#bucky fanfcition
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Wonderful story 🤌🏼🔥
DEVOUR: a Bucky x Reader short series
a short series centered around a mostly-dark mob boss Bucky Barnes and a female!Chef!Reader at a high end restaurant
True achievement in the restaurant industry requires a relentless drive. No compromises. You’ve risen through the ranks, and when your mentor retires, you’re rightly given the mantle of executive chef at Devour. On your night of ascension, the dining room is packed, and among the guests is notorious mob boss Bucky Barnes - someone equally as relentless in getting what he wants.
Content Warnings (detailed in the beginning of each part): imbalanced power dynamics, bribery, workplace manipulation, NON/DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit language, risk of being caught, food play, knife play, nipple/breast play, vaginal fingering, forced orgasm, edging, unprotected vaginal intercourse, cream pie
SERIES:
salt
fat
acid
heat
MORE STORY:
what happens after you go out with the girls (a few days after heat) mint (a week or two after heat) chocolate (a week after mint) yeast (tbd point after the series) custard (first winter holidays together)
ASKS:
wearing each other's things, comforting each other, and domestic life for you and Bucky
Bucky takes you to a mysterious masquerade
EXTRAS:
→ Series Playlist
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes#bucky fanfcition#mcu#marvel#marvel fanfiction
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I swear to god I'm on some kind of watch list for what I've been looking up for fanfcition 😭😭
Best torture methods
Easy torture methods
How to torture someone
Torture for dummies
How does brain washing work?
Books on how to brainwash peoppe
Brain washing techniques
Mk ultra
Does Bucky Barnes Is Gay?
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welcome to my blog!! :)
hey my name is jude (yes like the song) and welcome to my blog! this is an 18+ blog so minors please do not interact or you will be blocked. i’m a very big hp and marvel fan (basic i know) so please feel free to send me asks! this blog is a safe space so anyone spreading hate will be blocked
I’m pretty hyper fixated on bucky right now lmao so at the moment a lot of my writing will be about him:)
requests are open!
ao3
fanfiction.net
main blog
marauders blog
fics i like (basically my fic rec blog)
masterlist
marvel characters i write for:
▫bucky barnes
▫steve rogers
▫sam wilson
harry potter characters i write for:
▫remus lupin
▫sirius black
▫james potter
▫nymphadora tonks
▫george weasley
ships<3:
▫stucky
▫sambucky
▫wolfstar
▫flowerpott
I AM comfortable writing: fluff, smut (as long as all characters involved are consenting adults), angst
I am NOT comfortable writing: dubcon, noncon, cnc, yandere, ddlg, omegaverse
Got questions? Don’t be afraid to ask!
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𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐡

challenge: ayesha’s 1k writing challenge by @barnesandco
prompt: 23. “why are you smiling this early in the morning?”
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: in quiet corners and selfish moments, y/n and bucky have kept their relationship a secret, one love that was pure and untouched by the darkness that surrounded them. but after bucky is able to walk the streets a free man once again, will their love be able to survive?
main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
chapter one - december sixteenth, nineteen ninety-one
chapter two - just friends
#buckybarnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#fanfic#fanfcition#fanfiction#bucky fanfic#marvel fanfiction#james buchanan barnes#james barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#Sebastian Stan#Self Insert#sebstan#reader insert#sebastianstan#readerinsert#sebastian x reader#sebastian stan x reader#marvel#bucky barns imagine#mcu#mcu x reader#ayesha1kwritingchallenge
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I was wondering if you also write for bucky because I was thinking about maybe something with him involving number 44?
Choosing little one’s name together.
“I don’t know about James. I never really liked it myself.” Bucky stated while the two of you sat in bed together.
The two of you had just found out that you were having a boy. You had some names as options if it was a boy or a girl, but the one you kept insisting on was James. The same name as your husband.
“I love that name! Even before I met you, I thought it was a good one. Simple, but also nice sounding.” You defended.
“It’ll be confusing whenever you’re calling one of us,”
“I never call you James. You always insist on everyone calling you Bucky.”
“You still call me James when you’re mad at me,” he pointed out.
You let out a frustrated huff, laying down so you were now on your back and looking at the ceiling as you mindlessly stroked your pregnant belly.
“What about his middle name being like another president’s name?” You offered, looking back at Bucky. “Like, ‘James Jackson Barnes?’”
Bucky thought about it, seeming to like the way that sounded. “Could call him Jack for short,”
“I like Jack,” you agreed. “‘Jack Barnes’ sounds pretty badass.”
He looked down at you with a soft chuckle and pressed a small kiss on the top of your bump before gently resting his chin on it.
“Like father, like son,”
#avengers#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#avengers imagine#drabble prompts#mcu fanfiction#fanfcition#marvel imagine#x reader#pregnant!reader#bucky barnes#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#Marvel MCU#marvel endgame#Avengers infinity war#avengers endgame#avengers 4#family#fanfiction#fandom#fanfic#dad!bucky
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Panenka (Little Doll)
Type: One-shot, Reader Insert Word count: 2010
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Reader, Steve Rogers (mentioned)
Summary: After a traumatic experience, you know you have to crawl out of your shell eventually; an Avengers gala to attend with Bucky looks like a perfect opportunity. But healing is a process through which everyone has to go through at their own pace.
Warnings: mentions of a past sexual assault (not graphic), brief but graphic description of violence, angst and fluff, swearing
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A/N: Eh. First time writing Bucky, not sure if it turned out right. But I just heard the song after a long time and it… came to me. The song is Czech and I took the liberty to loosely translate the lyrics. They are incredibly strong to me, but I understand it you don’t want to listen to the song for it is folk/country.
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Co skrýváš za víčky a plameny svíčky, snad houf bílých holubic nebo jen žal? (What is it your eyelids hide behind the candlelight a flock of white doves or nothing but sorrow?)
Tak odplul ten prvý, den zmáčený krví, ani pouťovou panenku nezanechal. (And so floats away the day one a day soaked in blood and didn’t left as much as a little doll from a fair.)
Bucky sees you sitting at the mirror and as hard as he tries… he can’t figure it out. He doesn’t think there are words in any language known to man that would describe how beautiful you are in his eyes.
Your hair is not styled complicatedly, loose strands twirling freely, only few of them half-heartedly pinned to the back of your head; the rest is cascading down your nape and shoulder blades, just like your scarlet-coloured gown cascades down your enticing body. One of your hands – the dominant one – is still in a splint, restraining your movements, but you have put your make-up on with ease as if you have done it thousand times before, applying lipstick now, the last touch to your perfection.
Sometimes, Bucky looks at you and is immensely grateful for breathing being an autonomic function, because he forgets how to do so on his own, air caught in his throat like right now when you stand up straight, casting a glance his direction, catching him staring through the door opened ajar. And you smile; once again, he is reminded how breath-taking you are, even when the smile on your lips doesn’t reach your eyes.
He hasn’t seen a real smile of yours for weeks now and a flare of rage ignites in his chest, quickly put out as you open the door fully, your gaze glued to his face.
Your eyes appear less hollow than the first day they got you back, back from the hellhole where your captors---they—God, Bucky can’t stand even thinking about it, not now, not when you are supposed to attend a gala together. Your first public appearance since your mission going awry, since the intel leak, since your cover being blown, since- stop!
Bucky can’t take his eyes off of you and smiles gingerly, not even hesitating to pay you a compliment despite words never seeming like enough to describe what his mind can barely grasp, a beauty so exquisite he wonders if it was created by angels themselves. A beauty of a body, a magnificence of a soul.
“You’re… stunning. So beautiful, doll,” he whispers, uncertain why he can’t make himself to speak at normal volume; perhaps he’s worried he’d set off another waterfall, tears you have cried for days, ones of regret, sorrow and anger; tears you wished for no one to see, not even him.
Otevři oči, ty uspěchaná, dámo uplakaná. Otevři oči, ta hloupá noc končí, a mír je mezi náma. (Open your eyes, you, always rushing, my lady with a face stained with tears open your eyes; this stupid night is to end and there’s nothing but peace between us.)
There’s a spark of emotion on your face at his words, something real, something Bucky tries to hold onto, swallowing his guilt and ache for later to come out.
Bucky sees you, standing tall, your chin raised in pride, strong and unshakable, ready to face everyone who knew what happened-- and as hard as he tries… he can’t figure it out. He doesn’t think there are words in any language known to man that would describe how brave you are in his eyes.
“Thank you,” you respond in same fashion, beckoning towards the door. “Shall we?”
For the first time, he notices that your lips in fact quiver a little, your smile crooked from how you force it to stay firm. It causes him to hesitate, but he doesn’t yield, doesn’t make the choice for you. As long as you feel ready to walk out and face the vultures of whom at least one will make an inappropriate comment – because of course they will – he will stand by your side. You need to make the decision, pacing your healing by yourself.
He thinks you’re crazy to be honest, crazy to silence the voices no doubt yelling in your head, but that doesn’t diminish his admiration for you, not even a fraction.
Bucky knows what it feels like; he can’t fully comprehend how exactly you feel after what happened, but he can understand to an extent. He knows what it’s like to be violated, what it’s like to be stripped of all dignity and have nothing left but shame and the ever-present urge to rub your own skin clean until it bleeds and washes the past away.
Bucky has never been… violated that way, but God, does it make him furious and does it burn, an all-consuming flame of rage.
And it certainly isn’t because of the lack of intimacy between the two of you as a consequence of what they have done to you, it’s not the idea of someone else touching you, though that would be maddening enough, it’s not even the nights he has been spending on the couch; it’s the fact you shrink in fear from any unexpected touch, it’s the idea of someone putting their hands on you against your will and it’s the nights he’s woken up at your screams loud enough to make your throat raw and sore.
But here you are, reaching for the pumps ready by the door; slipping one on, you struggle with the other-- and then he sees it; the tremble in your hands, the tear glistening in the corner of your eye.
You cry out in frustration when you have to steady yourself against the wall and his heart breaks. He’s a step from you in an instant; ready to support you, ready to-- to do anything to be honest. Anything to ease the burden laid on you.
Dropping the shoe with a huff and losing the other too, you hide your face in your hands, your palms doing nothing to muffle your choked sob and Bucky’s hands ball in fists.
Images of blood, screams and pathetic begging fill his mind and all he can think of is that he didn’t punch hard enough, didn’t break nearly enough bones, didn’t take enough time to cut the bastards open, to make them suffer so they wanted to slit their own throats only to end the misery he brought upon them-- had they been still able to hold a knife in their shattered fingers. He didn’t put them through nearly enough pain to make up for yours.
Your erratic breathing snaps him from his dark daydream, just in time to witness your knees buckle, your legs on the verge of failing you.
He’s reaching out before he realizes what he’s doing and stops himself hovering an inch from your skin.
“I’m… I’m going to touch you, alright?” he says, a warning and an offer and the tinniest hint of a nod is all he needs before he’s curling a gentle hand around your forearm.
To his utter shock, you spin on your heels and bury your face in his chest, clinging to him for the first time in weeks.
Bucky isn’t certain whether his heart cracks or melts.
He feels you, a shivering sobbing mess in his arms, and as hard as he tries… he can’t figure it out. He doesn’t think there are words in any language known to man that would describe how strong you are in his eyes despite drenching his suit jacket in tears.
Už si oblékni šaty, i řetízek zlatý, a umyj se půjdeme na karneval. (Go on, dress up at last wear a necklace of gold and clean up real nicely; we’re to attend a ball.)
A na bílou kůži, ti napíšu tuží, že dámou jsi byla a zůstáváš dál. (And on your snow-white skin in ink I will write that you’ve been a lady and remain one still.)
His lips brush your hair and another sob – more of a hick-up maybe – escapes your lips pressed together, and you shake your head, pushing with your hands against his chest and he lets you even if you use barely any force.
He hates it; he hates seeing you like this, he hates the whole fucking world for hurting you and he hates himself for being so fucking useless.
You wipe away the tears and grit your teeth, reaching for your pumps once more and slip into both of them with ease this time, despite your feet quivering in them, despite your whole body shaking.
“We gotta go, come on-“
“Doll,” he addresses you, trying so damn hard to sound gentle when all he wants is to scream, not because he’s angry with you, with your stubbornness, but because- because— GODDAMMIT! “Doll, we don’t-“
“I promised I’d go. I have to go-”
Throwing caution to the wind when you actually reach for the handle, legs unsteady like a Bambi trying to stand up for the first time, he curls his fingers around yours and pulls you away from the door.
“What the-“
“You don’t have to do anything. Okay? No obligation. If you want to go, I’ll follow, always, but I-“
“I do want to go!” you snap, possibly aiming for a firm voice and missing my miles as it comes out like a whimper instead. “I just need to do something normal, I need to show them that I’m fine—I- I promised Steve a dance-“
A wet chuckle escapes Bucky despite his inner turmoil, despite his insides twisting in rage and pain; of course you promised that punk a dance. You’d do anything for his pretty eyes, you always say that and then you proceed to kiss Bucky, because he gets all growly in mock jealousy-
You’re shaking your head, new tears rolling down and ruining your perfect make-up and Bucky doesn’t know what to do but to embrace you again, a loose cage you could easily escape should you want to. But you only curl up against him, arms winding around his waist and he sighs, trying and possibly failing at pouring all of his love into one single hug.
“-I just want normal. I want to dance. I- I-“
A smile spreads on Bucky’s lips as your voice turns less desperate and more resigned, longing, wistful even. You were not going anywhere tonight, that was for certain, and that was alright. He would tell Friday to let the others know, all in the good time.
He caresses the length of your hair, his flesh hand cupping your cheek and sliding two fingers under your chin, carefully guiding you to look up at his face. Even with your mascara and eyeliner smeared, black paths from your tears running down your cheeks, you take his breath away.
“You wanna dance, doll?” he asks, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips and you shake your head with a bitter chuckle, probably at the image of the two of you, a mess made in heaven, showing up at the party. “We can dance.”
Otevři oči, ty uspěchaná, dámo uplakaná. Otevři oči, ta hloupá noc končí, a mír je mezi náma. (Open your eyes, you, always rushing, my lady with a face stained with tears open your eyes; this stupid night is to end and there’s nothing but peace between us.)
“Yeah…?”
You look at him and he swears his heart stops for a moment. Why does his chest always feel so tight when your eyes lock with his, hopeful, kind and vulnerable?
“Yeah,” he confirms softly. “You can save Steve his dance for another time. It’s just you and me tonight.”
Realization, tender and grateful, shines from your eyes and for the first time in weeks, Bucky believes that what he sees is a hint of happiness, the first ray of hope that you are on your way to recovery and he actually contributes to it. He readjusts his hold on you so you could sway at least and there’s an honest curve to your lips; this time, he’s certain his heart melts and his chest swells with pride and hope that he is worthy of you.
Bucky feels you, content in his arms if only for a moment and as hard as he tries… he can’t figure it out. He doesn’t think there are words in any language known to man that would describe how precious you are in his eyes.
Words that would describe how much he loves you.
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Marvel masterlist
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Thank you very much for reading! (Feedback always appreciated.)
#marvel#fanfcition#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#winter soldier x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#captain america fanfiction#avenegrs fanfiction#captain america#avengers#reader insert#marvel imagine#songfic#sort-of#panenka#little doll#anika ann
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Here Stucky bitches. Have a fact.
https://gargiulos.com/.
Ok. So your writing a Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes fanfic and you want a really fancy schmancy place for them to eat, right? Maybe its an anniversary. Maybe you want one of them to propose. Its gotta be *nice*. Full of history and charm, meaningful to both.
Well you're in luck. I did the research so you don't have to.
"Gargiulos"
It's a restaurant right off the boardwalk of Coney Island. It was established in 1907, 10 years before Steve Rogers was born. Throughout its history, it has been well-known as an Italian gourmet restaurant with a gilded ballroom. This is absolutely the kind of place young Steve and Bucky would have passed on the way to or from the fairgrounds and stared longingly through the window. Or maybe even worked as a busboy or kitchen help. You can guarantee that Bucky promised Steve to take him there one day.
And best of all, Its Still Open!!
This is a link to their current menu. https://gargiulos.com/restaurant-dining/menu/
This is what it looked like when it opened:
Heres what it looks like now:
This is your go-to place. It's real. It's one they would know about, and it's still a beautiful place to go out to eat at.
#stucky#Steve Rogers#Bucky Barnes#history#fanfcition#1930s facts#1920s facts#shipping info#fanfic aids#help a writer out#fanfic#stucky shipping#writing#captain america#winter soldier
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Milkshakes (Bucky Barnes x Reader) CAFÉ AU
Notes: okay but busboy! Bucky makes me want to drown thank you very much. To the person who commented that I should do a Bucky fic, thanks lol, I hope I did okay, this is my first Bucky fic *cue gasp*
Warnings: angst if you squint, insecure! Bucky, oh no! a few bucks in the swear jar, SHITTY WRITING LET’S GO
Words: 4.0k
Summary: The evolution of Bucky’s relationship with you over time.
You come into this café Bucky works in every day. It’s only now that Bucky’s worked up the courage to take your order. (The Avengers working in a café, that should be enough for you to read this.)
WE LOVE A GOOD STRANGERS TO BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS TROPE
Bucky clocks into Sugar & Spice, the café he’s been working at since he had started high school with his best friend and roommate Steve, every morning at 7:45, since they open at 8. Well, he’s really supposed to clock in at 7:30, but he can’t be bothered to wake up that early. So, when he comes in, all the staff are already getting ready for the day.
Normally Clint and Thor are together doing something stupid, (Bucky doesn’t know how they’re not fired yet), whilst Steve frantically tries to fix whatever the hell they inevitably broke. (This morning, it was a kettle the staff uses to make tea.) Natasha is always calmly wiping down the counters, and it’s all accompanied by Tony screaming at them to do work with shitty café music playing, as Sam and Wanda sings terribly from the kitchen while cooking up their breakfast menu of the day.
Even though he’d never admit it, Bucky loves this place and the dim yellow lighting everyone’s always complaining about. He takes a deep breath and smells the mixture of everyone’s morning coffee, Tony’s obnoxious cologne, and Sam’s infamous breakfast pancakes everyone came to the café for, and he smiles. He’s home, after all.
That smile lasts for about three seconds before Bruce yells something about Bucky being late. So, he claps Steve on the back, hastily ties his apron on, and whizzes around the room, setting cutlery and jugs of water down, getting ready for the breakfast regulars.
Every day at the café is pretty much the same. Everyone universally refers it as ‘The Cafe’, since everybody knows that Sugar & Spice is a dumb name. The morning goes by rather quickly, it’s his turn to deal with annoying customers every other day, pretty much all the same people come around, and the part-timers, Peter and Shuri, comes at around 3, by the time school ends for them.
So Bucky knows exactly what he’s doing on the dot. By 8:30, the café is pretty much packed with early risers. Pepper, Tony’s wife, drops in for a break from her morning jog to say hi, and sometimes she’ll have a coffee, but she’s always out by 9. Stephen Strange and T’Challa are both morning regulars, and Bucky knows their order by heart, and he always has them ready before they even get to the café. They’re both lame as fuck anyway, getting black coffee, a plain croissant and reading the papers every morning.
Why you would have a croissant without chocolate, Bucky will never understand.
Around 10-ish, the people who drank too much last night will usually come in for Nat’s hangover cure in a cup. Except nobody really asks what’s in it, because nobody really wants to know. Bucky tries to ignore the fact that this café attracts a ton of alcoholics. Usually Peter Quill comes around now, more often than not because he got too drunk last night, and Thor always takes his order. (Just to spite him, since Peter clearly hates Thor for being perfect.)
The rest of the day goes by really fast too, and before he knows it, Bucky’s saying his goodbyes at around 9pm, with Steve, and they both go home on their bikes.
The only thing Bucky’s never sure about is you. You’ve been coming to the café for maybe around half a year now, sometimes just for a drink, a coffee in the morning. Sometimes you’ll drop by during lunch, grabbing a sandwich and running out quickly. Bucky doesn’t know why you leave so soon during lunch. Probably work. Sometimes you’ll drop by after a long day and you’ll have a drink with Nat. You don’t come with friends very often, but sometimes you do, bringing them along for dinner, usually.
In the winter, you’ll come in shivering, bundled up in massive coats and scarves, and getting a hot chocolate. Every time that happens, Bucky physically swoons.
No matter what, you always take a seat at the bar with the high chairs that are almost annoyingly too squeaky that everyone complains about, even though no one actually can be bothered to fix it. You’ll laugh with Nat, as she’s usually at the bar, preparing drinks, and Steve will often take your order. To be quite honest, Bucky pretty much knows nothing about you, but here are the things he does know.
He knows your name is Y/N, since apparently, everyone else is pretty close with you. Guess that’s what happens when you come into a place daily for two years. He knows all your usual orders by heart, even though he’s never the one to take your order, since he’ll force Steve to do it every time. He knows you’re funny, sweet, kind and charming.
He also knows that looking at you makes him act like he’s a fucking sixteen-year-old on prom night and he hates it. Whatever happened to the charming, sweet, womanizer Bucky Barnes? Down the fucking drain, that’s for sure. For two years, he’s tried to approach you and talk to you. And for two years, Steve has called him a coward. Bucky doesn’t know what washes over him when he sees you. He’s normally great with the ladies, if he does say so himself.
But every time you come into the café, whether it be in the morning, afternoon, or night, his heart jumps and his mouth freezes and he can’t do anything but stare at you as all the other staff members greet you with a smile.
He hates it so much.
So, this morning, when he clocks in, and doesn’t hear his stupid friends freaking out as usual, he knows something’s up. Everyone grins at him like they know something he doesn’t and Bucky has to touch his forehead, wondering if they drew something on his face without him knowing again.
“What is it?” He asks, looking at everyone suspiciously.
“Guys, what did you do? I swear, if I go over to my apron to find that Tony drew dicks all over it, I will kill all of you in your sleep.” It’s kind of sad how no one reacted to what he said. Bucky decides that he probably threatens people too much.
Everyone smiles at him again, going back to work, and in two seconds, the whole café is back to normal, topping it off with Sam screaming his horrible rendition of Marvin Gaye in the kitchen.
They clearly had been talking about him before he came into the café. Boy, Bucky was really regretting sleeping in now. He marched over to Steve, and hissed in his ear.
“What the fuck is going on? If this is a stupid prank I swear to God, Steve--”
Steve smiles weirdly, and he sighs, saying, “Go back to work, Buck, you’re imagining things.” Steve is almost too much of a good person, and how bad he is at lying makes Bucky wince, because it’s way too obvious that he’s not telling the truth. The bead of sweat trailing down from his temple gives it all away.
So Bucky sighs, deciding to torture the information out of his friends later, and get to work. Everything seems to be in order, and he almost forgets the events of that morning, all up until three o’ clock, when Shuri and Peter come in, and even they seem odd. Peter’s maniacally grinning about twice as much as he normally does, which is alarming, because nobody ever knew that lips had the capability to even stretch that far.
At five forty-five, there’s a slight ring from the door that Bucky doesn’t notice. Everyone else does, though. Clint almost pushes Bucky to the front cashier, and yells out some sort of excuse that Bucky can’t hear and Clint speeds off into the kitchen. Steve runs to the staff bathroom, yelling something about really needing to go, and Nat almost flings the wet towel she was using onto the counter with the high chairs, and yells to Bucky that she needs a drink, and asks him whether he would clean up while she was gone.
Begrudgingly, he agrees and extremely confused, he turns around to see which customer he had to seat only to see you standing there, bundled up in a scarf with a soft smile on your face.
Oh, those fuckers.
Swallowing his fear, Bucky attempted to speak up, you know, bring on the usual Barnes charm, but he probably looked more like a frog, opening his mouth like he was gaping.
“Are you alright?” You asked, seemingly worried, because of course you are, Bucky thinks, how fucking adorable.
“I don’t think I’ve spoken to you before, but I’m a regular here.” You smile, and introduce yourself. “I’m Y/N.” You peeked at his nametag, and smiled, holding out your hand.
“Hi, James.”
“Bucky.” He flashes a smile, hoping he doesn’t look as terrified as he is on the inside. “Call me Bucky, doll.” He reaches out and grabs your hand and almost melts. Damnit, how gorgeous. Yeah, that confidence didn’t last very long when you moved forward and sat at your usual spot, and Bucky tripped over his own feet following you.
Shuri throws a towel at his face and gestures to the counter you were sitting at.
‘Clean.’ She mouths, and Bucky’s so very tempted to throw it back to her, but he stalks over to your chair and starts to wipe the countertop, awkwardly averting his eyes from you and the counter, thinking of all the ways he could kill his co-workers after this.
“Are you new?” You ask, completely oblivious to how weird the Café was today. Bucky noticed though, and he glared at all his friends, who were hiding behind the kitchen door, spying on them.
Bucky suddenly realized why Steve wanted to watch The Parent Trap yesterday night.
“No, I’m not. I guess we’ve just never met before.” Bucky’s heart stops when you smile at him, and his body releases tension that he didn’t know he was holding in his muscles. Deep breaths, Buck. He thought to himself.
He flashes a sharp smile at you as you look up from the menu.
“Yeah, Probably. Nat or Steve usually takes my order, but I thought I knew everyone who worked here. You do seem familiar, though.”
“Yeah,” Bucky says, with a nervous look on his face. “You seem familiar too.” He can almost hear the entire staff face-palming behind him, but he desperately attempts to ignore them.
“What milkshake flavors are there? I’ve been coming here so long, for some reason I’ve never sat down and had a milkshake.” It takes Bucky a full five seconds for him to tear his eyes from your face and realize you had asked him a question.
“Chocolate, vanilla, caramel and strawberry.”
You groan, pouting a little bit, and Bucky can’t decide whether his heart just broke because of you showing any sign of sadness or just how goddamn adorable you were.
“I can’t decide,” You say, still pouting. Bucky’s about to suggest Vanilla, since that’s his personal favorite, but you speak up again. “Is there any possible way you can just take all the milkshake flavors and put it in one cup with a straw?”
Bucky breaks out a smile. He knew there was a reason he liked you so much.
“Sure, doll. Is that it?” You nod, smiling at him. That smile. Bucky spent a minute behind the kitchen doors with a goofy smile on his face until Natasha slapped him and told him to get his shit together.
“I guess we’ve just never met before” Tony says mockingly, popping out of nowhere and laughing his ass off. Sam shoots him a toothy grin.
“Oh, yeah, doll. There’s that infamous Barnes charm, huh?”
If Sam Wilson and Tony Stark ended up dead the next morning, Bucky definitely didn’t have anything to do with it. Peter Parker, a ‘literal angel child’ according to Tony, says something sweet about how you seemed really into him, but Bucky pays no attention to him. He’s more focused on how he’s so whipped for this girl he doesn’t even know, that a fucking fifteen-year-old is expressing sympathy towards him.
He sighs, scooping a small scoop of every single ice cream the café had and dropping it in a blender. Maybe tomorrow he’d be less awkward.
He didn’t get more comfortable the next day. Bucky actually somehow managed to trip over your shoes when you came in for lunch, and landed on Steve, also effectively covering himself in the spaghetti Steve was holding, all while Clint and Thor laughs their asses off about it as he’s wiping spaghetti away from his eyes.
You giggle, but only for a second, as you help him up and pluck away a few pieces of spaghetti in his hair that was sticking out.
“You’ve never looked better.” You tease, a playful smile gracing your lips.
Bucky decides that being covered in spaghetti wasn’t the absolute worst thing after all. Well, until he finds out Tony filmed the whole thing and posted it on YouTube where it already accumulated over three thousand views before Bucky persuaded (read: forced) Tony to take it down.
Bucky does, however, get more comfortable around you over time. The week after the spaghetti incident, he cracks some joke about Nat that he can’t even remember anymore. The only thing he remembered was how damn melodic your laugh sounded. Were those stars in your eyes?
Jesus Christ, he was whipped. The entire café watched every single day as Bucky scrambled to take your order with that goofy smile on his face. You both exchange numbers after you complained that you only got to see him when you were at the café, and ever since, Bucky checks his phone periodically every 10 minutes, just in case you send something he doesn’t want to miss.
You start traditions like every other Friday was a movie night, and every Tuesday was a takeout board game night. You slowly wormed your way into his life and Bucky would be a liar if he said he didn’t love it.
“Bucky!” You squeal as he throws the leftover popcorn kernels from the bowl at you.
“You asshole! I’m going to have to vacuum this later!” The long forgotten movie about a superhero named Eagle or something was playing in the background, but Bucky had already stopped paying attention to that a while ago.
Watching you watch a movie was quite possible the most entertaining thing Bucky’s ever seen. Sometimes you would get so entranced, you’d shove popcorn in your mouth and miss, leaving some popcorn bits on your nose and the rest falling in your lap.
Bucky smiles, and he doesn’t know it, but this was the start of your forever.
“Oh my god,” Steve says in-between laughs and his seventh beer one night at some random bar they stumbled into.
“You’re falling deep, Buck.” Even drunk Bucky, who had already consumed God knows how many cans of beer, tried to deny it.
“Of course not!” He says, but Bucky has a sinking feeling in his gut and he can’t decide whether that’s a good or bad thing.
He misses Steve and Nat exchanging knowing looks every time you come to sit down for another every-flavor milkshake. Over the span of the next half-year or so, you and Bucky chatting whilst you sipped on a colourful milkshake underneath the dim lighting became a regular in the café.
Bucky remembers almost everything about your relationship. He was introduced to you as a stuttering mess and slowly became your best friend who crashed many nights at your apartment when Steve started dating Peggy. He calls you things like doll, or baby, or sweetheart, attempting to act like that’s normal for best friends to do, even though he knows damn well it’s weird. Sometimes he looks in your eyes, and he knows you feel the same feeling in your gut when you stare at him. He’s sure of it. But every time Bucky opens his mouth to say something, he freezes.
More often than not, some old lady would stop you in the streets, crooning about what a lovely couple you both were, and Bucky knows it’s definitely not normal for best friends to be acting like a couple.
No matter how many times his friends urge him to ask her out, he always hesitates. The words ‘She doesn’t feel the same’ and ‘Just best friends’ would usually come out of his mouth. But in the end, Bucky’s just a coward. Whenever he tries to be the confident, normal guy around you something goes wrong.
Because you make him feel like a person, and he’s so afraid of asking you out and ruining everything he’d rather than tear his own heart apart, so it doesn’t get broken by you. ‘She’s happier like this’, Bucky would think. But he’s not happy, and doesn’t he deserve to be happy too?
Bucky doesn’t know why he’s always so willing to put himself in pain. He tries to ask you out almost fifty times before he just didn’t bother counting anymore. It’s not that he doesn’t like your friendship, this is possibly one of the happiest times in his life. And at the same time, he’s miserable.
“Hey, doll?” He says, coming into your apartment with the spare key that you leant him.
“Hello? Hey, if you’re in the bathroom, can I crash here for the night? I don’t even want to know what Steve and Peggy are up to in our apartment right now.” Bucky gets no answer, and he’s confused. It’s Wednesday night. Where could you possibly be? He sends you a quick text and he hears a slight ding coming from your dining room table. Your phone sits there, his text illuminating the screen. Wherever you went, you didn’t bring your phone with you. Bucky had a bad feeling.
He’s about to have a breakdown when you come into the apartment, clearly puzzled.
“Buck? Why are you here?” You say, your arms together holding a large package.
“Oh, thank God. I came to stay the night, but you weren’t here, and you left your phone, I thought something must’ve happen- ” He stopped, noticing something.
“Y/N? What’s that?” He asked, pointing to the large, colourful flowers wrapped up in your arms.
‘Oh!’ You say, seemingly glad that he asked.
“Ryan from the next door gave me these. Aren’t they gorgeous? He’s a nice guy.” You say, humming about as you fished an old vase from the bottom of your sink.
“That’s why I left my phone here. I just went over to pick these flowers up. You really shouldn’t worry so much, Buck. One of these days you’ll get a heart attack.” You’re softly singing as you fluff out the flowers and place them into the vase that’s filled with water.
“Perfect.” You murmur, then you turned to him, throwing the TV remote and a pack of microwaveable popcorn at him.
“Come on, old man., We’re going to watch Inception. I still can’t believe you haven’t watched it. It even won an Oscar for something I can’t remember.” Bucky stays behind in the kitchen for a bit, clutching at the bag of popcorn that was threatening to pop in his tense grip. He had a terrible feeling sinking deep in his chest as he looked at the flowers that you set on your kitchen countertop.
“You don’t even like dahlias.” Bucky says, plopping down onto the sofa, hands full of popcorn. You frown, reaching out and grabbing a handful and stuffing it in your moth before saying,
“Yeah, but it’s still sweet, isn’t it? Besides, how the fuck you know so much about flowers? Didn’t even know they were dahlias, I just remember telling you I don’t like the look of those big, poofy flowers.”
“Yeah, but dahlias aren’t romantic. He should have gotten you roses, or beautiful lilies, or-” Bucky caught sight of your weirded-out look and thought he’d better shut up before you found out he liked spending time in a flower shop during middle school.
“Whatever. Never mind” He grumbled instead, ignoring the confused look on your face, and pressed play, beginning to watch what apparently was ‘Leonardo DiCaprio’s third best movie’ Obviously behind Titanic and Wolf of Wall Street.
That terrible feeling remained in his chest.
It’s 8:00 PM and Bucky’s about to clock out, he hangs up his apron, about to close up when you come over running, and for a moment he’s absolutely stunned you exercised willingly.
“Are you guys closing up already?” You say, panting. Bucky wonders whether you ran all the way from your office to the café.
“Ugh. My day went terribly. Can we go inside so I can rant? Actually, I’ll just tell you on the way to your apartment.” You’re rambling, and you look so cute bundled up in all your coats, facing the bitter Brooklyn cold. Bucky stares at you and he swears he fell in love in that moment. What was so special about it, he didn’t know. Looking at you, wrapped up in all your layers. You breathed out, smoke coming out from your lips from December’s freezing temperatures. You ran all the way from work, to tell him about the bad day you had, Bucky liked that he was the person you went to.
“God, my lunch date was terrible, you were right, Ryan is a douche and I hate dahlias. I detest them. You were completely right, lunch dates are awful, and he’s a terrible person. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen, remind me to always do that. My boss was in a horrible mood and he must have-“
Bucky steps towards you, and cuts you off, by placing his lips on yours. He can tell you’re taken back, but he’s so angry at himself for not doing this sooner, because kissing you must be the best thing he’s ever done in his entire life. Your hands are stopped midway, about to stop this madness, but then your frozen lips begin to melt and turn warm against Bucky’s.
And before you know it, your hands are slowly sliding up to his hair, tangling your hands into his hair and his arms are wrapped around your waist. He kisses you passionately, none of you even seem to realise you’re in the middle of the street. Bucky was making out with you in the middle of Brooklyn, and he doesn’t give two shits about who was watching them. The end of the world could happen right now and he’d continue kissing you like his life depended on it. He feels you smiling into your kiss, and he feels downright giddy. You almost push against him, almost as if you’re making up for lost time.
You bring your hands down and push his chest away, still processing what just happened. Bucky runs his thumb over your lip, and for a second he’s feels scared. Why did you push him away? Oh, shit, was I not supposed to do that? You smile, leaning into his touch and relief flushes into Bucky. You speak, so quiet Bucky barely hears you and your voice is hoarse.
“Took you long enough, huh?” Your hand is placed on his cheek, and your hands are so cold Bucky’s surprised you haven’t gotten frostbite yet, but he doesn’t care. Bucky blinks, feeling something land on his head, and he laughs as he spots the small flecks of white landing on the ground.
“As if this couldn’t get any more cliché,” He muses, whispering into your ear. “It’s snowing, doll, look.” You tear away from his body but he keeps one arm pressed against your waist as you walk home to your apartment. Boy, was Steve going to get a surprise when he woke up the next morning.
#marvel#marvel fic#marvel fanfiction#marvel au#marvel fanfic#mcu fanfcition#mcu#the winter soldier#The Falcon and the Winter Soldier#bucky barnes#sam wilson#falcon#falcon au#falcon fanfiction#steve#bucky barnes x reader#avengers#avengers fanfiction#avengers x reader#avengers fic#avengers fanfic#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#sam wilson fanfiction#bucky barnes hcs#bucky barnes headcanon#bucky barnes hc#steve rogers x reader
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Promises
AN: reposting because tungle.hell is a little bitch that messed up the read more link on this and doesn’t deserve rights.
Words: <1.5k
Relationships: Family fluff, Pepperony, mentions of Peter’s crush on Harley
Prompt: “Every month everyone has a get together at the pepperony cabin and they have dinner together. Happy grills cheeseburgers for the kids (Morgan, Clint’s boys, Peter, Lila, Cassie, Harley) and they play outside until it gets dark, the older kids giving the younger ones piggy back rides and everyone eating juice pops. Steve is inside, bantering with Bucky and Sam, like the old times. Pepper wishes Tony would be here to see it all.”
—-
It was tradition, at this point, for everyone to meet up in Pepper’s old cabin (she had since moved to New York) on the first Sunday of each month.
It had begun with a miscommunication. Steve had texted Bruce that he’d be visiting Pepper to check on her and Morgan, on that fateful day a little over a year ago. Somehow, Bruce had interpreted that as “Gather the whole gang, we’re gonna collectively show up at Pepper’s cabin with 35 assorted presents.”
It was a little odd the first time round, what with Bruce apologizing profusely for goofing up, and the cabin being too small to hold everyone while also allowing them some personal space. But she’d decided she liked having them all around. Might as well do it again.
14 months and 14 barbecue meet ups later, everyone looked forward to driving out there for a nice evening of grilled food and banter. And the occasional explosion. To be fair, when you throw two brilliant, reckless, science-loving teenagers and an equally brilliant, reckless, science-loving little girl together, explosions can (and will) occur.
Which is why Happy was very loudly arguing with Harley over using his “new and improved” grill rather than the usual one from Happy’s garage, which was decidedly safer and less daunting to use. To top it off, the damn thing was shaped like a nuke.
Elsewhere, the younger kids were having their own argument, except theirs had a little less to do with barbecue grills.
“Morgan,” Pepper called out, noticing the commotion, “it’s Cooper’s turn now, sweetheart.”
“But mom-”
“Give it to him.”
“Just a minute!”
“Morgan.”
The 6 year old turned around, gave her mom the most heart-achingly adorable pout, and begrudgingly handed her brand new nerf gun to the older boy (a very well received gift from May). They’d been going at it all evening, shooting empty soda cans off rocks, tree branches, and at one point, Peter’s head.
Steve smiled, watching Barton’s kid shoot a can off Harley’s bike from 10 meters away. And then immediately panicking after realizing the can was actually full. And probably belonged to Harley.
“Kid’s good with a gun, Clint,” Steve noted.
“Scared he won’t take after his dad?”
The glare he received from the arrow enthusiast was borderline terrifying.
“We’ve just got killer aim, Rogers, it ain’t about the weapon. Hand me a gun, stand across the lake, and I’ll show you.”
Pepper laughed, throwing Clint a grape flavored juice pop (his favorite kind).
“Nobody’s murdering anybody in my house, alright?”
Just before Clint could catch his dessert, though, a web shot out from behind the couch and snatched the sugar infused stick of ice right out of mid air. The web then proceeded to disappear as quickly as it came.
“Well, actually, Pepper,” said a youthful voice, no doubt belonging to the pop thief,
“the murder would happen outside the house, so technically-”
“Peter Benjamin Parker, you give that back right now or you’re grounded for a month.”
Peter winced. Busted.
“He can get himself another one, May!” He tried (in vain).
“There’s a whole freezer full of em right outside-”
“Peter.”
May raised her eyebrow at him. Ah, there it was. The look of devastating disapproval. A look nobody could stand to receive, let alone Peter “I cried watching Big Hero 6″ Parker.
“Alright, alright.” He sighed, back flipping over the armrest; a completely extravagant and unnecessary move that was only carried out in case Harley was watching. Peter had been trying his absolute best to get Harley’s attention off late. He told May that it was because he wanted to prove that “he’s the alpha” (May thought her disaster of a son simply wanted to impress his crush. She was right).
20 lazy footsteps and an annoyed huff later, the juice pop was slid across the kitchen counter, right into Clint’s open hand.
When it was, regrettably, immediately snatched away by Lila.
Clint blinked. “Can’t catch a damn break, can I?”
Laura laughed, planting a reassuring kiss on her husband’s cheek. She’d learned over the past year that Clint had turned to vigilante justice to deal with his feelings of anger and helplessness. She couldn’t have him hunting down members of the Ukrainian mafia over popsicles.
“Calm down, drama queen, I’m sure there’s more in the ice box-”
“WHO TOOK ALL THE DAMN GRAPE JUICE POPS?” Captain America yelled from outside. A sound that was immediately followed by a very ungraceful pterodactyl-like screech, and Clint putting his head in his hands.
“…or maybe not.” She winced.
That was the exact moment Bucky took to walk down the stairs. a sticky purple mess gracing his face. He stopped abruptly when he noticed everyone’s eyes were on him, and just this once, he was sure it wasn’t because they were admiring his beauty.
His eyes darted around the room, making note of Clint’s deep resignation, Pepper’s terrible poker face, May’s grimace, and Steve nearly falling off his chair in sheer amusement.
He wasn’t fully sure how to proceed.
“Uh…”
He looked around the room again, hoping it would give him answers.
It didn’t.
“…what’s up?”
Steve actually did fall over at this point, prompting Peter to scream something about senior citizen needing help, followed by Cassie dialing 911 on Morgan’s old toy telephone. Neither of which helped him make sense of what was going on. Although, he had to admit, it was a little funny.
Bucky’s question, however, was answered when Sam entered the kitchen with the force of a very disgruntled wildebeest. He looked around wildly, until his eyes fell on Bucky and his incredibly purple grin.
“You,” Sam glowered.
“Me,” Bucky replied sweetly, slowly wiping the purple dye off his mouth with his sleeve. Which, of course, only served to drive Sam further up the wall.
“YOU DON’T EVEN LIKE GRAPE!”
“True, true.” Bucky shrugged.
“I do love pissing you off, though.”
What followed after was Sam chasing Bucky out into the woods, brandishing his shield and yelling something about how “this shield ain’t only for defending, I’ll star spangle whoop your ass you dick, come back here.”
Clint followed a minute later, on a quest to avenge his stolen popsicle
(This was after they were pointedly told by Pepper to take their battle outside, they’d lost enough vases over the year to the kids’ antics as it were).
Steve eventually found the strength to get back on his chair, and throw an apple in Harley’s general direction. Which was warranted, because the kid kept yelling “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” in this ridiculous (and frankly, offensive) “old man voice” while Steve did, in fact, struggle to get up.
He briefly wondered how pleased Tony would be to see Captain Perfect struggling with real, human issues, like achy joints and a sore back. Almost as if she’d read his mind, Pepper voiced his thoughts.
“Tony would’ve loved to see you dealing with elderly-man problems, you know.” She laughed. “The number of times he’d complain that ‘Steve goddamn Rogers’ doesn’t suffer from a single grey hair even at the age of 100, while he did even though he was only 50.”
She made air quotes around the “only.”
“Took a lot of convincing for him to let it grow out, you know, instead of hiding it behind dye after dye,” she rolled her eyes, “he looked at me like I’d told him to give Morgan up for adoption.”
Steve laughed softly. “A herculean effort, I’m sure.”
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.”
Pepper remembered that conversation clear as day, like it had happened just days ago. Partly because she’d never had to convince someone who was once labelled “Sexiest Man Alive” by Times magazine that he would still be attractive with grey hair, until that strange, strange day, and partly because the method of convincing she’d opted for was… unusual, a little unexpected. But not unwelcome, for sure
(He’d told her as much the next morning, wearing a stupidly lopsided grin, but no shirt)
Washing the dye off her fingers had been a pain in the ass though. She couldn’t believe he’d actually agreed to letting her color his hair grey. Morgan had shrieked seeing her daddy with “weird hair” (her words), which was not good for the case Pepper was making. But she had eventually warmed up to the new look. She even told Tony he looked nice, of her own accord. After which Pepper had walked in on Tony hugging his daughter and her struggling to get out of the death grip he had on her.
Pepper was snapped out of her reverie when Steve spoke up again.
“Who’s to say he isn’t seeing it, though?”
Pepper blinked. She wasn’t one to space out often, but when she did, she was disturbingly thorough.
“Sorry?”
“Tony, watching us,” Steve took a deep breath, “laughing at me struggling with weak hipbones, watching over you, Morgan, Peter…” He looked down at his mug of coffee, that had long since gone empty
“You never know.”
Pepper couldn’t quite place the look on his face just then. Somewhere between sad and hopeful, she supposed.
“You never know,” she repeated under her breath, more to herself than to him.
Steve heard it anyway, and smiled softly at her, before turning to look at the picture Pepper had framed on the living room wall. A picture of her, Tony, and Morgan, taken at the beach. Morgan was on his shoulders, maybe 3, 4 years old then. His right arm was wrapped around Pepper’s shoulder, her left arm around his waist. All three wore contented smiles, Tony’s and Morgan’s achingly similar.
No Iron Man, no arc reactor, no intense, murderous stare, like the hundreds of pictures that had graced every magazine in existence, for a month after his death.
Just plain, good old Tony Stark. The part of him he kept hidden from the world, reserved only for the people he loved.
It was the only picture that did him justice, Steve thought.
“I wish he could see you now, Pepper,” he turned back to her, half his mouth upturned in a small smile, “see how well his two favorite girls are doing.”
Pepper chuckled, gently placing her hand on Steve’s.
“Oh, he knows,” she nodded, twirling the ring that still adorned her finger.
“I promised him we’d be fine.”
xxxxx
my adhd ass jumping from prompt to prompt: parkour
anyway, thanks for reading <3 comments are, as always, my lifeblood.
#i hate this website#endgame spoilers#marvel#endgame#avengers endgame#tony stark#pepper potts#pepperony#steve rogers#peter parker#morgan stark#bucky barnes#sam wilson#marvel fanfcition#mcu#sam attempts writing
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Anyone have anymore bucky fic drabble requests? I’ll write ANYTHING. This quarantine is giving me more than enough time.
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Cleared for Duty - Chapter 2
Have you read chapter one?
Chap Summary: Bucky lets his temper get the better of him and things go too far in the final assessment. Dr Edwards has been holding out on the team, hiding skills that would rival Black Widow behind a pristine white lab coat.After they face off, Bucky is forced to assess himself and he’s not too happy about a realisation lurking in his subconscious.
Warnings: Continued violence, self-hatred, anguish, and language from the first chapter.
A/N: I know Edwards’ skills are extreme but I wanted to play her as a bit of a wild card and possibly throw her in a mission with Bucky later in the series. I envisioned her fighting style to be a hybrid between X-Men Mystique and Black Panther.

The Beatdown
The Doc was quick, I’ll give her that. The basic blocks were effortless for her, even when I pushed her on the strength aspect, she adapted the blocks adding twists and flicks to her movement so she was more carrying the momentum away rather than stopping it. Her motions were smooth, fluid – like water, and she was graceful. All this I noticed at the back of my mind because I was solely focused on my own movements.
The more advanced blocks had her switching her stances almost as if she was dancing, shifting her centre of gravity as needed. She was flawless and it infuriated me.
Overstepping my own balance gave her an opportunity to parry from a block where she deflected the metal arm across my body so easily it was like I was a child. She dug me sharply in the ribs just under the join between my own flesh and the arm. Of course she knew my weak points, she knew everything about me and the infernal contraption I relied upon to do my job.
I hissed at the pain that bloomed under the skin, and she smirked.
The assessment requirements didn’t state that candidates should strike if they could during the first phase but it didn’t say they couldn’t. Maybe she was showing off, maybe she did it to unnerve me. If that was the case, it worked, not that I needed any pushing down that path – ever since we met she always seemed to have me on the back foot.
We paced, breathing a little too heavily from our exertions. I’d gone harder on Edwards than any of the others. I guess maybe that’s what Steve had been worried about when he tried to switch her with Maria Hill. She acquitted herself more than adequately however. In fact, she was better than all of the other’s I’d had with maybe the exception of the huge guy.
The Doc shook out her arms before picking up the rubber knife. This was going to be interesting. I couldn’t help but wonder what she could do with a blade now having seen her undeniable prowess.
The knife looked comfortable in her hand despite her grip being too light. I’d be able to take that from her and then it’d be game over.
“Are you ready?” I asked when she stood before me again.
She bowed lightly, a respectful reflex of her martial arts training. I did the same. It was only right that we were civil, despite the burning in my veins that told me I had to take her down.
She moved her arms gracefully, legs shifting into a familiar stance I’d seen once already today.
My first assessment. The thin wiry man who’d been too eager to show off. Were the two connected? It would make sense if they were. Was I the reason he’d been so desperate to prove a point, showboating to get the better of me because he knew his girl hated my guts? Was she his girl? I couldn’t remember seeing them together but then again I tried to avoid her as much as possible, it would be easy to miss something like that.
And here she was now, in all her glory, doing for herself what her man couldn’t achieve. This was her lesson to me, to show me that I didn’t scare her, that she was in control, she’d defend his honour against me. Her aim was clear; to make me look stupid.
Acid rose in my gut and I actually felt angry. Seriously? She was going to make this whole assessment all about the animosity between us?
I nodded, ready to begin. Ready to have this shit over and done with. Ready to retire to my room and not come out for days.
It began simply enough, a few testing blows that had me blocking lightly, like she was getting the feel of me and how I fought. Then suddenly she settled into herself and she struck purposefully, my blocks leading to parries that she would in turn block and open me up for a sharp dig to a vulnerable pressure point.
Her fingers were precise, each time she struck yielded pain for me and there wasn’t a thing I could do other than not parry when I blocked. She kept hold of the knife easily enough despite my efforts to take it from her though she didn’t use it to great effect, almost like she knew I wanted it and would go for it at every opportunity.
She was smart and calculating but when an opportunity to take the knife next arose I ignored it, instead getting under her defences with a strike to the abdomen that pitched her back and onto the ground. She rolled smoothly, finishing in a defensive crouch, gasping hard against the pain I knew I’d caused but her eyes never left mine. Focused and predatory, she was like a damn cat.
We took our positions again, ignoring people talking around the edges of the mat. This time she didn’t hold back.
She actually threw the fucking knife at my face and lunged straight after. I caught it out of the air before it hit me but it was too late by then. Her knee connected high up on my chest, the force slamming me down against the ground where she knelt on top of me, her left knee pinning my right shoulder and her right leg stretched out down the metal arm with her foot pinning the wrist. Her fists were poised to strike but she didn’t.
There was chatter on the periphery of my focus.
Her face was smooth and calm but her eyes were wild. She was either furious or…
I tried to buck her off once but couldn’t quite manage it. Blade forgotten on the mat by the metal hand, I gripped her ankle and forced her leg up, shoving her off so hard she was forced to flip back onto her feet. So much in control of her movements it was almost lazy the way she landed.
I blessed the strength in that metal arm briefly, then I was up and going for her, anger clouding my judgement. I should have known the assessment was over. It had been over before we took our positions after I first struck her, but we were both too riled up to notice. Everyone else had finished and they were all watching us go at it like a pair of prize fighters.
Veronica continued to break me down with tactical strikes to my pressure points, once she even dug her knuckles into the sensitive flesh between my collar bone and the metal shoulder of me left arm.
I snarled through the pain.
Gritting my teeth, I caught her leg when she tried to follow through with a knee to my groin. She grabbed the collar of my suit with both hands and hopped up, pushing her other foot against my chest where she used all her strength to wrench her caught leg free of my grip. Throwing herself backwards in a graceful flip.
I had to admit I was a little surprised, I thought I had control of her but she’d thwarted me again.
Things were getting too heated and too personal but I didn’t care. She was taking everything I threw at her. I held little back. And she was giving the same, bringing pain in places I never thought I was vulnerable.
We were both tired, me from several hours exertion and her from giving me everything she had. Eventually she went for what would have been a killing move if she’d had a weapon. It began with a kick to my inside thigh lifting to a kick to the head, which she knew I would duck. Instead of following through she brought her leg back, hooking it around my neck and would have used my own body weight to roll me into a choke hold I would have had little hope of escaping without the strength of the serum and my prosthetic arm.
Had she landed the move, my neck would have been crushed between her calf and thigh, and the rest of my body opened up for attack. A knife to the heart would have been the perfect finish, if she had one.
As it was, I saw the hook kick coming and threw myself forward, taking her down with me.
She struggled, naturally, but I pinned her to the mat between my legs so I was sat on her hips. Both of her wrists in my metal hand, held viciously above her head with my right hand drawn back in an aborted punch.
We were both soaked in sweat, chests heaving. My fury had gotten the better of me but I hadn’t completely lost control. I had held back on some things at least but I knew I’d fucked up when I heard people talking around us.
I looked up to find fifty-five people staring at me, a mixture of shock and awe on their faces. Steve looked pissed but he didn’t say a word, only shook his head disappointedly.
The sound of laughter brought my focus back to the woman beneath me. She was laughing in between gasping breaths, her eyes fixed on mine.
I frowned angrily. This shit wasn’t funny. I could have seriously hurt her. She’d successfully goaded me into a dangerous fight and now she was laughing about it. Unbelievable. I let her go with a humph.
She grinned, rubbing her wrists before laying both hands softly atop my thighs. It was difficult to tell if her face was red from the fighting or if she had just blushed, but the slow blink and heavily lidded gaze that followed it pulled at something in my gut that shouldn’t even have been there.
Frowning more deeply, I got up. Not bothering to help her to her feet, I stormed out of the studio and hit the showers.
It’s safe to say I was raging, but there was also something else. The tight pressure against my groin guard was unwelcome.
That’s so fucked up.
Sure, she was beautiful but she hated me and the feeling was (is) mutual, especially now. And she’s taken – that wiry-looking guy from assessment one.
Since when did that factor in? You don’t like her. End of story. I told myself.
I let the water run over my body as I calmed myself down. Steve had been right. I should have let him swap Maria onto my list instead but I hadn’t thought it would affect me this much.
The heavy, wet slap of bare feet in the shower room told me I wasn’t alone. I didn’t need to look to know who.
“You wanna tell me what all that was about?” Steve said running the shower next to mine.
“Not really.”
“You’re gonna have to talk it out eventually.”
I didn’t reply. I knew he was angry with me but was making the effort to be diplomatic because he knew that anger would only be met with stubbornness. We knew each other well, and though I’d changed more than I liked, he hadn’t. He was still the same caring, kind, selfless punk-ass kid, he just had a bigger body now.
“I don’t get it, Buck. I really don’t.” Steve scrubbed under his arms. “What did she do to make you hate her so much?”
“She started it by hating me. Why don’t you ask her.” I turned my back on him, still not bothering to open my eyes. The water felt good. It was hot, just how I liked it.
“I have.” He said matter-of-fact.
“And?” It interested me more than I’d care to admit.
“Oh, no you don’t.” He half laughed in disbelief. “You don’t get to hear her story and keep yours to yourself.
“Fine.” I huffed and snagged the body wash I’d hung on the tap. “I know enough, I don’t need to know more.”
I knew Steve was trying to draw me out with the temptation of information. He knew I liked control, information and knowledge was one form of control I could easily achieve, if only I’d trade the information with him.
Nope. Not doing it.
I’d had a moment earlier where I wasn’t totally sure how I felt. There was something underneath the constant resentment I felt towards Dr Edwards, something that threw everything into a different light. I was definitely keeping that to myself.
We showered in silence for the remainder of the time, and when we were getting changed back into our regular clothes Steve stopped, leaning against the lockers.
“You know she completely kicked your ass, right?”
“Go fuck yourself.” I scoffed.
Snorting out a short laugh, he pulled on his trainers and left me to my thoughts.
The dawning of a realisation isn’t necessarily a freeing experience. Sometimes it’s painful as hell. I should know.
Of course I knew she’d kicked my ass. That delicate and intelligent Doctor had just flipped my world right upside down. Everything that had happened to me to make me the killing machine I was and the man I am now had been picked apart by the smooth motion of her body and the sharpness of her strikes. I was weak, emotionally, physically… well maybe not physically but I was vulnerable. She’d shown me that. Shown me how to improve. She’d always shown me how to be better, how to make the most of what I had. Right back to the beginning when I’d come with Steve for the first time and she’d just listened when I’d told her things about my past.
I hadn’t realised it then but I’d opened up. The words I’d said to her then.
I can’t trust my own mind.
I hadn’t had the arm then. My old one had been blasted off by Iron Douche and his chest ray of death.
She’d been so intuitive that I felt like she knew me already, and if she could see that far into my soul then she knew I was rotten to the core. Could she read the pages of that little red book in the lines on my face or the harrowing memories that glazed my eyes over? Could she look at me and see my death count? The idea of that made me ashamed.
If I thought about it hard enough, I could pinpoint the exact moment I began to shut her out and it was right there, on the exam table, when she was helping Dr Harvey assess the damage to my shoulder. I felt like I could trust her, felt like I could let her in. But that was dangerous. New things – dangerous. Opening up – dangerous. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable – dangerous. Getting close to someone who could potentially be your next weakness – dangerous and stupid.
I can’t trust my own mind.
I had shut the feelings down, distanced myself, called her by her formal title, and when she did the same, I convinced myself that it was because she disliked me or worse, she didn’t trust me.
After the assessments today, seeing how hard she went at me, I knew for sure that dislike had taken root. I’d put it there and kept it there so I only had myself to blame but it hurt a little more than it should. Much more than it should, actually. I couldn’t afford to let the feelings back in but I could at least acknowledge them for what they were.
I did like her, was attracted to her – actually that was the easiest part to explain. The rest… well, that was all jumbled up with the emotional baggage I carried around with me. There was too much of it to sort through to get it all straightened out, even with the therapy.
I guess it didn’t matter now anyway. The damage was done and I’d just have to live with things the way they were. I’d still keep my distance, for an easy life. That’s all I wanted really, for things to be easy for a change.
Continue to chapter three >>>
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfcition#bucky barnes x original female character#marvel#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes x ofc#bucky barnes fight scenes#sparring#action#fight scenes#my writing#cleared for duty#bucky fanfic#bucky fic#Bucky pov#cloudy's writing
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Imagine #9
Smiling down at the handsome soldier you had grown to love these last few months here in wakanda. Should have scared the hell out of you. But the peace of knowing who you where with would always over ride the defalt in your brain. Seeing his deep blue eyes always took your breath away. Always set uour inner soul on fire. The way they captured you inside thier tiny pools of warmth.
Taking a quick picture to capture these moment's was something bucky had always admired about you. He always watched you like you where his light. You where his light, his little sunshine he had grown to love. Reaching to pull you down to him he heard the soft click of the camera.
"Doll, Come lay here with me for a while. ?"
"Sure, Babycakes." Letting a string of giggles as she flopped down onto her super soldier. Feeling at home laying here with him on this cold hut floor.
#avengers#marvel#fanfiction#imagines#reader#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#photographer#bucky#captian america#fanfic#avengersassemble#endgame#fanfcition#wakanda#wintersoldier
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The Peter Parker Project: A Million Dreams Chapter One
Summery: Peter Parker was staying in Avengers tower while his Aunt May is in Brooklyn for about a week. No problem, right? Well, when your kind-of-girlfriend, your honorary Uncle, brother and Tony Stark then start to see a change in Peter... Well, that's when things get difficult.
My one-shots have moved to a short story! I don't know how many chapters there will be per se, but there will be more than three. And yes, Pietro is alive because his death is bullshit! ;P
Okay, so the ages, in order, go Pietro and Wanda Maximoff, Jade Wilson, Hope Thorson, Megan Lokison, Maddison Strange, Brooklyn Stark, Peter Parker and Kayleigh Rogers.
Pietro and Wanda- 18
Jade- 17
Hope, Megan and Maddison- 16
Brooklyn and Peter- 15
Kayleigh- 14
INFINITY WAR/ENDGAME SPOILERS IN THIS NEXT PARAGRAPH;
These ages are as-of Spider Man: Homecoming, when it comes to after Endgame, their ages differ. Brooklyn, Peter, Hope, Jade, and Jade will stay the same age, while Pietro, Megan, Maddison and Kayleigh will grow five years older. And I'm not calling it "The Blip" No. just, no. A blip only lasts a few seconds. The events of Infinity War/ Endgame will be called "The Disappearing Act Of 2018" Cool? Okay.
Chapter One: Uncle Bucky Is Resident Uncle
/Peter's P.O.V/
"So, tell me," Brooklyn asked, walking up to me and Pietro. "Why do you really want to transfer to Seaside?"
"You wanna transfer to Seaside?" Pietro asked, turning to face me.
"I don't learn anything. Seaside has a better STEM program. Simple as that." I shrugged my shoulders, letting them know that was that. They cannot know why I really want to transfer. I don't need their pity. Sure, Brooklyn's my kind-of girlfriend, and Pietro's basically my older brother. But they cannot know what goes on at Midtown.
"Petey, we know when you're lying." Brooklyn stated, her shoulder touched mine and I jerked back slightly, her touch feeling like ice. "Come on. You know you can tell us anything."
"I did tell you everything. Not everything needs to be complicated like Ultron attacking Sokovia. Or Hela trying to take over Asgard. Or even The Vulture tracking Spider Man down and trying to kill him because he knows I'm Spider Man."
"Wow. Just, wow." Brooklyn stated, shaking her head. "It's not about great evil, it's about high school!"
"So great evil?" I asked, with a smirk.
"Yes!" Pietro exclaimed, looking at me.
"Pietro, you're not helping." Brooklyn looked over at the blue-eyed speedster, who shrugged at her response and I chuckled slightly. Pietro was essentially my older brother, he and I are very close and let's just say, if anyone, Jade, ever messed with me, they'd be dealing with an angry speedster.
"Miss, may I remind you that school starts in twenty minutes, forty for Mr. Parker." Brooklyn's AI, SKYLA, Stealthy Karma Yearning Luxurious Accomplishments, warned us. Brooklyn loves her acronyms, just like Mr. Stark.
"Thanks, Sky." Brooklyn told her AI, grabbing her bookbag. "Bye Peter!" Brooklyn waved her goodbyes as the rest of the gang joined her and Pietro.
"Bye, kid." Pietro wrapped his arms around me in a hug behind me and I patted his hand as he did so. They left and I sighed. This is another part of why I want to transfer. I'll be with all my friends who really understand me. I mean, Ned and MJ are great. But they just don't understand what really goes on.
"Peter," I looked over to see Bucky, keys in hand. "Let's go. I'm driving you today."
"What? Happy too busy to drive me anymore?" I joked, picking up my backpack.
"No, something happened at the head office, Stark told me to drive you, I didn't argue. Plus, it gives me time to spend time with my favorite nephew." He bumped into my shoulder with his and I chuckled.
"Yeah right, I'm your only nephew."
"Exactly, kiddo."
We got into one of Mr. Stark's cars and he went into the main road.
"Uncle Bucky?" I asked, looking out the window.
"Hmm?" He replied, not taking his eyes off the road.
"What was school like when you were growing up?" I questioned, fully looking at him.
"Well, it was just like any school. There were people who you tolerated, hated, and got along with. And then there were the people you avoided at all costs. Jamison Bennett. I will never forget that name. Made Steve and mines' lives miserable, that boy." I nodded as I listened to him.
"Really? How bad?"
"Really bad. Unfortunately, teachers never listen to kids who are being bullied."
"I hear that."
"You now, I was a lot like you when I was about your age, Peter. I didn't like hanging out in big crowds. I only ever had one best friend. But as I got older, I let new people in. have you tried that?" I sighed at Bucky's question.
"It's not a matter of letting people in, it's the matter of will the new people turn on me." My answer was left alone as Bucky drove up to the front of the school.
"Have a good day, kiddo." Bucky told me, patting my leg.
"Thanks Uncle Bucky." I told him, getting my things and closing the door.
"DO GOOD IN SCHOOL KIDDO, DON'T DO ANYTHING I WOULDN'T DO!" Bucky screamed out the window and I sighed, but I smiled anyways.
"No way, dude! The Winter Solider, Bucky Barnes just dropped you off at school! How cool is that?!" Ned ran up to me, expressing how cool that was.
"Yeah, pretty cool." I chuckled nervously as we walked up to our lockers and got our things for class. Ned left for his class, one of the few classes that we don't have together, and I closed my locker.
"So, Penis Parker! The Bucky Barnes dropped you off today?" I sighed, shaking my head. I really don't need this today.
"Not today, Flash." I told him, trying to walk around him, but he stopped me, grabbing my hoodie and throwing me backwards slightly.
"No, tell me. how could someone who has so little possibly do to make The Winter Soldier drop you off?" I rolled my eyes at that.
"I didn't make him. He offered." I told him, trying to get past him, but he wouldn't let me.
"Did your Aunt leave you like your parents and Uncle? Oh, I wouldn't put it past her." I blood turned to ice during that moment. He can torture me all he wants, but my parents and Uncle are a no-go. Putting together as much courage as I had, I faced Flash.
"You don't know anything about my family! If you don't have your facts straight, don't use 'em!" I growled with as much courage as I could muster, and Flash glared. And I honestly got scared for a moment. I didn't have much time to think before I knew what happened. Flash punched me. hard. I fell down to the floor and he scoffed, probably at my pathetic-self.
"You're weak, Parker. You'll never be good enough for your Aunt. You're not smart enough, you're not strong enough. And you'll never live up to your parents." At that, Flash left, and the warning bell sounded, leaving the kids who had stood by to watch and not doing anything leave to. I got out my phone to check the damage Flash had done. No blood, thankfully. But I hope it doesn't turn into a black eye. Sighing, I picked up my stuff and practically ran to science class, but unfortunately, I was too late.
"Late again, Mr. Parker? I'll talk with you after class. Have a seat." My teacher, Ms. Warren told me, and I sighed, annoyed with myself. Great. I sat down and sighed again. This was turning out to be a great day.
"….. So if D = MC3, it shows the process of the speed of sound." I wrinkled my nose at that. that's wrong.
"That's wrong, Ms. Warren." I told her and she eyed me, so did half the class.
"Excuse me?" She questioned me and I sighed.
"You said that D=MC3 shows the process of the speed of sound. That's wrong. The equation is that if E=MC2 shows the process of the speed of light. Putting it simply, if an object approaches the speed of light, its mass becomes infinite and it is unable to go any faster than light travels. This cosmic speed limit has been a subject of much discussion in physics, and even in science fiction, as people think about how to travel across vast distances. The process was developed by Einstein in 1905." I told her and she glared….. If looks could kill.
"Peter Parker! I think I know how to teach this class! I expect more from you, not only were you late, but you disrespected me! Go to the office! They'll deal with you as they see fit!" She was not happy, to put it bluntly. I'm not good with emotions, but even I could see that. I got my stuff and went to the office.
An hour later, I was still getting yelled at. The Principle then called Aunt May; she didn't answer. She's out of town. He tried Tony and Pepper, neither of them answered.
"Who else can I call, Mr. Parker?" The Principal asked and I sighed.
"Maybe Bucky Barnes? 678…." I gave him his number and he called it. They talked for awhile before he hung up
"Mr. Barnes is coming to pick you up." I sighed and half-rolled my eyes. Great. Just what I needed.
About twenty minutes later, Bucky walked in.
"Hello, Mr. Barnes, it seems that the child—"
"My nephew." Bucky corrected him and I gave a small smile.
"…. Your nephew, disrespected a teacher in class." Bucky eyed me and I slunk down in my seat.
"Is that so? Very well. I'll deal with it." Bucky motioned for me to get up and I followed him. We got in the car and I sighed.
"Sorry I disturbed you today…." I mumbled, not looking Bucky in the eye.
"Kid, you didn't disturb me. So, tell me. Why'd you disrespect your teacher?" He asked, starting the car and getting on the main road.
"She was wrong." I told him and he narrowed his eyebrows.
"I'm sorry?" He questioned, as if he didn't believe me.
"She was wrong. Ms. Warren was wrong about Einstein's Theory of General Relativity." He eyed me again, waiting for more of an explanation. "She said that D=MC3 shows the process of the speed of sound. That's wrong. The equation is that if E=MC2 shows the process of the speed of light. That's the equation and she was wrong." I told him and he nodded, showing he understood what I was saying. And did…. Did he give a small smile?
"I'm proud of you, Pete." He told me and I looked at him, surprised. "You knew the right equation and you spoke out about it, very brave thing for you to do, for anyone. I don't know what your Aunt or Stark will think, but in my mind, it was the right thing for you to do." I smiled at that. Uncle Bucky will always have my back for this sort of thing.
Uncle Bucky pulled into the garage and we got out. He then looked at me and pulled me aside.
"What happened to your eye?" He asked me, extremely worried. Shit. Forgot about that.
"Nothing… I just, fell…" I told him and he scoffed.
"Fell since two hours ago? I doubt it. You're more care than that, Spider Man." He told me and I avoided eye-contact. "Seriously, though; what happened?" He asked, trying to get a better looked and I shoved him away, my senses being a bit more active than usual.
"Nothing! I'm fine, Uncle Bucky." I told him and started walking the other way. "I'm gonna go do homework." I told him, got in the elevator and went into my room in the tower and collapsed on my bed. I was staying here until my Aunt comes home from some hospital in Brooklyn; she won't be back for about a week. I'm kind of glad too, 'cause she would find out about Flash. But I'd find a way to hide it. And that's what I intend to do with Pietro, Brooklyn, Bucky and Mr. Stark. They'll never know.
I heard a knock on my door, and someone came in; it was Tony.
"Hey, kid. I heard you got kicked out of school today." He sat by my bed and sighed. "First time?" He asked with a smirk and I rolled my eyes but nodded.
"Alright. You wanna tell me what that's about?" He asked and I basically told him what I told Uncle Bucky.
"Wow. She kicked you out simply for the reason that you're the smartest in the room." Mr. Stark mumbled and shook his head.
"Mr. Stark, I'm sor—"
"Don't even finish that sentence. You should never have to apologize for being the smartest in the room." Mr. Stark moved my leg and he sat next to me.
"That's why I want to transfer to Seaside! They have a better academic program, including STEM!" I told him and he nodded, patting my leg.
"Alright. I'll pick up an application." He told me, standing up.
"Really?!" I exclaimed, seriously happy for once.
"Yep. You're too smart for them, Parker. You need a new environment. And Seaside's gonna give it to you." He started to walk out of the room, but he smiled at me. "You're too good for this world, you know, Pete." He told me and I smiled. "Lunch is in two hours."
"Thank you…. Tony." I told him and he smiled warmly at me, then walked out of the room.
No sooner did he leave did I jump into the air.
"YES! Karen, play my jam!"
"Certainly, Peter."
A familiar tune filled my soundproof room as I jammed out, singing along to it. I cannot believe that I'm finally going to Seaside! Wait until I tell Brooklyn and Pietro!
I'll let you decide what song he was listening to at the end; also, I love IronDad and SpiderSon. That's everything! And Bucky is the kid's uncle. Nobody can change my mind on that.
Anyways, I hope you guys liked it!
#peter parker#bucky barnes#pietro maximoff#tony stark#peter parker bullied#avengers fanfiction#fanfcition#spiderman#protective uncle#protective bucky
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Anytime
Summary: i have a fic idea (loosely based off of a prompt i found on pinterest) so bucky is still cautious when it comes to touching people & vice versa. one day after a mission, the avengers are in the quinjet on their way home, bucky sat down beside the reader & accidentally falling asleep on her & snuggling her. she doesn't make it a big deal but all the other members are surprised. just fluff involving soft bucky 💛 (requested by a sweet anon)
A/N: Here’s my second request!! I absolutely loved writing this one! I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Thanks for sending in the request sweet anon!! I have one more request <3
MY STORIES
Walking into the quinjet, you felt as your muscles gave into the soreness that would most likely multiply by tomorrow. The team had been called into infiltrate a Hydra base, Steve had checked out the intel and figured it was accurate not expecting so many Hydra agents to still be keeping guard. As they caught sight of the other super soldier that was also part of the mission, something in them snapped. It seemed Hydra still kept a dark and twisted hope they could again have their Soldier back.
A nasty fight ensued that had left all members of the team completely tired. The mission, though, had been completed. The team had walked away sore and tired, but with a treasure trove of Hydra information.
You stretched out your legs as you took your seat on the quinjet. Steve and Nat went up to the front, piloting the team back home to the compound.
“We should really ask Tony for comfier seats,” you said to Sam who sat directly across from you. From your peripheral vison you saw as Bucky stood placing his weapons back into their designated areas.
“Just last week you curled yourself up in that exact seat and knocked out for a good three hours,” Sam laughed, “If I remember correctly you were even drooling!”
“You know what,” you began, feeling a smile spread across your face at Sam’s words, “That doesn’t mean these seats can’t be more comfortable! And I wasn’t drooling, I don’t drool Wilson!”
“Tell the stain on the seat that,” he chuckled.
Your reply was cut before it even began as Bucky walked over to where you and Sam sat. You saw his eyes flicker between the seat next to Sam and the seat next to you. Surely not an easy decision. Sam would constantly pick on Bucky, in good nature of course, and he was still working on opening up to you.
“Come sit next to me,” you decided to speak up, never failing to feel the pull to get Bucky to become more comfortable around you. “Sam’s being an ass and I need back up,” you smiled.
Bucky’s eyebrows shot up giving you a shy smile.
“Isn’t he always?” he said as he took the seat next to you.
The giggle that flew past your lips caught you off guard. You couldn’t deny part of the need to get Bucky to open up to you was based on the fact that he was so dreamy. You could daydream about his long locks, blue eyes, and toned body all day long. You were usually pretty good at hiding your harboring crush for Bucky, but when he let you peek over the walls he had so firmly built, you couldn’t help but feel like a schoolgirl whose crush had finally noticed.
“He is,” you replied hoping not too much time had passed since he had spoken.
“I’m not afraid of either of you,” Sam said, angrily pointing at Bucky and you, then proceeding to make fists as if really calling you both out to fight.
“Am I going to have to go back there?” Nat yelled from the front of the quinjet.
You laughed, causing Bucky to turn towards you playfully rolling his eyes at Sam’s antics.
“We’re not afraid of you either, Wilson,” he said. Your smile growing wider at the carefree tone in his voice. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”
“Yup,” you said. “Bucky and I can take you down easily. With our eyes closed, even.”
Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“In your dreams,” he replied. “Old man over there would break his back and you would be too tired to take me down.”
“The only thing I’m tired of is this conversation,” you replied sarcastically, causing Bucky to chuckle and your heart to flutter ridiculously in your chest.
“Then shut up,” Sam said, giving you a mock-scowl.
“After you,” you retorted, mimicking his expression.
You heard as Bucky let out a quick breath through his nose indicating his mild amusement.
“Just go to sleep,” Sam said, “I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“I would, but these darn seats!”
“I already told you what happened last week. Quit being a diva and just go to sleep.”
“That’s it!” you heard Nat say as she began unbuckling from her seat up front. “You’re all a bunch of children,” she chastised.
“We’ll shut up,” you called out. You might not fear Sam, but Nat? She was someone everybody had a bit of fear towards.
Nat thankfully sat back down in her seat and returned to her conversation with Steve who sported an unamused look.
“Coward,” Sam whispered.
“Bird with sunglasses,” you whispered back leaning forward in your seat.
“Drooler,” he replied.
“I’ll fog up your glasses on the next mission, I swear,” you said unable to think of more names to call him.
This brought out another light chuckle from Bucky. You turned to him and saw that he had rested his head back on the headrest of the seat. His arms laid crossed on his chest; that muscular, wide, chest of his. He had also closed his eyes, notably tired.
You immediately settled back in your seat. Bucky’s nights were always long. The evident lack of sleep always caused your heart to hurt. Apart from his obvious handsomeness, there was something good in Bucky that made you hope he’d find peace soon.
He had moments with Steve where the bags under his eyes would seem to disappear. Even Sam, sometimes brought out a laugh from the Super Soldier. You would nearly bounce up and down when it was you bringing out a laugh from him. Like today, those moments usually came as a result of your banters with Sam. Other times he would catch the little comments you muttered after a big speech from Tony or Steve and he would flash you a charming smile as he shook his head. Seeing him be so carefree and happy filled your heart. No one in the world deserved happiness as much as him.
He always kept his distance, though, still not comfortable enough to get too close. At night, when you would hear his painful screams coming from his room, you wished you could wrap your arms around him, maybe cover him with a blanket, and make it all go away. He wasn’t ready for that, so you gave him his space. After all he had been through, he deserved his decisions and boundaries to be respected.
Seeing him close his eyes and rest his head back, had you hoping you could make sure he could at least rest a bit on the way back home. Maybe a little bit of rest could begin making up for the many restless nights it was obvious he’d had, especially after such a rough mission.
Sam noticed your change in demeanor and also settled back in his seat, eyes flickering over to Bucky, whose features had begun to relax. Despite their constant bickering, they cared for one another like brothers.
“We’ll finish this later,” he whispered.
Whatever, you mouthed.
You closed your eyes and felt sleep pull almost instantly. Your mind began to relax, the thoughts of Sam, the mission, and Bucky started their journey to the back of your mind as the world of dreams took their place.
You had probably slept for half an hour when you felt a weight on your shoulder and warmth spread across your neck. Your head had leaned over to the right, leaving your shoulder and neck exposed. You slowly opened your eyes and saw Bucky had laid his head on your shoulder, his warm breath fanned across your neck. You shot a glance to Sam who had also fallen asleep.
Thinking he might be more comfortable resting his head back on headrest you began to move, careful not to wake him.
He scrunched up his nose as you moved some of his hair away from his face. Carefully moving his head, you froze as he blinked his eyes open.
Expecting him to settle back in his seat you gave him a little nudge, hoping he would be more comfortable.
Instead he exhaled through his nose and bent down to rest his head on your lap. He moved his head up and down a couple of times across your leg, finding the most comfortable place to finally fall back asleep. Once he found it, he gave a soft sigh that melted your heart.
You couldn’t possibly move him now. That sigh had sounded so peaceful, you would hate yourself for waking him up if you moved him. This was also the closest you’d ever been to him and his handsome face made it impossible to look away.
His features had softened. His eyebrows remained creased the majority of the time and now they laid perfectly relaxed. Your gaze fell on his lips that remained partially open. So many times, you had heard the screams that escaped past them in the middle of the night, and a warmth spread across your chest seeing how peaceful they looked now. You wished again you could wrap your arms around him, keeping this moment forever suspended in the air to give him the time necessary to truly rest.
Instead, you felt as your fingers began inching towards his hair. The need to soothe him some more was too much to hold back. Slowly you began softly carding your fingers through his hair, gently detangling the knots that you found.
Another soft sigh escaped past his lips making the butterflies in your stomach fly wildly.
Just then Steve got up from his chair letting Natasha know to take over the controls.
He froze as he noticed the scene that had been playing out right behind him.
You quickly brought up your finger to your lips, silently requesting him not to be too loud so as not to wake Bucky up.
He simply looked back and forth between you and Bucky. Not knowing yourself what was happening, you went back to playing with Bucky’s hair as you gave Steve a small shrug.
He gave you a small smile and mouthed Thank you before quietly returning to his seat.
You had asked him about how best to help Bucky. Steve was his best friend, after all, so who better to ask? He had told you to be patient, that Bucky would notice your attempt at friendship and slowly open up. You had kept that in the back of your mind ever since, letting it guide you through every interaction with Bucky.
Your fingers kept running through Bucky’s hair, you envied its softness and volume. Maybe one day he would share his secrets with you.
Carding your fingers through his hair was relaxing for you too, you slowly felt your eyes close. Sleep calling your name once more.
---
The next time you woke up it was because of a small shake of your shoulders. You opened your eyes to find Sam standing in front of you.
“Hey,” he said, and you noticed how quiet his voice was. “We just landed, gotta wake up sleeping beauty,” he said pointing at Bucky with a chuckle.
“Sam Wilson,” you whispered harshly, “I better hear no more jokes based on this. Bucky deserved to sleep just like you di-“
“I won’t,” he said, putting his arms in the air showing you his surrender.
“You better not be lying.”
“I’m not. Anyway, Steve and Nat already left. Wake Slee- I mean Bucky up and meet us inside.”
“Fine,” you said looking down to a still peaceful Bucky.
As soon as Sam stepped off the quinjet you began whispering Bucky’s name and giving his shoulder gentle shakes. There would be no way to move his shoulders much considering their size.
“Buck,” you whispered. “Hey, we’re home.”
He scrunched up his eye brows making little noises of disapproval at being woken up.
“I know,” you cooed. “I’d let you sleep too, but we gotta get up.”
He blinked his eyes open at that, slowly taking in his surroundings. Finally realizing where he was, and on who he had been sleeping, his back suddenly straightened causing you to yelp.
“Shit,” he said, voice raspy and sleepy. “Sorry about that.”
He bashfully looked down, avoiding your gaze.
Your heart leapt at the shy demeanor he was showing you. Bucky Barnes could be as adorable as he was handsome.
“It’s alright,” you smiled, stretching your legs and feeling them slowly come back to life. “You seemed peaceful and I didn’t mind.”
His eyes came up to meet yours, a small blush tinting his cheeks.
“You should’ve woken me up, Y/N.”
“I don’t think so,” you said playfully. “The mission was rough, these seats suck, and if I could in anyway help you relax, then it was worth it.”
His eyes remained locked in yours seemingly searching for something.
“Thank you,” he said softly, rewarding you with a smile.
“No problem,” you said.
“Shall we go?” he asked, hesitantly extending his arm towards you as he got up.
He helped you up and kept you steady as your legs woke up from not moving for so long.
Your hands rested on his forearms as he waited for you to appear more stable on your feet. You made sure he seemed comfortable with the way you were close to him,
“See, your legs were asleep the whole time, doll.”
He froze as the pet name slipped out. Hastily he looked everywhere but at you.
You felt as the warmth spread across your cheeks. You had never been called doll before. You were aware it was a common pet name in the 40’s men used with ladies they liked, and the thought of it made you blush even harder.
“Sorry,” he said suddenly letting you go. Your legs weren’t fully back yet so you began to fall to the ground.
Reacting quickly Bucky caught you before you hit the ground.
“Shit! Sorry!”
You laughed as he brought you up finding humor in the entire situation. You were both a mess. He held you close, making sure you stood upright again.
“You ok?” he asked, worry evident in his features.
“Yes,” you said still giggling.
“You sure?” he asked, a chuckle beginning to form at the end of his question.
“Yeah,” you repeated, “I’ve just never been called ‘doll’ before,” you smiled.
He averted his gaze again, putting some space in between you and you instantly regretted pointing it out.
“It’s a shame,” he said, bringing his eyes back to yours. His eyes almost made you gasp. There was something new swimming in them; a spark you hadn’t seen before. “Because you really are a doll.”
The blush returned to your cheeks with a vengeance. It was you who now averted your gaze, trying to keep your heart from ripping through your chest.
He chuckled at your reaction.
“Are you good to go?” he asked casually, as if he hadn’t made you melt moments earlier.
You nodded, not trusting your voice. He let you go and you immediately missed how close he had been.
“Thanks for everything, Y/N,” he said as the two of you walked off the quinjet. “Not just for today, but for always giving me a friendly smile, for always trying to make me comfortable. I really do appreciate it.”
You smiled, grateful Steve had been right about being patient and the fact that Bucky would notice.
“Anytime Buck,” you said.
“Anytime?” he asked. You noted the playful tone coming back to his voice and braced yourself for the blush that was surely on its way. “How about tomorrow at lunch. Would you join me? We could try and figure out a way to get back at Sam.”
Your smile couldn’t be wider if you tried.
“Sounds like a perfect idea,” you said.
“Perfect,” he confirmed.
As you approached the compound, you had trouble settling the butterflies in your stomach down. You looked forward to getting even closer to Bucky tomorrow. All the soreness in the world could not keep you away from that date.
---
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfcition#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky fanfiction#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes fluff#bucky fluff#my requests#stories by notimetoblog
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That was so cute and heartbreaking 🥺♥️ omg! Amazing!
Lavender
summary: Not every nightmare is the same and Bucky doesn’t always wake up as the man you know.
pairing: bucky x reader
word count: 5.9k
warnings: mentions of torture, nightmares
author’s note: So I’ve seen a lot of fics of Bucky waking up as the winter soldier after a nightmare, but I was curious… what happens if he wakes up as a different version of himself?
Sometimes, what ripped you from your sleep in the early hours of the morning, while the sun hung below the tree, wasn’t the kind of paralyzing, heart-wrenching scream that could tear through you like a knife. It wasn’t always sprinting down the hall at two in the morning or violent shaking, evading swinging fists and broken table lamps.
Sometimes, it was restless movements while he slept; tossing and turning, mumbling under his breath, words that would shatter your heart with every broken ache in his voice. Sometimes, it was clinging to you in his sleep, tears wet on his cheeks, sweat dampening the sheets under him. It was the kind of fear that left a lingering, unsettled feeling long beyond he opened his eyes.
Weiterlesen
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The Sound of Silence (p/6)
. Hello lovelys! it tis me again! i Am so excited for this series. I felt generous today and decided to add another chapter. Please like, comment. and follow for more. Just a reminder i do one shots, preferences, fanfictions. and so many more. All you have to do is ask. Please enjoy my new series. Love you guys so much. ~
Sleeping had always been hard on me. Never once was I ever able to sleep comfortably. It seems even being in this world I had yet to succumb to the idea of sleep. Looking at the silly sheets before me. I sighed to myself more than i would have liked. Throwing the covers back, i slowly make my way torwards my window.
I had never been the type to have peaceful sleep. It just wasn't something I had ever done or would grow use to. Between the sheets of silk and the thoughts of my friends. I could not dream or even nod off to sleep even a little bit. The moon was shinning through the curtains of the lonely bedroom. I had gotten out of the bath ages ago when my skin had decided to shrivel up into barely noticeable fingers.
Looking up at the ceiling i make my mind up to slowly get up from the bed. Making my way towards my door and out into the hall. The dark and quiet hallway drug a chill up my spine. Slowly padding down I take the first door I see and suddenly I faint music coming from the stairs that lead down torward's what i assume another room.
The sound gets louder and i slowly make my way down. Coming up to a glass door i faintly hear the band Ac/Dc playing through the scatters of metal. The déjà vu that hits me reminds me of the lab i had watched as a little girl in Iron man. Before i can stop myself with any rational thought.
" Tony? Is that you?" When I receive no response I make my way down through to the glass.
" Jarvis. Grant me access to Tony. Please" sighing softly. I hope this works.
" Ma'am Mr.Stark has informed me to deny access to everyone at the moment."
" I was not asking Jarvis. Over ride protocol. I am helping Tony get back to bed. Pepper would kill him if she found out he isn't sleeping again."
" As you wish miss" Smirking to myself i see the doors open slightly. Pushing my way into the cluttered room. I hear a faint pop and a word that sounds like it could come from a mouth of a sailor.
Letting a small giggle make it's way past my lips. I see the mayhem that caused such a word to fly through the billionaires lips.
" You kiss your A.I with that mouth Mr.Stark" Seeing Tony jump and turn around with that skeptical glare almost did something to me. Almost. Seeing him get up and stalk over to me was a treat in themselves. I had admired this man for as long as i could remember and to see his attention on a nobody like me. Sparked a new form of emotion i could not understand.
" Security Breach, Who let you in?" His eyes showed deep dark bags under them. While he kinda slicked his way over.
" Jarvis Did. I threaten Mrs. Potts if he did not let me in. " Feeling the accomplishment pride within me. Sparked his interest.
" Hmmm.. That big girl attitude... I don't buy it one bit Missy. " Shaking his finger in defiance at me. Reminded me of a father scolding a child.
"I don't know what you mean" Looking directly past him at the dummy in the corner. I see the lights slightly brighten in the dim room. Walking past him I sit my self directly on the work desk. Even though i struggled just a bit to get on there. If he noticed the struggle or not he did not mention it.
" You know. It's not everyday a woman falls from the sky almost makes me beg to question" He smirked down at me. When had he put himself in front of me. I had not noticed him walk over here. Was it when i was getting on his desk. Oh god his eyes are like deep dark brown pools of excitement and home. I can feel my face flushing at our closeness.
He seemed to take this as a hint to get closer now. I could feel his breath across my face. My heart was hammering inside my chest. There was no way i was gonna make it out of here alive if he continued. He knew what he was doing to by that smirk on his face. That smirk was everything i loved but hated from men. That I was easy picking for the men who thought a big girl would rejoice to sleep with them.
My heart went from pounding to my blood boiling in its wake. In one fluid motion i extended my hand and Slapped him. From the shocked look on his face and the stinging in my hand. I pushed the once cocky man aside as i made my way towards the hallway and running down the way i came. The tears where flowing without any care now, why had i put myself in a predicament like this.
Without looking i ran into a hard wall. But suddenly i felt said walls arms around me.
#bucky barnes#teambucky#teamavengers#avengersassemble#avenger#avengers#stevexreader#plus size reader#lokixreader#loki x oc#loki laufeyson#loki (marvel)#marvelfanfiction#fanfcition#tony x reader#tony stark#marveluniverse#sam wilson#captain america#ironman#thor#marvel#steve rogers#imagines#marvel imagine#bucky x reader#avengersendgame#captian america#fanfiction
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