#soldatbarneswritingchallenge

[justsomebucky]

Lesson Learned

Summary: AU. Reader and Bucky Barnes are best friends. Will a figure from the past ruin everything, or will they see what’s right in front of them?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,484

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, drinking, fables are difficult, the grass isn’t always greener, cheesy like Hallmark movies, yadda yadda

A/N: This is my last submission for the lovely Nikki’s ( @soldatbarnes​) writing challenge. My prompt was the word Fable (and I have listed my selected one below the cut). I have suffered through this.Thanks to @sebbytrash for helping.

The Astronomer An astronomer used to go out at night to observe the stars. One evening, as he wandered through the suburbs with his whole attention fixed on the sky, he fell accidentally into a deep well. While he lamented and bewailed his sores and bruises, and cried loudly for help, a neighbor ran to the well, and learning what had happened said: "Hark ye, old fellow, why, in striving to pry into what is in heaven, do you not manage to see what is on earth?'

--------

“Do you ever look up at the sky and think of all the endless possibilities in life? Maybe wonder where you could’ve ended up instead of here?”

You turned your head and looked up at the glittering night sky. Where exactly was he going with this? “You mean another planet?”

Bucky Barnes, your best friend in the world, gave a big belly laugh. “No, I mean as in another city, or another country…do you ever picture yourself having a life someplace else? Do you think you were meant to be living a different life?”

Your eyes flickered back down to the water, where slivers of moonlight glistened off the small waves. The two of you had picked this table because of its location on the deck, and now you wished you were inside, sharing elbow room with an overwhelming Friday crowd.

You couldn’t explain it, but his question made you anxious, and your fight-or-flight mode was ready to send you flying.

“Of course it crosses my mind sometimes,” you replied, trying to keep a casual tone. “I think everyone thinks about it…but how can you really know?”

He nodded but didn’t answer, taking a quick swig of his beer as he lost himself in thought again.

Your brows furrowed as you considered his original question. Was he having some regrets about his choices?

This was new, or news to you at least. Bucky normally seemed pretty content in his life here, and had since the day you met him two years ago. He had a good job, lots of friends, a decent apartment…he even had a little cat he lovingly called Luke Skywalker.

In fact, it was a vast improvement from how he’d been the first time you set eyes on him.

Everything about that night had been filled with laughter and fun. You’d been out celebrating your friend Rochelle’s engagement to the love of her life, Dean. Carley, your roommate back at uni, brought her husband Richard, leaving you as the only one flying solo. Normally, you hated showing up alone to parties when you knew everyone else would be paired off.

That night was a special exception, obviously.

And though you wouldn’t realize it until later, that night had a bit of magic left to try to align the universe in your favor, too.

Your entire life shifted on its axis the day Bucky Barnes entered your life.

The little celebration had already been in full swing for at least an hour. You’d wandered to the bar for another round of drinks (on you, of course, because everyone took turns). Every bit of it was fairly normal.

You’d looked over at him, then. It was just a quick glance the first time, then a few more, and another as you felt drawn in his direction. At the time you figured it was just the two rum and cokes in your system doing all the thinking for you.

Maybe you looked that many times because you’d never seen someone so handsome in that dinky restaurant by the water before. Maybe it was the look in his sad blue-grey eyes as he stared at nothing that tugged on your heartstrings. Those could certainly be contributors to why you chose to approach him that night.

Anyway, you felt an urgent need to introduce yourself, reasons be damned.

That night was supposed to be happy, filled with laughter and joy, not misery. Why should someone be so miserable if you could help them? You wanted to see him happy.

You had scooted a little closer while you waited for your drinks, though not so far as to make him feel like you were a creeper. His eyes had met yours in confusion, but at least he wasn’t put off by your presence. Conversation started, and though at first he was a man of few words, you managed to get his tragic backstory.

It turned out that a woman named Natasha had left him for the other coast, intent on making it big in the entertainment industry. She told him she didn’t want him along for the ride even though Bucky was willing to go with her. They didn’t have a future, she’d said.

That very night, he sat there by himself, drinking and wallowing under the weight of a year-long relationship that came crashing down over his head in mere minutes. This Natasha woman had decided, without his input, that his life was going to change forever because of her own needs.

She just threw him away.

So yeah, you spared him a few more minutes of your time and even a drink on your tab before you invited him over to the engagement party. At first he refused, but once you got Carley and Rochelle in on it, he said he couldn’t possibly turn three lovely ladies down.

The fact that he was smiling by the end of that night made your whole damn week better. He was easy to like, and as the months went on, even easier to love.

You realized you were in love with him after about seven months or so, but there was never any a-ha moment. It just became a fact of life, a little footnote of information that you kept to yourself.

Not that you would ever tell him…you didn’t want to then, and couldn’t imagine telling him in the near future. Things worked well between the two of you and you didn’t want to mess it up.

It wasn’t worth the risk of losing him.

For all his intuitiveness, Bucky didn’t seem to notice the atmosphere shifting around him as you recalled your affection. He didn’t notice the way your eyes lingered or how your hands fidgeted nervously.

You looked away, focusing on a small boat parked nearby as it shimmied on the water. “Is there a reason you’re asking, Buck?”

Bucky cleared his throat. “Actually, yeah…remember Natasha?”

Your eyes narrowed almost instantly. Of course you remembered her. “You mean the woman who left you two years ago after breaking your heart into a million pieces?”

When he didn’t answer, you looked back at him. “Am I wrong?”

“She’s back in town,” he continued, overlooking the truth of the situation. “She wanted to get together, catch up a little.”

“And you told her no, right?”

Didn’t he? Surely he wouldn’t agree to meet with her after everything she did to him. What kind of madman would even consider it?

“I had drinks with her last night,” Bucky admitted quietly, swirling the last of his beer once before chugging it.

So that’s where he had been when you tried to reach him. He had been suspiciously quiet all day.

That’s who he was with on the night he usually reserved for you, for movies or game night or anything as long as the two of you were together.

Your eyes flitted back to the water. You weren’t sure if it was mortification or betrayal you were feeling…maybe a little of both.

“And?”

He sighed. “She’s well…she’s thinking about moving back to the city.”

A low hum sounded in your throat. Of course she was.

“Couldn’t cut it out west?”

“She said she’s sick of the weather.”

“There’s always Canada.”

“Y/N…”

“Bucky,” you mimicked, meeting his sharp gaze again. “What ever happened to ‘I don’t ever want to see her again,’ and ‘she ruined my life’?”

He gave a shrug and set his beer bottle down. “We’ve both grown up a little.”

The truth was more likely that Natasha needed a place to crash until she got her own place here. Maybe she wanted to borrow some money, maybe she needed some…casual familiar relief…but there was no way in hell that she should be able to just go back to something she so easily left behind without having to own up to her mistakes first.

You sat up a little, giving him your full attention. “Did she apologize?”

“Sort of.” Bucky looked away.

Your eyes narrowed. “How does one sort of apologize? That’s like saying you sort of breathe, you sort of exist, you sort of-“

“I get it, all right? I just need some time to think.” Bucky slid out of his chair and stood, gesturing to your drink. “Want another one?”

Yeah, definitely not. The more liquid courage you had the greater the chance of spilling your guts to him, and after his little Natasha revelation, that was out of the question.

“Actually, I have to be up early tomorrow.”

It was the most see-through excuse ever, but you didn’t care. Why should you care if he didn’t care enough about himself to move on from that destructive relationship.

He’d made so much progress...it hurt to see him so willing to throw it all away.

Bucky nodded, running a hand over the light stubble on his jawline. “Do you need a lift, or-“

“I’m fine,” you interrupted, grabbing your bag and jacket while forcing a smile to your face. “Have a good night Bucky.”

You didn’t wait for his reply before bolting for the exit. It wasn’t mature and certainly wasn’t how you would have liked to handle it, but if you didn’t get out of there quick, you were going to get emotional.

---

Days passed before you even bothered to open the text messages you’d been getting from Bucky.

The silent treatment was so, so childish, but you honestly didn’t know what to say to him. You didn’t know how to explain why you left so abruptly that night, and you sure as hell didn’t know how to explain why you were so angry, so emotional over this whole situation without revealing your secret.

Your heart was screaming for you to just talk to him, but your fear was keeping you quiet.

So you did what you were used to doing. You closed yourself off from the rest of the world. You went to work, you came home, and you repeated the process, just going through the motions to keep your head above water.

The thing was, your heart was aching. Every day it felt like a larger weight stacked on your shoulders. The sun shined a little less brightly, your bed wasn’t as soft, and your smiles were halfhearted. It was pretty melodramatic after only a week, but you just couldn’t help it.

It was like a part of you went missing, which was really ridiculous, since you never felt like that before Bucky came into your life.

When Friday night arrived, you sat on your couch in your small apartment and finally broke down, opening the growing number of unread texts from your best friend.

The further you read, the more the text started to blur as a week’s worth of unhinged emotions finally caught up to you.

Hope you made it home safely.

Hey, I know you hate Sunday nights, so I found this picture of a dog for you.

Have a great Monday, Y/N.

Hey did you see this video? Thought it might make you smile.

Those were just the starters.

Happy Hump Day!

I guess you’re really mad at me, huh? : /

Is there anything I can do?

Y/N, can we talk? Maybe over pizza and a Thor movie? Get it? Thorsday?

Or maybe we could go to the movies if you don’t want to talk?

Okay, well, when you decide you want to talk, I’ll be here.

I just really miss you.

That’s the one that got you. The last message had a time stamp of earlier that afternoon.

He was still making an effort to talk, so you decided to make the effort, too.

If he wanted to go be with Natasha again, so be it. It didn’t mean he would be out of your life, just less accessible. Maybe they were meant to be, maybe it was fated for her to come back in his life. Two years was enough time to grow as a person, if the person really wanted to, right?

You weren’t even involved, you didn’t even know her. This was their battle, their reunion, and you didn’t need to forgive someone on someone else’s behalf.

You didn’t even factor into Bucky’s equation.

“Dammit,” you muttered, setting your phone down on the coffee table in front of you.

You were jealous.

Bucky had been just yours for two whole years. The two of you did everything together, and the thought of him spending time with her, well…

It kind of made you sick to your stomach.

Two years of spending all that time together really did a number on your brain. It was so damn cliché to fall for your best friend. It was stupid and so utterly useless. If he had wanted more from you, he’d had two years to make a move. Hell, you had two years to make a move and you chickened out.

Besides, your jealousy didn’t change anything. It didn’t make you more important than Natasha to Bucky. It didn’t make him want to be with you.

All it did was make you feel awful.

You squeezed your eyes shut, letting your head fall back against the couch cushion with a loud groan.

The decision was basically made for you. It was time to be a better, more supportive friend. It was selfish to try to hold onto someone who wanted to be free. If that’s what he needed from you, you weren’t going to let your dumb feelings get in the way.

You’d get over him eventually.

Your eyes opened and you quickly typed out a message to Bucky, asking him to meet you at the restaurant by the water, and you even added a little note at the end that made your heart twist.

Feel free to bring Natasha.

---

You didn’t dress differently or prepare any sort of speech to give him. There were only two words resting on the tip of your tongue at the moment, and they were long overdue.

So that night, nearly two years to the day that you met, it was your turn to sit at the bar by yourself, looking forlorn and more than a little lost.

This time it was Bucky who approached you, silently taking the barstool beside you as he waved to the bartender and ordered a beer.

When you didn’t hear anyone else order, you turned your eyes toward your best friend.

He was alone. Bucky’s blue-grey eyes were as calm as the water behind you as he locked eyes with you. He said nothing, merely waiting for you to say what was on your mind.

“I’m sorry.”

Bucky didn’t react for a second or two, but when the corner of his mouth lifted you knew you were forgiven.

“I’m sorry, too.”

You protested almost immediately, knowing that he wasn’t at fault here, but he was having none of it.

“Look, Y/N.” He placed a gentle hand on your arm that was resting on the bar top. “I get it, you were just looking out for me. Natasha did a number on me and seeing her again, well…it kind of made my brain go haywire.”

All you could do was nod to encourage him to continue. This is what you were here for, after all, to listen and be supportive.

“I started thinking about how life could be if I was somewhere else. Did I make all the right choices? Did I choose the right path? I kept looking up and away instead of here and now.”

You shrugged one shoulder, trying to seem casual about the whole thing while internally you were screeching. “Like I said last week, Bucky, everyone does that.”

“Not you,” he countered, turning his body a little more to face you. “You never have. You marched right up to me the first night we met, and told me to keep living, to keep existing for me and to make the most of what I had. You made me laugh, you made me happy again, and I’ll be forever grateful.”

“That’s what friends are for.” Your leg started involuntarily shaking against the barstool and you had to make an effort to stop despite your nerves being shot.

“And that brings me to my next point, Y/N.”

Bucky pulled his hand from your arm and stood, this time leaning over on the bar right in front of you. You found yourself a little more than flustered by his presence in your personal space.

Your leg wasn’t shaking anymore, but that was because you could no longer feel it.

“What next point?” you managed to ask, tightening your grip on your own drink.

“It’s so stupid, really…I was so busy looking at every other possibility that I didn’t see what was right in front of me until it wasn’t there anymore.”

Ah, of course. He meant your company, your friendship. Old reliable Y/N. Yeah, you knew how that felt…it had totally thrown you to go a week without him.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, feeling your face heat up with embarrassment. “I won’t be an ass like that again, I promise.”

“I don’t think you’re quite understanding.” Bucky shifted a little so his face was closer to yours. “I know now that every choice I made was for a reason.”

You stared in wide-eyed confusion. What the hell was happening? Everything behind him faded to a blur as you zeroed in on his face.

“One week without you crushed me, Y/N,” he explained, his eyes softening a little. “Sure, Nat was back, but all she did was make me realize what I already had. Your absence wasn’t worth it. It won’t ever be worth it.”

“Can you please just speak plainly?”

If you were reading him right (and you knew you were after two years of being in his company), things were about to monumentally shift in your relationship again.

“I’m saying that life without you doesn’t make sense to me, and I don’t want to experience it ever again. I’m saying my life choices led me to you, and I’ll never regret it. I’m saying the past two years have been the best years of my life. I should have been looking in front of me this whole time.”

Bucky was silent while he waited for you to process this information.

“Are you sure you aren’t confusing yourself?” You needed him to check and re-check before you could believe that he came upon this huge revelation. “Because having a friendship you can rely on that suddenly isn’t there can be an emotional thing, too, and I-“

“This is going to sound stupid, but I think that’s why I haven’t dated in over a year. I think…” He paused, as if trying to collect his thoughts. “I think Nat’s arrival made me realize that I’ve been acting like you and I were already in a relationship, without putting both feet in.”

You pondered that for a second. Neither of you had dated anyone in about a year, now that you thought about it. And really, you hadn’t felt the need to.

“I took you for granted, Y/N, and I’m sorry. But I want to do right by you now. I want us to be together.”

“Bucky, this is a big step, a huge change. Are you sure?” Any sliver of calm you hoped to retain was gone, replaced by a buzzing excitement that might very well have been borderline panic. “Because I don’t want to be hurt again in a week if you realize you were just lonely.”

A little smile appeared on his lips. “I am one-hundred percent sure. How do you feel about it?”

You stared at him, not wanting to miss any slight reaction. “Bucky, I’ve been sure for a while. I just figured…well, I assumed you friend-zoned me.”

Admitting that was such a relief. You’d held your feelings in for so long to spare the friendship, to spare yourself from any awkwardness, but now you felt the tension melting away. Now, at least, the truth was out in the open.  

“But now,” you continued, feeling empowered. “Even though we went about this the wrong way, we both learned a lesson here. I think…no, I know I want this.”

Bucky’s smile widened. It was his ‘Y/N smile,’ the one he reserved for you that sparked all your romantic feelings. It was the smile that made you feel like you were the most important person in his life.

Apparently, you were.

“This is probably the right time to kiss, don’t you think?” His eyes were sparkling now, with flecks of gold reflecting from the holiday lights above you. “You know, just to make it official.”

“It’s always good to make things official,” you mumbled, right before he leaned over to press his lips to yours.

When he pulled away a moment later, you were pretty sure you were giving him your best ‘Bucky smile.’

[hellomissmabel]

Nothing under 7 inches part 5

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Baker!Bucky x reader

Warnings:Fluff and angst y’all.

Word count: 2k

Summary: Bucky is a baker in Y/N’s hometown and with her mother’s birthday right around the corner, he’s excited to see her again. Y/N however doesn’t plan on staying for too long and aims to return to the city life, a dirty little secret getting in the way of her love life.

A/N: My prompt was “cottage”. This fic is written for @soldatbarnes her writing challenge. If you want on the tag list, please send me an ask! I can’t keep track of all the comments.

IF YOU WANT IN ON THE GENERAL TAG LIST OR WANNA STAY ON THE GENERAL TAG LIST PLEASE SEND ME AN ASK.

Series masterlist can be found here

“What’s your least favourite cake to bake? I know you love anything patisserie but surely there’s one thing you don’t like?,” you chuckle whilst drawing a makeshift Christmas tree on top of the cake you just pulled out of the oven. Bucky insisted upon decorating it properly, sensing catharsis is nearby.

“Red velvet,” he answers honestly, a gasp of shock falling from your lips. “Not the cake but the brownie version. And don’t look at me like that, Y/N.”

He finishes up on a beautifully crafted snowman, his steady hands and expertise delivering an impeccable result. “How can you not love red velvet? A fluffy red velvet cake or a firm red velvet brownie… it doesn’t matter!”

“It’s not that I have something against red velvet,” he explains as he asks you to get a knife from the top drawer so he can cut the cake. “On the contrary, I love red velvet. But every time I try making red velvet brownies they end up either too gooey or too dry.”

“Maybe it’s not the red velvet that’s the problem…,” you poke gently, admiring your handiwork. “And maybe you can also put the second cake in the oven now while this one cools off.”

With the second batch of cake in the oven, you oversee your surroundings and realise your mind is just as much a mess as the kitchen is. So you end up volunteering to help him clean up, but Bucky is unyielding in his request to talk things through and with one swift move of his arm he slides everything aside. Resting his hands on your hips he lifts you up on top of the counter, standing in between your legs with his fingertips digging into your thighs.

“The cake is in the oven, which means we have an hour all to ourselves.” His tone is piercing and it tickles your ears as much as the scent of the freshly bakes cake awakens your senses.

“Ever since I was a kid, I stood in Peggy’s shadow,” you start off with a sharp exhale, your chest rising as you gather all your courage with a deep breath.

“She got all the attention from mom. It never bothered Wade, he always did his own thing. But it had a huge effect on me.” Bucky nods as he caresses your legs over the soft fabric of your dress. “Peggy was always the favourite and mom even based the heroin in one of her fantasy novels on her. Dad and I got along much better, but he was always at work which left us with little to no quality time.”

Taking a hold of Bucky’s hands, you slide them off your thighs and let them rest on the counter. Bucky’s head drops a little and he mumbles something like “I’m going to check on the cake” before turning away to the oven where the cake is slowly rising.

“One day I got home and Peggy and mom were seated at the table waiting for me to return from school,” you continue speaking, finding it easier to be honest with Bucky now his back is to you.

“I was 14 and Wade had just left for Los Angeles to make it big as a comedian. Peggy had been accepted to a college in London for a PHD. Mom was overjoyed when she announced the news to me. From then on, something clicked inside my head and when Peggy left for London, I locked myself up in my room, crying my heart out because she’d never love me as much as she’d love my big sister.”

The brunet spins around on his heels and casually leans against the counter next to the oven, ears listening intently. “It got so bad that my mother demanded I’d see the school counsellor. I refused. I didn’t want anybody at school to know how deep I was. Then dad noticed and took me to my aunt’s farm over Thanksgiving. It was a very therapeutic experience for me and we bounded over our love for animals. That’s when he told me why mom is so attached to Peggy.”

“My parents got married at a very young age and my mother wanted to have kids as soon as possible.” You eye Bucky sadly, the corners of his mouth tugged downwards in a morose smile, aching to comfort you.

“But the doctors told mom she couldn’t get pregnant without a little help, because of her disease. Peggy was a miracle and she gave my mother hope, hope for a second child. She always wanted two children, a boy and a girl, so they kept trying and trying and trying for a second child. Then Wade was born a few years later and it was like a dream came through. My parents didn’t really try for another kid after Wade.”

“And then came along Y/N?,” Bucky queries while walking to the fridge and taking out a carton of milk, pouring you both a glass of milk.

Handing one glass to you, he opens another cupboard where he takes out a box with some leftover cookies he made the other day, offering them as some kind of peace offer. You take a sip, the freshness of the milk hitting your taste buds and in no time you finish your glass, a slight milk moustache gracing your upper lip and Bucky chuckles as he points it out to you.

“Anyway,” you cough a little, a small laugh escaping you. “Then mom and dad went on a romantic weekend… It’s not that I was an unwanted child… Because they were thrilled to have me.”

As Bucky munches on one of the chocolate chip cookies, you only take one bite of yours, afraid you’ll choke on the lump in your throat. “But then mom found out that I had the same disease she’d been struggling with her whole life and she just… snapped. She couldn’t deal with it.”

Pushing the plate with the rest of the cookies aside, your face contorts in a sour expression as you’re fighting back the tears. “Now you know. Now you know why I’m afraid to have that white picket fence life with you. I’m afraid I’m not good enough because of my mom. I’m afraid my kids will be just as sick as I am. I’m afraid, Bucky, afraid that you’ll cast me aside, too.”

Bucky is quick to step towards you again. “I would never do that to you, baby. I love you. I love you, I love you, Y/N.” It’s like Bucky’s stuck dancing on a broken record, forced to retrace his steps over and over again. He’s done this before, but this time it’s the last do-over.

“I know you do, I know. Believe me, I know. But at 18, I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. I’d been damaged too much. I needed to be repaired. In New York, I found the repair I needed. But I also accumulated quite a debt.”

Bucky shoots you a confused and troubled look. “But I thought your parents settled your debt?”

That’s what you wanted everybody to believe, you confide in Bucky as regret and shame lace your voice. “I – I found a way to make money on the side.”

You had your job that pays quite well and your parents who’d send you money on the regular. But then you met Tony Stark, a man that runs in a lot of social circles and with a lot of connections. His wife was divorcing him and hung out all the dirty laundry. “He didn’t want us to be just friends, so he made me a proposal I couldn’t refuse.”

There’s a pang in Bucky’s heart, hearing another man has got you more to himself than Bucky. “So you’re still seeing him now?”

Biting your lower lip in regret, you lock eyes with Bucky and see his jaw is clenched so tight he might break his teeth from gritting them too hard. “He’s the reason why I need to go back as soon as possible.”

As soon as you utter those last words, Bucky pulls back straightaway. “He’s the reason why you wanna go back to New York so badly?”

His tone is higher and harder than before, even when you we’re arguing so heatedly outside the cottage. With his eyes spitting fire at you, venom on the tip of his tongue as well as a string of profanities, Bucky’s hand lashes out and slams the plate of cookies to the ground, sending them clattering with a sharp noise that screeches in your mind.

“Is he the one that mended you? Is that it?” Furiously carding his fingers through his brown locks, Bucky kicks with the tip of his feet at the cookies scattered all over the kitchen floor, not even acknowledging your completely tensed up form on the kitchen counter until you hike up your knees to your chest and hurl up into a small ball.

Much to your surprise, once Bucky turns around again and shows you his true emotions, he isn’t angered with or disappointed in you. On the contrary, his sadness is eating him up from the inside. “What do I have to do to get through to you, Y/N?,” he wails while dragging his hands down his face, tears mingling with the skin of his fingertips as they drop onto his hands. “I can’t let you go. I can’t.”

“I promised Tony one last night of play pretend, Bucky. If I don’t show up, he will ruin me,” you cry softly into your arms. “But I don’t wanna…” The tears are stronger than your words and they hitch in your throat. “I don’t wanna give you up, too.”

Bucky realises there’s only one solution, one way to ensure a future for the both of you. Still rocking back and forth as he embraces you, he presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes, envisioning that future while he whispers softly. “I’m coming to New York with you. I’m giving it all up for you. My mind is made up, Y/N. I’m coming to New York.”

Tag list: @melconnor2007 @learisa @mrshopkirk @dont-speak-just-read @buckyappreciationsociety @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @lovemarvelousfics @pleasantdreamqueen @petersunderroos @movingonto-betterthings @palaiasaurus64 @ssweet-empowerment @lovemarvelousfics @rrwilson66 @petersunderroos  @reniescarlett   @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @barnes-heaven  @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival  @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven  @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @a-little-hell-to-raise @knittingknerdy  @winterboobaer @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie  @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @howlingbarnes  @themcuhasruinedme @buchananbarnestrash @hollycornish   @delicatecapnerd @tomhollandzs  @aletheladyinred @xbergiex @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers   @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @autijahnerd13s-blahg @sophiealiice @sarahmatthews7 @lumelgy @kudosia @daringtodreamawake

@always-an-evans-addict @thegreentgirl @yourtropegirl @4theluvofall @curvybihufflepuff @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @movingonto-betterthings @breezy1415 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @pineapplebooboo  @thefridgeismybestie @supernatural508 @supernaturaldean67  @cant-decide-at-this-moment @mehrmonga @specs15 @kanupps06 @imnotinsanehunny @sarahgracej @jasura @nerdyandproud9 @geeksareunique @jesspfly @badassbaker @whenallsaidanddone @incoherent-smiles-deactivated @jurassicbarnes

Series tag list: @alexaduke @iamthemaskhewears @booksb4boys69

[thank-you-for-the-vampire-money]

LOOK AT THE FISHIES

This is for @soldatbarnes writing challenge!!!  Thank you for letting me participate, love! <3

A/N: also, this is kind of an AU where Chase hasn’t died and he’s settled down with his SO.

Chase Collins x reader

Word count: 1733

Summary: you’ve had a really bad week, so Chase decides to make it better.

Warnings: sad reader, work stress, Chase being a jerk (but he fixes it)

(GIF not mine)

This week had been absolutely AWFUL.  You started out hopeful and optimistic about the new work week and were ready to tackle any task your manager could throw at you!  That was until after lunch on Monday.

You thought you were getting a bunch done!  You had already budgeted out the next couple months, made your reports about expected profits, and even got started on your marketing presentation!  Then you got to your desk and realized… “HOLY SHIT, THESE ARE THE WRONG FILES!”.  You had used the budget for June and switched it with July, accidentally wrote the profits from the holiday season on the spring term sheets, and your computer crashed, getting rid of all your presentation research and company statistics!

Tuesday was no better, you had to get your computer fixed, meet up with your supervisor to turn in your reports for the past quarter, and you had an interview to conduct with a potential new intern.

Your entire job depended on your laptop and the internet, but your computer wasn’t going to be fixed until Monday of the next week!  That meant you’d be struggling with good ol’ pencils and calculators for the next three days.  After that, your train was late and you nearly missed your meeting!  You were over twenty minutes late and your supervisor was not happy.

The interview with the intern was a NIGHTMARE.  It was a punk kid, fresh out of college who thought the world owed him everything… and that he could get in your pants with some disturbing hip gyration and vulgar pick-up lines.  Needless to say, he was not getting that job.

Wednesday was a shit storm.  You had to pick up the slack of your co-worker who was on maternity leave.  Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem…. Except you were still working like a KINDERGARTNER WITH A CALCULATOR!  At this point, you had to start skipping lunch to actually get things done.  And you normally don’t have time for breakfast so you’re only eating a cold dinner when you get home.  That was also the day that your heel got stuck in a vent grate and you nearly got run over by a taxi.

Point is, you had a horrible week and were ready for it to be over.  Luckily, it was finally Friday, seven o’clock, now you were officially allowed to go home.  With how much work you had and how slow you were progressing through it, your boss told you, “it would be in the company’s best interest if you work overtime to get your workload done,”.  You know he didn’t intend to be harsh or mean to you, he was just wanting this busy time to pass smoothly, but it still hurt and frustrated you.

You lugged yourself onto the train, plopping down on the seat with a huff.  You were exhausted, frustrated, and about ready to cry by the time you got home.

You walked the six blocks back to your apartment, your feet aching as your shoes rubbed blisters into your feet.  You opened the door, dropping your things on the floor, kicking off your heels, and plopping down on the couch.  You cringed, remembering you promised your boyfriend/ roommate, Chase, that you would wash the dishes when you got home.

“Welcome home baby,” Chase smiled, quietly walking into the room in his comfy looking pajamas.  You smiled as you saw he was wearing the pajamas you got him last Christmas, the duck ones you got as a joke.  “How was work?” he asked, rubbing your back soothingly.

“I never want to go back,” you groaned, sitting up to take your blazer off, “that weird, creepy coworker, Randy, he wouldn’t stop flirting with me!  I had to yell at him to make him go away, and he got petty and decided to drop another stack of paperwork on my desk!”

“That sounds really sucky, I’m sorry babe,” he sighed, sitting you on his lap as he crawled on the couch, “why don’t you get yourself something to eat, then get to bed, I’ll finish up the chores,”

“You’re the best, baby,”

The next day, you didn’t wake up until almost noon.  You had been waking up at four in the morning for the past couple days and you weren’t getting to sleep until eleven each night, so a good sleep on a full stomach was exactly what you needed.

You wandered into the kitchen, following the wonderful smell of cheap macaroni and cheese.  “Mmm… lunch is ready?” you asked, hugging Chase from behind, resting your head in between his shoulder blades.  He was always so cuddly and soft.

“You betcha!” he smiled, moving your hand so he could kiss your palm, “I know how much you like this stuff, and you’ve been so stressed, so I thought you could use a treat today,”

“You’re wonderful, you know that?” you smiled, kissing his cheek.

After a deliciously cheap meal and a few colas later (burping contest included) Chase wanted to take you out for a “special surprise”.  He insisted you wear comfy clothes and walking shoes because “you’re not wearing that wretched monkey suit to our magical destination!”.  His words, not yours.

You decided to wear some shorts and your favorite Batman shirt, and of course, your high-top converse.  Once you were all ready, you tried walking out the door, but Chase wouldn’t have it!  “You’ve been on your feet enough, I’m carrying you,” he said.  Before you could even protest, he had you on his back and was giving you a piggyback ride to the train.

He took you down to the city and hailed a taxi to take you to your “magical destination”, and that’s when curiosity started to take over…

“So, where are we going?” you asked casually.

“You’ll see,” he smiled, turning to tell the driver where he wanted to go.  And he did so quietly, just so you wouldn’t hear him!  Sneaky little bastard.

“Please tell me?  I just have to know!” you begged like an impatient child.

“You’ll see when we get there,”

You looked out the window, hoping you could guess where Chase was taking you by what you saw.  “Are we going to… the zoo?”

“Kind of,”

“How do you ‘kind of’ go to the zoo?  Do you stand outside the gate?”

No matter how much you guessed, he wouldn’t tell you, and that was really frustrating.  But, you didn’t bug him about it too much, because he was trying to do something nice for you.

“We’re here,” he smiled, paying the cab fare and helping you out of the taxi.  You excitedly looked at the huge building in front of you.  There was a huge gate, decorated with shells and sea creatures, and the facility itself looked like Poseidon's palace!

“The Aquarium!?” you gasped, jumping up and down

“Yeah, I thought this would be fun!” he answered, holding your hand and kissing your cheek.

And it was fun!  Chase showed you the jellyfish exhibit; it was his favorite part.  And then he wanted you to see the turtles!  There was even a tide-pool exhibit where you could pet horseshoe crabs!  You pointed out that they looked like Darth Vader’s face with legs coming out of it.

You were waiting in the bleachers for the dolphin show to start when you noticed Chase wasn’t sitting next to you anymore.  As a little twinge of panic set in, you saw that he was coming back, this time with a big, plastic bag in his hands.  “What’s that?” you asked

“Nothing,” he shrugged.  He was hiding something…

After the dolphin show, you asked if you could pet the stingrays, of course, he agreed.

“It feels like a wet hotdog,” you giggled, brushing your fingers against the back of the sea creature’s body for the third time.

“Or a slick kiwi slice,” Chase giggled back, placing a kiss on your temple, “hey, they have an underground fish observation room if you want to see that,”

“Ooh!  Yeah I wanna see that!” you cheered, grabbing his hand and rushing towards the door.

“Uh, babe, you might want to disinfect your hands first,” he reminded, pointing to the hand sanitizer by the wall.

You two were some of the only people down there; guess people didn’t find this interesting.  But you thought it was amazing!  You could look in the tank from an underwater view and watch the fish swim around!  How was this not entertaining?!

Chase saw how mesmerized you were and smiled; you were finally relaxing and having fun!  You deserved that after the week you had.

“Chase, look at the fishies!” you whispered, pointing to the multicolored school of fish passing by.

“Did you just say ‘fishies’?”

After a long day of learning about the ocean and its magnificent creatures (and street-vendor hot dogs), you and Chase were finally home.  You plopped down on the couch, kicking off your shoes with a content sigh of happiness.

“Thank you Chase, this was wonderful,” you smiled, leaning up to peck his lips

“You’re welcome baby, I’m glad you had a good time,” he smiled, letting you lean on his shoulder to rest, “by the way, I got you something,”

“Chase, you shouldn’t have!  You’ve done enough already!” you playfully scolded, sitting back up straight

“Nonsense, I wanted to do this for you,” he smiled, getting off the couch to grab the big plastic bag you saw earlier.  He handed it to you, a wide smile on his face as he waited for you to look inside.

You took the large, soft object out of the bag to reveal it as a giant stuffed octopus!  “Aww, Chase!  This is so cute!” you whimpered, hugging the pink plushie to your chest, “I love it!”.

Chase kissed your forehead and sat back down with you.  “You really like it?” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around you.

“It’s perfect!” you exclaimed, laying your head on his lap, “though... “

“Though… what?”

“How can you get me a pink, stuffed octopus and still think it’s fair to poke fun at me for saying ‘fishies’?”

TAGLIST:

@buckyshattergirl  @bitchy-tacos  @paranoid-borderline-insane 

[hellomissmabel]

Nothing under 7 inches (1)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Baker!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Mentions of a sugar daddy/baby relationship. Mentions of sex but nothing NSFW. The word “fuck”.

Word count: 1.723

Summary: Bucky is a baker in Y/N’s hometown and with her mother’s birthday right around the corner, he’s excited to see her again. Y/N however doesn’t plan on staying for too long and aims to return to the city life, a dirty little secret getting in the way of her love life.

A/N: My prompt was “cottage”. This fic is written for @soldatbarnes her writing challenge.

Series masterlist can be found here

The door has only just fallen back into the lock when Nat’s head pops up from the couch where she’s working on her next column. “How was your date?,” she immediately shoots your way, dark eyes wild with curiosity.

Afraid to disappoint your roommate, you shrug and give her a shy smile. “It wasn’t really a date, Nat.”

The writer rolls her eyes at you, scoffing at you with a look you’ve seen a million times before. “Of course it wasn’t a date. You never let anyone touch you where it isn’t appropriate,” she huffs as she flips you a finger. “Such a prude…”

Her comment hurts, even though you will never call Nat out on her hurtful remarks. There’s no point in discussing love with Natasha Romanova, one of the most critically acclaimed bloggers in NYC. With her weekly column on sex and sexuality, Natasha isn’t short on experience in the dating scene. She might have a long-term boyfriend Clint, but she keeps countless guys on the side as well because for her it’s okay to have a boyfriend as well as a couple boyfriends. But she would never leave Clint for any of them, except maybe for the guy that got away, Bruce, but he’s off topic.

Clicking her tongue in dismay, she returns to her computer screen, no longer wasting any time on your lack of a love life. You shuffle towards the room you share with Wanda, your other roommate, but find Sharon instead. The blonde is your best friend yet is forced to share a room with Natasha since they both work from home and you don’t want to wake her up very early in the morning when you leave for work. It’s not the most ideal situation, but you manage alright.

Jumping up and down your bed, Sharon demands to know what you thought of the guy she set you up with. “Well,” you start to explain to her as you take off your coat and kick off your shoes before sitting down next to her, “Steve’s a very good guy. He took me for a spin on his motorcycle.”

“That must’ve been pretty exciting!,” Sharon exclaims loudly, making sure Natasha can hear her. She knows how much Natasha looks down on you, just because you’ve never had a relationship before and she’s had plenty.

You nod with a small laugh, carding your fingers through your hair to comb out the knots as you continue to tell her how perfect of a gentleman Steve was. Your date with Steve has been the first in almost two years. Before Sharon introduced the two of you, you’d been on maybe 3 dates in total in your entire life? Not that you mind, you’ve never been much of a dater anyway.

“Did he kiss you?,” Sharon interrupts your daydreaming, “Come on, Y/N, did he?”

You nod sheepishly, biting your lower lip. “At the end of the date”, you reminiscence softly, “It was a very chaste kiss.”

Your fingertips touch your lips and Sharon notices how her best friend is gloating from head to toe. “So it’s safe to say there are butterflies, right?”

Despite the positive feelings you associate with your date, you have to admit there weren’t that many sparks between you and the blond. “I don’t know…”

“But,” Sharon pouts as she tries to pry for more details, “I thought you said he was nice! And I know you, Y/N. You don’t just kiss any guy on the first date.”

“Yeah,” you exhale gently, eying Sharon with a sense of guilt. She was convinced Steve would be the perfect match for you. “Anyway, I’ve got his number and he already texted me for next Saturday. He’s cooking me dinner at his place.”

“Aren’t you supposed to go back home for your mom’s birthday on Wednesday?,” Sharon reminded you of your family commitments. “Will you be back in time for your second date?”

“No, don’t worry, Sharon,” you smile kindly as you see her eyebrows knit together, “I managed to secure a ride back to the city. I’ll be back really late Friday night, but I’ve got Saturday morning to sleep in.”

The blonde’s eyes soften a little, realising who you’re talking about. “Yes, how is Bucky these days anyway? Still renting that dusty old cottage from your folks?”

“Sharon!,” you gasp exasperatingly, prompting a snicker from her lips. “If you must know,” you glare back at her, “Yes, he is still living in the cottage.”

“Does he still make those delicious Florentines you brought back last time you were over?”

She giggles and you poke her quickly in the side. “I’ll ask him.”

You continue sharing jokes as you gush over Bucky’s incredible baking skills, until your phone rings and you recognise the number as Tony’s. “I gotta take this, Sharon, I’ll be right back.”

After leaving your room and crossing the living room on your tiptoes, trying not to disturb Nat’s mojo as she calls it, you hike up the stairs to the rooftop terrace where you know you’ll be able to hold a conversation without someone listening in.

“What’s up, babe?” Tony’s sultry voice fills your ear and you clench your jaw at the pet name. “I’ve got a favour to ask you. I’ll be at your place in five, maybe ten minutes.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you tell Tony’s it’s okay to come over. “But don’t take too long. I’ve got yoga with Sharon at six.”

After you’ve ended the call, you sit on one of the chairs looking out over New York. There’s a gentle breeze sending a tender wisp through your hair, and you’re reminded of so much more than just baker Bucky and his cottage, more than sweet Steve and his bike. You could go back to the familiarity that surrounds Bucky, or you could start something exciting with a new beau, Steve. But you’re hung up on a man whose help you now need more than ever and it hurts your heart more than you thought it would.

When the doorbell rings, you flee downstairs as fast as you can to make sure neither Nat or Sharon open the door instead. “Hi, Tony,” you greet the dark-haired man with a tight-lipped smile, pushing your feelings to the background so your conversation seems at least a bit genuine.

“Hey, Y/N,” he chuckles seductively, the silence that follows a little too uncomfortable for your taste. “How’s my sugar baby?”

All your senses are on high alert, and your voice quivers just a little as you snap back. “I’m fine, Tony. And don’t call me that.”

Scratching the back of his head, he gives you a cocky smile. Swallowing the lump in your throat, red blush tinting your cheeks, you listen to Tony’s proposal. “I need a date,” he announced dryly, his eyes darting from yours to your lips and back to your eyes. “Just a date. The usual.”

You’re appaled by the assumptions behind his words, but you let him finish his monologue first before giving him your definite answer, a soft smile playing on your lips for the sake of appearances.

“And you’re just such a good girl, I know people will love you. It’s just a boring office party but it’ll pay well, I promise.”

“When is this office party exactly?”

Tony visibly perks up, his ears attentive enough to spot that you’re at least considering his offer. “It’s this Friday.”

“I already have a commitment,” you answer flatly, “It’s my mother’s birthday and I won’t be back on time for your party.”

“I’m willing to compensate you big time for your efforts. I’ll buy you a dress of your liking at any store you fancy. And I’ll double your fee.”

Pursing your lips in thought, the offer very appealing to you, you eventually nod and accept. It’s not a secret that you need the money and luckily there are no extras involved. Immediately he gives you his brightest smile, flowing into a boyish grin as he thanks you profusely.

“Tony,” you add delicately in an attempt not to step on his toes because you know Tony has a short fuse. “I don’t think we can keep doing this for much longer. I’m seeing someone...”

You search his eyes for understanding, which is not easily given by him. “I see. Well, your loss,” he dismisses you quickly, placing a hand on your upper arm and squeezing firmly. Tony is extremely attracted to you and he’s doing a horrendous job at hiding it – taking you by surprise and kissing you hard on the lips on purpose.

“But don’t come crawling back to daddy after he breaks your heart,” he breathes lowly to your lips. “I’ve been nothing but good to you, Y/N, don’t forget.”

“Oh fuck you,” you mumble under your breath as you push him away. “Don’t you dare dictate what I can and cannot do, who I can and cannot date. You don’t own me, Tony.”

“With the amount I’m paying you, I might as well,” he smirks darkly. “I’ll text you the details and send someone to pick you up at eight,” Tony calls over his shoulder, “See ya, baby doll. And don’t forget, nothing under seven inches! You know I like it when a girl wears high heels to bed.”

Disgusted by his words, you feel the blood drain from your face and the bile rise up in your throat. If it wasn’t for all your debts, you would’ve dumped him a long time ago. But he’s a sweet-talker and a charmer and your arrangement has always been very convenient for you.

As soon as Tony’s out of sight, you go back inside the house, a thousand things running through your head by the time you’ve reached the third floor. Fishing your key out of your pocket, you’re caught off guard when Nat whisks the door open with a triumphant look on her face.

“So turns out you’re not such a nun after all,” the redhead grins wickedly. “Who was that, hm?” Your lips move to deny her statement but she instantly shuts you down. “Don’t you dare lie to my face, Y/N. I know what I heard. You’ve got a man on the side, haven’t you? A sugar daddy. And that’s why you never date.”

Tagging: @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @howlingbarnes @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @barnes-heaven @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @its-not-a-phase-hux @melconnor2007 @ivvitm1109 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @camigt1999 @learisa @curlyexpat @palaiasaurus64 @fanndas-snow-goddess @crisssivonne @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @supernaturaldean65 @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @aletheladyinred @tessiethompson @xbergiex @reniescarlett @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @lovemarvelousfics @yknott81 @rrwilson66 @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers @sammyissassy @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @kudosia @bellejeunefillesansmerci @lumelgy @mizzzpink @southernbellestatues @daringtodreamawake @neurotic-narwhal @cokamarie24 @blue1928 @movingonto-betterthings @breezy1415 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @jesspfly @weenie-butt @debzybrazy @fuckingchaotic  @always-an-evans-addict @petersunderroos  @thegreentgirl @nedthegay @eve1978 @yourtropegirl @4theluvofall @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @pineapplebooboo @curvybihufflepuff @thefridgeismybestie @supernatural508

[hellomissmabel]

Nothing under 7 inches (2)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Baker!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Mentions of a sugar daddy/baby relationship. Mentions of sex but nothing NSFW. Mentions of disease. It’s also unedited haha

Word count: 3k

Summary: Bucky is a baker in Y/N’s hometown and with her mother’s birthday right around the corner, he’s excited to see her again. Y/N however doesn’t plan on staying for too long and aims to return to the city life, a dirty little secret getting in the way of her love life.

A/N: My prompt was “cottage”. This fic is written for @soldatbarnes her writing challenge.

Series masterlist can be found here

Previously

“So turns out you’re not such a nun after all,” the redhead grins wickedly. “Who was that, hm?” Your lips move to deny her statement but she instantly shuts you down. “Don’t you dare lie to my face, Y/N. I know what I heard. You’ve got a man on the side, haven’t you? A sugar daddy. And that’s why you never date.”

“Nat,” you address her in a warning tone, worried she’ll jump to incorrect conclusions. “Before you say anything else, would you please let me explain?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she nods softly. “I’m listening.”

She closes the front door behind her, stepping inside the hallway so your conversation is more private. “First of all, I am not a prostitute or an escort. If that’s what you’re thinking, you’re so wrong. But that man you saw, he’s some kind of benefactor to me. Some people would call him a sugar daddy, but I’d rather not use that term.”

Natasha squints her eyes at you but doesn’t say anything – yet. Taking a deep breath, you continue in a hushed voice. “Tony and I met at a party. Sharon had set me up with this guy, Sam Wilson. We were supposed to go for a drink at a bar but ended up at a frat party instead. Turns out Sam was more interested in getting to know the hostess than me. So I sat down at the bar and ordered myself a drink, waiting for a reply from Sharon.”

“I was about to leave when Tony came up to me and offered to buy me another drink. I wanted to refuse but there was something about him… I just couldn’t say no. So we had a couple drinks and afterward he asked his driver to take me home. I woke up to a delivery of two dozen red roses from Tony.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at this and makes a gagging noise, not one to fall for grand romantic gestures. “He took me to dinner, and after dinner came lunch and after lunch there was breakfast. Like I said, there was just something about him that intrigued me. I thought I had found a man where I could really tick all the boxes.”

“But you were wrong.” Nat purses her lips and gives you a sour look. “Surprise, surprise.”

You didn’t feel the need to tell Natasha the whole story, but she kept digging and prying, giving you no other option but to share it with her after all. “We had rented a hotel room for the night. The next morning, room service knocked on my door and Tony was nowhere to be found. The hotel bill had been paid already and there was a note and a check on the bedside table… for services rendered.”

The redhead scrunches up her nose in disgust. “Such an asshole!”

You tell her to keep her voice down, holding a finger to your lips. “I called him for an explanation, demanding he’d talk to me face to face. So we met up at the same bar we first met.”

“Let me guess,” Natasha hijacks your clarification, “He just used you for sex.”

Giving her a hard glare, you ignore her comment. “No,” you reply harshly through gritted teeth, getting frustrated by Nat’s tendency to jump the gun all too eagerly. “He told me about his divorce and how he found out his now ex-wife had hired a girl, an escort to seduce him so she could divorce him on grounds of infidelity and ask for more money. He thought I was that girl. Later he found out that his wife only said that to anger him.”

“Still, what happened really hurt me and I didn’t feel like continuing the relationship. But Tony wanted to give us another shot… He had already fallen for me and thought he could buy my love with expensive gifts and such. At first I let him because I really needed the money, and I still do.”

You look down at your feet, a guilty expression etching your face with the shame that bubbles up in your chest. “That’s how we came to our present arrangement…”

“You have sex with him in exchange for money?” Natasha hits the nail right on its head.

You confirm with a slight nod of your head, accompanied by a heavy sigh. “Tony… despite his flirtatious nature… I believe he really does love me.”

Your answer is met with a scoff. “Love? A guy like that doesn’t know what love is.”

“I need the money, Nat.” You gently rest your hand on her shoulder. “I have student loans to pay off and medical bills and…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Natasha sighs, getting a little fed up by your need to clear your name. But as soon as you mention medical bills, you’ve grasped her attention again. “Medical bills? I know about your student loans, but I thought your parents were helping you with those?”

Eying her awkwardly, you cough once to voice your uneasiness with the subject. Yet Natasha isn’t one to let you get off the hook that easy. “Come on, Y/N. You’ve already told me this much…”

“I – I -,” you stutter in an attempt to find the courage to speak plainly. “I am…,” you swallow thickly. “I’m sick, Nat. I have sickle cell disease.”

The redheads eyes soften at your words, her arms enveloping you in a comforting hug while she whispers soothing, sweet nothings in your ear. “I got it from my father,” you mumble into the fabric of her shirt. “And my kid will most likely get it, too.”

Coming face to face with your roommate again, she stares into your eyes with a puzzled expression, like she is debating something in the clever head of hers. Or plotting. You never know with Nat. “I won’t tell anyone, Y/N. I won’t do that to you.”

“Thank, Nat. I appreciate it,” you exhale in relief.

“But,” she continues and you dread what’s coming next, “You gotta stop seeing that guy. I’m sure there are other ways to pay for your medical expenses. You don’t need a sugar daddy. You don’t need him.”

“Nat,” you whine softly, distancing yourself from her. “I know. Just one more party on Friday and then I’m done.”

“Sounds like you have a busy weekend ahead,” Natasha comments dryly, clearly not amused. “Your trip home, the party, your dinner date with Steve. Yeah, I heard,” she adds matter-of-factly, marking the end of your conversation. “Sharon has a very loud voice.”

Your friend reaches for the door knob to enter the apartment again and you follow right behind her. She goes straight back to the couch to finish up on her article and you head back to your room where Sharon is still waiting for you, bored out of her mind.

“What took  you so long!,” she practically yells at you, throwing her phone on the bed as dramatically as she can to make her point.

“I’m sorry. Just a guy from work handing over some paperwork. He’s really chatty.”

Sharon doesn’t question it any further and goes back to scrolling on her phone. You look over her shoulder and see she’s checking out guys on Tinder again, but when you want to make a comment about it, she shuts you down at once.

“Look who we have here,” she coos as she shows you the picture on the screen of her phone. It’s a pic of Steve and as she wiggles her eyebrows at you, she secretly swipes right.

“Steve’s on Tinder?,” you gasps as you open your closet, prompting a giggle from your friend’s lips. “How scandalous…” You go back to selecting a couple of clothes that you’re sure you want to take with you, too busy to notice her gloating when she finds out it’s a match, your attention focused on packing your suitcase.

Bucky waits for you at the train station, casually leaning against his car as he watches you get off the train and run towards him, right into his arms. “Hi there, doll,” he greets you with that one pet name you’ve always loved so much. It’s a pleasure to hear your name roll off his tongue, but you can’t resist the warm and fuzzy feeling that erupts in your tummy when he calls you doll.

He’s just as you remember. That same brown hair brushing his shoulders ever so slightly, those same baby blues that can pierce your heart like an ice pick, and a mild scruff dusting his razor sharp jawline. “I’ve missed you, Buck.”

“Likewise.” His breath fans your cheek as he presses a tender kiss to your skin, smelling like cookie dough and sugar, a dash of flour on his plaid shirt. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

The brunet picks up your luggage and puts it in the trunk of his car, opening the door to the passenger side for you. He rushes to the other side and slides into his car, revving the engine for added effect. He’s still a bit of a show-off too, you see.

The car ride home is filled with light banter and a lot of catching up. Bucky tells you that his bakery has been getting a lot more attention, people coming from all around to taste his marvellous white chocolate cheesecake. You tell Bucky you finally managed to get a job in graphic design for a company that specialises in coming up with, creating and designing advertisements.

“Seems you made it big in the Big Apple,” he whistles lowly, impressed by your achievements.

“I can say the same for you, Buck. Why haven’t you moved to a bigger city yet? You’re so talented! And it’s a shame to deprive the world of your heavenly pastries!”

Bucky’s grip on the wheel tightens. “Nah, I’m good here. This is where I belong,” is his answer.

What follows is a short silence, your nerves tested by Bucky’s reluctance to start another conversation. You have no clue why this struck such a sensitive nerve, but you decide to drop it anyway. “So… what kind of cake have you made for my mom?”

“Raspberry chocolate cake,” he chuckles softly. “She didn’t want anything with too much chocolate.”

You burst into a fit of hearty laughter, giggling at your mother’s ridiculous reasoning. “Let me guess, the raspberries make it healthy?”

He smirks and gazes over to you, promptly taking your hand in his and squeezing it affectionately. “God, I’ve missed the sound of your laugh.”

You don’t know how to react to his sudden touch, so you pull back your hand after a little hesitation. Bucky is surprised by your reaction and puts his hand back on the wheel, shifting gears when he reaches a red light and stops the motor.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…”

“It’s fine, Y/N,” he sighs as he leans the back of his head against the head rest.  “I shouldn’t have… I guess some part of me still thinks we’re together.”

Turning your head to look outside, you focus your eyes on anything but the man sitting next to you, deflecting his words and banning all memories from your mind. “I need you to drive me back Thursday evening, not Friday morning. It’s okay if you can’t, I’ll just take the train back again.”

“No,” he quickly replies, “I’ll drive you back. Why you need to be back in New York so soon?”

You shrug, humming quietly as you see your parents’ house pop up in the distance. “A boring office party. I have to go because I’m up for promotion and I wanna make a good impression.”

Parking the car outside the house, Bucky takes a couple more minutes to just look at you, cupping your cheek so you’re looking back at him, too. You don’t say anything, your lips don’t move and your mind stop reeling for just those few seconds. But it feels like an eternity, an eternity of Bucky.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t fall in love with you again,” Bucky whispers eventually, smiling sadly at the girl in front of him. “But I guess I never fell out of love with you in the first place.”

Tagging: @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @howlingbarnes @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @barnes-heaven @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @its-not-a-phase-hux @melconnor2007 @ivvitm1109 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @camigt1999 @learisa @curlyexpat @palaiasaurus64 @fanndas-snow-goddess @crisssivonne @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @supernaturaldean65 @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @aletheladyinred @tessiethompson @xbergiex @reniescarlett @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @lovemarvelousfics @yknott81 @rrwilson66 @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers @sammyissassy @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @kudosia @bellejeunefillesansmerci @lumelgy @mizzzpink @southernbellestatues @daringtodreamawake @neurotic-narwhal @cokamarie24 @blue1928 @movingonto-betterthings @breezy1415 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @jesspfly @weenie-butt @debzybrazy @fuckingchaotic  @always-an-evans-addict @petersunderroos  @thegreentgirl @nedthegay @eve1978 @yourtropegirl @4theluvofall @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @pineapplebooboo @curvybihufflepuff @thefridgeismybestie @supernatural508

Series tag list: @buckyappreciationsociety @alexaduke @incoherentsmiles

Strikethrough means Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you!

[hellomissmabel]

Nothing under 7 inches (4)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Baker!Bucky x reader

Warnings: After a lot of angst in part 3, there is a tiny bit of fluff and hope in part 4. So don’t despair just yet, but don’t get your hopes up too much either.

Word count: 2k

Summary: Bucky is a baker in Y/N’s hometown and with her mother’s birthday right around the corner, he’s excited to see her again. Y/N however doesn’t plan on staying for too long and aims to return to the city life, a dirty little secret getting in the way of her love life.

A/N: My prompt was “cottage”. This fic is written for @soldatbarnes her writing challenge. If you want on the tag list, please send me an ask! I can’t keep track of all the comments.

Series masterlist can be found here

After dinner you rushed up to your room to switch shoes, trading in your comfy sneakers for high heels. Whilst searching your luggage for the heels you took out earlier, you realise you must’ve left them downstairs in the living room before heading towards Bucky. So you take two steps at a time and hurry downstairs again, finding your brother Wade perched on the couch, his feet up on the table and your high heels in his lap as he plays one of his old video games while he waits for the guests to arrive.

“Looking for these, baby sis?,” he chuckles as he holds up your heels. “How high are these anyway? Won’t you break your ankles or something when you fall on your face?”

Shoving his shoulder and taking back your heels, you sit cross-legged next to him on the couch after kicking off your sneakers, dirty from the muddy road to the cottage. “They’re only seven inches and they were a gift from a�� euhm… a friend. They’ve got this rule… nothing under seven inches. Most of my heels are like ten or something…”

Wade rolls his eyes at the word ‘friend’ and sticks his tongue out at you. “Friend? My dick! This shit is expensive, Y/N. It’s got red soles, sis. No way one of your friends could ever afford Louboutins.”

He hands you the second controls and invites you to play with him, giving you a nice way out to avoid the topic any further. But as soon as he beats you for the third time in a row, he notices your mind isn’t really focused on the present and shuts off the television.

“Alright, baby sis, tell me, why do you suddenly have a huge stick up your ass? The girl that I grew up knowing would never risk her life wearing these monsters.”

You gaze at your big brother with big doe eyes, that innocent pitch to your tone worked wonders for you back when you were kids. “They’re for work. And it’s true, a friend gave them to me.”

But Wade doesn’t fall for your act and crosses his arms over his chest, sticking his tongue out at you. “Nah, you can’t fool me, Y/N. Unless you won the jackpot with the lottery or you have some filthy rich guy on the side.”

Wetting your lips as to delay your answer, Wade realises he’s right. “Holy shit, Y/N. It’s true, isn’t it?,” he laughs in surprise. “My baby sis is now a sugar baby.”

You’re too embarrassed to say anything and avert your eyes, looking like a prissy little kid that didn’t get the Christmas present they wanted. “Don’t look like you’ve just eaten a lemon, Y/N,” Wade reason with you, the joke ever present in his voice. “When life hands you lemons…”

“You squeeze ‘em,” you finish the sentence first, a small smile breaking your sour expression.

“That’s right! You squeeze ‘em!” Wade claps his hands and wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you against him. “Now, tell me, how did you manage to squeeze that sugar daddy of yours, hm? I promise I won’t judge. I’m the last person in this house to judge.”

You’ve always felt like you could trust your brother with anything and everything. Your mother would never understand what you were going through, all of her empathy poured into her fictional characters. Your father on the other hand was a good listener, but rarely around. Peggy was always busy with her extracurricular activities, so that left your big brother Wade to cheer you up when you were feeling down. He was your confidant, and still is.

So you confide in him about Tony, about Sharon and how she introduced you to Steve, and finally about your conversation with Bucky. Wade sometimes makes a little, funny comment to lighten the mood but never interrupts you, not even when you start to cry again.

“I thought you guys broke up after high school?,” he eventually whispers softly into your hair. “Or did I miss something?”

“We didn’t really break up, Wade…,” you stutter in between the tears. “We said goodbye and broke up, but we never really broke with each other. And I think that this time, we did.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Wade shushes, his usual sarcastic tongue tied by the overwhelming pain you must be feeling. “You clearly don’t know, do you?”

Batting your eyelashes, heavy with droplets, you free your blurry vision and gaze at your brother, a question on the tip of your tongue. “Don’t know what?”

“The problem is not that Bucky doesn’t want to move to a big city or that you don’t want to stay in a small one. The problem is that you think there’s no way you can work it out. But Y/N, there’s always a solution, even if you don’t see it. Like… I didn’t believe I could give such good advice, but clearly I can.”

“Fuck you, Wade,” you chuckle quietly. “I love you, but fuck you.”

A hearty laugh rumbles through his chest and shakes up your nerves. “I deserve that. I wasn’t there for you. But I’m here for you now and I’m going to help you in any way I can. Starting with Buck.”

Wade scoops you up in his arms and once he’s on his feet, throws you over his shoulder, your protesting cries resonating through the entire house. Luckily the rest of the family is serving drinks on the terrace out back, so they don’t hear the profanities you direct towards your older brother.

“Bucky is finishing up on mom’s cake at the cottage. I’m carrying you there personally.” When you keep screaming at the top of your lungs, he halts in the middle of the hallway and slaps your ass. “Y/N, I’m doing you a favour.” And with those final words, he takes you back to the cottage, eventually shutting you up.

Bucky has just added the finishing touches to the decorations to your mom’s raspberry chocolate birthday cake, like Wade predicted, when he heard some kind of argument going on outside. Peering out of his window, he sees Wade hoisting you up in the air by means of teasing you before setting you back down.

“What’s going on?,” he queries as he dusts off his hands on his apron as you eye your brother with an angry gaze.

Wade just straightens his back and answers straight to the point. “Y/N loves you. You love Y/N. I’m taking the cake back to mom while you get dead honest with each other.”

Your brother points to you first, his eyes telling you he means serious business. “You’re gonna tell him everything. And then you’re going to find a solution that fits you both.” Then he directs his finger to Bucky. “And you,” he begins with a sigh. “You’re gonna listen and shut up until she tells you to talk. You’re not gonna argue, you’re just gonna listen. And then you’re going to kiss and make up.”

Wade’s statement leaves no room for interpretation and with one nod of his head in your direction, he leaves you in the lion’s den. Bucky is nailed to the ground in astonishment, not intimidated by your brother but by his words and he knows Wade’s only doing this with the best of intentions.

So after a short while, Bucky proposes something new. “How about we bake a cake together?”

With ardent eyes you scan him, searching for signs of mockery or malicious intent. But Bucky is just Bucky, in all his innocence and his boyishness. He doesn’t want to make you feel even worse than you already do, he only wants to bake a cake with you to clear the air and just talk.

“O-Okay,” you stutter after you’ve assessed the potential heartbreak that could come from this situation. Yet Bucky means no harm, and with a soft smile playing on his lips he gathers all the ingredients he has left in his kitchen.

Taking out some milk and honey, Bucky’s hip subtly bumps into yours as you both reach for the spatula. “Sorry!,” you whispers in a hushes tone as Bucky takes a few steps back, careful not to break the proverbial glass cage surrounding you, distancing you from him.

“What are we making?,” you ask gingerly while Bucky starts to add eggs to the mixture.

“White chocolate honeycomb mud cake,” Bucky smiles as his eyes light up like a Christmas tree. I still have a lot of chocolate left and your dad brought me a jar of honey last week from your aunt’s bee hives. But since I don’t really eat honey…”

Humming while you pour the honey bit by bit, your fingertips caresses Bucky’s hand while he stirs the batter of the cake. “I love honey, it’s so sweet. I could finish that jar all by myself in just one day.”

“You’ve always had a big sweet tooth, Y/N. I recall a time when I had added too much sweetener to the carrot cake I’d made for the town fair. Because everybody wanted to be polite, they finished their piece but they never came back for a second one. So I had made all this cake and people only ate one fourth of it. But then you walked by and decided you wanted to taste for yourself if it was as horribly sweet as people said it was.”

“And I ended up eating half of what was left because I loved it so much,” you laugh happily in remembrance. “Fall came early that year and Peggy had decided to pay us a visit. Wade had just left for Los Angeles and she noticed how much I was hurting, so she dragged me to the town fair. She made me try everything, from the disgusting vegan cookies that wannabe cheerleader Maria made to that old lady’s chicken broth. But then I tried your carrot cake and just knew that this was the best thing I’d ever eat in my entire life.”

“You still remember that day? It was long before Sharon introduced us.”

In all the giddiness that the memory inspires in you, the filter keeping your thoughts at bay slowly dissipates while you’re reminiscing. “Of course I still remember that day,” you confirm with a hearty chuckle, “I couldn’t keep my eyes off the handsome brunet near the willow tree with his carrot cake and his adorable puppy dog eyes.”

It’s as if Bucky’s heart is being ripped from his chest. All this time, you’ve been dancing around each other, both afraid to make a move. But not anymore, even though your words still resonate harshly in his heart, he has to kiss you. He has to make sure he kisses you now or all will be lost. He’s still got a shot, he knows it and wants to seize it before your self-destructive and overly protective nature bombards the entire thing.

He drops the spatula and takes the spoon of honey from you, cupping your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours in adamant desire. Yet Bucky doesn’t kiss you with lust or passion, rather with moderation and above all, adoration. And the moment your lips lock, he starts to overflow your system, pushing just the right buttons to make you yield.

Nonetheless, the kiss is different from before in various ways. A kiss from teenage Bucky is cautious and clumsy yet feverish and keen for your touch. But a kiss from adult Bucky is confident and calm yet soft and sweet. His eyes bore into yours with a loving intensity when your lips part. “I love you,” are the only three words he leaves hovering over you like the sword of Damocles. “And I know you love me, too.”

“Wade is right, we have to talk. So let me tell you what’s going to happen,” he continues after another longing kiss. “We’re going to put this cake in the oven and then we’re going to kiss some more and make up.”

Tagging: @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @howlingbarnes @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @barnes-heaven @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @its-not-a-phase-hux @melconnor2007 @ivvitm1109 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @camigt1999 @learisa @curlyexpat @palaiasaurus64 @fanndas-snow-goddess @crisssivonne @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @aletheladyinred @bhuckys @xbergiex @reniescarlett @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @lovemarvelousfics @yknott81 @rrwilson66 @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers @sammyissassy @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @kudosia @bellejeunefillesansmerci @lumelgy @mizzzpink @southernbellestatues @daringtodreamawake @neurotic-narwhal @cokamarie24 @blue1928 @movingonto-betterthings @breezy1415 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @jesspfly @weenie-butt @debzybrazy @fuckingchaotic  @always-an-evans-addict @petersunderroos  @thegreentgirl @nedthegay @eve1978 @yourtropegirl @4theluvofall @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @pineapplebooboo @curvybihufflepuff @thefridgeismybestie @supernatural508 @supernaturaldean67 @ssweet-empowerment @cant-decide-at-this-moment

Series tag list: @buckyappreciationsociety @alexaduke @incoherentsmiles @iamthemaskhewears @booksb4boys69

Strikethrough means Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you!

[hellomissmabel]

Nothing under 7 inches (3)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Baker!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Aaaaaaaaangst

Word count: 3k

Summary: Bucky is a baker in Y/N’s hometown and with her mother’s birthday right around the corner, he’s excited to see her again. Y/N however doesn’t plan on staying for too long and aims to return to the city life, a dirty little secret getting in the way of her love life.

A/N: My prompt was “cottage”. This fic is written for @soldatbarnes her writing challenge. If you want on the tag list, please send me an ask! I can’t keep track of all the comments.

Series masterlist can be found here

Parking the car outside the house, Bucky takes a couple more minutes to just look at you, cupping your cheek so you’re looking back at him, too. You don’t say anything, your lips don’t move and your mind stop reeling for just those few seconds. But it feels like an eternity, an eternity of Bucky.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t fall in love with you again,” Bucky whispers eventually, smiling sadly at the girl in front of him. “But I guess I never fell out of love with you in the first place.”

You would’ve slapped Bucky right there and then if your mother hadn’t rushed out of the house to welcome you back. You wanted to scream at him for dropping such a bomb of emotions on you. It’s okay for him to still have feelings for you, but you can see it in his eyes that everything you say and do gives him more hope that one day you’ll reconcile and get back together. And frankly, you don’t think that day will ever come, the struggle still too great.

Turning your body away from Bucky, ready to albeit jump out of the car as anger rolls off you in thick waves, you address him very coldly as to not get his hopes up even more. “Bucky… we have to talk. I – I can’t do this now, so I’ll come by the cottage before dinner, okay? Mom said she wanted to have a quiet family dinner before the first guests show up for dessert. We can walk back to the house together.”

There’s still a certain softness to your tone, because he’s still ‘your’ Bucky. And he knows that he might’ve overstepped by confessing his love for you, but he’s just not ready to let you go. So he nods softly, his lips forming a small, tentative smile. “Okay…”

“You’re part of the family after all, Buck,” you whisper kindly as you move out of the car, “Always have been, always will be.”

The reunion with your mother is nothing short of bittersweet. She immediately pushes you to invite Bucky in, the sparkle in her eyes betraying her true intentions. When you tell her off by saying Bucky’s got some things to take care of first, her voice drops an octave as she rushes you to your old room, informing you that she hasn’t changed a thing about it.

And sure enough, your wall is still fully occupied by pictures of you and Sharon, you and some other friends, and of course you and Bucky. You also notice that your dad’s old vinyl collection has found its way to the back of your room as well, next to the speakers you used on a daily basis to drown out the worries and the darker moments.

Your mother eventually leaves you to settle down, after explaining to you how she finally managed to convince your father to wear a tie for dinner. Nostalgia then overwhelms you as you open up your suitcase and take out the dress you’ve bought just for this occasion. It’s a pretty modest dress but it also matches the colour of your mother’s eyes.

With the volume on max, you dance across your room and shake your curves to some of the songs you used to worship in high school. As you’re finishing up on your plum lipstick, “Teenage Dirtbag” is blasting through the speakers, a familiar dark-haired woman makes an appearance at your bedroom door. Gracefully she leans against the frame of the door, watching you with a playful smile tugging the corners of her lips upwards.

“PEGGY!,” you exclaim at the top of your lungs as you rush towards your sister to give hear a big bear hug. The brunet laughs heartily at her little sister’s enthusiasm and pecks your temple tenderly. “I didn’t know you were going to make it! London is such a long way.”

She shakes her head, giving you a little squeeze before taking  your hand in hers and sitting you both down on the bed. “I’m so happy to see you again, Y/N. I was hoping we could talk and catch up a bit before we head down for dinner.”

Biting your lower lip, you eye her apologetically. “I promise to go get Bucky before dinner. I’m sorry but we can always talk after?”

“Bucky, hm? Are you two warming up again?,” Peggy asks, glowing with happiness at the thought of a possible reunion.

But her glee is short-lived when you look away. “We just need to talk a couple things out, that’s all. We are not getting back together.”

Peggy hears the sheer determination in your voice and decides to drop the subject, instead shifting to another, important topic she wanted to cover with you before dinner. “Y/N, has dad talked to you already? About the house?”

You lock eyes gain, giving her a puzzled look. “No. What’s wrong with the house?”

Your big sister takes her time explaining the dilemma that’s been keeping your parents busy these past few months. “This house used to support two adults and three kids. But ever since we you, Wade and I moved out, this house is just too big for just mom and dad. So they’ve been thinking of putting it on the market…”

“But -,” you start but Peggy is quicker and places a tender hand on your knee.

“They’ve already got their eyes on a cottage like Bucky’s. Which also brings the question… Does Bucky wanna stay in the cottage? If so, mom and dad are willing to sell it to him for a soft price…” Her perfect red mouth forms a sad smile. “After all, he’s part of the family, too.”

“I’ll ask him what he wants to do,” you reply as you blink your eyes in surprise. “Where are mom and dad going to move to, Peggy?”

“Washington,” she answers after a heartbeat of silence. “With me in London, Wade in LA and you in New York,… There isn’t much left to keep them here… And lots of dad’s friends like Fury and Coulson live in Washington as well.”

Opening and closing your mouth again, you decide against reasoning with Peggy. You understand that this decision has been a long time coming. Nevertheless, it hurts to part ways with the house that’s been such a warm home and shelter to you for all these years. Your sister knows this and leaves you to collect your thoughts, caressing your cheek shortly before exiting your room.

There’s a single tear trickling down your face when you get up and grab your phone, sending a quick text to Bucky to let him know you’re coming. Putting on your sneakers and saving your high heels for when you come back, you step out of the door and head down the back towards Bucky’s cottage.

It’s been his place ever since his father kicked him out at 17 and you asked your parents if your brand new boyfriend could crash there for a couple days. Your parents didn’t use the cottage anyway, unless for storage, and agreed after you promised to pass your exams with honours. But those couple days turned into weeks and into months, until you and Bucky has been going steady for a year and the cottage became his permanent residence.

Bucky’s waiting for you on the porch, his arms crossed over his chest so his dress shirt seems a litter tighter. He’s flipping his phone between his fingers and cards a hand through his hair, unaware of your presence until you’re standing right in front of him.

“Hi, Buck,” you greet him softly, resting your hand on his to shake him from his thoughts and prompt him to look up at you with those ruthless baby blues. They still rip your heart apart after all these years, their Icelandic beauty as cold as a freezer yet as warm as a ray of sunshine when they fall on you.

“Y/N,” he chuckles, straightening his back and shoving his phone in his back pocket before hugging you. The gesture catches you off guard, and you awkwardly just stand there while Bucky’s arm wrap around you like a golden cage.

Soon he notices your discomfort and quickly takes a step back, leaning against the wooden frame of the cottage. “Sorry,” he apologises quickly, eyes cast towards the ground. “Couldn’t help it.”

“We need to talk, Bucky,” you say as you nudge his shoe with the tip of your sneakers and he shoots you a small smile as he notices you’re wearing trainers under your fancy dress.

“I’ve never seen you in a dress that colour,” he comments on your outfit.

You roll your eyes at his compliment. Bucky’s never seen you in a dress like this before, apart from your prom dress and the sundresses you’d wear when you were spending your summer afternoons at the lake. Not even on your first date, when you shared milkshake after milkshake at the local diner, you wore skinny jeans and a nice sweater.

The only time you do wear a dress is when Tony asks you to. Fortunately, Bucky isn’t around to see Tony parade around with you on his arm, clad in an expensive gown he purchased for you. “It’s a special occasion,” you shrug when your hands smooth over the velvety dress. “You wanna tag along?”

Bucky follows suit as you retrace your steps back to the house, both of you waiting for the other to speak first. You send him a couple sideway glances and he clears his throat. “Y/N… About what I said in the car...”

You stop in your tracks, gazing up at him with woeful eyes. “Bucky? You know why I left, don’t you?” The brunet remains basking in the silent light of the late afternoon, searching for something that isn’t there anymore. “It wasn’t because I didn’t love you. A part of me will always love you.”

“Then why did you break up with me?,” he questions carefully, hoping still.

“I – I broke up with you because we had different dreams. All you ever wanted is a wife, kids and a bakery. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but I’ve always felt like there’s something more, like there can be something more out there for me. I grew up here and I loved it here, until I came to a point where I’d seen it all. I wanted to explore, I wanted to see where life outside of this town would take me. I wanted to…”

“Find yourself?,” Bucky finishes your sentence with a scoff, thinking back to the day you said your goodbyes. “Because I’ve heard that bullshit before. You’ve told me that lie before.”

“It’s not bullshit, Buck, and neither is it a lie,” you defend yourself, pulling up those walls you have been trying to break down for so long. “I regret leaving you, I regret breaking your heart. Believe me, I regret that you’re not a constant figure in my life anymore. But I would’ve regretted it more if I had stayed, if I had stayed here, forever wondering what could’ve been…”

“Y/N, I would’ve followed you anywhere! I would’ve waited for you! But instead you just dumped me like a piece of garbage. You didn’t even tell me you were leaving until an hour before the last train!”

His voice grows softer, as do his eyes as he grabs your hands in his and squeezes them gently. “You complete me, Y/N. I will never want nor love anyone else but you. You complete me, so wh1y can’t I complete you? Just tell me what I have to do to complete you.”

Tearing your hands away from his, you just stand there, seething and confused. “I don’t need anyone to complete me, I don’t need a guy to complete me. I needed to complete myself first before I could even think about settling down and having kids and doing all those things you were talking about. I just wasn’t ready. I needed to love and complete myself first.”

You can tell how much it pains Bucky to be completely honest with him, his shoulders slumped as his face falls in a morose expression. “I will never forgive you,” he mumbles under his breath, shying away from your penitent gaze.

His voice is steadier when he speaks to you directly, eyes stern and challenging. “I forgave you for leaving, because I love you. But I will never forgive you for this, because now I just…” A shuddering sigh falls past Bucky’s lips and you know it’s over. “Now you just mean nothing to me, like I seem to mean nothing to you.”

Wanting to refute his words, you cast aside the longing to run away and make a bold move instead, crossing Bucky’s path as he moves away from you and pushing hard against his chest. “Don’t you get it?!”, you scream at him with all that you have in you, not even caring if they hear you from miles away.

“I was suffocating, long before I fell in love with you!” Another shove to his torso and Bucky bounces back on the heels of his feet, astonished by the power you set behind your movements, noticing the tears streaming down your face.

“I was miserable. My brother and sister were out there living their own lives and I didn’t have anybody. Dad was a workaholic and my mother only had attention for me when she wasn’t writing on her next novel. I was fucking miserable and when I told Sharon about it, all she could say was that she’ll hook me up with some nice guy that would take my mind off things straightaway.”

Furiously you wipe away the wetness gathering in your eyes. “She’s a good friend but she didn’t understand. Even though I had friends, I felt so alone. And then Sharon introduced me to you and it seemed as if there was a silver lining for me after all.”

Bucky’s ears don’t know how to handle your confession. He didn’t know you were feeling this way, he didn’t know how deep the roots of your pain went. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. But if you just would’ve told me, I could’ve -” he whispers sadly, your hands moving of their own volition and striking him with your palm right in the face.

“Don’t feel sorry for me,” you cry out, sobbing loudly and aching for the relief of his warmth and comfort. “There is absolutely nothing you could’ve done! I messed things up! I needed to get out, I just needed to get out…”

He’s slightly taken aback by your sudden outburst, his cheek burning in the aftermath. But he doesn’t let this bring him off balance, yet he throws his arms around you and cradles your face on his chest. “I wanna go back to New York,” you sob eventually, looking up at him with teary eyes. “But I don’t want to spoil mom’s birthday party.”

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, he smiles down at you. “I know. I know, Y/N. I’ll take you back first thing tomorrow morning, okay?”

You agree and stay enveloped in Bucky’s arms for a minute longer, until you can hear the happy cries of your parents when your brother Wade arrives. Slowly detangling yourself from Bucky, you press a tentative yet tender kiss to his cheek, apologising profusely. He of course says it’s nothing to worry about.

Before you go back inside, he laces one arm around your waist again to make sure you’re not bolting again. Holding you securely tucked into his side, you walk up together down the road and to the front where Wade, Peggy and your parents are waiting for you.

“I didn’t mean it,” Bucky whispers as he pecks the crown of your hair. “I still love you. You still mean the world to me. But now I understand that I have to let you go.”

A part of you is glad that Bucky didn’t cast you aside like he said he would, but another part of you feels a pang of guilt. It erupts in your chest like a bomb and it makes you feel like a wounded soldier, shell shocked and ready to accept their untimely fate. You didn’t know it would feel this way, you didn’t know that it would feel so ambiguous. You didn’t know that Bucky would still have such an effect on you.

“There she is,” your brother Wade exclaims as he launches himself at you, albeit tearing you away from Bucky and twirling you around in his arms. “My baby sister!”

The whole family bursts into hearty laughter and somewhere you find it in yourself to share in their laughter. Nevertheless, as your eyes lock with Bucky’s again, there’s a tension between you two that’s holding you back. And not just holding you back from going forward with your plan and rushing back to New York, where Tony is waiting for his princess to spoil rotten. But also holding you back from closing this chapter in your life completely.

Wade lets you ride on his back for old times’ sake and when everybody has found their designated seat at the table, yours next to Bucky as per your mother’s request, your father gives a heartfelt toast. Nobody seems to question your tears, deeming them as happy tears, as your mother and sister are moved by your father’s beautiful words as well.

But you’re not crying because of your father’s ode to your mother. You’re not crying because it’s your mother’s birthday and everybody made it back home. No, you’re crying because this will be the last time, the last time you’ll get the share a meal together with your family and Bucky. You’re crying because you’re now definitely breaking with the past and it isn’t a clean break like you’d aspired.

And even though Bucky is putting up a strong front and a straight face, too, he is slowly accepting that he’s better off without you, that he can now move on with his life. It’s a thought that over time will fill him with joy, or so you hope. You hope that every single soul at this table will find happiness in their hearts. You hope that everybody is happy.

Everybody is happy, yet you’re not.

Tagging: @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @howlingbarnes @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @barnes-heaven @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @its-not-a-phase-hux @melconnor2007 @ivvitm1109 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @camigt1999 @learisa @curlyexpat @palaiasaurus64 @fanndas-snow-goddess @crisssivonne @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @aletheladyinred @bhuckys @xbergiex @reniescarlett @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @lovemarvelousfics @yknott81 @rrwilson66 @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers @sammyissassy @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @kudosia @bellejeunefillesansmerci @lumelgy @mizzzpink @southernbellestatues @daringtodreamawake @neurotic-narwhal @cokamarie24 @blue1928 @movingonto-betterthings @breezy1415 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @jesspfly @weenie-butt @debzybrazy @fuckingchaotic  @always-an-evans-addict @petersunderroos  @thegreentgirl @nedthegay @eve1978 @yourtropegirl @4theluvofall @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @pineapplebooboo @curvybihufflepuff @thefridgeismybestie @supernatural508 @supernaturaldean67

Series tag list: @buckyappreciationsociety @alexaduke @incoherentsmiles @iamthemaskhewears @booksb4boys69

Strikethrough means Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you!

[hellomissmabel]

Nothing under 7 inches masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7