Jealousy, Jealousy

clingy

Steve Rogers x reader

A/N I'm sorry for not posting for a few days, I will catch up but my son has been ill and I've been focusing on him. This is a part of my 100 followers celebration. Also, all mistakes are my own, so if you see any feel free to comment them and other comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated.

THIS IS NOT AN 18+ FIC BUT I STILL FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE WITH MINORS READING MY FICS SO PLEASE DNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR

Summary whenever you come home from a mission Steve feels the need to be touching you at all times

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/WEBSITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings fluff

Steve wasn’t really a clingy person but when you come back from a mission, you saw a different side to america’s golden boy. 

As soon as the quinjet landed, Steve was running over, waiting for you to walk out. He picked you up and walk ed into the compound with your legs wrapped around his waist and your bag over his shoulder. 

He didn’t put you down until you reached the living room on your shared floor: he put your bag on the table and sat on the couch with you on his lap. 

“I missed you so much baby,” Steve mumbled into the crook of your neck. 

“I missed you too stevie,” you replied, running your hands through his soft locks of hair. 

You stayed like that for a while until your stomach grumbled. This made Steve chuckle and pick you up again.

“What do you want to eat darlin’?” he asked.

“I’m thinking takeout from that Thai place we went to before I went on this mission.”

“That sounds like a good idea babe. I’ll call them and you can go and get some blankets to make the couch more comfy,” he said, kissing your forehead and putting you down.

You walked into your shared bedroom and grabbed every blanket in sight (there were many since you loved to hoard blankets) and arranged them on the couch. Then, you grabbed the pillows off your bed and arranged them so both you and Steve would be comfy. 

A few minutes later, Steve walked into the living room and laid down on the couch with his head on your lap.

“They said it should be here in 15-20 minutes,” Steve told you with a smile on his face since you had started to play with his hair.

“That means we can start a film. What do you want to watch baby?”

“What was the film you said you wanted to watch with me before you went on the mission?” 

“Are you talking about A Muppets Christmas Carol?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“We can watch that baby, I just gotta find it on Disney+ first.”

Not many people knew this but Steve loved musicals, he didn’t know why but theres something so magical about them that always captivated him. He doesn’t tell many people this fact about him though since he’s a bit embarrased about it (he was almost too embarrassed to tell you but a few kisses sorted that issue out.)

You pressed play on the remote and saw a smile creep onto Steve’s face. You loved to see him so happy. 

15 minutes into the film you were alerted by F.R.I.D.A.Y that someone was at the gates with a delivery for you.

“I’ll go and get it darlin’” Steve told you, smiling.

It wasn’t long before Steve was back. You grabbed you food and sat on the couch. Steve walked over to you but he didn’t sit on the couch, he sat between your legs- you had already put a few pillows and blankets there on the floor, knowing Steve would sit there. He rested his head against your left leg while he ate his food and watched the tv.

Once the both of you had finished eating, Steve wrapped his arm around your left leg and gave your thigh a kiss. This didn’t look like anything special, but to Steve it was a perfect level of intimacy for him and his slight clingyness.

This being accompanied by you constantly running your hands through his hair made him feel happy and content that you where home but also that you were ok with his need to be touching you at that moment.

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Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier, @nicoline1998enilocin

I’m a huge fan of this gif of Dacre and Joe. What a bunch of dorks. ❤️

Noodle - [E.M x Fem! Reader]

a/n: omg Anna writing an ‘x reader’ ???? shocker. anyways this is based on my frustrated dream of getting a ferret. i did some research but because it’s 1 am and i should be sleeping cause i have classes tomorrow— i wrote this instead. if any ferret owners read this, please correct me if i’m wrong on anything regarding caring for those little babies <3 i know the name is basic but honestly, i love it so much and i think Noodle deserves his own series alongside his parents.

warnings: none!! pure fluff

enjoy !!

also enjoy this, because all i can see is Eddie playing with Noodle <3

You sat on your living room couch dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a loose shirt you had stolen from your older brother, a blanket draped over your lap with your furry friend sleeping soundly underneath it. *The Princess Bride* softly played in the background as you fought the urge to join your pet in Morpheus’ arms when you heard the front door open.

“Babe, are you home?” your boyfriend, Eddie called.

“Living room!” you called back, unable to get up to greet him as you didn’t want to disturb your precious child’s sleep.

Eddie walked into the living room, finding you sat down with mentioned blanket over your legs. His face contracted in confusion as it was quite warm outside for anyone to be wrapped in a blanket.

“Hey, darling.” he greeted, settling himself behind the couch as he leaned down to give you a soft and tender kiss on your lips, his curls lightly tickling your face.

“Hi,” you responded while giggling into your shared kiss.

He pulled away, leaving one final kiss on your nose before leaping over the couch and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“May I ask why you’re covered up when you could easily make sunny-side ups on the sidewalk?” he asks, running his hands through your hair and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Well,” you started, unsure of whether to lift the veil of secrets and abruptly and ever so rudely wake up your self proclaimed fur-baby or makeup some random excuse. You opted for the latter and carefully removed the blanket from your lap, revealing the curled up figure of your ferret still sound asleep.

“What’s that?” Eddie asks, taken aback from the sudden revelation of your pet.

You had no idea why you never told him about Noodle — your sable ferret. But nevertheless you were glad that he got to meet your furry companion.

“This little guy,” you say as Noodle stirs awake and sneezes, “is my precious fur-baby, Noddle the ferret.” you proudly announce, placing one hand under the ferret’s chest, the other lifting and supporting its hind legs and bringing him towards you for security.

Eddie seemed to study the little furball for a couple seconds before looking back up at you.

“He’s cute, when did you get ‘im?”

“A couple months ago at the pet store, it was like love at first sight, except this is my beloved son.” you explain as Noodle gets out of your hold and onto his back on your lap, demanding attention which you immediately give to him, and he of course starts dooking.

Eddie smiles at the little sounds coming out of Noodle, but also because you look so content with your newfound friend.

“D-Do you think I could pet him, or hold him?” your boyfriend asks shyly

“Gotta earn his trust first. There’s a bag of treats on the dining table, go get it,” you instruct, he nods and lifts himself off the couch to acquire the bag of treats made up of cooked egg, bits of chicken, lamb, and turkey.

He comes back with the bag in hand, Noodle’s attention immediately being diverted to the familiar rustling of his favorite snacks.

“Alright, get one out of the bag,”

Eddie does as he’s told, setting the bag on the coffee table in front of him, treat on the other hand.

“Bend down to his level and speak softly, you don’t wanna scare him.”

He nods and kneels down on the floor to Noodle’s level on your lap, who looks at him curiously.

“Hey bud, y’know I think you’re pretty metal, despite your cute face and all,” he coos softly, slowly reaching his hand out to offer the treat, “Want a snack? Promise I don’t bite.”

You chuckle a little bit at his efforts to befriend your ferret, who was still in the process of deciding whether Eddie was worthy of his trust or not. Noodle first sniffs around the treat, his fingers, then his hands.

Final verdict: Noodle trusts Eddie.

The fluffy animal takes the treat from Eddie’s fingers, rewarding the human by allowing him to pet him. Eddie’s calloused fingers gently roam Noddle’s long and soft body as he finishes his treat. You watch in amusement how your boyfriend was able to bond with your let almost immediately.

Noodle takes it up a notch and also allows Eddie to lightly tickle his stomach, and he once again starts dooking, the metalhead’s giggles marching up with those of his furry friend.

“You know, I think Noodle needs a dad. He’s got me, his mom, of course. But mayyybe you’d like to join us?”

Eddie smiles as he stands up, taking his seat next to you once again while also entertaining Noodle.

“If Noodle allows me to, I’ll definitely be his dad.”

“Good, cause I’m planning on adopting another ferret.”

Eddie Munson x Reader

Mechanic

Summary- When Y/N's truck breaks down on the side of the road in Hawkins, she calls a mechanic, who happens to be Eddie Munson, and he comes to her rescue.

Trigger warnings- talk of injury, cussing

Word count-2.3

"No, please no, not now!" Y/N cries as her truck comes to a sputtered stop. She drops her head onto her hands that rest on the steering wheel, willing herself not to cry. Her day could not get any worse. A strange noise made the girl raise her head from her hands, seeing the engine emitting black smoke from under the hood. Spoke too soon, Y/N thinks to herself.

The upset young adult throws her truck door open, stepping out of the vehicle, but not before popping the hood open. She walks to the front of the truck and opens the hood to look at the damage. She props the hood on the hood strut, waiting for the smoke to clear so she can get a better look at the engine.

The girl has some knowledge of cars, only learning how to fix some problems because of her truck. The truck was older than her, meaning she got it from her parents before they moved halfway across the world, but not before mentioning all the problems the old vehicle has, just as they were walking to the plane, stunning the poor girl.

"Stupid piece of shit! Shoulda scraped you with the rest of dad's shit vehicles!" Y/N yelled at the truck, kicking the tire while she ranted. In turn, the truck let out a whine, almost as if it was replying to the flustered girl.

She went back to looking at the engine, sticking her hand down into the heart of the truck, but quickly pulled it back when the hot metal burned her hand, leaving a nasty red mark on the back of her hand. The girl kneeled down, her hand still sitting on the truck where the hood sits. Her left hand rested over her eyes as she took deep breaths, trying to figure out what to do.

Deep in thought, the girl didn't hear the sound of the hood strut snapping in two, causing the heavy metal hood to fall, landing on her burned hand. Y/N cried out as she shot up from her kneeling position, opening the hood as fast as she could to get it off her hand. Once it was finally off, she cradled her clearly broken hand to her chest, letting a single tear fall down her face.

Y/N slammed the hood closed, cussing under her breath as she got back into the cab of her truck, cranking the key with her left hand, seeing if by some miracle the vehicle would start, but to no avail. The truck sputtered slightly before going silent, refusing to turn on. Y/N sighed, looking at her surroundings, and seeing a gas station not very far up the road. She grabbed the keys out of the ignition, picked up her wallet, and exited the truck, slamming the door with force, making the metal groan when it hit the frame. Y/N didn't even care, she just started her walk to the gas station, cradling her hand to her chest.

When the angry young woman got to the station, she saw a pay phone, walking into the building to ask the clerk a question. "Welcome to John's quick stop gas station and cafe, how can I help you?" The older clerk asked from behind the counter when Y/N stepped up.

"Yeah hi. Do you have the number for a mechanic in town? My truck broke down, then decided it wanted to break my hand with the hood. Someone reliable would be preferred, please." She said, resting her hand on the counter. The sixty-something-year-old clerk gave her a worried smile, before she wrote something down on a sticky note, handing it across the counter.

"This is the best shop we have in Hawkins, but ask for Eddie Munson, he won't charge you an arm and a leg to fix your car. Payphone is right out there. Come back inside when you get off the phone and I'll get you something for your hand darlin'." The sweet clerk said to the younger woman, smiling sympathetically at her. Y/N smiled at her, walking out to the payphone to call the number on the paper.

Y/N dialed the number, putting the phone up to her ear, waiting for someone to answer.

"Greasy hands car mechanic, this is Eddie speaking." Y/N heard a deep voice say on the other end.

"Yeah, is this Eddie Munson?" She asked in her best phone voice.

"Sure is, sweetcheeks. What can I do for you today?" The guy said on the other end.

"Yeah, my truck broke down and I need a mechanic. I was told you're the best in town. Do you think you could come out and tow my truck for me?" She asked, hoping the clerk was right about him not charging tons for a fix.

"Sure can. I just need your location and name and I'll be out with a tow truck in no time." 'Eddie' said to Y/N, causing her to sigh out in relief. She proceeded to give him her location, thanking him before hanging the phone up. Y/N then walked back into the gas station, smiling at the clerk as she disappeared into the back, only to emerge a few seconds later with an ice pack for her hand.

"Go on and get yourself a drink and something to eat, it's covered darlin'." The clerk smiled at Y/N, shooing her to find something she liked in the store.

"Thank you so much. You're so sweet." Y/N said when she found what she wanted. As the older lady turned around, she fished some money out of her wallet, placed it on the counter for her, and walked out the door to sit and wait for this 'Eddie' guy to show up.

"Oh, you sneaky little thing!" The clerk said once she turned around and saw the money on the counter, but nonetheless put it in the cash register.

~*~

Y/N sat on the tailgate of her truck, eating the sandwich and drinking the soda she grabbed, watching the different cars drive by.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only half an hour, she saw the tow truck pull up, backing up to her truck to hook it up. The driver's side door opened, and out stepped a guy not much older than Y/N, walking over to her. He had long, curly hair that just hit his shoulders, framing his face perfectly. He wore a grey uniform, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing a bat tattoo on his left arm.

"You must be Y/N?" He asked, receiving a nod from said girl. "I'm Eddie. What seems to be going on with this thing?" He asked, walking to stand in front of Y/N to talk.

"I'm not sure. It just died on me. I just replaced the carburetor and fuel line less than a month ago, so it's not that. I'm not sure what it could be, to be honest." Y/N said, looking at Eddie as he nodded his head.

"Well, let's get it back to the shop and I'll have a peek at it for you." The long-haired man said, smiling lightly at Y/N. She nodded her head, letting him do his stuff.

Once the truck was hooked up and in position on the back of the tow truck, Eddie told Y/N to get into the passenger side. She did as told, closing the door and buckling her seatbelt. Eddie got into the driver's seat not long after, starting the vehicle up and putting it into gear.

Neither Eddie nor Y/N talked for a while on the way to the shop, sitting in silence, the only sound coming from the tape Eddie had put into the tapedeck on his drive over. Y/N sat, still cradling her injured hand to her chest, trying her best to stop the throbbing pain she felt in it. Eddie noticed this, and questioned her about it.

"What'd ya do to your hand?" He asked, taking a quick glance at the girl next to him.

"Oh, I'm pretty positive I broke it. I was looking in the engine earlier and stuck my hand down into it, but got burnt so I kneeled down with my hand still on the truck, and the stupid hood strut snapped in half, causing the hood to fall on my hand. I shoulda scrapped the piece of shit a long time ago." Y/N replied, snorting softly at the end.

"Well, are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital or something to get that looked at?" Eddie asked, concern lacing his deep voice.

"Nah, I'm fine. I can wait a while." Y/N simply countered, gently resting her hand down on her jean-covered thighs.

~*~

"Well, it looks like the alternator and a few spark plugs went out. I took a look at the rest of the engine and the oil filter and water pump are going out. The engine looks like it's about fifty years old, so everything is running on its last legs. I would suggest a whole new engine at this point." Eddie said to Y/N, gauging her reaction.

"What happens if I don't do the whole new engine?" She asks, standing at the counter, looking at Eddie, who stood on the other side, behind the counter. She was watching Eddie with interested eyes, her eyes scanning his face, down his neck then back up, looking at the bun he had thrown his hair into when he got back to the shop.

"Well, if you don't replace it, everything is just going to keep going out, giving you problems, making it harder for the truck to run until it just stops altogether like it did today." Eddie explained, waiting for the girl to reply.

"If I replace it, how much are we talking it'll cost?" She questioned, scared of his answer.

"We're lookin' at around three grand. But that's with new everything. The whole engine will be brand new, right from the factory." Y/N eyes widened, a heavy sigh falling from her lips. She rubbed her left hand on her forehead, thinking everything over. "But, I can make a couple calls, see where you can buy a new engine at the best price here in town. I know a few people that will give me a good price on one." Y/N nodded her head, Eddie pulling out some papers from a filing cabinet behind him, and starting to write on them

"Alright, I guess we'll have to do that, I don't have much of a choice here. When can you start on that?"

"I'll have to call a few people and as soon as I do that, and determine where the engine will come from, it will take about a week, two at the most to get it in, swap the engines out and tune the new one to your truck. I can work fairly quickly once the engine gets here. I can start today, pulling the engine out and seeing what I can save from it to maybe sell, get you a little bit of cash from what is salvageable, scrap the rest of the engine and get money off of that too. Let me finish this paperwork and I'll do that. Do you have someone that can pick you up, take you to get that hand looked at?" Eddie asked, pointing his pen at her bruising hand.

"Um, no I don't have anyone. I was just moving here when my truck broke down. I don't know anyone here. Do you have a phone book I could use to call a cab?" Y/N asked, rubbing the back of her neck.

"No, I'm not gonna make you call a cab. It's actually passed quitting time for me, this is all overtime. I can take you to the hospital and take you to your place after." Eddie explained, smiling up at Y/N, making butterflies erupt in her stomach. Said girl nodded her head, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks.

~*~

"Alright, what's your new address so I can drop you off?" Eddie asked once Y/N got back into his van from the hospital, a dark blue cast on her right hand.

"Um, you can just drop me off at a motel, I don't actually have a place to live yet." Y/N said, a blush once again creeping up her cheeks.

"What? I can't let a pretty girl like yourself stay in a random motel here! You can stay with me. My uncle works nights so he's not home at night and sleeps through the day when he gets home, so he won't mind."

"No, I can't let you do that. I'll be fine in a motel, you've already done so much for me." Y/N said, giving Eddie a very faint smile.

"Please, I insist. It would make me feel better knowing such a beautiful girl like yourself is safe at my place, not in some creepy ass motel in the middle of town. Just let me take care of you. I mean, after all, you're making my paycheck with your broken-down truck. It's the least I can do. Please?" Eddie begged, trying to convince the girl in front of him. If he was being totally honest with himself, he just didn't want to let Y/N go, he found her incredibly beautiful and sweet. He wanted to get to know her more, maybe take her on a date. But he wouldn't admit that out loud.

"Okay, I'll stay at your place. But you have to let me cook for you. It will be my way of saying thank you, even though it's not much. And I won't take no for an answer!" Y/N said, a smile pulling on her lips. Eddie nodded his head, agreeing to what she said, deciding it wouldn't be so bad to have a homecooked meal instead of the same microwave meals he has every night.

"Yeah alright. I can live with that. Now, if you're going to be living with me, I need to know a bit about you. Tell me about yourself, pretty lady." Eddie said, looking over at the girl next to him, a smile of his own on his lips. Y/N looked down, her smile widening as she shook her head, starting to tell Eddie about herself.

How's retirement, Bucky? | Bucky Barnes x f!reader.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Themes: Funny. Bucky trying to find things to do to kill time, while also being a menace to Y/N and the neighbours. Prequel to 'Ouch, My face.'

Summary: Bucky decides to retire and leave the super hero world behind, but now he doesn't know how to be normal citizen.

A/N: Just another scenario tha rudely popped into my head. . .

Bucky Barnes was retired.

It still felt strange, even after months of settling into a life of quiet mornings and unhurried afternoons. He had fought in wars, spent decades as an agent of chaos, and dedicated years to redemption and healing. Now, here he was—waking up whenever he pleased, making breakfast in a house that didn’t have bullet-proof glass windows or a panic room, and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of his day.

Today, like most others, started off simple enough: a run through the neighbourhood, a cup of coffee, and a lazy scan of the news. He’d even managed to fix the leaky faucet that had been bothering you for weeks, earning a soft kiss on the cheek as a reward.

But then… the day stretched on. There were no missions, no tactical planning, no world to save. Just the quiet ticking of the clock and the gentle hum of suburban life around him.

So, Bucky set his sights on something—or rather, someone—far more interesting: annoying you.

And thus began the saga of Bucky Barnes’ Retirement Phases.

Phase 1: The Handyman Hero Phase

Duration: One Month

Bucky started off strong, becoming the ultimate handyman of the household. Everything was fair game for improvement. Leaky faucets, creaky floorboards, wobbly shelves—if there was a screw to tighten, Bucky was on it like a well-oiled machine.

“Bucky, what are you doing?” you asked one morning, sipping your coffee as you watched him carefully measuring the distance between each picture frame on the living room wall.

“Making sure they’re exactly one inch apart,” he said without looking up, his voice deadly serious.

“Why?”

“Because last night, I noticed this one—” he pointed to a frame on the far left “—was slightly off-center, and it’s been bothering me ever since.”

You blinked. “Bucky, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, Y/N. It’s one and a quarter inch apart. Do you know what happens when things aren’t balanced?” He gave you a haunted look, as if you’d just suggested destabilizing the world order.

“Chaos,” you muttered.

“Exactly.”

Within weeks, Bucky had rebuilt half the house, repainted the walls (twice), and installed a state-of-the-art security system that even Tony Stark would envy. You came home one day to find the couch moved three inches to the left, the coffee table completely gone (“I dismantled it; we don’t need it”), and Bucky seriously contemplating whether the kitchen would look better with marble or granite countertops.

“Bucky,” you said slowly, trying to remain calm, “I’m begging you—stop fixing things.”

He blinked at you. “What do you want me to do then?”

You panicked. “Anything. Just—find a hobby!”

He gave a solemn nod, as if you’d just entrusted him with a new mission. “Okay. A hobby. Got it.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. If only you’d known what was coming next.

Phase 2: The Google Scholar Phase

Duration: Two Weeks

With his newfound free time, Bucky discovered the internet. And when Bucky Barnes discovers the internet, chaos ensues.

It started innocently enough. You’d come home to find him glued to his laptop, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“What are you doing?” you asked, setting down your bag.

“Research,” he said ominously, fingers flying over the keys.

“Research on… what?”

He glanced up, his eyes wide. “Did you know sharks have been around longer than trees?”

“Uh—”

“And that banana slugs can grow up to 9 inches long?” He leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “There’s a whole website dedicated to weird animal facts. I’ve been reading for hours.”

And so, you were subjected to two weeks of nonstop trivia.

“Hey, Y/N!” he’d shout from the kitchen. “Did you know an octopus has three hearts?”

Or: “Did you know cows have best friends?”

And: “Do you want to hear about the deepest point in the ocean?”

“Not really—”

“It’s called the Mariana Trench, and it’s seven miles down!”

You tried banning Wikipedia, but he just switched to obscure forums. You blocked YouTube, and he found a random chicken fact blog. The worst part? He’d share his newfound knowledge with anyone who’d listen.

“I’m calling Sam,” you muttered one evening after hearing Bucky recite the entire history of the humble potato to the mailman. “You need social intervention.”

Phase 3: The Home Décor Perfectionist Phase

Duration: Two Exasperating Weeks

Denied access to his newfound internet pursuits, Bucky turned to interior design. You were caught off guard one Saturday morning when he asked, “What do you think of paisley?”

“What’s a paisley?”

“Pattern. I’m thinking of reupholstering the couch.”

“Bucky, no—”

Too late. Within days, every room was a different colour. You came home to find polka-dotted curtains in the bathroom, and he’d somehow managed to install a chandelier in the laundry room.

“Bucky, why is there a 10-foot mirror in the hallway?”

“It makes the space feel bigger.”

“Bucky, this is a two-bedroom house!”

He paused, squinting at the living room wall. “I think the polka dots need to go.”

You nearly wept with relief when he announced he was moving on to the garden.

Phase 4: The Amateur Detective Phase

Duration: One Overly Suspicious Month

After redecorating the entire house, Bucky set his sights on the neighborhood.

“Y/N, did you see that guy across the street?” he whispered one morning, peering through the blinds with a pair of binoculars.

“That’s Mr. Henderson. He’s eighty-five.”

“Yeah, and he’s up to something. No one goes to the mailbox that often.”

“Maybe he likes getting his mail?”

“I’m telling you, something’s not right.” He tapped the binoculars. “I’m gonna get to the bottom of it.”

And so began Operation: Neighborhood Watch. Every delivery truck was scrutinised. Every dog walker received a full background check. The poor Girl Scouts who came to sell cookies left looking slightly shell-shocked.

The Girl Scout Incident: When Bucky Barnes Met Thin Mints

The Girl Scout incident started out innocent enough—just a kid selling cookies to the neighborhood. But when Bucky Barnes answered the door, things took a turn.

It was a sunny Saturday morning. You were in the kitchen, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when you heard the doorbell ring. Before you could even get up to check, Bucky’s voice echoed from the living room.

“I got it!” he called out, already making his way to the front door.

Curious, you peeked around the corner just in time to see him open it. Standing on the porch was a sweet-looking little girl, no more than nine or ten, decked out in her green uniform, clutching a clipboard and flashing a bright, eager smile.

“Hi, mister!” she chirped, clearly undeterred by the stern look on Bucky’s face. “Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies today?”

You watched as Bucky’s expression softened just a bit, his head tilting to the side in confusion.

“Cookies?” he repeated, as if she’d just offered him nuclear launch codes.

“Yep!” She held up a laminated chart with pictures of the various cookies, pointing to each one with a tiny, rainbow-colored pen. “We have Thin Mints, Tagalongs, Samoas—uh, I mean, Caramel deLites—”

He squinted at the chart, clearly trying to make sense of it all. “Why would you need to sell cookies?”

You nearly face-palmed. Oh no.

The girl’s enthusiasm didn’t waver. “It’s a fundraiser! To support our troop activities and trips.”

“Fundraiser?” Bucky’s voice dropped suspiciously. “Who’s your troop leader?”

The girl blinked, a little taken aback. “Uh, Mrs. Patterson?”

“Uh-huh. And how many boxes of these so-called ‘cookies’ are you supposed to sell?”

Her smile wavered just a fraction. “Um, as many as possible?”

Bucky crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “And where does all this money go?”

“Bucky—” you tried to interrupt, stepping forward, but he held up a hand without looking back, eyes still locked on the bewildered Girl Scout.

“It goes to our troop!” she answered nervously, glancing down at her clipboard as if for reassurance. “For badges and supplies and—”

“Supplies,” Bucky echoed, his tone suddenly sharp. “What kind of supplies?”

“Uh… arts and crafts…?” she stammered, clearly starting to get uncomfortable.

“Arts and crafts?” He leaned in, dropping his voice to a low, conspiratorial whisper. “Or something else?”

You saw the poor girl’s eyes widen, her grip tightening on her clipboard as if she was contemplating using it as a shield.

“Bucky, stop,” you hissed, stepping forward to intervene. But he was on a roll now.

“Who gets the money, huh?” He narrowed his eyes, peering down at her like she was an enemy combatant. “Do you get it?

“Or does it go to some mysterious ‘troop leader’ who’s hiding behind a desk somewhere, raking in profits from innocent cookie sales?”

“M-Mister, it’s just cookies,” she squeaked, glancing nervously at the boxes stacked beside her. “We just wanna go camping this summer.”

“Camping?” he repeated slowly, as if tasting the word. “And what kind of ‘camping’ are we talking about here? Deep-woods recon training? SERE training?”

The girl blinked up at him, clearly having no idea what he was talking about.

“Bucky, she’s nine!” you practically shouted, rushing over to save the poor child from what was rapidly escalating into a full-blown interrogation.

“But Y/N, this could be—”

“It’s not a conspiracy, Bucky!” you snapped, turning to the girl and giving her what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “Sweetie, how much for a box of Thin Mints?”

“Uh… f-five dollars?” she stammered, still eyeing Bucky like he might suddenly sprout fangs.

You reached for your wallet, pulling out a ten-dollar bill and handing it to her. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you, ma’am!” she squeaked, stuffing the money into her pouch with trembling hands.

You shot Bucky a glare. “Apologize.”

He crossed his arms, looking mulish. “But—”

“Bucky.”

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Uh… sorry… for, um… asking about your troop leader and, uh… the money laundering?”

The girl blinked up at him, clearly not following.

“Bucky!” you hissed, elbowing him sharply.

“I mean, sorry for… for… being weird,” he mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

The girl gave a hesitant nod, glancing back at her stack of cookies. “Um… would you like another box, mister?”

Bucky frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe. Which one’s the best?”

“Bucky—” you started, but he was already leaning down, listening intently as the girl launched into a detailed explanation of the flavour profiles of Samoas versus Tagalongs.

Twenty minutes later, Bucky was the proud owner of a dozen boxes of Girl Scout cookies, which the girl somehow managed to upsell him into buying. The look of relief on her face as she walked away was palpable.

You turned to Bucky, hands on your hips. “Really, Buck?”

“What?” he said defensively, clutching his armful of cookies. “I needed to make sure it was legit!”

“Uh-huh. And that’s why we now have enough cookies to feed an army?”

He shrugged, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I guess I got carried away.”

“Just… try not to scare any more children, okay?”

“Hey, I was just being thorough,” he muttered, glancing down at the boxes. “Besides… these ‘Samoas’ are actually pretty good.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. Because only Bucky Barnes could turn a simple cookie sale into a full-scale interrogation—and then end up buying out the entire stock.

“Whatever you say, Bucky. Whatever you say.”

He gave you a sheepish grin, holding up a box of Thin Mints. “Want one?”

“Sure,” you sighed, reaching out to grab a cookie. Because, at the end of the day, this was Bucky Barnes: ex-assassin, super-soldier, and now… terrifyingly dedicated Girl Scout cookie connoisseur.

The Girl Scout incident, unfortunately, didn’t mark the end of Bucky’s neighbourhood watch endeavours.

“Hey, Y/N, that’s the third day in a row Mrs. Higginson has gone jogging past our house,” Bucky muttered a few days later, scribbling furiously in his notebook.

You glanced over from your spot on the couch, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-huh,” you replied absently, already wondering if now would be a good time to text Steve for a little ‘rescue mission.’ “Maybe she likes jogging?”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not natural. It’s a cover for something. Probably espionage.”

“Bucky, she’s seventy.”

“Exactly. No one that age moves like that. She’s gotta be a retired agent.”

“Or she’s trying to stay in shape?”

“Or she’s spying on us.” He narrowed his eyes, peering through the blinds. “Maybe she’s HYDRA.”

“Bucky, she brought us homemade banana bread last week.”

“Which tasted suspiciously good,” he muttered darkly, tapping his pen against his chin. “I’m keeping an eye on her.”

It didn’t stop there. He began obsessively tracking patterns—when neighbors took out their trash, when they left for work, who picked up their mail first thing in the morning. His conspiracy board rivaled the one you’d seen at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, complete with photos, string, and a suspiciously large map of the neighborhood.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you.”

You blinked, looking up from your book. “What’s up, Buck?”

He leaned in, his voice low and serious. “Did you know Mrs. Patterson’s dog peed on our lawn three times this week?”

“I—what?”

“And Mr. Thompson left his house twice yesterday. Twice.”

“…is that a crime?”

“Yes. Who leaves the house twice in one day? He’s clearly up to something.”

“Like… groceries?”

Bucky frowned. “No. Something bigger. I saw him walking to his car, get this—without any bags.”

“Maybe he forgot something?”

He shook his head, eyes narrowed. “It’s a diversion tactic. I’m keeping a close watch on him.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re stalking the neighbours.”

“Of course not!” He paused. “I’m… observing. For science.”

“For science?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, Buck. I’m putting my foot down,” you finally managed. “You need to stop this. The neighbours think we’re crazy. You’re scaring the kids and… the mailman won’t come to the door anymore.”

Bucky looked genuinely confused. “Why not?”

“Because you interrogated him about his route last week!”

“He was being shady!”

“He’s a mailman!”

There was a long pause as you stared each other down, Bucky looking defiant and you looking exhausted. Finally, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

“Buck… I know retirement is hard. But you need a new outlet. Maybe something a little less—”

“Paranoid?” he offered, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. And a little less terrifying for the neighbours.”

He sighed deeply, like you’d just asked him to hang up his shield all over again. “I was just… trying to be useful.”

Your heart softened immediately. Because that was what it all boiled down to, wasn’t it? The man who’d spent his life fighting wars and doing battle against his own mind was now left trying to figure out how to fit into a world that no longer needed him to save it.

You walked over, placing your hands on his shoulders and giving him a soft smile. “You’re always useful, Buck. Even if you’re not interrogating the mailman about federal postal regulations or… spying on seventy-year-old retirees.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “I might’ve gone a little overboard, huh?”

“A little,” you agreed with a grin. “Maybe you should find something else to watch over.”

“Like what?” he asked, looking genuinely curious.

You bit your lip, thinking. “I don’t know… Maybe get a pet? You could… I don’t know, babysit a cat or something.”

Bucky blinked at you. Then his eyes lit up like you’d just handed him the Holy Grail of retirement activities.

“A cat,” he murmured slowly, as if testing the word. “A cat.”

“Yes, a cat,” you repeated cautiously, wondering if you’d just unleashed some new kind of havoc on the house. “You could train it to… I don’t know, not scratch the furniture or something.”

“Or… I could train it to keep an eye on the pigeons,” he muttered to himself, looking thoughtful.

“Wait, what?”

But Bucky had already gone inside, the gears in his mind clearly turning. You shook your head, deciding to let him have this one. After all, how much trouble could he really get into with a cat?

Phase 5: The Pet Phase (aka Operation: Find a Feline Friend)

Duration: Ongoing, with Fur Everywhere

You didn’t think he’d take it seriously. Until you came home the next day to find Bucky sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, a small, white ball of fluff curled up in his lap.

“This is Alpine,” he announced proudly.

You stared at the kitten, then at Bucky, then back at the kitten. “Bucky, what… why…?”

“You said get a pet,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “So I did.”

And that’s how Alpine, the grumpy old woman in a cat’s body, became part of your household. Bucky spent weeks trying to train him (“Sit, Alpine! Sit! … Okay, fine, just glare at me, that works too.”), set up elaborate obstacle courses (“Alpine, jump! No, don’t walk away—okay, you know what, just do your thing”), and spoiled her rotten with toys and treats.

With each phase, Bucky’s retirement became a new adventure. And while it drove you absolutely crazy at times, you couldn’t help but smile when you saw Bucky lying on the couch, Alpine curled up on his chest, both looking completely content.

“Retirement isn’t so bad, huh?” you teased one evening, curling up beside him.

He hummed thoughtfully, scratching behind Alpine’s ears. “I don’t know… I think I could use a new project.”

You groaned, but your groan turned into a laugh when he grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh no,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “No more projects, Barnes. You’ve nearly redecorated us out of house and home, scared the mailman half to death, and—”

“Don’t forget the gourmet cookies,” he interjected with a cheeky smile.

You shot him a playful glare. “I’m trying to forget the cookies, thank you.”

“Aw, come on. I think I finally got the recipe down. I’ll just try one more—”

“No!” you practically shouted, your voice echoing through the living room. Alpine, unbothered, merely lifted her head, gave you both a disinterested look, and went back to napping.

Bucky chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. No more cookies. No more redecorating. No more… scaring the Girl Scouts.”

“Or spying on the neighbors.”

“Or spying on the neighbors,” he agreed, still looking a little too amused for your liking.

You sighed, leaning back into the couch and resting your head on his shoulder. “You know, most people take up hobbies like gardening or painting in retirement.”

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, but those aren’t as exciting.”

“They’re not supposed to be exciting. They’re supposed to be calm. That’s the whole point of retirement, Buck.”

He glanced down at you, his gaze softening. “You really think I’m the ‘calm’ type, doll?”

You snorted. “No, not really. But it would be nice if, just once, I didn’t come home to find you plotting to build a moat around the house.”

“Moats are an excellent defense mechanism,” he said matter-of-factly. “But okay, I get it. I’ll tone it down.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “You promise?”

“Scout’s honor,” he said, holding up his right hand. The glint in his eye, however, told you he was already planning something new.

“Bucky…”

“What?” he asked, all innocence. “You don’t trust me?”

“Not for a second.”

He chuckled, then pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Alright, no more projects. I’ll just focus on Alpine. She’s a full-time job anyway.”

You glanced at the cat, who was now sprawled out like she owned the place. “You’ve turned her into a diva, you know.”

“He’s just refined,” Bucky said defensively. “He’s got standards.”

“Uh-huh. Like the way he refuses to eat unless you hand-feed her?”

“Refined,” Bucky insisted.

“And how she sleeps on your side of the bed and shoves you off with her tiny, evil paws?”

“Selective.”

“And how she sits on the counter staring at you like she’s plotting your demise?”

“Observant.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “You’ve created a monster, Bucky.”

“Eh,” he said with a shrug, smirking down at you. “I’ve handled worse monsters. She’s a good one. Besides,” he added, scratching Alpine’s head fondly, “she’s family.”

Your heart softened at his words, and you smiled up at him. “Yeah, I guess she is.”

There was a comfortable silence as you both sat there, content in the peaceful moment.

Then Bucky cleared his throat, and you glanced up to see him shifting slightly, like he was working up the nerve to say something.

“So… I was thinking…” he began slowly.

“Bucky.”

“No, no, hear me out,” he said quickly, raising his hands as if to ward off your incoming refusal. “What if we… I dunno… made a baby?”

You blinked, certain you hadn’t heard him correctly. “What?”

“A baby,” he repeated, his voice steady, though there was a telltale blush creeping up his neck. “You know, a little human—our human. Someone we can train to take over the world… or at least keep me entertained.”

Your jaw dropped open. “You want to have a baby—because you’re bored?”

Bucky gave you a sheepish grin. “I mean, I was thinking it could be a good project… long-term investment… future troublemaker…”

“Bucky,” you interrupted, placing your hands on his shoulders and staring at him, bewildered. “Are you seriously suggesting having a child like it’s another DIY project?”

He shrugged, looking as nonchalant as ever, but his eyes were soft and serious. “Maybe. But I was also thinking it’d be nice to have something, or someone, that’s just… ours. A mix of you and me. Something that isn’t tied to the past, or fighting, or… all the other stuff.”

You stared at him, trying to wrap your mind around the sudden turn the conversation had taken. “You really want a baby, Bucky?”

He nodded slowly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. I do. Don’t get me wrong, Alpine’s great and all, but…” He sighed, his smile turning tender. “I just think it’d be amazing to have something more. I’ve spent so much of my life taking orders or fighting ghosts. But starting a family with you? That’s something I get to build. Something that’s ours.”

You bit your lip, heart swelling at his words. Despite the completely unromantic way he’d suggested it, there was sincerity in his gaze, a yearning for something deeper than fixing leaky faucets or buying out the Girl Scouts’ entire cookie stock.

“And you think you’d be a good dad?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Please,” he scoffed, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’d be the best damn dad. I’d teach our kid how to throw a proper punch by age five, dismantle a toaster by six—”

You laughed, shaking your head. “So, what you’re saying is… you want to raise a tiny super-soldier?”

His grin widened. “Hell yeah.”

“Bucky, we are not turning our child into a mini-Winter Soldier.”

He pouted dramatically. “Not even a little bit?”

“Not even a little bit,” you affirmed with a chuckle. You leaned in, resting your forehead against his. “But… maybe we could talk about it. You know, actually talk. Not just… plan a tactical baby mission.”

Bucky’s eyes softened as he brushed his thumb along your cheek. “Yeah. We can talk about it.” He paused, then added with a mischievous glint, “After we practice a little more.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Oh my God, Bucky.”

“What?” he asked innocently, his grin widening. “Practice makes perfect, right?”

You shook your head, letting out a breathy laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you love me for it,” he murmured, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

“Yeah,” you whispered when he pulled away, your heart fluttering in your chest. “I do.”

You glanced down at Alpine, who was still sprawled across Bucky’s lap, looking utterly uninterested in the conversation. A baby. You hadn’t really thought about it seriously before, but now that Bucky had put the idea in your head… you couldn’t help but wonder.

There was a brief pause as Bucky gazed at you, his expression growing thoughtful. “You know,” he began quietly, “after that whole Girl Scout cookie fiasco… I kinda started thinking… I’d really like to have a daughter.”

You blinked at him, surprised. “A daughter?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice softening. “That kid was just so… brave, you know? Standing there, staring me down even though I was being a total idiot. It reminded me of you—fierce and unafraid. I couldn’t stop thinking… what if we had a daughter like that? Strong, smart, and completely capable of putting me in my place when I get out of line.”

You felt your heart clench at his words, his quiet admission making your chest ache. “You want a little girl because she’d keep you in check?”

“That,” he said, smiling softly, “and I think I’d like the challenge. I’ve spent so much of my life dealing with people who only saw me as a weapon. I just… want to prove that I can be something else. That I can be gentle… and kind… and love someone unconditionally. The way I love you.”

You reached up, cupping his face gently. “Bucky, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

“I know,” he murmured, his gaze warm and intense. “But I still want to try. And I want to be the kind of dad who isn’t just a protector, but a friend. Someone who’d sit through endless tea parties and help her build pillow forts… and buy all the Girl Scout cookies she wants without scaring anyone.”

You laughed softly, tears stinging your eyes at the picture he painted. “You’d be a great dad, Bucky.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice low and hopeful.

“Yeah,” you whispered, smiling up at him.

There was another beat of silence before Bucky leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “So… when do we start?”

You felt your cheeks heat, a mix of laughter and surprise bubbling up in your chest. “Bucky!”

“What?” he asked, his smile as innocent as ever. “I’m just asking. I mean, you know I’m a man of action. Gotta have a timeline.”

“Oh my God,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands as Bucky laughed softly, his arms wrapping around you.

“Okay, okay,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “No rush. We’ll take it one day at a time, sweetheart. But just know… I’m ready whenever you are.”

And somehow, you knew this next phase—whatever it looked like—was going to be the best one yet.

× × × ×

Ten months later

The soft glow of the nightlight bathed the nursery in a warm, golden hue, casting gentle shadows on the pale blue walls. The room was still, save for the quiet creak of the rocking chair as Bucky swayed back and forth, holding the tiniest bundle of joy in his strong, yet tender arms.

His daughter, barely a week old, was nestled against his chest, her small, delicate breaths in sync with the steady rhythm of his own. Her tiny fist curled around the fabric of his shirt, as if she knew just how safe and loved she was in her daddy's arms.

Bucky hummed quietly, the familiar melody of an old lullaby drifting into the air. It was a song his mother used to sing to him when he was no older than his sweet little girl was now. The words came softly, almost whispered, as if they were sacred—meant only for his daughter.

“Darling, you're my bloodYou have my heartbeatYou have my heartbeat, beating loud,”

His voice was gruff, yet softened by emotion as he sang, the gentle rocking lulling his daughter further into her peaceful slumber. His fingers brushed through her soft, downy hair as he looked down at her with nothing short of awe. How had he, of all people, gotten so lucky?

He had been through so much darkness in his life—seen and done things he would never be able to forget—but here, in this quiet moment, everything seemed to fade away. The world outside could wait. Right now, his whole universe was cradled in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky Barnes felt at peace.

Unbeknownst to him, you stood at the door, your heart swelling at the sight before you. You had come to check on them both, worried that Bucky might need help with the baby. But when you saw him there, rocking your little girl and singing so sweetly, you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you leaned against the doorframe, content to watch the love of your life in this vulnerable, beautiful moment. 

Bucky was a natural, even if he didn’t believe it. You had seen the worry in his eyes when you first brought your daughter home—the fear that he wouldn’t be good enough, that he wouldn’t know what to do. But here he was, proving himself wrong in the most heart-melting way possible.

The lullaby continued, each note filled with so much love it made your eyes mist over.

"You are my lighthouseA peak of light from the dark cloudsI've lived under my whole life. . .And there's nothing I won't do for you."

Bucky’s voice cracked just a little on the last line, overcome with emotion as he gazed down at his daughter and carefully wiped his tears away. 

She had his eyes—bright and full of wonder, even when they were closed in slumber. He couldn’t help but trace the delicate features of her face with his gaze, committing every tiny detail to memory.

Finally, you couldn’t resist any longer. You stepped into the room quietly, not wanting to startle him. Bucky looked up, surprise flickering across his face when he saw you standing there. His expression softened when he realised you had been watching him.

“How long have you been standing there?” he asked, his voice low so as not to wake the baby.

“Long enough,” you replied, your smile widening as you walked over to him.

Bucky blushed, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I’m not exactly a professional.”

“I beg to differ, I think you’re the best dad in the world.” you whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his temple. 

Bucky’s heart swelled at your words. He never imagined he would be here—sitting in a nursery, holding his newborn daughter while the love of his life stood beside him, calling him the best dad in the world. It still felt like a dream.

“She’s so small,” he murmured, looking back down at the baby. “So fragile. I didn’t think…I didn’t think I could love someone I barely knew this much.”

Your hand gently rested on his shoulder as you gazed down at your daughter. “You’ve got a big heart, James. I always knew you’d be amazing as a father.”

He glanced up at you, eyes soft and full of affection. “You’re the amazing one.”

You reached out to gently stroke the baby’s cheek, and Bucky leaned into your touch, feeling more complete than he ever thought possible.

“I never thought I’d have this,” he admitted after a long silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “A family. A reason to feel…whole again.”

You knelt down beside him, resting your head against his shoulder. “You deserve it, Bucky. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

Bucky kissed the top of youe head, holding you close as he continued to rock your daughter. The world outside could be chaotic and unforgiving, but in this room, in this moment, everything was perfect.

× × × ×

Baby at six months

The house was peaceful, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow through the windows. You were out running errands, leaving Bucky home with their now six-month-old daughter, who was currently kicking her chubby little legs and babbling on her playmat. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she reached for her favorite stuffed bear, the one Bucky had given her the day she was born.

Bucky sat beside her, legs crossed, watching her every move like she was the most fascinating thing on the planet. He leaned down, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. 

“You know, blossom,” he began, glancing over his shoulder dramatically as if checking to make sure Y/N wasn’t around. “Your mom thinks she’s the boss.”

Their daughter let out a high-pitched squeal, and Bucky grinned. 

“Right? Can you believe it?” he continued, keeping his voice low as if sharing the biggest secret in the world. “She thinks she’s in charge around here. But between you and me, we know the truth.”

His little girl giggled again, her tiny hands grasping at the air as if she was agreeing with him.

“See, you and I?” Bucky said, tapping his finger gently on her nose, “We’re a team. We know how to get things done. I mean, just look at us—surviving nap time, figuring out how to stack those weird little ring toys, and we don’t even need to look at the instructions. Meanwhile, your mom still thinks I can’t fold laundry properly.”

He paused for dramatic effect, raising his brows. “Can you believe that? Laundry. I fought in World War II, and she’s worried I’ll mess up the towels.”

His daughter let out a delighted shriek, her little legs kicking excitedly. Bucky reached over and tickled her belly gently, making her burst into even more giggles.

“Oh, yeah, I know you think it’s funny,” Bucky chuckled. “But trust me, your mom’s got some pretty high laundry standards. I tried to fold one towel, just one, and she came over with this look like I’d committed a crime. 'Bucky, that’s not how you fold them!' she said. And I’m standing there like, ‘It’s a towel, not a top-secret mission.’”

He leaned in closer, as if telling her something top-secret. “She doesn’t know this, but I might’ve folded them wrong on purpose so I wouldn’t have to do it anymore.”

His daughter cooed, her tiny hand reaching out to grab his finger, which she promptly brought to her mouth to chew on. Bucky let her, his heart melting at the sight. She was his little sidekick, always hanging on his every word, even if she didn’t fully understand yet.

“And don’t even get me started on the bedtime routine,” Bucky continued, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “Your mom’s got this whole plan—bath, story, lights out. Meanwhile, you and me? We’ve got a better plan. We chill, we rock, maybe sing a little. You get all cozy, and bam—out like a light.”

“Bababababa,” His daughter babbled something back at him, her little voice full of enthusiasm, and Bucky nodded seriously. 

“Exactly. That’s what I’ve been saying. We’ve got this figured out.”

He scooped her up from the mat and held her close, her head resting comfortably against his chest as he walked them over to the couch. He sat down, cradling her in his arms, and continued his lighthearted rant.

“And the thing is, she’s always right, which drives me crazy. Like, the other day, she told me you were gonna try to crawl soon. I thought, ‘Nah, she’s too young.’ But then what happens? Two days later, you’re scooting around like you’ve got places to be. I swear, your mom’s a psychic or something.”

Bucky gazed down at his daughter, who was now looking up at him with those wide blue eyes that never failed to melt his heart. She let out a happy gurgle, and Bucky chuckled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“You know I’m just kidding, right? Your mom’s the best. She takes care of both of us.” He sighed, feeling a rush of affection as he thought about Y/N. “Don’t tell her, but I’m pretty lucky to have her. She keeps me in line.”

Just then, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, and Bucky’s head shot up in mock panic.

“Uh-oh,” he whispered to his daughter, his eyes wide with exaggerated worry. “The boss is back. Don’t say anything.”

You appeared in the doorway, raising an eyebrow as you saw Bucky and the baby cozied up on the couch. “What are you two up to?” you asked, a knowing smile on your lips.

Bucky gave you his most innocent look, bouncing your daughter gently in his arms. “Oh, nothing. Just hanging out with my best girl here. Right, darling?”

The baby let out a little squeal, clearly delighted by the attention.

“Mmhmm,” You said, stepping closer and giving Bucky a playful look. “You haven’t been filling her head with nonsense, have you?”

“Me? Never,” Bucky replied, trying to keep a straight face. “We were just talking about how great you are. Isn’t that right, kiddo?”

Bianca, oblivious to the conversation, giggled and reached for you, and took her from Bucky’s arms and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Well, if she grows up thinking she’s in charge, I’ll know who to blame,” You teased, casting a glance at Bucky.

He grinned, leaning back on the couch. “Hey, she’s gotta learn from the best.”

You smiled, shaking your head in mock defeat. “You’re lucky she likes you so much.”

Bucky stood and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both looked down at your little girl, now happily nestled between you. “I’m lucky to have both of you,” he murmured softly, kissing the side of your head.

And in that moment, with his two favorite girls in his arms, Bucky couldn’t imagine a better kind of luck.

Stop, that was so cute!

Can I request Joseph Quinn being obsessed with the way you smell. Like your hair , body , perfume , after shower , before going out etc. And sometimes hugs you to smell you in public but in private he moves your hair out of your neck so he can smell you there and place a kiss there✨✨

stop i love this ima make it so fluffy 🥹

p.s , instead i’m going to make a few different blurbs just if him showing how much he loves you 🙏🏼 (if that makes sense)

joe and his ways of love ⇿ j.q <3

summary; your boyfriend, joseph, is obsessed with the way you smell, or maybe he’s just obsessed with you in general.

warnings; prepare for the fluff

pair; joseph quinn x fem!reader (she/her)

genre; fluff

PLEASE DO NOT TAKE OR COPY MY WRITING without permission - which you don’t!

you take out your keys to unlock your front door then open it, immediately seeing joseph run up to you to take all of the grocery bags out of your hands.

“come, come inside.” joe says eagerly.

he sets all the bags down by the counter to quickly went to hug you before you walked away. “i missed you, lovie.” he smiles, littering a few kisses on your neck.

“i miss you too, baby,” you give him a soft smile. “i’ve been gone not even an hour!” you giggle.

“i know but,” he nuzzles his face into your neck. “i don’t care. i missed you.” you hear his muffles.

you move his head into your view. “kiss.” you demand. he gives you a kiss without wasting any time.

“i want to cuddle.” joseph announces like a baby. “okay, love. only a little while.”

you walked into your bedroom with a towel around your body, looking into a mirror to comb your hair.

you look and see joseph pouting behind you in the mirror. “what’s with the face?” you continue to comb your hair.

“you didn’t cuddle with me.” he looked away. “you could’ve joined me.” you mentioned with a small laugh.

“no. i didn’t want to get wet.” he rolled his eyes. “okay, then.. i guess you’re going to have to deal with it.” he got up and walked over to you. he stood beside you watching you brush your hair.

“ugh.” he crossed his arms. “what now?” you turn your head to look at him.

“nothing,”

“stop being a pouty baby.” you jokingly but gently push him.

joseph’s jaw dropped in shock, with a smile. “just c’mere.” he crouched and ran for your legs, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“ay! joseph! put me down!” you kicked your legs and started throwing your arms around while laughing. he sat you on the bed and crawled on top of you, kissing your chest up to your jawline.

“all i wanna do is lay with you, okay?” he rested his face on your chest and closed his eyes. “fine.” you smiled, twirling his curls in between your fingers.

joseph and you go out to the cafe just around your flat, seriously hoping no paparazzi would show up.

“lovely, innit?” joseph looked around inside the small building.

“definitely.” you smile, looking down to grab ahold of his hand to place your fingers in between his.

he walks over to the counter and orders a piece of your favorite cake, along with his favorite type of tart.

you continue to look around, noticing a group of people outside looking through the window.

you sigh and nudge joseph’s shoulder as a gesture to look through the window.

“ay,” he turns back to the person taking the order. “actually make that to-go, please.”

you both grab your items off the counter and he drags you outside, not thinking much of it but just to get away from the people. he walked past all the people who were attempting to take pictures and ask questions but he ignored them all.

the both of you turn to this alley way, hoping no one would end up seeing joseph there.

you leaned against the wall and ate a few bites of your cake. joseph looked over to you and admired your face.

he had a light shade of pink cover his cheeks. “is there something on my face?” you ask, using your free hand to try to wipe away any crumbs.

“no. no, nothing is on your face.” he smiled and slightly bent down to attach his lips to yours. you immediately kiss him back, cupping his face with your hand.

“what’s wrong, love?” you pulled away and placed your forehead against his. “hm? nothing is wrong, i just love you.”

“i love you too.” you smile and give him a peck.

“can we go home, so we can cuddle?” he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tightly. “yes, yes please.”

i wasn’t sure how i should write this but i hope it’s okay :,) currently my requests are closed because i am writing two others but they will be open again soon! ilysm 🫶🏼

reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated <3.

Other bloggers: man I need to clean out my askbox

Me:

Not So Bad

Summary: It's Bucky's birthday, but doesn't want to make a big deal out of it.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Language. None, really just fluff. No mentions of Y/N.

Word Count: 1K

A/N: He's my second story for today. Happy birthday, Bucky! Thanks to @ordelixx for the idea and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for read proofing it.

Masterlist

Ever since he’s rejoined society and gained the closest thing he can have to a normal life, being a supersoldier and all, there’s one thing that Bucky can’t bring himself to do: celebrate his birthday.

The more memories he regains, the more he remembers a time where he used to celebrate his birthday with his family and his friends.

Sure, they didn’t have much, but he had his mom and his sister and Steve. It was a simpler yet happier time, and he now all he feels is gloomy.

So every year he treats it like any other day. He trains and goes on missions if he has to, and if he’s in the compound he chills with a book or maybe takes a motorcycle ride, never once even making it known to the rest of the team that it’s his birthday.

“Seriously, Buck? That’s how you’re gonna spend your whole day?” Steve asks Bucky as they walk down the hallway towards their rooms.

“Yes, seriously.” Bucky answers with a roll of his eyes. Every year Steve tries to get Bucky to do something more to celebrate his birthday, but Bucky never budges. “You know damn well what I think about my birthday.”

Steve groans and stops walking, causing Bucky to stop too, and tries one last time before leaving Bucky to his sulking. “I know, but come on! Let’s at least do something together, let’s celebrate your birthday like we used to, go to Coney Island or something. Don’t spend the day alone!”

“We spend everyday together, Rogers. Sometimes it’s nice to get a break.” Bucky jokes with a smirk before he starts walking again and leaves Steve to chuckle and roll his eyes before he walks to his own room.

What neither of the supersoldiers realized is that they had stopped right in front of your room to talk, just as you were about to walk out. You stopped in your tracks and listened to their conversation.

It’s Bucky’s birthday? How did you not know that? Sure it’s not like you’re the best of friends, but you’re still pretty close. You should’ve known that.

So you decide to do something nice for him today while still respecting his wishes of having a low-key day. You take your purse and jacket and head to the garage, getting into your car and driving towards the city.

Truth is, you’ve always had a crush on the Sergeant. It was hard not to when he looked the way he did, and he was as sweet as Bucky was. 

As intimidating as he might look, you knew how shy he could be. He got flustered easily when he got a compliment, and you found him so adorable when he started blushing and stuttering.

You go to the bookstore you know Bucky loves to browse when he is in the city, it’s a small store that’s filled with second hand books. Bucky always said that he loved to give books a second chance, just like he got one after Hydra. 

You look through the books until you find the perfect one: Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck. The team saw the movie together when it was Steve’s turn to pick, and as you sat next to Bucky you heard him quietly tell Steve about the details they remembered from reading the book in the 30s. 

You go to Bucky’s favorite bakery next and buy two dozen of his favorite cupcakes, and when you see that they sell different colors you have to buy a gold and black one.

You drive back to the compound and, after dropping the rest of the cupcakes in the kitchen for the team, you take one, putting the candle on top of it and taking a lighter. You go to Bucky’s room, cupcake in one hand and gift bag in the other, and knock on his door. 

“Come in.” Bucky says from inside, thinking it’s Steve coming to bother him again.

You open the door slightly and look inside, seeing him sitting on his bed with his back against the headboard and a book in his hands.

“Am I bothering you?” You ask hesitantly.

“N-no, you’re not. Come in.” Bucky says quickly, closing his book and sitting up more.

You open the door completely and enter his room, taking a couple of steps towards him before stopping. “I… I got you something.”

Bucky’s eyes widen a little as he sees the cupcake and the gift bag you’re holding out to him.

“Did Steve tell you?” His eyes narrow a little, and you squirm a little under his gaze and shake your head.

“I overheard you talking about it…” You say quietly, a little embarrassed. “I get that you don’t want a party or anything, but I thought… I don’t know, I just wanted to do something nice for you on your birthday…”

You start to second guess yourself as he just looks at you and, just as you’re about to backtrack on your stupid idea and leave him alone, he smiles brightly at you, sitting on the edge of his bed and patting the spot next to him.

You sit next to him and you put the bag on his bed so you can light the candle and hold the cupcake out to him with a smile. “Make a wish.”

Bucky thinks about it for a second. He knows what he wants to wish for, the thing is he already got his wish: you in his room, sitting with him on his bed. But he makes his wish anyway before blowing out the candle. He wished for you to be his.

You smile at each other for a moment before you snap yourself out of it, shaking your head a little and picking up his present and giving it to him.

He puts the cupcake on his nightstand as he takes the bag and opens it and you can see his face light up when he sees it as he runs his fingers down the cover before looking at you with a smile. “Thank you, doll.”

You smile back at him and lean in to kiss his cheek. “Happy birthday, Bucky.” You say before getting up and leaving, letting him have his peaceful day of relaxation. 

Bucky watches you go with a slight blush, his hand over his cheek where you kissed it and a goofy smile on his face.

Perhaps celebrating his birthday is not such a bad thing after all.

omg. y/n doing an interview and they ask who their celebrity crush is and y/n’s like.

‘Joseph Quinn.’

Leaning against chair, ‘I mean have you seen him in Make Up? Or Les Miserables? everytime I see a picture of him I get butterflies in my stomach.’

‘Really?’

‘What if we said Joseph Quinn was here today?’

*Y/n.exe has stopped working*

‘What?’

‘Everybody Joseph Quinn’

*joseph Quinn walks out*

*y/n trying to keep themselves from fainting*