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#tfatws fanfic
donottouchredbutton · 8 months
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In a Heartbeat
joaquin torres x sunshine!reader/ofc
4k words
she saves someone, and joaquin saves her.
moodboard
note: i wrote this with my oc in mind that i plan to write more about, but i wanted it to be read as a reader insert as well! let me know what you think :)
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She had been living in Washington DC for a little over a year now. She moved there for grad school, and some of the excitement had yet to wear off still. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, with all of the good schools nearby and all of the things to do and learn in the capital. It seemed like a busy enough place to never be bored, which was exactly what she wanted. It really had seemed like a smart idea, especially since she hadn’t had any problems since moving there.
Until she did.
She was out with her roommate after classes had ended for the day, enjoying the warm spring day and simply happy to be people watching as they hung out. It had quickly become one of her favorite things since moving there, something she shared with her roommate, Jasmine. She was always glad she and Jazzy got along so well and liked spending time together, often spending time just being out and about like today. 
Jazzy was showing her a small outdoor shopping district just outside of a park. It must’ve been really popular because it was packed with people. People were out walking their dogs, parents were out shopping with their kids, couples and friends were on dates and lounging on the grassy areas. Music was coming from the open doors of one of the stores, loud enough to carry even as you walked away from it. Something smelled good, like fresh bread and cinnamon sugar, and she wanted to follow her nose to figure out where it was coming from. There was a warm breeze that made her shiver whenever they walked in the shade, so she pulled Jazzy away to make sure they stayed in the sun. A few kids ran past them playing tag. It made her smile, she hoped they were having fun. 
She was pulled out of her thoughts when she noticed a bit of commotion going on. She couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but it was progressively getting louder. From the looks of it, she wasn’t the only one who had noticed as many of the people nearby were looking around as well. It continued to grow louder and louder until she spotted a large group of people running in their direction, all shouting and screaming to get away. A ways behind them, she spotted a group of big looking men in scary looking masks carrying scary looking weapons, all running after them with their weapons pointed forward. Before she could think about how cliche that sounded, she knew they had to get away first. Many people around them were coming to the same conclusion as they all began turning tail and running. She and Jazzy shared a look of understanding before following suit.
As everyone kept running away and the noise was getting louder, another noise caught her attention above all the commotion. She could just barely hear a small voice calling for help, but it was loud enough to get her to stop running. Her head whipped around trying to find whoever it was, wherever it was coming from. Her eyes landed on a little girl sitting on the ground holding a little boy, and even from her distance she could see they were crying.
“MOMMY!” the little girl kept shouting, tears running down her face as she tried to pull the little boy up with her. They had to be brother and sister. She sounded terrified.
She took off before she could think about what she was doing. She could vaguely hear Jazzy calling after her, trying to get her to turn around and come back, but she couldn’t. The only thing on her mind was getting to those kids before they could get hurt. She wouldn’t let that happen.
She slid to a stop and knelt down next to the kids when she got to them, unconcerned about the fact that she tore a hole in her jeans by doing so, nor the bruises and scrapes she no doubt would have on her knees either. The little girl, maybe seven or eight, kept pulling on her brother’s arm trying to get him to move, but he was sat on the ground firmly, bawling his eyes out and refusing to move. She knew he couldn’t have been older than three years old. 
She looked around for anyone who could have been their mother, anyone willing to help, but everyone was running in the opposite direction. She turned her head to see the group of men getting closer and closer, and they were gaining fast. She was the only one around.
“I need to get you out of here,” she said, turning back to the two kids, voice urgent. “I’ll get you back to your mom, I promise.”
She tried to pick up the little boy, who immediately started shouting and fighting when she did so. He was on the verge of a full-blown breakdown, determined to stay exactly where he was no matter what she did. 
“He won’t let anyone but mom pick him up,” the little girl cried, “but I don’t know where mommy is!”
Seeing how frightened they were broke her heart. There was no getting them to move if she couldn’t pick the little boy up, but she couldn’t just leave them. She wouldn’t. She didn’t know what to do, and she was struggling to come up with something fast enough. With another glance over her shoulder, she realized she was out of time. They were too close now, seconds away and coming right towards them. 
“Hold onto him, and don’t let go!” she ordered the girl. Once the girl did as she said, she grabbed both of the kids and held them to her chest, making sure neither of them would get hit as she awaited the inevitable first—and what she expected to be the final—blow to hit. 
She felt a strong gust of air rush over her head, and at the sound of a fight right behind her, she held on tighter to the kids in her arms. She knew this was it. In a heartbeat, it’d be finished. She’d be finished. 
“Are you okay?”
The voice was closer than she expected, making her jump, but it sounded genuinely concerned. Chancing a glance behind her, she was met with a pair of soft brown eyes. 
She looked past the man to see what was going on, only just noticing that the commotion had stopped, and she could see that the group of men were all lying on the ground unconscious with a man holding a shield standing above them. Everyone knew who Captain America was, but she never expected to come across him herself. Knowing that the kids would be safe now, she looked back to the man in front of her and was shocked to see he had a pair of wings on his back. The Falcon. They were positioned in a way that was meant to shield them from any danger. 
She finally looked back at the Falcon. His eyes hadn’t left her the entire time, and he stayed put in front of them, as if he wanted to make sure nothing could happen to them even with the threat gone. 
Instead of answering the man, she turned back to the kids in her arms. They were still crying and scared, she knew they would be, but at least she knew they would be safe now. She scanned over them for any injuries, and once she knew they were unharmed, she cupped the little girl’s face to get her attention. 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay now. You’re safe,” she assured her, speaking softly to help her calm down a bit. She stroked her cheek to gently wipe away her tears. She felt her own heart beating out of her chest, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. “I’m gonna get you back to your mom now, okay? Let’s go find your mom.” 
She glanced back at the man behind her again, who still hadn’t moved, before she eased the kids up into standing. The weight of the situation was finally catching up to her, her head swimming as she tried her hardest to focus on getting the kids back to their mom before anything else. She kept looking between them and the man who saved them. Stuttering, she said, “I… I need-”
“MOMMY!” the little girl called, grabbing her brother’s hand and running to meet the woman who was running towards them. 
She watched as the older woman dropped to her knees to meet her children in an embrace, her own tears streaming down her face as she held her children to her chest. The woman began kissing all over their faces and on the tops of their heads, and the woman’s voice was just loud enough for her to hear her repeating my babies to the children in her arms.
She was walking towards the family before she knew what she was doing. Her knees were screaming at her causing her to limp slightly, but she didn’t care. She needed to make sure they would be okay. Once she was close enough, the woman looked up at her and a look of gratitude crossed her face. 
“Thank you,” the woman managed to say through her tears. “Thank you for protecting my babies.” For a moment, she thought the woman was talking to the Falcon, the one who actually had saved her kids, but the woman was looking at her. 
“You don’t…” she started, beginning to shake her head, but she knew it would be pointless. Instead, she said, “I’m just glad you and your kids are safe.” 
She watched them a few more moments before the woman gathered her kids up and hurried away from the scene. She couldn’t blame them, she wanted to do the same. 
She suddenly remembered the man who had saved them. The Falcon (she couldn’t get over it). She turned back towards him, and this time she really took him in. His wings had retracted back into his suit, thankfully, as they had been very distracting. He was tall without being towering. His skin looked warm and sun-kissed with sharp cheekbones that made her wonder what he looked like when he smiled. He had a head of short, curly black hair, and those soft brown eyes. Those eyes that were still watching, a strange gleam present that hadn’t been there before. 
She didn’t really know what to say, feeling awkward, but she didn’t need to. Before she could even thank him, he spoke instead.
“Are you okay?” he asked again. Something told her that he wouldn’t leave until he knew she was.
“I’m fine,” she finally answered. She didn’t know if she was telling the truth or not, but she still wasn’t able to focus on how she really felt. The kids were safe, their mother was safe, and as far as she was concerned, that’s all that mattered. And this man made sure of that. “Thank you.”
The man seemed to relax a bit at that, his shoulders losing some of their tension. He opened his mouth to say something else, but another voice cut in. 
“Torres! We gotta go, man!” 
It was Captain America who interrupted (which was something she never thought she’d experience), having just been talking with the police who she hadn’t noticed had arrived. They were hauling the men—masks gone and in handcuffs now—into the backs of the police cars. The hero was inspecting their weapons, clearly waiting for the other man—Torres, apparently—to join back up with him. Torres looked between the two of them, seeming conflicted. Before either of them could say anything, they were once again interrupted. 
The sound of Jazzy calling her name snapped her out of whatever was going on, and she turned to see her roommate running straight towards her. Before she could comprehend what was going on, Jazzy was grabbing her arm and pulling her away, determined to get them away from anything else that might happen. She looked back at the man, Torres, and called out another thank you! before she let her roommate lead her away from the scene. 
In truth, she didn’t think she would ever see him again. Why would she? He was The Falcon, Captain America’s partner and a superhero in his own right. He had to have saved countless people all the time. He probably wasn’t even in DC anymore. There was no way she would see him again. 
But then she did. 
She volunteered at a local elementary school, and today they were taking the fifth graders down to the veterans rehabilitation center. They liked to decorate the walls with pictures and bring flowers for the veterans, wanting to try to brighten their days a bit and thank them for their service while doing so, and she liked being part of it as well. She couldn’t imagine what some of them have gone through, but she would sometimes sit in on the group sessions to try to understand more. It was why she made sure to take the kids there at least once every couple weeks.
“It was so nice seeing you and the kids again, sunshine!” the kind lady at the front desk said as she was getting them ready to leave. It was a nickname she had quickly picked up since they started going there, and it always made her laugh.
“Of course, Laura!” she replied. “I’m just glad they like coming down here as much as I do.”
Laura chuckled lowly. “Your visits always make everyones day. They may not say it often, but they appreciate it. More than you know.”
She smiled softly at that. “We try our best. We just want to show our respect and try to brighten things up for everyone, you know?”
“Don’t sell yourself short, hun. What you do with the kids and for everyone here, not many people would do it. We all appreciate everything you do around here. We appreciate you.”
She looked down bashfully at the older woman’s kind words. She never really knew what to say to that. Her eyes flicked back up to Laura. “Oh, I almost forgot!” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small bin. “I know you’ve been wanting to try Jazzy’s brownies.”
The wide grin that appeared on Laura’s face was enough for one to form on her’s as well. She nearly snatched the bin out of her hand, causing her to laugh. “You spoil me, sunshine!”
The two shared a few more words before she checked the time, knowing she needed to leave soon if she didn’t want the bus to leave without her. She said goodbye to Laura with a promise to be back the next week, and the other woman jokingly promised to be ready for more treats. With a wave and another smile to her friend, she began making her way to the front doors. She was in high spirits as she was preparing to leave, paying no mind to the man she passed on her way out until he called out to her. 
“Hey, it’s you!”
She almost didn’t stop, but when she looked around the area and saw it was mostly void of people, she figured it was her he was trying to get the attention of. When she stopped and turned around, her eyes widened when they met the same soft brown ones she first saw just the other day. 
“It’s you,” she repeated, not knowing what to say.
For a moment, she wondered how she could even miss him. Sure, he wasn’t wearing his suit or his wings and seemed, therefore, much less intimidating–not that he seemed intimidating in the first place, but he did save her life, and there’s just something about meeting a superhero face to face that makes a person feel overly self-aware. Without the suit on, you wouldn’t even assume he was a superhero, though in her head she was kicking herself because of course that was the point. He just seemed so normal, and she felt like she could pay more attention now that her life wasn’t on the line. He wore a dark green jacket over a black shirt and jeans, a pair of sunglasses hanging from one of the pockets. His shoulders filled out his jacket well, subtly showing off his built but lean muscles. Part of her wished she could remember what they looked like in his suit when they were more noticeable, and she mentally kicked herself again for thinking that about a complete stranger. His dark curls were styled simply and looked soft to the touch, and she was sure they were. 
Those eyes, though. Unlike before, his soft eyes were looking at her in pleasant surprise rather than concern, his lips quirking up in what was almost a smile. But that weird gleam she saw before was still there, and if anything, it was much more apparent than before.
It took her a few more seconds to realize neither one of them had said anything, her eyes glancing off to the side as her mind raced for something to say. He must’ve realized the same thing because his eyes widened suddenly, taking a step toward her once he knew he had her attention. 
“Sorry, um,” he began, searching for his words, “I just didn’t think I’d ever see you again, but I’m glad I did. How are you doing, after what happened?”
Her eyes widened slightly again, surprised by his words. “I-I’m doing fine,” she answered, but she wasn’t sure how much she believed herself. She added, “‘ve just been trying to get back to normal, is all.”
He seemed satisfied enough with her answer and started to nod, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
His words surprised her again. In a burst of confidence, she replied with, “Well, I did have someone to save me.”
His smile grew as he looked down sheepishly, and she thought she heard him say just doing my job under his breath. When he looked back up at her, she thought she liked seeing that gleam in his eyes, especially when he smiled. She thought happiness looked good on him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked gently, suddenly remembering where she still was. 
“Oh, I’m here to meet my partner,” he answered. “He helps out with the counseling sessions when he can. But I’ve got some information I need to discuss with Cap.”
Somehow, it didn’t surprise her to hear that about Captain America. In fact, it made her respect him even more for trying to help people on a more personal level, not just fighting as a superhero. Saving lives on all fronts, she was sure. But the way he talked about why he was there was just vague enough to pique her interest, and just telling enough for her to understand she shouldn’t pry. She was going to find a way to politely remove herself from the conversation, but he spoke again before she could.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, repeating her own question. He cringed at the way it came out, so he quickly added, “I just mean, this is the last place I expected to see you. Are you in the military?”
She shook her head, nearly chuckling. “No, I’m not. The school I volunteer at brings some of the older students down here every few weeks. We like to bring flowers and write cards, you know, to try to show our respect and appreciation. Try to brighten up people’s days where we can.”
“You do all this?” He asked, gesturing toward the decorations on the walls and the flowers here and there. His eyes had widened in surprise again, and it was her turn to look down bashfully this time. 
“Not just me. It’s the kids, mostly, but I like to help out.”
He looked impressed, and something about the look on his face and those damn eyes caused her face to heat up. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention. 
“Well, I can confidently say that I’m not the only one around here who loves seeing all of the notes and decorations,” he said softly, the smile on his face filling her with a sense of warmth she hadn’t felt before. “It’s amazing what you’ve been doing. We all appreciate what you do. And the kids, of course.”
Something told her that he was speaking more for himself than he was for everyone else, and somehow she knew that he meant it toward her directly. The thought made her smile.
His face suddenly got more serious, though, instantly making her feel nervous. “What you did the other day, with those two kids, too. That was amazing.”
That was not something she was expecting, and she definitely didn’t know how to respond to it. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down, suddenly feeling shy. “I did what anyone would do.”
But he was already shaking his head. “No, really. You saved those kids. I may be the one with wings, but you’re the real hero. It was incredible.”
When she glanced back up at him, she saw that a small smile had reappeared on his lips, and somehow, it was enough to ease some of the tension in her shoulders. It was enough to comfort her in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time, and it made her feel seen in a way she never had. All with one look, which is what really surprised her. She knew deflecting would be useless, so she settled with telling him, barely loud enough for him to hear, “Thank you.” And she meant it more than he knew.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked one final time.
She wanted to laugh that he wouldn’t let it go so easily. “I am, or I will be. I promise,” she answered, and she knew she was telling the truth this time. “Besides, this wouldn’t be my first time in a situation like that, and I’m sure it won’t be my last.” Now that got a good reaction out of him, even though it was the truth.
“Speaking of the kids, though,” she said before he could think about it too much, checking the time again and realizing she’d officially run out of time, “I have to get going so I don’t get left behind.” She looked him over one more time, trying to memorize as much as she could, before she began to turn away. “It was nice to see you again, and to talk. And thank you, again, for saving me.”
His smile warmed her from the inside out. “If it meant getting to see you again, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
She forced herself not to shudder before turning around. She had only made it a few more steps before he suddenly stopped her again. 
“Wait!” he called, almost too loudly for the quiet hallway. “I didn’t ever get your name!”
She wanted to kick herself again. How had they gone this entire conversation without learning each other’s names? She glanced back over her shoulder, seeing that he had barely moved from his spot. With a warm smile directed at him, she told him her name.
Another smile began to form on his face in return, and it looked like he repeated her name under his breath. Their eyes met a final time before he responded with his own. “I’m Joaquin. It was really nice to meet you, too.”
She turned around before he could catch the wide grin that was beginning to form on her face against her will and tried to rush out of there as subtly as she could. As she went, she could just hear him, Joaquin, repeat her name a second time, and even from where she was she could hear a smile in his tone. She left the building with a bounce in her step and a warm feeling in her chest. 
All because of the Falcon who saved her.
119 notes · View notes
breadtheft1796 · 2 years
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please tell me more about 'lets properly upset zemo'!!!
i'm so glad people are interested in this one! i've already posted a snippet from it here, but here's another! thanks for asking <3
ask about my wips?
“Are you ready to talk about it?”
Sam cared. Sam cared so much it only emphasised how little he cared himself. Zemo felt stretched thin, emotion too far past boiling point to calm yet not close enough to exhaustion to feel the gentle tug of compliance on his body.
Sam was crouching down in front of him like he hadn’t just smashed a super soldier’s face in and still had at least one remaining good hand. He didn’t know when Sam had learned to feel any degree of security around him, but for better or worse he didn’t seem to give a single fuck about his supposed risks as he used the cloth in his hand to wipe the thick, sickening layer of sweat, tears and snot from his overheated face.
When Sam followed the action with a “I’m sorry,” it almost sounded like it meant something.
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notafunkiller · 2 months
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best daddy ever
Summary: When Sam drops by unannounced, he discovers something new about Bucky.
Pairing: thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings: teasing, pet names, daddy kìnk, language, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 1K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I really hope you’ll enjoy it!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
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“You know that’s not funny, right?”
You giggle when you hear his broody tone as you make your way to the kitchen. You don’t realize that his words are not directed at you until you almost have a heart attack.
Of course you scream in shock when you see Sam sitting casually at your table while Bucky is leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed.
He immediately rushes toward you, though, when you place a hand on your chest. Your heart is beating so fast.
“Are you okay, honey?”
The way he casually wraps his arm around your waist casually to pull you closer in front of Sam makes you melt. You might never get used to him initiating PDA, but it makes you really happy.
“I’m okay, I’m sorry for screaming.”
You know he’s about to scold you for apologizing, but thankfully Sam speaks first.
“Hi, cutie. No worries, I came to annoy your tinman.”
You don’t even have to look at Bucky to know he’s rolling his eyes, his grip tightening on your hip as he groans.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to call her that?”
“So you don’t think she’s cute?”
You bring your hand to his chest just to distract him a bit. Sam loves to push his buttons almost as much as you do.
“Yeah, James, don’t you?”
You know you’re playing with fire after earlier, but it’s too fun not to. Especially when he gives you that look... you’re in trouble look. And you love to be in trouble with him.
“Get out of our house, Cap, so I can show her exactly how cute I think she is.”
Neither of you expected this since you both gasped. Bucky is sassy, that’s for sure, but you didn’t anticipate this type of casual sexual innuendo comment. Because he meant sex, right? There is no way he didn’t unless he is cruelly teasing you in vain.
“Guess the Winter Soldier is not so wint-” But Sam doesn’t finish his sentence, throwing his hands in the air in defense while still laughing when Bucky looks at him again. “Glad it still works, I was a little worried.”
“No need to worry, Sam, I promise.“ You smirk, patting Bucky’s ass twice before going to the coffee maker, stealing a whine out of him. “Want to stay for breakfast?”
“No,” Bucky answers for him, and you roll your eyes. You know Sam doesn’t mind his attitude because he’s known him for a long time, but you still want to be a good host.
“I can make crepes if you-”
“Doll, please.”
Sam looks at Bucky, then at you, and winks, smiling widely. “I’m leaving, I’m leaving. But don’t forget what I told you and stay out of trouble.“
It’s too vague for you to understand, so you’ll just wait for Sam to be gone to interrogate Bucky.
“Goodbye, Cap.”
And there he is, softer Bucky. You grab a cup for him too, and he smiles. You’ve never seen a more beautiful man in your entire life. He is magnetic and charming, and you feel like kissing him all the time. You don’t know how you managed to get him as your boyfriend, but you’re grateful.
“What is this? Oh my god, you kinky old man!”
Confused, you immediately make your way to the living room, following Bucky. You don’t know what Sam could have seen to say that, and you definitely didn’t expect him to hold Bucky’s cap in both of his hands, analyzing it. Your gift... Shit!
“Best. Daddy. Ever?”
You close your eyes, embarrassed, but Bucky, surprisingly, doesn’t seem to feel the same way. You don’t sense any shame or change in his vibes or posture. He simply stares at Sam as usual and snatches the cap from his hands.
“That’s mine.”
“I realized, daddy.” Sam can’t stop laughing even when he turns his head toward you. But when he sees you all serious, his face drops. “Or do you mean…”
“Mean what?“ You snap, a bit annoyed about the fact you two got busted in such a stupid way. And it’s all Bucky’s fault since he’s the one who left it there.
Only when Sam lowers his eyes to your belly, do you realize what he means.
“No, she’s not pregnant, idiot!”
“So you really have a fucking daddy kink? How do you even know-“ He stops mid-sentence, still totally taken aback, and Bucky sneaks behind you to open the entrance door. “How did you manage to corrupt this old man?”
You can’t help but laugh this time. If only he knew the truth...
Bucky puffs, pushing Sam out. “Goodbye, Sam!”
Thankfully, before Bucky could close the door in his face, you manage to say goodbye and wave:
“Trust me, I was not the one doing the corruption with this.”
You wish you could see Sam’s face. What a loss!
“He won’t stop talking about this, you know that, right?”
“You’re the one who left it here, so blame yourself.”
You take the cap from the table, where he put it, and walk straight to him, getting on your tiptoes before placing it on his head. Bucky looks at you with a mix of surprise and amusement as you adjust the cap to sit just right. He is the best daddy ever, indeed. If Sam heard how dirty Bucky could get during sex, he’d die. Contrary to what he believed, Bucky is the one who came up with this whole daddy thing while you were in the middle of fucking raw, right after he finished a mission. It rolled shyly but naturally of his tongue, and of course you liked it. You love calling him daddy even if you do it just to tease him. But it must be so hard, probably, for Sam to picture this mountain of a man, quiet but also sassy, knowing his past, like this.
“You’re staring.” Bucky smirks, and you feel your knees weakening. God, that smile! “And you’re horny.”
“What if I am? Gonna take care of me, daddy?”
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urdepressedslut · 7 months
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The Collection
♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: Bucky arrives home and panics when he notices you calling for him from your room, but upon entering— he realizes what you have been getting yourself into.
♡ Warnings: superrrrr fluffyyyy 🥹, slight panic, hints to paranoia, hints to PTSD, hints to bucky’s trauma, overall a comfort drabble
main masterlist
A/N: i have been adding to my own squish mallow collection and thought of this 🥰 i’m unhealthily obsessed with squish mallows
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Arriving back at your shared apartment, Bucky couldn’t help but notice the amount of time xtra large bags on the kitchen counter. He furrowed his brows in confusion and wandered to the fridge. Opening it in inspection, he didn’t see anything new or added.
You hadn’t gone grocery shopping…
He could hear faint shuffling from your shared room, and he couldn’t help but panic. His mind was brilliant at creating a problem from nothing. He was a professional over thinker— and sometimes it threatened to make his heart give out.
“Baby? I’m home!” He announced, shimmying off his jacket and making his way to the bedroom.
“James! Come quick— you gotta see something!” You said urgently.
He automatically thought the worst and all his suspicions were suddenly coming through. Visions of you hurt came to mind and he practically sprinted and busted through the door. The knob slamming into the wall with a loud thud.
“(Y/n)? You okay?!” He asked panicked.
His body relaxed at your calm state, only the look of confusion on your face. With a quick scan— he noticed there was nothing wrong with the room or you. In fact, if anything was different— it were the many new plushies on the bed.
Releasing a breath that he didn’t know he was holding in, and ran a hand through his hair.
“James honey— you alright? Just wanted to show you my new squishmallows.” You asked him worried, walking over to stand next to him.
Truthfully, if anything he was embarrassed that he’d let himself get in his head again. But after finding you perfectly fine, and organizing your plushies— which he found adorable— he felt fine. He was only happy that you were okay.
“M’fine baby, just thought you were in trouble is all.” He told you honestly.
You softened your gaze to him, grabbing his hand and hiding him to the bed. You gently pushed him down to sit, and he did so willingly.
“I didn’t mean to sound all panicky— was just excited to show you the new ones I got today!” You told him, smiling like the cheshire cat.
He chuckled, leaning back on his hands as he looked down at the medium sized squishmallows.
“You know— this is considered an addiction.” He pointed out.
You scoffed, waving him off like it was no big deal.
“Some consider it a hobby actually.” You defended.
He raised his brows in amusement, chuckling again when he saw you being so defensive. He thought you were adorable.
“You’re so cute.” He said out loud, causing your face to grow hot.
After all this time— he was still easily able to make you blush, flustered from his compliments.
You shook off the flush in your face, choosing to pick up a new squishmallow to show him. You held up a medium sized seal squishmallow, to which Bucky smiled at.
“This is a seal one, his name is Remmy.” You told him.
Bucky grabbed it from your hands, giving it a test hug and holding it while you grabbed another one. Next was a longhorn squishmallow, with a ring dangling from its nose.
“This is a bull one, his name is Shep.” You told him, giving it a hug and then passing it to Bucky.
You held back a giggle, Bucky holding the plushies to his chest an adorable sight. Such a tough man with these cute stuffed animals.
“I like his horns.” He noted, fiddling with the plushie.
You picked up the last one, being a bird squishmallow. You smiled wide as you looked at it, this one being your favorite.
“This is my favorite of the three. I think he’s a hawk or something, and his name is Sam.” You explained.
Bucky’s eyes went wide and he started laughing, dropping the other plushies on the bed, he reached out and grabbed the hawk and inspected it.
“Sam, really?” He asked chuckling.
You nodded your head with a sly smile.
“Does our Sam know about this?” He asked again.
“Definitely not— but I’m sure he’d appreciate it.” You told him.
You two laughed at the goofiness and you ended up being pulled by Bucky into the bed. He wrapped you up in his arms and the two of you started cuddling— just melting into each others embrace. The squishmallows surrounded you two while you both drifted off to sleep.
Nothing felt more perfect, nothing felt more right than being in his arms.
“Love you baby.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head.
“Love you more James.” You mumbled into his chest.
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TAGLIST: @billy-reads @potatothots @buckyb-stan @kmc1989 @silverfire13 @ghostofwinter @hanihoney88 @stilesofhannah @skittle479 @marvelogic @meetmeatyourworst @engie115 @wilsons-striped-ties @x209x @kandis-mom @l0kilaufeys0n7
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sweetbbarnes · 11 months
Text
Jealous
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TFATWS!BuckyBarnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky had no idea you could get so jealous over him. He’s not complaining, though.
Warnings: nothing much, jealous!reader, mentions of reader being insecure about herself (no body descriptions except from a part where it says that reader has calloused/scarred hands), a tiny hint at reader and Bucky having sex (you have to squint)
A/N: PLS I have nothing against long pink nails that’s actually how my nails are right now
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I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY STORIES TRANSLATED, COPIED OR POSTED TO ANY OTHER SITE/APP/ACCOUNT. DO NOT STEAL MY WORK.
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You have absolutely no right to feel like this.
The almost unbearable pang in your chest grows sharper and sharper as you observe the vibrant red lipstick luring Bucky into a conversation that leaves you to wonder what could be so intriguing. Oh, I actually know what’s so intriguing, you think to yourself as your eyes dart over her too revealing outfit. Talking, talking, talking. You summon the word like a mantra, repeating it over and over again in your mind, desperately trying to convince yourself that everything is fine. They’re just talking, right? So what if her hand and her stupidly long pink nails are strategically resting on his chest? What does it matter if she’s wiggling her hips all the time to show off? Everybody does that, it means nothing!
“You okay there, kid?” Sam asks, concerned, using the old nickname even though he knows you’re a little too far from being a kid now. “You look like you want to murder someone”
You shift the gaze towards your friend, attempting a smile that could honestly be mistaken with a grimace. “Just tired.” Your reply is barely audible over the unnecessarily loud music pulsating through Sharon’s mansion. They’re just talking.
“I must say,” Zemo unfortunately started with his infuriatingly smug grin “I never took you for a jealous woman”
“Jealous?” Sam repeated the infamous word, a little confused.
“Shut up, Zemo.” You reply dryly, shooting the man a glare that would make Bucky proud, if only he was paying attention to you and not some random woman’s boobs.
“She’s jealous of the pretty lady who’s captivating her soldier’s attention.” Zemo annoyingly elucidates the situation to Sam.
You watch, tortured, as Sam’s confused expression morphs into one of understanding as he gives Zemo a knowing look. “Y/n, if you’re-”
“I am not jealous and he is not ‘my soldier’.” You snap, your words coming out a little louder than you intended. Feeling frustrated in front of the truth Zemo just shoved at your face, you storm off towards the bar and ask the bartender for a beer.
You’re trying to ignore it. You really are. But your eyes can’t seem to abandon the enchanting figure across the room. She’s tall, stunning, feminine. Her skin is probably soft, void of the calluses and scars that mark your own — you wonder if Bucky can feel the softness through his shirt where she’s touching. She walks around in a piece of cloth that leaves too little to the imagination as if she fucking owns the place. Her lipstick matches so perfectly with her skin tone that if you didn’t know better you'd think she invented the color red. Every single aspect of her mere existence seems particularly designed to piss you off - but that could just be because her taste in men is pretty similar to yours. And there stands Barnes, wearing that infuriatingly sweet smirk of his, clearly enjoying the attention.
He can flirt with pretty girls. You tell yourself, trying to see things through a logical lens. He's a single, independent, free man. He can do whatever the fuck he wants. 
That much is true. To some extent.
See, he is single, and independent, and free. The only problem is, he had been flirting with you for the past two weeks — ever since Sam called you asking for help with the flagsmashers and Barnes forced his way into the situation. Or at least, you thought he was flirting. You could’ve read too much into his actions. But then again, if you were overanalyzing it, so were Sam and Zemo, because they just won’t stop teasing you about it.
Out of the two, Sam’s teases are the worst, of course. The damn asshole knows all too well that you had been pinning over Barnes since the day you helped save him years ago, back when everything was simpler. But then Wakanda happened, followed by Thanos, the blip, and the soul-wrecking taste of losing Bucky — and everyone else — for good. Then he came back, and now here you are, still hopelessly infatuated with the same dude.
Only now things are a little bit different. Because he had been gone, and in the time he was away, you had aged five years. He no longer addresses you as "kid," and you’re pretty sure you had caught him stealing glances at you when he believed no one was looking. Glances that resemble the way a man looks at a woman. Or so you desperately hoped thought. But all those fragile beliefs are now on the verge of shattering as you watch him giving the pretty lady a look that threatens to extinguish every ounce of hope you still hold onto.
"For someone who claims she's not jealous, you sure seem to be," Sam playfully mocks, breaking the silence as he sits in the barstool next to you.
You let out a heavy sigh. "Don't start."
"Are you going over there?" Sam asks nonchalantly.
"And say what? Hey, Barnes, I know we don't have anything and I have absolutely no right to be jealous, but could you please stop flirting with pretty women when I'm around? It really fucking stings?"
"It's a start," Sam shrugs.
You scoff, grabbing another beer from the bartender.
"If you're not willing to resolve it, at least stop glaring at the woman like you want to decapitate her," Zemo, much to your annoyance, joins the conversation.
"Since when do you care?" you retort, irritated with the audacity of this man.
"I don't. Just trying to be helpful," Zemo replies casually.
"Well, you're not," you roll your eyes.
"Although,” he adds after a moment of much appreciated silence, “if you're genuinely jealous, I suggest you don’t look now."
The smartass knows exactly how to get under your skin.
Shifting your gaze to where Bucky stands allowing himself to be drawn by cheap men-hooking techniques, your mouth suddenly dries. Planted far too close for your liking, the woman seductively whispers something right next to his ear as her hand caresses his bicep.
He’s not mine, you remind yourself, desperately trying to push the jealousy that threatens to consume you.
He doesn't owe me anything, you reason, the logical side of your brain trying to establish control.
I don’t have the right to feel like this. You shove your half done bottle into Sam’s chest, who holds it with an exasperated look directed at you.
I have absolutely no right to be jealous. You scold yourself as your legs start moving of their own accord, marching towards the pair.
You're nothing to him, you repeat in your mind, determination guiding your steps. When they finally notice your presence, it’s too late. You had already positioned yourself between them, fully facing Bucky.
"Excuse me, we were in the middle of a conversation," the pretty lady interjects, her tone doesn’t hold any particular hostility but her words irritate you nonetheless. How dare she flirt with your man?!
You turn your head towards her, lifting one eyebrow in a display of unimpressed indifference, before decisively returning your attention to Bucky. Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him closer and fervently press your lips against his.
Startled by your sudden attitude, he takes a few moments to fully register what the hell is going on, but as you refuse to back down, he slowly encircles his metal arm around your waist, raising his other hand to your cheek so he can hold your face and properly kiss the woman he’s been head over heels for since he came back to his senses when Steve saved him.
As Bucky deepens the kiss, taunting your parted lips with the tip of his tongue, the world around you fades into insignificance. The pent-up emotions, the frustration, the longing, and the overwhelming uncertainty, everything melts away in the intensity of the moment. Time stands still as you grant him full access to your mouth, both your stubborn natures fighting to dominate and control the kiss.
Realizing you need oxygen to survive, you release your grip on Bucky's collar, breaking the kiss but keeping your eyes locked with his. The unspoken words and long cultivated desires building up a tension one could cut with a knife.
The soldier's piercing gaze searches for yours, a mix of surprise, confusion, and something else flickering within the depths of his ocean blue eyes. Without actually thinking about what he’s doing, his grip tightens around your waist, pulling you closer. For a brief moment, you don’t dare say a word, the gravity of the situation sinking in, neither of you quite sure how to navigate the newfound territory you had just barged your way in.
But obviously, because Bucky is Bucky and you are you, that signature smirk of his slowly starts to show itself, and you somehow know what’s about to come.
“Well, darlin’, if that’s what you do when you get all riled up, I should probably find some more ladies to flirt with.” He teases, lightly squeezing your waist.
“Don’t push it, Barnes.” You fake scold, trying to hold back a smirk of your own.
He lowers his head until his lips are right next to you ear, so close that you can feel his warm breath as he speaks, “though if I got this attitude whenever you make me jealous, dollface, I have a feeling we’d be kissing a lot more”
A delicious shiver runs down your spine as you tease.”You keep the sweet talk, Sarge, and we’re gonna end up in Sharon’s spare bedroom.”
Well, you did end up in Sharon’s spare bedroom. And the bathroom. And the kitchen. And every single room in his apartment after you went back home. But that’s a story for another time.
Bonus:
Sam scowls as he watches the pretty lady storm away from you two, reaching his back pocket to get Zemo’s twenty dollars.
“I hope you know this is the last time I make a bet with you.” Sam mumbles, displeased, sipping the beer he knows very damn well you won’t be coming back to get.
Zemo shrugs nonchalantly, tucking away the money both of them know he doesn’t really need, but holds immense satisfaction as it represents his symbolic triumph over the bet. He smirks. "I must remind you, I did mention I could be quite persuasive."
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masterlist
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antiquarianfics · 8 months
Text
The Best Things Take Time
Bucky has a code. You manage to crack it.
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A/N: This took me so long because I wasn't really sure how I wanted to go about it. I'm pretty happy with it, I think. Also, my first request! I hope I did your brain-child justice. :) Warnings: Mild language. Based on this request. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.
You do not have permission to repost or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.
----
Bucky Barnes decided early on in his life as a free man that he wasn’t going to try and date—even with Sam and Yori pushing him all the time. His triggers are gone, yes, but he is starkly aware that he still has a long way to go before he might be considered ready to give time and energy to another person on a daily basis. However, if there is anyone in the world that makes him reconsider his own rule, it’s you.
The two of you first formally met when Steve, Sam, and yourself finally tracked him down. You were kind to him, but you kept your distance. He never made many attempts to speak with you, but the short interactions he did have with you were short and clinical. He never asked, but he’s pretty sure you’re afraid of him—of what he’s done.
Despite this assumption, Bucky takes note of the way you drop everything to help him time and time again. You back him in Washington, you back him in Siberia, you back him in Wakanda, and you back him in Washington in the second go-round. He is appreciative—very much so—but he keeps his distance regardless. After all, he shouldn’t risk losing an ally by something as silly as small talk.
Things begin to change, though, when he runs into you at the airport. Both him and you felt the need to get on Sam’s back about giving up the shield.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, a little indignantly. You cringe a little at your tone, but you brush it off nonetheless.
Bucky shoots you an annoyed look before turning to Sam.
Throughout the mission to track down the Flag Smashers, you and Bucky bicker (even more than Sam and Bucky do). You challenge him on every opinion he shares, poke fun at every misstep he takes, and side with Sam for the sake of disagreeing with him. He returns the favor, and he ignores the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth.
Your interactions are not particularly pleasant, sure, but they’re existent—which is progress.
“Does he always stare like that?” Walker asks Sam, eyeing Bucky uncomfortably.
“You get used to it,” Sam replies.
You glare at Walker. His attitude towards you and your boys bothers you. His entitlement to Steve’s shield and name bothers you. He bothers you.
“Does she always stare like that?” Walker asks, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
“Only when douchebags harass my friends,” you deadpan.
You are plenty aware this is the first time you’ve called Bucky your friend, and you can tell he is too by the way his eyes shift from Walker to you. You’re not aware, though, that your concession of friendship serves as the push he needs to talk to you more.
It takes time, but over the next few weeks, Bucky manages to get you to open up. He’s surprised with himself by how he’s willing to talk to you; after all, people are usually trying to get him to talk.
Bucky finds out that you’re actually not as reserved as he thought, but you had heard both Steve’s stories of before and multiple people’s accounts of after. Your distance, you admit, was a consequence of you trying to give him space when everyone else was crowding him. Your teasing and bickering with him was a consequence of trying to create said space. The revelation makes Bucky’s heart clench: no one has made him feel so cared for in a long time.
Bucky sticks by his no dating rule, though. After all, you may be friends, and you may be acting nicer to him lately, but there’s no way you like him like that.
Or, at least he thinks so until Louisiana.
“Hey, Sarah,” Bucky says, flashing a charming smile at her from where he sits next to Sam and yourself on the dock.
“Hey!” You smack his chest with the back of your hand. “No flirting with Sam’s sister.”
He lets his attention shift to you, and he can’t help the surprise. He’s aware that you could just be enforcing Sam’s demand from earlier, but you’re so adamant. He thinks maybe he sees a flash of jealousy in your eyes, but he thinks, too, he might just be seeing what he wants to see.
Sam and Sarah continue to bicker before she shoos the three of you away from the boat. Sam and Bucky step onto the dock and begin to walk away before you, and they keep walking even when Sarah stops you.
“Subtle,” she says, smirking at you. You wave her off, your face heating up with a blush.
“Shut up,” you say, embarrassment entwined with each syllable.
Bucky thinks maybe—just maybe—you might like him back.
Looking back on the last few years, Bucky can hardly believe the journey you and he had been on. Being so distant most of your time together in the first few years, and then being so rude to each other the next few, and then needing a push from the Wilsons to actually do anything about your feelings… it was interesting, to say the least.
He remembers the day you agreed to leave Louisiana with him. It was an impulsive decision, but it led to the first time the two of you had truly been alone together. It led to inside jokes and deep conversations. It led to a genuine friendship.
“I’m headed out tomorrow,” Bucky informed you and Sam.
The three of you were sitting on the porch of Sarah’s house, conversation flowing from friendly jests, to Karli, to the boat, to whatever else. Your head shot up to stare at him, eyes widening.
“What? Why?” Your tone was a little panicked. Bucky raised his eyebrows at your tone. Sam laughed, and you shot him a glare.
“I don’t want to overstay my welcome, Doll,” he said. Ever since the incident with Sarah, he’d let a few pet names for you fall from his lips, and he smugly noted the way they made you squirm.
“Oh.”
“Well!” Sam exclaimed, clapping his palms on his knees as he stood. “I’m gonna go check on Sarah and the boys while you,” he pointed at the two of you in turn, “figure whatever is going on here out.”
You protested, but Sam was gone without another word. Neither one of you spoke for a moment, and you chewed on your lip.
“You’re really going?” You asked shyly.
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
“You can come with me, if you want,” he offered before he can think better of himself.
Your eyes shot to his, analyzing his face for any sort of jest. He seemed sincere, and once you decided he wasn’t pulling your leg, you responded.
“Okay.”
He remembers the day the two of you finally addressed that you were more than friends. Bucky, of course, has a no dating rule, and you? You had no such thing, but you weren’t dating either. In fact, you hadn’t since before Karli and the Flag Smashers showed up.
Bucky and yourself were at a bar, drinking and laughing with one another. He was sober, of course, but you were a little tipsy. You had a dopey smile on your face that he thought was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. He still thinks your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
That’s when a young woman sauntered up to the bar. She was gorgeous; her long, black braids reached her waist, her lips were painted a bright red color, and she wore a halter top that left little to the imagination.
“Hi,” she said, grabbing your attention, shooting you a flirtatious smile.
“Hi!” You said, the alcohol making you friendlier than you usually are.
“I saw you across the bar, and I was jus’ wonderin’, would you wanna grab a drink with me? Maybe dance a lil’?” Her eyes dragged down your body and back up to your eyes.
Your eyes widened and you blushed.
“Oh, uh! T-thank you! I’m flattered, but, uh, I got my guy right here, and I kinda like him too much to date!” You sort of yell-whispered the confession to the girl.
She glanced behind you to Bucky whose eyes had also widened in shock, his mouth hanging open a little. The woman laughed and touched your shoulder comfortingly.
“‘s alright,” she assured. “Was worth a shot, though.”
She turned to Bucky then.
“Yo, congrats, man. You’re a lucky guy once you two talk that through.”
With that, she had left, and you turned around to Bucky.
“Look,” you said, more sober sounding than you’d been since the two of you arrived at the bar. “I don’t know what you think this is, or what you want it to be, but I’m all in if you are.”
Bucky leaned forward and kissed you without a second thought.
And he remembers the moment he decided he was going to marry you, if you’d have him.
The two of you were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment; after about two years of dating, you insisted you live together.
“Buck, you’re always here. All your stuff is here. I don’t think you’ve stepped foot in your apartment in a month. You’re just wasting money on rent at this point.”
You were leaned into his side, eyes glued to the tv screen. The two of you were watching The Princess Bride (it’s one of the many movies you insisted was so culturally significant that he had to see it). It was the way you would turn to him at your favorite parts, gauging his reactions to see if he loved it like you did; the way you would mouth the most iconic lines along with the characters; and the way you would sigh contentedly and cuddle further into his side at the romantic scenes that really pulled the realization from deep within him. And, perhaps, it was the way you produced the most ridiculous voice to say "Mawwiage! Mawwiage is what bwings us here today!" that truly brought the idea of marrying you to the forefront of his mind. Regardless, he knew he wanted you around for the rest of his already over-extended lifetime.
Bucky Barnes decided early on in his life as a free man that he wasn’t going to try and date, and he decided late in his life as a free man that he wasn't going to ever try and date anyone other than you. So, here he finds himself, kneeling on the ground in front of you with a ring extended towards your person, and hoping you'll say yes.
"Sweetheart, I know we've had a lot of ups and downs. We met when I wasn't truly myself, we got together when I was still figuring out who I am on my own—without Steve, without HYDRA—but no matter what, you've been there for me. You're still here for me.
"You deserve the world, Doll, and I want to give it to you. I want to be here for all your ups and downs, and I want to spend my life being to you what you've already been to me.
"You're my partner, you're my best friend, you're the love of my life. And if you'll have me, I'll be your king, if you'll be my queen. I'll be your husband, if you'll be my wife.
"Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?"
You let out a laugh through a sob, pulling your hand to your face to quickly wipe your tears away, and you nod vigorously. You drop to your knees, pulling Bucky's face into your hands, caressing his cheek gently. Smiling, you respond.
"James Bucky Barnes, of course I'll marry you."
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sergeantxrogers · 2 months
Note
Can you please write something with the idea of y/n asking Bucky if she can tie a pink ribbon around his bicep? Thank you
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Request: "Can you please write something with the idea of y/n asking Bucky if she can tie a pink ribbon around his bicep? Thank you"
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: none, just fluff
Note: hooooly shit guys, i've been gone for way too long. hope you enjoy <3
_____
The jingle of keys in the doorknob had you lifting your eyes from your book, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing softly. The quiet whispers of a jacket being taken off, laces being untied, keys being set on the small table beside the door travelled through the apartment, meeting your ears and bringing a smile to your face.
Soft footsteps padded against the hardwood floor, careful to avoid any creaky spots.
"I'm awake, Buck," you called out softly from the comfort of your bed, and you heard him pause his movements. And then continue, a bit quicker than before.
Brown hair and blue eyes popped around the the edge of the door frame, brows furrowed. "It's midnight. Why are you still awake?"
You shrugged, sitting up in bed and setting your book aside. "Dunno, really. Got caught up reading."
Bucky frowned, and stepped into the room, walking over to the bed. "You can't sleep?"
It was a casual question, but you sensed the undertone of worry laced through it, and smiled to yourself.
"Actually, I spent most of the evening redecorating, so I'll probably start snoring as soon as the lights are off."
Bucky's hands reached for yours, grabbing them and bringing them up to his lips as he stood in front of you. One, two, three kisses along your knuckles. One hand, then the other.
"Redecorating?" he murmured against your skin, and you nodded slyly. His eyes narrowed, partially in amusement, partially in curiosity.
You cleared your throat and pulled your hands back, settling yourself back into the fluffy down of your pillows and blankets. "How was work today?"
At your question, Bucky's jaw ticked.
"It was fine."
You studied him for a few seconds, and cocked your head. "Just fine?"
He let out a heavy sigh, then collapsed atop the comforter at the foot of the bed. On nights like this, when he came home later than usual, the tension in his shoulders a bit more prominent than usual, the bags under his eyes a bit heavier, he found it hard to form sentences adequate enough to explain how he felt or what he needed.
Ever since the government cleared him of all charges and his mandated therapy ended, Bucky had taken up a job at the DCSA.
Defense Counterintelligence and Security Agency.
On paper, James Buchanan Barnes was an ordinary, ex-military security guard working for the Department of Defense and the United States.
In reality, the executive branch of the federal government reached out to him themselves and offered him a job doing what they claimed he did best: making people disappear, and making it seem like an accident. He was hesitant at first, unwilling to be the very thing he tried so hard to run away from being, but soon enough, they had made it very clear he had limited options: accept the position, or get thrown in prison for all the charges they claimed to have dropped.
So, for all his hesitating and hatred, Bucky Barnes was the United States government's own personal hitman, killing anybody who posed a threat to the life of the president, his family, or anybody in the Senate.
At least they paid better than HYDRA, Bucky had once joked. You could see, in his eyes, how much it pained him to revert back to his old ways, once again not having a choice.
Bucky cleared his throat, and glanced at you, blinking away the shadows behind his eyes.
"It's fine, sweetheart. I promise. It could have been worse."
Your heart cracked in your chest and you frowned, burying your cheek even deeper into your pillow as you looked at him. "If you say so."
Bucky pursed his lips to the side, then looked toward the door connecting your bedroom to the bathroom. Without a word, he got up, walking towards the bathroom and simultaneously pulling his shirt over his head. You smiled to yourself as you watched him disappear behind the door, flicking the lights on and letting the soft, yellow glow flood the floor of your room. You listened to him shuffle about, letting out a soft sigh as he unbuckled his belt.
His movements paused.
Your smile grew.
"Y/N?" he called out.
"Yes, babe?"
The door creaked open all the way, and behind it stood Bucky, holding his toothbrush in one hand, with a confused look on his face.
"Why is there a pink bow on my toothbrush?"
It took all your strength not to burst into a fit of giggles immediately as you schooled your face into one of nonchalance, and said, "I told you. I redecorated."
Bucky's bewildered eyes flickered from you, to the toothbrush, then back to you. Then he turned to look at the bathroom. And you saw the exact moment in which he realized there were pink bows everywhere. Big, small, light pink, dark pink, neon pink, cotton, silk, linen. A variety of ribbons tied in bows around everything you could think of: toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo bottles, the soap dispenser, the toilet brush, the towel rack, your skincare bottles, his deodorant and cologne.
"Y/N," Bucky said calmly.
"Yes?" you replied, batting your eyelashes innocently.
"Can you please tell me, why, exactly, you decided on redecorating with pink bows everywhere?"
You hummed, then shrugged. "You know, I'm not exactly sure. I just think they make pretty things look so much prettier. I may have gone a bit overboard, though."
"You think?"
You bit back a grin as you watched him shake his head, as if to snap him from his stupor of amusement, and bend over the sink to brush his teeth. You watched him brush his teeth, wash his face, change out of his jeans and into pajama pants. You tracked him as he turned the lights off and sighed, trudging over to the bed, exhaustion creeping into every one of his movements and pulling at him like gravity. You opened your arms wide, lifting the covers as you did so, and Bucky gladly crawled into them, nuzzling his head into your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist and back.
You placed a soft kiss to the crown of his head, and let your arms come loosely around his neck. Bucky said nothing, content to lay in silence and listen to the beat of your heart as it lulled him to sleep.
After a few minutes of you silently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered his name. "Bucky?"
He hummed in answer against your chest.
"You know how I said pink bows make pretty things even prettier?"
You felt, rather than saw, his body pause at the question, and then his head was up and his blue eyes were staring into yours with a puzzled expression. "Yes... why? What's that have to do with anything?"
"Well..."
You paused. All of a sudden, you felt stupid. Bucky's furrowed brows and sleepy eyes urged you to continue.
"I have a pink ribbon under the pillow, actually, and I was... I wanted to..."
"What, honey?"
"Well, I was wondering if I could tie it around your arm."
Bucky paused, blinking up at you slowly, as if he hadn't heard you.
"My arm?"
You nodded.
"Why?"
You shrugged. "Because it's already beautiful, and I want to make it even more so."
He laid there quiet for a moment, and you were about to tell him to forget about it, but then he unwrapped his arms from around you, letting you drop flat onto your back, and shoved a hand beneath your head. Beneath your pillow.
He emerged with a baby pink ribbon in his fingers, the material pliable and soft in his grip, as he handed it to you.
"Go ahead," he said simply.
You gave him a skeptical look. "Really?"
He shrugged with one shoulder. "Why not? Did you think I'd say no?"
You fell quiet, then let out a sigh through your nose, turning over slightly to better reach his arm. His left arm.
You wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, the vibranium cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the warm pink silk in your fingers. You looped it through, pulling it taut, then let go. You stared at it for a second, then glanced up at Bucky. Leaning in, you pressed a light kiss to the exposed metal right above the bow.
Bucky let out a shuddering breath, then laid down again, this time face to face with you. His fingers traced soft, swirling patterns against the skin of your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and you closed your eyes against the feeling.
"I love you so much," he muttered quietly. "You know that, right?"
You nodded, eyes closed and a smile playing at your lips. "I know. I love you, too. Every part of you."
Bucky loosed a breath that sounded somewhat like a disbelieving breath, and you felt him lean in and press a kiss to your temple.
You fell asleep without even realizing, lulled into dreams by the steady thrum of his heartbeat and his hand stroking your hair.
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femmefatale-tales · 6 months
Text
Slut! ( Taylor’s version)
Warnings: so much fluff
Bucky x reader
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“In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman”
“I hate men, I can’t stand them right now. I should’ve never went to the blind date Wanda set me up for, I should’ve known he was gonna be douche” I talked to myself as I was entering the compounds hall.
Not many people were present at the compound everyone was on missions and I tired of men, wanting to rant to my friends but since they weren’t present I was just talking to myself.
I plopped myself on the couch just staring at the ceiling. “I hate him, I hate men. I can’t even call him a man, he’s still a boy” I said to myself.
“Hey doll”, a raspy gorgeous familiar voice called me out of my trance.
Bucky.
I turned on my stomach on the couch and looked at him as he sat opposite to me on a chair looking as gorgeous as ever even with his bed hair.
“Were you talking to yourself just now?” I cringed.
“Well Wanda and Nat both are on a mission so, yeah I was kinda ranting to myself” I said smiling seeing his smile.
“You know, you can always rant to me” he spoke after a bit of a pause.
God, he was sooo…….
“Bucky I can’t rant to you about how much I hate men” I chuckled.
“Why not? I mean understand there are some douches in the world. My sister always talked with me about this stuff” he joked.
…..distracting with his pretty smile and that black sweaters hugging his biceps just enough to stop my breaths.
“Really? Are you sure?” I questioned.
“Yes doll” he assured.
“Okayyyy. Um so Wanda set me up on a blind date and she was so convincing, I couldn’t say no to her. So I went to the date today and he was 40 minutes LATE!!. And then I couldn’t even tell a bit about myself, I’m sure he might not even know my name. He was talking about himself the whole night, never pulled my chair, never walked me home which I’m kinda glad for but he wasn’t a idk he jus-
Wasn’t you.
“Wasn’t a gentleman?” Bucky finished my sentence and my heart couldn’t have beated more faster I thought.
“ yes” I spoke breathless a bit.
Did my heart always beat so fast near Bucky?.
“Doll, he didn’t deserve you. You deserve more than this”
You?
“Bucky, gentlemen like you don’t exist anymore” I scoffed.
In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman.
“Im sure they do you, doll. Im sure there is a gentleman for you” he reasoned.
“Maybe”
“Im sure”
“You promise?” I joked as I stood up to leave wishing he would stop me and ask to be my gentleman.
“Yes”
“Thank you” I said as I left.
He smiled, killing my heart.
“Got love struck, went straight to my head”
“I told you sam, don’t take that cup” I heard Bucky’s voice while I entered the kitchen rubbing my eyes from woken up so early.
“God! Fine!” Sam semi shouted frustrated.
I winced.
“Why are you guys yelling at 8 in the morning???” I said
“Sorry doll” Bucky looked away a bit like he didn’t want me here.
“It’s all his fault” Sam argued.
I looked at Sam, a bit confused.
“For some reason he’s not letting me have this cup for coffee yet he’s not using it too” he complained and Bucky winced.
I was still confused and a bit hurt seeing Bucky ignore me.
“What cup??” I questioned.
“This red one” he showed me.
I couldn’t be more surprised to see my own new cup I brought the other day.
Bucky was not letting him drink in that cup cause it’s mine? Does he even know? Or is he just messing with Sam?
My head felt a bit fuzzy.
“Um that’s my cup” I confirmed trying not to smile but I knew the blush was creeping up in my cheeks.
A realisation dawned on sam’s face as he spoke “Oh it is…..”
He started chuckling
“We’ll enjoy your cup DOLL” he exasperated.
But I couldn’t stop looking at Bucky and never realised Sam left.
Bucky poured coffee in my cup.
He walked towards me to hand me the cup with a sheepish smile on his face.
I couldn’t breath.
“I remember you said your day always goes bad when you don’t have your cup sooo..” he handed me the coffee.
Oh god.
“Enjoy your coffee doll” he whispered in my ear.
And I, got love struck, went straight to my head.
Got love sick all over my bed.
“My head hurts” I stated as I layed on my bed.
Wanda and Nat laying besides me. It was the peak of girls night and I couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky, it was making my head hurt and the alcohol in my system didn’t help.
“I like him so much, I feel sick” I said.
I told them everything that happened between me and Bucky and how I was starting to catch feelings.
“Tell him then” nat said and Wanda hummed in agreement.
“I can’t, he sees my as a friend. He won’t like me back”
No one responded.
I looked at them and they had fallen asleep.
I kept thinking about him.
And just like that, the more I thought about him…
I got love sick all over my bed.
I never slept that night.
“Love to think you’ll never forget. We’ll pay the price I guess”
“Tony! Why is tonight’s party a Date party??? Why is a date compulsory?” I complained.
“Let me guess, you don’t have one?” He said smugly.
Yes.
“No, I do” I lied.
“Then bring him”
That asshole.
I left.
Did Bucky have a date? Was he going? Will he ask why I didn’t come? Will he even remember?
I- love to think he’ll never forget.
I didn’t see him coming when I bumped into him.
“Hey doll” he smiled.
I looked up. Swallowing the words on tongue.
“Hey” I said as I backed up a bit for my own sanity.
“You going to the party tonight?”
He asked and my heart jumped.
“No, not really. I don’t have a date”
“Really?”
“Um yeah” I said embarrassed.
“Come with me then” I looked at him wide eyed suprised, my throat dry.
“What?”
“Come with me doll” he repeated smiling.
“Um didn’t tony say “no teammates as dates” in the invitation?” I asked breathless.
“We’ll pay the price, I guess” he shrugged.
“I’ll get ready then” I smiled like I had never ever felt happiness before.
“Me too, gotta get ready for my lady” he kissed my cheek and left.
I was frozen on spot. But I ran to my room as soon as I was out of my trance. Giggling like a school girl.
“But if I’m all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us. And if they call me a slut, You know it might be worth it for once.
I was scared. Was I dressed to slutty? Is this too much? What if Bucky doesn’t like?
That’s all I thought while I walked to his room in a black dress I thought looked too slutty.
The dress is was gorgeous but something got into my head.
I knocked on his door. What if he thinks I’m a slut? What if he thinks I’m stupid to ask hi-
He opened the door. In all his glory wearing a white shirt tucked in black pants, with his hair slick back and I forgot everything.
“Hey, gorgeous” he said.
I couldn’t comprehend that HE called me gorgeous.
“Hey” I say sheepishly looking up at him.
“You look breathtaking” he complimented making me breathless again.
“You think so?” I questioned.
“Doll, I have never seen someone as gorgeous and beautiful as you” he confessed.
I couldn’t believe him.
“Bucky, you’ve seen so many woman in you life, don’t lie”
“That’s right I have, so shouldn’t it speak volumes when I say you are the most gorgeous and beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?” He tucked my chin upwards making me look at him.
I got so lost in his eyes.
“What if people look at us weird?” I asked.
“If you’re all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us” he smiled looking at me, still so close as ever.
I couldn’t help but smile looking at him.
“What if people think the dress is too slutty? What if they call me a slut ?” I questioned again.
“Then we won’t leave until I punch them in the face, and who cares about people. I don’t think the dress is slutty, You look perfect” he replied and reassured me again.
He’s right. Why would I care about others with him by my side. Who cares right?
Right.
“Let’s go doll” he took his blazer.
“I’m ready for our date” he stated smiling as he took my hand in his and gave me a reassuring squeeze.
“Bucky” I stoped at the door.
“Yes?”
“I want to tell you, I really enjoyed tonight incase I forget later, And if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once” I told him smiling my biggest.
He kissed me, on the lips this time.
“But I’ll still punch anyone in face who does” he said as he held my flushed smiley face against his breathless smiley face.
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Note
Absolutely love your block and thought I will just sent an ask😂😂
I know you don’t take requests right now. But what do you think would Bucky take you out for the first date? (Maybe TFATWS Bucky? Or 40’s Bucky?)
Thank you in advance.🩷🩷
whaat omg absolutely I love yours!! I chose tfatws bucky bc he’s my fave, these are my thoughts/ hcs. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
FIRST DATES WITH BUCKY.
implied fem!reader
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so, im thinking…
he's still getting used to the idea of dating in this century and things are so much more different now, to how they were in the 40s. things he would've done for dates aren't as common now, so he's trying to find that sweet spot of balancing two different lives
also, he's still in the process of regaining his confidence, so dating is a little daunting, especially first dates. he wants the date to feel comfortable for him and yourself, but he also wants to make an impression and woo you
if you're already friends beforehand, it would ease him a lot more - since there's a dynamic already. but that doesn't mean he won't be nervous about it! but if it's the first time you've hung out, it would take him a whole lot longer to warm up
he's still pretty charming and chivalrous: brings flowers, offers to pick you up, pulls your seat out for you, lets you order first, pays attention to you, offers to pay, offers to take you back. he's very sweet and tries to go back to the ways of dating
the longer he's around someone, the more he becomes his authentic self. his charm would naturally seep out much more and he would just grow a lot more comfortable with you
I think he needs that reassurance that he's doing well during the first dates, so any indication you give him goes a long way. ie laughing genuinely, touching his hand, acting and showing that you're engaged and interested in his company, asking to see him again, not making him feel like a sore thumb
dinner, a movie and a walk back is probably an ideal date for him. it has all the things that feel familiar to him, and it'll give him more time and opportunity to open up. it allows for there to be comfortable silences, which gives him more time to ease
he has so much love to give but just needs that person who can coax it out of him/ someone he can give it to☹️
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want to wrap him in cotton wool
* gif isn’t mine, found it on pinterest *
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donottouchredbutton · 8 months
Text
Endlessly Falling
joaquin torres x sunshine!reader/ofc
3k words
she was falling, and there was only one person she trusted to catch her.
set in the same universe as this fic
warnings: angst, fear, canon-typical violence but i think it's pretty vague, reader/ofc has a fear of heights, idk let me know if i'm missing anything
note: idk if this is any good, i wrote it in like four hours unedited while i was trying to distract myself from burnout from work. feedback is always welcome :) also let me know if you notice anything familiar about sunshine's backstory... idk maybe there's something there, maybe there's not. let me know what you think!
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She was running for her life. Again. She was really getting tired of this shit. 
She remembered a few weeks ago when the worst thing she had to worry about was getting her essays turned in on time, emailing her professors, and working on her thesis, back when she was just a grad student. Since meeting Joaquin, she found herself in trouble a lot more than she ever expected to be. 
That wasn’t to say this was the first time she’s ever had to run for her life, or that meeting Joaquin was the start of her getting into trouble. Or that meeting Joaquin was her first time helping a superhero. No, she had plenty of experience with this sort of thing. She remembered when she was a teenager the few (multiple) times when her dad’s work followed him home (literally) and having to hide or having to flee her own home just so he could take care of it. Terrifying as it was, she had learned to be good at finding the best hiding spots on the fly. And she still remembered when she was nineteen being trapped in a cage with a monster (who, to be fair, was her dad, but we won’t go into the specifics this time), with the intention of being mauled to death alongside a woman she barely knew. And just a year later, having to travel halfway across the world to help a superhero with identity issues to stop a cult and rescue her dad from said cult (her dad had a bad habit of getting himself into trouble, but he would always tell her that her uncle was even worse). 
Yeah. This wasn’t her first rodeo. And she was positive it wouldn’t be her last, either. 
But she sure as hell didn’t miss having to do this. 
Sam and Joaquin had both understood and agreed initially that they needed her help if they were going to stop this underground terrorist group. Bucky had been on the fence about it at first, thinking her too nice and innocent to get involved, but once she had proved herself in a fight the first time he had realized he had jumped the gun on judging her. She was a formidable opponent while still being able to maintain her happy nature and her positive, love-for-life attitude. 
Which was why she found herself in this position for the first time in years. She hadn’t meant to cause a distraction, she had just been sent by the men on a reconnaissance mission to one of their underground meetings while the three of them tried to take out their base of operations nearby. Even to her, the meeting was much bigger than she had been expecting, and the sound of the men updating her on their progress through her earpiece was only confirmation: they were a much bigger threat than they had initially believed. She had been listening to one of the leaders of the group as he slowly but surely began riling everyone up, his voice raising as he spoke to them about forcing order to the world and subjecting the people who had no care for them. He was nearly shouting at that point, and it was honestly beginning to frighten her. She was so ensnared by his words that the sound of Sam yelling through the earpiece completely threw her off her guard. 
“GET DOWN! IT’S A TRAP!”
The sound of gunshots on the other end of her earpiece caused her to gasp in fear, which caused her to slap her hand over her mouth in dread. She was scared for her friends, but she was also terrified at the sudden silence that happened in the room next to her after she did so. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as what was surely only a few seconds felt like years as she awaited what would happen. She didn’t dare breathe as she waited, her back pressed against the wall to make herself as small as possible. 
“Someone’s here with us. Take care of it.”
The leader’s words were just loud enough for her to hear, but it was more than enough to set her off at a sprint to get out of there. 
She had been running for what had felt like forever when she finally thought to check in with the others to make sure they were okay, and to find out what the hell happened. 
“What the hell happened?” she shouted through the earpiece. 
“They knew we were coming! It was a setup!” Sam shouted back. He and Bucky were fighting off terrorists left and right as they themselves tried to get out of the base. Their initial plan had been to find the leaders at the base and to either a) reason with them and get them to come willingly (Sam’s idea) or b) stop them by any means necessary (Bucky’s idea), but the three men had been met with nearly an entire army once they got there like they knew they were coming. The place had been booby trapped of all things, tipping the group off so that they opened fire seconds later. They all knew that if they were in trouble, she would be too. “Get outta there, now!”
“I’m trying!”
And she was. Unfortunately for her, the place was a maze, and with about ten angry men chasing after her, it was hard for her to focus on where all of the hallways led to rather than just trying to get away from them. Her fear was making it hard to think, and luckily it was making it hard to think about the fear itself. She just needed to get away. 
The sound of Joaquin’s voice in her ear immediately began to uncloud her mind. “Find a way to go up! Stairs, ladder, window, anything! I’ll come find you!”
She wasn’t able to think about how he would be able to do so, but she listened to him anyway. She trusted him enough to believe he was telling the truth. 
Truthfully, Joaquin didn’t know if he was. He had split from Sam and Bucky once they had opened fire, Sam telling him to fly out of there to find their superior and tell them all they had learned about the group. He often thought about what it would be like to jump out as Falcon, but he wasn’t exactly able to reflect on those expectations when he was in the middle of a life or death situation. He thought once he did so that he was in the clear, but there had been a couple of helicopters right outside waiting for him. So, they had air support. Of fucking course they did. 
Joaquin was sure that their superior would get an earful from Sam once they were finally on the clear (if they ever got to that point). He was doing his best to take out the people shooting at him from the helicopters, making sure they stayed focused on him so they wouldn’t start shooting elsewhere, but the entire time his focus was elsewhere. He couldn’t keep his mind off of her, and he was riddled with guilt. 
Joaquin was the one who had fought so hard to convince Sam and Bucky that she could help them on this mission. While they had both known she could handle herself, they were hesitant to let her go into the field with them, especially on a mission like this. She would have to get about as close as she physically could to this terrorist group without them finding out she was there, and they weren’t willing to risk her getting hurt or worse if something went wrong. It was the last thing Joaquin ever wanted, but he saw how hard she fought to convince them. He saw her conviction and determination, and more than anything, he saw that she truly cared. She just wanted to help, and Joaquin knew that. She was running for her life right now because he was the one to convince them to let her help. 
She was in danger because of him. 
He was right about her needing to find a way up. She had found a door that led her to a staircase all the way up to the roof. She took a quick glance over her shoulder to see how close the men were, finding them far away enough for her to be able to lock the door behind her. If she wasn’t running for her life, she would’ve thought about how it definitely seemed like a safety issue for the door to even have a lock, but she was more concerned about buying herself at least a minute or two to get to the top. She didn’t look back again after she locked the door and began to race up the stairs, not until she heard the sound of a gunshot blowing the door open. The information that they did have guns with them scared her more than she thought it would. They liked the chase, and they didn’t want the end to be quick if they did catch her. The thought made her blood run cold, and a new wave of adrenaline filled her as she continued to run. 
Once she reached the roof, once again locking the door behind her to buy herself some time, she looked out to try to find Joaquin anywhere nearby, but he was nowhere to be found. She braced herself as she looked over the edge of the building she was on, and the realization of just how far up she was was quick to set in. She hadn’t realized how long the staircase was nor how far up she had run, but the sight of the city what looked like miles beneath her caused her heart to beat faster for a completely different reason. She could handle most things—monsters, cults, running for her life. Heights weren’t one of those things. 
“Joaquin,” she said. She tried to steady the tremble in her voice, trying to control her breathing. 
“I’m on my way!” he shouted back, trying to dodge the helicopter that was currently shooting at him. He was not on his way, but he needed to be soon if he wanted any chance of getting to her in time. 
The sound of the men chasing her banging on the door to the roof made her jolt, dread filling her veins like venom. They were throwing themselves against the door to get it open. Unsuccessfully, sure, but the knowledge that they had the means to get the door open with their weapons made her believe that this was just a sadistic scare tactic. The thought made her sick. 
“Joaquin,” she warned. She was unable to hide the fear she felt from her voice. Even she could hear her voice shake. 
So could Joaquin, and he knew they were both running out of time. Taking out the pilot in the final helicopter, he set the thrusters of his wings to full power before jetting off to where she was. 
“I’m on my way!” he shouted once again, but he knew that he wouldn’t be there in enough time. Thinking fast, he added, “You’re gonna have to jump!”
Her stomach dropped at the thought. “I can’t,” she whispered. But she knew she was running out of options. The men chasing her would get tired of playing with her, and in seconds they would be out there with her. She’d have nowhere else to go. Her hands were already shaking as the reality of what she had to do was setting in. 
And she was right. The sound of the door to the roof being blown open made her jump, and the sight of the men closing in on her filled her with a fear she hadn’t felt in a long time. 
“JOAQUIN!”
“JUMP!”
She didn’t think. She ran to the edge of the building and jumped, right before they could grab her. 
She’s fallen before. She’s fallen out of tall trees when she was little, her dad constantly scolding her for climbing trees when she knew she might fall, but that’s why she always did it—to get better at climbing without falling. She’s jumped off of high platforms, trying to get down from where she was to try to help someone who needed it. She’s been thrown off of the side of a building before, but even then that was done when she was unconscious. This was something different. Being in free fall for so long, that sinking feeling in her gut never leaving but slowly getting worse as she seemed to fall closer to the ground in slow motion. The air whipped at her as if punishing her for jumping, her fear only growing as it felt like she would be endlessly falling. 
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think to breathe. She couldn’t think, her mind somewhere up in the clouds that she seemed to remember falling through when she jumped. Her eyes were dripping with tears she couldn’t stop as the cool air burned them as she went. Another punishment, she thought. The air was thin, too, choking her up even more. She couldn’t find her voice, though if she did, she wouldn’t have been able to think about calling for Joaquin again. She couldn’t think about whether he would catch her in time. She just had to continue falling. 
Joaquin’s heart raced as he did, his sights set on her as he flew to catch her. He could hear the fear in her voice when she said she couldn’t jump, it had been clear as day to him that she was afraid to. He hadn’t wanted to make her do it, but he knew she had to. And he knew he would rather die than let her hit the ground. He wouldn’t let her get hurt again. He would make sure of it. 
When he was finally close enough, his arms reaching for her, Joaquin felt time stop. He couldn’t think. The only thing he could focus on as he reached for her was her eyes. Those eyes he had seen could hold such light and happiness as he had come to know her, those same eyes that were squeezed shut from fear and wet with tears he knew she couldn’t stop. Once he was close enough, he wrapped his arms around her tightly, never daring to let go. 
Once she felt him surrounding her, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, aware enough to not choke him but clutching onto him like her life depended on it, because it did. There was nothing that would get her to let go. And now that he was holding her, she could finally feel herself breathe again. 
They were both silent as he flew them away from the building, away from all of the bad men who wished them harm, away from where she felt for a moment she was falling to her death. The pit in her stomach from falling was gone, replaced with something else she couldn’t place. She still felt sick feeling her insides shaken so much, but it wasn’t just that. She felt a pull inside her, not in her stomach but maybe in her chest. She couldn’t know for sure, still barely able to think or process what was going on. The only thing she knew for sure at that moment was that she felt well and truly safe wrapped up in Joaquin’s arms. 
Joaquin finally landed them on the roof of another building, much much shorter than the one she had jumped from and miles away. With the way she was clutching onto his back, he knew she could use a moment to stand on her own two legs and catch her breath. Once his feet touched the ground, he slowly eased her down as well, taking care to handle her gently for fear of causing her any more grief. His arms didn’t leave her even as she got her footing, nor did they when she leaned heavily against him once she was standing. She was still gripping him for dear life, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. He was sure he was holding her in a similar way. 
“Are you okay?” he asked after a few minutes. He always made sure that she was, and if she wasn’t, he always did what he could to help. 
“…Yeah,” she answered slowly, barely audible if it weren’t for her mouth being so close to his ear. “Just… need a minute.” 
Joaquin knew that they didn’t have a minute. He should’ve already been with his superior by now, finishing up with the debrief as they waited for Sam and Bucky to return as well. But he wasn’t concerned with any of that right now. The only thing he cared about was the woman in his arms, shaking like a leaf as she tried to calm down. For her, he would make the time. 
He readjusted his arms around her so that he was hugging her instead, one arm around her waist while the other came up to her shoulders, his hand holding her head against him and stroking her hair. He tried to steady his breathing in a way that she could follow, willing his own heart rate to slow down as he tried to help her calm down. 
She wasn’t the only one who had felt like they were endlessly falling. The only difference was, his had been slow and steady, hardly noticing it was happening until it hit him all at once. And he knew he would fall again and again if it meant getting to hold her like this. 
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rocketrhap3000 · 9 months
Text
just a tickle
summary: while bucky is away with sam, you come down with a nasty cold, worrying him to no end
a/n: old fic rewritten for bucky :)
warnings: reader is sick with a cold, other than that this is all just comfort/fluff 🤍
my main masterlist
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“Miss you more,” Bucky’s voice crackles through the speaker of your phone.
“And Alpine misses you, too, of course,” you giggle, reaching over to scratch the white cat snuggled up on the bed beside you, taking up the space where Bucky normally would be. For being just a little thing, Alpine sure knows how to sprawl out and take up space.
“She’s taking up the bed, isn’t she?” Bucky knowingly chuckles, settling back into the bed of the motel he’s staying in with Sam.
“Not anymore than you do,” you tease, making Bucky roll his eyes and laugh. You join him, but your laughter soon turns into a small fit of coughing.
“Y’okay, Sweetheart?” he asks, and once you catch your breath, your throat feels dry and scratchy.
“Yeah,” you breathe, clearing your throat one last time. “Just a tickle or something.”
“You sure?”
“I’m fine, Bucky, seriously,” you chuckle. “Just choked on my own air.”
“Alright. But you know I worry about you when I’m away,” he reasons.
“I do know that. But you don’t need to worry. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself,” you feign annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Oh yeah? ‘Cause last time I checked, you still need me to rub your back to fall asleep,” he taunts right back.
“Alright…” you give up your tough act and giggle like a little girl. “You do give the best back rubs.”
“Wish I could be there to give you one now,” he frowns.
“Only a few more days, Buck,” you remind him and yourself, trying not to get too sad before you have to fall asleep.
Bucky had told Sam a while ago that he wanted to step away from missions for a least a little bit. But this one was urgent, so Bucky agreed to break out of his mini retirement and assist Sam and Torres. It was supposed to be a short mission; in the States, quick, in and out, no complications. But the issue was bigger than expected, pushing out Bucky’s arrival back home an additional second week instead of just one.
“Feels like forever, though,” he sighs. “Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself, Sweets. Stay hydrated, get enough to eat, make sure you get enough sleep, all that good stuff. And I know it's late there, so I’m gonna let you go so that you can rest up.”
“Okay” you nod, knowing that although he can be overprotective of you, he only has your health and wellbeing as his priority, making it hard for him to be away. “I love you,” you hum timidly, sinking down below the covers to hide your mouth as you clear your throat again: the scratch in your throat seeming to stick around a little bit.
“I love you, too. Get some rest. And let me know if that tickle turns into something more, alright? I can come home early if you need me to,” he tells you.
“James, I’m fine,” you remind him. “Please don’t lose sleep worrying about me. I promise I will be fine, and then you can baby me all you want when you get back,” you wink.
“I certainly will, Sweets,” he laughs. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” you echo, then turn the screen so that he can see Alpine. “Say goodnight to Dad, Girly.”
Bucky coos his goodnight to the kitten before telling you he loves you once more, just for good measure, with his promise to call you in the morning. Then you end the call, connect your phone to its charger, and cuddle up to Alpine as you sink into a deep sleep.
~♡~
The next morning, your alarm for work blares, and you wake up feeling awful. Your nose is fully plugged, your ears are itchy, and it feels like there’s something stuck in your throat every time you swallow. You groan, weakly pushing Alpine off of you as you realize you’re drenched in your own sweat.
With an exasperated sigh, you kick the covers off of your burning body to let the ceiling fan cool you off. But almost instantly, goosebumps prickle over your skin, and you start to shiver, which seemingly triggers a nasty, sharp coughing fit.
What the hell? Did that simple tickle really turn into a full blown cold? And overnight?
And as if he’s subconsciously telling you “I told you so” your phone rings on the nightstand beside you, with none other than the caller ID of your wonderful boyfriend’s smiling face on your screen.
“Hi,” you answer, trying your best to hide the rasp in your voice.
“Good morning, Sweetheart,” Bucky’s chipper voice greets, very much a contrast to yours. “How’d you sleep?”
“Fine,” you lie, thankful that he decided not to FaceTime you today because you can only imagine how awful you look if this is how you're feeling.
“You don’t sound fine,” he says in an accusatory, yet worried tone. “Sweetheart, are you feeling alright?”
“I’m fine, Bucky, I promise,” you lie again, yanking the blankets back over your shivering, sticky body. “Just… still waking up.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he hums apologetically. He knows your schedule, so he knew you’d be awake by now. But now he hears the exhaustion in your voice and feels bad. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No, no,” you assure him. “Woke up just a few minutes ago. Just a little foggy this morning.”
“You sure that’s all?” he pushes. He knows you like the back of his hand, so of course he suspects something is up. Even through the poor connection of the phone call, he can hear something off in your tone.
“I promise. Please don’t worry about me,” you coo to him, although you wish you could just have him here to make you feel better.
But you know you have to hold strong so that he doesn’t drop everything at work to come back home to you. You know how important these missions are to him, but even though he always says nothing is more important to him than you, you’d never forgive yourself if he cut things short just because you have a little cough.
“Always worryin’ about you, pretty girl,” he rasps. “Hey, I’ll call you tonight, okay?”
“Okay,” you agree. “Have a good day, Buck.”
“You, too, Sweets. And please, do not hesitate to call me if you aren’t feeling good. I can come home to you, okay?” he reminds you.
You want to fight back. You want to insist you’re fine. But if you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t even know if you’ll be able to drag yourself out of bed to get ready for work.
“Okay,” you simply say. “Call tonight. I love you.”
“Will do. I love you, too, Sweetheart.”
You hang up, then groan, then roll over to face the furry friend in bed beside you.
“Girly, I think we’re calling in sick today.”
~♡~
Two days pass, and although your fever breaks, your cough only seems to get worse, meaning it’s getting harder to hide your state from Bucky. Every night on FaceTime, he notices your tired eyes and how you sniffle your nose every few minutes, in addition to the way you put yourself on mute to (not so) subtly cough into your arm.
You’ve only taken one actual sick day and have been working from home since, though you haven't completed much work because of how awful you feel. The best you can do is Zoom call into your meetings, which isn’t terrible since you can do them in sweatpants.
But one afternoon while you’re lounging on the couch - when you should be at work - Bucky randomly calls you.
Your heartbeat increases as you watch your phone ring.
Shoot. He doesn’t know you took off work, but if he finds out, then he’ll know something is up.
You feel bad for not picking up, but in the end, it’s for his own good. You don’t want him to put this project on hold for you. You can take care of yourself.
A text comes through next.
Hey! Just checking in. Can you call?
Before you even get the chance to try to formulate a text back, he’s requesting to FaceTime you. Instinctually, you decline the call.
Sweets pick up :(
He calls again.
And you give in.
You answer, the call connects, and within just another second, his smiling face is filling your screen.
“Hey, Sweetheart,” he grins, but his smile drops and confusion fills his face instead once he sees your background. "Why aren't you at work? Are you at home?"
You decide to give up your act, not having the energy to pretend any longer. You your head slowly and shamefully, then let out a nasty cough.
“(Y/n), you’re sick,” he croons.
“No I’m not. I’m fi–” you’re cut off by another shrill coughing fit.
“Bullshit. You’re sick and you’ve been lying to me,” he lovingly scolds you. “How long have you been out of work?”
“This is my third day,” you sigh. “Technically, I’m supposed to be working from home but the best I can do is Zoom meetings. My boss is chill about it, though.”
“Sweetheart, why didn’t you just tell me you’re sick? I can come home early,” he says like he has a hundred times before.
“Bucky, I didn’t want you to drop everything just for me.”
“You’re so much more important than any of this, (Y/n),” he shakes his head. “It’s why I asked to be taken off missions in the first place. You're worth more than any of this and you deserve my time and attention."
“But this is important to you, too. I know you always follow through with your commitments. You’re just so dedicated like that. I don’t want you to just up and leave. I didn’t want to be another worry for you.”
“Sweetheart, you know I’m going to worry about you no matter what. Especially when I’m gone like this. I wish you would have told me you’ve been sick.”
“I’m sorry,” you hang your head and sniffle. “I do miss you, but I don’t want to be an interruption.”
“Stop that,” he chastises you with a smile. “You. Are. More. Important."
“I know,” you sigh.
“I feel like you don’t, though,” his adorable smile turns into a slight frown. “(Y/n), you don’t have to do everything for yourself. I am always here for you… well, not physically right now. But I love you and I want to take care of you. If you’d just let me.”
“I love you, too,” you echo bashfully. “And I'll let you take care of me.”
“Good,” he smiles again, and proudly this time. "But you have to promise to text me honest updates about how you’re feeling. Do you have a fever?”
“I only had one for the first day. It’s really just a bad cough now. And the occasional body ache.”
“Sweetheart,” he groans. “How am I supposed to stay another week when I know you’re feelin’ sick?”
“Willpower?” you suggest feebly.
“I have no willpower when it comes to you, pretty girl. I’m absolutely weak for you. You know that,” he winks.
“We’ve been apart for longer, Bucky,” you giggle. “You’ll make it, I promise. And I will, too. Stay with Sam. Finish this mission. Then come straight home to me.”
"I will," he promises.
James Barnes is many things. He’s brave, he’s strong, and he’s confident. But he’s also compassionate, loving, and absolutely head over heels for you.
And to be honest, you’re not sure how you’ll make it another week without him, either.
~♡~
Four more days pass - meaning only two more until Bucky will be home - and your cold has completely left your body. After doubling up on vitamins, staying hydrated, and resting at home, you have made a full recovery. Maybe that cold was just your body’s way of forcing you to slow down and take a break.
Last night on the phone, Bucky had been more than relieved to hear you’ve been feeling much better. However, for some reason, he hasn’t called you this morning.
You brush it off, simply assuming he’s just busy. But what makes you worry is that he hasn’t even responded to your good morning text, either. In fact, your message isn’t even marked as ‘Delivered’.
You try to think reasonably. Maybe they’re somewhere there’s no service. Maybe he has his phone on the data-saving setting. It could be plenty of things, but your mind wanders to worrying about him. After all, you worry about him just as much as he worries about you.
To redirect your thoughts, you pull up the grocery app on your phone to order some essentials before Bucky gets back, since the fridge is getting a little bare. Then, you make yourself busy with tasks around the house such as laundry, dishes, and vacuuming up so much of Alpine’s white fur off the floors and couches that you’re shocked she still has an entire coat covering her body.
A few hours later, the doorbell rings, and you know it's probably the delivery person with your groceries. You glance at your phone to check the time (and your messages) and Bucky still hasn’t texted you.
With worry heavy on your mind, you toe over to the entryway, anyways.
But when you open the door, your gaze falls upon Bucky, in the flesh, with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder.
“Hi, Sweets,” he greets with a smile, dropping the bag and opening his arms.
“You’re not groceries!” you gasp, immediately jumping into his arms, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, and curling your legs around his torso.
“No, I’m not,” he laughs, squeezing you tight and holding you close to him. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
And upon hearing the call of her human father, Alpine comes prancing to the front door, mewling happily. Bucky manages to toss his bag into the house, corral Alpine back inside with him, and close the front door, all while you cling to him like a koala.
“Oh my god,” you sigh into his neck, taking in his aroma - slightly sweaty and definitely in need of a hot shower, but yet still so comforting. You lift your head to glance at him. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you more,” he caresses the outsides of your face with his large hands as you uncurl your legs from him to stand on the ground. “Gonna take care of you all weekend, Sweets. You’re not gonna lift a single finger.”
“Bucky, I’m not sick anymore,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his torso. “And you promised you wouldn’t come home early!”
“Sam overheard our call and knew I missed you. He demanded I go home to you. And I’m so glad you’re better,” he coos. “But I don’t need an excuse to spoil my girl,” he smirks as he sweeps you off your feet and makes a beeline for the bedroom.
“Bucky,” you can’t contain your laughter, watching how Alpine trails behind her dad in anticipation for some attention, too.
“You’re on bed rest, Sweets,” he whispers, gently laying you down onto the bed.
“Alright. But only if you keep me company,” you pout your lips, tugging at the fabric of his shirt to get him to roll into bed with you, and he slips right beside you, coddling you to his chest and holding you tight.
A shower can wait - you need to be in his arms right now.
“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone,” he says with a dainty kiss to your forehead.
~~~
thank you so much for reading! reblogs and feedback are absolutely the best 🫶
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breadtheft1796 · 2 years
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Let's properly upset Zemo sounds like a wip i wanna know more about 😂🥰
thank you! <3
there was this brilliant headcanon i'm struggling to find the source for. it's based in the nebulous parole universe where sam and bucky stumble upon a family photograph in one of zemo's properties and bucky recognises heinrich from his time at hydra. only zemo didn't know and takes it very badly.
ask about my wips?
Sam watch caught between confusion and urgent concern as Zemo’s leather-clad knuckles, strained with his closed-fisted grip on the picture, pressed into the bridge of Bucky’s nose with enough focus to force his head back. And Bucky allowed him to do it.
Whatever fight had brewed in Zemo bled out of Bucky with equal speed; that is to say, it abandoned him all at once, seeming to leave behind nothing except exhaustion and the dregs of pity flickering around it.
“You didn’t know.” It’s not a question. It probably should have been but Bucky was certain it would have been a redundant one either way. The bitter, angry honesty gushing from Zemo’s pours was enough to drown all three of them and Zemo looked like he had no intention of trying to break the surface.
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notafunkiller · 7 months
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Bucky's here
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Summary (Prompt): “Are you sure a kiss is all you want?”
Pairing: thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings: teasing, pet names, no mention of y/n
Word Count: <1K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: This story is based on @marvelouslizzie's prompt
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
You’re not sure what’s worse: the way John talks about Bucky to you or how close his face is to yours.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion, did I, Walker?”
“You’re with The Winter Soldier.”
You roll your eyes at his tone. You wonder what in your attitude made him think he has the right to speak like this. “Is that supposed to be an insult? At least he didn’t choose to get the super soldier serum out of weak-” You stop talking when he slaps the wall, right next to your head, keeping his hand there, probably trying to intimidate you. You flinch because of the sudden movement, but you don’t let him use this to his advantage. “You are so weak!”
“I was Captain America, you can’t say I am weak.”
“You were, yes. Past tense.” You snort, amused by his confidence, and look at his hand. “Drop it before my Winter Soldier boyfriend comes and breaks it for you.”
“He can’t do that since we got the same powers.”
You let out a laugh that echoes through the whole room. Does he really believe that?
“Is that what you tell yourself? That’s... interesting.”
“Very interesting, and I think we should test that.”
Bucky’s here! You look at the door, satisfied to see him coming toward you while taking off his gloves. What surprises you is the fact that John doesn’t move an inch as he just stares at Bucky. How delusional is this guy? Bucky was right, there’s no hope left for him.
“You can’t do anything to me, Barnes!”
“If you mean my parole, you don’t need to worry about it.” There is something about Bucky’s cynical smile that makes you feel very happy. It actually turns you on. You like his grumpiness, his sassiness, and his style.
“He thinks he’s on your level,” you remark. “Can you just,” you don’t have to finish the sentence as you wave around because you know that would be clear for him, and before John can even anticipate what is happening, he’s a few inches away from you with his hand behind his back, trying to fight Bucky’s hold. “Thank you, baby!”
“Want me to break his fingers?”
You pretend to think for a few seconds. It’d be fun, but also a waste of time, and all you want is to fuck the shit out of Bucky the moment you get home. Or maybe in the car. Or maybe in the bathroom. “Let’s go, I don’t want to be in the same room with him anymore.”
Bucky lets go quickly as he notices the neediness in your voice, but not before whispering something that you can’t quite catch, but John freezes and that is enough for you.
You smile and takes Bucky’s metal hand to you drag him out.
“You okay?” He asks concerned.
“I am perfect. You’re my hero.”
He stays completely still for a second, and you can’t help but gasp when you feel his lips on your jaw. He moves so fast.
“Your hero?”
You smile. “You’re always my hero, baby.”
“And doesn’t your hero deserve a reward?”
You look at him surprised, bringing your hand to his cheek. You wanted to touch his face all day. “Whatever you want. I can give you anything.”
He makes sure to check if there is anyone around before he grabs your ass. “A kiss.”
So innocent...
You smirk and happily get on your tip-toes to make him lean in a little less. He’s not patient at all, and the moment you press your lips on his, he immediately licks your bottom lip in order for you to get the idea and open your mouth.
As soon as he deepens the kiss, you forget where you are. It’s crazy how kissing can be so addicting and overwhelming every time. God, this man knows how to use his tongue! And his hands...
“There we go, sergeant,” you say, trying to catch your breath after breaking the kiss suddenly just to test his reaction.
He opens his eyes confused and squeezes your ass.
“Hmmm. Are you sure a kiss is all you want?”
“I’m gonna make you beg tonight, mark my words, doll!” It’s a warning you’ve been waiting for. You grab his chin, satisfied, and kiss his cheeks before dragging him to the car.
You wonder if you’re even gonna make it home.
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jadedvibes · 1 year
Note
Some Bucky to brighten your day. ❤️
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Last First Kiss
Pairing: tfatws!Bucky x reader
Warnings: Excessive fluff, first kisses, soft Bucky in Louisiana for New Year's Eve.
Word Count: 600
A/N: Thank you for this sweet @navybrat817. This truly brightened my day and inspired a nye drabble! Hope everyone has a very Happy New Year! 💙✨
“So a little birdie told me you’ve never had a new year’s kiss…” Bucky leaned against the wood railing beside you, taking in the sunset on the bayou.
Your eyes widened before you took a deep breath. “I’m gonna kill him.” Ever the meddler, Sam would tell your secret to the first guy you’d liked in a long time. 
“Yeah, I’ve been there,” he let out a laugh. “Sam always knows the exact right thing to do to get under your skin, it’s a gift really.” 
You shrugged casually. “He overheard me telling Sarah. It’s no big deal.” It really wasn’t, but you knew why Sam was annoyingly butting in. He’d also heard you telling his sister about how smitten you were with his dark-haired best friend. 
“Well let me know if you want to change that.”
Heat rushed to your cheeks, a small smile playing at your lips. There was no way. “The killing him part or the kiss?” 
Bucky smirked, charmed and hopeful that you’d agree. “I haven’t had one in a while, so keep me posted,” he checked his watch. Only a few more hours until midnight. The Wilson household had planned a lowkey evening for the kids later, and the both of you would be in attendance. 
He’d secretly had a crush on you for a little longer than you had on him and with Sam’s encouragement he figured there was no better time to do something about it.
“Haven’t committed a murder or given a kiss in a while?” You smiled sheepishly, trying awfully hard to deflect. Of all the reactions to finding out you’d never had a new year’s kiss, this was the last one you expected. Sam’s best friend, a guy you thought was off-limits, offering to change things for you.
He let out a laugh, you were too adorable. “Think about it, sweetheart. I hear it’s good luck,” he playfully shot you a wink before heading back to the barbeque. 
Exhaling a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you turned back to look at the setting sun over the calm waters. Colorful, peaceful, and captivating.
Later that night.
Sam nudged Sarah before shouting. “Guys it's 12:04, you’ve rung in the new year! You can break it up now.”
Grinning against Bucky’s lips, you felt your cheeks warm again. Busted.
Bucky begrudgingly pulled away from you, turning to glare at Sam. “Just getting as much luck from this as we can, man. Feel free to look away,” he muttered breathlessly before meeting your gaze with a soft shy smile. His thumb stroked your jawline, noting how beautiful you were up close. 
He went from menacing to cute in a split second. How did he do that? It didn’t really matter because the way he looked at you, well you sure could get used to it. 
“Yeah, look somewhere else,” you teasingly scowled at Sam before tugging at Bucky's henley and kissing him again. He cupped your face and poured himself into the kiss. He thought he was out of practice, but it surprised him how easily he fell back into step with you. Soft and sweeter than anything you could’ve imagined. Warm and careful with just the right amount of desire to leave you aching. Nothing you could have expected, yet everything you silently wished for. 
Neither of you knew it then, but what a lucky year it would turn out to be. Never did you imagine that the man that would be your first new year’s kiss would also be your last; for many years in between, and every day after. 
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lostgirlmuseum · 4 months
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The Swan and the Soldier
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^made w/ pinterest
Pairing: tfatws!Bucky x f!dancer!reader
Summary: Bucky is signed up to act in the Nutcracker against his will. But it isn’t all bad. At least not after he meets the cute costume designer. 
Words: 5.6k (oops)
Warnings: Mention of an injury + brief description of pain, poor writing at times, lemme know if I missed anything
A/N: I really hope this isn't complete dog shit
(Dividers by me😎)
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“You want me to what?”
Bucky dropped his sandwich back onto his plate.
“I was gonna do it but I’m too busy to make every rehearsal.”
Bucky had been staying in Louisiana for the past month, finally taking a break from going from fight to fight. Sam encouraged him to stay with him at Sarah’s place, which Bucky did for a while, but after a couple of weeks, he decided to rent his own place. He was still near to Sam, and was at his house nearly every day, seeing as he was only a fifteen-minute drive away. Bucky just felt like less of a burden this way. 
“And I’m not busy?” Bucky countered, staring at Sam from across the kitchen table, where they were taking a quick lunch break before getting back to the boat.
“Well—” 
“Shut up.”
“It would mean so much to AJ. It’s his first dance recital and I think he would be a lot less nervous if someone he knew was on stage with him.”
“I’m not a ballerina, Sam.”
“You don’t have to be!” He quickly uttered, putting down his own sandwich. “They just need a couple of parent volunteers to step in and play the adults at the beginning of the show.”
“I haven’t liked dancing since the 40’s. And I don’t know how I feel about being on stage. Would I have to wear a costume?”
“It’s the Nutcracker.” Sam raised an eyebrow and gave Bucky a judgmental once over. “I don’t think it fits the show to have you dressed like an angsty motorcyclist.”
“Sam, I don’t think I can—”
“Uncle Bucky!” A cheerful voice entered the room as AJ came bounding up to the table.
“Hey, kid,” Bucky smiled, giving the boy a quick fist bump. 
“Uncle Sam told me you would be a part of my recital!”
“He said what now?”
“What?” AJ asked, oblivious.
“Nothing, I—AJ, could you give Uncle Sam and me a second?”
AJ nodded and skipped back outside into the sun. Bucky glared over at Sam.
“So maybe I jumped the gun a bit…”
“Samuel.”
“You can say no,”
“You know I can’t say no now!” Bucky flung his hands out, exasperated. 
“You can! You’ll just disappoint him. But if that’s what you want to do—” Sam trailed off, taking a bite out of his turkey and provolone. 
“This is manipulation.”
“Is it working?” Sam mumbled and swallowed.
Bucky shook his head and stared at his plate. “You owe me.”
“Big time! Promise.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Bucky mumbled, planting his face in his palms.
“Rehearsals are Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Sam got up from the table and grabbed his now empty plate, “you’re making the kid really happy.”
“Yeah, yeah. To be clear, I am doing this for him. Not you. I don’t give a shit about you.” He pointed.
“Love you too, Buddy.” 
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Bucky found himself that very Thursday at the ballet studio, in a small group of parents, as a petite young woman—well, she looked about 60, but compared to Bucky, she was young—introduced herself, a southern accent clear in her cheery tone.
“Welcome parents and volunteers! Most of you already know me, but I’m Ms. Cindy, the head of this program and this year’s Nutcracker! I’d like to start by thanking all of you for taking time out of your busy schedules to be here and support us and your children. It’s you who keep this dance studio up and running, and I’m so grateful for that. Throughout today, you’ll each get called to get your measurements taken so we can be sure that the costumes are ready before the performance. And as for roles, we’ll figure that out at the end of class. I have to go teach the little ones, but feel free to take a seat and watch the choreography your students have been learning all season!”
Bucky followed the others, who seemed to already be acquainted with each other, into a small observing room attached to the studio where AJ was practicing. Bucky stuck himself in the back corner and watched AJ through the one-sided mirror for only a couple of minutes when his name was suddenly called.
“James Barnes?” 
Bucky looked up to see a woman standing in the doorway. He ignored the glances that turned his way as he followed the woman out the door.
Did they know who he was? Did they know what he had done? Or maybe they had no idea. Maybe they were judging him for not engaging with them in polite conversation, maybe they thought he was weird for hiding silently in the corner. 
Bucky pushed the thoughts out of his head as the (attractive, he might add,) woman opened the door for him into a new room. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t a closet either, and Bucky immediately noted the lines of clothing racks stuffed with colorful dresses that lined the walls.
“I just need to get your measurements quickly for your costume. I can take them now, or if you’re more comfortable, I can send you a list of measurements I need and you can get those numbers to me on Thursday if you’d prefer.” 
Bucky thought for a moment. He wasn’t entirely sure how to take his own measurements, and he sure as hell did not want Sam of all people helping him. On the other hand, having a stranger so close to him sounds embarrassing and stressful. But he saw the kindness in her eyes, and oddly enough, he felt he could trust her.
“Now is fine."
“Sounds good.” She gave the sweetest smile he had ever seen and told him where to stand. He took off his jacket with ease, feeling somewhat comfortable knowing he had a long-sleeved shirt under to hide his metal arm. He kept his leather gloves on, and she said nothing.
She demonstrated to him how to hold his arm, and he obeyed, holding his right arm out and bent at the elbow. She chatted as she brought the tape measure along his arm. “Which kid is yours?”
“Oh, none of them.” 
He noticed the subtle tilt of her head.
“I mean, I’m not a dad, but I’m AJ’s uncle. Well, a friend of his uncle but,”
Luckily, she stopped his ramble before he could truly embarrass himself.
“Oh, you’re Bucky?” She dropped the tape to her side and smiled. “I’ve met Sam a couple times, but I’ve heard all about you and him from Sarah.”
“Oh? All good things I hope?” 
He asked in a lighthearted tone, but in reality, he was terrified of the things she’d heard about him.
“Only good things.” She grinned and grabbed the pencil behind her ear to scribble a number on a chart.
“That’s a relief.” His eyes scanned the room, trying to think up conversation to fill the silence. “So are you a parent volunteer?”
“Not a parent, no. I used to be a part of this program growing up. It’s done so much for me, and I wanted to stay connected, so I help out here and there when I can. I mostly fit the costumes.”
“That’s cool.” 
Cool. Cool. Cool response Bucky. Ask her a question, dammit.
“Do you still dance?”
“Not anymore. Can you put both arms out to the side please?” She asked, and Bucky lifted his arms so she could measure his chest. She continued to make conversation as she wrapped the tape around him. “AJ is a great student. He has a lot of potential, he just needs to find his confidence. And he’s a great kid. You’re a lucky uncle.”
“I am,” Bucky responded, trying desperately to not freak out at how close she was to him, and how she was only going lower, as she moved to his waist.
She took a break to write down a couple more numbers and returned to him.
“Now I need a hip measurement, so I have to measure around your butt. Is that okay?”
Bucky gave a convincing nod. “Do what you gotta do.”
‘Do what you gotta do’? What the hell am I saying?
He avoided looking at her and held his breath as she brought the tape around his hips.
“Just a couple more measurements and you’ll be out of here,” she assured, dropping the tape from his hips. “You can put your arms down now.”
Bucky let his arms rest at his sides.
She quickly went about measuring his legs and finished a couple of minutes later.
“You’re all good to go, Mr. Barnes, thank you!” 
“You can call me Bucky,” he tried to hide his bashful smile and started to exit out the door, but stopped and turned at the last moment. “What was your name again?”
“Oh, I’m Y/N.” 
“It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” 
He liked the way it felt on his tongue. With that, he said goodbye and returned to the observing room.
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Thirty minutes later class was nearly over. All that was left on the agenda for the day was to form the groups.
“So it seems we have an odd number…Lois, is this everyone?” Ms. Cindy asked, looking over to her assistant.
“Everyone that signed up, yes.” Lois, a shorter girl with an auburn bob, tapped on a clipboard.
“Let’s just see how this goes. Mr. and Mrs. Tudor will be group one, Mr. and Mrs. Malone will be group two, Mrs. and Mrs. Cardoza will be group three, and that leaves Mr. Barnes…”
“We could have him be a single parent to his group?” Lois offered, looking up from her list.
“We could, but then who would he dance with at the party scene?”
Bucky swore he saw a literal lightbulb light up above Ms. Cindy’s head as her gaze fixated somewhere in the back of the room where you were simply passing by.
“Oh, Y/N? Dear?” She called in a uniquely falsetto voice.
“Yes, Ms. Cindy?” Y/N answered, pausing.
“I realize you’re already doing our costumes, but would you be interested in volunteering as one of the parents? We are short a person.”
“Oh, um…”
“You can think about it Dear. It’s no trouble if you feel that it’ll take up too much time, we appreciate you for your dedication to the costumes.” Ms. Cindy was careful to add.
Despite her initial hesitance, Y/N spoke up.
“I can do it.”
“Are you sure?” Ms. Cindy blinked, surprised by the answer.
“Yeah,” she breathed, “yes. I’ve already got measurements, all I need to do is submit an order. And I can’t tailor anything anyways until the shipment comes in.”
“A round of applause for our beautiful and dedicated Y/N, everyone!” Ms. Cindy cheered and began clapping her hands in a circle. The parents all joined in, and Bucky gave a quiet few claps. “That means Mr. Barnes and Y/N will play the fourth couple. Splendid!”
Lois tapped Ms. Cindy on the shoulder and pointed to her watch. Time was almost up. Ms. Cindy was fast to get back to business.
“Now let’s quickly assign each group their children, and then we can end rehearsal.”
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“Buck, I’ve got some good news.” Sam’s voice flowed through Bucky’s phone.
It was Tuesday morning, and Bucky had been up and dressed since seven in the morning, eager to pick AJ up, even though class wasn’t until 5 p.m. He was currently lying on the couch, watching the clock tick by.
“What, you finally learned to use the potty like a big boy?” Bucky mocked.
“It was one time. ONE. TIME. You know I don’t fuck with clowns!”
“I don’t like clowns either, but you don’t see me shitting myself at the Halloween Festival.” Bucky quietly chuckled.
“First of all, I didn’t ‘shit’ myself. I peed. A little. And second of all, I had a lot of hot chocolate beforehand, and my bladder was at max capacity, and—why the hell am I explaining this to you?”
“Because you know I’m never going to let you live it down.”
“Moving on,” Sam sighed, “I was calling to tell you that you don’t need to be in the performance with AJ anymore.”
Bucky shot up from his lying position. “What do you mean?”
“My schedule freed up a bunch so I can take AJ and be in the show now.”
“Oh.”
Bucky slumped back onto the cushions, dejection dripping from his voice. Sam clearly picked up on it.
“What do you mean, ‘Oh’? I thought this was good news for you. I know I forced it onto you and all, and your thing isn’t really being on stage in front of a bunch of people.”
Bucky picked at the edges of his fingers, carefully considering his next words.
“I mean it’s not my thing, but—I don’t know, I feel like I’ve committed. And I get to spend some time with AJ, y’know? And, truth be told, it’s not all bad.”
There was a pause on the line before Sam’s voice rang through.
“That’s awfully sweet Buck. And very out of character for you.”
“Shut the fuck up, I can be nice.”
“Yes, of course. Bucky Barnes, the world’s famous sweetheart, how could I forget?”
“I’m hanging up now,” Bucky warned.
“Bye, metal man.”
“Fuck off bird brain.” Bucky was about to hang up, but quickly added in a serious tone, “I’ll be there this afternoon to pick AJ up.”
“You’re a good man.”
“Whatever.”
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“Welcome back everybody!” Ms. Cindy’s high voice rang. “We are going to practice the beginning of the show where the families enter the party. We’ll take it group by group, so let’s start with group one, the Tudors. Your family is super excited for this party, so we’ll have you enter stage right and I need the children to be skipping and bubbly.”
Ms. Cindy instructed the groups one by one. Eventually, she got to Bucky’s group, which he shared with you and four kids, including AJ.
“And our final group, group four, is the family that does not want to attend. The parents should be trying to get the kids to smile, and at least act like they are happy to be there.”
Bucky let you take the lead and simply followed what you did. He walked beside you, stopped when you stopped, turned when you turned.
“Good, now make it look like you are trying to get the kids to smile.”
Bucky copied the way you pointed to your cheery smile and did his best to ignore the embarrassment bubbling in his chest. 
The comically grumpy—and much better actors than him—kids sighed and plastered on cheery expressions. 
“Good, and you can continue walking.” Ms. Cindy ordered.
Group four finished the short trek across the stage successfully. For such a simple task, Bucky had felt surprisingly nervous. 
Ms. Cindy quickly gave her praise and ordered everyone to start over. As Bucky and his group were going back to the line, she offered some advice.
“Y/N and Mr. Barnes, could you try holding hands? You don’t look as ‘coupley’ as everyone else.”
Bucky gulped. Of course you don’t look as ‘coupley’ as everyone else, all the other couples are actually couples, and married for God’s sake!
You, on the other hand, simply said “Okay.”
“Group one, go,” Ms. Cindy called, and the Tudors began to cross the makeshift stage.
The line moved forward, and Bucky with it. He began to sweat a little. 
Hold your hand? With my left hand? My metal hand?
She simply glanced at him and gave him a small smile.
“And group two,” Ms. Cindy called.
Everyone stepped forward.
The good news is that Bucky was wearing his gloves, but surely she’d notice his hand felt different and think he was weird. Although, did she already know about his arm situation? She did mention that she’d heard about him and Sam from Sarah. Maybe she already knew, and wouldn’t care?
“Group three!”
Bucky looked back at the kids trailing behind him and spotted AJ beaming right back at him. Suddenly, Bucky felt ridiculous. 
Bucky, you’re being an idiot. Be a man and hold her hand. It’s not that deep. You’re doing this for AJ.
“And four,”
He grabbed her hand and started to walk with her. The first thing he noticed was how small her hand felt in his. It gave him an unfamiliar tingly feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but it was better than anxiety.
He tried his best to puff out his chest and mimic her confidence as they walked. Bucky stopped halfway through, like they were supposed to, and turned to face the kids like last time. He pretended to point to his smile and finished the walk across the stage.
“Excellent! Let’s move on.”
Bucky managed to make it through the entire class without sweating his clothes off from nerves. 
“You ready to go, AJ?” 
AJ yelped, “Wait! I want you to meet one of my friends!” He dramatically waved over to a little girl with a sunflower barrette in her hair who came skipping over. “This is Ava.”
“Hi, Ava.” Bucky gave an awkward smile.
The little girl looked up at him unphased. 
“Hi, Mr. Bucky. So are you really a superhero?”
Straight to the point, huh? “Oh—um,”
“He is!” AJ butted in, “He’s friends with my Uncle Sam, they save the world all the time!”
Ava crossed her arms across her chest and jutted a leg out.
“So can you fly?” She squinted.
“Nope, I can’t fly.” Bucky began to rub the back of his neck.
“Can’t your Uncle Sam fly?” She asked, looking at AJ with skepticism.
“Yep!”
“So if you can’t fly, what can you do?”
Before Bucky could even begin to stutter, Y/N appeared.
“Hey, Ava! I think your mom is looking for you.” She said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.
“Okay, I gotta go. Bye AJ,” Ava quickly spouted and ran off towards the doors.
“Bye!” AJ shouted.
Bucky noticed Y/N holding his blue cap out to him.
“I think you forgot your hat.” She spoke softly. 
“Didn’t even realize, thanks.”
“It’s no problem, Bucky.”
Bucky was about to give a lopsided grin when AJ interjected,
“Only friends and family call him that.”
“Oh, I’m sorry! James, then.” She brought her hand to her cheek.
“No, no, Bucky is fine,” Bucky quickly corrected, “you can call me Bucky.”
“You’re sure? I don’t mean to overstep,”
“You aren’t, I like it when you call me Bucky.” 
He instantly felt his cheeks get warm at his confession. Before she could respond, he quickly changed the subject.
“Oh, by the way, I wanted to let you know that I can’t be here at the next rehearsal. AJ will be here, but I completely forgot that I’ve got an appointment that day.” A monthly check-in with Dr. Raynor that he forgot to move. “I don’t know if you want me to meet somewhere instead, or I can just come early on Tuesday and you can catch me up to speed or…I mean whatever you think is best.”
“If you want, we can meet on Friday at my place. I can send you the address if you’d like?”
“Yeah, yes, sure, let me get my phone—” he fumbled while grabbing it out of his pocket, “what’s your number?”
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“Hey, come on in!” Y/N appeared behind the crisp white door of a cute house, not unlike the Wilson’s, and gestured inside before grimacing. “Sorry, I should’ve asked before, are you cool with dogs?”
Bucky nodded.
She gave a sigh of relief and fully opened the door. Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the graying corgi staring back at him.
“This is Frank,” Y/N said, bending down to bring the panting dog into her arms.
“Hi, Frank.” Bucky greeted, giving the dog gentle pets with his right hand. “Your house is lovely,” he added after catching a glance around.
“Oh, thanks!” She smiled, walking into the living room area to set the dog down on the couch. “This is actually my parent’s house, I’m just house and dog sitting for the week while they’re out of town. Usually, I live in my apartment.”
“Is this where you grew up?” Bucky asked, eyes searching the place. He noted the multitude of picture frames lining the wall and the slightly worn couch.
“The first eighteen years of my life. I told myself I’d be out of Louisiana by the time I went to college, but clearly that didn’t happen.” 
“Where did you want to go?”
“New York, San Francisco, I don’t know, maybe even Australia or France.” she laughed at the absurdity and sighed. “C’est la vie,” 
Bucky stuck his thumbs in his pockets and stared down at his feet, unsure of what to do next.
“Can I get you anything? Water? Iced Tea? I can make some coffee. Are you hungry?”
“Just water is fine,”
“Sure, one second.”
Bucky took the opportunity to explore the room. His curiosity was set on the shelf beside the fireplace, and the multitude of shiny awards it adorned. 
Several faux gold figures of ballerinas and a plaque filled the space, as well as what looked to be a photo album. Bucky thought better than to touch it, however, he did notice the significant lack of dust on it compared to the trophies. 
“I see the obnoxious shrine of my dancing days has caught your attention.”
Bucky spun around, cheeks a little pink at the notion of being caught wandering. He was looking for the right thing to say as you took a seat on the couch and placed the water on the coasters.
“Looks like you’re an amazing dancer.” He nodded, hoping that it was the appropriate thing to say.
She ducked her head at the compliment. “I was okay.” She pointed to just beyond his shoulder at the photo album. “You can look at it if you want,” she offered, clearly sensing his curiosity.
Bucky grabbed the binder from its spot on the shelf and took a seat next to her. He slowly opened the book to the first page. 
There you were, 4 years old in a bright pink tutu, beaming at the camera. The page was covered in cute stickers and artistic swirls. 
“My mom has a knack for crafty things,” she said, vaguely gesturing to the book.
Bucky hummed and began to gingerly flip through the pages. It was odd but endearing seeing you change through each photo and page, but one thing that stayed constant was your eyes. In every photo they had the same sparkle, the same light. It looked so right on you, but he didn’t recognize it in you now.
Bucky stopped on the page dedicated to age 17 and marveled at the costume you were wearing. He couldn’t look away from the intricate feathers and sequins.
“That was for our Spring production of Swan Lake.”
Bucky turned to see a subtle smile on her lips. She was looking at the book, but it seemed as if she was seeing right through it.
“You were the swan?”
“Odette, yeah.”
Bucky turned the page once more, except this time there was no photo—just the outline of where one would be on a mostly blank page, minus the glittering bold number “18”.
“Anyway, the choreography,” she quickly chimed, her attitude dramatically changing, “I’ve got the video right here, we can watch it first.”
She snatched the album up and placed it back on the shelf before handing him her phone. Bucky watched the thirty-second clip of two of the volunteers—possibly the Tudors if he remembered correctly—as they danced a shockingly simple routine.
“That’s it?” He cocked an eyebrow. 
“That’s it.” She assured. “Ready to try it?”
“I might be a little rusty, it’s been a while since I’ve danced.”
She turned on the music and started counting under her breath.
They started by facing each other, their right palms in front of them, and placed against each other. They both took a step in, a step out and circled around the other to which they were now in the opposite places. She curtsied, he bowed, and then they repeated the step in, step out, switch. Now they stood next to each other, and she held her arm out over his. They took three steps forward, and the music grew into a faster tempo.
“Easy enough?” Y/N asked, grabbing her phone to stop the music.
It was suspiciously simple, Bucky thought, but then again, the adults were just a small addition to the show. It’s really about the kids.
“We can make this more interesting.” He remarked.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s try it again.” Bucky gestured to her phone.
She obliged and restarted the music.
They went through the routine again, all the way to the end at which the music began to speed up. As Y/N went to pause the music again, Bucky grabbed her arm and pulled her in. She gave a surprised gasp, but Bucky wasn’t regretful once he saw the smile on her face. He pulled himself back and began to spin her around and basked in her soft laughs. After pulling her back in again, and dancing around each other, he dipped her. She wrapped her right leg around him in response and he hoped she didn’t notice his smirk transform into a blush. 
“Alright Mr. ‘I might be a little rusty’, someone has moves!” 
Bucky helped her up once she removed her leg. 
“I used to be better,” he mumbled.
“None of that,” she softly chided, bringing his chin up, “where did that confidence just go?”
Bucky shook his head. “I’ll keep practicing, then you’ll see,” he simpered.
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Time went on and not a day went by that Bucky didn’t think of you. After weeks of practice, it was finally dress rehearsal. Bucky was surprisingly calm even though they were no longer practicing in a studio, but in the local high school’s theater, in full costume. You held his hand through it—literally, for some parts—and Bucky was grateful for it.
It was Friday night, the final rehearsal before the show the next day, and Bucky was just about to drive off when he realized how cold his hand felt against the steering wheel. He cursed himself and ran back inside, luckily finding his leather gloves sitting on a chair in the wings of the stage. Right as he was about to scamper off, he noticed a figure at the very front of center stage. He recognized her immediately, and without a second thought, he approached from the darkness of the sides and into the light of the stage. She had already changed out of her ballgown and was back in black leggings.
“Hey.” He uttered, slowly taking a seat next to her at the end of the stage. He let his legs dangle over the edge.
“Hey,” she gasped, bringing a hand to her heart. “Sorry, I thought everyone had left.”
“I forgot my gloves.” 
“Seems like you have a habit of forgetting things,” she teased.
“Only when it comes to clothing, apparently.”
“Is AJ not waiting for you?”
“No, he left with a friend. He’s got a sleepover with Marshall tonight.”
“Gotcha.”
A thoughtful quiet settled over them, but Bucky couldn’t ignore the somberness in her eyes, gazing over the expanse of empty velvet seats.
“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“Shoot.”
“Why’d you stop dancing?”
She was quiet for a minute. Bucky started to think she wasn’t going to answer, but eventually, she whispered,
“I didn’t have much of a choice.”
She began mindlessly rubbing her knee.
“I tore my ACL my senior year. It was our annual production of The Nutcracker and I was cast as the Sugar Plum Fairy. There was a rumor that some influential talent scouts were going to be attending. So when my knee started hurting I ignored it. I didn’t tell anyone. I worked my ass off and pushed myself harder when I really should have been resting, but I was stupid.” She gave Bucky a short glance. “Opening night came, and so did my solo. Everything was going fine until I heard a pop. Next thing I know my leg is on fucking fire and I’m hitting the ground.
“I embarrassed myself and our entire company. My knee took longer to heal than it should have because of more poor choices I made. What should have been nine months of healing turned into years. By the time it was safe enough to start dancing again, it was too late. I was too far behind my peers. Even still I sometimes have issues with it.”
Bucky simply nodded, taking in her words.
“I tell myself I’m over it because it was so long ago. But deep down I know I’m not. I’ve asked my parents to take down all of my stupid awards, at least store them away somewhere, because it’s just some sick reminder of what I lost. Actually, the whole reason I started volunteering in the first place is because my mom told me I should. Said it could be good for me. She never said so, but I really think she was hoping that by being surrounded by ballet again, I would feel motivated to begin training again. But it’s a pipe dream.”
She took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling.
“All I ever was was a dancer. And a good one. It was the only thing I was good at, besides sewing, but I only learned that after I injured myself. The whole town knew me as the dancer. I guess the problem with having my entire identity wrapped around one thing is that when that thing goes away…well, who are you? Who am I, if not the girl who’s going to be on the stage one day? My entire identity was ripped from me.
“I’ve just been wading through life. Time keeps moving and crashing around me, but I haven’t changed. I still don’t know who I am, besides the girl who could’ve been great. And now I’m just—stuck.”
Her eyes went wide for a second before squeezing them shut as if she had forgotten she wasn’t alone.
“God, I’m so sorry, you didn’t need to know all of that—”
“No, I—” Bucky stopped her and hesitated to rest his hand on hers. “I can empathize. I hate that you had to go through that. That you’re still going through it. I can understand not knowing who you are anymore.
“A long time ago, I used to be someone else. I used to be charming, independent… happy. But after I was drafted my identity was no longer my own. I was a fighter. I belonged to the army. And then I belonged to Hydra. And even after, I belonged to the Avengers, the world, whoever needed me to fight, I was their soldier. But I’m tired.” At those words, Bucky slumped. “I don’t want to fight anymore. But I have no fucking clue who I am if not a soldier. I’ve been trying to figure that out.”
“I can’t tell you who you are,” she whispered after a moment, “but I can tell you that whoever you are, I like you.” 
Bucky blushed.
“I like you too. It’s kind of embarrassing actually,”
“What is?”
“I didn’t really want to volunteer for this. Sam forced me. And while I love being here for AJ, I’d much rather hang out with him outside the theater where I’m not expected to be looked at on stage. But then I met this pretty costume designer…and suddenly it wasn’t so bad.”
“Pretty?” She asked, tilting her head.
“Beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous.” He specified.
“What a coincidence. I also met the most handsome and charming man recently.”
“Charming?”
“He doesn’t realize how charming he is. I guess that’s part of his charm.”
“He sounds great.” He turned to face her more directly. “Just to be clear, you are talking about me, yes?”
“Yes, you oaf.” She laughed.
Bucky pursed his lips.
“Would you be willing to let this oaf take you out on a date sometime?”
“More than willing.”
“That’s a relief,” he sighed, falling back onto the stage. “I figured it was 50/50.”
She gave him a silly grin and shook her head in amusement.
“You underestimate yourself, Bucky Barnes.”
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The final performance was perfect. Well, as perfect as it could be with a production of the Nutcracker with dancers ages ranging from 6 to 106. Most importantly, AJ had fun and did a fantastic job. After the show and final bows, Sarah, Sam, and Cass came rushing onto the stage to congratulate AJ (and Bucky of course. Sam made sure to tell him that he was very proud of how brave he was, and Bucky rolled his eyes. He secretly appreciated it, though.) Cass handed one bouquet to his little brother and the other to his uncle, who funny enough lit up in a similar way as his nephew at the gift. But Y/N lit up the most when Sarah handed a third bouquet to her.
“For keeping Bucky in line, and giving a beautiful performance,” Sarah clarified.
“You’re so sweet,” she beamed, pulling Sarah in for a quick hug. “I have the perfect vase for this.”
“Can we go get ice cream now?” AJ jumped. 
“Let’s get you out of your costume first,” Sam said and gave a quick wink to Bucky before herding his sister and Nephews backstage. “We’ll see you by the car Buck.”
Bucky nodded and turned his full attention to Y/N. He felt weirdly high after the performance. “Wanna join us for ice cream?” He asked, placing his hands on her waist.
“Gladly.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.
I like dancing with you.
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A/N: If you've made it this far, tysm for reading!!! I really hope this doesn't suck complete ass, idk what happened 😰 Im going to go hide in a hole now and question everything
If you'd like to read more, here's my Masterlist
Happy holidays!
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lullyannie · 3 months
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Hey, you
I need your favorite sambucky fanfic. The one you can read a thousand times, the one that took a special place in your heart. Written by you or not, finished or not.
Gimme something so I can feel alive again. Please??
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