#jsdchallenge

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

Cracker Jacks and kiss cams

Summary: A story in which Bucky Barnes is very smitten, there’s a baseball game between the New York Mets and the Chicago Cubs, and Cracker Jacks are consumed.

Prompt: “I never thought you’d break my heart” Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: None. A bit of language maybe, but this is all just sappy fluff. 

A/N: This is my submission for @just-some-drabbles​ Rom-Com writing challenge, thanks for letting me join last minute and congratulations on reaching 4k! This story came about because I really love baseball, I really love the Chicago Cubs, and I really love Bucky Barnes, so all in all, it felt like a win-win.

MASTERLIST

(Bucky, opening Google search)

“how do you know if a woman is interested” “when do you know if a woman wants to kiss you” “how to tell a woman you love her without saying it” “why do I suck at talking to her” “oh my god why can’t I just ask her out” 

*****

(Bucky, texting Steve)

Bucky: help me Steve: ? Bucky: how do I tell her I like her? Steve: seriously? Open mouth, say words. Try not to be a dumbass Bucky: aren’t you supposed to be my best friend stop being a DICK steve Steve: stop being pathetic bucky Bucky: you’re an asshole and I need a strategy fucking help me Steve: I gave you a strategy Bucky: you are literally the worst wingman on the entire motherfucking PLANET Steve:  (ง'̀-'́)ง

*****

(Bucky, talking to Siri)

Bucky: Siri, there’s this girl I like and I want to ask her out but I don’t know how. I don’t know if she feels the same way and I really want to tell her she’s amazing and then she smiles at me and I have no idea how to talk to her and she’s so far out of my league, what am I supposed to do? Should I just ask her out? How do I do that? Siri: Okay, I’ve found several lists of ways to ask a girl out. Bucky, scrolling: These are stupid. I’m not some 13-year-old punk kid. Siri: Now searching, ways to ask out a 13-year-old punk kid. Bucky: What? No! Siri: Now searching, why do I like a 13-year-old punk kid. Bucky: Siri what the actual fuck?!

Bucky throws down his phone with an exasperated groan and falls face first onto his bed. His voice is muffled into his pillow when he shouts. “Why is this so damn hard?” 

*****

Jittery. That’s the best word to describe this feeling. 

Bucky is slowly working his way through the packed crowd surrounding Citi Field, eyes scanning the sea of blue and orange for the familiar face he is so anxious to see. He registers the ebb and flow of conversation, fans from both teams screaming back and forth, but he tunes most of it out. He is far to wrapped up in his own drama to worry about anything else around him.

And then he spots her, the source of his personal agony standing near the entrance, a content smile on her lips as she absorbs the excitement around her. Bucky feels his brain stutter and he thinks to himself, isn’t it just the strangest damn feeling when the rest of the world goes quiet and blurry and all you see is one person in front of you.

He has it bad. Like, this is really bad. 

Reaching a hand up, he tugs on his blue Brooklyn Dodgers ballcap (because he’s a Brooklyn boy at heart god dammit, and he still hates Walter O’Malley for moving them to LA and he’s never fucking letting this go), nervously adjusting the brim over his eyes, tucking his hair behind his ears, smoothing the front of his blue and orange Mets t-shirt.

“Get it together Barnes, you can do this, you can do this, you can do this.” He mutters the pep talk under his breath, testing the inflection on different words, hoping to convince himself.

Nope, doesn’t work. Still that burning hot feel of absolute panic, riding him hard.

She’s turning now and her eyes meet his, and her arm curves up to wave excitedly, and a heartbreakingly beautiful smile lights up her face, and Bucky trips over a non-existent crack on the pavement.

Jesus Christ man, get your shit together. 

He manages some semblance of a smile when he finally reaches her side and says “Hurgh –“ oh my god Barnes, that’s not a fucking word, but thank God she takes pity on him and ignores his inability to communicate, stretching up to wrap him in a tight hug.

“Thank you so much for inviting me Bucky, it’s been so long since I’ve seen them play.”

Her voice is soft in his ear and he feels her warm breath tickle his neck, sending a flash of longing zipping down his spine. He supposes he should let go, but now that she’s hugging him it seems a waste to let the moment end so he holds on tight, and maybe he pretends the heavy press of the crowd is the reason for his lingering hug, because it seems like solid rationale.

She’s a little breathless when she finally pulls back, but she holds onto his forearms, leaning back to look up into his face and Bucky is trying desperately to rearrange his features into something a little more genial and a little less ‘I love you please have my babies.’ He’s pretty unclear right now what his face shows, but she hasn’t slapped him, so it must not be too creepy.

“You’re – um, yeah you’re welcome, really happy you could come with me, you love baseball, that’s so great it’s the best, I don’t – ” he pauses mid-babble, eyes flicking down to the throwback jersey she’s wearing, noticing the logo for the first time and the realisation hits him like a brick.

“Wait a minute, hang on. You’re a Cubs fan?”

She grins up at him, taking in his horrified expression with amusement. “Bet your ass I am. Have been my whole life. I bleed Cubbie blue, Barnes.”

Bucky groans dramatically. She was bound to have one flaw, he supposes, but did it have to be this? 

“Aw damn, I hate the Cubs, they’re seriously just, like, the worst.”

She gives him a consoling pat on the arm, feigning sympathy, and he melts  when he sees the laughter dancing in her eyes, but he tries his hardest to pretend disappointment.

“I’m gutted darlin, out of all the people in my life, I never thought you’d break my heart like this, standing there in that God awful shade of blue. You’re really killin’ me, I might have to give your ticket to someone more deserving.”

Bucky watches her nose scrunch up when she starts laughing at his dramatic speech, and he feels that familiar swooping in his stomach that always happens when she’s around and he immediately forgives her for this and any past Cubs related sins.

“You don’t mean that, you need a little healthy competition in your life. And besides Buck, I didn’t know your heart was mine to break,” she sasses back, giving him a wink, and he nearly swallows his tongue.

Bucky’s still racking his brain for his witty response when she loops her arm through his, and pulls him toward the entrance.

“Come on, I need some Cracker Jacks before the game starts. I love your hat by the way. Vintage, just like you.”

*****

Bucky actually does have a strategy. He’s thought about it long and hard, debated every possible scenario, and he has to admit, it’s pretty good. All it took was a phone call to the stadium (a process during which he hung up three times in a panic before anyone actually answered), greasing a palm or two, promising some kids a photo with Steve, and here they are.

They pause at a kiosk to pick up two beers, three hot dogs for Bucky and a box of Cracker Jacks for her.

“Are you sure you don’t want something, um, more substantial?” Bucky questions, indicating a hot dog or a hamburger or something more than pure sugar.

“Nope!” She grins happily, pops the box open and takes a handful. Bucky’s momentarily mesmerised by the way her tongue catches the sweet popcorn, and he feels a flush working its way up his neck. It’s very possible the image of her eating Cracker Jacks may now be the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.

Like, ever.

He makes a mental vow to buy enough candy to stock her kitchen for pretty much infinity.

As they step out into their seating section, he feels himself begin to loosen up. The sky is a vivid blue, the outfield a bright green, the sunshine warm when it hits their faces.

Perfect baseball weather.

There’s a damp, clean smell surrounding them, the scent of fresh cut grass floating in the air as they make their way to the seats, and Bucky watches her enjoy the view, watches her take a deep breath of the cool air, watches her watching the players warm-up. He can’t seem to stop watching.

Be cool man, damn, his internal voice chastises again.

When they finally reach their row, he steps quickly aside (ever the gentleman), ushering her in first. She gives him a sweet smile and briefly squeezes his arm with her Cracker Jack-less hand, before dropping into her seat. He follows close behind, settling into his seat and gives a grunt of annoyance when he realises it’s won’t be a comfortable fit.

Swallowing hard, he plucks up the courage, and tentatively slides his arm along the back of her chair. “Um, is this okay? Seats are kind of small.”

“Of course, you might need to keep me warm anyway.” She gives him a nudge, sitting back into her seat and moving a little closer. He lets out a silent huff, his arm inching a little closer to her shoulders, fingers curling around her. If she shows the slightest hint of being cold, he’s more than prepared to snuggle.

Because he’s a great friend and all. Yeah. That’s it.

Propping her feet on the plastic seat in front of her, she turns toward him expectantly. “Okay, story time. Tell me why you hate the Cubs so much.”

Bucky’s easy laugh finally cracks his nervousness.

“Well, you’re required to hate at least one team in your division, that’s a rule. But it was one game that put the Cubs in the top spot. It was 1938, I got a couple tickets as an early birthday present for Steve. The game was great – you should’ve seen Ebbets Field back then, still so damn pissed they tore it down – and anyway, Dodgers were losing up until the bottom of the ninth, we had a huge rally, thought we’d walk away with the win, but there was one bullshit play and that was it. We lost by one.”

“Aw, poor baby.” She gives him a fake pout and rubs her thumb and forefinger together. “World’s saddest story, played with the world’s smallest violin.”

Bucky ducks his head, a lopsided grin tugging up his lips. “Thanks for the sympathy. Well, it wouldn’t have been a big deal, but then Steve goes and picks a fight with a couple mouthy punks from Chicago, and next thing I know, I’m sporting a broken nose and Steve’s missing a tooth and most of his dignity, and ever since then, well - we’ve both held pretty tight to that hate.”

She throws up her hands, stopping his story. “Wait, wait, wait. Steve got into a fight with someone?”

Bucky snorts. “Shocking, right? He’s usually so calm and easy going.”

She nods thoughtfully, looks deep into his eyes and there his stomach is doing that stupid little flip again. “Well I get it. Although that’s a hell of a long time to hold a grudge.”

“I’ve always excelled at stamina.” The flirty comment falls from his lips without a thought, and he follows it with a suggestive wink, heart racing delightedly when he sees her eyes sparkle.

*****

The game flies by. Fast. Way too fast. Everyone around him is laughing and smiling and chatting. Must be nice to be so god damn carefree.

Bucky Barnes is reaching his breaking point.

The game is nearing the end of the 6th inning, the Cubs are up by one run, there was a double-play on the field that will probably top the SportsCenter highlights reel, but to be honest, he hasn’t paid one ounce of attention to the game. His mind is occupied with a more pressing, panic inducing topic.

“Fuck, fuckity, fuck,” he whispers, the sudden sweep of nerves drying up his throat. He can feel his right hand beginning to sweat, and he rubs it unconsciously on his leg. His left hand taps a nervous rhythm on his knee.

She glances at the rapid movement of his fingers, head tilting with a curious question. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good, I’m, yep. Good. Right.” His voice is several octaves higher than normal and he clears his throat quickly and tries again. “Sorry, yes. All good.”

“And that’s the end of the 6th inning!” The announcer’s cheerful voice rings out, echoing through the stadium. The sound of laughter and chatter swells, as the Dodgers head into the field.

Bucky legitimately thinks he’s gonna throw up.

The beginning chords of an upbeat song fill the stadium, and the announcer’s voice is back.

“Hello fans! Pucker up, it’s time for today’s Kiss Cam!”

This was a new invention since Bucky was last at a Dodgers game in 1938. He saw it a few years ago and figures it’s a funny way to include the crowd in the stadium experience, always good for a laugh.

For a laugh, or even - oh god oh god oh god.

Turning his attention to the giant video screen in the outfield, wiping a slick hand on his jeans, his heartrate pounds into overdrive.

The camera flashes first to an older couple, the woman laughing when her husband dives in for a sloppy kiss.

The camera flashes to a young dad and his daughter, and she giggles when he plants a wet kiss on her cheek.

The camera flashes to a dark-haired man in a blue Brooklyn Dodgers baseball cap and a pretty girl in a Chicago Cubs jersey.

Shit, this is it, this is it, this is it.

“Bucky! It’s us!” She’s laughing excitedly, and Bucky takes a huge breath and turns to her.

“Um, do you – ” but she’s already jumping to her feet, pulling him with her, stretching to reach his lips and her breath tastes like sticky sweet caramel from the Cracker Jacks and Bucky is floored.

When her mouth presses to his, he feels a sizzle of electricity skitter across his skin and he does the only natural thing. Curving one arm around her waist, gently gripping the back of her neck with his other hand, he pulls her flush against him and with a sweep, dips her backward over his arm. She gives a small squeak of surprise at the move, and Bucky swallows the sound greedily, sinking deeper into the kiss. He can feel her lips smiling against his, and there’s a wild burst of excitement in his chest when she grips tight to his shoulders and kisses him back with more enthusiasm than he ever could have hoped.

Distantly, he can hear the crowd whistling and clapping at the show, but he ignores everything except the feel of her soft lips and the way her fingers burn his skin through the fabric of his shirt.

Incredible, he marvels. If he’d known this was what their first kiss would feel like? He would’ve started kissing her the moment they met, and he probably would’ve never stopped, because this right here, is something he can imagine doing every day, for the rest of his life.

It takes an eventual tap on his leg from the older gentleman sitting next to him, to finally come out of the haze surrounding the two of them. Vaguely, he hears the stadium catcalling when the announcer calls out “okay son, time to come up for air.”

Bucky slowly pulls her upright, settling her back on her feet before he gently breaks the kiss. He knows thousands of people are watching, but he can’t seem to look away. Her eyes are wide in her face, and he feels a flicker of pride when he notices her delicately swollen mouth. Reaching a thumb up, he swipes it lightly over her bottom lip, before dropping another quick kiss on her lips, ending with a light kiss on her nose.

The entire stadium is on their feet, cheering on the guy who obviously just made the move of a lifetime. Giving the crowd an embarrassed wave, he falls back into his seat, pulling her down next to him, and he can’t stop the silly grin now permanently etched on his face.

“Well, so okay. That went better than I expected.”

She’s staring at Bucky with a look of shock and something remarkably close to desire, if he’s not mistaken (and later that night, he happily discovers he is definitely not mistaken). She shakes her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. There’s amusement colouring her voice when she breathlessly chastises him.

“Bucky Barnes, did you plan this?”

Threading his fingers with hers, he lifts her knuckles and brushes his lips across them, giving her a quiet chuckle. Leaning toward her, his other hand cups her cheek and he inhales the warm scent of vanilla on her skin, before he whispers in her ear.

“I might have, yeah. Is that okay? I’ve been wanting to do that since the first moment we met, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

He hears her gentle laugh and he nearly faints when she leans into his touch with a low hum.

“Yes it’s okay, but just so you know - you had me with the Cracker Jacks. Once you bought those, I was all yours.”

“Good to know,” Bucky whispers and he presses his lips to hers again. The taste of sunshine and Cracker Jacks fills his mouth, and God, isn’t that just the most delicious thing in the world?

*****

TAGS: @buckyappreciationsociety​ @stentorian-lore-n​ @ihavemymomentsstill​ @badassbaker​ @psingh97​ @justreadingfics​ @palaiasaurus64​ @4theluvofall​ @psychicwitchphilosopher @mrshopkirk​  

[mercedesbarnes]

In Cahoots

Summary:  When movie night features horror, your least favourite genre, it leads to a discovery about Bucky’s feelings.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,576

Warnings: mentions of horror movies (no spoilers or explicit details!) , an annoying armrest, being close to Bucky Barnes

A/N: This is my submission for the wonderful @just-some-drabbles Rom-Com Challenge! Thanks for letting me participate, congratulations on 4k 💛 My prompt was “I think you already know.” Honestly I have no idea how it got to be so long, but the more Bucky the better, right? I hope you enjoy :)

"Y/N." 

"Mm,” you hummed.

"Is that a yes?"

Your fingers froze over the battery you were repairing down in Tony's lab. The wires inside of it were communicating by sparks happily, unlike the nerves in your brain. 

A yes to what? Better find out. Better pretend like you know.  Better not let Wanda know you had no clue what day it was, never mind the meaning behind her question.

"Yes?”

"You sound confused."

"I'm sure!" you said, unsure. "Yes. Yes to...that thing we're doing."

Wanda stood across your desk, expertly twirling a pencil in her long fingers. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"None at all," you admitted, slowly reaching for a screwdriver to continue working with your head down. She pocketed the pencil and gently removed the contraption from your hands to place it on your desk.

"I'm impressed about how you can nod in all the right places--I went on for ten minutes about my new paprikash recipe. Come, we’re going upstairs.” She gestured for you to follow her to the elevator. “It's movie night."  

You grabbed your blue sweater from the back of your chair and pulled it on as Wanda pressed the up button and you both stepped in.

"Why didn't FRIDAY call me?"

"She did, sweetie, you just get so absorbed in your work...to be honest you probably wouldn't notice if Hulk rampaged through the lab. Sam was here earlier to remind you about tonight and he said the same thing."

"Sam came? I don't remember."  

But you did hear a noise around the time you successfully connected the red and blue wires...maybe that was him instead of the faulty air conditioner you had thought. Well, there's one thing off your repair list.

Wanda pressed the floor number for the common room, laughing her melodic laugh. "He did, with Hulk hands and a mask. Bruce was impressed by his doppelgänger and gave Sam some pots to bang but you just nodded along to the beat."

"Oh." She wasn't kidding about the distraction thing, then. You checked your phone for anything else you might have missed. A couple social media notifications and a text from Bucky, time stamped an hour ago.

are you coming to the movie night?

You smiled to yourself at his message, which got you a playful nudge from Wanda.  “Who’s making you smile, Y/N?”

yeah, Wanda and I are in the elevator :)

You pressed send then slipped your phone in your pocket. “Just Bucky.”

“Just Bucky, huh?” she said with a curious arch of her brow.  “He doesn’t seem like just Bucky when he makes you smile like that from one text.”

“Wanda...” you warned tiredly, seeing her knowing grin form. “Where are you going with this?”

“I think you already know.”

“I think I do, and you shouldn’t.” Your friend had brought up this topic in the past, especially whenever you and Bucky caught eyes across the table, or when you walked to your rooms after a workout, innocently flirting talking the whole way.

“C’mon, Y/N.  You can’t deny it, you’re into Bucky. And he’s so into you.”

“I am, Wan, but I don’t want to assume anything on his side.”

Wanda winked and turned to face forward. “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

“Who knows...” You had to change the conversation topic.  Letting yourself think that Bucky was interested in you was veering into dangerous territory and you didn’t want to get your hopes up high in case Wanda’s hunch was wrong.  "What are we watching anyway?"

"Tonight's Tony's pick, and he said something about watching two movies? He was deciding when I came down to find you so I'm not sure.”

"I hope they're good. I fell asleep last time Vision chose that coin documentary."

"Yeah...I've told him he needs to watch those on his own time."

The doors opened and you followed Wanda into the common room, calling hello to everyone. Tony must've eaten too much sugar today. He mimicked a hummingbird drunk on nectar by whizzing around the room taking everyone's drink order as they settled into the couches and Lay-Z Boy recliners, chatting.

To Wanda’s delight, your eyes barely acknowledged the rest of the team in favour of searching for their favourite subject, and you felt your heart speed up when Bucky immediately put his phone away to greet you.  

He looked good -- too good for a casual movie night, with his hair loose and tucked behind his ears.  The hood of his sweater was bunched up against his neck and the seat and when he raised an arm to adjust it, simultaneously flashing you that sunshine smile and saying “Hey darlin’”, it was all you could do to ignore the swooping feeling in your stomach.

Yeah, you had it bad for him.

“Hi Bucky,” you said, perching on the arm of his chair. Being late meant you had to be creative with where you sat. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad, can’t complain. Ready for movies?” Bucky asked, shifting to face you better.

“Only always,” you said, still wondering which ones Tony had chosen. He usually liked action. 

You both poked your head to see what was teetering in bowls on the end tables: chips, dip, pretzels, and every candy ever invented. “Looks like we’ve got enough to feed the Hulk.”

“Yeah, but we’re missing the most important thing. I’ll go make popcorn,” Bucky offered, unfolding himself from the recliner and swiping an empty bowl on his way to the kitchen.

It wasn’t flirting, you told Wanda, when you curled up in Bucky’s empty recliner. You throwing a fuzzy blanket over yourself so he wouldn't notice was a bonus. If you can't see him he can't see you, right?  

"I see an invader."

Shoot. His eyes work. "Like my mom used to say: he who leaves the village loses his chair."

"Can’t argue with that.” His casual voice sounded closer and you stayed still in case he decided to pick you up. Alas, he only smoothly pulled the blanket off to reveal your guilty look. “But I will ask nicely.”  

"You know." Wanda leaned over the edge of the couch and said in an exaggerated whisper, "The recliner could fit you both."  She tilted her head in an ‘off you go’ movement, and you wondered why it was more directed at Bucky than at you.

Your eyes flicked to the man in question, who was still leaning on both of the armrests looking--dare you say--hopeful.

This was usually his chair on movie nights, and as you weren't quite sure where he stood on the whole personal space matter with regards to you, the decision to sit together was completely up to him.

He nodded and pushed himself up. By turning to your side there was enough room for Bucky to lower himself beside you. But it was awkward, so awkward, how your backs pressed up against each other while the armrests, covered with cloth, caged your stomach in painfully.  

There must be another way. Lay-Z Boys are designed to be comfortable.

“Hold on--” you groaned as the armrest dug into your ribs. You pulled yourself up onto it, ignoring the notion that the entire team was watching you, because you were probably being paranoid.  They were still talking and waiting for Bruce to come back from the bathroom.

Bucky was though, watching you. More questions than you could count painted his handsome face and curiosity was in all of them.

To readjust you flipped to your right side and slid your arm into the pocket behind his back, so now you had to lean into his side, with your head on his shoulder and your knees tucked under you.

For a minute, when he didn’t react, you wondered whether Bucky was changing his mind. If he really wanted to share with you.  If he was at all comfortable. A ‘no’ to either of those statements meant this arrangement wouldn't work; in that case you were more than ready to go to another spot since his comfort was your number one priority.

"Is this okay?" you asked quietly, looking up.

"Yeah." He nodded as he ran his fingers through his hair and you resisted the urge to reach up and fix a rogue strand. "Yeah, this is okay."

Bucky shuffled his limbs a bit, tilting his shoulder to give you better access to lean on him and not his metal arm, and he pulled the lever on the side of the chair to bring up the footrest, which he promptly propped his feet on. You both leaned back to make the recliner, well, recline.

“Everyone’s good? Yeah? Perfect. Let’s get the scare-a-thon started.” Tony clicked play and told FRIDAY to turn off the lights until the only sources were the TV and its reflection on the chip bags.

The opening sequence of Scream began to play and Bucky’s metal hand wound around your middle, surprisingly warm and finding the perfect place to rest on your side.  You exhaled shakily at the contact.

Wanda’s talk with you did nothing to ease the butterflies fluttering in your body. They were going nuts. Now all you could think was whether you were imagining his thumb brushing along your side or if he was doing it on purpose.

As much as you didn’t want him to move, Bucky’s knees were completely blocking your view so you tapped them, causing him to let out a muted “sorry” and lay them flat. To assure him it wasn’t anything to apologize about, you squeezed his side. You missed the sweet smile he gave you but you did feel him timidly rest his cheek on the crown of your head moments later. You hugged him again to say that’s okay too and he relaxed, his body melting into yours as every muscle lost its tension.

The further along the movie went, the more you wished Tony had chosen another genre.  You loved him to death and back but his taste in films was questionable. Why would you consciously choose to watch something that won't help you sleep at night? Especially when there were so many happier movies waiting in the Netflix queue?

Evidently feeling your distress, Bucky dipped his head that you could feel soft strands of hair brush against your forehead.  So as not to disturb the others, who were simultaneously engrossed and grossed out by the scenes on the screen, he spoke in a murmur.

"Scared?"

"Oh no, I love horror movies," you mumbled into his chest, “This is just how I appreciate them.”

"Seems like you’re a huge fan." You lifted your head to see him pursing his lips, like he was trying to bite back the smile that was already dancing in his eyes. Have you ever been close enough to see it before? You weren't sure. Most of your pining had been at a distance greater than a few inches.

"Hey. I can be your shield when the bad stuff comes on, how about that." Bucky slipped his fingers between yours and squeezed. You seriously thought your brain melted into mush because it took way too long to form a response. He looked patient, almost secretly proud that he had you speechless. 

"Thank you. Cause I'm not getting up to find Steve's."

The darkness was imperative to hiding the goofy grin that you were sure had tugged at your lips as you felt Bucky’s whole body laughing. It rumbled your own when another jump scare had you hiding in his sweater again.  

“I’ve got you, Y/N, don’t worry.”

You could feel his warm breath on your temple as he buried his into the top of your head. You could feel his cheek squished against you, and at a particularly loud part you swore he began to press gentle kisses in your hair.

Yeah, he wasn’t making this easy. It was getting harder and harder to deny his feelings for you when he let you curl up next to him like this.  

You had no help from your mind, which was going wild in thinking: imagine if you could do this all the time.

FRIDAY turned the lights back on when the movie ended.

"You falling asleep on me, darlin’?"

His voice was low and coated in innocent curiosity, somehow managing to balance out your current, very intimate, proximity. It was a voice only for you.

"No..."

Lies. You were getting tired, and it didn’t help that his steady breaths were lulling you to sleep. Whoever said muscle wasn't comfortable clearly had never met Bucky; he was all soft, and the maroon sweater he wore only increased his pillow status in your eyes.

"Your eyes are closed."  

"They're resting. I need to forget all the horrible images I was subjected to, thanks to a certain Tony Stark!” You directed the last bit to Tony, who flashed you a thumbs up.

"You’re welcome, Y/N!"

You sighed and laid your head back onto Bucky's shoulder to watch the Netflix autoplay count down for the next movie. That is, until you saw what was going to play next: Friday the 13th.

Oh, now you were awake.

"No! No more horror!"  

Bucky let you go as you made to lunge for the remote but your hips got stuck between your seat mate and the infamous armrest. You only faltered for a second, but that was enough for Tony to swipe the remote out from under your grasp.

"Sorry, honey bunch. When it's your turn to pick we can watch all the rom-coms you want. That night is not tonight, so enjoy Frosty the Snowman and munch some cookies."  

"It's not even Friday the 13th," you huffed, more to yourself than anyone else. Plucking a chocolate bar from the pile, you leaned back into Bucky and and opened the wrapper. Chocolate wouldn't leave crumbs and it was a chance to offer your seatmate something for all the help he was giving to you.

"Want some?"

"Yes please."

“They’re over there,” you said cheekily, pointing to the table.

Bucky pulled away from you to stare in surprise. “Oh, is that how this is going to go?”

“Sure is.”

“No chocolate...hmm. I might have to resign my position as a shield then. “ With raised eyebrows he made to put down the footrest but you grabbed his arm from going so far. This was not part of the joke, he couldn't leave when there was another horror movie.  

“Wait no. No, no, no. You have to stay.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. I need you.”

“Hiring me again will require payment in chocolate form.” He winked, and your butterflies exploded.

“Done,” you said quickly, handing him the entire chocolate bar and reaching for more. “Done and done. Take them all, just don't leave.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Bucky assured you, collecting all the chocolates onto his chest then bringing you snug into his side again.

Man, you were probably giving him bruises by now.

It was halfway through this movie that you adopted your mantra. Mantras are used to calm down and boy, did 'ohnonononono' with a few expletives thrown in there do its job.

At another particularly loud scream from the protagonist -- she should not have gone outside --  your well-trained reflexes took over. Your legs jumped into your chest and you squeezed Bucky as tight as your eyes did shut, tighter than would be comfortable. 

Still, he didn’t complain.

His non-verbal response was much appreciated: he gathered you closer into his chest while his right hand grabbed your legs and draped them over his own before adjusting a blanket to cover you both. Then the hand dipped below the blanket and rested his fingers in the crease of your top knee. They curled into your pants’ fabric, not tightly, but just enough to remind you he wasn’t going anywhere, while his thumb rubbed soothingly. Like a mantra.  

The awful help-I'm-fake-dying! screaming continued except you felt the sounds didn't pierce your soul as much as they would have, had Bucky not been holding you close, and you him. Literally every one of your sensory nerves was firing because of Bucky and the personal bubble you two were in.

He was everywhere. Especially your forehead to his cheek. His hair brushing against your skin. His scent and murmured words comforting you. And his rapid heart beating almost as fast as your own.

You couldn’t see much, mostly darkness, but that darkness didn’t seem so dark with Bucky. As a shield, he was being it very well. Bucky was hugging you tightly, his arms muscled shields of vibranium, forcing the horrors away.

“Tell me when it's safe to look,” you whispered for what felt like the hundredth time.

“I will.”

After what Bucky deemed to be an appropriate and non-murderous part, you relaxed your death grip on his torso.  You’d be lying if you said the horror movie was the single contributing factor to your racing pulse as you sheepishly met his gorgeous eyes; they seemed to soften as they found the sight of you in his arms.

"I'm sorry if I give you bruises."

"'S'okay, I've gotten them in worse ways."

“You sure?”

“Y/N, I’m alright,” he grinned, his amusement at your worry very clear.

You patted his chest. "Okay, I believe you. But I am starting to think you aren't the biggest fan of horror movies either. I was feeling pretty squeezed.”

"Ahh, you caught me,” he admitted. “But I’m your shield, remember? I have to know what’s out there so I can keep you safe.” The hand that was holding your legs emerged to poke your nose.  

You wrinkled it, half playful, half reflex, because since when did your nose have enough nerves in it to make one touch feel like a million? To make each of those million shoot out to the rest of your body and rush it with electricity, not unlike the current you were trying to create with your battery downstairs?

It was funny, really, that you were pressed up against Bucky in every single other way possible yet this was the one to debilitate your actions and steal your breath away.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

“Anytime, Y/N.”  

Was it so crazy to hope for another time?

If your nose had nerves, Clint poking his into your bubble had you on your last one. Personal bubble is personal for a reason, despite the fact that yours and Bucky's had merged to make a sort of Venn diagram. He was the only exception. 

“Hey cuddle buddies, movie’s over.”

It was as if Clint’s voice popped the bubble. Bucky cleared his throat, and you looked away, untangling yourself from the supersoldier’s grasp and sitting up.  

Bucky sat up too, and he started to lightly trace circles on your back while you leaned into him. This was definitely something you wanted to do all the time. 

Indeed the movie was over. The lights back were back on and your other teammates were beginning to stand up and stretch their limbs, some of them shooting quick glances at you and Bucky before directing their eyes elsewhere. Wanda didn't; she kept watching you two with a trace of something you could only describe as pride in her faint smile.

“Never again,” you declared, shaking your head.  

“Aw, c’mon, you had a good night. ” Bucky poked at your side as he got to his feet. You did.

“Yeah, I suppose it wasn’t too bad,” you said, “I’m going to bed before Netflix plays another one, though.” 

“Fair,” Wanda laughed.  “Bucky, why don’t you walk Y/N to her room?” 

He took your hand and pulled you up. “I was just about to.” 

The walk was quiet. Unlike your mind.  “Bucky, can I ask you something?” 

“Shoot.” 

“Why do I get the feeling that you and Wanda planned something tonight?”

He chuckled as you came to your door. “That’s because we did. I, uh, may have asked Wanda for some help getting closer to you. We figured you might hop in my seat if I left it and that’s exactly what you did.”

You groaned. “You guys know me too well.” 

“The plan worked, I think.”

“It did.”

“Tony’s choices just happened to make us very close.”

You eyed him. “He was in on it too?”

“Yeah. He likes action and horror, apparently.” Bucky smiled, and you held glorious eye contact. After a while you glanced reluctantly at your door.  “I should, ah, head to bed.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Y/N.” 

“Goodnight, Bucky. “ Before you could think twice about it, you lifted onto your toes and pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek.  “Thank you again.” 

“We could do it again sometime?” Bucky asked, hands tucked in pockets and biting back a hopeful grin.

“Definitely.” 

Wanda’s always right, you thought, watching him go with an stupidly huge grin of your own.

Later, you were in bed. 

But were you sleeping? Nope. Not a wink. 

You tossed and turned for a while, trying to push the intrusive thoughts about the movies out of your mind. It sucked that you had been about to fall asleep earlier but now you found you couldn't.

Bucky. If you were relaxed with him during a horror movie of all things, perhaps he could help now. 

Unplugging your phone from its charger, you rolled to the other side of the bed and opened Bucky’s text thread. Your thumbs did a little dance over the keyboard before typing and sending:

You're comfortable :)

Bucky responded quickly.

So are you :)

Tags (open!): @parkerstcr , @buckys-fossil , @whyisbuckyso , @bootypoppinbarnes , @fxckmebuck , @sebashtiansatan , @langinator , @seeyainanothalifebrotha , @secondstartotheright-imagines , @the-renaissance , @miraisnotavailable , @winchesterandpie , @supernatural-girl97, @sanjariti , @rotisserierogers , @aekr , @engineeringgirlcve 

[captainmarvels]

new rules

Summary: Same dating game, with some brand new rules.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 950

A/N: My entry for my sweet @just-some-drabbles 4k writing challenge! Congrats again, love! This is my first time writing Wanda + may or may not be based on personal experience; nevertheless, I hope you all enjoy! | masterlist

“Do we have to do this? Is it really necessary?”

You’re face down on your bed, a pillow over your head as you groan into the mattress. Natasha laughs, stroking your back.

“How else is she ever gonna know?” You groan again, rolling over. You throw an arm over your eyes, avoiding eye contact with Nat.

“I regret ever telling you I like her.” Natasha rolls her eyes, pulling your arm away.

“Look at me, Y/N. I know she likes you too, whether you choose to believe me or not. You’re both just really stubborn. Trust me! This will work.”

You stand in front of Nat’s mirror, scanning over your outfit as Natasha finished fixing your hair. You ran your fingers over the velvet fabric of the dress, admiring its softness.

“Like it?”

“I love it, Nat. How are you so good at this stuff?” You ask, still in awe over the outfit she had bought you just for tonight. She rolls her eyes, resting her hands on your bare shoulders.

“What do you think I do in my spare time? Sharpen my knives?” You nod, giggling when she lightly smacks your arm. “Rude, Y/N.”

“Sorry! Anyways, what’s the plan?” You nervously rub your arms, toying with the bangles on your wrist. Natasha steps away, grabbing her lipstick off the vanity.

“Well, you’ve gotta flirt with her. You can’t just spend every night out sitting and talking in a club booth over life. You have to flirt!” You roll your eyes, leaning against the desk as you watch Nat fix her makeup.

“I do flirt, shut up.”

“It’s been almost a year, Y/N. You’re really bad at this whole flirting thing,”

“I am not! Okay, maybe I am, but what do you expect? I can’t even hold a conversation with a guy, let alone a pretty girl. Wanda? I might as well be Ariel, unable to speak at all!” Natasha side eyes you, and you shrug. “What? It’s the truth.”

“Well, we’re going to fix that tonight. C’mon, you’re gonna practice with me right now!”

The music was loud, and you were sitting at the bar with Sam, Bucky, and Wanda. Natasha had sat you right in between Bucky and Wanda, making sure you didn’t back out last minute. You were nursing your drink, laughing along with Wanda at all the dumb banter between the boys. Eventually you realized your drink was watered down, so you decide to order another.

“Do you want some of mine? It’s pineapple juice and vodka; very delicious, in all honesty!” Wanda giggles, sliding the glass over to you.

“Are you drunk, silly?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as Wanda shakes her head, a smile dancing on her lips.

“Nope! C’mon, try it. I promise, it is so good.” Wanda leans in, her hand resting on your knee. You shake your head, laughing as you bring the glass to your lips. You take a long sip, savoring the sweet taste and soft burn in your throat. You set the glass down, meeting Wanda’s sparkling gaze.

“So?”

“Good taste, Wanda. I like it, a lot.”

“Wanna try something else?” Bucky cuts in, sliding two shot glasses over. You sigh, closing your eyes before turning towards him.

“What is it, Bucky?” Wanda asks, eyeing the clear liquor.

“Tequila. Way better than vodka.”

“We’ve had tequila before, Barnes.” You say, tilting your head.

“Not this kind of tequila. C’mon, it tastes good, I promise. Real strong burn, too.”

Wanda shakes her head, grabbing her mixed drink from the counter. “I’m good with the vodka, Bucky.” You glance down at the shots, then at Wanda. An idea pops in your head, and you’re silently praying you have enough alcohol in you to pull it off.

“If I take the shot and I say its good, share the next one with me, Wanda.” Her eyes widen in confusion as she looks at you.

“Share it? How?”

“Just watch.” You grab one of the glasses, raising it up as you and Bucky both down them at the same time. You slightly wince at the burn, but man, it was worth it.

You set the glass down, and grab the other. Now or never.

“You trust me, Wanda?” You whisper, leaning in close. She shakes her head, her hand moving back to your knee as you bring the glass to your lips. You slowly take the shot, swallowing some of the liquor before taking in the rest.

Pulling her in close, your lips meet in a kiss, her tongue slipping into your mouth. You let her in, letting the remaining tequila slip into her mouth. It takes her by surprise as she gasps, letting a small bit dribble down her chin. She smiles, wrapping a hand around your neck as she pulls you in even closer. Your hands cup her cheeks, slowly moving into her hair as you start to pull away. She sighs, a blissful smile pulling at her lips as she stares at you.

“Well, that was a lovely surprise. What took so long?” She giggles, resting her hand over yours as you turn away, smiling out of embarrassment. She raises her hand, stroking your cheek to coax you back into meeting her gaze.

“I’m just so very bad at this.” You whisper, smiling as she drags her thumb across your lips.

“Oh, I promise you, Y/N. That was amazing. I wouldn’t mind doing it again, for just a little longer.” Wanda winks, a pink blush tainting her cheeks as her gaze darts between your eyes and lips. You laugh, taking her hand in yours.

“Then what do you say we get out of here, angel?”

tags: @bookybuns, @retroasgardian, @roamingharlem, @thesaraaaaahpfan, @avengershavethetardis, @buenostardissherlock, @storyofavengers, @imsecretlyromanburki, @cassandras-musings, @nottheopera, @coltcas, @thefridgeismybestie, @rda1989, @callamint, @kaaatniss, @seb-ass-tian-stan-ws, @bootypoppinbarnes, @hollycornish, @h4izel, @charliexowrite, @sebashtiansatan, @thewinterswimmer, @damnlokifangirl, @blossombarnes , @sebastian-stans-thighs, @capsheadquaters, @jobean12-blog, @theassetseyeliner, @buckys-fossil @worldsroses @yikesbuckster @mjuikoli @rotisserierogers @buckyappreciationsociety @supernaturaldean67 @milychetto @caramell0w @shhhs3cret @avengedqueen26, @this-is-angela, @ohwhatamessiam, @captain-amelia-bradley, @tasting-writers-block @raindancer2004 @hellomissmabel @yoinkpeter @redgillan @persephone-is-here-omg @lucetheding @sexylibrarian1 @barnres @everyrosehasitsthornton @justasunflower @emscairstairs @integalacticaroline @captainrogerss @lovelynemesis @themanwithovtfear @-hiddlesdweeb- @james-heaven-barnes

[moonbeambucky]

Crazy in Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2757 Warnings: Fluff, slight angst

Summary: You're injured on a mission, taking a bullet for your best friend Bucky, but your relationship is on rocky waters after you confessed your feelings for him and he did not respond.

A/N: This is my submission for @just-some-drabbles 4k follower Rom-Com Challenge. Congrats JSD 💖 My prompt was “People do crazy things when they’re in love.”  Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated! gif source (x)

Sunday is your favorite day of the week. It’s the only day Steve isn’t on everyone’s case to wake up early and train and you take full advantage of that by sleeping in. When your body woke up at a reasonable time you loved to roll over again and throw the blankets over your head to sleep some more. Your bed was comfortable and inviting. It was so inviting that a certain team member had found his way into your bed more than once.

You recall the first time Bucky had shared your bed those long months ago. It was the middle of the night and you woke up with a mouth feeling drier than the desert. Making your way into the kitchen for a glass of water you gasped, not expecting to run into anybody. Bucky picked his head up from the cool granite countertop, looking up at you with swollen red eyes. Immediately you were at his side, brushing the hair off of his sweaty forehead and pulling him into your tight embrace.

He clung to your body, sobbing into your chest and your heart broke for him. You offered him comfort, gently stroking one hand through his dark brown locks while the other rubbed his back.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to Bucky,” you said gently, as he looked up at your kind eyes and soft smile. “Can I get you anything?”

He shook his head and with the faintest voice cried out, “I’m so tired Y/N.”

You didn’t have to ask what he meant, Bucky was your best friend and so you were well aware of the nightmares that plagued his mind. It shocked the entire team that Bucky opened up to you so quickly; he was friendly with all of them but kept himself emotionally distant, save for Steve. You didn’t expect to become this close with him but you clicked right away forming your tight-knit friendship.

You offered him your room so he could sleep, knowing that a change of scenery might help quiet his mind. Bucky climbed into your bed, his large frame sinking into the plush mattress. You were ready to trade places and sleep in his room before he stopped you, begging with a fragile voice for you to stay. You laid back as he curled himself next to you, resting his heavy head on your chest while you wrapped your arms around him. You weren’t comfortable by any means but you didn’t care, Bucky was finally asleep and putting his demons to rest for the night.

The routine continued and you looked forward to every night that you shared your bed with Bucky. Your friendship continued to grow as well as you spent most of your time together. You trained together, challenging each other in different types of combat; you bonded, forming inside jokes that made you burst out with fits of laughter. Bucky even helped you plant lilacs in the garden behind the compound. They were your favorite, their pleasant scent made you feel calm and at peace. You kept fresh clippings on your nightstand, hoping the aroma would calm Bucky as well.

On the days you had off Bucky asked you to help catch him up on movies he missed. Sometimes other members of the team would join in when they caught a glimpse of what was playing on the screen.

“Die Hard is a Christmas movie,” Sam argued.

Natasha gave a hard roll of her eyes, “Just because it takes place during Christmas Eve doesn’t make it a Christmas movie!”

You shushed them both not caring about who won the argument. All that mattered was Die Hard is a movie Bucky wanted to see and if they didn’t shut up he never would.

Some nights Bucky came into your room early, and it was there he asked to watch musicals, preferring something lighter before he drifted to sleep beside you. Pillows were propped up against the headboard as you and Bucky sat back to watch Mary Poppins, turning your head every now and then to see Bucky watching in awe as Julie Andrews flew in with her umbrella.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you observed Bucky, the sparkle of joy in his eyes, the wide smile. Everything about him made you feel lighter than air, and that was the first time you acknowledged your feelings.

It happened naturally and looking back you wondered why you hadn’t come to this realization sooner. You spent every day together, every meal, every night. Bucky was so much more than a friend in your mind except that was the problem, you were just a friend and it would be selfish to force your feelings onto him.

Bucky trusted you, he valued your friendship and you knew how much he needed you as a friend and no more. These were your feelings, your problem and you thought it wasn’t fair to Bucky to put this on him. You thought about the team as well, you were such a great group, a family; you didn’t want to jeopardize any of this and so you pushed your thoughts down.

It was hard spending so much time with Bucky. Going out on missions with him was even worse. You were at a safe house one night and your cruel mind thought of several scenarios as to how you could spend your time alone but Bucky never showed any signs that he thought of you as more than a friend. He curled up against you like he always did as you hoped to calm the wild beating of your heart.

You continued to keep your feelings to yourself until one night Natasha confronted you and there was no point in trying to hide them from her.

“You’re basically dating,” she said, “Just without the intimacy… or the acknowledgement that you’re ‘official’, so maybe it’s time to change that,” she suggested.

“Nat, it’s not that simple. He’s my friend, I can’t put this on him,” you sighed.

“I think you should talk to him. It’s not good to harbor these feelings, it’s not fair to either of you.”

As time went by your feelings for Bucky continued to grow. He asked you to go to Coney Island with him and it was incredible. It was the perfect date, except for it being an actual date, although you noticed he kept a picture he took from that day of the two of you on his dresser. Could he possibly have feelings too? He slept in your bed every night despite not having nightmares anymore. Is he not looking to label whatever it is you have?

One night Bucky was being extra affectionate with his hugs and deep glances and you couldn’t take it anymore. You told him everything you felt, pouring your heart out to him, admitting that you loved him. That was the day that everything changed, the day your heart shattered into a million pieces after he left your room without responding to your confession.

After everything how could he not even manage to say one word to you? You spent the rest of the night crying, your stomach was in knots as your face was drenched with the tears of your unrequited love. Your heavy head hit your pillow, soaking the fabric as you sobbed, straining your tired eyes. Running your hands along the empty space on your mattress where Bucky’s warm body should have been, you regretting ever speaking up. You fell asleep on your comfortable mattress, feeling anything but comfort.

It was Sunday and it was early, too early to be awake but you were, watching the orange glow of sunrise breaking over the tops of the trees. Your comfortable bed was empty as you lay in the medical bay of the compound, tossing and turning on the cement board they call a bed. Note to self, tell Tony to invest in better mattresses.

You glance at the monitor beside your bed, watching your vitals remain unchanged while the constant beeping of the machines has caused your left eye to twitch. You’re so exhausted you just want to rest. Trying to find a comfortable position you shift around again feeling a twinge of pain on your left side. Note to self, people who’ve had a chunk of their skin blown off should not rest their entire body weight that side. Uncomfortable and laying flat again, you shut your eyes hoping that somehow you will fall asleep out of pure exhaustion.

A knock at the door pulls you out of the short nap you managed to take. Your eyes focus on Bucky standing at the foot of the bed. Normally you could read him like a book, but ever since your confession he’s been distant, wearing a constant poker face with no signs of faltering. Nevertheless you were glad to see him.

“Hey Bucky,” you said, curving one side of your mouth upwards into a lopsided smile.

He scans your body, from the gauze on your temple to the broken blood vessel in your right eye that made his blood boil at the sight of it. He can’t see the stitches on your waist but he knows they’re there. You were unconscious after you were shot but he was there, watching the blood spill from your body as he frantically tried to put pressure on the gaping wound until you were brought back to the compound. His silent stares cause you to feel uncomfortable, you wish he would just speak.

“Bucky?”

“What were you thinking Y/N?!” he shouts.

The sudden rush of queasiness washes over you as he stands there and scolds you. “You should have called for backup. You shouldn’t have taken him on alone. Y-you could have died!”

You feel the sting of tears collect in your eyes prompting you to shut them quickly to prevent them from dropping.

“Why Y/N? Why did you do that?” his strained voice asked.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and steadied your voice before speaking, “You know why,” you said firmly, directing your gaze at Bucky’s storm colored eyes.

His lips are pressed together into a tense line as he stares at you not responding. He leaves the room without saying anything and only after you’re sure he isn’t coming back you let your guard drop along with your tears. Again! How can he do this again?

Shortly after Natasha visits you, casually strutting in as she makes her way towards your bed, gently sitting next to you. “How’re ya holding up?” she asked, rubbing her thumb across the top of your hand.

“Remember when I said I wanted to lose a few inches? Well, this isn’t how I wanted to do it,” you joked as the red head laughed.

“I saw Bucky before, he didn’t look too happy.”

“Well he came in to yell at me so…” you began to say.

“What you did was pretty stupid, crazy even but I get it,” she said, squeezing your hand in solidarity.

Natasha leaves you to rest, if only you actually could. Your mind doesn’t stop, instead bringing your thoughts back to yesterday’s mission. The team was raiding a Hydra base, everything was going smoothly up until you encountered a lot more opposition than expected.

Hydra had newly designed weapons with bullets that explode upon contact. You were outnumbered, fighting a losing battle until Tony called in the Iron Legion. The droids helped even the playing field and things were looking up until you saw a Hydra agent aiming his weapon at Bucky who was too busy fighting off a group to notice.

You ran over to the significantly larger man, throwing a strong fist to his hard jaw. He turned towards you, laughing as he smacked you down with his weapon, opening a gash on the side of your face. You used every move you learned with Bucky in training, trying desperately to knock the weapon from his hands. You pressed your thumbs into your enemy’s eyes as he screamed out in pain. Your hold was broken as he kneed your gut. The man wildly threw his head back and down again towards your face, head butting you with all of his force centered on your right eye.

You fell to the ground in pain, dizzy and groaning. Blinking a few times to clear your vision, you saw the man take aim at Bucky. In that moment all you could think about is your love for Bucky, your love for the man who became your best friend, and wanting nothing to harm him ever again. He endured so much in his life and you’d be damned if you let him experience any more pain.

You screamed his name to grab his attention as you jumped in front of the man. His finger dislodged from the trigger, the bullet piercing your side with a searing burn. You fell to the ground, groaning in agony with a faded memory of Bucky attacking the man that shot you.

Not realizing you had fallen asleep again, you woke up a few hours later, this time to the sweet fragrant smell that was permeating throughout your room. Opening your eyes you see lilacs, everywhere. The windowsill is covered with several vases of fresh cut lilacs in various colors, white, violet and periwinkle. There are several large urns filled with smaller lilac bushes, varying from pink to purple.

Your eyes find Bucky, planted on the chair beside your bed. His head is tilted down but he looks up when he heard you stirring. His beautiful blue eyes were staring back at you, this time without any anger.

“Bucky! What are you—”

“I’m sorry Y/N, I’m so sorry, for everything.” Running his hands through his hair he exhaled deeply. You stared at him, confused and intrigued, waiting for him to continue.

“When you told me how you felt about me, that you loved me, I, wow I couldn’t believe it.” He paused to smile at you, his eyes catching your skeptical face. “I’m sorry I ran out of there, I didn’t mean to, I…”

You had to interrupt him. “Didn’t mean to? Bucky I told you that I loved you and you ran away. Do you know how that felt?” The quickened sound of beeping on the monitor matched your pounding heart.

“I was scared because I, I feel the same way Y/N.” Your gaze softened at his admission, your mouth hung open, waiting to hear more. “I wasn’t sure that you thought of me like that but then you did and I panicked. It became real and then I worried about everything, about losing you or pushing you away somehow, so I left to talk to Steve but then you didn’t want to see me anymore.”

His expression dropped, taking a deep breath he spoke again, “When you got hurt, when you took that shot aimed for me it felt like the world stopped spinning. I’m crazy about you Y/N. I love you Y/N and I never want to let you go.”

You leaned forward, groaning slightly, to cup his cheek in your hand. He pressed into your touch and curved his lips up into a smile. “I love you Bucky.”

Slowly he leaned forward until his forehead was pressing against yours. The tip of your nose lightly grazed his skin as you tilted your head, pushing forward to connect your lips with his in a soft and tender kiss.

You smiled, relieved at his reciprocated feelings. Bucky pulled the chair closer, wishing he could be laying beside you once more but this time holding you against him. For now, his hands find yours as he rubs his fingers along your warm skin.

The sweet scent of the lilacs wafts through your nostrils as you breathe deeply. “Hey Bucky, what’s with all of the flowers?” you asked chuckling.

“What? They’re your favorites.” You heard the smile in his voice.

“Bucky it’s too much! This is crazy!”

“People do crazy things when they’re in love,” he replied, looking at you with a loving gaze.

He leaned in again, light stubble scratched your cheeks as Bucky’s soft lips captured yours. The monitor beside you began to beep again as you lost yourselves in a passionate kiss. Pulling away to catch your breath you sat back staring with adoration at the man you were crazy about, lacing your fingers with his knowing he was crazy in love with you too.

[indominusregina]

The Bet: Terms and Conditions

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Douche at a bar (a guy who cant take no for an answers), swearing

Word count: 2k

Song inspiration: Cute - Stephen Jerzak

Notes: This is for @just-some-drabbles “JSD Rom-Com Challenge” My prompt was “Is that the best you can do?” and will be appearing in a later chapter. I’m actually super excited to share this work, as it’s been in my WIP for actual months. Life has been hectic with family vacations and changing jobs, and I can’t even begin to describe how good it feels to sit down and write again, even if it’s challenging. Enough about me, though! On with the story. Feeback is always appreciated!

Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Part 2

The lights strobe around you as a beat pulses through your head, resonating through the rest of your body. The club that Sam chose isn’t your usual scene, but it was his turn to pick the venue for your monthly outing. Glancing around the dance floor, you finally spot Natasha and Wanda, teaming up against one poor man who clearly has no idea what’s about to hit him. Natasha locks eyes with you and silently gestures for you to come over, but you shake your head and raise your glass as a toast instead. She shrugs and focuses her attention back on her victim and you chuckle softly, glancing down at your drink. That’s when Sam nudges you.

“Check out Frosty over there, striking out again.” There’s a glee in his voice that forces you to look up. Following his gaze, you see Bucky talking to another girl, annoyance clear on her face. Even from across the room, you can see her lips form a hard ‘no’ and her head shakes firmly. Bucky’s shoulders sag before he nods and slinks his way back to your table.

“So much for being a womanizer, Barnes. I guess women nowadays must have something they didn’t in the 30s.” Sam smirks and you press your lips together, knowing what’s coming next.

“Oh please, Bird Brain, tell me what they’ve acquired that make things so different.” Bucky’s rolling his eyes as Sam’s smirk grows wider. Sam leans across the table, looking Bucky dead in the eyes as he deadpans his response.

“Standards.” You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing as Bucky’s eyes narrow and he shoves Sam away, the other man’s laugh booming loudly enough to contest the beats pumping from the speakers.

Nat sidles up to you as Sam is doubling over in laughter, even in the face of Bucky’s glare. Turning, you quirk an eyebrow at her and mouth ‘Wanda?’ She shrugs in response, and you nod, knowing that Nat wouldn’t leave her in an uncomfortable situation without backup. You turn back to the scene developing in front of you just as Bucky’s anger is about to surface, fist clenching as he stares at Sam wiping the tears of laughter out of his eyes.

“So, Barnes, why exactly is Wilson laughing this time?” Natasha asks, drawing Bucky’s attention to her and away from Sam.

“My advances were rejected by a dame and he thinks his bad jokes are hilarious.” The plates in his metal hand shift again and you step in.

“What happened, Buck?” Your curiosity shows plainly on your face and he sighs before taking another swig of his beer.

“Well, I was talking up this lady, right? Things were going well, I’d bought her a drink and we were chatting away from her friends and then I tried to give her one of my lines and she just…” He shrugs, frowning.

“What did you say to her?” Natasha shifts, curiosity piqued.

“I said ‘You’re a swell dish. I think I’m gonna go for you.’” Bucky says with a wink. A moment of silence descends over the table before the three of you bust out in laughter.

“Oh come on, not you two as well!” Bucky frowns as you try to reign in your giggles.

“S-Sorry Buck. It’s just….” You snort and take a few deep breaths to calm yourself.

“It’s just that line is terrible.” Natasha finishes before you can regain your composure.

“That line would have gotten a girl to come home with me in a flash back in the 30s!” He frowns and you shake your head.

“Maybe, but Buck, it’s not the 30s anymore.” You shrug and excuse yourself to go get another drink, a mirthful smile still on your face. Just as you catch the bartender’s attention, you can feel someone’s hot breath on the back of your neck.

“Hey pretty lady, can I buy you a drink?” You turn just enough to see the face of the man speaking. Although not entirely unattractive, you aren’t interested either.

“No thanks.” You turn back to the bar and open your mouth to tell the bartender what you want, but the man speaks up again.

“Oh come on, don’t be a bitch. It’s just a drink.” You close your mouth, taking a deep breath through your nose before turning and facing him again.

“Listen, we both know it’s not just a drink, and I’d really rather not. So thanks, but no thanks.” You turn back to the bar, the bartender having moved on after seeing you strike up conversation. Frowning, you lean forward again to try to grab their attention.

“Whatever. Ugly bitch. Good luck trying to find anyone else who’d be willing to buy your stupid ass a drink.” The man slams his hand on the bar beside you, causing the woman on the other side of you to jump and spill her drink all over your dress. You sigh as the man storms away and the woman apologizes profusely despite your reassurances.

“No really, it’s fine. Gives me an excuse to get out of here without my friends judging me.” You give her a sincere smile as you pat away as much liquid as you can with a few napkins, then head back to your table.

“What happened to you?” Nat looks over your dripping dress as you shrug.

“Long story. But since I’m now covered in what smells like a piña colada, I’m heading home for the night. See you tomorrow.” You give a wave and head towards the doors.

“Hey, I’m coming too!” Bucky hurries to catch up to you and you arch a brow at him. “I’ve already struck out for the night, so I’m not enthusiastic about being here, if you know what I mean.” He answers your silent question with a shrug, and you nod in response, punching in your destination for an uber. By the time you weave your way through the crowd, your uber is only a minute away. Bucky starts to move towards one of the waiting cabs when you grab his arm and hold up your phone.

“Uber, my friend, is cheaper. And it’s almost here.” You smirk and he shakes his head, muttering under his breath about how times have changed too much for his liking. When your driver, Luis, shows up, you both slide into the car. Bucky holds the door open so you can go first and you smile gratefully at him.

“Hey you two! Having a good night out? I see we’re going to the Avengers tower. Do you know someone there?” Luis lets out a stream of words before Bucky’s even in the car. You exchange a glance as Bucky slips in next to you.

“Actually, we-” You start, and are cut off immediately.

“Wait a minute! I recognize you guys! You’re the Winter Soldier and (Y/S/N)! This is so cool! Actually, a friend of mine is a superhero too. We’re totally super tight. He goes by Ant-man. This one time, he totally kicked the Falcon’s butt!” Bucky grins, and you roll your eyes as he asks Luis to go on. Luis is talking at a mile a minute, launching into story after story, and you find yourself getting lost in the lights of the rushing city as you tune him out.

Before you know it, you’re pulling up at the tower, and despite his earlier encouragement, Bucky seems relieved to finally be getting away from the talkative driver. After bidding him a quick goodnight with a promise to give him a decent rating, Luis drives off to find another audience. “Well, that was certainly entertaining. Not sure I understood half of what he was saying.” Bucky shrugs as he holds open the door for you.

“Honestly, I tuned him out after he started in on that story of Ant-man beating Sam’s ass in a fight at the compound.” You push the buttons in the elevator for both your floor and Bucky’s. The rest of the ride is comfortably quiet and when the doors open for your floor, you bid Bucky goodnight before hustling to your room to finally change out of your sticky dress. After a quick shower, you don’t even bother putting on pyjamas as you fall into bed.

The next morning, you awake early and throw on some comfortable clothes. You make your way to the kitchen, knowing that you’ll have to make the coffee for Natasha, who should be up soon even despite her late return. As soon as you’ve poured a mug, the redhead appears, almost as if it was a summoning ritual. “Morning.” You greet and receive a small nod in response. Mornings with Natasha tend to be quiet and subdued until you’d finished the first mug of coffee, allowing you both to wake up slowly. Today was no exception. Mid-way through your second cup of coffee, you’re chattering away about last night and what happened to you before you left, as well as what happened with Natasha after.

A cough has you both looking up and at the offending noise. “Good morning ladies. I’m here. Now what are your other two wishes?” Bucky says with a wink. There’s a moment of silence before both you and Natasha burst out in laughter. “Again?!” Bucky scowls as he plops down next to you.

“Where’d you find that one, Barnes, slimeballzrus.com?” Nat quips and you grin, biting your lip to avoid laughing.

Bucky groans, plopping himself down in the seat next to you. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?” He frowns, and you pat his shoulder as reassuringly as you can.

“Oh Bucky, it really was.” You sigh, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze as he buries his face in his hands.

“I thought that one had the best chance!” His voice is muffled by his fingers as you and Nat share a look.

“Did you spend this morning looking up pickup lines online?” Nat asks, and Bucky nods.

“Oh Barnes, if you’re only using pickup lines you find on stupid websites, I’d bet you couldn’t even make Steve blush.” You tease, as Bucky’s eyes light up and he lifts his head.

“Well, how about you?” His face morphs into a sly grin, and your confusion builds.

“I’m sorry, what?” You look at Nat, who seems to understand, a smirk forming on her face.

“You said you’d bet I couldn’t make Steve blush, which might be true, since I’m not really his type, but I’d bet I could make you blush.” Bucky’s grin grows as your eyes widen, realization sinking in.

“Bucky I- you- I wasn’t serious!” You sputter. “Well, I mean, I was serious, but I didn’t actually mean I’d bet on it!” You look over at Natasha, who’s offering you no assistance.

“No, I think this sounds interesting. Barnes gets two weeks to make you blush using pickup lines.” Natasha proposes, and you groan.

“If I win, you have to help me get a girl. You’ve got to be my - what do they call it? Oh, wingman! You’ve got to be my wingman.” Bucky waggles his eyebrows at you and you frown, shaking your head. “What, are you afraid you’re going to lose?” You scowl, eyes narrowing as you glare at Bucky.

“Fine. But if I win, you have to be my fake boyfriend whenever some drunken idiot comes up to me at the bar and tries to hit on me.” Bucky starts nodding and opens his mouth to say something when you hold up one finger. “For a month.” He frowns, and you raise a brow at him. “A month, or no deal.”

“Fine. One month.” Bucky concedes, and Nat pipes up again.

“Great. The terms are set. Barnes has two weeks to make you blush using any pickup line he can find. He wins, you wingman him. You win, he helps ward off douchebags at the bar. Do you both agree?” You nod, and so does Bucky. “Then shake on it.”

You extend your hand while Bucky extends his. His large hand engulfs yours as he pumps your hand slowly, twice.

“The bet starts now.”

This is going to be a long two weeks.

Part 2

Tags: @childoftimeandmagic 

[a-splash-of-stucky]

Be My Muse [2/2]

Pairings: Bucky x Reader || Steve x Peggy (mentioned)

Summary: Modern AU. This part involves blind dates and fluffy confessions.

Warnings: Implied/mentioned smut. Language.

Notes: Part 2 for my entry into @just-some-drabbles‘ writing challenge.

[Part 1]

My Masterlist 

“I don’t want to go!” you whine petulantly.

You’re sat at your dressing table, Wanda standing behind you as she arranges your hair into a stylish updo. Natasha is perched on the table in front of you, helping you apply your blush and highlighter, whilst Peggy — in true Peggy fashion — is lying on the bed, contributing to the conversation every now and then.

“Really, Y/N, what’s the worst that could happen?” Natasha chides, dusting the makeup brush over your cheekbones.

“That the guy could be an asshole and this could go down as one of the worst dates in history?” you suggest.

“Actually, I think the worst date scenario is that the guy turns out to be rapist, or a serial killer, or something,” Wanda says solemnly, twisting another lock of hair over your ear and pinning it in place.

“And you remember what to do if he does turn out to be a rapist, don’t you?” Natasha asks, setting her brushes down and picking up a tube of red lipstick.

“I remember,” you sigh, “None of you are helping me calm my nerves, by the way,”.

“Y/N, I think you’re overthinking this,” Peggy pipes up, “I mean, really, this is Steve’s best friend, d’you honestly think he’s going to be so bad?”

“I dunno,” you sigh, “I guess not,”. Peggy has been talking to Steve almost non-stop since getting his number, and has told you countless times how nice he is. Steve speaks highly of this Bucky person, and you’re disinclined to think that he would lie about something like that. Ergo, Bucky must actually be a great guy.

“There. Done,” Natasha says, leaning back and tilting your chin up to examine her handiwork. “You look stunning, darlin’,”, she drawls.

“I agree,” Wanda says, finishing your hair off with a light mist of hairspray. “Whoever Bucky is, he’ll not be able to take his eyes off you,”.

“Thanks girls,” you murmur, standing up to admire yourself in the full length mirror by your bedroom door. “Wow,” you breathe, taking in the sight. This morning, the girls had helped you pick out a knee-length burgundy dress from a little boutique near your apartment. The dress accentuates your shoulders and collarbones in a most captivating manner, and the material hugs your body in all the right places, smoothing out your curves. You’ve paired it with simple gold jewellery and nude heels, wanting to keep the look simplistic, refined and elegant. Wanda and Nat have done an amazing job on hair and makeup, highlighting your natural beauty, without detracting or distracting from it.

Whoever Bucky is, he’ll certainly get some eye-candy tonight.

“So Steve says that Bucky’s going to be wearing all black,” Peggy says, coming to stand beside you. “Shirt, trousers, tie, everything. Can’t miss it. When you get there, just ask for reservation under Barnes,”.

“Got it,” you say absentmindedly, as you adjust the length of your delicate necklace.  

“I’ll be staying at their place tonight,” Wanda tells you, cocking her head in Nat’s direction. “Y’know. Just in case,” she adds, winking knowingly at you.

“Oh my god,” you groan, “You don’t have to, it’s not gonna come to that,”.

“Uh-huh,” Natasha mutters, crossing her arms. “I’ll believe it when I see it,”.

Your gaze drifts over to the clock beside your bed. “I should get going,” you say when you take note of the time, hastily grabbing your purse from your bed before heading out the door.

“Have fun!” Peggy calls

“Use a condom!” Nat adds.

You bark out a breathless laugh. “Will do!” you shout back, more to the first statement than the second, because the likelihood of that being necessary is little to none.

——————

When you get to the restaurant, you take a deep, steadying breath before pushing the door open.

“Good evening, madam,” says the maître d’, a kind-looking man who’s name tag says Scott, “How may I help you?”

“I have a reservation under Barnes,” you reply. He nods, checks the list, then makes a pleased humming noise. “Right this way,” he says, gesturing for you to follow.

You’ve never been to this particular Thai restaurant, though you’ve passed it several times on your way home from work. It’s fairly new, and by the looks of it, fairly popular, as nearly every table is full, giving the place a warm buzz of conversation. The fragrant smells of chilli, coconut and lime linger in the air, and every dish you catch sight of is presented elegantly. Scott weaves expertly through the narrow spaces between tables, leading you to the back of the room. He stops beside a table for two in the corner, where a man in an all black outfit is sitting, head bent over a menu.

Your heart stops.

That hair. That profile.

“James?” you ask in disbelief. His head whips up in surprise and his eyes widen, a glimmer of excitement shining in them.

For a moment, neither of you speaks, stunned into silence.

“Y/N,” James breathes.

Hurriedly, you sink into the chair opposite him and pull your menu closer. “Oh my god. You’re Bucky?” you ask, still trying to wrap your head around this revelation.

James — Bucky? — smiles ruefully. “It’s a nickname,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. You note, once more, how his left hand has a leather glove on it. “Mostly it’s just Steve that uses it. My real name is James Buchanan Barnes,”.

“Oh,” you murmur, “So which one would you like me to use?”

“Bucky,” he says immediately, “I only let special people use it,”.

Your heart flutters excitedly at that. “I can’t believe it’s you!” you exclaim, propping your elbow on the table and resting your chin on your hand. “I mean—I wish I’d given you my number, but—,”

“Yeah,” Bucky murmurs, “I kinda wished that too,”. He tilts his head to the side, eyes narrowing for a second. “Not the, I wish you’d given me your number—wait, I meant—ugh that came out wrong—of course I’d like that, but—I wish I’d given you my—,”.

“Bucky, I get it,” you soothe, interrupting him when you sense that he’s working himself into a frenzy. Bucky flushes, embarrassed at having gotten so flustered by your presence. “Let’s order first, shall we?” you suggest.

——————

“So you’re a writer, huh?”, you ask, once the waiter has taken your orders and cleared away your drinks.

Bucky grimaces, “Supposed to be one,”.

“How’s that writer’s block going?”

“Not moving anywhere,”, he sighs, scrubbing one hand over his face as he leans back into his seat. “It’s nothing something I can just…move. I’m either inspired or I’m not. There’s no in-between,”.

“Sorry about that,” you murmur, sensing that this is a touchy subject for him.

“Don’t be,”, Bucky replies, quirking his mouth into a lopsided grin. “S’not your fault,”.

You hum in agreement. Then, deciding to change tactics, slightly, you ask, “What kind of books do you write? I don’t recall hearing the name James Barnes anywhere,”.

Bucky hesitates, fiddling with his cutlery for a second. “I…write under a pseud, actually,”, he admits.

Your eyes widen in interest. “A pseudonym? That’s cool! What is it?”

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. “No. Not telling,”

“C’mon, please?” you whine. “You can’t leave me hanging! I wanna know,” you beg, drawing out the last word.

He huffs out a breath of air. “Fine. You’re gonna find it so dorky. It’s the Winter Soldier,”.

If your jaw could hit the floor, it would’ve. “The Winter Soldier? As in, the man who wrote the Howling Commandos?” you ask, mouth still gaping in utter disbelief.

“That’s me,” Bucky confirms, lips curling into a broader smile. “You’ve read it?”

You snort at the tentative hopefulness in his voice. “Who hasn’t?” you scoff, “That thing is a masterpiece! I’ve only read it about a hundred times,”.

“Only a hundred?” he quips, eyes glimmering with amusement, “I’m offended, doll,”.

You try to ignore the exhilarated flip in your stomach when you hear the pet name. “I’ve read all your other works too,” you gush, “Hydra was amazing, and so was Azzano, and Civil War, oh my god—oh, sorry, does this freak you out?” you ask, breaking off when you see the painfully apparent discomfort in his features.

Bucky shakes his head and laughs mirthlessly. “I—it’s kinda hard for me to talk about my writing,” he confesses, “I’ve…I haven’t written properly for a few months now, and thinking about it just makes me feel like a failure,”. A sympathetic twinge of pain shoots through your heart when you see his crestfallen expression.

“Hey,” you say softly, instinctively reaching across the table to touch his hand. It’s the gloved one, and, though he flinches, he doesn’t pull away. “You’re not a failure. So what if you’re taking a while to get inspiration? I’ve been trying to save up for my bakery for the last three years and I still only have half the amount I need. You just gotta keep trying. I believe in you,”.

Bucky smiles, bright and beautiful at you. He opens his mouth to say something, but the waiter comes by again, setting your dishes down in front of you. When he’s gone, Bucky murmurs a quiet, grateful, “Thank you,”.

“No problem,” you reply, picking up your spoon and preparing to dig into what is undoubtedly the most enticing-looking pineapple fried rice you’ve ever set eyes on. “I’m being serious, though. If it makes you feel any better, you’re writing is so…emotive. Your characters are always so complex, and the plot development, the prose…everything, it’s—impeccable. Unlike anything I’ve ever read,”.

He smiles shyly, ducking his head down to hide the blush colouring his cheeks at your praise. “What’s your favourite thing that I’ve written?” Bucky asks quietly.

You pause, thinking about your response. You chew your mouthful slowly, swallow and take a sip of water before answering. “I think it’s got to be Captain America,” you reply. “I mean, everything about it, the self-sacrifice, the relationship between him and his best friend, the sensitive treatment of PTSD, I just—it took my breath away,”.

“Really?” Bucky asks, “My first book? Surely my writing’s gotten better—,”

“It has,” you assure him, “Really, it has, but…I dunno. Something about the plot and the characters just connects with me. It’s a stunning piece of literature,”.

“Wow,” Bucky chuckles, taking another forkful of his curry. “I signed up for a blind date, and I got this wonderful pep talk instead,”.

“We all need a confidence boost sometimes,” you reply easily.

“Yeah,” he murmurs absentmindedly.

You eat in companionable silence for a minute, until curiosity gets the better of you. He is one of your favourite authors, after all. “So…if you don’t mind me asking…I mean, I know you’re having a block, but…how’re things—what’re you…” your voice trails off and your hands flail about, hoping that Bucky will somehow miraculously get the idea.

He laughs. “How’s my writing going? Why did I come up with a wall?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, “That,”.

Bucky hums thoughtfully. “It’s—the thing with my writing is that a lot of it is influenced by life experience,” he explains, “I served in the army for a while, which is why a lot of my stories are about battle and all that shit,”.

“Makes sense,” you say, taking another spoonful of your fried rice.

“Well, the thing is, I’ve wanted to branch out into…new things,” Bucky says, brows furrowed in concentration, trying to pick his words with care. “Military fiction is all well and good, but it’s not…not what I wanted to do, originally,”

“Genre-wise?” you ask.

“Yeah,”. Bucky hesitates, gnawing at his bottom lip restlessly.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t wanna,” you say quickly, “You’ve told me so much already—,”

“Romance,” Bucky blurts out, looking at you with frantic, nervous eyes, “That’s—that’s what I really want to do. I’ve…” he breaks off with a brittle laugh, “I’ve always had a liking for that sort of thing. Mundane characters, doing unremarkable things. Doesn’t sound the most interesting, but I guess that’s part of the challenge, right? Making something spectacular out of something ordinary,”.

“I’d read that,” you tell him, giving him an encouraging smile. “I think you’d put a whole new twist on the romance genre. Give everyone else a run for their money,”.

“Yeah, well,” Bucky huffs. “That’ll only happen if I can get a story out. I’ve been searching for my muse for god knows how long, and I still haven’t found it yet,”

“I hope you find inspiration soon,” you say quietly.

Bucky looks at you with a funny glint in his eyes, an expression you can’t quite place. “Yeah. Me too,”.

——————

“Let me walk you home,” Bucky says, holding the door open for you.

“Thank you, Bucky, but I can get back on my own,” you reply, smiling gratefully at him as you step out onto the street.  

He huffs out a laugh and nods. “I know. The thing is, you don’t have to,” he replies, chancing a coy, sideways glance at you.

You roll your eyes and flash him an amused smirk. “I don’t sleep with men I’ve just met, James,”.

“You didn’t just meet me,” Bucky points out, “We met a couple of days ago, remember?”

You giggle, but acquiesce his request, sliding your hand around his elbow. “Alright. Fine. Walk me home, if you’re so desperate,”.

——————

His lips are sweet, chaste, tender. The kiss is everything you’ve missed about being with someone, yet so much more. Your fingers tangle in Bucky’s dark hair, and his hand — just the one, just the right — cups the back of your neck, holding you in place. His left one rests stiffly at the small of your back.

“Come upstairs with me,” you breathe, lips brushing against his with every word.

Bucky laughs quietly. “You trying to get me to sleep with you?” he teases, flicking his tongue over the corner of your mouth.

“I don’t do one night stands, James,”, you drawl, nipping his bottom lip gently.

“Neither do I, doll,” he replies.

A tense silence passes, both of you trying to figure out the other’s intentions. “So—what?” you ask hesitantly, “Is this…not happening, or are we going to be something…more permanent?”

“I’m not going to force you into anything,”, Bucky murmurs, hands coming to cup your waist, “But I know what my answer is,”.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”.

You swallow, resting your forehead against his. “I have a feeling we’re on the same wave-length, then,”.

——————

Bucky crawls over you, lip caught between his teeth and a rakish gleam in his eyes. You reach up to cup his jaw, but he’s too quick, ducking his head down to pepper your neck with whisper-soft kisses. You sigh contentedly, arching into the touch.

Your hands wander down his front, nimble fingers making quick work of the buttons on his shirt. You tease every fresh patch of bare skin that is exposed, making him groan and hum against your neck. You’re about to push the shirt off when Bucky suddenly stills, pulling back and looking at you with a concerned expression.

“What’s wrong?”

He swallows. “I—um, need to tell you something,”

“Oh god, please don’t tell me you have an STD,” you breathe.

“No!”. Despite his nerves, he manages a dry chuckle. “No, it’s not that, I—,” he cuts himself off with a frustrated huff, running the fingers of his uncovered hand through his hair. “I was in the war. In Iraq,” Bucky says haltingly. “And…there was a grenade. And—well,”.

Instead of trying to explain it to you verbally, Bucky pulls off his leather glove, revealing a sleek, gleaming metal hand. The plates click and whirr softly as he flexes his fingers.

“Blasted the whole of my arm off,” Bucky murmurs. You can feel his eyes trained on your face. “This is a Stark invention,”. At your arched eyebrow, he nods. “Yep. The Tony Stark. Part of his prosthetics project. It’s just a prototype, but—it works, so I’m not complaining,”

You don’t reply, mutely taking in the metal appendage, in awe of it, really. Bucky takes your silence as your disapproval

“I’m sorry—I—it’s okay, if—,”

“No!” you cry, hand fisting in the front of his shirt to hold him still. “No, I’m not weirded out or anything, just curious. Can I touch it?”

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers, eyes darkening infinitesimally. He clears his throat. “Go ahead. Tony installed—not nerves, per se, but pressure and temperature sensors, so I can feel things,”.

You press a kiss to his lips, brush your thumb over his cheek, then slide your hands underneath his shirt, moving them towards his shoulders. Under your right fingers, you feel thick, ropey scars contrasting with smooth, slightly cool metal. At his nod, you slide the garment off, revealing his cybernetic arm in all its glory.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper.

——————

You’re utterly sated, back pressed against Bucky’s chest and legs entangled with his. Bucky’s flesh hand traces invisible patterns on your stomach, and his face is pressed into the back of your neck. The room is silent, save for the sound of your steady breaths.

“Doll?” Bucky whispers, lips grazing against your skin.

“Mmm?”

“I got this new idea for a story,”.

“Yeah?” you mumble, “Tell me about it,”.

“I think it’s going to be about…a man. An uninspired writer, feeling like the world’s closing in on him, trying to squeeze the fun outta life,”.

“Gee, sounds depressing,” you remark dryly.

“He’s suffering. No motivation, no drive, no desire to write anything. He walks into a shop one day and sees this gorgeous girl behind the counter—,”

Your breathing hitches.

“—And tries talking to her. Now she—she’s the sweetest thing he’s ever met. Kind, and funny, and humble. And it’s only ten minutes, but he finds himself falling in love with every little part of her,”.

Your heart thumps erratically behind your ribs.

“Thing is, he’s not sure how she feels about him,” Bucky continues, “He can’t stop thinking about her for the rest of the day. Later, his best friend sets him up for a blind date, and lo and behold — it’s the girl again,”.

“This storyline sounds familiar,” you mumble, forcing yourself to speak despite the parched sensation in your throat.

“Mmm. I told you I take inspiration from my own life,” he replies, “Anyway, he and the girl spend the evening talking about anything and everything. Conversation flows so easily, and…from just being with her, he feels more inspired than he’s ever been in a year,”. Bucky’s voice turns quiet and breathy, almost as if he’s afraid to say this last bit. “He’s found his muse, but he’s terrified that she’s going to run,”.

You squeeze his hand reassuringly, interlacing your fingers with his own. “I think that’s going to be a great story, Bucky,” you whisper, hoping against all hope that his confession implies what you think it implies.

Bucky is silent for a long while after that, and, if it weren’t for the cadence of his breathing, you’d think that he might’ve fallen asleep. “I don’t know how it ends, though. Will they have a happy ending?”

His tone is simultaneously hopeful and afraid, and it’s doing all sorts of things to your over-excited heart. You twist in his arms so that you can look at Bucky properly. “I hope so,” you say softly, cupping his cheek with your hand. Bucky leans into the touch, catching your wrist and holding it in place as he turns his head to press a kiss to your palm.

“Will you stay?” Bucky asks, eyes glimmering with a million unspoken pleas, “Will you be my muse?”

You smile indulgently at him. “I’d like to see how this story ends,”.

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[imhereforbvcky]

Pick Her Poison

Summary: Coffee shop meet cute: Bucky tries to convince you to have coffee with him.

Prompt(s): “I can fix this” for @just-some-drabbles​’ RomCom challenge!

Warnings: I think I swore once?

Word Count: 2557

It was a gloomy fall day all around. The grey and drizzle outside had persisted at least since you’d woke well before dawn that morning and trudged to your bus stop and into work. Even in your waterproof hooded jacket, the humidity clung to your skin and filled your lungs like a smooth heavy smoke.

Once you unlocked the door and shrugged out of your dripping coat, you rubbed your hands together and got to the first order of business: making yourself some coffee. With the lights to the shop still dim and the world outside not quite waking, you started up the massive ovens and pulled out the racks of small pastries the night shift had prepared before closing yesterday. The morning continued as always, you buzzed through the small shop, swapping fresh baked pastries from the oven to the display case, sometimes adding a drizzle of sweet, sticky icing, sometimes a bit of orange zest, sometimes a thick, warm chocolate sauce that would firm up just enough to stick as it cooled.

You still had about half an hour before you opened, when you finally turned off the ovens and put a shiny, sweet, clear glaze over a set of blueberry-peach tarts. There was no rush; it was the last batch for the morning so you painted the sticky gloss onto the fruit carefully, enjoying the familiar routine and humming along to the quiet acoustic covers playlist you’d put on. Your focus was interrupted by a rattling at the door.

A tall, broad figure in a dark hoodie and deep green cotton jacket tugged on the door, and finding it locked, dropped his head back in what you guessed to be a groan. How many times had you been there, rattling the security cage of the dry cleaner’s or begging the pharmacist behind the closed wall of metal to please, for the love of god, just hand you the already filled prescription sitting right fucking there. With a warm smile and a near laugh, you walked to the door and held it open for him.

As you reached for the light switch, finally illuminating the rest of the cafe beyond your oven and display area, he pushed back the hood and pushed his hands into his hair shaking out the dark, dripping locks. A few thick pieces fell forward near his eyes and when you turned back to him, prepared to make some mindless customer service small talk the words disappeared in your mouth. God he was so… his grey-blue eyes were piercing, especially against the dark shine of his slick hair. A drop of rainwater made a path down the slope of his nose as you took in the thick layer of scruff covering his jaw and those soft looking pink lips that you realized were moving. Shit. He was talking to you.

“...just pouring out. Thanks for opening up for me.”

“Oh uh, yeah, no problem,” you managed to recover. You smiled at him before quickly turning back toward the counter, praying he didn’t see the way you chewed your lip nervously. “Looks like it’s really coming down now, I think you need a better rain jacket.”

He chuckled softly and waited until you’d made it around the counter to face him before answering. “I guess it’s not really carrying its weight in this weather,” he agreed, running his fingers over the edge of the sopping dark green cotton. “But I’m sentimental.”

“Hmm sentimental and impractical,” you teased, shaking your head, “A dangerous combination. Sounds like you might be a romantic.”

The warm wave of his laughter hit your ears but it felt like it’d slammed into your gut. It was so rich and yet somehow gritty at the same time. And it sent little flutters through you as you grinned back at him and stepped into place behind the register. God, he had to see how hopelessly you were mesmerized by him.

“I’ve been called a lot of things before, sweetheart, but that is definitely not one of them.”

For some reason the little nickname that would normally make your blood boil, only sent another flutter through your stomach. This sopping stranger impeding on your quiet morning had somehow captured your full attention in the most pleasant way. He couldn’t have been more cryptic if he tried, you knew absolutely nothing about him apart from his sentimental love for that jacket and that he was an early riser.

“Alright then, stranger, what can I get for you?” you asked.

He pulled out a neatly folded, now soggy, piece of paper and tried to make out his own smeared scribbles as you copied them down, making sure to catch the names next to each order.

As you got to work on the drinks, you asked which was his, offering to make it first while he waited and sliding him a chocolate croissant. You took note of his name from the list of orders. “Bucky.” It certainly wasn’t the name you were expecting. When you asked about it he explained and the pair of you fell into casual conversation while you worked. It was light and easy. He was somehow both charming and a little reserved all at once and it drew you in like a magnet.

“There you go,” you smiled warmly, drinking in the cool blue-grey that stared back at you with a bright smile.

He thanked you and turned to go but stopped short. For a second, you panicked, making sure you hadn’t forgotten any of his order.

He quickly turned back to you, like he was forcing the words out as fast as he could before he lost his nerve. “Hey, when does your shift end?”

You looked at him with wide eyes, your mouth gaping open and closed, searching for the right answer. You liked him - a lot - but even you knew not to tell a complete stranger the ins and outs of your schedule. “Later today,” you finally managed, taking a rag and cleaning the espresso machine.

“I… sorry,” he stumbled, “I just… can I buy you a coffee?”

You glanced, purposefully at the large espresso machine in front of you and the bags and bags of coffee beans lined up behind you and offering only a playful smile.

“Right,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, how about tea? Hot chocolate? It seems a little early in the day for a hot toddy but…”

You laughed, leaning forward on the counter. Not wanting to let this go, but also unsure how to proceed. “I’ll tell you what, if you ever make it back here and you figure out my drink, I’ll come drink it with you.”

“I’ll take that offer,” he called to you with a wink as he backed out the door.

Bucky did make it back. He came early again a few days later and made the same long order plus one. The last drink he hadn’t written down for you. Instead, he narrowed his eyes, giving you a quick once over before asking for a mocha with caramel.

You smiled and began making the drinks. “Someone’s got a sweet tooth,” you observed, writing the order on the side of the cup and waiting for a name to write on it.

“Hopefully you,” he smirked, leaning forward with his elbow propped on the tall bar top.

“Is this for me?” you asked, incredulous that he’d been bold enough to just order the thing. He didn’t even know if you’d like it.

“It is if it’s your drink,” his smile grew into this playful arrogant thing that you somehow wanted to both savor and wipe off his face at the same time.

“Afraid not,” you grinned, sliding it over to him.

This continued for weeks. He’d come in every couple of days and order what he thought you might like. Sometimes he came early and ordered a handful of other coffees and left with a glance at you of apparent serious concentration, like he would decipher some code to your favorite coffee just by looking at you. Other times he just ordered his usual and something new for you and he’d sit by the window working on some paperwork, always glancing at you as if he expected you to change your mind and take the seat opposite him. But a deal’s a deal and you wouldn’t be stuck with the sugar coma drinks he always guessed at.

Rather quickly, you found yourself eager to come into work, hoping he’d come in and try again, that he’d smile at you and set your day off on a high. Honestly, there was no reason for you to keep tugging him along like this other than that it was the game now and you loved his attention. You loved how it felt to see him walk in and lean on his elbows on the bar top and explain exactly why he thought you had to be a pumpkin spice girl. If he’d just asked you out, you would’ve said yes. But this game made you feel special and important to someone and that just felt too damn good.

On one of these days he sat in his usual seat, bent over some paperwork. He’d already finished his own coffee and had started in on the failed drink he’d ordered for you. In truth, you wanted to laugh. The menu wasn’t that big, how could he take so damn long to figure it out?

“Well don’t you look dreamy today,” Natasha, one of your regulars, observed as she hovered by the register, taking in your far off stare. You honestly hadn’t even seen her. She definitely had a way of slipping in unnoticed and scaring the shit out of you if you were preoccupied with something else. She was like a cat. A very pretty cat. But you’d gotten used to it; she was a regular and a very fun one. The two of you had become friendly acquaintances, and you sometimes shared the odd things that happened in your day or gushed over common interests while she waited for her cinnamon macchiato, extra shot.

“I do not,” you dodged, shaking it off.

“Yes, yes you definitely do,” she insisted. You ignored her and turned to start making her drink, but she wouldn’t let it go. “Oh! Is the guy here?” She spun quickly, surveying the room for anyone watching you more closely than the others.

Finally relenting, you nodded behind her, “Yeah, your eight o’clock. Green jacket by the window.”

She casually turned to her left, leaning on the bar as if she were just coolly waiting. As her eyes landed on him, a sly smile crept across her face.

“Oh my god,” she muttered, rolling her eyes before turning back to you.

“I know, he’s cute right?” you laughed, “Like, really cute. Oh my god, Tash, you should have seen him that first day! Just a sopping cute puppy. I don’t know what the hell he’s doing waiting around here buying all these stupid drinks for me.”

She nearly snorted out a laugh. She and Sam had been teasing him relentlessly about his sudden taste for expensive coffee shop beverages and his recent eagerness to make the coffee runs.

“I think that’s pretty obvious,” she grinned, taking her drink and winking before she headed for the door.

You stuck your tongue out at her and laughed before getting back to work cleaning up after the morning rush. Letting your attention drift to your work, you didn’t notice as Natasha stopped in front of the window where Bucky was working. She tapped on the glass sharply, drawing his attention immediately. She pointed to him and then curled her finger back, beckoning for him to follow her.

She didn’t wait for him but he caught up anyway.

“So that’s why you keep making the coffee runs,” she smirked, only glancing at him as he stared at her, amazed at how she always seemed to know everything.

“What? What are you--?”

“Y/N. The coffee girl,” she deadpanned, taking a sip of her drink as they walked. “When are you going to stop this stalker thing and just ask her out?”

“I’m not…” he thought for a minute and then groaned, “Shit is this creepy? Does she think I’m stalking her?!” He was genuinely worried, suddenly shoving his hand into his hair, a nervous habit.

Natasha laughed. “No! I mean, it would be creepy if she weren’t into you. But she clearly is, so why haven’t you just asked her out yet?”

“I don’t know, it was kind of this thing where I’m trying to figure out what she likes to drink… Shit. It’s weird isn’t it?” Bucky had worried himself into never wanting to go back again.

“Okay, relax, I can fix this.”

“You are a cheater,” Bucky called clearly, arching his eyebrow as he approached your counter, daring you to disagree.

“I beg your pardon?” you laughed.

“You don’t even have a favorite drink!” he slammed both hands on the counter, like he was exasperated, but the small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips gave him away.

“I don’t?” you asked, drawing out the words as you turned to start his usual.

“Nope. It depends on the day, doesn’t it?” he followed you down the bar to watch you closely. “In the fall you like cider with lots of cinnamon and nutmeg. When it’s extra cold you like a mocha, but with an extra shot so it’s not too sweet. When it’s warm and breezy you like iced chai with a little honey. But at night, when you can’t sleep, I bet you go for good old fashioned hot chocolate.”

“Wow!” You were genuinely surprised and he could read it all over your face. “And how do you know all this?” you asked, sliding his drink to him and lifting your steaming hot cider, extra cinnamon and nutmeg to your lips.

“I did my research this time,” he grinned. You continued to stare at him, more than a little confused. “Natasha told me. She knows everything about everyone. But that’s not the big question.”

Now you really were confused. You set down your mug of cider and grabbed a chocolate croissant out of the display case for him.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What’s the big question?” you asked.

“The big question is: does your little trick mean that you really, really don’t want to have coffee with me and I should find a new coffee shop because I’ve harassed you for weeks without even realizing and should be too embarrassed to ever come back now? Or does it mean you wanted me to keep coming back and I should up the ante and ask you to come have dinner with me?”

You couldn’t help laughing, suddenly realizing your own mistake and relieved that Bucky had persisted. You wound your way around the counter with your cider in hand and sat at his usual table. “Definitely the latter.” With a nod to the seat across from you where he always sat, you smiled, warm and excited, finally, finally making good on your deal.

“Oh thank god,” Bucky sighed, taking a seat and picking up the croissant. “Because I’m addicted to these now. I don’t know if I could give them up.”

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[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

A Bump in the Road: Chapter 5

Summary:  Your life was turned upside down, but you’ve managed to make the most you could out of the wreckage that is your life, getting a new job with the Avengers... and discovering the identity of your mystery gentleman! The meddling of your friends gets you into a sticky situation. Pairing: Bucky x Female!Reader Warnings: Swearing (as always), fluff, violence Word Count: ~4,858 A/N: @just-some-drabbles This is for JSD’s Rom-Com challenge. Should I have written and posted this earlier today? Probably. Did I feel like it? Ha. Hahaha. No. Sorry this took so long to get out, but I think it’s worth the wait. Thank you everyone for coming on this journey with me! It was a joy to write and I hope it was a joy to read.

Masterlist // Previous Chapter

He looked down at you, surprised. You sought comfort from him, afraid of the heroes in front of you? Today must be opposite day, but he decided not to question it.

“Ready to meet ‘em?” he asked gently, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

You looked up at him, wide-eyed, trepidation clear on your face, and nodded.

Your first few weeks working at the base was a whirlwind of activity and you, somehow, seemed to find yourself around Bucky more often than not.

You had a sneaking suspicion the other Avengers were to blame, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were enjoying your time with him so much it was almost scary. Your first impression of him had been correct; he was just as kind and compassionate as he appeared, maybe even more so because of his past.

Natasha had subtly interrogated you under the guise of having a fun meal together, and Wanda kept trying to ask you about your (recently explosive) love life in the form of asking for relationship advice. Steve simply gave you suspiciously encouraging smiles whenever he saw the two of you together.

If Bucky noticed their actions, he didn’t say anything (except for once when he’d told Steve to buzz off when he’d gotten too obvious about eavesdropping).

Besides all the attempted match making and not-so-subtle prying into your thoughts on Bucky, your first couple weeks at the compound went smoothly. 

So, of course, leave it to the universe to throw you a curve ball.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Nat called to you from across the office, earning her a few dirty glares from your coworkers. A few of them gave her friendly waves which she returned with a wave of her own accompanied by a smirk.

“Hey, Nat. I was just finishing up,” you said at a much more reasonable volume than hers, closing out the spreadsheets and reports from your most recent case.

“Perfect timing, then. Wanna go get dinner together? This new place just opened up downtown and I’ve been dying to try it. Got a table reserved and everything,” she said, winking at you conspiratorially.

“What, like a gal pal date?” you asked, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Well it sounds lame when you put it like that. I was thinking more along the lines of: Two strong independent women experiencing new haute cuisine as they get to know each other better, paid for unknowingly by a rich playboy philanthropist,” she said, smiling.

“That sounds like the plot to a porno. A bad one,” you said, crossing your arms.

She groaned and rested her forehead against your cubicle’s wall. “Will you come eat delicious sushi with me or not?” she asked, devoid of all emotion except annoyance.

“You should have just led with ‘free sushi.’ Would have saved you some time,” you said, grinning.

“So that’s a yes? I don’t have to give the table away?” she asked, eyeing you expectantly.

“Yeah, Nat. We can get sushi together. What time and where?” you asked as you turned your computer off and packed up your work bag.

“I’ll text it to you!” she promised, grinning as she quickly retreated back out of your office, giving you a wave as she disappeared out the door and around the corner.

You sighed as you grabbed your bag and followed in her wake, heading back to the residential building.

You were halfway back when you ran straight into a wall and barely kept yourself from falling over. You winced, rubbing your nose tenderly. That really hurt. You looked up and realized it wasn’t a wall, but a person.

You thought that had felt familiar.

Bucky looked mortified, hands up in uncertainty as he searched you for any injuries.

“We’ve got to stop running into each other like this, Soldier,” you said playfully, giving him a small smile.

Realizing you were alright, he broke out into a smile, too. “That was a horrible joke,” he chastised, smile betraying his words.

“I thought it was pretty funny,” you countered, smiling mischievously.

“I could come up with better material and I’m practically a fossil,” he said crossing his arms. “Anyway, where are you headed? Back to RB?” he asked, pointing over his shoulder to it with his thumb.

“Yeah,” you said, glancing at it warily over his shoulder. You shuffled your feet a little, not wanting to leave his company just yet.

He must’ve been having similar thoughts. “I can walk you back, if you’d like?” he asked hesitantly.

You tried not to smile like an idiot at his offer and failed spectacularly. “Yeah, that would be nice,” you said pleasantly, trying to rein in your excitement.

He reached his hand out towards your bag expectantly and you raised an eyebrow at him. Was he always the perfect gentleman? Probably. “Allow me,” he said easily, earnest smile on his lips. His blue eyes were so soft when he looked at you, you thought you were going to melt.

“Thank you,” you said shyly, handing him the bag, which he slung over the shoulder opposite you.

“You’re welcome,” he said genially, looking away, not quite able to hide the pink dusting his cheeks.

You both wordlessly turned towards the residential building and began walking towards it (much, much slower than you had to).

“Got any plans tonight?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence between the two of you.

You looked at him, startled. You couldn’t even begin to fathom why he was asking you about your evening plans. Maybe he was just making polite small talk? That would be the gentlemanly thing to do, wouldn’t it?

“Nat’s dragging me downtown to go to a new restaurant,” you said, slightly forced smile on your lips. You’d rather spend the evening in Bucky’s company, but you’d never tell him that. There was no way he felt the same way about you.

You were so preoccupied with your own thoughts you missed the flash of disappointment on Bucky’s face. “Yeah, Steve’s dragging me out tonight, too.” He’d hoped he could cancel with Steve and spend the evening with you, but it seemed you had other plans.

“Oh? Where to?” you asked as the two of you entered the residential building. He, of course, held the door open for you.

“I wasn’t listening too closely. Something about some new art exhibit or something?” he said sheepishly.

“Oh, I heard about that! Its opening tonight, I think! They have an exhibit featuring pieces from people who’re from countries torn apart by war! It’s amazing, compelling, and intense, from what I hear,” you said excitedly. One of the families you’d helped had a son who had a piece in the gallery, and you’d wanted to go and see it but hadn’t had the time to get yourself a ticket.

“I could take you some time, if you wanted,” his mouth blurted out before his brain had time to process the sentence. His eyes widened, terrified, as his gaze snapped to yours, but you were smiling widely.

“That would be amazing!” you said eagerly. You seemed to realize how excited you were because you glanced away, eyes trained on the wall as you pressed the button for the elevator. “I mean, uh. That would be fun. I think I would enjoy that,” you said more evenly, heat creeping into your cheeks. You needed to calm down before he thought you were a weirdo.

He frowned as both of you stepped onto the elevator. He pressed the button for your floor (he’d memorized your floor level and room number the first time you told him, but he’d never admit that to anyone). You were so hard to read sometimes. One minute you seemed thrilled to be around him, the next you seemed indifferent to his presence. He wondered if he’d just lost all ability to read women between now and the 40′s. It was entirely possible and the thought made him nauseous.

“Me too,” he said sincerely, smiling at you.

“How did your last mission go?” you asked as the elevator made its way downwards.

“For once, it actually went perfectly. Everyone got their tasks done at exactly the right time, and all hostages were recovered unharmed... Well, mostly unharmed. One guy tripped over his own two feet and gave himself a bloody nose on the ground, but I’m not counting that,” he said, snorting at the memory. The elevator doors opened and the two of you exited and headed towards your room.

You smirked at the man in the story. “Well, I suppose he should be thankful to only have a bloody nose. I know I would be. Good job, Bucky,” you said, smiling earnestly at him.

“Well, as some pretty amazing people once told me, it’s the right thing to do,” he said, winking slyly at you.

You gulped probably a bit too loudly. Bucky thought you were amazing? You couldn’t stop the excited grin that lit up your features.

A moment later you were at your room’s door. You punched the pin number into the number pad (Bucky averted his eyes) and the door swung open easily. Bucky handed you your bag and, if you didn’t know any better, seemed reluctant to do so.

“I’ll see you later?” he asked as casually as he could manage.

You smiled at him. “Yeah, see you later,” you agreed. You paused, torn, and, before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around his waist and gave him a quick hug. “Thank you for walking me back!” you squeaked. You released him quickly and retreated back into your room, glancing over your shoulder at the last second before the door closed.

He was standing there, looking confused, hand raised slightly to wave goodbye, though he seemed frozen in place. He couldn’t even get his thoughts together enough to wish you a good night.

Your heart was pounding in your chest. Oh god, why did I hug him? That was so weird! He was looking at me like I had two heads. Oh, hell, I’m not going to be able to look him in the face tomorrow. Probably never again, for that matter, you lamented.

Your phone vibrated and you dug it out of your pocket. It was a text from Nat, detailing where and when you’d be going for dinner tonight. It said she had business in town so she’d be going ahead of you and that you should meet her there. You sent a quick text to Wanda, asking to borrow her car, to which she happily responded that you could.

The time for the reservation was looming closer, so you got changed. You settled on wearing the blouse Bucky had bought you and a nice pair of navy pants and followed it up with your favorite pair of flat-heeled boots. You refreshed your makeup, and, with a satisfied look in the mirror, grabbed your purse and headed out the door.

Wanda was in a great mood as she handed off her keys to you, making you promise to have fun and be safe. You’d agreed, but her enthusiasm was suspiciously high for lending someone her car. You decided to ignore it and made your way to the garage.

Half an hour later you were pulling into the parking garage next to the restaurant. You locked the car up and headed to the elevator, pulling out your phone as you went.

You dialed Nat’s number and she picked up as you were exiting the elevator.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” She said, sounding distracted.

“Hey, Nat. I’m here, are you inside already?” you asked, making your way towards the restaurant.

“Oh, perfect! Just make your way inside, tell them you have a reservation under the name ‘Stark,’” Natasha said. You could hear some people talking in the background, meaning she must have been inside already.

“Alright, see you in a sec,” you said, then ended the call.

You gave the maitre d’ the name Stark.

He nodded, “Ah, yes, the other member of your party has already arrived. Right this way,” he said, gesturing for you to follow a different server, who started walking into the restaurant.

You had to hand it to them, this restaurant was beautiful. Sleek, elegant, and modern but somehow still capturing the beauty of ancient Japan. If the food was even half as nice as the decor, you’d have to come back again.

You were so distracted that you nearly ran into the server when he stopped, mumbling an apology as you looked over at Nat, smile on your face.

Only, it wasn’t Nat sitting at the table. It was Bucky, and he looked just as surprised as you.

The smile slid straight off of your face. Had you given the wrong name? Were you hallucinating? Suddenly, your mind flashed back to talking to Wanda and Natasha today. They’d both been too excited and too insistent that you go out tonight. Recalling the phone call... hadn’t that been Sam and Wanda talking in the background?

They’d set this up.

“Are you alright, miss?” the server asked, looking at you with concern.

“Ah, uh. Yes. I’m just fine,” you said, smile returning in earnest. Damn those two. They’d pay for this... but until then, you’d enjoy tonight.

“Here, allow me,” Bucky said quickly, standing to pull your chair out for you. He’d seemed just as shocked as you had a moment ago, but he was already regaining his composure.

“Thank you,” you said, heat dusting your cheeks as you took your seat and he pushed it in for you. He sat back down in his chair, a knowing smile on his face.

The waiter took your drink orders down, promising to return in a few minutes for your orders.

“Let me guess, you had no idea I’d be here,” Bucky said casually.

“And you had no idea I’d be here,” you countered, peeking at him over the menu.

“Natasha, right?” he asked knowingly.

“And Wanda,” you said, grinning. “Steve?”

He nodded. “Told me he got a mission last minute, but he’s a rotten liar. Didn’t feel like puttin’ this reservation to waste, though.”

“What about your tickets to the opening of the art museum?” you asked, remembering the conversation from earlier.

“Still have ‘em. Would you.. still feel like going? With me?” he asked shyly.

Your heart fluttered in your chest. This was just like... a date? “Yeah, I’d like to go. With you,” you said awkwardly. You hid your face in your menu, unable to look at him.

If you had, though, you would have seen the dazzling smile on his face.

“Are you ready to order?” the server asked, returning with notepad in hand.

You glanced at each other, both nodding that you were ready.

“Ladies first,” Bucky said, nodding his head politely towards you.

An hour later you were leaving the restaurant, full of sushi and miso soup. Now that you’d calmed down enough to finally get a look at him, you had to admit he looked amazing- well, even more amazing than normal. He was wearing a tight-fitting leather jacket that he’d taken off in the restaurant, and it left little to the imagination. His muscles were defined under the supple-looking leather, but the jacket had nothing on the pants. You had to consciously avoid looking at his ass, for fear of looking like a complete creep. It was difficult. Altogether it looked like a-

“Wanna ride with me to the gallery?” he asked jerking his thumb at an impressive black motorcycle behind him.

-a motorcycle suit.

You looked from him to the motorcycle and back. He grabbed the helmet, which had been strapped to the front of the bike, and offered it to you.

“You’re serious?” you asked hesitantly.

His face fell, hand dropping slightly. “If you don’t want to, it’s fine, I just-”

“I want to!” you said hurriedly, grabbing the helmet. He smiled, relieved, and you felt your heart flutter a bit.

Oh, god, is this really happening? you thought excitedly to yourself. He swung his leg easily over the massive bike while you put the helmet on. He looked over at you and chuckled, beckoning you over to him with a wave. You stepped forward, confused.

He reached up and brushed your hair out of the way gently before carefully buckling the helmet.

“Won’t do you much good if it flies off,” he said, smiling.

“I trust your ability to not get us into a situation where that would even happen,” you said cheekily as you clambered on the bike behind him. “Don’t you need one?” you asked curiously.

“Legally? Yes. Physically? Not so much,” he said, grinning. “You should hold on,” he warned as the machine roared to life.

You panicked for a half second. Hold on? Hold on where? When he kicked the stand up and the bike righted itself completely you lurched forward, wrapping your arms around his waist. Satisfied that you weren’t about to fall off he pulled easily away from the curb and, like that, you were off to the art museum on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle. You thanked your lucky stars you’d chosen to wear pants.

As you got more used to being on the bike, you relaxed a bit, but you still kept a firm hold on Bucky. It was hard to ignore the hard planes of muscles you felt underneath his jacket, or the way your body felt tucked against his. You tried to fight down your impure thoughts by enjoying the scenery speeding past, but your thoughts kept going back to Bucky every time you felt the subtle shift of his muscles and limbs as he expertly wove in and out of New York traffic.

Too soon for your liking, you arrived at the gallery. Bucky parked the bike outside, and you stepped off first. What you hadn’t been expecting was for your legs nearly giving out underneath you. Your hand flew to his shoulder to steady yourself, but he’d already caught you around the waist with his right arm.

“First time on a motorcycle?” he asked kindly.

“Yeah,” you said breathlessly as you took the helmet off. You hoped you didn’t have helmet hair. You took a few deep breaths and stood up straight, a little more confident in your legs’ ability to hold you up now that you’d calmed down a bit. He slowly let you go and you missed the warmth and comfort his arm had provided you.

“Did you like it, at least?” he asked, putting the helmet back on the bike as he stepped off, trepidation clear on his face.

“Are you kidding me? That was amazing!” you said excitedly, smiling brightly.

He smiled back. “Glad you liked it,” he said, shoving his keys in his pocket. “Now, I think we have some art to appreciate?” he asked, holding his elbow out for you to take. You smiled bashfully and took it, and the two of you walked towards the exhibit.

You should have known tonight was too good. You didn’t have luck like that.

“(Y/N)?” a voice asked from behind you. You knew that voice-

Both you and Bucky turned to its source, and you felt your blood freeze in your veins.

“I thought that was you!” Austin said excitedly as he trotted up to you like a lost puppy. “You haven’t been answering my calls or texts! You left some of your things at my place-”

Not wanting to create a scene, you grabbed Bucky’s arm and quickly began dragging him towards the door. He looked confused, but you couldn’t explain what was happening just then. Maybe, just maybe, if you got out of there right then you could pretend this never happened; like you’d never seen your bastard ex.

You were stopped by him grabbing your wrist. “Wait, (Y/N)! I wasn’t done talking to you!” he said testily, forcing you to turn and look at him with a hard tug on your arm.

You tried to wrench your wrist from his grasp, but his grip was like iron. 

“I know things between us got a little messy, but I’ve changed! I haven’t seen that woman since things blew up that day. I cut her out of my life. I realized how much I love you and-“

“Let her go,” Bucky said, tone deadly. He’d stepped between you and Austin, towering over him by at least half a foot. He had to be about twice as wide, too.

“Who the hell are you, pal?” Austin asked, eyeing the way you placed a hand on Bucky’s back, seeking comfort.

“James Barnes, but most people call me Bucky,” he said, holding his left hand out for Austin to shake, metal shining in the fluorescent lights.

Austin blanched almost comically as he looked down at Bucky’s hand then back up at his face, but, to his credit, stood his ground, ignoring the outstretched hand. He did, however, let go of your wrist, which you rubbed tenderly.

“I was talking to (Y/N), not you,” he said, jutting his chin out as he glared up at Bucky.

“I don’t think she wants to talk to you, pal,” Bucky said, warning clear in his voice.

He turned his attention from Bucky to you, eyes softening immediately. “Baby, please. We can talk about this. I miss you. I love you,” he said, simpering smile on his face. How had you ever loved this man?

“Piss off,” you said, glaring angrily at him, turning on your heel. You grabbed Bucky’s hand and dragged him behind you. He gave you a reassuring squeeze as he followed you towards the door, acknowledging you needed to get out of there without asking questions you didn’t want to answer just then.

When Austin opened his mouth again you’d only made it a few steps. His words made your blood boil in a way it hadn’t when he’d been talking about you.

“You sure replaced me quick, baby. And with that fucking monster, too,” he spat loudly enough for most of the patrons in the exhibit to turn and watch the scene playing out in front of them.

You turned to look at him slowly, face murderous. “What did you just say?” you hissed venomously.

“Doll, we should just go-” Bucky said. You’d caught the way his face had darkened at Austin’s words. It seemed like he, too, wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, but you just couldn’t.

“I said you’re with a goddamned monster!” Austin yelled, loving the attention. “Do you even know how many people he’s killed? The bastard has a metal arm, for chrissake!”

You dropped Bucky’s hand and closed the distance between you and Austin in a few long strides. Austin was so preoccupied looking at the audience he’d gathered, he didn’t see your fist flying straight for his face. It connected to his jaw with a satisfying smack, and his head flew to the side. He lost his balance and nearly fell over. You grabbed his designer tie and tugged him forward, pulling him down to your eye level.

“You don’t know the first thing about him, you cheating sack of shit!” You yelled, kneeing him in the groin. He doubled over, clutching at his manhood, a choice string of expletives leaving his lips in a hiss. “He’s a kind, good man who’s served his country for longer than you’ve been alive. He couldn’t control what those fucks in Hydra made him do, and you sure as hell don’t get to sit there and judge him while he takes back control of his life, you pathetic fucking excuse for a human being,” you said, releasing his tie and shoving him backwards. “If you talk to me ever again, you’ll regret it,” you said dangerously, giving him one last glare before you spun on your heel. You heard him mutter angrily under his breath, but he had the good sense to stop talking to you.

Bucky was standing there, a mixture of awe and shock on his face.

“Let’s get out of here,” you muttered, suddenly embarrassed, and grabbed his hand as you made a hasty retreat towards the door before security could make an appearance.

Once you were out on the street and halfway down the block, you stopped, the tears that had been threatening to spill flowing freely down your face.

You thought you’d gotten past it; Gotten through those ugly feelings, buried them inside yourself, but you were wrong. Seeing that bastard again had drudged it all up again, leaving you as raw, exposed, and hurt as the day it happened.

You were surprised when Bucky’s arms closed around you, pulling you gently to his chest. That was all it took for you to start sobbing in earnest, makeup likely ruining his shirt. He held you, stroking your hair gently, murmuring comforting words into your hair, for who knew how long. Time didn’t seem to have any meaning while you were falling apart at the seams.

When you’d finally calmed down a little bit, tears mostly dried, he spoke up, his voice a deep rumble in his chest. “You were amazing in there, Doll,” he mumbled, leaning back a little to peek down at you, his blue eyes studying you closely.

You hummed noncommittally, burying your face in his chest in embarrassment.

“Did you really mean all that? About me?” he asked tentatively, rubbing your back comfortingly.

Without removing your face from his chest, you nodded slowly, heat creeping up from your neck to your cheeks.

You missed the look of stunned happiness on his face, too scared to look up at him as you were.

“Hey, Doll?” he asked, smile clear in his voice. You pulled back enough to peek up at him hesitantly, eyes widening when you saw the look on his face.

If you had to assign a word to it, it would be... adoration, maybe?

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” he asked bravely, bolstered by your earlier words.

You jaw dropped. He was asking you out, even after everything that just happened? He... didn’t care about your emotional outburst just now? Or the baggage you obviously came with? You realized he was waiting for an answer, and closed your gaping mouth with a snap.

“You mean... this wasn’t a date?” you asked, unsure. It sure had felt like one.

“I mean... I want to go on a date with you, where I ask you out myself- and we decide what to do... without the meddling of our well-meaning friends,” he explained, smile unsure.

“So this was a date?” you teased, eyebrow raised, small smile on your lips.

“If you want it to be, definitely,” he said, hope clear in his voice.

Ah, you’d been an oblivious fool, hadn’t you? Feeling brave, you pulled him down by the collar of his jacket while you stood on your tip toes and placed a gentle, chaste kiss to his lips. You pulled back before he could even process what had happened. He stared at you as though you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and cupped your cheek with his hand, stroking it gently with his thumb.

“Yes,” you said simply, leaning into his touch as you beamed up at him.

“Yes?” he asked, eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Yes, I want this to be a date, and I’d love to go on another one with you,” you said, chuckling a little at his dumbfounded expression.

Suddenly, you found yourself lifted in the air and your hands flew to his shoulders as he spun you around, holding you by the back of your legs, laughing happily. The world stopped spinning as he set you down gently and leaned down until he was about eye level with you.

“May I kiss you?” he asked, tone clearly saying he thought he was overstepping, but you smiled shyly and nodded.

He beamed at you, closing his eyes as he closed the small distance between you, his soft lips crashing against yours. You kissed back eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck as his snaked around your waist, pulling you to his chest. The world fell away around you until there was only Bucky and the way his lips felt against yours; the way you fit perfectly against him. You decided you liked the feeling very much and never wanted it to stop. You needed to come up for air eventually, though, and he broke the kiss, the both of you panting slightly, eyes filled with emotion. He leaned his forehead against yours, smiling widely, and you returned it, your smile lighting up your face.

Yes, you thought to yourself. I could get used to this.

The End

This series is finished, but if you want to be tagged in my other fics, check out this post! Sorry, but responses to this post asking to be tagged will be ignored, so send me an ask or like one of the taglist posts!

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[wordsaremyenemy]

Hubcaps & Ashtrays [Loki X Reader] Part 1

Pairing: Loki x Reader Prompt: “The thing is, I wasn’t pretending." Word count: 2,300+ Summary: (Fake Boyfriend AU) You’re a school teacher, eighth grade ELA in fact. School isn’t even in session yet and you already want to rip your hair out. Good news, it’s right before Labor Day and there’s a four day weekend before school starts. Which means plenty of time to finish that pain-in-the-ass lesson plan that’s being avoided. Bad news, your family’s annual reunion is this weekend. Opting out really isn’t an option. Aunt Dot is turning 89 this year and even though it’s not 90 it’s still a big deal.

There’s no time to vet a decent guy before bringing him home, so looks like you’re going stag. Again. Which means Mom and all of your aunts are going to make damn sure that your love life is going to be center stage all weekend. Although, a night with friends might have the answer to all your problems in the form of Hallmark movies. A/N: Okay... so.... this is my entry to @justsomebucky‘s (to whom I apologize for taking so long, please don’t eat me) writing challenge from like months ago. Retail + Holiday season = no free time for little old me. Honestly it still isn’t finished, but I’m trying to get my ass in gear and do shit. I honestly shouldn’t even be doing this. I have laundry. And Christmas presents still to make. I have three done out of like twelve. (I’m crocheting and making dreamcatchers. I’m a mess right now.)

I have to give fair warning. This was the shameless self-insert I've been dreaming of. I still don’t think I’ve done it justice though. And though I kept the descriptions of the main character fairly... vague, or at least tried to. The readers aesthetic is very much what I consider my own to be. Meaning "Basic White Female Hipster" meets "Emo Punk Rock Queen." And honestly there's not enough love for punk. The title comes from Sleeping With Sirens’ “The Strays.”

Big thanks to the most amazing woman in the world, who’s read this more times than I have at this point, and very kindly beta-d this for me. I love you, babygirl. Thanks for calling me out on all my shit always.  Warnings: Mostly swearing

It all started Monday. You were running late, spilled coffee down the front of your brand-new cardigan, and remembered that you forgot to put deodorant on as you ran out of your Brooklyn apartment, nearly running over your neighbor-slash-best-guy-friend, Bucky. You end up fifteen minutes late to the very first staff meeting of the school year because you’d forgotten which way the conference room was. (It’s in a very peculiar place, okay? You would think it’s by the front office. It’s not. For some reason, it’s on the third floor right next to third-floor teachers' lounge.) At least you got to spend the rest of the day prepping your classroom.

Tuesday wasn’t much better. No big staff meeting, but you did have to meet with the two other eighth grade ELA teachers who were the co-chairs of the English department of the entire school. That was a trip and not in a good way. You’ve been teaching for four-going-on-five years. You knew what you were doing. Mostly. You liked to wing it the first week, get a feel for your students before you set down a structured lesson plan. Not that anyone really did anything that first week anyway.

Apparently, that wasn’t going to fly this year because Mrs. High-and-Mighty Jacobson and Miss I’m-so-much-better-than-you Atterbury insisted that everyone turn in their lesson plans for the first week by Monday. Great.

Wednesday started a little bit better. You remembered deodorant (you did on Tuesday, too; it’s the little victories). You didn’t spill coffee or run down Bucky. You actually had enough time to exchange pleasantries and be reminded to go over for your weekly movie night. There wasn’t a meeting, so it was pure setting up your classroom for the four classes you were teaching this semester. Of course, you agonized over that lesson plan but it was for the first week and you did just find out yesterday and surely it could wait until tomorrow, right?

Around lunch it gets hazy. Your mom texts you and reminds you of the upcoming plans you couldn’t escape that weekend.

It could be Aunt Dot’s last reunion, honey. You wouldn’t want to upset her, would you?

I told you last week, Ma, you text. I’m going.

You should bring that boy you’re always talking about. What’s his name?

You roll your eyes. Dirk. And we broke up months ago. I told you.

The next message comes a few minutes later. You pointedly ignore it and get back to your task at hand. Ironically, it’s also ignoring that lesson plan. Hopefully, there was going to be enough sangria at this weekend-long party to blur out the twenty questions that came with being single in your family.

You’re in the middle of packing for the weekend, jamming to whatever playlist you were last listening to on Spotify. It’s more on the punk side of your music taste than the pop side. There’s a knock at the door, causing you to jump.

“Y/N! Y/N, open up!” Bucky shouts from the other side of the door.

You pad barefoot to the door, clad in blue, fuzzy, penguin pajama pants and an old NYU tee that you definitely did not steal from Bucky a few heartbreaks ago.

“What?” you snap, opening the door in the middle of Buck’s persistent knocking. You’re surprised to find not only Bucky standing in the hall but Steve and Wanda too. Across the hall, Sam and Nat are standing in the doorway to Bucky’s apartment with their arms crossed. “Wait, shit. Is it that time already?”

Wanda grabs you by the arm with a playful smile and roll of the eyes, pulling you across the hall.

“No Vis tonight?” you ask, collapsing face first on the couch. Nat follows and flops down sideways in the armchair. You turn your head to watch Wanda as she answers.

“Vis is still away on business,” she explains with wistful eyes and a shake of her head. She was always like that when Vis was off somewhere that wasn’t wrapped around her.

“At least you have an excuse. I’m walking into this stupid reunion completely single. Again. And my mother is already on my case.”

Sam snorts, perched on the back of the couch by your feet. “Somebody needs a beer.”

“More like an entire bottle of wine,” Nat teases.

Bucky sighs from the kitchen, where he’s the sole person making pizza. “None of you are in here helping me make this pizza so I don’t want to hear anything from any of you if you don’t get something you like.”

That gets everyone up and around the island.

An hour later, everyone’s content and full of pizza. Even Steve, who always seems to be eating, has pushed his paper plate to the other side of the coffee table. Everyone’s gotten into their prime movie watching positions.

Nat is sitting sideways in the reclined armchair, bowl of popcorn sitting where her feet should go. Wanda’s on her stomach on the floor in front of her. Sam’s sitting on the end of the couch closest to them. Bucky’s on the chaise side of the couch; a picturesque view of relaxation. You’re in-between them, your head on Bucky’s lap, feet under Sam’s leg. Steve’s on the floor, between the couch and coffee table, leaning into the junction where your seat met Bucky’s.

They’re thirty minutes into the sixth episode of the Mystery Science Theater 3000 reboot, adding their own commentary to that of Jonah and his robot friends.

“So, whatever happened to that guy you went out with? The one that took you on a date to the opera?” Sam asks. "Why don't you just ask him to be your date? People do it all the time for weddings."

You make a face that doesn’t last long because Bucky’s doing that thing where he plays with your hair and make you fell all warm and cozy inside.

“Wasn’t her type,” he replies for you. He’d heard all about the disaster that was that date. Just like he’d heard all about the ones before it, too. From the day you moved in across the hall, you and Bucky had been inseparable. He was your best friend. Hardly a day went by that two of you didn't share your daily torments with each other.

It was actually Natasha you’ve known the longest. She’d been your roommate when you first started at NYU. It was rough at first. You were the furthest from a city girl, having grown up in farming community, but it was under Nat’s wing that you grew to love the city.

You’d met Steve shortly after, literally running into him one day as he was on his way to class. Turned out he was in one of your Education classes. You’d just never paid attention.

Funnily enough, Steve really made your connection to everyone else in the room. It was Steve who found you the job at the school he was teaching at. He’d graduated the year before, miraculously found a job, and was already the students’ favorite art teacher.

It was through Steve that you met everyone else, but it was fate that you met Bucky. You'd been looking for a place of your own and he'd happened to know one with affordable rent that wasn't far from work at all. The rest was history.

So, Bucky had heard all about the failed blind date with Loki Laufeyson.

You'd been set up by Nat. After getting tired of hearing about your lack of love life after you'd ended the only serious relationship you'd had since moving to New York, she'd taken it upon herself to set you up with the occasional guy to get you to stop bellyaching. There'd been decent guys. Each one was better that the last, like Natasha was getting better about picking out these guys.

Loki had seemed like exactly your type. Tall, dark-haired, and handsome. Proclivity for the color black.

And, okay, to say it failed...is a little harsh.

It was actually a little bit cool. You dressed up in your best date dress and did your hair nice. Went above and beyond on your makeup. He was actually early picking you up at the agreed upon place. (There was no way you were giving him your address.) He was a gentleman and opened doors, pulled out your seat at dinner.

There was just something about him. The first thing you noticed was his accent. (He was British, which gave you shivers.)

The second was that he was more slick-looking than the guys you usually fall for. More eloquent, too.

Honestly, it wasn't his fault that your heart refused to fully give up your teenage crushes on the likes of Andy Biersack (Mostly now -- Juliet Simms was a lucky woman) or Ronnie Radke (more circa "Situations" from his Escape the Fate days, or maybe even early Falling in Reverse -- though you had to admit, Coming Home was a bomb ass album.)

You just liked musicians. It's a thing. Everyone you've ever seriously dated was in some kind of band.

Loki was hot and he had the looks...but the aesthetic just wasn't there.

Back to the really cool part. The opera.

You legitimately had never been to an opera before. So, you hadn't known what to expect. What you got, however, was a heart wrenching tale in sung Italian. You didn't have to understand what they were saying to understand what was going on. But the story had been amazing. So much better than anything you could've read out of a book.

But there was just no chemistry between the two of you.

Which you'd told Bucky.

What you hadn't told him was there was a second date too.

That one was a little bit better. Loki seemed more relaxed than the time before. Just a button down and slacks compared to the full-on suit and tie this time. You'd gone with a skater dress and Vans instead of the heels from the last time too.

It was just a dinner this time. Not as fancy as the last place, but still expensive. You actually struck up a decent conversation. It was mostly about how you'd both been forced to go on awful date after awful date by friends (or family, in his case). He didn't like disappointing his mother.

By the end of the date, you were sure there wasn't going to be a third. It seemed as though you were wrong originally. Loki looked the part, but in reality, he seemed to be like everyone else before him. There was just something missing.

You're brought out of your head by Nat's annoyed voice.

"I really thought he'd work out too. Have to admit, even I didn't see the opera thing."

"What about Bucky?" Wanda asks. There's a knowing grin on her face like she knows something you don't.

You look up at your best friend to find him smiling like he's holding back laughter.

"Yeah, what about Buck, Y/N? You guys have always been really close," Steve adds.

This time, you do laugh with Bucky joining in. "Do you want to tell them or should I?"

"You can," he says sobering up.

"We've tried that," you explain. "Very early on. Before I even met Dirk. It was actually really fun. We went to a Panic! concert. It was great. We even kissed. But guys, we're just friends."

"What do you mean you kissed?" Natasha hisses.

And that's when everyone's attention turns from the movie to you and every minute detail about your date with Bucky.

It's only a couple hours later that you're standing in the kitchen washing dishes as Bucky picks up the living room. Everyone's gone home for the night.

"You could always hire someone," Buck suggests, as he sets a couple of glasses beside you to be washed.

"Do I look like Deborah Messing? This isn't one of your rom-coms, Buck. Stuff like that doesn't really happen in real life."

He laughs. "Come on, Y/N. You know I'm only joking."

"Face it. There's no way for me to find a date for the weekend. Not this late anyway. Besides, I'd rather not be that person that brings a different date to every family function."

"Why is this such a huge deal anyway?" Bucky wonders.

You stay quiet for a second, wondering that yourself. It wasn't that you weren't happy with your life. Honestly, you didn't think you cared that much about your relationship status. But then again...

"I'm almost thirty," you point out as you rinse the pizza pan in your hands. You can feel his eyes on you, like he's about to ask you how your age has any relevance to the conversation at hand. "I know, I know. But it's different for guys. Women have a prime window for creating a family. And I know I don't have to, that women shouldn't be expected to have children -- yada yada. I'm about all that. But I want to. I had a plan. And it sort of fell apart, I guess. And my mom is on me all the time now. And maybe I'm not really all that happy with where I'm at anyway."

You wash and rinse the two cups and you're done, draining the water and drying your hands off on a dish towel draped over the oven handle.

Bucky gives you a gentle smile and pulls you into a warm hug and kisses your temple. "Hey. It's no time to give up. You might not find a date for this weekend, but that doesn't mean you won't find a date for the rest of your life, Doll."

You lean into him and breathe deep. Sometimes it sucked that you and Bucky weren't meant to be.

[who-the-hell-is-seb-stan]

In The Heat Of The Moment

Summary: Bucky confesses his feelings for you when he's sure he'll never get another chance to.

Word count: 2144

Warnings: swearing, almost dying?

A/N: this is for @just-some-drabbles 4k rom-com challenge, my prompt was ‘well… this is awkward’. Hope you like it! ☺️

‘It's a simple mission if we do it properly’ Steve's authoritative voice pulls you from your sleepy stupor and you turn to face him. ‘(Y/N) tell me again what you have to do?’ he asks and you sigh as all talk of the coming mission slips out of your mind.

‘I don't know Steve’ you mumble sleepily, rubbing your eyes as your mouth stretches wide in an exhausted yawn. He tuts in disappointment and your eyes drift to Bucky sat opposite you, his head in his hand, elbow on the table and his eyelids about to fall closed. You know how much trouble he'll be in if Steve catches him sleeping in a conference so you nudge his shin with the tip of your toes, his eyes fly open and he looks up and you, grinning from ear to ear. You smile sleepily in return and look to Steve who's eyes are flitting from you to Bucky as if waiting for an explanation. You had stayed up all the previous night talking Bucky through a nightmare and whilst he's used to the little sleep you are most definitely not. You're not about to tell the team this though, they already suspect you and Bucky are secretly dating and this would just fuel their teasing. You're not of course, Bucky is your closest friend and nothing more and, no matter how much you want there to be something more, you knew he just didn't feel the way you did.

‘(Y/N) you have one of the most important roles in this mission, if you mess up all of our lives could be at risk’ he scolds and you look down.

‘No pressure then’ you grumble sarcastically, glancing up into Bucky's amused eyes. You frown and try to claw at the thoughts swimming aimlessly around your mind until you think you come up with something that Steve might have said about the mission. ‘I have to go in?’ is all you manage to come up with causing Bucky to snort with laughter and you kick him under the table. ‘Can you tell me again?’ you whine and Steve rolls his eyes.

‘You'll go in after we've taken out the guards. You'll detain the targets and seize the stolen weaponry, Bucky don't look at me like that you know she can do it’ Steve's sudden change in direction mid sentence draws your attention to Bucky who's looking at Steve like he's lost his mind. This look soon turns to one of anger and then one of pleading within seconds.

‘Let me come with you, I'll go in with her’ he begs and you blush as Nat raises an eyebrow at you. She was the one who started the rumours that you were dating when she walked in on Bucky straddling your naked back as his hands dug into your tense muscle, giving you an incredible massage after a particularly strenuous mission.

‘Buck you're not coming on this mission, you've barely recovered from the last’ he states, nodding at the healing wound on Bucky's cheek.

‘Then don't make her go in’ he says, his voice getting louder with frustration and the room falling silent as they waited with bated breath for a fight to break out. ‘Steve please’ he shouts and Steve bites his lip, considering Bucky's ultimatum.

‘I don't know’ he says and Bucky starts talking again when he sees he might have a chance of winning.

‘What if she gets hurt? I can go in with her and protect her’ he says, getting to his feet now to get his point across.

‘What if you get hurt?’ Steve counters and Bucky scoffs.

‘That doesn't matter Steve. You know I'd give my life for hers’ when he says this in a low voice your face heats up even more as you stare, wide eyed, at the man in front of you, the man willing to die for you and are overcome with such a strong, burning love that you're convinced if you stay there for much longer you might just tell him how you feel. So you don't. You get up and walk out, heading straight to the roof to get some much needed fresh air.

When you get there you throw yourself down onto one of the couches and bury your head in your hands. You only look up when you hear the door in the centre of the roof open and you groan internally when you see Bucky jogging towards you, a look of concern swimming in his crystal blue eyes. You shift so you're laying on your side to avoid looking at him but he sits down on the floor next to your head and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, sending your heart into overdrive. He's so close you can see every detail of his irises and feel his warm breath fan over your face. ‘What's wrong, doll?’ he whispers. ‘Are you ok?’ He looks imploringly into your eyes and you breath in slowly.

‘I just’ you pause and fumble around for an excuse. ‘I don't like you guys talking about me like I'm not sat right there, two feet away from you’. This seems good enough as Bucky frowns apologetically. ‘I like to be included in the decision making when I'm involved in the thing that's being discussed’.

‘Baby’ you wince internally at the effect the nickname has on you. ‘I'm so sorry’ he looks into your eyes, asking for forgiveness and you nod slightly. It's not like you can stay mad when he's the literal human embodiment of a puppy. ‘I won't do it again and I'll make sure no one else does, is that ok?’ he asks and when you nod more firmly, he sighs in relief. You swing your legs down, off the couch so you're sat upright and motion for Bucky to sit next to you. When he does he wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his body, making your breathing hitch and your face flush crimson, again. ‘Steve said I can come in with you tonight’ he says and you shudder when you feel the vibrations of his deep voice in his chest. ‘So no one will harm a hair on your beautiful head’ he whispers, kissing the top of your head. You're sure you're about to pass out or have a heart attack when Nat's voice saves you from more of Bucky's.

‘See I told you they're dating’ she announces proudly from the door and you groan when you see Steve and Sam by her side. Bucky just chuckles, a gorgeous sound that echoes in your ears and warms your heart, squeezing the top of your arm and telling the three at the door to get lost.

‘Ground floor is secure, (Y/N) and Bucky I hate to interrupt your gazing into each other's eyes but advance immediately’ Nat's voice comes through the comm and you roll your eyes, grabbing Bucky's hand without thinking and heading down into the basement. You walk on the balls of your feet so no sound comes from your steps and Bucky follows in the same manner until you get to the bottom of the flight of stairs and into the dingy basement. The sound of men talking in hushed voices reverberates around the vast room and you press your backs against a crate not far from the entrance to get a safe view. Bucky makes a move to make himself seen but you hold a hand out to stop him.

‘The guys are right there, let's just get them and go’ he whispers and you squint at the five men. These are not the men you'd been sent to collect. And the weaponry you had to retrieve was nowhere to be seen either.

‘Something's wrong’ you reply in the same hushed tone. Your thought process is interrupted by Steve's voice shouting in your ear.

‘They knew we were coming’ he yells. ‘They've planted self detonating bombs around the basement but I can't see where. You've got to get out now’ just as he finishes an earsplitting explosion sounds out from behind you and the entrance caves in.

‘That's not going to be possible’ you yell back, trying to stay calm as Bucky's breathing picks up and he starts to panic. ‘Either you get someone down here to get us or we die in an abandoned warehouse’ you scream and Steve reply is drowned out by another explosion. ‘Bucky look at me’ you command and when he does you place both your hands on either side of his face. ‘They're sending someone down to get us. You'll be ok, you'll get out of this’ you try to keep your voice even as you attempt to reassure him.

‘I don't give a shit what happens to me’ he yells back and you frown up at him. ‘For god's sake (Y/N), don't you see?’ He's cut of by another explosion that you can't see for all of the collapsed building surrounding you.

‘See what? Bucky what are you talking about?!’ you reply and he squeezes his eyes shut. They fly open again and he grips the sides of your face with both hands, his eyes wild with fear.

‘Why can't you see how much you mean to me? Why can't you see how god damn in love with you I am?’ he yells and you feel like your heart has come to an abrupt stop. Before you have time to process what he said, even question if you'd heard him right he pins you up against the side of a crate and presses his lips desperately to yours. His hands grip your waist and brings you up against his body as he kisses you with a warm urgency that almost makes you smile. Your hands intertwine in his hair to hold him against you and you kiss back with raw passion and an almost starving need as though this would be last time you'd see him. You only break away when someone clears their throat. Your heads snap up at the sound to be met by Tony in his suit, holding a large piece of debris up and Natasha who's grinning menacingly at the two of you.

‘Well… this is awkward’ she says smugly but neither you nor Bucky make any effort to move, still pressed flush against his body you take his hands in your and press them into your cheeks, smiling softly up at him. Saying nothing you keep one of his hands in yours and lead him past Tony and Nat.

‘Thanks Tony’ you mumble as you pass him, shooting glares at Nat as she wiggles her eyebrows at Bucky. Bucky seems uncaring, his eyes fixed on you as you lead him to safety at the jet.

As the jet picks up height to take off you sit down next to Bucky and curl up into his side. Steve starts to talk to the whole team but you don't listen, tilting your head to look at Bucky who is still staring intensely at you. ‘Bucky’ you whisper and he smiles softly down at you. ‘I love you too’. At this his eyes widen, a breathy laugh escaping his lips. You sit up properly and he kisses you again, this time softer and more gentle, you lips moving in perfect synchronisation, his hands either side of your face, yours resting on his broad chest. No one even looks your way while you're lip locked, their eyes on Steve until he catches sight of you and looks at the floor.

‘Oh for god's sake’ he grumbles and when the others ask him what he nods at the two of you, the kissing becoming heated as you move to straddle his lap. ‘Those two necking each other like horny teenagers’ he explains and the eruption of laughter around the jet is what finally makes you break away. ‘Oh you're done good, we can get on with actual work’ Steve comments as you slide of Bucky's lap and back next to him, your face flushing in embarrassment. He's about to start talking again when Nat interrupts, gazing into the distance thoughtfully.

‘That was probably one of the most intense confessions of love in the history of the world’ she speculates and once again everyone laughs as you snuggle up next to Bucky, his metal arm firmly around your shoulders and his flesh one gripping one of yours as though he's not going to let you go for as long as he lives. You sigh contentedly and a blissful smile spreads across your face for the reason your heart won't stop racing isn't because of your near death experience but the feeling of Bucky's muscled arm slung over your shoulders, keeping you close to his body.

Tagging:

@buckyappreciationsociety @walkingtravesty97 @signethatsmelol @captain-amelia-bradley

[chocolatecoveredstrawberrry]

Forever

Danny Rand (Iron Fist) x Reader one-shot

A.N: This is my submission for @just-some-drabbles Rom-Com challenge. I am so excited to be able to participate and I hope you all enjoy my fluffy one-shot with the adorable Danny Rand!

You were roused from your sleep by your phone beeping. It was 7:30 in the morning and time to wake up and go to work. You reached to turn off the alarm and sighed as the room went silent. You started to sit up, but a strong arm around your waist restricted your movements. You laid back down on the bed and looked over your shoulder to see Danny holding onto you tightly. You wiggled in his arms to turn and face him.

“Babe, I need to get ready for work.” He tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you closer into his body. “Babe-” he hummed and pulled you into his body, wrapping his legs around yours. You couldn’t help but giggle as a smile stretched across his face. “Dannyyyy.” You whined.

“No.” He mumbled as he nuzzled his face into your (H/C) hair. “You’re not leaving this bed. Not today.”

“Well at least let me call in if you’re gonna restrain me here.” You said with a chuckle.

He looked at you with his bright blue eyes. “Fine.” He loosened his grip enough for you to reach over and grab your phone. You called your boss and lied about being sick and to blame your boyfriend for making you stay home, which wasn’t a complete lie. After you hung up, you set your phone face-down on the bedside table.

“Happy?” You asked and Danny smiled and gazed down at you. He laid a kiss on your nose and nodded.

“Very.” He sighed happily.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” You said with a chuckle as you tousled his curly hair that you adored.

“I’m your pain in the ass.” He replied as you touched noses. You giggled at his romantic response and sighed.

“So, how long are you planning on holding me hostage?”

“Forever.” He replied before meeting your lips with his in a gentle, sleepy kiss.

“You know that’s an irrational amount of time to be laying in bed?” He raised his eyebrow and laughed.

“Always the serious one.”

“What!? Someone’s got to be the serious one around here!” He continued to laugh, which made you laugh. His smile could lighten up the darkest cave, and his eyes sparkled like the night sky. You ran your fingers through his curly blond hair as your laughter slowed.

“I guess forever could work.” You continued to make out for a few more minutes of bliss, before you pulled back with a thought. “What about food?” He looked around in thought.

“Ya know, I didn’t think about that. Wanna go to a café or cook in?”

“Ooh I could go for some chicken and waffles at that one little mom-and-pop café down the street.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He released you from his grip and you both crawled out of bed. You got dressed and put on a tad bit of makeup and met Danny at the door. He put his arm around the small of your back and led you out of the apartment.

[rubysworld-world-stuff]

Fairytales Are For Children

Summary: You have had feelings for  Bruce for quite a while now and are convinced that he feels the same way. Nothing has happened between you too, though, until one day you find out the reason. Will you be able to convince him otherwise?

Pairing: Bruce Banner x Reader

Word Count: 2892

A/N: This is my entry for the Rom-Com-Challenge by @just-some-drabbles. I had a blast writing this and hope you like it. Give Bruce some love.

 Your eyes flickered over the bright screen of your tablet, as you tried to take in as much information as possible. You were so distracted by taking in the words, that you didn’t notice where you were going. Someone yelling your name was the last thing you heard before you ran into the wall that had appeared in front of you, seemingly coming out of nowhere.

The impact sent you reeling back, taking you off balance and you landed on your bum with a loud thud. The tablet was catapulted out of your hands as you tried to caught yourself stretching them out behind you.

Your butt hurt and you felt a little dizzy, although you didn’t know whether it was the shock your felt or the actual impact. The same someone who had called out your name scurryed over to where you sat on the ground, kneeling down beside you.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head as an answer, while trying to process what had happened. While taking in your surroundings, your gaze eventually fell on Bruce, the one who had tried to warn you. Unfortunately, it had been to no avail.

He was looking at you with an intense gaze, worry making wrinkles appear in his features while he looked you over, checking for any injuries.

You couldn’t help the smile that made an appearance on your own face upon setting eyes on your favorite scientist. In order to calm him down, you placed one of your hands on his that was floating in the air, not sure if he could touch you or not.

“I’m fine, really,” you reassured him.

However, he didn’t look quite convinced, but as you attempted to get up from the floor to show him you really were alright, he stood up abruptly and helped you stand. As you were moving around, you felt a jolt of pain in your tailbone, shooting through your entire body. The sensation made you cringe, which you tried to hide from Bruce. He had seen it anyway. Just like that he was back in worried-doctor-mode.

“(Y/N), what is it? Where does it hurt?”

You shook your head, signaling him that it was nothing while surpressing the pain. Bruce wouldn’t have any of it. Instead he was looking at you intently so you would tell him what was going on.

You let out a sigh.

“It’s just my tailbone. I must’ve sprained it when I landed on my butt or something.”

For some reason, Bruce’s face heated up and turned red as you mentioned your butt. You were surprised by this reaction, since he was a doctor. It shouldn’t have bothered him.

In an attempt to hide his face, he scrambled to pick up your tablet from across the floor, before handing it to you. He was still not meeting your eyes.

You took the tablet from him and sent him a knowing smile, having a suspicion about what was going on with your friend.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

He mumbled the one word so you could barely hear it. When he still didn’t look at you, you let out a sigh, which caught his attention. By the look on his face he must have misinterpreted it for a sound of discomfort due to the pain.

“Are you sure you are alright?”

You nodded, a reassuring smile dancing on your lips. Bruce moved one hand to your cheek, caressing it softly. The action caught you off guard and your breath hitched making you gasp. You stood still, fully aware of his warm skin against yours. You were too afraid to move. At the same time he had a soft smile on his red lips that matched his expression. You thought you saw something flicker in his eyes, the same emotion you had felt towards him for a long time.

The moment ended abruptly as he pulled away his hand and averted his eyes. It was as if he was pulled out of a trance. He mumbled something before taking off towards the lab, leaving you behind, standing in the middle of the hallway.

***

“Hey, Bruce.”

You walked into the kitchen, feeling cheery and energetic, like nothing could bring you down.

“Hi.”

Bruce send you a warm smile which you returned. You walked over around the kitchen island and went straight for the fridge, taking out all the ingredients you needed for your favortie sandwich.

It took you a little longer since you couldn’t find one of the things you were looking for. You frowned at the contents of the fridge.

“Have you seen-“

“Already took it out. It’s right here on the counter.”

Bruce interrupted your question and you turned around to look at him, to see he was holding it up in his hand. The smile found its way back onto your face. You closed the fridge and moved to the counter, standing next to Bruce.

The two of you made your snacks, enveloped in a comfortable silence. It was one of the many things you cherished about Bruce; you didn’t feel the pressure to talk like you did with other people, instead you could enjoy the silence together.

When you reached over Bruce to steal the last ingredient you needed, your hands brushed. Without you realizing, he had also reached over to hand it to you as he had seen your movement.

Both of you froze at the contact. It was as if a surge of electricity had moved up your arm, reviving the butterflies in your stomach. Excitement made your heart beat much faster than it usually did. To your horror, you could also feel your hands getting sweaty.

After a few seconds you slowly moved your head to look at Bruce, only to find him already staring at you. His eyes were glowing, his mouth slightly agape as if something had surprised him. The look he held in his eyes was mesmerizing and you felt trapped, not able to look away; not that you wanted to anyway.

The flicker of the same emotion in his eyes from when you had run into the wall earlier caught your attention. This time you were almost certain to recognize it.

Just like the last time the moment ended suddenly, when Bruce pulled his hand away, grabbing his plate and hurrying out of the room, not without mumbling an apology.

You were left watching after him dumbfounded. You replayed what had happened in your head, trying to figure out what you did wrong. You came up empty. One second he was gazing into your eyes as if they held the answer to a question he had puzzled over for years, the next he blinked as if waking from a dream rushing to get away from you.

It was getting harder to not feel hurt by his behavior.

***

The sliding doors to the lab opened with a swish sound, making Bruce look up from his work. You walked through them, not noticing there was someone inside. Again, you were looking at your tablet, reading up on some mission Tony was being sent to. You were so caught up in your own thoughts, you didn’t realize you were singing the song of your most recent earworm, slightly bopping your head to the rhythm.

Bruce was watching you the entire time as you walked over to Tony’s working space. He couldn’t help it, he was enthralled by you. Althought you didn’t hit every single note,he still thought you sounded beautiful. A smile sneaked up on his lips, making the corners turn upward. He had no control over his expression, which made him give you a loving look, which would have told you all you needed to know had you been paying attention. Lucky for him, you didn’t.

He enjoyed watching you when you thought you were alone. This way he could observe all the cute quirks you thought were annoying. Like singing your favorite songs, just because you were happy. Or talking to yourself when you needed help concentrating on a task.

There was no way he could focus back on his work, while you were in the room. You were a distraction to him, which had already ended up in a few failed experiments. So instead of trying to go back to work, he was content just watching you.

In the meantime, you had made your way over to Tony’s desk and put down the tablet, checking the list that was opened on it one more time. Then you proceeded to grab the things that you were asked to collect. While doing so, you were still singing, only now, you had started throwing in some dance moves. You just couldn’t keep your feet still.

When you were spinning around at one point, your eyes landed on a smiling Bruce. You were shocked to see him standing there, watching you. You stopped in your tracks.

Your eyes were opened wide, your mouth mirroring their action. You stared at your audience. You felt your cheeks heat up when you heard him let out a low chuckle. All you wanted in that moment was for the ground to open up underneath you and swallow you whole.

After what felt like an eternity while your mind was reeling, your thoughts screaming, you averted your eyes, letting your gaze wander around the room, looking anywhere but the scientist. You didn’t know why you had assumed the lab was empty.

“Since- since when have you been… been standing there?”

You cringed at the sound of your own voice. It was hoarse and you were stuttering. You slipped from one embarassing situation into another.

Bruce let out another chuckle and you pressed your eyes closed, grimacing from embarassment.

“Since you walked in.”

You let out a deep sigh at his answer and opened your eyes to stare at the ceiling.

“Of course,” you mumbled. “Lucky me.”

By now you felt brave enough to let your eyes flicker over to Bruce. The expression he gave you, so loving and soft, made the whole situation more tolereable. You send him a tight smile, before starting to walk over to him. An idea had popped into your head, how you might distract him from the embarassing things you had done.

“So, what are you doing?”

Bruce’s smile brightened, showing you that he had seen through your intentions. Nevertheless, he played along. He turned back to his work as he started explaining to you, the current experiment he was conducting. You were peeking over his shoulder to see what he was talking about.

“…when it works, it would mean that we finally found…”

He trailed off in the middle of a sentence and stayed quiet. You turned your head to see what had made him stop. When your eyes met his, you completely forgot what you intended to do or what he had been talking about. They were shining so bright that it almost blinded you, but you didn’t look away. They were holding a message for you, screaming it, needing you to see. When you caught them flicking down to your lips for only a split second, you took in a sharp breath. You didn’t pull away when he leaned in closer, having dreamt of this moment for so long. His breath caressed your lips as he moved closer and closer. Your heart skipped a beat when you imagined the lightest of brushs. Your eyes flickered closed as you anticipated the touch, the relief of his lips finally being on yours.

That much needed relief never came.

Instead the warmth you had felt only a moment ago was replaced by cold that seemed to surround you, making you shiver. Your eyes snapped open to see what had caused the disturbance.

Disappointment and hurt settled in your chest as you spotted Bruce on the other side of the room, pacing back and forth, one hand clamped over his mouth. You watched him for a moment, still not entirely understanding what had happened.

Then he turned around and started working on something that was on the table in front of him. That was when your whole world turned red. Anger took over and made tears form in your eyes. You were rigid, every muscle in your body tensed.

“What the hell?”

The scream made Bruce flinch and turn around to look at you, wihtout looking at you. You threw him the most menacing look you could conjure up. Although Bruce tried to stay calm and nonchalant, you could see him visibly gulp.

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

That sentence, that probably had been supposed to end the conversation, only kindled your fury.

“The hell you don’t.”

Your voice was loud, your hands were curled up into balls, hanging down on either sidee of your body. Bruce just raised his eyebrows, which made you scoff.

“In case you really forgot, let me remind you. We were standing next to each other, having a nice conversation. Then you leaned in to kiss me but pulled away instead.”

Your voice was low and the words came out between gritted teeth. A sad look had appeared on Bruce’s face in the meantime, but he didn’t speak up. So you continued.

“You always do that. Everytime we have a moment, you just snap out of it and run away, wihtout any explanation. As if nothing ever happened.”

Anger had now turned into despair, the hurt you felt for days now, was close on its heels.

“What am I doing wrong?”

“You are not doing anything wrong.”

Bruce let out a deep sigh, running one hand over his face. He hated seeing you like this. He hated seeing you hurt, especially when he was the one who caused it. You looked at him, desperately waiting for an explantion that would make you feel better.

“Then what is it?”

Your words were only a whisper.

That was when Bruce burst.

“I can’t do this! I can’t be with you. You me, it’s just not going to work.”

The words felt like a punch in your face and you couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over anymore.

“But- I thought- I-“

Your mind was running in overload, trying to understand. Upon seeing the tears running down your cheeks, Bruce felt his heart break. He took a step towards you, reaching out a hand to wipe away your tears, but when he saw you retreating, he stopped. His hand fell back to his side. He looked defeated. Bruce took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he was going to say next.

“(Y/N), I like you. I do. More than I should. And I want to kiss you. God, I want to have you near me more than anything. But I can’t. I’m not the right person for you.”

“Don’t I have a say in this?”

Bruce shook his head, a sad expression tinting his face.

“Not in this case. If it was only me, I would do all the things I want to do. Hold you in my arms, kiss you… But it’s not just me. There’s also the other guy.”

“The other guy?” You frowned at his words.

“The green guy. The Beast. What if we get into a fight and he comes out, or what if I get angry and you are close by? If I hurt you, I-“

He broke off, choking on his words. Understanding had dawned on you and you saw that he was as much hurt as you were.

You tentatively walked over to Bruce, cupping his cheek in your hand. He closed his eyes at the touch, leaning into it.

“You won’t hurt me.”

Your voice was soft as to not scare him. However, he opened his eyes to look at you.

“How do you know?”

“I just know.” You shrugged.

Bruce scoffed at your unhelpful answer. You smiled at him in return, a reassuring smile, the same one you always gave him when he thought you were hurt.

“You know how in Beauty and the Beast, the Beast seems to hurt everyone around him, except the ones he loves. He protects them.”

“Fairytales are for children. They are not real.”

“Then why do I feel like we are living in one?”

Without giving it much more thought, you brought your other hand up to his cheek as well, before pulling him down towards you.

Your lips met in a clash, pressed against each other, before the two of you lost yourself in the moment. Your lips slid across his smoothly until you found your top lip trapped between his. Your tongue flicked out as you ran it across his lips. You could feel a shudder running through him and he grabbed your waist, pulling you tightly against him. As he opened his mouth, letting you in, your tongue flicked against his teasingly, making a moan escape the back of his throat. You could feel your cheeks heating up once more, while the wrinkles on Bruce’s forehead disappeared as he visibly relaxed. Neither of you could supress the smile that formed on your lips, after finally getting what you had been craving for.

You knew that the argument wasn’t over yet, but you had a feeling that you would figure something out. Until then you enjoyed your fairytale.

[masterofmunson]

Be Happy Now

Bucky x Reader

Summary: A series of I just want you to be happy’s until they're both actually happy. My entry for @just-some-drabbles Rom-Com Challenge. “I just want you to be happy,” prompt.

I DIDNT MEAN TO GET CARRIED AWAY BUT I DID SO HERE YOU GO!!

Word Count: 4.1k+ (i'm so sorry)

Warnings: angst, love triangle drama, anti-nat (still love her tho), swearing, violence, fluff, a cute beagle named daisy.

Love. Four letters, one syllable, ten thousand meanings. Love means texting when you arrive home safely to someone that cares. Love means ordering two sets of fries even though your significant other said that they didn't want an order. Love also means that you're willing to put someone else's happiness before your own. It's selfless and you're willing to do anything to keep them happy, or at least I was.

I sacrificed a lot in order for Bucky to be happy. I lost sleep when he'd have his nightmares and I was the only one who could comfort him until he fell back asleep. I lost most of my appetite because he'd steal my food. My whole schedule revolved around Bucky.

At first, I enjoyed it. He gave me attention that I longed for. He made me laugh. His warm and cold fingers would tug securely around my waist when he fell asleep to my soft humming which always caused me to shiver. His charming and flirtatious comments always caused my face to warm. I'd duck my head embarrassingly before biting back a snarky response.

Now, though? I'm drained. I'm tired. I'm exhausted. I'm giving, giving, giving and soon I'll run on empty. I still want him to be happy, but I don't want him to rely on me for it to happen. He needs to find his own happiness, even if his happiness didn't happen to be me.

Like any other pathetic romantic novel storyline, he did, and spoiler alert, it wasn't me. His happiness was in the hourglass figure and fiery red hair that belonged to Natasha Romanoff. I felt stupid enough to even believe for a second that he might reciprocate my feelings and it hurt. It hurt to see that he no longer needed me to calm the storm that was his nightmares. It hurt that he wasn't making me laugh. Instead, he made me frown. He ran me out of gas and abandoned me in a ditch with no way out.

I act like everything's fine, like I'm not tearing myself apart even more. I allowed myself to place my happiness into someone rather than something. He took my heart and threw it away, but it still lingers in his soft smiles and rough hands. I act like seeing him and Natasha together doesn't destroy me because all I've ever wanted was for him to be happy, and he is.

He laughs more. He smiles more. The Bucky from the 40s is slipping through whoever he is now, and it's refreshing. Yeah, he has his off days, but he's safe. He's happy. He's free. There's nothing better than that. Well… maybe there is, my own happiness perhaps, but that seems impossible, so I'm more than willing to settle for goodness. Well… I was.

Today, I was leaving for a quick recon mission with Sam, and yes, Bucky and Natasha in Italy. We had received information regarding a new biological weapon, that when fired or injected, causes the brain chemistry at whoever is being shot at, to turn against their friends and confuse them as the enemy. If the wrong people got their hands on it, the consequences would be devastating.

Before today, I had taken up the hobby of actively avoiding Bucky. Being around him hurt more than I'd like to admit. I haven't seen him in days and I knew he was looking for me, which I hated. I don't  want him thinking of me when he has Natasha.

Walking slowly to the Quinjet Hangar in my stealth suit, I dread the idea of facing him. He's very confrontational and he'll want an answer that I don't want to give. I sighed, running my hands through my hair before sliding my weapon of choice, my beloved assault rifle, over my shoulder.

I hurry into the jet and sit down, plugging my earbuds into my phone and placing them in my ears. My eyes close and I focus on the music, ignoring the world around me.

I know Sam, Natasha, and Bucky are on the jet, but they don't disturb me, which I'm grateful for. The longer I close my eyes pretending that I'm asleep, the less likely Bucky's going to confront me.

That feeling, however, is short lived just after we take off from the Avengers base in France. My earbuds are ripped out of my ears and they clang against the ground of the jet. My eyes fly open and I glare at the culprit.

“What the hell, Bucky?” I hissed. “What was that for?”

“You've been avoiding me, Y/n. How else was I supposed to get your attention?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I don't know, tap me on the shoulder, maybe?” I bite back.

“Why are you avoiding me? What did I do? What happened to my best friend?”

I have half a mind to apologize, but I shake the thought away. I won't let him make me feel guilty about how I feel, not anymore. The Old Y/n would have, but I'm not her anymore.

I'm tired of him not appreciating me for all that I've done for him up until this very moment. I'm tired of being slept on. I'm tired of being thrown to the curb. I'm tired of being the second choice.

I'm ripping it off like a band-aid, fast and nearly painless. I would deal with the consequences later. I was pissed. Nothing could change what I was about to spill.

“I'm not your best friend, Bucky,” I snapped. “Best friends don't treat each other the way you treat me.”

“How do I treat you?” he asked, his face falling.

“You don't appreciate any of the things I've done for you. I bend over backwards in order to see you happy, to make you happy, and not once did I get a thank you. I don't expect to get anything in return when I'm being nice, but a little appreciation wouldn't hurt. My life revolved around you. I lost sleep because you weren't sleeping. I lost my appetite in order to fulfill yours. I'm giving and giving and giving, and now I'm on empty,” I whispered quietly, feeling my tears threatening to fall. I wouldn't let him see me cry.

“I didn't know, I'm sorry,” he croaked, stepping towards me slowly.

“Now you know. Just… just leave me alone, please.”

My eyes glance up at his for a brief moment and I swallow hard. They're red with tears and it makes my chest ache, but it has to be done. I have to protect myself. My heart is fragile and precious. I don't want it to break again.

He backs away slowly as if he's waiting for me to say something else. Like my words mean nothing and I'm just kidding, but I'm not. I'm dead serious. He hurt me. His actions, or lack thereof, bruised me. I remain silent and he sits down wordlessly next to Natasha. She's murmuring things in his ear as his eyes stay trained on mine. I look away and bite my lip hard, fighting off the tears pooling at my eyes.

Time passes slowly after that. I'm busying myself with my thoughts and my music. Regret starts to eat away at me at everything I could've done differently regarding Bucky. I had so many chances and opportunities to tell him how I felt but I didn't. I was too late when I wanted to tell him and he had Nat.

“We’re here,” Sam calls out to us after a few hours. It breaks me out of my daze and I'm in mission mode immediately. I rub my tired eyes and stand up, slipping my comm into my ear. I grab my assault rifle and exhale a heavy breath. I wait at the edge of the jet and play with my fingers.

“Giggles and Smolder, you're together. Extract the biological weapon and any other intel you come across. Widow and I will provide security. Meet at the rendezvous point in two hours,” Sam stated, going over the mission points.

“Sam,” I nearly growled, “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“You both work well together. You're going to be together. End of story.”

I grit my teeth and bite my tongue. I stomp off the jet and Bucky follows closely behind me. I trudge through the entrance of the building, avoiding all security cameras and agents in the area.

“Giggles and Smolder are in the building,” I spoke into the comm, adjusting my rifle on my shoulder.

We move quickly and silently through the building, closer to the lab. We take out the agents efficiently and make it into the lab. We're face to face with the biological weapon soon enough and my hands carefully pull each of the vials out of the containment and into the protective seals on my hip. I exhale a breath and relax my shoulders, but the feeling of short lived when we're overwhelmed by agents.

“I thought you said you were providing security, Falcon!” I hissed into the comm, ducking behind a flipped over table so I could catch my breath.

“They weren't on the security cameras!” Sam shouted.

I grit my teeth and hurry back onto my feet, shooting the two agents in front of me. My eyes scan the room wildly for Bucky and to my own horror, he's out numbered. I quickly take them out from my hiding position and our eyes meet.

“Thanks, Doll,” he breathed, smiling softly at me.

“There we go,” I teased jokingly. “There's some appreciation. That's a good start.”

“I hope you know that my appreciation for you isn't just because you're always savin’ my ass.”

I roll my eyes playfully and glance around for any stray agents, finding none. “Let's get the hell out of here.” He grins in agreement and we hurry out of the lab.

I'm winded and out of breath. Bucky trails behind me and my harsh breaths fill my ears. It's hard to breathe and I don't notice the agent in my blind spot sneaking up on me.

It's too late by the time Bucky screams my name. The gun goes off and the bullet pierces my gut. Another shot rings out and and the agent crumbles to the group, a bullet in his brain. The adrenaline fades almost immediately and I drop to my knees. I close my eyes, waiting for my head to slam against the concrete but instead Bucky's rough hands catch me.

Now I'm breathing hard. My vision is fuzzy, but it doesn't feel like I'm dying.

“Y/n’s hit!” Bucky screams, lifting me up into his arms. He carries me with ease out of the building and runs to the rendezvous point. I hear explosions in the distance. The building’s probably in flames now. “Doll, keep your eyes open for me.”

“Bucky, I'm fine. Just a little woozy,” I sigh, moving my fingers into his soft brown hair. “You're so beautiful. Like uh… you're face is very beautiful. Ocean eyes, strong jaw, kissable lips. Mhmm… your arms feel really nice, just wish it wasn't like this.”

“Uh huh,” he muttered, hurrying towards the jet.

“Don't know if ‘m dyin’ or being delirious.”

“You're not dying,” he snapped, staring down at me. “I'm not losing my best friend. You're gonna be fine.”

“I'm sorry for being so mean before. We are friends and it just hurts because I want to be more because I love you, but you're with Nat, and she's my friend,” I slur, struggling to keep my eyes open.

“You… you love me?”

“Duhhh. You really think I'd lose sleep over anyone? When you love someone you sacrifice your own sleep for there's, at least I think that's how the saying goes. Maybe it's you sacrifice your own happiness for someone else's. I can't remember,” I mumbled deliriously. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Y/n! Stay awake!” he screams, shaking me against the platform of the jet, but he's too late. I slip into darkness.

I wake up to the consistent sound of the heart rate monitor connected to my body somewhere. My head aches and my torso burns. I let out a painful groan and my eyes open slowly. My throat is terribly dry and I let out a dry cough and my eyes scan the medbay room.

“Doll,” Bucky's voice rings through my ears and I turn my head towards the seat he's occupying. He's worse for wear and it breaks my heart. His skin is a ghostly pale and dark circles surround his eyes. It looks like he hasn't slept in days. He's in a loose t-shirt and cotton sweatpants. “You're awake!” he hurries to my side and brings a paper cup up against my lips. I drink it all in one large gulp and gasp in appreciation. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I've been shot,” I rasped with a smirk. His face tenses and falls. I know that look anywhere. It's his ‘this is not a joke’ face that is usually reserved for Sam and I. “What happened? I don't remember anything.”

His face perks up and softens immediately. He coughs awkwardly before giving me another cup filled with water. “We went on a mission to retrieve a biological weapon--it’s safe, don't worry--and you got shot.”

“What?”

“An agent blindsided you. Neither of us saw him,” he breathed, playing with his fingers. I watch him intensely, knowing that there's more. He looks at me with tears in his eyes. “I-I thought I lost you, Y/n. There was so much blood, an-and you went unconscious before the plane took off. The doctors said it was a-a miracle that you made it through the trip. You went under eight hours of intensive surgery and you went into a medically induced coma after that. You've been out for five days.”

“Five days? Bucky, I can't imagine what that must've been like waiting for me to wake up,” I cry, feeling a tear slip down my cheek.

The chair screeched against the tile and he's by my side in a flash. His flesh hand holds my cheek and his metal one holds onto my hand. “Even a minute without you feels like an eternity,” he murmured, brushing away a few stray tears that fell upon my face.

I swallow hard. I don't know what that means. I don't know why that's making my heart hammer against my chest. The beeping of the heart rate monitor roars in my ear. “You should, um, get a doctor… let them know I'm awake or something,” I stutter, pulling away from his gentle grasp.

“Yeah, yeah. You're right, um, I'll go do that,” he nods, standing up, scurrying out of the room.

My eyes follow his broad frame out of my room and I exhale a breath I didn't know I was holding. For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me.

A week after I woke up from my medically induced coma, I was discharged from the hospital bay and left French headquarters. I was happy to be back home in New York and in the comfort of my own bedroom. Physical therapy started and it was a slow process to get back into my routine again.

Bucky was with me through all my therapy sessions and he never left my side. I thought it was strange. We were back to how things were before he started dating Natasha. I made sure to keep a friendly distance between us. I didn't want to cause any rifts between him and Nat. I wasn't going to let my feelings for her boyfriend cloud my judgement. I wasn't going to be like that.

A few weeks after my therapy started, I felt like I was improving. I wanted to start training again. I wouldn't do anything too hard, I was just itching to get back into my routine.

“Natasha,” I called out to her in the gym. She turns away from the spot she was standing in next to Bucky. “Do you wanna spar? Help me get back into the swing of things?”

“Sure,” she said, nearing me so she could tape her hands. I follow suit and stretch briefly.

“Go a little hard on me, would ya?”

She nods with a smirk and we step onto the mat. We circle each other before she makes the first move. I dodge her first and kick her leg out from underneath her. I step back so she can stand up and I take a deep breath. She looks slightly pissed off and she charges at me. We block each other’s hits and kicks before she manages to hit me in the jaw. It knocks me to the ground and my head aches.

Natasha digs her knee into my healing wound. I grit my teeth and try to push her off of me. “Natasha, stop. You're hurting me,” I growl, glaring at her.

“Good,” she hisses, “now you know what it feels like to be me.”

“What're you talking about? Get off of me!”

“You don't think I know how you feel about Bucky? My Bucky? I see the way you look at him.”

“What're you talking about?” I scream, wiggling against her firm grasp. “Get off me Natalia! You're hurting me!”

“I know you love him!”

It feels as if the wind was knocked out of me. I stop wiggling against her iron grip and swallow hard. I don't know what to say. She caught me red handed.

“I see the way you look at him when you think no one’s watching. I know you love him because you told him when you got shot because you thought you were going to die. Everyone on the mission knows how you feel about him.”

“What do you want me to say, Natasha?” I snarl. “That I'm sorry? That I purposefully fell for your boyfriend just to spite you? Why do you think I kept it quiet? I'm friends with you. I'm friends with Bucky. I wasn't going to let my feelings for him get in the way, and they didn't. Not until now. I didn't know that I told him how I felt until now. No one told me! I don't remember the mission. You, along with everyone else could've pretended that it didn't happen, because Bucky sure’s doing a fine job at pretending that I didn't confess my love for him!”

I shove her off me and struggle to my feet, storming out of the gym back into my room.

After the incident with Natasha and Bucky, I made the decision to move out of the Compound. It was incredibly difficult for me to be around them. I avoided them both at all costs. It hurt to be around them. Natasha was my friend and Bucky was my best friend. We were all avoiding each other and whenever I saw them together, she'd flaunt him like one of her new weapons. I had enough of it, so I left.

I got my own place nearby and felt a weight being lifted off my shoulders. I was happier and healthier, a bit lonely, I admit, but I was good.

I'm only at the Compound when I need to be for work, training, and the occasional gala Tony hosts every few months. Other than that, I'm finding new hobbies, and I even adopted an adorable beagle puppy named Daisy.

I'm keeping myself busy and I'm not allowing myself to get sad. I tried hard to keep my relationship with Natasha and Bucky intact, but it wasn't enough. Nothing ever was when it came to them.

One night that Daisy and I decided to stay in, there was a soft knock at my door. Her small barks rang through the apartment and I grabbed my gun, hiding it behind my back. I unlock the door and peek my head out.

“What're you doing here?” I ask, tensing against the door.

“I missed you. I wanted to come and visit,” Bucky mutters, holding out a beautiful bouquet of flowers. “Consider this a late housewarming gift.”

I open the door and set the gun on the table near the door. I take the flowers and hold them against me. “Would you like to come in?”

“May I?” he asks. I nod and he steps inside. I shut and lock the door behind me. I hurry into the kitchen and place the flowers into a vase.

Daisy barks at his feet. “Daisy, no barking. He's a guest. Be nice. Would you like some water, Bucky?”

“Yeah, sure. Thank you.”

I grab him a glass and fill it with water. I place it on the counter and watch him interact with my dog. “She's cute. When'd you get her?”

Daisy rolls onto her back and her tail hits the floor. “A few weeks after I moved in. I felt lonely and I thought that getting a puppy would cure my loneliness. She did, thank goodness. Daisy's my little princess,” I laugh, sitting on the floor across from him. Daisy rolls back onto her legs and climbs into my lap. I pet her behind the ear and she presses her snout into my hand. “How's Natasha?”

“Good… I think. We broke up a few months ago. We weren't very happy,” he answers quietly.

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.”

We fall into an uncomfortable silence and I busy myself with Daisy. She climbs into my lap and licks my arm. I kiss the top of her head and rub her belly.

“Did you really leave the Compound because of Natasha and I?” he asks softly, his eyes staring into mine.

I swallow hard and take a deep breath. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Do you really think I wanted to stay on the same floor as my best friend and my best friend’s boyfriend who I was in love with? I lost you both. I was all alone. You didn't tell me that I told you how I felt and you used my amnesia to your advantage. Why didn't you tell me?”

“How could I have? You would've been absolutely mortified. I had a girlfriend. You knew that and you only told me because you were delirious and you thought you were dying. It would've ruined our friendship,” he retorted.

“It already did,” I snapped. “Why are you here anyway?”

“I missed you. I missed my best friend. Ever since you left, I've missed you. When you left, you took a piece of my heart with you.”

I swallow hard. It feels like the wounds that I thought healed were being reopened. “Bucky, stop,” I whispered, playing with my fingers.

“Y/n, I-I love you. I think I always have,” he confesses, moving closer to me.

“Bucky, stop! I'm not going to just be with you just because you suddenly reciprocate my feelings. You hurt me,” I snap, brushing a tear off my cheek.

“You don't think I know that? Why do you think I'm here? I'm trying to fix my wrongs. I don't want to lose you again,” he stated softly, moving closer to me.

“James, I don't know. If our friendship didn't work out, what makes you think this relationship will?”

“I'm fighting for you. I'm willing to earn you back. It won't happen again. I need to gain your trust back. I love you, Y/n. I just want you to be happy and I want you to be happy with me.”

My eyes stare into his as I weigh the pros and possible, admittedly small amount, of cons about a possible relationship with him. His eyes are full of hope and it makes my heart flutter hard against my chest. I swallow hard and nod slowly.

“Okay,” I breathed. “I'll give us a shot. We’re going slow though, okay?”

He grins and I can't help but smile too. He nods eagerly and stands on his feet. He grabs my hand and I look at him strangely. He hurries to my front door and nearly pulls it off its hinges.

“Where are you going? What're you doing?”

He turns towards me and leans forward, placing a soft kiss onto my cheek. “Takin’ things slowly, darlin’. I don't kiss until the end of the first date, or maybe it's the second. I can't remember. You'll find out soon enough,” he teases with a smirk. “Be ready by six tomorrow. I'm takin’ you out. See you tomorrow, beautiful.”

I grin, biting my lip. “See you tomorrow, Bucky.” He kisses my cheek again before closing the door. I lock it behind me and slide my back against the door until I'm on the ground. Daisy trots into my lap and licks my cheek. “I guess you want me to see Bucky too, then?”

Daisy barks, wagging her tail.

I totally was not planning this fic to be 4k+ words but it was I'm so sorry I have zero structure when I write. I should probably fix that. Anyway, this was my entry for @just-some-drabbles Rom-Com Challenge! I hope you guys liked it!

PERMANENT TAGS: @jessevans @fuckmewintertucker @ria132love @anastasiaannaa @bubblyaschampagne @kindnesswins @queen-valeskaxx @lilasiannerd @sammnipple @blueeyedboobear @mcuimxgine @marvel-fanfiction @blueskies-love @super-soldier-wifey @broken-pieces @xxchexchickxx @castawayreject @iamwarrenspeace @melconnor2007 @nerdyandproud9 @frostbyte-horan

[justsomebucky]

JSD Rom-Com Challenge Masterlist

I will be adding the story links (in bold) to this list as they are completed so that everybody can enjoy them!

33 of 51 are now completed!

3 are listed as WIP and italicized means either I missed it or no story has been submitted. If you asked for a deadline that’s cool.

1) “I need some time to think.” @minervaem (Bucky x reader)

2) "In the Heat of the Moment” by @who-the-hell-is-seb-stan (Bucky x reader)

3) “Fairytales Are For Children” by @rubysworld-world-stuff (Bruce Banner x reader)

4) “Were you spying on me?” @storiesbyvmkessel (Tony Stark x reader)

5) “Cracker Jacks and Kiss Cams” by @bitsandbobsandstuff  (Bucky x reader) 

6) “Pain Covered With Skin” by @redgillan (Bucky x reader)

7) “Are you in love with (her/him)?” @sgtbxckybxrnes (TBD x reader)

8) “You make me feel like anything is possible.” @v271828 (Bucky x reader)

9) “Second Chances” by @soldatbarnes (Lance Tucker x reader)

10) “Trust Breaking Loser” by @sebass-stanfan (Peter Parker x reader)

11) “What Are You Waiting For?” by @buckthegump (Bucky x reader)

12) “A Bump in the Road” (1 2 3 4 5) by @green-eyeddragonfanfiction (Bucky x reader) 

13) “You’re weird, but you’re my kind of weird.” @lifeofmarvvel (Peter Parker x reader)

14) “All of this was worth it because you’re still here.” @marvelfanuniverse (Pietro x reader)

15) “You know what? You’re crazy.” @denialanderror (Bucky x reader)

16) “For the Love of Dogs” by  @sprinkleofhappinessuniverse (Bucky x reader)

17) “The thing is, I wasn’t pretending.” @wordsaremyenemy  (Loki x reader)

18) “Crazy in Love” by @moonbeambucky (Bucky x reader)

19) “Pick Her Poison” by @imhereforbvcky  (Bucky x reader)

20) “Library Blues” by @planet-holland-writing (Steve Rogers x reader)

21) “In Cahoots” by @thewinterswimmer (Bucky x reader)

22) “Maybe we can be alone, together?” @kellieabro (Steve Rogers x reader)

23) “Be Happy Now” by @lomlbarnes (Bucky x reader)

24) "(Un)Successful Mission“ by @buckys-fossil (Bucky x reader)

25) “Disney Dreaming” by @asirenscalling (Bucky x reader)

26) “You have something…on your nose.” @nataliarxmanxva (Bucky x reader) 

27) "Loner” by @promarvelfangirl (Bucky x reader)

28) "Forever” by @youdonebeengarthed (Danny Rand x reader)

29) "Unlikely Places” by @whatisaheroanyway (Bucky x reader)

30) “Corner of the Coffee Shop” by @theassetseyeliner (Bucky x reader)

31) “Before the End of Halloween” by @storytelling-reader (Steve Rogers x reader)

32) “Incomplete” by @pinkleopardss (Steve Rogers x reader)

33) magical @wanderingkat77 (Bucky x reader)

34) paradise @paradisecityplease (Bucky x reader)

35) "Marriage Type Love” (1 2) by @kjs-s (Steve Rogers x reader)

36) "The Bet: Terms and Conditions” (1 2) by @indominusregina (Bucky x reader) - WIP

37) “Not the Jealous Type” by @alexafromthefandom (Tony Stark x reader)

38) “I think this belongs to you.” - @addictionmarvel (Bucky x reader)

39) "Mishaps” by @rotisserierogers  (Bucky x reader)

40) “Feelings” by @bhuckys (Bucky x reader)

41) "Love Me Right” ( P 1 2 3 4) by @emscairstairs (Bucky x reader) - WIP

42) “Be My Muse” (P 1 2) by @a-splash-of-stucky (Bucky x reader)

43) “What do you mean, no? You can’t say no now!” @annes-a-pan  (Bucky x reader)

44) "New Rules” by @sanjariti (Wanda x reader)

45) “You did all this for me?” @bucks-metal-fate (Bucky x reader)

46) "Friday, I’m in Love” by @avengerofyourheart (Tony Stark x reader)

47) “Cover” by @lotsofimagines (Steve Rogers x reader)

48) “And on the Fifth Day...” by @untimelyideasforstories (Bucky x reader)

49) “A Perfect Encounter” (Parts 1 2 3 4 5) by @buckyswinterchildren (Bucky x reader) - WIP

50) “You’re the most frustrating person on the planet, but I can’t imagine life without you.” @baileywritesthethings (Pietro x reader)

51) “Little Traitor” by @kaunis-sielu (Bucky x reader)

[kjs-s]

Marriage Type Love

Pairing Steve Rogers x reader

Summary:  The overworked maid of honor spends the weekend thinking the wedding planner is gay. But he has something to ask her while they dance at the wedding party.

Word Count: 1246

Warnings: None.

Part 2 

Prompt: Wedding

A/N: This is my entry for @just-some-drabbles‘s  rom com challenge. Because she mentioned that there are not a lot fics not the netflix characters i included some of them here. 

Also thank you very much @agentpeggicarter for reading it over, you are amazing.

@writing-journeyx   @sprinkleofhappinessuniverse  @ohyesmarvel  @agentpeggicarter 

You almost yelled at your phone when you read your friend’s text message.  All she asked was if you would be arriving alone the next day but the tone you read it in suggested otherwise. You knew about Trish’s wedding for two months and bringing someone with you had completely slipped your mind.

As one of her best friends, you were excited to become the maid of honor. The task was given to you only because the third one of your group, Jessica wouldn’t even want to hear about it. Despite having a wedding planner, two of them in fact who worked as a team, your duties were a lot. Not only you were in charge of the bridesmaids’ dresses but you hosted a bridal shower, and the bachelorette party a week before the wedding. On top of all of these, you were the person that assisted Trish when she arranged where everyone would spend the night. Trish’s fiancé Andy had a beach house in Southampton so they decided to have the wedding there.

Realizing you had forgotten to ask someone to accompany, you decided to at least have someone to spend the car ride with.  So you knocked at your neighbor’s, Matt Murdock’s door.

‘’Hi Matt are you busy?’’ You waited in the hallway for him to tell you to enter.

‘’I have to leave to go to the courthouse in an hour. Do you need something that can take more time?’’ He stepped back to allow you in.

‘’No I just wanted you to ask if you would go to Trish’ wedding. I have to be there on Friday to help her and I didn’t want to go alone.’’

‘’I was wondering about how to go there just now. Actually, I was thinking about asking you to drive me there.’’

‘’That’s settled then. Be ready on Friday at around 11 in the morning. This will be a fun two-hour trip.’’ You thanked him and left to go to work.

 When you reached the house you immediately found Trish. She informed you that she had made some changes and that both you and Matt were to sleep at her house.  She provided you with the master bedroom that had two beds and you got yourselves settled in.

After a shower, while Matt fell asleep, you looked for the bride to ask her about the plans for the next days. She had only arranged for her friends to get together in order to decorate the house at around four in the afternoon. Apart from them, she was expecting the wedding planners who would be in charge of the ceremony to drop by and discuss with everyone about their duties.

It took you, Trish, Jessica, Natasha, and Wanda almost five hours to finish. Decorating the house with heart ornaments, balloons, ribbons, sweets and a centerpiece bouquet of paper roses with the couples’ initials.

At nine o’clock the doorbell rang and you answered the door only to come across the most handsome man you have ever met in your life.  He had a face that could stop anyone in their track just to admire him. His stunning blue eyes were the first thing you noticed about him. All you were able to do was staring at them and hope you would have the opportunity to see them up close again. After a moment of admiring his eyes, you took in all his facial features that were equally attractive.

What snapped you out of your daze was another young man who ran up to the both of you. ‘’Sorry I’m a little late Steve. Are we ready for the meeting?’’ He addressed the one you were gawking at startling him a little. Unbeknownst to you the man, you apparently was called Steve, was admiring you as well.

‘’Hello I’m Sam Wilson and this is my partner Steve Rogers the wedding planners. Is Trish ready? You are you one of the bridesmaids right?’’ Sam greeted you and started making his way inside.

‘’Yes and no. Trish is ready and I am actually the maid of honor, my name is (Y/N). Come inside. I am so sorry I didn’t speak earlier, I am a little tired from decorating the house so I kind of dozed off.’’ You smiled shyly at him not having the courage to look up at his eyes.

‘’No worries, I was thinking about some details too. So I only muttered a hello to you.’’ He got flustered trying to hide how awkward he was feeling about the situation at the front door.

The meeting went smoothly while Steve and Sam explained everyone their duties. The two of them had taken upon themselves the majority of the tasks that needed to be performed so the rest of you had little to do. Throughout the meeting you kept looking over at Steve who was almost always looking at Sam. You believed that they were a cute and happy couple despite the fact that your infatuation had apparently met a dead end.

However, the reason that Steve was looking at his business partner was that he didn’t want you to know he was staring at you.  His heart was bursting with joy every time you laughed with Wanda’s jokes or helped Trish with something. He found it perfect when you obviously cared about Jessica to scold her about drinking or talked to Natasha to include her in the decision-making process.

‘’Wait a second, why is Matt over at that table without us? I prefer for him to be at our table next to me, besides we did get here together. Also, we hardly know anyone here other than the people in this house.’’ You protested when you saw that Matt was with some people he didn’t know instead of the bridesmaids who were his friends.

‘’And who do you think we should move from your table?’’ Steve asked being a little annoyed and disappointed. The reason was your relationship with Matt but you thought it was because you were undermining his hard work.

‘’Nobody, I am suggesting moving Jessica from the one side to another. Don’t you prefer sitting between Matt and Malcolm? You can tolerate both of them, unlike Wanda’s date.’’ You handed the sitting arrangement to her so she will examine it.

‘’You are right, and all we need is another chair at our table. I say to do it this way.���’ Wanda marked the arrangement.

‘’Great, since that is settled we can go through your duties one more time before we leave.’’ Sam reminded you what needed to be done the next day.

‘’ If we ever need assistance, you should know we can consider hiring you (Y/N). You did a good job coming up with suggestions especially for the sitting chart.’’ Sam half-joked when they were leaving.

‘’I can only help when I know the people involved, so only at my friends’ weddings. But don’t worry if I ever need work I will call you.’’

You went to sleep that night and all you could think about was Steve and how unfortunate you were for not being able to make a move. You couldn’t wait to at least see him at the wedding and the party. You even dreamed of the two of you dancing like the scene from ‘’Beauty and the beast’’.

[a-splash-of-stucky]

Be My Muse [1/2]

Pairings: Bucky x Reader || Steve x Peggy

Summary: Modern AU. This part involves handsome strangers, a bar and friends trying to set each other up on dates.

Warnings: Potentially some language. Besides that, none, unless you need a warning for fluff :)

Notes: For @just-some-drabbles‘ writing challenge. My prompt was #42: “It’s a dare, you have to do it. Those are the rules.” This is in bold somewhere.

Also - I’ve never worked in a cafe/coffee shop, so apologies if things aren’t accurate. Feel free to (constructively) correct me if this is the case!

[Part 2]

My Masterlist || {gif source}

The cafe is always quiet at 4pm on a Thursday.

You’re busying yourself behind the counter, taking advantage of the afternoon lull to get some cleaning and organising done. Thus far, you’ve polished the pastry display case, wiped down the countertop and put away the cleaned mugs and plates from this morning’s customers.

Although the cafe is a lovely place to work in, it’s not exactly where you imagined yourself to be, at this stage of your life.

Oh, sure, you could have landed a far worse job. Though it gets lonely sometimes, having to do the afternoon shift by yourself, at least you have a great friend in Sharon, who comes by to help you with the busier morning shift everyday. Besides, the peace that settles over the cafe once the lunch hour is over is a welcome reprieve from the hustle and bustle of your life. Maria, the owner, is a kind — if, fairly strict — boss, and the pay here is better than anything you could have gotten anywhere else.

There’re several less-than-positive things about this job, like the bathroom that reeks of urine no matter how hard you scrub it, plus the fact that you seem to only get customers that love to loudly complain about the slow service is, but hey; it’s a job that pays and one you’re glad to have. As such, you’re willing to overlook the less savoury aspects of it.

You’re in the middle of arranging glasses on the shelves when the bell over the door dings, and the most stunning man you’ve ever set eyes on walks into the shop.

You try to surreptitiously check him out as he casts his eyes over the menu. He’s well-built, with chestnut brown, slightly wavy hair that is tied back into a little bun. The stranger wears a black leather jacket over a grey t-shirt, both garments hugging his body in a most delectable manner. His dark blue jeans accentuate what has got to be the best looking ass you’ve ever seen and those thighs, my god. You have to physically restrain yourself from thinking salacious thoughts about them. When he pulls his sunglasses off, you have to fight the urge to swoon, because damn - a face like that belongs in a magazine.

Mr Handsome saunters up to the counter, hands thrust into his pockets and you dash over to assist him, wiping your sweaty palms on your apron and hoping to the dear gods above that you don’t make a fool of yourself.

“H-hi,” you stutter, immediately chiding yourself for letting him see how flustered you are. “Um, how can I help you?”

The man smiles, “What do you recommend I get?” he asks. Oh, sweet lord, that voice — gifted to him by the goddamn angels. Deep and mellow, but at the same time slightly husky. It makes your knees weak.

You gulp, trying desperately not to get lost in the alluring blue of his eyes. “Um, well, th—the lemon tart. That’s—that’s my favourite. And—uh, if you want a drink, the—um, any coffee’s good,”.

“D’you make them?” he asks, leaning casually against the pastry display.

Oh.

Your brain very much like how that posture makes his shirt ride up slightly, exposing just the tiniest strip of flesh. You force yourself to take a deep breath to steady your racing heart. “I—yes. I make them,” you reply.

Mr Handsome grins, “Then of course they’re gonna be good,” he quips.

You blush. “Oh, um—,”

“I’ll have whatever your specialty is,” he says, “And the lemon tart. And your name, if that’s okay,”.

You giggle girlishly, internally wincing at how high-pitched and fake it sounds. “It’s Y/N,” you tell him, “Would you like that to-go?”

“I’m James,” he says simply, shifting to rest both both elbows on the counter as you step away, “And yes, to-go. I’ve got to meet someone,”.

This close, you can’t help but notice the sleek leather glove he wears on his left hand. For a brief moment, you wonder why he has it covered up. “Sure thing,” you murmur distractedly, grabbing a take-away cup and turning the coffee machine on, grabbing the milk you’ll need to fix him — James, you remind yourself — a latte.

“Quiet, today, huh?” James comments, taking stock of the little shop.

“It’s normally pretty quiet around this time,” you admit, “Kinda like it. The mornings are the busiest, so it’s nice to get a break after,”.

“You’ve been working here long?” he asks curiously.

“Um, just over a year,” you reply. “But I’m hoping that changes soon,”.

“Oh? Explain, if you don’t mind,”.

You sigh, hitting a few buttons on the coffee machine and watching as it starts to warm up. “Well, I’ve…I’ve always wanted to have my own shop. A little bakery, somewhere. I’ve got my eye on a place, but I haven’t had the money to put down a deposit. So I’ve been saving up,” you tell James, as you pull out a box to put his lemon tart in.

“Sounds lovely,” he murmurs, smiling at you. “You bake, huh?”

“Yeah,” you reply, smiling fondly as memories of Sunday mornings spent in your mother’s kitchen spring to mind. “My mama and I used to bake all sorts of things on the weekends. We’d have bake sales, sometimes, to raise money for whatever charity my dad was supporting at the time. We were gonna open a bakery together. I was gonna go to pastry school, and everything,”.

“What changed?” James asks quietly, sensing the wistfulness in your tone.

You’re silent for a moment, masking your hesitation by fussing around with his drink, finishing the art on his foam with a well-practiced flick of your wrist. When it’s done, you turn around, fold your arms over your chest and bite your lip. Talking about your mother and your shattered dreams have stirred up feelings of grief and loss that you’d thought were long buried in the back of your mind. The rational part of you knows that you have no obligation to tell James anything, but there’s an honesty in his eyes that makes you trust him.

“I—my dad lost his job, which he’d had for nearly twenty years. He—he drank. A lot. And one night, he was driving drunk, with my ma in the passenger seat, and they—didn’t make it home,”, you say, voice a little strained at the end.

“I’m sorry,” James says, and when your gaze flicks over to him, you see genuine sincerity in his gaze. “That must’ve been hard for you,”.

You shrug, crossing over to the pastry display and using out a pair of tongs to pull out a lemon tart, which you carefully slide into the box you’ve prepared. “It was, but it was a while ago. I’ve…been doing okay since then. Still hoping to open that bakery someday,”.

“I’m sure you will,” James murmurs.

“And yourself?” you ask, turning your back to him temporarily so that you can secure the box shut. “What do you work as?”

“I—am a writer,” James answers, though his tone is a little terse. “Well, at least, I’m supposed to be one,”.

“What d’you mean?”

“I’ve…had writer’s block. For the longest time. And my editor and publisher—they’re starting to get impatient. I just…haven’t been in the mood for it, y’know?”

“My sympathies,” you reply, looping a blue ribbon around the box and deftly tying it into a neat bow. “That must suck,”.

“Yeah,” James sighs, “But talking to you has helped given me some ideas,”.

“Really?” you murmur, lips quirking up into an easy smile as you hand him his drink and tart. “That’s eleven, please,”.

“Yes, really,” James says sincerely, fishing out his wallet from back pocket and handing you a twenty dollar bill. “Keep the change,”.

“Oh, no, I—,”

“Please,” James says, already beginning to walk towards the door, “Save up for your little bakery,”.

You duck your head so that he can’t see the smile bursting over your expression, “Thanks,”.

“See you around,” he calls, as he shoulders the door open.

As you watch his form get swallowed by the swarming crowd outside, you give yourself a mental smack to the forehead for not having the foresight to give him your number. All you can do now is hope that you see James sometime soon.

——————————

“Ooh, hottie alert,” Natasha snickers, eyes flickering across the room towards the bar. Following her line of sight, you crane your neck to see who she’s referring to, Peggy and Wanda doing likewise.

“Oh, god,” Peggy groans, eyes widening slightly.

“Oh yes,” Wanda says, a grin spreading over her face.

It’s Friday night, which means that you and the girls are spending the evening at your favourite bar, parked in your default corner booth. You’re nursing a G&T, and somehow, Natasha has managed to coax everyone into a game of truth or dare. The aforementioned game has just been interrupted, as Nat has spotted one of the bar’s other frequent customers.

“You have to ask him out, Pegs,” Wanda insists, eyes still trained on the muscular blonde. “He’s a really nice guy,”.

“For the hundredth time, it’s not happening,” Peggy growls sullenly, gaze firmly fixed on the empty beer bottle in the middle of the table. “Now, come on, Natasha, spin it, will you?”.

Nat arches on perfectly-sculpted eyebrow, but says nothing as she gives the bottle a spin with a deft flick of her wrist. As luck would have it, the spout ends up pointing in Peggy’s direction.

“Truth or dare?” Natasha asks, grinning smugly as she sits back in her chair.

Peggy quirks up her own eyebrow in response to Natasha’s unspoken challenge. Those two go after each other like a pair of fighting bulls, honestly. “Dare,” Peggy says, tone resolute and confident.

“Oooh,” Wanda murmurs, tilting her head closer to yours. “Nat’s dare are the worst,”.

“Or best, depending on how you look at it,” you reply. Wanda snorts, amused.

Nat cocks her head to the side and chews her lip thoughtfully, brow furrowed in concentration. One finger idly traces the rim of her glass. “Got it!” she says, snapping her gaze to Peggy, “I dare you, to go over to the bar and ask blondie out,”.

“Steve?” Peggy hisses, agahast, “Natasha—no,”.

“Natasha, yes,” Nat shoots back, fighting hard to keep the triumphant, mocking grin from spreading across her face.

“Please,” Peggy begs, “I—I you know how I feel about—,”.

“And that is precisely, why you have to do it,” Natasha interrupts. “I’m doing you a favour here,”.

“I shan’t do it,” Peggy grumbles.

“It’s a dare, you have to do it. Those are the rules,” Natasha says flatly, tone leaving no further room for argument.

“C’mon, Peggy,” Wanda urges, “You two have been making eyes at each other for the last month. It was gonna happen eventually,”.

“Fine,” Peggy huffs, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Fine, I’ll do it. But on one condition. Y/N has to come with me,”.

“I—what?” you ask sharply.

“For moral support,” Peggy explains, turning to look at you with pleading eyes.

“Since when have you needed moral support for shit like this?” Nat mumbles.

Peggy turns up the intensity of her gaze and you feel your resolve melting under it. When have you ever been able to say no to one of your friends, anyway?

“Okay, okay,”, you sigh, “Let’s go. C’mon, up,”.

“Good luck!” Wanda chirps, as you and Peggy make your way over to the corner of the bar that Steve is leaning against. Peggy clutches your elbow when you draw nearer, as if needing some physical reassurance. 

“I can’t believe I let her talk me into this,” Peggy mutters under her breath, casting an evil glance in Nat’s direction.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. He seems like a nice enough guy. What d’you want me to do?” you ask.

“Umm…can you do the introductions?” Peggy whispers, “You’re always so much better at that part,”.

You roll your eyes. “So long as you do the actual asking,” you respond dryly.

“Deal,”.

Peggy drops her hand from your elbow, allowing you to saunter up to Steve. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, watching as you nonchalantly lean back against the counter, then swivel your head to look directly at his profile. Somewhere to your left, Peggy hovers, apprehension radiating off her in thick waves.

When he senses you looking at him, Steve turns his head and flashes you a gentle smile. “Can I help you, ma’am?” he asks, voice deep and gentle.

“Ma’am?” you echo, a smirk pulling at the corner of your lips. “My, my, you are a polite one, aren’t you?”

Steve shrugs and ducks his head, a pink flush spreading over his cheeks. “Well, my ma raised me to always remember my manners,” he admits.

“God bless her,” you say. “You’re Steve, right? I’m pretty sure we’ve talked before. Just, y’know, with me being a lot more drunk,”.

Steve chuckles heartily, eyes glinting with merriment. “Yes, I seem to recall something along those lines happening,”.

You laugh along with him, before resting a hand on his forearm pointedly. His eyes flicker over your face, confusion furrowing his brow. “Is there something I can help you with?” he repeats.

“Actually, there is something,”, you murmur, motioning with your fingers for Peggy to come forward. She appears by your side not a heartbeat later, and Steve turns to face her.

“Hi,” Peggy says, body going uncharacteristically tense. “I’m—Peggy. We’ve uh—,”. You resist the urge to giggle; you’ve never seen Peggy this flustered. Steve must really be doing a number on her heart.

“Hey, I’ve seen you in here before, haven’t I?” Steve asks, gracefully swooping in to save Peggy from potentially making a fool of herself. Well, really, she’s too composed to make a fool of herself, but you appreciate Steve’s thoughtfulness, nonetheless. Sensing that your work here is done, and that the two are about to have a conversation, you step away, giving them some privacy.

“Yes,” Peggy breathes, relief spreading through her shoulders, “Yes, we have. I’ve got a question to ask you, actually,”

“Ask away,” Steve says, smiling easily at her.

“Would you like to dance?” she blurts out.

“I’d love to—,” is what Steve begins to say, before he is cut off by his phone vibrating on the table beside him, pinging with the noise of an incoming text. Steve glances at the screen and frowns, “Sorry, I need to get this,” he mutters, shooting Peggy an apologetic look. He unlocks his phone and swipes a few buttons, brow becoming increasingly furrowed as the seconds tick past.

With a heavy sigh, he straightens up and gives Peggy a pained look.

“Is everything alright?” Peggy asks concernedly.

Steve sighs heavily and runs his fingers through his hair. “I—something came up. A friend—my best friend. He’s—I need to see him,”. He pauses, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance,”, he murmurs, looking at Peggy through his outrageously long lashes.

“Alright,” Peggy says softly, “A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club,”

“You got it,”, Steve replies, a hesitant smile spreading over his face.

“Eight o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late, understood?”, she continues. That sounds more like the Peggy you know; firm and unrelenting, not taking any bullshit from anyone.

Steve manages a chuckle, amused by her forwardness. “You know, I don’t actually know how to dance,” he admits, adding a little shrug for emphasis.

“I’ll show you how,” Peggy says, expression and tone softening, “Just be there,”.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Steve replies, a far-off look in his eyes. “Here, let me give you my number,”, he mutters, patting his pockets for a pen and grabbing his napkin from under his glass. He flips it over to the drier side and scrawls on it a string of digits, before thrusting the little tissue into her palm. “See you, I guess,” Steve says, flashing Peggy one final, cheeky grin, before turning to head out the door.

“Bye,” Peggy murmurs, expression distant and fond and love-struck.

“I think someone’s in it deep,” you sing-song, elbowing her playfully in the ribs.

“Oh hush, you,” Peggy snaps, but there’s no heat in her voice, which only makes you cackle gleefully. “So what if I am? I think he’s a nice guy to have a crush on,”.

“I wonder if her has a friend that’s just as nice?” you muse, “Nice guys are so hard to come by, nowadays,”. Even as you speak, your mind thinks back to a dark-haired, well-dressed stranger walking into your shop, putting butterflies in your stomach whilst simultaneously making you feel completely at ease.

“Want me to ask him?” Peggy says, waving the napkin in her hand.

“I think I’m good,”, you murmur, grabbing her upper arm and leading her back to the booth where Nat and Wanda are waiting anxiously.

She shrugs. “Suit yourself,”.

——————————

Peggy breaks the news once you’re on the way back home.

“You what?”

“I set you up on a blind date!” she repeats.

“With who? When?” you ask incredulously.

“Steve’s friend,” Peggy replies, “After I got his number, I decided to ask,”.

“Steve’s friend?” you echo, “I told you not to ask!”

“You never told me explicitly,” Peggy says defensively, “You just said ‘I think I’m good’, so I took it upon myself to ask on your behalf. His name’s Bucky, by the way,”.

“Call it off,” you growl.

“I shan’t,” Peggy replies, in that tone she uses when she’s unwilling to back down from a fight.

“Y/N, you haven’t been on a date in months,” Wanda interjects, “Maybe this’ll do you some good,”.

“C’mon, Y/N, what harm can it do? You might actually like the guy,” Natasha adds, slinging her arm over your shoulders.

“Fat chance,” you grumble, thinking back to James at your cafe. You’ve only spent ten minutes, at most with him, but you’re positive that he’s taken your heart.

“Just try,” Wanda implores. “When is it, Peggy?”

“Tomorrow, 8pm, at that Thai place ‘round the corner,”, she replies.

“Fine,” you grumble, “I’ll do it, if it’ll make y’all leave me alone,”.

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