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#buckys little belle
buckys-little-belle · 4 months
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Chapter One - The Blue Crayon 
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SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW. 
Warnings - Reader cries, first meeting jitters, brief talks of Bucky’s ‘old life’, mainly fluff 
Word Count - 1,836
Note - Releasing this is really scary, and nerve wracking. I'm worried people will hate my new writing style, or won't enjoy the slight changes to the plot/pace/overall creation. Please know that this means a lot to me, and has really given me back a piece of me I thought I lost. Enjoy, and I hope you love this as much as I do <3
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★ Prologue ★ 
After years of feeling out of place no matter where he went, and feeling like he didn’t belong no matter what he did to fit in, Bucky took a trip to a Cafe he remembered from his old days in Brooklyn. 
The interior looked the same as it had decades ago, the soft blue and green diner furniture was in pristine shape. The metal of the counter looked slightly more scratched and worn, but the whole place had the same feel it did when he first walked in years ago. 
While most cafes offered the same types of coffee and treats, none of them were anything like Cafe BigNSmall. Instead of being on a busy street open to just anyone, it was hidden away from prying eyes on a calm street, and was catered towards Littles and Caregivers. 
It was founded before Bucky was even born, a group of people looking for a place to meet up comfortably, but also create a safe space for other Littles and Caregivers that might also be in need of a community. 
Bucky had stumbled his way into a conversation years ago about Littles and Caregivers, at first he didn’t understand what the conversation was about, but after asking a few questions and being given the address to the hardly known, yet also famous, cafe his whole idea around the topic changed. And after a few visits with his best friend by his side the two of them realised that the community they had accidentally found was one they fit perfectly into. 
Bucky half expected the well hidden cafe to be gone, or at least moved to a different location after all these years, but as he walked along the familiar sidewalk and stopped in front of the building he used to visit weekly, a warm feeling spread along his chest. The feeling of finally finding someplace he knew, and some place that knew him, was the best feeling he had felt in a while. 
Even the ding of the welcome bell was the same, the coffee just as good as he remembered it, and the crunch of the leather covered diner booth sounded just as he had remembered it. 
The feeling of sitting at a table alone though was new, his days spent here were always spent with Steve and other people they had met along the way. But now he sat in his favourite booth with a bag full of activities, and a heart in need of a purpose. He realised that even though the building had stayed the same, he hadn’t. 
Weeks went by as he watched groups of Littles and Caregivers sit around tables and talk, colour, and laugh. He understood why people avoided him, if they knew who he was they had reason to walk away, and even if they didn’t know him as ‘The Winter Soldier” he was still dressed head to toe in black, stood at times a foot above everyone else, and always had an easily read as angry expression plastered on his face. 
It had been a month before anyone talked to him, and although he wished that he could have felt included sooner, he was happy that Y/n was the first person he met, even if it took weeks of waiting. 
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The sun was shining brightly through the wall of windows, Bucky’s booth drowning in light, the small plant that sat with a basket full of sugar and cream was no doubt enjoying the nice weather. 
Bucky’s coat sat next to him, his phone buzzing from time to time though he ignored it. Instead of calling Steve back, or making sure Sam didn’t need something he surveyed the room, making sure all exits were secure, and danger wasn’t present. 
He, in a way, had given up the idea that he would meet a Little, or even a friend, but decided that in the absence of someone he would spend his time as - unwanted, and unneeded, as well as unofficial - security for those who spent their days here with friends. 
As his eyes drifted to make sure his car parked on a side street was still in tack he heard a small shuffle next to him, then a small voice spoke. “Um, Mr?” He turned his head to see a girl with tear marks down her face staring at him. Her green shirt’s sleeves covered in wiped tears, her overalls slightly off her one shoulder. 
Bucky just stared at her for a second, waiting for her to fizzle away and reveal herself as a dream, or run in fear when she saw his face, but she didn’t. “Hi.” He cleared his throat, trying his best to put on a neutral tone and facial expression. “What’s wrong?” He asked, shuffling in his seat slightly, his nerves evident. 
“My, um.” Her left hand covered in her sleeve came back up to her face, rubbing her eye before she continued. “My crayon broke.” The girls lower lip wobbled now, bringing up what must have happened clearly causing her distress. “The nice cash lady said you, you migh’ have some crayons?” Her voiced lowered to a whisper now. 
Bucky smiled, the warmth he felt when he first stepped inside a month ago finally coming back. His backpack was filled with Little friendly activities and supplies for this reason exactly. “I do.” He answered, unzipping his backpack and pulling out his carton of 96 crayons. “What colour do you need, Bub?” The nickname slipped out on accident, but the girl in front of him didn’t seem to notice, too awe struck by the box of crayons in front of him. 
She sniffled before answering. “I need blue.” She said with a little more confidence. “Hold on.” She whispered, jogging back to what Bucky assumed was her table. “This one, please.” She pulled out two halves of a blue crayon from her box. Her crayon box was smaller than Bucky’s, only a handful of crayons inside, unlike his though her’s had a small sticker on it that read “Y/n.” 
“Y/n?” He asked, the girl snapping her head to him, her eyes wide. Bucky tapped the sticker on her box, Y/n flipping it over and realising how he now knew her name. “There’s too many blue crayons in this box to know what one you want.” He said, hoping it didn’t come off mean or like he was showing off his ‘better’ supplies. “Why don’t you take the box back to your table and use any of the crayons I have for the day.” He offers, hoping that his generosity could help earn Y/n’s trust over time. 
“Can I jus’ sit here?” Y/n asked, her hands fiddling with the box in her hands. 
“You want to sit here?” Bucky parrots her words back to her, hardly believing that she would want to sit with him. 
“Yeah, if that’s okay.” Her lower lip began to wobble again as she took a step back. “Unless, I’m sorry, I can go.” She said quickly, clearly taking Bucky’s surprise as anger. 
“You can sit here.” Bucky’s words were also spoken quickly, worried if he didn’t say anything right away she would run from him. “No one’s wanted to sit with me yet, I’m just surprised.” Y/n nodded her head and put her small box down on the table before walking back to hers. 
In a minute she had gathered all her things and made her way back to Bucky, her backpack now sitting on the other seat. “You sure that I can sit here?” Bucky noticed her slight change in speech, a clear sign of further regression. 
“Yes, I’m sure.” He smiled, Y/n sitting down but still holding her colouring book to her chest, her back straight as a pin. “I’m glad you came over.” He says in hopes to reassure her he wants her here. “It’s nice to have a friend.” Y/n smiles at that, placing her book down, showing a half done colouring page. 
“I agree, bein’ lonely is sad.” She frowns. “Do you wanna colour with me?” Her tone is hopeful, looking at Bucky with a smile. 
“I’d love to.” He smiled back, pushing his coffee to the side and accepting the page Y/n tore out for him. The two of them colouring their respective pages in silence for an hour before Y/n sat up straight with the biggest smile Bucky had seen so far. 
“Done!” She practically yelled. Bucky had been done for a while now, adding his own doodles around the actual lines of the drawing. “Look.” She slides the book towards him, a coloured picture of a princess and her wildlife friends surrounding her staring back up at him. 
“This is really good, Bub.” Bucky coos, surprised at her ability to stay mainly in the lines of the original lines. 
“You can keep it.” She quickly squiggles something on the bottom, Bucky assuming it’s her form of a signature. 
“Thank y-” His words are cut off by the shrill of an alarm, Y/n digging her phone out of her backpack to turn it off, frowning as she places the phone on the table. 
“I have to go home now.” She frowns as she starts to pack up her bag, pausing to turn to Bucky. “Will you, can you.” She stumbles over her words. “Are you coming here tomorrow?” She eventually asks, her eyes avoiding Bucky’s. 
“Are you?” He counter asks. 
“Yes.” 
“Then I’ll be here tomorrow.” She smiles and finally looks at him. 
Y/n spends a few more minutes packing up her things before she stands. “Thank you Mr.” She holds her hand out for a handshake, Bucky’s back straightening as he realises he’ll have to shake her hand with his left. Instead of doing so he grabs her left hand with his right and shakes that one, her giggles worth the awkward situation. “Bye Mr.” She says, turning to leave, but Bucky keeps a hold of her hand. 
“Why don’t you keep these?” He says, pushing the box of crayons closer to her near the edge of the table. 
“Borrow them?” She asks. 
“No, I want you to keep them.” He nudges them her way a little more. “I think you’ll get much more use out of them than I ever would.” He smiles as he watches her’s grow bigger. Picking them up she does a little jump, her backpack jingling as she does. 
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She spins before whispering a ‘thank you’. 
Before Bucky could say goodbye, or ask for her phone number, she had already walked out of the building, walking down the sidewalk looking at the box of crayons in awe. The broken blue crayon still sat on the table, he smiled, picking it up and placing it in his pocket. The small thing a reminder of the best day he’s had in a long time. 
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becca-e-barnes · 2 years
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I just gotta say, sub!pornstar!bucky
I have simply passed away.
I have been thinking about this for days, I need to write about it so my head will let it go
Just the thought of coming home to Bucky filming a scene with a dildo that's stuck to the wall by a suction cup. You didn't think he'd still be filming when you got home so you know he must really be enjoying himself if he's still going.
You hear his whimpers before you've even crossed the threshold. He's moaning like he does when he's beautifully overstimulated and he's quickly on his way to those broken sobs you love so much.
A hot throb settles in the pit of your stomach. You're not sure how you're supposed to just sit here and wait for him to finish, not when he sounds like that. But then you remember it's web-cam day. He'll be live-streaming and that gives him a little more wiggle room with his scenes.
"Bucky, sweetheart?" You call into the apartment, knowing that if he wants you to join him he'll respond.
You can imagine the look on his pretty, blissed out face just from the groan that resounds from the bedroom.
"F-Fuck, mommy?" Oh, he's in that headspace today. A pleasant tingle runs up your spine at the realisation all those people on the livestream heard him admit to being yours. They know he's owned. They might be getting off on whatever delightful display of submission he's letting them see but ultimately, he's yours and he wants to be.
You pad down the hallway quickly, discarding your jacket on the way. The bedroom door wasn't fully closed, swinging open with a gentle press and the sight in front of you is just breathtaking.
Bucky is on his hands and knees, with the camera at a 45 degree angle to his face . He's letting his viewers see the way he works himself on that cock but they still get to see the fucked out look in those pretty eyes. Better still, he gets to read the comments. All those strangers degrading him, calling him a filthy slut, taunting him that he'll be in trouble if he doesn't cum in the next few minutes.
He loves this. Clearly. If the pool of cum splattered across the wooden floor is anything to judge by.
"M-mommy?" His voice is weak and feeble, his cheeks are flushed, his dick looks achingly hard, bobbing as he continues to fuck himself on the toy.
"Oh baby, are you being slutty for all these nice people?" You coo, stepping into the focus of the camera, knowing that it will only see your legs, given the angle.
The chat floods with messages faster than ever. Some tell you your Bucky has been a little whore, some tell you he hasn't been slutty enough, some tell you they want to watch you punish him. Each message only seems to send your sweet boy a little more stupid and it's delightful.
"You've cum everywhere. Did all these people get to watch you fuck yourself stupid? I bet you didn't even touch your dick, did you? I know you just fucked your own ass until you came all over yourself. That's pathetic, baby."
This is Heaven for him. His head lolls forward onto his forearms, pleasure making him almost boneless but you can't have that. Absolutely not.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling his face back up and making him look right down the camera. "Good boy, that's it. Let them see you. Show them that pretty face." His dick twitches, threatening to blow another load over the floor and he knows it.
"I'm gonna cum. Holy shit, I'm s-so close." His eyes roll back in his head and fuck, he's perfect like this. He's breathtaking and it's going to be great for views.
"Don't you dare. You cum when we tell you to." You remind him, dragging his attention back to the rolling chat. Half are keen to watch him cum right then and there and the other half want you to draw it out a little longer. Unfortunately for Bucky, you're leaning towards the latter.
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Have you Been Naughty or Nice?
Swiped from @lil-kissy​
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“Serafina, you’re new here. You should go first!”
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“Okay. Who’s next?”
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“Estrella said we’re going to be going from newest muse to oldest this year.”
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“Oh, that’d be me!”
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There's a reason Santa created a Naughty List. And you're just one of those reasons, Serafina.
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“Seriously?!”
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“This thing isn’t always right. It put Ghost on the naughty list for slacking off at work last year... And it doesn’t have a job.”
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Annabelle, you must have been EXTRA nice this year. Santa has a smiley face next to your name on the Nice List!
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“Hooray! I want a doll.”
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Way to help that old lady, Valeriya. Santa will certainly add you to the Nice List this year. 
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I must say, Ekaterina. You've really improved last year's performance and made the cut on the Nice List!
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“Yay!”
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Wow Dmitri, rescuing those Orphans from that burning building got you a free ride on Santa's Nice List for years to  come!
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“That’s nice... But I haven’t saved anyone from a burning building.”
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“See what I mean by this not always being right?”
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Little ghost, you must have been EXTRA nice this year. Santa has a smiley face next to your name on the Nice List!
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Aleksei, you REALLY put ex-lax in Santa's cookies?! Don't expect to see your name on the Nice List anytime soon.
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“No I didn’t!”
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“Press the button again.”
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Ho ho ho! Nice try, Aleksei. Thought you could slip one past the Big Guy, huh? Naughty.
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“I didn’t, really!”
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Aleksei, do you really think Santa is unaware of your inappropriate Facebook posts? Naughty.
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“WHAT THE HELL IS ‘FACEBOOK’?”
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*Snickering*
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“It’s just a game, Aleksei. Don’t worry about it.”
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“And don’t laugh at him, Ekaterina.”
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“My turn!”
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Dyanna, shouldn’t you be working, instead of surfing the web during office hours…?
NAUGHTY LIST FOR YOU!
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“I’m only eleven, I don’t have a job!”
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Hmmmm... you've got a couple weeks left to redeem yourself, Elias.  Right now, you are on the Naughty List!
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“Alrighty... Will do.”
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... 👀
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“Can I try?”
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“Have at it, little guy.”
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In the words of Larry David, you've been "pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty good" this year.
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🎉
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buckyalpine · 3 months
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Imagine you get into the holiday spirt with the cutest Christmas sweater, the fluffiest socks and these adorable bells in your hair. You're running around the compound with hot chocolate and cookies, the jingle of your bells ringing with each step. Everyone things its adorable. You're like a little elf, busy in your workshop (the kitchen), surrounded by marshmallows, whipped cream, delivering mugs of creamy sweetness along with homemade gingerbread men.
Everyone finds it so cute.
Everyone except Bucky.
Bucky hates it.
He hates the little tinkle he hears with each footstep you take.
Why?
Because his mind is in the gutter.
Your running around looking all cute and sweet and innocent and all he can think about is how gorgeous those bells would sound as he railed you with his cock.
He decided to stay in his room, hoping a book would calm him down but who was he kidding, his enhanced hearing meant he could hear you scurry around down the hall towards his room, and holy shit, if he could just grab your hair and bend you over-
"Bucky!" You lightly knocked at his door before popping your head in with a cheery smile, holding a mug of hot chocolate topped with marshmallows and plenty of whipped cream. No matter how intimidating Bucky painted himself out to be, you knew the soldier loved all the little extra toppings, especially after you caught him adding extra whipped cream when no one was looking.
"Hey" Bucky's voice came out more strained than intended, hoping to will his erection away which currently throbbed with need.
"I brought you hot chocolate" You stepped into his room, pausing when Bucky's smiled looked more like a grimace as he shifted from his place sitting against the headboard.
"Is-is everything okay?" You ask, padding towards him and he can't even hide the tent in his sweats, setting down the book he was reading to try and cover himself.
"Of course-yeah-thanks y/n" He rasped out as you came over and handed him the mug, your sweet scent of vanilla, sugar and spices only making it harder for him to keep his hands to himself.
"Are you sure you're okay?" You could tell Bucky was tensed, chewing his lip without meeting your eyes which was strange considering he was normally fine around you.
"Wouldn't be able to tell you sweets" Bucky chuckled to himself with a sigh rubbing the back of his neck while you cocked your head to the side, the tiny movement making the bells ring again.
Fuck.
"I don't think you'd want to help with something like this doll"
"Try me"
-
"OH" *jingle* "MY" *jingle* "GOD" You wailed, your bells ringing with each thrust as Bucky's cock slammed into you, his hands squeezing your hips as he fucked you from behind. He had you on your hands and knees after tearing your clothes of, loving the needy little whimper you let out after you caught a glimpse of his rock hard cock pressing against his sweats.
"That's it baby, that's it, sound so pretty with those cute little bells in your hair" Bucky groaned, biting his lip to keep his voice down as he fucked you harder, pushing his cock in as deep as it would go, "Look at how you're taking all of me baby, taking my big dick so well, such a good. Girl"
"More, want-more" you hiccupped, tears from pleasure streaking down your face, squealing when Bucky's hand spanked your ass before pulling out and manhandling you till you were on top. You whined, your lips pulled into a pout, all naked on top of the soldier except for the bells in your hair, your needy pussy clamping down on him. You pawed at his hand, tugging it to where you needed him most, moaning when he used his thumb to rub your clit, smirking at your fucked out state.
"Aww babygirl, are you too cockdrunk to fuck yourself on my dick" Bucky cooed as you squirmed on top of him, sloppily grinding yourself, your greedy cunt begging for anything he'd give you. You
"Fuck you're such a little slut" Bucky gritted out as he planted his feet against the mattress and started to fuck up into you, your boobs bouncing in his face matching the dainty rings every time he thrusted his hips up. "Want you under that goddamn tree and nothing else baby, gonna fuck you on every surface of his place"
Bucky could only take so much, his balls pulling tight to his body, cum desperate to blow and paint your walls, your pleasure contorted face all just for him.
"Walking around with these fuckin' bells, making my cock so hard, lookit how pretty you sound now baby, fuck y/n, m'gonna cum!"
"C-cum in me Bucky" You cried out, sobbing in pleasure as your orgasm ripped through you, collapsing against his chest as he fucked you through your high.
"That's it baby, milk my cock, that's what I want for Christmas, wanna empty my balls in you, fuck-oh fuck-milk it baby, shitt!" Bucky bit down on your shoulder to muffle his loud moans, shoving his dick in as far as it would go as he started to throb ropes of his spend into you.
That was round 1.
-
"You look like you've seen a ghost" Tony snorted as he saw Sam and Steve enter the living room, the captain's face pale in shock while Sam couldn't stop grinning. "What happened. We're gonna start the movie soon, where's metal man and y/n"
Steve went beet red while Sam cackled, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Making their own rendition of Jingle Bells"
Anyway, I'm sorry for giving you debauched instead of wholesome plots, MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMALS (the filthy part is for me @ myself)
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kinanabinks · 16 days
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jealousy & flirtation • 4
FOUR: MR. BITTER
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18+
After bringing your situationship with Bucky to an end, you soon meet his petty side - but surely you aren't jealous, are you?
Content Warning: Frat!Bucky x F!Reader, mature themes, jealous!reader, angst.
Series Masterlist
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Digging the spoon back into the tub, Bucky stuffs another bite of chocolate ice cream into his mouth. He's sprawled out on the couch, thick blanket covering his body while an old rom-com plays on the TV.
Meanwhile, Steve and Wanda watch from the doorway. Steve looks on with concern, while Wanda's gaze is more one of morbid curiosity. "He's been like this all week," Steve mumbles, shaking his head.
"That girl really did a number on him," Wanda says with a raised brow. "Why'd she end it, anyway?"
"No fucking idea," Steve replies. "Bucky won't tell me anything. Just that she didn't wanna see him anymore."
"You know I can hear you guys, right?" Bucky suddenly calls out from the couch, turning his head to them. "And the reason I didn't tell you anything is 'cause she didn't tell me anything."
"Huh?" Steve asks as he and Wanda walk into the room. "What do you mean?"
Bucky sinks lower into the couch with a shrug. "I don't wanna talk about it," He says lowly, keeping his eyes on his ice cream.
Wanda rests a knee on the end of the couch. "She didn't give you a reason?" She asks, tilting her head. "That's weird."
"I know," Bucky says bitterly, digging his spoon back into the tub before looking up at both of them. "I'd like to make it clear to you both that I am great in bed, before you make assumptions."
"We weren't assuming anything like that, Buck," Steve says with a soft chuckle, before that look of concern returns to his face. "I wanna talk to her-"
"Absolutely not!" Bucky exclaims. "She's gonna think I sent you to beg her to give me another chance- I'll be damned before I let her think I'm just moping around, hoping she comes back."
Sharing an awkward look, Wanda and Steve wordlessly decide amongst themselves not to point out the fact that Bucky is clearly moping around, hoping you come back.
"Alright, I won't," Steve swears, though he has no intention to keep that promise.
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Somehow, Bucky's even hotter now that you've ended things.
He's left his hair a little scruffy and he's wearing the vintage, dark brown YSL hoodie you tried to steal from him multiple times. Not only that, but he's also visibly pissed off every time you meet his eyes - no sweet smile like usual, instead a clenched jaw and seemingly unbothered, blank stare.
And it's such a turn on.
"Hello?" You're nudged harshly, pulling you from your stalker-level staring.
"Huh?" You mumble, turning your face to Thor. "Oh. Sorry."
"You need to get a grip," He tells you sternly. "It was your choice to end it, so now you have to deal with it."
"Why are you being so mean?" You ask him, grabbing the kettle bell from the ground.
"I'm mean? You broke an innocent man's heart!" He retorts. "All because he's friends with a girl."
With a scoff, you glare at him. "You don't understand, T. It wasn't that he was friends with a girl, it's about..." You find it hard to explain it out loud, especially to someone who you know wouldn't see your point.
"You didn't even have an honest conversation with him about it," Thor goes on to say with his hands on his hips. "I'm very disappointed in you."
Doing your best to ignore the pang in your chest, you begin lifting the weight, using your pain as motivation. "It's complicated. I can't just tell the guy that I don't like his best friend - that would piss him off," You say, stealing another quick glance at Bucky who's running on a treadmill on the other side of the gym.
"Yeah, he'd be understandably pissed off because that isn't a valid reason to end it," Thor says curtly.
"She was putting me down in front of him," You tell him, exasperated. "Juniper didn't like that I was seeing him. He's never had a girlfriend, and there's a reason for that. Why would I put myself in a position where I could get hurt, just for a man?"
A gorgeous, funny, sweet man. Stop it.
You and Thor continue in the free weights section while you sneak glances up at Bucky. Eventually, you see him shake Steve's hand before he leaves the gym, and you feel a slight magnetic pull as you do your best not to follow him out.
Just as you put your kettle bell away, you feel a tap on your shoulder. Assuming it's Thor, you turn around with a raised brow, but you're taken aback when you see that it's not Thor.
"Steve?" You utter, confused. "What's up?"
He pulls out an airpod from his right ear before nodding backwards. "Spot me?"
Surprised that he's asking you, you slowly nod. "Sure," You reply, giving Thor a shrug as you follow Steve over to a bench.
He grabs a barbell and lays down on the bench while you stand behind him. For his first few reps, neither of you say a word, and you assume he honestly only wanted you to spot him - but once he hits 5 reps, he speaks up.
"Bucky told me what happened between you," He says bluntly, making your guts churn. "That was pretty cold of you, Y/N."
Wanting to be anywhere but here, you squirm where you stand. "Oh," Is all you say.
"I thought you guys were going well," Steve continues. "Things seemed good between you - what changed?"
Shaking your head, you feel yourself begin to panic. "I- I don't know what to tell you, Steve," You tell him honestly.
With a huff, he slams the barbell onto the ground and stands up, facing you with a glare. "How about the truth?" He says harshly.
"Everything okay here?" Thor interjects as he appears next to you, placing his hand firmly on your shoulder as he frowns at Steve. "Can I help you, Rogers?"
There's a tension between them you've never noticed before. Looking up at the glaring blond, you gently nudge his stomach. "It's okay, T," You say.
Unsatisfied, Thor continues concentrating his cold gaze on Steve. "If you have a problem, you can take it up with me," He says sternly.
"It's nothing to do with you, Odinson," Steve hits back at him, an equally weighted look of bitterness in his eyes.
"And Bucky's love life is anything to do with you?" Thor asks with a scoff. Though he made it clear to you that he disagreed with the way you ended things with Bucky, Thor will be damned if anyone else tries to take a shot at you.
"He's my best friend," Steve reminds him.
"And Y/N is mine," Thor replies. "You don't see me interrogating Barnes, do you?"
"Because he's not in the wrong here," Steve hisses, making you wince as he takes a step closer.
Thor subtly pulls you behind him while moving even closer to Steve. "Get off your high horse, Rogers. Who was in the wrong in freshman year?"
That throws you for a loop. "What?" You utter with a frown.
Steve lets out a laugh. "Wow. You're really gonna bring that shit back up? It was fucking years ago!"
"The principal is the same," Thor snaps. "None of us are saints. How is what you did to me any different to what Y/N did to Bucky?"
What Steve did to Thor?
With an eye roll, Steve pulls out his airpod from his pocket and sticks it back into his ear. "Get over it," He grumbles while storming off.
"I will when you will!" Thor calls out after him.
Once Steve's out of sight, you stare up at Thor, lips parted in shock. "Since fucking when were you and Steve Rogers a thing?" You ask him, utterly baffled.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It was nothing. Happened before you and I became friends, wasn't a big enough deal to mention," He says casually.
"And what, he broke your heart?" You ask as the two of you make your way to the exit.
"He wishes," Thor says bitterly. "It wasn't serious. Same as you and Barnes, to be honest. We hooked up a few times, then he ghosted me."
Processing that information as you leave the gym, you shake your head. Never in a million years would you have thought Thor had history with Steve, but now that you know, it does make complete sense. You even go so far as to think they would make an awfully attractive couple.
"Stop," He growls as you cross the road back onto campus. "I know what you're thinking."
"Thor, he is super hot," You say with a laugh. "I mean, if I were you, I'd forgive the whole ghosting thing."
Maybe you only feel that way because you'd like to think Bucky would be able to forgive you.
"Shut your trap," Thor says sternly. "It's obviously clear that our friendship groups should never collide. Only ends with someone getting hurt."
As you both make your way back to the apartment, you begin to understand why Thor was so disappointed in the way you treated Bucky - it's because that's the way he was treated by Steve. Dropped like he meant nothing, made to feel worthless. As if you could feel any more guilty.
"Stop thinking about it, sweetheart," Thor says with a much softer tone, recognizing the remorse on your face. "You did what was best for you. It's not like you completely ghosted him - you at least had a conversation with him. That's more than a lot of people can say. More than Steve could say, at least."
You try to agree with him, but you can't. The memory of the pure look of heartbreak on Bucky's face when you told him you didn't wanna see him anymore is etched onto your mind. Did you do the right thing, or is Thor just trying to make you feel better? You suddenly have the awful thought that you threw away your chance to have a beautiful relationship with Bucky. Would you have made a good couple? Could you have fallen in love with him, eventually? What if he was your soulmate?
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Class has been awkward recently. For a brief period of time, it served as an arena for you and Bucky to eye-fuck each other while competing with one another for who could send the dirtiest text to make the other crack. And now, it's back to how it was before the night of the fateful party where you first slept with him - only worse, because now you're left with the memories of the tryst that was over all too soon.
Instead of shooting you coy winks and drawing dicks on your notebook whenever he walks by, Bucky's avoiding your gaze and acting as though you don't exist. It hurts, but you know you deserve it.
"This project is worth 15% of your overall grade, so please don't treat it like a free-for-all," Professor Linum says to the class. "You'll be in groups of four, and I expect the workload to be divided equally amongst you. This is about artistic and creative collaboration. Now, I gave you all a color as you walked in today. Each table has a sheet with one of those colors written on it - find the table with your assigned color and sit on it. These will be your groups."
A buzz breaks out as your classmates start making their way to their groups. You stand up and look for your color, walking to the other side of the room before you find the word Green and place your things on the table. As you do, you hear a deep voice grumble, "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."
Looking up, you see Bucky sitting on the opposite side of the table. Of course. Inwardly wincing, you sit down, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. Maria Hill is sitting next to Bucky and a few moments of awkward silence later, Grant Ward sits next to you.
"Everyone happy with their groups?" Professor Linum asks.
Nobody speaks up, but Bucky's lip twitches. You're half-surprised he isn't bothering to ask if he can change his group.
"Fantastic. Your task is simple," Professor Linum continues. "Pick an emotion - something complex. I don't want any happys or sads. Give me nostalgia. Bittersweet. Resignation. You have two minutes to discuss with your groups and come to a decision. No two groups can have the same emotion - the quicker you can decide on one, the higher your chances of bagging it."
The room bursts into a cacophony of conversations as everyone gets their ideas out. Though you appreciate art and love studying it, you've never been much of an artist yourself besides the odd piece here and there, so you don't really mind what your group settle on, so long as it's interesting.
"Jealousy," Maria is first to throw her suggestion out onto the table. "I mean, we are the Green group. It's only right."
"Nah, that's boring," Grant says with a face as though he's just smelt something bad. "I want something sad. Sad paintings always have the most to say."
"I disagree. I think pieces exploring sex are the most interesting," Maria counters, before giving Bucky a sly wink.
His face is blank for half a second, then he quickly breaks out into a smirk as he moves closer to her. "I'm inclined to agree," He replies in a sultry tone, one which makes your throat burn.
Is he seriously trying to make you jealous right now?
"Blue Team are the first to confirm their emotion!" Professor Linum announces suddenly. "They'll be creating art that explores the theme of jealousy."
"Aw, that sucks," Grant says, but he doesn't sound at all regretful as he leans forward with his hands clasped together. "Saudade."
The three of you look at him, equally confused looks on your faces as you silently ask him to elaborate.
"It's a Portuguese word that doesn't really have an English translation," He says, the look on his face telling you he's incredibly excited to be the one telling you this, though he's doing his best to act nonchalant. "It's a deep longing for something or someone, linked with nostalgia and melancholy. Like, a sense of emptiness, a longing for that which you've lost."
"...Right," Maria says with an unimpressed look on her face. "That sounds depressing as fuck."
Grant glares at her. "It is."
"How about resentment?" Bucky says, and you don't miss the quick glance he shoots your way.
God, he's petty.
"Time's up!" Linum calls out with a clap of his hands. "Green Team - you're the only ones who haven't yet decided. What's it gonna be?"
Grant's the first to speak up, much to Maria's dismay. "Saudade," He announces proudly, his chin up high.
Not surprised at his student's pretentious answer, Linum nods. "Fine," He approves bluntly. "Now you've all got your emotion, here comes the hard part - I want you, in your groups, to create a piece of art together which explores your chosen emotion. The medium is up to you. At the end of this semester, you'll each present your work to the class."
He continues explaining the stipulations while you sink in your seat, feeling utter dread at the thought of having to work with Bucky. It's bad enough that he hates you from afar, but speaking to him every week? This is going to be a nightmare.
"Bucky," You call him back when the class ends and everyone's filing out of the room. He almost looks as though he's about to continue walking away, but with a clenched jaw, he turns back to you.
"What?" He asks curtly, none of the usual softness or flirtation in his tone that you became used to. It's a jarring change.
You watch as a few more people leave, waiting for it to quieten down before you speak. "Are you mad at me?" You ask, doing your best to be firm but not harsh with your tone. It's a dumb question - of course he's mad at you for prematurely ending what could've been a fun relationship - but maybe you just want a reason to speak to him.
Bucky looks as though he wants to argue with you for a split second, but the emotion on his face quickly dissipates as he changes his mind. "I'm not mad," He utters coolly, a blank stare on his face.
If it was anyone else, you'd believe them, but you know better. He's punishing you for cutting him off by being distant, and you can't blame him for it. But damn if it doesn't hurt. "We can still be... civil," You go on to say, holding back a wince.
His face remains void of emotion as he replies, "Okay."
This sucks. You'd rather he yell at you - in fact, a part of you wants him to yell at you, just so he's at least putting some effort into this conversation. You want him to be angry because that would mean he cares. That would mean he still thinks about you the way you think about him, and as much as you're a terrible and selfish person for it, you want to be taking up space in his mind. As toxic as that sounds.
"Bucky," You say, bordering on whining as you take a step closer to him. "Don't be like this." Yell. Call me names. Say you hate me. Are you purposely being annoying to piss him off?
"What do you want from me?" He asks you, allowing a slight confusion to twitch at his brows. "You said it yourself: we're done."
Your chest pangs and you immediately regret ending it. If you knew it would feel like this, you never would have done it. Screw Juniper, let her try and sabotage things, it's not worth losing Bucky.
"I'm sorry," You find yourself saying, not knowing what else to say. "I didn't want to hurt you. But there's no need to flirt with other girls in front of me."
That earns another eyebrow twitch. "Flirt with other girls," He repeats flatly.
"Yes," You say, not caring how immature or downright crazy you sound. "That whole... thing with Maria. What, are you trying to make me jealous, or something?"
His brow flies up. "You're jealous?" He asks, not allowing his tone to give away how he's feeling.
"Of course not," You immediately answer. "But it's pretty obvious, what you're trying to do."
"I'm not trying to do anything," He corrects you bluntly. "Maria's a pretty girl. I'm a warm-blooded man. I'm within my rights to flirt with her."
You stare up at him, silently willing him to give up the aloof act. You don't deserve him to be nice to you, or give you any of his energy at all, but you want it so badly. You want him to understand, without you having to say it, that you didn't want to end things with him and you still want him just as much as you always have. It feels surreal to know that it's your fault the man you've been pining after for so many years isn't with you anymore. He wanted you, and you rejected him. God, you suck.
"There you are Jamie, I've been waiting for you for ages!" Juniper herself suddenly calls out as she swoops into the room. "What are you still doing in class? We agreed to meet at- oh." Her face drops when she sees you, and she stops a few tables away. Folding her arms across her chest, she narrows her eyes. "What's going on?"
"Sorry, Junie, I got held up," Bucky mutters, not even sparing you a final look as he turns and walks over to her. She shoots you a cold glare over his shoulder as if to say stay away before she links her arm with his and the two of them exit the room.
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"This sucks," Yelena complains as she looks around the bar. It's a typical Friday night at Swirl. The place is packed with students and the music isn't too loud, but Yelena isn't talking about the bar itself. She's talking about your low mood. Her eyes focus back on you as she takes a sip of her Cosmo while you rest your head on your fist, your Pornstar Martini untouched. "You really liked him, huh?" She asks with a pained look. "I don't think I've ever seen you this messed up over a guy. Not even Tony."
You let out a huff of air, no energy to try and deny it. The truth is, you're more upset than you thought possible, and you were more attached to Bucky than you initially claimed. Though your time with him was short, he was everything you look for in a partner, and you're sorely missing the gap he's left in your life - a gap you yourself carved out. Idiot.
"You don't wanna dance?" Yelena asks, though she already knows the answer. "Don't wanna maybe talk to someone else? There's plenty more fish in the sea, you know. Fish that don't have possessive best friends."
Your response is something between a grunt and a whine, and Yelena gives up with a sigh.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Thor's glaring at the man who just paid for his drink. "What do you think you're doing?" He asks Steve, who pulls his phone away from the card reader with a casual look on his face.
"What? I can't buy an old friend a drink, now?" Steve asks, resting an arm on the bar as he looks Thor up and down.
"Old friend?" Thor repeats with a scoff. "Please."
Steve places a hand on his chest with a pout on his lips. "You wound me, baby," He says, moving closer to him. "I just wanna share a drink. Nothing more. Unless you want more."
Utterly baffled by Steve's audacity, Thor only narrows his eyes.
"If you want more, I can give you more," Steve continues with a playful smirk as he moves even closer, lowering his voice as much as he can to remain audible over the music. "I can give you a lot, big guy."
"Don't call me that - what the fuck is going on with you, Rogers?" Thor spits. "What's your angle?"
"No angle!" Steve claims, holding his hands up, his eyes wide. After a second, he relaxes again, resuming with the sultry look. "Talking to you the other day... it was nice. Made me think of old times."
With a dry laugh, Thor shakes his head. "You're a fucking dick, Rogers," He utters. "Thanks for the drink, but I'd rather have it alone."
"Where's the fun in that?" Steve asks, leaning against the bar while facing Thor, a mischievous look in his eyes. "If I recall correctly, you said I was the best you ever had."
Thor snorts. "Yeah, when I was 18," He points out bluntly. "Don't fool yourself into believing I still think about you, Rogers."
"Ouch," Steve mutters as the bartender slides across Thor's beer.
Glancing over at him, Thor raises a brow. "How, uh, how's Barnes doing?" He can't help but ask, knowing what a mess you are and wondering if Bucky's the same.
Steve shrugs, hand clasped around his own beer. "Not great. Your girl really fucked him over," He says. "No warning, no reason. Must've took a leaf out of my book."
Thor takes a long sip of beer, doing his best to keep quiet but unable to stop himself. "There was a reason," He finds himself saying. "Just one that Barnes wouldn't have accepted."
"What do you mean?" Steve asks with a frown. "What was it? I know it wouldn't have been anything Bucky did."
"It wasn't," Thor confirms before sighing. "You ever wonder how Juniper really feels about him?"
Taken aback by his mention of someone who Steve didn't think had anything to do with it, he furrows his brows together. "Uh... what?"
Thor takes another sip before elaborating. "It's clear she feels strongly about him. Everyone knows that," He states.
"Oh, yeah," Steve agrees with a nod. "They're best friends. So, what?"
"So, Juniper loves her best friend a little too much to allow him to ever have a normal relationship with another girl," Thor spills out, immediately regretting his words.
Steve is baffled, his eyes wide. "Did- did she tell Y/N to end it?" He asks, shocked.
"No, not explicitly," Thor clears up. "But it was made clear that she'd make it difficult for them to progress in any way. Y/N figured it wasn't worth the heartbreak, so she quit before things got too deep."
It takes Steve a few moments to process Thor's words. Though at first, he's confused, he slowly pieces it together and things begin to make a lot of sense. "Oh, shit," He whispers to himself. "Wren. She was right..."
"What?" It's Thor's turn to be confused.
Shaking his head, Steve meets his eyes. "Nothing, never mind. So, Y/N ended things with Bucky because of Juniper's... closeness to him?" He asks.
"Pretty much," Thor says with a shrug. He's said too much now so he may as well say it all. "She doesn't mind that his best friend is a girl, heck, I'm one of her best friends so that would be hypocritical. It's just that Juniper can be pretty obvious when she doesn't like someone, and I'm sure she's a big reason that Bucky's always single."
Steve drums his fingers on the counter, shaking his head. "Wow," He mumbles. "I didn't even... wow."
"You okay?" Thor asks before having another drink of his beer.
Nodding, Steve turns to him. "Yeah, I just... it sucks that it had to end like that. I mean, Bucky was really into her, and he was so much happier," He says wistfully. "As much as Juniper probably doesn't want him to, Bucky's always wanted a proper girlfriend. He's lonely, and he's always thought it's his fault he wasn't able to develop anything with anyone he dated. He takes it really personally when things end, you know? Deep down, he's a sensitive guy. And Y/N seems like a great girl. It's a shame..."
"If only we could get Juniper away from him long enough for them to reconcile and get together," Thor says with a sigh.
"If only..." Steve trails off before his eyes light up. "I mean, we could."
Frowning, Thor puts his beer down. "We could what?"
"Get them back together," Steve says brightly. "All we have to do is make sure Juniper doesn't get the chance to come between them."
"That's a pretty big task, Rogers," Thor says. "Who's to say Bucky will even forgive Y/N?"
"He's too into her to pass up the chance of getting back with her," Steve claims. "His ego is hurt right now, but if he knew how much she likes him and that the reason she ended things was 'cause of Juniper, he'd be more than willing to give things a second chance."
"What makes you think he'd believe Juniper was the reason? I mean, haven't they been best friends since they were born?" Thor asks incredulously.
Steve nods, a determined look growing on his face. "It won't be easy, but together, you and I can make him see her true colors," He says, giving Thor a smile. "What do you say? Prepared to do what it takes to make our best friends happy again?"
Reluctant to agree to spend time with Steve, Thor hesitates. But when he looks to the other side of the room and sees you hunched over your drink looking utterly distraught, he knows he can't sit back and let you remain hurt when he has the power to change that. Turning back to Steve, he shakes his outstretched hand. "Fine. Let's do it," He agrees. "But if you think this puts you in with a chance to get back into my pants, you're dead wrong, Rogers."
With a smirk, Steve tightens his grip on his hand. "Whatever you say, big guy."
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eeek exciting 🫶
part 5 >
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sagechanoafterdark · 1 month
Text
Shoot Your Shot, Cupid
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Word Count: 3,770 Warnings: mature language, unbeata'd, soft Bucky, lets assume Sam set him up for this one, female coded reader, happy ending because we all deserve it, TIME SKIIIIIP, best friend with good intentions that shows up for one job and then disappears, speed dating, one obnoxious man, all the soft feelings.
Hello Kittens, and Happy Valentine's Day. It's been a while since I wrote... well anything and I was working on this for a couple of months but I think it's come all together now. Hope you enjoy it!
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This couldn’t get much worse.
Tricked by your best friend.
Nay, betrayed.  
By someone you implicitly trusted.
There would be no forgiving this.
Never, not ever.
The dinner and drinks invitation a few days before the start of February was met with trepidation on your part. All Christmas season you’d feigned interest as Mellony, your best friend, thrust every single co-worker, neighbor, and wait staff at you to find you someone to share the holiday with.
You couldn’t blame her. After all, Mellony was blissfully happy with her fiancée and only wanted the same for you.
All that you could forgive.
But this?
This was a complete and utter betrayal.
A deep and unimpressed frown marred your face as Mellony took the sticky name tag off the table with her perfectly manicured nails. Peeling the back with an ear-to-ear grin and pressed it against your chest. “There,” she exclaimed with joy, lacing her fingers together. “Now you’re all set.”
Looking down at the beautifully scrawled letters framed by little hearts you couldn’t help but curl your lip and whine, “Mel, you promised.”
The blond snorted and rolled her enormous puppy dog eyes, “I never promised anything.” Looping her arm through yours she practically began to drag you through the convention center doors and past the sign that sealed your fate.
Cupids Bow Speed Dating Event.
“Yes, you did,” you reaffirmed. Glancing around the room packed full of men and women in a combination of sweaters, suits, and cocktail dresses. “You promised not to try and set me up with anyone again.”
“This is my speed dating event. It doesn’t count.”
“I can assure you it does.”
“Nooooo,” she practically sang, turning around on her heel with that adorable mischievous smile of hers. “I promised that I wouldn’t set you up with anyone I knew. Everyone here was vetted by my team. I don't know any of these people.”
Grumbling she began tugging you towards the stage as intro music began to play softly from the DJ booth. Mellony paused, gripping your hand tight and looking down at you as the DJ introduced her, “Please, stay? I just want you to find someone.”
“Mel,” you hissed with disapproval. “I don’t need to find someone.”
Whether or not she heard you was unclear as the music swelled and Mellony put on her famous razzle dazzle smile and waved at everyone as she took the microphone and the presentation began. Your eyes swung to the crowd of people, more than three dozen people silhouetted against the stage lights and it made you shiver.
This was going to be a disaster.
Twenty minutes later your mind was glazed over with the audacity of men.
With every new ding of the bell, you found yourself becoming more annoyed. The match-making event progressed easily. People were divided into groups based on results from a questionnaire, something you distinctly remember Mel presenting to you as a fun Cosmo quiz, while one group remained seated the others rotated around the room.
By some stroke of luck, you were one of the people destined to sit. But that also meant that total strangers would be coming to your table to chat with you.
In all your years of singledom,  you’d thought you’d heard it all. Too fat. Too loud. Too smart. Too opinionated. Those were old hat by now, and you weren’t immune to the bitter words from unimportant people.
“I suppose you’re an attractive woman,” the suit across from you said thoughtfully. His eyes never met yours, instead looking around the room likely for the next victim of his charm. “But I’m not really into your hair color. How would you feel about dying it?”
The question hung in the air as you waited for the man to look back at you. When his beady eyes returned to your face you couldn’t hide the disbelief, waving your hand in the air with an icy finality, “Absolutely not. You can go.”
He didn’t wait. Standing so quickly the chair scraped against the floor as he haughtily walked towards the bar. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you pulled out your phone and began to scroll social media waiting for the next bell in fifteen minutes.
Not the wildest thing you’d ever heard, but the gall of some people astounded even you sometimes. This also wasn’t the first event you’d been to that Mel had put on, you’d come to one or two as she’d begun her match-making service so you knew the ins and outs pretty well. But getting the same questions over and over was getting old fast.
What do you do for a living?
Where are you from?
What’s your family like?
What’s your perfect date idea?
BOR-ING!
Just once you’d like someone to ask you a real question, something thoughtful instead of the surface questions you’d find on social media.
You couldn’t believe you wore your favorite dress for this nonsense.
The bell dinged once again and the shadow of a new man sat in front of you.
“Hi.”
“Hello,” you said not looking up from the device in your hand.
“Come here often?”
“To a dating event? No,” the words were flowing out of your mouth easily. Canned responses for canned questions.
There was a heavy pause, “You seem bored.”
“That’s because I am.”
A muted scoff came from the other side of the table, “What would make it more interesting then?”
A long sigh escaped you as you continued scrolling on your phone, “If someone would ask me a question of substance, maybe I would give them a chance for conversation.”
Again a long stretching silence from the other side and you had to resist rolling your eyes.
“Alright,” he rumbled, leaning back against his chair. “Then what’s one gift you always wish you’d gotten, but never did?”
That had your thumb pausing on the endless scrolling you were doing. Finally, your gaze flicked up and your brain stopped working for a brief moment as you took in the disgustingly attractive man sitting your opposite.
Coffee color hair, and a chiseled jaw dotted with a five o’clock shadow would be enough to make even the most choosy of a woman’s breath catch. He was wearing a bulky leather jacket in a building that was pushing 80 degrees, which was odd but not overly strange.
But oddly enough you felt yourself getting drawn in. Not by his cheekbones, the cut of his jaw, the dimple in his chin, or even the semi-scowl he wore.
No, it was his eyes. Bright blue soulful eyes, that sparkled a little as he sat across the table from you. Eyes that told a story all their own and drew you out of your scrolling for the first time that night.
Pursing your lips slightly you thought, “Hmm, I’d have to say it’s a puppy.”
His eyebrow arched slightly, clearly surprised by your answer, “A puppy?”
“Sure,” you said with a slight shrug. “A puppy is something I’ve always wanted but never gotten as a gift from anyone other than myself.”
“What kind of puppy?”
“Oh I don’t have a preferred breed,” you informed, tilting your head a little at the odd conversation. “But as a child, it was what I asked for every year as a present. But I never got one.”
His lips turned up in a half smile and you thought you were going to melt in your seat, “Asking for one every year and not getting one, sounds a little disappointing. Was that just a Christmas thing?”
“Nah,” you laughed a little, fingers picking at a little piece of lint on the edge of your dress. “Christmas, birthdays, Easter didn’t matter. If gifts were being given, it was at the top of my list. Every year I’d be running to the tree and picking up presents, looking for one big enough. It’s a running joke with my friends that I’d marry the first man to give me a puppy for Christmas.”
A brisk laugh escaped him, his lips pulled into a charming smile that had nervous butterflies leap up in your chest. “A puppy for Christmas,” he rumbled thoughtfully. “I’ll have to remember that.”
The response made goosebumps prickle along your skin and you held back a shiver, wetting your suddenly dry lips, “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“What’s a gift you always wanted but didn’t get,” you paused briefly a coy smile stretching your lips.
His smile turned into a smirk as he once again leaned back in his chair, blue eyes darting back and forth over your face as he thought about it. It was going well, your impish smile growing along with his own. That is until his smile began to fall, bright blue gaze darting a little more frantically over your face before he licked his lips and an unexpected tremor sounded in his voice, “I think, I think it was a sled.”
“A sled,” you asked, leaning forward a little in intrigue. “Like a big plastic one with the handles? Oh no, I got it you’re definitely an inflatable snow tube kind of guy.”
A balk of laughter sounded from him, making hidden laugh lines appear at the corner of his eyes as they brightened with your playful banter. “Nah,” he exclaimed, waving a hand. “More like a wood and metal one. It had bright red skis and a wooden seat top. That sled was all I wanted as a kid.”
An amused giggle slipped from you, “I had a wagon kind of like that as a kid, it was a radio flyer.”
His fingers snapped as he pointed at you with a little bit of excitement, “That’s it! A Radio Flyer sled, with a rope handle and foot steering bar. Though I don’t think I’d ever get one now. I’m a little too old to go sledding down a hill.”
“Age is all about perspective.”
He snorted, “Tell that to my driver's license.”
Genuine laughter bubbled up from inside of you as you leaned forward in your seat, a teasing retort on your lips. Before you could speak, Mellony rang her little handbell and people began to switch places again. But your blue-eyed stranger lingered at your table.
“Talk to you again?”
He sounded, hopeful. “Yeah,” you croaked out pathetically. “Talk to you again.”
You watched as he stood from your table and made his way across the room to his next table while another man took his place at your own. A feeling of disappointment swelled as you lost sight of him in the crowd of people, the feeling intensifying as this new man briefly introduced themselves before launching into a long Tinder-level introduction.
Two more men sat at your table, barely holding your interest outside of normal pleasantries before Mel rang her handbell in rapid succession. “Alright everyone that’s the first round,” she called from her place at the podium. “We’re going to break for thirty minutes. There are hors d'oeuvres and refreshments at the bar. Please feel free to mingle!”
The room of people began to stand and mill around as an uproar of chatter began. Your eyes picked out a couple of men from your group, pairing up with others and heading to the bar. Cordial smiles turned into pleasant touches and sweetheart eyes as they went.
The Cupids Bow Dating Event was a success and you couldn’t help but feel the swell of pride for your friend.
“Hey, Sourpuss,” Melody greeted, looping her arm through yours. “You having fun yet?”
Your mind drifted back to your blue-eyed stranger, “A little.”
“Well, I don’t know if you know this. But the point of speed dating is to, you know, find a date. I was watching you, and you gotta talk to more than one person,” she sassed.
Your mouth turned down to a frown for a brief moment, “I talked to someone.”
“Oh yeah? What was his name.”
Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times as you realized quickly you’d never even got Mr. Blue-Eyes name, “Shit.”
“What?”
“I didn’t even get Mr. Blue-Eyes name!”
“It’s Bucky.”
Turning around there stood Mr. Blue-Eyes himself, err… you meant Bucky. There was no doubt your embarrassment showed on your face, but the little nervous laugh that slipped out sealed the deal.
Bucky smiled at you, “That is if it’s me you were talking about?”
Wetting your lips you shifted, suddenly nervous before meeting friendly blue eyes, “Yeah,” you squeaked before clearing your throat. “I mean, yes. I’m sorry I missed your name when we talked.”
He was nodding for a brief moment, his eyes darting over towards the bar before taking a few steps closer to you and leaning down. “There’s a restaurant down the street. They’ve got pretty good sushi. You want to get the hell out of here?”
“Oh, my god yes!” The tips of your ears felt hot as you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole but Bucky didn’t seem to notice your embarrassment. Instead, he offered up his right arm and you looped yours into it without hesitation.
Melody’s brow shot up out of surprise, “B-but that was only the first round! There are still two more.”
“I don’t think we need a round two,” Bucky said, the same charming smile pulling at the corner of his mouth and making his eyes crinkle.
“Yeah,” you laughed, in a teasing tone. “This round just might go to Cupid after all.”
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Three years later.
Lights twinkled in the living room of your apartment, it was god awful early and you’d carefully planned today. Christmas day and you’d been waiting for this moment for two years now. Quickly and quietly you snuck out of the bedroom where Bucky lay wrapped up in the blankets and made your way to the front closet.
It was hard being sneaky when your boyfriend was a super spy. But after a lot of careful planning, misdirections, and a lot of help from Sam, you’d managed to do it and Bucky was none the wiser.
Tiptoeing towards the hall closet that Bucky never used you opened the squeaky hinged door in just the way so it made no noise. Reaching blindly into the black of the closet you felt around, past the dozen unused coats, jackets, scarves, and hats your hand met the back of the closet wall. Sliding quietly until your fingers brushed the cold metal you were looking for.
Jackpot.
Fingers wrapped around your prize as you gave a firm but gentle tug. A pristine, adult-sized, bright red and creamy wood seat Flex Flyer sled emerged complete with an enormous red bow.
Stifling a giggle you set it down.
“What are you doing?”
A shriek tore out of your throat as you jumped what felt like twenty feet in the air.
“James Barnes,” you scolded, heart beating a million miles an hour. “What have I said about sneaking up on me?”
“You were being sneaky first,” he said, brows drawn together as he tried to look around you. “What you hiding doll face?”
“Nothing!” You lied, spreading your arms and legs to hide your surprise gift.
It was at that moment you heard the vibration from Bucky’s phone clutched in his hand, the man tried to not look sheepish as he not so covertly pressed the silence button.
Suspicion immediately filled you, “Bucky? What are you doing?”
“What are you doing?” He shot back, his brow knits in suspicion.
It was a standoff.
The two of you staring each other down in the dark of the hallway in your matching Christmas pajamas. Someone knocking on the front door startled you both before Bucky cursed under his breath, pointing at you, “Don’t follow me.”
His instruction surprised you as he brushed past you in the small hallway. You scoffed under your breath, “You’re in your PJ’s Buck, how far are you going?”
Bucky paused before going around the corner, “I mean it.” There was another soft but hurried knock and he cursed before disappearing.
A tisk of disapproval escaped you, but urgency filled your movements the second he was out of sight. Hands shaking slightly you hurried, pulling the sled out from the closet with as much silence as you could muster before dashing the Christmas tree. Stuffing the sled behind the tree, a few bulbs swinging back and forth as you fumbled to fluff the crumpled bow on Bucky’s surprise.
A cacophony of hushed grumbles and whispers came from the front door, you could have sworn you heard Sam as the door closed with a thunk and the lock turned. In a matter of seconds Bucky was coming around the corner again, an enormous gold box gripped in his hands affixed with a brilliant glittering green bow.
It was clear that Bucky didn’t see you immediately as he juggled the wobbly box and tried to remain quiet as he did so.
“Whatcha, got there?”
Bucky startled, socked feet skidding to a halt just at the corner of the couch as the box wobbled in his hands again. Frustrated and accusatory blue eyes narrowed, “What are you doing in here?” He asked in a hushed whisper.
“What are you doing in here?”
“You better not be shaking presents.”
“Please,” you scoffed. “I’ll have you know I haven’t shaken a present since I was ten. What’s in the box, Jamie?”
Bucky flinched a little, his one weakness was when you called him Jamie. His shoulders sagged a little as his grip on the box tightened, “This was supposed to be a surprise.”
“Oh I’m surprised,” you said with a laugh. The mantle clock began to ding for the early morning hour. Five AM came so early now. “Do you want to open our gifts now?”
Bucky pursed his lips, body jerking as the box tried to throw itself from his hands. “I think now is best.”
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the prospect of what the box could contain. But your eyes flitted over to the space behind the tree where you’d stuffed Bucky’s surprise and the anxious feeling grew tenfold as you thought about the question you were going to ask him once he’d seen it.
Clearing his throat Bucky nodded towards the Christmas tree and the traditional present opening space. Dutifully you sat down in the chair, eyes darting over behind the tree to where your gift sat. “Um, mine's not wrapped.”
“That’s alright,” he said, setting the box at your feet as it rattled all on its own now that it was on the floor. “Where is mine and we’ll do them on the count of three.”
“Alright,” you agreed, fingers tapping the edges of your box. “Yours is behind the tree.”
You saw his eyes dart over to the tree and then back down to you, “On three.”
“Alright,” you agreed, fingers poised to rip at the bow on top of the gift. “One.”
“Two,” Bucky echoed, taking a step closer to the tree.
“Three!”
Your fingers began tearing at the bow on top of the gift box as it rattled against the floor. Pushing back the loose gold paper and terrible tape job before, POP!
Two of the most adorable brown eyes you’d ever seen stared up at you. You were stunned for a moment, staring down at the cutest little paws and wet nose you’d ever laid your eyes on.
“OHMYGODAPUPPY!!”
The shrieking sob spilled past your lips as you pulled the squirming pup into your arms, its tiny tongue licking and sniffing all over your face and mouth. Tears spilled from your eyes as the little bundle in your arms wiggled, squirmed, and kissed your face everywhere; its bottom wiggling so much they tumbled out of your arms and into your lap.
“Oh my god,” you blubbered, holding the precious little one to you. “Bucky! He’s so cute. Oh, it’s a she. She’s so cute, James. Oh god! Oh my god, I love her so much. I can't—I can’t believe this! This is real right? Do I get to keep her? Bucky?”
Looking up Bucky was angled away from you, the lights of the Christmas tree gleaming off of his arm as he held onto his new sled. His fingers found the tag as he stared at it in the dim lighting. 
He sniffled briefly before he began to read, “Roses are red, violets are blue, do me the—the honor—the honor of spending my life with you?”
Teary blue eyes turned towards you as you held the squirming puppy in your arms. “Doll,” he squeaked out with a sniffle as a few tears began to slip. “You…”
Looking up at him from your seat you reached into the side table drawer pulled out a distinctive black ring box and opened it. Inside, a single simple gold band that had Bucky’s breath catching.
“Will you,” you croaked out, clearing your throat a little more and juggling your new bundle of joy in your arms. “Will you marry me, James Buchanan Barns?”
A laugh escaped Bucky as he lowered the sled to the floor, and then himself. Bucky knelt before you, down on one knee, and reached forward towards the little puppy squirming in your arms. His fingers brushed against a tiny piece of string attached to the bow, you’d missed it but he lifted the dangling object for your inspection. A beautiful golden ring with what had to be the most enormous diamond you’d ever seen.
Your shocked watery gaze met Bucky’s impossibly blue eyes, “Only if you say yes too.”
The puppy leaped down from your lap, content to explore their new apartment as you slid down and onto Bucky’s lap. Arms wrapping around his shoulders and kissing him harder than you ever had before. Warmth blossomed in your chest as Bucky’s lips parted briefly with a light moan, kissing one another with dizzying urgency.
Gasping for air the two of you parted briefly, planting pecking kisses against one another lips.
“Is that a yes,” he husked, his hands sliding up and down your back.
“Yes, it’s a yes, Jamie.”
Grinning up at you, Bucky cradled you against him, “I didn’t know if you’d say yes.”
 “Of course I’d say yes,” you whispered, holding onto him tightly. “After all,  you did get me that puppy I’ve always wanted.”
A laugh escaped Bucky as he held you tightly and buried his face against your chest, his shoulders shaking in what could only be a relief, “Fuck, I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Blue-Eyes.”
END
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delaber · 1 year
Text
A Date (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
Summary: you have a date and Bucky’s not exactly happy about it.
Words: 3.8K
Trope: friends to lovers 💞 with a jealous Bucky trying his best to be brave, and failing horribly.
Notes: another fluff piece to mend Bucky’s heart ❤️ honestly, I have a problem with all these fluffy fics I’ve been writing recently. I just cannot stop myself lol.
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"You have a date?" he manages to splutter just before the panic takes over and makes his heart skip a few beats.
Fuck!
A fucking date?!
His fingers are slipping on the wet handle of the pan he's in the midst of cleaning, and in that moment, all he can think about is how happy he is that he's currently bent over the kitchen sink so you can't make out the shocked expression on his face.
You're nodding beside him, playing with the dishtowel you're holding but Bucky can hardly make out what you're saying when you return his question with a quiet "yeah".
His ears are ringing bells and he just wants to get the fuck out of there.
Silently, he's begging for you to stop talking. He doesn't want to know more. Doesn't want to hear what you've agreed to and who you're... - fuck, what if it's someone he knows?
What if it's Sam?!
Shit!
The panic in Bucky's chest runs amok! If he walks in on his two best friends fucking, he's gonna kill himself!
With dread, he realises that he has to know how careful he needs to be around the compound...
"With - uh - with whom?" he clears his throat and curls his toes in prepared mortification, his narrowed gaze firmly fixed on a wet piece of broccoli that's lying lonely and sad at the bottom of the sink.
Please don't say Sam, please don't say Sam...
"You know the cute guy from the coffee shop?" you answer proudly, and it makes Bucky's heart spring violently back to life. That guy??? "- he finally asked me."
Well, it's not Sam - yet somehow, it's worse.
Deep breath, he tells himself and plasters on a neutral expression as he looks up from the pan and directly into your eyes.
At least you look excited, he concludes as he takes in your dreamy little smile that's usually reserved for when vibranium fingers briefly brush over your warm skin but that he now has to share with... him. The moron in the green apron. Mr I'm-too-busy-flirting-with-your-girl-to-get-your-order-right.
Fuck, he's burning up!
"That's great, sweetheart," he hears himself croak from far away, trying his best to sound like he's happy for you and not as if his heart is in the process of being ripped out of his chest. "I'm real happy for you."
"Thanks, Buck," you playfully bump your hip against his while looking down at your hands as you once again twist the towel between your fingers.
You seem almost... nervous. This date must really be a big deal to you.
He gulps and pushes away another incoming wave of nausea. It's not as if he hasn't long ago accepted that nothing will ever happen between the two of you. You're friends. That's it.
"Are you excited?" He asks without really knowing why. He doesn't want to hear your answer. To hear you verbally confirm the look you already have on your face.
Slowly you look up at him and he has to chomp down on his inner cheek to keep himself from doing something stupid.
"You know what?" you ask quietly with a tilt of your head and Bucky's heart starts racing even harder. "- I actually am."
Even you sound surprised - not that Bucky can really blame you.
"Mmh," he merely hums and pretends there's a particularly stubborn area on the dirty pan that needs his attention.
"Is that weird?" You ask.
He can feel how the sincere question in your voice laces itself around his abdomen, squeezing him tight.
Is it wrong of him to want to snap the stupid piece of teflon-coated metal in his hand in half? You're his best friend and he should just be happy you're happy.
Fuck it, he is happy! He loves you more than anything and you deserve to feel this way - he just wishes it was because of him and not someone else.
"No, sweetheart," he mumbles, trying to untie the invisible knot behind his navel as he starts scrubbing again. "Why would it be weird?"
Thankfully, you don't answer.
...
Cold droplets of water are running over your forehead and down the length of your nose, desperately trying to reduce the tension that's been resting right between your eyebrows since your conversation with Bucky last night.
Splashing your face with water is a stupid attempt to make yourself feel better - you know that - it hasn't worked the other times you've tried it and this must be the tenth attempt since you woke up this morning. The only thing that'll truly help is if Bucky would tell you what's going on.
He's been acting weird since last night, and even though you aren't sure what reaction you'd been hoping for, this definitely isn't it. You know he isn't exactly the biggest fan of the man who's taking you out for dinner later, but getting so annoyed he can barely uphold a conversation? Well, that wasn't really a scenario you'd even considered at all...
You suppose you could just tell him the truth - maybe that would make him more accepting of your choice of date - but it's not as if you can really tell him that the only reason you're going on that date to begin with is to force yourself to get over, well, him.
You've known Bucky two years now and apart from small moments here and there, nothing's happened. It's been two excruciating years full of pining and painful almosts and ifs but he clearly doesn't look at you that way and you don't want to keep putting yourself through the heartbreak. You deserve to spend your friday nights with someone who actually sees you for what you are: beautiful, smart, desirable, a woman.
And as you stand looking at yourself in the mirror, you realise that you need this date to get Bucky out of your head. Fuck if he doesn't approve of the cute guy from the coffee shop. It's none of his business who you're going out with and if he wants to be annoyed about it, then so be it.
Yet you still cannot stand the thought of him sitting by himself all night. He hasn't seemed like himself all day and you know how he can spiral over the smallest of things.
Thus, you check for Sam in the kitchen, the gym, and in the spa area in the basement of the compound, but eventually find him in the common room on the third floor, completely hypnotised as he stares at the television screen in front of him, the playstation controller grabbed tightly in his hands.
You do a quick scan around the room to confirm that it's just the two of you before you approach him. "Wilson, have you seen Bucky today?"
"Bucky? Uh - no," Sam mumbles without moving his gaze away from the animated character who's running through an abandoned city. "I assume you've already tried the dark cave he calls his room?"
"I know where he is," you sigh and flop down on the sofa next to him, stretching your legs and putting your feet in his lap. "I was just hoping that maybe you'd talked to him."
He doesn't answer apart from a few incoherent noises you're sure are for the game and not for you, so you poke at the controller with your toes to get his attention. "Sam..."
"Hey! I'm trying to save humanity from a zombie apocalypse here. Keep your stinking feet away from me," he playfully flicks the underside of your foot without sparing you a glance. "I already told you I haven't seen your siamese twin all day."
"Yeah, but do you think you could... go check on him maybe?"
"I'm busy. You go check on him."
"Sam..."
At the sound of your soft-spoken words, Sam sends you a brief side-eye before he finally tosses the controller down on the sofa table with a loud sigh. "What'd you do?"
"I didn't do anything," you shake your head innocently. Is it really your fault that Bucky is too childish to accept the man you're going out with? No.
Sam runs his eyes over you and squints hard. "You guys are usually so dependent, you're practically joined at the hip. And now you want me to go talk to him even though you didn't do anything?"
"Look, he's being weird," you sigh, "- can you just check on him? Please? Maybe have a guy's night in with beer and that stupid zombie-game you're always playing or whatever?" you gesture to the television screen where the character from before stands panting, saying random stuff every few seconds. "I don't want him to be alone."
"First of all, The Last of Us is not stupid!" Sam raises his index finger at you, feigning an insulted huff. "Secondly; a guy's night in..? While you're doing exactly what if I may ask?" he arches an eyebrow, urging you to keep talking.
"I - uh - I have plans," you say quickly and try and look determined although you can feel your entire face heating up. "...a date of sorts."
The dead-panned look on Sam's face is quickly wiped off, instead replaced with an annoyingly broad smirk. "You have a what now?" he chuckles teasingly.
"You heard me," you roll your eyes.
"Oh I heard you loud and clear," he hoots, "you are going on a date!" he says, emphasising the last word with a wriggle of his eyebrows.
"Don't be a dick about it."
"My, oh my. We're finally gonna see what kind of man that can sweep the rug from underneath you."
"Okay, I'm leaving," you make a move to stand up, but Sam interrupts you by putting his palm to your shin.
"Come on, I'm just teasing," he laughs, "tell me about your date. Who's it with? - Not Bucky, I assume."
"Why would I go on a date with Buck?" you shrug nonchalantly although you can once again feel the heat radiating through your every feature. "It's the cute blonde from the coffee house down the street."
"Oooh, the guy who looks like a young Brad Pitt but with humour?"
"That's the one," you press down on your lips and avoid looking directly at Sam. God, this is embarrassing.
"He's a cutie!" Sam teases with a chuckle.
"I know," you play with a loose thread on your shirt, avoiding his eye.
"Then why aren't you more excited about it?" He asks but immediately emits a groan, "Jesus... do not tell me it's because of Bucky?!"
"I'm worried about him," you whine and bury your face in the sofa cushions.
Sam rolls his eyes. "You're going on your first date in forever and you're worried about that sourpuss?"
"Sam, you didn't see the look on his face when I told him about it! He hates the guy - I think it really upset him."
"Of course it upset him," Sam scoffs, "It's like taking candy away from someone who really wants to fuck said candy!"
Your eyes snap over to Sam in an instance. Completely taken off guard, your voice dies in your throat. Did he just...? No, surely, you must've misheard.
"Come on, don't pretend you haven't noticed," Sam groans, "I swear to god, he's two days away from crawling behind you just so he can lick the ground you're walking on!"
The earth has stopped spinning. "W-what?"
"The puppy eyes? The 'pick me' behaviour?" he rolls his eyes at your shocked face.
Your heart starts pounding so fast you can barely keep up. "Are we talking about... Bucky? As in our Bucky?"
"Uh, huh," Sam nods as if it's the most obvious thing on the planet. "That guy's practically begging you to take him by the hand and lead him to your bed. He's so in love with you, it's disgusting to look at."
"He's what?!" You exclaim loudly, completely out of breath. This is definitely news to you! "No, no, no! Bucky's not in love with me, we're friends," you pant with the blood rushing past your ears.
Sam shoots you an unimpressed side-eye, "yeah keep telling yourself that"
"What do you mean?" you pant, trying to puzzle together Sam's suspicion with your disbelief.
"I swear to god, the two of you don't even have a single brain cell put together..." he rolls his eyes, "I've seen that boy almost snap his neck because you were laughing and he wanted to know what you were laughing at. Trust me when I say that he's not annoyed that you're going on that date - he's jealous."
Well... fuck!
...
You don't think you've ever been this nervous as you pace the hallway outside Bucky's bedroom. You've been here ten minutes now, desperately trying to force yourself to actually make contact with him, but you're holding yourself back. There's so much on the line and what if Sam's incorrect? Then, you will truly have mucked up and everything between you and Bucky will be ruined.
Shit!
You stop pacing. You can hear his favourite album from the forties playing on the other side of the wall but apart from that, there hasn't been a single sound from in there.
You pray he's in a better mood than when you walked in on him angrily hunched over his bowl of cereal this morning, but the fact that he put on the only type of music that can calm him down, doesn't really scream 'put-together'.
It makes you even more nervous though you know you have to talk to him at some point. It's not as if you can avoid him forever - so before you can truly think about the upside of postponing the inevitable conversation, you raise your knuckles and carefully knock on his door.
Everything inside you tenses up. You vision becomes blurry, and you seem to automatically focus all your attention on the sounds coming from inside his room. There's a short shuffle, a sigh and then an irritated "what?!" muttered from somewhere behind the walls.
This is bound to go wrong.
You consider running away and pretend you've never even been near his room, but it's too late to back out now. You have to talk to him at some point, you remind yourself.
With your nerves running wild and the blood pumping through your every vein, artery, and fibre, you open the door a little and poke your head inside his room with a small "hi," your throat so dry it comes out as a hoarse whisper.
He's sitting on the bed with his long legs crossed at the ankles, his hand buried inside a book that's lying closed in his lap. He looks angry at everything and everyone - as if he's minutes away from strangling someone - but when he finds your eyes from across the room, the tense muscles in his cheeks seem to unclench a little.
"Oh, hey," he breathes and runs a hand through his hair in embarrassment, licking his lips. "I thought you were Sam..."
You smile, so relieved to see him softening that you automatically step inside his room without waiting for him to ask you to. "Sorry to disappoint."
"You're not," he shakes his head with a small gulp, "I thought you'd left already. Don't you have that big date?" he asks in a weird voice and sends you a stiff smile.
"Not until seven," you shrug and sit down next to him on his bed, immediately noticing how he's started avoiding your gaze.
"Right," he nods and occupies himself by putting his book on his bedside table. "So - uh - still looking forward to it?"
How do you tell your best friend that no, you're not looking forward to it because he's the one you really want to go out with?
"I don't know," you shrug, suddenly so anxious your temples have started pounding, "not really."
He finally looks up at you again, his slate blue eyes jittery as they meticulously search your face. "What happened?" He asks with tightly knitted eyebrows, "you were so excited for it yesterday."
You hesitate. "...Honestly?"
"Yeah, honestly," he sits up a little straighter, a serious look on his face, "- he didn't upset you, did he?" He says on impulse, his voice suddenly dark and dripping with venom at the mere thought as he reaches out for you and puts his fingers on your arm.
"No Buck," you shake your head and take a deep breath to get your pulse under control. "He didn't upset me."
"Then what?" He squeezes your arm softly, his eyes concerned as he tries to read you, "you can tell me anything."
"I know... It's just that..." you hesitate and consider ending your sentence with I'm in love with you, but the words die in your throat.
"What sweetheart?" he shuffles a little closer to you.
"Bucky," you heave a big breath of air to prepare your bold question that can potentially change everything between you dependant on his answer. "Do you not want me to go on that date?"
"What?" his eyes immediate travel over your face and you can almost hear his pulse running haywire as his fingers let go of your arm. "What makes you think that?"
"It's just..." your breathing picks up as you scan his every anxious feature. It makes you anxious too. "- you started acting weird the minute I told you about it. You've been avoiding me all day."
His fingers find your arm again, his grip a little tighter than before as he desperately looks at you. "No, no, no, sweetheart! That's not what happened," he licks his lips and plasters on the fake smile he's been practising in the mirror all day. "- I mean... I'm not the biggest fan of the guy but who you're dating is really none of my concern. I'm sure he's great, and as long as he treats you well, I'll make sure he stays on my good side," he says softy and sends you a smile that seems a little too genuine for your liking.
You hesitate again as you check his face for cracks, but his smile stays intact and happy. "...So you're really okay with it?" you ask in a small voice, mortified.
"Are you kidding me? Sweetheart, of course I'm okay with it!" he slides his fingers down your arm, capturing your hand inside his fist. "I really just want you to be happy. That's what's important. And you deserve to be taken care of for once instead of being stuck here with me and Sam." He reassuringly squeezes your fingers tight, but it just feels as if he's in the process of letting you go.
Slowly, you can feel your heart breaking.
You knew it... You knew Sam was wrong. Bucky isn't in love with you. Never has been. Never will be. Things are exactly the way they've always been and you're left pining after a man who doesn't want you back.
God, you feel like a idiot for getting your hopes up like that.
"Good," you nod resolutely, fighting hard to not let the heartbreak slip through your well-feigned mask. "I'm happy to hear you feel that way."
"Of course I do," he smiles solemnly.
"I should probably go get ready then..."
"Yeah," Bucky nods and lets go of you. "It's almost six."
With a sigh you hope he doesn't hear, you stand up from his bed and brush down the front of your jeans, not really sure you even want to leave his room.
He's looking up at you like a deer caught in headlights. "Have fun," he says while his hands grab the sheets underneath him, fisting the fabric. "- can't wait to hear all about it."
"Thanks, Buck," you feign a smile to match his, "I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you, sweetheart..."
You turn around with a wave of your hand, but the smile on your face falters the minute you've turned on your heel.
You can hear his heavy breathing over the music playing in the corner, and when you reach out for the door handle, a delicate sound finally breaks the reticence between you.
"Don't go..."
At first, you're not sure if you're imagining it, but then you hear him shuffling behind you, and when you turn around and face him, he's on his feet. "Don't go on that date," he whimpers in defeat, "I'm begging you. Please... don't go."
"Bucky..."
"I'm in love with you," he says guiltily with a gulp.
Your heart stops.
"- and I can't pretend I'm okay with you going on dates when I'm not."
You're completely speechless. You want to comment on everything. Run to him and proclaim that you're his. That you've always been his. But you're nailed to the spot and all that manages to escape your lips is a tight whimper.
"- I know it's probably not what you want to hear right now..." he closes his eyes and looks as if he's in pain. "And I know I'm risking everything by telling you this," he gulps, "but I've been keeping it in for so fucking long, trying to protect our friendship. I just can't keep pretending I don't want... more. It's stupid, I know."
"Bucky, it's not stupid," you finally manage to croak and it's as if the force that've been gluing you to the spot finally lets go. "It's not," you whisper as you take a few long strides over to him, stopping right before your chests touch. "It's not stupid," you repeat and reach a hand upwards, caressing his bearded chin.
His eyes are glistening, and his breathing is coming in ragged as he searches your face. "Sweetheart," he gulps in confusion, "I don't... - what does this mean?"
"It means -" your hand reaches up so it can rake through his hair, coming to a halt on the back of his neck where you can feel the goosebumps travel through his entire body. "- that I'm in love with you too. Have been for quite some time. Since I met you, actually."
Now it's his turn to be glued to the spot.
His mouth falls a little open and you can tell by the look on his face that he's in the process of questioning everything, so you underline your confession by putting your forehead to his. "I want to be yours," you whisper and observe him closely.
At first, he tenses even harder, but then a small smile starts tugging on his lips as he finally relaxes in your arms and pulls you closer. "I want you to be mine, too," he declares sweetly as his heart blossoms in his chest. He reaches down and kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead.
"It's you," he whispers against your skin, "- It's always been you."
"Kiss me," you beam and almost cannot stop smiling silly when you reach up for his mouth, finally claiming the softest, most pillowy lips you've ever had the pleasure of kissing.
4K notes · View notes
drabbles-mc · 1 month
Text
Out of Practice
Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
For the Alternate June-iverse prompt: milf/dilf
Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, steamy things, reader is a mom, bucky hasn't dated in like 70 years
Word Count: 7.7k
A/N: I had no idea what I was going to do for this prompt for the longest time but then tonight this all fell outta me in one sitting lmao. enjoy some cameos from Sam and Tony! And thanks again to @buckybarnesevents and @rookthorne for putting this event together 💖
MCU Taglist: @garbinge @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
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Bucky was standing at the bottom of the walkway that led to the main doors of the school. Despite the warmth that came from the late spring weather, he still had on his leather jacket and gloves. He was far from the only person standing out and waiting for the final bell to ring, but he still felt like he stood out. No matter how much time went by that was a feeling he had yet to shake.
He pried his eyes off the cracked concrete beneath his boots when the bell rang, shortly followed by the front doors of the school being pushed open by dozens upon dozens of kids desperate to get out and head home. Many of them were sprinting off towards the buses, but some were making a direct line right where Bucky was standing with the rest of the parents and other family members. He kept his eyes peeled, but he still didn’t see who he was looking for.
A couple minutes ticked by and for a moment he wondered if he had shown up at the wrong place, or on the wrong day. He was about to take his phone out of his pocket when the front door opened up again. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Morgan walking out, jacket tied around her waist and backpack settled on her shoulders. She was looking up at the woman next to her, the two of them talking as the woman balanced a child who looked like she was just barely old enough to be in kindergarten on her hip.
When Morgan looked away, she immediately saw Bucky. A smile broke out across her face as she threw a hand up to wave, an expression and gesture that he returned. He took a few steps so that he met her right where the walkways met. She walked right up to him, holding both hands out in closed fists. Bucky’s grin widened slightly as he held his fists out as well, tapping their knuckles together before the both pulled their hands back, making an exploding sound and gesture as they did.
Once they completed their ritual, Bucky turned his attention to you. You were smiling at the sight of the two of them, but he could see the questioning look still lingering in your eyes. “You must be Uncle Bucky, then?” you asked, although the answer seemed fairly obvious.
He chuckled, looking briefly at Morgan before he returned his attention back to you. “Yeah, but just Bucky is fine.”
He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did so carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping child on your hip as you gave him your name in return. “Hope you don’t mind me bringing her out.” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “Just like to make sure that everything’s alright when someone new is picking up one of my students.”
“I tried to tell her you weren’t new,” Morgan interjected, her sarcasm making her sound so much like her father despite only being nine years old.
You shook your head with a knowing smile. “New to me, then,” you corrected.
“It’s fine,” Bucky said with a small shake of his head. “I get it.”
“I appreciate that.” You looked back and forth between the two of them, an odd but fitting pair. “I’ll let you two go. It was nice to meet you, Bucky.” You shifted your gaze to the young girl standing beside him. “And I will see you on Monday, Miss Morgan.”
Morgan was already saying goodbye and turning to head off towards Bucky’s care by the time the words left your mouth. Bucky, however, was still staring at you, looking at the way you were balancing the little girl on one hip while you had her backpack on the opposite shoulder, your own bag hanging in the crook of your arm. He knew that this was probably far from the first time you left the school building with your hands full but he still felt like it was wrong to not at least offer to help.
“Do you need help with—”
“I’ve got it,” you reassured him with a smile, taking a step towards the parking lot, “but thank you.”
He didn’t try to offer again, taking your word for what it was worth. Turning, he easily collapsed the distance between himself and Morgan in one stride, and the two of them started walking off towards his car. You heard the two of them talking as they walked away. Or, rather, you heard Morgan talking about her day and Bucky chiming in with a word of acknowledgment. You cast a couple brief looks at them as you walked over to your car, smiling at the sight of them.
You returned your focus to the task at hand as you tried to get your daughter into her booster seat in the back of your car. You weren’t too worried, since she had luckily been a heavy sleeper ever since she was born, but you still tried to be extra careful. You were clicking her seatbelt into place when you heard Bucky’s car engine rumbling to life.
You caught a glimpse through your own car’s windshield as they drove by, Morgan sitting behind the empty passenger seat of Bucky’s car. They were out of you line of sight as quickly as they’d entered it. When they were gone again you set both your bag and your daughter’s on the floor by her feet.
~*~
“Ew, no,” Morgan said as she shook her head, her and Bucky looking at each other through the rearview mirror, “he’s gross. All the boys in my grade are.”
Bucky laughed, nodding. “Your dad will be happy to hear that.”
“I don’t even want a boyfriend.”
Bucky fought to the urge to give his knee-jerk response which would’ve been, “Well, yeah, you’re fucking nine.” Instead, he asked, “You tell him that?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “He went and asked Chrissy instead.”
“Worked out for you,” Bucky said, throwing his directional on before turning onto the main road away from the school. “You don’t need a boyfriend—you’re fine.”
“Dad says that you need a girlfriend.”
Bucky nearly choking on the breath he was pulling in. His eyes drifted from the road and back to the mirror to look at her. “What?”
“What?” she parroted back to him, blissfully unaware of why he reacted that way. “That’s what he said.”
Bucky was shaking his head, gaze fixed back on the road once more. “Yeah? Well your dad’s a—”
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” she asked.
Bucky chuckled, a genuine sound. “Ever? Yeah.”
“This century?”
His eyebrows raised, surprised but also not. “You gotta stop listening to your dad all the time.”
A wide grin blossomed across her face. “But have you?”
He shook his head. “I thought we were cool,” he said sarcastically.
Morgan laughed hard enough at that to usher them into another topic of conversation with the rest of the drive home. Bucky went the long way, swinging through McDonald’s on the way since he was told that was fine this time around. It killed a little more time anyway, which was really what he needed. The only reason that he has the one enlisted to go and pick Morgan up in the first place was because Tony and Pepper were both running late with work. Not terribly so, but late enough that they didn’t want to ask her teacher to stay and wait.
Even with the extra stop planned in, and the most scenic route as possible taken, it still didn’t take them very long to get home. Before either of them could think much of it Bucky was rolling into Tony and Pepper’s driveway.
Bucky had just put the car in park when Morgan jumped out of the car, backpack strap in one hand and happy meal in the other. Bucky shook his head at her, laughing as he got out of the car much slower than she had. He finally felt comfortable enough to take off his gloves, tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans as he walked towards Tony’s porch.
Morgan had left the door opened behind her, so Bucky walked through and closed it as he did. When he looked around the room he saw that Morgan had already made her way over to her father and gotten swept off the ground in a hug.
As Tony was setting her back down on the floor, he asked, “You got some extra fries for me, right?”
Morgan laughed. “No way.”
Tony faked deep offense at her response. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”
Bucky piped in. “I didn’t get you any either, for the record.”
Tony smirked. “That much I expected.”
Morgan looked around the room a little more, and when she didn’t see Pepper, she asked, “Where’s Mom?”
Tony gestured deeper into the house. “She’s out back.”
Morgan tossed both her backpack and her McDonald’s box of food onto the counter. “I’m gonna go say hi!” She pointed at Tony. “Don’t eat my fries.” She turned and pointed at Bucky. “Don’t let him eat my fries.”
Bucky gave a small salute. “Yes ma’am.”
When Morgan had scampered out of the room, Tony’s full attention shifted to Bucky. “Thanks for picking her up—I know it was short-notice.”
Bucky shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“Went okay?”
He nodded. “Teacher came out to make sure I wasn’t some kidnapper, but yeah, it went okay.”
Tony chuckled as he opened the fridge. “Figured she would.” He grabbed a beer for himself and offered one to Bucky, when he declined he shrugged with a suit yourself expression and let the door fall shut.
“Why’s your nine-year-old telling me I need to get a girlfriend?” Bucky asked as he watched Tony pop the cap off the bottle.
Tony didn’t miss a beat. “My guess is because you need to get a girlfriend.”
“Tony—”
“You met her teacher then, right?” Tony shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “She’s single. And cu—”
Bucky’s tone shifted drastically as he repeated himself. “Tony.”
The hand that wasn’t holding the beer bottle was held up in mock surrender. “I’m just saying.”
“That why you sent me to pick her up? Is Happy even busy?”
Tony laughed. “Like Happy would ever be too busy to get Morgan from school.”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Oh my fuc—”
“Watch it.” Tony lifted the hand he was holding the bottle with, pointing accusingly at him. “There are little ears in the house.”
Bucky sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t need you playing matchmaker.” He leaned forward, bracing his forearms against the smooth dark stone-top of the island. “And I definitely don’t need you roping in your nine-year-old to help.”
“I actually didn’t tell her to say anything to you.”
“I don’t need you talking to her about my love life at all.”
“I was talking to Pepper about it. But hey,” he took another sip, “little ears hear everything.”
He watched as Bucky chuckled in disbelief. Tony knew that it wasn’t his place to say or do anything, that out of everyone he was probably close to the bottom of the list when it came to people who had the right to give dating advice. Even with that being the case, though, Tony had been watching Bucky muddle through and get along without ever really learning to get close to anyone since everything happened with Steve. He was gone now, and while Bucky might’ve accepted that, he still hadn’t really made any moves to let new people in. A girlfriend wouldn’t solve all of those issues, as Pepper had swiftly told him. But it probably also wouldn’t hurt, as Tony had told her in response.
“Gonna make me go to parent-teacher night next?” Bucky asked, his tone light enough to let Tony know that it wasn’t going to turn into an argument for the time being.
“Don’t be ridiculous—you’re not ready for anything more than an open house.”
He scoffed out a laugh. “Thanks.”
They both had plenty more comments to make about the topic but they let it drop as Morgan re-entered the room, Pepper in tow right behind her. Bucky and Tony exchanged a knowing look, one that confirmed that their conversation as on hold for now. Pepper caught it, but knew enough to know not to ask. Instead, she started a new conversation by thanking Bucky for picking Morgan up. He stayed long enough to make a little small talk before excusing himself, making sure to give Morgan another double fist-bump before heading for the door.
“I’ll walk you out,” Tony said, leaving his half-empty beer bottle on the counter.
Bucky knew exactly what Tony was doing, but didn’t say anything. The two of them slipped out the door, and Tony followed him down off the porch and all the way to his car.
When he realized that Bucky wasn’t going to say anything about any of it, he spoke up himself. “I could probably get her number for you.”
“Don’t.”
“Why not? You don’t think she’s—”
“That has nothing to do with it and you know it,” Bucky cut him off. “Just leave it alone, Tony.”
“Mmm.” He shook his head. “Don’t think I can do that. Matter of national security at this point—you’re left unattended an awful lot.”
“And you think I need an elementary teacher to keep me company?”
“She knows how to wrangle kids and keep ‘em in line—sounds perfect for you.”
“Don’t say anything to her.”
Tony stared at Bucky for a long, hard minute. “Fine.”
Bucky didn’t believe it for a second but be also knew that continuing to argue about it wasn’t going to fix anything either. “Thanks.”
They exchanged a quick handshake and a brief goodbye, and soon enough, Bucky was on his way. The drive back to his apartment felt longer than usual, his thoughts wandering in the silence of the car since he didn’t make any move to turn the radio on. He thought about you, not that he would ever give Tony the satisfaction of knowing that, the way you smiled as you balanced your daughter on your hip. He thought about the apparent ease there was between you and Morgan. He thought about your dress and the way it fell just above your knees, the way the bright colors looked so nice and seemed so fitting.
Then he shook his head to dispel the thoughts. Tony was just in his head now, having him overthink about a woman he’d met for all of two minutes. The likelihood of him seeing you again wasn’t very high, not unless Tony started asking him to play chauffer for Morgan a lot more often, and somehow he didn’t really see that happening.
When he walked into his apartment, Bucky was immediately greeted by Alpine running up and rubbing against his legs. He chuckled, crouching down so that he could give him a light scratch behind his ears. Part of it was because Alpine was happy to have his owner home, Bucky was sure. But the other part was about the fact that it was definitely past Alpine’s usual dinnertime. Bucky understood all of that.
“I know,” his metal fingers can down Alpine’s spine, causing him to arch and purr, “I’m late.”
The next few minutes was just Bucky hanging up his jacket, giving Alpine his dinner, and then pulling something out of the freezer to cook for his own dinner as well. While he was waiting for the oven to finish pre-heating, the only sound that could be heard was Alpine crunching on his kibble as he stood above his bowl. Bucky watched him for a moment, a small smile on his face at the simplicity of the life he had now. Something that for a long time he didn’t think he would ever have.
It was a good life. It was quieter now than it had been for a long time—he was almost used to it. But maybe Tony was right, not that Bucky would ever tell him as much in so many words, but there might’ve been something to what Tony had been trying to tell him. A truth that was simpler to ignore because continuing on as he had been required far less work than trying to get to know someone, trying to let someone get to know him.
He pulled his phone out, tempted to search your name just to see what would pop up, what he would be able to learn about you. Then he stopped himself, shaking his head to try and dispel the thoughts. What good would it do? Why was he thinking like you were someone he knew already? Or like you were someone that already knew him? For all he knew, you’d forgotten him already. Hell, for all he knew you had no desire to get to know anyone, let alone someone like him. The beeping of his oven saved him from going down that spiral any further.
~*~
Sam was sitting on the stool to Bucky’s left. The music in the bar was loud, but not so much so that they had to shout to talk to each other. But once Bucky processed the sentence that Sam had just spoken to him, he instantly wished that the music was loud enough so that he couldn’t hear the other man at all.
Bucky pulled a long drink from the beer bottle in his hand, gloved fingers wrapped tightly around the neck of it. “Can’t believe he got you in on this shit too.”
Sam shrugged, unfazed by Bucky’s blatant annoyance. “I’m just sayin’, I think the guy might have a point.”
“Since when do you agree with Stark?”
Sam laughed. “I’ll agree with anybody if I think they’re right!” He paused, studied the look on Bucky’s face and then added on with a laugh, “Well, yeah, not you. But other people.”
Bucky tried to keep his annoyed expression but then chuckled. “Fuck you.”
Sam wasn’t going to let the conversation get derailed. “Alright, so you don’t like the girl he was telling you about, so why don’t you—”
“I didn’t say—”
“They got apps for that now. Oh, sorry,” Sam held up his hand in a pausing motion, “Apps are things that you can put on your pho—”
Bucky’s brows knit together. “I know what apps are.”
Sam allowed himself a minute to laugh at his own joke before saying, “So it’s not the girl. Then, what? Afraid you left all your game back in the forties?”
He shook his head, eyes suddenly glued down to his beer bottle. “Sure, yeah. Something like that.”
“Want my advice?”
“No.”
Sam gave it anyway. “Get over it.” He ignored the increasingly annoyed look on Bucky’s face. “Go buy a girl a drink. Ask her for her number. Use whatever corny line you used back in the nineteen hundreds the last time you had to pretend to have some game.”
Bucky didn’t want to laugh but he couldn’t stop himself. Sam might’ve been oversimplifying but Bucky was also vaguely aware of the fact that he was overcomplicating things for himself. “I’ll think about it. But,” he paused to point at Sam accusingly while he grabbed a sip of his beer, “I didn’t have to pretend to have game. I had it—have. I have it.”
Sam raised his eyebrows. “Riiiight.”
The topic dropped, and they moved onto talking about other things. There were frequent pauses in the conversation, both of them turning to look at people coming into the bar. Neither of them ever thought they would fully break that habit, no matter how often they went out into the world as civilians.
The door let out a quiet chime, and Bucky’s head instinctively snapped in the direction to see who was coming in. His eyes widened and he stopped himself in the middle of the sentence that he was saying to Sam. There was no brain to mouth filter as he let out a quiet, “Shit.”
Sam’s face contorted in confusion as he turned to see what it was that had Bucky reacting that way. He looked over, his confusion immediately shifting into a smug grin when he saw you standing in the doorway. Bucky hadn’t even given Sam a description of what you looked like, but he could tell from Bucky’s reaction that there was no way that you could possibly be anyone else.
“Talk about good timing,” Sam joked.
Bucky was still staring at you, not that you’d noticed, as he spoke to Sam. “Shut up.”
“Now’s the time.”
He fought the urge to shove him off the stool. “I said shut up.”
You were only a couple steps inside the bar, you phone clutched tightly in one hand as you looked around the semi-tight space. The focused furrow of your brow said that you were looking for someone. The tight black jeans and lacy grey top you were wearing said that you were probably looking for your date. There were five million reasons Bucky felt his mouth go dry and none of them were doing him any good.
He saw the rise and fall of your shoulders as you let out a sigh. You typed on your phone for a moment before making your way over to the bar, carefully weaving your way through the clusters of other patrons. The closer you got, the more Bucky hoped that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. You were so focused on getting to the bar and snagging a rare empty seat, that you didn’t even notice that the seat was next to him until after you’d ordered your drink. You wouldn’t have looked in his direction at all if you hadn’t heard someone laughing.
When you turned, the first thing you saw was Bucky, the familiar face and leather jacket. The next thing you noticed was the man on the other side of him, the source of said laughter. You tilted your head as your eyes made their way back to Bucky. You allowed yourself a laugh of your own. “Bucky?”
He nodded, clearing his throat. “H-hey. Yeah, hi.”
“So funny seeing you here!” You paused, looking back and forth between him and the man next to him. “How are you?”
He nodded again, pulling the words up one by one. “Good. I’m good. You?”
“I’m, um,” you chuckled awkwardly, “I’m alright, I think? Supposed to be meeting someone here but,” you glanced around, “I don’t see them yet.”
The man on the other side of Bucky leaned across him and held his hand out. “I’m Sam, by the way.” He flashed you a charming grin. “Not the person you were looking for, but figured I’d introduce myself anyway since this guy wasn’t going to.”
You laughed as you told him your name. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”
The three of you chit-chatted, and you tried not to think too much about the way that Bucky was looking at you. You were putting too much thought into it, you were certain. Maybe you were just projecting, taking all the growing disappointment you were feeling about your supposed “date” still not being there and channeling it into the way that Bucky seemed to be so attentively listening to you.
Taking another sip from the straw in your drink, you checked the time on your phone one more time. Letting out a deep sigh, you looked over at Bucky, and Sam too. “I’m glad I ran into you two tonight, because from the looks of it the person that I came out to see is not showing up.” You shoved your phone back into the pocket of your jeans with a shake of your head.
“He’s an idiot,” Sam chimed in without hesitation.
You laughed and nodded. “I appreciate the sentiment.” You finished off your drink and you didn’t try to dissuade the bartender who was grabbing your glass and heading off to make you another. Looking back at the two of them, you said, “My friends were the ones who convinced me to get on those stupid dating apps anyway.” You shook your head. “Lotta good it did, huh?”
Bucky nodded, shooting a pointed look at Sam as he said, “Yeah, I know the feeling.”
Sam was laughing, but Bucky noticed the way that he was moving to throw some cash down on the bar. He gathered up his jacket as he got off the stool. “Well, not to be the bearer of more bad news, but I gotta take off.” He clapped Bucky on the shoulders as he walked by. “But you two crazy kids stay out and have some fun. It was very nice to meet you.” He flashed the two of you another grin. “Call if you need bail money. Not me, but, you know, call somebody.”
You laughed as you and Bucky each said goodbye to him. The two of you watched him as he practically skipped out of the bar and out onto the street. Bucky was caught between wishing he could chase Sam down and tackle him, and wishing he could skip right out the door alongside him. There was no buffer between the two of you anymore, and Bucky felt so strangely exposed.
“Sorry about your date,” Bucky finally offered up.
You smiled good-naturedly. “I’m not that heartbroken over it,” you said honestly as the bartender set your fresh drink down in front of you. “My expectations were pretty low, but, you know,” you took a sip, “not so low that I assumed he wasn’t gonna be here.”
Bucky chuckled. “That’s fair.”
“Honestly, I’m just more pissed off that I wasted one of my few free weekend evenings on some guy who didn’t even bother texting me to cancel.”
“Few?”
You smiled as you said, “My daughter. Every other week she’s with her dad. I miss her when she’s gone, so I try to stay busy. Usually with friends, but every now and then it’s some pipe-dream of a date.” You took another sip. “They usually do show up, though, at the risk of making myself sound horrible desperate,” you joked.
Bucky laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
Your smile softened a touch, but it was still there. “Well, thank you for that at least.”
You had every intention of finishing off your drink, paying your tab, and heading right home. You weren’t typically one for staying out all hours in a bar or a club somewhere, even when you were out with your friends. And, as nice as it was that you had a chance run-in with Bucky when everything else seemed to be going wrong, you were still ready to turn it in and go home. Back to your pajamas and fuzzy blankets.
That’s not what happened, however, despite your best intentions. Somewhere along the way you switched from cocktails to soda just for the sake of being able to stay longer without getting too much of a buzz as you talked to Bucky. He wasn’t exactly a chatterbox, per se, and you hadn’t really expected him to be. The two of you managed to keep up a good pace of back and forth regardless of that. He did a little more listening than he did talking but it didn’t seem to bother him. It also made you realize that even though you had your friends, and your fellow teachers at school, there weren’t a whole lot of times when you went out to socialize with other adults. It also didn’t hurt that Bucky was so nice to look at, that he seemed to be just as interested in looking right back at you.
You’d both lost track of time as you sat there, and when you were both finally making your way towards the door of the bar, it was much later than either of you had bargained for. The two of you walked, and Bucky pulled the door open for you. The two of you were mid-conversation when you landed back out on the sidewalk. It was only then that you realized you probably weren’t going to be heading in the same direction.
Bucky watched as you motioned back over your shoulder, the opposite direction from the way he was heading. “I’m parked this way, but, it was really good seeing you. What are the chances, right?” You laughed lightly.
He smiled, nodded. “Yeah. It was, um,” he could feel the words that he wanted to say resting on the tip of his tongue and he was conflicted about whether or not he wanted to actually say them, “it was good to see you again.” He paused, hating every bit of hesitation that he was feeling. “Do you, um, I was wondering,” he was reaching for the pocket of his jacket for his phone as he fumbled his way through the question, “I mean on your next free weekend…”
You felt your face warm as he continued on. You knew where the line of questioning was going, and part of you knew that maybe you should put him out of his misery. But it was sweet, and you were enjoying that. Finally, you nodded. “That’d be nice.”
He let out a sigh of relief as he took his phone out. “Great. Okay, yeah. I’ll…I’ll call you. You know,” he managed a smile with a little more ease, “save you from all the apps.”
You laughed as you typed your name and number in. “You’re a lifesaver.”
In the back of his mind he knew that he should be making some sort of move now. Walk you to your car, give you a hug, something. But if asking for your number was as difficult as it had proven itself to be, he didn’t know what it was going to be like trying to manage anything else. So he took the win, and bid you goodnight.
Over the course of the next couple days, he was caught between wanting to tell both Tony and Sam separately that he’d gotten your number. He thought maybe it would help get them off his back. What he didn’t want, though, was for them to just get on his case about a whole new slew of things. He also didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they’d been right.
So, instead of reaching out to either of them, he texted you instead. It was casual at first, just brief messages here and there. Texting wasn’t his favorite way to stay in touch with people, but he at least recognized that it was what people did now.
He called you once, when he wanted to actually try and make plans to see you. That conversation wasn’t one that he wanted to have over text, and he told you as much. You also found that to be sweet as well. It wasn’t a long conversation, one taking place while you made dinner and your daughter was busy with her toys in the living room. But the two of you settled on a date, a time, and that he would come by your place to pick you up. You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled so much while making pasta.
~*~
“Tony is never gonna let you hear the end of this when he finds out,” Sam said as he sat down at Bucky’s kitchen counter.
“Yeah, I know,” Bucky grabbed drinks out of his fridge. “That’s why I haven’t said anything to him about it.”
“Nothing?!”
“No!” Bucky said, breaking down into laughter after a moment. “You gonna tell him?”
“What, you think that we’re texting about you all the time?” Sam shook his head. “Get over yourself.”
Bucky was about to come back with something snarky as per usual when his phone chimed on the counter. Sam looked, too nosey to stop himself. The grin that spread across his face when he saw your name on the screen. At the look on Sam’s face, Bucky’s instinct was to reach and flip the phone over, but he stopped himself. Instead, he grabbed his phone and messaged you back before setting it down.
“You wanna call me while you’re getting ready?” Sam joked. “I’ll help you pick out an outfit. Tell you how to do your hair.”
Bucky chuckled. “Fuck you.”
~*~
He didn’t call Sam before the date. He also hadn’t heard anything from Tony which led him to believe that Sam had been kind enough to keep his mouth shut. That was all well and good, but he wished that it did anything to soothe the nerves that he was feeling as he stood outside your door.
He felt like an awkward sixteen-year-old again as he stood on your front step. He rang the doorbell, flowers clutched tightly in his hand as he waited. He’d spoken to you earlier, and you had seemed excited about it all still. That gave him hope. But again, it still wasn’t enough to eradicate the lingering feelings of anxiety he had.
Another few seconds passed by and then you pulled open the door. You were smiling at him as you were trying to do the latch on your necklace. “Hey! Sorry, I still have to get my shoes on and stuff. Please,” you stepped back and nodded for him to step inside, “come in. I’ll be ready in like, two minutes.”
He smiled as he somewhat nervously followed your instructions, stepping just past the threshold of your house. “Take your time,” he said calmly as he shut the door behind him.
He looked around while you finished putting on your jewelry and went to grab your shoes. He wasn’t sure what he had been picturing your house looking like, but what he saw felt fitting. It was tidy considering how young your daughter was. There were some toys scattered about in patches, framed photos on the walls and drawings tacked onto the fridge by magnets. It was a home in a way that none of Bucky’s places since he came back had ever been.
“Okay,” you said as you reappeared, smoothing out your blouse, “I’m ready. Sor—” you stopped short when you finally noticed the bouquet of flowers in his hand. The smile on your face was wide enough to make your cheeks hurt. “Those are beautiful.”
Bucky’s eyes widened for a moment, like he’d forgotten that he had them. He held them out to you. “Just figured, you know…”
You smiled as you took them, flitting off to the kitchen so that you could put them in a vase with water. “Thank you.”
As the two of you drove, you could feel him slowly starting to relax. The two of you talked, and you could see the way that his grip on the steering wheel started to become less vice-like. There was something refreshing in the way that he opened the car door for you, and the door to the diner that the two of you had agreed on. He sat down across from you in the booth and you noticed the way that he still had his gloves on as he looked through the menu. You wanted to ask but you didn’t—if he wanted to say something about it you had a feeling that he would.
The conversation felt easy, the same way it had been that night at the bar. The only difference now was the feeling in the air. There was a different kind of tension now that hadn’t been there before. Sure, you’d been attracted to him even then, but that hadn’t been a date. Not like this.
Every now and then if one of you shifted in your seat and your feet or legs would brush. Neither of you said anything about it, but you could feel the upward curl of your own lips as it happened, the occasional pink flush of Bucky’s cheeks. Sometimes it’d make him stumble in his sentence and you’d do him the courtesy of not commenting on it.
The two of you were splitting a piece of pie for dessert, something you insisted on because you knew the woman who baked them for the diner. It wasn’t as though Bucky put up any great fight about it. The closer the two of you got to finishing it, the more you engaged in low-stakes warfare, dueling with your forks over the pieces with the best crust-to-filling ratio.
“You can have the last bite,” you conceded with a laugh, leaning back in the booth.
“Oh, come on,” he joked, “it doesn’t feel good to win by forfeit.”
You laughed, warmth blossoming up your neck and across your face. “It’s not forfeit. Think of it as, I don’t know,” you drummed your fingers against the tabletop, “me being nice since it was your first time here.” You paused, studying the amused look on his face. “That better?”
He shrugged, a smirk on his face. “Little bit.”
The two of you walked back out to his car, and you found yourself walking much closer to his side than you had been on the way in. Your arm brushed against his as the two of you walked, and you found yourself about half a step away from leaning into his side.
He reached to open the car door for you, but before he could you leaned back against it so that you were facing him. You let one arm hang by your side, with the other you brought your palm so that it rested against his chest, pads of your fingertips pressing lightly against the leather.
Bucky almost pulled away out of reflex, but he didn’t. “Yes?”
You shook your head, still smiling. “Nothing, nothing.” You let your hand drop, the pads of your fingers dragging for a moment before your arm was back at your side once more. You moved just enough so that he could open the door again for you. “Thank you.”
Bucky walked you up to the door of your house, and he felt like his heart was beating clean up into the back of his throat. He didn’t remember dating being this nerve-wracking before. You seemed perfectly unfazed, though as you sauntered up and slipped your key into the lock.
“You wanna come in?” you offered as you opened the door. “Have a drink?”
It took more effort to swallow than it should have. “Oh. Yeah, sure.”
You chuckled. “If you don’t want to—”
“I do,” he reassured, his voice earnest.
Your smiled grew. “Okay.” You stepped and waved him in with you. “C’mon.” You noticed the way that he still had his jacket and gloves on when you came back out of the kitchen with a bottle in each hand. You handed one over to him. “Nothing fancy, but it’s also usually just me drinking them, so…”
He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s fine.”
There were a few beats of silence, each of you sipping out of your bottles before you said, “You don’t do this a lot, do you?”
His eyes widened for a moment, slight panic. “What?”
Your smile was warm as you gestured with your hand that held the bottle. “This. Dates. Not…not your thing, is it?”
He held the bottle between both his hands. “I’m…out of practice, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “That noticeable?”
You shook your head. “Not really. You just seemed, I don’t know, a little nervous. And I don’t know why a guy who looks like you would have any reason to be nervous on a date other than…”
“Other than I don’t go on them,” he finished with a soft laugh.
Your face heated up as you smiled. “Kinda.”
“How’d I do?” he asked, mostly joking.
You stepped in closer to him, noticing a different kind of tension in his body. “You’re doing great.”
He huffed out a laugh but it was much softer than he intended, betraying more of his real feelings than he bargained for. “This part?” He made a small gesture between you. “This part I’m really,” he forced out a puff of air through his teeth, “yeah.”
There was a flutter of butterflies in your stomach, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Want some help?”
He laughed but he didn’t say no, didn’t move away. He swallowed hard as you took the bottle from his hand and set them both on the coffee table in your living room. He was fighting hard to say something—ideally something smooth but at this point he would’ve settled for just about anything. Within seconds you were standing close to him again, bodies a breath away from being pressed flush against each other. Your hands rested on his chest for a moment, and you waited to see if he would change his mind and pull away—you were giving him the chance. But then you felt his hands tentatively land on your hips and you smiled, your body easing against his. You brought one hand up to the side of his face, thumb caressing his cheekbone.
“Not so bad,” you asked softly, “right?”
He shook his head, finally forcing out a quiet, “No, it’s not.”
You smiled and leaned in, lightly pressing your lips to his. It was delicate, fleeting—you were pulling away as quickly as you’d leaned in. The sliver of space left between your lips and his was the silent ask for him to let you know if this was the end of the night or not. He could pull away from you, no harm no foul, or he could lean in and kiss you again and figure it out from there.
It felt like you were both holding your breath for a moment, faces just too close to be able to get a good look in each other’s eyes. You were about to pull back to really look at him when he leaned in and kissed you, more conviction than the quick gesture from before. You readily gave into him, hand sliding from his cheek to the back of his head to keep him pulled to you. As his lips moved against yours, one of his hands slid so that it was resting at the center of the small of your back.
The two of you stayed like that in the middle of your living room, all locking lips and wandering hands. You would’ve let the entire night fall away spent just like that and been more than fine with it. When the two of you finally came back up for air, when Bucky pulled away from you enough to really look into your eyes, you saw that more than anything he was surprised. Maybe it was at you, maybe it was at himself, but regardless it was there. Underneath that, though, you could see that there was something more. His hand that wasn’t on the small of your back came up to cup your chin, the leather of his gloves smooth to the touch against your skin. He tilted your chin just slightly and then your lips were back on his again.
Out of instinct you tugged down the zipper of his jacket. Your hands came up to his shoulders, getting ready to push his jacket down off of them. It was only then that he pulled away from you again, breathless as he desperately searched your face.
“What?” you asked gently, pausing your movements.
“Nothing, nothing. I,” he pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment. “I wasn’t expecting…I just…”
“If it’s too much,” you said, taking a small step back, “we can—”
“No,” he stopped you short, shaking his head. “It’s not that. I just…” He took a breath. “Do you know? Who I am?”
You chuckled. “You’re friends with Iron Man and Falcon. I,” you shrugged, “I connected some dots along the way.”
He laughed, a sound of relief. “A lot of people don’t…you know…”
“A lot of people don’t have people from The Avengers dropping off school snacks once a week.” You paused and let both of you laugh. Allowing your tone to get a little more serious, you said, “I know, Bucky,” you moved once more to push his jacket down off his shoulders, “and it’s okay.”
He allowed you to do it, allowed his jacket to drop to the floor. Even with the long-sleeve shirt that he had on underneath, you could see the difference between his arms. You brought your hands to his, helping him pull the gloves off next. He was holding his breath—you could tell. When his gloves were off you ran your fingers along each of his palms, skin and metal, with equal delicate care.
When you looked into his eyes again you saw the way he was looking at you—bewildered, eager. You brought one hand back to his face again, urging him back towards you. It was a cue that he gladly took, kissing you with fervor. His hands were on your sides, and when he felt the way your other hand was running up his arm, he couldn’t stop himself, from letting his hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt.
It’d been so long, he realized as his hands roamed your sides and back, since he’d last felt someone like this. When your fingers slid underneath the collar of his shirt, splaying across what they could reach where the nape of his neck turned stretched into his shoulders, he also realized that it’d been a long time since he’d let someone feel him like this too.
All the nerves, the tension of the night, it all started to melt away as he felt you reaching for the bottom hem of his shirt to pull off over his head. He didn’t want to stop you, and he knew that that meant something. Maybe they’d all been right—maybe there was something to letting someone else in again. As he felt the warmth of your palms against his skin, he could only hope that the rest of it felt this good too.
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Need You Now
Summary: Bucky is an insatiable, greedy man and now he can't wait to show you how much fun you're going to have making a baby with him. And he's going to want to practice again and again.
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Gif by @pleaseme-bucky
Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader
CW: Smt, Breeding, Praise, Ovestimulation, Bucky's filthy mouth. He's 6'6" and beefy, teeny bit of c*m play.
Word count: 1.8K
AN: Beta'd by the lovely @flordeamatista .
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Bucky has always been a little obsessed, a little insatiable it comes to you.
You’ve never had a man so devoted, always putting your happiness first. He proudly admits that his world revolves around you. And the Alpha in him means he doesn’t want to share you with anyone.
If he had his way, he’d spend every waking moment with you, inside you, worshiping you, caring for you, loving you. Every night spent with you curled up next to him, his arm around your waist, nothing but blankets tangled between the two of you.
He likes to blame you for this particular fixation of his.
The sweet omega who brought the elusive alpha to his knees turning his plans of lifelong bachelorhood into wedding bells, candlelight dinners, date nights and lazy Saturdays on the couch with his favorite girl. It’s your fault for being so damn irresistible, for making him dream of a life he never thought possible, one so much better than the one he had planned for himself. 
Bucky has never been addicted to a single thing in his life. 
Until you. 
Your sweet scent, rich cherry with hints of vanilla, is infused in his veins and lingers on his skin like a tattoo. Those soft, whimpery sounds you make when he’s inside you are almost as alluring as the way your eyes glaze over, rolling back when he finds an especially good spot, almost as irresistible as the way you cling to him, clawing his back when it all becomes too much for your body to handle. 
He’s so greedy for all of it, he can’t get enough of you. No matter how much you give, he wants more, wants to give you more of himself in return. 
And it’s all your fault.
Bucky was going to let you out of this bed, he really was but you feel too good and every time he tried to let go, you pulled him back in.
He’ll let you get up in a few hours, once he’s sated this deep-seated craving to consume you. 
“I promise I will, ‘mega,” Bucky moans in your ear, one hand curved around the top of your head, protecting it from the headboard, sleek vibranium fingers lifting you up so his thighs can grind deeper into yours as he changes angles, desperately seeking that little spot that makes you feel so good. The erotic slap slap slap of his skin on yours nearly drowns out his words. “You might even make it your girl’s night. I’ll even wait up for you, have a bubble bath ready, make you a nightcap and everything, Bunny.” 
You pry your eyes open long enough to stare at your sweat-laced Alpha. His handsome face hovering over you, pleasure contouring his features, making you preen knowing you did this to him.
His muscular chest heaving, the skin between his tattoos red and flushed, long strands of damp hair curl around his nape and stick to his forehead, the muscles in his arms bulging as he keeps from crushing you under his massive body.
Dark blue eyes, wild and ardent, focus on your face, taking in every subtle change in expression, remembering everything little thing he does that makes you gasp and sob and call out his name like it’s prayer so he can do it again and again. 
He's debauched and feral and you’ll proudly take the blame for that.
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As he was making you breakfast this morning, you took his face in your hands, brought him down to your level, and told him you were ready to make him a daddy. He's been patiently waiting for you to be ready, never rushing, never pushing. You can't wait to give him this.
Bucky went so still for a minute you thought you might have broken him.
Then his eyes darkened and you practically saw the switch flip inside him, turning him into this insatiable Alpha, hellbent on keeping you so full that you won’t remember what it was like to be without him.
He gave you just enough time to finish your French toast before he was stripping your clothes off, taking you on the kitchen table, plates and cups knocked to the floor, then again in the hallway, your legs over his shoulders as he held you up against the wall, only stopping long enough to get you into the bedroom.
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There's no way you're making girls night.
“You’re a fucking liar,” you breathlessly giggle, carding a hand through his soft lock, the other smoothing down his back, stopping to grab his firm ass.
Bucky makes a sound of agreement in his throat, kiss-swollen lips curling into a smirk.
 He is, he really is. 
The bond connecting you to Bucky is thrumming with his neediness and lust and unabashed love for you, a stark reflection of your own feelings, his emotions feeding into yours until you can’t tell where his begins and yours ends. 
One thing is for sure though, he’s not letting you out of this rumpled, warm bed anytime soon, no matter what he says. You’d make it three steps towards the door before his arms wrapped around you, his deep voice in your ear begging for another taste of his pussy.
 “You said that, oh fuck, you said that last time and I ended up bent over the hood of the car, you know damn well I’m not leaving ohmigodyes,” your attempt to reprimand the smug Alpha are tampered by the soft moans slipping through your lips. 
“You might,” he weakly protests, laughing softly at the blatant disbelief on your face, his chest sliding up against yours, warm, firm muscles pressing into your soft skin.
“I’m a reasonable Alpha, I can let you go for a few–” His hips shift, pace turning rapid and deep and he finds it, your spot, his cock gliding it over with a delicious amount of pressure. You let out a sharp gasp, nails raking down his broad shoulders, back arching off the bed. “Oh, there it is ‘Mega. Yeah, that’s it. I always find it don’t I, Bunny? Always take good care of my girl.” He murmurs more to himself, getting lost in the intense sensations he’s feeling through the bond, letting it heighten his own pleasure. 
Bucky can barely stand the brief seconds his cock is out your warm, tight pussy when he pulls out, immediately rolling his hips to get back inside you, there’s no way he’s stopping he can’t stop, not until he’s gotten orgasm after orgasm after orgasm out of you. 
He drops his weight on top of you, and his heady scent, smoked cedar, and spiced citrus drifts around you in hazy waves, you could get high off his smell alone. Teeth graze your bonding mark, the wide pad of his thumb finds your aching clit, ruthlessly circling it, sensations skitter across your skin and he grinds into you, your pussy stretched tight around his thick cock, the veiny ridges sliding against your velvety walls, leaving you so full you don’t know if you want to push him out and beg for a reprieve or clench down and beg for more.
“Cum for me, there ya go, give it to me Bunny,” he grunts, “Gonna fill your tight little pussy again and again and then I’m gonna shove every drop of my cum back inside you, gonna keep you full until you make me a daddy. Yeah that’s it, fuck– such a good omega, giving me what I need, so fucking tight and warm and soft, fuck fuck I cant-,”
He breaks off, lips molding against yours, deepening the passionate kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, his beard brushing across your sensitive skin, your heels press into the small of his back and he breathes in your moans. 
His filthy praise pushes you to the brink, blinding hot sensations flow through your veins but it’s the way he’s losing control, his words slurring together, his pace quickening, becoming erratic and sloppy, thrust after deep, smooth thrust that set off your orgasm. 
The knot building inside you spirals out of control. You keen. An indescribable noise escaping your slack mouth, your vision blurring, your body tensing as Bucky fucks you through, his praise streaming in your ear, pushing you higher and higher until you break with a quiet sob, falling back to the sheets, pliant and sated. 
Bucky is quick to follow, chasing his own high as soon as he felt your orgasms unfurl, warmth flooding your body as he cums. His hips jerk once, twice, three times, desperately trying to push it back inside you even as it seeps around his cock.
Bucky collapses on top of you, laughing softly as he presses kisses along your throat, over the slope of your shoulder, his teeth sinking into your bonding mark, your pulsating cunt clenches around him in response, the harder he bites, the tighter you get until you’re spasming around him. He loves doing this to you, making you fuck yourself on his cock while he reaffirms your bond.
You feel everything all at once, all of him. It’s a vicious, incredible cycle you love. Another orgasm flares to life, softer than the first, but just as good. It overwhelms you in slow, heady waves. “Buc–” you cry out, pushing against his shoulders.
“I know Bunny, I got you,” He murmurs, releasing your mark, his tongue swiping across the fresh bite, soothing you. “Such a good girl, you did so good.” Bucky waits until you��re no longer fluttering around his softening cock, gently pulling out of your swollen, aching pussy. 
He moves to his side, resting his head on his palm, his other hand trailing down your heaving chest, tracing patterns across your belly. As much as he loves taking you apart, feeling you cum all over his cock, he also loves this–putting you back together, taking care of you. 
Any other day, he’d be halfway to the bathroom, grabbing a warm washcloth to clean you, praise you for being so damn good to him, find out what you want next, sleep, snacks, to be held and give it to you.
Today though–today is different. 
You watch as his fingers dip lower, gathering his cum, seeping out of you and guiding it back in. “You think it took?” His hopeful question matches the slow, eager grin pulling at his lips. 
“I do,” you start with a smile, stretching your arms over your head. His happiness is buzzing through your veins like a live wire. You take his chin, pulling his gaze away from your pussy, his deep blue eyes meeting yours. “But if you want to keep trying…” you trail off, nipping at his bottom lip, his cock twitching when you gently rake your teeth across it. 
“Thought you wanted to go out tonight.” His quick retort has your brow lifting sardonically. “Told you I can wait a few hours while you have fun with your girls. I’m a patient man, Bunny. I won’t follow you down there. Fuck you in the bathroom with my hand over your mouth so the restaurant doesn’t hear how loud you get, and send you back to your table with cum leaking out of your pussy.” He details his plans with a straight face, finishing with a mischievous smirk. “No, I’ll stay right here and wait for you.” 
Bucky shifts his weight, moving back over you in one quick motion. He lowers himself down, filling you inch by inch, his large body molding to the shape of you, his warm blue gaze capturing your eyes, lips brushing softly across yours.
You stare at him, ignoring the way your clit pulses at the images he’s painting. Bucky widens his eyes, completing his look of faux innocence and you laugh, slapping his chest with your palm. “You fucking liar.” 
“And that’s your fault, Bunny."
"I think you should make it up to me by wrapping that pretty little pussy around my cock and making an honest man out of me.” 
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Comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated. Thank you for reading! Check out my Alpha Bucky Masterlist for more!
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grugruel · 4 months
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Bad News 1 |
Parts: 1/2, read part 2 HERE
Parings: dbf!bucky x f!reader
MDNI/NSFW
Masterlist
Inspired by, Call me by your name
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Summary: Your fathers best friend accompanies you and your family to your summer house in the country. Sparks ignite as you grow closer, secretly spending one-on-one time together at night.
Words: 3.7k
Warnings: plot with smut, secret-relationship, angst, choking, praise kink, petname (doll), oral sex (f recieving), pinv sex, fingering, creampie, c*ck warming.
AN: Ill make it into a series if yall like it, please enjoy!
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Baring Throats
I leaned onto the windowsill, one arm stretched into the cool night air, holding a half smoked ciagrette as I rested my head in the crook of the other. A song filled the empty night, small birds and morning doves serenaded me beautifully, the occasional cranes interuppting with their paired cries.
I took a puff, exhailing slowly as I admired the view overlooking the garden, the vast grass plains surronding the house and the tree line in the distance. It separated us from the forest, obscuring the lake behind it and hiding all things wild. I glanced down the long road leading up to the house, and found a man walking along it.
Bucky, heading back from another venture into town. Perhaps he had visited a lady friend, which he had a good number of, perhaps it wasnt any of my concern. It shouldnt bother me, yet, it did.
I found my mind drifting, painting a picture of him in a bed, sweaty and naked, laying next to another woman and a spark of jealousy flared up inside me. The sound of footsteps on a gravel path approached, bringing me back to the moment, I blinked the images away and rebuked myself.
Looking down to the ground, my eyes met his. Smiling, I greeted him amd leaned over the sill. Nothing on but a thin t-shirt and a pair of panties, goosebumps prickled my skin. He smiled back at me. We looked at eachother in silent understanding, our business remaining our own. Wordlessly we communicated, I took another drag of the cigarette and he gestured for me to give him one, I held my index finger up, indicating for him to wait a second as I grabbed the pack and lighter from my nightstand, in turn tossing them down to him. Graciously he caught them and lit up, I nodded my head inside, asking him to join me. He took a long drag of the cig, considering me carefully, but he shook his head. Smiling increadolously, he pointed at me as if saying, "youre bad news" then snuffed his cigarette and went inside.
I heard him walking up the stairs, toward my room, the footsteps stopping just outside my door. Please knock, I begged, he seemed to be considering it, but a moment passed and then another, and at last he left. Entering his own room instead, opposite mine.
This had been our routine for the past few weeks, both being night owls, we'd sometimes encounter eachother on the premises. Coming from our separete affairs, but never asking the other where they'd been. We'd share a snack, talk in hushed voices, hold in laughs and shush eachother when we inevitably were to loud. It became our little secret, not because we did anything innapropriate, but simply because it were a few moments that belonged to just the two of us. Talking about things we couldnt talk about with anyone else. It had been innocent at first, but at some point had that charming smile of his begun to make me blush, at some point had his touching become more tender and at some point did our night time talks stop being accidental, but rather sought out. Last night, we'd come dangerously close to kissing and I think alarm bells sounded for the both of us, which is why we kept our distance tonight.
Dissapointed I went to bed, falling asleep with unseemly images of my fathers best friend clouding my mind.
I slept late into the next day, the sound of heavy rain battering the roof roused me from my sleep. As I got ready to go about my day, I found a note slid under my door, my lighter was inside, along with a few written words "Smoking is bad, you know. I'd better finish them for you :)" Chuckling, I saved the note, tucking it into my nightstand. Wiseass.
Due to poor weather and lack of outdoor activities, the family + one was gathered in the livingroom. My parents on one sofa, dad holding an arm around my mom as they read from the same book, my brother in the armchair and Bucky on the other sofa, everyone reading a variety of something. They all looked up as I entered the room, feigning surprise that I had finally joined them.
'Good afternoon stranger.' my father chuckled. I kissed my mothers cheek in greeting, she smiled sweetly and squeezed my hand in response as I passed them.
'About time you graced us with your prescence' Bucky teased, making my brother and mother join in with the cheerful joking.
I smirked and shook my head, waving my hands dissmissively, 'Very funny, I blame the weather.' I said and gestured toward the sky, sitting down on the empty seat next to Bucky. I laid my legs in his lap and leaned back against the armrest, propping my head up on a pillow. A conversation was struck up, talking about what I had missed, discussing resent books and making plans for tomorrow, it seemed like we'd go to the beach. Ocasionally, Bucky would grab and squeeze my legs when talking, in the same way some people gestured to get their point across.
As the chill of the evening drew closer, we lit a fire in the hearth and grabbed blankets. But a shortage occured, so I had to move closer to Bucky, he laid an arm across my shoulder as I curled up intill him so one blanket would be enough for the both of us. We grabbed a few bottles of wine, dusted off the old board games and got down to business. A heated game of monopoly ensued, followed by a short dinner break, eventually resulting in very drunk charades. Bucky and I teamed up, two versus three and we won regardless. Were all very competitve people, safe to say that none of us went to bed feeling very sportsmanlike that night. As the evening wound down, so did our energy, the wine was taking its toll. My legs were tucked against Buckys chest as I leaned my head against his shoulder, he circled his arms around my legs and rested his chin on my knees. Lazily the five of us talked for a while longer, enjoying the pleasent atmosphere of the night while we were still contious to do so. Eventually though, as laughs turned into yawns, Bucky and I offered to stay behind and clean up while the other three departed. Tidying went by quickly, we made a good team. As I discarded the last of the dishes in the sink, he put his hands on my shoulders and kissed my forehead, trying to keep his focus on my eyes, 'Go to bed, doll. I got the rest.' He said, smiling sweetly, attempting to act sober and rubbed my shoulders tenderly.
I looked at him with hazy eyes, 'If you say so.' I answered, smiling lazily, then went upstairs. Between our rooms, there was a french balcony. It stood wide open, my parents had presumably opened it in a drunk hot-flash to let air in. I was headed for my room, but my mind drifted to the crisp, sublte wind calling my name. My feet changed direction by themselves, and magically I appeared in the opening.
Leaned against the doorframe, I fell half asleep, the rain had devolved into a drizzle, but the air was damp and pleasantly chilly against my skin. Involuntairy shivers took over my body, but I was to tired to move. I heard distant footsteps behind me, coming and going, and eventually coming back again. The steps approached and strong arms circled around my shoulders, a warm body pressing up against my back. He'd covered himself with a blanket, holding the ends in his hands and gift wrapped me into his embrace. I held onto his forearms, a smile kn my lips as I basked in his warmth.
He rested his head on my shoulder, 'You were gonna freeze.' He explained himself, whispering against my ear and sending a cold shiver through my spine. I leaned my head back against his chest, sighing happily as we stood silently, appreciating eachothers presence. I drunk his scent in as our breaths matched up, the birds singing for us once again.
'I want my cigs back.' I complained, drunkenly disturbing our peaceful moment.
Bucky chuckled, 'I dont want you to get cancer.' He protested, half-joking.
I turned around, alcohol causing the bounderies of a long friendship to blur. I placed my hands on his chest and met his eyes, looking at him through my lashes, making them as big and pretty as a puppys 'Please?' I asked kindly.
He looked at me with adoration in his gaze, removing the blanket from himself and covering my shoulders with it. A smirk curved his lips as he looked at me, shaking his head in defeat. Wordslessly his manmersism spoke for him, 'Youre bad news." they told me, and this it would get the better of him. He grabbed my hand and led me into his room. Once inside he let go of me, opened his window and began rummaging around his dresser. I leaned my back against the windowsill, grabbing the lighter from my pocket and crossed my arms, wrapping the blanket tighter around me as I waited, watching him with a smile on my lips. His arm shot up into the air, displaying the packet proudly as he found them, 'I'll give you, one.' He told me quietly, a stern expression on his face.
My mouth fell open in disbelief, 'I payed for them!' I exclaimed, forgetting myself. Bucky put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, and walked up to me. He took a cigarette out of the pack and opened his hand expectantly, I gave him the lighter and he lit his cig, taking a puff and leaving it between his lips. He rested his elbows on the windowsill behind me and leaned forward, leveling his head with mine. Moving past my head, gracing my cheek with his as he blew the smoke out of the window, then leaned back. He had one arm on each side of me, crossed behind my back, he had me pinned between him and the window. Our faces were inches apart, both painfully aware that this wasnt appropriate of a daughter and the family friend, but the wine had pushed out any reason or logic of our minds. I couldnt help but look away, suddenly shy. Luring a smile from him as he observed the way a blush crept its way up my cheeks. I took the cig from him, my fingertips acidentally grazing his lips, and placed it between my own. I took a puff and faced him again, our eyes locked, sharing hidden thoughts through transparent gazes.
Energy sizzled in the air, building onto the tension between us, magnetizing it, pulling at the invisible string that connected us. 'Let me taste.' He whispered, inching closer. I hesitated, before slowly exhaling the smoke as he breathed it in, sharing the toxic cloud between us, poisoning our judgement. I felt myself drawn closer to him, the string pulling taunt on both ends, his lips a mere ghost over mine. Temptation coarsed through our veins, causing heavy breathing as we fought our urges. But we both gave in, in the end.
Our lips met in a soft kiss, he moved his arms from the windowsill and grabbed my waist. I was taken off guard, but welcomingly so. Complicated feelings bounced through my mind, but I couldnt back down now. I hurridly snuffed out the cigarette against the sill and snaked my hands around his neck as I kissed him back, pulling him closer. His hands found their way under my shirt, sliding up my torso until his fingertips touched the plush flesh of my breasts. He inhaled sharply, the oxygen returning to his brain as common sense flooded back to him. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, this was his best friends daughter. He tore free from the claws of desire, grabbing my arms and unhooking them from his neck, he backed up. I reached out for him, but he pulled away, sitting down at the end of his bed, he laid his head in his hands, a labored sigh leaving him.
'We cant, you know we cant.' He whispered, voice muffled against his palms. I did know, but I couldnt help it. I sat down next to him, wrapping my arms around his, grabbing his bicep as I rested my head against his shoulder. He sat straighter, letting one of his hands fall to my knee as the other stroked my hair, he kissed the top of my head.
'I just- Why did it turn out this way?' I asked him quietly, my voice quivering 'I know we cant, but. . .' I paused, thinking of the right words. His hand slid from my hair to gently caress my cheek, then tracing his fingers finger along my jaw until they found purchase under my chin and tilted my face to meet his. I searched his gaze for something unknow to me, 'I need you.' I whispered foolishly, my eyes watering, 'This is all your fault you know, your stupid smile and caring words.' I laughed mirthlessly, keeping my eyes locked on his, as a tear threatened to fall.
He cupped my face with boths hands, looking at me with a sorrowful expression as he leaned his forehead against mine.
'Bucky, please.' I whispered, leaning into his touch 'If you cant have me, stop this.' I pulled one of his hands from my face, clasping my own around it and kissed his palm softly before letting it fall to my lap.
'I cant get stuck. . . Wanting your love if you cannot give it to me.' I told him quietly, squeezing his hand as my voice broke, I leaned back, meeting his eyes again, pleading, 'Please say something.'
But he remained quiet as his eyes welled, admiring my blushed, tear streaked face.
My eyebrows furrowed, not understanding how he could be so cruel. A tear finally rolled down my cheek and my chin quivered in disbelief, I was nothing more than a naive girl to him.
I looked away, not wanting him to see the pain he caused me. I took his silence as a rejection and moved to stand, but he grabbed my wrist, stopping me from leaving, 'Let me go.' I cried silently, unwilling to face him as tears streamed down my cheeks. I stood again, pulling, trying to unclasp my hand from his grip but I could not, 'Please Buck, I cant do this.' I croaked, looking up at the ceiling as I tried to blink my tears away.
'Look at me.' He ordered softly, but I refused. 'Doll.' He whispered in warning, but hearing his name for me only made my cry harder, I pulled on his grip again but he was unrelenting. 'Sit, please.' He asked this time, desperation burried in his voice.
'No.' I answered, resolute.
As I was not cooperating, he took matters into his own hands. He pulled me back down and cupped my face as kissed me harshly, I fought him out of anger, but quickly melted into his touch, all was forgiven, it had always been.
He deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into my mouth, moaning from just the taste of me. My hands found their way to his brown locs, burrying themselves, while his hands felt their way down my body. We fell backwards onto the bed and he cilimbed on top of me, pushing his knee between my legs to separate them. His lips found my neck, trailing kisses from my jaw to collarbone as his hand kneaded its way up my thigh, my skirt catching on his wrist. His lips left my skin as he sat up, scaring me for a moment as I thought he changed his mind. But he climbed down to the foot of the bed, knees on the floor and hooked his hands under my kees, pulling me to the edge of the bed. His hands found my panties and ripped them off, I gasped from the sudden gust of cold air hitting my wet core. He kissed my thighs, licking and nipping as he worked his way inwards, panting inbetween pecks, desperate to taste me. He looked up at me, meeting my eyes as he hovered over my core, his breath fanning over my clit, he looked like a crazed mad man. The anticipation was overflowing, I bit my lip, nodding for him to go ahead and he dove in. Lapping at my clit, tasting me. I almost screamed from the sudden sensation, but covered my mouth at the last second. I rutted my hips against him, hoping for further friction, but his hands grabbed my hips, holding me down so he could please with intention. I whined, grabbing at the sheets, pulling on them for support, It wasnt enough.
'More, more.' I moaned, and he obligingly latched onto my clit, sucking as two of his fingers found their way inside me, thrusting and curling at my pleasure. Breathy moans escaped me as I was getting closer to cumming.
'Close, real close' I managed with a mumbling voice, he squeezed my hip in reassurance, telling me it was alright. I hummed as the knot in my stumache pulled tighter, he pushed another finger inside me and im convinced I saw the light. I came tumbling over the edge, stiffling another scream by shoving my face into the bed. And as I was catching my breath, he kissed his way back up to me, climbing on top once again, he snaked one arm under my back to pull my shirt off, freeing my breasts, then lifted my hips to take my skirt off, followed by his own shirt and sweats. He was huge, no surpise there.
'You okay?' He asked, and I hummed in response, cupping his face and pulling him back up to my lips, kissing him with a burning passion. He pulled back, 'Use your words girl.' He said sternly.
'Need you.' I whispered, kissing him again.
'You sure doll?' he asked against my lips, I nodded enthusiastically.
'Please, Ive never wanted anything more.' I assured him. He hooked my leg onto his knee, raising it to get better access to my opening. I circled my other leg around his hip and he lined himself up with my entrance.
'Look at me.' He ordered again, and I met his eyes, gazes locked deeply as his tip teased my entrance. I admired his beautiful face as I circled my arms around his shoulders, preparing for whatever was to come. Suddenly he slid inside me and we gasped in unisome, he didnt move for a second so I could get used to his size. He stroked a strand of hair behind my ear as he admired my face, 'My beautiful girl.' He whispered, making my heart beat faster.
He pulled out of me and thrusted in again softly, setting a slow but intent pace. Each thrust took my breath away, all the while he was grunting in my ear. His hand found its way to my throat, closing around it and squeezed, putting slight pressure on it and stealing another moannfrom me in the process. He graced his nose against my cheek, kissing my jaw as he thrusted deeper, and I met them with desperate ruts, 'C'mon doll, just like that.' He encouraged me in a breathy voice, that alone couldve been enough to make me cum. He trailed kisses down my chest and latched onto my breast, taking it into his mouth, sucking and nibbling at my nipple as his hand found the other, kneading it intently.
'Getting- closer.' I hummed, but his thrusting slowed, eventually stopping completley. 'Buck?' I questioned, and he let go of my breasts, pulling out of me completley, pleasure and confusion mixed my mind into a strange mess. He backed up, grabbed my legs, raising them and in one solid motion hooked them onto his shoulders and thrust into me again, deeper than ever before. A loud moan tore through me, to blided by the feeling that I completley forgot about being silent. His hand quickly covered my mouth as he began a ruthlessly deep and hard pace, rocking my entire body. His mouth quickly replaced his hand, kissing me deepley, passionateley, in rythm with his thrusts.
'Almost there, doll.' He mumbled between kisses, I nodded, not able to for words, but I was close to. The knot in my stumache terribly close to coming undone once again. His thrustingbecame rougher, harder as he closed in on his orgasm, hitting that sweet spot every time. Our breaths were nothing more than frenzied moans, his pace faltered, giving it all he had for a few last thrusts before we both came undone. Warm liquid spurting into me as he collpased on top of me, resting his head in the crook of my neck and kissing my skin softly as we cought or breath, 'Good girl.' He whispered, 'My good, good girl.' He panted, still inside me as his seed slowly, sippered out of me.
My heart fluttered at his words as I fought to keep my eyes open, the alcohol and exhaustion from the day along with the bliss of our secret activities were catching up to us. He laid an arm around my ribbcage, pulling me closer to him, I hooked my leg over his hip and curled up to him. I gave him a quick peck on the lips as he kissed my forehead, and we fell asleep in eachothers arms.
I woke up later in the night, but in my own room. I wouldve thought I had dreamt it all if it wasnt for the blanket tucked tightly around me, still smelling of him.
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Read part two HERE <3
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How about if Bucky was a police detective or a firefighter and ps!reader was like a baker or a nurse and she either Mets in the ER or her bakery and Bucky has like a girlfriend or someone he’s “talking” to and the someone notices that he goes in to the reader’s job more than usual and the girlfriend then goes to her job and says all this stuff but in the end Bucky and ps!reader end up together. Sorry for the rambling!!! 😅
༉‧₊˚. 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬
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― pairing: firefighter!bucky barnes x plus size!reader
― summary: falling for your avid customer bucky was never in the cards, but when a woman comes storming into your store calling you names, you began to think that he's not who he says he is.
― warnings: bullying, fat shaming, jealousy, hurt/comfort, stalking, mentions of stalking situations, angst, fluff, suggestiveness at the end, flirty bucky, angst with a happy ending.
― wc: 1482
⋆ a/n: thank you so much for this request! it was nice to work on an alternative universe fic, especially firefighter bucky!
masterlist | AO3
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"Good morning sweetness!" Bucky greeted over the sound of your bell hitting the door. You flushed, rolling your eyes as you smiled shyly from behind the counter, brushing some flour off of your hands and onto your apron as you exited the kitchen. "Morning Buck. Same as usual?" He leaned on the glass casings of cupcakes, cakes, cake pops, and other assorted baked treats. Usually, you'd scold customers for dirtying up the glass, but when it came to Bucky, you didn't care.
Bucky was a firefighter with a particular sweet tooth, practically showing up to your establishment almost every day. He was very flirtatious, and heavy on the nicknames as he watched you carefully. At first, the nicknames irritated you, because you thought it was just another man abusing the power of his occupation to catcall a woman, but you saw how kind he was, sometimes even bringing his coworkers Steve & Sam with him. You began to appreciate his arrival, even anticipating his visits whenever you heard the bell sing its similar song.
"So, Doll. I was thinking that maybe you and me could go out to dinner tomorrow night." Butterflies fluttered inside of your stomach at his words, raising an eyebrow as you tried to play your shock off. "Are you asking me out on a date, James?" His grin grew wider as you referred to him as his actual name. "Would that be a problem if I was?" You reached into the casing, pulling out his three chocolate chip cookies he always gets. You knew they for himself, Sam, and Steve. Your heart grew at the selfless act.
"I suppose it wouldn't," You said with faux non-chalance, "Just name the time and place." As you handed him the little baggie full of goodies, you couldn't stop staring at each other with lovesick smiles, even as he left, you burning holes into his muscular back. It was always nice to be able to finish off the day with a smile.
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The next day at work seemed to go by too slow for your liking, constantly checking the clock on the wall as you rung customers up.
"Looks like you have somewhere you're eager to be." Your best friend Wanda teased. You rolled your eyes, a tiny grin on your face as you shrugged. "Who knows?" You said playfully. Wanda nudged you with her shoulder, giggling as you feigned annoyance.
Your giggling was cut short by your door hitting the wall, a furious looking woman storming in.
"Which one of you is _______?!" She all but screeched. Your eyes were wide as Wanda rested a hand on your shoulder, giving you a look of concern. "It's okay Wands," You whispered to her, "I got this." Putting on a kind smile, you walked from behind the counter to greet her. This wasn't the first time you had angry customers, but you were always able to calm them down, even coming to an agreement of a refund.
"That's me!" You said with fake enthusiasm. "What can I do for you?" You asked. She just rolled her eyes; her body close to yours as she eyed you up and down. "Stay away from James you fat freak." You could hear gasps come from your customers as your heart fell into your stomach. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean." You said nervously, bile feeling like it was about to rise in the back of your throat.
"What I mean is that he's mine. So, I don't know what you think you're doing flirting with him, but it's got to stop. Now. I'm his girlfriend, and if I ever see you snooping around him ever again, there's going to be some problems." As she stepped closer, you stepped back. "And it's not like he'd ever go for someone as big as you are anyways. Even though he's a firefighter doesn't mean he deals with zoo animals too." She then plastered on a condescending smile. "So, he won't be coming back here anymore. Toodles." With that, she exited out of the store, leaving you standing there utterly humiliated as you tried to wrap your head around what just happened.
Why didn't you say anything? What was she talking about? Bucky had a girlfriend? There were all of these questions swirling in your minds as you felt Wanda's gently hand on your body once more, what she was saying falling on completely deaf ears as you stared at the glass door with your company name on it blankly. All you could do was turn your head to face her with a watery smile. "It's okay, Wands. I'm fine." Despite your words, you disappeared back into the kitchen where you allowed your tears to fall.
You stopped looking at the time, tending to the people that chose to sit in the booths, the college kids that always had study groups there. You knew Bucky was probably waiting for you, but you couldn't find it within your broken heart to care. You had no idea that he was a cheater, the cute — and what you thought was harmless — firefighter turned out to be a total prick. Maybe you got too hopeful. You fell into dark thoughts, ones that you hadn't dwelled on since you were in high school.
You closed up by yourself, bidding Wanda a fruitless goodbye as she held you in her embrace, whispering words of affirmation and encouragement into your ear. Wanda was a good person, the only one that could probably help pull you back from wherever you were falling from.
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You were bent over wiping a table when you heard that familiar jingle.
"Sorry, but we're closed," You said, "Come back tomorrow! We open early in the morning." But the door never closed, the bracing breezes brushing up against the naked skin of your arms that your work shirt didn't cover. "I think I already know that." Bucky sounded from behind you. Your whole body froze, your grip on the wet rag tensing as you didn't even bother to look behind you.
"Go away, James." You said coldly. "No." You scoffed and finally turned around. He looked nice, clean shaven, his hair even styled when it was usually always out of place. He dressed up for you.
"I don't go dates with cheaters." You said simply. That made his eyebrows furrow. "Cheater? Doll, I'm single." That made anger bubble deep inside of you. "Oh trust me, I know you're not, because your psycho girlfriend came in my store and humiliated me in front of everyone!" Then, a look of understanding overtook his face, along with one of frustration.
"Goddamn it," Bucky groaned, "Fuckin' Dot." He walked up to you, taking one of your hands in his. You wanted to pull away from him, but the way his callused and worked fingers gripped yours was enchanting. "Baby, that woman... she's—" He gulped. He looked almost anxious. "She's an ex of mine. I broke it off with her and she went psycho. At first, I thought she could just leave me alone, but then... but then she started to stalk me, so I had to get a restraining order against her. It had recently just expired. I figured she had started stalking me again, but I hadn't expected her to be this... to be this bold." He ended with a sigh.
"I'm sorry, _____. I really am. I'm sorry she did that to you, you didn't deserve it. You didn't deserve to be dragged into my shit." You shook your head softly, raising a hand so that it could rest on his now stubble free cheek. "Yes, I didn't deserve it, but you didn't either, Buck. I wish you would have told me about this, yeah, but I understand why you didn't. You wouldn't have scared me away because... because I wanna be with you, and I was really fucking excited when you asked me to go on a date with you." Your thumb caressed his cheek.
He looked at you through his eyelashes, large palms hesitantly landing on your waist, giving you an out to pull away if the gesture made you too uncomfortable. It didn't, instead, it heated up your body, a pleasant warmth settling in your gut at the feeling.
"I would still be willing to go on that date, if you want." You asked. You were scared that he would say no, you did stand him up after all. "Well, the restaurant is closed, but I'm pretty sure that Chinese place is still open. We could order in and watch tv at my place?" You raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. "You're not trying to get me alone so you can get in my pants, are ya, Buck?" You asked playfully. He only chuckled, leaning his head down and brushing his lips against yours.
"It all depends on how you want this night to go."
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ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood
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buckys-little-belle · 3 months
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Chapter Three - Raindrops and Goodbyes
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SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW. 
Warnings - Talks about past (bad) Caregivers, talks about fear of abandonment, some heavy negative feelings, comparing oneself to others, fluff but ends in some angst, Bub eats, food mentioned, Bub cries 
Word Count - 1751
Note - Sorry this took so long to get out! Things got hectic, and crappy, and I haven't been able to edit, or format, or really write lately! Luckily things are going well and I won't start school till the 16th so I'm hoping to get some stuff out in the next week or so! Part four will be posted tomorrow! I can't leave us on a sad note for too long! I just can't!!
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Y/n always hated wearing her yellow raincoat, the material feeling odd against her skin, and the crinkle of the fabric was never music to her ears. But on days like this, grey skies and heavy raindrops falling to the ground, she had no choice but to suit up. Her matching rain boots on, allowing her to splash in any puddle she felt needed to be played in. 
As she neared the Cafe she got excited, Bucky said they would go to the park today, and although it’s running she has hopes that he’ll let them go anyways, her umbrella overhead creating enough of a dry patch to maybe, at the least, run around in the mud without catching a nasty cold. 
“Mr!” She cheered as she walked in, something she did every time she saw him sat at his usual table, early as always. “I has something for you!” She smiled big as she unzipped the front pocket of her backpack “Here.” Her smile grew as Bucky’s mirrored hers, the small baggie with flowers printed on it full of chocolate chip cookies her pride and joy. 
“You made these?” 
“Yes!” Y/n says still standing, ready to leave for the park wherever Bucky is ready. Shifting her weight from one foot to another, growing impatient. “All on my own!” She cheered, proud of her baked goods. “Park now?” Bub asked, her smile still huge, both hands grasping the straps of her bag, now back on her back. 
“It’s raining, Bub.” Bucky frowned, causing Bub to mirror his expression. “But we’ll go next time, okay?” He asked, his hands immediately helping Y/n out of her raincoat, the buttons soon undone. 
“But you promised?” Y/n frowned, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “I wanted to go to d’park.” Y/n held back her tears, though she wished to stomp her foot and throw a small fit, she didn’t know Bucky well enough to truly let him see her little side completely. So instead she fixed her clothing after her coat had been taken off and sat in her usual seat. 
“I know I promised, Bub.” She smiled at the nickname. “But I brought us a fun game to play today.” He was quickly making her forget about the park trip altogether, now excited to see whatever game he had brought. She hoped it wasn’t UNO, she sucked at that. “Here.” He said as he placed a game on the table, the pink and blue of Candyland making Y/n let out a small squeal. 
“I love Candyland!” She grabbed the box and bounced in her seat. “Can we play now?” She asked, her eyes turning to Bucky, him already looking at her. “Please?” She added on for good measure. 
The moment he nodded his head she opened the box, pulling all the pieces out. “Why don’t you set it up, and I get us some snacks?” Bucky asked, Y/n didn’t even look up at him, but nodded her head. Too busy pulling out the different characters. 
Y/n didn’t know how long it took Bucky to get snacks, but by the time he got back to the table she had created a whole plot amongst the characters and their kingdoms. “Here, Bub.” Bucky said as he placed a plate on the table. It was more than the usual cake pop he got her, though one still sat on the plate. This time he got vegetables and dip, some goldfish, and a cup of juice. 
“Thank you, Mr.” Y/n smiled up at him, grabbing a celery stick and dipping it. “Can I be the ice cream cone?” She asked, showing him the character she had in her hand. Bucky nodded but stayed sitting. “You need’a pick a lil guy.” She pointed to the characters situated around the board. 
“Right.” He said, his expression growing serious as he looked each one over. “I’ll pick this one, he looks tough.” Y/n broke out into a fit of giggles, the marshmallow definitely not a ‘tough guy’. 
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They got to playing the game, Y/n winning two times in a row. She wasn’t surprised, while she knew it was all down to luck, she had played the game a ton of times so clearly the Candyland gods liked her more than Bucky. “Are you cold bub?” Bucky asked her, making her realise she was shivering slightly.
She knew not bringing a sweater might be a bad idea, but she thought they were going to the park. “Um, yeah.” She nodded then shrugged her shoulders. She hoped he wouldn’t make her go back home and get one, she only had so much time in a day to spend at the cafe. “Bu’ I’m all good, can we play again?” She asked, moving their pieces back to the star. 
“Yeah we can play again, just wait a second.” Bucky stood up, she wondered where he was going, but instead of leaving to grab something or go to the bathroom he stood at the side of her booth with a black sweater in hand. “Hands up, Bub.” He said, holding the sweater out. 
“I don’ need your sweater, wha’ if yous get cold?” She asked, not sure if her being so comfortable around Bucky her little side couldn’t help but come out now was a good thing or a bad thing. While she was 100% sure Bucky was a safe guy to be around, she didn’t want to get too attached to him just in case. 
“I won’t get cold.” He answered in a softer voice. She knew he was special, that’s what everyone in the newspapers said, that he’s indestructible. But she’d hate to be the person who gave a super soldier a cold because she took his sweater. “Bub.” His voice drew her out of her worrying. He was now crouched down so they were eye level. “I won’t get cold, but you’re shivering.” He didn’t wait for her to put her arms up, instead just putting it over her head and waiting for her to put her arms through on her own.
“Tanks.” Bub murmured, looking at Bucky with a small smile. She was thankful for the sweater, now warm, but she still worried that she was too much to handle. He had given her a lot, crayons, colouring pages, so much of his time, and now his sweater. She hadn’t given him anything but cookies that she hoped tasted okay. 
“Why don’t we play again?” Bucky asked as he settled back into his seat. “I can feel it, I’m going to win this one.” He teased, she shook her head, he had no clue that the Candyland gods were on her side, and she hoped he would never know. 
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Y/n frowned as she saw Bucky pacing around outside. It had stopped raining but he said that they should wait till a sunny day to go out, because ‘everything would be slippery’. Buck’s phone had rung five hours ago, well maybe two minutes ago, but it felt like forever as she just watched him pace with an unhappy look on his face. 
She grabbed the last few goldfish and got back to her colouring, when she had won for a third time Bucky had to quit, saying his ego couldn’t handle anymore. Y/n giggled at the memory. 
The doorbell rang out and she quickly turned, though her smile turned back into a frown when she saw Bucky’s sad expression. “I’m sorry, I have to go, Bub.” He said, his sad words said in a kind tone. 
“Oh, otay.” Y/n answered, watching him pack up his things. “Will you be back tomorrow?” She asked, her crayons laid on the table instead of in her hands. 
Bucky sighed, then sat down, his hands clasped on the table. “I’m going to be gone until next wednesday.” Y/n’s back straightened up, he’d be gone for nine days. That was a lot of time to be gone, and a lot of time for him to think and change his mind about her. 
“Oh, do you, do you wan’ your sweater back?” She asked, wiggling her hands out of the sleeves before Bucky got to her. His hands covering hers, a painful smile on his face. 
“You can keep it, I’ll get it back when I come back okay?” Y/n nodded. “I’ll put my phone number in your phone, and I’ll text you if I’m going to be back later than wednesday, okay?” She nodded her head, at least he wasn’t just up and leaving, he was giving her a point of contact if needed. She handed him her phone, watching as he took forever to type out his name and number. It was a little silly to watch. “I won’t be able to text or call you while I’m away.” He admitted. “But you can text me all you want and I’ll read them when I’m back.” Bucky offered, though she knew she wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t bother him while he was away, she knew people hated that. 
She just nodded her head, watching him as he put his coat and backpack on. “Stay safe.” She whispered as he stood in front of her, ready to leave. 
“And you be good, Bub.” Bucky whispered back, and then he was gone. She watched him get into his jeep and drive away. She knew her mind was being silly when she couldn’t help but think he wouldn’t come back, but it didn’t mean it stopped that train of thought. 
She knew deep down that he had to leave, he didn’t want to, but he had to. She knew he wasn’t like the other people who became her friends and then left and never came back, she knew that, somewhere in her mind she knew that. But she still couldn’t help it as a few tears slipped down her cheeks as she cleaned up. She couldn’t help but let out a small sad noise as she put on her coat, and she couldn’t help but sob the moment she got home and into bed. 
“He had to go save people, he was needed by the world because he's a good guy, that’s why he left.” She whispered to herself all night, but she still felt as though he had left because of something she did.
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thevillainswhore · 16 days
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Read Between The Lines
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Pairing: Modern!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 6.6k
Summary: There shouldn’t have been anything unusual about your routine visit to the local bookstore. Your life was simple and mundane, even if you were a daydreamer at heart. But you were pleasantly surprised when this time you met a handsome stranger between the shelves.
Warnings: Pure fluff, meet cute, meddling bookstore owners, lets also pretend that walking someone home after you’ve only just met is fine 😅🤣
Author’s Note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics and dividers by @rookthorne 💜 hope you enjoy your gift my love 🥰
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It was an early morning in Brooklyn as you walked down the cobblestone path — a light dusting of wind had you wrapping your coat tighter around you while a chill tingled your cheeks. 
Finally, a free day marked out in your calendar meant you had the opportunity to spend some time to yourself and of course, that had to include the cutesy, tucked away bookshop — fittingly named Hidden Treasures — found in an unplanned outing; a true secret gem you held dear to your heart. 
Weekly stops to your new bookstore soon became routine in your life. A daydreamer at heart, you were always on the hunt for a new fairytale or fantasy to delve into; best friends to lovers, soulmates bound to fall in love, a bump in with a handsome stranger — a girl could dream. 
Modern dating had proven disastrous for you when plenty of first dates arranged online had turned sour fast. That embarrassment was enough to have you swear off real romance for life. 
So, you had always kept your head in your books. Yes, your days might have been a little stale. And yes, you could have used a little more excitement in your life. But, you were more than happy to stick to your safety net of fictional men — they would never disappoint you.
The chime from the store bell rang as soon as you opened the door and stepped inside. Shimmying your coat and scarf off, you hung them on the rack and sighed happily. By the counter as always was Teddy; the sweet, old man who had greeted you with a beaming smile and an enthusiastic wave since your first visit. “Morning, darlin’!”
“Good morning, Ted.” It was impossible to contain your wide grin as you stomped the dirt off your boots onto the mat, happy to see the bookstore owner and your now good friend. “I’ll catch you when I’m finished, okay?” 
As usual, Teddy gave you the go ahead with a nudge of his head to get on with your weekly haul, already expecting you to jump into your adventure of fiction and find him after. 
The feeling of being transported into another world each time never disappeared. The floor to ceiling oak bookshelves wrapped in green vines, towered over you like castles and the bumps and ridges of variously sized books you ran your hands over reminded you of their stone walls. Fairy lights were strung between the exposed wooden beams of the roof and streams of daylight casted in through the window that brightened the shop.
All your responsibilities vanished for the time being and a blissful peace clouded the stress and anxiety of the week. It was magical.
Endless coves and hideouts hid around the shop — the amount of times you had gotten lost, even in such a small space, never failed to amuse Teddy. You would always find your way back to the counter, a stack of books overflowing in your arms with a sheepish expression. You were still finding secrets to this very day. 
After idly walking around the cozy bookshop for a while with no real goal, you eventually decided to stroll towards the romance section. You were on a mission to find the next installment of the series you were currently reading, browsing from A-Z and trailing the tip of your finger along the coffee stained, worned spines.
The rustic smell you could only find between the pages of written stories were deeply breathed in as you hummed along to the calm jazz song that played from the speakers. You scoured through the endless selection until you reached exactly what you were looking for. Finger coming to a stop, you were about to carefully pluck the book from the shelf. 
Now, you believed you were a cautious person — a healthy amount of awareness of your surroundings never hurt to keep you safe. However, instinct seemed to fail you when a figure brushed your back. They were directly behind you, light on their feet and quiet. 
The tiny hairs on your arms stood up, alert with the presence close by and before you could have spun around, a thick arm stretched over the top of your head and into your vision.  
The feel of ringed fingers gently brushed against yours as they landed on the book you planned to take. You looked at both of your hands, transfixed at the difference in size between you. The staccato of your heart was sent into overdrive, thumping wildly against your chest. 
You watched in real time as the cold silver against your warm skin thrummed all the way through your body, a bolt of electricity tingling your nerves — never had you felt more alive.   
Following a path from the stranger's hands all the way up his arms, the pattern of colourful tattoos screamed out at you. Beautiful, intricate designs with immaculate detailing bursted over his olive skin and decorated his frame perfectly. 
There was no doubt this stranger heard the small gasp you let loose. But you couldn’t have helped it. Those arms taunted you — the devil on your shoulder poked its sharp tail against you and whispered delightful sins into your ear. 
Down girl. You didn't even know him yet.
“Oh!” The stranger exclaimed. “My apologies, Doll. Looks like we were reaching for the same book.” The deep voice that rumbled above caused a shiver to run down your spine — pure heaven in your ears. 
You gained the courage to turn around and look up at his face, and you were utterly mesmerised at the ocean blues staring straight into your soul, reaching into the deep valleys of guarded secrets you kept close to your heart. Everything you wanted to keep hidden started to unravel in one look. You were unsure whether you loved it or hated it.  
Your mouth fell agape as this tattooed stranger with a dreamy gaze smirked, watching you take his appearance in. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you racked your head for something to say as your eyes darted over his features — desperate to take in his beauty. 
However, you failed to realise this man had also been basking in your beauty too, obsessing over every detail of your face. You watched him slowly lick his lips, flitting his eyes up and down your figure before he summarised, “Huh — I guess you do look the type for a good romance.” 
As much as you tried to remain composed, your mind apparently had decided that was the time to throw your filter out the window. “I can’t say the same for you.” 
Your mouth instantly fell open in shock, mortified at your audacity. The embarrassment of your own awkward nature forced you to slap your hand over your mouth. 
Quick to want to rectify your mistake, you stuttered, falling over your own words as you attempted to say your apologies. “Oh my god. I didn’t— I didn’t mean it like that, I swear! Just— just with the tattoos and— and the— the um…” your words trailed off as you gawked at his nose ring in awe.
You were too busy lost in this man’s invisible spell to notice the laugh he tried to keep in. All you paid attention to was his teeth biting into his plump bottom lip. 
However, it was the sudden realisation of the position the two of you hadn’t moved from that shook you out of your haze — now hyper aware of the proximity against each of your chests. The way this walking, tatted sin on legs, plucked straight from your dreams held eye contact astounded you. Your legs were almost forced to cross over each other, to stop the flutter between them as his breath tickled your neck and the scent of mint and leather permeated your senses. 
Outwardly shaking your head to snap out of your brain fog, you stepped back to lean against the bookshelf, out of this unusual hold of a stranger so you could actually think properly. 
You undoubtedly expected him to bid you farewell, for him to take offense to your quip (rightfully so)  and never see him again — your chance flushed down the drain already due to your own inability to socialise like a human being. 
The world would be that cruel to you, you figured. To dangle the most gorgeous man you had ever seen in front of you only to rip him away because of your lack of grace. Why not after your so called luck with dating? 
So it was to your pleasant surprise that instead, this stranger wasn’t repelled by you and in fact took a step closer towards you, eyes homed onto yours intensely with a glint of mischief. “While my looks may be deceiving,” he rested his hand on the shelf beside you and leaned down to your height. “I sure don’t mind the element of surprise if it captures the attention of a pretty girl.”
The charm and the charisma that seeped from his pores had you releasing a giggle. And the delight of being the cause of that twinkle in his cerulean eyes was unlike anything else.
Testing the waters, you teased him, praying you didnt mess up the second chance you had been graciously gifted. “Do you normally pick up girls in bookstores?”
The bewitching stranger didn’t let up on his allure though. “This is actually my first time, is it obvious how bad I am at this?”
“You’re not doing so bad.” You shrugged, a smile edging its way into your face. 
“Well, thank god for that.” He dramatically clasped his hand to his heart, blowing out a breath. “I was hoping that would work because I had no more pick up lines to win you over.”
Your laughter filled the aisle. His endearing nature — just the right balance of wit and appeal — attracted you even more. 
A calm broke over the two of you as your joint amusement naturally settled. You both continued to gaze at the other before your companion introduced himself. “I’m Bucky.”
Bucky. You finally had the stranger’s name and it suited him, you figured. Hearing it gave you a warm feeling in your chest and an itch to test it on your tongue. 
“Can I have the pleasure of knowing your name too?” he asked smoothly.
The subtle cock of his head and that damned sparkle in his eye, finished off with a tongue in cheek smile almost had you giving in. Bucky was patient as the tension brewed in the air and he looked at you as though all of his problems would have been answered if he knew what to call you. 
However, a sudden defiant nature within you wanted to test him. Make him work for something so personal. “I think I’ll stick with keeping it to myself for now,” you granted him instead.
Bucky was visibly surprised with your comeback, eyes widening the slightest as he stood tall and slid his hands into his jean pockets, but the glint in his eyes told you he liked your sass — a mystery stood in front of him that he was desperate to unravel. 
“Elusive, I like it.” He cocked his hip and grinned, giving you an appreciative once over before he declared, “Doll it is then, sweetheart.” 
Your heart swooped. Like you were on a rollercoaster, about to drop from the highest point. The rush you experienced from one small interaction was addictive and you wanted more. 
“So,” Bucky said. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut and winced as a flush crept up his neck. 
Discreetly, you covered your mouth with your hand to hide the laughter lodged in your throat. You actually thought his dorkiness was adorable, but you wanted to let him suffer for a little longer. “Is that really what you’re going with?” You sniggered. “I knew you said you were out of pick up lines, big guy, but you’re scraping the barrel with that one.”  
Bucky squinted his eyes open and sighed. “I know — I know — that one was awful.” Surprisingly, he managed to pull you back in with his dreamy smile. “I swear I got better game than that.” 
“Oh really?” You challenged, crossing your arms over each other. “I don’t believe it.”
But as quick as a whistle, he retorted. “Go out with me and you’ll soon know how I could win you over.”
It was your turn to stifle the heat rising to your cheeks. There was a hopefulness in his gaze, desperately pulling you in. The hopeless romantic in you could have fallen in love with him right there and then, but you knew that wasn’t at all reasonable or realistic. 
“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” you laughed. Turning on your heels to pluck the very book that had been the cause of your bump in with your beautiful stranger, you waved the book over your shoulder, “But I think I better go pay for this.” 
“Ah, you beat me to it, Doll.” He clicked his tongue, a bout of sadness to his tone. “Would you mind if I walked with you? I’ve already got everything I hoped for.” Bucky’s eyes never left yours as he reached over the top of your head, once again trapping you, and taking a book from the shelf. 
Had your mind been any less fuzzy, you would have noticed he hadn’t even looked at which book he was reaching for, picking one at random to gently wave in the air between you, too.
You cleared your throat. “Y—yeah, of course! Not a problem whatsoever.” 
After Bucky had stepped back, he gestured for you to go first and the two of you silently walked over to the counter. You tried to discreetly glance over your shoulder, unable to resist looking at him. But your cheeks heated up when he met your gaze and winked. 
Once you reached the counter, you offered a bright smile to Teddy, who was already grinning back at you. Placing your chosen book on the wood between you for him to scan, he raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Just the one for you today, little one?” 
“Just the one this time, Ted.” You confirmed. 
“That’s unlike you.” Teddy hummed in thought. “Didn’t find anything else you like back there?” 
You mumbled under your breath, quiet enough that Teddy struggled to hear, “You could say that.”
Aware that Bucky was literally right behind you, you swiftly changed the subject. “How’s that husband of yours getting on anyway?”
George, said husband of Teddy, had been away for a trip overseas to collect rare editions of books on his wish list (along with a few surprise items for Teddy that you knew of) and as much as Teddy loved to keep up his beloved, bubbly personality alive in the shop, you knew he missed him deep down. The pair of them were two peas in a pod — incomplete without the other. 
So, you were shocked to see a grin crawl on his face as he scanned your book. “You can ask him yourself.”
You were confused until another figure popped their head around the doorway of the back room with a flourish. You gasped and ran towards him, throwing your arms around his neck for a hug. “George! I wasn’t expecting you back so soon!”
George rocked you side to side with a big squeeze before he held you at arms length with fondness to check you over. Your face scrunched up when he booped the tip of your nose. “Yeah well, you can’t keep me away for too long, sweetheart.” Playfully side eyeing Teddy, he brought you closer and whispered loud enough for his husband to hear him say, “Besides, someone has to keep this troublemaker in check, don’t they?” 
“Haven't got the slightest idea what you could mean, Georgie.” Teddy overheard and put on his most innocent face. You giggled into George, amused by his husband’s antics. “I’m an angel.”
Their love encompassed everything you wanted from a life partner. You longed for their banter and their care and the passionate fire that was still raging all these years later between them. 
Looking over to Bucky, you were caught off guard to find him gazing at you already, a smile on his face that slightly scrunched up his nose. 
You stepped back to the counter, heated under the spotlight just as Teddy rang you up with a price. Though, you didn’t miss the seemingly casual glance he made behind you. “Mornin’, Buck. Got any nice plans for today?” 
You frowned, surprised that they were familiar with each other. Bucky cleared his throat before he spoke from behind you, “Just a small visit here today I’m afraid, Ted.”
Teddy still continued to speak over your shoulder as he took a suspiciously long time to bag up your book. “Right,” he murmured. “No plans for the rest of the day then?” 
“Nah.” Bucky's voice rumbled at your back, as if he had taken a step closer to you. “Nothing else, unfortunately. Can’t go anywhere without a pretty date now, can I, Teds?”
Almost immediately, Teddy looked at you, a glint in his eye of excitement before he innocently offered, “I may know someone.” 
You choked, causing all three men to look at you; Teddy had a shit eating grin on his face, while George tried to hide his laughter in his hand — unsuccessfully. You could even feel Bucky’s stare locked in on you from behind. 
“Don’t you dare,” you muttered under your breath to Teddy. 
But you knew by his wicked smile your threat wouldn’t stop him from meddling. “Why don’t you walk little one home after this? Get to know each other,” he said to Bucky. 
Amazed by the man’s audacity, you scolded him. “Teddy!”
“Nonsense, girl,” Teddy rounded the counter to you and slid his arm around your shoulders, turning you towards Bucky before he continued. “Besides, you heard the boy. He needs some company and I know for a fact you’ve got no plans apart from locking yourself at home.” Teddy looked proud of himself as he shrugged. “Problem solved.” 
He wasn’t lying. Although you were a little embarrassed he would out you like that, you in fact did not have any other plans. Traitor. 
“As lovely as Bucky seems, I don’t know him, Ted.” Quickly you glanced at Bucky and shyly uttered, “I mean no offense by that.”
“Don’t worry, dollface,” he said and you just knew by the grin on his face he was about to tease you. “I think I’m used to it by now.” 
Bucky snorted at your mouth falling open in shock.  Cheeky bastard. 
“Oh, dating back in my day was so easy.” Teddy sighed. “You liked the look of someone? You speak to them. You want to get to know them? Great! Ask them out.”
You shook your head in exasperation. The complexities of modern dating weren't as simple as Teddy’s reasoning. Respectful, charming men didn’t just fall from the sky, unfortunately, and fairytales didn’t just happen. 
Looking at Bucky, you gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry about him.” You threw a lighthearted glare at Teddy while you admonished him. “Someone doesn’t know how to keep their mouth shut.”
Bucky waited until you looked at him and shrugged with a lopsided smile. “Eh, I don’t mind the old man so much.” Scratching the back of his head, he admitted, “Especially when he sets me up with pretty girls in bookstores.” 
Okay, maybe a few charming men fell from the sky. 
You clasped your hands together tightly, repressing the urge to squeak from giddiness.
Bucky stepped forward and placed his single book onto the counter before he offered his arm to you. “What do you say, Doll? Fancy humoring me?” 
While Bucky was still technically a stranger, Teddy knew him and one thing you were sure of was that he would never let any harm or danger come to you — you would be safe. 
Sighing lightheartedly, you stepped out of Teddy’s hold and stood before Bucky. You observed the slight bob of his Adam’s apple, taking pleasure in the small victory of his nerves and decided to put him out of his misery. “I guess you wouldn’t be the worst company on my way home.” 
Hooking your arm through Bucky’s, the glee that overtook his adorable face was worth your decision alone. He looked over to Teddy and gave him a single nod. “I'll take good care of her, Ted.”
“You better boy, because now I’m in trouble.” 
You grabbed your book from Teddy, already bagged and paid for. “Me and you will talk next time,” you warned. 
Teddy tightened his lips, hiding his laughter as he saluted you. “Yes, ma’am.” 
Rolling your eyes, you looked to Bucky, “You’re sure you don’t mind? Please don’t feel as though you have to do this.” 
But he just smiled earnestly, subtly pulling you closer towards him. “Believe me when I say I absolutely want to do this.”
Your cheeks warmed, flustered beyond belief. You were relieved as he started to usher you towards the coat rack, helping you pull your coat over your shoulders and wrapping your scarf around you.  
With a departing wave, you said goodbye to both George and Teddy as you began to exit the store. Teddy’s shout of, “Have fun kids, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” was the last thing you both heard before the door closed.
George rounded the counter, having witnessed the whole exchange and curled up to his husbands side. He squinted his eyes in suspicion. “What are you up to, mister?”
Teddy continued to watch the two of you walk into the distance out the window, both jittery, arm in arm and a joint hidden excitement to be together. He just smiled as he shrugged. “Oh, nothing much, dear.”
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“Little one, huh? Very cute.”
“Oh, god,” you groaned, ducking your head in embarrassment.  
Bucky wasn’t deterred by your timidness, however as he gently nudged your shoulder and playfully whispered, “Almost suits you as much as Doll, sweetheart.” 
Your huff of breath froze over in the cold air and you looked up at him with a shy smirk before shaking your head. “You’re good, you know. The women must love this — you stealing them from their daily life and whisking them away on dates.”
Bucky just laughed before he brought you closer to him, slinging an arm over your shoulder as he said, “Oh, so you're admitting this is a date, Doll?” 
You couldn’t help gazing into his stormy blue eyes that lit up in the sunrise above you. He was carved by angels, you swore by it. 
Walking forward, you detached yourself from Bucky’s hold, letting his arm drop, and spoke over your shoulder, “Play your cards right, handsome and we’ll see what this is by the end of the walk.”
You caught the redness creeping up Bucky’s face before you turned your head forward, though you did miss his goofy fist pump in the air. 
The thud of his heavy footsteps neared as he caught up to you and you decided to play dumb when he sneakily snaked his arm through yours. 
“So, Bucky,” you began. “Since we’re still practically strangers, let’s get to know each other.” 
He quickly recovered and nodded in agreement, “Great idea, Doll. What do you wanna know?”
“Tell me what you do for work,” you said. 
Bucky cheekily smiled before asking, “Any guesses before I tell you? No offense will be taken.” 
“Wow,” you laughed. “You’re really making me work for forgiveness aren’t you?” You hummed in thought before saying aloud, “Okay, I have something.” 
He raised his eyebrow. “Hit me with it, Doll.” 
You hesitated a second before you muttered, “A drummer.”
“What?!” Bucky laughed in shock and stared at you, eyes wide. “A drummer?”
Giggling, you held your defense. “Oh, come on! You can’t blame me with the tattoos and the jewelry.” You gestured to his form before shrugging. “You just have this classic rockstar look to you — nothing wrong with that of course.” 
Bucky held his free bare hand out, red from the cold and decorated with black ink. With a smirk, he leaned over to whisper in your ear, “The tattoos doin’ it for ya, Doll?” 
His Brooklyn drawl caused a shiver to run down your spine and you lightly gasped. He chuckled, overly satisfied to have made you flustered while you attempted to keep your dignity in tact. 
You bumped his hip with yours, ignoring his laughter. Brushing his flirtations off to try and keep your composure, you asked, “What is it you do then?”
A proud smile on his face, he answered, “I’m the owner of a vintage bike shop.” 
You turned to look at him, taking in his appearance for the umpteenth time and cocked your head. “Hm… I can see that actually. You got the whole biker aesthetic going for you.” 
You were pleased to see a small dust of red coat his cheeks. “Thanks, Dolly. Got anything else for me?” he asked, squeezing your hand. 
“Do you have any family?” you asked tentatively, worried it may be a sensitive topic. 
But Bucky’s face lit up at the mention and he turned to you, resembling an excited puppy. “I have the best family, Doll. My mom—Winnie, she raised me and my sister, Becca. They’re both amazing women and—“ 
As he went on, you stared at him and admired the way he spoke about the two most important women in his life — so full of love and awe for them that you felt like you knew them yourself. Your own mother had always taught you to take notice of a way a man speaks about other women in order for you to know how he would treat you. You were happy that Bucky did not disappoint. 
Along your walk, you had learnt how Bucky had a secret passion for pottery, something that allowed him to create beauty and art from his calloused and worn hands that years of oil and mechanical work had damaged. You were also over the moon to hear he was an avid reader. Of course you knew he must have a knack for reading if you met him at a bookstore. But, his detailing of certain stories he enjoyed and quotes that had stuck with him from authors he loved had your heart melting even more. 
The two of you continued to ask questions back and forth, learning more about the other as you walked together.  
“So,” Bucky started. “Hypothetically speaking of course, since this isn’t our first date, what would your perfect one look like?” 
You looked at him from the corner of your eye, watching as his eyes suspiciously darted around — whether he was digging for key information or not was a mystery to you. But you decided to answer the question anyway. 
“I think,” you began. “I think I’d enjoy an active date — maybe like a trip to Coney Island? You know the one with the—“
“The cyclone!” Bucky said enthusiastically. “Oh man, I haven’t been there since me and Stevie were kids.” 
“A good friend I take it?” You smiled, secretly enthralled by the way his eyes lit up. 
“The best,” he nodded. “Sorry, Doll. I got a little carried away there.” Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck with the hand that was free. “Carry on.” 
“Don’t worry about it, it was cute.” you assured, before quickly clearing your throat once he started to smirk. “Anyway —  after a couple of rides and games where my date wins me a stuffed bear, a romantic little trip on the ferris wheel would be next and he would pay to stop at the top so we can see the whole of Brooklyn.” 
You feel Bucky’s stare on you as he said, “And then?” 
“Then he would walk me home and kiss me goodnight.” You finished quietly. 
“Interesting,” he mumbled. You didn’t miss the tone of his voice, one that made you skeptical of his antics. “So, kinda like I’m doing now?” 
Smartass, you thought internally. 
“Don’t be getting any ideas, Bucky,” you scolded lightheartedly. “This isn’t a first date, remember? You’re just walking me home.” 
He thinned his lips, trying to contain his smirk. “Of course, of course.” A moment passed in peaceful silence before he muttered, “There’s still time though, right?” 
Bucky ran away and out of your reach before you could land a playful whack to his arm. 
“Come on, Doll — I’m a dateless man!” he shouted. “Are you really gonna leave a poor man high and dry?” 
You scoffed, unable to contain the growing smile on your lips. “In your dreams, Bucky!” 
In hindsight, you should have known his retort wasn’t going to be anything other than cheeky — especially, with his sinful grin that made butterflies flutter in your stomach. “That you will be, Doll.” 
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Beams of light from the sun, breaking through the clouds of the cold day, casted down over Bucky, creating the most heavenly glow over his features. Those ocean blue eyes that starstruck you from the very first look shone bright as ever and his piercings and rings that glistened had you entranced, wondering how they would feel against your body. 
The walk home, while not long, had given you a fair insight to this man you had met not only an hour ago. Bucky was unlike anyone you had met before — sweet but mischievous and the biggest flirt you had ever known. 
Not that you were complaining. 
The two of you were shortening the distance to your apartment. Admittedly, you felt a small ache in your chest, disappointed that the walk had to end so soon. However, the steps to your apartment that you reached signified the end of your time with him. 
Your hands twitched in anticipation. Was it inappropriate to want to see him again? Would you look desperate if you asked for a real date with him? An array of thoughts rushed through your mind until Bucky spoke over the scrambled mess in your head. “Okay. I have a confession to make.” 
You looked up, frowning to witness him twirling the rings around his fingers, dare you say looking as nervous as you felt.  
He had been making you stumble over yourself since your first bump in with his shameless flirtations and smooth moves. But now he was reduced to a man on edge. 
Intrigued, you wished for him to keep talking, curious to know the cause of his unease. “Go on,” you urged, softly.
Bucky nodded and took a deep breath. “I may have seen you. In that same bookstore. A couple of weeks ago.” He ran a hand through his hair, wincing at his inability to formulate his sentences coherently. “I um—found it after wandering around one day. I was in the far corner when I saw you walk in for the first time.” 
Your mouth fell agape, and your eyes widened while you listened intently. Though the shock of his confession rendered you speechless, you were rooted to the spot, hanging onto every word he said. 
Then, he gazed straight into your eyes, stepping closer and you gulped. “I swear I had never seen someone so beautiful in my life. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, Doll.” He shook his head and laughed earnestly. “You’ve had me in a chokehold for the longest time.” 
“But— But earlier?” You tried to get the words out to explain your confusion regarding the way he acted as though you met for the first time. 
Bucky closed the distance between you, tentatively closing his hands over yours. “I’ve seen you every week, walking into that store with your bright eyes, taking in everything like it’s the first time all over again. And every week I found myself in that far corner, obsessing over you and falling for you a little more each time.” He sighed before finishing, “I’d been building up the courage to come up to you until I finally did — Today.”
You could only imagine how you must have looked — a deer in headlights most likely, about to run away. Honestly, you were floored and you weren’t quite sure your mind had caught up yet. 
Attempting to settle your nerves, you cleared your throat. “You’re telling me,” you paused. “You’re telling me you planned on reaching for the same book as me? How did you even know which one I was going for?”
Bucky looked ultimately relieved that you hadn’t slapped him across the face just yet. His fingers twitched against yours while he laughed apprehensively. “Actually, I may have had a tiny bit of help with that one.” 
The cogs turned in your head and after a while the realisation struck you from his suspicious antics this morning. “Teddy!” you gasped. 
“Guilty as charged.” Bucky sheepishly smiled. “I asked him if he thought I had a chance with you the first time I saw you and he gave me some pointers.” 
You couldn’t help the huff of laughter that spilled from your lips. The whole situation was incredulous, something that would never happen to you. 
The tension slipped from Bucky’s shoulders, but his eyes still held on to some hope. Easing his worries, you grinned. “That was brave of you.”
Confidence visibly returned to him as he cockily shrugged, lips curving into his familiar smirk. “It was a risky move to take.”
Placing your hands on his chest, over his black leather jacket, you gave Bucky a run for his money as you caught his shudder with your eagle eye and decided to play him at his own game. “Some might even say creepy.”
“Oh yeah?” Bucky licked his lips and smoothed his hands over your hips. “Is that why you’re grinning like you’ve just found your future husband, Doll?”
This man, you thought to yourself. “You’re cheeky,” you replied aloud while you gripped his jacket. 
“And you like it.” He squeezed your hips.
There was hardly any distance between you; eyes glued to the others like neither of you could bear to look away. 
His eyes hooded as he joked playfully, “You gonna invite me up?” 
You smacked his chest, watching the crows feet by his eyes crinkle with amusement in the sweetest way. “I don’t put out on the first date,” you batted back. 
You weren’t prepared for the sudden shiver that rippled down your spine as he whispered, “Clever girl.” 
The charged air heightened your senses, you could feel every minute movement his fingers made, the way his thumb rubbed back and forth over your waist. 
“Can I have your name now?” Bucky disrupted the silence between you as his gaze flicked between your eyes. 
The rebellious nature from earlier had only come back tenfold. Coming within a hair's breadth away from his lips, you daringly muttered, “I’ll give it to you on our next date.”
His eyes lit up, like a kid on Christmas. “Next date?”
Pushing him away with a smirk, you held your hand out while he dazed at you longingly. “Phone,” you said confidently. 
You held in your laughter as Bucky quickly fumbled over himself, patting each of his pockets to find his mobile. Once located, he quickly slid it out of his leather jacket and into the palm of your hand. 
The glow of his screen lit up your face while Bucky tried sneaking a peek. But you shoo’d him away and carried on typing into his phone. 
Finally, you were finished and handed the phone back to him. With eagerness he grabbed it and instantly smiled with joy once he saw the screen. “Your number?” 
“Use it wisely, handsome,” you purred. Leaving him staring at you in his own haze, you walked up the steps to your apartment, a sway to your hips. You couldn’t be completely sure whether you heard Bucky stifle a choke from behind you, but you ignored it for the sake of his ego. 
Reaching the door to the lobby, you spun around on your feet and raised an eyebrow in question. “See you soon?” 
Bucky grinned from ear to ear. “Absolutely, Doll.” 
With that, you waved him goodbye and swung the door open, missing his besotted stare following you until you were out of sight. 
You raced up the stairs, holding in your excitement while you entered your apartment. As soon as your apartment door was shut behind you, you released the squeal that had been trapped in your throat while you danced on the spot. 
And at midnight, as you laid in bed thinking about Bucky, your phone chimed and you instantly grabbed with haste. The bright screen stung your eyes but once you saw who had texted you, they shot open — a thrill causing you to bite your lip and squeak.
Unknown Number: I was supposed to be asleep by 12 but you’re still on my mind. 
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A few weeks later…
Teddy and his husband, George were readying the shop to open again after closing because of maintenance. The early morning was quiet yet peaceful; the only thing to be heard were the birds singing their song as the sun rose and shone into the shop windows. 
George leaned his elbow on the counter and sighed with nostalgia as he reminisced back to the beginning of their relationship. “Do you remember our first date, honey?”
Teddy spun around from his task of shelving the newly released books and smiled lovingly. “How could I forget?” 
The two gazed over the space between them, lost in their own bubble of harmony when the chime of the bell above the door snapped them out of their reverie. They both knew it was the usual time you would visit the shop, precise to a fault. 
With bright smiles, the pair looked towards the door, ready to greet you as was routine. But George gasped loudly when they found something a little extra glued to your side. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
Teddy, however, kept quiet — no vocal response to be heard, only the visible large grin on his face once he caught you looking at him with a sheepish smile. 
“Well, good mornin’, little one,” he said teasingly.
You hid behind the tall frame next to you, embarrassed from being the center of attention. “Hi, Teds. Hi George,” your mousy voice spoke up. 
Easing the attention of you, Teddy glanced to your side and raised his eyebrow with a smirk. “Bucky.”
Your new boyfriend smiled and nodded his head in greeting to both men. “Good to see you, fellas.” Gently, Bucky grabbed your hand and pulled you with him as he began to lead you away. “Catch up with you shortly.”
Giggles and laughter echoed through the shop as you followed him down the closest aisle of books and away from prying eyes. 
George rounded the counter and came to his husband’s side, looking at him with a sneaking suspicion. “You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that would you, honey?”
Teddy thinned his lips, hiding his smile as he glimpsed at the two of you disappearing from his sight before getting back to shelving the books in his hand. He spoke over his shoulder, with all the innocence he could muster. “Me? Not at all, George — That’s nothing but a little bit of magic from Cupid.”
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👏👏
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“Uh... Thank you.”
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“What’re these for?”
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“It’s for Christmas!”
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“What’s Christmas?”
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“It’s a holiday from where Ghost is from."
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“It told us it’s for a man named Jesus who was the son of God. It’s his birthday.”
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“Alright.”
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“Mary was sitting in the sun outside her house. It was a normal day; a bit of cooking, a bit of helping around the house. She was having a few minutes rest, when suddenly an angel appeared.
“‘Are you Mary?' he asked.
“’Yes, who are you?' the startled girl replied.
“’I’m an angel from God, and I have a surprise for you. You’re going to have a baby.’
“Mary raised her hand to her mouth. ‘It would be a surprise, I’m not even married.’...”
...
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“... The three wise men were just going to go back home when God said: 'Don’t tell Herod where Jesus is. He wants to hurt him, not worship him.'
"’Right,” they said. 'We’ll go back a different way.'
“They did, and so King Herod never found out where Jesus was.”
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“Alright, now let’s see what everyone got.”
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“A doll! Thank you!”
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“Sweet, a cookbook!”
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“Was that a pun?”
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“Maaaaybe...”
It was a happy little accident, truth be told.
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“A necklace!”
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“It’s beautiful.”
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“Oh, tea. What flavor?”
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“A toy bird... Uh... Thanks”
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“Turn its tail?”
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“It flies!”
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“More toy soldiers!”
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“Oh, ribbons! Thank you.”
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“Oh, I got a doll too! Annabelle, maybe we can have a tea party.”
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“Tomorrow?”
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“Tomorrow.”
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“Can I come too? I’ll bring some of Mama’s bloodleaf tea.”
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“You’re a boy...”
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“And bring your soldiers!”
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“And you too, Ghost.”
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“Oh, I got something for you!”
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💞
“You’re welcome.”
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buckyalpine · 3 months
Text
Some shy Bucky with meddling Sam and Steve and a cute little baker. 
Bucky hummed at the warm drink that danced on his tongue, a new creation that the sweet girl at the bakery had insisted he try. He wasn’t big on experimenting but ever since he’d visited the shop, he couldn’t say no to the human form of sunshine that stood behind the counter, always offering him something new to she’d made. Today, the flavors of vanilla and praline were infused in his coffee, your latest combination you had made just for him.
“So, thoughts?” You smiled hopefully, the twinkle in your eyes making Bucky blush like a school boy. 
“It’s delicious doll, thank you” He slid you a 5, shaking his head when you tried to give him back change, “Keep it, if anything I should be paying you more for something that good”
You giggled, waving goodbye to the handsome super soldier as he left, the dainty bell to the door of your shop ringing on his way out. What started off as a one time thing became a daily occurrence; Bucky would go for a morning walk or run and stop by the bakery before making his way back. He enjoyed his new routine, getting a coffee, talking to the angel that worked there, grabbing a cookie, getting to see her smile, trying a new drink, fuck, that sweet laugh. 
Now that it was getting warmer, you’d started to introduce him to cold drinks with fruit flavors and different colors. It had been almost three months since he’d first visited; your bakery was a sold part of his day now and he going to change it any time soon. 
“I’ll be able to open a whole new shop with how much you keep tipping me Jamie” you shook your head while he chuckled, sliding the change back to you. 
“Well if there's anyone that deserves it, it’s you” The smirk he gave you caused butterflies to fly madly around your tummy; you had no business crushing on the handsome soldier but he made it so hard! 
Bucky couldn’t stop smiling as he walked back to the compound, humming to himself with another new creation of yours to try. He wouldn’t quite remember the name of what you’d given him but he loved it nonetheless, adoring the sprinkles you added on top just because. 
"I thought you only drank black coffee” Sam cocked an eyebrow from where he was sitting in the kitchen as Bucky walked in, seeing the bright pink and blue drink the brunette was holding. A shit eating grin made it’s way to his face while Bucky groaned.
“Don’t start-
“Who is she. C’mon, big grumpy, staring machine like you drinking unicorn in a cup?” 
“There is no she” Bucky hissed while Sam raised his hands in defeat, not the least bit convinced. 
“Whatever you say” 
One nosy, sneaky Sam and Steve mission later,
“For fucks sake, Dear God” Bucky groaned seeing his two best friends already sitting at the counter chatting up his angel, both men grinning when they heard Bucky walk in. 
“Hi Jamie!” you smiled while Steve chuckled to himself seeing the brunette glower at them. 
“Awww, hi Jamie” Sam cooed, making a kissy face that Bucky would’ve smacked off if you weren’t standing right there. “We didn’t know you came to this place” 
“Jamie comes here all the time” You smiled, making his regular order while Bucky huffed, his annoyance melting away watching you flit behind the counter, handing him his coffee and a fresh cookie. 
“Does he now” Steve snorted, looking at Bucky watching you with heart eyes, 
“Y’know, y/n was saying she wanted to see that movie you’ve been going on about” Sam stated, nudging Bucky’s shoulder, “You know the one you’ve been dying to see too? Maybe you could both go. Thanks for the coffee y/n” 
Bucky stared at Sam with panicked wide eyes, the pink on his cheeks spreading to his neck and ears. Sam and Steve made their way out while Steve gave Bucky’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze along with a knowing smile. 
Go for it. 
“You - wouldn’t-with me- would-would you want to?” He sputtered out while you giggled with a nod making him relax. “Sorry, it’s been so long” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, collecting himself. “and my friends are idiots” 
“I’d love you” you whispered, leaning over to give he blushing soldier a peck on his cheek.
“It’s a date, doll” Bucky winked, loving the bashful smile you gave him, his charming self slowly coming back. He’d eventually owe Sam and Steve $20 each when they end up being the best men at his wedding but it would be worth it. 
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pisupsala · 15 days
Text
Hitchin' a ride
Or two times you told John Egan no, and the one time you said yes.
John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader Words: 7k / one shot Warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, hospitals
It gets dark early in winter in East Anglia. By the time you leave the ward, it’s pitch dark despite it barely being past dinner time. Huddled in your dark blue wool cape, you trudge along the side of the road, holding a small torch to light your way. There’s a cold, biting wind tonight, and it feels like it’s going through every layer you’re wearing, straight through your bones. Breath shuddering, you pick up your pace, the gravel barrier between the road and the grass crunching under your standard-issue brown boots. The faster you get back to the nurse’s barracks, the faster you’re out of this wind and soaking your sore feet and cold toes.
Thorpe Abbots sprawls strangely, but you usually don’t mind. The quiet walk at the end of the long shifts in the operating room, rounds on the intensive care ward, cleaning, and inventory is your moment of solace. A moment where you can finally let the smile fall off your face, where you can grit out the curses you've bitten back all day, the crinkle in time when you are allowing the tears to well up and drip down your face silently.
There is no textbook or training to prepare you for the horrific reality. Torn flesh, burns, and the blood. The fear and agony. The pained screaming. The blind panic.
You have never felt more that you are where you need to be, yet you are so completely and utterly powerless.
A light catches your eye, reflecting on the trees around you in a ghostly flicker. Glancing over your shoulder, the light floats through the darkness, gliding towards you. The soft ding of a bicycle bell pulls you out of your reverie. Turning fully, the light casting off your torch finally illuminates the figure on the bicycle. 
“Major Egan,” You greet him, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice. He has no reason to be here. There’s nothing down this road but the building with the nurses’ quarters. It’s not the first time you’ve encountered Major Egan somewhere he has no reason to be. But you, as an army nurse and merely a first lieutenant, are not about to question him on that.
“You shouldn’t be walking here alone at night, lieutenant,” He tells you, stopping next to you. You stop, too, taking a good look at him—because why wouldn’t you—as he gets off his bike. 
A little too friendly, a little too forward. His bright, sharp blue eyes are contrasted by luscious dark curls and that devilish smile. Tall, broad-shouldered, and moving with a confident grace, he is hard to miss. And if you were to somehow overlook him in a crowd, he commands, demands, attention. There is something dangerously magnetic about him, something electric.
You best keep your distance.
“Don’t worry about me, please, Major,” You reply politely. “It’s not late, and I know the way,” 
“Are you done for today?” He asks conversationally, smiling, his eyes crinkling happily. The tips of his ears are red from the cold. In the middle of a quiet road, in the dark, in freezing temperatures, it’s an odd place for polite conversation.
“Yes, I’m heading back to my quarters,” You smile. “Long day,” You add, hoping to cut the conversation short, desperately trying to suppress the full body shiver from the cold. You notice with some envy that Major Egan seems wonderfully unbothered by the biting wind in his sheepskin jacket. You nod at him, turning back in the direction you had been heading, gingerly taking a step. Hopefully, he gets the hint.
“I could give you a ride,” 
You stop dead in your tracks, looking back at him wide-eyed. 
“I’m heading in the same direction, so you’d get there quicker,” He beams at you with that brilliant smile, patting the carrier at the back of the bike. Instinctively, you start shaking your head, trying to keep yourself from vocalizing your thoughts.
You’d be out of the wind. You’d be in the warm faster. You’d have to get close to Major Egan and hold on to him. You bet that that sheepskin jacket is nice and warm. You bet Major Egan is nice and warm.
“Isn’t that the bike you almost lost an eye for?” Your sense of self-preservation is stronger, has to be stronger, than any magnetic force or joking flirtation from Major John Egan.
“Almost?” He seems surprised you brought it up but recovers quickly. “I remember it differently — it was a bullseye, not my eye,” 
He looks at you like he’s expecting you to laugh with him, but you just blink in disbelief. That’s an awful joke. For a mere second, in the reflected light of your torch, you see his smile falter—he’s smart; he knew that was a dud. You purse your lips.
“I suppose I like my rides without stories of near-eye trauma attached,” You muse. It’s such a flimsy excuse.  
“Do you think it’s bad luck?” It’s a chillingly honest question, and all cheer has suddenly disappeared from his voice. You pause to think. It hadn’t really occurred to you that Major Egan might be a particularly superstitious man; somehow, he didn’t seem the type. But in these times, superstition creeps up on even the most staunch rationalists.
“Luck has nothing to do with it, Major,” you finally admit, eyeing him carefully. He frowns, suddenly unsure of the gravity of the conversation through his own too-candid question. “I would just hate to encourage any of that sort of behavior,” You add lightly.
“So, you would have accepted if I had a different bike?” He sounds on the precipice of hopeful, but the laughter in his voice is evident again. He changes so quickly and bounces back from everything in a mere second — it’s all a joke, after all. He’ll do you a favor and then jokingly ask for a kiss. And then maybe another. And then he’ll move on to whatever or whoever catches his eye next. 
You wrinkle your nose. No. You’re not interested, you repeat to yourself. If you were, you might as well have stayed at home and practiced your good graces at dinner parties. You joined the Army Nurse Corps because you wanted to do something, mean something.
“I’m going now,” You clench your jaw to stop your teeth from clattering. “Good night, Major Egan,”
“Suit yourself, lieutenant,” He grins, undeterred, as he watches you turn on your heel, huddling into yourself to protect yourself from the wind. Truthfully, Bucky wasn’t expecting that you would accept his offer. If anything, he wanted to see how you’d react: your replies are always calm and composed, so very proper, but you have a bad poker face. From the way you scrunch up your nose in annoyance to how the corner of your mouth sometimes threatens to pull into a smile at his jokes. And Bucky notices that your gaze lingers just slightly longer than would be polite, although nothing coming out of your mouth would corroborate that. It’s adorable. It’s intriguing. And he knows you won’t make it easy on him.
But that’s not why he keeps thinking about you. That’s not why he goes out of his way to look for you.
You suddenly took root in his thoughts only a few weeks back. It had been a bad day. Worse than Bucky had seen in a while, there had been many bad days lately. 
Being Air Exec has some perks, mostly that other people don’t really question why he’s wandering the halls of the infirmary at the dead of night. In the hallway, set up on provisional cots, medics are asleep, still fully dressed. They just collapsed on the first soft spot the moment they could. He can hardly blame them.
His footsteps echo through the dark rooms. The wounded men in the beds are fast asleep — it’s eerily quiet except for the occasional snore. 
He’s not sure why he’s here. Maybe it’s to assuage some of the guilt he’s feeling — he’s fine after all. He didn’t go up with them, after all. Maybe because he needs to see the pain with his own eyes, afraid that he’ll forget.
The doctor on duty is doing rounds, his desk empty, when Bucky slips through the swinging double doors to where the heaviest casualties are put up. The air in the room feels different—heavier. It’s not quiet—labored breathing, raspy, sometimes gurgling, groans of pain in artificial sleep. He really shouldn’t be here. 
All beds are full.
It’s been a really bad day.
It’s there that he notices you first: sitting on the floor, arms crossed and tucked up against yourself, head leaning against the wall, and legs bent at an uncomfortable angle. In the first second, he thinks someone fell out of their bed. But as Bucky gets closer, he recognizes you — the seersucker cotton dress, the matching cap now crumpled and skewed on your head, and the clearly scuffed and dirty white oxfords. You are one of the OR nurses.
He’s seen you around, just in passing. In chaos between casualties, just from the corner of his eye. Sometimes, you showed up at dances or parties, and Bucky had noticed your cute laugh from across the room, the way your entire face lit up when you smiled. And he knows he’s not the only one who has noticed the delightful sway of your hips as you walk, evident even through your dress uniform. But you made damn sure to make yourself unavailable by sticking with your girlfriends. He’s never seen you accept a drink or dance with someone.
Your mouth is slightly open as you breathe deeply, your form cast in the pale moonlight peeking through the sides of the blinds. Bucky wouldn’t let a woman sleep on the floor in normal circumstances, but in this case, waking you up would be cruel — there isn’t a bed free in the whole hospital. And even bad sleep is better than no sleep.
He moves past you carefully, mentally putting names to all the men here. Those that made it. That’s a good thing, right? They made it. Bucky doesn’t recognize the figure moaning in pain louder and louder, hands desperately grasping at the neatly tucked-in covers —  his entire head is covered with a thick layer of white bandages, not even leaving a slit for his eyes, just a small opening for his mouth. He hesitates before his curiosity takes over and moves by the side of the bed to look closer. It’s a good thing, right?
He should do something to help him.
Bucky is so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice you brushing past him. He almost jumps out of his skin when your torch suddenly clicks on at the foot of the bed. You are bleary-eyed, blinking rapidly as your eyes fly over the patient chart. 
“He is due for a new round of pain medication,” You state softly, voice still thick with sleep, before looking up at Bucky. “Major,” is all you say in acknowledgment of him.
“Nurse—lieutenant,” He mumbles in reply, increasingly on edge from the patient’s distress. “What are you—” Before he can start running his mouth in confused ramble, you trust the torch at him.
“Hold this, please, Major,” Your voice is barely above a whisper, yet it cuts through the noises easily in its steadiness and calmness. The small torch is now in his hand, your fingers brushing over his palm unintentionally as you move through the dark. It’s like a small spark burned the spot where your fingertip touches his skin. “Up, please,”
Bucky complies, shining the light from a high angle as you prepare a syringe. You look exhausted, but nothing in your movement betrays that. Clinical, precise, and so calm. He watches you speak softly to your patient, your free hand wrapped loosely around his wrist, a syringe poised in the other. But the patient is struggling harder, too panicked, and in too much pain. 
It happens in a split second.
The patient sits up so quickly that Bucky almost stumbles back in surprise. The patient now has an iron grip on your lower arm, white knuckles, moving in a blind frenzy, pulling you clean off your feet, half over the bed. You yelp in as much surprise as in pain as your knee collides with the metal bed frame. Your face is contorted in pain as you struggle back, trying to regain your footing. 
“It’s okay, I’m here to help you,” You keep repeating patiently. Never let them know you are scared: they can’t calm down if you are not in control.
Your voice doesn’t waver one bit. Bucky clenches the small torch between his teeth, trying to free your arm from the patient’s grip. 
“N- no” You breathe, clearly in pain now. “Please, Major, just help me to hold him still,” 
You are still holding the syringe, poised to strike. Grabbing the patient by the shoulder and forcing him back against the pillow. In the struggle, the torch falls from his mouth. It clatters on the tile floor and rolls away. He is so focused on his task that it’s almost by surprise when the struggle ends within a few seconds, and the patient drifts off again. He never saw you give the injection.
You both stand there, breathing heavily. Bucky bends down to retrieve the torch from the floor. It’s still shining, although it flickers uncertainly with every move. When he straightens back up, he catches you looking at your arm, the brown sleeve of your vest rolled up messily. When you realize he’s looking at you, you pull the sleeve back down and busy yourself tucking the patient back in. But Bucky has seen the angry red fingerprints imprinted on your forearm.
“Thank you, Major Egan,” Not a quiver in your tone, although your breathing has barely slowed down. “It’s probably best you go now,” 
“Are you alright?” He cannot help but ask, gaze traveling to your arm. He can’t help but notice you must have been issued a vest a size up, as the sleeves are a bit too long on you. It’s adorable.
“Please don’t worry about me,” You reply, smiling, but it’s clearly a deflection. The corners of your mouth are quirked up, but your eyes just spell tired. “You should try to get some rest, Major. The sun will be up soon,”
There is a certain sense of irony in you telling him that. At least he has a bed to go to, you think wryly. You start walking towards the ward exit, signaling he should follow you. 
“Will you be okay here by yourself, lieutenant?” It’s not his place to worry about you, but you are just… you. And these men are in pain, scared, and -
“The doctor will be back from his rounds soon,” Your soft voice pulls Bucky from his thoughts. You stand at the door, holding it open for him. If he hadn’t just seen that chaos happen, he would have never guessed by your demeanor anything happened.  As he passes you, you salute him. He salutes you back, gazing over to you. The tips of your fingers are shaking. 
The thought is sudden and overwhelming: he wants to lace his fingers through yours, pull you against him, and hold you until you stop shaking.
“Goodnight, Major,” You whisper with a pointed look. You want him out of here so you can check on your throbbing knee and painful arm away from his prying eyes.
“Goodnight, lieutenant,” He replies, tearing his eyes away from you.
***
In early spring, it seems like the rain never stops, from semi-permanent drizzle to raindrops rhythmically ticking against the window pane to the torrential downpour you find yourself in now. The drab-colored trench coat is putting up a valiant fight to keep you dry.
You’re holding your purse over your head but to no avail. The cold trickle of water from your sodden hair travels down your spine. You’re trailing behind your friends, who are making good time through the storm. Water sloshes in your left boot, making it heavy, the drenched woolen sock rubbing painfully against your foot. 
Then you hear it. The all too-happy ding of a bicycle bell. 
You try to walk faster, gritting your teeth, but Major Egan has caught up with you in just seconds. You don’t stop to greet him, just glancing over at him with narrowed eyes. Gracefully, he jumps off the bike, matching your pace by foot easily. His dark curls are plastered to his forehead, his cap sagging under the weight of the water it must have absorbed. He shouldn’t look this good, sopping wet, especially when you feel so wretched.
“Lieutenant, I could get you where you need to be a whole lot quicker,” he calls out.
“No, thank you, Major,” Your tone is polite, but you keep walking, falling behind further and further from your friends as your left boot squelches with every step. You know he noticed. 
“You’re really not going to take me up on the offer? Even in this downpour?” 
“Most drops miss,” You can’t keep the scowl off your face as you march on. 
“You are so unbelievably stubborn,” He laughs. You don’t think you’re stubborn; you just don’t like feeling like your hand is being forced. 
“I don’t need you to save me, Major.” You tell him evenly, finally stopping and turning to him. You know your friends noticed you stopping but probably figured they were doing you a favor and kept going. 
Bucky regards you carefully — you look miserable. The curl has long been rained out of your hair; rivulets of water running down your face, dripping on the collar of your trench coat. The steep downturn of the corners of your mouth pretty much just seals the deal. But despite all the evidence, you would never admit you’re anything but fine. 
“Save you?” He sounds incredulous. Like the thought never even crossed his mind. 
You bite your lip — you might have said too much. But you are afraid that he might ask you for something if you owe Major Egan a favor. He will ask you for something. And you won’t be strong enough to tell him no maybe because you want him to ask. Who wouldn’t?
You’ve seen him look at you from across the room before, and when you scrape together the courage to meet his gaze, it’s like electricity. Short, intense, and almost painful. And then he looks away, his attention turning so fleetingly. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
“Forget it,” You mumble, clearly embarrassed. Closing your eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, you wish nothing about this moment was happening right now. When you peek through your lashes at Major Egan, you note he looks concerned.
“For what it’s worth,” He clears his throat, not a trace of humor in his voice. “I never considered you to require saving, lieutenant.” 
You keep looking at him sharply, finally shaking your head. “You have a funny way of showing it.” 
There is something deeply absurd about the whole conversation. Just tell him no. Just bid him goodnight and leave. Why are you even entertaining him with your feelings on this? And it’s clearly entertainment to him.
“I’m going to my quarters now, Major,” You state, feeling the need to be polite despite your increasingly impolite feelings about the situation. “And you’re going in the wrong direction,” You add pointedly as you start walking again. It feels like you have an entire puddle in your boot now.
“So what would you prefer, lieutenant? A more classic approach?” That devastatingly handsome grin is back on his face again as he walks beside you. How is that what he took from your last statement? Your shoulders sag when you feel the butterflies in your stomach. “At the next dance, I buy you a drink and sweep you off your feet on the dance floor?” 
“I might be more agreeable when it’s not freezing or raining,” You sigh like it’s paining you to admit it. Maybe he’s imagining it, but Bucky likes to think he saw the shadow of a smile pass over your face as you say it, even though your voice is painfully neutral. 
“Is that a yes?” Again, that hopeful edge. 
“No,” You reply curtly, but you feel bad the moment you say it because you see his smile fall — he’s staring at you somewhere between confusion and growing frustration. It’s making you feel bad. A horrible little selfish part of you wants him to only smile at you. Major Egan could light up a room with that smile — he regularly does. The selfish little monster in you wants to be the reason that he smiles like that. 
“Ask me again at the dance, Major,” You amend carefully.
The way his face breaks out in that broad, beaming smile makes you weak at the knees. 
***
Bucky is on pins and needles tonight. Even Buck, usually so even-tempered, is getting irritated with him. Drumming his fingers on the bar, tapping his foot not to the beat of the music but to blow off some of the anxious energy. People are flittering in and out of the hall, but there is no sign of you yet. He’s going through his whiskey too quickly, and it’s doing very little to calm his anticipation.
After an hour of only half-listening to the conversation going on around him, constantly glancing at his watch, he finally sees the pack of nurses come in. Bucky’s heart drops a little because you aren’t with the group. You’re always with that group. Knocking back the rest of his drink, he resolutely makes his way to the table now occupied by five gossiping nurses. All eyes are on him as he approaches.
“Good evening, ladies,” He smiles, eyes searching the table. All chairs are occupied — clearly, your friends aren’t saving you a seat. A chorus of good evenings and giggles comes in reply.
“How can we help you, Major Egan?” A blonde nurse asks, peering up through her lashes.
“I’m actually looking for my favorite nurse,” He replies easily, holding his smile despite feeling mildly annoyed. When he mentiones your name, another chorus of giggles. 
“I thought I was your favorite nurse,” One of the girls pipes up. The girls burst out laughing.
“She’s on the night shift,” An earnest, young-looking nurse cuts in, pushing up her glasses. Bucky doesn’t really recognize her — she must be quite new. “I asked to switch shifts because I haven’t been to a dance here before.”
“You should have found someone from the afternoon shift,” the blonde nurse sighs in a bored tone. “The poor girl is putting in a double shift now,”
“No one else would switch with me,” The bespectacled nurse defends herself with a small voice.
Bucky should be annoyed. Did you scheme this out on purpose? You run so hot and cold between your lingering looks and thinly veiled barbs. But then again. Of course, you would switch shifts with the new girl out of kindness. You slept on the floor to stay close to those most needed care. Doc sang your praises in the officer’s mess regularly for staying late to finish inventory, covering in emergencies, and keeping the OR running smoothly. Kindly caring for everyone around you.
He should be annoyed. But instead, he feels jealous. It’s a horrible feeling. But you cared more about the new girl than him? Is it really so bad that he wants your kind attention aimed at him? That he wants to be your choice? You wouldn’t even give him a shot. 
It just won’t do. But now, at least, he knows where to find you.
At the end of the dark hall, a faint light. A lone lamp on a lone desk, with a lone nurse sitting at it. You hear him coming, of course. Your bright eyes look straight at him as he emerges from the darkness. You are already getting up out of your chair, ready to greet him, notes and medical textbook forgotten on the desk.
“Good evening, Major Egan,” you greet him, your voice soft. Your gentle tone carries sweetly through the quiet hall. You didn’t expect him to come find you. It feels far too serious, far too earnest. You haven’t seen or spoken to Major Egan for over a week now, and for your own sake, you decide that he hadn’t been serious—that you hadn’t been serious. It was just banter.
Truthfully, you were slightly relieved the new girl asked you to switch shifts. But as you sat at the duty desk by yourself, blankly staring at the pages of your medical textbook, your stomach twisted painfully with regret. 
“Good evening, lieutenant -” you cut him off with a sharp shush, tapping your index finger against your lips. You step a bit closer to him, voice a sweet whisper. “Please keep it down,” 
A beat of silence as you’re both clearly uncomfortable in the strange situation you have suddenly found yourself in.
“How can I help you, Major?” You whisper politely as your eyes nervously, guiltily, dart around the room—anywhere but him. He looks sharp in his dress uniform. He smells nice. He clearly made an effort. And you’re standing here in your day-old hospital uniform. Self-consciously, you try to straighten the standard-issue white and brown stripe wrap-around dress. 
“I came looking for my favorite nurse,” Bucky replies sincerely, eyes boring into yours. 
“Then you must not be looking for me,” The words tumble out before you can stop yourself. Bucky nearly bursts out laughing at the pained look that crosses your face as you clamp your mouth shut. 
“I was waiting for you to show up at the dance,” He says with that same heavy sincerity. His stance is casual, hands in pockets and shoulders relaxed. But the way he fidgets — tapping and shuffling his foot — as he waits for you to reply hints that he is not nearly as calm as he’d like to appear.
“I had to stay,” You reply, still avoiding his gaze. It’s a half-truth. You could have said no. But the new girl seemed to want to go to the dance more badly than you did. It felt unfair. And you had convinced yourself quite thoroughly that Major Egan wouldn’t care or notice anyway.
Another silence falls. Neither quite sure where to go from here.
“How are the boys doing?” Bucky asks conversationally, reaching out to the large doors leading into the intensive care unit. On a whim, you grab his hand before he touches the handle, your fingers gently wrapping over the top of his large hand. He stills, and for a moment, you think he’ll shake your hand off his. But instead, he waits in acceptance.
“It won’t help you,” You whisper. It took you a while to figure out why Major Egan was in the hospital that night. When people spoke of him, they spoke of how much he cared for his men — a heavy burden to bear.
“Help me?” His voice is suddenly loud. He is offended at the notion that he’s doing it for himself and offended that you called him out like that. He opens his mouth again to argue with you.
Startled by the volume, your brain misfires fully, and instead of replying, your free hand reaches out to his face, your index finger landing on his soft lips to silence him. He stares at you wide-eyed. You are sure you look as shocked as he does. You try to gather your thoughts quickly.
“I - I understand,” You implore him in an urgent whisper, finally looking at him. Bucky sees his own sorrow reflected in your eyes. 
Sometimes, you can only wait. There is no next round of medicine; there is no operation that will help. Waiting for the body to do its work can be frustrating and maddeningly slow.
“But there is nothing you can do now, so going in won’t help you or them,” You swallow. Why is your finger still on his lips, and why is he letting you do that? “They need to rest. You need to rest.”
His fingers lace through yours as he steps closer. It’s inappropriate how close he is standing to you. It’s inappropriate how the tips of your fingers caress the seam of his lips. It’s inappropriate how your hand has latched onto his, his thumb drawing lazy circles on the pulse point of your wrist.
“I don’t need rest.” His voice is soft and close. The intimacy of his lips moving against your fingers is intense, each breath setting your nerve endings on fire. He leans into your touch, trailing from the corner of his mouth to his jaw. Finally, you look at him.
“Then what do you need?” Your question comes automatically. Always looking for how to help. Always so kind. He could melt into your soft touch, warm voice, and how you look at him so sweetly.
“I need to know when you’re done here so I can sweep you off your feet,” His eyes meet yours, keenly following your every move. 
You want to take a step back and break the increasingly feverish connection, away from his oddly earnest confession, but Bucky pulls you closer with a small tug on your hand. Your head is swimming; your heart is hammering in your chest. You shouldn’t entertain any of this, but it feels like your heart is pouring out of your mouth.
“My shift ends at 0500,” 
Bucky grins at you—not in a teasing way, but with that infectious broad smile—the one you cannot help but smile back. It gives you butterflies. You’re smiling at him now, beautifully, genuinely. It feels like a victory to Bucky.
“I’ll keep the party going if you promise me the last dance.” His voice is low and inviting; he is reeling you in further with every word.
“Don’t torture everyone on my account, please,” You feebly try to inject some levity into the situation. You know yourself well enough: you are no match for John Egan and his attentions. From sparks across the room, now it’s like you’ve touched the live wire, and the current has a hold on you. That’s why you always avoided him so.  
“Torture? Darling, it’s a party,” He needles you gently, eyes glinting merrily. “Only you would equate that to torture.” 
“Major -,” “Bucky,” He interjects. You blink at him, biting your lip. 
“Bucky, please,” The moment you utter his name, so beguilingly, so breathlessly, he presses your palm against his face fully, his hand covering yours. He needs you closer. The golden buttons of his jacket brush against the front of your dress. His lips press against the soft flesh of your hand as he studies your reaction. The hitch in your breath is embarrassingly loud to your ears. 
“Please, what?” 
“Don’t torment me like this,” It sounds even more pathetic when you say it out loud. And exactly as you’d expect, the admission of your weakness, the slightest chink in your armor, is an in for him. 
“How do I torment you, exactly?” His voice is so warm, so encouraging. 
“You take far too much pleasure in making fun of me, for one,” You try to play it off in a last-ditch attempt. But under his heated gaze, his breath brushing on the sensitive skin of your wrist, you falter. You frown before you utter in a small voice: “It’s not nice how you toy with me, Bucky, because it’s obvious that… that it’s just a joke to you, and your idea of a joke could get me dismissed, and sent home,”
You look down at your shoes, embarrassed. You want to pull away, but Bucky is not allowing you an inch of slack.
“It’s not a joke to me.” He sounds surprised. You look up at him, unable to keep the skepticism off your face. “It wasn’t a joke from that night I saw how calmly you handled that panicked patient, the moment you saluted me with those shaky fingers, and then every time you denied my help, you stubborn, stubborn girl,” His face is so close to yours now; a finger tracing down the side of your neck, down, just along the collar of your dress, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The way your hand rests on his cheek, you could pull him even closer if you wanted to. “I’ve wanted to grab hold of you, wrap you around me-”
Footsteps. You pull back from Bucky with a jerky movement, who mercifully releases you immediately, stumbling back two steps, almost hitting the desk with your legs. It’s strangely cold suddenly without his hands wrapped around yours, without him so close you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. Blood is rushing in your ears. Bucky looks too collected, but to your relief, you spy a faint blush creeping up his neck. 
So it wasn’t just you.
Hands folded, you take another furtive step back behind the desk, making sure there’s a respectable distance between you as the doctor on duty turns the corner. Bucky and the doctor start talking in low voices, but you are not listening. In your mind, you keep returning to his words, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. 
That night on the ward. That was the first time you spoke and saw each other in more than passing. That’s when Bucky suddenly formed this habit of popping in places he had no business of being. Places you happened to frequent. You really hadn’t been vain enough to consider that the common denominator in those situations was you. It had to be a coincidence that he had just turned into a joke. 
“Nurse,” The doctor turns to you, handing you his clipboard. You nearly jump out of your skin, being so lost in thought. “Please update the log,”
“Yes, doctor,” You nod, trying not to look as flustered as you feel. The men start leaving, still talking. 
“Good night, lieutenant,” Bucky turns to you, unable to keep the cocky smile off his face. Before he turns, he winks at you. It makes your knees so weak you nearly collapse back into your chair. Covering your face with your hands, you try to focus, but the smile won’t come off your face.
Seven more hours until your shift ends.
***
It’s a misty summer morning, dew covering every inch. The sun is just breaking through the clouds, and it’s promising to be a beautiful day.
When you leave the infirmary, you blink against the early morning sun. It’s still so early that few people are around. You hesitate. Surely, the party is not still going on. You wouldn’t put it past Bucky to actually do it. Rubbing your eyes and yawning, you’re unsure if you could even stay on your feet long enough for a dance.  
Luckily, you don’t have to make a choice. 
The sound of the bicycle bell makes you smile now. Bucky’s looking remarkably fresh and well-rested. The party clearly didn’t go that far into the night. He dressed for duty, his signature sheepskin jacket hanging open.
“Are you going my way, darling?” 
You purse your lips because you’re fighting to keep the smile off your tired face. You don’t stand a chance. You dart over to him like you are pulled by a magnetic force, the live current arching between you.
Sliding onto the back of the bike, you grab handfuls of the thick sheepskin to steady yourself, trying to find your equilibrium. Bucky’s large, warm hands encircle your wrists and easily pull your hands off his jacket. Instead, he gently nudges you forward by your arms, tucking them under the side of his jacket, wrapping your arms around his waist. The side of your face is resting against his back. You can feel his heartbeat under your palm, resting just under his sternum; you move along with his every breath.
“Ready?” Bucky peers over his shoulder. 
“Hm–mh,” You hum in reply, face buried in the folds of Bucky’s jacket. “Drop me off before the last turn?” You mumble, gazing up at him pleadingly. “Matron will be awake and on the prowl by now,”
“Don’t worry, darling,” His free hand wraps over yours, pressing a kiss on your knuckles. “I’m not going to get you into any trouble,”
“I’m holding you to that,” You yawn, wrapping yourself around him tighter. You’re going to make the most of this moment — the quiet morning, the soft sheepskin, the smell of Bucky’s aftershave. 
You drift in and out of sleep, even though the trip by bike is tortuously short. After almost twenty hours on shift, you should be allowed this comfort. Whining in protest as Bucky starts to unlatch your arms from him, you feel his chuckle as much as you hear it. 
You slide off the back of the bike, ignoring where the metal was jabbing into your backside on the bumpy road, and rub your eyes, trying to get rid of the haze in your vision. A small yelp escapes you as Bucky tugs you against him by the tie at the waist of your wraparound seersucker dress. The bike lays forgotten in the grass by the side of the road. All the tension and anticipation from last night are suddenly back — you feel wide awake again.
Bucky’s fingers are resting lightly against your waist like he is testing the waters, slowly, gently guiding you closer to him until you are inches away from him. Automatically, your hands sneak back up his jacket, running up his sides to the front of his chest. He is so warm against the crisp morning air. 
“Are you going to ask me for a kiss now?” It comes out almost naively as you look up at him. God, you hope he says yes.
“I promised not to get you into trouble,” He teases gently, grinning, inclining his face closer anyway, his lips just ghosting over the corner of your mouth. He is rewarded with a shuddering sigh from you — his grip on your waist tightens, prompting you to close the remaining distance between you. 
“This, of course, is perfectly innocent,” Only you could be looking at him with those big eyes, full of want, your curious fingers roaming over his chest, and still speak so earnestly. Bucky buries his face in the crook of your neck, shaking from laughter. You wrap yourself around him, head buzzing. It’s like you’re short-circuiting, sparks flying with every move, every breath. 
Bucky nips at the sensitive flesh of your neck, hoping to elicit more of those small sounds from you. If it weren’t for the quiet morning, remnants of mist dissolving in the first light, he would have missed the softest moan of his name that falls from your lips. He could do this all day. Just explore every move of your body against his, every way you can say his name, every touch that brings you closer to him. You move in effortless synchronicity with him, purely on instinct. 
“Then it’s trouble you want, darling?” Bucky murmurs, pressing kisses along your jaw.
“It’s only trouble if we get caught,” You reply breathlessly. 
His finger is under your chin, tilting your face up to him, and finally, Bucky’s lips find yours. For a second, it’s just that: his lips pressed softly, almost chastely, against yours. You push yourself up on your tiptoes to get more leverage, wrapping your arm around his neck. Your other hand stays pressed against his chest, fisting his shirt, feeling how his heartbeat speeds up as you open your mouth for him with a sigh. Bucky doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, cupping your face. His other hand is roaming boldly over your back, applying light pressure on your spine so you arch into him, skimming just over the curve of your behind, playfully tugging at the ribbon of your wraparound dress. He knows exactly what he is doing and how to get exactly what he wants from you, and you’re more than eager to please.
Your mouth starts to tentatively explore the column of his neck as he whispers your name longingly, encouraging your little adventure. When your lips touch a particularly sensitive spot right under his ear, Bucky hisses — you can feel his muscles clench. It’s exhilarating; he feels the sparks as much as you do. Bucky doesn’t allow you to bask in your small victory too long, greedily capturing your mouth with his again, wrapping you around him, tucking you against him. His soft touch turns feverish, grasping at your hip. You match in kind, nails grazing the nape of his neck, just along his hairline — anything to keep the tension, the current arching.
You can feel the sunshine on your skin and see it through closed eyes. Breathlessly, you pull away just a fraction — Bucky’s lips are still ghosting over yours. 
“What’s wrong, darling?” He asks so softly you’re unsure if you heard or felt the words against your lips.
“I have to go,” You mumble as you move to stand feet flat on the ground again. It’s like waking up from a dream. Time is getting away from you. You’re not ready to pull away from Bucky yet, wanting to stretch the moment out. You gently fix his collar, running your hands over his front once more, as much in an attempt to straighten out the wrinkles you left on his shirt as to feel him move under your palm again. When he steps away from you, you release a shuddering breath. You feel like you’ve just been hit by lighting. 
“I’ll come find you,” He winks at you, grinning. Bucky presses a kiss to your forehead, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture feels intimate, more personal, than you could have imagined.
It was everything you feared happening when you said yes to John Egan. It was everything you dreamed it to be. As you watch him leave, you know that you’ll have a damn hard time giving that up. 
“I’ll be waiting.” 
note: this was literally supposed to be a quick 2k words fun meet cute kind of thing, just a quick adventure Morty, but oh god I'm in too deep. forgive me for this detour from Of All The Stars in The Sky, but it was necessary, you understand.
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