#bucky has his hands full between these two knuckleheads

[starkerkeyz]

College Dorm Omega Part 1/2

You guys are so amazing but I can’t keep up with your love! 😂 I was going to wait until I hit 300 and write a follow up to that Barista Camboy fic that launched me from 100 to 200 followers in less than 3 days. I see you guys and your thirst has been heard! But then, when I was dicking around thinking about that story, I somehow thought of this one instead :))))) 

Warnings: ABO, implied omega-slavery/legal prostitution/something but doesn’t go into detail and Peter is overall positive about Tony purchasing him. That’s it for now the smut will be in part 2  😈

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“Come here.” In the line up, he's the prettiest thing. Tony knows he’s taking him home then and there. His dad can eat the price tag and bitch from home all he wants; with Tony at MIT and old enough to claim his own omega he can’t even legally make Tony give him back. 

Not that he would have, but. It’s good to have his bases covered. He’s far too close to his rut to want to deal with his dad in person or via lawyer (Howard would definitely sue if he heard the news in the wrong sort of mood). 

The omega steps forward as instructed. He keeps his eyes downwards and his hands clasped. The collar around his throat reads ‘Peter Parker’ in a basic but nice enough font. 

“I’ll take him.” Tony isn’t in the mood for showy games. If his impatience comes off as rude or peculiar neither Peter nor the employee at this shop show it. Tony has enough money that he only needs one card to cover the full cost, no he doesn’t want a paper receipt just email it, thanks, bye.

He arranges for Peter’s things to be shipped to his dorm (he’ll figure out how to get it to fit later) and then he’s bundling the omega into the back of the car and his driver is taking them back to campus. Soon enough they’re stepping into Tony’s dorm room and Peter is being led to the bed. 

“So, you’re my omega now. Legally speaking. But I’m not going to fuck you.” Tony sits at his computer desk and spins in the chair, ignoring the college books and homework he should be getting to in favor of explaining the situation to his new charge. 

“Excuse me?” Peter’s eyes are huge and liquid. Tony’s broken enough sorority and fraternity hearts to be immune -if he looks away right now- and continues, pulling out his phone to scroll on social media. 

“Yeah, you’re cute, but I’m already taken. By an alpha. He’s great.” Tony briefly looks starry eyed. Peter’s charmed despite himself; his alpha -Tony, he thinks his alpha is named Tony- looks so excited and downright giddy at the mention of this other alpha. 

“But...why did you buy me then?” Peter doesn’t want to sound heartbroken, considering he’d been terrified of this day ever since he presented, but now that he’s here and his alpha doesn’t want him...

Okay, he’s a little heartbroken. 

“I need you there. For my rut.” Tony winces at how that sounds and hastens to explain. “Not to fuck, like I said, not going to force my knot on you, but I need you in the room. For your scent. Bucky will take care of the rest.”

“Bucky is your alpha?” Peter asks softly. He bites his lower lip and looks down at his hands when his alpha nods yes. His chest hurts and he feels so stupid. Why isn’t he happy that his alpha (Tony. He’s not really Peter’s alpha if he’s already Bucky’s) isn’t the kind of alpha to use and abuse his omega, like in all the horror stories? This is a dream come true for some of the omega’s left behind. Peter feels like he’s entered a nightmare. 

“Hey, hey, please- don’t cry, don’t cry, I can take you back, okay? I’m sorry, I thought you would be happy, I was going to enroll you here at MIT with me, but I’ll bring you back and find someone else. You can pick. Whatever you want, just stop crying, okay?” Tony gets off the chair and drops his phone on the floor in his haste to get to Peter. He kneels down and hovers his hands over Peter’s heaving shoulders, frantic and babbling.

“No, no, please don’t bring me back, alpha, I can be good! Please don’t bring me back, please d-don’t leave me alone, alpha-” Peter’s babbling just as much as Tony through his tears. 

“I won’t but can you, I mean, I know it’s not like- can you stop crying? I don’t like it when you cry or when anyone cries really but for some reason you crying is going right into my skull and my heart?” Tony can’t stop talking so who is he to ask Peter to stop crying.

“I don’t want to hurt you! I want to fuck you!” Peter’s wailing now. Tony’s even more confused on what he did wrong.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Bucky’s voice cuts across the chaos so cleanly Peter and Tony both freeze in place. 

“I can explain.” Tony starts and then doesn’t go on. Peter looks at Bucky with tears running down his cheeks and his broken heart in his throat. 

Bucky crosses the room and sits down on the bed beside Peter. He puts his hand over Tony’s mouth before the genius can speak and looks at the distressed omega filling the room up with pheromones that make his inner alpha want to find the threat and rip it apart. He tries to appear non-threatening.

“What did he do, Doll?” Bucky’s voice is soft and low, soothing like dark chocolate and warm blanket nests. He switches from his flesh hand to his metal prosthetic without taking his eyes off Peter when Tony licks his palm like the heathen he is.

“H-he...he bought me today...but he doesn’t. He doesn’t want me!” Peter’s tears start anew with this fresh baring of his emotional wounds. He startles a little when Bucky wraps an arm around his waist, wary instinctively of an alpha that isn’t his, but then he tips over into the bigger man when he understands it’s a hug on offer and not anything untoward. 

“Ah. Don’t worry about that, doll. You’re exactly his type of omega. He probably took one look at you and flashed his wallet like the spoiled brat he is.” Bucky gives Tony a look from over Peter’s head that’s fond and exasperated. 

“Then why-” Peter leans back to look at his alpha from out of the cradle of Bucky’s strong arm. His alpha still looks as handsome as Peter thought he was back at the shop he’d been sold at; Peter had taken one look at his boyish grin, one sniff of that masculine tang and alpha spice, and been gone for him. So when the alpha looked back, when he called Peter forward, when he also took one look, one sniff? Peter had been floating on cloud nine over the possibilities. 

“He’s not very good at communicating.” Bucky takes his metal hand back only because he can sense the pressure against the small plates in his palm from Tony’s teeth and it tickles. The little shit. 

“I told him you’re my alpha, how much clearer could I be?” Tony grouses. He’s grinning as he says it and Bucky knows he’s not annoyed or put out in the slightest. 

“You could have explained we were open to the idea of him joining, if he wanted to join, or he could stay platonic with you and be a free agent.” Bucky rolled his eyes at his lover. Really. He could understand the schematics of Bucky’s arm from one scientific discipline to the other but he couldn’t do interpersonal relationships for shit. 

“He started crying before I got to that part!” Tony shuffles closer to Bucky on his knees, moving like he’s a supplicant to Bucky’s open lap but the older alpha knows his bratty boy better than Tony knows himself. He reaches out and stops him before any seduction or offers of blowjobs can slip from his silver tongue. 

“I want to. Join you.” Peter’s words are followed by a blush and a skirting of his eyes up towards Bucky. He cuddles closer to the big alpha and lowers his lashes, face still stained by his tears but a different kind of heat burning in his eyes. 

“I want to join both of you.”

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The next part will involve alpha ruts, alpha knots and omega sex, the typical ABO works and the typical amount of smut you see from me. Thanks again for being so positive and encouraging as a community 💖

[writerwrites]

Could I Need You This Much

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After Bucky is left at the alter he asks you, his childhood best friend, to go with him to Rome so the non-refundable honeymoon doesn’t go to waste. Wanting to support him through his breakup you decide to telework and tag along. There’s a little problem: You’ve always been oblivious about your own feelings until you’re head over heels.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: Modern!au, wedding day break-up, language, past injury mention, fluffy... chronically fluffy

A/N: *THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONE SHOT* This is my submission to the [belated] birthday challenge for @burninmatches​​​​ and I chose to combine two prompts from the challenge for this fic. First, the soulmates trope. Second, the song “Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears ; The beautiful dividers were made by @whimsicalrogers​​​

Bucky was always a quiet person, but you’d never seen him this quiet. You had just stepped out of the bathroom in your cute little tux and mini-bowtie, arms splayed out wide making jazz hands. The proclaimed ‘tada’ fell silent on your ruby-painted lips the moment you saw his downcast gaze at his phone. “Buck? Hey, talk to me, what’s going on?”

Steve was checking to make sure things were good to go; the irony of that, he thought. You would be the one to find him like this. “She broke it off. No wedding.” Those were the only words the Army veteran could muster as his lungs felt like ice and his mind filled with water.

You fell to your knees in front of him, kicking off your shiny black heels and pulling his phone from his hand to throw it to the side. “So let’s go. Let’s get out of here. Steve will take care of the crowd. We’ll get Nat to handle the vendors, she’s intimidating enough to stop them from asking questions. You don’t need to be here. You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to. You tell me what to do and consider it done.”

This was what you did with the boys. Steve and Bucky were practically brothers and the three of you were the Musketeers of Brooklyn. You had weaseled into their lives because you had been the talker, the sidekick, the advice giver. Advice...you tried your best with this relationship and though you wouldn’t dare say you told him so, there had been so many bumps along the way. Even sweet Steve had drunkenly said Bucky could do better, about as harsh a judgement as Steve could ever muster. She had drunkenly complained that she hated how close the three of you were, you’d brushed it off. Bucky had been played, taken her back more times than you and Steve could count, and he’d put up with so much to make her happy. ‘At what cost’ was all you could manage to think.

There was a guilt in the pit of your stomach, a little voice in the back of your head, this was your fault. Maybe if you’d spoken up, but there wasn’t time to stay stuck in your own head as Bucky started to pull at his slicked back hair. Grabbing his hands in yours, detangling the mess he made, you pulled him up. “We’re getting out of here, simple as that. If you can’t tell me what to do, I’ll take care of this.”

When his rough hands pulled from yours it felt like he was about to protest, but his hands just went back to his face, blocking you from the sight of fresh tears. It was the first time you’d seen him cry from anything other than infectious laughter. Steve was the emotional one, Bucky was the glue, and you were... trading your heels in for the Chelsea boots you’d worn on your bike ride to the chapel. Grabbing your bag, you shoved in his wallet, phone, anything else that was small and his and put the bag on him. Pulling him to the exit you Gave him your helmet and grabbed Steve’s with little hesitation, a fleeting glance at Bucky’s car covered in hideous ‘just married’ decor. “Just hold on to me. It’s been a while since I’ve had anyone bigger than me on the back.”

He didn’t acknowledge you with words, just little tilts of his head, eyes downcast. Even when you started the motorcycle and patted the seat to get on, Bucky marched like a tin soldier to orders. You were grateful for the noise of your bike and the city, and the built in Bluetooth speakers and mic in your helmet so you could call Steve. With a promise to somehow get his helmet back to him and to make up for the shitstorm that he and Nat would have to handle, you hung up and crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and escaped to the one place you knew no one would look for you except possibly Steve, Plumb Beach.

Hand in hand you two walked onto the small beach and you only let go to dig in the bag he still wore for the clothes you’d worn to the chapel to throw them on the sand for the pair of you to have a seat. His eyes searched far and wide, still staying off of you, so to give him some space, you emailed your boss that the three days off next week, your personal time to recover from the partying and subsequent clean up, should just be changed to a full week of telework. With no complaints outside of a joke that you really needed a real vacation, you tucked your phone into your pocket and really looked at Bucky. The sun on his tanned skin, face clean shaven - a rare occurrence, and the lines on his face from years of stress and pain or chronic infectious laughter. As your lips parted to try and weasel the latter out of him, his gentle voice came out in a raspy whisper, “I was looking forward to the trip to Italy. I thought it was going to be a fresh start for us, a new chapter.”

You draped your arm over his shoulder, pulling him close and his chin rested on your shoulder. “Bucky, I know that you know those two things aren’t the same.” Running your fingers through his hair to comfort him like he’d comforted you through your own fair share of breakups, you let out a sigh, “But today it’s okay to let her burn in your lungs and your heart and your head... It’s okay to scream it out or cry. Whatever it takes to not let this moment consume you because you’re going to come out on top. You’re not alone, not for a second.”

When he pulled away you thought he was pulling away for space or going to give some grandiose speech about how you didn’t understand and how he was alone. Instead he was reaching for your hand, pulling you up and, with three squeezes and the corner of his lips you knew what was coming. The quiet countdown, the setting sun, a throwback to junior prom and your ex making out with your nemesis under the bleachers. “One.” You started, eyes on him.

“Two.” His bright blue bloodshot eyes on you.

“Three.” Two pairs of lungs in unison soon empty of air as they let out billowing calls to nowhere.

Two tuxedoed buffoons getting odd looks, Bucky pulling you into his side, and no sound but the waves whispering as you let him process. “Let’s get out of here.”

While you were relieved he was finally stringing along more than a word or two you weren’t sure what he meant. It was the way his eyes seemed to light up like he was having a ‘eureka’ moment. “The last time you looked at me like that you decided we had to take a cross-country road trip before you and Steve left for bootcamp.”

Bucky tugged you back to the bike, “And wasn’t that exactly what we needed?”

Despite your laughter, the knowing that the trip was what you all needed to cope with the gang breaking up, you still recalled how the boys barely made it to the bus on time. Passing him Steve’s helmet with a nod, Bucky pulled it on without shaking hands or hesitation. “Where are we going?”

“My suitcase is in my car. Can you get off work?” You didn’t need to see his expression to know there was a puppy dog look of optimism on his face.

“I actually already did.” As you mounted your bike and Bucky flipped up the visor and you were surprised to see him looking so surprised. “What?” Clearing your throat and flipping your own visor down he got on and you hollered over the engine. “Steve has your keys, too. I’ll tell him to drive it over to you, you can have your suitcase, he can have his helmet. Now where are we going while we wait on him?”

“Yours, knucklehead. You’ve got a bag to pack.”

It wasn’t all that surprising that Steve couldn’t leave on a whim. His job as an art therapist for veterans wasn’t exactly something he put before a social life. As Bucky pulled luggage from the trunk Steve pulled you to the side, “I’m only letting him go on this trip because you’re going. If anything happens I’ll find a way to get there. I’m sorry I...”

Pressing your fingers to his lips you hushed him. “I may not be a therapist, but you two are my best friends. I’m not going to let him lock himself in a bathroom, throw himself off a gondola, or...”

Steve interrupted you with side-holding laughter, “Oh dear, you might need this more than him you uncultured swine. There are no gondolas in Rome.”

“No gondolas in Rome? Well fuck, we better pick a new place to run off to.” Bucky half-smiled as he leaned his head into the door. “We are still putting my non-refundable honeymoon to good use, aren’t we?”

Punching Steve in the arm, you called back at the blonde, “See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya!”

Bucky stayed, talking to Steve for more than a couple of minutes while you flipped through work emails and kept your boss in the loop on the telework situation. All the while, only catching the tone of concern in Steve’s voice, not the words. Before you knew it you were on your way, body scans and bag checks, and with Bucky’s eyes averted you flipped through social media to see if it was safe to let him near his own phone. It wasn’t, at least not yet. It wasn’t just that she had changed her Facebook relationship status or that she deleted the countless pictures chronicling their relationship, it was that she had unfriended every person around Bucky that had put up with her for his own happiness. It made you wonder what happened, but more than that, it made you glad to put an ocean between her and your fists.

The non-stop flight was just shy of nine hours, the ride to the hotel in the heart of the city was another thirty, and as you walked up to the counter to check in Bucky, who managed to restlessly nod off on your shoulder, looked like he was about to collapse. “We’re here to check in, the reservation is under James Barnes.” 

It was obvious that they were processing the English, disrupted from their lunch, “Ah, che bravissimo, the American newlyweds! Evviva gli sposi!”

What felt like nine in the morning on no sleep for you was clearly better than Bucky’s experience. So you nodded, thanked them, and passed over the passport and other items clutched in his hand. Once it was all back in your hands with room keys you pulled him along to the elevator and, once again, he surprised you. “Are you okay?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you took his hand. “Despite what some people think, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being a Mrs. Barnes.” Sticking out your tongue to lighten the mood, you left him in the elevator as you pulled your luggage along, “C’mon Athos!” The childhood nickname seemed to draw him from his thoughts and his long legs quickly caught up to you. “Want me to go in first and chuck any romantic decor?”

“Fuck, I didn’t even think about that.” He swallowed at the cotton in his mouth. “No, it’s fine. Hell, maybe there’s chocolate on the pillows.”

Wiggling your eyebrows you slipped the keycard in and pushed the door open, but just as you were about to say ‘dibs’ you saw the room. Rose petals trailed along the floor and the room had the soft scent of clean cotton and gardenias. Faux candles of an array of heights and sizes flickered on every surface. The bathroom door sat open and the motion sensor light kicked on to brighten up a jacuzzi tub and oversized shower with a bench. The small area to sit in had a door out to the balcony with a postcard worthy view and just as you were about to rush out there you saw the bed- the one massive bed and the welcome basket and flowers in the center of a massive heart of petals. “Cliché, but I think we have the chocolate covered.”

“I’ll take the couch.” He was so quick, so matter of fact about it that it almost threw you for a loop and you nearly agreed.

“We could sleep on this bed with all of this on it and still never brush elbows. Besides, we’ve shared a bed before.”

While all of that was true and you didn’t think much of it as you kicked off your shoes and left your bags by the door, something was twisting in the pit of Bucky’s stomach. The fact was that it had always been you, him, and Steve; even on the impromptu road trip Steve was always there. The boundaries had always been crystal clear and now you both were single, had careers, grown up, and now, after everything, there were secrets. “Are you sure?”

“Yup. Go and shower first, Army boy. If I do there won’t be any hot water left for you.” As soon as he was in the bathroom you pulled out your laptop, checking in with Natasha about the vendors and letting Steve know you had made it safe. With it being so early in the morning you weren’t surprised by the lack of a response and set out to clean up the room, all the while keeping an ear open for Bucky needing you. Just as you were about to check on him, your toiletry bag and a change of clothes tucked under your arm, you shrieked at the door opening in front of you. Your fist instinctively punched straight ahead into his stomach and set him coughing. “Shit! Sorry.” As soon as you put your hand on his damp shoulder you saw the familiar intense scarring that he usually kept hidden under a henley or leather jacket. Your thumb brushed over the remnants of the wound that had discharged him from the military before you took a step back, “Okay Barnes, I didn’t hit you that hard.”

“It’s my ego. You hit me in my ego.” He mocked as he straightened up. “Steve can never know this happened.”

Sticking your tongue out you walked into the bathroom and shut the door, a long slow exhale passing your lips. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath and that might have surprised you if it wasn’t for the flushed look on your face in the mirror. It wasn’t blush- or so you swore.

On the other side of the door, Bucky quickly changed and moved around the room setting a few dozen of the candles back on to turn off the harsher light of the bedroom lamps. His eyes stayed on the bathroom door the entire time while his mouth moved from chewing the inside of his cheek to chewing on his bottom lip. Once he’d finally stopped pacing around the room and decided to take a seat the bathroom door opened and you stepped out in leggings and a long t-shirt. Your eyes were on the floor, hair wrapped in a towel so that it didn’t drip onto your clothes. Bucky’s blue eyes stayed glued on the shirt clinging to the damp skin beneath. “I remember when you stole that shirt.”

“Huh?” Looking down you couldn’t help but snort, “Don’t call me out!”

“You always do that,” The corner of his mouth turned up, in a near smile and it was a relief for both of them to feel the tiniest lightening of the mood, a baby-step to normalcy.

“Do what?” Feigning innocence and flopping onto the bed, you reached for a pillow, causing the old shirt to slink up your curves.

“Buy a present that is actually meant for you and, under dubious circumstances at best, you somehow reclaim that gift.” Once the pillow was under your head, Bucky delicately pulled the shirt down and laid down next to you, rolling onto his side.

“I’m pretty sure I had this shirt first and it’s mine, but I knew you liked it so much that I got you the same one for your birthday.” You looked down at his hand, lingering on your stomach, certain it was just that he needed physical comfort, so you placed yours on top.

“Then at Steve’s twenty-first birthday co-Independence Day party you got so trashed you ruined yours. This is my shirt.”

“James Buchanan Barnes! Are you calling me a liar? Are you trying to steal the shirt off of my back?” You laughed so hard the bed shook and just as you settled down, sides aching, his rough fingertips tickled at the bottom of your soft tummy, right at the hem of your leggings and the shirt. “Even if it was yours, and I’m most certainly not saying it is, it’s molded to my thicc-ness now and  it’ll never fit you again, Army Boy!”

“My whole government name, is it?” He smiled, really smiled, that glowing dopey ear to ear smile that was contagious. It had nearly been twenty-four hours since you’d seen him smile and somehow you were all to aware of an ache in your bones of missing his naturally contagious light. But that wasn’t what caught you off guard, it was the fact that this smile hadn’t been seen in years and the realization was something akin to going through withdrawals.

The choked laugh and the smile that found your own lips was hesitant, reserved, and held between your teeth. Against your better judgement you reached over and brushed your thumb through the lines on his face. “Does it hurt smiling like that after you haven’t in years.”

The words were whispered, Bucky’s sad blue eyes looked up from the threads of the comforter he was picking at and locked dead on you. When your lips parted to apologize, he leaned in close and pressed his lips to your forehead. “New chapter, remember?” Though your breath hitched in your throat, he pulled away from you, “I guess we’ll have to get used to it.”

“I could get used to it.” You half-yawned. “If we take a nap we might be able to reset ourself and waste less time jet lagged.”

“Background noise of tv, music, or--”

“City!” You finished with an excited smile, already sliding off the bed to open the balcony’s door and let in the sounds of Rome. You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you and thought little more of it than his own curiosity about what the pair of you were going to miss during your quick snooze. By the time you turned around his eyes were closed and he’d jumbled up all of the blankets and pillows to get comfortable. “Too fluffy?”

“Spend years in the desert and try and sleep with all of that.”

Walking up the massive bed on your hands and knees, your tired body couldn’t be bothered to shove it all over the edge. He watched you attempt at climbing under the blankets, curious about why you weren’t looking up to see where you were going. It left you brushing against Bucky and he pulled you to his chest in one of his classic bear hugs. “Careful or you’ll wish you were back in the desert or did you forget that I’m a human space heater?”

“Nah, you missed my big hugs.” The steady cadence of his pulse was already lulling you to sleep. If that wasn’t enough, he pulled the towel off of your head and ran his fingers through your hair. It was an intoxicating sort of magic, a little trick he’d learned comforting his sisters and maybe when you woke up you’d feel played because you should have been comforting him, but the stars behind your lids drew you to a comfortable sleep.

As the two of you zipped around the city on your matching pistachio colored Vespas, Bucky knew he’d really started a new chapter. He could still perfectly picture the confusion on your face when you shocked him by agreeing to set work aside for a sunset zip to hunt down the best gelato. He couldn’t remember the last time you’d looked at him and not known what he was thinking. It was impossible for him to recall the last time anyone had set work aside to live a little, even with Steve. Though Bucky had chalked it up to ‘growing up’ a larger part of him wondered if you wold have always said yes or if there was a bigger reason you would’ve said no- like his ex. The fact was that the ex never even let you ask. That chapter felt a lot like the words ‘missing you’. This one felt a lot like three.

Somehow in the last two days in Italy, tossing coins in fountains, eating copious amounts of bread at every meal, sipping on proper espresso to counteract jet lag; he hadn’t cried or settled into some desperate need to get over his ex by getting under someone else. Bucky found himself delighting in the little things and he realized it was just because you were. 

Wine tasted better after watching you bring it to you lips with a hum. Its color was the perfect balance of red and purple as it stained your lips. Then, when you slid it across for him to try it was the melodic sound of your laughter and pleading that convinced him to try something new from his staunchly beer and bourbon alcohol repertoire. 

The mere mention of ice cream was no longer summoning the memory of that time Steve started a scrap that he had to end and resulted in you buying the three of them ice creams to cool off in the humid New York summer heat. You’d scolded the both of them so lovingly hard that yours melted entirely over fingers before your first lick. No, it was those fingers now covered in strawberry, sticky-sweet, and the almost inaudible gasp on you lips when Bucky leaned in and licked it off. He swore it was just for a stolen taste, but in the back of his mind he knew it wasn’t.

The laugh that came with the silly gesture, the familiar warmth of it like a hug to him, was more to you. While you swore it because he was being uncharacteristically childish. “I want to say I could get used to this ‘new chapter’ version of you because I love seeing you back to the Bucky that would protect Steve from his own stubbornness and me from my bad... taste, but if you’re going to make me laugh this much all the time... Can a person die of laughter? Is it going to be an oxygen deprivation type of death?” Laughing nervously, glad Steve wasn’t around to read you like a book. The embarrassment truly stemmed from how you loved the feeling of his stubble scratching your skin. Steve would’ve called you on it, that some how, something had just flipped like a switch and you were seeing the history of your friendship in a completely different way. The anxiety was starting to bubble as you question if he did too.

It felt so obvious to you, that the universe was laying the cards out on the table. You both shared silence and sound, space and somehow time- not just time in the sense of being in a new time zone or having shared a lifetime of memories, it was more and as you parked the rental Vespas at the shop and picked up your little bicycles, Bucky pulled you into the biggest hug. You didn’t ask him what it was for or hesitate to hug him back.

The sun was low, the street lamps turned on, and the only barrier between you two were the bikes. Hiding your smile in the curve of Bucky’s neck you could have sworn you heard him groan when you lips brushed the base of his neck at the collar of his t-shirt. “You know where we are?” He asked as he led you around the bike just a little, still holding you until he pulled on your hip to make you look out at the view. A hefty amount of stairs led down deeper into the plaza, flanked by older peach and dusty rose buildings. The architecture was beautiful, but you honestly had been enjoying the company on this trip more than the food and your love of history was always always something you didn’t flaunt. “It’s late and we’ve been dragging each other all over this city since we got here, so I’ll forgive you for not realizing just yet.”

Buzzing with excitement and curiosity he took your hand, lacing his hand in yours and taking you down the stairs a few at a time. “I’ve got little legs!” You laughed, true or not it was always hard to keep up with the soldier’s longer legs. The joke of protest was met with Bucky’s arms scooping you up. You were so tempted to protest, so tempted to tell him that the last thing he needed was to hurt his arm lugging you down some stairs in Rome. Then you saw his smile, the one that reached his eyes and the only thing you could say was, “The stairs! Stop looking at me and look at the stairs, Bucky!”

“I’d never drop you.” He said it so matter of factly and you believed it. “I really want to enjoy this so close your eyes.”

“Demanding.” You chuckled, no longer hiding that you loved it. “Fine... but only since you completely unnecessarily but oh so gallantly walked me down oh so many Roman stairs.”

With a crinkle of your nose you shut your eyes and he set you down  shortly thereafter. You swallowed at the dryness in you mouth when his hands found yours again almost immediately. Bucky’s breath shook in your ear, surely from the effort of lugging you around, you swore, biting into your bottom lip waiting for the cue to open your eyes. But he waited, his hands still holding yours and then enveloping you in a tight hug, his chest pressed to your back, his chin over your shoulder. “Okay, now you can open them.”

You didn’t have to read the placard to know Keat’s home. When Bucky and Steve were away for boot camp you’d written them every day, jokingly telling the boys to not become blockheads and to keep each other safe. While the letters were fairly similar, you knew Steve was already hiding doodles on the envelopes, he had ‘his thing’. So you sent Bucky poetry, Keats being one of your favorites. How you’d forgotten the stairs was beyond you, but you weren’t breathing, your eyes stung with happy tears. This was a bucket list visit and your chin quivered as you recalled the emotions of reading you first poem and the worry about losing the boys forever. You’d made yourself sick worrying Bucky would do something stupid to save Steve.

“Hey, pretty girl, this was supposed to make you smile!” Bucky squeezed you in that hug a little tighter and finally you took a breathe and the few tears dripped down your cheeks. “I thought you loved John Keats.” You could only managed a mildly frantic nod as you tried to collect yourself, a soft smile- one too similar to an apology found your lips. “This is you in celebrity shock?” A nudge to Bucky’s side made him laugh and you let go of his hands so you could spin around and hug him tightly back. “Ahhh there’s the reaction I was hoping for.”

“You never talked about the poems I sent you. I just assumed you didn’t want to tell me I was being lame.” Chewing the inside of your cheek you looked back at the building and then up at his bright blue eyes, which were only on you.

“I loved them. They got me through...” The arm, he didn’t have to say it and you squeezed his side to let him know that. What you hadn’t expected was the quiet man that kept his longer chatting to odd things he’d dug up on science threads on Reddit or political rants to make a confession in the middle of the Piazza di Spagna in words that you both shared years ago:

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—         Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids apart,         Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task         Of pure ablution round earth's human shores, Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask         Of snow upon the mountains and the moors— No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,         Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,         Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever—or else swoon to death.

Was that what did it? Was that the moment you fell head over heals for Bucky Barnes? It felt irrelevant to label the ‘something happened’ moment when, under the stars and in the summer heat you pulled his mouth to yours and kissed him fearlessly. His hands pulled the two of you somehow ever closer and the only compromise to the separation of your soft lips to his was the gasp for air. The dopey smile on his face as he cupped your face gave you the opportunity to use your words. “I’m in love with you, too.”

Bucky’s fingers pressed gently into your soft skin and he pulled your mouth back to his. He didn’t ask when you knew, you didn’t ask him either, and it didn’t matter. His tongue caressed yours and you moaned into his mouth, your fingers tugging on his cloths, his hair, every inch of you pressing into him until you both were breathless messes again. “I’ll bring you back.”

“Promise?” You didn’t know if he meant to Italy or the Keats-Shelley Museum, but you were too distracted by his blown out pupils and how beautiful his lips looked wet and swollen from kissing you. The thought of that action alone was still dizzying.

“Yeah, I promise, but I have one more surprise.” As your eyebrows drew together in confusion his hands pulled away from your face, where they had been resting gently on your neck, brushing your jaw, leaving a sting of heat in their wake. He took your hands in his and he got down on one knee. Your mouth fell open and you picked it up quickly, but your head lulled to the side like a confused puppy as your heart raced so loudly in your chest that you were certain Bucky would feel the vibrations in your fingertips. “Will you marry me? Steve always knew I wanted this. He swore up and down that if I just took five minutes to think about what you meant to me romantically that I would realize every single person I’d been with never compared to the girl who climbed in my sandbox. I wouldn’t have been left at the alter if I would have realized the only person I wanted at my side was the person I wanted at my side in sickness and in health, good times and bad, was always already there. Yes, you and Steve are my best friends, but I should have realized sooner why there were differences between my friendships with the two of you.”

“Everyone saw it but the two of us.” You looked down at Bucky, his hands may not have held a ring, but it was perfect and it was very much the two of you in your own world. “I guess I need to call Steve to come to Rome after all.”

As if he was reading your mind, he knew what you meant, you weren’t leaving this city without marrying him. Pulling out your phone, you tapped the little phone icon and in one swoop Bucky was picking you up and spinning you around, his lips kissing every inch of skin they could find and you laughed breathlessly. Steve answered on the second ring but the pair of you laughing muffled his greeting. You pulled the phone from your face and saw the minutes counting and you hushed Bucky with a smile and gentle little thwack to his peck. “So he told you?” Steve asked, tone anxious.

“Told me what?” Your eyebrows drew together and Bucky set you down, leaning in to listen to the call.

“He told you she called it off because he wanted to marry you.” Bucky swallowed, knowing that Steve was leaving out the key detail that after somehow getting his confiscated phone back he had drunk texted the Bride-not-to-be and told her as much the night before the wedding. “Is it finally happening?”

“Yeah,” You both said in unison, smiling despite the circumstances.

“Well, only if you can get out here. Someone has to give me away and seeing as how he won’t stand there without you and I won’t marry him without your blessing, it’s a bit of a co-dependent situation.” Bucky muffled his laugh, squeezing your hand before kissing your temple. “What do you say, Aramis?”

Steve let out a long sigh, but you could hear his keys jingling like he was already headed for his car. “Far be it from me to delay the inevitable. I’m surprised you two didn’t take care of this before we enlisted. Y’now, speaking of the three musketeers, does the impulsivity of this make him a D’Artagnan?”

Bucky let out a whistle and jokingly pumped his arm in victorious celebration. “You’ve done it now, Steve. Straight to his head.”

“I have to torture you a little for making me live through a couple of decades of angst and oblivion.”

You could practically hear the approving smile, “See you soon, stupid.”

Unceremoniously ending the call, you leapt into Bucky’s arms and picked up kissing him, drizzling in a lifetime’s worth of unsaid I love yous. Through laughing and smiling, fingers tangled in hair and soft curves pressed to the cold stone wall of the museum, you drank in Rome and Bucky. Each kiss was a vow to no longer letting a moment pass you two by.

All Tags: @tom-hlover​​

Bucky Tags: @caplanbuckybarnes​​

[ad1thi]

@justlous-art asked for stevetony/buckytony to stuckony on twt so i made another rec list!! some of these are established stevetony to stuckony, some are established buckytony to stuckony and some are just them meandering into a relationship,,but hopefully some of them are what you were hoping for!! @iza-rukia13 also requested to be tagged!! 

//

stevetony to stuckony

Being Stubborn: @potrix-the-queerschlaeger (part of a series)

Tony is no stranger to people disliking him on sight, hating him with or without reason, but with Steve it’s different. There’s something about Steve, an invisible pull that draws Tony in, makes it impossible for Tony to take the easy way out.

He craves the confrontations with Steve, looks forward to them with an almost perverse glee, his head heavy and foggy with want. Tony wants, he needs. Wants it from Steve, needs it from Steve.

Whatever it is. Tony isn’t sure yet, but he’s determined to find out, no matter what. No backing down.

The Soulmate(s) You Are Looking For: @potrix-the-queerschlaeger​

James doesn’t say anything, just holds Tony’s hand, his face open and full of affection. Tony swallows hard, stomach flipping funnily, but before he can decide how to react or what this means, James’s eyes flutter shut, fingers twitching once around Tony’s before he’s asleep again.

Steve brings Bucky home to the tower. It doesn't go the way Tony imagined it would.

Captain ‘Socialist Rage Muffin’ America: @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah

It takes three months of dating Steve Rogers for Tony to understand why Aunt Peggy once shot at him in sheer frustration.

Alternately titled, Honey, I committed treason again.

just our hands (clasped so tightly):  @daeshikoba

One call out to investigate a disturbance at the cemetery changes everything, and maybe, just maybe, gives them all a second chance. Love doesn't stop for anyone or anything. Not even death.

Penny Candy and Sparklers: @striving-artist

James Buchanan Barnes: formerly the Winter Soldier, formerly Captain America’s right hand man, formerly a sergeant, formerly a dock worker, formerly Stevie’s best friend.... currently a glorified prisoner of Prince T’Challa.... had trouble wrapping his head around all those former selves. He spent too much time thinking about all the bits of him that he kept gluing back together to pretend he was a person anyone would want to keep. He spent even more time picking at the cracks, pointing the flaws out to himself. Only thing he did more than that was make sure no one else noticed how far he was from human.

So, James Buchanan Barnes, who didn’t know what to call himself, who didn’t know how to go forwards, agreed, and moved back into the tower where his best friend lived with a husband orphaned by the Winter Soldier.

The thing is: @/orphan-account

Falling in love can be hard enough to deal with on its own. Falling in love when you are a recently-reintegrated superhero, who spent the past 70 years as a brainwashed HYDRA assassin, is a bit tricky. It gets trickier when the person you're in love with is a genius, billionaire, philanthropist, superhero. It's just messy when said person is Captain America's boyfriend.

But Bucky's handling things fine. He's fine.

The Mission: @haunted_frost, @thxngam 

"He's hot," Tony mumbled.

"Yep."

"We're fucked, huh?"

Rule #3: Do Not Fuck Your Best Friend's Boyfriend (In An Air Vent Or Otherwise): @tonystarktogo

Bucky is very, very good at getting himself into trouble. Example: He's been on site less than ten minutes and already he is forced to hide in a fucking air vent from a bunch of security guards who weren't even supposed to be in the building. Where he promptly makes out with his best friend's boyfriend. While said best friend is on the comms with them.

At least the first part he gets to blame on Clint.

buckytony to stuckony

It’s Raining Inside: @potrix-the-queerschlaeger

Jealousy, ugly and burning, flares up in Steve’s heart at the sight of Tony in Bucky’s arms, and even though he’s loath to do so, Steve has to admit the main reason he isn’t storming right over there to pull them apart isn’t anything noble or selfless, but the fact that he doesn’t know whose place he’d rather take.

Or; five times Steve feels like he's the third wheel, plus the one time Bucky and Tony show him how wrong he is.

Too High A Bar:  @/ezazahaz

Tony and Bucky know neither of them is good enough for Steve. The thing is, nobody else is either. Good thing Steve has friends to protect him from all his unworthy suitors.

This Might Just Work:  @/Odsbodkins

Bucky Barnes is unwillingly dragged along when Nick Fury goes to talk to Tony Stark about the Avenger Initiative, as a little demonstration of the bigger universe Tony's just joined.

Please note: Chapter 3 contains Iron Man 3 spoilers.

The Stars Through Her Soul: @ficlicious

When Toni was seven, her soulmarks manifested: a red star edged in silver under her right collar bone, and a white star edged in blue under her left collar bone. Mama told her never to show them to anyone, because the Starks have enemies, and those enemies could use the soulmarks against her. She didn't see how. They were only stupid stars that didn't do anything but feel cold.

By the time she's fifteen, she learns more about the marks, and the men they signify. Red Star wanders in and out of her life without seeming to remember her from one encounter to the next, and she's pretty sure White Star was lost decades ago. Soulmates, she decides, are useless flights of fantasy, because hers certainly aren't the supportive life partners all the stories say they're supposed to be.

But she's a grown-ass woman now, and it doesn't really matter if she wants them or not. It really doesn't matter if she's a loose cannon, and one is with SHIELD and the other with HYDRA.

They're hers and she's theirs.

And she really doesn't like it when people take her stuff.

(Beta'd by the ever-fabulous LunaMax1214, silvershadowkit, Medie and justanotherpipedream)

just sort of fall into a relationship

If Only: @/Wix 

The Avengers have tracked down the Winter Soldier and brought him into the fold, but Bucky isn't really back yet and Steve's hurting from the distance between him and his first love - and then there's the whole thing with Tony. It's okay though, they'll figure it all out...probably.

Operation: Knuckleheads: @festiveferret

Bucky is enjoying his new, post-Winter Soldier life at Avengers Tower, until he discovers that the constant tension between Steve and Tony was caused by a recent (and mysterious) breakup. Determined to make his friends happy, Bucky gives himself a new mission: figure out what went wrong, and get these two idiots in love back together again.

[nineteenseventeenbarnes]

Better Man

Characters: CollegeAU! Bucky x reader World Count: 2552 Genre: fluff Warnings: n/a

James Buchanan Barnes, a.k.a Bucky was well known on the basketball court for his skills and on campus for his sharp jaw and bright blue eyes. He and his best friend Steve Rogers were the eye candies of the school, every girl wanted to be with them, and every guy wanted to be them.

It was a quarter to 3 AM on a Saturday, where would Bucky be? At a house party near the college campus, of course. After making out with some random chick the last half an hour, the air inside started to feel too thick so he decided to step outside to get some fresh air.

Bucky stepped over some random drunk person who fell asleep on the front porch and walked onto the paved path and to the tree right by the main driveway. He patted his pockets, looking for his cigarettes.

As he lit his cigarette, a girl with a hood over her head and her hands full of books scurried passed him. Usually, he'd pay no mind to people he didn't know, but Bucky was a little tipsy from all the drinks he had drowned, so he decided to say something to her.

"Where 'ya heading to so late at night?"

Her head shoots up too quickly at his voice, making her hood fall off the top. With his cigarette between his lips, Bucky's blurry eyes take second to recognize the girl – it was Y/N Y/L/N – the student council president who was known to be a huge nerd but had the face and body of a model. She was well known for paying zero attention to anyone who tried to hit on her and was always focused on school-related work.

"Well, Mr. Barnes, the café next to campus closes at 2 AM, so I'm heading home now." She responds to him in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You know who I am?"

"Who doesn't?" she rolls her eyes in a bored manner. Bucky's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He wasn't used to girls other than his friends Wanda and Nat talking to him in their normal voice, they usually had their shy or sultry voice on when speaking to either him or Steve.

"You study from day to night?" Bucky asks, shoving his hands in his pocket, the cold air blowing.

"Not just studying," she replies, shifting the books in her arms. "Not today anyway, I was preparing the proposal for the winter formal."

Bucky's mouth formed an O. For a second, he forgot campus events don't just happen, someone had to be behind them.

"Get home safe, have a good night," Y/N says before she starts to walk away.

Grinning as he thought of the most random conversation he has had in a while,

Bucky throws the rest of the cigarette stick on the ground, stomping on it before he heads back inside.

The next day, Bucky wakes up in his bed. After heading back inside the house after his chat with Y/N, he got Steve, who gave him a weird look when he told him he wanted to go home, and they both headed back to their shared apartment.

"What's up with you?" Steve asks Bucky as he came out of his room.

"What?" Bucky asks, plopping himself on the sofa and letting out a big yawn.

"We usually don't come home till the sun starts rising," Steve explains, learning on the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.

"Dunno didn't feel like it," Bucky answers before turning the television on. Steve rose an eyebrow at his answer, that was so unlike him but decided to drop it.

A few moments later, there's a knock on their door. Steve gets up from his spot on the sofa and opens the door.

"Hello, knuckleheads," Nat greets as she walks in, plopping herself on the spot Steve was previously sitting in.

"Good morning," Wanda chirps, setting paper bags down on their kitchen counter. "We come bringing bagels."

"This is why Wanda is my favorite."

"Shut up, Barnes."

The four friends sat around the dining table, feasting on the bagels and coffee the two girls had brought.

"What are you two up to today before the party?" Nat asks before taking a sip of her coffee.

"Nothing at all," Steve answers. "Did you girls want to do something before then?"

"Can't," Wanda tells him. "I have student council meeting at 2."

Bucky's eyes widen at what Wanda said. For a second, he forgot she was the secretary for the student council.

"What torture, having to do school things on the weekend," Nat comments, waving her hand dismissively. Wanda pouts at her friend.

"It's honestly not that bad, President Y/N always treats us to yummy afternoon tea when we do weekend meetings," Wanda defends.

"President Y/N, huh?" Bucky mumbles, taking another bite of his bagel.

"What a shame, that girl," Nat tuts. "Killer body and killer face, but she doesn't want to use them for her advantage."

"Didn't know you were into girls, Nat," Steve chuckles.

"Won't say I am, but if I were a guy, I'd go for her," Nat explains. "More coffee?"

"Yes, please," Bucky replies, sticking her mug out for Nat to pour more coffee and added 1 and a half teaspoon of sugar. "Hey, Wanda, where did you say your meeting was going to be at?"

At exactly 1:50 in the afternoon, Bucky escorts Wanda to Café 19XX by the school's main entrance. Steve and Nat had decided to stay in and have a South Park marathon and Wanda had questioned him when he offered to walk her to her meeting.

"Okay, time to spill, Barnes," Wanda says the moment they arrive at the door of the café.

"' Bout what?"

"You've never taken an interest in my extra-curricular activities and even laughed at me when I said I was running for student council secretary." Bucky just shrugs at what she pointed out and pushed the door open for Wanda. They both make their way to the counter, and right in front of them in line was Y/N.

"President!" Wanda greets, tapping her shoulder.

"Hey, Wanda," Y/N smiles at the girl as she took another step forward in line. Her eyes drift to the tall figure next to Wanda and she raises an eyebrow.

"Hey, Miss President," Bucky greets her with a boyish grin.

"Barnes," she greets back with a nod.

"Hey, Y/N and friends! Welcome to Café 19XX, will you three be ordering together?" the man at the counter asks.

"Yes, we are, Scott," Y/N answers. "Can I get one mocha latte with low-fat milk," Wanda smiles as she realized Y/N was ordering for her. "And you, Mr. Barnes?"

"Americano with one and a half teaspoon of sugar," he answers her, taking a step closer to the counter and reaching for his wallet.

"Actually, make it two americanos, both with one and a half teaspoon of sugar," Y/N tells Scott and Bucky's eyes widen in surprise.

"Alrighty, that'll be $11.70," Scott tells them after putting their orders in. Before Y/N could take her purse out, Bucky passes a credit card over to Scott. Y/N furrows her eyebrows and looks over the Bucky, who was 'focused' on the slip Scott was asking him to sign. She grabs a $10 note from her purse and passes it to him.

"Don't worry about it," Bucky tells her, pushing the bill back.

Wanda stood behind the two with a small smile on her face. She had no idea when the two had started talking to each other, but she thought it was adorable.

Bucky sat on a table a couple seats away from theirs while they held their meeting. The meeting was nearly 2 hours long, but Bucky didn't mind at all. He kept his eyes on his phone, but his ears were eavesdropping on their meeting.

"So, all we're missing for the winter formal is the list of candidates running for Winter King and Queen?" Wanda asks, ticking off the list on their agenda for today.

"Yes," Vision, the treasurer, answers. "The list should be in by Monday next week."

"Are you signing up this year, Y/N?" Tony, the vice president, asks.

"Tony Stark, does it look like we have time to be signing up for things like that when we have to be on our feet all night during the event?" Y/N raises an eyebrow and chuckles when Tony mumbles a no.

Bucky looks up when he hears her chuckle. He has never really seen her smile and it was refreshing to see her joking around.

"Alright, that's it for today, guys and Wanda," Y/N announces, standing up from her seat. "Thank you for your time."

The other 5 follow her and stand up. They say their goodbyes and everyone starts to leave except Y/N, who sits back down.

"Alright, let's head back to yours?" Wanda asks, walking over to where Bucky was sitting. He glances back over to where Y/N sat and Wanda glances over to where he was looking. 

"She usually stays until really late at night."

Bucky nods in understanding as the two start making their way back to Bucky and Steve's shared apartment.

By 7 PM that night, the 4 made their way to Sam Wilson's house, who luckily only lives 3 blocks away from where Bucky and Steve did.

"You made it!" Sam cheers as the 4 walked in, handing them each a beer.

"Let's go dance!" Nat shouts to Wanda over the music before pulling her away from the group.

Bucky bobs his head to the music and scans the room. In the corner, he sees Tony Stark talking to some of the freshmen and he starts to wonder if Y/N would be here too.

A couple of drinks and dances later, Bucky decides to step out with Sam for a smoke.

"So, what's been up with you?" Sam asks him.

"Not much, we don't go back to training till spring, so Steve and I have just been hanging around."

"Yeah? Thinking of getting a girlfriend to keep you company this winter?" Sam asks him then takes another puff of his cigarette. The corner of Bucky's lips curved up when Sam mentions the word girlfriend and that doesn't go unnoticed by Sam.

"Eyyy," Sam teases, nudging Bucky in the arm. "Who's the lucky girl that has Mr. James Barnes all smiley?"

Bucky jabs Sam back and tells him to shut up, but that little smile never leaves his lips.

Bucky quickly glances at his watch before the two make their way back in. Realizing it was only 10 PM, he decided to grab his coat and head out, telling his friends he was feeling a coffee and getting weird looks from them.

"Why the hell is he getting a coffee at 10 PM at night?" Nat asks, watching Bucky's figure walking out of the door.

"I know where he's going," Wanda sings and skips over to the refreshments table to get another drink.

"Hi, welcome to Café 19XX, what can I get you?" a younger male greets Bucky as he walks in the warm cafe. He takes a quick glance around as he made his way to the counter and sure enough, he sees Y/N sitting in the same table as this afternoon.

"Could I get two hot Americanos with one and a half teaspoon of sugar in each," Bucky orders.

"Oh wow, that's specific," the male behind the counter, Peter, mumbles as he punches the order in. "That's how Y/N always orders it."

Bucky's ears pick up Peter's words and decides to ask him how often she's at the cafe.

"Oh, well, she comes nearly every night except Wednesday nights because she volunteers at the pound on 8th street," Peter says before shutting up, realizing he had said too much. "That'll be $5.70."

Bucky quickly hands him a 5 and a 1 before telling him to keep the change. He stands aside as he watches Scott make their coffee.

"So, you're here to see Y/N?" Scott casually asks him. Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, he didn't know how to respond to that.

"I'm just observant," Scott explains, putting the coffees on a tray. "You were here with her this afternoon, and Y/N doesn't usually hang out with new faces, so I'm guessing you're a new friend."

"You could say that," Bucky tells him as he grabs the tray the counter and walks towards the tables.

Y/N's eyes were so focused on the screen of her laptop she didn't see someone put a tray on the table, pull back the seat across her, or sit down. She only looked up when someone's knees had lightly bumped against hers when they tried to adjust their position on their seat.

"Hey," Bucky greets with a small smile. "Coffee?"

Y/N's eyes widen in surprise before she sets her laptop aside and takes one of the mugs from the tray.

"What brings you here?" she asks him.

"Oh, nothing, I was in the area and I saw you still sitting here."

"Bull, Barnes," she tells him, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. "You were at Sam Wilson's party."

"What makes you say that?" 

"Your eyes are a bit bloodshot, meaning you've probably been drinking, and you're in that leather jacket you wore yesterday night at that party," Y/N explains. "So, what brings you here?"

"I figured you'd still be here, so I decided to ditch and check," Bucky finally confesses, a boyish grin never leaving his face.

Y/N couldn't hold back the small chuckle that escaped her and she shook her head. Was this the 'bad-ass' James Barnes everyone on campus gushed about? 

In the middle of their conversation, Bucky's phone that sat on the table starts ringing and they both glance down to see Steve was calling.

"Sorry," Bucky apologizes.

"Nothing to apologize for," Y/N tells him. "Go pick it up." There was a tiny part of Y/N that would be disappointed if he had to go, but she couldn't tell him that. She expected to see him take the phone call elsewhere, but he had picked it up in front of her.

"Hey, bud," Bucky greets. "What's up?"

Y/N could hear Steve's voice over the phone and she pretended to be occupied with the edge of her mug.

"Buck, where y' at? Are you coming back?"

Bucky takes a glance at the girl in front of him, staring intently at her mug. Her eyes peek at Bucky and when she realized he was looking at her, her eyes went back to the same spot she was staring at. 

"Actually, I'm not. Get the girls home safe," he tells Steve before hanging up. He puts his phone away and looks back at Y/N to see her smile at him, and two continue their conversation until Scott kicks them out.

Back at the party...

"Bucky's not coming back to the party?" Nat asks in surprise. "He loves parties!"

"I know," Steve whispers, looking at his phone. "Was that really Bucky I was talking to? He's always the last one to leave parties and he hasn't even made out with anyone yet."

Next to the two, Wanda stands up from her spot on the staircase.

"Well, with her, he's a better man."

[nineteenseventeenbarnes00]

BETTER MAN

Pairing: CollegeAU! Bucky x reader World Count: 2556 Genre: fluff Warnings: n/a

James Buchanan Barnes, also known as Bucky, was well known on the basketball court for his skills and on campus for his sharp jaw and bright blue eyes. He and his best friend Steve Rogers were the eye candies of the school, every girl wanted to be with them, and every guy wanted to be them.

It was a quarter to 3 AM on a Saturday, where would Bucky be? At a house party near the college campus, of course. After making out with some random chick the last half an hour, the air inside started to feel too thick so he decided to step outside to get some fresh air.

Bucky stepped over some random person who probably got too drunk and fell asleep on the front porch and walked onto the paved path and to the tree right by the main driveway. He patted his pockets, looking for his cigarettes.

As he lit his cigarette, a girl with a hood over her head and her hands full of books, scurried passed him. Usually, he'd pay no mind to people he didn't know, but Bucky was a little tipsy from all the drinks he had drowned, so he decided to say something to her.

"Where 'ya heading to so late at night?"

Her head shoots up too quickly at his voice, making her hood fall off the top. With his cigarette between his lips, Bucky's blurry eyes take second to recognize the girl – it was Y/N Y/L/N – the student council president who was known to be a huge nerd but had the face and body of a model. She was well known for paying zero attention to anyone who tried to hit on her and was always focused on school-related work.

"Well, Mr. Barnes, the café next to campus closes at 2 AM, so I'm heading home now." She responds to him in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You know who I am?"

"Who doesn't?" she rolls her eyes in a bored manner. Bucky's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He wasn't used to girls other than his friends Wanda and Nat talking to him in their normal voice, they usually had their shy or sultry voice on when speaking to either him or Steve.

"You study from day to night?" Bucky asks, shoving his hands in his pocket, the cold air blowing.

"Not just studying," she replies, shifting the books in her arms. "Not today anyway, I was preparing the proposal for the winter formal."

Bucky's mouth formed an O. For a second, he forgot campus events don't just happen, someone had to be behind them.

"Get home safe, have a good night," Y/N says before she starts to walk away.

Grinning as he thought of the most random conversation he has had in a while, Bucky throws the rest of the cigarette stick on the ground, stomping on it before he heads back inside.

The next day, Bucky wakes up in his bed. After heading back inside the house after his chat with Y/N, he got Steve, who gave him a weird look when he told him he wanted to go home, and they both headed back to their shared apartment.

"What's up with you?" Steve asks Bucky as he came out of his room.

"What?" Bucky asks, plopping himself on the sofa and letting out a big yawn.

"We usually don't come home till the sun starts rising," Steve explains, learning on the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.

"Dunno didn't feel like it," Bucky answers before turning the television on. Steve rose an eyebrow at his answer, that was so unlike him but decided to drop it.

A few moments later, there's a knock on their door. Steve gets up from his spot on the sofa and opens the door.

"Hello, knuckleheads," Nat greets as she walks in, plopping herself on the spot Steve was previously sitting in.

"Good morning," Wanda chirps, setting paper bags down on their kitchen counter. "We come bringing bagels."

"This is why Wanda is my favorite."

"Shut up, Barnes."

The four friends sat around the dining table, feasting on the bagels and coffee the two girls had brought.

"What are you two up to today before the party?" Nat asks before taking a sip of her coffee.

"Nothing at all," Steve answers. "Did you girls want to do something before then?"

"Can't," Wanda tells him. "I have student council meeting at 2."

Bucky's eyes widen at what Wanda said. For a second, he forgot she was the secretary for the student council.

"What torture, having to do school things on the weekend," Nat comments, waving her hand dismissively. Wanda pouts at her friend.

"It's honestly not that bad, President Y/N always treats us to yummy afternoon tea when we do weekend meetings," Wanda defends.

"President Y/N, huh?" Bucky mumbles, taking another bite of his bagel.

"What a shame, that girl," Nat tuts. "Killer body and killer face, but she doesn't want to use them for her advantage."

"Didn't know you were into girls, Nat," Steve chuckles.

"Won't say I am, but if I were a guy, I'd go for her," Nat explains. "More coffee?"

"Yes, please," Bucky replies, sticking her mug out for Nat to pour more coffee and added 1 and a half teaspoon of sugar. "Hey, Wanda, where did you say your meeting was going to be at?"

At exactly 1:50 in the afternoon, Bucky escorts Wanda to Café 19XX by the school's main entrance. Steve and Nat had decided to stay in and have a South Park marathon and Wanda had questioned him when he offered to walk her to her meeting.

"Okay, time to spill, Barnes," Wanda says the moment they arrive at the door of the café.

"' Bout what?"

"You've never taken an interest in my extra-curricular activities and even laughed at me when I said I was running for student council secretary." Bucky just shrugs at what she pointed out and pushed the door open for Wanda. They both make their way to the counter, and right in front of them in line was Y/N.

"President!" Wanda greets, tapping her shoulder.

"Hey, Wanda," Y/N smiles at the girl as she took another step forward in line. Her eyes drift to the tall figure next to Wanda and she raises an eyebrow.

"Hey, Miss President," Bucky greets her with a boyish grin.

"Barnes," she greets back with a nod.

"Hey, Y/N and friends! Welcome to Café 19XX, will you three be ordering together?" the man at the counter asks.

"Yes, we are, Scott," Y/N answers. "Can I get one mocha latte with low-fat milk," Wanda smiles as she realized Y/N was ordering for her. "And you, Mr. Barnes?"

"Americano with one and a half teaspoon of sugar," he answers her, taking a step closer to the counter and reaching for his wallet.

"Actually, make it two americanos, both with one and a half teaspoon of sugar," Y/N tells Scott and Bucky's eyes widen in surprise.

"Alrighty, that'll be $11.70," Scott tells them after putting their orders in. Before Y/N could take her purse out, Bucky passes a credit card over to Scott. Y/N furrows her eyebrows and looks over the Bucky, who was 'focused' on the slip Scott was asking him to sign. She grabs a $10 note from her purse and passes it to him.

"Don't worry about it," Bucky tells her, pushing the bill back.

Wanda stood behind the two with a small smile on her face. She had no idea when the two had started talking to each other, but she thought it was adorable.

Bucky sat on a table a couple seats away from theirs while they held their meeting. The meeting was nearly 2 hours long, but Bucky didn't mind at all. He kept his eyes on his phone, but his ears were eavesdropping on their meeting.

"So, all we're missing for the winter formal is the list of candidates running for Winter King and Queen?" Wanda asks, ticking off the list on their agenda for today.

"Yes," Vision, the treasurer, answers. "The list should be in by Monday next week."

"Are you signing up this year, Y/N?" Tony, the vice president, asks.

"Tony Stark, does it look like we have time to be signing up for things like that when we have to be on our feet all night during the event?" Y/N raises an eyebrow and chuckles when Tony mumbles a no.

Bucky looks up when he hears her chuckle. He has never really seen her smile and it was refreshing to see her joking around.

"Alright, that's it for today, guys and Wanda," Y/N announces, standing up from her seat. "Thank you for your time."

The other 5 follow her and stand up. They say their goodbyes and everyone starts to leave except Y/N, who sits back down.

"Alright, let's head back to yours?" Wanda asks, walking over to where Bucky was sitting. He glances back over to where Y/N sat and Wanda glances over to where he was looking. 

"She usually stays until really late at night."

Bucky nods in understanding as the two start making their way back to Bucky and Steve's shared apartment.

By 7 PM that night, the 4 made their way to Sam Wilson's house, who luckily only lives 3 blocks away from where Bucky and Steve did.

"You made it!" Sam cheers as the 4 walked in, handing them each a beer.

"Let's go dance!" Nat shouts to Wanda over the music before pulling her away from the group.

Bucky bobs his head to the music and scans the room. In the corner, he sees Tony Stark talking to some of the freshmen and he starts to wonder if Y/N would be here too.

A couple of drinks and dances later, Bucky decides to step out with Sam for a smoke.

"So, what's been up with you?" Sam asks him.

"Not much, we don't go back to training till spring, so Steve and I have just been hanging around."

"Yeah? Thinking of getting a girlfriend to keep you company this winter?" Sam asks him then takes another puff of his cigarette. The corner of Bucky's lips curved up when Sam mentions the word girlfriend and that doesn't go unnoticed by Sam.

"Eyyy," Sam teases, nudging Bucky in the arm. "Who's the lucky girl that has Mr. James Barnes all smiley?"

Bucky jabs Sam back and tells him to shut up, but that little smile never leaves his lips.

Bucky quickly glances at his watch before the two make their way back in. Realizing it was only 10 PM, he decided to grab his coat and head out, telling his friends he was feeling a coffee and getting weird looks from them.

"Why the hell is he getting a coffee at 10 PM at night?" Nat asks, watching Bucky's figure walking out of the door.

"I know where he's going," Wanda sings and skips over to the refreshments table to get another drink.

"Hi, welcome to Café 19XX, what can I get you?" a younger male greets Bucky as he walks in the warm cafe. He takes a quick glance around as he made his way to the counter and sure enough, he sees Y/N sitting in the same table as this afternoon.

"Could I get two hot Americanos with one and a half teaspoon of sugar in each," Bucky orders.

"Oh wow, that's specific," the male behind the counter, Peter, mumbles as he punches the order in. "That's how Y/N always orders it."

Bucky's ears pick up Peter's words and decides to ask him how often she's at the cafe.

"Oh, well, she comes nearly every night except Wednesday nights because she volunteers at the pound on 8th street," Peter says before shutting up, realizing he had said too much. "That'll be $5.70."

Bucky quickly hands him a 5 and a 1 before telling him to keep the change. He stands aside as he watches Scott make their coffee.

"So, you're here to see Y/N?" Scott casually asks him. Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, he didn't know how to respond to that.

"I'm just observant," Scott explains, putting the coffees on a tray. "You were here with her this afternoon, and Y/N doesn't usually hang out with new faces, so I'm guessing you're a new friend."

"You could say that," Bucky tells him as he grabs the tray the counter and walks towards the tables.

Y/N's eyes were so focused on the screen of her laptop she didn't see someone put a tray on the table, pull back the seat across her, or sit down. She only looked up when someone's knees had lightly bumped against hers when they tried to adjust their position on their seat.

"Hey," Bucky greets with a small smile. "Coffee?"

Y/N's eyes widen in surprise before she sets her laptop aside and takes one of the mugs from the tray.

"What brings you here?" she asks him.

"Oh, nothing, I was in the area and I saw you still sitting here."

"Bull, Barnes," she tells him, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. "You were at Sam Wilson's party."

"What makes you say that?" 

"Your eyes are a bit bloodshot, meaning you've probably been drinking, and you're in that leather jacket you wore yesterday night at that party," Y/N explains. "So, what brings you here?"

"I figured you'd still be here, so I decided to ditch and check," Bucky finally confesses, a boyish grin never leaving his face.

Y/N couldn't hold back the small chuckle that escaped her and she shook her head. Was this the 'bad-ass' James Barnes everyone on campus gushed about? 

In the middle of their conversation, Bucky's phone that sat on the table starts ringing and they both glance down to see Steve was calling.

"Sorry," Bucky apologizes.

"Nothing to apologize for," Y/N tells him. "Go pick it up." There was a tiny part of Y/N that would be disappointed if he had to go, but she couldn't tell him that. She expected to see him take the phone call elsewhere, but he had picked it up in front of her.

"Hey, bud," Bucky greets. "What's up?"

Y/N could hear Steve's voice over the phone and she pretended to be occupied with the edge of her mug.

"Buck, where y' at? Are you coming back?"

Bucky takes a glance at the girl in front of him staring intently at her mug. Her eyes peek at Bucky and when she realized he was looking at her, her eyes went back to the same spot she was staring at. 

"Actually, I'm not. Get the girls home safe," he tells Steve before hanging up.

He puts his phone away and looks back at Y/N to see her smile at him, and two continue their conversation until Scott kicks them out.

Back at the party...

"Bucky's not coming back to the party?" Nat asks in surprise. "He loves parties!"

"I know," Steve whispers, looking at his phone. "Was that really Bucky I was talking to? He's always the last one to leave parties and he hasn't even made out with anyone yet."

Next to the two, Wanda stands up from her spot on the staircase.

"Well, with her love, he's a better man."

______________________

a/n edited!

[jamesbarnesappreciationsociety]

James Barnes Family Man Part 1: Isabella Marie

Summary: Discovering love in an unexpected place.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC Jillian

Additional Character: Isabella Marie

Warnings: Extreme fluff

Word Count: 1,322

A/N: The first chapter of “James Barnes Family Man.” It’s my first series! Thanks to @suz-123 for helping me. Any grammatical and punctuation errors were made by yours truly.

COMMENTS ALWAYS WELCOME!!!

Ah, yes Father’s Day, the hallowed 3rd Sunday in June. Some dad’s consider it Holy Grail Sunday because their loved ones showers them with breakfast in bed, homemade crafts, and a vast array of gifts; ranging from ties, tools, and fishing equipment.

Too bad for James Buchanan Barnes, although he wanted kids, his fragile mind told him no child would ever love a monster like him. Little did he know, the stars aligned perfectly and his dream would come true. Jillian brought sunshine into the dark and dismal caverns in his head.

Their meeting was pure happenstance. He, Steve and Sam decided to explore the city. Since neither super soldier had ever been to a department store in the 21st century, this turned into a field trip!

As the trio meandered through a maze of aisles and people at Macy’s, someone caught his eye. There she was at the Men’s Fragrance counter, cherry brown shoulder length hair, olive skin, brilliant smile and well defined figure. It wasn’t his intention to buy anything but all of a sudden he needed, no wanted cologne.

“S’cuse me ma’am. Can’ya tell me what smells good nowadays?

“Good afternoon sir. My goodness, there’s so many to choose from. You have no idea what you’d like?”

“Nah. What would you like to smell on a man?”

Tapping a finger on her perfect chin, Jillian chose “Invictus” by Paco Rabanne.

She sprayed a small piece of construction paper and handed it to Bucky..

“Wow, this is nice. You’ve got good taste, Doll.” Jillian blushed.

With the transaction completed, she thanked Bucky. “Enjoy your cologne.”

Summoning courage, Bucky asked her name. “Jillian.” Her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink.

“M’James but my friends call me Bucky.” “Pleased to meet you Bucky.”

Following the initial meeting, she and Bucky met for coffee, dinner dates, picnics in the park.

Jillian explained trepidations about him meeting 3 year old Isabella Marie. Izzy, as she’s affectionately called, was abandoned by her father at birth. He no longer desired to be a parent. Bucky didn’t want a fly by night fling; he wanted forever, showing Jillian everyday.

Time had come to meet Izzy. Bucky sweated profusely. “Calm down, Buck. You’re gonna be fine pal.” Steve leaned against the door jamb. “What if she doesn’t like me? What’ll her ma think?” “Trust me, you’ll be alright.”

“Randy’s Ice Cream Emporium,” a quaint little shop with multi-colored awnings, large windows, cute blue chairs. Jillian chose here because it was Izzy’s “happy place.” Bucky brought a bouquet of flowers for Jillian and a pink rose, minus the thorns for Izzy.

Beaming, Jillian greeted Bucky. “Hi.” “Hi yourself. How are ya?” Sitting at the table coloring was the world’s cutest 3 year old. Curly brown hair, soft grey eyes and a smile that melted the hardest hearts.

“Isabella, this is James. James, this is Isabella.” “You can call me Bucky.” The little girl smiled and Bucky fell under her spell. “Hi Buckwoo. I Izzy.”

Jillian watched the interaction between her daughter and Bucky. She wasn’t afraid of his arm. It’s as if they’d known each other for years. “Here, wanna color?” “Okay.” Izzy climbed in his lap smiling.

Bucky and Izzy were two peas in a pod. Playing hide and seek, coloring and baking cookies.

Aware of ever present danger, Jillian and Izzy  moved into the compound. It was an adjustment. Izzy didn’t mind. She loved spending time with Auntie Nat and Wanna.

Tony cleared a floor the family. Izzy’s room was filled with teddy bears, dolls, tea sets and princess accessories, including tiaras and feather boas! Two more rooms became “Princess Izzy Land”. Her “kingdom” consisted of a huge playhouse, gym set with two swings, seesaw and sliding board nestled on the best indoor turf money can buy.

On any given day, Princess Izzy would “hold court”. Steve, Bucky and Sam were her loyal subjects. She instructed them to sit on the floor, placing a tiara atop their heads with a feather   boa wrapped around their necks and have tea. Jillian, Nat, Wanda and Tony stumbled upon Her Royal Highness having tea and crumpets with the oversized commoners of “Izzy Land.” Snickering in the background, flashes of light captured the moment, as raucous laughter erupted.

As Father’s Day approached, Jillian planned something special for Bucky, but at the last minute, he and Steve were called away on a mission and didn’t know if they would be home in time. She and Izzy were disappointed, especially the little one. When Bucky left, Izzy always cried. He’d already made up his mind to leave the field once he and Jillian were married. Being a full-time husband and dad outweighed missions.

Saturday before Father’s Day, Izzy whispered in her momma’s ear the surprise from her to Bucky.

Later that evening, Bucky and Steve returned. Izzy jumped from the sofa in their apartment and ran to Bucky’s waiting arms.

“Buckwoo, Buckwoo you here!!!”

“Yes sweetheart, I’m here. Missed you and your momma so much.”

Izzy wrapped her tiny arms around his neck as far as she could and kissing him on the nose and cheek. Jillian’s eyes watered. The two most important people in her life were there and all was right with the world.

Father’s Day was around the corner. Izzy enlisted Wanda’s help. “Auntie Wanna, help me write to Buckwoo.” “I’d be happy to. What should it say?”

“Dear Daddy Buckwoo, I love you. Kisses, Sugar Plum Princess Izzy.”

On the front, she colored three stick figures, Mommy, Izzy and Daddy Buckwoo, decorated with Princess stickers!

FATHER’S DAY 6:50 a.m.

Pots and pans rattled in the kitchen, startling Bucky and Jillian. Stealthily, Bucky stood in the hallway watching Izzy set up her pink wagon with cereal, juice in a sippy cup, spoon and handmade card.

“Izzy has a surprise for me. Shhhh, here she comes.”

Carefully, Izzy pulled her wagon to Bucky’s side of the bed and laid her hand on his face.

“Hey Sugar Plum, what’re you doing up so early? Is everything okay?”

“Happy Fodder’s Day Buckwoo, I love you.”

Having a family wasn’t on Bucky’s “to do” list. Fate had other ideas making it possible not only for a loving girlfriend, but a daughter as well.

“I made this for you. Auntie Wanna wote it.” On blue construction paper were 3 colored stick figures, stickers and an adorable message inside.

Bucky became emotional. “Sugar Plum, thank you so much.”

“Daddy Buckwoo, are you sad? Don’t cry.”.  

“Oh Sugar Plum, I’m not sad. Matter of fact, ya made me extremely happy.”

Jillian pulled a huge box from under the bed. “Sweetheart, here’s my gift. Open it.”

Inside, the leather jacket Bucky admired 7 months ago. “Doll, this is the jacket I wanted! How….when?”

“I’ve had it awhile. Nat kept it safe in her closet.” Bucky kissed Jillian deeply. “I gotta surprise for  you and Izzy.”

Getting down on one knee, he asked Jillian to marry him and adopt Izzy. “I ain’t good with words. You and Izzy are my world. I’d be the luckiest knucklehead in the world if ya marry me. Also, I wanna adopt Sugar Plum. How ‘bout it?”

One velvet box contained a pear shaped Vera Wang engagement ring. The second box was a small gold necklace with Isabella Marie engraved on a heart.

Jillian nodded ‘yes.’ Izzy jumped up and down on the bed singing.

Father’s Day would never be the same! James Buchanan Barnes live has come full circle.No way in hell he’d allow ANYONE to take that away from him!

@suz-123 @rebelslicious @pegasusdragontiger @goodnightwife @bolontiku @stars8melanin @ek823 @yknott81 @crazy-little-thing-called-buck

[psyched2b]

All My Heroes - Chapter Two (Steve Rogers x OFC)

Warnings: None

Author’s Note will be at the end of this chapter.

Feedback is appreciated and welcomed!

*Moodboard created by the lovely @shreddedparchment

*gif pulled from GIPHY. Tried finding OP, but link was broken! UGH

“Pardon the lack of…everything,” Cece called over her shoulder to the two men following her into the temporary home. “We’ve only been here,” she paused, trying to remember. She looked to Michael, “Six days?” It came out as more of a question.

Her brother rolled his eyes at her memory. “It’s been twenty-two days,” he corrected, moving to the makeshift counter and pulling out four glasses.

Cece flushed. She may be smart, but when it came to keeping track of time…well, that was one reason to keep her lug-head of a brother around. “Right. I take it back. I’m too lazy to unpack.”

Bucky let out a laugh and nudged her playfully. “Sounds about right.”

Steve dutifully followed the eccentric woman and paused inside the doorway, taking in the space.

Small wasn’t an exaggeration when it came to describing the hut. It was ten foot long and eight foot wide. The walls that were made from clay were painted a bright yellow, reflecting the light that streamed in through the windows on the west wall. There were two cots laid next to each other with well-loved quilts covering them, no pillows. The makeshift counter that held various pots, plates, glasses, and silverware was made from an old wooden door. Next to the counter was a large cooler where Steve assumed perishables were stored. He’d even guess that they use it for food storage to keep predators out of their supply. But what stood out to Steve was that this was obviously just a place for them to eat and sleep. There was no living here.

“You must move around a lot,” Steve commented as Cecelia handed him a glass of water.

He doesn’t miss how her eyes flick to Bucky nervously, unsure how much he may have shared.

“You can trust Steve,” Bucky encouraged, moving to lean you against the wall. He casually crossed his arms and leaned all of his weight to one side, ankles crossed. Cece had to suppress a laugh because she always thought that in another life, James Buchanan Barnes was a model.

Instead, she nodded and turned her attention back to Steve. “I’m not sure how much James told you about my gifts,” she ignored Bucky whining about calling him by his given name, “but staying in one place too long has proven to be…a challenge. People want to control what I have or would prefer to have me kept under lock and key so they could study me. Since I am neither property, prisoner, or test subject, I have to move every few weeks or so.” She nodded her head towards Michael who was pulling out things to make dinner with. “That’s another reason why he follows me around. I’m ‘just a feeble young lady who can’t fight off a squirrel’, so now I have a shadow.” Her voice deepened, mocking how presumably Michael would sound when she mentioned how ‘feeble’ she was. Cece took a drink of water before contenting, rolling her eyes. “Of course, it doesn’t matter that I can incapacitate anyone with just a thought, but that’s not something I can use in my argument apparently.”

Michael grunted from his spot, measuring out some powdery substance into a pan. “Unless they catch you unaware.”

Cece just laughed and shrugged her shoulders, giving Steve a ‘what can you do’ look.

Steve idly wondered if something had happened in her past or if she was just cautious. He made a mental note to ask later.

“Anywho,” Cece continued, setting her glass back on the counter and looked between Bucky and Steve. “I can go more into that later. Why don’t you two knuckleheads tell me what brings you in.”

Steve couldn’t keep the shock off of his face at being called knucklehead. He turned to Bucky to see what his reaction was, but his best friend let out a carefree laugh, not at all offended. Steve couldn’t remember the last time he saw Bucky so relaxed. It had to have been before the war. He was starting to wonder if there was more to this Cecelia than Bucky was aware of. He had to be cautious around her until he could make his own judgments.

He cleared his throat, calling attention to him. “Bucky mentioned that you might be able to help a….friend.” He felt awkward saying it aloud, just realizing that he would have to explain what had happened. How a man was now partially paralyzed because of him.

Bucky noticed the shift in Steve’s mood and gives him a sympathetic look. “I can explain if you would prefer,” he offered, wanting to alleviate some of Steve’s stress.

Steve adamantly shook his head. “No, I can do it. I should do it.” He turned his attention back to the small woman in front of him. “There was a fight and a good friend of mine was caught in the crossfire, leaving him with partial paralysis.” He paused, trying to think of how much he wanted to divulge about Tony and the resources that surely would have been made available for Rhodey


“And you’re wondering if I can fix your friend?” Cece asked intuitively. There was a tangible shift in her mood, more serious now than playful. This was Dr. Thompson. “Do you know what kind of treatment options he may have already been offered?”

Steve was surprised that she didn’t ask about what his injuries were, but answered her. “I don’t know for sure,” he admitted, “I only know that Tony would do his damn best to make sure Rhodey got the best care possible. No amount of funding would be an issue.”

She waved her hand at that. “People who are surgeons and need money to guide them to their next job aren’t my favorite.” Her thoughts flashed to some asshole Doctor in New York who only took patients if they were ‘interesting’ enough, but also had a chance of success. Sure, he was good at what he did, but still….what an ass. “Rhodes is the guy who was injured?” she asked for clarification. “As in, Colonel James Rhodes of the Air Force and best friends with philanthropist Tony Stark?”

She threw her head back and laughed at the look of surprise on the Captain's face, giving him a faux-sympathetic look and patted his shoulder in comfort. “I might live in Africa, but I don’t live under a rock.” She switched back from Doctor Thompson to Cecelia with an ease that caused more surprise. Steve wasn’t able to switch back and forth from Captain America to Steve Rogers like that. He wasn’t even sure he knew who Steve Rogers was anymore. Now wasn’t the time to think about that, though.

“Good to know,” he replied, unsure of what the proper response would be.

“Soup’s up.” Michael shoved a hot bowl into Steve’s chest that he caught with his hands. He chose to ignore the hostility directed at him. He was a stranger after all.

Cece wasn’t having it though and smacked her brother upside the head. “Knock it off,” she scolds. “Quit being a pansy and just admit that you’re secretly fangirling over having your childhood hero under the same roof as you.”

Steve was sure he was just as red as Michael looked.

“Shuddup,” Michael muttered under his breath, turning to get another bowl that he politely handed to Bucky and then gifted his sister with one before gathering up his own.

Cece looked back to Steve with a smug grin and Steve’s heart skipped in his chest. Was he dying? He diverted his gaze from the siblings and poked at the mush in his hands, unsure of what it was.

“It’s ugali,” Cece explained, noticing his aversion to the unfamiliar food. “Usually describe as cornmeal mush. Doesn’t look too good, but tastes great and is quite filling.” She took a bite of the ugali and let out a quiet pleased moan, playing on how good it tasted. Steve raised a skeptical eyebrow at her, but took a bite himself and was surprised that it was actually half decent. Satisfied that he would survive the new experience, she continued.

“As long as you promise that Tony Stark doesn’t blow me away in the literal sense or turn me into some science experiment, I’m willing to help.”

Chapter Three

Author’s Note: Thank you to @mermaidxatxheart for your support with this! It means the world to me to have you on my side.

Anyways, I’m going to take a temporary leave from working on “One Touch” because...well, I just lost my Aunt to a drunk driver yesterday afternoon and the next part of One Touch revolves around explaining what happened in the readers own accident and it’s too hard for me to write that right now. SO please forgive me and be patient. I promise I’m not dropping the story, but it will be a week or so before there’s any continuation on it.

Coming up in the next few days will be some Halloween Stories, so be looking for those.

I also have three drabbles and a hand full of ships that I need to do from my 200 Follower Celebration. I haven’t forgotten, it’s just been a busy week.

Anywho......

Everything Tags: @bettercallsabs @thinkwritexpress-official @mermaidxatxheart @geeksareunique @dont-stop-keep-walking

All My Heroes Tags: @deaniebean

[chiyume]

Shouting at the Stars

Prompt for February from/for the lovely @micromarvel​

Bucky finds Steve sitting on the roof of his apartment building, which is never a good sign.

The roof is cold, even during summer, and like this in late February, it’s downright freezing. It certainly isn’t the right place for a sickly person like Steve to sit without as much as a jacket over the thin material of his dress shirt. Bucky can see the way he shivers in the evening breeze where he sits by the narrow ledge running around the rooftop, narrow shoulders shaking, teeth clattering.

Steve doesn’t say a word when Bucky drapes his own jacket over him, doesn’t even move as Bucky sits down beside him, but Bucky doesn’t care. He just waits, looking out over the run-down neighbourhood in silence.

Steve’s lip is split, and there’s a bruise blooming on the ridge of his cheek. There’s blood on his collar, but there’s also spots of red covering the bruised surface of his knuckles. Bucky had expected no less. After all, it wouldn’t be like Steve to go down without a fight.

They sit there for maybe five full minutes without making so much as a sound, but then the words finally come, low and bitter from Steve’s mouth.

“I hate being small.”

The sentence sounds a bit off, muffled and dulled as the swell of Steve’s lip makes it hard for him to shape his mouth around the words. It’s all he says for a long while, and once Bucky’s sure that’s all he’s going to get, he drags down a deep breath into his lungs before letting it out in a slow, steady sigh.

“You know,” he says carefully, “maybe you wouldn’t hate it so much if you stopped picking fights with every other fella more than twice your size?”

Steve glares at him then, but that’s nothing new. Bucky meets the stare head-on, and after a second or two, Steve looks away again.

Bucky’s pleased to see that he’s stopped shivering now; even more so when Steve sullenly tugs Bucky’s jacket tighter around himself. He nearly drowns in it, the wide collar reaching well past his ears. He’d look adorable if it hadn’t been for the battered look on his face.

Then Steve tips his head back up to the sky, and Bucky decides that he looks adorable either way.

“It’s just so frustrating,” Steve mutters under his breath, and Bucky’s heart aches a little at the crestfallen tone of his voice.

“Don’t mind them knuckleheads,” he tries, reaching out to wrap his arm around Steve’s shoulder and give him a consoling shake. “They’re just too big’a cowards to pick on somebody their own size.”

He means it as a comfort, but to his surprise, Steve just shakes his head and ducks away, shrugging Bucky’s arm off of him. “That’s not it,” he groans, wincing when the brash movement of his mouth causes the lip to start bleeding again.

“Inner pocket,” Bucky says simply, and Steve obediently pulls out Bucky’s handkerchief from within the depths of the jacket, bringing it up to his mouth.

“I don’t care that they pick on me,” he clarifies into the hanky, and Bucky arches a curious eyebrow at him.

“That purple tint on you mug says differently,” he points out, and Steve scoffs as he hangs his head back down.

“They weren’t after me,” he reports sourly, and Bucky instantly squares his shoulders.

“They?” he asks grimly. “As in more than one?”

“Don’t,” Steve orders, but then his posture slumps, and he lowers Bucky’s handkerchief down into his lap. “They came out from Nancy’s. Three of them, drunk as all hell. I was heading the other way, and I heard them—” He cuts himself off with a frustrated groan. “They went after Oscar Callaghan.”’

“Baker’s kid?” Bucky asks with a frown, and Steve nods. He looks sad, but Bucky can see the anger seething just underneath the surface as clearly as he can see the warmth of his own breath turn into mist in front of him in the cold night air.

“I couldn’t let them,” Steve explains. His knuckles are white against the fabric in his hands, the dried blood standing out sharply against his skin even in the dark. “He’s not even sixteen years old, Buck, he—” He swallows the sentence down, and Bucky’s gut churns. Anger, relief, pride; all of it mixing together into something live and feral that spreads through his veins like a fever. He lowers his head down, tearing his eyes away from the bloodied handkerchief in Steve’s grip.

“You didn’t happen to catch their names, did ya?” he asks tightly.

“No,” Steve answers. Bucky knows it’s a lie, but he also knows that trying to push for an answer will get him nowhere.

“If I were bigger—” Steve starts, and it cuts into Bucky’s soul to hear the croak that escapes from the back of his throat as he continues, “I would have been able to help him for real. Chase them off, you know… Like you do.”

He gives Bucky a quick, almost shy glance out of the corner of his eye, and even though Bucky forces himself to smile back, he’s not sure whether or not Steve actually sees it before he’s already turned away again.

Bucky gets it. Truly, he does. Of course Steve would never leave someone to fend for themselves, not even when doing so would put him in harm’s way. Sadly, that’s the only way of helping Steve knows; to act as decoy while the original victim flees. The results, as made evident by the state Bucky had found Steve in tonight, are always the same.

“Fuck, I hate bullies…” Steve suddenly mutters, and Bucky lets out a snort of surprise at the other’s so uncharacteristically crude choice of words. He looks Steve up and down, taking in the sight of him where he sits, huddled up in Bucky’s clothes like a child, and his insides swell with the sudden rush of admiration for the man beside him.

“Did Oscar get away?” he asks softly, and Steve shrugs.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, and Bucky’s lips curl up in a fond smile.

“Then what are you whining about?” he teases. “The kid’s fine because of you. You made yourself someone’s hero today.” At that, Steve snorts out an incredulous laugh, and Bucky reaches out to tap his knuckles gently against the other’s temple. “And don’t worry about those other guys,” he orders. “You’ll get the drop on them one day, you’ll see.”

“Whatever you say, Buck,” Steve agrees halfheartedly. Then he groans and buries his face against Bucky’s shoulder. “It’s just so frustrating,” he complains, words partially muffled by the fabric, and Bucky laughs as he nudges him up into a sitting position once more.

“Then maybe you just need to let that frustration out?” he suggests, and Steve frowns at him.

“How?” he asks skeptically.

“I don’t know,” Bucky admits. “What do you feel like doing? Like, when you think about it, what does it make you wanna do?”

Steve shakes his head, sighing heavily. “Honestly?” he asks. “It just makes me wanna punch something. Or scream.”

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that you’ve done enough punching for today,” Bucky says with a laugh. He looks at Steve again, and then he stands up, gesturing for Steve to follow his lead. “Get up here,” he orders, tugging at Steve’s borrowed jacket.

“What are we doing?” Steve asks warily, even as he does as he’s told.

“We’re gonna scream,” Bucky announces confidently, and Steve lets out another short, disbelieving laugh.

“No, we’re not,” he announces firmly, but Bucky won’t have any of it.

“Sure we are,” he argues. “Look, it’s easy. You stand up straight, grab a mouthful of air, and then you just…” Following his own instructions, he lets out a yell, as loud as he can, and his voice reverberates between the buildings around them like the ring of an explosion.

The silence that follows after the final echo has rung out only lasts for a second. As a dog begins to bark from somewhere below them, Bucky turns towards Steve with his arms triumphantly thrown out by his sides. “See?” he says, smiling widely, but Steve just laughs at him while shaking his head.

“You’re insane,” he declares, and in return, Bucky sends him a wolfish grin.

“Maybe,” he admits, “but it felt good.” He nudges Steve in the side. “Go on, you try.”

“No way,” Steve chuckles.

“Come on,” Bucky coaxes. “Just once.”

Steve glares at him, but when Bucky only responds by expectantly raising his brow at him, he turns towards the ledge of the rood with a sigh.

He does, in fact, yell, but Bucky would lie if he were to call it an actual attempt.

“That,” he says flatly when Steve turns back to him again, “was pathetic.”

“Was not,” Steve objects, but Bucky just shakes his head and waves a reprimanding finger at him.

“You can do better,” he decides. “C’mon, all the way from your toes this time.”  

“What if I get an asthma attack?” Steve asks defiantly.

“You won’t,” Bucky says with unabashed confidence, and as Steve shuts his mouth, Bucky just winks at him. “On the count of three,” he says, turning out towards the horizon, watching Steve follow suit. “One. Two. Three.”

They scream, shouting at the stars above their heads from the very top of their lungs. Their voices bounce between the surrounding apartments, winding through the alleyways below, and throughout it all, Bucky can see from the corner of his eye that Steve’s smiling.

Someone, somewhere, opens a window, shouting out curses at them, which are only partially drowned out by the loud barks of at least three dogs nearby. The cacophony does nothing but send them both head-first into a desperate giggling fit as they quickly pull back from the ledge, ducking their heads down and clutching at each other’s arms while trying to avoid being seen.

“Oops,” Bucky snickers, upon which Steve – still giggling – gives him a shallow punch to the arm, only to wince out a laugh when the hit makes his knuckles hurt all over again.

“Feels better now though, doesn’t it?” Bucky asks, and Steve takes a moment to glance down at his feet – down at those raggedy, newspaper-filled shoes that Bucky both loves and hates all at the same time – before looking back up again.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “It actually does.”

“Told ya,” Bucky muses. He reaches out and gives Steve’s shoulder a light shove, before stepping forward to wrap an arm around his neck, yanking him in for a hug. “Damn punk,” he mutters fondly.

“Jerk,” Steve replies, before adding, a bit more seriously. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, pal,” Bucky offers. He gives Steve’s shoulders another hard squeeze before stepping back to shove his hands down the pocket of his trousers with an exaggerated shudder. “But next time you feel like sulking around up here, bring your own goddamn jacket, will ya? Jeez, I’m freezing my ass off.”

“You want it back?” Steve asks, already moving to take the garment off, but Bucky waves him away.

“Nah. You keep it on until we get back inside,” he decides. “For some reason I think you’d be worse off catching pneumonia than me.”

“Probably,” Steve agrees. He looks up at the sky, eyes wide and clear in the dark, and inside Bucky’s chest, his heart skips a beat without his consent.

“C’mon.” Bucky makes a throw of his head towards the fire escape, smiling. “Let’s head down to Nancy’s. First pint’s my treat.”

“It’s always your treat,” Steve points out while walking ahead towards the stairs.

“Does that matter?” Bucky asks sweetly.

“No,” Steve admits. “Not really.” He turns to look at Bucky again, one foot on the fire escape, and the other on the ledge. “Besides,” he adds cheekily, “what’s the point in being a hero if I have to pay for my own drinks?”

At that, Bucky laughs, and Steve gives him a wide, generous smile as he begins to head down the fire escape. Bucky watches him go, and then sends a final look at the stars above, before going after him.

Hero or not, Bucky’s still certain that he’ll follow that kid across the plains of the Earth, should Steve only ask him to.

After all, what are friends for?