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puppypeter · 3 years

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✨ All fics are complete! ✨

He Loves Me Cause I’m Cute, He Thinks I’m Pretty Funny | 2588 words 📱

He watches it back one more time after it posts, checking for typos in his subtitles and captions, and has to laugh again.

Steve fucking Rogers? His brain thought he could pull Captain America, literal superhero and America’s favorite sweetheart?

“Hello I’m a 35 year old amputee living in New York and I think that I could get Steve Rogers.”

the one where bucky posts a tiktok and steve is utterly smitten.

Summer Slipped Us Underneath Her Tongue | 10712 words 🧳

Bucky is a tour guide who enjoys sharing the rich history and culture of each city they pass through with a bunch of early-20's college students who just want to know the cheapest place to get drunk.

Except for Steve, who asks Bucky for a personal tour around his hometown.

The rest is, as they say, history.

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet | 3853 words 🧑🏼‍🍳

“I made soda bread.” Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.” The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

Ollie Meets Bagel | 5517 words 🥯

He was a skater boy, Steve said let's get bagels, boy.

Steve wants to start doing this twenty-first century thing properly. He gets help in the form of skateboarding, skateboarders, bagels, and Sam Wilson.

Taxi | 5113 words 🚕

Bucky Barnes was, he hoped, a good taxi driver.

He's so good, he actually tries to return lost property that ends up left in his car and... well. It has some unexpected consequences involving a National Icon.

Enough said.

Leg Day | 12157 words 🏋️‍♂️

“So talk to him,” Sam says.

“I can’t,” Bucky groans. “I can’t, Sam, I. He just.” He fluffs his hair up and stares at Sam, distraught. “I want him to bench press me.”

“Okay, so it’s serious,” Sam interprets. “Got it."

(Or: The one where Sam is Bucky's long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.)

Love In Aisle Four | 2127 words 🛍️

When Bucky needs to swing by the supermarket after a long, hard day of work, the last thing he expects is to meet a cute grocery clerk named Steve…

Coming Up Easy | 45515 words ✍🏻

“Listen, I was just thinking,” Steve says, his face open, eyebrows raised in a tentatively hopeful expression. “Why don’t you come stay at my place for a while? I’ve got an office that I barely use, and a change of scenery might do you good, right? Help you beat that writer’s block?” With a crooked smile, he adds, “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

While Bucky would normally crack a joke about how that’s exactly what a serial killer would say, right now, all he can do is blink at Steve in surprise, heart tripping over itself in his chest. Steve wants him to come and stay at his place. In Massachusetts. Just the two of them.

"Oh," Bucky croaks. "I- Wow."

“I mean, no pressure,” Steve says hastily. “Totally fine if you don’t wanna. I just thought I’d offer, in case it might help, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Bucky ignores the little voice in his head that sounds an awful lot Nat and Becca, telling him he’s setting himself up for heartbreak. “I mean, if you’re sure, that would be amazing.”

Anywhere The Wind Blows | 8845 words 👨‍🚒🎖️

After a catastrophic fire that shakes him to his core, Steve Rogers quits his job as a Brooklyn firefighter and relocates to a cabin in the remote Canadian wilderness, wanting quiet and solitude and to maybe never have to speak to another human being ever again. He gets his wish, more or less, until a recently injured Bucky Barnes is discharged from the Army and rents the cabin next door.

The Safer Course | 7918 words | Part 1 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

When Steve moves to the suburbs in 2033, he intends to retire from superhero life.

He does not intend to fall in love with his pain-in-the-ass neighbor.

Every Year I Have You | 7064 words | Part 2 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

Steve set the bar pretty high, as birthday presents go.

Bucky is determined to outdo him when July 4th comes around.

Beneath The Mistletoe | 21203 words 🎄

Bucky had a bet with his sister that if he didn’t have a boyfriend to bring home for Christmas by the time he was 25, he had to give her $200 and go blonde for a year. But now he's 25, it’s nearing December, and not only is Bucky as single as ever, but he’s also running low on cash. He doesn’t exactly want to bleach his hair, either.

At least Steve is willing to upgrade their relationship from best friends to fake boyfriends.

The Settler | 52203 words 🍞

“What do you want to do?”

Steve pauses and looks at them.

What he wants is to stay with them. He doesn't have any family left, they all died before he even joined the war and became... this. Captain America turned whatever he is now. But Natasha and Sam have become his family over the years. Not just because they're on the run together, fugitives and vigilantes, but way before that too.

He doesn't want to leave that.

But he knows that, realistically, he can't stay with them and they can't stay with him.

So he looks at them with a smile and lies. “I don't know.”

OR; In which Steve retires and finally finds a place to call home.

You Can’t Put Your Arms Around A Memory | 1148 words 🐈

"Alright, Bucky," Steve slows his steps, watches his neighbour stop at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. There's a canvas bag in his hand that Steve didn't notice earlier, cream coloured with the figure of a sleeping, black cat painted on it. "Have a good day."

He thinks Bucky's cheeks pink up a bit right then and there, but Steve can't tell. He's too distracted by his pounding, foolish heart, by the way Bucky smiles bashfully, and ducks his head. The way he seems like he wants to stay.

To Believe In Tomorrow | 3959 words 👨🏻‍🌾

Bucky's mornings at the community garden get a little more interesting when the new guy shows up.

Maybe This Christmas | 24873 words | Part 1 of Maybe ❄️

Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.

-----

Hurrying was a bad idea. Bucky’s foot hits a patch of ice and slides out from under him in what would have been a comical cartoon banana-peel-like trip, if it wasn’t happening to him, and he braces himself to hit the ground. This is going to hurt.

“Fuck,” Bucky screeches, but as he lands on his back, it’s not the cold hard concrete he expected, but a solid mass beneath him. Oh god, Bucky thinks as he realises he smacked into the person behind him and took them down with him.

Maybe This Year (Will Be Better Than Last) | 133868 words | Part 2 of Maybe ❄️

Last year, Bucky Barnes met Steve Rogers. Well actually, he slipped and fell on him. What followed was the best Christmas either of them had ever had. But what happens when Christmas is over and life returns to normal? What happens after the Christmas miracle?

-----

Bucky should have known. He did know. When things seem too good to be true, they usually are. And Steve is the best thing that has happened to him in a long time, possibly ever, so of course it couldn’t last.

Maybe This Time (I Hope I Get The Chance To Say Goodbye) | 34561 words | Part 3 of Maybe ❄️

Steve and Bucky Barnes are happily married. They've made it through some hard times and come out stronger and happier, together. Then Steve gets called on to come out of retirement for the most important mission of his life and everything changes. Everything.

-----

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…” Steve starts singing along softly, and Bucky chuckles, before leaning his head onto Steve’s shoulder, always happy when he’s in Steve’s arms.

“From now on, our troubles will be miles away…” Bucky joins in.

Dancing round their living room, just as in love as ever, their troubles seem light-years away, if not non-existent.

Sadly, they’re closer than they think.

The Unexpected Gift | 9504 words | Part 1 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Steve Rogers is fine.

After ending a long-term relationship with Sam Wilson, Steve moves back to New York. He's tired and lonely but depressed? No. At least, that's what he thinks.

From the window of his apartment, he watches a dark-haired man and his service dog sitting in the park, wondering what his story is.

The Winter Storm | 2218 words | Part 2 of When Winter Comes 🐕

"If I could give you one thing in life, I would give you the ability you see yourself through my eyes, only then would you realize how special you are to me."

After Bucky and Steve confessed their feelings for each other, life has its own twisted way to challenge the most profound love.

One January Night | 4213 words | Part 3 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Before going back to work, Steve Rogers still has things to learn: 1- Depression is a bitch and the battle against it isn't an easy one. 2- Dating a person with disabilities comes with its share of challenges.

Bucky Barnes Has His Shit Together (And Other Lies He Tells Himself) | 14159 words 🔒

You’d think a guy who owns one of the most successful bakeries in Brooklyn, has a million-dollar smile and that antiquated good ol’ boy charm, blond hair and blue eyes and biceps for days, would know what’s what.

But don’t let that fool you: Steve Rogers is a mess.

Obvious | 917 words ☕

"Oh, I have a prompt! So, it makes me laugh how painfully obvious Steve and Bucky's feelings are to everyone when they're in that pining, slowburn, does-he-doesn't-he phase. But imagine Steve and Bucky working in a coffee shop together and constantly bickering, nudging and playfully flirting with each other. And all the employees and patrons are so invested in their relationship and just want them to kiss already but no one realizes that Steve and Bucky have been married since they got out of HS."

#stucky #steve rogers/bucky barnes #bucky barnes/steve rogers #stucky fics #stucky fic #stucky fic rec #stucky fic recs #stucky fics rec #stucky fics recs #stucky fan fiction #stucky fiction #stucky ao3 #stucky complete #stucky au #adorable stucky fics

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baroquebucky · 3 years

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fundraisers

bucky finds love where he least expects it

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

a/n: hi bffs i am back w my usual fluff ,, i hope u all enjoy !! let me know what u all think ! a fundraiser? more like raising buckys heart rate ! (I’m funny please laugh)

“it’ll be fun! It’s for a fundraiser and my friend is counting on us” Sam spoke, “and plus when was the last time you went to an arcade?” He questioned and bucky rolled his eyes.

“I’m 106 i don’t go to arcades” bucky grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and looking to the side. Sam rolled his eyes, walking over and sitting down next to his friend.

“Cmon buck y/n will kill me if you don’t show up, she already promised who know how many people that we’d show up” sam frowned and bucky looked at him angrily.

“fine whatever” bucky agreed reluctantly, “but I’m leaving after the first hour” he added quickly and sam smiled at him, knowing he would end up staying the whole time.

“you’ll get along just fine” Sam smiled, “the easiest thing you can do in life is fall in love with y/n y/l/n” bucky rolled his eyes. Fat chance.

“When is it anyway” bucky asked, sam gave him a toothy grin before replying, “tonight at 6! See you there at 5!” He spoke quickly, rushing out of the super soldier’s apartment before he could suffer the consequences.

Bucky groaned, his hands flying to his face before he checked the time, he had three hours before he had to head out.

You were giddy, it was your first fundraiser for your new nonprofit, posters spread around the arcade in hopes of reaching your goal. You expected a larger crowd tonight, the buzz of Captain America and The Winter Soldier making a guest appearance made your heart race.

You smiled as you saw bucky walk in at 5:30, you checked yourself out in the mirror next to you before walking towards him with a smile.

“Mr. Barnes! hi I’m y/n” you grinned, holding out your hand. He shook it lightly before giving you a tight smile, looking around for Sam.

“uh, wheres sam? He said he would be here by now” he asked you let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head.

“he’ll probably get here at like 5:30, he’s always late” you smiled and bucky laughed a little, the sound making your smile widen.

“I’ll let you go change into your suit, the restrooms are right over there” you smiled and bucky nodded, heading towards the restrooms, bag in hand with his suit.

Before you knew it people were filing in, Sam running out just in the nick of time to stand next to bucky.

As everyone met and took pictures with the two avengers you made small talk with some business people, giving out information about your fundraiser and graciously accepting donations left and right. You skipped over to the giant whiteboard near the prizes, smiling widely throughout the night as you colored in the box closer to the goal. Bucky smiled at how excited you were, he admired how passionate you seemed about your project.

The night progressed and you finished making rounds with most of the visitors, many people taking interest in how to help and spreading the word online. You finally let yourself relax, heading over to Sam and bucky who had already changed back to regular clothes and were sitting by the restaurant area.

“how’d it go?” You smiled at sam, ordering a water quickly.

“it was good, lots of people” he spoke, “my cheeks hurt from smiling, can’t imagine how hard it was for this guy” he teased bucky, nudging him with his elbow. Bucky frowned at sam, sitting up a bit straighter.

“i smile all the time” bucky spoke gruffly, “I’m a happy guys I’ll have you know” he turned his attention to you, smiling for a second.

“i never said you weren’t happy” sam shot back and you smiled as the two friends bickered.

“You implied it!” Bucky frowned and you laughed.

“okay notes break it up” you sighed, smiling as you finished your bottle of water. “any one wanna get their ass handed to them in air hockey?”

Sams eyes widened and he shook his head quickly, you groaned. Bucky looked at him confused, squinting his eyes a little.

“no way” sam replied and you pouted.

“why not?” You frowned, bucky was quiet as he observed the two of you.

“you’re a whole different person when you play!” Sam continued to shake his head, eating some of the fries bucky ordered, earning him a small angry ‘hey’ from the metal armed man.

“oh they can’t be that bad surely” bucky smiled at you, the frown on your face quickly replaced with a grin as you grabbed his metal hand and dragged him towards the air hockey table.

“oh god” sam mumbled, getting up from his seat and following the two of you through the crowd.

“you know how to play?” you asked bucky and he nodded. You handed him a paddle, and grabbed the puck, slipping in some coins and smiling brightly.

“for the record i am on Buckys team, simply out of spite” Sam spoke loudly, still eating Buckys fries.

“you’re eating all my fries!” Bucky grumbled and Sam rolled his eyes, shoving another handful of fries into his mouth.

“ready?” You asked and bucky nodded, you hit the puck gently, easing into the game. Bucky stuck it quickly, a smirk on his face as it smoothly went in. Your mouth dropped open as he scored.

“from what Sam said i thought you were better than that doll” bucky smirked, you felt butterflies in your stomach but you shoved them down, determined to beat him.

“was gonna go easy on you considering you might break your back trying to get the puck” you shot back, sams mouth wide open at your comment. Bucky smirked, you were witty and cute?

You took the puck and placed it down, hitting it quickly and bouncing it off the walls of the table, bucky strikes it quickly, you managed to hit it back before he scored and landed it cleanly in the goal. You smiled in satisfaction.

1-1

“glad to know you can score” bucky teased, hitting the puck, both of you focused on the game as you spoke.

“glad to know you won’t get a heart attack trying to keep up, old man” Sam watched from the side, eating the fries and enjoying the entertainment.

“i keep up quite well sweetheart” bucky replied, hitting the puck sharply and scoring, your eyes met and he smirked. You narrowed your eyes at him, grabbing the puck and hitting it quickly, he bounced it off the wall and you struck back without hesitation, the two of you going back and forth before you stuck the puck softly, catching him off guard before hitting it again and scoring.

“we’ll see about that james” your tone was sharp, bucky was taken back at the venom in your voice, looking at Sam with wide eyes.

“i warned you” the man chuckled, eating the last couple fries.

Bucky turned back to the game, both of you fiercely trying to score on the other.

“cmon thought you were a super soldier? cant use that extra strength to beat me?” You teased as you scored, bucky rolling his eyes at your tone.

“want me to put it to good use?” Buckys voice got deeper and you gulped a little, your Kees growing weak. He smirked and placed the puck on the table, your eyes unfocused as you thought of the tone of his voice. He scored easily, winning at you. “cats got your tongue?”

Your competitive nature got the best of you, anger rising in your chest as you saw the score, 9-8. You need two points to win, no way he was gonna beat you.

You set the puck down on the table, hitting it as soon as bucky tried to score again, not giving him time to move, a smile on your face as you heard it slide into the goal.

9-9

Bucky was silent as he set the puck down again, hitting it quickly, you were quick to react, bouncing it off the wall and into his own paddle. As bucky tried to move back to block the puck, he accidentally hit the puck with his paddle, causing it to slide into the goal and score on himself.

“i thought you could keep up?” You whined, pouting a bit before smirking at him proudly. Bucky bit his lip as the machine announced your win. You smiled at him as he set the paddle on the table, winking at him before turning around and telling Sam you were gonna go to the restroom.

Bucky was left in awe as you walked away, his mouth slightly agape. Sam smirked at the man, patting his shoulder as they walked to their table again.

“you like them dont you” Sam smiled and bucky looked at him like he was crazy.

“wha- me? No! i just met them!” Bucky protested and Sam rolled his eyes.

“as if you guys weren’t flirting that whole game?” Sam laughed and bucky shook his head.

“isn’t that how they talk to you when you guys play?” Sam widened his eyes and shook his head.

“oh god no i wish, last time they called me a bird brain!” Sam frowned and bucky laughed, “and then they said, ‘had known you were gonna play like this, i would’ve stayed home, it’s the same as playing with a fish’”

Bucky couldn’t stop the fit of laughter as Sam frowned at all the things you told him during the game, smiling slightly as he remembered the way you apologized after, hugging him and kissing his cheek and offering to buy him all the food he wanted.

“what’s so funny?” You asked, a smile on your face as you slid into the seat next to sam.

“just telling bucky all the things you say when we play” sam spoke and your face turned red.

“I’m really sorry, i hope i didn’t hurt your feelings or anything” you smiled softly and bucky shook his head.

“oh no I’m fine i get it” he smiled at you and you nodded, stomach in knots as you thought back to his words. Your throat went dry and you looked at him, quickly glancing to your hands. It didn’t go unnoticed by bucky though.

“actually, that super strength comment kinda hurt” he frowned slightly, trying his best to look genuinely hurt. You looked at him with wide eyes, frowning at his words.

“really? I’m sorry i didn’t mean it i swear, I’ll do anything to make it up to you” you spoke quickly, guilt washing over you.

“going on a date would make me feel so much better” bucky smiled and your mouth dropped, a smile on your face as you realized he was just messing with you.

You crossed your arms over chest as Sam smirked at bucky, proudly looking at him.

“if you wanted to ask me out you could’ve just said so sergeant” you smiled and bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“where’s the fun in that doll face” the two of you kept eye contact or a while, you wanted to just lean over the table and kiss him, bucky wanted nothing more than to crash his lips onto yours. Sam wanted more fries.

“is that a yes then?” Bucky asked and you were quiet for a moment before speaking up.

“maybe it is” you quipped, “depends” you smiled, making Sam shake his head as he realized where this was gonna go.

“depends on what?” Bucky questioned, cocking his head to the side as the smile on your face grew.

“how good are you at basketball?” You questioned, already getting up to head to the game, hand slipping into Bucky’s and pulling him behind you.

You were gonna be the death of him, but he didn’t mind it one bit.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #soft bucky barnes #flirty bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic

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waywardmoeyy · 3 years

Text

4am Food Coma

Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 1,784

Warnings: insomnia, just some familial fluff.

A/N: This is as much of a feel-good story as I can write late at night. Haha. I hope you all like it!

My Master List

You sighed as you stared at the drab bunker ceiling. Your body was practically aching from exhaustion, but you mind was racing. Random, deep-rooted memories flashed through you, some causing your heart to pound with regret. This lifestyle had really been taking a toll on you lately, and you knew it was only going to get worse.

You pulled the scratchy, plaid blanket up to your chin and sighed. You could go back to your room, but Dean was snoring to heavily on the other side of the wall. You typically fell asleep before him, but tonight, you just couldn’t get your mind to shut off.

Grabbing your phone beside you, you unlocked the screen and checked the time. 3:34am.

“Well, shit,” you muttered to yourself with another sigh. There was no way you were going to get any sleep at this point. You had promised Sam that, in the morning, you would go with him to some outdoor clothing store a few towns over, and he was always up at the ass crack of dawn. So, that meant you probably only had an hour or so of time to get any sort of shut eye.

The tip-tap of heavy feet approached you from behind the couch. You turned toward the noise, sitting up a little to peer over the back of the couch. In the scarce light, you found your oldest brother approaching you.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing up, sweetheart?” Dean asked, shooting you a concerned look. You sighed and leaned back onto your makeshift pillow.

“My mind has decided that now is a great time to replay every horrible thing that’s happened in every hunt I can remember. It’s making me nuts. You know me, I’m the one who is always saying that what’s in the past can’t be changed, just let it go. I’m not usually one to dwell, but here I am.” You watched Dean as he plopped down on the edge of the couch, lightly leaning against your feet.

“Sounds like a helluva nightmare, Y/N. Anything I can do to help?” That was a great question, and usually the one you were asking your brothers. You pursed your lips, then gently shook your head.

“I dunno. I think I just need some sort of distraction. I’ve tried watching TV, but my mind just drifts off into another world.” You rolled your eyes. “And I promised Sam I’d go to that store he loves. He wants to leave early. I’m going to be a zombie.”

Dean chuckled as he watched you, probably laughing at the dark rings that were undoubtedly plaguing your eyes. He patted your ankles and smiled.

“I have an idea. Grab a sweatshirt and meet me at the car.” You furrowed your brow as you watched him launch to his feet.

“Wha-wait. What? No. I’m not going out like this. Dean, it’s almost four in the morning! Where are we going?” You slid out from under your blanket. You were clad in baggy pajama pants covered in cat silhouettes, and a tank top that absolutely did not match. Not to mention the quarter sized hole under your right armpit.

“Relax, Bitz, no one’s going to care where were going. Just grab a sweatshirt and some shoes. You have five minutes.” You rolled your eyes at your big brother. He was always up to some sort of shenanigans. But, the two of you were a lot alike, so you usually trusted his crazy schemes.

“Fine, but I’m not going to say I’m excited until I know where we’re going.”

“Calm down, Bitz. You’ll like it.” Bitz, short for Itsy Bitsy, was the nickname Dean gave you when you were too young to talk. Since you were the youngest, and quite obviously the smallest, he thought it was funny. But over three decades later, he still called you by that nickname more than he ever used your real one.

One more unsure sigh left your lungs before you turned towards your room, in search of a jacket.

“I remember there was a place just like this in Omaha. We always stopped when we drove through. I totally forgot this place was here.” You peered down at the menu of the dodgy diner. Dean sat across from you, studying the same menu.

The two of you sat in the corner of the small eatery, only joined by an older man at the bar, obviously a trucker, and a homeless man drifting off on the other side of the building, still half-clutching a cup of coffee.

Dean smiled and nodded, peering up from his menu. “Yeah, it hasn’t changed a bit. It’s like they are all exactly the same. Still better than Biggerson’s, though.” You laughed.

“Yeah, definitely. Their milkshakes are the best! I’m hoping they still are.”

Dean grinned. “Well, let’s find out. I’m not going to eat a big meal then go back to sleep. But, I’ll never deny an Oreo milkshake.” Dean slammed his menu shut and nodded. “What’s your poison? No, wait, lemme guess. Mint chocolate chip?”

Your eyes lit up. You hadn’t had a mint chocolate chip milkshake in years. Most places in the middle of nowhere didn’t have that flavor. Vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry, you cold almost hear a waiter say in their ‘I don’t want to freaking be here’ tone. But this small chain in the center of the country had them, and they were heavenly.

“It’s like you know me or something!” you teased him, before closing your own menu.

Dean chuckled as he eyed the server as they approached your table. “It’s like we’re related.” He winked, before turning to the exhausted young man. He couldn’t have been older that twenty.

“What can I get you?” he droned, his eyes half open. You glanced over at your brother, then back to the young man.

“A mint chocolate chip milkshake please,” you beamed. You smiled, realizing that you were already starting to feel better. You watched as Dean ordered, feeling like you didn’t have a care in the world for the first time in a while.

You all had been hunting for months without any sort of real break. No wonder your mind was on the verge of exploding. You definitely needed to have more breaks and distractions to counterbalance the violent, crazy crap you dealt with day in and day out. But, your brothers were work horses, so that always proved a little difficult.

“Hey, do you think drinking a giant, sugary milkshake is going to be the solution to get me to sleep?” you realized, leaning back in your heavily cracked booth.

Dean shrugged. “Sugar actually helps in a weird way. You eat or drink a bunch of it, fill yourself with sugar, then crash and sleep. Or, the shear amount of food will put you in some type of food-induced coma.” You nodded slowly. It did make sense, weirdly enough.

“Do you think that’s the healthiest thing to do?”

“No, Bitz. But it doesn’t hurt every once in a while. It’s healthier than pulling an all-nighter, then running all around town the next day.” That was true. Plus, there was no way you were going to say no to sugar, whether it was just before sunrise, or sunset. You hadn’t hopped onto Sam’s kale salad bandwagon quite yet.

Within minutes, the server returned with your glorious milkshakes, and a full refill container. The moment your treat was placed down in front of you, you smiled up at your brother in thanks.

The next twenty minutes were quiet, other than the ravenous slurps that came from your straws. Dean finished a few minutes before you, instantly leaning back in his seat.

“Holy shit, that hit the spot.” He smiled as he closed his eyes, instantly in a food coma. You giggled.

“How you didn’t get a single brain freeze baffles me,” you teased, scooting your cup a little closer. A thin line of red light beamed along the horizon, reminding you that you had basically pulled an all-nighter. But, you didn’t care nearly as much as you did before. A sense of peace had enveloped you, or maybe it was the beginning of your own food coma. Either way, you felt a heck of a lot better.

“Thanks, Dean,” you whispered, offering a frozen smile. Dean returned the gesture and nodded.

“Hey, it worked when we were kids. I was sure it was going to work now.” You furrowed your brow.

“What?”

“Yeah, when we came to one of these as kids, Dad would let us order milkshakes. I know you remember. But, what you probably don’t remember is that once you got back in the car, you were out like a light. I don’t even know if the sugar ever got a chance to get to you. I think it was just the comfort food or somethin’.” Dean laughed.

Now that you thought of it, you didn’t really remember the ride afterwards. You just remember waking up just after sunrise, either in the car or arriving home. And, well, that would explain why.

You closed your eyes for a minute, feeling the intense fullness in your stomach. Maybe you were skipping the sugar high yet again, and satiety was leading you straight to real exhaustion.

“Wow, you’re a lightweight,” Dean poked as he lifted from his seat, tossing some money onto the table. You huffed out a chuckle, a little too tired to come up with a witty comeback. “C’mon kid, let’s get you home. You’re going to need some sleep if Sam is going to drag you all over hell tomorrow—uh, today.”

You nodded as you slowly slid out from behind the table. Your brother was already five steps ahead of you, stomping his way towards the door. You slowly followed behind, smiling as you watched him toss a five-dollar bill onto the sleeping homeless man’s table. Then, he opened the door, and waited for you to exit with him.

The moment you settled into your seat, you leaned your head back, resting your head on the top of the back rest. Your eyes were heavy, and your body was practically deadweight. Dean peered over at you as the engine roared to life. He patted your shoulder before putting the car in gear and heading for home.

A long, shuddered sigh left you as you settled into your seat. It was going to be a good twenty minutes or so before you were home. But, your eyes weren’t going to stay open for that long. So, you closed them as you yawned. Within moments, sleep slowly enveloped you, and you weren’t going to fight.

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musette22 · 4 years

Text

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet

You Make My Heart Skip a Beet

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (Stucky)

Word count: 3.8k

Rating: Teen and Up

A/N: Based on this lovely prompt by @greyhoundsgirl. I have to be honest here, I’ve never actually seen Top Chef though so I thought it would be safer to make up a new fictional amateur cooking competition which I’ve titled Chef Wars :p

No warnings to speak of, apart from maybe for awful food puns, but it is a bit of a cracky piece, and it’s in Sam POV (poor guy). Hope you enjoy!! 💗 Huge thanks to the amazing @rainbowsandcoconut for brainstorming, food puns and awesome beta’ing, as usual 😘

Read on AO3

Summary:

“I made soda bread.”

Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.”

The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

****************************

When Sam and Steve had first been approached about being guest judges on an Avengers-themed special of Chef Wars, they’d spent a full fifteen minutes jumping around the common room in the Tower like a pair of overgrown kids on a sugar high.

Guest judges. On Chef Wars.

It so happens that Sam and Steve watch Chef Wars religiously. In fact, Steve even mentioned this in passing in one or two of his more recent interviews when asked how Captain America likes to spend his downtime, which is probably how the show’s executives had thought to invite them in the first place.

Sam’s love for cooking and cooking shows was passed down to him by his mother Darlene, and he, in turn, passed it on to Captain America – though if you’d told ten-year-old Sam that, he would’ve thought you were nuts. Poor Steve isn’t exactly the culinary sort of guy himself, but once Sam started turning up on his doorstep three nights a week to keep him company and make sure he didn’t sink further into depression, he’d slowly started to enjoy the shows Sam insisted on watching with him. Sam figured the familiarity of the actions and the low stakes of an amateur cooking competition would be perfectly suited to someone trying to integrate into a new century, while still being just exciting enough to hold the attention of an adrenaline junkie like Steve.

And he was right. So now, every Thursday night, the two of them chill on Steve’s couch, yelling at the TV and pretending they‘d do a better job of it than the contestants. Which, to be fair, Sam probably would, but Steve decidedly would not. What Steve lacks in culinary skills, though, he more than makes up for with his crazy supersoldier metabolism, rivaled only by the Other Guy and sometimes Thor, once he’s cracked open the mead. Steve can eat, and he does so with relish.

So needless to say, when they got the invite, they’d both jumped at the chance. Who wouldn’t, when presented with the opportunity to do the thing they did every Thursday night for funsies, but this time for realsies? And after weeks of giddy anticipation, today is finally the day.

Filming day.

The whole thing had gotten off to an excellent start. The sun was shining, Steve had actually been whistling on their way to the studio instead of nervously drumming his fingers on the dashboard (something which got on Sam’s nerves like nothing else), and they’d been offered some quality Italian espresso when they arrived. The show got on the road as soon as they’d gotten a quick tour of the studio, and after lights, camera, action, the contestants were introduced one by one.

There is Bernadette, a Missouri housewife who turned out to be somewhat of a BBQ expert and who reminds Sam of his Aunt Jenna; there’s Bob, a big, burly dude from Kentucky who wouldn’t look amiss on a Pro Wrestling show but who ends up surprising them all with a surprisingly delicate edible flower-dish dedicated to his lovely wife; and Yulia, a tiny, fierce girl from Bulgaria with some mean knife skills who Sam suspects could very well be a distant relative of Natasha’s.

And then there’s Bucky Barnes.

Bucky Barnes is a thirty-one-year-old physical therapist from Brooklyn who’s looking to change careers and get into the restaurant business full time. He has that whole hipster vibe going on: long, meticulously conditioned chestnut hair in a messy top knot, designer stubble, sleeve of – admittedly awesome – tattoos on his left arm. His cool, blue eyes and sharp cheekbones give him a model-like appearance, and yet there’s something soft and disarming about him.

Steve certainly seems to think so, at least.

The moment Barnes came walking through those glass doors, Sam heard Steve suck in a sharp breath at his side. A quick glance at Steve’s slack-jawed expression told Sam all he needed to know, since the dude is about as subtle as a sledgehammer. He’d elbowed Steve in the side until he looked over and pretended to wipe some drool from the corner of his mouth. Steve’s eyes went wide as he hastily mirrored the movement, missing the joke by about fifty yards. Oh, boy.

From that moment onward, Steve’s brain seemed to have gone through a blender, turning it into a rainbow smoothie – which was pretty unfortunate, considering they were going to have to interact with the contestants in a way that was suitable for daytime television.

The thing is, Steve is not exactly what you’d call a people person at the best of times. He’s fine with someone he’s known for a while and feels comfortable with, but with strangers he’s just… a little awkward. Credit where credit’s due, Steve is one of the most loyal, sweet, funny and whip-smart guys Sam has ever known – and let’s not forget stubborn as hell – but he’s also very, very bad at social cues. It’s not his fault, of course. Steve had gone from growing up pretty isolated without any real friends to speak of, to suddenly spending years surrounded only by his army buddies, which wasn’t at all representative for how normal people interacted with each other (Sam knows this from experience).

While Steve’s many social faux-pas are an endless source of entertainment for Sam, he’s not a total asshole, and he has tried to help Steve practice his social skills. Unfortunately, giving him well-meaning advice like “just be yourself” seems to be a sure-fire way to ensure Steve will put his foot in his mouth somehow.

That’s why Steve prefers to put on his Cap persona for public interactions. When he’s Captain America instead of Steve Rogers, all he has to do is look commanding and sort of friendly and say bland things like “I’m very happy to be here” and “You did well, son” and no one would be any the wiser that beneath that righteous exterior, Steve was floundering and wondering when he could reasonably leave whatever social engagement Pepper had sweet-talked him into attending, and head home to the comfort of his armchair and his sketchbook.

For today’s engagement, Steve had wisely adopted this approach as well, and the fact that he was genuinely excited to be there helped to loosen him up a little – so really, it should’ve all been fine.

But then Bucky Barnes from Brooklyn walked into the room and turned his big, blue eyes in Steve’s direction, and Steve promptly seemed to forget who or what a Captain America even was.

So far, Steve has already missed his cue twice, and it’s taken Sam stepping on his toes to get him to focus. To be fair, though, Steve puts in a valiant effort to pull himself together, managing to ooh and aah in all the right places when talking to the other candidates – sheer dumb luck, if you ask Sam. But as Steve’s best friend and confidante, Sam sees right through it. He hasn’t missed the way Steve’s gaze keeps drifting in Barnes’ direction, and coupled with the blush creeping up the back of Steve’s neck whenever Barnes’s eyes meet his, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Cap has got himself a Manhattan-sized crush.

Now, most people probably aren’t aware that Captain America is also attracted to men, but Sam has a feeling that by the end of this episode, that cat will be most definitely out of the closet. Steve’s never purposely hid his sexuality; it was more of a question of it never having come up yet. It sure as hell has come up now.

And what makes this even better is that Barnes is just as bad. He stuttered his way through his introduction, very obviously starstruck at meeting Captain America, but also very obviously gay as hell for him, if the way his eyes lingered on Steve’s chest and thighs is any indication. Sam, for his part, is incredibly amused by it all. Not only does he get to be on the set of his favorite cooking show, he also gets to rib Steve, throwing in as many food puns as he possibly can – most of which go over Steve’s head because he’s too busy drooling over Barnes. Sam’s wit is wasted on his friends.

Then, it’s time to judge. In the first round, the contestants are supposed to make something which represents why they got into cooking in the first place.

Sam can feel Steve practically vibrate with nerves at his side as they walk up to Barnes’ station. Feeling magnanimous, Sam decides to have mercy on his muscly pal and take the lead on this one.

“Mr. Barnes,” he says, giving Barnes an encouraging smile. “Tell us about your dish, if you please.”

“Call me Bucky,” Barnes says, returning the gesture with a quick quirk of his lips.

Next to him, Steve repeats the name in a whisper, most likely unaware that he’s even doing it.

Sam has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking.

*****

Bucky’s confessional

“I grew up in Brooklyn, as the eldest of five kids. My dad left when I was fifteen, and while I was still in school, my mom had to work three jobs to provide for us all. She wasn’t home much, so it was kind of up to me to make sure dinner was on the table most nights.”

Bucky plucks at the seam of his black skinny jeans, lost in thought. “I think that’s why my specialty is comfort food. Nothing unnecessary, just hearty, nutritious food, y’know?” With a tilt of his head, he adds, “Although since all my siblings moved into their own places I’ve been cooking mostly for myself and my cat, so I’ve been experimenting with adding some twists to my tried and tested recipes.” He laughs, right hand clasping the back of his neck in a bashful gesture. “I’ve had… mixed success. Luckily Alpine has loved all of it. She’s my cat.”

“My first dish today is Irish soda bread with sage butter and Himalayan sea salt,” Bucky continues. “Bread was something we could never have enough of in our household. Five growing kids, y’know? And also, um...” A slight blush creeps its way onto Bucky’s cheeks, his eyes flitting around nervously. “Well, I guess you could say I used to be a bit of a history nerd growing up. I was super interested in World War II, particularly, uh, Captain America.” His blush deepens, spreading upwards from the neckline of his white t-shirt to the tips of his pierced ears.

“I, uh, I basically read every Steve Rogers biography I could get my hands on, which is why I learned to make things like soda bread because, y’know, Steve Rogers was Irish. Is Irish,” he corrects himself. Bucky’s eyes glaze over, taking on a faraway look. “Man, I couldn’t believe it when Cap was found a few years ago,” he marvels, “and alive. I don’t think I slept for a week after I found out.” He stares into space for a moment before shaking himself. He clears his throat, eyes refocusing on the person behind the camera. “Anyway, so when I heard that Chef Wars was doing an Avengers-themed special, I immediately applied because Steve – Cap, I mean- Captain America. Um. Yeah, so Cap mentioned in a few of his interviews that he watches Chef Wars, so I figured there would be a good chance he’d be watching this one too, you know? And then I got the email that I’d been selected and that he was going to be the one judging us, and I just…” Bucky trails off, looking a little faint, the blood draining from his face as quickly as it had risen.

“God, I just can’t believe I’ll finally get to see him in the flesh.” His eyes widen. “In person, I mean," he hastily amends. "And I’m excited about my dishes too, of course. I really hope Cap will like them. And the Falcon. Him, too. Yeah.”

*****

“I made soda bread.”

The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

When Steve puts a piece of bread into his mouth and chews slowly, he sniffs, eyes turning a little watery. “It tastes exactly like my mom’s,” he says in a hushed voice, sounding like he can’t quite believe his taste buds. Sam pats Steve’s back consolingly, before scooping up some sage butter with his own piece of bread and taking an enthusiastic bite.

“Hmm, nice,” he says, giving Barnes an appreciative nod. “And the butter? You make that yourself, too?”

“You butter believe it,” Barnes replies, then immediately looks horrified, like he can’t believe he made a pun that bad on national television.

Sam cackles, holding out his fist for Barnes to bump. When Barnes has recovered enough to return the gesture with his left hand, Steve stares longingly at their touching hands, before letting his gaze trail over the tattoos on Barnes’ exposed forearm. Since he's not exactly subtle about it, Barnes catches him looking and gives Steve a tentative smile when their eyes meet. Steve chokes on absolutely nothing and launches into an impromptu coughing fit. “Crumbs,” he wheezes, thumping a massive fist on his massive chest, “wrong pipe.”

Sam just smirks at him, before turning back to Barnes. “That was delicious,” he tells him. “Can’t wait for your next dish, man.”

“Really, really, good,” Steve chimes in once he’s caught his breath. “Well done, Bucky.”

Barnes goes as red as a tomato, eyes trained on the floor as he awkwardly shifts from foot to foot. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Steve, please,” Steve implores.

Barnes bites his lip, looking up at Steve through his lashes. “Thanks, Steve.”

Sam's pretty sure Steve stops breathing altogether right then. Christ, it’s like there’s an electrical current running between the two of them, the air crackling with it. Thunderbolts and lighting, very very nauseating.

Sam claps his hands. “Right,” he says loudly, “moving on to the next contestant now… Yulia, what have you prepared for us?”

*****

By the time the second round rolls around, Steve has had a series of meltdowns and Sam has spent precious time he could’ve been exploring the set and taking pics for his mom on talking Steve out of a bathroom stall. Damn, he’s a good friend. It takes all of Sam’s VA-honed therapist skills to convince Steve that he’s doing fine, he’s not embarrassing himself, and no one but Sam has noticed Steve’s massive heart boner for Barnes yet. Sam actually isn’t entirely positive about that last one – or the first two for that matter – but Steve doesn’t need to know that. There are still two rounds to go.

In the second round, contestants are asked to make a dish that represents who they are as a person.

While the contestants are cooking up a metaphorical storm, Sam and Steve walk around their stations to chat with everyone some more, camera crew on their heels. Steve manages to get out at least three complete sentences, and Bernadette and Bob are too in awe of him to notice the few times he says something that doesn’t actually make any sense. Yulia has given no indication that she even knows who either of them are, and Sam can practically feel the relief radiating off of Steve. He guesses that’s part of why he and Natasha get on so well.

When they round on Barnes’ station, Barnes has just started seasoning his dish. There’s a checkered dishcloth slung over his right shoulder and a focused look on his face, which turns into one of low-key stress the moment he spots Steve and Sam coming towards him. Leaning his hip against the counter, Sam settles in to watch Steve make a fool of himself. He's not disappointed.

“Wow,” Steve says inanely, gesturing in the direction of Barnes’ hands. “That’s- you’re- you’re really good at that.”

Barnes pauses his turning of the peppermill to give Steve a slightly panicked look. “At… grinding?”

At Steve’s strangled cough, Barnes seems to realize what he just said, his bewildered expression morphing into one of abject mortification. The poor guy looks like he’d very much like the ground to swallow him whole right about now.

Honestly, these two deserve each other.

When they've finished chatting to everyone and it’s time to taste, Barnes is asked to explain his dish and how it represents him. He seems to have pulled himself together somewhat since their last encounter, his stance a little more confident now and his eyes only drifting to Steve’s pecs every other sentence.

“I’m a simple guy,” he tells them, somehow managing to make it sound genuine instead of cliché. “I enjoy the little things in life. I like taking care of people, making them feel good and comfortable, and I think that’s reflected in my cooking. I enjoy making comfort food, the hale and hearty stuff.” He licks his lips, meaningfully adding, “Although, don’t get me wrong. I do indulge occasionally. I’ve got my guilty pleasures same as everyone else, y'know?” That last part is directed at Steve, who nods dazedly, like he knows exactly what Barnes means. Gross.

“So I guess you could say you’re just… arugula guy?” Sam grins, cheerfully ignoring the growing sexual tension.

Barnes stares at him for a beat, and then snorts. “You know what?” he says, returning Sam's grin, “the s’more I get to know you, the s’more I like you.”

Sam has a very real moment where he thinks he might actually fall in love with this guy himself. It’s only Steve’s doe-eyed look that keeps him from proposing to Barnes there and then. Okay, and maybe the fact that Barnes is clearly smitten with Steve, and also Sam is straight and very happily dating Nat, who would not hesitate to gut him if he decided to elope with some pasty hipster dude.

Barnes’ dish – mac and cheese with black truffle and locally sourced cheeses and fancy cuts of bacon – is mouthwateringly good, and Sam tells him as much. Using appropriate words to do so. You know, like a normal person.

Steve, on the other hand, moans loudly around his bite and then, mouth still full, he blurts, “That’s exactly what I thought you’d taste like.”

In the painfully awkward silence that follows, Steve and Barnes blush so hard the combined heat of their flaming cheeks could probably power most of New York City. This time, Sam can’t contain his laughter. He crows as he gleefully slaps his thighs, and even some of the crew is hiding having a hard time staying professional in the face of such blatant dumbassery.

Shaking his head, Sam grabs Steve by the bicep and herds him towards the backroom. “Come on, Casanova,” he says. “Let’s get you some ice for those burns.”

*****

For dessert, Barnes goes all out.

He actually makes Captain America cake pops, shaped and decorated like Steve’s shield with blue, red and white frosting. Steve’s eyes almost bug out of his head when he sees them. Barnes explains how they’re “sort of an adult version” of normal cake pops, which makes Sam raise an eyebrow. He’s been on the internet. He unfortunately has seen adult versions of all kinds of Captain America paraphernalia. Fortunately, Barnes just means that his cake pops have some sort of liquor in the center, “for a punch, you know?”

The starry-eyed look Steve gives Barnes clearly conveys just how clever he thinks that is, and Sam surreptitiously rolls his eyes. No game whatsoever, either of them.

“I’ve never had a cake pop before,” Steve says, carefully picking up one of the treats and inspecting it curiously.

“Oh,” Barnes says, blinking at him. “Well, normally you’d eat them in one go, but these are a bit bigger than usual because of the shape of the shield, so you probably won’t be able to fit -”

The rest of his sentence sort of peters off into a stunned silence as Steve proceeds to stick a whole-ass giant cake pop in his mouth in one go, letting out an appreciative grunt as he chews and then swallows.

Barnes’s mouth goes slack. “Oh my god,” he breathes, his eyes glazing over, and Sam cracks up. Again.

The cake pops are actually surprisingly good, despite their garish (sorry, Steve) appearance, and then it’s time to retreat and deliberate. As was to be expected, Steve has a crisis of conscience.

“I can’t vote for him just because he made my mom’s soda bread and he practically raised his baby sisters by himself and he cooks for his cat and he has pretty eyes, Sam!” he laments, voice muffled into his massive forearms. Sam makes the filming crew promise not to air this bit. It takes some doing, but finally Sam manages to convince Steve that Barnes’s food was simply the best. Better than all the rest. He even does a little Tina impression to get his point across, and that seems to do it.

When they announce the winner, Barnes smiles so wide it transforms his whole face and makes Steve melt into a puddle of Gü.

Sam has to nudge Steve again to get him to say his line, since he’s too busy mooning over Barnes to notice the autocue changing. “Ah, yes!” Steve says loudly. “First prize is a substantial sum of money, sponsored by Tony Stark, which we hope will go towards opening your own restaurant–"

“… and a weekend stay at Avengers Tower, also sponsored by Tony!”

Steve’s head whips around to him in surprise. Sam winks at him. “Including a private tour of the premises by none other than Captain America himself. Isn’t that right, Steven?”

A beat of silence, and then Steve.exe starts back up. "Right,” he nods, drawing out the word. “Yes. That’s right.” Sam pats his arm. Good man.

Stepping forward, Steve takes Barnes’ hand and shakes it slowly. “Congratulations, Bucky. I look forward to seeing you again soon," he says, adding, after a quick, bracing inhale, “and maybe when you visit, I can make my mom’s stew for you? If- if you like?”

Sam feels a surge of pride. Look at Steve go, being something almost in the vicinity of smooth.

Barnes laps it up, beaming at Steve. “I’d really love that,” he says in a low voice, still holding Steve's hand. “I’m sure you’re delicious.” His eyes widen. “It’s delicious. The stew – not- not-" Abruptly, Barnes stops babbling, then seems to come to a decision. “Oh, fuck it,” he mutters, and pulls Steve towards him, crashing their mouths together in a scorching kiss.

Over the noise of the assembled crowd's whoops and cheers, Sam gleefully calls, “And that, my friends, is a wrap!”

#stucky #stevebucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #shrunkyclunks #meet cute #fluff #top chef #chef bucky barnes #my fic #my writing #ao3 #sam wilson pov

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valkyrieskwad · 4 years

Text

here ya go, have some like, awkward college baby gays.

when sam planned out her apology, the last person she expected to answer kara's door was lena. as in, lena from the halloween party who she had sex with. but, there she is. wearing nothing but kara's flannel, looking pretty and fucking soft. this is the first time sam's seen her up close in good lighting, not drunk off her ass, and all she can focus on are her eyes. they're different colors.

"hello?" lena says after a second.

right. "is kara here?" sam asks. it's too aggressive, but she feels a little off-kilter looking at lena. she's here to apologize, though, she reminds herself. "can you tell her i'm not here to fight, and i know she hears me."

"she's actually not here," lena says, stepping out of the way to pull the door open wider. "but you're welcome to come in and wait for her. it's good to see you. you look really good."

"you remember me?" sam asks, like a fucking idiot. lena laughs a little. "right," she gushes, scratching at the back of her neck. she steps inside the room and lets lena shut the door behind her. it feels easier talking when she's not making eye contact. "i didn’t mean it that way. it's just that you're—"

"don't say something dumb," lena cuts her off. "i like you, don't ruin it."

sam fights the urge to repeat you like me incredulously. instead, she walks over to take a seat on kara's bed and tries not to think too much about sitting on kara's bed. where kara probably had sex with lena. maybe even right before this. of course, she's still managing to think about it. "so, you and kara. you a thing or something?"

lena shrugs, leans her hip against the standard edition dorm room desk. "or something."

there's a really awkward pause. then, "cool," is what sam finally says.

lena smiles, eyes glistening in a way that makes sam feel transparent. she clears her throat. "i’d love to be, but i’m pretty sure she's holding out for a thing with you, and i somehow got caught in the middle of this."

"what?" sam coughs. the only thing between kara and her is animosity; maybe even hate. she doesn't even think about kara outside of that. in fact, she spends most of her day Not Thinking About Kara. "did she say that?"

it comes out more curious than she intends it, which lena definitely notices. "more or less."

sam can't tell if lena's fucking with her, but the room feels too hot now. "in those words? like, she likes me?"

that one even comes out hopeful. lena's picking up every little nuance; sam can see it on her face. "you can discuss it when she gets back."

"no, i -" she shouldn't go down that rabbit hole, not sure if her heart or brain or soccer season can handle it. "i'm just here to apologize for being the reason we lost today. i can admit when i fucked up."

"you should have passed the ball," lena points out. "she had a clear shot."

"i know." there's another long pause, sam tapping the tips of her fingers together, lena looking content to watch her fidget. sam's the one to break the silence. "i don't like her, you know? we aren't - it's not like that. she doesn't like me. it's just a rivalry."

"she called me sam while we were having sex last week. she told me about you two, what happened first year."

sam's cheeks heat up so fast she doesn't even bother trying to hide she's blushing. she's lost count of the number of times she's gotten off to remembering kara's voice in her ear. she hates herself for it. "we had sex orientation weekend, and then the next day at soccer practice she barely looked at me. she just kept trying to show me up. so i kept trying to show her up, and now we're here."

lena actually laughs, then rolls her eyes like sam is being ridiculous. "that happened three years ago, and you still haven't talked about it?"

"what's there to talk about?"

"i don't know, her moaning your name during sex, maybe."

"whatever," sam mumbles.

"whatever," lena mocks. "i'm pretty sure she's only interested in me because she saw us together."

"don't tell me you actually believe that," sam frowns. "even if she is interested in me, there's no way she's not interested in you."

"maybe," lena says. then the door lock clicks and the handle turns, and suddenly there's kara. too soon and too unexpectedly, with her joggers and her loose t-shirt and the dumb way she staggers when she walks inside a door. she's carrying two bags from the downstairs mini mart and a subway sandwich. hair tied up in a messy ponytail. lips too fucking pink.

sam freezes. she forgot what exactly she came here to do.

"she came to apologize," lena tells kara, and sam realizes, awkwardly, they've just been staring at each other. kara's eyes are so blue, it's not fucking fair. sam feels more undressed now than she did the last time she was on kara's bed. "and, don't get me wrong, i don't think that's a bad place to start, but i told her you two should probably talk about more than just tonight or losing the game. especially since, you know, you can't keep her name out of your mouth."

"lee," kara says, calm, like she's fond enough of lena she's skipped shocked or upset and landed head-first on acceptance. "you didn't."

"i did, and she blushed, now discuss," lena gestures. "this is almost making up for my favorite show being on hiatus."

"we're not entertainment," kara pouts.

"not with that attitude," lena smiles. "but i believe in you. you can do it."

"i'm just here to - i'm sorry," sam says, then she stands up, keeping her eyes on the floor.

she's fucking glad for it, too, because she's pretty sure her string snaps when kara sighs. "sit back down, please. she's right, you know? even though we should talk about which information is not okay to disclose." lena whispers sorry. sam sits back down. she looks up just in time to watch kara glide the couple steps between them and plop down on the bed next to her, so close their thighs knock together. sam tries not to think about it. "i guess lena let the cat out of the bag, so no need to tiptoe around it."

"you still like me, so what?" sam says. she feels defensive.

kara carves right through it, though; first by blinking at her silently, then by opening one of the mini mart bags and offering sam a pint of mango talenti. "i do," kara says, slowly. she glances up at lena like she's checking if that's okay. lena's still smiling so sam supposes it is. it feels like she's in the twilight zone. she just wanted to apologize, but instead, she's doing whatever the fuck this is. she takes the ice cream and twists the cap off. kara relaxes a little. "that isn't to say we should do something about it, just that i don't actually dislike you."

sam wants to do something about it. it's her first thought. she won't say that. "what do you want me to say?"

kara looks at lena again. lena rolls her eyes. "you can say you like her, too. you can say you don't. you can say you want to be friends. anything, really. just don't lie, or worse - say nothing."

"i don't dislike you, either," sam says, fast enough she can't stop herself.

then she ducks her head and eats four scoops of the ice cream while kara stares at her profile. "cool," kara says, and then there's nothing else for a long while again. finally, after what feels like forever, kara huffs and asks, "you want to watch iron chef?"

"what?" sam asks, looking up, halfway to a brain freeze.

"lena and i have been marathoning it," kara explains. "it's what we do after, um. hanging out."

"i know you have sex," sam says flatly.

"is that okay?" kara asks.

it catches sam off guard. her opinion shouldn't matter, so she says as much. "does it matter what i think?"

"it does to me," kara says, then, "since we're being honest."

"i don't mind," sam says. it's not a lie, but it's also not a full truth. she's not jealous of lena; she likes lena. she's mostly just jealous that lena gets to have a piece of kara and she doesn't. "it's not like i can compete with lena."

that one catches kara off guard. she just stares at sam for a while. sam goes back to her ice cream. "you can, but you don't have to," kara says after a bit. "feel free to interpret that whichever way you want."

"i don't know what that means," sam mumbles.

"it means i can stay or i can leave," lena explains. "either way, you two are hanging out tonight. this isn't a competition."

oh, sam thinks. "oh," she says. "you can stay if you're good with that."

so lena stays.

they turn on iron chef then, kara squeezed between sam and lena, their backs against the wall on the twin-sized dorm bed. it feels fucking ridiculous, but sam settles into it, pressed against kara's shoulder. lena's asleep with her head on kara's lap by the time they announce the culinary curveball. sam can't stop watching kara's hand, tracing lena's ear, fingers snaking through her hair.

"does she always fall asleep?" she asks.

"like clockwork," kara says, "but she's not satisfied if we don't watch, then i get so caught up in it i can't sleep."

"that's cute."

"she is."

"i know," sam says, then immediately wants to take it back. "sorry, i didn't mean - i just. i really don't mind you dating, i swear."

"that's good," kara smiles, then moves her free hand from resting on her own thigh to resting on sam's. she doesn't even take her eyes off the laptop screen in front of them. sam feels like she's having a fucking heart attack. "this show is always so intense."

"you're touching me," sam says. she can't pretend it's not happening. "are you making a move?"

thankfully, kara just squeezes her thigh instead of moving her hand away. sam's not quite ready for her to go yet, but she can't sit here with them not addressing it. "should i not?"

it's not even a challenge; it's an honest question. sam wants to give an honest answer, but deflecting feels better. "is she okay with it?"

"yeah, she's fine," kara responds, thumbing over lena's ear as she says it. "pretty sure she has everything she wants right here."

"well, in that case," sam says, losing her thought briefly when kara squeezes her thigh again. "i guess it's fine."

"cool," kara says, so they watch the rest of the episode like that.

when the countdown starts to play another, everything feels tense. they're both tired from the game today, they should sleep, but they can't all fit on this bed. sam will have to go, probably. she's not ready to go. "hey," she starts, settling her hand on top of kara's.

"we can watch another," kara says right away. lena's out hard at this point, face smashed against kara's belly, snoring lightly. sam wants to be that comfortable, but she's jittery just touching kara's hand. "unless you want to go."

"not yet," sam admits.

kara flips her hand over, letting sam thumb over her palm, play with her fingers as the next episode starts up. "good," she says. "i'm not ready for you to go yet."

#supergirl #superreigncorp #asks #my writing #ficlet

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softbiker · 4 years

Text

Bucky Barnes Oneshot

Warnings: some language, excessive sun exposure, nudity (but no smut)

Word count: 5.4k (why am i like this)

A/N: This fic is very self-indulgent - it’s short on plot and long on summer vibes. Also, this is a reader insert fic, but I hate writing Y/N and using second person narration, so reader has been given an ‘Avenger alias’. Hope you like it. :) Basically, Bucky deserves this, and we deserve for summer to never end. <3 I hope you all enjoy it, and as always let me know what you think!!

P.S. here’s the playlist inspired by this fic

“Geronimo!”

Sam’s battle cry is the only warning before he takes the plunge; Bucky scrambles from his place on the boat deck, shielding his book with his towel and his hands in a last ditch effort to save the pages from water-logged ruin. He scowls as Sam resurfaces, breaching the water with a laugh and blinking to clear his eyes.

“Hey - watch it, bird brain.” Thankfully, his copy of Ender’s Game remains safe and dry, despite Sam’s carelessness. Wiggling his hips, Bucky scoots further back on his towel, away from the edge of the boat and hopefully out of the splash zone.

“You’re the one complaining about getting wet at the lake, Barnes,” Sam quips back, lazily swimming towards the ladder. “I’m not to blame here.”

“Doesn’t mean I want my book getting wet,” Bucky mutters. A bead of sweat slides down his neck - several beads actually; he can feel how flushed his face is in the dog day heat of a July afternoon. As he lays on his belly, pineapple printed beach towel spread underneath him; his sunglasses slowly slide down the bridge of his nose, his face too slick with sweat to hold them up properly.

“C’mon, guys,” Steve sighs. He couldn’t look less concerned if he tried - long limbs sprawled in the water, his star-spangled ass wedged firmly in a neon blue floatie, a can of beer in one hand. A pink patch of color has bloomed on his chest and spreads across his shoulders with each passing hour, despite regular reapplication of his sunscreen. “Can we not do this all weekend?”

“Mm, I’m with Steve,” a voice pipes up, languid and sleepy, from the sun deck along the top of the boat. “I don’t wanna listen to you two bickering for the next three days.”

Bucky’s mouth goes even dryer and his cheeks burn with a different kind of heat, tongue thick in his mouth at the sound of her voice. Embarrassment creeps up in him - why does he always let Sam’s ribbing get to him, damn it?

“Hey - he started it, Angel,” Sam holds up his hands in surrender, his own towel draped across damp shoulders. There’s a crystal droplet of water on the tip of his nose. “I’m just trying to have a good time.”

She peeks over the ledge from her coveted sunbathing spot, pushing her oversized sunglasses up on her head so she can fix him with a skeptical pout. Bucky rolls a couple inches sideways, leaning on one elbow to lift his gaze up to her. The sun blazes behind her, casting a vivid white corona of heat; the baby blue lurex of her bikini glitters against her skin, her limbs shining with coconut oil and sweat. She’s gathered her hair up on top of her head, but a few adorable baby hairs have escaped at the nape of her neck and her temples, curling sweetly in the humid, hazy air.

She’s only been with the team for a few months - new to the Avengers, and to superhero-ing in general. Operating alone for years, and cleverly flying under the radar, she’d found Tony Stark waiting for her in a refugee camp on the coast of Greece with a disturbingly complete dossier on her, as well as a job offer. Within moments of meeting her, the team dubbed her “Angel” - in slight awe at the way her glowing fingers healed Clint’s broken ones during their brief introductory handshake. From then on, she’s been their undisputed MVP, saving their accident-prone skins so many times they’ve already lost count.

“You know - that smells like bullshit, Sam.” The barest hint of a smirk tugs at her mouth, and even squinting in the sun her eyes are bright.

Sam sputters, playing at mock offense.

“Excuse me?” he says, a hand pressed to his heart.

“Just leave Bucky alone,” Angel rolls her eyes, letting her sunglasses drop back to shield her from the glare off the water. “And Steve? You might want to use a higher SPF, or you’ll need me to heal that later.”

Satisfied, she stretches back on her towel up on the sun deck, one arm long and lazy above her head, the other reaching for her phone - restarting one of her podcasts, Bucky thinks. Tiny wireless headphones tucked in her ears, she’s always listening to them; there’s a true crime one that she loves, but he can’t remember the name. Looking down at his chest, Steve seems to just notice the ripening sunburn on his skin. With a sigh, he flips himself out of the inner tube and into the water, swimming the short distance to the boat and pulling himself up the ladder in search of sunscreen.

Bucky ducks his head back down to his book. He tries to read, focus his eyes on the words in front of him - but, surprisingly, he’s almost too relaxed. He feels heavy, lazy, down to his bones; his eyelids droop and the words on the page run together. It’s not unpleasant, though - the heat has soaked right through his muscles, and for the first time in ages he finds that he’s not sore, not aching. Just a little tired, like a cat in the sun. Stretching and settling on his towel, he tucks his head in the nest of his folded arms and closes his eyes.

When Angel had proposed a lake weekend, inviting the team out to her family’s place in the woods, everyone had leapt at the idea. A few days spent in pure laziness, hours wiled away on the water or with a book, with no one to rescue and no battles to fight - it sounded too good to be true. Pure summer paradise.

Beneath him, the boat rocks dully on small waves. He feels himself lulled into a trance as his body sways gently in the same rhythm, back and forth. Paradise, Bucky thinks as he drifts off.

**********

That night, the sun lingering late in the sky, cicadas humming in the trees, the guys grill out on the deck at the cabin. It smells like heaven, fresh corn and burgers and mushrooms; inside the house, Wanda slices tomatoes and Angel stirs caramelized onions on the stove. At the island, Natasha patiently mashes avocados for her famous guacamole - made famous by the fact that it’s frequently her only contribution to family dinners.

“Wow, Nat, I think you actually got a tan,” Wanda smirks. “Right there, on your arm?”

“That’s just a freckle,” Nat scowls. “Which is why I use high SPF and don’t lay in the sun for hours.”

“Hey, at least you won’t get skin cancer,” Angel laughs, not looking up from her onions. Their smell wafts through the kitchen, mouth-watering and tangy sweet, mixed with the fresh and smoky air from the open window to the deck. Outside, the laughter around the grill bursts in a loud crescendo, Sam slapping Clint’s back as he doubles over in a fit of giggles.

“Sounds like they’re having fun out there.” Nat raises a sarcastic eyebrow as she glances out the window. Angel turns to look, too, her eyes pulled to the soft glow of the porch under the string lights overhead, the setting sun just beginning to burn red and gold through the trees.

Sliding off her barstool, Wanda skips over to the sliding screen door that leads out to the deck, pulling it open just enough to stick her head through.

“What’s so funny?” she asks, nearly shouting to be heard over the boys’ loud hoots of laughter. None of them answer, still caught in the flush of whatever hilarity had set them all going. Rolling her eyes, Wanda tries again. “Hey! Are we at least ready to eat? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, yeah, kid, we’re pulling ‘em off the grill right now,” Clint sighs, wiping his eyes. Even from her place by the stove, Angel notices Bucky’s bright open smile, so rarely seen it makes her do a double take. His color his high, his tanned cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink; his hair is still wet from the shower, combed back from his forehead in a way that’s almost boyish, the tips just beginning to dry in soft brown curls.

Swallowing thickly, Angel drags her eyes back down to the onions and turns the burner off.

They gather around the long picnic table on the deck, sliding and shuffling around each other, a veritable summer feast laid out in front of them. The boys at the grill didn’t disappoint: Sam proudly slides a platter of corn on the cob next to the kebabs he made, while Clint carries a tray piled high with fresh burgers (and turkey burgers, at Nat’s request). Toppings and sides come single file from the kitchen - fresh sliced tomatoes, crisp lettuce, fried plantains and guacamole. Bucky’s mouth waters with each new dish that arrives at the table, his knees jammed underneath the table next to Steve.

“This spot taken?”

Angel smiles as she slides into the seat across from him; she had washed her face when they got in from the lake, fresh and clean, and pulled an old college t-shirt over her swimsuit. The scent of her coconut lotion drifts across the table. Bucky clears his throat.

“N-no. Go ahead.” He wishes his smiles were half as warm as hers, half as easy and sweet.

Her nose scrunches as she beams a little wider at him and stretches her legs underneath the table, her ankle resting against his calf. The brush of their skin sets Bucky’s nerves on fire, and he keeps expecting her to move, to flinch away. But her leg stays where it is, resting against his, as they laugh and eat with their friends; and every so often when her eyes catch his he wonders if he’s imagining the spark in them.

**********

If it’s possible to get a concussion from tubing, Sam will have one by the end of the day.

Bucky’s head is already swimming and dizzy from being thrown from the inner tube half a dozen times, skipping across the surface of the lake like a stone - he’d always thought Steve was a wild driver on a bike, but in a boat, with two of his friends pulled behind and gripping the handles of a rubber tube? Steve is an absolute maniac.

Inside the boat, Angel leans against Steve’s seat and grips the railing to keep her balance, watching the boys behind them on their wild ride from hell.

“Are you sure you should be going this fast?” she speaks up, a little nervous. “Do you even have a boating license?”

“Don’t need one - I was born before the cutoff date, got grandfathered in,” Steve yells back over the engine and the rush of the waves underneath them. Glancing back and seeing Bucky and Sam still hanging on, he cuts the wheel sharply, the boat arcing through the water in a donut that sends them cutting over their own wake. From the boat, it’s a mild discomfort, the deck bouncing on each wave; from the tube, it’s game over.

She winces as it happens - the two of them go completely airborne on the tube, and with a final scream Sam loses his grip and tumbles sideways, knocking Bucky off into the water with him. Without their weight, the tube sways in the wind for a moment before it drops back to the water, upside down and empty.

“They’re down!” Wanda laughs, and Steve cuts the throttle down, idling slowly back to where the bright blue and green of life jackets bobs in the water a hundred feet away.

As they pull up alongside Sam and Bucky, Wanda drops the ladder and Angel makes her way to the back of the boat, pulling the rope to bring the tube back up to the boat.

“Oof,” Sam huffs as he hauls himself up the ladder, immediately unsnapping the buckles on his lifejacket. “I think I’m done - yeah. Yeah, I’m definitely done.” He shrugs the lifejacket off his shoulders and drops onto a seat at the front of the boat. “Hey, why don’t you get out there and let me drive, Steve?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Steve smiles innocently behind his sunglasses, his hair windblown and spiky. “I think I’m just getting the hang of driving this thing.”

“I think you need a little more practice, punk,” Bucky groans from the ladder. “But not with me back there. I thought Hydra scrambled my brains enough but-” he grabs a towel and scrubs the side of his head, trying to shake the water from his ears. “-you’ve got me mixed up like a fruit salad up here. Jesus.”

There’s always a downbeat, an awkward breath, when he makes jokes about Hydra. Steve winces a little, and Sam purses his lips; Wanda looks away, pushing her hair behind her ears. Bucky feels his cheeks flush, frustrated and embarrassed.

“It’s probably just early-onset Alzheimer’s,” Angel giggles, breaking the silence. “I mean, you’re pushing 102? 103?”

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Bucky narrows his eyes at her.

“I don’t look a day over 30, you know,” he huffs, feigning offense as he hip checks her on his way to the cooler for a beer.

“Ok, boomer,” she sighs. She’s wearing a necklace today, a single cowrie shell nestled at her collarbone, and she’s changed out the blue bikini for a tie-dye one that makes him thinks of cotton candy. With his metal hand, he snaps the cap off his beer and takes a swig, raising a brow towards her in question. Angel shakes her head. “I’m good - but I’ll take a water.”

They pass around the bottles of water, and a couple of snacks; it’s only early afternoon, and they’re loathe to waste any of the beautiful day, all of them sprawled across the boat, sunning themselves liberally. Wanda wonders aloud what they should do, if everyone is done getting roughed up on the tube.

“Well, we could drive around to the waterfall - maybe go cliff jumping,” Angel suggests, wiping watermelon juice from her chin. The huge Tupperware bowl of fruit they brought has gone down swinging between her and Steve, Sam picking through to find the strawberries.

“There’s a waterfall?” Steve sits up, a slice of cantaloupe in his hand. Angel nods, picking a seed from her teeth.

“Yeah, it’s around that way - not too far from here,” she turns and points around a bend in the shoreline, towards the north end of the lake. “We could at least just take a drive over there - the breeze would be nice.”

They all agree on that - it’s a cloudless day, brilliant and sweltering without the slightest wind to stir up the air across the water. Sam swipes his brow, more damp with sweat now than water, and takes a swig of his beer.

“Let’s go, Angel.” He raises his bottle in salute. “Before we all die of heatstroke.”

It’s a small waterfall, just a stream coming down from the hills surrounding the lake, and running faster today because of the last week’s rain; but the cove is lush and blooming with trees overhead, humming with the lazy buzz of insects and busy calls of birds. Angel kills the engine near the entrance and lets Steve drop the anchor - the water here is clean and deep, and the cliff face rises stark and bright out of the water, the rocks stained with age.

“Oh, wow - it’s so pretty,” Wanda smiles, snapping a picture of the waterfall with her phone.

“And quiet,” Bucky observes. He can’t hear the sounds of other boats on the water, the cries of other swimmers on the lake.

“Yeah, nobody ever comes back here,” Angel shrugs. “It’s kind of a secret little place - my family are always the only people here.”

One by one, they peel off their shirts and tug their lifejackets on, diving into the sun-warmed water. Angel leads the way towards the waterfall, showing them all a small break in the rocks with a natural set of steps and handholds she found with her brothers, and they climb up the rocks bit by bit, happily exploring.

“You ever climb all the way up there?” Sam asks, pointing to the top of the waterfall, where an outcropping of the rock juts out over the water.

“Yeah, a couple of times,” she nods, looking up. “We used to jump from the top. I never liked it much - I’m a little scared of heights.”

“Race you Tin Man,” Sam punches Bucky’s arm, and without waiting for confirmation, takes a running head start at the cliff wall, jumping up to the first handhold he sees and working his way up bit by bit. Bucky scowls, but not one to ignore a challenge, he follows close behind, overtaking Sam in a matter of minutes as he scales the wall with just his hands.

Hauling himself up over the edge, he stands above the waterfall, looking out over the lake. It’s still only mid-afternoon, and the glare of the sun on the water is nearly blinding. Far away, tiny boats circle and weave across the surface, their paths leaving figure 8’s in the waves. Below, he hears Wanda and Steve and Angel talking, cheering Sam on as he climbs the last few feet to the top.

“I win,” Bucky smiles as Sam’s huffing and sweaty face appears over the edge of the rock.

“I hate you,” Sam pants, but he takes the hand Bucky offers and scrambles up to stand beside him.

“Hell of a view.”

Sam props an arm on Bucky’s shoulder, an endlessly annoying habit he has, but Bucky refrains from smacking his hand away. They stare out at the water as Sam catches his breath.

“Yeah, it is.”

**********

When they finally make their way back to the boat, the sun has crept along the horizon towards the late afternoon angle, and their arms and legs ache from climbing the cliff walls over and over. Wanda massages her shoulders, slicking her hair into a little wet bun on top of her head. Angel follows behind her, dropping her lifejacket on her seat and wrapping a towel around her shoulders.

Last one up the ladder is Bucky, his arms heavy in the water, eyes stinging, but happily tired from a long day spent doing nothing important. He can’t remember the last time he got to do something like this - just be, just have fun, nothing hanging over his head and no thoughts of tomorrow. He pulls up the ladder after him, folding it onto the deck, and perches on the edge of a seat next to Angel, wondering where his towel has gone.

“Oh - oh, Bucky, you’re hurt,” Angel sits up and leans closer to him. He holds his breath, her face inches from his own - but her eyes are down on his hand.

His flesh hand, which is currently bleeding all over his bright blue swim trunks.

Shit. He hadn’t even noticed - hadn’t felt it at all, but he must have cut it on the climb. The cut runs cleanly through the pink flesh of his palm, welling blood that trickles down his wrist, mingling with the water that still clings to his skin. It triggers something, makes his brain stumble, the bright stain on his thigh - his shorts are probably ruined. He opens his mouth and starts to say something, but the sound sticks in his throat.

Smooth, soft fingers slide over his as Angel grabs his hand. Covering his palm with her own, she frowns down at the wound, as her hand starts to shimmer and glow. He feels the heat of her power soaking into his skin, brighter than the sunlight overhead. It starts to flow down his wrist, and he wants more of it - he wants to bask in it.

Too soon, though, it’s over. The cut wasn’t all that bad, and it only takes a moment to heal. But her hand lingers, palm brushing his, the tips of her fingers tracing his pulse on the delicate underside of his wrist, where the pale pink stain of blood lingers.

“Better?” she asks, looking up at him, long lashes shading her eyes. Tentatively, he allows his own fingers to trace her wrist.

“Yeah. Thank you,” he smiles.

“Any time.”

**********

That night, as the sun sinks down and the fireflies float lazily up from the warm ground, they gather around the fire pit in front of the house. Spread out in canvas lawn chairs, they toast their marshmallows on wire coat hangers, squishing them between graham crackers and chocolate squares. Steve is suspicious of the treat at first, unsure about the pairing and perpetually wary of sweets.

“Just try it,” Wanda rolls her eyes. “It’s the perfect treat, trust us.”

Skeptical, he sinks his perfect American teeth into the crackers, through the gooey marshmallow chocolate layer, the melted treat sticking to his lips as he pulls away. He chews thoughtfully, quietly, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb as he considers. The rest of the group awaits his verdict, nestled in their chairs with their own s’mores.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve agrees, shoving the rest of the dessert into his mouth. He licks his lips appreciatively. “You’ve got a point there.”

“You know, I think you would’ve had to give up being Captain America if you didn’t like them,” Clint smirks, one cheek stuffed full. “I mean, who doesn’t like s’mores?”

“Yeah, but is that technically an American thing?” Sam wonders, reaching for the package of graham crackers.

“Well I’ve never had them anywhere else,” Wanda counters. She’s nursing her second pineapple ale of the evening - a drink she discovered when they stopped into a grocery store for supplies, and insisted on buying 2 packs to bring to the cabin with them.

Bucky isn’t paying attention to the Great S’mores Debate, not even a little bit. He can hardly hear them talking; he stares across the fire, warm sparks drifting like the fireflies above, as Angel licks chocolate from her fingers. The bright pink tip of her tongue darts out against her fingertips, savoring what’s left of the treat; he finds that his own mouth is parched and dry, a curious kind of hunger growling low in his belly, despite having had his own fill of dinner and s’mores. As she slips her pinky finger into her mouth, her eyes catch his from the other side of the flames, the firelight dancing in her eyes as she holds his gaze. The corner of her mouth twitches up just slightly, and she winks.

She winks.

Then, as the conversation takes another twist towards some kind of dessert or another, she quietly slips from her chair and walks away unnoticed, picking her way down the familiar trail to the dock in the dark.

Bucky glances around the group, and gauging that their conversation should serve as enough of a distraction, mutters some kind of excuse about needing the bathroom before getting up to follow.

Seconds later, Natasha turns to look at them - Angel’s form just visible between the trees and Bucky trailing along behind. She smiles widely over her beer, before settling back into her chair with a sigh.

“Finally,” she huffs, taking a sip. “Took them long enough.”

“Oh my god, right?” Sam raises his hands in exasperation. “I thought I’d hit my 100th birthday before that dickhead made a move-”

**********

She’s sitting at the edge of the dock, past where the boats are moored for the night, one knee tucked up under her chin as her other leg dangles with her toe in the water. She must hear him coming, his footsteps intentional and loud to his own ears on the wooden planks, but she doesn’t turn around. The lake is soft and still, wearing moonlight like a a silk robe, rippling reflected light across the surface. Above them the sky is cloudless and star-filled, cooled to a rich deep blue after the blazing bright day.

“Sometimes I would come down here at night with my dad,” she says, when he stands right behind her, unsure if he’s allowed to sit, if he should ask. She tips her head up over her shoulder. “We’d fish a little - threw them all back, though.”

“You didn’t keep ‘em?” Bucky asks, settling down beside her on the dock, letting his legs hang over the edge.

“No,” she shakes her head, scrunching her nose. “I felt sorry for them. Didn’t wanna hurt them, you know?”

He just watches her, the soft line of her profile in starlight, a smile blooming in his heart.

“Always been an angel, huh.” He doesn’t mean to say it, at least not out loud, but once it’s out he finds himself glad.

She looks at him then, not answering, but searching out his gaze with her eyes - they flit between his own, pupils wide in the dark. He licks his lips, wonders what she’s looking for, what she sees.

“Have you ever been night-swimming?”

Her question comes out of the blue, catching him off guard. He blinks - her mischievous eyes never leave his face.

“Um. I-I don’t remember,” he fumbles. “I think so. Way back, during the war. Not so much for leisure though,” he smiles ruefully. “I just knew I smelled awful and didn’t wanna risk being caught with my pants down, literally, in broad day.”

It startles a laugh out of her, a loud one, and his pride swells, inflating in his chest. The smile stays fixed on his face as he looks back out at the lake.

“Wouldn’t mind sometime, though,” he hints. “It’s beautiful out there at night.”

“Let’s go then,” she grins, using her hands to push herself up to stand above him. He blinks up, dumb at the flash of her smile.

“But, well…” he falters. “I should run back up to the house, I don’t have my trunks-”

“So?” she interrupts with a careless shrug. There’s something in her smile, and he doesn’t quite understand what she means until she reaches for the hem of her t-shirt and-

Oh. Oh.

Easy as that, smooth as a wave, she peels her shirt over her head, tossing it to the side. Her soft cotton bralette comes next, unhooked and slid down her arms, dropped onto the pile with her shirt. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he swears, but he can’t bring himself to lower his gaze. She turns away with a little smile as she shimmies her shorts down, kicking them behind her to join the rest of her clothes, and he thinks he might combust if, oh god, there go her panties-

The cool splash of water as she jumps in jolts him back to himself, wakes him from the trance he fell into at the display of her body, her sweet summer skin, still smelling of coconut and watermelon. Her head bobs up a couple of yards past the dock, treading water.

“You coming or what?” she dares, feeling less bold now, but what the hell - she made her move. The water has cooled since the sun went down, and a little shiver runs through her. Yes, she certainly made a move. She bites her lip and watches him, waiting, hoping.

When he stands, she holds her breath - will he leave? Will he turn her down? Will he still be her friend? Then he reaches a hand behind his back and tugs his shirt up over his head, throwing it down onto the dock next to hers.

He’s every bit as beautiful by moonlight as he is in broad day - she’s always thought so, but kept it to herself, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Now though…she admires him, as she allowed him to admire her; watches closely every long line of his body revealed to her as he undresses, the golden tan he’s earned the last few days on the lake, the course hair covering his chest, the sliding shadows of muscle beneath his skin…

Before he can second guess himself, Bucky dives in and joins her, popping up out of the water just a few feet away and slicking his hair back from his face. She smiles, playfully backing away; he grins right back as he gives chase, following slow but determined.

“See? Fun, right?” Angel giggles, feeling her heart beat a wild rhythm and hoping he can’t hear it. Bucky chuckles back, not answering, swimming just a few inches closer. The outline of her body glows in the moonlight, though he tries not to stare beneath the water.

“You’ve definitely convinced me,” he agrees. They drift out a little further - still not too far from the dock or the shore, but their little game of cat and mouse leads them out several yards. “You bring all the boys out here? Is it gonna be Sam’s turn tomorrow?”

“Hm…I haven’t decided yet,” she muses, pretending to consider it. “I think I’d ask Steve first - unless you think he wouldn’t be game for it.”

“Trust me, I know Steve Rogers,” Bucky laughs. “He’d die of embarrassment.”

“You’re probably right,” Angel grins. “Then maybe it is Sam’s turn.”

“Aw, you’re breaking’ my heart, Angel,” Bucky pouts, giving her the full force of his baby blues, a look he only ever reserved for his mother. Angel doesn’t fall for it; instead, she rolls her eyes and splashes a handful of water right in his face.

“You’ll be fine,” she shrugs, but hides her smile by ducking her head half down, nearly concealed in the water.

“No, I won’t,” he insists. He’s barely a foot away from her now. “I’m wounded, Angel. Really. I’m real hurt - I need your help.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah - I may not survive. You gotta help me.”

“Well, I think that’s in my job description.” Her eyes are full of moonlight, her face inches from his own. “Where are you hurt?”

He grabs her hand and places her palm firmly over his heart.

“Right here, honey,” he whispers, silly grin firmly in place. “You hurt me real bad.”

On cue, her palm starts to glow, the light filtering up through the water in glittering ripples that flicker across their faces. Just over his heart, his skin warms at her touch, a surge of energy and light and life straight into him, deep and true.

“Anywhere else?” she asks, her own voice so soft, barely heard over the cicadas in the trees.

“Yeah…here.” Taking hold of her other hand, he draws her arms up around his shoulders. His smirk twitches. “Must’ve pulled something climbing those cliffs.”

“Uh huh, sure,” she rolls her eyes, but ignites her hands anyway, the healing warmth soaking into his sore muscles and the ever-tender skin surrounding his metal arm. Not one to complain, he never mentions the trouble it causes, constant weight on his shoulders and neck, often giving him tension headaches at the base of skull. But here she is, melting it all away with a touch.

Slowly, cautiously, he lets his hands slide around her waist, thumbs gently brushing her last rib. Beneath his palms he feels her breath stutter and catch, her heart picking up. Their feet accidentally kick one another as they attempt to keep treading water, and she lets him wrap one of her legs around his waist to keep from kicking her.

“Anything else?” she whispers. He traces her face with his eyes, unable to distinguish her own glow from that of the moon beaming down on them. With a slow nod, Bucky rests his forehead against hers, shares a breath.

“Here,” he says, and tilts his head the last couple of inches until his lips meet hers.

In an instant, he feels warm all over; though his eyes are closed, he can see the light behind them like sun through closed blinds. It nearly burns, hot and holy and aching sweet, and his toes curl with it. She breaks away for a moment, just to smile so blindingly, sunbeams breaking beneath her radiant skin - and dives back in, laughing into his mouth as he tightens his hold and her hands go to his hair.

Adrift in a summer-warm lake, under a swollen July moon, they kiss and laugh and touch and play.

Under a moon half as bright, they glow.

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot

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moonelf19 · 3 years

Text

C2E122

Widofjord Highlight Masterlist

While Lucien is asking what everyones goals are

Lucien: What about you?

Caleb: I’m not there, but only Lucien hears in his ear-

Travis, looking worried: Only Lucien?

Caleb: Yeah through the wire

Travis: Oh, ok, good good...

When the Nein return to the dome after talking with Lucien

Fjord: Y’know the last time we shared something we shared a vial of our blood and that did NO favors for us

Caleb: You know you don’t have to stand outside of the dome you can come inside of the dome

Fjord: Oh yeah, it’s uh, white colored...

Jester: Hey Caleb. Here’s your cat.

Caduceus: Here’s your ... shit

Caleb: *takes the mug* what.. is this?

Jester: Chewy shit!

Fjord: *haltingly* So... so good...

Sam: *pulls out his flask with a picture of Matt lookin evil on a carousel combined with travis to create travis’ mustachioed character from a project?*

The table: *various reactions of delight and confusion*

Liam: That’s just MATH!

Travis: mm.. Mmmhmm.

Right before the Nein go to bed

Beau: It’s easier to hate someone the less you know about them

Fjord: Facts

Caleb: You want to fax somebody?

Fjord: Yes *pretends to think really hard*

After Lucien shows Caleb and Beau the book for a few minutes

Matt: For the first time Caleb, even with your keen mind, you are having a hard time remembering what you just read

Fjord/Travis: *exasperated/horrified movement as he removes his hat and rubs his eyes in worry*

A little bit after that

Lucien: I’ve shown you something precious to me... now at least show me you still have it

Jester: Caleb, show him your wang

Caleb, without batting an eye: Fjord, show him my wang

Fjord, also without batting an eye: Yeah alright... I reach and pull out... from the bag of holding the amber

Lucien: *holds his hand out for it*

Fjord: *looks to Caleb for confirmation*

Caleb: *nods assent*

Fjord: *hands over the amber*

Lucien: Now why shouldn’t I just take this right now?

Caleb: If you hold onto it you won’t be able to stay in my tower tonight

Fjord: It is so warm in there :)

Jester: Lots of good food...

After Lucien gets them lost and they lose a day

Lucien: Alright we camp out for the night!

Jester: Do you want a tower?

Lucien, pointing at Caleb: If you don’t mind...

Caleb: Ja that is why we are friends

Fjord: *just grins cheekily at Caleb*

When they enter the tower

Fjord: Ahhh I prefer this so much mo- UP!!!

After leaving the Tomb Takers in their rooms, Caleb takes the Nein to the 8th floor

Caleb: You don’t have to say up, you can just...

Fjord: Don’t we? *smarmy look at Caleb*

Caleb: Well you have to

Fjord: UP!

Liam: Caleb makes a mental note that central chamber DOES NOT work for Fjord unless he says UP

Travis: *laughs hysterically* That’ll never be a problem

Liam: Everyone else is fine!

Caleb: As we float up to the 8th floor we come into a central nine sided chamber and there are nine doors. Numbered. Pick three.

Jester: How much do you think it’s weirding Lucien out that everything is 9 9 9 9 9

Caleb: A whole lot

Veth: Pick three?

Caleb: Yeah

Fjord: Three doors?

Veth: I’m going to pick door four

Beau: *quickly after Veth* Door nine.

Fjord: *also quickly trying to get his choice in* One.

Caleb shows them Astrids room behind door 4, then takes them to door 9 and describes the Nestled Nook

Fjord: *narrowed eyes as he realizes what might be behind door 1*

Caleb: Yeah so it’s almost dinner, and you said you wanted to see door number one...

Fjord: *stays silent*

Caleb: *pushes open door one*

Caduceus: Oh...

Caleb: *stands outside the door for a long moment*

Jester: *apprehensive* What is it...?

Caduceus: Home

Beau: Is it your childhood home?

Jester: Why did you put all of this at the top of your tower?

Caleb: Wherever I go.... they are with me

Jester: They are

Fjord: *soft voice* It’s so funny, they say you can never go home, but you’ve created an ingenious way to do just that.

Beau: But this is your first time being in this room

Jester: This would still be here, even if you didn’t make the rooms

Caleb: *uncomfortable* It’s just my way.... It’s just my way

Fjord: Was your room upstairs?

Caleb: *turns to give Fjord a tight smile and nod*

Fjord: Would you mind if I... *points up

Caleb: *smiles at Fjord again* Sure

Liam: Caleb goes to the steps, pauses, skips to the second step which creaks. Smiles a little bit. Then goes up.

Fjord/Travis: *short little amused laugh*

Liam: The loft is just a window, a small bed that would fit a teenager, and a little circle of rags

Fjord: All to yourself?

Caleb: Almost. *bamfs Frumpkin into the circle of rags*

Fjord: *smiles, then sees that Caleb is struggling with something and frowns*

Caleb: I’ve thought about it so much... I’ve thought about it so much. It probably isn’t a good idea to have this, but it’s just my way. I don’t think I’m allowed to forget it.

Caduceus: I don’t think you do, I don’t think this room will change that. I don’t want to speak to how smart you are but, it’s not that you’re doing it wrong you’re just not using it the right way.

Fjord: *confused*

Jester: It feels less like a memory and more like a punishment for yourself Caleb

Caleb: *distraught* If it exists here, it exists. It exists somewhere.

Caduceus: Even without here it would exist somewhere. What you’ve done here is beautiful, I hope you know that.

Fjord: *nods along in agreement*

Caleb: It is, it is, I have those memories, I have them, and I’ve struggled with it for a very long time. My feelings, about these things. There are good memories.

Caduceus: It only takes one bad one.

Caleb: I can’t help... *looks around at the others but lands on Fjord and stays there* ...wanting more.

Fjord: *nods gently*

Veth: Do you still wish to go back... and undo it?

Caleb: Of course.

Caduceus: Do you think Lucien has one of these rooms? Is that what’s happening? ... I don’t know. Maybe.

Caleb: Well... I understand that you all care for me very much. And I am very grateful for it. There is a part of me that will not- *cuts himself off*

Beau: Will not?

Caleb: So the tour is almost over, you wanted to see the ninth floor as well? Come along.

Veth: If that’s alright with you?

Caleb: Ja ja, it’s beautiful.

Beau: *stays behind and holds eye contact with Fjord for a long moment after the others leave*

Caleb calls for desert to be brought in

Caleb: One of the cats has a tray of cut fruit, and the other has a basin and a fountain of chocolate

Fjord: Holyyyyyy shit

After reminiscing about the cults they’ve dismantled

Fjord: Are we... relatively alone? Should we go somewhere else- another level, to avoid prying ears?

Caleb: We can distance ourselves but I’m assuming at any given moment we are more likely than not, he’s overhearing us

Fjord: I was going to ask if your tower offered any protection from prying ears, but also we should contact Essek and see where he’s stationed since it seems like we are closing in on Aeor

They discuss using the cats to hide what they are saying

Veth: To the Salon!

Fjord: UP

Caleb: It’s actually a floor down, so...

Fjord: Shit- DOWN!

Fjord: Ok so is this place battle ready? Can we trap them, or can it be damaged and they escape?

Caleb: Don’t worry about destroying anything, it will be reset to my liking.

Fjord: I meant more like can we trap them on a floor, keep them from leaving, restricting an entrance in and out of a room?

Jester: Anything that happens I mean he can cancel this tower...

Caleb: Right now there is not, but tomorrow there will be... if we imagine it

Fjord: *nods along: That’s what I meant... just a thought

Fjord uses his sword and notices they are being scried on

Fjord: Admittedly they have been kind of... nice? I figured they would have tried something by now but perhaps all of our... *casts around for the word and talks at Caleb* judgements were misplace?

Caleb: *eye contact with Fjord*

Veth: You view them as allies now, do you Fjord?

Fjord: I don’t know about that, but they seem to be at least participating in their half of the deal

Caleb: Well, they’ve been listening to us shit-talk them quite a bit on multiple nights, so... I don’t think there’s a lot of illusions here. *still talking to Fjord* It’s an uncomfortable alliance at best. But we are curious *now to the scrying eye* to see the end of the road. *to the cats* You can cut it. Cut it.

Travis: One prima donna cat is just *mimes singing dramatically*

They figure out the orb is following Yasha, then appears over Fjord

Caleb: I walk over to Fjord, and look up at where the scrying eye is, and kind of stand in front of [Fjord] so I can get in it’s view, and say what are we going to do here? We’re working together, you don’t really trust us, we don’t really trust you. You have some idea what you want to do to us. Are you having fun at least?

Matt: The orb disappears

Fjord: You’re actually looking a little off, but, it’s fine

Caleb: I was messing with it

Discussing how to fold Essek into the plan

Caleb: He’s told us to our face he bears more allegiance to us than any nation- whether that’s true or not...

Fjord: *sassy mmHMMM sound like he doesn’t believe it*

Caduceus trances to ask the wildmother questions and finds out Lucien doesn’t need them all alive

Fjord: Not ALL of us... angel-blood

Caleb: We’ve seen angel blood before *mimes tear tracks in reference to when they found the creepy ass weeping angel statues*

Fjord: *brain explosion as he realizes what Caleb means*

Back to discussing strategy which was like.... most of this episode. Waffling on decisions

Fjord: I’m a big fan of the home-field advantage, that’s the only reason I’m pushing to kick it off

Caleb: For those of us interested in getting our friend back- we don’t have a method. Our hope is to get to Aeor and find something there

Fjord: Ah

Caleb: Seems pretty thin

Fjord: *shakes head*

Matt: At this point Fjord notices the orb appear again

Fjord: *pretends to have an allergic reaction to alert the others*

Caleb: Several cats do now approach you at my telepathic bidding

Fjord: no no NO. NO!. No.

After Jester leaves to have cat adventures with Lucien

Caleb: Are we done for the night? Ja? Ok, I tell frumpkin telepathically to clog the arteries on five. Fjord, cover your eyes.

Fjord: *covers his eyes*

Caleb: Cat after cat after cat start vomiting up from the bottom-

Fjord/Travis: *plugs his ears as well*

Caleb: not in the room we are in! *holds out hand to Fjord* not in our room! in the central chamber it starts to fill with spectral cats

Caleb and Beau share a nightmare and shoot upright awake at the same time

Fjord: *points at the two, looking concerned* That’s... rare.

Beau: *grabs her notebook and starts scribbling*

Fjord: *stops pointing at her but keeps his hand up at Caleb, who rubs his eyes* What, what are you doing?

Beau: Shut-- just shut up, shh.. shhh sh sh

Caleb: *looks at Beau*

Beau: That’s not good.

Matt: Caleb, perception check

Caleb: I was also asking if anything I saw made any more sense... 18

Matt: As she’s sketching, you see on the back of her hand... a single red eye

The table: *loses their shit to varying degrees*

Travis: OH! OH! *looks angry and upset*

Beau: *unaware, continues sketching*

Caleb: St... Stop

Beau: What?

Caleb: *takes her hand and twists so its on top of his to show her*

Caleb: *checks the back of her neck but finds no other eyes*

Beau: *checks the back of his neck, nothing*

Beau: His arms- he had one on his arm

Liam: *to Travis* Check the gooch?

Travis: *breaks severity to laugh at Liam*

Liam: That’s the last place we’ll look

Caleb: *pulls off his shirt so he’s bare chest and arms to see if he has any eyes*

Fjord: *Nodding along and inspecting*

Matt: On his right shoulder you see an eye

Fjord/Travis: *leans back in exasperation and fear*

#critical role #widofjord #widofjord highlights #what a spicy episode

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colbybrocksmolder · 5 years

Text

Lie Detector - Colby Brock x Reader (self-love issues)

“Mike! You’re next!” Sam yelled, Colby slapping him on the ass when he went to stand up.

“This is fucking terrifying” Mike laughed, his hands already sweating. You had recorded a few videos earlier but now you were just messing around. The lie detector operator slowly got him hooked up to the machine and your whole group started throwing questions at him.

“Which guy in the room would you date if you HAD to date one of them” you asked, Mike being one of your best friends, you loved messing with him. He looked around and considered his options.

“I can’t pick Kevin. He’s hung like a horse. I don’t think I could handle that” Mike quipped, everyone in the room busting out in laughter. “Honestly? I’d have to say Colby. It would be like having a pet cat. All you need to do is put on some good music, feed him, and give him cuddles.”

“Why is that so accurate?” Sam laughed.

“I’m offended you think Kevin has a bigger dick than me!” Colby dramatically argued.

“I don’t know! I’ve never seen your dick!” Mike laughed looking to you. “Is Colby hung like a horse or a cat?” He asked, expecting you to have an answer.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” You threw your arms up in defense.

“Wait, really?” Jake asked. “I thought you two were...well never mind then” he laughed. “I thought Colby had finally gotten the balls to...”

“Hey! Don’t insult my dick AND my balls!” Colby blushed and fake shoved Jake, not letting him finish his sentence.

Mike laughed “Can I be done with my turn?”

“Pick someone to go next” Sam told him.

“Y/n! Get your ass in the hot seat!” Mike called, your heart immediately starting to race.

“Do I have to?” You pleaded. “I’ll do anything not to be hooked up to that thing.”

“Don’t be a pussy!” Kevin called out.

“We all have to do it” Kat added.

“Fuuuuck.” You sat in the chair, trying to calm yourself.

“Okay, y/n. Who is the funniest person in the room?” Kevin asked.

“Mike. 100%.” You answered.

“True” everyone heard your answer confirmed by the lie detector operator.

“Awww, I feel all fuzzy inside” Mike said, making you laugh.

“Who is the most attractive” Sam asked.

“Everyone is attractive for different reasons” you argued.

“Fuck that, you have to pick” he argued.

“Colby” you answered, looking over at his cheeks turn pink.

“True”

Jake jumped right into the next question. “Would you sleep with anyone in this room?” He asked.

“No.” You answered, seeing a few confused faces.

“True”

“WHAT?” Kat stared at you. She knew you were in love with Colby, so she didn’t know how you managed to slide by on that one. “Hmmm...would you date anyone in this room?” She asked, trying to catch you in what she thought was a lie.

“No.” You answered confidently, seeing her mouth drop open.

“True”

“Damn. Either she’s a really good liar or she thinks we’re all gremlins” Kevin laughed.

“Am I done yet?” You asked, just wanting to get the fuck out of this apartment.

“One more” Mike said. “Would you rather LOOK happy and be wealthy and popular or BE happy and be poor and unknown.”

“I’d rather actually be happy” You answered.

“True” the operator said, moving to take the equipment off of you.

“Pick someone to go next” Sam reminded you.

“Colby” you answered, reaching for your bag and sliding on your shoes.

Colby stood up to head to the hot seat. “Where are you going?” He asked.

“I have to get going. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten” you answered, walking out the door and ignoring calls of your name.

Colby went to stand up, but he was already hooked up to the lie detector. “Is she alright?” He asked Kat.

“I think so.” She answered. “I’ll check on her in a little bit. I don’t want to bug her while she’s driving.”

“I’m mad I don’t get to ask you this in front of her, now” Jake smirked at Colby. “Are you in love?”

“No.” He answered.

“False” the lie detector operator said.

“Colbyyy” Jake said in a knowing voice.

“Yes” Colby sighed.

“True”

“Is the person here?” Sam continued.

“Not anymore” Colby looked towards the door with a sad look on his face.

“True”

“Why haven’t you asked y/n out?” Mike asked. “I honestly thought you guys were together.”

“You heard her. She doesn’t like me.” Colby answered, undoing the lie detector equipment himself. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Colby!” Kat ran after him. “I don’t know how she passed the lie detector, but I know she loves you. She’s told me. I’m just as confused as you are.”

“No one else got away with any lies, Kat.” Colby said, walking to his apartment and closing the door.

A full week had passed and nobody had heard from you. You had ignored messages, you had avoided social media, and you were definitely skipping Pizza Night tonight. The one thing you had done is listen to a voicemail that Colby had left you. And you regretted that.

“Hey, Y/n.” Colby sighed, already a few drinks in at Sam’s. “I know I haven’t seen you at all this week, but I still hoped I’d see you at Sam’s tonight. I know sometimes you just want to be alone and I’ve always respected that. I’m the same way, but come on...a week? Is the thought of me caring about you so fucking horrible? I don’t care if you don’t want to date me, but Jesus y/n...does our friendship not mean anything to you? You just left. Kat keeps trying to convince me you tricked that stupid machine but I know better than her. You aren’t a liar. That’s why you can’t answer my fucking phone calls.”

And with that, Colby hung up. He downed a few more shots and threw himself into the festivities that accompany Pizza Night.

“Colby, come on.” Mike was helping Sam by dragging Colby to his own apartment.

“I can walk on my own” he frowned at Mike.

“I know, buddy. I just wanted to walk with you.” Mike smiled over at him, knowing not to argue with a drunk friend.

“That’s so nice of you.” Colby smiled at Mike.

“You really went hard tonight” Mike teased him, setting Colby down on the edge of his own bed.

“Y/n hates me. Didn’t want to think about it anymore.” Colby answered, watching Mike take his shoes and socks off for him.

“Y/n doesn’t hate you.” Mike gave Colby a sad look.

“That’s what it feels like.” Colby answered. “It feels like the first time I convinced myself someone could maybe like me for me they ran away and deleted my number.”

“Colby, a lot of people like you for you.” Mike argued, helping him out of his jeans.

“Nope.” Colby insisted. “They like money, followers, parties, sex, popularity, attention...they like who I know...they like drama.” His ramble fizzled out.

“I’m offended.” Mike tried to lighten the mood, looking for a pair of sweatpants for Colby to wear. “I like you for your body and nowhere in there did you say anything about that.”

Colby genuinely chuckled at what Mike had said. “I don’t mean you. You’re my brother, brother. You’re one of the trusted few.”

“Glad to hear it.” Mike said, getting Colby into the sweatpants.

“You know the thought of asking her out terrified me.” Colby said.

“Why is that?” Mike asked, pulling Colby’s button up shirt off of his shoulders.

“Because she doesn’t need me, dude.” He said, letting Mike pull a t-shirt over his head and falling back on the bed. He snuggled into his bed and continued. “She doesn’t want more followers or fame or attention. She hates drama. She doesn’t let people buy her things or pay for her meals. I have nothing to offer her.”

Mike sat down on the bed next to Colby. “Isn’t that what we’re all looking for, though? We want to find someone who chooses us because they want to. Not because they need something.”

“Exactly.” Colby said, sadly. “And she didn’t choose me.”

Mike looked over at Colby and saw his eyes were closed. He pulled a blanket over his friend and left.

You heard banging on your door and flew out of bed to peek out your window. “Y/N! Let me the fuck in!” You heard Mike yell, followed closely by a “Sorry Mrs. Norris. I’ll be sure to watch my language from now on, I promise.”

You laughed a little, seeing the tiny elderly woman scolding Mike.

You opened the door and Mike walked straight in. “Come in, I guess?” You said, closing your door.

Mike sat on your counter, waiting for you to follow him. “What do I need to do to get you to talk to me? Do we need to get drunk? High? Go for a drive?” Mike asked, a blank expression on his face.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“I want to pick your brain apart, because the Y/n I know wouldn’t have let tonight go down like it did.” Mike hopped off your counter looking mad.

You backed away a step. “What happened? Is everyone okay?”

Mike humorlessly laughed. “You don’t get to know that, y/n. Wanna know why? Because you weren’t fucking there.”

“Mike, I can’t.” You said, feeling your eyes well with tears. You tried to keep them from spilling over. “Every time I’m around you guys, I start to let myself think I belong there. Every time Colby asks me about my day or follows me around or pulls me to sit by him...I’m not going to let myself fantasize about something I’m never going to have.”

“Y/n.” Mike said softly, pulling you into his arms. “Why do you think you can’t have it?”

“Because I can’t.” You stepped out of Mike’s arms and walked back towards your room.

“I know you care about Colby.” Mike said, following you. “Why didn’t the lie detector catch that? It makes zero sense.”

“I said I wouldn’t date anyone in the room.” You crawled into your bed. “If I refuse to date anyone ever, that applies to the people in the room, yes?”

“Fuuuuuck” Mike sighed. He sat on your bed next to where you were laying down. “Why are you so afraid to let him in?”

“I’m fine by myself. It’s safer alone.” You tried to halt your tears, taking a deep breath.

“Y/n, if you always take the safe road you’re going to miss out on so much.” He said, shaking his head. He knew you struggled with letting people in, but he didn’t think it fucked you up as much as it did.

“If I live my little life in my little apartment with my little goals…I don’t have to starve myself or compete with anyone else.” Word started flying out of your mouth with little permission from you. “I don’t have to be the prettiest or the skinniest or the one with the best skin. I don’t have to worry about having the person I love wish I looked more like that girl he met at a party or be afraid to show off their average girlfriend. I refuse to be someone’s regret, Mike. I’m not going to waste anyone’s time. I’m better off by myself and he’s better off just skipping me instead of stressing out about letting me down easy when the next girl comes along.”

The both of you were silent. You were cried out and Mike was heartbroken for you. “Colby got hammered tonight.” Mike sighed. “He told me he was terrified to tell you how he felt because he knows you don’t need him…so if that was your goal, your message was heard loud and clear.”

“He called me” you whispered.

“And?” Mike prodded.

“He’s really mad at me.” Your voice caught in your throat.

“He’s not mad, Y/n. He’s heartbroken.” Mike so wanted to fix this for the two of you. “You know he doesn’t let anyone in either? He doesn’t think anyone is going to love him for him. Those are his words.”

“Everyone loves him, Mike.” You said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“That’s what I said, but he made a good point.” Mike tried to explain. “He comes with a lot of things that people want more than him. Fame and money and bullshit. The good news is that he thinks that you’re different. The bad news is that he thinks you don’t care.”

“I care too much.” You said quietly into your pillow.

“Well at least have the balls to tell him that to his face because he tried letting you in and you left. And that’s not fair. You’re so worried about keeping yourself safe that you’re hurting everyone that cares about you. You broke both of your hearts in the process of trying not to break your own.” Mike stood to leave.

“Where is he?” you asked, sitting up.

“Alone.” Mike shook his head. “I left his apartment unlocked so that Sam and Kat can check on him.”

You pulled your phone out and listened to his voicemail for the 100th time. “Can you drive me over there?” you asked, looking for your shoes.

“Why do you think I’m here?” Mike laughed, chucking one of your flip flops at you.

When you got to Colby’s apartment, Mike went and laid down on the couch. He had planned on coming back and crashing there regardless of whether or not you came. You ditched your shoes and walked into Colby’s room. He was curled into a ball, laying on his side. The stuffed animal you always teased him for having tucked against his chest. “Colby” you said, sitting down on the side of his bed. “Colby, wake up.” When he didn’t budge, you shook his shoulder and pulled the stuffed Koala out of his grip.

“Mike, I just want to sleep.” He said, rolling over to the other side of the bed, facing the wall.

“I’m sorry” you said, moving to lay behind him. You slipped your arm around his waist and hugged him to your chest. “We can talk in the morning.”

“Y/n?” he asked, holding your arms tight against him but not rolling over to face you.

“I’m sorry, Colby.” You softly said, trying not to break down in tears again.

Colby started mumbling something that sounded like “This is a dream. It’s just a dream.”

“Do you want me to go?” you asked, moving to pull your arm back.

Colby held your arm tight to his chest. “This isn’t a dream?”

“No” you answered, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

Colby turned over to face you, seeing your face wet with tears. “Why are you crying?” he asked, leaning in to clumsily press kisses to both of your cheeks.

“That shouldn’t be your first question when I’m the one that fucked this up so badly.” You said, closing your eyes. “I’m so sorry.” You tried to calm your sobs.

“Y/n, I love you. I’m not going to stop loving you just because you fucked something up once.” He said, slipping his arms around you. “Come here.”

You moved to lay against Colby’s side. “I love you too, you know.”

“I don’t know if I can let myself believe that.” He said, his breath stuttering like he was afraid to speak. “I’m terrified that the second I believe it you’re gonna leave again.”

You sat up a bit so you could look him in the eyes, your hand moving to caress his cheek. “Colby, I’m just as scared as you are. I’m so so sorry I let you think I didn’t love you.” You leaned down to connect your lips, feeling his move against yours. “I promise I won’t leave again.”

Colby rolled the two of you over, his face hovered above yours. “Y/n, don’t promise me something you don’t mean.”

You could feel his breath against your face, his soft blue eyes set on yours waiting for your answer. You gently set your hands on either side of his face, speaking softly. “Colby, I am so scared. And I’m probably going to freak out a few times because I stopped letting people in a long time ago…but I promise you, I won’t leave.”

Colby let his weight gently rest against you as he captured your lips in another kiss. “Thank you for coming back.” He said, adjusting his body down the bed so he could cuddle his face into your soft chest. “It’s okay if you freak out, y/n. As long as you let me, I’ll be there to help you every single time.”

“That’s a big job you’re applying for.” You softly laughed, running your fingers through his hair.

“So?” He replied. “It’s the most important one I’ve got.”

“How did I get so lucky?” you said, dumbfounded by his words.

“It’s not luck.” He mumbled, slowly falling closer to slumber. “You’re worth it…I love you.”

“I love you too, Colby.” You felt him snuggle just a bit closer. “So much.”

#colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock imagine #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock oneshot

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kidney9-9 · 4 years

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Sweeter Than Sugar (Chapter 2)

Hey everyone! This is Part 2 of the mini series! Hope you guys enjoy! Bucky x Reader, featuring Sam. There will be another part coming out soon!

Warnings: swearing, lots of fluff, love-struck Bucky, little bit of embarrased Bucky and the tiniest mention of sex.

Word Count: 2.1k

Part 1

It’s been 6 wonderful months since you’ve made Bucky’s life a lot better. He’s turned into a smiling man ever since he’s met you. Bucky cannot imagine life without you. He knows he would be lost again, facing all his troubles all alone, going to missions without a care that he might die. He wouldn’t ever be in a state of pure happiness, or know what true love is.

And Bucky has made your life better as well. He always supports you in every decision you make (except for the stupid ones), and his number one priority was to make you feel happy. You can imagine life without him, and well it seems pretty fucking bad. You would be stuck in New York with no real close people in your life, you’d be working extremely hard to make enough money for rent, and you would be a cat lady. You already are a cat lady though, with Bucky’s lil buddy.

Your first date (going to breakfast), ended up being very memorable. You were incredibly happy and Bucky was on cloud 9 during your first date together.

The first date was to have breakfast and you and Bucky mostly flirted while eating. Well, you did most of the flirting while Bucky fidgeted in his seat, blushing. But after the flirting came to getting to know each other.

Bucky told you some of his struggles, while you listened and comforted him. It was upsetting to hear how much he’s been through and how some people still never accepted him as a war victim.

He listened to how you spoke of your past. You told him silly stories of you and your friends, explaining how you guys were basically the three musketeers of your high school. He loved every bit of this. He loved listening to everything, and he loved watching your expressions and his heart skipped so many beats when you placed your hand atop his metal one.

After breakfast, you insisted on taking him to the ice rink, claiming it was your favorite place to go in NYC since you’ve moved here. The ice rink was a disaster (almost).

The first thing to go wrong was the worker refused to give out skates to Bucky, claiming he would kill others with the blades on the ends. You jumped in, without even a second for Bucky to respond to the man, with “You shouldn’t be scared of him. You should be scared of me! I’ve already gotten the skates from you, and I’m pretty sure I can lean over to cut you right up in a nice dish of “fuck you”. How ‘bout you give him the skates, asshat?”

That shocked both Bucky and the worker quite a bit. The worker was actually terrified of you now, not Bucky. He quickly handed over a pair of skates, and squeaked out “Please don’t hurt me!”.

Bucky was pretty impressed and touched that you defended him. He gave you a quick bump on your shoulder, and passed a “Thank you”. You just shrugged and smiled with, “People shouldn’t act like that to you, sweetie.” His blush from that nickname instantly came on but he welcomed it.

The second disaster of the ice rink was actually a dangerous one. Bucky spotted a target he and Sam lost a few weeks ago. Bucky spit out a “gotta go” to you before skating off to the other side of the rink. You thought this meant he wanted to race you, and well, you followed behind him.

Seeing you behind him startled him even more, but he had to catch this guy before he ran off again. Skating in front of the man, Bucky caught his arm fast, pulling the man down.

You slowed down, watching this scene happen, and realizing Bucky didn’t mean to race you! You stood there for a second, watching the man try to fight Bucky off, not knowing what to do. But once you saw the man reach to his pants with his free arm, you skated closer, kicked his chest, pushing him completely down, with Bucky grabbing both of his arms now.

“Woah! I knew you had a gun! That’s so crazy! Why would you pull out a gun in public like that? Just let my sweetie arrest you!” You screamed at the man.

Bucky’s standing there, thinking, why did you go ahead and get involved? You could’ve been hurt! But you did help him there, Bucky was thankful for that. And hearing you call him “sweetie” again, oh my, did he feel conflicted! He’s blushing like a mad man, trying to appear tough in front of an actual mad man, and also extremely confused of why you jumped in!

“Sorry doll, I’m gonna have to end this date, I have to take him in.” Bucky told you on the rink. Oh did he regret saying that! Your expression dropped and you took a step back with, “Okay, I understand.”.

You really didn’t want this date to end all because of some lousy criminal. You wanted to spend more time with Bucky, he was so sweet to you this entire time. Bucky didn’t want to end it either! He really wanted to stay with you but had to leave.

“I had a really good time with you, doll. I’m sorry this happened.” Bucky spoke, still holding onto the criminal. You sent a polite smile back at him and shrugged.

You really didn’t know how to respond but wow did Bucky look even more attractive (if that’s even possible), arresting someone. It made you really want to compliment him but that would be fucking awkward, with some random loser, watching both of you.

So you decided to do the next best thing, skating towards him quickly and winking, “Thank you for the date sweetie. How about we skip the ice rink for the second one?”

Well did that shock Bucky once again! He really thought you wouldn’t want to even speak to him after that! So when you asked him out extremely smoothly, he swooned again. His frown was replaced with a shy smile, and of course he was blushing again.

Wow, have you held this date up! His urge to flirt back was so strong, you were so incredible. He really needed to express how you resembled an angel, how you’ve been the greatest person he has interacted with since he made his way back into society.

“Doll, I swear you’re sweeter than sugar. I’ll be waiting for our second date, see you soon Y/N.” He went to skate away, wowza is he embarrassed! He doesn’t know if what he just said was too cheesy but he needed to say it.

Once you hear those words, your heart is pounding very hard! Wow that was so cute and sweet! Never in your life has a guy made you feel so happy like this, this fast.

You skate fast to Bucky, pulling his hand back, and quickly lean in and place a small kiss on the corner of his lips. “Bye Bucky,” you smiled.

Bucky is so surprised and all that is on his mind is well fuck that was so cute and he wanted to actually lean in and kiss you hard and long. And how red his face is because of this moment, well pretty sure he resembles a ripe tomato.

Each date after the first always made you and Bucky fall farther in love with each other. By the fifth date you hinted at the idea of taking it to the next step very casually almost as if you were nonchalant about sex (you definently weren’t).

And Bucky’s eyes bulged out of his head! His response came about a minute later, as he stared at you sipping the milkshake in your hands, “Yeah I’d like to taste some sugar.” Your eyes popped up, and mouth open, wow you didn’t see that coming! But it was pretty smooth to you, and you winked back and sent a sweet smile.

Around 3 months into the relationship, Bucky was walking through the hallways of the compound, thinking of you. How you and him had the sweetest moments and the silliest, cutest and loving moments. How everyday he woke up thinking of you and wishing you laid by him in the mornings, and spend the mornings drinking coffee with sugar, and spend the evenings with a dance and a kiss goodnight.

Well shit.

Bucky already knew he was in love but now realizing how in love with you he was, he wanted you by his side day after day. He halted in the middle of the hallway rather abruptly with a silent “Fuck!”.

Asking you to move in with him was a huge deal! He really had no idea how to ask and if it was too soon to ask but he did it anyway. The next time he saw you, he pulled you into a hug, slipping a spare key in your coat pocket. He never mentioned it at all for the next day, and his anxiety was rising and he was questioning himself.

Two days later, you called him to help you with “something”. Not sure what, he was nervous, and brought some coffee with sugar to share with you.

“Hey sweetie! I got a rental to help move my stuff, can you help me move all this?” You said, giving him a quick kiss and pulling away to grab a box.

Bucky’s brain went haywire. You really wanted to move in? He was wondering if this was just a dream. He felt like the luckiest and happiest man in the world at that moment. He swore he felt like he was soaring in the sky.

Wow, you did this, you’re going to live with him! Fuck he forgot to clean his apartment! Bucky dropped the cups of coffee, and tugged you back into him, making you drop your box. Both of you laughed and smiled, laughed some more and kissed.

By the sixth month of being together, Bucky felt he knew you for a whole lifetime. He would go to sleep smiling, and wake up smiling, happier than the day before when he saw you laying by him.

You would sometimes wake up before him and smile and cuddle closer to him, and when he would wake up, you would tickle him and kiss him senseless. Who wouldn’t love that?

Sitting at the kitchen counter together, Bucky smiled before sipping his coffee, “Just how I love it. I love you, doll.” You smiled back and stood up, giving him a kiss on the cheek, “Love you too, sweetie.”.

That day, Bucky went to work repeating your words in his head. His smile wouldn’t fade, and he felt like he was bouncing on happiness. Sam noticed for sure, anyone would see how love-struck he was.

Sam gave Bucky a small nod, “Hey, how’s everything going with Y/N?” Bucky gave a nod and smiled back. Bucky opened his mouth to respond and the first thing that came out was, “I’m gonna propose. Help me pick a ring?” Oops. Yeah, Bucky didn’t mean to spill it out immediately today but he 100% knew he was going to marry Y/N.

The look of shock appeared on Sam’s face but he replied quickly with, “Wait, seriously?” Bucky could only nod, he was nervous about Sam’s reaction, since Sam has become one of his closest friends.

“Buck, count me in, congrats!” Sam cheered, pulling Bucky into a side hug, and quickly adding on, “When do you want to pick the ring?”

That was something Bucky did not think about exactly. He knew exactly what ring he wanted and how to propose but he had no idea where to get it and when.

The next day, after their mission, Bucky and Sam headed over to one of the jewellery stores. The worker nervously greeted them, and offered to show everything to them, but Bucky declined quickly.

“I want a simple ring, diamond and all, but I want this ring to be engraved ‘Sweeter than Sugar’”. Bucky spoke confidently. Sam awed at his choice, punching his arm. Bucky shrugged him off with a scoff, “Back off, she’s going to love it.” Sam nodded and grinned back at him, chuckling lightly.

Taglist is open for this story!

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sherrybaby14 · 5 years

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Sneaky Steve

Requests: I saw your requests are open, I’d love to request a fix were Steve goes after and having an affair with the girlfriend of one of the other avengers?

If you ever feel the inspiration I’d love to see your take on Steve going after a reader who was already in a relationship (maybe a bit dub con but obviously your choices, I know it’s great no matter what )

Omg I saw your requests were open! I’m internally screaming because I’m dying for some sex pollen with a dark! Steve, I honestly live for that shit 😍 So if you have time and feel like writing it, you would be making me so freaking happy! Have a great day babe x

A/N: I’m being ambitious and combining the three.

Warnings: Smut, sex pollen, I’m going to label this NONCON, but it turns into Dub con with the drugs and what not.

Pairing: dark!Steve x reader

“I don’t know Sam, he’s just so…”. The word you were searching for was creepy, but looking at his desperate need to have you get closer to his best friend made you think an insult wasn’t the way to go. “Intimidating.”

“He’s really not.” Sam pulled over a lab chair and slid next to your work bench. “He’s just a person. Please get to know him.”

You didn’t know what to say. You’d only been on a handful of dates with Sam. It wasn’t like you’d even been intimate yet. Why did it matter to him that you liked his friend so much?

“He says the same thing about you. Intimidating.” Sam shook his head. “Look, I really like you and I want this to work with us, but Steve is such an important part of my life. I want my girl and my best friend to get along. Maybe the two of you can spend some time together?”

“Maybe.” You’d noticed Steve stop by the lab several times over the last year. He’d never once spoken more than one word answers to you, but you always felt like his eyes were on you.

Even when you glanced up at him he wouldn’t break the gaze. It made you uncomfortable.

“Great.” Sam clapped his hands. “I told him to come by around five, when you get off for the day. Then the two of you can get to know each other and we will all meet for dinner.”

“What? No!” You realized he’d had this set before you’d agreed. “I mean. I have to work late tonight. There’s some weird compound that needs analyzing. Very nerd level stuff.”

“Okay, no dinner.” Sam looked defeated. “But maybe you could take a break and talk to the man for ten minutes? Give him a tour of the lab?”

“He’s been to the lab plenty.” You shivered thinking about the way his blue eyes bore into yours.

“Please baby.” Sam squeezed your knee. “For me?”

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes. “Ten minutes. And am I really your girl?”

“On the way to the title.” Sam winked and stood up. “Call me later tonight? When you’re done with work?” “Alright.” You shook your head. “Now get out of here or I’m going to have to stay even later.”

Sam gave you a nod before turning and leaving. You smiled as you looked down at his ass. He was a good catch and if he wanted you to bond with Steve maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

The compound was fascinating and you were lost in your work. A knock came, making you jump up from the table. There he was. Captain America in jeans and a t-shirt. Even without the uniform he was still intimidating.

“Hey. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He had his hands in his pockets. “Sam wanted me to come by.”

“Yeah.” You pushed out the chair. “Sorry. I forgot. I’m…”

“I know your name.” Steve kept a dead face.

“Oh?” You stood up, his gaze never ending. “Sam thinks it would be good if we got to know each other. We’re starting to get a little more serious and all.”

“Oh?” Steve smiled. It didn’t look natural though, almost like he was making fun of you. “He mentioned a tour?”

“Right.” You walked past him and cringed, wondering why he was so creepy. “Well this is the organic material lab. Nothing in here is synthetic. I just kinda house the stuff, do a few little research projects here or there.”

“House?” His voice was so close.

You looked over your shoulder to see he was almost on top of you. You slid to the left and unlocked one of the cabinets.

“Yeah. A bunch of different compounds.” You opened your arm. “Really boring stuff unless you’re into chemistry.”

“So what’s this one?” Steve reached in the cabinet.

He didn’t grab one on top. Instead he reached back and pulled a container so random it didn’t seem random at all.

“Be careful! Some of this stuff is dangerous.” You wanted to slap his hand, but didn’t want to touch him.

“Like this?” He flipped open the lid.

“HEY!” You didn’t have time to react before he pursed his lips and blew.

Orange powder blasted you in the face.

“What the fuck?” You spun and ran to the eye wash station, trying your hardest not to breathe any of it in. “What is wrong with you? What was that?”

“Ipomoea purpurea helianthus annuus.” Steve did not have any semblance of concern or fear, in fact he sounded quite happy.

You scrubbed your skin while your brain tried to place the compound.

“I wouldn’t worry about getting it all off.” Steve was right behind you. “All you need is a few spores to take effect. I’m thinking we’ve got less than three minutes.”

“What?” You turned to look at him. “What effect?”

“I thought you were smart.” Steve frowned. “You don’t have all the best potions down by name yet?”

“Are you psychotic?” You started toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Steve raced over and blocked the exit. “If you leave you risk infecting others. We have to wait here until the spores are dead.”

“What did you blast me with? Why?” You tried to pay attention to your body, looking for any differences.

“Because I couldn’t take it any longer.” Steve stood against the door, arms spread. “The teasing looks. The tension between us. Dating Sam to get my attention? That was a bit of a low blow Doll.”

“What?” None of what he was saying registered. “I genuinely like Sam.”

“Come on, he knows it to. Your little secret obsession with me. Our cat and mouse game.” Steve dipped his chin. “He only asked you out to piss me off. But I think it’s going a little too far. You belong to me.”

An itching came over you so sudden that you didn’t notice you were scratching at your neck. The temperature in the lab was increasing too and you shrugged your coat off. What did he give you? You’d been too busy listening to his crazy speech you forgot about the dust he blew in your face.

“I know how shy you can be.” Steve relaxed away. “I’ve had enough teasing. I wanted to get right to the point.”

It clicked and your eyes went wide with horror as you looked at Steve.

“No.” You swallowed and shoved at him. “You have to get out of here. You have to get away from me. We can’t.”

“Shhhh, calm down.” He reached out and pulled you close, you felt so small smothered by his frame. “ You’re lucky I’m being this gentle with you after your little stunt with Sam. This way we will both enjoy everything and skip over the awkwardness.”

“You’re crazy.” You started to shake as the heat intensified. “None of what you’re saying.”

“Games over kitten. You won.” Steve dropped his arms and shook them out. “You got me to break first, but I’m a sore loser.”

“You’re…” You couldn’t finish the thought, your body was getting so hot.

Too hot. It felt like you were baking. Your clothing itched against your skin. You needed it off. Every stitch.

“Don’t fight it. What’s the point?” Steve grabbed the bottom of his shirt. “I’m going to enjoy every second of the ride.”

You wanted to screech at him, but the image of his rippling abs made you clench your thighs together. What had he done to you? Were you flirting with him? NO! You grabbed the counter and looked away.

“Here. I’ll help you.” Steve was behind you.

He lifted up the bottom of your top and you whimpered. You didn’t know if it was because you didn’t want him undressing you or because you were desperate for it. Everything was getting foggy and the need in your core continued to pool.

“That’s it.” Steve lifted your shirt, you hadn’t even realized you’d lifted your arms. “Good girl. We’re going to have so much fun together. We deserve it. We both wanted it for so long.”

Your shirt hit the floor and you brought your hands back to the table. Focus. You didn’t want this. Thinking the thought felt like a betrayal. Steve’s hands came around your hips. He started to undue your pants and you thrust your ass out, giving him easier access.

“Baby you’re body is amazing.” Steve pushed your pants down.

You kicked off your shoes and used your toes to yank your socks off before you stepped out of your clothing, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments.

Steve was so creepy. You’d always thought so, but right now he almost seemed sweet. Wanting to take care of you, to scratch the itch that was burning up your skin. The little voice screaming no was getting quieter and quieter as your body felt flush with heat.

“Help me?” You ruined your head over your shoulder. “I don’t want it to hurt.”

“I’ll never hurt you Doll.” Steve cupped your cheek. “Never.”

His lips crashed on to yours and that was it. No more little voices. He spun you around and sat you on the counter positioned between your thighs. You brought your legs up and pulled him closer, feeling his hard cock beneath his jeans. You moaned in frustration.

“You’re mine Doll.” Steve pressed his forehead to yours. “And I take care of what is mine.”

He brought his hands between you and took off his pants. You used the opportunity to unhook your bra and drag it down your arms.

“Perfection.” While Steve was undressing the rest of the way his head went to your chest.

His tongue flicked against your nipple. Forcing it into a tighter pebble than it already was and forcing you to cry out.

“Too much.” You ran your hand through his hair. “Please. I need you.”

Steve looked up at your with and let out a growl. It made you fall back against the table, the cool metal giving little relief. The only break from the heat was Steve. Hands were on your panties yanking them down and you almost cried as the scent of your sex filled the lab.

“You have me.” You felt his head run up your slit. “Always.”

He pushed inside of you with one stroke. Your back arched and you saw stars as he stretched your walls. You’d never felt anything like this before. Every pleasure center in your body was activated and on fire for the man.

“You are so tight Doll.” Steve grabbed your thighs and started dragging your body to meet his thrusts.

You looked up at him. His eyes were glued to you, but the intense gaze no longer felt creepy. You realized that wasn’t the word. It was obsessive. The man was obsessed with you and you never noticed.

Before you could whine at the realization his hand came down and cupped your cheek, this time not so gentle. He spread his fingers until his thumb was at your mouth. Without hesitation you parted your lips and took his digit into your mouth, grabbing his wrists as you began sucking.

“Fuck that is a beautiful sight.” Steve bottomed out, right against your cervix sending a slight sting.

He stopped moving, but you continued to suck, running your tongue up and down his thumb as you moaned. Then hit other hand slid up your thigh. He gathered some of your juices and pressed his thumb to your clit. You whined as your legs twitched.

His mouth parted with a stiffened moan as he began rubbing. Then he started the micro movements. Bumping his cock against your womb. The little stings mixed with the pleasure from his thumb and you felt the fall begin.

You rolled your hips against him, wanting the thrusts and touch deeper, your teeth grazing against his thumb while you still sucked. Steve’s other fingers dug into your cheek. You’d never felt this way, so alive, so owned, so devoted, and so desperate.

“Cum for me Doll.” Steve’s blue eyes flashed. “It’s just the first on many. But I want to see it. I want to see every muscle on your body twitch. Cum for me. Now.”

You didn’t know if it was because of his words, his hands, his cock, or because your body was ready. But your orgasm started instantly. You let out a scream as your head lulled to the side, no longer able to keep Steve’s thumb in your mouth.

The fire in your body was cooled, replaced with euphoria. You were hovering in the ecstasy when Steve pulled out and began railing into you. Every pump of his cock forcing you back onto your cloud.

“So beautiful.” Steve leaned down so his lips were next to you ear. “And all mine. Forever.”

“Yes.” You brought a hand behind his head, hoping that this feeling would never drop. “Always.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #marvel #fanfic #fanfiction #sex pollen #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic

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bella4rosy · 4 years

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Record Player

Description: In which Steve Rogers discovers that his neighbor shares his taste for big band/swing music, and she plays him some records of her own. Mildly inspired by the french movie Blind Date. Set between Winter Soldier and Civil War.

((Contains: Domestic Steve Rogers. Old movie references. The Rat Pack. Bucky taught Steve how to foxtrot. Tony Stark making old man jokes. Tony Stark and Natasha playing matchmaker.))

The first time he heard the music, he thought he was having a stroke. He spent at least five minutes scrambling around his apartment trying to figure out how he was hearing a big band even though his record player was off. He was one more minute away from calling Tony, thinking he was under some kind of attack, before he realized it was coming from a different apartment.

He wasn’t sure if this revelation confused him more than the mysterious source of the music itself. Not a lot of people listened to the stuff from his time, this he knew. Playing those songs or requesting one or two of them at Tony’s galas had often earned him a mocking joke or two from his teammates. “Old man” or “grandpa” were the most popular, albeit uncreative, nicknames.

But here he was, hearing one of his favorite albums being played by someone else loud and clear.

It was coming from behind the bathroom wall. The building had been laid out so that the bathrooms of most units were back to back, meaning tenants shared a bathroom wall. His neighbor had never made much noise before, and he was rarely reminded that there was another person with their own life and routines occurring on the other side of that thin plaster. Until now.

He racked his brain trying to figure out if his neighbor was someone he’d met before. Maybe in passing in the stairwell, or in the laundry room? Was this a man or a woman? Were they a real neighbor at all? He remembered bitterly the time his neighbor in the last apartment building had turned out to be a Shield agent. Maybe Tony or Sam were playing a joke on him? He briefly considered calling the scientist again. Regardless, whoever this neighbor was, they were familiar with the old soldier’s music taste.

It was seven in the morning. Tony probably wouldn’t be awake yet, if he’d even gone to bed at all. Steve made coffee and started some housekeeping he’d put off during a mission.

The neighbor let the whole album play before the music ended. They didn’t replay it afterwards.

The second time he heard the music there was singing with it. That’s how he found out his neighbor was definitely a woman. A lovely mezzo-soprano voice lilted through layers of orchestra and running water.

Steve, upon the discovery that (1) his neighbor was female, (2) she could sing beautifully, and (3) she was currently singing in the shower, had the decency to blush like a gentleman. He sat like that on his couch, legs propped up, book in hand, face red as a tomato for six minutes until his gaze could refocus on the printed words in front of him.

She sang through the whole album, a different yet familiar one this time, continuing after the shower stopped running. When the album was over, there was a brief pause until he heard the door down the hallway open and shut. She was leaving her apartment.

It was eight in the evening.

He looked up from his book towards his own front door. It was at that moment that a seconds-long daydream, like something from a Gene Kelly film, played out in Steve’s head. A daydream in which he hopped off his couch with an appropriate degree of urgency, book discarded. He would open his door to see the flash of her hair disappearing down the stairs. He would call after her and ask for her name. He would stop at the top of the stairs and lay eyes on her for the first time, and she would be beautiful, probably dolled up to go out with her own friends. She would look up at him with a dazzling smile and say--

Steve shook himself. His heart was pounding in his chest. The heat returned to his cheeks. What a silly thought.

The third time, he had started it. He hadn’t been aware she was in her apartment or he wouldn’t have played it so loud. He had spent the day cleaning the apartment and listening to some records of his own. He was up to his elbows in bleach, scrubbing his bathtub when the current album finished in the other room. He wasn’t in a hurry to switch discs.

It was maybe two minutes before he heard her voice on the other side of the wall. It was distant, like she wasn’t in her bathroom, but rather, deeper in her apartment. She was singing the words to the last song he’d played, unaccompanied. The rhythm was perfect, and she imitated the vocal tone of the time period in a way he didn’t know was possible. When she came across a line or two that she didn’t know, the lyrics faded into light humming.

Steve realized he had stopped scrubbing to listen better.

He wondered briefly if she knew how to dance to this kind of music. Evidently, it was something she had an interest in; surely she could have the musicality to dance. Then his thoughts were bombarded by the revolutionary notion that if she couldn’t, he would love to show her how.

Before the serum, Steve had trouble finding partners to go to dances with. Bucky, of course, had been kind enough to teach him a couple dances anyways, for practice. It wasn’t until after the serum that Steve had been confident enough to actually invite a girl or two onto the floor for a foxtrot. And by the time he went into the ice he wasn’t half bad at it.

Peggy would have been impressed with it, he thought bittersweetly.

It had taken him a long time to make peace with the dance he missed with Peggy, but he realized by now that it wouldn’t be fair to deny himself the chance to dance again. Or fall in love again, for that matter.

Steve’s thoughts came to a halt.

He had stopped scrubbing a while ago. The singing had stopped too, although he couldn’t place when.

As confusing as these thoughts and feelings were, when he took up the scrub brush again, Steve wished with unmatched desperation that she would sing some more.

The fourth time, she was playing an artist he did not recognize at all. The big band style and the songs were the same as the ones the two neighbors had listened to before, but he couldn’t place the singer. This troubled Steve greatly.

It was practically routine by now. She would play music and sing at seven in the morning, presumably while she got ready for work; and every once in a while, she would do the same in the evening while she got ready for bed or maybe to go out with friends. If Steve was home to hear either, and he usually was, he spent the time in a trance, listening attentively while drawing, reading a book, or drinking his coffee.

The songs however were typically ones he’d heard before, so this new voice was decidedly not part of the routine. After the fourth or fifth track, the curiosity ate the supersoldier alive, and he picked up his cell phone.

“Cap-sicle. Are you calling me from your rotary phone? How long did it take you to dial this number?” Tony Stark was relentless.

“Shut up, I have an important question for you.”

“Is it something you could Google? We’ve shown you Google,” Tony rambled. “Pepper, haven’t we shown Cap Google?” He could hear Tony yelling, aside.

The phone couldn’t pick up Pepper’s response. There was the sound of a toolbox falling followed by explitory grunts.

Steve padded closer to the bathroom door, and continued, “Do you know who this is?”

He held the phone out, microphone first in the hopes that it would pick up the music through the wall.

It was Pepper who answered, “Oh, that’s Harry Connick Jr. We hosted him at a fundraiser once, I think. He’s wonderful”

“He’s alive?” Steve asked curiously. He didn’t know people alive today still made music like this.

Steve was scribbling the name into his notebook when the neighbor started to sing again.

“Oh my god, Cap, is that a girl? Pepper, that’s a girl!”

Steve’s heart skipped a beat at Tony’s question. He pressed the phone back to his ear and ran as far from the bathroom as he could. Yes, it was a girl. Steve wanted to say, But not one I’ve met.

Pepper’s voice floated through the phone, “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

“I don’t,” Steve said before hanging up.

After the fourth time, Tony teased Steve about the music as often as he got the chance. They would be gearing up for a mission, and Tony would ask if Steve needed to play a pump up song and then suggest some sappy track title by The Rat Pack. Natasha caught on the fastest, as did Clint shortly after that. As far as Steve could tell, though, the others on the team didn’t quite know a girl was involved. Tony had enough respect not to let that cat out of the bag yet. But it was only a matter of time.

The mockery and chuckles would die down as soon as they got on-site for their missions, and by then Steve would be pushing any thoughts of thin walls, showers, and record players far from his mind. For the sake of his survival, of course. He couldn’t imagine what would happen in his line of work if he was caught daydreaming.

It wasn’t until he was on his way back to headquarters that Steve let his mind wander to thoughts of his neighbor’s voice or her showering habits. (Bucky would have elbowed him if he’d heard that thought, either proudly or disapprovingly, depending on the day.)

It hadn’t taken long for Steve to realize that he looked forward to coming home to the music a little too much; but it was taking longer for him to acknowledge that coming home and hearing her was so relieving to him because it meant they were both safe and sound again.

That wasn’t a bad thing to look forward to, right?

The fifth time Steve heard the music, Natasha and Tony heard it too. The minute it started, Steve knew he was done for.

The two avengers had come over to his place, he wasn’t sure what for specifically; maybe they had just been bored since their respective partners were preoccupied with work and thought bothering Steve would be a good use of their time. They were standing in Steve’s living room bickering about some bet Tony had made with Clint the previous weekend, when an enthusiastic, syncopated band intro played audibly from behind The Wall. Natasha and Tony’s words died on their lips as they slowly turned their gazes towards the bathroom doorway. Then, as the lyrics began, they turned their heads perfectly in sync with each other to look at Steve, who (until now) had been turning the pages of a newspaper mindlessly while they argued.

It was too late to duck behind the pages. Natasha’s critical gaze had already caught the pink undertones overcoming the supersoldier’s cheeks. As embarrassed as Steve was, he was fighting hard to keep a smile off his face at the sound of the voice.

Tony pointed a hand at the offending Wall, and said, “She’s your neighbor?”

“Is this what you do now?” Natasha asked Steve. “You don’t go on dates, because you have a crush on the record player from the apartment next door?”

If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d say she sounded offended.

“You’re dating your neighbor?” Tony asked again, his hand still pointing.

“We’re not dating,” clarified Steve. “I’ve never even talked to her.” He hadn’t meant for that to slip out.

Now Tony and Natasha looked even more shocked.

“You’re joking?” Tony yelled.

Steve winced. He hoped his neighbor hadn’t heard that.

Tony started marching towards the front door. Steve leapt off the couch to stop him before he did something Steve would never recover from.

What ensued in Steve Rogers’ apartment in the next few minutes could only be described as a superhero, sibling-style brawl. The object of the game was simple. Tony and Nat did everything they could to get out the front door to meet the mysterious jazz singer, embarrassing Steve in the process. And Steve did everything he could to stop them. Everything.

He and Tony exchanged kicks and punches. There were some illegal bites and scratches on Romanoff’s part. Headlock, armlock, leglock. Steve tried it all. The coffee table got smashed to bits under Steve’s weight when Nat thought it would be smart to flip him over her shoulder. He was just pulling himself back on his feet when he heard the unmistakable sound of Tony’s Iron Man suit repulsor. Then silence.

Sure enough, his arm was outstretched, the Iron Man gauntlet encasing his left hand. Steve’s gaze followed the direction of the blast from his position on the floor.

There was a hole in Steve’s wall. His bathroom wall. Which also meant Tony Stark had just put a hole in his neighbor’s wall.

Steve’s eyes rolled, and he let his head fall back onto the floor with a thunk. At least the shower isn’t running this time.

Nat was stepping over debris from the living room fight to the bathroom to peer through the hole, her boots on the floor making the only sound in the two units. The hole was about the size of a teacup saucer and was smouldering at the edges. She straightened up and looked at the boys.

“Well, you better go apologize, Steve,” the redhead exclaimed, not without smugness.

“Yeah, Steve, that doesn’t look good,” Tony said, delighted.

Steve, jabbed the back of Tony’s knee with his elbow. It wasn’t enough to knock him over, but it was enough to make Tony stumble and scowl.

Steve wasn’t too quick to get back on his feet. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his face felt hot. These nerves reminded him of when he’d asked girls out before the serum, when he’d been nervous because he knew they’d say no. After the serum, it was easier, because he knew they would say yes. Now he was nervous because he didn’t know what his neighbor would say at all. He’d just put a hole through her bathroom wall!

Tony was already in the hallway, gauntlets retracted and concealed. Steve approached the door, as Tony lifted his hand to knock. Steve looked over his shoulder at Natasha who was leaning nonchalantly against his own door frame.

The door in front of him swung open.

“Hi,” Tony began, charmingly, “Sorry to bother you, but my friend here has been enamored with your music tastes, and hasn’t had the guts to talk to you.”

Steve tried to ignore the fact that Tony had just used the word “enamored”, and that the word “taste” made Steve’s eyes drop to the woman’s lips.

“Sounded like there was a fight,” she said, almost teasingly. Almost.

“Anyways, I put the hole in your wall, which I can pay for by the way. But it’s all his fault.” Tony gestured plainly to Steve.

There was quietness in the air as the two neighbors laid eyes on each other for the first time.

The woman’s body language came across as confident but curious. She’d opened the door ready to argue with whoever had done that to her wall, common love for music aside. The fact that it turned out to be Tony Stark hadn’t made her irritation vanish. She did look like she wanted to know more, though. Her arms were at her sides, and her lips were slightly parted, ready to make another teasing quip.

The woman’s hair was the color of chocolate and dripping water onto the shoulders of her shirt. She had flushed cheeks which were dotted with freckles. Her eyes made Steve’s heartbeat stutter a little bit. They were dark and framed by naturally thick lashes, but they danced the line between being green and blue. He wondered to himself if they ever changed color and decided in that moment that he would love to find out. She was average height and build for a woman in her twenties, which he surmised she was.

She observed that Steve’s blond hair was slightly mussed from the roughhousing, and there was sawdust stuck to the back and shoulders of his shirt from the shattered coffee table. His hand was rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly, and his complexion was having a hard time hiding his shame. Sure, she’d seen Steve Rogers’ pictures in the news before, but none of the pictures did him justice. He was gorgeous. Despite his nervous body language, he exuded fortitude and strength, and she decided she wouldn’t mind if this neighbor of hers did a little bit of fighting on her behalf sometime. She hoped her breath hadn’t caught too audibly when her eyes met his ocean blue ones. He had the kind of eyes that could give away any emotion she asked them to.

Steve and the neighbor broke out of their trace when the door down the hall clicked shut. Tony and Natasha were gone, they’d disappeared into Rogers’ apartment. Neither neighbor had even noticed.

Steve let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “He will fix the hole from the repulsor blast,” he assured her. She gave him a funny look at his vocabulary.

“I’m Steve.” He offered his hand to her like a gentleman.

“I’m Rita.” They shook hands. “Can he fix the record player too?” she asked.

Steve grimaced, and muttered an inaudible “oh no”.

She left the doorway and came back a minute later with the record player. It was completely mangled from the energy blast, vinyl Harry Connick Jr. album practically fused to it.

“It was within the line of fire, I guess.”

“It’s a good thing I have one you can borrow,” Steve quipped, respectfully.

Rita chuckled, and they both looked shyly at their feet. “Won’t you miss it?” she asked.

His gaze snapped to her face. “I like what I hear from your side better anyways.” The words spilled out before he could stop them, but once they were spoken, he decided he liked her reaction far too much to ever take them back.

The record player almost slipped out of her hands completely. While she fumbled, he caught it from the bottom with one hand easily. She tried not to notice the way her heart leapt from fleeting fright or the way his arm flexed under the machine.

“Can I take you out for dinner sometime?” he asked earnestly.

“To say sorry?” She baited, meeting his eyes.

“The first time, yes. I would use the dates after that to say other things, if you would have me.”

“Yes.”

They smiled at each other, as she hefted the defeated record player back into her own arms.

Just then Tony yelled from Steve’s unit, “Did you do it? Did you ask her?”, followed by a muffled grunt that was undoubtedly from Natasha hitting him on the stomach.

“Yeah,” Rita and Steve yelled back together.

“Atta boy,” Nat called proudly through the hole.

Tony really was going to fix that.

#Captain america #steve rogers #tony stark #natasha romanoff #fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #vinyl #records #neighbors au #blind date #the rat pack #gene kelly reference #marvel #writing #steve rogers x oc #mine

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angelsandacceptance · 3 years

Text

Genie of the Lamp

Chase and Harley’s plane touches down on the tarmac in Oahu, Hawaii. After everyone leaves the plane the girls head to their hotel with an ocean view. On the plane Harley had started rereading the Harry Potter series for the thousandth time. Chase, rather, had binge watched horror movies while cross-stitching (and has now made up her mind to never admit how many times she stabs herself).

“This is the nicest place we’ve stayed in a while,” Harley comments when the two enter the hotel room. The room is quaint, but lavish compared to the motels they were used to staying in. This room had high, white walls, a large bathroom, with a jacuzzi tub and shower. Ornate mirrors hang on the walls opposite each bed, with a large flat screen tv in the center.

Chase sighs, running and landing on her back as she jumps onto one of the beds with a laugh. “This place is awesome! Ugh, just what we’ve needed. When’s the last time either of us had an actual vacation?”

“There was that week I decided to visit my family.”

“Yeah, but that was still a while ago. This is also like, real vacation. I mean, look at that view!” Chase points out the large window, spanning most of the far wall, curtains pulled back to display the gorgeous view; they can both see the beach, with the waves lapping at the shore, few people dotting the shoreline as they relax in the sun. Green, lush wildlife grows abundantly all around them. “We don’t see that everyday. Can’t tell you when the last time I was at the beach was.”

“Me either. I can’t wait to be in the ocean again.”

“Same! Let’s change real quick, then we can head down to the water.”

The girls change in their swimsuits, before grabbing towels and running down to the beach. Harley has to chastise Chase, who forgets to put sunscreen on and begins to turn pink within minutes.

After Harley is satisfied with Chase’s cover of sunscreen, which only helps to make her look somehow paler than normal, they race to the water. Chase grabs Harley in a bridal style hold, only to quickly drop her in the surprisingly warm waves. Chase, however, is not thinking clearly when she does this, because Harley’s arms are laced around her neck, dragging her into the water as well. They both surface, spluttering, wiping the water from their eyes. They both shriek and laugh at each other’s reactions as they dive further into the waves, splashing each other.

***

The girls head to a food shack on the beach soaking wet, towels loosely tied around their hips, though not bothering to catch the water dripping from their hair. Chase brushes hers back with her fingers, pushing the accidental pink strands from her face (accidental because the die was purple but didn’t stick). Harley simply ignores her own Auburn-red hair, which drips slightly from her bangs.

A waiter comes by, asking if they are ready to order. Having known what their first meal in Hawaii would be, they both nod excitedly. They each order fish and chips and Chase gets a fruity cocktail.

“God, I love fish.” Harley says, eating a piece.

Chase, taking a bite of her cod, nods enthusiastically. “This is so amazing. Ugh, the boys are missing out.”

“Yeah, too bad Dean’s afraid of flying. If he wasn’t they might’ve come.”

“I don’t know. Sam did say that he didn’t want to go so far. But yeah, Dean probably could have changed his mind. I mean, c’mon dude I’m scared of heights and everything, but you don’t see that stopping me.”

“True, guess he’s just a scaredy cat.”

Chase laughs. “Don’t let him catch you saying that. It might hurt his feelings.”

“Then he’s a sensitive scaredy cat.”

“Another thing to not let him catch you saying.”

“Let him hear it. I’ve caught him saying worse about me.”

“Yeah, he probably wouldn’t say anything he’d just go in the corner and pout.”

“That would be hilarious.”

Chase nods agreeing, taking another bite of her food.

***

The girls got back to their hotel room to find a collective amount of 30 missed calls from Dean and texts from Sam saying he tried to stop him. Harley immediately calls him back and he picks up before the first ring.

“Where the hell were you? I thought the plane went down!” Dean shouts.

“We just went swimming. Chill,” Harley says, trying to calm him down.

“Would it’ve killed you to call... Wait, you went swimming? What are you wearing?”

“Gross!” Chase yells into the phone.

Dean hesitates before defending himself, “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“You’re Dean, of course you did,” Chase says.

“Maybe I’ll tell you later,” Harley teases.

Chase turns to Harley with wide eyes, mouthing, ‘Oh, we are so talking about that later.’ before turning back to the phone. “Don’t get any funny ideas there, Deano. I can and will kick your ass.”

Dean and Sam both laugh over the phone, Dean having obviously put the girls on speaker.

“Ten bucks on Chase,” Sam comments.

“Hey!” Dean exclaims.

“I’m so not getting involved in this one,” Harley says.

“So no one’s betting on me?”

“Course not, Dean. Why would they?” Chase laughs. The girls can both just imagine the pout on his face. “Look, now you know we aren’t dead, so can we go to enjoy our vacation please?”

“What if I want to talk to you?” Dean asks.

“You literally could have come with us, but noooo. You’re too much of a scaredy cat to.”

“Hey, you’re afraid of heights, Chase,” Dean says in defense.

“Yeah, but you don’t see that stopping me. I promise, we will talk to you later, okay?”

“I want nightly and morning updates!”

“Nightly,” Harley says, trying to compromise.

“And pictures,” Sam says.

“Okay, okay, we promise.” “Good,” Dean says. “I will talk to you two later.”

The girls bid their goodbyes, then hang up, sighing in relief before looking at each other in disbelief. They both burst out laughing, thinking of how Dean is paranoid, but how it is also endearing.

“Morning and night. I mean really? Once a day is more than enough,” Harley mutters.

“Really though. What does he think’s gonna happen?”

“Who knows what goes on in that brain of his.”

“Well obviously what goes on in that brain of his is ideas of you in a swimsuit.”

“Any girl in a swimsuit more like.”

“I dunno about that. He seems very keen on just you. However, I have to ask. ‘Maybe I’ll tell you later’ probably did not help him think about anything else. What was with that comment?” Chase fake shudders. “It was in front of me and everything.”

“I was just teasing him. It’s not like it meant anything,” Harley says plopping down on her bed.

“Right. It meant nothing. Nothing at all. I bet that is definitely the truth,” Chase says, sarcasm dripping heavily from each word. “Because thinking that you would say that and not mean it in any way would be preposterous. Of course I know you were teasing him! My point is you wouldn’t be teasing him without due cause.”

“I really would be though.”

Chase raises an eyebrow. “Mmmhmmm. Sure. Let me just call bullshit real quick.”

“Okay maybe I wanted him to think of me a little, but that’s it.” Harley says defending herself.

“Yeah,” Chase scoffs. “Just ‘A little’.”

***

The girls woke up the next morning, well, Chase woke up. Mainly because Harley didn’t know how to be quiet while she’s getting ready.

Sitting up onto her elbows, Chase checks her phone, groaning at the sight of a steady 7:21 staring back at her. She turns to Harley with a frown and creased brows. “You seriously couldn’t have waited nine more minutes for my alarm to go off?”

“Sorry, Scooby wasn’t cutting it for me anymore,” Harley says as South Nashville Blues plays at full volume in the bathroom and she does her makeup.

Chase, meanwhile, flops backwards onto her bed, simultaneously grabbing a pillow and covering her face. “Wake me up in nine minutes.”

“Six minutes now.”

“Wake me up in six minutes then!” Chase exclaims, her voice muffled by the pillow.

“Fine,” Harley sighs, dragging the word out before asking herself, “Should I even bother doing my hair? It’s just going to get wet. We’ll probably get some photos on land though. Right?”

“I’m curling mine, then I’m not gonna care until after we get back out of the water. After that, I’ll probably just braid it.”

“I can’t stand when my hair’s curly. I think I’m gonna straighten it. Just in case. Hey, did you bring any hairspray? I didn’t pack any.”

“Oh yeah, I did. I wanted to make sure my curls stayed even if it got windy. Why? You don’t need it to straighten your hair.”

“Yeah, but you can use it to waterproof your makeup.”

Chase shoots up in bed. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah. I’ve done it before.”

“Okay, I’ve got to try this! I was just planning on skipping eyeliner, but now I don’t have to.” Chase gets out of bed, silencing her alarm before it could go off, joining Harley in the bathroom.

***

Harley fiddles with the radio before giving up and playing something on her phone.

Chase groans, letting up on the gas. “Why is this car so touchy?” She turns to Harley, gesturing slightly to the speedometer. “This car is so annoying! Jack would never do this to me.”

“It’s because it’s a newer car. That’s why it’s so touchy.”

Chase scoffs. “That doesn’t give it the right.”

“It’s just for a couple of days.”

“The audacity!” Chase exclaims dramatically.

“Calm down, it’s just for a little while.”

Chase sighs, continuing as though Harley hadn’t spoken. “Just like the audacity you have, claiming you don’t like my brother.”

“Hey, we're not in Jack. No talk about me liking Dean.”

Chase rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say.”

“Thank you.”

Sudden realization dawns on Chase. “Wait, you just admitted you liked him!” Chase refrains from screeching-but just barely.

“I didn’t mean I liked him. I just meant you think I like him.”

“Ugh. Okay, okay, fine whatever. Be in denial. What’s our first scene gonna look like for pictures?”

“We could do a shot like the main poster for H2O.”

“Ooo, yes.”

“And then I brought my waterproof camera.”

“Wait, you did bring it? I forgot my polaroid sadly.”

“Yeah, I remembered thankfully.”

“Okay, cool. Now here we are! Surf ‘N’ Shack. Think they sell food? I didn’t eat breakfast.”

“I’m sure they sell food.”

“Good.”

***

The girls smile, looking out at the wake crashing onto the shore. Plenty of beach is in front of them, but there is also rocky cliffs situated to their right. The perfect place to take photos. The girls had their rented silicone mermaid tails and struggled to put them on for longer than they would like to admit.

“That was exhausting.” Harley admits as she finally gets her tail on.

“That was… unpleasant. But the pictures will be well worth it.”

“They better be,” Harley says, flipping herself over so she’s not sitting on her dorsal fin.

Chase struggles to her feet, using the surrounding rocks to help her hop closer to the water. “This is gonna take a while,” she laughs after three hops.

Harley starts crawling across the sand towards the water dragging her tail behind her. Chase laughs at her, before losing balance and falling over.

“It’s easier this way,” Harley chuckles.

“Well, it looks weird. Oh my God! I just realized. It is going to be so much harder to get this off when it’s wet!”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Well, it’ll definitely be more uncomfortable.”

“It’ll be weird for sure. Like shedding your skin.”

“I never asked, wanted, or imagined that mental image until now. So thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome. Wait, we should take the H2O photo before we reach the water.”

Chase gasps. “That’s brilliant!”

“I have my moments.”

“You mean moment, because you’re never not brilliant.”

“Aww! Thanks!”

“Well duh.” Chase scoots closer to the water. “Now, let’s get this done with so we can go swimming!”

Harley takes the photo as her arms are longer. Then they continued to crawl till they reach deep enough water to swim.

***

“I’m beached! I’m a beached whale!” Harley yells as she reaches the shore.

“I’ll save you,” Chase shouts, swimming and then scooting up the shore to Harley. Then, she lays there, tired out. “Shit, now I’m beached.”

The two girls started laughing uncontrollably at their beached state.

“Best vacation ever,” Harley says between laughs.

“I’m just glad that we get to relax and nothing is going wrong.”

“Oh god, did you just jinx it?”

Chase shrugs, peeling her tail back a little at a time. “I doubt it,” she huffs. “Seriously. We are in Hawaii on vacation for Thanksgiving. We deserve a break. I’m sure God, wherever the hell he is, recognizes our efforts, and will grant us some peace.”

“Sure, like he’s been much help before.”

“Well, he will give us peace this week, or he will be punched very, very hard when I meet him.” Chase looks to the sky. “And that’s a promise!”

Harley begins trying to kick out of her monofin before pulling the tail skin down.

Chase shimmies out of hers, kicking her legs slightly, her hands brace on the ground behind her for support. “This is one of the most annoying things I’ve ever had to deal with.” Blowing the hair out of her eyes, she continues, “What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”

“The spa and that hike to the Kaniakapupu ruins.”

“Oh, yes, a spa. That sounds like heaven.”

“It does, doesn’t it. I wanna get some gel nails so I don’t constantly have to redo them.”

“I want a fucking massage.”

“Honestly. I probably need one. Either that or a chiropractor.”

“Same. Or death.”

“You are not allowed to die on me.”

“No promises,” Chase laughs.

“Fine, but you have to come back.”

“That, I will figure out how to do. There’s no way I’m going to die and miss out on the rest of our adventures together. That, and Dean owes me twenty bucks and pie that he still hasn’t paid up for.”

“What bet was it this time?”

“Like, I don’t remember, a month ago or so, Dean told me I couldn’t eat a whole pie in ten minutes. I bet him twenty bucks and another pie. Guess who won?”

“You.”

“Oh hell yes. Anyway, you wanna get food? I could go for some good Hawaiian bbq right now.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a fun new experience.”

***

Chase puts the phone on speaker as the dial rings exactly one and a half times before Dean picks up the phone. “Chase! Thank God you called. I was about to get upset that you’d break your promise.”

The girls hear Sam sigh over the phone. “We saw those pictures you sent. You two look like you’re having fun.”

“You look hot.” Dean pauses. “Obviously I’m talking to Harley.”

“Wow, Dean. I feel so much better now,” Chase says sarcastically.

“You look nice too, Chase,” Sam amends.

“Thanks, boys. We miss you too,” Harley laughs.

“Of course you do,” Dean says, “No one to cuddle with at night.”

Chase rolls her eyes.

“You flatter yourself,” Harley retorts.

“I do,” Dean responds cheekily. “All the time. But guess what?”

“So do I?” Harley guesses.

“You flatter me too, wait- How’d you know I’d say that?”

“Because you’re predictable?” Chase guesses.

“I’m not predictable,” Dean says feigning hurt.

“I thought you were gonna say I flatter myself actually,” Harley counters.

“Well, see, I’m not predictable.”

“You kinda are, Dean,” Sam says.

“My own brother, betraying me like this.”

“What am I?” Chase asks. “I’m your sister and you’re not as offended? Rude.”

“You’re rude saying I’m predictable.”

“Well, you’re rude because-”

“Guys, really?” Sam asks, sounding tired.

“What?” Chase demands. “He started it.”

“Well, you guys are weird. I’m gonna go wash the sand out of my hair. So, bye, love you guys,” Harley says before getting up and heading to the bathroom.

“Was that an invitation?” Dean asks, thinking Harley is still near the phone.

“Ew, gross, goodbye,” Chase says, hanging up the phone, despite her brother’s protests.

Shaking her head, Chase lays down onto the bed, waiting for her turn in the shower.

***

Today the girls head out to a group tour of the Kaniakapupu Ruins. “When was the last time we went sightseeing?” Harley asks.

“Other than everytime you stare at Dean? Don’t know.”

“I don’t stare at him.”

“Yeah, okay, and I don’t- uh. I don’t. Shit, I totally forgot what I was going to say,” Chase says, turning a light shade of pink. “Anyway, these ruins sure are pretty!”

“Yeah, and so is the land around it. Absolutely stunning.”

“You’re stunning. Quick, go over there and I’ll take your picture!”

Harley goes to stand in front of a fallen archway and Chase takes her picture. “Your turn!” Harley says, stealing the camera.

Chase laughs, shaking her head, but strikes a ridiculous pose nonetheless, a hand on her hip, the other on the back of her head, sticking her tongue out at the camera. “Okay, now we should probably catch up,” Chase says, gesturing to the group a few paces ahead of them.

The rest of the tour went as normal as possible with Chase and Harley around. At least that’s what the girls thought until they overheard their tour guide talking to someone else about how a girl, Megan Brown, didn’t come back from the tour.

“Excuse me, ma’am, are you saying one of the girls disappeared?” Chase asks, interrupting the tour guide, who seemed to be talking to a head officer of some sort. “Is the tour route going to be closed down then?”

The tour guide shakes his head. “No need. It seems every couple months when we do this tour, a couple people wander off and get lost. There haven’t been any signs of animal attacks or kidnappings.”

“And you haven’t thought to handle the situation more thoroughly?”

“Have you even looked into the disappearances?” Harley asks.

“Of course,” the officer says. “But it isn’t anything you two need to be concerned about.”

“It seems that it is,” Chase continues. “If this happens so often, you’d think you would have a better handle on things.”

“As long as you two don’t wander off, you will be fine. You two girls run along and don’t get into any trouble.”

Harley and Chase huff, but listen to the instructions.

***

As Chase and Harley enter the spa, they’re surrounded by three people each. Harley has one man along with one woman, while Chase is surrounded by two women, each of them in their early thirties at the latest.

Chase and Harley give each other a thumbs up as they are led to their own spa stations, close enough to hear, talk to, and make weird faces to each other, in hopes of getting one to laugh.

“I’m Kai,” the man introduces. “And this is Kayla. The two lovely women attending you are Sarah and Halola.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“So where did you two come from?” Kayla asks. “And what are you here on? Honeymoon perhaps?”

Harley shakes her head with a laugh. “No, actually. Just vacation.”

“We just came for the early holidays. We were just at the Kaniakapupu ruins.”

“Oh! That tour. It’s always so...interesting to hear the stories once visitors come back.”

“How so?” Chase asks.

“Well, you see-”

Kayla is cut off by Halola, who says something rushed in what the girls assume is Hawaiian. Turning back to the girls, Halola smiles. “It is nothing. Just petty gossip surrounding people who aren’t smart. We really shouldn’t talk about it or bother you.”

“You mean the disappearances. Well, a girl went missing on the tour before ours. Does that really happen often?”

“Sadly, yes,” Kai says, ignoring the rolled eyes of Halola and Sarah. “But really, what happens to them is just a legend told to tourists by us locals to scare you. Really, I wouldn’t think much about it, at least for the time being. Now is your time to relax.”

“What’s the legend say?” Harley asks.

Kai smiles. “Well, legend is, King Kaniakapupu had an affair with another woman who wasn’t his queen. Driven mad with jealousy and rage, Queen Kanua’pele killed both him and his lover. Distraught over how the queen let the kingdom go after his death, he haunts the ruins, seeking revenge on any person who dares intrude in his home.”

Chase and Harley stare at him, slightly unimpressed.

“Huh. That’s a good story,” Chase says.

“Yes, yes, a story and nothing more. Not even a good story at that.”

Kai shoots Halola a look. “Ah yes, because I’m sure you prefer the older beliefs.” Halola stiffens slightly. She relaxes within a second, however.

“I simply don’t believe in ghost stories and you shouldn’t be telling them to visitors that already are aware of the very real disappearances that occur.”

“It’s alright,” Harley says.

“Yeah, trust me. Not much scares us away,” Chase laughs.

“Even so,” Halola continues. “At least relax and we can finish this process. Next, you’ll be having your massage and then manicures.”

Chase and Harley grin at each other, pushing the story Kai told them aside for the time being. Next, they were getting massages.

***

“So, that was the best thing ever!” Chase exclaims, flopping backwards onto the bed.

“Agreed! Today was awesome! Except for the whole we might have a hunt thing.”

“Uh, no. No, no, and no. I might have allowed myself to be curious, but this is my vacation, and I will not be working on it!”

“Fine, I’ll just go it alone on this one.”

“Yeah, also not happening. I know you can hold your own and everything, but I would rather not have Dean trying to kill me.”

“He won’t try to kill you.”

Chase raises an eyebrow. “Right. I guess he didn’t give you the same pep talk.”

“Seriously, Dean?”

“Yes, seriously! You leave her alone for a moment, I’ll kill you. And you better not be running off on your own either. You are to go, have fun or whatever, and then come back. NO hunts, NO jobs, NO nothing. Capisce?”

Chase rolls her eyes. “Why would either of us need to go off on our own?”

“Because it’s you and her. Somehow, you guys are gonna do something or you’ll say something and boom. You’re separated and she’s in trouble or you are, and then you’ll fix it.”

“So you think we would fix it though?”

“That won’t keep me from killing you if something goes wrong.”

“Of course, blame me!”

“That’s what I plan on.”

“Fine, fine, okay! I’ll be careful. We won’t go off on our own. We’ll keep you posted.”

“Good. Now go have fun. And call me when you land.”

Chase makes a face at him. “Yes, dad.”

“Wait, he said all that?” Harley asks.

“Yep! So now we know who his favorite is. And it isn’t me, his own flesh and blood,” Chase sighs dramatically.

“Wow,” Harley says, so low it barely registers.

“I know, right? It’s like he doesn’t trust us!”

“He really said all that?”

“Yeah. He sure is a buzzkill.”

“So we don’t listen to him. I mean we rarely do anyway.” Chase pauses, thinking for a moment. “You’re right about that. But I still say we don’t get involved unless we have to, okay?”

“Just one last look around the ruins?” Chase glares at Harley before sighing loudly. “Fine, I guess. But we go with a guide and group again. If something happens on that trip, then we can investigate.”

“Deal!”

***

“I told you there wasn’t any reason to be here again,” Chase complains, staring down at the EMF reader.

“Wait, do you smell something?”

“Does bullshit count?”

“No, it smells like metallic-y.”

“Thought you were gonna say sulfur there for a moment. But yeah. Smells like blood,” Chase says, glancing back at the group. She takes a head count, then frowns. “See anyone missing from the group?”

“The chick with the giant sun hat?”

“Yeah, and the tour guide.”

“He didn’t want us looking into the disappearances,” Harley points out.

“Yeah, and now he and another woman are gone. What should we do?”

“We should split up and look for clues.”

“You watch too much Scooby Doo. Honestly, best plan right now is to probably stay with the group and see if the tour guide comes back. What’s his name?”

“Paulo, I think. And yeah you’re right, about both.”

“Of course I am.”

Ten or fifteen minutes later, the girls can’t be sure, Paulo seems to have reappeared from nowhere. He stands with a few others, pointing out carvings in the pillars against the far entrance. However, upon further inspection, the woman who had disappeared along with him is still gone.

“Okay, maybe it’s a good thing we came back,” Chase relents.

“Told you.”

“Oh, don’t pull that card.”

“I’m pulling that card.”

“Rude,” Chase pouts.

“Well, I’m not the nicest person in the world.”

“Fair. To be honest, if you were, we probably wouldn’t get along nearly as much as we do. Speaking of doing, what do we do about Pablo over there.”

“Paulo.”

“Same difference.”

“Find out what he is and gank him,” Harley shrugs.

“Guess that ghost story is just that. A story. Of course, a ghost would have been too easy.”

“I don’t know some are pretty nasty.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. Still, we at least would have known what to do. Now, we don’t have many leads, other than that,” Chase emphasizes ‘that’, nodding her head at Paulo. “We should go back to the hotel and come back here tonight.”

“Agreed.”

***

Harley takes up dialling Dean for the night. “Hey, we’re still alive,” she says as soon as he picks up.

“Good,” Dean says dead serious.

“Let a little laughter in your life. Jeez.”

“I’m good thanks.”

“Buzzkill.”

“I am a joy to be around.”

“Ladies, ladies, you’re both very pretty. Moving along?” Chase says breaking the two up.

“Duh, have you seen me?” Harley jokes.

“I have and I can’t help but like what I see,” Dean flirts.

“Oh shush, I’m not gonna be one of your one night stands.”

“I never said that.”

“It’s what you were thinking.”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea what I think of you.”

“Good things I hope.”

“More than good.”

“Ackomygodthatissoackkkeee,” Chase squeals in a high pitched tone, almost incoherently.

“What was that?” Dean asks.

“That was me puking because you’re disgusting, duh.”

“Yeah, right, okay.”

“I mean it was disgustingly sweet,” Harley says laughing, “I thought you didn’t like chick flick moments.”

“I don’t.”

“Suuuure you don’t. How’s Sam doing? I haven’t heard from him.”

“I’m good, just tired,” The girls could hear Sam say in the background.

Harley rolls her eyes before saying, “We miss you tons.”

“I miss you guys too,” Sam laughs.

“I miss you moreeee,” Chase over exaggerates.

“Yeah, probably,” Sam quips.

“Ouch,” Chase mutters.

“Well I’m gonna let you guys go so Sammy can get some beauty sleep before he kills me,” Dean says.

“He’ll kill you anyway. You’re just that annoying,” Chase says.

“Says you!” Dean fires back.

“Yeah, says me, the least annoying sibling.”

“You are so not the least annoying,” Dean says.

“You’re both annoying. Shut up!” Sam shouts from wherever he is in the room (his voice sounds muffled, as though buried in a pillow).

“Bye Dean, bye Sam!” Harley calls out.

“Can you believe the gall of that man?” Chase exclaims after the phone call ends. “The nerve?”

“I thought it was hilarious,” Harley says.

“Of course you did. You were still distracted about Dean’s previous comment!”

“Which one?”

“You’re actually asking me that? As if you haven’t been replaying that sentence in your head for the past ten minutes? Please. I’m not that dumb.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, sure you don’t.”

“I don’t!”

“Okay, okay, whatever you say.”

***

The two hunters stand in front of the ruins, flashlights illuminating the dirt path in front of them as they stare up at the crumbling walls of the old palace.

“I guess we should sp-”

I swear to God, if you say the words “split up”, I’m going to super glue you to my side.”

“You got a better idea?”

“No,” Chase mutters dejectedly.

“Then yes, we should split up.”

“Fine, but the moment something happens, call me, okay?”

“Duh. I’m not an idiot.”

“Jury’s out on that one. Let’s go.”

“Oh my god, you’re so rude.”

“You’re the one suggesting we split up so, am I wrong?”

“Yes, you are, because we’ll probably be fine.”

“We’ll see.”

***

Chase wanders down yet another corridor, softly humming AC/DC under her breath, a habit she has for when she’s nervous. Flashing her light against the walls turns up nothing, though the sight is pretty.

Suddenly, after about half an hour, something flickers in her peripheral vision. She whirls around quickly, all sound being cut off. Cautiously, she walks over to the doorway she’d seen the movement coming from.

She pokes the flashlight through the doorway first, before following with her head. She looks left. Nothing. She looks right. Also nothing.

Chase sighs, placing a hand to her head, squinting her eyes tightly, as though that could make her headache disappear. Turning on her heel, she walks back into the corridor, only to collide into something hard. She stumbles back, before noticing she’d walked into a wall.

She really shouldn’t walk with her eyes closed.

She growls under her breath, walking through a high arch, leading into a large open space, equally as dusty as the past few rooms. She checks behind the large pillars, hoping to see some evidence of...anything, really. Just as she’s about to leave into another hallway, she spots a flicker of movement again. Turning her light to the center far wall of the room, she sees a large stage-like stone, atop it what looked like human remains of some kind.

“Perfect,” Chase mutters, wandering over. “Just perfect.”

Chase grabs her phone, bringing up the name “Harley Quinn”, pressing the number.

“Yeah? Find something?”

“Yeah. Human remains. You know, body parts, some bones. The usual.”

“Lovely,” Harley mutters.

“Yeah, anyway, I think there’s something still here because I keep seeing movement. I don’t know, I may just be paranoid. But- oh for fuck’s sake.”

“What’s up?”

Chase whips out her gun, firing a couple shots at the figure looming over her, of course, making little headway in keeping it at bay.

“You stupid Aladdin character looking ass,” Chase mutters, dropping her phone after the figure makes a swipe at her. The woman, djinn, grins at her, reaching out a hand.

“Chase? Chase!” She hears Harley’s voice shouting from the other side of the phone call, before her vision turns white.

***

Harley searched the ruins high and low for any sign of Chase before finding her phone on the ground. She pocketed it before surveying the area. She noted the body drained of blood. That and Chase calling the creature an ‘Aladdin character looking ass’ clued her into it being a djinn they were hunting. She headed to the hotel room pocketing a silver knife.

Harley drove to the nearest sheep farm. She picked the locks and found a lamb before calling Sam.

“Hello?” He asked, yawning.

“Hey. Do not put it on speakerphone. Don’t tell Dean it’s me.”

“Dean’s asleep. Why are you calling?”

“Swear none of this leaves this phone call first.”

“I swear. Now, what’s going on?”

“Chase and I were hunting a djinn, but we didn’t know it was a djinn yet so we didn’t have the proper weapons. Basically she got kidnapped by the djinn and now I have to murder a lamb and I’m freakin’ out man.”

“Okay, slow down. Chase got kidnapped?”

“Yeah, please don’t be mad.” “I’m not mad, just worried. Do you need backup?”

“No, I just need to kill this lamb, but like it’s so precious and sweet.”

“Who do you care about more? Chase or the lamb?”

“Chase, but the lamb is really up there.”

“Look, just stab it. You just need the blood. You don’t have to kill it.”

“Right, yeah, I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I still blame myself for all my fish dying after I cleaned their tank when I was in grade school. I still feel guilty about that shit.”

“That’s...okay, um just pretend it’s a werewolf.”

“I have aphantasia, Sam! I literally can’t do that!”

“Okay, then you’re just going to have to do it. Don’t think, just do.”

“Okay?” Harley squeezes her eyes shut blindly bringing the knife down until she hears the bleat of the lamb. She opened her eyes and saw the white of the lambs fluff turn red. The knife was coated in the lamb’s blood. “I did it, oh god, I did it. Fuck, I’m a monster. I mean I’m always a monster, but now I’m even more of a monster.”

“Harley, calm down. You’re not a monster.”

“Yes, I am,” She says, tears building up in her eyes.

Sam sighs, “Just do me a favor and go rescue Chase.”

“Right, yeah, bye. I’ll call you after I rescue her.”

“Alright, bye, Harley.”

***

Chase laughs, pointing mockingly at one of her best friends. Harley sits close by her side, twirling a knife. Setting the camera up to take another picture, Nathaniel flips off the moon.

“Shit, this is not going to come out right. We should’ve picked a different night.”

“Hey, you invited me out, not the other way around,” Chase says.

The horizon is surprisingly easy to make out, considering it’s eleven at night. The full moon illuminates the scenery, a small town in the distance, it’s lights twinkling lazily.

“Can you fix this for me?” Harley asks.

“Sure,” Chase responds, starting to braid Harley’s hair.

“Ah! Got one I actually like,” Nathaniel shouts in victory.

“Hey, we wanna see!” Harley says.

Nathaniel bends down, showing the two girls a photo of them, sitting next to each other, looking out in the distance. You can’t see much detail, but the two are relaxed and enjoying themselves.

---

Chase runs through the house, getting chased by an overly loud man.

“Dean, Dean, stop! It wasn’t me!”

Getting scooped up by her older brother, she dissolves into a fit of laughter, getting tickled in all of the worst places. “Then who was it?” Dean demands playfully.

“Sam, okay, it was Sam!”

Dean lets go of Chase and turns to slowly look at their youngest brother. “It was you!”

Sam looks at Chase. “Snitch.” He takes off down the stairs and all three can distantly hear Bobby yell, “No running in the house, ya idjits!”

Chase watches on, taking deep breaths, laughing slightly still.

---

“I did it, I did it!”

“Um, hello?” Harley asks.

“Okay, fine, we did it.”

“Was that so hard?”

Bobby comes up behind the two girls, hugging them both. “I’m so proud of you two.”

“Stop, Bobby, you’re gonna wrinkle the gown.”

“You’ve already graduated, what does it matter now?” Dean asks, taking yet another picture.

“It’s about the pride,” Sam says. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t understand. I may not have graduated from a fancy college like you three, but I am still the coolest one here.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Dean,” Chase says.

“Yeah, obviously, I’m the coolest one,” Harley adds.

“Okay, okay, I relent. Obviously, I am the coolest one here, other than my smartass fiancee.”

Dean wraps Harley up in a hug, while Sam and Chase roll their eyes, mouthing ��I told you so’ to themselves.

“Okay, okay, I want one last picture of all of us,” Sam says.

Sam asks a random family to take a picture and they oblige. Sam stands at the very back, his arms around Dean and Bobby’s shoulders, while Harley and Chase stand side by side in the very front. Their smiles are wide, and their hearts content. They wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

***

Harley arrives at the ruins, african dream root in her messenger bag and silver knife in hand. She began searching in the djinn-eral area that Chase disappeared from. She found Chase’s phone before she found her in a cavern by the ruins.

“Chase!” Harley yells as soon as she sees her. She runs up to her friend's limp hanging body, and gently slaps her cheek trying to wake her up. It doesn’t work so instead she gently cuts her friend free and lays her on the cavern floor and takes out her IV. Harley then frees who she assumes is Sunhat Lady. She assumes as she has since lost her hat.

The djinn enters the cave and it takes a moment for Harley to place her heavily tattooed face. “Halola, right?” Harley asks.

“You remembered, I’m surprised.”

“I never forget a pretty face. Too bad I’ll have to kill you.” Harley frowns before lunging at Halola. She dodges and tries to grab Harley’s neck. Harley ducks and drives the silver blade through the djinn’s heart. Halola screams then goes limp.

***

“Chase! Thank god you’re alive!” Harley yells hugging her for dear life.

Chase moves away slightly, very confused.“Look, I know I said I was stressed about the job interview, but it’s nice to know you have so much faith in me. Could you possibly extract your limbs from me now?”

“No you don’t get it. This isn’t your life. We’re hunters. We were in Hawaii hunting a djinn when you got attacked,” Harley says extracting her limbs from Chase, “All this is fake.”

Chase looks at Harley with an increasing degree of bewilderment on her face as Harley continues to talk. “Uh huh, sure. And you and I haven’t been roommates since college, you’re not engaged to my brother, I’m not about to work for the high end firm I’ve been trying for years to get, and Sam isn’t a bad singer.”

“I’m sorry what?! Me and I’m assuming, Dean are engaged? Wow this is a weird world you’ve created.”

“Dean and I.” Chase gives Harley a blank look. “And no. Sam.”

“Me and Sam?! What the actual fuck!”

“Sam and I. And that was sarcasm, dumbass. How much sleep did you get last night?”

“None. Vampire remember.”

“Okay, so no more mixing alcohol and horror movies for you. Got it.” Chase stands up from her seat. “You should probably get some rest. You’re not acting like yourself.”

“I don’t drink. The whole murderous bloodlust thing doesn’t mix well with alcohol. And I am acting like myself, because I african dream rooted into your brain.”

“Okay, so do I have to go along with what I’m assuming is another improv thing or can I ask- what the hell is african dream root and what is going on?”

“Improv? Okay. Well african dream root lets you go into other people’s dream so you can talk to them-”

“Uh huh, sounds fake but continue,” Chase says, waving a hand.

“And you got touched by a djinn while we were on vacation in Hawaii.” Harley says increasingly impatiently.

“Wait, we went to hawaii?” Chase thinks for a moment. “Djinn. Djinn, djinn, why does that ring a bell? Isn’t that like a genie. Like Aladdin?”

**“You stupid Aladdin character looking ass,” Chase mutters, dropping her phone after the figure makes a swipe at her. The woman, djinn, grins at her, reaching out a hand.

“Chase? Chase!” **

Chase lurches forward, a hand on her head, as though suddenly dizzy.

“Yes! Thank god! Yes!”

“What was that?”

“My best bet? You remembered something from your real life.”

“This is my real life,” Chase says forcefully. “My name is Chase Winchester. I am a graduate from Harvard, I volunteer at the library, and you’re my best friend. I’m twenty-eight. I’m going to be your maid of honor. Bobby and Ellen are practically my parents and my two brothers are Sam and Dean. This is real,” Chase says, as though trying to convince herself more than Harley.

“No, it’s not. Travelling across the country in Jack is real. You relentlessly teasing me about the fact that I might like Dean. You totally crushing on Cas, and us saving the world. That’s real.”

“Who’s Cas?”

“An angel and a friend. He gave us pie.”

**“Harley? Chase? Are you two okay?” Cas asks.

Chase nods, whilst Harley can barely breathe enough to answer, just putting a thumbs up. “Yeah, we’re fine. Why do you ask?” Chase asks nonchalantly.

“You were running, screaming, and you’ve got burns on your arm.”

Chase looks down to see that the bleach that had spilled on her earlier had indeed burned her slightly. “Oh this is nothing. Harley got some in her eyes, so I mean. It’s whatever.”

Cas frowns at Chase. He moves one of his hands, both of which were still holding onto Chase’s biceps, and places it over the burns. A second later, they’re gone.

“Oh, thanks. Anyway, you can let go of me now. I’m sure I’m less inclined to fall at the given moment.”

“Oh, right, yes. Of course, I’m sorry,” Cas stutters, stepping back. **

Chase clutches her head with both hands, her vision blurring and refocusing suddenly, leaving a nauseous feeling in her stomach.

“What the hell is going on?!”

“I think you wanted this life so bad you repressed your actual memories and now they’re coming back. But that's just a theory.”

“What?” Chase asks incredulously. “Tell me, if this isn’t real. What is? You?”

“Well, yeah, like I said I african dream rooted myself. Now I’m in your dream world.”

“Convince me then. Go on. Tell me what you know about me.”

“We met when I was twenty and you were twenty-one. We were chasing an orange eyed demon who went by Hank. We started helping each other on hunts. You won Jack, that’s our car, in a poker game a year later and we finally hit the road together and we haven’t looked back since. I also happen to know you have a folder on your computer that’s just pictures of me and Dean sleeping.”

“Wait, you know about that folder?”

“Yes, I know about that folder and it’s all perfectly innocent.”

“How? I hid it behind a folder of lore on poltergeists, which you never read about-” Chase cuts herself off, frowning. “I don’t know where that came from. I don’t have any folders on my computer like that.”

“You do on your real computer.”

“But-but- Keep telling me stuff.”

“We went to visit Sam at Stanford then went to go fight a sphinx. We hunted the demon that killed your mum and dad. You found out I’m half vamp when I got kidnapped by some friendly vampires who were trying to prove a point. We have fought so many monsters together and this one is no different. You gotta believe me.”

Chase, confused and slightly dazed by the rush of images flooding her brain, notices Harley beginning to freak out. “Okay, say I believe you. Then what do I do?”

“Well, um, you have to kill yourself,” Harley says looking away, her voice strained.

Chase blinks. She blinks twice. “Come again?”

“You have to kill yourself.”

“Yeah, let me go take a long walk off a short pier. How am I supposed to kill myself? I haven’t shot a gun since I was twelve! I haven’t held a knife outside the kitchen ever. And I see no rope or high ledges because I'm not crazy!”

“Well, that’s how Dean got out.”

“You got something to help me then?” Chase asks jokingly, only for her eyes to widen as she sees Harley pull a silver knife covered in blood out of her jacket. “Okay, what the fuck?”

“I killed a djinn with it, and stabbed a lamb. So it’s not the cleanest blade ever, but it’ll get the job done.”

“You killed- you stabbed a- of course you did. Hand it over.”

Harley hands the knife over.

“Okay, Harley. I’m going to go through this logically. If you’re messing with me, you wouldn’t give me an actual knife. This is fake or you’ll somehow stop me and it’ll be fine. Or, if I’m dreaming, I’ll wake up because your brain can’t process dying so you wake up when you die in dreams.

“Or, or somehow. In some fucked up way, you’re telling the truth. Tell me. What is it worth to go back?”

“For starters you’ll die if you stay in here. And also none of the people here are real. None of this is real. Cas isn’t here. Trust me you wanna wake up.”

Chase pauses for a moment, fear reflecting in her eyes. Screwing her eyes shut, her face scrunched in concentration, she pulls the knife towards her, a stinging sensation rushing through her abdomen before she feels nothing.

***

Chase opens her eyes to see Harley hovering over her, worry etched onto her features.

“Man, no need to look so worried. When have I ever turned down the offer to kill myself?” Chase jokes. Harley cracks a smile, shaking her head. “I know, I know, that was awful. Can we get going though? If we don’t call Dean in the next half hour, he’ll freak.”

“It’s kinda almost morning.”

“Wait, already? Shit. I’m still so tired,” Chase says, sitting up. She winces. “And sore.”

“It’s fine we’ll just say we had an early night. Let's get to the hotel and you can rest up.” Harley says as she shoots Sam a text.

“Wait, did you really kill a lamb successfully without freaking out?”

“No. Let’s just leave it at that.”

Chase sighs. “Figures. Let’s head back.”

***

Harley dialled Dean as Chase slept recuperating from her djinn ordeal. He picked up on the first ring.

“Before you say anything, sorry, we fell asleep early.”

“Bullshit! Y’all never fall asleep early!” Dean yells. Harley has to hold the phone away from her ear.

“Yeah, well we spent all day hiking, walking, and swimming, so we got a bit exhausted. Sorry. Look I just woke up, Chase is still out. What more do you want from me?”

“I want a lot from you, but right now I want an explanation.”

“You want a lot from me? Like what?”

“I want you screaming my name as I fuck you against the motel table.”

“Dean!” Harley yells. “I told you I don’t mess around like that.”

“I know,” Dean sighs defeated.

***

Chase and Harley sigh heavily, their bags falling off their shoulders as they slump against the wall.

“Remind me again to choose a later time to fly out from wherever we are. I never want to get to an airport that early again,” Chase complains.

Harley nods, grabbing her water bottle. “Where are the boys anyway? Weren’t they supposed to be here?”

“Who knows?” Chase rolls her eyes. “Dean probably got distracted by something. Or maybe they got lost. That’s something they would do.”

“The only place Dean gets lost is in New York,” Harley counters.

“Yeah, but Sam?”

“Yeah, but Dean’s probably driving.”

“Oh, I meant in the airport. God knows, they probably didn’t bother looking at the signs.”

“Probably not,” Harley sighs.

Chase sighs, sliding her back down the wall, settling into a comfortable position. “Tell me when they get here.”

“When,” Harley says as the boys round the corner.

“What?” Chase opens her eyes to see Sam, an annoyed expression gracing his features, and Dean, an uncomfortable one on his. “Of fucking course.”

“Sorry it took so long; we thought we could beeline here, but it’s been a while since we’ve been in an airport,” Sam says, side eyeing Dean.

Dean immediately just hugs Harley, who had opened her arms slightly, indicating she wanted attention. Sam helps Chase off the floor, before grabbing her bags.

Harley and Chase share a knowing look, stifling a laugh that screams, ‘knew it’.

Rolling his eyes, Dean kisses Harley’s forehead, before reaching down and grabbing her luggage.

Walking out of the airport, Dean and Sam pester them with questions about their trip. They, in turn, pester the boys about what they’d been doing in their absence.

“I’m just happy we’re back,” Harley says, getting into the backseat of the Impala.

Chase nods, “Me too.”

1 note · View note

aedelia · 4 years

Text

The Best Gifts

How do you thank someone for not only saving your friends and family’s lives, but your future too? Saying it is a good start, but Danny thinks a gift would be nice too.

Danny was bored. He was beyond bored actually. Two days into Spring Break and he has nothing to do. Sam and her family were off on a trip to somewhere in Europe. Tucker has relatives visiting and can't hang out, and Jazz has practically been living in the library to work on some big senior project that will be due when school gets back. Even his parents were gone, some exclusive paranormal conference in New York, and they wouldn't be back until the weekend.

Danny heaved a heavy sigh. No ghosts had attacked for the last four days and now knowing the value of good time management, he had already managed to finish all of his schoolwork. He listlessly tapped his fingers against the kitchen table where he was seated. Playing Doomed solo was an option, but it's nowhere near as fun by himself, and it feels weird to play video games so early in the day. He got up from his seat and paced for a bit. He could go flying, but he didn't want to tempt the peace or any ghosts hanging about. He stopped and drank a whole glass of water just for something to do. Hydration is important, right? He resumed his pacing for several more minutes, wracking his brain for any ideas that could interest him. He would work on a model rocket, but he had finished the one he got for Christmas over winter break.

He stopped in front of the fridge and glanced at the clock on the wall, it's not too early for lunch. He grabbed a box of saltines out of the cupboard and pulled out a handful. Setting the box back on the counter he eased open the fridge door.

"Hey guys, I have a nice snack for you." he said as he checked for any loose ectoweenies. He couldn't help the sad noise that escaped him when he saw the plate with last night's leftovers had been cleaned bare. At least one weenie must have gotten out of the drawer. He placed a cracker on the plate to lure the escapee from hiding. Small, high-pitched growls greeted him as he slid the duct taped drawer open a couple of inches and sprinkled crushed saltine in the gap.

The ectoweenies were kind of cute when they weren't eating his lunch. Jazz was by far the best cook in the family and he had been looking forward to enjoying the meatloaf again for lunch. His musings were interrupted by tiny crunching sounds. "Aha!" he exclaimed as he snatched the miscreant up off of the plate.

"You've had enough of an adventure, time to go back home," he dropped the weenie through the open gap in the drawer. "Ouch!" he yelped as it managed to bite his thumb on the way down. Danny pouted as he stuck his thumb in his mouth to suck on the bite. The returned weenie was growling its story to the others as he toed the drawer closed before using his free hand to reseal the duct tape.

"For some reason, I'm not that hungry anymore..." Danny muttered as he inspected his thumb. Thank goodness for supernatural healing, what was a bleeding cut a moment ago was already reduced to a light pink line.

Danny resumed his pacing for a moment before sitting back down at the table. He rested his chin on his arms as he watched the seconds tick by on the clock.

‘I have so much time and all I can think of doing is watching the clock tick.’ He mused on the irony of trying to make time and when he finally has some, he can hardly use it.

‘I wonder what Clockwork does when he isn’t pretending to try to kill me. To think that he had planned for us to try to escape to the future to see Dan in order to set me on the path of overcoming that future.’ He frowned, ‘Even then I didn’t actually make it in time to save anyone. It was really nice of Clockwork to not only save them, but to set me further back afterwards so that I could keep my secret and do some damage control. I didn’t even get a chance to thank him for his help.’ He rose to his feet and started pacing once more. “I really should thank him. I think I remember where his lair is. It might take an hour or two of flying if nothing interferes… Should I just show up? That seems kind’ve rude. Maybe I should get him a gift? Thanks for saving my family and friends, and you know, not killing me when you could have. Yeah I should definitely bring a gift, that would be the polite thing when just showing up at someone’s home.” His pacing slowed as his thoughts deepened.

“But what gift do you give the ghost who can control time? And also saved you and your family from terrible fates... He said time is like a parade that he watches from above but it was more like he was helping to direct the parade than just watching.” Danny grinned in delight as inspiration struck, “I know the perfect thing!” he said as he dashed out the door at a quarter to eleven, patting his pocket to check for his wallet as he went.

-----

A quick scooter ride later and he was at the outlet stores by the mall. He looked fondly at the video game store before parking his scooter and walking into the music store. He browsed around the aisles, poking at one or two of the display instruments. ‘I remember when we came here so Jazz could pick an instrument in Middle School; I don’t think she’s played since then.’

When the lady at the desk finished with her short line of customers (mostly band kids buying reeds or random accessories), Danny popped out from the shelves to ask her, “Hey, do you guys have the kind of baton that bands use in parades? I’m looking for a gift for a conductor I know.”

She pursed her lips in thought before sliding her chair over to her computer next to the register. “Hang on; let me see if we have anything like that in stock.” Danny tried to keep from fidgeting as she spent a couple of minutes typing and clicking away at the computer. He was trying to decide whether or not to scratch his nose when she turned back to him.

“So we don’t have anything like that in the store right now. You could special order one if you’d like but that would take a while and unless you wanted a gag gift, would be pretty expensive…” At his crestfallen expression she continued, “However, if you would like to get your conductor friend a conducting baton, a good quality one runes about $20-30 and we have a nice selection I can show you.”

Danny’s face lit up, “It’s not my first idea, but that would be just as good!” The store clerk smiled at him and standing from her computer chair, she led him to one of the display cases by the register.

“These are arranged by price and material. This side is the lower end and is mostly fiberglass and cheaper wood or rubber,” she said, gesturing to Danny’s left, “and these are the nicer, more durable ones to your right. My favorite is the rosewood style right there.” She pointed to a medium priced baton with a nice reddish wooden bulb.

“Tell you what, since this is for a gift, if you get one of the wooden ones I’ll engrave a name for you for free.”

Danny grinned at her, “That rosewood one you pointed out would be great! For the name, could you put it as Clockwork?”

She smiled back at him and chuckled a little, “As in, when they’re conducting everything runs like clockwork?”

“Yeah kinda like that, it’s a nickname, so could you capitalize the C?”

“Of course, that’ll be $25.96 after tax.”

Danny paid her and watched as she pulled a slim case from below the counter. She popped the end cap off and pulled out the new baton.

“Looks to be in perfect shape, give me a minute and I’ll have the name engraved for you.” She picked up a small tool slightly thicker and longer than a pen and flipped a switch on the side. A low buzzing filled Danny’s ears as she carefully engraved the name on the shaft in neat handwriting. The tip of her tongue was sticking out of her mouth as she concentrated. She flipped the tool off and stowed it out of sight before blowing on the engraving to help cool it and to remove any dust. She waved it a couple of times before neatly sliding it back into the case and handing it to him.

“There you go, one personalized baton for your friend!” she chirped.

“Thank you so much, I’m sure he’ll like it!” Danny effused before heading out the door with a wave to the friendly salesperson. He retrieved his scooter and helmet and headed back to Fentonworks. The whole trip only took about half an hour.

-----

Once back at home, Danny stowed his scooter and made a quick stop back in the kitchen. He slapped together a peanut butter sandwich so he wouldn’t have to deal with the ectoweenies again. He scarfed it and washed it down with another glass of water.

“Ok!” he said, talking aloud to help psyche himself up. “I should leave a note for Jazz somewhere in case I’m out when she gets home, and then I need to store the gift in my ghost space pocket so I don’t lose it on the trip. I think that’s everything,” he said with his arms crossed and tapping his fingers against his elbow. He nodded and then reached for the notepad next to the fridge to write out a quick note for his sister.

‘Hey Jazz, I’m going for a visit to see Clockwork, he’s the guy who helped me out during the CAT stuff. Nothing is wrong. I’m going to thank him and probably visit for a bit. Don’t know how long it’ll take but don’t worry if I’m not home yet.’

“She’ll probably still worry and tell me that it’s her job as my big sister, but at least she’ll know I wasn’t kidnapped or something. This should keep her from looking for me too. She’s not going to go searching for me in the ghost zone unless I’m gone a really long time.”

He put the note in the middle of the table then grabbed the gift and lightly skipped down the stairs to the lab. A quick flash of light and Danny tucked the slim case into the special space pocket where he normally keeps his thermos and cell phone. Discovering that ability had made his ghost fighting a lot simpler, no more racing to his locker to grab a thermos or trying to discreetly pull it from his bag when he says he’s going to the bathroom. He still keeps a spare in his locker and under his bed. Sam and Tucker both keep a few too. It never hurts to be prepared, especially when it comes to ghost fighting.

He pulled off his glove and unlocked the portal. It was kind’ve funny that his DNA was still recognizable to the Fenton scanner in ghost form. After pulling his glove back on, he slipped through the portal and was on his way.

-----

Danny hummed cheerfully as he flew through the green and purple mists of the ghost zone. He had been so bored, but he found the perfect thing to do! Even better, since his parents weren’t home, he won’t have to worry about being locked in the zone.

He did a loop and waved at some cute blob ghosts before significantly increasing his speed. ‘I might be able to shave off some of my travel time if I fly near top speed, it’ll be good exercise too.’

Danny continued to increase his flight speed until his surroundings blurred and he weaved among the floating islands, rocks, and other debris with minute adjustments to his path. Amazingly enough, he didn’t encounter any ghosts itching for a fight. ‘Maybe it’s because I’m in the Zone, most ghosts that come through the portal have some sort of goal. Most in the Ghost Zone just want to be left alone. It could also be partly the speed I’ve been going, harder for anyone to try to fight me if I’m already gone by time they notice me.’

He slowed his pace down as the floating gears that fill the space near Clockwork’s lair began to appear. ‘I wonder where all these gears come from. He does have a lot of clocks. Maybe he used to have more? I can always ask him later if the visit goes well.’ Danny gently touched down in front of the large door to the lair. He took a deep breath, thinking, ‘I hope he doesn’t mind a visit. Of course he probably already knows I’m coming here, but still.’ and then firmly clanged the doorknocker.

A few seconds passed and then Clockwork opened the door with a slight smile, “Daniel. Please come in.,” he said while beckoning with his free arm.

“I hope it’s ok that I just showed up.” Danny said as he stepped into Clockwork’s lair for the second time.

“It’s perfectly alright. You are welcome here Daniel, I can always make time for you.” Clockwork replied as he closed the door behind them.

‘Did he just make a pun?’ Danny wondered, pausing in his surprise before following Clockwork into a lounge area that he hadn’t seen on his initial visit. ‘Not that I really had much time to look around with everything going on and Clockwork manipulating us for a better future. On the subject of that diverted timeline, I shouldn’t forget what brought me here in the first place.’

Clockwork, currently in adult form, had stopped and was now floating by a flat gear suspended at coffee table height.

“Clockwork,” Danny said, “I really want to thank you for your help with that horrible future. I really appreciate that not only did you save my friends and family; you also gave me a second chance to fix my relationship with Mr. Lancer about the cheating thing. He let me retake the test and actually let me study for it during detentions. He even answered questions that I had about the material!” Danny paused to take a breath, “To show my gratitude for your help and to say thank you for giving me a chance, I got this for you.” He rotated his arm slightly to reach into his sub-pocket and pulled out the slim case holding the engraved baton.

As he handed it to Clockwork he said, “It’s not much but I was thinking about how you said you see time like a parade that you’re watching from above, it felt more like you were directing the parade a bit and I’m really glad you kept it from marching off a cliff…” Danny trailed off, halting his ramblings as Clockwork opened the case and gently withdrew the baton. He phased to his older form as he lightly ran his gloved fingers over the engraving of his name.

“It is a lovely gift, thank you Daniel. It is very thoughtful and especially fitting in your case. I will cherish it.,” he said as he slid it into an invisible pocket up his sleeve. “I am glad that you decided to come by. Due to my actions on your behalf, I have been given charge and responsibility for you. Think of me as your ghostly guardian, or mentor. You should feel free to visit me anytime, whether you have questions, are looking for advice, or just want to spend time in a safe place. Cookie?” he offered as he switched to his child form.

Danny was sure his jaw was hanging loose as Clockwork finished informing him of their new potential relationship. Given that he was currently in ghost form, that could be a lot more literal than normal. He was still trying to process this bombshell when his whole train of thought derailed at the sight of the cookie that Clockwork was holding out to him.

“That cookie is green. And glowing.” he said as he cautiously reached out for it.

“Of course it is, “Clockwork replied, “The flour was soaked in raw ectoplasm before it was baked.”

Danny looked slightly repulsed but curious as he examined the cookie now in his hand, “Is it safe for me to eat?” he asked.

“Yes it is, and actually, on the subject of nutrition,” Clockwork said, phasing back to his adult form once again, “You need to increase your ectoplasm intake if you want to remain healthy while using your powers. The easiest ways for you to do this would be to accept it into your diet, such as with these cookies,” he gestured towards the still uneaten cookie in Danny’s hand, “or you can absorb ambient energy from spending time in the Ghost Zone.”

“Wow, you’re being a lot more straight forward now than when you helped save the future.” Danny remarked.

“When I helped you, my hands were tied by my employers; they wanted me to eliminate you instead of solving the root of the problem. Now that I have responsibility for both you and the alternate phantom, I am able to directly advise you when you have a problem as opposed to the convoluted run around that was necessary to keep the Observants from interfering further.” He shifted to his elder form and concluded with, “Maybe they wouldn’t be so shortsighted if they had two eyes instead of just one.”

Danny smiled slightly at the dig at the pretentious eyeballs. He had encountered them a few times while exploring the zone but hadn’t known what their jobs were at the time. “I know I promised that I’ll never turn into Dan, and I’m planning on always keeping my promise! But, is there anything that I need to watch out for to keep everything on track?”

“Do not worry. The actions that you have taken and the choices that you have made have decisively prevented you from ever becoming Dan. You have committed yourself to doing what is right, and remember, Dan was not just you, he was a combination of Phantom and Plasmius. You have nothing to worry about as long as you keep going as you have been. Eat your cookie.”

Danny nibbled at his cookie and was surprised that it tasted really good to him. It was a sugar cookie with a lemon-lime aftertaste that somehow worked really well. As he finished the cookie, he realized that it satisfied a craving that he hadn’t realized he had. Like finally scratching an itch. Danny ate another ecto-cookie from the plate on the table as Clockwork looked on in his child form.

“So I can visit tomorrow too?” Danny asked.

“Of course you may Daniel, you are welcome here any,” he paused and smirked slightly, “…time.” he finished, shifting to adult form.

Danny grinned at him, Clockwork liked puns too! He floated over to the older ghost and tentatively reached for a hug. Clockwork did not hesitate in holding him tight and completing the embrace.

“You are a good and precious child; I already am anticipating your next visit. Unfortunately, you will need to be leaving soon if you do not want your sister to form a search party. She has finished early at the library and will be heading for home shortly.”

Danny hid his smile against Clockwork’s chest as he felt his hair being ruffled. The ticking of the clock under his cheek was comforting.

“Thank you again for saving my whole world. And thanks for the advice and the open invitation. I’ll definitely be visiting more this week.”

Clockwork gave Danny’s head a final pat before separating, “As long as you fly the same speed or faster going home as you did coming here, you will avoid any encounters and will make it home with plenty of time to reassure your sister and to tell her about your day.” Clockwork shifted to his elder form and with his characteristic smirk, stated, “Later Gator.”

Danny beamed with delight as they floated to the door.

“After a little while, Crocodile.”

“We’re far too gharialous for a traditional parting.”

It took Danny a moment to work gharial and garrulous apart before he could shoot back, “Caiman, these puns are getting old.”

Clockwork replied by waggling his eyebrows and shifting to his child form, “Actually, you will find that they are getting younger.”

Danny laughed and waved to his new mentor as he floated out into the ghost zone proper, “I’ll see you tomorrow, bye!” he shouted as he turned and sped off towards home.

Clockwork shut the door once Danny was out of sight and moved to his time viewing room where Danny flying home showed on the main screen. Some of the smaller screens floating off to the side showed him dropping the ecto-weenie back into the drawer in the refrigerator and eating dinner with his sister.

“There are some advantages to being the master of time, and taking care of such a wonderful and delightful child is definitely one of them. The puns are a bonus too.” he mused with a slight lisp and fingering the baton that he’d been gifted. He watched Danny talking to himself during his flight home.

“…and I should ask him where those gears around his lair come from tomorrow. Oh! And if the ectoplasmic contamination in Mom’s cooking is actually a good thing for me. I need to learn about more types of animals and things so I don’t run out of puns!” He was flying home with a huge smile.

-----

True to Clockwork’s words, Danny once again didn’t have any unfriendly encounters while he travelled. He had even managed to shave a couple more minutes off of his flight time! He slowed down as he approached the Fenton Portal and slipped through at normal speed. When he popped through he startled his sister where she was fiddling with some ghost hunting gadgets. “Danny!” she yelled, dropping a Fenton Thermos and some miscellaneous inventions that didn’t actually do anything. She threw her arms around him as he transformed back to human form. “I read your note but I was starting to get worried! I finished early at the library so that I could get dinner started.”

Danny gave her a quick hug back before responding, “I’m fine. Actually, I’m way better than fine! I’ll tell you all about it upstairs, do you think you could make meatloaf again? An ectoweenie ate all of the leftovers.”

His sister ruffled his wind-swept hair before tugging him towards the stairs. “Of course, little brother, I’m so glad that you had a good day and weren’t just playing video games or bored the whole time.” They headed upstairs together and Danny started off his story, “So I was really bored this morning. Incredibly bored. Then I got the perfect idea…”

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years

Text

The Bad Guy

Bucky x fem!Reader

Theme: It's a good day in New York City for Bucky Barnes, who seems to feel right at home till his morning is disrupted by a bad guy. Maybe New York isn't the same place after all.

Series: I don’t know if this is a series.

Chapter warnings: swearing. so much swearing.

A/N: @writing-prompt-s once gave a prompt last year that stuck with me...I don’t remember the exact wordings but it had something to do with the reader/writer being the villain having a crush on the hero, always finding excuses (or crimes) to meet them. One day they are getting their ass beat and you decide to jump in and save the day. This one is same but with a liiiiiiiitle twist

Word Count: I cannot believe there are days when I wish I can poop at will, like my brother, and not just sit there constipated. Today has been one of those days.

MASTERLIST in bio, love. Tags are open

“Get the fuck outta my face, you asshole!”

The anger rushed through the burning veins to press on the car horn for as long as that bald guy could; or till other vehicles standing there impatiently started cussing at the boomer to hold it together. To add fuel to the fire, a flock of pigeons made sure it got to do its business right in the middle of newly washed windshields. A woman stood by the crossing, watching everything unfold through her bloodshot eyes as she smoked the scene away in broad daylight while a stray dog peed at the lamp post she supported herself on. A man walked by, catcalling the same woman with the kind of smile you do not want to witness; but when you do, it is difficult to remove from your brain. “Slut,” the man spewed when he did not get anything for his manly advances. “Boo-hoo,” uttered the woman with pure disinterest, going back to looking at the woman standing across the road, trying to balance her grocery bags in her arms while deciding the right moment to cross the road.

Ah, yes. It was just another day in New York City.

It did not feel normal till the exhaust fumes filled up your lungs when you stepped out into this articulate maze of a city to go about your day, just like anyone else. That rusty smell of iron and concrete along with a splash of dust in the alleys, the stench of piss in those missed corners in the back alleys and parks, the howls and so-called greetings by the men at every woman passing by that caught their eye.

Some things never change. That’s what Bucky lamented this morning, feeling himself caught off guard for a split second as two women walked by with a knowing smile just for his blue eyes. Never indeed.

So, he still had it, didn’t he? Feeling like the same Brooklyn boy before the war, catching secretive gazes and moans of all eyes alike, greeting the elderly, petting a dog and stroking a cat as he felt a skip in his step. It was so good to be outside.

Two weeks. Two weeks since he had come back from Wakanda, deciding to join Steve, Sam and Stark in whatever little shenanigans they had running at the compound in the city outskirts; saving the world and all that. It had been a good start since the whole Hydra and Snap events. He had settled pretty well with the rest of the Avengers. Turned out it isn’t that hard to live with people who are just the same amount of weird as him. But the relief came from the fact that he wasn’t the only ex-assassin in the house. That redhead was super rad. I should maybe ask her out if she and Steve aren’t a thing already…though I doubt that.

But just because he had come home did not mean he forgot about the previous one. He would still get occasional memes in his inbox from Shuri and he would try to use them- what he thought- the right way, peppering them into conversations as much as possible.

I wish Shuri was here, Bucky sighed as he looked at the Times Square announcement for the Young Leaders Summit happening this weekend, smiling to himself in gratitude for that young scientist making him well enough to enjoy the bustling crowds again.

The walk through this massive city was no joke. But the Winter Soldier took his sweet time to watch the life of the loudest and the quietest corners before he decided where he wanted to get his coffee from.

Just by the corner of the University was a little shop with the cosiest ambience- everything furnished in wood, old advertisements for wall decorations and some good old jazz music playing on the vinyl satiated his soul just the right amount.

“Coffee and uh…eggs and bacon, please,” he requested with a slight smile as he settled on the stool, trying to ignore the snickers and giggles coming from the booth behind him.

“Oh my gosh, he’s so hot,” his sensitive ears caught, forcing him to clear his throat and grab the newspaper kept on the counter.

“So fuckable,” another whisper came. Okay, some things have changed, he shuddered, gladly turning his attention to the police sirens in the distance instead of having to hear what a couple of strangers had to say about him.

“I wonder if he goes dow-“

A crash and a peal of horrendous feminine laughter drowned out everything else, breaking open the can of fight or flight instincts- neither of them containing the ‘go back home, its none of your business’ choice.

Stepping out, Bucky was greeted with one end of the street bustling with cars and people getting out of them to witness a woman stand over one with a bag swinging in the air as if to mock whoever who was standing opposite her. Bucky could not get a clear view thanks to the tree line in his view.

“I said put that down,” a commanding voice said out loud. Wait a second…

“Good Lord! Would you relax!” the woman called out, her back still to Bucky. By the casual pose, he could tell she was not scared of whoever was standing in front of her. “It’s just a smoke grenade in one hand the most expensive painting in New York in another. Also, the shittiest,” she shrugged before taking the piece out of the bag and forcing a gasp out of everyone, “I mean, who decided to pay a hundred mil for this stupid looking square drawn over a circle?”

Bucky moved along the tree line, right where her blind spot was, reading the scene to realise she was some idiot out to cause chaos in the streets. I guess the police have it cover-are you kidding me?!

“As much as I would love to agree with you,” a very tired Steve announced, his shield resting on his arm, “I’d rather make sure Tony gets this back in one piece.”

“Well, he can pay my student loans and I’ll draw him a better one,” you negotiated, almost making Steve laugh.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “that’s a good one. Now come on. I don’t want you to get hurt. Give that ba-“

“Why not?” You tilted your head at him, making the Captain pause. Bucky stood behind an SUV, furrowing his brows at Steve and the woman.

“Wh-“ Steve was left with his lips in a confused pout, not really understanding the question while the summer sun made that soft blonde glow like a truly lost boy in the jungle.

“Why wouldn’t you want to hurt me?”

Bucky could swear by that colour of hurting emotion in her voice that she was looking at Steve as if he had betrayed her. Holy cow, she’s good. But then again, it’s Stevie.

“I..uh-“

“It’s okay. You have my consent. We should keep a safe word though.”

“O…kay I think that’s-“

“How about…Shield?”

Bucky nearly gave up his position with the involuntary snicker that left the back of his throat. Nonetheless, he had a perfect view of watching his best friend choke on embarrassment till he was red.

“’ Cause, you know, it’s safer to use protection.”

Steve was lucky. Really lucky the first time for having the street evacuated so as not to face the public embarrassment of being broken by a woman in a leather jacket and black jeans. That’s it. No weapons. He turned lucky the second time when an explosion in the art gallery behind him turned all the attention away from this weird one standing on top of a car and flirting with Captain America.

But Bucky was not going to let Steve forget this. Ever.

“Nat, what was that?” He called into his comms.

“Aw! Come on! I was just starting to get to know you!” She groaned. “Okay, I won’t burn this trash and we go on a date. What say?”

“We’re done here,” Steve declared before turning towards the three policemen standing behind him for aid, looking at him for further instructions, “cuff her up.”

Bucky moved next to the police car, taking the spare windbreaker resting on the front seat to walk towards the woman without giving away his identity. Not that there was much to give there.

“SO IS THAT A YES ON THE DATE?” she shouted in Steve’s direction while the cops cuffed her up. One of the policemen was quick to figure out the man doing the murder walk in their direction was not a part of the team.

“Hey, excuse me. What do you think you’re doing?“

Bucky tried to raise his hands to signal him to keep it quiet but something else was already catching his attention. That something being Steve body hurled out of the glass building like a rag doll.

It was a split-second reaction of him catching the arms of the cuffed-up woman. “Hey! You’re not going-“he broke as the face turned towards him, that weight in his voice slowly dissolving in those angry eyes- “anywhere.”

You had your share of bad luck. Who didn’t? It was New York fucking City. The whole place was a mess. So, it was a given that today was going to be just like any other day. Because who gets to rob an art studio and have their crush come and personally arrest them only to be called off by some other douchebag robbing the same place.

Now, it would have been great had things just halted there. But as fate would have it, embarrassment hit right when you got cuffed, watching the man of your fantasies being thrown out of glass and landing on the pavement with a groan.

No one hurts him but me, you growled, already trying to make your way towards Steve before a pair of hands wrapped themselves around your arms to stop and turn your around. “Hey! You’re not going-“

Oh, now what! You turned around to lock eyes with deep ocean eyes turning fifty shades lighter. “-anywhere.”

You did not know where that jawline came from but if he hadn’t been so beautiful you swore you would have punched the lights out of him right there and then.

Who is he, a part of you was purring.

Gunfire sounded behind you, making you break out this ten-second bliss to turn back to Steve hiding behind his shield from…was that a sniper you just saw on the roof?

Trying to walk towards Steve again, you were once again stopped by that blue-eyed guy.

“Let me go,” you declared, “he’s in trouble.”

Bucky scoffed. “That’s Captain America, doll. I think he can handle himself.”

You scrunched your nose at him, making him wonder it was Steve he was talking about. “Doll? What century are you from?”

Bucky stopped short of saying something. Let’s just not go there, darlin’.

“Let me go, he clearly needs help.”

“From a thief?”

“She tried to threaten a crowd yesterday,” one of the officers spoke, earning a death glare from you.

“And I am threatening to kill you right now if you don’t let me go,” you announced ever so softly to the officer, who walked backwards with every step you took in his direction, his hand resting on his gun, ready to take it out as soon as you were to become a legit threat.

“Lady, I am telling you to calm down,” he declared, his friends backing him up.

“Okay, no need to get-“

Bucky’s words were drowned by another explosion and before anyone could make sense of the situation, you were already breaking out of the handcuffs with one good yank, running straight towards the explosion, jumping over the cars to land on the concrete grounds of the studio.

“Uh…this is on the new guy,” the officer stressed, pointing at Bucky. Bucky looked at him with judgmental eyes before running behind you, trying to catch up as you disappeared behind the smoke, landing on the ground from the cars just in time to miss a screaming man that came flying in his direction; or rather, he missed a man that was thrown in his direction.

“What in the-“ Bucky walked into the smoke cautiously to hear the impact of fists made with ribs and bodies being thrown into walls and grunts coming from something wild trying to fight those men in tactical vests.

The chopper above cleared the smoke in time- thanks Natasha- for the Winter Soldier to witness you blocking an attack on Steve before crushing the attacker’s wrist and knocking him unconscious with your elbow right in his face.

“You okay, Cap?”

“They’re not with you?”

“Wha-Who? These Chads and Hunters? Not even if I was being paid for it, no.”

Steve apologised for the quick judgment, looking around at the men lying on the ground groaning in pain. “You know you’ll still be arrested for the theft,” Steve stated with heavy breaths, trying to wipe off the blood from his lips.

“Eh,” you shrugged, looking in Bucky’s direction, “I’ll live.”

For a second Bucky lost all sense of direction as you walked towards him, your eyes stuck on his. And was that blood on your cheek? Were you really hurt? How does someone look just as…pretty when half their face has been smashed? Everything ran in his mind like a freight train- which came to a deafening halt right what you stopped in front of him, drawing your hands up, palms out.

“Okay, now you can cuff me.”

Steve was a bit confused by the interaction while he stood outside this bizarre bubble between his best friend and this crazy woman who apparently had the hots for him. What was more surprising was watching Bucky lose all that made him ‘Bucky’ and stand there like a mute fool while you waited for him to do something with your hands.

“Oi!” you tried to snap the man out of whatever daydream you thought he was running through, “we going or what?”

Bucky never turned his gaze away from your y/e/c eyes as he tried to find the zip ties that he had on him, taking them out and securing your wrists in them, not bothering with the judgy brow Steve was throwing at him right this moment. He could deal with that later.

“Oooh,” you cooed at Bucky as he turned you by your arm towards the police cars waiting for you, “looks like someone is always ready for some action. I like that.”

Bucky was about to open his mouth to say something cocky back when he felt you push him back to grab the knife and the hand holding it, twist and break it before kicking the tactical vest guy in his knees. “Stay down, punk,” you commanded. And at that very moment, one more person in the universe started believing in something called ‘the one’.

“Why did you steal the painting?”

“Sweety, can we do this at the station. I’m tired and I could really use a quiet ride.”

Bucky licked his lips as he walked you back, not really content with the answer. You knew it too. It was hard to miss when Bucky’s hands on your arm changed the intensity of the hold. Not to mention the walk back was getting awkward the more distance was covered towards those pea-brained cops.

“…that painting could sell for millions online, ruin the name of this shady studio and win me a date with Cap.”

Stopping right next to the car, you turned and smirked at him, making Bucky wonder about this strange feeling in his stomach. “That’s all you get, pretty boy.” With those last words, you got inside the car, the cops driving you away as Bucky stood there alone for a few moments, replaying all of them back and questioning what exactly he had done today to have led him to this.

Just as the car disappeared from the view, Steve came to stand next to him, looking in the same direction.

“So, zip ties, huh.”

“So, a pretty stalker, huh.”

“She’s the bad guy, Buck.”

Bucky was still looking far out with this little last hope of you coming back. “…really?”

“First she impersonates an ambassador’s daughter to get access to the military secrets of three countries, then she crashes two military drones, and when that wasn’t enough thrill for her she comes after me!”

Pepper closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “It was a painting, Tony.”

“Well, today it was!” He stated matter-of-factly. “Tomorrow she’s going to try and steal one of my cars. Or maybe even Steve.”

Steve- who had an icepack pressed to his swollen cheek- rolled his eyes.

“Oh, definitely Steve,” Natasha agreed before passing a smirk at an irritated Rogers.

“It’s not funny,” Steve muttered.

“She said something about the Studio being shady.”

All eyes turned on Bucky. The unwelcome chill down his spine told him he was being questioned quietly till he could come up with something more.

“Tony, you said this painting was shipped yesterday.”

Tony nodded. “It was supposed to be delivered here today.” He turned and looked at the canvas covered in brown paper standing in the corner, waiting to be attended to.

“Could she have been after the studio?”

“Wow, he’s really not stopping today, is he?” Tony uttered to Steve.

“I’m standing right here.”

“Why would she go after the studio?” Pepper questioned. “What are they, some drug dealers or traffickers?”

Everyone stared at each other in silence for a second before Tony called Friday to run diagnostics on the painting and give him everything.

Within five seconds, the results were up.

“There’re traces of unsanctioned medical drugs along the outer frame. I have also found a microdrive that contains in total seventy-five identities. On running a deeper search through the internet, I have found these seventy-five identities belong to the girls that have been missing for the past one year from the middle eastern countries. All these girls have a codename next to them. Would you like me to run a further search on this, sir?”

Silence.

“Yeah, you do that.”

Tony watched in contemplative silence as Bucky crossed his arms across his chest, waiting for the call.

“How do we know she’s not with the bad guys who have these girls?”

“We can always send Steve in to question her,” Pepper suggested.

“You too Pepper?” Steve felt betrayed by the one person in the room he thought was not going to get in on this. “And I don’t think I’ll be of much help. She never talks sense around me.”

Natasha chuckled, pouring herself some whiskey from Tony’s bar. “That’s true.”

“And Nat’s not going to talk to her because the last time they were in the same room she tried to kill her dog.”

“You had a dog?” Tony gasped. “When?”

“I just pushed him away a little hard from the fighting…with my leg. And it was Y/N’s dog,” Natasha stressed.

Y/N. Bucky ran that name inside his head again and again till it settled like a layer of his own skin on him.

“That’s called a kick,” Steve chimed in blankly.

“That’s definitely a kick,” Tony added, narrowing his eyes at the Black Widow, earning an eye roll.

“I can talk to her,” Bucky volunteered, “she doesn’t know I’m with you guys. She thinks I’m a civilian. I could get in her good books and find out what she knows.”

A brief moment was taken to put some thought into it. “I like that idea,” Natasha finally spoke. “If she’s the bad guy then we can put a stop to whatever she’s up to.”

“If she’s not…” Bucky began.

“Then Cap can finally go out with her without having to think of the greater good,” she concluded with a smug grin.

So, it was settled. Bucky was going undercover to find out the truth. Quite possibly the easiest mission of his life. But if it was this easy, then why was his heart bubbling with this strange sensation? Maybe because it was his first mission after so long. Maybe it was something he was yet to discover.

___

So...what do you think?

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