#wwii bucky x reader

[jointherebellion215]

Worth

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: You're swept off your feet by one Major John C. Egan, and you love every second of it. Sequel to Birdie.

Word Count: 3.0k

Tags: female!reader, mechanic!reader, women™, period typical sexism & misogyny, fun date night, dude w/ a small dick gets rightfully called out, mostly just fun date stuff, tons of fluff

A/N: Hello all! Thank you so much for the kind words on Birdie. I really appreciate everyone's comments, they warm my heart right up. I almost didn't write this, but the thought of having these two smooch it up was too good to pass up. I also completely headcanon that Bucky has the biggest sweet tooth, oops. As always, I'd be most gracious if you were to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog :)

Read the OC Version of this story on AO3!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, please don't copy, repost, or translate my writing without explicit prior permission. Don't even think about it, AI!

A knock at the door brings butterflies to your stomach.

“Oh, he’s here!” Irene shouts, which is immediately met with your shushing, as well as Teresa’s.

You nervously pat your hair and check over your outfit for the evening. You’re spending your second day’s leave on a date with Bucky Egan. He had approached you last night at the pub, asking if you wanted to grab dinner. Alone. 

You, of course, said yes.

Teresa and Irene go to answer the door while you gather your purse, stuffing it with your essentials. Your friends greet him at the same time, sounding like twins.

“Good evening, Major!”

“Good evening, Major!”

You hear his deep voice reply, only a small bit of surprise leaking into his voice.

“Good evening, ladies. Is Birdie around? We have dinner plans.”

“I’m here! Hi.” You step around the wall that hides you from the front door, taking a look at the man you’d been crushing on for months. He stands tall and confident in his neatly pressed uniform, hat covering most of his dark curls. His mouth gapes, giving you a once over and attempting to speak up.

“I- You-…Uh, wow. Y-you look…” But any sweet words he attempts to say are interrupted by Irene, who comes in hot with a manic smile.

“Did you know that my daddy taught me how to shoot when I was just a little girl? I’m real good at it. They call me Oakley, back home, cause of how great a marksman I am. Y’know, like Annie Oakley?” She stepped forward, puffing up her chest and giving a frightening grin to Major Egan. You and Teresa exchanged confused looks, not knowing quite where she was going with this.

“I’m not allowed a sidearm or a rifle over here, but I’m sure I could easily borrow one from any of the fellas on base should you break my best friend’s hea—”

“OKAY! We don’t wanna be late, all the tables might be taken soon. Gotta go. Love you. Bye!” You quickly shove past the blonde, stepping over the threshold. You take Bucky’s hand and practically drag his tall form down the hallway, away from your best friend’s attempt at a shovel talk.

You faintly hear Teresa’s well wishes to you amid the aggressively whispered conversation she has with Irene. The last words you hear before the elevator door closes in front of you are a heavily accented protest from Irene.

“What? I was just trying to..!”

The pair of you stand in the elevator in silence. A slight rocking indicates the starting motion of it, which snaps you back to reality. Looking down, you realize that you’re still holding hands with Bucky. You quickly separate your hand from his, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Your friends seem nice.”

Your head snaps to glance at Bucky, who is already looking at you. A sincere smile graces his face, not a hint of mocking in his eyes. 

“I’m glad you have them looking out for you.” 

You feel your face start to cool down, making you comfortable enough to respond. 

“They drive me nuts sometimes. But they’re the best friends I could ever ask for.” You mean every word. 

You see John nod, so you turn back to look to the elevator doors in front of you. An awkward pause.

“You look beautiful.”

Another pause. “What?”

“It’s what I meant to say earlier. That you look beautiful. Because you do.”

Heat quickly returns to your cheeks, spreading throughout your whole upper body. You give a bashful smile, peeking up at him through your lashes. You gaze into his eyes for a moment.

“Thank you, Johnny. You look quite handsome yourself.” The Major adjusts his hat, covering just the tips of his ears. He returns your gaze with an uncharacteristically nervous grin. The floor gives a slight rattle, elevator door and gate opening to reveal the lobby.

John straightens up, holding out his arm for you to take. You tentatively weave your hand within the crook of his elbow. He gently presses his arm in, bringing your body closer to his. 

You meet your other hand in its position and let Bucky lead you out of the hotel and into the evening air.

✨

“That was so delicious! I never knew that a roast could be so tender…”

The pair of you were walking arm-in-arm down a cobblestone street, just having finished dinner. It was a wonderful time. Bucky had been the perfect gentleman, but made his interest in you clear without being sleezy.

He was entirely focused on you the whole time. He asked questions and was genuinely invested in your answers. Conversation came to the two of you like a duck to water. After a shared glass of wine, his hand had slowly inched towards yours. Soon he had cradled it in his, like you were a precious commodity, until your meals arrived. You could hardly keep your eyes off of each other long enough to even promptly acknowledge the wait staff, which you were sure annoyed some and amused others.

Safe to say, John Egan was doing his best to sweep you off your feet.

You hadn’t discussed any other plans for after dinner, but the walk you’re on now is nice enough to give you reason to stick close together.

Bucky nods along, “And that fruit tart? Incredible.”

You laugh, leaning into your date, “I knew that would be your favorite part. You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, don’t you?” 

Bucky holds his hands up with a mischievous smirk on his face, “Hey, I plead the fifth.” 

“I’ll admit, I’ve never seen someone so adamant on having some coffee with his sugar.” You continue to tease him. He nudges you playfully, giving a smooth grin in return.

“Hey, we’re in a war! If you see something sweet,” Bucky surprises you by picking you up and twirling you around, getting a full belly laugh from you as he sets you back on the ground.

“You gotta snatch it up and enjoy it while you can.”

You have a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about food. 

By that point, you’re leaning against his front, hands on both of his shoulders. The moment has shifted into something else. Something different. His eyes roam your face, eventually stopping on your lips. Just as he starts to lean in, the moment is shattered by the sound of instruments starting up nearby. Bucky flinches, cursing the ill-timed disruption. 

Oblivious to his turmoil, you gasp in delight and look around for the source of the music.

“Do you hear that? I think there’s a band playing!” 

You spot a few people walk into what looks like a club. It barely a stone’s throw from where you’re both currently standing. 

Bucky quickly recovers, “Should we grab a drink? Have a dance or two?”

You beam at him, and his heart stutters in his chest once more. After you give a nod, you place your hand in his arm and let him lead you into the club.

The two of you step into the establishment, and the energy is almost electric. There are mills of people walking about, drinking, talking, laughing. There’s a great score more on the dance floor, hopping and jiving along to the band you now knew you’d heard earlier. There weren’t a lot of uniforms present, but the ones that were were RAF.

Bucky guides you to the bar, hand on your back until you're both sat on a pair of stools. Your drinks are quickly ordered and served, so your night continues. You both allow yourselves to talk shop for a moment, so your conversation turns towards what you were working on before your leave. As you get to discussing the more intricate parts of your project, you hear a scoff from behind you.

John quickly looks over your shoulder, spotting the culprit.

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?”

You turn around to find a uniformed man taking a sip of his whiskey, RAF logo plastered on the lapel. He mockingly shakes his head, placing the glass down on the bar.

“No, no problem at all.”

Bucky, ever the confrontationist, persists. “It seems like there’s a problem here.”

You gesture towards the man, silently indicating that he was welcome to speak his mind. 

“It’s not enough that you Yanks come over to our country, destroy our pubs and disrespect our women with your recklessness. But you can’t even keep your own women in check! She should be at home, away from the war, for God’s sake. Taking care of the house and the children. You know, doing feminine duties.”

You had heard all of this before, so it was no skin off your back to hear it again. You roll your eyes and decided to just ignore him. Then the man started to laugh, as if he was in on a private joke.

“I mean, a female mechanic? Between that and your daytime missions, it’s no wonder you’re all dropping like flies.”

You let out an exhale, letting the air stream out through your nose. In your periphery, you see Bucky start to stand— to, no doubt, escalate the situation. You stop him with a hand on his chest. He sits back down, looking between you and the man who had just insulted you. You set your glass down, hopping off the stool and giving a slow clap. 

“I’m so glad to know that some people still live in the Stone Age, where apparently all a woman is good for is cooking and giving birth! Thank you so much for showing us exactly what a lack of education and individual thought looks like! See where we are—over in modern times— women can do whatever the hell they want. That includes fixing your planes and jeeps, operating your radios, driving your trucks, and even training your allies to use machine artillery!”

The RAF soldier realizes what he’s gotten himself into but is backed into a corner of the bar as you pace forward with each scathing word that leaves your mouth.

“Never mind all the bullshit you just spouted about what a woman is fit to do. I think that women can decide for ourselves exactly what we can and cannot do. As for my countrymen, I’m proud to serve alongside them. They go up every day willing to sacrifice themselves so that the rest of us don’t have to. They’re gonna be remembered for their bravery and grit. They’re not cowardly enough to hem and haw and stick up their noses at the thought of a woman doing something other than popping out a kid and ironing their pleats.”

The music has dulled down, but you don’t have the complete attention of the club. That gives you the courage to say your final piece.

“Never you mind. I'm confident that the men I serve with, including the man I have with me tonight, aren’t anything like you. Thank God for that! They're not so…” You take an exaggerated glance towards the man’s crotch, scrunching up your nose. “…small-minded.”

Leaving the gaping man behind, you turn to Bucky and ask if he wants to go get some air. He picks his jaw up off the floor quick enough to nod and lead you back outside into the street.

Hey, hanging around Irene pays off sometimes.

As you step out into the night air, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You feel John step up behind you, voice carefully asking,

“Hey, are you okay? Birdie?”

You continue to stand with your eyes closed. You just needed a moment.

“I’ve come too far to let anyone’s opinion of me, or my career choices, effect me.”

You open your eyes and look over your shoulder at your date. He gives an understanding nod, stepping closer to you. He places his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. You lean back into him, closing your eyes once more, letting him comfort you for the time being.

“Sorry if I ruined the night.”

You can feel a rumble from Bucky’s chest as he chuckles. “Oh, this night’s far from ruined. In fact, that was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

One of your eyes pops open. You crane your neck to peek at him, “Even better than the time you told me about Curt knocking out an RAF officer in one punch?”

“Yep.”

“Winning that bet to get your bicycle?”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Better than your fruit tart from dinner?”

His smile widens, “Okay, let’s not get crazy here. Maybe it was top ten.”

“Top ten?!” You playfully gasp, turning around to face him again. You rest your hands on your hips, “What’s a girl gotta do to rank above a fruit tart around here?”

“Well…” You scoff and shove Bucky at the cheeky smirk he gives you. You’re quickly distracted by the sound of the band inside starting up again. This time with a familiar tune.

“Oh, your song’s on, Johnny!”

Bucky tosses his hat to the side, steps back and gives a very unserious bow. He then sneers with a hyper-nasal impression of the RAF officer you’d just affronted.

“My lady.”

You roll your eyes and give a joking curtsy in return, taking his offered hand. He pulls you into a proper stance for a waltz, which is a complete offset to the jive song that reaches your ears. You both jokingly hop along in the awkward squared formation for a moment, giggling to yourselves. 

He gently pushes on your hip while outstretching his hand, so you take the cue and twirl until you’re both standing at each other’s fingertips. A quick grasp of your hand and a pull twirls you right back into his arms, bumping into his chest. The moment made you burst into laughter, leaning into your dance partner until the song ends. 

The next song is a much slower tune, giving Bucky the chance to pull you in close. You hum along to the band playing, sidling up to the Major’s chest. He places a hand in yours and loops the other around your waist. Your free arm gently drapes under his and over his shoulder, encouraging a lean into his firm body. You both give a slow sway, leading each other back and forth in the quiet echoes of the street. Closer than before.

“You know, I’ve been plucking up the courage to ask you to dinner for a while now.” 

You lay your head on the knuckles of your hand that rest on his shoulder, responding lowly. 

“Really?”

You continue to sway.

“Yeah.”

You’re curious, so you ask, “What made you finally do it?”

He thinks on the answer for a moment, almost chewing on his thoughts. John is not the kind of person to typically contemplate over an answer, so you gift him all the time in the world to respond. You recognize how important that is to him.

“I… I think that it was a lot of little things.” He pulls you in closer. “Your smile, your eyes, the way you talk about the things you love. Birdie, you are so personable with everyone you come into contact with and it’s so magnetic.” 

The flow of compliments shocks you, not expecting this barrage of details to come from the man in front of you. But you dance on anyways.

“But I really think what did me in was yesterday, at the pub. When you looked at me during your song.”

You remember. You know exactly what he was talking about. Whatever he must have felt, you know that you felt it too.

He continues to speak in an intimate tone as you sway along in the street.

“I felt my entire life click into place. It was like everything suddenly made sense. I didn’t have to wonder about what my life was going to be like in five, ten, fifteen years. Because I knew.”

He pulls back to look you in the eye, and the amount of vulnerability in his eyes floors you. 

“I’ll be honest, it scared the shit outta me. It terrified me.”

You understand what he meant. This is all new to him, as it is to you. You pull his forehead to touch yours, noses gently brushing one another, as you offer your best words of comfort in that moment.

“Sometimes, you have to do what scares you the most to find out what’s worth doing.” 

He cups your face, letting his lips ghost against yours. He made his intentions clear, but it was up to you to decide how you move forward.

So, you close your eyes and take the leap.

Your lips press into his, hands stroking the arms that were framing your face. He immediately responds in kind, lips moving in tandem with yours. You melt into him at the reciprocated motion. His arms soon move to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. Your arms reach around his neck, hands resting at the nape of his neck. As he deepens the kiss, you run your hands up, down, and through the dark curls on the back of his head, earning a groan from your partner.

A burst of warmth sparks from within your very being, traveling further and further through your body until you’re consumed by flames. Half of your mind is scrambling to make sense of reality, and the other half is completely consumed by passion.

After a moment, you reluctantly separate from one another, panting to catch your breath. It’s as if the world stopped spinning when you connected, and then started up again when you parted. 

Giving a nervous look to the man you just kissed, you’re elated when he gives you an ear-to-ear grin. He grasps one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. His other hand comes up to cup your face again, thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.

You stay silent for the time being, letting the moment marinate. He brings up your joined hands to kiss the back of your palm. Your heart jumps with joy at the sight.

Bucky gives an exhale before breaking the silence.

“You are most definitely worth it.”

[xreader-obsessions]

WWII!Bucky x Nurse!Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 out of 3

Summary: A story about you and Bucky's growing relationship and how you ended up together. 

Even though Bucky is back in the camp, he has not woken up and you still find yourself missing his voice. Without his jokes, his sincerity, his kindness, the war is getting to you, depressing you. He is the only one to keep you grounded and distracted from the real world. Steve has been by your side all the while though, trying to cheer you up, but it is not the same.

Slowly you realized you are in love with him. Everything about him. You love how he treats you with respect and love, a way no man treats a lady these days. You love that he sees you as a strong individual who can carry herself, not as some trophy like all men have seen you so far. You love how he guards you when men try to hit on you. How he usually shoos them away with a threat. You love how he smiles at you when you laugh and the goofy way he wears his hat. You even loves the way he chastises you when you get in trouble. Most importantly, you love him. 

You grip Bucky's hand once again as you sit next to him. When you aren't working or sleeping, it is always where you can be found.

You rub your thumb over his hand and Steve draws in his book, sitting in a chair beside you.

 "Are you two going steady?" Steve questions suddenly. You feel your cheeks heat up, as you look at Bucky and let out a small laugh. 

"Something like that. We really just flirted I guess." You sigh heavily, you know the moment he wakes up you're going to make sure he knows about your feelings. Or at least soon after. 

"I better not find you two meatballs around a Hydra base ever again. Especially you (y/n). You're not even trained for that." Your eyes light up and Bucky's grip on your hand tightens. You feel so at ease to feel him respond to your touch for once. It's surprising all of the emotions one man can evoke from you. 

You help Bucky sit up on his pillow, and he quickly perks up, he seems back to normal even.

 "How are you feeling?" Steve questions as he closes his sketch book.

 "A little beat up, but I'll be fine. Don't think you two are getting out of my lecture now. Steve why did you let (y/n) go along? She could have gotten killed or--" Knowing Bucky can go on with his lecture forever, Steve quickly cuts him off. 

"Wait. So you never jumped from a plane before?" Steve looks at you with innocent disbelief. You give Bucky a weak smile as he quickly snaps his attention towards you. You cannot help but laugh at his reaction.

"You jumped from a plane!" Bucky yells as he looks like he might pass out from just the though of you being in such a dangerous situation.

"What–what am I going to do with you two?" Bucky questions with a chuckle as he pinches the bridge if his nose and shakes his head. "Both of you are reckless meatballs who search for trouble." Steve laughs proudly at his friend's comment and you rub Bucky's hand. Buck gives you a sweet smile and you feel butterflies form in your stomach. He has the most charming smile you have ever seen, it never gets old to you. 

"Let's get you on your feet soldier." You mock with a smile. Steve is immediately there to help steady his best friend. After a couple steps, Bucky proves that he can manage on his own. He only has a slight wobble to his step. Steve smiles at the two of you, seeming to understand what is going on. 

"I have to go now to get a new assignment. I will see you at lunch." Steve strolls off, but not before secretly giving Bucky a thumbs up with a proud smile.

"So doll, you miss me?" Bucky questions in a smooth tone as he gives you a flirty gaze. You can tell this flirting is much different from the playful ones that usually go on between the two of you. This flirting is genuine as he seems nervous. 

"I did miss you Bucky." You say, stepping closer to him. His cheeks become red and he looks away from you awkwardly. He did not expect you to respond like that. You find his sudden, uncharacteristic shyness attractive. It meant that he cared about you, he wants to impress you. Bucky tries to salvage his charm and puts on his signature smirk again. 

"I think I've earned that kiss." Tension rises as Bucky pulls you even closer to him, he rests his hands on your hips.

"Last time I checked I was the one who saved your life." You tease, while you drape your hands over his shoulder.

"Well. I saved you from having another boring day." You find yourself staring at his lips as his breath becomes uneven. You swallow hard before replying.

 "I guess that does deserve something." You softly place your lips on his and he is careful with his warm kiss. It's full of caring love as he softly moves his soft lips against yours. The kiss soon picks up as you kiss harder and more passionately. You slowly pull away and immediately miss the contact.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being ex-HYDRA and Bucky being your mentor

Bucky Barnes x teen!reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: @marvelflame2010: “Hello, can you write headcanons for Bucky Barnes being a mentor to a teenager (around 15-16) that was ex-HYDRA and is trying to be a hero? read your request rules, so I hope that this is proper. Thank you!”

sometimes it felt like no one knew what you had went through, being abducted and forced to be a weapon for a secret organization whose purpose was to gain more control

but when you met these avengers, it felt like everyone and their momma knew what it was like

bucky barnes, for example

the winter soldier, a WWII soldier deemed missing in action, presumed dead, and happened to be a prisoner of war and beyond

the experimentation and mind control he endured was much like your own, which gave you some comfort

“does it ever feel weird hearing one of your trigger words as a civilian? you know, now that we got ‘reset?’” -you

“not…no, not really? who’s speaking russian around you, y/n?” -bucky

“uh…i mean, no one. i’ve just been watching a lot of russian tv recently” -you

“why would you naturally assume i am also doing that?” -bucky

“why did you assume i didn’t?” -you

ok, thats not the greatest example of bucky mentoring you, but it’s a great example of sarcastic bickering!

honestly, the hardest part was learning how to be gentle again

if you could even say you were ever gentle to begin with being taken so young

it was hard to be so ruthless and unfeeling and have to start feeling

the nights of panic and anxiety were the worst, they made you wish you had that switch in your mind still. you’d whispered the trigger words to yourself sometimes to see if they were still there and if they could “help” you turn off those feelings

but bucky knew. he knew and he learned and he stuck with you

“y/n, those feelings are good” -buck

“no! no, they’re not. why are you saying it’s good to feel bad? i can’t breathe! i can’t think!” -you

“because you have feelings now. it’s the same as when you’re happy. you get to feel happy, it comes with all that other stuff. you have options, opportunities, this is one of them. you just have to take deep breaths” -bucky

combat training was the strangest feeling

“nope. too hard” “pulling your punches now” “your aim there was lethal” “you can’t put that much force into a chokehold” “cutting someone’s finger off isnt cool, y/n. kind of a dick move” “you automatically try to inflict severe injuries, arteries should not be the go-to. disarm your enemy first, if anything”

nothing ever felt right

if you were fighting effectively, you’d risk killing someone, which isn’t what you do anymore

if you held back too much, you’d be injured or killed, and all this would be for nothing

there had to be a sweet spot, but it was never what you were trained for. you were trained to eliminate your targets by any means

but you understood bucky all the same

bucky was there to help you acclimate to the norm too

like, whatever that was

says the guy with the metal arm and fought in world war ii despite the fact it was now like. 2020-something

like a normal ass dinner

“you know, i rarely ever got to go out to eat as a kid” -bucky

“can you ever say something that doesn’t make you sound ancient?” -you

“hey, you wanna pay for your meal tonight or do you want me to?” -bucky

“sorry…” -you

you liked to watch dumb tv shows (the american kind) with him

he’d indulge for a few minutes and then walk off unless he was REALLY interested

actually, he really enjoyed the office

“which avenger would each character be?” -you

“don’t…don’t make me do that” -bucky

“come on! you know, i kind of think phyllis and bruce are alike. like, theyre soft until they get mad and then all bets are off” -you

“that is…dumb” -bucky

sam really loved that bucky was there for you

but he saw that bucky was kind of doing it to distract himself too

“you know, me and steve found bucky just minding his business a while back. all he wanted then was to be alone, mind his business. this? this was what he needed” -sam

“what? a teenage hydra defector?” -you

“i mean, if youre gonna put it that way” -sam

“no, i get what youre saying” -you

steve actually didn’t come up too much, you know?

you thought bucky was trying to keep himself in the present as much as he could

which was what you were trying to learn from him in the end. how to move forward

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 // @deanzboyfriend //

[winterarmyy]

Until Then

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: A mission back in time brought Y/N to an unexpected encounter with the man she fell in love with.

Words: 2.3k++

Pairing: 40s!bucky / avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: melancholy-ish plot line with fluffy ending

Inspiration: "You still would've turn my head, even if we'd met on a crowded street in 1944 and you were heading off to fight in the war" – Timeless (From the Vault) by Taylor Swift

Read my other works here: Masterlist

It was supposed to be a quick in and out mission. Y/N and Tony were sent back in time to 1944; one day before Captain America and the Howling Commandos deployed to their next mission at the Austrian Alps, in Europe.

The duo were supposed to retrieve some lost files regarding Hydra's hidden bunks and labs back in the days. After the fight with Thanos, there were rumours of the re-creation of Project Winter Soldier lead by an organization that once associated with Hydra. So, they need all the information they could get their hands on; including the ones that are lost decades ago.

Unfortunately for them SHIELD used to be shitty at storing physical files back in the days. To be fair they still do, especially now that technology had advanced. Every single information were at the tip of their fingers; from typical criminal records to the name of every single doctor and nurses who were present when the person was born.

They literally have everything. And nothing at the same time.

And honestly, the mission was quick as they predicted. Tony managed to scanned the needed files and some others that he thought would be important. He's extra like that too, which was a plus.

However quick the mission supposed to be, they barely make it though, especially when the guards were suspicious of Tony's apparently "hippie" beard. It was such a shame. So much for dressing up in 40's style. They kind of nailed the outfit and aesthetics, according to Steve anyway.

However, thankfully by the time they got out of the facility they managed fit right in with crowd. The wave of people lead the duo along its current, more and more people joined in to the point that they weren't able to find any quiet place to activate their time device.

"I thought we're still in WWII? Why is there fucking a parade in the middle of the day?" Tony being unapologetically sarcastic as always.

Y/N looked around as she observed, there was couple of people animatedly, albeit, excitedly exclaimed to the streak of success of Captain America and the Howling Commandos in the war.

A little to the right of them, were a group of children who were semi-cosplaying as Captain America and his dream team, passionately play-fighting with the enemies as if they were in a theater performance.

"I guess they're celebrating small wins. Steve and his team did have several successful raids since the battle at Azzano." It was in fact true; what Y/N speculated was exactly the very reason of the current occasion.

Tony simply shrugged as he stretched his neck higher to hopefully find the end the crowd, "Sure, just keep your eyes open for a place to time jump. I don't want to be stuck in the middle of another war." Y/N nodded as she looked around the sides, wondering if there's an empty alleyway that they could use.

The more sketchy looking it was, the better.

The crowd was chaotic with different mix of conversations and cheers; voices intertwining with one another, each sentences criss and crosses into indecipherable storyline. But even then, Y/N could recognized that breathy, slightly giggly laughter anywhere.

Especially when he brushed right by her.

Y/N was well aware of how madly in love she was with Bucky even with the coy cat-and-mouse game they were playing for months. She knew exactly the hold he had on her soul that at some point, she was conviced that he still would've turn her head in any lifetime.

But that idea was only supposed to be one of the secrets in her mind; the thoughts of a hopeless romantic that she was. Certainly, she didn't dreamt of the vision for it come true. But there she was, frozen on her spot when the time stood still on the crowded street in 1944; fortuitously crossing path with man she fell in love with.

There weren't any suitable explanation for this other than it was fate. In that short milliseconds, Y/N saw the resemblance of the sight to a memory of hers in the crowded room a few short years ago; his left arm slung around Steve's neck, letting his weight leaned on his super soldier friend as he let out a hearty laughter.

There were only slight difference from what she saw before and what she currently seeing; Bucky wore an all black suit at that party, now he's wearing his military uniform in a parade. Bucky was dead drunk on Asguardian mead that night, now he's as sober as a soldier deprived of liquor. Bucky's left hand was adorned with high-tech vibranium metal, now that very hand was still made of flesh and blood, still alive.

During that brief moment of revelation, she truly believed that they were supposed to find this.

Whatever this is supposed to be; Fate? Love? Both? She was not sure either.

She was so stuck on holding her gaze on his back as the young soldier walked a few steps away from her that she didn't notice how the people in the surge glared at her unmoving state or how she had been astray from Tony.

Well, at least it only lasted until someone bumped into her and she staggered backwards, inevitably fell on the ground.

Y/N groaned but quickly patted her pockets to find her time device was still there. I mean, she can never be sure if it was just an accident that she fell or someone intended to distract her while pick-pocketing her belongings.

Though other people would probably already stood on  their feet but Y/N was still on the dusty road, as she was busy recollecting her mental state rather than her physical.

That was when a calloused hand reached out to her, offering a kind help.

She didn't think twice to take his hand, let alone looking up at his face when she gripped it tight enough to make a solid foundation to push herself against the gravity, "Oh dear me! Thank you so much, sir. I really..." She lost her momentum when she met the pale blue of his eyes, "...appreciate it." She ended the sentence breathlessly.

It's Bucky. Her brain tried to let her process the thought. It was not her Bucky but still... it's Bucky. Her eyes then fell to where their skin touched. Warm and gentle. His left hand felt the exact same as his right. It made her to cave in the urge to hold it a little longer, to savour the memory of what it could've been; not that she weren't fond of his vibranium arm but curiosity can be such a fickle thing.

Bucky smiled, "Glad to help, my lady." And oh dear does he smiled effortlessly, freely; as if he knew he deserved to feel joy in his life.

Even if she didn't want to, she had to let go of his hand after a few seconds too long of holding it when she was already up and ready to go. She returned his smile though her heart was barely tough enough to stop the spreading of its cracks, "Really, I can't thank you enough."

In reality, it was probably unnecessary to thank him that much for helping her to get back on her feet, but Y/N wasn't really thanking him just for that.

Unbeknownst to him, she was thanking him for not holding back a smile, for not overthinking about the things he might have done to draw a conclusion that he was undeserving have the luxury to smile, for unapologetically just living the life he supposed to have.

She thanked him for it.

Bucky chuckled amusingly as he slightly titled his head to the side. A charming pull on the corner of his lips revealed a smile that could swoon anyone on sight, especially her.

"Well, we're having a little party tonight before deploying to Europe tomorrow. So, maybe you can thank me by letting me bring you to the dance? How about that, doll?" She almost forgot that Steve was there next to him, until Bucky references the word "we".

And especially when his words might just pulled Y/N's heartstrings in ways that she could never thought someone could do. It was awfully slow, almost too delicate of a pull, but each inches of it pained her deeply.

If it was up to her, she would've said yes a million times over but she knew she can't. And the voice in her earpiece reminded her of it, "Y/N, we gotta go." Tony urged as he watched her from the corner of the street.

Y/N tried her best not let her facial expression flatter, "Unfortunately, I can't. I'm going back to my hometown today." It wasn't exactly a lie when she made that excuse.

"Ohh, I see. You're not from here, huh?" Bucky was very honest as his reaction clearly showed his disappointment. Though not at her, just at the situation.

Her brows briefly crunch into an apologizing plead before she boldly grabbed him by the collar of his uniform, slightly pulled him down to her level, while the other hand cupped one side of his face.

She tiptoed herself upwards as she pressed a firm yet sweet kiss on the smooth skin of his cheek and whispered against it, "But, I hope this would do."

Lost for words, heck, Bucky was lost for thoughts. What was left was his own heart thumping hard and loud that he bet Steve can hear it from where he was standing. His cheeks became warmer by the second and the redness spreads even to the tip of his ears.

Of course he had his cheek kissed before, but not like this. None of them felt like this. They were always too fast, too hasty.

Hers was different. It lingered a little longer, gently leaving her imprint on him. He can feel her grip on his collar, the stroke of her thumb on his cheek and of course the soft pressure of her lips on the other side of his face. He could everything so particularly.

Bucky was rendered speechless even after she pulled her lips away; it was too soon for his comfort. Eyes wide open, his lips slightly parted as he let himself lost in the pleasant surprise.

He thought she would parted herself and ran away feeling embarrassed, but she did the very opposite. Y/N lead his forehead to lean on hers, tip of their nose grazed, and her lips hovered above his.

So close, yet refused to merge with one another.

Y/N whispered quietly, as if she was talking to herself, "You'll be fine, James. You'll find home in the future. I promise."

Her voice trembled as Bucky just noticed how wet her eyes were becoming. With that amount of tears in them, he wondered if her sight were all blurry now.

Y/N took in a shaky breath before continuing, "You just need to survive the winter and trust me at the end of that season, you'll reach the sun again." Her thumbs softly traces his cheeks as she spoke.

Bucky didn't quite understand what she was saying but if he loosely translate it, it would mean that 'she believed that he'll be back soon after the war'. But then again, he felt like there were some major things that was missing from the context that he came up with.

Y/N's earpiece send another transmission of Tony's voice, "Okay, seriously. Come on, Juliette. Your other Romeo is waiting for you." She couldn't help but to smile as she closed her eyes, letting the excess tears fall down to her cheeks.

She didn't want to say goodbye, as she knew that this was not where their story ends, at least not his; that's for sure. So, she simply smiled up at him with a reassuring look in her eyes before stepping back. She then, briefly turned her attention to the dumbfounded Steve, gracing him with a similar smile before walking away.

It was just a few steps away when her hand was caught in between someone's, "Hey!" Y/N looked over her shoulder to see Bucky; wide eye, blinking in disbelief and blushing red, all at the same time, "WiIl... Will I see you again?" He asked, though hesitant; wondering if he was being rude.

Compared to what she had done to him, he was just being too polite.

Y/N chuckled dearly, "Of course." Then she replied confidently, "I owe you a dance after all." Her lips parted into a cheeky grin.

Bucky let out a sharp relieved sigh as his lips mimic hers, "I'll look forward to it, doll." He slightly bowed as his hand pulled hers closer to his lips, "Until then." He placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand as his gaze remained on hers.

Apparently, it was Y/N's turn to blush to his antics. She stepped back shyly as her cheeks brightens before scurring away. Maybe, Bucky was right with his prediction prior. She did ran away feeling embarrassed after all.

She jogged towards the next corner of the street, meeting up with Tony. The older might have eyeing her in a teasing manner, but his smirk was the biggest giveaway. Y/N simply rolled her eyes, even if her lips maintained its shape from the aftermath of her encounter with Bucky.

As they entered deeper into the alleyway, Tony spoke, "I gotta admit, young terminator was a hottie. Not hotter than me, of course." he claimed.

Y/N frowned, letting out a scoff, "What do you mean "was"? He still is." Call it bias, but at least she was telling the truth.

Tony shrugged, "Meh. Would argue to differ. But, whatever that floats your boat, I guess?" Tony sassed as they clicked on the time device at the same time, revealing a swirlling portal, in front of them.

Y/N quirked her brow, her hands on her hips, "You're just jealous that he aged like a fine fucking wine and you don't." She purposely challenged his ego.

Tony dramatically rolled his eyes, "Please. He wishes." He walked into portal with an attitude, making Y/N laughed at his childish acts.

She looked back at the alleyway one last time and reminisce the last moments of a past that she never belong in. As she walked into the portal, she thought that maybe, it's time to pay her debt to Bucky.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: The start of bucky drabbles because why not. This is considered a drabble for me because i feel like there's lack of story building. But, you tell me. And did you enjoy it?

[munsonshire]

Things that Bucky does (in a relationship)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (gender neutral) Masterlist Bucky Masterlist

Will teach you how to throw knives (Sam has been caught in the crossfire too many times for his own good, and Bucky always makes some sarcastic comment because of it)

Sends you bouquets of your favorite flowers weekly (yes, he doesn't care of you're a man, men deserve flowers too) (we love a gentleman)

Will open doors for you all the time

Will give you his dog tags from WWII

Will always be touching you in some way or another, hand on your waist, holding your hand for example

Messages a lot when he is on a mission but he is an old man so he sends them word by word because he doesn't know how to send a whole sentence

Will ask you to explain technology to him (he's from the 40s, the poor man is outdated)

Will wear your hairbands (if you use them on his wrists) if not, maybe one of your rings

Tags: @lex-is-up-all-night-to-get-bucky @samkickikc @yeehawbrothers @nash-dara @chococat-fandoms @beans-and-t0ast @divinefemme @alltoowellread @llokii @mostlymarvelgirl @haileygarciasunshine @dispatchvampire

[ronearoundblindly]

Time and Tines (2/3)

Reasons (see previous or series)

Steve Rogers x Villain!Reader

Summary: With the Winter Soldier on your side, Steve races against time to figure out why...and how to stop you.

Warnings for basically DARKFIC: talk of unspecified terminal illness, medical malpractice, gaslighting, revenge, gun violence, not overly graphic death but still death (not of Reader, Steve, or Bucky), and decidedly too-little editing. MINORS DNI. There's plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this isn't for you! WC 5242 (which is, yeah, way longer than it was supposed to be)

Steve will do anything to avoid a fire fight with the Winter Soldier. There are too many people involved now, and he has to approach this situation delicately from all angles.

Steve just does not understand yet.

After hours waiting with agents in the dark of Doctor Avani’s house, convinced you’ve ordered Bucky to come right over and kill the man with brute force, nothing happened. There was no sign of anyone. Steve has to try something else.

A small army protects Salvatore while he searches your apartment. If the key to activating his friend is here, he needs to find it, destroy that information, and get a handle on why this is happening.

“This can’t be right,” Steve mutters, pushing past Agent Palmer (who drove) for a better look. “It’s too clean.”

Your one-bedroom would pass a white-glove test.

There’s so little…everything. It’s a far cry from the chaos Steve woke to find in the police station. His head throbs at the memory. He forgot what it was like to have his bell good’n’rung.

“Supe says she’s been selling off furniture,” Palmer calls from the doorway, “but he thought it was replaced. Boxes kept coming.”

Steve inventories a mattress with no frame, half a dozen hanging garments, no shoes. What were you buying? Where did it all go?

The desktop is bare. You’ve taken any laptop with you, it seems. That’s a small comfort. You clearly planned contingencies for your attack andor escape; it’s fitting you had the foresight to hide your research on the Winter Soldier.

Steve is still scared, however, because he sat with Bucky many times, listening to horrible tales of being trapped in his own mind, powerless, isolated in the midst of everyone, unable to control thoughts much less actions.

This one’s gonna take a few more beers for the friends to contend with, but with any luck and quick work, they’ll get through without bloodshed. He and Bucky will decompress somewhere peaceful. It’ll be okay.

He hopes.

Steve scans the lone bookshelf. The most curious edition is a history book about WWII, a few flagged pages open to reveal passages about Bucky’s service record, an underline beneath the location where the sergeant fell from the train, and a mail receipt for an address on Forsythe Avenue keeping your page. That’s all.

It’s not even a unique read. The book isn’t any more specific than an average school text. No other notes are made in the margins, so Steve turns the book upside-down and shakes, hoping for something to fall out. He rips the other books from the shelf and shuffles their pages until a picture comes loose—a polaroid of three women.

You’re on the right, fuller faced but it’s you. On the back is scrawled “the girls” with hearts on either side.

The book is handwritten, no label on the cover or spine, only an embossed mandala design. Steve’s stomach drops, but he opens to the front flap.

Property of Faith Williams

He swallows roughly and closes it, unable to step over that line of privacy. At the moment, he needs evidence of where you could have taken Bucky, and slow-reading someone else’s diary won’t give him that.

Forsythe Avenue might, but that’s just one tiny piece of the puzzle. 

Steve checks a different unlabeled book, but it, too, doesn’t have your name inside, just a ‘Z’ fancifully drawn amidst doodles.

Damnit. This is no help.

“Palmer, you finding anything?”

“No, Cap. Bills all paid. Nothing under the mattress. No mention of Barnes on any papers in the drawers. Not even a Cyrillic symbol.”

No trace, just like how you two disappeared from surveillance.

Steve shuts his eyes, head still throbbing from how hard the Soldier landed a blow to knock him out.

The agent wanders through the tiny kitchen. “Fridge is empty. Doesn’t look like she intended to come back here…if…actually, it looks like she barely ate. No condiments, no spices, nothing.”

“How long has she rented here?”

“Over two years.”

Shit. This is a dead end.

“Keep looking,” Steve orders, but he takes the two journals and heads for the car, pulling up your thin file again. You don’t hold any clearances or a government footprint. You were let go of from your last job with a severance package. Nothing overly generous. No medical leave mentioned. Benefits, including health insurance, would be intact. Based on your appearance earlier versus you in the photo, Steve chews on a few wisps of theories, but it’s not solid proof. Without more, Steve has no leads.

“Friday, any connection to properties on Forsythe?”

He adjusts to get comfortable in the back seat of the SUV alone, firing up a view screen.

There’s a low, sad sound that means the AI found nothing in your records.

"For her or him?"

Womp womp, it comes again.

Steve lets out a tense breath, “Where are we with bank statements?”

“Authorizations just came back,” F.R.I.D.A.Y chirps.

“What about medical records?”

“That one’s a lot harder, Captain Rogers. We have to—“

“Just analyze the financials first,” Steve sighs. His head throbs again, and he knows he needs sleep. There’s no time though. If he could just get answers…

Protections exist, of course, for good reason, but Steve feels the frustration of any detective. He’s trying to find a bad guy, and by 'bad guy,' he means you, not the man you’ve taken, not the man you are certainly going to order to kill for you.

Steve rests his head on the chilly glass and pinches his eyes shut. He’ll take a minute, review the money trail, and then interview the doctor. It seems a miracle that man was able to go home to his wife and sleep, even with security inside the room, down every hall, surrounding the house…Steve wouldn’t do it; he can’t even keep his eyes closed long enough for the dry sting to subside.

How could he be so stupid?

You weren’t staring at him from across the room; you were watching your mark, waiting for an opening. Sadly, it occurs to Steve that if he’d just let you inject Avani, Bucky would be fine, here by his side, and safe.

You are the threat, not his friend, but that’s a hard distinction. If anyone else sees James Barnes—who is the stealth assassin Winter Soldier, as far as they know—they’ll shoot. No questions. Steve has to find him first. He has to get to you first.

Bucky is compromised, but Steve won’t let it come to that. Buck shouldn't do anything he doesn't want to do just because some enemy hijacked his mind and body.

“Feel better?” You twirl in the chair as soon as the motel bathroom door opens, steam billowing out.

Winter’s face is shadowed, pointed to the floor.

“Or…at least, okay? Here—“ you offer the seat next to you at the tiny table “—sit. Eat. Let me—I’ve got bandages for your knuckles.”

“Heals,” he grunts, sitting easily but with stiff posture, “fast.”

You let out a heavy breath, muttering, “makes one of us.”

The soldier reaches out for the file in front of you, but your hand pins it down.

“Uh-uh. Food first, and palm up here, please.” You wait for him to flip open the takeout container then blot antiseptic on the split skin. “Does that hurt?”

He shakes his head, focused on the meal before him.

Several months ago, an article was published about Bucky Barnes’ affinity for this one particular deli in Brooklyn, a third-generation shop. It listed his usual order.

You’ve made sure the bread isn’t soggy. You kept the spicy mustard on the side.

He makes a strange face, looking around for your portion.

“Not hungry,” you assure him, “I’m rarely hungry.” You secure the bandage like boxing wraps and spin the file around.

“Eat your food—” The command is soft, encouraging. “—while I tell you the story of how we ended up here.”

Buried in the file you’ve put in front of the Soldier is several lifetimes of horror. Maybe not everyone agrees with you, maybe not everyone cares, but that bastard Avani has to atone. For the next hour, you explain what’s expected of him, glancing every so often at the fancier hotel entrance across the street from your motel room.

It’s too early; you’d be very impressed if the Captain had followed those bread crumbs yet.

You planned so carefully for every obstacle. You anticipated so many setbacks. Men like Avani go down like great stone pyramids, not houses of cards, because their lives are built with safeties.  For him to fall, a thousand others have to be damaged, and each one of them will put up a fight to remain untarnished. That approach—the truth, and nothing but the truth—has gotten you nowhere. Diaries aren’t enough proof. The placebo effect is not a crime. Two women are worth far less than a functional, marketable drug.

Plus, they’re two dead women. The pyramid is now their tomb. Nothing ever changes.

No.

You alone cannot topple a pyramid. You’re too far gone. You’re just one person. For justice, you have to go straight to the top, to the man himself. One on one.

Well, one on one-plus-one. Your addition is the sharp-shooter who can get you the top, the target, Doctor Avani.

Winter’s mission is very simple, but he’s thorough, asking all the right questions, thinking of all the right options. You knew he would be perfect.

“Now,” you clap at the end of your story, rubbing boney hands together, “a rundown of my meds. Sound good?” You grab a zippered case from the foot of the motel bed. “Nothing complicated, but here—“ nudging out a syringe and one glass vial “—this is the emergency one. Use 10 milliliters of this if I pass out. Got it?”

The Soldier takes an enormous mouthful of his sandwich and nods, eyes flickering back to that single bed.

You smile sadly. “I…rarely sleep. I’m keeping watch for now. You’re safe. You’ll need the rest.”

He chews and adds more mustard before his last bite.

“Okay? Good.” Your smile fades, fatigue and restlessness swirling in your empty gut as you remove another medication. “Next is this one. Every four hours, twent—wait, no, I’m up to thirty CCs now…”

“Sir,” Steve grits out with far less patience than he intended, pinching the bridge of his nose as if it will stop the throbbing inside his head, “you realize I am trying to save your life?”

Dr. Avani purses his lips in annoyance. “And you realize I am required to keep my patients’ confidence, right?”

Yes, Steve thinks, he’s said that several times.

“Are they current or former patients?” Steve tries to clarify.

So far, Salvatore slipped up only once. When Steve showed him the photo from your apartment, the doctor muttered something about ‘Faith’ and ‘Ziva’ knowing each other, looking confused, then immediately shut down.

Steve has to switch tactics. He doesn’t have time for this.

“Ok. We found over a dozen hotel reservations made with your assailant’s credit card, so look at this list—” Steve taps the smart screen to lay out a map with the names highlighted “—and see if anything stands out.”

“What have this crazy woman’s travel plans to do with me?” Avani bites out, rattling the tea his wife hands him.

A tremor. Not unlike how your hands shook at the table last night. Steve wonders if yours was because you are ill or because you were lying to him.

“Darling, your blood pressure…”

Steve sighs sympathetically to Mrs. Avani. “Thank you, ma’am,” he whispers, taking the next cup and saucer and clearing his throat. “Doc, please. I’m just hoping you can narrow this down for me. We still have no motive.”

“Insanity. Jealousy, maybe!”

“Jealous of what? Do you know what she might want?”

No answer, but Avani chews his cheek, eyes wide, while staring northwest on the map of hotels. Steve files that away in his mind.

The doctor returns to sipping his tea. “Do you know what they call people obsessed with finding patterns in chaos?”

His wife drops the plate of biscuits unceremoniously down on the side table between the men’s chairs.

“Salvatore,” she snips with the same frustrated fatigue wrapped around Steve’s neck like an albatross, “behave.”

“No. None of these are familiar,” the doctor grunts.

Steve can’t accuse the man of lying unless he wants to risk an all-out breakdown in communication during this active threat, but he’s running out of options. He needs real information.

Usually Steve would have more respect for a man staying within the parameters of his vocation, but this is a unique and complicated situation. This is Bucky on the line. Steve’s had enough of secrets and red tape.

“Any idea why she’d mail something to Forsyth Avenue? Do you know anyone there?”

“Forsyth Avenue? No, I’ve never been in that area before, as far as I know.” Though Avani wrings his hands together, no indicates that’s a lie.

Wonderful. Steve’s never been this unsuccessful at gathering intel, and Avani’s status as the newly-appointed Avengers’ lead physician makes it tricky to push harder.

So Steve recommends Avani and his wife consider staying in a more secure location before he sets off to personally check the hotels in the northwest quadrant of the map.

He takes Agent Palmer, riding in the SUV while the two diaries sit in his lap, knowing now—as sure as he can be—that ‘Z’ is for Ziva, and she knew you and Faith Williams. Those are ‘the girls’ in the photo.

Without Ziva’s last name, he can’t do a general search, but there is a death certificate on file for Faith.

Three women. One confirmed dead. At least two ‘former’ patients of the doctor. All visibly ill in either the picture or in person. One mourning the loss of person(s) and out to kill the doctor.

The pit in his stomach grows. Something very bad is happening, yet while Steve has anything else to go on, he will not be reading another’s diary.

He can only hope that your medical records are finally available once the hotel searches are complete.

There’s even a possibility he’ll find Bucky at one of these. Maybe he won’t have to concern himself with the rest at all. Maybe he won’t have to think so hard about your motives for activating a Soviet sleeper agent.

Steve does think, however. He thinks hard enough to spiral as each reception desk is questioned, as all security footage is combed, as every building is cleared. He has to make some assumptions to make the pieces fit.

You believe Avani is responsible for your friends’ deaths—both of them, since when Steve interrogated you, you accepted his condolences—and believe their cause of death was whatever treatment Avani administered.

It’s sad, of course, but it happens everyday. Experimental treatments are just that. If you’re concerned about gross negligence, the doctor could easily be reported to the Medical Board. Considering the amount of research, forethought, and planning required, the Winter Soldier is one of the slowest possible solutions to your problem.

But…Bucky was just your contingency plan. You had an opportunity to kill Avani yourself, yet you still set other options in motion. You used a weapon theoretically deadly to only the doctor 

Steve still can’t understand, and it’s driving him nuts.

Finally, after the hotel reservations prove fruitless, Steve sees no other choice. He has to read the diaries.

He combs through the pages, growing nauseous as darker and darker layers of the situation reveal themselves, disturbed by everydetail except updates from the units on Forsyth Avenue or those stationed at the doctor’s house. Nothing is unfolding save the landscape in Steve’s mind.

He asks F.R.I.D.A.Y about the disease Faith and Ziva mention. He asks about the public records of the drug trial Avani lead and its results published just six months ago, after the last entries of the diaries. He notices the treatment was a huge success…for those not in the control group. Finally, he can’t continue.

His head pounds while his stomach churns.

In the early afternoon, Steve lays down to rest his eyes and reevaluate, but he’s met with only a blank  canvas and drifts to sleep instead.

He’s woken by a shrill ring of his phone.

“Yeah, Palmer, what’s—what? What do you mean he’s gone?” Steve jumps up, straps on his shield, and races to his bike. “The hell were you thinking letting him make a house call today? Where did agents—“

Steve’s foot slips right off bike for an instant.

“Avani led the driver to some suburban neighborhood. Forsythia Commons.”

It dawns of him just as the garage door squeals open.

Steve never showed Palmer the receipt. No one else saw the numbers to the address. Steve’s rattled brain finished the label with a street name he knew.

He was wrong.

Including battles in Germany way back in the day, he has rarely driven so recklessly, but Steve is nearly a half-hour behind now. He has to catch up.

Palmer tells him Avani went into the residence alone—for patient confidentiality—and after a while, agents couldn’t get an answer at the door. Upon forced entry, they found the woman who lived there bound to a chair with tape over her mouth and the doctor nowhere in sight.

Steve gets lucky.

On his way to exit the freeway, he notices a hole in the noise barrier wall past a slope of grass. He pulls over and asks Palmer what the backyard of the residence leads to, but Steve can hear the reverb of agent comms before anyone is visible through the brush.

“Friday, I need traffic camera footage from my location from thirty-five minutes ago. Were there any vehicles stopped on the side of the road?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers. A standard maintenance truck with the department’s logo shows up and leaves seven minutes later, based on ten second intervals.”

“The license plate, can you read it?”

“Quality insufficient.”

“The highway department, do they have any registered cars out here today?”

A long pause follows.

“Friday?” Steve barks.

“Negative, Captain. Inspection is slotted for the end of next week, not today.”

“Alright, follow that truck on the cameras. Tell me exactly where they went.”

He doesn’t bother to tell Palmer where he’s going because Steve doesn’t want them to know really. He needs a head start to find Bucky—to make sure it’s Bucky who is found and rescued, not the Soldier who is cornered and subdued.

The trail ends at a dilapidated office park near the river miles outside of the city. With his own, short fingernail, Steve peels away the Highway Department magnet slapped onto the white truck parked by one building.

Nobody else is in sight, and the truck cab is empty.

Across the nearest door is sun-shriveled lettering. “-alv—re Ava—, M.D” marks the third name in a list.

Steve doesn’t hesitate. He can’t. He walks right in, eyes adjusting to a cave-like darkness without electricity.

The voices are faint behind another set of double doors, but he hears them.

“I don’t owe you anything, bitch. I hope you die like they did.”

There’s a sharp slapping noise and someone spits loudly.

“Admit it. Admit what you did and you won’t die today.”

You don’t beg him to talk. You don’t plead with him. You sound weak but sure.

“Rot in hell,” Avani annunciates, and Steve flings himself through the doors, knowing what comes after such a taunt.

You give him every opportunity to come clean. He could save himself, but Avani refuses while the camera records behind you. He calls you names. He calls your friends worthless. He says they were ’whores,’ but you will still send him back to the correct authorities if he tells the truth.

He doesn’t, he won’t, and you’re honestly pleased this is how it ends.

You don’t have a choice really; you must honor Faith and Ziva somehow.

Instead of the truth, Avani curses you, though not much could be worse than your current fate, even with Winter standing a few feet away, his gun drawn.

You have readied the syringe in your unstable hand and lift it to the doctor’s throat when—crash—Captain America bursts in and scans the whole room.

“Don’t do it,” he tries plainly. “You don’t have to kill him.”

You’re impressed. That’s faster than you expected, but Steve is looking at his friend to stop, not you.

“Shoot him, you idiot,” the doctor snarls.

As if Winter thinks the order somehow applied to him, he turns toward an open palm and a raised shield.

“SHOOT HIM!”

Winter doesn’t move the gun away from you and Avani.

Steve steps closer. “Bucky,” he starts slowly, “I’m not going to do that. I’m not here to hurt you. No one has to die.”

You need to buy more time.

“Soldat, show him.”

Only then does Winter lower his pistol and reach into a pocket at his chest, revealing the tuning fork that controls his own mind. Doing this will forfeit your exit strategy, but you’ll accomplish you mission. Winter’s mission is now secondary.

Steve’s eyes flicker from the fork to you.

After a tense breath, you give the command, confident the soldier will obey, locking your focus on Steve.

“Fetch.”

Winter sprints to the other end of the room and explodes through a wall and then a window to the lawn banking the river.

Cap makes a choice, his sad blue eyes full of pity, and it’s then you realize he knows.

He read the diaries. He understands what Avani did.

Steve bolts after the Soldier.

The doctor shrieks for his Avenger to come back, to protect him from his earned fate, but the hollow thuds of a vibranium arm and a vibranium shield colliding hum through the hole in the building.

The sound of fighting continues as you return the syringe to Avani’s neck.

Enough. Enough excuses. Enough lies. Enough time has been wasted on this man already. Enough is enough.

The end is more peaceful than he deserves. It’s quick and not nearly as painful as it should be. There’s no time left for suffering.

Salvatore convulses after collapsing on the stained industrial carpet, foam gently dripping from his mouth, a symptom of his condition when mixed with a common resuscitative cocktail, one you have to take frequently, one that spiked Steve Rogers’ adrenaline and nothing more. It kills Avani. His heart nearly explodes in his chest.

If there was ever a human that medicine should fail…

You only know he’s susceptible because Ziva knew. Heart conditions and caring for them are the sort of thing one knows about a person they love.

Avani promised to marry her, to leave his wife, to be with her after the drug trial succeeded. He promised she’d live, but he told Ziva she was taking the real medicine, ensured she took the placebo, and then gaslit her until the day she died.

Ziva spent the rest of her life loving a man who would make her happy and healthy, but instead, Avani made her life as short as possible.

He was not even that kind to Faith.

In her own words, Faith wrote how dying scared her, how she begged the doctor for the actual medication, how she offered anything to get it. Avani accepted. Faith did whatever that bastard wanted for months, all the while told she was healing.

Relief never came.

Faith was bedridden when a package arrived for her—a diary willed to her by a friend she’d lost touch with once you three weren’t gathering in the same hospital suite for the old treatments. That’s when she put it together, but Ziva had passed two months prior. Faith lasted only four more days, just long enough to bequeath the two journals to you.

The victory doesn’t feel as euphoric as you expected. You thought somehow you’d know that Ziva and Faith were proud and at peace, but you’re just empty and tired.

You stare down at Adani’s body, unfazed, when the tuning fork slams against a dangling metal doorframe and Cap shuffles through the rubble.

He’s scraped and beaten which isn’t what you ever wanted, just a necessary evil to fight evil. He watches as Barnes walks in from the grass.

“It’s me, punk. You can put that thing down.”

Bucky doesn’t wait for Steve, snatching the prongs right from his hands and tucking it back in his jacket.

There’s a moment where they almost hug before Steve remembers the doctor and rushes to the man at your feet.

“Call for help! I'm starting CPR.”

Barnes simply holds your gaze.

More sad blue eyes. It brings you hope that he will complete his mission.

You step away from the others to make for a cleaner shot, nodding that it’s okay, breathing a rough but weak “please” for emphasis.

“Buck?” Steve looks up as Bucky points his gun at you again. “What are you doing? STOP. It’s over!”

“His mission was never to kill Avani,” you hiss, unable to take your eyes off the perfectly-centered muzzle directly in front of you. “He’s here to kill me.”

“The hell—“ Steve climbs to his feet “—why would you shoot her?”

“I’m not going to jail!”

“You know what they’ll do to her, Steve.”

Both men take one step closer.

“There has to be another way.”

“I did this because it’s the only—“

“—can understand doctors who taking advantage and manipulating their patients better than anyone—“

“Put the gun down!”

“Pull the trigger! It'll be—“

“—told me he could do better than me,” Bucky barks. “Doc said, to my face, that he could make a better me. He wanted to make soldiers, Steve. More soldiers. Avani didn’t give a shit about what was right.”

You jump in. “If you found the diaries, you know what he was capable of.”

“That’s not how this works. We don’t condemn a man from—“

This time you step toward Barnes. “Just do it. Shoot me now.”

Steve lunges to take your wrist in his hand, your limb comically thin and delicate beneath all his enhancements.

“She doesn’t deserve to rot while they sweep this under the rug,” Bucky adds, voice low and serious.

“This is for the best.” You look at Steve now, and something heartbreaking swims in those morose pools, something unspeakable.

His head shakes, dirty, sweaty hair falling in his face. “What if there’s another way?”

“I don’t want to be saved, Cap. Let me go.”

You offer one final, soft smile, and Steve moves just as Bucky pulls the trigger.

Steve completes his testimony before the panel opposite him. None of the questions are a surprise.

They’ve painted you as completely insane, demented, psychotic, and he can’t argue. What would he tell them? Yeah, but she had kind eyes, so, you know, remember her fondly? No, he can only remain quiet until he has something pertinent to add which is very little. Bucky had far more to offer, and he already spoke.

When Steve steps out of the counsel chambers, Maria Hill is waiting for him.

“Shame she ordered the Soldier to dispose of her body. Took the coward’s way out.”

“You make her sound like a rabid animal that had to be put down,” Steve grit out. 

“No, you’re right,” Hill admits, “but it was lucky she left the sound thing for—”

“Tuning fork,” he snaps, “which I destroyed. No one should have that. No one should even know about it.”

Buck does his best to calm Steve down with a heavy hand on his shoulder. “S’okay, pal. The interrogation footage has been wiped and unless someone with perfect pitch was walking by observation--”

“You know that’s not reassuring, right?”

The two huge men look at each other.

Steve finally mutters, “what about Avani’s widow?”

“All the blackmail sent to his mistress in Forsythia Commons was removed before Gloria even knew Sal was kidnapped, and I think it’s fair to say that lady is so grateful her name wasn’t dragged through the press that she won’t be bothering the wife. Good thing the doctor put her car and house in her name, or legally, this would get ugly.”

“Yes. We’re very lucky he was such a skilled adulterer,” Steve quips dryly. He regrets handing over the diaries for evidence. They weren’t mentioned once in any of the hearings.

Bucky flashes Steve a warning glare that reads, don’t start.

Hill obliviously flips through the folder in her hands, nodding. “All in all, this report amounts to an incredibly long lead-in of ‘use that PTO, boys!’ You earned it.”

“Understatement of the century…and I would know.” Bucky is a much better liar than Steve.

Thank god, they are fleeing to the middle of nowhere indefinitely.

Hill heads back to her office. “We’ll be here when you get back. Keep in touch.”

“No,” Steve counters. “I don’t think I will.”

Bucky and Steve leave in an old truck the next morning. They can’t seem rushed or impatient to get to their destination.

Casually accumulating supplies, Steve loads their bags in the flat bed with space for all repair materials they are likely to need. The cabin needs some work; the guys need to get their hands dirty and live simply for a while.

The team is happy for Steve; it’s been so long since anyone saw him moving forward in life, and, of course, he and Bucky deserve some peace and quiet.

No one else has any idea how hard-won this vacation is.

The drive takes all day because they can’t be in a hurry.

Steve takes pictures at every scenic outlook. Bucky climbs up onto some rock ledges to take selfies which Steve is not into. This earns him being featured as a blurry grump in the background of all of them, purposefully.

Eventually, the GPS-free truck pulls up to the place, a large A-frame style cabin that should be plenty big for two super soldiers.

Parked on the gravel path, Steve is careful not to ding the other car when he swings open his door. As Bucky heaves two duffels from the trunk, he calls out, “got the meds, too” and heads inside. Steve gathers up the remaining bags and trudges over, smelling something hearty and delicious cooking, listening to the tinkling, copper-coin wind chime hanging somewhere above him.

He doesn’t stop looking at his feet until they hit the top of the porch, spotting two smaller bare feet on the welcome mat.

There you are, holding the door open, layered in warm knits, more tired before but better than expected.

“Hey,” Steve breathes finally.

“Hey,” you say, your mouth twisted to hide an excited smile.

“Yes, hello,” Bucky grumbles from the living room. “Now shut the damn door. I’m hungry.”

Steve steps inside.

[Last Part]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

a/n: Sorry this took so long a fucking year! Tags will be in a reblog.

[preciousbarnes]

By Your Side

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You get badly injured on a mission, and Bucky doesn't handle it well.

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags: Established Bucky x Reader, Agent!Reader, Explosions, Bodily Injury, Near Death Experience, Hospital Setting

It had been as routine as any mission could be. You, Sam, and Bucky were tasked to break into an old WWII bunker which held files containing information about a weapon that was at risk for resurfacing. The government wanted the files back in their hands before they could fall into someone else’s.

You all stood in the musky smelling dark bunker, everything covered in a thick layer of dust, not seeming to have been touched in decades. You were quickly gathering the old paper files into your backpack, when there was a sudden, persistent beeping to your right.

“Forget to turn off your alarm, agent?” Sam joked, making you and Bucky laugh.

You shook your head, before your eyes widened in realization. You all had let your guard down upon entering the bunker. With all the dust, you never imagined it could have all been staged to look untouched. You all made the mistake of being too comfortable. Too self-assured. And you were about to reap the consequences.

“Bomb!” You yelled, right as the beeping became constant.

Then, a bright flash and deafening boom, as your body was thrown back from the blast. You felt a sharp, searing sensation in your abdomen, overwhelming the pain you felt in the base of your skull. You laid there on the cold concrete floor, disoriented, your vision blurred as you tried desperately to regain your bearings.  Looking up you see a dark figure running to your side, a muffled sound of your name being called. Once the figure got closer, you could make out that it was Bucky.

His face, once it was in your vantagepoint, worried you. The usually stoic man on missions with the thousand-yard stare was obviously rattled, his eyes wide, hands ghosting over your form, afraid to touch you, like he was in fear he may hurt you more. Your eyes left his face to follow where he was looking, down at your abdomen, where the burning and constant ache was.

There it was. A metal pipe had pierced you during the explosion, now lodged in your stomach. There was blood pooling around the wound and on the floor under you, unsettlingly warm against the cool concrete. You swallowed dryly, before looking back up to Bucky, who looked utterly lost. That’s when Sam finally came into view. He had some scrapes and already forming bruises, but it was clear that you had taken the worst of the blast, being so close to the bomb.

“We need a medic in here, stat. Does anyone copy?” You heard Sam call through the coms, hearing a quick but dull reply you couldn’t make out respond soon after his order.

“They’re coming as fast as they can. How are you feeling?” Sam asks, kneeling on the other side of you, glancing up to Bucky to gage his condition before returning his focus to you.

“I-I’m cold, and s-so sleepy, Sam” You say hoarsely.

This seems to awaken Bucky, he begins sternly shaking his head, hand coming to firmly grasp yours. He recognized the signs. Cold. Sleepy. Signs of massive blood loss. Possible internal bleeding. Early signs of a fate he didn’t want for you.

“Doll, no, y’gotta stay awake. Stay awake for me, okay?” He says quickly, his metal hand coming up to push the hair out of your face and gently tuck it behind your ear. As he pulls his hand back, he notices his fingertips are coated in blood. Your blood. You had an injury to the back of your skull. His eyes widen at the sight of more of your blood, before he schools his expression back as much as he can, trying to look calm for your benefit, when he feels anything but calm.

“I- I don’t think I can, Buck. I’m so tired,” You tell him softly, before a cough works it's way up your throat, the force of it jarring your body and making you wince in pain.

Tears sprang to Bucky’s eyes as he shook his head once again. He knew what it meant if you went to sleep. He’d seen it play out way too many times on battlefields. You wouldn’t wake back up.

“Please, sweetheart, stay with me.” He pleaded with you, grasping your hand tighter, pulling it up to his lips to kiss gently.

“James,” you began, blinking a few times in effort to stay awake long enough to tell him what you felt compelled to tell him. You weren’t stupid. You knew you were in bad shape, with the likelihood of your survival getting slimmer by each passing moment the medics were taking to get to you.

“I-I love you, James. It’s okay. If I have to go, I’d want it to be like this. D-doing the work I believe in, and getting to be with you. You’ll be okay, Jamie.” You told him, voice shaky.

Tears begin to fall down Bucky’s face as he cries without abandon, shaking his head once again, hair flopping around with the viciousness of the shakes.

“No. You can’t leave me. Not like this. You can't tell me you love me like this. Save it for when you’re better. Not like this.” He begs between sobs.

Sam rises to his feet, calling on the coms that they needed help now, that things were looking grim. Your eyes begin to drift shut on their own accord, unable to keep them open any longer. You begin to fall into what feels like a deep sleep, Bucky’s cries being the last thing you heard, each one breaking your heart.

The first thing you heard was a soft and steady beep, accompanied by the sterile smell that medical facilities always had. You felt the weight of a hand in yours, recognizing the callouses belonging to your boyfriend. You slowly blink your eyes open, taking in the soft lighting of the room in the medical bay of the avenger’s compound. Usually it was you siting in Bucky’s place after Bucky did something reckless on a mission. This was the first time things were the other way around. You gently turn your head, wincing at the stiffness in your neck, making you wonder how long you had been out. There he was.

Bucky looked disheveled. His shoulder length hair was tied back in a messy buns, strains sticking out haphazardly all over the place. He was in sweatpants and a wrinkled t-shirt. His head was resting on the side of your bed, head turned to the side, giving you a view of his dark circles and scruff that had grown out longer than he normally allowed it. He looked how your body felt; a wreck.

You gently brought the hand that wasn’t incased in Bucky’s over to his head, gently and soothingly running your fingertips over his face. At the touch, he slowly opened his eyes, his widening upon seeing that you were awake.

“Baby, my god it's so good seeing those eyes again,” He said, voice gruff from lack of use. He had barely spoken since you had fell asleep back at the sight of the blast. He looked so relieved, like he could finally breathe again. If you looked closer, there were some tears gathered in his eyes.

“Hi Jamie,” you said softly, voice also hoarse from lack of use.

Hearing your voice and the nickname, he smiled softly, grabbing a cup of water from the stand by your hospital bed and holding it so you could get a drink. You took a few gulps, thanking him afterwards.

“How are you feeling, doll? Any pain?” He asked you, hand caressing your cheek as you leaned into his touch.

You took a moment to survey your body. You could feel the presence of a bandage wrap around your midsection, no doubt covering the wound and incision from the emergency surgery you were sure you had to have. You also noticed the presence of other bandaged dispersed along your limbs, due to smaller cuts and scrapes from the blast. While you were sure you were quite a sight, you didn’t feel any pain.

“No pain, but what’s the damage?” You ask.

“Two cracked ribs, a large gash to the back of your head that went down to your skull, so you’ve got 7 staples back there. The pipe that went through you luckily missed your major organs. They had to do some repairs to your intestines, and they had to remove your appendix that was damaged from the pipe. You’ve got a nasty concussion and some cuts and bruises. You’ve been unconscious for 4 days,” He lists off your injuries from memory.

A silence falls between the both of you. You look down at your hands held in Bucky’s, his thumb gently brushing back and forth on the tops of your hands.

“God, baby. You scared the life out of me,” He says, voice breaking at the end.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky. I should’ve been more careful,” You tell him, hating the pain you’ve caused him.

His head jerks up at your apology before he scoffs softly and shakes his head.

“No, doll. I should have been more careful. It's my job to watch your six. I’m so, so, sorry I failed,” He says with a sniffle, trying to hold back tears.

“You didn’t fail. It was made to look untouched, undisturbed for decades. We had no reason to suspect anything. We will be more careful next time, all of us. This was no ones fault,” You tell him sternly, willing him to understand that he is not responsible.

“I thought I was going to lose you, baby. I thought I was losing you without ever telling you I love you,” He whispers.

You smile softly, reaching up to tuck an unrulily strand of hair back behind his ear.

“You can tell me now,” you offer.

“I love you doll. I always have.” He tells you, a reverent tone taking over his voice, overcome with emotions he thought he’d never feel again.

You both lean in and softly kiss. You know the road to full recovery is going to be long, but you would do anything with your Bucky by your side.

[avelera]

I am never going to be over what the movies did with Steve and Tony's dynamic, because- listen, listen. The reason Civil War was (supposed to, it was kind of a hot mess) hit so hard in the comics was that these two were *best friends* and had been for decades of comic time. In the movies, they never are friends, so Civil War is just two colleagues who never really got on, and not the devastating tearing apart of a long-established friendship group.

Dude I literally burst out into like... outraged, furious laughter in the theater when Tony said, "I thought I was your friend?" because, umm, footage not fucking found?

I completely get and respect the comic readers here for whom Steve & Tony and Steve/Tony were, in fact, the best of friends! But the MCU never ever actually showed it.

To cram that line, which felt lifted from the comics, into the MCU was genuinely laughable. How could Tony possibly think he compares to what we've seen of Steve and Bucky's relationship, since childhood even if you don't ship them, as the only person Steve has left from his entire life pre-WWII? How could Tony possibly think he compares except through the lens of a galaxy sized ego and being totally self-involved to the exclusion of all else? How could any work colleague, since that's what they are at best when not outright antagonists to each other in the MCU, think they'd compare to a childhood friend in danger, that Tony is actively putting in danger? Who Tony is blaming for the death of his father despite the fact they've got piles of evidence that Bucky was a mind-controlled prisoner of war being actively tortured at the time?

It's literally staggering, it beggars belief that this line was uttered. And wildly enough, it's not even my least favorite line in Civil War. (That one goes to Vision's stupid fucking comment about how strength invites challenge, basically victim-blaming the superheroes for having villains, which only possibly makes any sense if you ignore Thor, the greater galaxy, all of the infinity stones, and basically every other part of the MCU timeline before Steve Rogers got the serum, Christ that line makes me mad.

Oh, and the line about Tony just handwaving signing the accords because their lawyers can fix it later as the most boneheaded line of insane privilege I've ever heard. Kids, never fucking sign something just because you can supposedly fix it later, christ it's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.)

ANYWAY, I have major beef with Civil War's logic. It never should have happened where it did in the MCU. Cap 3 should have been dedicated to its original plot before they found out RDJ was staying on in the MCU and they had the pieces to make Civil War (the original was the hunt for Bucky and an examination of Captain America's legacy through the lens of Bucky killing off the pretenders the US government set up to be him over the years, and I still weep that we never got it) But I do honestly, deeply, have sympathy for comic fans and why they're mad about the Steve and Tony friendship never actually appearing on screen in any meaningful way.

Civil War shouldn't have happened then. Civil War is a plot you run now, when you've got the rights to the X-Men and too many damn characters running amok. Civil War would be perfect now for pairing down some of the ballooning MCU nonsense. The cast was literally not big enough circa Cap 3 to make Civil War. And I'm eternally bitter that they pivoted away from the smaller-scale Cap-centric movie we should have had and instead made another Avengers movie in its name.

[bensonoliviasstuff]

“Turning Page”

Chapter One! “ ‘I'll never leave’, never mind”

Masterlist for “Turning Page”

Bucky Barnes x fem! Reader

Summary: Once Bucky regained consciousness and was no longer the Winter Soldier, all he missed from the 40s was his wife. But maybe she's closer than he thought.

Warnings: English is NOT my first language, so I'm sorry if there are too many errors. Futhermore i don't think there are many warnings, a little bit of angst, memory loss, betrayal, trauma, Insecurities and other things that you will discover throughout the story. And the best part: Thanos doesn't exist here

The infirmary doors were opened in an angry shove, making a loud noise as the metal of the door met the wall. A nervous Bucky walked past with hurried steps.

“Bucky, Wait!” Steve shouted trying to keep up with his friend's steps. “No one can enter the room yet, they are carrying out tests”

“I need to see, Steve!” He shouted in a broken voice as he continued his way through the corridors of the compound's medical wing. “I need to see with my own eyes...”

The sentence died down when he stopped walking, facing the glass window of the hospital room.

It was you.

Bucky had the image of you memorized perfectly in his head, he could describe everything that had changed since 1940 with just one look, your hair was a few inches longer, there were a few small scars on your face. But it was still you.

He felt like his heart had stopped beating for a few moments.

He ran a metal hand over his face, holding back the sob that threatened to escape his throat. “It’s her Steve” Bucky placed a hand on the glass, almost as if he could feel it.

“It's her, Bucky” Steve said cautiously “But... We don't know what happened to her this whole time, we'll only know how she is when she wakes up.”

That's when realization hit Bucky, his fist closed against the glass, about to punch the wall.

“I’m going to kill those bastards” Bucky said, unable to calm the anger he felt towards those men, what if you went through everything he went through? All the torture he had to endure for years and years? The thought of you suffering like he did made Bucky's heart sink towards his stomach.

“Natasha is interrogating the man who told us she was there” Steve said “She’s waiting for us.”

“I was waiting for you” your voice echoed through the room before Bucky took you by the waist and gave you a kiss full of love. “Sergeant Barnes now then?”

You pulled away to take a good look at your husband, he was wearing the brown suit of a WWII soldier.

“For you it’s always ‘my love’, doll” Bucky said taking you in his arms, this was something you loved about your relationship, even after so long together you still acted like teenagers who had just started a fiery passion.

But Bucky didn’t fail to notice when you lowered your head to hide your teary eyes.

“Hey, doll, what’s wrong?” He already knew the answer, he knew it and it left him almost inconsolable before going to sleep.

“I’m afraid Bucky, what if you don’t come back?” Her voice became lower and lower as the doubt became more terrifying in her mind.

“I will come back doll, I promise you, not in a million years i'm leaving you alone” He placed a hand on your neck, forcing you to look at him.

“You can’t promise that” You said unsurely. “You don’t know if you’re really going to come back. ”

“Then you can marry Steve” He tried to joke to lighten up, and you couldn’t help but let out a tearful laugh, punching him in the shoulder.

“This isn't funny, you know?” You said wiping away your tears. “I know, I know” he apologized pulling you into a tight hug. “I will never leave you doll, that's the only thing I'll keep in mind while I fight: I can't leave my princess behind.”

“How did you know Y/N Barnes was alive?” Natasha asked the man chained in front of her, Bucky and Steve were on the other side of the mirrored glass.

“She was never dead, Hydra has been with her since Steve Rogers was presumed dead” Steve looked down, he still blamed himself for that, for leaving you alone even after you losing your husband.

“What did Hydra wanted with her?” Natasha asked coldly, leaning over the table. “Why did they taked her?”

“Even after we erased the Winter Soldier's memory, he always ended up remembering her at some point, we wanted to create an advantage in this regard, if he decided he was no longer on our side, we would threaten to kill her”

Bucky kicked the nearest chair, cowering in rage. He was ready to go into that room and kill that man in the most violent way ever recorded. “And why didn’t they do that when he disappeared?”

“He was already gone, we couldn't find him, but she didn't lose her usefulness, during the time she was at the base, she made a lot of noise after finding out that James Barnes was alive, sometimes she could spend an entire day screaming for her husband, it was irritating, so we decided to erase her memory, it became much easier to experiment on her after that.” The man was dismissive, he had nothing left to lose, he was already sentenced to prison, now he just wanted to see Sergeant Barnes suffer.

“Still, she always remembered him eventually, we also used it to test the soldier's memory, every time after we erased his memory, we took him to her, only to see he didn't recognize her, she would cry for days.”

At this point, Bucky was curled up in the corner of the wall, holding his head as the tears fell. You called out to him, you spent days screaming for him, you were in the same place as him all the time and he was never even able to recognize you.

It was tearing him apart, it was breaking everything inside him. He was about to leave, unable to listen any longer, when Natasha's question reached his ears.

“Experiments? So she has the super soldier serum?” Bucky turned around, waiting for the answer “No, but we trained her, she was very good at carrying out the missions she was sent, Y/N Barnes killed a lot of people”

That was the final straw for Bucky, they made his precious sweet girl spill blood.

He walked into the room, ignoring Steve's comments about calming down. He grabbed the man by the collar of his clothes and pushed him violently against the wall, starting to throw punches with his metal arm, he could spend hours beating and it still wouldn't be enough, but Steve ripped him off before the man's face was deformed.

“Never put her name in your mouth again! Your bastard! I'll kill you!" Bucky screamed trying to free himself from Steve, Natasha got in front of Bucky and ordered Steve to get him out of there.

Steve left dragging a nervous Bucky. “Look, I have the same desire as you, I wanted to go in there and finish him off, but that’s not how you solve things Bucky!”

Bucky sat on the chair he had kicked minutes ago, putting his head in his hands, everything in him was shaking, a mixture of hatred, anguish and guilt. “They put her through hell, Steve!” He stood up abruptly, putting his hand over his mouth. “All this because I left her alone, I forgot about her! I promised I would always be there for her and I just forgot about her!”

Steve looked at his friend with a very strong tightness in his chest, this whole situation hurt him in a way he couldn't even explain, imagine how much it was hurting Bucky? How much did it hurt you, going through all of this alone?

He still remembered when he had to break the news to you.

“Steve!” You said happily after opening the door to the apartment you and Bucky shared. “Oh, I'm so happy to see you! I still haven't gotten used to the fact that you're taller than me now” You walked forward giving Steve a hug, noticing that his face wasn't looking good but you wanted to ignore all the crazy theories in your head. “Where is my husband? Why didn't he come with you? I already said you can't steal it from me” You joked, despairing when Steve didn't laugh.

“I'm so sorry Y/n... Bucky...” Steve started to speak but you interrupted before he could finish his line of reasoning. "No! Don’t say that Steve, it’s not true, it can’t be true, don't you dare to lie to me!” You said taking steps back, with your hand on your stomach, feeling like you were going to throw up.

“He promised... He told me he would come back!” You started to cry as Steve walked over pulling you into a hug.

Your legs no longer had the strength to keep you standing when you started crying and sobbing in Steve's arms. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry” Steve kept repeating, even though his heart was breaking more and more.

“He promised me Steve! He has to come back” You repeated between sobs, Steve didn’t know what to say when your pain seemed to be consuming you.

That day, he laid you in bed, made you some tea and sat next to you until you Say a sentence that ended that super soldier.

“The worst lie I’ve ever heard: ‘I’ll never leave.’” You sighed with heavy eyes “Never mind”

After saying that you fell asleep, Steve couldn't put into words how painful it was to see your red and swollen face sleeping.

“I promise to take care of you Y/n, I won’t leave you alone, for Bucky”

Even so many years later Steve's heart hurts knowing that if he hadn't left, maybe you wouldn't have been alone, and now he feels even more guilty knowing that if he had been around, Hydra wouldn't have taken you.

He felt like it was his fault, even if it wasn't.

Steve's thoughts were interrupted by the door opening.

“Sergeant, Captain” Tony appeared in the room, a curious and relieved look on his face “She woke up”

[440mxs-wife]

Songbird

Pairing: Bucky x F!Reader. Other Characters: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Tony Stark, Thor Odinson. Mentioned: Loki Laufeyson, Bruce Banner.

Word Count: 10,170 (including lyrics)

Warnings: Friends to lovers, mutual pining, a bit of angst, misunderstanding, self-doubt. Fluffy ending (of course).

Summary: For the past 8 months, Reader has been working as the manager for the Avengers. During that time, she and Bucky develop feelings for one another, though neither one knows about it. One day after his workout, Bucky hears someone singing through the vents in the women's locker room, but he doesn't know who it is. He comes close a couple of times to finding it out, but just barely misses her. Tony somehow convinces Bucky to let him throw a fancy birthday party with a 1940s theme, complete with entertainment from that era. When Bucky finds out that the entertainer is his mystery girl, how will he react?

A/N: Happy Belated Birthday, James Buchanan Barnes. This one's for you.

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Hold me close and hold me fast The magic spell you cast This is "La vie en rose"

When you kiss me, heaven sighs And though I close my eyes I see "La vie en rose"

Bucky was gathering his clothes from his locker after his shower, but paused when he thought he heard....singing? He stopped for a moment to see if he could figure out where it was coming from and whose voice it was. He hadn't heard singing like that since the traveling USO shows during WWII. Hearing his type of music being sung by someone so talented brought a smile to his face and had him momentarily rooted to the spot.

With his advanced auditory capabilities, he determined that the voice originated in the women's side of the gym. Thus far, though, its identity eluded him. He quickly shoved everything into his locker, slammed the door shut, and bolted out the door towards the sound. On his way over, he ran into Natasha, who stopped him at the entrance.

"Whoa, Barnes, what do you think you're doing? You can't go in there, this is the women's locker room. Your side is over there," she pointed out, her slender fingers gesturing to the doorway behind him.

"I know, but just listen!" he exclaimed. They both stood still as the last notes of "La Vie en Rose" faded away. Bucky's shoulders slumped in defeat, as he had thoroughly enjoyed the impromptu concert. He strained his enhanced ears to hear if a new song had started, then frowned when he didn't hear anything. He curled his hands around Natasha's biceps. "Will you please go in there and, I don't know, ask around? See if anyone can tell you who was singing? I gotta know, Nat," he begged.

Natasha studied him for a moment or two, then smirked as she eventually gave in to his pleading face. "Oh all right, Barnes, keep your shirt on. Please. I'll go in there and see what I can find out," she agreed. But before she could check out the area, you walked out with a towel draped around your neck and your bag over your shoulder.

"Hey, Natasha! Sorry I didn't see you," you remarked as your eyes slid over to the handsome super soldier to her right. "Oh! Hello, Bucky," you murmured with a shy smile.

The corners of Bucky's mouth slowly inched upwards until it was stretched into a wide grin, complete with a display of his perfect pearly teeth. "Hiya, doll," he replied softly.

Natasha rolled her eyes at the two of you. "When you were in there just now, did you hear anyone singing?" she asked.

"Singing?" you parroted. "I heard music of some kind, but I thought someone had their playlist on speaker or something."

Natasha narrowed her eyes as she regarded you with a bit of suspicion. "No, that wasn't a recording, we heard somebody's actual voice. Bucky asked me to go in and take a look around, see if I can figure out who it is, but--"

"No!" you exclaimed, holding up your hands to stop her. "I mean, that's okay, I'll go in and see if I can find out who it is. Be back in a flash!" Before either of them could protest, you had already dropped your bag and ran back into the locker area.

Once inside, you chanced a quick look over your shoulder to see if you were being followed. You paused at the sink and caught your reflection in the mirror. That was a close one, you thought. Gonna have to be more careful next time. 

After glancing at the mirror one last time and taking a deep breath, you counted to ten and walked back to where Natasha and Bucky were standing. "There were a couple of people inside, but nobody knew anything about any singing. Welp, I'm going to head to my room but I'll see you at dinner!" You picked up your bag and waved as you walked away from Nat and Bucky.

Natasha waited until you were out of earshot to ask, "Did that seem weird to you? Like she was hiding something?"

Bucky continued to stare after you with a dream-like smile on his face. Natasha elbowed him in the side, breaking his trance. "Oof! What did you say?" he grumbled.

"I said, did she seem weird to you, like she was hiding something from us," she repeated.

"'Weird'? Nah, I wouldn't say that, I mean we all have our own little quirks, don't we? Besides, hers are kinda cute," he chuckled.

Natasha looked Bucky up and down before throwing up her hands in exasperation and marching into the gym. She turned around just in time to see Bucky look longingly at the women's locker room entrance, then retreat into the men's side to grab his bag.

***

For the past eight months, you have been the unofficial "manager" for the Avengers. If someone were to write down a list of all of your duties, it would likely span multiple pages. One of your favorite responsibilities involved grocery shopping and general food preparation. That included, but was not limited to, snacks. That meant Thor got his Pop-Tarts, Loki got his tea, and Tony got his energy drinks. You could usually find whatever anyone asked for, no matter how exotic.

Except that Bucky rarely, if ever, asked you to get him anything special. He was a little like you in that way, meaning you didn't want to be a bother. To you, it seemed silly to have someone traipsing all over the city to find that one special thing you really wanted. Too often, you convinced yourself you could live without it. But that didn't stop you from picking up a few boxes of Junior Mints, or the occasional jar of bread-and-butter pickles for Bucky. 

As you'd gotten to know Bucky, you'd developed a crush on the super soldier. He was definitely a good-looking man, especially when he smiled. Your heart fluttered every time you heard him laugh, which wasn't often, thus you would do anything to hear it on repeat. Despite what had been done to him in his past, he didn't let that erase his kindness, his sense of duty, or his willingness to protect those he cared about.

Sometimes he'd wander into your office to see how your day was going, bring you some coffee, or to ask you out to lunch. You always sat next to each other at dinner or on movie nights. At times you could swear there were signs that he considered you as more than a friend. Those thoughts were quickly dismissed, because you were certain that current only ran in one direction. As gorgeous and kindhearted as he was, he had loads of women and even some men falling all over themselves for him. What kind of chance would ordinary you have with someone like him?

Today, you made an extra stop at the Farmers' Market being held in Union Square, where there was something for everyone. You picked up honey for Loki's tea, lots of hearty fruits and vegetables, assorted baked goods, and various cuts of meat from the butcher. To brighten up the Tower, you picked out some fresh-cut bouquets of flowers to put in vases. A wine vendor even persuaded you to add a few bottles of his best wines to your wheeled cart.

Out of all your purchases, the one you looked forward to unpacking the most was a bag of plums. The seller assured you that hers were the best, no blemishes or soft spots to be found. She gave you a few samples and explained which varieties should be used for baking and which ones were for enjoying right away. As you were handing over your cash, she tucked a few recipe cards into your bag with a wink. You thanked her with a smile before moving to the next stall with a spring in your step, eager to show Bucky what you had found for him.

***

Two hours later, you returned to the Tower and wheeled your cart into the building. As the door was closing, you heard shouting for you to hold the door. Quickly you pressed the button and you tried to maneuver your cart closer to your side to make room for the new passengers. It turned out to be Steve, Bucky, and Sam, who happened to be returning from a run.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," you greeted them. Bucky stepped on first, but with the cart, it looked like it would be a tight fit if Steve and Sam also tried to get on. "Oh, I'm so sorry, guys, elevator's kinda full with my cart in here," you remarked.

Steve and Sam gave each other a knowing look before grinning at Bucky, who in turn was trying to give them a murderous glare. "That's okay, Cap and I will catch the next one," Sam smirked. He reached in and pushed the one for the appropriate floor. You heard his cackling laughter fade as the doors closed.

Don't stare, don't stare, oh my God, he's so handsome and sweet--wait--don't stare, you chanted to yourself. "Did you have a good run?" you asked, then internally face-palmed yourself for the inane comment.

Bucky gave a brilliant smile before replying, "Yeah, it was good to be able to go outside and for once, it's not raining." Don't stare, don't stare, God, she's so beautiful and kind--wait--don't stare, he repeated to himself. "Looks like you bought out the whole farm, doll," he chuckled, gesturing to your nearly overflowing cart.

You followed his eyes and burst into laughter. "Yes, I guess I did! It's just that everything looked so good today, I couldn't pass it up. There's a little something for everyone in there," you noted. Bucky's face brightened. "Even for you, Bucky," you added, gesturing to the bag of plums in your cart.

His cheeks briefly flashed a dusting of pink. "Aw, thank you, sweets, but you didn't have to do that for me," he replied.

To catch his attention, you took his hand in yours and gazed into his baby blues. "I know, but I wanted to. It's okay to want things, because you deserve them and so much more," you swallowed hard to get your feelings back under control. "If there's ever something specific you want, please let me know. I'll be happy to go wherever I need to in order to find it. I don't mind, especially if it's something that would bring you good memories," you promised.

"That's really thoughtful of you, thank you. I'll try to remember that for your next trip. You going to need a hand with any of this?" he wondered.

"Nah, it's on wheels, so pretty easy. Oh! I'm making a beef stir fry and chicken fried rice later with some of these amazing veggies. You could....um....you could hang out in the kitchen while I cook? I-If you want to, b-but you don't have to. I'm sure you have more important--" your rambling was silenced by his left index finger on your lips.

"Let me take my shower and I'll be right there with you, doll," he grinned as the elevator dinged for your floor.

A warmth settled into your own cheeks despite the feel of cool metal on your lips. "Okay," you agreed, then backed out of the elevator, towing your cart behind you. "Meet you in the kitchen, Sarge," you smirked.

The elevator door started to close, so you didn't hear his reply. But you did see the genuinely surprised look on his face at the nickname, which caused you to laugh. As you turned to walk to the kitchen, you were stopped by Natasha, who stood with her eyes trained on you and her arms crossed over her chest. "Nat! What's up? And why are you looking at me like I'm in trouble?" you asked cautiously.

"No, no trouble," she replied slyly. "What was all that about, telling Bucky to meet you in the kitchen?"

You rolled your eyes. "That? Nothing," you answered with a shrug. When she didn't look convinced, you sighed in exasperation. "Ugh! Okay, I might have told him he could join me in the kitchen and watch while I cooked dinner for you all. We're just friends. No big deal, Tash," you muttered.

She relaxed her stance, but didn't give away any clues as to what she was thinking. Wanda caught up with the two of you and asked what was going on. Natasha explained what she saw when you exited the elevator and about Bucky watching you cook dinner.

Wanda's eyes widened and a huge smile graced her face at this development, and was only seconds away from breaking out into a happy dance. Before she could start, you held up your hand and reminded them that you and Bucky were "just friends" and it was "no big deal". Then you yanked on the handle of your cart, dragged it to the kitchen and grumbled under your breath about having so much to put away all by yourself.

Behind you, Natasha and Wanda were chattering back and forth, no doubt plotting your next move regarding Bucky. You paid them no mind, because you had more important things to worry about. Like how you were going to keep from cutting your fingers off with him watching your every move.

***

Bucky hastily kicked off his shoes the moment he crossed the threshold into his room. He rushed to the bathroom, shedding his clothes as he went and tossing them in the hamper. You had invited him to the kitchen, your sanctuary, to hang out and watch as you prepared the evening meal. He had to hurry because he wanted to spend every available minute he could in your presence.

When you were first brought on board as the team's manager, Bucky instantly thought you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He could tell by the way you carried yourself that you had a kind and compassionate heart, which made him fall even faster. You had a way of making everyone feel as if they were the most important person in the room when talking to them. Not exactly something he was used to having in his life, nor was having someone care about him the way you did.

Over the past eight months, Bucky has been learning about you by being around you as much as he can be. He listens when you talk about your past, your family, and your friends. He knows of your love of reading, because he hardly ever sees you without a book in your hands, even if it's a cookbook. And though you are usually up for a trip into the city with Nat and Wanda, you're much more comfortable staying in and watching movies.

He loves that you choose to sit next to him on the team's Movie Nights, and that you share your popcorn, but only with him. He appreciates that you respect his space and try not to crowd him, but lately, all he's wanted to do is get closer to you. More than a few times, you've fallen asleep on his shoulder, with his arm around you. Whenever that happened, it made his heart race and nearly sent him into the stratosphere from happiness.

But as much as Bucky would give anything to call you his girl, sometimes the doubts creep in and squash those thoughts. He had enough personal baggage to run his own airline, and what woman would want to deal with all of that? There's no way he wanted to drag you down into the deep rabbit hole that was his life, or, worse yet, expose you to any danger. He would be content to have your friendship, and it would have to be enough.

As he dried off after his shower and got dressed again, his thoughts drifted back to the singing he heard in the locker room. It was his type of music, with vocals that were nearly perfect, and it took him back to a happier time. He was going to make it his personal mission to find out who was behind the angelic voice and ask her to be his girl.

***

Never know how much I love you Never know how much I care When you put your arms around me I get a fever that's so hard to bear

You give me fever When you kiss me Fever when you hold me tight Fever In the mornin' A fever all through the night

The words and melodies from the song flowed from your lips as you chopped the various vegetables for dinner. You set them aside for the moment, along with the chicken and beef that were in a separate bowl, waiting for the wok to heat up. The rice simmered away in one of Tony's fancy, fool-proof rice cookers on the counter.

Sun lights up the day time Moon lights up the night I light up when you call my name And you know I'm gonna treat you right You give me fever When you kiss me Fever when you hold me tight Fever In the mornin' A fever all through the night

"Ah HA!" you hear someone exclaim from behind you. "I knew it was you!" Natasha declared. She had returned from her room, where she'd left her phone.

Clutching your chest at the sudden intrusion, you slowly turned around to face your friend, a panicked look in your eyes. "What?" you gasped.

"It was you, singing in the locker room a few weeks ago," she elaborated. "Barnes wouldn't stop talking about it, said he had to know who it was. I caught him roaming the halls the other day, thinking he'd figure it out by accident. Now I can tell him," she added with glee as she turned to leave.

"No, wait Tash! You can't tell him!" you blurted out. "Nobody knows about this, my singing, and I don't even think I'm that good. But....it's kinda my way of telling him how I feel about him." Your gaze dropped to the floor. "He's my friend, and if he finds out I wish it were more but he doesn't return my feelings, I....I don't know what I'd do."

She pivoted to face you and took hold of one of your hands in hers. "Trust me, you've got talent, my dear. As far as the situation with Bucky goes, I'll do what I can to help you keep your secret. But you should tell him how you feel, because you might be surprised at what happens." She gave your shoulder a pat then took a seat on one of the chairs at the island to keep you company. "Now, will you please keep singing, sweetie?" she grinned.

***

Bucky had just stepped off of the elevator and was headed for the kitchen when he ran into Steve. "Hey, Buck, where you headed?" he asked.

He explained to Steve that you had asked him to hang out while you cooked dinner, and he had accepted. He tried his best to escape before Cap could ask any more questions, but luck was not on his side. Right before they went their separate ways, Steve held out a hand to stop him and took a sniff of the air. "Wait. Are you wearing....cologne?" he wondered.

Bucky scoffed. "No, I'm not wearing cologne. Well, maybe just a little, but it's only 'cause I don't wanna risk goin' in there, reeking like the gym. I wanted to smell nice for her," he mumbled the last part, but it didn't escape his best friend's super hearing.

Steve had an inkling it was you who Bucky was trying to impress. He'd seen signs of sparks flying between the two of you and decided to dig in a little deeper. "Wait a minute. You like her, don't you?!" Steve exclaimed. He started to laugh but stopped when he saw the faraway look on his best friend's face. "What? What's wrong, Buck?"

"Shh, nothing. Just listen," Bucky whispered, breaking out into a wide grin.

Now you've listened to my story Here's the point that I have made Chicks were born to give you fever Be it Fahrenheit or Centigrade

They give you fever When we kiss them Fever, if you live you learn Fever 'Til you sizzle Oh, what a lovely way to burn Oh, what a lovely way to burn What a lovely way to burn And what a lovely way to burn

"It's that voice again," Bucky remarked in awe. "A couple of weeks back, I heard someone singing in the women's locker room. The sound came through the vents--it has to be the same woman!" He was nearly shaking with excitement that today might be the day he finds out who belongs to that enchanting voice he keeps hearing. When he heard the sound of clapping, he bolted away from Steve and around the corner to the kitchen.

"Brava! Bravissima! You were magnificent, darling!" Natasha gushed, still clapping.

When you looked up from your skillet, you saw Bucky standing in the doorway, with Steve peering around him. "Hey, guys! Come on in, have a seat," you gestured to the open chairs around where Nat was sitting.

"I heard it again, that heavenly singing," Bucky noted, his eyes darting around the room, seeing only you and Nat. "Which one of you was it?"

Your eyes locked with Nat's as you silently begged her not to share your secret. "Wasn't us, Barnes. You must be hearing things," she replied, though she didn't look pleased to be lying for you.

"Well, if it wasn't you two, what was the clapping for?" Steve asked. Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, clearly wanting to know as well.

"That was....that was because I was doing my best lip-sync of the song and showing off my best dance moves. Nat was kind enough to applaud my performance, then you guys walked in," you responded. Mentally you were crossing your fingers, hoping they were convinced.

"Oh," Bucky murmured. "Need any help, doll?"

"Um, yeah, this is almost ready. If you and Steve could please set the table, that would be great," you answered, then handed him a stack of plates and utensils.

As soon as they left the room, your shoulders sagged in relief that the matter seemed to be dropped, at least for the moment. "That was a close one," you whispered.

"Yes, it was, and it's the last time I'm going to cover for you. Either figure out a way to tell him, or I will," she warned, then her demeanor softened. "Honey, that man is smitten with whoever belongs to that sweet, sultry voice he keeps hearing. That means you, sweetie. Give him a chance, hmm?" She squeezed your shoulder on her way out of the kitchen with the serving bowls of rice.

On her way back to the kitchen, she spied Tony standing against the wall, scrolling through his phone. "I hear you had a cancellation in the entertainment section for Barnes' birthday party."

Without glancing up from his phone, Tony replied, "I did have a cancellation, what about it?" he inquired.

Natasha checked her surroundings for any eavesdroppers, then sidled up to Tony. "What if I told you, I have the perfect substitution for your entertainment? A hidden talent will be revealed, and you'll get to see the resolution to a certain birthday boy's love life," she remarked cryptically.

Tony's eyes shot up from his phone to give Natasha a sideways and wary glance. "You have my attention," he stated coolly. "What is your plan, and how much is it going to cost me?" 

Nat chuckled. "It'll only cost you a shopping trip for a dress, shoes, hair, etc. Here's what I'm thinking," she added.

***

"You did WHAT?!?!?" you exclaimed. 

"I found out Tony had a last minute cancellation in the entertainment part of Bucky's birthday party, and I told him you'd fill in for it," Nat replied with a shrug.

"Without asking me first, you told him I'd do this?" you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to keep your composure.

Wanda took your hand and guided you to sit on the couch. Tonight was "Girls' Night", where you, Nat, Wanda, Yelena, and even Pepper joined in to decompress and have fun. "Listen, I know you're scared for him to find out how you feel about him. But he's already enamored with your voice. He's just as crazy about the rest of you," she stated.

"We've all seen the way he looks at you and vice versa," Pepper chimed in, loosened up after already being a couple of drinks in. "Believe me, you have nothing to worry about in that regard. Frankly, I'm surprised Tony hasn't done anything more about it before now to push you two together," she added as she finished the rest of her drink. "You know what a meddler he is."

"Besides," Natasha added, "if you don't do it, I'll tell Thor that you forgot his Pop-Tarts that one time and didn't feel like going back out to get them. He still believes that story you told him that they were all sold out in every store. You remember how badly he sulked and pouted, how we had five straight days of thunderstorms?!?"

You gasped sharply in panic and disbelief then narrowed your gaze at her. "Ooh, low blow, Romanoff. C'mon, I was tired that day! If I remember correctly, Tony had me running all over town, picking up parts for some doohickey he was working on. You swore you wouldn't tattle on me to Thor. Huh. Some best friend," you frowned. After a minute or so, you heaved a deep sigh. "Fiiiiinnnne. You win. I'll do it."

"Honey, you have an amazing voice. And when Bucky hears it in-person coming out of the stunning figure you'll be on stage, he'll hardly be able to restrain himself," Wanda grinned.

You fidgeted with your hands in your lap, letting your friends' words sink in. You hazarded a glance at the faces of the women around you, seeing nothing but love and support. Maybe this could work, you thought. It'll have to be just the right song, though. "But what will I wear?" you smiled, then shrieked as they all threw their arms around you.

"Don't worry about that, Tony already agreed to splurge on the best: dress, shoes, hair, makeup, accessories--the works," Nat assured you.

"And trust me, we'll make sure and give Sergeant Barnes a birthday present he'll never forget," Pepper declared, raising her glass. "To Operation: Bombshell!" You and the others repeated the toast and clinked your glasses together. "Now, when are we going shopping??"

***

True to his word, Tony had pulled out all the stops for Bucky's birthday celebration. The best food, an open bar with the most talented mixologists, and a top-notch serving staff. For the entertainment, he secured a band to accompany you as would have been in the 1940s. 

Preparation for it kept you at work until late at night, more often than not. Because your job didn't always have regular hours, Tony set up an apartment for you in the Tower. That way, you wouldn't have to be concerned about safety on public transportation late at night. Nor would you have to worry about not getting enough sleep before an early morning meeting. You were grateful for the close quarters, because getting in before midnight was becoming a rarity.

On one of your many long shifts, you had forgotten something in your office, which was on the same level as the Avengers' living quarters. To get there, you had to walk past the common room, then head down a couple of hallways. Usually there wasn't anyone around this late, but tonight was the exception.

The elevator dinged to indicate you had reached your desired floor. As you approached the common room, you heard the voices of your favorite super soldier and his best friend. The closer you got, the better you were able to hear their conversation. Curious, you decided to eavesdrop a little, which, in retrospect, may not have been your best idea.

"What's the matter with you lately, Buck? Is it because your birthday is coming up, old man?" Steve teased.

"Old man? May I remind you, you're nearly as old as I am, punk," he muttered. "Anyway, nothin's the matter with me."

Steve rolled his eyes at the obvious untruth. "To put it mildly, you've been a real grump-ass lately, and I wanna know why," he paused. "It's your girl, isn't it?" Steve had confirmation of Bucky's feelings for you and wasted no opportunity to encourage him to confess to you about them.

"Language, Cap," Bucky sneered, then sighed deeply. "Yeah, it's my girl. She hasn't been able to be around very much these past few weeks. I miss her and it's starting to wear on me. I'm so used to seeing her amazing smile every day, hearing her sweet voice wish me good morning, feeling her hand on my shoulder."

You turned away from the two men, still deep in conversation, covering your mouth to muffle the sobs before they could burst out of your throat. Of course Bucky has a girlfriend, you thought. I guess the girls got it wrong this time. Those looks everyone says they see on his face are from those times he's thinking of her, not me. Whoever she is, she's one lucky lady, you noted somberly. With that last thought, you turned the corner and rushed down the hallway to your office.

***

At the sound of quick footsteps, Bucky scanned the area in time to see you dart around the corner to your office. Now's my chance, he grinned to himself. He leaped over the back of the couch and headed in your direction.

You unlocked your door and when the lights kicked on, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Tears had streamed down your face, leaving mascara tracks for anyone to see. You hurried into your executive washroom to clear up the damage.

With a wet washcloth, you began to wipe away the evidence of your heartbreak. Good for him, I guess. I hope whoever she is, she makes him happy. But this changes nothing, you reminded yourself. Bucky is my friend, and it's his birthday. I'm going to get up there and give it everything I've got. He deserves nothing less than the best, and this is the best gift I can give him, you resolved.

When you stepped out of the washroom, Bucky swore his heart skipped a beat with how beautiful you were to him. Though his brow furrowed a bit at your red, puffy eyes, and melancholy expression. Had you been crying? What happened? Who hurt you?? he wondered grimly.

Your eyes landed on your visitor, causing you to let out a gasp of surprise. "Sergeant Barnes! I wasn't expecting to see you here," you mentioned as you crossed the room to your desk.

Bucky moved towards your desk as well, wanting to get a better look at you, to be close to you. "Me and Stevie were hanging out in the common room, talking. Are you all right, doll? You look a little upset."

"Me? No, I'm okay, Bucky," you replied nervously. "Just a little tired, that's all. Tony's got me working on a project that's taking up a lot of my free time. Sorry I haven't been around much," you added with a brief smile.

"Must be an important project if Tony's got you involved. I did kinda notice when I haven't seen you as much as usual," he rubbed the back of his neck to calm his nerves. "Maybe after you're done with whatever you're working on, we can get together and make up for lost time?" he asked tentatively.

The look on his face held so much hope that you didn't dare turn him down. Above all, Bucky was your friend, and friends spent time together, right? "How about I get back to you about that after the project is all over, hmm?" you suggested.

Your response must have been the right one, as his face relaxed and broke out into that smile of his that you loved. "Great! Well, you be sure and let me know when it's all finished, and we'll find something to do together," he promised. You nodded in agreement.

Bucky stepped around your desk to stand at your side. He reached up with his right hand to trace his index finger along your cheek. "Get some rest, doll," he ordered softly. Your eyes closed involuntarily, right before he pressed his lips to your forehead. When your eyes finally opened again, you watched Bucky walking to the door. He paused in your doorway and looked back at you. "Sweet dreams, angel," he murmured.

As soon as he was gone, you dropped into your chair, placing your head in your hands. This was going to be harder than you thought, trying to manage a friendship with Bucky while he has a girlfriend. You decided to focus on your performance for his birthday party and hopefully everything else would fall into place. Once you picked up the file you came for in the first place, you re-locked your door and headed for your apartment for a night of restless sleep.

***

Two days before the party, Pepper persuaded Tony to give you the day off so she could take you and the rest of the girls out shopping in the city. In your mind, you pictured a long, slinky dress, straight out of a 1940s nightclub. You wanted something a sultry songstress would wear while crooning into a microphone, accompanied by an ensemble band.

You found the dress in the third boutique your group visited. As soon as you tried it on, you knew it was the right choice. It was a sparkly navy blue, A-line gown, floor-length, with spaghetti straps in the front that crisscrossed in the open back. It had a slit on the left that ended halfway up your thigh, revealing more leg than you were normally comfortable with. However, it was for Bucky, so it was added to the day's purchases.

Back at the Tower, Bucky had just finished his shower following a particularly intense sparring session with Steve. Before settling in the common room, he stopped in the kitchen for a plum muffin, which you had recently baked, and a bottle of water. Also in attendance were Tony, Sam, Peter, and even Thor was on Midgard after a long absence. "Lord Stark, I have not seen any of our lady friends around today. What is going on?"

"Well, you see, Asgardian Barbie, this morning, Pepper gathered up the ladies and took them shopping in the city," Tony replied. "Barnes' birthday bash is happening in a couple of days, and they all needed new dresses for the occasion," he explained.

Bucky heard Tony mention the shopping trip and realized he hadn't seen you at all today. He wondered if you had accompanied them, and if you would be at his party. He was walking from the kitchen, but in a moment of distraction, he bumped into Steve. The water bottle flew out of his hands and crashed to the floor, creating a puddle of water. He swiftly grabbed some paper towels, and as he cleaned up his mess, he asked Tony if you would be there.

Tony shrugged. "I don't know, Barnes, why don't you ask her yourself?" he gestured with a tilt of his head. Bucky's eyes followed the sound of giggling and other happy noises from you and the others as you exited the elevators.

In addition to your dress, shoes, and some accessories, you had brought back pizza for dinner. You and the girls had a late lunch, complete with cocktails, which had started to wear off in the car on the way back to the Tower. "Hey, guys! How's everything going? I shopped 'till I dropped, and I really didn't feel like cooking tonight. So, pizza it is, dig in!"

You left the pizzas on a table and headed for the kitchen to get some plates for everyone. Bucky stealthily followed you to see if you needed any help. After removing the right number of plates from the cabinet, you turned to leave, only to run straight into his chest.

"Whoa there, doll, careful. Here, I can help you with that," he chuckled as he took the stack of plates out of your hands.

"Thank you, Bucky. I'll put some drinks on a tray and bring them in," you told him.

Bucky passed out some of the plates to those already eating, then left the rest of them near the pizza boxes. He returned to the kitchen to see you still pulling drinks from the refrigerator. "So, um, my birthday party's in a few days," he started. You hummed and nodded in response. "Was kinda hoping--er--wondering if you were going to be there?" he asked.

He's so cute when he's all flustered and shy. I wonder if he's that way with her, you thought wistfully. You mentally shook off the negative notions and graced him with a smile. "Of course I'll be there, Bucky! I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Great! If you're getting ready here, I can stop by whichever room you're in. And I'd be honored to escort you to the party," he offered.

"That would normally be great, Bucky. It's just that I have a prior commitment that night, so I'll be a little late. However, I promise that I will be there to help you celebrate," you affirmed as you carefully placed the tray on the table. "Think it's time to collect my shopping bags and head to my apartment," you added while trying to stifle a yawn.

He looked around and pointed at the stack, which you nodded to confirm they were yours. "I've got them for you, sweets. Lead the way," Bucky replied. He picked up your bags with one hand, then held out his other elbow for you to take.

"Thank you, Sarge," you giggled as you slipped your arm around his and waved goodbye to everyone with your free hand.

As you walked the halls towards your apartment, you chatted about how you'd spent your day shopping, while he was training with Steve. All too soon, you reached your apartment, thus it was time for you to part ways. You were insistent that you could carry your bags inside, but Bucky would have none of it. He was equally as adamant to fulfill his duties as a gentleman and wouldn't let them go, placing them on your couch.

Bucky realized that he'd never been in your Tower apartment before today. In looking around, he noticed the personal touches you had scattered about the space, which were perfectly you. There was a soft-looking quilt draped over the back of the couch, a pair of fluffy slippers under a chair, and some photos in frames on various flat surfaces.

His eyes soon landed on the stuffed bear he'd won for you at Coney Island, sitting on a small, cushioned chair near your bookcase. He smiled to himself at the black sleeve with the gold thread woven through it that you must've stitched to the bear's left arm. There was no mistaking that the bear was meant to signify him, which warmed his heart. He kept his thoughts about it to himself while he waited for you to return to the living room area.

"So what's in the bags, doll?" he grinned mischievously as he started to peek into one of them.

You reached over and nudged him out of the way so he couldn't snoop in any of the other bags. "Oh, no you don't, mister," you interjected. "This is all 'top secret' girl stuff. You'll have to wait and see it at your birthday party, not a minute before," you added loftily.

Bucky pretended to be shocked at your refusal, then switched to giving you puppy dog eyes as a way to sway you. "Aw, come on, sweets. Please?"

You laughed at his attempts to convince you, but you waved him off. "Does that really work on your girl, the puppy dog eyes?" you asked in what you hoped was a playful tone.

A confused look briefly crossed Bucky's face at your question. "Must need to work on it a little harder, then," he murmured. "If it's okay, I'm going to head back to get some pizza before Steve and Sam eat it all," he chuckled.

Suddenly you realized he'd completely bypassed the food you'd brought in so he could walk you back to your apartment. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Bucky! Of course you don't need to stick around here with me. I've got it from here."

"Not for nothing, but if I wasn't so hungry, I'd stay here with you for a while. Have a good night, and I'll see you around, angel," he remarked.

You walked him to the door and when he had taken one step across the threshold, you called his name. He turned around to face you and in a moment of impulse, you reached up on your tiptoes and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. "Good night, Bucky," you whispered, then gently closed the door.

On the other side, Bucky stood and stared at your apartment door. His right hand reached up and touched the spot on his cheek that still tingled a bit from when you kissed him. A smile slowly crept across his face until it stretched from ear to ear. He didn't recall how he got back to the main living area, but he definitely remembered how it felt when you'd kissed him good night.

Bucky's dazed demeanor didn't escape Sam's notice, and he certainly wasn't going to let it go. "Get some sugar tonight, did you, Bucky?" he cackled. When Bucky didn't react, Sam commented further. "Look at him, he's so in love, all he can think about is his girl."

That seemed to snap Bucky out of his trance, because he rolled his eyes at Sam's comments. He grabbed a plate and started piling it high with slices of pizza. "Besides, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," he smirked, which started Sam's laughter again. Bucky rolled his eyes and took a seat next to Steve on the couch.

"So.....?" Steve prompted.

Bucky swallowed his bite of pizza and turned to meet Steve's gaze. His neutral expression gave way to a broad smile. That told him all he needed to know, that something had happened with you to make his best friend happy. Steve was sure that the two of you belonged together, and he was more than content with the notion.

***

On the night of Bucky's birthday party, your room was a flurry of activity. All the ladies decided to get ready there, except for Pepper. She promised Tony she would arrive at the venue a little early to help him greet people. You agreed that before the end of the night, a picture would be taken of all of you, dressed in your best.

Down the hall, Bucky was putting the finishing touches on his suit. Truth be told, he'd much rather be wearing something a bit more casual for his birthday party. Since you told him you'd be there, he decided to make an effort to dress up, but chose to skip the tie.

The suit was all black, with satin peak lapels on the jacket. He left the first two buttons undone on the shirt to show off his dog tags. He'd swapped out his regular boots in favor of a pair of well-polished dress shoes.

Bucky gave himself one last look in the mirror and was adjusting the collar of his shirt when Steve popped his head into the room. "Hey, Buck, happy birthday," he grinned. "You about ready to go? Stark's already there, greeting people with Pepper."

A final check of his overall appearance and Bucky declared himself ready to go. He was feeling a little nervous, especially since he normally didn't make such a big deal of celebrating his birthday. But Tony insisted, and Stark's parties were rarely, if ever, boring so he gave in. Besides, he was looking forward to seeing you there and hopefully steal a dance or two with you. "Yep, let's head out, punk," he smirked.

***

Natasha and the other girls had somehow snuck you out of the Tower and down to where Happy Hogan was waiting with the car. He shuttled you over to the venue where Bucky's birthday party was being held. Once there, he hurried around to your door to help you out of the car and wished you good luck.

Behind the stage curtain, you nervously paced back and forth, waiting for your cue to take your place out front. You ran through the lyrics in your head and practiced some of your dance routine. One by one, the band members arrived and took their places, then worked on tuning their instruments. 

About ten minutes before your performance was to start, Natasha and Wanda found you doing some last-minute rehearsing. Nat informed you that Bucky had arrived and that he was sitting at the far end of the dance floor, with everyone else filled in on either side. Before they left, they each offered some words of wisdom.

"You're going to do great, honey," Wanda assured you. "With that voice of yours, you'll probably knock Thor and Loki all the way back to Asgard." The three of you shared a laugh at the image.

"Nah, there's only one man out there she wants to impress, and he has been checking the doors like a hawk for you every time they open. And Barnes isn't my type, but let me tell you, he is looking like a delicious snack and dressed to kill," Natasha remarked. "Now get out there and use that beautiful voice of yours to tell him how you feel, sweetie," she nudged with a kind smile.

You gave each of them a hug and told them to let Tony know you were ready for everything to start. The band was putting the last minute touches on everything, adjusting their ties, or making sure the music was open to the right page. With a deep breath, you walked to your mark on the stage and waited for Tony to start the show.

"Good evening, good evening, good evening, everyone," he greeted. "We all know why we're here tonight, so let's give a warm birthday greeting to our favorite Tin Man, Bucky Barnes!"

Everyone around Bucky wished him "Happy Birthday" with a handshake, a shout-out, or even just a wave. "To commemorate his 107th trip around the sun, we have some first-class entertainment for everyone. This particular act was chosen specifically with the Birthday Boy in mind." Bucky gave Tony a puzzled look at the remark. "Without further ado, I give you your elusive Songbird."

As Tony took his seat, the house lights dimmed until they finally went out. The curtain drew back to reveal a '40s-type band, with men dressed in black pants and white jackets. There was a horn section, a string section, complete with a stand-up bass, and a percussion section.

You stood in the middle of the stage, with your back turned to the crowd. A deep breath, then the opening verse:

Birds flying high You know how I feel Sun in the sky You know how I feel Breeze driftin' on by You know how I feel

It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me And I'm feeling good

The last line is said while looking over your left shoulder. As soon as you say the last word, the band's horn section kicks up and a spotlight turns on to highlight you and your sparkly dress.

Bucky's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. There you were, his girl, his songbird, standing before him. You were dressed like he would've seen you in a nightclub from the '40s, complete with the red lipstick and the Victory Rolls in your hair. He sat on the edge of his seat, thoroughly hypnotized by your performance.

Fish in the sea You know how I feel River running free You know how I feel Blossom on a tree You know how I feel

With the microphone in one hand and your dress in the other, you sauntered down the steps in the front of the stage. Hips swaying, you first approached Bruce and laid a hand on his cheek. As you walked away from him, you gave him a finger wave. Then you sashayed over to where Thor was sitting on the other side. He reached out, but you stepped away before he could make contact. You wagged your finger and tossed him a wink over your shoulder, bringing a mischievous grin to his face.

By this time, Bucky was having a difficult time sitting still as he watched you flirt with his fellow Avengers. His eyes never left yours, focusing on your every movement as you worked your way across the floor to him. His hands itched to pull you onto his lap and lay claim to any part of your body you would let him explore. He longed to whisper about his feelings for you in your delicate shell of an ear.

Sam and Steve were keeping a close eye on Bucky, enjoying the effect you were having on him. At one point, Sam stood up from his chair and started walking towards you as if he were getting in on the act. Before he could take two steps, Bucky grabbed his jacket and forced him to return to his chair, Bucky's eyes never straying from you. Sam knew his point had been made, and mostly behaved himself for the rest of the number.

It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life It's a new life For me

And I'm feeling good I'm feeling good

Bucky was perched on the edge of his chair, entirely under your spell. Once you were finally close enough, you draped one arm around his neck and with your first two fingers, you tilted his head up. You gazed deeply into those baby blues you loved so much and noticed that only a thin rim of color was visible. When you leaned over, you put your lips close to his right ear, and whispered, "Happy Birthday, Sarge."

"It was you," he whispered back. You nodded, finally providing him with confirmation that it was your voice he's been hearing in his dreams for the past few weeks. Almost reverently, he grazed the knuckles of his right hand along your cheek. You pressed a lingering kiss to his left cheek, then turned back towards the stage, your hips swaying as you went.

On stage, the band was finishing up with the last few measures of the song while you resumed your mark, keeping your back to the crowd. As the band continued to play, you replaced the microphone in its stand and locked eyes with Bucky over your left shoulder. You gave him an exaggerated wink and blew him a kiss. When the last few notes died, the area thundered with applause, all except Bucky, who was still in his chair, stunned into silence.

As the curtains closed, you quickly exited the stage, thanking the musicians for their fabulous performance. Natasha and Wanda were waiting in the wings, where they watched the entire show and couldn't wait to congratulate you.

"Oh my God, that was amazing!!" Wanda shrieked and enveloped you into a bone-crushing hug. She bounced up and down a couple of times until she finally released you, a beaming smile on her face.

Natasha strolled over to you, gave you a wink and a knowing smirk, then pulled you to her side in a half-hug. "Knew you could do it. Bucky had his eyes on you the entire time, couldn't look at anything or anyone else but you. Still think he considers you two as 'just friends'?"

You sobered a little at her remark, remembering the conversation between him and Steve from that night you stopped at your office. Before you could tell her about it, you heard the sound of a throat being cleared. The curtain was pulled back to reveal Steve, a sheepish grin on his face and his eyes locked on you.

"Um, excuse me, but the guest of honor requests your presence for a private conversation. I have been sent to escort you to the balcony, where he's prepared to wait all night if he has to," Steve explained.

Glancing nervously at your best friends, you were met with nothing but encouragement and assurance from their gazes. Though you were nervous to hear what Bucky had to say, you felt that you owed him a chance to say his piece and let the chips fall where they may. "Okay, Steve. Lead the way, please," you replied.

Steve grinned as you curled your hand around his offered arm. "By the way, you were wonderful up there tonight. Just like the sirens me and Buck used to see on stage in the nightclubs. You know, back when we were young and full of hormones," he joked.

You lightly swatted his arm as you joined in his laughter. "Thank you, Steve. That was probably one of the bravest things I've ever done. So far, anyway. I sure hope Bucky liked it," you added.

He snorted in response. "Oh, trust me dollface, he loved it. Couldn't stop staring at you," he assured you.

On the walk over to the balcony area, many of your friends congratulated you on your singing and performance. You smiled and thanked each of them for their comments. All too soon, you were standing at the doors that led you to Bucky. A flight of butterflies took off in your stomach at full speed as you desperately tried to regain your composure.

Then you remembered what awaited you on the other side, out on the terrace. A man you were grateful to have met and considered to be one of your closest friends. A man who had always been kind to you, despite what life had put him through. Someone that made your world a better place by being in it. You couldn't see your future unfolding without him in it, nor did you ever want to.

"He's waiting for you," Steve gently reminded you. He untucked your hand from his side and kissed the back of it before returning to the party. You pushed down on the handle and swung the door open.

Bucky was standing with his hands clasped behind him, staring out over the ledge at the horizon. The noise volume from the traffic and other sounds of the city wasn't as loud as it was at the lower levels. His face lit up at seeing you, as the echo of your high-heeled shoes on the patio surface caused him to reverse his position.

"Hello, Bucky," you greeted.

"Hiya, doll," he replied, a shy smile gracing his lips. "Probably shoulda known it was you that day I heard the singing in the locker room," he grinned. His hand slowly reached up to brush his knuckles along your jawline. "You were incredible up there, sweetheart."

"Thank you, that's kind of you to say. I'm glad you enjoyed it," you replied shyly.

"I absolutely, 100%, loved it, doll. Reminds me of those clubs me and Steve used to sneak into so we could go dancing. Where'd you learn to sing like that?" he wondered.

"My grandparents kept a large vinyl collection of music from that time. My brothers and I used to spend summers with them, and it was in all the old movies we used to watch. I guess it kinda grew on me," you giggled with a shrug.

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. "Well, I'm certainly glad it did, because that was one of the best birthday presents I've ever received in my life." His hand brushed back a stray lock of hair and tucked it behind your ear, while his eyes shifted their focus from your eyes to your lips. He slowly leaned closer to you, giving you every chance to resist what he was about to do.

Suddenly your index finger was pressed against his lips, halting his advances. "Bucky, wait. Not that I haven't thought about this, but what about your girl? Isn't she here with you at the party tonight?" you worried.

Bucky gave you a puzzled look. "My girl?" he wondered. "What are you talking about, sweets?"

"I heard you and Steve in the common room. It was late and I had forgotten something in my office. You said you missed your girl and that you were so used to seeing her 'amazing smile every day'. How it was starting to wear on you about not hearing her wish you good morning or feel her hand on your shoulder," you explained.

Bucky saw how your gaze had dropped to the floor and felt you slipping from his grasp. As he racked his brain trying to recall what conversation you were referring to, you continued.

"I mean, until I heard you talking that night, I thought 'maybe....', and the girls all seemed convinced as well. But after what I'd heard...." you trailed off. "All I would ever want is for you to be happy with someone, Bucky. Even if that someone isn't me," you whispered.

You started to feel the burning of tears behind your eyes and started to move towards the door. No way did you want to break down in front of the man you loved, on his birthday, for something that wasn't his fault. You were determined to hold back until you had returned to your room.

But Bucky had other ideas.

He was still holding your hand as your steps took you closer to the exit. He gently squeezed it, which caught your attention and halted your escape. You turned to face him and when your watery eyes caught his, you saw only compassion and a hint of another emotion you couldn't quite name.

"Now, darlin', there's only one girl I can think of that I want to call mine. She's smart, funny, a bit sassy, but sweet. She's thoughtful, always thinking about others before she thinks of herself. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever met, and has the voice of an angel. I have missed her these past few weeks, but I'm guessing it's because she wanted this to be my best birthday ever. And that's made me fall even more in love with her," he declared.

As Bucky was giving his speech, he inched closer to you, step by step, until there was barely any space between you. His right hand drifted upwards to curl around your neck, his thumb brushing gently along your cheek. "You love me?" you whispered.

Bucky nodded, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Oh baby, ever since I met you, I've wanted to call you mine, but never thought you'd feel the same. Nor did I think I deserved to be with someone as wonderful as you."

Now it was your turn. "Bucky, you deserve all that this world has to offer and more. I've had feelings of more than friendship for you for a long time, probably since we met. Thought you were way out of my league, though. Parts of this world haven't been kind to you, but you haven't let it destroy the best parts of you. Past and present, all of it makes you the man I've fallen in love with. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes," you affirmed.

Bucky surged forward, crashing his mouth into yours with a groan of satisfaction. At first, the kiss was dominant, his lips moving almost feverishly against yours. Then he slowed it down, wanting to convey every ounce of passion he felt for you. He draped your arms around his neck, then pulled you closer into his embrace until you were flush with his body. Your fingers played with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, causing him to shudder. You smiled against his lips, which created an opening for Bucky's tongue to slip in and deepen the kiss, taking you by surprise.

The need for oxygen finally broke the kiss, leaving both of you panting, trying to catch your breath. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he remarked. "Definitely worth the wait."

You giggled in response. "You don't know how many times I've imagined or dreamed about kissing you. Reality is so much better," you replied.

The two of you stood, perfectly comfortable holding each other, until the balcony door opened to reveal Steve on the other side. He cleared his throat to get your attention, averting his eyes but not before you noticed a teasing smirk on his face. "Uh, Tony wanted me to let you know that it's time for cake and for you to open your gifts. Although...." he trailed off with a grin.

"Hey, punk, show some respect for me and my girl," Bucky playfully growled. Then he turned his attention to you. "You ready to go back out there and show 'em who you belong to?" he asked in a seductive voice.

"Only if you're okay with showing 'em who you belong to," you countered through half-lidded eyes and a sultry smile.

"Absolutely," he agreed. After one more searing kiss designed to make Steve a little uncomfortable, you separated. Bucky took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and led you both back to the party. When everyone saw your joined hands, cheers arose throughout the crowd in celebration of your happiness. You both laughed when you saw money change hands between a few of your friends, Tony with Natasha and Sam with Steve.

You turned to face Bucky, resting your palm on his cheek and sighing when you felt him lean into your touch. "Happy Birthday, Bucky," you whispered.

Bucky tilted his head to kiss your palm. "Best birthday ever, doll," he remarked.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags:

@katelyn--renee @lassie-bird @emoryhemsworth @hintsofhoney @wayward-dreamer @never--doubt @akshi8278 @rooweighton @phoenixisred @krazykelly @imherefordeanandbones @missvelvetsstuff

[waywardcrow]

Timeless.

Chapter VI.

Summary: 1943. 1975. 2024. Three different decades, three different lives, three different times your life and Bucky's interwined; he lost you twice, will he do it again?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader.

TW: It can change each chapter but themes of Bucky as soldier in WWII and as the Winter Soldier in general, talk about war, a hint of Sam’s love life, some cursing, kissing, lots of feelings, reader having strong "headaches", bad coworkers, some painful flashbacks and 40s mom of reader being not great, a protective Bucky, 40’s!reader is mentioned to be named Beth but that changes for 2024 version of her so I nicknamed her little bird for Bucky, Ace for everybody else, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: Please remember english is not my first language so if I make a mistake or forget something let me know.

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Previous chapter <<<

1944.

You should have never been sent to Europe.

The only reason you were a nurse was because being a doctor was forbidden to you and then the war called at your country’s door. Alex enlisted, to your mother’s pain and you followed him, not allowed to do any less than he did. You couldn’t fight but you could serve as well.

Everything was going fine until a letter came and your mother started to be crueler with you. Alex was her perfect son, the only one she loved, why God took him and left you there with her?

After a life of being pushed aside, of feeling unloved by her and with your dear dad long gone, it wasn’t hard to write to Colonel Philips and ask him to help you but you didn’t expect to land right in Bucky’s unit right after Steve Rogers became Captain America and rescued his unit and your brother’s among several others.

Alex wasn’t happy you were there, he knew how vicious your mother could be and you were his little sister, he insisted on making you go back home with him.

“I can’t Alex, I made my choice” you had honor too, run and hide just because you didn’t need to be there anymore was a coward’s act.

“I can’t protect you, little sister, not like this” he was sent home after his left leg was heavily injured, his country found him not useful to them like that and he saw enough death in his time there to don’t want to leave you behind.

The only reason you were there was him and Colonel Philips’ help, your father fought with him before passing away, Alex could use that to convince him to send you to New York.

Before he could speak, Steve approached you both.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hear but I think I have a solution”

That’s how you stayed in Europe and your brother got to live his life.

Present day.

His little bird was avoiding him.

He couldn’t blame you, if he was honest, Bucky needed to be away from you too before he did something reckless like kissing you just as he wanted that night.

Then Sam came with the perfect way to ensure he would stay far from you.

“I’m telling you terminator, something is happening in Madripoor and I think the power broker it’s going to try to fuck with us”

Bucky trusted him; Sam’s instincts were as good as his, still he wanted to tease him.

“Are you sure it’s that? Maybe you’re really eager to leave the country after you messed your date with Harper” he shouldn’t laugh, really but Sam would get back at him eventually, it was only fair.

His friend let out a frustrated groan, reclining the seat of his chair to stare at the ceiling of his office.

“I don’t know why I tell you things, Barnes”

“Because you like me, not enough to have an allergy reaction just to make me smile but-“

“I didn’t know the freaking dessert had almonds, ok?” Captain America, the right, the just, the brave, yelled like a child in a tantrum and Bucky chuckled.

“You should sent her flowers and reschedule your date after we come back”

“Why should I listen to you, Buck? You have the love life of a two hundred years old man, wait” Sam made a dramatic pause “you are a two hundred years old man”

“Hundred and seven” Bucky correct him “and fine, don’t do it, I’m going to pack for Madripoor” with that he started walking to the door and when this closed, Sam yelled at him one last time.

“This time you are the one wearing heels!”

His smile lasted until the elevator, he had a reputation after all and people couldn’t see him smile. Then the doors opened and he saw you in the corner, focused on your planner, not paying attention to anyone around until someone said his name.

Bucky barely acknowledged the agent with a nod and went into the elevator, staying as far from you as he could but it wasn’t enough, he could hear your heart beating like a drum, he could smell you, if he closed his eyes, he could feel your skin.

He needed to control himself but how could he do it? Bucky was addicted to you since the first time he saw you and the only thing between you and him were two agents that when they got out, both sent a poisonous glance on your direction and that made him act without thinking.

The massive body of Sargent Barnes stood in front of you, shielding you from them until the doors closed. That didn’t went unnoticed by you when you reacted like if someone else directed your actions and touched his back to calm him down, making the muscles relax under your fingertips.

“I’m sorry” he was the first one to speak, turning around to face you, holding your hand between his. Three days without you and he was going insane, after decades being apart, having you back for a few days just to be separated from you was more of what his old heart could handle.

Maybe Sam should take someone else to Madripoor.

“What for?” was the only question that left your lips before he punched a button behind him to make the metal box stop and he took you in his arms to kiss you.

Bucky was weak but only when it came to you, he was powerless for you in 1943, in 1975, right now in the fucking elevator of the Avengers tower and he couldn’t give a damn about it.

The first touch of your lips on his got him hooked on you again, the way you hold on his shoulders to stay on your feet while you kissed him back with the same desperation, letting him in when Bucky’s tongue searched for yours, melting in his arms when you intertwined your fingers in his hair.

You missed his long hair.

A wave of pain dragged you away from him; one second Bucky was kissing you like the world would end and the next he was on his knees holding you close, afraid you were going to disappear right in front of him.

“Did I hurt you, little bird? Tell me, tell me how to fix it, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” the soldier mumbled against your hair while you tried to make sense of his words, gripping the material of his shirt with your fingers, fighting the pain that made you close your eyes.

“It’s my head, I’m fine Jamie, you did nothing wrong” his heart hurt in his chest hearing you call him Jamie again. Only you did that, in the 40s.

“I’m going take you to the medbay, little bird” he stood on his feet taking you in his arms like it was nothing and put the elevator in movement again but you shook your head, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I’m fine, I swear, put me down please”

He refused, something was happening and he would not stand there pretending everything was fine, besides the doors opened again and Yelena and Kate saw you being carried by Bucky. Your face felt so hot you could fry an egg on it for sure.

“Should we ask?” Kate looked very confused but Yelena just shook her head.

“Let them get out Bishop, is better if we don’t know”

Bucky didn’t spare them a look but you, oh, this day was getting more interesting every minute.

First Stephen Strange stopped canceling his meeting with Pepper and when you introduced yourself, he stared at you for a whole minute like you were in a zoo exhibit, then that two dumb agents followed you an entire floor whispering things about you, about your simple clothes and how you probably slept with someone to be there after what you did on the last gala, then Bucky Barnes kissed you.

He kissed you and it was enough to stop the world.

His lips were so gentle with you, coaxing you to let him in, to let him taste you. Bucky kissed you like you were something to be worshipped and only your stupid headache was strong enough to separate you from him.

“What happened?” was the first thing Dr. Banner said when he saw you both coming through the glass doors. He finished his work on Peter’s cut and Bucky placed you with gentleness on one of the beds.

“I’m fine” you started but were interrupted by blood coming out of your nose “oh no, I’m sorry, let me…” before you could move, Bucky was there holding a Kleenex box for you, making you curse in your head.

What was happening?

Dr. Banner narrowed his eyes, taking in your appearance.

“She had a strong headache that made her almost faint minutes ago”

“And it’s not the first time that happens as far as I know” Dr. Banner gave you a polite smile when you looked at him confused “I got your medical file when you started working here and we remember what happened at the gala”

That incident would haunt you forever.

Cleaning your nose again, you made your choice.

“It’s fine, the doctor in ER told me it was probably due to stress and lack of sleep, maybe my body is still catching up” trying to don’t make this bigger than it was, you made an effort to get up but your legs gave away and if not for Bucky and Peter you would have end up on the floor.

“You should stay miss” Peter’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern. He was so sweet.

“Please little bird, you can’t go around feeling bad” Bucky took your hand on his and started to rub circles on your skin, oblivious of the other two avengers’ presence.

It was true but you just started working with Pepper, people talked shit about you already, this would not help.

“Sorry, Ace but you need to stay for a few tests; if everything is in order you can go back to work” Dr. Banner promised. After you gave him a hesitant nod, he fixed his glasses on his nose “FRIDAY, please scan Ace’s vitals”

“On it, Dr. Banner” a red light covered you and then the whole room drowned on darkness “I detect something amiss, we should call Dr. Stephen Strange” were the last words FRIDAY spoke before she went completely silent.

Tag list: @cjand10 @bunnyforhim @cookingdancingchick @moon-light1928

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list feel free to let me know.

Hello! I'm so sorry for leaving this long but a lot happened and the inspiration abandoned me, I didn't know what to do with this story so I just went to the point and made these two kiss haha and know we are back! Tell me what you think!

Love, Lily.

[jointherebellion215]

Birdie

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"

A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)

You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!

Songs Mentioned in This Fic:

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters

G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer

The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.

Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.

Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.

You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.

It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly. 

All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.

Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.

“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”

Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.

Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.

“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”

You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”

Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.

An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.

“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.

You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”

They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.

“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.

“He brings you coffee every morning.”

“I thought he does that for everyone.”

“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”

“He takes care of his appearance!”

“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”

“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”

“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”

“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”

“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”

“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”

“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”

“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”

“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”

That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.

“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.

“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.

“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?” 

You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.

“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.

Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands. 

“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.”  You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.

Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.” 

“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.

“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”

You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely. 

“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”

You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.

One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her. 

The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.

One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.

Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,

“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”

She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her. 

“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”

“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd. 

“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”

The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you. 

The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.

You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.

Meanwhile…. 

Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.

“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”

Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.” 

As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?

A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over. 

Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.

DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”

“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.

I’ll catch you up

When I’ve emptied my cup

When I’ve worn out my friends

When I’ve burned out both ends

Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.

His little Birdie.

“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.

When I’m pure like a dove

When I’ve learned how to love

He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.

As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love” 

It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.

John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.

Then the world starts back up and carries on.

Right here in the old therebefore

When nothing is left anymore

Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base. 

The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.

Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred. 

Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.

“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.

His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.

Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.

“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”

Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.

His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.

“She kinda snuck up on me.”

[xreader-obsessions]

WWII!Bucky x Nurse!Reader Part 1

Summary: A story about you and Bucky's growing relationship and how you ended up together. 

You strip an old bed of dirty sheets and finish tucking the pristine white sheet onto the matress. The off white sheets of the last patient lay in a mound on the floor. You try to pick up all the sheets, but they tower over you to block your view when bundled together; some parts drag on the floor.

"Always on work huh?" Bucky, a soldier you met just a few weeks ago, questions you. 

"Just the best for our soldiers." You say, looking around the sheets to see Bucky. He smiles and relieves you of a little over half your load.

"No thank you?" He questions proudly. You roll your eyes at the man. Ever since you kissed him on the cheek two days ago as a thank you, he has been waiting for a special thank you every time he helps you out of a bind. He use to rescue you without a word, never needing a reward or praise, just the right to tease you about it here or there.

"Sorry Bucky, kisses are only for helping with very important tasks."

"Hmm..I wonder what a real kiss would cost then?" Buck purposely thinks a loud. You try to hold back your laugh, but fail to do so. He is getting more brave with his flirting towards you. Before he was still a little nervous, shy even.

"You would have to help me with something extraordinarily big for that mister."

"What if I save up my rewards for one? Cash all of them in at once?" You ignore his teasing and instead give him a normal thank you to replace the one he is looking for.

"Thanks." You mumble. Naturally you would not accept help with the things you do from other soldiers. You are independent and strong. When you would get help, the men would label you as another helpless dame and nothing got on your nerves quicker. You could never work that false label off.

It was different with Bucky though. He never made fun of you to be mean. He might tease you, but you always find it cute. 

"So how has your week been here so far?"

"We have been getting less wounded soldiers and they are healing quicker. I cannot help, but note the number of soldier here are dwindling." You drop your sheets in a laundry basket and Bucky does the same. Following your example. 

"Don't tell anyone I told you this, but I think they are being captured by enemy troops." You grimace at his words.

"Nazis or the new threat? Hydra?"

"You know about them?" Bucky questions in surprise. No one is suppose to know about them. Especially the nurses. "I am not blind Buck. I put two and two together from tidbits of stories from the wounded. More than half of our soldiers have gone to the Hydra base and all of them have been labeled under MIA or KIA."

Bucky is quiet before he continues the heavy conversation. "That's what I came here to talk to you about. I have been assigned the job of getting rid of a Hydra strong hold with the Howling Commandos."

"I understand." You say, as you swallow the lump that has just formed in your throat. You cannot lose him. You never needed someone before, but you admit it; you do not know what you will do without him by your side. He pulls you aside and puts his hands on your shoulders. 

"I have to do this." You nod at him, trying to figure out what to say. Trying to be strong for him.

"You will be back, ok." You say those words more as a reassurance to yourself than a promise to him. He kisses you on the cheek before walking off to the caravan with other soldiers. You watch him climb in and you both wave to each other. You do not leave until the dust his car kicked up has faded and he is gone.

Part 2

[buckets-and-trees]

Buck's Eleven

Title: Buck's Eleven Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: Bucky and Steve with mentions of Bucky x ex!wife Reader Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Going into a job this big, you have to take the house or know the house will hunt you down and swallow you into its belly. Vegas is unforgiving. Good thing they're the best at what they do.

Content/Concept Warnings: Thief/Con Artist AU, smoking, 1960s elements, references to sexual acts

Notes: CONQUERING FOUR EVENTS/CHALLENGES, which is my crowning moment this summer:

@buckybarnesevents WEEK FIVE of Hot Bucky Summer: "When I First Met You..."

Sixth square of @buckybarnesbingo U4: "AU: Historical"Playing Games"

Featuring Lemonade and a Road trip for @the-slumberparty's June Challenge

AND MY FOURTH AND FINAL SQUARE for Connect4 Alternate June-iverse: C4 "Thief/Con Artist" (and including an Alpine sighting so I can collect my TOE BEANS)

This is an MCU homage to Ocean's Eleven drawing direct inspiration from the 1960 and 2001 films. The 2001 has been one of my favorite heist movies since it came out, and I had never seen the 1960s original until this week, but once I started watching it, my jaw dropped with excitement over how ripe it was to adapt for a Bucky (and Steve) AU because in the original, it's 15 years after WWII and the crew is a reassembled group of guys who were in the army together!

I borrowed some dialogue beats directly from the 2001 film, and those are in bold italics.

Story graphic by me, story dividers by @firefly-graphics, reblog graphic by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Bucky takes a seat in the chair across from the penitentiary’s release board and settles his hands casually in his lap.

The man in the center taps his cigarette in the ash tray before returning it to his lips. “Please state your name for the record.”

“James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Thank you. Mr. Barnes, you’re meeting with this board today to answer a few questions so we can determine whether or not you intend to break the law again.”

Bucky nods. Contrition. Congeniality. A touch of charisma, but nothing too memorable. That’s what he must serve up.

“This is your first conviction, but you have been implicated in a long list of other cases for confidence schemes and frauds. Is this a fair and accurate record?”

Bucky glances at the doll off to the side at a small table of her own, clicking away impressively at a typewriter.

“I expect your records to be nothing but accurate, though – as you said – I’ve been implicated but never charged.”

“Mr. Barnes, what we’re trying to find out is: was there a reason you committed this crime, or was there simply a reason you got caught this time?”

“My wife left me. I was upset. I fell into a self-destructive pattern.”

Exactly what he knows they would like to hear.

“If released, is it likely you would fall into a similar pattern?”

Bucky cocks his head almost imperceptibly. “She already left me once; I don’t think she’d do it again just for kicks.”

“Fellas, you know I’d do almost anything for ya, but not… not this,” Banner looks between them, rubbing the back of his neck.

Steve smiles warmly, the smile he knows tricks his friends and his marks into whatever he needs. “Why waste all the little tricks that the army taught us just because it’s sort of peaceful now?”

The din of the night club around them – games of cards, dames performing on stage, drinks being served up all around – gives them all the privacy they need to hold a sensitive conversation around the table, just the three of them.

“We’re trained men,” Bucky adds.

“I know. I know you are, and we always did good work.”

“Better with you on the crew, you keep us careful.”

“You remember a little operation called Stacks back on the Sokovian front?” Steve asks.

“Do I! Eleven of us in and out under the cloaking of the trees at night with more Axis piles of cash than was decent for either side to have stockpiled away.”

“We should have buried it,” Bucky says.

“Speaking of money, you’re going to need an enormous amount of backing to pull this off in Vegas. The city’s not a sleepy little town tucked away near the mountains and off the grid of the main occupation, it’s got a million neon lights glowing on it every night.”

“Fury, easy.”

“None of us are gonna be as easy as you think. You’ll need the best electrician around, and Tony’s out.”

“Got religion?” Bucky asks.

“Naw, he and Pepper have got a kid now.”

Bucky looks to Steve, but he seems unconcerned. “Morgan – she’s cute.” Steve looks back to Banner. “I think he’ll do it.”

Banner shakes his head, but grins. “Pepper’s already unhappy he’s back in the game on the fluffy jobs, but if you think you can convince him… You get Fury and you get Tony, I’ll play ball with you.”

“You can’t do it. It’s impossible. I made it impossible. I invented casino security. When I first met you boys, you were bright young cocky upstarts. Now you’re bright and cocky – and just lucky that most of the time you’re not too cocky. Now I like you boys, but it can’t be done.”

“You know what? You’re probably right.”

“Eyes were too big for our stomachs.”

“You would know better than anyone.”

“Sure, sure. I just don’t want to see you boys behind bars, especially since you’re fresh out, Barnes.”

“Well, we appreciate the lemonade all the same,” Steve says, setting down his now empty glass.

“It’s hand pressed every morning down at the river market.”

“And thank you for taking care of Alpine while I was away,” Bucky scratches the the head of his white cat, who hasn’t stopped purring since being reunited. He scoops her up to his chest, and he and Steve stand to leave.

“It was good to see you, Nick,” Steve says.

“Give Maria your addresses on the way out, she’s got me a good source on Cuban cigars, I’ll send each of you a box.”

Bucky nods. “That’s sure nice of you.”

They turn and start to walk across the terrace toward the patio doors.

Fury looks after them. He sighs. “Tell me the marks.”

They slowly turn back, appearing to casually answer, but knowing this will bring him in.

“The… Sahara–“

“–Sahara, the Riviera, and the Dunes,” Bucky finishes.

“Hold on.” Fury stands. “Those are Pierce’s places. What do you two got against Pierce?”

“Pierce is the king on top of the mountain right now, nothing more than that.”

“I still owe him for how he got me with Project Insight,” Steve adds, “but I could get him back some other way. The golden opportunity to knock over his casinos on the fight night of the year, Thor vs. Starlord in a few weeks? That’s just destiny giving me the gift to make it sweeter that it’ll be his money.”

“And, Rogers, you’re okay with this knowing full well who the dame rumored to be attached to his son’s arm?”

“Yep,” Steve says without hesitation. “It’s not about her. Pierce is the king on the top of the mountain right now, we just want to topple him over. I still owe him for Project Insight. Besides, Buck’s not stupid enough to make this about a dame who divorced him, and like you said it’s only a rumor that she’s his doll.”

Fury turns his stare to Bucky. He shrugs. “She’s made it pretty clear with the divorce papers.”

He studies him for a moment, then seems satisfied.

“And you’re just going to go on your little road trip across the country recruiting your team?”

“Who doesn’t love a summer road trip?” Bucky asks, a full grin on his face.

“Sam’s already in Sin City, picked out a nice house for us to set up and lay low in Henderson.”

“Henderson’s nice and sleepy. Banner will be there by the end of the week, and we just came from seeing Tony.”

“You should swing through Salt Lake City, look in on the Maximov Twins, they’re pulling off some impressive stuff among the locals there.”

“I’ll put them on the list.”

Steve leans up against the side of the convertible while Bucky starts to pump the gas.

“Sam’s not eager about the kid.”

“I know he’s not,” Bucky smirks. “But he’s our grease man. There’s a reason they’re calling him the Spider Boy Wonder now. Besides, he was a kid before I went in, it’s been four years, he’s not a kid anymore.”

“He’s impressive.”

Steve lets silence fall for a beat.

“Tell me it’s not about her. Tell me you are not stupid enough to make this about her.”

Frankly Bucky is shocked and impressed that it took Steve thirty minutes to press him about you now that he knows.

“It’s not about her, it’s about five million cool a piece.”

Steve looks dubious. “Because when we say ‘till the end of the line…’”

“It’s not about her, she just happens to be there, but I’m not ignoring that fact – we’re just going to use it to our advantage because she’ll be a blind spot for him.”

“Because she was a blind spot for you?”

“No, she was never that.” She was fireworks, electricity, what kept him sharp when he was on his game, before he got caught and sulked behind bars.

Steve sighs and his face softens. “I know. Just promise me we don’t do anything stupid.”

"No, nothing stupid. Too much riding on this. Heist of our lives."

As they pulled out onto the street, car aimed for the interstate, Bucky wouldn't spend the duration of the road trip thinking about you, but you would cross his mind frequently, as you always had.

With the miles ahead of them, the memories of you could distract him in peace. Thoughts of when he first met you. Thoughts of sneaking into rooftop parties and pools at places like Fury’s like you two had done when you were both too broke to get in any other way. Thoughts of his hand disappearing under your skirt and up to tease the delicious heat between your thighs. Thoughts of your head falling back and exposing your throat to him. Thoughts of your head falling forward to rest against his. Thoughts of you gasping beneath him as he thrust inside you. Thoughts of you wrapped up in his arms, leaning against his chest as you watched the sun set on your little balcony of that third-floor apartment in the city. Thoughts of the soft mornings and late nights in the bed you had shared together until you didn’t. Thoughts he fights both to hold onto and forget.

But you were unforgettable. You were his. You had to be his again. He's waited for just the right angle to set you in his sights again, and he knows he can get you as sure as he knows they will walk away with over fifty million and without a trace.

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[sebastianstanisahotmf]

Overlooked

Steve Rogers x reader

A/N This fic is about how overlooked Steve's trauma was in the films. It's just my opinion since he definitely would have had struggles but they weren't really seen in the films. Once again this is just my opinion. Idk if I like this though so I might delete it. I'm not sure though. Also, all mistakes are my own so if you see any feel free to comment them and likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated.

18+ MINORS DNI, THERE'S NOTHING EXPLICIT IN THIS FIC BUT IT DEALS WITH HEAVY THEMES

Summary Steve is struggling and you convince him to get help

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/SITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings Fluff, angst (a lot), allusions to being suicidal kinda (if these things trigger you in any way then please don't read it)

Steve was your everything. He was the reason you woke up with a smile every day. You trusted him with your deepest secrets and he does the same with you. That’s how you got into the position you were in. 

Steve was lying on your chest while you ran your fingers through his soft hair as he sobbed. It broke your heart to see him in such a state but, there was nothing you could do but hold him until the crying stopped. 

This wasn’t an unusual situation for the both of you to be in. This broke your heart when you came to that realisation since it made you think of how much you saw Steve in such a state.

It was because of Steve being misunderstood by everyone. Everyone saw America’s golden boy who bravely fought in WWII and continues to fight for justice. They saw his best friend -formerly the winter soldier- fighting his inner demons and PTSD. 

What they didn't see was the man who was scared to admit he was tortured by memories as well. They didn’t see the man who had nightmares almost every night. They didn’t see the man who would cry for hours on end thinking about the people he watched die, the people he was too late to save, the people he thought he should have swapped places with. 

They might not have seen that, but you did. You saw the look of pure horror on Steve’s face after each nightmare, you saw the way his hands trembled and you saw the way Steve would try to fight back the tears. You saw everything. 

Steve was so thankful to have you in his life. You brightened his day and made life worth living. Especially in moments like these.

His arms were wrapped around you as he snuggled into your chest. The blanket was over his head; a cocoon of safety, protecting him from the outside world. 

As his sobs turned into whimpers and his breathing evened out, you slightly lifted the blanket so you could look at your boyfriend.

“Do you wanna talk about it baby?” you questioned.

“Could y-you just hold m-me for a bit l-longer?” he replied.

“Of course I can,”

You stayed like that for a while before a thought entered your mind.

“How about we tell Dr Cho or Banner about this Stevie.”

“W-why?” He stuttered, trying not to panic.

“Because babe it hurts me to see you in such a state, especially as often as it has been happening lately.”

“It’s not that bad doll. Bucky’s got it worse,” he responded.

“Maybe he has, but that doesn’t take away from your struggles.”

“B-but what will everyone think? I’m supposed to be Captain America, the man with a plan. Their symbol of hope,” he said, starting to hyperventilate.

“Look at me, Steve,” he lifted his arms so he was resting on them and facing you, “Breathe with me,” you took slow, deep breaths in through your nose and let them out through your mouth.

Steve started to copy you and in no time, he was back to breathing normally.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time baby. Nobody is,” 

“B-but-”

“It’s okay to have struggles. You have every right to ask for help. You went through a war, lost your best friend and then woke up seventy years into the future. If anyone deserves to get help it's you.”

Steve looked at you with pure admiration and love in his eyes. 

“I love you so much, doll.” He leaned in to kiss you, it was so gentle and full of love.

“I love you too Stevie, that’s why I want you to get help. Please. I’ll go with you if you want and I’ll be there for you. Every step of the way.”

“You’re perfect darling,” Steve replied, laying back down on your chest.

“So does that mean you’re going to ask Dr Cho or Banner for help then?” you asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I will do it tomorrow,” Steve looked up at you and then continued in a voice so small and innocent it almost didn't sound like him, “Will you still come with me?”

“Of course I will babe,” you responded with a smile.

_________________________________________

The next day, you woke up to Steve kissing you on the cheek and smiling at you. 

“Good morning, doll,” he whispered.

“G’morning baby,” you replied, kissing him.

“I already booked an appointment with Banner at 1:15pm.” He told you with a smile on his face.

You pulled him down to kiss you, “I’m so proud of you Stevie,” you kissed him again, “so proud.”

Steve’s cheeks had gone red from the praise. Then, he got up and went into the bathroom, leaving you alone in bed with a big smile on your face. 

Once Steve came out of the bathroom, you went inside while he went into the kitchen to make the both of you some coffee and pancakes.

Maybe Steve was struggling but he had you and that’s all that mattered. You gave him purpose and someone to love and he would forever be thankful for that.

Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier, @nicoline1998enilocin

if you want to join my taglist just click on the link

Also, if you want to see the things that I repost then you can follow my other account @sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs

[irelandking]

avenger bucky x regular reader fic recs

bucky barnes x reader

❤️ = fluff 😔 = angst 🔥 = smut 📱 = social media au

multiparts/series:

the shot heard round the tower - @pellucid-constellations

Part 2: Unwarranted Weakness You just want to know if Bucky has feelings for you. Bucky just wants you to be okay. ❤️😔

flowers bloom - @teamatsumu

soulmate au, Whenever someone is injured, flowers bloom on their soulmate at the area of the wound. She is born with flowers around her entire left shoulder. ❤️

hero for hire - @delicatelyherdreams

Tired of constantly being sat on the sidelines for missions, Bucky Barnes decides that he’s going to do his own hero work and offer his services to the public as a freelance “hero for hire.” He expects to be asked to rescue cats from trees or help little old ladies cross the street, but he doesn’t expect to get tangled up in your life. He definitely doesn’t expect to fall for you either. But, when you’re a hero for hire, you’ve gotta see the mission through ❤️😔

under oath - @ugh-supersoldiers

The people called for justice, the state answered. The trial of State v. Barnes is set to begin, and the odds are most certainly not in favor of the not so beloved ex Winter Soldier. That’s where you come in, the quick, smart, and all too brave lawyer set on defending and saving one Bucky Barnes from legal prosecution. The only problem? He’s not so sure he’s worth saving at all. 😔🔥

little boy blue - @samingtonwilson

Next Parts: Little Bo Peep, Sticks and Stones, A was an Apple Pie steve coaxes bucky to go on one of his classroom visits ❤️

wordpeddler - @heli0s-writes

An online petition for the Avengers to be interviewed turns into a series of misadventures with the so-called wordpeddler. ❤️📱

sure, jan - @buckysmischief

While writing your college history paper on WWII, you decide to tweet your favorite avengers, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, for help. They were also the most qualified. It’s not like they would actually reply, right? ❤️📱

must've been the wind - @pies-writes-and-more

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 Bucky helps reader out of an abusive situation 😔

play pretend - @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

part 2 you ask bucky to pretend to be your boyfriend in a bar ❤️🔥

cookies, kisses, and such - @stevebabey

part 2: candlelight and cuddles bucky moves in next door to you and you bake him cookies ❤️

sunrise - @wkemeup

After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is discharged from active duty and sent back to civilian life. Left with a storm of unchecked guilt, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meetsyou. (Modern AU) parings: bucky x reader (veteran!bucky x librarian!reader) ❤️🔥

uncle buck - @enchantedbarnes

You take your nephew to a Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson Q&A event. The mischievous 8-year-old asks if he can get in line to ask a question. Against your better judgement you agree and let him go up by himself. ❤️

oh no, that's bad - @andyl394

You’re a college student, you’re mad angry, Bucky ruins your paper, that’s not good is it? ❤️📱

bucky's bistro dates - @wonderlandmind4

A Bistro owner is witness to Bucky Barnes bad dates. ❤️

café crema - @wonderlandmind4

The first time was an accident. The second time was coincidence. The third time is just unlucky. The fourth time is getting out of hand and the fifth may or may not be with intent. Otherwise known as The One Where He Spills Her Coffee. ❤️🔥