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flowersforbucky · 3 months ago

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all's well that ends well to end up with you

bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky isn't going to let an extended mission, a severe thunderstorm, and a delayed flight ruin your first valentine's day together.

word count: 3.8k

warnings/tags: SMUT, 18+ only mdni, oral (m&f receiving), fingering, nipple play, reader is afab, established relationship, no use of y/n, reader is described as being shorter than bucky, fluffy as hell, sweet domesticity

wrote this for my bb @embbarnes 💕 happy (very early) valentine's day, everyone!

Of all the ways you had been hoping to spend the last few hours of Valentine’s Day, over 30,000 feet in the air next to a snoring man who has never heard of deodorant was at the bottom of your list.

You should have seen it coming from the moment that your two day mission was extended to a three day mission, but you naively held out hope that you’d be able to make it back home in time to salvage the second half of the day.

Getting back early enough to keep the seven o’clock dinner reservations that you’d made for a new, upscale steakhouse in Brooklyn would have been possible if a last minute thunderstorm hadn’t delayed your flight back to New York.

Now it’s already half past seven, and you’ll be lucky if you make it back home before midnight.

Truthfully, you don’t care about the dinner reservations. Sure, you’d heard great things about the food and you had been excited to go, but you could easily reschedule the reservations for another time. The only thing that you were truly bummed about was not getting to spend the day with Bucky.

Today is your first Valentine’s Day as a couple, and instead of spending it with him, you’re spending it on a commercial flight with dozens of strangers. You can’t help but wonder how many of them are missing their significant other, too.

If you’d had it your way, you would have woken up to his face this morning. The two of you would have slept in as late as you desired, and had a slow, lazy morning before cooking him brunch. Waffles, sausage and bacon, scrambled eggs with extra cheese and hot sauce – all of his favorites. You would have taken a stroll through the park before stopping at the bakery that you frequent for doughnuts and coffee, and maybe visited the botanical gardens before your dinner reservations this evening.

Bucky had assured you that it wasn’t a big deal and that the two of you would make up for it when you were back home. He patiently reminded you that life doesn’t take holidays and special occasions into consideration when dishing out things such as extended work trips and inclement weather conditions.

Valentine’s Day aside, you simply miss him. You’ve been missing him since the moment you left for Nebraska, and you’re more than ready to be back in his arms. This is not the first time you’ve been apart due to work related trips, but this is by far the longest – a whopping seven days.

You miss the way he wants to keep at least one hand on you throughout the night, the way he talks to Alpine as if she will actually respond, and the way that he hums without even noticing that he’s doing it. All of the seemingly little things that you don’t think much of on a day to day basis, but when you’re apart, make you miss him all the more.

By the time your flight lands in New York and you catch an Uber back to your apartment, it’s nearly eleven o’clock. Bucky, of course, had offered to pick you up from the airport, but you had insisted that you were okay with getting an Uber, not wanting him to get out so late at night in the heavy rain.

Plus, if he had picked you up, it would have ruined your plan to surprise him by stopping by his favorite pizza parlor down the block from your apartment on your way home. Sal’s Pizzeria is always open until midnight, and every year they run specials the entire week of Valentine’s Day on heart-shaped pizzas.

Knowing Bucky, he’s likely been living off of instant Ramen since you left for your trip, so you figure he’ll be ecstatic over a late night pizza. Not to mention, you’re famished yourself – all you’ve eaten since lunch being the pack of Biscoff cookies you’d been given on the plane.

Lugging your suitcase, a backpack, and the large pizza box, you fumble with your keys before unlocking the door and stepping inside.

At first, you assume that Bucky is already asleep. But as you walk down the short hallway, you realize there’s soft music playing from somewhere in the apartment. You don't think much of it, since you know that Bucky prefers playing music as opposed to the television for background noise.

It’s almost completely dark, minus low orange lighting that trickles into the hallway from the kitchen.

“I’m home, baby,” you call softly as you approach the kitchen’s entryway. “I know it’s late, but I brought you some pizza, if you're hun—”

You stop dead in your tracks when you step into the kitchen. Dozens of tea light candles illuminate the room, placed strategically on the island in the middle of the room. And on the countertops, and the shelves – basically any flat surface twinkles with the delicate flames.

You stand frozen as a statue with your mouth agape as you take in the scene before you. In addition to the candles, there’s a spread of food across the island. Plates of delicious smelling pasta, small bowls of soup and glasses of red wine. Tied to the backs of the barstools are red and pink heart-shaped balloons.

It looks straight out of a romance movie.

“Pizza pairs well with pasta, I think,” Bucky's voice breaks you out of your trance. “Can never have too many carbs.”

Your gaze snaps over to where he emerges from the den. He wears a bashful smile, and even in the low glow of the candlelight, you can see the faint hint of blush blooming across the apples of his cheeks. He has his hands behind his back, as if trying to conceal something from you.

“You did all of this?” You ask lamely. Your voice is barely a whisper and contains a noticeable quiver. “For me?”

You can’t wrap your brain around it. No one has ever done anything quite like this for you. All of your ex boyfriends always shrugged off Valentine’s Day, leaving you feeling lucky if you got so much as a card. You’d long ago learned not to expect much of anything. Definitely not anything as intimate and thoughtful as this.

“Of course for you,” he murmurs with a low chuckle. He saunters over to where you’re still standing with the pizza box clutched in your hands, and pulls what appears to be a bouquet of flowers in a large mason jar out from behind his back.

“Who else would it be for? Alpine?” He teases, extending the jar to you. You plop the box onto the counter so that your hands are free to accept the flowers.

Upon closer inspection, you realize the bouquet of flowers are not real flowers.

Well, yes and no – they’re wildflowers, made of out Legos. You can’t help but giggle, remembering how you had mentioned how cute you think the Lego set is when you saw it while buying some groceries at Target a few weeks ago. You giggle even harder when you picture Bucky assembling all of the tiny pieces of the bouquet with his large, vibranium fingers.

Your eyes begin to well with tears that threaten to spill over. You quickly blink them back, not wanting to show just how emotional the ornate, colorful arrangement of plastic flowers is making you.

Not just the bouquet – all of it. The food and the wine, the balloons, the candles, the forties music playing lowly from the record player in the living room – the sheer amount of time and attention that he put into creating such a romantic display, and all from the comfort of your home.

“They’re perfect,” you murmur, wiping away a stray tear with sleeve of your sweater. You place the mason jar of the plastic flowers in the midst of the spread of food in front of you, making the scene complete.

“It’s all perfect.” He opens his arms to you, and you happily melt into his embrace. He smells of his familiar earthy cologne, and you can’t help but inhale deeply, relishing in the comfort of his scent and warmth.

Even if you’d come home to him passed out in bed, you would’ve been ecstatic to just crawl under the covers beside him. All of this is more than you ever would have hoped for.

“All I got you is a lousy heart-shaped meat lovers pizza,” you sniffle against his t-shirt and you feel his chest vibrate with laughter. You know that you have the reasonable excuse of being on an assignment in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere Nebraska for the last week, but you still feel bad.

“Hey,” he murmurs, using his index finger to tilt your face to look up at him. He grins down at you for a moment before tenderly pressing his lips against yours. You melt into him right away, having missed the feeling of his lips on yours in the week that you’ve been apart.

His hands travel to your lower back, pulling you flush against him. Your own hands cradle his face, your thumbs caressing the light dusting of stubble that adorns his cheeks. You can already feel the outline of an erection forming through the thin material of his pajama pants when he pulls away, much to your disappointment.

“I love meat lovers pizza,” he assures you with a smirk. “And I love you. The best present you could give me is coming home to me.”

“Still. I’m going to make it up to you,” you promise with a feather light kiss to his lips. “I promise. First thing tomorrow, I’m going to—”

You’re cut off by a low rumbling noise that sounds from between your bodies – a reminder that you haven’t eaten a substantial meal in twelve hours now. You glance over to the plates of food on the island beside you, inhaling the delicious aroma of the dishes.

“I made an educated guess that you’d be hungry,” Bucky chuckles. He reluctantly drops his hold on your waist and moves to pull the barstool out for you. You hop up, taking your seat in front of a heaping plate of pasta and a bowl of French onion soup. Your stomach growls again at the sight.

“Did you make all of this?” You ask, unable to hide the surprise in your voice. It’s not that Bucky is a bad cook – he has a few go-to meals that are always excellent, but he normally doesn’t stray too far out of his comfort zone.

“I did not,” he admits with a sigh. He takes a seat directly across from you. “I ordered takeout from the bistro down the street before they closed earlier. Heated it all back up when you texted me that you were almost home.”

“Well, it’s fucking delicious,” you mumble through a mouthful of the creamy pasta.

You eat together in the glow of the candlelight, with soft music playing in the background and heavy rain beating down against the windows of your apartment. You talk about everything from the details of your mission to what he did while you were away. The food is delicious, the wine he picked out pairs perfectly, it’s cozy and peaceful and romantic – and you realize that you’re enjoying this so much more than you ever would have enjoyed an upscale steakhouse in downtown Brooklyn.

You both end up being too full of pasta and soup to eat any of the pizza that you’d brought home, but you’re happy that you’ve got a whole pizza to look forward to having for lunch tomorrow.

“Thank you, baby,” you tell him after swallowing the last sip of your wine. “For all of this. It was more than I could’ve hoped for today.”

He reaches across the counter, grabbing your hand in his own and bringing it to his lips. “Of course,” he murmurs against your skin, eliciting goosebumps down your arm. “As much as I wish we could’ve spent the day together, I still wanted to make the last hour of it as special as possible.”

He stands, releasing your hand as he begins to collect the empty plates and glasses. “You go on and get ready for bed, yeah? I’ll clean up in here.”

“Nonsense. It's almost midnight. These dishes can wait until the morning. Just stick them in the sink and come shower with me.”

You don’t even care if the whole apartment still smells of garlic and French onion soup in the morning – you’ve been showering and sleeping without him for the last week, and it’s still technically Valentine’s Day, so you’ll allow the dirty dishes to sit for the next eight hours.

To your pleasant surprise, he needs no further convincing. He piles the dirty dishes into the kitchen sink and puts the uneaten pizza in the fridge while you get the shower water up to temperature. By the time his pajamas fall to the bathroom floor, you’re already standing under the hot stream of water.

He opens the shower door, a cheeky grin spreading across his face as soon as his eyes trail up and down your body. The way he looks at you never fails to make you feel like he’s seeing you naked for the very first time, every time.

His hands immediately come to rest on your hips, easing you back against the cool tiling of the shower wall. “God, I missed you,” he sighs as he massages his fingers into the meat of your hips. The contrast of his warm flesh hand and cold vibranium hand on your waist has you arching into his touch.

“I can tell,” you giggle, pulling his face down to yours by the back of his neck. His mouth slates over yours, his tongue sweeping along your bottom lip. You part your lips for him right away, more than ready to feel and taste him after all of your time away.

He nudges your legs apart with his knee, inserting one of his large thighs in-between your own. You sink your bare pussy onto the expanse of his muscular thigh, dragging your center across him for friction. He kisses you until you’re breathless, and only pulls away to instead latch his mouth over one of your nipples. He rolls it between his lips and tongue, using his hold on your waist to help move you up and down his thigh. He alternates between each nipple, kissing and sucking on each until they’re pert and pebbled.

His erection gains your attention as it juts against your belly. You reach between your bodies, taking his length in your hand and stroking him with ease, the water from the shower making his skin slick.

You whimper above him, desperate for some release. He laughs, peppering kisses across your breasts and up your neck. You feel him smiling into the column of your throat.

“I think you missed me, too,” he murmurs against your pulse point.

“Maybe,” you admit, your voice etched with impatience. “Why don’t we hurry and get out this shower so I can show you just how much I missed you?”

He presses a final kiss to the side of your neck before pulling away and smirking down at you. He reaches over to one of the shelves in the shower, grabbing a loofah and your bottle of body wash.

“I’ll have you know that I showered before you got home,” he says as he squirts a dollop of the gel onto the sponge. “I’m just here for your entertainment – and your convenience, of course. Now turn around.”

You do as he says, turning around to face the shower wall. You brace yourself against the tiles with your forearms, relaxing as he begins to massage the soap across the tops of your shoulders and down your back.

He takes his time, lazily rubbing the skin of the backs of your thighs before reaching around and doing the same to your stomach and chest. As good as it feels, all you can focus on is the head of his cock nudging against the curve of your ass.

“Bucky.”

The word comes out somewhere between a moan and a warning – a warning that if he doesn’t finish lathering your body in the next two seconds so you can rinse the fuck off, you’re going to take matters into your own hands.

“What is it, baby?” he asks innocently, stepping forward ever so slightly so that his cock inches between the space where your thighs meet your ass.

You turn back to face him, grabbing the loofah out of his hand and tossing it to the opposite end of the shower. The stream of water that beats down against your bodies washes the suds down the drain.

“You’re really going to tease me like that? On Valentine’s Day, of all days?”

“Pretty sure it’s after midnight now,” he quips with a smirk.

You turn so that you’re out of the direct line of the water, and lower yourself to the shower floor. His cock bobs inches in front of your face. You grasp him in your hand, languidly stroking his length as you stare up at him.

“Then I guess you’re lucky that I missed you so much.”

He opens his mouth to retort, but snaps it shut with a sharp intake of breath when you wrap your lips around his tip. You swirl your tongue around him, lapping up the beads of pearlescent white that had gathered around his slit. You begin to bob your head, taking more and more of him into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat.

Above you, he throws his head back and hisses at the sensation. His metal hand cradles the back of your head, guiding your movements. You gag at the overwhelming fullness, pulling away from him for air. You ease him back into your mouth, setting a steady pace. He rocks his hips forward, meeting your movements with his own.

In one hand, you cup his balls, gently massaging the sack. With your free hand, you attempt to relieve the growing ache between your own thighs by rubbing quick circles over your clit. The thrusts of his hips start to grow erratic, and you feel him twitch against your tongue when he suddenly pulls away from you.

“Not gonna cum in your mouth,” he answers when he looks down to see your questioning stare. “Not tonight. Missed you too much.”

He pulls you up by the tops of your arms and eases you back against the shower wall once more. He then takes your place on the floor, kneeling in front of you. He trails kisses along the wet skin of your thighs as he hooks one over his shoulder. He wastes no more time, diving into your pussy. His tongue swirls over your clit as he brings one long, metal finger to tease your hole. He nudges it inside as his lips suction around the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top of your folds.

Your body goes relaxed, your back sliding down the wet tiling of the shower wall. Bucky helps support you from down below as he sinks his vibranium digit deeper inside you.

The coil in your lower belly tightens quickly, pent up from a whole week without his touch. He can always tell when you’re close by the little noises that you make and the way that you tug on the short brown locks of his hair with your fingers.

He groans as he licks a thick strip up your slit, sending you over the edge. Your orgasm washes over you, your cunt clenching around his thick vibranium finger as he sucks your clit until you go still above him.

It's then that it hits you that the water from the shower has started to run cold.

“Come on,” Bucky says, rising as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He turns the faucet off and grabs the two towels that hang over the glass wall of the shower, handing you one before wrapping his around his waist. “Let's get out of here. I’ve got one more gift to give you before we continue this.”

“Another gift? You’ve already done so much. I didn’t even get—”

He gently shushes you with a sly grin, exiting the shower before you can protest any further. You pat your skin dry before securing the towel around your chest and then follow him into your shared bedroom.

Alpine is snoring softly at the foot of your king sized bed, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re even home. Everything is exactly as you left it, from the stack of half finished books on your nightstand to the orange Himalayan salt rock lamp that hasn’t been turned off a single time since the two of you moved into the apartment together. The comfort and familiarity of everything makes you feel all the more grateful to be back home.

You grab a bottle of lotion off of your bedside table and begin lathering it onto the skin of your legs as you watch Bucky rummage through the drawer of his own nightstand. After a moment, he pulls out a small, dark red colored box.

“Catch!” He warns before gently tossing it across the bed to you. You catch it, a smile blooming across your face as you sooth your thumb over the velvet material encasing the small box. He walks over to your side of the bed to stand beside you.

You raise the lid to box, revealing a dainty gold chain with a capital letter B dangling in the center.

You think it’s perfect. It’s isn’t overly ostentatious – it’s the perfect size, and so very you.

“Do you like it?” Bucky asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“I love it,” you assure him, overwhelmed by how sweet and thoughtful he is. “Help me put it on?”

You don’t care that it’s the middle of the night, you want it on you right now.

Bucky takes the box from you, carefully removing the necklace. You turn away from him, letting him drape the delicate chain around your neck. The charm lands just below your clavicle.

“There,” he murmurs as he clasps the chain together. You turn back to face him, letting him see his initial displayed across your chest. “Perfect.”

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper as you raise up on your feet to press your lips to his. The light flavor of your slick lingers on his lips, sending a fresh wave of arousal through your gut. “So much.”

“Of course,” he murmurs against your mouth. “Now lay down. Wanna see how it looks on ya without the towel.”

••••••

thanks so much for reading!! comments and reblogs are very appreciated ♡

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes imagine

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retrosabers · 4 months ago

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𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

FICMAS DAY 3: GIFT-GIVING

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: as bucky’s secret santa, you’re determined to give him the best christmas present he’s ever received.

contains: grumpy buck fluff, some angst, idiots who are crushing hard, swearing

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is a long one i’m apologizing in advance

i am SO SORRY for crickets in the ficmas department the past week, i hit a big brick wall with this and i’ve been so all over the place with my own holiday planning and such that i ended up having to cut the masterlist in half because i knew i couldn’t get it all done. i’m very sorry to anyone who was looking forward to what got scrapped, but i couldn’t bring myself to rush through writing and put out something i don’t believe it my best work.

also, do people even want avengers fix it fics anymore?? i debated between the “everything is fine the team lives at the compound together” vibe and setting this post tfatws, but ultimately decided the former was easier to write. and i think it worked in my favor because this turned out really cute :)

!! divider by @strangergraphics !!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.

who’s idea was this again? wanda? tony? steve? it didn’t matter anymore. all that mattered right now was that you didn’t pass out in the elevator. a feat that was becoming more and more difficult the closer you got to your destination.

a secret santa is supposed to bring you joy, not near paralyzing anxiety.

at first, you were 100% on board with participating in a gift exchange. as much as you wanted to shower all of your teammates with presents galore, not everyone shared the same sentiment, and thus the idea of a secret santa was proposed.

excitement courses through your veins as you reach your hand into the cheap santa hat tony grabbed from god knows where in storage, with little pieces of paper containing the names of your fellow avengers. you decided to wait until you were back in the privacy of your room to open it up, afraid of any wandering eyes taking a peak. the last thing you wanted was the element of surprise to be stripped away. it was half the fun after all.

as sam pulls the last name, you quietly excuse yourself and all but rush upstairs, too eager to get in the holiday spirit and brainstorm. as soon as the door shuts behind you, you hurriedly reveal the contents of the paper.

if it’s natasha, i can get her a pair of ballet slippers. she’s been mentioning how she wants to start dancing again.

what about bruce? maybe a journal for all his ideas? he always seems to be losing sticky notes in the lab.

a million different ideas swirl around in your head, reminding you just how much joy this time of year brings. to you, there was nothing better than seeing the gleeful looks on people’s faces when they opened their gifts. the corners of your mouth turn up at the memory of your first christmas with the team. how shy and reluctant you were, afraid of going overboard. now, a few years later, you’re completely unabashed in showing just how much you care about them.

your bright smile morphs into a deep frown as you unfold the paper.

bucky barnes.

quite possibly the most difficult person you could’ve chosen.

to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with bucky. he may be a bit grumpy and standoffish, but it’s with good reason and you know it. that also doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to be impossible to try and shop for.

what do you get for the man who seemingly despises anything the modern world has to offer? the same man who you’re 99% sure hates your guts. come to think of it, how did you even pull him? he most definitely wasn’t downstairs 20 minutes ago when everyone scribbled down their names and tossed them in tony’s direction.

it was irrelevant now. you were stuck being his secret santa, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give james buchanan barnes the best christmas gift he’s ever gotten in his century-long lifetime.

the two weeks it took to come up with an idea sure felt like a century. if it wasn’t for the concerning amount of snooping you did, you’d probably be showing up empty handed. thankfully, at almost 1 in the morning on a random tuesday, a lightbulb went off in your brain. you scrambled bright and early the next day to go shopping, and by some lucky form of divine intervention, you acquired the perfect gift.

flash forward to now, and you’re carrying an insanely large box up to bucky’s room. in a blatant stray from what the rest of the team was doing, you decided to give him his present one on one, secluded from everyone else. partly because you were afraid of public embarrassment if he hated it, and partly because you knew bucky wasn’t very fond of being put on display.

you hope he’ll at least be grateful for that.

when the elevator finally chimes, signaling you’ve arrived at the dormitory floor, the box nearly slips from your grasp. not just from how heavy it was, but from the nervous sweat coating your palms.

the hallway is quiet enough to hear a pin drop, save for the faint sound of christmas music playing over the speakers. with careful, calculated steps, you make your way down the length of the corridor, dragging your feet the closer you get to bucky’s room. there’s a small part of you that hopes he’s downstairs in the gym, the kitchen, the backyard, anywhere but here. dropping and dashing wasn’t what you had in mind, but the anxious thumping of your heart was becoming unbearable. you know it will only amplify tenfold if you’re forced to stare into those steel blue eyes of his. the thought alone sends a chill down your spine.

you freeze in place when you hear the sound of a door knob clicking open.

please be wanda’s room, please be wanda’s room.

in front of you, the very last door on the left creaks open, revealing the tall and brooding super soldier whose company you were aiming to avoid.

it’s easy to forget how handsome bucky barnes is when he normally does nothing but grimace in your direction.

you still weren’t used to his new haircut, but it was clear he felt significantly more confident with it. is that a hint of aftershave, or cologne? whatever it was, the scent fit him perfectly; cedarwood with a hint of spice. the green henley he wears fits snugly against his broad frame, emphasizing all the muscles you’ve been caught staring at on more than one occasion. for once, he’s not wearing a scowl, though that changes when he catches sight of you.

surely you must look strange, standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hall with a box covered in santa-printed wrapping paper and a big bow that you can barely hold. right now the floor opening up and swallowing you whole was at the top of your wish list. and st. nick better make it quick.

bucky’s expression shifts from one of disdain to curiosity as he quirks a brow wordlessly. your own knit together in frustration, knowing you now had no choice but to do this exchange face to face.

“need any help?” he questions monotonously. as much as you want to be prideful and reject it, your arms feel like they’re going to fall off any second. he seems to catch your drift despite a verbal response, because in the blink of an eye he’s striding towards you, sweeping the gift from your arms and into his own with ease. you try not to gape at the way his biceps strain against fabric.

you stutter out a “thanks,” as you straighten out your sweater. bucky grunts in return and eyes the package in his hands cautiously. you’re half expecting him to shake it like a child when you catch the tiniest twitch of his upper lip.

it’s the closest thing to a smile he’s ever shown in your presence. something that gives you the courage to actually form a sentence instead of continuing to gawk at him.

here goes nothing.

“this is for you, actually,” you manage to shakily breathe out. bucky halts his observations, a glimmer of surprise briefly dancing across his face.

a beat of silence passes between you. “don’t remember asking for anything," he finally says. it’s still laced with his typical dry sarcasm, but there’s a legitimate amusement in his tone that can’t be missed.

you narrow your eyes at him playfully, feeling a little bit more at ease now that he didn’t completely rebuff you.

“i’m your secret santa, smartass,” you jab with your hands on your hips.

for the first time ever, bucky smirks at you.

“don’t recall asking for that either.��

you throw your hands up in defense, offering him a surprisingly nonchalant shrug. “don’t blame me, i’m pretty sure steve was the one who put your name in.”

“punk,” the man grumbles. he shakes his head, attention turning back to the present in hand once more.

despite his apparent annoyance, you can’t seem to stop yourself from continuing on.

“i know you’re supposed to do this kind of thing with everyone around,” you start off shaky, afraid of upsetting him any more than you may already have. his gaze immediately falls to you upon hearing your voice.

“i also know you’re not a big fan of being the center of attention,” you continue, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “figured you’d like this better if it was in private.”

bucky’s features soften. his jaw unclenched, his eyes not so narrow and judgmental. he looks relieved, flattered; a myriad of things you can’t name or place.

“i appreciate that,” he admits, suddenly shy and impish. for a second, he completely forgets about the gift you brought. the simple fact that you were kind enough to consider his feelings, despite how cold he could be to you, makes his heart skip a beat.

you simply nod your head in reply, teetering back and forth on your feet awkwardly trying to decipher your next move.

“you don’t have to open that right now you know.”

he sets the box down on the floor next to his door. “kinda defeats the purpose don’t you think?”

you shrug. “whatever you’re comfortable with. doesn’t matter what you’re “supposed to do.””

why did you care so much about his comfort level? he hardly showed any concern for yours. the notion consumes his thoughts, prohibiting him from offering anything except a nod of acknowledgement.

that awkward silence comes once again, signaling maybe you’ve overstayed your welcome, or that the moment of peace is over. you check your watch in hopes that father time was ending this exchange for you.

just your luck, he’s right on schedule.

“i uh, better get downstairs,” you announce, pointing your thumb in the direction of the elevator. “don’t wanna miss thor forcing everyone to do christmas karaoke.”

a noise akin to laughter snorts out of bucky’s nose, evoking a delightful warmth in your chest. it was different than all the other times you’ve been flustered in the presence of the super soldier. this was less about intimidation and more about…camaraderie. now wondering if maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought.

it’s exactly what you need to reignite your holiday cheer and shed any remaining worries.

before you can second guess, you turn on your heels, closing the gap between your bodies. wrapping a hand around his arm, his metal arm, and offering a gentle caress, the sincerity in your words is clear as day.

“merry christmas buck.”

your touch burns straight through vibranium all the way to his chest. across his entire body, igniting every cell ablaze. a fire consuming him in ways unimaginable.

and yet. he enjoyed the burn.

as you pull away, much to his dismay, the tips of his fingers brush against the inside of your wrist. goosebumps errupt on your skin, from the cool metal, or that fact that bucky was so pretty this close, only time would tell.

“you too,” he murmurs with a faint grin. the soft crinkles by his eyes are likely going to be the subject of your daydreams for the next week.

you flash him a smile over your shoulder before turning down the hall and averting his gaze, not wanting him to see just how much you were blushing.

while unbeknownst to you, bucky was now a very bright shade of red.

he waits until he can hear the elevator doors close before slipping back into his room and very carefully unwrapping the box. there’s a nervousness in his stomach that’s unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. as the bare brown packaging becomes exposed, he begins ripping back the numerous layers of packing tape. you really took your time on this, he thinks to himself.

that funny feeling only amplifies when he sees the contents of the box.

a record player, a very expensive looking one at that, sits inside with another three wrapped items that he concludes are vinyls, judging from their flatness. on top of it all, there was a small note shrouded in luxe stationary. bucky’s heart stutters when he sees his name scribbled delicately in your handwriting.

his fingers falter briefly before he digs into the envelope.

i know this isn’t like the ones from the 40s, but it’s the closest thing i could find. also got a few of your favorite records, and one i think you’ll like too. don’t forget i have quite a collection of my own in case you ever want to try something new.

merry christmas ♡

bucky unceremoniously plops down on the edge of his bed. the normally stiff feeling mattress now mirrored a sea of clouds and feathers. he’d gladly sink into the abyss of softness, if it meant pumping the brakes on his thundering heartbeat.

from the moment he met you, bucky knew he was in trouble.

you had an aura about you that was magnetic, always drawing people in and bathing them in your light. your unconditional kindness and consideration, hell, even your mere presence in a room seemed to liven it up entirely. it was a hypnotizing, almost dangerous thing for the man, and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to push people away. for their sake, and his. bucky was certain that once he started keeping his distance, that you’d eventually give up in trying to crack his tough outer shell, or that the silly feelings he had would disappear.

but right now, as he’s staring at your handwriting and rubbing his thumb repeatedly over that little heart, he knows it was all in vain.

later that night, he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the familiar croon of it’s been a long, long time wafting from his present. he tries to focus on the beauty of the song, or the lights he can see from his window twinkling out on the lawn, but it’s nearly impossible. you’re the subject of all his thoughts. have been since the moment he saw you standing out in the hall. from the scent of your perfume to the little intricacies of your penmanship. the thing that’s plaguing him the most, however, is your hand on his arm.

bucky’s real arm had been gone for over half a century, having stopped experiencing phantom limb syndrome ages ago. yet somehow he felt it there, clear as day. the same tactile sensations on his flesh, right arm, in the metal prosthetic of his left. an electric shock that he’s never recognized before, and that he wouldn’t be opposed to feeling again.

tomorrow, he plans to thank steve for mischievously adding his name into the lottery.

and to ask you about your record collection.

thanks for reading! <3

tag list: @alastor-simp @j4desblurbs @pandapetals

!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!

#retrosabers #sid writes shit #ficmas #ficmas 2024 #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #sebastian stan

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ailoda · 4 months ago

Text

updated: 09.03.25

ᯓ★ smut

Delirium (✘): stranded in the middle of the alaskan wilderness with no means of communication after being exposed to a foreign drug, you're reluctant to accept help from the one person who has a shot at saving you. - avenger!reader (@flowersforbucky) (warning: sex pollen, i.e., dub-con, explicit verbal consent prior)

Special Girl (❤❅✘✧): being friends with benefits definitely has its perks, especially when the friend in question is as hot as Bucky Barnes - but when you're feeling insecure about the arrangement, Bucky makes it clear to you that you're more than just a friend. @kinanabinks) (warning: mentions of neglectful childhood)

Scary? My God, You're Divine (❤✘): your marriage to Bucky Barnes was crucial in stopping the rivalry that had been getting rather violent recently between the two families. You agreed to it. But there was one little problem. Although people knew of Bucky as being a ruthless, fiercely loyal, and feared hitman, no one had ever seen his face. In the rare occasions when he’d been seen out during assignments, it was rumoured that he always wore some sort of mask which covered most of his face. So you ended up marrying a man, and had no idea what he looked like. But surely that wouldn’t be an issue. It’s not like his one touch would get you addicted. Who cared what he looked like? It’s not like you could grow to love someone like him anyway… right? - mob!au (@sinner-as-saint)

Sting (✘): TattooArtist!Bucky praising you during a session. (@adrinktostopyourthirst)

↪︎ Fling (✘): your tattoo artist left you hanging and you’re fed up enough to come and collect his excuse. (part two)

Blurred Lines (❤❅✘✧): when choosing a female agent to send back in time to gain young Sergeant Barnes's trust, everyone's in agreement that it should be Sharon. Until Bucky, the man that you barely get along with, speaks up and lets everyone know that it could only be you. (@ellemj)

Closer (✘): you’d never felt like this before, it was like some primal instinct deep down inside of you. You just needed to be close to him. The only problem was that you were already wrapped in his arms and it still didn’t feel close enough. (@tom-holland-parker)

Water Proof (✘): Bucky Barnes is pretty sure that his arm is water proof. He'd been in water with it before. Turns out his arm can handle water, but not p*ssy juice. (@vivwritesfics)

Book Boyfriend (✘): Bucky is better than any book boyfriend. You'll prove it to him. (@navybrat817)

In Your Arms I'm Born Again (❤✘): you want to find out exactly how many times is too many times for the super soldier. (@bonky-n-steeb)

What Are Friends For (✘): when you threaten to swear off men for good after your last bad date, your neighbour and friend offers to help change your mind. (@gogolucky13)

Down Bad (✘): Bucky using his metal hand as a vibrator. (@flowersforbucky)

I Hate You (✘): after ending up on SHIELD's radar, you're moved into the tower against your will. Of course, you can't stand the one man that you have the most in common with. (@ellemj)

Play Pretend (✘): when Bucky is injected with a substance that leaves him desperate for release, you offer your help. (@wkemeup) (warning: sex pollen trope, i.e., dub-con)

A Quiet Escape (✘): during a holiday stay at Clint Barton’s home, you’ve been desperately trying to steal a moment alone with Bucky—your super-soldier boyfriend—but the Avengers are constantly interrupting. Between Clint’s kids, Steve’s “bromantic” grocery runs, and Nat pulling Bucky into sparring sessions, it feels like you’re constantly fighting for his attention. Frustration finally boils over when you confront Bucky about your lack of privacy, only to discover he’s just as eager for some alone time as you are - and willing to do anything to get it. (@thebarneschronicles)

Revenge Sweeter Than Honey (✘): when Bucky’s professor unfairly grades his college assignment, ruining his perfect GPA, he finds a way to get revenge — And doesn’t his sweet little wife look delicious? (@thevillainswhore)

Caught Myself A Cute Little Doll (✘): the Winter Soldier caught himself a cute little doll. (@sergeantbarnessdoll)

Pretty Little Thing (✘): your long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, is a regular at the bar where you work, and tonight, it’s impossible to avoid serving him for the first time. (@marvelouslizzie)

Now or Never (✘): based off the prompts "You know my door is always open for you, right?" and "You're already wet sweetheart." (@fandoms-writings)

Touch Starved (✘): this was inspired by a tweet and his gif I saw on twitter. You accidentally walk in on Bucky touching himself when he thinks he is alone. Turns out he is thinking about you. (@mrsbuckybarnes1917)

I Don't Want You Like A Best Friend (❅✘): Bucky can't decide if the universe loves him or hates him. Maybe it loves to hate him. Maybe it's mischievous. Because he’s in love. He’s madly, deeply, painfully in love with a girl that he knows he’ll never have. Because the heavens created arguably the most perfect creature in their repertoire, dangled you in front of him for his entire life, and chose to rip you away before he had the chance to tell you how he felt. (@brunchable)

↪︎ Part Two (❤✘): it's only been a few hours since you've become official and Bucky want to show you just how much you mean to him.

All's Well That Ends Well To End Up With You (❤✘): Bucky isn't going to let an extended mission, a severe thunderstorm, and a delayed flight ruin your first valentine's day together. (@flowersforbucky)

Stay For A Fortnight (✘): “yes, ground rules,” you sighed, forcing your eyes to rest on anything but him, “it’s just you and me here for two whole weeks, so we’ll need to come up with a plan.” (@thyme-in-a-bubble)

Devil's In The Backseat (✘): a night at coney island with your friends turns out much differently than expected, or getting fucked in front of a mirror. (@flowersforbucky)

Sesame & The Sweetheart (❤✘): you've been on a few dates with Bucky now, and the sexual tension is at an all-time high. After another cute date, you realize you can't keep your hands off him for very much longer. (@kinanabinks)

Heartwood (❤✘): after Sam’s party, Bucky begins to navigate uncharted territory as he works to balance his growing feelings and lingering insecurities in his blooming relationship. - lumberjack!bucky (@vunblr)

new! New Tricks (❤✘): after your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him. Instead, what unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular. Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin. (@thevillainswhore)

new! Computer Chair Smut (❅✘): after weeks of arguing, you thought your relationship with Bucky was near the end. That was until you held something positive in your hand. (@crowsofdarkness)

new! Restraint (✘): you rush to Bucky's side when he's hit with a a super serum booster out in the field so that you can...take care...of him. (@mrs-elsie-barnes) (warning: sex-pollen trope (ish), i.e., dub-con)

new! Desperate Measures (✘): when you encounter a mysterious substance during a mission, it forces you and your mission partner to get closer. (@simplyholl) (warning: sex-pollen trope, i.e., dub-con)

new! Beach Day (✘): beach day with some of the Avengers turns into a little private time with Bucky. (@crowsofdarkness)

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gutsby · 1 year ago

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Joel Miller

Waiting Game (dbf!Joel)

Joel has mastered the art of self-control in all areas except one: not fucking his friend’s daughter. A cross-country road trip home from college takes a hard turn when he’s forced to share a motel room with you.

One shots for the Waiting Game ‘verse

Homemade: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.

Diehard: Joel tries Viagra for the very first time.

Ruined!: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.

Cabin Fever (Dark!Joel x Dark!Reader) [DEAD DOVE]

Joel saves your life, but help comes at a price.

Confines: Joel locks you up in a subterranean bunker.

Finders Keepers (bfd!Joel)

When you find an old shirt of Mr. Miller’s lying around, you can’t resist. When he finds you humping a pillow and moaning his name, neither can he.

Cry, Baby

Joel fucks you to the point of tears. That’s all.

Just Peachy [anal]

Joel’s got a jealous streak and a bold idea.

Wingman (himbo!Joel crackfic)

Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.

Watch Your Mouth

Joel teaches you to keep quiet during sex.

Love Tap (dad!Joel)

Old habits die hard with your husband—touching you at inappropriate times is one of them.

If You Like Piña Coladas (neighbor!Joel)

You secretly make Joel a profile on Hinge. Then he shows you exactly why he doesn’t need one.

My Body, His Choice [freeuse]

After a long day, Joel just needs some relief.

Who’s Your Daddy? (stepdad!Joel)

You get stuck in the washing machine. Thankfully, your stepdad is around to help you out.

Make It Stick

Joel never thought he’d need a vasectomy. Then, one night, he accidentally finishes inside you.

Stiff: At fifty-nine, Joel isn’t sure his dick can keep up with every day it’s going to take to get you pregnant. He seeks help from Jackson’s local apothecary and gets more than bargained for when that little blue pill kicks in.

Stuck: Joel gets nominated to play Santa Claus for Jackson’s holiday festivities. Of course, you’re into that.

Cowboy Killers

On a mission to find—and fight—your best friend’s lying, cheating boyfriend at the bar, you end up throwing your drink in the wrong face and landing in a sticky situation with Joel Miller, who never plays fair.

Seeing Pink [DD/LG]

Joel steals more of your innocence every day. Fortunately, you love to give as much as he loves to take.

Easy to Please (sleazy landlord!Joel)

Months pass, and you can’t make rent—again. You find another way to pay your sleazy landlord. Again.

Wants and Needs (sugar daddy!Joel)

Bills are high; your dad’s boss wants to help. How you pay him stays between you and him—for now.

Bigger in Texas

Joel won’t fit.

Trashed (trailer park!Joel)

You fuck Joel in his filthy double-wide.

Too Close for Comfort

You’ve been babysitting Sarah Miller forever. One day, you’re surfing the web on her dad’s computer, and you find some…unusual things in his search history.

Brighter Times (dark!Joel)

You’ve always been Joel’s favorite. Always.

Older, Bolder (GILF!Joel)

Joel can’t get it up.

Marcus Acacius

Bloodline

The General needs an heir.

Bucky Barnes

Wedded Bliss (Mob!Bucky)

The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Daryl Dixon

Dead Ringer

Weeks of separation and sexual frustration come to a head when Daryl pays you a visit in the middle of the night. Whether it's the product of your own sex-deprived subconscious or reality, you can't be sure—and couldn't care less. Daryl wants to fulfill the fantasy any way he can.

Easy Street

You steal a cop car and almost run Daryl over en route to the Sanctuary. You can’t decide if you want to fight him, fuck him, or bring him back to Negan. Lucky for you, Daryl is game for all three.

Nighthawk

You decide to bring Spencer to the neighborhood Halloween bash to take your mind off your breakup with Daryl. Your ex isn't so easily convinced of your intentions and decides there's no better place than his motorcycle to show you just how much he misses you.

Cherry Pie

You know virtually nothing about sex, and Daryl’s done it all. Together, you take on an impromptu anatomy lesson, and you learn that Daryl has a lot more to teach you than what’s covered in the textbooks.

Walker Bait

An unforeseen foray into a sex shop leaves you and Daryl trapped between a plastic cock and a hard place as a herd of walkers closes in. Angry sex ensues.

Grow a Uterus and We’ll Talk

Daryl has a bad case of baby fever, to put it lightly. You’re practically terrified of children. Rick lends you his kid for the night, and together, you come to learn that parenthood might not be the worst thing in the world. Even easier than baking muffins, one might say.

Honey Trap

You’ve been tasked with two simple jobs: infiltrate Alexandria’s community and bring intel back to your boss by any means necessary. When your entry point into the group takes the form of a familiar blue-eyed archer, you expect this to be your easiest gig yet—that is, until your prey decides to hunt you back.

Pregnant Pause

Babymaking is a bit trickier than anticipated, and months have passed with no sign of pregnancy. When your period finally doesn’t show up on time, you and Daryl act fast and head straight for the pharmacy—and get a little caught up along the way.

Mr. Dixon

Your efforts to seduce the DILF next door have all failed spectacularly, so you decide a wet hot car wash in front of his house is in order. Mr. Dixon is less than impressed with your antics and plans to teach you a lesson in good manners and ‘neighborliness.’

I’m a Good Girl, Officer!

Apparently flashing your tits to truckers on the freeway is frowned upon in small towns like yours. When three familiar King County cops take charge of the case, you learn they punish bad girls a little differently.

Playing Dangerous

Working undercover in a seedy part of town, homicide detective Daryl sees you in your skimpy club attire and mistakes you for a hooker. A wrongful arrest makes for a funny way to foreplay, but you’re still game.

Fake It Til You Make It (Or Drown)

Daryl finds out you faked an orgasm. Instead of getting mad, he decides to get even.

Best Served Cold

Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.

Coming Soon:

Bite the Bullet

Back at the prison, new recruits have been showering you with gifts. One of these presents doesn’t sit quite right with Daryl, and he decides it’s time to let the men know just how he feels—and who you belong to.

Atlantic City

A very drunk Daryl meets a stripper in Jersey and wastes no time putting a ring on her finger. With the late, great Elvis Presley presiding, the two get hitched in a slipshod ceremony a couple weeks before the world descends into chaos. This marriage may be short-lived, but damn if the honeymoon won’t be one to remember.

Requests are open!

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holylulusworld · 4 months ago

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How to cure a grump (1)

Summary: You're losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, grumpy Bucky, awful boss

How to cure a grump masterlist

“Santa Claus is coming to town,” you sing along to the song blaring from your phone. You’re, as so often, the last one at the office.

Before the holidays, most of your colleagues try to get out of the office as early as possible. They have better plans than to work like busy ants two days before Christmas.

Sadly, you didn’t get to leave on the clock. Your boss demanded your attention. You couldn’t join your colleagues at the little Christmas party you organized for weeks.

Now they will all exchange the Secret Santa gifts you got for most of them, drink eggnog, and sing awful Christmas songs while you are stuck here with your grumpy boss.

“Miss Y/L/N, I need the numbers now." Mr. Barnes doesn’t even walk toward your desk. He simply barks orders your way.

You heave out a sigh and glance at the stack of papers on your desk. Before you get up to hand Mr. Barnes the numbers he wanted you to finish before the holidays, you save your work.

Grabbing the papers, you silently pray that Mr. Barnes won’t come up with more tasks. It’s long past your work time, and you’re tired and cranky. You’ll need a good night’s sleep and at least a day off before driving home for Christmas.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he barks as you are already halfway toward his office. Mr. Barnes huffs as you stumble over your own feet. “You know, I had better things to do than wait for the numbers. I have been waiting for hours. I think you’re the worst person working here.”

For a second, you’re stunned. You feel like Mr. Barnes slapped you across your face.

“Maybe if you asked the person responsible for the mistake to help you with the numbers, you'd like the outcome better. I worked overtime only to get yelled at!” You gasp. The words just flew out of your mouth, unfiltered and raw with emotions.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t work here any more then!” He bites back. It wasn’t a surprise to you that Mr. Barnes lost his temper. He’s always been a little hot-headed and grumpy. Mr. Barnes fired people here and there over the years. You just didn’t think you’d be one of them one day.

“You’re firing me after I fixed a mistake someone else made?” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t see anyone else standing in line to work through the numbers. I worked overtime before the holidays to do you a favor.”

“That’s your job,” he growls and points at the door. “Or was. I want you to pack your things and don’t come back.”

“Fine,” you huff and turn on your heels, regretting your mishap instantly. You’d apologize and even fall to your knees to get your job back. Sadly, Mr. Barnes is a strict man. He doesn’t accept mistakes or insubordination. Whatever you’d do or say, there was no way he’d give you your job back.

So, you got a box from the storage room, emptied your desk, grabbed your belongings, and left the building for the last time in your life. To hell with this job and your boss.

“Mom, stop asking questions,” you plead as your mother wouldn’t stop asking questions about your job.

“It’s all so exciting. Living in the big city, having friends you meet up at bars like Carrie in Sex and the City, and your job. It sounds wonderful!”

“Mom, I barely made any friends,” you sigh, and try to rub the embarrassment off your face. “I’d call them work friends or acquaintances.”

“I bet they are all too happy to have you around,” she coos and cups your face. “I know my Munchkin conquered the big city in no time.”

“Mom, I—” you sniffle and look away, ashamed. It never gets easy to lie to your mother. “I have to tell you something about the job.”

“What is it, Munchkin?” she asks, looking at you, worry in her eyes. She coos to you as you begin to cry. Starting anew after your long-term boyfriend and fiancé broke things up was the dream you wanted to fulfill. Now, you failed again.

“I got fired yesterday,” you sniff. “I worked overtime, and my boss yelled at me. I fixed someone else’s mistake, and he still yelled at me. I lost it and…” You shake your head and refuse to look at your mother.

“Y/N, that’s not the end of the world.” She wraps you in a warm embrace. The kind of embrace only a mother can give you. You feel warm and safe, remembering all the times she calmed you in times of need. “You’ll find a new job, a better one. If he fired you, that man doesn’t know how to value you.”

“The fuck no!” Bucky flings a stack of papers across the room. He tried to access your account, only to realize he never asked you to reset your password. Now he’s seething because most of your work, except the files you shared with colleagues and him, is password protected. “She forgot to reset the fucking password!”

“Well, you told her to pack her things and leave, Buck. What did you expect to happen?” Steve huffs. He had to leave his cozy home and wife to help Bucky with some unimportant paperwork. “We've got time to fix this until after the holidays.”

“Unimportant to you,” Bucky bites back. “I want this finished before the year ends.”

“Buck,” Steve snorts. “If you need her password, call her.” The blonde shrugs before turning to leave. “I know you are not the best at communicating, but I believe in you. You can handle a phone call with a woman you just fired.”

“I tried more than once,” Bucky snaps at his best friend and business partner. “She won’t answer. The last time I called, she blocked my number.”

“Yeah, because you fired her!” Steve replies, laughing. “I wouldn’t answer any call from an asshole firing me two days before Christmas, either.”

Bucky opens his mouth to reply. He huffs as his friend already walks toward the door.

“What shall I do now? I need the password!”

“If you cannot reach her, go to her home and ask for the password. I will go home now. Please don’t call me during Christmas. Natasha will rip me a new one if I miss Christmas.”

“She’s not home. I was there. Her neighbors told me that Y/N will spend Christmas at her parents’ house. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Buck,” Steve laughs. “You can fly to her hometown and ask her for the password. While on your way back, you can celebrate with a pretty stewardess in first class as every Christmas…”

How to cure a grump (2)

#bucky barnes #business au #ceo!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader

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realtalkswithfinn · 1 year ago

Text

Christmas at the Compound

Avengers x reader

Summary: Avengers x reader Christmas head cannons because I am a sucker for the found family trope.

a/n: I tried to get this up before christmas but totally spaced it, so… tale it as a christmas morning gift! I tried to make it as age neutral as possible, so it could totally be teen!reader or not.

The holidays are a tough time for the Avengers.

Most of them have lost family members or friends, and the idea of celebrating anything is extremely difficult.

Tony especially - he always gets gloomy around the Holidays.

He always says something along the lines of, "I don't actually care about this, but its social convention."

But secretly he cares a lot.

He overcompensates for his lack of affection throughout the year by buying everyone the expensive gifts he knows they want but could never justify spending on themselves.

At surface level, it just seems like “oh rich guy is spending rich guy money”

But they’re actually really thoughtful gifts

Like last year, he got Peter a new laptop for school.

He bought Bucky new and thick clothes since all of his were old and worn.

He upgraded Clints cellular data so he could talk to his family anywhere.

Things like that.

Sam and Rhodey take one for the team and string the christmas lights on the tower

“It’s too cold for this.” Sam would complain, the sharp wind nipping at his cheeks as he flew from one end of the building to the other, lights in tow.

“Come one man, where’s your christmas spirit?” Rhodey would laugh

“I’m just doing this so stark’s power bill goes up.”

it really was worth it seeing the tower lit up top to bottom though

Wanda LIVES for commercialized American Christmas

"We have to make gingerbread houses and go to Rockefeller to see the Christmas tree and we have to go out to the snow and go sledding-"

She demands family Christmas photos be taken, even though you don't really have anyone to send them to.

This years theme was christmas pjs

Which lead to a few very interesting viral videos of the avengers in an Old Navy

“Tony come on the reindeer ones are cute!”

“Bruce. A man can not hold onto his masculinity while wearing pjs with dancing reindeer.”

Natasha gets tired of the bellyaching and bickering and makes the final decision

She grabs everyone’s size in the Reindeer pjs and marches to the front of the store

After snagging Tony’s credit card, of course.

Actually taking the picture is a whole other ball game, but that’s a story for another day

Thor has a hard time with the idea of Santa

You try to explain it to him, but it doesn’t seem to help

“So a fat man breaks into the safety of your home late into the night… and you let it happen because he comes baring gifts?”

“Well… yeah.”

“But only to nice children. That he stalks throughout the year.”

“He doesn’t stalk the children he just…”

“Hm.” He squints. “what about the naughty children?”

“They don’t get any presents.”

“OR,” Wanda interjects, “Krampus comes to get them.”

“Is that another fat man in a red disguise?”

“No. He’s a demon sent from hell to eat them.”

Thor nods in approval. “Ah. That’s much more asgardian. A fair reward system for the youth!”

You stare at him. “So… you’re okay with Krampus but not Santa?”

“Well I think they work together well, like a team. Like us!”

“I… I guess…”

Decorating the tree was an all night event

You would help happy bring up what felt like hundreds of boxes of christmas decorations

The tree itself was about 15 feet tall, because it wouldn’t be a holiday at the compound if you guys weren’t extra

It was placed in the living space, right next to a huge wall of windows so all of New York could see your festivity

it had to be decorated to the nines to pass Wanda’s inspection

Not a bare branch

Theres tinsel, ribbons, colorful lights, and hundreds of ornaments

But of course, ladders were a no go

You guys liked a challenge

To reach the higher branches, you and Natasha would stand on Steve and Buckys shoulders

And I mean stand

Not sit

It was a thrilling balancing game

You trusted them to catch you if you fell, but you still had to try to avoid it at all costs to save the tree from certain destruction

Peter would dangle from the ceiling, crawling around to hang ornaments toward the very top

Both of these acts nearly gave Bruce and Vision a heart attack

“CAP, you’re moving to fast shes gunna lose balance-“

“Bruce, please take a breath.”

Meanwhile Thor is getting distracted by all the ornaments and forgetting to actually hang them up

“This one’s a little man of snow! How silly!”

Speaking of ornaments

You all have an ornament of yourself on the tree

Or, your super hero alias at least

There’s a tiny black widow, a little iron man, a bity baby hulk, so on and so forth

Tony always demands his be the highest up on the tree to fuel his god complex

Drawing names out of a hat to see who got to put the star on top of the tree

(except you guys would always rig it behind Wanda’s back, only putting her name in the hat)

She would always protest, insisting to let someone else do it this year, but you guys never relented

So with a big cheesy grin on her face, she would use her magic to delicately place the star on the tippy top

You would think Natasha wouldn’t want to see the Nutcracker Ballet after her time in the red room

But it makes her so happy to see dancing as an art form instead of a way to brainwash young girls

She drags you, Clint, Wanda, and whoever else wants to tag along every year

She even splurges on front row seats

You look over and see her eyes glittering while she watches every turn, leap, and stunt intently

Leaving the theater, she’ll walk on her toes and do a few turns, encouraging you to try as well.

She ends up cackling watching you trip and stumble

“We’ll work on it.”

Can you IMAGINE the ginger bread making contest???

You’re all huddled around the long dining room table with christmas music playing

Theres Clint and Natasha, who just make the classic gingerbread house, no fancy bells or whistles.

Then there’s Bruce,Tony, and Peter who are going absolutely wild building gingerbread sky scrapers and gingerbread hotels.

“Mr. Stark look, I made a working elevator!”

Bruce puts an electric system (fairy lights) through his

Steve and Bucky rebuild their childhood homes

Wanda is going all out, delicately hand placing every candy and covering the whole thing in edible glitter

Visions is pretty similar, but more sleek and modern than Wanda’s

And then there’s Thor, who’s totally missing the point and just DUMPING everything on top

“Hey Peter, I think yours is missing something.”

You string a long thread of white rope candy from his structure to yours.

“Webs!”

“You know… we can probably make a web-like consistency with some starch and frosting…”

That becomes a whole sticky project, but you eventually get it to work, connecting everyone’s gingerbread houses with icing webs

Steve and Bucky are TOTALLY participating in the classic christmas traditions they grew up on.

They sit quietly together in the living room, making paper chains and stringing popcorn

“Do you mind if I join you guys?”

they smile gently. “Of course not.”

You sit crisscross in front of the couch while they teach you

They tell you stories of christmases long, long ago, which feels kinda silly considering they’re talking like grandpas while not appearing much older than you

On Christmas eve, you’re all there except for Clint, who went home to his family

Youre all dressed in your pajamas from the christmas card

You make hot coco and cider

Wanda pops in some old vhs tapes and you watch the classics late into the night

“Alright you nutcrackers,” tony would say around midnight. “I know you want to stay up and catch Santa, but he’s not coming if you all stay awake.”

he really just wanted to go to bed

He sauntered off, calling for lights out.

Most of the boys wandered away to their rooms, leaving you, Wanda, Nat and Thor not quite ready for sleep.

“So,” you ask, taking a sip of coco, “Do you guys think we’re on the naughty list?”

Natasha Chuckled. “I’m not sure. Does beating people up count as naughty if you’re taking down the bad guys?”

Thor set his mug down on the coffee table, the bells on his sweater jingling. “Do not fear ladies, I will catch that nasty Krampus if he comes in to devour your soul. I believe you were doing the right thing.”

You all laughed, thinking he was joking. But he just stared at you.

“Thor… you realize Krampus and Santa aren’t… real?” Wanda asked.

He had a hard time swallowing that.

He ended up sleeping on the couch “just in case”

you woke up at 3 am to a loud clattering coming from the living room

You decided to check it out against your better judgement

There was Thor. Hammer in one hand, cookie in another.

Down the hall toward the elevator was a completely destroyed life-size nutcracker.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I thought I heard something by the elevator.”

“Congratulations. You murdered the Nutcracker.”

“I feared he was an accomplice of the holiday demon.”

“He’s been there for weeks!”

“He could have been a spy. Or possessed.”

“Goodnight Thor.”

Christmas Morning finally arrived

Everyone was sleeping soundly in their beds

Until Sam decided to be a little shit and wake everyone up at 7 am

He pounded on every. single. bedroom door.

“Y/NNNN. SANTA CAME TO TOWNNNNN.” he sing-songed

“No he didn’t.” You grumbled. “Thor killed him.”

“… I don’t know what that means.”

You all stumble out into the living room

Natasha took the time to actually run a brush through her hair and do her morning skincare

You and wanda were far too excited and skipped over that completely, barely remembering to brush your teeth

Tony looked the roughest - he had a silk robe draped over his pjs and looked like he was just awakened from a coma

Essentially, everyone was a little disheveled

Vision made everyone coffee before you started the gift exchange

You all sat around the coffee table in a circle so everyone could see each other

Bruce and Steve passed out the gifts from under the tree

it took a solid few minutes, there was a MOUNTAIN of presents

You went one at a time opening gifts

Some people think this is awkward, but you felt it was more genuine

this way, everyone can see the gift and the joy on the receivers face

as well as a million “thank you”s

It also gave time for the giver to explain why they chose the gift they did, whether it be something they remembered you said you wanted, something they knew you needed, or even just a simple “this made me think of you”

In the end, you loved all your gifts

And everyone loved what you got for them

But mostly, you were just happy to spend the holiday with your family

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year ago

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~ Mafia!Stucky Mastlist⍟✪ 📚~

Hello lovely, I hope you’re having a great day. I thought it was about time I made a list dedicated to my favourite boys, so welcome to my Mafia!Stucky masterlit!I love to write in my spare time, and the fiction I create is for 18+ readers ONLY. Also, everything is character x fem!reader, and please, read the tags carefully before continuing.

Masterlists ♥ A03 ♥ Tags ♥ Question? ♥ latest works ♥

you're mine (smut, angst, dark)

Steve loves showing off what’s his, you. What does eh do when he sees someone staring at what is his?

i need more (fluff, smut)

You’d been off all day and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Steve. He’d do anything to make you feel better so when you started begging him to help you have some release, he didn’t hold back.

ruined orgasm - kinktober (smut)

He had given you one rule: do not interrupt the meeting. So, of course you had to walk straight into the meeting that had all of America’s most noterious gangsters

steve's birthday wish (P.1) (fluff, smut, angst)

It was approaching Steve’s birthday and you had no idea what to get him. Bucky suggests just asking the Mafia boss what he would like, but would you regret your decision when you hear what Steve truly wants.

When Two Become Three (P.2) (fluff, smut)

It has been a few weeks since Steve sat back and watched your be pleasured by his best friend Bucky, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially, the part where Steve confessed his fantasy to have a threesome, but would you ever agree to it?

one more meeting (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

For all of the years that you had known Steve and Bucky, you had never seen them lose control of their anger. All of the murder and violence always being calculated, calm, and dangerous. But today, that all changed and for the first time in years, you were truly scared of the boys you loved.

repeat after me(fluff, smut, angst)

It wasn’t often that you had to attend a party with your boyfriends but today, you found yourself at one, filling you with anxiety and dread. How will the boys react when they find you close to a panic attack and starting to doubt their love for you?

how many?(fluff, smut)

Steve had finally found time to take you and Bucky on holiday. What he doesn’t tell you however is that today, he wanted to see just how many times he and Bucky could get you to orgasm.

i can’t lose you (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Being the girlfriend of the Mafia leader and his second in command had its dangers but for years, you'd never had to experience this. Until now. How will the boys react when you're put in danger?

no touching (fluff, smut, angst)

You blatantly ignored their instructions and now you had to suffer the repercussions for your actions.

i don’t care (fluff, smut)

'The reader having a menstrual cycle, this one just a little worse than others, and Steve and Bucky worrying and helping her through it.'

the one weakness (fluff, smut, angst)

It wasn't often you were by yourself so when you quickly go to the coffee shop, what happens when the enemy is watching and waiting nearby.

overwhelming (fluff)

It had been your birthday a few days ago and both Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party followed by intense, long nighttime activities. However as you lay in bed on Monday morning, something just didn't feel quite right.

the fun game (fluff, smut)

Steve and Bucky had forgotten about your date, leaving you waiting for two hours in the restaurant. How will they react when you decide to play your own little game as payback and, how far can you go before they finally snap?

harder, please (fluff, smut, angst)

Your mind was clouded with lust and pleasure, as you begged repeatedly for more from Bucky but, what happens when you get hurt in the process?

protect and forget (fluff, smut, angst)

Life as the girlfriend of the Mafia boss and his second-in-command was not always smooth sailing, everything did not always go to plan. Two weeks before your birthday, a threat was made to your life. What happens when Steve and Bucky begin to push you away as they search for the threat?

All Eyes On You (smut)

“Do you know what we would have done if we had turned up to that restaurant and seen you all dolled up like that? We would have bent you over the table in front of everyone and shown them exactly who you belonged to". - Steve Rogers

you belong to me (fluff, smut, angst)

These girls knew you were dating Steve and Bucky, so why is it that they thought it was ok to have their hands all over them?

dont fall asleep (fluff, smut, angst)

It was supposed to be a normal day, but not in fate's eyes as you and Sam are hit by a drunk driver. How will Steve and Bucky react when they hear their girls been hurt?

rule number one. (fluff, smut, angst)

It was Bucky's birthday but even a surprise party won't stop Steve and Bucky from punishing you for not looking after yourself.

Last Hope (CH. 1) (CH. 2) (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Before dating Steve and Bucky, your life felt like a steel cage that you couldn't escape from because of your family business. There was no happiness or hope but, what happens when the infamously heartless mafia leader, Steve Rogers, finds you alone?

our little bean (fluff, angst)

You stared unblinking at the Doctor who had just told you the news you couldn't quite comprehend. You were on birth control, so why is the test in his hands saying that you're pregnant? Accidents happened but is this a happy one? (Yes it is).

the limit (fluff, smut, angst)

Everyone has a limit, this includes Steve and Bucky. What happens in different situations where each of you felt compelled to use your safewords?

sick day (fluff)

Bucky had warned you that dancing in that rain without a coat would lead you to be ill, maybe you should have listened more to his warning.

accident’s happen (fluff, smut, angst)

You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?

everyone is breakable (fluff, smut, angst)

Steve and Bucky were invincible in your eyes. They'd never been injured or in a situation where you thought they weren't the ones in control. That is until one day Bucky doesn't return from meeting with a client.

winter soup (fluff, smut, angst)

There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?

something new (smut)

The mafia leader was known to be possessive and enjoy showing off his girl but what happens when he wants to do this by being intimate in front of his gang?

pegging - kinktober (smut)

Steve had once instructed bucky how to pleasure you but what happens when you’re the one being given the instructions?

cockwarming - kinktober (smut)

You’re feeling needy and restless so Steve offers you something to suck on, much to Bucky’s amusement.

double penetration in one hole - kinktober (smut)

You were adament to prove Steve wrong and do something you’ve never done before.

fear play - kinktober (smut, dark)

You woke up to darkness, your phone was missing and, all you could was silence echoing around the house but, you knew you weren’t alone.

role reversal - kinktober (smut)

For once, you were the one shouting at the enemy, demanding that they leave your office. Steve and Bucky were in awe so you tried to keep up this confidence and burn off some energy with them.

Duke, Duchess and Knights (fluff, angst)

You get so lost in the fantasy dream that when it turns into a nightmare, you're not sure what reality is when you wake up screaming.

Merry Christmas (fluff, smut)

It was a simple question: Have you been naughty or nice this year?

Safety Measures (Angst, Smut, Fluff)

It was the anniversary of Steve and Bucky saving you from your sadistic brother. Usually, it was a time of celebration for you, but this year, you couldn't help but feel paranoid and unsafe.

edge of glory (Angst, Smut, Fluff)

Defiance is something you are not accustomed to, but when the love of your life is in danger, there is no stopping you. Now, the repercussions of your actions have you contemplating the decisions that you've made.

seven (Angst!, Smut, Fluff)

One week is all it takes for your world to come crashing down. Even though you could have everything you'd ever wanted, for some reason, something isn't right. Will your emotions and the smothering of overprotective Stucky come to an end?

Drabbles

The first to give their jacket when reader is cold

Mad & Sad moments

Saying the wrong thing

TikTok trend: no kissing

Who is more protective?

safe space in your new home

Halloween Costumes

#mafia!stucky #mafia stucky #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky barnes #stucky #steve rogers #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #mafia au #mafia!stucky masterlist #mine*#mafia stucky masterlist #steve rogers masterlist #bucky barnes masterlist

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elixirfromthestars · 3 months ago

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A Snow Day With You

Pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader (college au)

Summary: The end of the semester has you stressing beyond belief, so Bucky decides to cheer you up by spending a snowy afternoon sledding.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning(s): none. pure fluff.

Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> sledding isn't as fun as when we were kids

a/n: This fluffy drabble is my holiday gift to you my dear Ray @whatever-lmaoo ♡♡ Your comments on my first fic of these two have forever carved a home in my heart, so this one is for you ♡ I hope this fluffy piece can bring you a bit of happiness whenever college gets stressful ♡ This is a standalone fic, but everyone is welcome to read more of their story!₊˚⊹☆ Thank you everyone for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡

where their love story began ♡ || fluffy winter fics masterlist ❆

“Babe, we're going to get hypothermia,” you grumble out, hugging your coat closer to your body. The frosty wind shoving past your face, chilling you to the bone. Bucky plops the wooden toboggan onto the snow, laughing in disbelief at your assertion, “Sweetheart, we’re not getting hypothermia.” He’s not wrong as he says this, since apart from the wind, the weather was tolerable. Last night’s snowstorm ended this morning, leaving behind ten inches of snow. Enough for a multitude of winter activities—like sledding—to be possible.

“Maybe not, but one of us will break a bone,” you retort, watching in growing concern as other people slide down the snowy hill and end up tumbling out of their sleds when they reach the bottom. Bucky follows your line of sight and playfully rolls his eyes, “No one is going to break a bone, Y/n.” He goes to adjust your scarf, the indigo fabric a little too loose for his liking. Up close he can see the look in your eye, the one that tells him you’re not done trying to back out of this just yet.

“Maybe you won’t, but I might. I’m not athletic enough to go sledding.”

“Baby, you don’t have to be athletic to go sledding.”

The more you speak the more Bucky’s amusement grows, but he tries not to show it too much as he sees the underlying nervousness dancing in your eyes. He finishes fixing your scarf and you plant a soft kiss on his cheek as a thank you. He smiles at you fondly, noticing your grumpy mood subside slightly. He doesn’t take your mood to heart, knowing the real reason you haven’t been feeling the best lately is because of one thing and one thing only.

Finals.

More specifically, final grades—or the lack thereof. Most of your professors haven’t submitted them yet, leaving you in a state of limbo unsure of whether you managed to save the semester or not.

Bucky has been your rock throughout finals season. Supporting you with extra study sessions, holding you close to soothe your frustration when it got the better of you, kissing all your tears away, and on those days you needed a break, he would put on your favorite comfort show and order takeout from your favorite restaurant. He did anything and everything he could to make you feel better.

These last few days, however, all of that wasn’t enough to shake away the dread that insisted on making a home in your heart. Bucky knew he needed to do something different to cheer you up and get your mind off of things. After seeing how the snow had piled up overnight, he was either going to ask you to build a snowman or go sledding.

Your boyfriend—captain of your university’s baseball team—naturally chose sledding.

“Just trust me, okay? I’ll hold you tight and make sure nothing happens to you,” Bucky promises as he makes his way over to the sled. He sits down on the end of it, his left hand gently outstretching to grab onto yours. Your gaze locks with his, your trepidation melting away the more you look into his eyes. There’s something about the snow all around him that makes his eyes a little more blue and it pulls you in with the assurance of safety. You nod, taking hold of his hand and letting him guide you to the front of the sled—slowly pulling you down to sit in front of him.

He instructs you on everything you need to know to keep yourself stable and inside at all times. You’re not entirely paying attention as you focus more on the way he scoots forward and presses your back against his chest. His arms are on either side of you, encasing you in a protective embrace. You lean into it, letting the steadiness of his presence soothe the remaining unease in your body.

“I’ll countdown from five and then I’ll push off, okay?” he mentions kindly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he awaits your response. You watch as others go down the snowy hill without a care in the world. Children and adults alike coasting down on sleds and pool floats, merriment written on their faces and echoing in their laughs. It helps subdue the butterflies in your stomach somewhat.

At your silence, Bucky presses a comforting kiss to your cheek, the coldness of his lips bringing you back to him. You look over your shoulder to give him a reassuring smile, “Okay, but don’t you dare let me go, Bucky Barnes.” You warn playfully, feeling the way his chest rumbles with a laugh before he replies, “I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

He pulls you tighter against his chest as your hands grasp onto the steering rope. He starts the countdown from five gradually inching the sled to the edge of the peak. When the countdown ends, you feel the butterflies in your stomach flutter intensely as the descent begins. Your breath gets caught in your throat and your eyes close tightly the entire way down. While a shriek of adrenaline escapes you, Bucky chortles the entire time as he’s having the time of his life.

“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Bucky poses the question when you reach the bottom, a boyish grin on his face. Your eyes open when you look behind you, noticing the way the apples of his cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold, his hair blown across his forehead, and yet the sparkle in his pretty blues unaffected by the chill. You’re reminded then and there that you’d do anything for him. Even sliding down the hill a million times if it meant keeping that joy on his face.

“I think I left my stomach at the top of the hill, but apart from that—it wasn’t so bad,” you concede, your smile matching his. He hums in amusement, “We should probably go get it then. Shouldn’t we?” You know he’s really asking you if you two could go down the hill again, and there’s no way you would ever be able to say no, so you nod—knowing you would follow him anywhere.

The second time you go down the hill you keep your eyes open. Marveling at the sight of the snowy trees blurring into one. By the third time, you're laughing along with Bucky and by the fourth you have the same sparkle in your eyes—enjoying the rush of the fall. And by the fifth, the stress of finals is long forgotten and Bucky feels an overwhelming sense of pride knowing he was able to lift that weight off your shoulders.

On your last descent, things don’t go as smoothly as the other times. Halfway down the hill, the sled bumps into a large rock hidden beneath the layers of snow. You barely have time to register when Bucky yells your name, as the sled derails from its path—your stomach flipping along with the sled.

You end up tumbling a few feet down the hill. Bucky holds you like a lifeline to his body as you land in the blanket of snow. You’re disoriented for a moment, but Bucky lifts himself to his knees in an instant, hovering above you to scan you from head to toe for any injuries. The worry etched into his features tugging at your heartstrings.

“Y/n, are you okay? Sweetheart, please tell me you’re not hurt. Do I need to—” The fit of giggles that erupt from you cuts off his distressed rambling, a bewildered expression replacing his concern. Instead of telling him you’re alright, you decide to show him. Your hands reach out to grasp the edges of his coat and pull him down for a kiss. He melts into it faster than ice does, a cheesy smile replacing his frown.

“I think that’s enough sledding for today,” you mumble into the kiss. He nods, agreeing wholeheartedly as he deepens it, “Mm, I second that. I can think of other ways we can spend the rest of the day,” his tone drips with suggestion, his eyes glimmering with playful mischief. You slap at his chest lightheartedly, which only elicits a deep chuckle from him before he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

No matter what comes next, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be on a snowy day than with him.

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hawthorne-bias · 4 months ago

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cinnamon dust

The café on West 4th Street in Manhattan is the last place Steve expects to find summer in the middle of winter. And yet, as you step inside, wrapped in too many layers with a laugh so warm and bright, Steve finds it—discovering a light in you he never knew he was missing; one he can no longer imagine living without.

tags: steve rogers x you; this is very fluffy and cute; love at first sight; pining; steve rogers is an artist, he's a romantic, but most importantly, steve rogers is turning into a total goner for you; nat, sam and bucky all enjoy one common hobby: poking fun at steve.

warnings: none, other than a few mentions of christmas delicacies. no gendered language used for the reader.

word count: 1293.

a/n: pictures used in header are from pinterest. dividers used here are by @saradika-graphics. mcu and its characters are not mine. likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!! hope you'll enjoy reading this! happy holidays, everyone!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

It’s a few days before Christmas in New York, and Steve sits tucked in the corner of a small café, the kind that always smells like cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee. Outside, the city is draped in white, snow drifting lazily through the air, muffling the usual chaos of honking cars and hurried footsteps. But in here, it’s calm—a warm little haven with soft conversations murmuring in the background and the faint clink of cups and plates filling the air.

Steve has barely touched the last bite of his pastry, his mind half on the conversation at the table. Sam, Natasha, and Bucky are hashing out details for a mission, their voices blending with the background noise. Steve listens with one ear, his gaze occasionally flicking toward the window, where the snow is painting Manhattan in soft edges and blurry outlines.

He’s pulled back into the moment when Natasha drops a piece of classified information too casually for his comfort. His brow furrows, and he leans forward, lowering his voice. “Do you really think it’s a good idea to talk about this here?” His sharp eyes scan the room, taking in every stranger nearby, gauging the distance between their table and prying ears. “We could head to my place—or Sam’s. Both are close, and at least there we won’t have to worry about being overheard.”

Natasha leans back, a slow smirk curling at her lips. “Sometimes the best way to stay hidden is to be right out in the open, Steve. Relax.”

Sam nods, lifting his coffee with an easy grin. “Nat’s right, man. Nobody here’s listening to us.”

Bucky doesn’t say much—he rarely does these days—but he glances over his coffee cup with a ghost of a chuckle. “You’re too tense. Let it go, pal.”

Steve sighs, sinking back into his seat. His arms fold across his chest, and he picks at his pastry absentmindedly. He’s about to take another bite when the door opens with a soft jingle, and a cold gust sweeps through the café. He glances up, only half-interested in who might walk through.

And then, he sees you.

You step inside, brushing snow from your coat, and for a moment, Steve forgets to breathe. Everything else—Nat’s smirk, Sam’s grin, Bucky’s quiet chuckle—fades into nothingness.

You’re smiling, and it’s not just any smile. It’s the kind of smile that stops the world for a beat, that makes the noise around him fall away. Bright and unguarded, it spills warmth into the room, like the sun breaking through storm clouds. It’s so genuine, so easy, that Steve feels it tug at something deep inside him, a thread he didn’t even know was there.

His gaze lingers, drawn to the way you move so comfortably, like the snow and cold don’t bother you at all. You’re bundled up in a soft, slouchy hat, a thick scarf wrapped snugly around your neck, and a coat that’s just a bit too big, with the sleeves slipping over your hands. It makes you look cozy, like you’re wrapped in layers of warmth and softness, and everything about the way you carry yourself feels so effortless, like you’re perfectly at ease despite the chill outside.

Steve can’t help it. His artist’s eye takes over, sketching you in his mind as you step toward the counter. You’re all soft lines and warm tones—snow-dusted hair, the gentle curve of your scarf tucked snugly against your chin, and the easy grace in the way you move as you browse the treats behind the glass.

And then you speak.

Your voice carries across the room, light and melodic, and Steve is undone. There’s a rhythm to your words, an unintentional music that lingers in the air long after you’ve finished your sentence. “I suddenly got a craving for something sweet,” you tell the barista, your tone playful, yet sincere. “And I couldn’t think of a better place to come than here.”

Steve feels something stir in his chest, something he can’t quite name. He watches as you lean closer to the display case, your eyes lighting up at the sight of the holiday pastries. Gingerbread loaf, peppermint cheesecake, chocolate yule logs—they’re all just food, but you make them seem magical, like treasures unearthed from some hidden trove.

When you order a slice of everything, Steve’s lips twitch upward before he can stop himself. It’s such a whimsical thing to do, so unashamedly indulgent, that he finds himself enchanted by the audacity of it. There’s no hesitation in your joy, no holding back. You’ve walked into this café, brought the winter with you, and somehow made it feel like spring.

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he barely notices the barista handing you the bag of treats. You thank them with a cheerful laugh, promising to come back soon to “restock your sweets stash,” and the warmth in your voice is enough to make Steve’s heart ache.

The bell jingles again as you leave, and the cold air rushes in to replace you. Steve watches you disappear into the snowfall, and the café feels dimmer, quieter, like you took the light with you.

For a long moment, Steve just stares at the door, his mind replaying the way you’d smiled, the way your voice had wrapped itself around the room like a warm embrace. It’s only when the sound of laughter from his friends pulls him back to reality that he realizes he’s been zoning out. He blinks, startled, as he suddenly becomes aware of the fact that he’s not alone.

Sam’s voice breaks the silence, light but with a hint of curiosity. “You good, Steve?”

Steve clears his throat, snapping himself back to the present. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he says quickly, brushing it off as he shifts in his seat.

Natasha tilts her head slightly, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Seemed like something caught your attention.” Her words are casual, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

Steve shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just... got lost in thought,” he says, hoping to sound convincing.

Bucky doesn’t say a word, but the way he glances at Steve, his expression unreadable save for the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth, is enough to make Steve shift under his friend’s quiet scrutiny.

Sam hums, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Happens to the best of us,” he says, his tone easy but with just enough weight to make Steve glance away.

“Back to the mission,” Steve mutters, trying to refocus himself on their conversation, though it’s clear he’s still a bit lost in thought. He shifts in his seat, giving a half-hearted attempt to steer things back to the task at hand.

Natasha lets out a soft chuckle, leaning back in her chair, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Sure, Steve. Back to the mission,” she replies, the teasing tone in her voice unmistakable.

The others exchange a quick, knowing glance, but thankfully, they let the moment pass without pushing it. For now, at least. Steve breathes a quiet sigh of relief, grateful for the temporary distraction.

But even as he tries to refocus on the conversation, his mind keeps drifting back to you. His gaze flickers toward the counter, where the café hours are neatly printed on a small sign. The numbers stick in his mind, almost unbidden, as if committing them to memory is second nature.

He knows, even before he finishes reading, that this won’t be the last time he comes to this café—not by a long shot. How could it be, when he’s already looking forward to the next time he’ll catch another glimpse of your radiant smile and hear your sweet voice again?

if you've enjoyed this fic and would like to be tagged in my future fanfics, please drop an ask into my inbox! thank you so much for reading this!! <333

[minors and ageless blogs will not be tagged in the nsfw fics, by the way! i'm sorry!!]

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #captain america x you #captain america x reader #avengers x you #avengers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #[my posts: steve rogers]

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literaryavenger · 1 year ago

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New Year's Eve

Summary: A game of two truths and a lie reveals to the team a fact about the you that Bucky can’t seem to stop thinking about.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language 'cause why not. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny. Mutual pining, idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts.

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Happy New Year's Eve! Thanks for all the messages when I was sick, I'm finally feeling better and I'm negative for Covid! I really wanted to post something for New Year's Eve and this came from a fever dream I had when I was sick, lol. I hope it's any good and someone enjoys it! A particular thank you to @ordelixx for helping me with this story!💘I've only started posting here about a month and a half but I'm really enjoying it and feeling more and more comfortable in my writing. I hope I'm also getting better at it. Anyway, I have big plans for the New Year that I hope you'll enjoy! This year hasn't been great for me, but I'm planning on working harder than ever to make sure the next one is a year I can be proud of. I hope you guys have a nice last day of 2023 and an amazing start of 2024! Love you all.💘

Masterlist

“Ok, your turn, Kill Bill. Two truths and a lie, go.” Tony says, referring to the fact that you fight with swords, making you roll your eyes before you join in on the laughter.

“Ok, uhm...” you try not to look at anyone so you don’t give away the answer “I have a teddy bear that I sleep with, I have bungee jumped from the top of the tower and I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.”

You look back up to the room and wait for their guesses.

It’s a Friday night and the people that remained in the Tower for the holidays decided to have a little game night.

Every year the same people stay around, having nowhere in particular to go, and spend Christmas together.

Clint and Scott usually spend this time with their families, this year Thor decided to go to New Asgard with Bruce and Loki to visit Val and Korg, and Peter decided to spend it with aunt May and Happy.

You usually alternate between going to visit your family and staying in the tower each year, and this one was your turn to go to your first home.

You came back the day after Christmas, never being one to miss Tony’s New Year’s Eve party that’s gonna happen in two days now.

“Well, we know she has a teddy bear.” Wanda says.

“Do we know that?” Tony turns to you, narrowing his eyes. “Do you have one?”

“Yes, she does, we’ve seen it” Natasha answers for you while you glance at Bucky, praying he doesn’t put together that they’re talking about the teddy bear he gifted you for Valentine’s Day this year along with flowers.

Natasha and Wanda were more happy than you when you told them, sustaining that he did it because he liked you until you pointed out that he gave flowers to them too, because he’s sweet and a gentleman and that’s just who he is.

They wouldn’t let up on the fact that neither of them got a teddy bear though, and you would have agreed with them but Bucky never really did anything else about it so you decided to let it go and not read too much into it.

You're brought back to the present by Tony.

“Ok, so she has one. Then it’s gotta be the New Year’s kiss, everyone has had one at least once in their life,” he was looking at your reaction very closely while talking, but you did your best to keep an easy smile and not give anything away.

“Even Captain Virgin over there had one last year.” he adds vaguely waving towards Steve’s general direction.

You crack at the nickname and at the undignified sound Steve made while blushing and glancing at Nat that shared that kiss with him.

“Tony, there’s no way that she bungee jumped from the roof without us knowing, that’s gotta be the lie.” Sam interjects, also watching you closely for any signs of a reaction that you manage not to give.

“Alright, just take your guesses, people.” You say to the group.

“New Year’s Kiss.” Tony all but yelled, Natasha and Wanda agreeing with him.

“Bungee jump.” Sam says and Steve and Bucky agree, then they all seem to hold their breath as they wait for your answer.

It’s not a surprise that even these stupid little games cause a lot of competition amongst the team.

“Neither.”-you finally said and let out a laugh when they all groan in annoyance while taking their shots for guessing wrong.

“WAIT- you bungee jumped off the ROOF? When?!” Steve seems more concerned than anything.

“Well, you know a few months ago when we happened to all be on different missions at the same time?” They nod, not knowing where you're going with this “Clint and I came back first from ours, we were bored and there was no one around to stop us from doing anything stupid so…” you trail off, shrugging while laughing.

Steve looks shocked, Sam is laughing his ass off while Tony immediately goes to look for the security footage.

They all cheered while watching you throw yourself off the roof, Clint's yells and laughter could be heard, and then Steve shakes his head while joining you in the laughter when you see Clint take his turn and scream like a little girl while you fall to the ground laughing on the video.

Once you all composed yourselves, Tony pokes Wanda’s arm “I thought you said she had a teddy bear.” he's looking at her like she brought him on a treasure hunt and then betrayed him and left him for dead on a deserted island.

“She does! She got it from-” you interrupt her before she can finish the sentence, blushing a little and avoiding Bucky’s eyes.

“I do have a teddy bear, I just don’t sleep with it.” you say, shrugging.

“Oh, come on, that’s cheating!” Natasha whines.

“It’s really not, just because I do have one it doesn’t mean I didn’t tell a lie about it” you laugh at her pout.

“Wait a minute, so you’ve never had a New Year’s kiss?” Tony looks at you like you suddenly grew two heads.

“It’s not a big deal. Funny thing is, I have had boyfriends during New Year’s Eve, I just never happen to spend the day with them.” you say absentmindedly while thinking back at all the parties you’ve been to over the years to celebrate the new year.

“Really?” it's so quiet you almost missed it, your eyes snapping up to meet Bucky’s that were already looking at you.

“Is that so hard to believe?” The room seems to go quiet as everybody looks at you two, but you're too focused on each other to notice.

“I didn’t- I mean…” his cheeks started to turn a little pink as he seemed to have trouble finishing his sentence “It’s just you’re very pretty, who wouldn’t want to kiss you?”

You didn’t know what to say to that, you start blushing too while opening and closing your mouth a couple of times, looking like a damn fish.

You settle for a quiet ‘thank you’ with a smile that he shyly returns, neither of you noticing the glances passed by everyone else.

The whole team is convinced that there’s something between you and Bucky, but both of you always deny it and don’t seem to read too much into each other’s actions, always dismissing the glances and lingering touches as friendly affection even though you’re not really that close.

But really what else could it be?

The team lets the moment end and the game goes on, everyone keeps drinking and having fun until it gets really late and you all decide to call it a night.

Bucky goes to his bedroom and gets ready for sleep but he can’t seem to focus on anything else but you.

He really doesn’t understand how can anybody see your pretty self when you’ve just woken up, no makeup and your eyes full of sleep and not want to kiss you, let alone when you are all dolled up in a pretty golden dresses like you do every New Year’s.

Every year it gets harder for him not to just grab you and kiss you, hell every day is pretty much torture to see you around the Compound and not get to be with you the way he wants to.

But he has to keep his hands to himself because there’s no way you could actually like him like that.

He’s even tried to drop hints here and there like giving you the teddy bear for Valentine’s Day but, except for the cute shade of pink that your face turned, you still didn’t seem all that interested.

Still, that didn’t stop him from thinking what it would be like if you did like him and fantasize about being your first New Year’s kiss and maybe even your last first kiss.

At the same time you were in your own room getting ready for bed while your own thoughts kept going back to the moment you shared with Bucky in the living room.

You didn’t know if you were more embarrassed because you actually told the team you’ve never had a kiss on New Year’s Eve or happy because Bucky called you pretty.

If it was anyone else you wouldn’t even think twice about it, but coming from him it just felt like you were being complimented for the first time ever.

Everytime you thought about it you felt all warm and fuzzy inside, and at this point the moment was pretty much on loop in your mind.

The more you think about it the more you feel your face heat up, sleep not coming easily as you slip into Bucky filled dreams.

The next day everybody’s hanging out in the living room, most of them nursing a hangover from last night. You get ready for a last minute shopping trip to try and find a new dress for New Year’s Eve.

When you get to the living room you see Steve grinning at a disgruntled Tony, Wanda, Sam and Natasha who are obviously very hangover and nowhere near as amused as the blonde supersoldier.

Bucky’s attention is on you as soon as you're in his field of vision and no one fails to notice it, except you of course, your own attention on Wanda and Natasha sprawled on the couch.

“Well, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to come shopping with me,” you start watching from one to the other, as amused as Steve at everyone’s inability to contain themselves when drinking. “but I don’t think that’s happening.”

“Bite me, YLN.” Is all Nat says.

Wanda, on the other hand, is a little gentler. “I can come with you, if you want.” she says sweetly.

“That’s okay, Wands.” you smile at her “just rest and drink lots of water.”

You turn around, saying bye to everyone and making your way out. As soon as the doors of the elevator close, everyone turns to Bucky that's not even pretending not to be staring anymore.

Not that anyone could ignore the longing look on Bucky’s face as he watches you walk away.

“Buck,” Steve starts talking, glancing at everyone before setting his gaze back on his best friend. “we need to talk.”

“Okay…” he slowly drags out, unsure if he even wants Steve to keep going.

“Well, we’ve been noticing some things lately…” He’s unsure of how to say this. “Between you and Y/N.”

Bucky’s cheeks start to turn a slight shade of pink, but he’s still not sure where Steve’s going with this so he says nothing.

“So we thought” he gestures around at everybody. “that maybe we should-”

“We know you like her, and we want to help you get with her.” Tony interrupts Steve, quickly getting to the point.

At Steve’s glare, Tony merely raises his hands in surrender saying, “Listen, Capsicle, I’m way too hungover to take the panoramic route. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Yeah, Stark’s right.” Sam says, turning Bucky whose face is fully red now. “You have a weak ass game, man. Let us help you.”

They all look at the brunette supersoldier while waiting for his answer. He chews on his lip while looking at the expectant faces of his friends, before letting out a deep sigh.

“How would you even help me?” He says quietly, neither accepting nor denying their help just yet.

“Well, we know Y/N,” Wanda says.

“Yeah, we can tell you what turns her on.” Natasha smirked, before Wanda flicks her ear making her let out an ‘ow’ with a slight pout.

“What she means is,” she glares at Natasha “we can tell you what she likes, you know. Maybe help you get closer to her.”

Bucky shakes his head lightly “This is not a good idea. And it doesn’t even matter if she doesn’t like me.”

Wanda and Natasha seem to have a silent conversation, ending with Natasha raising her eyebrow at Wanda and Wanda just sighing with a soft ‘fine’.

“She does like you.” Wanda turns back to Bucky.

“She’s just convinced that you don’t like her like that.” Natasha says with a roll of her eyes.

Bucky still wasn’t completely convinced, but he agreed nonetheless. Maybe it was the glimmer of hope the girls gave him, but if there was even the slightest chance you could actually like him, he owed it to himself to try.

So he let the team make a plan to get you guys together, hoping to god he wouldn’t come to regret it.

You come home a few hours later, super excited to have found the perfect dress for the party the next night.

Bucky thought you were just so cute, all smiles and giggles.

Wanda and Nat talked you into having the last girls night of the year, although it didn’t really take much convincing.

And so the plan begins.

You’re relaxing on your bed, Wanda lying next to you, your head on her lap, and Nat sprawled on the love seat near the window close to your bed.

You’re wearing bathrobes, sheet masks on your faces as you watch a cheesy romcom that you’re so embarrassingly into you don’t even notice the girls exchange a look and nod at each other.

Wanda clears her throat and then begins talking, as casually as she can. “So, how come you never told us you never had a New Year’s kiss?”

They had to approach the subject somehow, right?

“I don’t know,” you say absentmindedly and then shrug, your attention still on the Tv. “didn’t think it was important.”

“Sure it isn’t.” Nat said, and her tone took your attention away from the movie for the first time since it started.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Tasha?” she simply shrugs, an innocent look in the face.

“It doesn’t mean anything” she says, her attention seemingly on the movie “I mean, if it doesn’t bother you, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Why would it bother me?” you frown, you don't understand what's so weird about this.

“Well, some people might find it a little…” Wanda trails off.

“Sad?” Natasha ends for her.

“It’s not like I’ve never kissed anyone.” you're starting to get a little defensive.

“We know that, sweetie.” Wanda coos, stroking your hair while you look up at her.

“We really didn’t mean anything by it.” Natasha ends, giving you an apologetic look.

“Yeah, whatever.” is all you say, and you turn your eyes back to the tv, your attention nowhere near it.

Natasha and Wanda can basically hear the gears turn in your head and give each other one last glance.

Part one of the plan is complete.

The next day goes through like usual, the team spending basically the whole morning together.

It’s a tradition, having the last breakfast of the year together, watching the last movie, having the last lunch and so on. Doing all the lasts together.

It’s silly, but it’s a tradition you've all come to be very fond of.

The afternoon comes and you and the girls spend it getting ready for the party, last night’s conversation almost forgotten.

Almost.

As you got to the party the music was deafening before you even stepped out of the elevator and, once you did, you were immediately immersed in a sea of perfume and cologne and, like every other Stark party extravaganza, you didn’t know about 98% of the people there.

You quickly find the team, as outgoing as most of them are, you usually spend most of the night together because it’s the last night of the year, last party and, again, it's your tradition.

You talk, you joke, you laugh but the more you drink the more you keep thinking about your conversation with the girls last night.

Was it really that sad that you’ve never started a new year with a kiss?

Midnight came sooner than you would’ve liked and your teammates decide to ask you a sobering question.

“So, who are you kissing?” Tony asks very casually.

You turn around confused, the team’s eyes all on you. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, nobody told you?” Sam says, looking around him “We’re all kissing someone tonight.”

“I- You- What?” you glance towards Bucky so quickly he almost thought he imagined it.

“Well, Romanoff is kissing Rogers, I’m obviously kissing Pepper and Wanda is kissing Wilson.” Tony said, before specifying while pointing at the last two “As friends, obviously.”

“So, you’re all kissing someone?” You look at everyone except the one person you actually want to look at.

Something inside of you just believes that he would nod too and a beautiful woman that you could never compare to would appear at his side.

“Well,” Steve starts. “not all of us…”

He trails off and, following his gaze, you land on the very pair of blue eyes you were trying to avoid.

Suddenly everyone else scatters and it was just you and Bucky. You don't know what to say, but you feel like you can't look away from him now.

What the hell is happening to you?

You’re talking before you can even stop yourself “You know, we could also kiss. As friends.” you add, realizing what you just said, your eyes wide with your own surprise.

He’s about to say something, but you don’t give him a chance to get a sound out before you’re backtracking so fast you might actually fall out the window.

“You don’t have to. Obviously. It’s not like I’d make you.” you chuckled awkwardly, but you can’t stop yourself from rambling “Unless you wanted to. But why would you want to? It’s not like you’re missing anything. I’m not anything special.”

You can hear the countdown starting, but it sounds distant to your ears as your heart pounds faster. “I mean, I’m sure you’re a good kisser. Why wouldn’t you be? Not that you’re like a lady’s man.”

Bucky glances around him, the team giving him encouraging looks as they near zero and you just keep going “But like you were, you know. Not that it’s a bad thi-”

You're thankfully interrupted abruptly by Bucky’s lips on yours just as everyone yells ‘Happy New Year’ and gold and black confetti starts falling down on you.

You can't even begin to comprehend what's happening but your body does, kissing him back almost immediately.

It feels like forever and also too soon when he pulls away, you can't even hearing the chaos around you anymore.

All that exists is you and Bucky and his eyes and his arms around your waist and yours around his neck and his lips that you wanted to kiss again and kiss forever and never stop.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that” he says after a few seconds. Or maybe days. Weeks? Hours? It doesn’t matter.

All that matters is the bright smile he gives you when you say “Me too.”

He kisses you again, but this time the spell is broken by the team’s whistles and cheers.

When you pull away you’re both blushing a little, you glance around you and see all the smug faces of the idiots you love to death, Bucky’s attention never leaving you.

“And by the way,” Bucky says, gaining your attention once more. “you have more qualities than you think,” he then pointed at your chest “You have this.”

You looked down to where he was pointing before saying “I do have great tits, yes.”

When you looked back at him he was blushing even harder and looked like he was having a hard time maintaining eye contact, while you were more relaxed now that the kiss took away all the awkwardness, but trying hard not to laugh.

“... I meant heart” he said after a few moments of silence.

“Either or.” you answered, shrugging and when you heard the snickers of the team around you, you couldn’t help but join them, followed by a still blushing Bucky.

Yep, this year is definitely gonna be an interesting one.

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chubbeh-seel · 1 month ago

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tfatws!Bucky Barnes will do everything in his power to keep you safe from John Walker and Zemo, making sure to call you when he is in Madripoor to help you relax and know he is as safe as he can be at that moment.

soft!Bucky Barnes who always has his hands on you while you are together in the room, either around your waist or holding your hand, he needs to be touching you. He doesn’t care if others are around or not, he will have his hands on you either way.

tfatws!Bucky Barnes is the type of man to get you flowers “just because” like how he would if it was still the 1940’s. He is an old fashioned man, not much for dating apps, he doesnt understand them.

40’s!Bucky Barnes who carries a picture of you in his wallet and shows the picture of you off to anyone. When other women try to ask him anything, the first thing he says is “I’m not interested, I have a wife” and shows her your picture, even though you two aren’t married……. Yet.

House-husband!Bucky Barnes who always has dinner ready for you when you get home from work, he never was too good at cooking but he learned a few recipes that he gets perfect every single time. He is secretly trying to learn how to cook your favorite food while you are at work and he wants to surprise you with it on your birthday.

Bucky Barnes who always puts an effort during the holidays and your birthday. Getting you all your favorite snacks and making you your favorite meals and later having you as his meal. He may keep a stoic front, but when it comes to you, he is a loving and caring person who always makes sure you are happy and properly cared for, in and out of the sheets.

#bucky barnes imagine #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #winter soldier #the winter soldier #the winter solider x reader

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jobean12-blog · 1 year ago

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It's a Wrap!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Ft Alpine and Winter)

Word Count: 1,211

Summary: Getting anything done with two floofy floofs around is never easy...of course they're just so cute but also pains in the butt (in the best way!)

Author's Note: Just love Bucky with his animals so much and this idea popped into my head. There is no particular Holiday or occasion mentioned here so whatever one you want to use is perfect! The dog, Winter, is the one I always use in my stories- he has three legs and Bucky adopted him and of course there is Alpine our fav kitty. The photos in my moodboard are what I imagine they'd look like! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: Soft and sweet fluff and fun and the cutest animals ever!

“Hey mister!”

Bucky gently tugs the bow from Alpine’s claws.

“That’s not for you to play with! You have plenty of toys!”

Bucky turns to Alpine’s toy bin and points with a stern look. “See…too many toys!”

Winter hops over and nudges Bucky’s arm with a cold nose, a large stuffed duck hanging from his mouth.

Bucky scratches behind the dog’s ears. “I know buddy. That’s your favorite duck.”

Winter’s tail thumps loudly against the side of the couch as he cocks his head to the side.

“If I play now I’ll never get this done,” Bucky tells Winter softly.

He then leans closer to the dog and whispers in his ear. “And if Alpine doesn’t quit his shit I’m gonna have to lock him in the bathroom.”

Winter drops his toy and barks loudly, side eyeing the cat.

“I know,” Bucky says in comradery. “But let’s see how we do.”

Winter promptly does his best stretch and then lays down right next to Bucky.

“Ohhhh big stretch,” Bucky says before giving Winter a pat.

The dog’s long, fluffy and white tail thumps a few more times before he settles quietly, the majority of his body pressed against Bucky’s outstretched leg.

Alpine, not wanting to be left out, sashays over and sits right in front of Bucky, looking up at him with big blue expectant eyes.

“Alpine,” Bucky sighs. “You can’t sit there bud. How am I supposed to wrap?”

The cat blinks several times and then lifts his paw to lick it, clearly uncaring.

Bucky scoops up the cat and positions him on his thigh next to Winter.

Winter ears go up and he sniffs Alpine a few times before settling back down. Alpine gently bats at Winter’s nose before he lays on his side and gets comfortable.

“FINALLY!” Bucky huffs. “Now maybe I can get some things wrapped before Mommy gets home.”

At the word “mommy,” both animals perk up.

“She’ll be home soon,” Bucky assures them with soft pets. “But I need to at least get her gift wrapped first!”

Bucky looks between the rolls of wrapping paper. “Which one should I use?”

Neither Winter nor Alpine respond so Bucky makes a commitment on his own. As soon as he starts to unroll the paper Alpine pounces, pawing and poking at it.

“Alpine!” Bucky chides as he lifts him up. “You can’t play with that!”

Alpine meows loudly as his legs swing back at forth and his tail swishes side to side. Bucky turns the cat so they are face to face.

“Listen you. Unless you’re gonna help you have to behave!”

“MEOW!”

“I’ll put you in the bathroom!”

Winter’s head lifts and he huffs.

“I know I won’t but still…” Bucky grumbles.

He takes Alpine and sets him on his shoulder. “Stay there!”

Alpine digs his claws into Bucky’s Henley and sits perched atop his broad shoulder.

Winter rests his head on Bucky’s thigh.

“Ok, here we go again,” Bucky sighs.

He takes your gift and sets it down in the center of the paper and begins to fold it.

Winter’s wet nose immediately pokes at the paper, leaving a wet spot.

“Doggo!” Bucky says sharply. “Watch that honker.”

Winter’s tail wags still and he scoots closer, inspecting everything with his big black nose.

Once Bucky has it wrapped as best he can he looks at the bag of ribbon.

“This one?” he says as he holds up a particularly pretty one.

Alpine immediately swats at it with a clawed paw and Winter tries to give it a small nibble.

“Shit,” Bucky mutters. “You two are no help!”

Bucky secures the bow as best he can then looks over his handiwork.

“I mean…,” he starts as he looks it over. “It’s the thought that counts right?”

Alpine grows bored with the now wrapped gift and starts to bat at the stray hairs that have fallen loose from Bucky’s bun.

Winter licks Bucky’s hand.

“Thanks guys.”

The sound of the lock turning alerts everyone to your arrival and Bucky quickly hides the gift then follows the animals in their rush to greet you.

“Hi doll face,” Bucky says as he takes you in his arms.

Winter shimmies his large body between the two of you until you pet him and Alpine slips between your legs to rub against you.

“Hi guys!” you smile.

“We missed you,” Bucky says.

“I missed you all more.”

You wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck and press your lips to his.

“What have you been up to?” you whisper.

“Nothin’ much,” Bucky answers.

Winter barks.

You raise an eyebrow and slip from Bucky’s grasp. As you approach the living room Winter bounds past you and starts to dance his paws on top of the mess Bucky left.

“Wrapping?” you ask as Bucky slides up behind you and circles his arms around your waist.

“I thought I should get started,” he murmurs against your ear.

“Want some help?” you ask.

“Definitely,” he answers. “Between these two floofs,” and he motions to Alpine and Winter, “I only got one thing wrapped.”

Bucky sits and leans back along the couch, spreading his legs wide and patting between them. You sit in the open space and rest your back to his chest.

As soon as you grab the wrapping paper, Alpine appears out of nowhere and attacks it.

“See what I’ve been dealing with!” Bucky whines even as you feel his body shake with laughter. “A menace!

Winter, as if knowing he was left out, tries to smash his way onto Bucky’s lap.

“TWO MENACES!” Bucky adds in a huff.

You giggle and pick up Alpine, smooshing him to your chest and cooing at him sweetly.

“Have you been driving daddy nuts all afternoon my sweet boy?”

Alpine nuzzles his head under your chin and purrs.

“And what about you,” you say to Winter as you wrap your free arm around his fluffy neck and scratch his head. “Who’s my good boy?”

Winter’s whole-body wiggles in joy and he starts to lick your face.

“Aw Buck. They couldn’t have been that bad!”

Bucky grumbles something inaudible from behind you and it only makes you love on the babies more.

“How about we just have a cuddle party? We can wrap later,” you suggest.

“I love this plan,” Bucky hums. “But first…we need sustenance!”

He stands and then helps you up before walking into the kitchen. You hear the rustle of bags and the banging of cabinets as you prepare the couch with the pillows and blankets.

As soon as you’re seated Winter paws at the spot on the cushion where he usually lays. You give him a small lift to help him up and then watch as Alpine walks along the edge of the couch and jumps down to the pillow below.

Bucky comes back in with his arms full of goodies.

“Look at this cuddle party,” he muses as he sits next to you.

You snuggle into Bucky’s side and Winter snuggles closer to you. Even Alpine curls up close to Bucky, his warm head pressed against his metal arm.

With your snacks at the ready and Lord of the Rings on the screen you settle into the soft warmth and comfort of your little family.

@hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @randomfandompenguin @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @goldylions

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky and alpine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #alpine barnes #winter barnes

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amethystarachnid · 2 months ago

Note

Hi, can you do a High School AU with Modern Steve Rogers.

For you Valentine's Day thing. :)

Please.

PROM

⤷ STEVE G. ROGERS

ᯓ★ Pairing: Steve G. Rogers x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Requests status: open

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ Word count: 7.6k

ᯓ★ TW(s): a little spicy scene at then end

ᯓ★ From: MARVEL Love is in the air - Valentine's Day special game

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The cold air bites at your skin as you tug your sweater closer around you, navigating the crowded halls of Brooklyn High. The chatter of students echoes around you, lockers slamming, laughter bouncing off the walls. You try to make yourself smaller, slipping past clusters of people who barely acknowledge your presence. It’s not like you mind. You’ve always been more comfortable blending into the background.

Except, no matter how much you try to stay unnoticed, there’s always one person whose gaze finds you.

Steve Rogers.

Captain of the hockey team. Star athlete. Straight-A student. He’s the kind of guy who could walk into a room and have every eye on him without even trying. And yet, whenever you catch him looking at you—which happens more often than you can explain—there’s something different in his eyes. Something warm. Something that makes your heart stumble in your chest, even though you tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything.

You push the thought away as you reach your locker, spinning the combination dial with practiced ease. Just as you pull it open, a familiar voice calls your name.

“Hey, kid.”

Bucky Barnes slings an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side with a grin. Your older brother is one of the few people who never fails to acknowledge you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his usual greeting.

“I’m not a kid,” you mutter, but there’s no real annoyance behind it.

Bucky laughs, ruffling your hair before you swat his hand away. “Yeah, yeah. You coming to the game tonight?”

You hesitate, shifting on your feet. You don’t usually go to school events unless absolutely necessary, and Bucky knows it. But he asks anyway, because he likes having you there, and maybe a tiny part of you likes watching him play.

And maybe, just maybe, you don’t mind watching Steve either.

“I don’t know…” you start, but before you can finish, another voice joins the conversation.

“You should come.”

You freeze, gripping the edge of your locker a little tighter. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is. You recognize the voice, deep and steady, laced with something softer when he speaks to you.

Steve.

Bucky doesn’t seem to notice your reaction, too busy digging through his own locker a few feet away. “Yeah, see? Even Steve thinks you should go.”

You finally turn, looking up at him. He’s leaning against the lockers, hockey jacket unzipped over his hoodie, arms crossed over his chest. His blond hair is a little messy, like he’s been running his hands through it, and his blue eyes—so damn bright it’s unfair—are focused on you.

For a second, you wonder if he actually cares whether you show up or if he’s just being polite. But then you see the way his fingers tighten against his sleeve, the way his jaw tenses slightly, like he’s bracing himself for you to say no.

You swallow, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. “I’ll think about it.”

Steve nods, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression. Disappointment? Hope? You can’t tell, and before you can analyze it, Bucky slams his locker shut and claps Steve on the shoulder.

“Alright, let’s get to practice before Coach skins us alive.”

Steve nods, but his eyes linger on you for just a second longer before he turns and follows Bucky down the hall.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

It’s ridiculous. The way your heart speeds up when he looks at you, the way your skin burns when he’s too close. You tell yourself it’s nothing. That it’s just because he’s Bucky’s best friend.

It doesn’t mean anything.

At least, that’s what you try to believe.

—

The rink is buzzing with energy when you step inside later that night. The game hasn’t started yet, but the stands are already packed, students decked out in school colors, waving banners and chanting excitedly. You make your way to the back, settling into a seat near the edge where it’s quieter.

You’re not even sure why you came. Maybe it’s because Bucky asked. Maybe it’s because Steve asked. Maybe it’s because some stupid part of you wanted to see him play, wanted to watch the way he moves on the ice, wanted to catch even one of those rare moments when his eyes might find you in the crowd.

The team skates onto the ice, and the cheers grow louder. Your eyes immediately land on Steve. He moves effortlessly, powerful strides carrying him across the rink, his gaze focused, determined. He looks completely in his element.

Bucky skates up beside him, nudging his shoulder before pointing towards the stands. Towards you.

You stiffen as Steve follows his gesture, his gaze locking onto yours.

And then he smiles.

It’s barely noticeable, just a small quirk of his lips, but it’s there. Just for a second. Just for you.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you force yourself to look away, pretending to be focused on something else. But you can still feel it, the weight of his attention, the warmth spreading through your chest despite the cold air around you.

You shouldn’t feel like this.

But you do.

And you don’t know what to do about it.

—

The game is intense, fast-paced, and even though you don’t usually care about hockey, you find yourself caught up in it. The way Steve moves, the way he commands the ice, the way he and Bucky work together like they can read each other’s minds—it’s impossible not to watch.

By the time the final buzzer sounds, your school has won, and the crowd erupts into cheers. The players pile onto the ice, celebrating, and you watch as Steve and Bucky bump fists before skating off.

You hesitate before standing, debating whether you should just slip out unnoticed. But before you can move, a familiar voice calls out.

“Hey!”

You turn just in time to see Bucky pushing through the crowd towards you, still grinning from the win. Steve is right behind him, his expression more reserved, but his eyes never leaving you.

“You saw that, right?” Bucky says, breathless. “We crushed ‘em.”

You nod. “Yeah, you guys were… really good.”

Bucky slings an arm around your shoulders. “See? Told you it’d be worth coming.”

You glance at Steve, who’s watching you with that same unreadable expression. You’re about to look away when he speaks.

“I’m glad you came.”

His voice is quieter than Bucky’s, but somehow, it drowns out everything else.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Yeah… me too.”

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly, and for a second, it feels like it’s just the two of you standing there, the noise of the crowd fading into the background.

And for the first time, you wonder if maybe he’s been looking at you the same way you’ve been looking at him.

The days after the hockey game pass in a blur, slipping into the routine of school, homework, and avoiding unnecessary social interactions. You still catch Steve looking at you sometimes—across the cafeteria, in the hallways, when he's with Bucky. And each time, something in your stomach twists uncomfortably, like you're balancing on the edge of something unknown, something you’re not sure you’re ready for.

You tell yourself it's nothing.

He’s just being polite.

But then there are moments—like when you drop your books in the hallway, and he’s there before anyone else, kneeling to help you gather them up. Or when you pass each other by the lockers, and he sends you a small, hesitant smile, even when he’s surrounded by his friends. Or when he lingers just a little too long whenever Bucky drags you into a conversation with him after school.

You try to ignore it, but it’s impossible when he’s everywhere. And it only gets worse when the school announces the Valentine’s Day prom.

It’s all anyone can talk about.

The posters go up on Monday morning—red and pink hearts plastered across the bulletin boards, glittery letters spelling out Brooklyn High Valentine’s Prom: Saturday Night! The second the announcement is made, the school erupts into chaos. Girls giggle excitedly in clusters, whispering about their potential dates, while the guys groan about the pressure of asking someone out.

It’s not something you care about. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

You’re pretty sure no one’s going to ask you, and that’s fine. It’s not like you’ve ever imagined yourself at a school dance, dressed up in something fancy, slow-dancing under dimmed lights.

Except when you least expect it, your thoughts slip back to Steve.

You shake the idea out of your head every time. He’s Steve Rogers—hockey captain, golden boy, the guy every girl in school wants to be with. There’s no reason he’d waste his time thinking about you when he has a lineup of girls practically throwing themselves at him.

And yet.

Steve is thinking about you.

He’s thinking about you so much that it’s starting to drive him insane.

He’s never been good at hiding his feelings—at least, not when it comes to you. He’s spent years keeping this thing buried, years pretending you were just his best friend’s little sister, even though he’s known for a long time that you’re so much more than that.

And now, with prom around the corner, he sees his chance.

But it’s not easy when half the school is expecting him to take someone else.

“Hey, Stevie,” a voice sings, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He barely has time to react before Peggy Carter slides up beside him, smiling that knowing smile of hers. She’s one of the most popular girls in school—sharp, confident, effortlessly charming. And she’s been trying to get his attention for weeks.

“So… prom’s coming up,” she says, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “Have you thought about who you’re taking?”

Steve tenses. He knows where this is going.

“I, uh…” He clears his throat. “Not yet.”

Peggy tilts her head, pretending to be surprised. “Really? Because, you know… a lot of people are waiting for you to ask someone.”

By a lot of people, she means the entire female population of Brooklyn High.

Steve forces a polite smile. “I guess I just haven’t decided.”

She pouts slightly, stepping a little closer. “Well, if you do decide soon… I wouldn’t mind an invitation.”

Before he can respond, she winks and saunters off, leaving him standing there, feeling suffocated.

It’s not just Peggy.

All week, girls have been dropping hints, batting their lashes, finding excuses to talk to him. Even Bucky teases him about it.

“You’ve got options, man,” Bucky laughs one afternoon at practice, shoving his shoulder playfully. “Half the school is waiting for you to make a move.”

Steve just exhales, tightening his grip on his hockey stick. “Yeah… I know.”

Bucky nudges him again. “So? Who’s the lucky girl?”

Steve hesitates. For a second, he considers telling him the truth. That he’s only ever wanted to ask one person, and that person is you.

But he doesn’t.

Because Bucky is your brother, and if Steve screws this up—if he asks you and it somehow ruins everything—he’s not sure he can handle losing both of you.

“I dunno,” he mutters instead. “Haven’t decided.”

Bucky just grins, oblivious. “Well, don’t take too long. People are getting antsy.”

Steve doesn’t respond. Because the truth is, he has decided.

He just doesn’t know if he has the guts to follow through.

You don’t expect anything when you walk into school on Friday morning.

You’re halfway through the hallway when you hear the whispers. People are staring at you more than usual, murmuring to each other, their eyes darting between you and something up ahead.

Confused, you keep walking—until you see it.

Your locker is covered in decorations.

Pink and red hearts, taped all around the edges. A small envelope, neatly tucked into the slats.

Your heart stutters.

You don’t know who did it, but there’s already a sinking suspicion in your gut. Hands trembling slightly, you reach out and pull the envelope free.

Inside, there’s a small, folded note.

Meet me outside after school. I’ll be waiting.

There’s no name.

But you have a feeling you already know who it is.

You spend the rest of the day in a daze.

You try not to let yourself hope. Maybe it’s a prank. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe you’re reading too much into it.

But still, when the last bell rings, you find yourself making your way outside, heart hammering.

And then you see him.

Steve is standing by the steps, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, shifting on his feet like he’s nervous. He looks up the second he hears you approaching, and something in his face softens.

“You came.”

You swallow hard. “You left me a note.”

He nods, exhaling like he’s been holding his breath. “Yeah. I, uh…” He hesitates, running a hand through his hair before looking at you again. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Your pulse pounds in your ears. “Okay.”

He takes a step closer, and suddenly, it’s just the two of you. The sounds of the schoolyard fade into the background.

“I know prom’s a big deal for a lot of people,” he says, voice careful. “And I know you’re not really into that kind of thing. But…” He shifts, rubbing the back of his neck. “I want to go. But only if you go with me.”

Your breath catches.

For a moment, you think you’ve misheard him. That this is some kind of cruel joke.

But then you look at him—really look at him. And you see it. The nervous way he’s watching you, like he’s afraid of your answer. The way his hands tighten into fists at his sides. The way his eyes are shining with something you can’t quite name.

He’s serious.

Steve Rogers is asking you to prom.

You open your mouth, then close it again, because you don’t know what to say.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he adds quickly, misreading your silence. “I just… I needed to ask.”

Your heart is racing.

And for the first time, you let yourself believe it—let yourself believe that maybe, all those stolen glances and quiet smiles meant something after all.

You inhale sharply, meeting his gaze.

“Yes.”

His brows lift slightly. “Yeah?”

You nod, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Yeah. I’ll go with you.”

Steve exhales in relief, and then—he smiles.

And it’s the kind of smile that makes your stomach flip, the kind that makes the world feel a little brighter.

The kind that makes you realize this might just be the start of something you never saw coming.

The Barnes house is usually loud.

Between Bucky’s constant chatter, your mom yelling at him to put his dirty hockey gear in the laundry, and the old radio playing classic rock in the kitchen, it’s never really quiet. But this week, there’s a different kind of energy.

You feel lighter. It’s impossible not to. Ever since Steve asked you to prom, you’ve caught yourself smiling at random moments, zoning out in class, replaying the way he looked at you, the way his voice softened when he said I want to go, but only if you go with me.

It doesn’t go unnoticed.

Bucky notices everything.

At first, he doesn’t say anything, just watches you with narrowed eyes whenever you hum under your breath or check your phone more often than usual. But by Wednesday night, he’s done pretending he isn’t suspicious.

“You’re acting weird.”

You look up from your notebook, blinking. “What?”

Bucky leans against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. “You’re acting weird. Like… smiling-for-no-reason weird. Like you’re actually excited for prom.”

Your stomach clenches, but you keep your face neutral. “I never said I wasn’t going.”

“You never care about school events,” Bucky argues, pointing at you accusingly. “Last year, you called prom a pointless parade of teenage delusion.”

Damn it. You did say that.

You shift uncomfortably, playing with the corner of your notebook. “Well… maybe I changed my mind.”

Bucky’s eyes narrow further. “Why?”

Your heart beats a little faster. He’s going to find out eventually—there’s no way he won’t. But you don’t know how to tell him.

You’re saved, temporarily, by your mom walking into the kitchen. She looks between the two of you, raising a brow. “What’s going on?”

Bucky gestures at you. “She’s being weird.”

Your mom looks unimpressed. “She’s a teenage girl. That’s normal.”

“No, like weird weird,” Bucky insists. “She’s actually excited about prom.”

Your mom pauses, then turns to you with interest. “Oh? That is new. Did someone ask you?”

You freeze. Bucky stares.

Your silence is damning.

“Holy shit.” Bucky’s eyes widen. “You have a date.”

You groan, rubbing your hands over your face. “Bucky—”

“Who is it?” he demands. “Wait—oh my God, if it’s Peter Parker, I’m throwing you both into the Hudson.”

“It’s not Peter.”

Bucky studies you for a second, his brows furrowing. Then, suddenly, realization dawns in his eyes.

“No way.”

Your stomach flips. “Bucky—”

“No way,” he repeats, looking horrified. “Steve?”

Your face must give it away, because Bucky gapes at you, mouth dropping open. Then he whirls around, dragging his hands down his face.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters. “Unbelievable.”

You sigh. “Bucky, it’s not a big deal—”

“Not a big deal?” He turns back to you, eyes wide. “Steve—my best friend—Steve?”

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes. “Would you relax? It’s just a date.”

Bucky scoffs. “Just a—? No. No, because I know him. And I know he’s been into you for years.”

Your breath catches. “What?”

Bucky throws his hands in the air. “Oh, come on. You really never noticed? He looks at you like a lovesick idiot all the time.”

You stare at him, your heart hammering. “You never said anything.”

“Because I didn’t think you liked him,” Bucky exclaims. “And I figured if he made a move, I’d have to kill him anyway.”

You roll your eyes. “Very mature.”

Bucky groans, dragging his hands through his hair. “Ugh. I need to sit down.” He drops into a chair, shaking his head. “This is so weird.”

You cross your arms. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I have to be dramatic,” Bucky argues. “It’s in my contract as your older brother.”

Your mom, who has been silently observing this entire conversation, finally sighs. “Well, if Steve is taking you to prom, at least I know he’ll treat you well.”

Bucky groans again, but you catch the way his shoulders relax slightly, the way his lips twitch like he’s holding back a smile. He may complain, but you know he trusts Steve more than anyone.

And despite his dramatics, you think he’s secretly glad it’s him.

The night of prom arrives faster than you expect.

For the first time in your life, you’re nervous about how you look.

Your mom helps you get ready, fussing over your hair and adjusting the soft fabric of your dress. You chose something simple but elegant—a deep midnight blue gown that falls just right, the fabric shimmering under the light. It’s not flashy, not over-the-top, but it makes you feel… beautiful.

Which is terrifying.

You take a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the fabric. “Is this too much?”

Your mom smiles. “Sweetheart, you look stunning.”

You swallow, glancing at yourself in the mirror one last time before there’s a knock at the door.

Bucky beats you to it.

“Oh, look,” he deadpans as he opens it. “It’s lover boy.”

You shove him aside just in time to see Steve standing there, looking unfairly good in a fitted suit, his blond hair neatly styled. He’s holding a small corsage in his hand, but he’s not looking at it—he’s looking at you.

And he looks absolutely speechless.

His mouth opens slightly, then closes again like he’s forgotten how to talk.

Bucky snorts. “Real smooth, Rogers.”

Steve finally clears his throat, blinking a few times before managing, “Wow.”

Your cheeks burn. “Um. Hi.”

He exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You look… incredible.”

You shift on your feet, glancing away. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Bucky groans. “Okay, before you two start making heart eyes at each other, let’s go.”

Your mom insists on taking a few pictures, much to Bucky’s dramatic protests, and then you’re finally out the door, your heart pounding as Steve offers you his arm.

And when his fingers brush yours, a quiet, steady warmth settles in your chest.

The moment you and Steve walk into the prom, the entire room seems to pause.

You feel the stares immediately. Murmurs ripple through the crowd as heads turn, people nudging each other and whispering.

Steve Rogers—captain of the hockey team, golden boy of Brooklyn High—walked into prom with you.

You catch glimpses of shocked expressions. Girls who had been trying to get Steve to ask them looking completely blindsided. Guys who had never paid attention to you suddenly glancing your way like they’re seeing you for the first time.

Peggy Carter, standing with a group of popular girls near the dance floor, looks particularly surprised. Her eyes flick between you and Steve, her lips parting slightly.

Steve, to his credit, doesn’t seem to notice.

Or, more likely, he doesn’t care.

His attention is entirely on you.

“You okay?” he asks, voice quiet enough that only you can hear.

You inhale, forcing yourself to focus on him. On the way his blue eyes hold nothing but warmth. On the way he’s standing close, making sure you don’t feel out of place.

You nod slowly. “Yeah.”

His lips curve into a small smile. “Good.”

And then, just like that, the moment passes. The music picks up again, people go back to dancing, and the tension in the air shifts.

Steve holds out his hand. “Dance with me?”

Your heart skips a beat.

You hesitate, then slowly place your hand in his.

And as he pulls you onto the dance floor, the world melts away, leaving just the two of you in the glow of twinkling lights.

The music swells around you as Steve pulls you onto the dance floor. The bass hums under your feet, the chatter of students blends into the beat, and suddenly, you’re surrounded by couples moving in sync under the dim, glittering lights.

You swallow, feeling a little overwhelmed. It’s not like you’ve never danced before, but you’ve never done this—never been the center of attention, never had an entire room secretly (or not-so-secretly) watching you.

Steve must notice your hesitation because his grip on your hand tightens slightly, grounding you.

“You nervous?” he asks, leaning in so you can hear him over the music.

“A little,” you admit.

His lips curve into a small smile. “You don’t have to be. It’s just me.”

And somehow, that helps.

Because it is just Steve—your childhood friend, the boy who’s always been kind to you, the boy who asked you to be his date when he could have had anyone else.

So you let out a breath and nod. “Okay.”

The song playing is more upbeat than a slow dance, and Steve doesn’t hesitate to start moving, his grip on your waist light, his other hand still holding yours. You try to follow his lead, your movements awkward at first, but after a few steps, you let yourself relax.

And then… you’re laughing.

Because Steve Rogers, for all his talent on the ice, is not the best dancer.

He tries, though. He does this ridiculous little move that looks half like a hockey stance, half like he’s dodging something, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Okay, I wasn’t expecting that,” you tease, smiling up at him.

Steve laughs, unashamed. “What, you don’t think I’ve got moves?”

“Oh, you’ve got moves, alright.”

“Good ones?”

You tilt your head, pretending to consider it. “Mmm… debatable.”

He grins, eyes shining. “Guess I’ll just have to impress you some other way.”

Before you can ask what that means, he twirls you—twirls you, like this is some kind of fairytale—and despite yourself, you let out a surprised laugh.

For a moment, everything else fades.

You don’t notice the stares. The whispers. The way Peggy Carter and the other girls who had been fighting for Steve’s attention now stand off to the side, watching in disbelief.

They aren’t subtle.

Peggy’s arms are crossed, her lips pressed into a tight line as she exchanges looks with some of the other cheerleaders. “I told you something was up between them,” she mutters.

Sarah Rogers, another popular girl who had been dropping hints to Steve all week, scoffs. “I don’t get it. No offense, but… her?”

Peggy sighs, shaking her head. “I don’t know. I guess he likes her.”

Another girl huffs. “I still don’t understand why he didn’t just pick someone else.”

No one has an answer for that. Because Steve Rogers is the kind of guy who should be with a girl like Peggy Carter—someone who matches his status, someone who fits into the high school hierarchy.

But instead, he’s here—dancing, laughing, looking at you like you’re the only person in the room.

And that fact alone seems to shatter everything they thought they knew about him.

Bucky, meanwhile, is not enjoying himself.

He’s leaning against the punch table, arms crossed, glaring at the dance floor like it personally offended him.

“You alright, man?” Sam Wilson asks, raising a brow.

Bucky lets out a dramatic sigh. “No, Sam. I’m not alright.”

Sam follows his gaze, then smirks. “Ohhh. You’re mad Steve is dancing with your sister.”

“Damn right I’m mad.” Bucky gestures aggressively. “Look at him. Look at them.”

“They look happy,” Sam points out.

“That’s not the point,” Bucky grumbles. “That’s my baby sister.”

“She’s not a baby.”

“She is to me,” Bucky insists, taking a sip of punch. “And Steve’s my best friend. I trusted him.”

Sam laughs. “Dude, it’s Steve. You make it sound like he’s some player.”

Bucky glares. “I know he’s not. That’s why I’m pissed.”

Sam frowns. “Wait… so you’d rather she date some jerk instead?”

“Of course not.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

Bucky hesitates.

Because there isn’t a problem. Not really.

Steve is the best guy he knows. He’s loyal, he’s kind, and yeah—he’s obviously been head-over-heels for you for years.

But still.

Bucky groans, rubbing his temples. “It’s just… weird, okay?”

Sam pats his shoulder. “You’ll get over it.”

Bucky grumbles something unintelligible but doesn’t argue.

Because deep down, he knows Sam is right.

Back on the dance floor, Steve is still grinning at you like he’s never been happier.

“See?” he says. “Told you this wouldn’t be so bad.”

You roll your eyes but smile. “Okay, fine. You win.”

“I like the sound of that.”

You huff a laugh. “Of course you do.”

The song changes, the beat slowing, and suddenly, couples around you are drawing closer, settling into a slow sway.

You hesitate, your heart picking up speed.

Steve must notice, because he lifts a brow. “We can sit this one out if you want.”

You swallow. “Do you want to sit this one out?”

His gaze softens. “No.”

Your stomach flips.

You take a breath, then step a little closer. Steve’s hands find your waist, warm and steady, and you place yours lightly on his shoulders.

And then, you’re dancing.

It’s slow, gentle—nothing like the awkward shuffle you imagined. Steve moves easily, leading you without hesitation, and you let yourself relax.

“This okay?” he asks, voice low.

You nod, feeling strangely shy. “Yeah.”

He’s looking at you again—that quiet, thoughtful look he always gets when he thinks you aren’t paying attention.

You swallow hard. “What?”

His lips twitch. “Nothing.”

You narrow your eyes. “Steve.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I just… I can’t believe this is real.”

Your breath catches.

He hesitates, then continues, voice softer. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

Your heart pounds. “Dance?”

He smiles. “Be with you.”

The words settle over you like a warm blanket, and for once, you don’t overthink. You don’t panic.

Because this is Steve.

And maybe, just maybe, you’ve been waiting for this, too.

So you take a breath, tighten your grip on his shoulders, and rest your forehead lightly against his.

And in that moment, nothing else matters.

Bucky is losing his mind.

He’s actually going to have a heart attack right here at the punch table.

Because there, in the middle of the dance floor, under the dim glow of twinkling fairy lights, Steve Rogers—his best friend—is holding his baby sister like she’s the only person in the world.

And she’s letting him.

Their foreheads are practically touching. You’re looking at Steve like he’s hung the damn moon. And Steve—Jesus, Steve is looking at you like he’s already in love with you.

Bucky grips the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.

He knew this was happening. He knew Steve had feelings for you. Hell, he’s known for years, even before Steve probably realized it himself. But seeing it? Actually witnessing his best friend hold you like that, touch you like that, dance with you like that?

Nope. Absolutely not.

“Breathe, man.”

Bucky startles. Sam is still standing next to him, watching with clear amusement.

Bucky scowls. “Don’t tell me to breathe.”

Sam snorts. “Dude, you’re gripping that table like it owes you money.”

Bucky doesn’t let go. “He’s holding her.”

“Yes, because they’re dancing,” Sam points out. “At prom. Like normal people.”

Bucky clenches his jaw. “It’s Steve.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “And?”

“And—I know what that look means,” Bucky grits out. “That’s the look of a guy who wants to—”

Sam smirks. “Kiss her?”

Bucky groans, dragging his hands down his face. “God, I’m gonna be sick.”

Sam laughs, patting Bucky’s shoulder. “Relax. Steve’s a good guy. You said it yourself.”

“I know he is. That’s the problem.”

Sam tilts his head. “You’d rather she be with some random asshole?”

“No,” Bucky mutters.

“So what’s the issue?”

Bucky groans. “The issue is Steve is supposed to be my best friend. And she’s my sister. There’s a code.”

Sam snickers. “And did you ever actually tell him about this code?”

Bucky glares. “That’s not the point.”

Sam just shakes his head, watching the dance floor. “Face it, man. You knew this was gonna happen eventually.”

Bucky huffs, but doesn’t argue. Because, yeah. He did.

Still. That doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Especially not when Steve leans in a little closer.

Bucky’s eye twitches. “Oh, hell no.”

He storms off before Sam can stop him.

You don’t even notice Bucky approaching.

Because all you can focus on is Steve.

His hands are warm against your waist, his forehead almost touching yours, his blue eyes soft and searching. The music fades into the background, the room blurs around you, and for the first time all night, you don’t care that people are watching.

It’s just him.

You swallow hard. “Steve…”

He smiles, tilting his head slightly. “Yeah?”

Your heart pounds. You don’t even know what you were going to say. You just know that this moment—this feeling—is something you never want to forget.

And then—

“Alright, break it up!”

You jump as Bucky all but shoves himself between you and Steve, breaking your hold on each other.

Steve stumbles back, eyes wide. “Bucky?”

Bucky glares at him, crossing his arms. “That’s enough.”

You groan, covering your face. “Oh my God.”

Steve blinks. “We were just—”

“I know what you were just doing,” Bucky interrupts. “And I don’t like it.”

Steve sighs. “Buck—”

“Nope. I’m invoking big brother privilege. Step away from my sister.”

You groan again. “Bucky, stop—”

“No,” Bucky says firmly. “Because I see where this is going.” He turns to Steve. “And you, punk, should’ve asked me first.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Ask you?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, like it’s obvious. “That’s how this works. You wanna date my sister? You ask me first.”

You glare at him. “That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Bucky ignores you.

Steve, to his credit, doesn’t look intimidated. Instead, he just sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. I should’ve asked you first. I’m sorry.”

Bucky frowns. “Wait, really?”

Steve shrugs. “Yeah. I get it.” He looks you in the eye, voice soft. “But I was gonna ask you on a proper date first.”

Your breath catches. “You were?”

His lips twitch. “Of course. I just figured I’d wait until after prom.”

Bucky groans. “This is a nightmare.”

You roll your eyes, shoving Bucky aside before turning back to Steve. “You want to take me on a real date?”

Steve nods. “Yeah. If you’ll let me.”

You hesitate for maybe half a second before nodding. “Okay.”

Steve smiles, looking relieved. “Good.”

Bucky makes a strangled noise.

You glare at him. “Leave.”

“No,” Bucky grumbles, arms crossed. “I have to make sure Rogers doesn’t try anything.”

Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Bucky—”

“Nope.”

Steve looks at you, exasperated. You sigh. “Ignore him.”

Steve smirks. “Gladly.”

Bucky groans again. “This is so weird.”

And it is weird.

But when Steve reaches for your hand again—when he gives you that soft, knowing smile—you think maybe it’s the good kind of weird.

Steve picks you up on a Saturday afternoon, his truck packed with a picnic basket and a blanket. He had been oddly secretive about your first official date, only telling you to wear something comfortable. When you press him for details, he just grins and says, “You’ll see.”

The drive is peaceful, the windows rolled down as the early spring breeze sweeps through the cab. Steve drums his fingers against the steering wheel, humming softly to the song playing on the radio. Every now and then, he glances over at you, eyes warm, like he still can’t believe this is happening.

He takes you to a secluded spot near a lake, far enough from town that it feels like you’re the only two people in the world. The grass is soft and green, the water shimmering under the afternoon sun. He lays out the blanket beneath the shade of a tall tree, then starts unpacking the basket.

You sit cross-legged across from him, watching as he pulls out sandwiches, lemonade, and—of course—strawberries.

“You really went all out,” you say, amused.

Steve shrugs, a little sheepish. “Wanted to make it special.”

Your heart flutters.

You eat and talk for hours, the conversation flowing easily. Steve tells you stories about his childhood, some you’ve heard before, others you haven’t. You laugh as he recounts the time he and Bucky tried to build a treehouse but ended up stuck halfway up with no way down.

“I still don’t know how your mom didn’t ground you both for life,” you say, shaking your head.

“Oh, she did,” Steve chuckles. “But she also said it was the most ambitious disaster she’d ever seen.”

The sun starts dipping lower in the sky, painting everything in golden hues. You lay back on the blanket, staring up at the sky as Steve shifts closer, propping himself up on one elbow beside you.

After a moment, he reaches for a strawberry from the basket.

“Want one?” he asks.

You nod, expecting him to hand it to you, but instead, he brings it up to your lips himself.

Your breath catches slightly, but you take a bite, your eyes never leaving his.

Steve watches you, his gaze dipping to your lips. There’s a moment of silence, heavy and electric, and then—

He leans in.

You don’t pull away.

His lips are soft, tentative at first, like he’s giving you a chance to stop him. But you don’t. You kiss him back, your hand lifting to curl lightly into his shirt.

The kiss is sweet, unhurried, tasting faintly of strawberries and lemonade. When you finally pull apart, Steve rests his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he admits.

You smile. “Me too.”

That one kiss leads to more. Dates become a regular thing—late-night drives, walks around town, lazy Sundays at the park. Every time Steve picks you up, he greets you with that same soft smile, the kind that makes your stomach flip. Bucky complains loudly, but he doesn’t actually stop Steve from coming around, which means he’s tolerating it. Barely.

Eventually, the two of you make it official. It’s not some big announcement, but everyone figures it out when Steve starts calling you his girlfriend without hesitation. The looks and whispers at school don’t matter as much anymore. The popular girls still don’t understand how it happened, but Steve never gives them a second glance.

A few weeks later, you’re at home, sitting at the kitchen counter as your mom flips through a magazine. Bucky is sprawled on the couch, half-listening as you and your mom chat.

“I was thinking about getting a wax,” you say casually.

Bucky nearly chokes on his drink.

Your mom hums. “Oh, full-body?”

Bucky makes a strangled noise.

You shake your head. “No, just my legs and maybe a bikini wax.”

Bucky whips his head toward you. “What?”

You blink at him. “What?”

He looks horrified. “Why?”

You shrug. “Because it lasts longer than shaving?”

Bucky stares at you like you’ve just announced you’re moving to Mars. “But—but why now?”

Your mom raises an eyebrow. “Why does it matter?”

Bucky ignores her, still staring at you. “Is this because of him?”

You frown. “Who?”

His eye twitches. “Steve.”

You stare at him. “What does Steve have to do with—”

And then it clicks.

“Oh my God,” you groan. “Bucky, no.”

But he’s already spiraling. “This is it. It’s happening. You’re gonna get a full wax, then you’re gonna go to his house, and then—”

“Bucky, stop.”

He grips his hair. “You’re gonna sleep with him.”

Your mom snorts.

You cover your face. “I hate you.”

Bucky points an accusing finger. “I knew this would happen.”

Your mom sighs. “James, calm down.”

“Calm down?” Bucky sputters. “My baby sister is getting waxed for my best friend!”

“I never said that!” you exclaim.

“But you were talking about it!”

“For myself!”

Bucky doesn’t believe a word of it. “No. Nope. You’re not allowed to go to his house.”

“Oh my God.”

“I trusted him!”

Your mom rolls her eyes. “James, you need to get a grip.”

Bucky shakes his head, muttering under his breath about betrayal and how Steve is so dead the next time he sees him.

You groan, shoving your chair back. “I’m leaving.”

Bucky glares. “To his house?”

“I hate you,” you repeat, grabbing your bag.

Your mom pats your shoulder. “Have fun, sweetheart.”

Bucky gasps. “You’re encouraging this?”

“She’s grown, James.”

“She’s a child.”

“She’s seventeen.”

“Exactly!”

Your mom sighs, standing. “I’m making tea. You need some.”

“I need therapy,” Bucky mutters.

You roll your eyes, walking toward the door.

Bucky calls after you. “Tell him I’m watching!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter.

But when you see Steve later, waiting for you with that soft, dimpled smile, you don’t think about Bucky’s dramatics.

You just think about how lucky you are.

The next few months with Steve are some of the best of your life. The dates keep coming—movie nights at his place, drives with no destination, lazy afternoons spent tangled up in each other on his couch. The longer you’re together, the easier everything feels, like you were always meant to fall into this rhythm.

It’s different with Steve. He isn’t just some guy you’re dating. He’s Steve. The boy who used to pull you up when you tripped running after him and Bucky. The boy who once sat with you on the curb for an hour when you scraped your knee, just so you wouldn’t cry alone. The boy who watched you grow up and somewhere along the way, started looking at you like you were his person.

It’s not just puppy love. It’s real.

And then, one day, it happens.

You go over to Steve’s place on a Sunday afternoon. His parents aren’t home, and neither is Bucky, which is rare. You don’t have a plan—you never do. You just like being with him.

You’re curled up together on the couch, the TV playing some movie neither of you are actually watching. Steve’s arm is around your shoulders, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. You’ve been together long enough that physical affection is second nature, but today, there’s something different in the air, something unspoken simmering just beneath the surface.

When you shift slightly, looking up at him, he’s already watching you.

You don’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s both of you. But suddenly, his lips are on yours, and this time, there’s no hesitance. The kiss deepens quickly, hands gripping tighter, bodies pressing closer.

Your heart is pounding, but you don’t stop. Neither does he.

The shift from the couch to his bedroom is a blur. His hands are careful, his lips soft, his touch reverent, like he’s afraid he’ll break you if he isn’t gentle enough. You feel the same. It’s overwhelming, but not in a bad way. It’s new and uncertain, but it’s him.

And that’s all that matters.

Afterward, you lay in his arms, the room filled with the soft hum of his breathing. He holds you close, his fingers tracing along your spine, and you think to yourself that you’ve never felt safer than you do right now.

He presses a kiss to your hair.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

You nod against his chest. “Yeah. You?”

He exhales a soft laugh. “Yeah.”

You stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the weight of what just happened settling between you in the best way possible. Neither of you regret it. If anything, it feels inevitable, like every moment leading up to this one was pushing you here.

Eventually, the sun starts to set, and you know you have to go home.

Steve walks you to the door, kissing you once, twice, three times before you finally force yourself to leave.

When you get home, Bucky is waiting.

He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, brows furrowed. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a long, scrutinizing look.

You keep your expression neutral. “What?”

His eyes narrow slightly. “Where were you?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Steve’s.”

He tilts his head. “All day?”

You shrug. “Yeah?”

His gaze sharpens, but he doesn’t press. Instead, he just hums, watching as you grab a glass of water and make your way upstairs.

You can feel his suspicion, but you don’t acknowledge it.

It’s fine.

Everything is fine.

Then comes lunch the next day.

You, Steve, and Bucky are sitting together in the cafeteria like always. Sam is off grabbing food, which means Bucky has a clear opportunity to make things uncomfortable.

And he does.

“So,” Bucky starts casually, taking a sip of his drink. “What’d you guys do yesterday?”

You freeze mid-bite.

Steve tenses next to you.

Bucky notices immediately.

His eyes flick between the two of you, interest piqued. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly. Too quickly.

Bucky squints. “That’s suspicious.”

Steve clears his throat. “We just hung out.”

Bucky nods slowly. “Hung out.”

“Yeah.”

“For how long?”

You and Steve exchange a quick glance.

Bucky notices that too.

His eyes narrow further. “You were at his house all day.”

You shrug, forcing yourself to sound normal. “So?”

Bucky leans forward. “What exactly were you doing at his house all day?”

Steve coughs into his drink.

You glare at Bucky. “What are you implying?”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

Steve shifts in his seat. “Buck—”

Bucky ignores him. “I mean, you did get that wax recently.”

You choke.

Steve nearly drops his fork.

Bucky grins.

“Oh my God,” you sputter, heat flooding your face.

Steve groans, rubbing his temples. “Bucky—”

Bucky points a finger. “I knew it.”

You grab a napkin and throw it at his face. “Shut up.”

Bucky swats it away, looking disgusted. “I knew something was off when you got home last night. You were acting weird.”

“I was tired!” you argue.

Bucky scoffs. “Oh, I bet you were.”

Steve covers his face. “Please stop talking.”

Bucky gapes at him. “Oh my God.” He turns back to you. “You did, didn’t you?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands.

Bucky slams his hands on the table. “I knew it!”

People are starting to look.

You lower your voice, glaring. “Bucky, shut up.”

“I trusted you,” Bucky says dramatically, looking at Steve. “I trusted you, and this is how you repay me?”

Steve sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “Bucky—”

Bucky turns back to you. “And you! After everything, you still—” He makes a strangled noise. “I knew this would happen!”

Sam walks up to the table, setting down his tray. “Knew what would happen?”

Bucky throws his hands up. “They slept together!”

Sam chokes on his drink.

Steve groans again. You bang your head against the table.

Sam, still coughing, blinks at the two of you. Then he grins. “Finally.”

Bucky glares at him. “Not helping.”

Sam just laughs. “Oh, this is great.”

“It’s not great,” Bucky snaps. “It’s awful.” He looks back at Steve, betrayal all over his face. “You were supposed to be my best friend.”

Steve sighs. “I am your best friend.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Not anymore.”

“Buck—”

“Nope. Friendship over.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Bucky scowls. “Maybe not, but I am mad at you.”

Steve gives him a flat look. “You’ll get over it.”

Bucky glares. “Don’t bet on it.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Are you done?”

Bucky folds his arms. “Not even close.”

You groan. Steve sighs. Sam grins.

Lunch is ruined.

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