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hertzwritings · 2 years

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Exes and Oh’s

A/N: I fully blame @buckyshattergirl for this idea and for making my brain even hornier than usual – which is a feat in and of itself – but it’s okay because I love you and I’m really damn thankful that you’re such a cheerleader, my little pastry chef!

You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll make you a personalized drabble, oneshot or multichapter fic – anything you want, with anyone you want, the sky is the limit!

I love y’all. Remember, feedback feeds the soul and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and I have none.

MASTERLIST

SEBASTIAN STAN MASTERLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: AU!Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Ex!Female Reader x Steve Rogers (mentioned)

Warnings: sort of enemies to lovers, ex-lovers, language, Beefy!Bucky, smut (minors DNI) p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, spitting, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), degradation, choking, spanking, slapping, praise-kink, daddy-kink, pet-names, more dirty talk, cream pie, slight cum-play, probably something else too

Wordcount: 3.123

Exes and Oh’s

The door opened with the sound of Steve’s voice, boisterous and loud – Bucky stood up from the couch of their shared apartment and plastered a smile on his face; Steve had brought his girlfriend home for the first time, while Bucky was there, and the normal niceties were required of him, or – according to Steve – Bucky would get his ass handed to him. He could damn well try.

“Stevie, I’m in the living room!” He shouted out and adjusted his posture, doing his best to not look so… Intimidating. Steve came into the room first, his smile wide and happy. “Behave, Buck.” He quickly shot out, before pulling a very familiar face out.

Y/N. Fucking Y/N.

Both of their faces flipped through several emotions, all from confusion to anger to what the fuck and well, look at that, when Steve, the oblivious idiot, introduced them. Y/N plastered the fakest smile on her face. “Hi, nice to meet you.” She said through clenched teeth. Ah, they were playing this game. “You too, doll.” He answered, the same strained smile she had, mirrored on his face. “Stevie, I’m going to get some air.” He said, walking to the yard in two strides – he breathed deeply and considered if it would totally wrong of him to just run away. Probably the mountains. That seemed like a good decision.

“James?” Her voice filled his head and he groaned, turning around. She stood with folded hands in front of the door, Steve running around inside; Bucky narrowed his eyes at her. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he spat. Her face went from somewhat amiable to straight angry. “What the fuck are you doing here?” she asked him, pointing a finger at him. “I live here!” he hissed. “What the hell are you doing fucking my roommate? Is this some insane plot to get back at me, or something?” She scoffed. “Wow, you think low of me, huh? I didn’t know, you asshole.” He chuckled darkly. “Sure, you didn’t. You haven’t heard my name mentioned once, and I haven’t told you about Steve for the year and a half we were together, right?” “Oh my god, he calls you Buck, which I thought was a dog! Do you have any idea how many Steve’s exists in the world?” She glared at him. “This is fucking unbelievable. I didn’t do anything to you, prick, I met Steve, I like him and that’s all there is.” He scoffed. “Sure thing, peach. I…” He ran a hand through his hair. There was some sense in what she was saying; Steve wasn’t an uncommon name, and it wasn’t until recently that Steve and Bucky had found a house together – when Bucky dated Y/N, he lived alone. “Oh, fuck. What are we going to do?” He mumbled. She stared at him. “What do you mean?” He rolled his eyes. “We can’t just go around pretending we don’t know each other, can we?” “Why not?” She said slowly. He raised his eyebrows at her. “We fucked religiously for almost two years, and you want me to… What, just pretend I don’t know you?” “We’ve been broken up for a year, James. You should be…” He growled. “If you’re going to say that I should be over it by now, go fuck yourself with a shotgun.” “Vivid imagery.” She said dryly. He stepped closer to her, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I’m doing this for Steve. Not you.” “I’m not asking you to do anything for me.” She said, looking up at him – he was towering over her, his chest heaving and a his fingers twitched, wanting to press her to her knees and take her mouth. “How long are you staying?” He asked. “Just so I know how much I have to avoid the house.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m here for a week. My place had water damage, they’re trying to fix it. It’s not my first choice, either, James.” “Fine. I’ll play nice, if you do.” She pouted a little – his lips twitched. He always loved riling her up, that little pout that came with her furrowed brows, made him go wild under normal circumstances. “I always play nice.” He scoffed and stepped past her, walking inside. Right before going inside, he turned to look at her. “You look really nice.” He said softly, sliding the door open.

Now he had to prepare himself for a week of torture when his ex, who he wasn’t over, fucked his best friend in their house. While she was wearing the dress, he had bought her.

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It was as if she had only packed the shit, he had gotten her. Every time he saw her, he remembered something. That skirt? Had been hitched over her hips as he pounded her against a wall at a concert. That shirt? His fingers had played with her nipples during a movie, when she wore it the first time. That dress? There was a stain on it from her birthday-party, where he had fucked her mercilessly. it was like his own, personal hell.

Steve was oblivious to it, doting on Y/N and chatting Bucky up a storm; Bucky barely had the wherewithal to grunt a semi-decent response to whatever question Steve had asked, his eyes always drifting back to Y/N, who constantly averted his eyes. He thought he had just a little reprieve from her, when Steve and her went shopping, which gave him room to fucking breathe – her perfume lingered in his nose, his hair, his skin, and he couldn’t handle it. He took a shower, scrubbing his skin until it was angry and red, before wrapping a towel loosely around his waist. He ruffled through his shirts, sighing angrily when the one, he was looking for – his red Henley – wasn’t anywhere to be found. Fucking Steve.

He flung the door open to Steve’s room, a shriek meeting him instead of an empty room. “Fuck, shit, sorry!! I didn’t know you were changing!” He turned his back to an almost naked Y/N, who was breathing heavily. “What the hell are you doing in Steve’s room?” She shouted. “What are you doing here? I thought you were out with Steve!” He shouted back, clutching his towel to his body. “No, he had a meeting or something, so I stayed back.” Before he could answer, he heard the front door open and he panicked, going back inside Steve’s room, and shut the door. “Fuck, he’s coming… Just… Go in the closet, go, now!” He shoved her inside – causing her to squeal – and got inside himself, closing the door. His eye was poked by a hanger, and he swore under his breath.

It was tight. Maybe it wouldn’t have been if he wasn’t as big as he was, but nonetheless, he and Y/N were chest to – well, almost head – both breathing raggedly. Soft light shone in through the cracks and lit up her face. Her eyes were on his face. “Don’t fucking look at me like that.” He whispered harshly. “Don’t push me into a closet, asshole.” “What, you’d rather he found us together, you half naked and me just wearing a towel?” He asked dryly and saw her shoulders sag. “That’s what I thought.” She began to speak, but he clamped a hand over her mouth pushing her back against the wall of the closet. Steve’s voice rang out through the house, clearly looking for her. “Don’t. Make. A. Fucking. Sound.” He whispered. She whimpered under his hand and he had to restrain himself from letting a finger slide into her mouth. Her phone was still in her hand, and she quickly shot a message to Steve, a bad excuse as to why she wasn’t in the house and threw it on the ground. Her eyes found his again, wide and desperate. “Don’t…” he whispered, his willpower faltering for each second, they stood this close. He could hear Steve roaming around downstairs. “Don’t give me that look, I know what it means and we can’t.” She slowly wrapped her fingers around his wrist and removed his hand from her perfect lips. “No, we can’t.” she found his eyes again.

It was all it took.

He descended on her hungrily, his lips meeting hers with wild desperation, tongues gliding against each other – he dropped the towel and her nails clawed on his back, drawing angry lines down the naked skin. He hissed against her lips and caught her lower lip between his teeth, tugging it roughly. She mewled, and he grabbed her throat, cutting her sounds and air off. “Don’t make a fucking sound. You don’t want Steve to find you like this, do you?” He asked darkly. She shook her head as much as she could with him restricting her throat. “There’s my good girl.” She rolled her hips. “Fucking hell, peach…” He rumbled before kissing her again, feverish lips against hers, his fingers sliding to her panties; she whimpered brokenly as his fingers slid across the lace covering her wet pussy. “Oh, baby girl, you want me that bad, huh? You want my fingers here…?” He slid a finger underneath the waistband, his fingers dipping into her. She mewled and he tightened his grip on her throat, his hard cock nudging her skin. “All this for me?” She nodded as he began dragging his finger in and out of her, pumping her fast, his hips rutting; it was like a fucking drug to him, her warm skin and wet pussy. “Yeah, you want to be taken by your boyfriend’s roommate in his closet, don’t you?” He mumbled, adding another finger. She was meeting his thrusts with her hips, her hands clawing fruitlessly against his skin. “Hand.” He commanded, and she complied, holding her hand out to him; he spit into her palm and wrapped it around his throbbing cock, biting down on her neck to avoid moaning loudly. “Fuck, I love it when you stroke my cock…” He mumbled against her heated skin, his fingers working hard to get her to fucking cum; he craved it, wanted it more than air itself. “Fuck!” He grumbled, holding her chin between thick fingers and looked at her. “You’re mine, aren’t you? Yeah, you’ve always been mine, you fucking slut.” Her eyes rolled back. “Open your mouth.” She complied again, putty in his hands. He spat at her and she moaned when it hit her tongue. “You like getting finger-fucked by me when Steve’s looking for you, you dirty, fucking whore, do you?” She moaned a breathy yes. Her fingers moved fast around him, and he pulled out from her grasp with a grunt. “I need to taste you. Make a noise and I’ll fucking stop, you got it?” “Yes, daddy.” She whispered in the soft darkness. He groaned, going to his knees. “That´s daddy’s good girl, isn’t it?” he chuckled at her, his fingers pumping her dripping cunt, before his tongue licked a long stripe against her. He moaned at the taste, working his fingers quickly in and out of her, drinking her up as a thirsting man. Her hips grinded down on him, chasing her release. “You want to cum, baby girl? Want to cum for your daddy, huh?” He moaned against her dripping folds, speeding his fingers up. She was so fucking tight, he couldn’t see straight anymore. “Yeah, you cum, cum on my face, you dirty bitch.” He mumbled. She exploded on him, her whines soft as she grinded herself on his face, coming hard – he drank her up, not willing to spill a drop of her, as she rode her orgasm out. She clawed at him, fingers desperate, and he came to her lips again, kissing her hard; she moaned into the kiss as she tasted herself on his tongue. She tried to grab him and line him up, but he pulled back, panting. “Fuck, we can’t fucking do this.” She pouted. “Don’t give me that fucking face.” “You didn’t cum…” She whispered, eyes wild and darkened with lust. “I don’t give a shit. I’ll cover for you, get fucking dressed. We’re never talking about this again, got it?” She nodded breathlessly, and he left the closet, wrapping the towel around his waist again, cock sensitive and hard as a rock.

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The day stretched on – way too long, for his liking – and Steve was none the wiser. Bucky had kept him entertained while Y/N snuck down the stairs, outside, just to go back inside and slamming the door. Steve had kissed the same mouth, that Bucky had just spit in, and it made him feel weirdly hot.

The darkness covered his room as he tried to sleep, the thoughts of Y/N fucking Steve in the room next door, made him burn with jealousy. he didn’t notice the door creaking open, or the soft footsteps on the floor, but he definitely noticed the dip in the bed as she crawled in. “What the fuck are you doing…?” He didn’t finish, her lips searing on his, as she crawled on top of him, kissing him like her life depended on it. He growled and slung his thick arm around her and flipped them, kissing her just as desperately. She moaned against his lips, her hips bucking up against him and he groaned at the feeling. “Why the fuck are you in here, peach?” he mumbled, lips finding the sweet spot on her neck. She exhaled breathily. “I wanted you…” She whispered in the dark. He closed his eyes. His willpower was nonexistent when it came to her. “You need to be fucking quiet, got it?” He bit her soft skin. She nodded eagerly. He shoved the thoughts and guilt for Steve down – that could be pulled out at his next therapy-session –

He adjusted so he could pull her underwear down roughly, before balling it up and pushed it into her mouth, muffling her sounds. “Steve is right next door, baby, you gotta be quiet.” She nodded. He was rock-hard, the feeling of her body underneath him… It was fucking insane.

He pulled himself out of his boxers, letting the tip of his cock slide against her slit. It was just as wet as before. “You’re such a fucking dirty whore, aren’t you?” He asked her through gritted teeth, saliva pooling in his mouth. He spat down at her dripping pussy, mixing the spit with her wetness with his tip. “You want me, peach? You want me to fuck you dumber, than you already are, huh?” he was fucking feral. “You’ve been thinking about this cock sliding in and out of you, fucking you senseless? Marking you?” He kept sliding against her, the tip catching her clit every once in a while, which made her whine. He slapped her cheek, the sound echoing around the room. “Don’t make a fucking noise, are you fucking crazy?” He grabbed her throat again, reveling in how fucking right it felt. “You like this, huh? Being choked and pinned to my bed while your boyfriend is sleeping right next door, don’t you?” She nodded desperately. He lined up with her hole, straining to keep himself straight. “You’re my fucking little whore, peach, dripping for me…” He whispered before pounding into her. He had to clamp down on his teeth so hard, he thought they might break; it was heaven to be inside of her again. She bucked her hips under him, trying to get him to move, but he slapped her cheek again, holding still. “You’re not in fucking charge, got it?” He whispered dangerously, and fuck, she was responding to him so fucking well. It was almost instinctual the way, they slid against each other. “Good girl, baby…” he began moving, not really caring about the bed creaking or how quickly this would go; he wanted to fuck her senseless. Her walls tightened against him, as he began relentlessly fucking her. “Fuck…” He mumbled; hand hard on her throat. “Look at you, taking me so well… You like it when my thick cock stretch your little pussy, huh? You love to feel me inside of you, you fucking whore…” He lost himself in the feeling of her. “Daddy…” Her voice was muffled, but it was clear what she was saying. He grinned, his hips jerking back and forward, and he let a hand fall to her inner thigh, spanking the soft skin until it burned under his hand. “Is my good, little girl going to cum? You want to cum over daddy’s cock, huh? You want to soak me?” He was mumbling the words, barely able to say them between grunts and moans. She nodded and whimpered behind the makeshift gag. “Cum on my cock, baby, cum for me. Now.” He growled, gripping her tightly and fucked into her, his own release close by. She cried out and tightened her legs, wrapping them around his waist as she came, moving to meet his thrusts. Fuck, it felt so good to feel her clench and writhe on him, his cock splitting her; she was so fucking tight, her wet pussy drawing him deeper. “Good girl, you’re my good girl, aren’t you…” He whispered as she bucked against him in a wild pace. “I’m going to cum, baby, get your legs off of me.” He whispered, voice strained. She shook her head and tightened her grip with her legs, and he slid deeper inside of her – he grunted, and his pace stuttered. “Fuck, no, peach, I’m not…” He moaned, his balls slapping against sweat-slicked skin. “I’m not fucking coming in you, I can’t…” She grabbed his neck and spit the gag out, pulling him down to meet her lips. “Fill me, please, daddy…” He couldn’t have stopped it, even if he had wanted to – he came hard, shooting hot spurts of cum inside of her, filling her with him; she mewled against his lips, his hand going from her throat to her hair, pulling it roughly. They both came down and she finally unwrapped her legs from him. “You’re fucking dangerous, peach.” He mumbled, biting the sensitive skin on her collarbone. “Says you.” She whispered back. “Go back to Steve. This never fucking happened, you got it?” She nodded and slipped out of bed, throwing her panties at him. He caught them with one hand, even in the darkness – she giggled a little. “A souvenir.” The door closed and he fell back against the mattress.

She slid into bed next to Steve, hugging him tightly – she was spent, her legs shaking. “You know, you could just tell him.” He whispered to her. She could hear the smile in his voice. “Well, where’s the fun in that?” She replied.

PART 2

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lillywillow · 1 year

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Secret Ingredient

Summary: When completing a delivery for Sam, you must work together with one of your least favourite people to get the job done but things get a bit more complicated.

Written for: @buckybarnesbingo

Words: 2752

Square Filled: K3- Secrets

Pairing: PastryChef!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Mild adult suggestions, mentions of injury

A/N: Set in a Baker!AU

Ever since you first started working at Sam’s patisserie, Bucky Barnes had been a thorn in your side. Yes, he was handsome, charming and very skilled at his job but he was also a terrible flirt and was always trying to show you up. There wasn’t a day that went by you didn’t butt heads. You were only the commis chef, or in other words, you were Bucky’s underling and he never let you forget it. You had training in other areas of the culinary arts but you still had to learn the fineries of pastry. Sure, you were pretty good at baking simple recipes but when it came to more complicated dishes or getting the decorating just right, you needed work. Bucky was more than happy to assist you but that often came with the price of his gloating and or flirting. The metal armed chef got on your nerves. There were rumours about how he lost his arm but nobody seemed to know the truth and should one ask Bucky, he’d give some impressive backstory. You couldn’t stand him and his showboating which is why when Sam asked you to deliver goods to a four-star hotel upstate, you were less than thrilled.

“Come on, doll. I’m sure it’ll be a piece of cake,” Bucky winked.

…

A piece of cake indeed. On your way upstate, the car broke down, your phone died, Bucky had forgotten his and it started to rain heavily. Bucky got out of the car to push while you steered but eventually you made it to ‘les Vengeurs’ but by then it had gotten dark. Bucky went in first but almost got into a fight with the concierge over him tracking in mud through the clean floors but when you walked in with the boxes from Sam’s, it became a different story.

“You must be the famous pastry chef Madame Marvelle! Come in, come in,” the concierge preened, ushering you inside.

“We’ve been expecting you. And this gentleman with you must be your husband,” he continued.

“Actually, he’s-”

“Her fiancé! Yes, we’re not technically married yet but the wedding is just around the corner. Right, honey?” Bucky smoothly interrupted.

“R-right…”

Why was Bucky doing this?

“We’ll prepare a room for you right away,” the concierge said.

“Thank you. We’ll pay for it as soon as we can,” you replied.

“No, no, no. THE Madame Marvelle will not pay in my hotel. Consider your stay here a gift from us.”

“That would be great,” Bucky grinned, putting his arm around you before you could object.

“What are you doing?! You’ll get us in trouble!” you hissed.

“Relax, Y/N. We’ll stay here tonight and make up some excuse to leave tomorrow,” Bucky confidently replied.

“Everything is all organised. I’ll show you to your room,” the concierge explained.

The pair of you followed him through the hotel, Bucky deliberately squishing mud and flicking water at times. He smirked at the subtle twitch in the concierge’s eye. You gave Bucky a nudge to the side to make him stop.

“I must say, Madame, you’re a lot younger than I would picture for someone with your prestigious accolades…”

“Well, I take good care of my skin,” you sheepishly smiled.

“I see… well, here we are. I hope this room will be to your liking. My name is Phil Coulson, if you need anything, just let me know. I’ll give you some time to settle in and then I’ll come and get you to show you to our kitchen. With your help, we may be able to earn that final star…”

Phil handed you the key card and left you be. You and Bucky walked in and looked around the room which could only be described as the height of luxury. The king-sized bed had an expensive looking duvet with plush pillows piled high. A chaise lounge draped with an exquisite blanket was in the corner. The windows were decorated with velvet curtains either side. The bathroom was just as luxurious with a tub made for two and all sorts of bottles filled with shampoos, conditioners, lotions and other such items lined the spotless vanity.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Bucky announced, heading into the bathroom before you could say anything.

With a sigh, you laid down on the bed. Now it was just you and your thoughts. How were you going to get away with this? Pretend to be this famous pastry chef when you were only a beginner? Bucky could help you but how long would it be until you were discovered as a fraud? You were still deep in thought when Bucky emerged from his shower in one of the hotel’s fluffy robes and flopped himself down on the bed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked.

“Making myself comfortable,” he replied, running a towel through his hair.

“You’re sleeping on the floor,” you huffed.

“What?! No, I’m not!” he protested.

“Well, I’m not taking the floor,” you stubbornly retorted.

“Why do either of us have to take the floor? It’s a big bed, big enough for two. We don’t even have to touch…”

“Fine,” you groaned. “But you stay on your side of the bed. Anything that comes over my side, I’m breaking off. Got it?”

“Whatever you say, Y/N.”

…

After Bucky managed to get his clothes dry, you let Phil know you were ready to see the kitchen.

“This is very exciting; having such a famous chef helping us in our hotel. In fact, we have one of your former students in our employment…”

Your heart dropped to the bottom of your stomach. This could blow everything. Your skin felt hot and itchy, your pulse started to quicken. You were brought out of your head by a warm hand holding onto yours. To your surprise, Bucky gave you a kind smile.

“Madame Marvelle, and fiancé, this is Carol Danvers. I’m sure you can get reacquainted as she shows you around the kitchen,” Phil smiled.

Carol looked you up and down before offering you her hand to shake.

“Of course. It’s an honour to work with you again Madame,” she smiled but it was tight lipped.

There was something that didn’t feel quite right about this exchange.

“I’ll leave you be,” Phil nodded, leaving to tend to other matters.

“Alright, who the hell are you? I’ve worked with the real Madame Marvelle and you’re not her,” Carol hissed once he was out of earshot.

“I’m Y/N and this is Bucky. We’re stranded here until our car gets fixed,” you sighed.

“Why shouldn’t I go and tell Phil the truth?”

“Because, you have that inspector coming tomorrow to decide on whether or not this hotel should be giving another star. I’m still in training but Bucky, he’s really good. He can help you earn that star…”

Bucky looked surprised you were giving him such high praises.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he breathed.

You smiled a little and nodded in response.

“Alright, if you’re a good as she says you are, I want you to make a croquembouche,” Carol ordered.

“No problem,” Bucky shrugged. “Come on, Y/N. I’ll teach you how to make it…”

Carol watched Bucky like a hawk as he made the dessert, walking you through the same process. You followed his steps and produced a decent looking stack although, it wasn’t anywhere near as elegant as Bucky’s tower. When you had finished, Carol tried some of Bucky’s first.

“This is satisfactory. I’ll cover for you until the inspection is over but if you blow this for us, you’re out of here,” she warned.

Next, she tried some of yours.

“You have a lot of potential but you could use a little work. Keep practicing.”

…

You spent a few hours baking and decorating until the pastries looked to the standard of perfection one might expect from a luxury hotel. This of course would not have been achieved without Bucky’s help. It was quite late by the time you decided to go back to the suite.

“You know, Y/N, I’m surprised you think so highly of me. I always thought you hated me,” Bucky started, getting into the elevator.

“I don’t hate you. It’s just… you’re always criticising me or nit-picking over every minor error,” you sighed, tired from the long day.

“That’s because I want you to be better than me and not make the same stupid mistakes that will get you hurt like I…”

You were shocked. Slowly, your eyes were drawn to his left arm; the metal one. Bucky had told many stories about how he lost the arm from a shark attack when he was surfing off the coast of Florida to an epic tale similar to the guy in ‘127 Hours’.

“You…?”

“It was an accident. I was training to become a chef. I was young and arrogant… I… I was showing off with the creme Brulé blow torch and it caught my sleeve on fire. My arm got burned pretty badly… It later became infected and they eventually had to amputate…”

“Is that why you make up stories about how you lost it?”

Bucky nodded and sighed. You couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for him. To hide something like that from everyone.

“It was my own damn fault. I did this to myself… but that’s why I’m hard on you sometimes, Y/N. Because I don’t want you to go through what I did. I want you to more have opportunities…”

Before you could say anything, the power went out, causing the elevator to jolt and sending you into Bucky’s arms.

“The storm must have cut the power,” Bucky mused out loud.

You clung to his shirt, terrified to be in this small, dark place. At least you had someone with you that you could talk to.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’ve got you,” he assured you, holding you closer.

You actually felt safe in his embrace.

“You know, Bucky… there is another reason I pushed you away…”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah… it’s because… you remind me of my ex…”

Bucky waited for you to continue.

“We met in college when I was training to be a chef. He was a little bit older than me and studying medicine. He was flirty and charming, just like you. We had one of those sappy romances…”

You felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled.

“Once he graduated, we broke up but he always promised to keep in touch… The last I heard he was some rich and famous doctor but out of the blue, I get a call from him wanting to meet up in the place we had our first date. Stupidly, I went, and by the time I got there, he was proposing to his girlfriend…”

“What?! He had a girlfriend and he was still going to meet you?”

You let out a dry laugh.

“She was perfectly lovely. The thing that hurt the most is that he introduced me as his ‘friend’…”

“What a jerk!”

“I guess he was…”

“No, he definitely was. You’re better off without him, Y/N.”

You smiled a little at his words.

“Thanks, Bucky. I’ve always been scared to get back into the dating world because what if the same thing happens? What if I fall hard and fast for someone only to have them toss me aside like he did? I don’t know if my heart could handle that…”

“I would never treat you like that,” Bucky softly muttered.

You were starting to see Bucky in a new light and beginning to think that maybe he wasn’t the jerk you thought he was.

“Bucky, I…”

Once again, you were interrupted as the lights came back on and the elevator started moving again. You both silently made your way back to the room, both thinking of the moment you shared.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Forget about what I said before about my side of the bed… but, don’t take it as an invitation to get weird…” you quickly added.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he chuckled.

When morning came, you woke with Bucky’s arm gently around your waist. You actually felt comfortable with his touch.

…

Later that morning, you busily helped Bucky and Carol prepare for the upcoming inspection. You followed every order the two professional chefs as fast and as the orders arrived. Mostly you stuck to following the orders while Bucky and Carol made them look good. It was long, hard work but eventually you made it through the huge rush. When things quieted down, the three of you took a breather. Phil took the opportunity to come and check on how you were doing. You chatted for a while when you noticed him looking at you strangely.

“Where is your ring?” he asked.

“My ring?”

“Engaged women usually wear rings…” he subtly pried.

“Oh! I usually take it off when I’m baking. I wouldn’t want to soil something so precious to me…”

“That’s so sweet! I’d love to hear more. Your first date? First time you met? Oh! How did you propose?” Phil grinned like a giddy school boy.

“Actually, she was the one who proposed to me,” Bucky supplied, casually putting his arm around your shoulders.

“Really?” Carol challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“She made a wonderful candlelit dinner with all my favourite sweets. When she popped the question, well, she was just so beautiful, all I could say was yes…”

The look in Bucky’s eyes melted your heart.

“That’s so romantic! Sorry, I know I’m a big sap when it comes to this kind of thing,” Phil chuckled. “I should check on our esteemed guests…”

“You make a pretty convincing couple,” Carol stated once Phil was gone. “Makes me wonder how much you’re really hiding…”

You and Bucky exchanged glances. Could you make a go of things? Your concentration was broken when Phil came back to proudly announce that les Vengeurs was officially now a five-star hotel.

“Thank you so much, Madame!” Phil beamed.

“Actually, I can’t take all the credit. It was mostly thanks to Carol…”

Carol looked at you in surprise.

“Yes, she put a lot of hard work in. You should really give her the praise.”

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without your help,” she smiled.

It was half true. If it wasn’t for Carol and Bucky, there was no way you could have pulled this off. Phil was grateful for all your help and once he was gone, Carol offered her gratitude as well.

…

Once the mechanic had fixed up your car, you and Bucky made up some excuse to leave before you were discovered.

“Before we take off, can we talk?” Bucky asked.

“Of course. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if… I could take you out on a date sometime…”

“You think we should start dating?”

“Yeah… We could give it a try. Tell you what, how about one kiss? If you don’t feel anything, we go back to being co-workers and learn to get along. On the other hand, if you feel a spark, we could explore where it goes…”

“Alright. One kiss,” you agreed.

Bucky gently pulled you into his arms as you wrapped yours around his neck. As he pressed his lips to yours, you felt butterflies erupt in your belly. It had been a long time since anyone had made you feel this way. By the time you pulled away, you were totally breathless.

“Well?” Bucky breathed.

“I think I’d like to see where this goes…”

Bucky smiled and kissed you again.

…

You and Bucky agreed to keep your relationship a secret for now. During the day, you pretended it was like it was before but at night, Bucky was teaching you how to improve your technique. You got away with hiding your relationship for quite some time until you were caught making out one night after Sam came back to grab something he had forgotten. He teased you for some time but he thought you were good for each other. With Bucky’s help, you really improved your pastries. After all, every good chef knows the secret ingredient to making any recipe is love.

#Bucky Barnes #pastrychef!Bucky #Pastry #buckybarnes #buckybarnesbingo2022 #bbb2022 #secret ingredient #Secrets #Phil Coulson #carol danvers #james buchanan barnes #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #secretly dating

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toastedkiwi · 3 years

Text

Birthday Girl

Summary: your boyfriend made you a cake for your 25th birthday.

Pairing: Pastry Chef!Bucky Barnes x Reader

The cake

Bucky finished the last little touches to the cake.

“Wow, Chef,” Wanda said seeing the cake. “It’s not something you would usually make.”

“Yeah, but I’m dating a girl who watches kids cartoons in her free time and has a sweet tooth. She makes me very happy,” Bucky said pulling out his phone. “And this’ll make her very happy.”

“You’re totally in love, ya know that?” She said.

Bucky smiled. Wanda headed off with a smirk on her face. Bucky took a picture of the cake before boxing it up and taking it out to his Uber. He has the Uber driver take him to your place.

When Bucky gets there, you’re quick to throw open the door. You want to leap into his arms but you can’t. He has your birthday cake in two boxes taped together.

“Hi, Baby,” you said.

“Hey—Lemme put it down first, Sugar,” Bucky said.

You pouted and stepped out of the way to let him enter. He went straight to your kitchen and gently placed the cake on the counter. You followed him of course after closing the door. Bucky then wrapped his arms around you.

“Happy birthday, Munchkin,” your boyfriend said.

“Thank you— can I see my cake now?” you asked.

“Can I get a kiss first?” He asked.

“Yes, you can,” you said.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips against his. You can taste the iced vanilla mocha he claims to not drink on lips. It makes you smile.

“I love you,” you said.

He hummed and said, “I know.”

“Are you ever gonna say it back?” you asked.

“You wanna see your cake?” He asked changing the subject.

“Yes, I do,” you said letting your question drop.

“You gotta close your eyes, Sugar, so I can pull it out of the box,” your boyfriend said. “There will be no peeking or I’m gonna throw your against your wall.”

“Okay, okay,” you said putting your hands over your eyes.

He kissed your hands. You giggled making him smile. He opened up the box and carefully brought out your cake. He placed it on the kitchen island. He went behind you and wrapped his arms around you. He faced you towards your cake.

“You can look now, Sugar,” Bucky said softly.

You pulled away your hands. You squealed and laughed seeing the cake. You jumped up and down excitedly. You spun around and threw your arms around him.

“I love it!” You exclaimed.

“That makes me very happy, Sugar,” he said holding you tightly.

“I can’t wait to show everyone at my party that my boyfriend made me the best cake ever,” you squealed.

“I love you,” he said.

“I know you do,” you smiled.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x girlfriend!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #chef!bucky barnes x reader #pastry chef!bucky barnes x reader #chef au

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purple-babygirl · 3 years

Note

Bestie bestie, thoughts- daddy! Bucky and little reader cooking together is making my heart melt fr💖 ugh! Like imagine her getting him like a chef hat 🥺 one of those white floppy ones 😭😭 or like they both get matching aprons. Ugh.

Pairing: Chubby!Pâtissier!Daddy!Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 1,404

Warnings: ddlg dynamics, it's all fluff.

A/N: I don't know what you did but i was looking up matching aprons after i saw your ask and boom 💥 pastry chef Bucky thots 💥 attacked me and for that I thank you:"💜💜💜 So here we are. I'm sorry if I took too long and made you feel like I was ignoring your ask, I definitely wasn't💜💜💜 It was just really cute it got my mind going so thank you so very much🥺💜💜 Please enjoy xx.

Pie credit.

heavenly sweet

“Daddy.” She turned around, giving Bucky her back, and he could only smile bigger when he saw the way she was bouncing on her ankles in excitement.

Bucky bow-tied her apron for her, lightly patting her back, “there you go, lil chef,” before pawing at her sides until she giggled.

“Thank you, daddy.” She beamed, letting Bucky help her up on the kitchen counter.

It was a special day for her today. She and Daddy were wearing their matching aprons for the first time, and Bucky was showing her how to make one of her favourites, blueberry pie.

Bucky didn’t get the chance to tell her yet, but the matching aprons gesture had him even crazier in love with her. The way she closely watched his reaction as he'd opened his gift and the way she was over the moon when he’d showed his content with it would forever be engraved in his mind next to all of the other precious memories starring her beautiful eyes.

“Okay, so we have our flour over there,” Bucky pointed to the half-full bag, “eggs and butter too,” he checked, walking closer to her, “and my sugar right here.” Bucky planted his hands on the counter, trapping her between them as he dropped his head to kiss, kitten-lick, and nibble on her jaw.

“Dada!” She squeal-giggled, her hands on Bucky’s round belly as he stood over her.

“Look at you, bonbon! You look like a real chef already! You doing the baking today? Hmm?” Bucky joked, peppering kisses on her face, his hands holding her waist.

“No, jus’ helping daddy,” she giggled more, hiding her face in Bucky’s chest, making him chuckle.

“The best help daddy could get, bonbon.” He kissed the top of her head with a satisfied smile.

There was nothing she loved more than watching Daddy work. With his hair pulled back into a small bun, his apron around his full torso, different smudges covering it, and his forearms having the littlest smear of flour on them, Bucky looked like art to her. The way he went about everything he was doing to make her feel included and the way he stole kiss after kiss from her when she was focused. Not to forget how sweet his kisses always were. It was all so perfect. She cherished every moment she got to spend with him, each one better than the last as Daddy made her the best treats that ever existed.

“Now, what do we do, bonbon?” Bucky quizzed playfully, wiping a hand down his apron so he could put the hair that escaped the bun back behind his ear.

“We put in our blueberries!” She replied, her hands eagerly reaching for the bowl of macerated fruit.

“Oh my god,” Bucky looked at her, faking shock and shaking his head.

“Did I say something wrong, daddy?” her voice went small so fast, immediately searching her mind, trying to remember if something went in before the berries.

“I might wanna slow down with teaching you or else next thing I know you’ll be taking over daddy’s bakery, bonbon!” Bucky chuckled, teasingly pecking her cheek.

She laughed with him when he tapped her nose, internally sighing in relief.

He was such a charmer and she was head over heels for him, “’m so proud of you, bonbon.” Bucky kissed her forehead.

“Daddy, can I put them in?” she patted her eyelashes, her hands in place on Bucky’s tummy and he couldn’t help but peck her lips.

“You sure can, lil chef," he said and she grinned at the name he'd started to use, wanting to earn it.

“Here, lemme help you, baby.” Bucky smiled, taking the bowl and holding it for her while she used a spatula to scoop the contents out and into their pie pan.

She was so happy they were doing this together. She was always at her most peaceful state of mind when Bucky would take her to the kitchen with him. Watching him work so passionately was her little self’s own version of bliss. Bucky had the softest aura about him. He was the kindest, most beautiful and most loving Daddy she could’ve ever dreamed of having, and her little heart vowed to appreciate every second with him, every second of him.

“Wait, dada, leave some. Wanna taste.” She stopped Bucky’s hand from slopping the bowl further so the rest of the fruits would fall out.

Bucky, of course, listened to her at once, giving her the bowl to hold on her apron-covered lap as he grabbed her a spoon.

She loved having a taste of the leftovers. Sometimes Bucky would catch her licking cake dough off the bowl in the bakery kitchen and no matter how many times he’d tell her it wasn’t healthy, because the eggs in the batter were raw, she’d still be licking that dough the second he’d turn his back. Bucky loved her too much to be stern with her, so he’d just make sure he was always there, moving the bowl to the sink after being done with it and laughing at her cute pout when she’d see it fill with water as Daddy rinsed it.

Bucky shook the pan to evenly distribute the berries on the surface, adoringly grinning at her attempts to catch a berry that wouldn’t roll and slide off the spoon. She eventually managed to scoop some, moaning when she slid the spoon in her mouth. Bucky’s food always tasted so good she was in love.

“Good, baby?” Bucky licked his lips, wiping his palms on his apron again.

“So good, dada.” She nodded, indulging herself with another spoon of pie filling.

“Give daddy a taste, bonbon,” he asked lowly and she held her spoon up for him, trying not to spill.

Bucky smiled gently, taking the spoon and bowl from her and setting them aside.

She didn’t have time to be confused before he was kissing her, his tongue sliding in to taste hers. Her eyes closed as a surprised moan got out only to be swallowed by Bucky.

She tasted like her with a hint of blueberries, so sweet; so delicious. Bucky’s hands cradled her face as he deepened the kiss, not able to get enough of her flavor, her soft lips or the tiny sounds leaving them. Her smaller hands settled on his chubby tummy, before sliding to his sides to hold him close, slightly clutching his apron.

Their mouths parted, the need for oxygen kind of forcing Bucky away though he still gave her lips a couple of short kisses as he tried to take his breath, his forehead resting on hers.

“So good indeed,” Bucky chuckled breathlessly and her face felt hot, her nose shyly nuzzling Daddy’s cheek to hide.

“Hey, look at me,” Bucky’s voice was so velvety and soft as his fingers brought her face back to his, “I love you, bonbon,” Bucky said, his blue eyes enchanting hers and she could only see, hear, smell and feel him.

Bucky was gorgeous. His tall frame towering over hers, making her feel safe. His pink lips wearing a tender smile that was only designed for her. His cologne surrounding her and filling her chest with warmth. His belly soft and full under her palms. His hair a little out of place as a few strands had slipped out of the bun and refused to stay behind his ear. He was flawless and he was her Daddy.

“I love you, daddy,” she returned with a timid smile.

Her hand went up to slide Bucky’s soft hair back behind his ear, stealing his heart all over again when she cupped his cheek and pressed a tiny kiss to his lips.

With her hand still holding the side of his face and her face tilted upwards, she then started telling Daddy what they had to do next, talking about covering the filling using the remaining pie dough and such, wanting Bucky to be proud of her. And he was, though he wasn’t hearing a word she was saying, he was the proudest.

As he watched her lips move and her hands gesture, Bucky could only think he’d gone to heaven because that must’ve been the only correct name for what he was experiencing in her angelic presence.

Of all the sweet things he's ever tasted, she was his one, true addiction and Bucky was gladly hooked.

Tags: @harrysthiccthighss, @tinystudentfirepurse, @lavendercitizen

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pellucid-constellations · 3 years

Text

Can’t Get the Words Out

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s been awfully distant lately. You don’t think your heart can take what you know he’s about to say.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Angst

a/n: I’m so happy everyone enjoyed my first oneshot!! Here’s another one!

Masterlist

“You always bake at 3am, or do you have a bake sale coming up we don't know about?” Tony’s voice carries across the kitchen, startling you into dropping the cupcake you were icing. You reach down to grab it and throw him a glare.

“If I was having a bake sale, you just lost your cut of the profits.”

“Doesn’t work that way, Marie Callender. I provide the kitchen, I get some of the cash.” He grabs a cookie off one of the many pans strewn about the kitchen. “Seriously though, what’s with the baked goods?”

You sigh, abandoning the piping bag and wiping the excess icing from your hands onto your apron. It was Bucky’s. You gave it to him after he’d made you dinner for the third time.

In all honesty, you don’t really have a reason for why you were baking enough to feed an army at three in the morning. You aren’t notorious for supplying the team with sweets, nor are you aware of any hidden personal hobbies involving the kitchen. You have just tried everything else already. You tried reading a book, taking a walk, watching a movie, and even writing in a journal. You knew that last one wouldn’t do anything for you, but it was after you tried to leave the compound in the late hours of the night and Steve was already waiting at the door to turn you back around. It was a last resort.

You tried it all and absolutely nothing could get your mind off of how distant Bucky was being, how standoffish he had been acting for the past 3 weeks. It came out of nowhere, honestly. You’ve been together for years and nothing seemed amiss. Up until a few weeks ago, you were so unbelievably happy you didn’t think anything could go wrong.

And then Bucky stopped touching you as much. You would reach out to him at night and he would hold your hand for a moment before turning away from you. Coming home from a mission got you a brief hug instead of the kisses he would place across your face and the declarations of love that came after. He stopped meeting you on the couch in the mornings after his workout. He stopped asking you how your day went when you laid together at the end of it.

You were coming to the conclusion that Bucky was pulling away, and it was eating you alive. So you are baking instead of ruminating on all of the possible way he could break up with you. Not that you’re going to tell Tony that.

“I drank a lot of coffee right before I went to bed and couldn’t sleep. Baking sounded fun, I never really do it.” He raises his eyebrows at you, obviously not believing your lie.

“Yeah, sure thing. This have anything to do with Barnes being away on a mission? I know you two get all antsy when the other one is away.” Yeah that sounded good enough. You raise your hands in surrender.

“You caught me. I’m an overly concerned girlfriend. Decided to take it out on some sugar and flour.”

“Alright, scoot down then. I’m very good at decorating. Dated this pastry chef one time and she taught me a lot. Not that much about cake decorating, but I like to think the skills get transferred in other ways.” He sends you a sly smirk that you reciprocate with a grimace. Picking up the bag you left on the counter, he gets started on the small cakes. “You know he comes back tomorrow, right? Thought he would have texted you that when he sent in his correspondence.”

The weight on your chest grows heavier. You don’t know that because he didn’t tell you. In fact, this mission that he went on with Steve has granted you with radio silence. You texted him a few times the first day, but with no response you gave up. Better to be broken up with when you still have some dignity.

“Right yeah, I know. It still just makes me nervous. I’ll be glad when he’s back.” Tony hums in agreement before you get back to work alongside him. When the light of the morning begins to pour through the windows, he pushes away from the counter and releases a deep breath.

“Alright, y/n. Barnes isn’t due back until midday. You try and sleep and I’ll figure out what to do with our little project here. Probably enough to feed the IT department. Although that new guy, Mark, might take care of most of it. Guy’s a tank.” You honestly are exhausted at this point. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to fall asleep?

That ended up being incorrect, unfortunately. Sleep was absolutely evading you, even after your long night. If Bucky really was due back in the afternoon, you figure it would be fine to get a few miles in at the gym. Maybe you’d find Nat and spar. Not that either of you really benefited much from it; you two were pretty evenly matched.

Changed and heading down the hall, you stop when a familiar voice catches your attention. It sounds eerily like Steve, but he certainly couldn’t be back yet. It’s hardly 10am. You move down a bit further, your body completely blocked by an adjoining hallway, your sounds masked by the buzzing of a nearby vending machine.

“This is getting out of hand, Buck. If you want to do it, you just gotta man up and say the words.” The voice you could now confirm was Steve stresses. “I mean you’re leading the poor girl on.”

You feel like you aren’t inside of your body, but the nausea that sweeps through your stomach confirms that you are, in fact, very much still there. Leading you on? Had your years together not been confirmation that he loved you?

“Steve, just leave me alone. Stop being a punk, I know what I’m doing.” Bucky sounds tired and even as uncertainty rages within your mind, you still hope he’s not hurt from the mission.

“Do you? You didn’t talk to her once and we were gone for 4 days. She’s gotta be at least a little suspicious of you. I see how you’ve been acting around her, Buck. Everyone has. She doesn’t deserve that.” You aren’t sure what’s worse. Bucky’s actions being so obvious to everyone in the compound, or the lack of reaction he seems to have to Steve’s words.

“Yeah, well I know that obviously. I’ve just been trying to find the right time to do it. We’ve just been together for so long it seems like there will never be a right time.”

“So ignoring her is the better option?”

“For now, Stevie. She’ll be okay after. Just gotta figure everything out. It’s what’s best.” Bucky’s voice trails off as the duo makes their way around the corner down the hall.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt like this before. The blood rushing in your head is so loud and the weight that has been present on your chest for the last few weeks becomes exponentially heavier. How can he talk about leaving you so casually? Your entire world is Bucky and to him you’re just an item on a to-do list; making sure he breaks up with his girlfriend and then moving onto the grocery list on the other side.

You almost want to scoff at his nonchalance, but the hurt you feel wins out. You slide down the wall by the stupid vending machine Tony had to buy for “employee satisfaction purposes” and try to find your breath. Your mind starts to compartmentalize your feelings and what your next actions will be. So much of your things are in Bucky’s room, you practically shared it at this point. Should you start to move them out? Your anniversary was in 2 months but you stupidly already bought a gift. Could you even return it?

God, you knew this was coming but hearing it from the source still hurt more than you care to admit. What have you done wrong? You rack your brain for some event, some action that could have caused Bucky to not love you anymore, but you find nothing. Nothing had changed other than his apparent shift in his devotion to you.

“Miss. y/l/n.” Friday’s voice startles you out of the panic your body had fallen into. “Your presence has been requested in the common room. Lunch has been ordered for Mr. Barnes and Mr. Roger’s return to base.” Lunch? How long have you been sitting here?

You stand to collect yourself, brushing back the flyaways that escaped your hair tie. You take a few deep breaths as you make your way back to the top floor, mentally preparing yourself to act like you didn’t overhear the worst conversation possible.

“Took your sweet time, girl! What does the gym have that I don’t?” Sam calls to you as you enter the room. You send him a small smile and mumble back some response with the unconvincing sarcasm you know he expects. His smile falters a little, but he doesn't call you out on your mood.

You spot Bucky and Steve over in the corner of the room, scarfing down the food from wherever they had ordered it from, you didn’t care to look. You know the team expects a reunion from the two of you. You walk over to his seat and lean down to kiss his cheek, body tense and mind screaming at you not to cry.

“Hey, Buck. Welcome home.” Your smile does very little to soothe the confused look Bucky began giving you the second you walked into the room looking like you were in physical pain. His arm wraps around your back as you kiss him, one of the first times he's actually initiated contact in a while. His furrowed brows deepen when you release him and move clear across the room, sitting with Sam and taking a few of his fries.

You can feel the burn of his gaze as you do everything you can not to meet his eyes. You look at Sam, humoring him as he tells an animated story about something that happened last week. You feel a bit bad that you have very little focus on the words coming out of his mouth. That weight on your chest is still ever present, and Bucky is not making it easier.

It’s not fair for him to be confused. He’s treated you like this for weeks, and he doesn’t even want you anymore. The conversation he had with Steve in the hallway keeps running through your head like a broken record until you are pulled out of your stupor by Bucky’s voice.

“Y/n?” He looks like he’s said it a few times. His head is ducked down a bit, trying to meet your eyes in your shorter chair.

“Sorry, what did you say?” You try to find your bearings.

He doesn’t say anything at first. He just looks at you with an intensity you forgot existed within him. He seems to be trying to read your mind through your eyes and you’ve never wanted to disappear more. He wouldn’t dump you in front of the team, would he?

“I asked you if you had a good workout. When I got in, Nat said she saw you walking down there when she woke up.” You finally meet his gaze fully, allowing him to sit up from across the room.

“I never made it to the gym. Something stopped me in the hallway.” You regret it as soon as it came out of your mouth. You know it will lead to the truth coming out, maybe sooner than he intended, but why prolong the inevitable? You think you hear Steve drop his fork to his plate. Bucky looks uncomfortable, you look wrecked. How can he not care?

“Oh. Anything interesting?” He’s gauging your reaction. You could have heard him in the hallway, or you could have ran into someone you knew.

“Not entirely. I was kind of expecting it.” You feel your bottom lip tremble and you know you need to leave before he can see you cry. Before everyone in the room can see you cry. You know Tony’s behind you, piecing together what he missed the night before.

The room is completely quiet, but too loud at the same time. The tension in the air, strongest in the eye contact between you and Bucky, never wavers. You didn’t think this was going to happen in front of everyone. You don’t want it to, so you get up from your seat beside Sam. Bucky stands almost as soon as you do.

“I uh- I didn’t get much sleep honestly. Might try and take a nap. I’ll eat later.” You quickly rush out of the room, Bucky on your heels and Steve casting a knowing look his way. You make it inside your room before Bucky gets the first word out.

“Sweetheart, just hang on a sec. Hey, wait.” He reaches out and grabs your arm to stop you in the middle of the room, “Y/n, talk to me, yeah? What’s goin’ on?”

The tears that have been looming behind your eyes finally make their appearance, betraying the neutral front you had attempted to portray. He looks so confused, even a little scared. Like somehow he wasn't the one about to rip your heart out of your chest.

“Just get it over with, Bucky. I already heard you talking to Steve. I know why you’ve been acting like this and what you’re going to say.” You explain, dejected.

“Y/n-” he sounds exasperated, “What’re you talkin’ about, doll? When I was talking to Steve? When?”

“In the hallway. He told you that you were stringing me along and just needed to get it over with. That I didn’t deserve it. You didn’t even react, said you knew. James, if you’re going to break up with me then just do it. I can get my stuff out of here by tomorrow.”

At that, he rushes to you, eager to reach out and touch you in some way. Wanting to make whatever point he’s about to make more meaningful to you. You step just out of his reach, denying him. Something akin to hurt flashes across his face.

“Baby, I would never—I don’t want to break up with you. I love you. I love you so much. What you heard is nothing like that. You got it all wrong.”

“How?” you exclaim. “How could I have it wrong, James? For weeks you haven’t so much as touched me. Brushed off everything I’ve had to say. Left me for days with no contact when obviously you had the ability to. I had to get updates from Tony! Tell me what I did. Tell me what I did to make you stop loving me.”

He starts to panic, trying yet again to reach you. He stammers a few times, trying to articulate all of the thoughts running through his head. His first name that had fallen from your lips burns his ears, the nickname a privilege he’s lost from you.

“No, no, no.” His hands shake as they are held out in front of him, “You didn’t do a single thing, doll. You are so perfect. Everything you do, I swear. I love you more than anything. I didn’t mean for- I would never want you to think I didn’t love you. I’m so bad at this. I can’t- I can’t get the words out.

“I was scared. Something in me just kinda… clicked a few weeks ago. We were walkin’ in the park that Sunday we both had off and some dog jumped on you. You stopped and pet it and when I looked at you I just knew that there would never be a time in my life that I wouldn’t love you. No matter anything that happened. I knew that I needed to tell you that, to let you know that you’re it for me. I-I wanted to ask you to marry me, doll.”

The air in the room seems to stiffen, unmoving. You blink at him, twice, and he seems to take this as an okay to finally touch you. His warm hands hold your cheeks and he looks into your eyes, pleading.

“You gotta believe me. I’m so bad at this, Stevie even told me that. You heard him in the hall. Ever since Hydra, when I feel like I got somethin’ too good I get freaked. Scared it’ll get taken away. I’ve been tryna think of a way to tell you. To ask you to marry me.” Your brain catches up and decides it’s time for you to say something.

“Marry me?” That’s all you can get out. He seems to get even more concerned at this, eyes flashing.

“You don’t have to! I’d be happy to just be with you for the rest of my life. Just be near you if you decide you’ve had enough of me after this. I would understand. I’m just so sorry, doll. I never meant to make you feel like this.”

“Bucky, I can’t believe you.” To him, this is the final blow. You really are done with him. He’s messed it up so bad, you don’t even want to be around him. He begins to slide his hands off of your face, but you quickly keep them in place.

“I can’t believe you would think I would leave. Think that I wouldn’t want to marry you.” His eyes dart up to yours, full of hope. “I’m never going to leave you. You’re it for me too. These past few weeks were awful, yeah, but I could never have enough of you.”

“I’m so sorry, doll. I know they were and that’s my fault. Steve gave me so much shit for it. I wouldn’t listen. I’ll make it up to you, swear it.” He pulls your body to his now, resting his palm on the back of your head, “I’m gonna take you out so many times, you’re gonna wish I was leavin’ ya alone.”

You laugh into his chest, your tears finally drying with the comfort of his embrace.

“As long as you promise that this wasn’t your proposal, I think we’ll be okay.” He scoffs.

“You think that was the proposal? For my girl? Nah, she deserves the best. I’m gonna pull out all the stops you’ll see.”

You angle your head up from his chest to look up at him, smiling. He follows your gaze and brings you in for a kiss and you finally feel that weight on your chest alleviate.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky oneshot #marvel imagine

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starryevermore · 3 years

Note

hey!! can you make a spicy story of bucky but he’s chubby! i would love that!! something like i had a crush on him back in high school and i hadn’t seen him for over 5 years and i met him like in a coffee shop and we catch up with things!! and like spice it up a little;)

old crushes, new lovers

pairing: chubby!bucky x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected sex, slight cockwarming, pet name (doll)

Seeing Bucky Barnes brought back a tidal wave of emotions that you hadn't thought about since graduation. The moment you walked across the stage, threw your cap in the air, said goodbye to the people you grew up with, you had fully intended on putting your crush on him behind you. You were the quiet, nerdy girl that sat in the front of the classroom. He was the flirt, the Casanova, that could have anyone he wanted. You were on completely different ends of the social spectrum. You'd long since accepted that your crush would be nothing more than a crush. And now that you've graduated, you knew that you should just fully leave him behind.

You had college to worry about, after all. Just a few weeks after graduation, you were going off to college. You were in an early acceptance program that was part of the school's honor's program, so you got a bit of a headstart to it all compared to your classmates. When you said goodbye at graduation, it was goodbye til your next break.

Except, you didn't come back for Christmas break. Or summer break. Or any breaks. You found other things to do, other places to go. You weren't intent on coming back to a place where no one, save for your family, actually cared about you. When you were finally eligible to live off campus, you got yourself an apartment close to your school and just lived there year-round until you graduated.

This was the first summer you'd been back in your hometown since high school. Four long years you'd been gone, and so little yet so much had changed in that amount of time. You'd just come back from a promising job interview—though you had wanted to get away from your hometown, even you had to admit you'd missed it and wanted to put some roots down—and you'd decided to treat yourself to some coffee from the café you once worked at in high school.

That was where you ran into Bucky, who was right behind you in line. You'd chatted as you waited for your coffees at the pick-up counter, the conversation coming easily which was a far cry from the quiet squeaks you'd let out whenever he spoke to you in passing in high school. But things were different now. Bucky was different. He was no longer the muscular athlete you once knew. He had put on some weight and it somehow made him look even more appealing to you, something you once thought to be impossible.

You sat down at a booth in the corner of the café, laughing and talking about how your lives had turned out. Bucky had gone to culinary school to become a pastry chef, and now he owned a little bakery on the corner of 107th Street and Main Street. Said it was pretty popular, and that you should check it out sometime soon. But it wasn't just all about him. He was interested, genuinely interested, in what you'd been getting up to in college, why you hadn't been around.

And then he said the one thing that made you follow him to his apartment and fall into bed with him: "You know, my one regret in high school was never asking you out. Always had a massive crush on you, but you were way out of my league. Smart and gorgeous? Yeah, I knew you'd never want to be with a guy like him."

And now you were wrapped around him, straddling him as you sank down onto his cock. God, he fucking filled you and you hadn't even taken his full length yet.

"Shit, doll, you're so fuckin' tight," Bucky hissed, his hands grabbing at your hips, guiding you as you rode him. "Fuckin' perfect, made just for me, ain't ya?"

"Yes, oh god, feels so good!" you cried, your hands gripping his shoulders.

"No god, doll, jus' me."

Your nerves were on fire, the pleasure, the euphoria, you were experiencing far greater than anything you ever felt in your entire life. You squeezed your eyes shut as you approached your high.

"I think I'm gonna—"

"Go ahead, doll, come for me."

The wave crashed over you, and you collapsed against Bucky's chest as he reached his own high. He circled his arms around you, holding you close as he stayed inside you, his and your quiet pants the only thing filling the room. You nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck as he held you even tighter.

"I know this isn't the typical way people go about these kinda things," Bucky said, "but would you like to go out to dinner sometime?"

You smiled softly. "Yeah, yeah I'd love that."

#requested by anon #starryblurbs #chubby!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #starrywrites #starryevermore

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ay0nha · 3 years

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MASTER LIST (perpetually in progress)

Key: *= smut // what's at the top is the most recent

JUJUTSU KAISEN:

Nanami Kento:

"Death is a Mirror" prologue, part I

Satoru Gojo:

When shall we meet again in thunder, lightning, or rain? prologue, part i, part ii

(LIVE ACTION) ONE PIECE:

Sanji:

Request ( x matrie d!reader) (part II) Request ( x witch/doctor!reader)

Buggy:

Request (x smuggler!reader)

Shanks:

Request (x clairvoyant!reader)

PEAKY BLINDERS:

Tommy Shelby

“An Ode to Ruination” (One-shot), part II (of sorts) “Venus Rising” Request

THE BEAR (FX):

Pastry Chef Luca

“Idle Hands” (One-shot) “Boiling Point” (on hiatus)

HARRY POTTER/ FANTASTIC BEASTS:

Remus Lupin

“The Sweet Refrain of Temptation” “Love is a Losing Game”

Theseus Scamander

“Some Unholy War”, II, III, IV

TLOU:

Joel Miller

“Lament of My Heart”* (One-shot) “Relief in Destruction” (One-shot)

Tommy Miller

“Dead Man Walking,” Part II “Violent Delights, Violent Ends,” Part II, Part III “Sugar For the Trail”* (One-shot)

MARVEL:

Bucky Barnes

“Pain in My Heart“ (One shot)

Dr. Stephen Strange

“Strange Days” (One-shot) “Here to Bargain” (Request) “Fate’s Sacrifice” (Request) “Strange Policy”* (One-shot)

Druig (Eternals)

“Venus in Blue Jeans,” II

Peter Park (TASM)

“Long Days” (One-shot)

BLUR/GORILLAZ:

Damon Albarn

Tomorrow Nevermore (Series) ”Dilf!Damon Smut” (Headcanon) ”Current era Damon” (Headcanon) “Dating ‘98/’99 Damon” (Headcanon) “‘98/’99 Damon Smut”* (Headcanon) Request (One-shot) Undertones (Series/On hiatus)

Jamie Hewlett

“Kiss of Death“* (Request)

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captainscanadian · 3 years

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Bucky in Paris | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Drabble)

MY MASTERLIST

Request: Hiii! So how does CEO!bucky(or one of your other workaholics) make up for not being able to be qith you on your anniversary? Love you!!

Word Count: 424

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: I’ve decided to write some short things so here it goes. Requested by my dearest @dramadreamer14!

It was a last minute business trip to Paris that had forced Bucky to leave town the night before your anniversary. As the company was in desperate need to sign a major investment deal, he had no choice but to fly across the pond and oversee the deal himself. The board had trusted him with the job, and he couldn’t necessarily say no or reschedule the trip for another date. Time was money in the corporate world, after all.

Needless to say, he had spent his entire plane ride feeling awful that he couldn’t be with you on your tenth anniversary. Despite being one of the busiest men in the world, he had never missed an anniversary before. But even when he wasn’t there, he made sure that his presence was still there. Perhaps, he had his secretary to thank for that.

You were woken up with breakfast in bed, homemade crepes to remind you of the crepe station you’d had at your wedding. As you got dressed and ascended down the stairs, a string quartet was playing your wedding song while the living room floor was filled with multiple bouquets of red roses and bags from Dior, Chanel, and Louis Vuitton. You’d never been into material things, and Bucky knew that. But he had also hoped that you would accept these gifts, as you had no choice. He wasn’t there for you to yell at him about how much he had spoiled you.

When you got into the office, there were more flowers. You had barely gotten through the day when your best friend arrived to take you to lunch, reservations already made at the Russian Tea Room where Bucky had proposed to you. While it sucked that he wasn’t there with you, the entire day had been spent reliving the memories of your relationship. You couldn’t complain.

It wasn’t until later in the evening when Bucky had finally called you; his assistant had already informed you that the deal had been closed and that he was getting on the next flight back to New York. You knew that there was twice the reason to celebrate once he got back. Needless to say, he had used the opportunity of being back in Paris to track down the pastry chef who had catered for your wedding at the Four Seasons Hotel George V, just so that he could fly him out to New York to cater your anniversary party that following week. The macarons had been the highlight of your wedding night, after all.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #ceo!bucky barnes x reader #ceo!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes drabble #bucky in paris #aj writes

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wonton-lady-writes · 2 years

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Avalanche, Part 1

Summary: Bucky is a fool in love, and so is she. She sings her sorrows to cafe patrons, and he avoids his feelings like the plague. Being afraid of his past is keeping Bucky from enjoying the good things the present and future are providing for him. How long will these good things wait for Bucky?

Word count: 3122

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Mutant!Stark!Reader, platonic Steve Rodgers x Reader, platonic Sam Wilson x Reader

Rating: Teen?

Tags: Fluff, angst if you squint, established relationships/world, Stark!Reader AU, Mutant!Reader AU

A/N: I do not own these characters. I do not own the image below (titled Byron by Adele M. Reed on Flickr). Sorry for any mistakes, this work is not beta read. I hope y'all enjoy my first work in a long, long time! Hoping to make this into a three part series. Also, a complementary playlist for you lovely beings :)

Soft music flowed from the old speakers of the cafe, dancing along the glass dessert display case, caressing the frostbitten ears of the late night patrons. Coats were stacked in layers on the coat hooks near the entrance, a wet floor sign and mop perched beside a chalkboard welcome sign decorated in hand drawn white music notes and orange leaves. Paintings from local artists adorned the brick walls, outlined in faux ivy and illuminated by the faint glow of Edison lights strung across the exposed wooden beams of the cafe’s high ceiling. Behind the counter, a barista was humming along to the music as he wiped down the espresso machine, the pastry chef carefully lined the empty display case with warm, flaky croissants and gooey chocolate muffins she pulled fresh from the oven. People were beginning to gather around the stage, sipping on hot drinks and sugary pastries as they made themselves comfortable in the cafe’s mismatched chairs and sofas.

A young woman was sitting on a stool on stage, tuning a guitar. Her unruly curls were tucked behind her ears as she intently focused on the sound of the strings beneath her fingers. She tapped the toe of her black boot against the worn dark wood of the cafe stage as she thought for a moment. Something was off. She felt nervous, though she couldn’t quite place where this feeling of unease was coming from. It wasn’t being on stage that made her feel this way. Everyone in the audience knew her. They - like her - were evening regulars. No, this feeling of dread seemed to come from somewhere else - somewhere outside of the safe bubble of this cafe.

In the past few months, this place had become a second home for her. When she wasn’t performing, her evenings were spent in the back corner, away from the group, sipping on her mocha while she scribbled away in a journal. Tonight though, she felt like singing. She played with the hem of her bell sleeves, taking note of how the thin, red polyester looked against her pale hands. The music playing from the cafe speakers faded out, the sound of static signaling her microphone was now live. She cleared her throat then smiled, shrugging away the universe’s warning.

“We love you Y/N Stark!” the cafe’s pastry chef screamed from behind the counter, a grin plastered on her face. The crowd laughed.

“Hey everyone, I’m back,” the crowd erupted in cheers. “Unfortunately, I will not be sharing any of my personal woes with you today. I know, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“I love you too, Ingrid,” Y/N laughed. “Especially your Tuesday night danishes. Now, I’m in a bit of a mood, you know? And the only one who really gets me when I’m feeling like this is the wonderful Brandon Flowers, so tonight I’ll be playing his masterpiece ‘Lonely Town’ and you all can join me in this wonderful mood that I’m in. If you know the chorus, feel free to join.”

Y/N began to strum the strings of her guitar, closing her eyes as she waited for her cue. She was two lines in when the bells of the front door rang, signaling the arrival of a new customer, but she didn’t bother to look up. In this moment, it was just her and the music. Eyes closed, fingers strumming chords she knew by heart.

Three men entered the cafe and sat around an empty table in the back near the counter. Two were smiling and nudging each other, occasionally stealing glances at the quiet third. The smiling blond man whispered something to his laughing companion whose face lit up. He quickly got up and ordered from the counter.

The third man didn’t notice their smiles and whispers, or even the steaming mug of black coffee that suddenly appeared before him. His blue eyes were focused on the girl singing on stage. Nothing else existed in the dimly lit cafe, only her and her voice. It was the same voice he once would fall asleep listening to under the stars, the same one he had been aching to hear again for months.

“Hey, hey Buck,” his blond friend nudged him, breaking him from his thoughts. “Welcome back.”

“Steve...” he said, raking his gloved hand through his long, dark hair.

“Now, before you get mad,” the other interjected. “We have a very good reason for-”

“It was Sam’s plan,” Steve explained, trying to hold back a smile.

“No, Steve, our plan. Us.” Sam said. “However, my informant failed to provide one small detail.”

“The singing, that was not planned.” Steve shook his head.

“Did not think she would be singing.” Sam said.

Bucky frowned. Yes, he missed her. Yes, he had been dying to speak to her since the night they walked down to the pier together. Neither of them could sleep, and they always found comfort in each other's presence. But this was not the way he wanted this to happen. This isn’t how he wanted to see her again. He didn’t even bring flowers or practice what he would say to her.

“She’s going to kill us,” Bucky said.

“And you’re going to love every minute of it,” Sam wiggled his eyebrows at Bucky over his yellow mug.

Bucky glared at him, then turned his attention back to the stage. Back to Y/N.

The crowd was joining her now as she sang a new song, one he recognized from a CD she made him. She was smiling and nodding her head now, her foot tapping along to the sound of her guitar. Her hair was longer, but she still looked the same to Bucky. Her dark blue eyes still sparkled, even under the dim lights of the stage, her laugh still infectious.

Soon the cafe was applauding and Y/N was making her way off the stage to the counter with her guitar case in hand. Before Bucky could stop him, Sam was already out of his seat running up to her.

“Steve…”

“Don’t worry, Buck,” Steve clapped Bucky on his shoulder. “Y/N is one of my best friends, I know her better than most. She probably won't hurt you. Probably.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said sarcastically.

Meanwhile, Sam was busy helping Y/N with her guitar case. To say she was surprised to see him would be an understatement.

“Sam, how did you know I was here?” She asked through a forced smile. This was not good. Not good at all.

“It’s a long story. We enjoyed hearing you play. Had no idea you could sing like that.”

Y/N froze. “We?”

Sam jerked his head in the direction of the back table. Steve waved and Y/N let out an internal scream. When she realized who was beside him, she swore her heart stopped beating. When Bucky made eye contact with her, she could feel her heart leap right out of her body and bury itself into the earth.

“Samuel Thomas Wilson,” Y/N whispered through clenched teeth. “You’re dead.”

“You guys need to just talk,” Sam begged. “Things have been weird long enough -”

“But I was singing!” she squeaked, “Singing things that may or may not be about - something. And someone here might recognize him and that’s just going to be -”

“Wait, wait,” Sam interrupted. “How would anyone recognize him?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Nope.”

“Yes. How often are you here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Stark, do you do more than sing?”

“Let’s get coffee, I want coffee!” Y/N began to quickly walk to the counter, waving down the barista. “The mochas here are so good! It has dark chocolate and caramel, and I like to ask for a sprinkle of crushed cookies on top.”

Y/N ordered her drink then purposefully took a seat next to Steve, across from Bucky.

“Hello boys,” she said, feigning confidence.

“So,” Steve said, nudging her with his elbow, “does this mean you’ll be serenading us now when we ask?”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“And, is it just acoustic guitar, or do you play anything else?” Sam asked.

“Keyboard, maybe?”

“What about a tambourine?”

“No, Sam.” Y/N tilted her head and smiled. “But I can tell you just where to shove that tambourine -”

“Here’s your drink, Y/N.” Isaac, one of the cafe’s best baristas and a true angel, handed her the warm beverage. “Ingrid and I were hoping you’d be sharing another story or poem today.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, raising his hand. “Did you say poem?”

“You write poems?” Sam grinned.

Y/N could feel her cheeks redden. She avoided their eyes, especially Bucky’s.

“Thank you for the drink, Isaac. I’ll talk with you and Ingrid in a bit.”

“But we wanna know about the poetry,” Steve whispered as Isaac walked away.

“No,” Y/N said firmly.

She couldn’t help but steal a glance at Bucky. He was staring intently at her. Y/N hid her face behind her purple mug, pretending she hadn’t looked at him. Was it believable that the drink was making her face flushed? She really hoped so.

She wasn’t trying to ignore Bucky. On the contrary, she wanted more than anything to talk to him. She missed the nights in Wakanda where they would sit together and share stories by the fire. She missed pizza with him. She missed teasing him and getting him to cook for her. She missed their friendship before the Blip and the few good weeks after he came back.

And then he just disappeared. She only knew he was okay because Steve and Sam let her know he was still alive. Unfortunately, even they had no answers to why he suddenly began avoiding her.

“Seriously though,” Sam said, “you sounded really good up there. Didn’t she, Buck?”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t know what to say or if he should even say anything.

Y/N cleared her throat as she pretended to check her phone. “Well, it was lovely to see you all, but I have to get going.”

“Your drink just got here though.” Steve motioned to her still steaming mug.

She slid it in front of him, “You can have it, I need to be back in Salem early tomorrow.”

Before anyone could speak up, Y/N pulled on her coat and waved goodbye as she lugged her guitar case towards the entrance. Bucky frowned as he watched her disappear into the night.

“I hate that teleporting thing,” Sam huffed. “It always feels like cheating somehow.”

Their table remained silent. A man and woman were on stage now, singing a duet that had the whole crowd bobbing their heads and swaying to their music. Isaac and Ingrid were whispering and laughing together behind the counter. A group of four college aged boys entered the cafe, peeling their snowy gloves off their pink hands as they anxiously examined the menu, eager for something to warm them.

“What was the point of this?” Bucky mumbled, his eyes closed.

“We didn’t think she would just leave,” Steve said.

“Like I did?” Bucky opened his eyes and glared at his two friends.

Sam and Steve looked down at their empty mugs. They both knew what he was hinting at. Y/N had good reason to not want to speak to Bucky. He had kissed her. Then he disappeared without a word.

Bucky stood up and pushed in his chair. “I’m going home.”

They didn’t try to stop him when he left. They looked at each other, each bearing an expression of concern, one that said they hoped they didn’t just make a mistake.

The french doors of her room open, the green and ivory curtains dancing in the autumn breeze. The faint sound of traffic four stories below had helped keep her mind from spiralling in the lonely quiet of her small Manhattan apartment. Y/N dug herself deeper into the crisp white comforter on her bed, hoping sleep could help tame the thoughts swarming her mind like a cloud of locusts.

Five months later, and the knot in her chest ached just as much as it did that night. The embarrassment still felt brand new. She thought about the pier. She could see him standing next to her, closer than he had been when they first stopped to look out at the waves in the moonlight. He smelled like coffee and leather. She remembered the way his blue eyes looked into hers and made her breath catch in her throat. The cool leather of his gloves against her flushed cheeks. Then the warmth when their lips finally…

Y/N buried her face into her pillow and screamed. No, she thought, No more thinking about that! She quickly threw her blankets off of her and stomped to her kitchen for a glass of water.

Her bare feet padded along the cool oak floors as she paced the length of her kitchen. From behind a curtain of faux ivy, an oval clock above her dining table read 3am. She counted four hours - no, four and a half hours since she saw him. Four and a half hours since they saw each other for the first time in months and said nothing.

As she wrapped herself in a warm fleece blanket and sunk into the maroon cushions of her couch, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what he had been thinking that night. Had he planned on seeing her? Did he want to talk to her, or were Steve and Sam meddling? Did he think about her as much as she thought about him?

With a sigh, Y/N shut her eyes and rested her head on a couch pillow. She was too exhausted; physically and emotionally. It was too late at night to worry and relive all that hurt. She promised herself that when the sun rose in the morning, she’ll head over to Steve’s and pry the truth from him. In the meantime, she let her mind drift into better memories as she slowly drifted to sleep.

Bucky knew he should be paying attention, or at least try to pretend to be paying attention, but his mind was too occupied at the moment. The night at the cafe kept playing over and over in his mind, her face more bright and more clear the longer he thought about her. He was busy imagining all the things he should have said to her when Dr. Raynor cleared her throat.

“Sergeant Barnes,” she said as she tapped her pen on her clipboard. “What’s keeping your mind so occupied today?”

He shifted his weight. The blue sofa in Dr. Raynor’s office was too soft, it made Bucky like he was sinking into quicksand. He kept his eyes focused on something outside the office’s window.

“Nothing,” he said.

Dr. Raynor sighed, “Barnes, do I need to remind you again why you’re here -”

“No,” Bucky sighed. “You don’t.”

“Then, talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You’re frowning more than usual,” Dr. Raynor smirked.

“It’s the couch.” Bucky said flatly, crossing his arms.

“Maybe the color of the couch?” A knowing smile danced across Dr. Raynor’s face.

Bucky pursed his lips, “No.”

“Did you see her?”

“No.”

“That’s a yes.”

With another sigh, Bucky leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “We didn’t talk,” he said finally.

“And why not?” Dr. Raynor��s expression was full of genuine concern. It was a miracle he had let Y/N’s existence slip during one of their first sessions, it was obvious this girl was important to him.

“Wrong place, wrong time.”

“Then where would the right place be or the right time?”

Bucky buried his face into his hands and groaned, “I don’t know, but that wasn’t it.”

“What would you say to her if the time and the place were right?”

“There’s nothing I can say.”

“Nothing at all?”

Without a word, Bucky stood up and leaned against the office window. There really was nothing he could say to her. How would he even begin to explain?

“You have feelings for this girl,” Dr. Raynor continued. “That much is obvious. Based on what I have gathered from what little you have told me, and what I already know about her due to her family’s public presence, she’s a good one. There are no words that do Y/N Stark justice, she’s a selfless creature with endless love and compassion for all. It would be hard for anyone to get to know her and not fall in love.”

Bucky shifted his weight, “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. It’s written on your face when you hear her name. Is this not the same girl who waited those five years for you during the Blip?”

“She didn’t wait for me. She and Steve were trying to get everyone back-”

“She never moved on.” Dr. Raynor and Bucky locked eyes.

“There was nothing to move on from.”

Dr. Raynor laughed, “I doubt that, or else you wouldn’t be so smitten.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and looked back out the window.

“She didn’t move on. I doubt she has now, or else you’d have more than a frown on your face. She waited for you, Barnes. She searched for you. How long are you going to keep her waiting?”

He turned back to Dr. Raynor, shaking his head. “I can’t.”

“You can’t what, Sergeant?”

Bucky hesitated. It was one thing to think these things, another to say them aloud. “She’s so good, and bright, and lovable. She’s done nothing but good and then I’m… I have these things that will always haunt me. I have a past. I’ll never be…”

“I have a feeling she doesn’t see any of that,” Dr. Raynor said with a gentle smile.

“I killed her grandparents.”

“That wasn’t you.”

“Yes, it was.”

“It was a twisted, memoryless shadow of you.” She took off her glasses and massaged her temples. “How long are you going to let these chances slip by? Stark is a good thing, she is good for you. And you keep running away. You can’t run forever. Good things won’t wait around forever.”

Bucky didn’t respond. He didn’t want to let go of Y/N. He didn’t like the distance he put between them. The problem was that he didn’t know what the right thing to do was anymore. Being with her felt selfish, undeserved, but being without her was miserable.

“Barnes, just go to her. Tell her everything. That girl doesn’t deserve to wait any longer,” Dr. Raynor sighed. She tossed her clipboard and pen down onto the table in front of her. “And get a haircut, that might help you.”

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hertzwritings · 2 years

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Strays

A/N: WELCOME TO FLUFFY/SMUTTY WEEKEND In this house, we do smut and fluff and requests all weekend (and Mondays) long, and what better way to finish Sunday but with Bucky fluff? I say NONE. Thank you to my absolute favorite pastry chef in the world, @buckyshattergirl who inspired this fic – she downright almost co-wrote it. I love you and thank you for listening to my rambling!

You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized drablle, one-shot or multichapter fic – the sky is the limit for the content!

I love y’all so much and thank you so much for sticking with me. I cannot believe that so many of you read my brainfarts and loves them as much as I do. I really can’t thank you guys enough. Remember, feedback feeds the soul and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me, and I have none.

MASTERLIST

SEBASTIAN STAN MASTERLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: fluff, language, slight angst, mentions of the fostercare system

Wordocunt: 2.588

Strays

Bucky was many things, most of all intimidating. He knew that. He knew that people walked to the other side of the road, when he walked, he knew they feared the arm, he mostly kept covered, he knew they feared him breaking and going absolutely apeshit.

He relished in it as much as he hated it – he hated that he scared people but liked that he wasn’t approached in the same way as Steve or Sam was - he was mostly fine with being alone. Mostly.

Which was why he was truly confused when he came home one day to three teenagers sitting on his couch, eating his food and in unison went ‘sup, dude? – when he left the home, he shared with Y/N, there had been zero teenagers, one cat with one eye and Y/N with a devious smile. He had found her in the office, where she had pretended to be extremely cavalier about the whole thing; she had smiled at him in the way, she always had, and asked about his day.

“Y/N…” “What?” She was trying to hide her smile, he knew it, and what’s worse was that he had such a hard time standing against that damn look. Her eyes would shine with mischief and her lower lip would jut out, her nose wrinkled, and he would be lost. The everlasting issue with falling in love with your best friend and roommate, he supposed. “Why are there three strange teenagers on our couch?” “Oh, I didn’t tell you?” No, she sure as shit didn’t. “You know damn well you didn’t.” She smiled again and did that thing with her eyes. “Oh no, you don’t, you ain’t getting out of this one that easy, doll.” She whined. “Fine. Just know that it’s for a good cause.” “Doll…” She sighed and leaned against the desk. “Okay so I may or may not have signed up for fostercare, and I may or may not have agreed to take those three in.” “Which means you definitely did sign up and definitely did take them in.” He rubbed his face. “Does the foster-office know who’s living here with you?” he asked, a little scared that she either lied or lied some more. “Of course I did, I’m not an idiot. I just…” She sighed and gave him the biggest eyes, she ever had, which was saying something. He thought they had reached the limit when she “accidentally” had brought home seven stray cats. “I just had a little help, is all. Besides, all they care about is having a stable home for them.” He sighed. “And I’m a part of that stability?” She shrugged and got up, gently patting his shoulder. “You’re part of my stability, Buck.” She left the room and yelled from the stairwell. Goddamnit.

“Dinner’s in twenty!”

And that’s where it started. Three teenagers on his couch. Both him and Y/N had always been what they liked to call “stray-collectors”, and that had translated to more than just animals. He honestly didn’t really mind. He supposed they all were – in some way or another – a little broken, and the ragtag group of weirdos they had collected in the home, seemed to slowly glue the pieces together.

Y/N was born to do this. She was kind, understanding and clearly meant to wrangle a lot of people – he wasn’t too surprised about that, since she had wrangled the majority of the Avengers, every time they had to do anything – but it was so different to watch her do it with these kids. Even more had joined, and even though Bucky grumbled about space every time, he didn’t mind one bit. Their house was more than big enough.

The youngest of the bunch and the newest one was Marci, a 6-year-old girl with flaming red pigtails who had a dinosaur practically glued in her hand. She wanted nighttime cuddles, at least three different stories and the lights on, but only if it came from the Winnie the Pooh nightlight. She had night-terrors, calling out for her mom, and Bucky spent a lot of nights in her bed, just holding her. James was the second-to-youngest, 9 years old and pretty much Bucky’s twin. He liked to do just a little damage everywhere he went, always with a glint in his eye. He kept candybars under his pillow, just in case, he had told Bucky once. He didn’t question it further. Willow was one of the first teenagers, Y/N had brought home. She was 13 and the coolest kid, Bucky had ever known – she was just as tough as him, always with scraped knees from falling from her skateboard and a glare ready. Unless the lights were out. She had nightmares, and Bucky sometimes stayed up for hours to talk to her and coax her down. Sometimes, she could only fall asleep holding his hand. Peter was the weirdest, funniest kid, Bucky had ever met. Like his namesake, Peter Parker, he was wild and sometimes teenage-dumb, which caused a lot of commotion in the house. He tried to cook a few times and managed to burn boiling potatoes. He was 16 and he hated sleeping on the bed. Bucky found him several times just wandering from room to room to check on everybody else and make sure everyone was safe. Garrett was 17 and a tough guy on the outside. He was all muscle – as much as a 17-year-old could have – and had a nose for lies. He had a bullshit detector that went through the roof, but he was the worst liar. He couldn’t stand physical touch.

The bunch of kids had somehow softened Bucky, who didn’t know that was even a possibility. Well, Y/N had softened him at first, then came Alpine, the cat with a missing eye, but he was pretty sure there wasn’t anything more to get soft. He had been wrong.

He had watched Y/N read to the smallest ones and coax some of the elder kids out of panic attacks. He had carried her to bed when she fell asleep in one of the kid’s rooms, after they had a nightmare. She baked endless cookies and pies, anything to make them feel at home, and if he thought he was in love before, he had been very wrong. He was very in love with her. It didn’t help when she asked if they could move into the same room to open up a space for a set of twins; he had coughed, almost choking on his own spit, but had agreed because why wouldn’t he? It wouldn’t be the first time they shared a bed, nor would it be the last. So, to make space for Winnie and Marlow – the twins who were 10 and rambunctious but hated to wear clothes their size – he had moved into Y/N’s room, where he stayed. They talked many nights about the kids, and he even took up reading parenting-books, just to make sure he did it right. Not that he saw himself as a parent, but still. They would cuddle at night, and the scent of Y/N’s hair would calm his own nightmares, the way her body just melted into his at night, her hand on his chest, made even the worst of the nightmares feel bearable.

Marci had begun calling him dad.

He liked it. Liked someone – or several someones – trusting him. Liked the house when it was full of noise, chatter and dishes breaking (with a loud SORRY from Peter right after). He liked helping with homework (how did math change since the 40’s!?). He liked having a family.

Which is why he completely accidentally one night brought three kittens’ home. He stood in the doorway, grinning guiltily at Y/N – he was dripping down into a large puddle of rainwater, the cats mewing in his arms. She had turned to face him, wearing an apron, the kids had made for her birthday, and folded her arms. “What are those?” she asked with a barely concealed smile. “Cats.” He said matter-of-factly. “Buck, we barely have room for one, and you’ve brought home three more?” “What did you want me to do, let them get wet?” he asked indignantly. “They were mewing in a box, Y/N, I couldn’t just leave them!” “Fine. But you’re in charge of the litterbox.” She turned back to the stove, stirring a giant pot of gumbo to feed the small army in the house. “You’re the best.” He kissed her cheek. “You’re wet.” He didn’t miss the blush on her cheeks.

It was kind of weird, the family they had made without really being a family. He took the three oldest to therapy, whenever they had their appointments and waited in the car with snacks and Gatorade – their preferred colors, of course – and always returned home with all three giving him a giant hug. They weren’t scared of the arm, or his past. The youngest had begun simply hanging from his arms, giggling loudly when he carried them around, doing everyday tasks. “Buck, you’re 107, maybe you should stop?” Y/N had told him as she combed Willow’s hair and braided it. He had scoffed. “Never.” Then it became a challenge. He knew he was big and muscular, but he did his very best to get even bigger, simply so he could carry 4 kids and two grocery bags with his non-bionic arm. Just because. it didn’t hurt that he saw Y/N’s breath hitch and the way she sucked her lower lip in between her teeth whenever he did it. The teenagers thought it was hilarious too, mostly because he could also carry them – or at least lift them – with his bionic arm. Sam called him a human tree once.

Despite the animosity that had lingered between Tony and Bucky, Tony was pretty much a benefactor and cool uncle to the household. Even though Y/N didn’t work for Tony anymore, he still paid her – and a lot more than he did when she did work for him – because he wanted to. That way, he made sure that Y/N only did consulting work and could stay with the kids for as long as they needed her. All of the Avengers were becoming extended family for the kids and Y/N and Bucky. It was kind of fun, having barbeques in their yard, the weird mix of stray people without anyone else, all crammed against a rickety table Bucky had managed to build. It felt oddly comforting, seeing that many people laughing, joking and taking care of each other. Natascha was teaching the girls how to do self-defense, while Sam had starting using red wing to deliver late-night messages to the kids. Steve kicked around Hacky sacks with the eldest kids. Wanda read stories to the youngest. Willow didn’t wake up with nightmares as much anymore. Peter had stopped looking into every room at night. Winnie and Marlow were beginning to be okay with wearing the right size of clothing.

Bucky felt more at ease every day. Once, he spotted bags and bags of fridge-magnets when he was shopping and stuffed about 60 dollars’ worth of them in his cart. When he poured them on the table, all of the kids had giggled in joy and they all began sticking them to his arm. Y/N had watched with the softest smile on her lips.

It became routine with the magnets; if they were having a bad day, they’d tug on his sleeve and he’d simply tear the sleeve off (which made Y/N lose it; Buck, I cannot keep fixing your shirts, for heaven’s sake!) and sit down, letting them write out whatever they wanted. It helped them get their feelings out without trashing something – or themselves – which seemed like a healthier way to go about it. Only problem was that Bucky sometimes forgot they were there and that the sleeve of his shirt was not, because he couldn’t feel right with the arm at any rate. That had led to some worrisome shopping trips, where his arm had been plastered in suck my ass and cock and titties, which the older women in the shop did not appreciate.

Y/N laughed at it, and he grumbled about it, but the magnets went back to the fridge every time, ready for the next time they needed it.

Marci could sleep with the lights out, and James had begun sharing his candybars. Y/N held his hand at night, kissing the knuckles. He kissed her forehead every morning. Garrett stopped fighting in school when Bucky brought him to boxing – they had some time together, simply punching away at bags, and Garrett had told Bucky that he felt like Bucky was his cool stepdad. That almost made Bucky cry. If anyone asked about the wet cheeks, they saw nothing. When Christmas rolled around, Y/N and Bucky had cried their eyes out at the gifts, the kids had made for them. Bucky got a macaroni-necklace from Winnie and a matching bracelet from Marlow, and he never took them off. Y/N had been bestowed with a book of stories about a pig (drawn by James) called Y/N who went on adventures with her piglets in the magic forest (drawn by Marci). The teenagers had all made two matching family-calendars with pictures of the bunch for both Bucky and Y/N. The kids themselves had been showered with gifts, all of the Avengers apparently thought of them as much as their kids, as Bucky and Y/N did. Peter had gotten a lab-set from Bruce, from which he managed to make something explode within the hour. Marci got a robot-dinosaur from Tony that responded to voice commands and had a very realistic voice-box. James got several books from Wanda, while Willow got several cool jackets from Nat (FUCK yes, Auntie Nat is the best), Garrett got old-school boxing-gloves from Steve and Winnie got a star named after her from Vision, who explained exactly how the star was discovered. Marlow got toys from Asgard from Thor, just to name a few.

Y/N had gotten Bucky a kiss.

Bucky had gotten her a ring.

When Garrett got accepted into college on a boxing-scholarship, Bucky had almost torn the house in two from excitement. Y/N had cried about him leaving home so soon, but Garrett had hugged her and told her, that Tony said that he always had the jet at the ready for his favorite sportsman. When Willow won her first skate-competition, the entire family had cheered from the bleachers, all of them rushing to hug her tightly and she had sobbed, whispering how great it was to finally have a home. Bucky found a dog on the street and brought it home – Marlow, Marci and James named it Ragtag. Y/N had hugged him and berated him lightly. “You know we’re running out of space, right?” He shrugged. “Yeah, well…” He kissed her cheek, just like he did with the cats.

When they decided to adopt all of the kids as their own, Bucky realized that it wouldn’t be enough to just be sort of free from nightmares. It wouldn’t be enough to read the parenting books or drive them to therapy, or even hold them when they cried. He needed to fix himself, as well.

So, when he showed up to Dr. Raynor’s office with a scowl, she met him with a knowing smirk.

“My girl is fostering kids. I wanna do better.” “Your girl?” “Shuddup.” She chuckled dryly at that.

“Well, then. Off we go.”

----------------

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himarisolace · 4 years

Note

Top 5 Pastries

Top 5 Museums

Top 5 OTPs

Top 5 Books

Top 5 Fics (any fandom)

omg thanks for asking :)))

Top 5 pastries would be

1. Cinnamonbun (a the perfect snack for every moment)

2. Baklava (just wow, though allergic to it)

3. Carrot cake

4.Pain au choclat

5. Apfelstrudel (the first time i tried this i understood the meaning of life)

Top 5 museums -(sadly havent been to many, mostly smaller ones which the names ive totally forgotten) so added buildings and architecture I appreciate.

1. Pergamon, Berlin (History and sculptures from diffrent parts of the world and cultures...immaculete.)

2. World of leonardo, Milan (Interesting idea, you really get further insight to leonardo da vinci’s mind as an artist and inventor)

3. East side gallery-(not a museum)

4. galleria vittorio emanuele ii -(not a museum)

5. La sagrada familia -(never been, not a museum anymore??)

Top 5 OTPs- this is hard

1. Destiel/Dean + Castiel. Supernatural

2. Victor + Yuuri. Yuri!!! on ice/

3. Feysand/Rhysand and Feyre. Acotar/maf/war.

4. Garcia and Morgan. Criminal Minds. ( I mean come on? babyyy girl)

5. Will Turner andd Elizabeth Swan. Pirates of the Caribean. (powerful, stunning, showstopping)

extra; me and spencer reid.......:D

Top 5 Books

1. Warcross, Marie Lu - This book is unique compared to other books ive read. The concept of a futuristic world/game, the mystery and love just oof. (the second book is currently ending me)

2. Caraval- This one and Warcross could share presonal top 1, its aestheticly pleasing to read??? Your eally have to think through the game abd the people. Plot twist, the most beutifull kiss scene ever to be writen and not to mention the sesetting of time combined with the game.

3. A court of thornes and roses series, Sarah J Maas- elite fantasy writter (read it before tog)

4. Throne of glass series, Sarah J Maas- Not finished, though the build up and characters are *chef’s kiss’ ((btw want to slap chaol in the face with a book thnx))

5. The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins- to be honest it is probably not the best book, Its real and I wouldnt be the same if I hadnt read it.

Top 5 fics

I read to many at 3 am so totally forget the names of them, resulting in an never ending search of certain fics.

Started reading a Loki x reader series and may i say it shouldve been a published book. Around 30 chapters, about reader helping Loki saving the world, avenger familiy and a slowburn...yes. Cant for the life of me remember the name though.

Something with kitten and skylady, Mischeif accomplished?

Here are a good read though

Spencer Reid x reader- Sleepless nights ( live for this one)

Top people/universes to read about

- Loki

-Criminal minds, Spencer Reid

- Peter Parker (to no suprise)

- 6 underground, 4

- Steve Rogers

- Bucky Barnes

- Marvel in general

Thanks again for asking and god this was way to long of an answer, sorry

had fun though

#criminal minds #marvel #peter parker #bucky #steve rogers #loki #6 underground #fanfic #otp #books #lgbtq #pastries #spencer reid #x reader

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captain-kelli · 3 years

Text

Hey there! 🙋🏻‍♀️

First of all, you’re amazing for using your platform to promote other writers! This is the kind of positivity we need around here.

Here are a couple of my fics. Absolutely no pressure to read both, I just honestly couldn’t decide what to send. 😅 Thank you so much for taking the time! Hope you have a great rest of your week! 💖

Sam AND Bucky?! Don’t mind if I do!

send me your stories

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the--sad--hatter · 5 years

Text

Bloody Roses - Chapter Three (Bucky x Reader)

Bloody Roses - Chapter Three (Bucky x reader)

FANDOM - MARVEL

WARNINGS - SOME BLOOD AND INJURIES, MENTIONS OF NUDITY

SUMMARY - What you thought was a trapped squirrel turned out to be a super soldier in need. It’s not every day an Avenger turns up in your garden, in serious need of help but you deal with it as best as you can.

Masterlist

Chapter Three

You were by no means the worlds best chef but you could cook. Actually, you were pretty damn good. It was usually presentation that you struggled with, not taste. Bucky seemed like someone who appreciated taste more than looks though (you hoped). You never had any reason to actually cook though so you just settled for shoving something in the oven most days. But with Bucky here….

You dug out all the ingredients for shortcrust pastry and made the dough, leaving it to chill in the fridge while you ran back upstairs to shower. It was the fastest shower of your life because you were painfully aware of the fact that he was in your garden.

He had come back.

The happiness you felt from that was impossibly bright and beautiful. It was like walking around with liquid sunshine in your veins, making you feel warm and happy inside. You had wanted him to return and your wish had been granted and he brought with him an optimistic excitement.

You used your favourite shower gel, the one you saved for good days and the more expensive shampoo and conditioners instead of the normal ones. When you were feeling this happy you wanted to feel it in everything you did so you made sure to treat your body, lavishing it with care so it felt as light and content as your soul did. Still, you didn’t linger.

You tied your damp hair into a messy plait as you skipped downstairs, peeking out of the windows into the backyard as you went. He had his back to the windows as he sanded down the edges of a plank of wood and added to the pile. The comically large pile.

You knocked on the glass and opened the window a crack so you could hear each other.

“So exactly how long have you been skulking around my property while I slept?” You asked, waving to the planks of dark cherry wood.

“Four and a half hours?” He shrugged.

You raised an eyebrow at him and he had the grace to look somewhat sheepish but the truth was, you got it. If it was anyone else it would be creepy and strange but it was him. There was an ease and comfort there that meant him wandering around and building furniture didn’t feel weird at all. It felt like he belonged here.

“How many bookshelves are you building?” You asked him, grinning.

“Well you have a lot of books and I only saw two rooms.” He answered.

It was your turn to look sheepish and he grinned at you.

“You do have more books than I saw!” He accused.

“I like books ok?” You said slamming the window closed and pouting and flouncing out of sight theatrically.

“I like books as well.” He said as soon as you walked into the kitchen and you yelped and jumped back out of the room.

“Did you run across the yard to meet me in the kitchen and scare me?” You demanded, peering around the doorframe.

He was sat casually on one of the stools at the kitchen island, legs crossed at the ankle and arms folded like he’d been there a while.

“No.” He scoffed.

You gave him your best ‘mom look’ until he cracked a grin and admitted what he’d done.

“I didn’t do it to scare you, that was a bonus.”

“Don’t make me call Captain Rogers to come and get you again.” You threatened, shaking your head in mock disappointment as you switched the oven on to preheat.

“I’m sorry! I’ll behave.” He protested, the grin tugging at his lips letting you know he wasn’t really worried.

“Hmm.” You pretended to consider it.

“Think of the bookshelves!” He tried.

“I will get over my fear of that buzzsaw eventually you know.” You grumbled.

“Will you?” He challenged, calling your bluff.

You stared him down for all of three seconds.

“No.” You huffed and stomped over to the fridge, pulling out your bowl of chilled pastry dough and setting it on the counter.

He immediately prodded at it through the clingfilm and you slapped his hand away.

“Is that cinnamon?” He asked, sniffing it.

“Yes? Is that a problem? Do you not like cinnamon?” You asked worriedly.

“I like it. What are you making?” He asked.

“It’s a pie crust. I’m making apple pie.” You explained.

“Steve’s gonna be so jealous.” He said smugly, almost to himself.

You moved around, pulling out the things you needed while he watched the way you moved around, stepping over Othello as you went.

“It’s not going to be ready for a couple of hours you know.” You told him in bemusement as you rolled out the dough.

“That’s ok, I like watching you.” He said easily.

“Do you now? You didn’t sneak into my room and watch me sleep did you?” You asked, smirking at him.

“Is the woman who stripped me naked while I was unconscious really accusing me of being inappropriate while she was sleeping?”

“Hey! It was for your own good! And I didn’t look.” You defended yourself, threatening him with the rolling pin for emphasis.

“Stark said to tell you that if you took pictures he’ll pay you to leak them online.” He informed you, frowning at the message he was passing along.

“First of all, wow. Second of all, Tony Stark wants to see you naked? Third of all… thirdly of all? Having Bucky Barnes pass along a message from Tony Stark is surreal.” You said, crinkling your nose as you carefully placed the dough in the greased pie tin and smoothed it into place, cutting around the edges to make it nice and neat.

“And Banner told me to ask you to never ever attempt to stitch anybody up ever again.” He added.

That made you chuckle apologetically because you honestly felt bad but it was still hilarious. Bruce banner did not approve of your botched attempts at administering medical care. It was so surreal it was downright hysterical.

“You healed alright though? Right?” You asked worriedly.

“I healed fine thanks to you, no matter what anyone says. You’re the one who found me, you’re the one who took care of me.” He said heavily, catching your eye and holding your gaze.

“Technically Othello found you.” You tried to deflect, uncomfortable with the way he was looking at you.

Like you were something special, something wonderful. You weren’t wonderful at all.

“I remember hearing him and thinking that Hydra had found me. Then I saw you and…”

“And what?” You asked, covering the pie crust with a baking sheet and pouring rice on top of it to weigh the dough down before you put it into the oven to blind bake.

“You told me to stop bleeding on your flowers. I didn’t know what was going on but I was on edge and trying not to pass out. I just remember your voice, begging me to let you help me. Hydra never asked permission, they never offer help. I don’t know how I knew for sure it wasn’t a trick, I just did. I just trusted you to help me and you did.”

“Anybody would have done it. For every sick Hydra agent in the world there are a thousand normal people who when faced with the chance, will choose to do good.” You assured him.

“Maybe. I hope so. But of all the people whose garden I could have wandered into, I’m glad it was yours.” He said emphatically.

“Why?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

“I forgot things like this still existed. People like you. Where it’s normal and safe.” He admitted.

You thought about what little you knew about his life, his long and painful life. He’d been lost in a war and taken by the enemy, broken and abused and when decades later, he got free, he went straight back into the fight. It must have been a long time since Bucky met someone who’s biggest concern was whether their roses got trampled. His decision to come back and build bookshelves made a hell of a lot more sense now that you had thought it through.

“This house… I bought it because I thought I could make it into a home. A haven, away from the world. I didn’t realise how much work was going to go into it, how much fucking carpentry.” You said and he had the gall to laugh at the derision in your tone.

“But it’s calm and peaceful and serene here.” You sighed dreamily.

“It is.” He agreed. “I could help.” He added abruptly.

“Help?”

“What I’m saying is there’s a lot to be built here, if you wanted help with that. After all, that’s what Avengers do isn’t it? Assemble?” He joked, making you let out a surprised, horrifically girlish giggle at the pun.

“I’m sorry are you… are you moonlighting as a handyman?” You asked him.

“Only for you doll, your very own one handed handyman. Whenever I’m not on mission I could come around, help out.” He offered.

You wanted to tell him he didn’t need to do anything, he was welcome to come around without having to earn a place but you didn’t know how he would take it. And besides, he was practically bouncing in his seat with excitement, his eyes alight with eagerness. Your eyes flitted over his hands and you wondered how often he got to use them to create something, to build rather than destroy.

“Alright.” You agreed.

“Really?” He asked, despite it being his suggestion he looked taken aback that you’d agreed to it.

You nodded. His shock melted into happiness and you noticed the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners when he smiled , inadvertently leaning closer to him. He had come back, and it wouldn’t be the last time apparently.

“Ok. Well I’m going to get back to those bookshelves. I can’t exactly slack off on my first day on the job.” He said, wiping his hands on his jeans nervously as he stood and looked to you for approval.

“I’ll be in here if you need anything.” You told him, gathering all your ingredients for the pie.

“Come on boy.” He said to Othello and you gaped as your dog padded after him, tail wagging.

Apparently Othello had found something he liked more than food… Bucky Barnes company. You couldn’t even blame the fickle canine.

As you boiled the maple syrup to 120 degrees (Celsius) and warmed the double cream to make the caramel, you felt light and airy with the happiness that had settled over you.

“Are you allergic to nuts?” You called out of the window when there was a break in the sawing.

“No?” He called back.

You slowly stirred in the cream with the syrup and added the butter before you set the caramel aside to cool next to the pie crust and started thinly slicing the McIntosh apples, probably eating about two whole apples worth of slices as you worked. Once you were done you layered the slices, caramel and pecans inside the pie crust and used the leftover dough to cover it all up before putting it in the oven.

That was when you started trying to come up with reasons to go outside without making it seem as if you were checking up on Bucky. Because you weren’t. Checking Bucky out… Yes, but checking up on.

Othello’s food bowl still had biscuits in it. Presumably Bucky had taken it upon himself to feed him this morning, either that or Othello’s IQ had jumped an alarming amount. Whatever the case, that wouldn’t fly as an excuse.

“Aha!” You yelled loudly, remembering Othello wasn’t the only animal you fed on a regular basis.

You grabbed the bag of bird seed from the cupboard and hurried outside, deliberately not gawking at Bucky picking up twice his body weight in wood planks and carrying them over to the porch.

“Hi.” You waved at you wholly uninterested dog as you strode past.

“Doll! Wait!” Bucky called as you walked across the garden.

“I’m just feeding the birds, don’t mind me.” You shouted without turning around.

There was suddenly a metal arm around your waist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Put your hand out in front of you, slowly.” He whispered huskily in your ear.

You swallowed your heart that had leapt into your throat and did as he said, feeling almost dizzy as the scent of freshly cut wood and his own unique musk enveloped you. Your hand met resistance and you squeaked in surprise.

“Drop cloaking device.” Bucky said loudly.

The quinjet shimmered into view, right in front of you and you belatedly realised that you’d been one step from walking into the side of it.

“Well that could have been embarrassing. And painful. But more importantly, embarrassing.” You gulped.

You felt his chest rumble against your back as he chuckled at you and very slowly, let you go. It took every single iota of self-control you had not to pout when he stepped away.

“So… there’s an invisible jet on my lawn.” You said conversationally, like you were commenting on the sunshine.

“Well how do you think I got here?” He asked.

“I thought you drove? My first instinct wasn’t that you took an Avengers jet to come build bookshelves. I can’t believe they let you take a fucking baby plane to run errands.”

“Let?”

“Oh god, you stole it?”

“Borrowed.”

“Am I gonna get in trouble for this?” You asked in concern.

“No, no! You won’t. I promise.” He assured.

“Ok then can I go in it?” You asked hopefully.

“You wanna see inside? And I’m sorry, baby plane?” He asked bemusedly.

“It’s a plane that hasn’t grown up yet, don’t try convincing me otherwise. Can I see inside? Please?” You asked excitedly, tugging on his sleeve and trying to drag him around to where the ramp descended from.

“I’ll do you one better doll… You afraid of flying?”

____________________________________________________________

The fact that so many people seem to like this is really really sweet. Like it makes me feel really warm inside that my little haven is being enjoyed by others. I love you guys xxx

For those who asked about the book mentioned in Chapter Two 'The life of Death'; no it's not a real book. It was just a concept I played with a few years ago that never made the cut.

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#Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #The Winter Soldier #the winter soldier x reader #bucky fluff #Bucky series #The Avengers #the avengers x reader

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wintersxsoul · 5 years

Text

SO SHOOT US, WE WERE DATING!

Summary: Reverse Fake Dating Undercover Cops! AU

Pairing/s: Bucky x Reader / Steve x Sam / Nat x Sharon

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Tbh we dont know ?? we just love being a mess together I guess,, we had to do it to ‘em. We even made moodboards, enjoy our masterpiece.

A/N: So, two crackheads, aka @trashpanda-barnes and yours truly, decided after a long intense brainstorming session to put this ramblings together to create this crackheadassery show. Buckle up for a part 2 laid ease and gentle ants.

Shay: this was our first time sharing a googledoc and HOLYSHIT technology has come so far, its a miracle Lydia hasn’t killed me yet bc of all the font-changing I kept doing constantly. anyway... we done did a thing, fellas! Our two collective braincells present… this.

Bucky and Y/n have been dating for almost three years, they are both cops in the same squadron, so it’s forbidden for them to date. But they said: fuck this shit and now they even live together, but…. secretly.

Steve is also a cop in the same precinct and he is dating Sam, a pastry chef.

Y/n and Bucky have to infiltrate in a Biker Gang for a case and of course pretend they are not actually in love or anything pfft why would anybody think that?? They are just roommates, right???

They flirt with random members of the gang to avert suspicions and then give advice to each other to make it seem more real.

One day, Bucky accidentally tells Y/n, "You're absolutely right, honey!" and everyone just stares at him so he just...he has to start calling everyone pet names 24/7. It’s his new personality trait so he has to answer with a pet name to even the big boss. “Have a nice day today, James.” Bucky just nods at him smiling, but since everyone is staring at him, he swallows thickly and answers: “You too, sugar.”

Everytime that happens, Y/n is just hollering with Natasha, a member of the gang. Nat is fierce and ruthless, the only one that hasn’t got a pet name. One time Bucky tried, but she just looked him dead in the eye and warned, “don’t.” And that was it. Best day of both girl’s lives at the gang was the day Bucky told Thor, the most dangerous looking dude, “Love your bike, doll.” Thor had smiled widely at that compliment.

The dudes on the gang decided they wanted a bonding moment so they all went to get tacos. They drop Y/n at home and it’s funny to her because Bucky can't get off so he just awkwardly waves goodbye at her in front of the building of THEIR shared apartment. So he just directs them to Steve's place and he’s like "Hey Steve! Can you buzz me in, babe?!" and Steve of course is all "the fuck you on about?! What the hell are you doing here???"

And those big bulky dudes outside are confused and kinda suspicious so Bucky is like "We had a fight.... he's still mad at me" he says like the liar he is. So he tries again and yells at Steve over the buzzer "hEY OPEN UP STEVE, IT’S ME PLEASE WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS, I PROMISE, IM SORRY BABE BUT I AM HOME NOW."

Steve has Sam over, and this was their date night and Steve promised, he promised Sam he’d stop bringing his work home. So he is like "this is not the time, I’m with Sam right n—"

bucky interrupts "SAAAAME YES, I WISH I was with you, same babe same... please buzz me in??" Steve just hangs up like, “goodnight, Bucky”

The dudes are sympathetic and are like.. "sorry your boyfriend ain't letting you in man. Hey, you wanna crash at any of ours?"

So Bucky just sighs and nods, texting Y/n to tell her he’s crashing at this super huge dude’s house, Riley.

Riley looks so fucking frightening but he is actually super soft and lives with his equally soft girlfriend, Aaliah.

And they have two adopted stray dogs. And both of the dogs really take to Bucky.

One is a golden yellow and the other is a soft white. The white one, Bucky notices, is missing a leg.

“Lost it in a car accident”, Riley tells Bucky, “We’re just glad he came out of it alive” And the dog gives Bucky’s face a big fat lick. “What’s he called?” “oh, Winter” and Bucky near-about cries. Y/n’s phone blows up with 500 images of Bucky with the dogs alone. The golden one, Bucky learns is called, Summer.

He's an especially big fan of Riley’s cookies. Riley loves being a part of the gang but he also has a pastry business on the side. Bucky buys a shitton of cookies to take home.

He calls Y/n next morning to tell her they should go to the shelter and adopt as many cats and dogs as they can, and Y/n just sighs because she knows she can’t fight Bucky over this. “Who’ll look after then when we’re at the precinct?” Y/N tries to point out but Bucky is like, “Easy. We just take them to the precinct with us.”

Natasha eventually figures out that they are dating, and interrogates Y/n about their actual purpose in the gang.

Y/n blows up the cover and explains that they are trying to find a gang that sells drugs and that their Captain, Nick Fury, thought they were responsible. After a few months undercover, they realize they all are just soft bikers that like to dress in black leather and chunky boots.

Nat is actually scary, at least that’s what Bucky thinks, but Y/n has seen her with Liho, Nat‘s cat, and she is sure that she just likes to mess with the guys and scare them.

Y/n makes Nat swear not to tell the others yet, and Nat is actually the one who offers a lead about the gang that was actually selling drugs.

“See? if you’d just come clean right up front you wouldn’t have wasted your time chasing the wrong lead” she rebukes Y/n. “But then I’d never have been friends with you, Nat” she nudges Nat’s shoulder and there’s that hint of that signature smile on Nat’s lips.

Y/n tells Bucky about the lead and they decide to shadow that gang on a stakeout and just as Nat had suggested, they catch the actual culprits red-handed, bringing the case to a close.

Thor and Riley are devastated when Bucky comes clean and tells them he has to leave them. “but we can walk our dogs together every morning, Riley!”

Once the case is closed, Bucky and Y/n decide to tell everyone that they’ve been dating for a few years and their squadron just sigh loudly.

Sharon is like, “What? We still gotta pretend we didn’t know? oh okay.”

“You guys KNEW?” “Of course we did,” Tony shakes his head, as he mockingly says, “oh my god they were roommates.”

Clint just sadly passes Fury a tenner. “I bet that you’d keep it a secret for five years.” he shakes his head at them, “I trusted you guys. But look at me, I’m poor now!” “what did Fury bet?” Bucky asks curiously. “that you’d mess up before this month ends.” Fury says before going back into his office.

Steve just glares at Sam once they find out, mouthing a “shut up” when his boyfriend tells him all proudly “I told you they were fucking!”.

Sam and Riley became good friends when they discovered their shared passion.

So they all live happily ever after, especially Bucky, cause he got to eat Riley’s cookies almost every morning while they walked Winter, Summer and Storm, his and Y/n’s puppy.

Y/n and Natasha became inseparable and thanks to that, Sharon and Nat started dating.

As Bucky said, they take the puppy to the precinct, everyone falling in love with the little fur ball. Y/n hates to admit it, but she adores Storm. And a few months later, she convinces Bucky to adopt a black cat. “Isn’t Storm gonna be jealous? Or what if they start fighting?” Y/n of course just shrugs and ignores Bucky’s protests. “they’ll keep each other company when we’re at work. Otherwise Storm will get lonely. And sad. Do you want to see Storm sad?” “No,” Bucky pouts, “fine we’re getting a cat. We’re proper parents now, doll. Whaddya say to that?” “We should buy stuff for them then, Detective... and who knows we might even have to get married?”

Bucky just smiles. He has the perfect proposal planned. Soon.

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writingismyhappytime · 7 years

Text

Bucky Barnes (Part 3)

Bucky Barnes x Reader (eventually)

Warnings: Language, chinese food, awkwardness, gossip

"I told you you could trust her."

Steve looks over at Bucky, frowning as he looks away from his window of contemplation; it helps him think to look out the window at the city, what's left of it anyway.

Bucky had seen you stop the spear, he'd seen you save Steve for once.

"Yeah, you did," Steve mutters, looking back out the glass. His arms are crossed, and he's troubled. Why had Hydra been there, had they gotten whatever was in that cave first? If so, what had it been? Had it just been a ruse to try to take them out?

If it hadn't been for you, they would have very nearly succeeded.

And yet... something didn't sit right.

You'd become separated from the group, fallen behind, and then captured in a net? You have an extremely helpful power, and you couldn't get out of a few bits of rope? Hydra had intercepted him and Bucky in the jungle, and Stark had been the only one able to get out of the scuffle to find you.

Something just... it didn't make sense.

Are you one of them? he wonders.

Had he walking into your bakery somehow been set up, is he being tricked? Is he letting you into the Avengers but are you really a Hydra agent?

Lord knows it happens.

You could be out to destroy everyone ---.

"Steve."

"Huh?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," Steve mumbles, turning away from the window. He paces over to the kitchen area, grabbing himself a glass of water. Oddly, Bucky is very supportive of you, and Steve doesn't want to voice his concerns without evidence to back him up; he hopes he's wrong and being suspicious for no reason. "Just going over the mission in my head, about how much it doesn't make sense."

"What's not to make sense?" Bucky sighs. "We got dooped. They lured us out there to try to kill us."

"Did they?" Steve shakes his head, turning off the tap. "It just doesn't feel right."

"Nothing does with you. You overthink everything."

"How else can I keep everyone alive?"

"When they're so hellbent on getting themselves killed? Your guess is as good as mine."

Bucky tilts his head back as he hears a knock at his door, and his feet drop from their propped position on the coffee table. He gets up reluctantly, ambling over to the door and opening it.

He blinks.

He leans out into the hallway, but he doesn't see anyone.

Odd.

Why did someone knock on his door and then leave?

He glances down, hesitating as he sees a small package, Barnes scrawled across it in sharpie. He squats, glancing behind him at where Steve is still preoccupied with mulling over his tap water.

Bucky nudges the package, and when it doesn't spontaneously combust, he opens it.

Oh.

He blinks, staring down at the strawberry shortcake looking back up at him. He stares down at it for a moment, taken off guard.

You'd baked him a cake?

Why would you do that?

He stares at it for a few more moments, as if waiting for it to disappear or change into something else. When it stays the same, he quickly replaces the lid, gingerly lifting it up into the safety of his arms.

"Steve, I'm leaving."

Before his friend can respond, Bucky steps out of the apartment.

He can't eat this cake alone, and he knows exactly who he wants to share it with.

~~~~~

"I made that for you, not me."

"I know." Barnes stands at the door of your apartment, the box of cake held in his large hands. You stare up at him rather curiously, your hand still on the door.

That's... awful nice of him.

To want to share with you.

You're not one to turn down free cake, even if it is one you gifted to someone else. You're not sure why you gave it to him, why you even went through the trouble of baking it. You just... couldn't sleep last night, so of course you'd made your way down to the kitchen, somewhere you enjoy being.

And, somehow, you'd ended up making strawberry shortcake.

You take a step back, allowing Bucky to enter your apartment. He heads for the kitchen area, as all the apartments are built the same. He sits the cake on the table identical to his own, lifting the lid off. Admittedly, his mouth is watering, and he's incredibly excited to try the cake. It's been all he can do not to run his finger along the edge of it.

"I'll grab some plates," you step by him, heading for the cabinets. Bucky looks over at you, watching how your t shirt rises to reveal your lower back as you reach up, grabbing two small plates. He can't help but notice this is the first time he's ever seen your legs, that you're wearing those little pajama shorts women wear these days. You turn, grabbing some forks out of the dish drain before setting everything on the table.

You nab a knife from a drawer, and present it to Barnes. "You have the honor, it's your cake."

He nods his head, quickly turning. Of course, he knows he's going to make a mess out of your cake, that it won't be pretty by the time he's done cutting it. However, he supposes, cake is for eating, not decoration.

You sit down, watching as Bucky cuts the cake, looking as excited at a child. You prop your chin on your hand, absently tugging on a loose strand of your hair. You always keep it up and out of your way, you don't even know why you leave it so long, it's never down. You suppose it must just be a habit from cooking, you always try to keep it out of the way.

Barnes clumsily puts the cake on the plates, and then sits down, reaching quickly for his fork. You smile to yourself, trying not to be obvious. Your fork hovers above your plate, your eyes on him as he takes his first bite.

He actually groans.

You blink.

Is that good?

It certainly makes you want to squirm in your chair, that's for sure.

"Is that a good sign or are you dying?" you ask lightly, liking the flush on his cheeks.

"It's, uh, pretty good. I haven't had one of these since my birthday back in," he hesitates. "1941."

"What?" you stare at him, your fork halfway to your mouth.

"My mom made it for me just before I left for the war," Bucky shrugs his shoulders. "It was the last one I ever had."

"Remind me to make them pretty often for you then." you say, a little off guard. There he went, reminding you he was really an old guy in a hot guys body. "No one should be deprived of cake."

Bucky grins, his eyes flicking to your face before away. He can't help it, there's something about you that makes him relax. Maybe it's the look in your eye, so similar to his. You hide behind a prickly exterior, snarky and condescending all the time.

But, you're easy for him to read.

You're scared, your life has not been kind, and therefore you've built hardy walls around yourself. You might not have been through the same kind of abhorrence's as Bucky, but the sad look in your eyes mirrors his own.

Kindred spirits.

You've suffered your own way in your life.

So, Bucky is glad you didn't let Steve die. He'd been hoping some kind of opportunity would present itself, for the mission to show you both that you had nothing to fear from the other. Bucky's hopeful Steve would trust you now, that he wouldn't keep you at such a distance.

Bucky is obviously still waiting for the moment Steve wins you over as well.

It'll happen eventually.

"I'm not much of a cook, so I hope you're not expecting a grand meal from me any time soon," you say after a moment, halfway through with your cake. "I mean, baking is basically my only talent."

"I don't see why I would expect a meal from you," he shakes his head. "This is more then I expected."

"Well, you mentioned you liked it. So I figured I could make it for you."

"When did you even bake this? We just got here last night."

"I couldn't sleep, I made a midnight kitchen raid at the last minute. Eventually the chef is going to realize something's up."

"I doubt he cares. You left him cupcakes last time we were there."

"True, and he didn't die of poisoning, so either he didn't eat them or I didn't put enough arsenic in them."

Bucky chuckles, relaxing as he props his elbows on the table, finished before you are.

"Don't be shy. Eat as much as you like," you urge, pleased he enjoyed it so much. You've not made very many shortcakes, so you'd been the tiniest bit worried.

"No, I figure I'll save it, make it last."

"It's cake, it's impossible to make it last longer then a few days," you shake your head. "It'll disappear quicker the more you try to savor it. Besides, I can always make another one."

"Why are you so interested in baking me sweets?"

"I'm not. Technically this is the only thing I've ever made you."

"And why did you make it for me?" Bucky's curious, he can't help the question slipping from his lips. You're nicer to him then any of the rest of the team, and he wonders if it's because you just don't know his history. Everyone else did have to face him in battle, both under Hydra's control and when he was on the lam. They worry he'll turn on them one day, and honestly he worries the same thing.

You're the only person who treats him normal.

Even Steve treats him more like a wounded animal sometimes then his friend.

"Because you said you liked it." You say simply, poking at some crumbs on your plate. "And I didn't have anything else to do."

You like baking, and you like people being happy when they taste what you've created. It's one of your favorite things, seeing people enjoy your pastries and your cakes, for their faces to light up at the delicious taste.

It's what makes you happy.

And damned aliens aren't going to take that away from you!

Your shop might be ruined, but you'll find a way to bake!

"Fair enough." He'll take that answer.

He glances at your hands, seeing they were still bruised, but not nearly as bad. They almost look their normal coloring now, although you seem to be favoring your left one.

"How are you feeling, anyway?" he asks after a moment, looking at the table.

"I'm fine, why?"

"The mission the other day. You getting trapped."

"Oh, that." You frown. You've been trying not to think about it honestly. "It's not a big deal, I just messed up. Trust me, one of you is going to have to carry me the next time, I'm not lagging behind." you roll your eyes. "Stark's never going to let me live in down."

"Probably not, he's good for that."

"So I've noticed. Are you sure you're done?"

"Yes."

You stand, gathering the plates and utensils and taking them to your sink. You sit them down, running water over the plates to wash the crumbs away.

You appreciate Bucky coming by, actually.

Er, you mean Barnes.

You don't like thinking of anyone by their first name, it meant you were becoming friends with them, or thought more of them then you should. Speaking with just their last names made it less personable, and it's how you prefer it.

So, Barnes.

You just had to remind yourself of that.

"Wanda is having this thing in the lounge later, were you going to go?" you ask lightly, turning from the sink to look at Barnes where he sits at your table. "Some small get together or something, I don't know what it's about."

"No. I don't... usually go."

"Why not? Do they get too drunk and show their asses?"

He shakes his head. "I'm not usually invited."

"Well, do they say you're not invited, or do you just not show up? I doubt she'd care. If it makes you feel better, she didn't formally invite me either. Natasha told me about it."

"I heard Steve mention it, but no thanks."

Huh.

"So what are you going to do tonight then?" you question, pushing the button on the Keurig. After something sweet, you'd love some coffee. "Do you have a long night of brooding ahead of you or something?"

"Something like that. Lots of menacing scowls, some dramatic monologues."

Your lips twitch.

Someone is getting quippy.

"You've already got the scowl down pat, don't worry. Do you take sugar or cream?"

"Just black."

Figures.

You slip the coffee cup in front of him, then make your own. You add some sugar and cream to it before returning to your seat. It's nice, having someone normal to chat with, just drinking coffee and talking about every day things. You talk a little about the others, but not much, you're not really interested in them.

You don't question him about his past, or anything to do with being part of the Avengers now. Instead, you talk about baking, about pastimes. You ask him what he enjoys, but he can't really answer you. He doesn't know what makes him content anymore.

"How about you bake with me sometime then?" you ask lightly, smiling at him. "It could be fun, and you could learn to make your own cake. You might realize you like it."

"Uh, that's okay. I'm not --- no thanks." he shakes his head quickly. It might be ridiculous, but he sees baking as more of a female thing. He's never even cooked, his mother always took care of that. He can make coffee, and that's the extent of his knowledge.

Well, unlike Steve, he can also use a microwave.

"You say that now, but it's relaxing." you cup your hands around your cup, lifting it to your lips as you gaze at him, your eyes wide and calculating. "We might find a pastime for you yet."

He doesn't quite like the way you say that.

~~~~~~~

"Sounds ominous."

"You don't even know what that word means, Wanda."

"Uh, yeah, I do. It's like, potentially creepy."

"Well, that's close enough." Natasha sounds amused as she looks at the younger girl sitting beside her. It's late in the afternoon, but they're both sitting at the bar in the lounge, relaxing after the long day. They're waiting for the chef to bring out their food so they can retire to the movie lounge, marathon a few shows.

Just relax.

"So, have you noticed anything about the new girl since she's been staying here?" Wanda asks after a moment, twisting her straw in her drink.

"What do you mean?"

"I saw Bucky leaving her room earlier today."

"Bucky?"Natasha is surprised.

"Yes. And he never even leaves his own room. What was he doing in hers?"

"I have no idea --- it's also none of our business."

"Do you think they have a thing?" Wanda continues, pretending she didn't hear Natasha at all. "I mean, what else could it mean?"

"Perhaps they're just friends."

"Yeah, a guy isn't going to leave a girls room in the middle of the day with a package. Either he's carrying a severed head from a ex boyfriend of hers she took out, or he's smuggling something suspicious!" Wanda decides, leaning back on her stool. "Or, they're having her affair and that was her underwear."

"Wanda!"

"What? Maybe he's one of those weird guys who likes trophies."

"I seriously don't want to be having this discussion right now," Natasha says in exasperation, although she does file the information away from later. Why would Bucky be leaving your room with a package?

She doubts he dropped by to borrow sugar.

"Come on, let's go watch some movies," she says as the food arrives. "Melt our brains for a few hours."

"That sounds like an awesome idea."

~~~~~

"Wanda said she saw Bucky leaving (Y/N)'s room."

"What?" Steve looks at the red headed assassin in surprise. One moment he's enjoying his meal, the next she's sitting down in front of him.

"You heard me. Is there something going on the rest of us should know about?" Natasha casually asks, sipping from her own drink. Considering the movie was having a mild intercession, she figured she could ask old cap what was going on.

"I'm not aware of anything." Steve picks at his meal. "If they're becoming friends, what does it matter?"

"It doesn't. I'm just surprised."

"Why?"

"Because both of them are as approachable as a porcupine." She leans back in her chair. "He's barely said four words to anyone and yet he's leaving her room with packages? Something is up."

Steve stares at her.

A package?

"What kind of package?"

"I don't know, just a small box from what Wanda said. Why? What do you think is going on?" Natasha hesitates, seeing the look of worry on Steves face.

He glances around, and then tells her of his concerns. He replays the last mission with Hydra, how you disappeared, and now with Bucky suddenly advocating for you.

Natasha frowns, listening intently. It's not that they're gossiping, but as clever as Hydra is, Steve doesn't want to take any risks. He doesn't want to admit he's worried about Bucky --- but one word, and his friend could turn on them in battle.

He doesn't want to take any chances and risk losing Bucky again.

"You brought her onto this team, Steve." Natasha is frowning, leaning back, a serious look on her face. "You told Coulson, and you know how they research."

"Doesn't matter. They still had someone infiltrate his very team. No matter how much research they do, Hydra will always have someone on the inside. I want to trust everyone I fight with, but I can't her."

"Then don't fight with her, don't take her on any missions. Leave her here at Stark Tower, she can't do any damage. I'll keep an eye on her."

"That won't help." Steve sighs, running his hands down his face. "I just don't know what to do. I never should have went into that bakery."

"No, you should have never told anyone about who you found there." Natasha corrected, voice firm. "That was your mistake, Steve. She doesn't want this life, do why can't she just go? Let her become a civilian again, talk to Coulson, to S.H.I.E.L.D."

"I couldn't tell them of my suspicions without proof, they'd take her immediately. I'm not sure if she'd fight them or not, and that would make it worse."

Natasha agrees. The situation is delicate, she'll admit. However, as long as you're loyal to the team, like you have been, she's going to give you the benefit of the doubt.

Honestly, it's naive of her. She knows she should immediately be suspicious and keep a thorough tab on you. Being in Stark Tower, you're under constant surveillance whether you know it or not. She's not worried as long as you're there.

But elsewhere?

That's the problem.

~~~~~

Bucky sits at his table, vacantly looking at the heated food in front of him. Leftovers, just warm enough to eat, but nothing grand.

He's assuming you went to Wandas gathering tonight, that you would be spending time with the other Avengers.

He doesn't like going to anything like that, it makes him feel like even more of an outcast. The way everyone looks at him --- the way he looks at himself --- they won't start trusting him until he's no longer a threat to them, and that's not going to happen.

He wants to make up for all the horrible things he's done in the past, even if he wasn't in control of himself. He rarely sleeps because now all the memories --- they just come rushing back to haunt him.

He can't talk about them, he won't. Speaking of them reminds him that they're real, and he finds no solace in that. He wants his nightmares to remain just that!

So he avoids the rest of the Avengers, he stays off to himself at all costs. He's thought many times of leaving, of going somewhere else again, but somehow someone always finds him ---- there's nowhere he can hide from his demons.

So he's not going to try again.

Fighting Hydra last week, battling them again, it had reminded him of what he could be. Hearing your shriek from somewhere in the jungle, knowing you were frightened --- his heart almost pumped out of his chest!

He doesn't like that feeling.

That's what getting attached does, it makes you think about others, it makes you feel pain when something bad happens to them.

Bucky knows, one day, he would inevitably betray them, whether by choice or not. When that does happen, he doesn't want to be so attached to any of them that he feels overwhelming pain or guilt --- Steve is enough.

Bucky doesn't want anymore friends.

He couldn't stand the thought of it.

~~~~~~~

Okay, game plan.

You hesitate as you stand outside Bucky's apartment, your hand poised to knock against his door. You have a tray in your other arm, some Chinese food you'd ordered beneath the lid. You'd thought you could do something nice for Barnes , you don't like the idea of him being by himself all the time while his friends are partying.

You figure even if he doesn't want you to hang out with him you could give him some food.

You don't know why you're so nervous.

You lean back on your heels, glancing around to make sure the hall is still empty. You feel ridiculous, standing out there with a tray in the crook of your arm. You kind of feel like you're pushing your company on Barnes , but you're not really fond of anyone else but Wanda , who is closer with the rest of the avengers and therefore not someone you can really trust.

So, you'll just drop some food off with Barnes and go on your merry way.

You finally just knock, nervously rapping your knuckles against his apartment door. You much prefer leaving them at his door and disappearing, but considering he'd tracked you down last time, you figure there isn't a point.

It takes a moment, but then the door is easing open.

"Hey," you say brightly, putting a smile on your lips.

"Uh, hey." He looks surprised to see you.

"I brought you some Chinese," you shuffle, offering him the small tray. "Figured you might like it, I guessed for you so I don't know if you'll... like it or not."

Are you rambling?

Oh jeez.

"Oh, thank you." Barnes takes the tray rather gratefully. "Do I ---?"

"Owe me? Nah."

He nods. "I'll pay you back sometime then. Are you going to Wanda s gathering tonight?"

"I didn't really plan on it." You lean back on your heels. "I don't like big crowds. Especially when Tin Man is there with his haughty attitude."

"Stark? Oh. I thought you'd intended on going." Barnes looks down at the hot tray in his hands. "You just going to spend the night by yourself then?"

"More then likely. Oh, tomorrow I'm going down to my bakery to do some cleaning, do you want to come with? I could use an extra set of muscles." You tease, liking his flush.

"I, uh --- I --- I mean," Barnes stammers a moment, starting to become embarrassed. For some great assassin, he's certainly at a loss for words. "Do you really...want me too? I kind of stick out in a crowd."

His metal hand moves pointedly.

"Wear a coat. Meet me downstairs at noon, how about that?" You nearly roll your eyes, starting to turn away. "You wouldn't want me to strain myself with hard work, would you? There's a cake in it for you!"

Bribery, eh?

"I doubt you'll strain yourself," he vaguely looks amused. "But I'll help, if I can."

"Great!" You smile at him, your soft eyes crinkling in the corners. You don't need his help, honestly you're not sure why you'd just invited him, it had just slipped out.

Maybe it's because you're not getting the amount of social interaction even you're used too. You run a bakery, you talk to people all day, but here... well, you mostly keep to yourself.

And it wouldn't hurt Barnes to get out a little either.

"Well, I'll let you eat before it gets cold." You say, taking a step back; again, you don't want to push your company, you've never been that kind of person. You'd invited him out tomorrow so that's going to be your limit.

Barnes waits a beat, then speaks. "You know we can eat together, don't you? I stopped worrying you'd poison me days ago, you're very bad at it."

You blink a moment at him, and grin when you realize he's joking. "You don't mind?"

You're so relieved.

"No." He takes a step back, metal hand holding the door open so you can walk inside. "I don't like eating alone either."

~~~~~~~

"You haven't been back here, have you?" Bucky asks as you both walk I to the remains of your bakery.

Oh great, now the upstairs is falling through the ceiling!

"No," you sigh, purveying all the damage. "I haven't had time."

"How much is it going to cost you to rebuild?" He leans down, lifting the two halves of a table up. You'd swept a lot of the worst of the debris onto the street, but now there's even more to be dealt with.

You're not quite sure how structurally sound the building even is, or if it's safe to be inside now! The entire second floor could collapse any second!

Good thing you don't have to go up there.

You chew your lower lip.

"Around eighty thousand dollars."

"What?" Bucky stares at you in surprise, but you merely shrug.

"That's just my guesstimate. It would be cheaper for me to just move to a new location since the building is what's going to need all the work, but I'm partial to this one." You're a little sentimental. Plus, you own the building --- no one's going to want to buy it in this condition.

You're basically bankrupt at this point.

Honestly the cost is going to be more then that, but you don't know how bad the building is. You feel absolutely lost as you look around, wondering of there's even a point in cleaning up.

The building might as well be condemned, bulldozed down and then rebuilt. Considering half the city is in shambles, you know you're not going to be able to get a loan, either.

People are flooding homeless shelters, and a majority of community centers are full as well --- people have nowhere to go with their homes gone. Traffic is a mess on all the highways, getting in and out is nearly impossible --- you're just relieved that, admittedly thanks to the Avengers, there's enough food where people aren't starving.

Stark had planes flying in and out all hours of the day and night carrying in supplies from all over the world, forking out his own money to do so.

So you give him points for that.

"Why don't you move then?" Barnes asks, lifting some busted concrete pieces up and tossing them out onto the sidewalk like he's tossing apples.

"Because I like this building, it's mine. I bought it because the location, and it's pretty here." You say, stepping behind the counter. "So I'm going to fix it."

"It will be simpler to tear it down."

"Maybe. We'll see." You might be able to salvage it.

You hope so, anyway.

Bucky doesn't say another word, he just begins helping you clean. You start working in the kitchen area, which with the exception of a broken oven and busted lights, is mostly intact. Sure, the steel beam through the oven probably means the ceiling above will collapse at any moment, but that's totally fine.

Maybe you'll live.

Killed in your own bakery seems appropriate anyway.

You'll die in your favorite place!

You know none of the ingredients in the fridge will be salvageable, but you start gathering the rest of your tools and supplies before they ruin or get stolen.

You have at least four large boxes piled by the time you have the island done, taking all your pots and pans as well.

They're expensive, you're not leaving them behind!

"Hey, (Y/L/N), what do you want done with these tables?"

"Just toss the broken ones into the street," you call, dusting some of your pans off; you're glad Barnes had a car and you can pack this stuff in it! You couldn't imagine having to carry everything, and you know some people might freak out if they see boxes floating down the street. "There's no point in keeping them."

"Fine."

You sigh, straightening after another hour, your lower back aching. You're covered in dust and ash again, the knees of your jeans blackened. You have quite a few boxes packed up now, and you hope they fit in the car, you don't want to leave them behind.

"How's it going in there?" You call, stepping to the swinging doors. You push one open, and blink.

Oh nice!

Barnes has managed to move all the broken furniture out into the street, and he's picked up all the glass and anything else sharp and placed in the corner. Your display cases are empty, and he'd knocked what pieces of glass had been in them out.

So, although the front looks like it's been abandoned and Crack heads have lived in it for ten years, it doesn't look as bad as it had with all the destruction.

"Oh it looks so nice in here!" You gasp, pleased as you clasp your hands. You walk forward, the counter door swinging against your hips. "You got everything up!"

"Well, I did what I could." Barnes shrugs his shoulders, dusting off his hands.

"You did much more then I could, even with super powers." You say, almost earning a smile. "Thank you!"

"I said I would help. Besides, now it's easier to imagine what it looked like before." His eyes scan the chalkboard menu against the far wall, the billboard you have beside it with people's notes on it saying wonderful things and photos.

Your shop must have been popular.

"Well, it was definitely nicer then this." Your hands go to your hips, following his gaze. "There was never a dull day."

"You enjoyed it though?"

"Oh yes. Baking is my thing, it's what I'm good at. I loved opening the shop and people coming in, sampling my cakes --- I especially love decorating the holiday cakes." You smile at the memory. "People order the craziest things, like I had a severed head for a Halloween party once. It took me three ruined cakes and a lot of cussing, but I made it!"

"Sounds like you like a challenge." Barnes looks amused, but you shrug your shoulders.

"I just know what I love. I like making people happy with little treats." You admit, turning away. "It makes people smile."

It's the only way you make people smile.

Bucky doesn't say a word, just watches you return to the back. There it is again, that haunted look in your eye.

Whatever happened to you in the past, it still has a hold of you. Bucky understands that, his own demons still haunt him. He almost wants to ask, for you to tell him what makes you so sad, why you can't sleep at night, why you so adamantly cling to your baking.

It's your escape, you bake so you don't think, he recognizes it for what it is.

He just wishes he knew what he could do to help.

He'd told himself earlier that he wasn't going to be friends with you, that he wouldn't get close to you.

Yet here he is, doing that exactly. He just can't help himself, he's drawn to you for some reason.

What's he getting himself into?

Tags: @riegan, @miss-evil-one, @theonlyprincessoftheworld, @1voice-behind-the-silnce, @lilmissmoony, @lizandbooks, @sophia-wyszkowski, @isaxhorror, @shayx5, @theonlyprincessoftheworld, @iamwarrenspeace @bigdaddyfairywinkle @itstrashleydude. @davros2004. @vidiasnow. @scarlet-witch-baby. @samijolles. @soaringren. @sophs-the-name. @naturalistamisslyn

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