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marvelettesassemblenow · 2 years

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Our Cabin

Pairing: Steve x F Reader

Summary: Follow up to Coffee Cottage | Modern AU – Just some fluff about your relationship with Steve

Warnings: Too much fluff, rude customer who can’t deal with rejection (nothing bad and Steve handles it his own way)

Word Count: ~2.6k

A/N: this piece is only existing because of two people: @jenniweaslee & @sweetascanbee who both don’t really have a clue what will happen here, but they hyped me up nevertheless | Coffee Cottage was supposed to be a OS, but I wanted to write something really fluffy so this happened

Part One | Masterlist

The phone of the shop rang and you took the three steps to answer it. “Coffee Cottage, how may I help you?”

“Hey honey, how’s your day? How’s the new help?” Your boyfriends voice greeted you and it caused you to take a look through the café and you gaze stayed on the young woman currently laughing with a customer.

“It’s going great, I have a really good feeling!” Your voice expressed the relief you felt. Business was going crazy, more and more tourists came through your small town and it was impossible for you to manage the café on your own.

“I’m happy to hear that! Bucky asked if we wanted to come over tonight. I could pick you up and you could stay the night. Remember most comfortable bed you ever slept in.”

“This is always your reason to get me to stay over. I have to be at the café early though,” but Steve interrupted you and told you he would drive you home of course.

“I haven’t seen you yesterday and I miss you, so you kind of have to agree,” he said and a smile was slowly stretching on your face. Of course, you would have said yes. You missed him too!

“Only because of the bed,” you agreed and Steve told you he would pick you up later. Time flew by and closing the café with four hands was way quicker then when it was just you. Steve arrived just when you pulled on your coat.

“I’m so sorry, but we’re closed,” Wanda called towards your boyfriend and looked helplessly at you.

“Hi, I’m Steve. I’m just here to pick up my girlfriend,” he said charmingly and there was a small tint of red on Wanda’s cheeks when Steve came forward and held his hand out. Of course he asked if Wanda needed a ride home and she surprisingly accepted. Or maybe it wasn’t such a surprise, because if he wanted to Steve could get anyone to agree to anything.

After dropping Wanda off at her place, which was farther away than she had first told you, the both of you made your way over to Steve’s best friend.

Bucky was surprisingly a very good cook and after dinner he placed the cheesecake that you had brought over, in front of you. He announced that he had something to discuss.

“I have to call in a favor. A huge one. And a permission,” he started and he waited until Steve and you looked at him expectantly. “I thought about moving out. This flat isn’t for eternity for me. And I want to live somewhere a little bit quieter. And I have this guy that I know. Kind of a lumberjack. Somehow very talented with wood. Has built his own house, which is pretty cool.” At this point you knew exactly where this conversation was going. “And there is this place, somewhere close to his house. That would be a perfect spot for a new house.”

“Oh, just say what you want, jerk,” Steve smirked.

“I want you to know, that I’m asking both of you,” he started slowly.

“Bucky,” you scolded him.

“Just wanted to make sure. I want to buy the property next to you. I want to built a house and I need your help, Stevie. And of course, if you don’t want me living next to you, that would also be okay. Kind of. Would hurt my feelings, but,” he shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“Of course, this is okay for me. You helped me with my house, so I will help you with yours. Do you have ideas?” Steve was excited. You could feel it in the air, but Bucky looked at you.

“Is this okay for you too? I know I’m asking for a lot. The both of you don’t have that much time together and it will keep this guy away for a while,” Bucky looked into your eyes while he wanted to make it clear that you also had a say in this.

“Needless to say that this is okay for me, Bucky. Think about how much time we will safe when we don’t have to drive out here to see you,” you smiled at him. “We will manage.”

“I have no doubt that you will. This,” he pointed from you to Steve and back, “is endgame. And I want to make it clear here that I will be best man and that you better remember this.”

“Buck, we haven’t even,” Steve started, but Bucky interrupted.

“No buts. I’m just saying it so you’ll remember it once its time. I haven’t seen him so happy in such a long time, it’s refreshing. And the both of you together make me sick – but in a good way.” He winked at you. “Anyway, I might have written out some ideas.” And with that the evening was spent with talks about Bucky’s new home.

In the end Bucky had been right. It was a lot of time that Steve had to spend helping his best friend. The work at the café went better, Wanda was a huge help and when you were finally able to have more time for yourself you had to spend it alone. You understood, Steve and Bucky had to use the good weather while it still lasted. So the rainy days were for you and Steve and you wouldn’t complain as it ended in a lot of cuddling inside.

“Is it weird for me to say I like the rainy days more than the sunny ones?” you asked once, your head on Steve’s chest while he was keeping you close to him and Murphy laying at your feet.

“Not weird at all, because I feel the same.” He kissed your head and you let out a content sigh. Murphy let out a huff as if he was agreeing. “No wonder he’s agreeing. He’s a total Momma boy now.”

“Well, I do take our child often to work now. And I do have the good snacks, so you can’t really blame him. I am good company,” you teased.

“That you are and I might be a bit jealous. But the house shouldn’t take much more time. I hope for 2 months top now. And then I can’t wait to spend winter here with you.”

“What makes you think I’ll spend it here with you?” you asked. “I have a perfect apartment just above my working place.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have this comfortable bed. And don’t you dare say anything against it as it was your excuse to come over visiting me in the first place. This bed is worth the drive. And I’ll even give you my truck so you have a safe vehicle that will bring you safely from and to work through the woodland.”

That stunned you and cause you to sit up and look at him. “You would?”

“Yeah, why are you sounding so surprised? I like your car but it isn’t really built for this surrounding. And with all the snow it would be safer. Sweetheart, you remember what Bucky said all those months ago about us?” He waited until you nodded. Naturally you didn’t forget about that one, but Steve and you didn’t talk about that. The great thing about your relationship? You didn’t need much words to... just get the other one. “He wasn’t wrong. I can’t remember the last time that I was so happy. We’re both very independent people, but I look forward to the days when I know you'll be here when I come home. Bucky always knows when you’re home because he says I smile a lot more. I love coming home to you,” he admitted.

“And I love being here with you. And it’s so relaxing. Must be the bed,” you played to pretend, but Steve was already tackling you down which caused you to let out a squeal.

Murphy was having a weird day. At first you couldn’t find your keys until you finally found them in Murphy's dog bed, which caused you to be late to work. He was also almost not leaving your side until you told him off and to lay down in his corner of the café. You didn’t need to trip over him again. It was Wanda’s day off so it was just you and it had been busy. Now there were only four people left in the café and you were busy cleaning up. It had just started to rain so you were sure Bucky and Steve would show up soon.

“Can I get you anything else?” you asked once you passed a table with two guys. They had to be a little younger than you if you had to guess.

“What’s here to do once it starts raining? Is there a club?” one of them asked you while you collected their plates.

“I’m afraid not, but there is a bar that will open in an hour.” you offered and put your weight on one foot. You’ve been up for a while and you looked forward to sat down soon.

“How about you accompany us. We could get a few drinks, get to know each other better,” the other one offered now and his body turned in your direction.

“No thank you, I have to work,” you laughed and noticed the body of your dog pressing against your legs. You looked down to see Murphy staring at the guy at the table in front of you, while the two guys didn’t spare him a glance.

“What about when you’re off? You said the bar would open in an hour, sure you’d,” he started but you interrupted it.

“I’m sorry but not even then. I’m not interested, but I hope you have a good time,” you said and were about to turn around when you heard the first one open his mouth again.

“Whatever, you aren’t pretty anyway,” he scoffed and you stopped. Murphy was still pressed against you and you were speechless. He didn’t even mumble it, he said it out loud for you to hear. And it hurt. But before you could say anything you noticed a presence in front of you.

“You better not repeat that,” you heard a voice that you knew just too well. You heard it often in the morning when it was still full of sleep. And you would recognize the back in a wet flannel. Murphy took two steps forward to stand next to his dad.

“What’s it to you?” The guy wasn’t intimidated by Steve.

“That is my girlfriend you just insulted in her own café. So, I suggest you leave after you pay for your stuff.” Steve emphasized the word after after the boys tried to get up. “What do they own you, sweetheart?” He didn’t move an inch and you could just stare at his back as he blocked the view of the table. You said the amount and Steve repeated it.

“You just put that money here on the table. A nice tip would be also nice for the trouble she had to go through. No, no,” he suddenly stopped and he must have held a hand out. “You don’t look at her. You will leave this café without doing so. Looking at this woman that I’m lucky to call my girlfriend is a privilege. You just lost that by calling her anything other than beautiful. So you better hurry up and leave. And be sure that I let Clint know to not let you in the bar. See, this is a small town. You insult one of us you insult us all. And we don’t forget shit like that.” You heard the bell of your door shortly after that and only after a few more seconds did Steve turn around and you were able to look into his pretty face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Of course I am. My ego is a little bruised, but other than that I’m fine,” you assured your boyfriend.

“Don’t let your ego be bruised only because some jerks can’t handle rejection,” Bucky, who you hadn’t seen until now patted your shoulder and walked towards the counter to take a seat there and left you in Steve’s care.

“Bucky’s right. Don’t let it get to your head my beautiful,” he kissed your forehead, “beautiful,” now the tip of your nose, “beautiful girl,” until he finally landed on your lips. This made you giggle, which caused Steve to smile at you.

“Oh what would I do without my knight in my shiny armor – or more like wet armor. And now please step aside so I can scold Bucky because he came in here like a wet cat and now I have to mop,” you pushed past him to get rid of the plates still in your hand and to get the cleaning supplies.

Bucky’s house was packed the day he was moving in. His mother and sister were there along with some of his friends. The house wouldn’t stand there without their help, at least not yet anyway. But if someone needed help everyone offered it without blinking twice. And so you were standing in the new house on a warm autumn day and getting a refill of your water once everything was moved inside the house. You noticed Bucky next to you and refilled his glass too.

“Thanks, pretty,” he said and took a sip.

“Ugh, when will you stop calling me that?” You groaned.

“Never,” Bucky smirked at you.

“As he should. Come sit down with me,” Steve said from the other side of you. He pulled you along to the seat he had occupied before and pulled you on his lap. You learned early to never question again if the furniture (he had built!) could hold the two of you or if you were too heavy. When you were sitting comfortably on him and watched your friends mingling he whispered in your ear. “Move in with me.”

“What?” you asked confused.

“Sweetheart, you already live in the cabin. Most of your stuff is there. You spend most of your days at my place and the few night that you don’t I miss you. I love coming home to you and the bed feels lonely without you. Just isn’t the same,” his beard tickled your neck as his words flew over your skin – and heart.

“What is it with you and the bed?”

“It was your excuse to come over and see me. So I will use it to get you to move in with me officially. You can rent the flat to Wanda. Her apartment is far away so it could help a lot. Might give you some morning to spend longer in bed with me.”

“How long have you thought about this?” you asked and turned around so you could see him.

“Months,” he admitted.

“Well, then I guess you can call in a favor from Bucky so we will get my stuff over to our house,” you said. When you met Steve, you would have never guessed that the grumpy man could smile so big as he was now.

“I can ask him now. Three hours and everything will be over,” he said and you stopped him when you pressed your lips to his.

“We have time. Let’s just calm down and then you can start moving stuff around again.”

“You’re right. We have all the time in the world,” he whispered back and kissed you again.

Divider by @whimsicalrogers

#steve x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #modern au #steve rogers x reader #steve x you #steve rogers ff #fluff #lumberjack!Steve #our cabin #marvelettesassemblenow

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navybrat817 · 11 months

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First Mother's Day

Summary: Steve and Bucky want to give you the perfect Mother's Day.

Pairings: Lumberjack!Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Woodworker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 2.2k Warnings: Fluff, established relationships, slight insecurities, parenthood, pet names, canon divergent, feels (it's me), Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes (yep, they are warnings) A/N: Happy Mother's Day from our Into the Woods boys.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Dividers by @firefly-graphics. Bucky edit by Nix. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Beefcake and Tippy

When Steve asked what you wanted for your first Mother’s Day, you didn’t have an answer for him. After a few seconds of silence and an eyebrow raise, you said you didn’t want anything. A touch of sadness filled the former Captain’s blue eyes when he asked you why. You shrugged a little. That answer wasn’t good enough for him.

Truthfully, you weren’t sure what to say. You knew he wanted to make the day special for you, but wasn’t it just another day? Peanut would be too young to remember it. Then again, you and Steve would be able to keep the memories close to your hearts. But it felt selfish to ask for anything, even if the day was meant to be about you.

And wasn’t that part of being a mom, willing to give, but not wanting to ask for anything in return?

“Steve, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do something for me,” you said, even if a small part of you wanted him to.

“It’s your day. I have to do something.”

“What did I just say? You don’t have to do anything,” you argued.

“Wrong choice of words,” he said, pulling you close. “I want to. Please.”

While some likely expected Steve to want a more “traditional” wife and mother to his kids, thanks to when he was born, he was a hands-on dad. Expecting you to do everything was unrealistic and unfair in his eyes. He invested time and energy into raising his child and made sure to balance responsibilities. Not only that, he took the time to acknowledge your hard work as you balanced writing and motherhood. You consider yourself lucky to have Steve as a partner and father to your son.

He makes me feel seen and appreciated.

Maybe it was the pleading look in his eyes that got to you. Or the slight pout on his handsome face. You didn’t want much. You really didn’t. So was it really selfish to ask?

“Okay. You know what I want?” you asked, not giving him a chance to respond. “I want to sleep in a little. I want breakfast in bed and I don’t care if that’s cliche. I want an uninterrupted nap in the afternoon with a warm blanket. And I want to watch a cheesy rom-com before bed with buttered popcorn.”

“From that shop in the city?” he smiled, kissing the tip of your nose.

“Yes, that one,” you smiled back. “With extra butter.”

“And that’s it?” he questioned, making sure you weren’t leaving anything out.

“That’s it,” you replied. “A simple, quiet day with the two of you. I don’t think that’s asking for too much and it’ll make me happy. My day, my rules, right?”

Steve chuckled and nodded. “Whatever you say.”

When Sunday rolled around, you didn’t wake up to the sound of Steve’s alarm like you expected. Instead, you opened your eyes to the sight of him carrying a tray with a delicious smelling breakfast. He smiled gently as he waited for you to sit up and stretch before he set the food down. He was dressed for the day, a red plaid shirt stretched across his broad chest. Handsome as ever and you probably looked like the walking dead rising from your slumber.

And Peanut was close by in the pack ‘n play, sound asleep. You noticed his onesie matched Steve’s shirt. A mini-me in the making and you couldn’t be happier.

“Good morning,” Steve said, sitting on the bed. “Already fed and changed him so you could sleep in.”

First thing on my list.

“Thank you, Steve,” you smiled, your stomach grumbling as you looked over the large breakfast. Second thing on my list. “I may be hungry, but you know you’ll have to help me eat this, right?”

“That was the plan,” he teased, uncaring of your morning breath as he leaned over to kiss you. “Would you like your present before or after breakfast?”

“You got me a present?” you asked, shaking your head as he leaned down and pulled out a large package from under the bed. “Okay, I have to open it now. How did you manage to hide that from me?”

“Because you didn’t look under the bed,” he winked, moving the tray so you could take the gift. “Thank god you didn’t because we both know I’m a terrible liar and I would’ve told you immediately what was inside.”

True.

You almost felt bad ruining the pretty wrapping paper, but you felt giddy with anticipation as you opened the box, especially since you hadn’t expected anything. Your smile widened when you saw the large bag of buttered popcorn from your favorite shop that sat on top of a soft blanket. Beside it sat a framed photo of you holding your son the day he was finally home.

“For your uninterrupted nap this afternoon and for our rom-com movie tonight,” he smiled. Third and fourth items on my list. “I thought the photo would be nice for your desk.”

The day the hospital released your son was one of the happiest days of your life. He carried so much strength in his tiny body, a reminder that hope and resilience came in all shapes and sizes. The heart of a warrior and the light of your life.

“These are wonderful. Thank you,” you said, pointing at one more small box. “But what’s this?”

“Something I had Jewel make,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He seemed nervous about this one. “I, um, hope you like it.”

You gasped when you opened the box. Bucky’s wife was a gifted jewelry maker and she had once again outdone herself. A sparkling ring with three stones shined up at you, immediately recognizing that they represented birthstones for you, Steve, and Peanut. As you took out the ring with tearful eyes, you caught a small inscription inside the band.

Faith. Hope. Love.

“Happy Mother's Day,” Steve whispered, taking the ring and slipping it onto your right ring finger. “And here’s to many more.”

A tear fell as you framed his face to kiss him. Not only did he give you exactly what you asked for, but he went above and beyond to make you feel special. The way he did each day with faith, hope, and love.

But the greatest of these is love.

Hunk and Jewel

You didn’t have to be a genius to figure out how nervous Bucky was for your first Mother’s Day. He circled the day on the calendar with a lopsided heart and a question mark in the space. You also caught him reading an article on unique gifts, which you pretended not to see. You could’ve dropped hints here and there for him if you wished, but there wasn’t anything specific that you wanted.

You did your own research and found that some moms wanted space on Mother’s Day, like a spa or pampering day. Others liked homemade and sentimental gifts. A general consensus was that they didn’t want to do any work. Bucky already handled more than his share of chores though when it came to your home and daughter and you knew he wouldn’t let you lift a finger when that Sunday arrived.

Could you ask for anything more?

“What am I supposed to do?” he asked your daughter as he paced around the room, cuddling her against his chest. “She made Tippy a ring. A ring. How do I even top that? Not that it’s a competition. It’s not.”

You covered your mouth so you wouldn’t laugh. It was almost endearing how he had the tendency to overthink when it came to gifts for you. You assured him that no matter what he decided to get you, for whatever occasion, that you’d love it. A small bouquet of flowers would've satisfied you.

“You know I love your mama, right? Love you both so much,” he continued, kissing the top of her head. “I just want her to feel special. She works so hard and she puts up with me.”

I adore him.

Jellybean giggled as she tugged on her dad’s hair, your heart melting at the sight. Your baby girl loved you, there was no doubt about that, but she was also very much a daddy’s girl. Not that you blamed her. Bucky was a loving, protective father, always there to soothe and care for her. He’d always have a special place in her heart.

“We love you, too,” you said, finally letting out a laugh when he turned with wide eyes and saw you in the doorway. “Your super soldier senses didn’t pick up on me standing here?”

“And I thought I had stealth,” he mumbled with a small smile. “You know how I get when it comes to your gifts.”

“I do, but I don’t understand why you do, Jamie. You have nothing to worry about,” you said, smiling when you saw how content your daughter was in his arms. “I’m sure you already have a special engraved stone for me,” you pointed out, something to carry on the tradition he created. You kept the small growing collection in a jeweled box and looked forward to getting them for each holiday and special day.

“But you’re expecting that and I want to surprise you,” he said, sighing before Jellybean giggled again. “I think she’s laughing at me.”

“Oh, she is,” you teased, rubbing her back. You weren’t a perfect mother, but she was a happy, healthy baby and that was what mattered to you. “Do you remember the first time we heard her giggle? It was such a happy sound. I wish I knew what went on in her mind when she did that.”

Bucky gave you a thoughtful stare, like something clicked in his mind. “I remember,” he said, gently putting your daughter in your arms. “I need to make a call.”

“Okay,” you said, watching as he rushed out of the room. “I think your dada got an idea.”

You were right.

Bucky was much more relaxed after that afternoon. You had to admit, you were curious about what gift he had in mind. You went through a list of things in your mind before you decided not to dwell on it. As much as you wanted to ask for hints, you didn’t want to spoil the surprise.

That day you woke up to a bouquet of your favorite flowers on the nightstand. Beside it was a smaller vase with a single flower. The scent brought a smile to your face as you sat up. They were beautiful.

“She picked the flowers and chose the prettiest one for her vase” Bucky smiled, carrying your daughter with one hand and balancing a gift in the other. “We have breakfast waiting for you, but she wants you to open your gift first.”

Liar.

“Of course she did. She has good taste,” you smiled, booping her on the nose as Bucky sat her down on the bed.

Bucky gazed at you expectantly as you unwrapped the present. As expected, a heart shaped rock engraved with “Mother” awaited you on top. Fitting for a mother of pearl stone. Beneath it was a wooden bath tray that you knew Bucky made himself.

“It has room for a book or tablet, your phone, a place for your wine glass, and it extends if you want to add more stuff,” he explained, kissing your forehead. “You deserve to relax.”

I don’t deserve him.

“Beautiful and thoughtful,” you smiled, making Bucky smile in return. He knew how much you liked to relax whenever you could. “Thank you.”

“There’s one more thing,” he said, urging you to look under the tray.

“A book?” you asked, picking it up to look at the cover.

Mama, I Love You!

“That call I made? I got some help from Tippy,” he explained, clearing his throat. “So you know what's on Jellybean's mind."

You were almost afraid to open it because you knew you’d cry. Tippy was extremely talented, her words drawing a range of emotions from the reader. And with help from Bucky, you knew this one was extra special.

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

You sniffled as you opened it and turned the pages. Each page had a date, drawings of the three of you, or message of love and memories. From the day you found out you were pregnant, to the day you brought your daughter home, to her first smile, and more. It was as if Jellybean was telling you the story of her life with you so far. And letting you know that you were doing the best that you could.

By the time you got to the last page, you openly sobbed.

“Thank you for loving me, Mama.”

This was one of the reasons you loved Bucky. Jellybean couldn’t tell you through words yet how she felt being your daughter, so her father did so. At the end of the day, you wanted to be the best mother for her. This gift would help ease your insecurities if you ever doubted yourself.

“Thank you for loving us,” Bucky whispered, wiping away your tears with a tender touch before he kissed you. “Happy Mother’s Day.”

Thank you both for loving me.

I think Tippy and Jewel having a hand in the gifts make them extra special. I also know this day isn't easy for many and my heart goes out to each of you lovelies. Happy Mother's Day. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

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Outside the Lines 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsessive compulsive behaviour, kidnapping, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has her routine and her fellow patient gets in the way of those.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, (lumberjack AU)

Note: I'm feeling it so why not.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven��t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Steve takes you downstairs. You marvel at the large kitchen, finished with dark walnut and brass. Bucky sits, dragging his fingertips over the island, leaning as he stares grimly at the wall. His eyes drift to you slowly and you flinch, cowering and shifting to hide partly behind Steve.

“She calm down?” He asks brusquely as he taps his metal fingers on the wood.

“Buck, she just needed to settle in, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Steve reaches back blindly and grabs your arm, drawing you forward, “she’s going to apologise.”

You look at him. You can’t hide your surprise at his declaration. Apologise. For what? They lied to you. How could you know any better? But you suppose you should’ve listened. You nod and Steve lets you go.

You face Bucky and step closer, folding one hand over the other.

“Bucky,” you begin.

“Sweetheart,” Steve hovers behind you, “you call him sergeant.”

Your lips part and you look down at your feet. You place them within the lines of the hardwood and count to three. You’d been standing right on the lines. That's bad luck!

You look up again and bring your hands over your chest.

“Sergeant,” you voice quavers and you swallow to steady it, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. But I know now and I’ll be good because I know you’re just trying to help me.” Your eyes well as you remember his angry voice, “I’m real sorry about throwing the tea at you. I was only afraid.” You touch your cheeks and sway back and forth, “I’m not a mean person.”

His blue eyes are icy and his jaw set. He arches a brow and peeks at Steve. He raises his chin and lets his expression soften as he turns to you fully. He tilts his head as he grips his hip.

“Doll,” he says softly, “I forgive you. But I won’t a second time. Got it?”

“Yes,” you pout.

“We talked,” Steve says, “she understands now.”

“Ah,” Bucky hums, “good.”

You nod and look from one to the other. Steve touches the small of your back as he steps up beside you. You slouch and shy away from him.

“Why don’t you show the sergeant how sorry you are and make him a nice breakfast?” Steve suggests, “you know what they say about men.”

You shake your head. Who is they and what do they say?

“The way to his heart is through his stomach,” Steve chuckles.

“Oh,” you bat your lashes, “so… um, what should I make?”

“Coffee,” Bucky grumbles as he rubs his eyes.

“There’s bacon and eggs in the fridge, can you cook that?”

“Yes! Yes, I can cook,” you proclaim, “I know how.”

“Of course, honey,” Steve drags his fingertips up your arm, “you can do so much. I know you can. A lot more than you think. And we just want to help you learn how to do more.”

You don’t want to seem ungrateful. It’s only confusing. You did overreact. You didn’t even let them explain. It’s no wonder they got a bit pushy.

“Thank you,” you chirp, “you’re so nice.” You look at his hand as he caresses above your elbow, “and this is a very nice house. I’ve never been to a cabin before. It’s so nice you would bring me here.”

“Ha, yeah, you know, me and Bucky built it,” Steve explains.

“You did?” You round your eyes and take another look around. You can’t imagine all that work. “Wow!”

"Coffee," Bucky grits as he leans his chin in his hand.

"Oh, yes," you twiddle your fingers and flutter around, watching your feet as you step between the trim of the hardwood slats of the floor, "I can make... coffee. I don't drink it you know, just tea. Coffee makes me... hyper!"

You spin cluelessly. Not knowing where to begin. You have no idea where everything is. There are no labels like your apartment. Every shelf, every cupboard has the precise contents listed on the outside, just like you like. So everything is in order. You hate chaos.

Bucky grumbles and Steve lets out a soft breath, "sweetheart, one step at a time," he girds.

Steve comes forward as you step back to watch him open a cupboard. He pulls down a bag of coffee, burlap with print stamped across it. The smell of its contents seep into your nose. Comforting even if its too bitter for your taste.

"Oh, thanks," you step forward carefully and hug the bag with your hands.

"Grinder is here," he points, "and the press."

You look between both and try to hide your confusion. Oh. You don't know how to do all that. You chew your lip and loosen the drawstring at the top of the bag. You stare inside tenuously.

He opens a drawer and takes out a metal measuring cup. He offers it to you.

"One scoop."

You take it and scoop out the beans. Then you just stand there with it. You look at him and cringe.

"In the grinder," he directs gently as he pulls forward the little square machine and pops the top.

You pour the beans inside, the rattle of them making a small rhythm that carries in your head. You bop your head, trying to follow it as your nerves get the better of you. You can't help but make up little nonsensical songs in your head when you feel so lost.

He shuts the lid and steps back.

"Press the button."

You obey and press the button. There's a short whir then the machine quiets again.

He stifles a laugh, "hold it down."

You push and keep your finger jammed. You watch the blade turn the beans to powder and he gestures for you to stop. He slides over the press and pulls a spoon out of the open drawer. You reach over to shut it without thinking. He hesitates but says nothing about it.

"So, six table spoons. Open it up."

You try to flip the top of the machine open like he did but it won't budge. You grab it firmly and try to force it open. He moves forward.

"You gotta hit the switch--"

Suddenly the compartment detaches from the rest of the machine and the lid opens, dusting you and the floor with coffee grinds. You stand in stunned silence as a growl rolls up Bucky's throat.

"Steve, just make the coffee, I'm dying here."

"I'm sorry," you push your lip out, "I made a mess."

You look around at the smatter of grinds all around you and littered across your dress. You shake it off and shiver. You glance between the men.

"I'm very sorry," you apologise again, "I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to. Don't be mad."

"It's fine, sweetheart," Steve reaches to touch your shoulder and you flinch, "get the broom out of the closet. Clean it up."

"Uh, uh, alright," you shake off the front of your dress before turning on your heel.

You go to the closet, the weight of Bucky's gaze following you. You open the door and find a broom, taking it out with the dustpan. You shut it and look past it to the doorway that gives a peak of another; a door with windows that look out on a leafy yard.

"Doll," Bucky warns from behind you.

"Sorry, was just looking," you spin and nearly trip over the bristles.

"Can't go outside until we can trust you," he adds.

"You don't trust me," you stand dumbly with the broom and pan. "Why not?"

He gives you a look. Your lips form an O. Yeah, the tea. Fair.

"Sorry," you repeat.

You set to sweeping up the grinds and Steve shows you where the bin is. Then he goes about making the coffee himself as you watch. He peeks over and smiles.

"Bacon and eggs are in the fridge."

You nod and go to the large fridge, a wooden front that makes it blend in with the rest of the decor. You open it and find the eggs easily but can't figure which paper packet is bacon. Not until you see the scribble sharpy scrawled on the other side.

You go back to the counter and peer around. Just as clueless as ever. Steve directs you to the pots and pans and you take out what you need. He tells you to put the kettle on and you stop to do that as he stands back and watches you. It suddenly feels like a test.

You struggle to catch the gas burner, making yourself dizzy as the flame doesn't light.

"She's gonna burn this place down," Bucky snarls.

"Relax," Steve steps forward and gets the burner going for you. "There."

"She can't do anything on her own."

Steve retreats and points at Bucky. You don't look back as he approaches the other man and you hear the scratch of a whisper between them. You put the kettle on the lit burner, then lay the skillet on another. You focus and repeat what Steve did, managing to light the second.

"I did it!"

Bucky sighs as Steve praises you, "good girl."

You could smile. You're good. You can do things.

You turn on the oven, that's easier. You lay out bacon on a sheet and wait for it to preheat as you add oil to the pan. You search the cupboard and find a bowl to mix the eggs. You examine the spice rack, taking your pick of the many containers.

You shake your head and seal your lips as you have to smell them to see which is which. Steve hums before he speaks.

"What's wrong?"

You shrug, "nothing..."

He arches his brow and lifts his chin slightly. You clutch the oregano and gulp.

"Captain," you clear your throat, "in my apartment, I label stuff so I know. I can't find anything without the labels."

"Labels?" He repeats thoughtfully.

"Use your head. Remember," Bucky scoffs and receives a nudge from Steve.

"Labels, how about we make that your first project. Bucky can go in to town and get you a nice label maker of your own," Steve looks at his companion, "won't you?"

Bucky scowls, "if I don't get coffee soon, I'm not doing shit."

You widen your eyes and cover your mouth. Steve tuts, "Buck, watch your mouth."

"She's an adult, she can handle it."

"You're an adult too so stop being a brat," Steve warns, "sweetheart, keep going. I'll get his coffee."

He nears and pulls down a mug from yet another cupboard. He fills it and holds it up, "the sergeant takes his black, I don't mind a bit of cream. Okay?"

"Black," you nod at Bucky, "cream," you look back at Steve, "I'll try to remember."

"I know," he winks before he walks away.

He hands over the mug to Bucky and comes back to pour his own but you're there first. You put down the oregano and reach up to grab a red mug. You shut the cupboard and fill it, scurrying around Steve to grab the cream from the fridge. You add a little and offer him the cup. A grin slowly spread across his face.

"You're so sweet, thank you," he takes it, "you're a good learner, you know that?"

"I am?" You smile.

"Very smart girl," he raises the cup, blowing across it before taking a sip, "perfect. You got it just right."

You clap your hands together proudly, "see," you face Bucky, "I can do it, sergeant."

He squints at you over his own steaming mug and says nothing as he drinks. His blue eyes pierce you coldly. Your face falls and you tuck your chin down, turning back to take the oregano and you go back to the bowl of eggs.

You can do this. You're not going to burn the eggs. Or the bacon.

"Do you have a timer?" You ask. That's the only way you ever get anything done but you don't have your phone anymore, which means all your alarms are useless.

"Yep," Steve grabs a small apple shaped timer from the corner of the counter and places it by the stove, "just twist."

"Thank you, Captain," you take it and look at the numbers.

He leans in and lowers his voice, "he'll come around. You'll show him, I know you will, sweetheart."

You bite down your lip and look at him. His eyes fall to your mouth as it curves, just a little, your cheeks burning.

"I'm trying," you eke out.

"I know," he reaches to rub your arm, dragging his hand up around your shoulder and playing with the sleeve of your dress, "did I tell you how nice you look?"

"Thank you," you preen.

"Doesn't she look nice, Bucky?" He steps back and crosses to the island where Bucky nurses his cup.

"Not bad," Bucky says, not quite a compliment but not as bad as you expect.

You'll just have to do better. Put all those tools that Dr. Makira gave you to work.

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nickfowlerrr · 11 months

Text

@nicestgirlonline: moodboard request: the old gods of the forest, cabin in the woods, lumberjack steve rogers!

#steve rogers moodboard #lumberjack!steve rogers #my moods #i was unsure what old gods of the forest was so i just searched that aesthetic lol #i hope this fits your vision 🫣#steve rogers #lumberjack steve rogers

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biteofcherry · 7 months

Text

lumberjack!Steve Rogers x reader

🍁🍁🍁

Mulled wine hitting your head a little faster than usual (which was surprising, considering all the delicious food you managed to eat at the event), you stumbled as your boot got stuck in the mud again. A muscular arm wound around you, preventing your fall and helping you regain balance. You saw dark ink resembling wildlife weave up the man's forearm to disappear beneath the rolled up sleeve of a plaid shirt. When you straightened and turned around to thank him, you were met with a pair of brilliant blue eyes, shining with soft mischief as he looked down at you from beneath eyelashes. The same blue eyes you've been meeting constantly throughout the day. Because you've been checking him out every few moments, unable to stop yourself. You've seen bearded men in the city. You've seen men with charming smiles and nice physique. Somehow, they couldn't compare to the effect a lumberjack from some small town had on your... well, on your everything. From your head, to your fluttering heart, down to your ovaries who suddenly awoke with really disturbing needs. Worst part, every time you glanced his way, he caught you looking. And now his arm was around you, still. He was smiling at you. You had to tilt your head, because he was so much taller. Broader, too. Never before had you felt so tiny compared to a man. It was surprisingly thrilling. Your mind instantly replayed flashes of the lumberjack competition that your friend brought you to see, where he - Steve Rogers, you were intently listening to every bit of information that was spoken about him around - showed skill and strength that made your thighs clench. Thankfully, though mulled wine made you less coordinated, it didn't completely ruin your self control. Otherwise you could've spluttered Split me in two, the way you begged in your head as you watched Steve chop wood earlier.

based on this autumn aesthetic poll

🍂 all autumn aesthetic moodboards 🍂

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers imagine #lumberjack!steve rogers #autumn aesthetic #autumn aesthetic moodboard #moodboard

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jobean12-blog · 2 years

Note

Joooo have you seen Sebbys dancing story? What am I saying ofc you have!!

But like what if you mixed that and Chris 'awkward dancing tgt?? Like reader waking up to these boys jamming it out while making breakfast on a beautiful Sunday morning ( imagine them trying to twerk😂😂). Or coming home from a long day of work and just admiring the view

😍😍😍

Morning Wood

Pairing: Stucky x reader (Lumberjack AU but they are retired superheroes)

Word Count: 1,405

Summary: You and the boys are enjoying your time paradise. Retirement is good.

Author's Note: Hi love! Thank you so much for this fun and sweet request! It made me smile! I decided to have them living their best life in a beautiful and secluded cabin somewhere amazing! I also thought it would be an amazing excuse to use these gorgeous edits by my friend @thelemonadestxnd 🥰Hope you're having a lovely night and you enjoy this! Hugs! 💕Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my sweet @firefly-graphics thank you lovely🥰

Warnings: soft and fun fluff, teasing, implied sexy fun, lots of silliness, Alpine

Edits NOT MINE: Credit goes to @thelemonadestxnd for BOTH of these gorgeous pieces!

It isn’t the warm sunshine or the loud twitter of the birds singing outside your window that wakes you from a deep and sated sleep. Even your fluffy white cat, Alpine, has his head up, pointy ears flat against his head and a disgruntled look on his face.

“Alpine,” you mumble. “What in the…?”

The cat meows in response, stretching and kneading at the sheets before curling back into a ball and closing his eyes.

“Yea…” you say in sleepy agreement, “I don’t know either. Back to bed.”

You lift the covers over your shoulder and snuggle back into the pillow, letting your eyelids softly shut until you hear the racket again.

“Whyyyy,” you whine.

With a frustrated huff you beat at the pillow before throwing the sheets off and swinging your legs over the bed. Steve’s large tee shirt falls to your knees and you stomp over to the chair and grab Bucky’s discarded flannel and put it on.

Something round and heavy thumps against your chest and you slip your hand into the breast pocket of Bucky’s flannel. Your fingers wrap around something smooth and slightly pliant. You smile to yourself and gently pat the pocket, whispering, “I’ll save that for later.”

“What the hell are they up to!?” you screech, peeking out the large bedroom window.

You can’t see either one of your boys but you can certainly hear them. You shuffle into the kitchen and see all the necessities for your favorite breakfast ready on the counter as well as a fresh bouquet of the most beautiful wildflowers at the center of the table.

You soften at the sight and slide on your slippers. When you open the large front door of the cabin, the morning air holds a slight chill that the late Spring sun is quickly chasing away and the air is sweet with the fragrance of new growth.

You step out onto the large porch and walk down the steps, making your way to the back of the house and the source of the commotion. With a few more steps you turn the corner of the house and the sight in front of you makes you stop in your tracks.

Both Bucky and Steve are standing near the pile of firewood, shirtless, suspenders hanging freely around their legs, with their axes over their shoulders and their tight jeans clinging to their thick thighs.

You swallow hard as your entire body reacts, goosebumps covering your skin and your thighs clenched.

“Stevie. Come on! America’s ass can do better than that,” Bucky teases.

“I’m trying pal,” Steve shouts as he continues bending and shaking his ass.

Bucky drops his axe and proceeds to show Steve once again how to twerk.

“Look Rogers. Legs shoulder width apart ok? Like you’re gonna do a squat. Really bend those knees.”

You reach into Bucky’s flannel pocket and pull out his hidden treasure, biting into the juicy flesh of the plum while you watch the entertainment unfold. You can’t take your eyes off them as you munch, glad for the small distraction of the fruit.

Steve studies Bucky intently, his eyebrows drawn in with his focused concentration.

“Now, arch your back, you really want your butt to be out there ya know,” Bucky continues.

Steve positions himself the same as Bucky, nodding intently.

“We really need some music,” Bucky sighs. “Alright, hands on your knees and bounce.”

Bucky shakes his ass and you stifle a giggle, not wanting the show to end.

"Ok, ok, lemme try again,” Steve says once Bucky stops.

Bucky straightens and steps back, leaning against the wood pile.

Steve shouts, “I think I got it!”

You let out a snort and Steve’s mid twerk when he goes still while Bucky throws you a knowing smirk.

“Is that my plum?” Bucky asks, sauntering over.

You shrug, the motion purposefully casual as you lick the plum juice from the corner of your mouth.

“Hiya doll face,” Bucky murmurs as he takes you in his arms. “Lemme get some of that.”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, sucking gently before pulling away and humming pleasingly at the taste.

Steve walks over with a bright smile, planting his axe on the ground and leaning down to kiss you.

“And is that my shirt?” Bucky asks, fingering his flannel.

“And my tee shirt,” Steve adds.

“Yes, yes and YES!” you huff. “What about it? Couldn’t you two find other shirts to wear this morning?”

The boys stare at you before bursting into chuckles.

“Nah, too much work,” Bucky sings. “Besides, the sun is warm.”

“And what has you up so early sunshine?” Steve asks.

“YOU TWO!” you scold. “Alpine and I were all cozy in bed and then you two started a twerk party.”

“Bucky started it,” Steve states. “We originally came out here to cut the last of the firewood.”

“I just don’t want him going around saying he can do it if he can’t,” Bucky announces.

“But I can now,” Steve responds with a goofy grin.

“Well, I thoroughly enjoyed the show,” you giggle. “It just wasn’t the morning wood I was hoping to wake up to.”

Bucky drops his head, shaking it as he laughs loudly.

“I don’t get it,” Steve says. “What’s so funny about morning wood?

“Oh my gosh Stevie,” you snicker.

You grab Steve’s shoulder and pull his ear down to your lips. When he stands back up his eyes go wide and then his smile follows.

“Oh yea. That happens every morning,” he states. “Then we end up spending most of it in bed…”

Bucky walks by and slaps Steve on the back of his head before scooping you into his arms.

“We’re sorry we woke you doll face,” Bucky croons. “Let’s go have breakfast.”

You look over Bucky’s shoulder and wink at Steve as you finish off the plum. Bucky brings you into the house and sets you down gently on the kitchen island.

“Now, you just relax angel. Me and Stevie are gonna make ya breakfast.”

Steve slides between your legs for a quick kiss before meeting Bucky at the sink to wash his hands. They work in perfect harmony, easily navigating the kitchen space to prepare pancakes, eggs, bacon and a bowl of fresh fruit.

They set the table and smile proudly, matching lopsided grins when you lick your lips.

“Ya hungry doll? Bucky simpers.

“Uh huh,” you breathe out.

You slide off the island into Steve’s waiting arms. Steve sits down and pulls you into his lap and Bucky pulls his chair close.

“I guess getting woken up to watch you two shake your asses and then get a homemade breakfast isn’t the worst thing…” you simper, reaching for the fruit.

Bucky and Steve smile, their mouths stuffed full of pancakes. Alpine finally wanders in from the bedroom with a loud meow.

“Oh, look who has finally decided to grace us with his presence,” you chide. “Get enough beauty rest fluffball?”

The cat slips between Bucky’s spread legs and jumps up onto his thigh, perching himself daintily while he cleans himself.

“Don’t get any ideas cat. That’s my seat!” you say as you narrow your eyes at Alpine.

The cat lifts his tail and nestles closer into Bucky’s side, pawing at the spots of sun dancing over his metal arm.

“I swear he does it on purpose,” you whine.

“Don’t be jealous doll face,” Bucky purrs. “You know I’m all yours.”

You stick your tongue out at the cat and rest your head along Steve’s chest, lightly combing your fingers through the hair that lines his hard muscles.

Alpine watches your every move before tiptoeing across Bucky’s lap and placing one white paw onto Steve’s thigh.

You instantly sit up. “Don’t even think about it cat! THIS SEAT IS ALL MINE!”

The boys laughter is so quick and loud that Alpine jumps down with an unhappy meow and goes to lay in a ray of sun on the floor.

“You two,” Steve starts as syrup drips down his chin.

“So cute,” Bucky finishes with a smirk.

You swipe your thumb across Steve’s chin and then stick it in your mouth to lick it clean.

“Whatever,” you huff, nibbling on some bacon.

“I don’t think we can let our girl get outta bed early anymore Buck,” Steve says.

“You’re right Stevie. From now on any morning wood business stays in bed until she’s happy.”

@book-dragon-13 @christywantspizza @dreamlessinparis @goldylions @hiddles-rose @jhangelface0523 @loricamebackyetagain @lookiamtrying @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @breakablebarnes @seitmai @justile @weekendgothgirl @turbolisedcomet @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @hiddles-and-skittles @loki-laufeyson-1054 @rebel-stardust @peaches1958 @bb-skyrunner

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky x reader #stucky x female reader #stucky x you #stucky imagine #stucky fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x you #lumberjack au

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ghostlyfleur · 7 months

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💭 hawkins is both a lake and a mountain town and our boy steve harrington works as a barista with robin at a coffee shop owned by joyce plus lumberjack during colder months.

thoughts?

#fairy writes #daydreamin’#steve harrington (harmo’s version)#*hums* i’m world-building #stranger things au #barista!steve #lumberjack!steve

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witchylovess · 3 months

Text

IM LOOKING FOR A FANFIC

It’s a modern au. Steve rogers x reader it’s definitely a series.

Reader is a writer and goes to a cabin to work in their book and meets Steve , I think they’re neighbours . Steve used to be a cop and Peggy was his partner and she died and he becomes a recluse living in a cabin. I think he works at a mill? They become friends and more and at the end they go back to the city together , they meet up with Bucky and I think Sam and they’re surprised to see him. That’s all I can remember.

#x reader #avengers x reader #fanfic #marvel #the avengers #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #fic finder #avengers #modern au #marvel x reader #searching for a fanfic #fic search #avengers fanfiction #lumberjack steve rogers

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buckymilf · 2 years

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this steve with this bucky:

#i want those sexy lumberjacks together #they deserve their soft epilogue #stucky #bucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stevebucky #captain america #wintershield #marvel #steve x bucky #winter soldier #bucky with the good hair

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navybrat817 · 4 months

Note

Navy how's our lumber snack doing with Christmas around the corner? Are they snuggled up by the fire with hot cocoa?

That's exactly what he's doing, nonnie!

By the Fireplace

Pairing: Lumberjack!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve is exactly where he needs to be. Word Count: Over 500 Warnings: Fluff, Steve experiencing peace, established relationship, Steve Rogers (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Tiny ficlet for Beefcake and Tippy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The fireplace glowed with radiant flames as Steve took a seat on the floor beside you. He had added a couple of logs before he made the hot chocolate, the sweet scent of the warm beverage drifting to his nostrils before he took a sip. Soft music filled the air and he couldn’t help but smile when he caught you humming along. Like him, you didn’t want anything over-the-top for the holidays.

Just the pleasure of being with each other was more than enough.

“Don’t worry. I won’t damage your ears by singing,” you teased as you stretched a blanket over the two of you to share.

He chuckled as he wrapped a pair of strong arms around you. “It would take a lot more than your singing to damage my ears,” he teased back, brushing his beard along your cheek to make you giggle, the sound soft and pleasant. “So sing as much as you’d like.”

“I think I’ll just stick to writing,” you smiled, leaning into him with a gentle sigh. “Steve?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You didn’t say anything right away, but you did place a hand over his. “This is enough for you, right? This life?”

“It’s more than enough,” he answered without hesitation, hoping he hadn’t done or said something to make you think otherwise. He loved the home and life the two of you made together. If he did something to make you think otherwise, he’d have to remedy that immediately.

“Are you sure? There isn’t a small part of you that wishes you were fighting tonight?” You asked, tilting your head so you could stare into his eyes.

You once told Steve that you liked looking into people’s eyes because they always told the truth when some often weaved lies with their words. You chose to listen to the unspoken gazes. The eyes also conveyed so much emotion, the very windows to the soul because you could see right through them.

And he had nothing to hide from you.

He understood why you asked though. Deep down he was still the man of action who couldn’t turn a blind eye when things pointed south. But you were the one of the reasons he still occasionally fought. He had a home to defend and someone to come back to. Something to fight for.

You were his home.

“No. Not tonight,” he replied with an unwavering tone and stare so you’d know how serious he was. “This is exactly where I’m meant to be. Right by our fireplace with hot chocolate nearby and you in my arms.”

With soft eyes full of love, you brought your lips to his. It ignited a flame inside him almost as warm and bright as the crackling fire feet away. The pieces of his heart that he struggled to put together after the ice connected the moment the two of you met. You were his glue and strength.

And like the winter holiday encouraged, he felt a sense of love and peace by being in the moment.

Just like Bucky, Steve deserves peace, too. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Outside the Lines 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsessive compulsive behaviour, kidnapping, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has her routine and her fellow patient gets in the way of those.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, (lumberjack AU)

Note: I shouldn’t be posting this. Oops.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You walk on your toes, eyes to the floor as you focus on placing your feet within the edges of the tiled pattern. You can’t touch the cracks! You nearly stumble as the front of your flat mary janes come close to the line. You bite your lip and look ahead to the door at the end of the hall.

The frosted glass window set into walnut beckons you onwards, a beacon of familiarity among the strange. You step over the next line as footsteps clamour behind you. The hurried figure bowls you over as he passes, almost if he doesn’t see you.

Your sole lands across a crack and you gasp as you face the man and he apologises in a dull mutter. He pauses and glances at you, a wrinkle between his brows as you quickly step within the lines. Anxiety thrums in your chest and you step three times back and forth within the square tile.

“Are you… okay?” his deep voice draws your attention back to him as he watches your feet, gaze slowly creeping up your long plaid skirt and baggy peacoat.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you insist in a small wisp as you rub your hands together, “it’s just… I stepped on the line.”

“Um, alright,” he tilts his head as he arches a brow, “I’m sorry, I’m late.”

“It’s… fine,” you turn back and begin your deliberate pace towards the end of the hall.

You feel him watching you. You don’t like it. You don’t like to be looked at. That’s why you stay inside. You only come out for your appointments, otherwise, Dr. Makira would admit you again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he lingers and you watch his gloved fingers twiddle against his jeans.

“Sure,” you shy away from him as you step diagonally to the next tile, “I don’t want to make you late.”

Your teeth chatter and you close your mouth. You can’t remember the last stranger you spoke to. You only ever gave your name to the secretary, Miranda, then waited your turn with the doctor. You don’t look up and you certainly don’t speak to strangers.

“Mmhm,” he hums and you watch his boots twist on the tile and squeak as he marches away. You wince as he steps on the lines but focus on keeping inside in your own progression towards the office.

His steps fade to nothing and voices carry from the open door. When you get there, he’s nowhere in sight, not that you search for him. You sign in with Miranda and cross to your seat, two to the left of the door. That’s where you sit, every time.

You take off your jacket and fold it neatly over your lap as you sit, smoothing the fabric. You hook one foot behind the other and bounce impatiently. You try to gather your energy for your session but your mind wanders back to the man and how you tread the line. That was bad luck. He must be too.

🌲

He’s there again. You enter the office, a little hop over the threshold onto the carpet. You give your name as you usually do but Miranda knows it. You sanitize after you put down your signature and turn. He’s in your seat. Your chest knots and your hands ball.

You teeter and glance around. There’s several empty seats but not yours. You feel uneasy as you stand beside the row of seats, just beside the door and stand, rocking on your heels. He’s in your seat!

The filmy pages of the magazine flip in his gloved hands and he sighs. You clamp your lips and tap your cheek; one two three.

“Are you going to sit?” he asks flatly.

You stare at the Dr. Makira’s door. You tap your shoulder; one two three. He clears his throat and sniffs.

“Hey, I said, aren’t you going to sit?” he repeats.

Your eyes round and you peek over at him. You shake your head. He grimaces.

“No offense but you’re kinda bothering me just standing there,” he says.

You shrug and look at the door again. You wring your hands and sway, shifting your weight from heel to heel.

“Fine,” he grumbles and tosses the magazine so it slides past the pile.

Your eyes flit over and cling to the disorder he created. You try to resist but you can’t. You go over and straighten the stack, pushing them straight with your fingers. You back up and take out your sanitizer. He clicks his tongue.

“What’s going on?” he snarls as if you’re a gnat buzzing around his head.

You rub your hands together and bare your teeth awkwardly. You take a breath.

“You’re in my seat,” you utter.

“What?” he huffs.

“That’s my seat, I sit there,” you point to the chair, “but it’s alright. I’ll stand.”

“Your…” he grips his thick leg, just above his knee. He stands and you back up, frightened by the sudden movement, “go ahead.”

“No, it’s okay, I–”

“Please, sit,” he says, “I’m here for therapy, not to be driven nuts.”

“Sir,” Miranda warns, there’s a strict policy against that sort of language.

“Sorry,” he mutters and moves to a new chair, “there ya go.”

“Thank you,” You remove your jacket and fold it neatly. You spin and sit, the seat warm from his prior occupation. It doesn’t feel right. You tap three times on the wool and fidget.

“What’s wrong now?” he asks.

“Nothing,” you lie, “nothing wrong.” Your lips continue to move noiselessly, ‘nothing, nothing, nothing…’

He squints and looks away, checking his watch. Just as he drops his hand, the door opens and Dr. Makira emerges, bidding farewell to her previous patient.

“James,” she calls out and the man stands.

“I told you, doc,” he crosses the waiting room, “it’s Bucky.”

The door shuts behind him as she welcomes him in and your eyes linger on it. You sit back, then lean forward again. Something’s off. He messed it all up!

🌲

He passes you again but this time he doesn’t disturb your progress up the tiled floor. You watch his shoulders as he enters ahead of you and put your feet down one at a time. You wait behind him as he chats with Miranda, asking her to reschedule his next appointment. You stand at the door until he finishes.

You step up, check-in, and sanitize. He sits to the right of your usual seat. You claim the chair, this time it feels better, and fold your jacket over your lap. You cross your ankles and run your hands over the wool.

You sense him watching you and peek up. His brows lift and his cheek dimples as if amused. You tap your nose three times and correct yourself. You look at the door that says Dr. Makira. You push your lips together and breathe through your nose.

You rock and still yourself, nerves swirling in your stomach. You glance over again. He’s still watching you. Now, he seems really intrigued. It happens. You take the bus and people stare at you there too.

“Please, stop,” you whisper.

“Pardon?” he asks as he leans forward.

“Looking at me,” you eke out a little louder, “stop looking at me.”

“Sorry,” he chuckles and scratches his scruffy jaw, “I wasn’t meaning to stare.”

You harrumph as he finally looks away. You twine your fingers and tap your toe three times. You try not to squirm, try not to go through your routines, but it’s hard. That’s why you come here. To try to fix yourself. Makira says it’s not fixing though, no, it’s understanding, acknowledging, and awareness. You are improving yourself, not fixing.

“Bucky,” Makira gets his name right that time and you realise that you’d been staring at him that time.

You turn away as he stands and goes to her, his voice echoing in your head even after the door closes. Maybe you should change your appointment too.

🌲

You walk across the pavement, the cracks disordered and harder to avoid. The bus stop isn’t far but takes longer as you dodge your fellow pedestrians and the lines around your feet. You peer ahead, just ten more steps.

“Hey,” the voice calls your name and you hear someone jogging behind you. You stop and face the man as he catches up to you. It’s him; Bucky.

You frown and take a step back, looking down to avoid the crack.

“You take the bus?” he asks.

You blink and nod.

“Well, I can’t imagine that’s fun for you,” he says, “I’m just on my way out as well, you want a ride?”

You shake your head frantically. You undo your top button then do it back up nervously.

“Figured I’d offer,” he turns his hands up, “that’s all. Being friendly.”

“Thank you, but…” you croak.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you,” he cups his ear.

“No, thank you,” you say louder, “I don’t talk to strangers.”

“Well, you’re talking to me and I don’t think I’m a stranger,” he argues, “you see me almost every week, you know my name and I know yours. So?”

“I don’t…” your heart races. Are you being rude? Dr. Makira has been trying to help with your social interaction. You try to remember her tips. “How are you?”

“What?” he sputters, confused.

“Oh, I… was trying to be polite so…” you swallow.

“I’m doing fine,” he says, “how are you?”

“I am… good?” you answer.

“Is that a question?” he wonders.

You shy away from his blue eyes. This isn’t going well. A rumble putters down the curb and speeds past the empty stop ahead of you. You let out a disappointed breath and watch your bus turn the corner.

“Shit, was that your bus?” he asks.

You nod and clap three times. He doesn’t seem to notice or if he does, he doesn’t show it.

“Well, then I guess you have no choice, I’m trying to be polite too,” he offers sweetly, his usually stony voice light, “so can I do you a favour and drive you home?”

You look at the sidewalk below your feet. You feel mean saying no. You remember how you made him move from your seat. He could’ve been mean then. He wasn’t. It was just a drive. Twenty minutes at most.

“Okay,” you relent.

“Great, I parked over in that lot,” he points just behind the stop.

You nod and wait for him to lead you. You follow behind him but he slows to meet your pace as you walk between the lines. It takes a bit but you get across the lot as he goes ahead to open the passenger door of a silver car with tinted windows.

“Can I sit in the back?” you ask as you near, “I always sat in the back…” you let your voice drift off.

“Sure,” he closes the door and opens the other, “get in.”

“Thank you,” you near and step past him, looking inside before you go further.

You slide onto the seat and buckle the belt. You sanitize and put the bottle back in the purse strapped across your middle. He gets in the front.

The car smells like his cologne. He fixes the rearview and pushes the button that turns the engine. You’ve never seen that before.

“I like your hat,” he says as he shifts into gear, “it’s cute.”

You reach up and touch the bow along your felt hat. You smile. “Thank you.”

“What’s your address? So I don’t get too lost.”

“Oh,” you stretch your fingers as your hands sweat and recite your address. He types it into the touchscreen that sits where the radio should be.

He steers out of the spot and slowly rolls around the lot.

“Shoot,” he says as the screen lights up with a chirp, “I totally forgot. Do you mind if I pick up a friend on the way?”

“A friend,” you let out a heavy breath, “I don’t know.”

“I don’t have to,” he assures as he flips his blinker on, “but it’s on the way and it would be easier.”

“I… guess,” you feel bad making the rules in his car.

“He’s a good guy,” he says, “don’t worry. If you want, I’ll even tell him not to talk to you.”

“I… I’m sorry,” you hang your head.

“For what?” he asks as he turns out into traffic.

“For being so weird,” you say, “I know I am but I can’t help it.”

“Weird? Not at all, doll,” he replies, “trust me, I’m not much of a people person either.”

“Oh?” you mull his words.

Silence pervades the car as your thoughts take you away. You straighten your hat and tap your cheek, trying to conceal the habitual movement. If he doesn’t like people, why did he go out of his way to offer you a ride?

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #au #lumberjack au #series #outside the lines #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers #winter soldier

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pellucid-constellations · 2 years

Note

yes pleaseeee give us angst with the undisclosed bear attack!! i love crying :)

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky x Reader (just Bucky in this one, he doesn't know you yet lol)

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: injury, angst!!!, you asked for this

a/n: Here’s a link to the series Undisclosed. Thank you for this little writing inspo before I head to work <3

____________________________________________

Bucky concluded that all the moments in his life had been leading up to this. The late nights always spent at the same diner. The early mornings building the house he would surely live in until he was old and gray. The days, all counted in these very woods, working with the people he had known since childhood.

He had always been here, always been a part of Stowe Mills. And as he laid in the snow and felt the coolness seep into his jacket—felt the pain slowly numbing in his left arm—he knew he would always stay in Stowe Mills as well.

Bucky couldn’t move. It was as if he was rooted to the ground by an intangible weight, rendered unconscious by a pain he no longer felt. But Bucky was far from unconscious, and the tingling in his fingers and toes meant he soon would be. If it wasn’t the blood loss that would take him, it would be the hypothermia.

There were many things Bucky hadn’t done. He hadn’t done all the bucket list items he was sure normal people had—skydiving, bungee jumping, traveling the world. He had never ridden a bull or been to the beach or even gotten a tattoo. And sure, as he sunk further into the snow and felt his body tremble, skydiving sounded nice, important even.

But Bucky was mourning other things. Things like Natasha and Maria’s wedding and Steve’s first kid. The day Sarah finally retired and the moment Sam would finally admit that he sucked at poker. He mourned Greta’s sour face as he tracked snow into the library and all the moments in his sister's life he would surely miss.

Bucky mourned that he would never fall in love.

He wouldn’t know a gentleness reserved only for him—would never get to wake up and pull someone closer in the home he never intended for one. He would never feel like he belonged to someone, something, other than Stowe Mills and this job that followed him through his life. He took a long breath and looked out as the air he created turned white under the trees.

“Buck, you out here?”

A tinge of surprise coated Bucky’s dry throat, but he couldn’t call out. Instead, he listened as Steve’s boots crunched in the snow, and he considered how far away from town he was. How many miles Steve would try dragging him before he fell unconscious.

“Is that—Bucky!” Steve shouted, and then his pace picked up. “Bucky, I swear to god that better not be yours.”

He must have seen the blood, or maybe the bag he had dropped as he ran. The ground started shaking by his head, and Bucky was beyond relieved that he was now face to face with Steve and not Sarah; Sarah didn’t need to see this.

“Oh my god,” Steve choked out, one hand coming up to Bucky’s head while the other assessed his arm. “What happened to you, buddy?”

“Bear,” Bucky rasped out, eyes feeling heavy now that Steve leaned over him. It must have been a childhood comfort thing, feeling like he could finally sleep.

Steve cringed, ripping his scarf from his neck and tying it in a knot around Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky felt a whisper of an ache there, but mostly he felt cold. Steve was hauling him up from the ground before he could protest.

“I’m gonna get you some help, Buck, alright? You just stay awake. I promise you’ll be okay.”

Bucky wasn’t sure if it was all his time in the military, or if Steve’s ax work made him so resilient, but Steve was running with him on his back. He was pushing through the snow with a seamless ease and keeping him firm against his body, and Bucky wanted to tell him not to worry so much. But Bucky also felt his eyes slipping closed, so there wasn’t much he could say.

“Hey, awake, Bucky! You hear me? You stay awake or I’m gonna…I’m gonna—” his voice cracked. His steps faltered. “Stay awake,” he finalized.

He thinks he stayed awake. Maybe. All that registered was the pounding of Steve’s fist on the doctor’s front door and his exhausted huffs as he pleaded with the older man to come to the clinic. Because it wasn’t as if Stowe Mills had a 24/7 emergency room; it wasn’t often that people knocked on death’s door at… four in the morning? Bucky didn’t know the time.

Steve was on the phone with someone. The lights in the clinic gave him a headache. The doors pounded open and a softer voice broke through the space.

“Is he okay?” Becca. It was Becca and she was frantic for some reason. Bucky tried to blink and catch her, but he felt foggy all the sudden, more weightless.

“I—I don’t know. I brought him here as fast as I could but there was so much…so much—Becca, they’re taking him down the mountain.”

A calloused hand gripped his own—not Becca’s. Bucky was sure Steve made Becca wait out in the hall. He’d have to thank him for that if he woke up later.

“You’re gonna be okay, man. We’ve all got you,” Sam assured, low and deep by Bucky’s ear, as if he wasn’t exactly sure he could hear him.

How many people had Steve called? Surely the entire town didn’t need to race in at such a crazy time, just to watch Bucky lie on a table. But he thought about it, and Bucky would be doing the same for each and every one of them. For hours if he had to. He’d mourn this if he slipped away… his family, he thought, as something poked into his right arm.

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and did his best to grip Sam’s hand, but the doctor had given him something to warm him up, he figured, and it was making him feel fuzzy. He already felt fuzzy earlier. Sam had enough of a grip on his fingers for the both of them.

And then he was slipping into some strange unconscious where time didn’t make sense. He could hear counting, Steve’s voice the loudest as he was raised onto some stiff surface by multiple hands. He felt soft touches on his face, a flash of red hair and an ache in his head as he fought the urge to fall asleep.

He heard a loud wind, a raucous disruption to the usually quiet town as the biting air of winter met his skin once again. Someone was crying. Maybe it was him, but he didn’t think so. And then he was weightless again, and falling into a sleep that he wanted to welcome.

Bucky was in a helicopter, and the last thing he remembered before slipping into darkness was that riding in a helicopter had never been on his bucket list.

#undisclosed #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #lumberjack bucky #lumberjack steve

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