#bucky is a grump but he's our grump
Hi Jo, can you write an enemies to lovers trope with bucky x reader where they have to work undercover as a married couple? Like some fluffy-smutty thing.♡
I know you wrote the same trope long time ago, but I'm such a wh*re for this trope and you're one of my favourite writers out here.
The Perfect Match
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Word Count: 2,947
Summary: You and Bucky have been undercover as a married couple for months and he's grumpy and you're maybe slightly annoying but you make it work for the mission but what happens when the truth finally comes out...
Author's Note: Hi lovely!!! Thank you so much for this request! Enemies to lovers is such a fun trope! I went a bit overboard with this one and the end went in a specific direction because I got a request for the reader professing their love for Bucky at his bed side after an injury. Also, my friend @hiddles-and-skittles sent me a super cute ask about this amazing coffee mug and I even threw that in! I tied it all together-hopefully well enough haha I hope you enjoy and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ Jobean divider by the lovely @imerdwarf and line dividers by the lovely @skylightlantern
Warnings: Grumpy Bucky, teasing, banter, flirting, sexual tension, cursing, light dirty talk, smut (fingering), violence (I don't go into detail much), mentions of blood, soft fluffy love...IT'S A ROLLERCOASTER RIDE! (That you must be 18+ or older to ride, thanks!)
Gif not mine: Credit goes to @buckysbarnes thank you so much 🥰
The warm morning sunshine wakes you from sleep and you stretch out on the bed before throwing your feet over the edge and grabbing your robe. You can already smell the uplifting aroma of coffee and you start to move faster, already looking forward to enjoying a cup.
When you walk into the kitchen you spot Bucky at the counter, his gaze focused on his phone and his coffee cup in hand.
“Morning Buck,” you chime. “Is there enough for me?”
He doesn’t look your way and instead turns his coffee cup around, the large block letters spelling out “NO,” now facing you.
“Ugh Barnes. You are such a fucking grump, especially in the morning,” you huff. “Are you for real? No more coffee?”
He doesn’t answer so you stomp over to the machine and see that there is in fact more. You grab a mug and fill it, throwing him a dirty look before you open the front door and go out to sit on the porch swing.
You’re almost done with your coffee when Bucky comes out, sitting down next to you and pushing off the porch with his foot to move the swing. He elbows you lightly, smiling and turning his empty mug around to show you the large letters that spell, “YES,” on the other side.
“Oh, so now we can talk?” you ask, elbowing him back but much harder.
“We need to talk about our plan for the party tonight,” he states, dramatically rubbing his arm where you hit him.
Bucky sighs, making his exasperation known.
“You’re such a pain in my ass,” he groans. “And it has nothing to do with coffee. You’ve already finished yours.”
“Thanks Captain Obvious,” you snip, “but since this has nothing to do with our plan for tonight let’s get our talk over with.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and hangs his head.
“We’ve been able to convince everyone that we like each other so far so as long as we keep that up it should be fine and once you get the information you need we can make some excuse to leave,” he says.
“Works for me,” you reply. “What time do I have to be ready?”
“Party starts at 7pm,” Bucky tells you.
You nod and start to shift, ready to go back inside.
“Wait,” Bucky says, stopping you with a soft hand to your knee. “Neighbors.”
You follow his line of sight and see your neighbors from across the street come out to tend to their garden. They both wave and you wave back, leaning into Bucky when he throws his arm around your shoulder.
He kisses the top of your head and dances his fingers up and down your arm as you snuggle on the porch swing.
“How come we don’t have a garden?” you ask, smirking when he looks at you questioningly.
“I didn’t know you wanted one,” he says. “We can plant some stuff if you like.”
“Maybe if we do that everyone will stop asking us when we’re having a baby,” you laugh.
Bucky throws his head back with laughter and you look over at him, noting the way his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches up. He looks carefree and happy and you can’t deny how it makes you feel but rather than say something sweet you get up from the swing.
You lean down and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to grab a bite to eat.”
The rest of the day goes by without incident and as the time for the party nears you start to get ready, taking a bath before you shower and then trying to decide what to wear. You search the small selection of clothing you’ve brought and realize you don’t know the details of the party.
Rolling your eyes, you walk out of the room and look for Bucky. You knock on the door of his room but he doesn’t answer so you slowly open it and call his name.
Still nothing so you step in and just as you turn your head he walks out of the bathroom in nothing but his towel.
“Did you call me?” he asks, his eyes wandering down your body just as yours do the same to his.
“I uh, yeah,” you mumble. “I don’t know how to dress for this party.”
You look down and realize that you’re only wearing a tee shirt and your underwear.
“Too bad you can’t wear that,” Bucky simpers, eyeing you appreciatively.
You scoff, ignoring the way your skin heats under his gaze.
“Well?” you snap, placing your hands at your hips. “Do I need a dress or what?”
“I think you need more coffee,” he sneers. “Or better yet an attitude check.”
“That doesn’t answer my question Barnes.”
“You should definitely wear a dress,” he says then walks back into the bathroom.
“Ugh! You are insufferable” you puff, mumbling to yourself the whole way back to your room.
Once you finish doing your hair, you add light make up and you take your dress, stepping into it and trying to zip up the back. After several attempts to awkwardly reach the zipper you have no success and surrender to the fact that you’re going to have to ask Bucky for help.
You’re already annoyed so when you find him in the living room, huffing and puffing and throwing couch cushions onto the floor you poke him hard in the side to get his attention.
“What are you doing? You’re making a mess!” you shout.
He grabs your finger, pulling you closer to him with a hiss. “Stop poking me!”
“Stop messing up the couch!”
“I can’t find my favorite knife,” he retorts, releasing your finger and continuing to shuffle through the cushions.
You watch him, not bothering to help and tapping your foot on the ground with impatience. He stops searching and stares at you, his eyebrows drawing together the longer the stand off lasts.
“Why the hell do you keep a knife in the couch cushions?” you ask.
“Just in case!” he answers, getting more agitated.
“Just in case what?” you ask, throwing up your hands.
“Just in case I need to protect you,” he yells.
His admission silences you and you watch as he rubs a hand over his face.
“Why did you come in here? Did you need something?” he questions.
“I need you to zip my dress.”
“Please,” he deadpans.
“What?” you counter, stepping closer to him.
“I need you to zip my dress,” he repeats, adding, “please.”
You cross your arms over your chest and lift your chin in defiance.
“Can you zip my dress, please?” you mock.
The words come out pained and it makes him laugh. He gently takes you by the shoulders and turns you around, closing his fingers around the small zipper and slowly pulling it up. His knuckles brush your skin and you can’t stop the way you shiver at his touch.
He closes the clasp and you turn to face him, whispering, “thanks.”
“What was that?” he asks, leaning toward you.
“THANK YOU!” you shout in his face and stamp off.
“We have to leave in five minutes,” he yells after your retreating form.
After checking yourself in the mirror you put on your shoes and head for the door. Bucky is waiting there and before you walk in you get a long look at him. He looks good. Too good and you want to punch him in the face.
The click of your heels makes him spin around in place, his eyes assessing you once more.
“There you are,” he says, letting his eyes linger before opening the door.
The party is already in full swing when you arrive and Bucky keeps you close, his hand never far from your skin. You lean into his touch, smoothing your hand down his chest or leaning your head against his shoulder. You look like the perfect, happy couple.
“How about a drink?” Bucky asks, pulling you toward the bar.
You keep hold of his hand, letting him order your drink while you scan the room.
“You look beautiful,” he whispers in your ear, his lips brushing the shell and the sensation startles you.
Your head snaps in his direction and you realize how close his face is. Your tongue darts out to trace over your lips before you say, “thank you,” and chug half the drink he hands you.
“I’m sorry I was a dick today,” he continues. “I’m just frustrated.”
You raise your brows in surprise, your eyes wandering over his face as you wait for him to elaborate.
“It’s just…I mean,” he starts, clearly getting flustered. “What the hell is going on with us?”
Your eyes widen and your shocked expression makes him stumble over his words more.
“This has nothing to do with why we’re here,” he goes on. “What I mean is, uh…”
His last sentence trails off when the two of you are interrupted by a ‘friend’ that comes over to say hi. Bucky leans against the bar and slides his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. The woman starts chatting you up about an upcoming event in the neighborhood but all you can focus on is the warmth of Bucky’s arm and the soft brush of his fingers at your elbow.
Bucky nods and interjects every so often but you just keep sipping your drink and trying not to make your reaction to his touch too obvious. His hand glides along your side and up to your shoulder where he starts toying with the thin strap of your dress. It falls to the side and he ghosts his fingertips across your bare skin, catching your eye when you tremble slightly.
“Excuse me a moment,” you say quietly. “I’m just going to use the restroom.”
Bucky gives you a quick peck on the cheek and watches you walk away, reluctantly turning back to the conversation. After five minutes passes Bucky starts to worry so he politely excuses himself.
He quickly finds the bathroom and knocks, calling your name while pressing his ear to the door. You unlock it and peer through the small crack.
“Are you ok baby doll?” Bucky asks, concern evident in his features.
“I’m ok,” you whisper, opening it further.
He takes that as an invitation and squeezes in, shutting and locking it behind him.
“You sure?” he asks.
“I want to know what you were going to say before we got interrupted.”
He lets out a breath and takes a tentative step closer. His metal fingers reach out to fix the strap of your dress, his touch delicate as his hand remains and he takes another step toward you.
“I’m sorry I’m always so grumpy and that I make everything difficult for you,” he starts, his legs now pressing against yours in the small bathroom.
“You don’t make things difficult,” you tell him, lifting your fingers to fix the collar of his shirt.
Before you drop your hand he takes it in his and brings your palm to his lips.
“Do you know what it’s like for me to go to sleep every night with you in the next room. How badly I want to go to you, what I want to do to you.”
You open your mouth to speak but he stops you, pressing his lips lightly to yours as he whispers, “I hear you at night. I know you touch yourself while you’re thinking of me.”
Your mouth opens to protest but your words fall away when he slides his tongue across your lips, brushing his thumb over your jaw before kissing you breathless. A moan leaves the back of your throat and he loses any control he had, his metal hand sliding along your inner thigh to lift your dress.
You let your legs fall open and he growls when he brushes his fingers over the wet patch on your underwear. You start to tug his shirt free of his pants, fumbling with the buckle as his fingers explore between your legs, pushing the lace aside and collecting your arousal.
“I’ve thought about this for so long,” he whispers, letting his head fall to the crook of your neck, “of how perfect you would feel coming apart on my fingers.”
He teases you with every movement, pulling whimpers from your parted lips as his finger glides over your clit. You grab his wrist and look him in the eye, silently begging for more. He captures your lips just as he slides a single finger inside you, his low groan sending electricity across your skin.
“Tell me baby girl,” he purrs, “do those sweet fingers of yours feel as good as mine?”
Before you can answer he pushes a second finger into you. “Because you feel so much better than I imagined.”
You rock your hips onto his hand and chase your release. His thumb presses to your clit and starts to rub in small circles, his hard cock rubbing against your thigh with each pump of his thick fingers.
“Answer me,” he breathes out.
“No,” you moan, “nothing feels as good.”
“Just wait until I fuck you with my cock baby doll.”
His words push you over the edge and you fall apart on his fingers, your hips stuttering as your release washes over you and he draws out every shuddering breath.
He holds you steady with a strong hand at your waist and slowly removes his hand, lifting his fingers between your bodies and bringing them to his mouth. He holds your heated gaze while he licks them clean.
“And you taste sweeter than sugar,” he croons, licking his lips. “I need more.”
He kneels, hiking the material of your dress up and over your thighs but before he can get his mouth on you there’s a loud knock at the door. You’re startled from your haze and you quickly shift your dress back into place and grab his hand.
“Be right out,” you say, turning on the water in the sink.
“Shit, shit, shit Buck,” you mutter. “We have to get back out there.”
He turns you around in his arms, silencing your continued rambles with a dominating kiss.
“What are you going to say when we open the door?” he asks, a shit eating grin on his face.
“That I wasn’t feeling well after the drinks and you came to check on me. I just needed a minute to sit and gather myself.”
The words sound good when you say them but then you turn to look in the mirror and run your fingertips over your pink and swollen lips. Your dress is rumpled and Bucky’s shirt is still partially untucked.
“It looks like you just fucked me,” you giggle.
His chest presses to your back and his cock throbs along your skin, the feeling making you bite your lips to suppress a moan.
“Just wait until I get the chance,” he promises, slipping his fingers under the hem of your dress.
You bat them away and poke him in the chest. “Fix yourself. We have a job to do first.”
Once he’s decent again you smooth your hands over your dress and open the door, holding your stomach as you walk out.
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t feeling well,” you explain to the lady outside the door. “I think I had one too many drinks.”
She eyes you both suspiciously and Bucky gives her a sly smile as he gently guides you down the hallway with a hand at your lower back.
“Do you think it worked?” you ask once you’re clear of the bathroom.
“No way,” he laughs, wrapping you in his arms.
You lean into him. “I never got a chance to tell you anything back there.”
Bucky smiles, his eyes soft but full of mischief. “I’d say I was sorry but I’m not at all.”
You dip your head with a giggle and smooth your hands along his chest. You start to gather your thoughts but before you can get them out, you catch a flash of silver from the corner of your eye. Bucky reacts just a second later but it’s too late.
He shields you with his body even as the injury incapacitates him. His metal arm deflects the next two bullets but you know you need to do something and fast. With quick movements you reach under his pant leg and find his knife. With a deft flick of your wrist, it goes flying through the air and into the neck of your assailant.
The man falls to the floor in a heap and you immediately press your hands against Bucky’s side.
“It’s ok doll,” he grits out. “Call Sam.”
You keep pressure on the wound with one hand, ignoring the screams of the people around you and the stream of tears running down your cheeks and make the call.
After what feels like hours you finally feel Bucky stir next to you.
“Hey doll face,” he says hoarsely. “You ok?”
Your eyes water and instead of saying a word you kiss him softly on the lips. Your fingers trace his jaw, trailing over the dark hair that lines his cheeks and then you kiss him again. On the lips, on the cheeks, on the nose. You pepper him with kisses all over his face until he’s bright eyed and smiling.
“I’m fine,” you tell him when you finally stop kissing him. “Now that I know you’re ok.”
“Never been better,” he murmurs, cradling your cheek and pulling you down for another kiss.
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Ties That Bind 4
Pairing: MC!Bucky Barnes x Clint’s Twin Sister!Reader
Warning: Oh theeeeee language, sass, banter, violence, sexual puns, loss, abuse mentioned, possessive male characters, criminal activity, defiant females.
At the age of six, Bucky gave me a valentine’s day card, with a sloppy heart and BB scribbled inside.
At ten, he gave me a kiss on the cheek after wailing on Clint for pulling my hair.
At twelve, he pissed me off, staking claim on me in front of the others.
At fifteen, we had our first break up.
At eighteen, we graduated high school and got married.
At twenty one, everything changed.
Two years later, he’s dragging me home… to face the table and all I ran out on.
Tag List Is Open!!
Lying on my back staring at the ceiling, watching the headlights flash by. My mind drifts off, slipping down memory lane. The same place it always went when lying in the dark alone.
My relationship with Bucky was never anything simple. He’s strong headed, stubborn, hotheaded, the boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Sure, we argued, probably a lot, okay not probably, just a lot. You know that stupid saying, I’d rather argue with you, than kiss anyone else; yeah, that was me and Bucky from the go.
He was never a yell and scream, that was me. He was a cold and calculated, silent type. He rarely yelled; it was the deep growl that came from him that was the sign he was angry. There was one fight I’d never forget.
“Why Buck? You won’t even hear me out?” Chasing after his long strides.
“No.” He grumbles.
“Bucky! That’s not fair!” I snap at him.
“It’s fucking prom, Babe! We don’t do that shit.” He stops suddenly, making me back track to face him.
“No you, don’t do that shit. I want too.” Poking him in the chest.
“We’re not those type of kids.” He rolls his eyes.
“Why can’t we be? What is so wrong with wanting to be fucking normal for once!” Throwing my hands up.
“We’re not normal. We’re trouble, we’re the kids from the other side of town.” He reminds me.
“I know what I am. I know who I am and where I come from, James.” Hissing at him.
“So why are you trying to play dress up and go to some fucking stupid dance, with bad music, prissy girls, and stupid suits.” He grumbles.
“Tux’s. You wear a tux to prom.” Smirking at him.
“Oh fuck that.” He growls, rolling his eyes.
“You really won’t even hear me out about going?” Folding my arms over my chest.
“I’m not going to prom, Babe. Drop it.” He warns me.
Pressing my lips together, nodding slowly.
“Don’t do that.” He stares down at me.
Shrugging a shoulder.
“Don’t.” He sighs.
I suck in a breath, nodding as I let it out.
“Fuck.” He sighs.
“Fine you won’t even hear me out. Maybe Warner, wants to take me.” I shrug, leaving him standing there, growling to himself.
Sitting on my bed, studying. The rap on the window makes me look up. Bucky is sitting on the roof, looking annoyed, outside the window. With a sigh I slide off the bed, opening the window.
“What?” Sassing him, like a snotty teen.
“We can go to prom.” He grumbles, looking like he was being tormented by the words alone.
“You don’t want to go to prom.” I remind.
“No, I don’t.” He sighs. “But I love your annoying, petty ass, and you want to go. So, we’re fucking going to prom.” He gives me a stern look.
“Maybe I already asked Warner.” Casually shrugging.
“Babe, I will climb down this damn roof and take my irritation out on Warner if you don’t just say thank you.” He grumbles.
My head tips, squinting as I think it over.
“Y/N.” He bites through his teeth.
“Okay, we’ll go to prom.” I grin, nodding.
“I swear.” He mutters, shaking his head.
“Thank you, Bucky.” Leaning out, kissing him.
“Yeah, yeah. Of course, Babe. Anything for you.” He replies in a flat tone.
“I love you James Barnes.” Grinning at him.
“Fucking better.” He sighs. “You better marry my ass after all this.” He warns me.
Shrugging, he had a point. He really did go against all he liked and viewed for me.
“Ask me when we turn eighteen.” I remind him.
“Been the plan since we were six.” He chuckles, kissing me quickly before he begins his climb down.
Bucky hates his tux, he was literally counting down the minutes till he could take the thing off. I’m finishing getting ready, fussing over my hair, in the bathroom.
“Y/N Barton, hurry your fine ass up.” He grumbles from down the stairs.
“Hold your horses, Barnes!” I call back.
“You have two minutes.” He warns.
“Fuck off.” Calling back with a laugh, going back to trying to fix one curl.
It’s exactly two minutes before I hear him coming up the stairs.
“Times up. We’re leaving.” He crooks his finger at me.
“You’re such a grump!” I turn huffing at him.
“I’m uncomfortable in this monkey suit.” He mutters.
“You’re a ball of fun tonight.” Rolling my eyes.
“You look great. Let’s go.” He snaps his fingers, waving me on.
“Bucky!” I laugh.
“Fine.” He grabs my hips, tossing me over his shoulder. With that he’s leaving the bathroom, heading down the stairs. “Bye Barton’s!” He calls waving a hand as he heads for the front door.
“Oh god, dude, baby sister.” Barney groans.
“Have a good time!” My mom laughs calling after the two of us.
“Drive safe!” My dad calls.
“Bucky put me down.” I laugh hanging over his shoulder.
A horn honks pulling me from my thoughts. Sitting up, confused where I am now. Cool, wetness trails slowly down my cheeks. Quickly brushing at my cheeks, with my sleeves.
“You okay?” Peter asks.
“Steller.” I mutter in a broken voice.
“Darlin’, let me ask you something?” He glances in the review mirror.
“What?” Tucking a loose strand of hair back.
“Why did you leave?” He sounds so hurt.
“You ever wake up and realize everything is completely fucked up?” I wonder.
“Depends how much I drank the night before.” He shrugs.
“No,” I snort softly “I mean, your whole world is just fucking messed up. Your parents are dead, your married to the only man you know, you’re a nurse with a criminal record, and you have secrets that would make Frankie sweat.” I sigh.
“I still have my parents, Darlin’. I’m so sorry about yours.” He sighs. “I’m not a nurse, but I did wake up once wearing your naughty nurse costume once.” He points out. “You know making Frankie sweat is like a myth, the guy’s never nervous.” He smirks softly.
“We traded costumes, at the Halloween bash.” A sad smile on my lips.
“You made death punch, and I woke in your costume, last time I trust you to make my drinks.” He mutters.
“That’s the night Bucky asked me if I wanted to have kids.” I admit is a small voice.
“What?!” Peter jerks, looking back. The car drifts, horns blare, he quickly rights himself. “He asked you about kids?” He gaps.
“He did.” Nodding, looking out the window.
“What did you say?” He wonders.
“Come on Peter, I’ve loved Bucky since elementary. I’d give him kids in a heartbeat.” My voice filled with sadness.
“What happened?” He asks.
“My parents died, a few months later.” I swallow.
“Fuck.” He comes to a stop. Bucky rolls to a stop next to him, looking over. Peter winces but rolls down his window.
“Problem?” Bucky calls.
“Oh, um.” Peter swallows. He catches my eye in the review. “Spider.” Peter blurts out. “He was on me.” He shrugs.
Bucky looks from Peter to my closed window. I sigh, dropping back down, covering my face with my arm.
Everything Peaches 8/8/20
Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes:
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Polyamorous Relationship with Sam and Bucky (Male!Reader) HC
Pride Month Post - Feel free to request for LGBTQ+ this month
The amount of sarcasm you get of both Sam and Bucky is out of this world, without some sarcasm and sass the relationship wouldn’t be as fun as it is.
“Buck and Sam, you’re some might fine looking men!” The compliments you give the two make Bucky go extremely bashful and Sam smirk.
Usually waking them up with breakfast as they sometimes forget to eat and you’re met with “Well, what’s cooking good looking?”
Sam wears an apron that has “Kiss the chef.” And expects both you and Bucky to kiss him. He gets jokingly offended when one of you or either of you don’t.
You all share one another’s clothes, if you’re a different size to them then they insist on getting you the clothes. Surprising you with new shirts and trousers, asking which one did better.
Bucky letting you or Sam do his hair since he’ll often shake his head, run his hands through it and call it ‘styled’.
Sam likes getting his back massaged after a mission, Bucky playfully calls him high maintenance but you don’t mind treating one of your men.
If anyone ever flirts with you in public, no matter the gender, the two will interject with a hint of jealousy in their voices.
“ ^ “What you doing looking at our man?” - Sam would have narrowed eyes, be more intimidating than your used too.
^ “He’s taken, now scram.” - Bucky, he would say it with a slight glare since he gets easily jealous. More so than Sam.
When your boys are away on missions they make sure to call you along with video messages or FaceTime. Always keeping you updated but sometimes lying about their safety.
You and Sam playing pranks on Bucky which results in him either being a grump, or getting his own ‘revenge’ on the two of you when you least expect it.
Photos of you three are on each of your phone wallpapers: Bucky’s is three of you on a date, Sam is the three of you at an amusement park wearing silly costumes (and a very grumpy Buck as you made him wear Mickey Mouse Ears), and yours is the three of you cuddled up in bed.
^ They know how worried you get so they tell little white lies. Sometimes you catch them out, to which they stutter and deny lying to you since they know they’d be in big trouble.
But when they do get home from a mission then the three of you cuddle one another, it’s almost like a group hug. Except they never want to let go of you. Ever.
Marvel Masterlist: @amourtentiaa @tatesimper @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @darlingkitt @elaineygrace @satanscomplex @mossybank @blackbat2020 @peterskindacool @multiyfandomgirl40 @billyhxrgrove - Taglist in Pinned Post
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Come Closer To Me
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader
Word count: 2.4K (oops!)
Summary: Sometimes you don’t see what’s right in front you. Thank goodness for friends.
Warnings: It’s fluff folks but it was written for an 18+ audience. AU.
A/N: Happy New Year’s! This is my entry for the Hoelidays Challenge hosted by @stargazingfangirl18 @navybrat817 @donutloverxo It’s also my first time posting on this site. Thank you to these wonderful writers for creating a fun, engaging space during a difficult year. The prompts were: There’s only one bed + “I know a way to warm you up.” There’s a dash of huddling together to stay warm and a sprinkle of two idiots in love. Trope city here we come! This was not beta read; apologies for the errors and such.
Steve didn’t like you.
It’s not because you were mouthy and opinionated. He’d come across every personality type—and Tony Stark— in his hundred-plus years under the sun and visits to other planets. It’s not because you had a habit of sweeping his mission ideas into the garbage like stale party leftovers, or that you did it in front of his team. He didn’t have that big of an ego; he still carried pre-serum, last-at-everything Steve and the rigors of training camp with him. He’d witnessed some of the worst atrocities humans could inflict, been wounded and that sort of thing made most things, like you taking over a team meeting here and there, feel small.
It’s not because everyone’s so damned taken with you.
Sam was a given—he was a people person, a gregarious extrovert who was bound to be charmed in finding someone who’d volley his one-liners and laugh at his jokes. You spoke Banner’s language, the two of you sometimes nerded out on complex scientific theories like children playing with their favorite toys. Natasha respected the way your mind operated several lanes of strategy at once, how you’d switch, adapt and improvise. She’d recently started training you in self-defense tactics after an incident at your apartment complex—basically Natasha’s version of offering you a friendship bracelet. Bucky had slowly taken on the role of your big brother, and though Steve had been a teeny, tiny bit jealous of seeing his best friend form a special bond with you, he smiled at hearing his Bucky’s laughter again and seeing him lighthearted, like the best parts of the old Bucky still lived in this version and you’d found the spare key to unlock them for others to see.
Steve didn’t like you and even after a year, he still couldn’t pinpoint the reason why you’d gotten under his skin this way. The why of it all would have to wait because he was driving through a snow storm…with you. And Tony Stark would have an epic fit if his favorite analyst—you’d won him over too—returned with so much as a broken fingernail on what was a simple, almost non-assignment assignment.
Howling winds and swirls of snow battered the SUV. The red glow of lights ahead was the only evidence he wasn’t the only one driving on this three-lane highway. Visibility was rapidly declining to the point he could barely see a few feet past the hood of the car. Steve hoped they all would make it to their individual destinations safely. He spared a glance to the passenger seat. Blue light touched your face as your fingers slid across your phone. A realization hit just as he was about to speak.
You were scared.
It was in the set of your jaw, in how unnaturally quiet you’d been for most of the drive. Steve gripped the wheel, searching for ways to reassure you. Somehow a don’t worry, we’ll make it just wouldn’t cut it in this situation.
“I know you’ve been dyin’ to…” he told you, settling for distraction as his tactic. “So why don’t you just say it?”
You looked up from your phone and frowned at him, which wasn’t usual for you. “Say what?”
“I told you so.” You’d wanted to drive up to the old HYDRA site hours earlier just to be on the safe side but he’d nixed the suggestion. The storm had blown through much earlier than predicted. Both of you would’ve been back at the compound hours ago had Steve listened to you.
You stared him down with your head tilted, the effect both casual and dramatic. How does she do that? This was the most animated you’d been in an hour. “When you’re as right as I am, you don’t need to say ‘I told you so’.”
“Ah, the old sarcasm is back.” He suddenly felt like the world had gotten lighter. “You had me worried there for a minute.”
“Steve…” You sounded a bit exasperated—again not uncommon when you spoke to him. “This really isn’t the time for you to be pulling on my pigtails like we’re in elementary school, okay? Just focus on driving. Our exit is coming up.”
“Hey,” he said gently. “We’re gonna make it…It’ll be okay.” You nodded and to Steve’s surprise the tension rolling off you receded some.
The rustic one-room cabin was one of Stark’s properties about an hour’s drive from the Avengers’ compound. The more senior agents sometimes used it as a retreat so there were some basic supplies left behind: enough firewood to last until morning, some bottles of water and a few breakfast bars.
You’d settled on the sofa across the fireplace, laptop in hand while you typed today’s field report and uploaded files.
“So…” Steve began and sipped a cup of herbal tea. He wasn’t much of a tea drinker but you’d offered and he’d felt too guilty about putting you in this predicament to say no to your kind gesture. God, this is uncomfortable. “About the sleeping situation.”
There was only one bed.
“You can sleep on the couch,” you announced before turning to look at him, head tilted again in your casual yet dramatic fashion. And once again he wondered how you did it. Then you smiled, your eyes lit up with something he couldn’t place, maybe mischief, because he was too preoccupied by how pretty you looked in the firelight. “The fact that it’s small shouldn’t be a problem, judging by the size shirts you wear.”
Steve’s face flushed with embarrassment; even his ears were burning.
“I’m sorry,” you laughed. “That was a little mean.”
“Consider it my punishment for putting us in this predicament. I’m really sorry.”
You waved him off as you rose. “I know you wouldn’t intentionally put us in harm’s way. You thought we’d get back in time.”
“Thanks,” he murmured sheepishly.
“But I’m still taking the bed.”
“For the record, I’d planned to sleep here anyway.” After all his ma raised him to be a gentleman. “It’s warmer.”
It was almost one in the morning when Steve heard an intermittent low sound. He threw back his blanket, sat up on the couch and listened. The sound of the fire crackling and an occasional gust of wind filled the cabin. He waited and waited and then he heard it again. It came from a few feet away where you lay sleeping. He caught a slight movement and called your name soft enough not to disturb you if you were truly asleep. A moment passed before you spoke.
“W-what?” Your voice sounded low…and different. Different enough for Steve to get up and check on you. Sure enough, the noise he’d heard was the sound of your teeth chattering.
“No k-kidding, C-captain Obvious,” you grumped from under the covers. “L-look outside. We’re in the m-middle of a s-snow storm.”
Steve frowned. “Why didn’t you say something.”
“What do you c-care? You hate me.” Ouch. The assessment bothered him but he’d have to sort that out later.
“W-what?” You lifted your head off the pillow and looked at him like he’d gone insane.
“You heard me—c’mon, get up!” And when you pulled your blanket over your head, you left him no choice but to peel it back.
“Steve!” you squealed as he scooped you up from the cold bed and set you down on your feet. “What the hell—”
“I know a way to warm you up,” he told you as he wrapped your blanket around you. He lifted the mattress off its frame with ease then carried it towards the fireplace.
“Show off,” you murmured and shook your head. He moved the couch as far back as the space allowed then dropped the mattress near the fireplace.
“C’mon, Grumpy.” His hand gestured for you to come to bed. You looked stunned and grateful and adorable draped in a blanket, hugging your pillow.
“T-thank you,” you whispered before you settled down onto the mattress and sighed when warmth enveloped you.
And then it was Steve’s turn to be stunned when you scooted the one end of the bed, offering him the spot next to you. It was on the tip of his tongue to decline and return to the little couch. He could watch over you until you fell asleep from a safe distance. Instead he found himself grabbing his pillow off the couch and returning to you.
“Do you want my jacket?” he asked when you shivered next to him.
“S’okay…I’ll warm up soon…feels much better already. Thank you.”
“Come closer, doll. You’ll be warmer.” Doll? His cheeks must have been red by now. But his embarrassment disappeared when he felt the mattress shift. You were close. Closer. Closer. Face to face. He reminded himself that you were both fully dressed.
“Much better,” you sighed in appreciation, eyes closed. In minutes you’d be asleep.
“I…I don’t hate you.” Your eyes found his and he saw the skepticism there. “It’s true. I don’t.”
“But you don’t like me either.” Your voice sounded too flat, like you’d worked hard to sound devoid of any feeling on the matter.
“Well, you don’t like me!” Steve countered and realized just how childish he sounded when it was too late. But his curiosity got the better him too. “Why do you go after me the way you do during team meetings?”
You looked down; brows furrowed like you were taking great care with you answer. “It’s my job to make sure I’ve thought through everything that could go wrong on a mission, so you…the team…come back safe. You can be so damned bullheaded when you’re trying to help or do the right thing. And—” You faltered, debating if you should continue.
“You can be selfless to a fault…but it makes you reckless too. And the rest of the team…they’d follow you almost anywhere, Steve, even if you warned them not to. Your stubbornness doesn’t make my job easy.”
He offered you a half smile. “Touché.”
“It’s settled then.” Your voice sounded thick with exhaustion and you curled against him, trusting him so completely you fell asleep seconds later.
Something had shifted between the two of you tonight. The tension and unease between you had been replaced by something more…hopeful maybe despite the questions that still lingered. Steve couldn’t categorize but he knew it. Just like he knew he liked the soft weight of you pressed alongside his body. The hidden loneliness that had followed the old Steve Rogers into the new millennium had been soothed for a moment.
“They’ve been kinda nice to each other lately. You sure nothing happened at the cabin?” Clint asked before taking a sip of his old-fashioned.
A small group of Avengers had assembled around the bar on the mezzanine level of Tony’s penthouse. His version of a small New Year’s Eve get-together turned out to be a Gatsby themed soiree of a hundred or so impeccably dressed people. There was no shortage of tuxedos, fringed dresses, sequins and sparkling accessories. The evening was buzzing with music, conversation, laughter and alcohol.
“No.” Nathasha said with a mix of disappointment.
“But he’s a gentleman,” Sam said, still hopeful. “He’s won’t kiss and tell.”
Bucky smirked. “I know Steve. Believe me nothing happened. Told ya, that trapped-in-the-cabin bit wasn’t gonna work.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Should we call it a draw then?”
Bruce joined the group before Bucky responded. “What are you guys conspiring about? You’ve been huddled up here for a while. These three, I get but you,” Bruce said pointing to Sam, “you do realize you’re at a party right?”
“Barnes and Wilson have a bet going on when Steve’s finally going to admit he has a crush and do something about it.” Natasha chuckled. “Lately, they’ve gotten rather creative in helping him along.”
Bruce frowned. “Steve has a crush? On who?”
Natasha shook her head in response and ran her fingers along his jaw. “Banner, how can someone so brilliant, be so oblivious!” He blushed, not missing the innuendo there. The other three men in the group hadn’t missed it either judging by the smirks and pointed stares.
Natasha brought Bruce up to speed on Steve’s crush on you, his absolute cluelessness about it and how you seemed to be no better off. Then she revealed Sam’s part in providing Steve an inaccurate weather forecast ahead of his assignment with you. She found it underhanded, but Sam shrugged and reasoned that a winter storm would be a proverbial cake walk for Captain America, especially if he was with you.
“Really? I don’t see it,” Bruce mused and Nat rolled her eyes.
“Haven’t you noticed how nervous they get around each other?” she asked.
“The sexual tension during meetings.” Sam raised his brows suggestively, causing everyone but Bruce to laugh. “Am I right?”
“Have any of you talked to them about it?”
Clint looked confused. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Nat scanned the crowd. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen either of them in a while.”
Bucky landed a playful jab against Sam’s shoulder causing the man to stumble. “Get ready to pay up.”
“You must be dreaming, Tin Man!”
The pair squabbled as they set off in search of Steve and you.
The both of you had found a semi-peaceful corner on the western balcony away from the rest of the team. They’d been acting weird the whole week, especially with their curious looks and whispers. It was an unseasonably mild evening, a stark contrast to the icy cold of last weekend.
Neither of you had noticed how much time had passed until the countdown had begun.
The energy around you became charged with romantic expectation. You both knew something was bound to happen after that night in the cabin. And now here it was.
Steve blushed. Wait, had you moved closer?
Your eyes drifted to his mouth then darted back to his eyes, asking and giving permission.
His hands framed your face and he lowered his head. He stopped halfway, hopeful you’d close the distance.
Your breath fanned his jaw. His heart raced.
Fireworks burst into the sky, lighting up the balcony in streaks of orange, red and silver. You closed the gap between the two of you and the world faded away. The first brush of your lips was tentative and sweet, mimicking the way your hands crept up his shoulders to his nape. It was perfect.
The laughter and commotion of people shouting Happy New Year, interrupted the kiss just as it got more heated. You stared at each other, a little shocked by how good it was.
And in the distance, just over your shoulder, stood a smiling Bucky Barnes who’d just collected money from Sam.
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A World of Our Own Pt.07
Decrepit Old Grump
Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 5,510
Warnings: language, smut, fluff, angst
A/N: Y’all, I have not edited this chapter much at all. I edited the first part and that’s about it. I’m too tired to edit and I may come back and edit later but I didn’t want to make y’all wait anymore as I already made y’all wait a long time before I came back to it. I’m sorry if it stinks. <3 If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo
Bucky is gutted.
He can feel the weight of his guilt growing as you sit there on the beach staring out at the crashing waves, sky turning an inky purple where it kisses the sea as the sun sets.
Your skin is enveloped by ocean wind, briny and thick it coats you with sea salt making you sticky with its humidity.
In this light, you’re glowing. A beauty. With tears slowly rolling across one cheek then the other as your sorrow wounds you repeatedly. Over and over you play it all in your head. Remembering the sounds of the chopper, the violent swish of tall grass and palms, gunpowder saturating the air as he lays on the ground and you panic over him pressing your hands against his wound.
Reaching up, he feels the spot, pressing his palm flat against the spot now healed and only a little sore.
The slump of your shoulders, the dead weight of your hands as they rest at your sides on the sand without moving, Bucky can see it all from where he stands by the hut.
You’ve given up. All hope gone. Not only are you stuck here on this island forever, but you were betrayed by Ryan.
Someone that Bucky suddenly wonders might have meant more to you than he realized. A real spark.
Of course, Bucky knows that you love him. It’s in your eyes, or it was before you were both permanently marooned here because of him—this is all his fault after all.
Still, maybe you cared more for Ryan than you were willing to admit? Could you have loved him too?
The two of you had been close. Despite your suspicions, your gentle guarding against him, could your spark have turned into real feelings?
Bucky hates this thing, this oozing pit of green sludge he knows is jealousy.
He knows he shouldn’t feel it. This is bigger than who anyone might be attached to emotionally or attracted to physically. This is life and death.
With being left here, all hopes of a real future are gone.
No jobs. No family. No friends. No children…Why had he gone and told you he wanted to have them with you?
How much must that be hurting you now?
Of course, with you hating him now, maybe the very thought of having kids with him is repulsive? He’d never been able to see himself as a father before you. Maybe this is all for the best? No matter how much it hurts to think.
He hesitates, waiting to see if you’ll turn or rise. You haven’t eaten all day and he knows its depression keeping you anchored here to this beach. A final depression. Dark and consuming.
However, he also knows that despite your giving up, even now your eyes scan the horizon for possible ships. Not in hope, merely habit.
When you continue not to move, he breathes in deep to gather his courage and moves towards you slowly.
You don’t even twitch at the sound of his approach.
You don’t even care that he’s there. Do you?
You’ve been so distant since Ryan left, sleeping in his now empty room on the floor. Bucky was willing to give you space at first.
How you must not be able to look at him…
The pit in his stomach widens, bringing with it painful aches of missing you pressed into his side. He misses the smell of your skin and the touch of your lips against his throat when you’d wake up in the middle of the night, searching for comfort.
He's lost you and he has only himself to blame.
However, whether you hate him or not, he can’t let you keep neglecting yourself the way you have. He can’t keep his distance anymore. Not completely.
He’s still responsible for keeping you alive, even more so with Ryan’s deception.
He'll force you if he has to. He needs you. Even if you can never love him again, he needs to see, hear, and know that you’re well.
The hiss of the sand as he walks to you is soft with deliberate steps taken towards you then he stops.
Beside you, Bucky crouches and he penetrates your peripherals, filing you with wretched agony at the scowl in place on his beautiful face.
That face had smiled at you once. Kissed you. Assured you of safety. Loved you.
Now…how can he not despise you after your misguided trust?
How can he not hate you for your reckless friendship with that stupid man. You’re so angry at him you can’t even think his name.
You don’t want to remember him, but your heart will not let you forget.
You’d thought it so many times. So often. He’s a good man. A good father. He’s my friend and he’d never do anything to hurt us.
How very wrong you’d been. How foolish and trusting and generally stupid.
“Get up.” Bucky orders, his voice hard like it had once been so long ago when he’d dragged you up from the beach and through the trees where he’d put the fuselage.
You thought you’d heard the last of that voice. If he hates you, you suppose it makes sense that he’d adopt it once again. Why would he speak with love to you when he clearly can’t trust you or your judgement?
It hurts to hear his dislike of you, you can’t bear to see it to. So, you keep your eyes trained on the horizon, looking at nothing.
You don’t answer him either. This upsets him.
“You can’t keep ignoring me. And you can’t keep sitting here, crying your eyes out, not eating.” He huffs, gets to his feet and towers over you, legs spread slightly as he waits for you to look at him maybe, hands flexing in and out of fists.
What does he want from you? How can he expect you to respond to him when he’s like this after months of feeling his love?
He hadn’t even stopped you when you came back to the hut and told him you were going to sleep in the other room.
“Whatever you want.” He’d said in monotone, sitting stiff by the fire after you’d just cleaned, stitched, and dressed his wound.
He let you go; let you sleep away from him. You’d almost hoped he’d ask you back into your room, but he didn’t, and you weren’t bold enough to ask to come back when he so clearly didn’t want you.
“This isn’t helping anyone, Y/N. Get up.” Bucky chastises, driving a nail through your heart with every stern word. “Are you seriously just going to sit there?”
Your lips twitch tempted to shout at him to leave you alone. Very nearly you look up at him and yell at him to let you starve and die because that would leave him unburdened and free of you. But you picture it, his face, all scowly and angry. A hate in those steel ice eyes that had once overflowed with adoration and love.
No, you can’t look at him. It’ll break your heart more than it already does to wake up in the mornings without him at your side.
You mash your lips together, refusing to answer him and tilt your chin up in defiance.
It happens so quickly and you’re all of a sudden upside down, or…close to it.
Bucky swoops down and grabs you, tossing you over his shoulder and you’re not sure how he does it but he won’t let go and he doesn’t seem to have trouble lifting you—he pulled a literal piece of a plane inland so why would he?—as he turns and marches towards the tree line.
“Bucky! Let me go!” You scream, startled as you bounce against his back.
Trying desperately to find a hold on something, you push yourself against his waist but your hands keep slipping over his hips where you finally take hold of the loops of his jeans and use them to anchor yourself so that you’re not bobbing up and down as much.
“Bucky please-” You begin, an attempt to plead with him because this is the closest you’ve been to him in a month and you can smell him. The heat he radiates, just a bit hotter than normal, penetrates every fiber of clothing you’re wearing.
“I don’t know where the hell you got the idea that this behavior is alright. You want to starve yourself? You do it once I’m dead. Do you have any idea what you look like? What you smell like?” Bucky argues, strutting faster as he swerves between the trees.
The embarrassment you feel overwhelms you into silence because you don’t know what you look like or what you smell like. It must not be good if it’s made Bucky this angry. You feel shame suddenly that the man you love is seeing you like this.
For it to get so bad that he breaks whatever distance he’d wanted to keep between the two of you, it must be disgusting.
Your heart is suddenly thrumming for a whole new reason, and you’re very aware of how close to your butt Bucky’s face must be and with his enhanced senses, just how well he must be able to smell.
“Bucky put me down.” You squirm, pushing against him and pulling yourself up enough to grip his shoulders and hold yourself up a little straighter as the fear in you builds.
His arms only tighten around your legs and waist, refusing to loosen his grip as he continues to march forward.
“Bucky…” You push against him harder, a frenzy taking you over as you kick and squirm, hoping to maybe knock him off balance but instead he stops and suddenly, you’re weightless.
You fall for what feels like forever as your face is overtaken with shock. You see his frown as you fall, his eyes boring into yours until you hit water and sink down into cool green waters.
You gasp, swallowing water but quickly find your footing and push yourself up from the floor of what you realize is the bathing pool that Bucky had rebuilt closer to the hut.
You gasp and choke as you surface, eyes wide with panic as you push the water out of your face and try to catch your breath.
“You wanna let yourself fall apart, you do it on the other side of the island where I can’t watch you do it, because I won’t sit here and put up with it, Y/N. I can’t.” Bucky points at you, his finger firm.
“What the fuck, Bucky?!” You gasp, still wheezing from swallowing water.
“I get that this isn’t exactly an ideal situation.” He starts, pacing a step away from you before coming right back up to the lip of that pool and presses his hand to his chest. “I’m not innocent. I’ve been paying for the crimes I’ve committed ever since Steve pulled me back from the brink and I know that I’ve done a lot of wrong since. Getting you stranded here on this island…if I could take it back, I would. If I could fix it so that you weren’t on that plane when they blew it up, I would do it in a heartbeat.
“I get that this is my fault. I understand that them wanting me dead has put you in this fucked up situation, stuck here with no possible escape, and hate me if you want to. That’s fine, I’m used to it. I get it if you never want to speak to me again, but please stop neglecting yourself. If you want to punish me, I’ll think of some other way for you to do it, but please…please don’t make me the reason you die here because I couldn’t stand it, Y/N. I’ll find you a way off of this place.
“I’ll build a raft or a bigger fire or…I’ll think of something, just…I need you to eat something. I need you to take care of yourself. I need you to care. Don’t let what I did hurt you more than I already have.
“I’ll fix this. I promise. Alright?” He’s still fierce in his words, but slowly his anger has receded into begging.
Before you stands a desperate man, asking you to keep living and all you can think about is one thing.
“I…” You swallow hard, fighting the knots in your stomach and the aching squeeze of your heart as a fleeting hope takes shine within it. “I don’t hate you, Bucky.”
The words are mostly air, still too stunned by his speech and certain parts of it in particular to catch your breath fully from the sudden dunk into very cool water.
He takes a breath, staring at you as you look at his feet, shaking your head before finally meeting his eyes.
You blink against the water still dripping down from your hair into them and wipe at the drops that get trapped in your lashes.
“What?” He asks, his own voice rising in pitch in confusion.
“I don’t hate you.” You repeat, this time strongly with a voice so clear that the birds making nest for the night go quiet. “I could never hate you. How could you even think that?”
You lick your lips, wiping more water away from you face while Bucky stares at you, blinking as he processes the words you’ve spoken. It’s clear in his expression the flurry of thoughts that must be speeding through his mind.
“But you moved out of ro-” He begins, but you don’t let him finish, wrapping your arms around yourself to battle the chill that’s begun to set in.
“Because I thought that you were angry with me…because I trusted him. I kept insisting that he was our friend and I was so…so stupid for believing him.” Your voice breaks, pent up sorrow breaking through as you look away from him because you can’t bear to see the look of disappointment on his face when you admit your crimes.
He says nothing.
“If I’d been more careful maybe we might have noticed something sooner? If I hadn’t been so won over by the story of his kid or the way that he pretended to be nice, I’m sorry, Bucky. I’m sorry that I didn’t-”
There’s a splash and you blink against the rush of water. You have no time to search for the source because he’s there, in front of you, his hands wiping away the water from your cheeks.
He presses himself so close that there isn’t a part of you that isn’t touching him. You tilt your head to look at him, meet his eye and see a desperation in his own as his lips curl into a small sad smile. His eyes are soft, his brow is raised at the center as he drinks in your own expression of surprise.
“You really don’t hate me?” He wonders, voice soft and sweet and full of fading anguish.
“No.” You nearly sob, shaking your head as much as you can in his vice-like hold. “I could never hate you, Bucky. I’ve told you before. You’re my hero. My savior in more ways than one stupid. I love you.”
He closes the distance between you, fierce hungry lips painfully pressed to yours until he gets his fill then pulls back to sweep more water away from your cheeks.
“I’m not angry.” He whispers, reaching down to wrap his right arm around you. “I could never be angry with you for seeing the good in people. How can I when that’s what made you dumb enough to love me?”
You laugh, ecstatic and slightly insulted. “Did you just call me dumb?”
“Fuck yeah, I did.” Bucky shakes his head. “Stupid, lovable, dummy. You’re a hothead too. I hate that in a woman.”
His teasing fills your belly with butterflies and sweet warm tumbles.
You laugh again, then reach behind his neck to pull him down for another kiss, this time holding it for longer as you let your lips meld with his. Soft and fluid as a month’s worth of insecurity washes away in the water of the pool.
He sighs, angling your head with his metal hand as he parts his own lips and the heat of his breath parts your own. He deepens the kiss and you welcome him, a small whimper breaking the silence as you melt against his chest.
He pulls back to tilt his head the other way, “Will you come sleep in our bed now?” He asks, before meeting your lips again.
“Mmmph.” He moans, pushing you back until you hit the pool’s wall.
He nudges your legs open and you lift yourself easily in the water and wrap them around his waist as he presses in against you, flesh hand sliding down to your bottom to grab a firm hold.
You break the kiss, gasping as his lips drift to your neck until a sudden flash draws your eyes upwards followed by a sudden boom.
Bucky pulls back, staring up at the sky with you.
“This’ll hit in half an hour.” Bucky guesses, and you know it might hit sooner.
“Bad?” You wonder, dropping back down to your feet as you continue to stare at the canopy as it begins to sway more strongly as the wind picks up.
“Bad enough.” Bucky frowns. “I need to go get the tools secured in the hut and check the nets.”
“I’ll help.” You offer and begin to move around him, but he turns back to you, planting you firmly against the wall.
“No. I wasn’t lying when I said you need a bath. You don’t stink as bad as I made it seem, but you haven’t been taking care of yourself, kitten. I’m not okay with what.” He’s stern again but this time, you can’t blame him.
“I’m sorry.” You allow, feeling shame once again for your inability to be strong through this.
“Don’t be.” He shakes his head. “This isn’t your fault. Or mine. We’re just here and we lost our way for a bit. I should have spoken up sooner. We’ll do better, right?”
You nod, eager to move on from this hiccup. “I’ll do better.”
“We’ll do better, Y/N.” He corrects, reaching up to caress your head. “There should still be some soap in the basket. I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”
He pulls himself out of the pool, untying the basket where you keep the soap you’d made up in the branches of a tree away from where animals might find them. He places it beside the edge and as another flash fills the sky, he hurries back towards the beach to prepare for the coming storm.
The hut shakes, a charge fills the air, and you sit up gasping. Clutching the thing almost worn blanket close, you turn your head this way and that, searching for the chopper.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Warm arms wrap around your shoulders, pull you closer as the thunder rumbles into nothing.
The rain is still pelting the outside of the hut, a constant stream of white noise as rain and wind thrash the beach and your island home.
The storm has gotten worse over the past few hours, the waves are loud and chaotic, rising higher than they’ve risen since you’ve been here. The beach and campfire where you usually sit and cook are under water.
Bucky building the hut on stilts has paid off and you curl into him as he drags you back down to lay in the plane cushion bed.
“It’s alright, it’s just the storm.” He promises, still half asleep.
You turn towards him, wrapping your arms around him, placing your palm flat against his chest.
“The storm.” You repeat, still mostly asleep yourself.
As your heart begins to slow, you reach up to trace the shape of his ear, slipping your hands up into his hair you pull him down for a kiss.
He gives it to you, his lips gentle and coaxing as he responds eagerly to the attention.
“Bucky…” You fret, thunder overhead shaking the hut once more as lightning flashes and illuminates the inside of the room.
The sky is a black void of weather, scary and unyielding as mother nature asserts her dominance over both your lives.
“It’s okay…” He promises, traces the curve of your body from hip to shoulder, then back down to your hip.
You snuggle closer, pulling him down for another kiss and this one he holds, his tongue slipping past your lips.
Toes curling, you sigh, pushing yourself up over him for only a second before he rolls you onto your back.
Already mostly naked, Bucky pushes his briefs down then pulls your panties aside and without hesitation pushes into you, stretching your heated cunt with his thick throbbing cock.
Both of you freeze, feeling each other for the first time as the sky flashes and thunders.
His mouth finds yours swallowing your moan as you both give in consequences be damned because you’re both here. You’re stuck, deserted, with no hope of rescue and you love him so much.
He thrusts into you, burying himself deep.
It’s a hazy dream, the pleasure his body pulls from you, until he’s pushing your legs open wide and you obey because you want him closer, deeper.
Suddenly the world is crystal clear. Sharp and detailed and you can feel the tip of his cock sliding against the walls of your cunt, prodding and sliding making your legs quiver and flex.
“More…” You beg, hands raking against taut shoulders, tracing cool metal. “…Bucky…”
He pushes himself onto his knees, angling himself up further until he’s mounted you and you’re trapped in the cage of his arms.
He grunts, driving you mad with the sounds he’s making because they’re better than anything you could have dreamt up.
You pull him down until he’s got his full weight on you, crushing you down as his hips continue to thrust.
The wind grows more violent, the rain falls harder. The lightning feels endless and the thunder never stops but you hear none of it as Bucky’s lips kiss your neck, his tongue tracing circles before his teeth bite into your throat.
The heat in your belly swells over, down into your hips and pelvis and your body is overwhelmed with pleasure. Toes curled, arms locked around Bucky’s shoulders, you stop breathing.
Bucky keeps pumping, drilling into you faster as he chases his own release then he stutters, hips clapping against your thighs as he spills into you, grunting with every thrust.
He doesn’t stop. He won’t stop. Even when he’s finished, his lips trail across your skin, searching for more.
He reaches down and pushes the bottom of your shirt all the way up, exposing one breast which he takes into his mouth, nibbling gently.
“More?” He checks, moving to the other, never once pulling away.
“Never stop.” You hope, pushing him until he’s on his back.
As you settle over him, hands pressed against his chest, he licks his lips and traces your sides. Stopping at your hips, he licks his lips in anticipation.
“Bucky!” You call, searching the beach in the distance, too tired to walk all the way out to the nets.
“Yeah?” He calls back, his shout distant enough that you know he’s in the water just beyond the rocks.
“Lunch is ready. Come eat before it gets cold.”
“Let me just finish with this trap.”
“Okay but hurry up.” You relent, knowing that he won’t come until he’s satisfied.
You move the fish away from the flame, careful and quick as they’re hot. Placing the extras on one of the trays you’d salvaged way back when from the plane, you move to take your usual seat beside the fire.
It’s been ten months of being stranded on the island. The two made bearable by the fact that Ryan’s betrayal had helped you and Bucky push into a new stage of intimacy.
You have sex often. Maybe not everyday as sometimes you’re both too exhausted to do more than sleep, but often enough that you’ve begun to wonder if you’ve made the right choice to give in.
There is no doubt in your mind that should a baby come, you and the child would be safe and well kept with Bucky at your side. Although the fear still lingers that something could go wrong, with either you or the baby, you’re sure that if you weren’t around to care for it, Bucky would do an amazing job as protector and keeper.
He doesn’t talk about it, but you know he, like you, wonders.
You’d stopped having regular periods well before you and Bucky began to have sex, so there would be no real way for you to know until you got big enough to show.
With a sigh, you push these thoughts away. This worry is only one of many and there are others much more important than a possible child.
With the storms getting worse, and hurricane season almost over, Bucky is sure that the island will see one more storm before it’s really over.
The idea of being caught in more scary weather fills your tummy with big bats and you want to forget the worry almost as soon as you remember it.
You unwrap your fish and pull it apart, careful to avoid the bones as you pick it to pieces and begin to eat.
You’re almost halfway through when Bucky finally settles in across from you, sighing with relief as he smiles and reaches for his plate.
“Everything good with the nets?” You check, mouth full of fish.
“Yeah, they’re fine. Just had to cast it out a little farther. Season’s changing so we might have to look for new fishing spots.” He explains and tears into his fish hungrily.
“We need to find more boar.” You sigh, pulling more bones from your fish. “We need the protein.”
He meets your gaze, blinking slowly as he watches you eat before nodding.
Neither of you has to vocalize your worry about protein and your health in case of a pregnancy.
“I think I spotted some yuca root on the far side of the island too. Some nopal and jícama too. We’ve been eating a lot of fruit; we’ll need to mix in some vegetables…for…it’ll be good for you.” He smiles, trying so hard to be relaxed.
“Vegetables…” You lament, moaning with desire for the long-forgotten tastes.
“I know. I’d love some good french fries.”
“Oh my-why would you bring up french fries?!”
Bucky chuckles. “Sorry. Just popped in there.”
Nervously, you lick your lips of the flavor of fish and set aside your leaf and tray.
“Yeah?” He doesn’t look up, focused instead on his food.
“We should make plans, just in case.”
“Not yet.” He sighs, the corners of his mouth curving down.
“We need to.”
“Not yet.” He insists.
“Bucky.” You press.
“Damn it, Y/N,” He looks up at you, shaking his head in resistance. “Not yet.”
“We have to, babe.” You smile sadly, shrugging your shoulders. “You may not want to think about it, but we have to. We gave in and with that comes the chance that the two of us could turn into three and we can’t afford to put this off. If something happens to me while I’m giving birth-”
“Okay!” He cuts you off, nodding. His eyes a little wild as he thinks quicky. “I agree, we need to make plans, but right now I’m not worried about what could happen in months. I need to find the caves Ryan was talking about and take some rations over there so that we have somewhere to go when this hurricane inevitably hits.”
“It might not come.” You argue, more hopeful than right.
“It will.” Bucky assures you. “And I can’t afford to get distracted until we’ve gotten all that setup. We will have this conversation just not yet. Okay? I know you’re worried. So am I.”
“And excited?” You check, a little timidly because yes, although you’re worried, you can’t deny the appeal that having Bucky’s baby holds.
A little one running around that looks like him? Sounds like him? The baby could very well look like you and sound like you too and that wouldn’t be so bad, but a little Bucky is too appealing not to hope for.
Bucky leans towards you, reaching to place his hand over yours as his eyes soften. “Of course, kitten. Yes, I’m excited too. It would be much sooner than I was hoping but I meant it when I said that I wanted this with you.”
Relief washes over you and you’re able to relax a little.
“But we’ll have time for that after I make sure I have somewhere safe for us to go.” He takes his hand back, focusing on his food once again.
You allow him to eat in silence for a bit, leaning back against the palm log as you watch the horizon with unfocused eyes.
A terrible thought has been growing in your mind for a while now. A thought you’ve been too scared to speak aloud for fear of robbing Bucky of his hope. The more determined he gets though you know you can’t avoid it any longer.
“Bucky what if he lied about that too?” You try to subdue your fear as best you can, but you know you can’t hide it all. “What if he was dropped off on the island at some point and then came and joined us as the co-pilot-”
No, wait. You do remember seeing him on the plane though. He really was the co-pilot. Still…
“What if he jumped out and got picked up and then sent back to make sure you were dead? What if there are no caves? What if there’s nowhere safe on the island to sit through a stronger hurricane than the one when we crashed here?”
“The mountains on the other side of the island are large and they go on for almost the entire shoreline. Even if he made up his caves, I’m sure there are some. There has to be.” Bucky insists, determination invigorating his voice. “I’ll find us somewhere safe, kitten. I promise.”
“You’ve been promising me somewhere safe since we landed here. I’m starting to think you mean it.” You tease and hope it’s enough to draw a smile after the cloud you just summoned.
Lucky you, it works, and Bucky huffs a small laugh.
“I love you.” He tells you, voice low and soft.
“I love you, too.”
As the two of you stupidly get lost in each other’s eyes, the sudden sound of a voice echoes in the heated air.
You can’t make out what it says, but it’s clear though distant.
Both your faces are overcome with confusion as you continue to stare at each other.
“What was that?” You wonder, and Bucky shakes his head.
The voice is louder this time, still unintelligible but still clear enough to be a voice.
Bucky suddenly bolts up, turning and running down along the beach from where he’d come.
“Bucky?” You hurry up, chasing after him.
He stops suddenly and squints towards the rocks that jut out into the water blocking the side of the island where you have the nets set up.
“What is it?” You gasp, tired from the run to keep up.
“Shh.” Bucky orders and you swallow hard, trying desperately to quiet your breathing.
“Can anyone hear me?” The voice says, deep and easy. “I am looking for a decrepit old man, probably grumpy. Most definitely surly and usually wearing a frown. Long hair. Needs a cut. Worse looking than me.”
From around the rocks comes a boat, a small vessel meant to travel from a larger ship to land. On it is a whole crew of marines. At the bow holding a steel gray megaphone to his lips is a handsome black man, sturdily built wearing a familiar red and gray suit.
“Bucky…” You gasp, your heart nearly seizing as your brain tries to process the fact that there is a boat full of soldiers right offshore.
“Sam?” Bucky whispers, too shocked to speak any louder.
As this Sam spots the two of you, he breaks into a smile and drops the megaphone to slap against his thigh. He’s ecstatic to see Bucky and when he lifts the megaphone back to his mouth, he laughs once.
“You are a pain in my ass, Barnes.” Sam says, smirking at him from the boat as it stops far enough out that it’ll be an easy swim to reach them. “Why am I always looking for you and why can’t you make it easier? I’m putting a chip in your ass as soon as we get back home.”
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The Lost Husband || Chapter 1
Bucky Barnes x reader
» Chapter 1: Home
↣ Summary: Starting again was never easy. Recently widowed, you now have to start this process over in a place you once called home. Staying with an old family friend seemed like the simple solution. Until a blast from the past comes back into your life, stirring up long lost memories. Whether you’re ready for them or not.
↣ Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Humor. Semi-established relationship. A touch of depression. Becca Barnes is alive and well in this. Country AU.
↣ Word Count: 2541
↣ A/N: Phew! The first chapter! We get the mysterious start and a certain grump at the end. Their past is pretty... something. It unfolds when they let it unfold but we love Bucky and his goats, right?? Yes, he does sing to them. It is law.
This is inspired by/loosely based on the movie The Lost Husband on Netflix. Same premises, the plot differs though.
“Ain't no mountain high enough, ain't no valley low enough, ain't no river wide enough—”
The old water tower stood tall. Foreboding. Looming over the small town as you drove into farmland. The real neighborhood of the many homely people that still resided here. Passing it by seemed like no big deal. A sprinkle of sugar on Sunday morning waffles to decorate this town you once called home.
A perfectly humble, faded, light blue house sat in the middle of abandoned acres. Wild foliage covered the expansive land, guarding the house that the owners had long since forgotten. It came and went in your peripherals. Like a small speck of dust floating by.
The long dirt roads gave your bones a familiar ache with each bump the car took on. Pastures that rose and fell were dotted with honest wooden fences along the fields on either side of the road. The perfect forward background to the magnificence of rolling mountains in the far off distance.
A strange homecoming to a place that felt the same but completely different from what you remembered.
“Look, a cow!”
Eyes flickered up to the rearview mirror, offering a fond smile to your daughter, Mia. “Yeah, there’s lots of them out here.”
“Are there cows where we’re going?”
Turning into the shorter drive of the farmhouse that stood the test of time, relief washed over you in a low sigh.
Not too big of land but a farm. Nice and pleasantly placed with its faded white coat of paint. Goats bleating in their pens as your car crawled to a stop just to the side of the neat home.
After such a long drive, it was nice to get out and stretch. “Watch out for the mud, ladybug. You’re gonna get your pants dirty.”
A small warning to Mia who took the advice as friendly voices joined.
“Thought you’d gotten lost.”
Straightening, a smile was casted towards the sly smiling man coming down the stairs. “Good to see you too, Uncle Nick.”
Well, he wasn’t exactly your uncle. But he had been such a close friend to your parents when you did live here as a kid that he might as well be.
“This must be Mia?” He asked, coming over to offer help with your bags.
“Hello,” She smiled brightly, a small hint of shyness tucked in there.
“Thank you again for this. I promise, we won’t be here long. Just until I can figure out our next move.” It felt important to get that across in this moment.
Except, Nick stopped and turned his gaze to you, handing over a bag. “You’re welcome here however long you need.”
The sincerity struck you hard. No words of gratitude came out for now as you watched him shepard Mia inside, following slowly after.
Hospitality was rare to come by for you. The city never offered this kind of thing. Especially after— well. It was just nice to have again.
You were getting better, though. You could join society and be normal but hospitality always was the one to throw you off. The memories it brought up had you lost in thought until an unfamiliar woman was offering a hug.
“I said, it’s nice’ta meet ya.” She offered with a smile. Warm and bright as sunflowers.
Realization dawned over you. “Right. Yes! You’re Aunt May.” Going into the hug again, you did feel bad for missing that intro. “How’s the wedding planning coming along? It’s soon, right?”
“Three months, give or take.” May perked up. “Don’t mind the people comin’ and goin’. They’re just makin’ the final choices for us while we work.”
It was then that you did notice a few people off to the side, moving in boxes of cake pieces to a kitchen island. Why was it feeling like your visit was more of an intrusion? “Are you two sure it’s okay that we—?”
“Don’t start,” Nick began, coming back into the room. “Everything is already set up in the guest rooms for you both.”
You made a face. “If you’re really sure…?”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“What do you think, Mia?” May turned to her as she took everything in like the sponge she was. “Want to help us pick a flavor for the wedding cake? Apparently, we have’ta pick that out now or else.”
With your encouraging smile, she nodded eagerly with May ushering her into the kitchen.
Truth be told, you had forgotten all about Nick and May’s upcoming wedding. The invitation must have gotten lost in all the other bills coming in for the month. “We’ll be here for a few days. Max.”
A stern look was turned your way. The full gaze of strong resilience bore down in a show of fatherly presence. His hands immediately went to his hips to hold your gaze. “I did not offer a place to stay with numbered days. We’re family, got it? Stay as long as ya need.”
After the past two years you had, that sounded like the biggest blessing of all. “I insist on helping around the house then.”
“Good. You can help by takin’ care of the goats tomorrow.”
“Uh, the goats from outside?”
“Where else would they be?” He chuckled. “Just need some help in milkin’ ‘em in time to make the cheese for all the farmer’s markets comin’ up in the fall.”
“Oh, I haven’t done that in years. I dunno if I can help you with that.”
“You won’t be helpin’ me. You’ll be helpin’ our farm hand. Real nice guy. Quiet but here every day.”
Oh great. A stranger. A polite smile was offered instead. “Can’t wait.”
“Good. Now…” His arm wound its way around your shoulders, comforting and carefree, leading you towards the kitchen. “Help me convince May that we cannot have carrot cake. No matter what.”
You grinned, feeling that easy comfort that a loving home usually brought to wandering souls like yourself. “That I can definitely help with.”
The rooster’s crowing vibrated in the back of your head, jolting awareness to the rest of you.
Sitting upright, the sun was up, shining rays through the linen curtains that billowed in the hot late summer breeze. This was the country after all. There was no such thing as closing a window at night unless you wanted people to know you had a home full of secrets behind the glass.
Overall, the foreign environment took your brain a few seconds for your consciousness to catch up with.
White sheets. Worn shiplap walls. Aged dresser and a side table now filled with your belongings.
You were home.
The tempting idea to stay in bed all day, curled up under the covers to wallow in your clouds of despair circulating in your chest, passed by. A key pastime of yours for the last two years.
Flopping back into the bed, it didn’t take much persuasion.
With your eyes drifting close to the incoming breeze, an attempt was made to roll back over. Ready to be swallowed once more by the growing black clouds within the valleys of your heart.
Then the door creaked open and quiet laughter filtered in.
“This her?” The soft, feminine voice that sounded vaguely familiar drifted to your ears.
“Mhm. She likes to stay extra long in bed before getting up.” Mia. You almost forgot. She started school today. And there goes your mother of the year award for the second consecutive year.
“Ready to jump on her?”
Shifting, the covers came off quickly, not wanting the intrusion. “Who are—?” And then you paused. Shock taking over. “Becca?”
The one good thing about coming back had been the solitude. The one downside was everyone knew everyone. So of course, it wouldn't have taken long for word to spread that you were back. And of course, Rebecca Barnes, no, Rebecca Rogers, — your dearest and very oldest friend — would be the first person you see today.
“Nice bed head.” She laughed, bright and blue eyed. Just like you remembered. “Go!” Becca nudged Mia who laughed with a jump to join you on the bed as you yelled.
Becca copied the loud gesture as your arm was held out for a hug. Wrapping it around her, all three of you collapsed onto the bed in fits of laughter bubbling through the air.
The sharp clouds of darkness would have to wait a while longer.
“Oh my God, how have you been? Mia, you remember Auntie Becca, don’t you?” You asked, swiveling your head like a bystander watching tennis.
“Well, I remember you!” Becca chimed in, making a cute face at her then turning to you. “I’m sorry to hear about the house…”
Oh. She knew about the house in the city that you lost after… the incident. When the bills piled up, the more demanding life became. And the less you wanted to try to fix it. Leaving you with one inevitable outcome. No house meant no place to live. Your reason for being here now. “Yeah,” You hesitated with the forced answer. “Yeah, me too.”
You shared a sympathetic look, her smile growing kinder with decades of understanding leaning in to touch her forehead to yours. Something you both did as kids to pass on affirmations on tough days. A silly thing now but… oddly helpful.
“Come on!” She said, climbing up. “I gotta get Aunt May’s goat cheese for the store.”
“How is that going?” You asked, nudging Mia off who happily went to inform everyone that you were indeed alive.
“Ya know, same ole, same ole.” She shrugged. “Goin’ strong since it’s still the only one in this entire town.”
“Weren't they going to get a Walgreens here?” You asked, tugging out of your pajamas with Becca turning around and closing the door for privacy.
“They were. It fell through. Too small of a town.”
“Wow. That same excuse.”
“Yeah, but we’re not complaining. Keeps the town nice and small.”
“This town was anything but small.”
“True.” She said, turning around and making a face. “Are you going to wear that?”
A quick look at the simple jeans, t-shirt and running shoes had you looking up in confusion. “What’s wrong with it?”
“I thought you were farmin’ today, is all.”
At your serious look, she blinked. “Oh, you poor thing. He’s in a mood today. Call me later and I’ll send over some of my stuff you can borrow.”
“What are you talking about?” Your head inclined curiously as she made her way out the door.
Following her, you had both headed for the kitchen. A quaint area filled to the brim with nothing and everything a kitchen could need. Old and new. Now with young and older occupants.
“Morning,” Again, a polite greeting was waved more towards Nick and May than the stranger who had his back impolitely turned to you.
Eyeing the man then looking to everyone else for answers to your unasked questions, you decided to play along since no one else was going to.
“It’s fine, I just heard the rooster—?”
May laughed. “Oh, that thing can’t tell time to save its life.”
“Hasn’t since the day we got him.” Nick finished off, turning your thought into even more confusion.
“Oh! Mia, you and Emma are gonna start the same grade together. Just promise me to look after Grant who…. where is my other child?” Becca wandered off, moving to the back door and sticking her head out. “Grant Joseph Rogers, if you get your jeans muddy before your first day of school starts, you’re not changin’ again!” She yelled after him, making you smile to yourself. Things sure had changed around here.
“Let him have his fun. Hopefully, he’ll wear himself out for his teacher.” May said.
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Him sleepin’ through class this year. Again.” Becca sighed, coming back in. “Well, I better get these children to school so I can get the store open.” She moved in, offering a kiss to May’s cheek. “Want me to take Mia to school with the rest of these heathens?”
You looked up then to the side as your daughter’s persistent hand tugged at your elbow. “Uh… your lunch—?” The rest of the question died in your mouth as you saw her lunch box being nudged towards you across the counter by May.
“Fixed it already. Hope you don’t mind.” She added with a head incline towards you. The polite gesture was appreciated beyond words.
“Thank you, Aunt May.”
She made a gesture with her hands as if it wasn’t a big deal as you turned to Mia to give her a giant hug and kiss. “S’nothing. Bec, don’t forget to tell Steve to stop by later, too. Your mama may be my sister, but she’d haunt me if I didn’t give him that pie I promised. God rest her.” May told a departing Becca and company.
“I’ll tell’m on the way back! Be nice big brother.” She tossed out just as the door closed.
It took you a ridiculously long time to understand what she meant in parting until a wooden chair was scrapped across the floor in a noisy disturbance as the grumpy man in the faded denim wrinkly shirt got up.
You paused as he brushed past to the sink, needing a double take.
“Bucky?” Again, another stupid thing to ask but you had to be sure.
Because that did not look like the Bucky you knew.
“Uh-huh.” He answered abruptly around a mouth full of something, adding his plate to the sink, eyes averted.
This definitely couldn’t be.
Filled in beard. Long hair strands tied back. A shining black and gold left arm that you didn’t remember being there when you left so many years ago. It reflected against a weary face that seemed to give you some sort of subtle understanding to be felt deep within. He just looked… tired. Worn. Like awful things touched his life and it weighed heavy on his shoulders.
When you didn’t answer, dull blue eyes looked up and locked with yours
To your surprise, recognition crossed his face. Memories played out. A history you both had nearly forgotten came rolling back like a sharp thunder clap from a sudden storm forming in the dead of night.
“Hi.” It felt right to say. After five — ten? — years, what else was there?
“Hi.” He spoke softly. The gentle tones poking out around the edges of the grumpy exterior.
And then the rooster was crowing again.
Shifting the world back into drive.
Blinking, you looked away the same moment he did. Your eyes immediately moved to a suspicious duo, watching from the table as they quietly ate their breakfast.
Your mouth opened to say something but Bucky interrupted before anything could be said.
“We’re late.” Out the door he went.
You deflated. So much for small talk.
“We’ll… be back.” An awkward gesture was given before you followed Bucky out the door.
Seeing him around the wooden fence to the goat pens, you sighed heavily.
This was going to be awkward.
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You Are Golden
I am late on Theme Day for @the-ss-horniest-book-club But i had such a lovely idea for my Bridgeton/Regency idea.
Special thanks to @the-wayward-robot, @jobean12-blog and @nano--raptor for helping with ideas :) I love you my dearest friends
Thank you @whimsicalrobots for my divider as always your edits are my life :)
If everyone likes this I may do a part two please let me know if you’d want more from this story.
Parings: Regency Bucky X Renee (Slow Burn)
Warnings: None, Renee is very feisty in this Bucky is kind of a grump Tony also is kind of a jerk lol
"You Are Golden."
Those words still ring Renee's ears after being told by Queen Mother Ramonda and being judged by the royal family Renee felt a sense of honor that she was looked at so well by them.
With her approval that makes Renee "The It Girl Of The Season" which means suitors should be lining up to meet with her and offer to court and escort her to the balls of the season.
Renee frowns looking out the window and eyeing the clock no one has come she sighs.
"Nee I am sure they will be here." Pepper tries to reassure her as Renee isn't sure she looks at her sister-in-law.
"Not if my brother and your husband threatened them they won't." She frowns as Tony strolls in.
"Well look at the time and no suitors I see... How strange indeed." Tony hides his smirk as he sits down as Pepper raises her eyebrows at him as he chuckles.
Jarvis walks in.
"There is a Gentleman for Miss Renee."
Renee quickly stands up excited Tony just eyes Jarvis.
"Mr. Justin Hammer for you Miss Renee."
Renee's smile quickly disappears as she eyes Tony who stands up and shakes Justin's hand.
"Hammer! So good to see you, Renee Mr. Hammer comes from a great family and is well suited for you."
Pepper scuffs as she eyes Tony who is all smiling as he has Justin sit next to Renee on the couch.
"How could you Tony he's old enough to almost be my father why would you... What is wrong with you!" Renee glares at Tony as she paces
"When our mother and father died I became legal guardian of you and I promised them I would ensure you would marry a good man and be well taken care of those boys who would have flooded our home are just boys. Justin Hammer is a man and he will provide for you and take care of you."
Renee glares at Tony as she shakes her head sadly at her brother.
"Then I guess you have my life all figured out for me then don't you big brother? Well, I'm not allowing you to control who I marry or love. I love you Tony you've been a father and brother to me my whole life and I will seek out your opinion and input on any suitor I have but you will not take away my choice and decide for me."
Renee nods at Pepper and walks out to her room.
Tony just dramatically falls into the seat
"Can you believe her? Where did this stubbornness come from?" Pepper snorts eyeing her husband.
"I wonder where indeed."
The first ball of the season would sure to help Renee find her suitor as she stands with her friends.
"So did you have any promising suitors today?" Wanda asks as Renee just sighs as she sips her drink and watches various dances on the dancefloor.
"No Tony hijacked it for sure." Wanda frowns as Natasha waves at them she comes over.
"I was looking everywhere for you two!" Renee hugs her dear friend as Nat sighs out of breath.
"What are we to do all of us looking for a husband." Renee laughs as she sighs her thoughts have been going crazy lately.
"There is more to life just because it's our first season of being of age why must we find a husband anyway?" Nat and Wanda eye her strangely
"Well, it is easier for you Miss "Golden." Renee sighs as Natasha playfully elbow her.
"I'm just saying you also come from a great well-known family Stark."
Renee just nods, "I know but all our lives we've been told what we're meant to be and how to act I don't know maybe there's more for us. Yes, I want to find a husband but only if I deem him the one."
Natasha squeezes her arm as Wanda offers her a smile.
"I know Nee."
Renee goes to grab a drink as she bumps into someone she steps back and looks up at the most beautiful blue eyes she's ever seen.
"My apologies sir." Bucky was annoyed assuming she did it on purpose.
"You ladies will do anything to get my attention right?" Renee offended by him
"I beg your pardon but I didn't mean to bump into you it was an accident," Bucky smirks liking her little spitfire attitude.
"You really don't know who I am?" Renee bites her lip.
"Am I supposed to know who you are?"
"BARNES!" Renee looks over as Sam and Steve rush over to greet him.
Renee steps aside watching the boys all gather around.
"Excuse me it's The Duke Of Romania how could I forget."
Renee's eyes widen.
"The Duke of Romania is it?" Sam and Steve nod to Renee and smile.
"This is Renee Bucky! Tony's sister! Renee! This is Bucky who we always told you stories about." Sam slaps his back laughing.
Renee and Bucky just stare at each other sure she's heard stories of the famous Bucky from Steve and Sam's college days even Tony mentioned him a few times but to see him in person he's not what she was expected.
"I see well I've heard a lot about you, Sam would you mind escorting me for a dance?"
Sam takes her hand as Bucky watches her. Steve forms a smile on his face.
"She'd be perfect for you Buck." Bucky shakes his head.
"No, she would not I would only ruin her. But enough about that tell me about yourself Steve it's been far too long."
Their meeting may not have been straight out of the fairy tale books but the summer was just beginning and my dears The Summer Season always has its stories and romances.
Maybe a Part two? If you all would like :)
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I’m sure you’ve probably been asked this before, have you ever considered writing a Shrek au? If so, what characters would you use?
Haha, here we go:
Bucky has to be our grump swamp dweller because he's that type.
I suppose Nat would be Fiona because they both kick ass and are fiery redheads.
Peter could be donkey because he's humourously annoying and clueless. I guess that would make MJ the dragon but she got the eyes for it.
Steve could be Prince Charming because are we really going to argue about that?
Tony can be Farquaad because he has that short dude, big head energy.
Puss in Boots... I feel like T'Challa is as fast as him and I've already cast Peter. I'm also insanely afraid of him because he fast af.
Dr. Strange as the fairy godmother because it would just look funny. Don't @ me.
And I think that's it! Oh but Vision can be the gingerbread man because I'm just imagining Vision but with that voice.
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ain’t no mountain high
Summary: established relationship, you’re on a mission with bucky and it’s an excuse to write “i’ll fuck you in this car but you have to stay quiet because our comms are on” sex
Warnings: smut, no plot, 18+, penis in vagina, sam doesn’t know what’s going on so i’m not sure if this is non-con voyeurism or ??? don’t have sneaky sex when your friends might hear you, kids.
on a completely different note, thank you to the 200 people who decided my dumb ass was worth following, i love you!
“Alright, you hear us?” Bucky asks, leaning back into the car seat. Worn was the nicest word you could think of to describe it. Some of the stitching had split open on the seats to reveal the mustard filling within, and you poked at it relentlessly, resisting the urge to pull the sponge through the jagged rips.
“Yeah, I got you,” Sam’s voice replied, scratching at his ears, and it always made Bucky smile a little, that technology had advanced so much in his absence but some things stayed the same. “Y/N, you all good?”
“All good, Sam,” you answer, popping your feet up onto the dash and pointedly ignoring Bucky’s raised eyebrows, your own eyes focused straight ahead.
"Perfect," says Sam, and his voice was so casual you would've believed you were having a friendly catch up and not getting ready to infiltrate a dangerous organisation. "And now for tonight's entertainment, the musical stylings of one Marvin Gaye!"
Before Sam could finish clearing his throat, Bucky spoke, voice gruff from disuse. "I swear to God, bird boy, if you start singing right now, I will stab you in your sleep."
"Ooft," you wince. "Don't listen to grumps over here, Sammy, sing to me, I wanna hear you croon."
"Baby, you always got my back," Sam says, laughing. "Leave Barnes and let me love you the way you deserve, I'll sing to you every night." You hear him tapping away at his keyboard, no doubt preparing the hoards of information he would soon be sharing with the both of you.
"Hmm, it's a tempting offer," you reply, tilting your head to look at Bucky in the seat next to you. His hands are gripping the steering wheel despite having parked the car almost half an hour ago. "You are very handsome."
Bucky looks at you, leaning his head against the edge of the seat. His hair is pulled back into a bun but some strands have come loose over the course of the day. You poke his cheek gently, and he smiles, his skin dimpling around your finger. "It's just, Bucky broods so well, Sam, you know I love a good brood."
One of Bucky's hands leaves the steering wheel and reaches for yours, uncurling the fingers you had tucked under your thumb so that your hand cups his cheek.
"A fact you mentioned several times to me before either of you had the balls to admit how you felt to one another," Sam said, and even though you couldn’t see him, you knew exactly which of his shit-eating grins was playing on his face.
"Hey! Don't turn on me now!" you exclaim, dropping your hand from Bucky’s face, at the same time that Bucky says "Is that so?"
“Maybe if you’d have been more polite to me, uh...ever, I’d feel a little more inclined to share, metal man, but as it stands, Y/N and I are tight, she appreciates breakfast, and that’s a big deal for me, so you’re outta luck.”
“That’s what a glass of orange juice in the morning will get you, Buck,” you sass, raising your hand back to his face and scratching lightly against the stubble that ran along his jaw. “Unwavering loyalty.”
“He wavered for a little bit there,” Bucky snorts, catching your hand before you can withdraw it for the second time, and you inhale sharply when he starts brushing soft kisses onto the inside of your wrist.
“I think Barnes is feeling a little bit threatened,” Sam says, and you can feel Bucky smiling against your skin before he leans over in his seat, the quiet groan of the car accompanying his movements.
”I think you just might be right, Sam,” you tease as you move towards Bucky to meet him halfway.
How many hours had you spent like this, lost in each other? You’d assumed, when this first began, that it was going to be ridiculously difficult, and so of course you’d decided you wanted it anyway. You imagined, as you were prone to do, having to chisel away at the impressive walls Bucky had built around himself, you imagined having to bribe him with kisses, and soft touches, but you hadn’t needed to do any of that. There was a day, maybe two, of hesitancy, of uncertainty, and then it was gone. He would spend entire mornings and nights with his face buried in your skin, the crook of your arm, the space between your neck and your shoulder, your soft belly, between your two thighs, anywhere he could burrow into, a lost soldier looking for a new place to call home. And there you were. Home. Fertile land. A body, not a graveyard. Warm, and warm, and warm. Eyes begging him to plant a flag somewhere, declare you his, declare himself found, declare-
His hands grip your waist and you feel yourself being lifted from your seat. It’s awkward, head bumping against the roof of the car, knee hitting into the centre console, lip sore from biting it to refrain from making any sounds, but it all fades as Bucky settles you between his legs on what’s left of the already too-small seat. He pulls you flush against him, resting his chin on your shoulder, and there he goes again, planting himself exactly where he belongs.
“How about we all focus on the mission?” Bucky says lightly, moving your hands to the steering wheel, and it’s still warm from his grip.
“Settle down, Barnes, I just finished reviewing the footage we got from Lang’s suit. You ready?” Sam asks, and his voice changes with the last two words. He’s serious, determined.
“Ready,” Bucky confirms, his hands wandering seemingly aimlessly...until they arrive at your crotch. You let go of the steering wheel, catching his fingers with yours, your head whipping around to face him, panicked. He presses a kiss to your temple noiselessly, before dropping his head to your shoulder once more, his thumbs wrestling their way out from under your tight grip to rub soothingly against the soft skin of the back of your hands. He kisses your neck in apology, and you lean into it, eyes still focused on the street you’ve been surveying for an hour.
“Alright, when you first go in, east entrance, there are two cameras, one in the corner of the right hand side of the ceiling, the second on the left beside the ridiculous framed picture of an animal I’m almost certain does not exist in this world. You’ll have to take out four guards before you get to those, they’re meant to be stationed but towards the end of the day, they start socialisin’-”
“One fell swoop,” Bucky says, voice gruff. “Got it.” You shift against him, thighs clenching the slightest bit at his tone, and it would’ve been subtle, could’ve passed without notice, except that your thighs had squeezed both pairs of hands resting between them.
“That’s right, and that’ll leave Y/N clear to approach the info desk and get friendly with our pal Barney here who has-” there’s a rustle of paper as Sam flips through his research “-three cocker spaniels and a wife who loves the dogs more than she loves him. He builds model boats in his spare time, so he has that going for him, at least.“
“I love a man with hobbies,” you say, and Bucky watches the little mirror on the lowered sun visor as you bat your eyelashes. His hands twitch.
“Barnes has hobbies that don’t include beating people up?” Sam asks.
“Nope,” you reply, lips popping around the letter “p” with enthusiasm.
“Y’all need Jesus,” Sam responds, clicking his tongue. Bucky chuckles, kissing the back of your neck again, and you feel his teeth scrape against your skin.
It’s so warm. It’s been warm, since the two of you had been sitting in the car, windows up, even before the hot breath on exposed skin, layers of tactical mission gear and bodies pressed tightly against each other. You longed to roll the windows down, to take some clothes off, to- you hadn’t realised that your legs had fallen open for Bucky, that you’d been rutting against his palm hungrily until he lifts a hand to your face and turns it to his, tilting his head in question, and how can you say anything other than "take everything you need".
You hold his gaze and nod once, and he closes his eyes for a single second before opening them again. You register vaguely that Sam is still speaking.
“-when to move ahead, I’ll give you the all clear and then you and Y/N can get into the room.”
“Easy,” you manage to say, as Bucky pulls down the zipper of your pants and you feel him smirk against your neck at your choice of expression.
“Easy,” he echoes, and you shiver involuntarily. “How many guards along the third corridor?” You know you should be paying attention to the answer, but between of the two of you, Bucky has always been the one who planned meticulously, you preferred to deal with what you found when you got to it. He was total recall and you were a master manipulator. Your mind flashes briefly to your assignment and his three dogs. Bucky taps your hips and you lift them up. He pushes your pants low enough that you can spread your legs comfortably, swallowing a groan when he looks down to find you’re not wearing any underwear. His hands move between your legs, spreading you open and you can feel how wet you are before he’s even touched you. Your eyes flutter shut in anticipation. The second they do, he moves away.
“Wilson, tell Y/N to keep her eyes on our target,” Bucky says, directly into your ear.
“I don’t know if he’s being serious or not but Y/N, keep your eyes on the damn target for all our sakes,” Sam clucks “What is this, amateur hour?”
“Yeah, baby,” Bucky teases, pet name drawled deliberately. His hand creeps back to your centre when you reopen your eyes with a huff. “Are you an amateur?”
“Sorry,” you ground out, as his finger traced along the outside of your lips. He was so close to where you needed him to be, and your eyes stung as you looked through the windscreen, determined to focus on the task at hand.
“Let’s go over the cameras again,” Bucky says, and Sam acquiesces.
“Two on entry,” he details, and Bucky’s index finger slides through your wet without warning, eyes fixed on your reflection in the visor. You looked straight ahead, watching the same men in t shirts and cargo pants move in the distance as he stroked, moving from above your clit to your dripping hole, teasing around it but never dipping in.
“Two on entry,” Bucky repeats, dragging his finger back to your clit and brushing over it twice.
“Got it,” you breathe, trying to move your hips for more, but the strong metal of his arm wraps around your middle and holds you still against him. You wonder whether you should initiate conversation with Barney (not Barney, the info man - no names, names made things difficult) by mentioning the dogs or the boats. You’re sure he’d have pictures of both at his desk.
“Three when you first enter the second corridor, five more when you turn right.”
“Three when we first enter,” Bucky parrots, his finger revolving slowly around your swollen nub three times. The toes of his boots kick at your feet lightly on either side, spreading your legs further, and you let them, relishing the soft burn in your thighs and the feeling of your pants biting into your legs where they had bunched up. Your hips shoot up, searching for his fingers, and when they meet your flesh, everything is on fire. The heat pools in your belly when his mouth drags against the skin your neck leaving open mouthed kisses. You decide then that it’s a good idea to start with the dogs, everybody loves dogs.
“That’s right, and five more on the right,” Sam repeats.
Bucky speeds up and you strain uselessly against him. You want him to keep going, you want him to move lower, to sink a finger into you, and you can almost feel it, how easily it would slide in, can practically hear the wet sound it would make. But of course, he’d need another, and another, and maybe he’d choose the metal digits this time, and you would pulse around them, so cool inside your wet heat as they curled up in you. On the fourth stroke, a quiet moan escapes you and Bucky lifts his metal hand to your mouth to muffle the sound before you can stop it. Then again, everybody loves dogs, maybe he doesn’t get to talk about his boats that often?
“Alright, we’ve got two, three, and then five,” Bucky recites, ignoring you wriggle against him. You could feel him behind you, his length straining against the confines of his pants, pressing into your lower back.
“Perfect, and then when you enter the main corridor on the third floor, you’ve gotta take down nine cameras and three guards.”
Bucky stills completely, repeating the numbers to Sam, and in your desperation you take advantage of the lack of restraint around your body to try to grind against the polyester of the car seat. He lets you, licking at the exposed skin of your neck and tasting salt. The friction is delicious, but nothing like him, nothing like the delicate patterns he drew on you, slowly bringing you to the edge, knowing that he could make you come undone at any moment. You missed him, as if he hadn’t just been touching you, missed the way he glided his fingers through your folds, missed the way- How much did you know about boats, really?
Bucky drops his hand from your mouth and before you can process it, you’re being lifted again. This time you bend yourself as he pushes you up, your head brushing the roof of the car as you lick the lingering metal taste off of your lips, and then he’s pulling you towards him again, manoeuvring you until you feel his cock at your entrance, and you could cry, but you know that the slightest slip up from you will result in him pulling back, tucking himself away and acting as if he hadn’t started any of this. So you keep your eyes on the glass, noticing the small rings of fog curling around the edges. He caresses your thigh, pleased with your behaviour.
“Y/N, you alright? Bit quieter than usual,” Sam says, as he prepares his next group of facts to convey. You squirm against Bucky who has yet to touch you, eyes still focused ahead.
“Oh you know her,” Bucky says, “She’s just impatient.”
“I’m not impatient,” you snap, and you’re proud when your voice comes out steady. “Just ready. We’ve been working up to this mission for so long.”
“It is going to feel great to finally get in there,” Bucky says, and suddenly you’re curling your toes in your boots as he sits you back down in his lap, your cunt stretching around his cock as he lowers you slowly. This is it. This is how you’ll die, you’re sure of it. “But sometimes the best part is the lead up, stop trying to rush through it.”
“Who knew you were such a romantic,” you grit, fully seated.
“Ooh, the missus doesn’t sound too happy there,” Sam comments absentmindedly as he works.
Bucky’s finger returns to your cunt and resumes its tireless teasing. He buries his face in your neck as you grind down onto him with every stroke.
“I think you’re right there, Sam,” Bucky says, once he’s removed his mouth from your neck. “I don’t think-” you lift yourself up and take your time sinking back down onto his cock, your eyes looking up to meet his in the small mirror, and he stops to gain control over himself before he continues. “-that she’s feeling too appreciated right now.”
“I’m tellin’ you baby, jump ship,” Sam says, and you laugh, grateful for the excuse to make a sound. Bucky thrusts up into you and you lean forward to hold onto the steering wheel.
“Buy me some dinner and I just might consider it,” you say, clenching around Bucky. “Do you see that man?” you ask, and Bucky follows your gaze to the cargo clad pair of legs you’d been watching for the past half hour.
“I see him,” he says, thrusting up into you.
“He’s been walking a little differently since he came back from inside,” you reveal, your hips swinging down to meet his thrusts. “It’s not consistent with a limp.”
“Knives?” he asks, increasing the pressure on your clit, and you lean back against him.
“Definitely knives,” you respond. You can feel the tell-tale sensation building inside you, it moves through you like electricity, sparking and igniting, coiling tightly. You think, for the briefest moment, that at some point you inhaled and forgot the next step, but the thought is fleeting as your hips chase after Bucky’s hand, and he lets it happen, stroking until you’re swallowing your gasps, bucking wildly, and when you come, your mouth is wide open in a silent scream.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and you’re not sure if he’s talking about the man you’ve been watching, or your orgasm. You clench around his cock in response, slumping against his chest, and his arms wrap around your waist, holding you as you come down, breathing as quietly as you can. Go with the dogs, he’ll get excited, and then lead into the boats, he won’t shut up. You close your eyes, and Bucky nuzzles into you.
“I hate to say it but that sounded like some appreciation,” Sam says, breaking the silence, and you can’t help but laugh.
“Wilson, I think you should start singing,” Bucky says, casually, checking the time on his wrist.
“Why?” Sam asks, voice suspicious. You bite your lip as Bucky thrusts once, experimentally.
“I’m feeling inspired,” Bucky states. “I want to show some appreciation to the love of my life, and she’s been known to get a little loud when I appreciate her, I thought you might appreciate the distraction-”
“Bucky!” you yell, smacking his arm, and when you turn to look at him, he looks back innocently.
“I’m ending this call, if you die out there it’s on you,” Sam says.
“Tell Steve he can have my knives but Y/N gets first pick of everything else,” Bucky grins, slipping his cock out of you and tucking it back into his pants. You look at him with a pout and he mouths “later”, kissing your forehead. It’s a promise, that there will be a later. You kiss him softly, leaning forward to pull your own pants back up.
“Both your horny asses gonna die out there and I’ll keep everything for myself, how bout that?” Sam shoots back, and you laugh at his indignant tone, intertwining your fingers with Bucky’s.
“Sammy...we could never leave you...don’t you know...ain’t no mountain high...ain’t no valley low-”
"-Don’t you even start with that-”
“-Ain’t no river wiiiiide enough, baby.”
“I don’t get paid enough for this shit, I swear,” Sam says, and you laugh even harder.
“Ten minutes till go time,” Bucky announces, watching as the last sliver of light disappeared beyond the horizon. The mood splinters. Suddenly, the car feels cold. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you check your phone one final time, shooting off a few messages before you throw it onto the seat.
“You both feeling okay? Feeling ready?” Sam asks, and it’s gentle. Kind. A long silence follows his question. It was different before, for both you and Bucky. Before, neither of you had anything to lose. And now...You can hear Sam’s keyboard again, and then the clacking stops and the familiar sounds of bells and tapping fill your ears, you turn to face Bucky, and he’s smiling down at you.
“Listen, baby,” you and Sam sing. Bucky rolls his eyes, and you know he loves it, that’s just as soothing for him, that he’d never admit it. He pulls you into his chest, holding you there, and you think maybe you’ll plant the flag first, declare him found, yours, home. Maybe you’d do that. Right after this next mission.
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Breakfast with a King, How Romantic. | GIBP II
Pairing: fey!Loki x fem!reader
Chapter Summary: Loki tells his court about your arrival & the two of you have breakfast together.
Word Count: 5.2k
A/N: So this chapter was originally supposed to be longer, but in the midst of finals I only had time to edit about half of it, so here it is! And also, I know I’ve added a bunch of marvel characters to this world, but I promise it’s about it! Hope you enjoy! It makes my day to hear what you think! <3
When Loki awoke a little before dawn, his body felt unnaturally tired but he ignored the feeling and pushed out of bed. It was nothing a little coffee and breakfast wouldn’t cure and he got ready for another day of fending off the vultures that were his council. He stopped for a moment, half dressed, reminding himself to breathe. Walking out of his room as anything other than king would only jeopardize everything he’d been working toward.
Before leaving for the kitchen, he listened for any sound that YN might be awake. The silence reassured him that she wasn’t about to walk out of her room and ruin his entire plan before he had a chance to properly put in place. He didn’t want the council getting wind of her arrival before the pre-dinner drinks tonight.
The hallways were empty at this hour and he was thankful he could mosey over to the kitchen through hooded lids and heavy steps. Loki basked in the silence until laughter burst from the kitchen, letting him know his court was already there. He had been hoping to get something in his stomach before answering all their questions, but they’d beat him here. The thought of going back to bed crossed his mind, but he rarely had all of them in the palace at the same time and knew he had to catch Bucky before his assassin disappeared for the next few days.
Bucky smirked when Loki walked in, “rough night?”
The Dark Elf was in a good mood this morning, the brollochan that shrouded him like dark smoke wafting further away from him than usual. The air around Bucky was cold and dead, but the morning bustle of the cooks and the heat of the kitchen smothered most of it — one of the few reasons they spent more time in here than in any of their offices. Bucky took a bite of his muffin, pale blue eyes assessing then took his booted feet off the table and sat up straighter. Loki had been hoping he’d be able to pretend nothing had happened last night until he’d eaten something, but nothing got past his assassin.
“What happened?” Bucky asked, light-hearted grin gone.
The tone caught his commander’s attention. The angel righted, breaking off her conversation with Gamora to come a little closer. Gamora stayed where she was, a knowing little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She knew exactly what was going on, but she’d be no help to him, choosing to sit back and enjoy the show instead.
Loki’s master of information cocked her head curiously with a kind of calm opposite to the tense energy that radiated from his assassin and commander. He nodded at Wanda and took in a deep breath.
“Can I get myself a coffee before the interrogation begins?” Loki asked.
Nebula raised a brow, tucking in her metallic, indigo wings to let him go by, “that’s already your second this week.”
“Next week I won’t have any,” he grumped, then tried to soften his tone, knowing the coffee and chocolate rations weren’t any more her fault than his own, “I found YN.”
Everyone stopped moving.
“Where is she?” Nebula, never one to be stunned for long, was all business, her mind already going through a million different scenarios.
Loki knew he was about to be scolded so her turned toward the counter to make his coffee, “sleeping in the princess’ room.”
“And you didn’t think to wake any of us?” she snapped, “just because that thing gave us her name doesn’t mean that YN isn’t a threat to us.”
“I’m pretty sure he knows that, Neb,” Bucky chuckled, shooting her a teasing grin that earned him a punch on the arm, “Loki can take of himself…Or at least I hope he can. And anyways, if we’ve never heard of her, she can’t be all that powerful a fey.”
Loki only tensed for a second but he should have known they wouldn’t miss it.
“She is Fey, right?” Wanda asked warily.
Loki turned around slowly, his court’s eyes all on him with an intensity he knew was justified. They’d been trying to find YN for over two moons now and when they’d concocted this fake queen plan, they had always assumed she would be Fey. Convincing the council that Loki had a love he’d been keeping secret for all this time and been near impossible when he’d only had a name to go on. Finding her, only to realize she was human, didn’t make things much easier.
He shook his head.
Wanda bounced her fork up and down off her other thumb, “what is she?”
Gamora answered before Loki could, “human.”
They all whirled to face her. Loki was about to ask her why she hadn’t warned any of them about this if she’d seen what YN was, but she pressed before he had a chance to.
“No I didn’t see it,” she snapped as if she’d read his mind, “I saw her wandering the halls on my way here, and unless she’s an elemental, she looked very much human to me.”
Loki’s heart dropped in his chest.
“You let her roam free?” Nebula shouted incredulously, her wings flaring slightly.
He winced, “technically, I left her in her room.”
Bucky grinned, a look that earned him a deadly stare from Nebula, “you’re off to a great start with your future queen,” he laughed.
“We won’t have a future queen if she’s wandering around the palace and gets caught by the wrong people,” she chided, “is that what you two fangslugs want?”
Bucky tossed her a a bread roll that she caught deftly mid-flight, “between the five of us, I think we can find one human.”
Loki gulped down his scalding coffee and was about to rush out but was hit with a thought before he could make it past the door.
He spun to face his court, “no one approaches her for now. She’s human in a realm full of Fey and a palace full of council members who won’t hesitate to make her life miserable. I don’t want her scaring.”
“Don’t you think a friendly face would help?” Wanda pointed out, sliding the pad of butter to the least friendly face there.
Bucky crossed his arms, a cheeky grin on his face, “I don’t know what you mean? We’re friendly.”
Loki couldn’t help but chuckle, “somehow I doubt a human will find any of you friendly looking.”
“If she walks into the library and finds me,” Maximoff said, grinning along with the rest of them, “there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m just doing my job.”
Loki knew that out of all of them, Wanda’s human-like appearance probably made her the least threatening. He nodded thoughtfully, “Maximoff, do your thing. If she finds you fine, but don’t seek her out. Everyone else, give her space.”
Wanda gave him a thumbs up, “sure. You’d better go find her, Laufeyson. Who knows where this terrified human you’ve brought to our palace has ended up.”
Loki rolled his eyes at Wanda’s sass but knew she was right. He needed to find YN before she did something incredibly stupid.
The halls were quiet this early in the morning, but you did cross several maids as you roamed. Few had looked up as you’d walked past and the ones that did, didn’t let show that there was anything strange with your being here.
You were surprised you’d managed to get some sleep after what had happened last night. The only explanation was that you’d never slept in a bed so comfortable in your life and that it had somehow managed to combat your whirling mind. Once you’d woken up though, you knew there was no point staying in bed. If you could find the Hand before the king found you, then you could be out of here before you had to fulfill your end of the bargain. And that was a gamble you were willing to take.
The pendant was heavy against your chest and you had the sinking feeling that it was colder than it was yesterday. You stopped at an intersection in the corridors, twirling it between your fingers, trying to settle the mix of anger and fear bubbling up inside you. You felt rooted to the floor, lost in a maze of hallways, wearing a stranger’s clothes you’d found last night in a drawer. You didn’t know what you were doing. You wanted Nat at your side. You wanted to know that she was safe and that everything would be okay. You wanted to know that all the time you’d be spending here wouldn’t make everything worse, but you knew all those wishes were in vain. The two of you had barely been managing for too long now, and your luck was bound to run out sometime. You couldn’t help but feel terrified that the sometime was now.
You stopped picking at the skin on your lip, rolled your shoulders back and jut up your chin. It wasn’t much more than the illusion of confidence, but the act made you feel a little better anyways. Worrying and complaining would only set you in the wrong direction. Pick a destination and steer toward it, my little lion. The memory of his voice steadied your heart and you focused on your two choices: find the Hand or pretend to be the future queen of Asgard. No pressure either way, right? You snorted. Right.
“Do you always mutter to yourself?” he asked.
You jumped. You hadn’t even heard him come up and you definitely didn’t realize you’d been talking out-loud. You closed your eyes, not wanting to turn around just yet. Deep down, you knew he’d find you. You’d just hoped it wouldn’t have been this soon.
“Was there anywhere in particular you were planning on going?” the king continued once he realized you weren’t going dignify your muttering with an answer.
“No,” you sighed, “just somewhere that wasn’t with you.”
“Unfortunately for you, the whole point of this thing is for us to be seen together,” he pointed out, “and before someone kicks you out of the palace for not knowing who you are, I would recommend that more people see us together.”
You turned, “stellar plan, king of Asgard. Did you come up with that all on your own?”
He raised a brow.
He stood a few paces in front of you, dressed in a dark tunic, looking fresh as a daisy with his damp hair neatly slicked back. His expression flirted the line between bored and curious as if there was nothing in the world that could faze someone like him — other than maybe his sister trying to steal the throne from him, and even then, he’d been so flippant about it, you didn’t doubt for a second he was used to getting his way all the time. A coward and a spoiled brat. You were going to have to find the Hand before this sham of a coronation, because you weren’t sure how convincing you’d manage to be.
“I did think of it all by myself,” he said, “but it would have been more if effective if it had occurred to you first.”
You crossed your arms, “maybe I wanted to get kicked out.”
“Then why didn’t you leave last night?” he asked, the beginnings of an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips.
“I wanted to sleep in a comfy bed,” you retorted, but even to your ears, you knew it was weak.
You both knew that you had no reason to leave.
Seeming satisfied that he’d won, he said, “you must be hungry.”
You didn’t know why your first instinct was to refuse him, but you knew it was a stupid reaction. Just because you didn’t want anything to do with him didn’t mean that you were going to let yourself starve. Letting him feed you wasn’t letting him win — your pride wasn’t going to get in the way of basic necessities. Your stomach answer before you could anyways.
He nodded at the sound, “there’s a quiet terrace in the city that serves delicious breakfast if you’d like to eat there.”
“In view of a whole bunch of people?” you mocked.
“Very few, actually, and all regular citizens. I didn’t think you’d enjoy being the centre of attention on your first day here, but if you’re up and looking for trouble, we can always go down to the dinning hall and eat with the soldiers,” he replied with a wicked grin.
“That’s fine,” you grumbled. It wasn’t that you didn’t think you could handle the attention. You just didn’t think it was worth the effort.
“Really?” he half turned as he was ready to head there right away, “it’s no trouble.”
You snorted and pushed past him. Then you quickly realized that you had no idea where in the seven hells you were going. Gritting your teeth, you turned around and to find a fully-fledged arrogant smirk on his lips. You tried not to let your anger get the best of you and motioned for him to lead the way even though it killed you to do it. He pursed his lips as if he was trying not to laugh. You forced a long inhale through your nose, ignoring the itchy feeling at the base of your spine.
“We’ll need to get you more clothes,” he said, glancing at your makeshift outfit as he strolled down the hallway, “it wasn’t today’s plan, but seeing as we’ll be near there, we can stop after breakfast.”
You ignored his pointed tone and took note of the way you were going, doing your best to orient yourself in the maze of hallways that all looked the same. The route you were taking didn’t seem the most direct, but did seem more deserted than some of the others you’d walked down. You tried to convince yourself that he wasn’t doing it to confuse you but it was hard to when he’d just finished saying how we should be seen together.
“Am I going to be able to do anything on my own?” you demanded, suddenly realizing that you were going somewhere with him after breakfast.
He stopped and listened, turning in the opposite direction of where you’d been heading as if he was avoiding something. Yet, his voice was casual when he said, “most of the time.”
You were only partly relieved. You were still going to have to go through a slew of theatrics to get the Hand. You were still going to have to pretend to be in love with him. You were still going to have to be queen…You didn’t know why the thoughts were running through your head now even though you’d agreed to them last night. This was real. This was happening. You were going to have to behave like a queen. You were going to have to behave like a woman in lov—
“I think we should set ground rules,” you blurted.
He raised a brow.
“Limits,” you supplied, “you know, boundaries. Respect. Or is that not a thing here?”
“Why don’t we wait until we’re out of the palace to discuss these matters.”
It was phrased as a question, but there was a warning in his voice. You nodded, realizing he had a point. There might not have been anyone around at the moment, but you weren’t going to get caught because of something this stupid. The surprise on his face when you didn’t say anything made you want to call him a whole slew of names. You were smart enough to figure things out and knew how to hold your tongue when you had to — even if you hadn’t done a very good job of it so far around him.
He led you through gates you hadn’t noticed on your break in, heading out the back of the palace. You tried to decipher what part of the city you were walking into, but it was nothing like the port market. Actually, it looked like you’d just stepped into a completely different realm.
The palace was set at the top of a massive valley, with a maze of streets and colourful building sprawling down the jungled mountain sides to a wide river at its base. The streets were made of pale yellow cobblestone that practically growled in the early morning sun, the narrow streets winding dangerously down the hill.
Beautiful, lush vines with orange flowers lined the tops of buildings, their fragrance mingling with the smell of morning dew, and their rooftops made of some kind of metal that reflected the sun and made it look as if the old gods had lit them on fire. The houses and shops were dyed bright purples, yellows, and turquoise and the air crackled with magic, hope and possibilities.
Despite the hour, a number of people were milling about, already up and ready for their day. Most of the citizens were Fey, but there were Dwarves, Elves, a few demons and you were sure, the longer you walked through the streets, that you’d see people from all 9 realms. Most of the nodded their ‘hello’s when they saw him and continued on their way with a bright smile. No one seemed surprised to see the king strolling through their streets. If the streets in Niflheim ever looked like this, it could only have been during a time when Odin wasn’t king. You inhale the warm weather and the peaceful energy of these people, trying not to be angry at them for a decision their king made hundreds of yers ago.
“This is Natalos,” he explained, taking you down a smaller alley, “it’s Asgard’s capitol city and it can only be accessed through the palace. There are a few other cities on the island, but mainly, everyone lives here. The city is naturally protected by the valley walls and the river. Those of us of at the palace guard the only other way in.”
You tried to ignore your surprise. Just because these people had built their city in a way that put their king on the front lines didn’t excuse them for cowering in the first place. In an attempt to conceal your emotions, you asked a different question.
“What was the market I walked into?”
He smirked, “a market. The vendors here trade with outsiders whenever they need supplies but they can do so in a space that keeps their homes and their families far away from possible threats.”
You clenched your jaw, trying and failing to keep your face impassive. He knew there were threats. He’d made all of you outsiders and left you to those threats. You wanted to shake him. You wanted to ask what in the seven hells he’d been thinking during the war, but the peaceful city around you was your answer. Their home was intact and they had the ability to keep it that way with magic — magic far beyond your comprehension. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat and you couldn’t take a deep breath to save your life. You were so far out of your league without your abilities. You’d gotten used to only relying on your human senses, but you couldn’t even trust those here. You tried to tell yourself that this was no different than being in Odin’s palace, but for some reason, it wasn’t working. You could feel yourself panicking and you didn’t know how to stop it.
“For someone who broke into a palace guarded by magic and then preceded to point a dagger at me, you seem awfully worried about a simple breakfast,” he commented, stopping in front of a tiny door.
You didn’t bother with an answer and focused on your breathing, especially that the same dagger he was talking about was tucked into your boot. That particular thought eased your pounding heart. He shrugged and lead the way, bending over in half to fit through the door. There were a few tables in the dimly lit restaurant, all of which were already filled with people and steaming plates of food. A young dwarf who didn’t look past the age of thirty approached with a warm smile for the king. Her long black hair was tied back in a series of intricate braids and she had an apron pulled over her simple shirt and pants.
“You’re here earlier than expected, King Laufeyson,” she said by way of greeting, her voice surprisingly deep, even for a dwarf.
He took her hand gently in his, “my apologies. Something unexpected happened this morning. I hope we haven’t caused you any inconveniences.”
He didn’t look at you, but it wasn’t hard to guess that you were the something that had happened this morning. At least now I had something of a name for him.
“Always so polite our king,” she looked you up and down with a pleased little grin on her face, “come. I’ve prepared the terrace as you asked.”
You followed her out the back door and your breath caught in your throat. You had spent so long living in Flaik that you had almost forgotten what lush jungles were like, their massive trees acting like tent filtering the light through leaves like liquid gold. Everything was such a deep green, with only a few flowers in bloom this time of year. The sight almost brought tears to your eyes. You had been so sure you would never see anything that resembled home ever again and you took in a deep breath as if you could hold a piece of your surroundings inside of you. It wasn’t quite like home, but it was close.
You opened your eyes, not realizing that you’d closed them. He was staring at you, his hands on the back of his chair, his head cocked to the side. You glared at him and sat down. He rolled his eyes and took a seat in front of you.
“I’ll be back with water,” the dwarf said, glancing between the two of you with that same knowing smirk on her face.
“Thank you, Volula,” he murmured, leaning back in his chair as if it was a sofa.
Laufeyson didn’t say anything, staring at you. He was all cheekbones and sharp edges and looked far too pretty for his own good. His eyes, almost glowing green against the jungle, gave away nothing more than faint amusement. You would have said he was bored if you hadn’t been able to feel the energy in the air, drawn tight as if he was a wolf stalking its prey.
“Your population is very diverse,” you said when you couldn’t take the silence any longer.
He shrugged as if the war hadn’t made all the realms wary of one another, and opened his menu,“it just happened that way.”
Your fingers tightened around the fork you had unwittingly started playing with. You forced yourself to let it go gently and place your hands on your lap where he couldn’t see them.
“What about the population where you’re from? he asked, keeping his eyes on the menu.
“We’re not going there,” you warned.
“So I’m not going to know anything about you? Seems like a great plan,” he said, folding his menu shut, “but, as long as it convinces the council, it’s fine with me.”
You held his gaze, daring him to tell you that this wasn’t going to work unless you told him every single detail about your life, but he didn’t push like you thought he would, eventually raising a brow as if it was your turn to say something. It only made you trust him less. Who let a complete stranger — a thief at that — become queen of their realm without knowing a single thing about them? There had to be hundreds of other women who would gladly do it. It didn’t make sense and you hated that you had no idea what he was planning.
Volula came back, a bright smile on her face, “have we decided yet?”
Laufeyson tilted his head, looking to you as if you’d been the one she was talking to. You hadn’t even looked at the menu, but you weren’t about to ask him for advice.
“I’ll take your most popular breakfast,” you answered with a polite smile.
She nodded and turned to the king, “the usual?”
He smiled, “that would be wonderful. Thank you.”
She let you know that she would be back soon with the food and busied off to one of the other tables on the terrace. You searched for the anxiety that was always palpable whenever Odin was around civilians, but there was nothing like that here. Everyone had seen the king walk in, but no one had paid him much attention other than the pleasant smiles as we had walked by. Even the other customers eating on the terrace as well were either focused on their food or their conversations.
“Why are we doing any of this?” you asked, “it’s clear these people are fine with you being their king.”
“Old laws. The council have always had the power to decide who's king. Apparently they know better than their people,” he said.
You couldn’t help but be surprised that he’d show his feelings about his court so obviously, “you might want to keep the disdain out of your voice the next time you see them. They are in charge of your regency.”
“I’ll do my best,” he learned further back in his chair, “especially that the next time I do will be with you.”
You groaned, “tell me that won’t be any time soon.”
“Tonight. Drinks and appetizers before dinner,” he huffed a little laugh, “don’t look too enthusiastic.”
“Because drinks with a bunch of stuffy old men sounds fun,” you retorted.
He tipped forward, letting his chair fall back onto all four legs again, “how do you know they’re old men?”
You sighed, Odin’s council coming to mind, “aren’t they always?”
He chuckled, though you had the impression there was nothing he found funny about the whole situation, “seems they are.”
Volula came back with your food before you could ask him more about the council. She set a steaming bowl of grey mush that had a strangely greenish hue to it in front of Laufeyson and plate filled with scrambled eggs, fruit —- some of which you’d never seen before — a small bread roll and a little bowl filled with a dark purple liquid you couldn’t identify.
“It’s for the bread,” she said with a wink, “enjoy the meal.”
Tentatively, you ripped a small piece off the loaf and dipped it into the liquid. You looked up at Lauefeyson and he nodded encouragingly. You eyed him warily and he rolled his eyes again, digging into his mush. When you finally gained the courage to pop it into your mouth. It was tangy but sweet, an eruption of flavours you couldn’t name, and paired with the airy texture of the bread, it was amazing. It was so good, you dipped your eggs into the sauce just to see what it would be like. You weren’t disappointed. Laufeyson had his head dipped down, eyes focused on his breakfast, but you could see a faint smile on his lips. You wanted to tell him off, but really he hadn’t done anything. And anyways, you were starving.
“You wanted to talk ground rules?” he asked after another few bites.
You nodded and swallowed your bite, “I’m not doing any of this without a few precautions.”
He scraped the last of his putrid look slop from the bowl, “what did you have in mind?”
You hadn’t forgotten his little show last night, and although there wasn’t even the faintest echo of pain, you weren’t interested in going through anything like that ever again.
“You don’t use magic on me,” you warned, “ever.”
He held your gaze, body relaxed when he said, “I wasn’t planning on it.”
If he was lying, his assurance and ease made him damed convincing . Still, it didn’t mean you believed him. You knew he wouldn’t tell you the truth if he was lying so there was no point in dwelling on his answer.
“And no physical affect unless it’s absolutely necessary,” you added, staring him down, “and if possible, I want a heads up before it happens.”
“Romanic,” he chuckled, leaning back into his chair again.
You crossed your arms, “it’s part of my terms.”
“It’s fine,” he said with a little wave of his hand, “anything else?”
“Not for now. But just to be clear, all I have to do is convince them we’re in love, right?” you asked, still trying to wrap your head around the situation. You’d never been in love and you’d never seen the appeal of it, but if you had ever imagined what it would look like, faking it to some foreign king with Nat’s life on the line wasn’t exactly it.
He readjusted the spoon in his bowl, changing it from the right side to the left, “right.”
You shook your head. He was so casual about everything and all you could do was ask as many questions as you could think of to try and kill the sneaking suspicion that this half-baked plan was doomed to fail, “and all this is because your sister wanted the throne.”
“Who’s the rightful heir?” You pushed on, searching his face for more information than his one-worded answers gave you.
His face remained impassive but he took a second to long to answer, “technically she is, but the position fell to me years ago.”
You weren’t going to ask what he meant by years, not wanting to know whether or not he’d been king during the war. If you were going to pretend to love him, you didn’t need another reason to hate him.
“Why not leave it to her if it’s her birthright?”
“Why not keep it?” he countered, tucking his hands into his pockets, “you said it yourself. Everyone’s fine with me being king.”
“That’s not an answer,” you pointed out, observing him closely.
He shrugged and changed the subject, “if you’re done, we’ll head to the seamstress.”
“Great,” you muttered, thought it didn’t escape your notice that his sister was definitely a touchy subject.
He smirked, “again, your enthusiasm is contagious.”
“Excuse me for not being excited about a deal I was blackmailed into by a man who’s name I don’t even know,” you whisper yelled, leaning forward across the table, barely able to control yourself, “right after going through a set of rules to impress a set of snobby old men because of your conniving sister.”
He looked like he was going to say something then stopped and looked out into the jungle. He nodded slowly, took in a long, deep breath and turned back to face you.
“Loki. Lauefeyson,” he extended his hand — a human gesture, “it’s nice to meet you.”
You nodded and stared at his hand. When the silence droned on, he leaned in closer so that we were both hovering above the table, “I will need to know your name, sweetheart.”
“When you do, you’d better use it because you ‘sweetheart’ isn’t convincing anyone,” you grit out.
His lips pulled into a wicked grin, “I think it is, sweetheart.”
“YN,” you snapped, backing off, “YLN.”
He stood from the table, leaning casually on the back of the chair, “are you ready to go, YLN.”
You sighed, “if I have to.”
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pairing: sam wilson x bucky barnes
word count: 628 (blurb)
summary: the one in which sam and bucky attempt to go on vacation
WARNINGS: lots of fluff, banter, mentions of weapons
a/n: i have no thoughts, just crack fic. this is set post-tfatws. very much inspired by "can't even walk through a metal detector".
"You have like three outfits max. Why do you have so many bags?" Sam questioned Bucky, tapping his foot impatiently on the airport's linoleum floors.
"The one I'm holding is hair care products. That suitcase is my clothes, and the other one is.... let's call them essentials," Bucky responded in a matter-of-fact tone.
"What- what do you mean "let's call them essentials"? They either are, or they aren't. I don't want to pay for additional baggage fees."
Bucky blinked thoughtfully at the bag.
"It is essential.”
"Great. So I'll just spend more money on baggage than the actual tickets themselves," Sam grumped.
Bucky cracked a grin at Sam's exasperated expression and shrugged innocently.
They weaved through the crowd of summer travelers and weighed their luggage. Bucky discreetly propped his suitcases up, using his foot to alleviate the weight on the scale. Sam caught on when his rough estimate of the bags didn't match up, but he doesn't mention it until they've steered clear of the baggage area. He pulled Bucky aside and reprimanded him.
"If the plane goes down and we die, it's on you."
"Did you bring your suit," Bucky cut in.
"What suit," Sam said, now irritated and confused.
"The Cap suit."
"No, why would I bring my work stuff on our vacation?"
"Then it's your fault if we die because you could have brought your wings to save us."
Sam stared at Bucky for a moment before deciding that the plane probably won't go down because of some extra pounds, and therefore the dispute wasn't worth missing their flight. He herded Bucky towards the security checkpoint.
"I have to get naked and step through the metal thing because the government doesn't trust me enough.”
"Quit being dramatic. You don't have to get naked; you just have to take off your shoes and your watch."
"But I feel naked without my shoes." He huffed a deep, dramatic sigh before peeling off his combat boots and placing them on the tray on the conveyor belt.
"You first." Bucky eyed Sam's mischievous grin suspiciously but nevertheless trudged into the metal detector frame.
Immediately the detector let out a loud wail in complaint. Bucky turned to stare at Sam, confused as the airline agent stepped towards him and began running a metal rod around Bucky's outline. As the rod remained consistently red, Sam became more and more perplexed. His initial plan of seeing Bucky set off the detector with his arm didn't seem as funny anymore. Sam had only jokingly called him a cyborg, but what if he was entirely made of metal.
"Sir, you're going to have to follow us this way."
"Hold on," Bucky said as he shuffled towards one of the plastic bins on the other side of the conveyor belt.
He reached into the inner lining of his overcoat and produced two knives, casually dropping them into the bin. Leaning over, he pulled two smaller drop point knives out of his pant legs, respectively. Another one was presented from the front pelvic area and inner thigh.
Every TSA agent in a ten feet radius had stopped their tasks to stare in absolute shock at Bucky as he placed the bucket containing knives back on the conveyor belt and moved through the metal detector once again.
"I'm all clear," Bucky sardonically announced to the small crowd that had gathered.
"Sir, your bag couldn't be cleared by TSA," muttered a nervous agent. Bucky groaned irritably as Sam completed the security process behind him without a hitch and appeared behind Bucky.
"It appears that your carry-on bag is full of firearms and various other weapons that don't align with our flight guidelines."
From behind Bucky, Sam let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. "I'll just call Oeznik and ask him to fly us."
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marriage/one night stand/bff: sam wilson, bucky, steve rogers, if you pls?
Why thank you for this AllCaps combo of wildly hot MCU guys to choose from. At first I was like oh no this is impossible how could I ever but you know what it's actually pretty simple.
Marry Sam. This is a no-brainer. Sam will carry me bridal style not just across the threshold but anywhere I like, possibly as far as our honeymoon destination. Extremely kissable face, eyes to die for, like imagine waking up to that every morning, ugh don't get me started. I have been in love with Sam Wilson since the year of our lord 2014 thank god he finally popped the question. Upsides include: Will hold an exceptional speech to me at the wedding. Ceremony on a river raft, insanely good wedding buffet, guaranteed kickass party but we'd still slip away just after midnight and have an extremely satisfying wedding night. Downsides to being married to Captain America include the shield being the worst possible carry-on luggage on flights (like it doesn't fit in the overhead lockers and no we are NOT checking that in only to have it shipped off to the wrong destination, under the seat it is *sigh* - at least all our relatively short trips are courtesy of those angel wings *chinhands*), having to share him with Bucky and constantly worrying when he's off on missions.
BFFs with Bucky. This is either a salt-laden dream or a spiralling nightmare of a friendship. The levels of grump would be through the roof. Unparalleled bitching about the world in general. I would press him for gossip about my least favourite Avengers and he'd oblige because they're his least favourite Avengers, too. We would bond over being bi and play at being progressive but honestly? The gender roles in this friendship are directly imported from 1943. He does all the heavy lifting for me, fixes my car, knows about heat pumps and whatnot. He complains about it the whole time and I pretend to be bothered by the fact that I Don't Know Things. We're both putting on a show and that's OK. But I'm very, very good at baking and the combination of super soldier metabolism and the almost physical memory of hunger during the Depression means he'll inhale anything coming out of the oven and we're square. Downsides include literally having to kick him out of bed when he tries (and succeeds *sobbing*) to fuck my husband. Maybe I'll just have to get over my crippling monogamy to make this work.
This leaves fuck Steve once. First of all, there is no scenario in which I will ever fuck Joe Biden Old Steve so just putting that caveat out there. Ideally I'd fuck CATWS Steve with the fluffy helmet hair and the stealth suit. Just ideally, you know. I'm not actually super attracted to Steve as such but that's a chemistry thing and not an appearance thing. Like I can appreciate that this man is hot. I can also appreciate that he likely has super stamina and can go all night so that's definitely a huge plus seeing as we've only got one shot to make it work. Steve is heavy AF so either I'd have to mostly top him or maybe he could like hold himself up with one arm and put the other one to good use and ok yeah actually that's kind of hot I'm getting into this idea now lmao. I had my doubts about this but sure I'm up for getting dicked down once by no/low refractory period super soldier Steve sure why not, I deserve it.
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Take A Ride With Me
Day 5; Hay Rides
Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader
Warnings; the tiniest bit of angst, FLUFF.
A/n Day five and Sam Wilson is taking you on a hay ride! Y’all I have fallen into a predicament with Mr. Wilson here, I LOVE to write for this man your honor, I love him! I hope you all enjoy this cute, sweet, drabble, happy Readings angels!
Promptober Masterlist / WorldofAUs Main Masterlist
He hadn’t even been gone an hour before you were getting the call.
“She stood me up..”
That’s all it took for you to throw the covers off yours legs, popcorn and movie abandoned as your threw on your comfiest boots and sweater over your leggings and night shirt.
You were grateful the fair Sam hap opted to take his date to was close, you were there within minutes, parked in seconds and scanning the crowd in less.
Your eyes glanced around the somewhat crowded entrance, eyes finding him quickly, he was a few feet from the ticket booth, eyes on his phone, the arrangement of roses and sunflowers held in his hand.
Your hand rubbed at your chest, a pout pulling at your lips as your legs pushed you forward, “I'm coming Sammy,” you murmured under your breath feet carrying you through the clusters of people.
His eyes were meeting yours the second you were close enough, he gave you a horrible attempt at a smile, “oh Sam,” you murmured, arms going around him instantly.
He chuckled softly, letting you pull him into a tight embrace, “what happened this time, this is her second no show,” you questioned pulling back slightly.
He shrugged, “I've been texting her for the past thirty minutes, should have given up after the fifteen-minute mark of her seeing them and not giving a single response but I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, you didn’t have to come,” he adds, noticing your Pjs from earlier before he left.
“Bull I didn’t have to come, Sam I wasn’t going to let you just sulk here, which I knew you would do, now come on let’s go,” you murmured pulling away from him and grabbing ahold of his hand.
“y/n really, let's just go,” he tries though you won’t hear of it, you won’t let his first time enjoying the fair be ruined because a date decided to not show.
“No Sam, now come on, give the nice gentleman our tickets, and let me show you a goodtime,” you grin, “I'd do what the lass says,” the man chimes in, a grin on his lips.
Sam sighs passing the tickets to the man, “you got yourself a keeper there,” the gentleman says just low enough for only Sam to hear, “have fun you two.”
Your pulling Sam along with unrestrained joy past the entrance gates, the pumpkins and various vendors lit up the autumn evening an array of fall colors splattered through the area. Music filled the air as you walked through the leaves, festive beats to get anyone into the spooky mood. You were thrumming in your stride the music flowing through you as you looked around at where to stop first.
Sam couldn’t help but to watch you, you looked so happy to be here, and he was sure he looked anything but, he tugs on your hand pulling you to too a stop, “y/n, we should go home, I look like a grump next to you, I really don’t want to ruin the evening for you, lets just go back home and have that movie night.”
Your shaking your head, hand reaching for the arrangement of flowers from his hand, “so what if you look like a grump, the girl who decided not to show has no idea on the amazing man she’s missing out on,” you murmured. Your hand comes up to cup his cheek, “Sam I don’t need to be home with you watching a movie to have fun, I have fun wherever you are,” you smile, “now come on indulge me a little will you, I might not be the pretty girl you were hoping to enjoy this autumn evening with, but-”
“Hey no, none of that sugar,” he sighs with a shake of his head, “hey look I’m sorry, you’re right, you came all this way for me, we’re going to have some fun, come on sugar.” he smiles arm falling over your shoulder, “what do you recommend first?”
A grin splits your lips as you bring the arrangement of flowers up to your face to breathe in, “you better have your comfiest shoes on Wilson, because we have a few stops to make if I want to make this a memorable one.”
Sam has fun, the most fun he’s ever had, and its thanks to you, but Sam experiences something else, he experiences a warmth in his soul at hearing your laughter drift through the air, feel you tug at his hand in excitement when you see a favorite vendor, and its not till he’s helping you onto the back of the hayride that it hits him. The feeling absolutely blindsiding him, because how could he not have seen, not seen what had been right in front of him this whole time right under his nose. There was a reason none of his dates made it past the first night, the reason so many had ghosted him, and that reason had been you.
The truck roars to life, a pat to the side has it driving off, Sam’s arm once more finding its way onto your shoulder. Your glancing up at him, the warmest smile on your lips, “did you have fun tonight?”
A warm smile tugs at his lips as he tugs you closer, his lips finding their way to your head, “more than you know sugar, much more than you know.”
WorldofAUs Forever Tag-list: @cap-n-stuff-main @bucky-cinnamonroll-barnes @kseniiafirebrace @sideeffectsofyou @pinknerdpanda @thefridgeismybestie @b0nkybarnes @oliviastan17 @dynnealberto @fandom-basurero @lookiamtrying @baddie-barnes @xxloki81xx @fortyninegal @peace-love-hobbitness @xo-spidey @noeaerialist @the-cry-of-youth @liebs82 @connie326 @jbarness @wonderlandfandomkingdom @morganclaire4 @runaway-escape @melimelbean @rebekahdawkins @coffeebooksandfandom
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Choosing Us 28/35
Pairing: Single Dad!Bucky Barnes x Parker!Reader
Warnings: Ahhh, small catty moments. Angst if you squint hard at it. This is nothing like what I normally write. Not even joking. So I mean good luck peaches.
A/N: Heads up, I write more Comic Book Bucky. Not MCU Bucky. Sorry Not Sorry. Oh and this story took on a whole life of it’s own. I’m not even sorry.
You were content with your life. The way your life was. Till you take on the Barnes Twins. Kindergarten’s worst nightmares.
Epic love wasn’t in your cards. Fate didn’t deal you in, this lifetime. Till James, aka Bucky, Barnes sets his sights on you. It’s not right, you can’t. Right?
Love doesn’t have a timeline. There is no set amount of time to tell you what you feel. For the way things progress when you fall in love. Can you get everything you ever wanted with Bucky and his boys, or is it just too fast?
Tag List Is CLOSED!!!
He watches on the monitor, the nanny cam in the boy’s room. He’s dishing up breakfast for them as Y/N attempts to wake them. Already after eight and still not out of bed. She leans down brushing James’ hair back, and like flipping a switch he’s awake.
“Good morning.” She laughs, kissing his cheeks when he sits up in bed. James giggles.
“Morning.” He starts to untangle himself from the blankets. She moves to Grant, who sadly sleeps more like himself. James took after Becca for sure.
“Good morning.” She coos, tugging the blanket away from his face.
“No.” He pouts, rolling away.
“What? No? I think not Mister.” She laughs, tickling his sides. He tries to resist, but bursts into little giggles.
“Morning!” Grant pants. She lets up, straightening up. She claps her hands together, Grant puts his hands up, waiting for her to pull him or pick him up. She attempts to lean all the way down.
“Ow. Nope. No. Stand up big boy and I’ll carry you that way.” She laughs softly.
“You hurt?” James hurries out of bed, looking up at her.
“No.” She grins at him, brushing her fingers through his hair. “I slept funny. Your dad takes up the whole bed.” She smirks, Grant gets to his feet, standing on his bed. She picks him up and waves James out the door. Grant’s head tucked against her shoulder; James is practically skipping out of the room.
“Morning!” James bounces into the kitchen.
“Good morning.” He grins, leaning down to scoop him up. “Hungry?” He grins.
“Mhm.” He nods enthusiastically.
“Of course you are, you’re my child.” He chuckles, taking both plates and James to the table. Y/N slips into a chair, Grant still curled up in her lap. “You hungry, grumps?” Bucky looks over at Grant. He shrugs, not really awake still.
“That’s a shame, Aunt May made you breakfast.” Y/N smirks, sipping from her coffee cup.
“Yeah?” Grant looks up at her, not lifting his head from her shoulder.
“Your dad went and got it.” Her eyes drift to him.
“I did. She even sent donuts for after.” He smirks.
“I eat.” Grant sits up.
“Hop in your seat.” He pats the booster seat in the chair.
“Mm.” Grant looks to be second guessing his choice.
“You can sit in my lap. It’s fine.” Y/N leans in, loudly kissing his cheek. He giggles, nodding.
“Spoiling him, doll.” He chuckles. She winks at him, James is chewing a massive mouth full of bacon.
“James, don’t you put another bite in your mouth.” She warns him not looking up from her coffee cup. James freezes, he starts chewing slower. “You eat like your father, as if someone is going to steal your food away.” She rolls her eyes. Grant nods, putting smaller bites into his own mouth.
“He’s a growing boy.” Bucky shrugs grabbing his own coffee cup.
“Excuses, excuses.” She smirks.
Grant sits content, eating his breakfast in her lap. James is happily eating his food at a slower pace. He sips his coffee watching the little family he has enjoy their morning together. It’s everything he had asked for, for so long. He was a little scared to blink, that it might vanish.
You knock quickly on the hotel room door. You hear the voices on the other side, before it opens. Becca is standing there, with curlers in her hair. You laugh, stepping inside with your own bag.
“You’re here!” Wanda squeals.
“You called. I came running.” You smile, dropping your bag and hanging the dress bag on the closet door.
“Thank you!” She bounces in her seat.
“Okay, what can I do?” You laugh.
“I have this, this, well this.” Wanda shrugs out of the oversized button down she had on. All across her arms and chest are bright red patches, with red bumps.
“Oh.” You wince getting closer to her. “Where did you sleep last night?” You ask, leaning down to inspect.
“Here.” She looks around.
“Okay, it’s either skin irritation or heat rash.” You wince straightening up.
“What’s wrong?” She looks you over.
“Nothing.” You wave her off. “Cold wash clothes, and some aloe lotion should clear you up before the wedding.” You put your hand out to her. “Bathroom.” You pull her up.
“What’s wrong?” She whispers hurrying after you into the bathroom.
“Bobbi, in my bag, lotion, bring it please?” You wonder stepping into the bathroom with Wanda.
“Y/N.” Wanda huffs as she sits down on the edge of the bath tub.
“I got up close and personal with Bucky’s possessive side last night. And he’s not much of a vocal possessive type.” You explain, wetting a wash cloth with cold water. Bobbi steps in, looking from Wanda to you.
“Bucky got possessive, and in a very dirty way.” Wanda grins.
“Wanda.” You snort, ringing out the wash cloth.
“So what hurts?” Wanda wiggles her brows as you place the wash cloth on her skin.
“My hips feel like I was hit by a truck.” You admit.
“Oh la, la.” Bobbi grins.
“Well that was not the only big,” you snort “event of my night.” You shrug, ringing out another was cloth.
“What else?” Wanda perks up.
“Nothing. It’s not the day to talk about me.” You laugh.
“Come on, it’s my wedding day.” She pouts. You sigh, handing over the other wash cloth to place on her chest.
“Bucky told me he loves me.” You blurt out a little quite.
“NO!” Wanda yells, grinning.
“Called it!” Bobbi laughs.
“This is huge!” Wanda is so excited she jumps up.
“What is going on in here?” Becca steps into the open bathroom door.
“Bucky dropped the L word last night!” Wanda claps.
“I knew it!” Becca steps in, pulling you into a hug. “You’re so good for him and the boys.” She laughs.
“Who’s pregnant?” Mary laughs from the doorway.
“Bucky, told Y/N he loves her.” Bobbi smirks. The same cold look falls over Mary and Sophia’s faces. You shake your head, looking at Wanda.
“Why did you need me to come early, and help you?” You wonder.
“Well none of us knew what this was.” She looks down at the wash cloths on her skin.
“Besides you being a teacher.” Bobbi scratches the side of her head.
“And you know practically mom to the boys.” Becca shrugs.
“Besides, you’re our friend.” Wanda smiles.
“You basically just called me the mom friend.” You smirk at them.
“Well.” The three of them shrug.
“Bitches.” You snort.
Everything Peaches 9/3/19
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Part 6: Nice Fingers
Relationship: Bucky / Tony, Bucky & Steve
It all comes to a full circle when Bucky ends up in the workshop with Tony cradling his hand in his.
Now, let's rewind.
What happened was, Bucky, ever confident in his safety inside the tower went about his own way one Friday morning.
You know, the usual:
He woke up with a scowl which blew into a sunny smile when he remembered there is Tony in this grey cloudy world.
Then he checked outside the window, asked Miss Fri what's new with the world, asked her what's new with Tony, how the bots are doing as he picked up a new set of clothes and walked into his bathroom.
Then he showered, brushed his teeth, did the do and stepped in front of the mirror. He admired his own hands which is weird but he's trying to like the things that Tony likes in him. So, there was that.
And that was when everything went bad.
Now, Tony glares at Steve and then at Bucky where he harrumphs and grumbles, "How old are you guys?"
"Clearly I'm older cause it's his stupid idea -,"
"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't know you were checking yourself out in the mirror."
"I JUST FINISHED SHOWER STEVIE. THAT'S WHAT EVERYONE DOES!"
"AND I OPENED THE DOOR JUST LIKE I DO EVERY -"
"NO. YOU DON'T. YOU WANTED TO PRANK ME!"
"WELL I'M SORRY I BROKE YOUR PINKY!"
So loud that the bots scamper away and Tony is palming his face in shame.
"You're damn right you're sorry. You fucking broke my pinky." Bucky grumps.
"It's just a pinky. Tony'll fix it just fine." Steve says for the billionth time that day.
Bucky gives him the dirtiest look. "Fuck you." He spits.
"Alright kids," Tony puts a stop.
"Cap, you're gonna have to leave. I need our murder muffin to be as calm as possible for this and you're not helping."
Steve huffs, "It's not my fault that he's a child -"
"You say that again," Bucky dares, readying for another fight.
Tony pushes him back onto the chair and flicks a finger at Steve. "Out." He orders.
Bucky hears Steve grumble something too indecipherable under his breath to pick it up. "I'm gonna send that video to Sharon!" He yells after him anyway.
"I hate you!" Steve's bellow echoes in his leave.
"Children," Tony smacks his shoulder. "Both of you. And I thought Rhodey and I were worst."
"Whaddaya talking about? Jimmy and you are terrible." Bucky sniffs.
Tony gives him another glare before gathering his left hand and the tools for the job.
Bucky's familiar with this, so he relaxes in his seat and trusts Tony to fiddle with the plates and wires of his metal limb.
"He's lucky it's not my right hand," he says once Tony's slotting the plates back into their places.
Tony's curiosity is limited to a distracted hum and a mumbled, "Why?"
Bucky feels his cheeks warm up but he soldiers on. Three dates and counting, he tells himself. There's no shame in telling Tony about it.
"Because you like it," he says. Tries to play it cool and shrug it off.
But Tony looks up and the way he doesn't look away tells him that his attempt failed. His single quirked eyebrow is a non-verbal "Do I?" which makes Bucky's neck as red as Steve gets under the summer sun.
"You said 'nice fingers', remember?" Now that he's saying it aloud, he feels so ridiculous he wants dig a hole and bury himself 6ft under.
Tony tips his head right and waits. But Bucky has gotten nothing else to say.
The silence collects like winter flurries; a single layer and another and another when Tony inhales and asks;
"Do you really believe that any damage done to your being - fingers or whatever - is going to change the way I feel about you?"
His face is a vision of genuine curiosity. As if he couldn't believe what he had just heard from Bucky and would really like to understand him better.
Bucky, ashamed as he is, ducks his head but manages a gruff, "It won't look the same if it's broken."
Tony's soft snort is the only immediate response. Followed by more silence during which Tony slots the last of those metal plates in, wipes his hand clean and puts his tools away.
Then he taps Bucky's cheek twice until his grumpy boyfriend looks up and he tells him, "When I said 'nice fingers' I genuinely complimented the way they look."
His voice is steady and calm. Not like he's explaining but just having a mild conversation with Bucky.
At the same time, he picks up Bucky's right hand and starts tracing each finger with his index which is very distracting.
"They are. Very aesthetically pleasing," he smirks up at Bucky. Then his smirk flats out and he murmurs, "But they're also a part of you. So, I may have just micro-focused my liking of you onto your fingers."
"Oh, you know," Tony bats off, "I may or may not have meant 'nice you'," he makes a vague circular motion in the air to encompass the entirety of Bucky's frame, "when I said 'nice fingers'."
"Micro-focusing," Tony continues, placing a distracted kiss on Bucky's hand before letting go. "You know how it gets after you've been obsessing over something or someone and you start zeroing in on tiny little things about them?"
Bucky runs those words a few times in his head. Just to make sure.
Tony gets half of his work desk clean in the meantime. And even manages to scold Dum-E for dropping the wrench.
"So you... don't like my fingers?" Bucky asks, face screwed up like he'd just tasted lemon.
Tony gives him a disappointed look, "I like your fingers just fine, sugarplum. I also like you."
Now, Bucky knows he's 100 years old. He also knows that he'd been a big ladies' man when he was younger and stupid-er. Now he's an ex-assassin and a recently appointed spider-terror.
But when he hears those words coming from Tony - and he's pretty sure Tony just admitted to obsessing over Bucky - no matter how he said it, it just splits his mouth so wide from one ear to another that it hurts.
"I like you too, Tony" he tells him. "The-microfocusing-level like."
He thinks he likes the shade of red Tony gets right then.
He also likes Tony's mouth; the way it splutters to form a reply but fails and the way his fingers fidget and oh!
Which reminds Bucky -
He takes Tony's hands and brings them up for a kiss.
"Nice fingers," he winks.
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Chapter 23 Sneak Peek (unedited)
Sometime just before midnight, Darcy awoke to her name being called. Her eyes blearily opened to find Steve crouched in front of her, a careful distance away. He tilted his handsome face, lips curving.
“Hey sleepyhead,” Steve murmured. “C’mon, time to get up.”
Darcy’s eyes were barely slit open as her mind tried to play catch up.
“Hey,” she croaked back at him, sounding very much like an eighty-year-old man. Sitting up in her chair, Darcy stretched her arms above her head, she yawned. Her back arched and she smacked her lips. “Wh’time izit?”
“Time for you to get your beauty sleep, that’s what time it is,” came an amused voice just over Steve’s shoulder.
Darcy’s eyelashes fluttered as her gaze landed on Bucky. The dark-haired man was picking up the popcorn bowls and empty beer bottles. He straightened from his cleaning when he noticed her gaze on him and grinned.
She yawned again, completely unable to stop it. Her eyes watered unintentionally, and she gave Bucky a sleepy blink. “I can help clean up.”
“Nope,” Bucky told her easily and Darcy sat up.
“Better listen to the man, sweetheart,” Steve said around a grin.
She looked between the two of them and knew it would be a hopeless battle. Normally, Darcy would have fought it, but the exhaustion weighing down her limbs was enough to convince her otherwise.
“Fine. But I’m keeping a tally,” she warned and then grunted and pulled herself up to her own two feet.
It took a surprising amount of effort to do so. She may or may not have swayed and wobbled a little as she straightened completely. Steve hovered, arm extended cautiously, despite the fact that he wouldn’t be able to touch her even if she fell.
“I’m fine,” Darcy waved him off and offered instead, “Walk me to my room?”
The corners of Steve’s eyes crinkled happily, making her heart stutter, and he nodded gently. “Of course.”
Darcy’s gaze flicked to the side and landed on Bucky who was studiously going about gathering their mess. She bit her lip. “Both of you?”
In that moment, Darcy was never sure she had ever seen such a beautiful smile on a man’s face as the one that slowly grew on Bucky’s.
“Alright then,” Bucky agreed in a soft voice.
Steve opened the door for them as they reached the deck exit and Darcy tossed him a brilliant, swift smile as she walked through. Bucky was right on her heels. Inside, the Compound was silent, and even though there was a certain level of butterflies swirling about, trapped in her stomach, at the notion of having both men at her side, Darcy couldn’t stop yawning the entire way.
Her flip flops scuffled on the ground and she grumped, “You know, even though I’m all for the protection this spell offers, it’s times like this that I despise it.”
“Why’s that?” Bucky asked with a quirk to his lips.
“Because if it weren’t here, then one of you could have gone all macho and I could have been carried to my damn room like a princess and still been asleep.”
“Careful, Darcy,” Steve rumbled deeply as they ambled along. “I remember a deal you made me back at the safehouse.”
She wracked her brain back to that time and frowned, shaking her head. Steve grinned like a shark. A shark that had just cornered its favorite meal and Darcy was almost scared to breathe.
“You told me then that I could carry you around as much as I ‘damn well pleased’. I haven’t forgotten”
Oh, she thought and thankfully didn’t say aloud. Instead, Darcy mumbled out an unsure, “Did I really say that?”
“Yeah,” Steve nodded slowly, that predatory grin bleeding into something wicked. “You did.”
“I’d like to confer with my lawyers,” Darcy quipped in a teasing manner as they made the last turn down the hallways and her door came into sight.
“I’m afraid it’s too late,” Steve shook his head sadly at her, his voice mocking innocence. “The jury’s already out. Here’s your sentence: the second this spell is gone, don’t plan on having your feet touch the ground for a solid week.”
Reaching her door, she turned and faced the two of them. Biting her lip, Darcy lifted one brow and boldly challenged, “Is that a promise, Muscles?”
“You can tease all you want now,” Steve shrugged lightly, a secret sort of smile playing about his lips. “But I’m serious. I’m going to call in on that deal.”
Beside him, Bucky snorted and gave her a knowing look. “In other words, prepare for some really aggressive affection.”
Instantly, Darcy’s mind flew to the moment she had been laying on Steve’s chest, sated and as the blond put it—pummeled. Blood rushed to the surface of her pale cheeks and Darcy sucked on her teeth.
“Noted,” she grinned at Bucky, entirely avoiding the sharp, knowing look on Steve’s face (like the bastard was fully aware of the direction her mind went).
They fell quiet after that Darcy glanced back at her door. It was only slightly awkward since this is where she’d normally reach for a hug or even a kiss, but instead they were left standing there, casting lingering gazes at one another like junior high kids.
Finally, Darcy jerked her thumb back at the door, “Well, I should probably head in.” Her shoulders hitched up to her ears. “Goodnight.”
“Sleep well, sweetheart,” Steve said with a fond look.
“Sweet dreams,” Bucky added.
Darcy gave them a parting smile and then reached for her door. Slipping inside, she sighed girlishly, giving herself a moment to appreciate the night. Though it had a few bumps, she would consider the date as a whole a total success.
It was only when she got to her dresser to pick out a pair of pajamas that she realized she still had Bucky’s blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Eyes rounding, Darcy ran for her door and wrenched it open, hoping they weren’t too far away.
The hallway was empty and Darcy looked left and right, the soft blanket clutched in her hands. A second later, Bucky appeared alone, a hesitant, almost questioning expression on his face.
Darcy lifted up the blanket. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to run off with it.”
His eyes flicked down to the blanket and then back up to Darcy. Bucky bit down on his bottom lip and then slowly released it.
“Why don’t you hang onto it for me?” He suggested after a moment, offering her a tender kind of smile. It wasn’t as big as the one he had given her up on the roof earlier, but it was warm, like an ember in the pit of her stomach. Bucky’s brows lifted in something akin to hope, “At least until our next date.”
That ember flared into a flame and Darcy hugged the blanket tighter. Her voice was quiet and small and wrapped in a blush, “Okay.”
For a long time, the dark-haired man stared at her from down the hall and she got the feeling he wanted to say something, do something, but instead he merely wished her a soft goodnight.
Back in her room, Darcy carefully spread out the blanket on her bed. Was she planning to sleep curled up under it with a stupidly big smile on her face?
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Did someone say trope-y and cliche? I mean, that’s somewhat intended when the prompt itself is popular kid dates nerdy kid...for @curiousaboutrg. I hope you like it, love!
#10, high school popular kid/nerd au
Tony scowled from under his jacket. Bucky just smiled. “What’re you frownin’ at, sweetheart?”
Tony’s frown deepened. “You know damn well what, Barnes.”
Aw, shit. “Sweetheart,” Bucky tried, tugging Tony’s slight form to his bulk as they cowered under the awning of a thrift store, Bucky’s varsity jacket over Tony’s shoulders like a sore thumb in the grayscale background of the rainy boardwalk. “I know, I’m sorry. I should’ve checked the weather.”
Tony frowned up at him, nose crinkled. “You think that’s what I’m mad about?”
“Well,” Bucky hedged, rubbing his hand over Tony’s stomach absently. Tony wiped at his glasses. “I really should’ve checked the weather, and you’ve been a grump since we’ve been under here--”
Tony rolled his eyes, droplets still clinging to his lashes behind the thick frames of Tony’s bulky--adorable--glasses. “You moron, that’s not it. It’s not your fault, and besides, the weather report is wrong half the time anyway.”
“Okay, then what’s wrong, darlin’?” Bucky pressed his lips to Tony’s temple, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and traces of garlic that still clung to him after passing through the market. “Talk to me.”
“I’m annoyed that our evening is ruined,” Tony mumbled, turning in his arms and burrowing into them, the frames of his glasses bumping Bucky’s generous pecs and his fluffy head of hair tucked under his chin. He peeked back, resting his chin on Bucky’s sternum. “We haven’t gone on a proper date in weeks, Buck.”
Tony was right, they hadn’t gotten to spend time with each other outside of the rest of the football team or the decathlon team with them. And the football team was rowdy, a bunch of guys yelling and cheering, and more often than not, whacking at each other, and while the decathlon team was definitely made up of more people who valued words more than thumps on the back, they were equally chatty.
“Oh, Tony,” Bucky’s heart sank at the disappointed tears in Tony’s eyes. “Sweetheart.” He looked around before tugging Tony into the, at least, warm air inside of the thrift store. “We can still do something together! I like spending time with you more than I like the ferris wheel. Doesn’t matter,” Bucky promised. “What do you think?”
“I like spending time with you too,” Tony mumbled, embarrassed.
“Okay, then. Kiss me?”
Tony’s smile made his heart give an alarming ba-bump. Tony leaned up, like a little kitten waiting for pets, pursing his lips. Bucky laughed, dipping him down and smiling into Tony’s mouth when he giggled.
Bucky pulled Tony back up and turned. “Now, c’mon, let’s see if there’s anything in here.”
“There’s nothing in this dump that I would dare put on my booty-licious body-” Tony started, shrieking when Bucky dumped a poncho over his head. “Bucky!”
“C’mon, princess,” Bucky said, snorting. “Let’s see if there’s anything for me, then.”
Tony sniffed primly. He fingered a leather jacket though, as he breezed through the aisles.
“Somethin’ you like?” Bucky asked, smiling privately when Tony gave him an offended look. “Sweetheart, c’mon.”
Tony glared. “No.”
Bucky sighed. So stubborn, but Bucky liked it. “Alright, doll.”
Tony gave in about ten minutes later when the rain slows to a pitter-patter on the roof, sagging against Bucky’s arm against his waist. “Fine, it’s not a dump,” he grunted, turning away when Bucky can’t help but press an excited kiss to Tony’s cheek. “No,” Tony whined, and then yelped with laughter as Bucky dug his fingers into Tony’s sensitive side. “Bucky!”
“What is it, doll? What do you want?”
“More like what I want on you,” Tony said snidely once Bucky removes his fingers, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “You’re sure?”
“I, uh. There was a leather jacket that I thought would look good?”
“I know what you’re talkin’ about,” Bucky teased, and went back to get it as Tony watched the rain slow from the storefront window. He looks so pretty, Bucky thought as he came back, jacket obediently clutched in his metal hand. The sun shone in Tony’s hair, and he looks enraptured by a group of birds, bobbling their way back down the street. He settled behind him silently, tugging Tony into his arms quietly. “I love you,” he muttered into Tony’s hair. Tony doesn’t say anything, but his hand goes to rest over Bucky’s and squeeze, chest pushing out on a shuddering exhale.
“Put the jacket on, Buckaroo,” Tony said instead, turning away and pressing a butter-soft kiss to Bucky’s cheek.
Jacket on, Bucky gave a slow turn, smirking when Tony looks absolutely enamored. “You like?”
“The team’ll make fun of you,” Tony warned.
Bucky ruffled his hair. “When have I ever cared about what they think?”
When Bucky walked into school the next day, the blinding smile Tony gave him is more than enough to make up for the ribbing the team gives him.
“And that’s how you got the jacket?” Morgan asks dubiously as he tucks her into bed. “‘Cause Daddy liked it?”
Bucky pressed a kiss to her forehead and smooths the covers as he reaches to turn her bedside lamp off. “Morguna, if it was gonna make daddy happy, I would’ve gone and fetched the moon for him. Wearing a leather jacket--a nice one too--didn’t even strike on the radar.”
“Even if the school made fun of you?”
Bucky rolls his eyes and gently pokes Morgan’s eyelid as they droop. “Everyone loved me anyway,” he says confidently. “And your daddy is worth all that, anyway.”
“Okay, papa.” Morgan’s voice is faint as sleep gently tugs her into its arms.
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My 2020 Tumblr Top 10
I did this last year and thought it would be fun to do it again this year. Happy new year, and may 2021 treat us all a little bit better.
1). 220 notes - Mar 8 2020
Gremlins – Bucky/Steve/Reader
This is a new shirt.
Bucky really likes it.
It, too, is gone.
“What the fuck,” Bucky says and flings the not-favorite shirt across the room. It lands with a ‘thud!’
And an “Mm!”
He whips his head around and sees you peeling the shirt off your face. You give it a once-over and then turn a wry smile at him. “At least it’s clean.”
You hand it back and look over the small piles of clothing scattered across the bedroom floor. “What’s going on? Is that shirt still missing?”
“Four shirts,” Bucky grumps and flings the one he’s holding down to the floor. He rests his forehead on your shoulder and sighs. “I don’t know what the hell I did with them.”
He expects comfort, but the way your body tenses is…confusing. At first he thinks he’s heavy or has somehow made you physically uncomfortable, but before he can pull away you rub his shoulders and absolutely every aspect of that motion feels awkward.
And when you say, “I’m sure they’ll turn up eventually,” he knows you’re hiding something. He just doesn’t know what.
2). 167 notes - Jun 19 2020
Life of the Party – Bucky Barnes/Reader
“Don’t relax; we’re not safe yet.”
You don’t even realize it at first; you’re so fucking done with the whole damn day you just roll your eyes and say, “Boy, you’re a real party, huh?”
He freezes in the middle of loading a gun and you gasp when you realize when he just said. Well shit.
“You know,” you chuckle, because what is your life right now, “–I thought we’d be in the middle of pulling off a prank or something. Not, you know, a war zone.”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t…think of it,” he says, then flinches and looks at you, brows creased in worry. Or is that aggravation? No, that looks like worry.
“Cool,” you say and smile at your soulmate. “I have no expectations to live up to. That’s nice.”
The lines in his face soften. He raises one eyebrow. “What expectations do I have to live up to?”
You run your hand over your arm absently, though the words are covered by a jacket. His eyes flick there and linger. “Well, I always thought you were a troublemaker,” you say lightly. “But here you are, saving my life.”
3). 72 notes - Sep 20 2020
Marry Me – [established] Steve Rogers/Reader and [past/future?] Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes
A hand sets on your shoulder and you flinch. “Sorry,” the voice says. He sounds gentle, so you look up with a cautious sense of hope.
You gasp at who it is. “Bucky?”
His smile is pained, but he holds out his hand and helps you up. “I guess Steve told you at least some of it.” He looks back and frowns, then faces you. “I’m sorry but we’ve gotta go.”
“I should call Steve,” you say and pull out your phone.
“No. In fact–” Bucky snatches it from you and tosses it into a nearby garbage bin. You barely get out an offended yelp before he’s dragging you along.
“They’re tracking it,” Bucky says, speeding up. “And they’ll be back soon.”
You get to a motorcycle and Bucky grabs a helmet and holds it out towards you. “I know Steve doesn’t have a lot of reasons to trust me right now, but please. I want to help.”
You take the helmet, because you trust the latter sentence. And it’s not his fault he’s wrong about the former. You think you’re the only one who actually knows why.
4). 67 notes - Jan 5 2020
Dinner Date: Chapter Two – Steve Rogers/Reader
I jolted back from the table as someone– two someones– slid into the empty chairs on our sides. It was just Clint and Natasha, but they looked shockingly normal and well-matched. Clint looked nice, like a normal person and not an absolute disaster, while Natasha seemed mildly dressed down in an obviously well-loved jacket and muted colors.
“Is your hat a polar bear?” I asked, staring at her beanie. It had little ears and everything. “That is so fucking cute.”
“Thanks,” she said and pulled over a menu from the little stand in the center of the table.
Steve cleared his throat. “Natasha. Clint. What are you doing here?”
“Looking into a new lunch place,” Natasha said, not even looking at him. “It’s a free country, Steve.”
“Then maybe you can get your own table, Natasha.”
I had no idea what the hostility was all about but Clint started picking at Steve’s plate, distracting him long enough for Natasha to lean closer to me and say my name. “So you’re making an honest man out of our captain?” she said.
“Oh my god Natasha.” Steve was so red I practically had to smother myself to keep from laughing. “We talked about this!”
“We did,” she agreed easily but angled her body towards me. Something about her face made it easy for me to stop laughing. “You said I couldn’t talk to her while she was on her own. So now you get to be present for it.”
At first I couldn’t fathom what ‘it’ was, until I took in Steve’s face (a mixture of annoyed and concerned), Natasha’s body language (very business-like), what Natasha had said (about making an “honest man” out of Steve), and added it all together.
“Is it shovel-talk time?” I asked in wonder.
5). 62 notes - Jan 28 2020
A Little Pickle – Gabriel/Reader
“I’m just saying– we have to wait for our heroic rescuers anyway, so why not have a little fun in the meantime?”
“Oh no. Full name.”
“Oh yeah full name. However, ‘on the bright side,’ I now have one whole bar of cell service and I’m sending a text out.”
“Don’t you want to wait?”
“No. Oh look, it just went through.”
6). 60 notes - Nov 11 2020
Dinner Date Chapter 12 – Steve Rogers/Reader
He didn’t say anything at first. He turned slightly to wrap both arms around me in a hug. “You’ll always be safe with me,” he murmured and squeezed momentarily. “I can promise that.”
“I believe you. I trust you, so much,” I said. I kissed his shoulder. “Thank you. For staying with me, and not going after him– even though I know you probably wanted to.”
“I did,” he admitted. “But I wanted to make sure you were okay more.”
I took a satisfyingly deep breath. Sleep was pulling hard. “You’re the best.”
“And you’re soft,” he said and gave me a gentle kiss. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”
“I know.” I smiled and let my body relax fully at last. “I trust you.”
7). 58 notes - Dec 22 2020
Supernatural Fic Masterlist
8). 52 notes - May 15 2020
Dinner Date Chapter Seven – Steve Rogers/Reader
“Hello Natasha,” I said to the woman looking intently through my cupboards. I had a bunch of questions: ‘what are you looking for,’ ‘do you think I keep a safe in there,’ ‘your hair looks very bouncy today are you going somewhere nice,’ and, my personal favorite, “How did you get in my apartment?”
“Trade secret,” she said and shook a half-empty box of cereal. Okay, by the sound of it there was a lot less than half. “Do you not have any real food?”
9). 49 notes - Feb 27 2020
Dinner Date Chapter Five – Steve Rogers/Reader
“I’m sorry,” I said, still buried in his shirt. “It was really nice.”
“I’m sorry I fucked it up.”
“You didn’t fuck anything up,” he said, too quickly.
“I did; I just got…overwhelmed, I guess?” I lifted my head for a moment, barely caught a glimpse of his expression, and then immediately shoved my face back in his chest. “That sounds stupid; forget I said anything.”
He shook with quiet laughter and I grumbled, “Shut up or I’ll pinch your tit.”
“Don’t move too fast for me sweetheart,” he said and, damn it, that made me laugh. He cleared his throat and said, “Would it make you feel any better to know you weren’t the only one feeling overwhelmed?”
10). 48 notes - Feb 11 2020
Dinner Date Chapter Four – Steve Rogers/Reader
“What time is it?” I asked, already sinking into a measure of comfort. At last.
“Almost midnight,” Steve said, sitting next to me. He handed me the cow, which was nice, but…
“It’s late,” I said and looked at him. “Do you want to stay tonight?” Wait, that was terrible, I was gross. “You can have the bed, if you want; I can take the cou–”
I didn’t even get up on my elbows before Steve lay down, wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me into him. I snuggled even closer and he flicked off the bedside light.
“You know if you wanted me to stay you could just say so?” he chuckled in the warm dark.
“It seemed rude to assume you’d want to,” I said and shut my eyes. “You’ve been so good to me. I don’t want to…take advantage.”
“I don’t mind,” he said softly, running his hand up and down my back. “I hated being sick. I like being able to help.”
“Mmm.” I started drifting off. “Did you have someone to take care of you?”
“Yeah,” Steve said, a little sadly. “My ma was busy a lot but she always did what she could. Bucky took over the job. He was even stricter than she was.”
“Good,” I said. “You would need someone to browbeat you into bed.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I really did,” he said fondly. “But you couldn’t blame me. God; the home remedies we had…”
“Don’t give me nightmares,” I said without meaning it.
“All right,” he whispered, a smile in his voice. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
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The Rise Of Iron Maiden
Chapter 4: Failure to Launch
Word Count: 2.9k
Originally Requested by: @amateurwriterbigdreamer
Previous Chapter: We’re in the Endgame Now
Next Chapter: The Return Of Iron Maiden
A/N: this chapters kinda slow, but I gotta fill the plot. Next chapters gonna be pretty Tye heavy (mostly from his POV)
“Wrah!” Nebula stood up, putting her hands in a fighting stance.
“You don't need to do that. Because uh... you're just holding position.” Tony mimicked a football goalpost with his hands as she flicked a paper football towards him. “Oh yeah, that was close.”
“I would like to try again.”
You and Tye watched from the front of the ship, both of you previously watching the stars. Both of you are silent, neither of you wanting to talk. You were still too shaken up from the events of nearly last month. Nebula had attempted to fly you back to Earth, but the Milano broke down and now you were floating in space, hopeless.
“Fair game. Good sport. Have fun?” Your dad asked Nebula.
“It was...fun.” She nodded slowly.
“Tye, Y/N, wanna play?” Tony looked over to the two kids.
“I’m good.” Tye mumbled.
“Hey, come on.” Your dad urged. “It’s fun. Right, Nebula?”
“It is fun.” She nodded, face deadpanned. Tye sighed, but eventually joined them.
“Y/N?” Your dad offered.
“Um...I’m tired, I’m gonna go sleep for a little bit.” You give him a small smile as if to say you were okay, before retreating to the back of the ship towards the bedrooms.
You lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. You think about everyone at home, and the frustration of not knowing who was still alive. Were Eduardo, Jaime, Peter, Quill, Drax, Mantis and Doctor Strange still alive? Or did they die? Would they ever come back? Could you bring them back?
Usually Eduardo was there to tell you you were overthinking and to calm you down, but he was gone. He turned to dust in your hands, and you couldn’t do anything about it. You hated it when you couldn’t control something, much like your father. If you couldn’t protect the ones you loved, you felt useless. You felt guilty, believing it was your fault that Eduardo, Jaime and Peter were gone. You were even guilty about the Guardians of the Galaxy, even though you barely knew them.
You looked over at your pile of armor on the floor. You dragged yourself out of bed, sitting against it. You clicked a button on your helmet, and waited for it to light up.
“This thing on?” You ask nobody in particular, then let it scan you. “Alright. Hey mom. Uh...sorry for not listening to dad. Again. I should be down on Earth, I’m sorry I’m worrying you. Dad makes you do that enough already.” You chuckle softly. “Um...it’s day 22, just floating in space. The blue meanie tried to fly us back. You’d like her, she’s very practical. It’s only her, me, dad, and Tye left. He doesn’t talk much-well, not that he did before. He’s pretty broken over Jaime. Peters gone too, poor kid. Aunt Mays gonna kill him. Um...I lost Eduardo. He just...turned into dust. I couldn’t do anything about it...I really miss him, mom. I won’t miss him much longer though, in fact, I might see him in the next...48 hours of oxygen. It won’t last long with four people on here though. I didn’t think I’d die like this, it’s so pathetic.” You scoff and shake your head. “I thought I’d die saving people. I want to die saving people, that’s how I’ve always wanted to go but...nope. I’m gonna die because this piece of junk broke down in the middle of the universe. So uh...I’m gonna go play some paper football with the two grumps and dad. I’m really sorry, mom. All you do is put up with our shit, and tell us when to stop. I should’ve listened this time.” You go to turn it off, quickly saying, “I love you.”
You fall back against the bed, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. The low oxygen levels are already effecting you, which meant your dad and friend were both feeling them too. You wanted to go join them, but you couldn’t move your whole body enough to do so. You lied there, staring at your Iron Maiden suit. The suit you used to save people, but you couldn’t even save yourself. You failed Eduardo. Jaime. Peter. Quill. Drax. Mantis. Doctor Strange. And who knows who else.
You feel yourself being lifted off the ground, and you look up to see Nebula. She was mostly machine, so the lack of oxygen wasn’t effecting her as bad as you. She carried you over to a couch that she had dragged into the control room, facing the window. Your dad was sitting in the middle, Tye beside him. Nebula sat you on his other side, then left.
Tony gathered enough strength to lift his arms, resting them around the two kids’ shoulders and pulling them closer to him. He wanted to comfort them, but he couldn’t speak. You all stared out at the stars, awaiting your deaths.
A bright light pierced your brain, making you cringe as you wake up. You open your eyes and blink until they adjust. You see a woman outside of the ship, looking in. You weakly shake your dads leg, trying to alert him. His hand rests atop of yours to tell you he’s okay, as he slowly sits up a little.
“Who’s that?” Tye mumbles, half asleep.
“Not sure, kid.” Tony replied. You pass out again, not able to hold consciousness. You wake up again when someone shakes you awake, opening your eyes to see your dads best friend, Rhodey.
“Y/N? Hey, think you can stand?” He asked softly. You nod, and he helps you to your feet you lean on him as he walks you down the ramp to outside.
“Is mom...?” You breathe out, still blinking away black spots in your vision.
“Y/N! Tony!” You hear her yell from somewhere, before Rhodey can even open his mouth. “Oh my god! Oh my god!”
Your mom practically crashed into you, holding you tightly to her. You fall into her, not having the strength to stand any longer. Your dad walks by himself over to his two girls, hugging them tightly. Back in space, he truly thought those would be his last moment, so he was eternally grateful that he got to live long enough to hold them both again.
Tye watched the scene from where Natasha was helping him stand, feeling alone. His mother was in a different dimension than him, and Tye felt like she probably didn’t even miss him.
“Nat?” He breathed out.
“What’s up?” She asked, looking down at the exhausted boy.
“You have food that isn’t freeze dried and in a silver bag, right?” He asked.
“Yeah, come on.” She chuckled, helping him walk towards the Compound.
“Don’t you two ever do that again.” Pepper began to cry.
“No promises.” Tony kissed each of his girls on top of the head, as Steve approached you guys. “Couldn’t stop him, Cap.”
“Neither could I.” Steve nodded.
“I lost the kids. Peter. Jaime. Eduardo.” Tony shook his head, guilt washing over him once again.
“Tony, we all lost.”
You’re brought into the compound, each immediately given an IV and some food. You and Tye eat like animals, not having any rations for the past couple of days. You watch a holographic screen listing the heroes that disappeared in the Decimation; Wanda Maximoff, Nick Fury, Jaime Reyes, Bucky Barnes, Peter Quill, Scott Lang, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker, T’Challa, Eduardo Dorado Jr...
“It’s been 23 days since Thanos came to Earth.” Rhodey announced.
“World governments are in pieces. The parts that are still working are trying to take a census. And it looks like he did... he did exactly what he said he was gonna do. Thanos wiped out fifty percent, of all living creatures.” Natasha paced slowly in front of the holographs.
“Where is he?” You ask timidly, still nervous about him.
“We don't know. He just opened a portal and walked through.” Bruce Banner said slowly, trying to not scare the kids even more than they already were.
“What's wrong with him?” Tony asked, motioning to Thor, who was staring into space.
“Oh, he's pissed. He thinks he failed. Which of course he did, but you know there's a lot of that's going around, ain't there?” A talking raccoon spoke up from behind you.
“Honestly, until this exact second, I thought you were a Build-A-Bear.” Your dad pointed at him.
“You’re with him, kid? Really?” The raccoon looked at Tye.
“You know a talking raccoon?” You asked Tye, staring at the raccoon.
“He’s not a-.”
“I’m not a raccoon!” It snapped at you. “Why do you humies keep saying that?”
“We've been hunting Thanos for three weeks now. Deep Space scans, and satellites, and we got nothing. Tony, Y/N, Tye, you fought him.” Steve interrupted.
“Who told you that? I didn't fight him.” Tony scoffed. “No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleecker Street Magician gave away the store. Nearly killed my daughter, and Tye. One hit away from it, in fact. That's what happened. There was no fight.”
“He was unbeatable.” Tye shook his head, and you agreed.
“Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?” Captain America asked.
“Pfft! I saw this coming a few years back. I had a vision. I didn't wanna believe it. Thought I was dreaming.” Tony said.
“Dad, calm down.”
“Tony, I’m gonna need you to focus.”
“And I needed you. As in past tense. That trumps what you need. It's too late buddy. Sorry. You know what I need?” Your dad stood up, slapping things off a table. Everyone winced from the sudden noise. “I need to shave. And I believe I remember telling all youse-“
Tony lunges at Steve, but Rhodey stepped between them and held your dad back.
“Alive and otherwise what we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not-that's what we needed!” Tony yelled at Steve.
“Well, that didn't work out, did it?” Steve kept his composure, only angering your father even more.
“I said, "we'd lose". You said, "We'll do that together too." And guess what, Cap? We lost. And you weren't there. But that's what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We're the Avengers, we're the Avengers. Not the Prevengers.”
“Dad! Stop!” You shout at him, your head spinning.
“You know what, honey? The adults are talking, alright?” Your dad said, with a little more venom than he intended.
“Mr. Stark you made your point just-“ Tye started.
“Nah, nah. Here's my point. You know what?” Tony turned back to glare at Captain America.
“Tony, you’re sick.” Rhodey insisted, trying to get him to sit back down.
“I got nothing for you, Cap! I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar.” Tony slowly walked up to Steve, getting right in his face. You all tensed when Tony ripped his arc reactor out of his chest, smacking it into Steve’s hand. “Here, take this. You find him, and you put that on. You hide.”
“Dad!” You shout when he suddenly falls to the ground.
“Tony!” Steve reached down to help his old friend up.
“I’m fine. I...” Your dad trails off, falling unconsciously to the floor. You try to get up, but Natasha pushes you back down by your shoulders.
“Get him to a room. Call Pepper.” Natasha ordered the men, before turning back to you two. “He’ll be fine, Y/N. Just needs to rest. So do you.”
“Not tired.” You shook your head stubbornly.
“Nebula, Rocket, think you can handle watching them for a moment?” She asked the two aliens, sitting on the wall behind you.
“Yes.” Nebula nodded.
“Sure.” The raccoon, or, Rocket shrugged.
Natasha gave you a reassuring smile before turning to help the other bring your father to a room.
“Sorry about your friend, kid.” Rocket hopped down and rounded the couch you and Tye were on to face him.
“Yeah. Sorry about the others.” Tye nodded, expression not changing at all. Your eyes drifted back to the screen, watching more and more names and pictures appear onscreen.
“Where are you going?” You hear Natasha ask someone.
“To kill Thanos.” The lady that flew you home stated simply as they emerged from the hallway.
“Hey, you know, we usually work as a team here, and between you and I, morale's a little fragile.” Nat mumbled.
“We realize up there is more your territory, but this is our fight too.” Steve nodded.
“You even know where he is?” Rhodey joined them.
“I know people who might.” The lady said, blank faced.
“Don't bother. I can tell you where Thanos is. Thanos spent a long time trying to perfect me. And when he worked, he talked about his great plan. Even disassembled, I wanted to please him. I'd ask "where would we go once his plan was complete?". His answer was always the same: "To the Garden." Nebula stood up, walking over to them.
“That's cute, Thanos has a retirement plan.” Rhodey joked, earning small smiles from you and Tye. He smiled back, glad to bring the two kids joy, even for a moment.
“So where is he?” Steve asked, and the adults walked over to a round table. You and Tye joined them, regaining enough strength to stand. You still leaned on Rhodey, which he happily let you do.
“When Thanos snapped his fingers, Earth became ground zero for a power surge of ridiculously cosmic proportions. No one's ever seen anything like it... Until two days ago.” Rocket showed a hologram of a planet, with a shockwave visibly traversing the surface. “On this planet.”
“Thanos is there.” Nebula added.
“He used the Stones again.” Natasha muttered.
“Hey, hey, hey. We'd be going in short-handed, you know.” Bruce piped up.
“Look, he's still got the stones, so...” Rhodey said.
“So let's get him... Use them to bring everyone back.” The lady told you.
“Just like that?” Tye raises an eyebrow in disapproval.
“Just like like.” Steve nodded.
“Even if there's a small chance that we can undo this... I mean we owe it to everyone who's not in this room to try.” Natasha tried to convince everyone. You looked down, feeling the guilt from letting your friends die in the pit of your stomach.
“If we do this, how do we know it's gonna end any differently than it did before?” Bruce asked.
“Because before, you didn't have me.” The lady crossed her arms.
“Hey, new girl, everyone here is about that superhero life. And if you don't mind my asking, where the hell have you been all this time?” Rhodey put a hand on his hip, making sure to balance so you wouldn’t fall.
“There are a lot of other planets in the universe. And unfortunately, they didn't have you guys.” The lady narrowed her eyes at Rhodey.
Thor walked out of the shadows, towards the lady. They stand in front of each other as if challenging the other. Thor holds out his hand, and Stormbreaker flies into his hand. Then they both grin at each other.
“I like this one.” Thor said.
“Let’s go get this son of a bitch.” You growl.
“Like hell you’re going!” Natasha laughed.
“No way, kids.” Steve shook his head. “Adults only on this one.”
“Would you quit treating us like children?” You glare at them.
“We probably got more punches in on Thanos than all of you combined.” Tye said venomously.
“First of all, not possible.” Natasha said. “Second of all, you are not coming. Tony and Pepper would go into cardiac arrest if you came along.”
You and Tye exchange looks, looking to the floor in compliance.
“Look, we know you’re hurting. But going at him all malnourished and seeking revenge is not the way to do it.” Rhodey told you guys.
“You’ll stay here with Tony and Pepper, okay?” Natasha asked. “Rest. Let us take care of this.”
“...okay.” You sigh.
“Thank you.” She pulled both of you into a hug. You melted into it, Tye tensed up.
You hugged each of the remaining Avengers, even Thor let you hug him, though he didn’t hug back. You and Tye stood and watched at they boarded the now fixed Milano, then watched them take off. You stood there for a little bit after, staring at the dark sky.
“Tye?” You whisper after a long stretch of silence.
“You think they can do it?” You ask
Tye hesitates. You’re scared, he’s scared, and both of you just want even a glimpse of hope. He debates what to tell you, what he truly thought or what he knew you wanted to hear.
You nod slowly, agreeing with him. A single tear falls down your face, dropping onto the paved pathway.
“I miss them, too.” Tye took a shaky breath, fighting his own tear ducts. He never cried, let alone in front of anyone.
“I’m sorry you lost Jaime.” You turn to him. “I know how much he meant to you. Eduardo too.”
“I’m sorry you lost Peter. You guys are as close as Jaime and I are. And I’m sorry you lost Eduardo, too.” Tye quickly blinked away tears.
“Can you believe they’re all gone?” You ask.
“No.” He shook his head. “I wish it could just be a month ago. When we were on that one mission.”
“The one where Jaime and Peter accidentally broke into Scott Lang’s house?” You giggle.
“How do you accidentally break in?” Tye laughed, shaking his head. “They’re truly idiots.”
“But they’re our idiots.” You nod, smiling sadly at the sky.
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Part One: Blood - Teeth b.b (au)
summary: Detective James ‘Bucky’ Buchanan Barnes, 39th Precincts best and New York’s finest - every case handed to Barnes gets solved, but what happens when multiple murders come to Midtown?
pairing: detective!bucky x detective!fem reader
warnings: mentions of blood, open wounds, a lotta blood, violence, sex, drugs, alcohol and a whole lot of cursing.
word count: 2.1k
A/N: hi babeeeys welcome to the first part of Teeth! thank you for waiting for this and i hope y’all enjoy it x
as always, feedback is greatly appreciated, tell me what you thought of this fic!
Blood wasn’t foreign.
Blood was the red that painted the nails of pretty girls and coated the lips of the wicked. It was the red that fueled rage and burst through the seams of open wounds, it flowed through the streets and filled the cups of the sinful.
Blood kept the living alive and the undead fed.
Every living creature on Earth once had some form of blood flowing through their system, swimming through arteries and veins until it meets the heart. Blood defined humans, gave them a category and a type - a place among others.
Blood stained the sheets of the innocent and covered the hands of the ones they loved, it seeped into their skin and burnt itself into their memory - a nightmare brought forward by red roses and red clothing.
Blood kept the world turning, every human entered the world in the exact same way, coated in blood from their mother - some were unfortunate enough to exit in the same manor, coated in blood from a gushing wound and drooling the metallic liquid until their soul left their body.
Some searched for the shallower aspects; pretty green eyes and flowing blonde hair, thoughtful brown eyes and chocolate brown waves - sun kissed skin mixed with a perfect smile. Others searched for the deeper aspects; a warm heart paired with even warmer hands, an admiration for literature mixed with a flare for the dramatics and the love of astrology - some simply searched for someone who would love them.
James Barnes searched for a good cup of coffee and whatever murderer was handed to him.
“Another cupa’ coffee Detective?” Dot batted her eyelashes at the sleep deprived Detective, pristine red nailed fingers gently gripping the handle of the coffee pot. Bucky shook his head, thanking her quietly before and looking back to the newspaper in front of him. Dot shrugged and mumbled that he should shout for her if he needed more coffee.
‘Midtown Murder Mystery: Will it ever end?”
Bucky picked up his half empty coffee mug, swirling the liquid in its ceramic confines as his eyes scanned over the article in front of him.
“Crime in New York isn’t something new or taboo, in fact it’s what helps keep this city turning and our cops in their jobs. However, multiple homicides within a matter of weeks, that is something new and taboo. Will our Law Enforcement Officers be able to control the situation? Are we safe on our beloved New York streets? Will these murders spread across the boroughs, to Queens? Brooklyn? The Bronx? Will they take the ferry across to Staten Island?
“These murders are something this city has never seen before and it’s something that it should never have to see again. I can only pray this cold-hearted and cold-blooded killer gets brought to justice.
“Stay safe on the streets New Yorkers.
- Peter B. Parker.”
Bucky brought the lukewarm coffee mug to his lips and finished the cold coffee off, pushing the newspaper away from himself. “You okay Detective?” Dot asked, carefully placing a hand on his coat covered bicep and squeezing it lightly. Bucky gave her a tight lipped smile and nodded, pulling his wallet out and dropping two ten dollar bills on the table.
“Thanks for the coffee doll, I’ll see you around.”
The October wind pushed itself against Bucky’s body, beating against his chest and pulling at his hair - the wind no longer bothered him, he simple buttoned up his coat and pulled his sunglasses down over his tired eyes. The precinct was a short walk from the Brooklyn Diner on 155 W, 43rd Street. The walk was the same every morning, Barnes would leave two ten dollar bills on his usual table and exit the diner at 7:45am, tugging on his coat and setting his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. He would walk past Benny the homeless man, give him a curt nod and drop two dollars in his half torn Starbucks cup, continuing on his walk until he reached the precinct at 7:55am.
At exactly 7:56am, Detective Sam Wilson meets Barnes outside the precinct with a tired smile and half tied tie. The pair walk into the building together, flash their ID’s at Nakia the receptionist and head into the second elevator, arriving at their floor of the precinct at exactly 8am - ready for their day.
“Morning sunshine!” Sam grinned, nudging Bucky with his shoulder and passing him a steaming hot coffee cup. “Get much sleep?” Bucky pulled off his sunglasses and glared at his partner, he damn well knew Bucky never got much sleep - who needs sleep when there’s homicides to solve?
The pair gave Nakia a smile and showed their ID’s, Sam wishing her a good day and Bucky grumbling something afterwards. “He hopes you have a great day Nakia!” Sam called out, Bucky grabbing his sleeve and tugging Sam into the elevator. It was 7:59am, they were cutting it real close this morning.
“You’re an asshole Wilson.”
“But I’m your asshole.”
Bucky shook his head and stifled a laugh, hard exterior falling for a few moments before the elevator doors pulled open, showing the two Detective’s their home for the next eight working hours. Sam flashed a toothy grin at Sergeant Romanoff and Lieutenant Rogers, leaning into Bucky slightly and whispered that he was sure the two officers were getting freaky together - something Sam mentioned every morning.
“Morning Barnes.” Rogers called out, patting Bucky on the shoulder and sitting himself on the edge of Bucky’s desk, picking up the brain shaped stress ball that sat on top of paperwork from the previous night and squeezing it in his palm. “You heard about the homicide under Brooklyn Bridge? The victim’s wounds match the same MO as the one from Central Park last week and the one by the Rockefeller Center the week before.” Bucky ran a hand over his face and nodded, shuffling the paperwork in front of him.
“Fucking freaks in this city man.” Bucky grunted. “Who the fuck tears someones heart right out their chest?”
“A very bad heart surgeon?” Bucky and Steve both looked across to Y/N, the new Detective grinning from ear to ear as Steve laughed and Bucky shot her a pointed look. “Or y’know, a murderer.” She mumbled afterwards, looking to her computer and pretending something caught her attention.
Detective Y/N Y/L/N was the new kid on the block, the rookie in a precinct full of experienced police officers. She was fresh out of being a beat cop and ready to take on the big leagues, even if that meant sitting opposite and being desk buddies with Detective Grumps - a name Sergeant Romanoff gave him many years ago.
Steve and Bucky continued to chatter between themselves, Sam joining in the conversation after ten or so minutes. Bucky slowly tuned out the others, eyes narrowing in on a report on his computer screen, the bright white page littered with graphic photographs of each victim, annotations around each photograph and a large summary of each murder.
“Martha Robertson is the latest victim.” Y/N pointed out absentmindedly, twiddling a pen between her fingers and smirking as Bucky turned his gaze to her, the look on her face causing a surge of irritation within Bucky’s chest. “Was walking home from a night out at The Flamingo Bar by Brooklyn Bridge but never made it home. Her roommate made a missing persons report after Martha didn’t come home for two days. Found her body behind a dumpster in an alleyway by the bridge.”
“You done your homework huh kid?” Steve teased, nudging Bucky to get him to pay attention to Y/N. The young detective shrugged nonchalantly.
“There’s only a handful of motives for murder: money, sex and revenge. Not exclusively in that order.” Steve nodded in agreement. “Then there’s the small percentage of sociopath personalities that kill for the hell of it, just because they can. They’re the most dangerous.”
Bucky slammed his coffee cup on the desk, startling Steve and Sam but not bothering Y/N. “How d’ya know so much Rookie? You the killer?” Steve growled at Bucky, scolding him for being so harsh towards the new kid.
Y/N sat back in her chair, pen still twirling between her fingers and a smug smile on her cherry lips. “Did my homework Old Man, even dug around a bit and found some pretty interesting stuff.” The young Detective clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “What have you done for the investigation?” Bucky’s nostrils flared, body rising from his seat and barging past Steve to Y/N’s side of the desk set up, the younger Detective standing up to match Barnes.
“You found the killer Barnes? Or you waiting for another pretty girl to be slaughtered before you do something about it?”
“Y’know what kid?” Bucky seethed, teeth bared and chest heaving as he squared up to Y/N, nose nearly grazing hers and breath fanning on her lips. “You don’t know shit. You hear me? You been here all of five minutes and think you’re some big hot shot because you solved a petty crime in Harlem?”
Steve stepped towards Bucky, placing a calming hand on his shoulder, which was quickly shrugged off by the angry Detective. “Buck, that’s enough. Leave the kid alone.”
“You ain’t shit kid.” Bucky continued. Y/N held her ground, the entire precinct coming to a stand still and watching the altercation. “You’re just some glorified beat cop, nothing special about you. So I suggest you sit your ass down and shut your goddamn mouth.”
Bucky stepped back slightly, face no longer centimeters away from Y/N’s. He huffed, sweat on his brow and eyes tinged red as he watched Y/N carefully.
“I guess you’re right Old Man.” Y/N shrugged, tucking her left hand into the pocket of her pants and still twiddling the pen in her right. “I’m just a Rookie. A glorified beat cop if you will. But I’m still the kid who found out more about your case in thirty minutes than you have in six weeks.” Y/N smiled sweetly, pressing the pen in her right hand against his chest. “If you ever talk to me like this again, I’ll burn you to the ground. Got it?”
“You little -” Bucky surged forward, face once again dangerously close to Y/N’s before Steve and Sam wrenched him back by his arms, the pair locking Bucky’s arms in their own and pulling him towards the Captain’s office. “Get the fuck off me Rogers, she has it coming!” Bucky’s yells echoed throughout the precinct followed by a door slamming.
Y/N let out a laugh, running a hand through her hair and plopping back down onto her seat. She looked up from her desk at the rest of the room, everyone still standing stunned, mouths practically hanging open.
“What? You guys never seen a girl stick up for herself?” Wanda - the other former new kid - shook her head, looking at everyone else who still stood quietly.
“Not to Barnes. He’s the best around here.” Y/N shrugged, tapping her desk playfully.
“Well he better get down off his high horse, there’s a lot to play for here.”
Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated groan pushing its way through his gritted teeth. “You’re reckless Barnes.” Stark - The Captain - scolded, arms crossed over his chest and feet kicked up onto his desk, ankles cross. “You’re one of the best, if not the best Detective in this damn precinct and you’re so goddamn careless and reckless that it’s starting to build a case against you.”
“A case against me?” Bucky laughed dryly, looking behind him to Steve who was guarding the door. The blond gave him a shrug and a nod of agreement, everybody knew how careless Barnes had become recently. “You’ve got to be kidding me Stark.”
Tony shook his head sadly. “No jokes here Barnes. You’ve become reckless since -”
“Do not say her name.” Bucky warned, temper flaring once again. Tony raised his hands in defense and nodded carefully.
“Since the accident. You need to get your head back in the game.” Bucky scoffed. “I’ve spoken to Wilson and Maximoff and we have decided that you are now being paired with Y/L/N on the Midtown Murders case. Wilson and Maximoff will be partnered until you learn to be more careful.” Bucky shot out of his seat, hands slamming onto Tony’s desk, rage burning in his tired eyes.
“You’re a jackass Stark. A huge fucking jackass.”
And with that, Bucky left.
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