Origami Around
Cosmic Funnies
Janaina Medeiros
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
No title available
Keni
Mike Driver
@theartofmadeline
NASA
Monterey Bay Aquarium
we're not kids anymore.
Show & Tell
i don't do bad sauce passes
#extradirty
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
ojovivo
No title available
Claire Keane
Game of Thrones Daily
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
seen from Sweden
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from T1
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from New Zealand
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Taiwan
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
@buckyreaderrecs
Serious Moonlight Tour 1771 words, meet cute You’re going to be a music journalist, even if there’s no music scene in Hawkins.
Vintage Reeboks The gate at the bottom of Lover’s Lake was meant to spit the quartet out in the Upside Down. Steve, Nancy, and Robin were meant to be there. He wasn’t meant to be alone. But when Eddie comes to on the shoreline, you’re there. It’s not the Upside Down. It’s not Lover’s Lake. It’s not 1986.
Chapter 1: Lover's Lake, 1584 words
Same energy
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
I deadass thought I couldn't change my AO3 username hahaha. Anyway. I've updated it to match mine here. Consistency makes me happy.
You'll find Eddie Munson, Bucky Barnes, and Van McCann reader insert fanfics there!
Welcome to Hellfire Club...
Hello!
For those that have been here before, either through my Van McCann fanfics (@storiesaboutvan) or my Bucky Barnes blog (@buckyreaderrecs), welcome back. I've missed you.
To new friends that haven't found me yet, I'm excited for you to read my work and for me to get to know you.
My name is Rhi. I live in so-called-Australia. I'm a real life adult that used to have a 'proper career' and all that jazz. Started making it. Had a mental breakdown. Bon appetite. Now, I live with my best friend, her husband, and their baby. We have three chickens, two dogs, and two cats. I am currently not working so I have some spare time up my sleeve...
I liked Stranger Things a 'normal amount' until Season 4. He got us good, the motherfucker. Eddie Munson will be the death of us all and that's fine by me. Consider me inspired, hyperfixated, and here most of the time.
You can also find me on Instagram (imdeadpeaceful), where I am putting together an Eddie zine, because zines are my thing. If you're an artist, you can totally contribute. DM me.
I love to talk to people, read your fanfiction, and immerse myself in some maladaptive daydreaming.
Buckle up. xo Rhi
I think a lot about Eddie Munson. Go follow the new blog. I have so many ideas lmao.
Hi there! I had a question and I hope you can help as a experienced Bucky fanfic reader. I was looking for 2 fanfics I can't find anywhere. One is a serie where Y/n is treated like a 'dog' by HYDRA and when she is rescued she clings to Bucky. And number two is also a serie where the reader was in a lab accident where she happend to shrink in size to a mini person and lives in the compound now. I hope you know wich I mean and where I can find them. Have a lovely day and thank you in advance ♡
Hello. I would hit up @searchingforbucky - they do god's work and may be able to help you out.
Hey have you read about a Bucky and mob reader fic? I saw the masterlist but it went poof please help me
Hey. There are so many! Hit up @searchingforbucky - they might be able to help you refine your search.
on hiatus because everything is fucked and nothing matters lmao
Drabble 3/? Cold bedrooms in the early morning darkness, and Bucky’s dog tags. 830 words My masterlist
The room was still dark despite the blinds not being all the way closed, and the sound of rain bucketing down on the roof drowned out Bucky’s usual just-audible snores. You tried to remember if you had taken your pyjama pants off in the lounge room when Bucky started to kiss your neck, or if it was later, in the bedroom.
If it was the latter, you might have been able to reach out of bed and grab them without getting any colder. You looked around whilst trying not to move too much but were able to make out shapes in the stormy morning light.
The bedside table housed three mugs of what was probably half-finished tea. Your phone was there, Bucky’s resting on top. They were both dead, and since you had been back in each other’s arms, you hadn’t bothered putting them on charge. Bucky’s bags were against the wall, clothes spilling out everywhere. The bedroom door was closed.
“You awake?” Bucky’s sleepy voice asked from behind you.
Startled at first, you rolled over and looked at him with a pout he probably couldn’t see. Even through the darkness you could see his hair was messy; you reached out to pat it flat, the softness tickling the tips of your fingers. He pulled the blanket up to his chin and sighed in response.
“Cold,” you told him. He nodded in agreement, sitting up and patting down the bed. When he found nothing he looked over the sides.
“Don’t know where our clothes are,” he reported.
“Neither. Tea?”
“Mmmmm, rock for it?“
He held his hand out in a fist. You played rock paper scissors and won, so Bucky got up. He was completely naked, and decided he would just hurry and make the tea rather than spend more time out of bed finding clothes. It seemed like an illogical choice to you, but you didn’t mind watching him walk from the room. You loved the dimples at the base of his spine.
Closing your eyes and settling back under the blankets, something landed on your head - your track pants and one of Bucky’s hoodies. You pulled them and were grateful for the warmth.
Bucky returned in a few minutes, putting two new cups of tea on the nightstand. He stacked up the others in a dangerous tower. Before you could suggest taking the old mugs to the kitchen, he dived under the covers and wrapped himself around you. His hands snaked under the hoodie and were freezing. You cried out and tried to push him away.
"Noooooo, Y/N, I’m cold. Help,” he whined.
Although you snorted sarcastically at him, you let him curl around you. His hands warmed up fast, and you were happy to have them on your skin.
“Can we stay home today?”
“Yeah, doll. Bed all day, I think,” he replied and rubbed his face against the hoodie. “You’re soft and warm,” he said and dragged you down under the blanket more. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “I love you,” he mumbled and you had to think for a second before you understood the collection of sounds and syllables.
“I love you, too.”
You fell back asleep with Bucky’s breath on your neck and his entire body entwined with yours.
When you woke, Bucky had dressed in flannelette pyjama pants. They were a light blue with little cats printed on them; the cats were also wearing pyjamas. He was sitting up drinking a cup of coffee, something he only did when you weren’t there to request tea instead. You sat up next to him and put your legs over his lap. He pulled them in close and looked at you, head resting back the headboard.
“I want you to have something, but you can’t freak out,” he said.
When you narrowed your eyes in suspicion, he laughed. You watched him sit up straight and pull the dog tags that had not left his body since you met him, over his head. For a moment you froze, then quickly moved your legs and started to move away from him. Bucky pulled you back.
“Y/N! I just said you can’t freak out,”
“You can’t do this,”
“Calm down. I’m not asking ya to marry me. Yet. They’re just… I don’t know. Just take them,” he laughed. You squirmed, but he managed to put the chain around you, the holy weight of them making you still. You looked down and ran your fingers over them.
“These… I…”
"I know. And I want you to have them.”
The rain outside was still pouring, and the warmth of the room against the cold glass had fogged up the windows. Bucky returned to his casual position, and you curled up next to him, your head in his lap. He ran his fingers through your hair as scribbled things down in his journal. You smiled to yourself, and fell back asleep.
❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤
Everything taglist: @bubbabarnes @barnesandco @the–sad–hatter @vibraniumwitch @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @fairislesheets @vibraniumdaisies @cristie24
AWWWWWWWWW 😭🥺💜
To wake up to this, omg. This is the literal dream. What a lucky girl 💜
Fucking imagine wow can’t relate to that level of content/happiness lmao
winter dreams
Summary: Six months after a perfect summertime kiss, you see him again in time for the new year. Music: Death Cab for Cutie - I Dreamt We Spoke Again
Pairing: Reader/Bucky
A/N: 2.1k words. Pining & Soft Bucky. Holiday fluff. TW: references to cancer
A follow up to summer skin but it’s not necessary to read it first. This was written for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan‘s Merry Kismet Writing Challenge. Thank you so much for hosting! The prompt is “You owe me a kiss.”
It’s cold.
December reaches your childhood home in disappointing periods of drizzling rain hitting windowpanes, fogging the insides gray with the house’s heat. Brief winter winds ice the city, never quite enough to flurry like how it did in New York.
Yet somehow, it feels colder here.
You bundle up all over when it sinks into your bones. Blankets and two pairs of wool socks, knitted hats and gloves indoors, still rattling, falling lovesick and not participating in festivities.
Your sisters chide the melancholy, ask you to cheer up, tell you it’s the most wonderful time of the year incoming. Tinsel and allspice, brown sugar candles and the crisp snap of pine. A real tree propped up by the fireplace, topped by a burning red star.
You miss him.
Keep reading
Drabble 4/? Bucky Barnes meet-cute featuring puppies and baked goods. 997 words My masterlist
It was a Sunday, which meant the bakery you worked at was packed with happy families and cute old people on cute old people dates. It was busy, but you loved making people smile with the pastry and the sugar and the milkshakes and the tea. Your boss had to basically kick you out the back door, calling "Don't come back for an hour Y/N. Take a proper break, yeah?"
You sat on some milk crates and started to look through your messages and apps when you heard a voice. Male. Gentle. You locked your phone and walked to the end of the alleyway. It joined another at a T-junction. You stuck your head around the corner. There was a person lying flat, their stomach on the grimy alley floor, with one arm under a dumpster. They were whispering.
You tried to not make a snap judgement. The person could be anyone doing anything, but your best friend's voice sounded in your head. 'Exactly, Y/N. Anyone. Anything! You're too trusting. Walk away.'
Instead, you walked closer to them. As you did you took notice of what they were wearing - surely it would help you to figure out what was happening. He was wearing jeans and nice black boots that were getting scuffed on the toes from the position he was lying in. He had a leather jacket on. You stood behind him, but he didn't seem to notice you there.
You went to announce yourself when he started speaking again.
"Come on," he whispered, then made some weird kissing sounds and clicked his fingers under the dumpster. Animal! He was trying to get an animal from under it? "I won't hurt you, come on."
"Do you need some help?" you asked.
The guy jumped, then looked up from the ground. His bright blue eyes sparkled as he smiled.
"There's a puppy," he informed you. You nodded. He moved out of the lying position, but stayed sitting by the bin with his legs crossed. "I saw it out on the street. Looked lost. He came down here and I could hear him cryin'. I think he's got a collar."
You knelt down and looked. There was definitely some sort of small animal there. You looked back to the guy. His shirt and jeans were dusty but he obviously didn't care.
Putting two fingers in your mouth, you whistled. It was the only thing you could think to do. Then, a better idea. "I could go get some food from my work?" you suggested.
As you both stood, the animal emerged. A puppy trotted out, unafraid, and sat at your feet. “Ashford!” you exclaimed and picked the puppy up.
"You know him?" the guy asked, patting the puppy behind the ears.
"Yeah, he belongs to one of our customers. I haven't seen her today though, so I don't know what this one is doing out and about… Um, I can walk him home though. I think they live just a few streets over," you said.
The guy nodded, continuing to pet the dog. You did that thing then, where you don't really laugh, but you push air out through your nose. He looked at you. "What?"
"You can't keep him," you said. He stopped patting Ashford and ran his hand through his hair, then looked at you. His eyes flicked across your face to each feature.
"I'm Bucky," he said, after clearly deciding what he wanted to say.
"Y/N. This is Ashford,"
"That's a weird name for a dog," Bucky said.
"Your name is Bucky?" you replied, amused.
"James, actually, Bucky is a nickname,"
"How is Bucky a nickname for James?"
"It's not. It's short for Buchanan. Middle name. James Buchanan Barnes."
"Bucky Barnes? Yeah. You're right. Ashford is definitely the one with the questionable name here,"
"Why are you being so mean?" Bucky laughed, following you as you began to walk down the alley.
"I'm not. I'm defending Ashford."
Bucky gave his attention back to the dog. He made faces at Ashford like you would a baby, which was not a logical thing to do. Ashford, however, watched Bucky. Eventually you handed over the small dog.
Bucky was happy and he held Ashford in his arms, also like you would a baby, and patted his tummy. It was kind of adorable. And, by 'kind of' you mean 'very fucking adorable and I am dying on the inside please set me on fire.'
"So, you work around here?" Bucky asked as you lead them through the streets. You told him about the bakery and how you loved it. "You smell like scones and donuts," he commented when you were done talking. You looked at him with an amused look. "It's nice," he finished, for clarification.
Ashford's street was pretty. The houses were clean and expensive, and the sidewalk was lined with green trees. Immediately you spotted Ashford's owner. She ran towards you and picked him up out of Bucky's arms. She said thank you a million times over, and offered a reward. You and Bucky both said no at the same time.
"Just glad he's home safe," Bucky told her. She nodded and walked away. You turned to Bucky. He was already looking at you. "Walk you back to work?" he offered.
The mid-afternoon sun was warm, and you walked close to Bucky, your arms brushing against his at times. As you walked, he made no attempt at further conversation. It was fine though. The silence was comfortable and easy.
Out the front of the bakery you said your goodbyes and you went inside.
'Well, he's clearly not a sociopath, Y/N. Should have asked him out! So cute!' Your best friend's voice was back.
You ran to the door and opened it, colliding with someone making their way in. You looked up. Bucky. He grinned.
"Sorry,"
"No, my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going," you replied.
"Where were you going?" he asked with a knowing tone.
❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥
Everything tag list (open): @bubbabarnes @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter @fairislesheets @vibraniumdaisies @cristie24 @barnesandco
Midnight
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: The clock strikes twelve in your new home, and you can’t sleep.
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: Smut, Bucky being a charming dummy.
A/N: I keep saying this but I’m supposed to be on a break. I’m not doing well at it (but finals are over, so yay!). This came to be after watching too many episodes of This Is Us and listening to my at night/at home playlists. You can blame @evanstarff for encouraging me, also for a few lines in the fic. I’d be lost without you, babe. Title and inspiration come from Midnight by Tessa Thompson, Mike WiLL Made-It, and Gunna. I suggest you listen to it while you read, or before, to get in the mood I was in while I wrote this. Also yes, I have two Bucky fics with the word midnight in them, sue me. Thank you for reading this long note; I ramble too much. Let me know what you guys think, and enjoy!
Links are being ugly again. Search #gigi writes for all my works!
~
The clock’s just gone ten past twelve when he feels you sleep out of bed.
Bucky shouldn’t know that— the time. He should be dead to the world, asleep in the comfort of his bed with his girl warm by his side, full and sated and happy thanks to good company, good food, and even better liquor that can actually do something to him. Instead, he’s hyper-aware and questioning why you wouldn’t be dead asleep too, and before he knows it, he’s following in your footsteps.
It’s weird, being awake at this hour.
The halls feel too narrow and you still haven’t put the pictures up so the walls look bare and cold, and the dining table is missing a leg so you had to have dinner on the couch but you couldn’t find the box with the cushions which, now that Bucky thinks about it is probably still at the compound and god that means he has to go up there again—
“Hey,” he hears, whisper-soft and cautious.
For a moment Bucky feels like maybe you’re the one that woke up to go after him, like how you used to do so long ago, worried about things neither of you could control. But no, it’s him, looking for you.
Keep reading
No Vacancy (1/5)
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Story Warnings: Both Bucky and Reader are gonna get kind of dark in this, so… Dark Fic, Very Dubious Consent, Somnophilia (sex with a sleeping partner – and it’s gonna be more than once), Breeding Kink, Rough Sex, Angry Sex, Hair-Pulling, Choking, Spanking, Degradation, Visible Marks, Angst, Feels, Mutual Pining, VERY OBVIOUSLY 18+
Summary: You and Bucky have been on so many missions together, you’ve lost count. How is it that you’ve never shared a bed until now?
A/N: Because I’m useless at working on my other fics hERE’S ANOTHER WIP 🤷 Get ready to get fucked up on this feels train, y’all. You can thank @iwantutobehapppier and @venusofthehardsells for the agony. And those filthy tags. god damn it
It feels like a fever dream, the way his fingertips dig so deliciously into your breasts, your buttocks, your thighs, let alone when they slide in between. Bucky touches you where you’re oh-so-vulnerable until you’re sure you’re delirious, and it’s all hazy and so, so good—
And then the drag of his cock against your folds sends a shiver down your spine. It jars you awake.
“Bucky,” you whisper, voice hoarse from sleep. Your hand fumbles around behind you in the darkness, but all you can feel is him. “What are you—?”
Heart hammering inside of your chest, you finally grip his thigh; you’re frozen, poised, ready to push him away but all you can focus on is the heat of him in between your legs, the thrum of excitement rushing through your veins.
You want this.
Keep reading
Idk what’s hippity happitying but I’m kinda into ittttty yew yew
Favorite thing about being a fic writer is the comments. No seriously unless you’re a fic writer you don’t understand the level of kindness and almost heroin-esque level high writers get from getting thoughtful feedback from loyal readers. It’s fantastic.
So this is probably a weird question but imma ask you because you’re a fellow fanfic writer. So I wrote fanfics on here, but I’m majoring in education to become a teacher. That means I’m probably going to have to trash my blog Even though I don’t wanna. Should I try backing up the fics or just yet the blog into the trash bin
Wait, why does that mean you have to trash the blog?
Anyway, if you’re really proud of your fics and have a big attachment to your blog, I’d say keep them (the blog and the fics). And you can always repost the fics to archive of our own or Wattpad.
Gonna jump on this one with you @propertyofpoeandbucky
It wasn’t this blog, but I used to run a very successful fanfic blog for Van McCann (singer of a band). At the same time, I was a high school teacher. I taught English and Psychology to 12-19 year olds. They even knew I wrote fic and loved Van! I just kept my blog anonymous (code name, not much personal talk beyond fandom stuff). It was fine and totally worked. I would still have the blog if Tumblr hadn’t made it explicit and killed it lol. 🥰🤷🏻♀️
Undercover
(Bucky Barnes x reader)
A/N: Inspired by this post, but Bucky is more protective than jealous.
Summary: You and Bucky go on an undercover mission, where you need to pretend to be married. You are close to solving the case when Bucky decides he’s done pretending.
Warnings: mention of dead bodies and murder, swearing, mention of sexy times (not nsfw because i just didn’t feel like it)
Wordcount: 3.4k
Masterlist
“Just in case something happens, we need some sort of code to now if we’re speaking ‘out of character’ ”. You air-quoted after you hid a rifle under the floral sofa of your pretend family home. You got off your knees and walked over to Bucky, who was checking the camera hidden in the bookshelf.
“How about I only call you doll when it’s me talking, and not Chris.” Bucky grimaced at the mention of his alias name for the mission. He wasn’t a big fan of undercover missions and now that he had act like a suburban newlywed, he wasn’t impressed.
“I’ll call you baby then.” You stuck out your tongue at the camera, knowing the surveillance team was watching you.
“Baby?” He cocked his head to the side and you turned to him with a smirk.
“What, can’t I call my husband baby?” You joked, unaware of how much Bucky hated that this was all only pretending.
Keep reading
I wanna kiss Bucky Barnes’ face toooooooooo
Looking for the Bucky x Reader fics I write? Yay! Thank you! Click here to go to my Tumblr masterlist. Click here to visit them on A03. You can find my Van McCann (Catfish and the Bottlemen) fics there too.
Tag lists for individual series or all my work are always open. Just shoot me a message, my dude.
I post lists of all the writers I can find on Tumblr who publish Bucky x Reader fics. Click here to go through the ever-growing collection of lists!
I also post lists of fanfic I’ve read that are that gooooood shit. Click here for those.
Drabble 3/? Cold bedrooms in the early morning darkness, and Bucky’s dog tags. 830 words My masterlist
The room was still dark despite the blinds not being all the way closed, and the sound of rain bucketing down on the roof drowned out Bucky’s usual just-audible snores. You tried to remember if you had taken your pyjama pants off in the lounge room when Bucky started to kiss your neck, or if it was later, in the bedroom.
If it was the latter, you might have been able to reach out of bed and grab them without getting any colder. You looked around whilst trying not to move too much but were able to make out shapes in the stormy morning light.
The bedside table housed three mugs of what was probably half-finished tea. Your phone was there, Bucky’s resting on top. They were both dead, and since you had been back in each other's arms, you hadn’t bothered putting them on charge. Bucky’s bags were against the wall, clothes spilling out everywhere. The bedroom door was closed.
"You awake?" Bucky’s sleepy voice asked from behind you.
Startled at first, you rolled over and looked at him with a pout he probably couldn’t see. Even through the darkness you could see his hair was messy; you reached out to pat it flat, the softness tickling the tips of your fingers. He pulled the blanket up to his chin and sighed in response.
"Cold," you told him. He nodded in agreement, sitting up and patting down the bed. When he found nothing he looked over the sides.
"Don't know where our clothes are," he reported.
"Neither. Tea?"
"Mmmmm, rock for it?"
He held his hand out in a fist. You played rock paper scissors and won, so Bucky got up. He was completely naked, and decided he would just hurry and make the tea rather than spend more time out of bed finding clothes. It seemed like an illogical choice to you, but you didn't mind watching him walk from the room. You loved the dimples at the base of his spine.
Closing your eyes and settling back under the blankets, something landed on your head - your track pants and one of Bucky’s hoodies. You pulled them and were grateful for the warmth.
Bucky returned in a few minutes, putting two new cups of tea on the nightstand. He stacked up the others in a dangerous tower. Before you could suggest taking the old mugs to the kitchen, he dived under the covers and wrapped himself around you. His hands snaked under the hoodie and were freezing. You cried out and tried to push him away.
"Noooooo, Y/N, I'm cold. Help," he whined.
Although you snorted sarcastically at him, you let him curl around you. His hands warmed up fast, and you were happy to have them on your skin.
"Can we stay home today?"
"Yeah, doll. Bed all day, I think," he replied and rubbed his face against the hoodie. "You're soft and warm," he said and dragged you down under the blanket more. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and nuzzled into the crook of your neck. "I love you," he mumbled and you had to think for a second before you understood the collection of sounds and syllables.
"I love you, too."
You fell back asleep with Bucky’s breath on your neck and his entire body entwined with yours.
When you woke, Bucky had dressed in flannelette pyjama pants. They were a light blue with little cats printed on them; the cats were also wearing pyjamas. He was sitting up drinking a cup of coffee, something he only did when you weren’t there to request tea instead. You sat up next to him and put your legs over his lap. He pulled them in close and looked at you, head resting back the headboard.
"I want you to have something, but you can't freak out," he said.
When you narrowed your eyes in suspicion, he laughed. You watched him sit up straight and pull the dog tags that had not left his body since you met him, over his head. For a moment you froze, then quickly moved your legs and started to move away from him. Bucky pulled you back.
"Y/N! I just said you can't freak out,"
"You can't do this,"
"Calm down. I'm not asking ya to marry me. Yet. They’re just... I don’t know. Just take them," he laughed. You squirmed, but he managed to put the chain around you, the holy weight of them making you still. You looked down and ran your fingers over them.
"These... I...”
"I know. And I want you to have them."
The rain outside was still pouring, and the warmth of the room against the cold glass had fogged up the windows. Bucky returned to his casual position, and you curled up next to him, your head in his lap. He ran his fingers through your hair as scribbled things down in his journal. You smiled to yourself, and fell back asleep.
❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤
Everything taglist: @bubbabarnes @barnesandco @the--sad--hatter @vibraniumwitch @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @fairislesheets @vibraniumdaisies @cristie24
Caught In The Fire 1 - The Funeral [Mobster! Bucky Barnes x Reader]
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback to the preview my loves! Please don’t forget to tell me what you think of this chapter, kisses!
Summary: Funeral of a mob boss is not the best place to reconnect.
Word Count: 2601
Warnings: Violence, death, funerals, crime, explicit language. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
Ever since you were a child, you had always found it strange that one’s family could determine their fates. Granted there were people who could break that cycle and choose what they wanted to do with their lives, but nearly no one around you had been that lucky, including you.
When your father had moved here decades ago, he had used up to his last penny to buy a pub and turned it into a bakery, and only after buying it he had realized that it wasn’t some kind of luck that it had been so cheap. The problem was the location and as he had been informed by two men who dropped by the next day after the opening, the bakery was built on the neutral ground, right in the middle of these gang territories. Each family ruled a different part of the city, and the neutral ground was off limits, so whenever the gangs needed to make sure that they wouldn’t get shot or ambushed, they would meet up there.
Pub served a better purpose, but even they had to admit, a bakery looked much less suspicious.
At first you didn’t even know. You were just a child after all, and your father had made sure to usher you back to the kitchen or to the backyard whenever certain people showed up, and you had never protested because as far as you were concerned when you were six years old, all grown-ups did was talk about boring things and glare at each other. But one of those days when you were sitting on the stairs at the back of the bakery, trailing the spoon in the bowl full of cake batter you had stolen from the kitchen, a boy with bright blue eyes and dark hair walked to the backyard.
“What are you eating?”
You looked up from the bowl, making him stifle a laugh at the sight of the cake batter all over your face and you looked behind you to check your father was nowhere to be seen, then held up the bowl,
“Do you want some?”
“What’s that?”
“Peach cake batter,” you said, “Daddy says it makes you sick if you eat too much but it’s delicious.”
He frowned, “Cake doesn’t make you sick.”
“It does if it’s unbaked. It gives you—“ you thought for a moment, trying to remember what it was called. “It gives you salmons you see.”
“Salmon is a fish.”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “Exactly. It – it makes fish in your stomach, so they make you sick.”
He didn’t look like he believed you, but didn’t say anything as he took the spoon you offered him and dug it into the batter before taking it into his mouth.
“Daddy says customers aren’t supposed to be here.” You said and he shrugged his shoulders.
“My dad is making a deal in there, and I got bored waiting in the car with his men,” he mumbled before he gave you the spoon back “Will you tell them I’m here?”
You smiled at him brightly and shook your head,
“No.” you said, and offered him your hand because you were sure that was what you were supposed to do when you met someone new, “I’m Y/N.”
“James Buchanan Barnes,” he shook your hand and you scrunched up your face.
“That’s a lot.”
He grinned at you, “You can call me Bucky,” he said, “Everyone else does.”
“Miss?” you were pulled out of your thoughts when the woman waiting at the door motioned at you, “Arms up please.”
Right. Of course.
Everyone had to be checked for weapons when they walked into the Barnes household, especially in times like these. You held up the tray so that she could pat you down and once she was sure you weren’t carrying any weapons, she took a look under the foil to see what was in it and let you pass. You tried not to get distracted by the huge house, that familiar pang shooting into your heart at how different it was from your small apartment, but you shook your head and walked into the living room to put the tray next to other food before pulling the aluminum foil off to ball it in your hands. The house was packed with so many people, all there to pay their respects for the deceased mob boss or get on his son Bucky’s good side, since he was about to take over the family business.
Or to make sure their alliances continued.
But the one thing you knew about everyone in this room? They were not to be crossed.
Keep reading
Holy fucking shit I am so in love with this
