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nickfowlerrr · 8 months

Text

always.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: angst (with a happy ending bc duh, it’s me). fluff. uh i think that’s all but if something important needs to be mentioned here, pls lmk!

words: 3.5k

notes: REPOST. this was not at all what i intended to write when i first got my aesthetic photo inspo but here we are lol. this is my fic submission for @pupandkisasaesthetics’ challenge and i hope you enjoy it. and a special thank you to @fandoms-writings for reading over the first draft of this for me and helping me out! i appreciate you so much, remi!! 🥰

thank you in advance for reading and as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated! please let me know what you think. 🖤

The floorboards creak under your feet with every step you take. Your eyes are red and your cheeks puffy. You ran out of tears a while ago. Your head throbs still, the headache lingering from the stress, and as you catch a glance of yourself in the mirror hung on the wall of the safe house, you know you look as dead as you feel.

You’re numb and yet your insides are aching, screaming at you.

That wasn’t it. He isn’t gone. It isn’t over.

It can’t be over.

As you pace the empty living room, back and forth, nonstop as you had been since you got back to the safehouse hours ago, the only thing you can do is torture yourself by replaying in your mind each and every step you took and every single word that left your mouth leading up to the explosion.

The explosion.

The deafening boom.

The ringing in your ears.

The shaking of the ground beneath you and of the walls around you.

The gripping fear when you realized where the bomb emanated from.

The neverending silence over static as you tried uselessly to get through to him.

The strong grip on your arm that pulled you from your stupor, that same strong hold that kept you from heading straight to where he was.

Your throat was sore from your yelling. From the cries you couldn’t hold back as you found yourself being urged into the jeep as they started back to safety. Just leaving him.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the window as you raged.

But you couldn’t focus on the cruelty of the words you threw at the team, your supposed family, in your attempt to get them to stop. To do their jobs. To save him.

No.

Instead, the loop started right back over.

Walking into the base with Yelena at your side, Bucky in your ear with Sam on his six on the opposite end of the site.

It wasn’t meant to be dangerous. Not more than the usual. Just a simple search and clear of the abandoned base. You’d all done this a hundred times over.

You’d meet in the middle and give the go ahead when you were done.

But that didn’t happen.

You were smirking as you heard Bucky and Sam’s never ending back and forths over the comms as you and Yelena cleared out the east wing of the site.

“East wing clear, heading south. You two plan on doing your job or should we take out the west wing for you, too?” you joked lightly as you made your way down the long winding hall.

“Ya know I’d feel a lot better having you on my six than this stupid fucking robotic bird flying around my head,” Bucky groused.

“Yeah,” you laughed as your eyes scanned yet another empty old computer room, “well give me a minute and I’ll be right there to save you,” you simpered playfully.

“West wing clear and secured, heading south now. Think I’ll get to you first, but I-”

His voice was cut off simultaneously by the static and the boom of the unexpected explosion going off. You and Yelena both ducked, protecting your heads as the ground shook and a wave of vibrations from the blast moved around you. You popped your ear as you tried to orient yourself through the ringing, slowly standing after everything else went still. Your breaths heavy as confusion clouded you both. You checked each other, ensuring you were both alright before your heart skipped a beat. Yelena was talking on her comms with Steve as you were pressing on your own, you tried to communicate with Bucky despite the static still ringing over..

“Buck, you okay?”

Nothing.

“Bucky?” you asked again, growing more frantic internally though you tried to remain as collected as you could.

Still no response.

Your eyes shot to the hall across from you leading to the west wing. To where the explosion came from. To Bucky. You were frozen still.

You pressed on the comms, over and over, trying desperately to get through to him.

“Bucky?”

Silence.

“Buck, can you hear me?... Bucky? James?!” your voice only grew louder and more harsh the longer the silence stretched on. It was like you were stone, you couldn’t manage to move, couldn’t do anything other than try to call him. You hadn’t noticed when Steve and the others came in until Steve took hold of your arm, his touch pulling you from your spot.

You looked to him, eyes wide and blown, feeling like you’d just been kicked back into your physical body.

“What are we doing?” you asked harshly. “What am I doing?” you said, frenzied before you turned and tried to make a move down the hall no one else seemed to be heading toward. His hold on you tightened, keeping you from going, stopping you easily.

“You need to go, we have to get you guys out of here,” Steve said sternly, concern swimming in his gaze despite his levelheaded presence.

“Are you- are you fucking kidding me?” you struggled in his hold. “Bucky is over there, what the fuck are we doing?! Let go of me! I know you have no problem leaving the people you claim to love to suffer and figure it out for themselves, but I can’t do that,” you seethed. “I’m not leaving him, get the fuck off, someone needs to go get him!

“And you and that stupid fucking camera, letting him go in by himself,” you turned on Sam, “where the fuck were you?”

You didn’t realize how much you were struggling to breathe as you fought against your friends to get past them, you didn’t realize how easily you were unraveling as you spiraled quicker and quicker the more time stretched on. It hadn’t been more than a minute or two but it felt like an eternity.

“He’s not answering, okay, he’s not answering so someone needs to go find him. We need to get him! Why are we just standing here! He could be hurt, or trapped, or - fuck!”

“I know. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving. But you are. You and you,” he eyed Yelena, “you two need to go. Bishop and Torres are at the first jeep - you guys need to clear the area. The less of us around to get hurt the better and there’s not much you can do.

But I promise you, I’m not leaving him. Okay? I swear,” Steve said as he stared into your welling eyes.

“You’re the last person I’d trust to keep a promise,” you bite harshly before being pulled away by Yelena. You didn’t fight her, though. A part of you knew Steve was right. There wasn’t much you could really do and the more people there were the more likely someone else would end up hurt, too.

Even still, when you got to the jeep, you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to make a break for the west end of the site. How could you possibly live with yourself if you didn’t even try to go in and help him?

Your attempt was futile, though, and soon you were sobbing into your hands as Joaquin drove you all back to the safe house.

As you stood there now, still pacing aimlessly, guilt washed over you. You could clearly recall the subtle recoil from Steve, the pain and regret in his eyes, at your words.

You knew he’d never forgiven himself for leaving Bucky, you knew a part of him could never, and you knew it was a low blow to bring up, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment. You wanted him to remember. You needed him to. Because he couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t just leave him there to.. No. He wasn’t.

That wasn’t even a possibility.

He couldn’t be.

He wasn’t.

You kept repeating it over and over again in your head as your eyes threatened to well anew.

He wasn’t.

He couldn’t be.

—

It was past midnight when you had finally taken a seat on the lumpy sofa.

Kate’s earlier attempts at getting you to sleep were useless and only ended with you growling at her to leave you alone.

She, of course, ignored your snarling and stayed on the couch, just watching you. Her sympathetic gaze was as irking as it was easing.

She didn’t really say much, knowing not to push you, but just her being there had you feeling less like you were drowning. She grounded you a bit.

But she couldn’t take the fear away.

You felt her shuffle closer to you when you finally sat down but didn’t turn until her arms were around you, pulling you in.

You let out a broken breath as you turned into her and returned her hug.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she murmured as she hugged you tighter. “He’s a supersoldier. And he has a vibranium arm. Odds are definitely in his favor,” she tried to lighten the mood.

When you didn’t respond, she pulled away slightly.

“Seriously,” she said as you pulled away from her, looking her in the eye, “we were watching surveillance while you guys were inside. Redwing, we think, set off whatever motion detector was set. He was a bit ahead of Bucky, so we know he wasn’t that close to the blast. The feed cut out, obviously, but.. I don’t know, I thought that’d maybe..help you.. feel better? I just-”

“No, I appreciate knowing that. Thank you. But honestly, I don’t think anything’s gonna help until I know for sure. Until he’s back here.”

The front door creeping open had both of you standing and turning at attention. You could almost feel your heart in your throat as your breathing stalled.

It was a perilous few seconds of nothing before Sam stepped inside.

He looked exhausted and worn and.. Solemn.

“Sam,” Kate edged gently.

There was a pit in your stomach as he looked between you and Kate for a moment before his gaze dropped and he shook his head.

A stunted gasp left Kate’s lips as your heart stuttered, eyes wide, your stomach dropping before the door was shoved open even more.

“Please, don’t get him started on that stupid bird again, for the love of god,” Bucky huffed as he walked in, trying to hide a slight limp before a smirk graced his face as he met your eye.

Everything seemed frozen in the moment you registered his voice and when your eyes met his you honestly thought for a second you were dreaming.

He was leaning against the open door, a relaxed smirk on his lips before he nodded to you, “What happened to you coming to save me, huh?”

You didn’t even register yourself moving until you crashed right into him, almost toppling Bucky over as you did. Your eyes were bleary with tears of relief as you sighed heavily, shakily in disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed as you crushed yourself to him even further, his solid arms holding you right back as you felt him press a kiss to your head.

“I was kidding, sweetheart. Don’t say you’re sorry,” he chided.

You pulled away from him, taking his face in your hands.

“You’re okay?” you asked.

“Always,” he answered, leaning closer to kiss you softly.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Steve challenged as he came in behind Bucky. “But give it a few days, I’m sure you’ll be good as new.”

You swallowed thickly as you looked at Steve, shame again coming over you, even more now as Bucky’s arms were around you.

You looked away, taking a steadying breath as you took Bucky’s hands in yours.

“You should sit,” you said as he let you lead him away from the door, allowing Steve to close it. “Or shower, maybe?”

“You gonna join me?” he asked, his flirtatious nature never faltering.

“Have some decorum, some of us are in mourning, jackass,” Sam gruffed as he walked through the living room.

“Oh, Sam,” you called, stopping him. You walked up to him, as sincerely as you could, “I’m sorry,” you offered gently before punching him as hard as you could manage in his arm.

“Hey, what the hell?” he said incredulously as he held his arm.

“You deserved that one,” Kate said as she came to stand next to him. “I really thought Bucky bit the big one for a second,” she chuckled, “I am sorry about Redwing, though.”

“Why are you sorry for a robotic bird, I’m the one who almost got blown up,” Bucky interjected.

“Almost being the operative word there. Redwing, on the other hand, did get blown up.”

“I’m not doing this with you again,” Bucky groused, walking past the living room to the bathroom on the other side of the stairs. “I am gonna shower, sweetheart. Would you grab my bag from upstairs?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll bring it to you in a minute.”

You watched Sam and Kate go upstairs but you were too caught up in your own mind to really pay attention to their conversation. You saw Steve about to make a move to follow them, looking tired and ragged himself.

You followed him, pulling his hand before he could make it up the steps.

“Hey,” you started. “Can we talk?”

He looked a little nervous, unsure, but nodded anyway.

“Sure,” he said, turning around to follow you.

You walked into the living room that was now empty before you turned to meet Steve’s eye.

“I am so sorry,” you apologized, voice thin as you tried to keep your emotions in check. “I don’t know why I- it doesn’t matter, you didn’t deserve that. It was uncalled for. And not true. And I am so, so sorry, Steve.”

“Tensions were high, it’s okay-”

“No, it’s not. It’s not okay. You’re his best friend, you would do anything for him. You love him. I know that, we all know that, and I never should have.. You did everything you could have,-”

“I didn’t—.”

“You did,” you insisted. “You did. And you and I both know he definitely wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you. You’ve put your life on the line for him countless times, and even if you do hold yourself accountable for the train - which you shouldn’t - your slate would’ve been wiped clean about six life saves ago,” you smiled lightly, earning a small smile from him in turn.

“He’d do the same for me. He has done the same for me,” he laughed softly. “‘M just glad he’s alright.”

“Yeah. Thank you. For getting him out. For being there for him. I went a little crazy when I thought he was hurt,” you looked down, ashamed at yourself.

“I can’t blame you. Been there before. But he’s okay. You’re okay. I’m okay. We’re all okay.”

You nodded, meeting his eye once more before you hugged him tightly, his own arms coming around you to return the affection.

“He’s more banged up than he’s letting on,” Steve said as he pulled away, “you should check on him. I’ll throw your bags down, you guys can take the room down here.”

“Thank you, Steve. Really,”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled before heading back for the stairs.

As you made your way to the bathroom Bucky was occupying, you heard a low grunt followed by a hiss of pain. Knocking lightly, you gave him a second before you let yourself in.

The deep purple bruises that littered his torso had you grimacing for him sympathetically.

“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart, you know they’ll be gone this time tomorrow.”

“That’s not the point,” you argued, stepping in further, shutting the door behind you.

You walked up to him, lightly running your hand down his torso while pouting mindlessly.

His thumb found your lip as he pulled it down, getting your attention. “I’m fine,” he assured you.

“You could’ve gotten really hurt, Bucky. You could’ve died.”

“But I didn’t. I’m right here. Right where I want to be,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

You let your head rest against his chest as he held you, your arms finding their way around him.

“I was so scared,” you whispered pathetically, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt that kind of fear before. I hated it.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured into your hair. You shook your head, brushing off his needless apology before you took a heavy breath.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” you confessed.

“You’re not ever gonna lose me, sweetheart. I’ll always find my way back to you,” he said softly, still holding you against him, “Always.”

A part of you wanted to argue the inevitable. One day, hopefully not one so soon, one of you would lose the other. That was life, wasn’t it?

But you couldn’t bring yourself to challenge him. It was nicer to believe that he was right. He’d always find his way back to you, and you would always find your way back to him.

Always.

You reached your hands up to gently rake your fingers through his hair. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Never been better,” he simpered easily, enjoying the feeling of your affectionate touch.

You dropped your hands to his shoulders before sliding them down his solid chest, your fingers soothing comfortingly along his skin.

“The truth?” you prodded quietly, flitting your gaze up to meet his brilliant blue eyes in a request for his honesty.

He was quiet for a second before he took a heavy breath, his hands finding and holding yours before he lifted one to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your hand. “The truth is, I’m gonna be okay,” he responded in earnest.

You allow your hand to cradle his stubbled cheek as you keep his loving gaze, finding comfort in the warmth of his eyes.

“Should we talk about it?” you ask, a little hesitant to bring it up, not wanting to let show how unnerved you were still feeling. And it wasn’t that you didn’t trust him when he said he was alright, but still you wanted to know exactly what happened, you wanted to know what he was going through back there. And selfishly, you knew you needed to know everything before you’d start feeling any kind of alright, either.

Bucky’s gaze softened even more at your question. Sam and Steve had told him you were worried, but he hadn’t realized how upset you really were while they were back there. Aside from being banged up by the blast and being trapped in the hallway he’d been in for a good while while Sam and Steve worked to get through the wreckage of the site to get him out, he really was okay. Especially when he knew you and everyone else were safe.

He didn’t feel the need to talk about it, but just from the look in your eyes he knew you did. So he didn’t have to think much at all before he answered.

“Yeah, we should talk about it,” he said, his hand on yours as you caressed his cheek. “Shower first?” he prompted, pulling you from your ever anxious thoughts.

You nodded, “Good idea.”

You turned to leave the slowly steaming bathroom as the shower continued to warm, but were stopped by Bucky the moment he realized you were going for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m gonna grab your bag,” you laughed lightly, but not pulling away from his hold.

“You’re coming right back?” he questioned. “I was away from you for more than long enough already tonight, you can’t be gone too long.”

“I’ll be right back,” you tittered, a lightness returning to you the longer you were around him.

“You better be. If you take anything away from tonight, it should be that you’re not gonna get rid of me that easily, doll,” he smirked playfully as he let you go.

“I wouldn’t dream of even trying,” you said before leaning back in to kiss him softly. “You know I love you, Bucky, right? More than anyone, or anything, ever. You know that?”

“I do. But I don’t mind the reminder,” he smiled into another gentle kiss. “You know I love you more?”

You kissed him deeper at that, not realizing how much desperation was fueling you until you finally pulled away, leaving both of you a little breathless.

Your eyes were pinched shut as you tried to keep hold of yourself, pressing in close to Bucky once more.

“You can’t ever leave me. You can’t,” you whispered desperately.

Bucky’s light grip on your chin had you looking up at him, bleary eyes and a soft pout on your lips as you met his intent gaze.

“Look at me, sweetheart. I wouldn’t ever dream of it. I’ll always get back to you. I promise. Always.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x curvy!reader #third times the charm? pls 😭

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rookthorne · 11 months

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐝

Time was irrelevant when it came to Bucky — he was gravity, and you were helplessly pulled to him like a moth to a flame. When it finally came time to collect your car from his garage, you walked away with much more than just your keys.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✯ Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✯ 3.2k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✯ Fluff, extreme spicy tension, there are special additions and appearances

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✯ I couldn't leave him alone, and he's such a smug bastard.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ✯ Ride on Josephine by George Thorogood & The Destroyers

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ✯ @smutconnoisseur

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It was funny how fate worked. Yesterday, you were cursing to the high heavens that your bucket-of-bolts car wouldn’t survive the drive home. This morning, you were counting your blessings for the fact that your car chose that moment to come to a stop outside of Barnes Classics Restoration.

All night – you had stayed up almost all damn night on the phone with the broody, muscled, tattooed mechanic that had stolen your breath away. It started with texts – innocent enough, but then Bucky drove home and called you. You hesitated briefly before you recklessly swiped to answer his call, then… Well, it was all downhill from there.

For hours you got to know him, and he got to know you – his attention was addictive, not to mention the way his voice lowered every time he’d congratulate you on an achievement or how happy Bucky sounded when he talked about his career and fame in the collector’s industry.

“I best be gettin’ some shut eye, doll–need to be up bright and early to finish up your car before I come ‘n get you,” Bucky said, voice raspy from hours of talking, and it was two in the morning. “You sleep well, sweetheart. I’ll see you-” A pause; you suspected he was checking the time, “Well, I’ll see you in a few hours.” The breathy chuckle that left his lips and echoed in the speaker made your heart flutter.

You would do anything to hear it again.

“Sleep well, handsome,” you whispered, stifling a yawn. “I’ll see you bright and early in the morning.”

“Night, doll.”

The line clicked, and you sighed heavily, willing the pounding of your heart to calm. No good would come of falling too quickly, you knew this, but dammit all; you couldn’t help but feel attached to Bucky’s charm and swagger.

All too soon, the sun rose, and you with it. Excitement made you feel like you were vibrating out of your skin, the single good morning text from ‘Handsome’ saying a simple: “I’m on my way, sweetheart,” set the butterflies in your stomach aflame. You dressed nicely, casually – but nice, a flattering outfit and one of your favourites.

With your house tidied after breakfast, you moved to the couch, your knee bouncing in anticipation to hear the rumbling engine of Bucky’s car down the street – when you heard something. It wasn’t the Mustang you had fawned over yesterday, but it was similar. It cut out before you could ponder it further, and you heard footsteps up the path to your front door, then two solid knocks against the wood.

“Hey, doll, it’s me!” Bucky called, muffled by the barrier. Your stomach swooped, and you rushed to the door, pausing briefly to adjust your shirt. Deep breath, you intoned, filling your tightening lungs and exhaling.

The door flew open, and low and behold, Bucky stood on your doorstep – hair loose and falling to his shoulders, a black Henley with rolled up sleeves to show off the artistry gracing his forearms and hands, and the kind of jeans that made you praise the heavens for thighs like his. “Hey,” you managed, not in a squeak if you did say so yourself.

“Hey back,” Bucky smirked, allowing a glance up and down your figure. “You look beautiful.”

“This?” You glanced down at your casual fit, the compliment making the disconnect between your brain and mouth all the more obvious. “Um, t-thanks.”

“C’mon,” Bucky said, offering his elbow and tilting his head. “Your chariot awaits.”

Careful to lock the door behind you, you made your way arm in arm with Bucky down the steps and down the footpath when you finally tore your eyes from him to look at the Mustang in all her glory – only, it wasn’t the Mustang.

“What the-”

Bucky chuckled and gestured to the black as night Dodge Challenger parked at the curb. “This is my other baby,” he said, grinning like a fool. “I decided it was time you met her, and since you had such an adorable reaction to my Mustang–” You stood there, gaping like a fish out of water at the power before you, and like with the Mustang, you came to a halt and planted your feet, glancing between him and the Challenger. “Oh my god, you’re so fuckin’ cute, doll,” he purred.

“Cute?” You squeaked, what you wouldn’t give for the ground to swallow you whole – both your being and the cacophony of butterflies in your stomach at being called cute.

“Yeah, y’are, sweetheart.” Slowly, you took a few steps closer to him, and he threw an arm over your shoulder, pulling you close and taking the opportunity to say against the crown of your head, “So fuckin’ adorable, baby.”

“Oh, my god,” you muttered. You knew there was a pull to him the moment he smiled at you the day before, but hearing all this from his lips now? It took all of your restraint to not fall to the floor in a swoon – that would only inflate his ego, you thought.

A chirp sounded from the Challenger, and Bucky opened the door, urging you inside. “M’lady.”

“Such a charmer,” you said before the door closed, and you watched as Bucky laughed and strode to the driver’s side, slipping inside in one fluid moment.

Once Bucky was settled in his seat and had the shifter in hand, he turned to you with a brow raised, a quirk in his lips that widened to be predatory. “I live to please.” The air in the car was sucked out with the statement, and you floundered, scrambling for a retort, but Bucky beat you. “Now, hold on.” The car rumbled to life with a roar, and you gripped the door handle and glovebox like a lifeline.

While not entirely unexpected, the drive to Bucky’s garage was filled with a lot of tire smoke and Bucky laughing at your iron grip on whatever you could scramble to grab hold of.

“That was too much, Bucky!” You gasped, swinging open the door and heaving for breath. “Too much, holy shit.”

“Nah, you can take it, doll,” Bucky replied, materialising out of nowhere next to you and offering his hand to help you out of the car – such a gentleman, even after scaring me half to death, you shrewdly thought. “C’mon, come inside, and you can meet the gang of idiots I have workin’ for me.”

Solid ground under your feet steadied the wave of adrenaline from Bucky’s antics. You followed close behind him as he walked – strutted into his garage office, only there was a red-headed woman with a wicked smile and watchful eyes perched in his chair.

She surveyed you, a critical gaze that morphed into a smirk of mischief before she glanced at Bucky. “What’s got you in so early, Barnes?” The chair creaked as she sat up, raising a brow. “And no coffee?”

“Get your own, Nat,” Bucky scoffed. He paused and looked between you and Nat. She looked expectant, with a quirk to her lips that only grew. “Doll, this is Nat–she’s the one that pulls these fools into line when I’m not here.”

You offered your name shyly, and she grinned at you, rising from the chair to reveal grease stained jeans and combat boots. “Nice to meet you. It’s not often Buck here is in at this hour–maybe you’re changing him for the better, huh?”

“I don’t-”

“Fuck off, Nat,” Bucky cut in, rolling his eyes. You glanced at him, but he refused to meet your gaze, and you swore he was fighting the urge to hide behind his curtain of hair. “Get back to work.”

Nat just winked and walked into the garage, her flaming hair bright amongst the colours of parked cars.

“So,” Bucky said, clearing his throat. “That’s Nat.” The quiet chuckle left your lips before you could stop it, and Bucky moved towards the desk to place his keys down. “D’you wanna meet the other idiots?”

“Why not,” you replied, grinning. “I like Nat; she’s feisty.”

“Not you, too,” Bucky groaned, staring at you with an exasperated frown. “I get enough shit from her as it is, do not join her side–you’re meant to be on my side.”

“Oh, there are sides?” Bucky only narrowed his eyes, suspicion plain as day on his rugged features. “Alright, I yield,” you rushed placatingly. “I’m on your side, Handsome, okay?”

Bucky stepped closer, and you suppressed the urge to shudder or move out of his shadow and away from that piercing gaze. “That’s my girl, now c’mon.”

The garage was bustling with activity as Bucky led you through the door. Quiet indistinct conversations could be heard over the lull of music from the overhead speakers, as well as the whirring of power tools and the sounds of metal on metal. It was strangely comforting, a hive of activity where things were working like a well oiled machine – which, you supposed, was natural.

“Steve,” Bucky called, and you watched a mess of blond hair peer around a popped bonnet – immediately, you recognised him as the blond you first saw yesterday. “Come meet our new client.”

“Ah, the sweetheart that had you showing off yesterday,” Steve replied, wiping his hands on a rag and walking over. “Good to meet you, honey.” His smile was soft, and his eyes flashed with the same mischief as Nat’s. “You can call me Stevie, and Buck here has had me slaving away over your car-”

“Rogers,” Bucky snapped, shoving at his shoulder, and Steve laughed. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I thought you were working on my car?” You piped up, raising a brow at Bucky, who in turn frowned at Steve.

“I asked this punk for one damn minute of help, and he suddenly thinks he’s God’s gift to me.” You stared between the two men squaring their shoulders, an unspoken threat to whoop one another’s asses, playfully, you hoped.

Steve started to walk backwards towards the front of the car he was working on, a smirk on his lips as he pulled the rag from his belt. “But I thought I was.”

“Smug bastard,” Bucky muttered, loud enough so only you would hear, and you laughed. “Alright, enough of that.” You followed Bucky as he walked to another area of the garage, another bay where another classic car was parked, the bonnet up, and a pair of boots visible from the undercarriage. “Carter, get your ass up.”

“Gimme a minute, Buck,” Carter called, his voice muffled by the car. “Just gotta, damn-” A clink of metal on concrete made Bucky sigh. “Shuddup,” Carter said.

You were distracted by Bucky crossing his arms over his chest, the tattoos on his arms bright under the downlights hanging from the ceiling, and the muscles of his biceps flexed as he fidgeted. There were smaller tattoos amidst the bigger designs – scripture and patterns that entranced you, and you tampered down the urge to trace them with a finger, only just. “See somethin’ you like, sweetheart?”

Startled, you looked up from his arms to his face. A smug smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, and he raised a brow.

“Sorry,” you blurted, hastily looking down at your feet, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. “I-”

“I don’t mind,” Bucky said, pulling your attention to his face again, that smirk forming into a grin, and he winked. “Just don’t let those thoughts get to your head, doll. I wouldn’t want to have to bring you back down to earth again–at least,” Bucky had moved closer, close enough to whisper against your ear under the guise of looking at the tools scattered on the tray next to you. “Not here.”

“Oh,” you breathed before you thought better of it, and you clamped your mouth shut with a loud click.

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. The boots that belonged to Carter finally moved, and a man, uncannily similar to Bucky, appeared on a wheelie board before he rose to his feet with a groan. “Almost finished with this one,” he said, looking at Bucky, who nodded before Carter turned to look at you. He was handsome, with a charming smile and bright eyes. “Now, who’s this pretty darlin’?”

You didn’t miss the way Bucky stiffened next to you, his smile becoming forced, and neither did Carter – his eyes drifted to Bucky, and he raised a brow and his hands in teasing placation. “This is our new client, Hal,” Bucky said, his tone only slightly clipped as he said your name. “She’s here to pick up her car.”

“Ah, so you’re the-”

“Yeah, she’s the one I was showing off for,” Bucky cut in, and Hal chuckled. “I already heard that from Stevie. Now,” Bucky paused, narrowing his eyes at the engine bay. “Get that pigsty cleaned up.”

“Buck- C’mon, I was playin’!” Hal huffed, deflating under Bucky’s stare. “Alright, alright, easy, tiger.” Hal looked at you and smiled, his eyes softening. “Good to meet you, sugar. I’m sure we’ll see each other more if Buck is this damn protective-”

Bucky uncrossed his arms and advanced, but Hal danced out of his reach with a cackle, his southern twang making it sound like a whoop.

“What is it with these idiots,” Bucky said as he rested a hand on your lower back to guide you away from a laughing Hal. “I swear-”

“They’re amazing,” you interrupted, laughing at Bucky’s incredulous stare. “They’re making me realise that you’re not all that ‘big tough guy’, and that you’re just a big softie!”

“I am not-” Bucky huffed. His lip suddenly curled in another predatory smirk, and you gulped as Bucky slowed his pace and leant down, his breath hot on your ear. “I can be big and hard, y’know, just for you, sweetheart.”

“Bucky!”

His laughter rang around the garage, and his shoulders shook as you stared at him, shock and astonishment switching your brain into betraying you by helping you picture exactly what he inferred. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” Bucky chuckled, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

You followed numbly as he directed you toward a group of men, all of who were hovering at a rack of tools as they talked.

“Fellas,” Bucky called, and all three of them looked over, eyes moving from Bucky to you. You smiled as Bucky introduced you to them, offering your name while your mind still reeled from that damned comment that left your stomach in your throat. “This is Chris,” Bucky said, pointing at a man dressed in a denim jacket, his hair buzzed short and a goatee. “He’s broodier than me, and that’s sayin’ something.” Chris glared at Bucky but softened his gaze as he looked at you.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Chris said, backing away and turning with a salute.

“Don’t mind him,” Bucky continued. “And this is Ari,” he said, gesturing to a giant of a man with blond hair – just like Steve’s and a kind smile.

“Hey there, honey,” Ari winked. “Buck here hasn’t shut up about you.”

“Goddammit,” Bucky groaned. “What is with you guys? I have one girl I show off to, and here the lot of you are-”

“Easy, boss,” Ari laughed. “Just telling her what you’re too afraid to admit, bein’ big and tough, an’ all.” He flipped a wrench in his hand and sauntered off, grinning like the cat that caught the mouse.

“Don’t listen to them, boss,” the final man said. He looked young – bright and bouncing on the balls of his feet with energy. “I’m Peter,” he offered, smiling widely. “I’m the apprentice.”

“Yeah, and the only one that has the sense not to be a shithead,” Bucky cut in, rubbing his face. “I still have the sway to intimidate you into behaving around finer company.”

“Good to meet you, Peter,” you smiled, shaking his hand. He didn’t hang around long before he rushed off after Ari. The moment of peace was a blessing, and you took the opportunity to look Bucky over – his cheeks were tinged pink, and he kept fidgeting, his hands unable to be still. “You okay, Handsome?”

Bucky looked at you and sighed, nodding. “I knew they were bastards, the lot of them, but damn them.”

You laughed and took his arm. “Take me to me hunk-a-junk, Buck,” you said, shaking it a little. “Then I can get out of your hair, and you can beat some sense into those rascals.”

“Bastards, you mean, doll,” Bucky sighed, grabbing your hand. “Alright, let’s see about your bucket o’ bolts.”

The office was empty when the two of you walked in, and Bucky gestured to a comfortable looking chair. “Sit down for me. I’ll get the paperwork and shit ready,” he said, smiling as you took it. “Good girl.”

“Why are you like this?” You whined, hiding your face in your hands.

“Like what, sweetheart?” Bucky hummed, rooting around in a filing cabinet before pulling out a sheet of paper with a flourish. He turned to look at you and leant against the desk, his body far too close to yours as he handed you the paperwork detailing the work done on your car. “Jus’ tryin’ to be sweet on you.”

Groaning with embarrassment, you glanced down the list, only to find no price written – not for parts, nor labour. “Buck, you missed-”

“I didn’t miss a thing, doll,” he mused, smiling softly down at you – the fondness in his eyes made your stomach flip.

“But I can’t accept this,” you rushed, pointing at the paperwork. “I can’t-”

Bucky shook his head once. “You’ll accept it because you’ll do as you’re told,” he said abruptly, and your mouth fell slack. He chuckled quietly and shook his head again. “Forgive me, sweetheart, I dunno about you, but I enjoy your company–probably more than I should. And- No, let me finish,” Bucky held up a hand to stop you from speaking. Disbelief was flooding you, drowning you the more he spoke. “I wanna explore whatever this is between us.”

“Bucky, oh my god,” you breathed. “Are you-” You gulped and cleared your throat. Dreaming – you had to be dreaming. “Are you asking me out?”

He just nodded, his gaze intense, unwavering. You fell back in your chair, staring at him with the sensibilities of a fish out of water. Silence echoed in the room, and you struggled to find words and articulate just how badly you wanted this.

Before you could speak, however, Bucky shifted, his mouth opening to speak, "I thought drinks woulda been a date, sweetheart, but…" He hummed, narrowing his eyes before they widened like a light bulb had gone off in his mind. "I know–be ready for me to take you out Friday night, 8 o'clock sharp."

"Bucky, I-"

"Nope," Bucky sang, the honeyed pull of his words too alluring to ignore. "Be ready at 8 o'clock sharp, sweetheart. Let a fella show a dame a good time."

After lingering for another few unplanned hours, you put the garage in your rear-view mirror when you realised what had just happened. Bucky had asked you out on a date, an actual date, and he was going to pick you up that Friday night, 8 o’clock sharp, with an order to dress comfortably.

There was no fathoming just what he had in store for you, and you found you didn’t mind that one bit – what was wrong with taking a leap of faith?