#tori2k

[the-canary]

Irreplaceable - B.B (Epilogue)

Summary:  It’s not even about not noticing what’s in front of you. At this point, it was plain idiocy on both your parts. (Modern/Childhood AU!Reader/Bucky Barnes).

Prompt: “You know that feeling when you’re not your favourite person’s favourite person, and it kind of feels like you’re constantly swallowing sand?”  

A/N: This is for @writingcroissant 2k writing challenge. It was hard as hell to write a balance between loving someone but still trying to be friends/relearn who they are, but I hope it came out well. These events take place in a linear fashion, however their distance from each other is up for you to decide. Please enjoy the epilogue! 

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

Feedback is always welcomed.

Two weeks, Bucky realizes that he has been in loved with a concept, an idea of someone that used to do everything that he wanted in the summer if he pushed her hard enough to. The you of today doesn’t live in that box he molded out of old childhood daydreams and the potential “what-if” he constantly dreamed of.

In two weeks, he realizes that you and the ideal aren’t the same in anyway. You’re so much more than that, and it takes him a good long while afterwards to come to terms with that.

You run your family’s business all on your own, leading its expansion in careful measurements after so many years stateside. You are a dear friend with your own share of crazy adventures that Sam can recall with perfect clarity, much to your annoyance and Bucky’s temporary anger. You’re a great daughter and are involved in so many things back on the West Coast it makes his head spin. However, in some ways you haven’t changed -- you still prefer to stay home and watch old movies than party with the younger Barnes sisters, much to his joy as he comes over during the time you’re there -- baby steps.

But even in those little moments, he can see that you’re stubborn and opinionated, preferring to run to the beat of your drums than anyone else’s anymore. And for a brief instant, James Buchanan Barnes mourns the old you –his childhood friend and the what-if– but he’s even more excited to learn all about this beautiful new version of you.

It’s funny, what had taken you two years to realize had only taken him two weeks.

However, after everything is said and done Bucky Barnes is a weak man that misses those timid smiles and cautious words given to him a month ago, and even though there is calling and texting -- it’s isn’t enough to what he had back in Shelbyville. So, he books a flight for Los Angeles when the Labor Day weekend comes -- he is aware of the uneasiness in your voice, but you let him come anyways.

Downtown Los Angeles isn’t the same as Indianapolis, closer to New York than he has been in a long time. He isn’t as tired as he should be from the four-hour flight, so after getting himself set up in his hotel room he decides to go to your office -- surprise you a bit earlier than intended. It’s a quick walk from where he is staying to your office anyways.

Said office is small with it only occupying one floor of the high tower that it is placed it. At max, James sees a fifteen people working at the moment, but he has to remind himself that your company had satellite offices in different states aside from trying to expands to other countries now. It’s crazy how you can handle all this, he can barely handle moving from Indianapolis to New York when he is needed there, but somehow if anybody could do all this and more -- it would be you.

The receptionist is quick enough to show him where your office is and James swears he is struck breathless for a moment as he sees you standing next to the large windows. The hazy afternoon sun giving you a certain glow, as he can barely understand the language you are speaking to the person on the other line. The receptionist leaves, but he’s still standing there for a good while until your phone call ends and you’re --so elegant in a navy blouse and black skirt-- asking what is he doing here with a cautious look in your eyes.       

“I was thinking we could hang out tonight,” James admits bashfully as you give him an exasperated smile, unsure of what to say for a moment.      

“I can’t do tonight,” you state as his heart drops, but then jumps like a kid on Christmas day over your next statement, “But, I am yours until Tuesday.”

“I can do that,” James nods, trying not to be too obvious about his excitement, though he can’t help but ask,  “What do you have planned for tonight?”

“Business dinner with Tony Stark,” you state, falling into old habits of when Tony was still the CEO, before correcting yourself, “And Mrs. Potts-Stark.”

“Wait, wait! You know the Tony Stark?”

“Trust me, sometimes I wish I didn’t,” you can’t but reminisce on how your disastrous friendship --getting too drunk after a tech conference and throwing up on his suit-- with the older man started, as James waits for an answer.   

Blue eyes watch as your lips quirk up at what seems to be a memory before laughing. You tell him to sit down and proceed to tell him of the horrible first impression you  had made to Tony Stark when you were just an undergraduate and how it proceeded from there.

You make it a point not to spend more than one day alone with James.

It’s too easy to fall into the deluded fantasies that your head and heart after years of desperation could come up with, and how well he could fall into them as well -- it caused you to guard your heart tightly, least you move far and set yourself up for heartbreak once more. It had happened at least twice back in Shelbyville, but you weren’t looking for that with him. You wanted to heal and learn who this new James was. Thus, the small rule you had set up for yourself -- Saturday was completely for him, taking him around all the places that you loved within the place you called home now.

The Getty. Santa Monica. Place you know like back of your hand and James welcomes with amazement.

“Reminds me of Coney Island,” he says with a smile while sitting on the ferris wheel, while looking down at the Pacific Ocean as you keep a tight smile from the other side -- you’ll never get that close again.

Sunday was for everyone else, as you invited friends and business partners to celebrate Labor Day in your home. You’re running around, making sure everything is running smoothly while trying to connect with friends and old business partners. With everything that you were doing, you didn’t notice a pair of blue eyes watching your every move like a love struck puppy -- your friendly demeanor and easygoing smiles, something that he wishes were being thrown his way.

“You should throw him a bone, sweetheart,” Sam can’t help but laugh, as he drags you away for moment. You frown as he motions to a certain man trying his hardest to make it seem like he isn’t looking in your direction.

“You know I can’t do that,” you state harshly and quickly run away from discussing this any further when someone -Tony, it’s always been Tony- starts calling out your name from the back of the small garden you own.

“Bunch of fools,” Sam can’t help but shake his head, as he glances at his girlfriend who can only nod at what she knows Sam is thinking, though Nat understands your line of thinking a bit better.

You’re just trying to protect your heart from the pain that was sure to come out of all this and James was just trying his hardest to prove he wasn’t the same rash child of his youth -- the both of you needed to see this through first before anything else could move forward.   

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and maybe that’s what happens as you stop seeing James for a good while -- his workload catching up to him, long with other things that came with being an adult, as the two of you just can’t seem to find the time to meet up anymore. However, there is always text and phone calls and man, does James try his hardest to keep in touch through those means.

You know it’s him when the clock strikes 10pm.  

“Hey, what’s up?” you speak softly when you hear James’ haggard breathing.

You know it going to be one of those nights, where Bucky just can’t sleep and you’ll be running on barely 2 hours of sleep.

“Same old, same old,” he lets out with a self-deprecating laugh, as he hears you let out a low hum. He almost wants to hang up, but you beat him to it  by asking him how his day was -- make him go through the whole thing in great detail as a distraction.

Bucky doesn’t know when it starts: waking up from his infrequent nightmares turned into calling you in the middle of the night, but it’s usually followed by the best sleep that he’s gotten in the very long time. And maybe because it is the middle of the night or simply because it’s you on the other side of the phone -- Bucky lets his defenses fall just a bit. He talks about his day, his time in the Army, he hopelessly murmurs his hopes and dreams to you -- and when he has the right timing, you’ll answer him back with yours as well.

It last until 2am your time, as sleep slowly starts to claim Bucky, though with promises of something much sweeter this time around. He tells you he’s going to sleep now, as you let out a yawn.

“Thank you, I l--” Bucky in his sleepy haze manages to stop himself from uttering those three words, though his heart aches when you sigh.

“I know, I know,” you mutter hopelessly back but never give him the response he is longing for, “Goodnight, Bucky .”

Your side of the phone clicks signaling the end of the call, but James keeps staring at his dark ceiling for a while longer. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it was definitely a step towards the right direction.

And if Bucky has a goofy, lovestruck on his face for the next couple of days -- nobody dares to tell him.  

James isn’t sure how a night out to get a few drinks with Steve, Peggy, and Nat turned into making fun of the current state of emotions -- all because you were on a date, with someone that clearly wasn’t him, back in Los Angeles.

“I’ve never seen him this mopey before,” James glares at his best friend as Nat shakes her head.

“I’ve seen worse,” is all she answers back with because she and Sam have been through the thick of it with both of you in different ways since the wedding.

James chugs his beer at the thought of seeing you in that dark dress you had sent Nat, who proceeded to show it off to everyone else that had gathered in the bar that night. Because even though the two of you you were sort of friends and sort of something else that didn’t stop you from going out on dinner dates that your other friends and business partners set you up on.

People wanted you to be happy, just like they were, and while you took it with stride and a wisecrack here and there, it was killing him slowly. What if you found someone that complimented you in every single way. What if you finally fell out of whatever it was you had with him? James  didn’t want to lose you, but he didn’t want to suffocate you with his emotions either -- James knew how distant you could be when the need arose for it. Thus, he was stuck in this hurtful limbo.

“You could always go on a date too, James,” Peggy tries to add on as an incentive, like the old Bucky Barnes used to go around and run after any pretty thing that batted their eyelashes at him.  It’s was one night thing or a casual thing that lasted a few dates, but never nothing of substance.

He was slowly coming to realize that with the time he spent with you, the possibility of years of daydreams finally turning into a reality that he couldn’t go back to that type of lifestyle. This was a lifetime sort of thing, like what Steve and Peggy had, like what he saw growing between Nat and Sam.

After all the years apart, after all the damage he had done to you and the relationship you two shared -- he deserved to live with the detachment and silence you couldn’t help but show him sometimes, but he knew it was melting -- the small changes were there...in the fleeting smiles, in the honest laughter, in the talks you had that could last for hours.

“I don’t think I could--” James starts off with a shaky breath, as everyone’s eyes widen at what he might say -- what he is declaring in front of all of them.

However, he is stopped by an all too familiar Nutcracker suite ringtone as Nat picks up her phone.

“ Message: Date ended horrible, call me!” Nat exclaims to everyone as James perks up for just a moment, looking at the redhead with bright eyes, but if he thinks that she is going to call you right then and there -- well, that’s a completely different story.

“Later, lover boy,” is all the redhead says before leaving, a secret smile in her face --over things she already knows-- as she pats Bucky’s back. Steve and Peggy start to prepare to head back home as well,  his declaration completely forgotten, though James knows deep down that he meant every word on the tip of his tongue.

He would gladly be a starving man if meant keeping you in his life after all this time.  

It’s by some miracle that the two of you are spending some of the Christmas holiday in New York, what with you having end of the year meetings with investors and James having to attend a conference. Now, it’s his chance to show you his old hunting ground. It takes you a couple of days to figure out when you could meet up, but James hasn’t stopped grinning since this morning when he took you out for brunch and showed you around the city, though mainly around Brooklyn.

Now, here you here -- on your way to Steve and Peggy’s townhouse to celebrate Christmas with them. However, you were treating it more like a business transaction and had gotten a heap of presents for the people that you knew were coming and the Rogers-Carter children as well, which meant that you and James were carrying four bags full of presents.

“Is all this really necessary?” he can’t help but ask, as the two of you are waiting on the steps for somebody to open the door.

“My parents used to do it all the time,” you explain, thinking back to all those holidays  parties you spent on the West Coast, “Have to make a good first impression.”

“You’re gonna spoil those girls,” Bucky can’t help but remark on the three girls that were used to calling him Uncle, though he can’t help but also think that this is the first holiday that you have really spent together -- back as children, one of you was usually away on trips with your family. With the variety of presents, your festive sweater, and your wide eyes over the decorations outside the home. He just knew you had a soft spot for the holiday. He’s about to say something, but it is stopped when the door opens.

“Uncle James!” a small girl, brown hair with blue eyes who looks around 8 years old, as Bucky yells out Lily.

“You have to forgive her,” Peggy comes into to the picture from behind the door with a smile, “They’re are each other’s favorite.”

“It’s good to see you again, Margaret ,” you nod, as Lily tries to get James to hug her though it isn’t quite possible until he has put all the bags down, which Peggy tries to get her daughter to understand, though the Rogers stubbornness is strong in her.  

Eventually, Lily does get her hug from Uncle James as you are introduced to the three girls that make up the household -- Sarah, Michelle, and Lily-- all a mix of their parents with dark hair but light-colored eyes. For most of the night you are pushed between meeting business associates, helping Peggy, and spending time with Michelle, who has taken a shine to you. It isn’t until close to midnight that you finally allowed a chance to breathe and sit on the couch next to James, as he gives you a shy smile.

“Tired?” he laughs, as you nod while watching the people that are still left exchanging gifts with one another. You’re too lost in the scene to notice that he has placed a long, slim box in front of you that is until you hear something jingle inside.

“You didn’t have you,” you say softly, as he places the box in your hand.

“But, I wanted to,” is all he has to say, as he waits for you to open it, which you do rather eagerly. A daisy linked charm bracelet in all its glory lined up against the black cushion. You give him a smile full of appreciation, as you place the bracelet on your wrist.

You get up for a moment and come back with a medium sized box and hand it to him, “Merry Christmas, James.”  

“Merry Christmas,” he breathes, as he watches you glow underneath the Christmas lights. James proceeds to grab and open his own gift, only for his eyes to widen as he gives you a dubious look due o the item in the box.

“Really?” is all he can manage to say, as he lifts up the bear with a sweater that says Winter Boo Bear as  his head moves back with laughter.

You laugh and slide to James’ right side on the couch as you watch the kids and your other friends signing carols throughout the evening.

It’s springtime when James realizes he hates the season.

It is around the time you left, even now he can’t see you due to all the international traveling you do during this time. He doesn’t want to push you, force you to answer all the texts and calls he wants to send you when you might be working or too tired to answer.

It’s then when he hears the ringing of his cell phone, a huge grin on his face as Steve groans at his best friend’s lovesick state.

Hey, hey, what do you think of this cake?

He didn’t know, you also hated the springtime too.

It’s summer in Shelbyville when you have time to visit once more, though all the activities you had planned in terms of business and travel are pushed back due to your father’s weakening health. It was a scary time for both you and your mother, and as their only child --regardless of your past and how your relationship fluctuated at times-- you needed to be there for them. You stayed through the doctor’s visits and eventually hospitalization, but your father had always been a stubborn man and even in his weakening state always asked what you were doing about the business at hand.

All day watching over them in some way and all night working through all the work that you had been missing was wreaking you in all sorts of  ways.

And maybe, James knew that from the string of late night calls and endless, frustrated texts.

That’s when James gets an idea and decides to head back home --to Shelbyville-- from Indianapolis for the weekend. He keeps it a secret on the Friday he gets there until he gets permission from a smiling George Barnes to use the old blue truck that he used to own back in high school. He asks your mother to make sure you are dressed and prepared on Sunday morning, much to her excitement.

He’s standing on your porch that Sunday morning, while he can hear your mother fussing on the other side of the door that you need to get out and have sometime for yourself, much to your distress. The door opens and you are pushed out, only to be meet with a smiling Bucky.

“Morning,” he declares brightly, while grasping your hand as you are still trying to figure what is going on.

“Bucky,” you gasp out, as he freezes halfway to the truck since you don’t use his nickname often which always causes a pleasant shiver to run down his spine, as he grins, “Where are you taking me exactly?”

“ Everywhere ,” is how he explains it before getting on the driver’s side of the truck and staring down the familiar road.

James stays true to his word and takes you to all your favorite places. You eat lunch at Stan’s Diner. You go to the bookstore and spend more of the early afternoon in the arcade, as you and James fight through the various games, and he wins you small trinkets and plush toys with his skills, only for you to move down the block and watch a late afternoon movie at the local theater. There’s a huge grin on your face the whole day and James couldn’t be prouder of himself.

The sun is slowly sinking into the hazy evening sky, as James takes you to the edge of town though you aren’t sure where he is taking you since you usually stayed within the limits of Shelbyville. You look at him with a questioning look, as James keeps his eyes on the road.

“Where are we going now?” you ask.

“One of my favorite places,” James answers vaguely, as you frown -- just a little weary because you were still too cautious when it came to the past.  

It’s a fifteen minute drive to where the woods are thicker and after you get out of the truck, it’s another ten-minute walk -- that’s when you stop and gasp at the area.

It’s a large meadow that leads to one of the small lakes where the kids love to swim in, though it was empty for this time of day. The tall grass and large pink flowers blend in beautifully with the oranges, pinks, and purples of the setting sun and you can’t help but take a deep breath of the fresh air.

It’s a beautiful sight and you are left in momentary shock. Years of living in the area and you had never seen this place before. It was daunting as it was beautiful.

“I always regretted not showing you this place,” James states as you turn to look at him with great appreciation, “Even, if it’s not the best of times -- it’s always here of you-- I am too, ya know. Always. ”   

“Thank you, James,”  the sincerity and caring tone of his words sending a flood of gratitude and a million other emotions running through your body and fill your heart with a warmth that you hadn’t felt --hadn’t been willing to accept-- in a very long time.  

The sun is golden, as the lake shines beautifully to match its radiance. You glance out of the corner of your eye to see James standing there with the most serene expression you have ever seen on his face.

Your heart stops, as your breath hitches.

Maybe, this is the moment when you truly fall in love with James Buchanan Barnes all over again.

#tori2k #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes childhood friends au #bucky barnes modern au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fan fic #series: irreplaceable #fabiola trying to write

[hiswhiteknight]

Cold Never Bother Me Anyway

This was written for 2K Marvel Challenge Prompt – Are you trying to suggest we take our clothes off?  #tori2k Big congratulations for all the followers @writingcroissant. I hope you all enjoy it!!! I tried to make it gender neutral, but if it's flawed, I'm completely open for suggestions for the future!

Summary: Bucky and reader gets put on a mission in the middle of some winter terrain. They must try to survive the cold together.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warning: Minor cursing, angst, mentions of lack of clothing, smut if you squint

Word Count: 1800

“Whose bloody idea was it to send me to the tundra,” you said running between boulders of ice caps and snow, “And what kind of lunatics build a headquarters here anyway?”

Bucky was trailing behind you, making sure you wouldn’t be followed, “This is not the time to be dramatic – we are not in the tundra,” he followed you left, finally reach a far-off mountain range, hoping to find shelter before your transport can pick up your signal.

You and Bucky were put on a mission to locate and destroy an enemy’s compound. It was just poor luck that it was in the frigid northern hemisphere. A few things went wrong during the mission, like accidentally setting off the alarm, “I’m taking a two-week vacation in Hawaii after this. That’s how long it’ll take for me to dethaw my-.”

“It is your fault we’re in this mess,” you cut a sharp right, finding a tight valley to search through. There had to be a cave or something to find, “If only we would have subdued the dogs, we’d be fine - but NO you thought you could befriend them.”

Looking back at him, “Animals are innocent Barnes,” you yell, “It’s not their fault, their owners are awful monsters.”

“You can save your animal lecture for me later, let’s just find a place to lay low and preferably warm,” he yelled at you. You rolled your eyes at him and continued to run away, “Watch,” you heard him yell, “Don’t move.”

The sound of cracks grabbed your attention, Buck remained still. You looked down and you could now see the large crack in the ice. You were standing on a frozen over river. Building a large compound here on land like this would cause some fracturing and vulnerability in the land, “Shit.”

There was nothing you could do; the ice was going to take you under. Before you could make a move, Bucky leaped where you stood, took his strong arm and tossed you to sturdy ground. Unfortunately Bucky took your place under the water, “Bucky,” you scream out using your hands to shovel under the snow.

You scurried towards the hole, which was starting to freeze over. You worked quickly, roping your back pack around a rock and smashing your leg into the ice, “Grab it, damn it,” you yelled.

Suddenly something strong gripped my ankle. You pulled yourself along the ice, using your backpack to pull Bucky up. His metal arm gripped the ice like picks, but being cautious enough to not cause another cave in.

When he was completely emerged from the water. He breathed heavily on his back with his eyes closed, “You’re an idiot Barnes.” Even for a super soldier, he had to be cold. He didn’t say anything. You were cold too, but he was slowly turning to ice. You got up and pulled him up with you, “Come on, we’ve got to find you some shelter.”

Not too far along the way, you found a cave. You pulled out some of the gadgets packed into your Mary Poppins magic bag. You popped up a tent and a heater like object and sat Bucky inside, “You’re welcome,” Bucky mumbled.

“Right back at you Sparky,” you growled.

“You’re stronger than I thought,” he shivered back.

“Aren’t you like a super soldier,” you question, you shiver now as well, “Doesn’t that mean, ‘cold never bother me anyway’ kind of thing.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “I’m definitely not Elsa, Y/L/N. Subzero freezing temperatures do, in fact, bother me – quite a lot. But right now, I’m more worried about you. Your legs don’t have much time before frostbite begins.”

You tried to push past the thought of Bucky knowing anything about Disney, “Barnes, let’s remember I’m an agent too. I’m thinking up a plan as we speak,” he nodded sarcastically, using his hands to motion towards you, “Look, I read in a book once-.”

“Shocking,” he mumbled.

You pointed your shivering hand at him, “I’d like you to note that I, in fact, detest you.”

“Noted,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

“Look, we can’t keep these ice cubes called clothing on and not get hypothermia, which is setting in. This rinky-dink heater isn’t going to help us. Our body has a natural temperature, it will do whatever it takes to keep it. And these clothes aren’t helping.”

He blinked at you a few times, raising his hand, “I’m sorry – are you? Are you trying to suggest we take our clothes off?”

“If we both want to live, more specifically me, yes – yes that is what I am suggesting.” You felt frustrated and cold in this situation. I mean, yeah, you thought Barnes was attractive. You never acted upon it, well you acted like a school child with a crush – teasing and toying with him, “It’s why I noted my distaste for you.”

He looked at you before undoing his pants button, “You keep tell yourself that cupcake.”

“I’m too cold to argue with you,” you pulled your shirt over your head. Slowly, but surely you unclothed, shivering uncontrollable, but feeling relief from the removal of your frozen clothes.

You continued to shiver, impatiently waiting to intercept your ride home and away from this tundra, “Come here,” he said.

Looking at him in disbelief, “Excuse me.”

“You know the whole-body heat thing, it was your idea,” he opened his arms, “Come on in.” You hesitated for a second, “I note that you detest me and this situation, but Steve would be royally ticked if I let you die an ice cube. We don’t know how long we’ll be here for.”

Taking a deep breath, you push your undies covered body between his arms and legs. He pulled his arms around you, you instantly felt his warmth. A sign escaped your lips, “How are you this warm? You fell into deathly cold water.”

“The whole super soldier thing has some perks.” You leaned into his chest, finally feeling some comfort, “I think this is your way to get me half naked.”

“Qu-est que c’est, what,” you turned to face him, looking bewildered.

You missed the warmth of his chest on your back, so you faced forward again. He placed his chin on your shoulder, near the crevice of your neck, “I think you like me.”

“Thou thinkith much of thy self,” you whisper harshly.

He chuckled, and you noticed the feel of his beard on your skin – you liked it. It took you everything not to smile, thankfully the cold still bothered you, “Calm yourself Shakespeare, nothing is wrong with a crush. It’s flattering.”

“God, my distaste for you has truly no bounds.”

You could tell he was still smiling into your neck, “Some people think there is a fine line between hate and love.”

“And some people are stupid,” you shout out.

“That is the sound of passion and denial,” he continued to push, while pulling you closer to his body.

He finally got under your skin, you pushed away and accepted the cold, but Barnes didn’t accept that. He grabbed your wrist and spun you to be tight against his chest, facing him, “You are impossible.”

“Or,” he said at a whisper, “I also have a crush on you and I’m determined to take advantage of this moment.”

You looked up, you were too cold to play games or fight anymore. And you weren’t about to let him make the first move, “You’re literally so annoying,” and you pulled him into a deep kiss. He wrapped his arms tighter around his body, “For the record, I’m only doing this to keep as warm as possible,” you said against his lips.

He laughed again, giving you the biggest smile, “Whatever you have to say to convince yourself sunshine.”

You continued to smile, “Shut up.”

Your lips met his again, you loved the way he felt on your skin and lips, “I think I’m going to vomit,” you head shot up. Sam’s voice came outside the tent. He unzipped the tent, “Woah, get some clothes on, ya nasties.”

Captain and Natasha’s faces could be seen behind him, “For warmth,” you screamed awkwardly, “We fell in some water.”

Bucky’s arms shot up in annoyance, “Wanda, can you get us some suits from the jet,” Captain said into his speaker, “Doing alright there, bud,” he asked more to Bucky, “Feeling comfortable?”

“Yeah, Steve – our clothes are frozen, we’re sitting in subzero temperatures; we’re peachy,” he mumbled back.

Wanda ran into the cave looking at the two of you in the tent, “Finally,” she sighed, tossing you both the jumpsuits. You and Bucky quickly separated and dressed.

“Now that the mission is over, and we’ve got these two love birds, can we blow this Popsicle stand,” Sam shivered himself, still holding a smirk, “I’m freezing.”

“Let’s go home,” Steve said, gripping your shoulder before watching you scurry away from this situation. He looked to Bucky, “Good job,” he smiled.

Bucky shrugged, “It was a simple mission,” he pushed it off, making it onto the jet.

Steve chuckled under his breathe, “No, I know you could handle that. I meant, good job getting Y/N,” he gestured to you, “Took you long enough to make a move.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled looking down before finding his seat near you.

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” Sam sang waltzing past the both of you.

You clenched you fists, trying not to make eye contact with Bucky. You had to get your nerve back, as well as the feeling to your limbs. When you got back to the compound, everyone got of the jet quickly, mumbling about a debrief in the morning. You were nearly off the jet when Bucky grabbed your arm, “Can I take you to dinner tomorrow night?”

You were starting to feel yourself again. And you couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky or his lips on the ride back home, “Sure,” you smiled at him. He nodded at the group, smiling back at you, before walking back down the ramp, “Bucky,” he stopped to look back at you. You started to talk down towards him, “I was thinking, before the meeting tomorrow we should debrief ourselves.” He looked at you confused, “Want to help me debrief in my room,” you tapped him on his cheek, before walking all the way down the ramp, “What do you say super soldier,” you grinned.

He grinned back, “I’m glad to see your distaste for me hasn’t stopped you from your professionalism.”

“Shut up or I might just debrief myself,” you started to walk backwards in direction of your room.

“Not necessary,” he stalked after you, “Though for authenticity of the report, I think we should mimic our conditions without the bitter cold.”

Shaking your head, you rolled your eyes, “Are you trying to suggest we take our clothes off?”

He caught up to you, pulling you against him, “Only for authenticity,” he grins at you some more.

“I like where you mind is going,” you continue.

He lifts you up in his arms, “You have no idea, Y/N. But I plan on showing you.”

“Get a room,” Sam yells from the hallway.

“Plan on it,” you yell back. Bucky laughs and starts carrying you to his room.

#tori2k #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #writing challenge #hiswhiteknight #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #anst #gender neutral reader

[officially-tonynat-shrine]

Your Idiot (Sam Wilson x Reader)

A/N: Hello, beautiful people and welcome to another episode of Pavi tries too hard. Guys, I've never been so proud of something but here we are, my second one shot and I'm feeling all sorts of emotions. Fkshja, if you are still reading this then tHaNK yOu for staying. This is for @writingcroissant Tori's challenge, which was due like 20 days ago!!!!!!

Pairing: Sam Wilson x reader

Words: 963 // Warnings: one swear, that's it. I swear.

Prompt: Don't get up! I'll do it. (Prompt will be in bold)

Summary: Sam is an adamant twat and he always wins.

•••••

The gentle sunlight streamed into the room through the open window just as Sam entered. He halted at the door, taking in the view in front of him. The bedroom looked quite ordinary. Nothing out of the blue. His eyes wandered around the room and decided to stop, as always, on you. Sleeping on the king sized bed just below the window, you looked at peace. Beautiful when at peace, is what everyone told you. Never had once Sam agreed. For him, you were always a goddess. Heavenly, he would argue.

A small smile graced his features as he leaned on the door, hands crossed. He did not move. Not even when you stirred in your sleep and unknowingly faced him.

Natasha said he was whipped. But Sam, being the romantic he was, would always correct her. He was in love.

His eyes sparkled as he traced your movements. The small smile turned into a smirk. He walked in and sat beside you, the bed dipping in. He closed his eyes and taking your hand in his, he kissed it softly. He opened his eyes and softly tucked some stray strands of hair behind your ear.

"Are you going to speak or are you going to stay like that?"

He squeaked as you raspily spoke.

"Woman, you're going to be the death of me." He mocks a gasp and places a hand over his heart. The other hand, you notice. One is still holding yours. You giggle sheepishly.

"How are you feeling?"

"Quite good, now. I'll be up and about in a few hours." You smirk at the thought of finally being able to run around the Tower wrecking havoc again. Bed-rest sucked.

Sam frowned a bit.

"Are you sure, darlin'?" He whispered sweetly.

You broke eye contact with him trying to focus. God, two years together and you still stuttered around him.

"Sweetheart?" His voice broke your reverie.

"Huh? Oh yeah, yeah. I'm pretty sure. Why are you asking?"

"Your wounds, they're not yet fully healed are they?"

How can he even scrunch his eyebrows so much?! Moreover, how the fuck does he look so goddamn cute?!

You shook your head, trying to concentrate.

"They aren't, but they'll be soon. Don't worry, Sam."

"Baby, you of all people should know that I'm more of a mother-hen than Mr. Righteous Steven."

You snorted at his jab on Steve. Yawning a bit, you get up and stretch.

"It's okay, honey. I'll be fine." You smile at him and remove the blanket covering you.

Honey. He was your honey. You had always called him honey. And it always muddled his brain. He'd probably stop eating hot dogs if it meant that you'll call him honey while smiling that breathtaking smile.

"No. No, no, no, no. No. You're still not recovered properly. You ain't getting up from here." He placed a hand on your shoulder and another on your waist and pushed you gently back into the bed.

"But Sam," you whined, stretching the 'a', "Helen told me I'm okay to move."

"Absolutely not. I want my queen to be hundred percent healed."

"Sam," you hissed trying to hide your giddy smile. How the fuck were you supposed to argue with such a smooth talker?

"Alright, let's negotiate."

You stared at him. You knew the look on his face. He was certainly up to something.

"Sam, whatever tricks you have up your sleeves you better leave them there." You warned him.

He smirked. That little shit actually smirked.

"Don't tell me you are afraid to negotiate, princess."

"You damn well know that I don't back down from a challenge, Wilson." You growled.

He stared at you with that stupid shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

Sam knew that you'd do anything to wipe that grin off his face. Any minute now.

"Fine," you pouted. Crossing your arms you leaned further into your pillow. "What do you propose?"

"Well, I have two things in my mind but let's just go with the first one. It's easier."

You beckoned him to continue.

"Do twenty push ups."

"What?!"

"You heard me, honey."

"But babe, I am still recovering! I'll pull a muscle!"

He knew that your back and legs were badly hurt during the mission. If he made you do push ups it'll- Oh, that little twat.

Sam was outright grinning. You knew what was coming.

"Ah, see. You said it yourself. You are still recovering. So no getting up."

You grumbled. Poking your tongue out you looked away.

"Ah, come on, baby. You know I hate it when you're angry at me." Sam coaxed.

When he got no reply he climbed on the bed and moved closer to you.

Snaking his arms around your waist, he pulled you closer to him. He rested his head in the crook of your neck.

"Babygirl?" He whispered. "Come on, love. I just want to see you hurt again. Lord knows I almost had a heart attack during the mission."

You sighed as he peppered kisses on your neck. He snuggled closer (if that was possible at all) and kissed your cheek.

"Sunshine?"

You swore that at that moment you'd found your bliss. This was it. He had you surrendered to his charms just as much as you had him wrapped around your fingers.

"Okay, but!-" you stopped him from rejoicing, "only for today. Tomorrow, I am going to run around the Tower."

"As you wish, princess. If you want help in something, just call for me. Don't get up. I'll do it."

He gave you one last kiss before getting out of the bed.

"I'll be back with pancakes." He sang and strutted out of your room. You shook your head at his antics. You were so in love with your idiot.

••••

Edit: I'm tagging @irndad bc she had posted something abt wanting to write a Sam fic and my dumb ass thought that it was a Sam Wilson fic (it was actually abt a Sam Winchester fic, girl pls write it) but I'm a hoe so imma tag her. God I'm sweating rn. Thanks for reading the whole thing @irndad idk how you read it. I'm really nervous, god.

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson one shot #marvel one shot #tori2k #your idiot

[tasharii]

Just Listen

A/N: I actually finished it. Didn’t think I would for a minute there. Got lost in a horrible editing loop. This is for @writingcroissant ‘s 2k challenge. I picked some dialogue from the Angsty/Dramatic Prompts. First time writing Tony Stark, hope I did him justice. The smut starts directly below the break. Please let me know what you guys think <3

Pairing: Reader x Tony Stark

Warnings: fluff, some angst, a touch of smut

Word Count: 4.5K

Masterlist

Tony pressed you firmly down into the soft mattress. His hips moved urgently against yours, his left hand squeezed your upper thigh, keeping it raised and over his shoulder. Your fingers were interlaced with his own above your head. His lips brushed against yours. No longer meeting in any semblance of a kiss. Just touching and sharing the same breath. Your skin was slick with sweat, equally his and yours. Everything was hot, and you were desperate for him. Desperate for release as he drove you higher and higher.

One more well aimed thrust had you gasping out his name like a prayer. Like a mantra. You surged up and kissed him with a whine, the nails of your free hand scraped down his back hard. His hips stuttered, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, shouting your name in return. Calling out a slew of praises as he dropped open mouth kisses against your shoulder and chest. Each kiss made sparks of pleasure dart across your skin.

Then you both stilled. There was a quiet moment where you clutched onto each other. Both in your own high. Every breath he took brushed your neck and your own breathing started to sync with his. Your fingers carded through his hair and his thumb stroked your hand where he still tightly held it. The room was quiet except for the central air that whispered across your flushed skin from the vent near the bed. It was drifting towards mid-morning and you needed to get around soon for training. Steve would bust a blood vessel if you skipped out again, but you didn’t want to leave the safety of this room.

After another blissful moment, you moved first, shifting your leg off his shoulder and letting your feet finally touch the mattress. Jumbled blankets covered your toes and you groaned at the sensation of stretching your legs. They were above your head for far too long, but it was worth it. Your free hand brushed down across his back, feeling the curve of Tony’s muscles. Then you tangled your fingers back in his wrecked hair and kissed the crown of his head. He hummed in pleasure and it tickled your shoulder.

There was a long pause before Tony rolled off you with a groan. He sat up and discarded the condom into the trashcan. Then stretched, spine popping. Absently, you admired the way his body glowed in the golden morning light coming from the floor length windows. Tony scratched at his head and stood in all his naked glory. Peeking back over at you, he winked and strolled across the room. His bedroom. Where you had spent the night.

Reluctantly, you sat up and watched as he stopped for a second to pull on a clean pair of boxer briefs. Then went over to the minifridge he kept by the makeshift bar, like in a damn hotel room. Tony pulled your favorite sugary drink from the minifridge. He kept them stocked up now, you were there so often. Then he lingered by the bar and poured himself a glass of scotch. Before finally coming back to the bed.

He always did that. Immediately got up and left the bed for a minute. Used to, it was for a lot longer. Used to, he would get dressed and start checking on something with Friday. The news, or texts, or stats for a project. He didn’t really care if you stayed or not.

Used to, you would inevitably end up leaving. If he started to ignore you, you would head out. That wasn’t something you would put up with.

Things were different now.

Tony plopped back beside you on the bed and handed you your drink. Put in a glass with ice and everything. Grateful, you took a drink and smiled. The cold felt great when you swallowed, and the sugar woke you up. Obviously, you would still need some hot caffeine later, but this was perfect for now.

The blankets fell back off the bed when Tony kicked them out of the way. He adjusted a pillow against the headboard and lounged back against it. Quietly, he nursed his glass of scotch on the rocks. You hated the burning flavor of scotch until you started to identify it with the taste of Tony's mouth. Now it wasn’t so bad.

You took a few drinks from your glass before stretching across him to place it on the bedside table. Then you scooted down, so you could curl up against his chest. One of your legs over his. Hand on his toned stomach and cheek above the glowing arc reactor. Your finger traced the circle, and down his chest, just feeling him. His free hand cupped your shoulder, rubbing down your bare back.

There was something comforting about him holding you like this. 

A familiar feeling started whispering up from your heart. It crawled into your throat and pressed relentlessly at your tongue. You shoved it down and away for probably the hundredth time. You couldn't feel that way. It wouldn’t work. Ever.

Tony's hand came up to your hair and started to stroke his fingers through it. Untangling it. Wherever he touched you, made your skin shiver in delight. He stroked your side and hip, then back up to your hair. You hummed in appreciation when he repeated the process. His hands were rough. Testaments to all the hard work he did. 

Sometimes, they even still had oil stains on them. Especially if he just came to you from the shop. When that happened, he would smear those stains across your skin and leave a map of every place he had been on your body. You wanted those stains to stay forever so you wouldn’t forget. Wanted him to stay even longer.

"You're thinking loudly." Tony stated dryly, sitting his empty glass beside yours, "It’s giving me a headache." He arched his eyebrows, staring down at you smugly.

You slapped his bare stomach, making him squawk. He pinched your side in return and you scrambled up to straddle him. To hopefully get the upper hand. It didn’t matter that you weren’t wearing a shred of clothing. Tony was the only one here to witness your body. And you knew he appreciated every inch of it.

Tony brought up his hands as if to push you off, but you caught his wrists. Then trapped them over his head against the headboard. He could break free if he wanted. Despite all your training with Nat, you were only human. Tony was still stronger than you. But he didn’t. He relinquished himself beneath you and you glared as menacingly as you could, "Its rude to make fun of me." You declared, chiding him.

Tony smirked and gasped, "Oh? I had no idea you were so sensitive. Pardon me. I was just trying to ask what such a beautiful woman like you had to think so hard about." Sarcasm dripped from every word and his eyes trailed down your exposed curves. It felt like a burning, physical caress.

Ignoring the blush that heated up your chest, you scoffed and drifted closer, "Flattery will get you nowhere." Your grip on his hands loosened, and you shifted on his lap. Pretending not to notice, you rolled your hips down against the thin layer of cloth separating him from you. Amused at how his mouth popped open, you kept your expression carefully neutral. Like you had no idea why he was glaring at you now. Tony squeezed his eyes shut and took a settling breath. Then he peered up at you again, mischievously chuckling.

Tony leaned up towards you and flexed his wrists. His muscles strained to lift him forward despite his arms staying back. Of course, he smirked like the ass he was, "I've found flattery can get me everywhere." His brown eyes flickered down suggestively, and you released his wrists immediately.

Sitting back, you waved your hands up in an exaggerated shrug, exasperated, "God! Do you even hear what comes out of your mouth?" Despite being annoyed, you found yourself smiling fondly. Tony’s quirks were part of the reason you were drawn to him.

Instantly, he took advantage and flipped you over so that he could pin you down in return. His hands held your wrists against the sheets on either side of your head. One of his knees pressed between your thighs. Part of his weight was positioned on top of you, bare chest against your own. In an all too familiar position. He chuckled and pecked your lips, "Actually, sometimes I have Friday record what comes out of my mouth, so I can reference my genius later." He snickered, irritatingly self-righteous.

"You're such an egotistical ass." You grumbled, fighting off the smile trying to pull at the corners of your mouth. Stubborn, you bit your bottom lip and scowled.

"You love it." Tony argued, releasing your wrists. He readjusted so he could balance on weight on one arm. Then sweetly brushed your hair out of your eyes and ran his hand down your side, across your hip. There was so much fond affection in his eyes that you felt your heart swell. So full it might burst.

Softly, with so much affection, you confessed, "I love you." And there it was. The words you had been denying yourself. Forcing back. The words you never wanted to truly say. All color drained from your face and your mouth opened and closed. You wanted to take it back, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak a single word.

"Woah." Tony froze, eyebrows knitting together. He swallowed, and you could see the thousands of thoughts racing through his head. They flashed across his eyes in fragmented thoughts and sparks. A wide range of expressions flitted across his face. Too fast for you to process.

You wanted to cry.

Instead, you backtracked the moment you remembered how to talk, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I mean. I did. But I didn't want to... I don’t want to." Your hands came up to his cheek, but then you stopped yourself. Hands lingering in the air for a second before you closed them into fists and held them tight to your chest. Above your racing heart.

He slowly sat up, still mute. Got off you and crossed his legs, staring at you. You got up too, panic making your fingers cold. Feeling vulnerable and small, you tugged up part of the tangled blankets and covered yourself. Hugged the plush comforter tightly against your chest.

Tony was still just watching you. Hadn’t even blinked. Uncharacteristically quiet. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, elbows on knees. His thumb brushed over his mouth and he bit it, deep in thought.

Too many words fought to leave your mouth. So, a small whine escaped, and you bit your bottom lip to repress it, "I'm sorry." Why did you just keep apologizing? The bed felt too soft now and you hoped you could just sink into it. Let the world swallow you up.

"Why?" Tony finally asked, a crease between his brows, frowning. His voice was quiet and confused, like he was still trying to catch up. As if you overloaded him.

"Wh-Why?" You blinked back embarrassed tears and made them flow inside instead. Ignored the burning in your eyes and the copper taste of panic in the back of your throat. Shaking your head, a hysterical bubble of laughter burst from you. It was hard to breathe.

"Why are you sorry?" He elaborated, even though you knew what he had meant. Just didn’t understand why he was asking in the first place. Tony waved his hands at you, still unwaveringly studying every minute move you made.

You squeezed the fistfuls of the blanket, tugging at it. The fibers strained against your fingers. It took everything you had not to run away like a damn damsel, "Because... this wasn’t supposed to happen." You roughly pointed between the two of you and glared, "Just sex. Just let off some stress. No feelings or attachments. I just—" You huffed, voice embarrassingly emotional and looked away from him for a second. Maybe you could breathe again, "I can’t do this anymore. At least you know why." Your rubbed at your damp eyes and scooted over to the edge of the bed. Just needed to get dressed and leave. Leave with whatever dignity you might have left.

"Wait wait wait wait wait." Tony muttered quickly, shaking his head, "You can't just leave on that." He caught your wrist and you groaned in frustration. He kept you from yanking away and whispered your name gently. It hurt to hear him say it. Ripped at the seams of your heart.

"There isn’t anything left to say." You exclaimed, still trying to get away. You pressed the hand he was holding against the bed, shuffling just a bit further away. You wouldn’t look at him. Couldn’t. If you did, you would end up begging him to say it back.

"Yes there is." Tony stressed, crawling closer to you. He touched your shoulder with his free hand and stroked your arm. He wrapped his arms around your waist over your blanket and pulled you back against his chest. The hug was so tender and sweet. Like he was afraid you might break. In that moment, you thought you might.

"What do you expect me to say?! I’ve screwed my heart up enough over you-" You shouted, drifting towards distraught. Tremors made your shoulders shake and he hugged you tighter.

"Y/N—" He started, lips against your shoulder but you cut him off.

"I can’t do this friends-with-benefits thing anymore." You stared down at his hands. They were clenched against the grey blanket. Tears finally pooled over your eyes and dripped onto his skin. Surprised, his hold on you loosened and you yanked away from him. Managed to clamber off the bed and stood up with the blankets trailing after you like a robe.

"Y/N!" Frustrated, Tony shouted your name and it echoed through the room. You stumbled a few steps away, trying to find your scattered clothes. The sound of him bellowing your name made you bristle.

"What?!" You half turned and cried back at him, waving your hand at him, “What could you possibly—”

"Can you just shut up for a minute!" Tony yelled, and your mouth snapped shut. You glared at him but stayed quiet and Tony huffed, "Finally. Fucking Christ." He scrubbed a hand down his face and looked at you again for another long minute. Hand over his mouth.

Enough time passed that you opened your mouth to say something again. Then he pointedly jabbed a finger at you. So, you stayed silent. Just stood there wrapped in a comforter. Arms crossed and tears drying on your skin. In the quiet, your heart settled, and you sniffled. The water works dried up and you were left with just an insistent, hollow ache behind your ribs.

Eventually he nodded, as if deciding something, and shrugged, clapping his hands together, "Alright. That settles it then." The sudden words made you flinch, and you blinked, confused.

He stood up from the bed and you watched him incredulously, barely containing shouting at him again. Tony strolled across the room, relaxed and even smiling just a bit, "Friday." He called, carding his fingers through his hair. Irritatingly composed, he paused in front of his full-length closet mirror and played with his hair. Styling it with practiced ease.

"Yes Mr. Stark?" The AI’s question startled you. You turned, and took a couple more steps from the bed, and picked up your underwear from near the bar. Face twisted in disbelief, you kept quietly watching Tony work.

"Cancel all my afternoon meetings." Tony opened his closet and started sorting through his clothes, tugging out a pair of jeans. He got one leg in and hopped a couple times before he managed to shove in the other and button them up.

"Certainly sir. Shall I inform Roger's that you won’t be attending training this afternoon?" He paused, staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully. Then he shrugged and moved over to his dresser, opening one of the top drawers.

"Ya and let him know Y/N won’t be there either." The casual way your name slipped off his tongue made you frown even more. What did you have to do with anything?

"Of course."

"What the fuck-" You protested only Tony held up his hand again and cut you off. His back was still to you and you thought about throwing something at his head. He pulled on a t-shirt and strolled over to the other side of the bed, opposite of where you hovered. Not even looking at you, he picked his phone up off the nightstand. Then he typed away at it.

You dropped the blanket to the floor and kicked it for good measure. Slowly growing livid. Clenching your jaw, you snatched your bra off the minibar counter. Only glowered over at him again when he started talking.

"Make a reservation at that one restaurant on 8th street. Ya know. The one with the garden." He waved his hand as he spoke, words hurried and demanding. Tony adjusted his shirt so that the arc reactor was situated properly.

"On it."

"Tony..." You growled, voice low as you clasped your bra back. He finally looked at you. Eyes wide. In fact, he went a little pale and swallowed nervously. You crossed your arms and glared at him.

He tucked his phone in his back pocket, eyes flickering over your angry expression, "And um... send up some flowers and candy. The kind I've got saved under I've Fucked Up Again."

"Certainly sir."

You snatched your white button up shirt off the floor at the foot of the bed and roughly tugged it over your head. Then you gave him a very dirty look before stalking towards the door, on a mission to find your pants. The carpet was soft against your bare feet and goosebumps trailed down your thighs from the cool draft.

Tony was saying something, but your ears were ringing. Your ears were ringing, head pounding, and stomach twisting. All of it steamed from Tony Stark. Fuck your pants were in the living room. Of course. You made it to the door. Opened it a crack, but then it got slammed shut again. The resounding CLICK that the action caused was so close to your nose that you flinched, cursing in surprise. Tony pinned you against it from behind, hand shoving the door close next to your head

"Where are you going?" He asked, so casually it made you angrier. There was even a playful smile in his words. Your blood boiled.

"Away from your very irritating face. Now get off." You snapped back, glaring at him over your shoulder. You tried to turn the knob for the door again, but his bulk kept you from being able to step back far enough to pull it open.

He kept you restrained with his torso and legs, running his hands down your arms. The soft sleeves of your shirt bunched under his palms. Trying, but failing, to soothe you. The material of his shirt and jeans scratched at your mostly bare skin. He cupped your hand over the door handle, stroking your fingers, "And why would you want to do that?" His breath brushed against your ear. The deep lull of his voice made your heart skip.

"Because you're a pompous asshole and maybe if I get through the door your egotistical head will be too big to follow me." Your tone was biting and cold. Bucking back against him, you tried to wiggle away. Even with your hands pushing against the door to shove him back, he didn’t budge.

Tony snorted at that and laid his forehead against the top of your head, "Good one.” Between your jerking and his movements, your shirt hiked up your back.

"Thanks, now get the fuck off."

He hesitated for a second before stepping away only to grab your hand and whip you around. He pinned your wrists over your head. Probably for the 5th time that day. If you weren't so angry, it might have turned you on. Tony was taller than you, blocking out the overhead light. Intimidating, cocky, and so smart. A deadly combination. Now, though, he was smiling at you. Sweeter than he normally showed anyone. Your stomach fluttered with butterflies.

It didn’t change that he was mean five seconds ago, though. Him fighting to keep you there didn’t change that you still didn’t understand why or that he had told you to shut up. Then ignored you to rearrange his schedule. You shrieked in frustration, "Tony! I will kick you in the dick. Don’t test me!" You lifted your foot threateningly.

Grimacing at the threat, he bravely stepped closer and parted your legs with his knee. The position made your threat harder to follow through with, but it also brought him distractingly closer. His jeans scratched at your bare inner thighs, "Will you just listen for a second.” Tony insisted and your glare softened just a fraction, “If you leave now. You'll miss dinner." He stated matter-of-factly. Tony always knew the affect he had on you and god was it getting harder to kindle your rage. The statement made you pause. It wasn’t anywhere near time for dinner.

You stilled and frowned suspiciously, "What dinner?" With his body so close, you felt warm again. Like you were covered in a blanket. His cologne curled tauntingly around you. Familiar and comforting. He tilted his head and frowned, the teasing turn of his lips dropped.

Tony rolled his eyes, exasperated, "Our date. The one I just made reservations for. Were you thinking too loudly to hear me again?" His eyes searched yours imploringly, thumb stroking the inside of your wrist.

Confused, you relaxed back against the door, "Why did you do that?" Your voice dropped to an almost whisper. A glimmer of hope made your heart squeeze up into your throat. Your toes curled against the carpet, relaxing made his knee press more firmly between your legs in the best, yet worst, sort of way.

Tony released your wrists and cupped your face in his hands, stroking his thumbs across your cheekbones, "I know were doing this backwards. But I still want to do it right." He was so close and genuine that you wanted to kiss him again. His words were more vulnerable than you had ever heard him sound in the daytime. He only opened up like this in the odd hours of the night, when the darkness made him feel braver.

All the dots connected in your head in an instant. Your heartbeat sped up and all of your residual irritation swept away. A slow impish grin grew across your lips. Then you brought your hands up to hold his against your cheeks, nuzzling into his touch, "Do what exactly?"

Tony glared, unamused at you feigning ignorance, "You know what." His hands slid down to your neck, then shoulders. He focused on fixing the collar of your shirt, pursing his lips to keep from smiling himself. Ignoring your imploring stare. Relief made his body relax even further against yours, slotting himself with you like he was made to be there. Never further than an inch apart.

The wood of the door was cold against your back. You reached behind him and tucked your hands in his back pockets. Tugging his hips firmly against yours by his ass and squeezed. He softly moaned.

"I’m listening." You sang with a smirk, you bit your lip to try and contain it. Tony dropped his head down and you angled your away when he tried to kiss you. His lips brushed over your jaw and he bit lightly.

Groaning in annoyance, Tony gave you a dirty look, scandalized, "You're the worst." He pouted, gripping your hips firmly. His thumbs circled the hem of your underwear, teasingly dipping just beneath it.

"Use your words." You giggled. It was easier for you to ignore his advances than it was for him to withstand yours. Heat coiled in your core, but you disregarded it for now. In favor of getting what you wanted. Standing up on your toes, you tilted your head, as if to kiss him. His breath brushed your lips, stooping to close the space, only for you to duck away. A second time.

Tony sulked like a child. Eyebrows together and lip poked out. You raised your eyebrows innocently. Then he let go of your hips. Slowly, he propped his elbows above your head and supported his forehead against his forearms. Staring down at you with a 'are you serious?' expression.

You stared back, smug this time. Deadly serious. Crossing your arms, you noticed his eyes dart to your chest, you snickered.

A minute passed before he conceded, taking in a deep breath to clear his thoughts. He rolled his eyes one more time, acting so put out, then slowly stated, "You, Y/N Y/L/W, and I are going to try this relationship thing. Ya know. Going steady or whatever people call it now." Tony explained slowly, annunciating every word properly. With him leaning over you like that, you had to tilt your head up to watch him. It was like he physically took up your world right then. Wrapped you up in a safe cocoon where he could protect you.

You snorted at his exaggerated way of spelling it out for you. Your hands curled around the waistband of his jeans and you ran a finger over the button, another across his boxers underneath. He stared at you suspiciously and you prodded, "And why all of the sudden, are you changing our relationship status exactly?" Your tone was overly inquisitive and proper, while your hands made it difficult for him to think straight.

Still, his face softened in fondness, "Because I love you too." Tony replied with so much conviction that any further teasing you wanted to do died in your throat. You definitely heard that loud and clear. Now you just wanted to show him how much you loved him in return.

"Oh." You whispered, hands stilling and then you ran them up his chest to wrap around his neck. Brought him down closer to you.

Tony nodded and clicked his tongue, "I know right? Scary. You're gonna be stuck with my egotistical ass." He ducked his head so that he could finally brush his lips against yours while you were distracted. This time you didn’t pull away and he confided, "It’s a tragedy." He drifted back only a thread apart and you felt his words form against your mouth, "I feel sorry for you."

You smiled and kissed him again, slowly. A hint of scotch coated his mouth. Your fingers curled in his hair and you affectionately moved your lips against his before pulling back to take a breath, "I feel sorry for both of us." You whispered back, and Tony kissed your cheek, nuzzling against you.

"Why?” His hands dropped down and he felt down your body, going back under your shirt and fiddling with the clasp of your bra. You could practically feel him debating on releasing it again.

"Cause we've turned into these disgustingly mushy lovebirds. Its gross." You whined, as if it was the worst thing in the world. He laughed, and the sound vibrated sweetly down into your toes. Straight to your heart.

"Oh God how could you do this to me?" Tony lamented, burying his head in the crook of your neck. He hugged you, almost clung to you. In a way that let you know he didn’t want you to go anywhere. Didn’t care about anything other than making you happy right now. With him.

You turned your head and kissed his ear, confessing, "I love you." It felt so good to say it with confidence. To be able to say it and not be afraid of repercussions.

Tony stood up straight, wrapping his arms around your waist. He gave you another one of his rare, genuine smiles that made him glow, "I love you too."

He kissed you deeply then, scruff brushing against your cheeks. Tony’s tongue slipped into your mouth and his hands gripped under your ass. Then he lifted your legs around his waist. You held tight around his neck, keeping his lips against yours. Firmly, he slammed you firmly against the door. You groaned and could already feel his need through his jeans.

The date would have to wait.

#tori2k #Marvel Universe #marvel fanfiction #marvel #tony stark #writing challenge #romance #fluff and angst #fluff and feels #smut #tony x reader #tony stark x reader #reader insert #tashariiwriting

[smol-berry-bean]

Written for @writingcroissant 2k Marvel Writing Challenge! Thank you for letting me be a part of this!

Prompt: All you ever do is break my heart and I’m done with it.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angstttt, some language, doesn’t make Bucky look like a good person honestly, a small bit of cheating mentioned, I think that’s it?

Summary: You find out Bucky is cheating after having a weird on and off relationship with you, and you decide its time to leave him

-

Being with Bucky had always been really easy. He was always so lovely. Hard to get him to open up at first, but once he did, he told you everything he could. You did the exact same thing, telling him everything and anything he wanted to know. You two had clicked. Fallen in love.

But something changed. After being together for a while, he got distant. Less loving and caring. Suddenly he was called out to a mission, without your knowledge, and didn’t come back for a few months. When he returned, he broke off your relationship, telling you he didn’t hold feelings for anymore. Saying that it had gotten boring for him.

After a while of you avoiding him at all cost, he approached you. Charming you all over again, promising he wouldn’t leave you alone like that again. And you let him. You both seemed to fall for each other all over again. At least that’s how it seemed to everyone else.

A few months later, a nasty but dumb argument blossomed between you two. It was just about him leaving to go on a mission for months, but you didn’t want that. You knew something was off about that mission. He left anyway, breaking it off with again before he went. They didn’t return for six months. Him, Sam, and Natasha. You were beyond worried the whole time, more for Sam and Natasha. Since the thought of Bucky tore you to pieces.

The same pattern occurred and within the month he had you wrapped around his finger once more. This time though, he broke it off because of someone else. You didn’t know who she was, but she did work for Shield. The first time you saw her was at a movie night, her and Bucky were curled up together. You left for bed early and ended up crying yourself to sleep.

After about three months, their relationship died out and he came running back to you. Making of obvious that you were turning into a sort of rebound for him and his problems. Yet you still decided to go back to him. He was like a safe haven for you, you loved being with him.

“Bucky.” You said softly, trying to shake him awake. His eyes slipped open and he looked up at you through lidded eyes. His arms loosened around you and pushed himself over onto his other side. “Thank you.”

You stepped over to the bathroom, doing your business. You stopped at the mirror, seeing your worn down reflection. You guys had just gotten back from a rough mission, one you’d taken many hits from. After a small argument between you and Bucky about how you couldn’t follow orders, you both went to bed on separate sides of the bed.

The longer you looked at yourself in the mirror, the more the bags under your eyes seemed to deepen. Sighing, you rubbed your eyes and stumbled back into the bedroom before making your way to the compound's kitchen.

Two cups of coffee later, Bucky joined you and placed a small kiss on the side of your head. He rested his chin on your shoulder and rubbed your arms slowly. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, kissing your shoulder lightly. You turned your head toward him and gave a small smile, “I’m sorry too.” Placing a soft kiss to his lips, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug.

A light ringing sound filled the room, causing you both to pull away. You spotting Buckys phone on the counter and picked it up, answering it. “Hey hun, you need anything from the store?” A woman’s voice filled your ear, and you didn’t really know what to think.

“Uhm, who is this?” You asked, Bucky stepping away to get himself some coffee and breakfast.

“This is Bucky’s girlfriend, who are you?” She spoke a little too harshly, taking you aback. Shock filled your being, and you hung up, setting the phone down a lot harder than you meant too. Bucky jumped, turning back to you quickly, “what was that?”

“What the fuck?” You let slip out of your mouth, anger filling your being as what she said registered. His face screamed confusion before what might’ve, probably, happened changed his expression to worried. His eyes had widened slightly, and he came to your side of the island.

“(Y/N), I can explain.” He hurriedly said, about to put his hands on top of yours. You quickly stood, planting yourself on the ground, before using your powers to push him back a few steps.

“No. No, you can’t.” You pushed past him, walking quickly to your shared bedroom, walking right past Steve and Sam. They both shared worried looks as the saw Bucky rushing after you. You pulled a suitcase out of your closet and started putting everything you’d need into it. Your clothes, chargers, medicine, anything and everything you could fit in it. Bucky tried to stop you, begging you to slow down and let him explain. Telling you he loved you so much.

“Please, (Y/N), I love you so much. Please let me explain.” Once you finished packing, you turned to him. Anger powering your every move. You could feel electricity fill your being, screaming to be let out. You felt it crackle at your fingertips and closed your fights. You didn’t want to hurt him, not physically.

“You listen to me, James.” His name felt wrong on your tongue, but you ignored it. “I’m done. With you, with this, with everything. I’m leaving. No matter how much you beg and ask me not to. I’m out. I can’t fucking take this anymore. All you ever do is break my heart and I’m done with it. I’m done with you. Goodbye.”

You grabbed your suitcase, pulled it up and found your way out of the room. You took one of Starks cars and found a motel room to stay in for the night. Bucky messages you and called, but instead of answering you blocked his number. Breaking your own heart as you clicked the block button. You only answered to Stark for the next few days, only going back to the compound to get the rest of your stuff and finalize your leave. You moved into a small apartment in Queens, found a small job working at a nearby high school, and lived your life the best you could.

#tori2k #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Steve Rogers #sam wilson #the winter soldier #im sorry this is so angsty #and hes a lil (lot) out of character #yikes #tony stark #Avengers

[trenchcoatdevilsworld]

Peculiar || Asylum AU | Bucky x Reader {1/?}

Titel: Peculiar 

Summary: You’ve been best Friends with Loki since you were around 9. So it’s no bigdeal to share an Apartment with him once you’ re old enough to move out. The only thing that kinda bothers you? Your neighbour. Every Encounter with “James” happens to have very odd effects.

Warnings: This story might very well be hella confusing at the start… okay  probably the whole time... , but I’ll do my very best to write this as good as I possibly can! 

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

A/N: this is my literally last-Minute entry for @writingcroissant ‘s #tori2k Writing challenge. I’m so sorry I didn’t got the Chance to upload it earlier!!!!! 

“So same time tomorrow?” Loki, your best friend, asked when the two of you arrived at your door. “Yes!” you cheered, stepping into your house while waving and smiling at the raven haired boy. And he smiled back, waiting for you to close the door before he turned around and left, excited for tomorrow. 

“Honey,” your mom called from the kitchen, “Did you Play with Loki again?” 

“Yes! It was so funny, we played tag! … No wait, we played hide and seek... And he won! Again! He’s so good at this…,” you pouted, but grinned soon anyway. 

“Did you ever find him?” Your mom kept the conversation going. 

“No, never! But he Always finds me! He must be a god. The God of Hide and Seek.” 

Your mom chuckled. “You sure? He sounds more like the God of Mischief to me!” 

“Hmmmmm…,” you hummed. “You’re Right!” You smiled and your mom laughed softly.

“(Y/N),” your Father then called for you, “Where are you?!” 

“I-I’m here dad, I’m with mom-” “Come here immediately!” “Y-Yes!” 

You’ve been around 11 at this time. Your childhood was a hella blurry Memory of yours. Now that you are an adult you moved out of your parents home. It hurt you a lot to leave your mom behind, but you visited your parents, your mom, quite a lot. Also you lived with your best friend, Loki. Both of you went to the same college and both of you worked at the same little restaurant together. So you see? Your life was completely normal.

And then a man, called Steve Rogers, bumped into you. He carried a red, white and blue Shield and wore a quite funny uniform with a star attached to his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized, “I didn’t see you” “Hey that’s totally okay, I didn’t see you either,” admitted. “Cap! You coming?” Another man called for the blonde. “Yes, Clint, I’m coming!  Sorry, (Y/N), I gotta go, I hope to meet you again to apologize correctly” 

And off he went. Slightly confused about the fact, that this man knew your Name you continued your way home. 

Sprinting up the stairs to your apartment you collided with your neighbour James Barnes. “ I’m terribly sorry... Again…” You already bumped into him twice before, but he always just nods but never speaks. 

“Loki!” You cheered when you opened your Apartment door. But not just Loki but Loki and his big brother Thor greeted you. “Lady (Y/N)!” The big blonde giant exclaimed and hugged you tightly. Thor Always speaked a little like he was an old, norse god. If you had to choose? You’d say he’s the god of thunder. And still he was a big teddy bear to you. “Hello Thor! It’ so great to see you again! It’ s been so long!” 

The last time you saw Thor was when Loki and you started college. “ That’s true, I just had to come over! I’m back from my trip to Australia so I decided to visit the two of you.” He grinned wide. “Ya, it’s great to have you back brother.” Loki admitted. The black haired man always told you how much he missed his brother and you wanted him to have his brother back soon. 

“So, how long do you plan on staying?” You asked. “Oh I don’t know, I planned to meet up with Steve and the other guys.” 

“Wait, does one of them happen to be Clint?” You blinked. “Actually yes, how do you know that?” “I think I bumped into him earlier” “How funny!” 

After Thor went to meet his Friends, you and Loki cuddled on the Couch watching The Ward. 

“By the way, Thor wants us to meet him and his friends at the Stark Tower tomorrow…” Loki mumbled. “Whoa, the stark Tower? Really? Awesome!” 

Visiting the Stark Tower the next day was amazing for you. Tony showed you around his lab himself. Though every now and then a black shadow seemed to stand behind you. And whenever you looked, it was gone. 

 You heard about Iron Man before, but never imagined to stand next to him. He also officially introduced you to Bruce Banner, Clint Barton and Steve Rogers.  

“My my, what do we have here?” A familiar voice appeared in the room. You turned around to see your other best friend: Natasha Romanoff. 

“are you kidding? Since when are you an Avenger?” You smiled surprised. 

“Uuuhhh, quite a while now,” she grinned and hugged you. “I have to tellmy neighbour About this! I mean James will probably not answer, ‘cause he never does… but I’ll tell him anyway!” You said, proudly grinning. Loki just chuckled. 

“Hey (Y/N)”, Steve began, “Is his last name ‘Barnes’?” 

“Yes it is, why?” 

_____________________

Peculiar - Tag List: 

Status: Open 

Permanent Tags: @loki7ms  @talinalani  @parisss-lilli @amarokofficial @supermarvelbrivalentine5sos 

Status: Open

#tori2k #bucky barnes #marvel cinematic universe #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #x reader #avengers #black widow #bruce banner #captain america #clint barton #hawkeye #iron man #marvel #natasha romanoff #reader input #steve rogers #thor odinson #thor #tony stark #marvel mcu #marvel movies #reader #mcu #ironman #loki #loki laufeyson #series #hulk

[ao3feed-buckybarnes]

Take A Picture

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2Edri2w

by AveryRogers83

Steve Rogers is busy with trying to keep the world safe; while everyone else on the team spends their free time away from the compound Steve is always found in his office working, till one day he decides he needs a break.

Warning: A curse word or two. Is it a problem that this is just fluff?

Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @writingcroissant #tori2K writing challenge. Please be kind. I’m just getting back into writing and doing Marvel related fics. Thanks to my awesome hubby for being my editor. Hope you like it

Words: 1369, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Steve Rogers, Reader, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2Edri2w

#bucky #IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #bucky barnes #james barnes #the winter soldier #james barnes

[broadwayandnetflix]

Accidents Happen - Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Language, Violence

Theme: Angst with some Fluff

Word Count: 1.7k+

Summary: After a fight with Steve you go on a mission without his permission. Only to get hurt on that said mission, not telling him what happened.

A/N: For @writingcroissant ‘s writing challenge! I hope you enjoy it! I chose prompt #13 in the Angst and Dramatic category. Thanks for allowing me to be in your contest!

You let your eyes wander around the room, intentionally blocking him out as you tried to ponder what this fight really was about.

Oh, that’s right! Steve was too stubborn and overprotective to let you go on a simple mission.

“Are you even listening to me? God, you are just, you are just a” Steve huffed loudly catching your attention, you could practically see the words threatening to spill out of him.

“I am just what Steve?” you spat angrily getting up in his face, searching his eyes for any sign of surrender.

Except all you were met with was a stone cold glare, his tall figure looming over you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You are such a bitch.”

His words hung in the air, heated tension laying heavily between you two. Your gaze dropping to the ground, while he continued to bore into you.

You swallowed processing his words carefully, your heart practically bouncing against your chest. Steve had never called you that before, in fact, you didn’t even know he had it in him, Mr. Righteousness and all.

Hurt slowly but surely began to etch across your face, anger rising in your throat, you gulped down his words bitterly before lashing out.

Within seconds a thudding smack resounded off his chest, his eyes widening in surprise before stepping backward.

Panting heavily you halted there and then, lowering your fist, you took one long glance towards him. Memorizing his rather alarmed expression that painted his face, praying that after this, and what you had planned to do that thing could get better between you two.

——————

The quinjet landed with a heavy thud signaling that the selected group had returned, along with a rather unexpected visitor.

It wasn’t long before Steve had gathered that you went along with the group. He knew full well how stubborn you could get but you had never completely disobeyed him like this. As your boyfriend and captain, surely you knew that he only did what he thought was best for you. Right?

Steve sighed disappointedly, more so in himself then towards you. It was his fault that he had let himself go flying off the handle, even hours later he still couldn’t replaying the scene over and over again.

Guilt pooled over him as possible apologies fluttered about in his mind, yet none of them seemed good enough for you. Of course, you two were both at fault, as you two had both said some rather awful things.

Except, none of it really seemed to matter anymore. If anything Steve just wanted things to go back to being resolved, no more fighting just moving on from the situation.

The panel doors slid open breaking his train of thought, he scanned the doors eagerly awaiting your entrance.

Wanda walked in first, followed closely by Clint, then came Natasha and finally Tony. Steve’s expression dropped slightly, taking in Tony’s rather complicated expression. Not noticing you slip in unannounced.

“Where, where is-?” Steve began, only to be interrupted by a small voice.

“She’s right here,” you answered meekly, not daring to meet his eyes in fear of another argument.

A wave of relief shook through him, spinning around he took you all in. He began to open his mouth but stopped himself, shaking his head he gestured out his hand for you to take.

When you hesitantly accepted, he gave a tight-lipped smile before leading you away from the team. Before reaching the stairs you gave one last glance to the others, noticing how Tony wouldn’t look away from you, he knew exactly what happened on the mission and it wouldn’t be long before Steve did too.

You looked down thinking of ways to protest, but when you looked up to comment you were already at the door of your shared bedroom. Steve’s hand already pushing the door open and leading you two in.

Once his hand fell from your grasp you took a seat on the edge of your bed. Steve cleared his throat as he stood in front of you, the man you saw earlier was no longer present, now it was like his insecurities and regret were screaming at you.

“Y/N, I need to apologize for the way I acted earlier,” he said calmly. “I went way too out of line and said some things that I really regret. I know we are both at fault here, but I would really love to just makeup and let this go. I love you so much, I can’t bear fighting with you. Will you please forgive me?” he pleaded, his hands twisting together nervously.

You nodded as you walked up to him grabbing his hands and smiled at him apologetically.

“I’m sorry to Steve, I really am. I should’ve listened to you and have not gone behind your back,” you said while you gently rubbed your fingers over his rhythmically.

A grin met his features before pulling you into a bone-crushing hug, wincing in pain you let out a little yelp. Startled Steve pulled back quickly, looking you up and down.

“What? What’s wrong, what happened? Are you okay?” he exclaimed.

“Nothing! It’s nothing Steve, I’m fine just a little sore from the mission.” you lied while you began to walk to your side of the bed.

He followed you spinning you around to face him. “Are you sure? Do we need to take you to the infirmary?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, no like I said it’s nothing Steve.” turning around you tried to hide the redness of your cheeks.

Sliding into bed, not even bothering to change out of your suit, you closed our eyes heaving out a big sigh.

“Goodnight Steve.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

While you laid there all you could think about was the mission and how Steve would react when he found out what happened.

-

Tony at your side, Wanda on your other the three of you held as many enemies as you could. You twirled your knife almost playfully before leaning in to swipe one defender, only to have it snapped out of your grasp.

Eyeing Tony and Wanda you realized that help wasn’t very accessible currently.

“Okay, you wanna play catch now, huh?” You smirked before going to flip the guy on his back. Except what you didn’t notice was the guy behind you, knife raised and ready to strike.

Stepping backward you let out a sharp hiss as he swiped at your right side. A soft cry escaped your lips as you frustratedly turned to face your attacker.

“Y/L/N, are you okay?” Tony asked through his speaker, still trained on his current issue at hand.

You bit your lip to hold the scream that was begging to break loose. “Mmph, peachy,” you replied as you took out the guy from behind you.

“Good luck telling Steve that.” he trailed off making way over to another defender.

Eyes widening, embarrassment flooded your features. What were you going to tell Steve?

-

In all seriousness, you knew that you should have gotten it checked out. Except all you could think about was the stern talking you’d soon get from Steve.

All the ‘I told you so’s’ to more overprotective bullshit from him of why you can’t go on missions without him.

So maybe you weren’t the strongest Avenger, so what if you couldn’t stand to sit through another argument and suffer the consequences. All that matters is that you’ll get it checked out in the morning.

You closed your eyes and let yourself drift off into sleep.

-

It wasn’t until the wee hours of the morning that you were awoken to a painful commotion in your side. You gasped and shot up from your position waking Steve up in the process.

“What’s wrong Y/N?” he mumbled groggily rubbing his eyes turning on the nearby lamp.

When you didn’t respond he sat up straighter, his expression more serious than before. “Y/N, tell me the truth, what’s going on?” he demanded.

You let your eyes trail down to your side which was stained from your wound. An action that was soon followed by him accompanied with a slur of curse words.

“Is that … blood? Are you bleeding?”

You nodded once more.

“What the hell, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you get it checked out? Jesus Y/N, I can't with you sometimes.” he murmured before getting up, scooping you in his arms and headed out the door.

“That hurts Steve,” you whined feeling the pain in your side grow more and more.

“It wouldn’t if you hadn’t got this checked out sooner, what were you thinking? Did you think you could just pass this off as a simple scratch? What even happened out there?” he exclaimed hastily picking up the pace.

“Some guy got me in the side,” you muttered shamefully.

“Does anyone else know?” Steve asked.

“Tony has some idea,” you admitted.

Once reaching the infirmary door Steve shoved it open and ran you inside. You listened as he quickly explained the situation to a few startled nurses and allowed them to take charge.

While the nurses worked on you Steve never really did leave your side. Always keeping a steady grip on your hand talking to you calmly. In a way, it made things better for him to be there even if he wasn’t happy with you.

About twenty minutes later, a visit from a groggy worrisome Tony, and a fresh bandage wrapped around your side. Steve scooped you up once more and carried you to your room.

“Don’t go to sleep yet,” he ordered when you when had begun laying down.

Nodding you watched as he ran about the room grabbing you a pair of pajamas, a glass of water, and himself.

“I’m really sorry Steve, I really should have-“ Steve held up a hand to stop you, smiling gently at you.

“Haven’t we apologized enough for one day? I just want you to always know that you can tell me stuff. Even if I’m being a mean old overprotective asshole,” you giggled softly earning a playful smirk from him. “You can tell me anything and I’ll always be here for you.” He said sympathetically kissing your cheek.

“Thank you, Steve,” you whispered before pressing your lips up against him.

“Anytime,” he said breathlessly between kisses.

#tori2k #@broadwayandnetflix #steve rogers x reader #marvel x reader #marvel #2018

[minuialeth75]

Coffee Break

Written for @writingcroissant 2k Marvel Writing Challenge! 

Prompt: I need you to be my girlfriend/boyfriend for about five minutes!

Pairing: Steve x Female!Reader

Summary : In which Steve comes to the rescue, is a bad liar, and also a thief.

Set between Avengers Assemble and Captain America : The Winter Soldier.

Warnings : Situation of work harassment. No inappropriate touching but words. I’ve been there and I didn’t trigger myself writing it but everyone’s different.

You were in deep trouble. You should have known this would eventually happen, but you had hoped it wouldn't be that fast. Brian, from accounts department, was hot on your heels, calling your name. You were pretending not to hear him, trying to walk as fast as possible but without looking like you were running away. Why was it always the creepy ones who seemed to be interested in you?!

You had started working at the Stark Tower two months ago. Nothing prestigious, you were just a secretary there, as you kept reminding friends and family. But still, it was a bit thrilling to work here, and you were finally getting to use the several languages you spoke.

You had met Brian on your first day, when you had been introduced to the various departments you were going to work with. He had immediately made your skin crawl. It was probably his way of giving you a once-over as he shook your hand for a bit too long. You always trusted your sixth sense when meeting new people and sadly, your gut-feeling hadn't failed you where Brian was concerned.

He went out of his way to spend his breaks with you. Literally. His department’s breakroom wasn’t the same as yours, yet he came to have his coffee at yours as often as possible, talking to you only. But it wasn’t a conversation. It was only Brian talking. Talking about himself. Worse still, you realized quickly that some of the women working in your department seemed jealous of the attention he bestowed on you. They seemed to only be aware of the fact that Brian was very good looking. You only saw his creepiness and his douchebaggery.

Apparently, Brian had mistaken your tolerance of him for genuine interest – because of course, just your luck – and had started to hint that you should spend more time together. You could have frankly expressed what you thought of his attentions, but you knew he most probably wasn’t the kind of man to take any sort of rejection well. Brian had a high position in his department and you were just beginning here. You had no doubt that he could make your life at work difficult, and that wasn’t something you wished to experience – ever again. Damn men and their egos.

Since there hadn’t been any proper invitation to a date yet, you still pretended not to have understood his allusions to spending time together outside of work.

 The coffee breaks quickly became a chore. You first tried to take your breaks at your desk but as you continued working like crazy, that kind of defeated their purpose. Brian had quickly discovered your new routine anyway, and started to talk your ear off at your own desk. This pushed you to devise a new plan: your searches had led you to find a breakroom a little ways away that no one seemed to use. At least not during the usual break hours. It was well appointed, with everything to make coffee or tea, a sink, tables and chairs. Most importantly, it was Brian Free.

You couldn’t take all your breaks there, of course, otherwise Brian would have noticed something. You just pretended you hadn’t had the time for a break when he remarked he hadn’t seen you the day before.

It worked quite well for two weeks. Then Brian announced that he was going on a holiday. You had tried to keep a neutral face while you were doing a happy dance in your mind. That is, until Brian said that it would be “great if I could tell you all about my holiday around a good dinner” while getting well into your personal space. “When Hell freezes over” had been on the tip of your tongue, but you had kept silent and shrugged non-commitally, hoping Brian would forget all about this idea during his holiday in Hawaï.

He hadn’t said how long his holiday was going to last and frankly, you hadn’t wanted to ask, because he’d have taken your question for real interest in his life. Well, it’d have been. You really had wanted to know how long your peace would last.

Not long enough, that was how long it lasted.

 You had barely set foot in your department's breakroom that you immediately spotted Brian’s profile. And you just couldn’t do it. You couldn’t enter that room and pretend. Not this morning. Not ever again. It was like being free of Brian’s attentions for a week had made you allergic to him. So you turned on your heels. But either Brian had glimpsed you or someone had told him you were here because next thing you knew, he was calling your name.

You thought you were hurrying aimlessly but you realized that your feet were directing you to your secret breakroom. Maybe because you considered the place like a safe zone. But it was a very bad idea because Brian was closing in on you if the sound of his footsteps was any indication. If you hadn’t been panicking you’d have thought about hiding in any of the empty conference rooms on your way, but you ended up in the breakroom instead, almost out of breath from anxiety. How could you have fucked up that much?

Two things struck you as you entered: there was someone in the breakroom. That someone was male, built, with blond hair and striking blue eyes. You immediately identified that someone as Captain America, in spite of having never met him in person. He was on the news often enough.

In the split second that followed, you noted that Captain America held a brand new coffee bag in his hands and looked guilty as hell.

You heard the sound of Brian arriving just behind you and… well, your brain had never been good in panic mode, so next thing you knew, you were urgently whispering “I need you to be my boyfriend for about five minutes!” to Captain Fucking America, pouring all the despair you felt in your eyes, which was a lot.

You immediately regretted that idea because, WHAT?! But it was too late. The Captain’s eyebrows shot up so high they almost disappeared into his hair.

“Y/n,” Brian began, and you wondered how you could have endured his one-sided conversations in the past, because right now just the sound of his voice made your skin crawl. “What are you doing here?” His tone was somewhat accusatory, like he had a right to your whereabouts. You threw a last look at the Captain before turning to Brian.

“I was about to take a coffee break.”

You felt a little calmer now and you were trying to give a chance to Steve Rogers to escape from the very awkward situation you had put him in, even if it meant finding yourself alone with Brian.

“In here? But why? Why not in our breakroom?”

“I…” You couldn’t find anything to answer that wouldn’t betray the fact that you’d been avoiding him for weeks.

“Is this where you come when you’re not taking your breaks with me?” Brian’s tone had turned offended, as if your break time didn’t belong to you. And he had gotten into your personal space again.

“Y/n’s been spending most of her breaks with me,” Steve Rogers said. His voice sounded close to you so you guessed he had come nearer. You were briefly torn between relief at his intervention, and feeling sorry for having dragged him into this. He probably had better things to do with his time.

Brian froze, seemingly noticing the other occupant of the room for the first time. If Brian weren’t such a creep, you’d feel flattered that he was so into you he somehow hadn’t seen the wall of a man standing in the room until he spoke. But you knew it was more likely Brian was so self-absorbed that nothing else but what interested him mattered.

“Captain Rogers?” Brian looked from you to the man in question.

“Look, Y/n and I would appreciate if you kept this to yourself for the time being,” Steve Rogers said. You were stunned as you immediately saw the genius move for what it was. You bit the inside of your cheek really hard not to smile. You had to look worried for Steve’s idea to work.

Brian was a lot of things but not stupid, so what Steve was implying clicked for him. He threw you a harsh look.

“Why did you keep leading me on?” You felt your mouth dropping open. Was he even real? “You flirted back, you accepted my invitation to a date!” Brian’s face was growing red. So you hadn’t imagined things. Brian was interested in you, and he hadn’t taken the thousands of hints you had dropped that you weren’t interested. At all.

You suddenly felt warmth at your back and you realized who it was. Steve was standing as close to you as possible to keep up the pretense while still being a gentleman about it. The contrast with Brian couldn’t have been starker.

“I suggest you moderate your tone,” Steve said, his voice cold.

You had only ever seen him giving interviews for charities or such things on TV so you had no idea he could get like this. Then you remembered that he worked for Shield and was a WWII veteran, not just the poster boy for health campaigns. Yet you didn’t feel threatened at all. On the other hand, you saw Brian gulping. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, well. It’s just that she should have told me…”

“She’s also in the room,” you cut, emboldened by Steve’s support, both emotional and physical. “I never encouraged you in any way. I kept trying to make you understand I wasn’t interested.”

“Why didn’t you tell me frankly you weren’t?”

You took a deep breath. “Brian, I’m not interested in dating you and I’d like to take my coffee breaks in peace.”

Brian looked insulted. “But I’ve always been nice to you!”

“I just spoke to you plainly, and that’s how you react. Do you understand why I didn’t say anything?”

You were on a roll, you no longer cared about the consequences. You had accumulated a lot of feelings during the last weeks and now it seemed like the dam had broken.

“I think you were leading me on. You know the position I have at Accounts, you probably thought you’d climb the ladder faster if I was sweet on you.”

You heard a sharp intake of breath behind you so you were quick to speak up. You didn’t want Steve to dirty his hands with this. “How could I not know your position indeed, as you’ve been keen to remind me at each break I’m forced to take with you.” You knew you were going down, you might as well do it guns blazing. You heard a discreet noise behind you that might have been a muffled snort.

“How can you talk to me like this? I’ll have you know I could have my pick among the female employees here.”

“Then why don’t you pick someone who’ll be interested?”

Brian gaped. “I’m going to send an email to HR about your conduct. As you’ve been working here for only two months, you know the consequences.”

You felt Steve shift and soon enough he was standing on the side, his hands on his hips. You noted that the air of cold anger around him suited him well.

“I think you are forgetting yourself, Mr… ?”

“Floyd.”

“Mr Floyd. I kind of know the big boss personally, and once I tell him about your despicable conduct with the personnel here, I’m sure your complaint to HR will be treated accordingly: forgotten.”

You could see that Brian wanted to answer, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew when to retreat. And retreating he did, walking backwards to the door, as if doing that would make it look less like he was fleeing the stage of his humiliation. Because that was what it was for him. You dreaded the moment you’d find yourself alone with him again. Because you had no doubt it would happen. He’d make sure of it.

“You’ll hear from me again,” he said, pointing to you, just before turning his back and exiting the breakroom.

You felt your whole body immediately relaxing, as if he had taken all the negative energy with him.

“I’m sorry.”

Disbelief flooded you. Did Captain America just apologize to you? “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m sorry you had to endure this man’s advances.”

Steve’s eyes were soft and he looked so genuinely sorry that the tight control you had kept on how you felt about this threatened to break. Such genuine kindness was rare.

“I… It’s me who should apologize. I’m so sorry I put you in a tight spot. I didn’t know what to do.”

Steve shook his head. “I was glad to help.” He smiled. He smiled and his eyes twinkled. That was something to behold. “You’re lucky I didn’t have to speak a lot because I’ve been told I’m a really bad liar.”

You found yourself smiling back. It was impossible not to. “Seriously, I don’t know how to thank you for what you’ve done. You could have walked away.”

Steve looked scandalized at the idea. “Why would I?!”

“Maybe because you were stealing coffee?”

You were treated with the pleasant sight of Steve Rogers turning pink.

“Er… Someone drank all our coffee so I thought that if I nipped by the closest breakroom, I’d find some.”

You knew that the Avengers had living quarters in the Tower. It was a well known fact, but something you hadn’t really dwelled on since starting to work here. This was an unexpected reminder.

“I should have gone out to buy some, but…” Steve looked down at himself, clad in a plain – too tight, way too tight – tee-shirt, sweatpants and… socks. He wasn’t even wearing shoes and you hadn’t noticed.

“Oh. Well, you’re welcome to borrow all the coffee you might need next time.” Wait… were you… were you flirting?! With Steve Rogers?!

The man in question cleared his throat. You didn’t know if he had become pink again or if it was a remainder of his coffee-stealing shame.

“About this man, Floyd…” The reminder that Brian existed was like being doused with cold water “He’s not going to leave you alone, and I’ve made it worse. I’m sorry.”

“Look, I… I’ll deal with it, okay? Please, don’t apologize about making this asshole feel bad. It was beautiful to watch.” You meant every word. It was going to suck, but it had been magnificent to see Brian leaving the room with his tail between his legs.

Steve’s mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile but didn’t know you well enough to be sure you’d found that acceptable.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with him. You won’t have to deal with him, in fact. If you go to HR and tell them of his attitude, I’m sure they’ll part with him.”

Well, Steve Rogers was more naive than you thought. But you couldn’t hold it against him. His heart was in the right place.

“They’ll part with me, more like. That’s not how things work, Steve.”

He threw you a look you couldn’t decipher and you realized that, even if you had recognized him, introductions hadn’t been officially made. And here you were calling him by his first name.

“I’m sorry, Captain.”

“Steve is fine. I’m aware that sadly that’s how things work elsewhere, but not here. Pepper and Tony won’t stand for that behavior. I can personally guaranty you that Floyd will be fired and that he’ll have a hard time finding a respectable job elsewhere.”

Oh. You felt a bit silly, and also a bit mortified because the office work you were doing here was so mundane you had kinda forgotten that Stark Industries was Tony Stark’s, and that the CEO was Pepper Potts. While you had been impressed by the many advantages here, you hadn’t quite grasped that things could be that different from the other places where you had worked.

“I… I hadn’t realized, otherwise I’d have gone to HR much sooner.”

“I’m going to see Tony and Pepper tonight. If you want to avoid a difficult report to HR, I could give your name and phone line to Pepper and explain that a friend is in trouble?”

You were very well aware of the fact that you were gaping like a fish. Was this man for real? Why weren’t other men like this?

“Or if you don’t want to, that’s okay.”

“No! I just… I don’t even know what to say, you’re being so nice.”

Here it came again, the endearing flush spreading from Steve’s cheeks to his ears. With the addition of his hand rubbing his nape. Steve Rogers was Trouble.

“Let me…” You searched your jacket pockets for the pen and post-it notes you knew you always had with you. Once you had found them, you went to a table and carefully wrote your full name and your phone line on it. Coming from any other man, you might have suspected it was just a ploy to get your coordinates, but it only crossed your mind as you handed the post-it note to Steve, and you immediately dismissed the notion as ludicrous.

Steve stuck the post-it on the coffee bag he had retrieved from the counter. You realized he must have disposed of it when Brian entered. He followed your gaze.

“There’s probably a riot up there right now,” he said. “This – he pointed to your post-it note – is going to be taken care of.”

“Brian’s not going to be found at the bottom of the Hudson with his feet in concrete, right? Cause I don’t like him, but not to that point.”

Steve made a soft breathy sound as he grinned. “The Avengers aren’t that kind of organization.”

“Glad we cleared that up,” was the only witty thing you found to say. Your flirting was really rusty. Who were you trying to fool, your flirting had always been abysmal at best.

“Well, I got to go,” Steve said as he went to the door, carrying the coffee like a precious relic. Yeah, your flirting was bad.

Steve turned at the last moment. “Are you going to keep having your breaks here in the future?”

You probably looked like a deer in the headlights. “I… think… maybe, yes.” What the hell did he… OH. OH MY GOD. “YES. I mean, I will. It’s pleasantly quiet.”

The good thing in that debacle was that Steve looked as flustered as you felt.

“Er, around the same time?” he asked.

“Yes, most probably.”

“Okay.”

Steve threw you a blinding grin just before leaving, the rascal.

You guessed you were never going to see your department’s breakroom again.

#tori2k #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers/Reader

[the-canary]

Irreplaceable - B.B. (2/2)

Summary:  It’s not even about not noticing what’s in front of you. At this point, it was plain idiocy on both your parts. (Modern/Childhood AU!Reader/Bucky Barnes).

Prompt: “You know that feeling when you’re not your favourite person’s favourite person, and it kind of feels like you’re constantly swallowing sand?”  

A/N: This is for @writingcroissant 2k writing challenge. welcome to the mess part. 2 (at 7K), adding more cliches and a wedding + mutual pinning. i know how i feel about the ending and if ya’ll wanna see it -- let me know what you think. If ya don’t like angst, don’t read. 

Part 1 | Masterlist

Feedback is always welcomed.

Chapter Text

The years since leaving Shelbyville treated you as kindly as they can. You grow up a wallflower during the last year of high school -- there isn’t any smiling Sharon, quirky classmates, or the Barnes sisters to hang out with. There isn’t any James Barnes, but you’re too stubborn to let it go and as you start university it fades into the background. The new setting allows for a new you to bloom and as you made new friends while preparing yourself to take over the family business -- Shelbyville became a distant dream with the closest you got to being in Indianapolis whenever you went to meetings.

Sharon, happily married with kids, had caught you up on things wherever you meet in the city and you kept with the Barnes sisters in a sort of social media friends way. Rebecca was happily engaged to a man she had meet in university and was a successful teacher, Lizzie was doing her graduate program, and Millie was driving cross-country for her photography work. The only things you had heard of James were that he had joined the Army straight out of high school and worked based out of New York.

In making your peace with everything, you had forgiven and moved on a long time ago. You went on dates and had meaningful relationships, though that wasn’t happening recently due to the work that came with expanding the company into other countries -- the work was hard and it caused you long hours of travel. You sure you were fine with it--

“Oh, is this from the one that got away~?” Sam questions looking at the small beige envelope with your name written on it. You groan at the use of said song whenever it came to you and him talking about your past, particularly James. It was wasn’t often, but the man that dared called himself your best friend knew when to use it in exactly the right moment.

“No, it’s for his younger sister’s wedding,” you remark while looking at the beautifully written Rebecca and William at the center of the invitation. You had only met the man once or twice, but you could tell how deeply in love they were, it was almost a little envious. You take a drink of your beer, the rom-com in front of you long forgotten as you note that sparkle in Sam’s brown eyes.

“And are you going? She was a pretty good friend, no?” you glare at Sam as he takes seat next to you, playing that psychologist card he knew too well. You frown before throwing the couch pillow at him, after so many years as friends -- he knew you too well. Sam knew you weren’t planning on going.

“I don’t think I could handle seeing him again,” you admit, as Sam gets bit closer and throws his arm over your shoulder. That familiar sweet grin on his face telling you he had a devious plan in mind.

“And if you took someone with you?”

Indianapolis, Indiana.

The years for James Buchanan Barnes are a mixed bag with its highs and lows. He joins the military and serves for as long as he can, until his arm and half his hearing are gone. He takes twice as long trying to put himself back together, but he tries his hardest with the help of his friends and family. He figures out in the long run that it is probably better for him to stay in Shelbyville than go back to New York like his long term plan was. He goes to university through different methods until finally getting his degree in architecture and design, opening up a 2nd branch to his firm in Indianapolis, while Steve Rogers runs it in their old running ground. Hell, Bucky watches his best friend get married to the love of his life, though he struggles with the last part himself.

He just never thought that his younger sister would be getting married before him. However, aside from that problem, the wedding brought another issues at hand.

“The wedding invitations have been sent out, Jamie,” Rebecca explains one bright summer morning. Rebecca had enough time to meet with James now that school was out and before all the wedding stuff went into full gear. James didn’t know about what, but she seemed a bit apprehensive.

“That’s great, kid,” Bucky smiles at the glow Becca seems to have and he can’t help but feel proud of his little sister and how far she has come, though that thought quickly changes when he sees her frown.

“Here’s the thing though...I sent an invitation to her as well,” Becca explains, knowing all too well the story between them, “I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

That had been at the start of the summer and now only so close to the wedding was James finally starting to freak out. Yes, he had tried to go on dates and had some relationships peppered throughout the years he had last seen her, but somethings just never worked out. There were expectations and fears he now held that didn’t allow the old Bucky Barnes to shine through, James had gained and lost of a lot but he had come out a more matured man overall -- he understood a bit more of himself and what he wanted from the people around him. It led to a smaller group of friends, but those he knew had his back. Like the one sitting across from him right now.

“So, you want me to be your date?” Nat goes over his plan once again -- a habit from their Army days together, “So you won’t look like an lonely idiot in front of the love of your life?”

“Yeah,” is all he can manage to say before running a hand through his long hair in frustration. Nat being one of his old Army buddies knew the story too well, especially when he went and spilled the whole thing one drunk evening between their whole regiment. Later on (after they had finished their time serving their country), he had tried asking her on a date only for Nat to throw the forgotten tirade back in his face with a sharply pointed smile.

“And what if she’s just as lonely as you are, lover boy?” she grins, as Bucky just shakes his head. He had thought about it a million of times before: if she was still single, if he could just gain the courage and reach out to her. However, after everything had gone down and how he didn’t even take the time to explain everything to her, like he had done with his sisters and parents -- he deserved everything she had deprived him of.

“I doubt it,” James says with a hint of despair in his voice before chugging his beer. Natasha giving him a sardonic smile before agreeing, though she is sure this is a disaster in the making.

The home staring back at you hasn’t changed much, except for your mother switching the tulips in front for camellias, which makes you smile just a bit. Your mother screams from the front porch, as she sees you and Sam come out of the taxi, as she pulls the man into a big hug. You swore that your mother loved him more than you sometimes. Your father walks a bit slower, his age and health problems causing him to spend more time at home than at the company like he did when you were younger. Nevertheless, they are happy to see you.

“Sam, how have you been?” your mother smothers him like the son she never had, as he chuckles before declaring he has been doing well in his professional life, his romantic -- well that was another story. Your father pats you on the shoulder before asking what was always on his mind when he was saw or called you.

“How’s the expansion going?” he questions with bright eyes, proud but still forever worried about the company he built up and his only child leading it.

“I have a meeting in Mexico City in two weeks. You already know that, Pa!” you chuckle, as you grab both of your bags and begin to head inside. You look out of the corner of your eye and look at the old green Barnes’ house. For a brief moment, you wonder who would be in there besides George and Winnie Barnes before Sam pulls you by your waist into the home with a sympathetic smile.

The return to your childhood home had caused your parents to bring out the big guns when it comes to dinner -- BBQ on the grill in the shared backyard. They’ve added fairy lights to the back porch, as things from your childhood --like the swing on the tree-- look like they haven’t been used in a very long time. Sam, in curiosity and teasing, asks all the regular questions of an old house like yours, though mainly is it haunted, as you share a good laugh.

“This reminds me of,” Sam starts motions with his hand at the whole backyard, “Of that song those sorority girls would sing at karaoke nights.”

“Oh geez, you mean: Kiss me ~” you start off laughing and out of tune, as Sam soon joins in, “M e beneath the milky twilight. Lead me out on the moonlit floor.”

Your mother and father shake their heads, as they had seen your antics before with Sam whenever they meet-up with you, but they let this slip for now since they hadn’t seen you enjoy yourself in their home in a very long time. The impromptu singing turns into a dance with you laughing on Sam’s shoulder, neither of you aware of a certain light being lit up in the next house or the group of people coming over.

“Well, if it isn’t the whole family!” an older George Barnes yells, as you turn to see him and a couple of other people come out with him. It wasn’t a surprised that any party -no matter how small-- attracted the jovial man -- you just didn’t expect to being seeing the whole Barnes family on your first night back.

You father gets up and greets him with a giant hug, like they didn’t see each other everyday. Your mother looks at you hesitantly before going to talk to Winnie (as food starts to be handed out amongst everyone), as you notice two other people with the older Barnes children -- a redhead and a tall blond. Sam grabs you around the waist with a huge smile.

“Time to show you off, sweetheart,” San declares loudly only to have everyone look at him, as you groan in embarrassment before shoving him just a little.  

Once the two of you join the larger group, the younger Barnes sisters come up and welcome you, clearly missing you as they catch you up with everything you had missed from them, while also asking how you and Sam meet, and like a practiced tale --that isn’t really a complete lie-- you tell them in college through a very bad P.E class. You congratulate Rebecca and William on their upcoming nuptials, though you can’t help but think that she’s frowning just a bit at this turn of events. James and the mysterious redhead are a little bit harder to talk to since they seem to take to themselves only, though the two of you seem to orbit and avoid each other for the most of the night.

It isn’t until you start cleaning up the impromptu family event (thank god your mother always took out more than necessary) that you notice James standing a bit closer than you for a moment, as you see that Natasha, Sam, and William seem to be talking amongst themselves. You can’t help but shake your head at how Sam can just manage to make himself at home everywhere he went.    

“Hey,” you hear a voice as you look up from the table to see blue eyes and an awkward smile. Your heart isn’t doing the same crazy flips it did once, but there still stutters for a moment, “Been awhile.”

“It has been, James. But, I’ve heard you’ve been doing well,” you smile and try your hardest to stay professional, but you can’t help but notice that  the years have done him well what with that long hair and slight stubble. Blue eyes crinkle with silent laughter at the next part of your sentence, “Natasha and you sound happy together.

“Yeah, yeah. You and Sand--” he starts off.

“Sam,” you correct him.

“Yeah, he sounds like a great guy,” James says as you smile brighter than before because any compliment towards your best friend just makes you as happy as a clam, though you don’t take notice of the dimming blue eyes nor to the fact that his voice goes out towards the end of his sentence. But, of course you wouldn’t -- you didn’t know this version of James Barnes -- this echo of the summertimes you used to hold so dear.

“For all it’s worth,” you say picking up the stack of dishes on the table. You nod, trying to accept defeat and give him the forgiveness that said you did in the years apart, “It’s good seeing you again, James.”

“It’s good to see you too, doll,” he manages to say, though you can’t help but quirk an eyebrow at the odd nickname he has given you, but shrug it off as nothing more before heading inside. Sam stays a while longer talking to Nat and the others, but you just need to get out of there, and maybe Sam was right in asking if ghosts haunted your childhood home.

Not old ones, but yours and what never got to be.

You spend the next two days before the rehearsal dinner showing Sam around the Shelbyville and all the things you used to love about your hometown, which connected a lot with a younger James Barnes and at this point it lead to you and him (along with Natasha) crossing paths a lot, which was a little odd since you would think he would’ve had time to show her everything by now. You didn’t hate the woman, in fact you liked her from the small talks you had, though she was a bit on the quiet side, but she did seem to fit well to James’ natural charisma.

This had lead to you sitting rather close to each other in your favorite diner for milkshakes on a rather slow afternoon. The owner -Stan- watches the two “couples” for a good while before before shaking his head.

“These old eyes still don’t lie,” he can’t help but laugh to himself as he whips down the countertop, as he can’t help but notice a certain pair of blue eyes caught up in the way a certain face shines when a good joke is told, just like when they were kids.  

Rehearsal Dinner.

You can’t help but smile at the large room where Rebecca is having this dinner, remembering how she talked about this place when you were younger. You are happy for here for two seconds until you notice who you and Sam have to sit next to -- Natasha, though there is no James in sight for now. The woman reminds you of an old Hollywood beauty with her pinned back red hair, matching red lips, and long black skirt with white blouse ensemble. Sam sensing your distress pulls out the furthest seat from her for you, as you give him a shaky smile.

“So, how are you tonight?” Sam questions in a teasing tones as green eyes light up, as you sweep over all the tables in the room, certainly not searching, “Lonely? Abandoned?”  

“A little bit of both,” Nat states while taking a sip of her drink, “James got called by some old friends.”

You don’t say anything, but you can’t help but wonder who these old friends could be since James changed friends every semester in-between summer -- they weren’t lasting relationships, just momentary things that seemed glued together for the school year and it wasn’t on people’s fault for trying -- James just had a tendency of pushing people of away for a reason that you didn’t understand even now, though you experienced it every summer as well. There was only one person that you are aware of that had stayed longer in his life, besides his family, was someone you had never meet before.

Dinner moves forward with no sign of James anywhere, as Sam tries his best to play the awkward mediator without bringing up the common thing between the two woman in front of him. However, once the drinks start following a bit more, both you and Natasha seem to open up and laugh at old memories that Sam can’t help but laugh at too. You feel the need to go the bathroom and excuse yourself -- smiling and just a little bit happier than you had been since coming back home, but also calmly at ease over Natasha.

Everything was okay, you could live with this. Yet, your happy thoughts are dashed away as you bump into someone. A hand on your waist stops anything further from happening, as you get out of your hazy happiness to see bright blue eyes looking at you. There’s a timid smile on his face, though you can’t help but notice that blue eyes are glancing at your figure -- mostly because you are too as you appreciate the man in button-up white shirt with his sleeves rolled up and black slacks -- a perfect match to Natasha’s outfit.

“You okay, doll?” James smiles, partially due to how gorgeous you look in the flower print summer dress you are wearing, but mostly due to having you in his arms. You nod to his question before backing way and apologizing, however before he can say anything -- a blond man is coming up to him and yelling out his familiar nickname.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were with someone,” the blond states and the statement confuses for just a moment. Didn’t people know about Natasha?

“No, no,” James explains awkwardly, as the blonde keeps looking between the two of you because while he had removed his arm -- the two of you were still pretty close together. It’s a little awkward until finally James decides to introduce the two of you, and that’s when you meet the infamous Steve Rogers from Brooklyn.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” he returns the sentiment and you find yourself talking to Steve about everything and anything, he just seems to have that aura around him. Hell, you even find out you have meet his wife at least twice due to the work that she does. You laugh completely caught up in his airport story to notice James looking at you mesmerized about something that should have happened years ago. However, as the stories comes to a close, you quickly realize why you got up, so you begin to excuse yourself.  

“I should let you guys catch up,” you smile and start to walk away, ignoring the fact that James looks like he is trying to say something, “It was good to finally meet you, Steve.”

Steve returns the sentiment as you excuse yourself and finally head to the bathroom. A million questions are running through your head, though you can’t help but feel a little good about finally putting a face to the legendary “Steve Rogers”. You remember fighting with James all the time over him leaving you for New York for a kid that you never meet. What did Steve Rogers have that you didn’t? What did he know about Bucky?

You understood it a bit more now, but that didn’t stop the jealousy from burning just a little in the pit of your stomach, as you walked back to your table. James still isn’t there, but you can’t help but notice that Sam is alone and for once completely still.

“Sam, you okay?” you asks a bit worried at your friend’s lovestruck face. You push his shoulder lightly for a moment, unaware of a certain redhead walking away. Sam shakes out of his stupor and gives you a wide smile.

“Yeah, let’s go get some dessert. I’m starving,” he grins, as he gets up and pushes you towards the buffet table. You shrug and follow on his instance, unaware of two pairs of blue eyes watching you as Steve can’t help but reprimand his best friend once everything is said and done.

Bachelorette Party.

As a sort of close friend of Rebecca’s, you end up going to her bachelorette party though not knowing the rest of her bridesmaids outside of her sisters, you end up at the edge of the fancy bar -- though you aren’t the only one. Natasha is your companion. She feels you looking at her and she turns, small smile and bright green eyes as she simply raises her drink before drinking it in one go. You wonder if James had a thing for redheads: the girl from that one Halloween party, Dot, and now Natasha -- he did seem to have a certain type, but it could be said simply being a “woman” meant you were made for the Bucky Barnes.

Hell, everyone except you, and it that poisoning thought that leads you to drinking a bit more and faster than before. Thank god, Nat is there watching over you and finally took the 6th shot from your hand. You stare at the countertop as she hands the drink to the bartender, most of the other woman ignoring you, as she tells you to stop.

“Hey, you okay?” she asks awkwardly and you can’t help but let out a laugh. You can tell she isn’t used to doing stuff like this, but it’s a nice thought that she is trying.

“I can see why he likes you,” you say, more somber and sober than she thought you would be, though she is quick to pick up on who you are talking about, “What do you do exactly, Natasha?”

“Private contractor,” is all she says and you can’t help but wonder if she had known James from his time in the Army -- she knew sides of him that you had only dreamt of. You wonder if the alcohol is finally starting to get to her when you ask her, unfiltered, how they met and just about anything else that comes to mind. There are tears in your eyes over all the stories she tells you right then and there, though you aren’t sure if it’s because they are so hilarious or because of what is all means.

Natasha ends up asking you about Sam and there’s where your filter goes flying. You laugh and tell her of all the crazy and sweet things that you have lived through with the man since meeting him in that one disastrous frat requirement party. For a moment, you wonder how enthralled she is by these old stories, but before you can get inside her shell -- she decides to crawl like a little black spider into yours.  

“So, how long have you been in love with James?” she asks, you’re too drunk  and filled of nostalgia to remember that it’s Natasha asking, the one person that you shouldn’t been telling all this to. However, you had always been a tell-all sort of drunk -- one of the things that Sam enjoyed the most out of your friendship-- and maybe through all your discussions of the night, Nat had figured that out.

“Since I was 14,” you manage to say as you play with the bottom of your ear shell. Green eyes watching your every move, “He was going to go to some Halloween party dressed up as Raggedy Andy with some girl he had started seeing. But, me -- I was sick as hell and didn’t go. In and out of sleep, I thought I was dreaming seeing him the entire time, my mom told he had been there keeping watch since my parents had left. I don’t know if he knows…”       

You’re looking at your hands, unaware of Nat’s softening look: “I thought, what if he liked me just like this everyday? Not just in the summer, it took me some more time but I was surely in love by then.”

“I feel like there’s a but,” Natasha can’t help but frown, thinking about how much of a playboy the old Bucky used to be, so much different from the one she had worked with. She wondered if the both of you knew how exactly you had ruined each other for anyone else.

“He was with that girl the next day,” you explain, slightly bitter towards the end, “Then, I realized that he would never look at me that way. But, I’m happy he’s with you.”

Nat mirrors your smile for a moment before she orders herself another drink. She wonders for the rest of the night, after carrying your sleeping self back to your home, how she got stuck with such fools.

Bachelor Party.

It’s a whole different game for Sam, who as a stranger in this whole affair doesn’t think he will get invited to anything besides when you take him somewhere, thus he simply gets ready for bed in one of your family’s guest bedrooms (he’ll never tell you he got lost for a good 20 minutes) until there is knock at the door. Your mother answers, only for a gruff but excited voice to call out his name and at that moment he’s knows he is being called out. He can’t help but shake his head in laughter,  you told him that “Bucky” used to do this all the time with other boys over a girl he liked. However, he can’t help but wonder if this was about what exactly James Barnes felt for you, since he had been picking up on things here and there since coming into Indiana.

It surely wouldn’t be the first time you failed to notice someone’s affections towards you.

Steve, poor sweet Steve, ended up in the middle of a silently seething Bucky and humoring Sam as the 3 them ended up in a local bar, far from the bachelor party that was happening a few doors down. James said nothing for the most part, as Steve found himself connecting with Sam over their love for Marvin Gaye and the Temptations, as well as the old Rocky movies. Sam was a good man, from what Steve could tell as he worked in the VA centers back in Los Angeles as a counselor after his own time in the Air Force. Steve could tell that eventually they could all get along, if there weren’t the childish attitude Bucky was acting on right now. Steve could only shake his head at all this, a little worried about leaving these twoo alone when he had to leave to go to the bathroom.    

"Ah, she said you would do this," Sam remarks offhandedly, not to be completely mean but to see what he could get out of James Barnes -- what emotions did he have towards his dear friend after so many years.

"What exactly?" Bucky answers back, taking another sip of his drink. The more he drinks, the more somber and reflective he seems to get, always had.

"Try to be the ' big dog '. Acting like you’re 15 years old,” Sam laughs a little, remembering all the stories you told him of the infamous James Barnes, his need for attention, and his ever-changing imagery. Bucky Barnes could have been an actor with all his charm and acting ability, was something you had told him once. However, all Sam saw and understood from what he had pieced together was that James Buchanan Barnes was a successful man, but he was still haunted --more than most-- by mistakes that Sam would probably never understand -- you being just the tip of the iceberg.

“I didn’t think she knew about that,” Bucky remarks with a surprise in his tone of voice, as he wonders for a brief moment what else you had seen from your place in the background -- all the regrets and mistakes that he had made in his youth had been laid out in front of you and he probably didn’t even know. And even then, you still allowed him to come back -- to give him a sunny reprieve to all he wanted to hide away from the world.

It wasn’t until it was too late that he figured out how he had taken it all for granted.  

“You obviously didn’t know she’s hella observant,” Sam answers before adding an afterthought, “Guess that was something you never noticed.”

“Yeah,” Bucky finally gives in to all of Sam’s push back, as brown eyes watch him like a hawk, “She’s always been too good for me, ya know? I did stupid shit and hung out with the wrong crowds, but she was always there waiting for me.”

Sam pauses taking sip of his beer, as James puts his own up: “But, I am glad she has someone to call her own and protect her.”

Sam pulls his own drink up, as Steve comes back glad that they didn’t kill each other, with a clear assessment of what is going on and what he is going to have to do next -- for both your happiness.

Wedding.

You always got a certain way during weddings. You knew this, Sam knew this.

The declaration of love in front of you with a smiling bride and handsome groom seem to give you hives. Your nose got itchy and there were goosebumps all over your body. The short sleeves and lace of your dress hung to you like a second skin, as your eyes just got a little red and puffy.

You didn’t know why this happen, but it always did -- in Sharon’s wedding and every other employee wedding that you had gone to since. You had always dealt with it alone, sitting near the back and trying to stay as quiet as you could -- a fever or cold following the wedding so afterwards with Sam sometimes dealing with the aftermath or hearing stories about it.

Right now, he is dealing with it with your forehead on his shoulder as a cold sweat makes it way through your body, as you move the napkin to wipe away the tears forming in the corners of your eyes. To anyone else, it just looks like you were crying over a beautiful wedding, and it does look like that to James and Natasha -- as blue eyes turn to look a few rows back.

“You should calm down ,” Nat repeats and pats his right hand, while his left hand has completely crushed the pamphlet that was passed out in the beginning. James takes a steady breathe to calm himself down as Nat shakes her head.

She glances back for a moment, green meeting with warm brown -- if only the other knew, like their best friend did.

Reception.

You’re feeling a bit better, but not enough to be dancing around over and over again. So, you listen to the music and watch as the couples take to center stage. It wasn’t their first dance together that was saved for the song that played on their first date, but something felt more magical about this song . The voice reminded you of lost summers and promises you had made to yourself as a child, of who you wanted by your side for the rest of this long adventure, but somehow it hadn’t happened. You glance to the side and see Sam dancing with Natasha and while you can’t help but think it’s a little strange how close they are, the way the lights gleamed on them made your heart stutter.

All this love and emotion on display starts to get your stomach acting up once more and you need to get out, but as the song keeps on playing the only person you had wanted to dance this type of waltz with suddenly appears in front of you. Blue eyes shining with worry as you lean on to the hallway wall.

“Doll, are you alright?” he questions softly, but it echoes to you as your head starts pounding. Your skin burns where his hand touches you and you want him to stop, to get as far away as you can from him -- for him to stop treating with this temporary kindness he’s only ever shown you, but your throat dries up when he leans your body into his.

“Let’s get you some water,” is all he can say, taking on full mother hen mode than you had only seen a few times here and there during the summer and when he worried about his sisters.  

You two walk a bit more, but your mind is too hazy to see immediately what it in front of you. Sam and Nat coming out of some room -- kissed out and all the signs of a classic makeout session on display. James seethes as he catches Sam’s surprised look before going straight to the man and trying to punch the daylights out of him. However, Nat had always been the quicker one of the two when it came to combat training and she knew what Bucky was going for, as he stops him midway, as you with a slightly clearer head try to stop him by grabbing his right hand.   

“James, stop, ” you plea softly, as you move the two of you from where Natasha and Sam are standing. You meets Sam’s eye, shaking your head, as Nat drags him to the opposite side of the hallways. Bucky is still fuming and expecting you to be crying or experiencing something emotional, but you just take a breathe and laugh a little. It breaks him how poorly you’re treating yourself over this guy. (And Nat, he’ll a word for her later).    

“Are you just gonna let your boyfriend pull that?” Bucky yells, as you watch him, “He’s still there with Nat. Don’t you deserve better?”

“Don’t you pull that shit on me, James,” sickness clearly forgotten, as you try to defend yourself and by extension Sam because Bucky Barnes has no right in talking to you about how to treat people after everything he had done. The scene with Nat and Sam is slowly forgotten, as something else --years in the making-- finally makes it way to the surface.

“No! You don’t know that feeling when you’re not your favorite person’s favourite person, and it kind of feels like you’re constantly swallowing sand? Seeing you laughing and dancing with that guy? It kills me and to have him doing this,” James fights back, though unsure against what at this point, as he wants to yell, support, and kiss you all at the same time. The fire in your eyes shining so brightly isn’t helping the situation much either.    

“I get it completely,” you answer back, tone dark and even, as you let go of your feeling -- not overthinking the consequences for once, “I’ve gotten it for years, every summer watching my favorite person leave me and turn into a different person for the attention, for the girls that flirted and he dated--”

“Doll--”

He’s stunned and you’re pure anger.

“Fucking call me that again and you’ll lose your other arm,” you let out in once breathe as he watches you tirade in silence, “I’ve seen my favorite person , the one I loved since I was 14, walk away every damn time without a hint of remorse. So don’t spew me your bullshit, James Buchanan Barnes. I don’t regret walking then and not now.”

You walk away, leaving a stunned Bucky for, a second time as you head back to your parents’ home.

You don’t remember much after your parents picked you up from the event and you collapsed in your room soon afterwards. You hadn’t seen Sam for the rest of the evening and don’t even hear from him the next day. You wonder what he’s up to, but are happy that he found someone he’s so infatuated it with and from what you had seen Natasha was a good person, even though she was a little closed off. You thought that matched your good friend perfectly. You heave out a sigh and dig yourself into your bed a bit more until you hear it, that noise that still haunts you -- clink clink. You groan but don’t move at all, you close your eyes and try to sleep once more. You aren’t playing this game again, especially after confessing last night.

“Come on, sleepy head,” a warm voice and shaking welcomes you back to the land of the living, as you look up and Sam smiles, “Someone is waiting for you outside.”

“No,” you groan out, as Sam shakes his head only to pick you out of your bed bridal style. You yelp as he laughs, you come out of your blanket as he starts moving down the stairs. You huff before you start coughing again once more.

“Nat and I realized that you guys need to talk,” Sam explains as you give him a smile.

“It’ s you and Nat , now?” you tease, as he shakes his head. You’re going to have get the the story out of him at a later time, right now he seemed distracted with something else, as you reached the bottom of the stairs.

He places you softly close to the front door, as you can tell your parents are sneaking glances here and there from the living room. It wasn’t like your parents didn’t know what was going on, but they trusted you enough from a very young to be logical and straightforward with your feelings -- it was just never like that when it came to James Barnes, and maybe they knew that and had let you leave their home earlier than usual because of that but now as a grown woman, there wasn’t much they could tell you.

“Just please listen to him,” Sam tries to cheer you up as he places his hands on your shoulders, “There’s a lot both of you seem to misunderstand about the other.”

“I’ll try,” you admit defeat at that bright smile Sam always get when he is right about something, and maybe like always he has a point and thus for him and for the much needed closure you need to have -- you let Sam push you out the front door to the front porch. And, that’s when your heart stops once more.

James is walking back and forth on the grassy part. Brown hair disheveled in appearance as he keeps running a hand through it in frustration every so often. He’s wearing a white top covered with red and blue flannel and a pair of sweats, you have to wonder how he isn’t hot with such humidity. But, it’s in this moment that you notice the bags under his eyes and the pale complexion he seems to have -- James looks as bad as you feel, and you can’t help but wonder if he has always looked like that or if it was just since last night.

You take what little courage you have and call out to him. He stops in his tracks and blue eyes turn to look at you, really look at you before an crooked smile blooms onto his face. He comes up to you, ready to reach out but you take a step back and you swear that you see the light die out in his eyes for a moment. James let out a sigh before shaking his head. You take an uneasy step to sit down on the stairs before patting the space to you.

“I’m here to listen to whatever you gotta say,” you say in an even tone, handing out a peace branch as he sits down, “I’ll listen, but that’s it for now.”

James is quick to understand that this is the only chance you are giving him to mend what was broken years ago, to make you understand everything from his point-of-view -- and how he tries. He goes from middle school to the wedding, how he never felt he was good enough and needed to present himself as something for people to like him. However, the summers were unconditional for him -- it was only the two of you and he didn’t have to pretend, though the fear was always there in the back of his mind -- that complex he would never be good for someone like you -- he just didn’t know it was love until you were gone. He lost himself for a good while too: joining the Army, losing his arm, coming back and getting his degree, then opening his own branch in Indianapolis, but something was always missing.

“And Natasha?” you question, as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Nat is just a friend from my Army days,” he explains looking up at the sky, “I just brought her as a pretense, just like Sam.”

He gives you a sad smile, but there is still something else that you want to know about -- that thing, that past that drove you from your home in the first place. You have listened to everything that James has said, but there is one crucial piece of information missing and you know he knows it too.

“And Dot?” you ask, pulling your blanket a bit closer to yourself as he lets out a bitter laugh. Blue eyes look at you, something dark and haunting about them scare you for just a moment -- you wonder briefly if you should have asked. He places his right hand in front of the two of you and flips it over to the inside of his wrist to show you a large surgical scar that moves from the right to left of his wrist in a slanted angle -- as if someone had been trying to cut his hand.

“I don’t think I can ever tell you, or anyone, about what happened between me, Dot, and Rumlow,” he explains and though he tries to be steady, you can hear the he is struggling with the last part, “But, I can tell you that you were right that night in the bathroom.”

“Okay,” you nod, as he gives you a watery smile before going on once more, knowing that this could be the last thing he would ever telling you.

“Even if you don’t anymore, I still love you,” he smiles with red eyes as you stare at him like a deer caught in the headlights, “I was just such a fool who didn’t realize what I had until it was gone, and I’ve regretted it everyday since. I just want you to know that, doll.”

You stay silent for a long time and after admitting defeat to himself, Bucky starts to get up from the steps. It’s then you can finally find your voice, finally do what you should had done years ago.

“I love you too, James. I don’t think that’s ever changed,” you admit helplessly as James turns to look at you, hope and fear mixed together in those blue eyes of his, “But, I’m not the doormat I was as a child. So, if you want, I am willing to take this slow and be friends again.”

Friends. Friends.

It’s not what he had wanted, but it was more than what he thought he was going to get as he leans down on your step, as little different from all those years ago but familiar with all the anxiety and fear you knew so well. He pulls out his hand and grins.

“I’ll take that for now,” James admits before introducing himself once more, James Barnes - architect.

You laugh and start shaking his hand while stating your name and current job title in front of those old houses where this had started  years ago.

And maybe one day (with communication  and understanding), your favorite person could love you every day of every year and not just in the summertime.

Epilogue 

#tori2k #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes modern au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfic #series: short stories #fabiola trying to write #series: irreplaceable

[tasharii]

Your Colors: Ch.1.

A/N: I was hoping for this to be a oneshot, but it got out of hand very quickly, and became a full, multi-chapter fic. This is for @writingcroissant ‘s 2k challenge. I picked the Artist AU, and ran with it. 

I also couldn’t help but create the mood board that you see. Gotta love visual inspiration! I might make one themed for every chapter, not sure yet. This is my first fanfiction ever, so please let me know what you think. I’ll update the warnings with every chapter if something changes.

Summary:  Art was the one good thing between college, work, and the grey minutes in-between. Sometimes, it felt like she wasn’t alive at all. Just drifting. When she joined her new art class, she never expected to start experiencing everything in an entirely new light. All thanks to him. Or: Where Bucky Barnes gets more than he bargained from his new drawing partner.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 11.5K

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, violence, attempted assault

Masterlist

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10   Chapter 11  Chapter 12  Chapter 13

****

A cool draft of air pricked goosebumps up across her skin, and she suppressed the urge to shiver. One wrong movement would break her pose. The floral duvet under her was soft, but her knees were starting to ache from holding the position for so long. Her hands were curled against the tops of her thighs, as if she just rose up to kneel on her bed. Y/N’s head was tilted just a little, her hair pulled over one shoulder, facial expression calm. It was hard to stay that way, though. She could feel his eyes on her like blinding sunshine.

The lighting was controlled by mismatched lamps, keeping it consistent and gentle, almost intimate. Three lights were situated around her bed. One by the headboard behind her, another standalone closer, above her head to the left, and the last was further away on a chair in front of her. All the ceiling lights were switched off, and the windows were covered. It was just enough light to keep her bedroom area illuminated, but the rest of the apartment was coated in inky shadows.

Even with the heat on high, the loose, sheer long sleeve blouse she wore wasn’t quite warm enough. Goosebumps crawled up her bare thighs, disappearing underneath her jean shorts. Y/N’s studio apartment always ran on the edge of nippy. The stained tan carpet couldn’t block out the chill. The mass of tall windows on her back wall, across from the door, loved to let the fall air creep in. At least the windows gave a beautiful view of New York’s sparkling skyline. Being on the 14th floor did have some perks.

“You’re frowning again.” His voice broke through her train of thought. It made her shoulders tense up to her ears before she forced them back down. Subtly she flexed her fingers in and out of fists, trying to shake the anxiety. “Do you need a break?”

Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding “No, I’m alright.” She peaked at him from just within her peripheral vision. He was drawing her from a 3-quarter view, a little lower rather than straight on. A chair had been pulled over from her living-room area, and he lounged back in it. One foot propped up on a stool; other on his knee. His large sketchpad rested on his lap, and tucked up close to his face. Pale blue eyes focused on her with such intensity she felt another flush crawl from her chest down to her toes and up to her ears. This was one part of life drawing that she could never quite get used to.

His eyes drifted over her body, taking in every single detail. First trailing across the waves in her hair, then he paused on her lips, passed down to her torso, arms, legs, and lastly he focused on the paper. Bottom lip tucked underneath his teeth, he scraped against the page in small fluid strokes. The rasping of charcoal eased some of the heat that sparked across her skin. Then he looked up again, loose strands of hair falling across his forehead.

Bucky met her eyes for a couple seconds. Her heartbeat picked up again at being caught staring. Then he dropped his charcoal back down into its open case on the end table beside his chair. He let his socked feet down. Placed his sketchpad on the stool and rubbed at the black smudges on his fingers “I think I’m done anyway. I wanna get a drink real quick, then I’ll pose for you.” He wiped the smudges on his jeans as he stood up.

‘Oh thank god’  Y/N thought, then fell back onto her butt, rolling into a sitting position. Stretching her arms above her head, she cracked her back. As she rolled her stiff joints, she listened for Bucky’s footsteps. The light flicked on for her corned off kitchen area. It was all the way on the other side of the apartment, but she heard the fridge door open without one single footstep. He was so damn quiet. Like a ghost. Maybe it was just because of the carpet.

“Can you get me a coke?” She called, scooting to sit on the edge of the bed and then standing. Tingles trailed down her legs, feet asleep, and she awkwardly shook them off. With a couple bouncing steps she went over to the stool. Y/N didn’t dare touch it, didn’t want to smear any of his strokes. Instead, she just moved over so she could peer down at his latest masterpiece.

It had taken him a little over 30 minutes to draw her. Bucky always, somehow, made her look far more beautiful than any mirror had ever done for her. Her hair looked wavy and graceful as it framed her face, and she appeared to be deep in thought. As if she was captured in the moment between deciding to do something and moving into action. Y/N wished she could say that he drew her wrong, made her look like someone else. A girl far more elegant and pretty than her, but it would be an insult to his skill. Bucky captured her truer to herself than anyone else in the world. It was like he saw inside of her. Saw what she was made of and brought it to the surface.

Somehow, he did it every single time.

This was the fourth time he had been over for an art homework session. Probably drawn her upwards of thirty times now between all the impression sketches, and various timed drawings. Always in charcoal. Always with beautiful accuracy.

“What do you think?” Y/N felt something cold and damp brush her arm. She jumped a little bit and whipped around to glare at Bucky for spooking her. He was standing a good foot away, but his arm had stretched out to offer her the canned soda.

Snatching the drink from him, she took a couple calming breaths, and ignored his small smirk “I think this one’s your best so far. You’re getting better with the lighting.”

Now that she was aware of him, he took another step closer. Unconsciously, his right arm brushed hers as he tilted his head, eyeing the drawing critically “Still can’t get your damn nose right.”

“Got a problem with it?” She teased, sipping on her drink and studying the illustration. Honestly, she didn’t notice anything wrong with it. Her 2D nose looked about as accurate as the rest of her. Curling her bare toes into the carpet, she noticed the feeling had finally come back to them.

Bucky glanced up at her and scowled accusingly “Ya, it’s disproportionate to your face.” The light from the lamp on the chair accented his pout, deepening the dimple under his lip.

Y/N couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that came out of her. It was such an absurd, random comment. Still, she pressed her lips and eyebrows down. Tried to be offended. After all, he was insulting her “Excuse me. I think my nose is the best part of my face! You’re the one with a butt chin!” Her voice trembled over her own words. Then she giggled a little harder as his sulking deepened and he rubbed at his chin, shaking his head.

“Now who’s being rude?” His pout finally lifted to a small smile, and he brought his coke to his mouth, swallowing. “I think next time I want you laying on the bed. Think you can let your head hang upside down for 30 minutes?” He caught her gaze, eyebrows raised. She tried to ignore him saying anything about laying on a bed. There was a mischievous spark in his eye that made her stomach flip.

“If I pass out it’s your fault.” She warned, jabbing a finger at him threateningly. He smiled a smidge more at her before backing up and going to sit his drink down on her desk. Every smile he gave her felt like a surprise, and she couldn’t quite believe how much had changed in such a short period of time.

Things were getting easier with him. It had taken a good two weeks, seeing each other twice a week in their mutual art class, and then twice outside of class to work on the homework. Y/N knew he would be tough. She could tell that from ‘Hello’. Just hadn’t properly estimated how difficult.

 In the beginning, he barely talked beyond adjustments to her pose, and comments on her anatomical errors. Never rudely. Definitely blunt, but his voice was soft, and he helped her after critiquing her. She had thought he was irritated every time he came to her apartment to work. Thought she annoyed him whenever she sat next to him in class. It made her anxiety relentlessly torment her like the devil it was.

Last Friday, though, she finally started to pick up on his dry humor. It was only small comments here and there. Little quips about the poses she made him do, or her obnoxiously loud neighbors. When she fed into it, he made more. Now he was beginning to smile easier. She eventually asked him about his brooding, while sketching him sitting in a chair. Bucky had cracked up. A full body laugh that took up her entire apartment. Between snorts he explained that his friends said he had a ‘killer resting bitch face’. It was one of their inside jokes. He was sorry if he gave her the wrong idea. All his waving hands, gesturing as he spoke, completely ruined her sketch. There was no getting him back into the same position. It was worth it.

These days, she wondered why she ever thought he was scary.

“Got any plans for Halloween?” Y/N asked, turning her drink in her hands. The holiday fell on a Wednesday this year, so most parties were scheduled the Saturday after. That was only a week away.

Bucky smeared the condensation of his can across his right fingers, rubbing at the leftover charcoal dust. The small of his back leaned against her desk as he thought about it. Charcoal had managed to get all the way down to his wrist. His thumb brushed over his fingertips and then he rubbed them again on his jeans. There were smudged stains on the faded blue now, next to his side pocket. He didn’t seem to care.

She tried to stop staring, looking back down at his drawing right as he glanced back up to answer. “Probably gonna go to my friend’s party. Maybe scare the kids that dare ring his doorbell.” He gave a wicked smirk. Then clapped his hands together, rubbing them conspiratorially. The sound was muted by his glove and had a dull ring from the metal underneath.

“Like you need to give more poor people nightmares from your ugly mug.” She teased. Well that answered her question. She thought maybe she could invite him to go with her and her friends to club Hydra. Obviously, he would be spending time with his friends. Friends she didn’t have any idea about.

“Oh ha ha.” Bucky rolled his eyes with exaggerated, sarcastic laughter. “So! Where do you want me and my ugly mug?” He asked, arms spread wide in mock invitation.

“Don’t pout. At least you don’t have to buy a costume.” Y/N continued. He didn’t even bless her with a response. Just pinned his grey eyes at her a bit more.

Slowly, she walked over to sit her own drink down beside his, lips pressed together. Peering around the room, she crossed her arms in thought. Finally, she nodded her chin towards the window sill. It was her middle, largest window. The one that opened to her fire escape. The sill doubled as a seat and had a couple cushions already laid out on it.

“Open the blinds and lean against it.” It was getting to be later afternoon, so the light should be pouring in the window without the blinds blocking it. As he pushed off from the desk, Bucky knocked his shoulder playfully against hers. She hesitated back for just a second, watching him stroll easily across her apartment. Honestly, she hadn’t realized that he never touched her before until he started to. It wasn’t like he touched her all the time now, but something told her it was significant that he did at all.

With a shake of her head, Y/N followed Bucky over to the window and let him push aside the pale blue curtains. Then he tugged the blinds up, turned and rested back against the window, arms crossed. He didn’t completely sit down onto the sill. Instead he sat on the very edge, using his legs to support him. It wasn’t a very comfortable position, but it was visually dynamic.

“This good?” He tilted his head and studied her curiously. He was wearing a black hoodie, left hand covered with a glove. His hair was easily brushed back from his face, shorter on the sides. Stubble covered his cheeks, but he still had a boyish charm to him, even with the small smudges of rings under his stark blue eyes.

She knew what was under his glove. It wasn’t like Bucky insisted on hiding his metal arm, but he did go out of his way to keep it covered as much as possible. Sometimes in class he would shed his jacket, long sleeves underneath it, but then he would roll up the sleeves to wash his right hand. He would remove the glove to keep it from getting wet. Didn’t usually even flinch whenever anyone looked, surprised, but no one asked. Prosthetics were rare, but not unheard of considering the war. Metal prosthetics were rarer, only Stark Industries made them, and they were ungodly expensive.

However, in all the sessions they had drawing each other, she hadn’t drawn him without his arm covered in some way. He had drawn her in various stages of undress: dresses, skirts, shorts, jackets, and even a sports bra once. Y/N had a feeling that this would be what she would use for her final Figure Drawing project. If he just didn’t have his jacket on. Maybe she could finally capture the essence of him that she had missed every time.

“One second.” She stated quickly, stepping back and flitting around her apartment. First, she turned off all the lamps over near her bed. Then she walked around the wide bookshelf that separated her bed from the living-room area and turned off the kitchen light beyond that. There was enough light pouring in from the window for her to draw by. Plus, having only one light source made the shadows he created deeper.

Having all that done, she steeled herself, debating a moment longer. It wouldn’t hurt to ask would it? She picked at the edges of her sheer sleeves, they covered down to her fingers. Bucky tracked the movement with his eyes. He really did have artist habits. Sometimes she wondered if he ever missed anything. Any small detail.

“Do you think you could take off your hoodie?” She quickly asked, a little hesitantly. Just throw it out there. Despite the anxiety, she tried to be as casual about it as she could.

Bucky’s eyes widened just a fraction before he gave a smooth smile and furrowed his eyebrows “You trying to defile my honor?” He chuckled teasingly, giving her an obvious once-over, then tutted with a click of his tongue “I didn’t take you for that kinda girl!” He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and reclined back a bit more. The light made pieces of his hair shine copper.

She scoffed “Oh you wish Barnes.” Then she shook her head, staring up at the high vaulted ceiling. Why did this difficult man had to be her muse?

“I just think the lighting and pose would look better without your dark ass jacket casting one big mass of shadows.” She jabbed a finger at it and stared at him stubbornly. She didn’t mention that his metallic arm would also look beautiful in the golden light of the sunset, but she figured he would come to that conclusion on his own.

“I’m wearing a tank top underneath this.” He stated, joking demeanor becoming subdued with his statement, voice softening. Bucky didn’t turn his gaze away from her. Slouched down like he was, she managed to stand at his height. Her bare toes were nearly touching his. The length of his stretched legs kept her a good arm’s length away. Bucky always seemed to have a bubble that he rarely let anyone in. People walked around him with a wide breadth. Y/N supposed he could be intimidating. Especially in moments like this. Where his eyes unwaveringly bore into hers, and he dropped his charming, dry humor. A joke wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“That’s fine by me.” She finally replied, clearing her throat from where it had become filled with sand. Honestly, she didn’t know Bucky all that well. They spent upwards of 10 hours a week together, working on the same class, bonding over art, but she still didn’t really know him. She knew he was a veteran, he was casually vague about that if the arm didn’t tip anyone off. Their art teacher, Ramsey, was also a veteran, and liked to talk about it with Bucky. Probably a sense of comradery. She knew his favorite medium was acrylic, and he worked at The Rosalie Bakery. That was about it, though, and all that stuff was pretty damn superficial.

As he kept his stare locked with hers for a few heartbeats longer than comfortable, she began to wonder if maybe she pushed too far. It was obvious he was a private guy. Maybe he was embarrassed about it. Maybe he didn’t want it captured forever down on paper. She was just about to back off when his right hand moved up to the zipper of his hoodie. Her eyes immediately tracked the movement. It rested below his chest, already partially down. The sound of the zipper broke the silence, louder than the clunking of her apartments central air.

“Alright, but good fucking luck drawing this hunk of metal. I swear shading it is gonna be a bitch for you.” Bucky groused, and she took a soft breath before smiling encouragingly with a flash of teeth.

“I think I can handle it.”

He tossed the jacket to the floor, and then rolled his shoulder a little. The wife beater didn’t hide much of anything. Y/N could see the thick jagged scars from where the metal ended, and his skin began. There was intricate paneling and the plates hissed a little as they shifted in response to him moving. His flesh fingers plucked the ends of the glove off, and then dropped it down on top of his jacket.

It only took two seconds for her trained eyes to devour every detail before she hurried to grab her sketchpad and standing easel. She wanted to draw him at eye level, just from the side closer to his metal arm. The light refracted, multicolored, across the silver. It was just as stunning as she thought it would be. “Can you just prop your left elbow up above your head? Ya like that. Now tilt your head towards me. Good. And relax.” She spoke quickly, already starting to block in shapes.

“Whatever you say Picasso.” Bucky rolled his eyes before relaxing his face, and he watched her draw.

Normally, she would tell him to look somewhere else. Maybe down, or up above her, but not this time. This time it was perfect that he was challenging her. Challenging the viewer. Daring them to look at him. Daring them to stare.

Y/N felt her heartbeat pick up, and she brushed the charcoal across her page, suddenly caught in a drawing fever. She could feel excitement sparking her fingers as she drew him. This was why she wanted him to be her partner.

When Ramsey told them that they would have a partner for the length of their class, she had panicked at first. Their partner was supposed to critic them, help them, and work their projects together. It was a lot to ask from someone, especially when most people in the class didn’t have a degree hanging on their performance. This was an extracurricular class for her, outside of her college, hosted by the Brooklyn Museum. It was meant for wanna-be-artists, but most of them weren’t being graded like her. At the end of the class their work would be hosted in an exhibit at the museum.

All her teachers would be coming to that show, and Ramsey was supposed to write weekly updates about her. Y/N didn’t like group projects to begin with. Most people just didn’t work well together, and she had high standards for herself. Besides, she only recognized a couple other people in the class from her college, but she didn’t truly know anyone.

As everyone started to pair off, being smart and probably taking the class with a friend, she glanced around the room. Twisted in her chair, observing as people laughed and started mulling over the syllabus together. She finally spotted him. He hadn’t moved from his drafting desk, hadn’t even looked up from his worn sketchbook. She noticed how people glanced at him, but then kept moving, looking for other options. He was beautiful. Intimidating. She wanted to draw him right then and there. It wasn’t anything new. Sometimes people just inspired her. Something about them made her itch to draw them. To capture their being onto a page.

So, she approached him. He slowly glanced up at her. Took in her position beside his desk with nothing else than a glare. Stubbornly not letting that deter her, she gave a small wave and the best smile she could muster under such uncomfortable circumstances “Hey I’m Y/N.”

“James.”

“You still have 20 minutes left. You can take your time.” Bucky chuckled, watching as her hand slowed for the first time since she started “I’m not going anywhere Y/N.”

It had taken the entire first week for her to make him laugh. Another week after that before the smiles came easier. The sad part was she had actively been trying. Of course, when he did laugh, she hadn’t tried. In the middle of rearranging the still life they were working with, she fumbled. She accidentally knocked her hip into the edge of her cheap end table when turning away. Managed to catch the flower vase, but at the cost of it spilling down the front of her shirt. At least it was on her, and not her camera. That same day, he had told her to call him Bucky instead of James.

He laughed a lot more since then.

Hearing her name made her fully give him her attention. Cars honked from far down below, and the shuffle of New York played like subdued background music. “You’ve got charcoal on your face.” He informed her. A smirk curled up one side of his lips, and his eyes danced in the fading auburn light behind him.

She wiped at her forehead, brushing back her hair. From the grin on his face, she probably only made it worse. She sent eye daggers at him “Shut up and get back to brooding.”

He pressed his lips together, trying to contain his smile. “Yes ma’am.” After that, she noticed that his shoulders were a little more relaxed. His breathing was deeper, and his gaze had softened. However, his eyes never stopped daring her to look.

**** 

Halloween was one of her favorite holidays. It was thrilling to get to pretend to be someone else. To have the opportunity to dress in whatever made her feel good without getting slut shamed for it. She had very few chances to act like a kid anymore, being in college, and having the adult responsibilities of a young woman living on her own. So, when her friends invited her to a Halloween party at the club Hydra she didn’t hesitate to agree. It wasn’t often that she drank, even less often that she partied.

The press of bodies made it difficult to get off the dance floor. She slowly weaved her way, slipping under arms and sliding through all the usual grinding. Her hair stuck to the nap of her neck, and she felt damp sweat on the small of her back. Leather was not a breathable fabric. It clung like a second jet black skin down her limbs and stretched across her breasts. As she stumbled, at last, out of the crowd, near the bar, she took in a muggy breath. The air tasted like various perfumes, and sweet smoke. Fog machines curled smoke around her feet and made the air hazy. Desperate, she unzipped her clingy jacket down a bit. Now she was showing an indecent amount of cleavage, only a pushup bra under the jacket, but at least it was cooler.

Time was drifting past 1 a.m., and she wanted to try to be home by 3. That way she could still be coherent when Bucky came over to work at 11. Multicolored strobe lights flashed overhead, giving everything a heady, surreal atmosphere. The music was so loud that she could feel it vibrating in her bones, across her heart. It mixed well with the slight buzz of alcohol making her skin tingle, and muscles loose. Her feet hurt from dancing so much, and she still had a throbbing bite mark on her neck. A gift from a guy dressed as a vampire who got a little too in character.

Finally, she made it into the bathroom, there wasn’t a line. The club was huge, and expensive. It managed to surprisingly be equipped with enough bathrooms to serve all its drunk, debauched guests. She leaned heavily against the porcelain sink, splashing some cool water onto the back of her neck. After a couple of calm breaths, she felt the last of the artificial fog leave her lungs. Peering up she stretched her neck to the side, checking to see if the vampire managed to bruise her. Thank god he didn’t.

Y/N’s makeup was smudged, making her sharp Black Widow look a little dirty. Her lipstick smeared around her mouth, and her smoky eyeliner ringed her bright eyes. Somehow, she got glitter across her cheekbones and chest. She hadn’t even worn glitter. Still, it managed to work with the leather, so she didn’t mind too much. Standing up straight, she dampened a paper towel and dabbed it under her eyes. Wanted to clean herself up just a little bit before she faced anyone again. Grabbing her lipstick from one of her many pockets she reapplied the scarlet, and then, satisfied, pulled out her phone.

Back facing the mirror, she leaned against the sink. Focused on her phone, she enjoyed the slight draft of cool air that dried the sweat on her chest. The music still crept in from outside, but it was the first minute in a solid 5 hours that she could hear her own thoughts.

First, she tried to call Gabby, who had drove them there. Gabby was always nailed to her phone and very reliable. It rang a few times, but eventually went to voicemail. Y/N left a quick message. Let her know that she wanted to head out soon, and to get back to her. They had agreed that they would stay no later than 1:30 a.m. at most. It was creeping towards that time.

Then she called Whitney, but the call was instantly rejected. She raised her eyebrows and hung up without leaving a message. Instead she went to text her. The buzzing of the florescent lights was starting to give her a headache. She jumped a little when a group of girls came into the bathroom, talking way too loudly. Probably still deaf from the base. The music followed in after them until the door swung closed again. Some remix of This Is Halloween. They barely glanced at her as they went about doing their business, checking their makeup and going into the stalls.

Y/N stepped back and out of the way of the sinks. She leaned against the other wall beside the trashcan. Her feet were starting to ache in her knee-high boots; so, she shifted her weight from one to the other, easing some of the pressure.

Y/N: Hey! Just wanted to knw if you’ve seen Gabs?

It took Whitney a couple minutes to text back. Minutes that went by gruelingly slow. The girls had all left by the time her phone vibrated in her hands.

Whitney: No idea! Srry about the call. I met a guy!  She followed that up with several winky faces and hearts.

Whitney: Let her know I don’t need a ride tho. Probably won’t make it home. Thnx!

That one was emphasized with some kisses and winky faces.

Y/N could tell when a conversation was over, so she tried to call Gabby again. It ended with the same result. She sent her a couple texts, but to no avail. Just more radio silence.

Buzz sufficiently tampered, she let Gabby know she was getting a cab. She stared up at the glass dome light about her head and groaned loudly in frustration. Then she pocketed her phone back in the pouch attached to her utility belt. She patted at her thigh pocket where she had her wallet, only to come up with nothing. Y/N patted down her hip pockets, and then back pockets. A bubble of panic started to rise from her stomach. She frowned, going for her bra, and then rechecking every single pocket she had.

Twice.

Then a third time.

No wallet. No goddamn wallet. She tried to think of where she could have left it, but it had been an hour since her last drink. There was no way she had left it at the bar.

Then she had gone to dance some more, and finally ended up here in the bathroom.

Somewhere between then and now her wallet had escaped.

Son of a bitch. She raked a rough hand through her hair. It probably looked wild in a crazy witch sort of way now. The mirror across from her confirmed her theory. Wild hair aside; ok, she could handle this. Maybe they had it at the bar. Maybe she dropped it, and someone gave it to the bartender. People were still nice like that.

With a rush of adrenaline fueling her steps, she shoved out of the bathroom and hurried to the bar. This couldn’t be happening.

It wasn’t at the bar.

The bartender helpfully informed her that they had been having a pick-pocket problem. Followed that up with a shrug and infuriating expression of pity.

Gave her a free shot of vodka for her troubles.

Dejected, it took her another 10 minutes to wind her way through the crowd. 10 long minutes to make it out of the maze of the outrageously huge club. She couldn’t help but feel pissed. All around abandoned by her friends. Robbed. She just wanted to do was go home, take a shower, and then collapse into her warm bed.

The frigid November wind only aided in agitating her more. The club was on a corner lot, and she walked a few paces away from the entrance. There were throngs of people still going into the club, and then stumbling masses making their way out of it. She waited on the edge of the sidewalk, watching as the headlights of the cars flashed by in blurs of color. She could see her breath in the wind and cursed her skin-tight leather jacket for not being warmer. The heat from the club abandoned her more every single time a gust of air pushed her to the side.

Luckily, she could feel the vodka coiling in her stomach, spreading numb warmth through her veins. It also managed to calm her down, guiding her from the edge of crying. She bit her lip and slumped against a lamp post.

A taxi started to pull over for her, and she let out a groan of frustration as she waved them on. No point in wasting the poor guy’s time. Renewed tears of frustration pricked her eyes as she tried to figure out who she could call. Her two best friends with cars had already outright deserted her ass. She pulled out her phone and started clicking through all her contacts. Rubbing at her fingers against the phone as she went. The light of her phone made her wince, and the harsh street light reflected white off her leather sleeves. No one else she knew drove.

No one except…

She hovered her thumb over Bucky’s name. He was probably still at his friend’s right now. If not there, likely passed out in some corner. They weren’t that close, and this would seriously be putting him out.

But she was desperate.

Y/N pressed the phone to her ear as it started to ring. Again, and again… and oh god he wouldn’t answer and he was going to wake up to a random call from an indecent hour and no explanation…

“Hello?”

“Bucky!” She uttered his name with an embarrassing amount of relief. Immediately she took a step away from the post, too nervous to stand still.

“Hey uh… are you alright?” He asked slowly, voice deeper over the phone. At least he sounded like he hadn’t been sleeping, or drunk. What if he was actually busy? What if he was _busy _with someone? She could just make out the sound of music over the line, and laughter.

“I’m not interrupting anything am I?” She ignored his question in favor of asking one of her own. What if she just interrupted a hookup? Accidentally cock blocked him? The thought made her a little queasy, and her free arm crossed protectively over herself.

“Oh no, um just at Steve’s party.” She pursed her lips, looking up at the sky.  Couldn’t make out any of the stars thanks to the city that never sleeps. Steve. He had never mentioned Steve before. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. She didn’t even know the names of his real friends.

He seemed hesitant when she didn’t say anything right away. Vodka was making its way through her. Her brain felt a bit slow “Is there anything that I can do for ya? Not that I don’t appreciate random calls or anything, but…” Bucky trailed off, waiting for her to finish the sentence for him.

The question made her straighten back up and scrub a hand over her face, suddenly remembering her awkward situation “I don’t want to put you out but… Well I’m kinda stuck at club Hydra. Without money, or a ride. Do ya think maybe you could give me a lift home? If you can’t it’s ok I can figure something else out. Promise I’ll pay you back though!” Her lipstick had smeared over her palm. She wiped it off on her thigh distractedly.

There were a few long beats of silence. The only way she knew he was still on the line was by the intermittent bursts of background laughter. Finally, she heard Bucky let out a sigh that made the speaker crackle “I’m not even going to ask. I can be there in 10 if you don’t mind riding on my bike.”

“No that’s fine!” No, she didn’t mind the idea of riding on the back of his bike at all. It sounded like the best thing ever. A great way to pick up her shitty night. “Are you sure though? I don’t want to make you leave your party.”

She could hear some shuffling, and it sounded like Bucky was talking to someone, but she couldn’t make out any of his words. When his voice came back he was a bit louder “Nah it’s alright. Starting to die out anyway.”

“You’re not drunk, are you?” Y/N suddenly asked, a bit concerned. Mostly not even for herself.

Bucky snorted a laugh “No I’m not drunk. Would never dream of risking my bike like that.” A screen door slammed over the phone, and he cursed. Something about stupid weather and stupid damsels in distress. She opted to ignore him.

“I was more worried about you than the bike, but I’ll take what I can get.” She paced around her small bit of sidewalk. It felt like there might be snow in the air. Above the buildings she wondered if the clouds were gearing up for it, thick and heavy.

“Shouldn’t worry ‘bout me, but thanks anyway.” There was a jingling of keys, and then a roaring crackle over the speaker that made her jerk the phone away from her ear. He must have started his bike.

To compensate she spoke up a bit louder “Thank you so much. I’m already outside. Can’t miss me. I’m in all leather.”

Bucky laughed a little, but it was distorted from the motorcycle “It’s Halloween weekend. I don’t think you’re the only girl out there sportin’ all leather.” Before she could defend her entirely unique leather get-up, he finished “But I’m sure you’ll stand out anyway. See ya in a bit.” Then he hung up.

The next 5 minutes passed agonizingly slow. She huddled herself up against a rough brick wall, thankful that she was wearing pants. Even if the leather was thin. She didn’t want to go back into the club, and chance missing Bucky. Besides, it was only 10 minutes. She could handle that. Her phone stayed pressed close to her face as she flipped through Tumblr, attempting to keep her mind off the howling wind. It bit at her fingers, and pink nose.

At first, she didn’t notice. There was always a background rush of voices on the streets, along with cars, and horns. City noises. A lot of the louder voices were guys, shouting obscenities at no one in particular. Even when she had been cat called a few times, it never amounted to anything.  Usually she just kept walking or flipped them off, then kept walking.

“Hey sweetheart why you all by yourself?” She glanced up from her phone, wondering what poor girl was getting harassed and if maybe she should do something.

Then she realized that poor girl was her.

Too stunned to say anything, she kept quiet. The guys were leering at her from down the sidewalk. Probably coming from the club. There were five, all in various costumes, and all likely in various states of intoxication. The ringleader stood in the front, backed up by two other big guys, the fatter one was in a basketball jersey, the other a pirate’s hat with a ruby feather. They were all tall, but not quite as tall as Bucky. Not many guys were.

When she didn’t respond, the ringleader stepped closer to her little ball of light. She stood underneath a streetlamp light. The post was positioned on the other side of the sidewalk, next to the street, but its illumination reached her against the wall. It felt like the safest place. Not that Hydra was located on a shady street, but it was late at night, or early in the morning. She was a girl. It was also Halloween. Now she was starting to wonder if the light was more like a beacon for all the goddamn scumbags of the world.

“Wanna keep us company?” He continued, a wide smirk making his teeth flash in the headlights of a car “We can warm you up real nice.”

Discount Jack Sparrow chuckled from beside him “You make one damn hot Black Widow. I’d love to see what’s under your leather.” She felt his eyes on her cleavage even if she couldn’t see him clearly in the shadows. Suddenly she wanted to zip her top back up, but she didn’t dare give him the goddamn satisfaction of appearing embarrassed.

Up to this point she was far too amazed at the blatant sexual harassment heading her way to say anything. That comment jarred her into standing up straighter, trying to appear bigger than she was. Then she glared at them “Fat chance asshole. Leave me alone.” She bristled more when they just laughed at her and felt her stomach drop. This wasn’t good.

If she screamed it wouldn’t do much. It was Halloween. People were screaming everywhere. Plus, in a city, one scream just disappeared like smoke among all the other noises. There wasn’t anyone around paying any attention. The main bustle was over at the club, but she was far away from it now. Went to wait next to a parking garage a distance away so Bucky would have an easier time spotting her. A huge building filled with cars, not people. Sure, there were cars going by, but no one gave a shit what happened outside the nice tinted glass of their ride.

To her left, yards away, the fluorescent lights of Hydra’s sign flashed mockingly at her. To her right the street was deserted, the parking garage was huge enough that it took up the sidewalk till it hooked around the other corner several yards away. In front of her the street flowed like an impassable, steady river of cars. The neanderthals blocked her from heading back to the safety of Hydra.

It would be a lucky day if anyone paid her any attention at all.

“Aw you even talk like her. Why don’t we play a little?” The ringleader stepped into her circle of light now. Contaminating it. She pressed further back against the brick behind her “I’ll be the Hulk, and you can be my little Widow.” He had greasy dark hair, pushed back from his long pale face, the brim of a scuffed top hat hooded his dark eyes. He was toned underneath his circus coat, she could tell by the way it hugged his chest. A literal evil ringmaster. How ironic. Probably not even all that ugly when that sneer didn’t stretch his face. Probably one of those guys that didn’t take no for an answer, even in a setting much nicer than this.

As they crowded closer in, she could smell the alcohol on them. Alcohol, and pot. Not that substances are any excuse, but it made her spine tingle with adrenaline. Substances just made people get angrier faster and hit harder.

Without even responding, she bolted, or tried. Lunged to the right. Maybe if she made it to the end of the block she could go across the crosswalk. Across the street there were restaurants, and people. She made it all of five steps before a hand caught her wrist and wrenched her back. Involuntarily, she stumbled into Ringleader’s chest. His other arm snaked around her waist, crushing her there as she tried to wiggle away.

She screamed then.

Whether she believed it would help or not. It was just a natural damn response. Fear sliced down her spine and beat the wail out of her.

His hand left her wrist and covered her mouth. Circus Freak’s palm tasted dirty when she tried to bite, but he just pressed harder. His thumb wrapped over her nose. She could barely breathe.

“Shut the fuck up.” He tugged her back, making her stumble with him, and then took her out of the light all together. The lamp flickered and hummed, above her head. She watched it get smaller. He dragged her over towards the opening of the car garage. It gaped at her like the ominous jaws of a monster. If she went in there, she might never come out.

Even if she did, she might not be able to put herself back together. Not for a second time.

Y/N tried letting herself go dead weight, but he just grunted and pulled her harder. Ringleader’s arm was an iron bar. It dug into and bruised her ribs. Her jacket hiked up from the squirming, and suddenly his grimy hand was squeezing her bare side. Heartbeat spiking, she scratched at his arms, kicked at his legs, started to buck back. Her feet didn’t connect with more than his shins, but at least he cursed. Blood welled up under her nails, and as she squirmed his hand started to slip. She fought with everything she had in her. Finally, he let go of her mouth to contain her arms.

“Grab the goddamn slut’s legs!” He demanded, voice rough from too many smokes. Hands caught her wrists in a bruising vice. He tugged them up above her head.

Fatty in the ball jersey did as ordered. He bent over and grabbed her thighs, lifting them off the ground. Couldn’t get a solid hold with her bucking. He managed to keep her calves lifted, and she used his support to push off. With all her strength, she brought up one foot when he pushed closer to her. She got in one good, hard kick into his snarling face. The heel of her boot cracked him right in the nose. Snapped his head back and he let out a surprised wail. A wave of gratification swept her chest. She even smiled a little, past the tears that smeared her mascara.

It didn’t last long. Jersey held his flooding nose with his left hand and stammered “You bitch!” The rage in his voice tremored through his muscles. He brought back his big meaty hand and landed a stinging backhand across her face. Bastard had a hulking ring on his finger. The jewel caught on her cheekbone and tore into her skin. Her ears started to ring, and glowing halos of light danced in her eyes when she blinked. The force split her lip and she tasted blood.

At least his nose looked broken, blood splattering across his stupid purple jersey. She hoped the stain never came out.

In slapping her, he let go of her feet, so she started trying to kick again. She kicked despite the throbbing through her skull. Kicked despite the ringing in her ears. Despite the hands that constricted her. Bruised her.

Still, it wasn’t really going anywhere. She pegged another guy with devil horns in the middle of his chest. He caught her feet, wrapped them under one of his arms, and constrained her. They started shuffling closer to the entrance, and she started to scream again. Her shoulders ached from bearing all her weight, and she stared up at Ringleader. His breath stank of alcohol when he stared down at her with a chilling grin.

That was when she heard a distinctive skid of tires on the sidewalk.

“What the fuck?” One of the others, he had on a very ironic Superman getup, muttered as headlights blinded her. The guys were circled around the front of her, Ringleader binding her arms above her head from behind, Devil Horns holding her feet in front of her. Dirty Superman and Pirate Hat flanked her sides. All of them turned to gape as the lights turned off, and the sound of boots against sidewalk stalked towards them.

Somehow, Y/N knew who it was before she even heard him speak or saw his face. Her entire body sagged in relief, and she strained her neck to try and see.

“Bucky!” She screamed, but then Ringleader cut her off. He jostled her to hold her wrists in one hand, covering her mouth with the other. Devil horns dropped her feet, and she barely kept from falling like a stone. Ringleader tugged her up and back against him.

The others huddled away from Bucky when he got closer. She could just make out his face in the street lights, and his expression made her freeze. His eyes were as cold as winter. Face stony to match. He stood up at all his height, more menacing than ever before, and had yet to utter a single word.

Didn’t really have to. His body language said it all.

Ringleader must have been too stupid to listen “Hey buddy. I suggest you move along. Nothin’ to see here. Our friend was just about to show us a good time. Weren’t ya?” He spoke down to her, shaking her a little. Y/N let out a shriek of rage, clawing at his arm, ripping up more skin beneath his sleeve. He squeezed her mouth tighter, cutting off her air all together. Tears blurred her vision, streaks already staining her cheeks. She couldn’t remember when exactly she started crying. Her lungs burned as she fought to breathe through his skin.

Bucky’s fists clenched at his sides, one covered by a glove. Sporting a leather jacket, white t-shirt, black jeans, and heavy boots he looked almost like John Travolta from Grease. Styled hair and everything. Would have made her weak in the knees in any other situation. Currently, she was struggling to breathe for entirely different reasons.

When he took a threatening step forward, her band of assholes stepped back. A gust of wind ruffled everyone’s hair, and she noticed little white flakes reflecting in the street lamp behind Bucky. Crystals caught in his hair, and she wondered why the universe made tonight the first snow fall.

A heavy silence hung thick in the air. She slapped progressively harder at Ringleader’s hand until he let her breathe again. By then her head was getting light. He still insisted on keeping his hand over her mouth. She sucked air in through her nose. The smell of cigarettes encased her, clogging the air.

Bucky’s eyes met hers across the tense darkness, and she could feel his worry without any words. It reflected in his blue eyes. Spoke through the small crease in his brow, and tense set of his mouth. Finally, though, he did speak up. His words dominated over the cars in the street and boomed across the sidewalk. Slowly, he stared down every single person with a deadly sort of calm.

“I suggest you douchebags let her go. Right now. If you want to walk away from here tonight.” His voice wavered just a bit in pent up rage. She tracked that rage across the stiffness of his shoulders and the clenching of his fists. Distantly she wondered how much damage he could do with a metal fist helping him. How many people had he made bleed with it during the war.

She watched a shudder pass through the spines of everyone standing there. The frost coming off him even made the tips of her fingers prickle. She squeezed her captor’s hand tighter, trying to pry it back off her mouth. He didn’t budge.

Stupidity, and pride always prevail. Ringleader laughed, and the movement jostled her. Her shoes scraped against the side walk as he tugged her up, making her stand on her tiptoes. The position strained her neck, and made her thighs burn. She arched her back to keep from pressing against him more than he made her. “Again, you should really leave before you piss me off. It’s five against one pal, can’t you count?”

Bucky smirked, but it was a bitter, piercing expression “I think you should count again.” Confusion passed through her for only a half of a second.

Then he charged. So fast she almost missed it. Pulling back his flesh hand he decked the nearest guy straight in the nose. It was Ironic Superman. The blow was so vicious she heard the crack from where she was a yard away. Superman’s head violently snapped to the left. His body followed it all the way to the ground. He didn’t move.  

“Four.” It made her heart jump in her throat when Bucky’s voice rang over the scuffle.

Bucky didn’t stop there. He spun just in time for Pirate to throw a wide fist towards his head. It was like he knew the blow was coming. Bucky ducked down. Dipped to the left. Then he stood straight, so damn light on his feet. Pirate stumbled past him, having displaced too much of his weight. Then he sloppily caught himself and faced Bucky angrily. Didn’t waste a second to attack again. Bucky was waiting. He slid just far enough to the right to let the blow go over his shoulder.

Pirate fell against his chest, and Bucky used the momentum to his favor. He caught his shoulders. Then used the downward momentum to drive his knee straight up into the guy’s chest. The feather fell from his hat as he let out all the air in his lungs. Bucky then drove his elbow into the back of his head before dropping him like a stone. The pirate hat landed in the gutter off the sidewalk.

“Three.”

Y/N held her breath. All of Bucky’s movements were so precise. No energy was wasted. He was proficient in every step. It was terrifying. He was beautifully deadly.

Devil Horns charged at Bucky with a roar. He was shorter, but stout as a rock. His fists flew fast enough that Bucky had to block them with his arms. One of the punches thrust straight for Bucky’s nose. He caught the blow with his left hand. Devil Horns tried to yank back and grunted at the strain. She thought she saw Bucky smirk, but then he blurred again. With a wide swing, he spun Devil and drove him face first into the awaiting concrete. The man’s forehead hit it with a hard thud. He stumbled back three steps. Bucky grabbed the back of his head and smacked it against the brick wall a second time.

He slumped to the ground after that. Horns all askew. Blood dripped down from his hairline, mouth slack.

“Two.”

Bucky turned on fatty, who already had a shirt soaked in blood from her. He was holding onto his nose and panting loudly through his mouth in terror. All Buck had to do was take one challenging step forward. Jersey immediately booked it. He passed Bucky and ran straight into traffic. Seemed like he would much rather be hit by a car. Cars honked at him and skidded to a stop to keep from killing his ass. He just kept going. Skipped past the cars, and then disappeared around a corner across the street.

“One.”

She could feel the rage trembling through Circus Freak. A span of silence stretched between them as her captor debated on what to do.

With a whip, he flung her to the side, making fall hard onto the sidewalk. Her elbow smarted when it caught her deadweight, making her cry out in pain. Then she scuffled up as quick as she could, scooting back and out of the way. Y/N felt small down on the side walk, pressed back against the wall. Two goliaths fought it out in front of her.

Bucky dodged back as her attacker threw a fist. He dipped to the left. Weaved out of the way to the right. He narrowly avoided Ringleader’s punches. She wondered why he was being on the defensive more now. At least, she wondered until she caught the glint of the butterfly knife in Ringleader’s hand.

He knocked the knife out of the way and landed a solid punch on the guy’s jaw. It didn’t stop him, though. He just swung harder, faster. Fueled by rage and hurt pride. He crowded Bucky back until he was a step from the street. Cars whizzed by, and it seemed Ringleader wanted to shove Bucky under one of them. A semi-truck barreled down towards them, and she saw the heel of his shoe slip.

“Bucky!” She screamed in warning and his head whipped towards her. He stepped forward, towards her and away from the street. Distracted, she saw the flash of the blade before he did. Ringleader finally landed a sharp slice across his chest. She let out a sharp scream. Blood stained his white shirt. Bucky didn’t even wince. In fact, he didn’t react at all.

As Ringleader swung for a second swipe, he caught the guy’s arm in his left hand. His face carefully blank. Like he hadn’t been cut at all. He forced Ringleader back two steps and loomed over him. His mouth was set hard, and his silver eyes were the embodiment of winter.

Ringleader tugged, trying to get free. He swung loosely with his non-dominant hand, but Bucky caught that fist too. Then he squeezed. Only with his left hand. She watched at the man’s knees started to wobble under him. He dropped the blade with a clatter. Then he screamed.

“What the fuck?! Let me go you psycho! You’re gonna break­—” She luckily didn’t hear the crack of his bones. It was obvious in his wail, though. He kept going down until he was on his knees. Bucky let go of his non-dominant hand. Still kept his agonizing hold with his left.

Ringleader clawed at Bucky’s gloved hand with his free one. He tried to get free like a fox caught in a bear trap. Yanked so hard that she was surprised he didn’t dislocate his shoulder. The snow came down harder now. It caught on the brim of his top hat where it had fallen near his legs, making it almost grey. Bucky’s hair had come free from its pomade. It fell in his face as he stooped down to glare at the squirming man.

He wasn’t speaking. Wasn’t flinching when the man tried to pry the metal fingers off him. It was like he wasn’t there at all. Like his mind had checked out, and left behind a ghost.

“I’m sorry! Please man! Let me go!” His voice broke as he started to sob.

Y/N scrambled to her feet. Bucky wasn’t stopping. He already broke the guy’s hand. Yet he kept squeezing. The man was howling now, begging. Seemed like he might have even pissed himself. She took a couple steps towards them, hesitant at first. Bucky didn’t even seem to notice her anymore. He scared her like this. Terrified her to her very bones. She reached out a hand, but her feet were lead. Then Bucky brought back his flesh hand, ready to punch Ringleader again.

“Bucky!” She shouted, forcing herself to move. It took her just three easy steps to get beside him. She grabbed his fist in the air. Wasn’t strong enough to make it come down from its position, but she tugged anyway. Practically draped herself against him, holding his arm where it hung in the air next to her head “Stop! Stop it.” She spoke louder at first, but then softened her tone when she felt him freeze. He didn’t look at her. Just glared down at her attacker. “I’m ok. I’m alright now. Let him go. Please.” The muscles in his arm eased up just enough. She gently guided his flesh hand down, uncurling his fist. She pried at his fingers until his fist relaxed minutely.

“Y-ya man. L-listen to your girl you should j-just- Fuck!!” Bucky had started releasing his grip on the guy’s wrist, but the moment he started blabbering he squeezed again. A growl rumbled in his throat, like the guy personally offended him by breathing.

“Buck!” Y/N chastised him, reaching over and touching his metal hand. Probably for the very first time if she thought about it. She could feel it underneath the glove, harder than bone, and cold even through the material. “Please, let’s just go. He can’t hurt me anymore.” Probably wouldn’t hurt anyone anymore for a long time.

Bucky finally let go at her touch. He shoved Ringleader’s arm away like it disgusted him. Didn’t stop glowering at him, though. Still wouldn’t look at her. The man collapsed into a heap onto the sidewalk. His broken wrist was already blue, swollen, and bent wrong. It made her nauseous, so she stared back at Bucky’s face instead.

Ringleader scraped himself up after a minute and started to run away. Scrambled past the parking garage, down the snow dusted sidewalk. Shoes skidded a couple times, and his pants leg did have a noticeable damp spot. His arm was cradled to his chest. Only a yard away, he turned his head, coat bustling in the wind “Your dog’s a fucking psycho! Should keep him on a goddamn leash!” Then he jogged faster, letting his words disappear behind him. Like the coward he was.

Bucky tried to lunge after him. His muscles bunched under her hand as he snarled. She stepped in front of him just a second before he could start the chase. Y/N pressed herself to him, hands flat on his chest. The blood from his wound was hot against her hands, but she barely noticed. Too focused on blocking his path. Peering up at him, she realized that her eye had started to swell shut. He didn’t shove her out of the way. In fact, he finally looked down at her. It was like her action had finally broken him out of the fog he was in.

As they stared at each other for several long minutes, the defeated attackers slowly roused. One by one the other members of the group scraped themselves off the sidewalk. None of them were dead thank god. They quickly fled too. Silently, though. She barely paid them any attention. It was still snowing hard, and she watched as flakes caught in his eyelashes. Headlights cast shifting shadows around them. Wrestling like demons at their feet. She couldn’t help but question what demons Bucky kept locked inside of his head. Only demons could make someone fight as desperately as he just did.

Slowly, afraid of startling him, she reached up and touched his cheek. She cupped his face in her hands and studied him seriously “Are you alright?” Her thumb brushed over his bruised jaw. It did dawn on her that it was ironic for her to be asking him if he was alright. After everything that had happened. She did it anyway. He seemed to have lost himself during the fight. His eyes were focusing from somewhere far away. She couldn’t believe she just watched him break someone’s hand without flinching. With the adrenaline wearing off, she wanted to cry all over again.

Bucky blinked once. Then twice. He swallowed and grimaced. His flesh hand gently touched her left. His longer fingers cupped over hers. It was so warm. She could feel the calluses on his palms as he slowly guided her hand away. He didn’t touch her with his metal one, but she dropped her hand anyway. It was obvious he was uncomfortable with her touching him like that. She left small smudges of blood on his cheek.

“I’m fine. Are you ok?” He brought his right hand up and touched the side of her face. She winced, realizing that her cheek was still on fire. Her lip felt tender too when her tongue tested the dried blood.

“Why do guys always managed to hit a girl right across the cheekbone?” She asked, trying to make a joke but it landed flat. He didn’t even try to smile. His thumb brushed across her lip, and she grimaced, looking away. Ringleader’s hat was still on the ground right by her foot. She stepped on it, grinding it into the snow. When she moved her foot away, it inflated like a crumbled accordion. She thought maybe Bucky did snort at that. It was too quiet for her to be sure.

“God I’m a mess.” The words babbled out of her past the buzzing in her ears. She glanced down at herself. One knee was ripped open and so was her elbow, both were bleeding. Her jacket had come unzipped down to her ribs, leaving everything showing. Y/N brought her hand up to zip it back, but her fingers were shaking too much to get a good grip. Her breaths started to come in faster as she got more, and more frustrated. Her fingers were numb and clumsy.

Bucky’s hand came up and he covered her own, taking the damned thing. He slowly closed her jacket back up to her collarbones. She had never in her life been more grateful for such a simple action. His thumb stroked her collar just once, leaving a hot trail behind. Then his hands fell away.

Before she could find the words to thank him, her eyes caught the sheen of red on his chest “Y-You’re hurt, and b-bleeding a lot and you’re asking me if I’m ok?” She gave a hysterical laugh, tears already escaping her eyes again. They stung the cut the guy left on her cheekbone. Her hands shook as she brought them up. She wanted to get a better look at the cut. What if he needed stitches? What if he got a scar cause of her? Cause she distracted him like an idiot?

“I-I’m so sorry. I sh-shouldn’t have yelled. I was just so scared and—"

Bucky’s eyes widened, and he quickly brought up his arms. The motion cut off her babbling, uncontrollable apology. He tugged her into an enveloping, hard hug. She tried to protest as he pressed her against his wound, but then his chest rumbled as he started to talk. Her ear was trapped against his collarbone above the wound. It was the most comforting sound she had ever heard “I’m ok doll. Promise. It doesn’t hurt that much. Trust me, I’ve had worse.” He shushed her when she tried to speak “Believe me. Much worse.” Then he squeezed her shoulder lightly and rubbed. The metal hand he just used to crush someone’s arm rubbed hers with more tenderness than she had experienced in a very long time.

Somehow, it didn’t bother her at all.

Finally, once her shoulders stopped shaking and her gross sniffling died down, he pulled back. Bucky held her just a bit away, his hands still rubbing her shoulders. He reached up and wiped at her chin, grimacing. He gave a very weak, sheepish smile “Sorry, I got blood on your…” He trailed off, gesturing to her face. She just shrugged, too tired to care. There were a lot of things smeared on her face. Besides, she got blood on his too. Just didn’t even have the energy to tell him. When he noticed his left hand was still touching her, he dropped it down.

Y/N sniffed, trying to clear her nose. The cold snowy air hurt her lungs. Then she rubbed at her face as much as she could stand. Her eye felt tender and wouldn’t stop blurring.  Probably smudging tears, blood, and makeup all together. Then she spoke up, voice a bit rough “I don’t mind it.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, tilting his head a little. Confused. She shivered as a gust of wind caught her. Now that the adrenaline had passed, she was so frosty her teeth were starting to chatter. Still, she tried to elaborate “Y-Your metal arm doesn’t bother me.”

Bucky stared at her critically and then shook his head, as if she were ridiculous “Let’s get you home.” He sighed, wrapping an arm over her shoulders, his right one. The snow had covered any traces of a fight taking place at all. It was already sticking to the street, forming muddy tracks from the tires. He tucked her into his side where it was warm, under his jacket. Now that she had a calm minute, she enjoyed the way his smell enveloped her.

“I’m s-serious!” She still couldn’t stop shivering “It’s just another p-part of you. A-And I like y-you.” She glared up at him, trying to drill in her honesty with her eyes.

Bucky only stopped to consider at her after they reached his bike. He let her go and dusted the snow off the seat. Then he grabbed a helmet, offering it to her quietly. She was just about to speak up again when he finally whispered, “Thank you.” If she hadn’t been looking at him, she thought the words might have been stolen by the loud gust of wind.

There wasn’t much else she could say to that. So, she put on her silver helmet, and climbed onto the bike behind him. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, revealing a black unzipped hoodie underneath. He shoved his jacket into her hands, and she shrugged it on quietly, grateful. Everything ached too much for her to argue.

Bucky clasped on his own helmet and revved up the bike. When it jumped to life underneath her, she quickly wrapped her arms around his waist, stuffing them into the pockets of his jacket when the wind bit at her fingers. At least the helmet kept her ears warm. She thought she felt Bucky chuckle underneath her when she gripped tighter. He pulled on a second glove, zipped up his jacket, and then smoothly merged into the nighttime traffic.

The drive home wasn’t as wonderful as she thought it would be. Not after everything that just happened. Still, it was beautiful. He weaved through the cars with a precise control, that was definitely dangerous. It reminded her a little of how he fought. Daring, and proficient.

At lot of the time he passed cars without any legal right-of-way at all. Bucky went as fast as he could, and she wondered if he was running from something. Running from the demons she couldn’t see that nipped at his heels. Y/N never felt in harms way, though. If anything, he made her feel like they were flying. Like the bike was gliding up off the ground whenever she wasn’t looking. Colors blurred past her. Paint smudges on a canvas, outlined in charcoal. She bunched the fabric of Bucky’s jacket in her hands and turned her forehead to press against the broad of his back.

He covered her hand with his right one. Slipped it into the pocket and laced them together. His skin was warm on top of hers. Wistfully, she imagined he still had charcoal on his fingers. That the charcoal would smudged across her skin and stain it forever. Leaving a mark that would remind her he was there. Even when he wasn’t.

Next Chapter

#bucky x reader #bucky barns x reader #marvel #fanfiction #slow burn #au #alternate universe #artist au #angst #bucky barns fanfiction #fluff #romance #love hurts #tori2k #writing challenge #marvel fanfiction #james bucky barnes #tashariiwriting

[averyrogers83]

Take A Picture

Author: @averyrogers83

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Prompt: #14 I wish I had a camera

Word Count: 1477

Summary: Steve Rogers is busy with trying to keep the world safe; while everyone else on the team spends their free time away from the compound Steve is always found in his office working, till one day he decides he needs a break.

Warning: A curse word or two. Is it a problem that this is just fluff?

Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @writingcroissant #tori2K writing challenge. I’m just getting back into writing and doing Marvel related fics. Thanks to my awesome hubby for editing this with me. Hope you like it.

Most of the time one could find Steve hiding in his office working on the mounds of paperwork on his desk, he said it relaxed him, especially after a particularly difficult mission.  Today Steve decided he needed a change of scenery, so while everyone else on the team was either out doing their own thing or hanging out in the common room; Steve took this moment to make the most of his day off.  

With his sketchbook and pencil in hand Steve made his way into the city.  At first Steve walked through the streets of Brooklyn, a place he once called home, but through the years and all the changes, it became less like home and more like another foreign land.  The now unfamiliar scenery made him feel a sadness that left a hole in his heart that he seemed unable to fill.  Shaking away the sadness Steve decided to leave Brooklyn and ride the subway to nowhere in particular.  Eventually he got off at the 72nd Street station and walked over to the park where  Strawberry Fields; a memorial to the late John Lennon was.  After the first time Steve had visited the spot, he decided to look him up on the computer and listen to his songs; Imagine was one of his favorites and found that he respected him more for his vision of peace and understanding.  

After sketching the memorial in his book, Steve packed up his things and headed deeper into the park till he found the fountain, this would be the perfect setting to relax and continue sketching, the bench facing the lake would be his escape.  As he sat there he noticed a little boy and girl running around laughing and playing by the fountain while what looked like their mother watched nearby.  That’s when he saw her, sitting there alone and reading not paying attention to anyone else around her.  She seemed so happy and content in her own little world.  Something captivated him and he began to sketch her likeness. Before he knew it the sun was beginning to set and she was hurriedly packing up her belongings.

For the next two weeks it was the same,  Steve would finish his paperwork then head to his spot in the park facing the lake while sketching and looking for her.  Once she was there with a couple of friends, laughing and talking without a care in the world.  She seemed so happy.  A part of him envied them for being the ones to make her smile.  A smile that was so infectious that he couldn’t help but smile himself. In just two weeks she had already made him feel something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.  

And each time he saw her he wound up sketching a new image of her in his book, but never getting up the nerve to talk to her or even ask her name.  

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Y/N’s POV:

It was a beautiful Spring day, the sun was shining and the park was filled with locals and tourists alike.  It was Friday; the one day she enjoyed sitting at the park people watching or reading a book.  She sat in her usual spot as she contemplated where her life was going as she tried to relax from the hustle and bustle of what she considered her real shit of a life.  Staring at her book she caught sight of a little boy and girl running around laughing and playing by the fountain while what looked like their mother watched nearby, that’s when she noticed him.  Sitting there on the bench facing the lake with a book in his hand.  She knew who he was, there was no mistaking the blonde mane and the chiseled look that this was Captain-freaking-America.  She tried not to make it obvious that she was staring so she pretended to read her book, she found herself so enamored by him that she read the same passage at least ten times before giving up.

Y/N reluctantly began packing up her belongings as the sun began to set.  The temptation to say something to Steve Rogers was strong, but not strong enough to overcome her shyness.  Besides she didn’t want to intrude on his personal time and it was clear that he was trying not to attract attention to himself.  So instead she made her way home only to hope that the next week he might be there again.  Sure enough he was, unfortunately though she was there with her friends and as much as she wished she could be there alone she hadn’t seen her friends for several months due to their busy lives.  Whenever she could she would steal a glance in his direction and smile.  

For the next couple of weeks Y/N was there waiting in her favorite spot to see if Captain Hot-Bod would show up and each time she would think; today would be the day she would get the nerve to talk to him, but each time she would pack up her things and walk towards him only to lose her nerve and walk away.  Her friends could tell that she was preoccupied with something and with a little….no a lot of coaxing she revealed her crush for the All-American-Hero.  They all convinced her that the next week she needed to make the first move.  So when she got to her favorite spot she decided it was now or never.  When the sun began to set and Rogers was nowhere in sight her heart dropped.  She knew it was too late and she had lost out on any chance of getting to know the man beyond the legend.  

The following weeks were rough for Y/N, filled with stress from her job and working extra hours she had little time to think let alone spend her Fridays at her favorite spot.  Unable to see the one man that could put a smile on her face and give her some much needed joy in her life.  Little did she know that a certain blonde had been looking forward to seeing her and was just as disappointed when she wasn’t there.

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Steve’s POV:

Steve made his way back to his usual spot one last time, not so much to relax but to see if the Y/H/C beauty that had captured his heart would be there and he could finally get the nerve to at least ask her name.  Sitting there in his usual spot facing the fountain he took out his sketchbook and looked around, but she wasn’t there.  It was probably for the best considering who he was and the life he led.  Did he even have time for a relationship while trying to keep the world and the people in his life safe.  He had long ago given up the notion of ever living a normal life.  He lost all chance of that 70 years ago.  

As the last rays of the sun disappear and the sky is filled with warm hues of yellow, orange, red, and purple Steve took one last deep breath in and slowly exhaled smiling to himself knowing that even though he may never see his mystery woman again he still felt happy and content to have had something in his life that made him happy even for just a fleeting moment.  He was so lost in thought the he didn’t notice the light footsteps approaching from behind until she she spoke.  

It’s quite beautiful isn’t it?

Yes it is. I wish I had a camera, so I could capture it’s true beauty.  Sketching just doesn’t do it justice.

I have my phone I could take a picture and send it to you…if you want..

I would love that.  I’m Steve by the way.

(Y/N giggled) Y/N, it’s nice to meet you Steve.  

For a brief moment the two didn’t speak, they just looked into each other’s eyes and smiled.  They spent the next several hours walking through the park laughing and smiling, both feeling as though they had finally found the one person that could fill the emptiness they had been feeling for so long. 

taglist: @writingcroissant

#tori2k #steve x reader #steve rogers