#and all it took for annette was seeing his eyes 😭 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sothisblessmysoul · 5 years ago

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Aaaa ur writing is adorable!! May i humbly ask for sylvain being dragged into the future and he's super surprised to see him and his crush being married and having kids😳😳 and he's just "OH" just all around fluff😭😭😭

{Aw, thank you. But you’re probably more adorable. I don’t know if this is cute enough. I tried.}

༓ʚ Days To Come ɞ༓

Summary: Sylvain reacts to being thrown into the future, surprise to discover that he is married and have children with his long-time crush.

This is the last time he’ll help Annette practice with a new spell. Sylvain thought warily, on edge as he scanned the room. By the design and items placed within, this is someone’s house. That realization instantly put him on guard. Sylvain cursed at the fact that he had no weapon, leaving him vulnerable to any attacks.

Quietly as possible, Sylvain creeps towards the door and as it is opened. His brown eyes meet another pair of eyes that were wide with both shock and fear. “Hey, hey. Shhh.” Cautiously Sylvain got down to eye level with the small child, in hopes that the child won’t make any sounds.

But by the quivering of the lips and the small tears forming in the child’s doe eyes. Sylvain knew his fate was sealed by doom. The small child released a loud, piercing scream that possibly deafened him.

Before he could react, the child shoot off in a random direction down the long hallway. Once again, Sylvain cursed at the fact that he’s weaponless. This will make escaping more difficult. He thought.

Shortly after the encounter with the small shrieker. Sylvain moves slowly throughout the house, going quietly into each room when he hears footsteps coming by. So far, he hadn’t been caught. Or he had thought until someone had spoke from behind him. “Sylvain?” He froze, startled that this mysterious person knew him.

“When did you come home?” Sylvain was beyond confused and more startled when suddenly arms wrapped around him, the mysterious person laying their head against his back. Neither speak, the silence eating away the minutes going by.

“Dear? What’s the matter?” The hands that belonged to this mysterious person let go and started to walk around him, attempting to see his face. Sylvain didn’t act fast enough to avoid them.

He stared at you, dumbfounded. But you weren’t you. Or you weren’t the you that Sylvain knew. You look different. Taller, older, and so forth. Apparently you’re just as surprised by his appearance. Neither of you broke eye contact with one another. Until your eyes lit up, as if a light-bulb went off above your head.

“You’re from the past, aren’t you?” You questioned, scooting closer to study his face, “Maybe?” Sylvain didn’t know how to answer. “Did you help Annette with a spell?” You couldn’t help the small smile that struggled to not show when Sylvain nodded his head. “Judging by your question from earlier and knowing about the spell. I am assuming you’re from the future?” By the grin that came across your face was a silent yes.

“Come with me.” You took his hand, not even allowing him to have a choice. But as you pulled out of the room that the both of you were in and down the hall. He didn’t know how to explain it exactly. Your hand felt right in his, like it’s meant to hold.

Sylvain studied how your hand looked in his. Until catching the sight of the small ring on your wedding finger. “Your married?” He asked in shock as you glanced back, “Yes.” You answered, continuing and entering a room.

“We’re married.” Sylvain muttered, not believing what is before him. “Is that a surprise?” You replied with arms crossed, eyebrow raised and a thinly hidden smirk. “Um, no, it’s just… I don’t know.” He traveled off, unsure of what to say.

Meanwhile your eyes softened, walking to him and placing taking hold of his hand again. “Getting married, having children, and living each day with you.” You started with a sweet smile. Letting go of his hand, you brought Sylvain over to look at a large portrait.

“I’ve loved all of those moments.” You turned back, watching Sylvain react to the portrait as you looked back at it. It’s you, him, and your children. Sylvain studied each of his future children’s face. “They take after you.” You nudge him a little, bumping one another’s shoulder into the other.

Sylvain turned to you, taking into how you looked again. “Where am the me of this timeline?” He questioned as you walked over to the large wall that was lined with countless books. “You left to go on a mission. Requested by our King Dimitri.” You calmly answered, half-focused on trying to find a specific book.

You paused to glance back at Sylvain, this time it was your turn to take in his appearance. He was very young. You thought, finger hovering over the desired book. “Judging by the fact that you’re wearing the Officers Academy’s uniform.” You started, returning to find the book and, with a quiet hum of delight, you grabbed the book. “You’re are either five or six years into the future.”

Sylvain couldn’t believe what you said. That in the future, he’ll have this wonderful life with you. But before everything can settle into his brain, both of your attentions are captured by the sound of the door opening. “Is the weirdo gone?” A familiar, tiny voice speak. Which made you laugh loudly. “He isn’t a weirdo. He is a time traveler.” You said in a very playful tone. As not one nor two, but three little children turned to him with eyes full of wonder.

He was taken back - which Sylvain never thought children would be able to do - by the three children rushing over to him in pure, innocent delight. “Can you do magic?” The two asked at once, “No, no!” The smallest young loudly said, jumping up and down. “Have you seen a dragon? Can you show us a dragon?”

Sylvain turn to you with an awestruck expression as all three of them were now yelling about wanting to see a dragon. You laughed once again, moving towards all of them and placing a kiss upon each child’s head. “Leave the poor time traveler alone.” You said, sinking down to their eye level.

The sight before him was so warm and endearing that Sylvain couldn’t fight off the smile. As you give each child a goodnight kiss before they went to bed. “The two older ones remind me of you and Felix. It’s exhausting.” You laughed, sharing a smile that matched Sylvain’s own.

He watched your face fall a little as your eyes laid upon a book that looked similar to the one Annette had been reading when casting the spell. “That’s the same book. It will send you back.” A bittersweet expression came across your face, before continuing, “This happened to your future self. I had only found out about it after our wedding.” You said, wrapping yourself around in your arms.

“What? No, I can’t leave yet. I have questions.” Sylvain rushed over to you, taking over of your hands and holding them against his chest. You were taken back a little, but said with a smile, “What do you want to know?” as he started to stare at the ring on your finger.

After each question was answered patiently, both of you got ready to begin the set up for the spell. As he got into position, countless emotions swirling around. “Sylvain.” Before he could even look up to see you, he was suddenly embraced. Hiding your face from his view, your arms were tightly wrapped around him.

Sylvain returned the embrace, burying his face against the side of your neck. “It’s good to see you.” You pulled away, arms still holding onto him. “I want you to know that me and the children love you.” He stiffed, tears attempting to form in the corner of his eyes.

You smile softly with a gentle look in your eye. “Silly boy.” You cooed, running your fingers through his hair. You pulled away after a minute or two, just enough to give him time to compose himself.

Now it was time. Both of you thought and as he pulled away, allowing you to stand far away to not get caught in the spell. “Sylvain, I need you to do me a favor.” You asked, waiting for his response. “Of course. Anything for you.” Sylvain replied with a charming smile. Which made you laugh a little, the blush on your cheeks barely hidden.

“When you go see the me of your time. Go ask me out. I’m sure that the answer will be yes.” You sent him such a bright smile that it made Sylvain blush a pinkish hue. “I will. It’s a promise.” He grinned as sparkling lights began surrounding him and fading you out of his sight as the spell started. Once the lights faded away and he looked around. Sylvain knew he was back in his time.

Planning to keep his promise to your future self, Sylvain went on a search to find you. It took awhile, neither Ingrid nor Felix made it easy. But as the redhead’s eyes laid on you, flashbacks come of you in the future, of your and his children, and so forth.

He started walking over with the famous, charming smile that’s Sylvain’s signature look. You noticed him coming before your name was called out. “Yes?” You were confused as to why Sylvain, playboy of the year, would come talk to you. “I have an important question.” Although he said it so confidently, the feeling of anxiety still came. “What is it?” You replied, slightly wary of it.

“Do you want to go on a date?” You stare at him in shock, cheeks turning bright red. It took awhile for you to answer as each time you went to spoke, you started to shutter. “Yes.” You answered awkwardly, looking down with blushing cheeks that grew darker.

[ Bonus ]

After helping Sylvain return to the past, you thought about life. How far both you and Sylvain have come. How far you both will in the future. It was hard to not sigh, thinking back of the war.

But the loud sounds of footsteps came closer, you looked towards the door. Sylvain, of this time, walked through the door. He smiled at the sight of you. “I’m back.” He said, coming over to place a kiss upon your forehead. “Welcome back.” You replied with a sigh. Sylvain looked at you confused. Which made you laugh a little.

“It’s nothing. I had just forgotten how adorable you were in our youth.” You explained, moving forward to place a kiss on his cheek. Sylvain’s eyes stare at you after pulling away. “I think you were far cuter.” Sylvain laughed in response and as you look each other in the eye. It’s hard to miss the love inside his gaze. Your husband was the only one who could ever lay his eyes on you and instantly make you fall back in love all over again.

#sylvain x reader #fe3h #fe3h imagines #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem three houses imagine #fluff

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annathesillyfriend · 3 years ago

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He did not expect to walk into the gym at 2 pm on a Monday, and immediately have two twelve-year-old boys at his sides. Bucky glanced at you. You hid a laugh behind your hand, but waved him off to enjoy the curious interrogation.

everybody loves bucky 💙

The children clearly weren’t going to have any issues with him. It was the adults, who ‘knew better’ supposedly, who wouldn’t give him the chance which he deserved.

i've been an adult for 5,5 years and i can most certainly say that adults do not know better

Which is why you wrote his nametag like: Bucky :)

ghgfjhglkflhdsg

“Buckathan.”

😂😂

You thumbed behind you to let Bucky know that you were gonna abandon him to his little quorum. He winked, causing absolutely all of the children gathered to giggle like he had done something extremely silly.

they are so cute ugh i love them

“But I can get him to come over. It’s a superpower I have.”

she's right!!

“How old do you think?” The kid tapped his chin like this was the most puzzling question he had ever been asked. “Forty-One.”

i'm sure he'd be happy to hear that

“He’s really nice,” you whispered to Beckett. “Watch this.” When Bucky was within arm’s reach, you held out your hand. He took it readily and kissed your hand. You looked at Beckett and raised your eyebrows. “See?”

that man, he needs to stop, my standards are way too high already

Now, it made sense why he was so curious about the man with the visible prosthetic–Beckett himself had a 3D-printed, Spider-man-themed forearm, complete with blue webbing, articulated joints, and fingers in cherry red.

peter parker better watch his back!

“Great, Becks. Anything else you wanna say before we go?” “Um. You gotta beard, you like it?”

i found my new brotp, sambucky who

“Awe! I’m your hero? I thought you were gonna get my face on your left butt cheek.” “Just the imprint of your lips.”

😂😂 and 'y/n has here' right next to it

“Matching dagger tattoos?”

when i thought they couldn't be more hot

“No placement?”

i am fuming 😡

“Charlene said she thinks there must’ve been a mistake. She’s looking into it, and she will get back to Janet tomorrow.” The tone of your voice told him that the ‘mistake’ was that she was an idiot who couldn’t see the forest for the trees, and that you had likely told her so.

charlene should hope she won't see mrs barnes any times soon cause i think looks could kill if you'd really want them too 👀

“I love how much you care about people treating me right. But. Sometimes you don’t give me a chance to speak up for myself, and… it makes me feel like you don’t think I’ve got it in me.”

we lov healthy mature behaviour 👏 communication is key!!

“And before you ask–no, they aren’t gonna have any. They’re wonderful babysitters, though, can’t recommend them enough.”

yes, get that promo!! 😂

“They’re so sweet,” Annette said. “He calls him ‘Buckle?’ That’s precious.”

IT IS, ISN'T IT 😭

"How long have you been married?” “Seven in December. God–” You stared at Nat with wide eyes. “Can you believe it?”

no, no i can't 🥺

“You know I’m gonna call ‘em ‘Bucket’, right?”

my brotp has a name already!!

“I think I’m in love with all of you,” Annette said, dazed.

girl same!

“Hey, Mrs. Barnes!” Even in his expressive red mask with black webbing, Peter Parker still looked endearing as he held up a hand. Beckett was silent and shocked.

ahhh i am so happy for him!

There was nothing more beautiful than this. Oh, Bucky had an heir or two. They weren’t his blood, but they had the spirit. The future was still very bright.

Kate 😭😭 this was so wholesome, i feel like i just had the warmest hug ever, thank you so much!

nftn (bonus): the heir

(bucky barnes x female!reader, shield)

summary: bucky starts community service, and meets a boy who might change the stakes.

warnings: bucky holding so many children that you'll be angry at me for the choice for him not to have his own kids in this world.

word count: 5,538

a/n: the fifth companion piece to nftn! i wanted bucky to get a little glimpse of what kind of impact he could have on the world now that he is retired. this is sort of an epilogue, so to speak. enjoy! :)

series masterlist

Bucky had options, according to the parole officer assigned to him; he wasn’t on parole, but Janet was the best person to help oversee the unique conditions of his pardon, considering the resources she had at her disposal in the community. He had been essentially a government agent for half a decade, but it was still expected that once he no longer lived on SHIELD property, Bucky would fulfill the last component of his pardon: community service. He was graciously allowed to choose how he’d like to spend that time.

The choices were… interesting.

One: sanitation duty–consisting of roadside trash pickup, combing the waterfront for needles, emptying garbage cans outside of Yankee Stadium, etc–eight hours a week, for thirty weeks.

Two: he could tutor inmates at Lincoln Correctional four hours a week, for forty-five weeks (with the potential of extension, if there weren’t inmates looking for his particular expertise during a particular season).

Three: he could mentor a child assigned to him through the YMCA. Ten hours a week, for three months.

The requirements were that he attend every single session as himself—no hiding the arm, no shying away from recognition, and that the people in whichever assignment he worked with would know why he was there–and that he serve in the community in which he lived. It wasn’t a hard decision to make; for one thing, he knew the Y in Brooklyn Heights like the back of his hand. He and Steve had been playing basketball there every Wednesday since the Barneses relocated to Brooklyn, and they had a Vets group that he had attended with you a few times on the first Friday of the month. If completing community service meant letting a kid beat him at basketball ten hours a week, Bucky was amenable to that. He was already a first class uncle.

So, why was he so nervous?

***

The first meeting was supposed to be a mixer for potential mentors, parents, the children who would serve as the mentees; the coordinator had sent over the information packet through Bucky’s parole officer, so he expected that he would walk into a room full of a bunch of kids and then the Y would decide which kid would be least intimidated by him.

“Are you a dad or a big brother?” the first kid asked.

For a moment, Bucky’s mind went blank. You touched his elbow. “He’s a big brother,” you offered gently.

“Cool! You like basketball?” the other kid asked, holding up his very own ball with the name OWEN scrawled across it several times in permanent marker. Bucky nodded. The boys pelted him with question after question, and he let himself get pulled into a very disproportionate conversation with the most eager twelve-year-olds in Brooklyn Heights.

You watched him from the snack table with a can of soda in hand. The gym had a large group gathered; it was hard to tell who the mentors were from the parents because the children were so comfortable there, at their neighborhood Y, that they had no stress about running around the gym without their parents at their side. A woman with bright blue hair approached with a nametag in hand.

“Hey! I’m Charlene–are you a parent or a prospective mentor?”

“Neither. My husband is one of the mentors. That one, with the gaggle of children poking his arm.”

You pointed to where Bucky sat on the bleachers, absolutely encumbered with curious little friends, many of whom were patting/poking/staring at his metal arm. He looked very dazed, but he had a pleasant smile on.

“He’s a little nervous,” you explained, taking two nametags from Charlene.

“Oh! Aha. I’m… okay, nice.” Charlene’s cheeks were flushed. “He’s from the… community service program, right?” You nodded. “So he’s…”

“...very eager to be a positive influence in the life of a child in his community.” You raised an eyebrow.

Charlene obviously was the coordinator who was privy to Bucky’s file. You had expected reticence from people in the program, but you hadn’t let Bucky put two brain cells towards worrying about it. It was hard enough that he was expected to be open about his past with a community of people who he’d have to go on living with long after his service was up. Bucky probably believed it made sense that they’d worry about him being there, but to you… he’d worked so hard to change his name from something worth fearing to something innocuous and indistinguishable from any other brown-haired blue-eyed Brooklynite. The children clearly weren’t going to have any issues with him. It was the adults, who ‘knew better’ supposedly, who wouldn’t give him the chance which he deserved. That was the whole reason you came. Bucky had given you a hug of relief when you nonchalantly mentioned coming with him to the mixer, but he just felt safer knowing you’d be there to ground him, if nothing else.

Which is why you wrote his nametag like: Bucky :)

You walked away from whatever Charlene was trying to say to make up for the fact that she was so awkward about him, peeling your own name tag from its backing (‘Bucky’s wife Y/n’) and slapping it over your heart. Bucky perked up when he spied you over the heads of the kids at his feet. You extended his nametag.

“Here, love.”

Bucky chuckled at the smiley face beside your unmistakable handwriting, and put on his own name tag. The kids chittered.

“Bucky!”

“Is that your real name?”

“I bet it’s short for somethin’, like I’m JJ but it’s Jerald Joseph–”

“Buckathan.” (Peals of laughter followed.)

“Thanks, doll,” Bucky said, finally. You shared a look of total amusement, and a few of the kids turned their attention to you.

“You’re his wife?” a little boy asked, pointing incredulously at Bucky.

You held up your left hand to display your wedding band. “Sure am.”

“You’re pretty.”

“Thanks,” you laughed. You thumbed behind you to let Bucky know that you were gonna abandon him to his little quorum. He winked, causing absolutely all of the children gathered to giggle like he had done something extremely silly.

Love you, you mouthed. His attention was drawn away thereafter, so you took a seat a little ways off, to do some people watching (and make sure that Charlene’s little flustered episode was the only instance of adult idiocy for the rest of the hour that the gathering was expected to last).

A little while later, a finger poked your arm. You turned your head to find a boy, couldn’t be more than ten, staring at you a bit too close.

“Hi.”

“Hey!” You patted the chair beside you, and the kid sat right away. He blinked.

“You know him?” the soft voice asked. He was sitting on his hands.

“I do. That’s my husband, Bucky.”

“Oh. I wanna talk to him, but the other kids are too close.”

“They’re not really respecting his personal space, are they,” you said gently. “But I can get him to come over. It’s a superpower I have.”

“But then the kids will follow him, too.”

“You’re probably right. Do you wanna know stuff about him?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, like what?”

“How old is he?”

You snickered. “How old do you think?”

The kid tapped his chin like this was the most puzzling question he had ever been asked. “Forty-One.”

“You’re close,” you deadpan.

“Why’s his arm like that?”

“Well. He had an accident, and the doctor decided that he needed to get a new one, because his old arm just didn’t work anymore.”

“Does he like it?”

“That’s a good question. Do you like it?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty cool. Can he take it off?”

“Yep.”

“Probably gotta do that if he takes a bath or somethin’.”

“Probably,” you agreed. The boy watched Bucky intently, with such a laser focus that it seemed like he had more he wanted to ask but didn’t quite know how. “What’s your name?”

“Beckett Daniel Jordan.” His head bobbed after each of his given names.

“Hey, Beckett. Who came with you today?”

He pointed at a woman on the opposite side of the gym, who was watching his conversation with you with a gentle smile on her face. She held up a hand, and you returned the gesture. “My mom.”

“You wanna introduce me?”

He slid off the plastic chair and tugged your wrist. Bucky watched you out of the corner of his eye, laughing like of course you got adopted, too. Beckett patted his mom’s back, still holding onto your sleeve.

“Here’s my mom,” he said.

“Y/n,” you volunteered. She smiled.

At the head of the gym, Charlene clapped her hands loudly to get everyone’s attention. “We have about five more minutes before we’re going to wrap things up! Parents, make sure you fill out your placement cards, and drop them in the box before you head out.”

Beckett groaned, as did several of the other kids. His mom smiled at you.

“Annette Jordan. Beckett, did you wanna go talk to anybody else before the time is up?” Clearly she was embarrassed that her son had co-opted so much of your time, but Beckett shook his head vigorously.

You glanced at your husband. He raised an eyebrow at you. You pointed subtly at the kid at your side. Bucky said something quietly to the children gathered around him, and indicated to you; several of the kids laughed, covered their mouths, and then they scattered. He stood. You felt little fingers tighten on your sleeve.

“He’s tall.”

“Hello,” Bucky said, nodding to Annette. She had one hand on Beckett’s back, and he made a bridge between the two women at his sides.

“Can I introduce you to my friend Beckett?” you asked.

Bucky affected that lopsided smirk that had the power to disarm most people who got nervous around him. “Yeah, of course.”

“Beckett, this is Bucky.” You tried to dislodge your sleeve from his grip, but Beckett wouldn’t relent. You knelt down so you were at his eye level, and Annette rubbed his shoulder in reassurance. The little boy was very shy of the man so much taller than him, now that he wasn’t separated from him by a wall of children.

“Hey. You wanna show them your cool new thing?” Annette whispered. Beckett nodded.

He pulled his right arm out from behind his mom’s back. She helped him cuff his sleeve. Now, it made sense why he was so curious about the man with the visible prosthetic–Beckett himself had a 3D-printed, Spider-man-themed forearm, complete with blue webbing, articulated joints, and fingers in cherry red. He made a fist, and then punched the air between you dramatically. His cheeks were flushed pink, but he giggled proudly.

“Whoa! That’s awesome!” You held out your fist, and Beckett bumped it.

Bucky took a knee. You didn’t dare look at him because you felt him wrap his warm fingers around your elbow to keep himself grounded. He let out a long whistle.

“I am officially jealous,” Bucky said solemnly, but his voice had a lilt of humor in it. “You just got that, bud?”

Beckett ignored the question in favor of punching the air once again, kicking it for good measure. Annette laughed. “Friday. You can see we’re still very excited.”

“Hey!” Beckett pointed at Bucky. “Can you do this?” He did his best approximation of fighting something in front of him, and stumbled a little, catching himself on Bucky’s arm.

“That’s some fancy footwork–where’d you learn all that?” Bucky raised his elbow to help Beckett restabilize, but the kid patted the vibranium with his own plastic fingers.

“He watches a lot of Spider-man videos on YouTube,” Annette explained.

“You like Spider-man?” Beckett asked.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Bucky cupped his hand conspiratorially. “Spider-man is a friend of mine.”

If smoke could’ve come out of Beckett’s ears, it would have. “He IS?”

“Yeah,” Bucky confirmed. “Do you want me to tell him you say ‘hi?’”

“Can you call him right now?”

Annette sighed. “Beckett–”

“He doesn’t really carry a phone on him,” Bucky explained. “But I can tell you that he’s really nice, and he’d definitely be jealous of your moves.” He held up his hand, and Beckett gave him a hyperactive high-five, prosthetic to prosthetic.

“You can be my big brother, okay?”

“We’ll see who they pair you with, Beck. But we can tell Miss Charlene that you really liked meeting Bucky, yeah?”

Beckett shook his head. “We’re the same, so it’s gotta be him.”

Annette looked between you and Bucky for help. The assignments weren’t guaranteed, and the organizer had been very clear that they would pair children with mentors based on a complicated set of requirements, and not based on the preferences of either the child or the mentors. The best Annette could do was write Bucky down on Beckett’s placement card and hope for the best. You subtly held up your phone, and passed it over to the woman.

“You know, Beckett, maybe we’ll run into you later!” you smiled at the boy, who was patting Bucky’s shoulder like he might pat a good dog’s head. “Could happen.” Annette handed your phone back. You sent her a quick text.

“You live in Brooklyn Heights?” he asked Bucky specifically.

“Pretty close.”

“Whoa–can you make the pieces move?” Beckett watched several plates shift and settle over Bucky’s synthesized bicep. Bucky shifted his shoulder back, and then rolled it so Beckett could see the way the plates rippled down to his fingers. Beckett’s jaw dropped. “That’s so cool!”

“Hey, can you tell me how Bucky spells his name so I can write it on your card?” Annette posed with her pen over the paper. Beckett touched Bucky’s nametag.

“B. U. C. K. Y.”

“Great, Becks. Anything else you wanna say before we go?”

“Um. You gotta beard, you like it?”

You, Bucky, and Annette shared a delighted laugh at Beckett’s very important final query. Bucky scratched his cheek. “Well, um. She–” he pointed at you– “really likes it, and I kinda like her.”

“I like her too.” Beckett patted your arm, and for a second he stood there patting the both of you. “Okay, bye!”

“Beckett!” Annette called after the boy, who had turned on his heel and ran in the direction of the gym door. He stopped, but he waved like she was the one holding him up. She smiled at you both. “Really nice meeting you guys. Think you made his whole week, Bucky.”

“It’s mutual,” Bucky said gently. You both stood and waved as the Jordans departed the gym, amongst the sea of families and prospective mentors. You linked your arm through Bucky’s.

“You’re a hit!”

Bucky lead you out of the Y. The two of you practically skipped down the sidewalk, high on delight from the sweet interaction with Beckett and his mom. Bucky laced your fingers together and tucked them into his coat pocket.

“Can you believe how cool his prosthetic was? Peter is gonna love it when I tell him,” Bucky said, once you had outpaced the little crowd from the Y.

“If you think I’m not gonna call him to make a special stop in Brooklyn Heights…”

“He’ll do it. You’re gonna make Beckett’s dreams come true.”

“I’ll certainly try. But if you’re jealous of Beckett, I’m sure Shuri would print you a Spider-man skin for your arm if you really want one.”

Bucky grinned. “Eh, he’s cool, but he’s not my favorite hero. But it would be kinda weird if your face was my phone background and printed on my shoulder. Although–not that different from getting a tattoo of you.”

“Awe! I’m your hero? I thought you were gonna get my face on your left butt cheek.”

“Just the imprint of your lips.”

You smacked his arm. “That implies that I kiss your ass, James Barnes–”

“You do, just not like you’re implying. Besides, you’re the only person who’s gonna see it.”

“I’m surprised you don’t have a tattoo yet, honestly. Retired for six months and no ink. Disappointing.”

“We could go right now. Get matching portraits of Alpine.”

“But then he’d get a big head, and he’s too cocky as it is. Better settle for something less emotional. Like knives.”

He stopped walking abruptly, ripping you backwards until you collided with his chest. “Hang on–that would be hot.”

“Matching dagger tattoos?”

“Inner forearms?” He bit his lip, waggled his eyebrows.

“Sexy. Retirement is fun!”

Bucky kissed you sweetly. “That mixer was way more fun than I was expecting, I think I’m giddy.”

“As far as government-mandated activities go, it was delightful.”

The two of you carried a heady kind of joy through the rest of the afternoon.

***

That evening brought a shift, and a phone call from Janet. Afterwards, Bucky sat on the back porch steps, staring out at the perfect backyard you two had built for yourselves as if it was a desert. He didn’t even know how to tell you what news he was delivered, but when you handed him a beer and sat beside him… Bucky caved.

“No placement?” You blinked at him, radiating anger. He stood, carding a hand through his hair.

“Apparently there weren’t any suitable matches. Janet thinks the coordinator is full of shit, but–”

“She is. Because from the moment you set foot in that gym, you were surrounded by perfectly delightful kids who were thrilled to be around you, and one in particular wrote your name down right in front of us.” Your phone was out and your thumbs were googling, and the phone was ringing before you could even think. Bucky didn’t realize what you were doing until you greeted the person who answered at the Y front desk– “Hi, can I speak with Charlene, please?”

“Y/n–” Bucky whirled around with a panicked look on his face. “Baby, leave it.”

“Thank you. I don’t mind holding.” You pulled the microphone away from your mouth. “I’m not going to rip her a new one,” you whispered. “I’m just gonna have a word–hi! Charlene. Y/n Barnes. How are you?” You stood and went inside the house, leaving Bucky staring after you in utter devastation.

You protected him from so many things, but most especially the remembrance that not everyone was going to embrace him with open arms. He had steeled himself for so long to get reactions like this. You always jumped in at the first sign that someone would prove him right–he loved you, but god, you were stubborn. It was mortifying. Even with you on his side, it still… made him feel like shit. He could only be so lucky, for so long.

He kicked at the corner of a paver.

He didn’t know how long you were gone, but the light was waning when your arms wrapped around his waist. He patted your hands, but he didn’t know how to explain his frustration to you.

“Hey,” you murmured.

His gaze flicked up to yours. He put his hands on his waist and sighed. “I’m feelin’ something that doesn’t feel fair, but I wanna tell you. You okay if I say what’s on my mind?”

“Go ahead.”

Bucky touched your chin. “I love how much you care about people treating me right. But. Sometimes you don’t give me a chance to speak up for myself, and… it makes me feel like you don’t think I’ve got it in me.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “I… can see why you’d think that.”

He kissed your forehead once, twice. “I’m so lucky to have you on my side, doll. But you’re fightin’ my battles for me, and…” He trailed off. Bucky’s heart was in his throat.

“And not trusting that you know what’s best for yourself, and that you’ll ask for my help if you need it.” You smoothed your hands down his chest. “I’m sorry, Buck. It just gets me so heated.”

“Because you love me.”

“Yeah. An awful lot. I don’t like it when you feel like shit.”

“Next time you feel like you gotta step in on my behalf, check in first? Give me a chance to process with you, and then we can eviscerate organizers at a nonprofit together.”

You winced. “I’m not saying I eviscerated her, I just… asked her what the point was in claiming to support equal treatment for all members of the community, if that grace doesn’t extend to people in the community service programs.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “What did she have to say to that?”

“...That I’m right, and it wasn’t right of her to decide on behalf of any parent in the program that their kid wouldn’t be a good fit for you, since every parent has access to background information on the potential mentors. And um. Guess how many parents pulled their kids from the program when your profile was added to the mix?”

Bucky shrugged.

“None.”

“None,” he repeated, shocked.

“Seems like the parents in this program kind of understand what they’re signing their kids up for. You know Dante who plays with you guys sometimes on Wednesdays? Annette is his wife.”

“Oh my god! That’s–I’ve heard so many stories about his boy, and what she went through with his birth, I… I can’t believe I didn’t put it together. He looks exactly like his dad,” Bucky laughed. “Same eyes, and same propensity for invasive questions.”

You wrapped your arms behind his head. “Is Dante the one who asked you ‘how long you’ve been hitting that’ the day I dropped you off on my way to pick up Nat?”

“The very same. He’s a great guy. Hey–what would you think about inviting them over? I know you got Annette’s number, and it might be fun to have a barbeque with them and the R-R’s.”

You two called Steve and Nat the ‘R-R’s’ long before they went to the courthouse and made it official. Neither changed their names, or wore rings, and for all intents and purposes they appeared unmarried publicly (given that Steve still drew a fair amount of publicity and paparazzi attention, even in retirement), but for the sake of Jamie–and because they loved each other–they were legally bound with you and Bucky by their sides.

You had your phone out again before Bucky even finished the sentence, but you glanced up at him first. To check in. He pulled you close for a lingering kiss.

***

A few days later, two little boys ran circles around one another in your backyard, bobbing and weaving between six adults and a very excitable beagle. Beckett ran slow enough for Jamie to just catch up to him, every ten steps or so. The younger boy was so gleeful that he giggled to the point of mania, and it took his uncle chasing both boys for their energy to wane enough to calm down before hot dogs.

You sat with Annette and Natasha on the back steps, shoulder-to-shoulder. The dads of the party stood in front of the grill, talking about fantasy football in between trying to get Bucky to tell them how he grew his bee balm so tall.

Bucky had one boy under each arm as he finally wrangled them. Benny trotted behind him like he had been the one to do all the work. He set each boy at his mother’s feet, and then sat at yours, dramatically collapsing against your knees in a way that had the boys copying him. He grinned up at you.

“Hey,” you laughed, tucking his hair behind his ears.

“You’re good with them,” Annette observed as Beckett crawled into her arms.

“He’s one of those rare adults who genuinely enjoys children,” Nat said clinically, but she was watching her own little one scoot closer and closer to Bucky so he could hug his elbow. “And before you ask–no, they aren’t gonna have any. They’re wonderful babysitters, though, can’t recommend them enough.”

“What she said,” you said, squeezing Bucky’s shoulders.

“No heir to the Barnes name, then?” Annette kissed Beckett’s head when he laid it on her shoulder.

“Nope. We’ve got a lot of other dreams,” Bucky said succinctly. “More dogs–”

“No,” you said quickly. “One shoe-chewer is enough.” Benny sat at Bucky’s feet and mouthed the toe of his boot.

“Mom, does he like hot dogs?” Beckett whispered his question to his mom.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Miss Natasha, does he–”

“Jamie.”

“Does Jamie like hot dogs?”

“What do you think, buddy?” She touched Jamie’s cheek. He nodded, but he was sleepily squishing his face into the vibranium, and he yawned. “He says he does. Do you?”

“Yeah! My dad says the best hot dogs in the whole world are the ones at baseball games.”

“He’s right,” Bucky agreed. “But Steve’s really good at grilling them, too. Do you wanna go see what he’s doing over there?” Beckett readily agreed, but he also launched himself at Bucky. Your husband tossed the kid over his shoulder and then righted him on his back, forcing him to dislodge Jamie on his other side.

“You comin,’ half-pint?” Jamie reached his hands upwards, even as tired as he was, and Bucky sat him in the crook of his elbow. Then, he stood��one boy cuddled to his chest, ready to pass out, and the older boy riding on his back. He carried them over towards the grill, where they were greeted with much pomp by their fathers.

You invited Benny to take his master’s place by patting your legs. The dog hopped up and licked your cheek, before settling his butt on the stair below you and laying his head on your knee.

“J’s not gonna last long,” Nat murmured.

“You wanna put him down in the guest room? Still got that port-o-crib from Jenny.”

“In a bit. He loves his Buckle. Let him have some cuddle time.” Nat hooked her arm through yours.

“They’re so sweet,” Annette said. “He calls him ‘Buckle?’ That’s precious.”

You grinned. “My sister’s kids started it. They called him that before we were married. It just stuck.”

“She’s ‘Auntie Doll’,” Nat offered.

“How long have you been married?”

“Seven in December. God–” You stared at Nat with wide eyes. “Can you believe it?”

“Nope. Still feels like yesterday. Show her a photo.”

You pulled your phone out–you still used your favorite wedding photo as your lock screen, but you also had the full album saved. You handed it over so Annette could flip through the best day of your life.

Nat shifted beside you. “I’m gonna go grab his BB. You want anything?”

You glanced down at your fur baby as he nuzzled into the palm of your hand. “I’m good.”

Annette shook her head. “I’m okay, thanks Natasha.”

Nat hopped up and went inside. You took your phone back from the woman beside you. “I love that you both wore your uniforms. You still look just as in love now as you did then!”

“Thanks,” you smiled. “Hey… did you get your placement yet for Big Brothers/Big Sisters?”

Annette winced. “Yeah. I haven’t told Beckett yet. He talks about Bucky constantly. I don’t have the heart to tell him that it isn’t gonna happen.”

“Bucky wasn’t placed,” you confided. “They said there were no suitable matches.”

Annette looked at you like you had sprouted a second head. “My son jumped out of his bed this morning and sprinted into my room, full speed, waving his arm around, ready for his daddy to help him put it on so he can ‘be like Bucky.’ My baby knows of one other person in this whole world that has a fake arm like him, and it’s that guy right there. And it helps that Bucky’s a nice guy, but honestly–even if he was a little grumpy around kids, it still would’ve made an impact on my son. God… I’m sorry, that’s got me heated.”

“Oh, you’re preaching to the right person. I lost my mind.” You wrapped your arm over her shoulder and squeezed. “Even if they don’t fix this, I know that we’d love to spend time with you as often as you want. Hell, we can send the boys on an adventure and go get a cocktail.”

“Are we getting drinks?” Nat bounded down the steps with a teddy bear in her arms. Said bear had one arm replaced with a new one made of entirely different fur, a grayish-blue color. She trotted over to Bucky and peeked the bear around Jamie’s back until the little boy grabbed it and snuggled it close. She returned to your side.

“I was telling her about the placement thing,” you explained.

“Such bullshit.” Nat rolled her eyes.

“Bucky and Beckett can still hang out though.”

Annette’s face changed swiftly from disappointment to glee. “You know I’m gonna call ‘em ‘Bucket’, right?”

“Oh. My. God.” You pressed both hands to your cheeks, and your joy pulled the attention of the five boys around the grill. Bucky raised an eyebrow at you, and you waved your hand at him to dismiss the focus. He still handed Beckett off to Dante, who sat his son on his shoulders. Jamie was fully asleep, forehead tucked against Bucky’s neck. He rolled his feet heel-toe to move gently for the sleeping boy.

“What?” he mouthed. You smiled at the sweet man, with his little friend.

“We were talking about you hanging out with Beckett, regardless of the placement issues,” you summarized. “If you’re down for that.”

“I just promised him I’d take him to sit on the first base line at a Mets game, so.”

“You’re gonna spoil my kid, Barnes.” Annette didn’t sound at all bothered by the idea.

Bucky smiled. “Ain’t that what uncles are for?”

“Buck–you want in on this first round?” Steve called from the grill, where he held a heaping plate of finished hot dogs.

“Nah. I’ll eat once J’s down.” Bucky walked to the far side of the yard where your rose bushes were exploding with blooms, to make sure Jamie stayed asleep. He swayed a little, leaned in to smell a flower now and then.

“Jamie is so sweet,” Annette said, leaning back so she could see Nat.

“He’s a lot like his namesake that way.” Nat’s eyes flick to you. “But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Who’s he named after?”

“Bucky. His real name is James, so we went with James Steven after the two most important men in his life. And that teddy he’s holding is ‘Bucky-Bear.’ He’s obsessed.”

“Does that bear have–”

“A vibranium arm? Yep. Nurse Barnes here fixed it after Benny got ahold of his teddy.” Nat nudged you with her shoulder.

“I think I’m in love with all of you,” Annette said, dazed. You laughed, looping your arm with her elbow.

Your phone rang in your pocket, and Bucky’s head swiveled in excitement at the particular ring-tone blaring out of the speaker. “Excuse me for a second,” you murmured to the ladies. You hopped up and strode towards the Jordan boys. “Hey, Beckett–I got somebody on the phone who wants to talk to you.”

“Who?” Beckett pitched himself from Dante’s shoulders into your arms with zero qualms for his own preservation. You caught him, and sat at the little outdoor table, pressing the green button to accept the video call from the one person Beckett would be more excited about than Bucky.

“Hey, Mrs. Barnes!” Even in his expressive red mask with black webbing, Peter Parker still looked endearing as he held up a hand. Beckett was silent and shocked.

“Hey! What’s up, Spider-man?”

“I hear you’ve got a friend I should meet…”

The conversation barely included the little boy for whom the call was intended, but sitting in your backyard with a kid in your lap who idolized your husband, while his parents chatted with two of your closest friends in the world, and your husband rocked his little namesake as he slept… there was no better future you could’ve imagined for yourselves. Who needed a legacy when you had now? This?

There was nothing more beautiful than this. Oh, Bucky had an heir or two. They weren’t his blood, but they had the spirit. The future was still very bright.

***

other drabbles in the nftn world:

the girl

if this is all we have

after prague

what happened in paris

tag list: @peterhollandkait @morticiaofthedead @hogwartsahist0ry @harrietbaudelaire @general-kenobi357 @hawsx3 @subwaysurf45 @nahthanks @sergntbarnes @agni-l @mass-percussion @ayleehweasleyobrien @saranghaey @music-give-me-life @enchantedbarnes @ellebarness @whatamievendoingtherapyperhaps @eloiseishere

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#bucky fic rec

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