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milliedazzledust · 3 years

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Somewhere Only We Know (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request: @the-craziestone story about Bucky x Reader, where Bucky is really obsessed with Reader - But not in a creepy way, more like he's really really in love with her and he can only see her, like she's his world Anon: can you do something with reader gifting Bucky Barnes the 3 Lord of the Rings books? They were published after WWII, and reader knows he liked The Hobbit so she thinks it's something he'd like

Words: 2943

A/N: this is pure fluff with no warning, also I changed a tiny bit the second request to fit the story - enjoy ;)

He couldn’t explain the sadness he constantly felt every time he was walking through the streets of the city he used to know by heart. A stranger in a strange land was the best way to describe him. More than seventy years had passed, and he hadn’t witnessed any changes. While he had been a puppet deprived of freewill and controlled with the sole purpose of killing, he had missed the birth of a whole new world. Now, as he strode around the streets, he could easily remember each of their names, but none of them were familiar. His mind remained in the 1940’s and in the middle of the noises, surrounded by the sound of first responders vehicles, the children running around and cars piling up on the road, he was a stranger in his own home. It was an unsettling feeling, a pining melancholy that reminded him in every step he made that his Brooklyn didn’t exist anymore.

He was furious in a way, but mostly confused. Haunted by memories he had gotten back a second ago, and they didn’t fit this new reality. He wasn’t even nostalgic, but the loneliness was getting heavier every day. He could still picture the park he used to take his sister, the alley where Steve had gotten beaten up one day, the bakery his mother used to go to every morning. Treasure of souvenirs he would keep forever. And although the park, the alley and the streets names were still here, he was left alone walking down Brooklyn.

“Hey, Y/N!” He heard a voice shouting. “Where do I put those ?”

His head mechanically turned to a young boy carrying a heavy box of what looked like antics. Without thinking he crossed the road and when his eyes laid on the small shop, he gasped. There it was, one small piece of his past still here. It was an old bookstore he used to go to with his sister. The man, a friend, an immigrant from France with a thick accent, would let them stay for hours. Bucky loved reading to Rebecca. They would sit inside and she’d insist to hear The Hobbit. François, the man owning the store, would make coffee and stay with them, relating the stories he had heard around the world, telling them all about the France he had known. It was all still here. ‘Au Nom de la Rose’ was still here.

He didn’t hesitate a second and rushed inside the place, an honest smile on his face. His eyes roamed over the room and he took a deep breath. It was just like he remembered, a place filled with murmurs and whispers floating above his head and through the roof, indistinct conversations between friends, huge windows bringing in a powerful light at this hour of the day, plants in almost every corner. Even the atmosphere was the same, this powerful smell of imagination coming from the laying books on the shelves, begging to be read, mixing with a distinct smell coming from the dust. The small couch and the old table he used to sit by with his sister were also there. The wooden pieces had many rough and sharp edges but looked just as smooth and clean as he remembered. Finally, his eyes landed on a woman there. He watched her rearranging a bouquet of daffodils, breathing in the perfume of the vibrant flowers as she tended to them meticulously.

For some reason, he couldn’t look away. She felt familiar, like he had known her all his life, yet he had never seen her before. When she turned around he took an instinctive step toward her. She noticed, raised her head and that was the moment their eyes met. His breath caught in his throat when she smiled at him. He stood, frozen on the spot, staring at her. He couldn’t comprehend that instant connection. There was an inexplicable sense of excitement yet weird feeling that they had known each other forever, that they were meeting each other again after a long journey. He was transfixed, almost stuck by the confusing mixture of emotions but oddly comforted by them - all at the same time.

“Can I help you ?” She asked him.

He surprised himself thinking there was something eerily calming about her voice, that he could listen to her for hours.

“Do I know you ?” He quickly wondered out loud, mentally facepalming himself for his lack of tact.

“Shouldn’t I be asking that question ?”

“Why ?”

“You’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes” She grinned.

“I’m … I’m sorry” He apologized profusely. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Look weird ?”

He could swear his heart skipped a beat when he heard her laugh.

“This place is beautiful”

“Thank you”

“How long have you been working here ?”

“Forever” She smirked. “The store belongs to my family. Passed on from generation to generation”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“You’re related to François Y/L/N ?” He questioned.

She tilted her head, crossing her arms.

“Now I’m intrigued” She told him. “How do you know about my grandfather ?”

“We’ve met,” He answered without thinking. He rapidly realized his mistake when she narrowed her eyes in utter curiosity. “I … I didn’t mean … I mean … It was … It was a long time ago”

He gulped, hoping she wouldn’t push it. She looked him up and down, assessing him.

“What’s your name, weirdo ?” She inquired, giving him a skeptical glance.

“Bucky. M’am”

She smirked.

“Let me guess, a soldier ?”

“How … ?”

“You all have the same manners, and the same eyes”

“What do you mean ?”

She was now standing in front of him, staring at his face with the most adorable smile he had ever seen.

“You carry the same sadness and the horror you’ve seen” She replied honestly. “My father was a lot like that too”

Her answer had the effect of a punch in the gut he hadn’t been expecting. He felt naked under her gaze, a stranger with the power to see through his soul.

“I’m Y/N” She introduced herself, raising her hand to shake his.

It was rare for him to smile truthfully but the unexpected bliss slowly growing made his lips twitch before he could even acknowledge it.

“Hi, Y/N” He greeted her.

She chuckled, amused.

“Hi, Bucky” She murmured.

After that encounter, he made a point of coming back as much as he could. He stayed for hours sitting on the couch, reading the same book over and over again. They shared quick words but he didn’t dare to start up a conversation, too afraid he would say something he shouldn’t, something that would scare her away. He was content like this. There was no Winter Soldier, no war, no fight, no one else than Bucky. Being next to this girl was in itself a medication for him. It made no sense but she was so bright and radiant. Like a magnet, he was sucked into an invisible gravitational pull toward her.

By the second week of him coming into the store, she started to notice the small marks of attention. He would come so silently she wouldn’t hear a thing, bringing a fresh cup of coffee he would lay on her counter when she wasn’t looking, replacing the daffodils before they could fade, carrying the heavy boxes filled with new books. When she wasn’t working, she would grab something to read and sit next to him. They would exchange a smile but wouldn’t talk. The proximity was enough. Their presence was louder than any word. A quiet routine they were slowly creating.

By the fourth month, nothing had changed and that day was no different. Rain was pouring outside and the store was empty, except for Y/N and Bucky. Just as usual, he was reading in a corner while she was working. New stacks of books had arrived and she was methodically putting them on the shelves. Standing on a ladder, on the tip of her toes, she was so focused on the task she had failed to notice the soldier walking up to her.

“Do you need any help ?” He offered.

Surprised to hear his voice so close to her, she lost her balance and slipped. She yelped as her ankle hit one side of the ladder and automatically closed her eyes, anticipating the fall. She tried to brace herself but before her body could touch the ground she felt something cold holding her waist. Suddenly, instead of laying on the floor, she was against his hard chest, in a protective embrace. She recognized his arms around her and shivered at the odd coldness. He felt it immediately and was quick to put some distance between them, making sure his metal arm was no more on her body and only his human hand was steadying her.

“Are you alright ?” He questioned. She pursed her lips, trying not to show that she was hurt when she heard how worried he sounded.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m fine”

He looked skeptic but didn’t say anything about it.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” He apologetically told her.

He took the books scattered on the ground, putting them away, and helped her walk to the couch.

“You know, if the goal was to literally make me fall for you, I’d say you did a pretty good job there” She flirted, making him chuckle.

He sat on the table in front of her and grabbed her calve, gently laying her leg on his thigh to assess the damage. From the corner of his eyes, he could see her blushing. It made him insanely happy to know he wasn’t the only one affected by their closeness. They tried not to look at one another, too embarrassed by the situation. This was the closest they had ever been and the touch on his skin on hers was more than enough to make her heart ready to jump out of her chest. When he clasped her injured ankle, she cried and instinctively pushed him back.

“Fine, huh ?” He repeated her own words with a smirk.

She huffed and rolled her eyes.

“It’s not a big deal, Bucky” She reassured him. “I’ve got to get back to work”

“You’re not moving from this couch” He ordered.

“Is that an order, soldier ?” She ironically threw at him, crossing her arms in annoyance.

“You bet it is”

She watched him, intrigued, as he stood up and piled up some books on the table to put her ankle to rest on it.

“No moving around, got it ?” He made sure she would follow his advice.

“Aye, aye, Captain”

He chuckled

“Technically speaking, I’m not a Captain” He confessed as he continued what she had been doing earlier and started putting the books carefully on the right shelves.

“Would you have preferred Sergeant ?” She replied, bitting her lips, unsure this was the wrong moment to admit she knew who he was.

He instantly stopped what he was doing and slowly turned around to stare at her.

“What did you say ?” He asked, more scared than ever.

Up until that moment, he had avoided telling her who he was. Becoming part of the Avengers meant his identity wasn’t a secret anymore, and although he had done a terrific job staying hidden among the mass of people, it wouldn’t have taken more than a little push to find who he really was. He stood in front of her, frozen, not having a clue how to react.

“Sergeant Barnes, isn’t it ?” She sounded nervous, almost frightened to say his name out loud.

“I… “ He tried to say anything, but as the rain kept pouring outside, slowly turning into a thunderstorm, he blankly stared back.

“Would you have told me ?” She whispered.

“Eventually”

She humorlessly snorted.

“We’ve known each other for more than three months, Bucky. I see you practically every day. Be honest, eventually would’ve never come”

“It’s not like that” He tried to explain.

“I’m not mad, don’t worry” She sadly smiled. “I just wish… I guess I wish you could’ve trust me”

He rubbed his jaw in frustration and made a step toward her. Without breaking his gaze, he slowly took the glove off, revealing his metal hand. Still, he didn’t look at her, too afraid of her reaction. The cold metal had never felt so hot against his skin, a burning reminder of the stranger he had become.

“I didn’t want you to be scared,” He admitted in a broken voice.

“Of you ?” She was surprised. “Why would I be ?”

“I’m not a good man, Y/N”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that ?”

“You don’t understand…”

“The red box under the counter” She interrupted him. “Can you take it for me ? And turn the sign of the shop, we’re closed.”

He gave her a puzzled look, but did as she said anyway. He locked the front door and took the box she asked for before walking to her and putting it directly in her hands.

“Sit” She instructed him.

He didn’t dare to stay near her and chose to stay on an opposite chair.

“I found this a little after you and I met” She told him, motioning to the box. “It was in the basement, hidden under old junks my parents had kept over the years”

He let her speak, not understanding where this was going or why she was telling him about that. She slowly opened the mystery box and took a small envelope out of it. It looked old, so old the paper had turned into a deep shade of yellow.

“My grandfather wrote this” She confessed. “In 1957. It’s addressed to Bucky and Rebecca Barnes. I believe it belongs to you”

She handed him the letter that he took with shaky hands.

“How did you… ?” He started to ask.

“It was a long shot,” She explained. “The first time you were here, you said my grandfather's name like it meant something to you. Like you really knew him. When I found the box, and the envelope, I didn’t make the connection with you right away. But your name was all I needed to start my research. My parents kept pretty much everything so it didn’t took me too long to find an old photo with you and him, back in the 1930′s”

He wasn’t moving at all when she showed him a picture François had taken of them right before he was enlisted.

“I wanted to wait for the right time to tell you, I guess. I mean, you have enough ghosts as it is”

“Still not scared ?” He inquired in a humorless chuckle.

“Not one bit” She didn’t hesitate to reply.

She softly smiled and motioned for him to come closer. When he sat next to her, she moved the box from her lap to his.

“We were friends, François and I” He recalled, his eyes glued on the letter. “He was married to Eloise. This bookstore was their treasure. He kept repeating that I shouldn’t go to war when I could stay hidden under the pages of books that would take me around the world without risking my life”

She took his metal palm between her fingers when she heard his voice breaking. He almost tried to remove it but she tightly entwined their hands together.

“Maybe he was right” He muttered under his breath.

“Or maybe you and I were meant to meet almost a century later” She shrugged.

He snorted before turning around the envelope to open it. Y/N gently laid her head against his shoulder and let him read in silence. She didn’t move when she felt his body shaking with tears but only held his hand harder.

“They’re originals, from 1954 I think. He kept them for you” She told him as he slowly took what was in the red box. A set of three old books. “Why Lord of the Rings, though ?”

He laughed,sniffing, before brushing the tears off his face and staring down at the woman. At that very moment, he felt like the journey was done. His soul had stopped the search it had been on for a time that felt like forever. Like a century.

“My sister and I, we used to come here often,” He said in a melancholic grin. Sorrow was finally starting to be replace by something much better, happiness. “We would sit on this very couch and she would make me read the Hobbit. She used to love that story so much.”

“How many times has she make you read it ?” The woman smirked.

“Enough to remember every single word” He exaggerated, making her giggle. “When I told François I was leaving, he said he would send me books to help me travel away from the war, even just for a moment. I guess he kept them, hoping I would come back. Even after I was declared dead”

“Maybe deep down he knew you weren’t”

“And he planned this whole meeting with his granddaughter ?” He ironically added.

“Oh no, that was beyond him. That was fate, Barnes”

“I was meant to find you” He agreed, a deep feeling of love and utter contentment forming in his heart. He bent his head down and let all he needed to say be spoken through the kiss they shared.

“Will you read it to me ?” She playfully requested.

Overflowed with joy, he smirked and kissed her forehead before opening the old book on his lap. There it was, the only choice he needed to make. The only home he had yearn to create. Her.

#Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes imagine #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier imagines #the winter soldier imagine #falcon and the winter soldier #Winter Soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagines #fatws #tfatws

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

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Bankrupt | dark!40′s!Stucky x reader

Your husband’s gambling addiction quickly got him in hot water with the mob, and you by extension. When some debt collectors come by to settle what is owed, you realize that you have a lot more to worry about than money problems.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: non con, dub con, DP, anal sex, coercion, a lil bit of knife play, basically everything awful you can imagine, please don’t read if you would find it upsetting.

@hnryycvll thanks for watching me write this live lol

moodboard by @nsfwsebbie

You knew something wasn’t right when Bruce left in the morning. He kissed you on the forehead, which was normal, but just before he stepped out for the day he turned back.

“You know I love you, right honey?” he asked nervously.

“Uh, yes, of course I do,” you answered with a raised brow, “I love you too.”

“Good,” he nodded, stepping out the door again.

“I’ll see you when you get home,” you smiled.

“Of course,” he agreed, and shut the front door behind him as he walked to his car.

You’d seen that look before, and you knew he’d done something. But it felt different this time. You wouldn’t be shocked if he came back with a few bruises, claiming he had tripped when you knew he had been roughed up by mob thugs over his gambling debt. He had told you before that he’d settled the debt and that it was going to be fine, but you weren’t sure you could really believe it anymore… after years of lying and stealing to feed his addiction, you had lost a lot of trust. But you always tried to stay positive.

That said, a knock at the door an hour later made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You really considered not answering it, and yet you were already unhooking the latch and turning the knob before you knew what you were doing.

Two men stood outside, dressed much nicer than a visit in this sort of neighborhood merited. You nearly had to crane your neck to look at them: they were so tall. And you could tell that underneath the three pieces, they were carrying a lot of muscle.

You’d seen guys like this hanging around before. You knew what they did.

“My husband isn’t home,” you instantly informed them.

The blonde one standing in the front smiled. The dark-haired one in the back took a last puff of a cigarette before dropping the butt and stomping it with his shoe.

“That’s no trouble,” the blonde explained. “Why don’t you let us in and we can talk to you?”

“You can go hassle him at work, if you want,” you shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“We’re not here for your husband, sweetcheeks,” the other one interjected with a tone of irritation.

“Just invite us in for a drink, won’t you? It’s hot out,” the blonde requested.

You didn’t get the sense you had much of a choice. You stepped back and opened the door. The two of them nodded as they filed in, giving your living space a cursory glance as you shut the door. You knew it wasn’t much. You hoped they felt guilty for taking all your money and leaving you with so little that you had to live in a place like this.

When you turned back to face them, you caught their glances moving up your body. You tried to ignore it.

“Do you want ice water? I think I might have some tea--” you began.

“It’s fine,” the blonde dismissed, “we’ll make this quick. We just need to have a little chat with you.”

“What about?” you asked nervously.

“Your husband owes a lot of money to my employers,” the dark-haired man explained through a thick Brooklyn accent.

“I don’t see why that’s my problem,” you frowned, crossing your arms.

“It’s about to be,” the blonde chimed in, his tone lacking in any sense of mocking or deridition… which somehow made it even more sinister.

You did your best to keep a brave face, not show any fear. You knew that’s what they wanted, and you had no intention of giving them anything they wanted.

“What, you gonna beat me up?” you asked incredulously, rolling your eyes.

“No, sweetheart, that’d be a waste of a pretty face…” the dark-haired man looked you up and down with a grin, “...and a great body.”

“Let’s start from the beginning,” the blonde suggested, cutting through the tension. “I’m Steve, and my associate here is Bucky. We’ve become quite acquainted with your husband.”

“Heard a lot about you,” the other-- Bucky, apparently-- added as he took a seat on your sofa like he owned the place.

“Only good things, I hope,” you chuckled nervously.

“Only great things,” Steve confirmed.

“Come sit on my lap, doll,” Bucky smiled, patting his leg.

“N-no, I’d better not,” you denied, stepping back only to bump into Steve’s towering form. He pressed his body against you and you gasped as you felt the hard outline of a gun by his waist.

“Go sit on Bucky’s lap, sweetheart,” Steve recommended with a low voice, his eyes scanning you hungrily.

You nodded a little as you obeyed, watching Bucky’s face as you uncomfortably stepped towards him and sat on his knees. He slipped an arm around your hips and pulled you back until you could feel what you hoped was a gun against your thigh.

“You seem like a good wife. Obedient,” Steve praised, stepping a little closer.

“Loyal,” Bucky added, his voice reverberating over your neck as you felt the heat of his gaze. “Stickin’ with him even when he spent all your money. You shouldn’t have to live like this.”

“Yes, well,” you swallowed, “marriage requires… sacrifice.”

“You’re more right than you know,” Steve laughed.

“I don’t underst--” you began.

“Buck, hold her legs open,” Steve commanded as he started to reach for his fly.

Before you had a chance to attempt to squirm, Bucky obeyed and grabbed your legs, wrenching them apart with a brutal strength that you had no chance against. Your skirt rolled up your thighs and you tried desperately to cover yourself but it was futile.

“No, please,” you began to beg, the illusion of fearlessness finally cracking.

“Does your husband ever get rough with ya?” Bucky asked with a low voice right against your ear that sent crawling chills up your spine strong enough to make your back arch. “This’ll be like that. Only better.”

“No, no please, you don’t have to do this,” you rushed as you saw Steve step forward, pulling his cock out from his trousers. You looked away, though as you did you realized you should look at it to prepare yourself as best you could. You gave it a glance only to whimper and look away again; it was big, and thick, and he was stroking it to its full size with ring-adorned hands. He laughed a little when he saw your intimidation.

“Don’t be scared, sweetheart, I bet you’ll like it.”

“Please, I’m sorry, I’ll get the money if you need it, just don’t--”

You were interrupted by Steve’s hand roughly grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look him in the eye.

“You think this is a negotiation?” he growled. “It’s not. The negotiation happened yesterday, with your husband. He traded you for forgiveness of his debt. Don’t you understand? It’s over. You’re ours now.”

Before you had even fully processed the meaning of his words, tears were welling in your eyes and you began to sob. “It’s not true,” you denied, “you’re lying. He would never…”

“I’m a lot of things but I’m no liar,” Steve frowned. “Buck was there-- he sold her right? You remember?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, “and pretty quick, too. It was his idea, actually. We didn’t even lay a hand on him before he offered you up. Showed us a picture and everything.”

You fought against Bucky’s grip again as you cried but it was useless: he managed to pull your legs up higher, hooking under your knees, and grab your wrists too. The position was uncomfortable but you couldn’t really worry about that as you screamed and cried at the feeling of betrayal. “No, it’s not true, it’s not true…” you sputtered, not making much sense anymore, and not really believing your own words.

“You look pretty when you cry, doll,” Bucky purred. You tried to kick at Steve and Bucky pulled at your legs harder, sending pain to your hips and causing you to yelp.

“Stop fucking fighting,” Steve hissed. “You understand that if your husband isn’t good for the deal he made, we’ll kill him, don’t you? So you’d better behave if you want to save his life.”

You froze. On one hand, this was the guy who had apparently traded you to these awful men as if you were his to give away, and you hated him for all the years of lying and sneaking around and, most notably, gambling away all your money until he was deep in the mob’s pocket.

On the other, you still, for some reason, loved him. You couldn’t stop yourself from loving him. You’d promised to stick by his side for richer or for poorer. You hadn’t known then that this was the poorest option, let alone one you would have to choose. But you couldn’t let these men kill him.

Steve held your face with his hands in a way that was both dominant and soothing-- or at least, an attempt at soothing.

“You’re going to be good, aren’t you? For your husband’s life?” Steve pressed.

You shivered a little, but took a deep breath and nodded. He smiled and patted you on the cheek.

He pulled a knife from his jacket and quickly sliced off your underwear. You sniffled as you tried to stop crying, fighting the urge to try to close your legs as Steve kneeled to look at you closer.

“Such a pretty little pussy,” he cooed. “You know, at first I wasn’t sure this was a fair trade. I mean, he owes us a lotta lettuce. But now I’m thinking he’s the one getting screwed.” Steve stood up and wiped a tear from your cheek. “You know, besides you of course.”

“Just get it over with,” you whispered. They both laughed.

“What’s with the pessimism, sweetheart? Behave yourself and I’ll make it good for you.”

You whimpered a little as he rubbed the head of his cock through your folds, focusing instead on the hard grip Bucky had on your arms and how it would probably bruise tomorrow-- it wasn’t a pleasant feeling either, but much easier to handle than a near-stranger’s cock about to plunge into you.

He had to push pretty hard to get it to go in, barreling past the resistance of your walls until he was sliding into you. You gasped and cried out, feeling Bucky’s cock harden underneath you in response to the sound.

“Fuck, so tight,” Steve groaned. “If I had a wife like you I’d’ve never let you go, sweetheart. Wouldn’t even let you leave the house. Not when I could fuck this perfect little pussy all day long.”

“It’s that good?” Bucky asked with a husky voice.

Steve buried himself in you completely and savored the feeling of your muscles fluttering around him. You bit your lip and fought your tears.

“You’ll get your turn, Buck,” Steve promised, “but I can’t promise I can give her to you in one piece.”

He pulled back out nearly all the way before slamming back in, making you choke on a scream. He set a brutally hard, yet slow, pace as he fucked you senseless, stretching you open more than you’d thought was possible. You hoped you weren’t as loud as you seemed to sound in your own head.

“You like my cock, don’t you? See, this was what you always needed,” Steve purred. “A real man. Somebody to fuck you like a whore, just how you like it, huh?”

“Hnng,” you gurgled in lieu of a reply.

You relaxed into Bucky’s embrace as best you could, letting Steve use your body and hoping it would all be over soon.

“You ever gonna let me get a piece of that?” Bucky growled at Steve.

“Soon,” Steve nodded breathlessly, “just a little more… fuck, it’s so good.”

Steve made a noise when he pulled out like he was mustering all his restraint to do it. He gripped his cock once it was free, stepping back and watching Bucky adjust your body on top of him as he freed his cock from his suit pants.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be good, right?” Bucky pressed as he angled you to slip onto his cock. You nodded feverishly as he finally pushed into you, rougher than Steve had, making you wince. “Oh god,” he groaned, “you’re so wet. Your pussy feels amazing, doll. Jesus.”

You felt an unexpected sense of pride warm your chest. You refused to believe that you actually wanted to make him feel good. You decided it was just a tactical thing-- the more you pleasured him, the sooner this would be done with.

“Good, right?” Steve asked with a smile.

“So fucking good,” Bucky agreed, leaning you forward a little. “Come on, baby, bounce on that cock,” he encouraged. You set your legs on the ground and balanced your hands on his knees, lifting and dropping your hips with stuttered breaths as his cock brushed against something inside you that made your legs shake and quiver.

Bucky leaned back and watched you work, occasionally taking a moment to squeeze or slap your ass. His hands wandered over your back, your shoulders, even your thighs; Bucky’s touch explored you until you felt his thumb circle over the puckered opening of your ass and you jumped a little in shock.

“Not there,” you begged, stopping your movements. “Please, not there.”

“Wherever I want,” he corrected sternly. You whimpered a little as you felt him press ever so slightly, your tight rim expanding to accept the tip of his thumb.

“Say it,” he demanded.

You forced your eyes shut. “Wherever you want,” you repeated. “Wherever you want, Bucky.”

He hummed in approval, and pushed his digit in to the first knuckle. You suppressed a gasp.

“Did your husband ever fuck you here? Or did he try, but you wouldn’t let him?”

“He never… we never…” you began, shaking your head.

“Seems like a waste,” he replied in a low voice, pushing in a little deeper. “You’ve got such a great ass. First thing I noticed when I walked in.”

“Is this what you were thinking about?” you asked with a gulp. “Is that what you wanted to do the whole time?”

He chuckled darkly, and it was answer enough.

He pulled his cock from your pussy and you hated that you’d supplied plenty of lubrication all on your own. He held you up as he started to press the head against your tighter opening, watching himself penetrate you with dark eyes.

He pushed his hips forward, adding more and more pressure until he was able to break past the tight ring of muscle, and you gasped like the wind had been knocked out of you.

“Fuck!” he yelped, his head falling back against the top of the couch. “So fucking tight.”

It stung like nobody’s business but you tried to keep your breathing steady as he pulled you down to the base of his cock, which was apparently even thicker and so much harder than you seemed to remember.

“Aw, I’ll be gentle, baby,” Bucky soothed as you whimpered, moving you on top of him slowly. “I don’t wanna break you. Yet.”

The pain took what must have been hours to subside, your toes involuntarily curling into the shag rug-- which made you realize your shoes must have fallen off at some point. Even when it hurt, you felt the pleasure underneath it all, his cock managing to stimulate places inside you even through the layer of your body in the way.

“She’s dripping, Buck,” Steve observed with a predatory grin. “She loves it.”

Bucky slipped his fingers between your legs and felt the wetness for himself, indeed as plentiful as Steve had promised, reacting with a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “Fuck, you like my cock in your ass, don’t you?”

You shook your head even as you felt your hips moving with his involuntarily.

“Just admit it,” he growled, wrapping a hand tightly around your neck. “Admit that you love getting fucked in the ass, because you’re my dirty little slut.”

You sobbed, choking from the tightening grip on your throat. “Bucky,” you whimpered, trying to plead with him but not getting very far into it.

“Do it for your dear old husband, huh? God, what would he think if he saw you know?”

You closed your eyes, trying not to imagine the answer to that question.

“He’d probably be wishing he’d known sooner that his innocent little wife liked it up the ass.”

They laughed and you winced, feeling Bucky graze his teeth over the shell of your ear.

“Say it, doll,” he whispered, “say it just how I told you to.”

“I…” you began, but trailed off. You yelped when he slapped you right between your legs, sending a shock of pleasure-pain through your body. “I love getting fucked in the ass,” you finally stuttered out, “because I’m your-- your dirty little slut.”

Bucky moaned right into your ear, thrusting faster and deeper into you. “Yeah, that’s right. Dirty mouth on ya, too. Gonna fuck you there another day.”

“Please,” you whimpered, not entirely sure what you were asking for.

Every slam of his hips into yours made your body shake, and you whined when he stopped thrusting to hold you down and grind against you.

You moaned with every movement, unable to stop the tears from flowing as the pain and the pleasure became indistinguishable.

You were so lost in it that you didn’t realize Steve was standing in front of you again until you felt his fingers pressing into your pussy. You were so wet that it took almost nothing, but you still gasped.

“Damn, so wet for us. Such a good girl,” Steve groaned.

Bucky pulled your legs up again, stilling inside you to hold you open for Steve.

“You can let go of her now, I reckon,” Steve informed Bucky. “She’s done fightin’. Look at her, she loves it.”

Bucky nodded and let go of your legs and arms. You did try to shut your legs a bit, not out of any notion that this would stop: you were just trying to relieve the soreness in your hips.

It didn’t last long as Steve pushed your legs apart, freeing Bucky to wrap his arms around your waist.

You hadn’t even known it was possible to fit two cocks at once, especially two cocks like this.

You made a noise that was purely inhuman as Steve pressed into you again, feeling full beyond the brim, incapable of taking anymore-- and there was still so much of him left.

“I can’t,” you began to protest, but it fell on deaf ears as Steve continued to slide into your pliant body. “It’s too much! Steve!”

That got his attention, and he looked down at you with bared teeth. “You’re gonna take it, whore. You’re gonna take our fucking cocks. And you’re gonna say my name just like that when I come in this ruined little hole.”

You sobbed as he bottomed out, feeling your holes clenching around them as you struggled to fit their girth.

Both of the men groaned a bit as they felt your struggle, Bucky licking and kissing at your neck while Steve tore your blouse open and roughly palmed at your tits.

“So fucking perfect,” Bucky praised before pushing your face to the side, pulling you into a deep and sloppy kiss. You reciprocated instantly, though you struggled to put much thought into it as all your attention was on the peculiar and powerful feeling of two men inside you at once.

You heard your moans get louder and more unabashed as they were lost in Bucky’s eager mouth, echoing back until you weren’t sure who you were hearing anymore.

Steve’s thumb roughly rubbed at your clit and you nearly screamed from the overwhelming sensations flowing through your body; your head fell back on Bucky’s shoulder again, who kissed your temple and cheek in a way much too delicate for the situation.

“Didn’t I say I’d make it good for you?” Steve growled. “Tell me how good it feels.”

You would look back on this moment and try to convince yourself that you were immersed in your role, that you were just saying whatever he wanted to hear for your own safety. You would repeat over and over internally that you hated it and that you were just a hell of an actress with a strong sense of self-preservation. But you would know that it was a lie. Because what you said next was the honest-to-God truth, and deep down, all three of you knew it.

“It feels so fucking good!” you screamed. “Please don’t stop, oh my god, I’m going to-- fuck!”

“Yeah baby, come on my cock,” Steve praised. “His cock, too. Come for us.”

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, wrapping your arms around Steve’s neck to brace yourself, “yes, yes, yes!”

Every part of you tensed up and tightened, your entire body like a spring pulled to its limit. And as the tension released and you felt yourself shatter in their arms, a gush of wetness pulsed out of you.

“Fuck,” Steve grinned, “look at our girl, coming so hard for us.”

“Bet her husband’s never made her do that,” Bucky laughed. “She’s clenching around me, Steve, I don’t think I can take much more.”

“Want us to come in you, baby?” Steve growled, nipping at your jaw. “You wanna be so full of us, don’t you? Wanna make us come?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, exhausted and weak, limp in his arms, “yes, Steve, please…”

Bucky lost it first, holding you so tight that you could barely breathe. He babbled praise against your ear as he spilled inside you, telling you how good you were for him, how you were gonna make him feel good from now on, whenever he wanted. You could barely process that as you felt Steve follow suit, moaning weakly as he pumped into you with stuttering thrusts, painting your insides with his spend.

“Yes,” Steve hissed as he began to come down from his high, both of them buried in you as deep as they could fit, all three of you panting like you’d just run a marathon.

You winced as Steve pulled out of you, your face feeling hot as you felt his cum begin to leak out of you.

Bucky helped you stand up and adjusted your clothes a little until you were covered up again… but you were sure you must’ve looked completely fucked anyways. He scooped you up into his arms; an hour ago it would’ve terrified you, but now you leaned into his shoulder and curled up into a ball in his embrace. He carried you out of the house and laid you down in the backseat of their car, with a tenderness you wished he had shown a little sooner.

He sat in the back with you while Steve drove you to Bucky’s apartment: your new home, they informed you excitedly.

The movement of the car rocked you to a place between sleep and wakefulness, and you tried not to listen to the men talking about the plans they had for you, or the ‘assignments’ they needed to complete this week. Steve talked about needing to go out of town, and they decided that he would take you with him to relieve his stress. “I’ll miss you though,” Bucky cooed, stroking your hair.

You were crying but there were no sobs, just tears flowing silently as you tried to think about the lines they were leaving on your face and not the fluids leaking from the rest of your abused body.

When the car stopped and you were carried into Bucky’s apartment, you felt your locket slip from your neck and fall into a grate. A picture of your husband was inside that locket. You got the sense you wouldn’t be needing it anymore.

#dark!stucky #dark!stucky x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky smut #dark!steve smut #chris evans x y/n #chris evans imagines #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans headcanons #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan headcanons #sebastian stan imagine

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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Steve Rogers, The Man On Fire

Hey y'all, as Pride month draws to a close I would like to post this fic. It's been in my drafts for a month and I finally today found the motivation to finish it. This is special to me for many reasons, one of which being that I'm proudly a part of this community. Some of the anger written in is my own. I think a lot of people will resonate with it. I really hope you all enjoy this and happy Pride Month <3

This was based loosely off a headcannon and once I re-find it I will credit!

Synopsis: Steve is freshly thawed, queer, and pissed | A.k.a. Steve's experience in 21st Century America

Characters: Steve Rogers, Mentions of Bucky Barnes, (loosely a Stucky fic but Steve thinks he's dead here)

Warnings: Angst but not bad, Steve Rogers being volatile and chaotic (we love), poorly written accents (I literally read this with an accent in my head), literally a 2k monologue

Word count: 5.1k

Steve Rogers came out of the ice angry.

No— not angry— Steve Rogers came out of the ice fuckin’ furious.

He came out of the ice with his hands curled into two fists, with his jaw clenched so hard his teeth were liable to snap, and with a bone to pick with every damn reporter and historian and too loud opinion on this side of the Brooklyn Bridge.

He came out simmering— no, erupting— like the serum in his blood couldn’t keep his body from hibernation all those years ago but it sure as hell won’t keep him from setting the entirety of New York on fire now. He’ll burn it all down if he has to and rebuild it the way he remembers it— the way Bucky would have remembered it— and at the end of it all no one— not the bigots or deniers or the homophobes that seem to be the only thing that came with him from the forties— will be able to say that Captain America can’t love whoever he wants.

No one will be able to say that Steve Rogers didn’t love James “Bucky” “the man I’ve loved since twelve years old” Barnes with everything he had and then some.

No one.

So he starts with the museums in Washington— because sure it isn’t New York but where else would a relic like himself belong more?

He still has hope when he enters the building. They didn’t make them like this when he was a kid— they had science fairs in the town hall and culture fairs in the backstreets near the docks but never anything this grand. No tall marble pillars or enough stairs to make him wonder if he would have been able to climb to the top when he was half the size he is now. It’s strange. It’s kind of wonderful. Yeah, the Smithsonian museums make Steve Rogers feel small for the first time in a very long time and that gives him hope.

That hope doesn’t last long, though, because soon he’s wandering through the halls, following the signs that say Captain America: The First Avenger— what the hell is an Avenger? Is that what they’re calling soldiers these days? Now he feels small and old.

Turning the corner is like landing on another planet, one devoted entirely to him. His picture is everywhere he looks, his name is in lights, even his damn uniform has been replicated and presented on a little stage and he hates it. The rage is back, sparking at his fingers— he’s a match and lucky for everyone this building is made of stone because if it wasn’t he’s sure it would be reduced to nothing but ash by now.

It only worsens as he begins reading through the plaques and the paragraphs flashing across screens on the walls— he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that. The more he reads, though, the more he wonders if the stone is really, truly safe from the fire in his blood. He doesn’t think it is.

He surely isn’t at least— he feels like he’s going to explode. This isn’t him— none of this is him. War hero. Martyr. Golden boy. He has to stop reading that plaque— clearly no one did their research. Clearly no one dug up his medical files— or his police records. Brawls at the pub, disorderly conduct behind Mr. De Luca’s sandwich shop, public nudity at the beach that one time— thank you Bucky for the best night of his god damn life. Golden boy— ha.

Golden nobody with the black eye and broken hand is more like it.

For a moment he thinks he’s fine— he thinks it can’t get worse than this. Then he gets to the early life section and for an even longer moment his tongue tastes like gunpowder.

Steven Grant Rogers grew up in the streets of Brooklyn alongside his friend James Buchanan Barnes—

He can’t bring himself to finish the sentence— not when they already got the most important part wrong. Friend. Friend? No, no, no. No! There are a million words in the english language that Steve could use to describe Bucky and ‘friend’ will never be the first one.

How about best friend?

How about partner in crime?

How about soulmate who loved Steve so much that every night for the past forty-eight days since he woke up in an era that Bucky doesn’t exist in he’s cried himself to sleep with the same cherry cola taste of his ‘friend’ on his tongue.

It’s the final straw— Steve loses it.

“Anyone got a marker?”

The museum is quiet before he speaks but when his voice— steadily rising and taking on that New York headiness that his troops used to jazz him about— cuts through the exhibit— his fuckin’ exhibit— it’s silent. It’s dead, almost as dead as Buck— Nobody dares move a muscle as he rips his ball cap off his head and throws it at the statue of himself. Everyone knows who he is— everyone is going to know who he is so help him god.

“I said—” he tries again— “does anyone have a marker?”

It takes a moment for the people around him to pick their jaws up off the floor and he allows them that moment with a smug grin starting to tug on the corners of his lips. Finally— they’re starting to get it.

He’s not a hero; he’s a supernova of every scrawny, queer kid who’s ever gotten beaten to a pulp for kissing who they want.

Maybe then it’s fitting that the marker— when it’s finally produced and placed in his waiting palm— comes from a teenage girl with a shaved head and a blue, pink, and purple denim jacket and a busted lip. She doesn’t say much— only a mumbled here you go— but her eyes say everything that her words don’t. Give em’ hell, Cap. For the first time since waking up he flashes a genuine grin back— yeah, this one’s for you kid.

Steve wastes no time uncapping the sharpie— he’ll look that one up later— and scratching out the error. The blasphemy to his unholy name. It takes him a little longer to decide what to write in its place. There are a million words, sure, but somehow none of them feel right at this moment. None of them are enough. That’s something he’ll have to come to terms with later, though— how much nothing feels like enough anymore without Bucky.

Finally Steve settles on a word and he scribbles it as neatly as he can given the fact that he hasn’t had to write anything in eighty years. When he takes a step back, feeling alive for the first time since waking up, he beckons over the girl with the shaved head and points to the place where he’s taken it upon himself to correct history.

“Hey kid, why don’t you go ahead and read that outloud for everyone here.”

He allows another moment— this time because she deserves the time it takes for her eyes to light up and the smile to stretch across her bruised mouth.

Steve laughs— a rusted, croaky laugh; another first in forever— when her head whips around, facing him as she loudly proclaims: “It says boyfriend. Steve Rogers grew up in the streets of Brooklyn alongside his boyfriend Bucky Barnes!”

“Damn right I did—” he mutters to the kid before taking a step towards the crowd of gaping mouths. “Did you all hear that? Don’t worry if ya’ didn’t— I’ll say it one more time. Boyfriend. Bucky was my boyfriend and if he was here today he would be my husband. If any of you have a problem with that then feel free to take it up with me. I took on half of Brooklyn for that man and I’ll do it again.”

When no one says anything Steve nods, turning to hand the girl back her marker and to thank her— he may be angry but he hasn’t lost all his manners— but when he looks at her she doesn’t look back. Instead she takes the same step forward that he had, one of her hands balled into a tiny, shaking fist at her side and the other wrapped around a cell phone that’s pointed towards the crowd. He doesn’t understand the mechanics but he thinks she’s recording.

“You hear that?” She parrots the super soldier with a wavering but fierce voice. “Captain America likes men! And none of you can deny it!”

This time it’s his mouth that drops, watching as she shakily turns the camera off and spins back around. Before Steve can say anything, though, she’s talking again, this time hastier, and he can’t help but think that she sounds so much like him. All flushed and scrawny and pissed.

“I’m sorry, I’ll delete the recording if you want but, I jus’ know these bigots are gonna’ try and cover everything up and that would be a fuckin’ shame. I don’t know if you know how many kids need to hear this. I did— and I think they should too. Only if you want, of course.”

He doesn’t answer right away— he can’t. It’s like looking at himself at fifteen. Suddenly he’s back again, his feet hanging in the water as his boyfriend paces behind him, asking if he’s ready to have him look at his knuckles yet. He didn’t get that many good punches in— the scrapes are mostly from the pavement— but Buck always worries too much so it doesn’t matter. The protective idiot.

Steve shakes his head, blinking away the sunset lingering behind his eyes. “Bucky woulda’ loved you, kid.”

The next time he loses it— the next time he turns into more flame than man— is after he saves the city he’s been trying to burn down for three months.

It isn’t long after that day in the museum when Nick Fury decides it would be best for everyone if Steve goes back into the field. Of course, no one really asks him what he wants— they pretty much just shove a new suit into his hands and tell him to get training, Captain— but what else is new?

No one really comments on his outburst besides that either. Can you really call it an outburst when you’re just trying to reclaim the parts of you that have been stolen? Sure, the press gets a hold of the story and, true to what the kid had said, tries to twist it into something more digestible, but no one actually addresses it up with Steve. Apparently when someone saves the world as good as he does no one cares that they kiss men.

Or that they don’t wanna’ to actually save the world anymore.

See, in those three months— between the training and training and even more training that Steve Rogers begrudgingly obliges— he has time to catch up on the world. More importantly, he has time to catch up on what the world thinks of him. He scours a plethora of documentaries, scholarly essays, and whole books of information about his time as Captain America. Well— his time as Captain America when it mattered. In all his scouring he learns one thing: everything written about him is wrong.

It’s all so fuckin’ wrong.

Just why the hell would he want to save a world so bent on destroying who he is?

The Smithsonian exhibition was nothing compared to what’s been written in the eighty years he spent in the ice. Better yet, nothing compared to what hasn’t been written about him. They’ve taken an eraser to every part of his life that doesn’t fit with the golden image that they constructed for him. A.k.a. every part that matters. His relationship, his past, every little thing that made him supposedly perfect for the role he was given. Gone. Erskine told him he was a good man— apparently he was the only one who thought so.

Apparently being a good man isn’t good enough.

They only wanted the perfect soldier. Yeah, well, they had one and they fucked him over too. Don’t even get him started on what they did to Bucky— Steve doesn’t want to think about what Winnifred— Winnie for short— Barnes would do if she saw the history books erasing her baby’s Jewish roots. Or his relationship. It wouldn’t be pretty, that’s for damn sure. If ever there was someone more protective than Bucky it would have been his mother. Not that there’s a damn note about her in anything either though.

Maybe that’s the final straw that does him in this time— watching the place that Mrs. Barnes loved more than almost anything else in the world crumble, while also knowing that the world no longer gives a shit about the two people she loved more.

“Mr. Rogers, this is where you grew up, is it not? Is there anything you would like to say about what took place here in your home city today?”

Maybe he pretends not to hear the last part— maybe he really does only hear up until where the reporter asks him if there is anything he wants to say. He’s been around quite his fair share of explosions; it would make sense that his hearing is a little off. Maybe he just doesn’t care anymore, though.

Scratch that— he definitely doesn’t care anymore.

And why the fuck should he? He does have something to say and propriety be damned he’s going to say it.

Steve stares into the crowd of faceless reporters and flashing cameras with a scowl on his grimey face. Around him stand the other Avengers— his ‘team’. The last time he had a team the historians screwed up the history for every single member. Dugan, Morita, Falsworth, Jones, Dernier, Sawyer, Juniper, Pinkerton. Barnes. All of them were brave men with families and sacrifices and all of them were treated like jokes by ‘reporters’ just like the ones in front of him now. He really doubts there’s a difference between old and new journalism.

The only difference is that now he’s here and this time he’s not going to let them write anything but the damn truth.

“It is—” Steve muses, brushing the sweaty hair from his forehead— “I’m surprised you know that though.”

The reporter cocks his head, clearly confused, and it makes the super soldier’s blood boil. “Come again, sir?”

“I said I’m surprised you know where I was born, kid.” This time when he says the word— kid— it’s derogatory. “Ya’ know, considering how you all seem to know nothing about me otherwise.”

Steve almost smiles at the way the crowd tenses. He actually would if it weren’t for the white hot rage coursing through his veins, mingling with the last of the adrenaline leftover in his system. It gives him an extra kick— not that he needs it. Even when he was just a runt from the wrong side of the tracks he needed nothing more than an offhand comment to raise his fists. Fighting to Steve Rogers has always been intoxicating— the aftershocks of winning the battle just makes it more thrilling now.

Who knew, right?

“Sir I asked—” The reporter sputters and Steve simply holds a hand up, silencing him before he can start again.

“Yeah I know what you asked, alright. You want me to talk about the battle here in New York today and how I am more than happy to have risked my life to save it. But I can’t do that, kid. Because I didn’t save it for you. I didn’t save it for any of you.”

Steve feels his team tense— maybe were it any other time he would stop talking. He would just leave it, let the issue go, because Bucky would tell him too. They aren’t worth it, bruiser, he would say, they aren’t worth your blood. Maybe he would listen to his boyfriend because usually he was right. Bucky was always right. So yeah, maybe he would list—

Who is he kidding; he knows he wouldn’t.

Not then and certainly not now— not when Bucky isn’t here to defend himself against everything Steve has been reading about. That’s exactly why he doesn’t stop talking. Someone has to defend him and who better of a person than him? So, yeah, he keeps going, even when he hears footsteps behind him.

“You wanna’ know who I did save it for? James Barnes, that’s who I saved it for! You see, just around that corner there is a bookstore. Rickley Books. That was my boyfriend's favourite bookstore. You know, the man who gave his life to stop a train in Austria from reaching the enemies? Yeah that was him. That train was filled with supplies. Had it reached their headquarters, who knows if we’d be standing here today. If there would be a New York at all. Not that you would know that. But who cares about that dead sergeant from the 107th, right? There’s plenty just like him.”

Steve shrugs nonchalantly— a move he picked up from the very man he’s speaking about— but he spits his words at the reporters with enough venom to cancel out any peace that the action brings. That’s his own move.

He keeps going. “You know who else I saved it for? His mother. Yeah, his mother Winnie Barnes. Wonderful lady. She used to run a soup kitchen a couple blocks from here. Kept the rift raft like myself from going hungry most nights— I was a brawler, you know.”

A couple of reporters in the crowd laugh at that and Steve flinches, his vision tinting red as he cranes his neck, seeking them out.

“Oh you think that’s funny, do you? You think I’m joking? I’m not. You ever been backed into a corner, son? Had people hurl slurs at you that I can’t even repeat today? Ever been beaten up for loving your best friend? No, I bet you haven’t. You weren’t a queer kid in the thirties. That’s hard— that’s borderline impossible actually. I only made it because of people like Winnie Barnes. That woman was a saint but nobody talks about her either.”

Steve has to take a deep breath, clearing the rasp in his voice that rises as he dwells on the woman he called his second mother for so long. She wasn’t just a saint, she was an angel. He can’t cry here though, not now. Not even as his throat begins to tighten.

“Winnie was the type of lady who didn’t let anyone walk over the little people. She used to sit me down and say Stevie you gotta’ fight for what you want because ain’t nobody gonna’ give it to you. She told me that I shouldn’t have to but that there were going to be people who would try to tear me down just for being me. And she was right— just like her son— because that was the era, you know? But now, here in the twenty-first century, you’re all still trying to tear us down.”

A hand lands on his shoulder, small fingers tugging at where his suit has begun to tear. Natasha Romanoff. He meets her gaze quickly, neck craning to stare down the red head, and in the few seconds their eyes meet it’s like Bucky is next to him. Somehow the blue in her irises catches the falling sun just like his used to. Steve can hear the gruff of his voice in the depths of his mind. Back down, bruiser. The sentiment is echoed across Nat’s face.

Steve shakes her hand off him, turning back to the reporters— don’t they know that he can’t?

“You all say you care about me, huh? That I’m a hero? You know nothing about me— you don’t want to. Before I was a soldier I was a kid. A queer kid. I said that already but let me repeat it. Queer. Did you write that down? None of you certainly did before. That’s how I know that you don’t care— because in an age where being queer is infinitely more accepted you still don’t bother to write it down.”

He pauses for another breath, shutting his eyes against the blinking red lights of the cameras. They’re like little demons, always watching his every move. Recording. Everything’s always recorded these days. Will he ever be used to that? Bucky was the technology guy, not him. Not then and not now.

When Steve picks up again— eyes open and shoulders freshly straight— it’s on a new note— a clear note.

“You don’t care about me— you certainly don’t care about the real heroes of the war because if you did you wouldn’t erase our history. Do you know how much it would have meant to Bucky to see our relationship accepted? The man who died for you? How much it would’ve meant to his mother? You can’t just pick which of our stories and our sacrifices are worthy and which aren't.”

He hasn’t spoken this much since he’s woken up, not all at once at least. Maybe he should have, though— maybe if he had then he wouldn’t feel like ripping the heads off everyone in front of him right now. Call it fight or flight. Call it revenge. Hell, call it whatever you’d like because it doesn’t really matter. Either way he feels like a kid again— again— backed into a corner behind the deli with his fists up and his teeth bared.

He feels feral again.

“So now you just want me to save the world like I did— like Bucky did— all those years ago— or maybe jus’ New York— as if that’s any better— and you don’t even bother to write a proper article about me? Hell, I never even asked for an article, let alone a whole exhibit! I’m just a soldier— and before that I was just a kid. If there’s never another article written about me I’ll be grateful. But now that I’m here, standing in front of you, I’ll say this—”

Just as Steve’s voice is cresting into a shout that would no doubt be heard regardless of whether or not the microphones were in front of him, Natasha tries one more time, her fingers slipping between his.

Her voice is a dull buzz compared to his, only reaching his ears by sheer will. “C’mon Stevie— we gotta’ go now.”

Like before he’s stunned but this time instead of seeing Buck— instead of hearing him in his head— he hears Winnie.

You fought good, honey. You fought good for us. You can rest now.

It’s jarring and it’s not lost on him the handful of awkward seconds that it takes for him to respond. That’s just the effect Winnie had on people though— still has, apparently. Steve shakes his head— I know, mama. But I gotta’ finish this fight.

“No, Nat— I’ve got to say this.” Steve mumbles— voice just beginning to waver despite how hard he clenches his jaw— before sneering at the crowd one last time.

“If I ever read an article from any of you that discredits Bucky Barnes, our relationship, or myself just know that I’ll come for you. I’ll come for this city. Don’t you ever forget who I saved it for. James Barnes, Winnie Barnes, and every queer kid who’s ever felt erased because of people like you. The bigots in the forties couldn’t stop me. The Nazis couldn’t stop me. Not even the Atlantic Ocean could stop me. So don’t think for a second that any of you could either. Have a good day.”

With that Captain America turns, marching off the impromptu stage and beginning the trek back to his apartment. He doesn’t bother looking at his team as he passes them— he can imagine their stunned faces well enough on his own. No doubt he’ll be getting another assignment from Fury soon enough to make up for this ‘outburst’ too. Still, he feels a little bit better. There’s an ache in his shoulder, and one under his ribs too, but he still smiles as he passes Rickman and Sons Books. That must mean something good.

The last time Steve Rogers burns he doesn’t burn the way he’s expecting to— he doesn’t vandalize his own name or blow up at a reporter. No, the third time— the final time— that Steve Rogers burns it’s with nostalgia— and with a damn good cup of coffee in his hand.

“I had no idea this place was even here.” The girl across from Steve muses, tiny hands shifting the steaming cup back and forth.

Her name is Ellie, he learned that back at the museum after asking for a copy of the video she took. He barely knew how to use his phone back then, let alone his email— hell, both still confuse him more often than not— but she had been patient. A little awestruck and a little riled up too but he took it in stride— easily. It’s not hard being nice to the spitting image of him.

“I’m glad I’m good for something other than making the news.” Steve chuckles and this time he means it— there’s no malice or ill intent, only humor. “O’Malley’s ‘s been here longer than I have. Looked a little different then—” he takes a moment to let his eyes wander the old coffee shop and it’s new appliances— a moment to feel his age catch up to him— “but I guess I did too.”

Ellie’s laughter joins in there and it’s strange— strange that he hasn’t laughed with another person in seven, almost eight, months; strange that her laughs sound so much like Bucky’s when they were younger; strange that Bucky isn’t here to hear. Here to laugh, too. Because he would have.

He would have called Steve an old man, would have wrapped his arm around his shoulders, would have asked— no, demanded— that Ellie try the plum cobbler. They always made the best cobbler. Bucky always had the best laugh. All grit and breath and him. Steve feels warm just thinking about it.

“Well thanks for letting me in on the secret, I’ll make sure to guard it carefully.” She even has Bucky’s warm sarcasm.

Maybe it’s not so much like looking in a mirror as it is looking at what he wishes he and his boyfriend could have been back then.

“And thanks for letting me interview you—” Ellie continues, setting the cup down but not before nodding at it, her eyes wide— “wow. You weren’t kidding about the joe, huh? Anyway— thanks for scheduling this. I know you’re probably super busy— and that there are more well established people you could have gone to.”

Steve sets his own mug down too— if he hadn’t there’s a possibility it would be more puddle than porcelain. “Well established means nothin’, kid. Not when you don’t have heart. They’re parasites, all of ‘em. The press couldn’t care less about me.”

Ellie nods, lifting the lid of her laptop. It’s a little bit dented and slathered in stickers, not quite the newest model— he would know, he has the newest one and it’s still sitting in his apartment in the box. Yet another testament to how little the people around him truly know him.

“Welcome to the twenty-first century, can I get you a side of classism with that commercialism?”

Now she sounds like Winnie too.

“Say, has anyone ever told you that you’re funny?”

She shrugs, tilting her head, a lopsided grin glued to her face. “Once or twice— I never know if they mean it or if they just want me to shut up. I never do so I guess we’ll never know.”

Steve sputters out another laugh because; “I guess we’re the same then— never give them a moment, kid. That’s the best advice I can give you.” He pauses— again— he supposes it’s going to be a day of pausing— he supposes it’s about time he pauses— before adding, “Bucky would’ve scolded me for saying that.”

Ellie’s fingers, swift and deft over the machine— Steve hadn’t even seen her begin to type— pause too as her smile softens. “What would he have said instead?”

Her question shouldn’t catch off guard— this is why he asked her to meet him; to finally, properly write his story— their story. Still he pauses— Steve’s empty hands feel hot, his shoulders warm; bare— what would he have said? It doesn’t take long to hear his boyfriend’s voice, not there but somehow loud in his ear all the same.

Just relax— they aren’t worth it. It’s too nice out to care about anything but the water— are you coming in or not? Summer doesn’t last forever, you know?

It’s impossible but Steve can feel the sun on his back and on his ears again, like he’s there— like he’s back, sixteen and on fire. Those were the days where everything made him cold. The days where his skin burned no matter the season but especially in August which was when the ocean was warm enough to swim in. It never stopped him from joining Buck— nothing could have stopped him. His cheeks warm, too, at the thought.

Steve blinks, his own smile— perhaps a little lopsided in it’s own right— shaping over his mouth. “He would have told you to relax— and to try the plum cobbler. It’s fantastic.”

With another giggle— and a reiterated comment— has anyone ever told you you’re funny, Steve?— they fall into a conversation, just a kid and a relic, about life. It’s not an easy conversation— but then again those kinds never are. It’s real, though, and unedited. Unfiltered. Just the way Erskine and Winnie and Bucky would have liked it— the only way Steve wants it. It’s not perfect but, hell, Steve has never been perfect.

He’s never wanted to be.

Maybe Steve doesn’t know everything his boyfriend would say— and maybe he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t blow up once or twice after today— but he can confidently say that he gave Brooklyn a run for her money— twice— and lived to tell the tale. He can say then when it mattered, he burned. That he still burns. That he will until he doesn’t— until he’s extinguished.

But, hey, though Summer doesn’t last forever, not even the Atlantic could extinguish the flame that is Steve Rogers.

That’s what he writes— in Sharpie— on the card he writes to Ellie— the one attached to the computer he knows he’ll never use.

#Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Stucky #steve x bucky #Queer!steve rogers #Queer!Steve #Queer!Bucky #Queer!Bucky Barnes #Captain America #pride month #Steve angst #steve fluff #Marvel cinematic universe #Mcu #mcu fic #steve fic

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angstysebfan · 4 years

Text

Laser-Like Focus - Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: You met Bucky while working with the Avengers. You fell in love and got married. One thing you had in common was to kill all members of HYDRA. Bucky for his known reasons, and you because they killed your parents in front of you when you were a little girl. Soon your focus on HYDRA pulled you and Bucky apart. He decided to leave the Avengers and after a long separation, sent you divorce papers. He comes back to get the signed papers, as he is about to get married again. But everything with you and Buck is an adventure.

Flashback

You were sound asleep in your room, with your dog, Toby, snuggled against you. You are awoken by the sound of screeching brakes outside of your home. Suddenly your mother walks in, “Y/N, come on baby, we have to go,” she says in a panic before scooping you up in her arms.

As she makes it to the top of the stairs, your dad is running up, “They’re here! We have to go through the back way. Give me, Y/N, and you take the lead,” your dad whispers to your mom. Your mom passes you to your dad and you wrap your arms around his neck tight. Your dad put his finger to his lips to tell you to remain quiet.

The three of you quickly and quietly sneak down the back staircase, that only your family knew about. It brought you to the section of the basement that was hidden. Through the basement the three of you ran through the underground tunnel. You tried your best to remain calm and held on to your dad tightly.

Your dad was a scientist for S.H.I.E.L.D, and he knew HYDRA was looking for him so he can replicate the serum used on Captain America during WWII. He always had this plan of escape, just in case, but always hoped he never needed to use it.

As you three made it to the end of the tunnel, your mother climbs out of the tunnel and grabs you from your dad. She races you behind some bushes and tells you to stay there. As your dad climbs out of the tunnel, he rushes over to where he has a car hidden and starts it. You mother grabbed some bags from the shed that was near the car and placed them in the trunk.

As your mom went to retrieve you, they were surrounded by vehicles and men with armor and guns. Your mother looked to where she knew you were and signaled you to stay out of site. “Dr. Y/L/N, nice to see you,” a tall man with a Russian accent says. “I wish I could say the same,” you dad responds. “Where is the formula doctor? You don’t want your wife to get injured, do you? Or what about your daughter?” he asks.

“I don’t have it. It’s already with S.H.I.E.L.D,” you dad replies. The man shakes his head, “I see your wife here, where is that cute little girl of yours? Hmm?” he asks taking out a pistol. “She is staying with family,” you mom replies. The man tuts, “Shame, would have been more fun to kill all of you together,” he says before he shoots your mom in the head, followed quickly by your dad.

You wake up with a start, sitting up, drenched with sweat, and you heart racing. You look over to the other side of the bed and see that it is still empty. Another nightmare. They have been constant since that day in December. If they aren’t about the day your parents were murdered, it’s about the day the love of your life sent you divorce papers.

You get up and quickly change into gym clothes, knowing sleeping is out of the picture at this point. You quickly run downstairs and grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator and head down the gym. You tape your hands, knowing the only way to get out your frustrations was the punching bag.

You start of slow, so that you don’t injure yourself, but as you start to feel the cathartic relief, you punch harder and faster. You think about the day your parents were murdered and how it changed you forever. You were rescued a few days later by S.H.I.E.L.D and put into foster care, as you had no other family. When you were old enough, you went back to S.H.I.E.L.D. and started training with them, quickly becoming a damn good agent.

Along the way you became good friends with Natasha, and when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, she made sure you were taken care of. After the events of the Avengers Civil War, all was forgiven between Tony and Steve, and the Avengers were back together, with a new member, Bucky Barnes. Natasha reached out to you, knowing you were still an agent with another agency in Europe, and asked if you wanted to be a member of the team as well.

You jumped on the next flight and met the team at the compound. It took you little time to become a hardworking member of the team, a member of the family, and mostly, a friend to Bucky. You both became close very quickly, understanding the meaning of losing everything. You both also suffered from nightmares, and made sure to help each other out. It didn’t take long for the friendship to form into a loving relationship, then marriage.

Bucky was the love of your life. He was the bright spot in your life of darkness, and he felt the same about you. You both loved each other with such passion, the thought of anything going wrong was unthinkable. You both also had a passion to make HYDRA pay for what they did. Bucky wanted them to know the pain they caused him, and you wanted sweet revenge on your parents lives.

At first the need to beat and kill HYDRA brought you both closer, however as time went on, your thirst for HYDRA blood grew stronger and Bucky was looking for other things. Bucky wanted to settle down, start a family, and live a happy life. He realized to him that was beating HYDRA, but you wanted HYDRA to pay the ultimate price, and you wouldn’t stop until it was done.

Your relationship with Bucky, though strong at first, started to fall apart. You did your best to fix everything, along with Bucky, but at the end of the day he wanted to stop fighting and live a life, and you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not until every last HYDRA member was dead. It broke Bucky’s heart the day he asked for a separation. He thought maybe separating would show you what you were missing.

Bucky left the Avengers at the same time of the separation. He moved back down into Brooklyn, and he hoped and prayed for you to show up saying he was enough, and that he never saw you in the newspaper because you got hurt, or worse died. You both would talk weekly, hoping to come to an arrangement that would work, but alas nothing seemed to get your focus off of HYDRA.

This past December you got a package in the mail from an attorney’s office. When you opened it you saw they were divorce papers that were already signed by Bucky. Your heart broke into a million pieces, and you didn’t know what to do. The team tried to get you to talk to Bucky, but you knew at this point you drove him away completely. You shoved the papers in your desk drawer to look at another day.

Since that day you have had frequent nightmares about the death of your parents, or getting those papers again, but in the dream Bucky gave them to you with no emotion. You would wake up the same way and in return, would come down the punching bag to relieve the stress.

When the sun finally came up, you were dead tired, but still punching the bag. Steve and Nat walked into the gym. “Another nightmare?” Nat called out to you. You refused to look at them and just nodded, continuing to punch the bag. You felt someone walk up behind you and finally turned to look. Steve had a look of sympathy mixed with guilt.

“Y/N, um... I hate to ask you this, especially since you are already having a bad day, but do you have the papers signed?” he asks. You look up at him, knowing Bucky reached out. You nodded, “Yea, uh. They are in my dresser,” you respond quietly. Steve nodded, “Ok, um... Bucky is stopping by today, to uh... to pick them up,” he says.

Your eyes snap up to him. This will be the first time you will see Bucky in months, and the first time you will speak to him since he sent the papers. “Well he can come and get them from me himself,” you say. Steve knew you were going to play hardball and nodded before walking away. You untaped your fingers and headed out of the gym to shower.

Your soon to be ex-husband, who you are still madly in love with is coming to get the divorce papers. You had to make sure you looked amazing so you could show him what he is missing. You put a smile on your face and you removed the wedding band you still wore on your left ring finger. This was your chance to get him back.

Chapter 2

Well here is the start of something new. I am going based off of the relationship from the movie Twister, so if you haven’t seen it, don’t worry you will see what I mean. Enjoy! Feedback is appreciated!

Permanent Taglist: @hailmary-yramliah @tuiccim @comedictragedy @cap-n-stuff @thefridgeismybestie @swiftmind @aleaisntcreative @lookiamtrying @pinknerdpanda @morganclaire4 @iamvalentinaconstanza @verygraphicink @im-squished @joannie95 @peace-love-hobbitness @connie326 @arundhati1609 @amandamdiehl @harrysthiccthighss @its-izzys @roserose26 @elegantobservationstudentsblog

Story Taglist: @hommoturttle

#Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #Bucky angst #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader

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ricinbach · 3 years

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howlin’ for you. | chapter 2 - who was trapped

the ticket to freedom brings nothing but confinement.

New York City.

What the regular humans, Mundies as they taught you to call them, deem the most beautiful and vibrant city in the entire world. The city that never slept, and most likely never will. Out of all places to exile yourself, this had to be the one in dreams - with the flickering neon lights, bright and worn-down medley of advertisements and signs, the constant smell of grease mixed in with cigarettes - all enhanced by the vapor emanating from the sewer lids embedded in cracked asphalt.

All those years ago, when your kin decided to break all hell loose in the Homelands and eventually relocate, it was the general consensus amongst Fables that a fresh start in an urban city would be the most viable option. Starting out with a clean slate, the idea of commencing anew appealing so much to so many who have lost money, family and pride. Settling into a city that could seemingly offer so much, blending in with the rest of the human population did not seem to be that hard of a task to accomplish back then.

The Homelands had been old and full of major drama - moving to designated apartment blocks close to one of the world’s biggest metropolitan hubs surely could not be that bad of an idea.

Could it?

Well, to you, it seemed like as long as there were Fables involved, with them living in close proximity to each other if not neighboring, there was bound to be some sort of ruckus starting - no matter the location, yet it was of course an added ingredient to the recipe of chaos.

It was as if this secluded part of Brooklyn, its atrocities and “marvels” magically hidden in plain sight from the mundane eyes, attracted all sorts of trouble like a damn magnet. At every single corner and crevice of these streets there was some Fable getting their first sexual release for the night or some others looking for a quick fight with their rivals older than time itself.

The latter never seemed to end well for anyone involved and around, once the rumored Big Bad Wolf intervened into the scene.

Yet, it was hard for you to know for sure other than echo the gossip around since he did not frequent this part of town - it was a long-lived wonder of yours whether he got tired at all, running all around this cursed town as the only source of visible authority and enforcement.

He was a beast walking amongst men, after all. That much you had seen for your own bare eyes back in the Homelands. There was a reason why everyone thought twice before crossing him, or attempting something borderline illegal by his terms. A visit from him meant trouble and you had succeeded in your attempts of keeping a low profile, thus far.

Maybe you would get an answer to your worries and wonders that particular night - by the looks of how it was unfolding, it could very well end in either you crawling to the Fabletown office for his help or your quick and inevitable demise in that forsaken club.

The little polaroid in front that seemed to send shivers of disgust along with fear down your entire body was the one to blame.

There was a lot of messed up shit happening in Fabletown, and you had seen your fair share of it, both when hooking and living. Out of everything, this had to be the most fucked up you had the pleasure of witnessing. Oh, how you wished you had not, as you kept on staring at the scene it depicted in utter disbelief, eyes wide and hand over mouth. The more you stared at it, the more you wanted to storm out of there and run the farthest away your legs took you.

“How the hell did you guys get this?”

“That’s not important,” she had simply stated, the traces of disgust mixed in with some sort of hope evident in her dark green orbs as she glanced at you. “This is our one-way ticket out of this hellhole.”

The dimmed lightbulbs of the worn makeup mirrors seemed to focus all their everlasting glow onto the photograph in question, the weight of the conversation at hand naturally muffling the usual bumping of the raunchy bass coming from the main room as you holed up near the closets. Taking your eyes off focus for just a split second to calm your heartbeat down, through the smoky reflection, your eyes would spot the clock just ten short of hitting midnight.

For fuck’s sake, it was supposed to be the beginning of your pole time that night, but you had absolutely no confidence on your feet to carry you in six-inch platforms after what you had just seen.

“Well, we found it back in the motel. You think we could use it against him?” a feminine voice would interject from over your shoulder, her tone sounding equally as confused if not more. The faint breeze carried her scent as she approached - a seductive musk mixed in with oud that you could swear only Faith wore. A side glance would confirm her identity to you - Nerissa, with her white halter dress tightened up around her figure, her pink ribbon identical to yours. Hazel eyes looking ever so soft - worried, more like, as her gaze switched back and forth between Faith and the picture she was holding onto so firmly.

Having half a mind into what Faith had been thinking, even the thought of planning it scared you to your core. “That's exactly what we could do,” your lips would softly echo their thoughts, almost in a fading whisper, teeth gently biting down your lower lip in thought. “This right here is proof that even Fabletown’s finest are sick fucks.”

“That’s right,” Faith added, her rose-colored lip curling just a tad bit upwards, stepping around the room pensively as her heels clicked in a methodical rhythm. “Word gets out, no, better yet - ” she halted gently in her step, holding the picture up to the both of you as if to emphasize her point, “ - this damn thing gets out, Georgie’s fucking toast.”

A feeling of great unease lulled you in, engulfing your nerves, the faint hints of music outside the door echoing off. Something was not right. No, this was just too good to be true.

How many times had you tried to escape? To just tear that ribbon apart and not give a damn about the consequences? Begged and pleaded the owner, tried to conspire with the girls? True, now you had actual solid evidence that could get you out of there unlike all the other futile attempts - yet would it work for sure?

That was when you saw it. It took you a bit of time to connect the dots in your mind after the initial shock of seeing the explicit picture had worn off just enough - you were not sure if you were glad you could make better sense of this because apparently the deeper you tried to dive in, the uglier it got.

“Wait a minute,” you thought out loud, eyebrows furrowing. “Isn’t he a regular of - ”

“Now, now,” came the accented, dreary voice that froze you in your place and hung your words dry in your throat, “ - why the fuck is the pole empty?”

It was like someone had shot you. Not that you were entirely sure how that would feel like, or how much it would pain you to have lead lodged inside you if it did at all, but this cold and terrifying feeling that washed all over your body had to feel damn near close.

Time was bent, all three girls frozen and staring at the floor as the door creaked open while it let him in, along with the sudden burst of raunchy beats that filled the small powder room instantly. In the heat of the moment, Faith had proved to be the cunning lady she was known to be as she had managed to tuck the photo somewhere in her skirt - it was nowhere to be seen, and you certainly hoped the bastard had not taken a glimpse at what you three where hiding. She would sneak a side-eye glance at you, ready for the wrath that was to be delivered by the devil’s incarnate.

His heavy footsteps filled in the room yet stopped midway, the low eyes fixating on you - you could almost feel the fiery daggers burning into your skin from his daunting stare. Heart almost skipping out of your chest, you dared look up to meet his eyes.

“I don’t fuckin’ keep you so you can gossip with your friends in the fuckin’ dressing room, do I?” came Georgie’s mad hiss, the words spat out of his mouth as he tugged onto your wrist, dragging you on his way out of the door and into the club - into the purple and pink, crowds of nearly naked men and women with no modestly left to show, and the gleaming pole.

“C’mon, let’s fuckin’ go.”

A little wash of relief descending over you, your eyes would catch your friend’s pairs in a small, reassuring wink over your bare shoulder as you stepped out from the doorway and into the madness.

Luck, whatever that was at that point in your life, seemed to be on your side - if you had managed to hide this just a little bit longer from him, something inside you believed. Believed you would all become free from this prison, if you played your cards just right.

Yet it also told you that things could go so wrong, oh so wrong - after just one small mistake.

#bigby wolf #howlin for you #bigby wolf x reader #bigby wolf x you #twau #the wolf among us #telltale games

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endof-theline · 3 years

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Day 5- Tropetember: Accidental Confessions

Day 5 of super early Tropetember is a little late but it's a little longer to make up for it! It's the Avengers' one year of being a team party and everyone's drinking but Tony, including everyone's favourite Super Soldiers who decide flirting with Tony would be a great idea... that is until it's not.

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32394175

At first it seemed like a great idea, why wouldn’t it? A party to celebrate a year since the team formed, to celebrate everything they’ve done and everything they’ve been through together. Tony had been excited to have the whole team together and having a good time, letting loose and relaxing since Fury had given them the all clear to be off duty for the night and reassured them that SHIELD could take care of anything that popped up. Natasha, Bruce, Thor, Sam, Clint, Wanda, Vision, Steve and Bucky were all ready for a much needed day off and they were excited to have their party as well, it’s not everyday superheroes could relax. Thor even brought Asgardian drinks so that Steve, Bucky and himself could drink with everyone else.

Unfortunately for Tony, he was the only one not drinking since Bruce had decided to join in after Clint pulled out a bottle of whiskey Bruce loved and hadn’t had since before the Hulk’s creation. Tony was fine with not drinking, his friends were either tipsy or drunk but no one was being gross or weird so it was still fun even without a buzz. He smiled at Natasha who shot him a look when she realised that Tony wasn’t going to be drinking and even offered to join him, he didn’t want to drag Natasha into his own problems so he waved her off and told her to have a drink for him instead.

It had been months since Tony had decided to give up drinking and he thought he was doing amazingly well considering that had been his usual escape after practically rough missions, he found that he actually didn’t miss it that much once the majority of the withdrawal had died down. The team had been so proud of him and helped him along the way, the topic had been brought up several times leading up to tonight about them not drinking but everytime Tony waved them off with a smile.

“Tony, I just wanna say how proud I am of you” Steve said as he dropped onto the sofa beside Tony, his arm going around Tony’s shoulders and his grin looked like it hurt with how wide he was smiling “You are doing so amazing and I don’t know how it feels but I imagine tonight has been hard for you, y’know with the drinks”

“Thanks Steve, it’s not too bad since I get to see you guys having a great time” Tony smiled back up to him, that annoying feeling in his chest returned as he looked up to the drunken hero. Tony had fallen hard for the Captain and had never had the courage to act on any of it, good thing too since when they rescued Bucky it barely lasted a month before the super soldiers were dating and poor Tony just had to smile through the pain as he just as quickly fell for Bucky.

“It’s been so long since I’ve got to have a drink and not worry about anything” Steve mumbled as he let his head lol towards Tony’s and when Tony went to speak up, Steve just popped his head back up and looked around before spotting Bucky talking with Natasha “I think it was in the war, having drinks with Buck after getting him back, s’kinda the same feeling”

“Well, I’m glad you’re having a good time” Tony chuckled and tried to catch anyone’s eye to get him up and away from Steve, only managing to catch Bucky’s which he took as an invitation to come over as well “Speak of the devil”

“Aw, you talking about me, doll” Bucky teased as he sat down on the other side of Tony, leaning into him as he smiled at the pair “Nat was just telling me ‘bout the parties you used to have”

“Oh, was she?” Tony asked as he shot a glare over to redhead who just lifted her glass up to him before turning to talk to Clint with a smirk “What did she tell you?”

“She said that they were massive and usually ended up in the news” Bucky snickered as Steve started to giggle as well while Tony had to take a deep breath “She said that’s how it came out that you like men”

“That would be true” Tony nodded along, he had been planning on coming out on his own terms but had thrown a party where he was photographed kissing a few of the guys and it was immediately leaked that he had taken one of them to bed “People took pictures of me and some guys at one of my parties messing around and they forced it into the media earlier than I wanted”

Bucky and Steve’s mood shifted so fast that Tony almost got whiplash for them, they had been laughing but as soon as Tony explained what happened they grew upset and angry. Tony guessed it was a bigger deal for them to have been outed than it was for Tony, he assumed it was because of their background even though the pair were out and proud.

“Tony, I’m so sorry” Bucky suddenly seemed a lot more sober than seconds ago as guilt washed over Tony, he had completely ruined the mood for them.

“Oh it’s fine, I almost expected it to happen and besides it was years ago, pre-Iron Man times” Tony waved his hand and smiled at them, the smile faltered when neither of them smiled back at him “Seriously you guys, my life isn’t very private and that’s the way it’s always been so I’m more than used to it”

“That doesn’t make it alright, Tony” Steve stressed and had that look on his face that screamed Steve wanted to hurt everyone who had wronged him, it was a look Steve wore whenever Tony spoke about his past “Just because you’re used to it, doesn’t mean you should expect not to have privacy”

“I appreciate the disapproval Cap, but it’s fine, I’m done worrying about the press in my life” Tony lied as he kept smiling and shaking his head, praying to any Gods out there that they would drop the topic “Besides, this is a celebration, you guys should be having fun!”

“We could have some fun” Bucky purred in Tony’s ear making the genius swallow thickly, his ears going pink in an instant as Bucky’s hand landed on his knee.

“Think that comment is directed to you there, Steve” Tony chuckled as he moved to sit up but Steve’s hand tightened on his shoulder to keep him in place, Tony looked over to the blonde to see the heated look in his eyes as he smirked at Tony.

“It wasn’t, Buck and I agree” Steve’s voice was lower and deeper than usual, Tony’s eyes flicked over to Bucky and received the same heated look he got from Steve in return “Ain’t that right, Buck?”

“Mhm, don’t you wanna have some fun with us, doll?” Bucky asked as his Brooklyn accent thickened, same as Steve’s, as the pair moved to press closer and Tony tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating. Tony had had dreams that started like this, he knew where they led and he wasn’t stupid either. They were both drunk, he could smell it on their breath and see it in their flirty looks that were a little dazed or lopsided, and as much as Tony wanted this he wasn’t going to take advantage of them like this. Never like this, no matter what the papers had said when he was twenty five.

“Please don’t do this” Tony whispered as he scrunched up his eyes, he couldn’t believe he was doing this. He had wanted these men for months and would have done to hear this anytime except from right now.

“Why not? Just some harmless fun between teammates, right?” Bucky’s hand had slid to his thigh and Steve’s had snuck under his collar so his hand rested on Tony’s bare shoulder, the heat of his palm felt like it was burning him instead of comforting like it had been.

“Just don’t, not now” Tony pleaded as his eyes scanned the room, hoping that no one was taking notice so he didn’t ruin the rest of the night for everyone else. Tony couldn’t say that hearing that Bucky just thought it was ‘just some harmless fun’ as teammates didn’t sting his heart, this didn’t mean a thing to him and he was just doing it because he was drunk.

“Give us a reason, why can’t we have some fun, Tony?” Steve pressed on and Tony swore he tried, he tried so hard not to say anything, but both men were in his space and saying things Tony had dreamt of hearing, things that had comforted him in his lowest moments and he couldn’t have it and he knew it meant nothing to them.

Tony ripped himself from their grasp, standing up and whirling to face them as he snapped “BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH BOTH OF YOU!” before he realised what he had blurted out, his eyes filling with tears because of course Tony Stark can’t have a secret “Fuck, forget what I said”

Tony ran. He did what he knew best and ran, he only ran back to his workshop but he locked everything down and dived for the cot as he let himself cry out his heartbreak. He covered his ears as Steve and Bucky banged on the door and shouted at him, he wished they had just ignored him or at least didn’t want to take their anger out on him. Tony pulled the blanket over him and covered his head with it so he could try and block out everything else, the light of the arc reactor soothed him as he sobbed until he passed out with Steve and Bucky still pounding away at his door.

No one saw Tony for two days and on the third, it was hard to recognise him as the Tony they knew. Tony was dressed up in a suit, looking picture perfect with his hair styled and goatee trimmed exactly, sunglasses covered his eyes as he carried a briefcase in one hand, his knuckles almost going white with his tight grip. Natasha knew this man, she recognised him as Tony before the team, the one under Obidiah’s thumb, this was the media version of Tony Stark.

“Tony, Bucky and I nee-” Steve tried to stop him, hand outstretched and looking hurt when Tony dodged it with ease.

“No need, Cap, in a few hours I’ll be on the other side of the country. Rhodes is taking over my position as Iron Man and Pep’s handling SI over here, Fury’s agreed to it and Pepper’s not happy but hell, she’ll probably enjoy not having me be so useless” Tony held his hand out to interrupt Steve who just stared at Tony in shock, the rest of the team gathering as Tony spoke “I’m sorry for fucking up, I should have kept my mouth shut or just gone with it, I’ll see you around… well no, I won’t actually, I’m not planning on coming back”

“You can’t just leave!” Bucky protested as he came to stand beside Steve, looking equally hurt as the blonde.

“Actually I can, I am in fact, now I gotta go or I’ll miss my flight. Glad I could stick around for a year before I fucked up” Tony laughed but it was humorless and no one else was laughing with him, in fact all of them just looked sad “Cheer up, things will be better without me, you guys are always complaining about shit I do so you should be happy!”

“Tony, that’s not-, we-, you-” Steve stammered helplessly as Tony just raised an eyebrow at him questioningly, Steve and Bucky shared a look before Bucky nodded at him and suddenly Steve was there, cupping his cheeks and kissing him. Steve kissed him deeply, not caring that Tony wasn’t reacting, his hands were cupping his cheeks and his body was pressed up against Tony’s, stealing his breath away.

“Steve, what-?” Tony tried to ask but Steve stepped away for Bucky to take his place, his hands going to Tony’s hair instead and kissing him just as deep and intensely as Steve had. Tony’s body caught up as his body sagged slightly and tears came to his eyes when Bucky stepped away from him “What are you doing?”

“We love you too” Steve said and Tony’s world crashed down around him. For the last two days, Tony had convinced himself that the whole team hated him, Steve and Bucky especially, and that the world would be better off if he just disappeared.

Tony stumbled away from them, almost tripping over his own feet as he stared at the team that were all staring back at him as his reality broke. He wanted to run, he wanted to escape again so when he went to run Bucky grabbed his arm and pulled him back instead, pulling him into a hug and moving with Tony when his knees buckled and he dropped to the floor. Steve knelt down beside them and moved Tony’s glasses off his face to show the tears that were now streaming down his face, his body shaking as he tried to remember how to breathe.

“Sweetheart, take some nice deep breaths for me” Steve comforted him and wiped back the tears, only for them to be replaced seconds later “It’s alright, Tony, you’re okay”

“No I’m not, you’re meant to hate me!” Tony shouted as he pulled at his hair, frustrated that everything had changed, nothing was going to his plan and he didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t want them to hate him, but it made leaving a lot easier if that’s what they wanted from him.

“We couldn’t be farther away from it” Bucky said softly while he pushed Tony’s hands away and started to comb his fingers through Tony’s hair instead, the soft touches helping the headache that was building up but not helping his heart “We love you, and there’s no way in hell that we could hate you”

They let Tony cry himself out before trying to talk to him sensibly, just a lot of soft words and soothing touches until Tony had worn himself out from crying and was just curled into Bucky’s chest as his breathing stopped being so ragged and his heart stopped pounding quite so hard.

“We love you, Tony, and we’ll tell you everyday if we have too” Bucky whispered in his ear before Steve kissed his cheek and repeated Bucky in a whisper in his other ear, the pair not needing to look at each other to know that it was a promise that they were going to keep until Tony no longer needed to hear it from them everyday and then continuing it because they wanted to make sure Tony always knew he was loved.

It took a lot of conversations, a lot of tears, a lot of traded kisses and touches to finally persuade Tony that they weren’t lying to him, that they really did love him and that they wanted to be with him. Once Tony knew it and was feeling more secure where he stood, the change in him amazed the team since most of them had never seen him so happy. Of course there will still be bad days, but now Tony wasn’t alone and he had two soldiers to help protect him against the bad thoughts and nightmares.

Tony woke up every morning between Steve and Bucky with a kiss and a whispered confession of love, and every morning Tony blushed and whispered back:

“I love you too”

#tropetember #eotl writes #fanfiction #stuckony #Steve Rogers #Tony Stark #Bucky Barnes #accidental confession #feels

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rudysrings · 4 years

Text

Adapt or Die (Prologue)

A/N: This is a new series I’m trying out. If it’s a go then yay! If not--Well, I’ll let it fade away into nothingness then, I guess... :(

Summary/Blurb Here

SO, the main character/reader was essentially inspired by Darwin from the Marvel comics/X-men. However, I will be adapting (HAHA adapting, get it? That was totally by accident I swear) the abilities and back story to fit what I’m writing; so, die-hard Darwin fans, please know I’m not trying to misportray (is that even a word? Eh, I don’t care. I think y’all know what I mean) the original character, but I simply wanted to draw from the bomb-ass root idea of what he can do.

For those of you who don’t know who Darwin is, here’s a quick blurb from Wikipedia on what his abilities are:

Darwin has the power of "reactive evolution"; i.e., his body automatically adapts to any situation or environment he is placed in, allowing him to survive possibly anything; the exact nature and limits of his powers have not been revealed.

Examples of his powers include: gaining night-vision after a few seconds in the dark; functional gills after being submerged in water; fire-proof skin after being exposed to flame; increasing his own intelligence; converting his body into pure energy; no longer requiring oxygen after being sucked into space; morphing into a sponge when shot at with a weapon designed to destroy the subject's nervous system; and acquiring comprehension of the Shi'ar language merely by looking at written samples. His power may concern itself with more efficient methods of survival than Darwin himself might choose; for example, instead of continually increasing Darwin's powers when taking punishment from the Hulk, his body simply teleported him away from the fight.

His power can also work when dealing with non-immediately-life-threatening situations, such as rendering it impossible for Darwin to get drunk by allowing his body to process alcohol faster than humans would normally.

It’s pretty fucking cool, right? Let me know what you think. By the way, this part is pretty short because it’s the prologue, but I expect the other parts to be longer.

Oh! I almost forgot: the reader is desi :) Thanks to @parkerpeter24, who wrote an awesome Peter Parker imagine here for Holi, I felt inspired to post this WIP.

I realize that makes the writing not truly an all-inclusive one, but I thought it would be cool to bring this aspect in. Obviously, you don’t have to be desi to read it and the whole thing won’t be about being desi. Just a little background I felt like adding to the character. If you absolutely hate it... then maybe don’t read it? :) please and thank you.

Anyways! Sorry for the rambling. Enjoy and thanks for reading if you’re still here <3

Warnings: There’s for sure going to be some swearing in this series :) Also, It’s gonna be a little steamy ;-; But it’s not revolved around smut and probably won’t be all that graphic. Probably. No promises O.O Only implied sexual happenings and for once, no swear words in this part.

Words: .957 k

ON WITH IT:

You blink your eyes against the startling light that is pouring through the thin curtains. Surprised that it’s morning, you sit up quickly, looking to your side to see no one there.

Ok, so that’s two surprises in the first ten seconds of the day. We’re off to a great start today, Y/N.

You sigh, brushing your hands through your unruly turquoise hair and swinging your legs out of the bed. You slip on your jeans and look around for your shirt. The black lacy thing you had worn the night before is laying over a lamp and you quickly shuffle over to it. Your eyes flick down to the nightstand and see a flip phone. Confused, you pick it up, opening it to see a single message from a private number.

We’ll be in touch.

Your stomach drops and you hastily pull your shirt over your head and clear the hotel room. Your better judgement tells you to get rid of the phone. Toss it in a river. Run over it. Throw it into a passing car.

For some reason, against that better judgement, you tuck it into your pocket and check out of the hotel.

You remember the previous night perfectly; the alcohol that had done absolutely nothing to dull your acute senses.

You slam the shot back down on the bar counter, not even wrinkling your nose at the sharp taste of tequila that should have burned your throat.

The bartender gives you a look of obvious judgement. Next thing you know, he’s asking for your keys.

“I don’t have ’em. I walked here,” you lie.

“Wasn’t that you on the motorcycle?” There’s a smooth voice behind you and you turn to see a woman with fiery hair and an enticing smile.

“No.” You reply shortly.

She shrugs. “Hmm. I could have sworn…You know,k I always did have a thing for a woman on a motorcycle.”

She approaches the bar beside you and asks the bartender for some sort of fruity concoction.

She has an accent. Italian, maybe. It’s obviously fake. She’s doing a helluva good job of over-enunciating every single word an Italian would. However, no Italian who’s lived in London for more than a week would continue to cling to those pronunciations. So, you decide she’s either a tourist or a spy.

When you smell metal—vibranium—on her, but don’t see it, given it’s probably hidden underneath her tight-fitting clothes, you decide it’s the latter.

“Do you ride?” You asked her.

“Motorcycles? Nah. I just hang on to the one riding,” She flirts.

You finger the rim of your drink. You can hear someone speaking to her through her earpiece.

“You got her, Natasha. Close in.”

“Y/N.” You stick your hand out, unafraid.

Natasha takes it immediately, giving you a firm shake and lingering on your ring a little too long.

“Sienna.”

You can’t help but giggle out loud. Wow. She had to choose the most cliché Italian name to ever exist. You covered your outburst with a cough. “Beautiful,” you complimented her fake name.

“Classic.” She shrugged. “So, what’s a gal like you doing in a bar like this?” She asked, gesturing to how run down the area was. The bartender gave her an incredulous look, but even he probably knew the kind of reputation the place had. You had to admit that it was unkempt and clearly not maintained--not to mention the types of sleazes that seemed to frequent it.

“I could ask you the same.”

“Deflect,” said the voice in the earpiece. You furrowed your brows slightly; you could usually judge by the timbre of the voice what a person’s age was, but this one stumped you. The inflections were outdated for sure, but the man spoke like velvet, far too young to be using that old-time Brooklyn accent.

“You first,” Natasha pushed.

Shrugging, you replied, “It’s more low-key, don’t you think? Wouldn’t want to run into anyone I know when I’m clearly trying to escape the real world right now.”

The bartender slid over her drink in a cocktail glass and Natasha took hold of it, taking a sip and staining the edge of the glass a deep burgundy. “And what exactly has the real world done this time?” She asked.

You smacked your lips thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s more about what the real world hasn’t done this time. Or maybe about what it did the other time.”

“Oh,” Natasha said simply.

“Can you get her somewhere alone, Nat?” The wannabe 40s Brooklyn man in the ear piece asked.

You smiled, showing your teeth. “How would you feel about helping me escape the real world a little bit more, Sienna?”

She moved closer, brushing your elbow. “Y/N, are you suggesting we get out of here?”

You were a couple of inches taller than her and you leaned over, close enough that locks of your ocean hair brushed her forehead. “What I’m suggesting is that I know a hotel with nice sheets not too far from here.”

Natasha smirked. “Nice work, Romanoff.”

Romanoff? Sounds more Russian than Italian, you thought.

It wasn’t the first time that somebody had attempted to con you, be it for information or for money. You didn’t mind the game. So, you let it happen. Undeniably, you enjoyed the spy’s touch and the numbing feel of her pillowy lips on yours.

However, you did not expect to fall asleep. That had never happened before. Your body didn’t do that. Your body never failed to do something that would strengthen you. You had never, not once, fallen asleep in the presence of another.

That scared you.

You had been careless.

You straightened your shoulders as you walked out onto the streets of Southwest London. No big deal, you just had to be a bit more careful now.

я иду за тобой Natasha Romanoff.

A/N: я иду за тобой = I’m coming for you (Russian)

(I used google translate, which is probably wrong; so, if anyone catches a mistake in that, please let me know, and I will change it :) )

*PSST*: Isn’t Natasha so fucking stunning in that picture on my sucky ass moodboard? Those eyes? That barely there smile? I’m melting.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x enhanced!reader #natasha romanoff x darwin!reader #female!darwin!reader #desi!reader #natasha romanoff x desi!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x enhanced!reader #avengers x enhanced!reader #avengers x reader #avengers x desi!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x enhanced!reader #enhanced!reader #marvel x reader #marvel x enhanced!reader #marvel series #darwin #marvel's darwin

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nothingbutfangirlsmut · 4 years

Text

The Girl Out of Time

Pairing: Bucky x Reader and Sam x Reader

Background: Willow Roffe was born and raised in Brooklyn. She lived her life as happily as she could with her two childhood best friends Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. When they both left her to join the military she tried to continue with life but that didn't get to happen for her for the simple fact that she meant something to James Buchanan Barnes.

Rating: Story will be overall MATURE but not every chapter. There will be strong language, talk of both mental and physical abuse, some good ole angst, and smut. There will be a warning at the beginning of the chapter when it includes smut.

Chapter 27

After we were cuffed they put James in a large truck by himself. The four of us were put inside a van. I sat next to Sam with T’Challa and Steve in front of us. My knee bounced as I chewed on my lip. What were they going to do to James? They would kill him for the smallest reason.

"So, you like cats?" Sam asked T’Challa.

"Sam" Steve warned.

"What? Dude shows up dressed like a cat, you don't wanna know more?" Sam asked him.

"Your suit... it's vibranium?" Steve asked the king.

T’Challa slowly turned his head to look at my friend. It was like he was studying him for a few seconds before he looked forwards again.

"The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations. A mantle, passed from warrior to warrior. And now, because your friend murdered my father I also wear the mantle of King. So, I ask you as both warrior and King, how long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?"

A shiver ran down my spine. He spoke slowly punctuating everything he said. He made sure we all knew exactly what he was saying. It was a threat. Even though I'm a super soldier I was still nervous with this guy.

When the van came to a stop we were unchained then let out of the van. The first thing I noticed was the glass prison they had strapped James into. There had to be something we could do to help him. I followed Steve over to Sharon who was standing with an unknown shorter man.

"What's gonna happen to him?" Steve asked.

"Same thing that ought to happen to you. Psychological evaluation and extradition." The man said.

"This is Everett Ross. Deputy Task Force Commander." Sharon informed us.

"What about a lawyer?" Steve asked Everett.

The man chuckled dryly.

"Lawyer. That's funny." He told Steve then turned away.

"See their weapons are placed in lock up. We'll write you a receipt." He added.

"I better not look out the window and see anybody flying around in that." Sam warned stepping forward.

I grabbed his arm stopping him from doing anything stupid. I glanced back at James who was already looking at me. I have to help him. Sam grabbed my hand wrapping his fingers with mine. He tugged gently pulling my attention back to him and away from James. I let Sam pull me with him as we followed the group into the actual building.

"You'll be provided with an office instead of a cell. Now, do me a favor, stay in it?" Everett said from his place next to T’Challa.

"I don't intend on going anywhere." T’Challa said in a slow determined voice.

Nat appeared next to Steve as we walked. She definitely looked irritated.

"For the record, this is what making things worse looks like." She said quietly.

"He's alive" Steve said simply.

I had to agree with Steve's simple point. If we didn't interfere James would most definitely be dead. Neither of us could have lived with that guilt. With that loss. Not for the second time.

We entered what looked like a command room with a few offices surrounded by glass walls. I could hear Tony speaking loudly as soon as we entered.

"Colonel Rhodes is supervising cleanup." Tony said into his phone.

"Try not to break anything while we fix this." Nat told us then walked away.

"Consequences? You bet there'll be consequences. Obviously you can quote me on that, because I just said it. Anything else? Thanks you, sir." Tony hung up the phone then stepped towards Nat.

"Consequences?" Steve asked him.

"Secretary Ross wants you three prosecuted. Had to give him something." Tony shrugged.

Steve sighed.

"I'm not getting that shield back, am I?" Steve asked.

I think we all already knew the answer to that.

"Technically, it's the government's property. Wings, too." Nat said over her shoulder.

I was silently glad I had nothing for them to take from me.

"That's cold" Sam said.

"Warmer than jail." Tony retorted.

Tony pulled Steve to the side while Sam and I were shown to our "office". Once we were closed inside we couldn't hear a thing going on outside the glass walls. We both sat down at the table.

"How you doing?" Sam asked softly.

"I've been better." I told him honestly.

"You worried about him?" He asked.

"Of course I am. I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. Something bad is going to happen." I explained.

"I think all the bad already happened Will." He said quietly.

"No, no, this is something else. Something to do with James." I shook my head.

Sam sighed.

"You saw what he is locked in. I think he's the safest out of all of us right now." Sam said in a bitter tone.

I stood from my seat just as Steve walked into the room.

“I know you’re not happy about this situation but I can’t change it. My past with James is important. I know you don’t like it but please just try to understand.” I told him softly.

Steve walked to the end of the room to watch out the glass. He was staring at all the monitors that a group had started to form in front of.

“They’re about to do Bucky’s evaluation.” Steve said crossing his arms over his chest.

“So we get to watch it?” I asked coming to stand next to him.

“No. The sound is cut off in here. All we can do is stare at those monitors.” Steve said bitterly.

I stood next to my beat friend as the monitors on the other side of the glass showed James still strapped in to the glass cell. A desk sat a few feet in front of him where a man sat down with papers in his hands.

The door to the room opened as Sharon walked inside. She closed the door behind her then stepped over to Sam.

“The receipt for your gear.” She said handing him a piece of paper.

“Bird costume? Come on.” Sam said in irritation.

“I didn’t write it.” Sharon sounded exasperated.

She walked to the end of the table then glanced around the room. She quickly pushed a button on the device on the table. The small screen next to Steve lit up showing us Bucky.

“I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?” The man asked in a thick accent.

James just stared at him.

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, James.” He said softly.

“My name is Bucky.” James told him.

Steve turned away from the TV to stand next to the table. I kept my eyes on the screen.

“Why would the task force release this photo to begin with?” Steve asked from behind me.

“Get the word out, involve as many eyes as we can?” Sharon said like a question.

I kept my eyes on Bucky but listened to the conversation behind me.

“Right. It’s a good way to flush a guy out of hiding. Set off a bomb. Get your picture taken. Get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier.” Steve explained.

“You’re saying someone framed him to find him?” Sharon asked in disbelief.

“Steve, we looked for the guy for two years and found nothing.” Sam said flatly.

“We didn’t bomb the UN.” I said turning around to face them.

“That turns a lot of heads.” Steve added.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t guarantee that whoever framed him would get him. It guarantees that we would.” Sharon said.

Sharon, Steve, and I all shared the same look the next second.

“Yeah” Steve breathed out.

Somethings wrong. Somethings not right at all.

“Tell me, Bucky. You’ve seen a great deal, haven’t you?” The man asked Bucky bringing my attention back to the screen.

Something about this situation is wrong.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” James said through clenched teeth.

“You fear that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. Don’t worry. We only have to talk about one.” The man’s voice turned sinister.

A chill went down my spine. It’s him. That man is what’s wrong. Before I could say anything the power went out leaving us all standing in darkness. The feed to James cut off.

“Steve” I said in complete fear.

“Sub-level five, east wing.” Sharon said quickly.

Without hesitation the three of us took off as fast as we could. We had to get to Bucky. I had to get to him.

—

#nothingbutfangirlsmut #fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson fanfiction #sam x reader #sam wilson #the girl out of time

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creationcitystreet-em · 3 years

Text

His Southern Belle 1

Masterlist Full book 1 summary in the link

Chapter 1

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC (face claim: Rose Leslie)

Word count: ~2450

Summary: Maddi starts her new school in Brooklyn and meets some new friends.

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: I started this fic when I was still in high school, and I have worked really hard on it since. I’m not a fan of some of my writing from earlier chapters, but I don’t want to change them until I at least finish writing the entire story. I will be updating this fic here on tumblr one chapter a day until I am caught up with where I am at on the other platforms I’ve posted it. If you’d like to read ahead of that schedule, you can check them out on from the links on my masterlist. I just also wanted to make the fic available here on tumblr with the rest of my fandom interactions, so this is the plan to do that!

Unless otherwise indicated, all date entries are from Maddi’s POV.

September 5, 1932

I stood in front of the small class while my new teacher introduced me. I was in my best knee length dress trying to make the best first impression but I quickly realized the style in my hometown was very different from that of teenagers in New York. The girls seemed to have a little more money than my family as they wore nicer clothes and styled their hair to the newest fashion. My long red curls were probably a little too messy and I didn't wear the same socks and shoes as the them. I tried not to show how uncomfortable I felt when our teacher asked me to say my name to the class. I smiled and said "My name is Madeline Bennett, but my Mama and Daddy called me Maddi." I immediately heard laughter from the students and it made me feel twice as self conscious. It must be my accent, people in Brooklyn definitely sounded different than those in Tennessee. As soon as the teacher let me sit, I chose the only empty seat next to small and skinny boy with blond hair. He smiled at me but it was not cruel like the other kids when I walked to my seat, so I gave a small smile back.

During lunch, I sat alone until I heard the sound of a boy talking in front of me, "hey new girl, you know I can show you around if you want. I know some great places we can sneak off to together." I politely declined as I could tell his intentions did not seem innocent. He continued to push "Come on, look I know a lot of people laughed at you in class, but I can keep you safe baby doll. Once you're with me, nobody will be laughing." I immediately looked back down at my food trying to ignore the group of boys as they snickered behind the nameless boy who talked to me. I could tell this was probably a trick considering they were clearly still mocking me like before, and I just wanted to be left alone. I tried to hold back tears as I thought about how much I wished I could go back home with my family. I didn't want to be in Brooklyn hundreds of miles away from the only home I ever knew. I didn't want make new friends or learn how to live with a new family I barely knew. I wanted my safe little town where everyone knew who I was and nobody would dare pick on me unless they wanted my brother going after them. I missed my brother more than I ever would have admitted to him.

Just then, two more boys came to my table and I thought it would only get worse. "Leave her alone Jason, she clearly doesn't want to talk to you right now," the smaller of the two said. I now recognized him as the boy I sat next to in class.

"Alright Rogers, what are you going to do to stop me?" It was a fair questions, the boy was half a foot smaller than Jason and clearly much skinnier than the already developing teen.

"Listen Gally, I know you can see me standing right next to Steve here so you clearly should know when to keep your mouth shut. Now the lady said no earlier so I think you should respect her wishes and take your friends and leave." Jason Gally stared at the taller boy, who looked more like a man, and finally decided to leave. I continued to remain frozen in place after everything that happened, until I saw the two that helped me start to walk away as well.

"Wait!" I called to them as I wanted to tell them I appreciated what they did. They turned around and looked at me and I gathered up all the courage I had left to keep talking despite knowing they will clearly hear my accent. "Thank you for that. I got your name, Steve, but I didn't really catch yours," I said to the taller one.

"James Barnes, but everyone calls me Bucky."

"Well Bucky, Steve, thank you again."

"It was no problem, Maddi right?" Steve questioned to make sure he remembered my name correctly. I was pleasantly surprised and nodded my head yes.

I took a leap of faith and suddenly asked, "would y'all like to sit with me?" They stared at me for a second and I tried to explain myself quickly, "It's just that I'm new and don't have any friends yet. You two were so kind to stand up for me and I just wanted to know if maybe you would want to sit with me." I prayed I didn't just scare the two nice people in front of me off, but then they looked at each other and sat down across the table from me. I started to smile as they began to ask me about where I was from and why I moved to Brooklyn. "I'm from Tennessee, and I moved here to live with my Aunt and Uncle. They're the only family I really have left." they stayed quiet knowing I didn't want to go too deep into that subject just yet. The two nodded and didn't push anymore about it. I was very grateful for that.

It was towards the end of lunch and Steve said "Well Maddi, I'm glad we met you. Bucky is a year older than us but we still hang out after school. Where do you live, maybe we can walk home together?" I told them the general area I moved to and they both eagerly said they lived near there. We made plans to meet after school and for a brief second I thought that maybe moving to the big city wouldn't have been as terrible as I initially thought. I wished I could be back home, but knowing that I would never get to go back, having a couple friendly people here was the best I could ask for.

September 24, 1932

“How has school been going, Maddi?” Aunt Lily asked as I ate dinner with her and Uncle Ryan.

“Alright. I made a couple friends, but I don’t really seem to fit in with the class. They dress and talk different than back home.” I played with my food a bit while I thought about how the last couple weeks have been. Steve and Bucky were definitely very nice to call friends and I liked spending time with them, but girls still gave me strange looks and boys would bother me if I wasn’t with my new companions.

“Well, our neighbors have a granddaughter on the other side of town about a year or two older than you. I’ll see if she has any extra dresses you can have,” Aunt Lily offered. I knew she and Uncle Ryan felt bad for not having enough money to spend on me, but I really didn’t mind. With their two children already grown and moved across the country, they didn’t exactly plan to pay for an extra mouth to feed. Times were hard enough as it was without unexpected expenses. I never actually met these family members before: we never had the money to travel, but I heard about them a lot.

September 30, 1932

I wore my new dress that seemed to match more with the girls at school and it made me feel a little less nervous, but I also felt sad to be giving up more and more from my life in Tennessee. I sat with Steve and Bucky at lunch like I did everyday, and we talked about frivolous things until I asked Steve what was in the book he always carried around.

“It’s a sketch pad, I like to draw,” he said shyly.

“Can I see?” I asked and he hesitantly handed me his sketch pad and I flipped through the pages in awe. Each piece of paper had beautifully drawn pictures of buildings and landscapes. He had a few with people, but one close up of a young woman and man who looked in their early 20s. “Who are they?” I curiously questioned.

“That’s my parents,” he said quietly. “It’s from a picture when they were newly married. I don’t really remember my dad, he died in the Great War.”

“I’m sorry,” I said hoping I didn’t make him feel sad as I knew how it felt to lose a parent. “I lost my ma when I was young too, not as young but still I was 5 when she got sick.”

“Is that why you moved?” Bucky asked me.

“No, I still lived with my daddy and brother, Alex, until this summer when a storm hit and they both died. I was with a friend when it hit and a tornado took down my entire house and my family inside.”

“Jeez, I’m sorry Maddi,” Steve said as I fought back a few tears thinking about what happened.

“Don’t worry about it. I was lucky to have Aunt Lily and Uncle Ryan to take me when they heard, and now I got to meet you two so that’s good I guess.” I tried to look towards the better things in situations but it was always hard.

“Well, you’re officially our friend so there’s no getting out of it now,” Bucky said with a smirk.

“Only now it’s official? What has been the last month then?” I asked with a laugh.

“A trial friendship,” Steve stated smiling.

“Yeah, just to make sure you weren’t crazy or anything” said Bucky.

“I’m glad y’all think I’m worthy of being your friend then!” I winked at them as I continued the joke. We all laughed as we finished our food and headed back to class for the day.

December 24, 1932

“The snow is so beautiful on Christmas,” I sighed as I walked through the park with Steve and Bucky like we sometimes did together.

“It sure is, but I’ve always wanted to see snow where there were no buildings in sight. Just miles of it with nothing else to mess the blanket of white up,” Steve told me as we saw children running through the already played in snow.

“That is a sight to see, but I think that's just wasted? Look at how happy all this available snow makes everyone, that’s something worth drawing.” I said this as I knew that was one of the reasons he probably liked the idea of untouched snow: to be able to draw the scene. “Draw me and Bucky!”

“What?” Bucky questioned, not sure what he had to do with this topic.

“Draw us playing in the snow,” I requested with a smile. Bucky quickly got the idea and ran towards a clean pile. He made a snowball and threw it directly at me hitting me on the shoulder. “Alright Barnes, you have it coming to you now!” and I laughed while I ran to make a snowball as well except I missed when throwing it at him. He laughed at me until I made another and hit him square in the face. I heard a chuckle from Steve and I looked over at him sitting on a nearby bench watching us and making small rough sketches in his book. “Come one Steve, put it to memory and come play with us!” He looked slightly surprised for a second until he put his book down and came over to join our snowball fight. We did this for about an hour until we sat down on the bench to rest. Steve quickly went right back to his book to continue his scene he started on. We sat in silence for a while just taking in the day.

“What are your holiday plans, Maddi?” Bucky asked.

“I’m not sure. We haven’t really talked about it. We’ll probably go to Mass tonight and I got a small present for my aunt and uncle tomorrow. I don’t really expect much of a present for myself; besides, my favorite part has always been Christmas Eve Mass. My daddy and Alex and I would go and then always visit mama after. I guess I can’t see any of them this year since their all buried in Tennessee.” I had never really thought of that until now and it quickly took away all of my joy from playing in the snow before. “They would have liked you guys,” I added before they could reply. “You're both gentlemen and passionate about what you care for.”

“They’d like Bucky,” Steve tried to clarify as he continued to draw.

“No, they’d like you both,” I told him with confidence. “Especially you, your heart is much more kind than this silly guy sitting next to me,” I laughed as I sat between them and gestured towards Bucky.

“Hey!” Bucky said with a smile. “Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to say it!” Steve just stayed quiet and had a slight blush on his face.

I put my arms around both their necks and said “thank you for making Brooklyn more bearable.”

“You did that,” Steve said as he looked at me and I smiled back at him.

December 25, 1932

There was a knock on the door and I went to answer it. When I opened the door, Steve stood there waiting and I gave him a surprised smile. “Hey,” he started. “I know today is mostly spending with family so I’ll try to be quick. I just wanted to give you your present.”

“Steve, you didn’t have to get me anything!” I began to feel bad as I had nothing to give in return.

“It’s nothing, here.” He handed me a piece of paper and I saw it was a beautiful drawing of Bucky and I in the snow from the previous day. I just stared at it for a few seconds in awe before he continued, “Sorry it isn’t that detailed, I was trying to finish as quick as I could and the shading might not be-” I cut him off by hugging him.

“I love it!” I said as he wrapped his arms back around me. “I love the art you make, it’s so good. Thank you for giving me one, it really means a lot.” We both let go and and he was redder than I had ever seen him before.

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a chuckle. We then said our goodbyes and he went back home to spend the rest of the day with his mother.

Next Chapter

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turdblossommm · 4 years

Text

Marry Me {12}

Summary: Bucky and the reader are hopelessly in love with their best friends who are getting married, where the pair first meet. Will there friendship turn into something more or will it crash and burn?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

A/N: Thank you everyone for reading and thank you even more for following! So I’ll post a double update in honor of 500 followers!

part eleven // masterlist

“Come on!” Bucky begged you as you picked up your apartment that you’ve neglected for the holiday season “It’s going to be fun, we do this every year” He smiled

“I always do New Years by myself” You smiled

“So you’re telling me you’ve never been kissed when the ball drops?” You shook your head and he groaned “Then you’re defiantly coming with me”

“Nope” You threw his underwear that was handing off the side of your couch at him

“Please Clint and Nat will be there”

“Even more of a reason to not go” You smiled

“You’re mean” He pouted “You used to be nice”

“I like getting older” You smiled “I feel like I’m finally aging into my personality” You smirked and he rolled his eyes

“Please” He whispered “I haven’t had to face them on my own yet” You sighed and dropped your laundry

“All long as were plastered by mid night” You wrap your arms around is middle and smile up at him

“That is something I can promise” He kissed your nose

“You want to drive my car?” You asked and smiled as Bucky’s eye lit up

“You mean it?” You nodded as you tossed him the keys. Watching him get in the car and the smile on his face on made your stomach drop. Could you handle this? You like him past what you’re supposed to like him as. You were falling hard for Bucky Barnes and there was nothing to catch you except him.

Bucky has always been there for you since the wedding, and a huge part of you wants him to always be there. But there’s this amazing friendship you’ve formed with him and you weren’t sure of you were ready to give it up for unrequited feelings.

“You coming or what?” His Brooklyn accent broke you out of your thoughts

“Calm down bud” You smiled as you slid in the passenger seat and queued your ‘road trip’ playlist. Come and Get Your Love by Redbourn came on and a smile grew on your face as Bucky hit his head on the back of his chair

“No” He groan

“Come and get your love” You sang horrible and loudly and after many loud and out of tune song Bucky finally joined you as you approached the cabin in Montauk that they apparently always go to as a tradition

“Welcome to cabin number seven, the only one we could afford in college” He flashed you a smile

“Y/N I’m so glad you decided to come” Peggy hugged you and you smiled

“Bucky was going to drag me by my hair if I didn’t come” You rolled your eyes as Bucky pulled your jacket off. The cabin was small but cozy, there was a small fire place in the living room with faded green shag carpet and a tiny kitchen to match.

“So we try to do a cajun boil every year and it always ends in shitty pizza” Veronica smiled

“Really?” You smiled “Are we going to this year?” You asked

“Yes, we try every year and hope that we get it” Peggy smiled

“Then we better get to the pier to get everything before the good stuffs gone” Steve entered the kitchen with Sam and Bucky behind him

“And we will when Clint and Nat get here” Peggy kissed his cheek and you groaned internally, you don’t want to see Clint, or Natasha for that matter. You were still pretty mad from Christmas

“Y/N could I talk to you?” You turned to Steve and you nodded and followed him to the sitting room

“What’s up Steve?” You asked while crossing your arms

“I want to apologize for what I said on Halloween, I’ve been meaning to do it for awhile now” He paused “I see the way he is with you and it’s good for him”

“No worries, I was quiet nasty back if I remember” You smiled

“Y/N he likes you. I’ve seen him follow Natasha like a lost puppy for years and I’ve seen him date other girls, but he’s different with you. I know you guys are just friends or whatever you’re calling it, but you’re good for him” Your mouth had suddenly gone dry

“He’s good for me too Steve” You met his eyes and he smiled and pat you on the shoulder before walking back into the kitchen. In that moment you decided when you get back to the city you were going to call the agreement off, you’re too far in his life and he’s in yours deep. Your head was swimming and you were snapped out of your thoughts by Peggy yelling your name

“Clint and Nat are here! Lets go” Her accent rang out and you walked into the kitchen, avoiding Clint’s pleading glances. Steve and Peggy joined you and Bucky in your car to the pier, Steve drooled over the car for most of the ride while you felt like you were suffocating.

“Alright let divide and concur” Steve looked at the group

“Nat and Clint you guys get the drinks. Booze, beer, and champagne” He turned to Sam “You two get the veggie” He turned to you and Bucky “Get the meat and Pegs and I will get the seasonings” Steve smiled

“Aye aye Captain” Bucky mock saluted his best friend and everyone split off to get their respected items. You and Bucky walked down to the little butcher shop, you felt at home as the smell of meat enter you nose, distracting you from your inner turmoil.

“My dad used to bring us to a butcher shop like this when we were kids” You smiled as you gazed at the assorted meats, nostalgia hitting you like a ton of bricks. Bucky smiled as you walked down memory lane, he had a feeling this would be one of the few times he’d get you on your own this weekend. Your number was called and you walked up to the counter and smiled at the middle aged man helping you

“I’ll have six pounds of your 21/25 count shrimp”

“Six pounds?” Bucky looked at you

“You and Steve eat like you’re never going to see food again” You teased

“Anything else?” The man asked

“I’ll also take three pounds of andouille please” Bucky carried the bag out of the shop as you two walked down the pier towards where you’re supposed to regroup. Natasha caught sight of the pair walking towards the pier, noticing Bucky’s smile. Had he ever smiled at her like that? Like she was the only person in the world?

Clint glared as you walked dangerously close to Barnes. Clint can’t decided why he’s never liked Bucky, maybe because he’s friends with Nat. But then again Clint’s never liked any of the guys that you’ve dated. Clint was still hung up on the ranch, why would you take Bucky and never him?

“Hey guys” Steve and Peggy met up with Clint and Nat just before you and Bucky made it to the small group

“Anyone heard from Sam and Ronnie?” Steve looked around as you felt Clint burn holes in the side of your head

“We’re right here” Sam and Veronica finally made it back and he group went back to the cabin. Once you got back the girls took over the kitchen while the boys helped every now and them. You dumped the shrimp in the sink while Sam and Ronnie worked on the veggies. Peggy and Steve were arguing over boiling the water outside or inside. Clint cut the sausage while Natasha watched

You looked up to Bucky who rolled up his sleeves in attempt to help you de-vane the shrimp. You showed him to peal off the shell and make a small cut and scoop the poop and intestines out.

“How did you learn to do that?” Peggy asked

“When we were hurting for money when I was a kid and my dad was in Alaska, we’d caught shrimp for dinner”

“That’s so cool” Steve muttered

“You should see this halibut she caught” Bucky bragged and pulled out his phone

“No Bucky” You giggled knowing what picture he was talking about

“Yes, it’s adorable” He continued to swipe through his pictures, Natasha tried to ignore a few risqué pictures she saw. You saw the picture and groaned, it was from when you were eight and you had both of your front teeth missing and hand-me down waiters. He continued to swipe through all your pictures

“My ma takes on every year of all of us” You shook your head looking down at the one from the trip you met Clint one. Frank stood next to you with a 500 pound halibut handing behind the pair of you. Bucky locked his phone but Clint didn’t miss the background picture of you from Thanksgiving.

“That’s some deadliest catch shit” Sam laughed while you threw the shrimp in the pot and everyone started adding their own ingredients. Bucky handed you a beer before pouring you a shot of tequila for everyone out on the patio.

“Shot gun?” You nodded and he pulled out your keys and you poked the can with your teeth and chugged the beer. You coughed while laughing with Bucky

“I haven’t done that since college” He chuckled

“That’s a weekend at my cousin’s house” You laughed while Natasha and Clint watched, both brooding over the happier pair outside.

TAGLIST: @hailqueenconquer @2ptonpt

#bucky #Buck #Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #Winter Solider #winter solider imagine #winter solider x reader #winter solider fanfiction #marvel #Marvel AU #Avengers #avengers au

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tjlikesprettythings · 4 years

Text

Random Brightwell Scene I wrote while listening to “Sleeping Alone” by Lykke Li under quarantine

For some reason the text didn’t save the first time, so another attempt! Also sorry for not putting read more break, apparently that doesn’t exist on the mobile app, and you can’t edit app post on desktop. 🤦🏽‍��️

I recommend listening to the song during the dancing bit, it’s linked below. k, thanks! :D

The Brooklyn rooftop bar where the summer get-together was being held was all industrial-chic, large metal lamps hanging from chains and exposed pipes, spruced up by rooftop trees or potted plants, decked out with lights and greenery, wood accents and wicker lounge settes and chairs scattered prettily with cozy neutral cushions. The lower New York skyline surrounded by the East River and the Brooklyn Bridge was the view as the sun sat lower in the horizon, true hipster haven. Not what he pictured when he was invited by Gil. Apparently, an annual thing major crimes did together. He scanned the area and found familiar faces.

Edrisa looked happy chatting away with some techs from her team. His eyes drifted to JT and Tally whispering to each other making each other smile, then there she was rolling her eyes with a smile at their affections.

She wore a delicate cap-sleeved red summer dress peppered with small white daisy detail that ended around her knees, it fit her form perfectly, the arches of her breasts encased subtly. A pair of sandy-colored boots that ended at her ankles. Her curls seemed even fuller tonight, those dainty gold necklaces and rings completed the look as her sunkissed skin seem to glow. She looked different from her usual office attire, she looked relaxed, almost carefree.

She was enchanting. He felt that similar thump to his chest, his mouth felt dry, and suddenly he didn’t know if coming tonight was a good idea. It was the warm hand on his shoulder that jolted him from his thoughts and he tore his eyes away from her to turn to see Gil standing next to him with two beers in his hand and a smile on his face.

He knew how everyone around him led fairly normal lives, but seeing everyone here just being calm and normal enjoying each other’s company, the warm summer air, the music, and harmonious chatter made him feel almost out of place. It all felt unattainable and surreal.

“Here Kid, you look like you need a drink,” Gil said patting his shoulder. Malcolm realized that while he was a gifted profiler, Gil had experience and age on him. He chuckled softly and took the offered beer bottle and took a swig.

“Thanks,” he scanned the crowd again, “this a good turn out, everyone seems to be having a good time.”

Gil nodded looking around proud of the setup. “It’s not often that we get to take a break and have a moment to just enjoy life and be grateful that we have it. These moments, they’re what keeps us from losing it when you see continuous horror.”

“I get that,” he said taking another sip of his beer, he did get it, but it was so different from what he was used to. Was there ever going to be enough moments where the horrors that he lived with daily dissipate?

“You just have to allow yourself to let some light and good in,” Gil said as if reading his thoughts. “For a start, I’m glad you came, whatever the reason maybe.” With that, he walked away and engage a group of officers, Malcolm smiled quietly to himself, of course, Gil would pick on it. He wasn’t exactly hiding the fact that he drifted to her in any given situation.

He walked over to where Dani, JT, and Tally stood, one hand tucked into his casual linen trousers, the other holding the beer, letting the coolness ground him to reality. He decided to leave his Bond villain white stripe ensemble at home this time, opting for the white trousers and a light blue chambray shirt. He could hear Tally sharing something about marrying strangers.

“It’s crazy, these girls are just marrying dudes that they spoke to through walls? Asked JT.

“Well yeah, the whole point is that love is blind. It’s not what you see but feel.” Tally said. “Malcolm, what do you think?” Tally reminded him of Jackie sometimes, wholesome and inclusive.

“Uh…”

Before he could start JT intervened with a “that seems dumb, reality tv is such a scam,”

Tally playfully smacked JT’s arm, “I asked Malcolm!”

Dani snickered softly at the couples exchange, her eyes drifting to Malcolm often. He looked so casual, summery even. She supposed this is what he wore to go to the Hamptons to lounge around his family’s summer house. It was both easy and hard to forget that Malcolm came from money. She didn’t expect him to come, but couldn’t help but be happy he did.

“Ow, woman!” JT laughed. “Alright Bright! Enlighten us!”

“Malcolm!” Edrisa bounced over and smiled her full-on Colgate smile at him.

“Edrisa, Malcolm is about to tell us what’s important physical attraction or personality” Tally filled her in.

“Well, we like to think of romantic feelings as spontaneous and indescribable things that come from the heart. But it's actually your brain running a complex series of calculations within a matter of seconds that's responsible for determining attraction,” he started and right away the group responded. JT groaned, Edrisa bounced in agreement, Tally nodded her head in fascination and Dani rolled her eyes.

He continued “in fact, all five senses play a role, each able to vote for or veto, a budding attraction,”

“That why when someone smells amazing, you feel that jolt?” asked Tally excitedly,

“Exactly, all of these things determine whether a person will be a suitable fertile partner, we’re quite primitive. So I suppose that if you were to take away the biological needs and put them in a situation where it was a matter of intellectual and emotional compatibility a person could grow fonder, but I think the physical attraction is also important.”

“Says every guy ever,” mumbled Dani.

“What do you think Dani? Would you date a guy for looks or personality?” Tally asked grinning.

Dani curved her lips to the side and rolled her eyes, “I think personality is important, I mean he can look like Idris Elba but that won’t save him if we can’t have a decent conversation.”

“But would you be able to be with him if he were disfigured?” Malcolm challenged.

“I like to think I’m not superficial, if I connected with him emotionally, don’t know that it would bother me.” she threw back. “Besides, good looking guys can be damaged too, doesn’t mean they are throwaways or keepers.”

The tension fizzled in the air as Dani defiantly stared Malcolm down. It was the clearing of throats that broke them from their wordless conversation.

“Think I’ll go grab us more drinks,” Edrisa grinned avoiding the tension on the raise, she liked Malcolm but Dani was scary.

Dani’s lopsided grin and Malcolm’s full-on smile told the group they were gearing up to have another productive banter session, something that seemed to be happening a lot lately as JT told Tally in passing while talking about his day, to which she pressed her lips together and nodded knowingly and commented that it was probably sexual tension. JT watched his colleagues with squinted eyes, maybe Tally was right?

“Ok, before this gets out of control, let me take this beautiful woman dancing,” JT took his wife’s hands and dragged her to the dancefloor in the center of the bar. It was getting to be that time of the night when everyone was slowly getting intoxicated, the twilight was setting in the bustling lights from the city was becoming more prominent making for an even more spectacular ambiance. While the summer breeze brought liveliness.

“It’s a good thing, Diaz’s brother is the manager here, couldn’t have gotten a better venue,” Dani stated suddenly, stirring her drink, bobbing her head to the music.

“Yea, it’s nice,” he said in agreement, trying not to let her scent distract him. What was it jasmine and yalang yalang?

“I’m sure you’ve seen better parties” she smiled, “debutante balls, galas, and whatnot.”

He chuckled, “oh yea, that’s the norm, everyone was clamoring to invite the serial killer family to parties.”

She looked at him then, every so often she was reminded of the full implications of what Martin Whitley’s actions did to his family. That even with the prominence, there were social isolations that were stricter for his class of people. She hated the pain behind his self deprecating humor.

“You should give Edrisa a dance, you’ll make her night and it is a party.”

He smiled softly, “Yea, I guess so.” rubbing the back of his neck, she knew how to level off. Knew how to defuse him.

Dani laughed softly and honestly, he wished he could hear it more. “Live a little Bright, if you’re gonna lose sleep, might as well have a bit of fun doing it.”

“How can I get used to How can I forget you Will I get used to Sleeping alone”

Live a little, why not? He should, he should let himself have moments. Moments that will shield him from the loneliness, from the dark. Moments where he can have a fighting chance. As his brain worked through this for a few seconds, his eyes caught Jackson walking towards them with a purpose, a smile on his face for Dani. Officer Adam Jackson who shamelessly flirted with Dani, who smiled at her constantly and lingered around her desk or at the break room. The occasions when she paid Jackson a bit of attention, brought an unpleasant taste to his mouth. Malcolm didn’t know what happened next but it became a blur of movements. He saw Jackson stop and stare in their direction.

“Tomorrow is a long time Forgetting so long I loved you a lifetime I loved you long”

He took her hand slowly pulling her closer, eyes on her, the music wafted through them, around them. His name almost spilled from her lips in protest but caught at the back of her throat, instead, her hands fell around his shoulders. She let him lead her, her mind drifted to that night when he was so high he ran towards her and swept her up in his arms. Lips curving to a smile, that was the night they decided to be friends, the night she decided to try to trust him. She swayed with him, the words of the song pulling at something within her.

“Someday, somehow Somewhere down the line If you save your heart for mine We'll meet again, we'll meet again-”

She wasn’t emotional, she felt things deeply but kept it close to her heart, she felt like she needed to do that to keep herself together. Then one day Malcolm Bright came charging in erratically just bouncing against those walls until they started to fracture until the cracks started to show and she couldn’t hide from him. Even when she wished he wouldn’t see her, or find her, there he was. “You had some more coke explode in your face that I don’t know about?” she asked with a smile.

He breathed in her scent, felt her solid and warm against him. He could feel his own heart racing. She did things to him, honestly, he could be high at this moment but just from her. He smiled, “I think we both know that wouldn’t end well, but I figured friends can dance with each other right?”

Friends, the word floated between them for a moment. Lately, the line seemed to be blurring, gray setting in as to what they each wanted from the other.

“At least you didn’t threaten to kick me in the business, I’d say that’s progress.” He joked almost nervously.

She pursed her lips then smiled, “shut up Bright,” Stepping just a bit closer and wrapping her arms just a bit tighter around him. Feeling his fingers grip her waist more firmly. She closed her eyes for a moment and everything disappeared except for his woodsy scent and the warmth of his body. Maybe, just maybe for a second, they could just be two people dancing.

“Love was my shoreline I stare myself blind Now was not our time No, I let you down”

The world just kind of stopped all he heard was the sound of her breathing against his ears and felt the light brush of her breast against his chest. The warmth of it all driving him a bit mad. Thoughts of kissing her entered his head, as it had been doing more and more lately. The haunting song left him with such want, he wanted her, need her. He didn’t notice that Gil smiled at them from the bar or that Tally mouthed ‘I told you’ to JT to which he shook his head.

“Some last, some die Some love wait till its time If you save your heart for mine We'll meet again, we'll meet again, We'll meet again, we'll meet again“

“Bright?”

“Hmm,” he hummed softly against her ear, his breath warm, making her skin tingle.

“You seem different tonight,” she pulled away from him a bit to look at him. “You good?”

“Well, I definitely have been in worse situations that’s for sure.” He joked, his eyes searching her face as it turned into a signature ‘had it with your shit’ smile.

“Oh yea, I bet dancing with me falls under the top 10 worst experiences of your adult life.” She said rolling her eyes and chuckling.

“I’d say somewhere between getting kidnapped and holding a live bomb,”

She laughed at that and stepped out of his embrace “thanks jerk!”

He missed her instantly, maybe that’s why he grabbed her elbows as he joined her laughter and said “dancing with you Dani Powell makes the top 10 best experiences of my life.”

“Oh, yeah? Before or after all the sex you’ve had?” she couldn’t stop herself, even as her mind yelled ‘what are you doing?! This is flirting, this is not friend stuff.’ but the words tumbled out of her mouth.

He looked at her, watched as her face turn almost the exact shade of red as her dress, he opened his mouth then chuckled out, “it could easily take number one.” He saw her intake of breath, the way her eyes locked on him and her cheeks burned, he saw the flash of what he thought he felt. Could she possibly feel the same?

They were definitely moving away from the friend zone, and thank fuck for that she thought because it was getting exhausting to pretend that she didn’t want to grab his stupid face and kiss him every time he said something that made her heart go thump like now or when he looked like he would break from the pressure within. But then she realized where they were and reality kicked in and she got scared, so she backed off with a small smile saying “It’s a good thing you’re a smooth talker, we’re too high up for anything to break your fall.”

Just like that, the moment changed and they were friends again...

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youtube

#brightwell #random fic #malcolm x dani #prodigal son #brightwell trash #lykke li #obsessed #sleeping alone #song fic #quarantine

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samcedesvegas · 4 years

Text

Morning in Vegas || Samcedes

Who: Sam Evans and Mercedes Jones

What: Sam and Mercedes go out on the town for some much needed fun

Where: Las Vegas, NV

Mercedes was having the strangest dream, she and Sam went out, got married, got drunk and had wild sex all night, when she heard a knocking on the door. Her eyes fluttered open as the knocking continued and she groaned not wanting to get up but knowing it wouldn't stop. She sighed sitting up feeling extremely hung over. She threw her robe on, not registering that she was naked under it and went to the door. "I'm coming...what?" She opened the door to see Nate standing there with a dozen roses.

"Merce please. Take me back, we are perfect for each other. I just needed time to find out who I am and I realize I am nothing without you."

The room was spinning in circles. Sam woke up with his blonde hair all over his head, a pounding headache, and pretty much no recollections of what he did last night. But by the stench of whiskey on his breath he knew it was fun. He rolled over, only to find Mercedes Jones, his co-star, completely naked next to him. “Holy shit.” He cursed under his breath before silently congratulating himself. It was a guy thing. Not knowing how she might feel about everything, his plan was to quickly shower and leave her to rest. Walking back into the bedroom with nothing but a towel around his waist, his eyes widened at Nate standing in the doorway with a bouquet of roses. “I-I umm, I’m just gonna’ grab my clothes and go.” He stuttered awkwardly.

Mercedes felt her eyes widen as Sam walked into the room from the bathroom, and Nate saw red. He pushed past Mercedes looking at Sam. "What the fuck?!"

Mercedes closed her eyes trying to figure out what was going on herself. "Nate I need you to go "

"Me?! You made me wait a damn year before we even went past second base and here you are with him?"

"Nate please...right now I need you to turn the volume down and go. I don't know what happened between me and Sam but whatever it was, it stopped being your business a long time ago ."

Nate was about to run at Sam but Mercedes stopped in his path. "NATE! JUST GO!"

Once Nate finally agreed to leave Sam was relieved when Mercedes closed the door. He knew karate and Kung fu but he wasn’t sure how far that would take him with a dude twice his size and build. He breathed a sigh of relief as he went to gather his clothes. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to screw that up.” His country accent is a bit thicker than normal because of his nerves. Taking a seat on the bed he hid his face in his hands. Mostly trying to remember last night but also to soothe the headache that was pounding in his head. “What the hell did we do last night?”

Mercedes tightened her Robe and shook her head. "Nate shouldn't have come here. We are over, he needs to realize that." She ran her hands through her hair shaking her head. "I don't know...I remember the club and bits and pieces..." She was about to sit on her bed when her phone rang.

"Tina let me call you back."

"Sure thing I just have one question. WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO!"

Sam could hear the shouting through the phone. He tried his best to remember everything that went on. He was sure of one thing though, they definitely had sex. Only reason to explain them both naked laying in bed together. He remembered the fountain but pretty much everything after that was a blur. He quickly dressed himself as he waited for Mercedes to finish her call.

"Please stop yelling! It's been a crazy morning already." She sighed.

Tina continued. "Mercedes I took you on as a client because you were the responsible one. But this..."

"What are you talking about?"

"How about the fact that you and Sam got MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"We did what now?"

Whoever this Tina was, she was a very loud person. Loud enough for Sam to hear. "My mother is gonna' kill me" he whispered more so to himself. He went to grab the remote and turn on the tv and there they were on TMZ. A picture of them kissing at the chapel and even a scanned copy of the marriage license. Sam ran his hands though his messy blonde hair before giving Mercedes a what the fuck look.

Tina cleared her throat. "Get home immediately, do not answer any questions, do not say anything."

Mercedes closed her eyes trying to remember the night. Then her eyes open wide. "Tina I swear it was a Joke. We went there as Brooke and Ryder. I have the copy right here." She ran to the side table looking for the license and quickly grabbed it and saw it on the floor. She sat back on the bed staring at it as the phone fell to the ground. "Oh my God."

Tina could still be heard from Mercedes phone on the ground as she stood there looking at what Sam assumed was the same marriage license he'd just seen on the tv. He stepped over to Mercedes. tightening his towel around his waist so it didn't slip. They definitely needed to talk about all of this.

Mercedes didn't say a word she just stared at the paper in front of her. She could have sworn she wrote out Brooklyn not Mercedes. Her eyes scanned to the groom's name seeing if Sam wrote Ryder but he didn't. "What the hell did we do..."

" Apparently we got married." he tucked his lips in before letting them go with a pop. Before he could say anything else he had an incoming call from the back pocket of his jeans. He retrieved his phone and answered it. "SAMUEL DWIGHT EVANS! I can not believe you did something like this! You're 25 with a budding career and lot's of young female fans. What possessed you to do such a thing? Oh my Barbara...how am I supposed to spin this huh?" Sam sighed out of frustration. "Rachel...relax. Look I'll come straight to you when I get back in town." she was still talking but he hung up on her mid sentence.

Mercedes shook her head. "I'm sorry I blacked out what?" She looked at Sam. "Tell me that this is a dream."

Sam was going to every blog site that he knew of and they were front page on almost all of them. She turned his phone around to face Mercedes. "I don't think so." he shook his head. "Looks like we really...got married."

"Oh Go- I am gonna be sick." She held her stomach fearing the worst. "Wait it's okay, we just...we just get it annulled. Yeah we were drunk and clearly out of our minds. Yeah we just get it annulled and it's like nothing ever happened. " she said talking to herself.

Sam nodded. "Wait what the heck is an annulment?" he genuinely asked as he went to retrieve his clothes from the bedside, returning to the bathroom to quickly get fully dressed.

Mercedes glanced up at Sam realizing that he was talking to her. "Oh um it's kinda like a divorce but this was more of it being like it never happened. I am sure they can spin it as a prank we just have to get back home." She sighed. "I am sorry this happened Sam, I should have never let my guard down...."

"Ahhh I get it." he nodded now understanding the concept. There was no way they could stay married. They barely even knew each other and Mercedes was only kind of cool with him in the first place. "You have nothing to be sorry about, it was both of us letting loose. LA little too loose I guess." He closed his eyes taking a deep breath and suddenly last night's activities began to flood his head. It was still blurry but clearly they'd consummated the marriage...a few times last night.

Mercedes sighed standing up and sitting right back down, her body finally feeling the effects of last night. Flashes of her and Sam, on the bed, the wall, in the shower. Her eyes opened wider as she glanced at Sam. "Oh my Lord did we have sex too?"

Sam nodded. "My back was pretty scratched up so I'm going with yes." Sam took a seat next to Mercedes and grabbed her hand in his. "Look we can forget about it if you want to. We'll go back home and get this thing annulled or whatever and go back to normal."

She looked at him, eyes blinking but not really retaining what he was saying. She sighed as he took her hand in his and nodded. The sooner they got rid of this problem the sooner.

After packing and having help to sneak out of the hotel. They found themselves on the short plane ride home. Within an hour of leaving the hotel they were in the conference room of her Label. Waiting to hear from her management and his. Waiting to hear how angry they were.

Sam was sort of going through the motions with all of this. He had about a hundred text messages...ninety-nine being from his mother. He didn't bother opening them though. He knew it was full of chastising texts asking how she was supposed to explain this to all of her friends. He sat nervously on the opposite end of his wife. It was weird to think they were actually legally married. He wanted to talk to her and get an idea of how she was feeling. Earlier she was mostly in shock and disbelief. Before he could part his lips Rachel came walking in in her best business attire.

Mercedes glanced up as Sam's manager walked in followed by Tina. Tina took a seat next to Mercedes and sighed. "So I know we both can agree that this was not what we all expected when you left for Vegas. And while we both feel this should have been avoided...still can't believe you of all people did that Merce, but I digress, the Label and Production Company has come up with a way to resolve this."

Sam was all ears because he himself had no idea of how to fix all of this. It had already hit every major blog site and news broadcast. If they admitted it was a drunk mistake they'd look incompetent but if they went along with it, they'd be judged just as harshly. "I'm not used to taking a backseat by any means but I'll let Tina explain everything we came up with." Rachel held out her hands giving Tina the floor

"Thank you." Tina said standing. She knew Mercedes would have some issues with their plan so she wanted space from her. "So the problem is that you two got married while drunk in Vegas."

"It was a joke! We were supposed to be in character." Mercedes argued.

"Maybe so. But if we annul it, you two may seem unreliable and flaky, you may even cost the movie some much needed good press. So we are a team that thinks the only way to save face is for you to remain married."

"Wait what?" Sam turned to Rachel with a confused look on his face. So they were going to force them to stay married for the sake of the movie? Sam was clear this wasn't what Mercedes wanted and he definitely was not ready to be anyone's husband. As Rachel chimed in Sam sort of zoned out watching Mercedes the entire time. He was doing his best to read her mind. "...we've already arranged a little press tour to solidify all of this. Ellen, Jimmy Fallon, and The View." Sam caught the tail end of Rachel's sentence.

Mercedes shook her head as she listened to what they had to say. "No. No it's not happening. I am sorry but you can not expect us to stay married."

Tina sighed. "It's the mess you got yourself into. Mercedes you have worked your ass off for your career and do you really want one mistake to ruin it? This is the best choice and then after a year you guys can divorce."

"No...no. There has to be another way." Mercedes said softly.(edited)

Sam's ears perked up and he finally mustered up enough confidence to respond to Mercedes. "Maybe it won't be that bad...the movie will be out by then right?" he directed toward Tina and she nodded. "We can have one of those short lived Hollywood romances then eventually everyone will forget about it." Mercedes was clearly adamant and sticking to her guns and Sam couldn't blame her. But maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Am I living in the damn upside down!?!?!?!?!?!" She said standing and running her hands through her hair. "I don't have a choice do I?" She said looking around.

Rachel stood placing a calming hand on Mercedes' shoulder. "I am afraid not. But we will do our best to make this a comfort for you and Sam. You'll honestly thank us in the end. Both of your careers are going to skyrocket because of this. Trust me."(edited)

"My career? DO you think I give a damn about that? I am more concerned with my family! If my dad doesn't kill Sam, my brother will." She placed her hands on her head. "It's why I haven't even turned my phone back on."

Sam's head shot up at the mention of him being killed. He hadn't even thought about her family. He gulped nervously, running his hands through thick blonde strands of hair. "...killed? Rachel...I didn't sign up to be killed." He'd already had a taste of Mercedes' ex boyfriend this morning. He wasn't sure he could take too much more of the other men in her life.

Tina laughed. "She doesn't really mean to kill. They will just scare you."

Mercedes sighed looking at Tina. "Is this really the only choice we have?"

Tina nodded and Mercedes looked at Sam and sighed.

"I'm not that bad, I promise." Sam always tried to make jokes that lightened the mood. Even if no one else was in the joking mood. He still wanted to get Mercedes alone so they could talk about this together. After all, they would be the ones who would have to put up this facade. And if they were going to this they both needed to be as comfortable as possible...if that was even possible.

Mercedes sat back shaking her head. This was ridiculous.

"Tina looked at her. "So now that we are on the same page, what are you all thinking."

Mercedes didn't say a word, she just sat there thinking about her family and her future.

Sam knew his family would have their opinions...he was too young, his career was just not taking off, blah blah blah. But he didn't care. He stopped caring about what they thought a long time ago. "Well on top of the press run, we'll have you guys go on a series of date nights, something the media can eat up. Then a People Magazine shoot, because people love newlyweds." Rachel was salivating with excitement.

Mercedes listens but has nothing to say. This was all too much. She heard Tina ask if she was listening and she nodded. "Huh? Uh yeah of course. If this is what you think is best then lets do it."

#samcedes #samcedes rp #samcedes 1x1 #mercedes jones

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stilldani24 · 4 years

Text

Seize the Day - Newsie!Bucky x Journalist!Reader - Chapter Five

Summary: The Newsie Strike of 1899 made the world stand still for two weeks. For one kid and his bum-legged best friend, it meant The World was watching and they needed to make a difference. Based on Disney’s Newsies.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, violence, disabled character

Words: 2985

A/N: I was gone for two months then supplied two chapters in one week?? You’re welcome. But I’m definitely moving in two weeks so this is in preparation of moving to a new place.

PROLOGUE//CHAPTER ONE//CHAPTER TWO//CHAPTER THREE//CHAPTER FOUR//MASTERLIST

The next few days following the riot were…oddly quiet. Newsie Square was seemingly abandoned, aside from the occasional clean-up crew sent from the city. Pierce hadn’t sent out any additional papers or newsies to sell them for two whole days, since news about the Newsie Riot was blacklisted from every newspaper in the city. Except for one.

You marched happily up to Thor’s restaurant, where you knew the boys would be. Upon walking into the dining room, you were caught off-guard at the sight. You had assumed that the boys were going to be celebrating, perhaps even a tad bit excited, but no. Obviously still beaten up and recovering from the blatant assault on these poor kids, they were slumped in their chairs, laying on the ground, or strewn across a table. It was almost pitiful.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you spoke in a chipper voice to get their attention as you made your presence known. “Would you look at these glum mugs. These couldn’t be the same boys who made the front page of the New York Sun.”

As you said that, you proudly opened the paper you were holding out so they could clearly see the front page. They all hurried from their chairs, gathering around you to take a look at the picture. Excited chatter went around the room as they passed the paper to one another.

“You got us in the pape?” Sam asked, in disbelief but also in amazement.

“You got yourselves in the pape,” you clarified, motioning to the caucus of newsies. “Mine’s the only one that ran, though. Pulitzer declared a blackout on strike news so even I’m shut down now. I heard they arrested Steve, though. I was with Bucky until the riot died down but I haven’t seen him since. Did they get him too?”

“Nah, Zemo and Rumlow are runnin’ a story. They been sayin’ that he took it on the lam first sight of the cops,” Clint spoke up, making you look to him and raise your eyebrows.

“Bucky don’t run from no fight,” Peter spoke up, going up to Clint and shoving on his chest. Peter had been a newsie only a week but looked up to Bucky as if he was Jesus Christ himself.

“Take it down, shortstop. I’m just reportin’ the news,” Clint replied before walking off back to his table, plopping down in his seat and taking a sip of his water.

“Fellas, c’mon,” Scott spoke up, clapping Clint on the shoulder. “Le’s just drink in the moment, huh? We’re famous! And when ya famous, the world is your erster.”

“Your what?” Sam asked, trying to get his head around what this thick-accented kid was trying to say.

“Your erster.”

“What the hell are you trying to say?”

“Your erster. The fancy clam with the pearl inside!” Scott gave up now, exasperated as he too went to sit down. The room then erupted into the boys correcting him, making Scott flip them all off.

“Guys, whatever!” you told them. “You guys are famous. You’re making history with this front-page story. You’re, like…the kings of New York.”

Their mood seemed to all perk up when you said that, and Sam clapped you on the shoulder. “You’re the King of New York. C’mon. I have a feeling I know where Bucky is.”

You looked to the boy, nodding to him as he took your hand, leading you from the restaurant and down towards the theatre as fast as you two could. Finding him was of upmost priority, since the strike couldn’t go on without him. He was the voice of reason and inspiration for them all, and without him, the strike was at a standstill.

Dear Bucky

Greetings from the Refuge. How are you? I'm okay. Guess I wasn't much help yesterday. Snyder soaked me real good with my crutch. Oh yeah, Buck, this is Steve, by the way. These here guards, they is rude. They say jump, boy, you jump or you're screwed! But the food ain't so bad, least so far cause so far, they ain't brung us no food. Ha ha. I miss the rooftop, sleeping right out in the open in your penthouse in the sky. There's a cool breeze blowin, even in July. Anyway, so guess what. There's this secret escape plan I got. Tie a sheet to bed, toss the end out the window, climb down then take off like a shot! Maybe though, not tonight. I ain't slept, and my leg still ain't right. Hey but, Pulitzer, he's goin' down! And then Buck, I was thinking we might just go, like you was sayin. Where it's clean and green and pretty. With no buildings in your way and you're riding Palominos every day. I'll be fine, good as new but there's one thing I need you to do. On the rooftop you said that a family looks out for each other so you tell all the fellas from me, to protect one another. The end.

Your friend best friend brother,

Steve

Bucky had been furious when he received that letter. From what he gathered from it, the Refuge was far worse than what he had experienced. He may also have been imagining it as way worse, since now he had to think of seeing it through Steve’s eyes. That kid had no survival instinct, and though he was tough and could put up a fight when in the right situation, he often needed Bucky to help him through. Now he wasn’t getting anything to eat or proper care for his leg. Bucky had no where else to go. He went right to Natasha’s theatre, needing an outlet for his rage. Often, it went onto a canvas with paint.

Natasha entered the room as he finished the newest backdrop, smiling at the work. Like always, it was beautiful. She smiled as she approached the young boy, holding a wad of cash in her hands.

“Here’s what I owe you for the first backdrop, plus this one,” she told him, placing the bundle in his hands and closing his hand over it, her hand on top of his. “And a little something extra just account’a because I’m gonna miss you so. Just answer me something, Bucky. Tell me you’re goin’ somewhere and not runnin’ away.”

Bucky scoffed as he tucked the money into the front of his painting smock, walking to fix a detail in the painting. He had often refused taking money for his work, since he simply loved painting, but he knew Natasha would have taken him to the floor if he refused it any longer. “Does it matter, Miss Natasha?”

She sighed at his response, placing her folded hands in front of her as she turned to him. “When you go somewhere and it turns out not to be the right place, you can always go somewhere else. But if you’re running away, no where is ever the right place.”

Bucky looked up when he heard running on the catwalk from above the backstage area they were in, seeing Sam and letting out a heavy sigh. He had wanted to distance himself from the newsies, for at least a little while, since he definitely wasn’t happy with the outcome of the riot. Natasha left as Sam ran down to the floor below, approaching Bucky.

“How’s about letting a pal know if you’re dead or not?” he asked sternly, paper in hand as he stopped in front of the boy. “We’ve been lookin’ everywhere for ya.”

“You ever think I didn’t wanna be found?” Bucky asked then as he grabbed a couple of paint cans, moving them aside. Sam just ignored him, showing him the paper.

“Look at this, Buck! We made front-page news, above the fold!” he exclaimed excitedly, opening the paper as to demonstrate that they were, indeed, above the fold of the newspaper.

“Good for you,” Bucky replied blandly, not caring a single bit about the fact that they made the paper. It was taken at a time before the police beat them senseless and Steve had been taken away to the Refuge.

“Everyone wants to meet the famous Bucky Barnes,” Sam countered, walking to the other side of Bucky now since the kid had moved to continue to paint. “Pietro Maximoff even sent a kid over to tell us that at the next event, we can count on Brooklyn being there. Yeah, we may have been stomped into the ground, but that was just round one. With press like this, our fight is far from over.”

“Every newsie who could walk was out there this morning sellin’ papes like the strike never happened,” Bucky had stopped painting now, turning to Sam to finally face him fully. “Save your breath, it’s hopeless.”

Sam then sighed, turning to the catwalk to see you standing there, just watching. He beckoned you down, to which you nodded and began walking down the steps.

“I was out there with them,” Sam told Bucky. “If I don’t sell papes, I don’t eat. But I saw this look in Stark’s face. He was scared, he was actually worried. So I walked away, and so did a lot of other kids.”

Bucky just sighed, looking up finally to see you. “Jesus, what’s a guy gotta do to get away from you people?”

He undoubtedly felt embarrassed about crying in front of you. No, not just in front of you, but into your shoulder. He was supposed to be tough as nails, no emotions getting past him, but he had been blubbering like a baby and clinging onto you like his life depended on it.

“There’s no escapin’ us, pal. We’re inevitable,” Sam told him, and you walked towards the kid and the giant canvas to get a look at it.

“Well, you look like hell,” you commented, raising an eyebrow at the scenery he had painted. “Is that Santa Fe? You’re painting something you ain’t even seen before?”

“Oh, you want me to paint something I’ve seen before?” he asked snarkily, grabbing the canvas and spinning it around. On the back of the wooden canvas was a cartoon. Beneath a giant foot in a shiny loafer, which was labelled “Pierce”, a bunch of newsies were being squashed underneath it. “Newsie Square, thanks to my big mouth. All of us beaten, some of us arrested.”

“Lighten up, no one died,” Sam told him with a frustrated look, crossing his arms.

“Oh!” Bucky exclaimed, almost amused but definitely pissed. “Is that what you’re aimin’ for? Lang brought me a letter from Steve, from the Refuge. I tried to go see him, y’know? Climbed up the fire escape. They busted him up so bad, he couldn’t even come to the window! Now what if he don’t make it, huh? You willin’ to shoulder that? For what, five pennies a pape?”

“It’s not about pennies, Buck!” Sam finally snapped at him, having enough of all the “woe is me” talk coming from the kid. “You said it yourself, we wouldn’t have to scavenge in the streets if we were given a fair deal, alright? We need to fight for that. This is a fight we have to win!”

“If I wanted a sermon, I would show up for church,” Bucky sneered in his face, stepping back now and motioning back to the staircase so the both of you would get the hint.

“Now, tell me how quitting does Steve any good,” you spoke up now, leaning towards the two boys. Bucky shot a look at you, daring for you to go further, but the look you were giving him was much stronger than any death glare he could give you. His lack of answer made you smirk. “Exactly. They may have won the battle. But you know why a snake starts to rattle?”

“No, why?” Bucky asked.

“Because he’s scared.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, like I’ll believe that.”

“Go look it up, it’s a fact,” you groaned, throwing a paintbrush at the kid. “Why else would he send dozens of goons? An entire army, plus the cops? Because he’s scared.”

Bucky was silent for a few moments. “Okay, you might be right.”

“Thank you, God,” you groaned in relief, placing a hand on your head. “He knows we’re winning. Okay, here’s the plan. I can see about getting a meeting with Pierce and telling him our negotiations, okay? I have the ties, trust me. Bucky, I want you to be there specifically. You’re the front man so he’d only want to hear from you. I’ll send for you once I get it, okay?”

Bucky nodded to you, looking up at his canvas for a second. He hoped with all his heart that Santa Fe looked something like that, at least just a little. But then he looked to you. You were here in New York. You were what he had his sights on now, not Santa Fe. He would follow you to the end of the world. “Okay,” he confirmed. His eyebrows then raised as you spit in your palm, holding your hand out. Oh, yeah. He would follow you to the moon if you asked.

You sent for him a day later, a letter to the theatre since that where he undoubtedly would be. You invited him to the World building, unknowingly at the same time as when the mayor would be stopping by with Snyder to discuss the Refuge. Since the strike and rally, which was to be held at Natasha’s theatre the following day, would be held and organized by an “escaped convict”, Pierce was looking to shut it down since that was within the law to do so. You walked into the room mid-conversation, looking to Pierce as he glared at you. All he did was hold up a paper, the copy of the New York Sun with your article displayed on the front, and it made you sit down in your seat. If there was one man in the world to make you comply, it was Alexander Pierce.

“If that’s the case,” the mayor continued. “Then we can take him back into the Refuge. Quietly.”

Pierce slammed his hands on the desk, frustrated. “What good does quiet do me? I want a public example made of him!”

Before he could continue, Wanda ran into the room. “Mr. Pierce, the boy, Bucky Barnes, is here. Just outside. He has a letter summoning him here for a meeting with you.”

Your eyes widened as you stood up from your chair, wanting to run from the room to tell Bucky that now was really not the greatest of times, especially since Snyder was in the room and ready to take him at any second. Pierce laughed, telling Wanda to let him in, before forcing you back into your seat with one simple word. “Sit.”

You quickly obliged, sitting back in your seat as he swivelled it around so you wouldn’t be seen upon Bucky entering. Pierce had to have known you set up this meeting, but you didn’t know what he was going to do now that he had a man capable of throwing him back in jail in the room.

“Mr. Bucky Barnes,” Wanda announced as she entered the room, a tinge of nervousness on her face as Bucky walked in behind her. Since the two were similar in age and grew up in Brooklyn, she had been silently and secretly rooting for the newsies to win this whole fiasco.

“Now, which Bucky Barnes is this?” Pierce questioned as Bucky took a look around the room. “The union organizer or the petty thief and escaped convict?”

“Which one gives us more in common, huh?” Bucky quipped quickly in response, making you stifle a laugh from where you were hidden by the huge-backed chair. Seriously, Pierce had the strangest taste in office decoration. Everything had to be the most expensive thing he could get his grubby hands on.

“Impudence is in bad taste when crawling for mercy,” Pierce replied, unamused.

“Crawlin’?” Bucky chuckled. “No, no, it ain’t like that. See, I was just stoppin’ by with an invite. It seems a, uh, a few hundred of your workers are rallyin’ to discuss some, uh, recent disagreements. Now, I thought it only fair to invite you to state your case direct to the fellas. Huh? So, what do ya say, Alex? Want us to save ya a spot on the bill?”

“You are as about as disrespectful and cowardly as I was told about,” Pierce smirked in response. “When I was your age, boy, I was fighting in a war. It taught me a lot of valuable lessons, this one most importantly. You don’t win a war on the battlefield. It’s the headline that crowns the victor.”

“Well,” Bucky smirked as he stepped closer to Pierce. “I will keep that in mind when New York wakes up to front page photos of our rally.”

“Rally ‘til the cows come home,” Pierce replied with a devilish smirk. “Not a paper in town will publish a word. And if it’s not in the papers, it never happened.”

“You may run this city,” Bucky snapped at him. “But there are some of us that cannot be bullied. Even some reporters.”

“Ah, such as that young woman who made you yesterday’s news,” Pierce replied as he walked to your chair, simply standing by it. “Talented girl. And beautiful as well, don’t you think? I’d sure hope you’d agree, since she takes after her father.”

He then tugged your chair around so it swiveled to face Bucky, but he had done it so hard that you had nearly fallen from your chair. You looked up at Bucky, taking in a deep breath as he saw the look on your face. He looked from you, to Pierce, then back to you.

“I’d like you to meet my daughter. Y/N Pierce.”

TAGLIST: @buckysmischief @captainscanadian @thingsthatkeepmeawakeeveryday @this-kitten-is-smitten @wtfisachoncexx @jllngls02 @abrilkatz123 @writeturnlove @buckysgirls-stuff @tomhollandenthusiast @sebastian-i-stan @farfromjustordinary @imma-new-soul @lumar014

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN!!

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