#insecure bucky barnes

[moonvis]

Uncle Bucky

Ship: Bucky Barnes x f! avenger! reader

ft. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton. 

Summary: With Bucky’s help you babysit you niece and nephew. When you get called in on a last minute mission, you have to leave him alone with the kids. 

Warnings: A whole lot of fluff, some insecure!Bucky abt his arm, soft!Bucky, and there’s a whole lotta love in the air ;)

Words: 3.5k

MASTERLIST

"You cannot' run forever!"

Bucky's head snapped up at the sound of your voice yelling from the hallways. He put his spoon in his cereal bowl and looked towards the kitchen entrance.

He expected to see you rushing in, but what he saw instead was two small figures, running in while giggling uncontrollably.

"I'm gonna take you both down!" You threatened playfully while chasing your six-year-old niece and nephew into the room.

You didn't notice a curious Bucky at first, too focused on the little ones. When you finally reached them, you hurled yourself forward and cradled them in a hug on the floor.

The sight put a smile on Bucky's face. Seeing you happy and laughing made his heart feel warm. In the moment, he didn't realise you were staring back at him with a questionable look on your face.

"You alright there Buck?" You asked a little shyly. It didn't go unnoticed by you the way he was admiring you from the breakfast table.

"Of course." A small blush formed in his cheeks. Shrugging it off, he stood up and walked over to the three of you.

After you helped your niece and nephew to stand, Bucky reached out a hand for you. With an appreciative smile, you took it and let him help you off the floor.

"Thanks Buck," You nodded at the man while putting both your hands behind each six-year-old, "Now let me introduce you to the twins."

Bucky got down to their height and rested his flesh hand on his knee, "Hey there, I'm Bucky. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"I'm Tia!" The little girl greeted with a big grin on her face, rocking back and forth on her tippy toes. The boy jumped next to his sister, saying loudly, "And I'm Joel! We're twins!"

"And none of them are shy, I'll tell you that." You got down to their height as well, about to give them side hugs, but they had already launched themselves at Bucky.

The brunette quickly brought his vibranium arm behind his back, while cradling the twins with his flesh one. At first you laughed at the sight along with the three of them, but when you saw the overwhelmed look in Bucky's eyes, you reacted quickly.

"Take it easy now." You said while lifting both kids off the super solider. You shot him an apologetic smile which he returned with a reassuring one.

After letting the twins go, you spoke to them with an excited voice, "Hey why don't we go get the ice cream we bought? We need to put it in the freezer."

Both kids nodded and started running to the kitchen exit. You let out a sigh and looked at Bucky, "Yeah so that's my niece and nephew I told you about. They're staying the weekend, and with their level of energy it should be enough to drain me like a crimefighting mission."

Bucky laughed at your joke when a thought entered his mind, "I know you got this on your own, but you don't have to. I can help babysit them."

Your heart felt warm at his offer, knowing he wasn't the most comfortable around kids because of his arm, "I can't ask that of you-"

"You don't. I'm offering, and you should know I always love helping you out."

"I know, Buck. Ditto. Thank you."

"Auntie Y/n!" Tia yelled at you from the entrance, where she and her brother were waiting for you impatiently.

"Sorry sweets, I'm coming." You assured her from across the room, before you lowered you voice for Bucky, "We're ordering takeout later, you wanna join us?"

Bucky was more than happy you agreed to let him tag along, "Sure."

"I guess we'll be co parenting then." You winked at the man, getting a flustered look in return. You giggled at the sight before kissing his cheek, and hurrying over to the twins.

Saying you didn't know what you were doing to Bucky, would be a lie.

-

With soda cans and paper bags in your hands, you walked over to the benches where Bucky and the twins were waiting.

The skies were blue, and sun was warming your skin, making the perfect opportunity for a small picnic outside the compound. A burger and nuggets picnic to be exact.

"Here's your junk." You said and placed Tia and Joel's food in front of them, "Eat n' wreck."

"Yummy!" The twins cheered in union.

You sat down opposite of Bucky and handed him his food, gaining a 'thank you' in return. Before you got the chance to open your own bag of food, Joel stretched out his hand with a toy in your face.

"Look who I got!" The boy cheered while showing it to Bucky next. Taking a closer look at the toy, you noticed the red, white, and blue stripes. It was a Captain America action figure.

"Hey, that's my best friend." Bucky gave Joel a nod and smirk which made the boy's mouth gape. "You're best friends with Captain America! Wow!"

"That's great Joel! Did you get a toy Tia?" You turned to the girl who nodded and brought the action figure forward.

While studying the figure you didn't notice Bucky turning in his seat to hide away his vibranium arm. Tia was holding a Winter Solider figure, which you probably hated more than Bucky.

You knew Bucky's worries and insecurities when it came that person. It wasn't Bucky, it was a brainwashed machine. The fact that they still made toys and merchandise of him instead of Bucky, and his new arm, angered you.

 Tia looked at Bucky for a moment and raised her eyebrows, "He looks like you! You both have metal arms!" So, the kid had acknowledged his arm. The girl waited excitedly for Bucky's response, but none came out.

 This time you noticed how Bucky straightened his posture. You shared a quick glance with him before commenting, "I don't think they look alike at all. Bucky's arm is way cooler!"

Hesitantly Bucky brought his hand forward to let the girl study it. She looked from the vibranium arm and back to her toy, before dropping it into her paper bag again, "You're right! Way cooler!"

"So much cooler!" Joel joined in, making a smile appear on Bucky's lips.

The super solider wasn't too fond with the attention his arm got, but grateful for the way you had turned things around.

-

As the sun went down, the four of you found yourself inside your room. You were fifty minutes into watching a movie on your tv, laying comfortably in your bed.

You were resting your head on Bucky's shoulder, his vibranium arm holding around you. Tia was sitting on Bucky lap, leaning back against his chest, while Joel was laying stomach-flat by Bucky's feet.

Spending time with you and the twins like this got Bucky's imagination flying around. This day had been a special one. You weren't even a couple, but it had felt like he was sharing a family with you, something he dearly wished for some day.

In the moment of daydreaming, he kissed the top of your head and rested his on top of yours.

The atmosphere in the room was relaxing, but unfortunately, your phone going off interrupted. You let out a yawn and rolled out of Bucky's embrace grab your phone.

It was a message from Steve: "Y/n, Nat and Clint. I'm sorry to call you in on such short notice, but you are needed for an emergency stealth mission. The jet will be ready for you in 15 minutes."

 You let out an uneasy breath, your thoughts immediately going to the twins. When Bucky saw the worry in your eyes, he brought his hand forward and caressed your cheek, "Everything okay doll?"

"I got called in for a mission, right now."

Bucky let out a breath and tilted his head, "Perfect timing."

 Your nephew and niece were looking at you now, questionable looks in their eyes. You told them you had to leave for a mission, but first, you would call Steve and ask if someone could step in for you.

After five minutes, you stood outside your room, just done with your phone call with Steve. The Captain had apologised over and over again for sending you on the mission, but your skills were very much needed, which you understood.

Bucky came out from your room with the twins trailing behind. He looked at you expectantly, but when you sook your head, he knew you had to go.  

He let out a sigh before assuring you, "I'll watch Tia and Joel till you're back. Don't worry."

You were about to thank him, but the twins rushing forward caught your attention. Tia looked up at you and asked with a hint of understanding, "You really have to go?" You nodded at the girl apologetically.

You got down to their height, holding your hands on each kid. The uneasy look in their eyes broke your heart. You really didn't want to leave them.

"Tia, Joel." You looked both kids in the eyes, making sure you had their attention, before asking, "Do you trust me?"

Tia fiddled with her fingers for a moment, but was the first to nod. Joel looked at his sister, then at you, and thankfully nodded with small movements.

You gave them gentle smiles while continuing, "Tia you're a smart young lady, and Joel you're a brave young man. And if you trust me," You looked at Bucky for a short moment, "I ask of you to trust me when I say you'll be safe with Bucky while I'm gone."

In the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky's tensing. Getting your niece and nephew's trust meant a lot to him. He already knew you accepted him, but it was important for him to be accepted by the important people in your life as well.

Your voice sounded a bit more serious as you continued, "I trust Bucky with my life. If there is anyone in this entire world I would leave you alone with, it would be Bucky. Will you trust Bucky too?"

 Your confession got Bucky blushing. By the way you were speaking, he knew you were completely honest with the kids.

The brunette held in a breath as he waited for the twins' answer. When he saw them nodding and you hugging them with a proud smile on your lips, his entire body felt warm.

Your niece and nephew accepted him.

While hugging the six-year-olds, you smiled up at Bucky. He mouthed a silent 'thank you'.

"Alright sweeties, it's time for me to go." You gave them one last squeezing hug before standing up, "Why don't you go back to the movie and wait Bucky there?"

Tia nodded with a smile, and so did Joel. While Tia rushed back to the bed, Joel stopped by Bucky's feet, "Be quick." The boy folded his arms, with a stern look on his face.

Bucky chuckled and ruffled Joel's hair, "I will, I promise."

Their interaction melted you heart, assuring you the kids would be comfortable around Bucky without you there.

Pleased with Bucky's promise, Joel rushed off to join his sister. It gave you some privacy with the super solider before you had to leave.

Bucky's eyes were on you the second you were alone. They carried a look of concern. Instead of speaking, you went in for a hug. He cradled you against his chest, holding you tightly, one hand resting behind your head.

"Be careful out there okay? It's a pretty spontaneous mission." Bucky whispered into your hair.

With your eyes closed, you mumbled a response, "I will."

After a moment of comfortable silence, you didn't fully retract from Bucky's embrace, but enough to look up at his blue eyes.

"I should go, but thank you again Buck," You smiled softly, "I'm forever grateful for all the help you give me. I owe you."

"You owe me nothing. I know you'd do the same for me." Bucky stroke his thumb over your cheek and kissed your forehead.

"I'm only a phone call away if you need me, but I know you'll be fine," You said before fully loosening yourself from Bucky, "I'll probably be back by Sunday."

"Promise you'll come back to me- us in one piece, yeah?" Bucky asked while talking hold of your hand. You nodded and placed a kiss on his cheek, "Promise."

With that you left the super solider alone. He wasn't really alone for long though, your niece and nephew had grown impatient and were already dragging him back into your room.

-

The next day the twins and Bucky got along very well without you. Bucky made them breakfast, they got a tour of the compound, played hide and seek - and who knew, despite Bucky's assassin skills, finding the kids was hard. He had been looking for about thirty minutes now and his heartbeat was quickening.

He searched in your room, the kitchen, the lounge room, and the bathrooms, but he still couldn't find them. When he reached Steve's office, he heard the joyful sound of children’s laughter.

With a hint of hope, he rushed inside and let out a breath of relief when he saw Steve chasing the twins.

"Tia, Joel!" Bucky yelled and got their reaction immediately, "You can't run off like this! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

He got down to their height and looked at them seriously, gaining apologetic looks in return, "We're sorry." His eyes softened, and as he reached out his arms, they rushed forward and hugged him.

Steve was standing a few meters away, his hands on his hips. Seeing Bucky this comfortable around your nephew and niece brought joy to his heart. He knew it meant a lot to Bucky for them to be this comfortable in return.

"I'm glad you're okay." Bucky looked from Tia to Joel, then he looked up at his friend with a smile, "Thank you for watching them here."

Steve nodded, "Of course."

When Bucky stood up, Joel grabbed his vibranium hand. The boy didn't notice, but Bucky were taken back. He let out a deep breath.

Steve watched with a proud smile om his face, almost blocking out Joel's question, "Is Bucky your best friend?"

"Huh? Yeah, the best." Steve winked at the kid, who's eyes grew wide. Tia and Joel looked at each other before jumping with excitement, "That means you are Captain America!"

Steve nodded and laughed, Bucky joining in. Tia pointed at the famous shield by Steve's desk, "We saw your shield when we came in here! We knew it!"

Steve looked from the girl and up at Bucky, "They're smart kids." The brunette couldn't agree more, "Brave, smart, understanding. You wouldn't even know."

Tia and Joel shared prideful looks at the compliments, growing to like Bucky more and more.

-

As the evening came by, Bucky and the twins were relaxing on the sofa, eating the ice cream you had bought for them.

"It's sad Auntie Y/n can't be here and have ice cream with us huh?" Bucky asked after swallowing a spoon of vanilla ice cream. Even though it had only been day, he really wished you were with them.

"I miss her." Tia pouted while lightly stabbing her ice cream with her spoon, her brother mimicking her actions, but with his fingers.

Seeing the kids like this gave him and idea, "What do you say we call her? I can't promise she'll pick up, but we can try."

"Yeah!" Joel said eagerly, his sister nodding along.

Bucky brought out his phone, dialled your number and put it on speaker. All three leaned towards the phone, eagerly waiting as the phone beeped loudly.

"Come on, come on..." Tia crossed her fingers, and when the beeping stopped she thought your answered. Unfortunately, the call went to voicemail.

"I'm sorry..." Bucky apologised, afraid he had made them disappointed, starting to regret having called you. However, to his surprise, the smile om the twins’ faces told him differently.

"It's okay, we have you!" Tia said and jumped into Bucky's lap, which Joel did as well. Those words did it for Bucky, but instead of getting emotional, he started tickling the kids till they were screaming laughing.

As the night went by, it was time for the young ones to sleep. In their daze between awake and asleep, Bucky kissed their heads and turned off the lights, "Sleep well you two."

When he was bout to leave, small fingers grabbed his arms. He turned around to see Tia sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes. "We had a lot of fun today." She reached out her arms, signalising for Bucky she wanted a proper hug.

With a chuckle, he leaned down and placed another gentle kiss on top of her head, whispering, "I'm glad. Now, get some sleep princess."

With a yawn she leaned down against her pillow, mumbling, "G' night Uncle Bucky."

Bucky froze at her words, a blush creeping over his face. Had he heard her correctly? Oh, if the girl only knew how badly he wanted to be their legal uncle. If she only knew what her words just did to his heart.

That night Bucky went to bed with the most love filled overwhelming feeling he had experienced in a while.

-

Sunday finally arrived and you were looking out the jet, the Avengers compound coming into sight.

You had seen a missed call from Bucky on your phone, but never had time to call him back. You hoped it wasn't anything important, but you weren't worried either, you knew you could trust Bucky with the twins.

"So, Barnes' been alone with the kids all weekend?" Clint asked while picking up his bow and arrow.

"Yeah, but I know he's handled them well." You assured him.

"Oh yeah I don't doubt that. I'm more worried about his wellbeing to he honest." Clint stated and you raised a brow at him, "I have three kids, and I've never been as exhausted as I was after watching the twins for two hours."

"I have to agree. I love you're nephew and niece, but they're wild." Natasha turned in the steering seat to face you.

You shook your head with a smile, "They've got a lot of energy at times, but they're angels."

"Sure they are, but-"

You interrupted Clint, folding your arms and leaning back against the wall, "Spare me Barton, just admit the Y/l/n twins are too much for you to handle."

Clint raised a brow at you as he spoke, "If that's what you'd like to hear, we can pretend."

You smirked at the cockiness in his voice, "Sure."

Within a few minutes the jet finally landed at the compound. Grabbing your gear, you rushed outside, expecting to see Bucky waiting for you as usual. When neither him nor the twins were present, you looked around like a question mark.

Clint noticed and commented, "I told you so! It's the kids! Bucky's probably hiding somewhere."

You rolled your eyes and headed for the compound entrance, "Very funny arrow boy."

"Don't call me that!" Clint yelled, but you ignored him as you disappeared inside.

Once inside you went to your room to see if Bucky and the twins were there, but it was empty. Since you didn't have any visible blood on your suit, you went to go find them without changing.

As you neared the kitchen, children’s laughter filled your ears like music. A wonderful smell and a pleasant sight met you as you entered the room.

Fresh pancakes were placed on the table, plates and glasses for four. You didn’t have to ask to know they had set the table for you as well.

Tia and Joel were dangling from Bucky's vibranium arm, holding on for dear life. He was lifting it up and down, lightly shaking it, trying to make it hard for the kids.

Usually, you would admire the sight of Bucky like this, he was practically flexing his muscles. Though none of that crossed your mind. What made you feel warm inside, and almost weak to your knees, were the happiness on Bucky's face.

The brunette was laughing loudly, corners of his mouth stretched to his ears, eyes shining with joy. He looked comfortable, relaxed, especially judging by the way he let the twins play with his arm.

Seeing Bucky this comfortable with your niece and nephew made your mind start dreaming. To see him like this with your own kids one day would be amazing, but then he'd have to be yours first.

"Auntie Y/n!" Joel yelled when he saw you by the entrance. He let go of Bucky's arm and rushed over to you, "You made it back for pancakes!"

"Really? I'm so lucky!" You brought the boy into a hug, letting Tia join in when she rushed over as well, "Have you had fun with Bucky?"

When both kids nodded in response, you stood up and looked at Bucky, "Thank you Buck. I knew you'd be fine."

Bucky didn't respond right away. You watched as his eyes scanned your face and body for any sign of injury. When he didn't see any, he brought you into a tight hug.

You chuckled and hugged him back, "Promised I'd be back in one piece."

"We've missed you," Bucky said with a gentle voice and gestured for the kids who agreed.

"I missed you too! Now please let me know all the fun things you did!" You clasped your hands together and looked at the kids curiously.

"We'll tell you later!" Joel grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the kitchen table, "First we have to eat the pancakes Uncle Bucky made for us!"

Your eyes widened at the title, the title you wished were real more than you would admit out loud. You quickly looked back at Bucky, who's hand was dragged by your niece.

Even though his cheeks were reddening, you could see a hint of pride in his eyes. He winked at you as he spoke, "Auntie Y/n and Uncle Bucky, huh? Doesn't sound so wrong if you ask me."

You chuckled a little hesitantly, your heart beating harshly against your chest, a tingle present in your stomach, "I guess not."

THE END

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[buckybarnesdollface]

Mountainside: Chapter 2

Summary: Will sharing a bed change things?

Warnings: Female reader, SMUT, lots of smut, fluff, mentions of cancer and infertility 

          I awoke the next morning feeling as if I was wrapped in a warm cocoon. Bucky’s body was curled almost protectively around me, arm still secure around my waist. I could feel his warm, slow breaths on the back of my neck, and his Henley had ridden up my body so that his large, warm hand was pressed directly to the exposed flesh of my belly. My cheeks flushed and I tried to move, but his grasp tightened and pulled me even closer to him. He let out a soft groan, that had my entire body heated.

           “Where are you going?” he mumbled, voice hoarse and low with sleep, and I bit my lip.

           “I was gonna get up.”

           “Listen.”

           I wrinkled my nose. “What?”

           “Listen,” he repeated, and I did. Outside the cabin the wind was howling, whipping through the trees and rattling the windowpanes. Once he was satisfied I’d heard what he wanted me to hear, he continued. “The storm started three hours ago; the snow’s likely to be heavy by now, and the power went out over an hour ago. Why rush to get out of bed? It’s not like there’s anything for us to do but sit and wait for the snow to stop so the team can come get us.”

           “The power went out?” Sure enough, a glance at the black screen of the digital clock on the nightstand told me as much. I frowned, rolling onto my back. Bucky made no move to lift his arm, his hand still pleasantly warm on my stomach. When I turned my head to the side to look at him, he was also frowning, but his eyes were soft.

           “Did you sleep well?” he asked, and I nodded.

           “Very well,” I admitted, and a small smile touched his lips.

           “Me too.”

           My heart fluttered in spite of myself, and I tilted my head back to stare at the ceiling, focusing on keeping my breaths calm and even. Things were silent for a moment, and then Bucky spoke again.

           “Last night, on the phone with Steve…” he started. “Are you really that upset about being stuck here? Because at dinner you seemed to agree that it was kind of nice.”

           I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling my face redden. I hesitated before answering. “I’m not upset,” I finally said. “It is kind of nice being here. It’s just…”

           “Just what?” Bucky prodded. I could feel his blue eyes watching me intensely, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I was sure my face was as red as a tomato at this point. I took a deep breath, figuring it was better to be honest than try and come up with a story.

           “When you said Natasha knows about this place – Have you…have you been here together?”

           I felt stupid and pathetic as soon as the words came out of my mouth, but I had to know. It had been nagging me since yesterday evening. I peeked over at Bucky; his brow furrowed.

           “No. This place used to belong to her sister, Yelena,” he explained. “I was on mission here in Austria last year and needed a place to lay low. Natasha suggested I stay at the cabin.” Bucky looked over to me, one dark eyebrow cocked. “Why do you ask?”

           “No reason,” I mumbled. His words had eased the storm in me, and now I just wanted to drop it. Bucky, however, had other plans.

           “Seriously, (Y/N), why do you ask?” he repeated, and then a slow grin spread over his face. “You were jealous!”

           My face went white. “I was not!” I cried, my answer both too quick and too defensive to pass as the truth. Bucky’s grin was wicked as he sat up to lean on his elbow, the hand he still had on me pinching my side playfully. I squeaked and rolled away from him, and I would have rolled right off the bed had Bucky not caught me and pulled me back to him so that we were face-to-face. He was still grinning but it was warmer, eyes soft.

           “You have nothing to be jealous of,” he chuckled. “Nothing has ever happened between Natasha and I, and nothing ever will.”

           “I’m not jealous,” I grumbled, and Bucky smirked.

           “Of course you’re not, doll,” he replied, and then he rolled away from me to stretch his arms above his head with a tired groan. “Well, since we’re awake, how about some coffee?”

           “The power’s out,” I reminded him, and he snorted.

           “You never heat a kettle over a fire, doll?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were such a princess.”

           With a mischievous grin, he rolled off the bed out of my reach before I could hit him. I threw a pillow at him, but he caught it one-handed and laughed.

           “Easy, doll,” he chuckled. “You’re gonna pull your stitches if you get too wound up.”

           Now that I was awake and sitting up, the aches and pains in my body were starting to resurface. My muscles were stiff and my arm was stinging, and I scrunched my nose. Seeing the change in my demeanour, Bucky slid open the drawer of the nightstand and dropped a bottle of Advil into my hand.

           “Here, this’ll help,” he said. “I’ll go get the coffee started.”

           I shook a couple of pills from the bottle and tipped my head back to swallow them. I leaned back against the headboard with a sigh, and then forced myself out of bed to follow Bucky to the kitchen.

           Bucky was stoking the fire when I walked in. I went right to the window to assess how bad the storm was. The snow had already drifted against the side of the cabin, almost reaching the bottom of the window. The wind was relentless, swaying trees and whipping snow in every direction so it was hard to see anything but white. I pulled away from the window, just as Bucky set a couple of mugs on the counter and spooned some instant coffee into each of them.

           “Steve wasn’t kidding about it being a bad storm,” I mused, and Bucky shook his head.

           “This is just the beginning, too. It’s going to get much worse.”

           The kettle started boiling, and Bucky grabbed it and brought it back to the counter, filling the mugs with the steaming water. He stirred two spoonfuls of sugar into mine, just the way I liked it, and then slid it across the counter to me.

           “Thanks,” I murmured, letting the heated ceramic warm my hands. We sipped our coffee in silence for a few moments, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the howling wind outside. It really was peaceful here, and I admitted as much.

           “Yeah, it’s the kind of place you go when you want to get away,” he murmured, eyes fixed on the window over my shoulder. He met my gaze, a sad smile on his face. “Sometimes it’s too much, y’know? I mean, I know I’ve been living in the twenty-first century long enough now that I should be used to it, but I grew up in the thirties – We didn’t have cell phones, or computers, or the internet, or even a fraction of today’s technology. We didn’t feel the need to constantly know what’s happening in everyone’s lives, and we weren’t able to be reached by the single press of a button. Things were simpler…quieter. Being here reminds me of that.”

           A smile tugged at my lips, and Bucky’s brow furrowed.

           “What?” he asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

           “I like it when you talk about yourself,” I told him. “Especially when you talk about your life before the war.”

           Bucky snorted, but his cheeks were tinted pink. “Most people hate listening to old men ramble,” he pointed out, and I shook my head with a chuckle.

           “You aren’t a typical old man,” I said. “And besides, it’s very rare to get any stories out of you. So when you do open up, it’s nice. It’s like getting to see a glimpse into the elusive mind of Bucky Barnes.”

           Suddenly Bucky frowned, eyes casting down to stare at the mug in his hands. “You wouldn’t think it was so nice if you got more than a glimpse,” he mumbled. “I don’t open up because no one wants to see what’s underneath. The surface is safe, but anything deeper and you’re approaching dangerous territory.”

           I pursed my lips; he looked so sullen. I reached across the counter to slip my hand over top of his, and he looked startled but he didn’t pull away. “The right person won’t be scared,” I murmured, and he shook his head.

           “They should be. Most people are.”

           “But not everyone.” I bit my lip, and Bucky swallowed hard as he held my eyes. The air was suddenly heavy, but the sound of a giant crack outside had us jumping. Bucky had rounded the island in a second, placing himself between the door and me. “What was that?” I asked warily.

           “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I should go outside and check it out, though.”

           My eyes widened. “Are you insane? It’s snowmageddon out there!” I cried. “Buck, you can’t go out there.”

           “If there’s something out there, I have to take care of it,” he said, having made up his mind. He was already pulling on his boots. “Stay here. Lock the door behind me, and keep your gun close just in case. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He zipped up his jacket and grabbed his pistol, and I frowned.

           “Buck…? Be careful,” I said softly, and an unexpected grin flashed across his face.

           “I’m always careful, doll,” he said, and then he pulled open the door. The wind blew flurries into the cabin, and Bucky turned to wink at me before he disappeared out into the blizzard.

           I did as he said, locking the door behind him before grabbing my pistol from the shelf by the door. I tapped the grip with my fingertips restlessly, pacing the kitchen, my coffee forgotten. I couldn’t imagine anyone being out in this blizzard, but what if they were? What if HYDRA had found us, and Bucky was out in that storm trying to fight them off? Surely I would have heard gunfire by now if that were the case, though…

           Minutes passed that felt like hours, and then there was someone pounding on the wooden door. I held my pistol, ready to aim just in case, and cautiously walked over to the door.

           “(Y/N), it’s me!” Bucky shouted, pounding again. I could barely hear him over the roaring of the wind, but I quickly unlocked the door and wrenched it open, to reveal a very cold-looking Bucky. I stepped aside so he could come in, and then I was dusting the snow off his shoulders.

           “So what was the noise?” I asked, and he frowned.

           “The wind snapped a bough off one of the pine trees,” he replied as he shrugged out of his jacket. I took it and hung it off a hook.

           “We aren’t going to have any trees coming down on the cabin, are we?” I asked. Bucky shook his head, snow falling to the floor.

           “No, we’re safe in here.” He toed off his boots. “It’s wild out there. I haven’t seen a storm like this since my time in Siberia.”

           His cheeks were ruddy from the cold, and ice crystals had accumulated on his eyelashes like tiny diamonds. His jacket had done little to protect him from the snow, as his shirt was as soaked as his pants.

           “You’re covered in snow,” I griped. “Go change into some dry clothes. I’ll make some fresh coffee to warm you up.”

           Bucky shot me a grateful look before heading to the bedroom. I heated the kettle back up over the fire and then poured two fresh cups of coffee. I handed Bucky his as he came back out to the kitchen.

           “Thanks, doll,” he murmured. “At this rate, the snow’s gonna be halfway up the cabin before nightfall.”

           “I’m just glad winters in New York aren’t like this,” I breathed. “God, can you imagine having to dig your way out every time it snows?”

           Bucky nodded in agreement. “I don’t mind a little snow here and there, but I’ve spent enough time in Austria and Russia during the winter to last me a hundred lifetimes.”

           I grinned. “Who’d have thought that the Winter Soldier would hate winter.” I teased, and he shrugged.

           “You spend enough time living in the snow and ice and cold, with very little sunshine, and you’d hate it too.”

           “That must be why you liked Wakanda so much.”

           Bucky took a sip of his coffee. “I liked Wakanda mostly for the same reason I like it here – Things were simpler,” he said. “The city may be the most technologically-advanced in the world, but it’s surrounded by miles of farmland and plains. T’Challa let me live just outside the city, in my own little hut, and I farmed the land. I may have grown up in New York City, but farming in Wakanda and having no cares in the world was an absolute blessing.”

           “It sounds perfect,” I admitted. “I’ve always wanted to see Wakanda; I’ve never been.”

           “I’ll tell you what; I’ll take you with me the next time I go,” Bucky told me. “How’s that sound?”

           “You’d do that?” I breathed, and Bucky nodded.

           “Sure. You’ll love it. And I know you and Shuri would get along great.”

           I grinned into my mug, cheeks pink. I couldn’t believe Bucky and I were making plans to travel together.

           As the day wore on, the blizzard only got worse. The snow was already partly covering the windows, and I was thankful that I wasn’t claustrophobic. A quick search of the cabin revealed there wasn’t much to do here; Bucky redressed my arm with a new bandage, and then we heated some canned soup over the fire for lunch. I had found an old copy of Bram Stoker’s Dracula and had laid back on the couch to read it despite having already read it twice before, just to give me something to do. Bucky had sat on the floor, leaning against the armchair, with a piece of firewood and one of his knives. He had been whittling at the piece of wood for half an hour now, and I looked up from my book with a scrunched nose.

           “What is it you’re making, anyway?” I asked. “Other than a mess of wood shavings, that is.”

           Bucky looked up from what he was doing to give me a disparaging look. “You’ll see when it’s finished,” he replied, and I rolled my eyes dramatically.

           “Fine,” I sighed, dragging out the word. “Where did you learn to do that, anyway?”

           “My grandfather,” he replied. “He taught me when I was a kid. He used to make beautiful carvings, some as tall as me.” He grinned ruefully. “My knife skills have improved over the years – I was certainly no professional when I was younger.”

           Seeing Bucky reminisce had quickly become one of my favourite things. I smiled. “Well I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve made.”

           It was another hour before Bucky finally set down his knife on the coffee table. I looked up from my book, curiosity winning over as I set the book on the table, and sat up straight. Almost hesitantly, Bucky set the little wooden figure in my hand. It was a little wolf, head raised in a howl. The details were intricate, right down to the fur patterns and the tiny teeth. My eyes widened in awe, and I shook my head as I met Bucky’s gaze.

           “Bucky…” I breathed. “This is…this is beautiful. You’re so talented! How did I not know you were so talented?”

           “It’s not something I go around advertising,” he mumbled, cheeks pink and expression bashful.

           “Jesus, you and Steve never cease to amaze,” I said. “Steve with his drawing, and you with this. Wow. Shit. And here I thought Steve was the artistic one.”

           “Steve is the artistic one,” Bucky told me. “He’s the one who took art classes in school. I focused more on baseball and boxing. This was just more of a hobby that I kept to myself.”

           “Well you’re clearly more than meets the eye, Bucky Barnes,” I murmured, turning the wolf over in my hands in wonder. “This is amazing.”

           “Keep it,” he said, and my eyes rounded.

           “What?”

           “Keep it,” he repeated with a shrug. “I want you to have it.”          

           “Thank you,” I breathed sincerely as I ran my fingertips over the surface. I looked up at Bucky with one eyebrow arched. “Just out of curiosity, why a wolf?”

           Bucky’s lips quirked up, and his eyes glittered. “Back in Wakanda, the kids used to call me ‘Ingcuka Emhlophe’,” he explained, a fond expression on his face. “It means ‘White Wolf.’ I liked it a lot better than being referred to as ‘The Soldier’ or ‘The White Boy,’ so I never stopped the Wakandans from calling me White Wolf.”

           “White Wolf?” I chuckled. “Because you were the only white guy in Wakanda?”

           “Something like that,” he admitted with a small smile.

           I grinned. “I like it. It suits you.” I looked down at the carved figurine again. “I really do love this, too. It’s like I’ll always have a little part of the White Wolf with me.”

           A childlike grin took over Bucky’s face at my words, and he nodded. “Exactly,” he murmured, and in that moment, a bond was created between Bucky and I.

           The temperature dropped when the sun went down, and the wind and snow hadn’t let up. We’d lit candles all over the cabin, both as a source of light and extra heat, and despite the storm raging outside it made the cabin feel pleasantly cozy.

           “It feels like we should have a Christmas tree,” I murmured. “With the candles and the fire, it would be completely cozy.”

           Bucky chuckled. “I could go out there and cut a tree down for you, doll, but we’d have nothing to decorate it with.”

           “I love how you aren’t questioning why I’d want a Christmas tree in February.”

           “Who wouldn’t want a Christmas tree in February?” Bucky replied. “Hell, Christmas year ‘round is something I could get behind.”

           “So, Bucky Barnes loves Christmas,” I mused. “Add that to the mental file of things I’ve learned about you since getting stranded here.”

           “We stay here any longer and you’ll officially know more about me than anyone but Steve,” he snorted, and I laughed.

           “I think I already have that in the bag. For instance, how many people can say they know you’re a cuddler?”

           Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “The hell I am –”

           “You were snuggled right up to me all night, Barnes; don’t try to deny it.”

           “I was keeping you warm,” he protested, and I smirked.

           “And after I’d woken up and you held me tighter like you didn’t want me to get up?”

           Bucky flushed crimson. “Tell anyone and I will make sure you get put on all the bullshit missions,” he mumbled, and I giggled.

           “It was cute,” I assured him. “I wish more people knew that Bucky, instead of the tough and stoic Bucky you show the world.” My face softened. “I wish I knew that Bucky better. He might just be one of my new favourite people.”

           “That Bucky doesn’t come out very often,” Bucky said, ducking his head. “Besides, he’s too soft. You can’t be soft in this line of business.”

           I shook my head. “You’re always in a work frame of mind,” I accused. “Doesn’t it get exhausting?”

           “Why do you think I was okay with being stranded here?”

           We were silent for a minute, and then I bumped his arm playfully with mine. “Enough serious talk,” I said. “Come sit by the fire with me. I’m starting to get chilled.”

           Bucky grinned and followed me to the living room. I took the fur blanket from the back of the couch and spread it over the hardwood floor in front of the hearth and settled onto it, my back leaning against the coffee table. Bucky settled down next to me, pulling a brown bottle from under the table.

           “Look what I found earlier,” he said, holding it out to me. It was whiskey. I took the bottle from him with an eyebrow arched.

           “You can’t even get drunk,” I pointed out, and he shrugged.

           “Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it. It’s single-barrel and aged twelve years. This is top-shelf whiskey,” Bucky replied. “Open it and tell me it’s not smooth as hell.”

           Tentatively, I unscrewed the cap and took a mouthful. It was strong but smooth, warming my belly almost immediately. I grinned as I handed the bottle back to Bucky. “It is pretty good,” I admitted. He took a swig and nodded.

           We each downed another mouthful, and then Bucky turned his head to look at me with his head slightly cocked to the side. “You’ve gotten to learn a bunch about me,” he said, “but I want to hear about you. Tell me something about (Y/N) (Y/L/N) that no one knows.”

           I wrinkled my nose. “I’m an open book.”

           “Then you’ll have no trouble with this. C’mon, (Y/N), there must be something no one knows about you. Let’s hear it.”

           Biting my lip, I gazed at the fire. I wasn’t sure if it was the whiskey buzzing in my veins or just how at-ease I felt right now, but when I opened my mouth the words came spilling out.

           “I got married, when I was seventeen,” I admitted quietly, and Bucky’s eyes rounded. “When…when I was sixteen, I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. They caught it early enough that they could treat it with chemo, and we thought it had worked. But then it came back, and I got really sick really fast. My boyfriend at the time – Adam – was scared I wasn’t going to make it through the second round of chemo. We had made plans to go to Columbia together to study law.” I shook my head, sad smile on my face. “We were young and we thought we were in love, so we wanted to be married before…well, before I died.”

           Bucky was looking at me with a mixture of shock, horror and respect. He shook his head, jaw agape. “(Y/N), I didn’t…I had no idea,” he breathed, and I chuckled.

           “No one on the team knows,” I replied. “The only people that know are my family, and Adam and his family.”

           “But you’re healthy now?” he asked, worry creasing his brow. I nodded.

           “They ended up having to remove my ovaries because the chemo wasn’t working the second time, and they took out my uterus too, just to be safe. I still have check-ups every year to be safe, but I’ve been cancer-free ever since.”

           “And…your marriage…” Bucky shifted uncomfortably. “Are you still…?”

           “God, no,” I snorted. “As soon as it was clear that I was going to make a full recovery, Adam realized that seventeen was way too young to be married. He wanted to be able to explore his options at Columbia – That’s what he told me. ‘And besides,’ he’d said, ‘I eventually want to have kids someday, and you can’t give me that.’”

           Even now, saying it left a bitter taste in my mouth. I scowled, taking a large swig of the whiskey. Bucky frowned.

           “What is he doing now?”

           The question caught me off-guard. “He’s a divorce lawyer in Manhattan, ironically enough,” I replied, and Bucky snorted.

           “So he’ll be easy to find, then,” he said, and I eyed him skeptically.

           “Why would that matter?”

           “Because the Winter Soldier just might pay him a visit when we get back to New York.”

           My eyes widened, and I leapt up onto my knees and shook my head vigorously. “Bucky, no,” I said. “Don’t you dare.”

           “Relax, I was only gonna threaten him. Maybe rough him up a bit, y’know, scare him –”

           “No. It was fourteen years ago, it’s in the past.” I grinned. “Besides, that asshole actually did me a favour – imagine if we were still married. I’d be absolutely miserable, in a loveless marriage and likely working as an underpaid lawyer. I would have never met Tony, or become an Avenger. And I wouldn’t be sitting here with you right now. So even though at the time Adam broke my heart, now I’m grateful for what he did.”

           “I still think he deserves to have his ass kicked,” Bucky grumbled. He met my eyes, his gaze fierce but soft. “I underestimated you, (Y/N),” he murmured apologetically. “I knew you were tough, but…To go through what you did at such a young age, and then to have the one person you thought had your back abandon you like that, for selfish reasons…”

           He shook his head, disgusted, and I chuckled. “Everything happens for a reason,” I said. “Honestly, the hardest thing to move on from out of the whole situation wasn’t the cancer or the divorce from Adam; it’s the knowledge that I will never be able to have children of my own.”

           I glanced down at my hands, suddenly sad. Bucky had urged me to open up, and now that I had started, I couldn’t stop. I bit my lip to keep it from quivering.

           “(Y/N), hey,” Bucky murmured, and then he was kneeling in front of me and taking a gentle hold of my chin to lift my gaze to his. He was frowning, but his eyes were soft. “Wanna know something else about me that no one knows?”

           My lips twitched. “Another Bucky Barnes tidbit? Of course.”

           Bucky’s smile was sad. “I can’t have kids either,” he told me. “After all the experimentation HYDRA did on me to try and copy the serum Irskine created for Steve, it…messed with things. At first it was just a suspicion, but…When I started getting my life back on track, I wanted to know for sure. I got them to run tests while I was in Wakanda, and the results confirmed my suspicions; the experiments had made me sterile.”

           My heart sank, and I felt tears spring to my eyes. “Oh, Bucky…” I whispered, and then before I knew what I was doing I had thrown my arms around him and pressed my face to his chest. I had startled him; I could feel it in the way his body tensed. But then his arms wound around me and he smoothed my hair with a large hand.

           “It’s funny,” he murmured, “how you never really realize you want something until you’re told you can’t have it. Steve was always the one who dreamed about settling down and having kids; I was always wanting to travel and see the world. But after everything I’ve been through, settling down with a family sounded nice. Of course, life had other plans.”

           “You deserve so much more than life has given you,” I sniffed, pulling away from him. He reached up to brush his thumb across my cheekbone, catching a stray tear that had escaped, and smiled sadly.

           “So do you, doll,” he murmured. “You’re an incredible woman – Kind, strong, smart, beautiful…Anyone that doesn’t see that is an idiot.”

           My heart fluttered against my ribcage, and I bit my lip. His mouth was close enough that if I just tilted my head and leaned in…

           No. I pulled back, and lifted the bottle of whiskey to my lips to down a large mouthful. That was a bad idea; a very bad idea. It was just the candles and the fire and the alcohol and the situation – I didn’t really want Bucky. Did I?

           I cleared my throat. “I must be surrounded by idiots, then,” I joked, to ease the tension in the room. Bucky chuckled and settled back into the spot next to me.

           “Men are dumb,” he said simply. “They were dumb a hundred years ago, and they’re dumb now. The only thing that’s changed is that now they have more ways to be dumb.”

           I arched an eyebrow. “Are you speaking from experience?” I asked, and he shot me a rueful grin.

           “I’ve done my fair share of dumb things when it comes to women,” he admitted. “My mother raised me to be a gentleman, and I had sisters so I knew how to act around girls. But sometimes none of that mattered and I still did something stupid to ruin things.” He shrugged. “No one is perfect, I guess.”

           “I don’t know…From what Steve has said, you were pretty smooth with the ladies in your day,” I teased, and Bucky snorted.

           “I could have gone on one date with one girl and Steve would have thought I was Casanova,” he deadpanned. “The poor kid couldn’t even talk to a dame without damn near having an asthma attack.”

           The laughter bubbled from my chest before I could stop it. Bucky grinned, and I shook my head as I struggled to compose myself.

           “Tell me Steve was wrong, though,” I insisted after a minute. “Tell me you weren’t the ladies’ man he makes you out to be.”

           Bucky’s cheeks flushed, and he pursed his lips. “I’ve been with my fair share of girls,” he admitted with a shrug, and I nodded.

           “I figured as much.”

           “But,” he continued, “I was always good to them. I never treated them as objects, and things always ended on good terms. My mama raised me well.”

           “I never suggested any different,” I told him, and his brow furrowed.

           “Then why does it matter how many girls I’ve been with?”

           “It doesn’t; I was just curious to see if Steve’s stories were true.”

           Bucky was silent for a moment, and then he turned his head to the side to look at me. “(Y/N), can I ask you a question?”

           I hesitated. “If you’re asking how many guys I’ve been with, a lady never tells,” I joked, trying once again to ease the tension in the air. Bucky’s lips twitched, but he shook his head.

           “No, not that,” he said. He wet his lips before continuing. “Did it actually bother you to think Natasha and I had been here together?”

           My stomach was in my throat. Bucky’s eyes searched mine, and I couldn’t pull my gaze away as I swallowed nervously. I couldn’t lie, though; the alcohol had my wits dulled, and he would detect a lie as soon as it came out of my mouth. Finally, I shrugged.

           “I wasn’t thrilled about it,” I admitted, and he frowned.

           “Why, though?”

           This was where it got complicated, because I wasn’t entirely sure myself why it had bothered me so much. “I don’t know. She’s just so beautiful, and the two of you have so much in common, I…” I felt the heat creep up my neck to my face. “It just…it bothered me to think that the two of you had been here, maybe in a similar situation to the one we’re in, and maybe she got you to open up to her in a way no one else had been able to do. I hated the thought that the two of you are perfect for each other and that…that things happened, and that she likely knew you better than I ever would.”

           By now, my cheeks were flaming. I had torn my gaze from his to stare instead at the fire, watching the flames like they were the only things holding me down. I had opened my big mouth, and now there was no going back. I felt embarrassed, pathetic and vulnerable, and part of me wished the flames would swallow me whole.

           “That’s…a lot to unpack,” Bucky finally exhaled, and I buried my face in my hands.

           “I’m sorry,” I groaned. “I shouldn’t have said anything…”

           “The only thing you have to be sorry for, doll, is thinking that I would, in any scenario, choose Natasha over you.”

           I froze, and then peeked through my fingers at him cautiously. He was watching me intensely, and I swallowed hard as I removed my hands from my face.

           “What are you saying?” I asked quietly, and Bucky chuckled.

           “I’m saying that, just as I’ve told everyone a thousand times before, Natasha is not my type. We’re almost too similar, in the wrong ways.” He shook his head. “I told you this morning that you had no reason to be jealous of her, doll. I meant it.”

           My voice was small. “I had no right to be jealous,” I whispered. “It’s not like I expected anything to happen between you and I.”

           “No?” Bucky had shifted his body to face me, and now he was looking at me with the same unreadable expression I’d seen on his face twice the day before. His flesh hand reached out to tug gently at the sleeve of my shirt – his shirt – as he wet his lips and looked back up to meet my eyes. “So you’re telling me,” he murmured, “that you have no idea what you’re doing to me, walking around here wearing my shirt?”

           I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth. Bucky’s eyes were hooded, and I felt my whole body heating under his gaze. I swallowed before speaking.

           “I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” I breathed, voice barely above a whisper, and he shook his head.

           “What did I tell you about apologizing, doll?” he told me. “I’m not mad. How can I be mad when you wear that shirt better than I ever could? It’s almost sinful, what it does to me, seeing you wearing my clothes.”

           “So is that why you gave me the shirt in the first place?” I asked, feeling suddenly bold. Bucky’s eyes glittered.

           “I gave it to you because you were turning into a popsicle and I knew my body heat would be trapped in the fabric and it would warm you up faster,” he replied with a chuckle. “In the moment, my thoughts had been about making you comfortable. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I’d let anything happen to you.”

           My insides melted. “Did that concern for me come as concern for a teammate, or a friend…?” I asked. “Or…?”

           “Or,” Bucky agreed, his own cheeks pink now. “Something else. Something more. Something I hadn’t been able to explain for weeks now, until the second I saw you with my shirt on.”

           My brow furrowed. “Weeks?”

           This time he ducked his head. “Remember that mission in São Paulo a few weeks ago?” he asked, and I nodded.

           “The one where I jumped onto that school bus to save those kids?” I asked, and Bucky frowned.

           “You mean the one where you almost died?”

           “If I didn’t do something those kids would have died –”

           “(Y/N), you were on a third-storey balcony and you jumped onto a moving bus whose hood was entirely engulfed in flames…” Bucky shook his head. “That’s not the point. The point is that when I saw you jump onto that bus, I swear to god my heart stopped. I mean, there’s the concern you feel for your teammates when they’re in a dangerous situation. But then there’s the heart-wrenching fear you get when you’re about to watch someone you care about get seriously hurt or even die. And when that thought crossed my mind, (Y/N) – the thought that I was about to lose you – I’d never felt more terrified for someone else in my entire life. And I couldn’t understand at the time why it mattered so much to me, but now…Now I get it.”

           For a few seconds, the air hung heavy as neither of us spoke. The only sounds in the cabin were the howling of the wind outside, the crackling of the fire in the hearth, and our shallow and ragged breaths. I realized that my body had slowly, subconsciously gravitated closer to Bucky’s; our knees touched, and my hand was resting on his thigh. My eyes caught the way his gaze lingered on my lips before flicking up to meet mine, and before I could talk myself out of it, I was sitting up and capturing Bucky’s lips with mine.

           There was no resistance as his soft lips moved against mine, hands on my waist to pull me into his lap. My legs straddled his hips, and my arms circled around his neck as his hands held tight to my waist. My tongue teased his bottom lip and his mouth yielded to mine, allowing me to explore the kiss deeper as his hands roamed across my back and pulled me closer to him. His lips broke from mine to trail down my jaw to my throat, where he nipped teasingly at the sensitive flesh. I tilted my head back to allow him better access, and as his mouth nipped and sucked at my throat, no doubt leaving his mark on me, his hands had slipped under the hem of his Henley to knead at my flesh. I let out a soft groan, and felt him grin against my neck.

           “Y’know, doll,” he murmured, lifting his head to nip lightly at my earlobe, “as much as I like seeing you wearing my shirt, I think I’d like it even more if I got to take it off of you.”

           I shivered, and then I was lifting my arms so Bucky could slowly tug the shirt over my head, revealing that I wasn’t wearing a bra. His gaze fell to my chest, eyes dark as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. I should have felt exposed, but the hunger with which he was regarding me with only had me dizzy with desire. He took his time admiring me, hands slowly roaming my curves, but avoiding my breasts purposely.

           “God, you’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he murmured, voice husky, and I took his face in my hands and pulled his mouth back to mine in a fierce kiss. My fingers ran through his hair and he sighed into my mouth, flesh hand sliding down my back to give my ass a playful squeeze. I squealed and he grinned wolfishly.

           “Oh, this is gonna be fun,” he chuckled, and my body trembled in anticipation. When he leaned in to take one of my nipples into his mouth and suck lightly, I keened, fingers tangling in his hair.

           “Bucky…” I whined, and he peppered soft kisses across my chest.

           “Yeah, doll?” he murmured, hands massaging my hips as his mouth tended to my breasts. I let out a huff, trying to compose myself enough to speak. His touch already had me hazy, though, and it was difficult to form words.

           “Too many clothes,” I finally managed to mumble, and he took the hint as he leaned back enough to yank the t-shirt over his head. My eyes dropped to his bare chest, and then my fingertips were tracing the dips and planes of his hard muscles. I could feel those muscles contracting under my touch, and when I reached his shoulder where metal met flesh I hesitated. Bucky scowled.

           “It’s not pretty, I know,” he mumbled, and I pursed my lips. I pressed a quick kiss to his mouth before letting my lips ghost over the puckered skin on his shoulder. Bucky inhaled sharply, and when I reached down to thread my fingers through his vibranium ones and lift his hand to kiss his knuckles, he watched me with burning eyes and a slack jaw.

           “There isn’t a single thing about you that could make me want you any less, Bucky Barnes,” I whispered, and then his free hand was cupping the back of my neck and pulling my mouth back to his. The kiss was slow, tender and deep, and I hugged my body tighter to his in an effort to be closer to him. In doing so, it put me in a position to feel the bulge in the front of Bucky’s sweatpants. I rocked my hips against his experimentally with the tiniest of whimpers when I was rewarded with the friction I craved, and Bucky’s breath hitched.

           “Doll…” he rasped, hands tightening on my waist. I pulled back to meet his gaze with hooded eyes.

           “Please…” I begged softly. “Bucky, please.”

           I was fully aware of how desperate I sounded, but it was a shameless awareness. The need to feel his touch ran so deep it was practically an ache – An ache I desperately needed him to soothe. His eyes were black pools of lust as he looked at me, licking his lips as he contemplated his next move carefully.

           “So needy, baby girl,” he murmured, fingertips teasing as they skimmed across my bare flesh. I shuddered and he grinned lazily. “God, the things I wanna do to you…You want me to touch you, doll?”

           I nodded, unable to speak. Bucky’s eyes sparkled.

           “Gonna take real good care of you, sweetheart, I promise. Gonna show you how a real man treats a woman as incredible as you.” He kissed the valley between my breasts, hands playing with the waistband of my sweatpants. I was on fire, between his words and his touch, and I was spiralling into a daze that I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to leave. “Is that what you want, doll?” Bucky murmured. “You want me to take care of that ache for you?”

           I whimpered; was it that obvious I was aching for him? I could only nod meekly, but Bucky shook his head.

           “Words, doll,” he said, gentle but firm. “I’m not doing a thing until I hear you say it.”      

           His voice was still husky, but his eyes were suddenly cautious, as if he wasn’t sure I actually wanted this. I frowned, in disbelief that even now he was letting his insecurities convince him he wasn’t the only thing in the world I wanted. I took his face firmly between my hands and held his gaze to mine.

           “I want you to claim me as yours,” I whispered, “so that when anyone sees the two of us together, they know I belong to you and only you. I want you to fuck me so good that I can still feel you even after we’ve gotten back to New York.”

           Bucky’s eyes darkened until just the thinnest ring of blue remained around his pupils. “Oh, fuck,” he choked out, and then he was laying me down as his mouth claimed mine in a searing kiss. The blanket was soft on the skin of my back, protecting against the chill of the hardwood underneath, but I wouldn’t care if I was laying outside in the snow if it meant Bucky would touch me.

           His hands slowly – agonizingly – dragged the sweatpants from my hips. I let out a huff of frustration and he chuckled.

           “Patience, darlin’,” he breathed. “I wanna take my time with you, but I promise I’ll make it all worth it.”

           Bucky kissed his way up the inside of my leg and then down the other, purposely ignoring where I needed him the most. When his hands finally pushed my legs apart at the knees to expose me, I was a mess, biting my lip with my chest heaving. His eyes raked over my core hungrily before flashing up to my face.

           “Fucking hell,” he rasped. “Look at you, doll; you’re dripping like honey.”

           “All for you, Buck,” I said, breathless. “This is what you do to me.”

           Bucky groaned, and then his fingers swiped through my folds. I gasped at the sudden contact, back arching off the floor, and the grin that stretched across his face was pure sin. Pulling my legs over his shoulders, he wrapped his arms loosely around my thighs and then licked a clean stripe up my slit. I cried out, back arching again, and his arms tugged my hips back down gently.

           “Good girl,” he murmured, before his mouth went back to work. His tongue explored my folds, and then dipped into my entrance to gather my juices. I squeezed my eyes shut, hands fisting into the soft fur of the blanket beneath me as electricity buzzed through every nerve in my body. “Sweet as candy,” Bucky murmured into my flesh, and I keened.

           When his lips wrapped around my clit and sucked, my hips bucked and I writhed in Bucky’s grasp. He let me shamelessly grind against his face for a few moments, but then his arms were firm as they pushed my hips back down to the blanket and held them there. His mouth continued its assault on my core, licking and sucking and nibbling until my chest was flushed and I was reduced to incoherent moans and whimpers. With my hips locked into place, I had to use my hands to direct his mouth. My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging on the dark locks to hold his face to me, and Bucky groaned into me, sending vibrations through my core that had a fresh wave of heat crash through me. I tugged harder, nails scraping his scalp, and he growled.

           “Oh, you’re asking for it now,” he said in a low voice, and then he was teasing my entrance with not one, but two fingers. He pushed them into me slowly, watching my face for my reaction, and I moaned obscenely as he curled them and his knuckles brushed my walls. With a triumphant smirk, Bucky’s lips reattached to my clit as his thick fingers pumped in and out of me at an excruciatingly slow pace. My breaths were coming out in sharp rasps as I felt the coil in my belly tighten, teetering oh-so-close to the edge.

           Bucky must have been able to tell I was close, because he added a third finger and grazed my clit lightly with his teeth. I cried out his name as he pushed me over the edge, eyes squeezed shut and hands curling into fists in his hair. He pulled out his fingers and helped me ride out my high with gentle licks and soft kisses, and when my body finally relaxed, boneless, against the blanket, he kissed his way up my body to press his lips to mine.

           I tasted myself on his tongue, and I hummed delightedly. Bucky grinned into the kiss and nipped at my bottom lip playfully.

           “I have never seen something more beautiful than you when you come undone, doll, fuck,” he breathed. “If I died right now, I would die a happy man.”

           I giggled and pinched his side teasingly. “We’re not done yet,” I told him wryly, and then my hands were shoving Bucky’s sweatpants off his hips. He kicked them off impatiently, and my hand immediately wrapped around him. He grunted, and I felt the heat pool in my belly as I let out a soft whine – He was thick and hot and impossibly hard in my grip, and my walls were already clenching in anticipation.

           I began to slide my hand up and down his shaft, and a low hiss escaped Bucky’s lips as his eyes fluttered shut. I tried to push him off me so I could trade my hand for my mouth, but Bucky shook his head.

           “No,” he said gruffly, and my brow furrowed in confusion.

           “What?”

           I must have had a hurt look on my face, because his eyes widened and he was quick to press a tender kiss to my lips. “Oh, baby girl, no, it’s not like that,” he said quickly. “I would love to know how your mouth feels, trust me, but right now, my god, I need to be inside you so badly it hurts.”

           “Oh…” I breathed, biting my lip. Bucky’s hand replaced mine on his length and he lined himself up with my entrance, teasing it with the tip. My breath hitched, and he looked at me imploringly.

           “You sure about this?” he murmured, and instead of answering I rocked my hips against his, allowing him to slip fully inside me in one smooth stroke.

           Bucky’s eyes rounded; I had surprised him. They quickly darkened as he let out a low groan, and I bit my lip, letting out a whine as he stretched me better than I’d ever been stretched before. Bucky held still for a moment, giving me time to adjust to his size and him time to compose himself.

           I tilted my head up, lips searching for his, and he dipped his head to oblige me. When we broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine, breath hot against my face.

           “Tell me when you’re ready,” he murmured.

           “I’m ready,” I replied without hesitation. “Please, Buck…”

           With a strangled groan, Bucky slowly slid out of me before pushing back in. I drew a shuddering breath, relishing in how full I felt with him inside me. The pace he set was languid and unhurried, and despite having been so desperate to feel him, now that we were joined, I was more than happy with slowing things down. There was no need to rush – We weren’t leaving the cabin anytime soon, which meant we had plenty of time to learn every inch of each other’s bodies.

           Every languorous stroke was well-placed, hitting me in all the right spots until I was whimpering and entirely at Bucky’s mercy. I quickly came to the conclusion, though, that Bucky was just as much at my mercy as I was at his; I could feel it in every tender touch, kiss and thrust that he was all in – That this was more than just fuelled by desire. It had been a long time since someone had been so attentive to my body and my feelings, it made my heart swell.

           “Look at me,” Bucky suddenly whispered. “Look at me, doll.”

           I hadn’t even realized my eyes had been closed, and I blinked them open, only to have my breath catch in my throat. Bucky’s face hovered above mine, his eyes fixed on mine. I could see the fire dancing in his irises, casting golden streaks through the pools of blue; he had never been more breathtaking than he was right now. It wasn’t the colours in his eyes that had taken my breath away, though; it was the expression they held. Bucky, normally so closed-off and hard to read, was an entirely open book. His eyes held everything that his mouth couldn’t say – Trust, happiness, reverence, adoration…There was even something else there, something I dared not even put into thought for fear of ruining if before it could even begin. He was completely vulnerable, vulnerable for me, and I knew how big of a deal that was for him. With a lump in my throat and my heart fluttering wildly against my ribcage, I lifted a hand to brush my fingertips across his lips.

           “James…” I said breathlessly. The use of his real name had him groaning softly, and then he was dipping his head to kiss me deeply. He snapped his hips into mine, still at the same slow pace, but with more force behind the strokes now. A breathy whine escaped my lips and Bucky pressed his forehead to mine, chest heaving as he fought to even his breathing.

           “Eyes on me, doll,” he panted, rolling his hips into mine and earning another wanton moan. “I want to see you when you come apart around me.”

           “Fuck…” I whimpered, forcing my eyes to remain open despite it being so natural for them to drift shut as the coil in my belly tightened. Bucky’s gaze was piercing, hungry, and unabashedly intimate as he fucked into me, slow and hard and so unbelievably good that the rest of the world – the storm still roaring outside, the knowledge that HYDRA was probably out there looking for us, our teammates back home planning to rescue us – melted away until it was just him and I, our bodies joined in the most profound and visceral way, energy buzzing from his body to mine and back again until it was impossible to tell where he ended and I began.

           I reached my climax only seconds before Bucky did, brows knitting together as I struggled to keep my eyes on him, lips parted as I gasped sharply. Bucky’s eyes clouded over with pure, unadulterated desire, and then his hips stuttered and he was spilling into me with a groan that rumbled deep in his chest, his expression one of absolute bliss. His mouth found mine as we rode out our highs; the kiss was sloppy and lazy, both of us absolutely spent, but it was also sweet and tender. Bucky’s nose bumped mine affectionately, and then he was dipping his head to press his face to the juncture between my neck and shoulder.

           My fingers carded idly through his damp hair for a handful of seconds, and he hummed contentedly. Then his arms circled under me and he rolled us over so he was on his back and I was sprawled across his chest, our legs tangled together and his softening member still inside me.

           Neither of us said anything, but we didn’t have to; our bodies had already said everything that needed to be said. The wind still wailed outside, but the fire kept the cabin cozy, and the flames from the hearth and the candles bathed the room in a warm, golden glow. Bucky’s hand brushed through my hair before his fingertips swept down the naked expanse of my body, raising goosebumps on my flushed skin. I turned my head to press my lips to his heated chest, burying myself further in his embrace, and in this moment – skin-to-skin, curled up on a soft blanket by a crackling fire – I was more grateful than I ever thought I could be for a plane crash in the mountains in Austria.

[winterironficrecs]

Mistakes Are My Thing, by Tahlruil

Words: 5,895

Status: Completed

Summary: Pepper Potts is getting married, and Tony is over the moon for her - he just wants her to be happy, after all. Her wedding will be the best, happiest day in history, because she deserves it... the only problem is, to keep her happy, he has to bring his boyfriend. The one he invented just over a year ago to keep her from worrying about him after their breakup. The one based on a guy who he's pretty sure doesn't even like him. At least Bucky agreed to go with him and pretend to be his boyfriend for the event.

This is such a mistake.

[thefandomthings]

Thunder Thigh's

Thor x F!Reader

WARNINGS: Floof, a little suggestive, insecure reader

A/n: Love your frucking thighs BITCHES! And requests are open! Sorry for any spelling mistakes

Two words.

Thunder.

Thighs.

You have been called those Two words your whole life. That's why you always wear jeans instead of shorts or yoga pants. You have a smaller uper body, then you have your thighs. You have tried to slim them down by working out, but they stayed the same size, but instead of fat it was muscle making up your leg. 

You never used to be insecure about them till you got to middle school and high school. The girls always made fun of you because you have larger thighs, and they just expand when you sit!

That's why you started to wrap your thighs so they arnt so large. It is a horrible thing, but the worst part is that Thor, your boyfriend, thinks that they are natural! You haven't had the confidence to tell him, afraid that is you do he will leave you for some one better.

Today you were going to show him your actual thighs, but that failed, because you lost your confidence. So since Thor left for the afternoon doing Avenger things, you decided to wear shorts and let your thighs breathe.

You sigh in relief as you sit down on your soft F/c couch, your thighs enjoying the soft fabric. You giggle and turn on the TV and start 'A Christmas Prince '. You smile as the movie starts with a Christmas carol, your mind drifting to the movie and forgetting about your thighs for once in your life.

Thor entered the door wanting to see you, his queen. He sets Stormbreaker on top of the fridge wear the seal is for the door, knowing it Will piss you off, and followed the sound of the TV. He found you sitting on the couch with a red knitted sweater and F/c shorts. He smiled and quietly walks over to the couch.

"Hello my love! I didn't even know you owned a pair of shorts! What's the occasion dear?" Thor asked loudly, making you jump. You gasp and quickly grab the blanket from off the back of the couch and cover your legs. Thor frowns at the action and kneels next to you.

He slowly pulls the blanket off your legs, and sets it next to him. "Why did you cover these?" He asked gently squeezing your leg. You purse you Lips together debating whether to tell him or not. You sigh out in defeat as you look into his pleading blue eyes. "Because Thor...I didn't want you to see them" You whisper, ashamed of yourshelf.

Thor stayed quite as he stood up and sat next to you, while taking your hand and pulling you into his lap. You shudder and bury you face into his shoulder. He shakes his head and pulled you off his shoulder, making you look at him. "My Love, why didn't you want me to see your thighs? Is there something wrong with them?" He asked rubbing your arms up and down. "Yes, there is something wrong with them" You say fiddling with your sweater. Thor hums wanting you to continue as he rests his hands on the sides if your thighs.

"They are ugly, and fat" You breath. Thor scoffs and squeezes your thighs before he spoke. "These are FAR from ugly! And this-" He paused poking you thigh. "This is muscle, no fat Love" He smiled gently making you smile.

He stuffed his face in the crook if your neck, his beard tickling your collorbone making you laugh. Thor chuckles and starts tickling your sides, making you squirm and try and push him off of you. "I sur-ur-Surrender!" You laugh breathlessly laying on the couch. Thor laughs and flops down on you, making all the air leave your chest. Him being 6'6 and a GOD, it's hard for this teddy bear to lay on someone 3 times smaller than him.

Thor sees you struggling to breath and sits up using his elbows. You catch your breath before leaning up and kissing the blonde God while running your fingerd over his beard. After you too pull away you stand up and stretch, your back and shoulders popping. You sigh in relief and started walking to the kitchen.

"We're are you going Lady Y/n?" Thor asks looking over the back of the couch, only his short hair and eyes visdable. "To the kitchen to get us some milk and cookies!" You giggle and continue to walk into the kitchen.

"Thor Odinson!"

Thor roars with laughter as you chase him around trying to get him to take his axe off the fridge!

[stuckysbike]

Howl 4

Werewolf!Bucky x Werewolf!Reader

Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader (for now).

Warnings: werewolf Bucky, werewolf Steve, werewolf Nat, dark themes. Mature, 18+. Exes to lovers (hopefully), violence.

“He thinks if we’re a family he’ll get power, he wants me to be his mate, so I can be bait,” you suggested eventually.

The truck had stopped out of sight of Rumlow’s place. Part of you wondered if this was a trap, it felt too easy but you also knew Rumlow wasn’t prone to thinking things through, hence his obsession with the idea that acting as Jamie’s father would melt him an alpha.

When no one protested your chest felt hollow. Bucky was driving now and Steve was beside you but they didn’t look your way, probably relieved you suggested it. Once upon a time you had friends and family and now, because of one stupid mistake, because you believed one lie, you had nothing but Jamie.

And you were about to lose him too.

Bucky would never let the boy go, not now, and Steve would do whatever Bucky asked. You would be around sure, but on the edge of the pack. You hadn’t been cunning enough or brave enough to fight back in your teenage years. You ran away and that was unforgivable.

Some wolf you were. Your ancestors would be ashamed of you. You hung your head in shame, sending a prayer to them begging their forgiveness.

“We can mask our scents,” Steve said as Bucky pulled over.

“He’s a beta so he’ll take longer to notice you,” your hands shook. You were terrified, but your priority was Jamie.

As you got to the door, you balked, but you pushed on. A tear slipped out but you brushed it away, reaching for the door knocker. You noticed your poor cuticles were ragged, and your hands looked worn with bitten nails. You probably didn’t smell that good either but you didn’t think Rumlow would care.

“I knew you’d come around eventually pretty,” Rumlow opened the door his greedy eyes sweeping over you. “Boys in his room. Upstairs.”

You nodded and started to head for the stairs but he caught your hair and yanked you back. You yelled out in pain and shock. He spoke, his coffee stained breath wafting over your face.

“Not so fast, I’ll be claiming you first,” he shoved you towards the back of the house and down a flight of stairs. “Soundproofed. So we don’t traumatise the boy.”

You pushed him away with all your strength and turned to face him. Rumlow smirked as he came closer, pressing his face almost against yours. “Boo!”

“I won’t run for you,” you said. You had a few scraps of dignity and you refused to let go of them.

“You will,” he shoved you back twisting you to face away from him.

“I’d rather wither and die,” you snarled over your shoulder. His hand curled around your neck and he shoved you forward until you hung over his work bench.

“Bitch,” he snarled as he cupped your throat.

There was a boom and a crash upstairs and Rumlow pulled you up.

“What have you done?” He yelled in your face, spit flying everywhere.

“Don’t move,” a strong voice commanded. An alpha. It was Steve coming down the stairs. He had a gun in his hand and his eyes were on both of you.

“Whore,” Rumlow hissed at you.

“Let her go and we’ll leave her here for you,” Steve said. Someone followed him into the room. It was Bucky.

“We just want the boy and we’ll go,” Bucky added. He was carrying a gun himself, and it was trained on both of you.

Your eyes widened for a fraction. They were going to leave you here, they were willing to leave you to his mercy. You trusted them to save you not leave you to a monster.

“The boy is mine,” Rumlow said. You felt his claws dig into your throat. “I’ll kill her if you come any closer.”

“Go ahead, barely remember her anyway, mediocre one night stand,” Bucky took another step closer. “My advice is not to waste your time Pal.”

You cried out as his hand tightened and blood trickled down your throat. He was calling Bucky’s bluff. You were going to die.

“Tell Jamie I love him,” you whispered.

“Got him!” A female voice yelled from upstairs. It was Natasha.

Rumlow yelled and went to launch for Bucky but Bucky knocked him to the side easily, then twisted him onto the floor, grasping a handful of his hair and snarling quietly in his ear. You swore you heard the words “my girl” but there was so much going on that it must have been misheard.

“Buck,” Steve warned. Bucky snarled again and shook Rumlow’s hair then pushed his face onto the floor.

Bucky stood and shook his shoulders, dark angry eyes flirting around the room. You gasped at the darkness in his look, swallowing your anxiety down when his eyes locked with yours. A moment later two of the pack were hurrying forward and restraining Rumlow as he struggled.

“You okay?” Bucky asked softly as he took your hand.

You wobbled, wavering on the spot and then you were in his arms, Bucky catching you as your knees buckled. “Hey, hey, easy,” he whispered as he stroked your back.

There was a commotion upstairs and a yelp and suddenly Jamie was wrapped around your legs, an adorable growl emanating from his chest.

“Hey Baby,” you said as he looked up at Bucky, his blue eyes narrowing. You stroked his hair glad to see he at least looked okay. He pressed his head into your hand.

“She’s my mama,” he said possessively. He puffed his little chest out ready to fight for you and tears welled in your eyes.

Bucky nodded. “You’re right. She is,” Bucky agreed as he lowered himself to Jamie’s height.

“You’re my dad,” Jamie said with narrowed eyes.

“How did you know that?” Bucky asked his voice awed. He was dying to reach out, to touch but he didn’t want to spook Jamie. His hand was still on your leg though keeping you as a light barrier between them.

“Mama talks about you all the time,” Jamie said.

“Let’s do a deal kid, let me help you with your mama and then you and I can talk about whatever you want?”

Jamie narrowed his eyes again assessing Bucky carefully, then held his hand out for Bucky to shake. Bucky took his hand and then Jamie surprised everyone by hugging Bucky.

You drifted into a daze as Jamie took your hand and pulled you forward. “Let’s get away from the bad man,” he glared Rumlow’s way and stuck his tongue out as he led you up the stairs, Bucky and the pack in tow.

—————

Jamie sat between you and Bucky in the backseat. You listened as Jamie interrogated his father, his curiosity shining through.

Bucky and Natasha had softened but Steve still glared at you via the rear view mirror from time to time. You tried to avoid his eyes but you still felt his anger.

Bucky asked you to stay with him and when you got to his home Winnifred and Rebecca were there already making up the spare rooms eager to meet Jamie.

And Jamie, he was thrilled. He’d missed having a family and you stood back and watched your boy bond with them. Both Barnes women pointedly ignored you so it was easy to slip away to the kitchen.

Your hands shook as you sipped on a glass of water.

“You okay?” Bucky asked.

You nodded. “I’m just really tired,” you admitted.

It was true, you were emotionally, physically and mentally exhausted. Your last few years had been hell as you tried to protect Jamie from threats and now that you were here you felt like you might fall apart, but you were at Bucky’s mercy.

“Look, why don’t you go lie down,” Bucky suggested. You shook your head.

“I can’t. Jamie needs me,” you said.

Bucky didn’t argue but he rubbed your back. “Then go take a hot shower and change into something comfortable. I’ll be here with Jamie. I won’t let anything happen to him.” When you hesitated he tilted his head to the side. “He’ll be here when you get out.”

You nodded and headed off to the room made up for you grateful for a private space to relax in.

Next

[cevans-seb]

Bucky FWB Drabble Pt 2

A/N: This is part 2 of 3. It was going to be one part but I am exhausted and wanted this out.

—-

Here you are again, tangled with Bucky as his softly snores in your ear. Since that day, your rotation stayed the same with him only calling when he wanted to have sex or needed an excuse to leave his friends. Your own heart and pussy betrayed every other part of your body because of this cruel man who peacefully slumbers beside you.

You feel fresh tears prick your eyes as you ponder your next move. It has been a few months since the sex felt intimate…hell, your toy gave more pleasure than Bucky has. He was always selfish, but this was low even for him. Glancing over at him, you wonder if you could suffocate him and pass it off as an accident because not only has he become more selfish but his jealousy rose to a new height. The man oozes green mist whenever a man is near you, as if he doesn’t still entertain other women. He might’ve not fucked Natasha that night but a rumor has been swirling around about him and the new commander, Maria.

Adjusting your bonnet, you huff out in frustration when he rolls over his back facing you. You knew that your wit ends was near between Bucky’s shitty attitude and your overall despartion for his love, although you felt you were competing in an unfair game. It was time to quit. Bucky was never going to change. He never saw you more than a warm body that became accessible to him whenever he needed a fix, but not anymore. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t enough for you to love fully.” You whispered. And with a heavy heart, you slid out of bed.

Leaving his house was a mission within itself, it was difficult skimming the room for your clothes since James has a deep hatred apparently towards sweaters and panties-which you are looking for now. While you searched you failed to notice how close you were to his bedside lamp and just as luck was on your side, it vanished when it shattered.

“Shit,” you cursed as Bucky groaned.

“Are you okay, princess.” It rolled off his tongue with ease, he stretched his long limbs while you stood frozen in place. “We can clean it up later, and come back to bed.” He reached out for you.

“I think I’ll head home, James. I shouldn’t have spent the night anyway.” You heard him mummer something under his breath but decided to ignore it for your own sanity. “And I don’t wanna argue tonight, princess. I want to hold you so come here.” There goes that nickname again. It felt superficial coming from him. “I’m serious. I’m going home and I’m not doing this with you anymore. Whatever this farce is, it’s over. Which means no more late night calls, sext, or nudes. We’re over, Bucky.” You heaved. “Done with not being your number one person.”

Bucky was wide awake now.

His gears churned with your words bouncing off in his head as he felt his own heart lurch out of his chest and onto his lap. “Why do we have to complicate things, baby? We have fun shouldn’t that be enough.” He asked. “No James, think about it for one second. I have clothes, a toothbrush, and a fucking bonnet in your house but all I am to you is a fuck buddy! I want to make it work with you but you don’t fucking care about me. I’m tired of being just a hole to you.” You cried out, clutching your chest as all what you were thinking about flew out of your mouth. This stunned Bucky, his mouth agape. “Goodbye James,” you took in his silence before walking out of his room.

_____

[blackwidownat2814]

Roll the Dice (B.B)

Summary:

Then.

After an argument with your mother, you rage-search for a new job, eventually landing on the homepage of your local county and off the cuff, apply for an opening at the library you frequented as a child.

Your first day on the job changed your life. A few years later, you got your Master’s in Library Science, and left your hometown...

…and you ended up in Manhattan at the New York Public Library, a few blocks from a certain Tower.  

And after meeting the Black Widow herself, Natasha Romanoff, when she, Captain America, the Falcon, Wanda, and Thor came to do a program for the kids one weekend, Nat and Captain Rogers (“Please, call me Steve.”) invited you back to the Tower to meet the rest of the team.

And the rest, as they say, is history…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word Count: 3490

Warnings: fluff.  

A/N: I haven’t written anything in almost three(?) years.  I just stopped.  But then, I sat down in March 2021 to watch The Falcon & the Winter Soldier and my brain started poking me to write so many different plot bunnies, y’all have no idea.  I was inspired to actually finish something thanks to @pellucid-constellations #LoveLettersWritingChallenge.

I am new to writing reader insert fic, so I wrote what I know and that’s being Latina.  I am constantly reading up on how to make reader insert fics more inclusive, so I will try to make it less specific next time I write.  However, once again, I am Latina so that might come up now and again, while I get used to writing all inclusively.

Also, thanks to @beefybuckrrito for all the help in beta-ing this oneshot!  You the best queen!  Another shout out to my girl Col @foreverindreamlandd for no reason other than she’s awesome!

‼️⚠️I do not give permission for any of my work to be copied, translated or reposted anywhere else but on my own blog.⚠️‼️

Masterlist

Now.

A knock on the door brings you out of your stupor.  You’d been staring at your reflection in the mirror for the past 30 minutes.

You should probably take your ADHD meds on a day like this.

Another knock and Nat steps into the room, with Wanda in tow.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“Like I need my meds.”  Nat laughs and rolls her eyes, while Wanda waves her hand and your pill case floats out of your bag on the couch and over to you.

“Thanks, Wan.”  You down your first pill and the pill case floats away.

“I’ll hold onto these for now and hand them over later.”

“Perfect.”  You take another sip of water and look back at your friends.  “So, what’s up?”

“Bucky gave me this for you.”  Nat handed over a small(ish) black box and an envelope.  Your eyes widened when you saw the gold embossed -HW- on the top.

“Oh my God, he didn’t.”

“He did.”  Wanda gave you a big smile.

“Oh wow.  Um…”  You placed the items on the vanity and went over to where your robe lay discarded, pulling an envelope from the pocket.  “I wrote something for Bucky too.  Can you give it to him Wanda?  And please tell him that the other envelope inside this one is his gift, but he can’t open it until right before dinner?  Make sure you give him a Look, so he knows I mean business.”

“Of course.”  Wanda took the letter and left.

“Do you want me to stay?” asked Nat, “Or would you rather I let you read that in private?”

“I’d like a moment alone, if it’s cool.”

“Of course.”  Nat gives you a hug and goes to leave.  “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”  She leaves you with a smile, and you turn to the envelope, where Bucky’s ‘chicken scratch’-

“Chicken scratch?!  Sweetheart, my handwritin’ is impeccable.”

You stare him down with a bored look on your face, arms crossed, and raise an eyebrow.

“It is, too!”

You keep staring.

“Stevie!”  Bucky calls over to his best friend who’d just walked into the common room of the Tower.

“What’s up, Buck?”

“I need ya to settle an argument ‘tween me and my girl:  she says my handwritin’ is the worst and-”

“Buck, your handwriting is shit.”

“Damnit!”

-spells My Doll on the front.  You open the envelope and laugh when you recognize the Avengers stationary one of your coworkers gave you as a funny gift.  You kept it in your desk in the apartment you two shared.

Taking a deep breath, you unfolded the letter and began to read.

My Doll, my sweetheart, my love…

I’m not the best with words.  You know this.  Everyone does, if we’re being honest.  But I’m going to try my best.

I love you so much.  I think (as cheesy as this sounds) I’ve loved you since the day we met when you came to see Nat at the Tower that first time.  You were so nervous, despite having met so much of the team already.  I wanted so badly to talk to you that day, but I was scared you wouldn’t want to talk to me at all.  Sure, I’d been pardoned, but why would someone made of sunshine and happiness want to know me?  But then, I went to the library one day, just to see you and maybe say Hi.  I heard you talking to some lady who told you to make sure you stayed away from me.  I’ll never forget what you said to her: ‘But who prays for Satan?  Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner who needed it most?’  You hit that lady with a Mark Twain quote (I looked it up later) and she was speechless.  That’s when I knew you were the one for me.

You didn’t even blink or look at me like I’m a murder when I told you everything the Soldier did.  You’ve stood by me through nightmares and sleepless nights and the mood swings and everything else.  There were times when I was sure that when I came back to the apartment, you and your stuff would be gone or you’d be sitting in our living room, waiting to tell me all the reasons you were leaving me.  I was so sure that one day, I’d come home and Alpine would be meowing at the door because her ma was gone and hadn’t come back.  Every day I came home to find you there (even if you weren’t speaking to me because I was an asshole), I was happier than the last. You helped me to stop retreating into my brain on the bad days.

I gotta end here, ‘cause Nat is staring at me and she’s scary.  I hope you like the gift I sent along.  I know how much your abuela meant to you, and I wanted you to have this today.  I had it cleaned up and restored; it’s all the same jewels, just the parts holding them in place were fixed or added since some were missing.

I’ll see you later, okay doll?

Love,

Your Bucky

PS: I love you.

Below Bucky’s letter is part of a quote from one of your favorite movies, The Young Victoria:

“You are my whole existence.  And I will love you until my last breath.”

You laugh, tears had started flowing at the letter’s greeting, because you remember watching that movie with Bucky, and he complained several times-

“Where’s the action, doll?” “It’s a romance, Buck, and a period piece.  You should know all about period pieces.” “She died 16 years before I was born.  And wasn’t that guy her cousin?” “Yes, but…the movie’s so good, it helps you forget that.  Just…ugh!  Just let me enjoy the love story, old man!” Five minutes later, he fell asleep.  You would never begrudge him his sleep time, since he often had trouble doing so.  You let him sleep, and finished the movie.

-and you were 1000% positive that he’d been out cold when Albert said that very line to Victoria.  Apparently, he wasn’t.

You put the letter down on the vanity, and pick up the package.  You open the box, and nestled in black velvet is a cluster bangle bracelet made of diamonds and emeralds.  When your beloved abuela died years ago, it was one of the things left to you in her Will.  You remember telling Bucky about it and how you dreamed of getting it fixed one day.

Once again, you’re brought out of your thoughts by a knock on the door and Nat comes back in.

“I’m glad we waited to do your makeup.”  She smiles and lifts you from your seat, into a hug.  “Want me to help you put it on?”

“Please.”  Nat takes the bracelet carefully and clips it on.

“This probably qualifies as ‘something old’, don’t you think?”

Meanwhile.

“You know, James, you have nothing to worry about.”

Bucky’s head snapped over to the doorway to see Wanda.

“We’ve talked about goin’ into my head, Wanda.  You know how much I hate that.”  Bucky turns away from her and goes back to watching a video of you he has on his phone, one of his favorites:  you’re sitting on a table, legs dangling, watching some of the team talking to a group of kids at the library.  One of the kids in the group raises his hand for a question…

A couple years ago…

“Mr. Thor!”

“Yes, small child?”

“How strong are you Mr. Thor?!”

“I am very strong!  I’ve fought the Hulk-”

Several little gasps are heard.

“-and survived.”

“You did, Mr. Thor?”

“‘Course I did.”

“Can you show us how strong you are, Mr. Thor?  Please?”

“I’d love nothing more!  Come on over.”  The kid runs up and Thor picks him up with one hand, balancing him on his palm.  Then, he slowly starts to lift his arm above his head and the kid looks like he just won a lifetime supply of his favorite candy.

Thor puts the kid down and he runs back to sit with his friends.

“Show us some more!”

“You all want to see more displays of my feats of strength?”

“YES!!!!!”

Thor appeared to be thinking real hard, when he suddenly smiled and looked over at you.

“No.”

“My Lady…”

“Thor-”

“I’m sure Sergeant Barnes has no objections.”  Thor looked right at the camera, “Do you, Sergeant Barnes?”

“Thor, we’ve known each other for years and I’ve told you to call me Bucky”, says the voice behind the phone, but Thor just shrugs.  The camera pans to you.  “Come on doll, do it for the kids.”

“YAY MISS!!  DO IT!!!”

“Fine.”  The kids cheered loudly once more, and you went to stand next to your friend.  “How do you want to do this?”

“Get up here.”  Thor takes your hand and assists you in sitting on the table (a different one) behind him.  You shifted onto your side, and propped your head up on your hand. “Are you ready my lady?”

“Let’s do it.”

Thor went over to the end of the table and grabbed it.  The kids cheered as he slowly lifted the table with two hands.  Thor then maneuvered himself so he was standing under the table, holding it (and you) right above his head.

“Can you give a cheer for Thor everyone?” you called out to the crowd.  It was almost deafening with the yells and screams and claps, and you mentally thanked Tony for having soundproof walls installed at the library for you after several complaints about noise anytime any of the Avengers came to visit.

“Can you do it with one hand Mr. Thor?”

“Small child…I am Asgardian and the God of Thunder!”  Thor moved a hand to his waist, shifting the table to a single hand and then up onto his finger tips.

Bucky zoomed the video in then, focusing on your face when you looked over at him and smiled.  You smiled big and held up your hand with the sign for ‘I love you’.

That’s when the video stops.

“You know I’d never do that without your permission”, replied Wanda.  “You’re projecting nerves.”

“Oh…sorry.”  Bucky closes the photo gallery on his phone and looks at his background, another picture of you, this time it’s a picture from the NYE party Tony threw a few months ago: you’re wearing a party hat, oversized sunglasses, and a fake mustache (you spent so much time in the photo booth he got for the occasion).

“It’s not your fault.”  Wanda walks over to Bucky and takes a seat next to him.  “Like, I said, you’ve got nothing to worry about.  Everything is going to be okay.”

“I thought seein’ the future was Strange’s thing.”

“It is.  But while you are projecting nerves, she projects nothing but love…for you.”

Bucky can’t help but sniffle at Wanda’s observance.

“Here.”  She hands him a thick envelope with My Sergeant in your looping scrawl on the front.  “She says to not open the other envelope in there, it’s your gift but it’s not to be opened until before dinner.”

Bucky slips a finger under the flap of the envelope and pulls out the gift.

“I’m sure it’s o-”  Bucky looks at Wanda, his words dying in his mouth.  “Of course.  I promise I won’t open it.”  He tucks the smaller envelope in the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

A knock at the door has them both looking up to see Steve stick his head into the room.

“How’s it going in here, Buck?”

“I’m fine, punk.  Wanda was deliverin’ my girl’s letter.”

“Ah.  Well, I’ll let you be so you can read in private.  You’ve got about 45 minutes, by the way.”

“I need to be going as well.”  Wanda stood and smoothed out the wrinkles in the skirt of her steel blue tea length dress.  She placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, “Relax…and breathe.”

“Will do.  See you in a bit.”

Bucky waits until Wanda shuts the door to unfold the letter from you, and laughs.  The way you both wrote your letters says tons about each of you: while he used Avengers stationary with some random pen he found in the apartment, you used your fountain pen and fancy paper.

Settling back into the couch, he began to read.

My Darling…

I remember the first time I saw you.  From that first second, I wanted to get to know you, the real you, and not what the history books or the news programs and documentaries taught us.  It took some time, but eventually, well…look where we’re at.

I fought against the dark cloud in my brain for so long (still do sometimes).  I fought against sharing it all with you, because how could I?  My problems were nothing compared to yours.  How dare I complain that grandma didn’t love me when those people (if they even deserve being called that) did what they did to you for so many years.  But one day, after dad died, I broke down and told you everything.  Not once did you stop me and tell me to stop complaining and crying because others have it worse.  You made my feelings valid.  I fell in love with you because you loved me when I couldn’t love myself.  You became my family when I had none.

You would think someone with an English Literature degree would have so much more to say.  I just don’t know how else to tell you I love you.  How do I express that my heart feels so full every day and it’s all because of you?  Even on the days you’re being an asshole or I’m being a bitch (don’t shake your head because I know there are days).  

You even put up with me when that cloud comes back and plants nasty thoughts in my brain.  Do you know how many times I sat in our bedroom, waiting for you to come home and tell me you found someone prettier, thinner, smarter, more worthy of your time?  I thought I learned how to hide it, but you always knew.  You were patient and reassuring and reminded me why you loved me.

You are my everything.  My always.  I promise there will never be a time that I don’t love you.  You are my best friend, my rock, and the reason home is home.

Love,

Your Girl

                      “You find somebody you like and roll the dice.  

                                      That’s all anybody can do.”

                                                      -Ron

A few hours later.

“So.  How do you feel…Mrs. Barnes?”

“Completely and perfectly and incandescently happy.”

“That movie came out almost 20 years ago.”

“Your point?”

You and Bucky were just outside the reception, waiting to be introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes for the first time.  The ceremony had been beautiful; Thor walked you down the aisle and Sam got ordained especially for the occasion.  You cried, Bucky cried, Steve cried, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house when you read your vows to each other.  Tony wept like he was Albert in The Birdcage.  It was perfect.

“Have I told you how gorgeous you look, Mrs. Barnes?”

You pretended to think, tapping your chin.

“Don’t think so.  Not enough anyways.”

“Well, beautiful isn’t enough to describe ya.  Neither is gorgeous.”  Bucky steps back to give you a once over.  “I think I’ll go with ethereal.  Yeah. Ethereal.”

You pull him to you, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I love you so much.”  Leaning forward, you smile into the kiss, thinking how you don’t have to be on the tips of your toes when you kiss him today because of your heels.  They’re gorgeous, bright red, and you picked them out to honor one of your favorite singers.  However, you couldn’t wait to switch to comfy shoes after your first dance: Wanda and Nat had gifted you custom wedding Converse to change into.

You pull away from the kiss, and Bucky chases after you with his lips.

“Where you goin’ doll?”  You swipe your thumb over his lips to try and get rid of the bright red lipstick.

“Your gift!  It’s time to open it!”

In all honesty, Bucky had forgotten about the envelope in his jacket.  Once he’d seen you walking down the aisle, his brain had gone completely blank.

“Oh right.”  You step away from him and he reaches into his jacket.  Opening the envelope, he pulls out a picture.  He notices something written on the back:

Baby Barnes

Due: October 2023

Happy Halloween Daddy!

Saying nothing, Bucky slowly flips the picture over to see the sonogram of his child.  He still hasn’t said anything after a few minutes.  You’re worried, and about to say something when Nat appears.

“Are you two ready?  Scott’s about to announce you.”  She looks over at you and you’re trying to chew a nail off.  “Are you okay?”

“Um…I’m fine.”  You both look over at Bucky, who’s still staring at the sonogram.

“OH.  You told him.”  Bucky’s head shoots up in your direction.

“You knew?”

“I went with her to see the doc.”  Bucky tears his eyes from Nat and looks over at you.  “I’ll tell Scott to give you five.”  She disappeared into the ballroom, leaving you and your new husband alone.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky.  I didn’t know how you felt about all this.”  You back away from him, wringing your hands.  “The last few hours have been perfect, beyond so.  I’ll uh…I’ll call Andy after dinner and get everything taken care of.  It shouldn’t take too long to fix and we’ll be out of your hair.  I’ll be sure to tell Nat not to say anything.”

You move away and go to stand in front of the doors, praying that you can hold it together a few more hours.  You close your eyes and take a deep breath, as Bucky hurries over to you.

“Wait.  What are you talking about?  Why would you call Barber?  He’s just…a lawyer.”  Bucky looks at the picture and then back at you.  “Doll?”

“I love you but, you don’t want this.”  You put a hand over your middle.  “And that’s fine.  We never talked about it and we should’ve, so I’m sorry about that.  But I’m keeping th-”

Bucky sweeps you off your feet and spins you around, peppering your face with kisses.

“You can’t marry me and then tell me I’m going to be a father all in one day.  I think my brain broke for a second.  You know everything isn’t alright up there!”  He kisses you again.  “You’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be.”

“You mean that?”

“‘Course I do.”

“Good.  I didn’t want to have to divorce you that quickly.”

You’re both laughing when the doors to the ballroom open.

“And now, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes everyone!”

Bucky grabs your hand and pulls you in, hurrying to the middle of the dance floor where Scott stands with a mic.  Bucky takes it from him practically shoves him off the dance floor.

“Everyone quiet down!  I need to say something!”  He looks over at you for approval (which he realizes he should’ve gotten before saying anything).

“Go ahead”, you reply with a huge smile.

“WE’RE HAVING A BABY!”

A/N: Dividers made by @silkholland​

A/N 2: Story header made by me in Canva. Photos used in it are not mine (I got the Sebastian photos​ off of Pinterest and I used Google Images for the other two as well.)

[velvetcloxds]

A PUZZLE UNDONE | B.B.

Pairing: bucky barnes x plus sized!fem!reader

Word count: 1k+

Warnings: negative body talk, mentions of dieting and working out

Summary: how pointless the deeds of this body you’d been gifted if it doomed you to a life you wish would pass

A/n: this is selfish, it's personal and raw, it's my thoughts disguised as fanfiction, do with it what you will <3

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“Sounds perfect,” you breathed, voice strained, far from the conversation as you heard Bucky talking on the other end of the phone, beaming about the night he had planned for you, excited to be back in town after his mission and you were excited too, had been for weeks now, but your body always had a way of stealing your joy.

“See you soon, doll,” Bucky noted, and you hummed in acknowledgment of his words, barely registering them as you were grateful that he accepted the wordless reply, beeping following his silence as you brought the phone down from your ear.

You were no stranger to the disgust that dipped into your lips as your eyes sifted over the reflection in the mirror, thoughts running wild, begging you to look away, to hide, begging you for a release of a sight you had no desire to be exposed to and so you looked away, always did, closing your eyes as you threw the phone onto the crumpled up dress that laid abandoned at the foot of the mirror.

It was futile, hiding from yourself, pretending you didn’t see what you wished weren’t there. Your fingers moved at their own accord, slipping over skin, dipping between folds as you gathered a handful of fat and pushed what you could into yourself, pretending it took it away, pretending it wasn’t there, but it was, it remained, no matter your attempts to rid yourself of it.

Was this what people saw? Was this why you were never enough? Because you had too much? Too much skin, too much fat, too much personality for a person that shouldn’t be greedy for attention? Too much love for a person who would only be used? It was all you saw when you looked in the mirror, surely, they saw it too. Saw how you tried to make yourself small to make up for being anything but.

You couldn’t tell what was right about the vision that haunted your mind like a ghost of your better self, wailing to be remembered, to be returned. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried, you’d tried it all to the point of losing yourself completely and then some, but it wasn’t enough. None of it was enough, not for you, not for anyone. No wonder the hatred seethed in the gazes and the distaste bubbled from their mouths, if they saw what you saw, then they had every right to be ashamed on your behalf. How can this be the body you’d been given? How could you have been picked to live your life so miserably when others got to be freed of the cages sat by curves you’d been told to love only to be mocked for trying to do so?

Love? You had love to spare, and what you’d give to share it. Share it? With who? Who’d look at these pieces that formed a puzzle so horrid that you’d hidden the picture to build it. Leave it undone, that’s what you’re supposed to be. Forever longing for a body that was not your own. Being lectured on the things it does for you- it carries you, bleeds life into you, forces your heart to sing, how dare you hate it? Because no one knows, no one wants to hear words spewed out of utter loneliness and suffocating sadness, hating yourself so vividly that the very body you despised ached. Their hatred was valid, yours was selfish- you chose this.

Did you? Would it hurt this much to look into the mirror if you wanted this? Who’d want this? Who’d want to live if this was what it was, hunger from withholding yourself of anything that might add another puzzle piece, working your body towards a longing for unconsciousness because it was good for you, replacing meals with water and cravings with fasting because you must lose the pieces. Lose the pieces, don’t pick them up. If you were anyone else, they would be worried, if you were anyone else they’d tell you how you were harming your body but you’re you and you’re too much and there was no harm in a little torture when the result would be perfection. You don’t want perfection, you want acceptance, not from them, screw them- from you. You wanted your mind to be good to you, treat you with the kindness it handed out so freely to anyone else. Where was your kindness? When you were crying in the bathroom after eating before you should? When you were trying on dresses for his birthday, hoping one would make him see past what you saw? When you were sat alone at a table while the ballroom danced? Where was that kindness then?

Would this be your forever? Tears shed in secret, hunger painted as the enemy, clothes aimed to hide your body from your own prying eyes? If this was all you had then surely it was better not to have anything. How pointless the deeds of this body you’d been gifted if it doomed you to a life you wish would pass.

You were numb by the time Bucky had stumbled into the bathroom, accustomed to the sight of you in your underwear, to the bitter tears that littered your wet cheeks, to the hands that prodded at yourself in an attempt to seem less, to the way you tortured yourself with a gaze of hatred that scanned the mirror.

“Sweetheart,” he began, and you exhaled, your body nearly crumbling from the notion as his arms surrounded you, pulled you into him, onto him, as close to him as the matters of physics allowed. “That’s enough,” he breathed, and you were sure you gasped, nimble hands wanting to push him away, empty words trying to force him to leave, free him of the selfish need that you had for him, but he never paid you any mind. He saw you, all of you, he saw the puzzle as it laid before him undone, ripped at the seams, scorched and hammered, destroyed from the inside out.

He saw, and he never looked away, even when you did.

all fandoms taglist :@scandalous-chaos @oliverwoodmarrymepls @the-blue-forest

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[bucky-bucket-barnes]

and then there were none

Summary: It had been two months since Bucky and you broke off things. In a moment of heartache and weakness, he couldn’t help but call you just to hear your voice again. You spend the night trying to patch up what happened between you two.

Pairing: bucky barnes x female!reader

Warnings: lots of angst, intense love confessions, insecure Bucky, some fluff, and swearing

Word Count: 3.4k

Italicized sections indicate flashbacks.

~

The bed was more unforgiving than usual. Your side was still neatly made, Bucky never dared rolled over onto it, scared to corrupt what traces of you that remained. Sometimes he’d rest his head close to your pillow, though. If he tried hard enough, he could still get a small waft of the sweet scent that still lingered. Lavender. It was the detergent you used when you lived together. Funnily enough, while you were there he never made much note of it. Now that you were gone, he picked up on every little detail.

The day you walked out, he couldn’t bring himself to move anything. Your toothbrush still resided next to his in the bathroom. The books you’d bought recently still remained neatly in the cabinet where you’d left them, slowly collecting dust. Even when he came home, out of habit he’d still call out your name, occasionally looking around for you until he realized. Nothing but a forlorn echo would respond, informing Bucky he was alone. Again.

Bucky’s tired eyes lingered over to the clock to see it mockingly flash a bright 3:21 A.M. A deep sigh escaped from his chest as he stared at the ceiling. Impatiently he awaited sleep to consume him again. Time passed and his eyes refused to remain shut. He couldn’t stop thinking about everything.

He couldn’t help himself any longer. He sat up and reached for his phone. Without a second thought, instinctually his hand began to dial your number. Bucky didn’t know if you were up. He didn’t know if you would answer. He wasn’t sure if you’d even want to talk. But he had to try, right?

You were awakened by a buzzing noise on your night stand. Groggily, you turned over to grope around for your phone until your hand located it. In an attempt to read who was calling, your eyes were met with an aggressively bright screen. With a groan, you answered the phone. It must be important if someone is calling this late.

“Hello?”

Bucky could feel his body shuddering. He still couldn’t decide if he was glad you picked up the phone or not. He wasn’t sure if this was really happening, honestly. Perhaps this was a dream or some idealization he had concocted to cope with his return to solitude.

“Hello?” your voice asked again, ready to hang up.

No, not a dream. This was all too real. If he were dreaming, he wouldn’t have called. Instead, he could have simply rolled over to wrap an arm around you and return to slumber.

“Hey,” he mumbled softly, still astounded by the sound of your sleepy voice. He didn’t realize how much he missed your tone until he got to hear it again.

“Oh, Buck, hey. . . is everything alright?” You were taken aback by the sudden call from Bucky. You two were never official, but you had shared a very intimate relationship with one another.

“I don’t know,” he answered, more honestly than he’d intended. He felt panic and insecurity setting in. I shouldn’t have called. She hates me, this was a mistake. “I’m sorry, I probably woke you up over nothing.” He couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye with weak hopes you’d want to stay on the line.

“Did you have a nightmare again?” Bucky melted as you spoke. Your voice created such a tender melody that wrapped around him in the darkness. For a moment, he wasn’t alone. Only a moment, though.

He cleared his throat in a vain attempt to rid of the gruffness and fatigue that plagued his voice. “Something like that.”

You sat up on your bed now, preparing yourself for a full on conversation. I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be entertaining him. Pathetically you searched for the strength to hang up, to tell him he shouldn’t have called, but it never manifested. As badly as you didn’t want to want him, you missed him. A beat passed.

“Want to go for a drive?” His sudden proposal shocked both of you alike. You sat there in a stunned silence, internally battling with yourself.

“Yeah.”

Damnit.

“I’ll see you in five.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

You clicked the hang up button absentmindedly before you let out a quiet fuck. The day you left, that was supposed to be it. Bucky was a good guy, but you didn’t want the same things. You both decided it was best to go your separate ways. There was no yelling, no tears, no indication of anything emotion past neutrality; it just made things easier.

You’d only packed the essentials back into your bag. There wasn’t much as Bucky and you had only lived together on and off for roughly two months. Certain items you chose to leave. It hurt too much to take your toothbrush home, so you opted to buy a new one when you got back. It was the small details that made the weight of what was happening too real. If I take the toothbrush, then I won’t have anything to use when I stay over. Except, there won’t be anymore staying over.

Both of you exchanged insincere promises, affirming you’d call each other, that this hiccup wouldn’t get in the way of the friendship you previously shared. As meaningless words bounced back between the two of you, internally you both knew it wouldn’t be the same. As Bucky placed your suitcase in your trunk, you two pondered for a moment. Your hands were grasped firmly around the steering wheel as he stared down at you from the outside of the car.

He swallowed hard. Bucky wasn’t sure what to say, but he knew he needed to say something, anything. As you exchanged final goodbyes, he took a brief moment to study your face one last time. He knew he’d see you again, but not like this. He studied your cheek, the ones he used to caress his coarse fingers against. He admired your knuckles, now slowly turning white from grasping the wheel so hard, the ones he’d trace his hands over. He took a mental picture of the forehead he used to dote on, decorating it with gentle kisses whenever he could steal the time to.

“Buck?” you spoke out, noticing his eyes glazing over as he watched you prepare to pull out of the driveway.

“Yeah, doll?” He winced. No more doll. No more you. Just, no more.

“Take care of yourself.”

“Of course. Same to you.” He let out a weak smile. As you drove off back to your place, he cursed himself. All those moments of intimacy and vulnerability, all of that to be boiled down to anticlimactic goodbye. As you continued on the road, he could feel heat rising in his throat and his chest feel weighted.

I’m a damn fool.

But it was for the best. At least, that’s what Bucky told himself the day you parted ways. Now here you were, waiting impatiently on your couch for Bucky to knock at your door. You quickly changed out of your pajamas to more public appropriate attire before you heard a soft knock at the door.

Taking a breath in, you opened the door and greeted the sleepy soldier with a smile. “Hi, Buck.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Where to?” you asked, following him to his car.

“I heard the park is nice this time of night.”

You nodded in agreement as he opened the door for you, allowing you to enter the car. It was a familiar sensation you hadn’t enjoyed in a while. He adjusted himself into his seat before pulling off into the night road.

A beat of unbearable silence passed between you, neither knowing what to say in the moment. Bucky had mapped out countless times what he’d say if he was given the chance, what he could do to make it right. You had practiced thousands of scenes where you told him about everything. How much you missed him, how much you hated him, how much you wanted it all back.

“How’s work?” he questioned, hoping to start some form of small talk.

“Work’s work,” you answered plainly, still processing all that was happening. “You?”

“I’m on hiatus right now.”

“Oh. Since when?” When you lived together, he spoke of going on a break for a while, but you didn’t expect it to be so soon.

Since we broke up. Two months. I can’t stop thinking about you.

“You know, just a week or so. Nothing permanent, I just need time to figure stuff out.”

The rest of the ride, you sat in silence, being lulled by the muffled sounds of the occasional car passing by. Neither of you really knew what was happening or what you wanted at that moment. Closure, perhaps? It all felt so fuzzy, like trying to see through a cloudy fish bowl. Slowly, Bucky’s car came to a halt and you two hopped out of the car, approaching a nearby streetlight to stand under. The location offered a wonderful view to a small lake, reflecting the light of the moon and street lamps alike off its glossy surface.

You both stared out at the body of water, taking everything in. The last time you’d been there you went on a date, your last one. In an odd way, it felt like the proper place to have a conversation about what happened.

“Doll, c’mon it’s not the cold,” Bucky laughed in your direction.

“Bucky, I’m fucking freezing,” you chattered, only ankle deep within the lake water. It was a gorgeous, sunny day. One of the first of the season and Bucky had insisted on taking you to the park. A few feet ahead of you he stood, jeans rolled up and almost knee deep in the water.

As you pouted there, arms crossed and grumpily complaining, he let out a light chuckle. In an attempt to offer you some encouragement, he reached out his palm to you and approached. Hesitantly, you walked towards him, slowly sinking deeper into the water.

“How are you not cold,” you laughed, shocked from the cold sending itself up your veins, shaking your whole body.

“Your smile is as bright as a thousand suns, doll.”

“Shut up.”

“You adore me.”

“I do,” you gave in, grinning as your grasp tightened around his hands. Now you both stood knee deep in the water, admiring the view.

As you two held hands, you felt a sense of urgency come over you.“Bucky, I love you.” The words tumbled out of your mouth sloppily. You didn’t intend on saying them, they just came flying out. Doesn’t that make them all the more sincere, though? You weren’t a hundred percent sure you had even said them yourself until Bucky turned to look at you.

His words got caught in his throat. He didn’t know what to say back. No labels were ever put on what you had, but it definitely something special, something romantic. His eyes traced your features, searching for any signs of jest or sarcasm.

He felt his stomach drop when he registered your sincerity.

I’ve deceived you into thinking I’m someone I’m not.

You don’t want this.

You don’t want me.

Damnit.

I’m sorry.

He shifted his entire body to look at you now. Your heart rate picked up as the seconds passed, terrified he didn’t feel the same. His facial expression was unreadable, try as you might have, you couldn’t gauge how he was feeling.

“I-. . . I don’t think you want that.” Those were the words he landed on.

“I’m sorry, what?” You still couldn’t tell whether he felt the same or not. I mean, it wouldn’t be foolish to assume he liked you back. You’d lived together for nearly two months, shared the same bed, kissed every inch of the other, comforted the other when nightmares struck in the middle of the night. If that wasn’t love, what was?

“Doll- Y/N. I really like you and I really like this, but you don’t want my mess. I’m sorry, I can’t. I want to more than anything, but I can’t.” Words were panickedly flying out. He so desperately wanted you to understand why he felt he couldn’t pursue a real relationship, but he felt like an ass attempting to explain himself.

“So you can take me out on dates, have sex with me, and all the other stuff that comes with a relationship, but we can’t be in a relationship?” You could feel your throat sting as emotions came rushing out.

“It’s not that simple,” he tried to ration, cupping his hand around your face.

“I think it is, Bucky. If we can’t do this for real, we can’t do this at all.” You brushed his tender hands off your face, hurt. You loved him, but there came a time to put your foot down. No one got to use you at their convenience, not even Bucky.

“I can’t make you understand.”

“Try me.”

“What if he’s still in there?” His voice was low and solemn. The only indication that he might cry was the small crack it let out when he said ‘he’.

You were taken back by his sudden emotion. Bucky and you were close, but he never was one to easily crack. But now, there he stood, ready to collapse from shame and guilt. You contemplated arguing with him or comforting him in a warm embrace.

“I think I should leave.” You did neither. You calmly spoke. You decided this was the rational decision. It was fun while it lasted, great even, but now the time had come. You both knew this would happen eventually, it was all a matter of when. Foolishly, you both had pushed the notion aside.

Now there Bucky and you stood, realizing this was it. Realizing there was a reason you never got to move in officially. Realizing there was a reason you didn’t place a label on your relationship. Realizing you both saw the end as it all began. It was a dreadful thing, to sense a tragedy and still play into the story. What else was there to do? You two were supposed to be different, this bond was supposed to be unbreakable. It wasn’t though. Insecurity had crawled its way into Bucky’s mind again and severed the chains that held you together.

Bucky didn’t want to feel like a burden anymore. He was tired of the nightmares. The ones that involved your screams at the Winter Soldier’s hands. His hands. He hated himself more than he ever had around you. He loved himself more than he thought he could because of you. But now it was time to let go, because that’s what people in love do, right? Even if it hurts and claws away as your heart screams, pleads for you to stop, you let the girl go. Because then it’s impossible for you to hurt her. Because you couldn’t give her the universe she deserved to hold in the palms of her hands. Because the next best thing was to give her a chance at a normal relationship. Because all you brought was suffering. Because you love her, you say goodbye.

Please don’t go.

Not again.

I need you.

I want to be able to love you like you deserve.

I want this.

I want you.

I’m sorry.

“Okay,” he swallowed, a man defeated by his own self-sabotage. He contemplated pleading or maybe even breaking down crying right there, but that wouldn’t be fair. He should have cut it off sooner. He couldn’t fathom the fact that someone could love him so he never pursued breaking it off. There he was, letting go the one person he was sure who’d ever really love him for him. It felt like his chest was splitting open from the outside, shattering each piece of him.

The same night, you quietly packed and left. You promised to be friends, to keep in contact. You knew it wasn’t personal, but damnit if it didn’t hurt. Bucky swore that he’d never let anyone in again that night. That way, he couldn’t hurt any else. Ever. Not that anyone else could compare.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke, still keeping his focus on the lake in front of you both.

“For what?” you responded, turning to look at his side profile.

“Everything. I was selfish and I should’ve-”

“You’re forgiven,” you interjected softly. “It wasn’t you, it wasn’t me, it was circumstance, Bucky. I won’t blame you for that.”

Bucky somehow felt worse after that. You were so understanding of him, you never held his past against him. His head drooped down as he collected his thoughts. He felt like he was drowning in his own consciousness again, sucked in a whirlwind of doubt.

“Can I ask why you brought me out here? The view of the lake is nice, but I want the real reason.”

He turned to look at you. “I just wanted to see you.” At that moment, he could sink into himself. He’d crumble into you if you’d let him.

“Bucky, we can’t do this. . .” you trailed off. You wanted to see him just as much as he wanted to see you, but it stung. It reopened wounds you convinced yourself had healed. Just standing here gave the hopeless illusion that everything could go back to the way it was.

“I love you,” he announced loudly, blue eyes wide with passion and pleading.

“Don’t say that. Please, don’t say that now,” you returned with a pained expression. Don’t make this harder.

“You don’t have to say it back.”

“Bucky-”

“I’ll wait until you want me back,” his hands had travelled their way to your hands, lightly wrapping around yours as he professed further.

“Bucky, I’m serious.”

“I’m serious too. I’ll wait. I’ll wait a week, a month, a year. I’ll wait until my hair goes grey and my eyesight fails. I’ll wait until the world floods and the stars burn out. I’ll wait from six feet under ground, I don’t care how long it takes, I’ll wait for you.”

“What if I don’t want this anymore?” you snapped, anger overcoming you for a second. He couldn’t do this again, you shouldn’t have to put up with the heartbreak again. This night was supposed to be a true goodbye, the final bow. It now appeared this was only Act II of this lover’s tragedy.

“I’ll wait for another lifetime to come by then. I’ll wait as long as there’s a sliver of a chance that you want me too. I’m well acquainted with self doubt ruining relationships. But I’m sorry.” He never raised his voice to meet your frustration, but instead remained sincere in his expression. If this was the last time he got to say how much you meant, he’d make it worth it.

“Give me another chance and I’ll be the best damned man you ever had. I’m so fucking tired of pretending I don’t need you. You make every place light up and, Doll, right now I’m missing my sun. If you let me, I’ll make you the happiest girl in the world.” He spoke passionately with the courage he wished he could’ve found months ago.

“You promise me,” you said, tears threatening to pool in your eyes. “I love you, but promise me, damnit.”

“I swear on my life I’m here to stay,” he affirmed, gently placing his flesh hand on your cheek, thumbing an escaped tear off your face.

You sniffled and let out a smile, gently placing your hand atop of his. The simple pleasure of feeling him again was a gift in itself. Bucky’s arms travelled their way down to your waist and pulled you in for a tender kiss. His lips lingered on your skin for a moment, hoping he’d never have to part from you again; nothing felt as divine as you. It was a soft kiss, working slow and lovingly in its motion. Your fingers found their way to Bucky’s hair, slowly running through the soft locks as you continued.

He was never going to say goodbye to you again. Ever.

~

A/N: All likes, reblogs, and comments are super appreciated and loved! This is a piece I wrote while working on something longer (enemies to lovers is hard to write for no reason, y’all, but it’s going to be good). Have a lovely day and thank you for reading, loves!

My masterlist.

Taglist (open): @itscheybaby

[just-give-stucky]

Tw: body dysmorphia

Something that really bothers me is when people say Bucky “put on weight” in Civil War.

Just for reference here’s a side by side of Bucky in ca:tws and in ca:cw

I mean there is basically no difference. Sebastian Stan has been pretty upfront with having issues with body dysmorphia and comments like that will obviously make it worse. I mean everyone knows about the impossible body standards that are put on women, I wish people would recognize that this also effects men. Like in order to get this shot

Chris Evans had to be incredibly dehydrated. Also they had him wear shirts that were so small they physically hurt him. Maybe I’m just over sensitive about this because I have issues with body dysmorphia as well

[sparklefics]

Never Go To Bed Angry

Your prompt: Person A and B break up, but they have a pet and neither of them want to give it up. Then they spend a few days each with the pet separately. But it kinda helps them get together again.

Prompt: Person A and B are verbally fighting. B yells at A "Fine, if you don't like it then take what's yours and LEAVE!" Then they (A) picks up B and carries them out the door with them.

ANGST with a happy ending

Insecure!Bucky X Avenger!F!Reader

A/N: I combined these two prompts. It was hard to write this one. This is 100% based on a fight I had with my best friend.

The tension in the room is palpable. After having dinner with the team you and Bucky headed back to your room in complete silence. Bucky has been giving you the silent treatment and you don't know why. He grabs his pillow from the bed and the blanket from the couch and settles himself on the floor at the foot of the bed.

You huff out in annoyance. Why the hell is he being so distant?

It makes you wonder what you did to make him feel this way. Why does he feel the need to physically distance himself from you? You hate it, you absolutely hate the feeling of a wall being put up. Most importantly it breaks your heart being on the other side of the wall. Bucky radiates anger, which you've come to recognize as a side effect of him being hurt.

You crawl into bed feeling so confused about what's going on with your boyfriend, you are ready to cuddle up with your precious cat when she scurries off the bed. Alpine goes to Bucky purring for some cuddles. That traitorous cat!

You toss and turn in bed, never getting comfortable. You cannot sleep without Bucky, and you refuse to break the only rule in your relationship: never go to bed angry.

"Bucky?" You whisper in hopes he hasn't fallen asleep yet.

"Hm."

"Can you come up here? Please?"

Silence.

"Bucky...what's our rule?"

He sighs, "Never go to bed angry."

"Please, let's not break that rule. Come here," you insist as you peek your head over the foot of the bed to see Bucky turn his back on you. You feel your stomach turn.

"No one is breaking that rule." He says over his shoulder.

"James Buchanan Barnes, you have never been able to lie to me."

"I'm not in bed. I'm not angry either. I'll give you Alpine back if you just drop it."

You give up and settle yourself back to your spot. You curl up into the comforter and feel yourself lose control over your emotions. Silent tears spill down your cheeks. You feel Alpine jump on the mattress, soon she's all up in your face licking your tears. You close your eyes and try to sleep, but you can't sleep when you feel this distance between you and Bucky. "Please, talk to me."

"Y/N, you know what you did."

Bucky only calls you by your name when you're out on the field, when you're home it's always some term of endearment. "So you are angry! Is this because of what Tony said at dinner?"

"It's about what you said about me."

You don't understand. All you did was defend your boyfriend when Tony made some insensitive remark about Bucky. "Bucky, I'm on your side."

"I don't want to fight but we're just not seeing eye to eye on this so…"

He wants an out? "Fine! Then why don't you just take what's yours and leave!"

Bucky immediately gets up off the floor and grabs Alpine from your lap. "If that's what you want…" He also picks you up off the bed and throws you over his shoulder and takes you back to his room.

"Bucky…" You try to speak when he lays you down on his bed.

"I'm not mad at you." He hands you a mewling Alpine. "I'm just frustrated…"

"Why?"

"You think too highly of me."

You pull him down to sit with you on the bed. "I get it, it might be uncomfortable for you, but you don't get to decide what other people think of you and contrary to Tony's opinion you are not a broken man."

"It's not Tony's comment that made me upset. It's the fact that you had to stand up for me. It makes me wonder if maybe you-you deserve better. That is all. You deserve an uncomplicated man, one who you don't have to make excuses for. You shouldn't have to justify your affections for anyone."

You grab his face in both your hands, "Bucky, you are the man that I want. You are the man that I love, uncomplicated or not, you are mine."

His eyes burn into yours, brimmed with unshed tears. "I love you. I'm sorry if I made you doubt that tonight."

You hug him to your chest. "Come here," You curl up together in bed, Alpine lies between you two.

Bucky extends his arm, his hand curling in the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss. His lips glide over yours, his tongue laps at your bottom lip until you open up for him. He sucks on your bottom lip and gently nips at it, his beard is past the prickly phase so it actually feels soft on your delicate skin. You sink your hands into his hair, it curls around the back of his neck, it's at that middle length where it's not short but it's not super long either. He trails a path of kisses along your cheek to your neck.

"Thank you for not giving up on me, Doll." Bucky whispers as he buries his face in the crook of your neck inhaling your scent.

"I'm just here for Alpine." You tease.

"You're just jealous she likes me more than you." Bucky says as he playfully bites your neck and runs his hand over Alpine's white fur.

[softlymellow]

flaws -- B.B

pairing: Bucky Barnes x ! insecure reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: angst and talk about body image, insecurities and a persons flaws. 

summary: reader compares herself to Natasha as she see’s her and Bucky getting close. She think’s he doesn’t have feelings for her due to her not being perfect and because of her flaws but Bucky reassures her it’s not. 

note: i hope this imagine isn’t taken this wrong way as me trying to romanticise someones insecurities. if i did please dm me or let me know so i can help fix it!! i promise i wasn’t trying to make anyone feel bad or anything and EVERYONE IS SO BEAUTIFUL IN ALL SHAPES AND FORMS and everybody is insecure about something and that’s completely normal but you are loved and you are perfect and you don’t need a man ( or girl! ) to tell you that. hope you guys enjoyyy

You loved being the reason he smiled or laughed.

 Not that he would do it often, his face masked from the trauma he experienced. But when you were the reason he was happy, it gave you almost a sense of pride, but it was taken away from you.

There she was, Natasha Romanoff. 

Her incredible orange hair that sat on her shoulders was eye-catching, her glowing skin and her full scarlet lips complimented her appearance tremendously. 

You couldn't blame her. She was everything you couldn't be and everything you should be. Yet, the lump that rested in the back of your throat was difficult to ignore as you watched Bucky and Natasha interact with each other. A genuine laugh arose from the male, yet you could only wish you were the reason he laughed.

It wasn't as if you weren't friends with him. Hell, it seemed like a lot more to you. Maybe only to you.

You pulled your knees to your chest and hugged them tightly, watching the pair chatter among each other near the dining table as you reside in the comfort of the couch across from them.

Steve sat beside you, busy fixating himself on his new cellphone and playing around with the features.

You drew small circles on your knee to comfort yourself, ignoring the voice that was calling out to you.

"Y/n!" Your head snapped to your right, looking at a semi-concerned Steve. "Almost lost you there," He chuckled while you rubbed your eyes, gaining your full attention.

"How do you change the ringtone?" He innocently asked, poking his phone.

"Just go to settings and search it up." You told him, relocating your gaze to the pair. Steve hummed as he did what you instructed him. You sat quietly before you began to chew on your fingernails, thinking of every possible explanation on why Bucky would choose Natasha over you.

It almost felt as if you were being toyed with, one minute you'd be two peas in a pod, often being teased as one of the only people Bucky began to get close to other than Steve. On the other, he'd be flaunting off to every girl he would see.

"You know you should stop staring before you make it obvious," Steve whispered next to you,  jumping at the sudden break in thought and looking over to a smirking man.

"Steve," You hissed, glaring at him, "before making what obvious?" You innocently asked, attempting to cover up the embarrassment you felt.

Steve shot you a knowing look and you felt your cheeks flare-up, "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," Steve responded with a smug expression. You rolled your eyes jokingly before turning your attention to Bucky.

"You should give it a shot, yknow," Steve whispered.

You shook your head 'no', snapping your gaze to Steve, "Trust me," He said in a hushed tone. Looking back to Natasha, you couldn't help the sickening feeling as you watched the pair flirt with each other.

"What would he see in me that he wouldn't in Nat," You mumbled under your breath, not intending for Steve to hear.

"You wouldn't know," Steve cleared his throat, poking at his phone with a pleased look on his face. You tilted your head as you narrowed your eyes at him. Getting up from the couch, you had decided to leave to wallow in your sadness.

You made your way past the pair and you heard the silence that fell among them, their gaze darting holes in your back as you walked away from the room.

Ignoring the distant mumbling behind you, you made your way towards your bedroom. Locking the door behind you, you hadn't bothered to turn the lights on. You dropped on your bed as you felt a swarm of emotions hit you. Once mostly consisting of jealousy.

You took out your phone and headed straight to Instagram. You scrolled through for what could only be interpreted as hours before you paused on a single post that lied on your feed.

It was a picture of Natasha that was posted only a few hours ago. It was taken during Tony's infamous parties last night, one that you had skipped out on due to feeling ill. She sat on a red velvet couch, and she wore a skin-tight black dress that sparkled in the light. She held a drink to her mouth as her red straightened hair fell over her eye. You had noticed that Bucky liked the picture, and you felt the tears brim your eyes. Your grip holding the phone as if your life depended on it suddenly faltered as it fell beside your head, briefly missing your face.

Getting up towards the large mirror that was framed on the closet door, you noticed every imperfection on your figure. Your hands travelled to your shirt as you pulled it off your body, leaving you only in your bra and your negative thoughts.

Your eyes wandered to every flaw, the extra fat and skin on your stomach. The way your body wasn't the perfect hourglass figure. Your fingers traced over your stretch marks that lied on your hips, feeling the slight dent in your skin. Tears began to fall down your face. Your flabby arms and that your breasts wasn't the ideal type.

Sitting on the ground in front of your mirror, you hugged your legs tightly against your chest as you sobbed.

You couldn't fit the standards that were made. The more you looked and the more you scrolled, just end up bringing newfound insecurities. That was a problem you had faced many times during your life and you began to doubt yourself. You would rather be anybody else, feeling unfit in your own body, one that was especially for you. All you saw was what you should be. A happier person, a prettier girl, and a stronger Avenger.

You threw your shirt back on, making your way towards your bed. Lying your head down, you allowed yourself to think about nothing. Empty thoughts. Thoughts that had no meaning and brought you no use.

A knock on the door brought you back to your reality. Getting up, you brushed away the tears that stained your cheeks as you sniffed. Suddenly feeling exposed, you pulled your sleeves down to hide your arms before opening the door.

Your eyes widened as you saw a concerned Bucky waiting outside. His eyebrows furrowed upon seeing your puffy eyes and your red cheeks.

"Can I come in?" He politely asked, his eyes watching every move you made. You nodded, not trusting your voice.

You stood aside, allowing Bucky to slip into your room as you shut the door behind him.

You leaned against the door, your arms crossed against your chest as you waited for him to say something.

He sighed, not knowing where to start, his hands ruffling his hair. "Are you avoiding me?" He obliviously asked. You could almost laugh at how stupid of a question it was.

Your lips could only quiver as you attempted to respond to him. "What?"

"Doll, I don't know if I did something wrong, but you seemed pretty upset back there." He tilted his head and pressed his lips together.

You shook your head as you bit the insides of your mouth, "No, no, it was nothing." You muttered as you sat on your bed, staring at your palms.

"Doll, I know you well enough to know when something is wrong." He shot you a small smile.

"Do you like her?" You instantly regretted saying that, your insecurities creeping in again.

Bucky was taken back by the sudden question, his eyebrows raised in confusion. "Who?"

"Natasha."

"What, no. Where'd you hear that from?" He enquired.

You looked up at Bucky, tears glossing over your vision. "I've seen the way you look at her, Buck."

"No, Y/n. I've never liked her."

"You don't have to lie for me. I mean, what's there not to like. She has the perfect body, face and hair and-" You were interrupted by his sudden grasp on your hands.  

"And you don't have those things?"

"I-I don't." You whispered.

"That's a lie, and you know it." His firm voice alarmed you as if you somehow offended him.

You got up and kept strong eye contact with him. "What are you trying to say, Bucky? Have you seen me?" You scoffed and started to point and poke around your flaws.

"There's nothing wrong with your body, doll." He said in a calmer tone, realising you were insecure about your body image.

"Bucky, you can just stop faking it. Go back to Natasha." You muttered, sniffing as you looked down at your feet.

"I don't love Natasha, Y/n! I love you, doll. I always have." He confessed, slightly panting as he raised his voice.

You stood still, finding it difficult to believe in his words.

"I love you and every part of you." He took your hands in his and planted a small kiss onto your knuckles.

"Then what about-"

"Forget about her, doll. I tried to forget about you through her. Steve told me." He looked up to your eyes, watching your reaction.

You felt the heat creep onto your face as you realised he knows your feelings towards himself.

"Do you really?" You asked, hope in your eyes.

He nodded, still holding your hand and planting small kisses. His kisses travelled up towards your arms as you felt a swarm of butterflies swarm your insides.

"I love your arms," he left a trail of kisses as he went further up.

"Your shoulders," he mumbled against your skin, a tingling sensation was left after every kiss as you felt yourself biting your lip in admiration.

He made his way towards your neck, loving the way you tensed under his touch. "Your neck," he kissed behind your ear as you bit back a moan.

You tilted your head, allowing him to move further, his lips moving alongside your jaw. He finally reached your lips and caught your gaze on his. His lips were mere inches apart from yours, you felt his breath fan over yours.

"Your lips," he whispered, his mouth slowly reaching yours as they gently kissed. Your lips dancing over his, enjoying the moment. His lips were soft against yours and he kissed you as if you were fragile, something to not be tampered with.

He slowly let go of you, his forehead against yours. "I love everything about you, doll. Don't doubt that and don't compare yourself to other women. You're equally if not more beautiful than them." He whispered, pecking you on the cheek.

"You'll realise your worth, Y/n." He kissed you on the forehead.

You felt better after Bucky had come found you that night. Your insecurities didn't go away, instead, you found them as someone else's treasure. And that made you feel better.

-----

a/n: man that last part has me embarrassed. 

[fandomfluffandfuck]

"You feel better if you look better"

It's time for some 1940s Bucky (and stucky) insecurity theorizing(?)...

"You feel better if you look better," is a quote I've heard my entire life. The meaning is essentially, if you take pride in your appearance and put effort into making yourself look how to want to look you are way more likely to feel better about yourself. As opposed to not caring or thinking about what you look like and then throwing on whatever you have or maybe not showering, not brushing your teeth, or not getting haircuts, etc. (whatever hygiene/self care thing that comes to mind) then because of not doing those things, you think you don't like yourself, as opposed to realizing you're just not enjoying yourself as much as you could.

It crosses over heavily with the "dress for the job you want, not the job you have" idea in my head. All about self confidence and projection of who you are/who you want to be.

Anyway, I heard that quote again recently and instantly in my head I saw pre-war Bucky. I don’t know why. I just know I instantly saw Bucky, brown hair and pale gold skin, standing at the rusty, worn vanity in that tiny, original Brooklyn apartment they had together. Whistling a tune to himself, looking through a cracked mirror with flaking gold leaf edges (a hand-me-down from his Aunt) at his own reflection as he got ready to go out dancing on a Friday night. His heart thumping in his chest and his mouth practicing lazy, easy smiles with youth-plumped lips, soft from the vaseline he put on before bed last night.

And you know what I thought? What else I thought, other than Bucky combing his hair, practicing his lines, getting ready...

I thought about how we sometimes say in this fandom that Bucky accepted Steve post-serum so fast because now his outsides just match his insides and that he was happy (or he told himself he was happy) that now dames could see what he'd seen all along. Now that Steve's appearance matched his mind... maybe he'd get a gal to settle down with after the war (ignoring the strange heart break that Bucky felt even thinking that) and everything would be good. Him and his lady would have some blonde-haired, blue-eyed babies with cute crooked teeth and endearing lisps. Steve would paint in vivid, full color now they they fixed his eyes. He wouldn't instantly cough with the smell of paint thinner and sealant and have to crack the windows or face an asthma attack. His lady would cook mean dinners and would invite Bucky 'round for dinner, knowing Steve needs some companion other than his art and knowing that the kids love him so. Yeah. He'd get a gal... Life would be good. Steve would get what he deserved, not what other's handed off to him, bent and beat up from their own use. Second hand.

Steve would get what he deserved.

But do you ever think maybe Bucky dressed himself so nice, swaggering around and doing his hair just so with pomade, so, so charming all the time, mouth dripping in honey, because, yes, of course, it was part of social life/social performance at the time but also because he felt he couldn't ever be as golden as Steve was inside? He's gilded instead. Steve is a precious metal hidden in gritty dust, just needing a little shine. Bucky feels like he is dipped in gold and all dust and rock inside. The opposite. The moon to the sun. Lackluster once you have seen them both; the cold, shy moon always pales in comparison to the glorious flames and warmth of the sun.

Steve is so good and Bucky felt he wasn't so good, nowhere close, but, hey, he can dress well and talk well and distract himself from those feelings. He can distract everyone else from his short-comings with extra performance too.

And those feelings that get, oh, only about a million times worse after he returns from the shackles of death itself, from HYDRA, from being locked inside his own head, imprisoned and remade from the ashes of himself... only the same in vague outline. He returns quickly to the routine of grooming. Self-soothing in a way. And Steve sees Bucky being Bucky in these reforming patterns. So he is overjoyed with the new hair products cluttering their bathroom and the time Bucky spends in front of the mirror (nevermind the fact that when Bucky looks in the mirror he's seeing dark circles and pale skin and scars and the fragile amalgamation of a shattered, splintered man)...

Bucky eventually is able to indirectly admit these feelings and habits to his therapist. It is slowly and painfully dragged out of him, like wisdom teeth, broken into little peices and then still pried out with pliers because those feelings are stubborn, stuck in your jaw and aching. Part of your skeleton. You do not want to let them go.

After admittance, Bucky tries a new method of doing good for yourself to feel good about yourself that includes very similar routines but excludes the mirror. He doesn't often look at himself and he practices watching the way Steve looks at him rather than comparing himself to Steve's, well, everything. Because he is so... everything. So good at everything. Bucky can, maybe, be good at somethings too. He can learn.

(Psst, like this)

[meetmeinthefamilyvideo]

Love is in the air

Bucky Barnes x afab!Reader

Summary: in which your body betrays you in an unfortunate moment with your partner and you have an honest conversation about your bodies.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, queefing, p in v sex, talk about vaginas, flatulence talk, mentions of not so nice partners?, insecurities about bodies, so much fluff it’s even disgusting.

Word count: 673 short and sweet!

Notes: if you didn’t know, queefing is when a vagina releases a “flatulence” when air is trapped inside. It is a common occurrence in penetrative sex since air comes in and out. It is a SUPER common occurrence and i wanted to write about it to try and normalize it a little bit.

It was at this moment, that you wish for a meeting to be called that tells you an intergalactic threat is coming to kill you all…

“Fuck doll, i missed filling your tight little hole so much”

Face pressed to the pillows, ass up and hitting Bucky’s thighs as he thrusted into you. Your fingers grip the covers and your ears were filled with a mix of both of your moans and skin slapping skin, the two of you were insatiable having not seen each other in a few weeks due to missions.

“Bucky, please don’t stop I’m so close!” You exclaim grinding back against him harder than before.

“Right there with ya, gorgeous, you can let go” he gripped your hips tighter.

You both reached your highs and that’s when it happened. Bucky slided out of you soliciting groans from the both of you because of the sensitivity, you went to move and…

*pfffftt*

You froze, that wasn’t a fart. It came out of your vagina. YOU QUEEFED IN FRONT OF YOUR BOYFRIEND.

You close your eyes and wish to be swiftly killed as to avoid the embarrassment that includes facing your boyfriend after completely ruining a very sexy moment.

Bucky made his way towards you and tried to get your attention. You didn’t even realize this because you were so consumed in your thoughts until you heard him calling your name and taking your face in his hands.

“Doll are you ok?” Your boyfriend inquired.

“Baby, talk to me!”

He saw how you were flustered and ashamed so he tried to make you comfortable. He offered to pass you a shirt and he put on his boxers again. You two sat for a minute in silence until you broke it.

“I’m sorry that happened, I’m really embarrassed” you told him with pain in your eyes.

“What, that you farted? That’s fine remember when that happened to me that one time while you were giving me a lap dance?” He asked.

“I queefed, that sound came out of my vagina” you explained and Bucky got really worried.

“What? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he worriedly told you.

“No, no it happens when air gets trapped inside and they say it’s common during sex specially when it’s rough sex and it doesn’t hurt, but I didn’t know it would happen and I’m really sorry and…why are you smiling?” You were confused now, why isn’t he upset at you?

“You mean, this happened because I fucked you really really good? That’s freaking great I love queefs” he said proud of himself for no apparent reason.

“It doesn’t really work that way but fine, are you really not disgusted by me? Guys are usually pretty not into when that happens” you were reminded by your ex who would judge you for the smallest of things.

One time you queefed when with him and he demonized you for it until your relationship ended. Calling you nasty, implying you had something wrong with you and ultimately using it as an excuse for when you found out he had been cheating on you. The other girls weren’t dirty pigs like you.

“Oh baby, not at all. Your body reacted to something and it’s normal, besides if it means I’m a good sex-haver it’s awesome!” Still joking around to make you feel better about it, “If it’s not hurting your body then I don’t mind it at all baby, if anyone ever told you something about your body reacting naturally then they’re an idiot” he said tracing circles in your hand.

You hugged him and exchanged ‘I love you’s’ when he said,

“I’m not gonna lie it was pretty funny”

You punched him in the arm and started laughing uncontrollably. You both started recreating the sound it made and holding each other when you felt an air lifted around you, making you realize that a partner who loves you is someone who is there always, not only in the world-bending orgasms but also in the uncontrollable queefs.

[rainydaycafe]

Like Real People Do

Lawyer!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Original Female Character

Summary: James never thought about happiness too much, but stumbling into a bakery one evening promises to sweet his life in a new way with a bakery with a soft smile and kind words

Warnings: Well, James has a terrible relationship with his dad so jerk!dad alert, but other than that it’s sweet feelings and insecure!Bucky.

The dream of becoming an author, or even an editor at a nice publishing company was something Emilia had really banked on but eventually let go.

It had been her dream to have some physical representation of all of her thoughts and feelings. To have those be something people clung onto and enjoyed to read. Though, the older she got, the less she felt the pull towards that aspiration and the more she felt set on something else.

It was like an itch she could not quite ever scratch.

It was as though said itch had not been scratched since her dad had died when she was 15. The memories of her father teaching her to bake with such love and patience put through cupcakes, danishes, and just about anything he knew to bake. A thick recipe book in his handwriting was always open on the counter where he’d point and explain things to her, watching as she absorbed the information like a sponge.

But when he died, it was as though she couldn’t bear the thought of turning an oven on until her brother had taken her to grief counseling where it was okay to be sad, and it was okay to feel confused and all around lost about the loss of the person who made up half of her DNA suddenly being gone.

Nothing about your parents being gone is easy, and it never got easier but she got used to the dull hum she felt in her chest when she thought about him out of the blue. Most times she liked to believe that when that happened it was because he was thinking of her, too.

She did her time, and she got an undergraduate degree in English lit and she was proud of herself for reading endless amounts of Chaucer and analyzing countless poems from Keats but she needed more. She wanted more.

She wanted her dad to be somehow in her life, even if he was gone in all forms aside from her memories.

So she worked, and she worked hard as an editor for a small local publishing company in Colorado, but the days left her exhausted and the clients were less than kind.

However, she had gotten an idea in her head.

An idea that had been a fleeting thought that she hadn’t been able to let go of. It was always in the back of her mind, and she couldn’t quite let it go and chalk it up to a pipedream because it made her body thrum with excitement of the sheer potential of it all.

Which is how endless amounts of research and emails to leasing ads led her to Newburyport, Massachusetts one chilly morning receiving the key from the man selling with her brother, Blaine by her side.

After much deliberation, she had chosen to use the money her father had left for her to buy the bakery as well as get everything set up to have it up to par.

It was a two story brick building with the setup on the bottom meant for business while the second floor was an apartment which was wildly convenient. Overall, the place needed a bit of work in terms of getting it ready for business, but it was something she felt so proud and honored to have so she didn’t mind it at all.

The apartment was led up to by a flight of stairs in the back kitchen which led to the front door of her loft which was straight out of a dream.

With the coat closet directly to the right with a half restroom adjacent to the front door, the kitchen was directly to the left of the door. The kitchen was spacious and open, looking over the dining area where she had barstools set up facing the counter and a longer, light colored dining room table.

The table was before the living room area where Emilia had a sectional couch Blaine had insisted on buying her alongside the rug he insisted matched the entire feeling her home gave off. Blaine insisting on choosing the couch meant it was expensive, plush, and perfectly matched with the rug.

She and Blaine had set up the couch so it was facing the left wall with the TV mounted onto the wall after much struggle. Directly in front of the living room area was a large window where she had set up her desk where she found herself settling on long nights writing down bursts of ideas.

In the corner was a flight of stairs which led up to her loft bedroom, a dream she had only ever kept in the back of her mind but found fulfilled with the purchase of the building.

The stairs curved right where to the left was a nook Emilia had set up with short bookshelves and a couple of lovely love seats. To the right of the stairs was where she had her bedroom area, the headboard of her bed was pushed against the furthest left wall with a wardrobe against the far right wall.

To the left of her bed was an open closet area before it led into her restroom.

It had taken months and months to get everything right and to get it all to feel akin to home. Bookshelves here, record player underneath the stair area, and getting the little things fixed around such as having blankets in the right places and art hung on the right walls.

But after much work, it all felt like it was meant to be where it was and that’s all she had ever wanted.

_________________

James’ life was somber.

At least, that’s how he’d go about describing it if he were in need of providing an adjective to give a solid foundation regarding his life.

There was nothing particularly invigorating about his life, and he found himself feeling as though he were running on a monotonous treadmill that led him to feeling as though he were in a vicious cycle.

Sure he had a lot going for him at the age of 26, and he was well aware of that, but it wasn’t enough. It left him feeling empty after a long day but he couldn’t complain because in retrospect he was living an absolutely fulfilling and successful life.

An affluent upbringing with his powerful parents consisting of a litigator father who was a force to be reckoned with and a mother who was a well respected pediatric surgeon. Their life was more than comfortable and they oozed the upper class family feeling with every opportunity.

Their first and only son, James Buchanan Barnes, was their pride in joy as he excelled in lacrosse throughout his schooling, but was also academically gifted which the Royce Academy, a school which his parents dumped over $40,000 in tuition into, helped develop and turn him into a properly educated member of society.

They had the money, the status, the picture perfect life, but what else did they have?

Two successful parents meant two busy parents. Byron, his father, spent more time cooped up in his offices lining up this or that, or working up a case file. Victoria, his mother, practically lived at the hospital sometimes, though she was home more often, it wasn’t by much.

He had grown more than accustomed to spending evenings alone, and simply shrugging with a soft smile when other parents would ask about his own when they were missing from yet another varsity lacrosse game.

Eventually it came time to choose a major for his undergraduate degree and his father had led him into the study for a serious conversation.

When asked about his true interests, James knew better than to mention his appreciation for photography after his father had smashed his Canon AE-1 35mm after having received an A- on a chemistry midterm.

James had opted to tell him he wasn’t sure but he was debating between criminal law and business which earned a firm nod from his father.

His father wasn’t someone you argued with.

Byron continued on to tell James, “You will continue the family tradition and carry on the family legacy. You can come work with me at my firm or at another firm I approve of,” He told James who nodded and thanked him before heading up to his room.

He wished he could’ve said something, anything, but after years of getting his ass handed to him verbally and sometimes physically, he knew better than to test the waters with his father.

So he didn’t, and he shut his mouth and appreciated the fact that his father paid for his tuition, his housing, and other expenses without batting an eye for 6 years of school after high school.

Years of private school from preschool through high school went into breeding what Byron Barnes considered to be a mediocre man, at best.

James had managed to work hard enough to finish his undergrad degree in criminal law in three years after having successfully obtained enough dual enrollment credits in high school to have him enter as a sophomore during his freshman year of college.

Graduating from his father’s alma mater, Yale, by 21 and obtaining high marks on the LSAT meant he got his top choice of law school which was Columbia University’s law school where he passed the bar exam with flying colors.

By 24 he was working with Bryer’s and Barnes after his father had secured him a junior partner position before he could interview for one anywhere else.

He was too afraid to say no, so he took it.

So here he was, 26, successful, working for his father who was more domineering than ever but he was successful, all things considered.

He had a beautiful apartment with a beautiful view, a nice car, a well paid salary, expensive suits, nice shoes, and everything he could ever want.

But he felt empty and as though he were just going through the motions and attempting to avoid getting yelled at by his father at another faculty meeting in front of everyone. By this point he was certain his father got a deep sense of satisfaction from humiliating him in front of everyone when he got the chance.

It was early on that he had schooled his emotions around his father and he could take the verbal beating and nod before giving a smile to everyone else staring at him to let them know he was alright, and that it was all fine.

Most days he walked out of the office feeling defeated and as though he were on the verge of either crying or screaming, but he never did. He instead let himself memorize all of the flaws he had, and how they impacted his work and why he was such a disaster which led to his father acting how he did.

__________________

“This is garbage!” Walter yelled while standing from his mahogany desk, “Rewrite this, immediately, and have it on my desk by tomorrow afternoon. I will not be humiliated because you are handing in substandard work!” Slamming down the file, he gave James a disgusted look and James nodded before grabbing the file and heading out.

Ignoring the glances, he looked at the clock and felt elated because it was time to leave.

Heading into his office, he quickly collected his items and placed them into his satchel before saying goodbye to his assistant Miley and the receptionist, Lyra who had wished him a nice day.

Fishing out his keys after the elevator ride, he remembered he had parked down the street and around the corner because the parking lot had been closed for repaving and the closer parking spots along the sidewalk had been taken.

Walking, he forced himself to take deep breaths because he had worked so hard on forming the outline for his father’s most recent case and obtaining all of the information but it had still not been enough.

Nothing was ever enough, and he was sure that reflected on the way he saw himself as a person which was less than kind and more bad than good.

Crossing the street, he glanced into the shops he passed and smiled a bit at them before turning the corner and breathing a sigh of relief as he saw his car but as he reached his car, he looked up and saw a bookstore directly in front of where his car was parked, but to the right was something else.

The sign read Rainy Day Bakery which caught his attention.

He should get home, he should. He should work on redoing the argument but he had been craving something sweet so before he knew it he was crossing the street and looking into the place.

Pulling open the door, a bell chimed above his head and he looked around to see it was painted a very light yellow and it felt so cozy, and warm.

There were a few richly colored wooden tables around the sides and in the front had two large display cases side by side with the register to the right before a longer counter with a few stools there for seating.

Behind the front counter was a larger counter with other items such as an espresso machine but before he could see the rest, the double doors flew open and out came a woman holding a tray with both hands smiling at him.

He felt as though he were a huge goof because he was taken aback by the girl, but he tried to play it off.

But she didn’t say anything, she only smiled more when he returned the smile and she walked behind the display case where she filled the designated section with what seemed to be red velvet cupcakes.

James looked at his options but he couldn’t choose between the strawberry and cream cheese danish and the blueberry muffin.

“Let me just put this back in the kitchen and I’ll help you, okay?” She asked softly and James nodded mutely because she could have been the human embodiment of calm.

This entire place was the embodiment of calm, and it felt like a soft hug but when she returned he hadn’t chosen yet but he was starving.

“I- I can’t decide between the blueberry muffin and the danish,” He explained sheepishly and she smiled at him in understanding, “Well if it’s any consolation, they’re both delicious,”

James nodded and he knew he should be eating something that had protein because he had skipped lunch in favor of finishing the outline but he was too deep into this to leave.

Plus he didn’t want to leave because he wanted the girl behind the counter to smile at him forever but he quickly snapped himself out of it and opted for the Danish because he thought he was being annoying with all of this internalized debating.

“Wonderful choice…. Did you want a coffee to go alongside it?” She asked and James found himself nodding before asking for a vanilla cappuccino since he thought it’d compliment the danish well and she nodded dutifully.

She gestured with her hands as she told him to take a seat, but instead of sitting in the back corner as he would usually do anywhere else he sat himself in one of the stools alongside the counter and watched as she got everything together.

He didn’t know her name but he was sure it would be beautiful.

She wore a dark green knit sweater with a french tuck with a rose gold necklace, black jeans, and casual sneakers.

Did he blatantly stare at her ass when she turned around to the espresso machine? Yes, but he couldn’t help himself either.

Her chestnut brown hair was a bit below her shoulders in a half up half down way clipped in the back with a yellow clip. She was on the small side, shorter than him by quite a bit but he felt her sense of being was bigger than his.

Sooner than later, she walked over to him and placed his items in front of him, “I really hope you like them.” She told him sincerely and he found himself asking for her name because he needed to know, even if they never spoke again he just had to know.

“Emilia,” She told him, and it fit her so perfectly that when she asked him for hers he said, “James Buchanan Barnes,” instead of just James and he felt like such a fool-

“Oh, full names? Well then I am Emilia Mattea Pearson,” Emilia told him with a grin and he couldn’t help but grin back because he was stupid but she was as sweet as can be.

Looking down at the danish, he picked it up to take a bite and it was probably the most delicious thing to ever grace the Earth and when he looked up she was watching him with a small smile.

Swallowing, he wiped his mouth with a napkin, “That’s really delicious,” James told her, and the way she lit up…. Well he’d tell her everything she ever made was delicious if he were ever given the chance again.

She left him to eat, and he ate and sipped his coffee as he looked around and ignored the satchel on the seat next to him and all of the weight it left him with.

But before he knew, Emilia was returning with something else on a plate and she gently set it on the counter and slid it to him before explaining, “I figured you were hungry for something other than just a pastry considering you’re dressed so formally so I can only imagine you came here from an office-” She stopped herself and blushed, “Sorry, I’m rambling,”

Emilia flushed and this guy was so handsome and he had been so kind she couldn’t help herself but James shook his head.

“No, no. Don’t- thank you. I did come from work and I am hungry, but I couldn’t stop myself from coming here, you know? But don’t apologize for talking, I like it,” James told her and Emilia nodded, both of them looking at one another before James broke eye contact and looked at what she had brought him.

“It’s a turkey and cheese croissant,” She told him and James smiled for what felt like the hundredth time since he had come into this place, but he didn’t mind it all too much either.

Before long, he had finished his danish and coffee before tucking into his turkey and cheese croissant which didn’t last long either. He ate while watching Emilia who walked back and into the back kitchen and came out, wiped down counters, and did things while there was music playing in the background softly.

She let him eat in silence without bothering him, but when she saw he was done she quickly collected his dishes and thanked him for eating there but he told her the pleasure was all his.

Standing, he collected his satchel and slung it over his shoulder, noting how the memory of his father bearing down on him about his work made it feel heavier, but he ignored it in favor of retrieving his wallet and meeting Emilia in front of the register.

Paying, he handed her a $20 bill and dumped the change into the tip jar with a shrug, “It’s the least I can do for such a lovely pre-dinner meal,” James told her and Emilia handed him his receipt with a soft smile

Her smile shouldn’t be that welcoming, but it was.

Everything about her was welcoming and James found himself wanting to run directly into it after having met her only an hour before, but he couldn’t help himself. She was something else entirely.

But this was something he couldn’t risk, he couldn’t risk ruining things and leaving her damaged because he was damaged goods and not worth the effort.

Readjusting his bag, he nodded to her before saying, “Bye, Emilia. Thank you,” Though her words felt heavy on his tongue, Emilia nodded, “Thank you, James. I hope you come by again?” She spoke as more of a question at the end of her sentence and though he knew he should stay away and stop himself from becoming attached he found himself nodding.

“Of course. I’ll be back… Maybe tomorrow? Uh- it’s Friday and I get off early so I can come by tomorrow for lunch if that’s okay,” He stuttered out.

“That would be great. I’ll have new items tomorrow, I promise,”

One final glance at her and he bid her goodbye once more at the door before leaving, not noticing the way Emilia watched him look both ways before crossing the street and entering a sleek black car before pulling away from the curb.

But as he did pull away, and even though his satchel sat there with work to be redone, he found himself smiling a bit as he drove down the roads towards his apartment.

_______________

By late afternoon, James hadn’t come around and while she knew getting out of work early meant different things for different people, she had expected to see him coming around at about 2 or 3pm, but he hadn’t so she decided to get her mind off of it and handle her customers.

But when the bakery was empty, she found herself thinking of James and how he seemed so subdued in an abnormal way which let her know something was bothering him.

It might be friends, family, relationships, or even just life in and of itself, but something had James so down.

Though it did make her feel better when she remembered she had managed to make him smile a few times, a few sincere times and that was enough to make her feel as though she had been some type of help after all.

It was around 6:30pm and she was thinking about closing since it had been slowing down but when she looked up from the display case she saw James pulling the door open looking exhausted. He looked as though he was ready to just sink into the ground beneath him.

He walked in and took a deep breath before walking over to the display case where Emilia watched him quietly but carefully, worried about him because he seemed so sad today.

“Can I have the caramel praline cheesecake, please?” He asked and Emilia nodded, gesturing for him to sit down. She watched as he practically dragged his feet over to where he sat the day prior, setting his satchel down with a dull thump onto the stool next to his own.

It was quiet while she got everything ready, making sure to make him an extra hot vanilla caramel macchiato, quickly setting it in front of him before getting a good look at him face to face.

“Hi James,” She said as he took his first sip, smiling a bit before looking at her and saying, “Hi Emilia, how are you?”

“I am good. Better now that you’re here,” Emilia told him sincerely and he froze a bit at the comment, not expecting it but he tried to play it off as best he could. Was she really glad he was there or was she just being polite?

She had to just mean it in a polite way.

“How are you?” Emilia asked him and watched as he thought for a moment before answering.

“Long day at work,” James responded and Emilia felt as though maybe he did want to talk about it, but he needed to be prompted to do so, so she did.

“Do you want to talk about it? I’m a good listener, I promise,”

He took a bite of the cheesecake and a sip of coffee before nodding, “Uh- I was supposed to be out of the office by 2:00 or 2:30 at the latest but my boss was unhappy with my rewritten argument outline and work so he made me rewrite it again, and then edit it again,” He explained, remembering the words his father had spoken word for word.

“I simply do not understand what I paid so much in tuition for if you are incompitent and unable to form a clear and concise argument- even after I told you to rewrite it because it was weak.” Byron yelled and James lowered his head.

“You have the audacity to hand me this piece of utter garbage as rewritten work? This is shit. I expect this level of work from a fifth grade, not a 26 year old attorney! You embarrass me!” Byron continued, “Did you even try?”

James looked up and nodded, “I did try. I tried a lot. My best.” He responded but his father slammed his hand on the desk and shook his head, “Then your best isn’t enough. Rewrite it, get it done better, make sure it isn’t complete shit before even coming near me with that again…. And you can forget about getting out early if you’re going to fuck around,”

It had taken another try, albeit only a few edits but his father had only pointed to the door when he approved of the final file.

“I’m so sorry, James,” Emilia said, stepping forward a bit, “I’m sure your work was spectacular…. Where do you work?”

Swallowing his mouthful of coffee, he gestured lightly with his head back, “Bryer’s and Barnes law firm,” Looking up, he saw the recognition of his last name and the firm’s name and she tilted her head.

“I’m guessing your last name being Barnes isn’t just a coincidence?”

James shook his head with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Not at all. My dad is the current owner and head partner, but it was started by my great great grandfather way back when,” He told her and she understood.

“So it’s a family tradition to be a lawyer?” Emilia asked and she suddenly remembered the sandwich she had for James in the kitchen and she felt excited to have him try it since she was experimenting a bit with his taste buds.

James nodded again, “It is. But considering the way my father reacts to my work, I would say the natural knack for being an attorney skipped a generation,” James finished the sentence with a humorless laugh, but Emilia didn’t like how he used himself as the butt of a joke.

“Don’t say that. I’m sure you’re a fantastic attorney and I’m sure you excel. Parents are… parents are tough sometimes.”

Looking up, he saw she looked worried and that was the last thing he wanted so he nodded in agreement, “I’ll take your opinion to heart,” He told her as he patted his chest with his right hand.

She grinned and told him she’d return before she quickly went to the back to warm up the sandwich she had made for him in the broiler, leaving James to watch her as she left.

It had been an awful day and he wanted nothing more than to burrow into his bed and never leave again, simply withering away but at least it was Friday. Plus, Emilia had looked so happy to see him, so it was like a balancing act of that day.

Soon enough, she returned and she pushed another sandwich towards him, explaining that it was a mozzarella and tomato sandwich with avocado on a nice french baguette.

“You treat me too well,” James said pulling the plate towards him and Emilia bounced on her heels watching him take a bite which of course, was heaven on Earth, and he told her as such.

She clapped her hands together but was distracted by the bell above the door ringing and in walked a man and his son, his son quickly ran over to the display case and Emilia excused herself for a second as she went over to tend to her customers.

James sat and watched, smiling to himself despite his awful day as he watched Emilia’s soft mannerisms with them and the way she was patient with the kid who couldn’t make up his mind about the brownie or the cupcake.

Emilia chatted with the father who told her they had spent the afternoon at the park since he had gotten 100% on his spelling test which compelled Emilia to slide in a chocolate chip cookie for the kid as a reward before closing the box.

She was just so… kind and he couldn’t help but compare Emilia to something cozy and welcoming.

Soon enough though, they were on their way and Emilia watched them with a bit of a sad look but soon enough, it was gone and she was back standing in front of him, watching him but he didn’t feel uncomfortable under her gaze.

“How do you like being an attorney?” Emilia asked and James pondered for a bit before answering, “It’s a good job, it pays well and it lets me have a comfortable life,” He said, and Emilia knew it sounded rehearsed so she shook her head.

“No, I mean how do you like it? Do you like what you do?” She asked before realizing it was really quite the personal question and she apologized, “Oh- I’m so sorry, that’s such a personal question,”

But James assured her it was fine, “Don’t worry, it’s not. You’re uh- you’re easy to talk to… As for my job, it's fine. I don’t dislike it, it fills my days up with things to do so it’s alright,”

Before silence could consume them, Emilia’s phone started ringing on the counter behind her and she excused herself when she saw it, said Blaine, quickly answering it as she moved away from James to be polite.

He tried to not listen, but even though he did listen for a bit of it he didn’t really understand but Emilia told whoever was on the other end about a couch and a rug before they said goodbye.

That is what really stuck to him.

“Yes I will take care of it, Blaine. I love you too, bye,” She said before she hung up and set her phone down.

Did she have a boyfriend? Of course she had a boyfriend,

There was no way that anyone like Emilia; so sweet, so pretty, so… perfect, would be single. Especially with all of the customers she got on a daily basis, she was bound to be involved with someone.

As she turned back to James who had set down his sandwich and seemed to be full of thoughts.

“Is that um-” James tried to stutter out, but Emilia was patient as she rested along the counter behind her, “Was that your boyfriend, I mean,” He said as he gestured towards her phone.

Emilia laughed.

She let out a genuine laugh, but James knew it was directed towards him or even at him as he let himself listen to her laugh so hard she was wheezing for a second before she regained her composure and stood up straight.

“Sorry, sorry,” She said as she huffed a breath before she explained, “No. That was my brother, Blaine. He helped me move here and he left a sweatshirt that I’m holding hostage because I want to keep it,”

It all made sense and James felt the slightest bit foolish for ever asking the question.

“Sorry, I’m being nosey,” James said as he picked up his sandwich, but Emilia wasn’t letting him apologize as she waved him off with a smile.

“Not at all, being nosey is how you get to know people,” She told him as she reached for a rag behind her, “But no, I don’t have a boyfriend? Do you? Have a girlfriend or boyfriend?”

Emilia was twisting it as James chewed his sandwich before answering, “No. No girlfriend,” He affirmed, smiling back at Emilia looked satisfied with the answer before she busied herself with fixing the display case as he finished off the sandwich.

Before long James was finished paying and found himself standing in front of Emilia with the counter separating them but the smile Emilia sent him made him feel close to her.

“I’ll see you next week?” Emilia asked, resting her hands on the counter, pushing herself up a bit and James nodded quickly.

“I’ll be here. I promise,” He confirmed before he sent one final smile to her with a wave before heading out to go to his apartment where he would spend the rest of his evening alone with his trusty confidant: Alpine.

But somehow it seemed less lonely because he had something akin to friendship, right?

_________________

He tried to stay away.

It wasn’t logical, perhaps, but he couldn’t allow himself to get attached.

He was something to be held at arm’s length, and he had been shown that his entire life so it was only a matter of time until that was demonstrated and he ruined things.

James knew he had a habit of making a mess of things, and it was represented in every aspect of his life from his work to the way his father treated him. All of the wrongdoings he had once done always came back to bite him, and he couldn’t fathom hurting Emilia because he was too much of a mess.

As much as he found himself wanting to eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner with Emilia he stayed away.

That was until Wednesday.

He had been avoiding it at all costs. He couldn’t go back in there and allow himself to find comfort in a person because it somehow made leaving all that much more dreadful.

It was dangerous to become attached to someone like James.

But when he had been eviscerated by his father for mentioning an alternate route on an argument he couldn’t fathom going home alone again.

He was finally able to escape work at nearly 7 after hours and hours of fake smiles he passed onto everyone like a robot. In a reflection of his inner turmoil, the sky was opened up and drowning the world in cold rain that had him soaked in no time.

He let his feet take him where they would as he jogged and loosened his tie with the hand not holding the briefcase he could cease to never see again because he felt his tie was threatening to choke him, but as if the universe were attempting to body slam him into an early grave: when he tugged on the cafe door it was locked.

Sighing, he wiped rain out of his eyes and sighed, but Emilia was suddenly pulling open the door, taking hold of his hand as she ushered him in before locking the door behind them once more.  

“You’re soaked,” She said as she reached out to touch his hair, “Come on, I- I closed but you can- Jesus, just come on.”

Allowing her to take him by the hand, she led him around the counter he had been missing from for days, through the kitchen which was spotless, and up the stairs to a front door but all James was attached to was the fact that she was holding his hand.

They entered what had to be her apartment, and he took it all in as he stood in his soaked shoes before quickly kicking them off.

“I’ll be right back,” She told him dutifully before heading to her bedroom leaving James to look around her apartment.

The only way he could describe it was with the word “warm”. It was so well decorated, and it had such beautiful lighting with everything fitting together in a way his didn’t.

Where his apartment looked like it was straight out of a living magazine, top end furniture with everything expensive, hers just looked like an actual home with someone with a soul living there.

But she was soon returning with a bright smile on her face.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything that will fit you,” She apologized to him, “Well I do have shirts but not pants.”

“Don’t apologize.” He told her as he took the towel she offered, letting her usher him to one of the barstools as he wiped off his face.

Much to his surprise, she began drying off his hair with a genuine softness he hadn’t encountered since God knows when. But soon enough she was collecting the towels and letting them dry on one of the chairs.

“I could’ve just grabbed a couple of kitchen towels,” She said in retrospect as she walked around the counter, “But the bathroom ones are so much softer,”

James grinned at her, “I’m sorry for showing up after closing looking like a homeless dog,” He apologized sheepishly but Emilia wasn’t hearing any of it as she waved him off.

“No, I’m glad you’re here. It makes me glad to know you’re alive and that you haven’t forgotten about me,” She informed him as she grabbed a couple of oven mitts from a drawer and put them on, opening the oven door to take something out.

Her dinner.

James felt so impolite and out of place, he began apologizing profusely.

“I’m so sorry for just barging in on you during dinner,” He said as he tried to stand, Emilia reaching over the counter to gently pull him back down, “I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner,”

“Stop apologizing, I’m glad you’re here, okay? I like spending time with you,” She insisted with a smile that James was certain could derail a burglary, “I was downstairs because I forgot to shut off the register’s computer but it was good timing because I was there for your arrival,”

She gathered two plates alongside a serving spoon with a deft skill developed only through repetition before asking, “I made baked ziti. Do you like ziti?”

“I’ll eat anything you make,” He confessed, a blush coating his cheeks but Emilia just preened at his comment, serving him a healthy portion before handing it over to him before doing the same for herself.

They were soon eating, James barely containing a moan at how delicious it tasted.

“Why are you standing up?” He finally asked as Emilia was standing across from him, but she just shrugged with an easy smile.

“I like standing while eating sometimes, it’s good for digestion or something,” She told him as she gestured with her fork, “Do you like it?”

He nodded vigorously, “It’s delicious. I- thank you, Emilia. I’m sorry I’ve been…. Absent,” He apologized as he looked down towards the yellow plate before him, spearing a few pieces of pasta with his fork.

“Don’t apologize for working and being otherwise occupied. You’re here now and that’s what matters, right?”

James didn’t respond but he gave her a lopsided smile that sent more butterflies in her stomach than could be contained within a museum. The silence between them was comfortable, almost like a blanket on a chilly day.

Before long they were both finished, James insisting on washing the dishes as Emilia stood nearby and asked about his day where she saw his physical reaction to his job being mentioned.

He became tense and uneasy, telling her his job was truly making him unhappier than he bothered to let on.

“It was… work,” James said before sighing in defeat, unable to find the will to put up a front, “It was fucking terrible. I- I suggested an alternate route of argument and use of information and my dad flipped out and just went off so that really dampened my mood,”

She listened dutifully as James told her what had happened, telling her the harsh words spoken to him by the very many whose sole responsibility was to love him unconditionally and support him.

“Oh James,” Emilia said as she moved to stand beside him and take the plate he was clutching in his hand out of his tight grip, setting it onto the drying rack but instead of asking how he felt- that much was obvious- she interlocked her left arm with his right and pulled him along, “Come on, I’ll give you a tour.”

That cracked a smile out of him as she took him around, the seemingly unbearable weight that had been on his shoulders was soon anything but there.

“These are my photos, I thought they looked nice on the wall and on the bookshelves,” She told him as she showed him the photos of her family, explaining every photo he pointed to in curiosity regarding the backstory.

There was one hung on the wall where the TV was mounted, it was obviously a younger version of Emilia,  no older than four on the hip of a man who could only ever be her father given the similarities.

Their same eyes, beautiful smiles, and genuine happiness on the beach behind them.

“That’s my dad,” Emilia said as she gently traced a finger on the photo, “That day; my dad packed us for the beach instead of school and we drove out to the bay where we spent the entire day together just doing whatever we felt was right,”

James smiled at the photo, seeing all of her father in her in such a beautiful feminine way.

“Are you two still close?” He asked.

Emilia stared at the picture a bit longer before blinking herself out of the trance she was in and she turned to James with a sad smile.

“He passed away when I was fifteen, and all it took was a drunk driver on a late night,” Emilia explained, “But I owe everything to him. Everything I want, I have, and that’s because of him,”

He asked her what she meant and she gestured around with her hands.

“All of this is thanks to him…. I went to college and majored in English and while I loved it there was always this pull towards something else, something more,” She began explaining, “Growing up my dad loved to cook, and he always had me with him, telling me about this and that while he was cooking. This made me just gravitate towards the kitchen to be alongside him which is where he taught me to bake and to cook,”

Moving back towards a table she had underneath the staircase, she pulled out a thick brown book and set it on the dining room table.

“He left us some money when he passed away, and I used it to buy this building, fix it up, create a home as well as a business. I named it after his favorite song because he always told me that baked goods were especially good on rainy days,” Emilia opened up the book and showed him the handwritten recipes, “I couldn’t even turn on an oven or a stovetop after he died, but he opened up my life to this huge opportunity and I couldn’t let it go,”

James was quiet as he gently took in all that this book meant to Emilia, all of the memories that had to be within every single page because in a sense, this was a physical reminder of her father.

“That’s so beautiful, are these all of his recipes?”

“No,” Emilia shook her head, “These are some, but there are three others over there too. He was diligent about writing his recipes down because he always said that he could be the next Barefoot Contessa,”

That earned a laugh from James who watched as Emilia put it away before turning to him with a smile.

“He sounds…  unbelievable,” He told her as they met on his side of the table, “I’m sorry for your loss but it sounds like he left you with enough to keep him alive,”

Emilia agreed, pointing towards one of her which had to be recent with her arms wrapped around someone who was wearing glasses, both of them grinning towards the camera as his hands were holding onto her forearms.

“That’s my brother, Blaine,” She explained, “He’s three years older and he is the coolest guy you’ll ever meet,”

They went through the photos, and she seemed so happy as she spoke of her family and a few friends she had photos with.

So carefree and pretty, James had to stop himself from grabbing her face and kissing her but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do that to himself and most importantly; he couldn’t do it to her. It would be so easy to ruin things, and it would only be a matter of time for him to demolish this as well so he didn’t.

Instead, they finished up the tour and James’ clothing was sufficiently dry to sit on the couch with Emilia who was searching for something for them to watch, James amicable to anything she wanted.

They settled on Gilmore Girls after James had confessed to never having watched it which Emilia told him was sacrilegious of him.

Soon, the memory of James’ bad day, bad week, and monotone life was just a distant memory as they spoke comfortably with one another; getting to know one another on a deeper level. James spoke of his life and his upbringing, though with less openness than Emilia who did the same at James’ request.

She told him of her mother, her brother, her father, and her upbringing in northern California. In some ways it made James stomach clench in indescribable ways because his childhood couldn’t have been more opposite.

Where she had love and affection, raising someone who welcomed people- even him- with open arms, ready for just about anything James had been raised to be quiet and shut off from people, closing himself off because that was how a man was. Though with her he didn’t want that, he wanted to just be free with her but he had to hold himself back.

They decided to watch a movie instead of watching Gilmore Girls since they seemed keen on talking over it, settling on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Through the movie and their chats, they moved closed together until they were close enough for Emilia to rest her head on his arm after they had been quiet for a bit, sleep taking over her and leaving her to lean on James.

He was suddenly tremendously aware of how well she fit alongside him as he let her rest, careful not to make any sudden moves because he didn’t want to wake her.

Forgoing the movie, he opted for leaning his head back and allowing himself to take in all of the feelings she brought out in him, feelings he had never allowed himself to with someone because of this or that.

Too busy with lacrosse practice, too busy with undergrad, then law school, then now it was too much with his work.

But in reality it was being too busy and too preoccupied with the fear of becoming attached to someone and the vulnerabilities that came with that.

The fear of maybe, just maybe having something wrong with him.

Something wrong enough to have his own father treat him like garbage, enough to have his mother’s apathy prevail, and wrong enough to be this unlovable man who just wasn’t cut out for having an earth shattering love from someone perfect.

Someone like Emilia.

But for now he allowed himself to hope and simmer in what it would be like if he were just normal and not afraid of the brutality a relationship could bring out.

Years of subduing his emotions had taught him that, but sometimes emotions still won out as he felt his eyes burn with unshed tears as he looked towards the ceiling of Emilia’s apartment because fuck he was tired of holding it all in.

Suddenly Emilia was moving and instead of waking up, she moved closer and towards his neck, prompting James to wrap his arm around her to keep her there.

His thoughts were silenced at the warm weight, minutes passed and they were unaccounted for on either of their ends.

Waking up an hour later, Emilia woke up to the strong presence of what she had grown to known as James’ cologne before it all came flooding back to her and she just jumping out of his arms, her face blushing bright red.

“Oh my- I’m so sorry,” She said as she hid her face in her hands, “That’s so embarrassing, I’m sorry I just fell asleep on you like some creep on a subway.”

“Stop it, you’re not some creep on a subway, Emilia,” James said as he moved his arm around a bit to regain some circulation.

Sighing, Emilia nodded though her blush was still prevalent on her face as she reached for the coffee table to check the time which made James realize he was more than likely overstepping his welcome by a large margin.

Finally saying their goodbyes, James was startled when Emilia wrapped her arms around him at the door where he wrapped his own arms around her before he made his way to his car.

His drive home was full of thoughts, his mind reeling with that entire day and what he had felt as he gripped his steering wheel with more force than was necessary

One thing was for certain, however.

He was completely enamored by Emilia, but that was a surprise because it was almost impossible to fathom someone who would be unable to fall for Emilia.

All that she was could be summarized by the word “warm”. She was all James could hope to have in his life, to any extent, but he knew his feelings were beyond those of a dear friend or a loyal customer.

Slamming the door shut behind him, he knew that he had never been one to believe in love at first sight, chalking it up to an old wive’s tale or something that’s one in a million yet here he was. Here he was feeling as though he were drowning in his vastly empty apartment.

The same apartment he had worked hard for, gone to years of prestigious schools and having nothing but the best at the cost of his self esteem and mental health.

He was taken out of his thoughts by a soft headbutt aimed at his shin by his truest confidant.

Alpine was demanding attention, allowing herself to be scooped up by James who led them into the kitchen which felt so much colder than it ever had, the only warmth in this apartment was Alpine.

“I think you’d like Emilia,” James told her as he took out her cat food, “Her apartment, too. There’s so much to like,”

Dumping Alpine’s food into her bowl, he set them both down as he thought about how in over his head he was, how much he wished things were different, but most of all he wished he had the ability to be normal and grant himself the possibility of obtaining a little hope with Emilia.

To just allow himself to feel without waiting for the subsequent blow that always came along.

Unbeknownst to him, Emilia was in her own apartment with her mind reeling with nothing but James.

How he had stepped into her bakery with a hundred yard stare she had only ever seen in herself after her father died and before the pain minimized.

But she had managed to crack a smile out of him, then another, and it all flowered so well together. He was intelligent, soft spoken, and it looked like he just needed someone to listen to him and perhaps and safe haven away from his very own life.

Though she wouldn’t deny the way she was drawn to him, one moment of eye contact during their first encounter was enough to draw her in and leave her wanting more, subsequently leaving her disappointed when she didn’t see him for a few days.

Love hadn’t been a top priority for her, having taken her father’s words to heart when he told her true love had no timeline and that she was destined for a soulmate but it would come when they both needed it the most.

James seemed so sad, his mood always set as a bare simmer but she was always able to have him leave with an extra pep in his step.

It was easy with them, but it was obvious James held back from really telling her how he felt but she’d let him open up to her when he felt it was right, let him come to her when he felt he really needed to get away from the negativity his life provided.

He was also tremendously handsome, God, his steel blue eyes paired with his dark mid length hair was enough to make any woman stutter. Combined with his broad shoulders, well worked body, and extended height… well that didn’t hurt either.

Of course she wanted things to be simple, for both of them to be open with their emotions but sometimes it was more difficult for people to open up. From what he had confessed about his father, it was evident he didn’t take his own emotions into consideration, setting them aside and ignoring them for the sake of his own sanity and to keep up appearances.

It would happen when it needed to happen, but regardless she refused to allow James to slip out of her lift and into his own loneliness again.

_________________________

This is the way things continued alongside the weather dropping.

James would visit, spend as much time as he wanted or could alongside Emilia who was always eager to have him there in her company.

The more he visited, the more he felt, the more he felt, the more afraid he became.

He had fallen for Emilia hard without the ability to find himself staying away for too long because he somehow felt himself worsen when he was away, and the bitter contentment with the fact that all they would ever be was friends was better than being away completely.

“What’re you doing for thanksgiving?” Emilia had asked one evening as they shared a slice of strawberry cheesecake, James shrugging and telling her that his parents were having a large dinner party but that he had made up an excuse to stay away from his family as much as he could.

Which is how he found himself standing outside of Emilia’s home at 7:30 in the morning on Thanksgiving day after Emilia had given him puppy dog eyes and asked if he wanted to spend it with her.

“Come on, we have much to do,” Emilia told him as she took his hand and led him to the back kitchen where much to his surprise, there was already someone there.

Well two someones, actually.

The guy from her photos, her brother Blaine, was there with a toddler on his hip spinning in circles until he noticed their arrival.

“Hi! I’m Blaine,” He introduced brightly, making his way around the large center counter to shake his hand, “It’s so nice to meet you, James. Emilia speaks of you so much…. This is Maya,”

Still surprised, he shook Blaine’s hand mutely before regaining his foot and speaking to them, “It’s nice to meet you too,” He said as he looked around the kitchen where Emilia was shutting a box of something.

“We have a lot of work to do, but instead Blaine is eating the rejected cookies.” Emilia explained as she lifted a pumpkin pie into another yellow box before shutting it and writing on the top.

Blaine grinned and set Maya down, grabbing the tupperware container from the counter behind him and offering them to James saying, “Some of them have oatmeal so it’s like eating breakfast oatmeal,” He reasoned, James smiled and took one without much hesitation.

“We don’t actually have work,” Emilia admitted with a smile towards James, “I’m closed today but I took orders so I have to hand them out when they arrive,”

Blaine studied James as he munched on his cookie before asking, “How attached are you to the traditional Thanksgiving ideology?”

“I’m not too attached, it’s a bit odd, isn’t it?” James answered after a bit of pondering, “But why do you ask?”

Setting aside the boxed pie, Emilia shared a grin with Blaine that James thought looked suspiciously excited.

“Well we have a tradition where we pick an all day dessert or two and we just spend the day together baking,” She explained “But we don’t do turkey or anything, we always just for a nice drive, order Thai or Italian food for dinner then enjoy our desserts,”

That seemed like genuine fun to James, his face lighting up like a child as he nodded at the thought of spending the entire day with Emilia as well as her brother who seemed to be a really cool guy.

Suddenly it seemed as though Thanksgiving and major holidays weren’t so rotten and so far from fun.

_________________

The entire day was filled with helping Emilia box up orders, getting to know Blaine, wielding Maya who was attached to his leg for a good portion of the time, and just having a good time.

He couldn’t remember a holiday where he had laughed so much and enjoyed himself with those he was with. Holidays were something he dreaded and often felt a pit of anxiety because of, but here he was enjoying himself.

Their brunch had consisted of omelets thanks to Blaine who had accompanied it with bacon, James smiling as Emilia shared hers with Maya.

Both siblings had insisted James pick the dessert which had him opting for cinnamon rolls which had Blaine cheering after peeking over James’ shoulder to see what he had chosen, Emilia rolling her eyes at her brother.

“You can mix the sugar and butter,” Emilia told James as she slid over the ingredients to him, his eyes lighting up as he took the rubber spatula and poked the softened butter.

Blaine's eyes widened at that, narrowing them, “You’re letting him help you? Last time I tried to help you, you grabbed my arm with a hot oven mit!” Blaine accused, but Emilia made an innocent face.

“You were eating all of the frosting for the cookies,” She told her brother as she subconsciously helped James pack the brown sugar into the measuring cup, “Plus I had told you to watch the cookies but you let the first batch burn,”’

Blaine huffed but smiled at Emilia and James despite himself, watching as she monitored the way he mixed together the ingredients as she rolled out the proved dough with a well floured rolling pin, Blaine the only one without a task.

Growing up Emilia had attempted to have Blaine learn to bake with her but he just didn’t have the self control to avoid eating the frosting or the delicious dough before it was cooked so he opted to let Emilia manage the baking.

There was something between both Emilia and James, that much was obvious, but it seemed they were taking it slow.

“So Blaine, can I ask what your family is up to today?” Blaine asked casually as he scrubbed the mixing bowl as his designated duty to clean up while they waited for the cinnamon rolls.

James paused his movements where he was wiping off the counter with a damp rag, attempting to figure out how to word things while Emilia watched him with worried eyes to see how he was going to take the question.

“They’re having a dinner party,” James told him, “But uh- I don’t really like spending too much time with them, you know? It’s rocky.”

Thankfully, Blaine seemed to be just as understanding as Emilia.

“I hear you, man,” He told James as he held up his sponge, “Families are complicated for some people, Emilia and I got lucky but we were always raised to open our home and family to people so I’m glad you’re here, James,’

Finding he was staring at Blaine, he finally snapped himself out of his trance and he nodded a few times as he swallowed hard.

“Thanks, Blaine. That means a lot to me.” James confessed, Blaine’s nod was casual as he continued to wash the dishes but Emilia noticed how stunned he seemed by the confession which had her making her way over to him, resting her hand on his as she gave it a reassuring squeeze.

He squeezed her hand back, the remaining tension that he hadn’t been able to feel dissipated disappeared from his body as he enjoyed the evening with the two siblings.

By the time they had eaten their fill of Thai food, cinnamon rolls, and watched all that they could one single day, James had to admit he had never had such a fun holiday. Perhaps the holidays when his grandparents were still alive were comparable, but even then he favored this thanksgiving above all others.

James thanked Emilia with a soft smile for the day after she had insisted on walking him out to his car with the smile that had been on her face all day was still unwavering.

“No, thank you for coming,” Emilia told him as they stood on the sidewalk next to James’ car, “I’m so glad you came, it was amazing having you here alongside Blaine.”

“I was really nervous seeing your brother, but you guys are just so welcoming and fun to be around.” James admitted.

The smile on Emilia’s face somehow managed to grow, she felt herself unable to hold back as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around James’ middle tightly.

He paused for a moment, taken aback by the sudden affection but he was soon wrapping his own arms around her just as tightly, resting his cheek atop hers as she rested her head along his shoulder with her face in his neck.

Unbeknownst to both of them, Blaine was peeking through the window to see whether or not they would kiss though the hug didn’t disappoint him either. The entire day has been very telling regarding their feelings towards one another, but he hadn’t been sure about where they were exactly.

Emilia let go first, James would have hugged her until the sunrise but he also let go, taking in the last of her warm perfume before smiling down at her.

“Please get home safe, alright? I’ll be open tomorrow should you want to come around, alright?”

He nodded, his heart ready to burst as he told her he’d see her soon before making his way over to his car with Emilia’s watchful eye on him. She waved as he drove away, watching until he drove away and out of sight.

Entering her apartment, Blaine wolf whistled from where he sat on the couch.

“A hug? You two are sure to get arrested for public indecency,” Blaine teased Emilia rolling her eyes at him as she kicked off her Birkenstocks and began heading over to her brother to divulge her feelings about James and how to go about them.

A couple of blocks away, James was sitting in his car stopped at a red light thinking about how absolutely screwed he was.

He was absolutely and irrevocably in love with Emilia and there were few things in his life that had even gotten a jolt out of him like this one. A jolt of realization, the sudden feeling of your heart dropping into your stomach and getting caught in your throat all at once alongside your blood going freezing cold.

The honk from the car behind him announced to him that the light had turned green, but even when he accelerated down Briggs Ave. he still found his thoughts and heart stuck back a couple of blocks away.

Few things in life were easy, and being around Emilia was one of the easiest things James had ever gone about yet it also seemed to be the most detrimental.

____________________

Hope is a finicky thing, and James was well aware of that.

He was more aware of that than anything else in his life because hope had given him seldom in life.

The brutality of the reality of things was something he was more than accustomed to with his parents and upbringing shielding him from poverty but not much else.

Thanksgiving weekend dripped away and before long they were in December where the weather had soon dropped into inhumanely cold temperatures where the only solace James ever found from the coldness of the weather and his thoughts were alongside Emilia.

The first week of December had been a simple enough one for James until he had gotten in a verbal altercation with his father regarding whether or not James was to take on an assigned case.

It was simple in his eyes, he wasn’t going to defend a high school student facing real time in prison for smashing into a mother’s vehicle while street racing. However to Byron it was also simple: James did what he said, but he had never received such a headstrong from his son.

“You have to take on whatever case is presented to you.” Byron had demanded in his office, James knowing that the entire office was listening in on this argument but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to stand up for another kid identical to the ones he had gone to school with.

The ones with lack of empathy, remorse, or the ability to think selflessly because he had fought long and hard to never become one so he sure as hell wouldn’t defend on.

His father had ground him down into nothing but he wouldn’t go against the little belief he had in himself about being a kind person.

Though he had stood his ground, earning less than kind words from his father ending with the coined phrase, “I am so disappointed in you.” Which stung less and less every time he used it until now it was nothing but a dull ache that followed him.

“Trust me, I know.” James had told him before stepping out of his father’s office, the weight of the not-so-subtle stares from assistant, partners, and clients were less than comforting but the dull ache followed him for only a few steps.

Fridays meant leaving early, and by 2:30 James was escaping the office with a quick goodbye to the receptionist before he made his way over to perhaps eat his weight in cheesecake or danishes.

What he hadn’t expected was for Emilia to be preoccupied with something, or someone namely.

It didn’t bother James of course, she was a business owner and she chatted with everyone she needed to.

Spotting James, she continued the conversation about what seemed to be tips on baking chocolate chip cookies as she went over to the display to grab him a slice of blueberry cheesecake before preparing his coffee without having to be asked.

Taking his seat at his usual spot along the counter, he thanked her with a smile he knew didn’t completely reach his eyes, a concerned look growing on her face but she turned back to the other man.

He didn’t listen in much in favor of drinking his piping hot coffee with his cake after Emilia had set it down for him.

God, he wished this guy would leave so the place could be empty. He needed it to be empty so he could tell her about his day and the reason behind why he looked as though he had just gotten his ass handed to him.

But wasn’t that so selfish? Selfish to want to vent to her again, tell her about his stupid life again when he had it pretty good. Sure his father was an asshole and his emotions were everywhere but that wasn’t her problem to solve, was it?

Why did he feel the need to run to her when they were nothing more than friends? Were they even friends or was he just breaking the customer-seller boundary again and again without Emilia finding it within herself to tell him that she really didn’t care.

What made it even more sad was the way his heart would do something like a kickflip whenever she’d glance at him from where she was still speaking to the guy who had been there the entire time.

Fumbling out of his thoughts, he listened in at the moment he later assumed fate needed him to listen in on.

“So, see you Saturday evening?” The man asked, James’ heart stuttering in a less than comforting way as he blanched.

Was it a date?

“Yeah, see you then, Nate.” Emilia confirmed with one of her grand smiles James had foolishly thought she had only ever reserved for him after weeks and weeks of… this.

Of James coming in and dumping his emotions on her, both of them going back and forth but it must be so exhausting for her to have him go in again and again, knowing he was lonely.

Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard at the realization as he fumbled to stand and grab his briefcase as he remembered he needed to pay for everything.

Blindly grabbing his wallet, he pulled out a random denomination of bills hoping it was enough to cover the tab without speaking a word.

Heading to the door, he nearly bumped into the man who had made plans with Emilia, almost as though fate wanted to rub it into his face that he had made a date with Emilia before James could do anything but pine from the sidelines.

“James?” Emilia asked worriedly from her side of the counter before he could exit, “Where are you going? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just have to go, sorry for always barging in here on you but have fun on Saturday.” He told her with a falsely bright voice, heading out towards his car leaving Emilia utterly confused.

Picking up his dishes she saw he had eaten less than half of his cake though his coffee was all but gone from the mug leaving her worried about what the hell was going on.

Why had he apologized?

___________________

As the younger sibling, Emilia had one talent and it was being profoundly stubborn.

The gnawing worry she felt for James had done anything but subsided after his quick exit, prompting her to call him again and again until he answered her fifth call and third text by the time she had flipped her sign from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’ at 7pm.

It hadn’t been easy to have him agree to go back, though with the promise of a listening ear as she decorated 140 cupcakes for an elementary school aged party for the following morning.

“So what was your grand escape about?” Emilia asked when James’ hands were busy mixing pastel yellow frosting for her, knowing it was easier to open up when you weren’t directly focused in on opening up.

There was silence in the kitchen aside from the music Emilia seemed to always have playing when she baked.

She didn’t push, allowing him to go at his own pace after manhandling him and convincing him to go.

“I came to the realization that I come around here a lot and constantly dump things on you about my day. It must be so exhausting for you because you have so many other things to do.” James told her as he added another drop of food gel as he attempted to get the pastel yellow Emilia was going for.

Finishing her blue swirl, she set down her piping bag and looked at him, “You do realize that I do the same to you, right? We’re meant to help one another but I can assure you that you do not bug me. Not today, yesterday, or next October.” Emilia told him seriously.

There was no response, causing Emilia to put down the piping bag she had just picked up.

“Do I bug you, James? When I tell you about my day, my family, or even about how I slept?” Emilia asked him, earning a wide eyed look from James who shook his head as he set down his spatula.

“Of course not, I want to hear what you have to say.”

“That’s how I feel about you,” Emilia told him, “I know you weren’t raised to be very open with your emotions or thoughts so when you are you feel like a burden or as though you did something wrong, but you didn’t. Not with me.”

Continuing on to the next white bowl of frosting, he seemed to be lost in thoughts as he began mixing in a few drops of blue food gel before he was able to verbalize.

“How are you able to be so… open and just good with your feelings?” He asked, and maybe somewhere deep within him there was a small ray of hope where things would just click and there wouldn’t be such a gap between his emotions and his words.

Not looking away from where she was decorating her cupcakes, she told him her sincerest answer, “I just grew up in a home where it was safe and encouraged to be open about how you’re feeling. My dad was really big on that because his dad was really cruel with him when he was growing up so he never wanted to have his kids grow up in that kind of home where it was bad to feel and where they grew up afraid.”

“But,” Emilia continued softly, “Something bothered you today, something must have triggered these adverse thoughts in your ever intelligent mind.”

Satisfied with the green shade he pushed away the bowl before running his hand down his face.

“It was- it’s so stupid but I saw that guy today and I just wanted him to leave so I could talk to you and have you to myself? I don’t- it’s so selfish to want that, I know, but then I thought he was locking in a date which isn’t my business because you’re allowed to date whoever you want because we’re not- you know?” He stuttered out a mile a minute, “Jesus I’m fumbling here, can you- I should go.”

James made an attempt to flee after Emilia allowed him to stutter through his emotions, but he didn’t get far because Emilia was grabbing onto his arm and dragging him back to his spot, gently but firmly.

“No, no, no, no, no, this is good, this is called discourse and vulnerability, James,” Emilia told him as she moved him back to where he had been standing, “It’s just me, you’re always allowed to feel however it is you’re feeling around me.”

He nodded, settling down as Emilia made her way to her own spot.

“Sorry. It’s just difficult because I’ve never been able to be open with someone? You know that, though.” James said as he repeated it for the millionth time, but Emilia just smiled.

“Yeah, well they’ll never know you the way that I do.” She said so simply James felt his chest crack wide open in that kitchen, the affection he felt for her was uncanny to anything else in his life. He had fallen deeply, and it was as pleasant as it was painful.

________________________

It didn’t take long for Emilia to finish up the order, closing it up and setting it in the fridge when she came back with unfrosted cupcakes and a brilliant idea.

She had insisted on teaching James to frost a cupcake after he had expressed some interest in it as he watched her do it so easily and with such simplicity for over a hundred cupcakes, not one wonky or out of order.

So she stood close to him, placing her hands above his as she guided the correct pressure and movements she had perfected after years and years of baking, James’ movements clunky and unperfected underneath her hands.

James had moved so her back was pressed against his front, his focus on her warmth and the way her hands were so, so soft and so gentle with his own, making his heart want to hammer straight out of his chest onto the counter.

“You’re doing great.” Emilia complimented as she subtly loosened her hold on his hands, allowing him to guide it until he did his own slightly wonky swirl.

She moved aside, standing next to him as he continued on from a chocolate cupcake to a vanilla cupcake with the yellow frosting peeking out of the tip, his eagerness obvious.

Suddenly he felt hyper aware of how close she was to him and he just couldn’t stop himself anymore, he really couldn’t.

All at once he moved forward with his instinct without a secondary thought of doubt plaguing him, turning to the right where Emilia was standing, cupping her face with his right hand and leaning down in swift movements before he kissed her soundly.

Emilia’s lips were soft and warm against his own he knew were closer to chapped than not, the sensation he felt was nothing he could have prepared for in the instances he had restrained himself from doing this beforehand.

To James it was like the friendly deja vu he was privy to experiencing at times, as though they had years and years of practice doing this together. He felt Emilia really respond, pushing a little deeper where he was able to taste the remains of the unsold blueberry muffin Emilia had been munching on earlier during his arrival.

However much both parties enjoyed this, breathing was still a requirement which had them pulling away, James peeling open his eyes to see Emilia grinning widely at him, her eyes alive with affection he had been certain of concocting in his own mind.

Before he could speak a word or utter an apology, Emilia was cupping his face within her own hands and raising herself onto her toes where she kissed James again and again chastely, pulling away with an overexaggerated “Mwah!”

“Was this your plan all along?” She asked with a teasing smile, “Get me to show you my frosting technique, kiss me, and run away with this and my other secrets?”

James threw his head back and laughed, the laugh bubbling out of his chest as Emilia laughed alongside him. In the future, the sheer simplicity of it all is what stuck out in James’ head the most.

__________________

The way Emilia’s face lit up when she saw James appear the next day, a Thursday, made just about everything in his day worthwhile because that sent a jolt through him. It was after six thirty, his plans of lunch with Emilia had been thwarted by piles of paperwork, settling for a Clif bar and a water bottle.

His mood was negative, something he could feel following him like a cloud in one of those antidepressant commercials that came on tv, his father making his life a living hell because of his lack of appearance at thanksgiving. It had been over a week since thanksgiving but it was still fresh in his father’s mind.

Rude comments, damning his work, and just making him feel about as worthless as a human being could and he was so exhausted.

“Ahoy there,” Emilia greeted from behind her counter, walking towards James who was walking around it and practically throwing himself into her arms.

He greeted her back in a tired voice, Emilia wrapping her arms around his shoulders tightly as she allowed him to find comfort within her arms with his own wrapped around her middle so tightly she thought he might want to mold himself into her body.

“What happened? You look like you just got told your car is getting repoed,” Emilia asked, James pulling away with a shrug, “Nothing,”

“James,” Emilia said, not buying his lackluster answer, finally getting out of James what he had been harboring in his mind all day without anyone but Emilia to tell.

“My dad is an asshole who gets a sadistic high out of making me feel like shit, is all,” James said in a light tone Emilia knew was meant to be joking but the way his voice cracked at the last word had her making her way over to the front door, locking it securely before turning over the sign to announce she was closed.

“C’mon mister,” She told him as was back in front of him, grabbing his hand, “You can help me prepare some stuff for tomorrow because God knows the holidays make people love their baked goods and today was a riot in here.”

Suddenly he felt out of place and as though again, he hadn’t considered that she might be busy running an entire business where she was the sole baker.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry. Do you want me to go so you can work?” James asked as he stopped at the door of the back kitchen, prompting Emilia to tug him in with a shake of her head.

“No. I want you here, silly,”

“But you have so much-” He was cut off by Emilia grabbing his face and kissing him soundly, it was chaste but it got the job done because afterwards James was left short circuiting for a few moments.

“James, would you do me the favor of keeping me company while I do some work here? I’d love to have you here with me,”

With a smile, he shrugged and followed her back to the kitchen where she began to do her work.

[winter-soldier-vibes]

Hello can u do a bucky x reader where reader feels insecure and doesn’t have sex with him bc of her stretch marks and our bucky boi finding out and offering comfort and kisses as a result? Love you tysm❤️❤️❤️

Bucky x reader

Word count: 1325

Warnings: brief mention of being intimate (no smut), insecurities, stretch marks, this is mostly comfort and fluffy. Readers are responsible for their own media consumption.

A/N: I love this idea so much! I kept this on the fluffy side but i really hope you enjoy it!

You won't like what you see

“Hey, can we - can we stop?” you said, slightly out of breath as you broke away from Bucky. The two of you had been kissing and Bucky had pulled you closer to him, bringing his hands to the hem of your shirt.

Of course, he immediately stopped and nodded, looking at you with concern. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

You shook your head, making sure your shirt was pulled down all the way. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it. It’s not you, I promise. I’m just gonna go take a shower”

And with that you had walked away, Bucky watching after you worriedly.

Bucky was never upset that the two of you hadn’t been intimate together. Being from the 40’s where it wasn’t uncommon for people to save themselves for marriage made him understanding. But that didn’t seem to be why.

You made an effort to show how much you loved him, you cared for him, you were with him through everything. The nightmares, his insecurities, the flashbacks, pushing him to keep contact with others even though “you were all he needed” - you were his rock.

And Bucky knew that the two of you could have a relationship without sex, and he was perfectly content with what the two of you had.

But he noticed that you didn’t seem to be.

At first he thought it might have been his fault. He had been self conscious of his metal arm, especially where metal met skin, but you had made it your mission to get Bucky to accept himself. All of him. He was your everything, and you needed him to know that and feel it too.

Anytime you caught him staring at himself in the mirror, you would walk up from behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, meeting his eyes in the mirror. No words would be exchanged, but you would press soft kisses to the scarring on his left shoulder.

He thought maybe you didn’t have interest in him, but the heated kisses and lingering touches pointed otherwise. It all stopped when his hands reached the hem of your shirt.

Every time he got too close to you, you seemed to get uncomfortable. And Bucky wanted to know why so he could fix it. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander to if someone had ever hurt you in the past, making his blood boil.

He wanted you to tell him what was wrong so he could help you like you had helped him.

You had walked into the bathroom, locking the door and turning on the water. You turned to the mirror as you let the water warm up, cursing yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be closer with Bucky, it was that you were insecure of yourself. You took off your clothes and saw what you didn’t want Bucky to see.

Your stretch marks.

You knew that it was silly to be so upset with them, that many people had them. During growth spurts, gaining weight, having a naturally wider build - they were at the bottom of your stomach, the insides of your thighs, your chest… all the places you didn’t want them to be.

You sighed, turning away. You had tried different products that delivered empty promises. Some of the marks had started to fade but they were still distinct. It was ironic in a way, how you wanted Bucky to trust you with his insecurities and you wanted to know when it bothered him so you could help him, yet you couldn’t show this to Bucky. Not only did you feel weak for letting it bother you, but you couldn’t get past the fact that you were so self conscious. All the articles and body positivity people saying how “stretch marks are normal” didn’t help you much.

It wasn’t that you didn’t think a person could be beautiful with them - in fact pretty much everyone was perfect the way they were. Except for you. Stretch marks are fine and normal - but when you have them they seem ugly.

You noticed that steam had fogged up your mirror, realizing you had spaced out while critiquing your body. You sighed and turned back to the shower, stepping in and letting the water wash over you. You were quick, not wanting to be standing there with yourself for longer than necessary. You finished and turned off the water, drying yourself off before stepping out so you wouldn’t be tempted to stare in the mirror again.

You got dressed in your pajamas and stepped out of the bathroom to find Bucky also in bed. You gave him a soft smile which he returned, though you would still see some of the worry in his eyes. You sat down on the bed and he sat up next to you.

“Sorry, about...earlier.”

“You don’t have to be,” he said reassuringly.

There was a pause before he added, “Can I ask what happened?”

You looked down, embarrassed.

“I just...if it’s something I did I just wanna know so I can fix it.”

Your head snapped back up to him, turning to face him. “Oh god, no, Bucky it’s not you, I promise I just…” you shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He took your hands in his. “You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?”

You looked at him for a moment before nodding.

“I can tell something is bothering you and I just want to know so I can help you,” he said gently.

“It’s embarrassing,” you said.

“I’m not here to judge you.”

You took a deep breath before looking down. “You’re not gonna like what you see,” you say softly.

That took Bucky by surprise, so much so that he didn’t know if he had heard you properly. “What do you mean sweetheart?”

You took another deep breath. “You know how sometimes I catch you staring in the mirror too long, judging yourself and being insecure with your arm?” you ask and Bucky nods, not following along. “I get like that a lot too,” you said softly.

“Why?” he asked softly, still not understanding how you could be insecure about yourself.

“I’m not what society wants me to be. I’m larger in all the wrong places and I have stretch marks everywhere. I don’t like the way I look and I’m afraid you won’t either. It’s so stupid because I know it’s normal but I just hate it so much.”

Bucky tilted your chin so you could look at him. “You are the most beautiful person I have ever met. I understand being insecure, I really do. But you always told me to never hide it. Why did you?”

You shrugged. “Most people have stretch marks. I felt stupid for being so upset.”

“So you’re saying I have a reason to be insecure?”

“No, Bucky, come on...You went through hell. All I did was grow too fast. You hold a lot of horrible memories with that arm. You were tortured. All that happened to me was that I compared myself to models on Instagram or in magazines. I don’t have a right to be upset.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head before pulling back to look at you. “You have every right to feel the way you feel. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about society these days is it’s all an act. Everything you see is staged and it’s what they want us to see.” He smiled slightly at you. “The only thing I know is that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known, and that’s enough for me. Fuck what society says.”

You smiled shyly at him and he leaned his forehead against you. “You’re so beautiful. A few marks isn’t gonna change that.”

You nodded slightly, leaning forward to kiss him. “Thank you Bucky.”

‘No need to thank me when all I did was tell the truth.”

-------

tags: @babydaddy-buckybarnes @buckys-blue-eyes @barnesplums @abitgryffindorky @freigeistundanderes @bucks-bunny @thatfangirl42 @broadwaybabe18 @mardema