#moonstruckhargrovevday

[shreddedparchment]

Indecent Proposal

02/13/2019

Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 5,185

Warnings: Some angst, who am I kidding? Lots, dummy Bucky, light-smut, language.

A/N: This is my entry for @moonstruckhargrove ‘s Valentine’s Day Writing Challenge. I hope you like it because I’m pretty sour about Valentine’s Day too! I hate quite a bit of fun writing this one. Bucky is always a cutie when he’s trying to win the girl back. I hope you all love it! As always, if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Ah, Valentine’s Day. A day that had, for many years drawn scorn from you.

You'd lamented as a child when you only got two Valentine’s Day cards in the little tissue box hastily decorated with pink and red construction paper. Your name drawn messily in bright purple marker with a small blue heart at the end.

Every year you’d wished for more, but little did you know how lucky you had been or how precious those two valentines had been.

Then it was middle school and there were heart shaped lollipops. Lollipops that one could purchase to be delivered on said special day.

You watched in subdued anguish as your best friend received four heart shaped lollipops and you received none.

Not a single one. Oh, your dad had brought you a small basket so that you wouldn’t feel left out, and you’d lied about it being from a boy who just so happened to go to another school.

You could tell however, that your friends were in doubt and in utter embarrassment you began to declare your dislike for the holiday and how silly it all is.

When high school came you continued said vocal distaste for Valentine’s Day and included the argument that if couples really loved each other they should show it every day. Not just on Valentine’s Day!

This was of course to cover up the agony of watching your girlfriends get stuffed bears, elephants, and monkeys while you sat in your classroom, arms crossed across your chest, slouched low into your seat as the only person who hadn’t received even a single box of candy.

It would have been almost better if all four years had been this way.

Junior year was tough because you did have a boyfriend. For a bit. He broke up with you shortly before Valentine’s Day. Like, a week. What kind of shit is that? You finally had a boyfriend who could get you something, anything, on this most hated of special days and he'd left you for his ex a week before.

When your friends showered you with sympathy, you declared yourself relieved.

“I’m just lucky he broke up with me before I bought him that Dragonball Z DVD set. Saved some money.” Was your retort.

Inside, you were heartbroken.

As an adult, you’ve accepted the day as any other day in the year. It's not Valentine’s Day, it's just Thursday.

Like today is Wednesday.

From behind you two large arms encircle you. One is hot to the touch, the second is cool, slightly lower than room temperature, the metal snakes it’s way gently around your waist to pull you back against a large chest.

“Hey.” A smooth, lazy tone floats in through your left ear.

You look into the mirror you’re standing in front of and find Bucky's handsome face. He's all scruffy, unshaven with his steel blue eyes peeking up at you from where he's rested his chin on your shoulder.

His dark brown hair frames his face, freshly washed, dripping cold droplets of water onto your bare bicep.

“Hi. When'd you get back?” You smile, happy to have him home.

“An hour ago. Thought I’d shower before coming in to see you.” He explains.

“Bucky, you know I don’t care if you’re a mess when you get home from mission.” You point out, hating to lose any time with him.

“I know. I just wanted to smell good for you.” He shrugs his metal shoulder.

You twist around, adjusting your arms to wrap them around his neck as he straightens up and pulls you flush against his body.

His face is relaxed while a small grin plays on your lips. “Mission accomplished then. Now, I kinda feel bad seeing as I’m all sticky and stinky from working out.”

You'd spent every day he'd been gone in the gym. Joined by Nat or Wanda or even Maria who had decided to stick around for a while and has been asking for a lot of updates on Sam.

Today had been no different. No word from Bucky, Steve, or Sam so to the gym you went.

Bucky raises both eyebrows, intrigued by your words. “Sticky and stinky?”

You chuckle at his teasing tone and then curl your head down as he goes in for the sniff.

“Stop! I hate it when you do that.” You complain.

“What? Why?” Bucky demands then goes down on the right, his nose aimed at your neck.

You laugh and pull away, shoving his chest. He let’s you break his hold and watches you stumble towards the bed before you lose your balance and fall down sitting at the edge.

You look up towards him and see only a flash of blue as your body is suddenly pinned to the mattress.

“Ah!” You scream but collapse into a fit of laughter as Bucky takes both of your hands in each of his and pins them up above your head.

“I’ve got you now, babydoll.” He assures you then lunges for your neck.

“Bucky!” You scream, loving and hating his love of your smell.

He pulls back chuckling, releasing your hands so that you can reach up and push his wet hair back as he leans down to kiss you.

His lips are soft, yearning, and hot. He keeps the kiss simple, relishing in your taste more than anything.

It takes him several minutes to have his fill of your lips then he moves onto your chin, pressing open mouthed kisses to the unwashed skin as he tastes you.

“You were thinking pretty hard when I came in.” He says between kisses.

“Mmmm,” You say both agreeing and enjoying his lips.

“What about?” He asks.

“Valentine’s Day.” You admit.

He freezes, his lips pressed just below your left ear before he pushes himself back up to look down at your face.

He applies most of his weight onto his left arm, supporting himself so that he doesn’t squash you.

“Valentine’s Day?” He asks, sounding confused. “You’ve never mentioned Valentine’s Day before.”

And it's true. Bucky had known you for almost six years now and the two of you have only been together the last two. Last Valentine’s Day, he'd been on mission, so why bring it up?

“I know. Because it doesn’t matter.” You insist, holding on to your preprogrammed response. Your Defense mechanism.

“So, then why were you thinking about it, Sugar?”

You shake your head and hook your fingers into the neck of his shirt. Can you take this off of him now?

“I was remembering it as a kid.” You say with a small smile. “We made these valentine boxes out of tissue boxes and construction paper.”

“That's fun.” Bucky says, smiling a bit as he relaxes more and shifts to lay on your left, propping his head in his hand and right elbow.

“Kinda. It was fun making them. I only ever got two valentines though. One from the teacher who obviously gave them to all of us and one from my best friend. I don’t even remember her name anymore.” You try and think of it, but you can't remember it.

“Two? What was everyone's problem?” Bucky demands offended for you.

“I don’t know.” You admit with a smile. “I was really sad about it. I was only six.”

Bucky suddenly wraps his arms around you, snuggling close, his cheek resting against your left shoulder.

“Well, I would have given adorable baby Y/N a whole box of valentines had I not, you know, been like five times your age and busy killing people.” He grimaces, the picture he paints a bleak one.

“I appreciate that, old man.” You tease.

“Is that all?” He asks, probing for more insight.

“No. I was remembering all of my school years and how they affected my opinion of the holiday. Middle school was worse. High school…I finally had a boyfriend in eleventh grade but he broke up with me a week before V-Day to get back with his ex.” Your smile fades as you think about the childish but very impacting heartbreak that you'd gone through that year.

“What an asshole.” Bucky gripes, angry for you.

“Yeah…funny thing is, he still gave me something. He bought me a chocolate kiss rose.” You blink, thinking about the insult it had been for you.

“His mom probably told him to do it. She really liked me.” You explain.

“Well, fuck that guy. I’m glad he dumped you because his loss is my gain.” Bucky exclaims, rolling back over you to pull your attention back from the past.

You smile as he settles himself on you until you see the serious expression on his face.

“What is it?” You ask, reaching up to place your hands on the sides of his face.

“I didn’t do anything for you last year.” He realizes.

“Oh, baby, so what? You were on mission.” You remind him.

“The fact that you remember I was on mission just proves that the day means more than you’re letting on.”

You sigh, “It's not that it means more I just…I don’t know, I guess it's a complex or something. But I’m okay not doing anything.”

“No. Tomorrow's Valentine’s Day, we gotta do something.” Bucky insists and rises from his spot on you.

You whine, hating that he's getting off of you and now heading towards the door.

“Where are you going?! You just got home.” You complain, wanting him back on top of you, preferably naked.

“I gotta go make some calls.” Looking back at you as he reaches the door.

“Bucky, I don’t care about tomorrow, get your ass back here so that I can get you naked.” There are no secrets between you and Bucky, not even your desires.

“No can do, babydoll. I got a date to plan. But hold that thought. If I get this done in the next few hours, I’ll come find you again.” He winks at you and leaves.

“Bucky!” You scream after him in disbelief that he actually left you on your bed, alone.

The tinkling of champagne glasses, utensils on plates, and the soft laughter and murmurs of the couples surrounding you hold your attention.

You sit with your arms crossed, dressed in a pink lace cocktail dress with cap sleeves and a thin pink belt around the waist, you tap the toes of your black heels impatiently.

You'd specifically chosen this dress because it fell below your knees, resembling old fashioned dresses that the women around Bucky might have worn.

This one might be too modern, now that you think about it.

With another quick gander at the large clock on the fancy restaurant's far silver wall, you sigh.

Bucky is thirty minutes late.

Forty minutes late.

Fifty.

An hour.

“I’m so sorry, miss but we really do need the table.” A kind waiter, his face twisted with pity for you as he pushes you to get up and out the door.

“Right.” You sigh, reaching for your wine glass to empty the contents.

You offer him your credit card and a few moments later he's back with a pen for you to sign with. You quickly scribble your name, then toss the pen on the table before getting up and moving back out into the chilly February night air.

The sting of the cold clears your head of the buzz you'd gotten from the wine and you realize that even as an adult, Valentine’s Day is still shit.

“Fuck me.” You sigh then turn to the right to head back towards the tower.

Bucky races along the grimy pavement of the sidewalk as he tries to adjust his tie, slipping it over his head as he pulls it tight.

He turns the corner and almost crashes into an older couple who startle, the woman grabbing her throat in shock.

Bucky manages to slow down before he can crash but since he's unwilling to stop for anything, he spins to his left, avoiding the couple and continues his run.

He looks back at them apologetically, his blue eyes pouring frantic energy. “Sorry.”

He quickly folds the collar of his white dress shirt down over his dark gray tie. As he slows to a walk, approaching the golden doors of the restaurant he'd begged Tony to help him get reservations for last minute, he pulls his silver-gray jacket tight, buttoning it closed before he moves inside, hoping he looks calm and collected but ready to apologize for being so late.

He moves towards the host's podium, meanwhile glancing into the busy restaurant, looking for your pretty face.

“How can I help you, er…sir?” The host asks.

Bucky can see that his metal arm has drawn his attention, but he's passed caring about scaring the civilians. All he cares about is that he doesn’t see you anywhere.

His heart gives a painful lurch. Maybe you’re just in the bathroom?

“Uh, yeah, reservation for two? Under Barnes. My girlfriend should already be here. I'm…really late.” He states, focusing on the young blonde man, hoping not to be judged.

The host looks down at his computer screen then with a frown looks back up at Bucky with a look of apology that sends shards of ice into Bucky's heart.

“I’m sorry, sir, we needed the table and the young lady could not wait any longer.” He explains.

Bucky looks back into the restaurant at the mass of celebrating couples. You'd sat in that, alone, for an hour?

“Thanks.” Bucky says weakly then moves back outside into the cold night.

He reaches up and loosens his tie a bit, hating himself for being late.

After all the fuss he'd made to plan this for you, keeping himself busy for hours yesterday when he could have been wrapped up in bed with you, he'd fucked it up. “Fuck.”

He struggles with his guilt, the fear that this might have hurt you enough to pull you away from him. He was always afraid you’d realize you could do much better and leave him.

Had he proven his own point tonight? Had he finally, after trying so hard to deserve you, pushed you away?

No. This can’t be the end. He reaches up and runs his hand through his hair, pulling his bun loose as he grips his locks in frustration.

He hadn’t seen you on the way here which means that you probably went home the long way? He might still be able to catch up to you!

He might not be able to salvage the date but maybe he can beg you for forgiveness. After all your issues with Valentine’s Day, he'd just gone and added his name to the list of disappointments associated with the day.

This can’t be how you remember this Valentine’s Day. He won't allow it.

He breaks back into a run, moving to the right and following what he hopes is the way you’d gone.

Sometimes, the hardest thing to accept is that life isn’t perfect. Life is made up of random chaos. Sometimes things go as planned and sometimes you’re Y/N and nothing ever goes right.

You shouldn’t be surprised. Your last anniversary Bucky had been on mission. Christmas? On mission. New Year's? Still on mission.

What made you think that today could be any different?

Bucky had made such a fuss about today yesterday that you'd expected things to finally go right. You know it's not possible though and tonight proves it.

There are some people, like yourself, who just have to accept that life will never play out like the perfect story. Instead, you should be glad that you have a loving, affectionate, and considerate boyfriend—punctuality problems aside—and appreciate the small moments.

You're suddenly startled as a large bulky, beefy figure in a silver suit moves around you and blocks your path.

It takes you a moment to realize that the hot dude in front of you us Bucky because you’ve never seen him dressed up like this.

Not to mention his hair is all over the place and his chest is heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

You stare at him in awe for a moment before you slowly cross your arms across your chest and give him a small involuntary frown.

His own steel blue eyes bore into your own. You can already see the agony of guilt in his eyes as he hunches over, hands on his knees, to try and catch his breath.

It takes him a minute but as he straightens up, he scans you from feet to head. He drinks you up, enjoying the sight of you in your dress, despite the tension in your body.

“Wow,” He whispers as he straightens up fully, his hands finding his waist. “You look amazing.”

You say nothing and his eyes find your once again. He quickly slaps his hands together and moves to close some of the distance between you as he renews his apologetic stare.

“Y/N…” He begins.

“This wasn’t my idea, Bucky.” You point out.

You hadn’t asked him for a night out. You'd accepted your fate of never having a perfect Valentine’s Day. Now you're here, slightly heartbroken and basking in disappointment.

“I know. I know. I am so sorry, Sugar, I didn't…Steve got caught up saving some lady from a overturned car and I-" He begins to explain, you knew it had to be something like this so being upset with him is almost cruel.

“Okay, okay. Jeez, I can’t even be mad at you. Don’t worry about it, Bucky. I had already told you that today isn’t important.” You relax your shoulders, giving in to the forgiveness he already has from you.

How can you be mad at him for being late if he's saving people? You can't. And it kinda sucks because you wanna be at least a little angry but it's not fair to him so you sigh heavily instead.

“It is important, Y/N, and I’m sorry I-I stood you up.” He sighs too.

You can see the hate in his eyes for what he's done.

“This day means something, not just because it's Valentine’s Day but because I love you and I wanted to show you that sometimes it can be good. You don’t have to keep pretending that you aren’t excited or that you don’t want to be taken out.

“You deserve to be adored and Cherished, by me preferably.” You chuckle at his words. “And I’m sorry I failed. I…I was going to buy you some flowers, but all the stores were closed.”

“It is a little late.” You acknowledge. “But really, Bucky, I don’t care. Today is just-it's Thursday. No harm no foul.”

He frowns and you worry that maybe he can see you’re lying.

“If today isn’t important, why do you look so edible?” He demands, reaching out to place his hands on your waist.

You bite your bottom lip and shrug. “I saw this dress and thought you’d like it. I wanted to look nice for you.”

“Well nice is an understatement. You look beautiful. I um…I planned a few more things though we might be late for them, do you want to go check?” He leans down, trying to look onto your eyes.

You grimace, thinking about how late it is, the cold and shake your head.

“Would you hate me if we just went home?” You ask, feeling bad for skipping on his planned might but you’re already feeling down.

“Of course not!” Bucky exclaims. “I will, from this day forward do whatever makes you happy. You are my world, Y/N and I’m really, really sorry that I ruined tonight.”

“But you made that woman's night. The one you helped save. Really, babe, I’m fine. I’m just tired.” You give him a smile, feeling slightly better knowing you’ll be on your way to your warm and comfy bed soon.

Bucky closes more of the distance between you, places his hands on the sides of your face and gently caresses your cheeks with his thumbs.

“You are perfection.” He gushes.

You laugh, uncomfortable with that title. “Yeah, right.”

“I mean it, Y/N. There is no one in the world that I would rather be with than you. You make me feel whole and like I have a reason to keep going. You’re my light. My purpose.” He looks down at his feet then back up into your eyes.

He kisses you, softly and sweetly before pulling back a bit. He lowers himself down onto one knee and though your breath seems to catch, your heart begins to race, and butterflies the size of eagles flutter in your stomach, your defenses come up. Just like they always did in junior high and high school.

“Proposing on Valentine’s Day…how original.” You scoff, but fully intending to say yes!

Bucky looks up at you startled, his blue eyes wide as he processes what you just said.

“I'm…Y/N…I’m not proposing.”

Your excitement is quickly snuffed as you look down and find him with the laces of his left shoe in hand.

You feel volcanic heat fill your face, neck, ears, your entire body is one large mass of life scarring embarrassment as you realize that no, Bucky is not asking you to marry him. He's trying his fucking shoe!

You force a laugh, trying hard to ignore the ache in your chest at the awkwardness now lingering between you.

“Of course not!” You laugh again. “You’re tying your shoe. I knew that. I was just joking. Wanted to see the panic on your face.”

You move around him, still chuckling forcefully as you make your steps quick to get away from this stupid night as fast as possible.

“Y/N, wait.” Bucky says, quickly tying his she the scurrying to catch up with you.

“Did you really think I was pro-"

“No, silly! I told you, I just wanted to see you panic.” You laugh again. “You shoulda seen your face.”

“Silly?” Bucky repeats the strange word.

You have never called him silly.

Quickly you wrap your arms around yourself, visibly shivering from not only the cold of the brisk night but sheer embarrassment.

“You’re cold.” Bucky realizes and quickly removes his jacket before laying it over your shoulders.

“Thanks.” You say, too cheerful.

Bucky wraps his left arm around your shoulders and holds you close against his side. You have to fight with every fiber of your being to keep from burying your face into his chest to hide from the shame you feel.

Dinner was a bust and no, Bucky doesn’t want to marry you.

The tower is empty. You figure that with almost everyone coupled up now, they'd all be eager to celebrate the holiday.

You make your way to your room, a little relieved that there isn’t an audience to your shame. Your embarrassment seems to be sticking with you and you keep wondering if Bucky is still thinking about your confusion about him proposing like you are.

You really hope he isn’t.

You move into your bedroom, throw your clutch into the small table by the door and reach up to pull off your earrings.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. lights.” You mumble.

The lights dim in slowly as you move towards your bed and settle yourself on the end. You place your earrings on the mattress then kick off your black shoes.

The doorway stands empty. Bucky hadn't followed you in.

You'd at least been hoping for a cuddle but maybe it was better this way? Without him around you can let yourself feel the disappointment you’ve been fighting all night.

Your lips curve down at the corners as you move to shut the door. With nothing better to do, you decide to wash the city off.

You strip quickly, carefully hanging your dress before staring at your reflection in your full body mirror in the bathroom.

The light pink lace romper, almost see through from how thin the fabric is, would have hopefully delighted Bucky had the night gone differently and he'd been able to undress you himself.

As it is, you frown at your reflection, the clear hope this lingerie represents that this Valentine's Day might have been different makes you ashamed again.

You reach back and pull the ribbon free and step out of your glorified underwear, letting it puddle around your feet before you move into the shower.

The water is soothing, and the room quickly fills up with steam as you let the scalding heat wash away as much of the day as possible.

Reaching forward you place both hands on the shower wall, lean your head forward, and let the hot water smooth your tense shoulder muscles.

You’re not sure how long you stand like that in your shower. You shut your eyes and let the world fall away, urging yourself to let it all go. Today isn't important.

“Y/N?” Bucky's voice floats in from the doorway and a quick glance at the swirling steam tells you he's come in.

You watch his dark silhouette move towards your abandoned lingerie and watch him lift it up to look at, holding it by the thin shoulder straps.

He swallows hard then folds it and places it on the bathroom counter before looking towards you in the shower.

“Y/N?” He asks, unsure.

“Yeah?” You sigh, keeping your head ducked.

He doesn’t say anything again. For a moment you think that maybe he left, seeing as you’re not in the best mood.

Then you feel the heat from his body behind you, somehow hotter than the water falling on you.

He walks up behind you, pressing himself into you until there’s no room left between you. His hands flow smoothly along your arms until they reach your hands where he intertwines his fingers with your own.

He pulls your arms away from the wall and wraps you in his tight embrace, leaning down to kiss the crook of your neck.

As disappointed as you are about today, the fact is, Bucky has been gone for a while. Last night had been a bust and this is the first time you’ve been naked with him in weeks!

Unable to stand it, you turn yourself around, twirling under his arms to face him. He wastes no time in reading your body language. He pushes you back, pinning you against the wall as he hikes up your left leg to wrap it around his waist as he dips down so that his hard shaft prods tantalizingly against your sex.

You gasp, yearning for him more than you thought you could given the night's events.

His mouth finds your left breast, his tongue playing circles around your hardening nipple before he takes it completely into his mouth.

You moan, unable to help yourself as he continues to rock his hips, rubbing himself against you with penetrating. The hard dome of his rod slips from the center of your slippery wet lips to poke sensuously at your small nub making you twitch.

“Ooh, Bucky…” You sigh.

He pulls back suddenly, your hands and arms desperately trying to hold him in place as he pulls back and towards the shower door.

“Two seconds, babydoll.” He insists before vanishing into the steam.

“Bucky!” You cry after him, hating him for leaving you all revved up for the second time in two days.

You growl, turn around and lean your forehead against the cool tile wall. You run your right hand down along your stomach, sighing with anticipation as you think about Bucky buried deep within you.

You shut your eyes, letting your fingers find your nub. As you press on it, you twitch and gasp, wishing it was Bucky's hand making you squirm.

“Y/N?” Bucky asks from behind you.

You turn yourself around, your hand still held against your core. Your intent is to jump Bucky as soon as you spot him however this plan is quickly scrapped as you find Bucky down on one knee, butt naked, looking nervous.

You move your hand, stand up straighter, and feel the renewed butterflies in your stomach. Your heart aches, wanting to get excited but unwilling to allow it after what happened earlier.

“What are you doing?” You ask him, staring down at his hands, gathered together casually by his right thigh.

“I’ve got champagne waiting by your bed, which I covered in rose petals, and there's soft music playing and chocolate strawberries waiting for you in the bedroom. There’s also a big stuffed bear, like, almost as big as you and a black box with a diamond necklace, that one you kept looking at when we went shopping last month.

“I know I seriously fucked up the date. I’d spent so much time planning it and then it all went to shit, and I was actually supposed to do this at dinner. Seeing as that was a bust, I was gonna do it here, well out there in all the romance in your bedroom, but I have never loved you more than I love you in this moment.

“You can somehow look at me, as I am, scarred and broken and still want me. Even after I ruined the night which I know is a lot more important to you than you let on, you're still not pushing me away. Even after I ruined whatever you had planned with that pink lingerie you were clearly wearing under your dress, you still don’t punish me. Though, if I’m honest, the fact that I didn’t get to see you in it is punishment enough.

“I love you and it's officially midnight so, no longer Valentine's Day. Since you thought that was cheesy, I decided to wait out the clock. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Y/N. So, will you marry me?”

Bucky brings his hands up, holding gently by the delicate band a sparkling solitaire diamond resting on a platinum band.

Your eyes scan the ring briefly before you find his eyes again.

“Bucky, we're naked. And in a shower.” You point out.

You'd just been touching yourself, thinking about him, imagining him doing things to you that would make even the most free-loving of people blush. It's so indecent and unexpected.

“Yeah.” Bucky agrees. “Whaddya say, Sugar? Will you be my wife?”

You can see the fear of rejection in his eyes and how he think you could possibly say anything but yes us beyond you.

“Of course, I’ll marry you, Bucky. Yes!” You laugh at the ridiculousness of the moment but eagerly hold out your left hand as he rises and watch him slip the stunning ring onto your finger.

“You’re mine, babydoll, forever.” He brags then pins you against the wall again, this time without hesitation as he finally buries himself within you.

And while Bucky gives you the fucking of your life, you can’t help but glance at your ring, ecstatic that finally one Valentine's Day will outshine all the rest, wiping them away with the promise of many more with Bucky by your side.

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[maid-of-mourne-shore]

5 Ways to Say it - Bucky x Reader

This is my entry for @moonstruckhargrove‘s writing challenge! 

Scenario: Secret admirer

Summary: Where the reader finds four ways to tell Bucky her feelings, and Bucky finds one.

Warnings: None!

Please check out my Master list if you like this and want more!

February 10th - Red roses

Back in the day, James Buchanan Barnes was quite the ladies' man. This wasn’t groundbreaking news, but even in the 30s and 40s, he was typically the one giving the gifts, the flowers, the chocolates. Sure, times had changed, but he wasn’t that man anymore, and though he had been on a few dates here and there, life with the Avengers hadn’t exactly given him the kind of time he used to have for a social life. So, when Bucky walked out the kitchen that morning and found a vase of twelve, fresh cut, red roses addressed to one James Buchanan Barnes, he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.  

On top of this, Bucky was unsure of how to talk to women he found attractive anymore, let alone date them, he was out of practice to say the least. So, he had put his focus elsewhere, first and foremost, relearning who Bucky was, finding peace with his past, and standing up to his demons, all of which wasn’t exactly first date material, nor was it something a lot of people wanted to assist with for the long haul. Bucky was a handful and he knew it, so sometimes it felt better just to brave it alone.  

He took the small note attached to it, turning it over in his hands, it was pink with tiny hearts lining the edge. Not exactly subtle, but he wasn’t here to dissect someone’s approach to attraction, as his tactic had simply been clear avoidance. There was no name, and no indication of who it came from as he didn’t recognize the handwriting. Perhaps, they were not as bold as he originally thought. He was still in shock that someone would send him flowers, who would do that? And why? Bucky sighed, placing the note down and getting on with his morning, shuffling over to the coffee maker, and pulling out his favorite mug from the cabinet.

It wasn’t long before people began to trickle in, each one remarking on the bouquet on display, asking about its origins, trying to solve the mystery.

“It’s official, Bucky has a secret admirer,” Natasha smirked, eyeing the roses.  

“This 100-year-old tin can does nothing but mope around, and he gets flowers?” Sam exasperates, gesturing to Bucky. “I don’t get women.”

“Some girls like the quiet kind,” Wanda says, giving a shy smile.

“Don’t worry, Buck. We’ll figure out who it is,” Steve gave him a winning grin, as he saw the dread on his best friend’s face. Bucky wanted to know who they were, but he was also terrified, having to face someone’s affections head on.  

February 11th - Favorite dessert

Bucky had always enjoyed working out, even before he became a soldier, it was something he could focus on, under his control, and sometimes it just felt good to hit something. Physicality was important to him, using it as a way to express himself, a medium to expel energy, this new chapter of his life with the Avengers only strengthening that, as he had to keep up his skills for combat, in peak condition to weather all sorts of conditions, and Bucky genuinely enjoyed that challenge.  

But Bucky also had a sweet tooth, a big, fat, sugar craving that could never be satiated, and everybody knew it. Steve was always on him about eating healthy, and treating food as fuel, though Bucky couldn’t care less. Under HYDRA, food wasn’t made to taste good, hell it was barely food at all most times, and there was certainly no dessert, Bucky felt that he was just making up for lost time. He often hid his snacks, so that he could escape a lecture from Steve, and so that other prying eyes wouldn’t help themselves. Though above all other treats, Bucky’s favorite was a good old fashioned, homemade chocolate cake. In his opinion, nothing compared to a perfectly moist inside, with icing that melts in your mouth, all fresh out of the oven. So, when Bucky finished his workout and came into the kitchen to grab a protein bar, and he smelled that famed dessert in the air, he couldn’t help but close his eyes and sniff.

There, on the counter top, was a chocolate cake, a tiny card beside it: ‘For James.’ His mouth dropped open.  

“Oo, I smell cake!” Tony sang as he rounded the corner, rubbing his hands together.  

“I’ll get the plates,” Sam added, running to the cabinet.  

“What’s all the commotion about?” Steve asked, looking around until his eyes fell on the current situation, sitting innocently on the counter. Of course, everyone would congregate with such convenient timing, Bucky thought.

“Buck, that’s not a good post-workout meal,” he sighed, Steve’s best ‘disappointed dad’ expression on his face.

Bucky looked around the room with wide eyes, all of them closing in with one, shared goal in mind: They were going to take his cake. Someone had gone to the effort of baking him a cake, timing it so it was still warm once he finished his workout, and my God he was going to enjoy every last bite. Bucky would kill them before he shared. In an instant, he grabbed the cake, made a mad dash for the elevator, before anyone could grasp what had happened. Bucky had downed the whole thing before the elevator doors opened to his floor.

February 12th - Being present

Ever since he had taken his mind back from HYDRA, Bucky had been working on himself. It was a fulltime job, and progress was not always linear. He had begun seeing a therapist who helped him sort through all the painful memories, building his confidence back up, and learning how to cope with his trauma. Steve reminded Bucky of who he was, and more importantly, helped him explore who Bucky had become. Everyone at the compound was more than happy to assist in the ways that they could, and even just having so many people around who cared about him was healing.  

But even now, he still had bad days, times where he was absolutely haunted by what he had done and what had been done to him. Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night, throat raw, drenched in sweat. Sometimes it would be a sound, a word, a trigger, causing an associated memory to take over. Other times he wasn’t even sure what it was, to pinpoint what had set him off, though he supposed he didn’t always need a reason, sometimes, it was just a bad day.  

Steve had been his go-to, always getting him through those moments, staying up and chatting when he couldn’t sleep, grounding him when he retreated into his mind, but tonight, Steve wasn’t here. It was a particularly bad one, the kind that left him shaking in his skin, one where Bucky couldn’t stand to stay still afterwards. He ventured out into the living room, flicking the TV on, more for the noise than the content. Bucky settled into the couch, letting his head roll back, taking a deep breath as he tried to remember some strategies his therapist has taught him.  

I can see the grey ceiling.

I can smell the leather couch.

I can hear footsteps.

Footsteps?

Bucky turned his head, looking for the source of noise when he saw (Y/N) stumbling across the hardwood floor, yawning as she went to the kitchen. Rummaging around the pantry, clearly unsure of what she wanted, (Y/N) stopped and turned her head to see Bucky’s slate blue eyes peering out from behind the top of the couch.  

“What are you doing, Bucky?” She drawled, slow steps bringing her towards the living room, a box of crackers in hand.  

“Can’t sleep,” he shrugged.

“What are we watching?”  

“Dunno.” Bucky handed her the remote as she plopped down beside him, scrolling through some options before deciding on a buddy cop film.  

They stayed in silence for a while, partially watching the movie, partially spacing out in their sleep deprived state, the only sound was the crunch of crackers in her mouth. (Y/N)’s presence was nice, he had always felt that way, especially once he had gotten to know her better. Professionally, she was serious, calculated, and a bit sarcastic, but when the uniform came off, (Y/N) turned into a bit of a goofball. It was endearing to see her like this, barely able to stay awake, head leaning dangerously to the side, when he had the image of her killing people with her bare hands in the field to contrast it with. Abruptly, she shook her head, blinking, once, twice, and then sitting back.  

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She kept her gaze forward, her words even, and tone easy, an effort to keep it casual.  

“No,” Bucky appreciated her concern, but it was too hard to think about his dreams again when he was getting his bearings back in the conscious world.  

“Okay,” (Y/N) gave him a small smile, eyes starting to droop again, her head falling back against the couch, and Bucky knew she wouldn’t last much longer.

“Hey, you don’t have to stay,” he mumbled, her eyelids fluttering open.  

“Do you want me to go?”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then I'll stay.”

February 13th – Cover me

Bucky awoke with a start, a bolt of energy zipping through him as he sat up in bed. No nightmare, no dream at all, so why the rush? His eyes drifted over to the cellphone charging on his night table, and it hit him.  

10:14am

Shit. The briefing started already.  

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck” Bucky hissed, jumping up from his bed, pulling on the first pair of pants he found. He shoved a hoodie over his head, slipped some shoes on, and he was out the door.  

Bucky scooted down the hallway and into the elevator, pulling his hair back and tying it back with an elastic that lived on his wrist for times like this. His foot tapped impatiently as it went through each of the floors before the doors opened at his destination. Once he found the closed door of the conference room, Bucky took a deep breath before pushing it open, ready to take the heat from Fury and the team for being so late, but when he stepped inside that wasn’t the response they gave him.  

“Oh, Barnes, didn’t expect to see you this morning.” Fury eyed him, and Bucky wasn’t sure if he was testing him or not.  

“Why not?” Bucky dared to ask.  

“(Y/N) said you were needed for emergency maintenance on your arm, some sort of mechanical malfunction.”

Bucky’s head whipped over to see her giving him a sheepish smile and the pieces came together. Oh, she had covered for him.  

“Yes...yeah, exactly. Uh, it was a quick fix, luckily,” Bucky nodded, opening and closing his fist for show.  

“Well, glad you could join us,” Fury concluded, looking back to everyone who was seated at the conference table.  

Bucky’s eyes fell back onto (Y/N) who now had a focused gaze to the front of the room, her cheeks a distant shade of pink, and he couldn’t help but notice that the seat next to her a was free, a file sitting on it. Bucky made his way over, and her head snapped up to look at him, hands grabbing the file and motioning for him to sit down. Bucky gave her a warm grin, sitting himself beside her, the folder addressed to him placed on the table, all of the briefing materials inside. She seemed to be doing her very best at ignoring his presence, leaning forwards on her arms, looking down the pages, and back up at Fury, her head staying completely parallel to Bucky’s and he had to wonder what all that was about.  

(Y/N) was a friend, even more so than some of the others, during these meetings they would often share knowing looks when Steve accidentally said something that had another meaning, which was quite often honestly. Once, they had even resorted to writing notes when Fury was reaming their asses for a careless mistake which had a turned the mission upside down. Regardless, Bucky was becoming antsy as the briefing was dry, and (Y/N) wasn’t giving him any attention.  

“Hey, (Y/N),” Bucky whispered, but she was steadfast in her goal to be a good girl.  

“(Y/N).” Still nothing.  

Bucky stuck out one vibranium finger and jabbed it in between her ribs, which caused the woman to let out a sharp hiss, squinted eyes looking over to find a smug grin on his face.  

“What?” (Y/N) quipped.  

“Hi.”

“Oh, for fuck-.”

“(Y/N), do you have something to add to the matter at hand?” Fury cocked a brow at the young woman, clearly asking a rhetorical question. She froze in her spot, resorting to a simple headshake to indicate her answer, before ducking to look at her papers again.  

Bucky felt bad, he really did, but he also couldn’t help but chuckle at her small misfortune. Fury liked her, in a day he would forget all about this little mishap and she would be back in his good graces, Bucky had no doubts about that. He watched her, the way she twiddled with her pen, chewing nervously on her lip, her eyes darting to catch his gaze before flipping back to Fury. Bucky reached his hand out, placing it on her thigh, thumb rubbing circles over the smooth fabric, her wide eyes questioning his actions as he mouthed ‘Sorry’. He hadn’t meant to get her so worked up, though unbeknownst to him, when it was Bucky, it didn’t take much.  

The meeting was adjourned and everyone rushed to get out. It’s not that they didn’t love their job, Bucky included, but getting down to brass tacks was never anyone's favorite part. Even goody two shoes Steve Rogers could be seen spacing out near the end of it, doodling on the back of his folder, much to Fury’s disapproval. Typically, Bucky would become restless fidgety after sitting for so long and take a trip down to the gym, but today his need to speak with a certain someone, was far more alluring. He swiveled his chair around only to find that his certain someone had disappeared. Bucky stood from his chair, finding that in his state of carelessness, everyone had left the room, his feet nearly tripping over each other as he bolted to find her.  

Thankfully (Y/N) wasn’t far, as he rounded the corner to the kitchen, Bucky could hear her sweet laughter ringing out, mingling with a low chuckle, her form coming into his vision along with Steve and Sam. Steve saw him and nodded, the other two turning their attention to him as well, Bucky waltzing to the fridge as if he had come in for something.  

“Hey, tin can. I was just telling (Y/N) about your secret admirer,” Sam snickered. Steve shot him a warning glance, but (Y/N)’s face dropped, her mouth clamped right up, eyes dropping to the floor.  

“Secret admirer?” Bucky questioned, closing the fridge, a bottle of Gatorade in hand.  

“Don’t play dumb!” Sam scoffed.  

“I don’t have a secret admirer,” Bucky stated, his free hand closing into a fist, and (Y/N) winced. Steve’s eyes traveled between the three of them, taking in their words and their reactions, his heartbeat raising as he began to piece the puzzle together.  

“Oh, so then how do you explain the flowers, and the cake?”

“Sam,” Steve started.  

“What?” Sam retorted.

“Just stop it!” Bucky growled, his slate blue eyes trained on (Y/N)’s pained expression, jumping at his harsh tone. The room went silent, Sam’s mouth hanging open, Steve’s brow knit together in worry, and Bucky breathing hard. Her eyes darted around, fingers pulling together, as she dashed out of the room, leaving the three at a loss for words.  

“(Y/N),” Bucky went to follow her, but Steve stopped him, giving him a knowing look.  

“Buck, I gotta tell you something.”

February 14th – In a different language

It was the day, Valentine’s day, the Hallmark holiday where one had to show their undying love and affection by purchasing halfdead flowers, and overpriced chocolates. Bucky felt like an idiot standing in that flower shop, surrounded by people, all buying the same, damn thing, all because they were told to. The man in front of him was barking on his cellphone about how it was such a pain, and how roses would most certainly be marked up for today, but if he didn’t get her flowers then he’d be left in the doghouse tonight. Bucky sucked his teeth at that comment, feeling sorry for the poor woman who would be receiving those roses later today, but could he really think of himself as better? Wasn’t Bucky about to do the same thing as everyone else here?  

“Next!” The attendant called, pulling Bucky’s attention.  

“Hi, I want to get something really special,” Bucky’s eyes pleaded, hoping that she would understand what he meant, the importance that this bundle of flowers would be carrying. “She deserves more than just roses.”

“Certainly,” she beamed back at him. “Let’s start with her name.”

“It’s (Y/N).”

“Alright, tell me about (Y/N).”

“Well, I could write a book,” Bucky chuckled, pushing some loose strands of hair back. “But I'll start with the basics. She’s beautiful, really beautiful, inside and out, and she’s always helping me, even when I don’t ask. She’s fierce, intelligent, damn good at her job, and a force to be reckoned with, but the worst part is, I'm just realizing all of this now.”

“Hmm,” the attendant quirked her brow, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she took in his words. “Ah! I’ve got it.”

She brought out a bouquet of flowers, a kind Bucky had never seen before, and she explained all of the different meanings to him, wrapped it up, and sent him on his way. Bucky was smiling ear to ear, despite the chilled weather and the falling snow, as his heart had never felt warmer, the conversation with Steve from the night before ringing in his ears.  

“What’s going on?” Bucky questioned. Steve had led him to his room, closing the door behind him, pacing around as if he was about to tell Bucky that he had been diagnosed with cancer. Steve stopped in his tracks and just stared at him.

“It’s (Y/N).” Steve answered.

“What’s (Y/N)?”

“Your secret admirer.” Bucky’s slate blue eyes widened as he took in Steve’s words, as incredulous as they were.  

“No, she’s not.” Bucky stated.  

Steve sighed, hands pulling across his face in frustration. “Yes, she is!”

“How do you know?”

“Buck, whatever just happened in the kitchen told me everything!”

“What do you mean?” Bucky mumbled, almost afraid of the answer.  

“When Sam told her about the secret admirer and you turned it down, she looked devastated. Now, why would that be?” Steve crossed his arms, waiting for the realization to set in. Bucky chewed his bottom lip, thinking of what had just transpired in the kitchen, the way her face had dropped at Bucky’s dismissal.

“It was her,” Bucky breathed.  

“Thank you,” Steve sighed, his head rolling back.  

“And I rejected her,” Bucky’s hand moved to comb through his hair, anxiety setting in.  

“Did you mean to?” Steve watched his friend's expression, still unsure of what Bucky wanted out of all of this.  

“No, God no! She’s amazing, she’s incredible, I just didn’t, I mean, I didn’t know that-.”

“You didn’t know it was her.”  

“Yeah.”

The compound was surprisingly quiet, though Bucky supposed that everyone was out spending their time with someone they loved, the silence only wrenching his heart further. Bucky worried that he had messed everything up, that (Y/N) thought Bucky didn’t want her, the pained expression, the creases on her forehead, the hurt in her eyes all came back as he squeezed the stems in his hand. No, he would apologize, make it right, and if she would have him, then he would gladly be hers. Bucky felt so blind, how he hadn’t seen it before, how he hadn’t seen her before; He always knew she was extraordinary, but it never crossed his mind that she would want him like that, that anyone would. It was his own self-conscious thoughts, constantly bearing down, reminding him of his past, of his altered and broken body, his bent and twisted mind, not (Y/N). No, she had never seen him that way.  

Bucky decided to freshen up in his room before asking FRIDAY where (Y/N) was, needing another minute to get his thoughts all in order before he could face her, but when he arrived, she was sitting on his bed. Opening the door, her head shot up to look at him, eyes wide, fingers twisting together on her lap, and Bucky nearly dropped the flowers. She launched herself up, clearing her throat, eyes falling back to the floor as she spoke.  

“Bucky, hi.”

“(Y/N), what are you doing here?” He questioned, stepping forward, placing the flowers down as he shrugged his heavy jacket off.  

“Um, I-I'm here to apologize to you,” she breathed, fingers running along her arm.  

“What for?”  

“F-for the gifts. It wasn’t fair of me to make it so public, I should’ve just done it in private so I wouldn’t have embarrassed you.”

“(Y/N)-.”

“Please, just let me say this and I'll be out of your hair,” she pleaded, eyes full of remorse that Bucky just couldn’t say no to her. He nodded, not trusting his voice.  

“Bucky, you’re an amazing friend. Whenever I'm around you, my heart feels full, like everything is going to be okay. I don’t know when, but somewhere along the way I fell in love with you. I know it’s difficult in our line of work to navigate workplace relationships, and it was so hard to get a read on your feelings so I decided to keep it to myself, but eventually I couldn’t stay quiet anymore. I had to know, even if you didn’t feel the same, but I've humiliated you, and for that, I'm so sorry.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper at the end, tears coming to her eyes that were cast down to the floor.

“Is it my turn now?” Bucky asked tentatively. She nodded. He took the bouquet from the bed, peeling back the paper to reveal the flowers inside.  

“I don’t know much about flowers, but these are carnations, and like roses, the different colors have different meanings,” his eyes were on her, taking in the change in her expression from sadness, to confusion, to hope.  

“The white means, ‘Sweet and lovely,’ which although I know you’re much more than that, it certainly captures the way I’ve come to think of you. The pink means, ‘I’ll never forget you,’ because no matter what happens, I wouldn’t, I couldn’t. And the red, um, apparently, they mean, ‘My heart aches for you,” Bucky cleared his throat at the confession.  

“Bucky, I thought,” she trailed off, fingers delicately grazing the edges of a crimson carnation.  

“I know,” Bucky sighed. “I know I messed up, but you have to believe me when I say I had no idea it was you,” his words were rushed, wanting to get it all out so she would understand.  

“And well, um, I didn’t actually realize that I felt this way until I knew that you did.” He bowed his head, checks filling with heat.  

“Thank you,” (Y/N) whispered, her hands cupping his jaw. Bucky sighed, leaning into her touch, his whole body relaxing into her. “No one’s ever bought me flowers before.”

“Really?” Bucky asked in disbelief.

“Our business doesn’t leave much time,” (Y/N) gave him a solemn smile.

“I’ll buy you as many flowers as you want,” he deadpanned, pushing the bouquet into her hands, causing a giggle to erupt from her chest.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s okay,” she cooed.  

“I’m serious,” Bucky pleaded. “And I'll find out what they all mean too, so I don’t give you any that say something rude.”

“Bucky.” He quirked his head. “I just want you.”

“You have me.”

Bucky let out a shaky exhale, a hand coming to rest on her hip, pulling her closer, his flesh hand holding her cheek, guiding her face to his. His actions were slow, almost hesitant, giving her plenty of time to pull away, but she melted into him, eyelids fluttering closed as their lips touched. It was sweet and innocent, gentle and nervous, the room gone completely silent, but soon the flowers were forgotten, hands, lips, and tongues making up for lost time as the air thickened. When a rough nip to her bottom lip let out a breathy moan, he finally pulled back, taking her in, the way her chest rose and fell, the distant look in her eyes, the heat coursing through his own body at the sight. (Y/N)’s head rolled to the side, eyes widening when she realized the poor bouquet had been dropped to the floor in the heat of the moment.  

“I’m sorry, Bucky!” (Y/N) scrambled to recover the flowers, smoothing the petals over with her fingers.  

“I’ll buy you more,” he shrugged.  

“That’s not the point.”

“What do you mean?”  

“This is my first bouquet,” she remarked. “I’m going to save it.”

Bucky’s lips curled up into a splitting grin, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to her cheek as she fretted over the slightly jumbled flowers. His hands covered hers, slowly pulling the bouquet from her as she watched him, perplexed when he placed it onto the bed once more.  

“Plenty of time for that later,” Bucky mumbled, guiding her into another sweet kiss, savoring just what he had been missing.  

#moonstruckhargrovevday #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barns x reader #reader insert #winter soldier

[jewels2876]

Too Sweet

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Reader, mentions of the usual Steve, Sam, and Natasha

Word Count: 1618

Warnings: FLUFFY FLUFF, a little language

A/N: This my entry for @moonstruckhargrove Valentine’s Day writing challenge - I snatched up the ‘candy hearts’ prompt because I love them! I’m also pretending that Infinity War had a happily ever after instead.

divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics​

Bucky spied the little piece of candy placed at the top of his dresser after he came in from his torturous morning run with Steve

·         URA QT

Bucky was baffled at the letters, even if they were printed off-center on this little heart thing. “U… R...seriously?” He couldn’t help the goofy grin that spread across his face. A knock sounded on his bedroom door. “Come in!”

Sam pushed open the door and leaned against the frame. “Nat sent me to drag you to breakfast. Whatcha got there?”

Bucky flashed him the orange heart. “Someone left me a candy heart. Man, I didn’t think they still made these things. I loved these when I was a kid.” He gazed down at the candy with affection.

Sam rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Wonder who that could be from? Could it be because it’s Valentine’s Day?”

Bucky rolled his own eyes and set the candy back down before joining Sam at the door and punching his shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. It’s cute.”

After the afternoon briefing Bucky threw himself into the loveseat in the common room and turned on the tv; his newest show to binge was Lucifer and he still had the whole third season to go. As he felt around for the remote his fingers brushed against something little and hard. He looked down to find another candy heart.

SMILE

Bucky felt a blush creep over his face before he complied; his ear-splitting grin was still evident when you came in and took your usual spot on the couch opposite Bucky. “What are you grinning at, dork?”

Bucky stuck his tongue out. “I found another one of these earlier.” He held out the heart and you grinned. “Someone leaving you some sweet treats there Buck?”

“Or just losing their stash.” He pondered the idea of someone purposefully leaving the hearts for him and he started to wonder who on the team would be that shy. No one immediately sprang to mind. You watched Bucky from the corner of your eye and had to suppress a chuckle.

You had joined the team just after Thanos’ defeat, when Jane had traced new weather phenomenon in Ohio and found your hometown in the eye of it. Thor and Jane both had tested you and your powers; you were eager to prove your worth to the rest of the group as soon as possible. Sam and Steve had been your first guinea pigs much to your amusement.

After Bucky had returned from Wakanda, he had kept to himself, largely to avoid any run-ins with Tony. Most of the team had kept their interactions around Bucky friendly, but brief, except you. You asked him about his life before World War II and he always seemed willing to indulge you with his stories. Sam and Steve loved to gang up on you, teasing you; Bucky had come to your aid on more than one occasion. He was sweet, kind, and he was definitely easy on the eyes. It was no wonder that you started developing a crush on Bucky, even though you had never mentioned it to a soul.

Bucky was halfway through the third season of Lucifer when FRIDAY interrupted. “Sergeant Barnes, Captain Rogers is asking you to join him in the gym please.” Bucky groaned, having a pretty good idea why Steve was looking for him. “Hey doll, wanna join us?”

You smirked. “Nope! I’m gonna switch over to Friends while you go work your butt off. But have fun without me!” You reached for the remote. Bucky grabbed your hand and pulled you against him. “But all the fun’s going to leave with me,” he muttered in your ear.

You felt your heartbeat race and a blush creep over your face. “Are you trying to flirt with me?” You pulled out of his grasp and stood up. “Fine, I’ll race ya. Ready. Set.”

“Go,” Bucky pushed off the couch in a mad dash. You laughed and shook your head as you slowly followed behind him. You volunteered to go to the gym, not work out, you reasoned. Bucky stood in the doorway of the gym, arms folded across his chest, as you finally approached. “Guess what doll?”

You groaned. “What?”

He pushed open the door and gestured for you to move ahead of him. “Chicken butt!” He cackled at his own joke. You rolled your eyes and giggled. Steve watched the two of you, suppressing his own laugh. “Barnes! Y/L/N! ‘Bout time!”

“Oh hell no!” You shook your head emphatically. “I simply enticed Bucky to come down; I did NOT agree to work out with you.”

Steve’s ear-splitting grin didn’t falter. “Too bad! Besides, you could use the gym time. I’ve seen you with all of that candy lately. Taking advantage of the Valentine’s Day sales?”

You huffed but didn’t meet Steve’s gaze.. “Fine. But I’m not punching anything.” You headed towards the locker room and changed into the leggings, t-shirt, and tennis shoes you kept on hand. You sauntered back into the gym and hopped on a treadmill, picking up a strong steady pace. Steve and Bucky slid into the boxing ring and slipped on their gloves.

“You ask her out yet?” Steve asked Bucky. Bucky blushed and hissed. “Dude, keep it down! And no.”

Steve looked behind him to see your head still facing forwards. He was pretty sure you weren’t paying them any attention. Bucky took advantage and connected his hit to Steve’s right shoulder. “Ha!”

Steve turned his attention back to Bucky and the two sparred; neither one expected to win, but both were glistening with sweat after 45 minutes or so. You had stopped your run after 30 and spent the rest of the time ogling both guys. Steve was definitely buff; his biceps were as big as your thighs you noted. But Bucky’s intense gaze was primal and intense, but those blue eyes still twinkled as he tried to frustrate Steve. “Just give up will ya?” Bucky finally whined.

Steve grimaced and took one more swing, but couldn’t connect with any part of Bucky. You ran to the bell and drummed your fingernails against it. “I’m calling it!” Bucky aimed his grin at you as Steve swiped his arm across his forehead. “I’m headed to my room to clean up. You boys should do the same.” You pinched your nose with your thumb and index finger with a giggle. Before either one of them could comment you ran off.

Bucky and Steve headed to the locker room to clean up; Steve jumped in the shower while Bucky dried off his face with a towel. “Hey Buck, can I use your shampoo?” Steve yelled from the shower stall.

“Hold on!” Bucky jogged over to his locker. He reached on the shelf for his shampoo when he found another candy heart.

KISS ME

Bucky studied the heart as his metal hand pulled out the shampoo. “Here ya go,” he announced to Steve who pushed back the shower curtain to take the shampoo. Steve noticed Bucky’s gaze and saw the candy heart. “Got a sweetheart I don’t know about, Buck?”

Bucky flashed a grin at Steve. “”Bout to.”

You were just pulling up your sleep shorts when you heard the knock on your bedroom door. “Come in,” you yelled. The door opened and Bucky again stood in the doorframe. His hands were behind his back and you were immediately suspicious. “Have something for me? Will it require a second shower?”

Bucky grinned; it reminded you of a cat that cornered a mouse. Reflexively you took a step back. “Come on doll,” he cooed. “Why would I do that to you when you’ve been so sweet to me?”

You stopped mid-step back and carefully kept your face neutral. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What’s behind your back?” You tried to see around Bucky but he turned keeping his back to you.

“Steve mentioned you’ve been on a candy kick, so I wanted to bring you these,” he pulled out his metal hand to reveal a bag of peanut butter M&M’s, one of your favorites. You grabbed the bag from him, not paying any notice his other hand was still behind his back. “Thank you!”

“Wait,” Bucky put his metal hand on yours, to keep you from opening the bag. “I brought you something else too. Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

Your gaze swept across his face, looking for any signs of trickery. He seemed calm and relaxed so you smiled softly, closed your eyes and held out both hands as requested. You felt his fingers softly graze your palms and shuddered. He watched as the corners of your mouth turned up and the goosebumps raise across your bare arms. “Open your eyes,” he whispered.

You looked down at your hands and blushed.

KISS ME

URA QT

BE MINE

“When did you figure it out?” You glanced up at his face; the giggle you tried to hold back came out as a snort and he laughed at you. “The gym,” was his simple answer.

You took the “URA QT” heart and popped the sweet in your mouth. You moaned and Bucky’s eyes darkened just a fraction. You took the remaining two hearts, one in each hand and weighed them, humming for a second. “Which one…”

Bucky answered your unasked question by pressing his lips softly against yours. He groaned and you smiled as he slowly pulled out of the kiss. “Well, I guess that answers both…” He stopped you again with another kiss, slightly harder and teasing. You hummed and kissed him back. You didn’t really need to answer him now, did you?

Tag list: @starksmile @lokiandbuckyaremine @ticklikeabomb @thenormreedus @woodworthti666 @greenarrowhead @lovely-dreamer19 @moonbeambucky @yafriendlyfangirl @lilyrosebae @after-avenging-hours  @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @marvelc00kie35 @thejemersoninferno @lionheo04 @bitsandbobsandstuff  @dewy-biitch @readitandweepfics @lokilvrr @lostinthoughtsandfeelings-blog @theimpossibleg1rl @princess-evans-addict @stuckyfox @sarahivi @4theluvofall @loricameback @moondancewrites @halcyonrogers @writing-for-a-chance @ruckystarnes @angryschnauzerwrites @221bshrlocked @suz-123 @senorita-stucky @devilbat @jpat82 @caramell0w @spookyscaryskeletonsus @theoneanna @lilybellsworld @inlovewith3 @mrs-captain-evans @xxloki81xx @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @crazybutconfidentaf @patzammit

#moonstruckhargrovevday #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky #bucky fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #fluffy #bucky fluff #fluff

[staticscreenwriting]

Heaven can wait - Billy Hargrove

Synopsis: Love letters, mothers, valentine’s day aaaand everyone’s favorite song to sing along to when drunk and emotional. 

A/N: I wrote this for @moonstruckhargrove ‘s Valentine’s Day writing challenge. I had the “love letter” prompt. What I only realized when I was done though, was that I mostly ignore the “it has to be centered around Valentine’s Day” rule. Vday is mentioned so I hope this still counts. Enjoy.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Heaven can wait we're only watching the skies. Hoping for the best, but expecting the worst.  

February fucking sucks. That’s the underlying truth of it all. It’s grey and dark and cold and miserable. Christmas has come and gone and the novelty of snow has worn off by the time January 12th rolls around.

Hawkins Indiana might look like a scene straight from some cheesy Hallmark greeting card but it sure doesn’t feel like it.

(Y/N) pulls her coat tighter around herself as she steps out of Hawkins High and into the harsh winter wind. The sound of crunching snow beneath her boots that brought her joy just a month earlier, now only serves to remind her that summer is so many months away.

To say she’s sick of it might just be the understatement of the century.

There’s a great bustling of people on the school grounds. They’re hanging up banners and bows and hearts made of paper and entirely too much glitter glue. It’s like middle school but worse. Because back in middle school, Valentine’s day was this cutesy tradition that was over the top cheesy and ridiculous but in the end it was just for shits and giggles anyway.

High School is a whole different story. Valentine’s Day is serious business at Hawkins High. Various committees had formed and organized all kinds of things for the big day. You can buy chocolates for your crush and have it sent to them in class. They set up a wall that students can pin their teenage love confessions to. They even organized a fucking dance for the night of Valentine’s Day.

And now it’s not like (Y/N) hates the day or the couples or the shameless commercialization of love. It’s just — a lot.

Additionally, it makes her aware just how awfully single she is and how the one guy she truly wants really only sees her as a friend. And you don’t date friends.

There’s countless movies where the main characters start out as best friends then fall in love and then live happily ever after. But that’s not reality is it ? (Y/N) parents started out as the best of friends then fell in love somewhere along the line. They got married in spring, had little (Y/N) then lived and loved until their friendship was sucked into the big black void of everyday life. Now dad lives in a bachelor pad in some high rise in Indianapolis and fucks his secretary and mom takes antidepressants as if they were tic-tacs.

They don’t show that in the movies, do they ?

So actually ever confessing her feelings for her best friend is an absolute no-go.

Speak of the devil.

Billy is leaning against his car looking like a young god, unbothered by the perpetual teenage disillusion with the future.

Like the world is his and he knows it.

“ You’re gonna get hypothermia one of these days ? “ (Y/N) approaches him and points towards his half-unbuttoned shirt.

Billy might just be the most stubborn person (Y/N) knows. He simply refuses to buy winter clothes. “ I’m not gonna stay here anyway “ is what he always says and sure, that might be the case, but he’s here now and he’s freezing his ass off. Yet he’d rather freeze than admit it and cave and buy himself a freaking winter coat.

“ I have a great immune system “ Billy replies, a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips.

A smirk that makes (Y/N)’s heart beat just a little faster.

“ Oh do you ? That why you been sneezing all day ? “

“ Shut up “ Billy replies then takes a last drag from his cigarette and throws it to the ground.

“ You got somewhere to be today ? “ He asks (Y/N), eyebrows furrowed. There’s a certain edge to his voice that immediately tells her that something is wrong. There’s something on his mind he wants to talk about. Something weighing on his shoulders.

“ Nope. Why ? “

He just nods towards the Camaro and mumbles a “ get in “ before opening his car door and slumping down on the driver’s seat.

So it’s one of those days. Where he doesn’t talk, at least not yet. (Y/N)’s learned that asking questions just makes him talk even less. He will open up, eventually. It’s just that opening up feels like admitting defeat to him. Feels like showing weakness.

It’s not and (Y/N) is trying her best to make sure he knows this. That he can allow himself to be vulnerable with her of all people. Because despite it all, she’s his best friend.

The drive is mostly silent except for the sound of Billy’s beloved Metallica tape playing through the car radio. He looks tense. His hands are gripping the steering wheel tightly and there’s a serious look on his face. It makes (Y/N) nervous. Makes her fear that a Goodbye is closer than expected. That maybe his dad is taking him away again. Somewhere else. Somewhere new. She knows there’s an end to their friendship eventually. An expiry date. All he wants is to go back to California and though she’s his best friend, (Y/N) doesn’t think she’s worth enough to make him stay. Or at least wait. To wait until she’s figured out which way to go after graduation. To see if maybe her path could lead her west. Could lead he towards California. Towards the sun. Towards the beach. Towards Billy.

Now that idea doesn’t sound all that bad to her. But would he even want her to come ?

Billy parks the car at the edge of the quarry. It’s kind of their place. Unofficially of course. But they come here whenever they need to vent. Whenever things get too bad. Whenever Neil adds another bruise to Billy’s skin. Whenever things at (Y/N)’s home feel like suffocating her.

“ Sooo … “ (Y/N) speaks up after a moment.

“ I gotta show you something “  

“ Okay ? “

For a moment Billy fumbles around in the pocket of his leather jacket, before he pulls out a very crumpled piece of paper.

“ So uh — Neil thought it was time to get rid of some of mom’s things that we still had and, you know him. Asshole didn’t wanna deal with any of it so he put all the boxes into my room. Most of it was clothes and shit that I don’t want to keep either but as I went through a box of records she left with us, I found a bunch of letters “ Billy starts to explain. His voice is laced with emotion. There’s anger and sadness and utter confusion.

It’s always hard for him to talk about his mother. When they started to become friends, (Y/N) has honestly thought she was dead, the way Billy didn’t talk about her at all. Just mentioned his mom every once in a while. It took one of Carol’s parties and a bottle of Tequila for him to come clean about the fact that his mom didn’t die, she left.

Every once in a while, when he has a really good or a really bad day, he tells (Y/N) little snippets of what his life used to be like. Back before his mom left. When he still had a proper family. And every time (Y/N) can tell just how hard it still weights on his heart.

“ Letters ? “

“ Mm-mh. Letters from my mom to a man. Some dude named Michael. Letters she never sent. Fucking love letters. “

There was never a doubt in (Y/N)’s mind, that Billy adores his mother. Not the woman who left but the one he got to know before. Whenever he talks about her it’s with love and fond memories. He seems different now though. Unsure if he really properly knew his mother to begin with.

“ She talks about how much she loves him. How she wishes she could be there with him. She mentions me too. Says I’m too young to understand. Too young to do it by myself. Fucking hell she was unhappy even when I was just a baby. I — I thought that things used to be good at one point but apparently it was shit from the start. “

(Y/N) honestly doesn’t know what to say. She wants to hold him and tell him that his mother doesn’t know the person she decided to leave behind. That it’s her loss. That she is never going to see the wonderful boy he grew up to be. The one that means so much to (Y/N). The one she loves so dearly.

Only friends don’t say that, do they ?

“ There’s tons of letters. The first one goes all the way back to when I was just 2 months old. Last one was written just days before she left. I — I wonder if she went there. I wonder if she had enough and decided she wanted to be with this guy. I wonder when she decided I was old enough to leave behind. “

He’s caught somewhere between pure rage and utter sadness. It takes over his mind like a tidal wave. Like suddenly everything he ever thought he knew is full on bullshit. His head is filled with so many what-ifs. All his happy childhood memories, where they really all that happy if his mom wished she could’ve been somewhere else ?

“ You think she might be there ? “ (Y/N) asks, wondering if she should be saying anything at all.

“ I was asking myself that question too. She must’ve gone there, right ? In all these letters she keeps talking about how all she wants is to be with this dude. It only makes sense, right ? “

“ Right. “

(Y/N) carefully considers the next words. She’s about to propose an idea that could potentially change everything. Good or bad.

But maybe some things are worth it.

“ Do you wanna go ? “

“ Go where ? “

“ Go see her in — “ (Y/N) takes the letter from his hand and reads the address out loud “ Pensacola Florida “

Billy combs his fingers through his blonde locks and lets out a sigh. “ That’s like a 10 hour drive. And for what ? “

“ Closure ? “

There’s a million different ways this could go and they’re all flashing in front of Billy’s eyes at that moment. He’s been thinking about this moment ever since his mom left and now that he finally has an idea of where she might be, he’s terrified.

“ Would you come ? “ he asks it almost timidly. As if there’s any chance she’s gonna say no. As if she wouldn’t follow him to the end of the earth and further.

“ Billy, you’re my best friend I’d come anywhere you want me to “

“ Yeah, yeah. You’re are. “ And for a moment he hesitates as if he wants to say so much more. Only he doesn’t dare speak those words.

“ So, Florida ? “

Billy takes her hand in his and squeezes it for a moment. His hands are warm and rough and (Y/N) wonders what they’d feel like touching other parts of her body. Then she scolds herself for it because friends don’t think stuff like that. Do they ?

“ Florida! “

- OOO -

The camaro is filled with the smell of cream soda and beef jerky. But really, that’s the smell of a good road trip.

Before they embarked on their epic adventure, Billy insisted they stock up on all the snacks and drinks anyone could ever consume on a 10 hour drive.

The radio is playing softly in the background as the two teens laugh and bicker about god and the world.

Hearing Billy laugh, like actually genuinely laugh, is something (Y/N) thinks she’ll never get enough of. He’s got the most radiant smile, the most infectious laugh. It’s a downright shame the world doesn’t give him more reasons to do it. And if we’re being real honest here, (Y/N) takes a little pride in being the one that can get the laughs and smiles from him.

“ So what did you tell your parents ? “ Billy asks then follows it up with a “ Twizzler please “

(Y/N) pulls a twizzler out of the package and holds it out towards Billy’s mouth, basically feeding the sweet treat to him.

“ Ah you know, It’s my weekend with dad so mom thinks I’m there. Dad thinks I’m at the Valentine’s Day dance. It’s no big deal, really “

“ Sorry about that by the way “ Billy mumbles around the bit of his Twizzler.

“ ‘bout what ? “

“ Making you miss the dance. “

(Y/N) scoffs. As is she was gonna go to the dance anyway. Going to prom with your friends was one thing but going to a Valentine’s Day dance by yourself was just sad.

“ Oh yeah because being single at the Valentine’s Day dance is totally something I was looking forward to. “

“ Ah, I’m sure you could’ve found some guy to take you. “

“ But it’s a Valentine’s Day dance, Billy. You don’t want some guy to take you. You want the guy. “

Billy raises his eyebrow in question before taking a sip from his cream soda.

“ So what’s the guy like then ? “ he asks.

You. (Y/N) thinks. But she knows that even if anything were to ever happen between them, Billy isn’t the type of guy to shoq up to school dances. He’s not one for big dramatic gestures. He’s just Billy. And that’s enough.

And anyway, a road trip to Florida fueled by cream soda and twizzlers sounds way more exciting than some school dance anyway.

“ Billy Idol “

“ What ? Really ? “

“ Oh yeah. He’s hot, he makes great music and he’s got the whole bad boy thing going for him”.

Billy shakes his head in disbelief though (Y/N) can just make out the hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. Billy doesn’t smile a lot but when he does oh god it’s marvelous.

“ That all it takes ? Some bleached hair and a leather jacket ? “

“ And really tight leather pants “

“ Of course, can’t forget those “.

A silence settles upon the two. Thick with words unspoken. By now the snow has vanished from the surroundings and (Y/N) can’t help but feel somehow liberated.

Like she’s escaped the winter and the cold and the miserable truth that with the actual spring comes their graduation and with that the end of her time with Billy. It’s like she gets the warmth and the sun and the joy without the heartbreak.

Maybe this is what they need, she thinks, one last adventure before the inevitably have to say goodbye.

“ Can we go to the beach ? “ (Y/N) asks, images flooding her head of burying her feet in the warm sand and forgetting about the grey cloud above her hometown for just a moment.

“ Yeah. Yeah we can “

(Y/N) takes another sip of her drink “ Can we also go to Disney World ?“

Billy doesn’t answer but he smiles. A full on smile. It doesn’t stretch upon his entire face but it’s big enough to earn itself the title of a proper smile. And that’s all she needs, really. This is better than any ride at any theme park could ever be.

- OOO -

The setting sun casts the sky in vibrant shades of pink and orange. It’s like a picture from a postcard and though (Y/N)’s seen many sunsets in her life, she knows this one is her favorite. There’s something magical about it.

They’re parked on the edge of a gas station parking lot. Being on the road for hours after a rather stressful day at school, they’re both exhausted and decided it’s best to rest for the night.

Billy is finishing a bag of beef jerky as (Y/N) switches through the different radio stations looking for something to listen to. Looking for a station that’s playing anything but the Flashdance soundtrack.

“ Let us die young or let us live forever

We don't have the power, but we never say never

Sitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip

The music's for the sad man”

“ Oh my god I love this song “ (Y/N) exclaims as the words to Forever Young echo through the Camaro.

“ I hate this song “

“ Oh come oooon now. It’s catchy. “

Billy only rolls his eyes “catchy doesn’t mean good”.

“ No but catchy means I get to sing along “

And she does. At the very top of her lungs. She belts out the words to the chorus like her life depends on it. There’s so much joy on her face though, that Billy can’t even be mad. In fact, he finds himself admiring her and her unwavering love for life. The way she just lets go and allows herself to be goofy and ridiculous. He wishes he could let go and just — be.

“ FOREEEEEVER YOUUUUUUNG I WANT TO BEEE FOREEEEEEVER YOUNG. Come on Billy. I know you want to sing along “.

“ I don’t sing. “

“ Nah. Bullshit. You’re just embarrassed. I bet you can’t sing “

“ Neither can you “

“ I know. So what ? It’s just us, right ? Just you and I. Who cares ? “

And really, who does care ? Maybe this trip was his awakening. Maybe he can let go when it is just the two of them. Him and (Y/N). (Y/N) who is honest but never judges him unfairly. Who lets him be the person he is. Always. Who never tries to change him. Not even the bad parts. Not even the really shitty parts he wants to change himself.

So he let’s go. For the first time in a long time. And not in the way of getting blackout drunk. But in letting himself be ridiculous. Be a dumb teenager singing along to a dumb song. He lets himself be goofy. Allows himself to be, well — young.

“ So many dreams swinging out of the blue. We let them come truuuue ! “

“ Hah ! I knew it! You even know the words !”

And when he catches the pure and unfiltered happiness in (Y/N)’s eyes and the huge smile spreading across her face, he thinks maybe this isn’t so bad. Maybe it’s worth it.

So he grabs her hand and their voices mix as the belt along to the chorus.

“ Forever young, I want to be forever young. Do you really want to live forever, forever and ever ? “

It’s like magic caught in moment. Like love caught inside a ‘79 Chevrolet Camaro. And Billy never wants it to end.

- OOO -

The outside world is only illuminated by the distant glow of the gas station’s neon signs as (Y/N) wakes up in the back of the Camaro. Billy had generously offered her the more comfortable sleeping space while he closed his eyes still sitting in the driver’s seat which, (Y/N) notices, is now deserted.

She spots him leaned against the front of the car, cigarette in hand. The magic from earlier is gone and has made room for all the anxiety of what’s to come once they reach their destination.

Slowly (Y/N) climbs out of the car and stands next to Billy.

“ You alright ? “

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just takes a drag and blows the cigarette smoke into the nightair.

“ I honestly have no fucking clue anymore “ Billy scoffs, letting his tongue wet his lips in unease.

(Y/N) notices a can of beer in the hand that isn’t holding onto the cigarette.

“ Have you been drinking ? No judgement or anything just if you did I can drive tomorrow morning “.

Billy shakes his head “ Nah. I uh — I thought it would help settle my nerves but it doesn’t. Only had a sip. I just — I’m terrified, (Y/N) “

It’s unusual for Billy to tell anyone how he feels so (Y/N) knows this is special. That this really means something. That this situation must weight so heavy on his heart.

“ I’ve been imagining this day for so long. Since the moment she left really. And now that it’s actually happening I don’t know how to feel. I have — I have no idea how to react when we find her. If we even find her. Who knows she might not even be there. Do I talk to her ? What do I tell her ? I don’t know anything anymore. I just — she’s my mom and she just left “

There’s a sniffle, then another one and another. And just like that Billy comes undone right in front of (Y/N). His face shows pure agony. Deep sadness. Absolute confusion. All at once. There’s anger and pain and heartache. If she could she’d take it all from him and live with his pain if it meant he never had to feel it again.

But she can’t.

So she does the one thing she can do. Show him she’s there with him every step of the way. The good, the bad and most of all the ugly.

She softly leans her head against Billy’s shoulder as he drops the cigarette stump into the can of beer gone stale by now. His arm finds its way around (Y/N)’s shoulder who promptly links her fingers with his.

Even with all the misery and heartache and angst, a little of the magic comes back suddenly. With soft touches and hearts filled with love for the other.

“ Florida is nice “ (Y/N) says as the both watch the sun slowly rising above the horizon.

“ California is better “ Billy replies “ You’d like it “.

“ You should show me one day. I uh — I applied to some colleges on the west coast so … “

Billy looks down towards the girl cuddled into his arms and it’s like a spark ignites deep inside his heart. And it sounds like some absolute pussy shit. Like something Harrington would probably write in one of his cheesy letters to the Wheeler girl. But it’s true.

No matter how much he tries to deny it, the future absolutely scares him. But a future with (Y/N) doesn’t sound so bad. It sounds comforting. It sounds like something he’d very much want.

“ Would you want to go ? “

“ To California ? “

Billy nods.

“ Yeah obviously “.

“ With me ? “

It’s (Y/N)’s turn to nod now. She wants to say so much. Mostly that she loves him and that she wants nothing more than to go about this life with him. But she doesn’t because some things mean too much to say them out loud, even if there’s nothing you’d rather do.

“ I’d like that too. Very much “ he tells her “ You’re pretty much the only person I don’t get sick of. And I — that’s pretty neat “.

Billy Hargrove has never told anyone that he loves them. He thinks this is as close as he’s ever come before.

As he looks down at her, illuminated by the sunrise and the pink neon sign advertising 70ct slushies, Billy thinks she looks phenomenal in pink. He thinks she’s probably the prettiest sight he’s ever seen.

And he wants to kiss her, so badly. With every fiber of his being. But this isn’t the time or the place. She deserves better than kissing this version of him. The tired, anxiety stricken mess.

So he’s going to wait. Even if it goes against everything in him.

“ You ready to get back on the road ? “ he asks instead and prays to every higher power that he hasn’t just wasted his chance.

(Y/N) nods again and the magic is gone.

- OOO -

There’s a pale blue house at the end of a cul-de-sac. It has a big front yard with a swing set and a white picket fence surrounding the property. Ther mailbox is white and splattered with the same blue paint of the house. In bold black letters it tells everyone that this house belongs to the Stone-Hargrove household.

Billy and (Y/N) sit in the Camaro, parked just across the street from the house and observe it closely. No one is home right now, that much is obvious. The lights are off and no one’s been seen through the big front window yet. There’s no cars in the driveway and everything is quiet.

“ Should we leave ? “ Billy asks and nervously wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans.

“ Do you want to leave ? “

He thinks for a moment then shakes his head.

“ Then we won’t leave.”

While Billy doesn’t dare take his eyes off the house, (Y/N) reads through the letters Billy has handed to her. They’re all varying in sizes and shape. Some of the love confessions are written down neatly on stationary paper with little flowers around the edges. Some are hastily scribbled onto napkins or the back of some promotional flyers. They all have something in common though, they were never sent.

As she reads through them, (Y/N) can’t help but imagine the woman writing them all those years ago. A woman who seemed all but happy in her situation. A woman who so desperately wanted to give her heart to the little boy she had put into this world. Only her heart was never her’s to give away. It already belonged to the man in Florida.

She mentions Billy several times and it really does sound like she loves him. Only not enough. (Y/N) thinks that maybe life isn’t that easy. That it isn’t entirely black and white. That some women aren’t born mothers. That you can try and try and do your best but hat maybe some aren’t meant to be moms.

And yet she can’t help but feel a little resentment towards her. For breaking Billy’s heart.

(Y/N) gets shaken from her daydream as she hears Billy’s breath hitch. She looks at him, then follows his glance towards the house.

There’s a white Jeep Wagoneer pulling into the driveway. A man gets out, salt and pepper hair and smile on his face. He looks kind. Like he’s jumped right out of a 70’s tv family. Your poster-child for the perfect suburban dad.

He’s followed by a woman and at that point Billy’s breath speeds up a little. There’s no doubt in either of the teen’s minds that this is her. She has the same dark blonde hair as Billy. The same smile. Only she seems to show it far more often. She opens the backdoor of the car and a kid jumps out. A girl about Max’s age, maybe younger.

That’s the exact moment Billy’s heart sinks.

She looks just like a girl version of him when he was that age. It’s like looking into a damn mirror they’re so similar. Only they aren’t are they ? Because she’s happy and smiling and driving around a perfect suburban neighbourhood with her mom and dad and they’re smiling and they’re happy and the love each other. And she doesn’t have to ask herself every single fucking night why she wasn’t good enough for her mom to stay. And she doesn’t have to fear coming home to a dad who hates her guts. No she doesn’t.

Billy did. Billy does.

And for a moment he feels resentment cursing through him. Until he feels the soft touch of (Y/N)’s hand against his as she gently pulls his hand off the steering wheel and links her fingers with his.

It’s not the kids fault. Billy has to remind himself. And this woman ? She may have given birth to him but she wasn’t his mother. This was a different woman living a different life. A life that didn’t involve him. A life separate from him. From all the memories they made.

“ That’s not my mom “ he says so timidly, so softly, (Y/N) almost doesn't hear.

“ My mom made me blueberry pancakes on sunday mornings and sang along to Elvis on the radio. “ he continues and sighs deeply. “ My mom took me to Chuck E. Cheese’s every first friday of the month. She told my bedtime stories about dragons and heroes. She built a birdhouse with me for the blackbirds that always hung around in our garden. She took me to the beach whenever possible and helped me find the coolest seashells. This isn’t my mom. My mom loved me and she stopped being my mom when she didn’t. “

And then he turns to (Y/N) and there’s tears in his eyes and she so desperately wants to tell him she loves him but maybe this isn’t the right moment. He deserves better. He deserves an I love you that doesn’t come in a moment of sadness. He deserves an I love you that comes with a moment of magic.

“ My mom loved me. She did. I know this and that’s enough. “ Billy says and smiles. (Y/N)wonders if he says those words to her or if they’re meant for himself. In the end, it doesn’t matter.

“ Let’s go to the beach “ Billy suggests and squeezes (Y/N) hand.

“ Yeah, let’s “

- OOO -

(Y/N) stands by the shore, boots long forgotten by the car as her feet are buried in the warm wet sand. The crashing of waves sends a calm through her. There’s no one but them at this small patch of beach. The sand isn’t perfectly white and the water isn’t crystal clear but it’s perfect. She’s missed the warmth and the sun. It feels good to be here, even better now that Billy has voiced that he’d like for her to come with him to California.

Maybe this can be a weekly thing soon. Them hanging out by the beach, away from the cold and the misery and the heartbreak.

Billy takes a last drag from his cigarette before he pushes himself off the car and walks towards (Y/N).

She looks phenomenal against the backdrop of the ocean. It’s his two favorite things in one place. He thinks that maybe this trip meant so much more than they had initially planned. It made him realize what actually matters to him.

If (Y/N) thinks he’s good enough then there might just be some truth to it. Because she’s entirely too good for him and yet she chooses to drive halfway across the country with him over a Highschool Dance.

He softly touches her hand and pulls her towards the car. Brushing off as she rises her eyebrows in confusion.

“ I’m sorry I made you miss the dance so uh — I think I owe you one “ Billy says. (Y/N) is sure she can just make out a slight blush settling on his cheeks.

“ Billy wha— “

He lifts up a finger as a sign for her to wait, then leans into the car and presses play on the radio, turning the volume all the way up.

Chicago’s “You’re the inspiration” sounds through the air and (Y/N) can’t keep herself from laughing.

“ Didn’t take you for someone who listens to that kind of music “ she jokes and grants Billy a teasing smirk.

“ Ah you know “ Billy says and shrugs “ the girls like it “.

“ Oh really ? “

“ Mmh “ Billy replies then pulls (Y/N) closer settling his hands on her hips as she wraps hers around his neck in return.

“ You’re just a big softy on the inside, huh ? I knew it !”

Billy smiles for a moment then grows serious again. He clears his throat once, twice, then speaks up again. There’s the force of a storm hidden in his eyes. And warmth. And love.

“ Look I — I gotta tell you something. And please don’t interrupt me because if I don’t do this now I’ll get the jitters and never say it. “

The words leaving his lips send (Y/N) heart beating faster.

“ I’m in love with you, (Y/N). I love you. I have to tell you this because the whole thing with my mother’s letters just made me realize that I don’t want to live my life constantly regretting not telling you how much you mean to me. I don’t want to settle for someone I don’t want just because I was too chicken shit to admit my feelings to you. And I know you think that friends falling in love can never last and I know that your parents’ failed marriage has you cynical and I know that this might not be forever but it is now and I honestly can’t see me loving anyone else. I don’t want to regret a single moment not spent with you. And I sure as hell don’t want my future children to feel like my heart is someplace else. I love you, (Y/N). I think you’re by far the coolest person of all time and also your ass is almost as great as mine. I thought you should know. “

There’s no fireworks or butterflies. Nothing fundamentally changes as he speaks those words and yet it feels different. Better. Like there’s a weight lifted and they can finally breathe again.

“ You think I’m cool ? “ (Y/N) asks. There’s a smile on her face that makes Billy’s heart stop and beat faster all at once.

“ That’s what you took from my monologue right now ? That’s it ? “

“ Billy ? “

“ Hmm ? “

“ I love you too. Happy Valentine’s Day. “

It’s all she says but it’s enough. Because he’s enough. For her. And maybe even for himself.

If there ever was a moment to kiss her it’s now. He thinks this is what she deserves. A beach and a love song and a sunset. Magic in a moment.

It’s slow and the air around them practically sizzles with electricity as they move closer. Every sense is registering what’s happening. Billy closes his eyes and feels her soft skin under his hands. He can smell the salty ocean air in her hair.

It’s but a whisper of a touch at first. When her lips meet his and, fuck does it sound cheesy, but feels like so much more than any other kiss ever did. Because she’s his girl.

And she doesn’t taste of cotton candy and miracles but coca cola and twizzlers and he still loves kissing her.

She’s soft and warm and she feels like home. Like a home he never knew he needed but now realizes he wants so desperately. And it’s not California or Hawkins or any other god forsaken place. It’s a person and a feeling and a lifetime of ordinary moments sprinkled with those few magical ones.

“ I wanna be forever young with you, Billy Hargrove “ (Y/N) whispers against his lips. She wonders if that makes sense.

To Billy it makes perfect sense.

- OOO -

They’re almost back in Hawkins, when (Y/N) pretty much forces Billy to pull off at the gas station to stock up on more sodas. That and she really has to pee.

Music is softly playing through the radio as Billy’s eyes fall onto a piece of paper placed on the passenger seat. He noticed (Y/N) had been writing something down during the last hour or so of their ride but hasn’t really paid any thought to what it might be.

Now that the opportunity presents itself though, he can’t help but feel curious. And yes it might be a little bit of an invasion of privacy but it’s literally right there next to him and it’s not like she’s tried to hide it or anything.

So with one last look out the window, he opens the folded piece of paper and begins to read.

“ Dear Mrs. Stone or Hargrove or Stone-Hargrove,

my name is (Y/N) and I’m a 18 year old Highschool student at Hawkins High. You don’t know me and honestly that’s fine, this isn’t about me. This is about Billy. The son you left behind all those years ago. I’m not going to judge you or tell you that you were wrong in doing so (even though you were). I have never been in a position like yours. I am, however, gonna tell you about the boy you abandoned, because he’s phenomenal. 

To begin with, he’s absolutely beautiful. Breathtakingly handsome. That comes with an ego, sure. But it makes him charming. So very charming. He’s smart too, even though he won’t admit it. I know he regularly steals books from my bookshelf only to replace them days later once he devoured them. I know this but I don’t mention it because I know it’s something he wants to keep to himself. I fear there’s a part of him that thinks he needs to be the best at something or he isn’t allowed to take pride in it. I think it’s his dad’s fault (Neil is still an asshole by the way).

Billy has a plethora of faults and issues but for every bad personality trait there’s 10 more that I love about him. He’s so genuinely human, faults and all. He’s not trying to be someone else just for the sake of fitting in. I think you broke his heart when you left but he’s trying so hard to hold it together. For his sake and mine.

Billy has a great taste in music. He’s funny. Genuinely funny. And fiercely protective.

It takes a lot to make him open up but once he does, my god it’s worth it. There’s so much love in him it’s breathtaking. It’s all consuming.

I wish you had taken the time to get to know the person he is, then again maybe he wouldn’t be the Billy he is now if it weren’t for you breaking his heart. Maybe he wouldn’t be my Billy.

Bottom line is, Billy Hargrove is so many things, but he’s not defined by the mistakes of his parents and their inability to love him the way he deserves.

This is my love letter to the boy who owns my heart and the boy you chose to leave behind to find yours.

Regards,

(Y/N)”

And it’s then, that Billy realizes she’s right. That when spring comes around and he’s free to leave his father’s home, that he won’t be defined by another person’s choice anymore. That he gets to decide who he is. That he gets to be goofy and ridiculous and silly. That he gets to make mistakes without having to fear repercussions.

That he gets to love.

That he gets to be loved in return.

As he glances out the window again he catches sight of (Y/N) walking back towards the car and as their eyes meet, she smiles that smile that makes his entire world seem just a little brighter.

And looking at her now, he can’t wait for their future to begin.

February fucking sucks. That’s the underlying truth of it all. It’s grey and dark and cold and miserable. But february too will pass and make room for march then april. For spring and warmth and a future that’s uncertain in so many ways. But a future he knows for sure, will be filled with love.

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #moonstruckhargrovevday

[moonstruckbucky]

Here is the masterlist for my Valentine’s Day Challenge! Thank you to everyone who participated!

﹂ b i l l y  h a r g r o v e

Call Me a Safe Bet, I’m Betting I’m Not by @fairylightsintheupsidedown

Overrated by @hargrove-mayfield

Heaven Can Wait by @staticscreenwriting

A Bed of Roses by @dacremontgomerylover

﹂ s t e v e  h a r r i n g t o n

I Could Wait in the Lost and Found by @casaharrington

﹂  b u c k y  b a r n e s

Care by @jupiterbucky

Băiatul Visurilor Mele by @jewelofwinter 

Too Sweet by @jewels2876 

Chocolate Truffles by @soldatjbb 

5 Ways to Say It by @maid-of-mourne-shore

Three Little Words by @delicatelyherdreams

Indecent Proposal by @shreddedparchment

﹂ c l i n t  b a r t o n

You’re Supposed to Spit, Honey by @fatbottomedgeek

#moonstruckhargrovevday #bucky barnes #billy hargrove #steve harrington #clint barton #writing challenge #bucky barnes x reader #billy hargrove x reader #clint barton x reader

[moonstruckbucky]

💘 Valentine’s Day Writing Challenge 💘

Despite the fact that I am a total Grinch about Valentine's Day, I decided to channel my inner hopeless romantic and host another challenge. This writing challenge is all about LOVE and it should be celebrated! Plus, challenges are fun and my first challenge had more participants than I was expecting!

Begins: February 1st Ends: February 28th

You have all of February to come up with a fic centered around Valentine’s Day! Rules below the cut.

Rules:

—You don’t have to be following me, but a reblog/signal boost of this post would be fantastic and much appreciated. —I’m limiting this challenge to one prompt per person. —You can write about any character from my masterlist as well as other characters their actors have played (i.e. Chris Beck, Lance Tucker, Frank Adler, Jason Scott, etc.). —If over 500 words, please use the Keep Reading feature. —If writing a series, please include a masterlist! —Can be any genre you’d like! Fluff, angst, smut—it has to be centered around Valentine’s Day. —Choose one of the prompts below and message me/send me an ask telling me which one you’re choosing and who you’re writing for. —No RPF (real people fic) please! I’m not comfortable reading/writing for real people. —Cross out means it’s taken! —To be easier on my poor eyes, please bold the prompt you chose. —Tag your submission #moonstruckhargrovevday —Please tag me and message me a link to your fic to ensure I see it! We all know how shifty Tumblr’s notification system is. —I’m breaking this up into categories of Things, Scenarios, and Dialogue. —Deadline is February 28th.

Prompts:

THINGS:

1. Roses/Rose Petals @dacremontgomerylover​ 2. Chocolate @soldatjbb 3. Wine 4. Love Letter @wearewiththebands 5. The Whole Nine Yards 6. Stockings and Lace 7. Pick Me Up 8. Candy Hearts @jewels2876 9. Valentines (yes, those cheesy themed ones from kindergarten/elementary school!)

SCENARIOS:

1. Blind Date 2. Strangers Alone on Valentine’s Day @hotstuffhargrove 3. Wrong Restaurant @trashpandabarnes 4. Fake Date @jewelofwinter 5. Late to a Date @moirasimagines 6. Friend Date @buckymcbuttfacebarnes 7. Forgot a Gift 8. Long Distance Valentine’s Day 9. Working Late/Work Last Minute @allithewriter 10. Secret Admirer @maid-of-mourne-shore

DIALOGUE:

1. “That might be the least romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.” @hufflebucky 2. “After that, you’re lucky I still love you.” @kentuckybarnes 3. “Proposing on Valentine’s Day....how original.” @shreddedparchment 4. “I’m allergic to roses. And chocolate.” @itgraphsandcharts 5. “Why does that look like a love potion?” 6. “I don’t even know you. Why should I say yes?” @fairylightsintheupsidedown 7. “It’s three in the morning.” @solisbucky 8. “Love is overrated.” @hargrove-mayfield 9. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?” @thephantomofthe-internet 10. “Tell me again.” @delicatelyherdreams 11. “It was you the whole time.” @casaharrington 12. “You make me want things I can’t have.” @buckychrist 13. “I don’t want to screw this up.” @jewelswrites-ish 14. “People are staring.” @wolfhardfs 15. “You’re in love with her.” @coffee-obsessed-writer

Tagging a few mutuals who might be interested in joining/signal boost: @casaharrington @thephantomofthe-internet @buckychrist @sgtbucketbarnes @buckymcbuttfacebarnes @hotstuffhargrove @hargrovesgoldilocks @jamesbvck @softhairbarnes @dacremontgomerylover @hopperhargrove @hargrove-mayfield @delicatelyherdreams @kentuckybarnes @coffee-obsessed-writer @moirasimagines

#moonstruckvday #writing challenge #valentine's day #Valentine's Day writing challenge #moonstruckhargrovevday