#James A. Baker

[deadpresidents]

has there ever been any confirmation about who the bushes voted for in 2016 between trump and hillary?

As far as I'm aware, neither of the two Bush Presidents ever publicly addressed who they cast their ballots for in 2016. But in Peter Baker and Susan Glasser's 2020 book, The Man Who Ran Washington: The Life and Times of James A. Baker III (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO) -- an excellent biography of the former Secretary of State, Treasury Secretary, White House Chief of Staff, and longtime best friend of George H.W. Bush (Baker was at Bush's bedside in Houston when the former President died in 2018) -- they mention that Bush 41 voted for Hillary Clinton, former First Lady Barbara Bush wrote in the name of Jeb Bush, and Bush 43 voted for "none of the above."

[kj-ursa]

i love Star Wars animation cus roughly half of it is Dee Bradley Baker in a recording booth talking to himself and everything else is James Arnold Taylor trying to disguise his buttery smooth dulcet tones

[navybrat817]

Is tattoo artist!Bucky doing well?

Is Bucky doing well, nonnie? Yes.

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader

Word Count: Over 500

Warnings: Oral sex (f. receiving, m. referenced), established relationship, slight feels, Bucky Barnes

A/N: Just another manic Moanday.

Banner by the talented @cafekitsune

And why is Bucky doing well?

Because he’s currently on his knees in your kitchen, feasting on you like one of your delicious treats you make so well.

He couldn't help himself since you decided to wear a dress while you baked. You looked so domestic, so welcoming, so delicious, and what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t flip your dress up and have a taste? He had watched you long enough from the doorway, and he didn’t allow you to protest when he hoisted you up onto the counter and silenced you with a deep kiss.

You giggled into his mouth and he happily swallowed down the sound. “Hey. I’m baking for you.”

“You bake every day and I love that,” he smiled, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth. “But I want the dessert between your thighs.”

“You're always hungry,” you teased, allowing him to drop to his knees and peel off your soaked underwear.

“I am. And you're always wet for me,” he smirked, your tattooed god spreading your legs with ease. He barely touched you and the fire within you had already been stoked. “You’re sweet and you act sweet, but you're also a naughty girl, Sugar.”

“I’m not just a naughty girl, Hottie.” You looked down at him as his eyes devoured the sight of your pussy. The same way he’d devour you with his mouth. “I’m your naughty girl.”

He brought that side of you out, the side that craved for him to bury himself between your thighs. Face or cock, whatever he’d give you. Your body would gratefully accept him.

“All mine,” he whispered, flicking your clit with his tongue and spreading fiery shocks through your body before he dipped his tongue down. His groan vibrated against you when you tugged on his hair. “Tastes so fucking good. Could eat you every day and never get enough.”

“What if I want a treat?” you moaned, your thighs trembling as his skillful tongue swirled patterns and letters. He traced the word “mine”, which nearly made you splinter around him. He followed it with a heart, which made your heart melt.

“What kind of treat?” he asked, your pussy throbbing when he slipped a finger in. He buried it up to the knuckle, and the ring around his finger had you throwing your head back.

“I have… leftover frosting. Let me…” you whimpered and took a breath. “Spread it on your cock and you can fuck my throat,” you rushed out.

It was silly, but you felt like a goddess when you took your boyfriend apart. The way he moaned your name, told you how good you were for him. Why wouldn’t you want to please him?

He groaned, pulling back to gently nip your thigh. “You’re too good to me, Sugar, but let me finish getting my sugar before you get yours.” he said, his voice husky. “And maybe I can give your pretty mouth and pussy some cream.”

“You did not just…” He dove back in and turned your words into a passionate cry.

And you got no baking done that afternoon, but you and Bucky were both plenty full by the end.

Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business. ❤️ Love and thanks! ❤️

[saturnisaroace]

ALRIGHT! WHO ORDERED THE COMFORT CAST CROSSOVER?

📸 disneydescendants on IG

[myiliterallyhavenolifegoals]

[ohmovie]

A Complete Unknown (2024) dir. James Mangold Anora (2024) dir. Sean Baker

[jaythedagger]

if i see one more person in the comments of a tiktok or post saying “ooooo david got off lucky!!!! you see if joel got his hands on him it would’ve been so much worse!!!!” wrong. you are already getting the wrong idea from the whole story. ellie can save herself physically. emotionally? no, she needs joel for that part. the show is literally highlighting that in every other aspect, he fails her. and how could he have possibly done worse? SHE SHOULD NOT HAVE HAD TO SMASH A MEAT CLEAVER INTO A PEDO���S SKULL 22 TIMES AT THE AGE OF 14. even joel can see it so why as a viewer can’t you?

i’m so glad craig and neil didn’t cut down ellie murdering david by joel entering the scene (like in the game) and changed it to her being allowed to take it as far as she wanted because it gives her so much autonomy. she did that shit on her own, and she’ll never be the same.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Fawn !!!! This celebration is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. May I please request James x baker!reader with the prompt “putting a gingerbread house together” (only if it sparks inspo for you of course)? Congrats again on 6k!! <3

Hehe thank you mae and thank you for requesting! This was a very cute idea and I hope I did it justice <3

“If you eat all the icing we won’t be able to keep our house up.”

James licks his fingers and wipes them off in a kitchen towel.

You’re holding the walls of the house while James pastes the icing inside.

“I’ll prop it up angel,” James uses your bottles of sprinkles to hold the walls of the house in place as you carefully remove your hands.

“How are we decorating it?” You’d given James a few options, classic gingerbread house, a candy land eutopia or a design of his own.

“How about a mix of classic and what we like.”

That’s how one side of your gingerbread house is complete with icing shingles, white icing around the windows and doors and a few gumdrops.

The second side is James’ dream home, candy dots on the walls, candy canes near the ‘bushes’ and gumdrops on every surface.

“It’s our sweet house.” James says proudly, icing smeared on his cheek and sugar specks from the bits of candy he snuck while you guys worked.

“Can we add sprinkles too?” He asks and you smile.

“We can add whatever we like, Jamie.” It rains red and green crystal sprinkles over your house soon after- the effect looks like glittering lights.

This was the best idea ever.

[mrjinx87]

People underestimate the power of twinks.

[capitanpoops]

two losers ...even with the same questionable haircuts in the new seasons

[helbrides]

I THOUGHT YOU WERE RATHER AN HONEST, STRAIGHTFORWARD PERSON. I THOUGHT IT WAS YOUR SECRET PRIDE.

black sails (2014-2017) / the great gatsby - f. scott fitzgerald

[cece693]

It's All For You (Jay Gatsby x GN! Reader)

Fun fact, one of my favorite books is The Great Gatsby. However, to this day, no one (in my opinion) has managed to fully encase what Jay represents. Character-wise, he's still the Gatsby chasing the green light, but in terms of face claim, I left him ambiguous. I know this is a very out-there fandom, and I know it won't be very popular, but it makes me happy :)

Summary: You were helping Jay see your cousin Daisy, but, somewhere down the line, you managed to become his anchor to reality.

tags: can be read with Nick in mind, Jay is an infatuated boy, clueless reader, Jay finally sees Daisy for what she is, happy ending

Daisy was enchanting. Captivating. Alluring. But none of those words seemed to fully encapsulate the aura she exuded. There was a lightness to her that drew people in, a kind of graceful detachment as if she floated through life just out of reach. Yet for all her beauty and charm, there was something elusive about her, something that kept everyone at arm's length. It was easy to be enchanted by her, to fall for the sparkling facade she wore like a second skin. And Jay Gatsby was no different—at least, that’s what I thought.

Gatsby had built a life around the idea of Daisy, a world spun from dreams and memories of a love long lost. The parties, the lavish displays, the rumors—they all pointed back to her, to the one he had let slip away. When I came to West Egg, I found myself pulled into his grand scheme to win her back. Daisy had asked for my help; I was her cousin, after all, and who better to act as a go-between, arranging encounters, helping to stage those first delicate meetings under the guise of friendly visits?

At first, Gatsby's devotion to Daisy seemed unwavering, as though he was single-mindedly determined to recapture the past. He spoke of her with reverence, like a man describing a distant star, bright and unattainable. He watched for her at every gathering, always positioned just so, as though one look from her would make all the years melt away. I helped him prepare for these moments, choosing the flowers, setting the table for tea, ensuring everything was perfect. He wanted it all to be just right for Daisy.

But as time went on, I noticed something I couldn’t quite name. The way Gatsby's gaze would flicker toward me in moments of quiet, how he would seek my approval on even the smallest details. There was a certain light in his eyes when we would linger in conversation long after the parties had ended and the rest of the world had gone to sleep. I chalked it up to Gatsby’s natural charm, to the friendship that had grown between us amid all the scheming. After all, I was helping my cousin's lost love find his way back to her.

The first real crack in the illusion came one afternoon when Gatsby and I were alone in his library, discussing the next gathering. Daisy had mentioned that she missed simpler times, the quietness of tea on a summer's day. I suggested we hold a small, intimate tea party just for the three of us, something more personal than the grand festivities that had become Gatsby's signature.

“It’s a wonderful idea,” Gatsby agreed, his voice softening as he looked at me, not in the direction of the distant green light that always seemed to capture his attention. “But it doesn’t feel right to ask so much of you, helping with all this.”

I waved off his concern. “Nonsense. I’m happy to help. If it makes Daisy smile, then it’s worth it.”

He gave a small, almost wistful smile. “I suppose it’s not just Daisy who I’m trying to make smile.”

I didn’t know what to make of that comment. I let it slide, laughing it off as a joke, but something about the way he said it stayed with me. There was a warmth in his tone that I couldn’t quite place, and in the days that followed, I began to see Gatsby in a different light.

The tea party came and went, with Daisy laughing and charming her way through the afternoon. Gatsby’s attention was on her, of course, but there was a shift, a subtle one, like a shadow moving across a wall. I found Gatsby watching me out of the corner of his eye, a lingering glance that held more than casual interest. It was as though he was trying to tell me something without words.

And then, one night, as the last strains of music from yet another party faded into the stillness, Gatsby approached me on the terrace. The moonlight cast long shadows across the lawn, and there was a hesitation in his steps that I hadn’t seen before.

“You know,” he began, leaning against the stone railing, “for the longest time, I thought everything I did was for Daisy. Every party, every bit of gold and glitter—it was all meant to bring her back to me.”

“Isn’t it still?” I asked, unsure of what he was getting at. “You’ve built all of this for her.”

“Yes,” he admitted, but there was a shift in his tone, a softness I hadn’t heard before. “But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about Daisy.”

The breath caught in my throat. “Then what was it about?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Gatsby turned to face me fully, his gaze searching mine. “It was about finding something real. I thought Daisy could give me that, but then I met you. You were there for every moment, every detail, pulling me back when I started drifting into dreams again. I started looking forward to your company, your words, your laughter.” He took a step closer, the intensity in his eyes almost overwhelming. “It was you who brought me back to reality.”

I stood frozen. “Jay,” I began, struggling to find the right words. “I—”

"You don't have to tell me anything, Y/N." Gatsby smiled, a minuscule one that conveyed just how difficult this was for him too. "I just wanted to make my interest clear."

His words hung in the air, a fragile thread connecting us in that moonlit moment. The warmth of his gaze sent a thrill racing through me, igniting something deep inside—a longing I had tried to ignore while orchestrating his reunion with Daisy. The truth crashed over me like a wave, and I realized that somewhere along the way, Jay Gatsby had become someone truly important to me.

In that electric silence, I felt the boundaries between us dissolve. I could no longer hold back. My heart surged with emotion, and before I could think, I stepped forward and closed the distance between us.

Our lips met in a fervent kiss, an eruption of pent-up desire and vulnerability. It felt like a revelation, as if everything I had been holding back rushed forth in that single moment. Gatsby’s surprise melted into a warmth that enveloped me, his hands moving to cradle my face as he kissed me back with a fervor that took my breath away.

Time seemed to stand still as we lost ourselves in each other, the world around us fading into the background. The soft rustle of the leaves and the distant hum of the night felt like a distant echo. All I could focus on was the taste of him, the way he held me as if I were a fragile dream he was afraid to lose.

[navybrat817]

Sundresses and Leather

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Your first date with Bucky doesn't go as planned, but that makes it all the more special. Word Count: Over 4.7k Warnings: First date, tension, flirting, brief moments of insecurity, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. Previous Part of AU: Sweet and Strong A/N: More Hottie and Sugar from our Sin on Skin AU. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Tonight was the night. You were going out with Bucky Barnes. Excited for the date was a bit of an understatement. You may have told a few customers you had a date when they wished you a good day.

Thank God they were mostly regulars and seemed happy on my behalf.

"Maybe a sundress isn't nice enough," you told Tess, regretting the words the moment they left your mouth. She didn’t need to deal with you and your overthinking. Again.

"It's plenty nice. You’re going to look amazing,” she argued, going to check on the next batch of cookies. “And he can lift the skirt and bury his-"

"I thought you said I didn't have to get laid on my first date with him," you cut her off.

"You don't have to, but the visual alone will give him something for his spank bank later."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," you smiled, but it quickly faltered.

You weren’t sure why a cloud drifted over your sunny disposition. Bucky was a good guy, a far cry from Richard. Gorgeous, kind, hardworking, the whole package. There was chemistry between the two of you that went beyond mere attraction. Maybe it was the fact that you were falling hard and fast for him that suddenly made you so nervous. You didn’t want to scare him away.

But he said he couldn’t stop thinking about me and he wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it.

Tess gave you a pointed look. “Stop overthinking. I’m begging you.”

“I’m not trying to,” you sighed, your nerves almost tempting you to grab a treat from the case. “What if I fall on my face?”

“Like Bucky would let you hit the ground. Even if you do stumble, that’s life. It isn’t going to change the fact that he likes you,” she said as you helped her with the cookies. You still had work to do. “The guy said he can’t get you off his mind and to text him whenever you want. He does not strike me as the type to just say those things and I know he doesn’t strike you as that type either.”

It took a moment, but your smile came back. She was right. Life wasn’t perfect and you were far from it, but Bucky liked you just as you are. Tonight would be unforgettable no matter what.

“I appreciate the pep talk,” you said, thankful that she told you what you needed to hear. “I’ll even tell you the dirty details if anything happens.”

“Hell yeah, you will. Remember, at this point, I’m living vicariously through you until I find my own hunk,” she winked. “But I mean it. Have fun tonight and get your man.”

I will.

After your shift, you rushed to change for your date. You somehow managed to arrive a few minutes early outside of Bucky's shop and took a deep breath to get yourself under control. Catching your reflection in the window, you smiled before you turned away. Since Bucky hadn’t given you any hint for what you were doing, you chose your nicest sundress and kept your makeup minimal. You looked and felt beautiful, though you wished you would’ve brought a jacket with you.

Maybe Bucky will let me borrow his if he has one.

“Holy shit.”

You spun around when you heard Bucky’s voice behind you, your heart fluttering as he met you on the sidewalk. Instead of the jeans you usually saw him in, he wore khakis, a button up shirt, and a blue blazer that matched his eyes. He had his hair down, perfectly parted on the right side. You were so busy staring at the broad, handsome man that it took you a moment to realize he was trying to hand you something.

Flowers.

“Sorry. You just… wow,” he said as you took the small bouquet, sweeping his gaze over you as your cheeks grew warm. “You look so beautiful.”

You giggled and quickly covered your mouth with your hand, butterflies in your stomach when he gently smiled. “Don’t apologize,” you smiled back, taking a moment to smell the flowers. “You look pretty ‘holy shit’ yourself.”

His nose scrunched as he laughed and offered you his hand. “So, you’re telling me I clean up well. Steve insisted on the blazer when I said I wanted to bring my leather jacket.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Though I wouldn’t have minded the leather jacket,” you said. He would’ve looked gorgeous, as always. “And thank you for suggesting we meet here. We had a last minute order and I was scrambling."

"It's no problem. One of my clients was running a few minutes late and I almost had to take you out in jeans."

"I wouldn't have minded," you said. You both worked hard and understood that things would come up from time to time. "So, where are we headed?"

He cleared his throat as he led you to his car. “Well, do you want the good news or the bad news?”

Your stomach dropped a little. “Mmm. Bad news first,” you said after a moment. “Always better to end on a high note.”

“Bad news was I had planned to take you out on my motorcycle so we could have a picnic in the park. There was going to be live music and I would’ve asked you to dance,” he explained, looking up at the sky. “But…”

“The weather called for a storm tonight, didn’t it?” you mused, a wistful smile on your face when he nodded. The image of being in his arms under the stars as music drifted through the air made your heart skip a beat. It sounded like the perfect evening.

“Yeah. The band is rescheduling,” he said, tucking his hair behind his ear as he looked at the ground. “Then I thought I could take you to this art gallery nearby. They normally have these stunning paintings of landscapes and various statues, but the current exhibit is on human sexuality and reproduction. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but maybe it was too much for a first date.”

“Oh, come on. It couldn’t have been that bad,” you argued as he stopped and took out his phone.

“No?” he asked, tapping his screen before he showed you what you assumed was the page for the gallery.

“…That’s a giant dick,” you said before you could stop yourself, tilting your head as you stared at the phone. “And does that say BALLS?”

An older woman crossing in the opposite direction gave you an amused stare before you and Bucky burst into a fit of laughter. You had to hold on his arm to keep from collapsing on the ground. It was the funniest thing you had seen since you could remember and to think you almost saw it in person.

This date is off to a great start.

“Maybe I wanted to see a giant dick and balls,” you said once you caught your breath, pointing at him when he opened his mouth. “And don’t say ‘all I have to do is pull down my pants’ or something like that.”

But I know he has a big dick. I know.

He smirked as he started walking again. “Only if you ask me nicely, Sugar.”

He’s going to kill my ovaries.

“I’ll ask you very nicely, Hottie,” you teased, wondering exactly where you were going then. “If that was the bad news, what’s the good news?”

“I managed to get us a reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in town,” he said, standing a bit taller.

He’s trying to impress me.

“That's really nice. And I’m sure dinner will be amazing,” you assured him, hoping he didn’t beat himself up over having to change his plans. It wasn’t his fault it was going to rain. He could’ve taken you to a fast food place and it would’ve been fine because you were with him.

“Speaking of, I better get us there so we aren’t late,” he said, opening the door for you to get in. “Maybe if you agree to a second date, I can take you out on my bike and have that picnic.”

“I’d love that,” you smiled, carefully putting the flowers in your lap and trying not to appear too eager that he was already thinking of a second date. You glanced around the car when he got in and drove off, noticing it was cleaner than when he took you home days prior.

Did he clean it for me?

You grinned as he hummed along to the radio, watching as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel. “You could’ve made it as a musician if you weren’t a tattoo artist.”

“Now you’re just flattering me, Sugar,” he said. “Believe it or not, if I wasn’t a tattoo artist, I would’ve liked to be a science teacher. I loved science and everything space related growing up.”

“Really?” you asked. He would’ve been a wonderful teacher, no matter what age group he taught. “Okay. That’s another date night.”

“What? Playing teacher?” he joked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to wink at you.

“No,” you giggled, carefully shoving his arm since he was driving. “We’re going to a science museum. That's our third date. I’m going to watch you happily geek out over everything.”

“Yeah?” he asked, glancing at you after he parked the car. “You’d do that?”

“Yeah, I would. I think it would be a blast.”

I just want to spend time with you.

A soft expression took over his features when he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips lightly brushed your skin, heat pooling in your gut as he made eye contact with you. The look alone made you want to skip dinner and go right to dessert. Why not throw caution to the wind?

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised before he got out.

You exhaled slowly and mentally told your libido to calm down. At the very least, you had to get through dinner. He went through the trouble of getting a reservation at a nice place and you weren’t about to take that away from him.

“Oh, wow. I haven’t been here before,” you said once you got a look at the name. Richard used to brag about the place, but never actually took you. From what you remember, he said the food was supposed to be expensive. You didn’t want Bucky to splurge on you.

“I haven’t either,” Bucky admitted. A fancy place didn’t seem like his style. “But it looked romantic.”

You bit your lip as he opened the door, the flickering candlelight in the entryway alone providing an intimate ambience. The date may not have been what he planned, but he clearly did his research and put thought into doing something nice for you. When was the last time someone tried to do something nice for you? When did anyone go out of their way to make you feel special?

“Hello,” Bucky said as the hostess greeted you. “Reservation for two under James.”

James?

The hostess scanned her screen before she looked up. “I’m sorry. That name isn’t coming up.”

Bucky’s cheeks turned pink when you glanced at him. “It should be under James, miss. James Barnes. Reservation for two for 7pm. I spoke with Charles. He confirmed it.”

You moved closer to Bucky when the hostess searched through her screen again. As calm as he sounded, you sensed he was anything but inside. You hoped he wasn’t embarrassed. Maybe she skipped over his name. A simple mistake.

“Charles did make a reservation for you, but he entered it for 7pm next Friday,” she said as she looked between the two of you. “We’re fully booked tonight. I'm sorry, James.”

Oh, no.

There was a tick in Bucky’s jaw before he shook his head and you wanted nothing more than to hug him. “No, that’s… It’s for tonight.”

“I’m so sorry. I can see if we can squeeze a table in for you, but it’ll be at least an hour,” she said, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. She probably expected one or both of you to make a scene. "I can get my manager?"

Bucky swallowed when he looked at you, his cheeks still pink. The candlelight danced in his eyes, but all you saw was sadness. No. You wouldn't allow that. This was your first date and it was going to be amazing.

You put a hand on his arm, his muscles relaxing under your touch. "It's okay. I know this amazing place that’s right around the corner."

"Are you sure?" he asked, the hostess visibly relaxing when you nodded.

"You have a good evening," you said to the hostess and tugged Bucky back toward the door. "I'm sure. Trust me. We may even beat the rain if we walk now."

“Okay,” he said, avoiding your gaze as you left. “Fuck. This is the worst first date, isn’t it?”

Your heart broke for him. All he wanted was to give you a nice evening and everything he tried fell through. “Not even close. And you have nothing to apologize for. Charles messed up the reservation, Hottie, not you.”

“Yeah, he did,” he said, his lip tugging like he wanted to smile. “I just really wanted tonight to be special and since I couldn’t give you the date I planned, I wanted to at least give you something nice. I couldn't even do that.”

Hearing that made you stop, even when you felt the first raindrop. "Tonight is special because you're spending time with me. That's all I wanted," you promised, squeezing his hand for good measure.

"That's really all?" he asked as he squeezed your hand in return.

"Well, not completely," you teased as another raindrop landed on your shoulder. "Maybe a kiss at the end of our date."

A wide smile formed on his face as he leaned in, not quite kissing you. "Whatever you want, Sugar."

As romantic as it was to stand on the sidewalk with him, the rain began to come down harder and had you rushing with him around the corner. “If you're still disappointed, you’ll feel much better when we eat. Antonia’s has the best food,” you said, holding out your hand in a grand gesture as you arrived. “Tada!”

Antonia's was a bit of a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Not extraordinary on the outside, but lively and bright on the inside. The food and service were top notch. It was one of your favorite places.

“Wait, Antonia's?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes. “This is where you’re taking me?”

“Yeah,” you replied, suddenly nervous as you faced him. Did he not like it? “Is this okay?”

“This is one of my new favorite restaurants,” he said.

No way.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I designed one of Antonia's tattoos. And I decided to check out the place."

He's full of surprises.

"Then you know you're in for a treat," you winked.

The hearty aroma of the restaurant filled the air as you went inside and wiped some of the rain off your dress. Antonia was speaking with the hostess as you went up to the stand. The owner was involved in virtually every part of her restaurant.

"Welcome to…" Antonia began as she looked at you, then at Bucky, then back at you. "Oh! You two… it's a date!"

Antonia looks so happy.

"Hi. And yes. We're on a date," you giggled when Bucky sheepishly smiled. It was sweet. "You wouldn't happen to have a table for two available, would you?"

Antonia put her hand over her heart and flagged down a waiter with the other. "Lover's special for these two. Go."

You exchanged a look with Bucky, who appeared just as confused as you were. "Lover's special?"

"Yes, yes. Come with me," she said, patting Bucky's cheek before she took you through the restaurant. You expected her to seat you at one of the few empty tables, but she passed them to take you to a door in the back. "Tonight is special and that means a special dinner."

Your eyes widened at the sight before you once she opened the door. There was a lone table in the middle of the room, flowers similar to the bouquet Bucky gave you sat in the center. Unlike the bright main room, the dimmed lights gave the room a romantic glow.

Perfect.

"Peter will serve you. And if you need anything, just ask, okay?" Antonia asked, putting her hand over her heart again. Were there tears in her eyes? "Two of my favorite customers. Together! Enjoy!"

You had to pause and swallow the lump in your throat once she left you alone. A restaurant owner showed more enthusiasm for your date than your mom did for anything that involved you. She likely never would.

"You okay?" Bucky asked, pulling out your chair.

"I'm fine," you replied, refusing to let the thought of your mom damper the evening. "A little chilly. I should've brought a sweater with me."

Bucky removed his blazer and put it around you, tenderness in his blue eyes as he rubbed your arms. "I can't wait to see you in my leather jacket," he said, helping you take your seat before he took his.

Oh, he's going to give me his jacket? Am I going to only wear his jacket? Fuck.

"Thank you," you said, inhaling as he rolled up one of his sleeves beneath the elbow and then the other. You reached across the table to lightly trace one of the tattoos on his right arm. "It was nice of Antonia to put us back here."

"Then why did you look so sad when she left?"

He caught that?

"She just looked so happy to see us together and I didn't expect that. It's nice that someone is rooting for us," you said, tracing your finger along his wrist before you stopped. "I'm sorry. I should've asked before I started touching."

"Don't apologize. I like your touch," he said in a low voice.

You lifted your gaze, seeing fire in his eyes that had nothing to do with the dim lighting. When he turned his hand over to hold yours, you made no move to pull away. You wished you could put your hands all over him.

"Hi! I'm Peter!" The waiter greeted as he brought water to the table. Bucky didn't let go of your hand. "I'll be taking care of you tonight."

"Only one taking care of my girl tonight is me," Bucky said. As much as you loved hearing that, you were glad he gave poor Peter a tiny smile so he could relax. "I'm kidding. It's good to see you, Peter."

"Y-You, too, Mr. Barnes. And you, Miss. You have the best cupcakes in town."

"Thanks," you smiled, quickly putting in your order before you gazed at Bucky. "So, James. Tell me more about you. How long have you been friends with Steve?"

"James is my first name. Everyone calls me Bucky," he chuckled before he shook his head. "And that punk."

You smiled softly as you listened to Bucky, not at all surprised by how easily the conversation went. Steve was his best friend since childhood and they served together before they went into business together. It was evident that he took pride in his shop and respected everyone who worked there. He carried the same affection in his tone when he spoke about his sister, Rebecca. He liked to frequent art galleries with Steve, but also enjoyed riding his bike, reading, and everything science in his spare time.

I could listen to him talk for hours.

"You know, you haven't said much about yourself," he pointed out as he set his napkin on his empty plate.

"I haven't?" You asked.

"No, you haven't and I don't want to monopolize the conversation," he said, leaning forward to give you his full attention. "I want to know more about you."

You tightened the blazer around you, unsure of what to say. "My life isn't exactly exciting," you said, wishing you could think of something clever or fun to discuss.

"Doesn't have to be exciting. I just want to know you," he said before Peter showed back up.

"Would you like to look at the desert menu?" he asked as he took your plates away.

"I think you can bring the check. We're going to skip dessert," you answered, giving Bucky an assuring smile when he frowned. "Let's go to my shop instead."

If Bucky wanted to really know you, you had to tell him more of your story. Your bakery was the only place to do it. And it would be the perfect way to end the evening.

After you left the restaurant, with Antonia asking you to come back again, Bucky drove as safely as he could to the bakery. The rain didn't let up at all. You shrieked as you struggled to get the keys out of your purse, Bucky's blazer now soaked the longer you stood there. "Why didn't I get these out when I was still in your car?!" You shouted over the downpour.

"Why didn't I bring an umbrella?!" He yelled back, putting his hands over your head as if they would protect you.

The two of you practically fell through the door once you unlocked it and shut off the alarm. "We made it," you laughed, careful not to slip on the floor. He had his arm around you just in case. Tess was right, He wouldn't let you fall. "I'll get us some towels and you have your pick of any dessert I have in the fridge."

"You have any cupcakes?" He asked.

Your breath caught in your throat when you stepped back and caught the outline of multiple tattoos through his soaked shirt. "Yeah."

"See something you like?" he smirked, running a hand through his wet hair.

Fuck me.

"I do," you said, glancing down at yourself. "But I'm freezing and I owe you dessert."

Tess might also have words if I let Bucky ravage me by the front door.

You took Bucky to the kitchen and grabbed a few towels. It wouldn't dry you off completely, but it would help. You also put on some soft music. Not to set the mood necessarily, but just in case.

"So, this is where the magic happens," Bucky said, running the towel along his exposed skin.

"It is," you said, placing your hand on the counter. "You said you wanted to know me. It starts here."

"In the kitchen?"

"In the kitchen," you repeated, going to the fridge to take a container of cupcakes out. "I used to visit my grandparents every weekend when I was growing up. My dad wasn't around and my mom said it was for family quality time, but she never stuck around. The reality was that I cramped her style and she passed me off to them because she knew they wouldn't say no."

Bucky's jaw clenched as you let him take a cupcake. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," you said, gripping the lid tightly before you closed the container. "I remember crying because I wanted to take dance classes and try and make friends. My mom said I would be a terrible dancer and that it would be a waste of time and money. A great thing for a kid to hear, right?"

"Jesus," he whispered.

It wasn't exactly the happiest conversation to have, but you wanted to show Bucky a part of you that you didn't show to most people. "My grandma wiped my tears away and brought me into her kitchen. Said she had the perfect cure for the blues. Baking. And that's what we did every weekend until I got old enough to look after myself."

"Your grandma sounds amazing," he said, carefully examining the cupcake in his hand. "And baking became your passion."

"It did. She taught me to pour love into every creation I make. And that's what Tess and I do for others. If someone is having a bad day, at least they can have a treat and feel a little better," you said, pride in your eyes as you looked around. "My grandma supported my dream, but my mom almost disowned me for wanting to run this place. It isn't good enough in her eyes."

I'm not good enough.

Bucky's nostrils flared as he set the dessert down. "Your business isn't good enough for her? What the hell? It's flourishing. I can barely find a lull to come in to get some undivided attention. And your customers love you. She should be proud of you."

His defense of you was heartwarming. "Doesn't matter how successful my business is. She wanted me to marry rich, probably so she could get money from me, but I didn't. She berated me when I broke up with Richard. No matter what I do, I'm never going to be good enough in her eyes," you told him, patting the counter with your hand. "But this makes me happy and that's enough."

"That's why you were sad that Antonia was so happy about our date, wasn't it? Because your mom either doesn't or wouldn't support it," he guessed, reaching for you and pulling you into his arms. "She'll probably hate me. I'm not rich. Covered in tattoos."

"I don't care what she thinks of you. I don't need a rich guy or fancy dates. I just want someone who can provide companionship and support. Someone who respects and cares for me," you said, wrapping your arms around him. "A good, hard-working guy like you deserves the same."

It was too soon to voice it, but Bucky was the kind of man you needed in your life. Someone you could share parts of yourself with and know he wouldn't judge. A man who made your heart race beyond lust.

A partnership.

He stared deeply into your eyes and you had no idea what was going through his head, but his gaze told you so much. How could a pair of eyes be so expressive? "You're perfect, Sugar, and more than enough. You hear me?"

Tears welled up in your eyes before you blinked them away. He sounded sincere and unashamed at his declaration. You hadn't done anything to deserve such praise. "No, I'm not," you whispered.

"You are to me. You took a chance and asked me out. Soothed me when tonight didn't go the way I thought it would," he said, gripping your chin to recapture your gaze. "And you trusted me enough to share something vulnerable with me when you didn't have to. It means everything."

"I feel like I can open up to you," you said as the two of you slowly swayed to the beat. You couldn't remember why you were nervous about your date to begin with.

"And I'll take care of you. I mean it."

I hope he knows I'll take care of him, too.

"You know," you began with a soft smile. "Our first kiss was in your shop."

"It was," he smiled.

"So I think it's only fair that we have our second kiss in my shop," you said.

"You did say you wanted a kiss to end our date," he said, bringing a hand to the back of your neck, but giving you a chance to stop him.

You didn't.

Even though you expected it, you still gasped when he molded his mouth against yours. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, making you both eager and pliant as he licked his way across your lips. When he brushed his tongue against yours and took possession of your mouth, you mewled. Desire nearly blinded you from the taste of him.

I want more.

"I don't want our date to end," you breathed, clutching his arms to steady yourself.

"It doesn't have to," he said, resting a hand on your hip. His eyes were dark and full of want. To have him look at you that way, how could you possibly end the evening with one kiss? Why deny yourself what you both wanted?

"No, it doesn't," you agreed with a coy smile. "So. My place or yours?"

So. How do we think the evening will go? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[layla-keating]

♪ Ayy, where the party at? Girls is on the way, where the Bacardi at? Bottles and models, talkin' all of that You know I can't forget about my thugs Where the party at? And all my girls Where the party at? Off in the club Where the party at? If the party's where you're at, let me hear you say ♪

OLIVIA JAMES & SPENCER JAMES ALL AMERICAN | 6.15 "I Do (Part II)"

[jupiterisaroace]

Guys

I understand shipping glassheart but shipping the REAL people with each other is a little much. They have a life & how does it feel when parents or friends think you & one of your friends see you & think y’all are in a relationship even though y’all say y’all aren’t after a million times? It gets annoying & I bet the actors might feel this way too. From what I know, they haven’t said anything about this yet but still, if they see this stuff it might make them stop posting about each other & showing affection towards each other as well. @glassheartzz has talked about this as well & I 100% agree with them. I also looked up if Ruby Rose & Joshua were dating because some photos & videos made it look like they were & from what I read (& correct me if I’m wrong) they aren’t. Stop shipping real people, especially celebrities who you don’t even know, together because it can probably get annoying to them after a while. I mean, just 3 friends shipping you with your other friend could be annoying so imagine over hundreds of people, who you don’t even know, shipping you with your friend. It could definitely be annoying to them. Please stop shipping celebrities together.

[nkp1981]

Star Wars voice actors with their live-action counterparts