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amonrawya · 3 years

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The Greatest Gift of All

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(Inspired by^ for the people who asked :D hope it was worth the wait!)

Long before the war, before Captain America or the Winter Soldier, there was simply Bucky and Steve. At least, that's what history says. But they missed out one very important person, a girl called Y/N.

Women in those times often found themselves with little opportunity, and only two easily attainable pathways in life: wife and mother. But Y/N carved out a life for herself that defied all expectations, and it all started in Brooklyn.

She dived headlong into scuffles, usually next to Bucky in defence of Steve. Regardless of the opponent, Y/N stood by them both, and often held her own quite impressively.

Her dress style borrowed from more masculine cuts, and Y/N was never seen without her cap. A lot of people had a problem with this, but she shut them up fairly swiftly.

Everything about this girl drew Bucky in, a battle he fought with little effort. They reveled in each other, flaunting their love at every opportunity. More than a few were jealous that the rough and tumble girl got the best looking boy in town.

In a way, before even coming of age, they started an adult life together. The three of them moved into a flat. Y/N and Bucky took hard labour jobs, or anything they could get. They had little room to be picky.

Both managed to hook steady summer jobs at the local docks. They used most of their money to keep a roof over their heads, buy food, and pay for Steve's medical needs. He attended art school, and sold his work every now and then; but physically, he was in no condition to work.

The war appeared on the horizon, just as they started to pull themselves an inch above the poverty line. Y/N saw it coming, the inevitable. She treasured every second they spent together, and dreaded the day when the draft came.

A lot of the older women she worked with were disrespectful, looking down on her pre-marital relationship with Bucky. They claimed she couldn't possibly understand their grief, despite the fact Y/N had seen Bucky off at the docks that very morning.

In truth, they already planned on being married, but at the time, they simply didn't have the funds. Bucky promised, once the war ended, that ring would be on her finger.

Except, he never came home. Not properly. The person Hydra gave back to Y/N was damaged and jaded, angry at the world, angrier than she ever saw. But still, they loved each other. Though she never forgave them for stealing away his innocence, for trying to snuff out the light in his soul. A part of him would always belong to them, and she hated it.

Refusing to stay home while they risked their lives, never knowing, Y/N trained as an army nurse, working specially with the Howling Commandos unit.

Then one day, she went out to welcome them back from a mission. Every face looked devastated, but none more so than Steve. His eyes, red-raw and streaming, seemed incapable of rising from the ground. At first, the realisation didn't process, the idea simply incomprehensible. He promised.

Dugan was the one to finally break through and catch Y/N as she fell, holding her as the tears poured. Once he shook off his daze, Steve took his place, sharing in her grief.

Her world fell apart so quickly, with no warning and no mercy. Their commanders celebrated the capture of Arnim Zola, while Y/N and Steve sat, staring at an empty place at their side.

Everyone mourned Bucky, and swiftly after, began to mourn Y/N, too. The loss took a part of her...the sparkle, the happiness, the laugh that lit up her face. It all vanished. She worked hard, looked after them all, but only Steve was able to make her smile. Even then, it looked pained.

So when Steve went down with the plane, the very last shred of Y/N died with him. No tears left her eyes, no screams ripped up her throat. A cold numbness took over, freezing the woman from the inside out.

V-Day came and went. The Commandos stood and drank to their lost comrades, and Dugan silently drank another...for the loss of a bright, fiery girl who had virtually nothing to lose, and still lost everything.

She spent her days as a robot, doing nothing but going through the motions of badly imitating life. The flat was empty and quiet, yet somehow, bursting with the ghosts of her loved ones. Nightmares plagued her, terrible images of Bucky's body, forever trapped in a freezing hell, nothing but food for the birds. And Steve, his body...was it cast adrift in the ocean? Or destroyed, burnt to ash in the belly of a metal beast.

They were simple folk before the war turned them into soldiers, into weapons. Before symbols and flags stole away their names, driving them to sacrifice their lives for a greater cause.

Y/N knew their fight against Hydra was important...knew the honour behind their sacrifice. But when it's you left sitting at an empty dinner table, it's much easier to be angry and bitter.

She never married, never settled, bouncing around countries working as an army nurse. The Commandos slowly died around her, each one fading to grey as the curtain drew the show to a close. Each death, each funeral ripped open her wounds, bigger and deeper each time. Until eventually, Y/N let the blood flow freely.

Or at least, that's what would have happened. But one choice, one decision, made by a boy she thought dead in the far future, changed it all.

Bucky Barnes struggled to find himself again. His memories were mostly all returned, if a bit hazy and fragmented. He had Steve there to right any wrong recollections, and connect with on their shared experiences. But something always seemed to be missing, a piece of the jigsaw that hadn't been found.

He remembered Y/N. He remembered her clearer than anything. She was glowing like honey in the sun when Bucky closed his eyes and brought her back to mind.

Face covered in muck, hair tousled and streaked with grease from the boats, soot on the very tip of her nose and a cap perched jauntily on her head; wearing the deepest expression of concentration as she aimed a hanful of rotten fish guts at the sleezy Connell boy from Fifth, who decided his opinion on her backside mattered. The image shone crystal clear. Her laughter, rolling out from between curved lips, beautiful and full of mischief.

It never failed to make him smile. Or cry. Or sometimes, both. He missed Y/N than he thought possible for a human being.

Bucky often wondered about her life, whether she went on to marry, or maybe even have children. Was she happy? Did she bury him and move on? If they met today, would Y/N even recognise the man he was now?

More importantly, in his mind, something he both feared and longed to know: would she still love him?

Unbeknownst to Bucky, Steve saw all this. Understood, to a degree, his pain. But he and Peggy never got the chance to bond so strongly. He knew Bucky needed him, but Steve also knew he needed Y/N more.

So once his goodbyes were said, he looked one last time at Bucky, and smiled beneath his suit as he vanished into time.

The living room looked exactly the same as he remembered. Bucky's coat, slung over the back of the chair, his sketchbooks strewn around the desk. Every rip and chip. His heart swelled with nostalgia, and pain, thinking of the life they were supposed to have.

What must have been in their heads...running off to fight, so eager to throw everything away. And who was left to stare at empty beds and eat breakfast alone every morning? Y/N.

His chest constricted, hearing the keys in the door, the lock rattling three times before letting her in. His nerve faltered for the briefest second, wondering if he was ready to see her again.

"Who the hell are you?!"

Time's up.

Slowly, he turned, and watched as Y/N's eyes widened, all the bags in her hands falling to the floor with a crash.

"...Stevie?" The name came out as a whisper, nearly inaudible.

He grinned, laughing as tears stung his eyes. "Hey, spitfire. Long time no see."

"Steve!" She launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck and clinging on for dear life.

Catching her by the waist, he swung Y/N around, burying his face in her hair. They held onto one another as if they might vanish if they let go. But after a minute, Steve gently pushed her back.

"How? How are you here? What are you wearing? I don't understand, Steve, they said you died! Your plane went down in the ocean," she stammered, hand on his forearm with a grip like a vice.

"I survived. The serum kept me alive in the ice for seventy years," he said, questioning his own sanity momentarily; standing in the flat again made everything that happened seem like a distant dream.

Y/N frowned, brows knitting together. "What? Did you hit your head? Steve, this is 1945."

"I know, I came from 2023. I'm alive," he said, and saw her mentally backing away, so added, "I'm alive, and so is Bucky."

Her head snapped up, eyes immediately filling with tears. A dozen emotions whizzed through them in a second; disbelief, pain, hope. It shone clearly in her face as she stepped closer.

What did you say?" She asked, voice choked as she brought her shaking hands up to her mouth.

"Bucky's alive," he repeated softly, "and I can send you to him, in the future. But we don't have a lot of time. You need to listen to me, carefully, and do what I say."

She spluttered, struggling for words. "I, but...what about you?"

"I've made my decision," Steve said, and gently took her hands in his, "now, please, listen."

Bucky watched the machine, feeling a wave of numbness wash over his insides. Nothing was a better deal than the pain, the cruel sting of betrayal fighting to be felt. But he beat it back, unable to allow those thoughts validation.

Steve gave up so much for him, he fought for years to get him here. Steve deserved this. And no matter how wrong those words sounded in his head, he resolutely stood by them.

The seconds ticked by, noted by Bruce's countdown. A flash of guilt almost made Bucky explain what was going to happen, explain that Steve left them. Left him. But he possessed no energy to speak, they'd see in a second, when no one appeared-

Zap. A blinding flash of light.

There's someone there.

Bucky frowned, hands falling from his pockets. Did Steve change his mind? Did he...

All the thoughts in his head stopped as the figure stepped down. Too small, too lithe for it to be Steve. Bucky's heart rate quickened, something in his unconscious already registering his recognition.

The suit fell away, and if he weren't frozen in place, Bucky wouldn't have been standing. A quiver shot through him, nearly buckling his knees. Shock, fear and pure disbelief all delayed his reaction.

Y/N looked around, amazed, but turned to stone as she set eyes on him. Her face went utterly blank, a strangled sound leaving her lips.

Wearing her yard slacks, with a small bag on her shoulder, her face covered in dirt, hair streaked with grease, cap perched on-top, slanted to one side...she was everything he remembered, and his heart tried to leave his chest to go to her. To be whole again.

But fear held him back. She didn't know the things he'd done, the person he became after the train accident. What if-

"Who is she?" Sam asked, glaring as he stalked towards her, an accusation rising on his lips.

Bucky answered without hesitation, or thinking; the question had been asked countless times over the years. It always recieved the same reply. "My doll."

Sam stopped short, glancing between them, the way neither took their eyes off the other. He nodded, brows still closely knit, and backed off.

Slowly, Y/N approached, encouraged by the sound of his voice. She reached out carefully, when she got close enough. Trembling fingers brushed his cheek, and a shudder ran through her.

"My Bucky..." She said quietly, eyes roaming over his face, a small smile tugging at her lips, "...you're here, in front of me. Alive."

He swallowed dryly, heart thundering away beneath his skin. "I'm different...you don't know..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth that her eyes found the cold metal where his flesh used to be. In reaching to hold it, she'd been taken by surprise.

Gently, Y/N took the hand in her own, examing the limb with a careful gaze. Moments passed, and she met his eyes again. Bucky steeled himself for rejection, for the disgust and horror.

Her hand went back to his cheek, and he involuntairly leaned into it. The warmth seeped into his blood. She stood on her tip toes, the smile on her lips blossoming into a bright beam of sunlight. "You've always been my Bucky, and always will be. Metal appendages and all."

He fell apart and dove down to capture her lips, clutching her to him with the hunger of a starving man. She pulled herself in, hands tangling in his brown locks, and both tasted salt on the others' lips.

So filled with joy his heart could burst, Bucky revelled in the feeling of holding his girl again. Laughing through the tears, he buried his face in her neck.

Thank you, Steve, for the greatest gift of all.

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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A Beginner’s Guide to Marvel Zombies

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This article contains spoilers for Marvel’s What If…?

Man, Marvel’s What If…? series really does draw you in with a false sense of security, doesn’t it? The first episode is an adorable romance story laced with punching Nazis. The second is a tribute to a late actor in the form of galactic utopia. Then we get the Avengers being murdered, the universe being melted, and now Captain America eating human flesh. Enjoy your nightmares, kids!

The fifth episode of What If…? is a bit of a fanservice choice. For the latter half of the 2000s, Marvel was riding the Marvel Zombies train like nothing else.

While the first use of the concept came in 2005, one could consider What If…? v.2 #24 (What If Wolverine Was Lord of the Vampires?) to be the prototype. The story involved Dracula turning the X-Men into vampires, but Wolverine’s healing factor allowed him to overwhelm Dracula’s control and fight back. He then littered New York City with vampire heroes and humanity’s last hope came in the form of the Punisher wearing Dr. Strange’s cape.

Mark Millar

The first real use of Marvel Zombies was more of a prank than anything else. Mark Millar and Greg Land were doing Ultimate Fantastic Four and all signs pointed to the idea that they were setting up a crossover. Not just any crossover, but THE crossover. Marvel had been adamant about the Ultimate Universe being separated from main continuity, but solicitations and covers made it seem like the two Reed Richards counterparts were going to meet up. Much of Ultimate Fantastic Four #21 played into this with Ultimate Reed conversing with an alternate universe Reed who very much resembled the mainstream one. Ultimate Reed created a portal to go visit him.

What he found was zombie incarnations of the Fantastic Four with Reed asking, “Ever had the feeling you’ve been had?”

Robert Kirkman

The rest of the arc was about Ultimate Reed trying to survive and escape that world with the help of that world’s Magneto. This set the stage for the first Marvel Zombies miniseries, written by The Walking Dead’s Robert Kirkman with art by Sean Phillips (Arthur Suydam did zombie parody covers of classic Marvel art, which would continue for several more miniseries). Initially, Kirkman wanted to do a story about Luke Cage being the last hero alive, playing up his unbreakable skin as a deterrent, but since the Ultimate Fantastic Four arc already depicted Zombie Luke Cage, that was off the table.

Instead, his story involved two main arcs. One was the survival of Black Panther, who – much like the animated What If…? episode – was kept alive, albeit with his limbs being gradually removed for the sake of being zombie food without infecting the body. While the cartoon had Scott Lang’s disembodied head, the comic had a decapitated Zombie Wasp as Panther’s ally. She was never cured of the disease, but she did stop being hungry after a while and came to her senses.

The other story was about Earth’s zombified heroes dealing with the coming of the Silver Surfer and Galactus. A handful of them went on to devour the invaders and absorb their cosmic powers, along with their cosmic hunger. Hank Pym, Iron Man, Luke Cage, Wolverine, Spider-Man, and the Hulk went on to wipe out nearly all life in the universe as the Zombie Galacti. The follow-up was the basis for Marvel Zombies 2.

As for what caused the zombie outbreak in the beginning, that’s where things get a little hairy. The Ultimate Fantastic Four story revealed that a Zombie Superman (recolored to be the Sentry so as not to piss off DC) got so hungry that he punched reality until breaking into an alternate universe and infecting its heroes.

Kirkman and Phillips did a one-shot prequel called Marvel Zombies: Dead Days that suggested that Magneto bartered with some force to unleash the virus on Earth, thinking that it would only target humans and not mutants. Then a later miniseries called Marvel Zombies Return created an alternate universe time-loop where the zombies from Marvel Zombies continuity ended up in another universe, where they caused an outbreak, infected that world’s Sentry, and Zombie Sentry ended up popping into the Marvel Zombies universe to cause the initial outbreak.

Did anybody follow that? I hope so. Either way, Zombie Sentry was never mentioned again. He infected the heroes and then…nothing. Just a loose plot thread. Weird. Though fitting that the Sentry stopped being a threat because people forgot about him.

Crossovers

The initial Marvel Zombies universe was revisited here and there in several ways. Black Panther’s comic (during when he was leader of the Fantastic Four) journeyed into that universe and dealt with the Zombie Galacti. Ash from Army of Darkness got his own cool crossover miniseries taking place during the initial outbreak. Zombie Wolverine showed up in an Exiles story about a team made entirely out of Wolverine variants. Zombie Deadpool (Headpool) became a major part of the short-lived Deadpool Corps. Marvel Zombies also did a crossover with Marvel Apes.

There was also a one-shot called Marvel Zombies Halloween that revealed that Kitty Pryde and her son survived, while also showing what Mephisto was up to in this reality.

Fred Van Lente

With Marvel Zombies 3, Fred Van Lente started writing and brought the series in a different direction. He introduced ARMOR, a SHIELD offshoot based on dealing with alternate realities. While it still dealt with the Marvel Zombies universe, focus was more on the mainstream Marvel universe as it tried to prevent an invasion. The protagonists for the story were Machine Man and Jocasta. In the follow-up, Marvel Zombies 4, Morbius brought the Midnight Sons back together to save the world from a possible outbreak.

Van Lente’s swansong was Marvel Zombies 5, which was about Machine Man and Howard the Duck venturing into different zombie universes for reasons. After that came Marvel Zombies Supreme, taking place in regular Marvel continuity and featuring Battlestar and Jack of Hearts fighting zombie versions of the Squadron Supreme. Then came the last gasp for the line with 2012’s Marvel Zombies Destroy, where ARMOR sends Howard the Duck and Dum Dum Dugan to fight an alternate reality filled with zombie Nazis.

The Zombie Saga Continues

They did get a shot in the arm a few years later with Secret Wars. The event featured a world made up pieces of alternate Earths, haphazardly connected together. There’s a No Man’s Land on this Earth that’s filled with zombies and homicidal robots. It’s basically a place to dump criminals for execution.

A couple more stories were released, though neither had any connection to the original Marvel Zombies or the stuff with ARMOR. Marvel Zombie was a one-shot about a band of heroes trying to survive a zombie apocalypse, who end up teaming with Simon Garth, Marvel’s Zombie. The ending is…well, it sure is something.

More recently is Marvel Zombies: Resurrection. This one is about the Brood infesting and killing Galactus. The race evolves into a hivemind of zombies, all very interested in infecting Franklin Richards. The heroes for this one include Spider-Man, a Sentinel reprogrammed to be Franklin and Valeria’s nanny, a blind Wolverine, a techno-organic Frank Castle, and a SUPER EXCITED Blade.

Also of note is Marvel Universe vs. The Punisher and its sequels (Marvel Universe vs. Wolverine and Marvel Universe vs. The Avengers). This reality also dealt with a zombie superhero apocalypse, but in a different and more coherent way. Instead of being a virus, it was a bio weapon let loose into the ecosystem. That meant that presumably everyone was going to succumb to it eventually, turning into a savage cannibal. The Punisher, who was inadvertently behind the mess and was immune, would spend his days hunting down and beheading heroes. Also, he’d have to kill Deadpool on a nearly daily basis.

That’s Marvel Zombies in a nutshell.

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The post A Beginner’s Guide to Marvel Zombies appeared first on Den of Geek.

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peggysousfan · 5 years

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Captain America: The First Super Soldiers

Chapter 4 is here!!!! peggysousoversteggy, theres so much anti-st*ggy its hilarious lol Enjoy!!! :)

SSR Bunker 1944:

Days have gone by since the rescue mission of the 107th infantry. Today, Captain Sousa was to receive a medal of valor, but he never showed. He and Rogers were in the bunker in New York mapping out Hydras basses scattered around the globe.

"Its not much, but I only got a quick look." Rogers says as he finishes marking and another agent takes it away.

"Thats makes two of us. Damn bombs came outta no where." Sousa says. Steve quickly glares in his direction; not knowing Peggy was watching. She squints and slyly touches Sousa's arm.

"Well nobody's perfect." she says. Steve looks at her and smiles, thinking shes talking to him, and watches her walk away. Daniel watches, smirks, and shakes his head.

"You're wasting your time, Rogers." Daniel says. He grabs some files and starts to follow Peggy.

"What are you talking about?"

"With Agent Carter. Its not gonna happen, trust me."

"And how would you know that? Just because she might have shot you down doesn't mean she'll do it to me." And he storms off, following her faster and speaks to Philips. The only thing Daniel can do is laugh. 'Guy has no idea what hes talking about' he thinks, and then follows.

"These are the weapon factories we know about. Sergeant Barnes said that Hydra shipped all the parts to another facility that wasn't on the map." As Roger explains this, Daniel shows up behind Peggy and lightly scratches her back. She arches it and gives a low moan, but quickly clears her throat to cover it up. Thankfully no one noticed. She lightly bumps Daniel and he smiles. Steve glances at them, and glares at Sousa as he whispers to Peggy.

"Agent Carter, coordinate with MI6." Colonel Philips says. She and Daniel look at him and follow, so does Steve. "I want every Allie eyeball looking for that main Hydra base."

"What about us?" Carter asks.

"We are going to set a fire under Johann Schmidt's ass." He takes a file from another lady Agent, a blond woman. She looks at Sousa and Rogers and winks. Steve smiles and Daniel looks down and shuffles closer to Peggy; and Peggy glares. "What'd you say, you two. You found the map and wrote it all down. Think you can wipe Hydra off of it?" The two super soldiers glance and each and nod, although Steve is less than enthusiastic. 'It should just be me, not him' He thinks.

"Yes sir, we'll need a team." Rogers says.

"We're already putting together the best men."

"In all due respect, sir, so have we." Steve looks over to Daniel, his brows furrow, then he gets it; the men from the 107th. They nod once more and Daniel walks away to get his things, as he does this Steve looks at Peggy and smiles.

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An SSR Office:

As Daniel Sousa packs away some of his belongings and cleans up some files, Peggy walks in and grabs him from behind.

"Shit!" He turns around and find Peggy laughing hysterically. "Jesus, Peg! You scared the hell outta me." She continues to laugh.

"I"m sorry darling," She rushes up to hug him, but he resists. "Oh is that how you want to play it?" The two continue their playful tiff and grab and tickle the other. He laughs and she squeaks. "Ahh! Daniel!"

"Shhh" he laughs. "Be quiet Peg, someone will hear." Hes flipped her around and picked her up from her back side; and she wasn't expecting it.

"As if I give a damn." She turns around in his arms, snakes her right arm around his neck, and places a kiss on his lips. When they break apart, they laugh once more. "I thought super soldiers had super hearing. Shouldn't you have heard me come in?"

"Yeah...but I wasn't focusing on that. I was busy."

"Well you better work on that," She ruffles his hair and brushes his lips with her thumbs. "You better not die on me, Sousa. I won't allow it." He sits down on a chair, grabs her, and she sits on his lap. They kiss once more and then he speaks.

"I promise, that I will do everything in my power to come back to you. In one piece." She nods her head, and a tear slips out. He wipes it away and says, "I love you, Peggy. That'll never change."

"I love you too." She wraps her arms around him and thats how they stay. Embraced and loved in each others arms, never wanting to let go.

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Later that day:

"Rogers!" Daniel calls out. Steve turns around. "Where are we meeting them?"

"I'm not sure yet. Haven't decided where to-

"Why not at the pub?" Peggy walks up to them.

"Why there?" Daniel asks. She smiles brightly, and so does Steve. Hes captivated by it.

"Because... of you." Daniel looks puzzled. "You were suppose to get your medal, today. But you didn't. As a celebration for bringing those men their freedom and a reward for your hard work, we'll go to a pub. Besides, I think we all deserve a night out after the week we've had,"

"Thats a great idea, Agent Carter."Steve smiles again at her. "A Pub is a-

"Its English for a Bar." Daniel says. Steve looks at him. "What? I've spent over a year and a half interpreting the things shes said." She smiles and lightly shoves him. Steve notices, and gets heated.

"Right, well its still a great idea. Something comfortable that lays low. We could use that. Also its great for covering up the conversation, its loud in bars. People having fun and...dancing" he glances at Peggy. "It shouldn't be conspicuous and -

"Okay, so Pub it is." Daniel says, he could sense Peggy getting frustrated.

When the two super soldiers get there, they order a round of drinks and explain whats going on.

"So lets get this straight-" Dugan starts to say.

"We barely got out of their alive and you want us to go back?"

"Pretty much." Steve says. Daniel nods along

"Sounds rather fun, actually." Another man says.

"I'm in." Another one. Two more begin to speak in french and the man that finished Dugan's sentence translated that were also in. Daniel and Steve exchange a look.

"Hell, I'll always fight. But you two gotta do one thing for me." "ANd whats that?" Daniel asks

"Open a tab," he replies as he downs the rest of his drink. The rest of the group laughs and downs all of theres. Sousa and Rogers get up and get another round.

"Where are they putting all this stuff??" the bartender asks. Daniel laughs and orders more while Steve goes to talk to Barnes. He says he won't follow Captain America, but he'll follow his friend Steve Rogers. As thye continue to talk, there entering at the door, she stands, radiating the entire room. Her dress, a deep red, and a v-neck at the chest. Barnes and Rogers stop and stare at her. And Daniel? He can't help but try to remember how to breath.

"Ma'am" Barnes says, looking at her.

“Wow, Agent Carter. You look-” Steve stops mid sentence and stares at her dress. She clears her throat and brings his attention back to her face, her brow raised in annoyance. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you.” She relies. "Howard, has some equipment for you to and Sousa to try. Tomorrow morning?"

"Sounds good." He replies. He looks her up and down, and she tries to not roll her eyes. She looks for the team they've gathered and sees them all celebrating and drinking; and sees Daniel's jaw to the ground. She smiles.

"I see your top squad is....prepping for duty,"

"You don't like music?" Bucky asks

"I do actually," She turns to answer him."I might even,when this is all over, go dancing." She turns to glance at Daniel, then looks back at the two men in front of her.

"Then what are we waiting for?"Bucky attempts so slyly flirt. She doesn't bate an eye.

"The right partner." She looks at Steve and says, "0800, Captain," and with that, she leaves.Rogers can’t help but smile to himself and think 'Shes the one’. He rushes after her and speaks.

“Uh, Hey. Would you like to dance? With me that is.” He laughs.

“I’m sorry, Captain, but I’m in no mood to dance.” He looks down and nods his head.

“Okay, sure. Another time then.” He smiles at her, and she attempts one in return. She thinks to herself 'this man simply can’t get the message can he?’ Hours go by and everyone is starting to slow down. Steve leaves the pub for some fresh air and when he returns, he stops in his tracks. There in the window, Peggy Carter and Daniel Sousa are slow dancing on the dance floor. His hands are in hers, and their bodies are close together;dancing in a rhythm that no one else could match. Their dance and connection was souly theres. She looks into his eyes and smiles brightly; everything is right in the world. Rogers blood begins to boil at the sight before him. They laugh and smile all the while enjoying this moment in time together; and Steve storms away.

"You look amazing, Peg." He rests his forehead on hers, and she smiles.

"So... you do like the dress?" She looks up at him, and asks nervously.

"I love it. But I hope this wan't meant to impress me." She foriegns a shocked expression.

"Oh good heavens, never." And they laugh. "Why would I need to impress you when I know you're already mine." He brings her closer and whispers in her ear.

"Don't I know it." She holds her arms around his neck as they continue to sway; they dance and dance, until they can’t feel their feet. Daniel leaves the room to use the bathroom, when suddenly Steve appears.

“I thought you said you weren’t 'in the mood’ to dance.” Peggy looks up at him, annoyed.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. I asked you for a dance and you said no.And then you turn around and dance with him?” Peggy takes a deep breath and shakes her head at him.“ We both have the serum. What does he have that I don’t?” At this she whips her head towards him.

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“Yeah, I am. I can do anything he can. What makes him better than me?”

“I think you’ve had far too much to drink, Captain, and its time for you to leave,” She stands up in front of him and ushers him away.

“No. I’m not gonna be sent away like some child.”

“Then don’t act like one."She retorts. He grabs her wrist and looks her in the eye, but shes not looking at him. Shes looking at his hand.

"What am I doing wrong here? Why won’t you give me a chance? That should have been us dancing, not-”

“I don’t know what has gotten into that thick head of yours, but if you do not release me this instant, I will not hesitate to use brute force. Serum or not, I can and will put you in your place. Now Let. Me. Go.”

“I’m not drunk. We can’t get drunk.”

“Then you’re a natural imbecile.”

“What!? All I want is a dance, instead you turn your back on me with him.” Now she is in complete shock.

“Yon need to reevaluate your stance with me, Rogers, because it seems to me you don’t know your place.”

“My place? I just want a chance and you-”

“So you’ve said. But I’m not interested. What part of that do you not understand.” She starts to walk away, and he grabs her arm once more. She twists around and lands a painful punch right to his temple, and then hes down.

“Don’t you dare come near me again.”

“Peggy? Whats going on?” Daniel reaches the scene just in time to find Steve Rogers holding his head while sitting on the floor.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” She smiles at him and takes his hand. As they walk away, Rogers glares. Soldiers near by glance at his direction and then turn away at his angry face. "Steve! Are you okay?" Barnes asks.

"I'm fine, Buck. Just fine." He gets up and leaves.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Next Morning:

"But Daniel-" She runs up to him again and kisses his cheek. "Why?"

"Because, Peg. Its work. I have to meet Philips before he talks to Stark. God only knows how long those to will be in a meeting." She groans and he leans down and embraces her. "Look we'll go out tonight, just us. I promise. No more Steve Rogers or SSR business." She glares at him.

"I have every right to be angry with him." She defends and crosses her arms.

"I know you do, and hes an idiot for thinking he had any say in us. Not that he knows there is an us-

"Because if anyone were to 'officially know'....

"Then we'd get charged and dismissed from the army." Daniel finishes. Peggy looks down and hold his jacket around her. "I'm gonna need that." She looks at him and smirks.

"You just want to see whats underneath..." she teases. "Well, whats not anyway." He laughs and gives her her clothes. "Ugh!"

"C'mon love, I have to go." She grumbles and takes it off. As he rakes his eyes over her body, she smirks.

"Like what you see, Captain Sousa?"

"Love what I see." He leans in for one last kiss and leaves.As he makes his way through the bunker he runs into the blonde Agent from yesterday. When she notices him, she perks up. "Hey, excuse me? Do you know where Colonel Philips is? I have a meeting with him and... I have no idea where he is."

"Uh... yeah, sure."She stands up."He should be in his office preparing for his meeting with Stark." She walks closer to him. Daniel nods and starts to walk away, but she stops him. He looks at her hand and then at her.

"Uhm... Can I help you?"

"I read about what you did. You saved almost 400 men." She advances him into a corner. "That was extremely brave of you and -"

"Look. Stop. Okay?" He grabs her hand, takes it off of him, and steps back. "I'm not interested in....whatever this is. I have my eyes on someone else, so this? Isn't happening." She looks down and backs off.

"My apologies, I didn't realize. She must be real special to you."

"She is." He smiles at the though of Peggy. "If you'll excuse me." Daniel leaves the room and goes to speak with Philips.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

SSR Bunker:

There in the lab, Howard Stark begins to analyze a part of the tesseract. When Sousa and the 107th took over Red skulls base, they stole some of Hydras weapons. A small glowing blue shard is picked up by needle like robot hands.

"Emission signature is unusual. Alpha and bat ray neutral." He squints through the glass. "Seems harmless enough. Hard to see what all the fuss is about." But as he says this and maneuvers another needle to touch it, theres an explosion and Stark is blown across the room. "Write that down."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Captain Rogers stands in the room, looking for Stark, the blonde Agent, once again, makes her appearance. Shes sitting in a chair, re-reading the article of the rescue of the 400 soldiers in Europe.

"Excuse me," Rogers says, "I'm looking for Mr. Stark."

"Hes in with Colonel Philips." She says, not looking up from her paper. Once she does, she does a double back and realizes its Steve Rogers; The Captain America the public adores."Of, course you're welcome to wait." He smiles and nods his head as he leans against the table. "I,uh, read about what you did. "

"Oh the....Yeah." He says. Although the paper doesn't tell everything, not that it meantions the real Captain America, but it does mention the one everyone knows."Well, thats...uh, just doing what needed to be done."

"Sounded like more than that. You helped save those soldiers, nearly 400 men." The two stare at each other, and the silence is filled with awkward, yet flirty energy.

"Really its not a big deal."She gets out of her chair.

"Tell that to their wives," she says as she approaches him. He syas he doesn't think they were all married, but shes insistent on calling him a hero. If shes not going to get to one super soldier, shes going to get to another."the women of America owe you their thanks," She pulls on his tie and leads him into a corner. "And, uh, seeing as they're not here..." She places a kiss on Steve's lips, and he doesn't stop her. He places his hands on her waist as she lifts her arms over his neck...

"Captain! We're ready for you. If you're not other wise occupied.." Peggy says, and then storms away. 'What kind of man flirts with a woman and insists on a chance to be with her, then turns around and snogs another woman?' Peggy thinks.

"Agent Carter, wait." Daniel looks up and sees Peggy and her angry walk. 'Uh oh' he thinks. He walks towards them and hears Rogers and her speaking.

"Looks like finding a partner wasn't hard after all. And yet you insisted it be me, then now its her. Should we expect another woman to be it as well?"Peggy is disgusted at the arrogance of this man. She was never interested, but its the idea of what hes done.

"Peggy, thats not what you thought it was." Her skin starts to boil as he says her name. Shes never given him permission or any familiarity to use it.

"I don't think anything, 'Captain.' Not one thing." She continues walking and spots Daniel. "You always wanted to be a soldier and now you are. Just like all the rest; well most of them." She looks at Daniel, and she can see the concern and weariness in his eyes; she knows that he knows she pissed off.

"Well what about you and Stark? Or hell, Sousa for that matter?" She stops walking and turns to face him. "How do I know you two haven't been...fondue-ing? Or maybe your with both of them. "Her face drops and her eyes widen, and Daniel stops walking with a deadly glare on his face."I guess that explains why you got to go to Europe. So you could be with them."

"I beg your pardon" She starts to laugh. Daniel know what that means; shes in for the kill. "What is it you just said?"

"You heard me." She walks over to him. "How do I know you haven't been with Stark or Sousa. Maybe even both!"Now Daniel's fuming. He starts to storm over to Rogers, then... Bam! Peggy punches him in the eye. At first hes taken back and looks at her shocked. In his vulnerability she hits him again, and again, and again; and once in the balls for good measure. "Ahhh!" He falls down on his knees one hand on the ground for support, the other covers his man hood.

"You don't know a bloody thing about me, or about woman." Daniel stops mid step. "I suggest you educate yourself MR. Rogers." She storms towards Daniel and drags him with her out of the room. As they leave, everyone in the office is shocked; and no one moves out of fear.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that day:

"Fondue is just cheese and bread, my friend,"Howard explains

"Really? I didn't think..."

"Nor should you, pal." The two of them walk into an engineering room. "The moment you think you know whats going on in a woman's head, is the moment your goose is well and truly cooked." They start to browse the room. "Me, I concentrate on work, which at the moment is about making sure your ans Sousa's men do not get killed." They go over protective vests and shields. Steve finds the vibranium one under the table. There was only enough vibranium to make two; Sousa has the first, but Stark doesn't want the second used. He tells Steve about the rarity and that its stronger than steel and a third the weight. Of course because thats all they have, its not standard issue. Agent Carter and Captain Sousa walk into the room. He goes over to talk to another mechanic about his gun, while Peggy talks to Howard.\

"You quite finished, Mr. Stark? I'm sure the 'Captain' has some unfinished business..." Daniel glances up at them and shakes his head. Peggy looks at him and nods. They've talked about it and hes calmed her down as much as he could; but the sour venom of Rogers words still linger in her mind.

"What do you think?" He smiles and asks; as if nothing happened this morning. 'Arrogant pig', she thinks. With an opportunity like this, she just can't pass it up. She looks at the shield covering him, then at the guns, and smirks. Carter lifts it and shoots off four shots, one 'accidentally' nicks him in the ear.

"Ow!" He holds his ear and notices blood. Steve looks at Peggy as she speaks.

"Yes. I think it works." She storms out of the room as Daniel tries not to laugh; hes not successful. A small chuckle gets out, and all eyes are on him. He clears his throat and looks away. Rogers walks up to Stark, who, like everyone else in the room, was ducking for cover. He hands him an idea for his suit.

"Sure thing, pal" He takes the paper, and they watch her leave.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2 weeks later:

The soldiers have packed everything they need for the long months ahead of them. The Captain's suits have been made; both Sousa and Rogers. The Commandos, as they later call themselves, have been prepped and prepared for the biggest mission of the SSR; take down Hydra.

"Daniel...please."

"I know, Peg. I will, I promise." The two lovers embrace in a long tight goodbye. She reaches for a kiss and he returns it. For a moment it seems like the world is perfectly fine, and doesn't need any one to fight and sacrifice their lives.

"Go, or you'll be late." she turns her face away.

"Hey.." he holds her face in his hands and wipes away her tears. "It'll take the end of the entire world to stop me from coming back to you. And even then I'd fight like hell. Nothing will stop me from coming back, Peggy. I'm in this with you till the end...okay?"

"Until the end...may it come later rather than sooner." He laughs and holds her tight.

"Sousa! You ready?" Barnes calls out.

"Yeah, one minute!" Daniel tuns to Peggy and places one last kiss on her lips.

"I love you"

"I love you too," she says as she watches him leave... "Always and forever, Daniel."

#peggysous #peggy carter #daniel sousa #Peggy x Daniel #agent carter #au fanfic #fanfiction #anti steggy #anti steve rogers #catfa

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leftenantsparkles · 5 years

Text

and we kissed (as though nothing could fall)

Summary : James Barnes went to war. He lived it—survived with all his limbs intact and his heart still beating… But Bucky never came home. [ao3]

Pairing : Bucky x Femme!Reader ; background Bucky x Reader x Steve

Rating & Warnings : Rated M for canon typical violence, fanon typical language, and intrusive thoughts. Buckle up for a little smut, a lot of angst, and some smutty angst. 18+

Notes : This a meditation on grief and memory that I wrote for the incomparable @youngmoneymilla’s 5K challenge. I also wanted to write some Jewish!Bucky, so I’m pretty hyped with how this turned out. I hope you enjoy and a big congratulations to Eliza for this well deserved milestone!!

Prompt : Oh, we can beat them, forever and ever // Then we can be heroes just for one day Heroes // Gangs of Youth

Word Count : 7060

It plays in his head like a night at the pictures back in the day—twenty five cents a head, if you can believe that. The shadow looming inside the ticket booth greedily takes the coin as the door parts moments later.

He’s not even sure how he finds his seat. All he knows is that he’s out of the cold.

When the film reel whirs to life, he can’t imagine how he could’ve gotten it more wrong.

Bucky can feel the biting chill as he watches the Howling Commandos wait for their train, his eyes narrowing on the cable meant to carry them all across.

“Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?”

Steve follows his gaze. “Yeah, and I threw up?”

“This isn’t payback, is it?”

“Now why would I do that?”

Phantom voyeurs jeer in anticipation beside him. All he can do is sit there with them in silent agony, same as he has every other night. He’s locked in the memory… there’s no changing it now.

You come onto the scene with worry on your brow and a curse under your breath.

Even exhausted in a war zone, you’re the prettiest thing he’s seen. Your hair is a mess, already spilling out of the pins you’d only just put in that morning.

“Need some help with that, Agent Sunshine?”

You look to him, momentarily distracted from your panic. “What’s that?”

He nods at your hair and you sigh. The ghost of a smile catches as you fish the errant pins out.

“All this damn hair’s a menace,” you tell him pointedly, handing them over. “You boys are lucky like that.”

“C’mon on, doll. You an’ I both know if you cut it all off today, you’d be hard pressed to find somethin’ else better to whine about tomorrow.”

A shrug. “Well you’re not wrong…”

Turning away from that smug face, you catch a glimpse of Steve and Gabe on the radio sifting through static. Every uttered sound out of that thing put you on edge… It made your skin burn and your throat close up.

He pulls you from wreckage of your mind, those deft fingers working you over. Teasing you. Healing you.

“There’s no shame in sittin’ tight, you know.” His voice is low in your ear—his words just for you. “We’ll be quick. In an’ out. You won’t even have time to miss us.”

He concentrates his efforts on pinning down your locks. The silence is forgiving as he gives you the space you need to collect yourself.

“Who said anything about missin’ you?”

His eyes wrinkle a touch as he beams down on you. All the affection and hope someone ought to feel for another person… There was a time you thought you could drown in it.

This is the last time he would see you alive. He’s watching you like he doesn’t know.

“I’m serious. Stevie an’ me…”

He trails off when the warmth of your palm blooms over his cheek. You surprise him, turning before your time with a playful roll of your eyes.

“You boys ain’t never been quick a day in your life.”

He leans into your touch, a sharp inhale filling his lungs.

“Ain’t no shame in it,” you agree with a solemn nod. “But walkin’ away from a fight? Not my style, Sergeant.”

He holds you there with him for a beat, lacing his fingers with yours.

He turns your hand in his own and kisses it so tenderly…

And before he can blink, the moment’s gone.

Steve’s passing off T-bars to everyone, laying down parameters of the mission.

“Alright, this is a very short—very fast train. We’ve got a ten second window, tops. Mistime it, you’re a bug on the windshield.”

Dugan raises his watch and taps the face. “Better move it, bugs.”

Bucky scratches at the wooden arm on the seat, his shaking fingers begging for purchase as he watches you disappear down the cable after him…

He watches you board, watches those bastards get the jump on you.

He’s helpless as a hole is blown out the side of the train. You pull him to safety, shoving him from the danger.

He watches you fall.

He watches his lips wrap around your name as he screams for you to come back to him…

He wakes on his own, throat still aching over forty years later.

On the nights Bucky can’t sleep, he’s in the lab. It beats just laying there. Staring at the ceiling and praying things are gonna be different by the morning doesn’t do it for him anymore.

He comes here to use his hands—to think. There’s a sterile tranquility when he gets his groove going. So when he’s got some company in there with him, he knows it.

“What are you doin’ home, kid?”

“I could ask you the same, you know.”

The younger Stark pushes off of the door he’s leaning against, coming closer to inspect his Godfather’s handiwork. His voice moves around the lab in what feels like an endless stream of questions.

Was it another one… How bad was it tonight… Is there anything I can do…

It’s not right and he knows it’s not fair… but every lingering syllable is an itch under his skin. He just wants to be left to his own devices so he can scratch himself raw.

Bucky’s eyes narrow on the wire transfer he’s got going on as he tenses over his workspace.

“Really not a good time, son,” he warns. “I’m sorry… Just not the best for company.”

Tony sighs, more than a little disappointed. “Whatever you say, Howard.”

He takes a breath. Bait or no, that shit smarts.

And the poor kid almost looks guilty. Hopping off the bench, he shuffles out of the lab. Bucky stops him before he can get too far, though. He doesn’t even have to get up to do it.

“Your old man ever tell you about Azzano?”

“Azzano…” he echoes. “Italy, right?”

Bucky nods, attentions back on his project.

“During the war?” Tony asks tentatively.

“They ran experiments on me—pumped me full of… fuck if I know, somethin’ else.” He shrugs, “I mean, it sure as shit wasn’t what Erskine had gone and gave Sonny an’ Steve.”

Tony’s quiet for a beat, brows furrowed trying to make sense of the unfathomable. “Then what happened?”

“Steve happened. He brought us home.”

Moments pass in silence. Just a man and his tools clashing with metal, tiny sparks flying contained.

It’s a good while before either moves to break it.

“Dad only ever really talks about him when he’s been drinking… Sometimes he’ll namedrop if I’ve been an extra disappointment.” Tony looks down at his shoes, kicking at some lint on the floor. “Then Aunt Peggy’s out because I refuse to make her cry again.”

“Why not just come to me?” Bucky tries to hide the hurt in his words. “Not enough of a leading expert for you, Mr. Stark?”

“I don’t know… Deductive reasoning?” he asks rhetorically, almost contrite. “Figured you didn’t want to talk if you can’t even tell me what’s eating you up at night.”

Shit.

He puts down his tools and peels his gloves off in an inelegant snap. Bucky gestures for him to sit so he does, scrubbing across his face.

“You’re not gonna find any of this in the history books, alright? So don’t go runnin’ your mouth to impress some so and so.”

“Lay it on me,” Tony challenges.

“What do you want to know?”

“What happened?” He doesn’t even miss a beat. “Why did he crash the plane?”

Bucky’s eyes shoot to the ceiling, a little laugh on his breath. Tony frowns.

“You don’t have to talk if it’s too painful.”

“No, no. You stop that,” he waves him off. “This is what they call a teachable moment, right?”

“So what happened?” he says again.

“When Steve went down… Man alive, Tones. I can tell you, I’ve never been more angry at another living soul.” He scratches at his jaw, shaking his head. “So he’s on the comms, hollerin’ out the words he knows are gonna be his last—some shit, like he didn’t have a choice?”

He was hurt and tired and so, so furious. He just wanted to take him home and leave the war behind… Maybe take him over his knee for scaring him so bad, but he never got the chance.

Steve had to play the hero and save everyone.

—C’mon, Stevie… I just lost my best gal. You really gonna make me go at this all alone over you, too?

Bucky looks at his hands, hoping for answers—begging for release. These hands of his that could’ve done more for the people he loved.

“We were partners,” he says, devastated. “If he had a deathwish, he should ah’ told me. But he just—he left before I could have a say… He died alone when I could ah’ been right there with him. How is that right?”

“No.” His voice is thick and Tony has to shake his head. “It’s not.”

His gaze returns to the boy, remembering who this was all for.

“There’s always a choice, Tony. Don’t you forget that.”

After the war, he doesn’t leave service… Not right away.

He was tired. He just wanted to go home and see his Ma, have a good cry… But there was still work to be done.

He toured with the Commandos some, but it was never the same. They knew it. He knew it. But they got the job done—that was all that mattered.

No one acknowledged that a quarter of their team was missing in action.

No one breathed a word about their hopes or their fears—all of them united by trauma, but forever alone to it…

No one talked about the fact that Bucky had barely aged a minute since V-E Day.

Then came the day they couldn’t hide it anymore. The day the Commandos retired.

It was at a pub in London that they had their long goodbyes. He remembers the night so vividly, their glasses raised high as they toasted eulogy after eulogy… Didn’t make a lick of difference to anyone how much time had passed. Memories flowed in tandem with the booze in their glasses.

Time had made superstitious men of them all. They didn’t want to chance bringing anything more than their wrinkles and pains home with them.

“For Cap… Cap and Sunshine,” Dugan starts off. “For getting all of us sorry bastards into this mess all those fuckin’ years ago.”

Echoed sentiments erupt across the table.

“To Cap and Sunshine.”

And for the first time since you died, he felt like he could breathe… Like he didn’t just dream you up and lose you in the night.

Steve was real. You were real. He had loved you… You and Steve, Steve and you… Bucky loved you both.

Sometime’s you gotta take the loss with all that love. And it hurts.

But he couldn’t bare part with you.

If his choices were suffering while remembering and moving on without you or Steve, he’d choose you every time. There were times the pain was so bad it was almost blinding. But he needs those reminders. He needs to know that it really happened, that it was real.

And it was. What you had together was real.

They all went home to their wives and mothers—shame buried on the other side of the war, heavy embraces slung around the necks of their brothers in arms.

He went home and kissed his Ma. He had that cry. And for a while, he was done… There’s a part of him that knows it was never going to last.

Peggy sought him out, offered him a position at the organization she built from the ground up.

She brought out her sales pitch. She called him James and told him it’s what you would have wanted—but he doesn’t even know if that’s true. You’d been gone so long, the years apart far outweighed your time together. He doesn’t know what you would have wanted.

He still jumped at the opportunity with such an urgency to leave.

Before SHIELD came to collect him, he was living in a purgatory of his own making. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder for the ghosts in his head. Not when his life expectancy was so up in the air.

With nowhere else to go and no better reason to say no, Bucky paired off with Howard for a minute. He lived in his guest room, worked in his lab… He put as much distance between himself and Brooklyn as he could stomach.

And it was good for a time. That is, until Howard found himself in the family way.

It’s an amicable separation. He was even able to maintain lab access with 60% of profits off any future patents. So, you know, not too shabby for a shayna punim from The Borough.

Between grad school and work, he kept himself fairly busy through the sixties and seventies. By the time the eighties rolled around, the money was so good he got himself a studio in DC so he might live out his sleepless nights in some semblance of comfort…

They send him where there’s a need for his skill set. He doesn’t go digging. He doesn’t ask questions. Bucky can only keep his head down and pray for world peace when praying for rest might just be too tall of an order.

The dream starts the same as any other. He pays the toll. He finds his seat. But when the film comes alive, it’s a far cry from the bitter cold of the Alps.

The scene laid before him is soft and so damn warm… The room is flush with the pastels of a Parisian hotel ravaged by time and circumstance. Building’s probably just as gone as everything else, he expects.

His breath catches as you slowly fade into view—tangled in silk sheets, limbs akimbo with lips smeared red and bruised by kisses. It’s a sight he thought he’d have to die to see again.

There’s an old record on in the background. The needle crackles as one song bleeds into the next, but he knows it’s not quite right. You look on with a lazy sort of hunger, almost breaking the fourth wall with him…

You hum softly as you watch him, watching you.

Non, rien de rien, non, je ne regrette rien…

Bucky watches a gentle touch trace the slope of Steve’s nose as he sketches you both on the bed. His fingers. His touch.

…Ni le bien qu’on m’a fait, ni le mal… Tout ça m’est bien égal…

Without even thinking, his legs are moving of their own accord. The seat snaps shut behind him as he makes his way towards the screen… He’s all too desperate to bridge the gap that separates you.

…Non, rien de rien, non, je ne regrette rien…

He watches himself kiss a trail down the column of your neck, staining your skin something filthy with whatever shade of lipstick he stole from you. When he finally disappears under the blanket, you arch into his touch. Your brows are knit as you palm the sheets in search of purchase.

…C’est payé, balayé, oublié, je me fous du passé…

Bucky’s hand spreads against the wall of screen, the fragmented projection washing his skin with yours.

…Avec mes souvenirs j’ai allumé le feu… Mes chagrins, mes plaisirs…

He wants more than a wash—what he needs is a damn soak… With all the red on his ledger, he could easily drown himself in the sight of you just to feel clean.

…Je n’ai plus besoin d’eux… Balayé les amours avec leurs trémolos…

He rests his head on the wall. His eyes fall shut against the sounds of the three of you together after so long… A merciful lullaby. A soft epilogue.

…Balayé pour toujours… Je reparts à zéro…

He wakes mid-flight, somewhere over the Adriatic Sea. The year, 1989.

You feel closer today than you did yesterday. But there’s a mission on and he can’t afford to think about it just yet.

If he wavers, he dies.

He’s been tracking a top ranking assassin for years now with next to no leads. Bucky has yet to see him in the wild. Some dispute their very existence.

Up until recently, the intelligence community’s been keeping mum on the subject. Months of radio silence.

It started small, just a murmur at first. Then it picked up traction on the underground servers. Hardly a hit on the guy, but it’s enough to tip SHIELD off.

His flight’s en route to Berlin. What they’ve got is a source going into witness protection in exchange for information. Simple extraction, in and out. No time to get in his head about this.

Bucky won’t stop until he’s silenced the fist of HYDRA.

He digs a carton of Whitehorse and a lighter from his pocket—

And maybe the thought should scare him… the desire to end a human being. It should bother him.

—he lights up, really breathes it in. His shoulders drop the slightest amount as he shuts his eyes on the exhale.

Should.

The illusive fucker he’s been after might not have been the one to end your life, but they were sure as shit about to return the favor.

If he dies in the process, that’s just as well. He wants to be with you. With Steve. A good rest never hurt anyone.

He looks out the window with another drag in his lungs. However the lampshade swings, events are already set in motion. There’s nothing he can do now but wait and see.

Bucky clocks his witness from outside the restaurant. She sits on a stool at the bar, hunched over her drink as she keeps to herself.

It’s a slow night, almost dead. There’s no one around to bother her. Still, the girl’s clever enough to speak out… She’s gotta know there’s a target on her back.

So he pops his collar and lowers his shades, heading inside. He nods at the bartender, already fixing him up with a shot. Bucky hands him a fist of cash for the drink and his discretion. He’s been with SHIELD for some time now, he’s good people.

Taking a seat two stools over, he keeps his eyes forward.

He doesn’t say a word until they’re alone.

“Wunderbares wetter heute.”

[Wonderful weather today.]

This is the point where she would give him the go ahead… She’s no spy, but she’s hardly a civilian either. It’s one of the simpler codes on the memory…

But still, she says nothing.

“Ich kenne… Es ist nicht so toll,” he offers apologetically. “Das Letzte, was ich tun möchte, ist, deine Muttersprache zu schlachten.”

[I know, it’s not great—the last thing I want to do is butcher your mother tongue.]

Silence.

“Wenn es sich nicht um eine Zumutung handelt, ich könnte Englisch sprechen, wenn Sie lieber.”

[If it’s not an imposition, I could speak English if you prefer.]

Eyes fixed beyond the bar, he makes out a lull of her head from his periphery. It’s the most she’s given him since he sat down.

Definitely a start towards building trust.

“I know you’re probably scared,” he says under his breath, lifting the glass to his lips. “Hell. I’ve been there, myself.”

He downs his drink. Winces a touch.

“But you work with me here? I swear to you—together? We will work this out.”

He sets his glass facedown with a firm tap.

It hits him like a ton of bricks when he spots her virgin shot seated shoulder to shoulder with his own.

Her glass has been full all along.

He turns slowly, reluctant to look on the dead woman beside him.

“Shit,” Bucky sighs. He beats his palm against the top of the bar… “Shit!”

That’s where her fingers rest, idle as the rest of her. Defensive wounds sheath her knuckles like a pair of lace gloves.

Bucky runs a hand through his hair, just wanting some goddamn peace for a change.

“Fuckin’ fuck,” he hisses.

Her eyes are heavy lidded and locked on nothing. He closes them with a shaking touch, wishing he could have done more for the woman.

He hangs his head. “I’m so sorry…”

There’s a moment.

And then… bam.

She’s spread across the bar with a bullet in her before he can even think what to do with the body.

Fuckin’ sniper.

He stands at attention. He follows the direction of the shot—past the shattered glass, over the neighboring businesses. Another lands by his feet and this time, he’s prepared.

He spots the fucker on the roof, reloading their gun. They wisp from one spot to the next, donning a sexless uniform in head to toe black. There’s a silver glint where their other sleeve should be.

Bucky tucks inside an alley and jumps to the fire escape. Up and up and up, and he’s finally able to make sense of it. He crouches low, watching the figure slip through a door on a rooftop two buildings over.

He takes off running after them. Screams from below hit his ears as attention draws to the scene he’d just abandoned.

Once the buildings are cleared, he has to catch his breath before passing through the door—he draws his side piece, swings it open.

It’s a long hallway with doors lining either side and he has to strain to hear it. Faint sounds in the distance, something metallic… footsteps rushing down stairs, three at a time, maybe four… He finds the door leading to the stairwell and gives into the chase.

Down, down, down, ‘til he reaches the bottom.

When he opens the door, he’s met with a gun trained on him and it’s only reflex that has him tossing his gun to disarm them… He’s wanting in time and patience at the moment—ain’t enough going around to spare on a goddamn standoff.

Bucky pushes his assailant until their back meets the wall with a grunt. They kick his chest, he catches their calf and shoves them a beat harsher than before.

He moves to rid them of the balaclava masking their identity. But they double down, blocking his arm away in a sweeping motion… knocks their heads heads together, too. But Bucky catches on quick, pulling on a generous amount of exposed hair.

A whine—sharp and feminine. The sound pierces his ears like a freezing tub of water on a cold winter’s night.

He uses this window to take the mask. He rips it clean off.

She turns… His face falls… Time slows—

“Sunshine?”

“Who the hell is Sunshine?”

—and he chokes.

You raise your metal fist and flex it around the target’s throat, neutralizing the threat.

“Who the hell is Sunshine?”

His response is a garbled mess of broken syllables and dangerous looks.

You back him into the rod at the center of the boiler room you’ve found yourselves in. You could have moved him with your flesh hand with what little resistance he was showing you.

Fuck it. This intel might just prove to be useful.

You release your hold on him.

“Answer me, American,” you order him.

“American?” He coughs out, touching at his neck. “You were born in Chicago, you big asshole!”

“I have no business in Chicago.”

He’s rendered slack against the pole.

“Fuckin’ A,” he nods in realization. “So I’m gone, too. Is that it?”

“Don’t make me hurt you, American.”

His face twists in anguish.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes. You know me.”

You slap him. “No. I don’t.”

“The fuck did they do to you?” his voice is so small, you wonder if he knows he spoke the words out loud. “Sunshine—”

—Need some help with that, Agent Sunshine?

You grimace. “Don’t call me that.”

“It’s what I’ll call you ‘til the sun goes dim and the sky turns black.” He looks up at you, his eyes defeated. He swallows. “It’s your name.”

“Stop it,” you warn him.

When he looks as though he’s about to advance on you, you push him back against the pole. You step away, desperate to put some distance between the two of you.

“Sonny, please. This isn’t you.”

Your fist slows his approach, but he just keeps coming for you. You need to shut him up.

Shutting your ears to the noise, you shake your head. “You don’t know me.”

“We can beat this.” He grinds his words with mortar and pestle—it’s a desperate plea on his tongue with emotion you don’t give yourself permission to name. “We can beat them.”

An animalistic scream wretches its way out of you, your eyes hot and itching as you rage at him. You throw yourself onto the target, locking him in place with your thighs.

You strike him. Again and again and again, until you’re both leveled. And he lets you do it, he lets you hurt him.

Something twists inside you. He won’t last much more of this. You’re sure he’s thinking the same.

“Fight back…”

And still, he refuses you.

He aches to touch you. That much is obvious. Even as his body bleeds by your hand, it’s all he wants just to have you here with him.

You don’t understand him, this man at your mercy.

You don’t even know him… You’re sure it’s only his face you’ve seen before and it’s barely that. His hair is longer than the man from your dreams. He looks battle worn… Lost.

Nothing like the charming soldier who stole your heart when you had your wits about you… Your head’s pumped full of code and strategy as the serum corrodes your veins, but you know this man. You know his eyes.

Try as they might, they could never burn them out of you.

Blood mars his mouth and cheeks as he lies on the ground. He watches you on his back, looking at you like you meant something to him… like you mean everything.

You find yourself drawn to those pouting lips, wanting nothing more than to abandon the mission and get some answers out of them.

That’s when you hear it.

…Quand il me prend dans ses bras… Il me parle tout bas… Je vois la vie en rose…

Visions of this man invade your senses as music plays from a distant memory, not made for you.

…Il me dit des mots d’amour… Des mots de tous les jours… Et ça me fait quelque chose…

His tongue is inside you as another man holds you in check. This man, blond hair with faraway eyes, wipes the sweat from your brow, whispering filthy nothings in your ear. He holds his head against your own as you chase your release.

…Il est entré dans mon cœur… Une part de bonheur… Dont je connais la cause…

Your charming soldier emerges from between your legs, so smug. He drags the back of his hand across his face, smearing his stained lips even further.

…C’est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie… Il me l’a dit, l’a juré pour la vie…

You flush as you come back to yourself.

Is that what these are—

—what they’ve been?

Overcome, you pull back from the blow… Your metal arm leaves behind a crater in the naked slab of concrete where his head would be if you weren’t so weak.

Your flesh fingers curl around his bruised face, forcing him to meet your eyes. You narrow your gaze on him, fury and shame building up inside of you. “Stay the fuck out of my head…”

“Oh, Sonny.” He frowns. “Not me… ‘M not the one in your head.”

You sink down onto his chest, head resting uncomfortably on his tac vest. Your training takes over when you feel fingers at the small of your back and you’ve got his wrists pinned, seconds later.

There’s a charged beat between these bodies, the pair of you a panting mess.

“So what’s it gonna be?”

Your head tilts to the side in silent curiosity.

He breathes into his aches and pains and he’s almost smiling at you. “Still wanna kill me, doll?”

You shut your eyes, worrying at your mouth. You can’t concentrate when you know he is who he says he is.

“Still weighing my options,” you fire back.

A pained nod. “How’s it lookin’ on my end?”

You can’t concentrate when you still don’t know… When you know enough to know his eyes, but can’t place the rest of him.

You roll your hips over him like it’s an answer… You’ll tell yourself all sorts of lies later about centering yourselfand gaining control of the situation.

Чушь собачья.

[Bullshit.]

He betrays the mission, same as you… Betrays his countrymen, same as you.

But at the end of the day, you’re the one on top of him.

You work him over because you want to.

You fuck him because you want to watch him come apart—

—sleep with him because you want to dream…

And when the night is through, you leave him bloody and broken outside the remote home of a civilian doctor because you’re not ready for this to be over.

The sounds of a German broadcast tickle his ears as he comes to. Bucky doesn’t open his eyes just yet. It’s all he can do to lie there, focused solely on his breath, repeating his mantra over and over.

…To die, to sleep—to sleep, perchance to dream, for in this sleep of death what dreams may come…

He slept like the dead. Nights like these are even worse than the times he’s powerless to save you. A night without you is a day without the sun.

“I know you’re awake.”

It’s a voice that puts ice in his veins and a heat in his chest.

You’re on the chair, sat beside the bed in a flannel top that doesn’t fit you right. Your hair is short—shorter than he’s ever seen it, resting just below your chin. You’ve got a split in your lip and a bruised look in those eyes focused intently on him.

All this on, and you’re absolutely gorgeous.

“Last time I saw you, you threatened to cut it all off.”

Self consciously, your fingers go to your hair. He’s so sore, every move is working against him. His hand meets yours and he’s so, so gentle.

“It suits you,” he says.

“I don’t remember,” you admit softly.

He pulls back with a sigh. “That’s ‘cause it hasn’t happened yet.”

You watch him, so confused.

“What are you talking about?” you ask him carefully.

“This.” He gestures around the room, so tired he lets his eyes fall shut. He scrubs a hand across his face as he struggles to find the words. “The dream.”

You’re stunned to silence.

“This is a good one, y’know… Can’t say I’ve had this much free range before. Not this side of the century, at least.”

“This isn’t a dream.”

He has to laugh at that. Otherwise he’s gonna make himself sick later with liquor and tears. “Says the spider to the fly…”

“You think I’m lying,” you say, almost hurt. You know you’ve no rights to his trust. Doesn’t stop those stabbing pains from gutting you from the inside out.

“Can you tell me I’m asleep right now?”

You shake your head fiercely. “No.”

“Then yes.”

There’s a huff on your breath as you push up from the chair to pace around the room.

“Unless what you’re saying is true and I’m not sleeping…” he starts.

“You’re not.”

His face falls. His head sinks back onto the pillow, resigned as he stares at the ceiling. If this is his Hell, he’s gonna at least make himself nice and comfortable.

“So I’m dead, then.”

He wants so badly, so desperately, for this to be real. But if it’s real… that means he’s gotta take it all with him.

Last night.

The mission.

The fucking train.

If this is real, that means he left you. He left you in the cold, bleeding and dying, waiting for some fucker to pick you up and make you a human weapon.

He left you when he could have saved you.

So, yeah… He’s good with being dead for now and it’s a blessing when you don’t argue.

You’ve got your arm crossed over your chest as you stare out the window. It’s the first time he gives himself permission to look. You’re not wearing it now, but he knows it won’t be long before you put the arm back on. It looked so heavy when he saw it up close—felt heavy when it was beating his face in.

Bucky has spent so long praying you back to life. He went back to Temple every Friday for you and Steve, both. He said your names. So many times, in so many words…

But he never wanted this for you.

“Who was she?”

The question pulls Bucky from his reverie. Those three little words dry his throat and force him out of the delusion.

“You called me Sunshine. Who was she?”

He’s not ready… but Steve would have his hide to make you wait so selfish like this. You’ve suffered enough.

A number of shaking breaths later and he’s finally talking.

“I’m a lot older than I look, same as you. I went to war. And Stevie…” God, where to start with Steve. “Well, he wanted it, too. He needed to be with the fight. That I’d ah’ been there with him was a happy accident. Kismet, y’know? The army needed bodies but they just weren’t taking him. And it’s not just that he was small, which he was.”

Bucky smiles remembering his little love… then he looks at you, remembers that you can’t. And then he wants to cry all over again. He doesn’t. Just a little sniffle and the clear of his throat because this is what you need from him right now.

“But he had health problems, y’know? Probably would ah’ taken a shorter list to write up what wasn’t wrong with him. So they said no. Figured he’d ah’ been more trouble than he was worth.”

“Then what happened?”

“He’s a persistent little shit’s what happened. Got himself in too deep with some government types, and they made him big,” he says like that’s a thing that happens to people. “You were the agent assigned to his case. The SSR gave you the last of the serum before they sent you in to keep tabs on him, paradin’ you around as a USO girl.”

It’s quiet for a beat. And then you laugh.

“I can’t even dance,” you simper, more than amused by the idea of yourself in those little outfits singing about freedom.

“Can’t claim to have seen you in action, doll. ‘M afraid that was before my time.”

“And when was that?”

“When Steve saved me. You both had a nasty habit of doing that.”

You don’t understand his words. Just last night, you were trying to end him… But there’s that name again and curiosity wins out, clawing at your throat like a mad dog for scraps.

“Is he the other man?” you ask, incredulous. “The man from my dreams?”

“Depends.” He shrugs on the bed, scratching at the shadow on his jaw. “What sort ah’ dreams you been cookin’ up in that head of yours?”

You stall, feeling a surge of insecurity. You hate how vulnerable this man makes you feel.

“Did you ever take me to Paris?”

Hand in his hair, he looks you over as your face starts to heat. It’s a long while before he speaks. When he does, you almost regret saying anything at all.

Almost.

“See, I wasn’t sure last night. But now I know you’re trying to kill me.” He lays his head back on the pillow, spent.

“What were we?”

“We were together.” His voice breaks on the word. “We were in love…”

You shake your head. “That’s not me. I’m not that girl anymore.”

He frowns, mood effectively sobered for the day.

“No.” In that moment, he looks so sad for you. “Not anymore.”

The radio clamors for his attentions again and he nods at the next room over. “They talking about us in there?”

Your lips twitch as you cross the room. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Seriously,” he presses. “It’s not like we have a mutually exclusive extraction plan here. They gotta have Commie APB after us. Why are we sitting ducks right now?”

You go to turn up the radio—of course he wouldn’t know, he’s been asleep…

“The Wall fell last night. No one’s coming.”

He blinks at you, shocked as you leave. “What?”

[…and therefore we have made the decision today to institute a regulation, which permits every resident of East Germany to depart the country through any border crossing of the GDR…]

You cross the room to sit next to Bucky on the bed.

“What will you do?”

“Do?” You cock a questioning brow in his direction. You’re so wiped you kick your feet up before realizing that puts you fully in bed with him. “I wasn’t aware that anything needed doing.”

“Can’t imagine your higher ups are gonna be too happy with what happened here,” he points out.

“Nothing happened. I completed my mission.”

You say it so cavalier that you can feel him staring at you. Disbelief radiates from his spot on the bed.

“They’ll never be happy,” you deadpan, slinging an arm across your face. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“You sayin’ you’d lie for me?” he asks, unsure.

“I’d lie for me… There’s a difference.”

“You do that a lot in your line of work?”

A knowing smile betrays you. “As much as any other woman today, I’d like to think.”

“You thinkin’ ah’ going back so soon?”

Who said anything about missin’ you—

You lower the arm and crane your neck towards the window. “We’re holed up here until the press dies down. You want to take advantage, be my guest. That’s not my style.”

—Ain’t no shame in it… but walkin’ away from a fight? Not my style, Sergeant.

He must hear it, too. You make out the hitch in his breath as he sits, worked up and shaking so bad… You reach out for him, your thumb brushing over the back of his hand.

“You really don’t remember. Do you.”

That it’s not a question when he says it breaks your heart.

“Fragments… Bits and pieces,” you say weakly. “I remember feeling the warmth of two bodies next to me. It helps… It gives me something to hold onto when they try and clear out those defective parts that tell ‘em no.”

“Ever enough to walk away?” he asks, all too hopeful.

You look down at the hand wrapped in yours as you burn stars and stripes over his skin with your touch. He already knows your answer.

He shakes his head into your neck. “I’m so damn sorry.”

You place a deft kiss onto his shoulder without even thinking. All you want to do is soothe this broken boy… give him anything he wants. Not because he’s asking for it, but that he’s showing it’s possible at all.

“You could render me unconscious,” you offer. “Just knock me out. Then I’d have no choice in it.”

“No.”

“If they see that I’ve openly defected, there’s nothing stopping them from coming after us. We’ll never know peace.”

“No,” he argues. “There’s always a choice. You’ve had enough ah’ that taken away from you in your time.”

He puts both hands at either side of your head. You’re eye to eye now, there’s no other option than giving him his say. “If we do this, we accept the consequences…”

You shut your eyes and think of Paris. You savor it.

It’s a good dream, you think to yourself. The best so far…

“Besides… You asshole’s are always savin’ me. Let me wear the tights for a bit and play hero for a change, yeah?”

Your stomach burns. Your heart aches. Tears prick at your eyes as you try and picture this life they had, this life of love. It’s a life your very existence spoils like a plate of fresh fruit turned to decay.

Wasted potential and bygone promises. That’s what his life with you on the run will be. And he’ll do it all.

He never said it was for you.

“You must have really loved her… Your Sunshine.”

He stares at you like he doesn’t know all that you’ve done… As if the only answer to a question never even posed should be so natural, so glaringly obvious.

“I love you, dummy.”

Damn him.

You collapse beside him as much as you can collapse in a bed. You press his forehead into your own, all of the tension leaving your body in one foul swoop.

You’re left behind a quaking heap of emotion, tears clouding your vision.

“I’m so tired,” you cry out.

Those fingers thrum soft against your scalp, his calloused thumbs flexing to dry your cheeks. He drops a kiss on your hairline and holds you close. What remains of the broadcast lingers in the background—the last vestiges of an old world adapting for the new, just like the wavering of a chrysalis ripe for rebirth.

“Listen to me,” he whispers against your temple. He rakes your hair back as he goes. “Listen. You don’t have to fight anymore. I’m gonna make this right and I’ll spend the rest ah’ forever makin’ it up to you.”

There’s a beat of silence. His promises should scare you—

You look up at him. “Together?”

“Together… Forever.”

—but all you can feel is the warmth of his body and the beat of his heart.

He’s alive.

You both are.

Silence falls around you as your breathing steadies in his arms.

…I, I will be King… And you, you will be Queen… Though nothing will drive them away… We can be heroes just for one day… We can be us just for one day…

#eliza's 5k challenge #youngmoneymilla #bucky x reader #bucky x reader x steve #marvel fanfic #mine #also on ao3 @happhys #can you tell i miss the hoe-t3??#my fics

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bastillewolf · 6 years

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Last Winter (Bucky/Reader/Steve) - Chapter V

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader, (in later chapters!)Steve Rogers/Reader

Summary: Even though he claims to be as tough as he appears to be, James Buchanan Barnes doesn’t have a skin made of metal. While he has to work hard for his money, keep his best friend from picking a fight and his sister protected, he feels as if the slightest breeze might be able to push him over. That is until a stranger picks an interest in him and helps him find his way back home. Whatever home feels like.

Warnings: (Not all apply to this chapter) Strong female characters, mentions of violence and death, angst, mental health issues, future sexual content

Notes: Please let me know if you prefer an original character or a reader-insert, it means a lot to me. I’m never really sure how to write down what the reader feels considering everyone reacts differently to situations so if no one comments anything, I’ll make this O.C. instead of reader-insert.

Tag List: (Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list)

CHAPTER V - Not the Same

“Don’t worry about it, pal,” one of his comrades told him after Bucky had profusely apologized multiple times during their running for dragging them into this. The blonde soldier was quite a bit younger than him, he looked like he was still in his teenage years. He reminded Bucky in some ways of Steve, but although he was quite skinny, he wasn’t that skinny. And his eyes weren’t the blue sparkly ones that lit up with the courage even Bucky could not muster up as much as his best friends’ could. Instead, the soldier’s were warm brown ones. “But you gotta tell us what’s distracting you. No offense, but a sergeant who’s distracted when a gun’s being pointed at him doesn’t seem like much of an asset to the team.”

Bucky pondered over it for a moment.

“Just leave the fella alone, Frazier. If he don’t wanna talk ‘bout it, he don’t wanna talk ‘bout it.” The soldier right behind them called out. He had a southern accent and a head of brown messy hair. He moved to jog next to them and held out his hand, which Bucky firmly shook. “The name’s Kenneth Martin. That’s Charlie Frazier over there. Now, you got a name or should we just keep calling ya Barnes?”

“Nah, you can call me Bucky. Nice to meet you,” he chuckled.

“Now, if I assume correctly your dreamy head ain’t just distracted because of homesickness, am I correct?”

“I thought we were supposed to leave him-“

“Shut up, Frazier. Am I correct?” Kenneth continued.

“Yeah,” Bucky replied.

“So this is about a woman then?”

Bucky’s silence was enough of an answer for Kenneth.

“I know how ya feel,” he decided to go with, “and the next couple of weeks won’t go easy on ya, I can tell ya that. But it helps to talk about it, ya know. This must sound real stupid coming from a guy like me, but we’re on the same side in this war. Whether it’s against the Germans or against women.”

A laugh escaped Bucky’s lips, and a sense of ease washed over him. Though they were in his squadron, he hadn’t been properly introduced to them before because of his self-induced isolation. At the time, he had felt like they should stay away from him as far as possible, so he could brood in so-called peace. Truth be told, he hadn’t had any peace up until now. He’d actually managed to form a bond with these two, even if they’d just met. He felt like he wasn’t so alone anymore, and that was a true relief.

When Bucky finished telling about the mysterious dame - while leaving out the part where she’d had to save his ass and instead made up a story about how they’d bumped into each other - they had finished their lap and were strewn out on the grass field, catching their breath.

“She must be real special then, for you to act this way,” Frazier commented with a smile.

“Yeah.” Bucky averted his gaze to try to hide the redness of his cheeks, but Kenneth had already caught him.

The brunette leaned forward and punched Bucky in the shoulder. “Ya listen to me now, pal. Ya only come across that feeling once, if you’re lucky maybe even twice in a lifetime. So promise me that when you get outta this war you’re gonna find that gal and marry her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to marry him?” Frazier asked.

Now it was his turn to get punched in the shoulder by Kenneth.

“Ouch!”

“If she don’t wanna marry him, that’s a goddamned shame. But the way you describe her to me, she definitely seems like she fancies you too. Don’t waste that opportunity,” Kenneth answered honestly.

Weeks passed by, maybe even months, Bucky didn’t know. But it grew easier to continue with his life. He was more focused, got his appetite back and made some great friends. His heart didn’t feel like it was at the bottom of his stomach anymore, and though he sometimes had to take a step back, he would take two steps forward the next day.

Colonel Phillips’ trust in him seemed to be restored, as he permitted a day off when the sun felt like a burning furnace. So they spent their time swimming in the lake, which they had discovered when they had spent a night taking an extra big lap as a punishment for stealing a commander’s clothes when he had been taking a bath.

“Shut up, Frasier!” Kenneth yelled, pushing said person’s head underneath the water in an attempt to drown him. Bucky watched them with a smirk on his face, all Frasier had to do to annoy Kenneth was to comment about how the brunette had looked at Bucky’s bare torso a tad longer than was socially acceptable. And all Bucky had to do to annoy the both of them was to tell them they should get a room. Now he faced the consequences, as waves of water splashed over him.

“I bet Martin would rather share a room with you, Barnes!” Charlie yelled before yet again his head was forced into the water by the said brunette. Bucky chuckled as he climbed onto the small dock to look for his towel.

“Sarge!” he heard someone call out from the road. He turned to face Dugan, a red-headed soldier adorned with a bowler hat and a great mustache. Only his friends called him Dum Dum, including Bucky. He had grown to respect the rambunctious man for his outspokenness and bravery over the past months. He was lucky to be able to call him his friend and teammate.

“What is it, Dum Dum?” he replied curiously.

“I’m not sure, but Phillips asked to see you. He said it was urgent. Didn’t seem too happy either, so you better hurry.”

Bucky nodded, quickly shrugging his trousers on and slinging his towel over his shoulder, before jogging after Dum Dum towards the open field. His heart started pounding a bit faster. He hadn’t done anything wrong, had he? He and Phillips might’ve started off at the wrong foot but he’d been positive that he’d restored that bond, even going as far as thinking that Phillips actually kinda liked him. However, the commander was a force to be reckoned with and not able to read easily, so he wasn’t too sure about his deducting.

Dum Dum seemed to sense his worry and clasped a hand on his shoulder as they reached the tent. “You’re gonna be alright, Sarge. He knows we can’t fight the Germans without you.” Bucky smiled a bit at that. He took a deep breath, before stepping inside. Turns out he had walked into the middle of an argument between the commander and a man he didn’t recognize.

“-It was necessary. I couldn’t just take a shot in the dark-“

“I don’t care what was necessary,” Phillips interrupted the man, “First off, you took one of my best secret agents out into the open without asking for my permission. She did not have to be involved in this. Any other agent would have gotten a job as easy as that one done. Secondly-“

“I don’t think you understand, Colonel. I trust her with my life and she was the only one who could really tell if he was the right match for the serum. I couldn’t leave that up to anyone else. She’s the best at reading people and you know how much this operation means to me.”

Phillips sighs deeply, resting his hand on his hip while the other rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Barnes, how long have you been standing there?”

Bucky jumped in surprise, feeling the unfamiliar man’s gaze now fall upon him as well. He had a frizzy haircut and glasses. Also looked like he hadn’t slept in a while, though his eyes held a warmness in them. “I- Uh… Not very long, sir. I just walked in.”

“Barnes, this is doctor Erskine. Doc, this is Sargent James Barnes from the 107th,” Phillips introduced, “Sorry to disappoint, but I didn’t invite you in here for tea, Barnes. Sit down. We have things to discuss.” He gestured towards a worn chair across his desk, which Bucky hesitantly took a seat in.

The commander turned towards an open flap in the tent that looked out into the forest. He remained silent for a moment as if pondering over his next words.

“You met a woman before you joined the army, didn’t you, Barnes?”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I-I’m not sure what you mean, Commander. I’ve met a lot of women before the war.”

The man in question rolled his eyes in return. “You met her in an alley, isn’t that correct?”

Bucky clasped his jaws shut, not really knowing what to say. Of course, he knew who Phillips was talking about, but how did they know about her meeting him? More specifically, in an alleyway? Did one of the soldiers throw it out in the open? No, they wouldn’t do that to him, they were his friends. He was curious and wanted to ask, but a part of him was too anxious.

“She’s a woman you won’t fail to remember. Now, you put up quite the act here, Sargeant Barnes, but I want you to answer me truthfully now or I’ll personally kick your ass out of the army.”

No, he couldn’t let that happen. He won’t be another disappointment. Not to his sister, not to Steve. “Y-Yes, sir. I did meet her.”

Phillips leaned against the front of his desk, keeping his eyes firmly set on the man who was now slightly sweating in his chair.

“What happened between the two of you?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Bucky questioned.

“I know about how she met you because she wrote it in her mission report. You nearly got beaten up in an alley if she hadn’t operated a full rescue mission to save you. She went to your friend’s apartment to give your coat back afterwards. You walked her home. I know about all of it.”

Bucky’s breath got caught in his throat. What mission? Had she been playing with him? Was someone out to kill him? Or Steve? Or Becca?

“She’s not been the same since she left Brooklyn. I want to know why.”

“Give the man a break, Chester, it appears as though his brains are going to explode any second,” a voice came from the opening of the tent. They all snapped their heads to find the woman in question leaning against the wooden pillar of the tent.

“I thought I sent you on a mission,” the Colonel grumbled.

“You did,” she said as she walked past Bucky and threw a pile of papers on the desk. He noticed her hips swaying slightly. “And I finished it. If you wanted to keep me busy, you should’ve at least made it more difficult for me.” She winked at the brunette, who was growing more and more flustered by the minute.

“What’s going on?” He muttered.

“If you have a problem with the way I work, why don’t you just say it to my face,” she suddenly spat at Phillips.

“I don’t have a problem with the way you work, I have a problem with your lack of performance,” he growled back.

“Excuse me?!”

“Admit it, ever since you got back from New York. You’ve gotten sloppy and distracted. You better give me a good reason why because I am about to sack you for all the bullshit you’ve been causing lately.”

Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “You can’t fire me. You need me. I play way too big of a part in all of this. You don’t have the authority to fire me.”

Phillips sighs and shrugs, as if showing the obvious signs of defeat. “You’re right.” He nods towards Barnes with a glint in his eyes. “But I can fire him.”

Shit.

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Watch me.”

“If you fire him, I resign.”

“Great, then I’ll make sure his sister doesn’t get a degree or a proper job for the rest of her life. Perhaps I can’t make your life miserable, but I certainly can make his.”

She was practically fuming with anger, her jaw clenching to a near breaking point while the other man in the room was looking quite uncomfortable with the tension in the room. She suddenly strutted towards Phillips and grabbed him by his collar, managing to lift his feet a few inches off the ground. The Colonel might be an intimidating and important man, but this time, his eyes betrayed him.

“If you think you can threaten people that I care about as easy as that, you must either be very stupid or not aware of what I’m capable of. Considering you’ve read my files, I’m going to call you stupid.”

Doctor Erskine had sprung up from his seat and put his hand on the dame’s arm. Bucky noticed that it was more in comfort rather than a warning. “Please let go of him,” he murmured loud enough for only them to hear, “He’s not worth it. You’re better than that.”

She turned her head and gave him a dead-serious look. “Am I?”

He gave her a warmhearted look. “Yes.”

There was a moment of unbroken silence before she finally dropped him. The Colonel quickly straightened his shirt and narrowed his eyes at her. His face was red with anger. “Now I know what this is all about. I had hoped you were smarter than that, but apparently, I was mistaken. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

She didn’t answer.

He gave her a look that Bucky would almost describe as disgusted. “Get out of my tent. All of you!”

A/N

I am very sorry it's been so long. I haven't had any inspiration in a long while for any of my stories, but I wanted to get something out to you amazing people for being so supportive so I put on a Glenn Miller record and forced my fingers to type. I hope this chapter turned out reasonably acceptable. Thanks for your patience. I hope to update more often now.

#Bucky x reader #Stucky x reader #Steve x reader #Marvel #Stucky #Love triangle #WW2 #Captain America #Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #reader insert #romance #fluff #oc #avengers

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shieldedsouls · 5 years

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( v; determined to stay howlarious | werewolf!dugan » battlesthatmatter ) / ( v; can’t wait to sink in | born werewolf!dugan )

he knows something is different about bucky. sure, everyone knows something is off, but they’re all putting it under ‘ tortured by hydra ’ and have decided to call it a day. dugan, however, just knows it’s something else. the sergeant is far quieter than he used to be, hangs in the captain’s shadow more than anywhere else, but he just…looks off. like he’s hurt and trying not to show it.

dugan at first tries to simply offer distraction, wrapping his coat around the brunet and showing off the new photographs of lydia and ellie that came with a care package of sweets he very unevenly distributed to make sure bucky got just a little more. hell, he even handed over a couple of cigars with only minor complaint. he’d get an answer one way or another, whatever time it may take, and he’d think of plenty of ways to cajole for it. he’s nothing if not determined, honestly.

he does not get it in any kind of way he expects to, however. he’d realised he had left the photographs in a pocket of his coat and headed out to where bucky was supposed to be on patrol, only to find a pile of clothes beyond their perimeter; the man had gotten as far as picking up the coat in confused worry and glancing out into the darkness of the surrounding forest, bucky’s name halfway out of his mouth when the world goes sideways.

well, actually, he does, and if he hadn’t been reaching for the strap of his rifle the teeth that sank into his forearm would have torn through his throat. there’s zero time to react to what’s happened beyond registering the sickening warmth of his own blood seeping into his vest, as before he can take a defensive swing or anything the creature whines and releases his arm, making more whuffled noises. a wet nose presses to his cheek, followed by a scratchy tongue across his face, and dugan finally is able to move enough to shove away with his other arm, right one currently all but useless, and he groans as he rolls directly into the roots of a tree, heart racing as he tries to figure out what in the fuck is happening.

only after he’s managed to get to a sitting position does some of the noise seem to die down, and before him is a giant wolf. okay, problem number one. big blue eyes; weird, but maybe that’s how wolves are out here, he’s not well-versed on them. shuffling anxiously the way bucky sometimes does when he thinks he’s done something wrong and is about to be reprimanded? big, big, big problem number two. he gets another whine, and dugan realises he hasn’t said a word throughout the entire last couple minutes, not even a yell after the breath had gotten knocked out of him ( not easy for a man his size ), and he chances a look away from the wolf to check his arm. there’s no way that could be good, but he’s…pretty sure it isn’t gonna kill him. probably.

“ guess i shoulda checked my pockets before lettin’ you go off, ” the redhead grins, though his teeth are grit together. figuring that at this point the sergeant is unlikely to go for the throat again, dugan pulls a kerchief out of a front pocket to try and staunch some of the bleeding. amazingly, it doesn’t look that bad, though he’s sure he’s going to be aching for at least a few days, but before he can get the will to push off the ground and back to his feet, the wolf is yet again whining softly and curled up over his lap, chin resting on dugan’s shoulder. as close as bucky can get to apologising, he figures, gently bumping their heads.

“ i hear you, sarge, i hear you. ”

by unfortunate accident ( dugan is far less bothered about the entire thing than bucky is ), he’s a turned werewolf and ends up as part of @battlesthatmatter‘s pack after the howling commandos have been formed. he takes the curveball pretty damn well, as far as life-altering changes go, but it serves as very solid reason to not go home right away once the war ends. he doesn’t take the loss of bucky or rogers very well, but buries most of the pain behind his usual humour and continuing to work in europe.

important note: this is technically also based on my bucky’s turned!wolf verse but the interpretations will remain separate to be more open for interaction. i just want to be clear on rogers being the pack leader and the one generally in charge until he’s lost with the valkyrie.

#( v; determined to stay howlarious | werewolf!dugan » battlesthatmatter )#werewolf verse #supernatural verse #monster verse #teen wolf verse #( new adventures | verses | dugan )#battlesthatmatter #( start to start | verses )#( v; can't wait to sink in | born werewolf!dugan )

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airoasis · 5 years

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"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/chirpy-burpy-cheap-sheep-father-ted-series-3-episode-2-dead-parrot-2/

"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

Hey Fargo ah ok whats up you will have Chris watching nice for the competitors quality lad ha ha freely hey there Fargo benefit how’s the chance is exceptional if you happen to quit on him this year father well I put the entire annual eating allowance on him to win if he does not win what that means fiber well we will not have any heating however nevertheless it’s riskier stays as warm as a summer season heckler had been laughing come on teach Chris he’s a champ speak about it’s a designated J and you heard about this creature going around terrorizing sheep on the island no inform me more colossal is a Jaguar the vehicle be aware of what to be cutting and that is all teeth enormous white enamel the sheriff is known as as a kill get do good it can be only a subject of time does not get any Amoy she no intellect she be riskless Oh kids yay so nevertheless it’s handiest a subject of time be really low priced the sheriff is named Duggal supply the album a relaxation no come on Ted it’s tremendous I feel men and women will soon give up taking note of pop music and take heed to this style of thing alternatively you understand from what I hear in the charts today but i am no longer definite if that’s no longer going down already what that is so good k failed to it we’ve got acquired all sorts of things as if with the aid of magic i can create a large crowd of invisible dots or take you on a commute into darkest Africa i’m going to convey you right into a spooky fortress on a stormy night time hiya craggy Island broken apartment father technically speaking father Fargo father are you able to come over here fast and without doubt Fargo what appears to be the early life I used to move out to will is some thing of a celebrity go boil that is doing you o.K. You look horrible does not you do just right all of it I didn’t get so much sleep father I saved thinking I heard this horrible howling noise good that’ll be the Beast what is that there may be anything terrible on the moors farther north we haven’t any extra then there’s anything horrible roaming the circular the location the place ordinarily there could be extra father they feel it might be a style of significant fox dougas sorry howdy it couldn’t be Jack might you would see her any one could mistake him for a giant madcap recollect to wildering jump years father Jack may be very much littered with the changing of the seasons for a short while a awesome serenity enters his lifestyles and he is as one with nature he’s excellent when he is within the mood Sonia’s final little bit longer I better go on make some tea Dugan I might flip off that report however it is off what do you mean Chris is not within the competition did the chump you have got to enter him all this talk of the beast has obtained to UM his now that’s right I took a photo of him this morning nerves I mean Fargo it’s she he invariably had an extraordinarily creative temperament father yeah Robin will not be a live performance penis is a she you I do not know oh my god I imply whilst you examine it with what he gave the look of final yr two thoroughly distinct sheep he is off his food he’s now not dozing and he started took ball what am I going to do Fargo pull yourself together Chris needs you know greater than he’s ever needed you come on I want to see him cargo that is an order take me to see Chris the sad sheep god dude you should have noticeable him he’s just a shadow of a sheep not surprised head if I used to be a sheep i might be gazing my again proper now right given that of the Beast that is greatest for cats and it is got a retractable legs so they may be able to soar opportu higher if you understand watch head it lights up at night and the four ears chew them up for listening and the other two are type of again up here the crows are as tremendous as cooked and for some cause is so some Indus fear of stamps mrs.Doyle used to be telling me that has bought magnets on tails so they are made out of metal it will probably connect itself to you and as a substitute of the notes it is obtained four hours it’s a legend it doesn’t exist right head the way as a Phantom of the Opera does not exist that used to be the Opera does not exist so i’m no longer going to get into this what does exist and what would not exist debate once more ok but i will have got to insist you add these last two examples to the chart ok Duggal no i’m extra concerned about that i+ on Chris fitting king of the sheep i don’t feel it might win then no burping sheep has ever gained us what about gigantic Brendan in 1983 yeah anyway it’s only a heating price range and appear what the weather information says just final year’s weather news what this is this 12 months I have got to go and spot if John and Mary would let me take my a reimbursement the next day to come I could go down with you see in the event that they’ve got one other sound effects album volume 5 fair adequate I bet one of the v-rod are on the within of his head I win a yawn it has a green leaf a chair to load a hand around and performed a barrel good day Fargo and then he does not have any eyebrows in any respect besides on Saturday you learn from manners i will telephone away the cake how do you adore that huh hi there John hey silence really hi there Tiger McGuire very oh oh she’s conscious and her mother Wow it’s a room someone within the cupboard no father Mary Todd Mary I forgot you have been there correct I proposal you heard your mom’s no I did not go to me mother in the end i am in the cabinet Mary what are you doing in there oh I comprehend it’s for the reason that of this beast of craggy Island factor I proposal that Mary could be safer in the cupboard i am Errol appear welcome to you for father oh yeah p.C. Of 20 incorporates i’m going to get them love you stay in the cabinet John can i have a word ma’am whats up Mary no three days mechanics oh yeah i’m fine anyway i am sorry father a bets a bet it can be simply but if the lady doesn’t have the operation she will not be beneath fetch water for her village i’m sorry father if the pite did not stay up for the chances of prolong to twenty to 1 as a result of Chris’s worried troubles anyway your cigarette thanks Ted they don’t have the sound result out and we might as good just go hi bye-bye then i’m hoping you’re satisfied I shut up oh seem there’s tremendous Reed howdy enormous what are you fascinated by there Ted you must see the massive critical seem for your face I are not able to see Crispin in this competitors guru Ted it’s pointless even interested by it you are most effective wasting your time there’s nothing we are able to do about the quandary we simply have to accept the fact and that is that how about we convey Kris over here for a even as possibly to alter your doing excellent oh ho extraordinary amazing or something we would do failed to I say it as a minimum India they’re just a 2nd ago no no you failed to you said the special opposite there was obviously nothing we might do genuinely Ted you may have performed this to me before I took the liberty of tape in the conversation just have just a little you are simplest wasting your time there’s nothing we will do the trouble I stand corrected ah serious now anyway i’m nonetheless now not sure about this now father do not worry more difficult however the subsequent time you see him he’ll be a new sheet if not with making me to a jumper and a few chops i am terribly sorry sir that used to be just a PI i am terribly terribly sorry i’m going to be off then okay so and critically it was one location he may also be certain peace and quiet I suppose will likely be an insult to you if I conclude that sentence you’re a parity father yes we’re also try and get Chris into form for the competition do you believe what are you friends like a cup of tea father it isn’t she fellow i do not suppose they drink staff has warmness oil not except you might have some distinctive sheet tea sure I do have some sheet tea within the kitchen rightful them give them given some nothing k so Godhead it is close to midday we need to stand up this early inquire from me accomplished Duggal we’ve bought to get Chris from watching like this to looking like this it is your father digit is he i am sorry we tried the whole lot I went I consider that I is I better take him dwelling aha ah gotcha did you what did you just did my nice so be aware of what to claim father can i buy you a drink to have a good time o.K. Mcdougal you mind Krister we get back and do not let him wander away keep an eye on them and keep that front door closed ok Ted is the rest taking Shiva good day did you see and also you activate gratefully over feeling your neck truely determined 33 that’s how shut once I need to pay extra in these photos ever that you would be able to stack this the high-quality baccarat seem at me devour yeah excellent yes that is like Duggal I detect that the entrance door is large open oh it’s yes Ted as we are presently sheepish oh ah dude I told you to maintain the entrance door closed no just keep up their head how do we know which way to go she’s like several wool bearing animals instinctively journey north but colder mr.Self so we ought to go north which approach is out I do not know that you can come from throughout us the Sioux Indians and the Arizona desert was in a position to pinpoint the distinct location of Buffalo with the aid of gauging the position of the moon and hanging their ears to the ground genuinely Ted maybe the sound is coming from that stereo it can be Chris y’alright he’s pleasant he needs to have an understanding of it was simply some thing stereo placing from the tree i am residence Dougal I consider i am starting to figure out what’s been happening well it’s been an convenient selection there is one alpha no twin-off and as a substitute than waste got here with a speech and get on with the job of a recognized thing the winner who today has come forced on this competitors to peer who the winner is within the king of the sheep competitors that we’ve got all come to at present wondering who Andy might be to win the prize of king of the Sheep the winner of this 12 months’s king of the Sheep competition is up hiya what’s the which means of this this competitors is a sham and a fraud and as sham how dare you there may be been a can provide and ratings try to sabotage this high profile sheep competition little puzzle are in this very room chines Reed and hood Hastings you better have enjoyable the fact that opus trouble all I do I do you’re the ones who constantly shatters of the so called beast of tiny island perpetually within hearing distance of Krista sheep paragon of the champion and it was you who used a replica of BBC sound results vol 5 to add method to those pants will declare an impression of she might no longer aid however be satisfied with the aid of the late-night time howlings of terrible monster Taipei and from manner approach approach work up lovely image father Freddy has painted how dare you bring disgrace on this fella place or knock shape and let me too tough on them so you do not know your identify introduced do not be too hard on the malum they had been conveniently pawns actual villain on this piece has yet to be printed Fargo boils what yeah I obtained cool now it is my deal with it used to be you who used to be disillusioned on the terrible odds Chris was receiving you who plan to manipulate these odds via sabotaging your own sheep after which staging a astonishing recovery on the day of the competitors you who paid large and hood to talk about the beast in entrance of Chris ah Oh James hello there I didn’t depend on the self-love of your accomplices who use their newfound wealth to buy a fur coat and a crown and it was once you who bought the BBC sound effects document sixty four for the dramatic alterations you who gave the sheet to me figuring out that could be a priest with an intuitive figuring out of sheep I could nurse him again to wellbeing you wish it is now not actual it is typical keep the Panisse father no he is lost the believe of his sheep that is punishment ample the farmer who offers exceptionally to low cost excuse me there is a bit of extension right here and i want some recent air one factor Ted if Chris has been disqualified does not imply you have got lost the heating allowance money on the mattress I know it’s a thorough step Duggal but it is very very bloodless here three months then Ted certainly on no account go to the bathroom first

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batterymonster2021 · 5 years

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"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/chirpy-burpy-cheap-sheep-father-ted-series-3-episode-2-dead-parrot-2/

"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

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salvagedsouls · 1 year

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( v. can't wait to sink in | werewolf!dugan )

he's out on his own tonight. it's an unusual occurrence, but but after a blowup between everyone at the campsite he needed the space to cool off and get back to being okay. dugan didn't faze easily but once he was, being alone was best for everyone, including himself. so out on his own for awhile it was, listening to the sounds of the forest to try and calm the buzzing in his head.

he's out there for awhile, not too far from camp but maintaining distance for the rest of the afternoon and eventually wandering a little further when he can hear chatter from those who had already calmed back down. he's smart enough to not do much more, until eventually he has to concede it's time go back as darkness begins to fall. he makes it all of about two yards before something slams into his side, completely knocking the man off his feet and the air out of his lungs; he and his attacker go crashing through underbrush and leaves until they unfortunately find a tree in the way, leaving dugan dazed even as he finally shoves the other off. he gets as far as turning his head to look for who's responsible before he gets an answer: a low growling and a very large muzzle maybe three feet from his face. the stare-off lasts maybe seconds before the growling stops, the giant wolf's head cocking to one side and dugan figures this is it. he's still too shaken up to even try to fend a person off, let alone anything with teeth that sharp. but instead the thing whines, and dugan can't help flinching when it closes the distance only to lick the side of his head. a delayed sting tells him he's got a cut, and as he pushes up on one hand he notices another problem: a very torn up shoulder to go with the pain now kicking in. the damn thing had bitten him only to stop now and he winces again when it pushes against his side with another whine. whatever the hell is happening, this is not the bonding with nature he'd come out for. " apology accepted? " he finally mumbles in confusion, getting yet a third whine, though this one is much softer in volume. they sit there for who knows how long, giving dugan's heart time to stop racing and the ridiculousness of the scene to sink in, until eventually the wolf stands back up. it just stares at him again before finally padding off into the darkness of the forest. away from the campsite.

dugan is a turned werewolf, although he takes to the life surprisingly well. it doesn't do much in changing his temperament or outlook, once he gets past the original attack. mostly it amplified his positive traits, and the way he was turned made him very cautious as a wolf when out during shifts.

small note: unless plotted otherwise, bucky is the one who turned him. it can be optional about whether dugan knows.

#monster verse #werewolf verse #( start to start | verses )#( could be anything | v. | dugan )#( v. can't wait to sink in | werewolf!dugan )#[ the drabble ran away from me a lil oopsydaisy ]#[ anyway wolf dugan is like regular dugan but bigger tbh ]

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rebeccahpedersen · 6 years

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Conflicting Opinions?

TorontoRealtyBlog

That’s the truth of it: we’re just about to head into August, and you really can’t tell anything about the overall market by looking at one slow month in the summer.

Same goes for December, save for perhaps the first week to ten days.

But would anybody in their right mind sit down in the first week of January, analyze the December market statistics, and try to use them to predict what lays ahead in January and February?

December just isn’t your typical month in the real estate calendar, and by the same token, neither is August.

I sat down to film my Pick5 video on Wednesday afternoon, and as I searched by area with the MLS mapping tool, there wasn’t a single area in the city in which I could find five quality properties to feature, analyze, and discuss.

Listings are light right now, but that’s to be expected – it’s the summer.

And things are only going to get slower as we move through August.

This is the first time since the start of January that I’ve found myself without a single listing.

I had a listing up until this morning, but we’re taking it off the market. The listing is a detached house, over $2M, located north of the 401. So basically one of the toughest properties to sell in the city right now, and there is a lot of competition.

So rather than letting the property sit on the market all summer long, rotting, getting stale, and encouraging lowball bids, we figured we would “put some time in between listings,” as I always say, stop the “days on market” from racking up on MLS, and give the listing a refresh in the second week of September.

Not every seller has that luxury, of course. Some sellers are selling because they’ve just bought, and they need to sell.

Of course, not every agent has that luxury either. I’m doing what’s right for the seller in the long run, and I know the business is there down the line. Most listing agents would n-e-v-e-r terminate a listing before the contract is up, because they’re afraid of losing it. And dare I say, that like many buyers that use “hope” and “faith,” and are naive when they submit offers of the list price in competition, many listing agents just “hope” a buyer will come along to make an offer on their stale, over-priced listing in the slowest period of the year.

So what can we really learn from the next six weeks in the Toronto real estate market?

Not a whole heck of a lot, at least in terms of what to expect moving forward.

If you’re a buyer, well holy cow – get out there! New listings are scarce, yes. But in certain pockets (like the one I mentioned above), there’s a logjam of properties. And with August typically being a slow month, there just might be deals to be had, in certain market segments.

I’ll still most likely write a blog in the first week of August, analyzing the July-stats, and trying to draw conclusions. But as you saw last month, even I was willing to suggest that the stats, and what I was experiencing out in the market, didn’t always correspond.

We see this a lot in the media too.

Of course, that can be said of virtually any topic, or industry, or especially when it comes to politics.

Look down south and compare Fox News to CNN.

Now I’m not ignorant, so clearly I don’t watch or support Fox News. But as big of a fan of CNN as I am (not to mention free speech, humanity, common sense, and everything that goes in the opposite direction of Donald Trump), I will admit that even CNN goes too far in the other direction sometimes. It almost risks undermining their integrity, at times.

Here in Toronto, we have the Toronto Sun and the Toronto Star, which basically report the same story, with completely different facts and conclusions. The two newspapers could literally feature a photo of a bug on a windshield on their front covers, and one headline would read “Poor Bug Gets Squashed By Bad Driver,” and the other would read, “Hero Driver Takes Out Nuisance Bug.”

Like I said, we could play this game all day.

And when it comes to real estate, this theme is ever-present.

Take a look at these three headlines:

Now this set of headlines is tremendously ironic, because all of them are from BNN.

But right next to “housing market bottoming out,” we have “home prices set to fall further.”

And this isn’t even a case of The Star vs. The Sun – it’s the same media outlet!

Here’s one I saved from earlier in the month, when the June stats were released:

Global reports negativity – that sales in Canada are down to a 5-year-low, and down 10% since last year.

Financial Post reports positivity – that Toronto represents Canada’s biggest gain in home sales this year. Using Toronto to lead Canada is a bit of creative story-telling.

And last but not least, Globe & Mail tells us that a 10% drop is actually a plus.

If you’re a buyer or a seller out there, how the hell do you make sense of all this?

So try today’s headline on for size:

“Toronto, Vancouver housing markets still ‘highly vulnerable’: CMHC”

That was written in the Globe & Mail on Wednesday.

And if you read the article in full, you’ll see that even the CMHC doesn’t really know how to view the market, or even how to issue their own warnings, risk assessments, and outlooks.

From the article:

Despite slowing sales, CMHC chief economist Bob Dugan said the warnings about vulnerability have not been adjusted in Toronto and Vancouver because the agency needs long-term evidence that the market is changing.

“Prices can fluctuate and be up one quarter, down the next, and if every quarter we’re reacting to that and changing our message, it becomes a little more confusing what the overall assessment of the market might be,” he said.

CMHC’s assessment of risk in Toronto’s market has been unchanged since October, 2016, while Vancouver’s assessment has been unchanged since July, 2017.

–

So essentially, the CMHC is explaining that market “prices can fluctuate,” which is great, because all this time – I didn’t know that…

But they’re also telling us that they prefer to be behind the market, than in front of it. They like to make predictions based on what’s happened in the past, and they’re weary of altering those predictions for the future, until they have more past data.

Great.

All this time, I thought they had a crystal ball…

Better Dwelling also picked up the story:

“Canada’s National Housing Agency Thinks Canadian Real Estate Is Overvalued”

Take a look at the chart that dominated their article:

(Source: CMHC & Better Dwelling)

Yeah, well no kidding the CMHC don’t like changing their market outlooks!

There are eighty different assessments in that graph. Eight-zero.

And only ONE of them has been altered. Looks like Winnipeg is heating up!

So what then would you make of a headline like this:

“‘Market has bottomed out’: Housing prices in Toronto region set to climb again after brief slump”

Well, if you’re like me, you’re wondering

a) Who said this b) Why c) With what data

Was Albert Einstein’s great-great grandchild interviewed for this piece?

Maybe a few rocket-scientists?

At least an unbiased economist?

Nope. None of the above, but I’ll draw an analogy for you. Have you ever seen the owner of a restaurant outside on the street telling everybody “Don’t eat here, the food is awful”?

Well, by the same token, you’re probably not going to see the CEO of one of the largest real estate brokerages in Canada tell people, “The market is going to plummet. Stock up on bottled water, and stay inside.”

“Based on our analysis the market has bottomed out,” said Phil Soper, the CEO of Royal LePage.

–

Beautiful.

The best was the intro of the article, which made opinion sound like fact:

Housing prices in Greater Toronto Area are expected to reverse course in the second half of the year after a brief slump, according to a Royal LePage forecast, despite the threat of escalating Canada-U.S. trade tensions that could dent the Ontario economy.

–

Yikes.

Now to be fair, points b) and c) above were addressed, and that’s more than can be said with respect to a lot of predictions, and a lot of opinions. Your average random Internet-dweller loves to make opinions, but never back them up with data or facts. Of course on TRB, that rarely happens. Usually the readers provide so many links that the comments get flagged as spam! (PS if you’re ever wondering why your comment didn’t show up on the message board – that’s why).

So let’s look at what Mr. Soper said as to “why” prices are set to rebound:

Soper said recent headwinds for housing prices in the Toronto area will eventually be mopped up by the current under supply of new homes, as Ontario’s population continues to grow and in-migration levels reach their highest in more than 10 years. The province saw a net gain in migration over the first quarter of 2018, a nearly 50 per cent increase from the year earlier.

“We’re nowhere near the kind of housing construction rate that we need to accommodate these people,” he said.

–

Personally, I agree with him on that point.

The net migration in Toronto is likely 3-4 times new housing completions, and that’s a recipe for a massive housing shortage.

While we’re on that topic, here’s an excellent read:

“Toronto has lots of room to grow. It’s time to let that happen”

But perhaps that’s a topic for another day.

For a Friday in the middle of the summer, there are just too many thoughts happening in this one blog…

The post Conflicting Opinions? appeared first on Toronto Realty Blog.

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ryder0k · 6 years

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Tallulah D e a n ;

“Tallulah Dean for homecoming queen!” Dixie shouted, bumping playfully into Tallulah as the girls ran down the hallway, “Lula Dean for homecoming queen! Don’t forget!”

Homecoming week was normally dreadful. Tallulah was one of the only juniors to participate in Spirit Week, and while she found it riveting to dress in all neon colors or like a character from her favorite book - everyone else looked at her how they always did - a seemingly dorky outcast. Today, Thursday, it was different though. Everything was just working better. Today’s theme was - Dress As Someone You’re Not - it was weird, yes, but it gave Lula the option to dress as a rock ‘n roll girl which she totally loved. She had on a black leather jacket, some cool black leggings, and her hair was curled. Her boots had little jewels on them, and her shirt had a skull on it and she was simply rocking it. Rocking it so much that Levi Storm, resident senior hottie and guitarist of a punk rock band in Mauve came up to Tallulah and complimented her on her outfit.

Lula was an outcast, sure, but she wasn’t boy incompetent. She had plenty of friends who were boys, and though she was convinced the entire popular boy section of her school thought she was a freak, maybe Levi was different. Levi had that I-don’t-give-a-crap sort of attitude, and he wasn’t even participating in spirit week. Boys like Levi Storm didn’t even blink at spirit week, and they surely didn’t go to football games.

“I found this jacket out thrifting actually,” Lula smiled, studying Levi as he leaned up against her locker, “And the boots too.”

“They’re awesome,” His voice was silky like honey, “Hey, do you wanna come to one of my shows sometime?”

“Oh,” Tallulah’s eyes literally did that thing in cartoons where little hearts pop out and they start beating insanely fast, “Of course.”

He said something along the lines of “awesome” again, and then in a swift but familiar movement, Levi Storm threw his arm around Tallulah and they started walking down the hallway. It was magical. It was enchanting. And when he also started chanting “Tallulah Dean for homecoming queen!” Lula nearly cried tears of joy. But then she heard a voice.

“Lu--Lula? Tallulah? Tallulah Dean!” In an instant, Tallulah popped awake and lifted her head from her desk, drool on her lips, starring wide-eyed at her classmates and Psychology teacher, “Tallulah Dean, could you tell us what page we’re on since you’re reading your book soooo closely?”

Kaya S o t o ;

It all started with Kase this morning. Up bright and early, even on a Saturday, Kaya’s youngest sibling pooped his pants. He was newly toilet trained, and she understood when you had to go, you had to go, but, still - really? She was groggy, and his poop was potent, and the next thing she knew the twins were burning the scrambled eggs on the stove. Dugan had clogged the toilet, Juno was barely passing math class and - where in the Hell were her parents again? Kaya somehow managed to take her life boat and battle through the storm of the morning and always, and before she knew it, she had four minutes to get to her job at the diner.

On a good day, it took ten. On a great day, Kaya could get there in eight. Still, she’d be late and it was her third infraction this month. Sue was her general manager. She didn’t have a last name as far as Kaya knew, and everyone just called her “the evil one.” So, today with the smell of poo still all up in her nose, Kaya had to rely on her manager whom everyone literally called evil to not fire her. Luckily, the bus was quick and Mr. Brown was in his usual seat to tell Kaya her one knock knock joke a day. Then, the road to cross wasn’t busy so she scurried as fast as she possibly could into the front doors of the diner and - wham!

Kaya landed face first in a plate of their strawberry cheesecake waffles that one of the servers was bringing to the table. She wanted to cry, but she had already cried that week and Kaya was on a strict one time a week crying rule or else she’d be a blubbering mess every single day. So, she wiped whipped cream from her cheeks, apologized, and told the customers they’d remake them extra good just ‘cause she was a klutz. Though, as Kaya went to finally punch in and start her day, “the evil one” asked to see her in her office.

“I’m so sorry, Sue,” Kaya instantly shot out, “I’ve had a morning. Whew, have I had a morning! First my little brother poo--”

“Kaya, this is your third time being late this month.”

“I know! But, if you just let me explain I’m--”

“No,” Sue was surely living up to her nickname, and she didn’t bat an eyelash as she announced, “Miss Soto, I’m sorry, but, you’re fired.”

Lily S a l v e r n o n ;

“It was an eighty-two, Lily. Rounded up with your other test scores that’s still an eighty-five. An eighty-five in advanced calculus. Advanced! That’s good. That’s goo--” Lily took a large gulp of her vodka and pineapple juice, listening as the end of the year party blared from Tucker’s house next door, “Just go. Go have some fun. You deserve it.”

God, she didn’t deserve it. The anxiety thing was back. Lily didn’t know why she called it an “anxiety thing” ‘cause with her psychologist, he told her to not even call it anything. Anxiety would always be in the car, but never let it drive. Lily learned that, but she didn’t learn the part about how to not let it have the entire wheel, directions and snacks yet. So, it did. Her anxiety thing had the wheel and it was driving her mad tonight, though, a couple of pre-gaming drinks surely didn’t help her out either. It was the last day of school tomorrow for fucks sake! Her grades were already solidified and Tucker was next door. Tucker was next door and he was probably sleeping with another girl right the--no.

“No,” Lily stood up, “No, no. It’s okay. It’s okay.” She finished her drink, pulled her nonexistent boobs out of her shirt a little bit, and headed down the stairs. Her mom was already asleep on the couch, and she squeezed her hand ever-so-slightly, “I’ll be back by two, mama. I’m just right next door with Tuck.”

Tucker and about thirty of her classmates, but hey, what her groggy mom didn’t know wouldn’t kill her, right?

Carolina M o r e n o ;

Working a side job at the MODE offices was everything to Carolina. Refreshing, and full of actual adults and not high school foes, the exclusive Rhode Island fashion magazine was the place she felt at home. Though a badass bitch by day, Carolina was a writer by night. She excelled in everything and anything that had to do with English, and while no one at school really cared about her grades - they were actually good. She got the internship last summer and had secretly been working there ever since. Granted, it wasn’t so secret when she got to use their studios for amazing, over-the-top Instagram photoshoots, but still, her writing alias - Carol Penn - was something that only she and the staff knew about.

“My love, would you stand in for a photoshoot today? Mayor Henley won’t be in for another hour, and we want to make sure the lighting is right,” The Editor in Chief of MODE was Mrs. Winters and though she looked like the musical theater teacher from High School Musical, she only wore top designer brands and pranced around Mauve with her tiny dog, Poncho.

“Oh,” Carolina looked up from her desk with her beautiful smile, “Of course. Any excuse to let Andre take a few pictures of me, right?”

Mrs. Winters nodded with a Mrs. Winters smile and Carolina went on her way to the photo studio. It was custom built in the MODE offices, and though it wasn’t something you’d find in Hollywood, it was still nice. Detouring quickly to the bathroom, Carolina escaped into a stall, checking her phone but not texting back her mom and then popping two Adderall into her mouth and letting them dissolve. Tonight would be long, and with an advice column excerpt to write, photoshoots to stand in for, and a history paper to do before tomorrow, the brunette figured a little extra concentration in the form of her favorite pill wouldn’t hurt her this time. But then again, that’s what she said yesterday too.

#hey laci #help me decide who to play plZ

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