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geminiwritten · 2 years

Text

flour ; bucky barnes

fandom: marvel

pairing: bucky x reader

summary: sam kisses you to save your cover on a mission, and bucky punches him... but you still don’t believe he’s in love with you?

notes: dear lord, i’m so sorry about this. i started it over a year ago, so it is probably a little disjointed, and i tried writing in present tense for some reason ??? anyway, i hope it isn’t too stupid! i’m trying really hard to get back into writing :)

word count: 5537 (i’m sorry)

“You astound me,” Natasha says, her words fed through the small radio piece tucked into your ear, “your heart rate is barely above seventy b.p.m.”

Your frown is only slight, your demeanour remaining cool and casual as the escalator descends toward the mall’s food court. Beside you, Sam has his cap pulled low on his brow and his sunglasses pushed high on his nose, one hand is resting on the handrail while the other is wrapped softly around your waist. You turn to him to feign conversation as you ask Natasha, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re in the middle of a covert mission,” she says, “possibly gone wrong and you’re still so calm, but the minute Barnes is within a twenty-foot radius your heart rate goes of the Richter.”

Heat flushes through you, blood concentrating in your cheeks and turning them an embarrassed shade of pink, “Nat, what the-”

Sam chuckles and pulls you closer to his side, “Calm down. He lost our signal between the third and fourth levels below.”

Oh. The thrumming in your chest begins to slow again and you focus on keeping your balance as you step off the escalator. Bucky wouldn’t have heard Nat’s stupid remark because he is currently waiting beneath six levels of solid concrete inside a room made entirely of metal. Assuming he hasn’t been found out and tied up, he would be silently watching the mall’s CCTV footage of you and Sam making your way through the food court.

“Meet him outside, in front of Subway,” Nat instructed, “greet him like an old friend you didn’t expect to see. He knows the drill.”

The food court was bustling. Full of hungry, impatient people waiting for their food or searching for an empty table amongst the hoards. It was an unusually busy Thursday that would hopefully work to your advantage.

Sam shot a casual glance over his shoulder, “They’re taking the outskirts; getting close.”

“Do they know who they’re looking for yet?”

He shakes his head as another voice comes through your earpieces, “Anyone copy?”

“Barnes,” Natasha replies, “welcome back.”

“I’m almost out, any complications?” he asks.

“Not yet,” Sam replies, again pretending to converse with you, “but they’re close. We’re about forty away.” Forty seconds, he means.

Bucky sounds relieved as he says, “Copy.”

Forty seconds until you’re out of this hot crowd of bodies and screaming children. Forty seconds and you could call this mission a success. Forty seconds and you will be able to slap Natasha for her stupid comment earlier.

"Are they following?” Sam asks as the two of you step out into the bright sunlight. It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust, and you stumble a little as he begins to drag you across the courtyard.

“Yes,” Nat replies, “but I’m not sure they’ve clocked you yet.”

Surely these goons could wait thirty more seconds before realising that you were the couple they were looking for.

“You two look awfully suspicious,” Bucky says, obviously able to see you now.

Your heart begins to beat a little faster and you can hear the amusement in Nat’s tone, “You need to distract them, and one of you take your damn hat off.”

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” Sam says as he reaches for your cap.

Your hair falls loose, “What?”

“Twenty seconds,” Natasha informs.

Before you can ask why the hell Sam has stopped walking, his lips crash into yours. The arm around your waist pulls your body against his and the other presses into your back. Panic floods through you, lighting every inch of skin on fire as your brain struggles to catch up, to respond.

It’s over as soon as it begun, and Sam looks more apologetic than proud as Nat says, “Good job, Wilson.”

Your legs feel like jelly as Sam continues tugging you toward the bright green and yellow sandwich shop. Between wisps of loose hair and wandering shoppers, you spot Bucky, his maroon cap shading his face and his hands deep in the pockets of his hoodie. You count your steps as the seconds it takes to reach him, and ten later Sam releases you from his hold to greet his ‘old friend’ as Nat had instructed, but before he can even utter a word, Bucky slaps him.

“Are we going to unpack?” Nat asks, sitting on the foot of your bed with her legs crossed and an eager grin spread from ear to ear.

You tuck the corner of your bath towel beneath your arm to secure it as you begin ruffling your damp hair. Rain splatters the floor to ceiling windows on the far side of your room, but as usual Tony has the aircon pumping to keep the whole compound comfortably warm.

“Nothing to unpack,” you reply, “unless you’re talking about how we can do better to not be almost caught next time.”

She rolls her eyes in the reflection of your wardrobe mirror and scoffs, “yeah, okay, let’s completely ignore the fact that Sam kissed you and Bucky freaked the fuck out.”

“He was playing along, he’s a good agent.”

“Playing along?” she stands abruptly, “playing along? Are you serious?”

Heat washes through you, and you watch the colour flush to your cheeks as you finish detangling your hair.

“I know that you know what happened today,” she continues, moving in front of you and gripping your shoulders, “but I need you to acknowledge it and do something about it!”

“Do something about it?” you echo, “like what? Kiss Steve and see what he does?”

Her expression morphs into something from the pits of hell, a devilish grin revealing almost all of her teeth and lighting her eyes with a fire you know all too well.

“No!” you exclaim, stumbling several steps back, “absolutely no way, not in a million years! Natalia Alianova Romanova, wipe that stupid smirk off your face right now!”

“It doesn’t have to be Steve!”

“I was joking!” you turn and drop your towel to replace it with a t-shirt and pyjama shorts, “and it was a dumb joke, I’m not kissing another member of this team. Ever!”

The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts your rant, and standing in the slightly ajar door of your room is Bucky. His cheeks are red and his lips frozen mid-word.

Natasha beams at him, “Barnes, how lovely of you to join us.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, avoiding your gaze and gluing his eyes to Nat, “the door was open, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You didn’t,” you say quickly, “we were just-”

“Tony said pizzas are here,” he turns on his heel, a thought still clearly unsaid as he rushes away from your room.

You groan into the material of your sweater as you pull it on, “oh, fuck me.”

Nat giggles, “you should have opened with that, he probably would have.”

Using the sleeve of your oversized sweater, you swat at her until she hurries out the door in front of you.

Upstairs, the whole loungeroom smells like cheese and slightly burnt dough, and your stomach grumbles in protest to its emptiness. Bucky is the first person you find, as usual, squashed between Clint and Steve on the loveseat while Wanda sprawls across the larger lounge, her legs resting across Sam’s lap.

“How are you feeling?” you ask her, leaning over the back of the couch.

“Like death,” she grumbles, “I can’t even eat pizza.”

Her face is pale, the circles beneath her eyes several shades too dark, and her forehead is glistening with sweat. Bruce had assured everyone that it was only food poisoning from a three-day old enchilada that Sam left in the fridge without warning anyone of its age, but Tony was still keeping a five-foot distance in fear of ruining his weekend by being hunched over the toilet bowl.

“At least your retaining fluids now,” Nat comforts as she offers her a fresh ice pack.

Conversation is scarce as most of the team eats their weight in pizza, and very little is left by the time Peter skips through the doors having just finished his Thursday afternoon decathlon meeting.

“So,” the kid says as he plops beside you on the floor, “how was today? Fill me in.”

You can feel Natasha’s searing stare as you reply, “it was fine, a little too close for comfort but we pulled through.”

Peter sighs dramatically, “don’t be boring, I want all the details.”

“You heard him, Y/N,” Tony pipes in from the kitchen table, “all of the details.”

His eyes light up at that, “holy shit, what happened?”

“Language,” Steve mumbles, to no one’s acknowledgment.

“Nothing,” you say quickly, “we were in a tight spot, almost caught, Sam kissed me to distract the goons and that’s all. Like I said, it was a fine mission.”

“Sam kissed you!” Peter exclaims, and you want to slap the kid for looking immediately toward Bucky.

Nat, sensing the rising tension and deciding to capitalise on it, giggles, “and then Barnes punched him.”

At the same time Peter exclaims, “oh, my God!” Bucky rises from his seat, drops an almost-empty pizza box on the coffee table, and stomps into the kitchen sink to begin aggressively washing his plate.

“It was a good distraction,” you insist, “they lost all suspicion with us, and he did not punch Sam.”

“Felt like a punch,” Sam grumbles before noticing your glare and stuffing half a piece of pizza in his mouth.

A moment of awkward silence passes before Wanda groans about the gurgling of her stomach and Natasha rushes to find a bucket and towel. Sam begins collecting empty pizza boxes and Bucky continues to wash each plate as they are placed on the bench beside the sink. You make sure that you’re the last to approach him, holding on to your plate as you bounce on the balls of your feet.

“Thanks for cleaning up,” you say, “and I’m sorry about… all that.”

He doesn’t respond, a lock of hair falling from behind his ear as he scrubs another dish.

“And sorry about before, in my room, Nat was just-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he interrupts you, splashing soapy water onto the floor as he takes your plate from you.

You hesitate for a moment more, wanting to say something, diffuse the tension, but the link between your brain and your mouth is numb. Instead, you smile weakly at the side of his face before departing, out of the kitchen and lounge room, right through the doors into the corridor.

Back in your room, you yank your curtains closed and flip off all the lights. The LED light from the television above your bed floods the space with pale illumination, casting long and ominous shadows from your furniture. Despite the volume of Kill Bill Vol. 2 playing unnecessarily loud, you can still hear the splatter of rain outside and the knock at your door that comes almost an hour into the film.

“Come in,” you call, and the house’s AI unlatches the door for your guest.

Sam shuffles in, his eyes blinking to adjust to the dimness, “hey cheery, why the teenage moodiness?”

You shrug, “sometimes you need to be moody.”

He rolls his eyes and sits on the foot of your bed, watching a moment of the movie before turning to face you, “I just want you to know that I’m sorry. It was stupid, and I know Barnes likes you, so I don’t know what I was expecting.”

You sit up and pause the film, thankful for the lack of light so that Sam can’t see the redness colouring your cheeks. “You don’t have to apologise,” you say, “Bucky was… I don’t know what he was thinking, maybe something in the basement triggered him, but you don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

His expression rolls through a series of emotions, beginning with scepticism and then confusion, and a couple more that you can’t read before eventually landing on pity. “You really don’t believe us, do you?” he asks.

“Can you stop looking at me like that?” you sink back into your collection of pillows, “it makes me feel pathetic.”

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, “but seriously, you don’t believe us? Was that not an obvious enough display? He is clearly obsessed with you, and I thought you were to, so I convinced him to talk to you this afternoon, but then he came upstairs going on about something he heard, and-”

You sit up again, your head protesting with a dull ache as you interrupt Sam’s rambling, “what did he hear?”

He stops to think for half a second before replying, “you said something to Natasha about never kissing another member of this team… ever?”

It takes you longer than half a second to figure it out and remember why you would say something like that, but then you recall Nat’s wicked smile at the thought of you kissing Steve and the conversation restores itself in your mind.

“Oh, my God,” you sigh, “I did say that but I didn’t mean Bucky, of course I would kiss Bucky. Damn it,” you dig your fists into the featherdown quilt surrounding you.

“Well,” Sam chuckles, “maybe you should tell him that, because he does like you, a lot.”

He presses play on the movie before bidding you goodnight and calling for your bedroom door to be locked once he’s left. You can’t focus on the rest of the movie, too annoyed at yourself for saying something so ridiculous, and too frustrated with Bucky for believing it. Sleep evades you until 2AM, when you begin to dream up embarrassing scenarios in which Bucky rejects you in the most hurtful ways possible. You wake covered in sweat and your chest aching with tension, as if you’d been holding your breath from the moment you fell asleep.

It's only 7AM when you roll out of bed, sliding your legs into a pair of tights and tiredly pulling a clean sweatshirt over your head. You don’t worry about checking your reflection before stumbling out the door with one sneaker on and the other in your hand, your intentions set on the gym.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Tony announces, startling you around the first corner you turn, “you’re just the person I was looking for, actually.”

You fight a yawn as you say, “what do you need?”

“Flour,” he replies, “and eggs, and some other things. The usual order didn’t go through because someone forgot to confirm it, and Barton wants to cook for everyone tonight, so I thought it’d be easier if one of us goes to the store.”

“Okay, first of all,” you can’t fight the second yawn, “the person who forgot to confirm the order was you, Steve reminded you five times, and secondly, why do I have to go to the store?”

“Because, sunshine,” his phone interrupts with a bleep, “I have a very important meeting about next week’s mission and it won’t be just you, Barnes already has the list and is bringing one of the cars up from the basement.”

Your pulse starts to race and you suddenly feel very awake, “Tony, I-”

“I’ll owe you, big time,” his phone chimes again, “please?”

You curse at the little angel on your shoulder winning the war on your conscience, “fine, but you owe me!”

He grins, and that warmth almost makes the next hour of torture worth it. He can’t ignore the noises from his phone anymore and presses it to his ear before turning on his heel and marching back to his office.

Alone in the corridor, you huff and stomp your foot, debating whether or not it’d be worth waking Nat or Wanda up to come with you or better yet, go in your place. Eventually you drag your feet through the compound and down to the ground floor where you find a black car with dark windows waiting just outside the garage entrance.

“Hey,” you say as you open the passenger door.

He looks startled as he mutters, “good morning.”

“Tony said you have the list?” you avoid his gaze, focusing on your shaky hands as you buckle the belt around you.

“Uh, yeah,” the car rumbles to life, “sorry, I just- Tony said he’d send Steve down.”

“Oh,” you finally look at him, revelling in the delicious sound of his morning voice, “I’m sorry, I don’t have to-”

“No,” he says quickly, “I want you to come.”

The car lurches forward before you can reply, and butterflies burst to life in your stomach. The radio is low and you both remain silent for most of the drive, but it isn’t awkward. You’re perfectly happy watching him drive, his hand wrapped around the steering wheel, eyes focused forward, and the way every muscle in his body seems to flex when he changes gears. You were a little disappointed when he finally parked.

“Have you been here before?” he asks, drawing your gaze from his hands to his face.

“As in a grocery store?”

He chuckles, the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard, “as in, this store in particular.”

“Oh,” you fumble with your seat belt, “no, but they’re all the same layout, right?”

You want the image of his smile burnt into your brain forever, but he turns away too quickly and shuts the door before you can even blink.

The store is fairly empty, and there are no people to dodge as you choose a trolley and begin down the first aisle of bread and baked foods. You hold the list and try desperately to focus on the items, but the way Bucky looks in his sweatpants and messy bun pushing a trolley and gazing at foods with glazed eyes. It’s too much.

You clear your throat, “so, we need flour, eggs, chicken-”

“Angel cakes,” he says, picking up a packet of sliced pink and white cakes, “do you like these?”

You nod, “I do, they’re really tasty.”

The way his eyes dip to your lips makes your heart flutter, and he does it twice more before swallowing thickly and tossing two packets of the cakes into the trolley. You continue along with occasional conversation, checking off the list while Bucky adds extra items after confirming that you like them. In the very last aisle of the store, you realise you’d forgotten the flour, but you’re not too annoyed about it because you’d be lying if you said you weren’t upset at the thought of your time with Bucky being over.

“Aisle seven,” you say, guiding the trolley around a corner, “flour, and then we’re done.”

“What is Barton even cooking?” he asks, watching you as you scan the shelves for the exact brand of flour that was on the list.

“Chicken tacos, I think,” you find the flour on the top shelf, “he makes homemade tortillas, it’s pretty good.”

You put the list down on top of the rest of the groceries and pull the sleeves of your sweatshirt up before placing one foot on the bottom shelf of the aisle.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asks.

“Flour,” you point to the top shelf before gripping the one in front of you and hoisting your second foot off the floor.

Once you find your balance, you let go with your right hand and stretch up to reach to the very top. It remains only slightly out of reach, so you hike your foot to the second shelf and reach a little further. Your fingers brush the paper package, and you stretch a little further to try and wrap them around it. Just as you think you’ve managed, the three-pound pack topples forward, and you yelp and leap back to avoid it smacking into your face. Your shoes smack the linoleum floor but not before the flour; its contents burst in a white cloud and the powdery stuff causes your left foot to slip from under you. You keep falling backward until your butt hits the floor.

“Y/N!” Bucky exclaims, already on his knees in front of you.

The flour is already all over his black sweats, the cloud slowly dissipating between you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “that was stupid.”

His worry turns into a breathtaking grin as soon as he realises you’re okay, “it was a little bit stupid; you could have just asked.”

“I’m sorry,” you wipe the back of your hand across your cheek, finding a layer of flour there too.

“Don’t apologise,” he wraps his hands around yours to help you up, “but for the record, you can ask me anything.”

“Anything?” you echo, your heart racing when neither of you let go.

His pale eyes are glued to you, his body close enough for you to feel its heat and you can swear he’s leaning even closer. Warmth floods every inch of your skin, and your heart just about stops when you watch his tongue swipe across his bottom lip, but just as you find the courage to close the distance between your mouth and his, your phone rings.

The both of you startled backward and you fumble to find the phone in your sweatshirt pocket. “Hello?” you can’t help the irritated tone in which you answer.

“Hey!” Nat’s voice comes through, “where are you?”

“The grocery store.”

“Oh, what for?”

“Stuff.”

The phone line goes silent for a second, before Nat gasps, “oh, my God, is that where Bucky is too? What the hell are you two at the store for?”

“Tony asked,” you mutter, “we’re on our way home anyway. See you soon.” You tuck your phone back into your pocket and notice that Bucky has taken several steps away from you. “Sorry,” you say, “we should go.”

You begin pushing the trolley down the aisle while ruffling your hair to rid it of flour and a few people look at you strangely as you approach the check out. The guy behind the register is cute, and though you don’t particularly care what he thinks, you realise then that you’ve been shopping with Bucky for two hours in your grossest clothes without having even looked in a mirror.

“You’ve got a little something on your face,” the guy says, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth.

You laugh through your nose and a small puff of flour comes out, “you should see the other guy.”

He chuckles and begins scanning your items, “aisle seven?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “sorry, I can be a little clumsy.”

“You don’t have to apologise for anything,” he opens another fifteen-cent bag, “but since I will probably be the one mopping it up, you could give me your number as compensation?”

Bucky appears beside you, but you still can’t look at him. “Would you believe me if I said I honestly don’t know my own number by heart?” you say to the cashier.

He laughs again, “I don’t believe a gorgeous girl like you would lie, so yes, I believe you.”

You smile and step to the side to begin loading the bags back into the trolley. When he finally finishes, Bucky pays, and the cashier hands you a receipt with a number scrawled across the bottom next to ‘Dennis xx’.

“Thanks,” you mumble, unable to think of anything else.

Bucky is already out the door with the groceries, and you have to hurry to catch up to him at the car where he has already loaded all the bags into the trunk. “Sorry about that,” you say.

“About what?” he asks, looking at the piece of paper in your hand, “is that the receipt?”

You nod, and he takes it from you, inspecting it quickly before tearing into six pieces and shoving it into his pocket without another word. He is already in the car before you can fully realise what happened, and your stomach takes a nose-dive as the butterflies that were inside of it lurch up into your chest with a renewed, burning passion.

Once you’re both buckled in the car, he all but races out of the carpark, eager to put as much distance between you and that store clerk as possible. His gaze is hard and unmoving from the road ahead, but you can’t help your own as you watch him drive, his movements more jarring than before. Most of the trip is silent except for the soft murmur of the radio, and you spend the entire time trying to think of something to say that isn’t lame but before you can get beyond the idea of an apology, the car slows to a stop inside the dimly lit garage of the compound.

Neither of you move to leave the car, but Bucky turns to you in his seat, “I’m sorry about before, about that cashier’s number, if you-”

“Flour!” you exclaim, the traces of white powdering Bucky’s stubble remind you that while you did find the flour, you never actually put a packet in the trolley.

“Oh, crap,” he says, though a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

“What?”

“Well,” he chuckles, “we could just shake out your clothes?”

You roll your eyes but a smile breaks across your face nonetheless, “I’m sure Clint will love that.”

Silence hangs once again, but this time its more comfortable. After a long sigh, you click the button on your belt buckle and exit the car, Bucky mimicking you on the other side of the black sedan. You meet each other at the back of the car, and you hesitate when his hand beats yours to the boot handle. The door wheezes softly as it opens, but Bucky’s eyes are still fixed on yours, and you don’t dare look away.

“Did you want the store clerk’s number?” he asks, “so you can call him.”

You shake your head as you reply, “no.”

“Good,” he finally releases you from his gaze and turns to the bags sitting in the boot.

“What does that mean?” the words come out of your mouth before you’ve even convinced yourself to say them.

He pauses before releasing the bags and facing you again, “it means, I’m glad you have higher standards than that.”

“Oh,” blood warms your cheeks and you look down at your fingers as you nervously play with the hem of your shirt.

He clears his throat before continuing, “and if those higher standards are met by Sam or-or Steve, then I am happy for you and wish nothing but the best for-”

“Sam or Steve?” you interrupt, “Buck, Sam only kissed me to save the mission and, in all honesty, save me, and Steve? Why would you even say that?”

“Because you two are so close, I mean…” he gestures to your torso, and you look down. Beneath all the flour, you recognise the Brooklyn sweater you’d pulled on this morning, Steve’s Brooklyn sweater.

“Bucky, I stole this from Steve months ago,” you say, “I was too lazy to go buy a sweater and as if this would fit across Steve’s shoulders; he didn’t want it.”

“Oh,” is all he can manage.

Your own thoughts are still racing though, and you frown when you connect the last dot, “is that what you heard from my room yesterday? Me saying that I should kiss Steve.”

You can swear that beneath all the flour and stubble, his cheeks are turning pink, “maybe.”

“Oh, my God,” you sigh, bracing yourself on the car, “Buck, I love you but you’re an idiot.”

The stagnant silence of the concrete basement envelops you both, the only sound being a distant drip of water from one of the pipes running along the roof. Nausea settles in your stomach, starting slow as it churns and twists until it feels like a whirlpool of butterflies and stomach acid is about to launch up your oesophagus. The blood rushing to your head starts to pulse in the corners of your vision and sweat breaks out across the back of your neck as your fight or flight instincts begin an internal war.

“You love me?” Bucky asks after what felt like an eternity.

You nod, “I love everyone in the team.”

He takes a step, closing the distance between your bodies, “do you love me like you love the others?”

You shake your head, “no.”

“Tell me how you love me,” he says, and the slightest tone of dominance makes your knees weak.

“I love-” your voice shakes, every nerve in your body a live wire of anxiety and anticipation, “I love you like… like I need you.”

He smirks, his face inches from yours, “come on, doll, you can do better than that.”

You look up at him through your lashes, “like I might fall out of this universe without you.”

He chuckles, “Lame, but better.”

Your nerves snap and you giggle, “do you enjoy torturing me?”

He closes all distance between the two of you, pressing his body against yours and cupping your face between his hands, “not nearly as much as I’m going to enjoy torturing you later.”

He catches your gasp with his lips, slipping his tongue between yours as his fingers slip into your hair. A soft moan escapes between your mouths, and you grasp at whatever you can, your fingers hooking the hem of his hoodie to hold him against you. The burning in your chest explodes into a full blown fire, Bucky’s heat feeding the flames as they steal every ounce of oxygen from you. Only when your head starts to spin and visions dance behind your eyes do you pull away.

Bucky’s lips are swollen and his face flushed, his pupils blown wide with an emotion that sends wet heat rushing to the apex of your thighs. You swallow thickly, “we should go upstairs.”

He nods, “the sooner, the better.”

“The sooner we face Barton, the sooner we can hide in your room,” you say, feigning an innocent smile as you load a grocery bag onto each arm.

Bucky grins, “how long do you think it’ll take him to get over it, a week?”

“At least,” you reply, “I think we should hide for a month, just to be safe.”

“Good idea,” he says, winking and causing your knees to buckle as you step into the elevator.

The grocery bags are the only things stopping either of you from attacking each other on the way up, making it feel like an age before the doors finally open into the main corridor of the top floor. The automatic doors to the lounge room slide apart as you approach them, and they reveal almost the whole team waiting around the television.

“Took you long enough,” Tony says, “have neither of you been to a grocery store before?”

Despite your whole body shaking with energy, you can’t find the wit nor the effort to retort, and neither can Bucky.

“What the hell happened to you?” Nat asks as she steps into the kitchen.

“Flour,” you reply, as if that is all the explanation needed, “and speaking of…”

Most of the team has risen from their respective spots on the couch and crowded around the kitchen, Steve even beginning to unload one of the grocery bags on the counter.

“After I dropped a three-pound bag on myself and made a huge mess,” you continue, “we forgot to actually buy some.”

Steve has taken full control of the groceries, allowing you and Bucky to step back toward the doors. Natasha laughs first, Sam following closely before the rest of the team seem to catch on to whatever joke you were not aware of.

“It’s okay,” Clint says between giggles, “I can see you got a little distracted.”

You frown and turn to Bucky, whose cheeks are brighter than the tomatoes Steve is holding as he stares down at the front of his hoodie. Outlined in white flour against the black material is the unmistakeable print of a woman’s body.

“Oh,” you can’t hold back a giggle despite the warm hue of embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

Bucky clears his throat, “you know what, I think I need to take a shower,” he turns to you, “and so do you.”

“Gross,” Tony says, the first to turn away from the group.

Nat winks just in time for you to see before Bucky wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls you back out into the corridor. He stops abruptly as soon as the doors slide closed and backs you up against the nearest wall, trapping you with his body as his mouth crashes against yours. This kiss is different than the last; hotter, hungrier, and all tongue and teeth. His metal hand digs into your hip as he holds you against the wall with just enough pressure to leave delicious bruises on your skin.

“I think,” he speaks between kisses and ragged breaths, “we’re going to… have to… take the week off.”

Your eyes lock with his when he hesitates, waiting for your confirmation, and you can already see a glimmer of panic in his blue gaze.

You kiss him again before saying, “maybe a month, just to be safe.”

END.

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goryhorroor · 1 year

Photo

director’s favorites: james cameron

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multiversediaries · 2 years

Text

safe

bucky barnes x reader

summary: the mission against hydra went south and you were the one who got hurt.

warnings: mentions of abuse and torture, strong languages, mentions of bruises and blood

part count: 1/?

this was it.

you were going to die, alone and scared.

everyone is scared of dying alone, and you were no different. you were petrified as you looked at your chained arms and legs. excruciating pain rushing throughout your entire body. tears ran down your bruised cheeks as you scanned the small room you had been locked inside of. cold and solitary. no windows, nothing. just yourself chained to that uncomfortable chair.

you had been taken hostage by hydra. it happened while the avengers and yourself infiltrated their base. everything was going according to plan, until everything went south. they outnumbered you. you found yourself running for your life, until someone forcefully grabbed you, choking you until you passed out.

ever since, you have been a victim of abuse and torture. from punches to stabs. all so you would give them information about your team. the avengers. most importantly, about bucky. of course, you had not said a thing. you would never sell them out. they were your family. you met your boyfriend through them, and had formed a special bond with every single one of them.

however you couldn’t help but be absolutely petrified. you didn’t believe they had forgotten about you, they would never, but it has been almost a month since you’ve been kidnapped and no one has come looking for you. you were so terrified. you had barely lived. you weren’t ready to die yet. you hadn’t saved the world enough times, you hadn’t told your boyfriend you loved him, you hadn’t moved in together. god, you just weren’t ready. not yet.

your thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of gunshots outside. you fixated your eyes on the big, black door, curious on what was going on outside. you sat up straight, holding onto hope that you were about to get out of here. soon enough, that door finally opened. you gasped, as you broke down in tears at the sight.

“nate!” you sobbed at the sight of your boyfriend of many years in front of you. “you came.” you continued, your voice breaking in realization. he came. they all came to save you. you looked at your boyfriend nate, the tears in your eyes blurring your vision. you soon noticed he seemed to be frozen in place. he must be shocked by your appearance.

“i’m so glad you’re here— i thought i was going to die here.” you managed to say, soon after calming down your loud sobs. still, your boyfriend wouldn’t move, or even make eye contact with you.

“i’m— i’m okay!” you tried reassuring him, assuming he was startled by the amount of bruises on your body. “just— help me take these off, please. i can’t seem to get them off.” you almost pleaded, as you tried yet again to remove your hands from the heavy, tight chains that were holding you down.

your confusion further increased as you glared at him, who still didn’t move an inch. you tilted your head, the hope you had soon stripping away. nate didn’t speak, nor move, just breathed in front of you. you let out a breathy chuckle. this must be a sick joke, right? what’s going on?

“nate…?” you asked in a whisper. you yet again, turned on the waterworks in your eyes, as you realized what was happening. he had no plans to set you free. he had no plans to save you. all of that hope you once felt was destroyed by the bullets of his eyes.

“i’m sorry, y/n.” nate said, emotionless, whilst he started walking backwards, towards the door again. your eyes pleaded with his, to please not leave you here. but it seemed pointless.

“nate, please!” you wailed, truly stunned and heartbroken at what was going on. the person who was supposed to love you the most only smirked at you.

“hail hydra.” said nate, a devilish smile soon appearing in his face. your eyes widen in utter fear and disturbance.

what?

you watched nate turn around and begin to walk away from you. tears wouldn’t stop falling from your already swollen eyes. you just couldn’t believe this. you were going to die. there is no more hope. nothing else to hold onto. this was it. your head dropped in defeat.

“what the fuck are you doing?!” you heard someone yell. rage and confusion in their voice. you looked up hesitantly, no longer feeling hope nor longing for someone to come and take you out of this misery. however, you were wrong. there was hope. you were getting out of here.

“why the hell haven’t you unchained her?” they spoke again, as you looked up to meet their eyes. the eyes of your best friend. the eyes of the winter soldier. the eyes of bucky barnes.

“no… buck—he—” you tried saying, whilst bucky walked behind you, using his metal arm to break the chains. he broke the chains with ease, as if they were nothing. you exhaled in relief, as you registered that you were free.

“he’s with hydra.” you managed to say between your desperate tears. you felt bucky’s strong presence behind you.

bucky didn’t say a word. he wasted no time, and walked towards nate, and stoked him harshly. all it took was one punch from bucky, for your boyfriend to fall over, completely unconscious. bucky bit the insides of his mouth, feeling nothing but wrath. he wanted nothing more than to kill him, but he didn’t wanted to add more onto your stress and pain.

“fuck, doll, look at what they did to you.” bucky said, after walking towards you once again, and helping you out of the chains. the floodgates of your eyes never closed, there was no point in trying to stop your tears. you were in a state of shock, and in so much pain.

“fuck— okay. i’m going to pick you up, alright, angel? it’s going to hurt so bad. fuck, i’m so sorry.” bucky said, his hands lightly and softly attempting to wipe away your tears. you nodded, sniffling.

bucky’s cautions arms wrapped around you, and picked you up in the most delicate way possible. you whimpered in extreme pain, hiding your face into the crook of his neck, attempting to hide your painful cries. bucky carried your fragile self out of the hydra compound. ignoring the coos and comments from his coworkers and fellow avengers at the sight of you.

he wouldn’t allow anyone touch you. not even steve. no one was allowed to lay a hand on you. he gently laid you down on a small bed inside of the quinjet. as soon as he knew you were safe and sound, and now resting, he walked towards the other avengers, who were incredibly worried about you.

“is she alright? she doesn’t look good.” natasha asked, as she looked back at your sleeping, bruised body. bucky sighed, his hand massaging his temples.

“i don’t know. just— call banner and helen, tell them to be ready. please.” bucky pleaded, now walking back to you. he sat next to the bed, just watching over you.

————-

“she’ll be alright. a long recovery awaits her.” helen declared, after tending to your injuries for what felt like hours. steve sighed in relief at the news.

“oh my god— thank you, helen.” said sam, who stood next to tony.

“she shouldn’t push herself. look after her, alright?” helen finished, before walking away.

“she went through a lot. poor girl must be traumatized.” clint said softly, now sitting down. natasha and tony nodded their head in agreement.

“not the best way to find out your boyfriend’s working with hydra.” tony said, earning a deadly stare from the winter soldier. bucky exhaled, still extremely worried about you.

“not… now, tony.” steve said lightly, walking closer to bucky, who couldn’t stop thinking about you. of how hopeless and even lifeless you looked sitting on that chair. of how many deep bruises covered your entire body. steve interrupted his thoughts, laying a hand on his shoulder, to attempt to walk along side him.

“she’ll be okay, buck. we got there in time.” steve tried reassuring his best friend, who only shook his head. bucky’s eyes were glued to the floor, walking along side steve.

“you just didn’t see her, man.” bucky said, a frown appearing on his lips. “you didn’t see how terrified she was, steve. it was— seeing her like that was just..” bucky said, trying to find the correct words. steve nodded, frowning as well. both of them stopped at their tracks, as soon as they reached the room you were currently at.

bucky’s eyes softened as he watched you through the window. his eyes watering at the sight of you hooked up to so many machines, and covered in bandaids. he cursed under his breath as he watched you. steve looked at bucky, feeling nothing but pure pity and sympathy. the hand on bucky’s shoulder tenderly stroked him, trying his hardest to comfort him.

“she’s safe, buck.” steve said, earning a small tear to leave bucky’s eyes. bucky nodded, his hand quickly wiping away the tear.

“she’s safe.”

#marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier #winder soldier x reader #winter soldier x y/n #the winter solider x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier x y/n #marvel comics

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love-fics · 5 months

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You guys!! I just remembered I have this! It has more than 250 Marvel characters, and it lists their height, weight, eye color, and hair color (among other things), so if any of you are writing a fic and need to know someone's eye color or something, hit me up!!!!

It has both heroes and villains!!!

#marvel #marvel comics #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #iron man #captain america #hulk #black widow #thor #loki #captain marvel #scarlet witch #winder soldier #(his eyes are brown. but i always picture him with sebs eyes. cause he bodied that)#you name it. its in here!!!#fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic

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justlikebudapestauction · 2 years

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Are you looking for fanart?

Are you into family and friendships? Do you want something with Yelena, Hawkeye, the ‘Barbershop Quartet’? Maybe something shippy: Winterwidowhawk, Black Widow/Winter Soldier, or some other ship? Or an AU? Here you go then!

@mrgabel is offering a piece with black-and-white+1 color up to 3 characters and a piece with flat colors, up to 5 characters, both with any rating of your choice, based on the MCU, the Black Widow comics, the Winter Soldier comics or the Hawkeye comics! Support any of our featured orgs and win one of these offers. \o/

Get in the mood by browsing through their [Tumblr], [Twitter], [Instragram], or taking a look at their example pieces below!

Gabriel has participated in the 2021 Just Like Budapest auction - give some love to their piece on AO3, Tumblr, Twitter or Instagram!

Just Like Budapest is a Black Widow fandom charity auction, supporting Hungarian LGBTQ+ and human rights organizations. We are currently bidding! Find Gabriel’s full offers and bid on their art:

[black and white] - [bid here],

[colored] - [bid here].

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once-upon-a-fanfic · 2 years

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What if...

You and Bucky lived a quiet life in Bucharest before Civil War? Every time Bucky stopped at the farmer’s market, he brought you flowers.

#Bucky barnes #Bucky barnes imagine #Bucky barnes what if #Winter Soldier #Winter Soldier what if #Winder Soldier imagine #Marvel #Marvel what if #Marvel imagine #What if marvel #Avengers #Avengers what if #Avengers imagine

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jonogueirawrites · 9 months

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Machine

He sat on the machine.

The whirring of the beast echoing in his ears.

He sat on that machine.

The cold of the metal on his skin.

He sat on that damned machine.

The protector was shoved into his mouth, and he bit down hard, knowing full well what was to come.

He sat on that fucking damned machine.

His muscles contracted against his will, and his screams drowned out the thoughts around him.

He sat on that fucking damned machine and cried.

He cried because he was about to lose the last memory that kept him from becoming exactly what he feared the most.

He sat on that fucking damned machine and cried and trashed and died.

He died because the only thing keeping him from becoming the soldat they wanted was the memory of you.

He sat on that fucking damned machine and cried and trashed and died and finally became the Winder Soldier once and for all.

“Cолдат?”

“Готов выполнить.”

Your eyes smiling at him on that small street washed away from his memories just like the blood from your throat under the hot shower.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #winter soldier

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is-ur-east-girl-kasha · 3 months

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A beautiful night

nsfw. 18+ rough messy sex. weapons.

You were sitting by the fire on a cold winder day in the mountains. keeping a watch out for your team, and any signs of a threat. you let out a puff of air as it clouds in front of you. large foot steps came closer, you stud low and aimed you pistol. when you saw your 6'10 lieutenant you lowered you gun. "oh, only you sir. my apologies."

he sat by the fire after giving you a single nod. he watched the smoke rise into the thin air. you watched out for the others. but haven't showed up for hours. you sat next König putting your hands near the fire, letting out a slow exhale. the night crept closer, as you fed the fire wood you found laying around. König watches in case the fire got out of hand or sparks flew at you. he nearly has an anxiety attack when you got to close. you sat by him again leaning against a rock, watching the stars appear one by one.

"beautiful night." you looked at König. he was looking at the sky as well

"yes sir. its very beautiful" you looked back at the sky as a smile crossed you face. König went into his tent after a few minutes. but you stayed one night watch. the fire dead down as you looked for more wood. after an hour of searching, you went into the woods and gathered logs and left them in a pile near your tent. you fed the fire as it went up in flames once more. you made some food for your members and lieutenant. there wasnt enough for you, but you didnt mind. you wrapped the food in bundles and kept it the fire for warmth.

König came out of his tent after several hours. you gave him a bundle. he took it then realized there wasnt enough. he tried giving it back to you but you pushed it to him. "its ok sir. the teams needs you more then they need me. "

he stares at you. "you need food to survive out here soldier."

you gave him a single nod as you got up. you pat his shoulder as you went in your tent. its his turn to do night watch. but you got really really cold and couldn't seem to able to sleep. you came out of your tent, as Kônig's back was facing you. you walked up behind quietly but enough so he can hear you walking up. you sat behind him, and rested you back against his.

"couldn't sleep?" he asked

"no sir."

"to cold?"

he felt you nod against his back. he got up and put the fire out. he stares at you, you stare at him. he then picks you up and carries you to your tent. you held into him, a bit confused. you both went into the tent, König gently places you on the sleeping bag.

"undress" he tells you.

you do as you were told, knowing that skin to skin is the best way to keep warm. you slowly take you gear off, rather feeling a bit hot at the tip of your ears and cheeks. as you were undressed, König starts to undress as you lay in the sleeping bag.

every scar was visible on his jacked body,in the dim light in your tent. he blue gray eyes seem to glow under his mask as you stare at each other. his scars... make him seem beautiful to you. you felt butterflies in your stomach as he lays down next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. you've felt this feeling before, and it lead to you master bating in your room back as base, moans his name quietly. then it was clear you thought it was a mistake at that time, but its clear now. you were into your lieutenant.

his breathing was calm, has you were nuzzled into his chest. you put your leg over his knees when you were half asleep. you felt his huge hand grip your thigh, you open your eyes as his hand finds it way to your ass. "sir.."

"shhh Liebling, let me feel your body" he grips your ass firmly. you whimper softly. "have you ever had it before?"

he smiled when you shook your head. "what men your age wasnt good enough?"

"König, the moment men my age see my scar from being in the military, they call me a freak and leave."

"you've been messing around with the wrong men Schatz, your scars tell your strong. how you save millions. you are no freak (Y/N). you are the most beautiful woman I've seen. i know im half your age, but you spite my interest " he took his mask off as he leans into a rough deep kiss. wrapping his arm around your waist and placed is hand on the back of your head. you rolled on top of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. depending the kiss, has he slips his tongue into your mouth.

he moves his hand down to your hips and grinds you against his bugle, as he groans into the kiss. your whimpers drove him off the wall. he pulls away and looks up at you. you licked your lips, tasting his saliva. he ran his hand up your back, grinding you still with is other hand. he undoes your bra and you let it off. he takes both his hands now and plays with your tits. twisting and pulling your nipples. he pulls you down and sucks on one if them, and gripping the other one.

he left bite marks and hickeys all over your chest. "König, i need you. i need you inside of me please"

he chuckled. "soon Liebling, we have to prepare you first. you cant handle me yet." he pulls your panties aside, and inserts his ring finger inside you, and rolls his thumb in circles around your clit. you whimper and smiles when he hooked his finger making your eyes roll back. he thrusts and hooks in finger in you, making you moan softly as his thick finger stretches you out.

as he felt your cunt tighten more around his finger, he pulls them out. you made a dissatisfied sound, as he pulls your whole body up to his face.

"sit" he sounded dominant, and you know he'll stop everything if you dont obey him. you gently sat down on his face. he locked his arms around your thighs as he licked your swollen clit with his hot mouth. you titled your head back, as you sweet moans filled his ears.

he rapidly licked, and sucked on your clit and your walls. speeding ip every minute. and you whimpers, and whine made him more and more eager to fuck the hell out of your needy body. you began to see stars, and you pushed down on him more. then your you soft moans grow louder as you cum into his mouth. he groans as he swallows you cum until it was dry. but his wet soft tongue licked you more making you dripping wet again.

he flips you over, taking you panties off then one firm tug. he took his cock out, and your mouth just drops. his hard, thick, long dick resting on you pussy, throbbing. 9.2. he's going to gently and slowly force that into you. he rubs the mushroom shaped head against you. teasing you until you juices ran down into the sleeping bag.

"we are going to take this nice and slow, i dont want to hurt my little Liebling now. " he pushes the tip into your entrance. your eyes widen as a little high pitch moan gasps from your mouth. he slowly pushes it in more. keeping an eye on you. your face clenched but you smiled. so he pushed more of it inside. your breathing hitches. he wasnt even half way in.

then something snapped, and his hips slammed into your. your moaned so loud he had to cover your mouth. "you need to stay quiet for me" he was breathing heavy. you nod, but he kept your mouth covered as he thrusts his hip into gently. his own whines melted your heart. you were both a moan, whimpering, whining mess as he speeds up when he feels like yours ready. your eyes roll back as you drooled all over his hand.

he uncovered your mouth to pick up your hips, and goes ball deep in your wet tight pussy. "so tight" König whimper mire going harder and faster into you. you guys skin clapped together with some force. you tried to keep your moans low. nut it was getting harder with how hard he was going.

you tightened around his cock, as you see stars again. "you're gonna make me cum again vati"

he smiled, "cum on me baby. give it all you got"

your back arches as your warm cum surrounded his dick. he grunts pushing into you more, hitting your womb walls. "König"

"(y/n)"

you both locked eyes, as his rhythm became sloppy, you could hardly tell if his eye were blue now. he takes a few more thrusts before cum deep inside your destroyed pussy. you stuck your tongue out while crossing your eyes. he took a picture of your beautiful lewd face, still filling you up. he pulls out and his cum drips into your stomach. panting he falls beside you. you looked at him, and snuggled close. he wrapped his arms around you small little body.

you both passed out in the comfort of each other precious, he marked your body. your his now.

Schatz- Darling

Liebling-lovie

Vati-daddy

this is the very first little thing ive ever wrote. i hope you enjoyed it. ♥️♥️🖕🏻

#könig x femreader #könig x reader

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tencionssyouor · 5 months

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(THIS IS ONE MY LMK OC!..SHE WAS MADE MONTHS AGO BUT I DIDN'T HAVE THE COURAGE SO---) 🌪.

Name:Lai Winder

Age:13-16 years old

Race:earthy spirit(wind bender)

Home:Megapolis, Wind clan

🕷.

Skin:Dark tan smooth skin

Hair:Black hair, dye dark purple behind her hair and dye purple tips on the bangs.

Style:Tide up to braided pigtails behind her head, with bright shade purple ribbons.

Eyes:Amethyst eyes

Body type:Skinny,small cheeks,long bones,

Height:165cm

Weight:32-34kl

🎧.

Family Deceseant:From Guinjin

Grandfather:Shou Li

Life:He's the first master to master the wind bending, by Fuhn Fuhn.

He mastered his skill and fought with anyone who would do any crime to hurt the clan.

He was in Arragened marriage with a woman of high society.He had one son named Quan. Their marriage lasted for 3 years before the woman died of a sickness.

He was remarried with another woman,her status being a commoner. They never had any children by consummate of marriage. By the status he provided with his first wife status, his son gained to be a high soldier.

His son married a young lady who they loved each other. They had 4 children.

With the traditional line of the wind clan, their program for the next leader wasn't by blood, but by spiritual called connection.

And that happened to be the second grandchild of the wind masted, Shou li.Lai being 5 years old when she was put over the duty when she would lead the clan. Lai was trained by her grandfather on how to master the book of spells that got to be left in generations.

She lived outside of the wind clan with her grandma wich they were sent to Megapolis. There her grandma was provided with taking care of Lai. She met her best friends on the kindergarten when she got attach to them.

🤍.

Family surmane:

Father:Quan Hin(Hector)

He's 42 years old man, who serve on the military for years. Kind, proud and supportive parent.

Mother:ShouLa(Monica)

She's a 39 years old woman, who works on her small shop haircut,she's a loving, caring and hardworking parent.

Older Brother:Danis(Denis)

He's 18 years old, he's on his third year of high school, and also in the gang of the school led by his sister Lai.

Younger brother:Brandon

He's 6 years old, he's troublemaker, kind and impulsive boy.

Younger sister:Kim

She's 4 years old, sweet, innocent and playful kid.

🎤.

Carer:

After Lai devastating news that Red son didn't want to see or hear her ever again, never acknowledge her feelings for him, Lai felt something eating her inside, like someone has drained her emotions to feel anything, leaving her on that rainy evening to look for Mei to help her with the samadhi fire.

Lai left the megapolis after that accident, to take a break. Lai came back to her clan, and stayed for 3 months.

Lai discovered her talent of singing and performing.

She got into a music company, where her songs and her took big fame quickly. But she always hid her face with a helmet while performing to not wanting be revealed as Lai, she always used another nickname of being known as Winder.

🧷.

Relationship:

Best friend:Susu 8/10

Susu has been a close friend if Lai since they were kids, Lai and Susu were always there for each other. Lai saw Susu more than a friend. And cared deeply for her.

Best friend:Mei 9/10

Mei and Lai have an amazing dynamic, they're outgoing, rebellious and keen on about social medias.

Mei as everyone knows its the star, and Lai is on the background.

Mei is the one who ride a motorcycle, La and Mei time to time woukd hang out late at night ir have sleepovers,Lai is more a Inginier, she work and fix Mai motorcycle, since Lai father used to work when he was younger as a Inginier.

Friend:Mk 7/10

They're kinda the same, they give the same sibling energy that you would suspect.

Crush:Red Son 8/10

When Lai first met Red son, she wasn't scared of him,they met as first friends in a awkward meeting,

Their friendship got more conflicted by the season 2 and 3.Around the season 4 specials,in the end of the beach party,we could see Lai and Red son share a side hug shoulder,and seen them sitting close.

Besties:Jiao 10/10

Jiao is one of Lai mist trusted friend,they're adventures,flirtatious and in the mood to do their adventures.They share a big spiritual connection that they had for years now.

#lmk #lmk oc #my ocs #lmk red son #lmk red son x reader #tumblr fyp #fyp

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priceof-freedom · 2 years

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Steggy Week 2022 - Day 6: Multiverse / What If...?

Captain America: The Winder Soldier (2014) // Marvel’s What If...? (2022)

“I love you... in every universe.”

Better late than never, right? @steggyfanevents

#steggyweek22 #steggy #steve rogers #peggy carter #mcu #gifs #gif edit #steggy week

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wandasaura · 2 months

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Deep in my wanda nat thoughts rn and the way Civil War Wanda and M. o. M. Wanda chemically altered my brain function in the way that Blackwidow movie Nat and Captain america winter soldier nat did… i shall never recover.

Regardless of the stage in the mcu i shall love and be head over heals for them ofc bur something about BW movie nat and “villian” SW/Wanda just has me deep in a chokehold like on my knees for these women 🤭

- 🦈 Sharky

bruce, i think we’re the same person… civil war/mom wanda and black widow/winder solider nat also altered my brain chemistry and i have yet to recover, though i have a persistent grudge against wandas arc in mom that will not be discussed.

black widow nat is the nat representation that we needed after iron man two. she’s just a soft little babie who slouches at the dinner table and spends way too long in front of a vanity making little braids in her hair!

#a: 🦈#answered.#𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 ꔫ

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clonewarsarchives · 2 years

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CLOAK OF DARKNESS (#103, SEP 2008)

The Clone Wars animated feature—and the television series to follow—provides new insight into Anakin’s heroics and the wartime abilities of the Jedi generals and their clone soldiers. Fifteen-year animation veteran Henry Gilroy is a chief writer of the new tales. Here, he tells Insider how The Clone Wars is different from other animated series, how many of the story ideas came from George Lucas, and which member of the Jedi Council is going to be your new favorite. Words: Dan Wallace

Insider: What can fans expect from the movie and series? Having already seen glimpses of The Clone Wars in Revenge of the Sith and the final, treacherous way that Darth Sidious brought an end to that conflict, how do you handle writing characters with predestined fates?

Henry Gilroy: Have you ever missed an episode of your favorite serialized TV show and refused to watch the 411 current episode until you’ve seen the one you missed? We’re going to see the reasons why Anakin misses Padme so much in Episode III. We’re going to see why Grievous hates Jedi so much. We’re going to see why the Jedi are so war weary and determined to end the fighting.

In Episode I, Qui-Gon Jinn told Padme, “I can’t fight a war for you.” In Episode II, Mace Windu says, “We are keepers of the peace, not soldiers.” Dave [Filoni, director of the movie and supervising director of the series] and I wanted this theme to permeate everything, because while the Jedi are forced into the role of military generals and must command clone armies, they are doing something that is opposed to their ideals. It really set the stage for interesting stories that have relevance today about how easy it is to be drawn into wars that maybe we shouldn��t [be].

How did you come to be writing for Star Wars: The Clone Wars?

Back in April 2005, I met with producer Catherine Winder. I brought her a one page pitch of what The Clone Wars could be with a logline that read, “Star Wars meets Band of Brothers.” I don’t think anyone ever saw my pitch, but I think she was impressed that I knew the universe well enough to have something prepared. I also had written several Star Wars comics [The Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones] as well as having a decade of experience on various animated action-adventure series [Batman, Justice League] that made me a good candidate. I think another big reason I got the job is that I love to collaborate with other creative people, and being able to do that well is a necessity on a project like this. After weeks of writhing in agony and suspense as Catherine met with other writers, I got the thrilling news that I was ‘the chosen one’ and here I am three years later.

How did The Clone Wars go from script to finished animation?

The initial 15 or so story ideas were generated by myself and [director] Dave Filoni. We’d develop the stories into one- or two-page premises, then meet with George Lucas and he would input his ideas. Once George liked a story, we’d go through the outline process to figure out the specific character and plot arcs, and then we’d turn that into a script. Once we were happy, we’d send that back to George for his input. When George liked it, the script went final and the story would go into production, which means characters, ships, and locations are designed by our terrific design team. Then the script is pre-visualized, or storyboarded, by our awesome story team.

When the script goes final, it’s not really ‘final.’ The final script would be the end of the writing process on 95 per cent of animated television series. But at Lucasfilm, George uses movie-like pre-visualization and editorial stages as a big part of the writing process. The great thing about working this way is that you can really refine the story visually, adding and subtracting story elements to build drama and tension. Even though The Clone Wars started as made for television, George wanted a process where he could be involved creatively at every step. So making The Clone Wars series is more like making an animated feature except that every single episode is done this way! As Dave and I came from TV, George would regularly remind us, “We’re not making television here. We’re making cinema.” And that’s why it wasn’t really a surprise when he decided to release The Clone Wars first as a full-fledged animated feature.

It sounds like George Lucas was involved every step of the way.

George is the Alpha and the Omega, and is involved in the story from beginning to end. On The Clone Wars, that means from the initial story idea until the final sound mix. I knew from the moment I got the job that The Clone Wars was going to be George’s show. My job was to execute his vision and I have always tried my best to do that.

Who are the other writers involved?

My chief collaborators were Dave Filoni and George Lucas. Every story idea I had, Dave would hear first and once we got it to a place we liked, we would submit it to George who would bring his own magic. After about the first batch of stories, George got so excited about the show, he started writing his own story outlines! He’d send them over and we’d craft them into scripts. As time went on, George became more involved and wrote more stories and just about every story now comes from ‘The Maker’ himself.

The primary freelance writer I worked with was prolific animation veteran Steven Melching, who was invaluable because he is a great talent and really knows the Star Wars universe well. Then about a year into the project, I got some much needed help at Skywalker Ranch in writer Scott Murphy, who brought his experience as a live action TV story editor to the production for a few months. A couple of other writers I’d like to mention who did solid work on the series were George Krstic, Paul Dini, and Katie Lucas. [The screenwriting credits for the movie go to Gilroy, Melching, and Murphy.]

Are there any characters from the prequels you really wanted to explore?

I really enjoyed writing Obi-Wan Kenobi. Early on, I pushed for a story that gave us a little window into Obi-Wan’s past that added a new dimension to him. I think it really deepens this character that we already love. I had a personal goal to realize every member of the Jedi Council on the screen as a memorable personality that we would want to see again and again. I want to credit Lucas Licensing and the novels and comics creators for laying the groundwork for those characters, which we tried to stay true to. As for original characters in the series, I really enjoyed working with George and Dave to develop Anakin’s relationship with his Padawan, Ahsoka. Their snappy big brother/little sister interaction was a blast to write and I have high hopes for Ahsoka as a character who will soften the heart of even the most skeptical Star Wars fan. Jedi Master Plo Koon was the biggest challenge for me. I have to give all credit to Dave Filoni for really defining his voice. I think Plo is going to be an enduring favorite of fans for a long time.

So how readily did you and Dave Filoni collaborate?

In the early days of the studio, somebody created the nickname “Filroy Gilroni” because we were always together. In the very beginning of development, Dave and I used to meet at this coffee shop in Burbank almost every day and talk Star Wars, and we still talk Star Wars every day. We discuss the films, novels, comics and the stories we are developing and how to execute them thematically and visually, and how the characters interact and grow. Did I mention that the coffee shop is right next door to a Toys “R” Us? After our story meetings we’d go nerd out and see what latest Star Wars goodies were available. Anyway, it’s always been a lot of creative give and take, where I might pitch Dave an idea for a character or a story and the next day he’d email me this amazing concept painting for it. Or he would pitch me a one sentence idea for a story and I’d write it into a two page premise—Plo Koon, hint, hint.

Once I get the stories onto paper as premises, outlines, and scripts, Dave reads everything and his collaboration helps me get it ready for George, as well as production. Because Dave sits in editorial so much with George, he knows better than anyone what George wants. As time went on, George gave us boundaries and then took them away. He challenged us all the time to make it better than just good. One of his favorite quotes as he would finish our meetings was, “Dare to be great!”

We’re excited about the movie, but can you also give us any hints about episodes from the series?

I always tried to give the episodes titles that sounded like they came from the pulpy adventure sci-fi serials of the 1930s that inspired George. Here’s a few that don’t give anything away: “Rising Malevolence,” “Cloak of Darkness,” “Lair of Grievous,” “Downfall of a Droid,” and “Ambush in the Outer Rim.”

Keeping the right tone is critical to having something feel like Star Wars. How do you do that without getting bogged down in formula?

As far as the kind of stories we could tell, George told us that Star Wars could be a forum for any kind of tale. So even though the movie and series are set against the backdrop of The Clone Wars, there are dramas, romances, mysteries, horrors, comedies, and more. The biggest challenge was making the universe feel as large as it is in the existing Star Wars movies within the limitations of an animated movie and TV series, meaning we couldn’t go to three new planets every episode or have 10 new characters. We tried to include new characters in every single episode, extremely difficult on a weekly CG animated TV show. There is the time limitation—the original attack on the Death Star took 20 minutes of screen time, but our entire episodes are only 22 minutes, so it was great to be able to start with a full feature-length movie. It’s always a great challenge to squeeze in all the stuff we love about Star Wars: exotic planets and aliens, epic space battles, exciting lightsaber duels, plus the solid character development that brings it all together into our limited screen time.

How do you capture the voices of characters that fans know inside and out from watching the movies?

I was working directly with George and he created these characters. No one knows them better. The fun part for me was putting the characters we know from the live-action movies in new situations to explore how they would behave. I think Dave and I got it right most of the time, then George would come in and add bits of action, dialogue, and humor that only he can to give it that classic Star Wars feeling.

WHO’S HENRY?

As well as scripting the Dark Horse comic-book adaptations of The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones, writer Henry Gilroy has had plenty of experience writing for animated TV series and movies made for DVD release. Here’s a selection of his pre-The Clone Wars credits:

Transformers: Animated (2008)

Justice League (2004)

Lilo & Stitch: The Series (2003)

Bionicle: Mask of Light (2003)

Atlantis: Milo’s Return (2005)

Timon and Pumba (1995)

The Tick (1994)

Batman (1992)

WRITER’S ROOM

What have the other writers on The Clone Wars done?

Steven Melching

Legion of Super Heroes (2008)