#keep making typos and I feel the coffee caffeine in my Bones (hands) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dwaynepride · 4 years ago

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how was i to know?

summary: reader has a weird dream about gibbs.

have you ever done anything for the ‘ya know what kind of wood this is’ Gibbs dream that both Quinn and Palmer had?

words: 1700

warnings: slight nsfw

tags: @fairytale07 @jrenn10 @f4nboi @purplestarsr5 @ladyzombiielove @littlemiss3ma @minikate--24-05 @consultingdoctorwholock @kittenlittle24 @24601error-prisonernotfound @andreasworlsboring101 @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy @ms-allenbrown @ikbenplant @dylpickles1267 @diaryofafan17 @specialagentlokitty @pageofultron @stanathanxoox

a/n: it’s been a while since i’ve posted. this isn’t beta-read so ignore the typos. be free, my thots.

Your eyes just weren’t focusing anymore.

It’s been hours (don’t ask how many) since you’ve sat down at your desk to read over case files. The bane of a federal agent - chained to their desk and forced to go over every scrap of evidence and testimonies to find anything useful and it’s the burden placed squarely on your shoulders for today.

Usually, you have tricks to help when the words start blending together. Getting some coffee, going for a walk, visiting Abby because she’s the physical embodiment of caffeine and normally wakes you up.

But nothing helped. And the words kept swimming over the screen.

You’re not learning anything new from sitting here. But with the team hitting a roadblock in the case, what else is there to do?

Again, you start reading the paragraph that you’ve been trudging through for the past twenty minutes. But this time, as your focus wavers, it’s not because of the headache or the tension in your eyes. The sudden presence on your right is what stops your reading. It’s warm. All-encompassing. Brings over the soft smell of sawdust and aftershave and as soothing at the presence is, it’s a shock to you.

Because you could have sworn you were alone in the bullpen - staying behind while the others went off to find new leads.

Your eyes move off the computer screen, meaning to glance over to the presence. But you never see their face because they’re suddenly leaning in. Hovering over your shoulder, shrouding you from the harsh office lights, and you reckon if you take in a big enough breath, you’d be able to feel the warm presence pressing against your shoulder.

Their face was a mystery, and yet, you can feel a pair of eyes watching you - hard, steely, freezing you in your chair.

And without warning, a hand comes to rest on the surface of your desk, next to the keyboard. A worn, scarred hand that you recognize with a jolt. The named of its owner lies on the tip of your tongue, but it never comes out - like a secret you’ve sworn to keep.

His fingers curl a bit, knocking lightly against the top of your desk. The sound could’ve easily been mistaken as the pounding of your heart, if one listened close enough.

“You know what kinda wood that is?”

The voice mumbled against your ear is low and deep. Sounding like a bass drum and its sound reverberates through your body and you’re pretty sure it’s the reason why your hands are suddenly a little shaky.

“W-wood?” You manage to echo back. A single word, hoping for clarification because your brain is moving at a snail’s pace. You’re simply too preoccupied on the warm, wet breathing that wafts over your neck.

His fingers start tapping against the desk in some unknown rhythm. And your eyes watch them move, entranced, and you keep telling yourself to look away and focus on something else but it’s much too easy to just keep staring. “Yeah. You outta know.” His voice is closer. More hushed. And that’s because his lips are right against the shell of your ear and his breath is blazing hot.

And through it all, you can catch the faint scent of bitter coffee and it only makes your skin tingle even more.

You suppress a shudder, if only to deny him the satisfaction of feeling it.

His presence somehow keeps growing larger - more encompassing, like a storm cloud rolling over the city. The words on the monitor; they don’t exist. There’s no more Naval Yard or team of federal agents or a whole case to solve.

It’s just you, him, and the hard, cold press of the wooden desk keeping you here.

Finally, you turn your head towards him. Words form on the edge of your tongue - stern words of annulment and to tell him you’re too busy for his games.

But then you meet his eyes. Head on - and they give you pause. Frozen in place, as if the icy blues really could chill you to the bone. So close, you could catch faint flecks of gray and gold floating around in the ocean of light blue and this time, it’s impossible to push down the shudder.

Now, his breath wafts over your lips slowly in his careful exhale, sounding almost disappointed and you’re shocked at how much that thought troubles you.

“Want to get a closer look?” He mumbles, eyes falling blatantly to your lips before coming back to meet your gaze.

A closer look? Damn him.

This must be some kind of sick game for him - to see how far he can push you before you bend to him. He knows the implications of his question. You’ll start imagining yourself bent over the desk, looking closely to study the wood and its rings and texture. Everything he wants you to look for. Your mind will wonder, and suddenly, the image of him fucking you, hard and purposeful, over the desk pops up and you’ll never be able to get it out of your head.

And it works like a god damn charm.

His head tilts to the side, eyes softening to look amused. Probably because he notices you’re panting lighting and can feel it against his lips. “I can show you, if you want,” he murmurs. Still acting innocent. Still keeping with this game.

You breathe in because your head starts getting dizzy from lack of oxygen, but that proves a fatal mistake.

Because the air itself smells like him - like coffee and smoke and old cologne and it goes straight between your thighs and you find yourself craving the feel of his scarred, worn-out hands on your skin. “Gibbs…”

His name comes out weak, like a shiver. And when he hums in response to it, you can nearly feel the vibration through the air and pulsing against your body. And slowly, carefully, his hand comes up to touch your shoulder. The first real, raw physical contact and you wait for it with baited breath. Suddenly craving it more than the air itself.

As it connects, you expect a soft sort of seering feel. Like a branding iron. Instead, it’s a hard and sudden shove that seems to rock the entire world.

It’s so hard, your eyes snap open instantly, sucking in a gasp of air like you’d just been held underwater. Those cold blue eyes that had so easily frozen you solid were gone, replaced with the familiar scene of the office doused in the light of a sunset.

The stifling presence of Leroy Jethro Gibbs was also gone - in a way, you were grateful for the freedom. It was much easier to breathe now, that’s for certain. But the second thing you notice upon sitting up in your chair isn’t as appreciated.

Your body is humming. Heart pounding a million miles a second. And your skin...it’s almost painfully sensitive. So much so, even your clothes rubbing against it is almost too much to bear. For a moment, you can still feel Gibbs and his warm breath and the remains of his touch.

But the worst realization is the deep throb between your legs. Aching and pulsing for something - or someone - that will never come. Your thighs shift together, hoping to ease the feel but the friction only seems to make it worse.

“You fell asleep.”

That’s his voice.

Your head whips up to find Gibbs standing by your desk - watching you, his eyebrows pinched together and standing in nearly the same exact spot as in your dream and it’s a shock that you even realize that.

Immediately, you let your gaze fall - everything is throbbing just a little too much to meet his eyes. “And you were making some noises,” he continues. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you answer immediately. Too quick, you realize. Gibbs may not believe the dream was simply nothing, and it’s proven when he takes a small step closer to you. His shoes nearly nudge against yours, and you can’t stop yourself from tucking your feet under the chair away from him.

His eyes are still on you. It takes an enormous amount of effort to keep your breathing steady and to stop the light shake of your hands to even pretend everything was normal. “You sure?” He asks. And this time, his tone is different. Just slightly - it wouldn’t even had been noticeable if dream-Gibbs hadn’t spoken so softly right in your fucking ear.

You need to get a fucking grip.

It was just a dream. A vivid, extremely hot dream. But a dream nonetheless. Not real.

“Very sure,” you reply, forcing your tone to sound more confident that you feel. It’s still impossible to meet his eyes - you know they’d be every bit as frosty blue and cool as in your dream, so you just spin your chair to face the desk. “You just woke me up from an intense dream.”

Gibbs hums a bit at the explanation. “Gonna tell me about it?”

“Definitely not.”

Out the corner of your eye, Gibbs just shrugs before turning back to his own desk and sitting down. Now that his whole focus isn’t on you, the rest of the world start to filter back in. The golden light of a setting sun coming in through the windows. The ambience of the office, winding down from a long day. Gibbs sipping his coffee.

It gets easier to slow your beating heart. To ignore the slow, steady throb between your thighs.

And carefully, you glance up across the bullpen to Gibbs. His eyes are on the monitor, paying you no attention.

“Gibbs.” That is, until you say his name carefully. Like an experiment.

And when the shock of his eyes hits you once again, it’s nearly as powerful and earth-shaking as it was in the dream. But this time, you hold his gaze. Because there’s something you need to know before you can put this dream behind you and get back to work.

Your hand comes up, knuckles rapping lightly against the wooden surface of the desk. It sounds louder than it should.

“Do you know what kind of wood this is?”

#ncis imagine #ncis x reader #ncis reader insert #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs imagine

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dat-town · 6 years ago

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hearts in the foam (and typos in names)

Characters: Minhyuk (Rocky) & You

Genre: so much fluff!

Setting: coffee shop au

Summary: You always spell his name wrong because his frustrated face is too precious.

Words: 1.7k

Shoutout for @kmhoodys because I totally stole this from our list of AUs, hope you enjoy it! ♥ Also for @restlessmaknae as a thank you for getting me into the fandom.

Park Minhyuk would like to think that he's a patient and kind person in general. He's pretty sure his friends would agree – maybe not Sanha but that's only because that brat likes to dance on others' nerves. His mom is probably biased but according to her he is the sweetest boy in the universe – okay, most definitely biased. But the thing about Minhyuk is that he gets on well with everybody: with the elderly of the neighbourhood because he's genuinely interested in their stories and is happy to help with their Internet connection when they want to FaceTime with their grandchildren, with his classmates who know they can count on him whenever because he is a trustworthy member of the student council and even with all kinds of animals – except cicadas – but dogs in particular love him. So he's an overall lovable person, okay?

But mornings are definitely the rock bottom for him. He knows he can be pretty grumpy before a reasonable hour but he still tries hard to behave like a decent human being. One thing he needs in his morning routine is some kind of coffee even is he prefers latte over strong caffeine. And since he is a man of reasonable choices he always buys his daily cup of energy in the lovely café on the campus because it happens to be on his way to university. They make it just as creamy and sweet as he likes it. However there's one thing he can't stand about the service there.

“They keep getting my name wrong!” he groans dramatically as soon as he slumps down next to his friends at the lecture hall. They all – except Moonbin who looks like as if he had run the marathon this morning – look up at him just as sleepily as he feels with bones buried under tiredness.

“Who?” Jinwoo furrows his brows as he tries and fails to contain a yawn.

“This one girl who works in the morning shift of the café. I’m a regular but she still asks for my name and manages to mess it up,” Minhyuk blurts out what his problem is all at once. He puts down his paper cup on his desk and glares at it so gruesomely as if it was the source of all his troubles, the bane of his existence.

“Maybe she has very bad memory?” Dongmin tries to reason with a weak guess.

“But come on, I have one of the most common male names in Korea! There are at least dozens of idols with this name,” the offended guy shakes his head and instead of useful advices or mental support what he gets is Myungjun arguing whether there's really that much Minhyuk in the kpop industry and he starts to count them out loud. Only Jinwoo seems helpful and attentive enough to engage in the conversation even further.

“True, you have a pretty usual name. What can she confuse it with?” he wonders and the question makes Minhyuk sigh as he is reminded of all times he faced with different syllables written on the cup instead of the ones he should have.

“Minhyun, Mingyu, Minhoon, Minjae, Min-whatever or today: Minhee! For god's sake, that's a girl name!” he grimaces when he loses counting the names on his fingers. There were even more occasions but he really couldn't keep track on all the names that girl came up with. He was fairly sure she was doing it on purpose and probably spent her time on Naver searching for even more names but the 30 million dollar question was: why? Why would she do that?

“Maybe you should try something new. An English name maybe,” Sanha suggests and Minhyuk can't believe that he's actually planning to take his advice but he has run out of any better ideas. Now he wanted to see once for all if the girl really did it on purpose or not.

So the next morning when he walked into the café and saw you at the counter, he mustered up all his courage to go to you like he did almost every day and make a bit of a fool out of himself with a smile on his face.

“Good morning! What can I get for you?” You turned to him, lovely as always. He swore your smiles were similar to sunrays warming the Earth and the glint in your eyes was like the stars in the universe. You looked the prettiest in that cute apron out of all the baristas at this place and it was truly devastating that it was your habit that made him frown with each cup of coffee he got.

“A large vanilla latte to go, thanks,” he repeats his usual order almost automatic and when you say the price he already knows, he pays without any other word.

He knows how the process goes by heart. He has been through this routine half-asleep, running to classes and totally out of it too, so it’s no-brainer what's next. So there it comes: you grab a pen and a big empty cup looking up at him with curious anticipation in your expressive eyes.

“Your name, please.”

It takes everything in him not to snap or blurt out his real name this time, but he keeps a straight face as he says: “Rocky.”

He watches your expression closely but you're either oblivious or a great actress because you don't even bat an eyelash before shifting your gaze to the cup and scribbling something on it.

“I'll let you know when it's done,” you promise softly and turning around you start to work on his drink as he sulkily sits down at a table while waiting. These quiet, short minutes has always given him the perfect opportunity to watch over you, the grace in your movements, the way you dance a bit to the silly songs from the radio or just the frown of concentration on your forehead as you draw the perfect heart in the foam of his latte. He almost forgets about his little test until you remind him to it in that melodic voice you have.

He's almost dreadful when you call him and he takes his cup. He shouldn't worry since everybody knows the American movie, you can't mess that up. And yet, you still do. The writing on the cup is definitely too long to be Rocky and isn't even a name to begin with.

You look cute when you are annoyed, it says and he just stands there dumbfounded while you're already serving another guest not paying attention to him any longer. He sticks by just a bit longer watching as the next guest gets his coffee – without heart in the foam! – then his alarm reminds him to get going.

He reads the message again and again as he walks towards the university building. At first he doesn't know what to do with it but then it makes him grin, then laugh. He doesn't even complain to his friends about the coffee girl that day and decides to change his strategy next time he visits.

It’s a lovely, warm morning, yet he can’t wait to have a hot drink in his hands. This time he came prepared. He waits for his turn patiently but he can't suppress a sly grin on his lips when he finally gets to the front of the queue. You nod in acknowledgement when he orders his usual, curly locks of hair falling into your eyes as you hover over the cup, pen ready in hand.

“Can I get your name?” You follow the routine and at this point, Minhyuk becomes sneaky.

“Yes,” he says simply, irrevocably and for once you seem surprised halting in your movements.

“What?”

“Yes.” he repeats clearer, not breaking eye contact as you croak a brow at him.

“Okay,” you huff out with an amused smile tinting your rosy lips.

Then he has nothing better to do than play with the piece of paper in his hands and wait until you call his so-called name for his done drink. He steals glances at you a few times in the meantime and once he catches you staring back at him. You both look away caught red-handed. Though, it boosts his confidence enough to stride to the counter with pride when you call for him.

“Large latte for Yes,” you say it with all seriousness in the world without any wariness in your voice. The other guests in the café might look weirdly at the two of you but you don’t care.

“Thanks,” he walks up to you and gently takes the cup from your hands finger still brushing yours lightly. Quickly he checks the ‘name’ written on it and he puts a similar paper cup into your hands.

“Hope you are free Friday,” he says with a cheeky smile leaving your astonished once again.

“What?” you blink, fingers mindlessly playing with the used cup you just got.

“You just said yes,” Minhyuk shakes his own drink flashing your writing on it and you look down on the cup placed in your right. It's the one from last time, your compliment and a new line in messy handwriting under your message: Would you like to go out sometime?

Very smooth, you have to give him that and you can’t help but smile. You wondered when he was going to step up his game. You were anticipating, to be honest.

“Do I have to call you by your name then, Minhyuk?” you teasingly ask, mouth curled up in a charming smile as you gaze settles on the boy with most beautiful chocolate eyes you have ever seen. Not to mention the cute nose scrunch he does when he’s frustrated. If he asked you would admit that the first time was a mistake for real, a careless typo but after that you became careless and it turned into a game to play. You’re glad he went along with it.

“I don't know. Maybe you can come up with a better one,” he shrugs now and the smile he flashes you might become your next favourite thing about him. He leans a bit forward and quiets down his voice as if he whispered a secret.

“Maybe you could try something sounding like boyfriend. We will see,” he winks at you and when he leaves the café shop he not only brings his latte along with him but a little piece of your heart already.

#astro fanfic #astro oneshot #astro fluff #rocky fanfic #rocky fluff #park minhyuk #rocky onshot #astro minhyuk #stories #coffee shop au

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bluehero · 6 years ago

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The Sergeant’s Soulmate Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky X Y/N

Warnings: Mostly fluff but smut happens :/

Summary: Y/N, a research scientist, finds herself in Wakanda giving her the opportunity to further her research using their technology - now that they’ve opened their borders to the rest of the world. She always dreamed of adventure, but never thought she’d cross paths with a former assassin super soldier with a jawline that could cut glass. Trying to navigate her 20′s, career and love life, Bucky Barnes is about to become her compass.

Word Count: 5,582

A/N: To say I am terrified is an understatement, and I have a tendency to ramble so I’ll keep this short. Basically I wrote this at a time when my anxiety was sky high and just needed to find creative outlet. I never thought I’d ever put it online as I have never written a fanfic before. But I have read what feels like thousands of Bucky fanfics and they have brought me such joy and comfort so I thought if there was even the slightest chance that someone somewhere might read this and smile, it was worth the leap of faith to figure out tumblr and upload. So here we are...

P.S Please forgive any typos and grammatical errors, I’m an emotional mess 24/6

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After a long day fuelled only by coffee and short hopeful gazes outside the nearby window, Y/N was called into her boss’s office. It had been six months of working as a research scientist specialising in psychology after a few years of med school. She felt she had learned so much through her work but ironically anxiety was never far and seemed to creep in when the pressure to deliver got too much. But she loved her field and held on to the hope that her hard work and passion for understanding the human brain would take her on a life of adventure. Somehow. One day.

“The Wakandan medical boards have begun to take interest in our research…” her boss was a veteran of the industry with a kind place in his heart for those suffering as he himself once did long ago. “That’s amazing” was all Y/N could say as she was overwhelmed with excitement knowing how much Wakandan technology could further their work. When she was asked to work alongside him in Wakanda for 3 weeks at the kings’ headquarters, all she could squeak out was 'I would love the opportunity, thank you'. Sometimes she just couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't smart enough to be where she was but was always told by those that cared for her that she worked hard enough and didn’t need to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders.

The flight was long and smooth like the coffee she needed to wake her up to the beautiful Wakandan morning as they landed. But even with the caffeine she found herself zoning out of the meetings that rolled on through the day. She had always been a daydreamer and the Wakandan views felt surreal, Y/N could picture herself sitting under the tallest trees bathed in the glow of the sunrise - the only thing better than the sunsets apparently. She was pulled back to reality by the King’s empowering speech about Wakanda finally being apart of research that could lead to helping those suffering throughout the country – One of whom, seemed to have woken up in a rather good mood that morning.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair and parted the curtain to his hut just enough to step out and take a pensive look around him. Maybe he wanted to take it all in, again, after months of being in paradise just to remind himself it was real. Or maybe he just wanted to clear all the vantage points for any potential threats. He couldn’t tell the difference anymore. That day however, he felt a sense of safety deep in his bones, as if the tide was finally changing. There were days he would feel so close to the man he used to be, self-assured and in control but these were balanced out by the days he’d barely feel like a ghost of himself, his bones aching with the weight of his past. Shuri came walking over to him seemingly understanding the journey his head had gone through in the last few minutes. “Sergeant Barnes, would you mind coming to the labs? I’ve designed an upgrade for your arm that I think you’re going to like “, “Bucky…” he muttered, reminding Shuri that she was probably the closest thing he had to family, barring Steve. “…Lead the way doc”.

It was only after the session that Shuri convinced Bucky to attend the party that evening. She believed he would remember the fun he used to have in the 40’s and get reconnected to the few happier memories of his past. Now with the trigger words out of his system, a new lease of life (and a farm), she secretly wanted him to meet Y/N, who had become her closest friend over the past few months.

Shuri was Y/N's point of contact back in London where they would skype to discuss business arrangements, but they became fast friends after Shuri could hear Kendrick Lamar spilling out of her headphones accidentally during one of their business calls. They ended up sharing numbers and messaging each other every day bonding over their passions and finding comfort in one another after a bad day. Shuri got to learn that Y/N didn’t always know her own worth but that she had a heart of gold and kindness within her, just like the Bucky she had begun to unravel.

Y/N was sliding on her last black heel and fixing the dodgy clasp when her boss knocked at her door. She raked a hand through her hair for the fifth time while taking last look in the mirror. The party that night was to welcome all the international doctors and scientists – but mostly give them a chance to let loose. Her long black dress had a slit on her left leg travelling slightly higher than she would usually dare – a dress that Shuri had told her would be perfect. Her dusky pink lipstick made her smile appear brighter to contrast her slickly black lined eyelids. She tucked the hair on her left behind her ear to allow her silver drop down earing to glisten slightly as she hurried to the door.

A few floors up, Steve helped Bucky with his bow tie. Shuri had left his visit as a surprise for Bucky given that it was his birthday the day before and she hadn’t gotten him anything other than a giant cake with ‘Happy Birthday Senior Citizen’ iced across the top. Steve naturally brought along a few other avengers including Natasha who was sporting a similar dress to Y/N which was no doubt for his benefit later, along with Sam and Clint who just couldn’t stay away from a good party.

Steve instantly picked up on Bucky’s discomfort as he shifted around in his tux. “You nervous?” Steve asked giving Bucky a pat on the back. “It’s just a little weird- haven’t had to wear one of these in a while.” Bucky muttered as he fixed his cufflinks T’Challa gifted him as a thank you for attending the party. Truthfully Bucky was trying to muster up the self-confidence he used to exude, having confronted how closed off he had become with Shuri in their sessions. As if Steve could sense it all he joked with Bucky asking with a sheepish grin, “Remember that time Peggy walked into that pub back in London?”. “How could I forget – the day I became invisible” Bucky muttered back with a smile that reached his eyes in appreciation of his brother trying to pull him out of his own head. “By the way, did you end up taking those girls dancing that night while I was enlisting?” Steve asked through the laughter. The distant memory made a small laugh escape Bucky’s lips as he remembered, “Yeah, you could call it that” - that old confidence pulling him back to the present. They both laughed at the time gone by and gave each other a hug that said everything the other was thinking. “Jerk” Steve muffled by Bucky’s shoulder, “Punk” Bucky retorted.

All the avengers were at the bar when she walked in. Bucky’s eyes widened as they fixated on her like magnets. She cautiously stepped along with her boss, shaking hands with the guests and smiling with sincerity knowing they were all there to support a good cause. He felt she’d never hurt a fly. “Watch it” Bucky joked as Steve nudged the human arm he was using to hold a beer, still grinning a little despite being broken out of his reverie. Steve had seen that smile before, back in the 1940’s when Bucky had set his eyes on a woman to take… dancing.

“I saw where your eyes went..." Steve said, “...I heard she’s a scientist from London…”. Bucky took a long draught of his beer, his eyes never leaving Y/N's back from across the room as she began to take in the vast and beautifully decorated hall. He'd almost finished his beer when Steve said quietly “Go talk to her Buck.” Bucky turned his head just enough for Steve to catch his eyes and in that moment, he could see broken fragments in his friends eyes, understanding that he didn’t want to trouble anyone with his life – let alone the beautiful woman before him. “What have you got to lose?” Steve asked before he was whisked away by Natasha for a dance.

Y/N approached the bar, unknowingly heading for the empty space Steve left. As she came closer, she took in the sight of Bucky feeling a shiver run down her spine at such a man from his side profile as he watched the band begin to warm up, a sound he forgot he loved once so long ago. With a Marlon Brando smoulder, his hair had been slicked back slightly, glistening in the low lighting, and an upper back sculpted from a century of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He turned back to face the bar, leaving his magnificent profile as a snapshot in Y/N’s memory. “What can I get you?” the bartender asked Y/N. Bucky allowed the warmth and softness of her voice, rich like velvet caress his ear, as she ordered a whisky neat. But he sensed the slight anxiousness in her voice, only those closest to her would pick up on. “Actually, could I make that a double? Thanks”. She looked to her left at the man letting out a tiny huff, almost a laugh at the change in her order, and when he caught her gaze he growled out “Good call” as the hall began to heave with more people. She grinned looking back to the bar unable to look his way without blushing. Her eyes widened so briefly in disbelief that a man like him would strike up a conversation with her - lighting her up like a match inside. She didn’t realize Bucky had witnessed the flicker of her eyes and that he’d began to enjoy the effect he had on her. His metal arm whirred ever so slightly, masked by the sounds of the jazz band, due to the way her body had been defined by her dress when her long leg slipped out as she reached to grab her drink.

Bucky realized he’d been staring when she looked back at him. Her adrenaline kicked her mouth open to stumble out the words “Can I get you another?” motioning to his empty pint glass. “I probably shouldn’t” he replied inching ever so slightly closer to her. “Why not?” she teasingly asked. “Well, then I’d have an excuse to tell you that you’re beautiful.” Bucky muttered in a low voice. “When was the last time you used that line?” Y/N retorted thanks to the whiskey she downed in one. Bucky grinning, mistakenly thinking she’d be taken by his words, replied “About 70 years ago”. Y/N let out a sincere laugh, not realizing it was the truth and felt flustered by his charm. The realization that she was flirting with a Greek god of man caused her self-consciousness to creep in, convincing her to escape to the bathroom. “I should probably get ba- “

“You like Jazz?” He asked as his body turned to properly face her, back against the band. Truthfully, she loved it and couldn’t deny what jazz did to her soul. As if Bucky could read her mind, he asked “Do you have a favourite song?” he couldn’t believe the storm that was building inside of him watching her shy eyes drift away as she got lost in thought. “My funny valentine”, she managed to quietly say, with a little shrug Bucky found adorable.

She was pulled out of the bubble Bucky had been building when he began to turn as if to walk away. Her heart skipped a beat as she held breath when he dipped his head closer to her ear and hummed “I’ll be right back”. Her wild eyes locked onto his for a split second before he walked up to Steve and mouthed something to him that made him smile and pat Bucky on the shoulder. Then it clicked, she was watching the winter soldier talking to captain America. Before she could get a little starstruck, he was walking back to her slipping his left metal hand in his pocket. She thought it was a move of confidence when really, he just felt self-conscious of his metal arm, worried that he’d scare her away as she didn’t seem to recognize him straight away like most people. Bucky got used to the terrified faces when his arm was exposed and all the people nervously trying to stay away from him when they recognized him without the arm on display. He didn’t want to risk any of that with Y/N, especially not now that his heart had climbed out of his chest and had bared itself on his sleeve.

As the first few notes of the song began, Y/N’s mouth broke into a wide smile with a little laugh escaping her lips. She realized the band was playing her song and felt heat pulsing at the surface of her skin realizing the former Howling Commando was smiling at her, as he was charmed by her reaction. He was reminded of what life used to be like before the avengers, before Hydra, and back when life was simpler. With the newfound confidence this brought Bucky he held out his right hand just enough to ask her in a way his mother would be proud, “Care to dance?”. “You might have to show me how” she replied, utterly bewitched, a feeling she had never felt with any other man, despite there being a few in the past that saw what Bucky did.

She slid her hand into his feeling the warmth spreading across her body and the electricity between them as she sauntered across the dancefloor with Bucky leading the way. …Is your mouth a little weak… “My name is Y/N by the way” … as you open it to speak... “Bucky”. With their right hands clasped in each other’s, Bucky’s left metal arm snaked around her waist resting gently on her back, cautiously trying not to overstep any boundary as she slowly rested her left hand on his bicep. They fit like a puzzle immediately drawing in closer from the crowd. Her left hand slid over to rest on his shoulder as he began to lead with his right foot, Y/N instinctively let his body guide hers as she stepped back with her left. In a second of bravery, or fear that she’d never have this moment again, she looked up to meet his gaze. They both felt a sense of acceptance and safety in a way neither of them knew existed…. Don’t change a hair for me… Driven by desire, Y/N slipped her hand to the nape of Bucky’s neck, as he immediately followed her lead lowering his hand to the small of her back to bring her an inch closer. Melting into each other’s bodies, their lips were mere inches away when Bucky realized he’d found a moment of heaven …stay little valentine, stay… The smell of Bucky’s cologne drove Y/N to close her eyes and tilt her head with her chin almost over his shoulder as he brought their clasped hands to hold against his chest. Intoxicated by her perfume, he dropped his head down slightly closer to hers leaving them to sway hypnotically to the rest of the song with heavy lidded eyes… each day is valentine’s day… As the applause rang out, Y/N was pulled out of her reverie for a second long enough to see Bucky return to reality as well. They both let out a little huffed laugh, realizing the heat and comfort they found in each other’s embrace was intensifying a little too much for a dancefloor full of people. Bucky began to lead her back to the bar by the hand.

Tony had arrived shortly afterwards pretending to be hurt that there was a party happening on the globe somewhere that he didn’t know about. As a result, the bar was kept open all night testing Tony’s deep pockets, with even more people flooding in from Stark Industries, a few keen to fund the research projects being planned.

Bucky and Y/N found themselves at the bar a few drinks in for what felt like a minute to them but ended up being a few hours. The loud hall began to overwhelm the two so Bucky leaned into Y/N and muttered, “You wanna get outta here?” his Brooklyn accent drawn out by the liquor. “Sure- Oh wait one sec” she replied looking up to grab the attention of the bartender as she signalled something to him. Bucky gave a puzzled look with a lopsided grin as the bartender reached below the bar and discretely pulled out a bottle of expensive whiskey that Shuri had set aside for her as a thank you for attending the party knowing it took a lot for Y/N. “You ready?” Y/N asked Bucky with a little glint in her eye as she received the bottle. “After you, doll” Bucky retorted, pretty impressed by her move and not realizing the pet name had slipped out. She thought her knees were already weak until she heard him call her that.

As they stepped outside, Y/N noticed the undone clasp on her heel and handed Bucky the bottle “Could you hold this for a sec?” Bucky caught a glimpse of the heel as her leg slipped out from the slit in dress. “Allow me, doll” he muttered lowly as he bent down and began to feed the strap through the buckle agonizingly sensually Y/N almost let the bottle slip from her hand. His human fingers danced across her ankle as he finished and fought back the desire to kiss her leg. He made sure not to touch her with his metal fingers in fear that they would scorch her skin with the heat resonating through it, but he couldn’t resist lightly tracing her ankle with his human fingers as he stood back up.

Steve watched the pair leave unbeknownst to them and laughed thinking his beloved Bucky was back. He left later with an arm slung around Natasha’s shoulders with the rest of the avengers hobbling behind- inebriated to say the least.

Bucky stole two shot glasses from the kitchen they passed on their way to the gardens he would use as a retreat sometimes if things got too much. He led her to a nearby bench with a view of the endless night sky and the dancing silhouettes of the guests in the hall from a distance. “Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, best friends since childhood “she muttered slightly tipsy as she crossed her legs and leaned back on her side to face Bucky’s stoic profile, a view she was quickly becoming addicted to. He let out a small laugh but replied in a low voice, “You might be one of the few people that have stuck around for longer than a minute after realizing who I am.” “That can’t be true” Y/N replied softly. Bucky turned to look at her glowing eyes and gave her a reassuring smile as if to say don’t worry about me. “You want to play a game?” Y/N asked wide eyed, aching to see that glint in Bucky’s eyes again as she opened the bottle and began to pour the shots. “It’s probably not very responsible of me to get an avenger drunk though” she joked. “I can’t exactly get drunk” Bucky replied smirking. “Side effect of the serum?” Y/N asked with a raised eyebrow. “So, I’ve been told, doll” Bucky replied, relishing the blush it induced across her body. “You might also be one of the few scientists that have stuck around me for longer than a minute without running any blood tests or asking me about the arm”. Bucky joked flexing his metal fingers. “My research involves more psychological drugs and how they affect the brain actually…” Y/N went on to explain her role in the biggest project Wakanda has been a part of since opening their borders.

Bucky felt she had a way with words and wanted nothing more than to watch her talk for hours, studying the way her eyes would shine and water slightly when she got a little too passionate. The self-deprecation dusted over her words broke a little part of Bucky’s heart, wanting nothing more than to find out who instilled it in her that she wasn’t good enough - and beat the shit out of them. “I’m sorry to drone on about my work, I hope I didn’t talk you to sleep” she muttered. Bucky just gave her a lopsided grin, shook his head slightly and mumbled “God, you’re incredible”.

Y/N immediately looked down, shaking her head and biting her lip slightly to brush off the compliment. But truthfully, she had never felt so at ease with anyone she had just met. All she knew of the soldier was what she read in the Smithsonian exhibit, unaware of the humanity in the man only seen to the world as Captain America’s best friend – and the iron fist of Hydra.

She cleared her throat in an effort to dissipate the heat that was burning between them and proposed, “How about we ask each other a question, and if we don’t want to answer, take the shot”. “Ladies first”, he grinned already admiring her attempt to get to know each other without the pressure of their pasts.

“So, do you just wake up looking like this or...?” Y/N teasingly asked in an incredulous tone, which made Bucky laugh heartily. “That’s your question?” he asked, eyes glistening in the moonlight. “Well Shuri put some stuff in my hair, but everything else I was born with”. Y/N had to cross her legs a little tighter after feeling the look in his eyes resonate through her body.

“You seemed a little anxious earlier, can I ask why?” Bucky asked sincerely looking up to meet her eyes. “You’re very perceptive Bucky Barnes” Y/N replied with a cautious smile. “I’ve had to be” he replied with honesty and a slight eyebrow raise. “Well, I love my job but sometimes it can get intense and I freak out a little. Sometimes I just need a minute to breathe you know? - which can be hard when I’m surrounded by a bunch of scientists with decades of experience.” Y/N said in a quieter voice. “You belong up there with the best of’em Y/N” Bucky whispered leaning closer as her eyes met his. “You don’t even know me” Y/N whispered incredulously as her foot rested against his leg. “Why do I get the feeling we understand each other better than we know”. Before Y/N could get completely intoxicated by the Greek god of a man gently moving a strand of hair from her neck, Y/N stated with false confidence “Alright last question sergeant, and you’ve got to be honest”. Bucky smirked at the pet name, trying to hide how much he loved hearing it roll her off her tongue. “Favourite movie?” she asked. Bucky found himself in disbelief that he had been talking so effortlessly with someone he had just met without diving into the pain of his missions or life as an avenger. Which was always the topic of his conversations at any gathering Tony forced him to attend for the sake of the team.

“You probably won’t know it but, Top Hat. Fred Astaire and- “, Y/N finished his sentence nodding “… and Ginger Rogers”. “I used to save up, see all their movies on the big screen when I was a kid” he continued, pleasantly surprised by her knowledge. Not thinking she could fall further for the charming super soldier anymore she replied, “That explains the impeccable dance earlier”. Her face was flushed remembering Bucky’s strong embrace. “You weren’t so bad yourself, doll”. He could almost feel her fingertips delicately slide across his neck again. Bucky raised one of the untouched shots, “To the way you wear your hat”, to which Y/N replied, “The way you sip your tea”. After the pair downed both shots, Bucky felt more superhuman than usual and Y/N was close behind. They both agreed it was getting late after seeing most of the guests begin to trail out of the building wobbling. Much like them, Y/N stood up too quickly and lost her balance. Bucky instinctively reached out to hold her hand with his human hand as she steadied herself. Part of him had been craving contact ever since they stopped dancing, and Y/N willingly leaned into his touch. “You gonna be alright doll?”, “I’ll be fine, I’m just staying on the 4th floor” Y/N replied. “I’ll walk you up.” Bucky muttered.

On the slow walk back, the questions didn’t stop as Y/N felt completely at ease with the iron fist of hydra. “You could probably carry a car, or a house” she slurred, more of a verbal realization than a question as Bucky let out a hearty laugh and mumbled “Well I’ve lifted a motorbike”. “I could do that!” Y/N jested. “With one hand, while it’s moving?” Bucky asked with an eyebrow raised raising his glistening metal hand. “Yeah I couldn’t do that” she mumbled shaking her head laughing.

After her clasp came undone again, Bucky asked “You sure you’re ok to walk my love”. “My love?” she slurred smiling slightly, heavy lidded. He blamed the alcohol for the term of endearment, and also hoped she wouldn’t pick up on it not realising she was hanging on his every word. “You know what!” Y/N mumbled as she slipped off her shoes to walk barefoot. “I am now”. Bucky laughed and guided her down the grassy path with his hand on the small of her back. She instinctively held on to his arm and as a cooler breeze began to weave through the gardens. They both leaned in a little closer with her arm spreading across his chest to reach his other shoulder as she turned to avoid facing the sharper winds. “Com’ere, doll” Bucky took this as an invitation and picked her up to carry her bridal style. Y/N squeaked a little in surprise and almost dropped a shoe but allowed herself to lean her head into his shoulder.

Bucky carried her to her door without breaking a sweat while she absent-mindedly snaked her hand from his neck up to his jaw beginning to turn his head to face hers. Upon reaching the door, he gently eased her onto the ground while remaining entangled in each other’s limbs and eyes locked both still feeling slightly buzzed. Bucky leaned down as she leaned upwards her lips a breath away from his. “I’m sorry for being- I don’t usually- Thank you for-“ Bucky pressed his lips to hers cutting her off, the only way he knew how to say thanks for pulling him out of his head and reminding him of what it felt like to be a regular guy with an honest woman after so long. But he pulled back in a flash, searching her eyes for any hesitation, already worried he had been too forward. She used her hand on his jaw to guide him back down to her mouth and tested her tongue against his bottom lip. Bucky immediately parted his lips to allow the boundary to be broken as he pushed her back to her front door. As they pulled away in need of air, he growled in a low voice “Goodnight doll”, worried he couldn’t control the overwhelming lust and thought it best he peel himself away sooner rather than later.

She reached overhead to slip the card out from the ledge above the door (her terrible hiding place) and slid it over the key pad without breaking eye contact with Bucky for a second, “Would you um.. like to come in?”. He pushed the handle of the door open, so she didn’t have to turn, but stepped back just a fraction to rub his jaw slightly, to ground himself and let her enter first. He took a few tentative steps inside looking around briefly to see a few conservative dresses on the back of a chair - the failed options for that evening’s affair, and a few bits of makeup splayed across a small ivory vanity. His eyes landed back on Y/N who had raised her leg on the side of the bed to examine her sore ankle, her leg shamelessly on display through the slit. He immediately moved to the space between her legs, his left hand dragging up the exposed leg and his head bent down a little to push his lips on hers again. She raised her leg a little higher accepting Bucky’s touch and to her surprise he began to lift her. Wrapping her other leg around his waist, her arms snaked around his neck and their kiss deepened with his large hands holding her thighs, both swallowing each other’s moans and letting their mouths do all the work. Bucky had never kissed or been kissed like that. Not even in the 40’s. It was the kind of kiss that was needed when words didn’t exist to convey the magnetizing pull they had on each other.

Pulling their lips away to breathe they both caught each other’s eyes as Bucky lowered her to the bed. Nothing but hunger consumed them both, craving an intimacy they never knew was possible. Bucky took his time, the need for her to feel loved and safe superseding any of his animalistic desires. Trailing light passionate kisses all over her body getting lower and lower. She felt every kiss lighting her on fire. Growing wetter with each second, she reached her hand down to feel the long locks of his hair and arched her back as he kissed her clothed heat over her underwear. Immediately looking up to see if she hesitated in any way, he was met with her lustful but sincere smile. When he slipped off her underwear and began to work Y/N into a frenzy, he carefully slid his fingers in and began to move and curl them upwards like stroking a feather. She couldn’t help but let out a moan of such pleasure that Bucky had to remind himself to breathe for fear of combustion. Y/N leaned up to pull Bucky back to her lips by his jaw and began unbuttoning his shirt as his knees climbed either side of her legs. He yanked off his tie as she slipped off his blazer and unzipped his pants. With each kiss getting sloppier and deeper, he lowered her down again using his knee to part her legs and press himself against her as her hands splayed over his broad upper back. Y/N ripped open the foil she grabbed from her bedside drawer and began to roll a condom down his rock hard length. He looked up to her flushed face, the bleeding eyeliner making her brown eyes pop out even more with pupils so dilated he felt himself drowning. Consumed by Bucky’s darkened features, she couldn’t help but gasp as he eased into her. Immediately cupping her jaw he asked, “Is this okay?”. She kissed him in reply, with such fervour to make him feel how safe she felt, that the pair couldn’t help but roll their hips to meet each others setting a rhythm that felt like waves crashing against a shore. “Bucky I- “she moaned breathlessly as she arrived at the edge. “Let go, doll” he growled out as he felt her release around him and him the same. Coming down from their highs Bucky leaned over to her side feeling a satisfying exhaustion taking off the condom and tossing it in the trash can near the bed. He turned to look at her face, studying her side profile as her chest was still heaving and she swallowed hard. She met his eyes when she turned to face him and immediately a grin spread across her face not quite believing what had just occurred and how good he had made her feel. She let out a small giggle looking away, “What is it?” Bucky asked with a similar grin forming due to her amusement. “I just, I just can’t believe- “she began. “Neither can I” he reassured her knowing what she was about to say. He raised a hand to her cheek and softly stroked stray hairs away from her eyes, and in exhaustion they fluttered closed and she was asleep in minutes, the stress of the day melting away. He fell asleep too but woke after an hour, he looked at her bedside clock reading 4am. He scrubbed a hand over his face and got up as to not disturb the beauty lying next to him. He pulled the covers over her exposed shoulders as she nestled herself slightly more into the pillow and he swore he saw the corners of her mouth curl upwards slightly when he ghosted his lips over her forehead. He grabbed his blazer and shirt and padded softly out of her room. Worst case scenario he couldn’t risk her having to witness what his nightmares did to him but mostly couldn’t shake the doubt he had as to whether she would’ve wanted him around when she woke.

Chapter 2

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