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Clarity: 3

Clarity

Chapter 3: Stepping Stones

Summery: She skipped her session for a break, while he skipped his for a breather.

Bucky x Blind Reader

Walking in the library just in time, I sat down before I was caught being late. Brother thought it was funny to stop at a hotdog stand just to get him one. Either way, I made it just in time. Placing all my things around me, then grabbed my phone, clutching it between my fingers.

For the past week, I was overthinking everything. We had an amazing conversation. We bonded even more, we’re practically old high school friends. But then when Thursday afternoon rolled around and mother started talking about the support groups, my mind instantly channeled to my mystery man.

Would he want to stop talking and just continue his work? Or would he start to ask questions about random things just like how he did last Friday.

I didn’t want to bother him that much. Considering we’re still fresh strangers, it was funny tho, because I feel like I’ve known this man my entire life. The way he’s always brooding in the dark, how his scent never fails to perk up my scenes, how his steps could be as silent as a feather, or how he would stomp his feet like a pregnant elephant. Sadly enough, I didn’t know anything more about him, save for he likes plums and works with my brother.

Speak of the devil. His footsteps were loud and full of authority. He made himself over to his seat, I sat there fidgeting while biting my lip. I wanted to ask him, wanted to talk to him, to see him…

He was cleaning out his things in spite of annoying me taking his time, all it did was get me all worked up and the courage to become nothing but butterflies fluttering inside my stomach.

“Stop moving so much, you look stupid.”

His sentence instantly came across as rude, but then, it clicked. He wanted to talk. Not ignore me and start working in whatever he normally does in the computer, pen and pencil.

“I don’t look stupid.” It came out as a whisper, merely because we’re at a library and I didn’t want to be thrown out.

“Well, you can’t see yourself.” He started, placing his pen over the paper. The thick ink and lid made a screeching sound as he sighed documents- Again that’s what my brain made it out to be.

“I’d like to think I look quite beautiful.” I countered, the phone still clutched between my fingers.

He chuckled, his vibrant boisterous laugh was something new. It sounded so manly, so raw, so edgeless… “I never said you look ugly,” He clarified, “Just stupid.” He corrected. If I didn’t know any better, I would say he had the butt of his pen pointed at me, in a teasing manner.

“What’s the difference?” I challenged. He was working in his computer now, I didn’t want to bother him more then I already had, but then… he’s just so intriguing.

“Definition of Ugly; Very unattractive or unpleasant to look at.” He trailed, his voice a million miles away, the scribbling of pen and key clicking taking over the small cubical of a library were at. “Definition of Stupid; Lacking ordinary quickness and keenness of mind.” He finished. Tapping his pen over the brim of the table.

“Then how did I look like I was ‘lacking ordinary quickness and keenness of mind’?” The grin I had plastered over my face was probably face splitting.

He stopped for a second, judging from what I hear, he was flipping through papers. But I knew his eyes were trained on me.

“Because you were moving like a 3 year old who pooped her pants.” He concluded, throwing a cold snort in the end.

Damn this man. I stayed silent then, tucking lose strands of hair behind my ear. I was running late so brushing my hair was out of the question. Thursday night was spent worrying if my mystery man was even going to talk to me; the thought of him suddenly leaving me alone when he became such a fixed variable in my life had scared everything out of me. It was… scary, so I overslept that Friday morning.

A weird feeling would run up my spine every now and then. Which would only mean he was staring at me. In all Honesty I think I was staring at him but then again I can’t tell.

“Can you tell me something about you?” It was sudden. Like there was no filter. But it came out from deep within my thoughts. I just needed to know something, I needed a description to ask my brother about. How I would bring up the subject was beyond me but I had to get information from him first. Mystery man was step number one.

“Exactly why should I tell you anything about myself?” He released an audible sigh, clicking his computer shut before hitting the brim of his pen over the hard word. The ‘click’ of the pen not going unnoticed.

“Because you can see me, but I can’t. I feel so…” I didn’t understand what to say, it was hard to voice out all my thoughts. There were so many excuses as to why he should describe himself to me, but then again… isn’t that human rights? His human rights if he ever so wishes to share things. But then, the way he demanded I answer him last week… he’s a brutal man non the less… so he just might need to taste his own medicine.

“Blind.” He finished instantly. It was funny. The way my heart was oozing delight. He understood me, he didn’t beat himself over something everyone was scared of doing; Talking to me like my age.

“Yes…”

“No.”

It was fast, the way he answered. Like he didn’t even need a second to think it over. What was so bad and scary about the fact I just wanted to know how he looked? Instead, I pushed out.

“It’s not like I’m going to do something, no one would trust a blind girl anyways-” It was a small shift, his feet from under had grazed mine by accident. Since he pulled away fast. “I’m blind, I can’t see anything, I won’t even be a threat to you.” This was it, I won’t bug him about anything anymore if he so as much stopped talking to me.

What we had going on here, was something big and I didn’t want to change that. Not now, not ever. This thing between us is progress, we started out as strangers and now we talk like friends.

“I have blue eyes, and brown hair.” His reply was gruff. I supposed that’s how he sounds like when he’s forced to do something he didn’t like. Its so perfect it’s like I can imagine the way he looks just by his actions.

“How tall?” It was quick, my question. Because I was afraid if he stopped talking then he would just ignore me for the day.

“Six feet something.”

“Gosh your so tall!” I let out, it was faint, but the way he snorted had emitted a blush from me. “What’s your favorite color?”

“I don’t have one.” He replied, “Is that all Miss (Y/L/N)?” The way he said my last name had caught me by surprise. It was like a bucket of ice cold water had been splashed over my heart. I stayed frozen for a second before remembering my brother works with him.

And suddenly, it because quite… his computer keys clicking while my breathing was being evened out.

When the time came, I stood. Put on my things and turned around where I hoped he would be. “I’ll see you next week.” I spoke. Before I had the chance to turn around his voice caught me by surprise.

“Sure you would.”

It clicked in my brain the choice of words I decided to give him. A radiant blush crept over my face, “Have a good week.”

“I doubt it,” He mumbled. His mumbles would probably get him killed someday, he just says whatever is on his mind without even thinking about it.

“If it makes you feel any better… I have to help mother babysit a few kids from the block for the whole week.” I stated.

“Good luck.” He spoke softly. He was truly a man of mystery. Without a second thought, I walked out before he could say anything else to keep me late.

“Good afternoon.” I was totally astonished, his voice was it’s normal murmur. But the fact he was here earlier then me had me thinking exactly why he comes here early. He never had an exact measured time when he comes, but he always would come after I’m sitting down for a few minutes.

This just has to be one of the very few times he had beaten me to our secret spot.

“Good afternoon.” I answered. My things following suit beside me. I grabbed my phone thinking he didn’t want to talk this week since he hadn’t been doing much over the past two weeks.

“How was baby sitting for you?” When your blind, all you have is the scenes of hearing. So that’s all I relied on for the last 3 whole years. His tone, was the first thing I look for when he says anything. To make sure he isn’t annoyed. And if he was, I would take the hint. This time, he just didn’t have much of a tone. It was like friendly chit chatting.

“It was… something new.” I started, pushing my hair away from tickling my cheeks. “One kid bit me because he thought he could, another one peed on me, then we have that one girl who pulled my hair and forced my eyelids open.” It was just meant to keep him updated, not make him ask me more. So before he could even have the time to ask me anything anymore. I went ahead and asked, “How about your week… if I’m not mistaken last week you sounded like it was the end of the world.”

He chuckled, “It was annoying. Had to deal with so many annoying idiots. I just don’t understand why they work for Stark.” His complaining side was something new. A new side of him, that I suddenly liked. He sounded like a whiney little girl.

“It’s not like your an angle to work with.” I mumbled between his rants. He stopped, almost taking offense. “Your so uptight and strict-”

“Well, I like things getting done when they should. The way they should.”

“What exactly happened?” I asked, not even bothering taking out my phone this time.

“We went to Russia, to get a few documents. I’m very pleased we didn’t finish the mission.“

His words were that of a solider, without a doubt. He spoke barbarous like. “How can you be happy, that you failed your mission from Tony Stark?” I asked, see… this is my only time to get him to chalk up his identity. He said mission, so he must have worked with the big league.

“Because the recruited people had failed.” He explained. I stayed silent for a while. He needs to tell me about himself.

“Were you the leader?”

“More or less,” He answered instantly. At this point my heart was racing, scared if he funded out I had a second intention for our conversation, if he works for Stark then he could probably hear my beating heart.

“Do you even enjoy what you do?” He sounds grumpy all the time, like he was forced to do the things he has to do.

“I enjoy the action, not the debriefing or the report typing.” He explained. He sounded guarded for a second. As if he found out what I need him to say.

“Are you done questioning me, or should I just put my life story out for you,” I knew he was being sarcastic, was just playing around. But I wanted it, I wanted to know him.

“Actually-”

“I was being sarcastic,”

“Gosh,” I mumbled, I had enough of him, “Saying your whole life story might be a bit exadurating, but how about something about your self?”

“I already told you something about me.” He stated. He shifted in his seat and his legs brushed mine from under see the table, this time gen didn’t need move it.

“Can I ask about the avengers?” I asked, if this guy is brooding all the time, complaining that he always hates what he’s doing, and mumbles a shit ton of crap about Steve, then I’m asking him about his job either he like she it or not. “For one last and only question?” He noiselessly hummed for me to ask away.

And so I did.

“Is Steve that one who’s best friends with the Winter Solider?” It was an innocent question. Something I wanted to know. He was shocked, his breathing stopped half way, he must not have noticed talking about him, because then he wouldn’t be so shook.

“Yes.”

“Oh, wow Captain America is so sweet!” I exclaimed, this guy, who ever he is, is hiding something important and doesn’t even want to let go.

“Is that what you think of him?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“He’s the best leader, Amazing at his job. A wonderful person, very brave.”

“The Winter Solider?” My mystery man almost sounded scared. Like he needed to know my output on all of the people he worked with.

“He’s… different.“ I replied softly, truth be told James Buchanan Barnes was released out for the media about the same month I was hit by the car. So I never saw a picture of him, especially since the one the government released was actually a fraud.

"Obviously, but what do you think of the Wintet Solider, former assassin, H.Y.D.R.A.’s greater weapon.” The way the sentence was structured. Like it was thought out, like my mystery man had history with James Barnes.

“I don’t know, I never got to meet him.”

“Such an honest reply.”

“Such a vague question.“

"Just wondering.” Just before he finished his sentence, he clicked his computer shut and shuffled his papers and pens in one area. The table rattling from between us.

“What do you think of him?” I asked suddenly, shattering his train of thoughts.

“I think he’s a Monster. He should be dead.” His tone was dead. The atmosphere around us was very thin. Just who am I talking to?

That scared me, I thought when he called me useless it stung. But now he’s talking about a man that went through years or torture and has the decency to call him out? Why…

“He was forced,” I explained softly, grabbing my phone from my bag, then placed it between my fingers and waiting for him to contribute to my explanation.

“Doesn’t make him less of a monster then he already is.” Mystery man stated. Like it was just normal to call people stuff like this.

“He’s better now, my brother talked about him a few days ago-”

“What exactly did he say?”

“That Bucky is very strong and a great hero.”

After that, it was silent. Truth be told I just didn’t feel comfortable talking to him at the moment, so I grabbed my headphones and jammed them in.

When the time rolled by, I stood up feeling for my things and grabbed my crane. Just as I was about to move out, he spoke.

“Bucky Barnes, still killed people with his own hands.”

“But not over his free will.” I retorted quietly. “Tell you what, a few years back we had a history class just for him, the teacher said that he spent over seventy years being tortured until just a few missions back did they break through him.” I was rambling, but this man needed to be put in place. “So imagine how strong his will was. What would you do if you were in his place?”

“Probably give up.”

“So he’s not a monster.”

With that said, I walked away before he could say anything else. He’s scary when he’s angry. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it now. His bluntness will get him killed some day. Leaving the library with a sour mood wasn’t what I expected this week, thanks to mister ‘Let’s judge everyone based on their life story’, Non the less, I was still hopeful for next week.

A/N:

Tagging is still open, Here is a link to my MasterList to catch up: //Masterlist

Tagging: @solsticestorm @smilexcaptainx @shamvictoria11 @my-jekyll-doesnt-hide @heyitsarial @thelovablesociopath-blog @itsemz @themistsofmyavalon @damnbuckyishot @xaivierkun @slashheartlover @solsticestorm @crazybarnes @caitsymichelle13 @satanssmuts

soldierplum

Clarity: 2

Clarity

Chapter 2: Say Something

Summery: She skipped her session for a break, while he skipped his for a breather.

Bucky X Reader

His presence was something different. The way he walked with pride, how his steps sounded very deep and thick. He had surly served in the army, if not he must have done something related to that. His musk somehow gives off power and the smell of outside. But non the less his scent was pleasing on some levels.

He would always be scribbling down notes, or typing away on that one computer he always manages to slam over the hard wood tables. Muttering was second nature to him, he was always going on about ‘Steve this, and Steve that’ with the occasional ‘Sam that bird shit,’ it never made scenes. I’m pretty sure it didn’t make scenes to anyone in general. But he was my mystery man. He was the guy who I looked forward to seeing after he had made it to the third meeting of our secret day- it somehow became an unspoken promise, a pack between the two of us that we would relish in the feeling of each other every Friday afternoon.

He never said much, hardly anything. If it wasn’t for the soft murmurs I would have pegged him as mute. His murmurs did sound attractive in his own way, never wanting to admit to a complete stranger of course. I don’t even know the guy.

Making my way to my table, I was happy to find that he still wasn’t there, last week he had come early, throwing a snide remark of how I had come been late- when in reality he seemed afraid I had ditched our pack.

And then it hit me, it wasn’t only I who looked forward to these meetings- even tho all we did was sit in silence- he had enjoyed my presence. He would always come, that at least I was certain of without a doubt.

So, placing all my things down neatly, just like any other time. I got ready to start the day with him. I wished to ask him things, to know him for him and not what ever lies my brain made up of him.

So far, my brain had concluded he’s an old man who was probably single. He didn’t sound like he was married, my mystery man would most likely be labeled as ‘Married to his work’ kind of guy.

“You don’t understand Steve,” Thick boots stomped down over the carpeted tile. “I don’t feel like it.” His voice was ruthless, almost elegant. He showed power, his sentences cut to the point in ways bluntness wasn’t a problem. “I don’t care, I’m not a kid, I can take care of my damn self. Tell Stark I don’t need his pity charity.” He grunted, probably having to deal with idiots on the other end. “I don’t care, tell him to screw his damn money, if that would be all I’m a little busy.” Leaving no room to argue he went ahead and clicked the end, as three consecutive beeps were heard.

So I waited, a bit scared he might be afraid and lash out over whatever I would do. His tone was arrogant almost, if not then I would say someone who had enough of shit being served to him.

He didn’t take his time, placing his computer and book, and then I mustered up all the courage I could, softly, and slowly, I muttered. “Are you fine…?” It then followed by an even softer, “Why are you angry…?”

I didn’t really expect him to answer, it was more of worry statement. But his gruff voice before had sounded exactly what I would have pictured him to be. And having him speaks to me directly almost made me blush scarlet red.

“I’m just fine.” Like that, I guessed he went back to typing. The key bored clicking as it released a rhythmical tone. He typed fast, as if his life depended on it. I would guess he writes reports, since all he ever does was just sit there and shake the table with his aggressive writing. Sometimes I would move a little from the table my phone in hand and buds in my ears. Listening to the book while having the volume a little low. Just incase he wanted to say something.

The clock ticked about and three rolled over, I stood, ducked my head a little and muttered my good buys. I felt his eyes on me, my conclusion was only approved with the fact he stopped typing. And so, his muttering of a gruff reply left me smiling the whole week.

—

Stark, Mr. Stark… Tony Stark.

He let it slip last week without realizing. Or, I let it go over deaf ears… he said something about not needing Tony Starks money. It should have clicked then, he was a working man- at least that my brain had guessed right. The typing and angry frustrated mumbling should have been a key factor.

My brother usually does it now, his irritable silent talking was getting the better of him. Always mumbling things dark under his breath as he went about talking to whatever inanimate object was before him- Telling a pencil it was useless and ugly when the top broke off-.

So my brother came home from work, muttering things about charity and the name, 'Mr. Stark…’ It was like cold water had been washed over my body. Like a door opened up that I didn’t know was closed. I finally knew something about him, without having to ask. It seemed funny, how my days would always be spent spoofing around about him while he had a life of his own.

Then I found my self asking brother many things about this so called charity. He didn’t say much, considering he wasn’t even in the division. All he had to offer was Mr. Stark selected people to be sponsored by him, he said they had great ideas, something that could shape up the future. How Stark industries was looking for a new head.

All the new information was feeding my imagination. If my mystery man had dedicated time from his life to attend the library every Friday, do his work, and bark about how he 'Didn’t need charity money’ I would say he’s filthy rich. He matched that new story very well, a gay rich man who just so happened to work for Stark industries. He must be married to that other man named Steve… And then I was stumped over that one time he mentioned someone called Sam… could be his daughter or a pet…

The week however was spent talking to my brother, about everything he knows for this charity. Non the less, Friday afternoon came Rolling around like Any other week.

Walking over to the table, I sat down, waiting for my mystery man. After a couple of minutes, his musk and stops came crumbling down over the chair before me- it was more of a miracle the librarian still hasn’t banned him from the place.

“Your brother works for Tony Stark.” He didn’t even bother acknowledging a normal 'Hello’ or 'Hi’ Just a statement about my brothers personal life.

I was startled at first, his voice was toneless, meaning he didn’t even sound excited that he found something on me, or worried that my brother is working for someone he knew.

“Y-yes…” My voice trailed uncertain, I was waiting for him to continue his conversation since he was the one who had initiated it from the start. Receiving non, I went ahead to ask, “How did you know…?”

He hummed, “He works like a a lost dog for Tony, Steve asked him why so your brother said it was going for your eye operation…” He didn’t want to say more then what he had already revealed about his social life, “So your not born blind?” His words were something new.

Like he didn’t care he was practically hitting the bulls eye with each of his words. He didn’t sugar coat it either, he didn’t coo his self around the words. No, he just plain out asked about it. Like it wouldn’t even hurt my feelings. “No, I wasn’t always blind.” I had my fingers wrap around my phone just under the table over my legs.

He hummed, then shut down his computer. “Then why in Hell do you come here, your blind.” He started, scotching his chair. “You can’t read or anything.” He continued his voice void of any emotions. “A library would be the last place a blind girl would enter.”

“Well…”

He didn’t let me explain, instead, he went ahead and continued to intricate me. “Doesn’t it bother you, your brother is working day and night just for your operation while you spend the day in a library?” He sure was blunt. For a second I felt sorry for who ever has to work for him. Or even with him for the matter. He doesn’t understand personal space. Just a few days ago I had the same urge to ask for his information like this.

“I don’t know.” I started. Holding my hand up for him to stop talking. “Of course I feel bad, even when I told him not to he still wants to help…” Why…? “Because we’re family. Were brother and sister, he loves me.” Just like any other siblings. “When I get better, I will repay him without a doubt.” My explanations were all over the place. I knew he was staring me down, oh what I would give to see him. “I come here because I can.”

He stayed silent. I was afraid he went back to typing and writing, but then he surprised me, “You look useless.”

It was so strait forward, so real, so honest, so… him, that it just felt fine. It felt fine to be called that, it felt fine because I know I’m useless at this stage. Having no vision…? I would give up my scenes of sound just to see again. He never sugar coated anything- everyone around me would be scared to even initiate a conversation with me because their afraid they might 'trigger’ me. Such fools. For years now, I haven’t felt human, “I know.” I whispered, “I’ve been blind for almost 4 years now. I would say 3…” What I would give to know something about him… anything. But I’ll wait, afraid I might scare him off, I’ll let him ask me personal questions, but I won’t because I’m afraid. I’ll find a way, I’ll be sneaky and I’ll find a way to get around to ask his name without him knowing. I’ll let it slip by…

“Mom, dad?” He asked, he most likely had his hands crossed over his chest. Staring me down with the most intense eyes there is.

“Mom, works as a nurse. Dad works at a car dealership. He hurt his hip so he’s home most of the time now.” I explained, placing a lose strand of my hair behind my ear. “You already know about my brother…”

“Yes.” He stated. What kind of man is he? What kind of human being talks like this… he’s so strait, strict and blunt. “Why Tony Stark…?” My mystery man asked, this time, his voice was curious. From all the jobs my brother could have chosen… he went to Mr. Stark.

“He pays a lot, first person who accepted my brothers application-”

“-His application was phenomenal. Who ever he was applying for was stupid enough to let him slip.” The mystery man explained.

It then clicked. He could tell me what he worked as, why my brother never liked to tell us what he does. Just what could my brother be so good at?

“By any chance… could you please tell me what he does…?” I came closer to the table, letting my phone stay over my legs. My hair came between my cheeks and my face inched closer.

“He didn’t tell his family?”

“No,”

“Then it’s not my place to say. Just know, he’s extraordinary.”

“He doesn’t clean toilets and hand out mints?”

“The fuck…?”

“Never mind.”

Like that, the sound of a pen scribbling over paper was heard. I let my head hang low, I was debating weather or not to ask him. To demand at least something. But he was so rude. God knows if he would even acknowledge me.

“Tell me something about you.” Before I even knew it, the words slipped from between my chapped lips.

“I work at Stark Tower-”

“I already knew that, something that I don’t, please.” He was looking for loop holes. He wanted me to stop asking, that I know. It was laced around his tone, the way he sighed and slammed the pen over the table in annoyance. I almost felt bad for annoying him, then again, it’s not like I had asked that much.

“What do you want to know?”

“Something, anything…?”

He didn’t say anything after that, and stayed expecting him to continue, my eyes were open as wide as plates. But then the keyboards clicking over took the silent library. And I hung my head and listened to my book, placing it over median sound just incase he would say something. Crossing my hands over the desk and laying my head letting his fuming typing lull me to a blissful state of relaxation, for another few hours until my phone’s alarm clock knocked over the narrator indicating it was time to go.

I stood up, placing my phone in my tote bag, and wrapped my scarf, before buttoning up my jacket. Just as I pushed my chair, he said, “I adore Plums.” He didn’t even pick up his hands from his work, instead it was like he was placed on auto tune and just stated that one fact like it was nothing.

My mood was instantly brightened. What was a soft frown now a grin starching all the way over to my ears, pearly whites on display. I nodded like a mad man, “Thank you!” I felt like hugging him, but that scared me… just how close am I to this stranger…? Why was I already feeling the urge to step into his personal bubble…? A very warm feeling overtook the pit of my stomach. I didn’t understand why, but he makes me happy… and I hope he would for the rest of my blindness…

A/N:

Masterlist to catch up on anything you want: //Masterlist

Tagging Still Open:

@solsticestorm @smilexcaptainx @shamvictoria11 @my-jekyll-doesnt-hide @heyitsarial @thelovablesociopath-blog @itsemz @theloveablesociopath @xaivierkun @damnbuckyishot @themistsofmyavalon

soldierplum

Clarity: 1

Clarity

Chapter 1: Skipping

Summery: She skipped her session for a break, while he skipped his for a breather.

Bucky x Blind! Reader

The sinless feathers dusted the metallic swings, as they swayed back and forth with the raw gusts of air. The eerie screech of the rusted metal plates clang together. The once apricot colored leafs crackling under the arctic air, caking the pure snow, leaving dots of brown and orange, even light scarlet.

The City was quite, save for the noiseless rustling of the nude tree branches, the silent chirps of the green insects. As the moon hid behind the clouds, leaving a dusty blue hue to fall over the streets. With the lampposts hung high over the heads of the citizens.

It happened fast, almost as if it was planned. The car honked, slammed its breaks and skidded over the sleet coated roads. The cars expensive front had slammed into my chest, sending me spiraling over the jagged pieces of left over broken glass, that gathered at the brim of the roads.

It happened fast. How I was sent to the hospital, how they wrapped a bandage over my head. How they had announced I had lost my sight.

It happened fast, how the season changed, how many days my family spent at work rather then around the table cracking jokes with my older brother, as my mother serves a dollop of mash potatoes, my dad at the side as he try’s to sneak in another helping serving of meat.

It happened fast. How everything changed.

But it was fine. I foun- or the more appropriate term would be- my Mom had found an amazing groupie of people who had lost their sight just like me. I chalked up the whole ordeal to my Mom finally giving up on getting the money for the surgery and wants me to finally accept the reality of my fate. It was a lot of going back and forth. I didn’t like it, the sessions. The group of blind people were- as bluntly as I can put it- born blind. They never experienced the blinding (pun intend) rays of the sunset, as the yellow meshes with red and creates the warmest orange known to men kind. They never had the advantage of seeing the world, so they sat down together and blabbed around how being blind wasn’t a disadvantage.

I had to disagree, for obvious reasons.

Being robbed from my sight had left me weak, I was always lost. I didn’t have enough money to get a dog, so I was left with a cheap clunky metal cane. Tapping the ground as a form of echo location. It was scary. How everything was dark now. I could see warm yellow spots, only a reminder of the scorching sun I would never be able to witness again.

So, every Friday, I would be driven to the blind community sessions. It was very annoying. Every session was the same, you would introduce yourself followed by telling how your week had been, then the ring leader would close of the day by reminding up how blindness was in fact not a definition of being a handicap.

It got annoying, after the third session, I found my self practically coaching myself on how to approach my mom about not wanting to attend the stupid ‘happy go lucky’ meetings. I would come up with speeches, each living up to its own ruthlessness. Only when the day had come when I mustered up the bits of courage I had. I wilted in shame, my head hung low as I begged my Mom, each word escaped from between my quivering lips, my teeth chattering like broken glass. As my hands flung every which was, my chest rose and fell with each sharp intake.

When the argument had been left lingering in the air, we both parted ways. Her footsteps were sharp and loud, quite the opposite of mine, which were weary and small. It took time, before I had slammed the door shut. Anger seeping right to the brim of my fingers, released on the old splintering wood.

So, I went ahead and drew a mission of a protest in my head, but it was funny how it had vanished once my Mom had dragged me out of the house in God knows what.

Another meeting, followed by the second, trailing by the third and I found my self sick of my new life.

I never had the privilege of choosing my outfit anymore. I didn’t know what my mom dressed me in, not that I minded, it’s just something else I’ve been robbed of. Then I didn’t know where I was, all the time. The old rusted pice of metal wasn’t much help as it created an even louder echo then the ground. So I would always find my steps to be slow, now I knew where the phrase 'slower then molasses’ came from.

I obviously don’t have the freedom anymore. Freedom of going out, without my mother linking her arm through mine. I know I should be thankful, and I am, but the constant reminder was… quite agitating.

Hearing stuff was a challenge. I had to listen carefully, albeit living in a City where night fall doesn’t mean sleep was quite… challenging. New York was, in many ways different. From on sight muggers to honking car crashes.

I became a drag, or more like extra luggage. Linking arms with mother became a new habit. Hearing her comforting words became a must, as the soft caresses here and there were quite mandatory. What was left of my independent self now became the most dependent human to live.

Food would be shoved down my throaty at times, it’s like they forget I’m blind not paralyzed- which at times I wish I was instead of blind.- mothers friends would ask for advise between this dress and that dress only to realize who they were talking to.

It was a very different experience. Ties with friends became loose. As non of them knew what to do when all we use to do was watch movies and go shopping. Guess their true colors became vivid.

Non the less, the sessions continued. Week would follow by another week, as those weeks would turn to months. Each Friday of every month would be the most dreaded day to come.

Sessions with Harry Mon became my worst nightmare. His voice echoes in my ear drums at night after every session, that I just came to accept everything he says. I even opened up a few at some point.

But this time, I was sick of it. I just had enough. Mothers car came to a sudden halt as she parked in one of the spots, her car door opened, before she came skidding next to mine. Helping me from around the seat belt and on my own two feet.

“Take care, dear.” She patted my back once she had walked me to the steps. The warmth of her palm had left a haunting reminder of what I would do later on.

But I had to, going inside was like accepting defeat. But after a few minutes, the same doors to Hell had opened up and I walked across the street, with help from the rod between my fingers and the pedestrians that helped with directions.

Like that, I found my self dragging my heavy feet over to the library. The same library I would come to when I had homework. Back in the day when I would attend collage to- where I wanted to master in nursery school. Such a dream… such a dream that was shattered with the blink of an eye.

The place was quite. Obviously.

And I strolled around, from memory, I found the table at the edge of the library, the one that no one ever comes near.

So I sat, and sat, and sat.

By the end of the day- a reminder of my watch- I made my way back to the therapy building and stood before the double glass doors.

Mother never found out, but the smile that I sported that one night, had given her the wrong idea. As she would gush on and on about how I was finally becoming my old self.

My old self… the person I didn’t even recognize anymore.

So months would pass, and I found my self in the same library. I would go around the place, crane clanking to the carpeted floor and my fingers skimming the spines of each bibliography. I would act like my old self. The one who would grab chunks of books and take them home. I would also listen, people sure told a great deal of stories as kids ran around with their mothers hushing them to sit, as some decent teenagers went ahead to volunteer for reading time. What was once 'Friday Hell’ now became my paradise. I looked forward to Friday more then I would have liked to admit.

It was the only day where I wouldn’t be babied down to a rag doll. Where there was no 'Do this and do that,’ followed by 'Oh- dear. I forgot your blind…’ Friday, was my paradise.

My smiles had spread around false hope. Father worked less now, his old body taking a toll on him. I didn’t expect less. If anything, I felt so bad of having him worry so much for something I could have prevented. Brother on the other hand… was a loss cause. He worked for Mr. Stark, brother wouldn’t specify exactly what he does… but knowing him he probably cleans the toilets. If that didn’t break my spirit try adding his girlfriend of three years who he was about to engage had dropped him like last months hand bag. All because he was working for his little poor sister, and not paying her debt.

He pulled through tho. Some Friday’s he would drive me. His tone had changed, now holding pity and sorrow. Something I was scared of for weeks now. Non the less, mother and brother contributed all their time to work. Father now works half time, instead spending his free hours with me.

Another reason why I now look forward to Friday. On normal days, it would be hard to find time to my self as mother brother and father would be seen with me. The only time they would leave me alone was when I wanted to use the washroom.

Friday strolled around, the start of November already piling chunks of ice on the streets. And I found my self sitting on 'my’ chair. A few days back my brother had brought a new phone, the app 'audio books’ already installed. So I listened to books with the help of Siri. Something I was quite… thankful for… Save that for thanksgiving dinner.

Listening to book, after book, every Friday was my new hobby. My table at the library with my chair, on every Friday became my ritual.

Until it all changed again.

It was another Friday where brother had the pleasure of driving me to work, his corny jokes never faltered to sketch a grin over my face. Then he walked me over to the therapy building. His hands securely wrapped around my shoulder.

“I’m so happy your doing good.” He had uttered, I knew he was shaking, just by the way his words vibrated from around his lips. “It’s nice to know your patient until I can come up with the money.” Then he dropped down and kissed my head. His warm lips left a tingling sensation over the skin of my skull. The roots of my hair standing for a bit at the new form of affection.

The guilt for skipping those lesson for almost six months had started to bubble within my stomach. The way my palms became moist, to the way my eyes shifted from side to side even when I saw pitch black.

So I waved. Then went in, and thought. What would happen if I just go this one meeting. It would be fine, surly it would. Then breaking my ritual, and going back home with a heavy head just didn’t sound quite appealing. Plus this past week was even worse then ever. But each day I tugged through chanting 'Friday, Friday, Friday…’ only for brother to slip the lid of my lies.

But I bolted out of the therapy. Right across the streets which I just so happen to have memorized by each step of my foot. Counting until I had felt the raw glass between my mittens and fingers. So I shuffled in, hearing more noise then any other day. It was weird, but then again, schools sometimes brings their students to start learning from outside sources- stuff where google or answers.com weren’t involved.

Either way, my legs- as if a mind of their own had dragged them selfs over to the table I had claimed as mine. Pulling out my headphones and phone, I went ahead to fix out my bag before hard and long strides of feet came crashing into one of the metal rods of my chair, he must have been wearing heavy combat boots, or just thick boots in general. His grunts must have been his way or apologizing. Because then his ruthless steps had followed in front of me in the chair.

I was annoyed. From all of the place in the library he just so happened to sit across from me. Why? I didn’t know. So, his presence was something new. I didn’t need heed him much thought, instead I continued to do my normal Friday ritual.

When my phones interrupted the narrator of my new book, I knew it was time to leave. So I stood up, wrapping my scarf around my neck, followed by buttoning my jacket and pulling my tote bag with everything I had in hand.

“Good bye.” I whispered softly. It was only something nice. It’s not like I knew much of the man… or so I hoped he was a he.

A gruff 'hmm’ and it was quite again. So I walked away. Crane in hand and a smile plastered over my face.

When my brother picked me up, he talked about how he was almost half way through our goal. Then he went ahead and talked about the new slang, something I was deprived of. His sentences were more enjoyable. If I didn’t know any better I would say Mr. Stark had promoted my brother. But I didn’t ask… I didn’t say much, because the mystery man in my meeting had taken up my mind.

Even during lunch on early Monday afternoon where his presence invaded my mind. Which then followed by late Tuesday brunch. The lingering thoughts didn’t falter, as dreams evaded my mind on late Wednesday night. Thursday was spent high tailing it around the city with mother as she entered and exited each shop adjacent to one another. And Friday afternoon was then spent in the library.

So, clutching my fingers around my phone, I entered the double glass doors of the library. Walking the same counted steps I ended up next to my chair. But the presence of the same man haunted the chair. His noiseless grunts and silent murmurs could be herd a mile a minute. As he muttered incoherent sentences about 'Steve said this,’ And 'Steve said that.’

“Could I please sit here…?” My voice was frail, softly worded and lost between the air conditions obnoxious sound.

The same grunt had emitted from the depths of his throat. “Hmm…”

So I sat. It was awkward. Because for some reason I felt his eyes on me. He knew I was blind, the color around my pupils had washed around to a faded grey, with my cane at hand. So brushing off that weird feeling, I unclipped ny jacket and placed it behind my chair, unwrapping my scarf and scrawling it around in my tote bag- which then followed by being set next to my feet. Phone in hand I went about to whispering in the mic area with Siri.

The narrators words had almost lulled me to sleep. After seven months this became such a routine that it was second nature. So, what seemed like eons, my phone timer had went off. And just like any other day, I stood up, and fixed my jacket and scarf, grabbed my back and cane.

“Good bye…” The same whisper had left from between my lips. His usual grunts as my reply and I left.

This just might be a good different… I don’t know though… I don’t know.

A/N:

English is my 2nd language. Please excuse any mistake an if there’s is a Beta here and want some to help me… please tell me.

🙃

Tags Open:

fasole-dulce

Have some pretty for your dash. I hope this sweet bean is doing ok today.

dariaziablik-deactivated2018090

The meansassiest say-it-again-I-dare-you expression.

aiuchihashadow

Bucky is life ❤️❤️❤️

therealjamesbarnes-deactivated2

If trump gets elected, I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.

emmaplum-blog

Not like you have much of a choice.

vibraniumfist

Impulse (Part 4)

An A/B/O AU where Bucky and you bicker endlessly.

Type: Reader Insert

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

This Installation: Bucky snaps.

Word Count: 1828

Warnings: smut, snark

A/N: I rewrote this like 3 times & I’m still not overly fond of how this smut turned out. I like my other works better. Either way, GEN FINISHED HER PAPER! Go send her love over here.

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

It had only been three hours since the team left for a week-long mission, leaving only you and Bucky behind. You were about halfway through your heat, and Bucky believed he risked too much by working out in the field too soon. Therefore, the only two inhabitants the entire building were the two of you. Nobody liked that.

That was how you ended up retiring to your room. Dealing with your cramps, your horniness, and all the glories of heat was easier with sleep. However, around one in the morning, you awoke feeling fully rested and exceptionally irritated. A growl sounded from your stomach, so you climbed off your mattress. After throwing on your previously discarded clothes and wiping the sweat from your face, you stalked to the dimly lit kitchen.

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fictionalplayground

Never Say Never pt.12.5: Who’s Your Omega?

A/B/O Dynamics

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Warning: light smut, NSFW

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Just a bonus before the last part of the series. Sorry if it’s not that great, but it was something new that I had to try writing about.

Heads Up: @ackles-got-snackles @angelpeachamber @alittlewerewolfgirl @alphaabucky @amazing-fandom-freak @anitavalija @bro-the-avengers @boom-boombang @bxtchybrie @cassiopeiassky @c-maximoffs @chisatowa @cxffeeshxpsoundtrack @deanskitten @harleyqueen7 @harleyscheekheart @heavenforebid-captain @heismyhunter @fairysquaddmother @fandomtainment @florenceivy @iamwarrenspeace @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x @i-had-a-life-once @i-lost-my-shoe-down-a-drain @justarandombanana @luciesvg @missallpony1234 @misspadfoot02 @miss-mcbotty @nopevilleluas @realsebstantrash @reninwonderland0 @sammedrano @seirensou @sgt-jbb-107 @supernatural-fanfic @thatwawkwardtinyperson @thecynicalnerd @the-girl-with-no-plan @thisisthelilith @waywardimpalawriter @yourfilthyundeadmaggot

After finally getting the other omega smell off of Bucky, you thought about remarking him yourself. It wasn’t somethings omegas usually did but you figured, if Bucky had to remark you after Wilcox, then you had to remark him after…what’s-her-name. Bucky laid spread out on your bed and talked about the frustrating mission that he had come back from. Once you had decided to remark your alpha, you climbed on top and straddled him. Bucky trailed off what he was saying and stared at you in confusion.

“Keep going, I was listening,” you assured him then took off your shirt.

“I…uh…I almost got shot…” Bucky stuttered while watching you get undressed. Bucky’s eyes widened when your breasts bounced lightly as you moved.

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emmaplum-blog

YES.

howlingbarnes

My Type - Bucky (END)

Summary - Girl’s night quickly turns into Natasha playing matchmaker with you as her victim. She’s been trying to hook you up with someone for a while, will she succeed when she starts suggesting the Avengers?

A/N - This part is totally different than the others. I have the feeling that this didn’t go precisely how I wanted it to but I really hope you guys like it.

Word Count - 725

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emmaplum-blog

To read at 4:00 AM. so I won't be lonely.

therealjamesbarnes-deactivated2

More prompts.

Pick a prompt or two and one of Sebs characters and send them in to me! Make sure you include any other specifications you want in your story. 1. “Who the fuck are you?” 2. “What happened to ‘not dating anyone for awhile’? Or did that only apply to me?” 3. “What the fuck did you just say?” 4. “Let me get this straight.. Your first time was with a girl?” 5. “Don’t start something you’re not willing to finish, sweetheart.” 6. “I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you.” 7. “Oh uh.. is that a new bra?” 8. “I don’t think you’re all that innocent, doll.” 9. “You like what you see?” 10. “Why do you get so flustered around me?” 11. “What do you mean you’re still a virgin?” 12. “You’ve really never thought about sleeping with me?” 13. “I had a really… weird dream about you..” 14. “I’m really good with my hands.” 15. “Why is your mind always in the gutter?” 16. “If you want, I can give you a massage. I’m pretty good at it.” 17. “Well, I mean, yeah, I’ve thought about you naked. Is that weird?” 18. “You’re pretty cute when you blush.” 19. “So, clear this up for me.. handcuffs: yes or no?” 20. “Is it weird that I’m slightly aroused right now?” 21. “What do you mean friends can’t casually make out? I thought that was a thing nowadays.” 22. “You’re just drunk, you don’t really mean that.” 23. “I would never have the guts to say this to you sober, but…” 24. “Can we pretend that never happened?” 25. “Oh yeah, I’d totally date you.” 26. “You pretend that you hate me, but I know deep down that you want me.” 27. “You look fuckin’ hot.” 28. “Knock before I come in? I totally knocked! You just didn’t hear me.” 29. “Remember that time we almost kissed?” 30. “We should just marry each other, save ourselves a lot of trouble..”

soldierplum

8 FOLLOWERS!

YOU GUYS! IM 8 FOLLOWERS AWAY FROM MY 300!!!! It’s legit 1:59 Am, And I just uploaded 2 new drabbles, I was checking the activity and I saw I’m 292 Followers in!!!!

THIS IS SO COOL!!!!!

JUST

FOLLOWERS

!!!!

EDIT: 2:49 AM

296 FOLLOWERS!!!!!!

soldierplum

EDIT: 3:12 AM

OMG GUYS IM 299!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ONE FUCKING MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

soldierplum

Simply A Gentleman

“Shit, are you bleeding?”

Simply A Gentleman

James was many things. Handsome, graceful, quite, an introvert, kept to himself, didn’t talk unless he had to, a simple gentleman. So when he spotted a red stain beside him over the couch once his fellow Tech avenger had gone up to the bathroom complaining her stomach was hurting, he was concerned. Because he had no fucking clue what the hell was happening.

“Shit, are you bleeding?” He hollered, the girl hadn’t even stepped foot out the living compound when his voice, ever so elegantly made its way to her ear.

She stood frozen, afraid if what he said was true, and if so she had just stained Tony’s million dollar couche cushion.

“Crap, Doll your on your period.” Bucky concluded, pointing to the stain beside him. He had finally connected the dots. Realization washing over him, he stood up and instantly flipped the cushion. “Tony’s gonna kill you.” He stated, moving over to her fragile form. “Let’s take you upstairs.” Bucky murmured softly, as he pushed her in front of him and kept behind her to block the scarlet stain.

She still didn’t say anything. What could she say? Wearing white cotton shorts and a tank top side had its perks for being comfortable in, but what she wasn’t expecting was Mother Nature knocking her eggs early tonight.

“I’m sorry,” She finally uttered, her hands fumbled with the hem of her tank, her hair in a messy bun but streaks slithered out to frame her cheekbones.

“It’s fine,” Bucky nodded. It was the least he could do to her, she had helped him in so many ways he couldn’t even count. Taking her to his bathroom was not even considered helping the poor girl. “Take a shower, I’ll get you something to wear.” He instructed once they entered Bucky’s room. He locked it, rummaging around his closet for his slim fits. While the girl went in his bathroom, the sound of running water filled the void in his room.

After a few minutes, he knocked on the bathroom door. His old shorts that don’t even fit him with it’s matching navy Henley shirt in his giving hands. “Sweetheart, wear these…” His voice was smooth, like he was afraid of what she would think of his proposal. The team had made fun of them being too close, albeit the platinum haired man was beyond happy Bucky was conversing with a female.

Non the less, she opened the door with a towel wrapped around her body, “Bucky, I need a pad… and… never mind I’ll get it myself.” She trailed uncertain after receiving a worried look from the brunet. He still didn’t understand all that female products.

“No,” Bucky abruptly answered, “Just show me a picture of what it looks, you go sit on the toilet.” He suggested, trying to push her back in the confined bathroom.

“It’s fine,” She answered. Taking his cloths from his hands, “I’m going to change in my room.” She stood on her tippy toes, then reached for his stubbly cheek. “Good night Bucky.”

“Wait, why are you taking my cloths then?”

soldierplum

Family Night

“I beat you at Mario Kart and now you’re banishing me to the couch for the night?”

Family Night

“Becca, I’m the king of Mario Kart-” Bucky answered pride seeping with every word he let slip from between his chapped lips.

“Daddy is a king!” Rebecca announced excitedly watching as her dad let the remote down over the coffee table and let his hands cross behind his head.

“Yeah he is!” Bucky mumbled happily, only to receive a remote thrown at him. He wasn’t expecting it, seeing as he had his eyes closed and was basking in the feeling of winning yet another Mario kart game. “What was that for?” Bucky mumbled, rubbing his stomach. His wife sitting beside him, but their daughter in between the two adults.

“Well, I just so happen to be the queen of Mario Kart, so, let’s see who’s the best.”

And like that, the man found himself smiling from ear to ear. His daughter jumped over the couch happy her mother had joined their father and daughter game night. Her mom would have always left the two to bond, but apparently her skills were being questions at Mario Kart since James thought he was the “king” of the game.

Non the less, Rebecca found her self latching herself to her dads neck, as she grabbed him down to her side. She was a giggling mess, while her dad kissed her cheek waiting for his wife to choose a character.

“Princess peach?” Bucky asked, questioning his wife, “She’s like the worst character.” Bucky mumbled to himself. As he picked Mario just to irk his wife. He shot her a smug look. While she blushed and slapped his metal shoulder, Picking Mario just to prove that he always saved Princess peach was very “smooth’ in his book.

"Rebecca, who’s side are you on?” Bucky asked, while the screen flashed with a countdown.

“Mommy!” Becca jumped over to her moms neck, smooching her cheek. Both girls laughed at Bucky’s expression. His daughter was almost always on his side. Considering he was always the fun parent, who always said yes to anything.

“We need to make a boy,” Bucky mumbled under his breath as he got ready to jumpstart his Kart.

It was all fun and games until Bucky dropped a bomb over his wife’s pink Kart, causing her to be last from the lack of regeneration span. Buchanan grinned, Mario making it to the finish line first in record time.

“Told you I was king.” Bucky bragged. Cracking his fingers, watching as his wife shoved the remote controller his way.

“Well, King Bucky, let’s see how the couch treats you tonight.” His wife angrily pushed, grabbing her daughter over her waist. Pushing the coco hair behind her daughters ear. The girl was well past her bed time, Becca’s head rested over her moment shoulder as the two adults bickered back and forth.

“What!” Bucky asked disbelief written over his features. He stood up too, wanting to understand his wife’s logic in this. The screen left unnoticed as the list of winners was plastered over the flat screen.

“Your sleeping on the couch tonight.” She answered simply. Turning around to walk back to her room.

“I beat you at Mario Kart and now you’re banishing me to the couch for the night?” Bucky asked disbelief laced with every word that was chocked out from his throat.

"Yes-”

“What!”

“Keep your voice down, your daughter is asleep.”

“Doll,” Bucky whined, seeing as she wasn’t answering him and walking to his daughters room. Trailing behind his wife.

“Shush,”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky cried, “Doll face,”

“I said Shush!”

“Doll,”

soldierplum

Kids Day

“Let me Buy you a drink"

Kids Day

“Daddy, can you buy me an ice cream?” Becca asked softly, as she tugged on her dads metal plates his navy jacket pushed up a little over his wrist. He knelt down, stopping in his tracks just to pick up his daughter.

“Anything for you, princess.” He voiced. His lips found her cheek, while she squirmed and giggled trying to push his face away from her.

“Can I buy one?” Willow asked, pushing her blond hair behind her ear as she fisted Bucky’s shirt trying gain her uncles attention.

“Of course, willow.” Bucky answered, placing his palm over her head full of hair. “What about you, Howard?” Bucky asked, turning around to find Tony’s kid looking around uninterested.

“I’m good,” He answered, Looking at Bucky.

“I want mint!” Riley answered. Jumping around trying to get Bucky to pick him up. Which worked, because he let his daughter down just to pick up Sam’s son. Who had wrapped his frail arms around Bucky’s neck, jumping around in his arms trying to get Bucky to walk faster.

“Daddy,” Becca whined, pulling her dads dark navy blue jeans. “Pick me up.” She cried, pushing her messy curly cinnamon hair behind her ear. “Pick me up!” She changed, her sobs escaping between her small plump lips. She was always jealous of Sam’s son. Bucky never understood why, but chalked it up to her wanting her dads full attention. So Bucky bent down to pick his princess on his other side. Keeping track of Tony’s and Steve’s kids while he walked through the bustling mall.

After arriving at the small store, he let down both his kid and Sam’s son. Watching as Willow jumped around excitedly running to each glass presentation admiring the ice creams color. Bucky saw so much of his friend, Steve in her.

His gaze then fell to Tony’s kid, Howard, who was walking around while looking at all the flavors with Sam’s kid, Riley pushing around a shy Becca.

“Hurry up, we need to be back before three.” Bucky grumbled. He had offered to take care of his daughter today, seeing as he hadn’t been much home lately because of all the missions. Only to have Sam’s kid Riley beg him to spend time with Becca. That only led to Willow to tag along because her best friend Becca was going somewhere. Bucky didn’t expect much, they spend every day together, sometimes sleeping at each others houses just because. The last kid left was Tony’s. James didn’t want to be mean and leave him out, so he offered to take the kid to whatever store he was interested in.

“Daddy, I want that!” Becca’s voice broke her dads train of thought, as he walked over to her and Riley. “I want the pineapple.”

“Alright,” Bucky answered, filling her cone with that flavor. After handing her the frozen waffle, she ran to the cash register. “Riley?” Buchanan asked, eyeing the small brunet. “What do you want?”

“I’ll take cherry ” like that, the former assassin handed the small kid his ice cream. Watching as he ran over to Becca smiling like crazy. Willow followed next, albeit she filled her own cone, standing next to Becca who was giggling from something Willow said. “Howard, what’s going on?” Bucky asked as he walked over to the kid beside the plain vanilla section. Bucky eyes the cream, then the kid who stood with dignity and power.

“I don’t want anything.” He answered truthfully. “I didn’t bring money-”

“You don’t have to-”

“Dad said never let anyone pay for you-”

“I’m not just anyone, Howard, pick one.” The small kid turned around uncertain, hope encrypted into his big doe like pupils.

“Really?” Howard asked, his fists coming out of his jean pockets. And at that moment, Bucky placed the last puzzle in place. Howard never asked for anything during their trip in the mall for the last hour because he didn’t bring his dads money.

“Yes.” Like that the kid ran to the strawberry and helped himself to a cone full of strawberry infused with rich vanilla.

“That would be twelve dollars sir.” The cashier answered, ringing up a receipt. Bucky nodded then grabbed his wallet from his back pocket. After paying and ushering the kids out of the mall, he found Howard trailing behind with a smile plastered over his face.

“Come over here,” Bucky trailed, ushering Tony’s kid to come over to him. He found the small kid running into James waiting arms.

“Can we go to the movies?” Howard asked, pointing to the AMC in the mall. Bucky nodded, hopeful that he wouldn’t have to handle mini avengers taking down the mall anymore. All he had to do was pay for them to watch a movie while he straps then to a chair.

“Let’s go watch Trolls…” Bucky suggested, grabbing the kids and wrangling them up the Elevator. He watched, as the new future ran around carelessly. And he found himself smiling, because he could finally relax.

Daughter, wife, kids, friends. It’s finally the end, and he was beyond happy for all that.

“Daddy, I want popcorn…” Becca asked, pulling her dads shirt again, asking for his attention.

“Let me Buy you a drink, instead.” Bucky worriedly suggested. Last time his girl had popcorn she chocked with every fifth corn. He didn’t know how that was possible, but all he limited her to was candy and a drink.

“I want water,” Howard piped.

“Popcorn,” Riley said, his hands up in the air as he smiled happily throwing away his empty ice cream.

“Me too,” Willow pushed past Howard to get to Bucky’s ear shot.

“Alright…” Bucky grumbled, gathering all the requested drinks and food into the theater room while the kids all huddled in one row. “Pass them down,” Bucky grumbled, handing the long line of kids their food. Once the light dimmed down and the big screen rolled, he shifted in his seat and closed his eyes. Napping wouldn’t hurt, would it…?

Riley: Male, Sam’s kid. James after Sam’s deceased friend from the division.

Howard: Male, Tony’s kid. Names after Tony’s father.

Willow: Female, Steve’s kid. Names after Bucky’s mother.

Becca: Female, Bucky’s kid. Named after Bucky’s sister.