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ugh-supersoldiers · 7 years

Text

The Barista and the Novelist

MASTERLIST

Characters: Barista!Bucky x reader

Summary: You’re a fresh university graduate, set on finding the world’s best cup of tea to enjoy in your most favourite season of all: Autumn. On a day off from your internship, you venture down to the next coffee shop on your list with laptop in hand, hoping to be able to work on the ending of the novel you’re writing. That’s what you meet the charming Bucky Barnes, a barista with an eye for you from the moment he sees you walk through the door who just so happens to want to hear about your book.

Warnings: This is the fluffiest of all fluffy fluffs. Bad editing, I’ll go back later I promise.

Words: 3885

A/N: Autumn is the prettiest season and Bucky is the prettiest metal armed super soldier. Coincidence? I think not.

Tea was probably your most favourite substance on the planet. English breakfast, earl grey, orange pekoe, chai, you name it. You’d discovered that fall was by far the best time to engage in tea drinking, and you’d scour the coffee shops of your town in search of the best cup the moment you started to see the leaves change from luscious greens to crisp reds.

When you stepped out of your home a cool wind hit your face, blowing your thick scarf back behind your shoulder as the blissful scent of fall leaves and cinnamon from your neighbor next door, who’d ever so kindly left their kitchen window wide open to let the inviting smell of their baking echo into the streets.

A smile decorated your lips as you began the walk to the next coffee house on your list, ‘Howling Commandos Coffee’, your leather boots picking up stray fallen leaves as you ever so happily marched down the sidewalk, a skip in your step all the while.

You reached into your purse, pulling out the pair of headphones that had be subject to a horrendous tangle while remaining stagnant in your bag for god knows how long. You were so prepared for fall, that you even had a fall playlist in your music.

Once you’d finally managed to detangle the mess that was your headphones, you plugged them into your phone, and connected yourself to your music, delving deep into the likes of the Goo Goo Dolls, Del Amitri, and the xx.

You were fresh out of university, and were deep into an internship with a local company that took a lot of time and focus, but on days off like today, you’d find yourself daydreaming about anything and everything you could think of.

Mainly, about the story you’d been consumed with writing for nearly a year. Writing was your passion over anything else, and you always found that you did your best work during this season. You found inspiration in the tumbling leaves outside.

When you reached the coffee shop, the sound of the bell ringing outwards as you opened the door. Another blissful smile graced your cheeks as the warm scent of coffee hit your nose.

The shop was almost completely barren, a testament to the hour of day. Now nearly seven in the evening, you’d figured most of the everyday coffee house goers had retired home, but you were only just beginning your journey of the day.

Happily, you strode up to the counter that was elegantly littered with different baked goods. Apple tarts, blueberry scones, sugar cookies, anything you could think of was laid out in from of you in a rather festive display of orange and red cloth laying underneath.

Your eyes were then glued at the menu of different drinks that you could chose from, an assortment that might have taken you a whole hour on your own, had you not heard the smooth voice of someone in front of you.

“Lemme know when you’re decided.”

Snapping your attention back down to the source of this voice, you saw the back of a broad shouldered man, cleaning away at the many machines he’d used during the day.

“Well, there certainly is a lot to look at.” You laughed.

A warm chuckle came from him, and you watched as he slowly turned around.

“Well, I’m always here to make a recommendation...”

His eyes met yours, and you watched his smile melt away, his entire focus now locked on you.

You hardly took note however, you were too in awe of him yourself to give a damn about the silence that loomed between you. You had never seen a man so gorgeous in your entire life.

Long chestnut brown hair tied into a low bun at the base of his neck, a few unlucky strands framing his cheeks and strong jaw that was dotted with stubble. His cable knot maroon sweater clung to his shoulder, fitting his chest just tightly enough for any viewer to be able to grasp how muscular he was underneath. He wore an apron, tied around his waist, a pair of worn out jeans beneath. And his eyes - God his eyes - were possibly the most magnificent of all features. Bright blue with hints of grey looming about them.

“Hi.” He said, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Hi.” You whispered back.

“I’m Bucky... Bucky Barnes.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

He blinked a few times, as if snapping himself out of a trance, “What were you in the mood for?”

“W-well,” You regained your composure, “I’m currently on a quest for the world’s best cup of tea.”

“You don’t say,” He smiled as he leaned over the counter, resting his elbows on the surface to get closer to you, “It just so happens that I make the best cuppa in Brooklyn.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked him, walking the dangerous line of flirtation.

“You betcha, doll.”

“Prove it.”

A boyish grin came upon his face, one that you swore made your heart melt into a puddle on the floor.

“You take milk and sugar?” He asked you.

“Just a touch.”

“Take a seat, darlin’. I’ll bring it out to you.”

So you did what you were told, finding an open seat by the window and sitting, taking your beige jacket off and hanging over the back of your chair. You reached into your bag and pulled out your laptop, an air of excitement filling you as you opened the lid.

You’d been writing a novel for the course of your entire university career. A collection of narratives about your life, little stories about the people you’ve met, stories they’d told you, anything along those lines. It was a collection of every little piece of life that struck you as interesting or inspiring over the somewhat hellish previous four years of your life.

You reread the last segment that you’d added nearly a month ago, when you had first gotten your internship with an editing company. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a foot in the door of the publishing business which is exactly what you needed.

The sound of you finger tapping aimlessly on the side of the table would’ve annoyed anyone else in the shop, had there actually been anyone else accompanying you.

“Whatch’a workin’ on there?”

You glanced up to see the curious frame of Bucky standing in front of you with a piping hot mug in his hands. It was only now that you got a look at his one hand, completely made of metal. You hadn’t noticed it before.

“I’m writing a novel.” You said as he set the tea down in front of you and acknowledged the thank you that passed your lips.

“A novel,” He said, “Impressive. Can I hear some of it?”

You gestured to the seat beside him, and he looked around the shop to make sure no one else had come in. After assessing that it was in fact empty, he took a seat across from you and nodded at you eagerly, a signal to continue.

“It’s long,” You explained with a laugh, “Do you really want me to start at the beginning?”

“The pretty girl that comes into my coffee shop askin’ about the best cuppa tea ever is willing to read me - Brooklyn’s biggest book nerd - a novel that she wrote herself and you think I don’t wanna hear the entire thing? Doll, you’re crazier than I thought.”

“I might rival you for that book nerd title.” You smirked, reaching forward to grasp the mug while trying to hide the blush that spread across your cheeks. It was becoming apparently that this man knew very well how to charm a woman.

“Is that a challenge?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him from above the line of sight of your mug as you took a sip of the tea he’d prepared especially for you, “Only if you want it to be.”

A hum passed your lips as you tasted the drink, reveling in the flavour that danced across your tongue. It was true, Bucky did in fact make the best cup of tea in Brooklyn.

“Good?” He asked, his eyes sparkling with delight at your reaction.

“I’ve had better.” You smirked playfully through your fib.

“Now you’re just playin’ with me, sweetheart.” He laughed and shook his head at you.

Of course, he was right. This was absolutely the single best cup of tea you’d ever had. Ever. There was a sweetness about it that you’d never tasted before, perhaps it was the brew of tea itself, or perhaps it was the company that sat alongside you while your drank, you’d never know for certain.

“Why don’t you tell me about the book first, darlin’?” Bucky said, putting his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his balled fist.

“You sure?”

“Damn straight I am.”

You giggled, “Alright.”

So you explained to him exactly what it was; A collection of narratives that you’d collected over the last four years of your life. Starting during your very first week of university when you listened to one of the upper year students you’d met told you a story about a life changing moment that happened to them when they were younger.

You were mystified, inspired, and you knew that you needed to jot her story down. With her permission, you wrote her narrative down in a file on your computer.

Within a few months, you’d created more and more of these journals filled with every sort of story imaginable. One’s from your mother, your classmates, a few from your favourite profs and TAs.

Now, at a whopping 200 pages, your novel was almost complete.

“That’s incredible.” Bucky said, his voice lowering in volume.

“Thank you.” You said, “I’m doing an internship with an editing firm, I’m hoping to get it published when it’s finished.”

“With that much content, I’m surprised you’re still trying to write more.”

“It just needs something more, you know? One more story to cap it all off.” You explained, scrolling through the lengthy document.

“Do you have any of your own in there?”

“Huh?”

“You said you had a lotta ones from other people, what about one about you?” Bucky asked as you sipped at your tea again.

“I wouldn’t know what to write.” You laughed.

“There must be something.” Bucky said.

“Nothing that sticks out.”

He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes, “If you say so.”

“My life has been surprisingly mundane.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

You laughed at him quietly, “Chapter one: The Adventures of Eliza in the Rain...”

By the time you’d gotten through the book, you had completely lost track of time. Bucky had taken a few breaks, momentarily having to serve the few people who came into the shop so late, none of them staying around after their drinks were made.

He’d already flipped the open sign over on it’s back, although you hadn’t even really noticed being too caught up in reading to him.

When you finished up the final story that you’d written, one that your grandmother had told you, you looked up at him with a grin.

“That’s it.”

Bucky’s eyes were completely wide, a huge smile placing itself on his face at your words.

“(Y/N), that was utterly brilliant!” He exclaimed, “I need a first edition!”

You giggled at his enthusiasm, your heart swelling at his excitement.

“I’ll have to mail you a copy.”

“God, please do, darlin’. That was the greatest thing I’ve ever heard. The way you write, it’s beautiful.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“You certainly know how to compliment a writer.”

“Only the good ones.”

You smiled.

“If only it were finished, then I’d print it all off and hand deliver it to you myself tomorrow.” You sighed, aimlessly hitting the spacebar a few times.

“I got an idea.” Bucky said.

You waved your hand, a gesture for him to continue.

“(Y/N), you ever been in love before?”

You stopped your spacebar-ing and stared at him, a blush spreading across your cheeks at his question. The truth was, no you hadn’t ever been in love. You were still young, but not young enough to not stick out as an anomaly because of this.

“The greatest stories are love stories.” He said.

You nodded your head but remained silent, staring down at the purple china mug that had run empty of tea hours ago.

“No.” You said.

“Hm?”

“No, I haven’t been in love.”

You wanted so badly to avoid his gaze, to crawl under a rock and shut him out, but he was right there, and his beautiful eyes were too tempting.

When you glanced at him, he was staring back at you, searching your face with a slightly mystified look on his brow.

“How is that even possible?” He asked in awe.

“Guess I’m just slow, I’ve never even really had much of a boyfriend.” You said, ducking behind the screen of your laptop.

“No, that’s not what I mean, doll.” He laughed, “I mean how is it possible that no one worked their ass off for you?”

“I don’t think I can answer that.”

“Maybe you’re right,” He said as he picked your mug up and hoisted himself up from the chair, “But anyone who passed you by before must’ve been a complete idiot.”

He retreated back behind the counter and began scrubbing at the mug in the sink that was there, the scent of lavender soap faintly lacing the air.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you had to remind yourself how to breathe for a moment as you watched the strong muscles under the knit of his sweater worked.

“Can I ask you something?” You questioned tentatively.

“Sure, darlin’ whatever you want.” He called over his shoulder.

“What happened to your arm?”

A soft laugh escaped his lips, “I used to work with some pretty heavy machinery, fixin’ planes and huge tanks and freight cars.”

“Sounds kinda dangerous.”

“Well I did lose an arm, so I’d have to agree with you.”

You bit your lip at his quip.

“One day I was workin’ on the top of this huge train rig, had to get air lifted in because the whole thing stopped workin’ in the middle of a snow storm. I was tethered to the top, tryin’ to get my hands on one of the plates up there that was giving us problems when this huge gust of wind came outta nowhere. Tether snapped ‘cause of the cold and I fell right off the edge.”

You hung off of his every word as he shut the tap off and took a rag, drying the cup as he turned back to face you, leaning up against the counter.

“Wouldn’t have been that big of a deal, maybe a broken arm or leg or somethin’, on a normal day when the rig wasn’t stuck at the edge of canyon. Thought I was a goner for sure. When I came to, I was in the hospital with one less arm than I remembered having before.” He snickered and glanced down at his left hand.

“When did that come into play?” You asked, nodding at his arm as you stood up to go sit on one of the bar stools that was situated right in front of where he stood behind the counter.

“Well, I was part of this trial for amputees. They were studyin’ innervation in prosthetics and asked me if I was willing to join.”

“Innervation? As in... you can feel this?” You reached forward and gently grabbed his hand, tracing the lines of the plates on his palm.

You were absorbed in his hand, watching the way the plates shifted and moved when he reached to wrap his fingers around yours, holding your hand firmly, brushing his cold thumb along the back of your hand.

“Sure can, darlin’.”

You looked up at him and smiled happily, gazing right into his eyes. A sigh came from your lips.

“I think I’ve found somethin’ real special tonight.” He said, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Yeah?” You asked, leaning forward on the counter.

“Yeah.” He whispered, moving even closer to you, “I think I really have.”

He was impossibly close, your head was spinning. With his hand in yours still, you questioned if it was all a dream.

By the time your noses touched, you were convinced you’d died and were simply in the presence of an angel.

“(Y/N)?” He whispered, his lips brushing yours.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

No reply was needed, you simply gripped the collar of his sweater and pulled him onto your lips, the anticipation being far too much for you to bear any longer.

With a chuckle muffled by your lips, Bucky deepened the kiss expertly, his tongue entering to explore your mouth.

When he attempted to pull you closer to him, he made a rather dissatisfied sound at this discovery.

“Fuck this.” He whispered, breaking the kiss in order to hop over the counter, taking a new position in front of you.

Reaching forward, he took your hand and pulled you up out of your seat, hoisting you up again, his lips planting back on yours.

With arms snaked around your waist, Bucky kissed you under the dim lighting of the coffee shop, hoping to God that he could exist in this moment with you forever.

When his lips left yours, you pressed your forehead to his, catching your breath after such a wondrous display.

A small laugh left your mouth, and he joined in at the beautiful sound.

“Somethin’ funny, darlin’?”

“No, you just seem to put a smile on my face.”

Well, if that wasn’t the sweetest thing Bucky Barnes had ever heard, he didn’t know what was.

He placed another quick kiss to your lips and closed his eyes, slowly swaying you back and forth to the beat of an imaginary song.

“I think I found something special too.” You whispered to him.

“Glad we have that in common.”

“Me too.”

He felt you glance over his shoulder and tense up for a moment.

“Oh my god! You closed three hours ago, Bucky it’s midnight. Gosh, I’ve kept you here for way too long, I’m so sorry!” You said, breaking from his arms and turning back to the table to pack up your things.

“Wouldn’t have let you stay so long if I wasn’t enjoying havin’ you around.” He said as he watched you swing your back over your shoulder again.

“I really should get going.” You said, knowing that you should at least try and get a few hours of decent sleep tonight.

“Guess so.” Bucky smiled sadly, approaching you until he stood in front of you.

You sighed as you looked at each other, neither one wanting to leave the other, but each with the knowledge that the separation was necessary.

“Thank you for listening to my story.” You said.

“Thank you for sharing it with me.” He whispered, reaching to take your hand in his and press it to his lips gently.

“I’ll have to share that first edition with you.”

His eyes lit up, “Must mean I’m gonna see you again, then.”

“Pretty soon too, I think I might have an idea for that last chapter,” You said, “I’ll bring it back here just as soon as it’s come out of the press.”

He smiled at your with a boyish grin, “I’d love that, doll.”

You retreated from him slowly, backing up step by step.

“Well, I suppose I’ll be seeing you.”

“Sure will.” He said.

You bit your lip and smiled at him brightly as your back hit the door. Never breaking eye contact with him as you pushed the door open from behind, you said one final parting.

“Goodnight, Bucky.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

You barely made it home before you squealed in delight at the experience, running up the steps into your bedroom, the laptop in your bag being quickly opened up, a flood of creative juices coming crashing down upon you at such a rate you didn’t even care about how early you had to wake up the next morning.

With shaking fingers, you typed in the final entry.

When Bucky heard the bell of his coffee shop ding open at ten minutes past closing that next week, he turned around while drying one of the several dirty mugs of that day to inform whoever it was that they were closed, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor when he saw you standing there, a manuscript in hand.

“(Y/N)!” He said, shocked to see your beautiful face again.

“Hey.” You laughed, walking forward to him, “I promised you’d be the first person to read it.” You handed him the print.

Shocked, he took it in his hands and smiled down at it, leafing through a few pages.

“This is amazing... Thank you, (Y/N).”

You smiled at him, “You’re welcome. It was incentive to see you again after all.”

“Well, I suppose I’m going to need something else so you can come back again.” He laughed, eyes still glued to the printed words on the pages that he held in his hands.

“Page 235.” You whispered before leaning over that memorable counter and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

In a flash, you were gone again, leaving Bucky in a complete trance. When he came to, he desperately flipped through the pages to find the number you’d specified. When he reached it, his heart thudded wildly when he heard the title.

Chapter 17 The World’s Best Cup of Tea Became the Muse that Finished my Book

He knew it was about him.

He read your version of events, explaining how utterly enamored with him you were and how much you desperately wanted to end with a love story, like he’d suggested, so you put the potential beginning of the likes of yours and his to finish off the book.

By the time Bucky reached the final page, he knew he was capable of loving you for the rest of his life. At the last word, he was certain of it.

Below the final sentence was a sticky note with your scribbled hand writing sprawled over it.

“Bucky,

I hope you enjoyed this. If I’m not entirely off base about us, I’d love to see you again before this goes through the publishing process (my boss saw it and wants to get it out there as soon as possible!) and it just so happens that I need this manuscript back, as they only really gave me one.

There’s your incentive,

(Y/N).”

Right below, there was a phone number and a large drawn heart. Bucky laughed out loud, unable to even fathom how just by chance he’d met you, the writer who wrote the first of the many love stories you would write about him in the book that would launch your career into soaring heights.

He clutched the manuscript tightly against his chest and smiled down at it, sighing heavily as he thought about the sound of your voice on the phone call that he would initiate just as soon as he could that very next day.

#bucky x reader #barista!bucky #barista!bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky headcanon #bucky barnes x reader #winter solider x reader #winter soldier #Steve Rogers #Sebastian Stan #sebstan #seb stan #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader #marvel #mcu #fic rec #bucky smut

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