@JensenAckles And JJ And Music... (x) | Burbank Convention, March 17, 2024

@JensenAckles and JJ and music... (x) | Burbank Convention, March 17, 2024

Happy Birthday, Doll

A gift for Beka (@impala-dreamer). I hope you have an amazing day. You are kind, talented, and beautiful. I appreciate your friendship so much.

🎉💐Happy Birthday!💐🎉

Summary: Bucky has a special surprise planned for her. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: 1,608 Warnings: Fluff Beta: None Credits: Divider by @firefly-graphics; photo source: (x); Banner made by me.

Pulling the front door open, your greeting is curbed by your sharp inhale. The man standing before you is a sight to behold. It’s rare that you see him in a suit, so you take your time admiring the way the jacket and shirt hug his shoulders and chest, how the trousers fit snugly around his thighs and then taper to skim the tops of his shoes—perfectly tailored to fit his muscular form. His squared jaw sports the soft scruff you adore, and steel blue eyes shine with mischief as they roam over your figure. The tip of his tongue wets perfect pink lips as his smile widens.

“You look stunning.”

It’s said softly, tinged with awe, but the deep throatiness is like a bassline thrumming through your veins, plucking you from stupor. Your smile grows to match his. “Thank you. So do you.”

Bucky leans in to give you a lingering, heady kiss. Knees ready to buckle from a lack of oxygen when he finally releases your mouth, you latch onto his vibranium arm to steady yourself.

Resting a hand on your hip to further support you, he asks, “You ready to go?”

“You know,” you say, looking up and giving him a pouty little smile, “we could just stay here.”

“Nice try, but I want to take my girl someplace special for her birthday.” He spins you around and reaches for the wrap you’d tossed over the arm of the couch.

You huff but turn to wink at him over your shoulder. He takes the opportunity to playfully nip your ear before draping the fabric around you. Once he ensures you will be warm enough, the two of you head out. As you exit the compound's front door, you ask, “So, where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see soon enough.” Gently gripping your elbow, he turns you to face him. “But it’s a surprise.” In his free hand, he’s holding a dark navy strip of silk.

Sucking in a breath, your eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Yes.” A simple, firm statement, but when you chew on your lip, he adds, “If you’re okay with it.”

Your hesitation isn’t due to wearing a blindfold. It’s just that you would rather go back upstairs and use it in the confines of your bedroom. His wavering smile prompts you to quickly reply, “Yes,” then lean in to give him a slow, sweet kiss before turning your back to him.

Bucky places the soft fabric over your eyes, and you raise your hands to hold it in place as he ties it around your head. “Does it feel okay?” he asks, shifting to stand in front of you. Nodding, you drop your hands, and he kisses your forehead. “All right, don’t move.”

You hear the car door open, and then he’s back at your side, guiding you to the vehicle and helping you inside. It’s an odd feeling not being able to see the road in front of you or the scenery passing by, but Buck holds your hand for the entire drive, asking about your day and telling you about his, never letting your destination slip. No matter how many times you try to trick him into telling.

Stumbling as the tips of your heels sink into the soft terrain, you huff, “Why’d you ask me to get dressed up if you were planning on taking me hiking?”

Despite your slight annoyance, you’re grateful for the arm that slips around your waist to hold you close. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ve got ya.” Even though he can’t see it, you roll your eyes, but then his warm breath tickles your ear, sending a pleasant shiver through your body. “We’re almost there.”

Relaxing back into him, you let him shuffle you forward. You had failed miserably to keep your bearings from where you started. The drive hadn’t been too long, but there were several turns. And once he’d parked and helped you out of the car, there were too many stops where he distracted you with hungry kisses and sweet whispers in your ear.

Your best guess is a park or a clearing in the woods. Pine, foliage, and fresh-cut grass scent the air. But why would you be out in the middle of the woods at this time of night? Nervous energy makes your breath hitch as you try to picture possible locations in your mind.

“Three more steps, and then stop.”

You do as instructed, and he releases your hand. Wherever you are is eerily silent, and so is Bucky. You strain to hear his breath, the soft whir of movement from his vibranium arm, or the hushed voices of your friends, but the only thing you hear is the gentle rustle of leaves and the far-off chirping of katydids. Your pulse kicks up, and your skin prickles with growing anticipation.

While you had hoped to spend the evening alone with your boyfriend, you knew a couple of weeks ago that Bucky was arranging a surprise. It wasn’t clear exactly what he was planning, but he hadn't been very stealthy for a super soldier known for stealth. His teammates, usually very good with clandestine missions, were surprisingly bad at hiding their involvement. Sam was the worst. He’d been avoiding you for the last three days—walking out of rooms or literally turning to walk in the other direction if you were heading toward him in the hallway.

Bucky startles you from your thoughts when he grips your upper arms. Warm yellow light seeps over the top of the blindfold where it slipped from your last heated kiss. The opening notes of your favorite song float on the breeze.

“Buck?”

He slips the fabric from your eyes and tucks it in his pocket while you blink to adjust to the change in illumination. Bucky stands before you, the light behind him forming a halo around his body. Cupping your cheek in his warm hand, he takes a moment to stare intently at you. “I hope you like it.”

With the minimal light at this angle, it’s hard to read the emotion in his eyes, but you can feel the uncertainty begin to radiate from him. Gripping the lapels of his jacket, you pull him toward you, whispering against his lips, “I love you,” before pushing up on your toes to capture his mouth with yours. Wrapping his arms around you to hold you close, he deepens the kiss.

Right now, you couldn't care less about what he’s organized because he will always be the best birthday present you could ever receive. You are perfectly content to stay frozen in the moment forever. Loosening his hold, he dips back in for one more kiss and then steps aside, watching as you take in the sight in front of you.

An enormous tent sits on a round wooden platform beside a small lake. Fairy lights are strung over poles, creating a path to the structure's entrance. The tent flaps are tied back with flower-trimmed ribbons, and two decorative stumps serve as tables for candle-filled lanterns on either side of the entrance. The opening is large enough to take in most of the interior, which is filled with opulence like you’ve never seen. It’s like an entire apartment is set up in the space.

Shocked, his name slips from your lips in a breath of reverence. “James.”

“Want to go in and see the rest?” You frantically nod in approval but remain where you stand, slightly bouncing on the balls of your feet until a soft chuckle and cool metal gently placed at the small of your back nudges you forward.

With an excited cry, you rush into the tent, stopping at the foot of the large bed covered in pillows. Trailing your hand over the soft bedding, you kick off your shoes and scrunch your toes into the lush, deep-piled rug. The large chandelier hanging from the peaked roof and additional lanterns on side tables give the room a golden glow. Tears begin to well as you take in the rest of the space. A table set for two, a bar cart, and a mini fridge. The oversized cushions of the loveseat with a cashmere blanket gracefully thrown over the back and the large vase of your favorite flowers on the coffee table.

It’s beyond anything you had expected or imagined he might have been planning and a bit overwhelming. As you turn to face him, you notice the large, free-standing wooden frame near the entrance. Several wires are strung through the width of the frame, and individually clipped to the wires are envelopes in an array of sizes and colors—many, many envelopes.

Facing Bucky with a watery gaze, he gives you a soft smile and a nod. “Go ahead. Take a look.”

Opening the first envelope, you find a beautiful card with birthday greetings from one of your closest friends. The next one is from Sam, then another friend, and then another—cards and letters from friends from all over the world. When you sniffle, swiping at the stream of tears rolling down your cheek, Bucky steps up behind you and kisses the top of your head.

“I know how much you like celebrating with your friends, but I wanted you all to myself tonight. I thought …hoped this might be a good compromise.”

Nearly choking on the sob that wells in your throat, you spin and throw your arms around his neck and blubber, “It’s p- perfect,” as you bury your face in the front of his shirt.

He squeezes you tight in his embrace and whispers, “Happy Birthday, doll.”