Dating Bucky Barnes Would Include…

AN: I can’t believe I haven’t done one of these for Bucky yet! Warning, this turned out to be more of a slow burn than I intended. Oops!

• For the majority of his life, Bucky Barnes has fought.
• When he wasn’t fighting, he was atoning for the sins that followed whatever battle he survived.
• Post-Snap, Bucky threw himself into making amends.
• Sometimes it would be doing small acts of kindness for strangers.
• Other times it was moving across the hall from a man whose life you played a part in making terrible.
• Balance was never his strong suit.
• Dr. Raynor was little help in his atonement as she was less of a therapist and more of a well of one-liners about Bucky’s social life.
• It was an easy mark though, as Bucky knew more ghosts than actual, living people.
• Perhaps that was why Dr. Raynor’s teasing hit him so hard.
• Perhaps that was why her comments on the topic lingered in his mind on the nights when his terrors were quiet.
• “Do you have any friends? What about Sam? Have you heard from him?”
• “You should try meeting someone, James.”
• “Did you speak to anyone new over the weekend?”
• Every time, Bucky would reply, “no, just Yori and the bartender.”
• “The bartender nice?”
• Every time, Bucky would shrug and say, “I dunno. I’ll find out next time.”
• Then, ‘next time’ would come and Bucky wouldn’t find out.
• It was like clockwork.
• Until it wasn’t.
• Until you.
• It’s during Bucky’s usual dinner and drink with Yori, when he least expects it.
• Izzy’s is a dive, a well-too-hidden gem covered in dust kicked up by those who lived in the city, walked the streets, called it home.
• That means that Izzy’s is typically empty, but if it is busy, it’s full of regulars.
• Leah, the bartender Bucky didn’t know was nice, was the only employee anyone seemed to see.
• So, when you shadowed her behind the bar, eyes wide and drinking how she made each concoction for Izzy’s patrons, you stuck out.
• That was why Bucky watched you at first, listened as Leah taught you the ropes.
• “Alright, so, show me how to make it.”
• “Like you just did?”
• “Yes, Y/N. Like I just did.”
• Bucky smiled then.
• He smiled at your clear nervousness, the sound of your voice, the first utterance of your name.
• Yori was talking about something, reciting some story that he already told
• and Bucky was half listening, his eyes flicking up from the counter top to you.
• Once, you locked eyes with him.
• You smiled and Bucky felt his own smile widen.
• That was before he lost his nerve and quickly looked away.
• He wanted to talk to you, but he got in his head about it; as he always did.
• Plus, your training finished and you walked out of Izzy’s with only one last glance in his direction.
• He must have imagined it.
• That’s what he told himself.
• It would be pointless anyway.
• What was the likelihood that he would see you again?
• Whenever he and Yori went to the bar, Leah was the tender.
• You would have a different shift, so he would never see you again.
• But then, he did.
• You were behind the bar, worriedly getting people their drinks as Bucky and Yori walked through the door.
• As soon as they sat down, your eyes met.
• An awe-struck silence fell over the two of you.
• Bucky isn’t one for believing in a higher power, not after all he’s seen and been through, but he wonders, at that moment, about fate.
• You wonder the same as the shared stare continues.
• Then Yori would break the spell and ask, “where’s Leah? Leah works on Wednesdays.”
• “I’m covering for her for a few weeks.”
• “You’re new,” Yori said before he glanced at Bucky with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
• “I am,” you laughed and followed the, seemingly, older man’s eyes to Bucky. “And you two are regulars, right? That’s what Leah told me.”
• “Yeah,” Bucky replied, putting on a nervous smile.
• He cursed himself for being so out of practice.
• He cursed himself for being so suddenly taken by you.
• Luckily, Yori could care less about Bucky’s ability to flirt with people.
• “You two should go on date.”
• Immediately, you and Bucky looked at Yori, chuckling warily before you glanced back at each other.
• “Yori, c’mon, that’s not,” Bucky shook his head.
• “We don’t even know each other’s names.”
• Well, Bucky did know yours, and that put you at a disadvantage.
• He didn’t like that, didn’t like that you didn’t know him.
• Before Yori could introduce Bucky to you himself, Bucky extended his right hand (his flesh hand) out to you.
• “I’m Bucky.”
• Your eyes flicked from his fingers to his eyes before you smiled.
• “Y/N,” you replied, taking his hand.
• “There you go. Now date,” Yori proclaimed, “life is short.”
• “Alright, easy now,” Bucky said when you dropped his hand. “I’m sure Y/N is a busy person, especially with this job.”
• Bucky gestured around to the near-empty bar as he spoke and, much to his surprise, you laughed.
• “Oh yes, so busy.”
• Yori waved a dismissive hand and went on to ask for a drink and some food for himself.
• Bucky watched quietly as you worked, pulling Yori’s favorite beer out and darting into the back kitchen to place his food order in.
• You were a worried whirlwind of energy and, every so often, as you filed in and out of the adjoining kitchen, you met his eyes.
• It took all Bucky had to focus on Yori and his complaining about the neighbors.
• When you interrupted to give them the food they had ordered, Bucky was overwhelmed with relief.
• He had an excuse to look at you then, to speak to you.
• “Thank you,” was all he could muster, along with a shy smile.
• The evening continued like that: a collection of small, stolen glances and the tension of Yori’s words between you.
• Bucky got lost in his thoughts, questioned whether you felt it too.
• Though, as always, Yori grounded him back to reality by the end of the night.
• Tipsy and unsteady, the old man stood from his stool and grumbled something about heading to bed.
• Bucky was helping Yori towards the door when he saw you again.
• You were wiping down a newly emptied table near the exit and you lifted your head, eyes meeting his.
• It took all Bucky had to explain, “I gotta get him back.”
• “Okay,” you said, the faintest of frowns on your lips. “You two have a goodnight.”
• “Yeah, you too.”
• Bucky quickly guided Yori out the door before the man could press a possible date any further
• That didn’t mean that Yori didn’t mention it on the walk home.
• “You should have asked.”
• “I’m not looking for…for that right now,” Bucky pressed, shaking his head.
• Yori shook his head too, but he was chuckling, a lot.
• With furrowed brows, Bucky watched him as he succumbed to an almost full-belly laugh.
• “Oh, you’re a young man,” Yori managed through his chuckle, “you know nothing.”
• Bucky huffed in amusement because he couldn’t deny that.
• Despite being a century old, Bucky Barnes had not truly lived.
• “You do not look for love,” Yori continued, “it finds you.”
• The old man’s words struck Bucky in the chest
• harder than any punch or shock or bullet ever had.
• He barely had time to recover before Yori continued, but with his focus shifted to the noisy neighbors once again.
• Bucky was glad for the distraction, though your smile lingered in the back of his mind as he helped Yori to his door.
• “I’ve got it. I’ve got it.”
• “I’m sure you do,” Bucky drawled disbelievingly.
• “You don’t,” Yori returned, opening the door this his apartment.
• “What?”
• Yori stopped at the entrance of his home and let out a long, heavy sigh.
• “That Y/N. You didn’t make a date.”
• “We’ve been over this. I didn’t but-“
• “What a shame.”
• “Yeah…a shame,” Bucky echoed, tension bleeding out from his body.
• There’s a long pause where the two men sit in the quiet, each one waiting for the other to say something else.
• Yet, they both thought better of it.
• “Goodnight,” Yori said, patting Bucky’s shoulder.
• Bucky held his breath at the touch, a flood of terrible, hazy memories flooding back and renewing his stress.
• In a rush, Bucky replied, “Night, Yori.”
• With a nod of acknowledgment, the old man disappeared within the dimness of his apartment.
• Bucky took a trembling breath before he turned towards his own door.
• His hand reached out to twist the knob, but the action stirred a feeling within him.
• A memory of a few hours before Bucky’s hand extending out towards you as you smiled at him.
• In turn, his hand falls back down to his side and he shakes his head as if to clear it.
• Bucky turned and started back down towards the entrance of the apartment complex.
• A walk would clear his head.
• At least he hoped that it would.
• Yet all Bucky got was rained on.
• A storm rolled in, bringing small, isolated showers with it.
• By the time he was nearby Izzy’s (one of the only places he knew how to get to), Bucky feared getting soaked.
• So, he tucked beneath the oning that hung outside the door to the bar.
• The thick, dark green fabric provided a little protection from the rain, and Bucky savored the fleeting feeling of safety it supplied.
• It lasted only a minute or so before the door to Izzy’s swung open
• and, of course, it had to be you that walked through.
• “You’re back!” You quickly recollected yourself, shaking your head. “I mean, you’re back.”
• “I’m back,” Bucky said, unable to keep himself from smiling at your presence.
• You were smiling too, before confusion furrowed your brow and forced your lips into a frown.
• “Everything alright? Yori okay?” You asked, concern dripping from your tone like the landed rain drops slipping off of the oning.
• “Yeah, yeah. I just wanted to…”
• When Bucky met your eyes, he realized he wanted you.
• But he couldn’t say that.
• He was out of practice when it came to flirting but that would be…creepy.
• “I wanted to apologize for him. He doesn’t have a filter sometimes.”
• You laugh and Bucky felt a heaviness, one he didn’t know he was carrying, lift.
• “It’s alright.”
• A small quiet fell over the two of you, with Bucky just looking at you and you looking at him.
• When you both realized that you were staring, you both chuckled and looked away.
• Your eyes drifted towards the road, the rain that gathered in puddles in the pavement; and Bucky watched as you extended your hand.
• With an open palm, you tested the frequency of the rain fall with a grace so akin to a fairytale that Bucky was winded.
• “You don’t happen to have an umbrella with you, do you?”
• Bucky heard your question, but he only managed to find himself and the words to reply when you turned your head to look at him again.
• “I-I don’t.”
• “You forgot it in your magic Mary Poppins bag?”
• The way you smiled made Bucky think it was a joke, but he had missed the punchline, the reference.
• When you saw that twinge of confusion in his smile, you frowned.
• “You don’t know Mary Poppins?”
• “And if I don’t?”
• Your lips quirked up once more into a wide smile.
• Bucky watched as you teeth sunk into your bottom lip, a thoughtful expression as your eyes flicked from him to the door of Izzy’s.
• “If you wanna come inside to escape the rain, I could explain the reference.”
• Then it was Bucky’s turn to put on a thoughtful expression; though, only for a moment because he almost immediately replied.
• “Yeah, sure.”
• “Great,” you returned and Bucky opened the door and went inside Izzy’s for the second time that day.
• Before you were both inside, you paused and met Bucky’s eyes again.
• “This isn’t a date, is it?”
• “Not unless you want it to be.”
• You never responded to that half-assed offer of a date and
• a strange sort of ritual started formed.
• On the days you worked and Bucky and Yori went to eat, Bucky would drop off Yori and come back.
• Bucky would feign ignorance, tell you that he spent time out of the States for work with family and missed a lot of American pop culture.
• You would tell him all you knew, explain movies he missed, recommend TV shows, books, music anything you thought he would like.
• “I’ve heard of One Direction.”
• “You have?”
• “They trend on that bird app every so often.”
• “You have Twitter?”
• “Not anymore. I never thought people posting text could be so loud….and annoying…and confusing.”
• Nights were spent just talking, exchanging stories.
• Though, of course, Bucky kept a majority of his tales close to his chest.
• In the vaguest of terms, he mentioned Steve, harrowing winters, traveling in the army, and even partaking in a ‘clinical trial’ headed by Russian scientists.
• He told you everything he could without giving himself away.
• He didn’t want to be the ghost of the Winter Soldier, not anymore.
• He just wanted to be Bucky Barnes to you, some guy you met at a bar because a sweet, but sour, old man told you both that you should date.
• There were a few times that he slipped back into a more combat-ready state.
• For instance, the night he almost told you everything, you didn’t greet him outside of the door to Izzy’s.
• He missed your smile at first, then his mind wandered to every terrible possibility.
• Quickly, he rushed inside the bar and scanned the establishment for you.
• You were neither sat that the table you usually shared with him
• nor anywhere in the seating section.
• You were still behind the bar, wearing a twisted expression as a man leaned over the counter and far too close to you.
• Your brow was furrowed in disgust, lips in a scowl, but your eyes were nervous, wary of the leaning man’s intentions.
• That was enough for Bucky.
• He stormed over and circled around the man so he could rest his left hand (his Vibranium hand) on the creep’s shoulder.
• “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but,” Bucky began, “you’re making the best bartender in the borough a little bit too uncomfortable.”
• The man turned and glared at Bucky, but said nothing.
• Bucky shook his head and added, “we can’t have that.”
• With a squeeze of his hand, metal fingers crushed into the meat of the man’s shoulder and he yelped.
• “Watch it,” he spat, trying to recover a facade of dignity after his somewhat embarrassing, high-pitched shout of pain.
• The man shifted his angry eyes from Bucky to you and then back again before he turned around and darted out of Izzy’s.
• “You’re the one that needs to watch it,” Bucky called after him.
• After he was sure that the man was gone, probably high-tailing it down the block, Bucky looked to you.
• There you were, your expression turning up into the smallest of smiles as you began to speak.
• “Best bartender in the borough?” You pressed a hand to your chest, “I’m honored.”
• “It’s the truth,” Bucky said, taking a seat on the barstool directly across from you.
• “Does the hero want a drink?”
• “I’m not a hero,” Bucky mumbled, shaking his head.
• “You just exiled the bad guy,” you pointed out, gesturing towards the door.
• “I’ve exiled good guys too. Sometimes worse.”
• Your brow furrowed as you looked into Bucky’s eyes and asked, “but you don’t anymore?”
• Bucky huffed, in his own disbelief, and shook his head.
• “I try not to, yeah.”
• “Well, if you’re trying then I’d call you a hero,” you said, your expression exuding a warmth Bucky hadn’t felt in years. “Tonight, I’d call you myhero.”
• Right then and there, Bucky wanted to kiss you.
• Instead, he choked out, “so, you’re working an extra shift tonight?”
• “Leah’s running late. I’ll be off soon if you wanna hang out.”
• “Great, yeah.”
• Until Leah arrived, Bucky watched you work: pouring glasses of color drinks, popping open beer bottles, and shuttling food from the kitchen to the customer.
• When you were free, Bucky could tell you were exhausted.
• “Why don’t we skip tonight. You look beat.”
• You gave him an unamused smile, “thanks, Bucky.”
• “I didn’t mean it like that,” he explained in a rush, “just that-”
• “I’m just giving you shit,” you said with a wave of your hand.
• Bucky nodded quietly and you both started towards the door.
• He held it open for you and, as you passed through, you caught sight of the night sky and men across the street, loitering in a nervous way.
• Still in the doorway, you turned and looked up, into Bucky’s eyes.
• “Walk me home?”
• “Of course,” Bucky replied before he could really register what he was saying.
• He didn’t mind it, obviously.
• As you walked, you both talked about strange happenings.
• Bucky even mentioned therapy, as he dropped the newest bit of wisdom Dr. Raynor had provided him with.
• “So, she basically just told you to get a life?”
• “Basically,” Bucky agreed.
• “Therapy is great, it’s good you’re in it, but…she sounds awful!” You threw your arms in the air for emphasis and Bucky was awestruck by how the streetlamp light cast you, in that pose, under a yellow spotlight.
• “She kinda is,” he murmured, unable to entirely refocus himself.
• Before you could delve deeper into how awful Raynor was, you arrived at your front door.
• “This is me,” you said through a groan.
• “You don’t sound happy about that,” Bucky chuckled.
• “I feel bad that our night was wasted.”
• “Not wasted,” Bucky said softly, “we still hung out.”
• At his words, your disappointment metamorphized.
• Frown lines turned smile lines and eyes grew bright, hopeful.
• “Yeah, you’re right.”
• There was a pause then, with just the two of your staring at each other as the dark of night mingled with the sounds of the city.
• In the distance, music played and the fast tempo coaxed Bucky’s heart to pick up the same fast beat.
• “Well, I better-”
• “Yeah, you better head to bed.”
• You started up the steps but stopped when you were on the stair that put you exactly eye level with Bucky.
• Bucky was about to ask what was the matter when you leaned in and pressed the lightest of kisses to his cheek.
• It was so fast that Bucky swore he imagined it;
• but when you pulled away, eyes still bright and bottom lip tucked between your teeth, thinking, analyzing his reaction, Bucky knew he hadn’t.
• “Night, Bucky.”
• “Goodnight, Y/N.”
• Bucky lingered, made sure you got inside alright, and then started back down the street, towards his apartment, a little extra pep in his step.
• Your ritual of night talks continued, but there was no mention of the sweet kiss.
• Not that Bucky minded; though he did find himself lingering on you more and for longer as you talked about everything and anything.
• It continued like that for a while until Sam gave over the shield.
• That spent Bucky into a spiral and not even you could pull him out.
• He never missed a night talk but you could tell he was distant.
• Onthe night he told you everything, you asked about his awayness.
• “Are you okay? You’re quiet, but you’re normally not this quiet.”
• “Yea, I-” Bucky stopped when he met your gaze.
• He couldn’t lie to you. Not anymore.
• “I’m not okay,” he admitted, “there’s…there’s something I have to tell you.”
• “Alright,” you said, settling into your chair, “tell me.”
• “It’s actually a lot of somethings.”
• “I’m ready when you are.”
• Bucky took a moment, thought of you the night you kissed his cheek, and began to tell you his story in all of its gritty detail.
• There were points where you were silent (when he told you how old he really was), where you gasped (when he told you about falling off the train), where you smiled (when he recounted his friendship with Steve), where you almost cried (when he told you the truth of his ‘clinical trial’ with HYDRA).
• When he showed his arm, you reached across the table and took his hand.
• His breathing shuddered as you intertwined your flesh fingers with his metal ones.
• “Can you feel my hand?”
• “What?”
• “You said Vibranium is like a living metal, right? It can sense vibrations and absorb energy. Can you feel my hand?”
• Bucky’s brows furrowed, “I’ve never tried that before.”
• You studied him, your joined hands, quietly and Bucky took that opportunity to really focus.
• He wasn’t entirely sure of all the capabilities Shuri incorporated into his new arm.
• He knew the port the arm attached to was loosely connected to nerve endings to give him more control, but he didn’t know if that would allow him to feel.
• So, he closed his eyes and really tried.
• He wasn’t sure that he felt the warmth of your palm and the dull beating of your heart or if he just imagined it.
• “I feel something,” he said, eyes opening to meet your gaze, “but I don’t know if it’s ‘cause I really want to or…”
• He trailed off, lost in your eyes.
• “It’s something,” you comforted and gave his metal hand a soft squeeze.
• You held his hand as he continued to tell you everything.
• He told you about the most recent happening, with Sam and the shield.
• “Steve gave it to him.”
• “He has a reason for doing what he did,” you said, giving his hand another squeeze.
• “But that shield is…”
• “It’s part of your friend, but it’s not everything he left behind.”
• Something in your words stirred an old ache in Bucky’s chest, but he nodded.
• “Yeah, but I think,” he sighed, “I think I have to talk to him. Figure out what he’s doing.”
• “How long will talking to Sam take?”
• “I don’t know.”
• You nodded and pulled your hand from his as you said, “well, you owe me a night out when you get back.”
• “I’m okay with that,” Bucky said, and he felt every ounce of dread he carried with him ebb.
• Then Bucky goes off to find Sam, talk about the shield, they meet John Walker, the Flag Smashers, and….well, you know the rest.
• And if you don’t, Bucky is sure to tell you all about it when he returns.
• He’s a touch tanner than he was when you last saw him, and when he tells you about Sam’s home in Louisiana, he beams as much as the sun.
• “Sounds like you really liked it there.”
• “It was nice, nice to get away from the city,” he glanced around Izzy’s as he spoke, “but it’s better to be back here. Back with you.”
• You smiled bashfully and Bucky himself felt his face grow warm.
• “I’m glad you’re back,” you managed, shyness lacing your tone, making it feather-light.
• There’s a soft pause, where the two of you meet each other’s eyes then look away….before looking back again.
• Bucky surprises himself when he breaks the silence.
• “So, what do you want to do for that night out I owe you?”
• “I don’t know,” you admitted, “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
• “As much as I missed this place, I don’t think we should go to Izzy’s.”
• You laughed and Bucky almost sighed with relief.
• He had missed the sound of your laughter.
• “Yeah, you’re right. Somewhere different….I don’t know where.”
• “How about I pick you up at your place tomorrow at five and you trust me to pick the place?”
• “Alright, but do you remember the way to my place?”
• “No,” Bucky said with a smile, “but if I walk you home again tonight, I’ll be able to remember it.”
• You laughed again and sighed, “that was smooth, Barnes. Very smooth.”
• After another hour or so of talking, Bucky walked you home.
• “Are there any places, besides Izzy’s, that you don’t want to go to?”
• “Umm, a funeral home, pet cemetery…”
• “Okay, okay, I get it. No spooky places.”
• You raised a hand and shook your head, “no, I’m cool with spooky, just not sad.”
• “Spooky, not sad,” Bucky echoed. “Noted.”
• By that point, you both reached your home and were lingering outside.
• Passersby glanced at the two of you, probably eyeing your closeness.
• You were so close that you could feel each other’s heat.
• “So, out here, tomorrow at seven?” You asked.
• “Yeah,” Bucky replied, “tomorrow at seven.”
• He watched as you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and let your eyes flicking across his face, thinking.
• Later, down the line, you would tell Bucky, that you were debating whether to kiss him that night.
• You ultimately decided against it and simply smiled at him.
• “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you said.
• “See ya then.”
• Bucky watched you go inside and started the long trek back to his apartment.
• When he got there, it felt emptier, not quite as homey as the Wilson’s place or how Bucky felt when he was with you.
• Though, he slept well that night.
• During the day, he was nervous.
• Not as nervous as he would have been prior to working alongside Sam, but still nervous.
• He was in his head again, but until seven at night when he saw you walk down the steps.
• You knew him, he had told you everything and you still wanted to waste time with him.
• Bucky smiled at the thought, at you as you strode up to him.
• “So, where are we headed?”
• “To the park,” Bucky said in a breath, still trying to collect himself.
• “The park,” you returned, your smile enduring.
• As you walked towards the park nearby your home, your arms would brush against Bucky’s, a tickling reminder that you were alone together.
• The park was lovely, framed by the sunset.
• Children giggled, clinging to playgrounds and soaring in swings.
• An elderly couple sat at a bench you and Bucky passed, all grey hair and joined hands.
• Eventually, Bucky led you to a patch that was decorated like a haunted landscape.
• Pumpkins, some carved some not, littered the grassy knoll
• Plastic facades of ghosts, ghouls, and haunted houses stood proud, some nearly as tall as Bucky.
• “Wow, you took the spooky thing to heart, huh?”
• “Y-Yeah, you like it?”
• You glanced around before you met his eyes and nodded.
• “I love it.”
• You and Bucky wandered through the maze of gourds and decorations, smiling, cracking jokes about Halloween costumes past.
• “I didn’t get to do much so I was an army man most years.”
• “Oddly fitting,” you teased.
• “What about you?”
• “There were a few DIY costumes over the years,” you admitted.
• Bucky’s face immediately brightened and he chuckled. “Oh really?”
• “Oh yes, and there’s photo evidence to support how terrible they could be,” you smiled and added, “I’ll show you sometime.”
• You both watched as children darted between plastic ghosts, trying to scare each other.
• Eventually, you and Bucky perched yourselves on an empty bench.
• Your shoulders were almost pressed together, your warmth mingling and wrapping around you both, banishing the crisp evening chill.
• “I haven’t been to the park in ages.”
• “Really?” Bucky asked, happy that you broke the silence that claimed you both.
• “I’ve been too busy, with work and just…life.”
• “So I was right when I told Yori that you were too busy for a date.”
• You chuckled and shook your head.
• “Except for now,” you said, turning your head to meet his eyes.
• Bucky couldn’t help the grin that spread along his lips.
• You smiled back at him.
• “This isn’t a date, is it?” Bucky asked, mimicking what you had asked the first time you spent the night talking to each other at Izzy’s.
• “Not unless you want it to be,” you returned, the same thing he told you back then.
• Bucky smiled and nudged his shoulder against yours.
• “I want it to be.”
• “I want it to be, too.”
• There was another stretch of quiet, though easier than the one before.
• You and Bucky stared at each other with all the softness in the world.
• Bucky’s face was relaxed, more than relaxed than you had ever seen him; his lips wore a lazy smile and his blue eyes were glinting under the light of the setting sun.
• That light further bathed him in a warm orange glow that made your stomach twist.
• Bucky was drinking in the look of you too, outlined in the green of the park and beautiful.
• “I also want to kiss you,” Bucky said, his voice tender, almost lost in the wind.
• “Then kiss me.”
• At your reply, Bucky leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a fumbling rush.
• You didn’t care though, so neither did he.
• His hands reached to cup the sides of your face and held you with all the careful fervor he could muster.
• Your hands gripped at the front of his dark red shirt, pulling him impossibly close.
• While PDA might not be your favorite thing, you were so swept up by Bucky’s touch that you didn’t care.
• Bucky, who loves PDA, already didn’t care.
• When you pulled away (‘cause Bucky sure wasn’t going to be the first to do so), his lips were kiss-swollen and eyes half-lidded.
• “Should’ve done it sooner,” he murmured when he met your gaze.
• “Yeah, definitely.”
• After that first date, you and Bucky retained your three times a weeknight talks
• and a weekly outing on the weekends.
• He would check you out while you worked, make sure that people like that creepy guy wouldn’t come around to bother you.
• He would glare at anyone that even looked at you the wrong way.
• “You’re staring,” you said, passing him a bottle of beer.
• “Do you blame me?”
• You gave him a warning glance, but there was a smile on your face.
• When you ask why Yori doesn’t come around with him anymore, Bucky is honest with you.
• “But that wasn’t you.”
• “It was,” Bucky said, “my body still-”
• “I don’t care what your body has done, I care about what you do. And you care about people, Bucky, you try to help wherever you can. You love. That’s you. The man that killed his son wasn’t you.”
• Bucky wanted to kiss you, in the dingey corner of Izzy’s after your shift, but held back.
• On the walk home, he held back;
• but the second you were about to say goodbye, Bucky cupped your face and kissed you, hard.
• The force behind his lips was strong, but his touch was so mild that you melted into him.
• Your chests pressed together, heartbeats melded into one.
• He walked you backwards until your back knocked against the fence.
• You laughed as you nearly toppled entirely into Bucky and broke the kiss.
• You threw your arms over his shoulders as he rested his forehead against yours.
• “Sorry,” he murmured.
• “No, don’t be sorry,” you leaned up and snuck another kiss.
• Bucky pulled his forehead from yours and stared down at you.
• His fingers, with rough pads, traced along your cheek to your jaw and tilted your face up with such a softness that the rush before felt like a hazy memory.
• Just before your lips touched, you asked in a whisper, “come upstairs?”
• “Yes,” Bucky said just before he pressed his mouth to yours.
• The two of you were a stumbling, tangled mess getting to your room.
• Needless to say, even when you reached your bedroom, you both were still a stumbling, tangled mess.
• A softer mess, a more tender, pleasurablemess.
• That night began another ritual.
• Bucky would sleep over at your place a few times a week.
• Eventually, you dedicated a drawer to him, his clothes.
• Though, they weren’t always his clothes.
• “Where’s my red- doll.”
• “What?”
• “Are you wearing my shirt?”
• “Maybe,” you teasing, pulling at the long sleeves of a shirt that was definitely Bucky’s.
• You turned around to face him and he was, literally, shirtless, with his dog tags shining against his tanned chest.
• “I’d like it back.”
• “Come get it then.”
• Spending the night together wasn’t always teasing.
• Most of the time it was sharing movies, ordering takeout, talking, laughing.
• Basically, you catching Bucky up on pop culture.
• “Steve’s list mentions a Star Wars?”
• “It’s a movie series. You wanna watch it?”
• “How many movies are there?”
• “Ten, I think, eleven maybe.”
• “Ten! How many movies can someone make about the same characters?!”
• “You’d be surprised.”
• It’s after one these movies nights when it happens.
• You’re switching off the screen, ready to head to bed when you turn around and see Bucky still sat on the couch.
• His plaid pajama pants rode up a little, disturbing the hem of his tight grey shirt.
• It’s then you see the steady rise and fall of his chest grow a touch more rapid.
• “I love you.”
• His voice is low, gravelly but soft when he says it.
• You thought you misheard him at first and Bucky feared that he said it far too soon.
• When your pause extended, Bucky moved to sit up, to backtrack.
• But then, finally your face broke into a grin.
• “I love you too.”
• “Come ‘ere then,” he said, arms extended and reaching out to you.
• You walked towards him, felt his warm hand and cold hand grab your hips and pull you down into his lap.
• “I love you,” he said again, leaning up for a kiss.
• “I love you,” you echoed, meeting him in the middle.
• Leah makes jokes about how icky the honeymoon phase is.
• You agree, but you explain that you’ve never felt this way before
• and Bucky was first to admit that his encounters with love were limited.
• So, you both hold on to each other; become one another’s safe space.
• Once, Bucky mentioned a vacation.
• “Where to?”
• “Louisiana. You could meet Sam, go out on the boat, get out of the city.”
• “I’d like that.”
• When you do go eventually, you love it.
• The Wilsons welcomed you with open arms.
• “So you’re Y/N,” Sam greeted, “Buck won’t stop talkin’ about you.”
• “That’s saying a lot, because he hardly talks,” you said teasingly, squeezing Bucky’s hand.
• Sam laughed, “oh, I like you.”
• You and Bucky spend days on the docks, the beach, on the boat.
• One night, you were on the dock, watching the sunset.
• When you turned, Bucky was taking a swig of his beer, basking in the sun.
• “This place looks good on you.”
• Bucky turned and beamed at you, “really?”
• “Yeah,” you replied, reaching a hand out to brush through his hair.
• “It’s nice seeing you of the city, not busy. Relaxationlooks good on you.”
• You leaned in, as if to kiss him, but lingered just out of reach of his lips to say, “maybe we should stay a little longer.”
• “I wouldn’t mind that.”
• “I’ll call Leah,” you said, starting to move away.
• Bucky pulled you back, your chin pinched between his forefinger and thumb.
• “Tomorrow,” he murmured, “right now, you’re mine.”
• You were his, just as he was yours, for the next few days.
• Sadly, after another week in Louisiana, Bucky mentioned how Sam needs him back in action.
• “So, he’s stealing my boyfriend?”
• “More like borrowing me.”
• “When do you leave?”
• “After we get back to the city,” he replied, walking towards where you sat on the edge of the bed.
• You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth and Bucky smiled.
• He kneeled down before you, between your legs, and reached up to pull your lip free.
• “What are you thinkin’ about, doll?”
• “I’mthinkin’we just shouldn’t go back.”
• Bucky head fell to the side, strength almost crippled by the sadness of your voice, and leaned up towards you.
• He didn’t have to say anything.
• He poured his agreement, that shared wish, into the kiss you shared.
• Not the last kiss.
• No, that would come far later.

Protective Girl

Character:James Bucky Barnes

Pairing:James Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings ⚠️: Aggressive situation. Public agression. Reader defending Bucky. Fluff. Violence. Mentions of blood, “language”….

Inspired by (): Alguien más / Jesse y Joy

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! I hope you’re doing well out there.

Yep, I’m in a writer mood. This is my best day, certainly.

I’m come back with my Bucky. I’m in love so hard with this men. So so hard that will be difficult stop writing with him.

Inthe end, I have a little request for us: If you see this post, can you tell me if you can see my last posted fics (You need meandCandy) because I have the feeling that I’m having troubles with my Tumblr’s account.

Because told me that they didn’t appear in the hastags. Or maybe I’m doing something wrong.

I will be so grateful if someone can do it that.

Well, I hope this fics likes you like others and always appreciate your reply. Thanks you so much for read me!! XOXO

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Ya tengo a alguien más despertando en mí piel que es tan fuera de lo normal, haciéndome sentir bien…

-So you left me for that motherfucker, right? - Aaron’s voice gets louder among those present and I take a deep breath trying not to notice that referring to Bucky in that way makes the blood boil in my veins - I knew you weren’t worth it.

-Don’t get James into this. If I remember correctly … You cheated on me with Emily, my co-worker! - I hear that my own voice breaks but no longer from pain, but from shame for the bad moment that I am putting my friends through. Despite the fact that it had been almost a year since I admitted that Sam was right about Aaron, it still pained me that I didn’t realize sooner what was really worth in my life - You don’t have the slightest right to reproach me for nothing.

- Always was that fucking psycho. I could never make you forget that he existed.

I hear a growl behind me that accompanies the air that escapes between my teeth. There were a lot of things he would put up with, but badmouthing Bucky wasn’t one of them.

-Watch your words, Aaron. That I will have no qualms about making you regret what you’re saying - his cynical laugh fills the bar and the people around us begin to murmur.

-You? You can’t even kill a fly, kitty.

The noises of several chairs moving attract my attention and I hear how Sam murmurs things to Bucky, who is trying to get up, but he cannot because Sam is holding him by the shoulders.

- I am not the young woman you met three years ago, Bizance.

-Let me guess … Did the robot teach you to play in the major leagues?

I count to ten as soon as I hear the word “robot” and concentrate on keeping my sanity in front of the people present, but the line of sanity begins to blur.

-No, but he showed me that you are not even remotely from the major leagues.

I smiled at Sam’s laugh and I see Aaron give my buildingmate a hateful look. I don’t hear another sound from my two companions, but I’m still worried about Bucky’s reaction.

-Do not you have anything better to do? Leave me alone, Aaron.

I walk away quickly without giving him time or the right to reply and as soon as I get to our table at the end of the small hall, my boys are waiting for me with a smile. Joaquín extends his fist on the table to bump it against mine. That makes me smile but I still feel my body shaking. If there are things I don’t like, it’s being the center of attention, much less in front of a crowd of strangers. I know Bucky notices it because I feels his hand take mine under the table.

-Look at my ex-girlfriend, he left me for that killer psychopath. That’s how fast the shy one was - People suddenly fall silent and everyone turns to see us. I can feel their gaze on my yellow blouse and I feel the color start to creep up my neck as anger fills me. Before I can even react, I feel Bucky’s hand slip away from me and he suddenly rises, passing behind me, without even taking his eyes off Aaron. We exchange a look with Sam and as soon as I wait for a word, I get up quickly and stand in front of Bucky, resting my hands on his chest and pushing him lightly.

-He’s not worth it, Bucky. Leave him alone.

- He’s humiliating you, doll. And if there’s one thing that drives me out of my mind, it’s listening to a coward speak ill of a woman. And even more if that woman is you.

-I know, I know. And you completely know that I love that twenties chivalry of yours, but this time, leave this to me, Barnes.

-As you said, he’s not worth it - His blue eyes mix with mine and I curse being so close to him in such a public place. He could tell me anything and I would answer yes as long as he doesn’t stop looking at me.

-Stay here. I’ll be right back.

I approach Aaron under the watchful eye of everyone present in that bar and I stop in front of him. He sees me as if he has won a battle, but the thing he least expects is the hurricane in front of him.

-Since you are here yelling like a wayward little boy, let me tell you something; You made a mess of me, and that, I must admit, I will always thank you.

-I didn’t expect that - The disdain in his voice makes him want to hit him.

-But I will never allow you to insult my friends while I am present.

-Admit that you left me for running after him, Lara. Leave the lies that we are both grown up now.

-Lies? You reproach me about lies when you got between the legs of my office colleague? How dare you demand sincerity from me?

-You left me for him. Otherwise you would not have done it.

-That’s not true and you know it.

-I saw every day how your eyes shone every time that bastard appeared with that nickname of sad and hurt for life as if he barely existed.

-Shut.

-I will not do it.

-Do you want me to tell you the true? - My throat burns at the words that are about to come out of it, but I know there will be no going back after that - Yes, I am in love with James because he is what you are not, you never were and you never will be. And is truth, I don’t know how I didn’t notice him before than you.

I hear a gasp coming from Torres’s lips as I hear nothing but murmurs around me… I close my eyes trying not to think about the words, much less what Bucky is thinking about them.

Yes, I am in love with him. Even before I dated Aaron, but I never dared tell him.

-I cannot believe that you accept a murderer as if he were an innocent.

That was the straw that broke the glass of both, both Bucky and mine, at the same time that I heard his chair come, I hurried over and punched Aaron in the nose that made him stumble towards his back and finish in the arms of his friend. He quickly touched his nose while he was dying red and I turned quickly to see that Sam was watching the scene next to Bucky, who was looking at me with an expression full of pride and affection.

All I could do was blush as I shook my hand on the side of my body. It hurt like hell but the adrenaline rushing through my body was exquisite.

The next thing happens so fast that I don’t have time to react: Aaron gets up quickly, using his good reflexes and tries to get closer to hit me, but I feel someone grab my arm and pull me at the same time that Sam comes between both of us.

-I’m going to let go of a moment that you tried to hit a lady just to ask you a damn question: Don’t you know who I am?

-Another geek like him? - Indicate Bucky and this time Joaquín holds me with both hands when I tries to let go of me to hit him again.

-I see that you are not informed, I am Captain America in case you have not noticed, and I will kick your damn ass if it occurs to you to speak badly of my partner again and much more if you try to do something to our girl. Understood?

-Why don’t you stop defending the geek and let him come here? - We both turn to see Bucky who is taking off the glove that he is wearing, in addition to his jacket to show under his short-sleeved shirt, the black and gold tones of his vibranium arm. And as much as that action seemed the most threatening … To me it seemed one of the most attractive things in the universe.

-Think well your words, child. Because what you are asking is to play with fire.

-I’m not afraid.

-I’ll make one thing clear to you, little garbage - Sam takes both flaps of the Cartier jacket that Aaron is wearing and as soon as he picks it up from the floor, it begins to turn pale - If I let him come here, nothing and no one will save you from the Wrath of the Winter Soldier. And much less me, because I will gladly help him.

Aaron stares at me for a few seconds and tries to free himself from Sam’s grip, but all he achieves is that when he lets go, his companion mutters something to him about leaving. He simply follows it, but not before looking at the four of us as if we were monsters.

- Damn hen - I shake my head as I walk back to the table where Bucky is leaning, his brow furrowed and a clear expression of annoyance on his face. As soon as I get to his side, he only lets out a sigh.

-Why didn’t they let me intervene? - Bucky’s voice sounds muffled, like he’s upset by our actions. He gave her a smile and grabbed his face with both hands to make him look at me - I could have made him see reason.

-We were defending you, brother - Sam slaps his shoulder as he passes while I hear him mutter an apology to the manager of the place and he simply thanks him that he is here. We all smile at the charms that Captain America provokes.

-You wouldn’t have given a chance to breathe, Bucky and as much as I would have loved that, I’d rather not. I want to keep you away from idiots like him.

-I’m not a child, doll.

-No - I admit as I left a kiss on his cheek and took my little bag - But you are one of my favorite men. And I like to be able to defend you sometime.

At those words, before I walk away to the door, I feel him intertwine his fingers with mine and look at my hand, where my knuckles are too red in contrast to the color of my skin.

-It hurts, right?

I try to downplay myself - Not much.

He takes a deep breath while Joaquin pays the bill and before I wants to let go of Bucky’s grip, he won’t let me do it. We walk towards the door and as soon as we go out into the street, I hear the laughter and comments of Sam and Joaquín who are a few steps ahead of us.

No one says anything but we’re still holding hands and it feels amazing. Even better than the adrenaline rushing through me a few minutes ago.

-Are you ever going to let me go?

-Do you want me to do it?

I think about it for a second before giving my answer - No.

-Good, because I wasn’t planning on doing it either.

Between the silence of the night, our joined hands and the comments of our colleagues, the road to my apartment is short. So short that I could barely enjoy the company of my favorite avenger as I wanted.

-Rest, little one - Sam’s voice comes to me from the elevator, like a military signal from Joaquín, who do not get off it, Bucky being the only one who does - We are waiting for you downstairs, Buck.

The blue-eyed man just nods as he guides me to my apartment without saying a single word. The air is heavy between us, but no one dares to comment on my words in the restaurant.

I wanted to say that it was the fire of the moment, but I would be lying if it were.

-Can I come to see you tomorrow?

-You always can, Bucky. You don’t need to ask for it.

I look for the keys in my bag and as soon as I turn around, I feel the heat of his body against my back. I stay still for a few seconds but next is the sound of his voice against my ear, too close to make my legs shake.

-I’d like to talk about what you said in the restaurant. I don’t want you to think that I forgot about it.

-James…

-You know, I always liked that you call me by my name - I feel his lips brush my ear and for a moment I forget my name - But even more, I would like to hear it in another situation …

-What are you implying, Sergeant?

I put my hand to my chest, feigning surprise and horror at his words, but I turn around enough to see that he is smiling and that his eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief.

-You know what I mean - his indifference makes me laugh and as soon as I walk away, I feel his hands surround my waist, immobilizing me against the door - I would like to talk about it before I can even kiss you because I won’t be able to talk about it afterwards. It will be difficult for me to get away from you.

-I understand - The blush on my face is present as well as the heat. Damn heat. He just smiled as he lets go of me and walks a few steps away from the door - Won’t you say goodbye?

-See you tomorrow, doll. Rest.

-I’ll be waiting for you, don’t forget.

-That’s for sure.

You Need Me

Character: Helmut Zemo

Pairing:Helmut Zemo x Fem!Reader (but it can be read like a Gender Neutral!Reader)

Warnings:Zemo comfort Reader. Angst. Support. Crying. Company. Little fluff.

Inspired by: Arms Open / The Script

Author’s Note: Hello! It’s me again. I know that I’ve been missing but university takes me down. Literally. So… I couldn’t write because I haven’t inspiration.

In this case, I came back with my beloved Helmut, but in a different situation: A few months ago, during Christmas last year, I had some family problems and Tumblr was my escape of those moments. A lot of fics that I discovered in those days help me to through about it. Reading amazing stories and trying to write some too.

This is one of those fics that I’ve started to write in these moments but never couldn’t end it.

This is my poor contribution about those fics that maybe, makes feel better to someone else.

Ps1: This was my state a few months ago… So sorry about the sad things in it I’ll be backs with some things more happys next. I promise

So… This fic, I would like to dedicated to @loveofafangirl because her stories always makes me feel better and makes me smile since I discovered her blog a few months ago and both share love for Zemo.

By the way, I hope from the bottom of my heart that this fic likes you and thanks you for takes your time to read all that I write.

Hope all of you are you Ok!! XOXO

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

So let me do to you what you’ve always done for me and let me be the ground underneath your feet

I can’t unfeel your pain, I can’t undo what’s done, I can’t send back the rain but if I could I would … My love, my arms are open…

I want to tell him about it but I can’t …

I feel like the words get stuck in my throat once more as I hear him mutter something that I can’t quite understand. Perhaps these are words in Sokovian or maybe in a language that I don’t recognize but it is impossible for me to understand.

-Helmut …

-What do you need? Tell me and I’ll have it for you in less than an hour.

His voice sounds so clear amid all the noise in my head that it seems to calm my mind.

I need you here. You are what I need.

-I don’t need anything, Helm.

I feel terrible at the idea of ​​lying him, but I know I will make him feel even worse if he knows that I want him to be by my side despite being hours apart. I want to believe in my own words but with every second that passes, reality takes me away from it.

-I don’t like the way your voice sounds, Liebling.

-We both agree on that - I squeeze the small handkerchief between my fingers while I wish they were Helmut’s hands. I’m left with that thought as I hear him mutter a curse in Sokovian on the other end of the line - Stop cursing or the next time you call I won’t answer.

The only response I get is a snort as I feel the tears start to trickle down my cheeks. If I could make only one wish, it is to have him by my side now.

-Are you sure you don’t need anything from me?

-No. I’m fine - The last word is cut between my lips when I try to contain a sob but I don’t hear a response from him, so I don’t know how much he will have believed my sentence - Will you call me tomorrow?

-Without hesitation, Liebling. Rest.

I let out a sob as I end the call and I’m thankful that he can’t hear me. At the same time I feel the air trying to escape from my lungs, threatening to drown me in my slightest carelessness.

As soon as I realize it, hours, minutes and seconds pass that seem eternal. I lose track of time with my head glued to the pillow in my bed and when I wake up, without being aware of when the dream won the battle, I find myself analyzing whether the idea that the phone has not rung is synonymous with good or bad signal.

I do not know what to think. The clock marks eleven in the morning on a day that I don’t want to travel.

I try to have more than a few sips of tea when the doorbell rings. I walk slowly to the door, waiting for the person on the other side to leave, but the doorbell rings again.

And again.

Damn insistent. I walk with what little energy I have left. I feel discouraged and tired. I can barely breathe easy without the phone ringing.

I open the door and automatically my eyes blur. Is it a trick on my head or is Helmut in front of me?

-Liebling - Zemo’s voice brings me back to reality as I feel his arms surround me, and before I can even think about it, I squeeze his clothes between my hands wrinkling his expensive jacket as if it were a piece of paper, trying to feel that this is not an illusion in my head.

He’s here. He really is here.

He slightly pushes me away and he takes my face with both hands, carefully observing my expressions, which I know reflect my inner state and which I cannot hide. He doesn’t speak because he knows that the pain I feel is palpable in the air.

-Why are you here? - I barely recognize my voice and I hear the air coming out of his lungs in a heavy sigh. I know that although he is with me, he is not calm, much less noticing the state in which I was. Usually I would hear some delicate reproach about my lie, but he just stares at me.

-Are you asking me about it? Because you need me - He caresses my cheek with his thumb as he wipes my tears. His eyes are bright, as if he wants to cry but I know he wants to convey security to me. I enjoy his touch for a minute as I see the vulnerability in his expressions - I can’t listen to you like that and let it go as if nothing happened.

-I didn’t ask you to come.

I know my words sound harsh, but I don’t know how to answer in another way without letting what little strength I have fade from his attentions. I want to try to look strong in front of him, but at the same time I want him to be my support.

- You don’t have to ask me, Liebling. And if you did, I’d ask Samuel for the damn ship just to be by your side as quickly as possible. You know if you need me, you just have to say it. Never doubt about it.

I didn’t know what to answer. I simply put my hands up and straightened his hair, which was tousled. He probably would have run or fell asleep on the plane. Or perhaps, he would have run his hands over him so many times due to his nervousness.

-Forgive my image, darling. It’s that … I ran the two blocks that separated me from you, all because of a damn traffic jam… - He turns to the hallway and I realize again that he is there, next to me.

When he barely turns, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him close enough so that our bodies are close together. I sigh as I enjoy the warmth that his body gives off, the almost non-existent closeness between them, his arms surrounding me and giving me that security that made me not collapse. Knowing that he was there for me made everything a little easier. I allow myself to feel his cologne for a few seconds and bury my face in his neck, while letting a quiet sigh escape my lips, causing his body to shudder and wrap his arms around me with much more force, making me stay standing on tiptoe.

-I wish to eliminate all the pain in the world just to avoid your suffering, Liebling. Your happiness is my happiness and your suffering is my suffering, you are part of me. You know it, right?

-Yes- I admit without leaving his arms - But you can’t - And I know that it eats away at him right now. It’s the one thing you can’t fix with money or contacts.

- But I want you to know that I would try just to see you smile again - I nod as I feel against my chest as his heartbeat slows down and makes me feel in my comfort zone. In the one where I could only be calm and sure that I could face whatever happened. I can not hold back the tears any longer and I feel them fall down my cheeks, I want to move away and explain him what is happening to me, what is happening, but the words do not leave my lips. The only thing I achieve is that a kind of squeak comes from my lips that makes Helmut hold me even more tightly as if I were going to break me - Shh … Here I am, use me for whatever you need.

- Helm … - I tighten my grip around him even more as I feel his hands caress my back.

-If I am not here for you in these moments, then I do not deserve you.

- I don’t deserve you.

-You deserve the world, Liebling. All the good stuff and nothing more than that. And I appreciate that you let me be by your side - I feel his lips brush my hair, leaving kisses on my head - I know that … I know that the pain you feel now I will not be able to take it away, but I will be by your side until it passes. Are you okay with that?

-Yes, Helm. Always.

Day in Paradise

Character: James Bucky Barnes

Pairing:Bucky Barnes / Fem!Reader (OC)

Inspired by: This scene

Warnings:Fluff. So much fluff. Thoughts about past wishes. Reader is a companion of the team. Insecurities. Pre TFATWS Finale. Friendship.

Author’s Note:Hello, It’s me.

Yep, it’s me again and this fic is one of those that I write when I saw this scene, this superhero won my heart without doubt. This is the first time that I see him happy.

And it was incredible to see it. (And this is one of my favorites episodes )

So… This is the first of eight? Or maybe nine? Fics that I’ve started writing about Bucky since the series began.

I hope you like this so much and thank you for everything XOXO

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Just down the stairs I hear the laughter of the little ones. I stand for a few seconds watching from my little hiding place between the staircase and the living room, that the two of them play with Steve’s shield, mutter things about heroes, fights and so on, apart from making sounds of gunshots and so on. I let out a laugh as soon as I see AJ take the shield with the same attitude as his uncle and I can’t help but smile at them; If they were the reflection of what the future would be, we were in very good hands.

I go down a couple more steps, trying not to get their attention when I see Bucky leaning back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. His chest rises and falls in a harmonious way, as if tranquility invaded him. His eyes are closed and his left hand is on his stomach. Apparently, he is sleeping peacefully, I think for a moment about his words about nightmares and I admire the fact that, although he seems that he is in a pleasant dream, he is living a nightmare while sleeping.

Again I hear the laughter of the children and look at the clock on the kitchen counter: it’s 7:40 and these two are already up to mischief.

For a second they cover my vision of Bucky but when they both let out a kind of screech, I get closer to stop them, but I stop short as soon as I hear his voice. He murmurs something to the little avengers and they keep the shield between haste and laughter, dropping it in its place, disappearing from the crime scene where they have been caught red-handed. They run past me, muttering a hasty “Good morning” and as soon as I look back at Bucky, I see him smile.

A genuine and tender smile. I giggle when I realize that Bucky Barnes seems to love kids.

I peek slowly around the doorframe that separates the living room from the kitchen to see him look over the back of the chair and laugh again.

I let out a sigh as I walk slowly to the kitchen and see the full coffee pot and a small fluorescent yellow post-it that reads “For Buck” accompanied by an arrow indicating an electric kettle, which has another pink post-it on it. When I open it, I see that it contains boiled water.

“For you” I read in this one and I smile. Always so attentive … I would thank Sam later.

I look back at the note on the coffeepot as I frown and look at where Bucky is.

How the hell did Sam know that I was going to get up first?

I shake my head as I look for where the cups might be and I lean against the table as I look around and can’t find them. Nor do I want to make a lot of noise to annoy Sarah so much and to betray my presence to Bucky, although knowing him, he must have already heard my little delicate walk.

-They’re on the top shelf - I listen before I even open the shelf and let out a sigh.

I want to laugh but my attempt to laugh stays in my throat as soon as I know that he is talking to me. I feel like my hands are shaking, they start to sweat and the cup slips from my hands, but I manage to take it before it hits the floor. I turn around barely expecting to see him standing in the doorway, but he’s not there, so I look for another cup and fill them with our respective drinks.

-Thank you - I murmur knowing that it is the only word that would come out in that situation. I thank in silence at least having looked at myself in the mirror and having fixed the tangle that I had in my head by hair - How do you take it?

-How you prepare it will be fine, doll - The cup that contains the hot coffee slips again and I am grateful that it is almost on the table, because the drops of hot liquid that fall on my hands make me let out a moan of pain.

Stop talking, Barnes, I’m going to end up with a third degree burn just from hearing your voice. And that nickname will be my downfall.

-Are you OK? - I hear him murmur from the living room and all I do is say a slight “yes” before taking both cups and walking to where he was.

When he appears in my field of vision, it is still in the same position as before, and for a few seconds I wish not to have the cups in my hands because the impure thoughts that invade me are irreproducible even to my own thoughts, but the slightest of them all consists in climbing on top of him just to look at him, and contradicting myself, I appreciate having the cups in both hands, and as soon as I enter the room, he turns around and sits extending one of his arms towards me, taking the cup and touching my fingers on the process.

That flash of electricity that runs through my fingers makes me release the cup as soon as I feel that it is safe in his hands and I avoid looking him in the eyes at all costs.

Those blue eyes that make me feel at home, and that I find safety in the most stormy moments, observe me to find some sign of pain, but it seems that I hide it too well because it looks away immediately.

-It was just a small burn - I explain to him as soon as I remember that he had asked me if I was okay, so I sit on the armrest of the sofa, in the place where he has the pillow - Have you slept well?

-Better than I expected. The children have woken me - A smile escapes from his lips as soon as he mentions them but hides it while he takes a sip of coffee - and your steps.

-It is not true. I didn’t even make the slightest noise. They were making more noise than me - I hit him on the arm and he makes no move to dodge the blow, which is why I keep a groan of pain when I hit his bionic arm - You couldn’t have heard me.

-Ialways hear you, doll. It is easy for me to distinguish you from the others - This time I take a long sip of tea to hide my blush, but it is practically impossible for me due to the small size of the cup. I forget for a moment how hot the tea is and focus on how the heat spreads down my throat until I find a way to avoid answering that statement - Was it a rough night?

-Because you said so? - I appreciate the change of subject.

-About Sam. It must be difficult sleeping next to him - I let out a laugh as I lean against the couch and let out a sigh.

Although the idea of ​​sharing a room, well, more like an armchair, with Bucky seemed most charming, considering that it would be the only way I could touch him without even looking like a crazy in love, being able to justify it with the state of unconsciousness for him. dream, it was possible until Sam had to open his mouth and after 15 minutes of arguing, I ended up in his room, sleeping next to him, with a pile of pillows separating us as if it were a wall.

At one point in the night, I seriously considered choking him with one of them.

-He sleeps like a baby and doesn’t even snore, that’s how much I ask when I have to sleep with a man.

We both laughed as we watched the sun begin to enter through the windows and illuminate most of the room. For the first time in a long time, it seemed that the light was beginning to beat the darkness.

-And you?

He knew I was referring to his nightmares.

-Incredibly, I slept without nightmares for the first time since Steve rescued me from Hydra’s hands. Besides that I’m not sleeping on the floor, that is already strange - We both laughed and I tapped the armchair with my foot, trying to dispel the nervousness of having him around.

-It’s comfortable, you just had to give it a try. But not as a bed, and don’t you dare argue with me.

He shakes his head as he places the coffee cup on the small table in front of us and goes back to bed the same way he was when I entered the living room.

-Do you like children, Bucky? - It was not the question that was hovering in my head, but the image of watching him play or run after a small child melted my heart and the few neurons that were still functioning.

-Do you want the truth? - I tell him yes with my head as I see that he looks at me upside down, and I can’t help but laugh - I love them. Since I can remember, I have always liked children. Sometimes I think that when I was young I wanted a big family, if possible with at least three boys and a girl.

-So you are one of the large family.

-I had imagined that the girl would be Steve’s favorite and that perhaps, I would have to remind him that she’s my daughter.

A single tear falls down my cheek and ends up on the side of his pillow. I quickly dry my cheeks before he notices my crying but it’s almost impossible to hide it. Those thoughts made me bring out the most sensitive part of me

-And what do you want now?

-This - Indicates the house and looks back at the shield, which is on the ground, in the same position that the little ones left it - The family house, the tranquility interrupted by laughter and children’s games, the sound of the breeze between the trees, I don’t know. All this that makes me feel calm. I feel like in Wakanda.

-So, maybe this is your place in the world, Barnes. The rest will come alone. If I learned anything from all this, it is to let time do its job.

-You are right. Although, the most importantly thing, I still couldn’t find it.

-What would it be? - I take another sip of the tea between my hands and I see that Sam enters the house through one of the many entrances.

-To the woman who wants all that with me.

I put the cup down suddenly and set it on the table next to him. I feel like my heart wants to get out of my chest and it wants to scream that I want to be that woman, but something tells me that maybe I would not be the type of woman he is looking for.

-You will find her, also, who would not want to have that ideal life with you? Family, children, love, a man who can give her security, who is her companion, and who, besides everything, is an incredible friend. That always looks good when you have to save the world and even to fix a ship that falls apart. You are an amazing man, Bucky. Women just have to see it and it won’t be long before you find it.

-Is that what you think of me?

I tense up as soon as I notice where the conversation turned.

-I’ve known you for at least seven years, if we count the snap. That’s enough time to know that you are one of the best men I have ever met, besides Sam and Steve.

-It wasn’t what I meant. - He lifts his metal arm and stretches it until his hand touches the little strips of the light blue blouse I’m wearing. He takes one and pulls it as if it were a small child drawing attention - Do you really think I look good when it comes to saving the world?

-Stop kidding me, James.

He starts laughing and I enjoy it while he lasts. He looks so relaxed that he makes me smile at his happiness.

-You were the one who said it.

-Anyone would like to be you to look so good without looking for it.

-Thank you for that, doll - I notice that his cheeks began to take a pink color and he looks away from my face without releasing the ribbon of my blouse. Of the cutest things I had ever seen about these men, every time Bucky blushed that was one of my favorites - You look beautiful too.

-Look who’s talking, the one who looks like a Dolce & Gabbana model when he wakes up. Others woke up as if an earthquake had caught us in the middle of the night.

He lets out a laugh as he looks back at me and I get lost in those blue eyes. In what perhaps, they can see that I am madly in love with him and that the one speaking is my heart, not my brain.

-You always look good to me, doll.

-Don’ t lie.

-I never do and less to you - Suddenly he turns around and I find him sitting in front of me, looking at me as if I were dealing with a valuable object that he just found. I feel the warmth of his hand brush my cheek and I automatically bow to his touch. That he is delicate and careful, as if he is afraid of hurting me - You have a sparkle in your eye when you wake up, I don’t know why it makes you look just beautiful. As if you’ve been dreaming of something that made you happy.

-Bucky … - I tried to ignore how my brain was asking me in a non-delicate way to tell him I was dreaming about him.

-Yes? - His other hand takes mine and holds it tightly as if to make sure I won’t run away any minute.

-Doesn’t your flight leave in a few hours?

He frowns at my comment and tightens his grip on our hands. I mentally complain about how unbelievably good the contrast between the cold of the metal and the warmth of my hand feels, and I think about how to get out of there quickly before I regret my actions.

What a beautiful way to ruin the moment.

-And was it time to remind myself about it?

-Mine also comes out in a few hours.

-Are you leaving ? - I nod without moving away and snort - I didn’t know you were leaving.

-Touché, Sergeant. I found out from Sam last night while he was changing my clothes that you were traveling earlier today.

I didn’t have to hear an answer because his annoyed expression appeared as soon as I said about the clothes. - Don’t make me try to punch you in the face, Bucky. Who do you take me for? I have confidence with Sam but not so that he sees what I wear under my clothes.

-Sorry, I don’t like the idea of ​​seeing you scantily clad in front of other people.

-And would it be okay in front of you? - Before I could think about it, the phrase was already said and I wish the earth would open up and swallow me - Forget what came out of my mouth two seconds ago. I wasn’t thinking when I said it.

- I like it when you don’t think what you say, doll. It is very similar to what I think - his gaze becomes soft and something in the environment becomes warmer - And yes, I like that idea.

-James Barnes, are you trying to flirt with me?

-I may have started to remember how to do it. I’d like to practice my old self skills with you.

- They were taking a long time - Sarah’s voice reached her brother’s ears and he simply responded with a sigh. When I noticed that Sam was thinking of interrupting the moment of romanticism that was taking place in his living room, Sarah took him by the arm, slowing her advance - not even if you happen to enter there.

- Leave me Sarah.

-Let them kiss and then you walk in.

-I’d love to help you practice, Bucky, but I have to pack my suitcase

-I could carry it for you - A hint of fun appears in her voice and I get up quickly trying to loosen myself from her grip, which I can’t - Let me show you how a gentleman should treat a woman.

I must leave the room now.

-Don’t play with fire, James. You will burn.

I hold his gaze the whole way until he stops in front of me, making the difference in height between us clearly noticeable. The sexual tension between us is palpable, but neither of us crosses the imaginary line that we have both imposed on ourselves for the good of the team.

-Don’t play with the ice, doll. You can also get burned.

I see out of the corner of my eye that Sam is arguing with Sarah like little children and I walk off into the kitchen, taking the cup with me but before I even reach the door, I turn to find Bucky holding Steve’s shield, like it was glass.

I smiled at him as I walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek, making me look like an illusion.

-You’re amazing, Bucky. And the worst of all is that you don’t know - I caress his cheek gently until I finish with my fingers on his lips - Don’t forget.

He nod as he moves closer, closing the distance between us, and when he sees that I don’t walk away or I resist, he simply presses his lips against mine in a soft kiss. Nothing more than that. One of those that you hope will transform into more, but if do, the charm is lost.

Magic, perhaps.

-I’ll see you in New York next month, Bucky. - I turn away as I walk towards the stairs.

-I’ll miss you, doll. Don’t forget it too.

Come Back

Character:James Bucky Barnes

Pairing:Bucky Barnes / Fem!Reader (OC)

Inspired By (Song): Tu fotografía - Gloria Estefan

Warnings:Fluff. So much Angst. Insecurities. Post Snap. Post Avengers Endgame. Pre TFATWS.

Author’s Note:Hello. Hello. Hello. I hope everyone’s ok.

This fic is a second part of “Dust”. When I wrote Dust, automatically thought on a second part, and maybe It would be so so long posted in one post.

(If you don’t know, I write in the night)so… This is the final part of this fic. As always say, it’s a pleasure write with Bucky and maybe, just maybe, write a novel with him just to pull out of off my head.

He’s other of my movie’s crush with Poe Dameron.

Again, thanks u for the likes, comments and reblogs. Always made me smile to know that my stories makes you fun a little.

So I hope you like this one. XOXO

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I’m driving on the highway at a considerable speed trying to get to my destination quickly. The letter that Steve sent me through those FBI mens is on the passenger seat unopened but I know it contains something important.

His messages were always important.

I barely see out of the window that the great building of Avengers Headquarters appears in my vision, and I feel my heart race. Although I had never been there, something made me even more nervous.

I get out of the car quickly and before even crossing the doors of the building, I see that many people leave, some crying, others hugging others and some running quickly towards taxis that are stopped in the streets near it. The destinations were very different: Some went to the center, others that went to the different government offices and others directly to the airport.

What’s happening?

A police officer stops me and asks for my identification. The only thing I have with me is my little blue backpack and Steve’s letter in my hand.

I think about whether to show him the letter, but I open it and take out from inside it, a folded sheet of paper and a small card, as if it were a driver’s license, and I give it to the officer who steps away only when he sees it, indicating that I should enter through another of the doors that were empty. From a distance I can barely see the different sheets of paper stuck to the side of one of the doors where many people were reading and walking towards the taxis. The officer guides me until I enter through a door that could be for a giant and I sneak past what appear to be luxury cars totally covered by blue tarps.

-We were waiting for you, Miss Porter - The artificial voice makes me jump with fright and I turn towards the void, looking for the source where it comes from; but I can’t see a speaker, far from it, someone nearby - I’m sorry to scare you, my name is FRIDAY, I’m one of Mr. Stark’s technological assistants.

Stark.How long since I heard anything about that last name.

-Nothing. You just took me by surprise - I deny as I walk through that empty corridor and I see through the tinted windows how people are hugging, as if they had not seen each other a long time ago - What am I doing here? Why don’t the others come in this way?

-I’m sorry it was like that. Let me ask you a question: Did you read Captain Rogers’ letter? It was his exclusive request that you enter through here.

-No … - I answer lost in my thoughts and squeeze the letter in my hands, as if it were some kind of stress reliever that I had learned to use over the years, while I pay attention to the couple that is a few meters from me , who seems to be eager to touch, as if they have not been together a long time - I’ll do it at home.

-You must do it now before entering the main room.

I suddenly look at the threshold where I see silhouettes of people walking quickly from one side to the other. My breath catches in my throat as I feel fear invade me. What am I afraid of? Steve is on the other side waiting for me to give me another bad news? Tell me that he was gone forever like that time five years ago?

-Let me assure you that the content of that letter will not make you suffer more than you have suffered in these five years, Miss Porter.

I look at the letter and curse while I mentally complain about the ease I have to express my emotions, even more so when the opinion comes, from what I suppose, it is an AI.

-And how do you know that? How do you know that I suffered?

-Because Captain Rogers specially asked me to remind you if you didn’t get to read it - I laugh as I remember the many calls during my last two weeks of school, and the times I preferred to press the end button in order not to listen to Steve ask me if I was okay when we were both fully aware that neither he or I were - I know it was very hard for both you, and Captain Rogers, the loss of Sergeant Barnes.

Hearing his last name was as if someone had hit the pit of my stomach and the air suddenly escaped, without giving me the possibility of recovering it.

I try to take a deep breath but barely manage to take in a small breath of air before I feel a tear fall down my cheek.

It hadn’t been long since the snap when I realized how much I missed Bucky.

-It was not necessary to remember something that I’m still trying to forget.

I mumble as I walk to the door and hear children’s laughter, whispers about whether they were okay or how long they were out - What is out there?

-You must see it by yourself, miss. Let me tell you something: Captain Rogers was very sorry that he couldn’t say goodbye to you as he would have liked, but he wants you to know that he appreciates you in ways you can’t imagine.

-Thanks FRIDAY. He went on a trip?

-To live his life, miss. And he hopes that he can give it back some of yours.

I frown at her words and feel a breeze of fresh air come through the door and as soon as I cross the threshold, I hear Friday say the words that nail me to the place.

-Sergeant Barnes is waiting for you. He will be eager to see you again.

Bucky? Was this a joke? I try to open the note quickly but my fingers seem not to want to collaborate between the tremors and the nerves. How likely was the AI ​​to be wrong?

None.

As soon as I open the note I see some scribbles that I understand as the date, which is from a few days ago, and I read it quickly looking for those words that tell me that what FRIDAY said is true.

“I’m sorry I can’t say goodbye to you, Emma. I wish I could tell you this in person, but the circumstances of my trip make it impossible. What I can tell you is that I’ll be fine and that I’m coming home. It was a pleasure. meet you and I want you to do me a favor: Take care of him. He always looked after me, now it’s time for someone to take care of him. That idiot won the lottery with you, Emma. And you must make him notice it every day of his life. This is my gift to you, I know I couldn’t promise anything five years ago, but we did it, we won and James is here for you. I hope that’s enough. ”

I put my hands to my mouth, suppressing a sob, without finishing reading the letter and when I start looking for it with my eyes among so many people. Suddenly reality hits me: The people who were here, running, hugging, crying were those who had disappeared with the snap.

My God … He was here.

I walk towards one of the men who is dressed in red, with the Médecins Sans Frontières insignia and the words are stuck in my throat.

-Are you looking for someone special? Could you give me the details?

-Barnes. He’s here … Or so they told me - I keep looking with my eyes but I can’t make out anyone I usually know. There was no sign of either Natasha or Sam - Sam Wilson? He’s his partner.

The man looks at me as if horns have come out of my head and he approaches another young woman in black, who sees me and only nods to him. I show her the credential without waiting for an answer and she simply indicates the door that is a few meters from us.

-Porter, right? - I nod as if he were a robot and indicates the door to me again - Main hall. Gate 6.

-Thank you - I run while avoiding people, children who run into the arms of their parents and push others, but no one complains. As soon as I get to the door and let people in, I see Sam in the distance that he’s talking to someone I can’t recognize. Something inside me ignites and I feel my heart beating again. I can handle the urge to cry as much as I can but I can’t, as I feel the heat invade my cheeks.

He diverts attention from who’s talking to him, he sees me and starts laughing. That complicit and funny laugh that I haven’t seen in someone for a long time. Everything had become so sad that it seemed to be in a black and white movie. I can barely get Bucky’s name off my lips when Sam nods in my direction and slaps the arm of the man in front of him. He shakes his head, visibly annoyed, but Sam indicates where I am, making the stranger turn around.

I hold back a sigh as soon as I see him turn and look in Sam’s direction but he doesn’t seem to see me. People who cross between the two prevent it. His long hair was gone and a new haircut made him look more confident. Even more attractive. His eyes were still sad but in a way that he couldn’t quite interpret.

Good God, the need to touch him was such that it seemed to me that he was in a dream and that none of it was real.

I try to scream his name through the murmur but nothing comes out of my mouth and when I try again, the tears prevent me from speaking.

I walk quickly, closing the distance between us, but before I even reach the middle, fear takes hold of me again.

What if he doesn’t remember me in the same way that I remember him?

I see Sam roll his eyes as he grabs his shoulders, turns him around, and points him right in my direction: once our gazes meet, I can’t hold back the tears.

The only answer I get is a smile.

We both rush towards each other and I hardly feel the air getting heavy, I wrap my arms around him, as if he might disappear at any moment.

-You’re here. You don’t know how much I cried for you - I hear his laugh while I feel his lips leave kisses on my hair, as his hands try to touch any part of me that is within reach and as soon as he takes me by the arms he pulls me away, observing me from above down - I thought you were just another illusion in my head.

-Is it really you, Emma? - He hugged me again and I hear Sam mutter as he passed something about how “cheesy” we looked - Youlookdifferent.

-You were gone for a long time, James - he murmured against his chest while I enjoy the heat that his body gives off as well as the accelerated beats of his heart that are coupled with mine - When Steve told me that you had gone …

-Shh … don’t remember. I’m here, doll. I will never leave again.

He pulls away just to look at me for a few moments, I don’t know if he was looking for something or trying to remember something, but he just raised his hand to wipe the tears that were falling down my cheek.

- I have to catch you up on things here. - I try to get Steve’s letter out of my pocket but Bucky makes me look at him again.

-Before that….

The last thing my brain analyzes is the softness of his lips against mine. A gentle pressure and I feel like the floor disappears under me. I try to get up on tiptoe to get up to him and run my hands on his shoulders trying to bring him closer, but all I can do is wrap his arms around me and get even closer to him. He let my fingers play with his short hair and I love that feeling.

Hell, I missed his presence so much that it was hard for me to think about never having him around again.

He pulled me for air and I can tell his cheeks are just as red as mine - Bucky I …

-You don’t know how long I wanted to do that.

-For 6 years? - I joke as I approach again and take him by the hand.

-How old are you, Emma? The first time I met you, you were 25.

- I will turn 31 next week - I admit as he shakes his head and looks for someone with his eyes, when he does not find him, he lets out a growl - Who are you looking for?

-Sam. I’ll tell him we’re leaving - Answer my mental question and gently pull me towards one of the secluded rooms of the building where I hear murmurs from other people - I’ll catch up with you, doll.

I feel my cheeks heat up as I brake, causing Bucky to tense up - What do you mean?

-We will catch up on all aspects and I swear to you that you will hardly leave my department - I try to laugh but all I get is that a gasp escapes my lips causing me to give me a playful smile - In that aspect too, doll .

-Before you two go to do the things that are you going to do - I hear Sam’s voice in the distance and as soon as it enters our field of vision, I see him snorting - You know you must be with Raynor on Monday at 9 o'clock. Truth?

-And you had to remind me now?

-Yes, because I know you will not answer my messages and she will be the one who will remind you when you want to forget about it. Your head depends on it, Buck.

-Do not call me that way.

-Come on old man, go enjoy your life and stop getting mad at the world. You’re back and with your girl, and will you still be upset because I call you like Steve did?

I shift my gaze from one to the other and Bucky just extends his hand to Sam, who shakes it without hesitation.

-Take care of yourself, Wilson.

-You too Barnes. If you need me, you know where to find me.

I pulled me away from Bucky as I walk to the door and I feel like some of the pain is gone even though I still can’t assimilate that that’s true.

-Let’s go, doll?

-Let’s go.

I’m Yours

Character:Sam Wilson

Pairing:Sam Wilson / Fem!Reader (O.C)

Inspired by (Song): What a Man Gotta Do? - Jonas Brothers

Warnings:Nop. Fluff. Relationship.

Author’s Note: Hi!! How are you?

Here’s the second part of the “Lo que deba hacer”.

I tried to post it before but Tumblr don’t let me do it. So….

I hope so so much this fic likes you and thanks again for you comments, reblogs and likes. XOXO

Part 1 here!!!

Lo que deba hacer…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Part 2

Caught my heart about one, two times, don’t need to question the reason I’m yours, I’m yours.

I’d move the earth or lose a fight just to see you smile ‘Cause you got no flaws, no flaws

I’m not tryna be your part time lover, sign me up for that full time, I’m yours, all yours….

-You already know that you won’t be able to escape this anymore, Sam - Before he even answers and starts to complain, I let go of his grip and carefully hand him the box with the cake inside to take it to the car. He does it silently, but I know he’s thinking about how to go back and find an excuse not to attend the presentation.

To the introduction of him as Captain America.

The posters were everywhere, and the anxiety was palpable in the air, the children anxiously awaited the day when they would be able to see their hero in person and perhaps, they would come to greet him. Spider-Man had been long in the past with the announcement of Sam as America’s new Guardian.

-You will not say anything?

I ask as I see him come back to me with a serious expression and just shake his head, automatically wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into his arms.

That was his way of ending the subject.

I move away a little bit in his arms and pushed him away with my hands until there is a safe distance between us. Even though it had been more than a year since we started dating, the closeness of him still affected me like the first day.

-What are you afraid of?

-Nothing. Even more so when you are by my side.

-Sam ….

I feel his hands move up and down on my back and as soon as he try to get close to him again, I try to resist the force of him the way Bucky taught me.

-You know I don’t like exposure, honey. And this goes beyond exposure - his eyes are dull and concern fills his face. I feel his tense muscles under my hands and I don’t need to ask to know what he’s really worried about: We - I don’t want all this presentation to provoke anything in what we have.

-Do you think it would be easy take you away from me?

He starts laughing and kisses me on the neck as I tries to pull me away, so as not to fall prey to his charms.

-After what it cost me to get you to accept that date …

As promised that time, Sam came back the next day and didn’t find me there. After several dates and when we began to consider ourselves a stable couple, he admitted that he questioned Bucky and asked Torres to investigate me just with the idea of ​​knowing when he had days off.

He didn’t want to look like a psychopath. Of course not.

-I know you will be the new mascot of America, but it is what comes with you. And I accepted that the moment I said yes to that date. I knew what I was getting into when you walked through that door, Sam - I take his face between my hands and he turns to leave a kiss on the palm of my hand - This is the man I love, the one who tells me about his exploits and problems during the day and the one who takes care of me at night. Not the one who wears the tricolor suit every day.

He lets out a laugh as he pushes me against the nearest wall and his lips touch mine. If I had learned anything in the time that we had been dating, it was that Sam Wilson was a man who really needed contact. He needed to feel that he had things in his control, but more so, that I was in his territory. I kiss him back, trying to keep up with him but he always ends up engaging with mine.

When he walks away from me, our breaths are just as rough and the only thing I can do is rest my hand on his chest, level with his heart.

-Tomorrow, when you go up on that stage and see all those people there, he remembers to show them this. Your heart is what it counts, Wilson.

His eyes sparkle and he shakes his head as he kisses me again and quickly pulls away.

-My heart is yours, darling - I see him hesitate for a second and he walks away just keeping our control together - I know … I know we promised to keep this between us, and the people we love the most, but tomorrow, I would like the people know about you.

I tense up at his words cause every time that topic came up, we ended up fighting.

-Before you tell me something, I just want you to know that I’m committed to you. That I am only yours and there will be no one else.

-You don’t know that, Sam. Maybe in the future…

He reaches out and puts my hand on his heart again as his gaze meets mine. He used to do that when he wanted me to realize that he was serious.

-I’m yours, Charm. From the moment Bucky sent me for those cupcakes and walked into the bakery, this heart only beats for you.

-You will make me cry …

I blink trying not to let the tears win the battle and I let go of his grip. Another side I had discovered about him was that he was very romantic when he least wanted to.

-You will be there? - I give him his jacket that is on the bar and he begins to walk towards the door. I nod as I grab him by the collar of the shirt he’s wearing and give him a kiss. I pull away while he just smiles at me and pushes him towards the exit - I’ll see you tomorrow, darling.

-Goodbye, Captain.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

As soon as Sam appears on stage with the suit without the wings and with the shield in his back, the crowd around me erupts like they said everyone would get free dollars. Some cry, others laugh and many applaud. But what excites me most of all that is to see how people proudly applaud the new Captain America.

Sam walks to the edge of the stage and greets people, who only get even more ecstatic. I see him searching for something in the crowd and when Bucky walks up to his side, he points in my direction. The girls around me start screaming at the same time that I touch the shield that is on my shirt and I blow a kiss to Sam, who just laughs and approaches the journalist who is waiting for him.

-You have a lot of fans around here, Sam. The most important question here is the one that many women and men have present: Is Captain America available to fall in love?

The only thing I hear is Bucky’s laugh, who is next to Sam. Suddenly there is silence and Sam turns to where I am, while he removes part of the hood that he’s wearing, as well as his glasses.

- I am not a person who talks about his private life, but … No. I am not available because I am completely in love with my girl - I hear insults, curses and the occasional murmur from the crowd while Jenny gives me a light tap on the ribs - We both want this to be just between us and it will be, because rather than protect America, I choose to protect her.

His words make my heart start to race and my hands start to shake.

-I told you this the first time you agreed to go out with me and I will repeat it to you, darling: I don’t want to be your lover or your hobby, I want to be everything to you. And always, always will be yours. I have been since we have met.

OMG. If he keeps talking, my heart won’t resist.

-How cheesy - I glare at Bucky even though I know he doesn’t see me and I focus again on Sam, who is listening to something the journalist asks him.

-She’s here? Between the crowd? We would love to meet her.

I laugh at the same time that Sam shakes his head and I know I’ll have a serious talk with him later.

-Yes, but she is only mine. It’s enough that she should share me with the world and as my best friend said, I am one of the men who doesn’t like to share things.

Lo que deba hacer…

Character:Sam Wilson

Pairing:Sam Wilson / Fem!Reader (OC)

Inspired by (song):What a man gotta do? - Jonas Brothers.

Warnings:Nop. Fluff. First meetings. Mentions of Covid…

Author’s Note:Hello! Hello! I hope everyone’s well

Ok, this is the first fic that I write with our new Captain America, Sam Wilson.

Short story: I heard that JonasBrothers song and think in Sam in the moment. And I thought: Why not?

Here is the result: This is the first part because this fics has a another part that I hope can post tomorrow (That it’s a difficult thing ‘cause my university class are killing me, literally) but I’ll do my best. ☺️

I hope so so much that this fic likes you and thanks for the comments, likes and reblogs.

If you like my writes, please reblog it. ❤️❤️❤️

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Part 1

You ain’t tryna be wasting time on stupid people in cheap lines, I’m sure, I’m sure…

I’m not tryin’ to be your part-time lover. Sign me up for that full-time, I’m yours.

I’m yours.

-Excuse me, My friend sent me on a commission - I hear that voice in the distance and I feel that deja vu as if I had heard it before. I even have the feeling of knowing it.

-Name?

-James Barnes. The girl who always serve him knows him as Bucky.

Jenny laughs and mutters something I can’t hear. Wasn’t the sad-eyed boy outside? I focus on the cake in front of me, trying not to make mistakes in the new colors that identify Captain America, who was now the new obsession of all the children of the country.

-Charm, they are looking for you - Jenny enters my field of vision and I just raise my hands showing her that I have the shield in them and I was not going to leave it to deliver an order - It’s no excuse. You must go.

-Would you do me the favor of delivering it yourself?

-Nope. Go and then you’ll thank me.

She gently takes the sugar shield from my hands and hands me the package with Bucky’s order.

I shake my head as I leave the kitchen and look around for the avenger’s possible delivery, but none of them fit the guy. Most of the men were keeping an eye on the people they were chatting with, and there were none waiting on the other side of the bar for the order.

-Tam? - My best friend turns around and as soon as I show her the package, she is simply pointing to the door with a “happy birthday”smile.

What the hell is wrong with her?

The sound of the door bell makes me look and as I put the green package on the table, I feel my cheeks start to heat up. The object of my deepest desires was there.

Captain America was at the bakery looking for a damn cake for his friend.

Oh my god … I think as I try to remove my blue apron, which is full of traces of cream of white and red colors, but I feel that the knot in my back becomes impossible to remove and I give up with a sigh.

“Ok, Charm. You have to calm down. He is the man you dreamed of the last few months, so you must behave like a decent woman since he will not respond as he usually does in your dreams”

-This is mine? - I lift my head quickly as Sam sees me with a smile and nodded at my apron - Nice color combination. I like it.

God save me from that. Why do I feel like the world is reeling?

-Sure, if you’re here to pick up Bucky’s order - I push the two small boxes towards him while he puts the cell phone in the pocket of the brown leather jacket he wears and walks a little closer to the bar. Hell, he was even more attractive in person, and I wished for a second that the image of him in his suit didn’t invade my thoughts.

That was my damn weakness.

People knew who he was but we all knew that he was too private a person to bother him on the street. That’s why they only came over to pat him on the shoulder or simply bowed their heads to him.

-Yes, I’m babysitting.

We both laugh and I bite my lip, hesitating whether to ask. It was customary for Bucky to spend his mornings here, and that he didn’t come is very strange to me.

-Is James okay?

Sam laughs as he leans calmly and confidently on the bar and lets out a heavy sigh, as if something about that question bothers him.

-I could say yes. He has the “cold” - I nod when I notice that he refers to the Covid, that disease that kept us on edge for so long and that today was considered just another cold - He asked me to come for his order on my way home.

-Shouldn’t you be isolated?

That question comes off my lips like I’m talking to Jenny, and I shrug at that rush of confidence.

-No, because contrary to what many people believe, I do not live with Buck.

I laugh as I feel Sam’s gaze on me and that attention makes me even more nervous, in a way that I find charming.

-It’s not exactly what he says. If you are that friend that he talks about so much, he says that you are not one of those who share things.

I hear him curse as he looks away and waves to those watching him at a table in the distance. The four young women who see him smile at him as if it were a trophy they want to get, something that I notice makes him feel uncomfortable.

-I’ll rip off that bastard’s arm.

I barely pushed me away with my hands up and he tries to get closer, perhaps preventing me from walking away if he could get past the bar. Which wouldn’t be difficult for him if he’s used to jumping off a building.

-That does not sound good at all - I approach while I extend my hand towards him, who takes it without even hesitating and a spark seems to jump in the place where our hands are joined - I’m Charm, by the way.

-Sam, Bucky’s “tight-fisted” partner.

-It’s hard not to recognize you.

I wanted to let go of his hand but he wouldn’t let me apart.

-So you know who I am?

That dazzling and shy smile made me realize that Sam Wilson is not one of the men to be good for popularity. Rather, they escape from it.

-It’s hard not to know when a man with a bionic arm comes to breakfast every day and talks proudly that his partner is Captain America - Sam drops his head while smiling and I feel my heart melt like butter in contact with fire. That gesture seemed to me the most adorable - Besides that you are the new obsession of everyone around here. Children love you.

-Just the kids? - The tone of his voice changes and I feel that he becomes softer when pronouncing those words. Was that some kind of flirtation?-You’ll make me feel really bad if it’s just childish fanaticism.

-That’s what the cakes I decorate every day say. Your admirers range from 2 years to 15 - I admit while trying not to laugh at the expression of feigned disappointment that appears on his face, I even maintain the image would be regarding my childish analysis and in a moment, I push my hand away for more than wish the warm contact - My nephew Katriel loves you. And he’s only 3.

He nods as he looks around.

-Buck always talks to me about this place, especially how well they treat him … And sometimes, he only talks about you sometimes - He approaches over the bar, as if he wants to keep that between us - I think he wants to have you alone for him.

I blush at his words and shake my head.

If you knew ….

-If that were the case, it would be a shame if he is getting his hopes up, since I’m interested in someone else.

I play with a small envelope of green tea in my hands and if I even doubt it, Sam takes it from me, he approaches to ask Tam for a pen, who sees him as if he were a delicious sweet as he hands it to her, and write something on it before putting it back in front of me.

-I would like to continue with this but I feel in my pocket Bucky’s insistence on why I’m not in his department with the blessed cake.

I looked down for a moment the paper and I see a number. His number.

-Actually, they’re cupcakes.

I see him roll his eyes as he smiles at me and indicates the tea bag between us as he takes the two boxes in one of his hands.

-In fact, tomorrow maybe I’ll try again these delicacies that have enchanted a certain white wolf.

-They will be waiting for you.

I respond by trying not to get my hopes up about seeing him here tomorrow and even try to appear indifferent, but something gives me away because he gives me a mischievous smile as he walks away from the bar.

-I’ll only come if you are here, darling.

-And why are you so sure I’ll be waiting for you?

-Instinct. I think there may be something important between us.

-That’s how they all begin … - He frowns at my words and I shrug as he remains still.

-I’m not like the others.

-I don’t know you.

-But you will.

-Whatever you say, Mr. Trust. Or should I say, Mr. America.

Tam, who is pouring coffee next to me, lets out a laugh and mutters under her breath “America’s Ass” that makes me choke on my own laugh.

- I heard that, girl - We both blush at that proposal he makes to Tam and after pointing her out to her, he indicates to me as if I were guilty of something - You remain as a witness, Charm will marry me.

I gasp for words to rebut that, but my brain fails for a second and I just shake my head. I sure look like an idiot.

-Whatever you say, Captain.

-You will do it. You’ll see - Something in his words makes me shiver and I don’t doubt that. It seemed like a promise he was willing to keep.

And worst of all, instead of freaking out, I liked the idea.

-Didn’t you have to go, Sam?

-I’ll come for you, darling. As many times as it takes - he walks to the door after saying goodbye to Tam and just gives me a smile that could melt any woman on the road - And one more thing, don’t make plans after work. You already have them with me.

His scream is heard all the way to the kitchen, which makes Jenny come out of it with some pieces of candy tangled in her hair that I don’t even want to ask how they got there and for the first time in a long time I feel the stares of everyone present about me.

-Is that what I think it was? Did Sam Wilson just ask you out?

-I never said yes - I try to avoid looking Jenny in the eye because unfortunately she knew of my infatuation with Sam and she would see that the idea of ​​a possible date was very tempting for my mind and my heart - Besides, he will give up easy .

-I don’t believe that him is the type of men who give up the first time. It seems one of those who insist until he get what he want.

-I don’t see it that way. Maybe it won’t even get anywhere. Besides, he doesn’t know that tomorrow is my day off.

Jenny rolls her eyes as she hands me another sugar shield she just entered the kitchen and indicates the shield as if it were a spellbound object.

-Don’t forget you’re talking about the new Captain America. Giving up, we both know, is not an option for him.

And time would prove her right.

Cupcake

Character: James Bucky Barnes

Song:???

Pairing: James Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader (Original Female Character)

Warnings: Nothing. Fluff. Domestic fluff. Baking. Nightmares. First meeting. (Cupcake here is a Cake in a mug, not a muffin. I hope you all understand me)

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! This is… The first fic that I posted in English. So I’d like to say some things about it before you start reading.

First: English isn’t my fist language. It’s Spanish (I’m from Argentina)

Second: My English writing sucks. So maybe I help myself with Google Translate. (I know it’s not the best thing to do but… This help me to guide my poor write)

Three:I made the corrections and everything and this is the result ‍♀️ I tried to do my best, don’t be so rude to me, please. I’m trying and I’m working to do it well by myself.

(I’m not proud about this (using Google T) and if my teacher’s English see this, she’s going to kill me)

Four: I hope from the bottom of my heart that this fic like you so much that I love write it. So, thanks you for your likes and comments. It’s means so much for me.

I’ll wait for your comments about this.

XOXO

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

I quickly climb the stairs of the building looking for the relief that the fresh air gives to my thoughts and yes, I didn’t even bother to take off my pijamas when I know that I will be alone there, only in the company of the stars.

When I feel the moonlight coming through the small window above the door, I take a deep breath and as soon as I pull the door and I thank God for create the air. The moment when I feel that the situation is overwhelming me and the air begins to escape from my throat, preventing me from breathing, makes me want to disappear.

I walk quickly between the different chimneys and when I get to that favorite place, from where I can see part of the city, I find that someone is sitting a few meters from what I already consider myplace.

I hadn’t seen him before, so I guess he must be who Camille told me that moved into the building. I remember hearing something about his attractiveness and that he seemed sad.

I shake my head as I wait a few seconds to see if he will go away, but I can see that his profile is lit by the moon and looks like an expertly carved piece of marble. I move a little closer to the opposite end of that fireplace that hides me and a sigh escapes me.

OMG. Camille had failed of using the adjective “attractive.”

He looks like one of those Greek gods that are described in the stories I’m used to read because every detail of his face seemed perfect to me.

He was wearing only a white T-shirt and black joggins. Imagine that is his pijama.

If it looks good with just that, imagine him wearing dress clothes, like a suit.

-You don’t have to hide, your steps are too noisy.

I shudder to hear it and I feel moves inside me. I can’t explain what it is, but I feel strange. Did I feel a flutter of butterflies in my stomach? What the hell is wrong with you any this stranger? I reprimand myself while I hesitate to move forward, but something seems to pull me towards that place.

I walk slowly towards the small cement seat that is against one of the emergency stairs that remain closed and the stranger turns, giving me a slight smile.

-I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry - I admit as he responds with a nod and looks back at the city.

-Probably, I scared you, doll.

Scare me? Hell, if beauty were scary …

-Why should I be scared of you?

-It’s the first reaction of people when they see me.

I barely notice in the darkness of the night that one of his arms is black with what seems to be gold trim and reality hits me: he is Captain America’s partner. The man who everyone called and still calls, The Winter Soldier. The one who has a long line of homicides on his shoulders because of Hydra, and that said the files declassified by the Sokovia Accords that Cameron read aloud as soon she presented a conference at the UN about the public life of each of those members to the group called “The Avengers.”

For me, he is just a man who had the misfortune of being the victim of psychopaths.

-I don’t see it that way. In fact, you don’t look scary.

-Don’t you know who I am?

-Yes I know. I’m not very good at all superhero’s things, but my best friend is a lecturer at the United Nations, and she’s in love with your partner, by the way.

I managed to get Bucky smile without even looking away from his target. He was even more attractive when he smile.

-Rogers is not available, so sorry.

-I wasn’t talking about Rogers, I’m talking about Wilson. I admitted that the suit makes him more attractive, especially for my friend.

This time, I heard him laugh as he turns and leans on the edge of the building’s border ours. For a moment, I think about the fall, but I remember that he’s an expert at superhero’s falls.

-My name is James, but everyone knows me by Bucky, I guess you already know that.

He extend his hand to me and I take it without hesitation. As soon as our fingers touch, a spark seems to come out between us and we laugh and I move off quickly. I should go and hug a tree, as my grandfather used to say when I was little.

-Maybe, but It’s the first time I saw you in person, so it doesn’t count. I’m Emma, ​​by the way. I live in the 3A.

-I moved to 3E yesterday - I heard him say while I look with curiosity at the distance as the Empire State Building greets us with that of lights that today, after several years of living with its busy streets, makes me unmistakable - Do you come up here often?

-Only when I can’t sleep. In this case, I’m not sleepy, what about you?

-The same. I usually have nightmares at night that barely let me sleep.

I don’t dare to ask about it, as much as my curiosity wants to make an appearance.

-And being out here relaxes you?

-The air clears my mind.

-Mine too. I think a lot when I can’t sleep - I see that he stays staring at me like he expects that I continued my talk but I just let out a sigh - You know, when I can’t sleep, and I can’t go up here, I.. make cookies or bake a cake.

-At … - He looks at his watch and frowns - 3 in the morning?

-Let me tell you something: One time, I baked a cake at 5 in the morning when I had a college class at 8. Weird people’s stuff.

-I understand about it - He moves his left arm and I smiled - but cooking at 5 in the morning is unimaginable for me.

-You take off the fun of life, Barnes.

He laughs at me as he lets out a sigh and clasps his hands in his lap. This man is one of those who maybe, he needs a little fun in his life. Or maybe something sweet.

I get up and wave for him to follow me. When I noticed he’s not moving, I stand in front of him and hold out my hand for him to take it.

-Come with me…

-Where?

-My department. I’m going to show you how fun can be baking at this time.

He barely opens his mouth to refuse, but something in my gaze made his blue eyes soften and he takes my hand, while he let me guide him down the stairs.

I let go his hand as soon as we get to the stairs.

-Why do you trust people so fast? - His voice behind me made a chill run through my body, but despite the strangeness of my behavior, there was something about him that made me not afraid, but rather that I felt protected - You shouldn’t do it.

-But I trust you-And worst of all is that it scares me. A lot.

-Aren’t you afraid of me?

I barely feel the doubt and fear in his voice, I feel a lump form in my throat, preventing me from breathing for a second. He feel like a little boy who was unsure of his actions, and I remember that this man is just like a young man who has just come out into the world around him.

-No - I say sincerely - Should I?

-I’ve done things I’ll never be proud of and I know you know it.

I hear his footsteps following mine as we descend and once I see the number that indicates the floor, I snort. The worst thing about enjoying the terrace were the stairs, especially when you had to go down.

Another thing: I forgot to mention that the elevator is broken, right?

-And who says I haven’t done something like what you did and you don’t know? - His silence confirmed that I had won that little battle and I don’t contain my smile, even though he doesn’t see it - Introverts aren’t always good, take note of it.

-You don’t look like someone with a split personality.

-Neither you. So we’re the same - When we get to our floor, I walk quickly so that AJ, our oldest neighbor in the building, who is 102 years old, doesn’t scold us for the noise at 3 am. I turn around to face him, making the blue-eyed jump and indicate my door - another thing: I don’t anyone let in my department, that’s means my Hobbit hole.

I turn around as I open the door, turning on the lights as I pass, and I hear him release a breath of air as if my statement had surprised him.

-Did you read the Hobbit? - I don’t have to turn around to hear the surprise and excitement in his voice.

Another book lover like me.

-Who doesn’t? It’s an amazing book that everyone should read once in a lifetime.

I walk quickly to the kitchen as I watch him gently close the door and stare at the library that occupies the entire wall. Although the vast majority of books are romantic and science fiction titles, there are some research and science volumes, as well as that collection of DVDs that I refuse to let it go.

I hear my little cat Charm meow and bend down to pamper him as I hear Bucky’s footsteps approach the counter. I take two aprons from under the island and hand him one without looking at him.

-Let me warn you, that you don’t bake without getting dirty. Put it on.

He gives me a smile and puts on the apron without hesitation. As soon as I take out all the ingredients and have them on the table, I look for the cups, a bowl and the mixer.

When I see him again, he is still in the same place, too adorable in a pink apron that looks great on him.

-Come on, sergeant. Come here and do what I tell you - He rolls his eyes and I tell him slowly what to do, placing the ingredients one by one in the bowl and when he turns on the mixer for the first time, I know that tomorrow’s kitchen disaster will be fatal.

We laughed, we joked, we ended up full of flour all over the place, but the icing on the cake was my neighbor’s face when I told him we were preparing.

-This is too liquid for making cookies. Didn’t you get the wrong recipe? - He picks up the whisk and the soft yellow mass falls like water.

I feel his confidence increasing, as does mine.

-I never said we would make cookies - he turns to look at me and laugh I barely see that he has flour even in his hair. I raise my hand to shake his hair out but stay halfway, wondering if the action was too intimate for both of us. He bends down, to be a little more at my height, leaving his head at the level of my hand and I blush as I shake his hair, which is soft to the touch. He blushes when he turns away from me and our eyes meet - There is no insomnia that doesn’t solve with a cupcake.

-In a cup?

-Sure, I learned it from the internet - I serve the mixture in two cups, I place them in the microwave for three minutes and once they are ready, I leave them on the table, with two spoons and a pot of cream between them - Sweet cures the soul.

-If you say it…

We sit and eat in silence. Each other concentrated in the cup in front of us, without saying a word. Charm comes up to the table demanding attention and I give her a small piece of the cake. Bucky stares at me for a second and smiles again.

-Thanks for this - his murmur makes me blush. My little yellow cat approaches Bucky and begins to purr next to him as soon as he caresses him with his bionic arm - Hello kitten.

-You’re welcome. Whenever you need it, my door will be open for you - He just nods and flour still falls from his head. We both laugh and he puts the cup between us.

-To baking at dawn?

-Sure! To chat at noon or if you want, we could have reading nights before going to sleep. That also helps when you can’t do it.

-I like the idea, Emma.

I can barely contain a yawn when I notice the dream start to make an appearance and I see Bucky get up quickly.

-Go to sleep, doll. This cupcake is having an effect on both of us - Bucky indicates the cup as if it had something strange in it - Did you do magic with it?

-The magic of pastry.

He shakes his head, showing an funny expression and I smiled back, trying to avoid the fact that about how much I like that nickname directed at me.

I walk him to the door and I lean on it as soon as he comes out into the hall. The image of him will probably be part of my dreams for the rest of the night. I take a look at the clock and at 4:30 am.

That rest of the night wouldn’t be that long.

-Thanks again for this, doll.

-My pleasure, Sergeant - I make a sign of those that are made to the officers and he lets out a laugh, pleased with my poor gesture. Doubt assails me, wondering if I will share a moment like this with him again, as I watch him walk a few steps away and he stops, as if he had forgotten something.

He turns around, taking a deep breath. I notice him hesitating in his movements and he opens his mouth to say something but apparently he regrets it.

Seeing him unsure of his actions despite being someone that society fears and at the same time admires, is one of the most adorable things in the world.

-James? - He raises his head at the sound of his name.

-Can I see you again tomorrow, doll? - He says that quickly making my heart start beating so fast - We can have lunch together, if you want.

-I’d love it.

-Maybe, we can cook together.

-Done!

ElMejorRegalo

Character: Helmut Zemo

Pairing: Helmut Zemo/ Fem!Reader.

Warmings: Nope. Funny. Fluff. Christmas thing (I know it’s april, but… This is me).

Inspired by (Song):I’ll be your Santa Tonight - Keith Urban

Notes:Hello, it’s me again. First of all, thanks you for the comments and likes in my fics.

It’s so important to me see that things, that’s makes me keep writing more for you.

SECOND:Why I am writing about Christmas at this time of the year?

If you don’t know, I LOVE Christmas.

With all my heart, and I have songs about Christmas in my playlist so… Keith Urban started saying “about Santa” and other things and one picture came to my head at the moment and this is how it ends.

¿Zemo dressed like Santa?

I hope so much this fic likes you. Thanks u for the likes and takes your time for reading my stories. I’ll wait some comments or suggestions or likes!!

XOXO

_——.——.—–.—–.—–_

Apenas noto que comienza a nevar, pero lo único que no puedo evitar escuchar es al hombre del clima hablar sobre el cierre de los aeropuertos así como de las constantes heladas que provienen desde Alaska.

Maldito Circulo Polar.

Me quitó la que aparentaba ser la mejor navidad de mi vida.

Miro el calendario y el numero 24 me saluda entre risas, mientras recuerdo soltando un suspiro como hace unos días, Sam me llamó diciéndome que estaban varados por el mal tiempo en Barcelona y que no había posibilidad de que consiguieran un vuelo hasta después de Navidad. Lo escuche quejarse sobre el gobierno, que no les dejaba usar el Quinjet a menos que fuera por una urgencia de estado, del mal clima e incluso de Bucky, a quien podía escuchar a su lado diciéndole su típico “te lo dije” acompañado de sus explicaciones sobre tener la razón de sugerir viajar antes. .

Al fin y al cabo, pasaría navidades sola.

Apenas son las 11 de la noche cuando el timbre suena y apenas abro la puerta, no hay nadie, solamente hay un pequeño regalo en el suelo. Sonrío apenas noto de quien proviene.

¿Olvide decir que también el mal clima detuvo a Zemo en Riga?

Tomo la pequeña caja de color violeta, acompañada de un lazo blanco brillante y un sobre rojo, entre mis manos y apenas la abro, suelto un suspiro de satisfacción al tocar con delicadeza el pequeño dije con forma de flor de nochebuena acompañado de un muérdago, que está colgado de una pulsera de metal de color rosa viejo.

Y conociendo a Zemo, aquella pulsera debía valer más que el alquiler de 10 años de mí departamento.

“Me gustaría que este regalo fuera real para poder besarte debajo de él, o siquiera intentarlo-Siento que mí corazón comienza a golpear con fuerza contra mis costillas ante sus palabras. Nunca habíamos hablado sobre las miradas cómplices que intercambiábamos o los momentos de silencio que hablaban por si solos, donde podía sentir el rechinar de los dientes de Bucky o los sonidos de molestia de Sam ante aquella normalidad con la que me manejaba con Helmut. Por inercia miro el muérdago que está colgado sobre mí cabeza en el umbral y suelto una risa nerviosa mientras maldigo en distintos idiomas a la tormenta -Siento no poder estar ahí para compartir esta hermosa noche contigo, cariño. Pero creo que Santa Claus llegará temprano para ti está noche. Piensa en mí cuando den las 12, porque estaré pensando en ti”

Sostengo la carta contra mi pecho mientras suelto un suspiro de frustración y vuelvo a maldecir a la tormenta.

Es increíble como, pudo volar un camión desde una cárcel pero lo frena una tormenta de nieve.

Las ironías de de la vida…

Cierro la puerta mientras dejo el pequeño regalo sobre la mesita en el centro de la sala de estar y me coloco la pulsera deprisa, sintiendo como los pequeños dijes me hacen cosquillas y me recuerdan que él está aquí de alguna manera.

Miro por la ventana como el manto blanco invade las calles y no hay rastro de ningún alma sobre ellas.

El reflejo de mí pijama de muérdagos hace que recuerde por qué amo esta fiesta y no puedo evitar sonreír. Cualquier cosa podría pasar en Navidad.

Mí celular comienza a sonar y apenas contesto la llamada, escucho a Sam quejarse sobre el maldito clima en sus propias palabras mientras escucho los lamentos de Bucky de fondo. Ambos se disculpan por una de las pocas que no pueden controlar.

- Saben que con esta llamada me hacen más que feliz, chicos.

- Pero realmente queríamos estar ahí contigo, pequeña - La voz de Sam suena triste y no puedo evitar que una lágrima caiga por mi mejilla.

- La harás llorar, Samuel. Cállate.

Me río intentando que no noten que ya estoy llorando pero mí silencio me delata ante las habilidades especiales de Bucky.

-No llores muñequita. Que no puedo abrazarte si lo haces - Las cálidas palabras de Bucky me sacan una sonrisa pero las lagrimas no se detienen.

Me había hecho dependiente de aquellos tres hombres de una manera que no pensé que fuera posible, pero con Bucky tenía una relación en particular.

Haría lo que fuera porque él fuera feliz. Y sabía que él haría lo mismo por mí.

-Deja de llorar que no tengo forma de llegar hasta allí.

Escucho su voz clara y se que le quitó el teléfono a Sam - Quiero que tengas una buena noche, que comas mucho pastel en mí nombre - Un “nuestro” se escucha de Sam a lo lejos y Bucky ríe - y por lo menos espero que nuestros regalos lleguen a tiempo.

Ni siquiera menciono que el de Zemo ya está aquí sino entrarían en cólera.

-Está bien. Lo haré solo por ti, Barnes.

-Esa es mí muñequita - Miro el dije mientras escucho que Sam vuelve a quejarse seguido del sonido de una puerta cerrarse - No olvides lo mucho que te quiero y que siempre agradezco haberme chocado contigo en ese café cerca de tu departamento.

El es mí querido hermano mayor, el que siempre quise y desee tener. Y después viene Sam, solo que él no lo sabe.

-Nunca lo olvido. Te quiero. Cuida a Sam y dale un beso de mí parte - Apenas le prestó atención a sus quejas sobre besar a Sam, pero su tono molesto me hace reír - Feliz navidad.

-Santa llegara pronto para ti, pequeña. Feliz navidad.

Cortó la llamada antes de que siga llorando y caigo en la cuenta de que utilizo la misma frase que Zemo en su carta. ¿Quizás sería una frase que está de moda?

Niego con la cabeza mientras camino hacia la cocina y escucho de fondo el conteo de la televisión indicándome que faltan 15 minutos para las 12.

Me sirvo una taza de chocolate caliente y antes de sentarme a ver las mismas películas navideñas de todos los años, me interrumpe el sonido del timbre, por segunda vez en la noche.

Antes siquiera de que haga un paso hacia la puerta, comienza a sonar mí teléfono. Lo tomo y contesto sin mirar el número mientras veo por la mirilla de la puerta pero veo algo blanco tapando la visión del pasillo, que está empapelado con un llamativo y horrible color verde.

-¿Hola?

“Princesa” - Me apoyo contra la puerta al mismo tiempo en que me pierdo en la tranquilidad de su voz y en la forma en la que me siento halagada al saber que esa palabra va dirigida hacia mí - “¿Interrumpo?”

-Helmut…- Respondo haciendo que mi voz no salga mezclada con un suspiro al escucharlo y me concentro en lo que sea que este afuera - No, no interrumpes mucho. ¿No deberías estar en la cama a estas horas?

“No me parecía justo no llamarte antes de que dieran las doce”

- Gracias por el regalo - Vuelvo a espiar por la mirilla y el color blanco sigue allí. Tecleo deprisa un mensaje a Jolene, del 3ro para que salga a ver el pasillo pero no recibo respuesta - No te hubieras molestado.

“Nunca me molesta hacerte obsequios, princesa. Mientras ellos sean los que me representen cuando no pueda estar allí. Cómo ahora”

-¿Cuándo lo enviaste? - Digo mientras trato de no pensar el efecto que tienen sus palabras sobre mi.

“Tengo la costumbre de enviar los regalos primero por si suele surgir un inconveniente” - Murmura algo distraído y alejo el teléfono mientras veo que no hay respuesta de mí vecina - “¿Estoy molestándote?”

- ¡No! No… Es solo que tocaron el timbre y…

“Deberías atender. Quizás sea importante” - Me corta apenas quiero continuar la oración y escucho lo que parecen autos a lo lejos. ¿Qué puede ser mas importante que hablar contigo cuando deberías estar aquí? quiero responder, pero me muerdo la lengua antes de que las palabras salgan de mis labios - “Solo quería que sepas que… Me haces feliz de una manera que no puedo poner en palabras, y te mereces el mundo por ello”

-Helmut.. me harás llorar - Apenas siento que las lagrimas pelean por salir. Estos hombres harían que inunde el departamento por tanto llorar.

“Quisiera borrar esas lágrimas con besos y reemplazarlas con caricias. Pero considero que la distancia no quiere que cumpla mí objetivo”

¡Al demonio la distancia! Quise contestar pero el movimiento al otro lado de la mirilla me distrajo, ahora el blanco era brillante, como el aspecto de una pequeña bola de nieve.

“Abre esa puerta, princesa. Luego me lo agradecerás. Feliz navidad”

La llamada se cortó, dejándome aún más confundida y automáticamente abro la puerta para encontrarme que el blanco pertenece a la pequeña bolita que finaliza el gorro de un Santa Claus que está de espaldas hacia mí.

Algo en mí corazón se detiene apenas las palabras de Zemo hacen efecto y veo con emoción a aquel hombre desconocido, esperando que se voltee y me entregué lo que sea que deba darme.

- ¿Señor? ¿Tiene algo para mí?

El Santa no contesta. Solo mueve la cabeza, indicando que si. Espero que me lo entregue y nada.

¿Qué diablos ocurre con este mensajero?

Tomo de nuevo el celular para enviarle un mensaje a Zemo sobre esto, pero me interrumpe ver de reojo que el extraño Santa busca algo en el bolso de mano rojo que lleva y saca un cartel, haciendo que vuelva mí atención hacia él.

-“Debes voltearte para recibir la sorpresa” - Leo en voz alta y dudo de aquella acción.

¿Y si era un psicópata tratando de encontrar a su próxima presa?

Veo que Santa busca otro cartel más pequeño, donde declara que es una buena persona. Marcando el “buena” entre comillas, como si no estuviera tan convencido de ello.

Ahora Santa lee mentes. Genial.

El individuo me hace señas con la mano, indicándome que me diera vuelta. Alzó las cejas apenas noto que da golpecitos en el suelo, reflejando su impaciencia.

Suelto un suspiro de frustración y me volteo entre murmullos de quejas.

Pasan los segundos y nada. No hay respuesta. Solo escucho pasos que se acercan hacia mí, pero en todo momento que duran los movimientos, no siento miedo.

Solo curiosidad. ¿Porque Zemo mandaría a alguien disfrazado de Santa a mí departamento?

Mí celular se ilumina con un mensaje nuevo, de parte de Zemo.

“¿Acaso no merezco un saludo, Princesa?”

Me tenso apenas leo el mensaje y la confusión hace acto de presencia. ¿Saludarlo? Pero si acaso está en…

- Antes de que digas algo… - Me volteo al escuchar su voz y suelto un suspiro con lo que veo: Santa Claus se había desprendido la chaqueta para revelar una camisa bordó, que hacia claro contraste con sus pantalones rojos, la pequeña bolsa estaba en el suelo y en compañía de otra que no había notado, de la cual sobresalía una etiqueta rosa de Moet.

Para cuando llegue al rostro, me encontré con Helmut sonriéndome, de seguro disfrutando de la expresión de sorpresa que había en mi rostro.

¿Acaso Helmut Zemo, aquél hombre que separó a los Vengadores e hizo añicos la conciencia de uno de mis mejores amigos, ahora regenerado, estaba realmente vestido de Santa Claus en Navidad?

- Sorpresa, princesa.

Lo único que atino a hacer y que lamentablemente no puedo contener es la risa. Comienzo a reír mientras veo su expresión confundida y me rio con mas ganas. No se si los nervios, la sorpresa o la incredulidad aumentan mis risas, pero de reojo, lo veo apoyarse contra el marco de la puerta y lo escucho suspirar. Un suspiro largo y pesado escapa de sus labios mientras ve que apenas puedo mantenerme parada por la risa.

- Y yo que creí que esto sería una buena idea.

-Lo es - Murmuro entre risas, mientras siento que los revoltijos provocados por las risas en mí estómago son reemplazados por mariposas que hacen que esté duela de tanto moverse. Aquel hombre hosco y arrogante estaba humillándose, poniéndose ese traje solo para sorprenderme en Navidad - Es el regalo perfecto. Eres el regalo perfecto, Helmut.

- Diría más bien que soy el entretenimiento perfecto.

Los dos nos quedamos en silencio mientras me acercaba un paso y dudaba en que, si quizás lo tocaba, desaparecería de mi vista y me despertaría del extraño sueño que estaba teniendo.

-¿En verdad estás aquí?

- Si te acercas podrás descubrirlo - No me muevo, pero él lo hace, acomodando un mechón de cabello detrás de mi oreja, dejando su mano sobre mi rostro - Les pedí a James y Samuel que me dejaran pasar está noche contigo…

-¿Por eso no vinieron?

- No, en realidad, quedaron varados en Barcelona. Pero si llegaban iban a inventar una excusa tonta para que pudiera quedarme contigo a solas. Les asegure a ambos que no tenia malas intenciones antes siquiera de comentarles sobre esto.

- ¿Les tienes miedo?

- No, pero Samuel con el traje es… imponente. Y no quiero provocar la ira de James.

Suelto una risa mientras le muestro que tengo su regalo puesto y simplemente me sonríe, haciendo ese típico movimiento de cabeza característico suyo.

-¿Y que me dices del regalo? ¿Te gustó?

- Me encanta.

-Es oro rosa, lo pedí especialmente para ti

-A mí lo único que me interesa es que me lo hayas dado tú. Y que estés aquí…

Se vuelve torpemente a tomar la bolsa y me la entrega con mucho cuidado, apenas veo que hay un par de copas, típico de Zemo que se niega a tomar un espumante en una taza o un vaso, chocolates y lo que parecen ser delicias turcas.

- Traje un par de cosas para que cenemos juntos. Se que no es lo que yo hubiera querido… - Lo noto tenso mientras dice esas palabras y conociéndolo lo suficiente, se que hubiera querido cenar fuera, pero se adapto bastante bien a la idea de quedarse en un departamento sin hacer nada de su estilo glamoroso, aunque estaba un poco nervioso ante la idea de quedarse en pijama toda la noche - Pero quería hacerte feliz y eso es lo que mas me importa. Verte sonreír.

Dejo la bolsa con delicadeza sobre la mesita que está al lado de la puerta y sin un atisbo de duda, lo tomo de ambas solapas del traje de Santa y presiono mis labios contra los suyos, mientras lo empujo contra la pared del pasillo.

Por más de que mis acciones fueran las de una mujer atrevida, sentía que estaba dándole la oportunidad de ver qué quería intentar algo con él. Que estaba dispuesta a arriesgarme con lo que fuera que pudiera decirme.

Siento sus manos subir por mis brazos, mientras apenas se separa y esta vez es él quien me empuja contra la pared, besándome como si su vida dependiera de ello. Puedo sentirlo sonreír entre los momentos en que nuestros labios no están tocándose, pero cada qué ocurre siento que mí corazón se detiene.

Es suave, delicado y posesivo al mismo tiempo. Apenas meto las manos por debajo del saco de Santa, puedo sentir como los musculos de su espalda se relajan ante mí toque, haciéndome sentir poderosa al tener algún tipo de efecto sobre él.

Me presiona un poco más contra él y se aparta solo cuando escucha los gritos y los fuegos artificiales a nuestro alrededor. Me vuelvo hacia la puerta y veo que el reloj que está sobre la ventana de la sala indican las 00:03.

- Feliz navidad, princesa.

Vuelve a presionar sus labios contra los míos y cuando me deja salir de sus brazos, me apartó lo suficiente para tomarlo de la mano y guiarlo hacia el departamento.

-¿Podemos dejar la cena para después? Porque en verdad me gustaría que te quitarás el traje. Me distraes mucho con el. - Cierro la puerta mientras disfruto de su imagen en ropas rojas.

-Si no es de tu agrado… - Comienza a quitarse el saco, pero lo detengo negando con las manos.

- Nunca dije que no lo fuera - Me muerdo el labio inferior mientras hace ese movimiento de cabeza que no se que tiene pero me deja sin habla - Simplemente tengo ganas de quitártelo. Y no quiero dejarme llevar por ese pensamiento.

Vuelve a colocarse el saco y me dedica una de sus sonrisas llenas de arrogancia que derrochan seguridad. Y que además, son completamente atractivas.

- ¿Quieres dejarte llevar conmigo, princesa?

- Me encantaría, Santa.