#james barnes the eighth grade history teacher

[eurynome827]

Parent Teacher Conference

Read Part One: Back To School Night

(for @the-ss-horniest-book-club Back To School Week - today is Bucky's day, and it's been a year since I wrote that little drabble and asked if it should be A Thing™️)

The next few months passed as new routines became the everyday. Your daughter continued to excel in her studies, and you dutifully signed the tests, all with high grades and glowing remarks. You managed to hide the smirk on your face whenever the bold and strong handwriting of one James Barnes, 8th Grade History Teacher, was displayed for your approval.

You signed next to his praises.

'Great job!'

'Excellent!'

You imagined him reading over her work, smiling as he marked it, and tried not to sigh.

This wouldn't do. You were a fully functioning adult woman - with a crush on your daughter's teacher - and you were still mooning over him after seeing him once two months ago and without sharing a single word with him.

All that was about to change.

'Your parent teacher conference is scheduled for...'

Panic.

No. This was ridiculous. You'd be fine. Still, you dressed far too nicely, touched up your make-up, kept your heels on even after a long day of work.

Yes. Ridiculous.

You sat on the chair outside his classroom, heels tap-tap-tapping a nervous rhythm on the floor. When the door opened you jumped, and tried to recover before he looked over, saying his farewells to the parent before you. Smiling confidently (you hoped), you rose from the chair and shook his outstretched hand.

"It's nice to meet you," he ushered you in to the classroom, closing the door and indicating the chair in front of his desk. "I don't think we actually met at Meet The Teacher night."

"We didn't," you replied, sitting down. "That event was not as advertised, in our case."

He laughed, even though you thought it was a pretty lousy joke.

Mr. Barnes sat opposite you, and adjusted his glasses after opening the folder with your daughter's classwork. His hands looked strong, his shirt stretched over his arms and chest - what did this guy do in his spare time? His eyes were an even brighter blue than you remembered, especially now that you were so much closer to him than you had been before. You could just catch a whiff of his cologne, and as he flipped through the papers you stared at the stubble covering his jawline before you snapped out of your trance.

This whole reverie took less than a minute, and you felt drunk. How in the world did thirteen year olds consumed by hormones concentrate around this man??

"Your daughter is certainly a great student. She's projected to have a 100 average in my class for this quarter, and she is, as we like to say, 'a pleasure to have in class'," he smiled over the paper at you and you felt your skin heat up, both from your physical reaction to him and your pride in your offspring.

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes. I'm very lucky with her."

"Do you have any questions for me?" He sat back from the desk a bit, his attention firmly focused on you.

Can I have your number? "No...no. I'm good."

You were a stammering mess. If he noticed, he didn't draw attention to it. "Well, I'm sorry to make this so short, but besides spending more time complimenting your daughter, and you on the wonderful job you've done raising her, we're done for tonight." You were entranced for a second watching him drum him fingers on the folder, and then your eyes flew back up to meet his as he questioned, "So when will I see you?"

"Ex-excuse me?"

He swept right past your clumsy reply. "When will I see you as a parent volunteer? We've had a couple of events already. I'm pretty sure I haven't seen you since Meet The Teacher night."

"Well," you stumbled over your words a little again, "it's a little difficult to make time when you're a single working mother." You thought you saw something drift through his expression at your words, just a fraction of a second, and you continued, "but I'd love to help out. I would need a lot of notice to arrange my schedule."

"I'll make sure you get notice. I'd like to see you around more."

Your breath stuttered in your throat and you blinked your eyes a couple of times. Was that a sly little smile dancing on his lips, for a moment? Before you could dwell on it he was standing, and you were too. He was shaking your hand, putting his other hand over yours before letting go, and you were saying goodbye and feeling like you were walking underwater down the hallways and out the door of the school to your car. You put your bag on the passenger seat, buckled your seatbelt, gripped the steering wheel and stared out the windshield, a silly grin beginning to spread across your face.

Did Mr. Barnes just flirt with you?

[starbuckie]

𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐰

challenge: 200 followers challenge by @angrybirdcr

prompt: “there may have been a slight misunderstanding, but nothing we can’t fix.” and locked in the trunk of a car

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 5,504 words

warnings: post-endgame, bucky’s kinda a dick, enemies to friends(?), swearing, angst, mentions of violence, talk about sexual assault, guns, bickering, jealousy

summary: bucky had been adjusting to the new familiarity of having a stable routine, right until she walked in.

a/n: I DON’T NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO MARVEL. okay, great, done that, but congratulations on 200 followers!! i had so much fun taking part in your writing challenge, so thank you so much. imma be honest, there’s not a lot of romance in this, it’s some enemies to friends type of shit and i genuinely did not think this fic would get so angsty and dark and actually long, but i had an idea and ran with it mid way through the old fic with this prompt. also i had an idea for an epilogue to this, so tell me if you want that part 2 because i am on the verge of writing it. this is not proofread by a beta, but i edited it myself and hope it is okay. anyways, now that we’re done with that, please enjoy this rollercoaster of a fanfic i’ve written.

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Life in the twenty-first century was strange, Bucky concluded. Though he’d been free of HYDRA for around nine years technically, being a fugitive and in another realm didn’t give him much time to learn about the modern world. As soon as he came back, Steve had left him and he had to move on without his childhood best friend. It was hard for him to adjust to this century, with the new rules and the whole scene in general, but he seemed to make it through just fine. He’d come to peace with the fact that there was no escaping the fighting at all, falling into a steady routine that became his holy grail. 

In the new Avengers compound in Upstate New York he felt content and more sure of himself than he’d felt in a very long time. Everyone in the tower was quiet and kept to themselves mostly, still dealing with the aftermath of losing so much in so little time. But in that silence Bucky felt like a free man, able to walk around without fear of being hunted down every second and time to really look about this new world.

There were still times when he woke up in a sweaty panic, disoriented and terrified until he realized he was in the safety of his room in the compound. He’d flinch at loud noises in the quiet and his heart would stop, something that went by unnoticed by everyone else, though he didn’t blame them for it. Bucky felt extreme guilt for the horrible things he had done as the Winter Soldier, memories of bloodied and dead bodies, bodies he had made fall to the ground motionless. It wasn’t him, he knew, but his hand still had pulled the trigger. When he found something new a smile would split across his face, ready to tell Steve what he had discovered, until he remembered that the rambunctious blond boy was gone, a wrinkled grey man with a new family in his place. It still hurt him to think that he had left him so easily, with barely a goodbye. Bucky still had days where he felt so incredibly tired, left still on his bed as horrible thoughts ran through his mind, anxious about the future.

But then he found new things everyday, things that seemed to outweigh the bad by a whole lot. He’d found cool ranch Doritos were the best chips and that he really liked the season of fall with the leaves falling around him as he took a serene walk. He found that he really loved Frozen, the songs and Sven the reindeer making him crack a smile every time he watched it. He found that he could sleep in on his days without missions and Wanda liked her pancakes with an unhealthy amount of syrup on the side to dunk them in. He found that Sam was actually really funny, always making the worst puns or the dirtiest jokes at the most inappropriate of times. He found a new sense of respect and warmth in the family they’d built together, learning how to go on without those that they loved. He found that he was really enjoying his new routine and his new sense of peace with himself.

All until she walked in.

Bucky could still remember the exact moment she flipped their world upside down. Sharon had fawned over her, talking about one of her old SHIELD buddies who was finally coming back to the states. After the organization fell in 2014, Y/N L/N fled to Hawaii, running away to the one place she knew no one would find her. She was done fighting, or that’s what she believed until Thanos showed up. 

It was shameful, really, that Y/N was aware of all the problems that went on, yet did nothing to help. They needed her help, she knew they did, but she couldn’t bring yourself to go help her friends. Originally she was trying for a settled down life, planning to retire from the constant fighting, but after a few failed relationships Y/N realized that she wasn't cut out for that white picket fence life. Those had just been the dreams of a fourteen year old Y/N L/N, left empty and hollow by the horrors she had seen during her time at SHIELD. There was nothing left waiting for her, no family, no friends, but she was too stubborn to get back into the fight, so she stayed in her humid Oahu apartment and waited for something interesting to happen.

Well, maybe Y/N shouldn’t have wished so hard, that “interesting thing” showing up in the form of being snapped out of existence by a large, purple grape.

When she came back she felt nearly indifferent, knowing that five years had passed by her, and though Y/N felt nothing but emptiness she knew that it was time to go back. It was her duty when she had joined SHIELD to always be there and protect, and she had failed that job. But Y/N was more than ready to make up for it. Nothing like Thanos could ever happen again, so she called Sharon, one of her closest friends and previous commanding supervisor at the organization. She was ecstatic to have Y/N back, probably a bit too much, and before she could have second thoughts the girl was on a plane overlooking JFK, ready to land in New York.

So when Y/N walked in, with a tight-lipped smile and butterflies anxiously fluttering in her stomach, Bucky couldn’t help but despise her. Maybe he had formed his opinion off of Sharon’s explanation of her past, but Y/N got the life of settling down that he didn’t and he was infuriatingly jealous. 

“Hey, Bucky, Sam, come meet Y/N!” Sharon said excitedly. Her hair was put back in a headband neatly, two suitcases in hand as she looked at the two tall, muscular men. Of course Y/N recognized both of them, she hadn’t been living under a rock. Keeping up with the news of the Avengers and remaining SHIELD officers had been one of the only things keeping her from coming back, hearing of the terrible fights and destruction done to whole cities. She recognized Sam Wilson, the infamous Falcon being marked down as a “war criminal” in 2016. She never believed that crap, if he and half of the other Avengers were locked up there had to be a good reason behind it.

Then, there was James Buchanan Barnes. Now, she knew him from her eighth grade American history books, reading about the brave Howling Commando who had given up his life for saving the country, but Y/N knew him better as the Winter Soldier from her time at SHIELD. The fight in 2014 had been brutal, hectic in all forms, but she’d caught a few glances at the metal-armed man. He hadn't been in his normal state, with being controlled and tortured by HYDRA at the time, but the kid inside of her freaked out, remembering memories of gossiping with her friends about how hot he was in the textbooks and how much of a hero he was. That man was still in there somewhere, hidden by decades of reprogramming and mind-wiping, and Y/N was finally seeing him in the flesh. She would be working with him daily, living in the same space as him. The thought made her giddy like a middle schooler with her first crush,though his presence was intimidating as well.

“Hi there, I’m Y/N L/N, it’s a pleasure to be working with you.” Sticking out her hand, she gave a bright smile, already growing out of her nervous state. 

Sam quickly shook Y/N’s hand, giving a warm greeting in response to her introduction. Then she turned to Bucky. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

His cold, dead glare locked onto Y/N, staring straight through her soul. It felt like he could see every insecurity and guilty action she had, and she didn’t like it one bit. “That’s Sergeant Barnes to you.” Without another word, he walked out of the room like a petulant child, leaving Sharon, Sam, and Y/N flabbergasted. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, he’s usually more friendly than that, I’ll go check in on him,” Sharon furiously said with a painfully fake smile. Sam grabbed the new girl by the arm, linking it with his own and led her in another direction as he explained the usual training routine and schedule for the week. 

And while she was completely enraptured by Sam’s comforting words and the exciting compound, her heart still felt heavy from Sergeant Barnes’ cold greeting. 

-

She had tried to be nice. She really had. But after two months it was pretty clear Sergeant Barnes wasn’t getting any better, and Y/N was beyond pissed off. Childish, is what he was being, fucking childish. 

It started off with leaving every room she came into, blatantly ignoring her presence. When she would say hello every morning he’d grunt or even worse, he wouldn’t answer her at all. Y/N had begged Sharon if she knew why the sergeant was acting up, but she didn’t know either and just asked her to ignore him and his “crappy, old-man behaviour”. Sam wasn’t very helpful to Y/N’s cause either, but he was a great mentor and an even better teacher.

Sharon was really the only person Y/N had in her phone, her parents dead and no boyfriend accounted for. The rest of her family had wanted nothing to do with her when she joined SHIELD, but that was okay with her. She knew what she had gotten herself into, and it was an extreme risk to even be acquaintances with her. But now, living with several others in a compound that seemed so large after the great loss, Y/N became part of their family as well. 

It was nice to have friends again, as years of solitude on an island where she knew nobody had made her nearly desperate for more human interaction than with the teenagers who worked the cash registers at the grocery store. Y/N became an integral part of the Avengers (she could actually say that aloud now), going on missions and kicking ass just like she used to. Of course, Sergeant Barnes’ behaviour in and out of missions stayed the same, but she usually tried her best to not take it to heart and move on. After all, she couldn’t have everyone like her.

But one day they both snapped.

Y/N was sitting with Sharon and Wanda, eating lunch and talking over their most recent mission with them and Barnes in Cairo. It hadn’t been a necessarily bad mission, per se, but she had run back into the building to get Wanda out from under a fallen pillar, which apparently was “severely dangerous”. Looking back, she could see how it was, putting her entire team’s secrecy and mission in volatile danger, but Wanda was like her sister and in Y/N’s heart she knew that she had to. Bucky had had to grab them both, nearly dragging her back to the jet before the building had collapsed. He’d been beyond angry with Y/N for the stupid decision, but when they landed he just huffed and stomped away. The redhead was grateful for her and so was Sharon, but lunch was just for a simple stern talking about mission protocols. 

“Y/N, I know that you’re a fantastic agent and even better friend, but when we’re on missions we need that agent. You can’t let your feelings and outside life get in the way of our objective.” Sharon said in a firm voice. Y/N dropped her head in her hands and rubbed her face tiredly.

“I know, Sharon, I’m sorry, Wanda could’ve probably gotten herself out but I just let my instincts act too fast and ran back in without another thought.” She groaned. “Plus, I just caused more damage than anything else. It won’t happen again, I promise.” Wanda and Sharon nodded in understanding just as the Asshole Supreme walked into the kitchen.

“You talking ‘bout how Y/N fucked up the mission yesterday?” Sergeant Barnes grunted. While Sharon and Wanda gasped in shock, Y/N’s eyes were trained at the plate on the table in front of her, not daring to make a sound. She muttered out a sorry and got up to put her dish in the sink. As long as he was here, he was going to make her life a living hell, and as much as she wanted to lash out, it would be cause for her dismissal from the team. While her old, solitary life was what she had once dreamed of, Y/N now saw her future among these people, this family, somewhere she finally felt a part of despite Barnes’ horrid behaviour. “Sorry?” He scoffed, “Sorry doesn’t make up for the fact that I had to run back in for you. Sorry doesn’t make up for the extreme risks we all pull to save your ass out in the field.”

“Bucky, stop.” Sharon yelled.

But he ignored her words and sauntered over to Y/N with a knowing smirk, leaning down to meet her level. His warm breath hit her face and she could stare into his deep eyes, swirling like a raging storm of blues and greys. “You shouldn’t even be out there, L/N. I mean, you haven’t had training in years, it’s not like you were anything special either. Just another agent, hoping to get to work in the big leagues.”

“Shut up.” Y/N whispered meekly. Tears were just barely being held in, her chest feeling empty and hollow with anger and guilt. Is this what it felt like to want to kill someone with so much vengeance? 

“Where were you when Thanos came? Where were you, L/N? We needed all the help we could get, but there you are, in fucking Hawaii, with you little fucking margaritas on the fucking beach-”

“Shut the fuck up!” She screamed. The room went dead silent with her voice. None of the team had seen Y/N look so angry, so sad, so vulnerable, at one time. It was easy for her to hide her emotions and Wanda refrained from trying to toy with her mind, but shame was overwhelming the girl by the second and Sergeant Barnes was right, as much as she didn’t want to say it. She was a coward, thinking she could run away from the “hero life” so easily. They’d caught her, and Barnes was making her face that truth right now. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I know, that I was absolutely scared shitless of returning here, facing all of you after what you endured for so long?” 

Y/N took a deep breath, laughing mirthlessly as tears ran hot down her cheeks. “I’m sorry that I came back, I really am, but I’m trying my damn best to make up for what I did. Being scared is no excuse for why I ran away, I was fucking terrified of having one more thing to lose. My family is dead, SHIELD fell, and I had no one to lean on so I ran as far as I fucking could. But I’m back now, I’m ready to serve up to what I left behind, and you better fucking deal with it because this,” she jabbed a finger into his broad chest, “is not fucking it. I’m not going to live with your shitty behaviour anymore, Barnes.”

He, Wanda, and Sharon all watched as she slammed the plate into the sink, storming out of the room. They could hear her door slam shut, and the two women glared at Bucky.

“What the hell is your problem, Barnes” Wanda hissed in a scarily low voice. Fuck. He knew he’d messed up then, gone farther than he ever dared to with insulting Y/N, and both of the women were severely overprotective of the new Avenger. 

Sharon walked up to Bucky with large strides, delivering a slap to the side of his head. Yeah, he definitely deserved that. It was dead silent in the kitchen, the tension still high strung from the fight seconds before. “You better go apologize, Barnes, I swear to God this has gotten far too out of hand. You two have a mission tomorrow, estimated a month, and wheels are up at 2300 hours. I need you two to go get the intel quietly and undetected and we can’t have both of you arguing the whole damn time, so you better fix things by then.”

The blonde agent walked away, Wanda trailing behind her, but not without the middle finger from both of them. A mission? Tomorrow? With Y/N? This was going to be horrible. Bucky ran a hand over his face and trudged off to his room. 

It was going to be a long month.

-

Y/N stared out of the window as they flew over the clouds above the Mediteranean Sea. Eleven in the morning in Italy gave a clear view of the skies, light blue as far as she could see. They were ready to start their descent into Azzano and the woman glanced to the man beside her, his stormy blue eyes glaring in any direction but hers. The sergeant had avoided her all he could up until they boarded the jet, and even then he only spoke to her when necessary. “Hey, Barnes, we’re starting to descend, go get ready.”

The brunette looked over to Y/N and grunted in response. Oh well, it was better than him yelling at her. His little outburst in the kitchen had her pissed at him more than ever, but the words thrown around still rung true in her head. But now wasn’t the time to think about that.

She paid careful attention to where she was supposed to land, a shaded facility almost five miles south of where they had to get the intel from an old, but rebuilt HYDRA base. The same base where James Buchanan Barnes was once held captive, experimented on and tortured until Steve Rogers came to save him. Y/N didn’t care much for Barnes usually, but she also didn’t know how he’d react to being in a location with such horrible memories attached to it. They had both been at the mission briefing the day before of course, he knew what it entailed and he seemed unfazed, and he was always good at hiding his emotions. As the jet touched down finally, the agent thought back. Well, sometimes he was good at hiding his emotions.

Making sure her comm fit snugly in her ear, Y/N unbuckled herself from the seat, heading back towards the wall of weaponry they kept in the back of the jet. Barnes was already there dressed in hs black kevlar tactical suit, hugging his body nicely and vibranium arm on display. When he was around her he tried to hide it, and she saw him joking around and being comfortable in other’s presence with it out, wondering what made her so different. She personally found it fascinating, the beauty of the gold and black metal with the incredible Wakandan technology, but she respected his privacy and tried to not think too much about it. 

Y/N threw a vest on over her own navy blue tac suit, tightening her combat boots before she fully zipped up. Were they finally ready?

Three guns perched in holsters by her waist.

Two taps to her earpiece and Barnes’ breathing in her ear.

One mutual nod with the sergeant himself, and they were off, slowly making their way to grab the intel, not a trace to be left behind. 

-

Getting stuck in the trunk of a car was not in the plan. It definitely wasn’t. Bucky remembered every single inch and cranny of that meticulously planned out schedule, every move, every kill they had to make, but not once was it mentioned that Y/N was to get stuck in Baron Zemo’s car without any weapons on her.

“L/N, what the hell do you mean you’re in the back of Zemo’s car.” He seethed, already searching frantically around the large remains of the building for her. It had gone smoothly, she was just supposed to quickly check inside his car as he searched the base. It’ll be so much quicker if I do it, L/N, is what he had said, but now he regretted it. Like the incompetent fool she was, she was spotted and ended up shooting out half of Zemo’s goonies before dropping all her weapons to the ground and running when she ran out of ammunition.

“There may have been a slight misunderstanding,” Y/N whispered into her comm, “but nothing we can’t fix! Just come find me, Barnes, and all will be well.”

She could hear his angry curses and jostling, which she assumed he was running to come find her. It wasn’t entirely Y/N’s fault she had run out of ammo. Some of it must have fallen from her pockets during the shootout and when she saw the car she thought it’d be the perfect place to hide. Until she realized that no one else was at the partially burned down HYDRA base besides Baron Zemo, the person who Sharon had told her to avoid at all costs, and she was in his damn car. Practically her death note.

“If you had just listened to me you wouldn’t have been caught!” Bucky furiously whispered through the comms. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, though he couldn’t even see her, and groaned. “I did listen to you, Barnes, I checked the damn car, but we weren’t expecting his guards to find me so I killed them and hid. Is that actually so bad?” 

“Yes it is!’ He explained. “Give me your coordinates.” She checked the small watch on her wrist, pushing a button on the side that gave a small holographic image of the time and her coordinates on a world wide map. Reciting them for him, Bucky followed, continuing to berate her as he did so. “And you’re right, L/N, I asked you to check the car, not fucking jump inside it!”

This time Bucky could envision her rolling her eyes as she groaned even louder in very Y/N L/N fashion. “Would you rather I be dead?” She asked. It had been a few seconds, but she still received no response. “Barnes?” Crackling. “Sergeant?” Absolute nothingness. “Sarge?”

The trunk of the car opened as the woman let out a squeak, the broad frame of James Barnes hovering above her, some dirt smudged around the annoyed expression on his face. “Don’t call me that.” He grumbled.

He reached his hand towards her, grasping her own tightly before pulling her to a sitting position. “Why, you had all the ladies calling you that back in the day?” She mimicked a much higher tone, nearly resembling Snow White if the princess were high on drugs and had a Brooklyn accent. “Hey, Sarge, we goin’ dancing? Sarge, you goin’ to give me some sweet lovin’ tonight? Oh, how I’d just love for you to shove your fat, ugly head up your a-”

A loud beeping from his wristwatch cut her off. With a glare, the man let go of Y/N’s hand, checking to see what the problem was. A small red tracker on the map moved, and both of them knew they were in deep shit. “Crap, Zemo’s coming this way. That’s one of the trackers I set up on the ground and we gotta go quick.”

Faint whistling from Baron Zemo made both of them panic as Bucky tackled her back down and quickly shut the door behind him. Footsteps were approaching, the whistling getting louder and a door opening let the two Avengers know that they couldn’t get out anytime soon. Y/N could feel Bucky’s racing heart against her chest, hers beating just as fast. He turned to face her, a lot closer than both of them expected, lips dangerously close and noses nudging against each other. Ther breaths mixed together, the hot air of the car doing nothing to help her current close quarters with the man. 

“Can you bust us out of here?” She whispered hurriedly, rather uncomfortable with the present situation.

“We’ll die if we leave now. He’s much more prepared than we thought and with half his men down he knows something is up. Zemo wasn’t even supposed to know we were here so we’re far too unprepared and you lost your damn weapons. There’s no way we can go out so we’re going to stick in here until he gets out.”

Truth be told, Bucky was terrified and had no clue what to do next. Being stuck in a small confined space with Y/N had to be his worst nightmare, especially after he didn’t apologize for his shitty behavior last night. And the night before. 

And the several months before that.

From his view Y/N seemed to be uncomfortable and as the car started moving, she wiggled around, struggling to get as far away from Bucky as she could. He too was extremely uncomfortable, but as her wriggling continued, his already tight fitting pants seemed to get even impossible tighter as she practically grinded on him. 

“Would you stop squirming around?” Y/N shot him what would’ve been a questioning glance if not for the pitch blackness of the trunk, and heard his loud sigh, warm breath fanning across her face. “I’m sorry, I’m having a situation, uh, down there and your wiggling isn’t helping it too much.”

Her face heated up, not knowing what to feel after he said that. Was he… flustered? Y/N had never seen Bucky Barnes anything less than grumpy or professional before.

When she said nothing, he assumed the worst and thought she saw him as a disgusting and creepy person. Before that moment he’d never had any particular care about how Y/N felt, but he knew that there were still a lot of perverts, if not more perverts than back in his day. With his four little sisters always getting catcalled and the crude men who thought women were their property, Bucky knew it was definitely terrifying to be assaulted or any situation such as this. 

There wasn’t much he could do, but he shifted so they weren’t lying down hip bone to hip bone. “Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, I don’t want you to think I’m a pervert or anything, it’s just been a while since I, well, y’know…”

“I understand, Barnes, but thank you for apologizing.” Y/N said carefully. It was weird to hear the now shy and surprisingly considerate sergeant apologize to her, but she had to admit that her respect for him had gone up. 

He cleared his throat in return, trying to turn in any other direction besides hers as they listened to the tires of the car bumping along the road, heart wildly thumping. 

It was quiet. Far more quiet than it had ever been when either of them were in the same room. As Y/N stared down at Bucky’s head, almost resting on her stomach, she saw the man she’d read about in middle school. For a moment she was able to look past the last few months of fighting and hatred, and see the noble sergeant she’d admired for so long. 

“You can rest your head if you want to, I knew keeping it up like that must be hurting your neck. I promise I’m okay with it.” She reassured him. With a small hesitation, Barnes submitted to his screaming neck muscles and laid his head on her stomach, the vest providing cushion. A few more seconds of silence and gathering courage, and she finally asked him the question she had been wondering since her first day at the compound. “Why do you hate me?”

I’m jealous, he wanted to say, but he wasn’t brave enough to say it. With a small sigh, he managed to get out, “I don’t.”

“Then why are you so cold to me all the time?” Emotions that were borrowed so deep inside Y/N’s chest seemed to come barreling out, seeping into every question that she asked. “Am I really that horrible an agent? Do you not think I’m trying my best? I know I made a mistake, I wasn’t there when you all needed me, but I’m trying so, so damn hard to make up for it. I swear on my life, and every one that comes after it, that I’m-”

“It’s not you, it’s me, God damn it!” Bucky exclaimed angrily. Both of their blood ran cold in fear that Zemo might have heard them, but the radio continued to drone on in the background, nothing seeming to have changed. He took a deep sigh and tried how to best explain it to her. Even though he’d probably never have Y/N’s forgiveness for insulting her so plainly and hurting her so much, he felt as though she deserved as much as his reasoning as to why he “disliked” her so much. It was difficult for him to say, having to also put his pride away for once to just admit it. “I’m jealous of you, Y/N. You got the sweet life for a while, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. When you look at us who remain, not a single one of us was planning to be an Avenger. You were getting the dream home, the kids, the family that I’ve wanted since I was a boy back in Brooklyn, and all you had to do to get it was run away. It was so simple.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, not at all expecting that. “It wasn’t all too much ‘sweet life’, you know? It was my dream when I was younger, I thought being an agent was temporary and then I’d move into a big, old house with a loving spouse and have millions of little carbon copies of myself to occupy my days. But the truth about what we do is that we can only stay away from it for so long, Barnes. With people like us,” she squeezed her eyes shut, letting the final tears roll down her cheeks, “there’s no running away from the hero's life. It's just who we are. We’ve already done too much to change that part of our lives.” 

Y/N felt him nod through the fabric on her skin, sniffles letting her know that he was crying too. They were connected. All the shouting, all the yelling, the pain, the battles, the fore, the blood, the years of torture, all led to this moment. This historic moment in Y/N and Bucky’s relationship where they both waved white flags, wet faces and hearts filled with sorrow for the life they never had. 

“I’m so sorry for the way I dealt with my anger and jealousy, Y/N.” Bucky croaked. 

“I used to idolize you when I was a kid.” Y/N recalled with a faint smile on her face. “In the eighth grade I wrote a history paper on you, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, American hero and inspiration to all. And you know, I always kinda had a crush on you. Wondered what it would be like if you were still alive, if you would’ve gone home after the war, if you would’ve had a family. No matter what wild thoughts ran through my head, though, you were always my hero.” Bucky took her confession in shock, pure amazement and surprise coursing through his body. Maybe a little bit of sadness, longing for that old life, maybe a bit of bashfulness of her having a crush on his as a schoolgirl. “And then I met you and you were this grumpy, irritable old man who seemed to despise me as soon as I walked in the door. Definitely not what I had expected.” He opened his mouth, ready to apologize again, when her next words cut him off. “I want to start over, don’t you?”

How was she so calming? Her words were exactly what he needed to hear and didn’t need to at the same time. Her voice brought back all the old memories of running around New York with Steve as a kid, reminding him of his wise ma in a way. “There’s nothing I’d like more than that, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled to herself, looking towards the top of the car. “Perfect.”

And with the twinkle in her eye and his head resting on her stomach with a small grin, it really was.

[biofunmy]

Wyckoff, N.J.: A Peaceful Suburb With a Sense of Community

Daniela Panetta is from Westchester County and her fiancé, Rob Cappadora, is from Long Island, but when they decided to buy a home they chose Wyckoff, a leafy township in northwest Bergen County, N.J., that they discovered after visiting a friend nearby.

“Wyckoff had such a neighborhood feel and just felt so peaceful,” said Mr. Cappadora, 28, a financial adviser who works on the Upper West Side of Manhattan.

Ms. Panetta, 30, a paralegal, said that seeing children at the petting zoo at Abma’s Farm made it easy to envision raising a family in this township of 17,000, about 27 miles northwest of Times Square. The couple, who plan to marry in October 2020, recently paid $900,000 for a 1969 colonial with four bedrooms in the Sicomac section of Wyckoff.

These days, many Wyckoff buyers are young couples moving from other parts of the metropolitan area, said Adam DeFino, the broker and owner of DeFino Realtors, in Wyckoff.

“People like the schools, and taxes are on the fair side compared to some other towns,” Mr. DeFino said. “The local government has always done a good job of keeping costs in check.”

Melissa D. Rubenstein, a member of the Wyckoff Township Committee and a real estate agent with Keller Williams, said the government keeps tax rates manageable by holding down debt levels. It also helps that the township shares a regional high school district with two neighboring boroughs, Franklin Lakes and Oakland.

Wyckoff is the kind of place where children bicycle around the neighborhood and residents get to know business owners, said David Cantinieri, 39, who works in law enforcement.

“We shop local in town,” said his wife, Taryn Cantinieri, 34, a nurse, who grew up there. “It’s nice to see a friendly face.”

The couple, who met as students working part-time in a Wyckoff supermarket, bought their first house there in 2011, then spent $620,000 last August to trade up to a four-bedroom colonial after their third child was born.

Joey and Patrick O’Connell recently moved to Wyckoff from Montgomery County, Md., after Mr. O’Connell, 34, a sales manager for an orthopedics company, was transferred. They paid $895,000 for their new home.

Their older son, who is 8, attended a regional Catholic school in Maryland, but the family chose public schools in Wyckoff because of their good reputation. Now, their two sons’ classmates live nearby instead of in other towns, said Ms. O’Connell, 38, who runs a crafts business: “It really helps them create these new friendships.”

There is little room for development in the township, but the Christian Health Care Center, which offers nursing care and rehabilitation services, is building 199 senior independent-living apartments on its campus, which straddles Wyckoff and Hawthorne. The project was proposed a decade ago, and faced opposition over concerns about traffic and the loss of wooded areas on the site. After changes were made to the plan, the building was approved, and it is expected to open at the end of 2020.

“It’s allowing our residents to retire within our community,” Ms. Rubenstein said.

What You’ll Find

Wyckoff, which covers 6.5 square miles, has housing stock that was mostly built in the decades after World War II, with a lot of ranches, split-levels, colonials and other 1960s and 1970s styles. Sales are steady in the under-$1 million market, but slower at the high end, real estate agents said.

Wyckoff is largely a single-family market, with few condos or rentals, said Sergio Sciortino, an agent with Keller Williams, who lives in town.

And while it has a small-town atmosphere, Wyckoff offers easy access to highways, including Route 17 and Route 208. “You can be at the mall in a few minutes,” said Maryanne Elsaesser, an agent with Christie’s International Real Estate in Franklin Lakes and a longtime resident of Wyckoff.

What You’ll Pay

The most active part of the market is between $600,000 and $800,000, Mr. DeFino said.

Prices of single-family homes rose 7.6 percent last year, to a median of $726,000, according to the New Jersey Multiple Listing Service, and 185 single-family homes sold in 2019, down from 205 in 2018.

A recent check of the multiple listing service and Zillow found about 70 homes on the market, from a Cape Cod listed for $450,000 to a newly built ranch with a pool and tennis court on over an acre of land, listed for $2.2 million.

The Vibe

Wyckoff offers quiet, shady neighborhoods and a downtown that centers on Wyckoff Avenue and Franklin Avenue, and includes the recently expanded Boulder Run shopping center.

Dining options include the Brick House, Blue Moon Mexican Cafe, Aldo’s and the Barn, a rustic restaurant in an 1876 dairy barn.

Although there is no municipal pool, the Wyckoff Family YMCA offers Spring Lake, a sandy pond just off Wyckoff Avenue, as well as two indoor pools.

For a walk in the woods, there is the James A. McFaul Environmental Center, an 81-acre Bergen County park on a former pig farm.

Bargain hunters like the Wyckoff PTO Economy Shop, a resale and consignment store founded in 1947 and run by Wyckoff’s parent-teacher organizations. The shop is in a historic train station in the heart of the township and donates all its profits to the local schools.

The shop has created a sense of community that keeps many volunteers coming in even after their children have graduated, said Sarah Renner, a co-president of the Economy Shop. “Once you start, you keep coming back,” Ms. Renner said.

The Schools

The Wyckoff school district serves about 2,000 children in prekindergarten through eighth grade, in four elementary schools and one middle school.

Ninth- through 12th-graders are served by the Ramapo Indian Hills school district, which has about 2,300 students and also serves nearby Franklin Lakes and Oakland.

High school students can attend Indian Hills High School in Oakland or Ramapo High School in Franklin Lakes. On the SAT tests in 2017-18, students at the two schools scored an average of 585 in reading and writing and 578 in math, compared with statewide averages of 542 and 543. About 92 percent of graduates continued to college.

The Commute

The rush-hour commute from Wyckoff to the Port Authority Bus Terminal in Manhattan takes about 50 minutes on Coach USA buses. The fare is $9.75 one way, or $244.35 for 40 trips.

The township is not on the commuter rail line, but residents can drive to nearby Ridgewood to catch New Jersey Transit trains into New York. The trip from Ridgewood to Penn Station takes about 50 to 60 minutes and costs $9.75 each way, or $298 a month.

For those who prefer to drive, Wyckoff is on Route 208, a state highway that slices through the township and connects to Route 4 (for those heading to New York) or Interstate 287 (for suburban destinations). The drive to New York at rush hour can take an hour or two, depending on traffic.

The History

Constance Kopp, who lived on a Wyckoff farm with her sisters in the early 20th century, was Bergen County’s first female sheriff’s deputy. Ms. Kopp was drawn to crime-fighting after a car driven by a Paterson industrialist rammed her buggy; when she tried to collect damages, the factory owner and his associates sent threatening letters and sprayed the sisters’ home with bullets. The Bergen County sheriff armed the Kopps for self-protection and later appointed Ms. Kopp a deputy. The story is the basis for a series of novels by Amy Stewart, including “Girl Waits With Gun.”

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[eurynome827]

Back To School Night

Follow your eighth grader's schedule. Ten minute classes, five minutes between periods to get to the next class. Just what you wanted, a chance to go back to middle school for a night.

A kind science teacher, an unhinged art teacher, an energetic math teacher - up and down stairs and rushing from room to room, you were caught between wanting to be an enthusiastic parent and the wish to be home in a bubble bath with a glass of wine.

You skidded to a stop by a classroom on the hunt for history class and the man outside the door was head-turning handsome. That's one hot dad, you thought to yourself, double-checking the room number on your daughter's schedule. Room 117.

Mr. Handsome held the door open for you and you gave him a small smile as you ducked in and took a seat in the last row - old habits die hard. You glanced over the syllabus from Mr. Barnes and looked up as the bell rang.

"Welcome, parents," Mr. Handsome said with a warm smile. "I'm James Barnes, and this is 8th Grade History."

Oh no.

At some point you didn't even hear the words coming out of his mouth anymore, you were so swoony. Before you knew it, the bell was ringing and you quickly grabbed the syllabus and your folder and rushed out of the room, thankful that other parents were asking questions. You spent the rest of meet the teacher night stumbling from classroom to classroom thinking about him - his blue eyes and confident way of addressing the room and... everything.

You walked into your house and dropped your bag on the floor, heading to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. In bounces your daughter, all smiles.

"How was it? Who's your favorite teacher?"

This was going to be a long school year.

Should this be a thing?

[eurynome827]

Back to school night😍🤤

😂 This one resurfaced with a vengeance this week, huh? That's the best way to push something to the head of the line! They'll be more of eighth grade history teacher James Barnes some time soon!

Read Back To School Night

[eurynome827]

Back to School Night😍😍😍

Is this a vote for more? 😘

[eurynome827]

Thank you for all your comments last night @lolipop9090 ❤️

For this one, there is more!

Back To School Night

Follow your eighth grader's schedule. Ten minute classes, five minutes between periods to get to the next class. Just what you wanted, a chance to go back to middle school for a night.

A kind science teacher, an unhinged art teacher, an energetic math teacher - up and down stairs and rushing from room to room, you were caught between wanting to be an enthusiastic parent and the wish to be home in a bubble bath with a glass of wine.

You skidded to a stop by a classroom on the hunt for history class and the man outside the door was head-turning handsome. That's one hot dad, you thought to yourself, double-checking the room number on your daughter's schedule. Room 117.

Mr. Handsome held the door open for you and you gave him a small smile as you ducked in and took a seat in the last row - old habits die hard. You glanced over the syllabus from Mr. Barnes and looked up as the bell rang.

"Welcome, parents," Mr. Handsome said with a warm smile. "I'm James Barnes, and this is 8th Grade History."

Oh no.

At some point you didn't even hear the words coming out of his mouth anymore, you were so swoony. Before you knew it, the bell was ringing and you quickly grabbed the syllabus and your folder and rushed out of the room, thankful that other parents were asking questions. You spent the rest of meet the teacher night stumbling from classroom to classroom thinking about him - his blue eyes and confident way of addressing the room and... everything.

You walked into your house and dropped your bag on the floor, heading to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. In bounces your daughter, all smiles.

"How was it? Who's your favorite teacher?"

This was going to be a long school year.

Should this be a thing?

[eurynome827]

Hey @dont-need-another-fandom @sammyslonglostshoe @natcad @lemonster120 @buckysbrat @bookgirlunicornrec @nerd-without-a-cause @kathrynwynterbourne @peaches-roses-sins ....watch this space in the next few minutes 😉

Back To School Night

Follow your eighth grader's schedule. Ten minute classes, five minutes between periods to get to the next class. Just what you wanted, a chance to go back to middle school for a night.

A kind science teacher, an unhinged art teacher, an energetic math teacher - up and down stairs and rushing from room to room, you were caught between wanting to be an enthusiastic parent and the wish to be home in a bubble bath with a glass of wine.

You skidded to a stop by a classroom on the hunt for history class and the man outside the door was head-turning handsome. That's one hot dad, you thought to yourself, double-checking the room number on your daughter's schedule. Room 117.

Mr. Handsome held the door open for you and you gave him a small smile as you ducked in and took a seat in the last row - old habits die hard. You glanced over the syllabus from Mr. Barnes and looked up as the bell rang.

"Welcome, parents," Mr. Handsome said with a warm smile. "I'm James Barnes, and this is 8th Grade History."

Oh no.

At some point you didn't even hear the words coming out of his mouth anymore, you were so swoony. Before you knew it, the bell was ringing and you quickly grabbed the syllabus and your folder and rushed out of the room, thankful that other parents were asking questions. You spent the rest of meet the teacher night stumbling from classroom to classroom thinking about him - his blue eyes and confident way of addressing the room and... everything.

You walked into your house and dropped your bag on the floor, heading to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. In bounces your daughter, all smiles.

"How was it? Who's your favorite teacher?"

This was going to be a long school year.

Should this be a thing?

[jobean12-blog]

OH BUT YES! Eury you’ve made PT Confs something truly amazing and enjoyable for me...I’m in love! I wish I could live right here in that moment bc omg how perfect this was and he is❤️😁

Parent Teacher Conference

Read Part One: Back To School Night

(for @the-ss-horniest-book-club Back To School Week - today is Bucky's day, and it's been a year since I wrote that little drabble and asked if it should be A Thing™️)

The next few months passed as new routines became the everyday. Your daughter continued to excel in her studies, and you dutifully signed the tests, all with high grades and glowing remarks. You managed to hide the smirk on your face whenever the bold and strong handwriting of one James Barnes, 8th Grade History Teacher, was displayed for your approval.

You signed next to his praises.

'Great job!'

'Excellent!'

You imagined him reading over her work, smiling as he marked it, and tried not to sigh.

This wouldn't do. You were a fully functioning adult woman - with a crush on your daughter's teacher - and you were still mooning over him after seeing him once two months ago and without sharing a single word with him.

All that was about to change.

'Your parent teacher conference is scheduled for...'

Panic.

No. This was ridiculous. You'd be fine. Still, you dressed far too nicely, touched up your make-up, kept your heels on even after a long day of work.

Yes. Ridiculous.

You sat on the chair outside his classroom, heels tap-tap-tapping a nervous rhythm on the floor. When the door opened you jumped, and tried to recover before he looked over, saying his farewells to the parent before you. Smiling confidently (you hoped), you rose from the chair and shook his outstretched hand.

"It's nice to meet you," he ushered you in to the classroom, closing the door and indicating the chair in front of his desk. "I don't think we actually met at Meet The Teacher night."

"We didn't," you replied, sitting down. "That event was not as advertised, in our case."

He laughed, even though you thought it was a pretty lousy joke.

Mr. Barnes sat opposite you, and adjusted his glasses after opening the folder with your daughter's classwork. His hands looked strong, his shirt stretched over his arms and chest - what did this guy do in his spare time? His eyes were an even brighter blue than you remembered, especially now that you were so much closer to him than you had been before. You could just catch a whiff of his cologne, and as he flipped through the papers you stared at the stubble covering his jawline before you snapped out of your trance.

This whole reverie took less than a minute, and you felt drunk. How in the world did thirteen year olds consumed by hormones concentrate around this man??

"Your daughter is certainly a great student. She's projected to have a 100 average in my class for this quarter, and she is, as we like to say, 'a pleasure to have in class'," he smiled over the paper at you and you felt your skin heat up, both from your physical reaction to him and your pride in your offspring.

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes. I'm very lucky with her."

"Do you have any questions for me?" He sat back from the desk a bit, his attention firmly focused on you.

Can I have your number? "No...no. I'm good."

You were a stammering mess. If he noticed, he didn't draw attention to it. "Well, I'm sorry to make this so short, but besides spending more time complimenting your daughter, and you on the wonderful job you've done raising her, we're done for tonight." You were entranced for a second watching him drum him fingers on the folder, and then your eyes flew back up to meet his as he questioned, "So when will I see you?"

"Ex-excuse me?"

He swept right past your clumsy reply. "When will I see you as a parent volunteer? We've had a couple of events already. I'm pretty sure I haven't seen you since Meet The Teacher night."

"Well," you stumbled over your words a little again, "it's a little difficult to make time when you're a single working mother." You thought you saw something drift through his expression at your words, just a fraction of a second, and you continued, "but I'd love to help out. I would need a lot of notice to arrange my schedule."

"I'll make sure you get notice. I'd like to see you around more."

Your breath stuttered in your throat and you blinked your eyes a couple of times. Was that a sly little smile dancing on his lips, for a moment? Before you could dwell on it he was standing, and you were too. He was shaking your hand, putting his other hand over yours before letting go, and you were saying goodbye and feeling like you were walking underwater down the hallways and out the door of the school to your car. You put your bag on the passenger seat, buckled your seatbelt, gripped the steering wheel and stared out the windshield, a silly grin beginning to spread across your face.

Did Mr. Barnes just flirt with you?

[jobean12-blog]

THIS SHOULD BE A THING Eury!!! Omg! Fantastic😁

Back To School Night

Follow your eighth grader's schedule. Ten minute classes, five minutes between periods to get to the next class. Just what you wanted, a chance to go back to middle school for a night.

A kind science teacher, an unhinged art teacher, an energetic math teacher - up and down stairs and rushing from room to room, you were caught between wanting to be an enthusiastic parent and the wish to be home in a bubble bath with a glass of wine.

You skidded to a stop by a classroom on the hunt for history class and the man outside the door was head-turning handsome. That's one hot dad, you thought to yourself, double-checking the room number on your daughter's schedule. Room 117.

Mr. Handsome held the door open for you and you gave him a small smile as you ducked in and took a seat in the last row - old habits die hard. You glanced over the syllabus from Mr. Barnes and looked up as the bell rang.

"Welcome, parents," Mr. Handsome said with a warm smile. "I'm James Barnes, and this is 8th Grade History."

Oh no.

At some point you didn't even hear the words coming out of his mouth anymore, you were so swoony. Before you knew it, the bell was ringing and you quickly grabbed the syllabus and your folder and rushed out of the room, thankful that other parents were asking questions. You spent the rest of meet the teacher night stumbling from classroom to classroom thinking about him - his blue eyes and confident way of addressing the room and... everything.

You walked into your house and dropped your bag on the floor, heading to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. In bounces your daughter, all smiles.

"How was it? Who's your favorite teacher?"

This was going to be a long school year.

Tags: @cchellacat @book-dragon-13 @buckmesideways22 @cametobuyplums @marvelous-meggi @spacemansam @randomfandompenguin @loricameback @marvelandotherfandomimagines @buckysbrat @sallycanwait68 @jobean12-blog @jewelofwinter @collinsstanharbour @lancetuckersmustache @stuck-y-together @marvelgirl7 @southernbell91

Should this be a thing?

[eurynome827]

Oooffffff okay 😂 one day soon!

Back To School Night

Follow your eighth grader's schedule. Ten minute classes, five minutes between periods to get to the next class. Just what you wanted, a chance to go back to middle school for a night.

A kind science teacher, an unhinged art teacher, an energetic math teacher - up and down stairs and rushing from room to room, you were caught between wanting to be an enthusiastic parent and the wish to be home in a bubble bath with a glass of wine.

You skidded to a stop by a classroom on the hunt for history class and the man outside the door was head-turning handsome. That's one hot dad, you thought to yourself, double-checking the room number on your daughter's schedule. Room 117.

Mr. Handsome held the door open for you and you gave him a small smile as you ducked in and took a seat in the last row - old habits die hard. You glanced over the syllabus from Mr. Barnes and looked up as the bell rang.

"Welcome, parents," Mr. Handsome said with a warm smile. "I'm James Barnes, and this is 8th Grade History."

Oh no.

At some point you didn't even hear the words coming out of his mouth anymore, you were so swoony. Before you knew it, the bell was ringing and you quickly grabbed the syllabus and your folder and rushed out of the room, thankful that other parents were asking questions. You spent the rest of meet the teacher night stumbling from classroom to classroom thinking about him - his blue eyes and confident way of addressing the room and... everything.

You walked into your house and dropped your bag on the floor, heading to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. In bounces your daughter, all smiles.

"How was it? Who's your favorite teacher?"

This was going to be a long school year.

Tags: @cchellacat @book-dragon-13 @buckmesideways22 @cametobuyplums @marvelous-meggi @spacemansam @randomfandompenguin @loricameback @marvelandotherfandomimagines @buckysbrat @sallycanwait68 @jobean12-blog @jewelofwinter @collinsstanharbour @lancetuckersmustache @stuck-y-together @marvelgirl7 @southernbell91

Should this be a thing?