*cleans The Blood From Hands* I Warned You Guys Wouldn’t Survive This (bc I Didn’t Either)

THIS IS CUTE!!!! #legomonkiekid

Part 10: Sparks special thanks to our co-writer maru cuz she did the color flats for this comic :DD The storm is coming

he's the guy the math problems warned you about

OKAY IVE BEEN IMAGINING A HAWKS X BAKUGOUS OLDER BROTHER READER?? okay but here me out bro, reader has been dating hawks for a while now, occasional family dinners at readers house with his parents, not brother, due to the fact that he’s training.

reader never brought up the fact that his younger brother goes to ua, and hawks never said anything about teaching 1a gym time-to-time, one day, reader goes to pick up katsuki early from school, and he realizes hawks is teaching, basically how everyone would react to one, finding out bakugou has a brother, and two he’s dating hawks??

(ps, hawks knew of readers last name, but never thought anything of it,)

big bro

keigo takami x male! older bakugou brother! reader

genre: fluff and slight crack oneshot (1,300ish words)

notes: i’m not a massive fan of how i wrote this (i don’t think it’s very good) but it’s been sitting in my drafts for months so here you go

synopsis: reader is katsuki's older brother who is dating hawks -- katsuki doesn't know reader is dating hawks, and hawks doesn't know katsuki is reader's brother. it stays that way until reader has to pick up katsuki from school early while hawks is teaching.

masterlist | make a request

Principal Nezu is shorter than you expect.

You expected him to be a man-sized rat, not a rat-sized man; though you suppose that isn’t an apt description either, given that he’s at least 2 feet tall and most rats aren’t 2 feet tall.

Regardless, he's still pretty intimidating when you run into him in the hall and he starts to ask you what you're doing.

"I'm looking for Bakugou Katsuki -- uh, my little brother. My parents wanted me to pick him up early since we're leaving today to go on a trip." Nezu seriously makes you nervous.

“Bakugou Katsuki is in Hero Training as of right now. You’ll be able to find him in the gym!” He smiles at you, teeth surprisingly white for a rodent. “Make sure to alert his teacher before you leave,” Nezu continues, an unnerving glint in his abyss-like eyes. You decide not to ask why he knows Katsuki’s timetable by heart.

“Sure. Thanks, Principal Nezu,” you smile, offering him a handshake kindly.

“Anytime, Bakugou-san.”

As you step into the gym, the first thing you notice is the smell of sweat. That, and the temperature. Despite the amount of heat emanating from the fire quirks of a select few and the body heat of everyone in the gym, it’s — surprisingly — rather cool. UA's unflinching ability to invest copious amounts of money into air conditioning was impressive. Your eyes trail across the sweeping ceilings and expensive equipment, whistling lowly. I should come here more often.

1-A looks to be split into pairs — sparring, maybe? — each student difficult to view clearly under the thin blanket of steam and smoke that surrounds them. Katsuki, however, is easy to spot among them. His explosions light up the room, the sound of the loud booms only rivalled by his rage-fuelled yelling. You watch, amused. Glad he’s… letting that out.

As much as you didn’t want to interrupt class (the idea of 20 different teenagers having their undivided attention on you was a terrifying thought), the teacher was nowhere in sight and you were running out of time. “Katsuki!” you call, waving at the angry red glare that lands on you. The boy, in response, rolls his eyes snidely and stays rooted on the spot.

You sigh. Little brothers are so goddamn annoying. “Let’s go, dude,” you urge, emphasising your words with a vague ‘hurry up’ gesture. He scowls, but obliges nonetheless, walking slowly over with his hands shoved into his pockets. Once he's in front of you, he stops.

“My teacher isn’t here. I can’t leave yet.”

“Isn’t it their job to, you know, teach? Where the fuck did they go?” You furrow your brows.

“Fuck if I know,” Katsuki responds, matching your curses with equal indifference. “He went with Deku to go and get something.”

“Izuku’s here?”

“Why wouldn’t he be, dumbass? He’s in my class.”

And that’s when you notice the rest of 1-A. 18 pairs of eyes stare at you in utter shock and confusion, burning with questions. Your body stills, awkward under their gazes.

“Is that… your brother?” a red-haired boy with sharp teeth asks, looking between you and Katsuki slowly.

“Yeah,” Katsuki replies nonchalantly.

You take in the other boy's appearance: the insane amount of gel in his weirdly-styled hair, pointed teeth and the fact that he was sparring with Katsuki. Close friend, bad hair?

“You must be Shitty Hair.” you say, prompting half of the class to erupt into giggles. Vaguely, you recall his name is Kirishima, but Katsuki says it so rarely that you barely even associate it with him. ‘Shitty Hair’ blushes at the attention, nodding bashfully with an awkward smile. He rubs the nape of his neck, glancing once again between Katsuki and you.

“I can see how you’re related,” he laughs uncertainly.

“I can see who got the good genes,” a pink-haired girl with horns calls, “clearly not Bakugou.”

“YOU WANNA SAY THAT AGA—”

The doors slam open. You first see Izuku, who pauses at the commotion, and behind him you see… your boyfriend? What the fuck?

“Keigo?”

“[Y/N]?”

“[Y/N]-nii?” Izuku adds.

“Nii?” someone whispers in confusion.

“Hey, Izuku,” you respond weakly.

Silence falls. You take a moment to appreciate Keigo in his hero costume before the dots connect and you turn to Katsuki accusingly.

“He’s your teacher!?”

“He’s your brother!?” Keigo counters.

You turn to your boyfriend. “I told you I have a brother. You know my last name. You’ve literally met my mother and she’s the carbon-copy of Katsuki. Keigo, what even?”

“Er, well, in hindsight, maybe you’re right— but... you’re so nice,” he says, disbelief evident in his wide eyes and confused brows. “And he’s so… not—”

“The fuck did you just say—!?”

“Young man, I will give you a detention if you swear at me again,” Keigo says sternly, schooling his face into something unnaturally serious and crossing his toned arms over his chest. You can see the humour dancing his eyes, prompting you to chuckle quietly.

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Yes, Hawks-sensei,” he mutters, face contorted into a scowl. He angrily taps his shoe on the ground.

“Stop being a shit,” you chide, grabbing Katsuki by the shoulder roughly and rubbing your knuckles into his skull. The rest of 1-A watches on in absolute disbelief. (Except Izuku. He’s used to this.)

Katsuki groans exasperatedly, “You stop being a shit.”

“Hey!” Hawks gasps dramatically, “don’t call my boyfriend a shit!”

Silence.

You rub a hand over your temple in an attempt to ease your oncoming headache.

“YOUR FUCKING WHAT?!”

“Katsuki—”

The rest of 1-A is left in shock. (Including Izuku, this time). Some start yelling, some look like they’ve turned to stone, the usual. You’re too busy trying to hold back your feral little brother from attacking Keigo — you know he won’t actually, you’re just hoping Keigo knows that too.

“Wait, you’re gay?” A boy who you can recall as Kaminari splutters. Your face crinkles into confusion, nose scrunching like you’ve smelt a bad odour. You can see why Katsuki calls him Dunce Face.

“It runs in the family,” you say, with a pointed look to Katsuki.

His exhaustion must’ve caught up to him since he only offers a middle finger in response. Kaminari bursts into startled and slightly scared laughter.

A warm arm makes its way around your waist and it takes an embarrassing amount of effort for you to suppress a smile. You don’t even have to look at Keigo to know that he’s grinning.

Neither of you are big fans of PDA, but the urge to hug him right now is particularly strong; especially since he’s right there, but there’s also 20 kids right there which sucks and you have to go—

Right. You and Katsuki need to go. That was the point of this whole ordeal.

“Keigo,” you murmur, quiet enough for only him to hear. The rest of the class has ignored the two of you in favour of chatting amongst themselves or questioning Katsuki. Keigo hums, meeting your eyes. He smiles, his golden irises pooling with affection and his arm squeezing gently around your waist, seemingly in a trance. You chuckle, “I need to go.”

He startles. “Right! Right,” he says, clearing his throat. You pretend not to notice the faint tinge of red high on his cheekbones.

“Okay, 1-A. I’m gonna go sort this out quickly,” Keigo says to the class, his voice raised slightly in order to drown out the talking. “So please continue sparring — without quirks — until I’m back. I won’t be long.”

The class answers an affirmative, and then the two of you (plus Katsuki) are out the door. You turn to face Keigo, placing a quick peck on his lips. “I thought I just needed to tell you Katsuki was leaving and then you’d sort it?”

“That’s true… but I missed you,” Keigo sighs wearily, acting like he hadn’t seen you in years. (You spent the night with him literally yesterday.)

“Stop before I tear my fucking eyes out,” Katsuki interrupts. Keigo lifts his head to glare unhappily at him.

“Piss off, Katsuki,” you grumble, placing a slightly longer kiss on Keigo’s lips. You pull away at the realisation that you’re probably late, which means you’ll probably have to face the wrath of Mitsuki Bakugo. “I should— we should go. I’ve stayed way longer than I needed to.”

“Thank fuck,” Katsuki grumbles, occupying himself with his phone. Teenagers.

Keigo groans dejectedly but lets you go nonetheless. He watches you walk away, waving. “Bye, honeybear!”

“Don’t call me that!”

'' flower shop of feelings ,,

[ 03 : distractions ]

|| pairing : james "bucky" barnes x florist!reader

|| warning : very VERY brief encounter with a gun , mission but barely talked abt

|| wc : 2.5k

The next couple of weeks went by like normal, or as normal as they coule. Both you and Bucky would text each other, sending small ‘good morning!’ texts as well as ‘goodnight’ ones. It made Bucky act as if he was a highschooler again, his heart all giddy every time a notification popped up on his phone- sure, he didn’t have a phone back when he was a teen but hush.

He really did enjoy texting you, it was definitely the highlight of his day.. But the more you texted, the more.. Attached, he's grown? Didn’t help that you’d both go out for coffee at least once a week. It was harder to hide himself from you, hide the fact he was living in the Avengers Tower, that he was.. Well, seen as the Winter Soldier.

You were just so sweet. Kind. He couldn’t tell you, his past was a literal nightmare. He’d done terrible things and-

“Hey, soldat, Steve, Sam and I are going to a museum, wanna join?”

“Why would I wanna go to a museum?”

“Maybe ‘cause you’re ancient,” Natasha snickered before shaking her head. “We’re going there ‘cause we got a tip that somethings going to go down. Might be big, wanna join?”

As much as Bucky wanted to say no and just lock himself in his room, he knew Steve would just try to drag him out. So, instead of fighting it, he nodded and sat up. Plus, maybe this could distract him from you.

–

In some “undercover” clothes, the four of them were walking around a museum, one that showed off arts and sculptures. Maybe in another life, Bucky would’ve found it interesting. But, they were just pretending to be enamored by the statuettes. No, they were on guard due to the fact they had gotten a warning from anonymous that some suspicious activity was going to go down. It could be some sort of drop-off of a weapon, magic shit, or maybe just stealing some art. Who knows?

Bucky stood besides Sam as they stared at some giant piece of art, it was a painting. A really well done one, actually. Oil painting of some sort of landscape with a bunch of people, the colors matched, the composition was wonderful, and the story behind it was deep.

“Think something’s actually gonna happen today, or just bad intel?” Sam kept his eyes ahead, as if analyzing the art in front of him.

“.. 10 bucks says something’s going to happen”

“10 bucks says it’s bad intel, I mean c’mon, it’s a Wednesday”

“What’s so not important about a Wednesday?”

“Why couldn’t it be on a Friday?”

“Maybe the bad guys were busy on Friday.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and just rolled his shoulder. “I’m gonna go over down the hall, check out the statues and make sure nothing’s going down.”

Bucky nodded and went back to looking up at the painting. Admiring the bumps and parts of the painting where the paint seemed to clump. Real pretty.

He turned from the painting and went the opposite direction of Sam. But the second he started to walk, he froze. Either this is a terrible coincidence or God wants to mess with him. Standing a few feet away from him was you. Shit shit shit! He can't be distracted by you. In a small panic, Bucky started to walk back, a few steps before he turned around and bumped into something.

Shit, all that ‘training’ went to shit, he bumped into a trashcan. Making a loud clatter noise, drawing everyone's attention, including yours. Now where was Sam in all this? That bitch was recording everything.

“James?”

Shit.

He turned slowly around, tugging at his hood and hiding his forehead. “Hey, [Name]..”

You just giggled at the strange coincidence that Bucky was here. In fact, you didn’t even mean to come to the museum today, a buddy of yours that worked there invited you to go, and since you didn’t have to open up shop today, you agreed! Funny how fate works! “What’re you doing here? You here with a friend?” You glanced around, it didn't seem anyone claimed to have gone along with Bucky.

“Admiring the art.” He let go of his hood before pushing his hands into his pockets. He couldn’t say that he was actually on some Avenger mission. You still didn’t know he was the Winter Soldier. And he wanted to keep it that way.. “What’re you doing here?”

“My friend just invited me, she works here, kinda just spur of the moment!” You scratched the back of your head as you looked up at the painting in front of you. “Plus, I didn’t have to open shop today.. Kinda a free day today.”

Bucky nodded and shifted in his spot. His eyes darted from you and back to the painting, just because the two of you have been texting for the last month didn’t mean he knew how to talk to you like a normal person. I mean, he was a good speaker back then right? He could.. He could try to act like that again, right?

“Hey! Since you’re alone.. And I’m alone, wanna.. Be alone together?” You shrugged, shifting your weight from your toes to your heels. Rocking front to back as you asked. “As cheesy as that is.”

The super soldier besides you looked over your face for a brief moment before looking around the hall. Looking for Sam, who was currently pretending to be interested in some sort of old statue. Bucky was sure he’s going to ask about who you were later, God, he’ll need to make up a lie.. That’s not even what he should be worried about, he should be worried about the damn mission they were on!

Your eyes softened as you looked up at his nervousness. Bucky was an.. Awkward person, but it was part of his charm, that’s why you like him. “Or, I could walk away, meet you back up later, and then pretend it’s a coincidence?” You cracked a small smile and kept your eyes on him.

Thankfully, the small joke you made seemed to make him visibly less like he’s about to explode on the spot. He gave a short nod before turning away and walked off. You didn’t mind, he was his own person, and you were yours, but man would it have been fun to be with him instead of alone.

–

The time passed by quickly, every other exhibit, you’d find yourself in the middle of a conversation with James. Though, he seemed to be on guard more and more each ‘coincident meeting.’ Again, you didn’t mind.

“Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s wonderful people are trying to be more- communicative with their mistakes with their partners, but seriously, I’ve gotten like 15 customers this week who wanted to buy a basic rose bouquet as a sorry present!” You tugged at your hair as you complained about work. Bucky didn’t mind, though, he’d rather listen to your voice than his. “I swear, if I get one more customer ask what’s the best type of flowers for apologizing to their partners for sleeping with their best friend, I’m gonna lose it!”

“It’s that common?”

“Uh, yeah, people are such assholes nowadays, can’t find a decent person to date, y’get desperate, then yeesh! You’re stuck with some asshole!” You waved your hand in the air as you brushed what you said aside. Truth be told, you hadn’t gotten into a relationship in the past.. Maybe 2 years? Even then, it was always casual. “That’s why I–”

RING! RING! EMERGENCY! EVACUATE TO THE NEAREST EXITS!

The blaring alarms cut you off as red lights danced in your vision. There were people screaming and guns firing, it seemed something bad did happen, and Sam owed Bucky 10 bucks. Bucky’s eyes darted towards the sound of the gunshots and started to run towards it, only to be tugged by your hand. Your eyes wide with worry and confusion as to why the hell your friend James was running towards the danger!

“James! What’re you doing?! C’mon, we hafta go!”

“I can’t–”

“Bucky, there’re 6 armed men near Sam and your location, Nat and I are taking care of the other 6” Steve’s voice came through into Bucky’s earpiece. “They’re trying to do a drop-off, some sort of Hydra weapon! Get the briefcase!”

“On my way.” Bucky replied as you stared up at him, your brows furrowed in even more confusion. What the hell was he doing?? “You need to get out of here, it’s not safe.”

“No, we have to get out of here! James, c’mon, you’re not some super he–”

You cut yourself off as your friend shucked his jacket off and blocked a bullet that was flying both your ways.. With his arm. A sleek, black metal arm. That’s when it hit you, that’s why he seemed so familiar. That’s why he was so secretive on where he stayed or not. He wasn’t just James. He was James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier.

“Holy shit.”

“Get out of here, I’ll-” James grabbed a gun from his holestor (Oh my god???) and shot at the ones who were shooting at the both of you. “I’ll find you outside.”

“.. Be careful” You muttered before turning away and running out to the closest exit. You didn’t know how to react, what to do with the newfound information. You felt so.. So stupid, not realizing that James was an Avenger. He lived in the Avenger tower- Oh my god, he was a super soldier.

With shallow breaths you turned a corner and your eyes locked to the nearest exit. You took a breath of fresh air as you felt the cold breeze hit your face, as if the museum was stuffed with smoke. It wasn’t, thank god, the people who arranged the attack didn’t seem to think to use fire power. It’s probably for the best.

As you stepped farther away from the door, a paramedic looked over you, you weren’t hurt, not shot, not even grazed. Thank god for.. James. You still couldn’t wrap your head around it. Whilst you sat on the edge of the sidewalk, waiting for the fight to die down, you pulled your phone out. You didn’t have many contacts, honestly you were.. Pretty alone. Parents? Only mom was left after dad passed. Siblings? An older, pretentious brother. Friends? You were pretty quiet in highschool, only the museum buddy of yours, who was Maria, she’s the one who gave you this death wish of an invite here. Then there was your other friend, who was in fact your neighbor, May and her nephew Peter. Nice bunch, you gave them flowers on their birthdays and they’d bring you some sort of baked good. Ah, but I digress.

Jeez. Maybe you’ll call up May, she’d probably know about this, plus, she told you Peter was an intern at Starks, right? Ah, but.. No, that wouldn’t do much good. He’s an intern, not some superhero. You kept scrolling through your phone for a few more minutes. You didn’t know how well of a promise James’ll keep, especially with him fighting people with.. Super weapons or something, but you stayed. Hoping he’ll keep to his word and try to find you.

After a long while, you heard claps and cheers from the citizens as the four of them brought all 12 of the villains out of the museum. They seemed hurt, but not to the brink of death, thankfully. The Cap was quick to hand them over to the police to take care of as the citizens slowly dispersed. People knew all about the hero's life, hearing it on the news and such, it was hard to be an Avenger. So, they needed space.

You waited as the crowds grew smaller before you took a few steps closer, holding your arms closely as you stood to the side. Watching as your friend's eyes darted around. It was amusing. Despite just saving a bunch of people, including yourself, he was still awkward.

“[Name].” He muttered, his voice light as a breath of fresh air as he spotted you. His shoulders seemed to sag in relief as he walked towards you. He should definitely be headed to the Avengers Tower, but right now he needed to make sure you were okay. “Are you hurt? They didn’t get you, right?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, James, I-” You let out a small breath and placed your hands on your hips as you looked over at him. He had some blood on his jacket, some scratches on his face.. And that arm. Oh, wow, he.. Yup, he had a metal arm. “You.. Never told me you were an Avenger.” The corner of your lips tugged into a small smile as you chuckled.

He mirrored your smile, relieved at the fact you didn’t seem upset, or even the smallest bit scared. “You never asked.”

Your nose crinkled, “I asked what your job was, you said–”

“That I work as security.”

“Security for the whole world, James!” With that you started to laugh into your hand, this was unbelievable. This awkward man who’d stumbled into your flower shop looking for a gift for his friend was James “Bucky” Barnes.

“Sorry for keeping that from you, I just-” He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck. “I liked that you just knew.. Me.”

That made your heart melt. Everyone in the world knew James as “Bucky” or “The Winter Soldier.” The only people who knew him differently was Steve, only because he knew him back in the 40s and was his best friend and.. You. You knew him as James, and as much as the name felt weird, it felt right in your lips.

“Don’t apologize,” You hit your fist against his non-metal arm in a playful manner, an understanding smile on your face. “I get why you didn’t tell me. I’m not upset over it, if you’re worried.”

A small smile danced on Bucky’s lips and he nodded. “You’re too sweet.”

“Nah, I’m just a good friend.”

“Friend.” Bucky repeated to himself and nodded again. Oh he loved being your friend. He honestly thought the only friend he’d ever have would be from the Avenger Tower, and that’s only because they were Steve’s friends. “Ah, uh- I should probably-”

He pointed over to where Steve, Natasha and Sam were talking and you immediately understood.

“Oh! Yeah, no you go do that-”

“Thanks, uhm-” He stepped back and hesitated to turn away. “I’ll, uh, text you?”

“Yeah- Yeah!”

“Cool.” He nodded and turned away, the corners of his usually scowling lips quirked up as he repeated to himself. “Cool.”

He approached his team and just blended in nicely, no one seemed to notice him leaving and coming back. Perfect.

He spared you one last glance, as you walked away. Friend.

|| WOOO !! :3 FRIENDSHIP

I may have gone a little bit crazy

My girl is SICK OF THIS GIG

certified jizzie post

Nailed It

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: super duper fluffy, some pining, some misunderstanding

Summary: Reader takes Bucky with her to the nail salon and ends up with a whole lot more than a polish change.

WC: 2240

A/N: No use of y/n, reader isn't described, and this is a shameless 'we have always lived in the tower' fic. Basically, CW never happened, Tony, Steve, and Bucky got their poop in a group like adults, and it's always chill on the communal floor.

Italicized conversation is in Vietnamese, plus a couple other phrases written out.

Special note: many thanks to @noellez-best-life23 and her hubs for the beta and the assistance. They rock.

Divider by @enchanthings

“Where ya headed?” Bucky asked, his voice carrying over from the couch in the common area while you made your way into the kitchen. The only parts of him you could truly see were the beat up old boots hanging over the arm of the sectional at one end and the curtain of his hair draped across the other end

“Hell if I don’t change my ways,” you replied as you filled your emotional support thermos with ice and fresh water. His little giggle in reply made you smile. “Headed out to get the claws sharpened.” 

This was greeted with the cutest gopher impression you’d ever seen, with only the top of his head popping up over the back of the couch to reveal his gorgeous eyes narrowed in confusion. “That’s a thing you need?” he asked as he sat up further and brushed his dark bangs out of his face. 

“I’m going to get my nails done,” you clarified with a smile, showing off your purple, glittery tips in desperate need of some professional attention. “Wanna come with?” 

Now, a part of you asked as a joke, because that wasn’t really his scene. It wasn’t like Lotus Nails in Little Saigon was a huge tourist attraction. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to spend time with him. 

In the protective confines of the tower, you were mission support and comms, not a superhero in any way but tech, and yet, you and Bucky had hit it off immediately, bonding over sci-fi and fantasy books and movies. He was frighteningly smart, with a sarcastic sense of humor and a sassy beautiful mouth. He made the cloistered, serious life of being a member of the Avengers Support crew fun. 

And it wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed he was pretty. Like intimidatingly so, even without the metal arm. You had eyes, and had had a healthy crush on him going back to eighth grade American History class, but in person… You’d like to say it was no problem at all overlooking that ridiculously sharp jawline and those massive shoulders, and that mouth… whew. 

But more than just a gorgeous everything, Bucky Barnes was a sweetheart. If ever a man ignited your desire to cuddle them, it was him. Something about him made you squishy and soft, and while normally you’d squash that instinct immediately, with him you were hesitant to follow through on that. 

In the first place, you had no idea how he felt about you. Up to this point, you’d been wallowing in your one-sided crush on a man who was likely emotionally unavailable in that sense. Not that you blamed him. After all he’d been through, he needed to do what he needed to do for him and you would never begrudge him that. 

In the second place, there was the not so little matter of you. You weren’t armed with potentially lethal sexiness like Natasha, or waif-like and twee like Wanda. You didn’t have illusions, not once in the history of ever had you been anyone’s first choice. Not that that really mattered anymore. Thanks to therapy and working on yourself, you were strong in your own sense of self and mostly unbothered by how other people perceived you or responded to you. 

It’s still unclear to you how a question tossed out so flippantly resulted in you standing in a crowded subway car to the Village with the Winter Soldier pressed in behind you like the most menacing and unreasonably hot shadow possible, but you had to admit, his henley, boots, and jeans combo coupled with his long hair, bright eyes, and stubble, was a thirst trap in every practical sense. 

So much for the relaxing afternoon you’d had planned. Now you’d be spending it focusing on keeping your libido from taking over your tongue and releasing your mortifyingly acute crush on such an unsuspecting victim. 

You two had made some smalltalk on the way to the salon, the brisk afternoon breeze refreshing after the stuffy train ride. 

You’d told him about needing to change from your winter to your summer color palette on your tips and toes, and he’d nodded along dutifully, glancing at your sandaled feet. The squinting  look of confusion and vague consternation never really left his face. 

He held the door as you entered the building, likely a reflex but you thanked him all the same. If you blushed a little, you could chalk it up to the sun exposure. 

“Chào các bạn,” you greeted the ladies as you walked into the salon. You’d been coming here for years, longer than you’d been with the Avengers even, so this place was a regular haunt for you. Because of the time of day, the place was mostly empty except for the staff, all of whom were sweet and very curious about your tagalong. 

“You speak Vietnamese?” Bucky questioned over the chattering as he watched you interact with your friends. 

“Sure,” you replied with a shrug and a smile. “Learned it for just this reason, actually. I like talking to folks and meeting new people.” He nodded, but it was hard to tell if he was still confused or slightly impressed. Then a stroke of genius struck you fast and hard. “Have you ever had a pedicure?” 

The wide blue eyes and quick wash of pallor as the blood left his face before coalescing in his cheeks made you laugh openly. “N-no?” 

The slight stutter of terror didn’t miss you at all. “You want one?” His response of blinking and not much else. “It doesn’t hurt.” 

“But-but, my toes.” It was hard to parse out the source of his exact concern, but he sounded like a little kid being asked to give up his beloved blanky for a quick stint in the laundry. His furrowed brow and hint of a pout made you want to kiss him all over his face and hold him while you reassured him. Admirably, you kept your hands and lips to yourself.

“Will have the time of their life, trust me.” You hoped your smile was reassuring, ”C’mon, it’ll be fun. Certainly more fun than just sitting in the lobby waiting for me to get done. Plus, it’ll be on me. I think you’ll like it.” 

His skeptical look followed him over his shoulder as he was led across the room to the pedi chairs and you were taken over to a table to begin your regular ritual. 

“Cut down?” your nail tech asked as she removed your electric purple gel polish a finger at a time. 

“Please,” you confirmed, though your attention was firmly across the room as Bucky was directed to take off his boots and roll up his pant legs to the knees. They were, unsurprisingly, just as sexy as the rest of him. He looked thoroughly flummoxed and out of his depth, but played along gamely. 

“He’s cute,” she observed in Vietnamese as she carried on flawlessly with her task. All the other techs in the room chimed in with agreements and additional praises for everything from his ‘pretty eyes’ to ‘big, sexy body’. If he only knew how in depth these ladies appreciated his form, he’d probably pass out from embarrassment. 

“Very,” you agreed with a smile, heat suffusing your cheeks totally unbidden. You feared that if he looked over right then, he’d know immediately that you were talking about him, but alas, nothing to be done. 

“Is he your boyfriend?” 

Your snorted giggle was wholly unintentional. “Don’t I wish. He’s not, unfortunately, but I totally would take him if he asked.” 

That answer perked up your tech considerably. “Ooh, that’s too bad. Does that mean he’s single?” 

You shook your head, doing your best not to grimace. “No.” It was hard not to sound petulant, but it was true. “I think he’s seeing someone.” At least, if the amount of Sharon Carter sightings you’d had in his vicinity were anything to go by. That woman was doing her best to hang off him like a poorly fitted suit. 

“Lucky them, I guess.”

“You have no idea.” You shook your head with a sad smile. “The things I would do to have him look at me… see me like that? I’d be an absolute menace. But alas.” You sighed wistfully and shrugged, admiring your fresh overlays as they cured. 

“Pity.” She patted your hand in sympathy before hauling out a massive set of polish color swatches. “Still, it’s good to have a friend, yes?”

“It is.” You nodded as you flipped through the selection to the glitter contingent. “This one please.” You handed her back the swatch for her to pull your color, when something caught your eye. 

It was blue. Bright, metallic blue with turquoise flakes that shimmered like the sun on the open seas. You looked at it and smiled, immediately thinking of the man across the room. “Actually, I have an idea.”

Bucky was still in the pedi chair by the time your hands were done, so you bopped on over to sit at an adjacent work station. His demeanor was lightyears away from the fearful one he’d had coming in, kicked back with eyes closed in utter bliss, his legs wrapped in hot towels and receiving a hot stone massage. “You good, Barnes?”

“Best I’ve been in a while, actually,” he confirmed without opening his eyes, a lazy grin unfurling across his lips. “I feel like you’ve been holding out on me. This is absolute heaven.” 

You took a moment to make eye contact with the tech working on him and handed off the bottle of polish you’d brought over with you. Her startled expression when she’d uncapped the shiny goodness made it difficult to stifle your laughter, but in the end, she just shrugged and nodded. 

“I’m glad you think so. What are you thinking about doing after this?” 

He shrugged. “Hadn’t thought about it, really. Not in the mood to return to the Tower?”

“Not especially.” You watched as the tech applied the bright blue polish with deft, practiced strokes and hit the nails with the UV lights to cure the polish quickly. “You got something in mind?”

“There’s a great Italian place not too far from here on Broome, just off of Mulberry. You wanna go?”

“James Barnes, are you asking me on a date?” your intention to keep your tone teasing and low stakes was entirely undone by your sudden breathlessness. In a bazillion years, this is not how you would have seen your afternoon going. 

“I might be.” Eyes that shimmered like moondust met yours, a tender, playful grin spread across his lips which did nothing at all to improve your breathing situation. “You interested?”

“You better say yes!” Nancy, the manager hollered across the salon from the front desk. 

“If you don’t, I definitely will!” your traitorous nail tech supplied. The rest of the girls in the place all chimed in with various levels of encouragement and teasing. 

“Give me a second to breathe, dang!” You couldn’t stop laughing, both from the giddyness in your chest and the exuberant chaos erupting in the salon. “I’m working on it.”

“Whaddya say, cutie?” 

Your face felt like it was on fire as much from the sudden nickname as it was from the whole room quieting down to await your answer. It was unnerving being so put on the spot, and yet, not enough to change your mind. “I like Italian,” you replied softly. 

“Alright then.” 

Bucky smiling was a rarity that you cherished. The way he beamed in that moment though, was a fricking revelation. It was a good thing you were already sitting down, because that would have absolutely taken out your knees otherwise. 

Once his nail tech turned him loose, he leaned down to put his socks back on, pausing with a puzzled look on his face before carrying on with his task. You’d expected him to freak out or at least have some questions, so his silence on the matter of his newly adorned toes was a bit disconcerting. You weren’t going to bring it up unless he did, though. 

You pulled your wallet out as you went up to the front to settle your bill. It was a bit pricier than you’d anticipated, but seeing the smile on Bucky’s face and spring in his step was more than worth the extra cost. 

“Cảm ơn bạn vì tất cả mọi thứ,” Bucky told Nancy as you signed off on the credit card slip, and you almost tossed the pen. 

“I’m sorry, what?” The blood drained from your head at a speed so fast it left you dizzy. You had absolutely no control of the way your jaw practically unhinged as it dropped open in shock.

Instead of answering you, he turned to address the rest of the room who were watching with undisguised curiosity. “I appreciate everything you did this afternoon. You are all too sweet.” Turning back to you like he hadn’t just set off the verbal equivalent of an incendiary device, he offered you his arm. “You ready, sweetheart?”

Shutting your mouth with an audible click, you nod mutely. In fact, you don’t manage to speak until you’re at least half a block down the street. “You never told me you speak Vietnamese.” 

The smug smirk and equally sexy wink about ended you on the spot. “You never asked.”

Y/N: You're giving me a sticker?

Aizawa: Not just any sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying "Me-Wow."

Y/N: I'm not a preschooler.

Aizawa: *shrugs* Fine, I'll take it back.

Y/N: No. I earned this. Back off.