#Y’all be extra thirsty like y’all don’t be adults on the other side of the screen.

[btsugarush]

why do you keep posting new story ideas and never actually write them, you've like tons of them and you haven't even started writing the 000

Why are you worried about what I do on my blog? It’s called wip (work in progress), and I’m allowed to post them. The “000” are teasers and I’m currently writing those as we speak, so you sound dumb talking about “you haven’t even started writing the 000”. Don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing but fixed your fingers to type this corny ass ask. I’ve already stated that ain’t shit getting started until Gangsta is finished. If you got a problem you’re very welcome to get the fuck on, bookie. You will not be missed or remembered. 🩷

[hcwlingccmmandcs]

So Right

Modern Day!AU

(Gif Not Mine)

Pairing: Modern!Bucky x Reader (No specified gender, either. Yay!)

Word Count: 1.6K (It was meant to be a drabble... oops, I guess...)

Warnings: There’s mild swearing, I think? Buck being a dork.

A/N: I totally forgot I had this. I wrote it a couple weeks ago, after I entered the 1K AU Writing Challenge hosted by the amazing @itsbuckysworld. Congrats, doll! I’m so happy for you! You deserve all of it! My prompt was “Kiss Cam moment but this is our first date” and I think I hit it right on the head (but maybe not because I got super wordy with leading up to it what we all wanted to happen. Anyways, I hope y’all like it. 

Tags: Just tagging a couple mutuals and other blogs I follow and look up to because I don’t know who wants to be on my permanent taglist yet... @buckyforbreakfast @borkingbarnes @cravingmarvel @captain-ariel-barnes @captainrogerss @bionic-buckyb @bucky-plums-barnes (If you want to be tagged in everything I write, please let me know! Conversely, if you want to stop being tagged, let me know as well.)

You never pegged Bucky to be a baseball fan. He was this dark mysterious guy from the apartment above you, and always wearing something made of leather or denim. His tattoos were daunting, to say the least.

But you couldn’t lie. All of that didn’t deter you from wanting to know him more. If anything, the stark contrast between his appearance and his personality was something you couldn’t get out of your head, nor could your head wrap around it.

His dark, slicked back hair and his choice of fashion reminded you strongly of the 1950s greaser style, but he had a bit of a modern twist. Tattoos crawling up his left arm and scattered over his chest, an extra piercing or two in his ears, his fixation with his hair, none of those screamed ‘baseball fanatic’ to you.

But there he was, sporting a (tight, might you add) white Brooklyn Cyclones baseball-style shirt with red three-quarter sleeves and a dark blue Cyclones cap. That’s right, the ‘bad boy’ traded in his distressed denim jacket for a hat. You’ve never seen him wear a hat before in all the time you’ve been living under him.

“You like what you see?” he chuckled, noticing you weren’t answering his previous question because you were ogling him. Your eyes blew wide and you awkwardly coughed.

“Wh-what?” you asked, feeling your body heating up out of embarrassment. He just smiled that same award-winning grin he always had around you.

“I asked if you were ready to go. Are you?” he repeated himself politely. No conversation with Bucky had ever been anything but polite and maybe a bit flirty.

“Oh uh... Yeah. I’m ready,” you tell him before stepping out of your little apartment to lock it up. “I just didn’t expect you to wear that…”

“Wear this? Doll, we’re going to a baseball game. Why wouldn’t I wear this?”

“To be honest, I didn’t think you owned anything other than your usual style.”

To that, he let out a loud laugh. “Dollface, there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he says, casually but ever so gently sliding his right hand into your left. You swore his eyes sparkled when you let your fingers tangle with his. “But that’s what dates are supposed to help with, right? Getting to know each other better?” You nodded a little bit, letting him lead you down the flights of stairs to the parking lot.

“Who’s driving?” you asked him, seeing his sleek black and red Harley Davidson motorcycle parked next to your crappy, hand-me-down, mid-size sedan. He shrugged, looking down at you with a fond expression. “I don’t mind driving.” He nods, slowly letting go of your hand to stand at the passenger’s side door. Your hand aches at the loss of his touch, but you try to ignore it as you get into the driver’s seat and start up the engine.

The entire ride to the stadium was filled with the two of you talking about Bucky’s secret obsession with baseball. He told you all about how his grandpa used to take him and his sister to the Cyclones games when his mom was working on the weekends, and a couple of the antics they got up to at the stadium. When you two weren’t talking, the radio would fill the silence, but that wasn’t very often. Bucky gave you directions on where the best spot to park was, and once you shut off the car, Bucky nearly squealed.

“What? I’m excited!” he defended himself when you snorted.

“I can tell.”

“Oh shush. Let’s get inside.” And with that, he slipped his hand back into yours as you walked towards the entrance. You almost sighed in relief and the feeling of his hand in yours, but were too busy watching him get more and more giddy the closer you got to your destination.

After you got your tickets scanned and Bucky dragged you through the turnstiles, you were finally inside the stadium. People flooded the entire place, enough to make your breath hitch for the first time that night. Bucky noticed, and gently pulled his hand away from yours to drape his entire arm around your shoulders. The weight of him against you, and the heat radiating off of him, was enough to let you breathe again. You quietly thanked him, but he just smiled and told you it was no problem, along with calling you doll.

He led you to your seats, keeping you close to him and leaning his head closer to yours. He didn’t speak more that a few words like ‘this way’, ‘excuse us’, or ‘up there’. Once you sat down together, he held both of your hands again, letting you adjust to everything around you. When you did, you let yourself lean into him, your head resting gently on his shoulder. He smiled brightly at you.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” he asked. You could only nod. “Good. Stay here, yeah? I’ll go get us some food.” After you nodded again and lifted off of his shoulder, he patted your hands softly before heading back down to the main concourse for concessions.

While he was away, you let yourself study your surroundings. Groups of adults, all with beers in their hands, laughed together as they waited for the game to start. Little kids sat with their parents or other guardians eating soft pretzels or nachos or those little balls of ice cream. Nearly everyone was wearing red or blue, with the same logo on Bucky’s shirt and hat. With all the different pieces of Cyclones wearable merchandise all around you, you felt a little out of place.

“What’s wrong, sugar?” Bucky asked, suddenly appearing next to you with his arms full of food and soda bottles. He must’ve seen the look on your face.

“It’s nothing, Buck. Here, let me help,” you tell him, reaching up and taking a bottle of cola and a paper boat from his grasp. He sits next to you, setting his own soda down and placing a boat of nachos between his thigh and yours. He gives you one long look before pointing down to your boat of food.

“I just got us the special. And nachos to share,” he says. “I hope you’re okay with that. I didn’t really know what you liked, but I-”

“Bucky,” you stop him from continuing to ramble, putting your hand on his forearm. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” He smiles at you, leaning into you slightly before digging into his food.

If you thought just riding in a car with Bucky was cute, eating hotdogs and cheese-covered tortilla chips with him was downright adorable. He’d get mustard or ketchup or cheese on his chin or cheek with nearly every bite. You’d, of course, giggle at this, reaching over with a napkin and wiping his face. His stubbly cheeks darkened the first time you did it, but then he just seemed to be doing it on purpose after that so you would touch him again. When you pouted playfully at him because he took the chip you were going for, he almost ate it, before feeding it to you with that damn smirk he does all the time.

You probably looked like the sappiest couple in the whole stadium, but did you care? Not really. Were you even a couple? Not yet.

When people shrouded in more Cyclones gear sat on your other side, after you two were done eating, you nearly frowned. Now you just looked like a sore thumb in a sea of reds and blues.

Bucky, noticing your mouth twitch a little, pulled the cap off his head and put it on yours. His chocolate hair was a mess, but he didn't seem to mind once he saw that hat on your head. You looked at him, shocked and confused for a moment, until you saw him smiling at you the way you’d always wanted to be smiled at.

“Keep it,” he blurted, his eyes flicking to the hat before meeting yours again.

“What? Buck-”

“Keep the hat. It looks better on you, anyways,” he tells you, gently tapping the bill of it.

“Thank you,” was all you could say before a voice announced the game was starting. Your date smiled at you with that same longing smile for a moment before turning away to watch the game.

You had to admit, being at the baseball game with Bucky was pretty amazing. Whenever something big happened, he would jump to his feet in excitement or in anger, either clapping loudly or swearing out the umpire. Whenever you didn’t quite understand what happened, he would lean in close to you and explain it to you.

The game had just finished it’s eighth inning, and the announcer was talking animatedly through the speaker system. A live feed of the crowd appeared on the large screen behind the outfield, with pink and red hearts framing the visual. The words ‘Kiss Cam’ were shouted my the announcer and everyone around you clapped.

The first couple chosen was a little older, but obviously older than both you and Bucky. They shared a quick but sweet peck. The second couple was a young girl standing next to the mascot, who got down on their knees to get a peck on the cheek from the girl. Everyone aww’d for that one.

The third couple appeared on the screen, and you took a second to register that it was your face staring back at you. Bucky looked at you with a smile, tilting his head in silent question.

Ever the gentleman…

You could barely nod and Bucky gingerly cupped your face in his hands before his lips landed softly on top of yours.

You nearly melted into his warm touch, your hands resting on his chest as he kissed you. There was applause all around you, but you didn’t register it. In that moment, it was only you and Bucky.

He pulled away, smiling like a complete dork and chuckling.

“Wow…” you exhaled.

“Wow is right, doll. So right.”