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#CMMSECRETSANTA
sunmoonandeddie · 5 years
Text
marriage story
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
word count: 5,641
summary: Fake marrying Bucky was only supposed to be a means to an end.
prompt: college au, fake marriage au, and enemies to lovers
warnings: swearing, talk of past sexual abuse
a/n: This was written for @broadwayandnetflix​ for @bucky-smiles​‘s Secret Santa!  SURPRISE!!!!  I’m so sorry I’m a day late, I just wanted to make sure it was as good as I could make it!!  I really hope you enjoy!!!
You weren’t sure how you ended up staring at divorce papers.
Hell, you’d just graduated college three weeks ago and had miraculously landed your first job that was conducive to your career.
And now, you were a divorcée at the age of twenty-one.
Granted, your marriage had lasted much longer than a lot of those that happened when the two people were teenagers.
It had also been fake, but that’s beside the point.
You read over the divorce papers for the eightieth time since they’d arrived.  Both of you took your individual things, no need for lawyers…
It had all seemed so simple when it first began.  A means to an end.
You were eighteen and stupid.  Desperate.  You had no idea what the consequences would be.
You had no idea that you’d actually fall in love with your husband.
He’d needed to live off campus since he couldn’t afford the on campus housing.  At a minimum of seven thousand dollars a school year, it was ridiculous.  You couldn’t really afford it either, but the school had a rule that you couldn’t live off campus until your junior year, and the two of you were still second semester freshmen.
Then there was the issue with your FAFSA.  You weren’t exactly on good terms with your parents.  And by not on good terms, you meant that you didn’t speak to them.  At all.  Getting their tax information wasn’t going to happen, and it wasn’t like they were helping you pay for college.
But FAFSA wouldn’t let you fill it out as an independent student until you were twenty-one.  Apparently, being cut off from your parents wasn’t enough of a ‘special circumstance’ to allow it.
But, there was one little thing that could fix all that.
Matrimony.
If you were married, you’d have to file independently.  No questions asked about parents.
And the university would allow you to live off campus, too.
It was a perfect solution.  A quick little trip to the courthouse.
Living together had seemed logical.  A little two bedroom apartment was much cheaper than seven thousand dollars for nine months in a dorm room you had to share.
Plus, you had to keep up the illusion to the school and the government that you were married.
Outside of living together though, there wasn’t much needed.  Each of you wore a fake ring when you went to your meetings with your advisor and your classes.  It kept the rabid frat boys away from you, at least.
And then there were the scholarships.  Turns out, there are scholarships specifically for married college kids, and your advisor thought you were just perfect for it because she’d never met such a wonderful couple.
It was all perfect.  Until it wasn’t.
First off, you and Bucky didn’t even really like each other when all of this started.  You only knew each other because you were best friends with Natasha, who was his best friend’s girlfriend.  It had actually been the two of them that had gotten the idea in the first place.
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“So, I’m sure you’re wondering why we gathered you here today,” Steve said, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.
“Steve, this is my room.”
This was not how you wanted to spend your Saturday night.  You’d worked a double that day, from eight in the morning to ten that night.
The perks of working at a bar that did Mimosa Mornings on the weekends.  The worst part was that you weren’t even allowed to take a shot or two to help you get through it since you were eighteen.
Stupid fucking law.  If you could work in a bar, you should be able to drink to deal with the customers.  Because fuck, they’re horrible.
But you made more than you’d be making at Buffalo Wild Wings, that’s for sure.
“Can we just get whatever this is over with?” Bucky asked from across the room.  He definitely wasn’t keen to be stuck in a room with you for any longer than necessary.  “I have work in the morning.”
“Same here,” you added, narrowing your eyes at the two who sat in front of you.
Natasha was your best friend and your roommate, but fuck were you ready to put out a ‘New Friends Wanted’ sign.  You could take applications.
Requirement number one: Must not be dating the best friend of the most annoying prick in the world AKA Bucky Barnes.
Requirement number two: Must not be waiting to ambush you in your own dorm room with said prick.
“So, both of you are having issues with the university,” Nat said as she took out a bunch of papers.  “The dorms are crazy expensive and you’re not allowed to live off campus.  Also, FAFSA is ridiculous.”
“And we have a solution,” Steve said, a grin on his face.  He was such a giver.  He loved his friends more than anything in the world and would literally give anything for them.  Seriously.  You’d once watched him actually give the shirt off his back to Bucky when the latter had gotten drunk at a party and puked all over his.
He’d also gotten it on your shoes, and Bucky had just burped and said, “They look better now.”
The disgusting asshole.
“Well, spit it out,” you said, rubbing your temples.  You were still in your uniform, a pair of cut off jean shorts and a tank top.  Your hair smelled like cigarette smoke and someone’s beer that they spilled on you.  “I’d like to go to sleep before sunrise, please.”
“You two could get married.”
Both you and Bucky stared at them like they’d grown two heads.
“I’m sorry…  What the fuck did you just say?” You asked, standing up.
Natasha rushed to continue, still grinning.  “If you two get married, the university will let you live off campus, and FAFSA will let you file as independent!”
“And it’s cheap!  A marriage license only costs like… fifty bucks?  Something like that!” Steve said.
Well…  It wasn’t… a horrible idea, even if you and Bucky might end up killing each other before then.
“I don’t know...,” you said, the whole idea making you nervous.  Marriage?  Come on.
Bucky crossed his arms over his chest defensively.  “I really don’t want to be married to her.  We’d kill each other before we hit our six month anniversary,” he mocked, shooting a glare your way.
“It would only be until you graduate!” Natasha said.  “And then, you two get divorced and it becomes a funny story to tell at parties!”
You shared a look across the room with the brunette.  It would solve your problems…
“Fine.”
Turns out, getting married was a lot easier than you thought it would be.  All four of you went to the courthouse that next Tuesday when all of you had a break in between classes.
You wore a sweatshirt and leggings, your ratty sneakers that were covered in mud along the bottom.  Bucky wore jeans and a university hoodie.
Not exactly usual wedding attire.
Natasha, ever the optimist ever since she met Steve, had shoved a daisy she’d picked in your hair.
And an hour later, you’d walked out as Mrs. Barnes.
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Wrapping your arms around yourself, you stood up from the couch and walked around the little place you’d called home since you were eighteen.
It had been quiet the first few months.  You signed a lease on an apartment a few blocks from campus and had moved in right at the end of the school year, but he went home with Steve to Brooklyn, New York.
You were alone the entire summer except for the few weekends that Natasha managed to come visit.  The only time you and Bucky spoke was when he texted you to let you know when he was moving in.
And that’s when the fighting had started.
As you stared at a picture of the two of you on the wall, you couldn’t help but laugh.  In the photo, you two were sitting on the couch, holding a cake that Natasha and Steve had gotten you as a joke.  HAPPY 2ND ANNIVERSARY! was written across it in bright blue icing.
It was a far cry from when you two had first moved in.  Everything was an issue.  You didn’t do this, he did that, the both of you wanted to watch different movies and he had brought the television but you’d brought the DVD player.  Everything.  Hell, you’d sleep on the bean bag in Natasha’s dorm some nights because even being in the same apartment as him was too much.
Eventually, there was compromise.  An understanding grew between you and with that, a truce.  You couldn’t keep living like you were.
You were pretty sure the war had finally, silently ended one late night in October.  It was the weekend before Halloween, and you’d had the worst shift of your life.
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Your keys clanged as you unlocked the front door, trying to open it as quietly as possible.  Even from where you stood, you could see the clock above the stove that read 1:42 AM.  You were supposed to be off at ten, but that clearly hadn’t happened.  One of the other girls working had gotten sick and you were forced to cover the few hours she was supposed to work alone until close.
And to add onto that, you made less the entire weekend than you had last Friday night.  You’d been hit on, groped, yelled at.  Fuck.  You just wanted to collapse in your bed.
“You’re home late.”
“Fuck!” You jumped in shock, your heart pounding in your chest.  God.  Your anxiety had just spiked and the exhaustion you’d been feeling was replaced with your fight or flight instinct.
Bucky was standing in the hallway entrance, brows furrowed.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to scare you.”  He had on those gray sweats that he looked so good in…
No!  Down girl!  Bad!
It didn’t matter that he was hot.  He was a total dick.
Though, lately he’d be rather kind.  Nice.  There’d been less fights in the past few weeks.
You cleared your throat, looking away from him.  “Yeah, Wanda got sick, so I had to close.”
“There’s dinner in the microwave,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Oh.  Thank you.”
He nodded, before disappearing down the hall.  It surprised you when you heard the bath start, but whatever.  Whether or not he took baths was none of your business.
You were surprised to find a huge bowl of vegetable soup in the microwave.  Huh.  You’d just been talking to Natasha about how much you missed your mom’s homemade version.
Whatever.  It wasn’t like you’d ever be having that again.
You let your head rest on the counter as you waited for the soup to heat up.  Fuck.  Your entire body ached.
“Hey, do you want epsom salt?” Bucky called out from the bathroom.
“Uh, what?” You said as you raised your head.  Even just moving that little made your head pound.
He poked his head out of the doorway, his long hair pulled back in a bun.  “For your bath?  Do you want epsom salt?”
“My bath?  What the hell are you talking about?” You asked as the microwave beeped.
Bucky leaned against the doorframe.  “The bath that I’m currently running you.  Do.  You.  Want.  Epsom.  Salts?”
There was a long pause as the two of you stared at each other.  “Yeah,” you said finally, your voice coming out a lot smaller than you expected.  “That would be nice.”
Once he’d disappeared back into the bathroom, you pulled out your phone and texted Nat.
To: Tasha
Why is Barnes acting weird?
From: Tasha
Which one of you?
Get it?
Cause you’re married?
To: Tasha
Yeah
I got it.
But he’s being fucking weird.
From: Tasha
How so?
To: Tasha
He made me dinner?  At least, he poured vegetable soup from a can into a bowl and left it in the microwave.
Oh
And he’s running me a bath???
V V strange.
If I don’t text you tomorrow
It’s probably because he killed me
From: Tasha
Oh that
To: Tasha
What do you mean
“Oh that”????
NATASHA
ANSWER YOUR PHONE
From: Tasha
Sorry, was talking to Steve
He mentioned you’d been working a lot and how tired you were so I told him he should do something nice.
And I may have told him that you missed your mom’s vegetable soup.
So that probably explains that.
“Hey, it’s ready,” Bucky said as he came into the kitchen.  “I’ve got some towels in the dryer going, so they’ll be all warm when you’re ready to get out.”  He seemed so… laissez-faire about it.  Like you two didn’t fight on a daily basis usually.  He watched as you took a bite of the soup, his blue eyes zeroed in on you.  “Do you like it?” He asked.  “I tried following my ma’s recipe.  Don’t know how well it went.”
You couldn’t help but moan around the spoon as the warm soup went down.  Even reheated, it was amazing.  “This is your mom’s recipe?  It’s amazing.”
His cheeks flushed as he tried to hide a grin.  “Thanks.  I’ve missed her cooking.”
It was silent as you finished up the soup, the only sound being the spoon clanging against the bowl.  It wasn’t until you set your dishes in the sink to wash the next day that he spoke again.
“Oh, I got you this,” he said as he pulled out a box.  “I saw my advisor and he knows that we’re married and he mentioned that we still don’t have rings, so I just went and grabbed a ring from a thrift store.”
It was then that you noticed the simple silver band on his left ring finger, glinting in the low light.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you said as you took the box.  But your breath was stolen from your lungs as you opened it, revealing a gorgeous diamond engagement ring with a matching diamond wedding band.  “It’s…  It’s beautiful…  Thank you…”
“You’re welcome,” he said softly, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Uh, you go ahead and get in the bath.  I’ll bring you the towels when they’re done.”
As you sat in the bath, you couldn’t help but stare at the rings that now resided on your left hand.  They glinted in the low light of the candles that had been placed in various places around the bathroom, most likely lit with Bucky’s lighter from the local smoke shop.
They were absolutely stunning.
Maybe… just maybe… this marriage wouldn’t be as bad as you first thought it would be.
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You glanced over at the table as your phone buzzed, running to it.  Maybe it’s Bucky…
But your hope was dashed as you realized it was Natasha calling you.
You hadn’t realized you’d been crying until a drop of water fell on the screen.  Wiping your eyes, you brought it up to your ear.  “Hey, Tasha!  What’s up?”  You couldn’t help but wince.  You sounded like a fucking real estate agent.  Perfect and peppy and… not you.
“Hey, I just wanted to call and see how you’re doing,” she whispered, as though she was trying to keep someone else from hearing.  “Bucky got the divorce papers today and I figured that meant you did, too.”
Ah, another thing.  He’d been staying at Steve and Natasha’s place since all of you had graduated, and the time had come for the divorce.  He’d gotten all of his things out within two days, except for the hoodie you were currently cocooned in and your wedding rings.
“I know how much you love this place,” he’d said with a wry smile.  “So you can have it in the divorce settlement.”
It had been a joke.  The divorce settlement.  Like you two had actually been in love and things just hadn’t worked out.
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“You aren’t gonna change the Netflix password on me, right?” You asked as you stood in the doorway of Bucky’s room, arms crossed over your chest.  “Because I’m still paying for half of it.”
Buck grinned at you as he taped the last box shut.  “I don’t know…  Might change it up on you.  Have it all to myself.  Then my suggested movies and shows won’t be so fucked up,” he teased.
You rolled your eyes, glaring at him.  But there was no heat behind it.  “We have separate profiles on there, you dumbass.  So if Gossip Girl is on your suggested, that’s your fault.”
The laugh that erupted from his mouth made him throw his head back, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
Seeing Bucky Barnes laugh was one of the Seven Wonders of the World.  It was better than the Great Pyramids of Giza, the Taj Mahal, and the Great Wall of China all rolled into one.
“We’re still gonna have Thursday night movies, right?” You asked, trying to ignore the way your voice cracked.
In the three years since you’d gotten married, Thursday night had become your sort of fake Date Night.  You two would order takeout and watch movies until the both of you passed out of the couch.  You both changed your availability at your jobs to let them know that you couldn’t work Thursdays.  Not even Natasha and Steve were allowed to intrude.  It was just your special night to hang out.
“I’ll bring the food.  Do you want Thai or Mexican?” He asked, his features a little softer.
“I’ll text you what I want,” you said.  Biting your lip, you toyed with the rings on your left hand.  “I guess I should give you these back, huh?”  You started to slip them off, but he stopped you.
“They’re yours,” he said, his hand closing over yours.  His blue eyes shimmered in the light as you swallowed.  “Keep them… as a reminder of your former husband.”  The corner of his mouth twitched, but you couldn’t tell if he was going to smile or frown.
“I’m gonna miss you,” you said, suddenly surging forward to hug him.  “Even though you’re super annoying.”
Bucky laughed as he wrapped his arms around you just as tight.  “I’m gonna miss you, too.”
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“How’s he doing?” You asked as you moved to what had formerly been Bucky’s room.  It was now completely bare, except for a single gum wrapper on the floor.  You sank down against the wall as you stared at it.  Extra wintermint gum.  Because he absolutely hated spearmint.
“About as well as you, I imagine,” she said slowly, choosing her words ever so carefully.  “I don’t know.  He went out for a walk a few minutes ago.  But he locked himself in the guest room for hours after getting the papers.”
You let your head fall back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as you tried to stop another onslaught of tears.  “This is what we wanted,” you said, your voice cracking.
A pause.  You could feel the tension even through the phone, a can of worms Natasha was about to open.  “Is it?  Is this what you wanted?”
“This was always the plan!” You retorted, the tears coming in a wave now.  “We’d stay married until after we graduated and then we’d divorce.  No drama, no court, no lawyers.  Just a means to an end.”
You could hear her whispering to someone that you knew was Steve on the other end for a few seconds, the sound muffled.  She’d probably covered the speaker.  “Do you want me to come over?” She finally asked.
“No,” you said with a sigh, rubbing the hell of your palm against your eyes.  “I just wanna… curl up in bed and watch cheesy movies and never come out.”
You didn’t understand.  Why did this hurt so bad?  He was just a friend.  You two had never even kissed, for crying out loud.  This wasn’t some fanfiction where you two fell into bed one drunken night and then woke up with feelings.  This wasn’t an ‘Oh no, there’s only one bed’ type of deal with 100K+ words on AO3.  You two were just friends.  Really.  There was no happy ending for the two of you waiting.
“Are you still gonna go to the Barnes’s Fourth of July party?” Natasha asked, her voice softer.
You pulled your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on your knee caps.  “There’s no point.  We’re not married anymore.”
“Sweetheart,” she chided.  “You know he’d want you there.  So would his family.  You’re still a Barnes, even if you change your last name back.”
“I don’t know,” you said, chewing on your bottom lip.  “I like the last name Barnes better.  It’s not like I have any connection to my old last name.  Maybe…”  You swallowed.  “Maybe I should keep it.  It costs money to change it back, after all.  It’s on my license now.”
Ah, yes.  Because your license had expired while you were married and you’d had to get a new one.
“You’re a Barnes now and forever, hon,” she teased.  You could hear her smile through the phone.  “And you know Winifred would be pissed as hell if you didn’t go.  You’re her daughter now just as much as Bucky is her son.”
God, the tears came on like a tsunami when you remembered the Barneses.  George, Winifred, Becca, all of them.  Especially Winifred.  Sweet, sweet Winnie that had become your mom in the years since you’d met her.
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“Bucky, I don’t know about this,” you said as you walked up the steps to his place.  Or, rather, his parents’ place.  “I should just go home.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed as he searched for the right key.  “I’m not letting you drive the way back just to spend Christmas alone.”
Truthfully, it was stupid to even suggest.  Your apartment that you shared with him now was over eight hours away, and it was two days before Christmas Eve.
God, how the hell did you end up here?  You’d been planning on spending it alone, just like you had Thanksgiving.
But when Bucky had come back from the break and realized that you hadn’t gone anywhere, it’d prompted him to ask why, which had then resulted in him insisting on you accompanying him to New York City for Christmas with his family.
“What if they don’t like me?” You asked, barely audible.  In truth, you were terrified.  This was your first holiday season that you were away from your parents.  Thanksgiving had been strange, and you had certain it wasn’t going to get any better up until a few weeks ago.
Bucky stopped suddenly, looking at you with big blue eyes.  “Sweetheart, they’re going to adore you,” he said, more sincere than he’d been since the two of you had gotten married.  “How could they not?”
“You didn’t!”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t like me either.  And then we got to know each other.”
He had a point.
You grumbled, staring down at your boots.  They were still covered in snow.
“And besides, Ma hasn’t shut up about meeting you ever since she found out about you,” he muttered as he finally found the right key.  “Dad said she’s been obsessively cleaning the house since she found out you were coming.”
As soon as the opened the door, you were hit with a wall of sound.  A woman with the same shade of hair as Bucky rushed forward, trapping the six foot man in a hug.  “YOU’RE HOME!”
“Winnie, come on, don’t suffocate the boy.”  A man with Bucky’s eyes appeared, his hands shoved in his pockets.  He was trying to appear nonchalant, but the second he was free of his mother’s grasp, he was dragging him into another hug.  “I’ve missed you, son.”
“And you must be his wife!” Winifred Barnes said, suddenly turning on you.
“Ma, she has a name.”
“I know that!”
“Winnie–”
You were pulled into a hug, and you were suddenly overwhelmed with feelings.  Maybe it was just the fact that you hadn’t hugged your own mother in so long, or maybe it was just because Winifred was that lovely of a person.  Either way, you were tearing up as she hugged you tightly.  You gave her your name as she pulled back, looking over your face.
“Oh, you’re even prettier than Jamie said!”
Your cheeks flushed as Bucky grumbled out a quiet “Ma…”
It was then that you were swept into the apartment, finding it bustling with people.  You were then introduced to the rest of his family: his younger sister, Becca, who was going to be a senior in high school and was SO grateful to have a new sister, his aunts, his uncles, his parents.  The entire apartment was bursting with people even days before the actual holiday.
It wasn’t until after dinner (which was absolutely delicious) that you were able to capture a quiet moment in the kitchen, helping Winifred wash dishes.
“Thank you for having me over,” you said, to break the silence.  It wasn’t uncomfortable, surprisingly, you just felt like you needed to vocalize your thanks for what was probably the third time.  “It means a lot.”
“Any friend of Jamie’s is a friend of ours,” she said as she rinsed off a plate.  “And we’re so grateful for what you’re doing.  He mentioned that it helps you, too, but…  Our family can’t afford to pay for his housing.  We can barely make his tuition.”  She looked at you with crystal clear eyes that seemed to bore into your soul.  “We’re so happy to have you.”  She then paused, glancing over at the side of the sink, where you’d set your wedding rings just to make sure they didn’t slip off in the water.  “You know, I was so happy when he asked for my ring.  He’s always dreamed of giving it to a girl.”
“What?” You asked, looking at her in shock.
Winifred paused, her brows furrowed in a way that really reminded you of your husband.  “Did he not tell you?  The engagement ring is mine.  But he saved up over the summer to buy a matching band for it.”
Your heart raced in your chest as you stared at the rings.  Bucky had gotten his ma’s ring for you?  But… why?  You two were barely friends at this point.
“I would’ve been spending Christmas alone if it wasn’t for him inviting me,” you said, breaking her stare to look down at your soapy hands.  “He found out I spent Thanksgiving at home and almost shit a brick.”  You rushed to cover your mouth, to apologize, but she just snorted.
An easy smile tugged at her lips.  “Holidays are a big thing for our family, and I guess we passed that down to Jamie.  Everyone comes to town for about a week and we spend it drinking and shooting the shit, baking.  We can’t afford much, so our gifts are usually just spending time together,” she said.
“It sounds nice,” you whispered as you scrubbed absentmindedly at a pan.  “My family… even when I still talked to them, we were never big on holidays.”  Winifred had gone quiet beside you.  “It was always just us.  We’d eat dinner together and sometimes I’d get a present, but mostly it was just spent like any other day.”
She took a deep breath, setting a plate on the drying rack.  “What… happened?  If you don’t mind me asking?”
“I… confronted my parents about the sexual abuse I went through as a kid,” you said slowly, swallowing around the lump that had suddenly formed in your throat.  “My cousin…  He, uh…  He’s only a year and a half older than me.  From the time I was… four or five, I think, to about twelve, he would… you know.”  The kitchen felt deadly silent, and you were so glad that the rest of the Barnses, including Bucky, were in the living room.  Even though he knew the basics of what had happened, you never told him details.  “And my parents would punish me for it when he got caught.  They blamed me.  They’d ground me or spank me or… whatever.”  You let out a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood.  “They didn’t really take it well.  It doesn’t matter though.  I’m fine.”
You were shocked when you were suddenly pulled into a tight hug.  Winifred’s arms formed a cocoon around you and you could feel her tears on your face.  She was only an inch or two taller than you.  “That was not your fault,” she gasped out, holding you to her.  “That was not your fault.”
Before you realized what was happening, you were clutching onto her as hot tears streamed down your cheeks.
You didn’t know how long she’d held you before she leaned back, wiping away your tears.  Or at least, trying to before they were replaced with more.  “You are not what he did to you, you hear me?” She asked, wiping at her own face.  “You are always welcome here.  We’re your family now.”
“What’s going on here?”
The both of you turned to see Bucky in the doorway, his sea blue eyes wide.  He was holding a few extra plates that had been left behind.
“Nothing,” she said with a watery grin.  “Just… talking.”
“Here,” he said as he walked over and put the dishes inside the sink filled with soapy water.  “I’ll finish up with my wifey here, and you go clean up before dad freaks out because you’re crying.”
She barked out a laugh, nodding.  “Fine.  Fine.  You know how he gets if I’m upset,” she said, kissing your forehead before leaving.
“So… You actually okay?” Bucky asked as he took over rinsing the dishes you washed.
The smile that found its way onto your lips was real, surprisingly, as you said, “Everything’s great, Jamie.”
And even though he let out a groan, he was smiling, too.
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It was after that trip that you’d started calling him Jamie.  It just… felt better rolling off your tongue than Bucky ever did.  It was also when holidays in Brooklyn became a permanent thing.  Anytime Bucky went home, so did you.
They were your family.
But now…  Now what?  Did you lose them like you lost your parents?
Granted, losing your parents wasn’t exactly the worst thing.
“Sweetheart?  You there?” Natasha asked, bringing you back to the present.
“Yeah,” you said, shaking your head to clear out the cloudiness of your memories.  “Yeah, I’m–”  You broke off as you heard a knock at the door, a frown tugging at your lips.  “Hold on, Tasha, I’ll call you back…”  You hung onto your phone as you walked to the front door, peeking through the peephole.
Bucky?...  What the fuck was he doing here?
You opened the door wide, shocked to find him crying.  His eyes were puffy and red, his nose running.  “Jamie?  What’s wrong?”  You reached forward to touch his shoulder, shoving your phone in your back pocket.
“Don’t sign those papers.”
“Wait…  What?”  Now you were even more confused.  Your brows furrowed as you pushed his hair back from his face.  God, he needed a haircut.  Maybe you could…  No.  Not the focus right now.
He stepped toward, half inside the apartment that had been his, too, just two weeks before.  His large, calloused hand caressed your face.  “I don’t want to not be your husband,” he said, his voice cracking.
Your heart thundered inside your chest and you were half sure this was some kind of trick of your mind to soothe its aching.  “What do you mean?”
“I want to make this work,” he said as he cupped your face in his hands.  “I… I want to actually have Thursday night Date Nights and take you out and when we go home for the holidays, I want to kiss you under the mistletoe my ma always hangs up, and I want you to wear my ma’s ring.  I want to be your husband.  Please.”
You didn’t realize you were crying–yet again, fucking damn it–until he wiped them away.  “I don’t want to not be your wife, either,” you said, your voice shaking.  “I love you, I love you so much.”
His lips met yours in a blazing kiss, holding you closer than you thought possible.  “I love you more,” he whispered against your lips.  “I’m never letting you go.”
You dragged him inside, shutting the door before kissing him again.  “You’re staying here.  None of this bullshit of you staying with Tasha and Steve.”
“Gladly,” he chuckled, holding onto your waist.  “But only if I get to sleep in your bed.”
“Only if we can shred those divorce papers.”
The moment was interrupted by his phone ringing, and you couldn’t help but giggle when you saw it was Winifred.  He shot you an apologetic look as he answered it.  “Hey, ma.”
She was speaking so loudly you could hear her clearly.  “Well?!  How did it go?!  Did you ask her?!”
“Yes, I asked her,” he said slowly, squeezing your side.  “She said yes.  I’m with her now.”
Both of you flinched away as she screamed in excitement.  “GIVE HER THE PHONE!  GIVE HER THE PHONE!”
You smiled as you pressed it to your ear.  “Hi, mom.”
“BABY!  I’M SO HAPPY!  NOW WE CAN HAVE A REAL WEDDING!”  She was speaking at a hundred miles an hour.  “Do you want a summer or fall wedding?  I think it might be too late to do summer, but I’m sure we could scrounge something together!”
You giggled as Bucky stole kisses from you while she was speaking, distracting you.
“Sweetheart?  You there?”
“A late summer wedding sounds perfect,” you said, unable to wipe the grin from your face.  “Absolutely perfect.”
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itsbuckysworld · 5 years
Text
Save a Dance for Me
Royalty!AU
Prince!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader. 
Summary: Spring is meant for festivals, dances, yummy food, love, and Bucky Barnes.... also have you ever seen the garden scene in Princess Diaries 2, where Mia kisses Nicholas for the first time???... that.
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Written for @sunmoonandbucky​, surprise Hann! I’m your secret santa in @bucky-smiles​‘s CMMSecretSanta! 
I’d like to apologise for taking so long. I had an idea for this about two weeks ago and started writing it then things kept changing and I kept thinking I didn’t like it or wouldn’t have that idea ready and then, three different attempts at different Royalty AU plots, this came and I wrote it all in one sitting. so this is not properly proof-read
it’s 2.4K words long. Sowwyyy. 
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gifs not mine – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
“Shit, shit” you kept muttering under your breath, pushing aside bushes and getting scratches from branches all over your arms. Your gown would have two very ugly marks on your knees from all the time you’ve spent on your knees in this garden.
It was your kingdom’s Spring Festival, a celebration that was held every year on the first day of the spring. You had forgotten specifically why there was such a celebration, but that wasn’t what mattered to you. The Spring Festival meant people from all around were invited and you got to see your friends and have fun around the castle grounds. The gardens decorated beautifully with fairy lights and trees bloomed with flowers and ripe fruit. There was always music and the celebrations lasted up to three days, so when it came to seeing your friends and family, it was like hosting a lovely sleepover. It was one of your favorite activities.
Yet, at the moment, you weren’t having the most enjoyable time.
Against her better judgment, your mother had let you borrow a brooch from her collection of heirlooms, asking you time and time again to be careful with it, that she’s had it since she was 20 years old and it would be yours when you were the same age as well, but for now, you had to wait five more years. It was your favorite of hers. Shaped like a firefly with a gorgeous topaz on each wing. You begged her to let you borrow it for just this occasion. After all, it went beautifully with your dress. The hints of blue bellflowers at the hem and detailed around the chest made you look like a delicate walking garden, and you had been excited for weeks for the moment to wear the whole outfit when she agreed, only to have it all ruined during a calm-horse-ride-gone-wrong.
Your friend’s horse had taken off running at one moment, and while it made a hilarious story to look back on and tell, you had lost the damn piece somewhere in the bushes. You refused to tell your mother and ruin her day, so you just kept looking. She already disapproved of you going off riding with your friends alone, this would only give her more ammunition.
You huffed again, blowing a strand of hair out of your face and slamming your hand down on the grass. This can’t be happening.
A figure stood over you, casting a shadow over your frame, and you looked up as they cleared their throat. Your eyes adjusted until you could make out the silhouette. It was a man, and the more you looked the more his features became clear.
Shit, it was James fucking Barnes.
You rolled your eyes at him, preferring to stare at your dirty hands than his all-knowing grin. Damn the dirt is going to be hard to get from under your nails.
Prince James was the youngest son of one of your father’s best friends, from a kingdom not so far away. You had basically grown up together, but to say you were friends? You wouldn’t go that far. He was a few years older than you, approaching 19 when you had just hit 15, and when you were younger he always pulled at your ponytails and messed with you when playing hide and seek. To say the least you didn’t exactly like him. You thought you’d be alone, everyone off enjoying the music and food at the tents closer to the castle, which you were not going to step foot into until you found that damned topaz firefly.
He cleared his throat again and reached out his hand to put in front of your face. You expected him to mock you in some way, maybe poke and pinch your cheeks like he used to do when you were 6, but when you opened your eyes, you were met with the precious jewel you had been searching for most of the afternoon. A gasp escaped your chest and you almost gave yourself whiplash standing up so fast. You stumbled and he had to hold your waist to keep you from smacking into him.
You grabbed his hand in both of yours, looking at the piece, examining it over and over, if anything just to make sure you weren’t dreaming that the jewel was okay.
“Wh- Where did you find it?” you asked him, a hand now placed on his chest. Bucky chuckled.
“It was over by the fountain. You’re lucky I like to hide from my aunt there” he joked, releasing his hand from your grasp to pin it back to your dress. When it was back where it belonged for the day, Bucky let himself admire it, putting that stray strand of hair behind your ear. It was then you noticed that you were standing close. Too close.
Clearing your throat you took several steps back. Your hands rushing down your dress to dust it off. Not too bad stains, nothing you couldn’t attribute to the horse ride.
“Uh, t-thanks, James” this made him roll his eyes at you.
“Bucky, just call me Bucky –” he reached behind you and pulled your dress away from a bush, some branch having caught on snugly. He was careful not to rip it, and you were thankful that he hadn’t seemed to grasp how embarrassing this whole situation was for you. He did, after all, find you dirty and on your knees, about to cry like a little girl over a firefly – to early-teens Bucky, that would have been a mockery gold mine. – “And it’s no problem”
He extended his hand towards the party, motioning for the two of you to get on your way.
“What, you’re done hiding from your aunt?” this made him laugh, and for a moment it made you find it amusing. When was the last time you had heard Bucky laugh – not at you – it had been too long. You shook those thoughts away.
“I’ll never be done with that. I’m just hungry”
The two of you approached the table with all sorts of finger food and began picking and poking, casual conversation arising between the two of you. Your cheeks hurt from laughing and Bucky’s hand kept somehow finding ways to pull you closer as you moved around the space, never letting you veer too far. You didn’t mind it.
The band inside the hall began playing one of your favorite songs, and you thankfully caught yourself before you asked Bucky for a dance. He began reaching a hand towards you when the doors opened as a group of people exited the hall, music spilling out from inside the poshly decorated room. In the group stood Bucky’s aunt. She was a very snobby duchess and the moment he spotted her, he downed the rest of his sandwich and ducked down. You almost dropped your glass in laughter.
“I was never here,” He said, starting to basically crawl away.
“Hmmm, it would be fun to rat you out, though...” Bucky gave you a fake glare and pointed to the brooch on your chest. Taking the hint, you put your hands up in surrender. It would be your secret.
Making his way to the garden, he turned and called for you. “Save me a dance, princess” were his last words before he disappeared behind the bush maze with a wink.
You didn’t see much of Bucky after that. Between his hiding from his aunt and you having to be the host alongside your parents, the festivities had come to an end and there hadn’t been a moment for the two of you to retake your conversation or have that dance. Soon all of your guests had returned home, he included. The only remnants of those moments your memories and a small letter you found in your dresser the morning after everyone had gone home. It was a note from him addressed to you, that you better save him that dance for next year’s Spring Festival.
No one would ever know you kept that note safe in one of your drawers.
– – – – – – – – – –
Years passed, and escaping to the bush maze in your garden while downing sandwiches, saving dances and making jokes became yours and Bucky’s thing every single Spring Festival. While your own agendas didn’t allow you to dance more than a handful of times or for more than one song, you made sure to make space for a little stroll and a chat at some point during the event.
Now, 8 years later, it was time for the Spring Festival once more. Bucky kept fidgeting and twiddling his thumbs as the two of you walked through the gardens. He had arrived the day before and you hadn’t seen much of him, but the moment the event officially started, he had rushed across the yard towards you and hooked his arms with yours. His hair was longer, and pushed back, almost reaching the nape of his neck. You liked this look on him, and when you told him, you noticed his cheeks turn just a tad red.
Had anyone told you that you’d be sharing moments like these with James Buchanan Barnes, you would have laughed in their face, but now? It took you a while to admit, but he started to become your favorite thing about the Spring Festival. You didn’t remember why celebrating this was a tradition in your kingdom originally, but Bucky made you never want to quit it.
When you reached the center of the maze, your mind took you back to that day he had found the brooch you had lost and found you right there, desperate. The day that started it all.
He was to choose a bride soon, and for the last few years, you had avoided the topic per his request. Whenever you tried to even joke about it, he immediately shut it down with some other thing. You had no idea why, but the more time passed, the less you wanted to talk about it either.
Truth be told, you didn’t want to even imagine the moment he would choose someone to marry. Were these lovely afternoons going to end? Would he stop sending you letters every once in a while to pass the time between each spring, recounting whatever nonsense he was up to? What would be of the two of you?
Would you be able to withstand not being the one he marries?
You didn’t want to think about it too much, but with the date fast approaching when he was supposed to at least choose a bride, it was the first thing on your mind, and as usual, you guys didn’t talk about that topic.
Your mind began to wander, and you hadn’t realized that Bucky had stopped in his tracks, hands now hidden deep in his pockets and he swayed on the balls of his feet nervously.
“Hey” he lightly tapped your elbow, catching your attention and putting it back on him. It was hard not to fix your gaze on his bright blue irises, no amount of time spent with him would prepare you to not get lost in them. Not when you liked to do so. You gave him a soft smile, ridding your head of the thoughts.
Bucky cleared his throat, shuffling his feet. He couldn’t help but look at you. Take you in. He stood there in silence
“What?” you giggled, and he shook his head adorably, a few strands of his chocolate hair coming loose, and he pushed them back, the motion making your stomach fill with fireflies.
“Nothing, I… I just…–” he sighed – “Hey so, you know how I am to… choose uh– I” you nodded, placing a hand on his elbow to make him stop. Not only because he couldn’t properly say it, but because you didn’t know if you wanted to hear it.
The wind picked up, carrying with it the smell of flowers and warmth. A hint of your perfume hit Bucky’s senses and he was immediately at ease.
“So, uhm, I wanted to ask you” he kept staring at his shoes as he pulled out a small box from his pocket.
You took a step back in surprise, eyes widening at the sight. Was he-? There’s no way he was proposing to you. Choosing you. Was it too soon? Or perhaps long overdue. You didn’t know what to feel. You had never expected him to choose you, let alone like this. It was a big jump– he interrupted your thoughts, knowing you were spiraling things out of proportion.
“No, wait. I’m not going to ask you to marry me, wait” Bucky’s nerves represented themselves in laughter, as he reached over, trying to get you back as close to him as he could. He could do this, so long as you were close, always close to him.
“Bucky” your voice was barely a whisper, and he just loved the way his nickname sounded coming from your lips. You, who only called him James with that annoyed tint until a few years ago.
He opened the little box and your jaw dropped at the reveal of the gorgeous piece. A small brooch in the shape of a bellflower, with topaz petals, sat in the velvet square. An homage to the topaz firefly that started it all. It shone in the sun, greeting you, but Bucky’s smile was brighter, and quite frankly you loved it even more. He took a deep breath.
“I wanted to ask if�� If you’d give us a chance. And then maybe, if that’s okay with you, I would– I mean, I want to marry you– Not like that, n-not right now, now, but” You giggled. He was turning into a stammering fool, but he was your stammering fool and nothing would make you happier than giving the two of you a chance.
Your hands found their home on his neck, instinct taking over rational mind, and you were kissing him, rendering him speechless and melting into your touch. For a brief moment he had forgotten where he was, but wherever that may be, he wanted to settle in. Blame it on the warm breeze, or the scent of the flowers, but Bucky had never felt more in love.
“Sorry” you pulled back in a hurry, realizing what you had just done. Shaky fingers touched your lips, where you could still feel him. “Was that too soon?” his hands pulled you closer, wrapping around your back tighter and tighter until you were flush against his chest. This close. He wanted you this close.
“I’d say about eight years late” and then he was melting his lips with yours once more. The band inside the large hall played that song you loved and he couldn’t help but sway you slightly in the embrace.
There’s that dance he wanted you to save for him.
– – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – –
Thanks for reading, hope you liked it! I know this was insanely long. And the other ideas I had for Royalty!AU’s I’m putting in the drawer to revisit at some other time, so if I ever get to work on them more, there might be more royalty au’s coming your way! If that’s something anyone would want of course. 
Please drop any and every feedback my way! My inbox is wide open 24/7 Happy 2020!
Love, L. 
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delicatelyherdreams · 5 years
Text
*shudder* Finals
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: Finals have got you a little stressed and with stress comes strain and forgetting to satisfy your basic needs. [University AU]
Warnings: Language
Word Count: 1651
A/N: This is for @peaky-shelby​ as a part of the lovely @bucky-smiles​‘s Secret Santa! A little birdy told me that you loved the Univeristy AU and I figured that nothing screams “UNIVERSITY” quite like finals. I hope you like this and I’m sorry if it’s not everything you were hoping for. Merry Christmas!! 
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You hated pulling all-nighters and you hated being tired. 
Unfortunately, you’d had to pull an all-nighter the night before and you were exhausted. A lone cup of coffee sat on the table beside you, just one of the many you’d already consumed—and it wasn’t even 10:00 yet. 
But this was finals.
And you had
so
much
studying to do.
There were statistics and there was literature. There was physics and there was psychology. And then there was more. So many classes to study for and write papers for and prepare for and not nearly enough time for it all. 
To say you were stressed would have been a gross understatement.
You hunched over your psychology textbook, trying to hammer the difference between “catalepsy” and “cataplexy” into your mind, but it just wouldn’t go. No matter how many times you read the definition or used the mnemonic devices your teacher had suggested, you still couldn’t get these and other terms down into your mind. The words wouldn’t stop swimming, getting mixed up and tangled with numbers and formulas from math and other definitions for other classes. Reading this textbook was simply like dumping a glass of water into a swimming pool: utterly pointless.
The groan that escaped your mouth was purely animalistic and you shoved your book away before grabbing your coffee and slamming it back.
A soft chuckle was heard behind you and you didn’t have to look over your shoulder to see who it was. You would know that sweet-as-honey and warm-as-a-fireplace voice anywhere. 
“I thought I’d find you here.” You could hear the smile in his voice.
You weren’t smiling back. You were too stressed to smile. “I’m always here, Steve.”
“I know you are.” He pulled the chair next to you back and slid in. Instantly the air around you lightened with his presence. 
You felt a small weight lifting from your shoulders, though it was quite minuscule and hardly made a difference. His presence was odd. “What are you doing here, Steve?”
“I came to see you. You’ve been studying nonstop for weeks. I wanted to check up on my girlfriend.”
“Your girlfriend is fine. She just needs to finish these finals.” You tore your gaze away from him and turned back to the notebook before you. 
“She needs a break,” he murmured, reaching over and placing his hand on your upper arm. “You’ve been studying nonstop for like the last week and it’s not healthy.” 
“What’s not healthy is how unprepared for this I am.” Your head was swimming with numbers, vocab words, and important ideas and topics but you were still so out of it. “I’ve covered maybe half of my classes, and I still have two final papers to finish writing. I mean, I’m halfway done with one of them, but I don’t even have my thesis statement for the other.” Your head was heavy. 
His hand found a home on your back and he began to rub small circles. “It’s okay. You’re going to be fine, I promise. But for right now, I think you need a break. You’re going to end up crashing and burning if you continue at this rate.”
“No, I’m going to fail if I don’t study. Please, Steve, just let me do this.”
He shook his head. “I won’t. You’re running yourself into the ground and it’s not healthy. You’re taking a break and going to brunch with me.”
“No, Steve. I’m not. I’m staying here with my books and I’m studying.”
He went quiet for a bit, those darling blue eyes of his growing dark and ponderous. He was devising a plan, you could see it building up behind his eyes.
You frowned. “Steve? What are you planning?”
“Nothing. I… I’ll be back.” He stood up, leaned over, and pressed his lips to the top of your head. Then he was gone. 
You were left alone once more, silence overtaking you. Suddenly, it was very lonely. Steve was gone and you were on your own with books as your only companion. But you didn’t have time to focus on the silence. You had studying to do.
You got lost in the words on the page. The words committed themselves to memory after a while, their meaning being branded on your brain. You had this, you realized. You could do it. You were memorizing these and—
*Splat.*
Your concentration was broken with a heavy thud as something crashed onto your textbook. It was a plastic bag, just one of several that had made their home on your desk. 
You jumped back, your chair creaking loudly as you fell, and your head snapped up to the source of your disruption. “Steve! What the fuck?”
He didn’t even flinch at your shout. His cheeks were rosy from the cold outside and he still held a bag or two. He moved with a purpose as he set them down. His shoulders simply shrugged. “I got us food. You need to eat, and if you won’t go out with me to get food, then I’ve got to bring the food here. Simple.” He unloaded the bag that was sitting squarely on your textbook, pulling out foam to-go containers. “I’ve got hashbrowns in this one, pancakes in this one. I’m pretty sure there’s some French toast here, but I could be wrong. I don’t know what all they gave me, I just ordered the biggest meals they had and brought it here so you could have options.”
“Steve, you’re gonna get grease all over my books!” You quickly shoved the bag off the precious textbook, fit in a pencil between the pages and closed it. “Are you crazy?”
He snorted. “Like you even have to ask.” He pulled out the chair next to you and slid a container over to you. “Now, eat. I didn’t buy all this food just so it could go cold.”
“I didn’t ask you to buy all this.”
“I know, but I need you to eat something. You’ve been holed up here for days and it’s not good. Now, if you don’t eat willingly…” He reached into the bag closest to him, pulled out a fork, opened a container holding some French toast, stabbed a piece, and held it up. “I’m going to feed you. You can’t study if you don’t have your strength and you don’t have your strength if you don’t eat.”
You rolled your eyes. “This is stupid. Just let me get back to work.” 
“No.” He moved the fork closer to your lips. “Now either take the fork or say ‘ah.’”
You cocked an eyebrow. 
“I’m not kidding, (y/n). You’ve got to take care of yourself and if you’re incapable of it, I will do it for you.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m your boyfriend and I love you and I want you to be happy and healthy. I can’t help with the happy part until after finals, but I can do my best to satisfy the healthy part. Okay? Just do me this one thing and eat and then I promise I’ll leave you alone. Well, I’ll leave you alone until next mealtime, that is.” He spared you a small smile as he motioned with the fork again. “Please?”
You wanted to refuse him, to tell him to leave you be so you could get done with this, but a grumbling in your stomach stopped you. You had to admit that the food did look really good and, although you really needed to get this done, you did need to eat. Maybe a small break wouldn’t kill you. Swallowing thickly, you leaned forward and took the bite from the fork. 
Once you started eating, you couldn’t stop. You let Steve feed you until you were full and satisfied, leaning back in your chair with a lazy smile on your face and listening to Steve talk absently.
“...and then I said, ‘I can’t do it, man. I’ve gotta survive until next year at the very least.’” 
You’d lost track of what he was saying long ago, simply opting to just listen to him as you reveled in your mental break. You didn’t even notice him stop talking until he called your name. “Hm?” You turned your head to look at him.
He had a small smile on his face. “You feeling better yet?”
“Yeah… Much better.” You weren’t lying as you smiled softly at him. “Thank you, Steve.”
“Hey, don’t mention it. I only did what any good boyfriend would do.” He sat up in the chair and turned to you opening his arms wide. “Now, come here.”
You didn’t hesitate to fall into his embrace, nuzzling your face into his chest and inhaling his scent. He smelled really freaking good.
His hand found the back of your head as he pet your hair, humming as he did. “You’re doing amazing, I hope you now that. And don’t worry, finals are almost done and when they are, we can do nothing but relax for a week.”
You hummed through the face full of sweater. “You promise?”
“I promise. Now, I’ll get out of your way so you can finish studying.” He pulled away from you, untangling your limbs and standing up. He grabbed his coat from the chair and started to leave you.
“Wait!”
He paused and turned, his face inquisitive. 
You stared at him, your eyes pleading. “Will you come back for dinner?”
“Do you want me to?”
You nodded shyly.
“Then I will.” He smiled softly.
A small weight lifted off your chest and you let out a breath. “Bring some dumplings for me? We can do Chinese from that place you like.”
“Of course.” He shrugged on his jacket and smiled at you. “I’ll be back around five. Study your little heart out and I’ll see you then. Just don’t kill yourself with stress.”
You chuckled and nodded. “Aye aye, Captain.”
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the-omni-princess · 5 years
Text
Guarded Crown
Author: @the-omni-princess​
Summary: Your knight tries to protect you
Word Count: 722
Pairing: Knight!Bucky x Princess!reader
Warnings: injuries, blood, implied deaths, assassins, angst, fluff
A/N:
Surprise! I’m your Secret Santa!!! @mattaretto​ lol I read royalty au was your favorite and I looked at my series Frozen Heart then looked back at you and went “bet.” Pretty short but still hope you enjoy!!!
@bucky-smiles​
#cmmsecretsanta
-
[Masterlist]
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Running. That’s what you were currently doing. Okay, well, it was more like being dragged, but hey, as long as you were far away from the assassins currently gaining on you, you weren’t going to complain much… much.
A foot in front of you, James tugged you along, yanking you over a fallen tree. “Ow!” you cried out indigenously, glaring at him as the end of your dress tore on a branch.
“Shut your mouth, and keep running,” he growled in response, not caring about how he just ruined your very expensive dress. Usually, you and James got along well, but he was currently very angry and had little to no patience. His chainmail and metal armor were too heavy, his sword was hanging like a stone against his waist, and he was stuck pulling you through the woodlands towards the castle. There would be back up there, an entire legion of guards, but for now, he was stuck with you. Complaining about running barefoot through the woods in a ball gown.
“Well excuse me! Sorry, I’m not used to running in the woods in a dress with no weapons!” You cried out, pulling the edges of your dress up as you fan faster. The assassins that overtook your carriage were starting to gain on you, an arrow whizzing a foot away from your body. You screeched, shaking as you followed James.
Just in sight was the castle, guards lining at the walls, ready for you. “Come on, we’re almost there, Princess,” Bucky huffed, desperation laced into his voice.
Almost there, you pushed yourself, so close to your goal. Your knight glanced behind him, tugging you in front of him as the arrows started landing in the ground closer to where your feet were on the ground. Hands pushed a dagger into your hands, “Don’t stop running,” He begged near your ear, shoving you forward as you run.
The hands around your fingers disappeared, and you gripped the dagger, confused. “Bucky?” you chanced a glance behind you slowing down to see your knight had stopped a few feet behind you. Sword up, facing the assassins about to overtake you. An arrow already stuck in a gap in his armor, blood dyeing the iron deep crimson.
“Go! I’ll hold them off!” He pleaded, locking eyes with you, silently imploring you to keep going, the castle so close.
“You’ll die!” your eyes watered, hands trembling as the surrounding guards of the tower started to run towards you.
“That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. Go, dollface, I’ll be fine. Save yourself,” ice blue eyes turned, ready to face the massacre.
Hands of iron pulled you away from him, waves of arrows growing closer, Steve’s voice in your ear as he tugged you back to the castle, to safety. “No! Not without you! Bucky!” You tried to shake off your guards, but they were too strong, taking you to the security of the stone walls. The last sight of him being his sword raised, blood dripping from his silver second skin.
-
It had been hours, and no one would tell you what had happened to Bucky. All they said was the assassins were terminated, but not what you lost because of it. You paced the halls, unable to go far, only knowing some of the knights and king’s guards were in the infirmary wing. Unable to take it any more you pushed your way to the infirmary, squeezing past the newer page, Peter.
Thanking the gods, you saw him. Laying in bed, covered in bandages, but alive and talking none the less. Not caring about the company, you rushed towards him, latching yourself onto him, hugging him tightly as you cried. “You stupid knight, you could have died!” you were shaking in his arms, the terror of almost losing him slowly leaving you.
He gripped onto you weakly, smiling faintly as he held you, “Well I didn’t, Princess.”
You pulled away, and he gently wiped your tears away, “But you could have. I can’t lose you, Bucky,” you murmured, voice wrecked by tears.
“You don’t have too, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he smiled warmly, gently holding onto you, just as relieved that you were okay.
“Good,” you whispered, burying yourself back into his arms, refusing to remove yourself from your knight.
--
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Bucky Tags:
@cassandras-musings​  / @darkness-doughter​ / @novaddictx​​ / @thedancingnerdmermaid​ / @mood-pancakes​ / @gracethegeek9902​ / @ravennightingaleandavatempus​ / @sunkissedbarnes​ (i know you tagged me in your blog name change but i cant find it) / @annavega333​ / @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​
For a tag, just reply/comment, if I don’t see it, just message me. Tell me what you think! Literally, any comment makes me happy! Like, comment, reblog, interact <3
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searchingforbucky · 5 years
Text
The Research Paper ✎
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Chapter: The Final Stretch
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: I think theres one curse word, procrastination, panicking, crying, cute Bucky, getting distracted.
A/N: Wow, heres the second chapter of my secret Santa fic! This started as just a fun little story to write, and now its turned into a multi chapter story that I'm having a great time writing, and people are actually liking it? Amazing! This chapter may be a little choppy because of the small time jumps, but I hope its not too bad. Also, I feel like there may not be enough Bucky, if you want more, please let me know! :) thank you all again for reading and sharing your thoughts, I love you all 💖
Series Masterlist
On the first night they met, they set up the details and Y/N gave Bucky the rundown on the assignment. In two weeks, the Friday night before finals week, she has to have a 20 page research paper finished and turned in. It was supposed to be focused on World War 2, she decided to focus on the effects that World War 2 had on the economy and workforce, absolutely the most boring topic she could have chosen. But when you’re faced with a deadline speeding at you full force, you panic and make bad decisions.
After airing all of the unfortunate details of this huge project she’s throwing onto him, he stares at her. He’s got this zoned out look to him, and she’s worried he either wasn’t paying attention, or is thinking of all the ways he can kill Steve for asking this of him.
Suddenly, he gets up. Looks around, and walks away.
‘Oh my god’ y/n thinks to herself. ‘He’s really just up and left. Of course he wouldn’t want to help me with this. I mean, I’m asking for 8 hours of his week, he’s not getting paid, he'd have to help me with a basically impossible task, he'd even have to be spend time with me. God now I have no idea what I’m going to do, I’m gonna fail, and flunk out of college, and have to move home with my parents, and live there forever, and end up dying alo-‘
Her spiraling thoughts were interrupted by Bucky coming back with an overwhelmingly large stack of books. He slams them on the table and gives her a proud smile, unaware of her internal meltdown just seconds before.
“Okay, so here are some books that I know will help us with this. This one is about the rise of Market Competition since World War Two, this one is about the globalization of the world economy, this one is about…”
As Bucky continues to talk about all of his findings she can’t help but to focus on him and not his words. She notices how excited he gets when talking about history, how much knowledge he holds not only about these books themselves but the general subject as a whole. And don’t even get her started about how well he must know the library to know exactly where to go. She focuses in on the sparkle in his eyes, the way the lines coming from the corners only grow as he continues to smile about what he knows. Her eyes move down his smile, the way his pink lips perfectly frame his perfect teeth, lips that look so-
“Does that sound okay?” Bucky asks her, looking at her and waiting for an answer.
The pause in him talking and the feel of his stare pulls him out of her wandering thoughts. It quickly runs through her mind that she really needs to get her brain together and focus more, this is the second time she’s done this in like 10 minutes. And then she realizes she has no idea what he just told her.
“I’m sorry can you repeat that?” She inquired, hoping with all of her might that he doesn’t think she’s past the point of helping.
“I was asking if you’d be able to read at least a skim some of these before we meet tomorrow? Just so you can have a small foundation before we get into the fine details of the books later.” He repeats himself.
“Of course, thank you again James. I can’t even begin to explain how much you are saving me. Really, I wouldn’t even know where to start if it wasn’t for your help.” She tells him genuinely, picking up the books, and putting some in her bag.
“Please, call me Bucky. And it’s no problem. Any time I get to talk about history and have people actually listen is a good time to me.” He reassures her gently.
“Bucky,” she says the name and smiles “I like that. Thank you again, I’ll see you tomorrow night. I’ll read as much of these as I can.”
As she walks away, she peeks one last look over her shoulder at Bucky, both giving each other shy smiles.
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After one official meeting, their relationship entered a new stage. Under the pretense of “if you have any questions during the times we’re not together, go ahead and text me..” they exchanged numbers. Bucky's heart was racing for about an hour after he asked successfully without stuttering. Steve would be so proud.
She would text him when she was on her way, or ask if he wanted anything extra from the coffee shop, saying that just a black coffee is gross and he MUST have something to counterbalance the dirt. He would ask her to text when she got home safely, worrying about her walking home in the dark. It was nice. It was becoming a routine neither want to end.
Then, after two more meetings, worried about her progress, and only having about a week left, he suggests meeting every day. Not at the same set times, just whenever they can, in order to make sure she gets the best grade possible. Which is what he convinces himself is why he asks, it’s not that he wants to see her more. Absolutely not. Well… maybe just a little.
The first day of their new schedule they meet at a different time. They both have a break in their classes and work, and they decide to meet in the quad. It’s a nice day out, and according to her, she won’t be able to spend every day in the library without feeling restless.
While waiting at an empty bench, Bucky sees Y/N walk across the lawn. She’s practically being haloed by the sun, Bucky thinks it’s cliche to say she looks kind of ethereal…but it’s not a wrong statement. And he looks a bit further down to see surprisingly that in her hand she carries two bags of food. When she finally reaches him and sets one down in front of him, he thinks he might have fallen in love right then and there.
With that bag of food, a new tradition is created for the next week. Every day, at whatever time of day they can, when they meet, one of them brings food. They both try to convince themselves it strictly a study date, and they both try not to focus too hard on the word “date”.
The fastest way to the heart is through the stomach they say.
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It’s 3 days before the paper is due, and Y/N is losing concentration, motivation, and most importantly the ability to not be distracted by the enigma that is Bucky Barnes.
They’re in the library, books sprawled out in front of them. Y/N is typing, while Bucky looks over her notes, making sure what she’s saying is accurate. They sit in a comfortable silence until...
“Alright, I’m done for the night, my ability to withhold anymore information is gone.” Y/N states as she frantically shuts her laptop. Leaning on the table to focus on Bucky.
“Y/N… it’s been 20 minutes.” Bucky chides
“Exactly! Too long, tell me about yourself?”
“Y/N, I really want you to get a good grade on this. My reputation is on the line too you know?” He smirks at her.
She sighs “...fine, how about an hour in, we take a break and you answer my questions!” She tries to bargain.
“You know pretty much everything. You always ask me questions when you’re bored. Besides, there’s not much to know, I’m boring anyways.” He says, getting quieter towards the end.
She stares at him for a second, feeling a small pinch in her heart hearing him say that, “You’re not boring, I think you’re really interesting Bucky. Coolest guy I’ve ever been lucky enough to meet.” She says with a small smile.
Bucky blushes and looks away, “yeah, yeah, just get back to work. No need to butter me up, I’m already helping you.” He jokes, but she can still see the dorky smile he’s trying to hide. He’s not as stealthy as he thinks.
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It’s 1 day before the paper is due and Y/N is stressed out. It’s one of those times where the full weight of the situation doesn’t hit you until it’s too late. This is her last year, and if she doesn’t pass this class? She’s screwed. She’s scared. She’s terrified that her lack of planning will lead to her academic downfall. Being one step away from full blown panic, she goes to the person she trusts most. And right now? That’s Bucky. Her knight in shining history books.
She knows he’s working, but she can’t help it. She needs him.
Walking into the library, she sees him. Sitting there, reading at his desk, looking as calm as she’s ever seen him. And she realizes that all she’s done in the past two weeks is stress him out, she can’t do it again, not now. Not when he looks like that, She’s ready to turn around and go have a good cry at home, it helps...honestly, when the man of the hour looks up.
Bucky smiles at her, excited to see her again, when he notices the tears in her eyes. He gets up immediately and walks around his desk to reach her.
When he puts his hands on her shoulders, she breaks. It’s like every mental wall she’s out up to stop herself from losing it just vanishes. She leans into his chest, with her hands covering her face, and he wraps his arms around her and pulls her behind his desk to set her in his chair. While kneeling in front of her, he takes her hands in his, and urges her to look at him
“Hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong. You gotta tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.” He pleads, hating seeing her like this.
“I can’t do it Bucky. It’s too much, it’s never gonna get done, and I can’t do it. I’m just not capable! Even with your help there’s no way I can be saved. I’m hopeless.” She cried through hiccups.
His heart hurt for her. In these past weeks he’s gotten to know her well, he knows how much she cares about her school, and he knows how much this project is worth. He’s not letting this get the best of her. Over his dead body.
“Hey, now you listen to me. You are not hopeless, you are one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, and this paper is not gonna bring you down. We’re almost done, all we need to do is edit and finalize it. That’s it. We have a little over 24 hours, that is completely doable. Don’t doubt yourself. You can do this.” He says while running his thumb over her knuckles soothingly “I’ll tell you what. I get off in 20 minutes, and I don’t have classes tomorrow, so let’s sit down and just blow through this editing. We can knock it out tonight, however long it takes, and then you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”
“I can’t ask you to do that Bucky, it’s not fair to ask even more of you.” She says softly.
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not asking. Now, I don’t know why you’re sitting there, you still haven’t gotten our ceremonial coffee, and we’re definitely going to need it tonight.” He says with a wink, while walking away to finish all he needs to do before clocking out.
She stands there for a second, smiling to herself, wondering how she got so lucky to be able to know a guy like Bucky Barnes. She needs to thank Steve.
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It’s late into the night, morning technically, and the duo are I the 24 hour study room. They’re not alone, there are many other students considering it’s right before finals week. But somehow, in their little corner with coffee, snacks, and a big blanket from Y/Ns car, it feels like they’re the only ones around.
They both have their laptops open, and are going the the document paragraph by paragraph, editing, rewriting, and making sure it flows.
Bucky looks over, getting ready to ask if the sentence should contain a semicolon or a comma when he sees her, cheek against the table, sleeping like she has no care in the world.
He should be mad, irritated that she isn’t up and working like he is. But all he can think is that she looks so beautiful when she’s sleeping. He wonders if they had more time, if they would end up sleeping together…IN A BED, he yells at himself internally. He’s glad she’s not awake, or else she’d see the blush rise on his face, and she wouldn’t let it go unless she knew why it was there.
After staring at her for a few moments longer, trying to memorize her features, he decides to keep working. He’ll work through the night any day if it kept her happy and stress free. It’s only a small price to pay to see her smile.
So he straightens up, steals her coffee, and gets to work. She’s gonna get this A if it kills him.
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At 5:37 am Bucky is finished. He’s read that paper at least 3 times, and it’s the best he can get it to be. He hopes that’s enough.
He taps Y/Ns shoulder, and she wakes with a start.
“Wha-what’s up, sorry, fell asleep there for a second. Sorry.” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes.
“Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal. But it’s finished, your paper is officially ready to be turned in.” He says to her with a proud, albeit sleepy smile.
She stares at him in shock “h-how long was I asleep? Bucky you should have woken me up! I feel terrible now!” She exclaims, panicking about him doing so much work while she slept.
“Hey,” he puts his hand on her arm reassuringly, “it’s okay, I chose to do this, and it wasn’t even that much work. All it was, was editing. Besides, you need sleep more than I do. Now, no more apologies, no more feeling bad, let’s turn this baby in and go home and get some real sleep!”
She smiles so large, he can feel it in his own cheeks, and in that moment he knew it was worth it. To see her smile like that, he’d make the same decision every day of his life.
She goes onto her submission portal, drops the file, and presses submit. They both breath a huge sigh of relief. It’s done. Now they can focus on their other classes. Now, now they don’t have to hang out every day. Both deflate a little at the thought.
As she packs up she says, “Thank you so much for helping me Bucky. I owe you so much, I wouldn’t have been able to get this done without you, not by a long shot.”
“You would have been able to do it no problem, you’re not giving yourself enough credit. I just have reassurance, you did all of the work.” He says with a smile as they come to a stop at the door.
As they stand there staring at each other, she takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the next sentence she doesn’t want to say. “Well, thank you again Bucky. You can’t convince me that you didn’t save me… I guess this is it. I won’t need to bother you every day anymore.” She says with a sad smile.
“What if I like you bothering me every day?” He mumbles while looking anywhere but her.
“Well, then expect to see me here Monday on your lunch break, I need someone to make me study for all of my other finals.” She smiles, trying to keep her smile from taking up her whole face, but failing miserably.
“Goodbye Y/N.” He says with a laugh while walking out the door. Smiling like an idiot. He can’t wait for Monday. 
A/N: Thank you all for reading!! This is going to have about 2-3 more chapters, and in that time we will learn a little more about Bucky, and maybe even see some....angst? we shall see!
Tags: @bucky-smiles @thebookwormslytherin @rogvewitch​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​ @93generation​
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nevillelongbottton · 5 years
Text
Road Trip
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You had no other ride to this wedding expect for Bucky. It shouldn’t be that bad...except you hate each other. And the road trip is going to take a couple of days. 
Warnings: Language
Word Count: 5554
A/N: This is for @brooklynbarrnes​​ as a part of the lovely @bucky-smiles​‘s Secret Santa! I had tried to write something else but this came to mind. I also got a little carried away with it. Hope you enjoy lovely :) 
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DAY ONE You had the habit of bouncing your foot. 
At first, Bucky didn't notice, trying to concentrate on the road but soon the minute's drift into hours and that was all he could notice. He glances at you, watching as your knee keeps bouncing up and down. Then the tapping of your shoe gets louder like rain that would pound against the window, and if Bucky weren't driving in the middle of a highway, he would've slammed on his breaks right then and there and demanded you to get out. 
"Will you quit that?" he snaps. You turn your head around and furrow your eyebrows at him. "That foot bouncing shit you're doing is driving me insane." Your frown, returning your gaze to the window, looking at the trees as they whip by, and you continue to bounce your foot. Bucky blows out a frustrated breath "I didn't have to drive you to the wedding, you know." His hands clench the steering wheel "I could've made you find another way." 
"I am paying you to drive me." You say, politely. "And I am very grateful for the ride. But if I didn't bounce my foot, my entire leg will fall asleep, and that is my least favourite feeling in the world." You tilt your head back to look at him "You know that feeling when your skin tingles and feels static? And then every move you make it-" 
"Yeah, I know," Bucky mutters. Tap-tap-tap-tap. "But I am not going to make it to California if you keep it up. Alright?"
You let out a deep sigh and slam the heel of your shoe on the ground "Fine!" It's not like you had any other choice but to ride down to the wedding with Bucky. Flights were super expensive, and everyone else had already left for the wedding. Riding with James Barnes was your only option. For whatever reason, you and Bucky just never got along, so riding in a car with him was testing your patience. 
After a couple of moments, you then begin to drum your fingers on the armrest. "For Christ sake, Y/L/N!" You quickly fold your hands in your lap. "Will you just sit still?" 
"We're going to be in the car for the next couple of days James; I've got to do something so that my brain does not explode!" Bucky rolls his eyes, he never expected to be driving across the country for any reason but driving across the country with Y/N Y/L/N in his passenger seat? That was a nightmare he never considered. "Maybe if you would let me play some music that would help then sitting in silence the whole time." You bit out, but Bucky didn't care, he hates listening to music when he drove, to him that was a distraction. "Come on, Bucky!" You turn to him and bite your bottom lip "We have been driving for two hours and the sound of the cars when they drive past is driving me insane." 
"No." 
"Please? I can't read in cars, or I get sick, and I don't think you want me to throw up on your seats." 
"No Y/N" 
"Just one song!" Bucky exhales through his nose, and his grip tightens even more on the wheel. His knuckles turn white. "Pleaseeee" 
"Fine," he snaps. "Fine, bloody hell just one song and then you have got to shut up and quit that bouncing and tapping." "Sure," you nod, smiling brightly. You dive into your purse which you stored under the seat and quickly pulled out your phone, wasting no time as our plug the auxiliary cord into Bucky's stereo system. You press a few buttons, and soon the car is filled with some guitar chords and piano sounds "Ah." You say, leaning back into your seat "Much better." Bucky waits for the chorus or some words, but they never come "What is this?" He asks. You cock an eyebrow "What do you mean?" "I mean, where are the lyrics? No Taylor swift singing about her heart being fucking broken again? Not even a funky beat?" "Funky beat?" you snort. "For starters, Taylor Swift doesn't always write about heartbreak and secondly, funky beat?" "Pop music, shit, or whatever," Bucky mutters. "There is such thing as instrumental music, "You tell him patiently "I just so happen to prefer this to the funky beat you think I listen to." Bucky knew you were never going to let him live that down. The song switches and you bite down on your lip "You said one song, right?" Bucky sighs "You can leave it plugged in." That night you and Bucky end up on some unnamed road driving slowly. It was nearly 3 in the morning, and Bucky kept drifting off the lane as his eyes started to grow heavy, thankfully there were no other cars around. If they hadn't had left so late in the afternoon, they would have made it a lot further then they have. "You are getting too tired to drive much longer." You say "There is a hotel just up here. Pullover and we still stop for the night." "I am fine." Bucky yawns "We can stop at the gas station, and I will get a coffee." You quickly press a few buttons, and soon a new song is playing. Bucky nearly slams on his breaks and turns to glare at you. "Change the song now!" Ooh, oh-oh, oh-oh You called me up again tonight But ooh, oh-oh, oh-oh This time I'm telling you, I'm telling you "Pull over," You instruct gesturing to the motel "I have all of Taylor Swift's songs, and I will play them all if you decide to keep driving." "Change it." Bucky growls again. "I also know them off by heart so I can sing along as well." You threaten. Bucky grabs the cord and pulls it out of the stereo stopping the song from coming through the speakers, but it just continues to blast through the phone "WE ARE NEVER EVER GETTIN BACK TOGETHER" You screech loudly. "Y/L/N SHUT THE HELL UP." "You go talk to your friends, talk to my friends, talk to me (talk to me)" "Fine!" Bucky quickly swerves off the street and into the motel parking lot, the car comes to a stop, and he takes a deep breathe clutching the wheel. You smile and stop you phone. "Bloody hell, "he rubs at his face to wake himself up. "You are a fucking nightmare." You smile "I will get us a room." 
DAY TWO. James Barnes is a handsome man. They each had their own bed in the room they stayed in, so he found it fitting to sleep in nothing but his boxers. You brushed your teeth and tried not to watch him in the reflection of the mirror as he crawled into his bed, the muscles on his back rippling. He passed out in minutes. Then this morning he woke with the most beautiful bedhead and all you wanted to was run your hands through it before he placed it into his signature bun. His chin was all stubby, and soon enough you start to daydream, imagining him kissing you with that scruff scratching your throat. Bucky peers over at you "Are you staring at me?" You suddenly sit up and shake your head telling yourself that Bucky was an annoying human being and you don't see him like that at all. "No" You yell. You turn your head to the window to stop him from seeing you blush "Are you staring at me?" Bucky narrows his eyes "What?" You fidget, and Bucky clears his throat, awkwardly something you have never seen him do before, and he diverts his eyes back to the GPS. The map is saying they still have a couple more days till they get to California and that depends on traffic. Bucky doesn't enjoy the fact that you get free range to stare at him while he has to spend most of the time with his eyes on the road. If he were able to watch you, he would, but he will settle for soaking up the smell of your vanilla body spray. He isn't sure when his feelings started but it sure as hell shocked him when he realised. You and Bucky had never really gotten along, only putting up with each for their friend's sake but in the last week or so when it was just you two left at the campus you had spent a bit of time together and then this road trip popped up. Bucky decided that even though you were a bit of a pain in the ass, you were very stunning. Bucky likes how your face glows and turns red when you are flustered and how your freckles appear over the curve of your nose. Bucky quickly shakes his head; he needs to stop thinking of you like that. "Are you hungry?" He suddenly asks, and you leap at the rough sound of his voice "We haven't eaten yet, and there is um" he gestures to the sign of the road "Places." "Places" You echo. You glance at the sign. "Are you feeling something we can eat as we drive or do you want to stop and stretch your legs?" "We should stop," Bucky says. His ass is starting to hurt, and he wouldn't mind stopping for a break. He pulls off at the next exit and stops at the first place he sees. You both jump out of the truck and head towards the restaurant, and soon Bucky is hyperaware of the men looking at you. "Give me your hand," Bucky grumbles, and you raise an eyebrow at him. "Now." You slide your hand into his, and he leads you into a table, him sitting opposite you but never once letting your hand go. A woman in a short skirt slides up to your table and quickly takes your order, you notice that Bucky seems to be glaring at everyone who is looking at you. You and Bucky quickly eat before Bucky drops some money on the table and you two make you way back to his truck. He immediately let's go of your hand, and you suddenly feel cold a the loss of contact. He blushes as he gets into the jeep but tries to play it off "Sorry, those guys looked like creeps." You smile shyly "It's ok." Bucky drives onto the highway "Food hit the spot though." You nod your head in agreement "Glad we stopped." They drive for a while, both sitting in silence. After about two hours BuckyBucky speaks again "Do you have any, uh, any other music that isn't one direction? That also has words?" You smile "Yes…" "Anything not awful?" he rubs at his eyes. "I have been driving for too long, and I need something to help keep me focused. Words would help." You frown, you don't understand why he wouldn't want a conversation with you. That has words. Perhaps that has never really been your strong suit though, even though you guys have the same close group of friends your words usually end in yelling. You look through your phone and find something that you might both like.
"It has a few funky beats," You warn "Feel free to tap to the beat." Bucky glares at you while you continue looking through your songs. I used to roll the dice Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes Listen as the crowd would sing Now the old king is dead! Long live the king! "You like Coldplay?" Bucky asks "Yeah" you nod, and Bucky shifts uneasily in his seat, smiling softly at you "me too." That night you don't need to threaten Bucky with Taylor Swift to get him to pull over. The motel they pull out seemed to be sketchier than last nights. Bucky stays in the car while you book the room for the night. "We need two beds." You say to the man at the desk. "Sorry." He responds as he combs his dark moustache with his fingers. "Only got one room open, Hot stuff. One bed only." "You cringe and quickly take the keys wanting to get out of there as soon as you can. You make your way back to the car where Bucky has fallen asleep. He jerks himself awake when you open his car door and nearly falls on top of you, and you help guide him from the car to the room. He frowns when the door opens, and you turn the light on "This place is a shithole." You shut the door, and he sits on the bed "There is only one bed." You shrug "It was all they had left." Bucky sighs and lies on the bed, not even bothering to get changed. You go through your nightly routine of brushing your teeth and washing your face, before changing into something more comfortable to sleep in, while listening to Bucky snore lightly. You make your way to the couch and settle down for the night; however, you find yourself tossing and turning the whole time. You look at Bucky in envy as he snores away on the comfortable looking bed, though you know he deserves the bed after all his driving. 
But your back hurts, and the couch is itchy, and…oh screw it. You leap from the sofa and tiptoe over to Bucky and tap his shoulder "Bucky?" You whisper "Where are the keys?" "What?" He croaks. "What are you doing?" "I am going to go and sleep in the car." He blinks a few times, still half asleep. "I can't get comfortable and-"You squeak and Bucky reaches for you and grabs your wrist, tugging you into the bed "Bucky what are you doing?" "Go to sleep." He murmurs, wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you close. He smells like leather and soap, and you fall asleep in minutes.
DAY THREE
You have the softest skin in the world. 
Bucky wakes up, his hand on your hip, his fingers under your shirt teasing the skin on your back. You are curled into him, your head on his chest and your ankle has twisted with his and holy shit he does not want to move. But soon reality gets the best of him and he slowly eases himself away from you. It takes a while to untangle the ankles, but soon he is off the mattress, and you are still sleeping. Bucky goes to get coffee before you wake up.  
Soon you get back on the road with no mention of you two sharing abed last night. Bucky vaguely remembers you wanting to sleep in the car and his thought process was why sleep in the car when you can sleep here with him and then soon you were in bed with him. He didn't mind that you were a cuddler because he decided last night he was one too. You were also warm. You also smelled nice. 
A whole new world A new fantastic point of view No one to tell us no Or where to go Or say we're only dreaming
"Oh, bloody hell!" Bucky mutters "Disney music? It's way too early for this shit in the car." 
A whole new world A dazzling place I never knew But when I'm way up here "Please don't."  It's crystal clear That now I'm in a whole new world with you
Once the song ends, you turn to Bucky and smile "Everyone likes Disney on some level." 
Bucky just shakes his head, and you continue to hum the songs quietly to yourself. Though he would be lying if he said he didn't know the lyrics. He did have a sister after all, and sometimes Bucky did find some of the tunes a little catchy. 
Soon Bucky starts to join in, belting out a whole new world with no regrets. Soon you were singing princess Jasmine and Bucky was singing Aladdin. Your duet comes to an end, and Bucky continues to drive as nothing happened. 
"Do not pretend that didn't happen." You tease, reaching over to poke his side "Because that did happen, and it was awesome!" Bucky scoffs and rolls his eyes "Don't be a baby, it was fun!" He turns his head and looks at her "You tell anyone that happened, and you find another way back home." 
You smile brightly and nod your head "Deal." A few more songs play, and Bucky joins in, both of you singing at the top of your lungs. Bucky was sometimes singing off-Key, making you laugh, until a sudden bump to the truck causes them to come to a stop. 
"What was that?" 
Bucky just shrugs before turning off the engine and jumping out of the truck. He checks around for a couple of minutes before jumping back in. 
"Everything ok?" 
He starts the engine again before turning off the highway and heading towards this little town "Busted tire, and I don't have a spare, so I need to find somewhere to fix it." 
You notice that Bucky has a scowl and his knuckles are gripping the steering wheel "Are you ok?" 
"You distracted me with the songs if I weren't singing I would have noticed the pothole and then I would have been able to avoid it."
Your jaw drops "My fault!?" Bucky just nods his head, while entering the small town. You scoff and look out the window, choosing to ignore him. 
You drive around for a while till you find an Autobarn shop. Bucky stops the car and jumps out, jogging to the door. You see him frown at the sign on the window before jogging back to the truck "Shop is closed till tomorrow so will have to come first thing." 
"Can you drive this thing?" 
Bucky glances around his truck, before turning back to you. 
"We will leave the car here; there is a motel next door." You turn to see the motel he was talking about. 
"Sounds good, we can get an early start tomorrow." 
You both jump out and go to the motel, able to get a room with two beds instead of one this time. Once you book a room, you head to the diner across the road. It's one of those places you see in the movies that have a pool table and a counter with stools. No one looks at you as you walk in and they take a seat at the bar. 
The lady behind the bar walks up to you and takes your order. Bucky subtly scoots his chair over to you a little closer. "How long you two been together?" The lady asks as she mixes your drinks.
"Oh, no!." You say quickly shake your head and accept the drink as the lady slides it towards you. "No. We're not together; he is just giving me a ride to our friend's wedding." 
"I see," she nods "What's your name." 
"Bucky." Bucky says for himself "And that's Y/N." he features towards you. "I like this place. It's chilled and got good vide." 
"My oh my." The women laugh "you are quite the charmer. I can see why that love lady is quite taken with you." 
You nearly spit out your drink ." No…I am not…we can't even stand each other- it's not like that." But the other two seem to ignore you and start a new conversation 
Throughout the night it's revealed that the women's name is Mia and she continues to slide you with drinks and soon with enough alcohol in your system you decide to start playing pool with some guys that are already over there. Bucky watches you from the car and is nearly jumping out of his seat whenever a guy helps you. 
Mia watches him intently "So how did you two end of on the road together anyway? Y/N said you guys couldn't stand each other. 
"We live in the same city, and all our other friends had left." Bucky is having trouble thinking straight as he looks over at you. "We have the same circle of friends, and we always seemed to butt heads, and everyone else finals had finished, and it was a coincidence that our last exam ended on the same day." 
"Sweetheart." Mia reaches over and grabs Bucky's cheeks, making him look at her "There are no such things a coincidence." 
"Nah." Bucky shakes his head "Y/N…is too good for me. She is always pushing me to be better, and I think that's why she gets to me so damn much." Bucky runs his hand through his long brown locks, pushing them behind his ears.  
Mia shakes her head "She is head over heels for you." 
"Nah." Bucky shakes his head "We don't get along." 
"Oh, Bucky. I would make a move before one of those boys." She nods her head in your direction. Bucky whips his head over to you and sees you giggling as one of the guys put his hand on your waist. Bucky throws some money to Mia before grabbing your jackets and rushing over while Mia smirks "Go and get her kid." 
Bucky races over and shoves the guys away from you, pulling you to him. You giggle as your body leans against his. Bucky wraps his arm around your waist and leads you out the door and onto the street, you laughing and hiccupping the whole time. 
"You are so tall." You laugh into his ribs. 
Bucky chuckles "You are just short." You giggle, and he can't help but laugh with you "Hey, did you ever see that movie?" 
"Oh yes, Bucky that movie…there are like ten billion movies." 
Bucky shakes his head at your sarcasm "No, silly, the one where they dance and lie on the street."
"The notebook? Bucky I am not sober enough to lie on the street and get back up in time before a car comes." Bucky laughs and grabs your hand "A dance then. We should practice before the wedding." 
"Right." You whisper. Bucky holds you closer and you begin to sway in the middle of the quiet street. You look into his blue eyes "Will you dance with me at the wedding?" 
Bucky exhales "Of course." You gulp and continue to look at him "You always dance with Sharon, though. You always drink too much and make out with her." 
"Because I can't make out with you. Besides, you deserve more than sex, and that's all Sharon wants." 
"What if I want that too?" 
"Y/N." Bucky whispers "You are the girl who deserves more than just a wedding hook up." 
"I would if you wanted them with me." You murmur. Your feelings are starting to come to the surface — feelings you have always had for Bucky on some level. 
Bucky stops dancing and grabs your chin between his fingers "I am so busy all the time that I don't have any time for a real relationship and that would not be fair to you. If I could give you more time then I would. I just don't have time for you, and I fucking hate it." 
"Bucky…I have wanted you since we first met when Steve introduced us, but then I always thought you hated me and so I masked my feelings." 
"Y/N…" Bucky whispers before leaning down and kissing you. You respond by wrapping your arms around your neck, and Bucky leads you back towards the motel. You both stumble a bit, both having a bit to drink and because you refused to let go. You stagger into your room and lock the door as Bucky kisses down your jaw. 
"Bucky I need you to tell me that this is because we are drunk. I can't stand if it was for anything else." 
Bucky pulls back and looks into your eyes, searching for something and even though he doesn't understand why he says "We are drunk." 
"Good." You exhale, and Bucky leans back down to capture your lips. He said that because you wanted to do, but the reason he keeps kissing you is that he wants to and it has nothing to do with you both being drunk.
DAY FOUR. 
James Barnes naked body was just as pleasing as his partially clothed body. You wake up next to him, his skins pressed against your and his hot breath in your ear. You have a slight headache that you know isn't going away anytime soon. You must have moved because Bucky begins to stir and pulls your closer to him. 
"Morning." He croaks. Even his sleepy voice is appealing. He attempts to turn you, but you push him away "What's wrong?" He frowns. 
Even though you were drunk, you remember each word that Bucky said to you, you remember the sex and the sweet things he whispered into your ear. "You don't have time for me." 
"Y/N-" 
"It's okay," you blurt, darting out of bed and you swear you see a flash of hurt cross Bucky's face "We don't need to cuddle like it means anything, it was just one night." You hate everything word that comes out of your mouth "I know what I was getting into when I slept with you. I know what it meant." 
"Y/N, wait a second." He tries again, reaching his arm out to grab yours but you dart into the bathroom "We should get ready. You need to get the car fixed." 
Bucky just stares at the now-closed bathroom door and shakes his head. He wishes you knew that last night meant everything to him. 
An hour later, you were both back on the road; the tyre is fixed pretty much straight away. The car ride was silent, and you refrained from tapping your foot or drumming your fingers. 
Bucky hates it. He wants you to tap and drum. He wants to sing at the top of his lungs with you. Hell, he wants you to giggle and tease him. Last night made him realise that he wants to make time to spend with you. You were kind and reliable and made him frustrated and happy and everything all at the same time. 
Click-click-click-click, he looks over and sees you typing on your phone. 
"Who you texting?"
"Wanda." 
"Oh." Bucky takes a deep breath "Are you going to tell her about us." 
"No. I don't think there is anything to say." 
Bucky frowns as you continue to text and before you knew it, he grabs you phone and shoves it in his pocket "We should be talking to each other, not you texting and ignoring me." 
You narrow your eyes "What do you want to talk about? How about your love for Disney or how your jaw locks when you get angry OR how about your scar on your shoulder from your bike-"
"Okay enough!" Bucky cuts you off. 
You close your eyes and sigh "I was telling her we aren't too far away and should be there tomorrow." 
Bucky nods and takes his eyes off you. 
"Should I tell her what happened between us?" 
What happened between us. They had sex, and it shouldn't be a big deal, but for some reason it is, and Bucky can't bring himself to talk about it either. 
They decide to stop again after a couple more hours, and they find a motel that is nowhere near a bar and has two beds. Bucky goes to shower while you climb into your bed, and when he emerges, you try and not stare. 
"Do you mind if I turn the light off?" He asks, and you shake your head. The light turns off, and your hear rustling before silence once Bucky has settled. 
You stare at the wall, your back turned to Bucky, and you try to stop yourself from tearing up. After five minutes you hear Bucky sigh and another rustle before you feel your bed dip and Bucky climbs in, wrapping his arm around your waist. 
"Bucky." 
"We can make it work." He whispers. "You and me." 
"Bucky…you don't have the time." 
Bucky kisses just below your ear, causing you to get goosebumps "I want to make the time. Y/N. I want us to work." 
"We wouldn't work." You argue. 
"Why not?" 
"Because I annoy you."
"In the best way possible." Bucky says, stopping you from continuing. "Y/, please give us a chance. "Bucky curls his hand through your hair. 
You eventually nod "Okay." 
DAY FIVE 
You love to listen.
You hate talking about yourself and would much rather listen to Bucky and learn all about his family and interest. You and Bucky spend the last few hours of your drive talking about everything, and you are beginning to see a different side to him. Bucky thinks your voice is beautiful and he could listen to you all day. Bucky lets you play your songs and is surprised at some of the songs that you like to listen to. 
Eventually, you guys make it to the hotel (thank god it was not a motel) where all the guests are staying.
Your rooms are down the hall from each other, and you part awkwardly, not sure if you should say goodbye, hug or even kiss. In the end, you just wave over your shoulder and disappear behind the door. Bucky’s room feels lonely already.  
DAY SIX. 
Bucky hates sleeping by himself now. With the rest of the wedding happening this evening, everyone else starts to arrive. Bucky's family shows up, and Bucky has missed them. He hugs his sister and mum before showing them to his room to allow them to get ready. 
"How was the trip?" his mum asks. Bucky can't help but smile "It was actually alright." As they enter the room, you exit your own. 
Bucky's mother smiles and hugs you "it's lovely to see you again. You look beautiful as always." "
Thank you." You blush, and Bucky has to agree. You have dressed already in a soft blue knee-length dress that hugs you nicely. Your hair is curled and falling down your back, and Bucky can't wait to run his fingers through them later. 
"I will see you after the ceremony?" You ask, and Bucky nods, he would love to sit with you during the wedding, but he has the best man duties which he is late for. 
"See you later." 
The wedding is beautiful and simple, and both Steve and Peggy can't keep their eyes off each other, you, of course, kept sharing small glances with Bucky. There were lots of soft sighs and a few tears as they exchanged wedding vows and their first kiss. 
The wedding reception is an open bar and Bucky after he makes his best man speech makes quick work of it. He keeps knocking drink after drink back, ready to relax for the rest of the weekend before the long drive back home. Soon it doesn't take long for Sharon Carter to join him at the bar. 
"Here you are. I have been looking everywhere for you." Sharon tugs at his tie which makes Bucky frown. 
"Sharon no." He softly pulls her hands away and takes a step back. The appearance of the blonde causes him to put his drink down after he remembers your words from the other day. "Not tonight." 
Sharon frowns and takes a step towards him "What?"
 Bucky just shakes his head "Sorry, but there is someone else." He quickly scans the room and sees you sitting alone with a glass of champagne in your hand, your eyes meeting his. Sharon follows his gaze and her eyes widen "Y/N? You are kidding, right?" 
Bucky smirks "I have got to go. Have a nice night Sharon." 
Bucky makes his way to you and settles next to you and places his hand on your knee. "No, Sharon?" You ask, a hint of jealousy in your tone. Bucky smiles and leans in closer "No Sharon tonight, or at the next big event we all have together." 
You can't help but smile shyly back at him before taking another sip of your drink. "What do you say Y/N Y/L/N? You want to stick around for the goodbye, or shall we head back up to your room?" 
"Don't you need to stay?" Bucky glances at Steve and Peggy who can't stop looking at each other "Nah I am done for the night." 
You can't help but smile "You promised me a dance first." 
Bucky takes your hand "That I did." 
And leads you to the dance floor "Dance and then your room."
 DAY SEVEN
You and Buck say your goodbye to everyone before jumping back into his truck and making your way back onto the highway. "Did you check the tyre?" You ask and Bucky chuckles "Yep, it's all good." You grin and lace your hand with his and lay it on your thigh. "Though I was thinking," Bucky says as you flick through your phone "that we stop by and say hello to Mia anyway."
Your grin grows, and you nod in agreement "I think that sounds wonderful, and we would save money as we would need only one bed."
Bucky chuckles and brings your hand up to his lips "Best road trip ever."
146 notes · View notes
buckthegrump · 5 years
Text
Finals Week
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Summary: A short look into Bucky’s time at university.
Warnings: minor angst, fluff
Word Count: 2.5k+
A/n: This is my secret santa gift for @holy-captain​ (sorry if it’s crap) Happy Holidays @bucky-smiles​
Bucky bumped into her freshman year, literally. He was walking down the hall of the school on the first day of class, not watching where he was going and ran into her, knocking her to the ground.
“Dude!” She’d yelled from the ground and glared up at him. “Do you ever look where you’re going? Or is your ego so big that you assume everyone will move out of your way because you’re a man who is pretty?”
Bucky held out his hand for her, she took it but didn’t stop glaring at him.
“You’re not going to apologize or anything? Typical,” she bent down and picked up her things.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful,” he said as he watched her carefully. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”
She stood back up and scoffed at him. “Good for you.”
He watched her walk away from him with a smile on his face.
* * *
Y/n sat in a spot in the middle of the classroom, knowing that she would probably only half pay attention in this class. Mostly because she’d taken it in high school, but the credits didn’t transfer, so she had to take it over again. 
Class was about to start and she was sitting at a two-person desk by herself and was thirty seconds away from celebrating until that boy, Bucky, who’d run into her in the hallway took the seat next to her.
“Hey, you weren’t saving this seat for anyone were you?” He asked. She shook her head at him and he pulled out his laptop and books.
She kept her eye glued to the front of the room not even bothering to pretend to take notes. She twirled her pen around her thumb as the professor droned on about the syllabus. Then instead of letting the students go, like most of the other professors would’ve, he kept them there and started talking about something that wasn’t even relevant to the class.
When Y/n’s curiosity got the better of her and she glanced over at Bucky’s laptop screen she watched as he began to play the Sims. Their table was parallel with the wall so there was no one behind him that could rat him out and she wasn’t going to. But still, Sims? On the first day of class? Bold move.
To be fair, she was seriously considering blatantly putting her head down on the table and taking a nap. Luckily, the professor dismissed class, and before anyone could say anything else to her, she darted out of the room.
* * *
While Bucky was determined to at least talk to Y/n, she was deadset on ignoring him. And much to her dismay, he continued to sit next to her in class. So for a few weeks, he would try and talk to her and she would either completely ignore him or just glare at him.
He stopped trying to talk to her as much, moving on to only greeting her at the start of class. To which her response a mere nod of her head.
It wasn’t until midterms when she was forced to interact with him.
“So for the final project,” the professor said meandering in the front of the class, “you’ll be working with your table partner.”
“Fuck,” she groaned and leaned her forehead on the table with a light thud.
The teacher droned on as she silently moped. She could feel the pure excitement wafting off of Bucky. 
Y/n was already convinced that Bucky was one of those people that liked putting off work until the very last moment. Which, Y/n was one of those people, but only when it came to solo work. When it came to group projects she liked getting things done as quickly as possible. Or at least her portion of the work.
Once the professor was done talking she lifted her head again.
“So, I think we should get together sometime this week and go over what we want to do and split up the work,” Bucky said.
Y/n looked at him surprised. Her mouth hung open for a moment before she answered. “Sure, sounds good. How about after class on Wednesday?”
His smile widened. “Sounds good to me.”
* * *
The term went on and they spent a lot of time together in the library, and once their project was finished they went back to only seeing each other in class. Except for the time when they found themselves at the same frat party.
Bucky saw her from across the room, she was sipping on whatever was in her red cup. She was glaring at anyone who walked too close to her. He smiled at her behavior and walked over to her. She gave him the same glare she’d given everyone else.
“Oh c’mon, we just spent half a term working on a project together and you’re going to treat me like you don’t know me,” Bucky said trying to sound hurt but he had a smile on his face that wouldn’t leave.
“I can know you and still glare at you,” she muttered into her cup taking another sip.
“At least the term’s  over.” Bucky grabbed an unused cup and began to fill it with an unsavory mixture of alcohol.
“Have you ever mixed a drink before in your life?” She sneered at him. “But term being over means that I have to go home and spend winter break with my family. Which will end with a trip to the hospital for sure.”
“Sounds like quite the family get together,” Bucky said adding sprite to his drink.
Y/n made a gagging noise. “I cannot stand here and watch you drink this monstrosity,” she said as she walked away.
Bucky didn’t see her for the rest of the night. He wondered if he would ever see her again, that it would be one of those things of ‘what if’?
* * *
It was a year later and finals week was right around the corner. Y/n had about a million finals coming up and she was stressed.
She’d just spent twelve straight hours at the library, she was supposed to be working on her reports or at the very least studying. Neither of those things happened, she spent almost every second of that time staring blankly at the screen saver on her computer or playing the sims.
With her laptop now in her backpack that was hanging off her shoulders, she stood in the middle of the grocery store. She felt that if she was going to finish any of the reports she had due, she needed some form of substance, healthy or not, to get her through these last few hours.
It was about two am and the store was practically deserted. The buzz from the fluorescent lights and hum from the freezer lulled Y/n into a trance as she stared at the ice cream section for way too long.
“Hey, stranger.” 
She whipped her head around to find Bucky Barnes standing there in plaid PJ bottoms and a dark blue crew neck. She said nothing only offering a nod of her head as a greeting. She went back to staring at the Ben and Jerry’s options before letting out an annoyed groan.
“Is everything ok?” He asked.
“What the fuck do you think pretty boy?” She asked through clenched teeth. She could feel the lump in her throat begin to rise and the tears well up in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
She scoffed keeping her tears at bay. “Everything. I can’t figure out what I’m going to do about my multiple six-page reports I have due at the end of the week. All of the notes I have for my classes don’t make sense. I think I wrote them in Russian but I don’t speak Russian. And now my boss is telling me that they might be laying people off. And to top it all off I cannot find chocolate chip cookie dough.”
“Isn’t this it?” Bucky opened the freezer door and pulled out a pint of ice cream.
“That’s dairy-free,” she said no longer able to hold back the tears. She started sobbing right there in the middle of the aisle.
Bucky put back the pint and a couple walked by giving Y/n a judgemental look.
“What the fuck do you want?” She yelled at them.
“Sorry,” Bucky apologized with a shrug, “Finals week.”
The couple scurried away as Y/n continued to cry. She muttered complete nonsense and was convinced that Bucky had just left her alone to cry her heart out.
Until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked over to see Bucky still standing there this time holding a different pint, both blurry from her tears.
“C’mon, I think you need a break from everything,” Bucky grabbed her hand a led her towards the checkout stations. 
* * *
They sat on the bench in the park blocks in the middle of their university. Bucky was silent as Y/n ate her ice cream. Bucky didn’t want to tell her that it was too cold to eat ice cream outside because it was the only thing that had gotten her to calm down and she had been insistent about not being inside for a bit. And he wasn’t about to let her sit outside in the middle of the night by herself, no matter how many times she told him she would be fine.
“When we first met I thought you were a dick,” she said, her voice muffled by the bite she’d just shoved in her mouth.
“To be fair, I did run into you.” Bucky chuckled at the memory.
“And knocked me on the ground, but I was mostly referring to the fact that we had to do that project together. I spent that entire term thinking you were just some pretty boy who thought he could skate through life because people would give you what you wanted -”
“Because I’m pretty?” Bucky teased as he bumped her shoulder with his.
“I was going to say ‘because you think you’re hot shit’ but yeah I guess that works.”
Bucky sat back on the bench and looked at the street lamps that lined the pathway.
“I thought you were really pretty when we first met,” Bucky whispered.
There was silence from both of them for a moment.
“I still do,” he said. He turned his head to find her staring at him with wide eyes. “You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. You’re going to get through this finals week and every other one just fine. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day you became my boss.”
She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out, except a yawn.
“We should get you home before you fall asleep here on the bench.”
Bucky stood and offered her his hand. She took it and he helped her to her feet. The walked through campus until they got to her building.
Bucky started laughing when she stopped in front of the stairs to the building.
“What?” She asked.
“This is my building too,” Bucky smiled.
Y/n laughed and they walked into the building together.
* * *
Y/n had four more questions on her last final and yet she could focus. Hoping that she had gotten enough of the questions right, she filled in the remaining bubbles on her scantron and turned it in.
She walked into her building and got into the elevator completely in a daze. The doors were just about closed when an arm stopped them and she was joined by no other than Bucky himself.
He didn’t say anything as he walked into the opposite corner. Y/n wasn’t sure how to talk to him after that night in the park. But it was just a short elevator ride before they got to her floor and this encounter would be over.
However, it would seem that her luck had run out because between floors five and six the elevator stopped.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Y/n whispered as she frantically pressed the button for her floor.
“I don’t think that’s helping,” Bucky said. “Besides sometimes it will start back up on its own.”
She glared at him and turned back to the doors. 
After what felt like hours but was probably closer to two minutes the lights flickered off.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she muttered. She pressed the help button just as the emergency lights came on and she turned to him. “I’m having a terrible day because of you!”
“What did I do?” He asked.
“You can’t just tell me that you think I’m pretty and then go on and on about what else you like about me right before I have to take a shit-ton of finals. I haven’t stopped thinking about it all week and then through every test, I kept imagining what it would be like to kiss you which then turned into fantasies about just hanging out with you in a very domestic way and that’s disgusting. I don’t need this kind of bullshit in my life!” 
He took a tentative step towards her and she took a step back in an attempt to maintain the distance between them. They continued this dance until Y/n was up against the wall and Bucky was only a few inches away from her.
“You what?” He finally asked with a small smile on his lips.
“Oh don’t be so smug about it babycakes,” she snarled at him.
Bucky crossed his arms in front of his chest which highlighted just how big his biceps were, which pissed Y/n off even more. Over the course of a few days, his facial hair had grown, not enough to give him a full beard but his stubble had her thinking about what it would feel like between her thighs.
“What do you mean by domestic way?” He whispered.
“Ya know, just sitting around watching TV together and -” she scoffed. “I don’t have to clarify my thoughts of thinking you’d be a good boyfriend.”
She closed her eyes and hung her head to avoid the smirk she knew he had on his face.
“Do you -” he cleared his throat, “I can’t stop thinking what it would be like to kiss you.”
She finally looked back up at him to see the slight blush he has. Off of instinct alone, she grabbed his jacket and pulled him closer to her. She paused right before her lips met his and he closed the gap between them.
Bucky wrapped his arms around her waist trying to pull her closer to him and Y/n ran her fingers through his hair. Just as she was going to deepen the kiss a loud ding sounded off in the elevator and they broke apart.
“Are you ok in there?” A voice asked over the small but lough speaker under the buttons.
“Yeah,” Bucky answered a little breathlessly, “We’re ok.”
“Ok well, the fire department is on their way.”
Bucky smiled at Y/n.
“So after we get out of here -?”
“We should talk,” she finished, but she had a lot more than talking planned.
144 notes · View notes
tkemeaway · 5 years
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Operation We-Would-Make-a-Great-Mocha
Summary: Bucky and you spend your work days pairing your costumers up. Modern AU.
Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Reader 
Word Count: 3.3k
A/N: For @buckyofthemyscira, Merry late Christmas and Happy New Year! May 2020 be all you want it to be✨, I hope you enjoy this lil gift😋.
Thanks to @bucky-smiles​ for organizing this Secret Santa thingy and for being patient, you’re awesome💕.
The gif’s a lil sexy but there’s no sexy times in this fic!
Warnings: Fluff? Pining? A lot of clichés and bad pick up lines. Bickering and stuff. Maybe a couple newbie mistakes because this is my first time writing. Bear with me pls!
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mornings were boring, but what else could you expect from a wrong placed Starbucks? The investors overestimated the interest of locals in overpriced coffee. Something about urbanizing the area, attracting more people and eventually creating a central, more commercial zone. That happened a year ago and the reason the shop was still up and functioning was mainly the horde of teenagers coming in the afternoons after school to have a taste of the “city life”. The mornings however, the mornings were a complete different story. There were two regulars, a large black coffee with a muffin at seven thirty and a hot chocolate at nine, and from time to time some clueless visitant who had gotten lost in the nameless streets of the maze-like town and came across the isolated, kind of hidden, coffee shop.
That Monday morning in particular there was a surprising amount of five people in the shop, three being costumers. Black Large had arrived half an hour later than her usual time and Hot Chocolate had apparently decided to start his day earlier than he was accustomed to, both of them taking quite a while to finish their orders. An occurrence that has turned into an usual one after the first time Black Large seemingly slept through her alarms and entered the coffee shop in a hurry to fetch her order and throw some cash on the counter at the same time Hot Chocolate was enjoying some polite small talk with the barista while waiting for his order to be made. An amazing moment happened then when, just like in the romcoms, they glanced at each other casually but their eyes glued to the other’s and for a moment it was just the two of them, until his order was placed in the counter and the world began to turn again. It was fun for the two baristas to watch how, since that day, they started coming to the shop with a bounce to their step, their gaze more alert and the tables they chose to sit in more close to the other’s each day. Fun. Yeah. At least at first.
“Oh my god, this is ridiculous, that was the fifth time in 20 minutes that they smiled at each other!” She told him as she put her hands in the air, making him chuckle. “This is not funny Buck, we gotta help this poor souls!”.
“Remember what happened the last time you helped some poor souls get together?” Bucky crossed his arms and she huffed.
“That’s not fair, how was I supposed to know? They seemed so in love!”
“He took her money and ran away!”
“Okay, okay, not my best work, but I introduced Steve to Peggy and they’re doing amazing. Besides, we know these two, doesn’t she work with your mom? And I’m sure I saw him in that big Christmas party last year. There’s no way either of them is that bad.” She argued and gave him puppy eyes. “Prithee help me help them?”
She knew the answer way before he made up his mind. That’s how it would always go between them. If he was being difficult, she would tell him that nothing happened in that goddamned town and that he was denying her the tiniest amount of fun she could gather from her boring life, that she could be doing drugs and riding motorcycles but she just wanted to be her selfless self and help someone to find love, and he would then comply to whatever she was asking of him. She would think it was because her amazing persuasion skills and excellent arguments, for she was blind to the loving look and affectionate smile she would receive from her coworker.
“Wow there, doll, no need to go shakespearean on me. I’ll do it, but the beers are on you tonight, I’mma need some alcohol after helping you chase away the only two regulars of this fucking place with your plotting.” 
She squealed, took his hand in hers and squished it against her heart, “I like you so so much, do you know that?” He gave her a pained smile that she didn’t notice because she was already scheming. “I’m thinking maybe we can put a message in her muffin and say it’s from him?”
He rose an eyebrow playfully. “Do you know how to letter with icing?”
“No, but I do have an amazing, handsome, crafty coworker who does.” 
————
“I’m soy into you.”
“You are just the way I like my coffee. Tall, dark and strong.”
“Bean thinking about you a latte.” 
“Affogato? Afforgeto where I am when I look at you.”
“Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here's my number, so caramel me maybe?”
“That wouldn’t even fit in there! And it has a sexual innuendo that I’m not sure she would appreciate much.” He said with an amused smile.
“But it’s genius!” She punched his arm as he laughed. “You’re awful at brainstorming.”
“I just don’t know why you’re putting so much effort into this, you don’t even know these people!” He questioned jokingly, and it was just for the sake of it, because he loved how stubborn she could be when she wanted something, and he knew he would do anything he could to help her get whatever she ever wanted.
“I’m projecting onto them the kind of corny as fuck romance my life is lacking.” She deadpanned and then chuckled. “Look, if I can’t have a love story with my guy then I’m gonna help them have theirs.”
Bucky’s heart clenched at her statement but he still joked. “You mean all it would take to win you over would be to throw a lame pick up line at you?” That earned him a glare from her. “You know, someday you’ll have to tell me who this guy you’re always mentioning is,” and he actually, desperately wanted to know who the fuck was this man that had everything he wanted and didn’t do anything about it. Y/N had casually mentioned him a couple times but when Bucky asked about it, she just said that the guy was way out of her league and that she wouldn’t do anything about it anyways so there was no reason to reveal his identity. 
It was Tuesday morning and that meant matchmaking time for Bucky and Y/N. It was six thirty and there weren’t any clients to serve as it was expected. She was sitting on the counter with a notebook in her lap while she chewed on a pen pensively, unaware to the effect this little action had on Bucky, who was leaning on his elbows by her side. They were using a notebook to draw a representation of the chocolate muffin that was destined to get the missive across, and trying to find the perfect line to catch the attention of Black Large without it being creepy. It needed to be precise, flirty but appropriate and the correct amount of funny. Bucky seriously doubted that a cheesy pick up line would attract the very professional looking woman, but Y/N was certain that she had to have a playful side to her in between all that business attire, and she was sure that the soft personality and cheery attitude of Hot Chocolate was the perfect combination to bring it out. All of this was on Y/N’s mind when it came to her.
“I got it!” She screeched and jumped off of the counter to scribble something on the paper that she then held in front of her for Bucky to see. There it was, in the middle of the wonky lined muffin. He left his position on the counter to fully face her and stared blankly at the words for a couple seconds only to immediately double over with laughter.
“We would make a great mocha together? Really?”
“I don’t know what you laughing at, this is honestly the finest piece of art my brain ever produced.” She rolled her eyes at him. “You just don’t get it, it’s because she orders a coffee and he has th—”
“Oh no, I do get it.” He continued to laugh and she gave him an offended look, so he put his hands up in surrender. “Okay fine, seeing that you’re the Cupid here and I’m merely one of your arrows, I’m gonna trust your oh so ever magnificent wisdom in the love field. But you owe me for this, specially if it fails and they sue us or something.”
“They can try,” she scoffed, “but since you don’t trust my amazing plan at all let’s make this into a bet, shall we?” She looked at him mischievously while crossing her arms. “If it works, and it will, you have to take my morning shift this Friday. If not, then you win.”
“What do I win exactly? When I win.” He leaned on the counter again and smirked at her. “And please define ‘works’ in this context. I’d feel lucky if she doesn’t start screaming at him or walks out immediately but I don’t think that’d be enough to call you a winner, doll.”
“If you win, you can choose whatever you want, and that’s if they don’t at least exchange numbers.” She extended her hand to him. “You in?”
He shook her hand and sighed, “I am.”
“Amazing! Operation Mocha-Love is on! To the cave!”
————
“Explain to me why is it me who has to do the delivery again?” Bucky asked her.
It was eight in the morning already and it wasn’t long before the subjects arrived. The Glorious Cupid’s Arrow (code for the muffin) was sitting on the back counter behind the display racks where the coffee was made. It was your normal chocolate muffin, except it had the words ‘We would make a great mocha together’ written in small cursive.
Y/N stopped sweeping the floor and leaned on the broomstick with her head over her hands. “You have to buy us a little time in case Hot Chocolate decides he doesn’t want to come early today. If he’s not here when we give her the muffin she will smell the distinct smell of bullshit don’t you think?”
“I get that, but why me?” He suddenly stopped wiping the counter and looked at her. “And what did you just call him?”
“Hot Chocolate? Codename for Carl, because he orders a... well, a hot chocolate? You know?” She hesitated but smiled when she saw that Bucky was grinning at her and continued sweeping. “And about her, I don’t think she likes me that much since the first time she came here and I gave her a cold coffee by accident.”
“She as in... Black Coffee?” He guessed.
“Large Black.” She chuckled.
“Nice, and what’s my codename?”
“Right now and for the sake of this mission you're Icing Arrow and I’m obviously Cupid.” He laughed and they went silent for a while as they finished their tasks.
“By the way, I know what my reward’s gonna be once this fails miserably.” She looked up at him from her new place behind the counter and rose her eyebrow inquisitively. “I want you to tell me who the guy you like is.”
She huffed in annoyance but before she could reply to his request, the sound of someone entering the shop broke her focus on him and put the plan in motion. Her eyes went wide and she silently hurried him to take position, as he was sat at the table in front of her. She got excited and Bucky even started to feel a little nervous. Though surprisingly, it wasn’t who they were expecting to arrive. Carl walked to the counter where Bucky was waiting for him already and ordered his usual, then sat in the table at the center of the place when Y/N handed him his chocolate, just beside Large Black’s table. 
Before Bucky had the time to comment on how this was perfect timing, the second subject came in through the doors and started walking towards an awaiting Bucky. Y/N could barely contain her enthusiasm while Bucky told the woman, Amanda, Large Black, that he had a special muffin for her as requested by the only other person present in the shop. Her resolution faltered when Amanda furrowed her brow but it came back stronger when a goofy grin slowly made its appearance in her face as she read the inscription in the sweet treat. She subtly did a victory dance when Amanda went to sit with Carl at his table.
————
Bucky showed up for Y/N’s shift on Friday with a defeated look on his face and dragging his feet. This was his sleeping in day. He worked Fridays in the evening, when no one came by, not even the teens, seeing they were getting ready to go out since it was Friday’s night after all. The cherry on top, he couldn’t even see Y/N like every other day working the early hours because he was covering her shift. With the silence that the morning and the solitude allowed, he indulged in the comfort of daydreaming about her. His coworker. His friend. His everything-but-what-he-wanted-her-to-be. 
He kind of disliked her at first. She was clumsy, loud, and didn’t have any boundaries whatsoever. She treated him as a friend since she started working there, a month after him, and his shy reserved self didn’t trust that kind of behaviour coming from a stranger. She would punch him in the arm when laughing at something, call him all sorts of nicknames and rely information on him that he wasn’t sure what to do with (why in hell would he want to know that she could recite all the words to the Kanye West classic Gold Digger or that she could tie her shoelaces in 3 seconds?). 
But she slowly grew on him. Her weird impressions and the way she quoted The Simpsons on a daily basis, how she started working in a coffee shop despite the fact that she hated the smell of it just to prove a point still incomprehensible to him, her temporary fixations on stupid things like pairing two strangers together or the Star Wars franchise (which she made Bucky watch with her in one sitting).
He fell for her in between days of playing Alphabet Categories and nights of drunken karaoke. 
They were friends. She was in love with someone else. There wasn’t much to it and Bucky didn’t like to sulk in it, so he just thought about what it would be like to kiss her. To be the reason she had a dreamy look on her face. To wake up with her and to hug her whenever he wanted and kiss her when she was funny like he always wanted to. He thought about this often, and that was what he was doing when Amanda entered the shop followed by, much to his surprise, Carl himself.
“Hi buddy,” he greeted Bucky once they reached the counter, “where’s your partner in crime today? Tricking some other pair of fools maybe?”
Bucky’s eyes went wide and he started apologizing, “I’m sorry sir, we meant no harm and...” but he trailed off when he noticed how Amanda was containing her laughter while intertwining her arm with Carl’s. “Wait, you two are— it worked?”
“Let’s say it did.” The woman smiled at Bucky knowingly and took out her wallet to put some cash on the counter. “Charge me our usuals, add a muffin to his and let me return the favour, please tell her you like her.”
Bucky just stared at her dumbfounded and she chuckled, but Carl was the one to continue. “You think you’re the only ones with eyes?” Bucky kept silence now worried about Y/N not being as oblivious as he thought. The man in front of him caught that. “She doesn’t know. A two way street apparently... I think we’ll leave you to it and you can bring us our food when you’re ready.”
And with that, they walked to their table.
————
It was Saturday. Y/N walked into the shop to see a nervous Bucky fidgeting in his seat at one of the tables. 
“Sup dork.” He jumped from his seat and stood in front of her. “Wow there, everything alright? You seem a little off.”
“All good, doll. Want some breakfast?” He was already walking behind the counter while she took her backpack and jacket off. “I put extra work into this one, you’re gonna love it, made it myself.”
She scowled but didn’t say anything. She came out of the employees closet with the apron on and leaned on the counter with her elbows supporting her. “Well hit me with it then.”
Y/N saw Bucky falter a little, but he still placed the dessert in front of her and watched her closely while she examined the piece of food.
It was a muffin. A big as fuck muffin, clearly homemade to make the long phrase written on top of it fit, apparently by Bucky, and Y/N’s breath got caught in her throat when she read the words of a beautiful pink color. She thought it was either a joke or maybe another Cupid’s Arrow to light the way of some other lost idiots to love. Though when she looked up at Bucky, the look of utter adoration and hope on his stupidly, impossibly blue eyes left no doubt in her mind. However, she kept her expression as blank as possible. He was desperate already, wondering if he should have said something instead, if he should talk now, but she interrupted his thoughts by saying “You know, it doesn’t work if you already have my number and we’ve known each other for almost a year. I guess it’s fair to tell you who I fancy.”  And, before she could actually see his heart breaking, she brought him closer to her by his shirt and kissed him with the counter between them.
————
“You know, you didn’t actually say anything.” She told him while keeping her eyes in the frapuccino she was occupying her hands with.
It was funny, like watching Large Black and Hot Chocolate pining after the other for weeks, how the largest amount of clients in months decided to come to the wrong placed Starbucks just when Bucky was finally able to taste the lips of the woman he wanted for so long. Even before he had time to properly react, the door opened and a procession of seemingly still drunk gals and pals walked in the shop. This happened from time to time, when hungover people would walk in after a busy night to the only coffee shop open so early on a Saturday.
Bucky smiled and turned her around by her hips to face him. “I like you.”
“How much?” And even if he didn’t expect her to ask him to marry her, he wasn’t expecting that answer either. But then she saw the cheeky grin on her face and cackled. “Are you really going to make me say it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She bit her lip to keep her smile from showing.
He laughed and kissed her cheek. “I like you a latte.”
She kissed him again, conveying her answer with the fervency of her lips and the desperation of her hands in his hair. Bucky brought her even closer to him by her waist and slightly bit her lower lip to gain more access to her and— someone clearing their throat from behind the counter. “Do you mind not making out over my cup?” Said the man with an annoyed tone.
They went back to finishing the last orders with big smiles and hearts aching to embrace the other. “Can you pass the coffee and sugar?” She asked from behind him and Bucky dropped the cup he was working on when she walked to him and stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “Because you just made me cream in my pants with that kiss.”
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broadwayandnetflix · 5 years
Text
It’s Always Been You - Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Language
Theme: Fluff, Pining, Semi-Angst
Summary: Being the youngest princess in a wealthy kingdom definitely has its ups and downs, especially when your father is trying to court you away to some wealthy prince. 
Word Count: 2.2k
A/N: This was made for @bucky-smiles​ Secret Santa Writing Challenge, and I wrote this for the lovely @delicatelyherdreams​. I really do hope that you enjoy this, even with its late arrival. I feel as though this story went in a million different ways, but I tried to do you justice. I also hope you enjoy my very creative way of coming up with kingdoms. (no sarcasm here)
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You sat upright on your mattress, eyes closed, and knees tucked underneath you, a faint smile gracing your lips. The air of your bedroom peaceful, quiet minus the soft sound of your record player playing in the background, calm and serene.
Rarely if ever, you had moments like these to yourself. Periods where you can just relax and not have to help your family tend the Kingdom.
Where you could simply pop open a book, wear more comfortable clothes, do nothing, go out, and not have Barnes check up on your every move. Well, you could let that last one slide.
For the last 19 years, your existence has been claimed by your family’s royal history. From the first day of your life, you were titled as one thing and one thing only.
Y/N Y/L/N, Princess of Starkonia.
You were to be polite, flexible, and accepting of those around you, you had to be presentable and prepared at your father’s beck and call. You needed to be present during ceremonies, and get prepared for what seemed to be your most significant task, marriage.
Even the mention of the word tasted bitter on your tongue, the prospect of being wedded to a man you barely knew was revolting. Yet, just like your sisters did before you, you too would have to get married at some point.
Savannah was first, marrying some big wig from a neighboring country. Juliet was next, getting married at only nineteen to one of the richest princes from Rogeria. Shortly after followed Hannah, who conveniently married Juliet’s husband’s brother.
Growing up, marriage was all your sisters could talk about. Often dreaming of what they would wear on their wedding day, or how they would soon one day become queen, conjuring up the royal subjects that they would lead and inspire over.
You would listen, of course, with an eager grin, but whenever they would ask for your input, you’d often draw a blank. Even during your early teenage years, you couldn’t really imagine your future starting off with marriage. Which, of course, was unusual regarding your sister’s childhood, so you often became alienated from discussions.
So you found refuge in the likes of one of your father’s young knights, James Buchanan Barnes. Or Bucky to you and you only. Despite his dedication and serious attitude to his job, you’d often find time to sweep him away.
The two of you frequently met in secret within the palace’s gigantic library, reading side by side, eating stolen pastries from the boisterous and clattering kitchen.
Underneath the full bookshelves of the library was where the two of you let your guard’s down. Both of you share secrets that you’d tell no one else, read books from the tallest shelves, and chatter on about the latest palace gossip.
The library was where you learned that Bucky was an aspiring writer, but became a knight to make a living and impress his father. He was thoughtful, quiet, but also quite humorous, always seeming to tickle you with his quips and comments.
In response, you shared your distaste of marriage and how you desired a more straightforward career that didn’t require so much attention. Instead of being judgmental and critical of your complaints, Bucky, to your delight, welcomed them with considerate eyes, and a listening ear.
Bucky made your days meaningful, always giving you something to look forward to, an escape if you will. So when your father, unbeknownst to your growing duo, made Bucky be your personal guard, the two of you were ecstatic.
Of course, you knew the reasoning behind this, your father valued your safety, being the youngest of your family meant that you were the last to be scooped up. Given your family’s rich lineage, courting, you would be a satisfying compromise for growing countries and their princes.
Bucky would often find himself falling subject to your long, and constant complaints about your potential suitors.
Nobody ever seemed to meet your fancy. Thor of Asgard was too self-absorbed, Bruce of Bannaria was too quirky, or worst of all, Samuel of Willaria was way to forthcoming.
Oh, how they all gave you quite a headache!
You could tell that your father was becoming quite frustrated with your lack of progress. Day by day would pass with to no avail, you’d always find some way to shoot each of them down.
Dinner’s would be filled with short tempers and argumentative quips that’d send you to sleep angry and exhausted. Unless you found a suitor that satisfied your father over yourself, then you could make him proud.
Yet through thick and thin, Bucky remained a constant in your life, even if he technically had to be. The two of you would often explore the little village outside of the palace. Complete with bustling vendors within the local farmer’s market that sold ripened fruit, pastries, linens, and fresh honey from the town’s apiaries.
You always found joy in seeing the many vendors that always greet you with a smile. Or seeing the kids that would run around trying not to trip over themselves to see the royal horses. Days like these were your escape as they were Bucky’s who could always be found in the town’s small bookstore.
Days where you don't have to prove yourself to anyone or focus on whomever you were going to marry. These days were your favorite, like this one, in particular, your mother and father out for a gathering with a neighboring kingdom.
Despite the flurry of servants and staff that resided in the palace, you were technically by yourself for the day. That was until you hear a knock on your door, open your eyes, and swing your legs forward to stand up from your bed.
“Come in!” you called out before rushing over to lower the sound on your record player.
The door opened with a swing and in stormed Bucky with a sour disposition, a scowl planted firmly on his lips. You gaped wide-eyed at the sight in front of you, never had you seen Bucky so angry.
“What’s wrong?” you asked quickly, watching as he simply paced your room, ignoring you.
That is until he stopped abruptly before focusing his gaze onto you, his shoulders sagging almost immediately. He stood in his uniform minus the exception of his gloves, his metal fingers reflecting in the light that streamed through your window.
“My father,” he huffed, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes tightly, “My father found my novel and went fucking ballistic.” he seethed.
Concern flooding your senses, you move forward to comfort him but ultimately decided against it, taking a step back to give him some space. Bucky’s father had always been tough on him, especially after the loss of Bucky’s mother.
Bucky, more often than not, had to take control of the house to protect himself and his little sisters while his father went out and got drunk at the local taverns. Hence why he had this job in the first place, ultimately crushing any dreams that Bucky had for writing.
“How could I be so stupid? I shouldn’t have left it in plain sight! Or, more specifically, a place where I should’ve known that Rebecca would’ve found it!” he exclaimed, cursing himself quietly, eyes widened like saucers.
“Bucky, you aren’t stupid, and there was no way you could’ve known that she would’ve found it,” you replied quietly, catching his gaze just for a second before he focused it elsewhere.
He exhaled heavily clamping his eyes shut, despite the way he held himself up, you could still see the slight tremble between his legs.
“I’m sorry that your father reacted the way he did. Buck, you don’t deserve that kind of treatment from your father.” you continued on before sitting down on the bed, his eyes opening warily at the sound of you falling against the cushions.
He watched you sit momentarily before joining you without a second thought, his much taller figure slumping onto the bed, before resting his head against yours.
You grew rigid at his touch, trying to fight the pounding in your heart that seemed to echo painstakingly loud in your chest. His arms snaking their way around to your side before he let out a shaking sigh, his metal armor cool to the touch on your skin.
Why do you feel so sweaty all of a sudden? You two had never been this close before, so why does this feel oddly comfortable? Is that cologne? Bucky smells..nice.
“Thank you.” he murmured ever so quietly so only you could hear.
“Anytime Buck, anytime.” you exhale promising yourself that you’d hold him as long as he deemed necessary.
-
One Week Later
“Come on, sister! Is there really nobody that you fancy nowadays?” Savannah, your oldest sister, exclaimed one evening as the two of you caught up as of your monthly tradition. Her eyes all giddy, hands on her hips in a way too over dramatic manner.
You frowned at the comment presented in front of you, of course, you did not ‘fancy’ any of the young princes offered to you. Yet, there did appear to be someone who did cross your mind more than often nowadays.
Bucky.
No, that didn’t mean you fancied him. Of course not, Bucky was … well, Bucky. He was your best friend, best friends don’t date. Princesses most certainly don’t marry knights either that was just fairy tale nonsense. Father would never approve either.
“Well?” Savannah quipped, her body tilting as she shifted all of her weight onto one foot.
You swallowed sheepishly, glancing down at your feet, flinching at the excited squeal that your sister let out as the realization sunk in.
“Oh my gosh! Y/N! Tell me everything? Who is he? Is he cute? Oh, tell me he’s cute!?” Savannah cried out, nearly tripping over her dress to pull you into a bone-crushing hug.
“Savannah!” you gasped, squirming your way out of her hold, looking at her all bewildered.
“Sorry, It’s just, my baby sister finally found someone,” she replied before taking a seat on your bed, looking at you expectantly.
“Okay, well, for starters, I don’t even know if I like him. I’m friends with him, but he’s just been very touchy lately,” you admit before plopping down beside her lying down on your bed.
“Define touchy,” she questioned while following your actions, her hair now brushing up against yours.
You glanced at her perplexed, the two-year history between you and Bucky swirling around in your mind. Why now? Why were you questioning it now?
“I don’t know, he’s just been a lot closer than he used to be.” you murmur as you rub your face in frustration.
“Don’t tell me this is that young knight that always follows you around like a lovesick puppy?” Savannah exclaimed as she sat upright, looking at you wide-eyed.
“He does not!” you retort back.
“Oh, it so is! You have to tell him!” her voice reaching a pitch that you didn’t think was possible.
“I don’t think I could even stomach that, what if he rejects me?” you sigh, sitting upright only to notice your bedroom cracked open slightly ajar.
“I’m sorry, is this a wrong time?” a voice calls out as the door pushes forward to reveal Bucky.
You have the hold back the gasp that threatened to escape your lips. Bucky catches your gaze, noting the tension in the air between you three before adjusting it onto your sister, who was just as surprised as you.
“I’m guessing this is the wrong time,” Bucky stammers awkwardly before turning around to go.
“Wait!” you cry out, causing him to turn back around, eyeing you curiously.
“I, I need to talk to you about something,” you stammer anxiety pricking at your skin. You felt hot and heavy, the bed dipping as Savannah slipped out the door.
Bucky letting the door close behind him, before walking over to sit beside you on the bed, just as you did for him not so very long ago. He looked at you with an expression that you couldn’t quite decipher, his eyes searching yours for what you were saying.
“You know I don’t know why it hasn’t hit me sooner,” you start trying to hide the shakiness of your words.
“No one ever seemed right, or just worth my time, not even if my parent’s approval was on the line.” he nods to himself slightly at that, chuckling softly.
“I’d be so disappointed with myself, and then I would turn around, and you would be there. Bucky, you have always been there for me,” you admit swallowing before mustering up the courage to meet his eyes.
“It’s been you, Buck, it’s always been you. You are the one I want, I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” the words fall from your lips, and just like that, it’s as if time stops for just a second.
The room that felt heavy and thick with hesitation or the anxiety that clung to your skin evaporated. All you could see was Bucky and the soft smile that complimented his features. The way his hand slipped into yours, the way he didn’t look away from you as he inched closer.
The way his hand caressed your check sending shivers down your spine, or the way he kissed you with a longing that had never felt so good. Who knew someone could taste so good, or smell so good.
It was perfect, it was long overdue, and it was brand new all at once. And you couldn’t wait to see where it takes you next.
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crushedbyhyperbole · 5 years
Text
Disco Ball Diva
A/N: For @buckyshelves Merry Christmas, I hope you enjoy this and have a great festive holiday
To @bucky-smiles​ for organising this secret Santa gift exchange, you’re awesome and so, so kind
Also... thank you to my friend Haz who beta read this for me.  You are always so supportive of my writing and I love you
Summary:  You’re inappropriate, sassy, have snazzy powers, and now you’re an Avenger-in-training.  Not everyone appreciates your blasé attitude, and when a surveillance mission goes south you’re thrown together with one hot brooding super soldier.  It doesn’t help that you can’t stop ogling his bum.
Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Reader w/ powers
Word Count: 7k.  I actually feel bad that it’s so long.
Warnings:  Violence, gun violence, Bucky kills people, mentions of blood and injury, bad language (which is a given for me), some sexual tension (light) but mostly just reader is an asshat XD
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The Avengers compound is not like you imagined it.  Or maybe it is but you haven’t found any of the secret stuff yet.  Hidden jet hangers under the basketball court, labs in the basement, glass cases full of superhero suits.  Wait.  That’s the freakin’ X-Men.
Still, it’s nothing like you hoped.  The conference rooms are boring, obviously, because meetings are the epitome of dull. The communal lounge and kitchen are both boring; there’s no espresso machine that doubles as a drone, no fridge that transforms into sentry bot, there isn’t even a SodaStream.  Yawn! You don’t even need to see the fitness suite to know that it’s not a place you want to visit, and you’re not allowed below the ground floor yet.  Talk about not trusting the noob.
Your room is a vision of extreme lacklustre, but you only moved in yesterday, so, no redecorating just yet, save for the peace lily your brother gave you.
Congrats on your new job and home by the way, here’s a half-dead plant I had but couldn’t be bothered to look after.  Now it’s yours.  Enjoy!
Your super power is definitely not green thumbs, nurturing life, healing, or anything even a tiny bit supportive.  You can’t fly, don’t have super strength, speed, or a crazy-good aim.  There’s not a green rage-monster just below the surface waiting to erupt and smash things.  Well, if someone steals your cookies you might have to choke a bitch but hey, rainbows are cool, right?  Super distracting, like oh hey, what’s all this shiny shit flashing around?  Oh dayum, I totally didn’t see that badass super warrior coming to kick my ass.
You swallow hard.  The small conference room feels like an interrogation room despite the polished wood table and plush leather chairs.  Of four sets of eyes that are currently watching you, only one pair is encouraging.
Tony Stark.  The guy who recruited you.  Took you from a life of selling hotdogs on street corners in the City and apartment sharing with a crazy cat lady called Angie who you found on Craigslist.  You had nothing against crazy cat ladies, per se, but you would prefer it if the pissy smell was optional.  Angie had opted in, hence why you jumped at the chance to opt out.  Ugh.
“Rainbows?”  The scowly but buff brunette with the dreamy blue eyes and robotic arm, scoffs mockingly.  “You project rainbows?”
The equally buff blonde who you suspect might be Captain America (or maybe his stunt double) snickers, his head lowered to hide his amusement.  Does Captain America have a stunt double, for like, TV appearances and meetings with officials, and stuff?  You’ll ask later.  Right now, you’re annoyed.
“Oh, I’m sorry, fist-of-victory!”  You snap your fingers like the queen you are.  “Am I too snazzy for you?  Do my rainbows ruin the whole Neanderthal vibe you got going on there?”
Loud snorts and chuckles pull you back.  The redheaded vixen you know already as Black Widow is pinching her nose to stifle her laughter, and Tony is looking to the heavens in askance but emotional stability is not forthcoming.
“Wow.”  The brunette says flatly.
“Fist of victory.” Tony ponders, eyes twinkling.  “I like that.”  He levels an amused gaze at you, rolling his next words around in his mouth.  “Manchurian candidate is a little out-dated, wouldn’t you say, Barnes? Ready for an upgrade?”
Oh shit!  Your eyes get big.  The brunette is none other than the infamous Winter Soldier.  You should have known by the arm.  Show no weakness!  Your brain screams.
“What’s the official title for that skill, you have?” Steve Rogers has gotten his face to cooperate, now there’s no trace of a smirk.  “Light manipulation?”  
“Walking disco ball.” You put on the light show again, manipulating the effects so the lights are dancing across the, now stormy grey, eyes of one Sergeant Barnes.
“It’s definitely distracting.”  Natasha says objectively.  “Could be useful.”
“See!  That’s what I said!”  You punch the air, sending the lights into a frenzy.
“I have a theory.” Tony is playing his cards close to his chest still.  “That’s why y/n is here.  She’s agreed to work with us, and at the very least she can be a supportive member of the team.”
“Team, frickin’, playahhh!”  You holler, earning a concerned look from Rogers and a downright obnoxious groan from Barnes.  “What?  What you complaining at?  You fucking love me already!”
The truth was that you didn’t know how your ability worked.  You could feel it when you did your thang, like the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and the air in your hand felt stiff and substantial.
Better not talk about hands full of substantial stiff things around grandad Tony, he might kick the bucket.
You could manipulate the amount of reflections in your light show by making the air heavier, make them move, dance, even adjust the size of them a little.   Agreeing to work with The Avengers had been a no brainer; you get paid, get a place to stay that isn’t full of the stench of sadness and cat piss, and you get to find out more about your ability.  Win, win, win.
+++ A couple of weeks later +++
“You really expect me to take Rainbow Brite on this mission?”  Barnes has his arms crossed across his chest, refusal crinkling his brown and pursing his lips into a thin line.  The guy looks hot in tac gear.  One bicep straining against the material, the other is obviously free and oh-so-fucking-awesome.  Thighs tight under those black tac pants, thigh holster accenting the flex of muscle as he shifts his weight.  Wait-what!?
“Wait a fucking minute!”  You squawk.  “Rainbow Brite?  Oh, hell no!”  You march up to him, similarly decked out in black gear that makes you look like some tiny recruit in ill-fitting body armour instead of badass like him.
There’s a smirk on his perfect mouth now, dusky pink lips lop-sided with amusement, and the twinkle in his eyes is more than a little alluring.  What the fuck?
“Huh.”  You stop your tirade, blinking, baffled.  He’s playing with you.  Trying to get you pissed so you’ll refuse to go, or maybe he wants you to go so you’ll make a fool of yourself and Tony will see you’re not useful. Too many mind-games already, you don’t have the patience for this shit, so you go with an insult instead.  “If I’m Rainbow fucking Brite then that makes you Twink.  Dink!”
“Well, he does epitomise my sparkling personality.”  Sardonic, deadpan.  It’s classic brooding Barnes and you’re almost proud that he got an 80’s pop culture reference.  Almost.
“And they did rename him Mr fucking Glitters back in 2014.”  You pout, adopting his stance, arms crossed.
“Perfect!”  Tony pops m&ms into his mouth, turning away dismissively.  “Rainbow Brite and Mr Glitters it is.  Head to the carpool, there’s a vehicle waiting for you both.”
There was no getting away from this mission.  You’d grumbled, griped, whined, and begged Tony to send you with anyone but Broody Barnes but the Iron Man was true to his alter ego, he did not budge.
You are about to take a few pot shots at him in the insults department when Barnes’s voice comes over the earpiece you have already been fitted with.
“Earth to disco ball. Get in the damn car already.”
“It’s disco diva to you, giant cocksicle.”
He laughs at that and is still grinning when you slide into the passenger seat beside him.
“You’ve got some mouth on you, kid.”  Was that acceptance?  Admiration? Whatever it was it looked good on him.
“Yeah, you know you want my mouth.”  It sounded better in your head but now that it’s out it can’t be taken back.  Barnes looks a little frowny but at least he’s got nothing to say so you can quietly die in peace.
Can someone cringe so much they die?  You might find out.
The mission is surveillance.  Low-key observations of a facility out in Nova Scotia that makes products for iGoddess, a beauty company owned and run by Gabrielle Porter, the niece of one Alexander Pearce, crime syndicate king-pin and scumbag extraordinaire.
You know the company; you buy their stuff.  Well, you do now you can afford it and it’s not wasted under the scent of cat urine and bleach.  How can a company so devoted to making women feel special and empowered be mixed up with drugs, weapons and human trafficking?  Fucking bullshit, that’s what it is.
Bucky had ditched the car in the parking lot of a lake-side leisure and visitors centre about fifteen miles away, and with gaudy waterproof outerwear over your tac gear, you had begun the hike that would set you smack-bang in the middle of nowhere good.  Posing as hikers had been Tony’s brief but you’re cold and bored, and your body aches from being on the solid ground.
You’re both lay just behind the crest of a hill a little way away from your target building.  Bucky mutters his observations into his comms as you look through your own binoculars trying to see what he’s looking at.  He’s talking guard numbers and movements, the weapons they carry, security features and people entering or leaving the facility. It’s no use, you’re not cut out for this.  Surveillance is soul destroying.  You’d rather be interred in Tony’s kitchen, at least there’s coffee there.
Not even an hour in and you’re itching to get up and move around.  The hike had gotten your blood pumping but now you’re going stir-crazy, joints tingling with the need for motion.
Boring.  Boring.  But at least you can entertain yourself.  Where there’s light there’s beauty and you tease the air through your gloves, finding that your skin doesn’t need to be bare for you to create the effect.  Well whadd’ya know.
“There’s movement.” Bucky warns.  “Looks like some of the guards are exiting the compound.”
You snort, they’re probably bored too.
“A Jeep and a couple of motorbikes, moving quickly.”
“Sounds like they’re going home.”  You mumble, focused on the lights in your hand.
“They’re headed this way.” He curses.  “Grab your- What the HELL are you doing?”
Bucky tackles you to the ground from where you were on your knees almost at the hill’s crest.
“Asshole!”  You’re trying to get away from him but he pins you to the ground.
“I’m the asshole?” He complains as he rolls off you, sliding down the hill on his ass, shoving his gear unceremoniously into his backpack. “Mission compromised.”
“What happened?” Tony’s disembodied voice doesn’t sound happy.
“We were spotted.”  At the bottom of the hill, Bucky starts picking a path through the rocks and small fissures hidden by the wild grass and heathers. A quick glance back tells him you’re not following; you’re caught.
“Uh, hi, guys.”  You chuckle nervously as one of the guards levels an assault rifle at you.  “Would you believe we’re winners of a free weekend iGoddess Spa?”
Bucky is livid.  If it had just been him, he could have taken them out and escaped, but, no.  Tony had to insist that he bring you, show you the ropes, look after you.  Babysit you.
He snorts.  You don’t need a minder you need to be put in a padded room where you can’t inflict any more of your weird bullshit on him. Fucking rainbows.  What kind of skill is that, other than one that gets you caught?
Eight hours ago you were both doing great.  There’d been some small-talk in the car, he’d opened up a little and you’d responded. Even on the hike over you’d been great, your filthy mouth was a source of much amusement for him, and you’d listened. His instructions were followed close enough to the letter, and he was happy.  Everything was good.
Now it’s all fallen to shit and he’s locked up in a heavy-duty restraint chair that brings back memories of dark places and dark times for him.  To his side, you’re slumped forward in a regular wooden chair, cable-ties binding your wrists and ankles to the wood, pulling at your skin, making your hands and feet turn blue.  How the hell are you both supposed to get out of this?
He’s watching the movements of your chest that tell him you’re still breathing.  The cut on your head has stopped bleeding but you’re drooling blood-tainted saliva down your grey rash-guard.  Both of you had been stripped down to your undergarments and checked for hidden weapons.  He was the first to be incapacitated as they’d used you as leverage, holding a gun to your head until he complied, stripped, and submitted to the chair. When they’d took away your gear you’d fought and Bucky had seen red; he’d strained against the chair until the butt of a gun to the head had put a stop to that.  When he came to you were out cold, beaten and bloody.  How hard had you fought?
Your feet and hands are turning purple now.  The weight of your body pulling the restraints against your skin is making the plastic ties dig deep, cutting off the circulation.
“Y/n?”  Bucky hisses, hoping the noise doesn’t prompt the guards to come back.  “Y/n! Wake up!”
The room you’re in looks like an interview room.  Two-way mirror, camera in the corner, reinforced door with heavy-duty locks that were strangely not engaged.  It’s grey and cold, and the only things in the room are the two chairs and you two. The device Bucky is locked into is bolted into the floor; a permanent feature, like they expected him or maybe Steve. He tests the chair again.  It creaks but doesn’t give.  He’d have to really put some brute strength into it to break out, and that would create too much noise.  He’d wait.
“Y/n!”  A little louder now, and you stir.
He keeps talking to you, just bullshit words, what he wants for dinner, what film he’s going to watch when he’s home safe.  Anything to help draw you back to consciousness.
“You wana watch a film with me, y/n?”  He thought for sure you’d tell him to go fuck himself.
You moan, head lolling as you come back to him.
“Hey!  Rainbow Brite!”
“Fuck you.”  It’s a whisper but he’ll take it.
“There she is.”  He allows himself a relieved smile.  “C’mon, sweetheart.  I need you to sit up for me.  Take the weight off those ties before there’s any permanent damage.”
It takes a few more moments before you can shuffle yourself properly into the chair, then you’re flexing your hands and feet to get the blood moving again.
“Oh-god-it-hurts-so-fucking-bad!”  You are practically wailing as the pins and needles sensation in your extremities reaches a peak.  The slightest movement now sends a cacophony of intense pain into your limbs.
“It’ll be over soon.” Bucky sooths.
“Why are you being nice to me after I got us caught?”  You eye him suspiciously, flapping your hands to rush the blood into your fingers.  Rip the band aid off.  “Is this some kind of prank?  Ohhhhhhh!  This is an initiation isn’t it?  Oh, I see. Where’s Iron Doosh?  Hey!  Tony!”
“Would you shut up?  This is real.  We’re really captured.”  Bucky hisses.
“Tony Stank, Skank, Spah-hank.”  You sing-song as you struggle against your restraints, examining your bound feet through spread knees.  “I hope this is one of the chairs from his good dining set.”  You stand, leaning forward and centring your weight above your bent knees.
“What are you doing?”
“Just need to…”  You shuffle over to the mirror.
“No, y/n, wait!” Bucky begs.  “Don’t break the glass.”  His frantic expression says the rest.  Your feet are bare and you’ll shred yourself to ribbons.
“What?  You’re crazy.  Why would I do that?”  You chuckle, amused that he’s so worried.  “There’s no one in there.”  You wink at him.  “They’d be in here by now if there were.”
You shuffle a bit more and grunt as you throw yourself backward to the ground.  The chair cracks but doesn’t break.
“Fuck!”  You struggle some more, grunting and groaning like a butch female tennis player in a grand slam.  One of the arms loosens and you fight against the wood until you get your left hand free, then you’re reaching into your hair for a bobby pin to jam into the clasp of the cable tie on your right arm.
Moments later, you’re free and rushing to Bucky who is fighting against his own restraints. There’s sweat beading on his bare chest and his hair is sticking to his forehead.  A quick swipe of your hand clears his brow and he stills, watching you as you search the chair for whatever mechanism has him trapped.
“There’s a big red lever at the back.”  You muse. “You think it’s an ejector seat?” A cheeky wink.  “If I sit in your lap we can both go for a ride.”  You don’t have time for giggling and flirtation, but you do it anyway.
“Y/n.”  Bucky chastises lightly.
“What?  This is every girl’s wet dream.  Every, damn, girl.”  You mumble as you grip the handle.  “And I can’t even enjoy it.”
“Just pull the damn thing already.  We don’t have time to mess around.”
“Pity.”  You tug the lever and a loud hiss fills the room, pressure releasing from the chair.
Bucky is on his feet and at the door before you make three steps.  He’s rubbing his right forearm where the metal clamps had bitten into his flesh, there’s blood there too, long ago dried.
“There’s movement out there.”  He has his ear to the door.  “I need a weapon, we need our gear, and we need a vehicle.”
“I need some chocolate and bottle of wine.”
“What?”
“Are we not making a shopping list?”
Bucky rolls his eyes and grabs your wrist.  “C’mon.”
With the door cracked open, Bucky can see movement at the end of the corridor; there’s a security room which is promising for retrieving your gear, but not if you want to avoid being seen.
“Stay behind me.”  He pushes you towards his back.
You look down at his bum. “No problem.”  You sigh and then you’re moving, your hand on his bare back so you can feel where he’s moving next.
Bucky suddenly shoves you down into a squat, shushing you with a finger held against his lips.  The way he moves is like water, smooth and forceful, carrying the momentum of his body towards a lone guard who has paused at the corner by the security room.  How he hasn’t seen you is a miracle but the man doesn’t even hear Bucky until the his own knife is slipped from its sheath and into the his temple. There’s no sound, no gurgling, not even much blood.  Bucky lowers the body to the floor and cleans the knife on the pants of the dead man.
Looking at him now, you can see why people fear him.  His expression is cold, calculating, and focused.  It’s necessary, the distance he puts between himself and the act of killing.  Even when Bucky was him, there was always a distance; a gap between him and his orders.  Now the killing is his choice and he has to live with that, there’s no excuse of mind control now.  This is all him.
The security room has one guard inside who is overpowered moments after Bucky opens the door.
Fucking amateurs, you think.  Does that room not have cameras that cover the door and surrounding corridors?
Turns out that it does and the reason the guard hadn’t seen you was because he was sexting his girlfriend.
“Sexting?”
“Yeah.  Like sex role play and talking dirty over text.”  You snort.  “Jeez, you’re old.”
“What can I say? You’re broadening my horizons.” He winks then and it’s so out of place in this grim situation that you laugh nervously.  “Sounds fun.”
“Well don’t take tips from this guy.”  You wave his phone in the air loosely.  “He’s fucking terrible at it.”
“What’s bad about it?”
You’re not sure if he means to ask that, he’s busy trying to get outside communication through the phones which seem to be keycode protected and also checking through the security feeds to see if he can find your gear and a way out of this for you both; he’s clearly distracted.  At least he’s happy now that he has a pair of handguns and a pair of knives, no weapons for you because you haven’t completed your firearms training yet.  But let’s face it, who would arm you anyway?  You were a disaster waiting to happen.
“He’s a bit of a wham-bam-thankyou-ma’am kinda guy.”  You chuckle. Bucky is going to regret starting you off down this line of conversation.  “His poor woman has probably never experienced even mediocre sex with this schmuck if his sext skills are anything to go by.”
“Too eager to bury the bone?”  Bucky sounds distant, but he is listening to you as he checks drawers for weapons, keys and anything else that might be useful.  God knows your gear was nowhere to be found.
“Check it.”  You hop up on the desk near him and scroll through the laughable chat.  You feel slightly guilty reading this guy’s private shit but he’s dead so he isn’t going to care.  Reading from the chat, you do fake voices.  “So she’s like ‘hey baby, you free tonight?  I got something for you.’ Peach emoji, cat emoji.  And he’s like ‘you off your period? Can we bang?’  I mean, what the fuck dude?”
Bucky is smirking when you look at him.  “What did she say?”  He straps both thigh holsters to his almost naked body.  It’s comical how he’s gearing up from salvaged stuff wearing only a pair of skin-tight spandex shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. Once Bucky is packing (in more ways than one, now) you have to force your eyes elsewhere.
“’Yeah, baby! I missed you so bad.  Can’t wait to be in your arms again.’  She just wants lovin’ y’know?”  You spoke the line in a soft, breathy voice.  Fake, of course.
“And what did he say?” Bucky is checking the monitors one last time before he moves to the door.
“You like a bit of sexting? Huh, Barnes?”  You smirk, eying him mischievously.  “Living vicariously through the sexting chronicles of Captain Dick-Down over there?”
“Just looking to know what not to do if the opportunity for sexting ever arises.”  It’s light-hearted and completely unlike the grumpy Bucky you’re used to.  Maybe there was something in the air; sex pollen or something.  That’s totally a thing.  “C’mon.”  He says after a moment, eyes twinkling with mirth, soft lips pulling up to the side in a cute smile.  “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
It’s comedy gold, the pair of you running the halls of an apparently secret part of the factory, him in his tight little shorts and you in your panties and spandex t-shirt over a sports bra that makes your rack look like a uni-boob.  You awkwardly tug your rash-guard down over your ass whenever Bucky is behind you and you’re thankful you didn’t wear a thong though that would be better than skid marks.  God, you hoped you’d not shat yourself when they beat you.
You barely encounter anyone until you’re almost at the warehouse; Bucky is so stealthy that even with you hindering him, he only has to subdue one foreman and drag you into a cleaning supply closet once, to avoid a pair of patrolling guards.  Not that you’re complaining, being squashed up against an almost naked super soldier gave you endless thrills, even if he was all stiff and awkward about it.
Bucky stalls before the double doors that lead to the warehouse.  There’s a heavy plastic strip curtain over the exit too, it’s almost opaque with age and hinders your view of what is beyond the meshed safety-glass of the door’s small windows.
“They know we’re coming.” He whispers to you, mere inches away. “There’s a lot of them out there and I can’t keep you safe if you disobey orders.  So, please,” he begs, “please do as I tell you.”
He begs so sweetly, you think, blushing.  But you’re not one for passing an opportunity for inappropriate comments.
“I’ll be a good girl, Daddy.”  You bat your eyelashes, feigning innocent.  “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“Really?”  Bucky doesn’t know whether to blush or be annoyed. You never seem to take anything seriously; it’s always a joke, or something you can twist to your amusement. He gets doubly serious.  “If you die, it’s on me.  You think I haven’t lost enough people over the course of my very long life?  You think I want to wash your blood off my skin later tonight?  Bury you alongside all the other people lost to some fight or other in the name of SHIELD or the Avengers?  I can’t save you if you don’t want to be saved.”
You watch him as he fervently tries to convey the dire nature of your situation, desperate to make you understand that he doesn’t want you to die here, he cares.  His eyes are piercing and your heart is a ricocheting bullet in your chest.  What if you don’t make it out ok?  What if this is it for you?  Both of you? Suddenly, you’re acutely aware that Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, Fist of HYDRA come Fist of Victory, has cleared himself a little spot in your fucked-up soul, and is there to stay. You don’t want him to get killed because of you, but there’s nothing you can do, you’re not trained for this, or at all really.
You nod once, not trusting your voice in that moment.  You could choke on your words or you could vomit all over yourself.  It’s a lottery, so you say nothing.
“Good girl.”  He gives your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “Stay behind me.  Be quick, keep low, don’t hesitate, and for Christ’s sake no disco ball.”  There’s a small smile tempting the corners of his lips, like he’s saying he forgives you for getting you both into this mess.  “Ok, sweetheart, lets go.”
Out in the warehouse there’s a whole host of guards and workers, patrolling and overseeing shipments being loaded into lorries.  It look like it’s important, and probably why the majority of the facility is clear of security staff; the merchandise is being moved.
It’s a mad dash, crouching low as you ghost around the edge of the warehouse.  The huge rows of stacks are packed full of boxes and crates, further obscuring your movement around the area.  Bucky is silent, especially since he’s barefoot; he’s every bit the assassin he’s hyped to be, but you can’t take him seriously padding around almost naked with the top of his crack showing and his junk all jiggly in the front.
A radio crackles to life. Three personel down.  Prisoners have escaped.  Cameras last caught them headed your way.  
They must have found the bodies.
“They’re in here somewhere.” A man says, loud and authoritative. “Search the rows, shoot to kill. They’re not low-life mob goons, they’re Avengers and can’t be allowed to live.”
Well that settles that, you think, gone are the chances of mere bodily harm.  It’s death or death.
You watch in awe as Bucky scales a nearby stack to stalk one of the patrolling guards.  When his opportunity arises he yanks the man up by the throat, snapping his neck in the process.  You can’t help but admire that metal arm, so sleek and powerful.  You groan, light and lusty, earning you a concerned look from the owner of said appendage.
Killing that guard has yielded an assault rifle, another knife and another handgun.  You’d think Bucky would be too smart to arm you but apparently he’s not.  Silently he points to his eye and then to the gun where he shows you how to turn off the safety, puts the gun in your hand and moves behind you to adjust your grip. He aims for you, pressing his chest against your back and you swear you can feel his junk against your ass.  Once he’s satisfied that you aren’t going to injure yourself, he’s gone from behind you, crouching low at the end of the row.
He grabs another guard and drags him backward.  The struggle is louder than he would have liked, and the man got out a partial shout before his throat was closed forever but Bucky is hopeful that he can thin the numbers down enough to make it possible to get you into a truck and away safely.
Bucky shoves the newest body under the nearest stack and beckons you to him.  You both move like a two-carriage train, he’s the engine and you’re the caboose following in his wake.  He only leaves you to commit murder but you feel lost when he’s gone, cold even.  There’s something alluring about the way he uses his body and your mind drifts to other carnal things.
A hand on your shoulder makes you jump.  There’s more of a commotion going on in the warehouse now, not just the sounds of men moving goods and silently searching for two prisoners.  There are massive amounts of footfall, boots hitting the concrete at speed; bringing in reinforcements from outside.
Bucky is about to whisper in your ear when the squeal of a megaphone pierces the air; he stills with his lips almost touching your skin before pulling back with a frown.
“Sergeant Barnes?” Bucky knows that voice, he’d heard it for years, worked with it, even obeyed it on occasion.  “Save the girl.  Turn yourself in.”
You shake your head, panicked, urgent.  Don’t leave me, your eyes are saying.
A noise nearby draws Bucky’s attention and he suddenly forces you to the ground under a stack where he slots himself immediately after; the security team are searching for you, stealthily stalking the rows.  It’s cramped and dusty, the bottom shelf above you so close you can barely breathe without your back brushing the metal supports.  How Bucky fits is beyond you, the man is a beefcake, all bulk and magnificently defined muscle.  Thinking of him naked is the only thing that keeps you from succumbing to claustrophobia. Something brushes your hand and you jolt, eyes snapping to meet his.  He grasps your hand properly and gives it a reassuring squeeze.  In your chest, something gives.  Maybe your permafrost heart is thawing, maybe you’re about to have a stroke, maybe you really like him.
When the coast is clear, Bucky pulls you free and you emerge into a different row, one with fewer boxes, one you’ll likely be spotted in.  You can just see the massive doorway of the warehouse, double sliding doors like a hangar, several half loaded trucks and maybe forty men with body armour and guns.  One guy in the middle is wearing a full-face helmet with a white skull etched across the features.
“Holy shit!  Is that Punisher?”  You hiss before Bucky can clamp his hand over your mouth, the warning look on his face is stern as he leans in to you.
“Crossbones.”  He corrects you, barely audible despite the proximity.  You still don’t know who that is but he’s totally not as cool as the Punisher, so it doesn’t matter.
His hand is still over your mouth but there’s no point in struggling, you couldn’t break free of him even if you tried, so you push your tongue out and squirm it against his palm, making him recoil in disgust.  Your chuckle is silent and his frown turns to the ghost of a wry smile before his attention is fully back on the man he calls Crossbones.
Bucky is taciturn at the best of times but he’s in full diagnostic mode now, assessing the situation. His eyes flicker around the warehouse from yet another new position.  It seems like he’s trying to get you closer to the trucks but you suspect that’s what Crossbones expects.  There are more men closer to the trucks too and Bucky has already had to kill another two in the latest relocation.  The missing men haven’t gone unnoticed and Crossbones is issuing orders, plugging the gaps so you can’t escape.
“I will find you Barnes.” Crossbone’s voice sounds wet through the megaphone, like he’s salivating with excitement at the prospect of getting his hands on you both again.  “If you turn yourself in, maybe I’ll let the girl live.”
Bucky’s eyes are downcast, like he’s actually considering it, but the moment passes and Bucky’s resolve hardens.  He drags you away towards the end of the row.
“The end of this row has a direct line of sight to the exit.  I need a distraction.  Can you do that for me?”  He whispers.
You nod, lips set in determination.  “One disco ball distraction coming right up.”
“On my mark.”
The fluorescent strip lights overhead create more than enough light for you to use.  With your right hand flat against Bucky’s left shoulder blade and your left manipulating the air to create a huge show of dancing lights, you move in tandem.  Bucky steps out of hiding, keeping you just behind him with his metal arm, he surges forward squeezing off four shots.  The way his arm snaps to aim so quickly is astounding, like he has a targeting chip implanted in his brain.  Who knows, maybe he does.  Four men fall and remain still.  Another three shots, then another two and he’s pulling you into another row at a crouching run to the opposite end as he discards the empty gun and pulls out another. He’s saving the assault rifle for Crossbones.
“Again.”  He instructs gruffly.  “Can you get their eyes?”
“It’s not an exact science this, you know?”  You huff and he seems to know that you’re saying you’ll try your best.  Of course you’d try, but you don’t know much about your power, even after the few months you’d been training with the team.  If it meant you both got out of this alive, you’d flash your tits at the enemy for Christ’s sake.
You emerge again, him with the gun in his metal hand this time, stepping out with you at his back. This time they are ready for you and they start firing before Bucky gets off his first shots.  He makes a dash for a fork-lift with a huge pallet of crates sat at floor level.  He shoots his rounds in threes until the 9-round magazine is done.  The gun is discarded as you both slide behind the cover of the pallets.  Machine guns rattle, pummelling the crates with round after round.  Bucky prays the crates don’t contain munitions.
“I make fourteen down. Twenty-two left.”  His breathing smooth where your is ragged.  You curse yourself for being so unfit that even a tiny bit of stress and exertion leaves you heaving air like a couch potato made to climb stairs.  “Crossbones is a problem.”
“What do we do now?”
Bucky has two handguns, four knives and an assault rifle, you have one gun and your rainbows.  This isn’t going to go well, you think.
“You’re going to hide over there and watch the rear.”  He points to your left.
You smirk.  Now isn’t’ the time for joking.
“I’m going to thin the crowd some more and, if I can, take Crossbones out.”  He looks determined but ridiculous in his underpants, dusted with dirt and debris from the floor that’s stuck to the slightest bit of moisture on his skin.  “This might not work.  Run to the left, hide in the stacks again, stay down and don’t expose yourself.”
You nod and he readies himself to break cover.  The shooting has stopped now and it sounds like the guards are changing positions again. His muscles clench, coiling ready to spring.
“Wait!”  You stop him with a hand on his arm, the metal is unnervingly cool.  Tension builds.  “I wanna fuck you until you pass out.”
“Ummmm.”  Bucky blinks, eyebrows raised in surprise but he’s smiling.  “You’re serious?”
“Yeah, well, no, but, uhhhh.”  You splutter, this hadn’t gone well at all.  “I couldn’t let you go without telling you, you know, what Captain Dick Down said to his girl.  You asked, for future reference, and all.”
“Oh.  Right.”  He frowns, turning away again.  “Move when I do.”  He orders stiffly, preparing to move.
Well, shit!
“Bucky, wait.”  Your voice is softer this time, tears prickling your eyes.  There’s a chance that neither of you will make it through this and it’s suddenly hit you that there’s something missing.
“What now?”  He grumbles, turning to find you closer than he expected.
You surge forward, cupping his jaw in your hands as you capture his lips in a kiss that’s both urgent and needy.  You don’t care if he doesn’t respond, you need to feel this before it’s too late. All this tension between you, the jibes and snarky banter, it’s unresolved and sexual in nature.  You want him, and if this is all you can have then so be it.  One stolen moment before it all slips through your fingers, and you both go to your graves.
You’re already pulling back when he snaps back to attention, quickly pulling you back for another kiss. His tongue delicately touches between the seal of your lips and you sigh with longing.
“You ready?”  You pull away but he’s still clearing his head, trying to focus again.
On your feet you’re running out, pumping your legs as fast as you can, heading to the wrong place. Machine guns stutter to life and Bucky is on your heels a second later, fear contorting his features as he scoops you up in his metal arm and returns fire almost blindly.  He’s shielding your body with his own and yips like a wounded pup when the bullets find him.
On your knees beneath the curved shield of his back you see the enemy are far closer than you thought. Everything in you yelled stop and you felt the pressure rise through your body and out, cascading off you like a roiling storm.
The bullets stop but the guns are still firing, muffled by the thickness of the air.  Despite the pain in his lower back and hip, he turns to see what’s happening.  Bullets sluggishly pushing through the air like flies in syrup, all but stopped and slightly redirected on a path that will take them away from a central focal point that is you.  You’re doing this, shielding you both as if by some miracle, your power not only refracting the light causing rainbows but acting like a forcefield.
“As much as I have to break up this little party, I really can’t have you killing my friends.”  The voice of Tony Stark is heard a second before the Iron Man himself and several of his Iron Legion appear and shoot each and every remaining guard with a taser disc, stunning them into unconsciousness.
Crossbones is a different matter and is somehow resistant to the zapping he just got.  He levels a grenade launcher at the stacks near where you and Bucky are crouched and fires.  No air shield will save you from all of that falling metal, but Bucky is still fast despite his wounds.  There’s blood running down his leg in rivulets as he pulls you to safety, and shields you instinctively with his body once more while the sound of explosions and grinding metal fill the air.
“I did not know I could do that.”  You praise yourself.
“I still got shot.”
“It’s just a flesh wound.” You snort.  “Walk it off.”
“You’re a real ray of sunshine, you know that?”
“I must be something special if you took one in the ass for me.”  You wink.  “I hope it heals puckered, then you’ll have two rusty bullet holes.”
“STARK!”  He shouts but pulls you closer to him.  “Evac for one.  She’s walking hom-owwww!”  You pinch the skin on the inside of his thigh viciously enough that he shoves you out of his embrace.
You both stay close on the Quinjet home.  Bucky had been confused as to how Stark had known to mount a rescue mission but when you produced Captain Dick Down’s phone from your uni-boob bra it all became apparent. All of the comms in the facility had been locked down but that was a personal device, one that probably wasn’t allowed to be carried.  Good old Captain Dick Down.
The facility had been put to a far worse use than drugs and weapons trafficking.  iGoddess was a front for human trafficking and also human experimentation.  The restraint chair they had strapped Bucky into had been used to restrain test subjects; Alexander Pearce was trying to replicate the super serum that made Steve and Bucky what they were.
“So, this was a win for us.” Steve said in the debrief.  “Our intel was lacking but it worked out in the end.”
“Says you who didn’t get shot in the ass cheek.”  Bucky grumbled, shifting cautiously on the Mr Glitters cushion you’d given him as a joke.
“I got to see some wonderful scenery,” you grin brilliantly, “so I’m not complaining.”
There had been no further discussion about the kiss you and Bucky had shared when you thought you might die in that place, but that’s ok.  Your daily thrills are made up of making him squirm, and since you two had become closer since your ordeal, you have had several of moments like those.  There’s plenty of time and you’re prepared to play the long game, starting with your newest idea.  You pull out your phone and casually write a text while Steve is rambling on about seized research and assets.
[I’m so turned on right now].
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Bonus add-on for this work:  Captain Dick Down - External link to AO3
Because apparently 7k words wasn’t enough and I just had to try my hand at a little text chat/social media piece.  It’s more of an embellishment.  Enjoy
And if you liked this story, why not try Good Ole Stuffing, a smutty follow on for the same reader/character.
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sidehowriting · 5 years
Text
Crazy
Masterlist in bio!
A/N: Happy new years everyone! I hope 2020 is good to you all. In honor of new years, I went with that theme for the fic! Even if it’s a little late and this was technically for a Secret Santa exchange which implies Christmas but shh...
My Secret Santa is @just-trying-to-survive-marvel! The Challenge was hosted by @bucky-smiles! Like I said, its new years themed and I hope everyone enjoys! 
Italics are the countdown 
Pairings: Steve x reader
Summary: It would be crazy for Steve to be your New Year’s kiss, right? 
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings:  Fluff, like 1 swear, sipping wine
You had every intention of spending New Year’s Eve alone at home. You weren’t upset about that. What could be better than ringing in the new year being extremely comfortable, with your pet, sipping wine? Well, Tony overheard your plans and thought that was a terrible idea. He insisted you come to the New Year’s Eve party he was throwing.
Begrudgingly, you agreed to go. It wasn’t your first choice, but you thought you could have some fun. At the very least, you would still be able to sip your wine. All the wine you could drink.
“And…” Natasha was doing your hair before the start of the party. She offered to help you and you weren’t about to say no to a little bit of pampering. She always looked great so you knew she would have you looking great too. “You can snag that New Year’s kiss with Steve.”
You rolled your eyes. You would have shaken your head too but didn’t want to mess her up. “Right. Sure.”
She gave your hair an unnecessarily rough tug. You yelped in pain and displeasure, but she ignored you. “Stop acting like he doesn’t want to kiss you because he does.”
“I appreciate your optimism Nat, but you’re wrong.” You were glad she couldn’t see how frazzled her statement made you. You were totally smitten for your captain.
“I’ve known Steve longer than you have. The guy is just so slow at making a move. That doesn’t mean that he’s not staring at you every chance he gets, though. Because he is.” She went back to much nicer, softer tugs on your hair. Trying to get it to do what she wanted.
Arguing with her wouldn’t be worth it. You knew this. So instead you remained quiet and let her do her work on your hair.
//
The party itself wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it would be. As you had hoped, there was wine for you to sip. The company wasn’t even as obnoxious as you thought it would be either. They were mostly Tony’s people, businessmen and employees. You didn’t really know any of them, but they mostly kept to themselves. Then there were the Avengers, your coworkers. You always enjoyed their company.
Natasha kept pushing you towards Steve, but you were hesitant. You’ve had a crush on the Super Solider since before you were invited to join the Avengers. There was just something about his charming smile and his blue eyes and his desire to save the world. Not to mention he had a great ass.
He was the first one to really welcome you to the group. He’d spend extra time during training to make sure you understood and knew what you were doing. He always made time for you and listened to whatever frivolous story you told. They others were warm and welcoming, sure, but none quite as attentive as Steve.
You had tried on numerous occasions to tell him how you felt, but each time your heart started beating way too fast and your anxiety spiked out of control. With how professional he was around you, you always doubted he shared the same feelings. Questioning his feeling would also put you off of confessing yours. Why possibly ruin such a great friendship?
Within no time, you were on your second glass of wine. As you started to sip it, Steve came up to you, his own alcohol in his hand. “Is that just for show?” You asked, jerking your head to his glass. You knew he couldn’t get drunk because of the Super Soldier serum. A blessing and a curse, really.
He smiled. “Yeah, if I don’t have a glass of something in my hand I’m constantly asked if I want a drink. This keeps them at bay.”
You giggled, taking another sip of your own drink. Thankful (for now) you still had the ability to get drunk. “That’s pretty clever.”
“Thanks,” he said, swirling the drink around in its crystal glass. “Enjoying yourself?” He asked, eyes going from his drink to yours.
You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “It’s fine. Parties aren’t really my thing. Especially Tony’s fancy ones. I don’t even know half of these people.”
“That’s because you’ve managed to avoid his past few parties. You weren’t forced to mingle with every rich person in the country.” He smiled, almost sounding jealous. His blue eyes were shining brightly, and your heart started to race again. It needed to calm down.
Taking another sip of your wine, you said, “And I had every intention of missing this one, but he, and Nat really, wouldn’t let me.”
“Well, if it means anything, I’m really glad you came.” You could tell he meant it and if you were being honest with yourself, you were happy you came as well.
Talking with him was easy, and it meant you didn’t have to socialize with anyone else. There was just something so nice and familiar about him. Despite your sweaty palms that you kept trying to discreetly wipe on your dress, you didn’t feel anxious. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that you were almost done with your second glass of wine? Whatever the reason, you were happy.
You were so lost in your conversation with Steve that you didn’t notice how much time had passed. “Hey, love birds,” Tony walked up to the two of you, clapping you both on the back. “Got about a minute till midnight. Better pucker up.” As quickly as he came, he disappeared back into the sea of people.
You tried to hide your face in your now finished wine glass, embarrassed by Tony’s comment. A cute pink color ran across Steve’s cheeks too.
“I didn’t realize that much time had gone by,” you said awkwardly.
“Yeah,” he said, “It’s almost New Year’s.”
A silence fell between the two of you that was too painful to keep. “You know,” you said, forcing yourself to chuckle. “Nat has this crazy idea that, maybe, we should kiss on New Year’s?” You weren’t sure how, but it came out as a question that you were suddenly dying to know the answer to.
“You know, Bucky had the same idea,” he replied, and you couldn’t tell if he was agreeing to it or not. “Crazy, right?”
Your heart started to sink. “Yeah, I guess. Crazy.”
But the look in his eyes as he took a step closer to you made you think it wasn’t crazy after all. All around you, you could hear the other’s start counting down to the new year.
Five…
You took a step closer to him as well.
Four…
His eyes were on your lips as yours were on his.
Three…
“This is crazy, right?” You whispered, taking another small step forward. Your blood rushing and pounding in your ears.
Two…
“Crazy,” Steve repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. He started leaning down towards you while you stood up on your tiptoes. Your eyes fluttered shut as the final second ticked away.
One…
As the rest of the crowd cheered for the new year, Steve kissed you. Soft, sweet lips making your mind fuzzy and your nerves light up. It was a chaste kiss that ended a lot sooner than you wanted.
Once you no longer felt his lips against yours you opened your eyes again. Steve was still close to you, his cheeks still tinted pink. “Maybe it’s not so crazy?” You said, biting your lower lip as you locked eyes with him again.
His smile made your heart skip a beat. “Not at all,” he agreed. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”
Your eyes crinkled as you smiled. “Nat did say you tend to take your time.”
“Yeah, she would know.” He kept his eyes trained on you the whole time. “I hope I didn’t wait too long.”
“We’ll just have to make up for the lost time,” you said. Reaching up, you cupped his face, bringing his lips back to your level. You kissed him again, slower, more passionate. His lips fitting so well against yours.
Just before you fully closed your eyes, you could swear you saw Nat and Bucky, right over Steve’s shoulder. They gave each other a quick glance before looking over at you and Steve. Somehow, you had a feeling they set this up. For once, you would have to thank them for not minding their own business.
Tags: @lancsnerd @xxloki81xx @teddybeardoctorr @patzammit
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bucky-smiles · 5 years
Text
Daisy’s 2019 Secret Santa!
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Hello lovely Tumblr Community! Holiday Season is upon us therefore I’m hosting a Secret Santa exchange for both the Marvel and Criminal Minds writing community here on Tumblr :D
If you’d like to enter, here are some simple rules: 
You don’t have to be following me, but please signal boost through a reblog :D
Entries need to be done by 11-23 so that I can pair up people that weekend to give assignments. Fill out this Google Form to officially enter. 
While this is in honor of the holiday season, the due date for your gift will be 1-4-2020. Please try to get it in by this date, it won’t be the best of feelings to your gift receiver if they’ve already submitted their oneshot and haven’t gotten anything in turn. 
Please tag me in the oneshot you write as well as your gift receiver. 
Please put #CMMSecretSanta in one of your first 5 tags when you post your oneshot
I’ll be making a list of everyone who enters so honestly just befriend one another if you’re comfortable. It’s about spreading the joy and love and making new friends! 
New writers are welcome! Veteran writers are welcome! Every writer is welcome! Don’t be discouraged or anxious or anything of the sort! It’s a bunch of lovely people doing lovely things for each other!
Tagging mutuals from both communities to get the word out! Please don’t let this flop!!
@delicatelyherdreams​ @moonbeambucky​ @holy-captain​ @the-canary​ @itsbuckysworld​ @honeybucks​ @dontshootmespence​ @illegalcerebral​ @stunudo​ @buckyofthemyscira​ @suz-123​ @invisibleanonymousmonsters​ @literallyprentissstwin​ @jamessdoll​ @sunmoonandbucky​ @samingtonwilson​ @barnesrogersvstheworld​ @notimetoblog​ @tropicalcap​ @floatingpetals​ @writingsoftheloser​ @coffee-and-stories​ @marvelfanlife​ @tenaciousarcadeexpert​
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peaky-shelby · 5 years
Text
Soulmates in new year
Author's note: helloo, this is my gift for @the-omni-princess and @bucky-smiles secret santa. I wanna apologise for being so late but I had no inspiration to write anything these days and this conceit was even harder for me because I've never written a soulmate au before and I don't think I've done it right to be honest with you so I'm sorry if this is not what you expected. I love youuu and have a very happy new year💖
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When Tony Stark invited you to the Tower for the new year party you weren't as excited as other people would usually be. Tony Stark meant trouble and you had already too much on your plate to deal with whatever problems this party was going to cause you. Let alone that ones again you were alone, no soulmate or boyfriend and one thing you know for sure is that you weren't going to find him among the rich and powerful people that Tony had invited. Your soulmate was probably nowhere near Tony's circles, in your mind he was a gentle and calm man with a cute smile and a usual job.
"(y/n)" Tony's familiar voice stole you away from your daydream, you turned around quickly to meet his gaze, spilling a little bit of champagne on the ground. "can you be more careful with that?"
"yes I'm sorry- you startled me!" you left your glass on the bar. You could feel his eyes scanning you up and down like he was searching for something specific. Then in a low voice he asked if you were OK and all you could do was nod and laugh, that fake laugh you usually used as a shield from other people. A laugh to cover the emptiness you were feeling. Yet his eyes remained on you, not falling for your little play.
"still no soulmate?" he asked and you shrugged. If this was a movie people would have already changed the channel bevayse of your silence. You thought that waving it away with a shrug would make it seem like you didn't actually care about it. Tony knew you better, after 5 years of working together he could see right through you.
"tony-"
"there's somebody I want you to meet!" he said before you could even finish your sentence and then held you by the hand, dragging you with him past the crowded room and out in the balcony. It was mostly empty, except from a coupe in the corner and a man in the other end, sitting alone and looking at his hand. You couldn't see clearly from where you were standing but there was something like a scar on his palm, almost the same as your soulmate mark but you knew better than to get your hope's up.
Tonny pulled you closer to the unknown man and his figure was becoming clearer the closer you got. His blonde hair, his firm shoulders, his... Smell... You knew that smell. Or at least it felt like it. When you were close enough tony inrtuduced you and the man stood up. He was much taller than you thought he'd be and as he looked down on you with his blue crystal eyes, your heart melted like snow in spring.
"I'm Steve" he said shaking your hand and as his palm touched yours, he noticed your mark too. You noticed a sudden spark in his eyes, a sign of hope like he had found something he had been looking for for a long time.
"I'm (y/n)" you replied, you voice baeey above a whisper. His eyes stayed on you, scanning you up and down, there was a question on the tip of his tongue struggling to slip in between his lips. You were so concentrated on him you didn't even realise Tony had left you alone.
"do you think.." he didn't finish the question, the last words got trapped in his mouth. You looked in your hands, your mark and than his. Wondering, thinking, could it be? Then from inside you could hear the people counting down the seconds, the new year was coming, a new life was beginning for everyone.
"six...five.."
You gulped, gathering all your courage in one breath and let the next words slip your lips in sound. "there's only one way to find out." you said and as the crowd cheered and the fireworks colored the sky, he leaned in and kissed you. There was no doubt then, nothing. Electricity rose from your bodies into the air and you both knew you had finally found your soulmate.
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daredevile · 5 years
Text
In The Streets Lies The Dark
Summary: No one wonders about the horrors that prey in the darkness, all the horrors that he witnesses so others don't have the burden of crime haunting their nightmares. [Police AU]
Warnings: None - [Steve Approved]
A/N: This one is for @buckthegrump for @bucky-smiles' Secret Santa writing challenge, I’m so terribly sorry for being late! I’ve re-written this at least three times and ended up here - hope you like it!
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It's the feeling of familiarity that calms his racing thoughts; the cool air caressing his face, the peaceful hum of some melody teasing his ears, the alluring fragrance of home. It dissolves the touch of all the horrors he endures and lives through daily. There's a sense of peace and tranquillity that he finds nowhere else but here - all alone in the corner, away from innocent eyes.
A sigh escapes his lips when the stack of paper-filled case files leaves his tired grip and cascades onto the table, sharp edges of crime scene photos and evidence peaking out of their place. The files reveal nothing less than unsettling descriptions of sinister crimes and damages to victims, all tainted by the lurid strokes of a murderous red. His eyes glide over the words, subconsciously painting the reality onto his recurrent nightmares that embrace him to his slumber.
The abrupt presence of a marble coffee mug diverts his attention to the apologetic barista. Like some primal reflex, his arms subtly shield the contents of the files from curious eyes - purity doesn't need to be scarred by the unfortunate truth, he thinks.
"Long day, Sergeant?"
He laughs. Smiling at the sheer touch of simplicity lingering behind her words, she joins in and he recalls a time when he too was this youthful, this unaware of all malice and prejudice lurking amongst the good. He almost misses it. Going about his day, not regularly looking over his shoulder for suspicious activity, not instinctively reaching for the gun strapped to his side - not caring about anyone or anything but himself.
"Always."
It seems selfish now. Filling his mind with such thoughts after seeing, with his own eyes, all kinds of darkness plaguing the streets of New York. Constantly reminding himself that 'someone should be responsible for the safety of the people' whenever he reconsiders ever accepting this uneven trail of life.
As she turns to retreat to the coffee machine, a mere flash of white grasps his concentration. He studies as you chat with the barista, switching the stack of patient records over to your other hand, a simple dance of friendly smiles when you catch him staring. The buzzing of his phone shreds any chance of introducing himself; he groans, managing to glimpse at the message before rubbing his temple in defeat. And when he realizes you are already gone, the pace of his footsteps begins to fade along with the distant possibility of ever seeing you again.
---------
Breathing in the fresh, crisp breeze in the AM on an early jog is a part of the job cherishes most; the desolate alleys, the streaks of the morning glow across the soaring skies, the sounds of oblivion. Across miles of barren streets, he hears the delicate hustling of the city awakening another day.
The aroma of caffeine hones his senses as he pushes the door, welcome by the array of beaming baristas already preparing his order - another part of the job he admires. The dark creamy liquid swirls around, melting into a cup of sugary bliss, it's naturally routine when he continues to his corner, but realizes it's occupied by you.
Stepping behind the bookshelves, he runs his free hand through his sweaty hair in a pathetic attempt to tame it down. A short breath escapes him before he moves into your line of sight, indicating his presence by clearing his throat.
The quirk of your eyebrows stills his breathing, his eyes flicker to the seat opposite yours, silently asking for permission. And when you respond with a smile, the coffee nearly spills atop the pristine files on the table. There's no conversation, his mind is blank, anxious even as he sips on the scorching hot liquid.
A chuckle escapes your lips, his eyes shift to yours in surprise. The reddening of his cheeks becomes more apparent as you gaze at his reaction and for a moment, he forgets the burning sensation on his tongue.
"Here." You say, nudging a bottle of water in his direction.
He mumbles a 'thank you', grateful for the rush of cool water simmering the sizzle of fire down his throat. Though the feeling of elation disappears as swiftly as it came when you begin to gather your belongings. His arm grasps yours - halting your movements. The soft warmth of your skin beneath his calloused hands jumbles the well-rehearsed line pausing at the tip of his tongue.
"Sergeant?"
"I- would you like to have coffee sometime? With me?" He stutters, noticing your eyes flick to his arm holding yours - he releases it in an instant.
"I'd love to, my shift ends at seven. Is that alright?" Your question goes unheard to his ears and you know it based on the boyish grin he attempts to bite back.
"Yeah - yeah, that's great!" He says, bouncing his foot underneath the table. As you walk past him, the fragrance of your perfume tickles his nose and he takes a deep breath before snapping his head towards the door, "Wait! I don't know your name."
"Y/N." And that's the only thing he hears despite the loud sounds of the city outside.
The blanket of darkness settles over the daylight, the luminous glow of the moon casting a glistening spotlight over the row of buildings. The tiny lamps dispersed across the cafe flicker on and the room is lightened by a faint golden hue. A glance at your phone and the time reads 7:02 pm. He's probably running late, you think, shoving other thoughts away from your stream of consciousness.
Ever so often, your attention focuses on the door as it opens, straightening your posture before realizing it's another stranger that strolls in. Your thumbs fiddle with your phone, lighting up the screen and the time now reads 7:12 pm. 'Doctors end up with doctors for a reason', some relative's words circles in your mind.
He nudges the door with the good shoulder, wincing when a sharp jolt of pain shoots up the left arm. He catches his reflection on the glass pane; dark strands of hair falling out of place, little wounds and gashes scattering his body - he doesn't look too good nor does he feel too good. He stumbles onto the couch, leaning his head back against the velvet and locks eyes with you from across the room.
Wasting no more time, you make your way towards him. He doesn't miss the faint gasp that leaves your lips when you take in his injured state. Your hand reaches out, grabbing the side of his face as you lean forward to examine the cuts on his cheeks. He stares at your features, the deep colour of your eyes, the curl of your eyelashes, the way you bite your lips.
"What's wrong, Doc?" He asks, lightening the mood. But when the distance between your bodies decreases, he holds his breath because he's convinced you can hear the rushing beat of his heart.
"You're late." You say, taking in the rich musk of his cologne. The honeyed tone of his laughter reaches your ears and you forget how long you were waiting in the first place. "And, it's Doc-in-training."
He shrugs in response, "Was a little occupied." The deep timbre of his voice has your stomach twisting for more.
---------
There's a spring in his step as he speeds up the stairs to your apartment. Grace, the barista, had told him you didn't come in for your morning coffee as soon as he had wandered in and examined the room. It's been nearly a week since he last kissed you goodbye before leaving for a case - and he just couldn't wait for another second longer.
With a quick knock against the wood, he waits for the shuffling of your footsteps, the creaking of the door - yet he hears nothing, just pure silence. It reminds him of his morning jogs, but this was nowhere near comforting. He shakes the doorknob in a furious effort to force the lock open. There's a brief pause before he kicks the door, all familiar memories of breaking into houses flooding into his mind - not yours, not you.
He prepares himself to see the worst, to see red all over. Unfortunately or fortunately - he can't decide - the place is as clean as it ever was. Everything placed in its precise spot. He scans through the apartment, with a heaviness in his chest and the blood in his face drains as he walks into your room.
A knife.
On the wall.
A piece of paper.
And he knows exactly where you are.
He's impatient. Eyes flicking to the watch resting on his wrist. Just wishing for all this to disappear and have you safe in his arms, away from all darkness only he sees lying in the streets amongst the good. He ignores the muffling of police commands from the walkie-talkie, darting out the car as the tires screech to a stop. The gun sneaks back into its position, the agony of fear never seeps through his thoughts - but this time, his weakness is you.
The alleys are lit up by the dark and he doesn't notice two guards sneak up from behind and beat him to his knees. He doesn't register the shocks of anguish all over his body as he's brought to the main room and forced on the cold, hard gravel.
He hears whimpers from the side and he recognizes that voice in a heartbeat. No amount of pain he had ever felt in his life matches what trembles its path into his soul. With a glimpse at your frightened form, he longs to erase this memory from your mind, gladly accepting the worst if it meant you could escape from this reality, 'purity doesn't need to be scarred by the unfortunate truth’, he thinks.
"Take me instead." He spits out, immediately feeling a burning sensation as the guards kick him in the sides.
"Bucky! Let me help him, please!" You shout, fighting against the tightness of the ropes.
The sound of devilish laughter follows, hollow footsteps pausing right in front of you. The man forces a gun into your tied up hands, pushing you forward - into Bucky's line of sight.
"You shoot him, or I'll kill you both." He smirks, releasing his hand from your shoulder. You turn at the sound of Bucky's groans, he sends you the same smile he did the first time you met and the gun threatens to speak. He gives you a nod, glancing at his watch once more.
"I'm gonna need your help, Doc." The words float in the air like a magic spell, an unknown strength within you arises and you slam the spine of the gun towards the man behind you.
Heavy footsteps roar from across the shadowy room, you hear the rattling of bullets, the enraged shouts as Bucky rushes to you. He signals the rest of the officers with different instructions and tears the rope's grip on your innocence. Strong arms draw you to an embrace before evacuating the area and you notice the blood streaming out his abdomen. Guiding his hand with yours, you firmly push against the wound, the pressure ceases the blood flow, he flinches from the tension on the cut. Your other hand rests on his shoulder as you stand on tip-toes, sealing the gap between your lips.
---------
He's running. He feels the lack of oxygen in his lungs as his feet hit the cement in a hurry. The watch glares at him with a dull 5:55 am when the cool air surrounds him again, he feels secure. Grace motions to the corner and his signature million-dollar grin makes an appearance when he sees you reading. The feeling of familiarity swirls in his mind, and all the darkness fades into the past.
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averyrogers83writes · 5 years
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Festival
Title: Festival (Pt 2) Author: @averyrogers83 Warnings: Mostly fluffy stuff, *Death by fluff* Pairings: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 202 Prompts: Accidentally swapped phones (pt 1) & Fall Festival (pt 2) Summary: When you accidentally collide into a man at the coffee shop your digital world gets confusing when you end up with a hot stranger’s phone. A/N: This is for the @sgtbxckybxrnes #taysfallfics challenge as well as secret santa gift for @honeybucks who enjoys fluffy things with Bucky for the @bucky-smiles​ #cmmsecretesanta exchange. I hope you like it. This is a two part fic. Thank you to @shield-agent78 for helping me with the concept of this and my beta.
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Last thing you wanted to do was jeopardize his career so you quickly explained to Steve that the two of you accidentally swapped phones at the coffee shop the day before and unfortunately was unable to reach him to arrange for a meet up to swap them back. 
So before hanging, you made arrangements with Steve on when and where to meet so they could swap phones.
Around 7:00P.M. you and your friends went to the annual fall festival.  You went every year since you were fifteen, spending the night riding roller coasters and playing carnival games.  You were just about to do the ring toss when a familiar slate blue eyed hottie showed up all smiles.  He stood there with his friends Sam and who you could only persum was Steve. 
“Hey you. Glad you made it. I think I have something of yours.” you held out the identical phone to yours and handed it to him.  
Once you’ve swapped phones.  The rest of the night was spent going on a haunted hay ride and more roller coaster rides and lame games.  By the end of the you had swapped phone numbers and had made arrangements for another date. 
@bucky-smiles​ @honeybucks​ @sgtbxckybxrnes​ @shield-agent78​ @i-love-marvel3000​ @hotoffthepressfics​ @bloodiedskirtts​ @patzammit​ @dj-lowkey​ @chuuulip​ @ellaprime68​ @buckysforeverprincess​ @drakelover78​ @caramell0w​ @loricameback​
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searchingforbucky · 5 years
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The Research Paper ✎
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Summary: In your last year of college you decide to take a History class. The main weight of your grade is a research paper that you’re able to work on throughout the quarter, not bad right? Except for the fact that you don’t work on it, and now you know nothing about the subject. In a desperate bid to save your grade, you’re forced to rely on your friend Steve Rogers asking his best friend Bucky Barnes to help you. What could go wrong?
Pairings: Bucky x Plus sized!Reader
Warnings: College, Procrastination, Insecurity
I: Match Made in Heaven
II: The Final Stretch 
III: Spring Break
IV: The Truth Comes Out
So this is the masterlist for my entry for @bucky-smiles Secret Santa! I got @thebookwormslytherin ! :) This is the first story I’ve ever written, and as a plus size college student myself, you’ll be able to see where I took a lot of personal inspiration to write this. There’s gonna be 4 short chapters, I thought it would be easier to break it into short chapters instead of a choppy one shot. It’s obviously not an award winning story, but I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you like it! 😊💖
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