#'greeting the sunrise'

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Defender Strange - ‘greeting the sunrise’ part two

a Defender Strange x Female Reader fic [continued from]

edit courtesy of @doctorstrangeaskblog

summary: a sweet & unexpected friendship flourishes between the Sorcerer Supreme and a Sorceress in training at Kamar-Taj - and in due time, turns to something more💖 characters: Defender Strange, Sorceress Female Reader/Y/N genre: friendship, mutual pining, slow burn, first kisses rating: general audience (for now) word count: 3.5k

You set your toothbrush back in the holder and turned your eyes to the small mirror above the sink, surprised that your eyes weren’t puffy from arising at this extra early hour. Stephen had invited you to join him just outside the compound, for an exercise he referred to as ‘greeting the sunrise’. “There’s nothing quite like it,” he had promised, “Just yourself and nature’s glory all around you. It gives you a wonderful perspective and a feeling of…well, harmony with the material world. And a sense of your own, unlimited possibilities.” Certainly, that was a tempting inducement—along with his assurance that it might help you feel more confident and relaxed about facing your tests to come. But being honest with yourself, you knew you had agreed mainly to spend more time in his company.

As he’d suggested, you donned your most comfortable workout wear. A lightweight linen tank over an athletic bra, and loose cotton culottes with comfy, well broken-in canvas shoes. You’d pulled your hair into a high ponytail, smiling to imagine that Stephen might also be securing his thick mane into his usual style at this exact moment. The low, pleasant flutter of butterflies in your stomach announced itself soon after you crossed over the threshold of you room, growing stronger with each step towards your destination. Not a surprise; this had become the norm where Stephen was concerned.

The coming dawn had lightened the sky enough for you to find the little path he had described for you to follow to his special place, which offered a pristine view of the mountains on the near horizon. You found him sitting cross-legged on a bamboo mat, eyes closed in meditation. Every line of Stephen’s body beckoned to you. To your heart. His peerless profile and long neck. His broad shoulders and bare, muscular arms. The perfection of his posture—never had you known a man so straight-backed in every waking moment. Even the calm, deep cadence of his breathing held you mesmerized and unwilling to disturb the serenity he projected.

Fortunately, he must have sensed your presence because he opened his eyes and turned your way. With a small toss of his head, he beckoned to you, “Good morning, Y/N. No need to be shy—c’mon over.” You watched him unfold his long form and take to his feet, while crossing to him.

“Good morning,” you grinned, hoping you didn’t sound as lovesick as you felt. “This place is gorgeous. Yoga exercises aside, it would make perfect spot for a picnic.”

His eyes danced with good humor, though he laid his index finger against his lips a moment. “It’s one of my few secrets—only Wong, and now you, know it’s my place to make a quiet escape for a time…when I need one.”

“I’m honored, Stephen.” Your first blush of the day made you feel self-conscious, but you promised him gamely, “And your secret is safe with me.”

“You’re trying too hard, Y/N,” Stephen told you patiently, “This is meant to center you. To allow you to simply coexist with your internal energy, so that when you tap into other dimensional energies for spell work or conjuring shields and weapons, they can blend seamlessly with your own.” He gave a little huff of amusement, “This is not meant to be a workout. You understand?”

“Yes…yes, I do…” you sighed in exasperation, jutting your lower lip out enough to blow away the damp tendrils of hair that were stuck to your forehead. He had given you a full demonstration of the exercise, along with a thorough explanation, but twenty minutes in you were still failing. “Maybe I just can’t do it.” You pressed you lips tight against giving into a more emotional outburst. It wouldn’t help you get where your teacher, friend, andthe soul you admiredmost in all the world, was trying to lead you.

Stephen wore that smirk you coveted well, the one that showed the smile it could evolve into in the shallow creases of his cheek. “Yes, you can, Y/N—and I promise that you will. Sooner than you think.”

The skeptical expression you wore moved him to a new tactic. “Alright, let’s try this. Assume the position.”

You quirked your brow and smirked back, as your mind teased you with the double entendres his choice of words invoked. Strange circled behind you as you spread your arms wide and planted your feet an arm’s length apart, with your right knee bent as you leaned in that direction. Straight-backed as could be, you nearly jumped in surprise when he placed one hand on your left shoulder and the other beneath your bicep. A shiver of delight ran down your spine while you stopped a moan from escaping your throat. You had avoided any physical contact with him for so long that you wondered if he had even a clue of what his touch could do to you. “Relax.” He drew the word out as he ran both hands slowly and firmly along the length of your arm.

You felt anything but relaxed as he repeated the motion several times more, your belly grown tight with the need for a far more intimate, forbidden touch. But you must have hidden it well, as he encouraged you. “That’s right…there it is…let the tension just flow out from the tips of your fingers. Good…doing good…”

And somehow, it did. Was it the banked power of his touch? The warmth of his own energy somehow suffusing your skin? The low, rich timbre of his voice, soothing you even as you were hyper aware how close to your ear he was speaking? Once he removed his hands, you felt as though your arm was floating in place, with no effort to keep it there on your part.

“Good…very good, Y/N.” Were you fooling yourself, or did he sound proud of you? Pleased and proud beyond that of a dispassionate teacher and or even a friend. You wished it could be so, with every loping beat of your heart. He moved to your right side, following through with the same massaging of your right arm, and urged you to turn your focus inward.

You closed your eyes, to concentrate as Stephen instructed. Drew several deep, cleansing breaths, trying to rise above the distractions around you—the most obvious of which was the man himself. Calling upon the discipline which had been one of the earliest lessons on your journey to become a master of the mystic arts, you dismissed your surroundings. The growing warmth of the rising sun upon your face. The cool, refreshing nip of the morning air, in counterpoint to the sweat of your brow. You easily let fade the early morning bird calls as they greeted the dawn and one another—but a more compelling sound was nearly impossible to dismiss. Stephen’s voice, low and patient and kind–just as it sounded in the dreams that had begun to come more frequently since you had started spending time in his company.

More beguiling still, was how close he was. Not just by touch, but by the strength of his presence. His warm breath raising the fine hairs on the back of your neck and tickling the shell of your ear. Speaking your name with an unexpected intimacy that made you weak…while making you ache with unfulfillable longing. Maybe accepting his invitation to join him in his morning stretches had been a mistake. For although your body seemed to be following his intent, that stubborn desire for him filled your core. You’d have to get away from him soon or betray your improper secret.

Perhaps he felt that imperceptible change, perhaps he already knew you well enough to read your body’s cues. He left no space between you, the solid wall of his chest against your back. Surely, he could feel you tremble, even before husking against your ear, “You’ve got this, my dear…just like I knew you would…” Stephen trailed off, though he didn’t budge. The growing tension in his body seemed to signal a struggle. He drew a long, sharp breath, and without meaning to, you echoed him, waiting, wondering what was to come next. Daring to hope that he strained exactly as you did—to not expose a forbidden truth.

And then he broke. In your imaginings it had almost always been so, for what woman doesn’t fantasize that the man she secretly wants, wants her just as desperately? But you had honestly expected that if this moment were ever to come, the revelation would be yours to make.

“…my dear, Y/N…my darling…” Stephen brushed his lips to the back of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply, as though to fix it in his memory. He lingered for only a moment and then backed away, stunned at his own behavior--and you felt that without him to lean against, your legs might just give out.

“I’m sorry…so sorry, Y/N,” he stuttered, as you turned to face him, too shocked by the disparity between his deeds and his words to form a coherent reply. “This is wrong. The worst sort of trespass of your trust.” His voice was filled with regret and longing, proof that he was somehow caught between the two. “I swear on my soul I didn’t invite you to join me for this…this purpose. I value your friendship, and respect you too much as a woman and as an initiate of the Mystic Arts to give into such an…unfortunate…impulse.”

The shame on his face was unbearable, and you needed to tell him that he had done nothing wrong. That you wanted him too, with every breath you drew. In every moment in his company. You took a small step closer and extended your hand his way, your throat so thick with emotion that you had to clear it before you spoke. “Stephen, please…I…there is…” You struggled for the right words to assuage him, “…you’ve made no trespass here…I promise you. I promise you that…that nothing could be further from the truth.” Your palm throbbed with the need to cup his cheek, while your heart ached to soothe his knit brow.

He shook his head and let it hang down, the uncharacteristic slump of his shoulders speaking all too eloquently of regret. You could not allow him to believe he had overstepped some boundary between you, nor berate himself for following the most natural impulse in the world. Now was the time to assert yourself—for Stephen’s sake.

If he felt you approach, he gave no sign. But you stood in his space and took his hand with no hesitation--the warmth of your skin, the rare intimacy of your touch, appearing to be enough to calm his usual tremoring. Definitely a good sign. “You’ve done nothing to beat yourself up over,” you told him quietly.   Stephen gave a slow, subtle shake of his head—but he was clearly listening. Time to be your bravest, you told yourself. Be brave for the both of us. You drew a long breath to gather your wisdom, then exhaled slowly. “I think we both know there’s been something more than just friendship growing between us, Stephen.” Speaking his name already felt different; like it had been meant all along to fill your mouth with the sweetest taste of your life. “We’ve both been trying our best not to show it—but I think it was bound to show itself eventually. Like it has this morning.” You lifted his hand to your lips, flush with certainty that this was what you needed to do to sway him past the sticking point—and recalling his own small gesture those several weeks ago, brushed your lips softly across his knuckles.

He raised his eyes to yours, your mouth just hovering above his fingers, and his eyes gave answer with a mix of relief and acceptance in their sunlight-paled, blue crystal depths. The smile that dawned on his face was the confirmation, and in a heartbeat more, he had gathered you into his arms. His smile was the only sunrise that mattered now. And if you were blessed in the months and years ahead, you would witness a thousand more at least.

“Your wisdom, as usual, is…impeccable,” he hummed, then bit his plump lower lip as his gaze focused on your mouth. His embrace was solid and reassuring, allowing you to relax; you felt his banked strength in the palms and fingers of his gentle hands, showing no need to rush or overwhelm you. “It always is.” Stephen slid his right hand up from your lower back to cup your cheek, and you couldn’t help closing your eyes and nestling against his warm skin. “So very wise…but so very soft too…” he mused, almost to himself, “…an irresistible combination…from the first time we spoke…” He stroked the pad of his thumb along your cheekbone, and you drew a halting breath while your eyes fluttered open. “Why did it take us so long to get here? I’ve wanted to kiss you for…it feels like forever now…know what I mean?”

You agreed with a swift nod, not surprised at the warmth and the patience filling your chest—for you had known in the depths of your silent longing that once such an acknowledgement came from either of you, your hearts would lead the way. Stephen quirked the brow above the crooked lift of his small, satisfied smile and your last thought before he brushed his lips to yours was ‘at last!’.

That first contact was soft, his lips as tender as you’d expected, and you couldn’t help the soft purr of assent in your throat. You felt the full curve of his smile as he cupped your other cheek, while you laid both hands against his chest. The heat of his skin beneath his worn linen shirt was pure enticement, as you knew it was on your account and not from his morning stretches. Even the pace of his heart matched yours.

When he pulled away from this quiet kiss, you followed forward with parted lips and eyes still closed, unwilling to relinquish the connection. “My sweet, sweet Y/N,” was all he managed before returning for more. Nudging your ready mouth with his enough to slip his lower lip between yours, applying soft suction on your upper lip, while tilting your head back slightly. Tenderly stealing your breath and your reason.

Stephen ran the tip of his tongue along your trapped lip several times, urging open your mouth to accept its patient thrust. You moaned as you accepted it, aching for him to overcome all your senses this way. The thorough dance of his tongue upon yours held the flavor of mint toothpaste and the promise of how well he would spoil you as a lover. Your joy as he finally claimed you surpassed any of your life.

And how easily you both lost track of time as the rosy hues of dawn gave way to early morning proper! At some point you had slipped one hand onto the bare skin of his neck, raising a low, delicious growl in the back of his throat, and quite obviously quickening his pulse. Reminding you that Stephen was surely even more touched-deprived than you. His embrace was firm but cautious, for he knew the extremes of his own strength and took great care to avoid causing you even the slightest discomfort. But the solid press of his body to yours hid no secrets; as you grew ever soft and eager for his touch, so he grew hard with months of desire denied.

Eventually, Stephen pulled you along as he sought a seat on a moss-covered outcropping of rock, taking you onto his lap, leaving you breathless as he kissed from the tender skin beneath your ear onto your neck, breathing sweet praise on your flesh between kisses. You sighed his name again and again, gasping your surprise as he cupped one of your breasts. “Is this alright,” he asked, not letting go.

Dizzied by how good everything between you felt, you declared amidst your sighs, “Yes…yes, my darling…more right than anything in my life…oh gaaaaawd…” This was all so much more than ‘alright’. Already better than the fleeting dreams you woke breathless from and more fulfilling than the idealistic fantasies you’d indulged in. That single word echoed at the back of your mind as you lost yourself in Stephen’s tender affections. Alright? You soon realized that if he had wanted to take you in the open, for anyone to stumble upon, you had no will to deny him.

And yet…

And yet.

And yet, at least one of you must remember the need for decorum, if only owing to Stephen’s auspicious position. As heavenly as this interlude was, as much as you had both been longing to express the desire that had flowered between you, how would it be if the Sorcerer Supreme were found indulging in such an earthly, selfish pursuit—with a woman who ultimately served under his authority?  You could easily imagine the scandal, calling into question his ability to be impartial and perhaps causing a loss of respect among the ranks of wizards under his command. You loved Stephen too much to allow such a disaster to fall upon him. Merely the thought of it created a chilling shadow upon the happiness that suffused your soul. You groaned as you accepted that for now, you must stop things from getting out of hand.

Stephen would have felt the change in you, even without that vocalization. The immediate, tender concern in his voice was a balm against your disappointment. “What is it, Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You shook your head when he raised his to face you squarely, watching you blink back the sting of your tears. “Honey, please…have I pushed too far, too soon?” He lowered his eyes and added ruefully, “You must forgive me. Please. It’s been too long since I’ve felt this way for anyone, and you deserve…” Stephen looked up again, his soulful eyes pleading his case. “…you deserve someone less clumsy at this…”

Smiling sadly, you laid one hand aside his cheek, and traced the fingertips of your other hand upon his furrowed brow. “My darling…Stephen…you’ve been perfect to me in every way. My dreams come true.” Like a prince among men. “But don’t you think we should be more careful? If we’re seen…well…gossip will spread like wildfire…”

“I won’t hear of it!” A darkness that must be very like that which his enemies face before he defeats them colored his noble features—and you felt a thrill prickle your skin at the thought that this time it was on your behalf. “Anyone doing so will answer for it to me!”

“That would be the worst sort of reaction, darling. You can’t be seen playing favorites in any way, positively or negatively.” Stephen’s passion was dear to your heart, and all the more reason for you to remain the reasonable one. “It would undermine your authority—and I won’t…I can’t…be responsible for that.”

His eyes and nostrils flared—so damn sexy it would be one of your favorite images to dwell on as you drifted off to sleep tonight—before he asked, “What can we do then…what’s our remedy? I won’t give you up.”

“Nor I, you,” you sighed, “We’ll just need to be discreet. Especially over the next couple weeks. Let me pass my tests without any appearance of undue influence…and then…”

“And then?” You adored how he was warming to your reasoning.

“And then…hmmmm…we’ll revisit our public boundaries and see where we go from there.”

Stephen was silent a moment, then laid his palm upon your hand on his cheek, holding it in place as he turned enough to kiss it. “And what about this? I’ll be wanting to hold you every moment you’re near. I’ll be hungering for your kiss even when we’re in the crowded courtyard or dining hall.”

The heat that arose in your cheeks came as much from how he his eyes confessed the truth of his proclamations as the promises themselves. And he smiled a bit wolfishly, seeing the color there. “You damn well better, Stephen. Because I will too.” You dared a swift, soft kiss on his lips, but he held you there, exacting a deeper, more enduring toll before he let you go.

He leaned his forehead to yours before you rose to leave. “Our tea times remain,” he reminded you, “To change them now would be suspicious, don’t you think?” Your smile was impish for both of your sakes. “As you command me, Doctor Strange, I will not fail you.” You backed a few steps away, loathe to leave him with the sun shining full on the face you adored and the form that you knew by heart, though your hands had not been allowed to explore it yet. “And I’ll count to the minute…to the very second…all the long hours between this meeting and the next.” With a reverential dip of your head, you turned to go, fighting the urge to look back, knowing you weren’t strong enough to resist begging for a hundred kisses more before you left.  

No Defense for the Heart - Defender Strange series

part one - 'of secret longing and hidden grief’

part two - 'of spilled tea and more than sympathy’

part three - ‘greeting the sunrise’ pt 1

part three - ‘greeting the sunrise’ pt 2

part four - ‘I’ll always be holding you’ pt 1

part four - ‘I’ll always be holding you’ pt 2 

part four - ‘I’ll always be holding you’ pt 3 (eventually)

tagging: @harlekin6 @valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn @doctorstrangeaskblog @frostandflamesfanfic @ben-locked @aeterna-auroral-avenger @paperclippedmime @ironstrange1991 @strange-dreams-are-made-of-these @clea-strange-is-the-way @fantasyfan4life @fanartka @blue-iris-messenger @strangelockd @strangesunicornsparkle @cerene-ciderr @lovecleastrange @ninetiesloki @lucimorningst4r @strangeps3lyricsmuffin @cerene-ciderr @dragonqueen89 @byondtheveil @ironducke

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#my writing #'greeting the sunrise' #No Defense for the Heart #Defender Strange #defender strange x female reader #defender strange x y/n #pining #mutual pining #slow burn #first kisses #romance #friends to lovers #doctor strange fan fiction #doctor strange fanfiction #stephen strange fan fiction #stephen strange fanfiction #doctor strange x female reader #doctor strange x y/n #stephen strange x female reader #stephen strange x y/n #defender strange #my beloved defender #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #Strangebatch #My Eternal Muse

[iron-sparrow]

What sky are you?

SUNRISE no matter how many times you get knocked down, you always get back up. you defy expectations and stay true to yourself. you are a leader - maybe not in a traditional sense in that others follow you, but you've carved out your own path in life. you are kind but unyielding. you have strong opinions and values. there's a part of you that just wants to make everyone else around you happy, but you know your limits -- that you can only share what you have to give. you may seem unassuming to others at first but in time they will watch as you grow into something incredible.

That was my initial result. I then conscripted my partner to help me retake it and wound up with a different result. He insisted both are true of Yein, so...!

SUNSET you are wistful goodbyes and unspoken promises. you are warmth and comfort for others. but sometimes you give so much of yourself that it leaves you cold inside. it's bittersweet, offering other people the care and affection you crave for yourself as well, but you wouldn't do any less if it means the people you love are content. you're very grounded, but you long for things you can't quite name - perhaps a time when your heart was full and your spirit free.

Thank you for the tag, @oneiroy! I was super excited to see the mention. Now I'm gonna poke @this-is-ris and @nolanel-corbeaux, in case they're interested in playing.

Please feel free to try the QUIZ yourself, if you haven't already.

#tag game #ffxiv screenshots #elezen #duskwight #yein my beloved #they greet you like the sunrise #they embrace you like the sunset

[finngualart]

lived out in the countryside for about 3.5 years of my life and developed this habit of taking a picture of the view first thing in the morning. been back in the city for about a year now and i miss this so so much.

#photography #sunrise #dawn #taking a little moment for myself to appreciate the start of another day #and say hi to the sun #really gave my mental wellbeing a little boost #i need to get back into the habit of taking a little morning walk #instead of getting up and immediately switching on my pc to start working #it was easier at my old place because wouldn't you be eager to go outside if this view was there to greet you each day? #this house definitely had major downsides but gosh i dont think i'll ever live in a place again that will allow me to watch the sun rise #and it makes me sad

[twtsana]

just like ― 幸福

#sana icons #twice icons #gg icons #icons #2020 #2023 #2022 #long hair #brown hair #red hair #alcohol free era #taste of love #opening #moonlight sunrise #season greetings #hat

[twtmomo]

just like - 愛 ♥ ︎

#momo icons #twice icons #gg icons #icons #2023 #black hair #grey hair #long hair #instagram #photoshoot #season greetings #moonlight sunrise #b&w #b&w icons

[foxsoulart]

Wingless version below

#tmnt #tmnt oc #oc #elecia #tmnt 03 #elicia #morning sun #sunrise #mutant cat #magic wings #rooftop #sun #my art #greet the day #with love #mild scenery practice

[bybdolan]

a few days ago I chatted to an author I love about bob, bruce + britney spears...... one of my favorite moments of the year so far <3

#would love to just chat with him about music n books!!! #the kinda guy i would LOVE to sit next to on a train before sunrise style #but also man these meet and greets/book signings must be exhausting #i am glad we talked more about mutual interests than how much his book meant to be #because while that is true i also think hearing it 200 times a night s strange #asked about his favorite bob n brucie songs. no 1. question to ask ppl

[elemental-skylarking]

#countryside #rural #nature #cottage core #cottage aesthetic #farm life #farmcore #nature core #england #winter #frost #snow #horses #horse farm #farm track #sunrise #seasons greetings #equestrian #aesthetic #country life #mine

[zlatokryletz]

Greeting the new Sun🌞 A joyous winter solstice to y'all!🌟🪔

#greeting the sun #winter solstice #new sun #watercolor #holy cow #sunrise #spiritual #spiritual awakening #cow #blue #sun

[greetingsfromwanderlust]

#travel #adventure #explore #wanderlust #greetings from wanderlust #photographers on tumblr #travel journal #sunset #sunrise #moon

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Defender Strange - 'greeting the sunrise' part one

a Defender Strange x Female Reader fic [continued from]

summary: a sweet & unexpected friendship flourishes between the Sorcerer Supreme and a Sorceress in training at Kamar-Taj characters: Defender Strange, Sorceress Female Reader/Y/N genre: friendship, pining rating: general audience word count: 3.4k author's note: If you've been following this story, this installment may confuse you; it's part three of four (so far) and one I hadn't planned until I decided to post it all on AO3. As a result, you may already have read the events of part four (some smutty goodness). All I can ask, is please bear with me, as I plan to continue once both parts of 'greeting the sunrise' are posted. Thank you for reading!

You tossed and turned on your narrow bed, restless as your mind replayed the events of the evening, irritated that the oblivion of sleep continued to elude you. Doubting how much longer you could maintain your assertion that you saw Stephen as merely a friend; you had nearly given yourself away a number of times tonight and your sensible self was busy insisting it was time to cut and run before he recognized how hopelessly you were carrying a torch for him. Surely you could request a transfer to one of the Sanctums, so that you didn’t have to walk away from this new life, which you adored. New York would be best--especially because as Sorcerer Supreme, Stephen’s central place remained in Kamar-Taj--but you’d gladly embrace London or Hong Kong if they allowed you the necessary space away from him…and the foolishness you couldn’t escape as long as he was near.

You flipped onto your back, sighing hard, then softening as your mind replayed that beautiful moment again and again. The fleeting brush of his lips upon your fingertips—even now, just the memory made them tingle pleasantly, while recalling the gentle husk of his humble entreaty roused a warmth in your chest, filled with love and hope and longing. The longing you had already learned to live with; it was part of you now, in every waking breath you drew. The hope, though…you couldn’t afford to hope. The world you both inhabited dictated it would only be a of waste of energy, detracting from your focus on mission.

You needed to sleep; it was already nearly midnight, and you would need to be up with the dawn to ready yourself for one final training session on harnessing sufficient energy to create eldritch weaponry, before the Master of that discipline put you to the test. But all you could think of was Stephen. How, invariably, at the end of the day, stray hairs would fall from the binding of his ponytail, to lay soft against the warm, precious skin of his neck and frame his handsome face--both inviting your fingers to sweep them aside, though you would never be that bold. Of the handful of times you had caught him watching you, wearing a soft, unguarded expression; soft, so soft, as though his thoughts were also soft, sparking in you for a moment, the expectation he had soft feelings to confess. Your cheeks would fill with a telltale flame, so that you had to turn away before he realized your face had colored for him.

And his eyes, whether the pale crystal blue they appeared in sunlight, vivid blue by torchlight and firelight, or so dark in low light as his pupils went full and left only rims of their mutable blue-green—were as twin North Stars to you. Stars you would gladly trust to guide you if you ever lost you way or foundered in the shadow of mystic challenges you had yet to face. When you looked in Stephen’s eyes and let your eyes linger while allowing yourself to feel what was forbidden, for those brief seconds it seemed he recognized your truth and somehow felt the same way too.

Though you lost track of how long you lay in unwilling contemplation of the man who unwittingly owned your heart, sleep came eventually, once you found your wits and laid your arms at your sides to call upon the practice of your order, breathing deeply and steadily, relaxing to your three-syllable mantra. One you could never share with a single soul. Stephen’s eyes.

_____________________________________________

Little could you know that in his quarters across the compound, sleep confounded Stephen as well.

Successful personal relationships had eluded him his whole adult life. Since his years at Columbia, through post-grad and internship and residency, he’d been far too single-minded in his pursuit of excellence--in his drive to be the best in his chosen field—to be capable of forming true and lasting friendships. Let alone caring about his growing isolation. Stephen’s quest had monopolized his energy and caused him to sublimate his emotional needs. And worst of all, had forced him to abandon a part of himself that might have grown him into a different sort of man. For he had forgotten the romantic that lived quietly in the corner of his heart.

Despite the cold, harsh, sardonic treatment he’d suffered as Eugene Strange’s firstborn son, his mother Beverly had provided a soft, kind, and loving counterpoint. Her piano lessons opened a new world to her brilliant boy’s precisely mathematical mind. These weren’t just notes on paper—she taught him that they lived and breathed and were meant to express the wide range of human emotion and experience. Stephen had embraced her view wholeheartedly, eventually surpassing his mother’s skill and leaving him to crave for ever more, like Beverly’s little backyard flower garden thirsted for merciful rain in the cruel grip of a high, dry Nebraska summer. While a sixth-grade crush on a winsome English teacher got him reading well-above grade level, in search of the sort of romantic literature that Stephen believed might win her heart (and left him devastated when she returned to school after summer vacation a newly made Mrs. Baxter nee Williams).

Come freshman year of high school, Stephen had insisted on taking Latin, despite parental protests and the incredulous reactions of his boyhood friends. He’d had an inkling that mastering that ancient tongue might come in handy, and not too far in the future—he had felt a pull in two directions: medicine or medical research, and a career involving the language arts. Having developed an unforeseen love for the study of languages, along with their origins and idiosyncrasies—and having discovered he had such an aptitude (along with the stunning realization that he had a humble talent for writing poetry, upon having penned a handful of poems as a means of wooing a couple of girls that he’d fallen for)—Stephen had seriously considered a future in the study and teaching of Classical Literature.

Though medicine eventually asserted itself as his future vocation, Stephen had parlayed that Latin into learning most of the Romance languages by the close of his junior year and had remained well in touch with the roots of his surprising and deeply imbedded romantic nature. But in the late summer before he was set to depart for a full ride at Columbia University, those idealistic, creative qualities had gone into a deep, dark, numb sleep after he had failed his sister Donna. At the cost of her life. That was when he had turned his back on the useless dreams and puerile fantasies of a Romantic.

Having been unable to save Donna from drowning to death, Stephen’s goal ultimately became expunging away the guilt he felt over it, which lived in every cell of his body. He had never defined his mission as such but had carried it with him into every operating theatre in which he worked his miracles; it lay silently beneath the words of every journal article he authored and every speech he gave. It was the invisible wall that perpetually separated him from true satisfaction. From feeling he at last had done enough.

After that, Stephen rarely allowed himself to grow close to anyone, refusing to name his fear of loss and the attendant vulnerability as a weakness. If he didn’t commit…if he didn’t allow himself to care too deeply…he wouldn’t need to manage the pain when they inevitably left him. Oh, he had college buddies alright, but none with whom he would stay up into the wee hours of the night, half drunk on cheap, warm beer, discussing philosophical questions, fully drunk on the hopes of a brilliantly managed future—or debating which coed was the finest lay on campus.

Yes, he had played the field. With his easy charm and remarkable physical grace and good looks, Stephen rarely got a ‘no’ when he approached a pretty girl to get to know her better. Few of those liaisons ever lasted long enough to be called relationships, and that left him free of encumberment as he reached for each rung on the ladder of his success. Christine Palmer—on again, off again, strong-willed, smart as a whip, able to appreciate and top his oft corny humor, soft-hearted and kind, patient beyond any woman he’d ever known—was the one exception to that rule. And because of his fear—and his growing arrogance amidst his meteoric rise to become the preeminent neurosurgeon in the country—he had hurt her shamelessly numerous times and finally lost the best and most tolerant soul when it came to his incalculable flaws. In Stephen’s mind, the idea of finding someone new to love and be loved back despite his selfish nature, was hopeless indeed.

And yet slowly but surely he had found someone he could love. Someone that already felt like home, as each day you showed him the sort of care and understanding that he had accepted years ago was never meant for him. Stephen’s affection had grown from pleasant anticipation for the evening teas you shared when he wasn’t off on a mission, to a quiet ache in the center of his chest when he had to miss that nightly ritual. An ache that had grown more constant and more keen of late, ushering him to sleep each night, greeting him upon awakening, waiting to remind him in those rare moments when he wasn’t fully focused on his duties, that it remained. He felt it even in your presence now, tempered with the sweetness that came with recognizing that—against all expectations—he was already in love. Along with the strengthening belief that you felt the same for him.

But what joy could he take in this? Stephen could long with his whole soul to make you his, silently cherish everything that made him love you, but the fact remained: his life was not his own to lead as pleased him. As Sorcerer Supreme, his duty to humanity was sacrosanct; for the sake of mankind, he must always be ready to make the toughest choices and most painful sacrifices, even unto that of laying down his life. There could be no room for a pursuit of personal happiness in that simple equation. And what woman should have to settle for never being her man’s top priority—and living with the constant shadow that the day might come when he wouldn’t return to her, by virtue of a higher commitment?

Besides, he was your superior and his feelings for you had to be out of bounds. Nothing in the books, scrolls, and secretly inscribed relics that had come to Stephen when he assumed that auspicious mantle, indicated he was excluded from the commonsense rules about romantic relationships, let alone close friendships, with those under his command. He couldn’t allow himself to be compromised. Stephen knew that he should nip these feelings in the bud before they flourished into something he could no longer resist.

As Sorcerer Supreme he should put distance between you and himself by assigning you duty at a safe distance from Kamar-Taj. Given enough time, such a separation might serve to lay to rest his tender feelings for you. He could even tell himself that forcing you away was to keep you from harm. And some nights he would even resolve to take this course of action—until you ended up crossing his path come day, either near at hand or from across the compound, and then came that beautiful ache reminding him that he was more than his title and his mission, driving home the truth: no matter the consequences, he couldn’t bear the thought of sending you away.

_____________________________________________

And thus, Time held its sway and the seasons transitioned quietly from late spring to high summer, while your feelings only deepened. You and Stephen grew to know each other even better, and even in the silences of time spent together, there lived an ease and sense of compatibility that you were sure would be noticeable to anyone seeing the two of you together. If you would’ve had the courage to speak of it aloud, Stephen might have told you that Wong (his closest friend and right-hand man in all matters of the Mystic Arts) had made a share of comments—not questioning, just merely observing—regarding the nature of the friendship he witnessed flourishing between the Sorcerer Supreme and a Sorceress still in training. Advising his superior and fellow Master to be cautious enough, as he proceeded, to avoid any appearance of favoritism—while remaining silent on his opinion that the two of you appeared to be a good match. Even a beneficial one for Stephen’s emotional health.

Come summers end you would be facing a series of tests that would determine if you were fit and ready to earn the rank of Master. Though you would never ask for his help to prepare, Stephen read the signs of your fraying nerves and your mounting fear of failure easily, from having experienced the same himself. He remained patient when you would suddenly turn skittish if the topic of your readiness arose and didn’t offer a word of disappointment when you had to call your time with him short in order to practice and study. If you had asked for help, he would’ve agreed in a heartbeat, regardless of appearances. And all the while, you both became scrupulously careful about any physical contact—as though the sweet interlude on the evening of the spilled tea had become a line neither dared to cross, out of the knowledge that once you did, there would be no stopping until your secret, mutual longing found its ultimate satisfaction.

This particular evening, Stephen arrived late for your teatime, having only returned from a far-flung mission an hour before. Not even stopping to eat (reckoning you would be sure to provide a snack of sorts with the tea), he had quickly showered, fixed his hair, and trimmed his goatee, not wishing to come to you battle singed and reeking of his efforts. Not just to keep you from worrying for his sake, but mainly because he now aimed to always appear his best in your presence. It had been years since he’d cared about such a thing, for his long familiarity with Christine Palmer had eventually worn that caution away.

He found you pacing back and forth across the veranda, head bowed over your clasped hands as you murmured words too quiet for him to make out—so focused on running through the litany of spells you would be tested on in two days’ time, that when he spoke your name, you gave a little start.

“Hey…hey there, Y/N,” he coaxed softly, “Didn’t mean to startle you. What’s up?” 

You looked up at him, smiling faintly, though the low-grade panic in your eyes was enough to tell him what he needed to know. “Sorry,” you started, “I’m kind of distracted tonight. Maybe…maybe I should go…”

“Oh.” Stephen allowed his genuine disappointment to color his voice—quickly discerning the source of your distraction. Sure in the knowledge that he could—and as your friend, should--provide a diversion enough to calm your nerves.  “If you really need to, yeah, of course you should. But, uh…maybe stick around a little while first? I just need to unwind some…this last mission almost went south because of clashing egos among the Defenders, and I had to play tough guy referee.” He called upon his most pleading, puppy dog eyes, “I find comfort in your company, Y/N. I have from the start. A little bit of that would go a long way to helping me find my balance tonight. Know what I mean?”

You gave a little shrug and your smile grew soft and pleased and pretty. “Well, how can I refuse to give the Sorcerer Supreme my assistance if it’s in my power?” When you took to your accustomed seat and began to pour out, Stephen followed suit, accepting the cup you offered, along with your query, “So…would you like to talk about it?”

He took a sip, humming appreciatively at the perfect balance of tea and honey you’d provided. “For now, not so much. Maybe you could just distract me. Fill me in on what you’ve been doing the past few days—how your prep for testing is going. And if there’s any good gossip going ‘round,” he chuckled, flashing you a wink, “I’d like a thorough update.”

Bright humor filled your eyes, and with it an understanding that his request was meant to relax you when you were in need of exactly that. You leaned a bit closer to him as you set down your cup—and Stephen had to restrain the urge to mirror you. To lean in the rest of the way and cradle your beckoning cheek and finally, finally taste your lips, after the countless fantasies of doing so, every time you got close to him now. He knew the time was coming soon when his resolve would fail, and he could only pray that when it did, you would welcome it as the sweet, long-awaited trespass that fate had ordained could no longer be denied.

“Well, it just so happens there’s been some drama behind the scenes in the kitchen,” you began in a playful tone, “An impromptu competition—no one knows how it started—each of the past three days, we’ve been given multiple versions of the same dish and asked to rate them best to worst.” Stephen huffed in amusement, and you grinned, “Yeah, it’s so…un-Kamar-Taj-y, right? It’s almost like they’re competing for a spot on the Food Network or something…”

The warmth of the cup in his hands was but a pale imitation of the wonderful, familiar warmth filling his heart just watching your dear little mannerisms as you supplied the ongoing details of the cooks’ battle royale for kitchen supremacy. Without missing a beat, you picked up a napkin covered plate and pulled back the cloth, revealing a fresh batch of sel roti, offering him first choice. As one of his favorite kinds of sweet bread, Stephen took two, knowing he’d be going back for more shortly. Without having to ask, he already knew that you’d made them yourself; they were rarely on the dining hall menu, and with the cooks in some sort of heated competition, he was sure none would have taken the time for the deep fried dish. He hadn’t failed to see that lately, you made sure that only his favorite snacks accompanied the nightly teas.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he told you when he reached for a third treat, “I’d rate these as best, if you were part of the kitchen rivalry.”

You parted your lips as though to reply, but then merely nodded; the blush rising in your cheeks was enough to show you valued the complement. Enough to make him wish to find a way to see to your needs, as it seemed you did so effortlessly for him. Halfway through his second cup of tea, Stephen lit on an idea.

Trying to sound as casual as possible, he introduced the topic that you’d been tip toeing around. “It’s two more days,” he asked softly, observing your reaction carefully.

“Yes,” you sighed, casting your eyes on your lap, “I’m just about as ready as I can be.” When you braved looking up, he could see the stubborn doubts that still lingered, coloring your lovely features with anxiety. “I suppose all I can do know is trust that I have this…right?”

“Honey, you do,” he insisted immediately, “You just have to relax and believe.”

“I wish I could…”

Stephen nodded, ready to wager you’d accept his proposition. “If you’d allow me, I can help with that…” You had opened your mouth as if to object, but he waved you off. “This is nothing I’d do as Sorcerer Supreme or even as a Master of the Mystic Arts. It’s an offering of friendship—in much the same way that you make sure I’ve got a delicious snack to go with my cup, which you keep ever filled.” And the way warm thoughts of you usher me to sleep each night and greet me every morning I awake. “It’s a simple thing, really—but if you accept, I’m betting it can help you face your tests more calmly and centered than you’re expecting to be…”

(to be continued)

part one - 'of secret longing and hidden grief'

part two - 'of spilled tea and more than sympathy'

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#my writing #'greeting the sunrise' #No Defense for the Heart #Defender Strange #defender strange x female reader #defender strange x y/n #pining #mutual pining #doctor strange fan fiction #doctor strange fanfiction #stephen strange fan fiction #stephen strange fanfiction #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #defender strange #doctor strange #stephen strange #doctor strange x female reader #doctor strange x y/n #stephen strange x female reader #stephen strange x y/n #Strangebatch #My Eternal Muse

[kyunsies]

GOT7!

GOT7 FOREVER BBY <3

#asks #http-ara #yue ☕️ #this is how we greet each other now yue !!! lskfjsd <3 #i know it's like impossibe but .... do u have a fav song? also how AMAZING was nanana mv ;_____; #also also i just have to say nanana sounds like come on and two gives me major sunrise vibes but wht do u THINK :D

[1introvertedsage]

Good morning Love

#Sun #sunrise #good morning #1.11 pic #connection #my pics #lha #1introvertedsage #healing #intsa original #Sun pictures #sunrise pics #greetings #Sun Love #art #artists on tumblr

[t0wa]

name THOMAS in "religious wallapaper or background style"

#religious art #angelic #blue angel #sunrise #clouds #sky #name thomas #greeting cards #Thomas

[chechula]

Here we go again, greetings from Middle-earth: White horses at the ford and Rivendell just before sunrise, Eärendil shining bright, over the Hall of fire *_*

#tolkien #rivendell #homely house #Eärendil

[navybrat817]

I wish I had a smitten Bucky. Just sees me and wants me. 🥺

I know the feeling, nonnie.

Check Yes or No

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky instantly falls for you, but waits to ask you out.

Word Count: Over 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff, could be seen as instalove on Bucky's side, attraction, slight insecurities, minor time jump, Alpine being the best, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky your way, lovelies, so I hope you enjoy this short, surprise fic! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't looking for love the day he met you, but it found him anyway.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted from his seat when he walked into the conference rooms and nodded to the spot beside him that you occupied. “I’d like you to meet our newest transfer. She’s also moving into the Tower.”

He was a changed man the moment your eyes met. Breathtaking was a word to describe you given how he had forgotten to breathe. He had witnessed many sunrises and sunsets in his life, a kaleidoscope of colors painted in the sky to both soothe and awaken the soul. They paled in comparison to the beauty before him.

One glance and he belonged to you completely.

“Hi, Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”

While he wasn't sure if Heaven existed, you speaking his name was like hearing the voice of an angel.

“I’m Bucky.”

Of all the things he could've said, reiterating his name was what his mouth went with.

Instead of giving him a weird look or brushing him off when he scowled at himself, you smiled. “I look forward to us working together.”

Bucky couldn't tell you what the meeting was about that day, but he remembered the details about you. The way you leaned forward in your seat to pay extra attention when someone else spoke, also giving him an ample view of your chest before he reminded himself not to stare. The slight crease in your forehead when you jotted down an important note. And the soft giggle you let out when Steve cracked a joke.

He suddenly wished he was funnier.

“Have a good rest of the day, Bucky,” you said when the meeting ended.

Bucky didn't have to try to smile with you. It just came naturally. When you smiled back, it was easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his girl.

“You, too,” he replied, giving himself a mental victory for not screwing up his words this time. “Wait!”

You paused and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”

Bucky realized he had no reason to keep you from leaving. He just didn't want you to go. “Do you need help moving your stuff in?”

“I actually got my things moved in late last night, but thanks for the offer,” you replied, checking the time with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry. I have to go. I’m in 2L if you need anything!”

“Bye,” he called after you, turning in his chair to watch you go.

How did he miss you already?

Though Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, he graciously kept his mouth shut as he left the room. He reminded him an hour later that he wouldn't break any bylaws by asking you out. The punk somehow knew that you weren't seeing anyone.

Which made him happy.

While he appreciated Steve looking out for happiness, he still had to get his head on straight.

“Once I completely trust my own mind, maybe I will,” Bucky said, even though the stuff was already out of his head. He owed it to himself to take his time. And you.

Imagine his surprise when he found a note from you on his door the next day.

Hey, Bucky! Lunch on me today? Check YES or NO.

The lopsided grin on his face wouldn't go away when he read it again. You must've been interested in him enough to ask about him. How else did you know his apartment number? Why else would you ask him to lunch?

He nearly shouted “YES” in the hall before he came to his senses and simply checked the option before he returned the note to your apartment door.

When he met up with you later, he told himself it wasn't a date. It couldn't be, right? It didn't keep his heart from stopping when you answered your door. Dressed down and casual, you looked like an angel went to Earth just for him.

“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled. “Ready to go?”

He hadn't said much on the way to the cafe since he was too busy hanging on to your every word, but it was like he had known you for ages as you carried on the conversation. Your questions weren't invasive and you didn't seem to mind the occasional short answers. It was also the shortest meal of his life, over too soon for his liking, and he also refused to let you pay for his meal.

He wanted to show you that gentlemen still existed.

“Lunch again next week?” You offered.

“Sure,” he answered, his head spinning from giddiness.

But it wasn't a date.

It was time to change that.

Today was the day. Six months from the day he met you. Six months of chatting with you between missions and slowly getting to know you over weekly lunches. Six months of falling for you more and more each day and he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.

But falling was the easy part. Confessing was an entirely different story. He would either crash to the ground and hope his wounds would later heal or you’d catch him as he fell. No matter what, he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Just like we practiced, okay?” Bucky asked.

“Meow.”

Alpine nuzzled her head against Bucky’s with a gentle purr when he huffed. She was his little partner-in-crime through and through. Like you, even though you didn't realize it, the little white ball of fur helped save him. He was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to bring her to this floor, but any reprimand would be worth it.

Besides, the Tower, office, anywhere they operated should allow them to have their pets with them, especially for emotional support.

“I'm counting on you,” he teased, placing the folded up piece of paper in her mouth. “Go.”

He peeked around the corner when he set Alpine down. The sun illuminated you from where you sat in the lounge, curled up in your normal spot on the sofa. You liked to relax there occasionally to read. He wondered what book you had with you today.

Thankfully, no one was around to disturb you.

Except for him.

“Alpine, is that you?” You asked when you looked up, closing the book as the cat approached you. While the feline was cautious of some, she warmed up to you immediately when you met and solidified that you were the one for him. “Whatcha got there? Where’s Bucky?”

His name spilling from your lips was still one of his favorite sounds.

He held his breath when Alpine jumped up beside you, opened her mouth, and dropped the paper in your lap. He immediately began to second guess himself when you unfolded it with a furrowed brow. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn't he just ask you like a normal guy?

To be fair, he hadn't been normal for some time.

“Will you go out with me? Check YES or NO. Love, Bucky,” you read out loud with a huge smile, which was enough to make his heart race. You giggled a moment later when Alpine bumped your hand, the soft noise making his stomach do a funny sort of flip. “Okay, okay. Let me get my pen out of my bag.”

Bucky exhaled a little as he moved to stand in the doorway. You didn't toss the paper away, so that had to be a good sign. He carefully kept himself from showing any outward emotion when you met his gaze, but his knees nearly gave out. His palms also began to sweat when you gave him a half smile.

Just when he thought you couldn't look more beautiful than you had the day before, you proved him wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he looked halfway decent since he hadn't brushed it. But you commented a few weeks back that you liked it long when you saw an old photo, so he wanted to grow it out. He lost count of how many times he imagined your fingers in his hair

Maybe one day.

Watching you grab your pen, it was like he was drowning. The tide pulled him under as you made a mark on the sheet. His lungs burned when you handed it back to Alpine. He couldn't come up for air. He couldn't breathe.

Until you smiled again.

“Thanks, Alpine,” you said.

His cat gracefully walked back to Bucky and he swore he caught you trying not to giggle as she climbed up his leg. His heart hammered in his chest when he took the slip of paper from her mouth. Meeting your tender gaze, he couldn't bring himself to open it though.

After he told himself he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Not going to see what my answer is?” You asked as he carried Alpine into the lounge.

“I want to,” he replied, sighing as he took a seat beside you. His cat was perfectly content to lay in his lap. “But I’m questioning if I did this the right way.”

The note you gave him for a simple lunch request may have been a small gesture in your eyes, but it meant the world to him. He thought by asking you out this way that he could give you something meaningful in return. Something that only the two of you shared.

That was all he wanted.

You turned toward him, your knee touching his. The small touch sent heat down his spine. “Open it and you’ll find out.”

He nodded, thankful that his vibranium hand didn't shake as he lifted the sheet. “Wait, let me say something before I do.”

The corner of your lip tugged as you tried not to smile. “Bucky-”

“I like you. I really like you. I have since the day we met. And I'm going to like you tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that,” he admitted in a rush, catching your sharp inhale as he looked into your eyes. “But I know my past isn't easy to deal with. If you just want to be a teammate or colleague, that’s okay. Just. Being a part of your life in some way is more than enough.”

Alpine lifted her head and looked between the two of you, as if she was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.

Bucky felt a crack in his heart when you didn't speak or react, his body slumping slightly into the couch. It was okay. He took a chance and told you how he felt. He wouldn't force you to reciprocate.

“Bucky?” You asked above a whisper, reaching over to help him unfold the paper. He gasped when he saw the checkmark beside “YES”, blinking rapidly to make sure you picked that box. “I really like you, too.”

“You do?” He exhaled, grasping your hand with renewed joy. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Yeah. Pretty much since the day I met you,” you admitted, glancing in your lap before you met his gaze again. He saw stars in your eyes. “And your past isn't your fault, Bucky. You aren't something to ‘deal with’, okay? You’re a good man. I can give you a whole list of reasons if you need it.”

Physically, Bucky’s body was in peak condition. Your confession, however, caused all of the air to leave his lungs and made him weak in the best possible way. A familiar warmth moved through Bucky’s veins as he breathed again and it dawned on him at that moment that he hadn't felt cold since you walked into his life.

Not once.

Your faith in him gave him strength. Your mere existence gave him the courage to try. And he didn't have to go it alone.

“Wow,” he breathed, relieved and elated as he gave you a small smile. “How about tomorrow night?”

“It’s a date,” you smiled.

“Great,” he smiled back. A date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Steve's face when he told him that he finally asked you out.

“And I think the note was purrfect,” you teased at Alpine before you scrunched up your face. “I ruined the moment, didn't I?”

Bucky brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it as gently as he possibly could. He could hear your heart race. So was his. “Not at all.”

He knew it was too soon to say he loved you and it was likely too soon for you to feel that way about him, but he felt hope in your smile that you would one day.

For now, he had a date to plan all because you checked “yes”.

We know it'll be the best date ever, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fluff