Okay so it turns out that the “Fight Me” fic was not supposed to be next. This one was. Instead of making some excuse or leaving it for the person who made the request to find, thinking I forgot their request (@berrystained - I’m so sorry!), I decided that I’d just upload it now. So here you are; you lucky bunnies get two fics in one night because I was impulsive and listened to my girlfriend rather than consult the checklist. Note to future self: always consult the list.
Prompt: I’d like to request a Bucky x Reader fiction, if that’s ok. ☺️ I was thinking the reader could be studying World War 2 at Uni so she learnt about Bucky and all the girls agree that he is really good looking but then she sees him in New York and then you can take it from there.
“A Soldier, A Ghost” (Part 1)
You let your fingers linger on the edge of the page before turning it. No matter how many times you stared at the words, nothing was going in. Why had you chosen to major in history?
It wasn’t as if learning about Captain America and his Howling Commandos wasn’t interesting – they were your idols. Legends! Your dad had told you stories about them when you were 5. You were thrilled by the topic. However, something about seeing the black and white photos organised next to an entire page of small font text was less than thrilling…
“God, Captain America is so hot.”
And there was also that. Apparently, the friends you had made within the class had selected it as their major for… other reasons. Your “study” buddy, Maggie, sat across from you in the booth. You’d taken yourselves to a 50s diner across town to try and immerse yourself in the era but it seemed that she lacked the focus and you lacked the motivation. Neither of you had done much revision. Maggie turned the page of her own textbook and sighed. Again.
“Let me guess,” you quipped, “Captain America is hot? No, wait, bangin’. Incredible. Muscular. Fine. Smoking. Literally any adjective that positively describes his peak physical condition.”
Maggie rolled her eyes.
“Seriously, (y/n), lighten up a little. Are you telling me that if a man like him walked in here and asked you out, you’d say no?” She tossed her open textbook in front of you and let the picture of Steven Rogers and his best friend smile up at you. With a huff and a roll of your eyes, you promptly closed the book. Maggie looked disappointed.
“I’m here to study, Mags. Not debate my hypothetical attraction to historical figures.”
“Aww,” She whined sarcastically. “And just when I wanted to
play ‘Kiss, Marry, Kill’ with former presidents.” You chuckled and stood up
from the booth.
“I’m going to get a milkshake. Please pick something for us to revise in the meantime.”
“Get me a doughnut and I’ll think about it.” Maggie smiled sweetly, sliding a couple of coins across the table to you.