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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

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Black Light 6

Warnings: namecalling, violence, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Hottie wakes you up with a hot chocolate. The scent alone is enough to rouse you. Your mother always said you were a bloodhound.

You put on some cool DIY tutorials you found, explaining to her how you want to convert your old vanity, but first you need a lot of glitter. She seems interested but she's more concerned about the glitter being everywhere. You don't see what's so wrong with that but she suggests sealing it with resin. Well, it's all just plans until you get the materials.

You hear your mom and dad get up and notice how Hottie quiets down. She glances at the door, almost looking guilty. You smile and hop up from the bed.

"All cool, my parents are pretty chill," you say, "I'll just go tell them you're here."

"Is that okay?" She asks.

"Sure, I'll be right back."

You leave the door slightly ajar and go downstairs. You smell and hear the coffee machine brewing as you enter the kitchen. Your mom rubs her eyes as your dad leans on the island.

"Morning," you chirp, "hope you don't mind I brought a friend back last night."

"Oh, is it Kam?" Your mom asks.

"No, my new friend. I told you about her."

"Hmm, well, it's good you're making other friends," your dad hums, "hopefully better ones."

"She's awesome!"

"Are you sticking around, hon? The new couch is being delivered tonight so we have someone coming to get the old one around noon. Your dad and I have some running around to do."

"Oh, sure, is it okay if my friend hangs out til then?"

"As long as you're not up to your usual shenanigans," your dad girds playfully, "shouldn't be a problem."

"Great," you clap your hands.

Your dad growls and your mom groans as she turns to watch the coffee percolate.

"Where did she get the energy?" You father bemoans, "it certainly wasn't from us."

You giggle and leave them, rushing back upstairs to find Hottie with her purse on her shoulder. You nearly run smack into her as you enter your room.

"Hey, are you leaving?"

"I don't wanna intrude--"

"No, it's cool, really. They don't care. And they're going out for the day. We just needa wait here for the couch guys."

"Couch guys?" She echoes.

"Yeah, pleaseeee, stay," you whine, "it'll be so boring without you."

She sighs and gives a soft smile, "alright, I guess I haven't even finished my coffee."

🍪

You and Hottie sit out on the back deck, getting some sun as you wait. She fiddles with her phone, scowling as she often does at the small screen, as you cut up old magazines and fill a scrap book full of ideas. You like to put your fantasies together even if you know they won't ever be true. Besides, your mother never does anything with her old issues.

"You should try pinterest," she suggests over the top of her phone as she lays on her stomach, legs bent up behind her.

"Oh, I have an account!" You announce proudly, "I can send you the link!"

"Sure," she accepts with a smile, "so, you in school for something..."

"I wanted to do interior design. Mom said no. She doesn't see a career in that. So I'm taking Psych."

"Psychology? Wow, that's interesting."

"I guess. Oh, I was thinking about this study we read. They did an experiment where they had people with scars interview for jobs. And then they went over with the interviewer and interviewee how they thought it went and it talked all about how the people with scars factored in their appearance a lot more than the interviewer... I don't know, it just popped up in my head."

"Ah," she squints, "no reason for that, I'm sure."

Before you can respond, you hear the doorbell through the screen door. You get up, promising to be right back as Hottie rolls over. You head inside and tramp through the house in your flip flops. The doorbell rings again.

"I'm coming," you sing as you get to the door and pull it open, "hel--lo."

You stare dumbfounded at the man on your porch. August has an equally flabbergasted look on his face, his scar turning white as his eyes flare.

"You again," he growls.

You raise your chin defiantly and muster your inner Hottie.

"Um, excuse me, but... you need to go. I'm the bouncer here and--"

His brows furrow and he crosses his arms, making himself seem even bigger. You bat your lashes and cringe. You're not really convincing.

"I'm here for a couch," he glowers at your meanly.

"Really?"

"Mmm," he growls, "this is 387 Willow, isn't it?"

"Yes, but... don't you work at the club--"

"It's extra money. Now do you want your couch gone or do you wanna keep yammering at me?"

"Sorry, I..." You push the door back and retreat inside, "do you need help?"

"Not yours," he turns back and whistles, "Bodecker, get over here."

You glance past him and see another familiar face. It's the other bouncer, the one with the round belly. He comes up the steps and smirks at you.

"Ah, what are the odds?"

"Yes, what are the odds?" August sneers, "how exactly did you find this pick up?"

"Hey, it's money," the other man says, "so, where's the couch?"

#august walker x reader #dark august walker #august walker #dark!august walker #drabble #series #the club #mission impossible: fallout #black light #au

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non-stop-imagines · 5 years

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This is Heaven to Me

Request: Can you do an imagine with Bucky and a Black reader set in the 40s and they to live in the same apartment. One day the reader is playing her guitar and singing Heaven to Me by Billie Holiday while sitting on her window (kinda like Breakfast at Tiffany’s) and Bucky is enamored with her voice and climbs down the fire escape steps to meet her.

Pairing: 40's Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: Derogatory terms (n-word), angst, racism, but honestly this will just snuff you out with fluff

A/N: Y'aaallllll!!! I feel like I just finished a research paper! But gosh this was so fun to write. I tried to make it as 1940s sounding as possible without it being overkill so hopefully I conquered that. I want to thank the Anon that requested this and hopefully you enjoy this! Anyway, hope you all like this, and please continue leaving the lovely feedback you guys give me! I appreciate each and everyone of you! Love you all!!!💖💛💖💛

UNIVERSAL TAGS LIST: @avc212 @beautifulwisdom2001 @iamzion-therealhabesha @thottio @jetaimeamore @mixedfandxms @here-for-your-bullshit

Masterlist

_____

You've always looked forward to Thursday nights. A calm would rush over you each time you stepped through the threshold of your Brooklyn apartment, as you grabbed the wad of tips from work out of your clutch and stuff it into your savings jar in your kitchen then go to change into more comfortable clothes. It was because each Thursday after work you were able to fully practice your song for when you performed at the jazz club a few blocks down the next night. You went into your room and changed into a royal blue satin shirt from a pajama set your mom bought you and dark grey, high waisted, wide leg trousers, then, after wrapping your chignon updo in a headscarf to preserve it for the next day, you slip on some slippers, grab your guitar and head to the window that lead to your fire escape. You situate yourself on the windowsill, leaning up against the right side of your window, placing your left foot on the windowsill and allowing your right one to swing. Absentmindedly, you begin to pluck at the guitar, looking down the couple of stories at the bustling street. The people making their way home from work, a few couples going for a night on the town. The sight was peaceful. You put more focus into the strum on your guitar, tuning it slightly before you begin to strum a full melody. The melody that went to This is Heaven to Me by Billie Holiday. You start off humming to the tune then begin to sing.

When I hear them say

There's better living

Let them go their way

To that new living

I won't ever stray

'Cause this is heaven to me

You hum a bit more then move on to the next verse.

Long as freedom grows

I want to seek it. If it's yes or no,

It's me who'll speak it

'Cause the Lord, he knows

That this is heaven to me

_____

After stalking back to his new apartment, Bucky tosses his jacket on the table next to his front door and loosens his tie as he goes to open the window to let in the cool night air. He removes his tie and tosses it on the couch and unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt, then slowly makes his way back over to his window when he hears your sweet voice flowing through it.

If you've got your hands

And got your feet

To plow your land

And cut your wheat

You raise your head

When night is done

Shout your thanks up to the sun

You smoothly hit the high note, reeling Bucky in even more. He climbs through his window and looks over your way, taken aback by your simple beauty. The way your dainty fingers pluck at the guitar strings and how you would effortlessly switch your gaze from your guitar to the nightscape and back, and how the glow of light from the moon and the light inside your apartment illuminated your chocolate skin. He quietly makes his way down a couple of fire escape steps then sits as you finish the song.

So when I hear them say

There's better living

Let them go their way

To that new living

I won't ever stray

'Cause this is heaven to me

You finish strumming and jump when you hear a subtle cough come from your left. You look over at Bucky, who seemed equally as shocked to see you.

"Oh my, I'm sorry was I making too much noise?" You nervously tap at the base of your guitar.

"Oh no. I just came to listen, that's all." He tilts his head and gave you a bright smile. You place you guitar inside your window and turn so both feet were hanging off the windowsill as he stood from the step he sat on and took a few steps toward you, but stopped when he saw you tense up a bit. "I just moved here last week." He reaches out a hand. "James Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky. And your name is…?" You hesitantly reach out and shake his hand, only making eye contact for a second and then looking back out toward the street once you let go of his hand.

"Y/N. Y/L/N." You take a short glance at him. His gaze has not deviated from you at all.

"Beautiful name. Fitting." You smile to yourself, still not making eye contact with him. The fire escape creaked as he took a few more steps towards you and leaned against the other side of your window. "I've been wanting to meet someone from the building. Everyone seems to be rushing in and out all the time." He chuckles, joking to lighten the mood. You chuckle lightly, shoulders bouncing a bit. You reach up and adjust your headwrap. "So, you a singer?" You look up at Bucky when you sense his nervousness. His eyes were quizzical as he waited for an answer.

"Not completely. I work as a waitress at a diner across town, but on Fridays I sing at the Suit and Tie Jazz Club some blocks that way." You point down the street then look back up at Bucky, who wore an impressed countenance. You smile and drop your head again.

"Do you want to be a singer? Professionally, I mean." Bucky adjusts his stance and crosses his arms. You shrug then look up at him, noticing he was waiting for you to explain.

"Well, it would be nice, to perform somewhere big, like Harlem. But fame doesn't come easy, you know. Especially for people like me." You shrug at the sad fact, placing your hands on the windowsill and swinging your legs a bit more. Bucky keeps his eyes on you for a bit longer as they became sadder until he finally looked away and rubbed the stuble on his jaw. You look up at him, now that his focus wasn't on you, and now it was your turn to stare. His side profile was hard with prominent square jaw, especially since it was contracted at the moment. A few pieces of greased up hair flopped in front of his face as he looked out into the city and the way the light reflected in his eyes fascinated you. You wanted to ask him why he was here with you. Why he was talking to you? Why he seemed to care so much? You refrained in fear of ruining a possible one time goodwill moment from him and sit silently waiting for him to speak again. Bucky looks down at his watch then stands up straight.

"It's getting late. Better get back up to my place." He gives you a grin and taps the window frame then starts up the steps, but quickly stops and turns back around to look at you. "You've got a show tomorrow, right?" You nod.

"Yes sir. 8 o'clock." You answer timidly.

"I think a show on a Friday night sounds like a real ball, ya know." He turns around and continues up the stairs until he finally gets to his window. "It was nice meeting ya, doll." He bows his head slightly.

"It was nice meeting you too, sir." You allow a tiny grin to pull at the edges of your mouth.

"Goodnight." He smiles.

"Goodnight." You respond, allowing your grin to grow a little as he climbs through his window and shuts it. You sit on your windowsill for a minute longer then turn and climb back in, shutting it and going back to your room to get ready for bed.

_____

You fix your lipstick and check if any got on your teeth in your vanity mirror backstage at the club while the act before you steps on stage. You heart begins to race at the thought of your upcoming performance, that is until your friends came to distract you.

"Honey, what are you looking so hinky for? It's like you've never stepped foot on that stage your entire life." You friend, Denise, or Dee-Dee, says over your shoulder, smiling at you via the mirror.

"I always get a little edgy before shows." You pat your chignon hair-do and check it before turning around to look at all your friends. There was Dee-Dee, who you happen to work at the diner with you, making you not the only black employee, and who also happens to be your absolute best friend. Michelle, or Shelly, a waitress that works full-time at the club, and who's the most nosy of the group. And then there was Margaret, who everyone calls Mousy. Mousy was a timid young thing, no more than 19-20 years old, who came to New York from Chicago in hopes of becoming a world famous singer, and man does she have the pipes for it. Sure she's shy, but the nickname Mousy came from her beautiful soprano voice that could hit the highest of notes with ease.

"Oh wow, that dress looks mighty fine on you, Y/N." Mousy compliments. You look down and pull slightly on the skirt of your powder blue kitty foyle dress then look back up at her and smile.

"Why, thank you, Mouse!" You look over at your other two friends who were squinting at you trying to figure out why your nerves seemed to be getting to you more than usual. You look back over to Mousy who had her attention on the inside of her wrist, looking at her small wristwatch.

"Oh, I gotta go finish primping before I have to go on, but break a leg." And off Mousy went to her vanity, leaving you with Dee-Dee and Shelly who were still squinting at you, at least until Shelly snapped her fingers and pointed at you.

"She's expecting a man, tonigh!" Her smile was wide and mischievous. "I forgot about how nervous you get when a man you've got the hots for comes to hear you sing, since it's been a while." You stick your tongue out at Shelly the look over at Dee-Dee, who eagerly waiting for you to explain.

"Okay, well, fine! I just so happens I've got a man coming to see me perform, but that's not the reason for the nerves… it's because, well…" You stand from your seat and begin to pace back and forth fiddling with your fingers.

"What, is he wacky?" Dee-Dee crosses her arms and tilts her head.

"Kinda a wolf?" Shelly grimaced in pity.

"No it's not that. He's very sweet and handsome. It's just…" you take a breath and think about how to articulate your words.

"Come on, fess up! We ain't got all day!" Shelly exclaims, placing her hands on her hips.

"HE'S WHITE, OKAY!" You blurt out, then cover your mouth, waiting for their reaction. They stayed silent for what felt like an eternity, until they start cracking up.

"Well, we're not gonna have a hard time finding him in the crowd!" Dee-Dee cackles, doubling over.

"Now, what white man did you convince to come down and listen to you?" Shelly animatedly moves about her head while keeping her hands on her hips.

"He lives in the apartment above mine. Heard me singin' and came down to say hi." The act before you came off the stage, a roar of applause coming through the curtain. "Now, I need to get ready to get on that stage so if y'all want to keep flapping your lips about him go right ahead." You strut to stage right and mentally prepare as well as vocally until you and the song you are performing is introduced. You step on stage, waving and smiling at the audience as you make your way to the mic. You scan through the audience squinting through the smoke and the spotlight that shone down on you in search of Bucky, but to no avail. Your mood is dampened when the music starts to play but you just went on and began to sing the Billie Holiday song.

You grasp onto the mic and begin to tap your foot to the beat. You smile into the lyrics and close your eyes when hitting certain notes. Once you get to the second verse, you close your eyes as you start it, then finish by first looking at the mic and then looking up, catching none other than Bucky's eyes where he sat at a table in the second row with a friend. You smile and then begin the bridge of the song, putting 10x the passion into singing than the moments before. Bucky watches you in admiration, noticing just how much you loved to sing from how you were performing. What he loves more than that is the elegant presence you have on that stage. How the spotlight lit up your deep brown skin, how your plump lips looked as they spoke those soulful words, and how your powder blue dress complimented your complexion perfectly. You start to finish the last verse with your eyes closed, feeling every bit of the music, up until the last note when you slowly open your eyes and make eye contact with Bucky. You stay on stage long enough for your applause then exit stage left and make your way to where Bucky and his friend sat. You first walk by Dee-Dee, side eyeing her and giving her and "I told you so" look. You then pass by Shelly, who was helping a table but had the time to scowl at you. You just grin and keep walking until you got to Bucky.

"Hi James." You clasp your hands in front of you and smile up at him.

"Hey, doll. You were amazing up there!" Bucky hold his arms out, hands just hovering over your arms, giving you goosebumps.

"Why, thank you." You smile and turn to his friend. He was shorter and quite skinny with blonde hair, but the vibe he gave off was strong, like he could do anything in the world no matter what others told him. "I'm sorry, I don't think I asked you your name."

"Steve, it's nice to meet you ma'am." He shakes your hand. "And may I say you can really sing." The smile he gave you was sincere, sweet.

"So which one of you came to see our dolly here belt out a tune?" Shelly comes up from behind you and pulls you into her side. Soon enough Dee-Dee was behind her with Mousy, nosily following behind.

"Me, ma'am." Bucky bows his head at them and gives them a smirk that would make anyone fall. "I'm James. It's nice to meet all of you." You look back at your friends as they all introduced themselves and quickly realize where you thought Mousy should be.

"Hey, mouse, aren't you supposed to be getting ready to go up?" You tilt your head toward the stage.

"Some drunk spilled booze on the stage and they said it was gonna be a while 'til they sopped it up." She shrugs then looks over in Steve's direction, eyes widening. You watch her eyes flicker from her feet to him as a timid grin grew on her face. You look back over at Steve who seemed to be as red as a tomato, sporting a similar goofy looking grin. You just breathe out a chuckle and shake your head.

"Well, I guess that's me gone then." Bucky chuckles, glancing at his friend. "Y/N, would you like me to walk you home?" He raises his eyebrows, looking at you.

"That sounds like a mighty fine idea." You smile brightly up at him. The confidence you have speaking to Bucky right now seems to be ten times that of your confidence from last night, but you just chalk it up to you being in your element and around your people. "Let me just go get my things." You turn on your heel and head backstage. "Mousey, I think they got the stage all clean now. You might be up in a moment." You whisper in her ear breaking her trance.

"Oh, uh, I guess you're right." She turns back to Bucky and Steve. "It was nice to meet you James and uh…" Her eyes widen, this time in embarrassment, when she realizes she never got the cute blonde's name.

"Steve. Steve Rogers." He delicately takes her outstretched hand unsure of wether or not he should kiss it. Soon the timing became awkward, and he lets go of her hand making them both giggle nervously.

"Margaret Smith, but everyone calls me Mousey. It was nice meeting you." She begins to turn to head backstage with you.

"You too, Miss Smith." A dazed smile grew on his face as he waved at both of you. Dee and Shelly both say their goodbyes and follow you back.

"You coming with me and Y/N, or…" Bucky looks over at Steve who still was focused in the direction of backstage.

"I think I'm gonna stay for one more performance. But don't let that stop you." Steve sits back down at the table just as you exited from backstage with your coat and your clutch, walking over to Bucky and wrapping your arm in his.

"I'll see ya, Steve." Bucky whispers as the host announces Mousey, which results in only a wave from Steve. You both laugh as you turn and exit the club. You squirm a bit as you walked by the tables of searing eyes from judging black men. You finally get outside and shiver at the slightly chilled air and remove your arm from Bucky's so you both could pull on your coats. You re-intertwine arms and start walking down toward the direction of your brownstone building. It started off silent, with Bucky just being glad he had you on his arm, but you were on edge, feeling the many pair of bystanders eyes watch as you walk down the sidewalk with Bucky, so to combat your nerves you begin to talk.

"So, how'd you get your nickname? Bucky?" You look up at him for a moment and then switched your gaze back forward.

"My middle name. Buchanan. Strangest place to get a nickname but hey, it stuck." You nervously giggle, watching a white couple scowl at you from across the street. You try to figure out another topic quickly.

"Are you, perchance, in the army?" You mentally facepalm yourself for asking such an oddly timed and oddly worded question.

"Uh, yeah. Why?" He squints and grins down at you.

"Just wonderin'. You seem like you're an army man." You hug yourself closer to Bucky's arm. He hums in response to your observation.

"I go off to Germany in a couple of months. Hopefully I get up to Sergeant rank before then." His words fade off as he looks over to you, watching you frantically look around. "Hey, you seem a little edgy, doll. What's going on?" You think about your answer for a moment, and decide to answer with a question.

"James, why did you talk to me last night?" You ask, making him stop and turn to you.

"I heard a beautiful voice flow through my window and when I went to find where it came from, I found that it came from an even more beautiful woman." He tilts his head and let's a grin tug at the side of his mouth before letting it fade again. "Why are you asking?"

"You didn't care about wether or not I was... colored?" You grimaced at the sensitive nature of your own question, but you knew you wanted an answer.

"Of course not, doll." You continue to look at your feet until Bucky gently lifts your head with his fingers. You look into his eyes, wondering how they shine bright blue even in the dull street lighting. He gazes into your eyes, knowing he's never been so in love with deep brown eyes until this moment. "Now, it would be ignorant to say that I didn't see your color, because I did. And it made you that much more beautiful to me." He pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around you. You place your hands on his chest and look up at him. "And, I'm not gonna let color, nor people's opinions stop me from being with ya." A wide smile grows his face and you subconsciously mimick it. Suddenly out of what seemed like instinct, Bucky bends down to kiss you. It was short and sweet but was cut short when two men, obviously drunk, call from across the street.

"Hey, where'd you find the nigger call girl!? Maybe you could spare the number!" He slurs, making him and his friend cackle. You look up at Bucky and are met with his completely rage filled face, focused on the two bumbling men.

"Hey, we don't mind sharing the whore, either!" The friend shouts, tipping Bucky over the edge.

"I'll be right back." He releases you, hands you his jacket and beings to roll up his sleeves as he starts to make his way across the street.

"BUCKY! BUCKY!" You run to the middle of the road and grab his upper arm, making him look back at you. "James, there's no need for you to blow a fuse over this. Over them." You see his expression calm down and his body lose some of the tension it held. "Come on, let's go home. They'll get theirs one day. " You scowl at the still cackling men as you led Bucky back to the sidewalk. You hand him his jacket which he slips back on then holds out his arm for you to grab onto again.

"Why didn't let me go over there? I was gonna cream both of them." Bucky's biceps subconsciously flexes at the thought.

"And what if that got back to the army? Reputations stick, Bucky." You stop and take a deep, calming breath. "People like them have tried to get under my skin all my life. I've learned to ignore them because I know that if those yucks continue to spout their hatred, an equal or greater evil is in store for them." You look forward again, silence coming over you both again.

"It's still tough that you've had to deal with this your entire life." He mumbles, stuffing his left hand into his pocket. You just shrug and continue walking, letting the the low murmur from the nightlife calm you both down.

"I feel kinda lame for ditching your friend Steve back at the club." You comment looking up at Bucky again, watching him grin, making you smile.

"Something tells me your friend Mousey will keep him company." You laugh at his response and hug closer to his arm again, this time feeling as though the world has melted away, leaving just the two of you.

____

After walking the couple flights of stairs to your apartment, you and Bucky stop in front your door. You turn to face him smiling once you see his smile.

"Well, this is my stop." You point back to your door.

"I know, but I was wracking my brain and realized we didn't finish our make out. " Bucky raises a brow as he pulls you closer while you automatically bring your hands to his solid chest, laughing.

"Well that's a crying shame." You smile up at him as he leans in to capture your lips, the passion in the kiss greater than before. You weren't afraid anymore. You just wanted his arms to stay around you and lips to stay parked on yours. But your dream subsided as you felt him pulling away and you eventually open your eyes, meeting his smiling piercing blue ones.

"I'll be seeing ya again real soon, okay doll?" He slowly pulls away until he is only holding your hands.

"It better be soon, with you living on the floor above me and all." You smirk, eventually letting go of his hands, watching him make his way up to his place. As soon as he's out of sight, you let yourself into your place and remove your coat in a daze, tossing it and your clutch on the couch. You then move over to your window to open it and lean against the windowsill, looking over the nightlife that moved along the streets. You're slightly startled by a voice coming from the left of you.

"Hey." Bucky calls to you, also leaning out his window.

"Hey." You look over and grin at him.

"Goodnight, Y/N." Bucky grins lovingly at you.

"Goodnight, James." You return the sentiment the move from the window, closing it and heading back to your room to get ready for bed

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x black!reader #40s bucky #40s bucky barnes #40s Bucky Barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes #james barnes x black!reader #james barnes x reader #james barnes imagine

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