#i'm not sure how much it's stuck after he stopped writing bucky

[or-echo]

how bucky allegedly found out steve was captain america (they expect us to believe that?)

or, how to become a sidekick 101.

[based on this video]

[a-jar-of-beetles]

kristen thoughts plus divine musings

I really want to write out my theory and speculations about last episode but Kristen C. Applebee's won't stop taking up all my brain space so I might as well share my ramblings.

First off it was a really interesting choice to reach out to her parents she could have easily settled for checking in with Bucky to see how he and their other siblings were doing, but decided to talk to her parents anyway which besides being brave also shows a maturity that often alludes Kristen (not that ignoring her parents for the rest of her life is immature but that's not the point I'm making).

Although I wish she could have interacted more with her brothers her conversation with her parents was not as confrontational as I would have expected I for sure thought that Kristen would have bitten back at the "Helio might not have let that happen" comment when Kristen the literal chosen one of Helio has died multiple times.

Another thing that stuck out to me was the way Mac and Donna talked about Galicaea, they acted like she was just some random goddess but in Elysium Galicaea refers to Sol as her brother which is a weird thing for Kristen's parents to ignore so is the fact that Sol and Galicaea are siblings something that not common knowledge? Could it just be something that's forbidden or just taboo to talk about? Mac and Donna were also pretty judgemental about elves when they were first introduced so maybe it has something to do with that?

So that got me thinking about how Cassandra is mostly referred to as Galicaea's sister instead of Sol's while it could just be that they're both associated with night and that they both had elven followers but it made me wonder what type of relationship they had. Were they just never close in Elysium he never mentioned Cassandra but that could have just been because Kristen didn't ask him about her the only real thing we know about Sol is that he obviously approved of Ankarna and Cassandra otherwise he wouldn't have officiated their wedding.

Which brought me back to how Sol followers in the modern/evangelist church of Sol don't seem to actually know or care about what Sol actually represents/represented, which made me think about the inverse. Does Sol even truly know what's going on with his followers? Because of devil's nectar we know Gods can be purposely deceived but we also know that the nectar works by deceiving yourself first so if you truly believe something and tell your God the same they will believe it too because in Spyre the gods aren't omniscient, we've literally seen it with Galicaea who thought that Cassandra erasing her old name was her own idea and the Nightmare King killed her even when there was evidence to the contrary. Do you think her clerics did it on purpose? Whether their words were Honeyed or delusional Galicaea was still lied to. Galicaea who loved her sister, who would destroy anyone that would dare hurt her baby sister, who bared her fangs at the mention of doubt and only spoke of conviction and clarity which belonged to her fallen sister in law.

Do you think that after Cassandra died Ankarna wasn't the only one who got corrupted? Do you think that with out someone to champion doubt and hold peoples hand through the unknown, people stopped questioning the words of their preachers, paladins and clerics? because doubt became hard to speak about was it just ignored and swallowed? Was it the avoidance of doubt that made the followers of Sol demonize Ankarna? Because without Cassandra Ankarna was no longer a part of their family? Sol and Galicaea did they care? How did they when they lost the last part of Cassandra besides themselves? Were they sad?angry? relived? upset? apathetic? Did they even notice it happen at all?

Maybe I've just been thinking too much

IDK

[kikixreverie]

You mentioned abb riding with bucky in one of your nsfw drabbles and now I can't stop thinking about it. That's so HOT

Can we get more on it??

Sweet Distraction

Bucky Barnes x F!reader

Summary - An offered back massage turns into something much more enticing.

Word count - 2.1k

Warnings - Smut (+18), Ab riding, praise kink, swearing. pet-names and soft fluffy!Bucky.

A/n - Holy hell, I haven't posted any fics in over 4 months, 4 fucking months. Honestly I've been so busy and exhausted lately I haven't had the chance to do anything, but hopefully I can finally be back to posting more regularly.

I got this ask a long time ago so I'm very sorry it took me so long to finally write something but here I am. Also this got a lot fluffier than I had anticipated but whatever. Hope you enjoy!

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

Bucky was stressed.

After spending practically the whole morning training with Steve, and then the whole afternoon stuck in some pointless 'team meeting', he was very ready to finally retire to his room and spend the rest of the evening in his bed.

Well... Your bed.

You hadn't been official for long, in fact, neither of you had told anyone that you were dating yet, but that's not to say that nobody knew, neither of you were very subtle, especially considering the fact that Bucky hadn't actually spent a single night in his own room, 3 floors below yours, in weeks.

You knew where he was going the instant he excused himself immediately after the debriefing ended, up and out of the stuffy room before you could even blink. So you gave him a few minutes alone before saying goodnight to your colleagues and heading over to your room.

You couldn't hold back the smile that pulled at the corners of your lips when you found him sprawled out on your bed, laying on his front with his arms folded under the pillow he laid his head on.

"Buck, you asleep?" You asked quietly, making sure not to wake him if he was, but he shook his head, mumbling a tired no before turning his head to look at you.

You could see the dark circles under his eyes from the other side of the room, and you frowned at the sight, pouting slightly with furrowed eyebrows as you walked closer to him, crouching beside the bed.

"Hey, love." You whispered, brushing strands of hair away from his face, smiling at the way his eyes fluttered shut for a moment, savouring your touch, "How's it going?"

He sighed, "I'm okay, just had a long day I guess."

You nodded, standing up and walking to your closet to get yourself a comfy change of clothes, unbuttoning your shirt as you went. "Do you want a back massage?"

He paused, watching you with an intense stare as you pulled on a pair of comfy shorts, "No, that's okay, you don't have to-"

"Bucky. I wouldn't be offering if I didn't want to." You interrupted him, pulling on one of his comfy henleys and raising a brow at him, "Would you like one? I'd be happy to."

He hesitated for a few seconds, eyes raking over your form before he finally conceded, nodding as he buried his head further into the pillow, "Yes please."

You shook your head in amusement and walked back to the bed, sitting beside him and gently placing your hand on the middle of his back, "Could you take this off please?"

He nodded again, reaching over his shoulder to pull the cotton shirt over his head before tossing it aside, and you felt your mouth go dry at the sight.

He shivered when you pressed your palms to the warm bare skin of his back, the muscles at his shoulders rippling with the movement, his arms both lifted to rest his head, skin and silver metal alike.

It was then that you realised that giving him a proper back massage, whilst being stood beside your bed, that was much shorter than you'd ever noticed, would be more difficult than you had anticipated, so you stood silently for a while, trying to work out the logistics in your head.

"Could I- urm..." You hesitated, heat flooding to your cheeks despite the fact that you'd been sharing a bed with this man for almost a month now.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He asked, turning his head to face you, his cheek resting on the back of his flesh hand.

You froze for a second before nodding with a small smile.

"I was just wondering if I could...uh... sit on you?" You asked, a sheepish look on your face when he raised his eyebrows, "It would be a lot easier since the bed is kinda short and you're-"

"Absolutely you can, doll." He answered with no hesitation as he laid his head back down, a stupid smirk on his face.

You rolled your eyes dramatically as you climbed onto the bed beside him, then hiked your leg over his waist, not-so-carefully settling yourself onto his lower back, your soft, bare thighs pressing against his skin.

You felt as he chuckled lightly beneath you and couldn't stop yourself from smiling along, shaking your head with a grin on your face as you leaned forward and pressed the heel of your palms into his shoulder blades, before kneading upwards, desperately trying to ignore how practically godlike he looked and felt under you.

It was when he let slip a quiet groan that your blushing cheeks grew even hotter, your lip finding its place between your teeth as you used your thumbs to massage down his spine. You could feel the stiff tension in his back unravelling as you continued, his body no longer tense as he relaxed into the mattress.

God, you wished you could see his face right now.

You couldn't help yourself, not when his skin was so soft and warm under your hands, not when he let out a groan far too similar to a rather unholy-sounding moan, and you eventually found yourself leaning down, pressing yourself fully to his back as you kissed the nape of his neck, your lips lingering for a second before you travelled lower, kissing the divot in between his shoulder blades, and then further down his spine.

Each kiss you pressed to his back slow and steady, dusting them along his spine, peppering kisses across his shoulders.

Bucky had fallen silent since the kisses had started, and for a while, you thought that he had fallen asleep, but the pleased sigh that he let out when you inched closer to his neck was evidence enough that he was not.

"Honey." He murmured, voice serious and liquid gold, and you hummed back to him, kissing his right shoulder again, "Sit up."

"Hm?" You replied, doing as he'd asked, but before you knew it he was turning over underneath you, his hands braced on your hips once he had his back to the mattress.

Then he was sitting up with you, his fingers drifting to the nape of your neck as he leant closer, pressing his lips to yours.

You were in action straightaway, fingers against his neck and cheek as you settled yourself onto his lap, kissing him with the same fervour that he kissed you, and you moaned when he coaxed your lips open with his own, his tongue dipping into your mouth to glide against yours.

Falling back onto the bed, Bucky placed his hand on your lower back, pulling you with him and you both laughed when you landed not very gracefully, almost headbutting him as you landed.

Your laugh was quickly cut off though when he wiggled underneath you, getting himself comfortable on the bed, and catching you entirely off guard when he practically grinded his stomach against your core. You gasped at the mouth-watering feeling, freezing in your place.

"You okay there, sweetheart?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed as he eyed your expression. You didn't respond, just sat up on his stomach, heat creeping up your neck.

He glided his hands up your thighs, deft fingers slipping under the henley you wore to grip the soft skin of your waist, just above the band of your shorts, squeezing slightly.

It was still for a moment, Bucky watching you with calculating eyes until without warning, he guided you forward with a gentle roll of your hips, using his grip on your waist to grind you against him and your lips parted, your breath catching in your throat as your hands landed on his bare chest.

"Oh." He whispered, another gentle squeeze to your hips as he realised what had happened, and the mood changed instantly. When you finally gained the courage to look down at him, you found him staring up at you, an eyebrow raised with a small, knowing smirk gracing his lips.

His gaze was intense, eyes boring into yours as you nibbled on your lower lip.

"S'that feel good, honey? That why you've gone all shy and quiet on me, huh?" His voice was so soft, and you desperately wanted to roll your eyes at his teasing words, but instead found yourself rolling them back when he grinded you against him with much more purpose this time, the ache between your legs easing slightly with the friction of him against you. "Open your eyes sweetheart. I wanna look at my pretty girl."

The second your gaze met his, he rolled your hips again, and you instantly fought to close them.

"Open." Bucky reminded you, and you did as he said with a frustrated groan.

"Bucky I-" You cut yourself off with a broken moan, watching the way he slid his tongue across his lower lip to pull it between his teeth, biting down on the soft flesh that you wanted to do the same to.

"I know, doll. I can feel you throbbing on me, sweetheart." He groaned, rubbing his thumbs up and down your waist, before they snuck under the waistband of your shorts, "How 'bout we take these off, huh? I want you to get yourself off on my abs, honey. D'you want that? I know how much you like them. God knows you'd look like a fuckin' angel riding them, doll. Grindin' yourself on me, taking what you need. Can you do that for me, honey?"

You felt yourself melt further and further with each honey-drenched word he uttered, the throbbing in between your legs becoming so distracting that you couldn't help but drag yourself against him without the pull of his hands.

"Fuck. Please Bucky- Need it so bad." You couldn't help but whimper the words.

It took some awkward manoeuvring to get you out of your shorts, but soon enough you were hovering over his bare stomach, wearing nothing but one of his henleys with your heart thrumming in your chest.

"Go ahead, sweetheart. I'm all yours." He moved his right hand from your waist and glided his flesh thumb across your lower lip, noticing your apprehension before he slid his hand to the back of your neck and gently pulled you down to him, kissing you deep and slow, tongue dipping into your mouth and you couldn't help but lower yourself onto his abdomen as you got lost in the kiss, reeling at his groan that vibrated against your lips when he felt how soaked you were.

You rolled your hips against him, moaning into his mouth as the ridges and divots of his abs created perfect friction against your clit, easing you into a rapidly building rhythm.

When you no longer had the focus to kiss him, you sat up so you could look at him instead, your head tilting back as a moan tumbled from your lips.

As your hips sped up, Bucky pulled at the henley you wore, watching you intently as you rushed to help him take it off you, leaving you completely bare over him as he still wore his sweatpants.

"Fuck, sweetheart. You're such a good girl, y'know that? Look so fuckin' beautiful." He purred, showering you in the praise and compliments that only made the elastic band in your abdomen pull tighter, drawing closer and closer to snapping much sooner than you had expected.

Bucky then raised his hand to tease his metal thumb across your nipple, you gasped at the cool temperature of his hand, and with the sensation of his deft fingers twisting the sensitive nub, along with the drag of your clit against his skin, you were being pulled under, heat spreading across your body as you rocked your hips faster against him, your wetness coating his abdomen.

"That's it, baby. So good."

His praise drove you over that edge, your head falling back as your orgasm washed over you, white-hot pleasure spreading through your body in waves as Bucky returned his hands to your hips to help you rock against him when you began to slow down, guiding you through your climax and prolonging it for as long as he could.

You collapsed onto his chest when the orgasm subsided, your forehead resting on his shoulder as you caught your breath, your body thrumming as you came down, and Bucky held you close, watching you like he so often did.

"You're amazing, you know that?" He whispered, and you couldn't help but chuckle, lifting your head to meet his eye, returning his soft smile.

"But I ruined your massage." You joked, giving him an apologetic look which he quickly shook his head at, dragging his fingers up your spine, "Sorry."

"No need to apologise, doll. I appreciate the massage very much, but I could watch you do that all day." He replied, kissing the bridge of your nose.

"All day, huh? Think we could get away with that?" You challenged, and he gave you a wide smirk in return.

"Depends, doll. Are you up for it?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I am. But are you, old man?" You squinted at him, but he only leaned forward and kissed you again, deeper this time.

"Old man, huh? We'll see about that." He mumbled against your lips, the stress of the day forgotten with the beautiful distraction of you and your teasing smile.

[sebastiansluts]

Would you do bucky x plus size reader with “don't be shy now, sit on my face” & bucky gets angry/feral that she’s denying him what he wants? Like maybe he has to somehow force her to do it? Thanks, love ur writing!!!😘

I hope this was okay! And thank you so much, I really appreciate that!

Bucky Barnes x Reader; plus size!reader, f receiving oral sex, face sitting, slight smothering

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON'T LIKE, DON'T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

Bucky was laying in the bed naked, hands behind his head, waiting for you after a shower. He grinned at you as you stood next to the bed, a towel held up in front of you, trying to decide how best to curl up to him.

"Don't by shy now, sit on my face," Bucky said playfully, mismatched hands reaching out for you, but you dodged them, only managing to grab your towel from you.

"Bucky! Stop, that's sweet, but no," you shook your head, hand out for your towel.

"Doll," he growled, leaning up on one elbow, grip firm on your towel. "I said, 'sit, on my face. Don't think I can make that any clearer than if I grabbed you and sat you on my face myself. I will if that's what it takes, I'm just making sure you know that."

"Bucky, please, be serious," you huffed, sitting down next to him on the bed.

"Alright, guess we're doing it my way," Bucky grumbled and sat up, his arms bulging as he lifted you farther back onto the bed, turning you over to your knees and getting you to straddle his hips. You grinned, thinking you were going to ride him, but then his hands were digging into your ass, pushing you until you had no choice but to stumble forwards on your knees, all the way up to his face.

"Bucky, I'm not sitting on your face, I'll suffocate you or break your nose, or both, knowing me." Bucky just glared up at you, pushing you up until your pussy was directly above him.

His hands slid up your thick thighs, spread around his head, wrapping his arms around them and pushing at your stomach until you had to bend, his strength far greater than yours.

"Bucky!" you cried, but he ignored you, pulling on your thighs until you were hovering inches from his mouth. He breathed hotly on your pussy, then slowly stuck his tongue out and licked your folds. Your body shuddered and you fell forwards against the headboard, grasping it as Bucky growled, and yanked you hard.

The headboard creaked as it swayed, then thunked back against the wall when you lost your grip, falling onto Bucky's face.

His reaction was instantaneous. He became a man possessed, face completely pressed into your pussy, sucking and licking, pulling you even harder onto him.

You couldn't help it, you moaned as you ground yourself down onto Bucky. You tried to lift off to let him breathe, but he wouldn't let go of you, letting himself be smothered for a moment, his hips twitching.

Bucky let you press up for about two seconds, before he was pulling you back down, slurping at your cunt like it was the best thing he'd ever had and would never get his fill of it.

"Bucky! I- oh fuck, I'm gonna come," you warned, and tried to raise up again, but he held on, determined to wait you out. He thrust his tongue into your pussy then swirled it around your clit, sucking and biting lightly.

Your thighs shook, pressed tight around his head, muffling his hearing, but he could still make out the sounds of you moaning, his favorite sound.

You shook as you came, thighs squeezing Bucky's head tight, making his eyes roll back as he came too, shooting across his stomach and chest as he drank you down.

Bucky finally let you up, and you slumped to the side, legs still wrapped around his head, resting more on his broad chest now.

"That...is why you sit, doll," Bucky panted, metal hand slapping your thigh lightly.

[intrepidacious]

every dream gone

summary: After the events of Winter Soldier, Bucky slowly realizes just how much he lost after his fall.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: bucky being sad; vague mentions of brainwashing and a whole lot of guilt; don't look for a happy ending with this one folks (i'm sorry 🥲)

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: i started writing this fic back in september and it took me until now to gather the emotional willpower to finish it. blame this song that inspired the whole thing.

masterlist | read on ao3

It took Bucky a while to remember you, after everything, but he did.

The first memory came back while he was on the run. He'd been in Europe for a while by then, sleeping in freight cars, never staying anywhere for longer than a week, trying to keep a low profile while both HYDRA and Steve were still frantically looking for him everywhere. Those early days were the worst.

He spent most of his time on trains and tried to figure out why he hated it so much.

Being in England calmed him a bit. It was nice getting used to hearing people speak English around him again, and not in a tone that commanded obedience.

He didn't have much to go off, just scattered memories that didn't quite seem to fit together. There was always something off about them, something like the taste of metal where it shouldn't be. This time, the fragments led him to a flea market.

There were only a handful of people dotted in between the stands, which was probably for the best. His long sleeves usually attracted some curious glances this late into July.

He didn't exactly have money to spare for knick-knacks or secondhand souvenirs, but his feet carried him straight to one stand in particular, without him even realizing. His fingertips grazed along the spines of old paperbacks that were lined up like soldiers, but Bucky didn't spare them more than a glance.

He stopped at the next table over, a small frown on his face.

"Look at all those colors, Buck!"

Pastels and acrylics, steel nib fountain pens and piles of hand-bound sketchbooks. The woman selling them looked up from her novel when he didn't move for a whole minute, his eyes fixed on the notebooks.

"You can pick 'em up if you can't decide, you know," she said.

He nodded, blinked, almost embarrassed at the way his fingers shook as he picked up one of the books. It was bound in blue linen, and the deckle edged pages stuck to his gloves.

"You draw?" the woman asked, in a way that was more politeness than actual interest.

"My friend did," Bucky found himself saying.

Hands covered in charcoal. The smell of paper and something else.

"How dare you!" A laugh, carelessly loud and graceless. The most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. "My nose looks nothing like that!"

The memory passed through him softly, almost dreamlike, and for a second, he didn't know whether he wanted to cry or scream. He did neither.

The woman was looking at him strangely, but she accepted the note he handed her for the sketchbook, even though it wasn't Sterling.

"Young man," she called after him, and he almost wanted to laugh. "You're gonna need this, too." And she handed him a pen, as if she'd known, as if there was something in his face that told her how lost he felt.

It was cheap, surely, but it was also the first gift he'd gotten in decades, and so he kept it in his chest pocket. Right above his heart.

***

The next memory came not too long after that.

He was sitting in a rundown coffee shop in Edinburgh, barely paying attention to the room around him while he tried putting his past onto the page. The book was filling so achingly slowly it made him want to throw it against a wall most days.

A good chunk of it was about Steve.

Bucky supposed that was to be expected, because he'd been the one to first make him remember, and because it was Steve.

So page after page was detailing pneumonias and ill-fitting jackets and bruised knuckles in Bucky's narrow writing, trying to piece together a life that should have stayed his. It was desperate work, futile work most days, but he tried anyway.

And then the caf�� owner switched stations on the old, dusty radio in the corner, and there was the song.

It took only a couple of notes until the images struck like lightning.

Swinging skirts and heels clacking on wooden floors. The smell of sweat and hairspray and something else. Something like May bells.

"You're quite good at this, aren't you?" Hands tightening around his neck in the most pleasant embrace.

"Only as good as my partner."

How could a simple hum sound so content? "And I ain't exactly called Rogers, either. But you’re the one leading."

"And thank God for both."

A dip, a scream. And that laugh again. He wanted to bottle it up and get drunk on it for the rest of eternity.

When the song ended, Bucky was shaking with it. He'd broken the pen in his hand, and the dark ink smeared all over his palm like black blood.

He didn’t do so well with presents these days.

***

He remembered your name when he heard a mother call out for her child in a park and it stopped him in his tracks because the corners of his mouth started to lift on their own accord. It was like you were muscle memory, your name so deeply ingrained that his body remembered you long before his mind could catch up.

And your name.

Whispered in darkened picture theaters until your skin prickled with goosebumps, shouted across dance halls sweltering with heat, spoken with reverence on dizzying fair rides. Bucky’d said it again, and again, and again, and for so long he couldn’t think of anything sweeter than the taste of it on his tongue.

He tried it out now, and it came out like ash.

The sound of his name on your lips came to him only hours later, because he kept prodding at that part of his mind that kept you hidden from him, kept trying to unlock the gate to his forgotten memories until finally it slid open an inch.

He was trying to make dinner.

He’d not had a warm meal for weeks at that point, but the past few days had been good and he’d bought vanilla extract for pancakes. The sugary smell filled his tiny apartment, but he didn’t even notice at first, not until he opened the window and then turned back to the stove.

“Bucky.”

Like a breath of air that echoed from deep within until it reached him and left him shaken.

He said your name again, called it into the silence of the room. It didn’t answer him.

He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than going crazy, and so he breathed in again.

“James! It’s almost nine, we’re gonna be late.” Nails drumming against the wood of a dresser. You’d painted it with flowers, purple and blue and yellow. Beautiful.

“And whose fault is that, sweetheart?”

His fingers wrapping around your waist, pulling you close, so young, so human. Your perfume, soft and lingering mist-like between you, and something else. Something like Christmas morning.

Smiles had come so easy to him back then. “I’ve been sittin’ by the door for a good twenty minutes now, waitin’ anxiously for you to finish up.”

“If you’re getting so anxious over me, you needn’t have waited, Buck.”

“I’d wait my whole life if it went you’re comin’ down the stairs, sweetheart.”

He hadn’t noticed he’d slid to the floor, trembling.

The pancakes burned.

***

Your name was so much and yet so little at the same time.

Bucky tried finding any record of you, in libraries, newspaper archives, even using a computer once he figured out how to go online. But you’d been a normal girl, a lovely, perfect, beautiful, normal girl. That had never been enough for the history books.

He had to put you together again himself, slowly. The smallest details took him months.

You would always get holes in your tights and scold him for prodding at them. You used to hate getting your picture taken, but you would benignly let Steve draw you as long as he kept you entertained. You’d liked dancing, and flowers, and sweet things, and somehow, inexplicably, you’d liked him.

“You are the worst date I’ve ever had.”

The taste of whipped cream and chocolate on your lips, and the feeling of your fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck. That little sound at the back of your throat.

“You were saying, sweetheart?”

Bucky’s hand balled into a fist. It wasn’t fair.

The worst part was that you were barely more than the memory of a beautiful dream, hazy and blurred. He was well aware he didn’t deserve good things anymore, but these faint half-images collecting in his brain were nothing short of cruel.

"I can't remember her face,” he told the only person who might have understood, because he himself didn’t. “Why can I remember every single person that I had to ...” He trailed off, dragging his hand over his face. “And yet I can't remember her face?"

Steve's hand was on his shoulder, a gesture that should feel comforting in its familiarity. Instead, Bucky had never felt this small in his own skin.

Wrong shoulder.

"I'll see what I can do," Steve said calmly, but there was a helplessness in his voice that made Bucky’s stomach churn.

It wasn’t supposed to spill out of his own eyes.

***

You would have loved Wakandan sunsets.

They were richer, more colorful than the ones Bucky remembered, but maybe that didn’t actually mean much. The beautiful things had a habit of evading him.

Sometimes, he was selfish enough to wish it had stayed that way, because at least in forgetting, he hadn’t known to miss anything at all. Years and decades worth of lack came crashing through to drown him now, more and more frequent, as if they were trying to make up for lost time. Or mocking him.

But you would have loved the sunsets, and so he tried to love them, too, just like he was always meant to do.

“Do you have to leave already?”

A sniff, a petulant sigh, his limbs heavy and warm, but resolve unwavering. He’d fancied himself so smart, then. “You know I do.”

Daybreak kisses that tasted contently like sleep. Slowly untangling his fingers from yours, something cool grazing them.

Steve brought back a small package, and that was all that was left to find of the part of the past that he’d shared with you. A thin stack of official papers, the dog tags he’d worn in Austria, and a ring.

Bucky sat down.

He knew, rationally, that you were long gone even before he saw the official documents. He’d never expected you to wait for him when it had always been the other way around. Still, to read it so plainly was like his insides were being twisted into the tightest knot, and his heart, his carefully guarded heart that had only just started to remember its own rhythm stuttered painfully. Like it was sick of this whole dance, the waiting, the longing for something so out of reach. So lost to time.

He didn’t want this, any of this, but there was nothing he could do but stare and wait for his vision to clear.

“There’s something else,” Steve said, his voice far away like he’d been wrapped in cotton. “Do you remember the house?”

A rickety porch swing and a picket fence that needed bleaching. Thorny rose bushes blooming in all your favorite colors. Two spare rooms.

“Are we going to be hostin’ a lot of guests, then?” That smug little curl of your lip he liked to kiss.

“I hope not.” Arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. Always the same gesture, as familiar as the smell. Vanilla and peonies, and something else. “We could find a more permanent use, don’t you think?”

“She kept it. It’s still there.”

Bucky traced the letters of your name with his thumb as if somehow, somewhere, you might have felt the familiar caress. It looked lonely there, all on its own.

Maybe it was lucky that he’d long run out of screams, because he might have never stopped.

“Thank you,” he said, and even though it didn’t seem sufficient, Steve nodded.

Bucky threaded your ring onto the chain of his dog tags and closed it around his neck before he hid them under his vest, the metal like a ghostly touch over his heart.

***

It took Bucky five more years to make it back to New York. Well. Five more years passed.

He’d lost so many of them it didn’t even seem to matter at this point.

The slip of paper had been kept inside an envelope he’d found between the books in Steve’s apartment, waiting for him, just like he’d said it would. At least some things were still there.

The bus drive took an eternity, but his feet found their way on their own accord. They’d known it well, once, after all.

He thought the hardest part would be to turn around the final corner and see it again, but that wasn’t it. He’d dreaded the drawn shades, the overgrown garden, the withered flowers, the faded paint on the front door. Dreading things made them easier to bare, sometimes, he’d learned that.

No, the hardest part was seeing the sign. Cottage for sale.

And the quiet.

The mailbox was battered from decades of wind and weather, but underneath the rust he could still see the remnants of your handprint, cracked golden yellow on the dark metal. It disappeared under his vibranium fingers.

“See? We left our mark now. We have to stay here forever.”

He found the key still inside. He used to scold you for leaving it so recklessly, but you kept losing every spare you got made, and besides, times were different, then. You knew the neighbors. So did he.

“Don’t forget, it’s Mrs Hopper’s birthday on Wednesday, and you promised to mow her lawn.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“And the Sawyers asked if you could take a look at their furnace, because it’s been acting up.”

“You’d think they’d hire a professional for that sorta thing.”

“Maybe you’re just nicer to look at.”

The plot next door had been leveled. The curtains in all the other houses were drawn, even though it was a lovely spring evening.

Bucky’s steps were heavy as he climbed the steps to the red front door. It was like he could hear whispers coming from all sides, his head pounding with the weight of something that was not quite there yet, not quite clear, not quite something.

The key slid into the lock.

“Leave your shoes outside, Buck, you’ll track mud everywhere.”

He almost did.

The first step inside was like going through the looking glass and finding himself in a world so different, and yet so familiar. Because he didn’t recognize the painting on the wall, or the color of the cabinets, or the rug next to the stairs.

But there was that smell. Vanilla and peonies. Something like baking and spring, something like home.

He carefully pulled the door closed behind him, the floorboards softly creaking. Dust billowed.

And then more memories came rushing in, as if they'd been waiting for the moment he crossed the threshold.

"Ready?"

"Yes!" He could feel your cheeks lift in a smile and grinned as he slowly pulled his hands away from your eyes. Could feel the gasp that fell from your lips as you took in the sight in front of you.

"Do you like it?"

"Are you kidding me? I love it!"

“I love you.”

He thought he saw movement just out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned, it was only his own grave reflection staring back at him out of one of the dirty windows. Still, he couldn’t help but feel like the ghosts of the past were surrounding him.

“There you are,” they seemed to say. “What took you so long?”

“Just picking up something sweet for my best girl.”

“This is exactly why I’m gonna marry you.”

“Just that? Really? What about my other qualities?”

“Those I tolerate.”

The plates his ma had given you, the porcellain chipped with decades of use, stacked neatly in the cabinets, gathering dust. Your favorite brass pot was out next to the sink, as if you’d just left it there to dry, intending to use it again in a couple of hours.

In the living room, the horrible curtains your aunt had forced upon you had finally disappeared, and despite everything, Bucky could feel himself smile. The bookshelf was still overflowing.

“We’re gonna run out of space soon, you know that, right?”

“Well, build me a new shelf, then!”

Another promise he’d broken.

He had to go upstairs. He knew it, even though every single cell of his body was screaming at him not to go.

Seventeen steps. The second to last was the one that creaked.

Deciding which door to open first was like choosing his own hell. In the end, the house decided for him, because the wailing behind the one to the far right sounded so alive he almost bolted through the entrance.

It had been locked, and Bucky only realized why when it was already too late.

It was the most desolate room yet, cobwebbed and stale, furniture hidden underneath white linens. A dusty wooden mobile dangled from the ceiling, trembling as the house settled, casting eery shadows over the dirtied green walls.

“Aren’t you a bit overzealous there, love?” He dotted some green on your nose and you shrieked.

“Do you wanna be caught unawares?”

“As far as I know, there’s a bit of a preparation period involved.”

“Hm. Maybe we should just get a head start, then.”

He couldn’t bear it a second time, so he took a lung full of stale air and opened the bedroom door.

“I love you, I love you, I love you!”

Everything smelled like you, had your loving touch on it, had been allowed to live alongside you for all this time when he hadn’t been. The wilted flowers in the vase by the window. A book on the nightstand, your bookmark tucked between the pages because you weren’t quite done with it yet.

You weren’t done yet.

A pair of reading glasses lay on top of it, and Bucky almost laughed because he couldn’t quite picture you wearing them, and then, suddenly, he realized he could picture you, and his hand reached out blindly because he remembered that it was there.

“You know I hate these things.”

He didn’t let go of your hand for a second. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t you want me to have something’a yours to keep me company?”

Your laugh, again, and again. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

The bed creaked softly when he sat down on its edge, the frame shaking in his grip, and hey. There you were.

There was your smile.

It seemed to echo, or maybe he only wished it did.

“I’ll be back so soon, you won’t even notice I’m gone, sweetheart.”

“You better.”

The way you looked at him. Like you really believed him when he told the both of you that everything was going to be fine. That you would be the lucky ones. The exception.

He hated himself for letting you hope, but maybe this was his punishment; to be the one left behind, despite everything.

“I’m sorry,” he must have said, or cried, or screamed, because the house repeated it back to him, over and over.

“I’m sorry.”

And then, there was nothing.

anyone else need a tissue?

thank you so much for reading!! if you liked this, please consider leaving a comment or a reblog, or just come scream at me in my inbox. to see the less heartbreaking rest of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications <3

[make-me-imagine]

Moments In Time

Trope: Angry/Mean One is in love with the Happy/Sunshine One Plot: A collection of moments in time, showing the opposite sides of Bucky and Y/n, and how opposites attract in the best way possible.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Warnings: Brief mentions of violence/fighting, blood. Nothing in detail.

Words: 1.8k

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo Bucky and Marvel Taglists: @cosplayingwitch, @trashywritestrash, @resplendentlady, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @mochamoff, @simsiddy, @peter-parkers-cullen-nerd, @flourishandblotts-inc

*Honestly could not think of a good plot for this trope, and didn't have much motivation while writing it, so this is all I could really come up with.

-

"I don't get how you can be so optimistic still." Bucky grumbled as he pulled open the door to the hotel.

You shrugged slightly as you looked over at him from your shoulder, water droplets falling down your face. "I like the rain."

"Even after our car gets destroyed and we have to walk two miles through it to get to civilization?"

You smiled at him. "Yep, even after that."

Bucky rolled his eyes as you turned to the woman at the front desk, but he felt a smile tug at his lips as he thought about how much of a good mood you were still in. He envied it sometimes. How you could see the good in anything, no matter how bad the situation.

"Oh dear, you two certainly got stuck in the storm didn't you." The older woman at the desk looked over the two of you with concern. "No luggage?"

You shook your head, "Nope, just got lost in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Ah, I see. Well we have nice hot water, so you can get warmed up. Let me get you a room."

"Two if you have them. Or a double room." You said politely and the women looked between the two of you.

"Oh, I apologize, I assumed you were a couple."

You glanced at Buck quickly, before taking a key from the woman. Bucky took his key as well, thanking her, before the two of you made your way to the elevators.

Bucky couldn't help the thoughts that ran through his head as you made your way into the elevators. If that woman assumed you were a couple, how many others did? Bucky felt the back of his neck burning as he looked over at you, almost ashamed at how much he had hoped you were a couple.

When the elevator opened, you hopped out to go to your room. Before the door closed, you spun around and met Bucky's eyes. "After we get warm and dry wanna get something to eat together?"

Your eyes were shining, still energetic and happy after the long exhausting day the two of you had. The perfect opposite of Bucky's tired, dark eyes. Bucky smiled softly and nodded his head. "Sure. See you then."

As the elevator door slid shut, Bucky could still see your smiling face in his mind. 'Maybe one day' he thought to himself.

- - - - - - - -

"I told you we didn't need a plan." Sam said a bit smugly as he started to remove his armor.

Bucky let out a huff of air through his nose as he looked over at Sam. "It would have went smoother if we did."

"Well there's no point in thinking about it now is there?" Sam watched as Bucky shook his head in annoyance. Sam smiled a bit to himself before commenting "Ya know, even though I'm glad you and Y/n are together now, I cannot get over how two people that are so completely different can be so perfect together. I would have hoped Y/n's bubbly personality and softness would have rubbed off on you by now."

Bucky looked over at Sam, ready to retort, but stopped short when the door swung open. As you walked swiftly into the room Sam raised his arms up, "Ah, speak of the devil."

"You talking about me Sam?" You asked with an amused tone.

He smiled at you. "I was just wondering how it is you can deal with this guy over here. Always in a bad mood, always mumbling, always grumbling. You're more patient than I could ever be."

You smiled at Sam before looking over at Bucky, seeing him avoiding your gaze. "I don't know Sam. You'd be surprised at the sides of him you don't see." Bucky glanced over at you and you looked back at Sam. "And maybe if you would stop running head first into fights without a plan, he wouldn't be so grumpy."

Sam opened his mouth in subtle offense as Bucky looked over at him. "See?"

Sam flapped his hands at you, letting out a "pssh" in response. "Maybe you two do have more in common than I thought."

You chuckled as you walked over to Bucky, brushing your finger lightly over a cut on his chin. He met your eyes, his soft gaze telling you he was alright.

Bucky often thought that you weren't suited for him. That he wasn't good enough for you. But he knew that no matter if he wasn't good enough he could never get himself to give you up. Not when you looked at him like that.

- - - - - - - -

Bucky had a reputation for being stoic, disgruntled, maybe even angry. Mostly because people tended to get on his bad side, or drug him into situations he wanted nothing to do with.

But sometimes, when no one else was around, and he was comfortable, he was the perfect opposite.

Soft, gentle, caring, romantic.

The way he would carry you to bed if you were too tired to make it. The long tight hugs from behind when he would shove his head into the crook of your neck.

The way he would gently clean and wrap your wounds when you got hurt. Or the soft voice he would use when you didn't feel good, or were having a bad day.

When he would bring you flowers, or your favorite movie to cheer you up or make you smile. Show you his favorite songs or movies. Dance with you in the living room, chest to chest.

These were the moments you held between the two of you. These were the parts of him he showed you and almost no one else.

So no matter how many times people pointed out the "bad" parts. The anger, the bad moods, the pessimistic thoughts. You knew that was not everything he was. And even if it was, you knew that you would still love him. Because he was him.

- - - - - - - -

Just as Bucky had his soft and happy sides that many did not see. You had your rough edges and inner anger.

You were always afraid people would look at you differently if they ever saw this side. You were afraid, that they would be afraid.

But Bucky did not see this as a weakness, he saw it as a strength. One, that when when utilized could save anyone in need. He was surprised at the hidden anger, the hidden power beneath the surface, but he was never afraid.

When someone was in danger, you were always there. To fight as hard as you could to save them. Whether that left you with blood on your hands, a wound to your body, or a weapon used, you were prepared if it meant saving the innocent.

This side did not come out often, but when it did, you were often left exhausted. Bucky told you it was the rain after the storm. To go with it, let it take you. To remind you of the toll, so you don't lose control of it.

He was never afraid of it. Never afraid you were some bomb ready to go off like some had said before. He saw the bright happiness and beauty in every part of you. And to him, that underlying darkness, that storm, was just as beautiful as the rest.

- - - - - - - -

Bucky hated it. Hated the intrusive thoughts, the ideas that you would be happier with someone else. Even with him. You smiled at him, laughed at his jokes. You were both happy on the outside, people didn't stare, or wonder why you would be together. Maybe it would be better for you this way.

Bucky shook himself from his thoughts as you came over to him, leaving the man behind. Bucky turned and began to walk with you to leave together.

You saw the way Bucky shoved his thoughts away, the subtle changed in his face as he smiled at you. Something was wrong, and he was hiding it. He had been hiding it for some time now, and enough was enough.

As soon as you got to Buck's apartment, you cornered him. "Are you gonna tell me what's going on, or do I have to get it out of you the hard way?"

Bucky blinked, silent as he stared at you. "What?" He finally asked, dumbfounded by the sudden interrogation.

"I can tell something has been going on Bucky. You've been a lot quieter recently, not telling me anything, something is clearly bothering you, that you haven't told me about, which makes me think it is me that's wrong."

"What? No. You've done nothing." Bucks voice was soft, but defensive. He stepped forward, placing his hands on your shoulders.

"Then what is it that you can't tell me, or talk to me about? I mean, did something happen? Have you been getting nightmares again, what?"

Bucky was alarmed at the near panic in your eyes as you spoke. He sighed, hanging his head for a minute. "Nothing happened, not like that at least. I just...I can't help but think.."

"What?" You asked softly when he didn't continue.

"I just-" he sighed as he stepped away from you, turning around. "The more often I see you with that guy at work. The way you smile and laugh with him. I-I can't help these thoughts that take over. Telling me that you would be happier with someone else. I mean, I'm-" He turned back to you as he gestured vaguely at himself. "I'm, well, me."

"Which is exactly why I love you." You said with mild exasperation, walking up to him, you placed your hands on his chest. "Bucky, do you not see how you are with people? You may come off stand offish at times, but people like you. You are blunt, but honest. You are kind, even through the grumbling. You make friends with some of the softest people. I laugh and smile with you all the time. Are you telling me that you don't see that anymore? Or is it that you never have?"

Bucky squinted as he thought about what you were saying. You were right. He wasn't as closed off as he used to be, it's not as hard for him to be himself around others, or even strangers. But he still thinks of himself as that person.

"I-I guess not, I just...don't you want me to be...more?"

You smiled sadly at him as you brought your hands to his face. "I want you exactly as you are Bucky."

He smiled at you, bringing up his hand, he gently brushed his fingers down your cheek. "I guess I just got in my own head."

"Yeah. You do that sometimes."

He let out a soft chuckle as he leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours. "I love you, you know that."

"Of course I do. And I love you. Always will."

xx End xx

[nyx22-blogs]

•Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You•

Heavily based off of the song Can't take my eyes off of you, by Frankie Valli

You're just too good to be true...

Since Bucky moved into the tower everything was a bit better. He had Steve again, he had a life again. He was even happy to have Sam.. he'd never admit it though. But if there was one thing that made his day it was you. Everyday, Bucky went to a coffee shop down the block. He wasn't necessarily the biggest fan coffee, but he went there to see you. You were the waitress/barista there and you were just so alluring. The prettiest smile he'd ever seen, lively eyes that seemed to somehow sparkle, a voice that could only be described as one that belonged to an angel. He loved how you never viewed the people who came to your shop as customers, but friends that you saw everyday. Especially the regulars, which was Bucky. You were so kind to Bucky, always saying hi to him when you could, sometimes sneaking off from the counter when the stop was calm to ask him how his day was. There were some days where you went as far as to write a 'have a good day' message on his coffee when he had to leave early. He truly liked you and he always thought to himself everyday that you were just too good to be true.

Can't take my eyes off of you...

It bothered Bucky the way he could never truly carry a conversation with you. Sure it was always a hi, hello, how was your day, any plans? But he couldn't say how he felt, he couldn't say that he wanted to take you out on a date, or that the new blouse you bought looked beautiful with the apron you wore. He couldn't even say how gorgeous you looked. And sure, the only reason he couldn't say that was because there truly wasn't a word in the English language that described your beauty...but still. So what did he do instead of talking to you? He looked at you. He'd just observe the way you handled everyone's order with care, the way you laughed when the old lady from across the street would complain about all the little boys who ran around in her yard, even though you knew she loved their company. He watched how you always snuck in little sweet treats for the group of 7 year old girls that visited the shop after school. Quite a few times when he'd look away to drink his coffee or just think about something, he'd catch you staring at him as well. He remembers one time where he caught you looking at him, while you were stirring some cinnamon into a cup of coffee. He had looked at you and smiled, he smiled even bigger when you blushed and looked away, continuing to talk to another customer. These were the little moments that sparked some hope and courage in him. He just couldn't take his eyes off of you.

You'd be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much...

Bucky remembers the first time he "held" your hand. You had come over to his table in the corner to give him his coffee. You sat down to talk to him for a bit as well. You had done most of the talking, Bucky mostly just sat down and listened to your honey-sounding voice. When you told him you had to go you both had said your goodbyes, but your apron had gotten stuck between some of the open metal from the coffee table. You had rested one of your hands on his to keep yourself from falling and used the other to untie the fabric. When you left afterwards he was stunned. Your hand in his was one of the best feelings he ever had, and god did it feel so right. Like two puzzle pieces that fit, even though that sounds beyond cliché. Your hand was so soft and small, and he had pretty much memorized how it felt. Oh how he wishes he could hold you, instead of just your hand, like that. Sometimes Bucky could just imagine your arms wrapped around his torso, his hands around your back. It would feel amazing. In all honesty you'd be like heaven to touch, he wanted to hold you so much.

At long last love has arrived, and I thank God I'm alive...

Bucky had pretty much known you for about 5 months now. That was an appropriate time to wait to ask someone out.. right? He thought this in his head over and over again as he made his way to the Cafe. Going over all the possible scenarios in his head, he walked down the block and into the familiar-smelling cafe. Bucky saw you talking to another customer so he stood at the door and waited for you to finish. It was around 8:30 p.m., which was around closing time for you now. The customer walked out the door and you had turned around to gather your things. He walked up to you and said your name.

"Y/n?" You turned around in surprise, not expecting him to be here so late.

"Oh, Bucky. Hey. Where were you today? You usually come earlier." You said smiling. You'd never tell anyone but you missed him today, and you were worried when he didn't come in.

"I was uhm, helping a friend with something, and I couldn't come." What bucky said wasn't a complete lie. He was helping a friend, Steve actually. He was with Steve most of the day, helping out with old mission reports and filling some out.

"Oh, ok. Well uhm, is there any reason you came so late? I mean not that I didn't want to see you..I did actually but that not the point-" You stopped abruptly, trying not to further embarrass yourself.

"Yeah..you're the reason I came so late Y/N."

You looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that ever since met you I didn't have to try to be happy anymore. Just a smile on your face made my day Y/N. And..and I'd like to take you out on a date..of that's ok." Bucky said, his nerves starting to show.

"Bucky...yes. Yes, I'd love to go out with you." You said happily, running into his arms and hugging him tightly..arms wrapping around his torso and his wrapping around your back. It was exactly how he envisioned it, lovely and everything he'd ever want. You were all he would ever want. At long last his love has arrived, he thanked God he was still alive.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

AHHHHHHHH OMG I LOVE THIS AND YES I KINDA BLUSHED WRITING IT???

~A girl who is currently kicking her feet and giggling like an idiot 😁

[sapphosvioletts]

No Matter What

Bucky Barnes x Autistic daughter

Request:

i was wondering, could i request tfaws bucky barnes x autistic teen!reader. where she sees him when he goes back to the winter solider in that bar, and she gets scared of him and he has to comfort her

Word count: 1,213

Warnings: anxiety, mention of sensory overload

Note: Not every autistic person experiences autism the same. I'm autistic and I am writing from my perspective of how I personally experience autism, but not everyone feels the same as me or has the same perspective as I do.

.oOo.

My eyes anxiously dart around the bar, not very fond of how many people there are here, but not letting my nervousness show on my face. I have to keep up the confident facade to not draw suspicion to us, as well as to look old enough to even be in the bar.

I stand close to Bucky, feeling very uncomfortable with all of the people. I try not to flinch every time someone brushes up against me or yells loudly. Out of view from the bartender, Bucky puts his hand on my back in an attempt to comfort me. He knows how anxious social situations can make me, and right now it seems like I'm just in a room of sensory nightmares.

When I hear Zemo say "Winter Soldier" in Russian, it feels like my body freezes. I know that my dad has been un programmed and he wouldn't turn into the Winter Soldier, but for a moment I completely forget about that. I was with Bucky in Hydra, that's how we met. I knew him as the Winter Soldier, I've seen first hand what he is capable of.

Even as the Winter Soldier, he never hurt me though. That should lessen my fears of him, but it doesn't. The Winter Soldier is someone I haven't seen in a long time, and although he didn't hurt me, I didn't want to see him again.

When Zemo says the words "Attack", Bucky launches forward towards the man and starts fighting him. I suck in a breath at seeing him, biting my lip to keep my tears from falling. I need to get out of here, I can't watch Bucky do this. I can't watch how he does the same moves he did in Hydra, or how emotionless his face is.

I check to make sure the bartender isn't looking at me before ducking through the crowd and running away. I run out of the bar and down the street, just wanting to get away. I run until my lungs start to burn, and once my legs are too shaky to keep going, I finally stop.

I didn't even pay attention to where I was going, and somehow I can't find it in myself to care. Normally going anywhere alone makes me anxious, but I think I just have too much on my mind to think about what I had just done.

I sit down on a bench on the side of the street and pull my knees up to my chest, hugging them tightly. I look around and notice a couple shops, but they aren't very busy and are pretty spread out from each other, giving me at least a little privacy even though I'm on the side of the open road.

I rest my head on my knees and just try to get rid of the thoughts and images in my head. I know that it was Bucky, not the Winter Soldier, but it reminded me too much of my time at Hydra. Those cold eyes and emotionless face seemed all too familiar, even though I tried so hard to forget about them.

I rock back and forth as I just look off at nothing, stuck in my thoughts and trying to make sense of what I'm even feeling. I ignore the tears running down my cheeks as I continuer rocking, my hands shaking and hitting my legs.

.oOo.

Even though Bucky was fighting someone, he still noticed how I ran away. He felt terrible, he knew that I got scared. He didn't want to do this either, but he had no choice. He was relieved when Zemo finally ordered him to stop, although he didn't show it on his face.

All he wanted was to chase after me, show me that he isn't the Winter Soldier anymore, but he can't. He feels so torn on what to do, but ultimately it's Zemo pushing him forward with a rough hand that forces him to make a decision, one that he desperately doesn't want to do.

He keeps his cold demeanor through the talk with Selby, but his mind wanders to me. He doesn't even know where I am or if I'm okay, and not even to mention I'm in a new place all alone.

Through fighting all of the people angry at them for killing Selby, I was on Bucky's mind the whole time, it was his motivation to make it out. Even when Sharon showed up he couldn't find it in him to even react, his only thoughts were to make sure I was okay.

While Sharon is talking, he picks up on a small sniffle. He could tell it was a little far away, but still close, and he could only pick it up because of his super hearing. "I hear her." He mumbles to Sam before running off, knowing that Sam knew he was talking about me. He could see Sam's worried eyes when he first noticed I was gone, even though he wouldn't admit it, he had a soft spot for me and cared about me.

Bucky ran towards the sniffles until he could see the curled up figure on the bench, rocking back and forth. He slowed down to not scare me, and once he was close enough he spoke gently, "Hey doll." My head shot up, my body tense.

He kneels down next to the bench in front of me. All I can do is just stare at him. "It's me, it's Bucky." He says. For some reason those were the words I needed to hear, they were so simple and maybe even obvious to others, but that was all I needed.

I swung my legs off the bench and crashed into him, my arms hugging his shoulders as I sat on the bench, leaning into him. He wrapped his own arms around me, ignoring the pain in his knees from kneeling on the gravel and rocks. He rubbed my back and let me cry into his shoulder.

Eventually I feel myself being picked up as Bucky stands up with me in his arms. He sits on the bench with me on his lap, neither of us caring how childish it may seem to others. He soothingly starts to rock us side to side, aware of how relaxing that stim is for me.

His eyes water as he comforts me, feeling terrible that he was the one who did this. He took a while to think about what to say, the only sounds coming from my occasional sobs and sniffles.

"I'm sorry I scared you, doll. But I promise you, the Winter Soldier is gone. You're safe, I'll always make sure of it. I love you so much, I could never let anything bad happen to you." He hugs me tighter as he speaks and all I can do is nod.

Eventually Sharon, Sam, and Zemo found us, but Bucky stops them before they can speak with a hard glare. They all stop in their tracks. He leans down and whispers in my ear, "We gotta get going, but I promise I'll keep you safe, no matter what."

He can't help but smile when he hears a soft mumble of "No matter what." In response.

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

Hi can I request a peter parker x barnes-Rogers reader (steve and Bucky's daughter) and me and Peter find out I'm pregnant with Peter's baby and we try to keep it a secret but everyone is suspicious of us cause I've been really poorly lately and Peter is being overprotective and one day Peter accidentally says "don't do that it could hurt the baby" or "and everyone freaks out and me, Peter and my dads have a long talk but everything is fine thanks xx

Unexpected

Pairing: Peter Parker x Barnes-Rogers! Reader

Requested?: Yes!

Word count: Almost 7k

Warnings: Pregnancy, some angst but thats it I think?

Author's Note: Yessssss this was so fun to write! Very excited to be back to posting on this page again. Thank you so much for the request! Hope to start adding in more content soon, so if yall have any requests feel free to send them in! And if you have requests sent in already, know that I love you and I will be getting to clearing out my inbox here pretty soon 🥰

Taglist: @just-that-bi-girl , @winterfrostsarmy

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

In retrospect, the entire team should have realized what was going on with you a lot sooner. To their credit, most of them had noticed that something was different about you, but other than Nat and Wanda none of them had a guess as to what exactly that was. 

The men appeared completely clueless in respect to the cause of the recent changes in you. Even Clint, a married father of three, hadn't caught on even after he'd seen you leaving the bathroom having clearly just thrown up. Tony had been the closest to figuring it out of the all men, having noticed your odd mood swings and crying fits as they became more and more frequent. He noted the same behavioral pattern as he'd found himself stuck in after the Battle of New York, and secretly worried for your mental well-being. He hadn't felt comfortable enough to broach the topic with you just yet though, instead opting to watch you from a distance for the time being. 

The women, however, seemed to understand almost instantly what was going on. Nat had figured things out once she realized that you had been skipping training lately and noticed that you and Peter barely appeared to leave one another's sides for even a moment. Wanda based her guess almost solely upon the fact that she could just feel that something was different about you; your entire energy had changed in the last few weeks and she noted it even before Peter had. Both women had their suspicions, but had seemingly agreed to keep their thoughts to themselves until you were ready to tell the team what was going on. 

Your dads were a different story altogether. 

It took Steve and Bucky much longer to notice something had changed with their daughter, Steve longest of all. Either you'd done a great job of avoiding your Pops or he'd been incredibly unobservant (or more likely both), but he hadn't seen anything that he would've considered out of the ordinary for you. 

That is, until today. 

"AAAAUUUUUUGGGGH"

Steve was on his feet in an instant, sprinting into the kitchen at the sound of your enraged scream. He skidded to a stop and surveyed the room with a trained look for the source of danger, but found none. In fact, you and Sam were the only two in the space as far as he could tell. Sam's back was pressed snugly against the furthermore countertop as you practically cornered him, the older man clearly caught off guard by your sudden burst of rage. You flung your hands around wildly as you yelled, one gripping a box so tightly that your knuckles were beginning to turn a concerning shade of white.

Completely bewildered, Steve watched in stunned silence for moment as you fumed and screamed expletives at the slightly-terrified looking Sam, without any clear indication as to what had happened. 

"I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE YOU, YOU GODDAMNED ASSHO-"

"Y/N Barnes-Rodgers!" Steve scolded you finally, momentarily stopping your verbal assault. "What in God's name is going on here?" 

Your eyes turned to your Pops' briefly before flickering back to glare in Sam's direction. 

"Pigeon-brain ate the last of my oreos," you seethed, walking forward and jabbing an accusatory finger to Sam's chest, his hands instantly flying upwards in surrender.

 Steve felt his jaw drop in utter disbelief.

“You-,” 

“What’s with all the commotion in here?” Bucky interrupted, striding into the kitchen much as Steve had moments ago and joining his husband's side with a confused look on his face. Steve crossed his arms and frowned at their daughter. 

“Apparently our daughter is screaming at Sam because he ate her cookies.” your Pops explained tersely.

“Not cookies, oreos,” you muttered, glare never wavering from Sam. You furiously threw the offending empty package roughly at his still bewildered face in lieu of another expletive. Sam was evidently so bewildered, in fact, that he didn't even flinch as the box hit his head and bounced pathetically to the floor. 

Bucky raised his eyebrow. 

“And that’s why you’ve been screaming like that?” he confirmed. You nodded, arms crossing your chest stubbornly. 

Bucky shrugged, looking towards his husband with a look of indifference. “Makes sense.”

“No, it absolutely does not make sense,” Steve lightly scolded, glancing at Bucky with a pointed look before returning his gaze to you. “Y/N you’re completely overreacting. Apologise to Sam right now.”

Your mouth dropped open, and you gaped at your dads with an expression that was equal parts betrayal and rage. 

“No.”

“No?” Steve repeated incredulously. He stared at you with disbelief, looking between you and Bucky like he was hoping he’d somehow misheard you. You met his glance with an equally stubborn look as you planted your feet solidly beneath you and tightened the cross of your arms. “What do you mean, no?”

“You heard me,” you spat, unwavering. 

Sam merely looked confused as he watched the two of you argue, if albeit still a bit scared, but Bucky was sure his shock was evident on his face. You never back-sassed your Pops, not even when you were really angry, and Bucky only felt his disbelief grow at the prospect that your attitude was all due to a few cookies. 

"Y/N, you don't get to tell me no," Steve ground out carefully, voice stern with a rare sort of parental authority he seldom had to use with you. In fact, Bucky was pretty sure he hadn't actually heard him use this particular tone since way back when you were a toddler testing the limits of your dads' patience. But unlike your three-year-old self, you didn't back down at your Pops' disapproving tone; in fact, you met his intense stare with a flippant roll of your eyes, deepening your dad's shock at your abrupt behavioral shift. 

"He fucking knows what he did, everyone knows those oreos are mine," you snapped, eyes alight with a kind of fury the likes of which your dads had never seen from you before. 

"Language!" Steve gasped at his daughter, his authoritative tone giving way to a spluttering one of complete disbelief. 

"FUCK OFF!" you shouted instantly. 

"HEY!"

Bucky had officially had enough. Irritation blossomed deep within his chest at the hurt he saw wash through his husband's eyes at your vulgar screech. Teenaged angst was one thing, but it was entirely another to blatantly disrespect Steve like you were. He still didn't know what was really causing you to act like this--because no way in hell could this be all over some oreos-- but he'd definitely passed the point where he even cared. 

"Doll, that’s enough. Clearly you're upset, but you cannot speak to your Pops like that," he practically growled. You turned your attention to your dad with the same kind of indignant irritation in your eyes, a flash of fresh anger rolling across your face at the sight of Bucky's equally irate expression. 

"You can fuck off too," you spat.

 Bucky's jaw clenched dangerously, the muscle in his cheek jumping and twitching as he took in his daughter's crass retort. Sam had long since left the scene, the nearly suffocating tension officially too much for him to take. Steve's eyes went wide for what felt like the millionth time since he'd first walked into the kitchen. If he hadn't known something was wrong before, he undoubtedly did now. 

You may not disobey him often, but you never snapped at Bucky. 

Steve had long since accepted that, though you loved the two of them the same, you'd always liked Bucky more. A daddy's girl from birth, you and Bucky had always been inseparable-- so for you to now scream and curse at him like this was like a flaming-red flag in Steve's mind. 

Something was definitely wrong. 

"Excuse me?" Bucky hissed. The two of you faced one another, arms crossed and expressions grim. You planted your feet even more solidly underneath you, staring your dad down with a fury so intense it was almost palpable. If it weren't for the overall tension of the situation, Steve might've teased the two of you for your near-mirrored positions. 

"Y/N? What's going on, I thought I heard yelling?" Peter asked as he practically skidded into the kitchen. He immediately joined you, face morphing into a look of utter concern at the sight of yours and Bucky's standoff. Steve braced himself, mentally apologizing to Peter for the verbal assault that was surely coming his way. 

But it never came. 

It was as if all the unwarranted anger was sucked from your body in a rush as soon as you caught sight of your boyfriend. Your face crumpled into an anguished expression, and Steve could see how the tears welled up in your eyes instantaneously. Peter clicked his tongue in pity and you thrust yourself instantly into his awaiting arms. He gripped you tightly, and you eagerly buried yourself further into his embrace. Face smashed tightly against his chest, you began to sob uncontrollably.

Your dads gaped at the scene, wide-eyed. 

"S-sam ate my oreos a-and now everyone's mad at me, and I j-just wanted my snack!" you all but wailed, voice muffled by Peter's body. 

Bucky blinked once as he turned to his husband, total confusion written all over his features. Steve just gaped in response, unable to formulate a semi-coherent thought, let alone words. 

"Oh angel, it's okay," Peter cooed softly into your hair, hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly as you continued to cry. "I can go and get you more oreos; don't cry Y/N/N, I'll just run down to the store right now to get you some."

Lifting your head from his chest, you seemed slightly placated and hopeful as you sniffled and looked up at him. 

"C-can I come with you?" you asked him shyly, tear-stained cheeks turning a slight shade of pink at your childish request. Peter smiled fondly down at you, clearly happy to see that you were feeling better. 

"Of course, it'll be nice to walk with you," he smiled sweetly at you and lightly kissed your nose. You giggled as you removed yourself from his embrace before walking over to your dads. 

"M'sorry I shouted daddys. Love you guys!" you apologized in a chipper voice before kissing both of the men's bewildered cheeks. 

The two supersoldiers both stood in stunned silence as they watched you leave hand in hand with Peter, who briefly shot them an apologetic look before the pair were gone. Steve thought he heard Peter mumbling something to Y/N as they left, but the only words he could pick out were "not good to get so worked up", which only confused him further. 

"What in the hell was that?" Bucky grumbled, face still crinkled with bewilderment. Steve simply shook his head. 

"I have absolutely no idea. I've never seen her behave like that, have you?"

"Nothing like that, but she was acting funny the other day too," he frowned, recalling the scene he'd walked in on just a few days prior. "She was full out sobbing on the couch a few days ago over a toilet paper commercial."

Steve gaped at his husband. 

"Sh-she...what?"

"Doll have you seen your Pops? I can't find him any-"

Bucky's question died in his throat as soon as he hit the threshold of the TV room. You were curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees as sobs racked through you. Peter sat next to you with his eyes crinkled in concern and hands rubbing gently at your shoulders as you cried. 

"Y/N what's wrong, why are you crying?" Bucky asked. Feeling his protective instincts kick in instantly,  he couldn't help but search the room with his eyes in search of any danger. Finding nothing, he narrowed his eyes at your boyfriend.

"Did he do something?" Bucky demanded. "Parker I swear to God if you hurt her I-" 

"What? N-no I didn't do anything Mr. Bucky I swear!" Peter spluttered, eyes widening in fear at the terrifying look in your dad's eyes. 

"Bullshit, then why's she crying like that? Of course you did someth-"

"N-no it's not P-peter dad!" you interrupted tearfully. "There was an ad on TV that just made me emotional okay? You know, the one with the boy crying in the bathroom and his dad offers him toilet paper for his tears?"

There was a beat of silence. 

"Doll, you really mean to tell me that you're sobbing over a toilet paper ad?" Bucky asked, brows furrowed in disbelief. You sniffled as you nodded, and fresh tears began to pick your eyes once more. 

"Yes! I mean it's just so inspiring," you blubbered. "I mean how often do you actually get to see a teenaged boy cry on TV? Never, cause toxic masculinity standards in this stupid patriarchal society we all live in say otherwise! And not only does the dad accept that his son is crying and is allowed to feel real emotions, he sits down to talk with him about them! I just got so happy thinking about all the little boys who will see this ad and feel the validation that they're normal for feeling sad every once in a while!"

Bucky just stared at his daughter with a blank look for a moment; he looked like he was unable to formulate a single response to the information he'd just been given. 

"Well that's...uh….that's great I gue-"

"I can't believe you would just assume that me crying just had to be because of something Peter did," you interrupted, angrily brushing the leftover tears from your face. "It's so unfair, you always blame him for everything!"

"I-uh," Bucky stammered, flustered by the sudden change in your emotions. You scoffed and stood quickly from your spot in Peter's embrace, crossing your arms petulantly. 

"It's true dad, you're always looking for something to yell at him for! It's so biased and unfair," you practically yelled. "Honestly it's such prejudiced bullshit. Some kind of outdated 'lock up your daughters' rhetoric that I can't believe yo…"

At some point during your impassioned speech you began stomping away from both your dad and Peter while still ranting. As your shouts became fainter and fainter Bucky found himself directing his dumbfounded expression at Peter instead. In a rare show of solidarity with your boyfriend, Bucky silently begged for an explanation as to what on earth had just happened. 

Despite the way his heart was hammering wildly in his chest Peter remained silent. He offered only a passive shrug to your dad before he clambered to his feet and began following after you. If Bucky hadn't been caught so off guard he surely would've been suspicious at the visible sweat that was beading on Peter's forehead and the way the young boy's hands trembled as he quickly left the room, the question of what was causing your mood swings laying thickly unanswered in the air. 

"What the fu-"

"She...a toilet paper ad? Really?"

"Yep, a friggin' toilet paper commercial," Bucky nodded solemnly. Steve blinked once, shaking his head. 

"So what did you do?" he asked incredulously. 

"Nothin'," Bucky shrugged. "She was so damned worked up that I figured she needed some space, and by the time I went to talk to her she'd already seemed completely fine. Thought it wasn't worth upsetting her all over again."

Steve snorted. 

"Yeah right, you were just too scared you would make her mad again," he chuckled. 

"Hell yeah I was," Bucky admitted freely, crossing his arms and shooting his husband a defiant expression. "You've seen her, you know how terrifying she can be when she's pissed!"

Steve chuckled once more, shaking his head fondly. 

"Mmmm, and I wonder where she got that from."

Bucky narrowed his eyes and scowled at the implication, a surly look overtaking his features. Steve couldn't help but laugh outright at the expression on his husband's face; it was the exact same face you always made when you were annoyed, right down to the little pout in your lip. 

"For the last time Stevie, she doesn't get that from me," he grumbled. 

"Sure Buck, whatever you say," Steve laughed. 

Though your odd behavior and mood swings were at least now on both your dads' radar, neither had any clue as to the actual reason for your sudden changes. The pair of them chalked up the incidents to little more than teenaged angst, however they had no idea how wrong they were nor just how soon they were about to find out what was really going on. 

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

"I don't understand Y/N," Steve stated carefully. "Why exactly don't you want to go with the team?"

You shifted your weight from foot to foot anxiously, huffing out a breath in mock annoyance and very real frustration. 

You'd been in the training room, lightly working out with Nat and Wanda when your Pops and Tony had walked in to announce that there was an urgent mission that apparently would require the entire team. Internally cursing your timing, you'd tried to sneak out of the room unnoticed, but as your luck would have it, your dad caught you. Now you were stuck arguing with your dads, the attention and curiosity of everyone in the gym directed at you. 

Your heart was thrumming wildly in your chest as you furiously racked your brain for some way, any way, out of this assignment and this conversation without an actual reason. 

Well, a reason you were actually willing to give, that is.

"Why does it even matter?" you snapped, hoping that no one clocked the tremor in your voice. "It's not like you guys even need me anyways."

"Doll, you always jump at the chance to come with us," your dad interjected. "So what's so different about today?"

"I just don't want to," you whined, lying through your teeth. "I'm tired and I don't feel good."

"But you were literally just training?" Sam pointed out. You narrowed your eyes at him, irritation bubbling under the surface of your anxiety at the contradiction. The older man shrank back a bit under your firey gaze, the previous incident in the kitchen clearly prominent in his mind as he stepped behind Wanda. 

Clint snorted. 

"If you could even call that training," he mumbled under his breath. Your jaw dropped. 

"What is this, gang up on Y/N day?!" you sassed as your arms flew to cross your chest defensively. Your Pops shook his head. 

"We're just worried Y/N/N," he reassured, brows furrowed with concern. "You've been behaving very strangely lately, and this is just one more thing."

"Yeah doll," Bucky nodded, agreeing with his husband. "So what gives?"

Your pulse sped up once more at the direct question, a sickening feeling rising in your throat like bile at the realization of just how suspicious your dads were. Unable to think clearly through your panic, you did the only thing you could think of. 

You scoffed in fake disbelief, rolled your eyes, and began stomping out of the room. 

"Y/N Barnes-Rodgers!" your dad shouted in an indignant and angered tone. "We are not done talking about this!" 

Damn. 

"What?!" you whirled around, stomping your foot like a child. "I just don't want to go this time okay?"

Bucky's face turned red at your open defiance, but Steve interrupted before he could even open his mouth to snap back at you. 

"No Y/N it's absolutely not okay," he scolded. You felt the burn of unshed tears prick your eyes as they searched desperately around the room, mind racing to think of an excuse that would get you out of this situation. 

"But-"

"No, no buts Y/N," your dad barked, clearly having composed himself enough to speak once more. His arms were crossed as he glared at you, and the stubbornly annoyed look on his face was enough to make the tears in your eyes begin to fall. A feeling of utter entrapment and fear settled in your chest like a suffocating weight as you felt the hot, fresh tears stream down your cheeks. 

"Doll, are you crying?" your Pops questioned incredulously. "What on earth is going on with you?"

"Nothing! I just can't go today," you blubbered, past the point of being able to hold back your sobs. 

"You can't go, or you won't go?" Bucky asked pointedly, evidently not swayed by your tears. 

"It doesn't matter," you cried desperately. Your dad's eyes bored into yours directly as if he was searching your brain to find out what you were holding back from him. 

"It clearly does matter, otherwise you wouldn't be acting like this," he continued harshly. "I'm not sure what it is you aren't telling us, but I don't even care at this point. Stark said he needs everyone and your Pops told you to go, so you need to get yourself together and go and get ready."

The tears were now cascading down your face in giant streams and your face was growing warmer by the second. You darted your gaze back and forth between the other team members' faces, still searching for some kind of last minute way out of this situation. Finding only curious or concerned expressions, you turned back to your dads with wide eyes. You felt your mouth go dry as your lips open and closed wordlessly, the severity of your current predicament weighing you down more and more by the second. 

"I-"

"No. I don't want to hear another word from you Y/N," your dad snapped. "Go and get ready for the mission now."

"But she can't go!"

Time stopped for a split second as the entire room's heads snapped towards the desperate shout.

Peter had only just entered the training room, wondering where everyone was, when he caught the tail end of your dad's order. He couldn't help but blurt the first thing that'd come to mind, the implication of which only dawned on him afterwards. As he rushed to your side he shot you a sheepish look, and you internally cringed a bit at his slip. 

Even though you were certain Peter's involvement would only further reduce your already slim chances of getting out of this mission without a full confession of what was really going on, you couldn't help but feel an inkling of relief as his eyes locked with yours. His hand immediately intertwined itself with yours once he'd reached you, and your belly fluttered with a warm tinge of comfort with the simple touch.

True, things were probably about to go sideways for the both of you, but at least Peter was here to go through it by your side. 

"Excuse me Parker?" your dad spat incredulously, eyes blazing with anger at your boyfriend's outburst. "I don't recall asking you for your opinion on my daughter or what she can or can't do."

Peter stood a little taller as he looked Bucky straight in the eyes with an unprecedented amount of determination. 

"She can't go." he practically growled, eyes stern and unyielding as he openly defied your dad. He was standing a half-step in front of you, tense back partially shielding you from the rest of the team as he spoke.

 Even with his face turned the opposite direction you could see from his profile the way his brows were furrowed and how dark his normally chocolate brown eyes had gotten. You felt a slight shiver run up your spine at the fiercely protective energy Peter was radiating, and your heart felt a bit lighter at the way he stood up to your dad on your behalf. You squeezed his hand in an effort to ground him, and he softened marginally as he glanced back at you.

Your dad however looked as if he might combust soon based on the way his eyes bulged out and his face turned a concerning shade of red. 

"What's that supposed to mean Peter?" Steve interjected carefully, his hand reaching up to rest comfortingly on his husband's shoulder. 

"It means exactly what we said," Peter said firmly. "Y/N cannot go on this mission today."

The team watched the interaction between you, Peter, and your dads with their heads bouncing back and forth between the four of you like they were watching a tennis match. Not a word had been uttered from a single one of them, and yet they stood completely transfixed as they waited patiently to see the outcome of the argument. 

"And why, pray tell, is that Parker?" your dad hissed, scowl etched across his features. 

Peter's eyes traveled to yours, irises swimming with a silent question. Realizing that there was no way out, you took a steadying breath as you nodded softly and squeezed his hand once more in reassurance. Peter smiled at you fondly before dropping his smile and turning back to your parents. 

"She can't go because...it could be bad for the baby."

You could've heard a pin drop in the training room. No one made a sound, no one even dared to breathe. The shock in the room was palpable, but you couldn't be bothered to even glance at anyone other than your dads, their reactions the only two that mattered to you in this moment. 

Though you'd expected a rather explosive reaction from your parents (especially from your dad), you were met instead with blank stares. Your dads were simply staring at you and Peter in stunned silence, and their lack of a response actually frightened you more than the screaming you'd been anticipating for weeks now. The beat of silence seemed to stretch on eternally, though in reality it was probably no more than thirty seconds. You watched nervously, your hand becoming sweaty in Peter's as you waited. Finally, your Pops blinked and opened his mouth cautiously. 

"Bad for the wha-"

"I SWEAR TO GOD PARKER THAT'D BETTER BE SOME KIND OF DISGUSTING PET NAME FOR MY DAUGHTER."

Ahhh. There it was. 

Your dad had clearly broken through his frozen thoughts enough to respond, and you would've laughed if you weren't so terrified. He looked positively furious; his eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them and his face had darkened from red to an almost purple color that looked painful to say the least. His murderous gaze was hyper-fixated on Peter, and you couldn't help but step in front of your poor boyfriend in an effort to take some of the heat off him. 

Peter, evidently, was having none of that, and he frowned before pulling you backwards and tucking you into his side tightly. If you hadn't been so focused on your dad right now you might've rolled your eyes at his over-protectiveness. Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of his embrace as you took a steadying breath. 

"It's not," you responded as calmly as you could manage while your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your throat. "I'm pregnant."

Silence enveloped the room once more, and you could've sworn it was even more awkward than the first time. It must've been, because you could see Nat and Wanda ushering the rest of the team out of the gym out of the corner of your eye. You weren't quite sure if you were grateful for the privacy or more scared of how your dads would react now that you were alone.

Your dads stared at you and Peter with wildly different expressions. Steve was staring off into space and looking as if he was either going to throw up or pass out soon, and Bucky still looked as if he was about a half a second away from murdering Peter with his bare hands. To his credit, Peter was still standing by your side with the same look of determination as before despite this, but you could feel the way his pulse was hammering through his veins as he too carefully surveyed your dads' reactions.

You stood quietly, trying to be patient as you watched them, but the suspense and anticipation quickly became overwhelming and you couldn't help but blurt,

"Say something!"

Though both their gazes snapped up to your face with your plea, yet neither your dad nor you Pops said anything. You were suddenly overcome with the urge to explain yourself. 

"I know that you're probably in shock or angry or maybe both- and honestly that's completely fair!" You rambled breathlessly. "I know we're still only eighteen, but I really think everything's gonna be okay? Really, I do. And I'm so sorry about today, believe me this isn't how we planned on telling you at all bu-"

"You're not coming on the mission," Steve interrupted, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "Nor is Peter. Your dad and I will be back later, and we're all going to have a long discussion."

It felt like all the air was sucked out of your body as you watched your Pops pull your dad towards the training room exit. You hadn't been fully sure of just how you were going to tell them, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine that it would come out like this. Tears once more welling up in your eyes, your heart sank as you realized just how disappointed and angry they were. 

"I love you," your voice cracked as you called to their retreating forms, unable to bear the sight of them leaving without reminding them. They both paused in the doorway, and without turning back both muttered that they loved you too before they were gone. 

As soon as they left you immediately twisted yourself and thrust your face into Peter's chest, the tears flowing steadily as you sobbed. He wrapped his arms tightly around your shaking form, lips finding the crown of your head and hands rubbing soothingly across your back. 

"Th-they hate me now," you whispered brokenly into Peter's soft hoodie in between sobs. "They hate me Pete, they're n-never going to forgive me for this!"

Peter shushed you quietly, gentle lips kissing your hair as he began to sway you back and forth slowly. 

"They don't hate you angel," he soothed. "They're just surprised. Disappointed in the timing maybe, but they'll get over it. I promise."

"I never wanted it to go like this," you cried as you pulled your head from his chest slightly. Peter's hands left your back for a moment to come and rest on either of your cheeks. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before retreating upwards to look deep into your eyes. 

"I know you didn't sweet girl, but it did," he said gently as he brushed away some of your tears with the pads of his thumbs. "It did and it's going to be okay. We'll talk to your dads when they get back and clear everything up. And no matter what, you and I are going to get through this together, okay?"

You sniffled softly, nodding sadly. Peter's eyes were swimming with guilt and dejection at the sight of the empty expression on your face. He didn't know how to comfort you in this situation, but it was like every molecule in his body was demanding he do so. He leaned down once more to press a loving kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips. 

You sighed, head retreating back to his chest once your lips disconnected. Sadness was still swirling in your stomach and you just longed for the feeling that being in Peter's arms brought. He seemed to understand perfectly- as he always did- pressing his cheek to the top of your head and wrapping his arms tightly around you without a word. The two of you stood there for a while, bodies entangled as you continued lightly swaying back and forth. Peter's hands continued to roam up and down your spine and your tears began to slow and dry. 

Eventually you hummed, stepping back and up on your toes to press an appreciative kiss to Peter's face. He smiled as a faint pink tinted his cheeks at your display of affection. You giggled, slightly amazed that even after everything you two had done, something as simple as a peck on the cheek could still make him blush.

"Thank you," you said quietly, looking up into his eyes. He quirked an eyebrow at you in confusion. 

"For staying with me through all that. I mean it's you, so I wasn't really worried...but my dad can be really frightening. So thanks," you half joked. 

Peter chuckled lightly as he pulled you back into his arms once more. 

"Of course angel. Told you, I'm never going to leave you. Even if your dad is super scary. You two are stuck with me now. I'm never ever going to leave you or our baby," he vowed quietly into your hair as his hands reached down to rub the small but growing bump in your tummy lovingly. "We're gonna get through this all together, as a family."

You felt tears well up in your eyes once more, but this time out of sheer love and happiness.

 Damned hormones. 

"You're gonna be such a good daddy Peter," you whispered gratefully. Hearing the slight crack in your voice, Peter pulled you away from his chest gently to wipe your tear stained cheeks once more. 

"Hey now, no more tears today," he scolded playfully as he tugged you across the room. "When's the last time you ate something? We have the whole kitchen to ourselves now, and I bet my babies are hungry!"

You chuckled lightly as you allowed him to pull you along with him towards the kitchen. All the while, he chattered happily about the new article he'd just read about the specific nutritional needs pregnant women have, and your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. You were still apprehensive about the upcoming conversation with your dads, but you were definitely feeling better. As much as their approval and involvement would mean to you, you'd come to the conclusion that as long as you had Peter by your side everything would work out alright. 

Somehow.

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

"Petey, are you sure you don't need any-"

"No! Nope. I've got this," your boyfriend interrupted stubbornly. You signed, hand absentmindedly rubbing across your swollen stomach as you watched him struggle with the latch on the new crib the two of you were setting up. 

Well, the crib that Peter was setting up. 

It'd been a few months since the team had found out about the newest upcoming addition to the Tower, and you'd decided that it was time to begin decorating the nursery. Tony, of course, had offered to have someone come in to do all the heavy lifting, but Peter was insistent that he be the one to set everything up. His protectiveness over you and the rapidly growing child you were carrying had only increased as the months went on, so much so that you were lucky now if he'd even let you stand for long enough to watch him put the baby's furniture together. It was endearing, really, how much he cared for the two of you, but you'd be lying if you said that you weren't becoming a little frustrated with how little you could do to help. 

"Really Peter, I can help," you grumbled, annoyed. "I'm pregnant, not disabled."

"Of course you could help angel, but I don't need help," he grunted, eyes never leaving the mass of parts around him. "You already have to do all the work of growing and housing our baby, the least I can do is build the crib!"

"Housing?" you teased, quirking an eyebrow.

"You know what I meant," he grumbled, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his growing frustration. 

Peter was clearly losing his grip just a bit as he struggled to make sense of the instructions that had been provided with the pieces. He sighed, throwing the pamphlet down on the ground before trudging over to where you stood, leaning against the changing table that he'd put together a few days ago. 

"I've engineered web-fluid from absolutely nothing, re-built computers from scratch and yet I can't even manage to put this stupid bed together," he whined as he dropped his head down onto your shoulder in defeat. "M'gonna be a terrible father."

"Ohhh bubs," you cooed sympathetically, smile falling quickly and heart lurching at the tone of pure dejection in his voice. 

You wrapped your arms around him, one snaking around his back and the other cradling his head. Your fingers began instantly carding through his chocolate-brown locks as he nuzzled his nose lightly into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His hands wound their way around your waist too- or as well as they could with your round tummy in the way- and his own hands began absentmindedly tracing patterns over your bump.

"Peter you have to know that isn't true," you soothed, kissing his cheek softly. "You're going to be an amazing dad."

He hummed non-commitally. 

"You think you're not?" you challenged, fingers halting their dance against his scalp. "Do the thing."

He raised his head from your shoulder, brows furrowed in confusion. 

"What does that have to do with-"

"Do the thing," you interrupted sternly. He sighed and knelt down, grumbling inaudible complaints as he went. Once he was face to face with your bump he placed his hands on either side, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your stretched-out skin.

"Hi baby, it's me, your daddy," he spoke softly into your stomach, lips so close that you shivered with each breath that ghosted over your clothed belly. "I love you so much."

The baby responded instantly at the sound of Peter's voice, feet jabbing out and kicking excitedly from within just underneath where his hands lay. You felt your heart skip a beat at both the feeling the movement in your belly and the sight of the dopey smile that lit up Peter's handsome face as he felt his child's kicks. You rubbed over his hands lovingly and smiled down at him.

"See bubs? He starts throwing a party in there every time you do that. He loves you so much already, that's not gonna change," you reassured him softly. Peter's smile dropped just a little. 

"But the crib-"

"Fuck the crib," you responded stubbornly. "You are the most caring, sweetest, and most thoughtful person I know Peter. You're going to be the world's best dad."

"Whoa whoa, believe we're the ones with the mugs that claim that title," a voice chuckled from the doorway. 

You smiled fondly, eyes darting to find the sight of your Pops leaning casually against the frame of the door with your dad standing just behind him. Both had amused smiles on their faces, and you grinned widely. Even Peter smiled as he rose to his feet and wrapped one of his arms around your back to pull you into his side. 

"Okay, third best dad in the world then," you amended, grinning. 

"That's better," your dad piped up, smiling. "Now what's this I hear about a faulty crib? Sam said he can hear Peter cursing all the way from his room."

Peter groaned, tilting his head backwards in exasperation as you laughed out loud. 

"It isn't faulty, I'm just an idiot," Peter grumbled. Everyone but him chuckled, and your dad walked further into the room. He clapped a hand on Peter's back as he grinned at the younger man. 

"Normally I'd agree with you, but I know if I do Steve will bring up how Y/N had to sleep in the bassinet for like 6 months because we couldn't figure out how to put her crib together."

"You mean you couldn't figure it out," your Pops snorted from his place in the doorway. "As I recall, I was not allowed to help with the furniture because you were determined to figure it out on your own."

Bucky shrugged, seemingly indifferent to his husband's insinuation. 

"Whatever. Point is, I wanted to see if you wanted some help putting it together. Thought I might be able to give you some tips," your dad continued. Peter's smile widened, and he nodded eagerly before your dad knelt down to help try and make sense of the directions.

The discussion after the incident in the training room had gone much better than you would've ever imagined. Both your dads had been relatively calm once they'd returned from their mission, and surprisingly there had been no screaming, no crying, and no threats towards Peter from Bucky like you'd been picturing. The four of you had sat down together and had a long, mature discussion of what your plans were in terms of raising and caring for your child, and by the end your dads had even seemed enthusiastic about the prospect of being grandparents. Their involvement and excitement had only grown in the following months to the point now that you felt silly for ever having been frightened to tell them. 

And now as you stood watching your boyfriend and dad work together to put your child's room together, tears began collecting in your eyes and you felt your chest warm with feelings of overwhelming love. Steve, noticing your tears, moved to wrap his arms around you and you leaned your head against his shoulder. Rubbing your belly lovingly, you couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over you for the men in your life and love for the little one that you'd all be meeting soon. 

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter sixteen — “aftermath”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: steve finds bucky a bit stressed and acting (only slightly) neurotic. he aims to uncover the source of his best friend’s conflict... and he’s not surprised at the answer.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

[A/N:] ‘doll dizzy’ is 40’s slang for “a boy who is crazy about girls” also this is kind of a filler chapter, sorry :(

The walk back to his living quarters was hazy and slow. His mind went back and forth from scattered to blank, in complete disbelief that what just happened happened. It was surreal; it almost felt like it didn't happen.

It wasn't... supposed to happen. They were supposed to be friends. Conceptually he knew this, but then she was there and she was so close and her hands were on him and she was saying such sweet, gentle things.

Briefly, so Bucky touched his lips lightly with the pads of his index and middle finger. If he focused hard enough, he could still feel it, feel her. Before he could dig himself another grave, the rational part of his brain yanked him back to reality.

Did he ruin everything? After all, it was him that leaned in this time. How different would they be from the last time the two of them got too close? The rumination would've continued, but the voice of a blonde super soldier interrupted his thoughts.

"Buck, you day drinkin' now?" Steve called, jokingly.

"What?"

"You look drunk."

Post fuck up delirium? He bet he looked like an idiot. To be honest, he felt a little inebriated after what he just experienced.

"I can't get drunk."

"Yeah, that's why I'm confused."

"I just..." he trailed off, thinking of an excuse, "was on a run. That's all."

As Bucky walked up to him, he could more clearly see the confusion on Steve's face.

"In those clothes?"

"...yes."

"Whatever you say, pal..."

Bucky didn't have time for so many questions! He didn't even have time to think; he had no idea what he was going to do, what was going to happen. Then Steve started talking again.

"Hey, Sam and I were going to-"

"I gotta go," Bucky interrupted, needing to find someplace to suffer through his thoughts.

"Buck-"

"I'll see ya later."

From there, he left his best friend more confused than when he found him.

—

Bucky paced around his room, his worried, worried mind running in circles. In the heat of the moment, she said she wouldn't leave, but how could she not? And what the fuck was transference? Was that what was actually happening? Even if it was, how could she condone his actions? There was no way she could stay after that! Right?

The rest of the session was so awkward and they left things in such a weird place and Bucky was so confused but also feeling all sorts of other things and-

"Bucky."

He turned to see Steve march through the entryway with a kind of glorious purpose only Steve Rogers seemed to have.

He sighed. "What do you need?"

"What is up with you, man?"

"What?"

"What's up with you? You're acting weird."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong!"

"You're a terrible liar," he deadpanned with a hint of a smile.

"I'm actually a good liar. I just... got a lot on my mind, okay? So, you can go be a worryin' geezer somewhere else. I'll be just fine."

"Geezer? Did you forget that you're literally older than me?"

"Shut up," Bucky all but pouted, too frazzled to muster up some creative banter. "Punk."

"Just tell me what's wrong, ya jerk."

He knew Steve wouldn't budge. At first he thought, stubborn ass. But then, he remembered how Y/N said Steve's stubbornness was something she really respected about him.

Bucky sighed, giving in and slouching into a chair near his bed. "It's Y/N."

"The... therapist?"

"Yes. The therapist."

"What about her? Did she do something? Is this another Zemo situation?"

Steve's voice got more defensive with each word. Like he was ready to kick someone's ass if need be. Steve Rogers: loyal to a fault. What else is new?

"No! No, nothing like that. Things are just... kinda complicated..."

"Complicated how?"

Yeah, how exactly was he supposed to explain this part? He didn't want to reveal any details and get her fired. Obviously. Steve wouldn't tell anyone anything that would get Bucky in trouble. That much he knew. But with Y/N, he wasn't sure. He decided to play it safe, proving that he was, in fact, a good liar. Or, at least a good only-tell-certain-parts-of-the-truth-er.

"Complicated like she might leave."

"Why would she leave? Are you guys done with the therapy?"

"Not exactly. It's... things between us are... odd."

"Odd?" Steve asked, clearly wanting some kind of elaboration.

"Yes," Bucky said curtly, giving him nothing of the sorts.

Steve stared at him for a moment, and it looked like he was trying to solve a math problem in his head. Bucky almost laughed.

"Buck, you didn't..."

"Didn't what?!"

"She's your therapist!" he exclaimed, although he didn't look very upset. More so surprised.

Now Bucky was starting to lose his composure. "What are you talking about?!"

"Well, I guess you really are getting back your old self because this is probably what he would do."

Did he just get called a man slut?

"What is that supposed to mean?" he crossed his arms.

"You've always been... what'd we used to call it? 'Doll dizzy?' Yeah. It's making a reappearance."

"I-..." Bucky exasperated.

Okay, maybe he was a little doll dizzy back when he was a kid, but now? Certainly not now. That's ridiculous.

"What? You're gonna look at me and you're gonna tell me that I'm wrong?"

"What exactly are you implying?"

"Are you..." he stuttered, slightly embarrassed, thinking of how to choose his words, "being intimate... with your therapist?"

If he wasn't preoccupied with worrying about his psychologist leaving, he might have laughed at Steve's awkwardness.

"What! No! It's not like that!" He felt flustered.

Steve laughed. He fucking laughed. "Then what?"

Bucky rubbed his eyes, groaning in annoyance. "We're... just friends."

Well, they were supposed to be. He's not sure what they were now... or what was going to happen. Beforehand, any cursed feelings he had were just that: feelings. They were in the back of his mind, barely making themselves conscious long enough to be known, long enough for him to be fully aware of them. But now, he felt like an exposed nerve, feeling all too much too fast.

"Just friends?" he raised his brows in disbelief.

"Yeah, just... yeah..."

"I think you guys look at each other a little too long to be just friends..."

Bucky scoffed. "What does that even mean?"

"I saw you two at the bonfire."

"Okay? Whatdya want, a trophy?"

"Yeah, yeah. And whenever she wasn't looking at you, you were gawkin' at her."

"I don't gawk," he rolled his eyes.

"Oh, but you do."

"And since when are you tracking everyone's eye movements?"

"You were subtle, I'll give you that. But I know ya, Buck. And I'm observant."

"Yeah, and I'm screwed."

"Why?"

"'Cause she's probably gonna leave now. I mean, she said she didn't have to, but she'll probably think everything over and end up leaving."

"What, 'cause you looked at her?"

"No, 'cause I kissed her!"

A smile grew on Steve's face. "I knew it."

Once more, Bucky let out a loud and annoyed groan of frustration. "Man, I fucked up. I had a good thing going for me... god damn transference... shit."

"Transference?"

"It's a thing she told me about, it's like... apparently my feelings about something else get transferred to her, so I don't really feel that way about her, but it seems like I do... I think."

"That's... a thing?"

"Apparently- I don't know," Bucky flailed his hands, beginning to pace again. "That's what she told me at least."

"Well... did she kiss you back?"

Bucky stopped moving.

"She did..." he said, while realizing that, yes, she actually did kiss him back and shocked that she... actually kissed him back.

He guessed his mind hadn't caught up to him yet. He hadn't analyzed their actions and each physical change between them. He guessed he was still stuck in that moment. In his head, they were still kissing.

"That's a good sign... right?" Steve shrugged.

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, brain all but malfunctioning. "I don't know what it is. I don't know anything anymore. I'm a crummy patient..."

"Oh, come on. What happened to Brooklyn's ladies man?"

"He fell off a train."

Steve looked only slightly mortified, but it made Bucky laugh. Comedic catharsis seemed to ease the tension in his chest.

"Look," Bucky started, "she's like the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. And I think I might've ruined it. I just want things to be okay with us... I don't want her to leave."

"Did you talk to her about it?"

"No, we ended the session early 'cause of me. It was... awkward after."

"Well, go talk to her then!"

"I can't, I just left. I wanna at least give her some space."

"You didn't seem to care about space earlier," Steve teased.

Bucky smacked his best friend's arm. "Would you cut it out!"

"Wait, but how did it happen? Like did you just leap up and grab her face? How did it go down?"

"I'm gonna kill you."

"I thought I was the wing man! I need details!"

Bucky turned. "Oh yeah, wingman? How's Sharon?"

Steve shut up.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @nickkie1129 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @quxxnxfhxll @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @maravderofthephoenix @avengersgirllorianna @cataves @thatbitchsposts @talktomeaboutthestars @surrealpsycho @headheartbellarke @bubbly-moonwarrior @bluemoon-icecream @buckeyecreates

[empiretoppled]

guardian angel ⸝⸝ oneshot

pairings: sharon carter x winter soldier!reader.

warnings: mentions of blood and injury, attempted brainwashing.

summary: once upon a time you were a winter soldier, but those days are long behind you. at least until someone tries to use your code words to activate that side of you. luckily you seem to have a guardian angel aka sharon carter.

word count: 1312 (can you believe this is the longest oneshot i've ever written?).

// REQUEST: Can I request a Sharon x f!reader where reader was a winter soldier like Bucky with the arm and everything and someone tries to use to words to activate the reader and Sharon is there and she’s just really protective of reader helps her through it 🥺🥺 ༐ A/N: it's probably obvious but this is my first attempt at writing any type of a fight scene, please be gentle.

MASTERLIST

You should have known something was odd the moment your contact had finally called back, should have realised there was something wrong about the whole deal, hell you should have called everything off the moment Madripoor was mentioned.

But you had been so desperate, like a dog begging for scraps, that the mere idea of finally being released from the mental hell Hydra had put you in put you in the sort of situation where ignoring any possible lead, no matter how unreliable and risky it was hadn't even seemed like a viable option.

And look where your desperation had gotten you, crouched in a dirty alley, back pressed against a brick wall, praying to whatever god was wiling to listen that you had successfully escaped the men chasing after you. A quick glance down confirmed what you had feared, your arm – the metal one was fried beyond repair, the damage far worse then anything you would be able to fix all alone, stuck in a stupid alley.

Seeing the state of your arm made the fear in your gut grow, whoever these men were they had come prepared, taking out your main advantage before the fight had fully begun. You arm had been made to withhold nearly anything and were you not in so much pain you would have been impressed that they knew how to break it in such maner, but right now you were annoyed and more then a little frightened.

The serum rushing through your veins did very little in terms of dulling the amount of pain you were currently in and you could feel the initial rush of adrenaline wearing off, forced to bite your tongue to stop yourself from crying out in order to avoid gaining attention or even worse revealing your location to the same men you were so desperately trying to outrun.

It seemed that whatever short period of rest the alley had been able to provide would soon be broken as the sound of approaching footsteps reached your hiding spot. Years of practice made you leap to your feat, your teeth grinding as the sudden movement made another stab of pain run through your injured arm, black spots blurring your vision.

By the time your vision somewhat cleared and you were able to once again focus on your surrondings, there were three of the men rounding the corner, their guns drawn and pointed in your direction. It took you barely a moment to absorb the scene and act accordingly, once again driven by pure instinct as you charged at them, knocking the guns from two of the men and ducking just in time to avoid getting hit by the bullet shot by the third.

The closest man lunged and you barely had time to react, stepping to the side at the last minute and grasping at his hair as he passed, using the man's momentum to throw him aside, his head hitting the brick wall you had been pressed against less then a few minutes ago. The second came at you before you had a chance to even straighten yourself, bending your injured arm with enough force that it made you cry out in agony, a wail that would without doubt drag even more unwanted attention your way.

Trapped, you struggled to move away, desperation kicking in as you blindly hit in his direction, only to receive another blow to you side as his hold on you tightened. "Now, now, that's enough of that soldat.", he reprimanded you, as out of breath as you felt, his voice more dissapointed then angry, similiar to that of an owner trying to control a disobedient puppy and way too smug for your liking.

"What a coincidence, I happen to agree, that is quite enough of that.", a new voice rang out, shrill and sudden, quickly followed by the sound of a gun going off, the man's grip faltering just enough for you to slip out of it. However, the respite didn't last long as he pulled you back by your hair, swiftly turning you around so you stood between him and the new arrival, shielding himself from whoever it was that seemingly came to your aid.

"Now, I was going to wait until we were in a more controlled environment but what can I say? I'm nothing if not flexible.", the man behind you took a shallow breath as if preparing himself, "Желание." No, no, no! "Семнадцать. Ржав-" Bang.

You felt it before you heard it, sharp pain through your middle, unmistakable and far too familiar. Whoever it was that came to your rescue shot the man holding you, straight through you.

No longer held back, you swayed on your feet, closing your eyes as you prepared yourself for the harsh fall. But the action proved to be unnecessary as strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you into their side and taking the worst of the impact as your weight took them down with you.

"Sorry about that.", the voice was much closer now, softer then it had been earlier, familiar, your groggy mind added.

Every cell in your body screamed for you to stay down, to rest, that you were safe now but you fought against it, pained moans falling from your lips as you tried to crawl as far away as you could. It was only when you opened your eyes that you stopped, the hood that had been pulled over your savior's head had fallen down sometimes during your struggle and your fuzzy brain was finally able to recognize the person in front of you.

"Sharon?", you croaked out, confusion obvious in your voice, whoever it was you had expected to see, it sure as hell wasn't Sharon Carter. "Hell of a reunion, am I right?", she replied, pulling herself from the ground, her voice teasing but visibly hesitant as she approached you, hands in front of her as a clear sign that she meant no further harm.

The gesture was clearly more for your sake then out of fear, there wasn't much fight left in you, the ease with which she had stood up made it obvious your earlier attempt at getting away from her had only hurt you, it made your lip twitch in an attempt to smile.

She stopped walking a small distance away from you, her gaze questioning, and it was only when you gave her a nod that she moved closer, crouching next to you, swiftly taking off her hoddie, doing her best to tie it around you tight enough to stop the blood flow. "It won't help for long but it should be good enough until I get you to my apartment to patch it up.", she mumbled and you were unsure whether she was saying it for your benefit or hers.

You looked up at her then down to the makeshift bandage which was seeping with more blood, your face paling at the sight. "You sure about that?"

"Yes.", she stood back up, her grip on your shoulders firm but gentle as she pulled you to your feet, quick to position herself in a way that let her support most of your body weight, which was a good thing as you weren't sure you wouldn't have just fallen back to the ground if she didn't.

You were dead on your feet, barely able to keep your eyes fully open by the time you both reached her car, Sharon's talking the only that kept you somewhat awake. You could't quite tell what she was saying but her voice gave you something to focus on which you were extremely grateful for.

It was only about an hour later, after she had both cleaned and dressed the injury, that you finally let yourself fall asleep, healing and most importantly safe. With Sharon right by your side.

[marvelyhp]

Still you | chapter II

Chapter II: The comeback

Synopsis: Y/n decides to help the Avengers despite their betrayal two years prior and her life makes a big shift once again.

Pairing: Y/n x Bucky Barnes and some Y/n x Sam Wilson

Word count: 5,997

warnings: cussing, some fluff

note: I know I took so long but I had writer's block. then, I got covid and I felt too awful to write. But I'm okay now so this is what I could come up with. Not my greatest stuff. the tag list is open :)

Side note: I would really appreciate hearing from you and your thoughts!

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

We managed to lower two floors without raising suspicion or making too much noise. At least, James and I were pretty silent, whispering if needed. But of course, Stark always had to open his damn mouth. He had been talking all the way —pretty loudly too— and he just did it again.

“Where’s the grandpa with the bad luck of having you as a tenant?” The man didn’t know the meaning of whispering. Or maybe he did. He just wanted to make my life more complex than it was. I looked frantically behind me, praying he had not seen me sneaking out. At the sight of no one, a breath of relief exploded out of me. But it didn’t last long, irritation quickly dampening my already poor mood.

“Shut the hell up!” I hissed. My patience with the insufferable man wearing thin.

“Oh, relax. If he sees us, we’ll knock him out and blame you.” He mocked, a chuckle erupting throughout the hall and following the stairlike a draft of wind. My blood started to boil inside my veins and I felt the heat spread from head to toes. I was afraid to be reaching my tipping point already because this was nothing. Two years out of practice left me hypersensitive to his shit. I wondered how long I would be able to stand the insufferable mortal and regret hit me like a ton of bricks.

“He is a good man, Stark. We will not knock him out.” I whispered as I pressed myself against the wall. Twisting my head around the corner at the end of the hall, I sneaked a glance at the stairs and the visible space from the top. “Watch your step here. His room is right underneath the stairs. We don’t want to wake him up.

I walked forward, pressing my foot in the first step, praying the creak of the old wood would keep quiet today as it did some nights. At least that’s what I hoped but it wasn’t what happened. A groan broke the silence in the room and I knew that if he was awake, he definitely heard it. I waited a couple of seconds, alert to any noise. When nothing came, I advanced four more steps. I focused on the one shadow dancing in the wall and relief swept through me. He wasn’t awake.

I turned, thinking the guys were still up. However, I let out a gasp when Bucky’s face came into view, mere inches away from mine. Thanks to the startle, the foot I had dangerously close to the edge slipped.

My heart stopped as I thought about the fall and the inevitable bone-crushing pain that would come after it. The stairs were pretty high and even though they were wood, it was quite sharp. Splinters roamed everywhere. I waited for the pain and the strenuous sound. It was phenomenal, the first time I saw the team in two years and I would meet them in a body bag with a broken neck.

However, it never came.

When I opened my eyes, blue electric eyes stared back at me. Our faces were inches away from each other. A hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against him to hold me from falling. I was hyper-aware of our breaths clashing against each other, making the most sinful of sounds. Our lips were separated by a small space, too close for my brain to catch up quickly. I noticed how his lips roamed my face, stopping at my lips slightly parted by the surprise. His eyes held a fervent fire and my breath quickened once I felt the inevitable rush of warmth roaring my body.

Coughing slightly, I took a step backward, stepping out of his grasp. I forgot all about the landlord as I scolded myself. The man looked at me and there I was getting flushed like a raging hormonal teenager. I looked at everything but Bucky’s face, why I knew still had his eyes on me except now his jaw was firmly set. I wanted to ask him what was going on inside his head but a hovering shadow at the top of the stairs captured my attention.

“What are you still doing up there?'' The man looked utterly confused standing at the top of the stairs surrounded by darkness. I wondered if it had to do with what he just witnessed.

“You care about that grandpa, don’t you?” His expression was one of disbelief. His body wasn’t moving as if in shock or trying to process the information he thought was correct. And it was, but he didn’t have to know.

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

“Of course you do. You care about the landlord.”

I whirled around as fast as I could with the incident earlier present in my head as a gruff voice filled the room. A short, stubby old man stood at the foot of the stair dressed in a white t-shirt and some basketball shorts. The ends of his hair stood up as if held by a string and maneuvered by a child. His narrowed black eyes stared back at us. His lips pressed in a thin line.

“Of course, she does, kid. Why shouldn't she?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. I followed the movement of the milk dancing in the glass on his right hand. I felt proud of the English I had taught him and how-- as much as I didn't want this to happen-- useful it would be. I looked back at Stark to find him gaping like a fish. Little croaks came from his throat but no coherent words came from him. It was the first time I had seen Stark speechless. “I’m an incredible landlord if I say so myself.”

He was.

I cursed inwardly. There were things I didn't want everyone to know. To a certain extent, I wasn’t ready for the team, for Stark, to find out that I wasn’t the monster he expected me to be. I wasn’t ready for him to look at me differently. Andrei had the power to change our whole dynamic.

It wasn’t that Andrei and I shared anything about life. Or at least I didn’t. Andrei liked to talk, to share his life with me, and try to make me talk. He said I was too reserved. I remember that day like it was yesterday.

It had been a warm evening. I could see the sun filtering through the windows. Shining onto the top of the show top and illuminating the cottage-like bakery. The dough in my hands stuck to my skin, lumps of a uniformed cream mass suffocating the fingers. The powdered white dust sat beside me and I felt irritated. I hadn’t thought about pouring it on the mixture before I touched it. ‘I was out of my element here’ I thought as I reached for the flour.

Andrei’s baker had abruptly called five minutes before work notifying him he couldn’t work his shift. His grandmother had fallen down the stairs and fractured her hip, hence his lack of concern for Andrei. He was the only living relative she had so it fell upon him to look after her. One missed shift would turn into dozens. The bakery was small and hidden in a remote part of Romania. The clientèle was not much besides those living in the small town from years ago, or even since they were born.

Everyone in town knew each other. When I arrived I had my doubts about staying in this place because of that same reason. I would be the talk for weeks and I couldn’t risk so many people questioning my presence. Except, I was lucky.

One evening, I sat in a small and dark corner of a bar near the outskirts of the town where it was most probable to see an outsider. Two men sat a couple of feet away from me, talking fairly loudly. Out of boredom and desire to know the people I might have been seeing every day, I heard and studied their moments. Taking notes about their behaviors and storing them far into the file I had on humanity. Their voices were cheery as they ate pastries that I was sure to not be from the small bar.

“This is so good! I can’t believe I haven't tasted a pastry this good since I left,” he moaned loudly in reaction to the puff on his hand. The crumbly dessert spilling powdered sugar all over his dark gray pants. “Andrei hasn’t lost his touch.”

“Who is this Andrei you talk so highly of?” The older male asked the seemingly young partner. The man wore an expensive suit, not one that could be found here and from what I gathered from their conversation, he had not grown up here. But his friend did. What he said next grabbed my attention the most.

“His bakery is pretty hidden in the town. Someone that didn’t know the road would not find him. He used to be a criminal, on the run and all that. But since he got out of prison he became a baker. the man sure has a gift. I don’t even know why he went to jail, because the man is a sweetheart. I think he was just dealt a bad hand.” The man kept munching on his pastry as he talked. The vowels all merging to create a soundless blob. I swore he said more but that was all I could understand and by the face of his friend, he understood less.

“It’s such a small town. Why was it never known?”

“I don’t know. Rumor has it that he was born here but left, something to do with his family. He came back years later, on the run from some people. People we assumed to be the police. Of course, the police followed his trail and eventually found him here. Two years later. He hid pretty well if, you asked me. He treats people with respect but he never talks about himself. He has always been reserved when it comes to his life, only telling small details that lead to nothing. You know, not enough to form a life picture…”

Before he finished talking, I was out of my seat, walking towards the pair. I plastered an innocent look on my face, one I had studied and perfected many times since coming to earth. I relaxed my posture, knowing I had been tense and tucked since I entered this town. I still can’t believe I was social before. Nobody would believe that if I told them now.

“Hey, those pastries look marvelous!” I said in a cheery voice when I reached the pair. Both of their heads whipped towards my direction, curiosity written in their faces. I could hear the questions in their head about me and where I came from and what I looked for in town. Typical gossiping mortals. I wanted to cut the tie between our heads, feeling bad about corrupting the men’s thoughts. But I couldn’t, not until I had what I wanted. “Do you know where could I find them?”

“Sure thing. What’s your name, sweet thing?” Sweet thing, that’s funny. If he had been into the American news he would not say that.

“Calypso. Do you know where the place is? Can you explain it to me?” I said, trying to hide the hurry in my voice. His thoughts were front seat in my mind, not wanting to miss a thing.

“So eager.” He chuckled. Instead of the route, I was expecting, he thought about my naked form and countless sexual images began replaying. I resisted the urge to impale his backside, taking a deep breath and counting to ten. I played his game. I battered my eyelashes and looked at him from hooded eyes. I bit my lip gently and walked closer. Sneaking a glance at his friend, I noticed he was no longer looking at us. He seemed uncomfortable and had turned to his coffee and pastries. I wish I had a coffee to turn to.

“Maybe you could take me there. If you remember the way, of course.” He smirked and grabbed the jacket slung over the wooden chair he sat on. His friend looked at us, startled as if he wasn’t expecting my response. However, the joy of his friend would be short-lived. Images of the way to the small bakery filled my head and I smirked. Before he could take my hand to guide me to his car I asked for the restroom.

As soon as I came in, my eyes searched for some window I could use to leave unnoticed. And I found it in the corner of the bathroom beside one of the huge black and white mirrors. I locked the door and hurried to open the window, sliding through the door. The darkness of the night didn’t face me but my alert was high. Everybody could hide in the dark. My heart rocked against my chest as I saw the same guy from early waiting beside his car. I hurried along the alleyway, pulling my hood up and hiding my hair, disappearing into the dark.

“Calypso, boy for you.” I was brought from my memories by the rough voice of Andrei. Whoever didn’t spend much time with him would think he was mad all the time thanks to his voice and forever furrowed white bushy eyebrows. I matched the furrowing of his eyebrows when he mentioned a boy. I had been careful enough to not get attached or get anyone attached to myself so the mention of another human being besides Andrei spooked me.

Suddenly, the thought of agents looking for me or the usual threats I had filled me with panic. I heard the thunderous beat of my heart. The tremble of my hands disrupted the beautiful form of the pastry in my hands. quickly cleaning and taking away the apron full of white dust, I walked to the front of the door.

A dark-haired man in his early twenties stood next to the door with a blue box in his hands. A white shimmering ribbon adorned the delicate box, wrapping silkily around it to form a well-done bow. The chiseled bone structure of his profile caught my breath as he looked to the small, underpopulated plaza in the corner of the rondure. The curvature of his roman nose and the thin shape of his lips sticking in his profile.

I saw him regularly at the small bakery. His usual was a Papanaşia with a black strong coffee. He left three dollars on the tip jar three times a week and I noticed if he was overly happy, he would leave a fiver regardless of the day or how many days he had tipped. I had seen him mad twice in the store. Seemingly, he was one of those guys that harbored every trouble inside in a chaotic turmoil. I knew because I had invaded his mind one of those times. Curiosity had gotten the best of me, knowing he was always the type of guy that carried the sun on his shoulder. Every time he caught my attention, I tried to remind myself that he could’ve been an agent sent by Hydra to kill me or worse, kidnap me.

“Hello. What can I help you with?” I said, confidence laced in my voice. The confidence I did not expect to have. His head whipped towards me. A smile broke on his face at the sight of me. I saw the fidgeting of the box in his hands and the sudden bobbing of his knee. He didn’t appear to be harboring any secrets, or at least not deadly ones.

“Hey. I know this will probably look very weird to you but I’ve been watch- I mean not watching but I just- I,” His stammering caused a giggle to leave my lips involuntarily. My hand immediately flew to my lips, hiding the smile corrupting my face. He lowered his face but not before giving me one of those smiles that could light up a world. God, I felt sappy. He looked at me once again. “I don’t know how to do this. I definitely didn’t think it through.” He chuckled. One of his hands came up to brush his face while shaking it, side to side. I could tell he was nervous, maybe more that I initially had been.

Seeing him stammer was the cutest thing I had seen since the little green and purple flowers that grew back home and surrounded our palace. So, I decided to help him a bit. “You could start with your name,” I said, trying to not smile too much. Agent, agent, agent…

“God, you probably should’ve done that first. Nice one.” He said, more to himself than for me to hear it. “I’m Razvan. It's lovely to finally meet you.” I shook his hand. It was rough yet soft with elongated fingers caressing my own small and thin one.

“Calypso.”

“What I meant to say, you know, before I shot myself in the foot was that you caught my eye since I first saw you. Now, I swear I'm not stalking you because it could be easy to think after the horrible introduction I just did. But, yeah, I would like to get to know you, if that’s okay with you.”

I did think about it. I swear I did. I thought about how he could be linked to Hydra and if you searched on the deepest paranoid corner, the Avengers. I thought he could’ve been just a random murderer whose floor I had shaken. My voice of reason said no. and with the saddest feeling settling my stomach, I told him what I thought. Or tried to.

“I’m sorry, I-I can’t. You seem like the loveliest person b-but I…” For some reason, I couldn’t just say no. “Can I think about this?” That was the only thing that came out of my mouth while I tried to get the words ‘go away and ‘don’t speak to me’ out of my mouth. His smile faded a bit, but even then he tried to keep his positivity and bright personality on. I could feel the waves of disappointment once I started speaking but hope soon came flooding back.

“Sure. I'm a complete stranger coming here every day just to see you. I can see how that’s alarming. take your time.” He shook his head as if realizing what he had just said. He chuckled and I tried to give him a small smile. Before I could turn away and leave, I felt him touch my elbow. I jumped back.

His brows furrowed quickly. “Forgive me. This is for you. And please accept it.” I thought about refusing but this would only prolong this meeting, pushing me to accept a company I wasn't ready for. I took the small box, my hand already trying to open the shimmering blue box. “No, please. Open it later, more calmly and everything and you can tell me whenever you’re ready if you like it.” I gave him a smile, which he returned brightly before diving back inside the back of the store.

Once inside, I undid the delicate ribbon, watching it dissolve like seafoam by the lovely blue water. The glistening gold chain with a tiny, colorful Koi fish rested in the center of the box. My heart swelled and I felt a way I hadn’t felt since Bucky. He remembered what I had told him that first, and the only time we had talked before today.

The voice of Andrei brought me out of my stupor with a jump. A hand traveled to grasp my heart while the other held the box tightly.

“Razvan is nice guy.” His voice was gruff and deep like it had been since I had met him. He walked behind me and grabbed a pack of flour to dump beside me. I looked towards the other and realized I was running out of it.

“Do you know him?”

“Yes. Comes every day for two years. Great boy.”

When I didn’t say anything, he stopped cutting open the pack of flour and turned to look at me. “You too reserved. Not want to end like Andrei alone. Give guy chance.” That was all he said before he left. A tall wrinkly woman with short red hair calling out for him.

The last thing I thought that day after he left drove me to the same road he had set me on. I didn’t want to end alone or die alone for that matter. But what was I to do if everyone thought I was a selfish monster who just wanted to kill and bring chaos? The only person who didn’t feel that particular way was the same man I was leaving without saying goodbye.

Stark seemed to have gathered his words together because he suddenly began spewing some shit on Andrei. shit, he didn’t like it.

“The girl is no selfish girl. Only a fool like yourself would think so. Only a blind man would propose such a thing.” His brows were furrowed but Otherwise, he was calmly standing at the bottom of the stairs sipping his milk. He seemed like he would continue but I made sure to stop him

“Andrei, no.”

“I see. She holds you hostage and controls you, doesn’t she?” Stark countered, a smirk settling in his features. I pinched my nose, sighing loudly.

“You have to leave with this buffoon?” I walked down to his side, muttering an annoyed yes. “I’m sadder for you than him.” A chuckle escaped him as he hugged my shoulders with one arm. I tried to push him away but found no will to do so. I would miss Andrei. He felt like the father I never had. Worry settled in my stomach knowing I had been here and I would no longer be if anything happened to him. I hugged him back, despite my better judgment and the four pairs of eyes staring back at me.

“Don’t forget about me, violet. Nor dear Razvan.’ He told me after letting me go. I nodded before calling back to my two companions. Stark came down, slowly walked to the front door. Bucky at his heels. They both turned. Bucky’s face had some sort of emotion I couldn't decipher. I thought I could, but I doubt he would feel happy about finding someone genuine to spend my days with.

Stark, on the other hand, looked at Andrei as if he had grown an extra head.

“I’m confused. Aren’t you supposed to be dying at her touch or something? Are you sure she didn’t threaten you to act this way?” The funny thing was, he sounded genuinely confused. The skepticism in his voice hurt my feelings but the mere fact it was stark made me forget quickly. He was an insensitive prick with a personal vendetta.

“Take this fool away before I turn him into a human pastry,” Andrei commented. I walked towards them, chuckling. “Ai grijă, violet aprins.” Take care, fiery violet. The elder said before we shut the door behind us. my heart swelled at his words. I knew I would long for those quiet evenings where it would rain and we would sit down in the living room with a book, quietly enjoying our presence. We laughed and made new and invented pastries in the kitchen for days, always looking for new and innovative flavors. I would miss the man that had treated me like his daughter.

“Take care, Pop.” I whispered to myself. Not thinking a long-haired blue-eyed soldier would hear.

And just like that, we disappeared quietly into the night and I said goodbye to one of the most important people in my life.

James let me know they came in the Quinjet, that enormous thing I had refused to sit on two years ago. the walk was not far from where we were and we found it in a while.

The Quinjet was hidden behind one of the buildings next to the bakery. the gigantic thing sleeping while we arrived to climb up. clint stood outside, his arms crossed. that man always looked like he was in a power pose.

“Romania? What is it with chased people and Romania?” Confusion and genuine interest were written all over his face.

Barton had always been a friend before I knew the truth. Nat told me she had told him in a drunken stupor. he tried to talk to her about telling me but she didn’t listen. I didn’t hold it against him because I knew he wasn’t actively participating but he didn’t do anything either.

I shrugged. “It’s a good hiding place. too many criminals organizations for you to matter. nobody cares who the hell you are as long as you keep quiet.”

“Good shadow place.” Bucky added as he tried to help me get in the Quinjet. I ignored his hand, focusing on Clint’s face.

“Exactly.” My response was clipped. if he was fishing for a normal conversation he was in for a treat.

After a while, we took off. My legs became restless as I sat in front of Stark and Bucky while Clint piloted the flying thing. boredom pushed me to get up from my seat and walk towards the front of the Quinjet. that, and Straks glare along with the awkwardness of Bucky’s movements.

Clint’s focused face came into view as I sat beside him. silence engulfed the both of us before he broke the silence with some words I didn’t expect.

“We missed you.” it was a quiet remark but full of shocking force. I just sat there, wide-eyed looking towards the already clearing sky. I looked towards him and forced myself to respond. a scoff came out of me, causing Clint to look rapidly towards me.

“You have no reason to believe me, but it’s the truth. Nat was pretty shaken up when you left. we looked for you everywhere and decided you didn’t want to be found. that you needed some time. it took you longer than we thought.”

“You didn’t find me because you didn’t look. You don’t have to lie to me, Barton.” I said, masking the hurt I felt with anger. why keep lying to me? I knew they didn’t care sop they didn’t need to act as they did.

“What? we did loo-” He never finished his sentence since Stark’s voice boomed around the small space. he came to let us know where would land soon as if we didn’t know already. Clint was the pilot, it was impossible for us to not know. suspicion arose in my chest but I soon forgot it when I saw the massive compound below us.

✹✹✹ I would be lying if I said my stomach wasn’t fluttering and my hands trembled slightly. I subtly rubbed my hands in my jeans, hoping to get some moisture away. But, there was something else bothering me. It had been there for a little while. The emptiness in my chest divided in two, as though… I don’t even know. The doors slid with a swift sound and my heart rate hit new floors.

I tried to avoid showing any emotion I felt. Seeing them surrounding the long table, all in their daily clothing made it hard to remember. I couldn’t show the happiness of seeing them all right after two years. Nor could I show the excitement deep in my bones seeing Wanda’s face. I couldn’t forget the damage (situation) those high-held beings made to my heart.

I looked at them with a mask of indifference firmly placed.

Wanda was the first to step forwards, as I knew she would. I didn’t expect her to but a part of me screamed how she had been the only real friend through the year I spent in this cage. I resisted the urge to hug her, touch her, and receive the reassurance I so deeply wanted.

“I thought- we thought you were dead.” The revelation shocked me. It felt as though they couldn’t believe I was alive. But I was. The question was… why did they think so?

“Nop. Still kicking.” I replied.

“Unfortunately.” I heard Stark mutter under his breath. I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to kick him. I could make him feel a true kick in his brain. And his ass, too.

“Y/n!” A high-pitched voice came from the corner next to me. The smiley face of Pepper Potts came rushing towards me, engulfing me in a hug. My nerve endings shot and I prayed my instinctive responses wouldn’t go through. Fortunately for me, they didn’t. Before I could even think to hold her back—which I wouldn’t have done anyway— she stepped back. Smile intact and a gleam in her eyes capable of illuminating the whole room.

“Jesus. You’ve changed so much!” Her hands settled on my shoulder, holding softly and slightly shaking my shocked frame. “I missed you.” Her vice took a sweet edge and her head lolled to the side. Her eyes scrutinized me with the look of a mother who had just seen her child after a hard year abroad. I resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably out of her grasp. I wasn’t used to this.

“Honey, leave the feral alien alone.” Tony’s voice reached my ears. “We have important matters to discuss.”

“God, Tony. Give us a break. We haven’t seen the kid in two years.” Natasha’s ______ filled the room as I saw her taking steps towards me. I noticed there were no relaxed steps but tense and wary. Her eyes held a sort of apology mixed with caution.

I just stared. Deep inside I didn’t know how to react to someone I hadn’t seen in a long time, someone who betrayed me gets closer. Her body language told me she was sorry but still cautious of my reaction but I didn’t know if I should forgive her. Her right hand stretched towards my frame. I shifted uncomfortably in place, moving slightly away from her.

I saw her eyes roam my body, noticing the discomfort. She came to a halt three feet away from me. Her lips were pursed as she let her head drop for a second. She recovered quickly, extending her same hand towards me, this time to shake my hand.

“It’s good to have you back, Y/n.”

I took her hand in mine, shaking firmly. I nodded my head towards her. My lips pursed. The movement of Wanda’s body caught my eye. She stepped closer to me, her hands nervously trembling beside her big, red jumper.

“Can I hug you?” Hearing those words coming out of her froze the ongoing flow of blood through my veins. I was shocked, to say the least. I bet I looked like a gaping fish as an incomprehensible string of detached words escaped my lips. Everyone else seemed as surprised as I was. For completely different reasons I would bet. As Stark had said, they thought I was a free being.

She waited patiently, probably aware of the shock and ongoing battle I had inside me. She was the only one aware of my thoughts about showing anything besides contempt. And she knew why. But I sent it all to hell and for once, I did what I wanted to do. I nodded.

Her smile was worth enough as she moved quickly towards me, as though worried I would change my opinion. Her thin arms wrapped around my neck, my lack of height apparent as my 5’1 ass reached her shoulders. I resisted the urge to cry as I wrapped my arms around her back, relishing in a familiar face that didn’t hate my only existence.

“I missed you.” It was a whisper, only for me to hear. A small smile escaped my lips as hope blossomed in my chest. Hope that maybe I wasn’t a lost cause. Hope that maybe someday I could have a family.

“I did too, Red.” I murmured back. Careful to not raise my voice as I didn’t want anyone to know anything. I felt oddly vulnerable to be hugging someone let alone hugging someone in front of seven people. I noticed Vision staring and I gave him a subtle nod, a small smile creeping upon my lips. He nodded back with that usual blank expression not in compass with the feelings he harbored. After some time, I let her go before Stark had another remark to make.

I noticed Steve leaning against a far-away table, maybe ten feet away from where I was. His head lowered, eyes on the ground. His arms surrounded his build, hugging himself with a heavy frown on his face. He didn’t want to look towards me and I thought I knew why. He was ashamed of what he did. He was guilty anyway you looked at it. He was guided by Bucky to do everything. He followed the man despite knowing it was wrong. Not because your friend tells you to throw yourself out the window means you’ll do it. He knew full well what was wrong and right. He knew Barnes' proposal was as low as a man could get.

If he didn’t apologize and acknowledge what he did, he was dead to me. I mean, he had tried to apologize that day, but I was devastated and no words came through my anger.

There were a few handshakes and subtle nods here and there before I noticed a presence missing. I looked around for the usual big man with an overinflated sense of heroism but didn’t find him. He was big enough for anyone to spot him. I felt a pang in my chest and a tingle at the back of my head and I knew something was wrong. The air shifted and my hands started trembling slightly.

“Where’s my brother?” I asked, my voice slightly shaky. I tried to compose myself, knowing he had to be alright or I would’ve felt something.

“We don’t know. We couldn’t get a hold of him.” Natasha replied. I noticed the subtle worry etched in her face lines.

Suddenly, I understood that emptiness inside me. That swirling emotion unlatched to an earthy body. One of the connectors inside of me, besides bucky’s, was empty. It didn’t have any energy to connect to.

No.

No.

No.

I didn’t realize I began hyperventilating while the word repeated itself over and over in my head. My chest rose and fell quickly while the air got caught in my throat. My hand shot out to grasp anything in reach I could hold myself up with.

“Y/n?! What’s wrong?” Wanda was the first to step forward and grab my elbow. Her soft touch didn't completely register in my sensory sense. The only thing in my mind was the heavy colorless fog swirling around in my insides.

The worst part was, I didn’t know which of my brothers it belonged to. I thought about them and how long it had been since I had seen them. Since I had been with them.

“Can you all excuse me?” I pulled myself together and without waiting for a response, I hurried across the room. I thought about the me that they just saw but somewhere deep down, I didn’t care.

I hurried, passing Steve's body. This time, he looked intently at me. I didn’t expect him to stand up and grab my shoulders. By this point, my vision was blurry and I tried hard to reconnect with the missing life essence.

“Y/n, I-”

“Can we do this later, Rogers?” I spat, cutting him off before getting my elbow out of his grasp. I left, shuddering and feeling a wave of anger rising in my chest.

What a good way to make a comeback.

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[mimisempai]

I will always wait for you

Summary:

Sometimes to work out his nightmares, Sam goes flying and Bucky waits for him, knowing that he will always come home.

🌈 Happy Pride month ! 🌈

To celebrate, 1 day, 1 story.

Be ready for smiles, laugh, fluff, tooth rotthing fluff, positive vibes and a lot of love!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31925692

1719 words - Rating G

As Bucky slowly awoke from his sleep, he became aware of three things. The first was the absence of a warm body next to him, the second was the morning light streaming in through the open window, and the third was a small post-it note, lit by the ray of sunlight and lying on the pillow where Sam was not.

He took the post-it and read what Sam had written. It was short, and exactly what Bucky had expected.

Bucky,

I had a bad night. I needed to go flying.

I love you,

Sam

Taking a quick look around the room, he saw the briefcase that contained Sam's armor opened which confirmed what Sam had written to him. Shuri had done a good job of allowing the armor to have multiple appearance options, so Sam regularly went flying just for fun or often to clear his head, as it was now the case.

Bucky quickly understood that it was not because Sam didn't want to see him or couldn't stand his presence. Sometimes Sam just needed that to feel better, to fly free, without purpose or mission, to exorcise the demons that haunted him. Bucky better than anyone could understand that.

Bucky decided it was time to start his day.

After making the bed and changing into a casual outfit, he headed for the kitchen, stopping to look at the pictures that filled the hallway wall.

There were family photos there, both blood-related and not, many of them taken by Sam. He ran his fingertip along the frame of a photo taken on their wedding day. A rather cute photo that the photographer had been desperate to take, Sam smiling, his face framed by Sarah and Joaquin kissing him on both cheeks, each on one side. Sam's sister Sarah had welcomed Bucky into their family, no questions asked, and Joaquin, Sam's teammate had become like a little brother to Bucky.

Bucky, who had been alone for so long, had found happiness with this family, he was bound to them with a bond stronger than blood.

He couldn't help but smile when he saw this picture and the one next to it where he and Sam were supposed to be looking at the camera, but were looking at each other. Bucky was happy to see Sam's smile immortalized in this picture. But his throat tightened every time he saw his own face in that picture. He looked so happy.

A happiness that at one time in his life he never thought he would have.

Sam was everywhere in their house.

When Bucky arrived in the kitchen, he saw his breakfast tray ready, as they had always done for years, the first one to get up would prepare it for the other. This morning there was a can of coffee he didn't know about. Bucky removed the post-it note stuck to the can to read it.

Carlos said that your coffee hasn't been delivered yet, but I found one that tastes almost the same. Try it. Or throw it away and get a Starbucks if you're not happy.

Love.

He put the post-it note in his pocket with the first one he'd found on the pillow.

When Sam had become Captain America ten years ago, knowing that Bucky had chosen to stay in Delacroix most of the time unless there was an urgent mission that required his skills, they knew they would have complicated schedules. Sam would regularly have to leave unexpectedly, without them necessarily having a chance to say goodbye.

So Sam had started leaving post-it notes, and Bucky was responding to them. Over the years, this has become an essential part of their relationship. Not just for urgent matters, but also for general messages, and sometimes just a gentle thought written down for the other to find later.

Bucky sipped his coffee, which he had to admit was not bad at all. He looked at the calendar hanging on the wall with scribbled events and Sam's work schedule for the week hanging next to it. He saw that Sam would have to leave for periods of several days, lots of events and press conferences. He was disappointed for a brief moment, as they would not see each other for several days. Some might say that he had got used to it, but for him it meant that after ten years the attachment was the same if the thought of Sam's absence had that effect on him.

But he wanted to make their lives more pleasant, as Sam did, so he went to get the ingredients for some muffins. Chocolate chip muffins were Sam's favourite. Bucky had discovered a passion for cooking. Well, especially when it came to cooking for Sam. The others...

He took one for himself, then packed the others in a plastic box, and stuck a post-it on it telling Sam that he would be of no use to anyone if he starved.

After folding the laundry he decided to sit in the living room and read, today was a day of rest for both of them after all so he was going to enjoy it.

After two hours of reading, Sam wasn't home yet, but it wasn't nearly long enough to start worrying. Maybe he had decided to visit friends or family. But it was more likely that he was flying high in the sky. He had once told Bucky that there were only two things that made him forget his nightmares: flying and Bucky's arms. Too bad he didn't wake Bucky up and let him help him with the second.

Looking for something to distract his mind, he took the small notebook that Sam had given him the other day. He had seen that the previous one was full. Sam had given him the first notebook 10 years ago, to replace Steve's. He told him that since this was a new life, he should have a new notebook to fill with positive things. Since then, Bucky had been writing down things he wanted to do, visit, eat, listen to. This was his second notebook. As he flipped through it, he found a new little post-it note

I took the liberty of adding a few lines... I hope you won't mind.

I love you (so much more than 10 years ago and less than tomorrow.)

Bucky smiled, feeling moved, and ran his fingers over the notebook, tracing the familiar curves of Sam's writing.

Then he went to the last page where Sam had written something.

-Listening to Trouble Man (You stubborn old man)

-Trying a new delicious recipe for Sam (though nothing outdoes your muffins)

-Being nice to Redwing (jealous of a bot, how cute of you)

Shaking his head and laughing, he put the notebook back in its place.

He continued to walk around the living room. He found himself in front of the fireplace. Winters were not cold, so a fireplace was not common in Louisiana homes. And yet it was Sam who had wanted it when they built their house after Bucky had confided in him that what haunted him most in his nightmares was the cold. The memory of his cryogenic sleeps.

So when the roles were reversed and Bucky needed warmth after a nightmare. When he didn't want to disturb Sam or when Sam wasn't there, He would light the fire and sit in front of it until the heat made him forget his nightmares.

The way their relationship had started, who would have thought they would have come to this. Certainly not him. But they were perfect together in a way Bucky would never have dared to dream.

Bucky figured Sam's nightmare must have been particularly hard on him, to keep him out there for so long, but he trusted him to tell him about it when he needed to.

In the meantime, he picked up an old record and headed for the record player. Another present from Sam when Bucky had told him he missed the sound of old records.

I hadn't anyone till you.

Bucky remembered when this song had come out. As he listened to the lyrics now, he thought they were prescient.

I hadn't anyone

Till you

I was the lonely one

Till you

I used to lie awake and wonder

If there could be

A someone in this wide world

Just made for me

His eyes fell on another post-it note on the record cover.

Bucky, you little sap, I'm sure you think this song is written for you. The someone just made for you, you think that's me right?

Well you're right and it's mutual.

With love from your fool in love.

He read it several times and put it in his pocket with the others. The little piece of paper may not have been warm, but Bucky felt a familiar warmth spread through him.

Music filled the room and Bucky opened the living room window to let the breeze in.

He lay down on the couch, the book he had started this morning in his hand, resting his head on one armrest and his feet on the other. He quickly became absorbed in his reading, absentmindedly humming the song. When he got to the part Sam mentioned in his little note, Bucky began to sing out loud as well, and as his voice faded with the music, he heard the door open behind him.

Bucky sat up and turned his head, Sam was home.

"Stay where you are, love."

Sam came to join him, kissed him gently before sitting against him, Bucky closed his arm around him.

"Hi," Sam said softly, a half smile on his face. "I missed you."

"Hi," Bucky replied, pressing a kiss to Sam's head. "I missed you too. Did you have a good time?"

"Yes, I did," Sam replied. "Did you have a good time too? I'm sorry I wasn't there most of the day."

"Of course you were there," Bucky replied. It was the truth. Sam was always there, even when he wasn't physically there. Bucky could see him everywhere. There were traces of him, of them, everywhere. And when he left, he always came home. In Bucky's arms.

He tightened his embrace and whispered softly, "You are here. And I will always wait for you. Always."

_____ I think the sappy one is me but well...

I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

Not beta'd

[wolfs-hunt1]

Wolf Kisses 2

Pairing: Stucky x Shapeshifter reader

Summary: Steve and Bucky find out the truth and end up trying to help (I can’t do summaries, I still have no idea what to write here)

Word count: 2048

Warnings: angsty,  sorry for any typo

A/N: Still not sure where I want to take this XD, but I’m enjoying writing this fic a lot, so until I feel like it isn’t over I’ll keep making some more chapters. Can’t guarantee another one for next monday, because university is about to start, but I’ll try not to take too long.

THANK YOU ALL so much for the suport you have giving this story! I love you all!!!

Tag list is OPEN

— — — — —

Part 1

Bucky buries his head further into a warm neck, inhaling deeply the foreign scent. Bucky doesn’t remember Steve ever having a mild fruity scent on him. He holds the body closer, long locks of hair getting tangled on his fingers. Ok now his sleep heavy mind knows something is wrong, Steve’s hair was short. His mind starts to wake up more, body stirring slowly until he can stand to open his eyes is the barely-there sunlight.

The sight before him made him real back a bit, hand reaching for the knife he kept hidden under his pillow. A woman was nestled in their bed, previously curling herself around bucky’s body, but once he got away, she curled into Steve’s seeking the warmth they radiated.

“Hey…” he whispers, shaking her shoulder for a few seconds. No answer at all. so he tried again, this time a bit louder “Hey, you…” this actually makes Steve stir in his sleep, arms tightening around the girl’s middle and pulling her head into the crock of his neck.

“What Buck…” he grumbles still asleep.

“Steve wake up.” Bucky sais now more forcefully making Steve open his eyes and look at the girl in his arms, alarmed when he doesn’t recognize her. With all the commotion the girl also wakes up, stretching a bit and looking blearily up at the two towering super-soldiers surrounding her. Then her eyes trail to the knife Bucky’s pointing at her and she scrambles out of the best so fast she gets her legs tangled in the sheets and falls, crawling the rest of the way until her back is flush to the window.

She’s breathing hard, hands raised in defense. She looks so tiny tucked in a ball in the corner of their room. Steve looks at the girl and then the knife and puts a hand softly on Bucky’s arm, silently telling him to put it away.

Bucky looks at her, taking in her appearance, and suddenly stops. Her leg was wrapped in bandages, the same leg the wolf had had her bandages. He looks at her eyes, questions zooming past in his head. ‘what did this mean? who is she? where is the wolf?’

“Ok, let’s calm down.” Steve tried to dissipate the electrically charged room, slowly climbing out of the bed and reaching for some sweatpants to put on. Bucky didn’t move from the spot, gaze locked on her, and making her shrink more into herself. From where he stood it looked like she was trying to melt into the glass. He could see Steve approached her softly, like one would a sacred animal, a shirt in his extended hand for her to take. She pulled the shirt down her head and hips, making sure all her body was covered in the oversized fabric. “What’s your name?” Steve tried to keep his voice soft, but even he was confused with what was happening.

“Y/N.” her voice was gruff and small like she hadn’t used it for months, and she had to clear her throat to make herself heard.

“How did you got here?” Steve asks, sitting in the corner of the bed to seem less intimidating to the poor girl.

“You… you brought me here.” her eyes are cast downwards, but she can still see Bucky’s scowl appear on his face. “I’m sorry….” she whispers.

“What do you mean we brought you here?”

“I'm… I’m a shapeshifter.” once neither of them said anything she continued, “I can turn into a wolf. ”

“Oh… you didn’t have to hide you know?” Steve said.

“Being hurt prevented me from shifting back, so I’ve been a wolf for this past week. I must have shifted back during the night…”

“So you’ve lied to us…” Bucky shoots, making you look up at him startled.

“I didn’t lie, I couldn’t even speak! I was being hunted, I ran for shelter. I didn’t ask for you guys to help me, I appreciate it though, but you can’t accuse me of lying.”

“Buck, calm down, let’s all try and get everything straightened up, without accusing anyone.” Bucky glared at him for a full minute before relenting and getting up from the bed, moving to the bathroom to get dressed.“Why don’t you join us downstairs for breakfast? We can talk better after a cup of coffee.” he offered you a kind simile with those words, and after considering it for a moment you relented and got up, leg still a bit sore.

Steve gave you some gym shorts for you to wear, despite having to tie the laces a bit better so they wouldn’t fall, and Bucky came out of the bathroom, fully clothed and a glare directed at you making you look at anywhere but him.

—

The kitchen was awfully silent, the only sounds were of the coffee pot dripping, and of the pancakes, Steve was flipping at the stove. You were awkwardly sitting at the stool behind the island counter, Bucky in front of you not saying a word, but you could see the war waging through his eyes.

The atmosphere was suffocating, and making your skin crawl with anxiety. “Look…” you started, “I know I should have said anything sooner, I’m sorry. But the fewer people that know my secret the safer I am.”

“What did you mean you were being hunted?” those are the first words Bucky has uttered in what seems like forever, and so you look at him to give him all of your attention, less he goes back to silently throw daggers at you.

“I… I haven’t seen my family in years. We were a small community of shapeshifters, just living our lives without hurting anyone until they came. Hydra. They burnt our houses to the ground. Killed anyone that tried to protect themselves and captured the rest.” your voice is cracking and so you take a deep breath to ground yourself before you continue. “I managed to run away, and I’ve been running ever since. I’ve been using that cabin whenever I need to recover from any wounds, I had no idea you were going to be there. I… I have been spotted a couple of weeks ago by a poacher. He saw me while I was out hunting, and he started to lay down traps to get me. A giant wolf’s pelt must be worth a lot.”

Steve had plated the pancakes and had put a plate in front of you while you were talking. When you finished and looked at them, he smiled and nodded his head to the place of food in front of you, encouraging you to eat something. You say a small thanks and take small bites from the buttery pancake.

“How did you managed to get stuck on a trap?” Bucky is silently taking in your words.

“After weeks of avoiding him and his traps he started to get more violent. He would hide loaded guns ready to fire with tripwires, he would burry the traps under the snow, he even tried to starve me by scaring away any prey I tried to hunt. In the end, it was the exhaustion of not having sleep in days and my hunger that made me lose focus, I stepped on a trap and panicked, I managed to break the chain and get away from there.

I reached the house to take shelter, honestly, I don’t know what I would do without you guys… I wouldn’t be able to turn back, so I would have just bled to death probably.”

“Hydra killed your family?” his voice is laced with anger and you can see the vein on his jaw thick, his metal fist is closed so tightly that if it were flesh the nails would have pierced the skin.

“They captured most of them. They wanted to use us for their own gains. Once our alpha refused to let them use us, they came back with guns and took them by force. They killed him right in front of me… They killed my father because he refused to stop protecting his pack.” you could feel the tears in your eyes spilling down your cheeks, shaky sobs being swallowed down so you wouldn’t be rendered to a blubbering mess in front of the two guys.

—

They let her stay up in their apartment, away from Tony and the experiments he had wanted to do to her wolf self. Bucky keeps his distance, he had felt like she had betrayed him, by hiding who she was, but at the same time, he understood why. She was on the run from hydra, for what she knew they could have tracked her to the cabin and took her.

They weren’t so surprised with what she was, Inhumans had been on shields radar for a long time, so having an entire population be able to turn into wolfs wasn’t such a big deal. The fact that hydra had hunted them and captured them, now that was alarming. Bucky had been silently devising an attack plan to try and find where they had been taken to after they were captured to go with a team to recover them. He knew what suffering at the hands of hydra felt like, and he didn’t want them to have to experience more of that if he could avoid it.

Steve had been talking to her all day, asking questions about her life on the run, and her wolf form, and the fact that she’s been living away neer that cabin for weeks now, with the only human contact she’s had, had been the poacher trying to kill her.

He’s startled from his thinking when he feels her hand on his shoulder, silently questioning if she could sit with him on the small sofa. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing.”

“No, no I do need. You two helped me without thinking twice, and I just used you both to keep me safe from the poacher. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was scared he would just have followed me and would kill me during the night. So I went to try and sleep on the floor of the cabin’s bedroom.”

“Really? I distinctly remember you hopping on the bed and trying to steal the blankets.” he jokes prompting her to shove him lightly with her shoulder.

“It was freezing in there, and you two are human heaters. So yeah, I also took advantage of that. Besides I didn’t hear you complaining, if anything I was almost going to die if you squeezed me any tighter while you were asleep, I might be fluffy, but I’m not a teddy bear you know?” this makes Steve laugh loudly, holding his shaking sides to try and not fall from his perch on the barstool.

“He doesn’t want to admit it, but he really likes to cuddle while asleep!” he wheezes out between fleeting breaths. You look at Bucky in time to see his red cheeks before he turns his face away from the two of you, grumbling something under his breath.

“Well guys, it’s getting late, I’ll take the couch, and then tomorrow you can let Tony know that his test subject has run away, and then I can just sneak out of the tower and I won’t bother you ever again.

“NO!” Bucky says a bit to fast startling both you and Steve. “I mean, you don’t need to leave. If you stay we can help you find your family.”

“Buck’s right. We’ve been hunting down Hydra bases for a while now, and if we do find where your family has been taken we can save them.”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t do that. Don’t give me hope with something you don’t know you can do. We don’t know if they can be save let alone if they are even still alive.”

“Hey…” Steve sais, getting up from the stool and coming to where you had stood up and started pacing, running his hand in your back comfortingly. “Yes, we don’t know that. But if there’s the smallest chance that we can find them, I think we should take it.” his baby blue eyes held a strength you had long thought lost, but they were enough to ground you and give you some hope.

Part 3

Tags:  @hidden-treasures21 @jelly-fishy-babie @thedarkplume @fallenoutofrose @animegirlgeeky @salveangeli @lokilokilokilokilokiloki

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 37

💖 first time reader click here 💖

Five more chapters to go, guys. This is coming to an end 😭 I enjoyed writing it so, so much! In this chapter we have fluff. Literally only fluff and snark, because my babies have suffered enough. And the remainder is gonna be the same. Because fuck pain.

Coulson was mad. Outwardly, of course, he seemed as level-headed as ever, handing out orders and signing papers out left and right, but coming to sit within five feet of him seemed like the worst mistake I had recently made. His phone was ringing practically non-stop and he answered every call, sometimes speaking in different languages I didn't understand, sometimes in rapid-fire English that sounded like Morse code to me.

I'd never been sent to the principal's office but I imagine that's how it feels like. Finally, his shoulders sagged and the breath he took in left his lungs slowly, deflating his body into a tense ball of quiet fury.

"You and mister Brock ruined months worth of investigation and undercover work," The agent finally spoke. "But I can't even be mad at you properly. We've apprehended the main culprit, detained all of his followers except select few that Dr. Xavier took upon himself to handle," His words shocked me; not at all the scolding I was expecting. A deeper part of me was even afraid I'd be taken away and buried under so much red tape not even Tony's seemingly endless money and influence could have gotten me out. "I... Really don't know what more to say." Coulson folded his hands atop the desk, looking over me with a blank look.

"A thank you would be nice," I let my mouth run before the words even really registered in my brain, the cursed thing.

The agent chortled, "Perhaps, we really do owe you a solid one," Before standing up and walking over to the coffee machine in the far corner of his office. "Coffee?" He motioned to a pile of empty cups next to it. I nodded and he set to work. "The guys should be back in two hours, tops," He remarked off-handedly, watching me out of the corner of his eye. There was no way he had missed how my body relaxed into the uncomfortable office chair at the news. "Nobody is hurt except Rogers but I think he'd find how to hurt himself even on recon duty." The man laughed, bringing over two cups of dark, delicious, steamiy hot bean juice. Nhghhgg.

"Steve is a dumbass," I agreed amicably, blowing over the rim of the cup. The stone of coffee on it's own seemed to wake up my previously anxious, half-empty half-racing brain. The past twelve hours were full of urgency, the team being called in for assistance in mere minutes after my and Venom's return to the tower.

They barely had time to wipe their tears and shelf their worries before the suit-up call came, haste hugs and kisses being traded on their way to the quinjet. Coulson showed up not much later after that, a quinjet of his own and a stack of papers for Eddie to fill out, stern instructions for me to follow him and stay glued to his side at all times. I didn't need to ask: it was obvious there was a rat in SHIELD, again. Thankfully, the rat was discovered before they could come and try to increase their odds by doing something to me; I'd hid out in Coulson's office, crashing down into a strange, most likely Venom-induced sleep as footsteps raced past the door.

I'd woken up anxious and disoriented, the owner of the office pacing along the furthest wall and pointedly whispering into his cellphone. The rest was history.

"Your father called," The agent remarked, watching my reaction carefully. "Said to call him back whenever you can."

I was drained, beyond wrung out, and not just from my latest stunt as a parasitic symbiotic alien's host. The past couple of months were a nightmare, an anxiety-riddled, paranoia-spiced mess of a shit show. I was very much looking forward to breathing freely and enjoying my science without hiding my WIPs, enjoying my relationship (s) without fear of being abducted and sending my men into a panicked, destructive spiral.

My voice remained even as I carefully contemplated and spoke my next words. "He can go fuck himself. Him and that harpy of a woman," I sighed: disappointed in my parents, but not surprised. "I'm freshly out of fucks to give. I'm done."

Coulson, if he even was surprised, didn't show it. His expression remained neutral and supportive. "I understand you. There's enough basis for us to aid you in creating a new identity for you, if you'd like," He pushed a stack of papers towards me.

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. It would be handy, sure, I could be rid of the curse that became of my family name and my parents couldn't legally do anything at all to me; on the other side there was my name plastered on several inventions and projects I'd done over the years. In all my years, I was taught that my name is to be my business card.

The decision was obvious. "No, thank you," I looked at him, hoping to convey the sincerity. "I think I will be okay."

He smiled and went back to his paperwork, all but verbally dismissing me. As soon as I finished my coffee and washed the mug, the couch called to me once again and I curled up under the fleece blanket Coulson had thrown over me while I slept, alternating my attention between sneaking glances at his concentrated form and my cellphone and the few meager games it had. There was no signal and no wi-fi access on the Helicarrier. Security reasons, blah blah blah...

A knock sounded out, startling me out of my sluggish thoughts; one of Coulson's hands crawled down to one of the drawers on his right side where I assumed he had hidden a gun. "Come in," He called out, shooting me a pointed look. I sat up, alert.

"M'here to pick up - uh - a Baby," A tired but amused, familiar voice called out. Clint stepped into the room, still wearing his dirty and bloody uniform, and, as my eyes briefly scanned him, the archer appeared to be unhurt save for a few bruises here and there. His eyes landed on me immediately, visibly relieved.

"Waa," I deadpanned indignantly, raising my hands like a toddler would do when they wanted to be picked up. The only thing Clint was missing was a courier's ball cap.

"I assume the mission went smoothly?" Coulson asked, a soft grin and even softer eyes landing on our interaction.

Clint nodded affirmative, walking over and picking me up with ease, disregarding my shierk completely and stopping only when I poked him in the ear - closest appendage to me - in retaliation. His eyes were laughing and his tone was flat. "Caw caw, motherfucker," He announced to me flatly, waving goodbye to Coulson.

We passed more than a dozen agents giving us the biggest side-eye as I dangled over his shoulder, ass up in the air, fiddling with the numerous straps of his gear as Clint power-walked us to the Avengers quinjet. I'd even stuck out my tongue to some dude pointing a finger at us.

My family was already loaded into the vehicle, all in various stages of dirty, bloody and undressed. Coulson's words were true - only Steve sported a wide bandage over his shoulder, neck and head - one look at Bucky and I just knew the Captain would be regretting his stupidity in a few hours time. Even Stephen was there, looking unhurt but very annoyed and tired, as he hovered a few feet off the ground with Cloaky majestically swaying behind him.

"And what the fuck was that little performance for?" I asked once Clint deposited me in the very front row, between a dozing Bruce and a tinkering Tony.

"I had strict instructions from the Hulk," The archer grinned, pushing a few buttons on the dashboard of the vehicle. In seconds, we took off home.

"Oh, hi," Bruce must've heard his green counterpart being mentioned; his eyes cracked open just as I smiled at the scientist and reached over to brush his curly mop of hair out of his face. "M'yes, Hulk is demanding you do not set foot on the ground these days," Bruce was sleepy and warm, so soft when he kissed my hand, I felt my heart swell.

"Gonna spoil me rotten, you lot," I snorted, keeping the happy smile and the warm feeling as Stephen came back from the Astral world, opening his eyes and giving me a grin of his own.

"That's my job," Tony mumbled, still very occupied with a part of his suit. I turned around expecting a kiss; I had to stifle an ugly snort upon discovering one of the parts of his Iron Man suit got damaged and stuck, making a part of the chestplate render one of his arms temporarily immobile. Tony looked like a frustrated toddler building Legos.

"Someone get me a screwdriver and some pliers," I gently pried away the calloused fingers away from the jagged piece of metal, kissing Tony's cheek in the moments until Natasha handed me the required instruments. Tony was free, grimacing in discomfort as he stretched and rotated his arm, in little under ten minutes. "What happened to the nanosuit?" I asked, not remembering the last time I'd seen Tony in one of his older, clunkier creations.

"They had some sort of technopath mutant," He grumbled - I had discovered the source of his ire. "Turns out, Bruce snuck in my special anti-mutant suit I'd made ages ago. Nanosuit got destroyed in seconds and Hulk had to carry me back to the quinjet for a change of equipment," Despite his sour mood, Tony was visibly more relaxed than since the day I confessed I'd been drugged. "Brucie-bear, this is exactly why it remained a prototype."

"It's better to get stuck in a suit than to be a meat pancake on the sidewalk," Used to Tony's tantrums, Bruce merely blinked and continued eating the chocolate that he procured only God knew where.

I locked eyes with Stephen, both of us shaking our heads in almost identical, semi-fond semi-annoyed way. Ah, sweet sweet normalcy.

There were towers of pizza boxes as we arrived in the tower; a couple of agents got all but yeeted out by Tony, with little to no thank you as they had been the ones that arranged the food for us - still, I understood Tony's dislike of the super-secret organisation and merely paid the two for the pizza, politely waving goodbye as they side-eyed Tony with disdain.

Then, I had to tow both Clint and Thor as they attempted to begin eating, still wearing muddy bloody clothes - of course, I did not possess the physical strength required to handle two adult men, so I merely began a small lecture on parasites (Stephen gleefully joined in) and both of them scattered towards the showers like two spooked little first-graders.

I also used the brief moment of stagnation to hug Loki; these days he didn't freeze in surprise but rather warmly hugged me back, whispering something cheeky to me as I buried my face in his chest. Stephen was the one to cough extra-loudly to attempt to separate us - it was, once again, unanimously decided to have a family dinner and a cuddle pile straight after. Food coma had never sounded nicer.

"So, what'd Coulson say to you?" Clint asked curiously as we all settled in, freshly showered and those who needed it, re-bandaged. I was warm and toasty between Tony and Stephen, wearing the former's gym shorts and the latter's hoodie, Bruce's t-shirt underneath it. The scientist himself was drooling onto Tony's shoulder, somwhere between sleep and awareness, glasses askew.

"He basically thanked me and offered me a new identity," I shrugged, polishing off the last of my smoothie and handing the second bottle over to Loki. As usual, no food was wasted and I always had someone to finish my leftovers, especially since Bucky tended to think I could eat as much as him and kept trying to overfeed me like a foie gras goose.

"Congrats, you've been adopted," Natasha snorted from her place between Clint and Steve. Only the red of her hair was visible behind the man-bulk and the blankets.

"Uh," My response was, as always, deeply informative and astute.

"He likes to take in strays," Clint full-belly laughed. "Me at first, then Natasha. He's got a soft spot for Tony and Bucky but he won't admit it."

My eyebrows rose. "That's... That's my job?" I remembered the whole Venom/Eddie situation, our rogue wizard. Coulson was aiming for my place- the audacity! "He can't just do that!"

"And you can?" Stephen's finger booped my nose, making me huff and cuddle up to Tony, turning my butt towards the sorcerer to show him exactly what I thought about his observations. He only laughed harder. "Sounds like someone's a little jealous."

"Okay, boomer," I rolled my eyes. Stephen Strange, a supreme troll is what he is.

"But that's why you love me," He continued as others around us groaned and snorted, too used to us teasing each other about our age difference and my old man kink. Whatever, I got to bang my hot old men anyways.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Night Shift

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4,189

Warnings: a few bad language words (sorry Stevie), fluff, I think that’s all

Summary: Your bad day turns worse when you're given the night shift at work. But you find it has more perks than you original thought. 

A/N: Here it is! My first ever posted/published work! This is a bit new for me for quite a few reasons. 1. I usually write OCs. 2. I'm used to writing 3rd POV and past tense. 3. I like writing series and longer fics. 4k is actually pretty mild for me. Also, I'm planning on doing more first date fics with the Avengers, but we'll see if I keep up with that. Thank you and enjoy!

(Pictures not mine but collage is)

Today is not your favorite day. You woke up late, your laundry isn’t done because the machines were all being used when you tried, your roommate didn’t do the dishes so you had to do them before you left, your car broke down - meaning you had to take the Subway - and now you’re working an extra shift because your stupid coworker didn’t show up.

Who even comes in to get coffee at 9 at night? The sky is dark, the stars are out, and everyone should be getting ready for bed - including you. God. You love New York, but sometimes you wish the damn city would just go to sleep for once in it’s goddamn existence.

You’re practically asleep on your feet, getting ready to close in fifteen minutes, when the door opens, the little bell ringing in response. You rub your eyes and turn from where you’re wiping down the back counters to speak to the wackjob who wants coffee at this cursed hour.

You freeze, your eyes meeting stunning azures framed by dark lashes. Thick, soft, chocolate locks fall down past his ears and into those alluring eyes. Lips, perfectly pink and very tempting, pull up in a delicious smile. He’s got a jawline sharp as a knife, only accentuated by the dark scruff covering it. Jesus Christ this man is attractive. He’s also vaguely familiar…

He strolls up to the counter, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans that pulled taunt around his thick thighs. His shirt is pulled tightly across his shoulders, muscles flexing beneath the fabric, threatening to tear the material with every movement.

“Hello.” You thank whatever deity that might be out there that your voice doesn’t shake as you greet the gorgeous god of a man.

“Hi there, doll. Cody’s off today, huh?” Even his voice is breathtaking.

“Yeah. He didn’t show up. Is he a friend of yours?”

The man tilts his head in confusion, before his eyes light up realization. “Oh, no. No. I just come here a lot.”

“At nine at night?”

He shrugs, a small blush rising on his cheeks. “It’s the only time I get to myself really.” It clicks in your head who this man is when he raises his hand to rub the back of his neck. Black metal gleams in place of tanned skin.

“You’re Bucky Barnes!” You blink at him in disbelief. His hand quickly finds its way back to his pocket while he chuckles awkwardly. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. You’re one of my favorite Avengers! After Black Widow, obviously, but-” You stop rambling, feeling heat rise to your face. “God, I’m tired. Uh, what can I get you?” You punch in the order that he gives you and look up shyly. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

He smirks and leans on the counter. “How about a name, darlin'? Yours, specifically.”

You roll your eyes, unable to contain the snort you give. “I’ll be right back with your order, sir.” You start making his drink, avoiding his eyes that you feel watching your every move. Usually you had another worker helping to make drinks, but since there’s only ten minutes until closing, you’re alone to close up the shop tonight.

You also usually only write on the cup when there’s more than one person, but you find yourself writing down your own name on his cup. It is part of his order, after all.

“Here you go.” You repeat his order, handing his cup to him.

He raises an amused eyebrow. “You forgot-” You interrupt him by clicking your tongue and turning the cup in his hands. He looks down at it curiously, before grinning and reading the ink out loud. The way your name falls off his lips has you holding in a shiver. “Thanks, sugar.” You watch him leave the shop, whistling a nameless tune, and wonder if Cody would mind switching shifts more.

Turns out, Cody had been arrested, so your boss had to hire a new kid who, because of school, couldn’t do the night shifts. Which meant your shifts changed. Not that you mind all that much; it gives you more chances to see Bucky.

When he said he comes in often, he wasn’t lying. Occasionally he stays while you clean and lock up and the two of you get lost in conversation under the city lights outside the shop. He usually orders and leaves with a witty comment and a wink, probably off to save the world from aliens or Nazis. He always orders the same thing, but he always asks for a little something extra, different every night.

“The usual?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Anything else?”

“Your phone number would be great.”

~

“I’ll get right on your drink, Buck.”

“Awesome. Can you add your favorite flowers to that, too? Thanks, sugar.”

~

“I’m gonna change it up today, dollface.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll have the usual, but on the side I want to know what your favorite dessert is.”

He’s such a charmer. You aren’t sure if he’s just flirting or if he actually likes you. You think maybe he does that with every girl - waitresses, cashiers, secretaries - and he’s just being friendly. You’re sure after being stuck as a brainwashed assassin for nearly a century, flirting and cracking jokes with people makes him feel more normal. Still, you can’t help but wish that maybe the relationship you have now would become…more.

It’s not until he shows up a few weeks after your first meeting that you finally get an answer to whether or not he really likes you.

The bell rings, signifying a customer coming into the shop. You know it’s Bucky by the watch on your wrist; in the past few weeks of working the night shift, only one other person came in at nine o’clock.

“Good evening, beautiful.” A smile lifts the corners of your mouth at the familiar smooth voice that you could listen to all day. “Whatcha doin’ down there?”

You straighten up and look over the counter. “It’s called inventory. How’s your day been, Buckaroo?”

“Better now that I get to see your pretty face.”

You roll your eyes, face heating up and a small smile gracing your features. “Give me a minute and I’ll have your drink done. Anything extra?”

“This is a bit riskier than normal, but I’ve been wanting to try it for a while. Can I get your schedule?”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion as he smirks confidently. “My schedule?”

“Yeah. I just need to know something.”

“What would that be?”

“You free on Saturday, doll?”

* * * * * * * *

Saturday comes much too slowly for your liking, especially considering he asked you out only two days prior. He didn't tell you what you'd be doing today, so you decide on a casual sundress that you can play off as fancy if you need it to be. The color and style compliments you and your beautiful features perfectly and you can only hope he agrees. Your roommate assured you you looked gorgeous before going out with some of their other friends this morning.

You're just putting the finishing touches on your outfit for the day when a knock on your door sounds throughout your apartment. You check your watch: 10:30 on the dot. Just like he said. You get up too quickly, causing you to trip on your own feet and stumble - but luckily you catch yourself before you fall. Feeling simultaneously embarrassed and relieved he didn't see your clumsy actions, you head to open the door.

A bouquet of your favorite flowers appeared once you open the door, bright cerulean eyes shining at you from behind them. He grins, said eyes scanning your figure. "You look pretty as a picture, doll."

You duck your head bashfully, taking the flowers from him. "Thank you." You not so subtly check him out as you put the flowers in a vase. Like always, Bucky is absolutely stunning: his brown locks frame his face, falling into those mesmerizing blues, which are even more so due to the dark blue t-shirt under the light bIue jean jacket hugging his muscled torso. Dark jeans pull taunt across those thighs, his large hands in his pockets casually. You find yourself frowning when you notice his left hand is covered by a black glove. You want to say something, but decide against it, too anxious to ruin the date with this god of a man.

He clears his throat, which brings your gaze back to his face. You feel yourself heat up at the smirk on his perfectly pink lips. "Uh, I, um, so...what are we doing today?"

"I thought we could have some fun today, since all you ever seem to do is work."

"I don't always work." You quickly defend. He raises a disbelieving eyebrow, making you drop your head again. "Okay. Maybe I don't get out much."

He chuckles. "Good thing. That way I get you to myself." There's that smug smirk again. "As for what we're doing, that's for me to know and you to find out. I'd wear walking shoes if I were you, though."

You give him a curious look, moving over to grab your keys, phone, and wallet, before slipping on your sneakers. "I don't get a hint or anything?"

"And ruin the surprise? Where's the fun in that?" You giggle a bit as the two of you head out your door and down the hall. "I didn't know if you mind motorcycles, so I just borrowed Steve's car." He tells you in the elevator.

You talk about motorcycles and your opinion of them as you walk out your building and into the bright Spring sun. Your eyes widen at the nice Camaro parked in the street that he leads you to. "Wow."

"Yeah." Bucky nods in agreement. "Tony had it custom made for Steve for their anniversary a few months ago."

"And he's allowing you to use it?"

Bucky chuckles, running a hand through his hair as a pink tint dusts his cheeks. "'Allow' is a strong word."

You laugh as he opens the passenger door for you. You thank him, sliding onto the nice brown leather seat. "Does he even know you have it?"

He shrugs, shutting the door and leaning into the open window. "He'll find out soon, I'm sure."

Another laugh escapes you, a smile adorning his lips at the sound. He walks around the car, doing a hood slide to make you chortle again. While you two start driving, you try to convince him to give you a hint, but he's stubborn, denying you answers with that annoyingly charming smirk of his.

You recognize the direction you're going after a while and bounce in your seat as you arrive. "Coney Island?"

"I haven't been here since before the War and I've been meaning to come see how it's changed." He told you with a grin. "Who better to come check it out with than the pretty dame who serves me coffee at nine o'clock without complaining?"

Rolling your eyes to cover how much comments affect you, you smile teasingly in return. "Have you always been such a charmer, Barnes?"

He parks the car before shooting you a wink. "Only to angels, darlin', and you're the first one I've met so far."

You inwardly curse, hating how easily flustered you get around him. He gets out of the car and you're about to follow when he opens your door for you and offers his hand to you like the gentleman he is. You take it, enjoying the feeling of your smaller one against his rough calluses, and he helps you out of the car, shutting the door behind you.

"You ready to have the time of your life, dolIface?"

"As long as you get me a treat." You joke, linking your arm with the one he offers.

"Like I wasn't going to?" He scoffs back. "Who do you think l am, sugar? Now c'mon. Fun's awaitin'."

You laugh, letting him drag you around, loving the child-like wonder in his pretty eyes. Whether or not you enjoy roller coasters, you have a blast: playing carnival games, eating food you both know is terrible for you, but tastes oh so good, and people watching the interesting crowds, all while teasing and playing around with each other. There's nothing better you can think of to do with your free day than goof off with Bucky, no stress or worries plaguing your mind like usual. He even wins you multiple adorable plushies! Being a super soldier wasn't just good for saving the world, evidently.

It was while you're eating lunch that you ask Bucky why he's wearing a glove. "I've already seen your arm. I don't mind."

He hesitates, opening his mouth before licking his lips nervously. "It's not...I know you don't. I just don't...I dunno. I don't wanna freak anyone out."

You frown and put down your food, leaning forwards on your elbows. "First off, I think you're an amazing person. Just throwing that out there. Second, I don't think anyone will mind. You're a hero. An Avenger. Basically a celebrity with a badass arm. And, finally, if anyone does say anything, I'll tell them off. Easy peasy."

He snorts at that, before looking at his gloved hand warily. You reach across the table to give both his hands a squeeze. He meets your eyes and you grin reassuringly back. "If you're not comfortable, that's okay. Just know that other people should never be the reason to hide yourself. Trust me."

"I do." He says genuinely. You give him a questioning look, playing with the tips of his gloved fingers. At his nod, you slowly start taking his glove off, giving him time to say no. He doesn't, letting you tug it all the way off. He blushes when you lift the smooth metal to your lips.

"So, what's next? Wanna win me one of those monkeys with the velcro hands?" He chuckles at your question, telling you he'd win you all of them if you asked. You giggle, tightening your hold on his hand and, after finishing the last bite of food, pulling him to the booth with the monkey prizes.

When it starts getting dark, Bucky convinces you to go on the Ferris Wheel with him, promising to hold your hand the whole time if you're scared of heights (even though you haven't let go of his hand or arm since lunch). It's one of the most stunning scenes you've ever seen. The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon, a few stars dotting the darkened sky, a rare sight living in New York City. The aforementioned city's lights were turning on, causing the skyline to glow brightly. It's hard to think of anything bad about NYC when she looks like that.

"Wow. " You breath, enchanted by the city you've grown to love as home. "There's something almost...magical about it, don't you think?" You turn to Bucky, still captivated by the view, expecting him to be the same. After all, New York has been his home for over a century and so much has changed. Instead, you find him intently watching you, a small, adoring smile etched on his features. You smile shyly, unable to keep his gaze while he's looking at you like that - like you're the most enthralling thing he's seen, bewitching his heart and soul, even with the magnificent picture before you.

"Yeah...there is." He agrees, grabbing your chin between his left thumb and pointer finger gently, making your eyes meet. His right arm is around your shoulders, pulling you into his warm chest, heating you up from the chill the night is bringing.

Your heart drums hard against your ribs when he glances at your lips and you're sure he could hear it, even without his enhanced hearing. Your eyes lock onto his lips as his tongue darts out to wet them. You're suddenly so much closer, his right hand holding the back of your neck delicately while his left cups the side of your jaw. Your hands are gripping his jacket, noses brushing.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice comes out low and raspy.

"If you didn't, I'd probably smack you."

You feel his deep chuckle reverberate through his chest, which you just notice is pressed solidly against yours. Before you can process anything, his lips are slanted over yours. They're softer than you originally thought and they move expertly against yours. It surprises you, before you remember he's technically over a century old, so of course he has experience.

The kiss is over before you want it to be, but the need for oxygen gets too much and your lungs start to sting, so you pull back reluctantly, your hands now in his hair while he's holding your face tenderly.

"Speaking of magic."

You laugh, rolling your eyes as the Ferris Wheel starts turning again. "Who knew Bucky Barnes is such a sap?"

He smirks, leaning forwards to peck your Iips a couple times. "I prefer the term 'romantic'."

Once you get off, you hold onto his elbow, leaning against his shoulder. "Thank you for bringing me, Buck. I really enjoyed today."

"Well that's good considering we're not done."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "Wait, what?"

Bucky scoffs in amusement. "You didn't think that was all, didya, doll? The day's not over; the night's still young!" His right arm slings around your shoulders, pulling you close and kissing your head.

"Okay. What's next?" You ask curiously. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk on those delicious lips. "Another surprise?"

"Hope you're hungry, sweetheart."

"Dinner?"

Giving you a charming grin, he leads you back to the car. "Guess you'll have to wait 'n see, darlin’."

* * * * * * * *

"Buck.” You groan, toeing the ground nervously. The blindfold covering your eyes was keeping you from seeing anything and, to your embarrassment, you've already tripped more times than you care to admit. “Where are we? l feel like we've been walking forever. Can I take this stupid thing off yet?”

Bucky chuckles softly in your ear, holding you steady as you walk on the uneven surface beneath your feet. “We’re almost there, doll. I promise."

Letting out a huff, you let him lead you further along. Finally, after what feels like hours, though you know you're being dramatic and haven't been walking that long, he stops. "Stay right here," he mumbles, his hands that were on your shoulders leaving, along with his warmth behind you, with a kiss to your cheek.

"Haha. You're so funny."

A couple snickers leave his lips and you can just imagine the smile no doubt gracing his features - the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes adorably. You feel wind nip at your bare skin and shiver slightly, wondering where the hell you are.

"Okay. C'mere." His hands are on you again, the contrast of the two adding to the goosebumps the breeze was giving you. "Right here." You can practically feel his excitement and nerves as he positions you. "Alright. Ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be, I suppose."

His nimble fingers are suddenly at the edge of cloth covering your eyes, which he makes quick work of, tugging it off gently. "You can open your eyes, sugar." He chuckles, seeing your eyes tightly clenched shut. You do as he says and blink them open. The sight that meets you takes your breath away.

He brought you to a beach, which you had kind of already guessed due to the sad slipping through your shoes. In front of you, a blanket is spread out, being held at the corners by lanterns, which are connected by a string of fairy lights outlining the blanket. Pillows are scattered on the blanket, a picnic basket to the side while a single red rose is in a small vase in the center with rose petals surrounding the setup. He really is a romantic.

"Bucky. It's beautiful. When did you set this up?"

He rubs the back of his neck, turning red. You smile, enjoying the fact that you can make him just as flustered as he makes you. “Actually, the team helped me out a bit. It was originally just Natasha and Steve. But, uh, then Tony and Wanda found out and then...Sam."

You giggle, knowing his and Sam's brotherly relationship from previous conversation. "I bet he teased the shit out of you when he found out."

"Please," Bucky scoffs. "I'll be the butt of his jokes for at least a month. At least, this part of me will."

"Well, I love this side of you if that's worth anything."

He grins dashingly at you. "Then let the birdbrain tease, because that’s worth everything. Here." Taking your hand, he leads you over to the blanket and sits you down. "All those questions at the coffee shop and I never asked your favorite drink so I brought red, white, beer, Coke, Pepsi, root beer, and," he pulls out the last bottle he brought with a boyish smile. "Apple juice. There's water in 'ere too. And, o' course, the meal and the dessert, which I did ask about because I'm not a complete idiot."

Laughing, you can't help but pull him in for a kiss. "You're so cute."

He clears his throat, his face heating up while he rubs the back of his neck, tying his hair back in a knot. He hands out compliments like candy on Halloween but he can't take them to save his life. How adorable can one man be?

You two eat and talk about everything from hilarious childhood stories to what keeps you up at night. You love listening to his fascinating tales of playing through the 20s, scraping through the 30s, and fighting through the 40s. You especially love the way his face lights up when talking about his family, the Howling Commandos, and America's Golden Boy, both twink and tank stories.

After a couple hours, you find yourself wrapped in his warm jacket - which smelled amazing - leaning against him as he tells you about his new family. You sip on your preferred drink, your eyes fluttering shut, content to simply listen to his soothing voice talking about Clint and Scott's latest prank on Pietro.

"You tired, doll?" You hear him whisper tenderly, his arms around your waist while his thumbs run small circles on your sides.

You hum and look back at him over your shoulder. "Just feeling the moment." He smiles adoringly at you, kissing your temple.

"It's getting late anyways. We should get you home. Don't want your roommate worrying."

You scoff, but agree. You help him clean up and carry things to the car, despite his protests. You nearly fall asleep on the ride back, his big, warm hand resting comfortably on your thigh the whole way. He squeezes gently when you pull up to your building, murmuring lightly to wake you up.

Ever the gentleman, he walks you inside and helps you bring the armful of prizes he got you to your door. Once there, you unlock the door and lean against the frame, facing him.

"Thank you, James. As far as first dates go, this is by far the best one I've had."

He shoots you a smug grin. "Glad to hear that, beautiful. Does that mean if I asked for a second date you'd say yes?"

You give him a smirk back. "I'd say your chances are very good."

"And if asked for a goodnight kiss from the most gorgeous girl I've ever been blessed to be in the presence of?"

You giggle, ducking your head shyly. His hands grip your jaw, pulling your gaze back to him. He nudges your nose with his, whispering against your lips, "is that a yes?" AII you can think to do is nod. He smirks at your reaction, before he's pulling your lips against his. It's more passionate, less hesitant and experimental, than the few previous kisses you shared. He's angling your face to deepen the kiss, his hands tangle in your hair and his tongue prods your lips open, swallowing the little whimper you let out.

When you pull back, you're breathless, panting against his open month. "You workin' tomorrow, darlin'?" He rasps out.

"No." You try to collect yourself enough to answer, although it's hard with all your nerves on fire, his scent fogging up your brain. You manage to move your heavy tongue enough to say, "I have the weekend off."

A broad grin lights up his pretty face. "Great. I'll be over at nine. Have a nice night, sweetheart."

You nod, an airy "goodnight" leaving your lips. You watch him walk off, a pep in his step and his lips turned up. You lean back against your door, hugging all your new plushies to your chest, still wrapped up in his jacket, and let out a sigh.

You'll have to go visit Cody and thank him. After all, that dreadful night shift gave you the best day of your Iife.