queenofspades20

[queenofspades20]

Horror movies make the best lullabies~ 🛌💤

LINKTREE

[queenofspades20]

Perfect Present

Okay crack drabble time. Christmas fuckery. Took inspiration from something and flipped it on its head because why not. That’s a warning in itself. This is short and stupid. Like me :) 

“WE’RE DOING SECRET SANTA” Tony announced, already a little drunk, swaying slightly as he passed around a bowl while everyone sat in the living room “Also this time I added some extra people in there since we already did it so many times before” 

“Fantastic” Nat snorted, seeing Tony’s name scribbled on her piece of paper. “I want to switch” 

“No take backs" Tony rolled his eyes, while Bucky rummaged through the bowl, pulling one of the tiny crumples of paper. He hated secret Santa, mostly because he didn’t know what to get anyone and he hated shopping. Actually, he didn’t understand shopping. Especially during Christmas. 

Why did people like crock pots so much.

What was the deal with kitchen aid mixers.

Who is this elf, why was he always on a shelf, what was his problem, why did he always stare at him (the elf lasted two days before it magically disappeared)

But as soon as he unfolded the paper and saw the name his eyes lit up. He knew exactly what to get, there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind. This was the perfect gift. He wouldn’t even have to go shopping.

****

“Who’d you get Buck” You watched him curiously while he shuffled through wrapping paper, for some reason he actually looked excited this year. 

“It’s a secret” He smiled to himself, pleased with his choice. He’d already packed the box, it just had to be wrapped and decorated. He wasn’t big on wrapping presents; you had offered to help which he immediately accepted. not at all because he had a crush on you, no sir

“This box weighs a ton, what the hell is in here?!” You grunted, trying to lift the box to get the paper around it. Bucky snorted, helping you while you looked at him with the utmost confusion. 

“The perfect present” 

****

“Rocket, there’s a package for you” Nebula eyed the colorful box curiously, a giant ribbon on top of it, dropping it at his feet. He tore the giant bright red ribbon open, ripping the paper off, tears immediately welling in his eyes, looking at the prettiest most prized possession he’d ever have. He picked it up with two furry little hands, it was magnificent.  

“He remembered” 

****

“You sent him your arm?!” 

“It was just one of the prototypes, doesn’t do much damage” Bucky shrugged, highly pleased with himself while you stared at him in disbelief. You were both cuddled up on the couch along with the rest of the team while everyone opened gifts and munched on cookies. 

“Bucky there’s no such thing as less damage when there’s a talking raccoon involved! Do you know where he smuggled Thor’s new eye? I’m pretty sure he hid it right up his a-” 

“Ahem” Tony stood from behind you both, a thick bundle of mistletoe tied to a stick hanging above you both. Your face flushed, butterflies erupting in your belly. 

“Shuri made like 10 of them, you can have one too doll” Bucky smirked, his eyes flicking up to the mistletoe that hung above you both. 

“I’ll take one” Sam yelled, only to be smothered by Steve, intently watching you and his best friend, mere centimeters from kissing, just a little closer….

“I want this first” You whispered, leaning into him while he cupped your face, pressing his lips to yours making your insides melt. He smiled against your lips, his tongue gently tracing your lips, deepening the kiss. He blinked when Tony bonked him on the head with the mistletoe stick, snorting when you both pulled away. 

“Okay, if you want to make baby super soldiers take it upstairs” 

Tags:

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[queenofspades20]

Some Other Guy

BuckyBarnes x reader

In which Bucky's curiosity leads to a heartbreaking miscommunication.

a/n: this was requested by a lovely anon who I have left discarded in my asks for wayyyy too long and I AM SO SORRY! Anyway, here it is. I was actually able to use a draft of mine, and it worked out. I hope you like it 💕

word count: 2.6k

warnings: angst, sad boi Bucky, swearing, idiots in love, fluff

It was a disaster. Your life was a fucking disaster. There was no way in hell that anything could make it any worse at this point. And it all happened thanks to your own stupidity. You knew you had missed something - something important that was. But it didn't occur to you until someone had pointed out just how important that something was. But, really, how could you have forgotten? After all, Bucky was the only reason you had gotten yourself into all the trouble with planning an outstanding Christmas party. Because you loved Christmas and you felt like Bucky needed a little party to help him loosen up.

You had been so excited, too. All exhausted and drained from decorating the main floor but holding onto the surprised look on his face you would be seeing once it was all finished. And when you sat there, ready for him to appear in the door in an ugly sweater you were sure would make your heart melt all over, that’s when Wanda said it:

“Did you tell him when the party’s gonna start?”

And all the excitement drained itself from your face. You had not, in fact, told him anything about the party at all. You had been so occupied with planning the whole thing that you had forgotten the most important part. And now you felt like the biggest loser on the planet.

Idiotidiotidiot.

How could you have been so stupid? Bucky was literally the only reason you had done this for, not that you would tell Wanda or any of the others of course. You chose to just hunch in your chair and mumble a grudge ‘duh.’ As your arms crossed before your chest.

Heat rose up your body, though. And when the witch turned to visit Nat at the bar, you quickly looked around for anyone else’s eyes on you before getting up and heading for the elevator.

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky knew he should not have eavesdropped. But he couldn’t help it. It was ingrained in him and seemed to be a habit he could not drop for the life of him. The super hearing he had been burdened with didn’t help him on that account either. It was just too intriguing to get details nobody knew he knew about. And it also gave him security to know, that he was always a few steps ahead of whoever he encountered. 

But it seemed as though this time it came to bite him in the ass. 

Your voice down the corridor was just too tempting, though. He had told himself that it was a bad idea then. That he knew it was not okay to listen in especially when you talked to Wanda. He also knew he should have probably stopped daydreaming about you the second he saw you in the compound a year ago, but his body didn’t listen back then either. So why did he think it would this time? 

And well - here he was - somehow trying to keep himself from drowning in self-pity over the stupid excitement his head had built up over the past week. And what was that weird burning in his eyes?

He swished the single tear from his face with rough movements before leaning back on the headboard. Bucky had tried to read a little to distract himself, but his thoughts just kept wandering back to you and your voice down the hallway. And he’d remember the way you embarrassedly left the room when you couldn’t hide your plan anymore. 

To be fair, Bucky had not heard the whole conversation between you and Wanda. All that he had caught on his way to his room was half a conversation:

“I have this whole thing planned, Wanda. But I’m so nervous, what if he’s not gonna like it?”

"Why wouldn’t he like it?”

“I mean... He’s not much of a party animal.”

Not much of a party animal - Bucky had thought - that was him! Okay... maybe he had wished for it to be him...

“Ugh, how is it possible to like somebody so much? I feel like exploding when I talk to him...”

“That is so sweet! But really, I don’t get why you are so nervous. A blind person can see how much he adores you. You could probably burn his house down and he would still say yes to a date. “

"Well, I'm not planning to burn his house down, I’m planning to ask him like a normal person - at the Christmas party.”

Bucky had just smiled as warmth had bubbled up in his stomach. You were going to ask him out at the party - and even though the 40s man within him struggled to comprehend that he would not be the one to ask you first, he had decided to let you have your moment. 

That was a week ago. And about three days ago he had talked to Peter, who had excitedly asked Bucky if he had gotten an invitation to your Christmas party. When he had just stared the kid down in confusion the spider boy had assured him that you had probably just not gotten around to handing it to him yet, but Bucky had felt an uneasy feeling cooking in his stomach ever since. 

Looking back at it now, it was really stupid how excited he had been about the whole thing. He had just assumed that you were talking about him when you could have very well meant someone entirely different. Because you had. There were many people who didn't like parties. Hell, even Steve wasn’t too fond of them, but it still hurt to realize he was not even invited to the party altogether.

Because, for you, he would have even dressed up in a stupid sweater. He would have done it just to see that beautiful smile of yours. It all seemed pretty embarrassing now, didn't it? 

He was so sure you had gotten his hints. The subtle stares over the room, the attempt to always send you a smile when he caught your eyes roaming. He even laughed at every one of your jokes when no one else did. But apparently, he had never had a chance in the first place. Because you had planned a party for someone you were planning to ask out today. And it was not him. And even though that fact pulled on his heart and made his body hurt in various weird places, he couldn’t bring himself to ask you about it. 

He wanted you to be happy. And if that would be with some other guy that didn’t like parties (just like him) - yes he was still hung up on that - then so be it. At least he would be able to see you smile.

His body betrayed his brain once again, though. Because even though Bucky was pretty sure that he was okay with the opinion he had formed on the situation, his eyes wouldn’t stop burning and his chest felt a little tighter than before. 

❁ ❁ ❁

How were you going to approach this? There is really no non-awkward way to do it. That had been clear ever since reality had dawned on you. But now that you were standing in front of his door, knuckles held high to finally knock, you still found yourself hoping for something to keep it from happening. Maybe there was a way to avoid humiliation after all. Though that would be not doing it at all - and thus forever living with the regret of having left Bucky in the dark. Not only in the dark but alone in his cold and lonely room while the rest of the city was having a party downstairs. 

Yea, that was not gonna happen. Especially, because you had pulled this party just for him.

Oh, god. He was probably super disappointed, too. Because there was no way he had not figured out by now that he had been the only one without an invite. You asked yourself again how this could have happened. It must have gotten lost or something. Or maybe it was because of the nerves that ran through your body every time you were near Bucky. But still, forgetting about something so trivial seemed unusual for you. 

You hand lifted guilt-ridden for the second time, but this time, you were determined to go through with it. There was not much to do about the situation and ignoring it was definitely not an option. Bucky had those special kinds of puppy eyes and you just knew he would give them to you over the next week. He was not really one to hold a grudge, no. and he would definitely not want to make anybody feel guilty, but he would be sad and the thought of it was unbearable to you. 

Another deep breath. Here goes nothing.

❁ ❁ ❁

Knock.Knock.Knock. 

Bucky perked up. The book in his hand long discard by his brain, and his eyes wandered to the door where he detected a rapid heartbeat. Who could this be?  Everyone he knew was at the party. The one he wasn’t invited to...

Wow, that thing really bothered him. Normally he wouldn’t be so salty. But the fact that another guy would get your attention at said party and Bucky wasn’t even invited to see it, let alone intervene - not that he would actually do that - made the whole situation a little different, he concluded.

“Yeah?”

“It’s me... Y/N.” For some reason, anger flared up in him.

“Don’t you have a party to host?” He snapped. Bucky didn’t want to be sassy but it had just slipped.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” There was a short silence before your voice rang through the door again. “Look, can I- Can I please come in?”

Bucky’s eyes wandered over his room in a haste. There was not much stuff that could have been scattered anywhere, but he made sure nonetheless. Because there was still a part of him that wanted to impress you. And a messy room was not the way to go. 

“Go ahead,” he announced as he sat upright on the neatly made bed. You stepped into the room with your eyes on the ground. Your hands wringing in front of the green and red sweater with a reindeer on it. And even though he tried to stay mad, he couldn't help but notice how adorable it looked on you. He wanted to hug you and feel the soft material under his hand, but he had to stay focused.

“I did something really really stupid.” Well, that was one way to start an apology. But Bucky kept quiet. He was intrigued to hear what you had to say since he could apparently not rely on his own thinking skills anymore, this seemed like the only way to get the answers he needed.

“And I’m sorry because it was supposed to be a surprise and now I’ve ruined it.” Oh no. This was taking a wrong turn…

“I'm not helping you ask that guy out, Y/N.”

“What?” Your eyes went wide at his words. Maybe he had spoken unclearly? Either way, he didn't like this conversation at all. It was one thing to be heartbroken, but he wouldn’t be able to help you. Even though he had sworn that he wanted to see you happy, the thought of pushing you into another guy’s arms made his heart ache even more than it already did.

“That guy you wanted to ask out at your party... you could have at least invited me, you know...” There was a crushing silence in which Bucky didn’t dare to look up at your saddened face. He would cave, he just knew it.

“You spied on me?” You asked with a broken voice and Bucky’s eyes locked with yours. Betrayal, confusion, hurt... he could see all of those things in them, which was why he frantically got up and stepped towards you with wide gestures.

“No! I... it was an accident. I swear!” His heart was pounding so fast, it would probably be jumping out of his chest the next moment. He had to will himself not to press on it to stop it.

“Oh, Bucky!” 

“I'm so sorry, Y/N!” The despair crept up his throat in hot shivers. You didn’t need to know how creepy he had been. You didn’t need to be angry at him - he didn’t want that.

“I'm not mad. I’m sorry, Bucky this is all a huge misunderstanding.” You smiled relieved while Bucky was still losing his mind.

“How?”

“I- You-” You told him so fast that the words all mixed together in your mouth. Bucky didn’t understand a word, but it seemed clear that it wasn’t something that was easy to say. Something like a rejection. He didn’t want to hear you actually say it. It would be better if he never heard you finalize his suspicions.

“It's okay you don’t have to say it. I got the message. Can you please leave?” He turned around with his head hung low. Bucky knew that today was not going to be great, but the devastation that settled in his heart right now was far worse than anything he had imagined.

Your hand pulled on his arms gently, and for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. “Bucky would you listen to me please.”

“What? So you can tell me all about your crush?” He swiftly turned around. “I don’t want to hear it, Y/N. I’m perfectly fine-“

“For god’s sake, Bucky!” Your hands flew through the air and before Bucky could register anything, soft, warm lips pressed to his and the tension melted to a puddle on the floor. You were kissing him. You were kissing him! Holy shit! His eyes closed with a satisfied sigh against your skin an his hand wandered to your waist, holding you close and him steady. All the anger and hurt had left his body by the time you pulled away, leaving fluster and confusion behind.

“I... I don't understand.”

He watched as you shook your head, your hand still holding him by his arms, but your thumbs stroked soft circles over his shirt. “You are the guy I was going to ask out. But I got so caught up in planning everything that I forgot the most important part: inviting you. And I’m so sorry that it ended up being like this because I had this really great pickup line planned and then I wanted to dance with you and make everyone look at us being all happy and cute.”

A deep blush covered his cheek crimson as the embarrassment set in. Man, Bucky had not felt this many emotions in a while, let alone all within an hour. But he was glad that it happened, now that he actually had clarity and an outcome he could very much deal with.

As soon as he had himself collected again, a shy smile made its way to his face. There was something funny and simultaneously sweet about the situation, even if it all could have been avoided had he not been an inconsiderate idiot. 

“You can still tell me the pick-up line. And then I’ll be happy to ask you for a dance.” Bucky smirked confidently all of a sudden. He didn’t know where it came from, but he wanted to hold onto it as long as possible.

“That's a lot of pressure now, Buck.”

“Then let's just skip to the good part...” His hand took yours and laid them on his shoulders gently. When his feet swayed sideways to faint music traveling up to his room, he twirled you with an honest smile. Your eyes gleamed up at him brightly and when you placed a chaste kiss on his jaw, he pulled you even closer. 

If Bucky had learned anything from today, it was that his mind sometimes still got the better of him. Hopefully, with you by his side, that would change in the future.

Wanna be added to the Taglist?

@circe143 @4buckyb

[queenofspades20]

[queenofspades20]

I might actually buy this issue

SEXIEST MAN ALIVE?! DAMN RIGHT HE IS

[queenofspades20]

I tell my friends I love them all the time. They will never question that they're important to me.

Platonic love is important too, be nice to each other, compliment people, tell people that you love them. Kindness shouldn’t be mistaken for flirting and people deserve to be appreciated.

[queenofspades20]

Did I just binge this? Yes

Did I thoroughly enjoy it? Also yes

MESS IS MINE [MASTERLIST]

BOXER!BUCKY SERIES [COMPLETED]

series summary: as a date night surprise, your boyfriend takes you to a boxing match. little does he know, one of the competitors is responsible for breaking your heart five years ago and an accidental encounter is about to send your whole world spinning.

series pairings: boxer!bucky barnes x female reader, oc!male x female reader.

series warnings: swearing, fighting, angst, fluff, mentions of: sex (but no smut), blood, alcohol, and injuries.

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

PART 6

PART 7

PART 8

PART 9

PART 10

PART 11

PART 12

[queenofspades20]

Me whenever someone calls out to me

me when your siblings snitch on you

me when you touch something you should

me when you actually touched it but you lie

me when you steal someone’s food

[queenofspades20]

Dodger getting his revenge on Chris for the interview 😂

[queenofspades20]

[queenofspades20]

best kept

[bucky barnes x baker!reader]

This is for Birdie's Birthday Bash Writing Challenge!! Happy happy birthday, @buckysbirdie ❤️❤️❤️. This was such a fun way to pull myself back into the creative roll! You're a gem and you deserve to have a beautiful birthday fest.

For my prompts, I chose:🍦 Waffle Cone: Bucky Barnes |🧁 Birthday Cake: Baker | 🍭 “You deserve pretty things.” | 🍑 Secretly dating | 🍓 Mutual pining

warnings: idiots in love, miscommunication, fluff, mention of sex. no body descriptions, no use of y/n.

--

She didn’t mean it the way it came out–you deserve pretty things–like a plea. She intended for the sentiment to land like an observation, based on their few-and-far-between conversations across the register, like the brew of the day is Breakfast Blend or it’s supposed to rain around three o’clock.

But damn him… he flushed. He didn’t smile, quite, but his eyes flicked away and he cleared the embarrassment from his throat, handing over a bill too large for the small black coffee and the intricately frosted cupcake which had nearly given up the whole gambit to his companions, who hung at his elbow with an urgency which could only come from a post-mission adrenaline rush. 

He was expressly forbidden from dating anyone inside the compound. He had made that abundantly clear as he fished the buttons of her baking uniform through the holes in the storage closet the day that pull between them became too much to bear. He had still kissed her like he had all the time in the world, and every moment they squirreled away thereafter was precious, but the longer they had to hide in the shadows… the harder it became to keep her tongue from whetting his plush lips where anyone could see. Especially when he picked out a cupcake he knew she had agonized over that morning, thanks to the hastily sent photo he received from the kitchen in the wee hours.

The way lavender buttercream would taste in a forbidden kiss… she ached for it. 

He did deserve pretty things. He deserved much more than that, too. But he wouldn’t let her say it. She tried, with her legs tangled in his, to tell him sincerely what he meant to her, how lucky she felt that he would even look her way–but he had shut her down with suffocating kisses and stole all coherent thought. He went another day without knowing she loved him, without her trying to make him listen to her say it.

Maybe that’s why the comment burst out. When she couldn’t say I love you, what could she say? You deserve pretty things, like the cupcake I created because all this love has no place to go, because chamomile is your favorite tea, because it’s one part of you that belongs only to me.

Bucky motioned for her to keep the generous change from his bill, and hastened to the far end of the caf to admire her work from a safe distance. She watched him walk away for only a split second, before turning her attention back to the red-headed woman with a cold brew addiction.

Just wait, his text said. The message had pinged from her back pocket while she ascertained whether or not Captain America wanted a savory scone, so she didn’t see it until he and his cohort departed from the caf. 

Clutching her phone over the stove long after the other staff headed home, she stared at the two little words from ‘Jamie.’ No punctuation to hang a hope on, ever. He wasn’t one for soft sentiments. Bucky Barnes touched her with urgency, but he didn’t speak her name with the reverence of a lover. He barely spoke at all, except to coax pleasure from her. She was starting to feel less like a choice, and more akin to a tool he used to blow off steam. It clawed at her heart, making her skin crawl with longing for just one fraction of the effort she was devoting… to a man who had never hidden that he wasn’t supposed to be fucking her. 

She couldn’t take much more of such an empty arrangement. How could someone so enmeshed with her bones leave her so devoid of affection, even in the slightest? How could she love someone who stumbled away from a tryst like he’d been stung?

He never showed up before the night shift cleaners did their rounds, but he always showed. 

Wait, she did. She jumped when cold vibranium fingers wrapped around her elbow, swiping furiously at her reddened eyes. 

“Christ,” she breathed. “You’re a fucking phantom.” She hazarded a glance at him, but his expression was hardened and unreadable. He was frozen at the sight of her persistent tears. She rolled her eyes and eased her arm out of his grip, putting the island between them. Despite the way every hair on her body stood on end in his presence, it was no use hiding the way his silence inspired more tears. She let them streak down her cheeks. When still he said nothing, anger stirred behind her ribs.

“How was your cupcake?” she whispered.

“Um. Good.” Bucky leaned against the counter and folded his arms. The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepened. “Chamomile?”

She nodded. “Your favorite. I, um. I sifted loose leaf tea in with the flour, I wasn’t sure how it would go.”

“It was good.” 

“Good.” She gripped the butcher block countertop so hard, her fingers ached. 

Bucky let an agonizing minute pass. “You’re crying,” he muttered. “Why?”

She snorted. “Tim’s wearing his big headphones while he does the floors tonight, if you want to risk it out here–if you can stand to fuck a woman while she’s sad.”

He was intelligent, she knew it. It hadn’t taken long to see how his mind whirred to strategize around every possible obstacle to the opportunity to take her in a dark corner, and she couldn’t dismiss the way his compatriots spoke about his work on assignment, even if she only overheard snippets of their conversations in the caf. It came as no surprise, then, when he scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. 

“You wanna be alone. I’ll get out of your hair,” he said tersely.

“No–god.” She laughed, but it stabbed. “I want you. Here. I thought I had made that abundantly clear by sticking my hand down your pants at every opportunity.”

He blinked. “You’re angry.”

“Yeah. Yes, I am. I’m–I don’t know how to say this,” she struggled. “We’re better at the not-talking part of this arrangement. But if I don’t get it out, I’m going to pop!”

Bucky, to his credit, made no move to leave, though every muscle in his body seemed to tense up with the need to flee. Instead, he braced his hands against the counter behind him and nodded for her to say whatever was on her mind. It was then that she noticed that his hair was damp; he never came to her smelling of motor oil, or blood, or sweat, or any hint of whatever duty had demanded of him during the day. It made her want to sob. He came to her clean.

She studied the way his jaw flexed anxiously, and it gave her enough comfort–knowing he was uncomfortable–to make some sort of explanation come out. 

“I’m selfish,” she started. “I thought that I could just be content sneaking around, because I’ve been clinging to every bit of affection I can get from you. It was fine for a while. More than fine, Jamie–god, I’m addicted,” she said sheepishly. “But it’s not fun anymore, it’s like I need a fix of you, or I can’t function. I hate that I can’t kiss you where people can see. I hate that you don’t say anything to make me think you want me half as much as I want you. I invented a fucking cupcake based on your kiss after a cup of tea. I–fuck.” She looked up at the ceiling to hold back a new wave of emotion.

“You never promised me anything, so I have no right demanding more from you,” she said. “So. I don’t think I can continue with my part of this arrangement, given that–well, considering that you can’t even show interest in a person without creating a coup with Human Resources–”

“Hang on,” he said softly. “What do you mean a coup?”

“You’ll get in trouble. Especially for sleeping with the cupcake woman–”

“I’m not following,” he said. Then, it dawned on him. “Doll…” Bucky chuckled. From the depths of his chest, a warm and wooly sound that brought heat to her cheeks. He smiled even as he swiped a thumb across his bottom lip.

“I see what this is,” Bucky said. His blue eyes flicked up to meet her gaze and her stomach flipped. Gone was the frown from his expression, and instead, a strange and unfamiliar lightness took its place. “You should’ve told me.”

“What?” she breathed.

Bucky pushed off the counter and walked around the island slowly, until he caged her back against the wood. The scent of his soap–sandalwood and cedar–filled her nostrils. He tipped her chin up. 

“You seem to be under the impression that I come here to get my rocks off, and not because I have a sweet tooth. And I’m kickin’ myself for not seeing it sooner. God help me, doll: when I’m around you, I lose all rational thought.”

She wound her fingers into the front of his sweatshirt, a soft and well-worn thing with a faded SHIELD logo over the left pec. “Pardon my French, but those are the most words in a row I’ve heard out of your fucking mouth, maybe ever.”

“‘M a shy guy,” he said. 

“I have tried to talk to you about this for months–”

Bucky winced. “Shit.”

“Yeah! You shut me up every time! Hey–stop staring at my mouth.”

He raised an eyebrow as if to say well, go ahead. For good measure, he sat on the stool at the lip of the counter, and bracketed her between his knees. She sighed.

“I don’t know how long this can continue if it can never be more than a secret,” she admitted.

Bucky cleared his throat.“...Are you under the impression that SHIELD has a stake in my personal relationships?” 

She blinked. “You said it did.”

“When?”

“Um. The first time. In the pantry.” 

He frowned again and looked at the pantry door like it might project the exact conversation they had, amidst a feverish tryst. “I don’t think I did,” he said.

“‘They’ll grill me and everyone in the compound will know–’ You were pretty clear that nobody could know about us. You kept saying it. ‘They can’t know. They can’t know.’”

“I’m not sure I was thinking about anything but putting my head between your legs,” he said frankly, which made her shiver. “Nick Fury doesn’t care about interpersonal relationships as long as they don’t interfere with our work. The guys, however, already give me shit for how often I miss my mouth with coffee because I’m watching the cupcake woman and her damned smile. I was probably talking about them. But I don’t remember, and I’m sorry you’ve been losing sleep over it.”

“I haven’t been losing sleep,” she said bashfully, though her lip slipping into her mouth revealed what a lie that was. 

“Don’t you see how messed up I am over you?” The question came out of his mouth like a blessing. She stared at him in astonishment, which made the tips of his ears turn pink. “I may be bad at sayin’ it, doll, but I’m acting up like a lovesick man.” Bucky tucked his fingers into the back pockets of her jeans to pull her closer. “You’ve been hurting. Haven’t you?” When she nodded, his face fell. He huffed. “That won’t do.”

“Tell me,” she asked. “Please, Jamie.”

“You really been thinkin’ about something I said in the heat of the moment… shit, a year ago?”

“Words are precious, where you’re concerned.”

Bucky looked up at her like the sentiment struck a raw nerve. He shook his head. “I’ll be better.”

“You’ve already tripled your usual output,” she teased, letting her hands slide to his jaw. “It’s no wonder you’re good at keeping secrets.”

“What would people say if they knew?”

“Stop. You’re trying to save me from compound gossip?”

He studied her well-loved shoes and the flour which adorned the toes like a deliberate style choice. “Am I a coward?”

“Yeah,” she said, but she brushed his cheek. “For the sake of clarity… SHIELD doesn’t care, but your friends will tease you, and people might gossip, so that’s why you’ve never actually taken me to your room, and why we’ve been sneaking around for the better part of a year?”

Bucky cringed. “In my defense, I thought you got off on it.”

“I did–I do. But I spend about thirteen hours a day on my feet in this damn kitchen. It would be nice to have sex horizontal for once, and not bent over the sink I wash dishes in! Maybe even laying down on a mattress, as crazy as that sounds.” 

“You wild woman, you.” He laced his fingers behind her knees. “I’m sorry. All this because I’m afraid of people thinkin’--it doesn’t matter, right?”

“Oh, you’re just now realizing that?” She swatted him on the shoulder. “We should’ve had this conversation eleven months ago!”

He didn’t say anything for a while, but he leaned into her fingers where they dug at the knot in his shoulder while he pondered where they had gone wrong. He gripped her wrist so he could entwine their fingers and study the raised veins on the back of her hand with a curious thumb. 

“I always buy whatever pastry you made special for the day,” Bucky said, as if it was a revelation he was making at that exact moment. “I tip you like Rockafeller. I can’t stand the thought of stinking in your presence, so some days I shower twice. I scan the personnel report every morning to make sure you’re on the premises. I check my phone seven hundred times an hour on the off chance you text me. I dream about you. I wake up smelling your perfume. I’m–I’m your damned satellite, woman.”

“Then why are you so worried about people knowing?” she asked it, but she gleaned the answer the moment it left her lips and she pressed her fingers to his to stop him from saying it. His lips pursed behind her hand. She shook her head. “No. You’ll break my heart.”

Bucky waited until she removed her hand before attempting to say a thing. “You don’t know what I’ve done, doll–”

“I’m sorry–you think I didn’t google you within an inch of your life, old man?”

He smiled, despite himself. “My mistake.”

“Please. I would be so proud if people knew”

“Of me?” he asked, incredulous. “Why?”

She leaned in and took the softest drag from his lips, eliciting something like a gasp of amazement from the man. “Doesn’t make a lick of sense, does it?” she murmured against his mouth.

Bucky growled. “If I could have you, I would shout it from the rooftops.”

“You like me.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” He stood, looming over her hungrily. “Could I, doll?”

She would have descended into tears again if her heart wasn’t bursting with happiness. “I would love that, Jamie.”

His eyes sparkle. “People will talk.”

“Good.”

“I’ll… I’ll kiss you over the counter!” He gestured to the very counter which separated them daily. “Other people will see me do it.”

She snickered. “I hope they do.”

“Sam will tell you about every time I’ve made a fool of myself watchin’ you–”

“I can’t wait.”

“You’re not ever gonna question me again, because I’m gonna just come right out and say things. All the time.” For the first time in her memory, Bucky fully smiled. Beamed, even. His eyes were lively with excitement and he reached for her hand. He laced their fingers once more. 

“I’m going to walk outta here right now, holding your hand.” He backed slowly towards the door of the kitchen, tugging her with him. “Because I want to.”

“Okay,” she laughed. He was giddy, almost, at the prospect of getting to tell anyone who would listen that he was with her. Being seen together was a dream he didn’t know was within reach. It made her heart clench. 

“Wait–” She held up a finger and released him so she could dash back into the pantry. When she emerged from the kitchen with the little pastry box in hand, Bucky raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Saved a cupcake for my personal pity party,” she said. “I blew through three dozen of these before noon.”

“Hmm… my cupcake is a best-seller, huh?” Bucky tucked her fingers in the crook of his elbow so he could draw her closer.

“Um. Every pastry I make is yours.” When he couldn’t speak in shock, she nodded. “You’re sort of my muse.”

“You’re jokin’.”

“God, it’s embarrassing–”

“No, no, no! It’s the sweetest thing I ever heard, doll, I promise you.” Bucky stopped in the vestibule where the hallway forked west to the parking garage (where her car was parked), and east to the residential wing of the compound. 

“Well.” She shrugged. “I take how you’re making me feel, and I say it in flour and sugar. Everything I couldn’t tell you got baked into pastry. They all have names, too, but I’m not quite ready to mortify myself by admitting some of them.”

He cupped her cheek. “What’d you call it today?”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t. Scout’s honor.”

“‘Jamie’s Best Kept Tea-cake.’” She braced herself for him to cringe, but he didn't.

Bucky looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. “I am an idiot. Never let me forget it.” He turned on his heel and hastened down the east hall. She had to practically skip to keep up. 

“Do you hate it?” she panted.

“What–no!” He punched the up arrow to summon the elevator. “I love it.”

“I love you.” The sentiment flew from her tongue like it had been waiting for that very moment to spread its wings.

The elevator dinged to punctuate her admission, effectively squashing an otherwise perfect moment… made awkward by Sam Wilson on his way back from the gym, standing in the elevator and grinning. Bucky glanced between Sam and the woman who just admitted to loving him, and pulled her into the car.

“Sam,” Bucky acknowledged. “You remember–”

“The way you poured dark roast in your lap when she laughed? Sure do. Hi. How are you?”

“She loves me,” Bucky said. She nudged his ribcage. “What? You do. I’m in love with her, also.”

“I’ve gleaned that prior to now,” Sam said smugly.

Her cheeks were hot, but she leaned into Bucky’s side in disbelief. “Hi Sam. I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. While we’re all sharing our feelings, he’s one of the best people I know, so. As far as I’m concerned, this is a fantastic development. Which I’m suspecting isn’t a new one.” Sam smirked as Bucky scratched his head guiltily. 

“Wow. Thanks, man.”

“Whatcha got there?” Sam pointed at the little box in her hand.

“That’s ‘Jamie’s Best Kept Tea-cake,’” Bucky explained proudly. 

She squeezed his elbow. “It’s chamomile with lavender buttercream.”

“Oh shit, the magic cupcake! He force-fed us all a bite at lunch. Five stars.”

“Thanks.” She shared a smile with Sam. The elevator arrived on Bucky’s desired floor. Sam said little else, but offered a sly salute to the retreating form of his giddy best friend and the woman he couldn’t stop talking about.

At Bucky’s door, he paused. “I didn’t–is this okay? Do you want to come in? You can use my on-suite shower. Water pressure is amazing. I have a very comfortable bed–”

She pressed up on her toes and kissed him quiet. “You love me,” she murmured, “so I’d like to go in.”

“I’m making a fool of myself right now, aren’t I,” he breathed.

“Nah. You’re just… chatty.”

“I don’t think I can stop.”

“It’s okay. 'S pretty cute.”

He smiled dreamily. “Cute is good. I can work with that.” He let them into the room, but the moment the door shut behind her, he tensed up again. “Um. This is it. I don’t have much.”

“Jamie,” she soothed. “I’m so happy to be here, but I’m exhausted. I’ll take you up on that shower, and we can talk more in the morning. Yeah?”

“Oh–of course, doll, there’s towels…” He babbled on, but she temporarily ignored him in favor of unwrapping the little box on his desk. She grabbed him mid-sentence by the front of the sweatshirt. Something had to be done to dissipate his adrenaline, which was hammering away full-throttle to force every little thought which crossed his brain to traverse his tongue, too.

“C’mere.” She held up the small cupcake and offered him the first bite. His lips grazed her thumb and forefinger, but her own chased them to capture the sugar of a kiss. He groaned into the flowery sweetness. She giggled when he dipped the tip of his finger into the frosting, only to drag it over her cupid’s bow. Warmth pooled between her thighs as he licked the purple sugar from her skin.

“Shit,” he breathed. “I’m. I–doll.”

She laughed. “That, James Barnes, is what you taste like after a cup of tea.”

“If I wasn’t already… I am, now.” He peered at her through half-lidded eyes, drunk on sugar and arousal.

“What?”

“In love.”

He said nothing else. Every sentiment which she inspired in him paled in comparison to the feeling of her. The alphabet of her body was language enough to describe the utter terror of exposing every chamber of his heart, and still come up short for the measure of awe. And as for her… 

She had kept him locked away in a neighboring vein for so long, that letting the flow of Bucky Barnes through her senses overwhelmed her with the knowledge that yes, she loved him… and yet loved him more as he exposed his vulnerabilities–like his 3-in-1 shower gel, and his pleasant striped pajama pants with frayed cuffs. He would be best kept at her side, of that much she was sure. Not a dirty secret in the pantry, but softly snoring against her shoulder, with no question of whether or not he wanted her, and an abundance of pretty things… many of which came frosted.

--

Thanks for reading! :)

my masterlist - my bucky barnes masterlist

bucky tag list: @peterhollandkait @nahthanks @honeywithemoney @dracris33

[queenofspades20]

The only thing I’m celebrating today is this ass

[queenofspades20]

Can't wait to read more of Beast and Sweetart

Downshift

Pairing: Motocross!Ari Levinson x Female Reader Summary: Ari thinks you're too good for his neighbor and he's, sadly, proven right. Word Count: Over 2.2k Warnings: Pining, hurt/comfort, some angst, fluff and feels, cheating (not by Ari), swearing, motocross!Ari Levinson (he’s a warning, okay? A/N: Meet Beast and Sweetart! Set in the same AU as Starting Gate and Lapper. Should I start making Wednesdays a dedicated motocross day? Beta read by the beautiful @maladaptivexxdaydreaming, but any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by the talented @maysdigitalarts. Shoutout to my lovely for helping with the reader's nickname (I can't tag you. BOO!). Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

Ari Levinson is a beast. One of the largest and toughest riders in his class at 6'5", combined with his dark beard, shaggy hair and rough exterior, he received the nickname in passing and it stuck. If you asked any of his exes, he was a beast on and off the tracks. He didn’t mind. There were worse names out there. 

Most riders weren’t easy to intimidate, but not many wanted to go toe-to-toe with him. Others in town tended to stay out of his way, too, when he wasn’t smiling. Jensen teased that people probably expected him to growl. He could admittedly be an asshole when the occasion called for it, but he was a good guy. 

A beast with a heart.

One of the only people he could remember in a long time who never seemed put off by him was you.

Someone “taking his breath away” seemed like complete bullshit until you showed up. When you looked his way the first time, you flashed him a kind smile and wave. You looked sweet, making him want to devour you to see if you tasted the same. Arousal spread from his gut and you hadn’t touched him.

I could eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner and it wouldn’t be enough.

Your eyes caught his attention next. The sincerity and warmth weren’t anything like the pit lizards who threw themselves at him. He stared and hoped his blue eyes reflected a resemblance of kindness. He didn’t want to scare you off. He wanted to ruin and keep you safe.

It didn’t matter what he did.

You were dating his asshole neighbor, Carter.

It didn’t make sense to fall for someone so quickly, but it hurt each time he saw you go into or leave Carter’s place. Especially when you smiled his way or stopped to chat for a few minutes. Your boyfriend was always quick to pull you away with a cocky smirk or a smart-ass comment, which prompted you to tell him to be nice and mouth “sorry” back in his direction.

Why are you with him?

From what he knew about the guy, he came from money and traveled a lot. Even his dressed down clothes were name brand. He gambled occasionally, but Ari never saw him at the track. Maybe it had something to do with keeping you away from the riders. He never liked the prick, but seeing a sweet girl like you with him put him on his permanent shit list, along with how he treated you. Like you were an object or a doll for him to play with.

There was a difference between being somewhat possessive and treating someone like a possession.

Doing his best not to take his frustration out on his bike, he still couldn’t figure out why you were with him in the first place. You didn’t seem like the materialistic type and you were kind to everyone. Were you settling? He wanted to grumble so many times that you were too good for him, but he would’ve sounded crazy since the two of you only spoke a few times in passing.

It wasn’t like Ari to sit back and watch something good pass by. He knew from racing what happened if you let opportunities slip away. Even if he was selfish in wanting you, was it really his place to ruin your happiness? It wasn't meant for him to interfere.

Looking back, maybe he should have.

The knock on his door pulled him from his slumber, groaning as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. After work and practice, all he wanted to do was get some fucking sleep. 

“Just a minute! Fuck!” he yelled at the second knock, throwing some shorts on before he made his way to the door.

His sweet girl You stood there with tears streaming down your face as the door flew open and he wanted to apologize for snapping when you shrank back. You were in your work clothes and you shivered despite the warm air. 

“I’m sorry. I, um, I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll go.”

“Are you okay?” he asked when you began to turn away, skipping the pleasantries. It was the only thing keeping him from putting his first through the wall. 

Who knew the sight of your tears would bring out the animal in him?

“My boyfriend. Well, no. EX-boyfriend now,” you said quickly, swiping at your face to brush the tears away. “I just caught him in bed with…”

“Fuck,” Ari whispered, not fully hearing the rest of your words, his blood boiling as you cried harder. He knew the guy was a prick, but a cheating prick? How could anyone cheat on you?

I bet Barnes and Rogers would help me hide a body.

“Can I use your phone, please? I dropped it when I left and I can’t go back there.”

Ari nodded and let you inside, having to step back so you didn’t brush against him. He was happy that the place was clean. It likely wasn’t as nice as Carter’s place, but he did well enough and he took pride in it. 

He imagined you there many times, but not like this.

“Thank you. I’ll be out of your hair soon,” you sniffled as he directed you to the couch, wincing slightly. “I’m sorry, but could I also ask for some ice?”

“Stop apologizing, please,” he nearly begged before he went rigid. “Ice? Are you hurt?”

I’ll kill him if he touched you. I’ll fucking kill him.

“I punched him?” it came out as a question, holding up your hand to show him. “Never punched anyone before. I don’t think I did it right.”

Ari fell for you a bit more. “He had it coming,” he said before he could stop himself. “Sit tight. I’ll get my phone and some ice.”

“Thanks, Ari,” you said, rubbing the top of your hand.

His gaze lingered before he left the room to grab what you needed, wishing he could pull you in his arms to tell you it would be okay. Anything to put your smile back on your face. 

The only tears he wished you’d cry were tears of pleasure.

Maybe one day, I can do that. And maybe not while you’re healing from this.

“You know, I could teach you how to punch,” he said after he came back and sat down beside you, gently placing the wrapped ice on top of your hand. He took up a portion of the couch with his size, but you didn’t seem to mind how close he was. At least, he hoped you didn’t.

You inhaled sharply, but managed a small smile. “I bet you could. Doesn’t everyone call you ‘beast’?”

He was happy that you knew his nickname. “They do. What do people call you? Sweetart?”

“Don’t you mean ‘sweetheart’?” you asked as you took the phone with your other hand.

“Nah. You look sweet and you are sweet, but you apparently pack a tart punch. Like the candy.”

Fuck, I sound like Jensen. He rubbed off on me.

You began to laugh after a second, your eyes shining a bit brighter through the pain. “Sweetart. I like that.”

Clearing his throat, he stood up and looked down at you. Most women were smaller than him, no matter their height, but the urge to wrap you in his arms and keep you safe wouldn’t go away. “I’ll let you make your call.”

He made sure to grab some tissues and a glass of water as well as you called your friend, doing his best not to listen when he heard tears in your throat. You asked if you could crash at her place and explained that you weren't in the best headspace to drive over there. He should’ve offered you a ride. It was the least you could do.

You set his phone on the coffee table once you were finished. “My friend should be here shortly. One of the only numbers I have memorized.”

He sat back down beside you as he handed you a tissue, his knee touching yours. “I know it doesn’t help, but I’m sorry.”

You dabbed at your eyes, sniffling. “Probably better that I caught him now and not later. I just feel stupid, you know?” 

“You’re not stupid, he is. He’s a fucking prick, too.”

“He never liked you,” you said, smiling a little. 

“Well, the feeling’s mutual,” he said, sighing as he leaned back against the cushion. “Could never figure out why you were with him.”

Fuck, why did I say that?

“He’s a family friend. Charming. Sophisticated. The kind of guy my parents wanted me to be with. When he asked me out, I agreed. I knew he had his flaws, but I looked past them,” you explained as he turned his head to pay better attention. You swallowed a little before you continued. “Which is another reason I feel stupid. I cared despite the red flags. I set myself up to get hurt.”

“You ignored your instincts because you cared, but that doesn’t make you stupid. Stop calling yourself that.”

You nodded, reaching for the water. He caught the ice before it could slip from your hand, keeping it there as you took a sip. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“The girl he was with was an old girlfriend. A stunningly beautiful socialite who just happened to be in town. They thought I’d still be at work,” your lip trembled. “She didn’t even look sorry that I caught them. It was like she knew she was better than me. And I know deep down he wanted me to be more like her.”

Fuck that.

“Anyone who jumps in bed with a guy and knows they’re with someone else isn’t better than you. They deserve each other. You deserve better.”

“You really believe that?” you asked, a tear falling.

Before you could wipe it away, he reached over and caught it with his fingertip. “I do. And I know it hurts like hell. He should’ve been faithful and worshiped the ground you walked on. You don’t deserve anything less than that.”

Ari thought he said the wrong thing when your expression went blank, setting the ice pack on the table. “Can I have a hug, please? You’ve always been so nice to me and I could really use one.”

Whatever you want.

The second he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, a fresh wave of tears came. Wetness gathered on his chest as you let it out. He wasn’t used to people turning to him as a source of comfort, but he instinctively rubbed your back and nuzzled the top of your head with his chin. He wanted to rip Carter limb from limb for reducing you to this. The demented part of him wanted to stay alive just so he could watch you thrive without him. 

No matter what happened, Ari would make sure you were happy.

Your tears slowed after a minute, but you stayed in his hold. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled against his chest. “You’re really warm. I think you are a beast.”

Ari chuckled, his large hand sliding up and down your back to soothe you. “You figured it out. Don’t tell anyone.”

“It’ll be our secret,” you said, lifting your head. Having you against him, you robbed him of his breath again. “Could I ask one more favor and I’d be forever in your debt? And you don’t have to.”

“Name it.”

“Would you be willing to help me get some of my stuff out of there later? I can pay you.”

“I don’t want your money. I can help,” he assured you. He would do it for free just to see the look on that prick’s face. “On one condition.”

“Name it,” you smiled, echoing his words.

“Come to my next race?” he casually suggested, hoping it didn’t sound like a date. He didn’t want you to think he was insensitive to your current feelings. “No pressure. No expectations. I know you just ended a relationship, but I think you could use a friend.”

“I’ll be there,” you promised, bringing a smile to his face. He hoped he didn’t look too excited, especially since you were still hurt. “I’ve been wanting to go for ages and now I have no reason not to.”

“I think you’ll like it. And don’t worry about your stuff. If you know where it needs to go, I’ll get some of the guys to help me out. In fact," he took your hand, the one you punched Carter with, and brought it to his lips. He swore he heard a slight whimper when they met your skin. "I'll even get your phone back before you head out."

"Thank you," you said breathlessly, clearing your throat as you looked away for a second. It felt good knowing he took your breath away, too. "I mean it. Thank you so much, Ari."

Ari knew your friend would show up any minute, so he cherished the feeling of holding you for a bit longer. He meant what he said about you needing a friend. The wound would take time to heal and he would help you see that you were perfect.

 A sweet and tart girl who made everyone around you smile.

He just hoped you wouldn’t hold it against him when he punched Carter in his smug face.

*****

We'll see more of Beast and Sweetart, along with some other riders, soon. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

[queenofspades20]

Steve deserves what he gets

Make Yourself at Home

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You find a familiar face in your home after a long day. Word Count: Over 2.1k Warnings: Pining, fluff, feels, swearing, sass, a bit of humor, mentions of blood and trauma, Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?) A/N: Hey, lovelies! I began this in June of 2021. That's right! I'm slowly, but surely, trying to make my way through WIPs and this felt good to complete. Shockingly no smut for Sinday. Beta read by the beautiful @buckyownsmylife, but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by the wonderful @sweeterthanthis. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

To say that you had a rough work day was an understatement. Between spilling your drink all over yourself on your way to your desk, being unprepared for a last minute meeting (which your boss called you out on), and your system crashing right before your report was finished, you were done. All you wanted to do was curl up on the couch with a stiff drink. Anything to forget that you had to stay at that place to get a paycheck. 

I can't even fuck out my frustrations since I'm painfully single. I really need to buy a new toy.

The moment you walked in your front door, you knew it wouldn't be a relaxing evening. The glow from the living room gave it away. Sighing, you tossed your bag and keys down before heading into the room. You weren’t shocked when you saw Bucky Barnes slumped against your couch, but you weren't exactly happy either.

The dark tactical gear clashed with the soft throw pillows surrounding the soldier. He often looked larger than his 6'3" height since he took up space, but he somehow looked like he belonged there. He cut his long locks some time ago, his short, dark hair urging you to run your fingers through it. Maybe you could pull it if he gave you the chance.  

I would have a crush on a man who may have a death wish.

“Hey, doll,” he smirked when he acknowledged your presence. “We really need to stop meeting like this.”

“Well, maybe we would if you would STOP BREAKING INTO MY FUCKING HOUSE!”

He seemed to wince more at your tone than the wound on his right arm. “What can I say? You and your place are comforting.”

You tried to ignore the way your heart raced faster at his sincerity. “You’re bleeding on my couch!”

“Sorry. I’ll get it cleaned or replaced. I promise,” he swore as he sat up more, smiling a bit when you rushed over to help.

“That’s what you said about my rug,” you muttered as you sat down. How does someone bleeding smell so good? He already had your first aid kit, water and towels on the coffee table. He knew by heart where you kept everything. "What happened this time? Who did this to you?"

Bucky’s smile widened as he shifted to give you more room. “Why? Will you take him out for me?”

“I just might,” you said. Truthfully, your heart stopped whenever you saw him in a state like this, even though he bounced back quickly. And you wanted to hurt anyone who hurt him. 

I’ve got it bad. Why am I like this?

"I’m flattered, but I handled him and you don’t need to worry about it. Fucker had a knife up his sleeve though. Not as nice as mine," he told you as you opened the kit, taking a moment to figure out what you needed to clean the wound with.

"Better not let Steve catch you swearing. He might chastise you."

"Don't let that punk fool you. He swears like a sailor and he's still kicking himself for saying 'language' to his team. Wish I could've been there to hear that."

The fondness made you smile a little. You were glad Bucky had a good friend by his side. You were also flattered that Bucky trusted you enough to tell you stories. "Super soldier reflexes certainly don't stop you from getting hurt, do they?"

"Nope. Still human."

"You know, sometimes I think you fake these just so you have an excuse to visit me."

"You caught me," he half joked, something soft in his eyes as he looked at you. 

"Bucky, how many times have you broken in?"

"More than enough," he acknowledged.

The first time Bucky broke into your place, to hide out from someone whose name you can’t even remember, you almost took a swing at him because you thought he was a burglar. You, luckily, recognized the former Winter Soldier and he promised he wouldn’t hide out long. But after the day you had today, you were reconsidering grabbing the nearest object and throwing it at his head. If only for making you worry. 

I doubt it would knock any sense into him. And I shouldn't be mad at him. He didn't do anything. Except break in. Again. 

Every few weeks, Bucky let himself into your place when he got injured or needed a quiet place to relax. Some nights he talked to you and others he hardly said a word. He even left you "thank you" gifts following his visits. Admittedly, you looked forward to them, even on your bad days, because you simply got to see him. You just wish you knew why he kept coming back. 

"Seriously. Why don't you see a doctor or a nurse?" you questioned, carefully dabbing at the cut. "They're much more qualified than I am."

"I told you, doll. You and your place are more comforting."

"Stop calling me doll!"

"Sure thing, sassy," he smirked, making you groan when your cheeks felt hot. 

"Grumpy," you grumbled back at him. 

If I use one of his own knives on him, can I consider it self defense? 

"I'm not grumpy. I'm an old man," he argued.

"You don't look like an old man. My new boyfriend might be jealous."

Your eyes flickered up just in time to catch the tiny tick in his jaw. "You're seeing someone?"

"No," you scoffed, not bothering to continue with the joke. "Still single, like every other time you've shown up."

Bucky slowly exhaled, relaxing against the cushions again. "That's good," he whispered.

Your teeth ground together as you cleaned him up. Maybe it was good to him, but it wasn't to you. It was lonely.

"You okay?" he asked. 

"Fine," you lied, avoiding his gaze.

He gently caught your wrist before you pulled away, the metal cool against your skin. "I really am sorry about the couch. I know the last thing you want is to deal with me."

Guilt crept in when you saw hurt in his icy blue eyes. “It isn’t ‘dealing’ with you, Bucky, and I’m sorry for snapping. Work was shit, but that's no excuse to take it out on you."

“I'm sorry you had a bad day," he swore and you wished the ground would swallow you up. The man was hurt and he felt bad for you. "And I don’t blame you. I did kind of invade your space again.”

“It's okay," you said, glancing at your wrist. He was still holding it, his grip softer than you expected. "Why do you come here? Is it really comforting?”

He sighed as he rested his head against the cushion. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere since it’s my place,” you teased, making him chuckle. You did pride yourself on making the often stoic man laugh. “So, try me.”

"You're not afraid of me," he stated, his thumb moving in slow circles over your pulse. You weren't sure if he was aware that he was doing it, but it had your heart racing faster. "Most people are."

"I have no reason to be afraid of you. As many times as you've managed to break in, you would've hurt me long ago if you wanted to," you said, shaking your head. "And I don't think you'll do that."

"I've hurt and killed people," he swallowed as he looked at the ceiling.

You weren't sure if he wanted you to listen or respond, but you chose the latter. "I know," you acknowledged, shifting so you could face him as he lifted his head. "But from what I've heard and what you've told me, it wasn't you, Bucky. You didn't have a choice."

"It doesn't make what happened go away," he said, blinking rapidly at the wetness that filled his eyes.

Seeing him on the verge of tears made you blink a few times, too. You wanted to hug him, but refused to initiate that kind of touch without his permission. "No, it doesn't, but you aren't who they tried to force you to be."

"Then who am I?" his voice cracked as his grip tightened on your wrist.

It doesn't hurt. You won't hurt me.

"You're Bucky," you stated, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "You're a hero and good man. You're also a pain in my ass who keeps ruining my furniture."

Bucky chuckled, his nose scrunching like you told a hilarious joke. The sound soothed the cracks his tears formed in your heart. The pain hadn't left his eyes, but it began to fade. "That easy to answer, huh?"

"I wouldn't say that. I think it's just easier for us to see the best in others because we tend to see the worst in ourselves."

"Is that what you do? See the worst in yourself?"

"I try not to," you admitted, but you were human. It was easy to hyperfocus on your flaws. 

"I don't want you doing that," he said, frowning as his hand moved from your wrist to your fingers. 

The delicate touch had your thighs pressing together. You hoped his super soldier senses didn't detect arousal. Though you pretty much were turned on at some point during each visit, this was a heart-to-heart moment and no time to want him.

"You don't have to worry about me."

"But I do. I worry about you when I'm not around," he said, sitting up a bit as you moved closer. "It's one of the reasons I don't use your front door. I don't want your neighbors to recognize me and be afraid."

"Yes, because breaking and entering is safer. Great logic, grumpy."

Bucky laughed, his eyes warm again. "Can I admit something and you can throw me out, sassy?"

"I won't throw you out, but I'm listening."

He cleared his throat, toying with your fingers. "I don't have nightmares after I see you."

His words hit you in your chest. You didn't know what to say. "You don't?"

"No," a heartbeat passed before he spoke again. "Most nights I wake up in a cold sweat, remembering the screams and fear. I remember everything."

"Bucky, I'm so sorry," you spoke, wishing you could take that pain away.

"The days I see you before I go home, I think of your smile, your scent, even your sass. A woman who showed me kindness time and time again, even on tiring and long days," he smiled sadly as you hung on his every word. "I eventually fall asleep and wake up peacefully. Nothing else I do works."

It was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to you. "I had no idea."

"It's why I'm glad you don't have a boyfriend because I know he wouldn't tolerate me being around. Among other reasons."

You almost threw yourself at him, but had to maintain your dignity as you carefully leaned in. You weren't sure if the temperature rose in the room, but the sudden tension had you breathing faster. "What other reasons?"

"I think you know," he whispered, his gaze dropping to your lips. 

Oh, shit. 

"For the record, no boyfriend of mine will tell me who I can and can't be friends with."

"I don't doubt that," he said, placing a hand on your cheek. 

"He needs to clean up his messes," you teased. "Like bleeding on my couch."

"That's a given," he smiled, his massive thighs opening so you could move in closer.

"I would also like it if he took me out on a date once in awhile," you added. 

"I can take you out," he offered as you pressed closer, your heart pounding faster. You were practically in his lap and he wasn't stopping you. "Wherever you want to go."

"Yeah? You want to be my boyfriend?" you asked, smiling at how silly the question sounded. "You've already bought me gifts."

"If you'll let me," he answered, his lips a fraction away from yours. "I'll even use the front door."

"I'd like that," you sighed, closing your eyes as his nose touched yours.

Finally. He's finally going to kiss me.

"Buck!" Steve said from the window, climbing inside as the two of you broke apart. Bucky caught you before you fell backwards. The former captain's boots didn't make a sound as they touched the floor, brushing his gloved hands on his thighs. "Why didn't you answer your- Oh. I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?"

Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me?!

Bucky ran his hand over his face with a sigh and handed you one of the pillows. "Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?" 

 "Duck."

*****

Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

[queenofspades20]

Take a Chance on Me  Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

[queenofspades20]

This one made me laugh, especially when I saw Sox in the window

Love this by Bosslogic!

[queenofspades20]

for the drabble requests, ANYTHING with 40s Bucky??? <3

Pairing: 40s!Bucky x Reader

Word count: 750

Warnings: Fluff with the charming 40s!Bucky, Childhood friends to lovers :), Maybe some idiots in love <3

a/n: Thank you for this drabble request!! 🤍 40s Bucky is always so fun to write!

____________________________________________

The old leather booth bounced against your back as you took your seat, jostling Bucky as he leaned against the window. He shot you a playful look and knocked his knee against yours under the table. 

“‘Bout time you showed up,” he teased. Across from you, Steve offered a soft, lopsided smile as Bucky continued, “Been waiting on you for over a century. Thought your milkshake was gonna evaporate.” 

You rolled your eyes, swiping the chilled glass from his fingers. “Yeah, I’m sure it was evaporating. Couldn’t possibly be that you were drinking it while I was on my way over, could it?” 

Bucky scoffed, leaning back into the booth and throwing his arm behind your seat. You did your best to keep your face from heating at his proximity, the deep, soothing scent of him so familiar and, still, so thrilling. Steve caught the way your eyes fluttered, tossing you a knowing smirk that you played off with confusion. 

“Now, why would I do that?” Bucky asked, knocking his head to the side to look down at you. “Not like me to act so ungentlemanly in front of a lady.” 

You sucked at your straw as you met his gaze, raising an eyebrow as Steve finally piped up from his place at the booth. “Saw you drinkin’ her shake, Buck. Right after you made a big fuss about Suzy bringing the wrong flavor.” 

“You’re such a punk, Steve, you know that? And y/n doesn’t like chocolate. Was I just supposed to make her drink a chocolate shake when she doesn’t like chocolate?” 

You bit a smile into your straw, leaning your shoulder over just enough to feel the heat of Bucky’s chest against your arm. The burn of Bucky’s eyes on you had your heart thudding irregularly; you could’ve sworn he angled closer when he brought his glare back to Steve. 

The blonde raised his hands in surrender. “Not sayin’ that. Just thought y/n should have all the facts about this whole milkshake debacle.” 

“Thank you, Steve,” you stressed, jutting your elbow out to playfully jab at Bucky’s side. “At least someone’s honest around here. And don’t think I would’ve believed your ‘gentlemanly act’ for one second, Barnes. You only use that on the girls you’re trying to go steady with.” 

After so many years around Bucky and his antics, that was something you were certain of. You and Steve would always sit back at dance halls and diners and watch as Bucky turned on his charm for the ladies. Steve always insisted that none of them were going to last—which he was right about, somehow—but you were sure that was just because he suspected you had a crush. 

You’d never admit to that; Bucky was your best friend, just like Steve. But that didn’t mean you could just ignore that weird feeling in your chest every time he kissed your head after he walked you home. And you couldn’t just pretend that the hand he placed on the back of your head each time he hugged you didn’t make you feel lighter—maybe even giddy, somehow. 

Bucky shifted his arm off the back of the booth and let it rest on your shoulders instead. “Hey, I said what I said, sweets.” 

You raised your brows in surprise—whether from his words or the weight of his arm, you couldn’t be sure. You opened your mouth to ask a question you hadn’t even formed in your mind yet, when the trill of a waitress interrupted your jumbled thoughts. 

“I get the right shake for your girl, Barnes?” she asked. 

You whipped your head around at her words, meeting her annoyed expression with one of surprise. “His what?” 

She chewed her gum a few times, glancing at the arm around your shoulders and then at the cup in your hands. “He said his girl doesn’t like chocolate. That not you?” 

“I—” 

“That’s her,” Steve interrupted, saving both you and Bucky from a painful conversation. “Thanks, Suz. Can I get another coke?” 

You blinked at Suzy, then over at Steve, and then finally turned to stare at the flush on Bucky’s face. His arm was still around you, but he used his other hand to scratch at the back of his neck, a small, bashful grin taking over his face. 

When you made no move to speak, he turned to you, lips inches from your own as he reiterated, “I said I wanted to be a gentleman around you, didn’t I?”