For your ficlets, how about Andy Barber and notes tucked beneath your morning coffee. And let’s go fluffy, since it leans that way and it’s a ficlet 🤣 (that said, spicy could be fun too 😉)
I added a touch of angst (not much!). I hope you don't mind!
Post-It Notes
Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader
Summary: You like to surprise Andy with post-it notes.
Word Count: Over 750
Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, touch of angst and insecurities, comfort, feels, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?)
A/N: Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
The first post-it note you left for Andy was in his briefcase. You wrote, “Have a great day!” with a smiley face and heart. It was a silly thing really. You just wanted to do something to make him smile when he went to work.
“I loved the note, honey,” he told you once he got home, showing you that he kept it, too.
It became your new thing after that.
It was fun thinking of new places to hide notes for him. In the dresser drawers, tucked inside of his favorite book, in his lunch container. You managed to sneak one into his wallet once and even in his glove compartment when he wasn’t looking. It was almost like a game and you imagined his smile or chuckle every time he found one when you weren’t around.
The notes came in different colors and shapes. You tried to come up with different kinds of quotes, too, that ranged from telling him to have a good day to how much you loved him to how sexy he was. You wanted each to feel special and to be a surprise.
“You spoil me,” he smiled when he found one in his tacklebox during a weekend trip.
For some reason you worried after a few weeks that he’d get sick of the notes and you stopped leaving them for him for a short time. You weren’t sure why you suddenly felt insecure about them. It wasn’t like he said anything. It just felt… Well, like you were being clingy or too much.
“Morning,” Andy smiled when you ventured into the kitchen. He was already at the island sipping his coffee, dressed in his usual suit sans the jacket. He had a mug ready for you, too.
“Morning,” you smiled back, greeting him with a kiss. “Mmm. Caffeine,” you said happily, your hands warming as they wrapped around the mug and inhaling as you lifted it up to your face.
“Yep,” he smirked, looking at you expectantly as he took another sip.
“What?” you asked curiously. You knew that look. What was he up to?
His eyes flickered to where your mug was sitting before he looked at your face again. Glancing down, you gasped when you spotted the post-it note. You recognized Andy’s handwriting and smiled when you read it: “I’ll always love you, honey.”
“You…” you set the mug down so you could trace the letters with your finger. “You left me a post-it note.”
“Well, you’re always leaving them for me, and they brighten my day. I wanted to do the same for you,” he explained, your face falling a bit since you hadn’t given him a note in days. “Are you okay?”
“I thought they’d annoy you after a while, so I stopped.” You smiled sadly when you faced him. He looked heartbroken, and you felt like an idiot. “And it was nothing you said or did, okay? I promise. You know I just get in my own head sometimes.”
Everyone had moments like that when the mean voice won.
“You really don’t know much they mean to me, do you, honey?” he asked quietly, stepping away before you could answer. “Hold on.”
You sipped your coffee while you waited for him to come back, staring at the post-it note again as guilt churned in your stomach. It was so sweet of him to do that. Why did you doubt yourself?
“Here,” he said, coming back into the kitchen with a small album in hand. You hadn’t seen it before. “Take a look.”
Flipping it open and looking through the pages, tears clogged your throat. It was every single note you had given him, each one carefully preserved. “You saved all of them,” you whispered, a tear slipping out from the corner of your eye.
“Of course, I did.” His beard tickled your cheek as he kissed it away. “They mean everything to me, and so do you.”
Turning your head, you brushed your lips against his thanks. A thank you for keeping them, for assuring you, and for loving you. “I’ll keep leaving them then.”
“And I can’t wait to figure out where you hide the next one,” he said, slipping his arms around your waist. “You know, it’s still early. I think we should go back to bed.”
“But you’re already dressed,” you teased.
“Never stopped us before,” he chuckled, kissing you again.
Having a partner like Andy made you feel blessed, and you couldn’t wait to leave him another note.
Earlier today I stumbled upon @the-slumberparty and their Candy Hearts Sleepover daily prompts. Today’s was “a hug turns into an accidental kiss” and I had to urge to write. It started as one thing and then became what is here.
Thanks to @nomadicpixel for her support and encouragement.
Title: If This Was A Romance Novel
Pairing: Andy Barber x first person reader
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language
Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.
In romance novels, kisses are never accidentally. There’s always some sort of fate or destiny thread that authors use to explain how a simple hug becomes a kiss that lights the match of desire for two characters.
But that doesn’t happen it real life.
At least not for me.
No, no. I’m the type of person who sees an old friend in a bar and makes a complete fool of myself.
Exhibit 1,985,201:
I met Andy Barber in college and crushed on him embarrassingly hard even though he never saw me as anything other than a study partner.
After college, we went our separate ways and only occasionally ran into each other at weddings and different social gatherings. Nothing more than simple hug, a “hi, how are you?” followed by polite small talk.
Until tonight, that is.
Tonight, we bumped into each other in a random bar. It all started out normally with a small, one armed hug.
Then it happened.
The hug became a kiss.
And by that I mean some asshole shoved past Andy, shoving him into me and our lips touched.
Barely, more of a brush than a full on touch.
In a romance novel that would have been enough. He would have made sure I was ok then asked if I wanted to try that again.
But Andy isn’t a book boyfriend and I’m far from a book worthy heroine.
Exhibit 1,985,202:
When our lips touched, my overpriced drink poured down the front of his pants.
“Fuck!” I exclaimed. “Andy, I’m sorry!”
“Not your fault,” he said, assuringly. “Nothing a trip to the bathroom can’t fix.” He offered you a small smile. “Good to see you.”
Then he was gone.
“Who the fuck was that?” Your friend asked, appearing at your side.
“An old friend,” you replied.
“What kind of friend?” She asked as you went back to the bar to get a replacement drink. “The boring kind or the fun kind?”
“The only in my dreams kind,” you replied before turning your attention to the bartender.
Armed with your new drink, you and your friend made your way back to the table the rest of your group was at.
One of the others was in the middle of recounting a funny story when they went silent at something behind you.
Looking up, you saw Andy standing in front of the table.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said to the group. Then turned his attention directly to you. “I just wanted to ask, is your number still the same from college?”
You nodded your head. Then your friend elbowed you in the side and you choked out. “Yes, it is.”
“Good, we’ll have to get together soon,” Andy said.
“She’s single,” your friend said.
“I was hoping that was the case,” Andy said with a grateful nod. “I am, too. I’ll call you?”
“Ok,” you replied, too shocked to say more.
“Great, have a nice evening all,” he said.
He gave you a last, long look before he walked off, leaving you to wonder that maybe fate and destiny weren’t just exclusive to romance novels.
old fashioned dd prompt for you, feel free to choose anyone for it: staring at the other's lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in
IT’S OLD FASHIONED DRUNK DRABBLES DAY WITH THE ENTIRE HBC!
Talk to Me
I also tied in the voice kink that @whisperlullaby and I were chatting about the other day
Word Count: 342
FLUFF! divider by @imerdwarf
You were only half paying attention to Bucky; it was his damn voice that was lulling you into a sort of spell, where parts of the room started to look blurry, other sounds were muted, people faded from view. All you could see was Bucky with his long chestnut hair pulled back into a bun, with a loose piece hanging just so, talking about some mission Stark had sent him on.
“Y/n? Are you with us or did you fall asleep again?” Tony inquired, noting the dreamy look on your face. The same face staring at Barnes. Bucky felt a slight heat on his face as his voice trailed off.
You looked around at the room. “What? Oh I didn’t get much sleep last night,” you fibbed as you straightened up in your seat. “Sorry.”
“Well you and Barnes can stay here and recover from your mission while the rest of us head out to do some new recon.” The room groaned but no one disagreed with Tony as everyone stood up to leave. Everyone but you and Bucky. Bucky watched as you stretched your arms out to the sides and yawned. Your sweatshirt rose just a sliver but it was enough to get his mind wandering.
“Eyes up Barnes,” you teased. “What did you tell Tony any way?”
“Just that Russia was a bust; the only thing we got out of it was lots of vodka and about five pounds,” Bucky started to go on but noticed that dreamy look on your face. “Doll? You okay? You’re staring at my lips.” He touched his lips self-consciously. “Do I have something on them?"
Rather than answer you rushed across the table, across the table, Bucky would marvel later, and kissed Bucky. Bucky’s surprise lasted only a moment before he kissed you back, wrapping his arms around your waist. You pulled back with a slight gasp. “I…”
Bucky leaned his forehead against yours, grinning from ear to ear. “I get it doll. Now can we get back to doing that some more?”
Sending in my #dirty13 early so I don’t forget! But something I’ve loved this past year is the glimpses of Chris’s house in Massachusetts. It’s gorgeous!!! And I would love to get down and dirty with him in every room.
THAT HOUSE, SERIOUSLY!! So darn spacious, I will forever love the little instagram live he did, I think it was during Christmas (??). But he was lying in bed watching “A Charlie Brown Christmas” with Dodger, and just watching the snow fall from his window was so calming.
