Bucky Barnes x Fanfiction
“ I’ve been spending the last eight months.
Thinking all love ever does is break, burn, and end.
But on a Wednesday in a cafe, I watched it begin again.
I’ll be honest some nights I wish I could say I look forward to the nightmares that ultimately always pay me a visit. At least then I could say I went to sleep. If I close my eyes and hear nothing apart from my own thoughts, then I know I am in for a long night. For me silence creates this deafening noise that causes my ears to ring. I easily get overwhelmed by dead silence in the still of night.
In those moments my body goes on high alert, my heart rate and breath becomes accelerated like they are each in a race competing to see which can go the fastest. For some I know it’s the opposite, the quiet void that brings serenity and calmness most people typically crave.
I use to think of it as a tranquil experience. To be able to slowly wind down from the activity of the day, anticipating the rush of tomorrow. Only now when the sun goes down I become anxious and weary. Two things I am to constantly keep a lid on. If not those emotions forces me to hyper fixate on every normal aspect in my life I can’t seem to do right anymore. Like falling the fuck asleep.
When I realized I was just staring back into my eyelids I admitted defeat. No longer unable to do one innately mundane task I thought it was best to just keep myself occupied. Walking over to my safe I pulled out what was practically a high scale police scanner. With the swipe of the hand it provided an all access base catalog of wanted criminals for high profile cases that ran twenty four seven. Sam would most definitely blow a gasket if he knew I still had my hands on it. I can almost see it now, and the image actually makes me smile at the thought.
Technically I am not authorized to use it on my own, and even then I still would have to wait for clearance. But, when have I ever been good at following orders? Having sitting with it for a while and reading through the profiles I was convinced the information alone was good material to knock me out. Just as I was about to leave well enough alone and keep my nose clean something interesting eventually caught my eye.
I loathe Wednesdays. I hate it with a burning passion I wish the whole day just erases itself from the weekly calendar and as a society we collectively decide to banish it. To forget its mere existence would be grand. Sincerely thoughts from a woman who’s heart that just got stomped on.
Six weeks ago I would call my declaration of hate absolutely ridiculous. Though I suppose getting dumped on a Wednesday stained itself in my world indefinitely. What is also in my world was heartbreak. Albeit, something I will never get use to, but it happens to the best of us therefor life simply has to carry on. After my boyfriend of three years decided to break up with me in the very same park he promised to propose to me my Wednesdays just have not been the same. Since then I am convinced they are jinxed.
Every other day felt brand new like I was beginning to feel whole again. I could laugh without crying, the ache finally left my body, hell I sang Celine Dion at a karaoke bar! The lie that I had been telling people I was fine I actually was beginning to believe it to come true.
My days felt good, that was until Wednesday would roll around. In the morning I was on top of the world I didn’t think about my ex anymore. It was like it happened at the snap of the finger. Sean was starting to become a distant memory. That was until nightfall.
Oh, at night I was in fact not walking on sunshine. I would cry until I couldn’t feel air go into my lungs. The idea of eating food made me nauseated. There was this strange haze of numbness that would engulf me. It was as if my brain was programmed to punish me. I could only reminisce on the best parts of our relationship which again would reduce me to tears. For hours I would carry around this urgency to pick up my phone and call him. These breakdowns wouldn’t happen any other day except. . . you guessed it Wednesday.
I told myself tonight had to be different. I needed an escape from my own mental torment. I didn’t want to burden anyone that I knew with this problem. So I figured I do it best on my own.
Not many places were open around this hour of the night apart from a handful of establishments. I knew the second my stomach rumbled I would follow my gut, no pun intended. Not far from where I lived was a Donut shop that stayed open all hours of the day. Throwing on some jeans, and my old college sweatshirt I dressed myself in a hurry not necessarily dressing for the catwalk. I grabbed only my card holder and keys. I purposely decided to leave my phone, because my iPhone keeps recommending that I “Send message to Sean”. For the first time stepping foot outside of my townhome this night would finally be just what I needed.
The smell of stale sugary doughnuts and strong coffee bore into my nostrils making me curious as to how customers were lapping it up so eagerly. I sat in a booth with my back to the door near this incessant sound of a bell that hung above the door that constantly chimed indicating people were coming and going. In a few hours from now day would break, but you wouldn’t think that from the bustling clientele.
A fracture of myself found solace knowing that I wasn’t the only nocturnal person. A blessing and a curse, perfect for stakeouts in situations like this one. But sometimes it was the only time I could feel anything. Whether it was anger or sadness I naturally transported myself to exist back on my timeline almost like a daydream. Sometimes when life would show that it can be forgiving, I got to relive and be apart of my fondest memories.
I easily shake that sentiment, returning to the atmosphere around me. I remain seated in my booth planted almost like a wallflower, merely observing while trying to blend in. Honestly, I am not sure if I’m good at playing that part of civilian. I just keep hovering over my untouched cup of coffee hoping that no one recognizes me. For a second I thought a couple of the waitresses did, because they kept fighting each other over who got to come over to ask if I needed anything else.
If they didn’t I probably looked suspicious for just sitting here not even so much as taking a sip or I just looked like I didn’t know how to make a decent cup of joe. Checking the watch on my wrist as well as the one on the wall to make sure they lined up. The target in question would be in less than five hours sharp. At least supposedly, this was a shop he frequents the most around the same time four days out of the week. All I had to do was wait. I just didn’t know how much more of that damn bell I could take.
Not much was happening, just a painful yellow light lit up the joint, muddle chattering here and there and on the television ahead of me some gameshow was on. For a second there I felt like I could close my eyes just for a little while. I tested that theory out quietly asking for a tiny bit of peace. Clearly I am not yet deserving, because my ears attuned to the hell breaking loose at the register.
“If I knew how to fix it lady I would take my tech skills elsewhere. For the third time IT IS BROKEN!” Turning my head my eyes landed on a man behind the counter casting a look of exhaustion over to the petite raven haired woman standing on the opposite side of him. Normally I am one to keep my head down and mind my own business. Something about this conversation in particular just sparks my curiosity.
“Sir all I have on me are cards. Please can we just try it one more time. I swear I’m not trying to be the bane of your existence.” I could tell from the woman’s tone that she was being truthful by not wanting to be a thorn in his side. She sounded desperate for lack of better words.
“Look lady either can pay or you can’t. This here isn’t a soup kitchen, like life nothing in here is free.” He argued. For a moment she stared back at him silently I assume in disbelief. Either she was use to getting her way or she wasn’t use to assholes like Sal Beckett.
Hearing her suck in a deep breath. “You know I use to come here all the time. I know how busy this place gets, its nonstop in here. Which is great but equally tiring I am sure. So you have probably been on your feet for quite sometime, but I hope you know that this is not an excuse to be a dick to customers!” Her tone went from soft and understanding to pissed off.
From the times I have come in here this was the first time I have seen Sal become tongue tied.
“Now would you be so kind as to try it again?” I could tell this was one was feisty little thing. What I couldn’t figure anymore was who needed rescuing. I wasn’t even sure why I got up from my seat and asserted myself in the situation. Clearly she could handle her own, that is until Sal threatened to kick her out. Sighing to myself I wasn’t sure if this was a good or bad idea. As always I made the less practical decision.
Deeply embarrassed, very much aggravated , and practically starved. I stood there feeling a combination of awkward and triumphant for at least standing my ground. I would be reading too much into it to say he had an agenda against me, because the couple before me paid with a credit card! The card reader could not have broken that fast. I was ready to say fuck it and return home when the unexpected happened.
To my surprise some guy appeared beside me sliding a twenty across the countertop. I turn my face to look at him, but he doesn’t even break eye contact with his Andrew Jackson. He only utters two words. “Problem solved.” I could barely spit out a thank you before he quickly backed away.
I was stunned by the kind gesture from this stranger and always because I am still human I couldn't help but notice that he wasn’t born he was sculpted and carved. Clearly sent down to exist amongst us mere mortals to make average looking men look inferior.
“Do you want your pastries or not?” The ass guffaws as he scoots my bag closer to me. I happily snatch up my treats giving him my best “fuck you, have a nice day smile”.
Turning around I decided that my night could either end here or I could sit inside a little longer. Relishing in my tiny victory. I walked down the aisle looking for a clean booth to sit in when I noticed I was about to pass him again.
“You know you just paid twenty bucks for three pastries?” It feels like an eternity passes without a response. “ Thank you.” I finally manage. I mean I was talking to the back of his head, I suppose the least he could do was turn around.
After a beat he finally acknowledged that I was not a figment of his imagination. “It was nothing.”
“To some people yeah, but nice people are rare nowadays.” It must have been the way I said it or the guy was batshit crazy. But that compliment earned me laughter. Walking around the other side of the seat to get a better look at him. My mom would be mortified, true crime podcast enthusiast however would be on the edge of their seat knowing that I was going up to a man I didn’t know.
“I’m sorry I seemed to have offended you?” I asked only sarcastically.
“On the contrary not at all.” He rasped out quickly. I blinked back my confusion as we give each other the strangest stare down. Though he was first to falter the longer he looked at me. I couldn’t tell he if was shy or sadthat I so much as looked at him. It was almost as if he was trying to hide his face.
I couldn’t understand why, clearly he must see his face every morning. Though I briefly played with the notion that perhaps he was just plain weird. I mean from my observations he was tending to a full cup of black coffee. He sat alone wearing a leather jacket and leather gloves I might add. Yeah, on second thought I decided to keep with the narrative that he was a red flag.
“Well okay, umm enjoy.” I motioned my hands out fumbling over what to say next when my bag toppled out of my hands. My bad luck was on a roll tonight as I watched my doughnuts land on the ground.
I bent down and retrieved two of them the other rolled past me near his boots. He looked over at me before glancing down and was visibly hesitant to retrieve it. It wasn’t like I was going to eat them, I just wasn’t one to litter. His hand hovered over my sticky pastry before sticking the tips of his finger in his mouth. Tugging at his gloved hand with his teeth he pulled it off. The way he performed such a simple act looked like sex on him. Leaning down once more I watched in disbelief as metal fingers wrapped around it.
Trying to pass it back to her to either discard it or it dust it off for later, it’s not my business what she does with it. I’m holding it out her when I noticed her wild eyes staring at my hand.
Placing it on the saucer where my mug is I am quick to slide my glove back on. I am not even sure what reaction I would receive next. Is she terrified? Is she disgusted by who I am? Or is she going to milk the shit out this encounter? God I hope it’s one of the first two.
I’m surprised a piece of me even cares what she thinks. She’s just another pretty face in the crowd. Mentally kicking myself did I just call her pretty? And did I compare her to any other woman, because if I did which I did not, the woman before me whose huge brown eyes that were framed with long lashes fanning out from top to bottom. With a face that only shows up in your dreams. She was a knock out.
Any minute I expected her to go off like a time bomb, they always do. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably waiting for it to happen. Interestingly enough it never does.
“I’m sorry,” she says as she leans over and grabs the doughnut throwing it in her paper bag.”With a sad expression on her face. “ I just really wanted to eat that.” she pouts before laughing. For a minute I believe it’s genuine.
“Honestly?” I lean forward.
“Yeah?” Her voice is breathy.
“That looked absolutely disgusting.” I can’t even keep a straight face. “Was that sap on top?” I inquired, actually intrigued by how horrible I assumed it taste.
Her mouth parts open and I do my best not to notice that her top and bottom lips are perfectly plump. “Now you’re just throwing punches below the belt. The lemon honey doughnuts are my favorite!” She defends.
My face contorts. “That sounds diabolical.”
“Yeah well it’s not like I paid for it.” She smirks. What the hell was happening Buck? I asked myself. It almost didn’t feel real that I was having a normal conversation about something relatively simple. It felt strange really. An yet, I was trying my damnedest not to like it.
“And it was money well spent.” My mouth curved upward into a smile. I’m smiling now?
“If you say so.” Her small melodious laugh sounds every bit of like an angel singing a hymn. She’s getting ready to walk away, because what else is there to say? You’re welcome? At the same time I didn’t come here for this. I needed my focus and energy for what was to come.
She was distracting me. It was best this conversation to fizzle out, and for her to walk away. It’s not like it would eat me up for days never knowing her name. So long mystery woman. Moving those toned legs in the opposite direction, voice coming out terse. “What is your name?”
I’m starting to believe that I am really oblivious. How did I not notice before who he was? Recalling from the moment I walked in from weary stares to starstruck glances customers have been fighting the urge to look away from him. Nope not me of course I was the one having banter about doughnuts with a reformed assassin.
“That’s classified information you never know who’s hunting you down nowadays.” I say nervously. If I could slap myself and it be normal I would, the awkwardness was rising up my body like a tide.
“Right.” He looks at me almost as if he’s trying to read me, get a sense of who I am or what the hell I am doing still talking to him. It dawns on me in that moment he is like apart of the Avengers. Gosh he probably thinks I’m going to toss my panties at him any second now. I cringe at idea that he thinks I am in awe by his presence. There’s not much that I know about him, apart from what flashes across the news.
If anything I should feel beside myself with fear to be so close to him. I had been standing there way to long at this point, yet my feet remained grounded. Strangely enough I wasn't scared, there was this seed of curiosity planted inside of me if anything. From our short lived encounter he just seemed like he wants to be left alone. An on that note the mental countdown finally went off and I finally decided to take my leave back to my place.
I nodded my head as a salute of thanks once again, “Have a good night.”
My skin pricked at the slightly husky quality to the sound of his voice when he spoke again. “Would you like to sit down?”
I blink in surprise thinking it is the lack of sleep sending false sounds to my ears. “Right here with you?” The question slipped off my tongue not sounding in a way I had intended it to.
He cast his gaze downwards and his body almost stiffens. From the look of it I either embarrassed him or offended him. “Yeah.” He says. A good yeah I hope. Without another word misspoken I slide in the booth opposite of him.
“You’re free to leave you know that right?” He says not even looking up at me as he finally takes a sip out of his coffee mug. I couldn’t help but keep my eyes glued to his movements. As a dancer teacher you can’t help but zero in on the fluid nature of bodily movements especially a bionic arm, and his are so light if that makes sense.
Setting his coffee down the two of us finally make eye contact. Feeling like I had a horn coming from my forehead I was the first to look away, considering he had just busted me for staring. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude.”
“I don’t really notice it as much anymore.” He answers cooly and I feel like an ass.
I sigh, “It’s just so big.” I felt instant regret soon as I heard how it sounded. His attention quickly snaps up to me as he remained focus on my face. I was almost certain I saw the corners of his mouth tilt up.
“Get your mind out of the gutter.” I groan, slapping both of my hands to cover my face.
“I’m not the one making comments about my girth” He says in his defense. I drop my hands to my lap and I see a slow smile slip across his face. I oddly feel giddy by my ability to make his smile appear again.
“Jodie.” I say as I toss my doughnut bag on the table, giving in.
“Jodie.” He repeats my name, but sounding out every syllable. It shouldn’t make me feel any type of way but it does.
“And what should I call you?” I fire back.
“What do you want to call me?” His eyes drop to regard me. It is hard to discern his playfulness from his serious decorum, because his stoic eye contact is unwavering. However, I do my best not to look measly underneath his intense gaze.
“James.” I say almost proudly. It felt slightly weird putting a name to his face, especially not recognizing who he was at first. He just about recoils at the sound of his name drop. I suck in my bottom lip to bite back laughter.
“You look like you just took a tequila shot.”
“Call me Bucky.” He swiftly says, face still scrunched up.
“Ok Bucky.” I do so in the same way he sounded out my name back to him. Testing it out in my mouth. Jesus, that sounded all kinds of wrong, especially because I don’t know him. An yet that makes it all the more exciting. In my wildest dreams of course.
“Can I be real with you right now Jodie?” I wish he’d stop saying my name like that. Bucky’s tone of voice was this deep, silky, husky whisper that drifted into my ears like honey. Which is now stuck. Because I’m pretty sure after today I will remember it for special purposes.
“Shoot.” I reply, squaring my shoulders to match his still posture.
Bucky smiled to himself but not the kind that indicated joy. Like he was methodically plucking the right words to say, “I’m crap with the small talk.”
Sucking in a deep breath smitten with his honesty I lean forward. “I’ve suffered with social anxiety since probably the day I was born. I’m pretty sure I was too self conscious to even cry in front the nurses.” I poke fun at myself. It becomes easier especially when running a studio full of blunt preteens six days out of the week.
“I use to be good at this.” The look in Bucky’s eyes harden. For the longest second I’m not exactly sure what he is referring to. I raise a quizzical brow.
“Talking.” His jaw tightens and I can tell he’s fighting with the urge to not let his true feelings show.
I smile at him.” You don’t suck so bad.”
“Ha!” He laughs an I can tell it’s genuine by the way he looks shocked at the sound of his own voice. The sad thing is he carefully looks around to make sure no one else did. Like he wants to remain invisible.
Turning his attention back to me his cheeks are slightly rose colored. Holy hell he’s blushing.
“Guess I’ll have to take your word for it Jodie.” He did it again and the shivers that it sent to my body traveled to perimeters that last hummed for my ex. I’m messed up for even reacting to this man I don’t even know. It’s got to be another side effect of my cursed Wednesdays.
My lungs feel like I ran to Siberia and back. I don’t get flustered. Hell I’m trained to feel to opposite. If I keep biting the inside of my jaw I am bound to bite into flesh. Something feels off and I don’t think it’s my boyish charm nor my new acquaintance Jodie. I like that name now.
No, something feels wrong. Jodie looks at me like she senses my paranoia. I see her lift her hand as if to place a calming touch on my arm, but soon rethinks it. She’s wrong if she thinks I would recoil or be angered by her touched. It’s for the better she didn’t because the second she touched me I knew I would be gone and that’s insane to say.
“I am just going to say it but that guy to my left has been throwing daggers at us with his eyes since I sat with you.” She says half jokingly, half worried. A variety of emotions flicker on Jodie’s face and I hate that I indirectly caused it.
I know not to look to where she is wanting me to. If she is right I don’t want whoever this guy is to know I’ve noticed.
“Describe him.” I tell her.
“Ummm well he’s the prick that took my order.” Jodie tells me a little more animated than before.
“Sal?” I say a little too loudly. A fucking rookie mistake, because as soon as he heard the lights in the place went completely black.
