#sam is SUCH a good cap i love this for him so much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

godmadeaterribleerror · 3 months ago

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Louder Than Fear

Main Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Bucky Barnes/Female Reader, smut (p in v, oral both receiving), light angst, sex pollen, no use of y/n

Summary/Warnings: Missions involving Hydra often go very wrong. This is different. This is worse. This is a strange bioweapon, nobody telling you exactly what's wrong, and staring at the ceiling as Bucky roars you name. It's echoing in your brain. And you love him.

So you have to fix this.

Author's Note: Sudden rush of Bucky content is doing nothing but feeding my preexisting addiction. Enjoy the result of that!

Word Count: 8.5k

It’s not technically babysitting duty. On paper it’s called monitoring and mediating. Ensuring agents do not get off track or engage in unprofessional actives.

On paper, you were supposed to be waiting in the car. But then Sam had started whining about being put on surveillance duty like he was a five-year-old, and you’d ended up walking them through the forest so he’d have company. Then Steve had pointed out that you’d be best at actually finding the target, and you’d ended up fifty feet underground in a Hydra bunker.

And he’d been right, you would be, but that wasn’t supposed to be your job.

You were supposed to be waiting in the car, monitoring and mediating.

If they’d just let you wait in the car, everything might have been fine. Bucky wouldn’t be strapped to the jet seat with his eyes squeezed tight, Steve wouldn’t be standing between you for reasons you don’t really understand, and Sam wouldn’t be on strict say one word and get stabbed orders.

You shouldn’t have gone into the bunker.

You shouldn’t have gotten distracted in the bunker.

“I just don’t see how this is a useful conversation-“

“You don’t need to see how it’s useful, Cap, you just need to accept that when it comes to pop culture, I’m always gonna be right-“

“But you’re starting from an advantage, it’s not a level playing field-“

Sam had laughed in your ear, and the sound was a little scratchy and static. “This isn’t a war, there doesn’t need to be a level playing field-“

“Well, once Bucky and I catch up on 21st century media-“

“Bucky isn’t catching up on shit, isn’t that right buddy-“

Steve had stopped in the middle of the hallway, and you’d almost slammed right into his back, stopped only by an impossibly strong, cool arm had wrapping around your waist and pulling you back right before the collision.

You’d leaned back to see Bucky still scanning around the dark hallway as he supported your body, he’d smelled so good, and it had been an effort to focus on Sam and Steve’s conversation.

“That’s rude, Sam-“

“I’m not insulting him.” You’d been able to picture the shit-eating grin on Sam’s face. “I’m just pointing out that the last time we tried to watch a movie, Bucky got mad at the CGI-“

“It was stupid.” Bucky had muttered, frowning at the air around him “Movies didn’t need to be doing so much.”

You’d mouthed along to his words—you’ve heard them before, and you’ll likely hear them again—and when you’d caught his eye, you’d thrown him a winning smile that just made him roll his eyes.

He’d still been holding onto you, even though you’d long regained your balance.

You were almost certain you’d seen his mouth twitch slightly in the dark.

“Then we’ll find some other movies, Buck, and-”

Steve had turned around to raise his brows at Bucky, but ended up doing a slight double take at the sight of you. Pressed tight to Bucky’s chest, his arm around your stomach, your eyes wide on Steve’s, and Bucky continuing to monitor the incredibly empty hall.

“I- uh-“ You’d been pretty sure Steve was blushing, and he’d definitely been stumbling over his words. “I can- I’m just gonna turn around-“

“Why?” Sam’s voice had been a little too loud and eager in your ear. “What’s going on? Are they making-“

“I fell.” You’d mumbled, your voice a little frantic. “And Bucky-“

“What did he do? Did he sweep you off your feet-“

“Shut up, Wilson.” Bucky still hadn’t been paying full attention. He still hadn’t let go. “Focus on the mission-“

You could picture Sam’s shrug. “Mission is boring. How exciting, Hydra’s taking up gardening-“

You’d frowned into the air. “It’s not gardening, Sam-“

“Right, sorry,” Sam had said your name, his voice at least a little apologetic. “Didn’t mean to shit on your thing-“

“Yeah, that’s not what I’m worried about.” You’d sighed, leaning your head a little back. You’d almost been resting it on Bucky’s shoulder.

He hadn’t pushed you away.

“Did you read Stark’s mission briefing-“

“No.” Sam had cut you off, and he’d sounded appalled you’d even suggest that. “It’s mostly just Tony kissing his own ass, and you and Golden Boy down there always go cover to cover, so why should I-”

You sigh. “Because then you’d know why it’s not just gardening, dumbass-“

Sam had gasped, and it had been one of the most dramatic ones you’d even heard. “That’s not very nice-“

“Shut up.” You’d raised your brows at Steve, who had been mostly trying to not look you or Bucky directly in the eyes. “Steve, tell bird-boy why it’s not just gardening.”

He’d nodded, staring very pointedly at a spot on the wall. “It’s, uh, they tried to make a bioweapon. With plants.”

“All I’m hearing is gardening-“

“Sam Wilson.” You’d snapped, and that had shut him up. You’d used what Stark called your Mom voice—where you stopped shouting and made your tone firm—and even Bucky had tensed behind you. “Stop acting like a middle schooler, or I’ll make you write a book report about the next briefing. Got it?”

Sam had sighed in your ear, mumbled an agreement, and Steve had shot you a nervous grin before he started shuffling back down the hall.

You’d had to poke Bucky’s face to get his attention, nodding to his arm around your body to get him to release you.

Once he had, you’d just kept walking, because you never allow yourself to think about those odd but frequent moments. The ones where Bucky touches you a little longer than needed, or did something protective that he’d probably do for anyone on a mission, but still made your head feel fuzzy and your gut a little warm.

The rest of the mission had run smoothly. Sam had shut up, and Steve had gotten distracted from the whole Bucky holding you like a doll thing by a few well-timed questions about how he’s doing on his self-inflicted music catch up mission, and you’d taken every single moment Bucky interacted with you and locked them deep in your chest.

You’d gotten good at that. You were a dragon hoarding gold, only the dragon was your dumb little heart, and the gold was Bucky’s attention.

He’d opened at door for you. He’d stayed on pace behind you like a very stoic, grumpy guard dog. He’d pulled you back by the collar of your shirt before you could walk right into a trap, and you’d ended up half off the ground, in his arms, and repeating to yourself it means nothing.

This means nothing.

To Bucky, this means nothing.

Then he’d spoken to you, and you’d almost tripped over your own rapid and electrified heartbeat.

“I read it.” He’d muttered in your ear, and you’d blinked up at him with a frown.

“What?”

He’d been looking at you. His eyes are an always little more than on yours, because whenever Bucky looks at you it’s feels like something’s branding on your spine. Sending tiny little sparking shockwaves through your body, making you stand a little taller and blink a little less, because it seems your body simply refuses to miss a single moment him.

“I read the mission report.” He’d grunted. It had sounded incredibly important for you to know. “I always do.”

“Oh. Good.”

And he’d looked really handsome. His mission suit fit him too well. His metal hand kept flexing, and it was making your breathing a little short. He’d been bullied into a haircut a few months ago, but most of it had regrown, and it framed his face so distractingly well.

And that had been the mistake.

You’d gotten really distracted. Even after you’d kept walking, Bucky’s voice just bounced and echoed around in your head, and when you’d found the bioweapon—it was just a big flower, but Sam never needed to know that—you’d been too slow to react.

The spurt of pollen had been aimed at you.

Bucky had jumped in front of you because he was a dumbass.

And now, you were here.

The moment Bucky had been sprayed in the face—you’ve strictly forbidden Sam from called it being hit with plant jizz—his whole body had tensed, his eyes had dilated, and he’d… taken off his arm. Let it clatter to the floor as his breathing became labored, and his eyes locked onto yours.

You and Steve had stared at him, you’d opened your mouth to ask if he was okay, and he’d raised his hand as if he could physically block the sound of your voice.

“Steve.” His words had been pushed through his teeth, so strained and weighted that it had ached a little in your chest. “Get her out.”

Steve had just frowned at him. “Bucky, what’s-“

“Out.” He’d hissed, and Steve—the loyal fuck—had listened.

You’d been carried back to the jet by Sam, Steve had gone back to get Bucky, and you’d had plenty of time to try and work out what the fuck had just happened.

It was a bioweapon. All of you had known that, but you didn’t know what it did. Bucky could be in pain, he could be suffering, he could be dying.

He certainly isn’t okay. He’d asked to be restrained, every time you speak he flinches, and he’s refused to put his arm back on. Steve keeps trying to ask him what’s wrong, and he just shakes his head and mutters something you can’t hear. Sam tried to sit down next to you and he fucking growls.

“Jesus, Bucky, did you get turned into a dog by the plant ji-“

You slam your fist into Sam’s gut, he doubles over with a groan, and Bucky won’t stop staring at you. It’s worse than the branding feeling. That’s always just from you, and it’s always unintentional. Bucky doesn’t know that you like his pretty face and his grumpy words, that you have very vulgar and inappropriate fantasies about the metal arm, or that every time you draw a chuckle or small smile out him it makes the whole world light up.

But this is brighter than the usual attention. This is a little feral, and he doesn’t look comfortable. Usually when he looks at you his body relaxes slightly, and you take that and bury it in your collection. Right now his stare seems to be carving right into your ribs and wrapping around your skin, like he’s trying to pull you apart with just his eyes. His breathing is ragged and loud, his nostrils keep flaring, and he’s leaning forward in his restraints.

And Steve’s a big guy, but not big enough that Bucky can’t lean around him to keep watching you.

Then his eyes start to droop, and you can see sweat stains all over his suit. He’s still looking at you.

He’s flushed and pale all at once, and he lets out a high, almost whining sound of pain-

“Sam.” You whisper, afraid to look away from Bucky for even a second. “Can you please-“

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam presses his hand to Bucky’s brow, his eyes widen slightly, and you feel a little sick.

“Shit, uh, Steve-“

Steve moves without question, and his reaction is an almost twin look of worry.

“Goddamnit.” He looks back to you, saying your name cautiously. “It’s- he’s burning.”

“FRIDAY,” you mumble, because maybe they’re both wrong. Maybe the jet is warm. “Can you please check Bucky’s temperature?”

“Sargent Barnes has a fever of one-hundred and four point six degrees. Would you like me to alert the Compound to prepare for medical response?”

You swallow, your hand curling into a fist to stop it from reaching out and touching him. He’s got firm lines on his brow and you’d like to trace them. Sooth them out.

“Send his vitals to Bruce and Tony too.”

Steve takes over for you, and you’ll have to thank him later, when your heart isn’t pounding and banging in your ribs, and Bucky doesn’t look like he’s trying to fly out of his skin.

You don’t know why he jumped in front of you. You would’ve been fine. Whatever’s affecting him wouldn’t affect you. And he should’ve known that.

“Why does Stark call you Mother Earth?” He’d asked you once, suddenly a few feet behind you in the kitchen, and you’d blinked at him.

He’d only just moved into the compound. His hair was still a little greasy—he hadn’t been introduced to the wonders of coconut oil and conditioner yet—and there was still a weary, haunted expression on his face almost every waking second. He didn’t talk to anyone but Steve because it was Steve, his government mandated therapist because he had to, and Sam and Peter because they didn’t know how to not talk.

But there he was.

Talking to you.

“Because I have plant powers.” You’d shrugged, turning back to the stove. “And Tony’s convinced he’s a comedic genius.”

Bucky had moved to lean against the counter, and he’d still been watching you. It was the first time you’d gotten that warm, bright feeling up your spine. “What do plant powers do.”

“The technical term Bruce uses is chlorokinesis.” You’d started to fish through the cabinets for a mug, keeping your voice calm and even. “I can control and manipulate botanical life. But I’m also invulnerable. To physical injury and allergies, because I’m basically half-plant myself, so I can like, regrow or whatever. I mean, plant powers is pretty fucking self-explanatory-“

You’d paused, glancing at Bucky with an apologetic expression.

“Sorry.” You’d mumbled. “That was mean.”

He’d given you an odd look, and for a second you’d thought he would leave. Push off the counter and walk away, never sparing a glance in your direction again.

But he’d just stared at you with that unreadable expression. And when he’d finally spoken, his words weren’t clipped or rough. They’d sounded almost easy. Calm.

“Do you need help?”

You’d swallowed, your hand still reaching half over your head. “What?”

“You look like you’re having trouble.” He’d nodded to your outstretched arm, frozen in the cabinet. “I can help.”

You’d nodded, he’d closed the space in one second, and his body had been warm. Almost radiating heat, setting your skin on fire when just his fingers brushed yours. He’d handed you the mug with an expression on his face that was almost a grin, you’d smiled back, and that had been it.

You’d been gone.

You’d barely even stood a chance.

Your heart had passed itself into Bucky’s hands, and he’d held it so carefully without ever knowing. He stayed near you and fed your hunger for him all the fucking time. He literally fed you, because the thing that seemed to fascinate him the most about modern times was the food—to the point that Tony put a weekly cap on his DoorDash account—and whenever he knew you were at the compound, he’d make you eat with him.

And Sam had been right. Bucky did have an odd, amusing determination to remain entirely an old man, but it was also adorable and charming in a way Sam simply did not know how to appreciate. You’d learned that—to make Bucky consume any remotely modern media—you just had to let him show you something in trade. You’d listened to a lot of Bing Crosby and Duke Ellington just to make Bucky experience one Beyonce song.

His eyes had been so wide the entire time you’d been worried they’d pop out of his head.

You’d caught him listening to it again almost two weeks later, mumbling along to the lyrics in a way that was more sound than word.

And you’d fallen a little further. Over and over in small moments like that one, stronger and stronger as Bucky’s smile turned from a grimacing, almost mechanical movement as he relearned how his face worked, into a broad, almost goofy expression that he seemed to reserve for the people that sat with him in silence when he needed it, and smiled at him without expecting one in return.

The list was short. Limited to you and Steve, as well as Sam under very dire circumstances.

You’d never allowed yourself to read too far into that.

But it was hard not to now.

Because Bucky wasn’t looking at anyone but you. Whenever his eyes flutter in his sleep, or he wakes up with a low moan, his gaze locks onto your open expression of worry. He keeps groaning something that sounds like your name in his sleep.

You want to help him.

He curls away from you with almost a snarl every time you try to even get out of your seat.

And you’re so confused.

Steve mutters your name when the jet lands, and he’s not looking away from Bucky as he speaks. “Don’t get out of your seat until we get Bucky sedated.”

You nod nervously, right up until the word sedated catches up with your brain.

“Wait, don’t-“

“We have to.” Steve’s voice is firm. Low and unwavering. “I’ll explain later. Stay in your seat.”

He’s not asking. That’s an order.

And it only takes a few moments for you to realize why.

Bucky fights. The medic team wakes him up as they try to move him out of the jet, and he fights like an animal. This isn’t his usual, controlled and calculated movements. This is wild, with roars and noises that are almost primal ripping out of his chest.

He doesn’t stop looking at you, or saying your name, and the noise is almost pleading.

You have to cover your ears. If you heard any more you would’ve damned it and helped him, and you have a feeling it would’ve made everything worse.

It takes Steve, Sam, the whole med team, and a very concerned Natasha to get him down.

And you’re alone in the jet. Left to wander your way back to your room, your hands shaking slightly and your head spinning.

He would’ve been fine. If you’d just stayed in the car, or you’d been fucking paying attention and had moved faster—dodging the spray yourself or making sure it hit you instead of Bucky—everything would’ve been fine.

Nobody tells you what’s happening. You lay on flat the bed, stare up at the ceiling, and your brain begins to feel a little foggy.

You can still see him staring at you. The sight is almost seared onto your vision, and everything seems to be lined with blue wherever you look. He’d been in pain. This building has the most advanced medical technology in America, and these people have access to all the best doctors in the world, but as far as you know he’s still hurting. Still screaming and thrashing, still burning up and probably all alone, because this is the exact type of thing that can’t happen to him.

Fuck. This can’t happen to Bucky. If it was Steve they’d be worried, but he’d be treated with more care. No brutal slamming of his body against the jet wall, no sedative specifically tailored to make him go down. If it was Sam there wouldn’t need to be as many resources exerted to get him down. Bucky would’ve just punched him in the face with no shortage of glee in his expression, and everyone would be fine.

But Bucky’s going to have to get mental clearance. That wasn’t the Soldier, but they’ll be worried it was. You’d still seen Bucky behind his eyes—simply a panicked and desperate version of him—but no one’s going to see that but you. Even Steve will elect to be safe rather than sorry.

You’d fucked it up for him. He’d been doing so well, and you’d fucked it up with your dumb, distracting infatuation. And you don’t even know if he’s still in pain.

“FRIDAY?” Your voice is soft, barely audible even in the silence, but the AI hears you anyway.

“How can I help you, Mother Earth?”

You’re going to need to stab Tony later. Right now you have bigger worries.

“Is Bucky okay?”

“I’m sorry, agent,” FRIDAY says your last name, and her voice doesn’t sound very sorry. “I have been blocked from sharing any information about Sargent Barnes with you indefinitely.”

You sit up on the bed, glaring around the room. “I’m- what? Why would- what? Who blocked me?”

“The order was issued by Agent Romanov.”

“Can you please unblock me?”

“Unfortunately not. Your admin privileges have been removed from my system until further notice.”

You gape at the ceiling. “Who did that?”

“Dr. Banner put in the request, and it was approved by Mr. Stark. You are also under strict orders not to leave your quarters. I have an audio recording from Mr. Stark for you that can be played upon request. Would you-“

“Play it.” You snap, then flinch at your own harsh tone. “Sorry. Please play it.”

“Hey, Mom.” Tony’s voice fills the room, the usual light apathy in his voice filled with something heavier. Almost tired. You almost forget to be mad about him calling you mom. “Before you get all pissed and turn my house into the Amazon, we didn’t want to do this. Tall, dark, and murdery keeps saying your name, and until we work out what’s wrong with him I’m not comfortable having you wander around. Sorry.”

The audio clicks off, and Tony’s getting stabbed twice now.

“FRIDAY,” you chose your words carefully, keeping your tone even and natural. “Can you please tell me who’s near residential room sixty-seven?”

“Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark are standing the hall, Dr. Banner recently entered the room, and Agent Romanov just left the wing.”

“Can you patch me to Natasha, please?”

“I am alerting the agent of your request now.”

It takes a long, painful second, but Natasha picks up. You barely wait for the static hum of the call to fill the room before you’re talking, staring at the corner of your room where you know Tony keeps the camera.

“What’s wrong with him.”

Natasha sighs over the speaker. “I can’t tell you that,” she says your name in a worryingly gentle voice, and your hands curl back into fists. “You know I can’t.”

“I’m not-“ You swallow, holding your gaze on the camera. “Please. Just tell me what’s going on-“

“We’re going to fix it. Tony and Steve are looking at options-“

“Options for what?” Your voice is pleading. You don’t care. “Nat, I’m can’t- I’m really worried-“

“I know you are.” Her voice is still gentle. You can taste bile in your throat. “Which is why we can’t tell you. I’m-“

“Don’t say sorry.” You snap. “Just, just tell me he’s okay. Please.”

There’s a long silence. It’s an answer enough, and it sinks too deep into your skin.

Natasha’s a good liar.

Why can’t she just lie.

“He will be okay.” Her tone is cautious, and you can picture her frown. “We’ll make sure he’s okay.”

“Can I help?” You whisper. “With anything? Please?”

She’s silent again. You’re going to throw up.

“Nat-“

“I’ll call you back.”

The line goes dead, and that time, she’d lied. She doesn’t call you back. Time drags on and comes to odd, stuttering halts as you sit in the silence, and when you finally clear your throat and sit up once more, it’s dark outside.

“FRIDAY, can you please give me the feed of the hallway outside residential room sixty-seven?”

The AI doesn’t bother to answer you, silently patching you through.

You don’t think she’s really supposed to. But she seems to like that you say please.

Natasha, Steve, and Bruce are huddled outside of Bucky’s room, their voices low, but not enough for FRIDAY not to pick up the audio.

“He’s not getting any better.” Bruce mutters, his head turned down. You can see him fidgeting with his glasses, and you can picture the frown on his face. “And I am beginning to worry. There’s just- there’s nothing else I can do.”

Steve shakes his head, and the panic in his voice sounds a lot like the wired, tense little bubbles rising in your throat. “But- Bruce there’s got to be another option, we work in a miracle factory-“

“And I’m afraid I’m out of them, Cap. I’m sorry, it’s- it’s the only option.” Bruce sighs. “Hydra was very thorough.”

There’s a long moment of silence you can’t understand, the hum of the audio clashing horribly with the ringing in your ears, and then-

“He won’t take anyone else?” Natasha sounds desperate. It’s louder than an alarm echoing through the compound. “What about- Have we tried the pocket pussy?”

“He broke it.” Steve mutters, his face red, and a lot of things click into place at once.

The heavy breathing, and tension in his body, and animalistic sounds and behaviors. The dilated eyes, and restraints, and intense gaze.

Lustful gaze.

Oh.

Fuck.

“And Bucky’s been very clear with us that he refuses to do… that with anyone but her.” Steve’s still talking. The room around you is a little hazy. “Tony even offered to hire someone, and he said he’d rather uh, castrate himself.”

Natasha lets out a slow breath, her words slow and careful. “She’d say yes-“

“I know she would, Nat, that’s not my worry.” Steve shakes his head, frowning at the door. “She’d say yes to help him, and he’d- It would break him. If that was it.”

“And I’m trying to get it into your skull, Rogers, that wouldn’t be it-“

“You don’t know that-“

Natasha lets out a dry laugh. “I’m pretty sure I do. You’d have to be blind not to see it-“

“I’m not blind, I just don’t want Bucky to get hurt-“

“He wouldn’t get hurt, that’s what I’m saying-“

“And when he does? We can’t kick either of them out, and he- You don’t know how serious it is for him, Nat.” Steve sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “He called it a love a first sight thing.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “That probably makes two of them.”

And Natasha says your name. Everything slows, but not like in a movie. More like being underwater, where it’s just a little harder to see and hear, and you’re pushing against something that all around you, and it’s cool and easy but you’re drowning-

Then you breach the surface.

And the world becomes too fast around you as Natasha just keeps talking.

“She was begging me to help, Steve. She wouldn’t regret it-“

“And Barnes is running out time.” Bruce jumps in, giving Natasha an apologetic look. “I don’t believe he’ll allow another, no matter what levels or heights his desperation reaches, especially if he’s as… infatuated as you say.”

“He is.” Steve mumbles. “It’s… Geez, Bruce, he’s like a lost puppy.”

“So let’s go get his owner.” Natasha gives Steve a pointed look, and you swallow. “She at least deserves a choice.”

You.

You deserve the choice.

The feed drops black, and you’re going to get a choice.

It’s barely a choice. It’s more of an instinct. Steve and Bruce shuffle into your room with nervous smiles, explain the situation—you don’t want to give away that you’d been spying, it would likely just make things more complicated—and the words are Bucky’ll only, well, he’s refusing anyone but you are barely out of Steve’s mouth before you nod.

You say yes. And Steve stares at you, opening his mouth to say something he seems to think better of, and you hold is gaze.

You mean it.

And no amount of shock over the situation, no amount of stunning revelations or Tony’s worrying about you coming out, no pun intended, right side up will make you not mean it.

They give you an escape plan.

You won’t use it.

Bucky’s entirely naked when you walk into his room. Pulling a blanket over his lap before your eyes can wander further down from his darkened, painfully handsome face and broad chest. He’s sitting tall and rigid on the edge of his mattress, almost tracking your every movement as you walk through the door, jaw ticking when it closes behind you.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” He mutters. “I told Steve I’d be alright-“

“Steve told me you’re in love with me,” you blurt, and Bucky stares at you.

You hadn’t meant to just say it. You’d been planning a large build up, where he’d accuse you of pitying him and you’d say I don’t pity you, I love you, and I know you love me too.

But his first few words had been barely a rasp. He was flushed all over his body, his breathing was somehow far too deep and shallow all at once, and you can see the muscles twitching in his body. He seems to be forcing himself to barely even shift on the bed, and the mattress is creaking under the weight of his metal arm.

He put the metal arm back on.

Based on how the sheets are stained and the blanket over his lap has shifted, you have a good idea why.

Your knees are a little weak from just the sight of him.

And it’s no longer just Bucky who needs the whole we’re both idiots, because I love you conversation out of the way quick.

“Steve fucking told you-“

“He didn’t know he was telling me.” Your voice is quick, your eyes widening slightly as you cut off Bucky’s growl. “I may have been, um, spying.”

Bucky scans you over slowly, and his mouth does the small curve that means he’s dangerously close to a real smile. “Spying doesn’t really sound like you,” he says your name, and where it would normally be a drawl it’s a growl. Your legs are going to give out. “Hydra blast you with something too?”

“I’m branching out.” You mumble, playing with the fabric of your shirt and forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “Are you? In love with me?”

Bucky’s nostrils flare, and he’s watching you like he thinks you’ll disappear. Like he’s certain you’re a trick or lie or something sent to hurt him, but he’d really like you to be real.

You’d like to be real. For Bucky, you’d like to be almost anything.

And he nods, and you’re lucky the adrenaline and fear for Bucky’s health are outweighing how your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

“How-“ You have to clear your throat, your voice weaker than you’d like. “How long?”

He suddenly won’t meet your eyes. “You gave me flowers.”

You blink at him. “Bucky, I don’t-“

“Steve was introducing me to everyone.” He mutters, bowing his head. “I don’t even know where you came from, but we turned a corner and you were just… there. Like you’d formed out of thin air or something. We startled you, and you screamed. Really loud.” You think your skin might be burning up, but Bucky’s voice has a soft sort of fondness to it that keeps you from exploding on the spot. “You were really pissed, yelling at Steve about how he should know better, and your hands were full. You handed me your flowers, and you shoved Steve. He didn’t budge, and that just made you angrier. Another flower grew out of the wall. You gave me that one too.”

“Oh.” You whisper, and Bucky just nods. “And you- when did you-“

“The moment you screamed.” He frowns at himself, shaking his head. “Not because of the scream, it was a- You weren’t afraid. You screamed but you were mostly just angry, and you gave me flowers. Helped that you were beautiful.”

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“I-“ You swallow. “I thought you didn’t remember that. You asked me what my powers were-“

Bucky’s flush deepens. “Just wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh.” You swallow, titling your head at him. “And- When you jumped in front of me-“

“Instinct.” He’s glaring at the floor like it’s personally responsible for this whole situation. “Didn’t think. Saw you were going to be hit. Jumped.”

His words are starting to become more and more clipped and strained, as if your very presence is bending him to a snapping point.

“That wasn’t very smart, Barnes.”

“I know.” He mumbles, shoulder dropping like he’s trying to cave in on his own body, and you sigh.

“But I get it. And I- I just don’t want- I need you, Bucky. Don’t do that again.“

He nods, you don’t think he actually heard you, and you need him to look at you.

When you take a careful step forward, he glances up, but it’s weary.

“You grabbed my mug.” You whisper, giving him plenty of time to stop you before you’re standing between his legs. He doesn’t, and you take his face in your hands, your smile widening as he stares at you. “It felt like I- I could’ve died, Bucky. It was… Very big.”

It’s a strange thing to say, but there’s no other way to describe the true mass and power of how fast your love for Bucky had hit you, how quick it had sunken into your bones and mixed with your blood, and how fast your entire body had been rewritten with that knowledge as code. You love Bucky.

It’s just as natural as you need to breathe air.

He seems to understand, because he nods slowly, but it quickly turns into shakes of his head, limited between your hands.

“You don’t have to do this-“

“I don’t.” You shrug, holding his gaze. “But I’m going to. Because I love you.”

He grunts, his body almost vibrating under your touch, a visible spasm wracking his body at the words. “I- Not like this.” His words are barely audible, pushed through his teeth. “It shouldn’t be like this.”

“Bucky-“

“No. I’m not- I could hurt you. I’m not going to fucking hurt you.”

You sigh. “You can’t hurt me-“

He lets out a dry laugh. “As romantic as that is, doll, I very much can hurt you-“

“No. You literally cannot hurt me.” You raise your brows at him, your voice flat. “I’m invulnerable.”

He blinks at you, and somehow goes redder. “Oh. Right. That- I forgot.”

You giggle, running your fingers through his hair and he scowls.

“There are million assholes with a million powers, how the hell am I supposed to keep track-“

“I’m not laughing at you, Buck. You’re cute.” You smile at him, and all the tight annoyance vanishes from him expression in a single second. He’s staring at you again.

And no one’s ever looked at you like that. Like you’re maybe brighter and more critical than the sun, and you’re pulling them in stronger than the moon and the tides.

But he’s still shaking under your touch. And fuck, up close you feel even weaker. You can see every flex of his muscles, every bit of desire in his blown-out eyes and expression, the way he’s poking through the sheets over his lap and how there’s already a dark spot of pre-cum forming a stain-

You cough, your head already going a little hazy. “I want to help, Bucky. I really do, and you won’t hurt me, but if you really don’t want it, I’ll go-“

You’re falling forwards before you know what’s happening. And any yelps or squeaks of surprise are swallowed as Bucky slams his mouth into yours, and everything else in the world fades to humming color.

Everything becomes second to this.

To Bucky.

He mostly tastes like salt from the sweat dripping down his body, but under that is a heavy, strong thing that might just be him. His tongue shoved down your throat and his hands gripping your hips like a lifeline, every low and feral grunt that rumbles through his chest making you moan down into his mouth.

Nothing about this is controlled or careful. It’s teeth and spit and brutal want, bubbling up and bursting over as he nips at your lower lip and you start to grind down against him, his touch starting to wander and squeeze at the skin of your back and ass and thighs, the touch of his metal hand soothing as you scratch at his shoulder, the heat of your bodies feeling strong enough to start a small fire. Bucky’s whole arm wraps around your waist, pinning you to his chest, and when your hands fist in his hair his hips jerk up, the bump of his cock against your core making you almost melt into his body.

He’s throbbing. With the barrier of the sheets gone you can feel every inch of him wedged between your legs, and God, he’s so hard you’d think he was just a stick if you couldn’t feel every jump and twitch of his cock against your clothed thighs.

“Bucky-“ You force yourself to pull back, keep your brow pressed to his as your hips continue to roll against him. “We- Fuck, I-“

Words are a little too far away, and it doesn’t help that he won’t stop kissing you. He’s in pain and you need to fix it, but he also keeps sucking and licking over your jaw and cheeks, he’s dropping down to just bury his face in your throat, and this isn’t about you but fuck, that feels good-

You give up on words. You’ve spoken enough for now, and right now you just need to-

Bucky grunts your name as you push him off of your neck, squirming back until you’re falling to your knees before him.

“What’re you-“

You trace one hand up his thigh, trying not to spend too much time marveling at his dick. You’ve dreamed of this moment, devoted whole long and boring meetings and sleep cycles to it, and it’s still better than you’d imagined.

He’s perfect. Not big enough that you’re worried for your health, but enough that you might need to be carried around tomorrow. And he’s thick, and firm in your hand, and when you swipe your thumb over the weeping head of him, Bucky makes a sound that settles right between your legs-

“You don’t-“ He groans as you pump him once, twice, squeezing at the base of his cock and rubbing his thigh with your free hand. “Jesus, this- you’re not playing fair, doll-“

You smile up at him, and you’ve really never seen anything better than Bucky’s wrecked and desperate expression, his hair sticking to his brow and his jaw clenched so tight you’re shocked he’s able to speak.

“I think you’ll live,” you whisper, letting your hand drift down to cup his balls. “And I want to.”

Something like wonder glows behind Bucky’s eyes as he hisses your name, and the sound quickly turns to the loudest, most primal sound you’ve ever heard as you take him in your mouth in one movement.

You set a quick and even pace, bobbing up and down his cock until he’s bumping the back of your throat before pulling almost all the way off and licking a long stripe along the underside. It only takes a moment for Bucky’s hand to shoot in your hair, not guiding your movements but almost trying to keep you steady around him, his grip tightening every time you squeeze and play with his balls, his movements still painfully controlled against you.

He needs not to hold back. You don’t want him to hold back.

You reach back to hold his hand on your head—it’s the right one, and you make a comfortable bet that it’s on purpose—tangling your own fingers in his, and you start to move. Properly fucking your own face against him, squeezing his hand in silent encouragement whenever you almost choke on him, grinding your hips near his calf in silent encouragement.

Bucky moans you name when you swallow against the tip of his cock, and it’s a final warning.

You moan around him, and that’s it.

He starts to slam up into you, and you have to grab his knee to keep balance, tracing small circles with your thumb to let him know you’re okay.

You’re more than okay. Every sound Bucky makes is slurred and unintelligible, but you can get the idea. It’s odd combination of your name and praise, all sparking further heat in your gut as Bucky grows sloppy, his cock jumping and twitching in your throat.

He roars your name as he cums down your throat, and you need to hear that sound again. It spurs on your desperate grinding—half against the air, your clit bumping against Bucky’s leg if you get the right movement—and you barely manage to swallow all of his release before he’s pulling you off his cock and hauling you back up like you weigh nothing.

The kiss he moves you into—your body curled back on his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist—is a little softer than before, and you think you managed to take just a slightly edge off his problem. It’s still devouring and deep and filled with so much passion you might cum just from the feeling of Bucky’s tongue tracing over your lips and teeth and throat, but it’s slower.

“So fucking good, doll.“ His voice is a growl down your throat, and you wiggle in his hold, every bit of your own need suddenly slams into your body. “God- Don’t know how I got you, but I’m never- Wanna keep you-“

You nod, not really registering anything but Bucky saying your name and a warm feeling of good. Bucky and good, that’s burning and rolling around in your chest and stomach.

“You like that?” Bucky squeezes at your ass, and you whimper. “I’m gonna take care of you, sweet girl, make you feel just as good as I felt, seeing those gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock-“

You’re not sure how he’s capable of speech right now, but he’s talking and it’s ignite every fiber of your body, and you can only barely shake your head, pulling at his hair as you try to drag yourself together, because this isn’t about you-

The sound that leaves you when Bucky flips you over—pinning you between his body and the mattress—isn’t dignified or coherent, but you don’t really care. Not as his knee moves between your legs and your clothing gets ripped off of your skin in effective and feral movements, leaving you a puddle of need and loud moans beneath Bucky’s touch.

He’s hard again. You can feel him poking against your lower stomach as he kisses you into a dazed and high mess, and it must be painful but you still can’t really figure out how words work. How to say anything that isn’t a loud moan of Bucky.

You try to squirm, to off him at least a little friction because this is supposed to be about him, but his metal hand traps your hips, halting your every movement as he hauls himself up.

He’s just staring at you. You’re drooling a little, your chest heaving as you try to get in a breath, and your hands are still tangled in his hair for balance.

You’re lying down, but you need balance.

Because Bucky rolls his knee against your bare pussy, and your back arches off the bed with a gasp that makes his eyes flash, his dick pulsing right on your skin-

“Please-“ The word is barely audible, but it’s all you can manage. “Bucky, I- You need to-“

He nods, diving down to a long, heavy kiss and groaning as you try to grind up into him, but then he’s gone.

Not gone.

Moving down to settle between your legs, his breath hot over your cunt and his eyes wholly black as he takes in the mess between your legs.

“Wait, Buc-“ You whine as he pulls your legs further apart, the metal hand dragging two fingers between the soaked folds of your pussy. “Shit- You don’t- This is supposed to be about you-“

“This is about me.” He grunts, his right hand trailing slowly up your inner thigh, and when you crane your neck to look at him there’s almost a fascination on his face. “Said you’d feel good.”

“I do- I am good-“ Your hips fly off the mattress as he kisses right over your clit, and the metal arm moves to pin you back against the mattress. “You don’t need-“

He latches his lips over your clit, sucking and licking as his free thumb presses right over your entrance, and you choke on the air.

“Bucky- fuck-“

“Want to,” he growls, the sound humming and deep and right over your pussy, and you can’t gasp his name enough. “Hold on.”

Your hands blindly follow his order, one fisting in his hair as the other grips his metal arm, and you’re not sure how you don’t black out.

There’s something a little clumsy to his movements–decades without practice will do that—but that only seems to make it better. He’s not calculated and deliberate. You’re not a mission or a means to an end.

Bucky eats your pussy like he wants to. Like he’s been starved for it, and there’s nothing more he needs in the world. It’s not gentle but it’s attentive, he’s keeping you right on the edge—pulling his hand away and replacing it with his tongue, letting his nose bump you clit until he moves back to pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering cunt—and you can hear the bed start to squeak as his own hips rut against the mattress.

You try to moan his name, but you can’t think, so all that comes out is a high, needy whine.

He understands. His metal hand moves to tangle with yours, grounding you slightly as you hang right over the edge of release, and when his finger crook on that one, sensitive spot deep inside of you, fireworks burst in over your body as you cum with a strangled scream.

Bucky makes a deep sound against your pussy as you start to roll in his hold, and you don’t get a chance to catch your breath before he’s crashing back up to your mouth.

He moans your name against your lips, his cock pressed right against your still fluttering cunt, and you nod.

“Now,” you manage to whisper, spreading your legs widen in a silent invitation. “Bucky, need more-“

Whatever amount of control he’d had only a few minutes ago is almost completely. Bucky flips you onto your stomach without effort, hauling your ass into the air with firm but gentle hands, and slams himself into you with one movement. You gasp as he bottoms out, and he doesn’t move.

Somehow Bucky manages to still have enough of a hold over himself to give you time to adjust, even if it’s not without effort. You can hear the low grunts leaving him as he half folds himself over your body, kissing slowly up your spine and resting his brow on your shoulder, his breathing ragged and sharp as you clench around his cock.

“Fuck-“ Bucky hisses your name, shaking his head. “Can’t do that, I’m not-“ You do it again, and he moans. A real, loud moan. “You’re- fuck-“

“Please,” you wiggle your ass against him, and his hands tense on your body. “I- I’m good-“

“Yeah, you are.” His mutter is filled with low wonder, and it just makes you squeak. “You want it, babydoll?”

You moan, nodding stupidly. “Yes-“

The word is barely out of your mouth before Bucky starts to move, and you’ve never been higher. He’s in so deep, and you’re fuller than you’ve been in your life, and drunk on how big he is, how he hits every right spot and how he keeps grunting low praise and moaning your name against your skin-

You bury your face in the sheets to try and muffle your whines of desperation and Bucky’s hand catches your jaw, turning your head to capture your lips in a long, searing kiss as he hammers into you.

“Bucky-“

“Feel so good,” he mutters again your lips, thrusting with a brutal movement and groaning when you squeeze around his cock. “Jesus, you’re so good, doing so well, pretty girl, so fuckin’ close-“

The Brooklyn accent is coming out, and his words are starting to slur, and you only manage to moan down his throat in a silent plea of more.

Bucky’s pace picks up into uncontrolled and frantic movements, his skin slapping against yours as his metal arm snaked around your stomach and his fingers start to rub furious, impossibly fast circles around your clit-

Your second orgasm slams into you like a tidal wave, and the only thing in the world is the dizzying and perfect pleasure washing over your body as Bucky roars your name, something warm filling you up and dripping down your thighs with your own release.

Bucky tries to move away—pulling out and pushing off of where he’s wrapped himself around your body—but you grab his arm, keeping him splayed over you.

“Need to clean you up-“

“I’ll be okay,” you mumble, a dazed smile covering your lips as you reach back, trailing your finger through his hair. “Stay.”

He pauses, but only for a second. Then his weight is settles back over your body, and everything is alright.

Bucky’s alright. His cock in still twitching and jumping near your ass, and you think it’ll take a while to fully fuck the bioweapon out of his system, but you’re more than up to the task. For now you can just drown in his warmth, half petting his hair and humming as his lips trail over your shoulder in featherlight kisses.

“Did you mean it?”

You twist your head, a small frown on your face. “Mean-“

“The-“ He sighs, staring at you like he’s trying to pry something inside of you out. “The thing.”

“That I love you?”

Bucky’s throat bobs, and he nods.

“Of course I did.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth that takes only second to turn into Bucky rolling your onto your back, his tongue pressing on your lower lip in a silent request-

You push on his chest slightly, holding his gaze as he pulls back with a frown.

“Did you mean it?”

He looks almost offended. “Yeah, I meant it. I’ve never meant anything more-“

You tug him back down, and that can be the end of it for now. It could be the end of it forever, and you’d be happy.

You don’t need a long explanation about it. You don’t need justifications for why neither of you ever said anything, or to repeat it until you both believe it.

You already believe it. And telling Bucky won’t do anything, so you’ll just have to spend a long, long time showing him.

And as long as you have that time, with Bucky, you’ll be happy.

End Note: Love making Steve talk about pocket pussies. That's an America I want to be a part of <3

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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backtothefanfiction · 3 months ago

Text

First Impressions | Joaquin Torres

Summary: the first time Sam introduces you to Joaquin

Warnings: flirting, fluff, playful banter

A/N: I fell in love with this man during Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Completely forgot about him until I watched the new Cap the other night. So here’s this little before going to sleep drabble. As you will quickly be able to tell I love the idea of a Carol Danvers niece reader given the whole air force thing. Hope people enjoy. May write some more in the future.

Joaquin was smitten the second you walked into his house. When Sam said he was headed over with “some new recruit” he hadn’t expected you. A roughed up baseball cap on top of your head, faded baseball jersey, baggy oversized jeans and sneakers, dripping from head to toe and almost shivering.

“What happened?” Joaquin asked Sam as you tentatively stepped through the sliding door, not wanting to drip too much on this strangers carpet.

“He dropped me in the lake.” Your voice blurted out, completely unamused, shooting daggers at the still newly appointed Captain America.

“Yeah, well, still better that than a 40ft drop onto hard ground.” Sam retorted.

“Or you could have just not dropped me at all?!” You stressed, hands raised in the air, still in complete disbelief over this turn of events. “That’s the last time I’m ever flying with you.” You muttered and you saw Joaquin let out a little chuckle over the situation.

That’s when you really took him in. The guy who Sam sung the praises of. His supposedly best recruit, not that he would actually tell him that.

“Come on, I’ll get you a towel.” Joaquin said, leading you upstairs and to the bathroom.

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything I could change into, do you?” You asked him, as he handed you a couple towels.

“Umm, yeah, of course, I’ll just go find you something.”

You didn’t wait for him to return before you whipped off your clothes and immediately jumped in the shower to wash the murky lake water off of you. You were grateful that it was an old tub and shower curtain situation and not one of those see through glass cabinet shower situations, not that it didn’t stop Joaquin from blushing when he came back into the bathroom a few minutes later with some clothes in hand.

“Oh, sorry- I didn’t realise you were- I’ll just leave these- uh- yeah.” He rushed out before quickly shutting the door again.

He hesitated a moment as he stood with his back to the door, his brain fixated on the small glimpse he got of your naked back from behind the shower curtain. He could feel the flush in his cheeks. The smile that threatened his lips. He fought to hide it as he went back down to Sam in the kitchen.

“So who is she?” Joaquin asked as he grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and passed it to Sam before picking up his own previously discarded mug to finish.

“She’s a Danvers.” Sam said, as if the surname alone held a lot of weight, but Joaquin still didn’t bite. “As in Carol Danvers… Captain Marvel.” Sam said, walking him through it slowly until Joaquin’s face began to flicker with recognition. “Carol’s her aunt. Before she became Captain Marvel she was one heck of an Air Force Pilot. Kid saw what her aunt did and decided to pick up the mantle.”

“And she’s good?” Joaquin fished, a flame for the woman upstairs really taking hold as Sam kept adding more fuel to the fire.

“Yeah, she’s fucking great. Best female pilot I’ve ever seen.”

“So you looking to set her up with a pair of wings?” Joaquin asked, even though he had a hint of jealousy to his tone. He enjoyed being the only person other than Sam who had access to the now not so secret military wings, but he also couldn’t deny the new found need to go flying with you on a sunny afternoon and treat you to a picnic on the top of a mountain or something.

“We’ll see.” Sam said sceptically, but Joaquin knew from the way Sam had even brought you to meet him he thought you had what it takes.

“What are you two girls talking about?” You asked as you came striding back into the kitchen in a pair of Joaquin’s joggers and his old air force T-shirt. You were using a towel to squeeze out your hair and Joaquin couldn’t deny you looked right at home in his house, wearing his clothes.

“Lover boy here was grilling me about you.” Sam joked, taking in the way Joaquin looked at you.

“Was he now?” You asked feigning interest and playing up to the little bit in order to embarrass him, but as you sat across from him at the table and really took him in for the first time, you couldn’t deny he was handsome- and if the T-shirt he gave you had anything to say, you definitely had a lot in common to bond over.

“Uh- um- no- I-“ Joaquin began to stutter bashfully.

“It’s all cool dude,” you reassured. “I know he’s just messing. You really shouldn’t let him rile you up like that.”

Joaquin sighed before he leaned in closer to you, “How do you stay so calm around him?” He asked as if Sam wasn’t there and you had all the secrets.

“Eh, when you grew up being told about your badass aunt with actual super powers, some guy in a read white and blue bird costume is nothing.” You joked.

“Hey!” Sam pointed at you, “don’t you dare turn him against me or I’ll drop your ass in the lake again.”

“So you admit it! You did it on purpose.” You said, slamming your hand on the table animatedly.

“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. What are you gonna do about it?” He asked back, but you didn’t say anything more. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You rolled your eyes at him before fixing them on Joaquin instead as Sam’s phone began to ring. You both turned your eyes on him as he checked the caller ID. “I need to take this.” He said, before getting up and dismissing himself, stepping out the back door to take the call outside.

“Would you like coffee?” Joaquin asked to break up the silence the two of you were left in.

“Umm, yes, that would be great.” You said with a smile and he got up to pour you a cup full from the pot.

“It looks good on you.” He said as he came back over a moment later and handed you the mug.

“What, now?” You said confused.

“Uh, my shirt,” he said with a shrug, as he committed to the statement. “It looks good on you.”

You couldn’t help but blush slightly under his gaze. He was cute and confident and oddly endearing. “Thanks.” You smiled, as he sat himself back down. “I guess I’ll keep it then.” You joked.

“The only way you’re keeping that thing is if you were my girlfriend.” He replied, half as a joke, half as a way of informing you just how much that shirt meant to him.

“Well I guess you better ask me on a date then.” You smirked playfully as he took a sip of his coffee and he almost choked as he spat it back into his cup. But before he could say anymore, Sam came back through the sliding door.

“Alright lovebirds, you can stop having your meet cute moment now, we gotta go,” he said to Joaquin.

“And what about me?” You said indignantly, feeling a little put out.

“He’ll be back in time to take you out on a proper date later.” Sam retorted, marching back through the house to get his shit from where he’d left it by the front door.

“And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” You asked, completely brushing over the rest of what he’d said. “I don’t even live anywhere near here!” You stressed. “You just brought me here and now you’re gonna up and leave me here!” You said indignantly.

Joaquin froze in the middle of the hallway next to you, looking from his mentor and back to you as he tried to keep up with what’s going on. He felt conflicted. “I mean, can’t she just come with us.” He offered. “I mean, you brought her out here because you wanted to see what she could do. So I say let her.”

Sam looked between the two of you slowly, before he conceded. “Uh, fine. But if anything happens with her it’s on your head.” He warned but you were both smiling.

“So, is this technically our first date?” You ribbed him as he began to usher you out the door so he could lock up.

“We’ll see. Depends if you like it or not.” He mused and you had to admit, his cheeky smile did make you swoon.

“And if I don’t?” You asked with a playful twinkle in your eye.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured you with just as equal playfulness and innuendo, “you will.”

#joaquin torres #Joaquin Torres x reader #joaquin torres imagine #short #fluffy #mcu #falcon #captain america brave new world #captain America #Sam Wilson

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siempre-bucky · 3 months ago

Text

existence

Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader

summary: There's a rumor at the base that MRs. Torres doesn't exist. No birthday parties, no drinks at the bar after a mission, no base run functions. Sam crashes at the Toress' after the White House incident and sees if she actually exists.

wc: 1457

a/n: Spoilers for CA:BNW

His ears were still ringing.

Echos of gunfire and police sirens shrouded his mind, Sam’s body was on autopilot with his eyes burning holes into the dirty apartment complex carpet and his sore feet dragging along it. He still doesn’t comprehend how Joaquin could be in a chipper mood after that. Sam noticed the limp in Joaquin's step and the bruise on the back of his neck. It could have been worse, the President could have died, Cap reminded himself.

“Wait till you meet her, Sam! Ugh, I have been waiting for this for the longest time!” he cheered, clearly forgetting the late hour. Right, Sam blinked, he was finally meeting Mrs. Torres. After working together for three years, he thought this mystery woman didn’t exist. The younger man would make excuses “She’s working overseas,” or “She has no service.” But after catching a glimpse at his lock screen which proudly displayed a photo of the pair at a Hurricanes baseball game he changed his mind. The rest of the base thought it was AI-generated.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, man,” Sam forced out a chuckle, ribs screaming back at him.

Joaquin stopped at the door, digging his key out of his pocket and turning the lock. The echoes disappeared once Sam took a step into the small DC apartment. The smell of baked goods and a soft “We’re home, Amor” coming from the other man was enough to silence them for a moment, the pain in his ribs dulled with the feeling of anticipation rising.

She was real. His brown eyes discreetly widened as she appeared in the doorway that divided the kitchen and living room, wiping her hands with an orange and green rag. He didn’t take his eyes off her, she examined Joaquin up and down before giving herself the ok to crash into him. “I’m so happy you’re ok,” She muttered against his neck, his arms holding her against him.

The soft interaction made something in his chest ache, and the way Joaquin then cradled her face and whispered reassurance in two languages almost made him tear up. Almost. He’d be sure to make fun of him for this later.

“Sam, this is my wife.”

The woman smiled softly, aware of the situation at the White House, and introduced herself, outstretching her hand. He noticed her firm grip, but he could feel the tremble. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Sam. I can’t get him to shut up about you,” she chuckled, leaning back into Joaquin’s embrace.

“Nice to meet you too,” he said with a small smirk.

“There’s a pillow and blanket on the couch for you along with some clothes. Half his closet is just U Maimi stuff—I hope you don’t mind the colors.”

Sam turned around and glanced at the neat pile resting on the arm of the couch. “It’ll do fine. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome anytime. I’m going to get him cleaned up, let me know if you need anything else.” She patted her husband on the back and ushered him into the kitchen, dismissing all of his protests.

Sam walked towards the couch and ran his fingers over the plush olive green material of the blanket before picking up the vibrant green t-shirt. He snickered and tossed it over his shoulder.

“Shit!” a shrill curse came from the kitchen followed by soft apologies. It was instinct for the hero to look over and check out the scene. Joaqquin was fine, sitting on the counter with a piece of gauze covering his eyebrow. She stood between his legs, a look of sympathy on her face while she dabbed at the wound.

Love looked good on the kid. In their line of work, there wasn’t much room for love or even just the look of it on someone's face. He remembered the first night he saw it on Joaquin’s face; it was at a bar somewhere in Europe and Sam had been counting on his fingers how many girls the other had turned down for a dance.

“Five,” he laughed wiggling his fingers in his face.

Joaquin rolled his eyes and playfully shoved his hand away, “Yeah, yeah.”

“Wanna go for six or do you wanna tell me why you’ve said no to every pretty girl in this place.”

The curly-haired man took a swig of beer for confidence, letting out a deep sigh as he put the bottle back on the table. “I have someone back home,” he finally admitted.

“You got a little girlfriend!”

There was a small blush on his cheeks and a smile so soft and sweet it was sickening. “A wife.”

“Wife,” Sam repeated slowly.

“College sweethearts, I think that’s what it’s called.”

Yeah, love looked good on him. Sam snapped out of his memory and opened the blanket his eyes watching her press her hand against Joaquin’s chest with his wrapped around her wrist, his thumb swiping along the bone. His heart was beating, he was alive. Sam wondered if that was something they did after he came home from deployment, or now when he returned from a mission. Tonight was just supposed to be a fun night celebrating their mission, not stopping an assassination attempt.

“Sam…bro, you good?”

The couple stood in front of him, a red first aid kit in her hands. “Go get changed, I’ll patch up Captain America,” she smirked. Joaquin smiled and kissed her on the temple before retreating to the bedroom down the hall.

“I’m fine,” Sam laughed it off.

Her eyes flickered down to his arm, wet crimson staining a patch of his forearm. “Sit,” she told him firmly.

He took off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeve. Well, I’ll be damned, he thought as he looked at the sliced skin, it shouldn’t need stitches. She popped open the kit and got to work in silence. He should say something, the gears in his brain working overtime to come up with something appropriate.

“You know, I was starting to think you didn’t exist.” He settled on that. Nice going, Sam.

Thankfully she laughed, pouring a clear liquid over the cut that made him wince. “We get that a lot. We have a tally of all our friends who’ve said that.”

“Sorry to add another. Work keeps you away?”

She smiled and nodded, “I work for a charity. Helping communities rebuild after the blip. Some places haven’t been as lucky as we have. I was away a lot—it worked out when he was deployed.”

A sadness began to loom over her as she gently wrapped his arm with a white gauze. She missed him, and he missed her just as much. “Was?” he narrowed in on the past tense of her words.

“I requested a transfer to a desk job as soon as he finished those wings. I need to be here if something happens.” There was a tremor in her voice, “Him being Falcon puts him in even more danger. I want—need to be closer to him.”

“He’s a good man,” Sam told her gently, “a damn good Falcon, he learned from the best.” He got a smile and a small chuckle out of her relieving her of some of the nerves she carried.

She put her hand over the gauze and looked at him dead in the eye. “Keep him alive, Sam.” It was a gentle command. “He means everything to me.”

His lips parted and glanced down at the silver wedding band around her finger, thinking of a way to tell her that he might not be able to in this line of work. Joaquin saved the day, strolling into the room with a signature toothy smile. “Have you been talking about me this whole time?” he joked.

Her smile instantly brightened. “You wish,” she laughed, collecting her things from the couch and rose to her feet.

“She’s a miracle worker.” Sam raised his arm to show his partner the neatly wrapped gauze.

“Looks good, Sam!” The other man cheered, leaning forward to get a better look. “We don’t have a well-stocked medicine cabinet for nothing.”

“Yeah, I learned after too many scraped knees from the basketball court back in Maimi.”

Joaquin winced and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to his side. “Let’s let Captain America get some sleep,” he suggested, pressing his lips to the side of her head.

“Let us know if you need anything, Sam,” she told him.

“Will do, Mrs. Torres. Thank you for everything.”

“Anytime. We’re here or you.”

Sam got comfortable on the couch, and surprisingly he felt like he could fall asleep instantly. Pulling out his phone, he sent a quick text to his friends at the base: ‘Mrs. Torres exists.’

#joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres #captain america #captain america brave new world

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deansbeer · 6 months ago

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kari yaps. another dean blurb coming ur way! cause i'm having WAY too much fun with writing them !!! originally, when this was sitting in my drafts, it was supposed to be a full fic, but it wasn't coming out like i wanted it to, so i made it a blurb :)

warning(s) fluffy fluff fluff | implied shower sex | dean & his lil camera | reader gets emotional. ୨୧

📖 JACKLES library.

DEAN WINCHESTER was never really a 'stuff' guy. his life was all about function over form, about practicality, especially when it came to hunting. but one day, on a whim—or maybe because he'd been thinking about it longer than he wanted to admit—he bought a camera. not just any camera, either, but a $5000, top-of-the-line DSLR that he told himself he'd use to take pictures of all the places he and sam traveled to when they were on hunts. you know, a way to document the life he lived beyond the blood and gore, something to look back on that wasn't just a blur of monster and mayhem.

he didn't tell you about it at first. the camera just kind of appeared one day, tucked inside his duffle, and when you asked him about it, he looked a little embarrassed. "just thought it'd be nice to take some pictures of the scenery," he said with a shrug, like it wasn't a big deal. and maybe to him, it wasn't. at least, not in the way you thought.

but instead of snapping pictures of the rundown motels and backroads they traveled for work, dean found himself using the camera for something else entirely.

it wasn't until the two of you went on a mini-vacation, a week-long stay at a beach resort that you'd been talking about for years, that he really started to use it. you love the beach—always have. there's something about the sound of the waves, the feel of the sand beneath your feet, the salty breeze tangling in your hair, that makes you feel calm. and dean, well, he loves seeing you that way. relaxed, happy, at peace. so while you were busy soaking in the sun, or wading into the water, or just staring off into the distance with that little smile on your face, he was busy capturing it all.

you didn't know, of course. dean was sneaky like that. he didn't make a big show of it, didn't tell you to 'pose' or 'smile.' he just… watched you, quietly, through the lens, snapping photos of you when you weren't paying attention. and when you finally did notice him with the camera, he'd flash you that cocky grin of his and say something like, "just taking pictures of the view."

a few days later, after one of those long, lazy showers you and dean sometimes took together (the kind that weren't just about getting clean, if you know what i mean), that you stumbled upon a little secret of his. he stayed back in the bathroom, washing off a little longer, and you were sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling that post-shower glow, when you noticed a small album tucked underneath a pile of clothes in his black duffle.

curious, you pulled it out, flipping through the pages, and your breath caught in your throat. it wasn't just pictures of random places he'd been on hunts. it was you. photo after photo of you. at the beach, of course, but also in moments you didn't even realize he'd been watching—laughing, lost in thought, maybe even sleeping. and the pictures weren't just good; they were stunning. like, they looked like something out of a magazine, the kind of photos you'd see in a vogue or some fancy travel magazine.

you couldn't believe he'd taken them.

before he could catch you snooping, you quickly put the album back where you found it, heart racing a little, and changed into your pajamas, trying to act like nothing had happened. but the pictures stayed on your mind, even as you and dean curled up in bed and ordered some room service to cap off the night.

after that, you never mentioned it to him. you didn't want to make a big deal out of it, though you kind of wanted to. instead, you found yourself sneaking the camera for your own little adventures. when dean was out or distracted, you'd pull it from his bag and take a few selfies, figuring out how to use the thing. at first, it was a little tricky—those cameras are no joke—but with a little patience, you got the hang of it. you never did anything scandalous, just some cute pictures of yourself, and then you'd put it back in its place before dean could notice it was gone.

and he never did. at least, not until one night in your shared apartment. you were in the kitchen, snacking on some chocolate-covered strawberries dean had picked up on his way home from a hunt (because, in his words, they reminded him of you), and you were nose-deep in a romance novel you'd been dying to read. you heard him walking down the hallway, but you didn't think much of it. you were too wrapped up in your book and your snack, the perfect cozy day in.

what you didn't realize was that dean had found out about your little secret. he'd been going through the camera, checking out some new shots he'd taken, when he stumbled upon your selfies. not just the recent ones, either—he found all of them.

so when he came into the kitchen, camera in hand, he wasn't mad. in fact, he had this look on his face—kind of amused, kind of in awe. "so, you've been stealing my camera, huh?" he asked, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

you looked up at him, mouth full of strawberry, and gave him your cheekiest smile. "maybe," you said.

he didn't mind, though. if anything, he seemed impressed that you'd managed to sneak past him without him noticing. but later that same night, as you were getting ready for bed, you noticed something on his bedside table—a second album, smaller than the one you'd found before.

curiosity piqued again, you opened it up, and what you saw made your heart melt. dean had taken all the photos from the other album and added more—your selfies, the pictures he'd taken of you, everything. but this time, he'd decorated the pages with little stickers and captions in his messy, but endearing, handwriting. things like 'my beautiful girl,' 'my little mermaid,' 'my baby going for a swim.'

tears welled up in your eyes as you flipped through the pages, overwhelmed by how sweet and thoughtful it all was.

before you could even process it fully, you felt dean's arms wrap around you from behind, his bare chest warm against your back. you turned around in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and peppering kisses all over his face. "you really did all this for me?" you asked softly.

he nodded, his expression soft and sincere. "yeah, baby. wanted somethin' to remember you by when i'm out on hunts. somethin' special."

he even told you that he kept one of your selfies in his wallet, and that he loved showing it off to anyone who'd listen—sam, other hunters, whoever. "you're my girl," he said, pride in his voice.

and you couldn't help but smile wide, knowing that, no matter where the road took him, DEAN WINCHESTER was always thinking of you.

… his pretty girl.

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iovesentry · 7 days ago

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Close to gone

joaquin torres x fem!reader

summary: during the fight on the celestial island, joaquin got hit pretty badly. you got a call from sam wilson a day after telling you what happened to joaquin.

warnings: reader is an og avenger, joaquin and reader are the same age, mutual pining, slightly suggestive jokes in the end, confession ooooh, reader and sam have a father-daughter bond.

A/N: hiya everybody! i’m planning on writing more for joaquin since he’s currently my hyperfixation atm lol. i hope u guys enjoy this story, also feel free to give requests. photos from pinterest! 💞

you were in your office in sams place, finishing up your task. you knew sam and joaquin had a mission, but sam didn’t tell you the full details. he hoped to spare you from the worry, he knew how much joaquin meant to you. you decided to take a stroll around the office, looking at sams photos that he had framed. you saw one of him and bucky, one picture of him, you, and joaquin from your birthday.

you then moved to joaquins table, you never really got a good look at the things on his table since you were never really the one to snoop around. noticing a photo peeking out of the book he’s currently reading, you decided to open it. you felt your cheeks heat up when you saw your photobooth pictures together.

that was the day you and joaquin went out to unwind after a hectic mission with sam—he also knew you both had feelings for each other. you took out your phone to take a picture of the photo strip you held in your hand until a phone call notified, it was sam.

“hey cap, how are you guys?” you asked sam—you’ve been worried sick during the past few days they’ve been away, you never really got used to not having them around the office. sam also became a father figure in your life, after losing tony, it took a toll on you since you both had a really strong and close bond.

“hi sweets. i’m alright, got a broken arm and a really painful back ache.” you giggled, feeling relieved after hearing sams voice. “how about joaquin, how is he?” you asked sam, whenever you and sam would call, he’d always steal his phone so he could talk to you.

“i’m sorry sweets, he got hit pretty badly yesterday. i was gonna tell you immediately but… the incident with president ross, i had no time. if you’d like, you can visit him.” sam heard you sniffle, wishing he could be there to give you a hug. he knew how much joaquin meant to you, even though you both haven’t confessed your feelings yet—even though it’s quite literally very obvious—and he’s secretly wishing you’d both just fess up.

“where is he?” you asked sam after regaining composure, hoping your voice wouldn’t crack.

sam gave you the location and you wasted no time and left immediately. your mind was racing, heart pounding, and your hands were getting cold. you arrived at the hospital he was in and you raced to the floor he was on.

you were greeted by the nurses that monitored him, and asked them if you could have the room. they ushered themselves out of the room and left both you and joaquin inside.

you pulled up a chair beside his bed and you held his hand, “please be okay. i still have a lot to tell you, you know. i don’t know if you can hear me, i hope not ‘cause i’m about to tell you that i like you. i’ve liked you since the start, and i’m wishing and praying you’ll be okay so i can tell you how much i love you.” you held his hand with both your hands, looking at his scarred face.

you didn’t know how much time has passed since it was dark outside. the door began to open, revealing sam behind it. you immediately ran up to him, hugging him really tight.

“i missed you too sweets.” he handed you a bag with food, spotting your favorite meal. he knew you very well.

“is he gonna be okay, sam?” concern was laced all over your voice, and sam could tell. what happened to joaquin was truly terrifying, sam remembered his blood ran cold when he heard the explosion, seeing joaquin falling to the water.

“he’s strong. brave. he’ll be okay. you should get some rest, he wouldn’t want you exhausting yourself for him.” sam ushered you to the sofa near the window, handing you a blanket and two pillows.

“i’ll be right here sweets. you get some rest, okay?”

you woke up in the middle of the night, moonlight illuminating the hospital room. sam was nowhere to be seen, maybe went down to get himself something to eat.

“hey pretty girl.” you gasped, seeing joaquin awake made your heart skip a beat. you turned on the lamp on the nightstand, sitting down beside him on his bed.

“you idiot! i was worried sick about you! what even happened, are you okay? are you in pain—“ before you could finish your questions, he immediately shut you up with a kiss. your entire body heat up at the kiss, cheeks red, and you were nervous as hell. the kiss was slow and passionate, making you melt into his touch. you made sure not to get tangled into the wires, cupping his face to kiss him better.

by the time you both pulled away, you were breathless. foreheads rested against each other, you both giggled.

“i love you, pretty. i always have, and always will. i wanna spend my life with you, just the two of us. i know i should’ve said things sooner but i got scared everytime.” he held your hand and looked at you, trying to read the reaction plastered on your face.

“i love you too, joaquin. i’ve liked you for so long but i never really got the courage to tell you face to face, i was scared you’d reject me or something. i’ve liked you from the moment we met, when sam introduced me to you in washington.” you remembered your first encounter together, and it was when someone had spilled coffee on you when you were on the way to sam. you remembered joaquin handing you a spare tshirt, flashing you a charismatic smile.

“are you guys done yet?” sam entered the room, bag of food in his hand again. he placed the bags on the table, leaving the room and giving you both space.

“i’m sorry for what happened to you,” his state wasn’t the best, but he’s holding up. “do you wanna eat anything? you hungry?” you asked him, getting up to get the food sam got.

“are you on the options?” he smirked at his joke, that earned him a light slap on the chest.

“you know what? when you’re healed.” you winked at him, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. he opened his arms and you settled in beside him. you both fell into deep slumber, getting spotted by sam. he snaps a picture of the both if you, having something to show everyone soon.

#joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres fanfic #joaquin torres #the falcon #captain america brave new world #the avengers #danny ramirez #marvel fanfic #marvel story #mcu #anthony mackie #sam wilson x platonic!reader #sam wilson x reader #joaquin torres x fem!reader

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wendichester · 14 days ago

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can you write smth about cas x reader where shes autistic and dean and sam dont know how to handle her because one minute she's fine, the next shes not and only cas knows how to handle her? absolutely no pressure sweetheart, love your work and would love to see your where you take it 🫶🏼🩷

𓍯𓂃 the language only you speak,

summary. you're overwhelmed. the noises. the lighting. the air. everything's too much. everything but castiel. castiel is everything you need.

pairing. castiel x autistic!reader genre. fluff

wordcount. 756

notes / warnings. soft cas being the best emotional support angel 🩷

It starts small. It always does.

The bunker’s too loud tonight. Dean’s clanging around in the kitchen, and Sam’s arguing with him over something dumb, and the lights are too bright, and the hum of the AC feels like it’s drilling into the soft spot behind your eyes.

You try to smile. You try to be normal.

But it’s like your skin is wearing you instead of the other way around. Everything itches. Everything scrapes.

“Hey,” Dean says, tossing a beer cap onto the counter. “You okay?”

You nod too fast, too hard. The wrong rhythm. Dean’s eyebrows pinch, confused. Sam glances at you, then at Dean, like you’re a puzzle with missing pieces they can’t find.

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Dean shifts awkwardly. “Uh… well, we're gonna watch a movie if you wanna—"

“No,” you blurt, louder than you mean to. "No thank you."

The words are stiff, clunky, mechanical. They feel wrong. You feel wrong.

Sam frowns. “You sure? It’s not scary or anything. It’s just—”

“I said no," you choke out, pressing your palms to your thighs, grounding yourself. "I’m fine. I'm fine."

You can tell they don’t believe you.

They exchange that look — the one where they don’t know if they should back off or push. The one that makes you feel like a bomb with a missing timer. Dangerous, unstable.

You bolt.

You don’t mean to. You just have to.

The hallway spins around you as you speed-walk to your room, shutting the door quietly (quietly, you have to stay good, you have to stay polite, don’t slam it, don’t draw more attention).

You sit on the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself, fighting back the burn building behind your eyes.

It’s stupid. You’re stupid. They probably think you’re crazy.

You're so lost in the spiral you almost don’t hear the soft knock on your door.

“Can I come in?” Cas.

You nod, even though he can't see you.

He enters gently, not saying anything. He doesn’t turn on the overhead light. He doesn’t stomp his boots. He just crosses the room like he's made of water and weightless things, and sits beside you on the bed.

“I could sense your distress,” he says simply.

You blink rapidly. “I’m fine.”

Cas tilts his head. "That is a common lie among humans."

The smallest, tiniest huff of a laugh escapes you. It cracks the shell you’re in just enough to breathe.

Cas waits.

Not like the others do — not heavy with expectation, not pacing in impatience — but truly waits. Like there’s all the time in the universe and he’s already given it to you.

You squeeze your hands together so tight it hurts. “It’s just... sometimes everything’s too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too everything.”

Cas nods, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like you just told him the sky is blue.

“They don't mean to make it worse,” you whisper. “They just... don’t know what to do with me.”

“They love you,” Cas says quietly. “But they do not understand you the way you deserve.”

You blink again, tears finally breaking free. Cas reaches out — slow, careful — and places his hand over yours.

Warmth. Steady. Anchor.

“You are not a burden,” he says. His voice hums like a prayer. “Your feelings are not wrong. Your needs are not wrong. You are not wrong.”

You clutch his hand like a lifeline. Like a tether pulling you back to the earth.

“I don’t know how to make them not... uncomfortable," you admit, voice shaking. “I don’t want to be a problem.”

“You are not a problem,” Cas says firmly. “You are a person. One who experiences the world more sharply, perhaps. But that is not something to fix. It is something to cherish.”

You hiccup a soft, broken laugh. “Dean would probably disagree.”

Cas’s mouth twitches into something almost-smile. “Dean is often wrong.”

You snort. Cas squeezes your hand, just once.

“They will learn,” he says. "I will help them."

You look at him — this strange, stubborn, tender creature who always sees the parts of you you try to hide — and for the first time tonight, your chest feels a little lighter.

You lean your head against his shoulder. He lets you. No flinching, no fidgeting, no trying to fix you. Just there.

Just enough.

Maybe you’re not broken after all.

Maybe you just needed someone who speaks the same language.

And Cas? Cas is fluent in you.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

#castiel #castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel supernatural #castiel novak #castiel fluff #castiel fic #castiel spn #supernatural #.docx #.req

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notafunkiller · 1 year ago

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best daddy ever

Summary: When Sam drops by unannounced, he discovers something new about Bucky.

Pairing: thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: teasing, pet names, daddy kìnk, language, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 1K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you’ll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

“You know that’s not funny, right?”

You giggle when you hear his broody tone as you make your way to the kitchen. You don’t realize that his words are not directed at you until you almost have a heart attack.

Of course you scream in shock when you see Sam sitting casually at your table while Bucky is leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed.

He immediately rushes toward you, though, when you place a hand on your chest. Your heart is beating so fast.

“Are you okay, honey?”

The way he casually wraps his arm around your waist casually to pull you closer in front of Sam makes you melt. You might never get used to him initiating PDA, but it makes you really happy.

“I’m okay, I’m sorry for screaming.”

You know he’s about to scold you for apologizing, but thankfully Sam speaks first.

“Hi, cutie. No worries, I came to annoy your tinman.”

You don’t even have to look at Bucky to know he’s rolling his eyes, his grip tightening on your hip as he groans.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call her that?”

“So you don’t think she’s cute?”

You bring your hand to his chest just to distract him a bit. Sam loves to push his buttons almost as much as you do.

“Yeah, James, don’t you?”

You know you’re playing with fire after earlier, but it’s too fun not to. Especially when he gives you that look... you’re in trouble look. And you love to be in trouble with him.

“Get out of our house, Cap, so I can show her exactly how cute I think she is.”

Neither of you expected this since you both gasped. Bucky is sassy, that’s for sure, but you didn’t anticipate this type of casual sexual innuendo comment. Because he meant sex, right? There is no way he didn’t unless he is cruelly teasing you in vain.

“Guess the Winter Soldier is not so wint-” But Sam doesn’t finish his sentence, throwing his hands in the air in defense while still laughing when Bucky looks at him again. “Glad it still works, I was a little worried.”

“No need to worry, Sam, I promise.“ You smirk, patting Bucky’s ass twice before going to the coffee maker, stealing a whine out of him. “Want to stay for breakfast?”

“No,” Bucky answers for him, and you roll your eyes. You know Sam doesn’t mind his attitude because he’s known him for a long time, but you still want to be a good host.

“I can make crepes if you-”

“Doll, please.”

Sam looks at Bucky, then at you, and winks, smiling widely. “I’m leaving, I’m leaving. But don’t forget what I told you and stay out of trouble.“

It’s too vague for you to understand, so you’ll just wait for Sam to be gone to interrogate Bucky.

“Goodbye, Cap.”

And there he is, softer Bucky. You grab a cup for him too, and he smiles. You’ve never seen a more beautiful man in your entire life. He is magnetic and charming, and you feel like kissing him all the time. You don’t know how you managed to get him as your boyfriend, but you’re grateful.

“What is this? Oh my god, you kinky old man!”

Confused, you immediately make your way to the living room, following Bucky. You don’t know what Sam could have seen to say that, and you definitely didn’t expect him to hold Bucky’s cap in both of his hands, analyzing it. Your gift... Shit!

“Best. Daddy. Ever?”

You close your eyes, embarrassed, but Bucky, surprisingly, doesn’t seem to feel the same way. You don’t sense any shame or change in his vibes or posture. He simply stares at Sam as usual and snatches the cap from his hands.

“That’s mine.”

“I realized, daddy.” Sam can’t stop laughing even when he turns his head toward you. But when he sees you all serious, his face drops. “Or do you mean…”

“Mean what?“ You snap, a bit annoyed about the fact you two got busted in such a stupid way. And it’s all Bucky’s fault since he’s the one who left it there.

Only when Sam lowers his eyes to your belly, do you realize what he means.

“No, she’s not pregnant, idiot!”

“So you really have a fucking daddy kink? How do you even know-“ He stops mid-sentence, still totally taken aback, and Bucky sneaks behind you to open the entrance door. “How did you manage to corrupt this old man?”

You can’t help but laugh this time. If only he knew the truth...

Bucky puffs, pushing Sam out. “Goodbye, Sam!”

Thankfully, before Bucky could close the door in his face, you manage to say goodbye and wave:

“Trust me, I was not the one doing the corruption with this.”

You wish you could see Sam’s face. What a loss!

“He won’t stop talking about this, you know that, right?”

“You’re the one who left it here, so blame yourself.”

You take the cap from the table, where he put it, and walk straight to him, getting on your tiptoes before placing it on his head. Bucky looks at you with a mix of surprise and amusement as you adjust the cap to sit just right. He is the best daddy ever, indeed. If Sam heard how dirty Bucky could get during sex, he’d die. Contrary to what he believed, Bucky is the one who came up with this whole daddy thing while you were in the middle of fucking raw, right after he finished a mission. It rolled shyly but naturally of his tongue, and of course you liked it. You love calling him daddy even if you do it just to tease him. But it must be so hard, probably, for Sam to picture this mountain of a man, quiet but also sassy, knowing his past, like this.

“You’re staring.” Bucky smirks, and you feel your knees weakening. God, that smile! “And you’re horny.”

“What if I am? Gonna take care of me, daddy?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu #sebastian stan #sam wilson #blurb #bucky barnes blurb #my fanfics #my stories #tfatws

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persevereforahappyending · 6 months ago

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No Man's Land |9|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Fighting, Guns, Violence, Attempted Murder, Shooting

Word Count: 3.5k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You and Sam walked back to Blackmore in a comfortable silence. You preferred the quiet and appreciated that she didn’t ask you questions or push you on anything. Sam had no reason to trust you, but she was taking a chance, and you were going to make sure to prove you were worthy of her trust. When you got to Blackmore you and Sam sat on one of the benches outside the building that held Tara’s class until she came out half an hour later. As soon as you had her, the three of you went back to the apartment.

When you got back to the apartment Tara flung her backpack into the corner and plopped herself down on the couch, kicking her feet up as she reached for the remote on the coffee table. She flicked on the TV and instantly began scrolling through one of the streaming apps.

You mindlessly watched at Tara continued to scroll until you felt her eyes on you. You glanced at her and waited to see what she would say. Mindy was the most suspicious of you, which was fair, though she seemed to be more of a conspiracy theorist than anything, Chad seemed almost too trusting of you, it was slightly concerning, and Tara seemed to be hesitant of you, like Sam was with everyone, though she wasn’t as paranoid Sam. The one thing different about Tara though was half her suspicion seemed to come from just being protective of her sister.

“Do you like movies?” Tara asked, squinting her eyes as she waited for your response.

You shrugged. “I’ve seen a few,” you said.

That seemed to make Tara only narrow her eyes even more. “What’s your favorite movie?” You opened your mouth to give her what would probably be an unsatisfactory answer once again. “Wait! Let me guess,” she turned so half her body was facing you. “Saving Private Ryan!” You opened your mouth, but she didn’t stop there. “No! Hacksaw Ridge!” You closed your mouth and waited; you knew she wasn’t done yet. “You have a dog you love,” she mumbled more to herself than you. “War Horse!” She clapped her hands, quite proud of herself for that one. “Wait!” She shot her hand out, grabbing you on your arm as if you were about to get up and leave. “The Patriot.”

You waited a second to see if she had any more, but she just looked at you with a raised eyebrow. You chuckled to yourself with a shake of your head. “All military related because I’m in the military?” You asked.

She shrugged. You playfully rolled your eyes. “Those are all great movies,” you started. You caught Sam out of the side of your eye, she was in the kitchen making a sandwich, but she tilted her head just slightly, indicating she was listening. “The superhero stuff is also good. I-”

“I bet you’re a Captain America person,” Tara cut you off. You rolled your eyes. “You give off the same vibes.”

You gave her a thankful nod. You had never been compared to Captain America before and you were truly honored, though you were inclined to disagree with her. “Cap is great,” you said. “And Steve Rogers is definitely much cooler than me.” Tara shrugged, seeming to agree with you on that. “But I’ve always been more of a Batman person.”

Tara looked at you and nodded her head. “That tracks.” You tilted your head in question, but she didn’t elaborate any further.

“But my default movie, the one I’m always cool to watch, The Mummy.”

“Where Brendan Frazier plays a soldier,” Tara nodded, clearly not surprised by the answer.

“Only in the beginning do the movie,” you defended. Seriously the movie started with him figuring in the desert but that was it when it came to military related things. Unless Tara was also counting the pilot they found to fly them back out there.

“So, you just really love mummies?” Tara raised an eyebrow.

“The Mummy is fantastic, it’s got everything, action, comedy, a supernatural element, and romance. There should be no explanation required.” You had never had to defend liking The Mummy before, you thought Sam’s sister was going to school for film, you figured she’d know this better than anyone. “Oh, and Rachel Weisz,” you added.

“All good points,” Sam said, coming back into the room. She handed you a bottle of water before taking her seat in the chair next to the couch. You gave her a thankful smile; you hadn’t even asked for a drink for her to just bring one to you.

“You too?” Tara shouted, whipping her head around so fast you were surprised she didn’t get whiplash.

Sam shrugged as she curled her feet up on the chair, tucking them under her before reaching for her sandwich on the coffee table. “Who doesn’t love Brendan Frazier and Rachel Weisz,” she said as if they explained everything.

Sam went on to eat her sandwich while Tara was looking at her sister in a whole new light, as if she was seeing her sister for the first time. You were still new and getting to know the sisters, but you were curious why Sam liking The Mummy would be so surprising. Tara just stared at her sister for several minutes before finally going back to scrolling for a movie, finally deciding to settle on The Mummy.

Not long after the movie ended did Chad walk in with a stack of three pizza’s, quickly followed by the others. “Dinner is served!” Chad said, holding up the pizza’s as he took them to the dining table.

“Thanks for picking them up,” Sam said as she got up to grab some paper plates.

Chad waved her off and flipped open all three boxes. Each pizza was different, there was a plain cheese, a pepperoni, and then a meat lovers. You and Tara got up to join the others around the table, everyone grabbed their slices and then went off to separate corners of the room. Quinn took the seat across the room, closest to the door, Mindy and Anika cuddled up next to each other on the floor, Ethan plopped himself down in the seat furthest from the door, and Tara dropped herself down in what was Sam’s seat because Chad stole her spot on the couch next to you.

Once Chad finished up his pizza, he wiped his hands off on a napkin and tossed it onto his dirty plate. He was still chewing the last bit of his food as he switched the channel on the TV and grabbed a PS4 controller. You wiped your own hands and put your trash on top of his, creating an organized little pile. You leaned back and watched the screen as Chad flipped through games.

“What are you playing?” you asked.

“Crash,” he said mindlessly.

“Racing or the original?”

Chad’s mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish. He looked at you then back at the TV, only to do a double take and look back at you. It was like he couldn’t believe you were asking him about video games.

“R-Racing,” he said. “Want to join?” he reached over and grabbed the other controller and held it out to you.

You shrugged and took the controller from him. “Sure,” you said.

The two of you selected our characters and started the first race. You let Chad pick the track, you knew he’d need the edge anyway. The two of you raced around, doing your laps, you felt everyone’s eyes on you and the TV but you paid them no mind as you drove your way into first place. You were on the last lap when you dropped a TNT crate, only to hear Chad hit it a few seconds later. You quickly crossed the finish line, coming in first, then you leaned back and watched as Chad tried to fight his way back up the line, striving to just not come in last.

You repeated that with the same outcome another three races. Chad was hunched over, pressing the buttons hard as if that would make the cart go faster. You kept your eyes on the screen, never wavering as you completed lap after lap, coming in first every single time.

“You’re good at this,” Chad said. “How are you so good?”

“I play all the time when I’m home,” you said with a shrug.

“That’s why the only thing in your house is a game system,” Sam said.

You looked over at her and smiled. “Got my PS5 and my dog, what more could one possibly want?” Sam tilted her head, seeming to actually think about the question then nodded with a small shrug.

“One more,” Chad said, already flipping through the tracks again.

You rolled your eyes and got ready again as Chad finally selected the track. You were fully prepared to beat Chad on every track, using any character.

You got distracted when you noticed Sam staring down at her phone. You paused the game, ignoring Chad’s protests as you waited to see what was going on with Sam. “Everything okay?” you asked.

Sam looked up, meeting your eyes. “I don’t know,” she said. “Your dad is calling me,” she looked at Quinn.

Quinn furrowed her brow and leaned forward in the chair. “He’s probably just following up,” Quinn said with a shrug. “Or wanting to update you.”

Sam nodded but she didn’t seem too certain in Quinn’s guess. Whatever doubt she was having didn’t stop her from raising the phone to her ear. “Detective Bailey?” Sam spoke into the phone.

You couldn’t hear the other end of the line, but Sam’s furrowed brow deepened. “Yes, I know him,” she said. You look around the room, seeing Chad, Mindy, and Tara all looked just as confused. “Of course, I’m on my way.”

As soon as Sam hung up the phone she was moving and so were you and Tara. Sam didn’t even so much as look at any of you as she grabbed her keys. “Sam,” Tara said. “Sam, what’s going on?”

“Stay here,” is all Sam said.

“What happened?” you asked as you made your way over to the sisters.

Sam finally paused her movements and looked up at you, then at her sister. “That was detective Bailey.” You and Tara both nodded. “He said Doctor Stone is dead.”

“Who?” you asked. You glanced at Tara to see her furrow, her brow before her eyes widened.

“He’s my old therapist,” Sam dropped her eyes to the floor.

You furrowed her brow; you weren’t sure why Sam seemed ashamed of that. You went to a therapist; she didn’t know it was because you were ordered to, but she knew you saw one. She went with you to your appointment earlier, you couldn’t see why she would think you would judge her for seeing a therapist herself. You didn’t want to pressure her though; she didn’t owe you any answers.

“I need to go down to the station,” Sam said.

“Great, let’s go,” Tara said, gesturing for Sam to walk towards the door.

“No, no,” Sam spun around, holding her hand up to Tara. “You’re staying here.”

“No, we’re not splitting up,” Tara shook her head. “School was one thing, but this?” she pointed around her. “No. I’m going with you.”

Sam let out a tired sigh and ran a hand through her hair. “Fine.”

“Obviously I’m coming as well,” you said. Sam opened her mouth, probably to argue with you as well. “This is why you asked me here,” you whispered, looking her in the eye. You weren’t sure what it was but the idea of Sam and her sister going out there alone, at night, after Ghostface killed someone connected to Sam, it didn’t sit right with you.

“Okay,” Sam conceded, nodding. “The rest of you stay here,” she said loudly, looking at each and every one of them. Once they all nodded in agreement Sam finally made her way to the door.

You followed behind Sam and Tara, keeping close as they quickly ran down the steps and out the door without a second thought. You checked your surroundings as soon as you got outside, making sure to keep your head on the swivel.

“Why would Ghostface go after your old therapist?” Tara questioned. “I though you hadn’t seen that dude in months.”

“I haven’t,” Sam said. “It was only a couple sessions before I left him.”

“So, is he important?” you asked, inserting yourself into the conversation.

“No,” Sam shook her head. “As soon as he learned who I was…” she crossed her arms over her chest. “He wasn’t the right fit, we never even got into the details.”

You nodded, you could understand why she might not want to share that information. You didn’t care about why she was seeing a therapist or why she left this Doctor Stone, it was none of your business. “Then whoever this is might not know you switched therapists.” You looked around, carefully watching the other people on the street as you passed them. “They might have gone after him, thinking he was your current one still.”

Sam furrowed her brow and then nodded. “The only one I mentioned my new therapist to was Tara,” she looked at her sister.

“And I haven’t told anyone,” Tara said.

You nodded. “Good, don’t tell anyone. Your therapist is safer if no one knows who they are.”

Sam and Tara both agreed and continued their walk down the street. It was only a few minutes later when Sam pulled out her phone, you saw over her shoulder that she was getting a call from some guy named Richie Kirsch.

“Why do you still have his number?” Tara asked, clearly recognizing whoever this was.

Sam looked at her sister guiltily. “I couldn’t bring myself to delete his number,” she admitted quietly. You furrowed your brow; you could only begin to guess who this guy was.

“What do you want asshole?” Sam asked as she answered the phone, her attitude quickly becoming aggressive.

You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, and you were just watching Sam’s reaction until you caught a shadow moving out of the corner of your eye. You just reacted, your arm shooting out to catch the arm of Ghostface as he tried to bring a knife down on Tara. You knocked Tara back toward Sam with our free arm, and twisted Ghostface’s hand, then punched him in the face.

“Run!” you called out to the girls, hoping they listened to you. As Ghostface stumbled back, trying to shake off the hit you brought your knee up, nailing him in the gut, and sending him falling back into the bushes.

You didn’t hesitate to turn around and take off after the girls, quickly catching up to them. You felt something when you kneed Ghostface, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it as Sam flung open the door to a bodega. You were only a couple steps behind them, swinging the door open to see them begging the cashier to help them.

You looked back and caught a flash of a cloak through the window. You pushed Sam and Tara back, spreading out your arms so that they wouldn’t be easy to hit as Ghostface charged into the bodega. One of the customers stepped forward and was yelling at Ghostface when Ghostface just started stabbing him in the chest and then a few of the other customers.

“The backdoor!” the cashier called out, nodding his head to the side as he reached under the counter and pulled out a shotgun. You glanced back to see a door on the other side of the room. You pushed Tara and Sam towards it so they could get out first as you kept your eyes on Ghostface.

The cashier tried to shoot Ghostface but couldn’t raise the gun before Ghostface reached out and ripped it out of his hands. Ghostface flipped the gun around and blasted the cashier in the chest. Your eyes widened and you turned and grabbed Sam and Tara. Ghostface had just raised the gun and fired at the back door when you pushed Sam and Tara down to the ground behind some of the shelves.

You raised a finger to your lips and then gestured forward, indicating for them the to slowly move. You kept your back pressed against the shelf as Tara and Sam slowly crawled around to the next aisle. When they got over there Sam looked back at you and you gestured for her to continue forward. If they kept going and kept quiet, then they could make it back to the front door and while you distracted Ghostface they could slip right out. Sam seemed hesitant to continue on, but she did anyway.

You stayed low and kept your eyes looking up, waiting for the perfect opportunity. You listened as Ghostface’s boots slowly crunched across the broken glass and bags of chips that were now scattered across the ground. You caught a glimpse of the barrel of the gun when the sound of someone hitting a bottle echoed throughout the room.

You held your breath and froze in place. The barrel of the gun disappeared and then a shot echoed through, hitting the shelf across the room and sending snacks flying. You only had to hear the crunch of Ghostface’s boot to make your move, shooting up from your spot and launching yourself at Ghostface.

You grabbed onto the gun and kept it pointed up as Ghostface tried to turn it on you. The two of you went back and forth, each of you fighting for control of the gun. In your struggle the gun got pointed up and went off, blowing a hole through the ceiling and sending chunks raining down on you.

“Go!” you called over your shoulder. If the sisters didn’t move now, you weren’t sure you could get them another chance.

You heard the sound of footsteps running across the floor and caught a flash of Sam’s jacket out of the corner of your eye. You jerked the gun up, finally ripping it out of Ghostface’s hands. You flipped the gun around and fired, only for nothing to happen, it was out of ammo. You flipped it back around and used the butt of the gun to smack the Ghostface’s chest with all your strength.

Ghostface went stumbling back until he hit the back door. As soon as Ghostface pushed off the door you thew the shot gun at him, making him react and catch it, the impact making him hit the door again. You reached behind you and pulled out your gun, not hesitating to raise it and fired three bullets into Ghostface’s chest.

Ghostface slid to the ground, his back against the wall and his body slumped over as the shotgun rested at his side. You stepped forward, raising the gun to Ghostface’s head when you finally heard the sirens. You dropped the gun back to your side and quickly tucked it back in its holster at your back before making your way out of the bodega.

Almost as soon as you stepped foot outside you were hit with a small impact. You let out a groan and looked down to see Tara with her arms wrapped around her waist. “Thank you,” she mumbled into your shirt. Police officers rushed past the two of you, none of them paying you any attention as they made their way into the bodega, their guns drawn.

“Are you okay?” you asked, looking down at Tara. You weren’t big on hugs but if it made Tara feel better then you were willing to accept it.

“What happened?” Sam asked, rushing up beside you. “Did you get him? Are you hurt?” she looked you up and down, searching for new injuries.

“I’m fine,” you assured her. “I shot him, but I didn’t get him,” you looked back at the front door, just waiting for him to come out.

“What do you mean?” Sam furrowed her brow. Tara finally released you and looked up as she waited to hear your answer as well.

“He was wearing bullet proof vest.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Flet it as soon as I kneed him on the street.” It took a while with all the adrenaline for you to finally connect the dots as to what you felt. You had more to say btu you didn’t think this was the time or place with all the prying eyes. You knew it was a good idea to keep the information to yourself when the cops came back out and said Ghostface was gone.

You, Tara, and Sam rushed back into the bodega to see the back door open, the lock that was on the door now lay scattered on the ground. Ghostface recovered fast, he could certainly take a hit, but you weren’t surprised he escaped. Just one fight with this Ghostface and you had enough information to narrow down your suspects. You weren’t sure when you’d have the time or privacy to go over everything with Sam though.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess @luvwanda @rqizzu @riyaexee

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter imagine #sam carpenter x fem!reader #samantha carpenter #samantha carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #scream #scream vi #scream 6 #no man's land

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fallen-w1ngs · 21 days ago

Text

'' flower shop of new feelings ,,

[ 01: the cute florist ]

|| pairing : james "bucky" barnes x florist!reader

|| summary : When Clint's birthday comes sooner than Bucky realized, Steve forced him to go buy some gift for Hawkeye. Figuring that flowers were an easy enough gift, he takes a visit to the flower on the corner of the street..

There, he meets a cute florist, someone who seemed to melt his cold heart. How will Bucky navigate this modern world romance? Will he allow himself to fall in love? If so.. How will he keep this from the team? And how will you react to him being the Winter Soldier?

|| warning : this is a series that im writing on both ao3 , im js posting this on tumblr cz why not? yk? also, every part im not adding the summary, it's js for this !!

|| wc : 1.7k

“C’mon, Buck, you have to get him a gift. He’s your friend.”

“No, he’s your friend, I doubt any of your friends actually still want me around.”

“Sam likes y-”

“Sam doesn’t count.”

Bucky and Steve had been going at it for the past while, it was Clint’s birthday tomorrow and Steve really, really wanted Bucky to get more used to the team. After the whole fallout with the Sokovia Records, everyone was lucky that it was put aside. Bucky’s crimes were pardoned as well as the majority of Cap’s team, but it was still real tense.

It was a wonder Tony let them all still live in the Tower. I mean, not all of them lived there. Thor and Loki came and went, Clint lived with his family in god knows where, Peter lived with his aunt but visited VERY frequently, and Wanda and Vision moved out to live on their own. Which is.. Completely understandable.

“Clint likes.. He likes you, I mean he was on our side, remember?”

Bucky shot a wary look Steve’s way, his eyebrow twitching up before rolling his eyes. “If I were to get Barton something, what does he even like? I know nothin’ ‘bout your friends.”

“.. It’d be safe to get him flowers.” Steve shrugged and stood up from Bucky’s desk chair, before this, Steve barged into his best friend's room and started interrogating him about the birthday. “Though, you could check in with Romanoff.”

With a quiet grunt, Bucky nodded and flopped back in bed as Steve walked out. He hated this. Well, hate was a strong word. It was strange to him, having this much freedom. He had the freedom to try to get closer to people, yet he didn’t.. Know how to. He’d forgotten. He was better at this back in his day.

–

“Flowers?” Natasha quirked her eyebrow up before she hit the dummy with a hard kick. She’d been training for the past hour or so, blowing off some steam. “Clint likes the basics, roses, lilies, y’know.”

“And you’re sure it’s a good idea?”

“He likes flowers, I think he’d like something more practical, but he’s probably not expecting much from you,” She punched the dummy repeatedly, giving it no time to try and bounce back. After a few moments, and ine final blow, the dummy flew across the room and tumbled down. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Bucky mentally checked that off.. Roses, lilies.. Basic flowers. Something practical. “What other things does he like?”

Natasha hummed and walked over to the dummy, carrying it back to the original spot as she thought. “Laura,” She could practically feel Bucky ask, so she cut him off. “Barton’s wife mentioned he wanted to get into carving. Maybe get him a knife for that?”

“Oh.” He nodded slowly and checked that down. “Thank you, Romanoff.”

“Call me Natasha,” She spared him a sideways glance and lazy smile before she went back to beating the crap out of some training dummy.

–

With some research (asking F.R.I.D.A.Y), Bucky found a small flower shop with good ratings, but not too many, meaning it was smaller. He didn’t like going out in the public all too much just yet. Felt too.. Vulnerable? He didn’t know. He just hated people.

Well, thankfully, he found a more isolated shop. It was a 15 minute walk from the tower, it was a flower shop that served as a bookstore as well. A real cute scene. A scene where Bucky felt out of place.

The small bell on the top of the door rung as Bucky swung the door open. He had a baseball hat on, his red henley, and a jacket to try and.. Hide who he was. Didn’t want some poor old lady to get scared when seeing him. (He assumed that the owner was some little lady.)

“Just a minute!”

Bucky froze at the voice, okay, didn’t sound like an old lady. He pushed his hat closer to his head as he heard shuffling from the back.

Instead of a little lady, he found you. You popped out of the back door, stack of boxes in your arms, and a big smile on your face. Charming, cute almost.

“Welcome to the Flower Parlor! How can I help y’today?” You recited what you said to other customers most likely, as you put the boxes down on the ground, on the other side of the counter.

As Bucky watched you straighten yourself out, your shoulders stiffened as you looked up at him. Oh god, he looked real scary. Baseball hat, dark jacket, looks like he’s gonna rob the place! Ah, but he wouldn't get much from here.

“I need help with a birthday gift.”

Oh wow, his voice sent a shiver down your spine. His voice was as if.. Well, you didn’t know, but it was really nice! He had- yeah, he had a nice voice, god get a grip.

“Ooh! Alrighty, tell me ‘bout the birthday person and I’ll gladly make a bouquet for ‘em! And a nice book to go along with it too!” In a swift motion, you grabbed some semi-transparent paper you used to make bouquets and watched him expectantly.

“Uh, he..” God, what did Clint like? “Likes.. Bow ‘n arrows.”

You raised a brow at the factoid Bucky dropped but didn’t question, instead, you grabbed some Hyacinths and placed them neatly on the paper, making sure to make it look pretty.

This kept going, he’d drop a factoid of Clint, you’d grab a flower. Hyacinths because they represented Apollo, who was the god of Archery. White roses to represent loyalty, A few hydrangeas because Bucky said he was a ‘family man’ and a few baby’s breaths to fluff it up a bit more and you were done! The bouquet consisted of a more purple and white color palette, in turn, you made the ribbon that held it together a dark purple.

“Oh, uh, thank you.” Bucky muttered as you handed the bouqet of flowers to him. He hadn’t held one since.. Well, almost 80 years ago.

“And a book, whaddya think your birthday guy likes t’read?”

“Oh- uh-” Bucky took a sharp breath in and shrugged.

To that, you let out a small giggle, running your hand through your messy hair before you looked on your bookshelf, trying to find some good book. Oh, but Bucky wasn’t paying attention to what he could be getting Clint, no, he stopped the moment that laugh left your lips.

Didn’t know why, but that laugh just stopped his thinking. It was so light, gentle. Man, no one at the Tower was this soft, the- the opposite actually. Yet here you were, actually laughing at Bucky’s confusion.. It wasn’t condescending, more amused, actually. God! Get a grip, James, you’re not gonna see ‘em again after this.

“How ‘bout a classic? The Hobbit? Or maybe Their Eyes were Watching God?”

“I remember reading The Hobbit.”

“Yeah? How’dya like it?”

“.. Don’t like wizards all that much”

Again, you snorted and started to laugh at his disdain to wizards. Which was fair, he wasn’t the biggest fan of Dr. Strange, but he liked him better than.. Well, a whole heck of a lot of people.

“Then how ‘bout Their Eyes were Watching God?” You put the Hobbit back on the shelf and walked up to him, extending your hand and handing the book to him. Your fingers touched momentarily, his gloved hand met your soft ones and Bucky’s mind blanked for a moment. God! He was actin’ like a schoolboy back when he found out Daisy liked him back in grade school all those years ago.

“Yeah, okay, yeah.” With a hurrid nod, Bucky took the book and held everything in his left hand, fumbling for his wallet with his right. “How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house.”

“What?”

“Eh, you’re a much better customer than I usually get,” You shrugged and pushed your hands in the pockets of your apron. “Usually I get assholes who wanna buy flowers after cheating on their partners.. Ah, you’re here for a friend though! So.. Yeah, on the house”

“I can’t, lemme just-”

“Really, you’re fine-”

“I insist-”

The bell of the door jingled and cut you both off, you yelled out “Just a minute!” just like you did for Bucky. A small smile on your face as you turned back up to the man in front of you, who was still grabbing a $20 bill and shoved it to you.

“Oh-” You sighed before letting out a small snort. “Fine, you win this time, Mr..”

“James.”

“James.” You repeated and took the bill, pocketing it into your apron. Heart bearing as you nodded to him and backed away. “Well, I hope your friend has a good birthday. It was nice meeting you, James.”

Bucky gave a small smile and nodded as he walked to the door. The bell jingled again as he opened it. “Thank you.”

And with that he left.

–

Bucky’s heart was still racing as he got back to his room at the Tower, get a grip, soldier, can’t act like a fucking teenager. And as much as he hated it, he was an avenger! He can’t- oh god.

“Buck?” Steve’s voice was muffled as he knocked on Bucky’s door before opening it. His eyes flickering to the bouquet on his night stand and back to Bucky. “Hey, that’s real nice! Flowers, told you it was a good idea”

“Shut it, punk” He muttered and pushed his face into the mattress.

“Someone’s moody,” his best friend muttered. “What’s wrong?”

The second the question left Steve’s lips, Bucky shook his head and sat up, running a hand through his hair and his expression hardened. Get a fuckibg grip, Sargeant.

“Like I said, nothing.”

It was so clear that Steve didn’r believe it. But, with how things had recently been, he didn’t wanna push it.

“Well, how was getting the flowers?”

“Good..” Bucky glanced at the flowers and immediately remembered how gentle your hands were. Placing them down strategically and quickly, but with the elegance of a dancer. “Really good.”

“.. You’re acting weird” Steve huffed with a chuckle. “C’mon, let’s go on a run, you needa clear your head up.”

Bucky nodded and stood up from the bed. He was fine with being told what to do, it was easier than having his freedom.

Easier than thinking of the cute florist.

|| FIRST PART IS POSTED! after i post all the parts i've already made, ill post a masterlist of the parts :)

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takumiraine · 6 months ago

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Once Upon a Time chapter 9

Danny is still going through it, but it gets better I promise.

Taku note: jesus fuck putting the links in on these ones was a beast. I actually had to LOG IN to tumblr on my COMPUTER. ick.

There is some texting abbreviations here. The abbreviations are: B, meaning Bruce, obviously. It is saved as just ‘B’ in his phone. R, meaning Replacement which is Tim. Tim is saved as Replacement. DB is Damian, saved as Demon Brat. D, is Dick, and is just saved as an eggplant emoji in Jason’s phone. This may or may not be relevant later.

—-

Okay. Okay. He needs a plan. He needs to think and form a plan. He needs a computer. He grabs a notebook. Scrambles around his upturned apartment until he finds a pen. Starts writing equations. The equations will solve to binary numbers. Each one a different letter. His brain is humming. He double checks his work. Triple checks it. Tears the page out.

Checks the work again.

He grabs a bit of his remaining cash. Climbs out onto his fire escape. Phases his hand through the glass to carefully reset the trap.

Move on silent feet, sticking to shadows. Hoodie on and hood over his head. Silent and fast. Alert. Find an Internet cafe. Buy an hour of computer time. Log onto the conspiracy site. Send a new private message.

Carefully type in the equations with shaking hands. Time ticks by so slowly and yet so fast. Equations come back to him. Solve. Translate. Read. Send more back. More frantic than before. They have to run. They have to hide. They cannot come here.

He received a picture of a chocolate bar in return.

They’re coming here. They’re coming. They’re coming and Danny can’t stop it. Can’t stop any of it.

He deletes the messages. Logs out of the website. Clears the history. Takes the paper. Leaves the building. Burns the paper to ash.

Hears a van. Pulls his hood further down over his head. Has to get to the observatory. That was the agreed upon meeting place. Has to get there. Has to hide.

Has to find a way to keep them safe. He’s out of practice. He doesn’t have the upper hand. He’s so scared. Scared for his friends. He gets to the observatory. It’s dark in there. Locked. Danny finds a ladder. Climbs. On the roof. The dome is solid. Cold. Damp. He sits in the shadow of the lens. He waits.

Time moved. Time stood still. Heavy cloud cover meant he couldn’t watch the passage of time in the moon and stars. That was Gotham. Last clear night or day was a long time ago. Danny couldn’t breathe.

Loud footsteps. He pressed himself deeper into the shadows.

“D…?” The voice was familiar. Danny peered out into the darkness, and saw two familiar faces.

“Tuck… Sam…” he croaked, voice raw like he had just spent hours Wailing.

“Hey Danny, good to see you.” Sam sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. The Fenton Creep Stick laid across her lap. Tucker came to join them, sitting on his other side and rifling around in his backpack. Before Danny could process it, a couple high protein granola bars and a bottle of strawberry pedialyte was put on his lap.

“Eat. Panicking burns calories and you need them.” Tucker insisted, nudging him gently. Already Danny felt the panic subsiding, leaving him exhausted. He ate the protein bars mechanically, forcing himself to focus on the taste and the feel of them between his teeth. He needed the nutrients desperately. After the protein bars were eaten, Danny chilled the bottle of strawberry drink and popped the cap off, chugging it.

“Alright. Now that you’re sort of fed and hydrated, breathe. You know I love the whole dead vibe as much as the next girl, but you’re still half human.” Sam rubbed his leg with her free hand and Tucker rubbed his back. It was soothing and almost involuntarily he took a deep breath in and out, then another, and another. He felt his mind settle. When he could finally think clearly again, he pulled them both close in a hug.

“Ancients, I’ve missed you guys…”

“Us too man. Us too,” Tucker agreed, squeezing Danny back just as tightly.

“Now, not to turn you back onto a doom spiral, but what the hell happened?” Sam asked once they pulled back from the embrace.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story. But I’ll tell you everything.” And Danny did. He started with getting enrolled in school, which they knew, because Tucker helped. Then with the cute guy that befriended him out of nowhere, and although he kept the name to himself, Sam clocked his crush almost immediately.

“It’s okay Danny, I have a radar for that. You were in love with me for how many years now?” She teased. “I am now able to spot a Danny-crush from a hundred yards.”

Tucker laughed with her and Danny groaned putting his head back in his hands. “I hate you so much sometimes…” he moaned.

“Yeah we love you too buddy.” Tucker patted him again. “Keep going with the story.”

He did. The tutoring, the meetings with red hood, and then finally, the week before and that evening. Again he left out the fact that he recognized Hood’s real identity. Sam and Tucker wouldn’t tell, but he couldn’t out another hero in good conscience. Even if they were fighting.

“Shit man.” Tucker scooted himself closer, while Sam did the same on his other side. “That was…”

“I’d rather fight Skulker and Technus together without my powers or a thermos…” he mumbled, pulling his knees to his chest and pressing his face into them.

“Okay. So here’s what we’re going to do. Tucker is going to make sure none of his trip lines have been tripped, I’m gonna make sure no creeps sneak up on us here. You’re gonna take a nap. You look like you’re about ready to drop dead again.” Danny nodded into his knees, and Tucker got out his pda and got to work.

Slowly, Danny’s breathing evened and slowed then stopped almost completely. Having his friends nearby meant he was safe. Safety meant sleep.

Jason was out looking. He started at Danny’s apartment, but he wasn’t answering, there was no sound of movement, the thermals were all ambient, so he moved on.

The longer he looked the more he realized, he barely knew anything about Danny. Danny was great at hedging around questions about himself. Turning the conversation back to Jason, or topics that were safe. The weather, the best places to get burgers, the best type of tree to climb, the best dangerous animal to be freed from the zoo. That last topic was courtesy of Damian but…

Then Jason remembered. They had been eating outside after dark. Danny had looked up at the sky and sighed, then pointed fries accusingly at Jason. “Your dad is like, richer than anyone else here right? He should really do something about all this smog. Seeing the stars at night is one of life’s great pleasures.”

“You could go to the observatory,” Jason had suggested, fairly used to Danny occasionally having ideas for Bruce’s money without any real interest in using it for himself. Always for the betterment of the city as a whole.

“That’s a last resort option. Nothing beats constellation spotting laying on a rooftop. You should be able to see Orion’s Belt over….” Danny looked up at the sky, head shifting as he oriented himself to north and then pointing “over there, somewhere.”

“Well, I’ll bring it up and see what WE has in the works for ecological initiatives.” Jason had said, taken in by how certain Danny was. He could have been bullshitting Jason, but sure enough when he looked it up later, Danny had the right idea, even if he was a few degrees off in his estimation.

Not having any better idea, Jason sped off towards the observatory.

Danny had been asleep for maybe an hour when the motorcycle was heard pulling up. Tucker turned off his modified PDA, the backlight in the screen would have given them away in a heartbeat.

Once the motorcycle turned off though, Sam woke up Danny. He woke with a silent start, looking around to see what had alarmed his friends. When he felt the familiar press of another halfa’s core he pressed a hand to each of their knees and wrote a small smiley face on them. Danny did not miss the way Sam’s grip on the creep stick tightened.

Jason didn’t immediately think anything of the observatory as he circled it. There were two hot spots on the roof that were likely just horny teenagers. He would make his loop and then head off. At least, that was the plan until he spotted the ice cold person shape between the two warmer ones.

Nobody ran that cold except Danny.

Jason stood at the base of the ladder and considered his options. He didn’t know who Danny was up there with. He didn’t know if Danny was in danger. Though the pit in him wasn’t any more riled up than it normally was. He didn’t know if Danny would throw his ass right off the roof. There wasn’t anything around here for him to grapnel onto if he was.

‘I did not know your trip into the pit made you a coward, Todd’ he could hear Damian taunt in his head.

Shaking the thought of his brother off, Jason climbed the ladder. The moment his helmet popped over the roof Danny’s eyes were fixed on him. “Go away J-Hood.”

Jason was momentarily surprised, Danny had obviously not expected him to come in costume, but corrected himself fairly flawlessly. Not outing him to the two people who were holding him protectively. Must be Sam and Tucker.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Are these your friends?” He asked, not moving any further up the ladder. Danny nodded, continuing to glare over his knees.

“Sam and Tucker. They knew me… before everything else.”

Jason nodded. Climbed up enough to get a good look. “I have a safe house nearby. Can we go there and talk?”

“Is more of your little guano group” Sam snickered at the name and Tucker gave Danny a fist bump, “going to hunt me down if I don’t?”

“No. But you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

Danny looked between his friends for a minute, before slowly uncurling and standing, helping his friends up. “Fine.”

Once they were all on the ground they walked to the safe house, a couple blocks away. Once they were inside, Jason pulled off the helmet.

“Jason Todd. Also known as Red Hood.”

He noticed Sam give Danny a look, and he made a face back at her. Tucker rolled his eyes. “You talk to the Bat?” Danny asked, rather than confront his friend.

“Yeah. But that’s not the important part. After we talked tonight Oracle noticed something. The firewall was an automatic scoop. Anything related to your parents’….hobby got thrown into a…. Technological bucket. It’s why your messages never made it to the League.”

Danny took a step back, and Sam and Tucker automatically moved closer, supporting him. “You…. Heard the messages?”

“There was video too. Of… an attack.”

“Of course those assholes were filming it.” Sam tightened her grip on the creep stick as she spoke. Danny raised a shaking hand to his face, feeling for something. His eyes had gone unfocused.

Damn it. Jason took a step forward and Danny flinched, the air going cold. “Easy D.” Tucker soothed. “You’re in Gotham. We’re gonna go sit.” Sam and Tucker bullied Danny to the couch. Tucker sat next to him, while Sam stood in front of them protectively. When she caught Jason trying to look around her she snapped to get his attention.

“Hey, Danny needs some water. About 35 degrees if you have it that cold, cold as you have otherwise.” The snapping and hyper specific orders placed her in his memory. Samantha Manson. Daughter of the Amity Mansons. They attended a few Galas when she was younger. She was very insistent on her veganism even then.

Jason wasn’t about to argue with a woman holding a bat. If Sam was anything like his brothers, she knew how to use it even before the vigilante training.

He brought Danny water, tap with a couple of ice cubes, and passed it to Tucker, who was still talking quietly to Danny. Danny was nodding and occasionally giving a thin half smile, but was able to hold the glass on his own and sip from it.

“We need a plan.” Danny said after he finished drinking.

“Batman wants to talk to you.” Jason told him, which got Danny opening his mouth to protest.

“First,” Sam interrupted, looking at Danny then at Jason, “Tucker is going to do his checks, Danny is going to sleep, and we are going to wait.”

“I don’t need to sleep.” Danny crossed his arms, protesting.

“And Dash didn’t shove you in a locker at least once a week.” Tucker’s response was combined with an eye roll. “You look like you just went a dozen rounds with Skulker without your powers. You need pizza rolls and a nap.”

“You make me sound like I’m a kindergartener.”

“I think I have pizza rolls.” Jason interrupted the protest. “I’ll kill the lights, make the brat’s pizza rolls for you and you just lay there until they’re done.”

Danny scowled at Jason for hanging up on him but as Tucker slid off the couch onto the floor in front of him, Danny obediently laid down. As Jason pulled the bag out of the freezer and started the oven heating, he watched Danny’s breathing slow down and even out, then stop altogether.

Sam followed his gaze and took Danny’s sleeping form in quickly before peering at what Tucker was doing. Seeing that the people Danny knew the longest weren’t concerned about his lack of visible breathing, Jason settled a bit, texting the family chat.

From J: so I found Danny. But he has backup now. He managed to get in contact with his friends.

From B: Are you on your way?

From J: no. He was freaking out. Right now he’s asleep on the couch and I’m making pizza rolls.

From DB: Excuse me zombie child, those happen to be mine.

From J: Better learn to share now before you learn the hard way like Dickie, Timber and I did.

From B: Jason, please.

From J: what? It’s not a lie. He’s the fourth Robin that we know about.

From DB: I am the best. I will not be replaced.

From R: idk Dami, the new kid has black hair, blue eyes and a troubled past. He’s adoption bait. Hopefully he didn’t lie about his age and really is older than you.

From D: it’s never easy having to hand over the spandex and cape to a younger more dangerous Robin.

From DB: So you admit that I am the best.

From D: no I said you were younger and more dangerous than we were as Robin. Except for maybe Jay. He liked to bite criminals.

From J: hey! They were the idiots who put their hands near my face. I grew up hungry. You eat what you can.

From B: Before this gets more out of hand, Jason, do you know about when you will be arriving?

From J: probably going to leave here in 45 minutes to an hour. I will let you know.

Jason was going to take his time cooking those pizza rolls correctly. He wasn’t going to let them ooze out everywhere, then they would have to cool so when Danny inevitably wolfed them down he wouldn’t scorch his mouth. Allow for some wake up time…

Jason was completely, and understandably in his opinion, giving Danny as much time before the meet the family scene happened. The guy had been through enough.

#writing #fanfiction #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #jason todd #red hood #batfam #dead on main #dp dc crossover

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siancore · 3 months ago

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I work in a really demanding social work job that focuses on vulnerable folks with complex trauma. The things I see and hear on a daily basis can be overwhelming and sometimes triggering. I have lived experience with mental illness so I have to always be cognisant of managing my mental health care plan and looking after myself.

The other week, my therapist reiterated that having something that I enjoy just for myself is good for my mental health. They ended our session by saying, “Enjoy your Captain America stuff.”

And I was like, “Thank you. I will.” 😊

Where I work, which is a new job, other practitioners gave me advice around setting up my work space with things that absolutely bring me joy because the things we deal with daily can be challenging to downright horrific. I chose to set up my beloved characters on my desk.

A colleague from an external organisation came in to my work for a consult, and asked me, “Did you see that movie you were looking forward to?”

Me, forgetting that I mentioned it to them weeks before because trauma brain, asked, “Which movie?”

My colleague gestured to my desk with my Sam statue and other figurines, and said, “The one with all your little people.”

I smiled and laughed and told them how awesome Cap 4 was; they told me they’re going to take their kid to see it 🙂

I forget that sometimes people in my real life know how much I love the character of Sam Wilson. I mentioned him and Cap 4 to these folks once, and they remembered because it brought the joy out on my face even though things are tough and I work in a really tough space. Enjoying my little people AKA my characters, namely Sam Wilson brings me so much joy. Thanks to all the mutuals and other fans here who make my fandom experience a joyful one.

Here’s my desk in case anyone was wondering and hadn’t seen it when I posted before:

#sam wilson #captain america

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amethystarachnid · 7 months ago

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BUCKY BARNES AS A GIRL DAD - a drabble

Everyone stop what you're doing and imagine Bucky Barnes as a girl dad.

When you first tell him that you're pregnant he's shocked because of all the experiments HYDRA did on him he thought he couldn't have kids

Then he's shocked because he realizes he's going to be a dad. He. A killer, the man who killed thousands of people.

He's terrified by the thought of not being a good dad so you have to convince him he's going to be a great dad because he's not the winter soldier anymore, he's just Bucky. The love of your life.

Starts studying pregnancy books like he has an exam on them. believe me when I say that this man could have a degree by the end of the nine months.

Baby Shower. He really didn't care if the baby in your belly was a boy or a girl but when he saw the pink cream inside the cake he felt his heart skip a beat. A little girl, oh how much he hoped for her to look just like you.

Built the nursery from scratch, painted it al pink with little stars on the ceiling.

I think he would like the name Estelle and if you'd agree that would be the little girl's name.

When you go into labour this man freaks out, he has seen lots of things in his life but seeing you in pain while giving birth made him feel guilty for putting a baby in you.

When he holds her for the first time he's scared to hurt her, maybe his metallic arm is too hard for her little head to rest on? Is his metallic hand too cold on her little face?

He's completely smitten by her, she's not even two days old when she has him wrapped around her little chubby fingers.

When he noticed that she has his blue eyes he was on the verge of crying.

How could a monster like him make such a perfect little angel?

As soon as Estelle starts babbling he has his phone out to record everything. He just wants to remember those little moments forever.

When she starts walking and can actually play he spends his days playing with her: with a ball, with dolls, with the toy kitchen, with her on his shoulders.

When Estelle says 'Dada' for the first time this man is in tears repeating 'my baby girl called me dada, I'm her dada..."

Once she can talk she gives nicknames to everyone, Steve is Uncle Cap, Sam is Uncle Birdie, Tony is Uncle Iron, Natasha is Aunt red (because of her hair).

Bucky totally plays princess tea party with her, in a tutu and with a full face of toy make up.

"Uncle Cap and Uncle Birdie, come play tea with me and Daddy!" Estelle would say.

Steve would agree immediately while Sam needed an harsh look from Bucky.

First day of kindergarten? Estelle is happily going inside the new classroom, happy to make new friends while Bucky is in tears.

"She didn't give me a goodbye kiss..."

She wants to take dance lessons? They're paid.

She wants to swim? He's already on his way to buy a swimsuit.

Bucky would let her choose the sport she wants but she has to take self defense lessons too, maybe taught by Natasha.

The first boy that breaks her heart has a broken arm and probably some trauma. (I'm joking...am I?)

Estelle is pretty free to go out but she has to tell him in advance just to let him know.

When she leaves for college he helps her move out and tells her to kick a boy between the legs if they treat her bad. Or simply give a call to him and he would run to her.

Probably with Steve right behind him.

Damn this was long, sorry but I love soft Bucky, my man deceivers happiness after everything he went through :(

Would you like me to do this but with the other Avengers / x-Men? You can also make requests if you want!

Check out my masterlist! <3

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tldrthor · 5 months ago

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The Princess (ATCSBWH): Part III

Summary: A training session with the Captain, Bucky and Sam goes wrong for the princess. She grows more tired by the day. Unwelcome guests arrive, and mess up Tony's lawn.

Part 3 // Attention. The perimeter has been breached. // word count: 2.5k

part one | part two | my masterlist

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"It's been way too long since we've had a job." Bucky stated matter-of-factly. Sam hummed in response, taking a sip from his coffee. Cap wasn’t entirely sure why they were sitting in the office while he had work to do, considering the two of them very rarely did any of the paperwork they were supposed to. He didn’t mind picking up the slack, but they were very distracting. He was already working double time to try and make it through the ever-growing stack before it got completely unmanageable.

He didn't look up from the desk, rolling his eyes. "It's been too long since you've had a job, Buck. I've had plenty to do."

Bucky huffed and exchanged a look with Sam. "You're behind because you've been spending a lot of time with you-know-who."

“Man’s got a point,” chimed Sam. “You’ve not been doing your paperwork, and you’ve been neglecting us. We haven’t trained all together since before (y/n)’s arrival.” His tone was joking, but Steve could tell there was a hint hidden within the joke. The captain’s eyes snapped up in a playful warning glance to his friend. "I've been helping to get the Princess settled in and nothing more, if that's what you're implying. That is part of my job."

Sam and Bucky both scoffed. "Yeah, like wandering around the lake and chatting for hours at a time is a chore. Tell it to Peter, who you ‘settled in’ by making him train every day.”

“You’ve gone soft, Stevie.” Bucky teased.

Steve smirked and shook his head. “Fine, let’s train later today. I’ll invite the princess, see if she wants to join.”

Both men seemed happy at the compromise.

“Now, guys. I’ve got so much to do, please go and bother someone else. I think I saw Parker coming back from school, why don’t you go hassle him?”

The two guys exchanged a glance, shrugged, and nodded at each other. “Sounds good.” And they were gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dark water of the lake was rejuvenating. If she closed her eyes, it was almost like she was back on Alfheim, in the crystal waters of the palace pools. The biting cold helped rest her racing mind.

As she floated, eyes closed, delicate raindrops tickled her legs and arms. The wind whipped around her, it’s cold embrace wholly welcomed. She thought of home. Of her family. Of the fact that she was now back alongside the lost love of nearly a century ago.

As she felt the sadness creep into her mind, she realised that she was sore. Her body ached and the bags under her eyes grew by the day. She found as she sat with the others watching films or listening to music, she drifted into a deeper and deeper sleep each time. She feared the Alfsleep was coming for her… It made sense. The last few months had been nothing short of nightmarish. Her hand unconsciously moved to the stab wound on her collarbone as she recounted the attack of that night, and her escape to Asgard.

Steve watched her from the side, not wanting to disturb her peace but wanting to invite her to train with them. From what Thor had said, she had fought in battles with her people's military, and was a prolific warrior. Thor had also called her a magician, and Steve almost didn't want to know what that meant.

"Princess!" He called.

She didn't hear him, continuing to float. He splashed his hand into the water, hoping that her enhanced hearing would pick up the disturbance in the water.

It worked. She startled, her head lifting from the water. Her features softened as her eyes landed on him.

He smiled, softly, his eyes crinkling. She loved that smile – a boyish charm that greatly reminded her of her Steve, from before. The boy who went into the ice.

The memory of that day burned across her memory like a hot poker. She pushed it down.

She moved through the water towards him like something akin to a nymph, a spirit of the water. It was almost as if the water parted for her, she barely made any ripples at all as she moved.

"Good morning, Captain." She greeted him, as he held a hand out to help her onto the dock. She shivered slightly upon leaving the water, quickly covering herself with her towel.

"Good swim?" He asked.

She pulled her coverup over her head, slipping on her sandals to walk back to the living quarters. "It was lovely, thank you." There was a sadness to the kind smile she offered him, that Steve found himself frowning at. He didn't pry.

"Good, good.” He examined her features, finding no answers in them. He continued; “Buck and Sam want to do some training today since it's been a while since we've had a job, I was wondering if you would like to join?" They walked together step by step.

"I would love to join." She smiled. To be honest, she was so tired. She wasn't sure she would perform her best, or even really had the energy for it, but she would never be so rude as to deny an invitation made in earnest.

They wandered back to the facility, mostly small talking about the weather, and how their mornings had been. Steve commented on the fact she had gone to bed very early the night previous, and asked if she was feeling any better. She nodded politely. It was a lie.

"Well, I'll let you get ready. Join us in gym two when you're done?"

She bowed her head politely, and turned to get changed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sight she saw upon entering the gym was quizzical. Sam opened and closed his hand, shaking it as if injured. Bucky held his top up, in order to show his abs. Steve stood with an incredulous look, clearly disapproving of the two’s activities.

(Y/n) tilted her head in confusion.

“I told you, that’s abs of steel.” Bucky laughed as Sam cursed and continued to inspect his hand, as if broken. As soon as they noticed the princess in the doorway, Sam straightened his back and stopped waving his hand in the air. Bucky dropped his t-shirt, but laughed at Sam’s sudden change in demeanour.

“Oh, hey Princess. I didn’t see you there.” Sam smiled sweetly.

Bucky laughed, “Yeah, obviously.” He turned to her; “You ready to train?”

Steve stepped up upon the princess nodding to Bucky’s question; “I’ll spar with (y/n) first.”

The princess noted that he was using her real name, rather than just ‘princess’ more and more now. It made her happy, more settled here. Plus, she wasn’t sure if there was even a planet for her to rule over now. She couldn’t think that way.

She stepped into the ring, the ropes kindly held open by Sam.

“We’ll go easy first, okay?” The captain kindly offered.

The princess smiled, a radiant smile that made Steve’s face blush almost imperceptibly. Almost. “I don’t need you to go easy on me, Captain.” They laughed together.

“Okay, go.” Bucky and Sam watched on as neither of them wanted to make the first move. They both held their hands in defensive positions, circling. Each had their eyes narrowed on their opponent, observing every change in musculature, every breath the other made.

Sam hadn’t fully believed the stories Steve and Bucky had told him about this young woman taking down entire squadrons on her own, but in the way she moved, she resembled a viper.

She struck. A blur towards him, going for his mostly unguarded torso. He blocked her, barely. Both Sam and Bucky suddenly realised this was not going to be as straightforward as they thought.

“Okay…” Steve muttered. He made his first offensive move, a slower-than-normal right hook towards her shoulder. She not only blocked, but used the momentum from blocking to flow into her opposite shoulder, and land a pretty heavy hit on his side.

“Woah.” Commentary from the sidelines was unheard by either of the sparring pair.

A blow from the princess, blocked. A retaliation from the Captain, dodged. It went on like this for a while, neither having enough fire to really finish the fight.

Attack. Dodge. Kick. Punch. Block. Hit. Dodge. Move.

The princess faked to the right, blocked an incoming right-hook, sank to the floor and swept his leg out from under him. He hit the deck with a hearty oof, lying on his back. The princess stood over him, her chest rising quickly up and down, her face glowing.

She spoke quietly: “If we were truly fighting, my dagger would be at your throat.”

Steve wouldn’t admit out loud that the way she said it gave him goosebumps.

“Damn, that’s cold.” Sam uttered quietly. Both men giggled at Steve’s perplexed look.

(Y/n) held out her hand, and helped her partner up. “You got me.” Steve smiled politely.

“Come on now, Captain. I know you pulled your punches. Fight me seriously.”

He tentatively agreed, readying himself again.

Sam called the start of the fight. They began quicker this time, Cap trying to do as he was told, and fight seriously. He swung for her side, landing the blow. It was a little harder than he had meant to.

“Oh god, I’m sorry –” before he could finish his sentence, she landed a rough kick to his side and sent him off kilter.

“Do you apologise on the battlefield, Captain?” She teased as she moved around him. Everything was happening so fast.

They were landing more hits this time, blocking less efficiently in a more offensive fight than the last. She hit hard, and moved in such an unpredictable manner that Cap found it rather difficult to tell where she was going next. It was a fighting style that reminded Steve of his training sessions with the Asgardians.

He landed a blow to her hip, going low to try and gain more ground and block her onslaught of well-timed and executed hits and kicks. It worked, she gasped and took a step back. He saw an opening.

As his fist met her collarbone, she cried out.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. He thought. He had completely forgotten about her stab-wound right where he had landed that blow. You idiot. You've hurt her.

The princess’ knees buckled from the pain as he rushed forward to catch her. Bucky and Sam moved inside the ring as well as soon as they registered what was happening.

“Princess, I am so sorry. I forgot about your wound.” Cap sat her on a stool passed to him by Bucky. The princess was much more pallid than before, resembling nearly a shade of green.

“It’s alright, Captain. Please don’t worry about it.” She said through gritted teeth, her hand not leaving her wound. Blood red soaked her flowy shirt like ink.

“(Y/n), you’re bleeding quite a lot. I think we should get you to medical.” Sam, snapping into responsible mode, picked up one of the clean towels and pressed it firmly to her wound. Steve took her other arm, and they gently led her to the medical wing.

Steve didn’t think he had ever hated himself more than he did now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So you’re all restitched and ready to go.” Dr. Cho smiled, rapidly pressing the keyboard on her tablet. “But no more training, okay?”

The princess nodded in promise, and the captain winced shamefully.

Turning to him, the princess spoke; “I’m sorry I ruined your training session, Captain.”

“No! No, it was me. I completely forgot you were stabbed a couple of weeks ago. I got too caught up in the fight. I’m sorry.”

“Then I suppose we are both sorry.” She smiled at him. He smiled back. “Would you mind escorting me back to my chambers? The beeping from the machines is incredibly loud.”

He hadn’t even noticed the gentle noise coming from the various pieces of equipment around them, but he nodded and obliged, helping her up. He stabilised her with the arm that hadn’t been put in a sling. Dr. Cho had taken to completely immobilising even the smaller wounds as she had discovered that it helped remind the Avengers that they were not to move.

It would be indecent of him to admit that, actually, the feeling of her skin on his skin sent electricity running through his veins. A memory flashed across his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His heart fluttered as they entered the bar. He watched, entranced, as she appeared from behind Agent Carter.

Her hair was pinned perfectly, her otherworldly glow radiating from her wonderful smile. She wore a gorgeous, flowy dress that on anyone else would be unstylish. But on her, it was perfect.

"God, you're smitten!" Bucky watched the way Steve's face never moved from the girl who had just walked in. Steve had had crushes before, sure, but this was something else.

"Yeah, I am." He smiled.

And what's worse is he could see it in the dame's face too.

"Hi." She breathed, a nervous aura surrounding her shining smile. He, ever the gentleman, offered to take her coat, and gently hung it up at the door.

"Bucky, this is Agent (y/l/n)." Bucky smiled and said hi politely, turning on his usual charm. "And this is Agent Carter." Steve introduced both of them.

"Call me (y/n)." The first woman shook his hand. The other said hello, and quickly ordered a drink and left to sit down with the commandos.

"Nice to meet you, (y/n)." He raised a glass to her, and then left the lovebirds to their business.

The band struck up in a wonderfully jazzy song. The bar cheered, the howling commandos joining in with the lyrics. They clinked their drinks together, and shared a drink, before setting them back down on the bar.

Steve leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"Would you like to dance?"

"Yes, please." She replied.

When she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he wrapped his around her waist, he thought it would feel awkward. He thought it would require getting used to. But it was the most natural feeling in the world. Like this, this moment, was where he was always supposed to be. If the string of fate existed, he had reached it's origin. Her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure you want to go to your room? I would rather you be somewhere we can keep an eye on you.” Steve spoke more assertively than he had with her since her arrival.

“I am very tired, Captain. I promise I will be more than okay, Dr. Cho has fixed the stitches that were ruptured. I will report to you first thing tomorrow, you have my word.”

He tensed his jaw in deliberation, but eventually agreed. “Okay, but please tell FRIDAY to fetch one of us if you need anything.”

“Of course, Captain. Good night.” She bowed her head in curtsy, entering her bedroom and closing the door behind her. After a few, long seconds, she heard his footsteps echo down the hall.

She breathed out a long, shaky breath. The darkness on the edges of her vision started to creep inwards, the all-too-familiar feeling taking over her every muscle. Although she had only done this once, she knew exactly what was happening.

The Alfsleep.

“No…” She whispered to nobody, landing on the floor. Her vision faded and her breathing slowed, knowing it was futile to resist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How is she?” Bucky asked as Steve entered the kitchen, a forlorn and guilty look on his face. He walked over to the fridge, took out some milk, and drank it straight from the bottle. He ignored Tony and Natasha’s exclaims of gross!

He placed the milk back in the fridge, and perched himself on one of the bar stools. “She’s okay, I think. Hurt. She seemed really tired, and I’m a little concerned, but when I tried to get her to be somewhere we could watch her, but she just wanted to go to bed.”

Buck and Sam nodded sympathetically to their friend.

“She’s been through a lot. Maybe she just needs space.” Sam offered helpfully. “Come on, that show you like to watch has released a new episode. We can watch it to get your mind off of it.”

Steve shuffled to the couch, slumping on to it with a defeated posture. Guilt was tearing at him, and Buck especially could tell. He squeezed his friend's shoulder in support, knowing that words wouldn’t help the storm in his brain right now.

Their peace was quickly disrupted by a siren and red, flashing lights..

Attention. The perimeter has been breached. Attention. The perimeter has been breached.

Each of them jumped into action, pulling concealed weapons from around the room and sprinting towards the armoury. Tony grabbed a tablet and projected the security footage into the room.

“Bucky, come with me. We have to protect the princess.” Cap ordered, immediately assuming the role of leader, as the others headed to investigate the breach and gear up. “Sam, bring our weapons and meet us at (y/n)’s room when you can.”

Sam nodded, as Bucky and Steve took off towards the princesses bedroom.

“Oh, shit.” Tony remarked, eyes glancing back and forth across the screen.

Three, dark spaceships, landed menacingly on the lawn. And a small army of Dark Elves in front of them. All out for the Princess' blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I'm so sorry this took so long, I've been really busy at university. Now that it's the holidays I'm going to try and get a few chapters of this story out before I go back to school in January!

As always, constructive feedback is super appreciated, I'm always trying to learn and improve. Even if you have any ideas for where the story could go, or any scenes! My anon asks are open should this be a preferred method of communication <3

Sorry for the long message!

TAGLIST

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Thank you guys for your support! As always let me know if you want to be removed from my taglist <3 x

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magicalqueennightmare · 2 months ago

Text

First Date

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Nicknamed Belle)

You and Bucky have your first date

After the cleanup from Marlowe life got back to normal fairly quickly. As a matter of fact the only new occurrence was a few elderly people you knew had asked a time or two if Bucky was your “fella” as they put it. Every time you’d feel your face warm and would shake your head. He was just your friend.

“You know he is one hundred and nine” Sarah told you as you and her walked down the docks towards the boat. You nodded “I know that” she cut her eyes at you with a grin “He was drafted into the war in the forties then from there being kidnapped and brainwashed by Hydra the man isn’t really up to date on dating culture” you raised an eyebrow “Sarah, what are you on about?” she grinned “Why don’t and here me out here Belle..why don’t you ask him out?”

You shook your head “Nope, nu uh” she groaned “Why not? I see the way you look at him!” you ducked your head “We’re just friends” she scoffed “I’ve watched that super soldier almost snap his neck because he heard your laugh and wanted to see why you were laughing but yeah keep telling yourself that” “And if it doesn’t work out with him and Sam pretty much being partners?” you asked and she shrugged “And what happens if it does? What happens if something good comes out of it? Look what happened during the storm. You were scared and sought comfort in him, never realizing that by doing so you were giving him the comfort he needed and didn’t know how to ask for. Do you realize how unbelievably sweet that is?”

“I really like Bucky but..” she cut you off “But what! Belle he isn’t some asshole! He’s a good man, even if Sam gives him hell it’s because he likes him. You know that’s saying something” you grinned “Ma’am lets just go clean the boat like we intended. We’ll tackle my love life or lack there of later”

You locked up the general store and headed out to your jeep. The boys were out of school today so you hadn’t picked them up for Sarah. You were going to go by her house and see if she needed anything before heading home.

____________________

You turned down her driveway and was surprised to see Sam’s truck parked next to her car. He wasn’t supposed to be back from this most recent mission for another two days. You hoped that was a good thing that it wrapped early and not a bad thing.

You parked behind his truck and got out of your jeep, slamming the door to make sure it was closed. A couple days before you hadn’t slammed it all the way when you’d gone home and a family of raccoons had attempted to bed down in the backseat by the next morning.

When you walked up onto the porch you could hear Sam’s voice and your heart flipped when you heard Bucky’s too. You figured he would have gone home to D.C. not back here. You tapped on the door as you were opening. “Sarah, honey I’m home!”

“Kitchen!” she called out and you walked around the corner to see her standing at the island while Sam and Bucky both sat at it. You could tell just from their posture they were both hurt. “How bad?” you asked and Sam turned. He had some butterfly stitches and a bruise blossoming on his cheek. “Anything I can’t see?” he flinched “Side is sore but they said my ribs are fine” you shook your head “Cap, you don’t have the serum” he grinned and nodded towards Bucky “He still caught it even with the serum”

Your eyes flew towards Bucky and they got big. He had a slice across his nose, what looked like a line of staples in his hairline and a large bruise covering half his jaw and was favoring his right side. “What the hell?” you dropped your bag on the counter and went to his side. You gently took his chin in your hand, turning his head to look at it “What did you fight? The fucking hulk?”

“Red one” Sam clarified and you looked back over at him and slowly nodded “Christ have mercy. Ok” then looked back at Bucky “I thought the serum was supposed to make you hard to hurt” he was staring at you while you lightly traced the bruise on his jaw “It is doll. I’ll be fine in a day or two. Why do you think I look like this and he looks like that? I try to take the harder hits”

You felt your heart jump at that. He took the harder hits because he knew he had the serum and Sam didn’t. He risked his body to keep Sam safe. “Bucky” you whispered and he smiled slightly “I’m ok Belle, promise” Sam laughed “I think he got hurt on purpose just to get you looking at him like that”

You cut your eyes at Sam and he winked at you. You shook your head “Well your medic did a shit. Your staples still have blood in them. Hold still and I’ll get the first aid kit and clean it up. Super soldier or not infections aren’t fun” Bucky nodded.

Sarah passed you the first aid kit as she handed Sam his pain meds. Bucky couldn’t be prescribed anything due to his metabolism, he’d just burn off anything short of iv morphine. Sarah and Sam started talking while you moved to stand between Bucky’s legs where he sat on the bar stool. “This may be cold” you cautioned and he nodded “It’ll be fine”

You leaned up, bracing your left hand on his shoulder to keep your balance as you gently cleaned the blood from in between his staples. “Not that I’m complaining but why are you back in Louisiana instead of home in D.C. or New York?” you asked and he cut his eyes up at you “Neither of those places really feel like home” and you felt your face warm. You finished cleaning his head then looked back at him “Bucky?” he smiled “Yeah doll?”

“Do you think you may possibly want to go out with me sometime? Like on a date?” your heart was pounding in your ears by that point and both Sarah and Sam had also chosen that moment to go silent and add to it. “What?” he asked, a small smile slipping onto his face. You shrugged “I mean if you don’t want to that’s fine but..” “He does!” Sam damn near hollered.

You and Bucky both looked at him and he shrugged “I am so sick of hearing oh Belle so beautiful, Belle so sweet, Belle so this…Yes he wants to go out with you” Sarah smacked him behind the head then pulled him off the barstool “And at that I’m taking him to the living room and give you two a moment to talk” you laughed as Sarah pulled Sam out of the room then turned back around to look at Bucky who was already staring at you “He is right ya know”

You laughed “Well in that case, are you gonna be in town day after tomorrow?” he nodded “Definitely” “Then just let me handle it Barnes” he raised an eyebrow “Now, it’s been a while but doesn’t the man handle the date?” you leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek “Not anymore Bucky. Us women can do it nowadays. Just trust me”

He had a light blush gracing his cheeks when you looked back at him and it made your heart flip because this was a man capable of fighting demigods, aliens and everything in between. A man that had gone through over seventy years of hell and had come out the other side and he just blushed from you kissing his cheek. “I’m gonna go say goodnight to the boys then head home. I’ll see you day after tomorrow if not before, ok?” he nodded “Ok”

You totally were not on the verge of cancelling your date with Bucky because you’d had time to think about it and was second guessing everything from what you’d planned to do, how you’d planned to wear your hair and what you planned to wear. You’d avoided him the following day after asking him, using the fact that it was thursday and you had stuff to do at the general store and since the boys were out of school you’d taken Cass with you to make it a little easier on Sarah.

Now it was Friday and you felt like an idiot. “Don’t do this” Sarah cautioned as you stared at your phone. It was up to Bucky’s number. “Why?” she pushed off the wall where she’d been standing to watch your melt down “Because that man has lived through hell and if half of what Sam has said is true he really likes you Belle. Don’t let insecurities stop you from finding happiness. I’ve seen you with him. You’re smiling and laughing. You fell asleep during a hurricane, during a blackout! You have never done that! You did it because you were up against him! He makes you feel safe and happy. That is a rare combination”

You sighed “I just feel silly. I mean, a picnic at the waterfront?” she grinned “He’ll love it and this damn baby blue sundress you picked out?” she made a motion with her finger for you to do a spin and when you did she laughed lightly “I hope his heart is strong because it would be hell for you to kill that old man on the first date” you felt your face warm “I do really like him” she nodded “Then finish getting ready, go back to my house where he’s waiting and take him on the damn date you spent the last two days planning!”

___________________________

“Calm down man” Sam had told Bucky that maybe four times already. “Maybe she changed her mind?” he’d been stressed since you called Sarah and she left about an hour beforehand and neither of you had made it back, especially considering your place was three minutes by car.

“She did not change her mind. She looks like roger rabbit with the big heart eyes popping out every time she sees you. Belle has dated, she has exes but she’s never been like that with anyone. For some reason she likes you enough that she feels safe to show her entire personality. She’s been herself with you like she’s only ever been with me and Sarah, so that says a lot. So quit whining. They’ll be back soon. Where the hell is that swag Steve always used to swear you had? All I’m seeing is you acting like a whipped puppy”

About the time Sam got through talking they heard two vehicles pull up followed by the telltale sign that it was you when they heard the slamming of your jeep door. Sam waved a hand “There ya go beast, beauty has arrived” and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Bucky, I’m sorry I’m late” you hollered as you came through the front door and stopped the moment you did. Damn you looked gorgeous. Your hair was down loose, you had a baby blue sundress on that hugged your curves in a way that made parts of his brain turn on that he was fairly certain had been turned off for years and god when you smiled at him? He’d do anything you asked of him for one of those smiles. “You look good” you told him and he laughed “You look amazing”

Sarah shook her head “And you two have got to get going”

_____________________

Those same insecurities flashed through your head. How the hell did he look that good in just jeans, a shirt and a black leather jacket? You wanted to pull the sweater you’d thrown on over your dress tighter around you just looking at him.

Then when he told you that you looked amazing? You were fairly certain you melted on the damn floor. You didn’t know what it was about Mr James Buchanan Barnes but you knew why you’d never been able to make it work with any of your exes if he was making you feel like this just going on a first date. “Let’s get going,” you whispered.

You parked at the docks and cut your eyes at Bucky “Promise not to laugh at me?” “Why would I laugh at you Belle?”

You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth and nodded to the backseat before saying “I packed a picnic and thought we could just have it here at the waterfront because we both seem relaxed here and I didn’t think you would be too comfortable in a crowded restaurant or movie theater with other people and now that I’m saying it outloud I’m feeling dumber by the moment and now you’re staring at me like I’ve lost my mind…”

You were cut off by his right hand gently grabbing your chin right before his lips met yours. The kiss was gentle, tentative but damn it took your breath away. When he pulled away you smiled “Wow” he laughed lightly “Guess I haven’t completely lost my touch then”

You shook your head “I’d say not but what was that for?” he motioned to the water “For doing this for me. You thought about me, thought about doing something to spend time with me and took my comfort level into it. Thank you doll” you nodded slowly “Of course” he smiled and pressed another kiss to your lips. When he pulled away he gently traced the side of your face with his fingers “You’re so damn beautiful”

You laughed breathlessly “You’re not so bad yourself there Barnes” a light blush graced his cheeks “I’ll carry the food. Show me where we’re going”

Somehow after the two of you had eaten you’d ended up curled up against Bucky’s side, both of you just watching the water. He had his arm around you and when you shivered lightly he glanced down “Do you want to get doing sweetheart? I don’t want you getting sick” you shook your head “I want to stay a little longer, please”

He nodded “Lean up, just a minute” you leaned up and he pulled his leather jacket off and slipped it over your shoulders. It smelled just like him, the aftershave he used working its way around you like a hug. You nuzzled into the jacket and he smiled “That better?” you nodded “What about you?” he shrugged “Serum doll. I run hot” you raised an eyebrow “Well I know you’re hot no need to announce it”

He started laughing “You really are something doll” you grinned and tucked yourself back into his side “I really like you Bucky” he kissed the top of your head “Good, because I really like you too”

____________________

You pulled up to Sarah’s and walked up on the porch with Bucky. He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck “This is kind of backwards to what I’m used to, gotta admit” you shrugged “Is that bad?” he shook his head “No, just different” you stepped closer to him, putting your hands on his chest as his hands went to your hips.

His right hand came up to brush your hair back from your face “So um, are you my girl Belle?” you nodded with a small smile “I’d like to be. That make you my guy then?” he nodded “If you want me” “Of course I do” you replied.

His eyes went from your eyes to your lips back up so you laughed “Bucky, being your girl means you can pretty much kiss me whenever you want” he grinned “Yes ma’am” and leaned down to brush his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle but claiming, making your head spin. Damn could he kiss. When he pulled away you swallowed hard before saying “Are you sure you want me?” he raised an eyebrow “Are you just trying to get me to kiss you again doll?” you grinned “Well I mean you are one helluva kisser” he laughed “Then just ask” and crashed his lips against yours.

The porch light flashing back you both separate. You looked over to see Sam in the window wagging his finger. You shook your head with a laugh and waved then turned back to Bucky “I’ll see you tomorrow if you’re still here?” he nodded “Can I call you to see you before I leave if we have to?” you smiled “I’d like that” and leaned up to press another quick kiss to his lips before walking down the doorsteps.

Bucky waited on the porch until you were in your jeep and backing up before he went inside. You couldn’t stop smiling. You really freaking liked Bucky.

__________________

Bucky walked inside and Sam was leaning against the wall “Making out on the front porch. Really man?” Bucky glared at him and he grinned “So you and Belle huh? Beauty and the beast right in front of my eyes”

Bucky shook his head “Look Sam, I know she’s pretty much your sister but know I like her. I really do” Sam smiled “I know man. I got eyes. Just treat her good. All I ask. She’ll be home in about five minutes. Call her and tell her goodnight” Bucky nodded “Ok”

___________________

You had just made it inside your place and locked the door when your phone rang. You glanced down to see Bucky’s name so you answered it. “Well hello Mr Barnes” “Hey doll, you make it home safe?” you laughed lightly “I’m home and the door is locked” “Good, I had a good time tonight Belle. I’ll see you tomorrow” “Ok Bucky. Sweet dreams” “You too”

You told each other goodbye and hung up. You practically squealed before realizing you were still wearing Bucky’s jacket. You’d give it back to him tomorrow. He hadn’t mentioned it but you knew he’d want it mainly for the cover of his left arm. Bucky was your boyfriend. Yeah maybe you did squeal at that thought, just a little.

@desimarie12

@julesandgems

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you

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