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wexhappyxfew · 6 months ago

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“Don’t leave my sight again” for Kennedy and Bucky! Only if you want! I love your writing! <3

HI SWEET ANON!!!!! thank you so so much for popping this in the askbox and for the love on my writing! it means SO MUCH!! i had a lot of fun with this one - we went in a direction i wanted to explore a bit more with the kennedy x bucky dynamic, especially their ever-present bickering about sports with their (respective) red sox and yankees, hehe. i really enjoyed this prompt because i could still utilize the dynamic i wanted, but inject the prompt into the writing in a way that was more heartfelt and meaningful than anything, so, please enjoy!! :D

lips itching to grin

(a/n): kennedy x bucky girlies, we're back and better than ever and focusing on the early days again with these two, specifically in the ever-present baseball rivalry (with a side of heartfelt and slightly flirty banter that neither side may or may have not predicted.....). ps: there's a whole lot of baseball references in here along with a deep dive into the red sox and yankees baseball almanac of 1942 players, as (to preface) they discuss a yankees x red sox game from 1942, with some of their own perspectives (though we enter the conversation in the middle lol). please enjoy!!! <3333

"Alright, well, runners on first and second, game-tying run at second, bottom of the 5th," Kennedy started, as she watched Paulina offer one of the newer replacements a dance as Billie Holiday sung with those swing trumpets over their heads, "you got Joe DiMaggio coming up with two outs. Dick Newsome's already at 78 pitches."

"Easy," Bucky offers as Paulina and the replacement move out towards the center of the floor and start dancing - Kennedy likes seeing her smile, "DiMaggio hits an RBI double and makes it to second base. Then you ain't even tied up anymore. Score's 4-3."

"But," Kennedy started, glancing upwards at him with a look as she tilted her head, a smile on her cheeks, "you got Charlie Keller up next. Getting to that point in your roster where it gets a little….hairy."

"Says the one with Joe Cronin on your-"

"Focus." Kennedy said snapping in front of his face, bringing a smirk onto his lips as he looked back at her, "We're talking about the fucking Yankees right now, Bucky."

"Don't call them the fucking Yankees."

"They're the fucking Yankees to me, got it?" she said and she watched Bucky turn from his position leaned up backwards against the bar to actually facing her, "What?"

"You get really passionate about your Red Sox, huh?" he said, leaning his hand up against the side of his face and watching her, "I'd hate to mess with you-"

"You already have." she told him in a sing-song voice as she turned and took a sip of her beer and looked out to the dance floor again, "Try growing up as the only girl in a house full of brothers. You either play baseball or you are the baseball, I'm afraid." Bucky snickered at that and sipped his own drink - bourbon maybe, she could smell it on his lips from here.

"What the hell kinda baseball did the Farley brothers play?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Clearly not that great of baseball, you're all Red Sox fans."

"Says the one who willingly became a Yankees fan."

"Willingly-"

"At least I grew up in the area! It makes sense!"

"Can't knock me, Yankees' got a fan all the way from Wisconisn - can't say the same about other teams now, huh?" Bucky said leaning towards her with a grin, "Gotcha there, huh?" Kennedy watched him.

"Bill Dickey comes up and goes out swinging," Kennedy said, staring him down, "Red Ruffing's taken outta the game. Atley Donald's up on the mound. Johnny Pesky's up to bat. Donald walks him. Tony Lupien comes up - an absolute bomb outta the field. Rest of the game is a no-go. Red Sox win. 6-4."

"For someone who despises the Yankees, you sure do know a whole lot about them." Bucky said, sipping his drink again, "It's cute. You trying to impress me with that Yankees stuff."

"I just know a whole lot about games where my Red Sox win," Kennedy mouthed back, the tops of her cheeks burning, "you'd know if I was trying to impress you."

"When's that happened?"

"Never."

"Huh."

"Exactly." she said, sending him a look and he smirked again, his eyes watching her in that manner they always seemed to, "What's that look for?"

"What'd you usually play?" he asked her, that lazy grin growing on his face, "C'mon, I know you were probably in a group of kids that got together to play. What were ya? No….let me guess. First base, you're pretty tall." She stared at him and raised a brow. "No?"

"What about this," she started, standing up straight and holding out her arms, "screams first base, huh?"

"Fine. Shortstop. Speedy, quick-witted-"

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Don't get in over your head."

"Continue…." Kennedy said with a smirk.

"Shortstop." Bucky said, "Final answer."

"Ding-ding, you're correct," she said with a smile, "usually my older brother and I fought over that position. He usually gave in."

"You were convincing enough." Bucky said, sipping his drink again.

"I was better than him." she offered back, catching that look on his face, "What, like it's hard to believe?"

"Nah, nah," Bucky said shaking his head back and forth and grinning, before avoiding her questioning entirely, "you like hitting?"

"Usually was middle of the pack, sometimes cleanup, I flip-flopped." she said with a winning smirk, "Wasn't often I got cleanup though, my older brother, he's a fucking giant, like 6 foot 5 or something - Bobby - he usually could drive in any and all runners. Sometimes he let me in the spot. It was usually some stupid fight we'd have, but he'd let me have my ways sometimes. Which was nice." Bucky grinned at her again and she couldn't tell whether that was just how he decided to look at people or if there was something else going on behind those eyes and that smile. But she just left it for the time being and took to sipping her drink again.

An upbeat Ozzie Nelson beat came over above them, which immediately sent Kennedy thinking of home again - its summer, the windows are open, her mother's got the radio playing the music she always used when cleaning the house; a mix of Artie Shaw, Billie Holiday, Glenn Miller and Benny Goodman. Sometimes even some Ray Noble. Any sort of music as such would remind her of that time in her youth, racing around the house with her brothers, this music in her ears, the kitchen smelling like lemon soap and freshly scrubbed, the linens hanging outside, the sound of her mother sweeping and shooing away her brothers or their dog, Gunny.

"My ma loves this music," Kennedy said with a smile, looking out to the dance floor as people danced and clung onto one another, as if it were the only thing they had apart from those flying coffins - human touch, more important than anything when they were here, "she played it all the time at home."

"She a big band fan?" Bucky asked her, and she looked to him with a smile and nodded. The corners of his eyes grew soft - she noticed he did that sometimes when he was really listening to you; really, really listening. When she had first noticed it, she'd been taken back at the intensity with which he would watch and listen, but he did it so subtly she had never really noticed until now.

"Always has been." Kennedy said with a nod, "I mean, with five sons and one daughter, there isn't a whole lot of space to listen to quiet jazz, or…something or other. Everyone always wanted big band being played." Bucky let out a bark of a chuckle and then got quiet again, glancing her way with that cautious look painted on his face. He knocked her shoulder lightly.

"And you?" he asked her, a slightly playful look on his face, lips itching to grin again.

"What about me?"

"What do you like?" he asked her, "What does Kennedy Farley dance around to her when no one's looking?" Kennedy couldn't help but laugh, a real genuine laugh and shake her head.

"Usually Benny Goodman or Glenn Miller."

"Like mother, like daughter." Bucky said with a smile, "What's she doing now ya think? Your ma?" Kennedy shrugged, feeling slightly homesick at the thought of her Ma, at home, with all her children off to war, or college, or school, her husband off to work, leaving her in that big house all alone. Her stomach twisted unpleasantly and she couldn't fight the sad expression off her face.

"Probably getting dinner ready - she makes a damn good beef stew. Chop the carrots, onions, celery. Let the beef sit and marinate for a while. The whole house would smell almost like Christmas Eve," Kennedy said softly, before quirking out a grin, "waiting for Dad to get home from work." She stared at Bucky who watched her back. "Your ma?"

"Much of the same probably." Bucky said, leaning up against the bar and schooling his features evenly, "Cooking up dinner, waiting for my dad to get home." Bucky smiled almost bittersweetly. "Wish she didn't have to be there alone, ya know?"

"Yeah," Kennedy said quickly, her emotions warping with her intense want to berate him yet again over baseball, but her softer side took over and she looked at him, "I don't doubt though if I went home, she'd be telling me 'Don't leave my sight again.'" Kennedy said with a small smile. "Broke her damn heart for me to come out here. Only daughter. One of the youngest." Bucky watched her, his face quiet, his expressions even and he seemed at once, intently focused purely on her.

"She didn't want me to come." Kennedy told him honestly, feeling like if she didn't get it off her chest now, she never would tell a soul, "Here. Flying B-17s, being a gunner, getting my hands on a .50 cal. She hated the idea of all of it. But I guess she let me go because she knew it was what I wanted. What I needed. For me." She looked over at Bucky and saw nothing but that gentle, fond expression on his face. She smiled slightly. He smiled right back, almost instantly.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," he said, watching as her face morphed from sadness to mild surprise, to which he laughed at, "yeah, I swear to ya, Farley. I really am. Hey, who was it that saw you shooting that .50 cal back in training and hand-picked you for my gunners, alright?" She was quiet. "That was me."

"And then of course Birdie took you under her wing and the rest is history, but I didn't forget that at some point in time, you were one of my waist gunners," he said, knocking her shoulder lightly again, "a good one at that, you know that?" Just hearing Birdie's name made her heart squeeze.

"It's really nothing special-"

"You shot Expert, Farley," he said, holding her gaze with a firm look, "that sends eyes wandering, I promise ya."

Oh.

She watched him for a moment before her fingers were getting twitchy and she needed something for them and to get herself to look away from that look in his eyes.

"Cigarette?" she asked him, pulling from his gaze to dig her hand into her pockets and produce the slightly crumpled cigarette packet she always had on hand. He watched her before slowly nodding.

"Sure." he said, as she innately popped open the top and produced two cigarettes, sliding one onto her lip and the other into his own hands, "Thanks."

"The least I could do for a compliment like that." she said, almost bashfully, as he placed it on his lip with a chuckle.

"First time anyone's ever told you that?"

"People don't tell me a whole lot of things like that ever so," Kennedy started, before attempting to smile, "yeah, first time for everything" Bucky watched her curiously as he produced a lighter and leaned forward to light up her cigarette before doing his own.

"Really?" he asked her, almost surprised - why would he need to act surprised, why did he even bother to care? She nodded. Bucky watched her for a moment, fingertips drumming against his cigarette as he stared at her; his gaze not one she was entirely even turning away from or wanting to.

"Cleanup." She stared at him, raising a brow.

"Tell Bobby Farley that you shoulda been in cleanup in the lineup." Bucky said, turning towards the bar again and calling for another drink, "Shortstops are usually closer to the top of the lineup anyway, right?" Kennedy watched him, her heart pounding.

"Bucky-"

"I woulda put you in that clean-up spot any day of the week, believe me." he said, smiling at her, with a grin, before turning to the bar and getting his drink. And she recited deep from within her mind, something Bobby Farley had taught her well and good in their screaming matches - 4th slot in the lineup, cleanup spot, usually one of the more or most important players in the lineup; they're powerful, drive in runs and more than anything are one thing - consistent.

#OKAYYYYY #BUT THIS WAS SO FUN #i had been wanting to do this piece for a WHILE #like a straight up talking baseball piece #AND HERE IT IS!!!!#always the not-so-subtle flirting going on with this too like #yall #hellooooo #we see you and hear you loud and clear #the cleanup/shortstop compliment too?#yeah in baseball terms that's a pretty top tier compliment - people must trust u a whole lot #LIKE OK BUCKY I SEE U #(communicating in the sports language she thrives in best <3333 yelling about sports teams ahhhh true love)#kennedy u will always be iconic lets be fr #kennedy x bucky #kennedy farley #bucky egan #bucky egan x oc #john egan x oc #also hi: birdie faulkner mention !!!!!#and YES kennedy *was* a waist gunner for bucky a long while ago #I JUST THEM!!! THEM (distant screams) brb dont mind me fangirling over them in my head (remembers i must continue to write them to continue #to fangirl HEHE)#THANK YOU ALLLLL!!!! <3333

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