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arlana-likes-to-write · 7 months

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Lighting Bug - Chapter 22

Masterlist

Warning: guilt, form of self-harm, swearing, mention of death, Bucky needs a hug, mention of nightmares and past abuse

Relationships: Wandanat x daughter!reader, Maria x reader (platonic), Sam x reader (platonic), Bucky x reader (platonic), Rhodey x reader (platonic)

Word count: 3.5k

You were exhausted right down to your bones as you sat at the counter with a cup of tea in your hands and stared into the green liquid. There was no way you were falling asleep with those images moving in your head. “Hey kid,” Sam said suddenly. You jumped at the unexpected voice. “Are you okay? Your bagel has been done for a few minutes.” You forgot you put one in there. You stood up to grab it but Rhodey held out his hand to stop you. He grabbed a plate and placed the bagel on it then spread on it that you must have gotten out. Gods, you were beginning to lose it. You smiled as he sat in front of you.

“I didn’t sleep well last night.” You answered Sam.

“Nightmares?” Rhodey guessed.

“More like a memory,” you took a bite of your bagel, hoping they wouldn’t ask more questions.

“Rhodes and I haven’t gone to the batting cage in a while. Do you want to join us?” Sam asked. You stared at him, slowly chewing on the bagel. You had no idea what a batting cage was. “It’s a baseball thing. You go and hit baseballs and pretend to be a pro athlete.”

“Ohhh,” you said, standing up to throw the other half of your bagel away. “You could have just said that.” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Sure I have nothing planned for today.” Plus it would be nice to get out of the tower. “FRIDAY, can you tell Natasha and Wanda where I’m going to be?” You made a mental note to ask Tony for a new phone.

“Of course, Miss. Y/n,” the AI said. “Have fun you three.” It was a 45-minute drive from the tower in a part of town you had never been to. ‘Caesar’s Bat and Pizzeria.

“Can we get pizza after?” You asked as Rhodey parked the car and you unblocked your seat belt.

“We can get whatever you want,” he said. The three of you got out of the car and walked over to the building. Sam held open the door for you. The sound of loud arcade machines and laughter made you jump.

“My favorite Avengers!” A man said from behind a counter. “Where the hell have you two been? Thought you forgot about ol'Casear.” Sam chuckled.

“Hard to forget you, big man,” Caesar glared at him.

“Are you calling me fat?” You tried to cover your laugh with a cough but Caesar glanced at you. “You guys adopt a kid or something.”

“Eh kind of,” Rhodey shrugged. “You got a spot open for us.” The man continued to stare at you but you smiled and gave him a small wave.

“Yeah, same spot as always,” he said. “Come find me if you need anything.” You followed the two Avengers to a stall in the corner, there was no one next to you, and you were grateful to look like an idiot in front of some strangers. The space reminded you of the shooting range at the tower but instead of targets at the end, there was a screen.

“Wait,” you said, sitting down. “How is any of this safe with it being inside and this close to one another?” Sam smiled.

“It’s all VR,” he pulled out his wallet and pulled out his wallet, took out a car with the shop’s logo, and scanned it at the table you were sitting at. The table changed to a TV screen and it showed a baseball stadium. “You can change the stadium where you are hitting. We’ll keep it at Yankee for now.” Rhodey appeared with a bat and goggles. “Watch this.” You watched Rhodey put on the goggles and stepped into the open space. The screen changed to a character stepping up to bat. “You can change the speed of the ball pitched, complete challenges, and set up tournaments.” He began and he hit the first ball pitched to him. It sounded like you were at a baseball game.

“This is cool,” you said. “Is this place new?”

“Sort of,” Sam looked around to make sure no one was near and leaned closer. “Caesar isn’t from here.” What the hell did that mean?

“Come again? Like he’s not American.” He glared at you before rolling his eyes.

“No, like not from Earth.”

“He’s an alien?!” You half shouted in surprise. Sam put his hand over your mouth, still glaring at you. You pulled his hand off. “You just told me a man isn’t from Earth, how did you expect me to react?”

“With a little more respect and dignity,” you punched him playfully. “Besides he’s not an alien, he’s a Skrull,” you stared at him, head tilted to the side. “Oh my god,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Skrulls are shapeshifters and their planet was destroyed so until Fury and Carol can find them a new home, they are living here,” you frowned.

“Why can’t they just live here?” You asked.

“Because humans aren’t known to accept those who are different,” Rhodey said, taking off the googles. Well, you knew that firsthand. “Do you want a turn?” He asked you.

“Uh maybe I’ll watch Sam then I’ll go.” While Sam was taking his turn, you went to get drinks from Caesar’s daughter. Her name was Jasmine and you liked her, her smile was infectious but you couldn’t help but watch the father-daughter duo. If anyone but Sam told you they weren’t human, you would think they were crazy. You guessed that was the problem with the world you lived in, some people had to hide their true selves just to survive.

“Alright, kid, batter up,” Sam said, handing you the VR set. You smiled, taking it from him. Oh, you wished you could make the world a better place.

While Sam and Rhodey were waiting to get their pizza from Jasmine, you were sitting at one of the empty high tops and eating away at one of the cheese slices. You tried to wait for the two Avengers but the smell was making your stomach growl. “I know you,” Caesar said, walking over to you as you sipped on your blue Gatorade. You stared at the man as he sat in the empty chair next to you. You hopped he knew you, you spent like 2 hours at his fine establishment. “Hey,” he stuck his finger at you. “Your that teenager that can cast spells and shit.” You blinked at him.

“You mean conduct electricity.” He snapped his fingers.

“That’s the one,” he tapped his fingers against the table and looked at you then to the Avengers. “People are talking about you.”

“Me?” You questioned. “Whose talking about me?”

“The type of people you ain’t want talking,” Oh. Well, that sort of answered your question. “Look, kid, something ain’t right. People are talking, then disappearing, and ol’Caesar is just trying to run a business, you hear?”

“Why are you telling me this and not the two Avengers behind you?” You hissed, leaning closer to him.

“Hey, watch the attitude, short stuff,” you leaned back in your chair, mouth slightly open. “Just because I listen don’t mean I know what’s going on,” you rolled your eyes. “My advice is keep your ears open and listen. Maybe you can figure out what’s going on before everything goes to shit.” He mumbled the last part and left before Sam and Rhodey joined you.

“Don’t listen to anything that nut job rambles about,” Rhodey said. “He’s got a few screws loose.” You smiled, giggling slightly. But what he said rattled you to your bones. What the hell was going on?

Caesar was saying goodbye to Sam and told him to not be a stranger. Your eyes wandered to the small arcade they had. There was a crane game filled with small rubber ducks. You walked over to it and looked at all the different duck variations - one was dressed like a police officer, and another had a book. But one that caught your eye was a duck wearing a green jersey with a soccer ball. It looked familiar. There was a memory deep within you but everything you tried to grab onto it slipped out of your fingers like water or smoke, the longer you stared at the dumb duck. “Hey, kid,” Rhodey said. “Are you ready?” You nodded, walking over to him.

“Bye Caesar,” you waved as Rhodey held open the door for you.

“See you around, short stuff,” you rolled your eyes and walked to the car.

“Short stuff, eh?” Rhodey teased. He got into the driver’s seat. You huffed, buckling into the back.

“Don’t even start,” he laughed as Sam finally got into the passenger seat.

“Sorry about that. Caesar likes to talk,” you giggled and Rhodey started the drive back home.

“That was a lot of fun,” you said to Sam as you exited the elevator to the common floor. “We should do that again.” Your smile faltered as Bucky turned around from his conversation with Maria. The color drained from his face as if he were looking at a ghost. He left without another word to you, Sam, or Maria.

“Okay,” Maria slowly said. “I wasn’t done talking to him.” You sighed.

“Not your fault, kid,” Sam smiled, resting his hand on your shoulder. “He just needs to get out of his head. I’ll go talk to him.” Before he turned to leave, he reached into this pocket and handed you a rubber duck. The same one you were looking at. Before you could say anything, he smiled and left.

“What was that about?” She questioned. You looked at the duck and put it in your pocket.

“It’s a long story,” you said. “Do you want the spark-notes version of the story?” She nodded. So, you gave her a short-handed version of the story you gave to the other Avengers. It was surprisingly easier.

“Shit,” you said. “I missed one hell of a party.” You rolled your eyes with a smile. “So,” she leaned back in her chair. “A little spider told me that I’m going to be training you. Are you thinking about joining this ragtag group? Fury said you did well in Overwatch .” You shrugged, tracing the random designs on the table.

“I don’t know,” you said. You weren’t against being an Avenger, maybe in a year or two but right now you weren’t ready. “I just want to get my powers under control so I don’t hurt myself or anyone else.” Maria smiled.

“I can help with that but I’m not gonna go easy on you just because you are Romanoff’s kid,” it wasn’t the first time someone at the tower referred to you as Natasha’s or Wanda’s kid but every time a warm feeling spread across your body. Your parents were never proud of you. They barely gave you enough to survive.

“I expect nothing less,” you said. “Can you teach me how to shoot a gun?”

“Stop asking people that,” Natasha said before Maria could answer. The Black Widow appeared behind you. You pouted which caused her to roll her eyes.

“Awe come on Nat,” Maria said. “Let the kid learn how to shoot. Are you afraid she’ll be better than you?” Natasha ruffled your hair.

“Yeah,” she deadpanned. “That’s exactly why I don’t want her shooting a gun,” you pushed her hand away and fixed your hair. “But we can teach her how to be safe around one.”

“How about we stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Maria hushed you.

“I’m wheeling and dealing for your benefit so hush,” she teased. You stuck out your tongue at her. Maria gasped. “Do you want to start training right now?”

“Children,” Natasha warned. “No fighting on the common floor. The last time a fight broke out we needed a new TV and a couch,” you giggled. “Come on, kid. Tony wants to have a meeting about your schooling.” You nodded. “We’ll figure out a training schedule that won’t conflict with her classes.” She said to Maria.

“Aye, aye captain,” she gave the Black Widow a salute. You smiled at the interaction.

“See you around, Maria,” you said and followed Natasha to Tony’s lab where Wanda was already there. You weren’t nervous. The test was the hard part of all of this and they were proud of how you did. But it was nice having the couple on either side of you as Tony rattled off a plan. The textbooks you needed were already ordered, minus a math textbook that he already had, and if you needed additional books for essays or projects he gave you a debit card to buy them. You didn’t bother putting up a fight with that. As for your ‘teachers’, Vision was going to help you with history, Bruce and Tony were for math and science, and your training with Maria counted as your physical education credit. The extracurricular would be business with Pepper and art with Steve, the two agreed to shadow you during those times. It seemed like a lot of work but you were ready to finally go to school and learn.

You had to get out of the tower. Every room you entered and Bucky so happened to be there, he left. It was a little maddening. So, you sat on the balcony with a textbook in your lap and the rubber duck in your hand. There was a part of you that was associating this duck with Bucky. But that couldn’t be correct. “Hi,” you spun around to see Steve walking over to you and hiding the duck underneath the book. You smiled at the blonde and looked at the book. You figured he was here to talk about Bucky. God, it felt like when you first moved to the tower. Instead of you running away, it was him. Steve sighed and sat down next to you. “Beautiful view,” he said, looking towards the city. “What are you doing up here?”

“Just reading,” you gestured to the book in your lap. It wasn’t the full truth but it got the point across.

“It’s about Buck, right?”

“I just don’t want him to be uncomfortable in his home,” you shrugged.

“It’s your home too,” he sat down next to you. That was true. You tapped your fingers on the page you were reading.

“He was here first,” Steve nodded and put his arms on the back of the chair. He didn’t continue the conversation so you went back to reading about ration language and how it was used to describe the association between two or more qualities. You were learning that you did not like math.

“Do you blame him for what he did to you?” Steve broke the silence. The question made you look up at the city. “It’s okay if do. The whole situation is so complicated. Complicated. That was one word that barely touched the surface to describe the relationship you had with Bucky Barnes.

“I don’t,” you softly said. You saw the super solider look away from the city but you kept your eyes trained on the skyline. “At first I did but we were both just trying to survive. It’s not our fault that some of the world is evil and we were subjected to it.” Steve chuckled and you looked at him.

“You’ve changed so much from that little girl that Wanda and Natasha brought to the tower,” he said while standing up.

“Wait, is that a good thing?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he kissed the top of your head. “A very good thing.”

As night fell on the tower, everyone seemed to be asleep except you and the former Winter Solider. His back was to you so he didn’t see you, which didn’t give him a chance to run away. “Do you want some hot chocolate?” The soldier jumped and spun around to look at you. “Don’t run from me, please,” you pleaded. You heard him sigh and stand up to join you in the kitchen. He sat on the island with his hands folded on the counter. You began the process of making the hot chocolate in silence. But you noticed he wasn’t looking at you, he stared at his hands as if he was afraid he was going to snap and hurt you. When the hot chocolate was done and topped with marshmallows and cinnamon, you pushed his mug over to him. He wouldn’t take it. You sipped on yours. “Are you okay, Bucky?” You asked. “I want to help but I can’t if you don’t tell me what I can do.”

“How can you be in the same room as me?” He softly asked. “After everything, I did to you.”

“That wasn’t you,” you simply said, sipping on your hot chocolate.

“I could have killed you,” he finally looked at you. Since last night, Bucky wouldn’t allow you to get this close to him. His eyes were bloodshot.

“No,” you firmly said. “The Winter Solider almost killed me. Bucky Barnes would never.” You held his stare, blue eyes locked onto yours until he looked away. “How much do you remember about our time together?” You asked. Bucky sighed.

“It comes and goes,” he said. “Like waves, crashing into me and I’m drowning.” You smiled, tracing the rim of your mug. The marshmallows were melted and stuck to your finger.

“Me too,” you admitted. “It wasn’t all bad.” You licked the marshmallow off your finger and put your hand in your pocket. “My brain clouded all the good with the bad. Do you want to hear one of the good ones?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “Please.” You smiled.

“I hadn’t seen you for a few days and I knew better than to ask about you because that resulted in a punishment,” he chuckled slightly. “One day I was brought into a room and you were there. I think they wanted you to train me and you did but I hurt my shoulder. I tried to hide my tears but you knelt at my level, whipped away my tears, and reached into your pocket,” you mimicked this part of your story and held out your hand. “And when you opened it, there was a little rubber duck.” You showed him the duck.

“What?” He questioned. “A rubber duck?” You smiled as the confusion was all over his face. “You’re making this up.”

“I’m not,” you laughed at the deadpanned look he was giving you. “I swear! Look I was equally confused when you handed it to me. It was a rubbed duck just like this one,” you placed it on the counter between you and him. When your laughter died down, your smile became sad. “When I destroyed the faculty, I tried to find it but it was destroyed in the fire.” Finally, he took a sip of his no longer hot chocolate and picked up the duck with his flesh hand.

“I need time to process the new memories,” you nodded.

“I got nothing but time,” you said. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “For the talk and the hot chocolate.”

“Of course,” you cleaned your mug. “Try to get some sleep. Good night.”

“Night, doll,” he said. But you knew sleep wasn’t going to be an option for you. Every time you closed your eyes, your past played out in front of you. It was like Yelena said, there was a scab over a wound you had and although it was healing every time you rubbed against it it hurt more. Your feet led you to the training area, and the sound of your footsteps echoed against the quiet room. It was weird being here when no one else was here. You could do anything without the watchful eyes of the Avengers. You could train, lift some weights, or go for a run. Instead, you walked over to the machine Tony and Bruce built you.

It was in the corner of the room, a white sheet over it that you took off and stared at the machine. Fingertips tracing every part of it. With a sigh, you took a few steps from it and faced the machine. You closed your eyes and let out a few deep breaths. When you open your eyes, you let out of stream of electricity towards the target. You only cut it off when the batteries were full but it wasn’t enough. So you replaced the full batteries with empty ones and did it again. And again. And again. Until your chest was heaving and your legs felt like jello. A yawn escaped your lips and you took it as your sign to be done. You recovered the machine and took a long walk back to your room.

As soon as your head hit the pillow, you fell into a dreamless sleep.

taglist: @aestruvx, @toouncreativeforausername, @modedddd, @julilamoment, @mythixmagic, @yourmamacom, @vicmc624, @cherlenovix, @liliesandrosies, @whitewidowsbite, @clintsbigtoe, @blackbirdv98@arualdcg@yoyo-w @natbelovasblog, @johnnyhulu, @blackwidow-3, @theenglishswiftie, @faith-olsen

#lightning bug #wandanat x y/n #wandanat x reader #wandanat x daughter #wandanat x you #wandanat x daughter!reader #wandanat #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #maria hill x reader #sam wilson x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #bucky barnes x reader #rhodey x reader

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lovebugism · 4 months

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BUG WRITES CUSTOMIZED FICS !

hi there! feel like getting a personalized love story with your favorite character written by your favorite broke college student, (*cough cough*) me? then you're in the right place!

--- i've been thinking about doing this for a while now, and since i'm nearing graduation (*repulsive garbage disposal cough*), i figured there's no time like the present!

with that being said, i am now writing private personalized fics for stranger things, marvel, ted lasso, and star wars for those who send in donations! i've tried to answer as many questions about this whole debacle as i can below!

here is my tip jar, and here is the link to the google form.

✶ MORE DETAILS BELOW THE CUT! ✶

q: well, how does this whole thing even work? a: i've created a fillable form here that goes through everything i'll need to write for you (plot/character description, payment, etc.). i should note here that i only accept donations through venmo and ko-fi, since that's what works best for me at the moment! please do not send your request as an ask, because it will get lost!

q: what exactly do you mean by private fics? a: instead of posting the personalized fic directly onto my tumblr, i will ship it right to you in the form of a google doc! since it is private, i only ask that you do not repost it on any other site (tumblr, ao3, etc.) this little love story is for your eyes and your eyes only!

q: who are you gonna write for then? a: my speciality as of right now is eddie munson and steve harrington. however, i'm expanding my horizons specifically for those who donate! with that being said, i will write for any stranger things character, as well as marvel, ted lasso, and star wars character (as long as said character is of age, of course!)

q: .......what about smut? a: yes, i will be writing smut! it will cost extra ($2 USD) because it's a little harder to write and takes a bit longer do, so please keep that in mind! (also, please note that i won't write for noncon, watersports, or violence-related scenarios. but other than that, feel free to go wild!)

q: what's it gonna cost me though? a: the cost varies depending on word count, as you'll see in the form. the pricing is as follows: ⋆ ~100 words – $1 ⋆ 200-999 words – $3 ⋆ 1,000-1,999 words – $5 ⋆ 2,000-4,999 words – $10 ⋆ 5,000+ words – $20

q: and how do the donations work exactly? a: as stated previously, i accept donations through venmo and ko-fi. you can check the pricing above, donate your preferred amount, and then fill out the form accordingly. so for example, if you donate $5, that will be a 1k word fic -- but remember, if you want a 1k word fic with smut, that will be an extra $2, so $7 in total). the payment is upfront, so if that makes you uncomfortable, shoot me an ask and we can work something out! if i have trouble writing your request or the writing time is longer than expected, refunds will be issued! also, if i happen to go over the word count you selected, you will not be charged extra.

q: and how will i receive my personalized love story? a: your fic will be sent to your messages as a google doc link. after your payment, i will send you the initial draft of your request in 1-10 days (depending on the length of your fic). after receiving your modifications (if any), i'll send you the final draft (again, to your tumblr messages, as a google doc link).

q: is there a limit to how many donations i can send in? a: no! feel free to send in as many as requests as you fancy! just remember to donate for each form you submit!

✶ WHO I'LL WRITE FOR !

--- keep in mind this is not a definitive list, just the characters i feel most comfortable writing for! if your character is not on this list, shoot me an ask before donating just to make sure!

stranger things:

eddie munson

steve harrington

robin buckley

nancy wheeler

jonathan byers

argyle

jim hopper

murray bauman

marvel:

bucky barnes

loki laufeyson

helmut zemo

yelena belova

kate bishop

steve rogers

ted lasso:

jamie tartt

roy kent

will kitman

ted lasso

star wars:

poe dameron

kylo ren

din djarin

rey

finn

han solo

obi-wan kenobi

well, i think that's about it... if there's anything else you're unsure about, my ask box/messages are always open! i can't wait to write for you guys (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

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luckycl0ve · 8 months

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i try to remember the wrath of the devil was also given him by god

#oooooooooo oooooo oooooo oooo ooooooooooh #Bucky Barnes #Bucky #Winter Soldier #stream bug like an angel. so that you can hear bug like an angel. by recording artist mitski #caption is me getting through this. gestures all round me #and him too!! just like me fr. whagever

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bugsandcoffee · 1 year

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Lawyer Bucky meets the handsome mechanic Steve when his car breaks down. He ends up getting much more fixed than just his car.

#stucky #stevebucky #stuckyedit #a bug's creations #steve rogers x bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barnes #chris evans #sebastian stan

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zoyaofthegardvn · 1 year

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is anyone else’s tumblr just not working properly at all lmao? like i cannot read any fics bc every single link i click into it takes me into web browser and not the app, and when i click the open in the app button it just won’t work. im so sad :( ive been trying to reread some of my fave fics and i cant. i genuinely haven’t read any fics in a while because of this issue. tumblr wtf??

also adding random tags to this just to see if ppl are having the same issue!

#azriel x reader #throne of glass #sarah j maas #shadow and bone #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #manon blackbeak x reader #zoya nazyalensky x reader #eris vanserra x reader #harry styles x reader #tumblr problems #tumblr bugs #bucky barnes x reader

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workingdownthewordmine · 2 months

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Love Thy Neighbour - Chapter 1 Behind Closed Doors

Set adrift by his own choosing, Bucky goes home to the abandoned apartment he grew up in, but perhaps it isn't as abandoned as he first thought.

Read it on AO3 here.

Chapter 2

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes Rating: T CW: blood, threat Prompts filled: Fandom-Free Bingo Frosty Edition (card 1): Cuddling to stay warm @fandom-free-bingo Fandom-Free Bingo Flight Edition: Anonymous gifts Fluffbruary: Day 2 - Scent, Day 16 - Neighbour @fluffbruary Seasonal Delights Language of Flowers: Calla lily @seasonaldelightsbingo Multifandom-Flash Round 1: A scar to remember @multifandom-flash

Dividers by @cafekitsune

“The Bible tells us to love our neighbors, and also to love our enemies; probably because generally they are the same people.”

G.K. Chesterton

Bucky came and went via the fire escape that he’d carefully mangled on his second night back there, a relic of his childhood now inaccessible to anyone who couldn’t bend cast iron or jump 6ft straight up. Didn’t account for at least half of the people he actually knew, sure, including the guy he’d most often climbed it with, but seemed effective so far at keeping out random squatters. Not real charitable, he guessed, locking down an entire apartment building to himself somewhere so many people lacked even a roof to call shelter but he never signed up for them to be his problem. And he liked not being disturbed. Other things he liked included not thinking too hard about some of the stranger aspects of the building he was once again calling home. In spite of the housing shortage, he guessed it might not be so weird that no one had gotten round to tearing the place down in all these years, and to judge by the disintegrating newspapers he’d found tacked up as draft excluders the building hadn’t been inhabited since the 80s. But why was the gas still connected? No electricity, far as he could tell without knocking more holes in the walls than he thought the place could take without crumbling, but the water was still running.

Those mysteries had come clearer after he found the first camera. It had been pretty well camouflaged by a dense cobweb that looked dyed black by half a century of city smog – fuck knew how the asshole had managed that. He’d never have spotted it if he hadn’t caught the whine of tiny servos or something when he passed it. He’d panicked, smashed the thing, torn around the building searching for more. As he bore down on the third, it spoke to him. “Hey Terminator, point’s taken. Quit breaking my stuff. Drop the others in the mailbox and I’ll have them picked up.” He had dropped them in the mailbox. But he’d taken a certain joy in crushing them as small as he could before he did so. Oops. Sorry, Stark. It made him itchy for a while to think of Stark having anything to do with his habitation – hadn’t he turned down a space at the compound because he wanted out of barracks controlled by someone else? But, fuck it, if the nerd had nothing better to do with his billions than pay Bucky’s bills he might as well let him. And now he was back, he didn’t fancy leaving.

This last week his resolve was being tested. It had started with the smell. He knew the odours of sweat and blood well enough, and he knew that neither had been coming from the back apartment when he left for work. He’d been back there, of course, on his initial homecoming perimeter check and again on his hunt for Stark’s bugs. The place had been as deserted as the rest of the building, inhabited by nothing more sinister than rats, roaches, and a few pigeons. He needed to check again. He also needed to stop and fucking think. He was half way over the sill before he remembered it had taken an hour’s scrubbing for him to get more than a bit of half-assed light through his own apartment’s grimy windows. From the outside? No chance. It would have to be the hallway.

With the generator humming and the wireless playing (somehow even now he struggled to think of it as the digital gadget it was), giving all the impression that he was still in his own apartment, he edged out into the hall. He winced at the minute change in the air pressure when he opened the door. But the only people likely to drop-by unannounced who would notice something like that would either have taken more care with their smell or would have said hi. Unless it was deliberate bait. Ten feet to the next door. A longer step over the cracked floorboard that had groaned ominously the first time he’d crossed it.

The smell of the intruder grew stronger as he approached the door. The ancient lock hadn’t given him much difficulty when he took his original look around but the door was heavy and he shifted it with care. He wished he’d thought to oil the hinges, or pulled the door right off them. Aging lino crackled silently beneath his feet. His own heartbeat filled his ears and gradually he remembered how to breathe and move, even blink, in time with it, aligning the sounds he made so anything that fell outside the rhythm would instantly draw his attention. He remained alone with the soundtrack of his own body.

He knew he was just short of silent as he passed from room to room, every sense trained for the least disturbance... so when the affronted pigeon erupted from behind the bathroom door raising a fetid cloud of feathers and dust, it took him effort not to swallow his own tongue. He tried to inhale as little as possible of the heavily pigeon-laced air while he let his heartrate settle and watched the bird panic at the narrow window until it finally burst out into the gathering evening gloom. The bird’s distress must have been audible to anyone else in the otherwise silent apartment but nothing and no-one stirred. He lowered his guard a degree as he made his way around the few other rooms. His search was thorough, every cupboard opened, the sparse remains of furniture eased away from the walls. No one.

The thought that it might have been his imagination haunted him from hall to kitchen. He shook the hair from his eyes and touched a cold wrist to his forehead, trying to remember exactly. The smell lingering in the hall. He was sure. Wasn’t he? He shivered. But the air in here felt disturbed, didn’t it? By more than a pigeon and his own cat-like steps? There was a taint on the air – garbage? He crossed, moving more quickly now, to the window that overlooked the alley and its tideless sea of detritus. The smell hit him harder as he stepped into the cold air that hung in front of the window. The glass was uncracked and no draft would be creeping around that deeply dirt-caked frame. He tested the sash. Grime and old paint wouldn’t resist him but it might hold out longer than the decrepit frame. A little more pressure. He hissed between his teeth when the window rose, barely sticking or rattling in its grooves.

He was crouched below the sill before conscious thought could catch up.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Dumbass.

How long had he been stood in full view of any of half a dozen rooftops and twice as many windows? Long enough for a whole squad of snipers to take their shots. Again he let his pulse regulate and raised his head a fraction. No one had shot. And as thorough a survey as he could make of the surrounding area, stopping to scrutinise every spot he would have selected for his own firing position, showed him nothing suspicious – not a movement or a shadow out of place. Nothing, in fact, to cause him concern. Until he drew his gaze back into the room, and down over the smear of blood on the peeling paper below the windowsill. He sank down. A knee had brushed the wall as the other leg lifted to the sill. And, yes, now he could see the pattern of new chips in the old paint where a foot had braced. He returned to the blood. A fair stain. The size of his palm. A significant wound, but not enough to keep the victim from climbing or to force them to staunch the blood with a hand. He gave the window another look as he closed it. No trace of a bloody fingerprint.

Bucky returned to his own apartment troubled. He could nail up the windows as he’d done downstairs. He had enough supplies for that, sure. From his seat where Winnie Barnes’ spotless kitchen table had once stood, he glanced at the stack of salvaged wood in his mom’s bedroom. She’d be spinning in her grave if he didn’t get it cleared out of there soon. And with a bit more work he could probably make the windows virtually unreachable by climbing too.

He picked up the M38 that stood on its stock beside him and began checking it over again. The thing was... He found himself picturing the boarded up back apartment – dark and silent rooms in which his neighbours had once laughed and rowed and rushed to get out the door for work. The thing was... that, if he forced whoever had gone to the trouble to climb into the second floor of his building to move off permanently, they were unlikely to lose interest. He would either have to hunt them down – so much for the quiet life – or he would be waiting for a bullet through the head or worse until they made themselves known one way or another. That didn’t exactly sound like a peaceful retirement either, did it? And the thing was... he’d felt his heart beating back there.

Whatever he did about apartment 4, he wasn’t as safe in here as he’d let himself believe for a while. That needed fixing tonight.

This was his last stop, rucksack already bulging. He heaped the coils of fishing line and bungee cords on the clerk’s desk. The guy’s eyebrows rose when Bucky dropped a couple of handfuls of personal attack alarms on top of the pile. “Stocking fillers. For my self-defence class,” he offered. His cheeks heated a little when the man glanced at the glossy and explicit calendar behind his shoulder which read “February” without offering the least apology for the embarrassment caused. Bucky followed its example and stared blankly, defying contradiction.

Supplies secured, he disregarded his fire escape and entered by his bedroom window, hauling his way up by the well-concealed handholds he’d made on his way out, scooping out lines of mortar with Vibranium fingertips. He paused on the windowsill to delicately pluck the rudimentary tripwire free and by-pass the edged weaponry that would otherwise have made a spirited attempt to ruin his good looks. He’d considered using a few grenades, but decided it wouldn’t be worth the clean-up. He had enough structural damage to repair around the building as it was. He did a quick round of the other possible entrances, but all were untouched, their makeshift defences untriggered. Finally, he wormed his way up inside the crumbling wall cavity to retrieve one or two personal items he hadn’t been able to leave on display to any sightseer or would-be hit squad but could also not carry freely around Brooklyn, his rifle chief amongst them. He’d read a couple of Stark’s James Bond novels when he’d been insufferably bored in the Tower. Why did that guy’s weapons all fit up a sleeve or his ass or something? When his requisitions came through the British civil service? Stark, SHIELD, and Hydra should all be fucking embarrassed to be lagging so far behind.

With the limited supplies he’d had on hand, protecting his personal domain had taken precedence. Once he’d made a more professional job of his fortifications, he loaded up some materials and headed back into the corridor. And stopped.

Something was on the floor outside of number four. Something whose colour and life stood out in the dingy shadows. He went closer and looked down at the leafy plant in its bright striped pot, its three white trumpet-like flowers gazing right back at him. Surely, only a lunatic or a child could like a combination of sunflower yellow, electric blue, and that alarmingly neon pink? A folded paper dropped as he picked up the plant. The handwriting inside was almost as childish as the colour scheme, printed in biro comfortably rounded and neat – something about it made Bucky momentarily picture the writer’s tongue poking out between their teeth as they worked.

“Hey neighbour, sorry if I bothered you this afternoon.

Got you a housewarming present as an apology. Hope you like it!”

It was unsigned, though they’d made no apparent attempt to disguise their handwriting. He glared at the door. It hung slightly askew, and would do – of course – until he was done with the repairs to his own place and made a start on the rest of the apartments. Well, if he was honest with himself, he’d have to get started on his own apartment first of all. Nothing stirred beyond the door. He tucked the note back into the pot and went thoughtfully back up the corridor. He found the plant a spot by a window and stood staring at it for a full minute, waiting for an explosion or maybe some kind of toxic spore cloud – though maybe the latter was kind of cartoonish even for his usual enemies. The plant did nothing sinister. Its dark glossy leaves shone slightly in the light of the sunset.

Bucky took his M38 up to the roof with him that evening and stayed low for a few minutes, circling in a crouch and checking out his surroundings, but in the end the distant roar of the city lulled him just as it always had. On his third circuit, he touched his fingertips to the chimney stack where he and Steve had scraped their initials, taking turns with Bucky’s new penknife. Smog and pigeons had done their best to obliterate the deep, angular “JBB” and the lighter, neater “SGR”, but Bucky had done his best to restore them the first time he’d come back up here. They’d huddled together against the stack for warmth, watching the stars and hoping Stevie’s dad wouldn’t turn up to drag him home this time, Bucky’s arm usually wrapped round his best friend’s skinny shoulders to stop him shivering.

He’d dismantled the lower part of the fire escape after his search for the intruder but when it came time to remove their old route to temporary freedom... no, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Fuck it, anyway – anyone determined enough to get onto his roof, with no way to cover the first twenty feet, wouldn’t be put off by a little thing like a missing fire escape. So, he wondered as he settled down with his back to the long-cold chimney and let his gaze wander out over the Hudson, who would got to so much trouble to infiltrate his safe house, just to leave a smear of blood and a goddamn house plant? “Neighbour”? If they were a local, why had he never had any inkling of someone interested in the place? He’d been vigilant enough. Passers-by mostly treated the condemned and wire-fenced pile as though it wasn’t even there. Like it was as invisible to them as it was irrelevant. Just a relic. Hah. A ghost story.

A last glimpse of the sunset flashed off his fingers. He rolled his shoulders and hissed between his teeth. It was bad tonight, but he would have to do without the pills. If there was still someone prowling around he wouldn’t risk being caught sleeping too deeply. He eased his left shoulder; knotted scar tissue stretched like exposed sinew, raw as a live wire. No, he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. No fear on that score. He tapped his knuckles against the wall and knocked free a triangle of cement. He bounced it on his palm. He and Steve had thrown so many of these it was a wonder there was any building left. Steve’s had almost always fallen short of any mark he chose, of course, though Buck had sworn blind he’d seen them hit more than once when his buddy’s spirits needed a lift. Hundreds had dropped into the alley below, sometimes raising angry shouts that sent them laughing into cover before anyone could spot their faces silhouetted overhead. The fragment exploded into dust against a raised air vent three buildings over and Bucky grinned to himself as he swung over the edge of the roof and returned home.

For @heretherebewolves, my inspiration.

#written by Bug #actual writing #fanfiction #fandom: marvel #Bucky Barnes #Rating: T #fandomfreebingo #seasonaldelightsbingo #languageofflowersbingo #fluffbruary #multifandomflash #round 1 #day 2 Engagement/Scent/Jam #day 16 Neighbour/Desire/Horse

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bisamwilson · 10 months

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Hi! Sambucky + #6, pretty please?

thanks for the ask <3 #6: things you said under the stars and in the grass (from this list)

There's a firefly within reaching distance, so it shouldn't be any surprise to Bucky that Sam automatically reaches up towards it.

He doesn't catch it like Bucky expects him to, like Bucky'd seen him do with Cass and AJ on warm summer nights down in Delacroix, but just lets his hands hover a few inches away until it blinks off outward into the night. Sam's arms fall back down to his stomach.

"You know how a lot of people get seasick when they're lying out on a boat?" Sam asks, a tinge of melancholy in his voice that doesn't match the lazy haze of the night. He doesn't look over to see if Bucky nods, but he does anyway. "Sometimes I think I've got the opposite of that. Watching the stars from solid ground feels wrong in a way I can't really explain."

They'd been in upstate New York for entirely too long, training some of the new kids at the compound to teach them how to work as a team, along with Sam training Joaquín on some of the more advanced techniques with the wings. Bucky's even starting to feel a little homesick for Delacroix, for the allure of Sarah's living room couch, so he can't imagine how much Sam must miss it.

"I heard Cass won his little league game last night," Bucky says, knowing both that talking about his nephews tends to take Sam's mind off of things and that the reminder that Bucky texts Sarah on occasion now might be enough to playful irritate the melancholy away for a while.

Sam huffs a laugh out of his nose and turns his head to look at Bucky, his eyebrow raised. "Man, what did I tell you about talking to my sister?"

Bucky makes an exaggerated show of putting his hands behind his head and getting comfortable, keeping his gaze fixed on the sky above him. "No flirting involved, I swear," he says in a cheeky voice that implies the exact opposite. He's fully aware Sam knows any amount of flirting with Sarah is playful by now, a fun way for both of them to tease Sam considering how obvious it is to everyone around that Bucky's got it bad for Sam himself.

They haven't really crossed any lines on that front yet, even though Bucky's almost positive it's mutual, but they both know they're driving towards it at a pretty steady pace.

Sam reaches over and pushes him gently, and Bucky makes an even bigger show of lurching to the side. "Ignoring the fact that you were absolutely flirting with my sister, yeah, Cass did win his little league game last night. They're going to some kind of tournament in NOLA next week, and he spent like an hour on FaceTime with me last night telling me about all of the stuff he's planning to pack and all of the places he wants to go visit while they're already in town."

Sam smiles to himself with that soft, sweet smile that always makes Bucky's heart flutter in his chest before his grin drops just enough to notice if you're looking.

Bucky's always looking.

"He asked me if I could go watch him and I told him I'd try, but it feels like just about every day there's something new to teach the kids or some new urgent mission to fly out to. Sarah said she'd tape the whole thing for me, but it's still not the same, you know?"

Perhaps bringing up the baseball game wasn't Bucky's best move, he thinks.

Sam sighs and rolls back over on his back for just a moment before pushing himself upright and standing up, lightly brushing off his shorts. "We should probably head inside. Gettin' kinda late, and we have kids to teach tomorrow."

There's a grumpy retort about having to teach these new overpowered children on the tip of Bucky's tongue, but he holds it back and just shakes his head. "You go ahead. I'll catch up soon."

Sam's eyebrows knit together, but he doesn't press. "Night, Buck. Sleep tight."

"Night, Sammy," he replies softly, when Sam's a little too far away to hear.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and notes the late hour, but he figures Sharon's probably still up, so he dials her number anyways.

"You know business hours don't extend till eleven PM, right, Bucky?" she asks in lieu of a hello.

He thinks about teasing her about her time running a nightclub in the midst of a stolen art selling operation that definitely stayed open past normal business hours, but he decides against it. "Hey, Sharon? Any way that Sam could get this weekend off? Cass has a baseball game."

She hums. "You willing to tag in if the world catches fire?"

Bucky looks off in the direction that Sam had walked off in. "For Sam? Always."

#i am from the south so i say lightning bugs instead of fireflies by the way #but bucky is not so firefly it is no matter how much it pained me to write it #anyways here's a bit of homesick sam and bucky takes care of sam for your wednesday #thanks for the ask!!#sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #otp: i’m coming with you #onlysambucky #only sambucky #buckysam #sam wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sam wilson #winterfalcon #mak writes #ask #funsized-loser #marvel

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buckys-little-belle · 2 years

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for the next steve and bug part can we see some angst mayve? i’m also a big regressor and sometimes people are meanies. because i’m a boy they say i’m not a little, and i just want steve to hold me and say otherwise. is that an okay idea?

Cafe BigNSmall - Steve Rogers (Chapter Two)

My Big Sunflower

Steve x Little!Reader (He/Him Pronouns)

Warnings - Bug cries, people are mean, Bug is called invalid in his regression, it’s a lie, Steve makes sure Bug knows he’s very valid as a regressor, it’s a mix of some serious fluff, and yet some serious angst.

Notes - I just want to say this, send those mean people my way, you are so valid in your regression! Never let anyone tell you otherwise! There is no perfect age, size, gender, lack of gender, anything, there are no limits on who can regress, no one is more valid than another, and no one should make you feel otherwise. If you ever need a virtual hug, high-five, forehead kiss, a pump up speech, a anything, you come to me, I love all of you, and all of you are valid.

Notes - I used not only the Anon message/request as a plot line in this chapter but also a concept created in the beautiful brain of @little--baby--bear ! A concept we both freaked out over together, so thank you to the both of your for helping shape this chapter! <3

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW

- - - - - -

Bug was excited, he loved seeing Steve at the Cafe, the conversations always full of laughter and joy. Sure it had only been two days since he had met this tall and seemingly perfect caregiver at the Cafe, but Bug had a good and genuine feeling about him.

“Hi!” Bug cheered to the barista as he walked in, his yellow rain coat on, as a precaution, and his bag slung over his shoulder. “Can I get a -“ He started, soon cut off by a louder and deeper voice from behind him.

“An orange juice, and a Black coffee please.” Steve smiled, stepping beside Bug and pulling out his wallet, offering the cash to the barista who smiled back.

“Of course.” They said, getting started on the drinks, leaving Bug and Steve to say ‘hello’.

“I can buy m’own juice.” Bug protested, his wallet already in his hand, ready to be opened.

“I know.” Steve laughed. “But I like buying you juice, it makes me feel useful.” He offered, a wide smile still plastered on his face.

“I jus’ feel.” Bug paused, searching for the right word. “Useless a little.” He mumbled, embarrassed about not feeling equally helpful, but also embarrassed for complaining about the clearly nice gesture.

Steve looked shocked. “You make my day better every time I see you.” Steve said, his body turning fully towards Bug as he talked. “I would say that’s very helpful.” He added.

“Really?” Bug asked, genuinely wondering if Steve meant what he said.

“Yes.” He laughed. “I’m not lying, I haven’t been this happy in a while.” He said, his words slightly full of sorrow.

Bug reached out and grabbed Steve’s hand, unable to come up with the right words, offering a small physical gesture instead.

Steve felt his gut clench in both happiness, but also sadness, he wanted this, a little of his own, but he still felt inadequate in a way. Maybe Bug just got scared randomly, or some other very reasonable excuse as to why he grabbed Steve’s hand, but he didn’t want to explore the possible ideas, instead he chose to stay in this moment, giving Bug’s hand a slight squeeze.

“Steve.” The barista called, knowing his name as they got more aquatinted. “Your drinks.”

Steve thanked them, regretfully letting go of Bug’s hand to grab both drinks, his head nodding at Bug to lead the way to their table.

Bug walked forward, sitting in his booth, placing his bag on the table, getting ready to take out the book he brought, a book of flowers, so Steve could pick his favourite. “Here Y/n.” Steve said, handing Bug his orange juice, sitting in his own booth, placing the cup of coffee down as he got settled.

“I brought the flower book!” Bug cheered, making Steve look towards the brown bag placed on the table. A new circular pin placed next to a few worn down ones.

“What’s this?” Steve asked, pointing to the pin that looked scarily similar to the one on his jacket.

“Oh.” Bug mumbled, turning his bag over to hide the pin, a little embarrassed that Steve had seen it. “‘s a pin.” He paused. “Like yours.” Bug said quietly, pointing to Steve’s pin, taking a sip of his juice as a way to hide his face.

Steve was stunned, Bug had got a pin just like Steve’s, why? He wasn’t sure, but clearly it was a good thing right?”

“I can get rid of it, if you want.” Bug offered, flipping his bag over once more, reaching to remove the pin from his bag, ready to hand it over or throw it out.

“No!” Steve announced, his hand flinging towards Bug’s. “No.” He said, this time with a little more composure. “I like it.” Steve said, a smile adorning his face. “I’m sad I don’t have a pin that matches one of yours.” He added, pointing to the random pins that were also on Bug’s bag.

The pins were old, they had come with the bag, a good deal from a local thrift store. Some pins were other countries flags, some band pins, and a couple of old rusted flowers. To be honest Bug had meant to replace them with new ones, but hadn’t found any good ones. That is until the shield pin had been on display in a downtown comic store, the new shiny metal pin replacing an old bands pin that had been on his bag for years.

“I don’t even know where these pins came from.” Bug confessed, hoping Steve didn’t think the random pins were weird. “I just like to play with them sometimes, I jus’ need to replace them.” He explained, his fingers grazing the pins.

‘Maybe I can help with that.’ Steve thought, his mind racing with pins he could get. And maybe he would, he just needed some time.

- - - - - -

Y/n and Steve didn’t meet up the next day, their schedules not aligning, so the meeting two days later felt more sincere. The pair genuinely missing the others company for more than 24 hours.

Steve got to the Cafe early, too antsy to wait any longer, the table now taken up by himself, Bug’s juice, two coffees, one empty and one half full, as well as a small gift bag. The bag yellow with matching tissue paper over flowing the top. A smile had be permanently on his face for the past hour that he had been waiting. His leg bouncing in anticipation.

“Sorry.” He heard from behind him, the timid voice coming from the front of the Cafe. “I don’, I’m not.” The voice stuttered, eerily sounding familiar.

“What?” A different voice laughed back. “You think you’re a little?” The voiced mocked, it’s words laced with venom.

“I.” Steve recognized the voice and stood up. Causing the Cafe to look away from the previous commotion, their eyes now on Steve.

Bug stood grasping his bag, his eyes filled with tears, a few trailing down his face, a woman standing in front of him in line, the owner of the mocking voice. “You okay Bug?” Steve asked, out of breath, unsure of how to approach the situation.

Bug shook his head as a laugh rang out. The woman not seeing how distressed Bug was, only seeing a close to seething man stood a few feet away from her. “He’s fine, he’s a big boy, he can handle it.”

Bug let out a quiet sob, his shoulders slumping in, his demeanour defeated. “He’s a little.” The barista spoke up, trying to diffuse the situation. The woman scoffed. “And I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” The barista spoke again, the woman looking at them as if they had done something horrible, the woman getting ready to argue, looking around to find support from onlookers, only to be met with distasteful looks. The woman clearly in the wrong, she left before things got worse.

Steve finally spoke up. “Bug come here.” He called, his arms opening, Bug running into them, his face now smooshed into Steve’s chest, his sobs finally leaving his body. Steve wrapped his arms around him in a protective manor, giving Bug a quick kiss atop his head. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He whispered, hugging Bug as tight as possible, Bug squeezing back.

“‘m sorry.” Bug whispered, just loud enough for the super soldier to hear.

“No.” Steve whispered back. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Bug pulled back at those words, looking at Steve with wet eyes. “I mean it.” Steve said, as if he had read Bugs mind.

The two sat down at their booth. Bug wiping away his tears as he sipped his juice. “Thank you, for being here.” Bug said. Steve knew what he meant, having someone to support you in hard times was most likely new for Bug, and he was happy to show Bug that people cared about him, and would stand up and stand with him.

“Of course.” Steve smiled, taking a sip of his drink as well before clearing his throat. “I have something for you.” He said joyfully, clearly excited, sliding the bag towards Bug.

Bug smiled back, analyzing the bag before pulling back the tissue paper, neatly placing it beside the bag. He pulled out a small pin, a little bumble bee pin. “It’s a bee!” He squealed. His face pure joy.

“Keep going.” Steve laughed, eagerly watching as Bug pulled out the next pin, this one an exact copy of the previous Bee pin. “One for you, and one for me.” He explained.

“I love them.” Bug said, passing Steve a pin as he examined his own, removing an old pin from his bag, putting it in an inside pocket, and replacing it with the new one. Steve placing his pin on his jacket, next to the shield pin.

“I’m glad you like it my little scientist.” Steve beamed.

“Thank you my big sunflower.” Bug responded, still playing with his new pin, Steve laughing at the nickname.

So there they sat, Bug and Steve, at their table, with their matching pins, ready for whatever the Cafe had in store for them next. Whether it be good or bad, they had each other, always.

#anon #buckys little belle #age regression fic #little!reader #age regression #bug and steve #steve rogers age regression #steve rogers x little reader #steve x little reader #steve rogers x little!reader #steve x male reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers

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itiswormtimebaby · 10 months

Text

Here’s what I’m thinking about:

Biker!Bucky (who also happen to be your brothers best friend) fucking your thighs.

TW: 18+ oral (fem receiving), pussy job, thigh job, virgin reader (Bucky is very into it), no piv No YN, Reader is referred to as Bug and is described as being plus size but there are no other physical descriptors. Takes place after Biker!Bucky comforts you when you get way too high.

Things had shifted after that blessedly damned brownie but despite all the begging you’d done for Bucky to finally split you open and take you apart on his cock he was valiant in his efforts to take it slow. Slow somehow including licking into your mouth at the back of a movie theater while two knuckles deep, having you ride his thigh at the food truck festival, and spending countless hours in bed between your spread thighs.

It’s where you are now, the soft cotton of Bucky’s bedspread dampening under your sweat soaked skin, his tongue working sinful circles over your swollen nub causing you to clench, almost painfully, down on the two fingers he’s currently working you open on.

And jesus fuck there’s enough slick dripping past them and onto your thighs for him to drown in; he’d happily go that way, buried face first in the creamy mess you’ve left just for him.

Alternatively you could just smother him with your thighs, fuck, your thighs- his brain feels like mush as he turns his head just enough to begin placing wet open mouthed kisses to the soft skin of your right thigh, laving and nipping at each stretch mark as he moves across them, furthering wetting his face with you as he does so. He grunts as you pull particularly hard at his hair, arching your back and trying to redirect his mouth to your clit but he ignores you as he begins to lick long stripes across the meat of your thighs, tasting musk and salt and something unconventionally sweet.

This could be the day, he thinks, your mewls going straight to his dick. He could finally fuck you open, carve out that space inside he now knows you’ve been saving just for him, claim you but-

“Bu-u-ucky!” Your whine sounds nearly petulant, still wiggling to try and get his mouth back on you, “please!” But no, no you’re not ready yet.

Instead he sits back on his haunches, watching for a moment as his fingers disappear and reappear as he fucks you with them, each thrust a little harder than the last before his hands find their way up your body, spreading slick across the ample swell of your stomach before he’s cupping your face and half pulling your upper body off the bed to meet him in a filthy open mouthed kiss.

“Let’s try something new, Bug.”

You release a soft oomph as he pushes you back on the bed with little ceremony, back flat. You rub your thighs together in sweet anticipation, the sound of his belt buckle coming undone making you whimper, this could be it, this could be it, this could be-

But no, instead of pressing the spongy head of his cock inside of you he uses it to circle your clit, thumb guiding it around and around before he begins to languidly thrust his cock through the messy lips of your gushing pussy. The flat length of it provides a friction like you’ve never felt before, your gasps and moans joining in with Bucky’s labored breathing each time the tip nudges your clit on each up stroke. After a few minutes of this, of clenching painfully around nothing, awareness only awarded to the pleasure he gives you and the pain he causes by leaving you empty inside, he pushes both of your thighs up to rest on your plush stomach and begins to fuck them.

There’s no other way to describe it. Bucky is fucking your thighs, he’s gripping them painfully tight, pushing them together, and driving his length in and out between them, plenty lubricated by the slick that continues to escape you. The tip of his cock still manages to kiss your clit at each stroke. You're delirious with pleasure, keening and moaning and raking your nails down whatever bit of inked skin you can reach, and though his cock feels like heaven between your thighs it’s his voice that ultimately sends you over;

“Fuck, Bug” he rasps “Fuck, Bug, you feel so good, my beautiful girl- my-Fuck”

His dark hair is limp against his forehead, plastered to it by his own sweat, and his mouth, that sinful mouth is still glistening with proof of his devotion to your pleasure as he continues to talk you through it.

“If it feels this good now just- fuck, just think about when I’ve got you stuffed full of my cock. Christ, I can’t wait, I’m going to fucking ruin you, Bug.”

With one particularly hard nudge from the head of his cock to your clit you let go with a cry, something that vaguely sounds like his name and has him also reaching his end, painting the messy lips of your pussy white with his cum.

#bucky barnes x reader #biker!bucky #bucky/reader #bucky barnes smut #plus sized reader #hwita #brother's best friend bucky #bucky and bug

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suprsaturatd · 10 months

Text

Shrimps is bugs.

#embroidery #hand embroidery #diy #shrimp #shrimps is bugs #sewing #shitpost #shitpost embroidery #shitpost sewing #visible mending #solarpunk #bucky crafts #bucky sews

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disneyweirdness · 1 year

Photo

Dan O’Neill’s Comics and Stories Vol. 1 #3

The Air Pirates Phantom Blot is 100% canon as far as I’m concerned.

#air pirates #phantom blot #dan o'neill #dan o'neill's comics and stories #underground comix #bucky bug #mickey mouse

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arlana-likes-to-write · 11 months

Text

Lightning Bug - Chapter 18

Master list

Warning: this chapter mentions self-harm and a depressive episode for our reader. Lots of angst.

Word Count: 4.3k

“Any changes?” Natasha asked her girlfriend as she walked into the kitchen, an empty bowl in her hands.

“She ate better than yesterday,” she put the plate in the sink. “But she still hasn’t said a word.” It seemed to be the trend. The young girl stayed locked in her room since the car incident. That was 3 days ago. They feared that they were gonna have to get Helen involved because of her lack of eating but she began to eat what Wanda brought her.

“I’m getting worried,” Kate said, playing with the spider-shaped necklace around her neck. It was a gift from Yelena when the couple first started dating. Yelena wore an arrow, similar to the one that Clint gifted Natasha. But the Black Widow was getting worried too. She even called Laura asking for advice. The mother of three gave the best advice she could, being a little out of her element since her three didn’t have powers.

“She needs to work through this,” Natasha said. “And when she’s ready we’ll be here to catch her.” The whole tower seemed to be affected by it. But America seemed to have taken it the hardest, spending more time at the Sanctum and traveling the multiverse. The elevator opened and Maria walked out, holding a folder in her hand. “No,” Natasha found herself saying before Maria opened her mouth. The agent smiled.

“I’m sorry but Fury asked for you and Wanda,” Natasha grabbed the folder out of her hand. It was nothing dangerous, just smooth talking with some politicians. She slammed the folder close, a little harder than she attended.

“Have him send someone else?” Wanda took the folder from her. There was no way in hell she was leaving the tower.

“Don’t you think I tried, Nat,” Maria opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. “We are stretched thin,” she popped open the beer and took a long sip. It was only 11:30 but Natasha saw the bags forming underneath her eyes. “I know things are tense but I don’t have a choice.

“Sestra,” Natasha looked at Yelena. “We’ll make sure she’s okay.” There were times like this Natasha hated her job and envied Clint. She wished she had a house in the middle of nowhere with no missions or need to train. Her family was happy and safe on a few acres of land. But there was so much red in her ledger for her to stop now.

“Fine,” she said. “We’ll do it but Fury owes me,” Maria smirked, chuckling.

“That list keeps getting longer and longer.

The world around you seems muted, muffled as if you were submerged underwater. Nothing was clear, everything sounded far off as you stared ahead. You had no energy to move from your bed. Every bone in your body ached and your head felt fuzzy. The only interaction you had was with Wanda bringing you food. The interaction was a loose way you’d describe it. Wanda did most of the talking, you weren’t even sure what she was saying. But you ate the food even though it tasted bitter so they wouldn’t worry. And you knew they were. You couldn’t pull yourself out of this pit you were in. Every Time you tried to crawl your way out you were pulled back in. It was an exhausting, endless cycle as your mind degraded you. Monster. Freak. Killer. Worthless. You believed every word.

When your door opened you were sitting up, coloring on a piece of paper. It was the only thing that you could bring yourself to do. The music was too loud. Reading seemed too hard. And practicing Russian left your brain fried. You were expecting to see Wanda unsure of when the last time you saw the witch. But Natasha walked in with her girlfriend. “Hey dorogoy,” she said, sitting down on your bed. Your legs were crossed so she sat closer to you than expected. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” Horrible. Bad. She smiled. Your throat was a little sore from disuse. Wanda chose to stand behind the Black Widow. You felt uneasy. Did they finally have enough of you? Were they here to kick you out?

“That’s good!” Wanda said. You nodded. “Nat and I have to leave for a few days.”

“Fury is sending us on a quick assignment,” you frowned. They were leaving because of you. They didn’t want to deal with you.

“Oh,” you said, looking back down. “How long will you be gone?”

“2 days max,” Natasha said. You nodded. “Kate and Yelena will be here if you need anything,” you nodded again. “And we’ll be a phone call away, okay?” She added.

“Okay,” you whispered, glancing up at them. “I’m sorry,” you looked back down. “I’m not sure where my head is.”

“It’s okay,” Wanda assured you. “We’ll be here when it gets all sorted out.” They were about to leave but you called out to them.

“Be safe,” you said. “Come back in one piece.” Natasha smiled.

“Always,” the Black Widow closed your door behind them. You thought you’d be grateful for the silence, to be alone again. But it unsettled you, it scared you. Oh, how you wished you could be back in time and stop all this from happening.

A shower was the first thing on your to-do list when your head felt less fuzzy. You didn’t realize how much it would help as the warm water washed over you. It made you feel human. You were walking out of your closet, dressed in fresh clothes, and drying your hair when it hit. It came out of nowhere. The feeling started in your legs, which was new. Your legs began to tingle and your feet cemented to the ground. The feeling traveled up to your stomach and chest where you felt warm. That fuzzy feeling returned in your head. Your muscles tensed up as the wave of electricity moved through your body. Every time you thought it was done it kept going and going. Finally, it stopped. Black spots appeared in front of your eyes and the metallic taste of your blood filled your mouth. You fell to the ground, unable to find the strength to keep yourself standing. A sheering pain ran through your head and the world went black.

Steve was watching Bucky read. It was moments like this that he treasured. No mission. No meeting or training. No paperwork. Just quietness and the opportunity to admire the man he loved. Steve glanced at Bucky one more time before returning to his sketchbook. “Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, Miss. Y/n fell and hit her hand. I’ve already alerted Dr. Cho.” Steve never jumped to his feet so fast and ran to Natasha’s floor. The elevator would take too long. He took three stairs and heard Bucky behind him. By the time Steve got to her door, his chest was heaving and he opened her bedroom door. He saw her, laying face down on her floor. A small pool of blood was forming near her head. “FRIDAY alert Yelena and tell her to get back to the tower.” Steve bent down to pick her up but Bucky placed a head on his shoulder.

“She doesn’t like skin-to-skin contact,” he said. Steve pulled off a blanket from her bed and carefully picked her up, being mindful of not touching her skin.

“Miss. Belova is on her way back,” the AI said. “Should I contact Miss. Romanoff and Miss. Maximoff?”

“Negative, FRIDAY,” Bucky said, following Steve to the elevator. He looked at his boyfriend as the doors opened. “It’s probably better if one of us tells them and not an AI.” He was right. Steve looked at the unconscious girl in his arms and prayed to whoever God was listening that she would be okay.

Yelena felt her heart in her throat as she rode the elevator to med bay. They left the tower for just a few hours to try to get America out of the fuck she was in. She didn’t regret leaving because it was nice to see her friend smile again but Yelena couldn’t help but feel guilty. The doors opened and she saw Steve, Bucky, and Sam waiting in the chairs outside a room. “What happened?” Yelena asked, walking over to them with her girlfriend close behind. Steve looked up.

“We don’t know,” he said. “Helen is still doing her assessment. All FRIDAY said was she hit her head.”

“It could be because she hasn't been eating,” Kate said. “She just may need some food and a good night's sleep.” Yelena heard the elevator door’s open and she saw Pepper and Tony walk over. A party was happening down here.

“What happened?” The CEO asked.

“We were just discussing that,” Yelena said, filling in the couple on what they missed.

“FRIDAY, can you tell us what happened?” Tony asked the AI. It took a moment for FRIDAY to respond which Yelena thought was odd.

“It appears that Miss. Y/n has undiagnosed epilepsy,” the AI said. “This is not the first incident to occur but she asked me to not notify you when an episode happened.”

“Epilepsy?” Steve questioned, looking at Kate and Yelena for clarification. But the Black Widow was just as lost as everyone else. Helen came out of the room, gently closing the door behind her.

“Is she alright?” Pepper was the first to ask. “I know epilepsy that goes untreated can cause brain damage. We -”

“Time out,” Helena said, cutting the CEO off. “Epilepsy? Where are you getting that from?”

“FRIDAY informed us she had epilepsy,” Bucky said. “And it wasn’t the first time she had an episode.”

“She doesn't have epilepsy and she didn’t have a seizure although her symptoms mirror it.” The doctor explained.

“Then what happened?” Yelena questioned. Helen sighed.

“Steve and Bucky told me of her powers. Have any of you seen her use them?” A chorus of no and headshakes was the answer the doctor received. Before the incident with Pepper’s car, Yelena believed the teen would go a lot longer without telling everyone what she could do. “She is pulling energy from around her; the beating of our hearts or the existing electricity in the room. Energy can’t be created or destroyed but it can be converted. So she uses that energy and creates electricity,” she explained. “But that energy can’t stay in her body. It needs an outlet. Similar to when you blow into a balloon. Even when the balloon is inflated you can still blow air into it. Until it pops,” Yelena connected the dots in her head. “Electricity is the same way when it needs an outlet it will make one no matter who gets hurt in the process.”

“She’s electrifying herself.” Yelena guessed. Helen nodded.

“From the scans we took, she’s been doing it for some time and it’s causing damage to her hippocampus,” she told the group. Yelena knew that part of the brain was related to learning and memory. “Right now her vitals are stable but she’s still unconscious. You can visit her but only 2 at a time.” The group thanked the doctor and she returned to her other duties.

“We need to call Nat and Wanda,” Tony said. He looked at the two super soldiers. “Are you two okay with taking their spot?” They nodded.

“Of course,” Steve said. “Will you guys keep us updated?”

“We will,” Pepper said. “Kate and Yelena, why don’t you two stay with her until Nat and Wanda get here?”

“I’ll call them to tell them what’s going on,” Sam added. A plan was in motion and finally, it was just Kate and Yelena standing in the hallway. Instead of going into her room, Yelena sat down in the chair Steve was sitting in. She began to play with the rings on her fingers. Each one had a different story, a different reason why she wore them on her fingers. She was so lost in thought she didn’t notice Kate kneeling in front of her, placing her hands over hers.

“My love,” Kate whispered. Yelena looked up staring into the blue eyes of her girlfriend. “She’s going to be okay.”

“Natasha is going to kill me,” Yelena threw her head back with a sigh. “I told her we would look after her.”

“These things happen, Lena,” Kate sat down next to her. “And Natasha will understand that.” Yelena nodded, allowing the silence to settle between the two. When she looked at her girlfriend, the archer was in deep thought.

“What is it?” Yelena asked.

“Do you want to draw straws on who tells America?” The Russian smiled.

“I’ll leave that one to you, little hawk,” Kate rolled her eyes, kissing Yelena on the cheek.

“Fine, anything for you.”

“Remind me to kill Fury,” Natasha said as they rode the elevator. She was holding onto Wanda’s hand as a lifeline. When she saw Sam’s name appear on the caller ID, she knew something was wrong. They booked it back to the tower before they were off the phone with him. Wanda chuckled.

“You're not gonna kill him. You're just upset.”

“And you're not?” The Black Widow questioned.

“I am,” Wanda said. “One of us has to be level-headed and not think about murdering the Director of SWORD.” Wanda hit her hip against Natasha. The small action pulled a light laugh out of the Russian.

“You're right. Thank you, little witch,” the laugh was much needed as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. Immediately, Natasha saw her sister, sitting alone in the hallway. Not even the sound of the elevator pulled her out of her thoughts. She gave Wanda’s hand a tight squeeze before letting go and walking over to her sister. “Sestra.”

“Natasha,” Yelena stood up. “I’m sorry. I told you she would be okay and I couldn’t keep my promise.”

“Hey, hey,” Natasha put her hands on Yelena’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” she maneuvered Yelena back into the chair and sat down next to her. “This is not your fault okay?” Yelena nodded.

“You are here now and that is what matters,” Wanda added. “Have you been in her room?” The blonde shook her head.

“Cho only wants 2 people in at a time. She wants to speak with you two. I’ll go get her,” Natasha let her sister stand up and walk to find the doctor. She wasn’t ready for this. She felt like her feet were glued to the floor. But she dragged herself out of the chair and opened the door. The air left her lungs as she stared at the still form in the hospital bed. There was a nasal cannula around her face and Ekgs on her forehead. A small gauze was on the side of her head. It took another squeeze from Wanda to get her moving and sit in the empty chair. Wanda sat across from her.

“She looks so peaceful,” the witch spoke, breaking the silence. Natasha agreed but she desperately wanted to see the striking color of her eyes to tell her everything was going to be okay. A gentle knock on the door drew her attention from the teen and Helen walked in.

“Hi,” she said with a smile. “I’m guessing you’ve been filled in.” She stood at the foot of the bed, hands resting on the metal frame. Natasha shook her head.

“We were just informed that she was hurt and came right away.” Helen nodded, her smile faltering slightly. Natasha listened as the doctor explained what happened. She had to admit that she was only catching every other word but she understood what occurred. Self-harm. An act she and those closest to her have gone through.

“Can the damage be repaired?” Wanda asked.

“I recommend introducing light exercises to her daily routine,” her eyes went to the girl. “But the most important thing is we need to stop her from continuing the behavior,” she sighed. “It’s impressive that she’s still doing okay.”

“She’s strong,” Natasha whispered.

“That she is,” Helen said. “Please come get me if you need anything or have any questions.” She left the couple.

“You're right, you know,” the Black Widow looked at her girlfriend. “She’s strong so she’ll be okay.”

“Let’s hope it’s enough.”

Kate found America in the kitchen making pasta. “Hey,” she said to the archer. “I figured everyone would have their hands full so I’m making dinner,” she scratched the back of her head. “I can’t promise it will be good.” Kate sat on the bar stool.

“I’m sure it will be great,” America drained the pasta and moved the pasta back into the pot to add the sauce.

“How is she ?” America finally asked, stirring the pasta and sauce together.

“She’s stable. Her vitals are good but she hasn’t woken up yet,” America nodded, leaning on the counter. “She doesn’t have epilepsy like we initially thought.” America looked up suddenly.

“What caused it?” So Kate explained it in the same way Helen told them. Somehow it was more heartbreaking as she watched her friend's face fall more and more. “Electrifying herself? I- I don’t understand. I thought she was doing better. Wasn’t she?” Her voice cracked at the end.

“She was,” Kate fully believed she was. Before the car incident, the girl now in med bay was completely different from the girl who first came to the tower. “Even though we are healing, people can regress. It’s not linear,” Kate has seen it first hand with Yelena. America nodded. “Can I ask you two things?”

“Sure, doesn’t mean I’ll answer them,” America smirked. The archer rolled her eyes.

“Why are you avoiding her?” The teen sighed, looking in the direction of Y/n’s room.

“The last time I saw her I made her lose control because I wanted to fix everything,” she sighed. “But God Kate you should have seen the fear in her eyes. I don’t want to put her through that again. I can’t.” Kate understood that as she’s been in the same position as America. It was a simple mistake but Kate didn’t realize her girlfriend was stuck in a memory. She came up behind her for a hug and Yelena grabbed her wrist, flipping her over, and spraining her wrist. But the pain didn’t bother Kate; it was the fear in Yelena’s eyes that hurt more. It was in the beginning of their relationship so they were still learning about each other. Natasha had to pull Yelena out of her spiraling thoughts and got her to talk to the archer.

“Do you like her?” Kate asked. “More than just a friend.” She added on quickly. A small smile grew on America’s face.

“Am I that obvious?” Kate smiled, nodding her head. “Yeah, I do. There is something about her that I can’t describe. My stomach flips like I’m on a rollercoaster.”

“A little advice,” Kate said once America was done talking. “Don’t turn your back on her no matter how hard it gets,” she was listening with her full attention, feeding on every word the archer said. “Loving her will be difficult but so worth it.”

“Speaking from experience?” America questioned. Kate heard the quiet footsteps of her girlfriend walking up behind her.

“Yeah,” Yelena’s arm snaked around her waist and burrowed her head in the crock of her neck. “I am.”

Pepper was lost in thought as she had music softly playing in the background. It was rare that the CEO let herself sit and not busy herself with Stark Industries. She couldn’t bring herself to tackle her growing to-do list. There was guilt making its home in her bones. “You're thinking very hard for someone who should be relaxing,” Tony said, handing her a mug and sitting down next to her. Pepper rested her back against his front. Immediately, he began to massage the tension out of her shoulders. “What’s got you thinking so hard?”

“Just thinking about the past few days,” she said after a moment. Tony hummed.

“You care about her, don’t you?” He asked. She took a sip, savoring the taste of spiked apple cider before resting it on the table.

“Yes I do,” she said, turning to face her husband. “And I know you do too.” Tony turned her back to face forward and continued massaging. She had a big knot on her right shoulder that Tony focused on.

“It’s her eyes,” Tony said. “Never have I seen such child-like wonder and sadness at the same time,” Pepper nodded. “I spoke with Banner and I think we can help her.” When she turned to face him, he didn’t stop her. “Cho said this happened because she’s not using her powers. I can guess she doesn't use them because she’s scared.” Pepper came to that conclusion as well. “So what if we create something where she can use her powers and do some good? It will kill2 birds with one stone, ya know? A safe and controlled way to use her powers and slowly change how she views them.” Pepper stared at him and then finally kissed him.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” she said, picking up her drink. The CEO half expected Tony to run off to his lap to work on the new project but he stayed, lost in his thoughts and worlds away. “Now who is thinking too hard?” She teased, squeezing his leg.

“Do you remember that dream I told you about before Strange came to us?” Of course, she did. She thought about it almost every single day. “Is it something you would want to do? You would be a great mom.”

“Tony,” she said, slowly. She moved away from him slightly to look at him.

“Tell me to stop,” he said. “Tell me to walk away from this,” he gestured to the tower. “And I will. I have that cabin upstate and we can raise our daughter.”

“You can’t walk away,” she said. It was a pipe dream. She’s seen the incredibly stupid things he’s done as Iron Man in the name of saving others.

“Why can’t I?” He questioned. Being with Tony, Pepper learned the man was 5 minutes away from a sarcastic comment. But as she stared into his eyes, it was the most serious Pepper had seen him. “Rogers can handle the team and if he doesn’t want it, Wilson isn’t a bad option. I’m serious, Pepper,” he laced his hand with hers. “Tell me to walk away and I will.” But she couldn’t tell him to walk away and have a normal life to raise their daughter. She couldn’t make that decision for him when he wasn’t just her husband and best friend. Iron Man was a beacon of hope for so many. It would be selfish of her to take him away.

“I love you,” she said. “But I don’t think the world is ready to say goodbye to Iron Man.”

“Will it ever be?” He questioned. Pepper placed a hand on his cheek and he turned to kiss it. She drew circles against his skin.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “But we’ll know when it is.”

“Knock, knock,” Natasha looked up as the door opened and saw America, holding two bowls. “I come bearing food,” she whispered, noticing Wanda asleep in the chair. “I know Helen has a two-guest policy so I won’t be long.” Natasha took the bowls from the girl, whose eyes kept flickering to Y/n.

“I can leave,” Natasha said, ready to give her spot up but America shook her head.

“It’s okay. Can you just let me know when she wakes up?”

“You’ll be the first one on my list,” Natasha smiled. “Thank you for the food.”

“Of course. Try to get some sleep too. Goodnight,” she waved, carefully closing the door behind her. It wasn’t long before the smell of food caused Wanda to wake up.

“That smells good.” Natasha smiled, handing her the bowl.

“America made it,” Natasha blew on the pasta before taking a bite. It was good, a little over-seasoned but she was grateful for any food. Wanda giggled. “What’s so funny?” She asked her girlfriend.

“Nothing,” she waved her hand with the fork in it. “Have you ever seen America cook?” She was right. The most the teen had cooked was toast. “It’s just amazing how one stranger can change us.”

“Is it a good change or a bad change?” Wanda smiled.

“It’s good,” the witch said. Natasha looked at the teen, finding comfort in the steady rise and fall of her chest. She wondered if she was dreaming or did her mind offer her one dreamless sleep. Natasha smiled.

“Do you ever wonder what hugging her would feel like?” Wanda nodded.

“All the time,” she whispered. “I wonder when the last time she’s been hugged.”

“Or if she’s been hugged at all,” Natasha mumbled, angrily twirling her pasta. It made her blood boil when she thought how unfair life has treated her. “We’ll ask her when she wakes up,” she looked at Wanda. “I think it will help her feel more like apart of this family.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a great idea,” Natasha watched as Wanda reached into a bag on the floor and pulled out a book, she handed it to Natasha. It was the Outsiders. “She was reading it to you when you were hurt,” The Black Widow took the book and placed her bowl on her lap. “America says it’s her favorite.”

“Is that so?” She opened the book to the first page. It was on the movies they made her watch in The Red Room, an American classic that was filled with their edited agenda. Kate and Peter made it her mission to show her and Yelena movies and TV shows that weren’t tainted by the Red Room. Natasha began to read, “When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I only had two things on my mind; Paul Newman and a ride home…”

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