Hey! ✍️ This is such a sweet idea! you really do so much for the oc community 💛💛💛
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“take a seat, we’re gonna be here a while” with bucky barnes? please and thanks! i love your writing btw xoxo
i know this was sent ages ago but i needed to get mi creative juices flowing so im filling this prompt now! thank you for sending this and thank u so much for enjoying my work!!
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Bucky appears in the doorway look grumpy, lumpy, and thoroughly confused. He stuffs his hands in his oversized hoodie and glares at you from the shadows, frown deepening as you catch his eye and grin.
“Good morning,” you sing-song. The stormcloud in the doorway grumbles like thunder.
“It’s two-thirty,” he says, and you just shrug.
Natasha whacks you on the side of the head which hurts like a bitch (not that you’d tell her) and says, “Stop moving.”
“What are you doing?” Bucky asks, sounding wary. He shuffles further into the room with a deeply suspicious squint, trying to see what Natasha is doing on your head. You sit cross-legged at her feet while she works - she’s already sectioned your hair so you’re sure you look a treat with the deformed buns littered over your head. Now she’s got the clippers and is carefully shaving the hair at the nape of your neck, moving up in careful strokes.
“Shaving my head,” you tell Bucky, gesturing to your hair wildly which earns you another slap from Nat. “Duh.”
“Why?” Bucky asks slowly, like you’re dumb, and maybe you are but honestly you’re just so bored. Quarantine sucks, your hair sucks, you’re sick of it getting in your face and in your mouth and being a general pain in your ass. Training is a nightmare with long hair, Steve always sits on it somehow during movie night, and Sam won’t stop bitching about it clogging the drain in the gym showers. This is what’s best for everyone.
“My hair, my choice,” you say, and Nat hums in agreement. “I wanna see what my skull looks like. Don’t you ever wonder that? What if I’ve had a weird shaped head this whole time and never knew.”
“You do have a weird shaped head,” Bucky says, “Don’t need to shave it to figure that out.”
“Rude,” you huff. Under you breath, like an actual child, you mutter, “Your mum’s got a weird shaped head.”
“My mum’s dead,” Bucky says, deadpan. Nat snorts and you grab a chunk of your hair to throw at Bucky, but it just falls uselessly at his feet.
A few beats of silence pass, save for the low buzz of Nat’s clippers. It feels really nice, like every stroke is ten pounds off your shoulders (or scalp, you suppose) and you can’t wait for Nat to be done. She moves onto the next section, kneeling in a ring of your hair on the ground, while Bucky just stands in front of you shuffling from foot to foot like an idiot.
“Take a seat,” you say, gesturing to the floor space in front of you. “We’re gonna be here a while.”
Bucky hesitates for a second. You can hear his metal hand whirring in the pocket of his hoodie like he’s wringing his hands together, but eventually he folds himself down to sit cross-legged in front of you. You smile at him, and he smiles back but it morphs into more of a laugh. His face scrunches up all cute as he looks at you and you can’t help but poke your tongue out at him.
“You look funny,” he says, gesturing to the weird buns Nat’s put your hair in to hold it out of her way.
“That’s rich,” you say, gesturing to his face. He rolls his eyes but he’s still smiling, so you know he’s not really offended. But you’re looking at him now and he does look funny - dark circles under his eyes, red rimmed like he’s been crying or up all night or maybe both. He must’ve been wandering around the compound at two in the morning for a reason, and unless it was to shave his head as well, it probably wasn’t a good one.
He seems happy enough now, sitting on your bedroom floor with you and Nat and the soft hum of the clippers. She’s done one side of your head now, and it feels weird to not have the familiar curtain of hair tucked behind your ear. You reach up to move it only to find nothing there, your fingers brushing against fresh, cropped stubble instead. It feels so different - soft but rough at the same time, scratchy under your fingertips but so good on your scalp. You feel your eyes grow wide as you run your fingers over your new hair again, ignoring Nat’s annoyed huff at your movements.
“You like it?” Bucky asks, smiling at you stupid. A rush of giddy excitement shoots through your chest, spurring you to reach out and grab Bucky’s arm without thinking.
“Feel it,” you say, tugging his arm until his hand leaves his pocket. He looks wildly uncomfortable for a moment before he relents, letting you manoeuvre his flesh hand onto the side of your head.
“Do you want me to cut you?” Nat asks, but she doesn’t sound pissed. In fact, she sounds amused, and that’s never a good sign for you. But you can’t really focus on that when Bucky is now entranced with the feeling of your buzzed head under his fingertips.
He stares wide-eyed as he rubs the side of your head, and you let your eyes flutter closed at the feeling. It’s nice, alright? Bucky’s touch tingles all over your scalp and down your spine, little lightning bolts to follow his moody thunder from before. All trace of his bad mood is gone as he scratches at your buzz, now, making you shiver.
That seems to be the final straw for Natasha, who finishes off the last chunk and clicks the clippers off. The silence startles Bucky and he lets his hand drop, looking up almost guiltily at Nat as she says, “I’m done, I’m going to bed. Have fun, idiots.”
“Thanks Tash,” you say, but you don’t even look at her as she leaves the room. You’re too busy looking at Bucky.
“How’s it look?” you ask, all quiet in your now silent bedroom. Bucky snaps his gaze back from the empty space Nat once took up to you, eyes widening as he takes in the full picture of your middle-of-the-night-breakdown decision.
He swallows, but his voice still sounds hoarse when he says, “Um, good. Looks neat.”
“Neat, huh?” you say, and run your hand over your head. That’s different, for sure. Gone is the length and weight around your shoulders, and when you shake your head like a wet dog you’ve never felt so unencumbered. Bucky laughs at your antics and you grin back, almost breathless, so enamoured with the cool waft of the aircon on your nearly exposed scalp and the absolute lack of anything to get in your way. You say, “Yeah, pretty fucking neat.”
“I liked your long hair,” Bucky says, and you almost frown until he adds, “But I like this, too. Maybe more. It feels nice.”
“Like a tennis ball,” you say, nodding solemnly.
“You’re so fucking stupid,” Bucky says with an eyeroll, but you just grin. You rise onto your knees, crawling into Bucky’s lap before he can say anything and rubbing your head in his face like a deranged cat. He squawks and tries to lean away from you without also toppling over onto his back, and you just laugh. He grips your waist to stabilise you both and you settle a bit, letting your legs loop around his hips and your hands to rest on his shoulders.
“You think it feels nice,” you say, teasing lightly. Bucky makes to shove you off but you clench your thighs and hold on tight, all two-hundred pounds of Bucky no match for your stubborn idiot-streak. “You like it.”
“Said that, didn’t I? Turn your ears on,” Bucky says, but he’s blushing so you know you’ve won.
“You like me,” you say, and you grin, because you finally push Bucky over the line you always love to toe. Teasing Bucky is a sport and you’re the Olympic champion, the Usain Bolt - you win every time. Bucky growls and snaps a hand up to grip the back of your skull. You’re delighted to find his giant hand spans the entirety of the back of your scalp as he holds you in place. He scritches into the short hairs and you’re even more delighted at the feeling that zings down your spine to your cunt almost instantaneously.
“And you like that,” Bucky grins, all sharp teeth and dark eyes because he’s a devil and teasing you just so happens to be his Olympic gold as well. You make a sound almost like a groan, kind of like a purr, and nudge your head back into his hand some more so he keeps touching you like that.
“Don’t like you, though,” you say, breathless now so it doesn’t quite have the same impact. Bucky rocks you backwards, lying you flat so he can crawl on top of you despite the absolute carnage of your old hair littering the carpet and now, probably, all of your clothes. Good thing you won’t be needing those much longer.
“We’ll see about that,” Bucky says, and see about that you most definitely do.
which doctor is callie’s main? which doctor’s personality does bernie like the most? how did Anna get involved with the doctor (and which one?)
Okay, so Callie doesn’t really have a “main” Doctor. She travels with all five modern Doctors, starting with 9 all the way up to 13 (and likely more Doctors that come after as well). But she spent the longest with 11 because of the way the Ponds’ timeline works out
Hmm, that’s a good question. I think Bernie likes different things about different Doctors. She and 9 don’t get along for spoilery reasons but she loves his sarcasm, she loves 10′s passion, 11′s bounciness and how he always tries to make her smile, 12′s fake grumpiness, and how 13 almost always has a smile on her face :)
Anna is Amy’s little sister, so she met 11 the same way Amy did the night of fish fingers and custard. I’m not super solid on her ending just yet but I’m 98% sure she’ll only interact with 11
omg the id thjng popped up on my dash and looks so fun! so, harry potter and mcu. my name is lynn, female (she/her), straight. i’m pale with brown hair and blue eyes. i have light freckles. i like to think i’m nice. i’m usually the one everyone comes to with their problems regardless of if i have experience. i am very talkative and extroverted. i love being around people. i like drawing and reading. i play the violin too! i have been partial to peach or yellow recently. so excited to see it! 💙
It was the most nervous Anabelle had ever felt in her life, and she hadn’t a clue why. It was three hours before Bucky was scheduled to pick her up, and she was frantic.
Her few dresses were strewn about her room, and her sister Connie watched the scene with amusement, trying to get her sister to calm down.
“Anabelle, come on, it’s not that big a deal.” Connie reasons, stifling a laugh at the look on her sisters face.
“Says you, miss I’ve-never-been-on-a-date-ever. Which means you get no say in this.” Anabelle shoots back, hands on her hips as she stared at her to few choices in clothing.
The family couldn’t afford the latest fashions and new clothing every year, especially for Anabelle. This meant her only five options were old and worn out. Typically, she borrowed clothes from Ruth or Madeline, but she had no time for that now.
So she was stuck in her dilemma of which dress to wear. She wanted to look nice, even if she had been hesitant to go on this date. Anabelle couldn’t fathom why she felt the need to impress the man, but she did. And her clothes just weren’t cutting it.
Anabelle groaned and flopped on her bed.
“What am I gonna wear, Con?” Anabelle asked, looking to her five year younger sister.
Anabelle and Connie had always been extremely close, despite the age gap, so Anabelle often found herself spilling all her worries to her younger sister.
“What about the red dress you got for your twenty-first?” Connie suggested.
“Oh my god! I can’t believe I forgot about it!” Anabelle said with excitement as she launched out of bed and into the closet.
She slipped the dress on, relieved to learn it still fit her, even if it was a little tight in the bust. She couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Bucky glancing down at her chest. After all, he wasn’t as much a saint as he pretended to be.
“Help me with my hair?” She asked Connie with doe eyes.
Connie groaned but nodded her head nonetheless. She had always been the best at hair, which in turn meant her mother and sisters constantly were asking for help.
An hour later, Anabelle’s hair was perfectly styled, as per the usual. Her shoes were slipped on over her stockings, and her necklace was clipped in place. She looked stunning, perfect for her date with Bucky.
Which she absolutely did not care about.
A knock on the door sounded throughout the apartment, amplified by her nerves. It was as though that one knock was directly against her skull, rather than the front door. She glanced at the clock.
Six o’clock on the dot.
She took a breath, blowing the air past her lips. She could do this. It was just one date. There was no reason for the butterflies in her stomach. It wasn’t a big deal. Just a date with quite possibly the most attractive man Anabelle had ever met.
She steeled her nerves and walked to the main room of the house, her hand finding the door knob and turning.
“Bucky.”
The man in question was leaning against the outer doorframe, and easy smile on his face.
“Wow.” He said, glancing at her appearance. She looked beautiful.
“Hey, Annie. You ready to go?”
“Don’t call me Annie and I will be.” Anabelle tells him, arching an eyebrow in his direction.
Bucky holds his hands in front of him as a sign of surrender.
“Okay, okay, darlin’,” he says to her. He gives her a lopsided smile, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “But really, you ready to go? I’ve gotta fun night planned for you.”
“Do I get to know any of it? Or am I supposed to just blindly trust you?” Anabelle asked, placing her hands on her hips.
“Blind trust, Annie. What do you think I’m gonna do? Murder you?” Bucky asked in amusement.
Anabelle wasn’t laughing.
Bucky winced. “Okay, no I’m not gonna murder you. Or do anything against your will. I swear.” Bucky tells her seriously, offering his hand as a sort of truce.
Hesitantly, she placed her much smaller hand in his. She let him lead her out of the building and onto the street. There was an awkward silence surrounding them before Bucky cleared his throat and spoke.
“So, Annie—“
“Anabelle.”
“Annie, what do you plan to do?” Bucky asked her.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, all the men are going off to war, I didn’t know if you had any plans on helping, or if you were just gonna stay home.”
“Oh, what so you think since I have a pretty face I’m not gonna do my part?” Anabelle asks hotly.
Bucky sputtered. He wasn’t used to such a fire cracker of a girl. Any other gal he had ever taken out would’ve just giggled and said something along the lines of waiting for a man to come home to her, so she could take care of. They always said what they thought Bucky would want to hear.
“No! Of course not. Uh, you can work. I only meant what you would do, ya know? Some gals are starting to work in the factories, some are being nurses.” Bucky recovered, trying not to show how truly nervous she made him. Like he would ruin the entire date if he said one wrong thing.
“I’m not sure to be honest. It was a struggle convincing my mother and father to let me work at the diner. But they were blessed with more girls than boys and need to money. So they agreed. I’m not sure how readily they’d agree to me helping in the factories or anything of the sort.”
“But if you could? Regardless of what they said? What would you do?”
Anabelle shrugged. “Maybe become a nurse? But their starting to require training for that, and if you have to pay, I definitely couldn’t afford that. But I’m all for the idea of training. It’s better than putting bright-eyed people tryna figure out how to save peoples lives, ya know? Nurses are just as important as the soldiers. They’re all saving lives, just in different ways.”
“I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way. But you’re right. The nurses and doctors are just as important as soldiers.” Bucky conceded, swinging their hands which were still clasped tightly together.
“So, Barnes, where are ya taking me? What do you have planned, hmm? Something special just for me or do you take all the girls on the exact same first date?”
Bucky feigned a look of hurt, his free hand covering his heart as though he had been wounded by her words. Which if he was perfectly honest, her words did sting a little. Whoever had said sticks and stones can break your bones but words could never hurt you was an idiot.
“Give me some credit, Annie. I’m original. And I don’t go on that many dates.”
“You’re right. You just sleep around. One and done, right?” Anabelle shot back.
Bucky stopped walking, staring at her. Anabelle only stopped at the tug of her hand still connected to Bucky.
“Why’d you agree to come out with me if all you planned to do was make cheap shots at me?” He asked her, his lips pressed into a thin line. Despite his outward appearance, her jabs at his tendency did actually hurt, especially coming from her.
“It’d be rude to turn down someone who will be protecting my freedom.” Anabelle said simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“So, let me get this straight. You didn’t actually want to be here. You just came because I’m going to be a solider? Because you felt you had to. Not because you wanted to? You judge me for my dating habits when you’re no better, doll. Even if you don’t believe it, I actually do care about their feelings. And at least they want what I’m givin’ them just as much as I do. You judge me but you’re just as bad. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I wanted to get to known Anabelle Burton? Do you think I make a habit of chasing after one girl to get het to agree to go on a date she doesn’t even want to be on?”
Bucky takes a step closer to her, but Anabelle involuntarily takes a step back. The seriousness of his voice paired with his towering frame was a little off putting. He hesitated a moment before stepping closer to her again. This time, she didn’t take a step back.
“You liked the challenge.“ she shoots back, her voice quiet.
Bucky silences Anabelle, placing a finger over her lips.
“No, I’m the one doing the talking here, doll.” He tells her, his finger not leaving her lips. “Have you thought that maybe I actually like you? That there was a reason that I chased you so damn much? Ever stop to think that by agreeing to this date it made me inexplicably excited? That I planned for hours what exactly I was gonna do? But then it turns out that I was set up without even having a chance at a second date. That come to find out your mind had been made up about me before you even said yes? How do you think it makes me feel that you only agreed to come tonight out of some twisted sense of obligation? That you never wanted to be around me like I do you? Tell me, Anabelle, tell me how you thought that’d make me feel? That this date was failed from the start. That you refused to have fun before it even began. Because why? Because you worry you may actually like me? Would that be so bad?”
Anabelle’s mouth opened and closed as she struggled to form a coherent answer. Her heart beat wildly against her chest, and despite the strong emotion Bucky was conveying, she wasn’t for a second scared of him. He had a calm sort of anger, and she could tell he was disappointed more than anything.
She felt guilty. Anabelle figure that he wouldn’t care. That she was just another in the long line of broken hearts that trailed after him.
“You know what, doesn’t matter. I’m not gonna force you to be someplace you won’t enjoy. C’mon, I’m taking you home.” Bucky says, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Anabelle hadn’t been quick enough to reply, though she had no clue what she would have said to change his mind. But did she even want to change her mind? After all, he was tight. She had come out of her own sense of obligation, not because she had the intentions on going on a date with Bucky Barnes, but rather the future soldier he would be. Which meant him taking her home was a good thing.
But then why did she feel so sad?
“Bucky...” Anabelle started.
“Save it, doll. I’m taking you home. Saving you from wasting an evening with me.”
Despite how upset he was, Bucky hadn’t once let go of her hand. It was still tucked in his, though at this point he was leading her home. He hadn’t been joking. He wasn’t forcing her on a date she didn’t want to be on, no matter how much it hurt him to forget all the plans he had made.
They had been about fifteen minutes away from her house when the date had been brought to a screeching halt. The fifteen minute return had been the most awkward and uncomfortable minutes of Anabelle’s entire life. You could cut the tension with a knife, and it was quite honestly suffocating.
“I think it’s best I stay down here, don’t you?” Bucky asked as they came upon her building door, his tone bitter.
“Bucky...I’m sorry.” Anabelle admits quietly.
“Yeah, doll, so am I,” Bucky sighs, looking away from her. Finally he lets go of her hand.
Anabelle nods and her gaze falls to the ground. She opens the door of the building and was halfway in before Bucky stopped her.
“Anabelle, for the record, I was gonna take you on a picnic in the park. Then to a cartoon. In case you were wondering.” Bucky shrugged.
“Oh.” Anabelle said, unable to form words. It seemed like a sweet enough date, both with the option of hanging out and talking, and also just quietly enjoying each others company. Only she had gone and screwed it up. “Goodnight, Bucky.”
“Goodnight, Annie.”
This time she didn’t correct him.
She dredged up to her home, her head hung in guilt the entire way. When she arrived to her door and opened it, she was met with the surprised faces of her mother and sister.
“You’re back early.” Her mother comments, confused.