#gotta be all serious n broody am I right

[kartsie]

Going back through art I never finished/posted and finding some gems

[shurisneakers]

harmless (x)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety, smidge of angst, mentions of violence

Word count: 7.8k (i went overboard. clearly.)

A/N: as well all know, i am a humanities student writing science geeks. if any of this sounds unrealistic or nonsensical, it’s because it is and i am honestly too exhausted to research data privacy and AI so here’s my take on how STEM should work i.e. the power of friendship  <3 major shoutout to @iamlittlesparkler for the idea for this chapter!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

“As you know, we have a busy week ahead of us.” 

Coffees line the conference room table, pens click against the stacks of paper that settle in front of various agents and the smell of deodorant mixed with post-training sweat lingers at the back of the room like a disgusting witch concoction. 

“The annual parade is coming up and since there are a few security threats, SHIELD has been asked to step in. Therefore, all of you will be working security this week, possibly even at the parade.” Murmurs broke out in the room the minute this was said; mostly from first year field agents who were way too excited to have earpieces and fingerless gloves. 

Bucky, on the other hand, doesn’t think much of it. They’ve dealt with threats before, most were declared empty the minute it got out that SHIELD or the Avengers were involved. It’s the 12th one that year. 

“That’s only if we don’t catch it first,” Steve continued. “Our first priority is precaution. The tech and analytics teams are working on it. However, if you see anything suspicious, bring it up with Director Fury. He’s going to be around to make sure we’re not overlooking anything. Do you have any questions?”

More whispers erupted at the mention of Fury’s name. Wait till they realise he lives up to his name when they accidentally manage to set him off just by existing incorrectly.

Bucky smirks at the thought.

“You can leave then.” Steve straightens up as chairs shuffle against the carpeted floor, over twenty people leaving the room.

“And remember, if you see an eagle today, be sure to stand there and thank it on behalf of Steve for its service. Freedom! Liberty! And whatever else,” Tony calls out from the corner of the room, earning a sigh from the captain. Others only snicker as they close the door behind them.

“Thanks.” Steve stares at him stone faced, bemused at the symbolism that had been bestowed upon him.

“Gotta keep the patriotism high.” The only ones that remain are the official team. Bucky thinks that he should have left with the other agents but apparently, it was rude and not a good show of team spirit.

“How serious is this threat anyway?” Clint has his head face down on the table, hand holding his to-go coffee cup so it doesn’t fall over. 

“We’re not sure.” Steve finally takes a seat on the chair in front of him. “It’s the biggest event we’ve had this year, wouldn’t put it past them.”

“If it’s those Welsh kids again, I’m gonna punch a hole through their house this time,” Clint warns, voice muffled through the furniture. 

“It’s not them, we checked.” Nat had her leg up on the armrest of Clint’s chair. “Tech team’s been working overtime to figure it out.”

“You have anything that could help?” Sam sends a nod towards Tony.

“I got a few things but it’d take a while to put it together.” 

“Didn’t you learn quantum physics in a night?” Wanda’s picking apart a cookie into pieces, chewing slowly.

“Thermodynamic astrophysics,” he corrects her. “Quantum science took lesser.”

Bucky scoffs slightly at the brag, eyes still trained on the table in front of him. Maybe if he made no noise, they would forget he’s here.

“Yeah, so this should be a piece’a cake.”  

“If your cake was somehow made out of a highly specified tracker that somehow doesn’t violate the data privacy of the entire world while analysing millions of terabytes worth of information, then yeah. A piece of it.”

“What he means to say-” Bruce interjects, “-is that we’re trying. It’s just taking longer than usual.”

“Well, the parade’s this Sunday. Think it’ll be done by then?”

“Hey FRIDAY,” Tony crosses his arm over his chest. “How many hours have I slept this week?”

“Three and a half, boss.”

“How much more will I be getting?”

“From previous experience, about six.”

“Yeah, we can get it done.” Tony looks back at Steve. 

“Ask someone on the tech team to help you out.” Everyone was well aware of Tony’s bad coping mechanisms and how futile it was to get him to change his mind about it, but they still tried.

“They’re too busy.” Bruce pressed his lips into a straight line. 

Bucky tunes out at this point. If he could help, he would have reluctantly chimed in by now, but he couldn’t. 

“So what now?” Sam rips Clint’s doughnut into two, keeping one half for himself while leaving the other to the latter who still hadn’t lifted his head up from the table.

“I actually asked Fury if I could call in an external to come help,” Tony pipes up. 

“And he agreed?” Nat raised an eyebrow.

“After he realised I wasn’t going to leave his office until he said yes.” He pulled out his phone, rapidly typing out a message before hitting send. “It didn’t take too long.”

“Do we know this person?” Steve asks a little suspiciously.

“Well-” Bruce sneaks a glance at the broody man on the chair, “-kinda.”

Everyone can tell Bucky isn’t paying attention by the way he’s glaring holes into the plant. He doesn’t mean to, it just so happens that it looks like he wants to kill it. Nobody tends to bother him during meetings, knowing well and fully that he did not care.

“You’re about to.” Tony jumps up, making his way to the door to pull it open.

Bucky perks up. An open door means they can leave, right? He can go watch The Bachelor? He’s not sure what everyone was talking about, but if the meeting was over he could go ask Wanda who was always kind enough to help.

“Our newest recruit,” the billionaire announces, quickly adding the next part, “on a trial basis.” 

Bucky looks at the door.

His jaw drops open.

“No,” he says loudly, posture immediately stiff as a plank. 

“Hello to you too, Barnes.” You roll your eyes before sending a small wave to everyone else. “Hey everyone.”

“What are you doing here?” He looks like he’s seething. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot about our date.” You cross your arms over your chest in defiance. “You told me 3 o’clock, you player.”

“What is she doing here?” He whips to Steve for an answer.

“Hey Y/N,” Sam greets with a smile on his face before Steve can reply.

“Sam Wilson, good to see you again.” You grin.

“Right back at ya, sugar.” 

Wanda looks amused, Clint finally lifts his head off the table at the mention of your name while Nat takes her feet off his armrest, and Steve’s body relaxes when he realises what’s going on. 

“Okay.” Tony claps his hand. Bucky shoots daggers at him. “As you all know, this is Y/N. She’s going to working with us this week.”

“This is ridi- how did you even find out about her?”

“Aside from the fact that she’s all you talk about?” Clint snorts. Bucky shifts his glare to him. It was bullshit and an exaggeration and Clint was going to get a shoe up his ass very soon.

Your grin only grows bigger.

“We saw one of the repulsors she made some time ago,” Bruce answers his question like the sane person that he is. “Tony’s had her in mind for a while.”

“Repulsors? How on ear-” Bucky connects two and two together before turning to Sam. “You. You got her this job.”

“Sam’s my best wingman.” You send him a small heart made from your hands. Whether the pun was intentional or not, no one would know.

“Don’t look at me, I had nothing to do with this idea.” Sam raised his hands to brush off the blame.

“You’re a villain,” he points out loudly.

“I’m a saint.” You raise your hand to your heart in mock offence. “I have done nothing wrong in my life, ever.”

“Listen, Robocop,” Tony interrupts your conversation, bringing the attention back to him, “I cleared it with Fury. He’s the boss here.”

“Fury doesn’t know-”

“What don’t I know?” The atmosphere of the room changes the minute he saunters in. 

With an eyepatch on his face, gaze sharp and a long black coat, Nick Fury puts Bucky’s dark outfits to shame. Not like he was competing. 

Bucky doesn’t continue his sentence. Nick’s imposing presence loomed at the doorway, putting a stop to the ridiculous arguments that were beginning to boil. Instead, he looks at you, only to find your attention trained on the man of the hour.

“Nicholas,” you half cheer from where you had shifted to in the middle of all the commotion. 

Nicholas?

Nicholas?

No one had ever called him Nicholas. 

“Y/L/N,” Nick addresses in return. “Been a while.”

“You haven’t come to the lair in months, Nick.” You pout at him. “I even sent you an invite.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows. Since when are you on such good terms with Fury? Since when was anyone on good terms with Fury?

“It must have gotten lost in the mail,” he fires back, “Or maybe it’s because I just happen to be the busiest man in the damn country. Take your pick.”

You roll your eyes, muttering something under your breath, but the good natured smile on your face shows that you didn’t take any of his passive- or straight up- aggressiveness to heart. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was interrupting your little tea time.” He looks around the rest of the room with an edge in his voice. “Don’t you all have work to do?”

“We do,” Tony interrupts, holding up his hand before pointing to Bruce and you. “Everyone else just sorta sits around and looks pretty.”

“I’m gonna go talk to the organisers, see what spots are most vulnerable.” Steve stands up. “You coming?”

“Yep,” Sam responds, flicking Clint’s shoulder to drag him along. “Come on, man. When was the last time you took a shower?”

“I’ll go see what the kids are up to in training. They’re probably flying off the handle right now.” Natasha brushes off crumbs from her lap. “Barnes, you in?”

Bucky silently shakes his head, eyes focused on you as you introduce yourself to every Avenger who walks out of the room, sharing a small fist bump with Sam.

“I’ll do it,” Wanda volunteers instead, finally leaving behind only the Science Bros, you and Bucky in the room with Fury. 

“I’ll give you a tour of the lab.” Tony beckons and you nod, following him. “New eyepatch, Fury? Prada, I assume?”

“Stark,” Nick says curtly. 

Bucky stares after you, arms still folded across his chest.

“Any problem, Sergeant?” 

Other than the fact that his arch nemesis was now working with his friends, no, not really. But that did seem like a pretty big one.

“No,” Bucky mumbles instead, getting up from his place finally.

Apparently, no one else was worried about the possibly lethal combination of you and Stark, even with Banner there to dilute it. 

Fine.

Guess he just has to observe you the whole week.

Well, half a week. It was Wednesday. 

He observes inconspicuously over the rim of his coffee cup. He has a newspaper spread in front of him at Bruce’s table. 

It’s not suspicious. He’s been there multiple times to sit in silence with the scientist who occasionally tinkers with something while engaging Bucky in tidbits of conversation. He finds it calming, refreshing even

Today he has an agenda. Everyone knows about it too. 

“You know he’s staring at you, right?” Bruce looks up briefly from the giant blueprint laid in front of the group. 

Tony had been dragged away to get a proper meal into him after he stayed up for 36 hours straight with caffeine keeping his system running. 

“He has a tendency to do that.” You’re looking over the plan the three of you had come up with the day before. There were certain changes to be made in terms of efficiency. “Turns out if you annoy him, he stares harder.”

“We’ve heard about the inventions. Inators, he calls them?”

“Yeah,” you point out something on the sheet, drawing a circle around it to come back to later, “only good things I hope?”

“He doesn’t really talk much.” Bruce writes down a small comment against your arrow mark. “But if he hated them, he’d have a lot to say. So I’d take it as a compliment.”

“Would it annoy him if I did?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment, then. Pass me the ruler?” You draw a line connecting two pieces. 

Bucky’s ability to lip read is excellent but he refuses to do it, for privacy purposes. He knew that SHIELD had pulled some strings and had another teacher substituting for your classes the whole week since your other option was to come only after school hours. Anything else about this plan was murky.

“You gonna sit there all day?” Tony looks over his shoulder, following his line of sight.

“I’ve done it before.” He continues to look over the newspaper at you with your finger extended at something on the blueprint as you explained something to Bruce.

“You look like- how do I say this nicely.” He wasn’t going to. “A fuckin’ stalker.”

“I’m supposed to stop her from doing anything evil.”

“Sure.” Tony snorts. “That’s what this is. Should I get you a fedora and sunglasses while we’re at it?”

Of course Stark wouldn’t care; he brought you into this project. It was pretty much impossible to get him to agree with Bucky.

Bucky just narrows his eyes and continues his observation. 

The menu of the cafeteria keeps changing. They like to keep things interesting.

Every time they do, Bucky spends too long staring at the menu, trying to figure out what exactly is familiar enough to order. Vietnamese week had him eating pho the entire duration it stayed.

“You plannin’ on eating anytime this century, sarge?” He recognises your voice immediately. 

He knows what time your break is and he knows that you generally eat lunch in the cafeteria with the science team. Generally, the three of you pour over solutions and debate points all through the meal, and he spends the time getting acquainted with his new, lowkey Instagram account. 

He blocks the Bucky Barnes hashtag the minute he gets an account again. God save his eyes from people asking him to break their back like a glow-stick. However, one afternoon of accidentally watching three cat videos has led to his entire explore page being taken over by them and he’s been trying for three days to get it to stop. 

“Just trying to-” he tilts his head. “-understand what I’m reading.”

“Not a big fan of Greek food?” You join him in looking at the menu. 

“Never really had the chance to try.” Tony and Bruce don’t seem to be in the room, probably pushing aside their meal to work on it as they’ve often done.

“Ah.” You already had your order in mind but you wait there. 

Two minutes later he’s still staring at the menu. He can feel your presence next to him, unmoving. It unnerves him.

“Why are you still standing here?” He cranes his neck to look at you.

“I’m just seeing how long it takes for you to order.” You shrug. “So far it’s been five minutes and forty six seconds. Forty eight now.”

“Go away.” The concept of someone standing beside him, waiting for him to do something reminded him far too much of him trying to bag his stuff at the grocery counter rapidly while other customers waited to pay. 

“Six minutes and thirty seconds. This is just sad now.”

“Your face is sad.” It was pathetic that he had now resorted to this.

It earned a laugh from you. 

As entertaining as it was to be able to get on his nerves by just standing silently next to him, you finally ask, “Do you want a recommendation?” 

He eyes you wearily. “You gonna give me food poisoning?” 

“Not today, no.” You shake your head slightly. “Maybe tomorrow.”

He stares a little longer. You remain unshaken in your offer.

“Fine.” He sighs, stepping aside. 

You tell him that since it’s his first time, you’d get him something basic. He thought it made sense. 

He argued with you when you ended up paying for the both of you, only shutting up when you told him he’s holding up the line and that he could pay you back later. It doesn’t stop his incessant mumble complaining. 

He ends up with gyros at his table and you sitting opposite him with your meal. He asks where the Science Bros are. You tell him it’s Science Hoes now, as christened by Tony, and that they’re in the lab.

“So?” You look at him eagerly.

“What?”

“How is it?” you urge, nodding at him.

He takes a cautious bite, really taking his time with it to annoy your impatient ass. 

“Well?” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“It’s-” he pauses, looking down at his food. “-good.”

“Aha.” You lean back victoriously. “Knew it.”

He likes it. He also knows that this is probably going to be the only thing he orders for the next week unless you had planned otherwise. 

“You’re not eating?” He gestures to your untouched tray.

“Taking it up to the lab. Got a few things to work on and we’re already behind.” You gather up your stuff and get up.

“Uh-” he pauses from practically inhaling the entire thing. He was already halfway done with it. “-thanks.”

“No problem. You wink at him. “Try figuring out what’s wrong with it.” 

You turn on your heel to leave, taking your order with you. He can see your shoulders bobbing with silent laughter. 

He stares down at his plate, swallowing slowly. 

He pokes at it with a fork, lifting up the leftovers to check if there’s anything underneath. Nothing. 

He checks to see if his limbs are still intact or his face was a different colour. Nope.

His stomach twists in worry about what’s going to happen. He still has a bit left but he pushes the tray aside.

The rest of the day he spends supervising you has you occasionally catching his eye, only to laugh. It only freaks him out more.

It takes eight hours of waiting and self induced tests later to realise there was nothing wrong with it. You were just playing with him.

He’s surprised to find you in the rec room when he strolls in with Sam, given that you haven’t taken a break all day.

You don’t share the same surprise... almost like you expected him.

“How long have you been waiting for me?” he immediately asks.

"I wasn’t here for you.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Heard that Wilson was makin’ an appearance here soon so I stopped by to get a good look at him."

"Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Sam laughs, inserting a dollar into the machine and punching in the code for what he wanted.

"Gladly. Strike a pose, would you?" You grin, raising your phone.

“Maybe when I’m not covered in sweat.” Sam counter offers and you accept with a thumbs up.

“You going to the parade, Sam?” You toy with the can in your hands.

“I’ll be working security, so probably.”

“Sarge?” You take a swig of your drink.

“Huh?” He snaps back into the conversation, putting a stop to the mental list of reasons he was making of why you could be here at the same time as him. He knew your schedule, it wouldn’t be very hard for you to figure out his.

“You coming to the parade on Sunday?” you ask again.

“I guess.”

You wince.

“What?” he asks instantly, curiosity making him a lot sloppier than usual.

“It’s just- you wear so much black.” You gesture to his current getup to prove your point. ”I feel like all the bright colours would vaporise you if you looked at them.”

He doesn’t look amused.

“You know, like Prince Philip.”

“I think I’ll be fine.” He gives you a sarcastic smile.

“You comin’ Buck?” Sam laughs, unwrapping the bar he bought from the machine.

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Bucky says offhandedly, still glaring at you innocently drinking your soda.

Sam chews absentmindedly on his protein bar as he walks out, amused at the situation Bucky pulled himself into.

“What’d you do?” Bucky asks, studying your body language.

“I bought a soda.” You lift the can to prove your point. “And now I’m drinking it.”

“Why are you waiting for me?”

“I thought I’d return the favour,” you point out. “I’m supervising you.”

“Don’t.” He walks to the vending machine, pulling out his wallet for some loose change. There was a Snickers bar he had been craving since morning that he bought every alternate day. Small joys.

“Why? I have the time.” You take a sip, setting it down with a clang.

“You’re only here for this week.” Bucky counted the coins he had. He’d use a dollar but he was trying to get rid of the jingling in his pocket that made him sound like a fucking clown when he walked.

“Actually,” you begin innocuously, “Tony offered me a full-time position.”

Bucky’s movements stop, hunched over the money in his palm.

“What?”

“Yeah.” You nod seriously. “A full nine-to-five as a researcher here.”

“And you’re taking it.” He shakes himself out of the minor shock to assess the damage.

“I don’t know. I got a lot of things to consider.” The chair scrapes against the tiled floor as you stand up. “But maybe you should get used to seeing me a lot more around here.”

He punches in the code for his Snickers. The row whirs forward slowly.

“See you at the lab.” He hears you discard the empty can in the trash before exiting.

He waits patiently for his bar to drop while his mind internally screams about the consequences of having you work here. You wouldn’t be evil anymore. Unless you were here to steal secrets from the Tower. On the pro side, his weekend would be free again. On the con side, his weekend would be free again.

His bar stops right at the edge of the row. He waits for it to fall over. It doesn’t.

He shakes the machine, suppressing the primal urge to beat the shit out of it when the damn bar refuses to fall.

He punches in a few random buttons hoping that at least it would give his money back.

The little monitor instead flashes a new message across the screen.

‘Have a good day, sarge <3’

Motherfucker.

Captain America looks less daunting up close, you realise. But he is still a very large man with very large shoulders. You know at least four people who would like to scale him like a tree, not that you’d ever tell him.

“Hey, Y/N.” He sends you a small smile when you walk into the room for a mid-week update. A clipboard in your hand, report attached and a few stationery items in case some points needed to be noted done, you look professional and ready.

“Afternoon, Captain.” Tony saves a seat for you and Bruce beside him since you’re on the same project. You almost miss the fact that Bucky isn’t in the room.

He walks in a few minutes late; tall, dark and brooding, immediately bringing the excitement in the room down by 40% by just existing. 

Bucky surveys the room before catching your eye. He picks up his chair with ease and drags it over to where you are, sitting right beside you, ignoring the small cry of protest from an agent whose view he now obstructed. Everyone else just silently shifted over.

“Clingy much?” you whisper at him, eyes still trained on Steve who had waited till everyone was seated to continue.

“I’m supposed t’be keeping an eye on you,” he rebuffs in a hush.

“Well, you’re late. What if I went rogue, huh?”

“Therapy ran overtime,” he mumbles.

“Oh.” You blink. “How was it?”

“Same old.”

“You good?”

He refrains from answering when Steve starts addressing the room but yes, he was fine. He sends you a nod to confirm. 

“This is just a usual checking in. We’ve received all your reports, but just to keep everyone on the same page-”

Bucky logs out mentally. He knows what his job is, he’ll probably lead a division of the security team or join the mission to neutralise the threat in case they find it first. Either way, he’ll figure it out without having to listen to an intern nervously stammer their way through their team’s report. 

On the other hand, you’re not listening either. You were until you saw Bucky’s eyes glaze over while glowering at the window, assuming that he had stopped paying attention when his gaze doesn’t shift.

You should be listening. You’re new here and you should know what’s going on because any bits of detail are crucial to the working of your system. 

Instead, you rip out a sticky note and discreetly place it on the back of Bucky’s metal arm. He doesn’t notice.

You bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling. More post-its from your pile of stationery make their way onto the vibranium, shades of pink, purple, green and yellow decorating his arm like a bulletin board. 

You’re about to contemplate sticking one on his shoulder blade when he whips around to look at you. You freeze, hand in the air with a sticky note. He looks down at his arm, a scoff escaping him in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” He twists his arm to check the extent of how far you’ve gone. “What are you, six?”

“How’d it take you so long to notice?” You watch as he tugs them off one by one, counting to see how many you had managed to get on there.

“It’s impossible not to zone out in these shitty meetings,” he mumbles, pulling off the last one, crumpling all of them into a ball to throw at you. You skilfully avoid them. 

“Don’t you feel pressure or heat or anything here?” You poke at his metal arm.

“No.” He clenches and releases the fist. “It can block bullets though.”

You snort. “Bet that’s a popular line in bed.”

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, it helps that I can’t feel anything. Sometimes,” he adds the last part as an afterthought. 

“Like when you’re blocking bullets.”

“Especially then.” He nods. 

“Would you ever want to?” you ask casually. “Like if you got the choice, would you prefer having feeling in that arm?”

“I don’t know.” He’s thought about it, but it doesn’t seem feasible in his line of work. He’d like it, though, to feel sand slipping through his fingers and the comforter under his palm. “Maybe when I’m retired.”

“Aren’t you well past that age?”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes. “And pay attention. You’re next.”

“So you are listening.” True to his word, Steve asks about what’s going on with your team. “Traitor.” 

Tony shoots off about how you only had to test it out on a small batch first to see if you could acquire the targeted data without compromising anything else. You chime in about a few specifics, and Bruce more or less just confirms what you both are saying, only stopping to let them know that you’d be finished in a day or two.

Steve nods, moving on to the next committee.

“Did I get a good grade?” you whisper when you lean back again.

“B minus at best.” 

“Fuck you, dude. I was great,” you protested. “It’s definitely worth a gold sticker.”

Someone shushes you sharply. You apologise quietly, whacking Bucky’s metal arm when you see a dumb smirk on his face. 

He narrows his eyes at you. 

You try sticking another post-it on him.

You’re only here for a week. That’s what he’s been told. Over six times, actually, after which he’s been told to go away the next time he asked.

No one’s brought up the job offer so he asks Tony if it was true and all he gets is a dismissive ‘yeah, whatever’. Besides, you haven’t told him if you accepted or denied it yet so isn’t sure if this entire thing is set in stone, per se.

So then why do you have a giant box of your belongings that you’re lugging around the lab, looking to set down?

And why does Tony allow you a table right in the centre of the lab for everyone to see as soon as they walk in?

There are a gazillion trinkets, picture frames and obnoxiously bright stationery that stands out against the dull minimalism of the lab.

“Every single one of these is a fire hazard,” he reports, standing over your desk.

You give him a side glance before reaching over to the side of your desk, pulling up a fire extinguisher and setting it on the table in front of him. “I came prepared, bitch boy.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response. He chooses to look at what exactly you’ve brought with you because it’s a lot.

There are small cards with ‘thank you!’ sprawled on them in uneven lettering, bits and pieces of paper with small cartoons on them, little clay models and other miniature trophies with ‘you’re the best!’ under it.

“Your students gave you these?” He can’t remember the last time he gave his teacher anything other than a headache.

“Sometimes they learn or communicate better when they have something to keep their hands busy.” There’s a certain fondness in your voice that he isn’t used to hearing. “I end up with a lot of doodles and craft.”

“’s nice of them.” He can tell that this means a lot to you. He hasn’t seen it before.

He thinks the little decorations are adorable and maybe he’d keep another fire extinguisher on hand, just in case. 

Until you start pulling out a set of framed photos and his smile drops.

Several collages of Bucky in flower crowns, him with terribly edited backgrounds of beaches and mountains, a photo of him laughing with ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ next to it in an italicised font.

“What the fuck,” he states, grabbing one of them.

You stifle a laugh, pulling out several more to place along your table.

“Where did you fucking get these?” He starts pulling them off the table one by one.

“I don’t think you know how much the internet is obsessed with you.” You set an especially large one of him in a Hello Kitty bowtie right in the centre. He doesn’t miss the star shaped frame you chose for this.

“What is wrong with you?” He swipes that up immediately, looking for a place to discard, possibly burn these pictures. “Why do you even have these?”

“It’s imperative that people know we’re friends.” You bite your lip, bringing out the last thing to annoy him.

“What is that?” A teddy bear with a blue jacket and a grey felt arm stared into his soul.

“A Bucky bear.” Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh. “Limited edition.”

He snatches it along with the fifteen other picture frames, thinly veiled distress and mostly disgust on his face.

“I hate you.”

“But I love you.” You lift the small heart shaped locket you hung on one of the pictures of your class.

You use both your hands to click it open for him, watching his face morph into one of disbelief.

Bucky my beloved, it read on the right with a small picture of him on the left looking intensely disgruntled. He doesn’t bother asking where you found that specific picture of him outside a Burger King at 3am.

He doesn’t even make an effort to take it away this time. He knows that you’ll simply bring up more and more until you drove him crazy.

“You still have to see the Avengers calendar.” You reach for the inside. “I changed all the pictures to you, it looks great-”

He turns around and leaves before you get a chance to flip open the pages.

He wanders around, looking for the best disposal area he can find. He knows there’s a giant fireplace in the common room in the Tower, and for that, he’d have to go up a couple of floors.

He steps into the elevator, chin pressing down on the several picture frames in his hands to prevent them from falling over.

No one sees him carrying a couple of fan edited pictures and merchandise of him. Which was good.

Unfortunately, the doors ding open on the next floor and his best friend steps on with possibly the worst timing ever.

“Buck?” Steve sounds confused. He should be, considering the sight.

Bucky shimmies slightly to get a better grip on his belongings. “Steven.”

Steve glances at what he’s holding.

“Is this,” Steve pauses, trying to frame his words correctly to sound as supportive as possible, “a therapy thing?”

“No.”

Steve waits for a further explanation.

“It’s Y/N’s,” he elucidates. Steve’s eyebrows furrow.

“Why are there so many pictures of you?” He looks at the content in his hands a little closer. “And a bear.”

“She’s evil. And I hate her.”

“Alright.” It doesn’t answer his question but his friend looks irked enough.

The elevator dings to the common room floor.

Bucky turns on his heel to head toward the place to set all the pictures on fire. He saves the picture frames to give back to you though, he’s sure those cost money. But he makes sure every last square inch of the picture with several hearts around his portrait burns to ash.

Bucky knows that by the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, the three of you would have been working for thirty hours straight, scrambling to get the last minute details done.

You’re still at it but he can tell through the adrenaline of the upcoming deadline that you’re exhausted. 

Now he’s grouchy but he’s not an asshole. He’s already done two coffee runs for the team and brought you food when you didn’t show up for lunch. He mumbles something and dismisses it when you call out a ‘thank you’ his way. He considers it a debt repaid for the gyros.

He’s still keeping an eye on you but along with an emergency box of doughnuts for any sugar rushes that may be needed and bottles of water that he occasionally leaves at the corner of the table for you three to subconsciously keep yourself hydrated. 

“Are you sure we checked it?”

“Yes.” Bruce nods.

“Double checked it?”

“Yes.”

“Triple checked it.”

“Yes.” 

You look satisfied enough to move on to the next item. “Pass me the welding torch for a second.”

Bucky has a book in front of him that he hasn’t moved beyond the second page of. He’s more interested in seeing who collapses from burnout first. He has the infirmary on speed dial. 

After another hour or so Tony holds up a silver tablet, roughly the same size as a smartphone, examining it from all sides.

“That’s it,” he states. “The final product.”

You exhale lightly.

“We should name it.” You have your hands on your hips, looking down at it in wonder. Maybe the zero hours of sleep was finally kicking in because you couldn’t believe you were finally done. 

“You got any suggestions?” Tony asks. 

To be frank, no, you didn’t.

“No.”

“Okay, we’ll do that later.” Tony sets it down, not sounding too disappointed. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, tell the team to get down here, please.”

“Yes, boss.”

Bucky jumps off his chair to join you in the lab, leaving the book behind. 

It only takes a few moments for the others to join. Fury and Steve walk in together, already engaged in conversation.

“Greetings.” You clap your hands together. “We did it. We think.”

“We think?” Nick raises an eyebrow.

“We know,” Bruce clarifies quickly, stepping in. “We’re positive it works. We tested it out.”

Tony pulls up the holograph of F.R.I.D.AY’s system, sliding the tablet to the middle of the table.

“Is it secured under FRIDAY’s core?”

“Locked and loaded.” Tony hits the table lightly to signify that it was safe.

“I think we’re ready,” Bruce confirms.

“We better be, or else half the country is suddenly going to lose their internet connection,” you say under your breath.

“What?” Bucky’s eyebrows knit together.

“Nothing,” you beamed, “Okay F.R.I.D.A.Y., run sequence, global parameter.”

“Running sequence,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. parrots. 

There was no going back now. 

From what Bucky can see, Tony looks fairly confident but you have your bottom lip caged between your teeth, chewing on it nervously. 

There are several hundreds of photographs popping up and disappearing within a minute. Everything looks like it’s going according to plan.

The giant holograph of the AI dims. Your face drops when F.R.I.D.A.Y. seems to sputter to a halt. 

No one breathes.

In the midst of the tension, Clint mutters if they should play some background music. It’s followed by a swift ‘ow’ when Natasha flicks him in the shoulder.

You could hear a pin drop.

It suddenly picks back up again, running faster than the last time and the sigh everyone collectively heaves is almost comical.

It runs for a few seconds more before a list of names suddenly pop up accompanied by a series of photographs and geo locations.

“Sequence complete. Six names detected, zero encroachment on public or private databases,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. broadcasted. “Location determined to be Holland. Exact coordinates are computed into the quinjet.”

You let out a small cheer, looping your arm around Bruce, squeezing him in a half hug. He has a smile on his face, dropping his head as he laughs slightly. 

“How dangerous are they?” Tony, however, continues to ask.

“A few prior convictions and a series of similar threats. Danger level determined to be at approximately five out of ten.” 

“That’s not bad,” Steve commented. “Looks like we don’t need the full team there.”

“Romanoff, Barton, Wilson, Rogers can go ahead and take care of that,” Nick finally spoke up. “Everyone else is working security tomorrow, just in case anyone else decides that terrorism is on their fuckin’ to-do list for the day.”

“Buck, assemble a team and go over strategy for tomorrow,” Steve adds on. “Everyone else go suit up, wheels up in thirty minutes.” 

“Fuckin’ Holland,” Sam scoffs, shaking his head. “Of all the places.” 

“What do you have against Holland?” Nat asks as they leave together.

“Just don’t like ‘em.” Their voices grow faint the further they get.

“Hey.” A small greeting from behind you has you turning around.

Wanda stands in front of you and you have to ignore the fact that the most powerful being on Earth is talking to you. 

“Hey,” you say back.

“I just wanted to say congratulations. You did a great job.” Bits and pieces of her accent poked out. She didn’t seem like she was putting in the effort to cover it up as opposed to the press interviews you had heard a few years ago. 

“Thank you.” You smile. “T’was a team effort.”

“Well, we owe you one anyway,” Steve joins the conversation, leaving aside Tony who was still talking to Bruce.

“I wish I was humble enough to turn it down but I’m not.” You laugh. “It’s nice to have an arsenal of superheroes at my disposal.”

Steve looks like he’s going to respond but his attention is drawn towards F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s announcement that the quinjet was ready to go. He shoots you an apologetic look but you sign for him to go on, you’d meet with him later.

You watch as he claps Tony on the back, telling him to go get some sleep and something with more nutritional value than a pizza pocket in him, nodding at Bruce before taking leave. 

“Y/L/N,” Nick stands beside you, looking ahead at the conversations being had as Steve tugs Clint along with him.

“Nicky,” you tease.

“I know at least seven underground prisons I can put you in if anyone hears you calling me that,” he says stoically. 

“We all know you won’t get rid of me.” You shake your head. “Who’s gonna send you a Christmas card then, huh?”

He simply shakes his head, jutting his hand out and offering a handshake. “Not sure anyone here could handle another day of a highly caffeinated, sleep-deprived Stark.”

“Just say ‘thanks’, Nick, geez.” You roll your eyes. 

Bucky watches the entire interaction unfurl; only the body language, not employing the lip-reading ability. 

“You’re welcome.” You let go of his hand, a devilish look on your face. “You know what I want in return.”

Nick gives you a long, hard stare that could probably melt through Steve’s shield before turning around to leave. 

But Bucky doesn’t miss the subtle high-five he gives you while walking out, unbeknownst to anyone else, bringing the biggest grin to your face.

He makes it a point to ask you what the fuck kind of leverage you have over the man for him to play favourites with you. 

You finally collapse at your desk, letting out a loud exhale. You clench your eyes shut, your body finally melting into your chair. You look exhausted.

He’s not sure how to help. You don’t seem like you have the energy to tell him.

Bucky leaves a doughnut and water bottle on the table in front of you before shuffling out of the room quietly. 

He’s certain that he’s spent far too long in Bruce’s lab this week. He liked the man as much as the next guy, but he probably wouldn’t come down there for the foreseeable future. 

You’re at your assigned desk, reading light illuminating the space. Thankfully you’ve cleared up most of your stuff from the table, leaving no more liabilities to fall over in case he walked into the desk. 

“So you’re done for the week.” His voice surprises you. You were scrolling through your phone, slightly hunched over.

“It appears so.” You put your phone down, swivelling the chair to look at him. 

“How’d it go?” He leans against your table, making sure he isn’t using his full weight.

“Well, I slept for fifteen hours straight, so...” you leave him to connect the dots. He’s done the same several times.

“You’re probably gonna need more,” he says, mostly from his own experience, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Actually-” you reach beside your table and lug your gigantic box of belongings onto the table with a loud thud, “-you won’t.”

He looks at the box that was nearly overflowing with its contents, the majority of the space being taken up by empty picture frames. “I thought you said Tony offered you a job.” 

“He did,” you confirm. “I didn’t accept.”

“Why?” He watches you shift through a few things, adjusting it so that it wouldn’t fall over.

“This whole thing- it’s cool and all, but it’s not what I want to do.” You shrug. “I like teaching. I miss my class.”

He gaze lands on one of the thank you notes sticking out from the corner of the box. “Ah.”

“Back to school from tomorrow.”

“And evil on the weekends?” he prods, dropping a pen into the heap of stationery. 

“Obviously.” You give him a lopsided smile. “Where else am I gonna use all this brilliance?”

You point to your head. He lets out a small exhale in the form of a laugh.

“Speaking of-” You look like you just remembered something.  

You rummage through your backpack and pull out a small container, handing it to him.

“What’s this?” He turns it over, looking for any hidden clues. “Are you proposing again, because I’ve said no-”

“I’m not proposing,” you interrupt, “yet.”

He gives you a deadpan look.

“Open it,” you urge, and he complies.

Two small squares sit side-by-side. They’re slick black, barely bigger than the face of a dice.

“You put one of them here-” You tap on his bicep “-and the other here.” You tap his shoulder, a few inches below his clavicle.

“What does it do?” He thinks it’s like Nat’s little taser things, a nifty little tool that he could use on missions.

“It, uh-” you hesitate “-it allows you to feel sensation in your metal arm. Heat, pressure, texture.”

His breath hitches in his throat. He doesn’t mean for it to happen, it just does.

“You said that sometimes you’re glad you couldn’t because of the bullets and stuff. They’re detachable, so just take them off when you go on missions and wherever it is you Spandex ambassadors go.” You scoff slightly. 

He can’t remember the last time he felt something soft with that arm or used it for something that wasn’t directly related to his job.  

“I’m not messing with what the Wakandans gave you. It’s the most advanced piece of tech out there.” You shrug. “But if you ever want to feel it when someone attaches sticky notes to your arm, this could work. Just thought it’d be nice to have an option.”

He can’t decipher what he’s feeling right now. He looks up at you, only to catch you eyeing him cautiously, assessing his reaction. When you notice he’s looking at you, a nervous smile makes its way onto your face. 

His stomach does a flip. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly. 

“Don’t mention it.” You sound a little relieved, picking up the box that he’s pretty sure weighed a ton what with all his memorabilia in it. “See you next week.”

He doesn’t know how to explain what it means to him. 

Instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing later?”

“Nothing.” You pause. “Why?”

“Are you gonna watch the parade?” 

“Yeah, probably.” You shift your weight to your other leg to compensate for the box.

“Want some company?”

“Aren’t you heading a security division?” You have to consciously hide the bewilderment from your voice. 

“Yeah. The place I’m stationed just so happens to have a good look into the street,” he explains, toying with the bracelet on his wrist. “Can’t really promise that I’ll be paying attention to it or that I’d even be there the whole time but for the most part...” he trails off. 

“Uh-” You force yourself to shove aside your surprise at his determination, “yeah, sure. That’d be cool.”

He nods. “Okay. See you there.” 

“See you,” you murmur as you walk to the elevator. 

He opens the tiny container to look at the small chips. They’re still there, silently like they don’t change his world just by existing. 

Gosh.

Next part

[staticscreenwriting]

I don’t love you // Chapter 1

Chapter One - Bluebird 

Synopsis: Jess is over Rory, only he’s not. Olivia is tired of trying to find the one piece missing from her life, only she’s not. A wedding, a bus ride, a lost notebook and an unforseen offer bring these two together and spark the idea that maybe the best people do enter your life in the most unexpected ways. A/N: I’ve uploaded parts of this story before on a blog specifically dedicated to it but I want most of my writing in one place so here’s a reupload. This is NOT a literati fic! 

" There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him,I say, stay in there,

I'm not going to let anybody see you. "

- Bluebird (Charles Bukowski)

There was an ice cold beer clutched in his hand, half empty already, and a lady to his right that had been trying to engage in a conversation about the weather for the last 15 minutes. None of that really mattered, none of that he really acknowledged.

There was only her. Her dancing and laughing and singing along to the cheesy pop songs he knew she'd never admit to liking but secretly sang along to at home when she thought no one was watching. Her and the way her hair that had been perfectly pinned back earlier was now slowly coming undone, strands framing her perfect face that had changed so much and yet so little in all this time.

Her and her all consuming, breathtaking, heart shattering beauty. Her and all the memories of all the feelings that had ever been there and would always be there.

God, he was so screwed.

This was the "I love you" all over again, the Yale visit, the open house. He had honestly thought he had left this part of his past behind. That he was over her. He had tried over and over and it never ended with a happily ever after for him, not with her. Maybe they just weren't meant to be.

He had really thought he'd learned his lesson and yet here he was staring at her and wondering if he'd ever completely get over her or if he might be doomed to forever be in love with Rory Gilmore.

" You know if you keep staring at her any longer it's gonna change from kinda cute to downright creepy, right ?! " he heard his younger cousin's voice speak up as she plopped down in the seat to his right, the weather lady had apparently gotten the hint that he was not interested in a conversation with her and had wandered off at some point.

" What do you know ? Aren't you busy being edgy, smoking, finding yourself ? " he replied and gave April little smirk and a friendly shove with his shoulder. She was a peculiar one his cousin, had been since the first time he'd met her but she'd done a lot of growing up over the years and had turned from a strange kid into quite the smart and witty adult, pseudo hippy phase and all.

" Haha, aren't you funny, Jess. Seriously though, what's up with the longing looks ? "

" Ah you know, just figuring out that I'm still in love with the girl I dated when I was in high school. The girl that made me change into the person I am today. The girl that is the sole reason I became a better person. " Is what he thought but there was no way in hell Jess would ever talk about his feelings. Ever. " Don't know what you're talking about. "

" Sure you don't. Just sayin' you could go over there and actually talk to her instead of glaring a hole through her head."

That he could do, but what would he say ?

"Hey Rory, sorry to interrupt but I just realized that part of me is still madly in love with you. " ?

" Oh hi there Rory, been watching you all night wondering if we ever stood a chance, wondering if we still might stand one. Wondering if this could ever be us, getting married and all that. " ?

Those were the things that were ghosting through his head but he'd be damned if he ever told those to anyone, especially Rory. He'd tried that before, multiple times, and look how that turned out. To be fair one of those times he ran off, but that was only that one time.

No, there really wasn't anything he could tell her that would change anything about this situation. She had enough on her plate as it was, she was writing a book for god's sake and if anyone knew how stressful and chaotic that time is, it was Jess. The last thing she'd need was him bringing up old feelings and confusion.

" There's nothing to talk about. "

" Okay, James Dean. I know that whole repressing your emotions deal runs in the family and works well with the grumpy mysterious guy image you're trying to maintain but that needs to stop. You're clearly still into this girl and I'm not gonna sit here and watch you throw away what might be your last shot at your epic love story. "

" Oh Jesus when did you start getting so corny. Does Lorelei make you watch 80s romcoms when you're over at their place ? Does Luke know she's doing this to you ? "

" Jess, I'm serious. Sometimes you gotta fight for the things you want. "

For the first time in a while Jess left his gaze drift from Rory and turned towards his cousin.

" I'm 33 years old, April. I'm done fighting over girls, fighting for girls. Things either work out or they don't and they obviously didn't for me and her. "

" But what if you're her Luke ? "

" What if I'm not ? What if I don't want to be ? I don't want her to settle for me after years and years of trying. I want to be a conscious decision. For once in my life I want someone to chose me. Not because of a feeling of guilt or nostalgia or comfort or because they feel like they owe me or because they feel responsible. I'm done with this. I can't do it all over again. "

A silence settled upon them as neither of them really knew where those words had suddenly come from. If there was one thing you didn't except from Jess Mariano it was as sudden outburst of honest emotions.

" Okay. "

" Okay ? "

" Okay, I get it. I didn't mean to push you to do something you don't want to do. I just wanted to help. I want you to be happy. "

" I am happy. "

" Are you ? "

Was he ? Yeah. Sure. Truncheon was going well, he liked his job, liked his coworkers, his friends. He had his own little apartment & his own car. He was in the process of coming up with ideas for a second book. He wasn't particularly phased by the fact that he'd been single for a while now either. Whenever he felt like it Jess had no problem sweet talking a girl at a bar. Girls, he had found out a while ago, were totally into the broody writer persona.

Was he truly happy though ? He didn't know.

" Yeah. "

" Okay. "

" Look, April. You know I'm not big on the whole family reunion stuff, especially here in Stars Hollow where half the population still holds a grudge against me. I came for Luke but he and Lorelei ran off a while ago so there's really no harm in me leaving too, right ? "

It was the truth, Jess wasn't particularly thrilled about returning to the Connecticut town he'd spend some time in as a teenager, but there was no way in hell he could've said no to Luke. The man had done more for him than anyone in his entire life, his mom included. He'd been one of the few who'd believed in him when even Jess himself had almost lost hope that he'd ever amount to something. He owed Luke so much and showing up to his wedding was the least he could do.

" You've been drinking. "

" Last bus is leaving in 20 minutes. "

" To Philly ? That's a long ass drive, Jess. Are you sure you don't wanna crash at the apartment above Luke's and leave tomorrow ? "

" I got a book with me, it'll be fine. No offense April, but if I don't leave now I'm just getting sucked back into things that I should've left behind a long time ago."

" What about your car ? "

" I was thinking, maybe my favorite cousin would like to come visit me in Philadelphia before she goes back home, and maybe she could bring my car with her? " April stared at him for a moment and Jess could see the gears turning in her head, trying to come up with an idea to get him to stay. His mind was made up though, if he'd stay he'd have to get drunk and if there was one place Jess Mariano didn't want be drunk at, it was the town center of Stars Hollow with his ex girlfriend in close proximity.

" Alright " April said and let out a defeated sigh " Be careful and don't talk to any sleazy looking guys. "

" Yeah okay, mom. " Jess replied and took a last sip on his now empty bottle of beer.

As he got up off the chair, Jess' glance wandered back over to Rory. He could go after her, fight for her, show her the man he was today and how this was all for her. He could. But he didn't. Because he was scared ? Maybe. But also because he was just tired. Tired of running after the same girl over and over again. Always failing.

" Just so you know, I don't think you're doing the right thing. Just running from your emotions. " April spoke up. " Well cousin, I don't think you're doing the right thing getting your nose pierced and acting like a pothead when they could probably sell you oregano without you noticing. Yet here I am, accepting your decisions. "

" You're an ass. " April responded as a small smirk tugged at the corners of her lips.

" That's family. Thought you'd be used to that by now. Seriously though, don't worry about me kid. "

" That's family, Jess. We always worry. Thought you'd be used to that by now " She replied with a smile before walking away, back into the sea of Stars Hollow residents that were singing and dancing to some obscure 90s popsong.

This family, his family, was quite honestly a mess. It was a family though, something he hadn't had for the longest time. And no matter how strange or broken over overly intrusive or annoying they were, they meant the world to him. Because they were his people and to them, to Luke and April he was a conscious decision. It was their decision to care and to worry and Sometimes you gotta admit defeat.

With one last look towards Rory, the girl that changed it all, Jess turned his back towards the gazebo covered in dozens of fairy lights and the quirky town that surrounded it and took on the walk towards the bus stop. Maybe April was right and he was just running from his emotions and his crippling fear of rejection. But so what ? Sometimes you gotta let yourself be scared to save yourself from pain.

Sometimes you gotta run.

[ellana-ravenwood]

They’re kind of assholes - Superboy x Reader (Batsis)

This is kind of a part two of “You’re kind of an asshole”, the aftermath of it all. Like now, Conner and the reader (Batman’s daughter) professed their love for each other, and it’s not to everyone’s taste. Not to name anyone but...Bruce and Clark are not ok with this. Anyway, hope you’ll like it : 

PART 1, PART 3 

y master list blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives 

________________________________________________

Batman was not happy. Not happy at all.

Superman either actually. 

They were both sitting at a table in the Watchtower’s common room, sulking and brooding (when Diana asked what was happening to Clark, as she was used to Broody Bruce, he just groaned in return and she kinda just understood that this was about you and the boy). With a scoff and a sip of his coffee, your father says : 

-This isn’t going to work.

-I know, it’s too weird. 

-I caught him in her room a few nights ago, God only know what would have happened if I didn’t came in when I did. 

-Oh please, no details. We’re talking about your daughter, whom I consider my dear niece, and my...clone. It’s just too weird ! 

-Yeah well you would be even more weirded out if you had caught them making out on her desk ! 

-Bruce, stop. Seriously. This is making me uncomfortable. 

-And you think I’m comfortable with this ? Because if you do you’re wrong. I hate it. It’s my little girl we’re talking about ! 

Diana, who was coming back from the coffee machine with a warm cup, cannot help herself and has to say : 

-You are aware that you’re daughter is an adult right ? And that when Dick started to date Barbara you didn’t say anything, even though she’s older than him. Or when Jason or Tim st...

-I know she’s an adult ! That’s the problem ! She’s growing up too fast ! And it’s not the same than with the boys...

Diana loses her amused grin, and with a very serious expression, stare at the Bat and says :

-Oh ? And how is it different ? Because she’s a girl you have to protect her more ? Or she can’t go out because of her sex ? By Hades Bruce I thought you were more open minded than that ! 

Your father just looks away and grumbles an answer no one understands. 

He knows it’s ridiculous. He knows he shouldn’t be worried, as he knows that Conner is a good man. He knows you’re an adult and are capable of taking your own decisions but...you’re also his little girl. And he doesn’t actually have a good excuse as to why he wants to protect you more dating wise than his sons...Even though Dick is the one that always end up falling in love way too fast and having his heart broke ! 

In front of him, Clark doesn’t hold Diana’s gaze either (neither him or Bruce would dare to, and besides, when she was annoyed like that, it was better to just look away and shut up), but he has the same thoughts than his friend. He wants to protect you, and for some reasons, deep down, he just can’t find the strength to trust Conner, even though the boy proved himself worthy multiple times...

************

It shouldn’t have been, but formally introducing your boyfriend to your brothers was one of the most difficult thing you ever had to do. 

They were all here when you two kiss for the first time, but used to your short lived relationship, they weren’t expecting things to get serious. So when, almost six months after yours and Conner’s first kiss, you take him to Wayne’s Manor, they’re all a bit...Taken aback. 

Dick was your only ally. He’s the only that took it well when you said you were dating Conner...seriously. That you were actually in love, and not juste slightly infatuated as usual. Granted, he was the one who played the matchmaker and tried, for almost a year, to push you guys in each others’ arms (as he noticed you both had a massive crush for the other, that quickly turned into love). But you surely didn’t expect your oldest brother to be the only one happy for you. 

Jason eyed Conner up and down, and glared at him for a good ten minutes. He didn’t say anything, trying really hard to respect your choice...but you thanked God or whoever was up there for making Conner so oblivious sometimes, because the murderous look your brother was giving him was just awful. 

Tim took Conner on a side and you saw him making overdramatic gestures and such. You didn’t hear anything of what they said but...When they came back you gave your boyfriend a questioning look and he said :

-Your brother told me I was a terrible best friend because I am dating his sister and friends aren’t suppose to do that and...

-Oh my god Conner this was a private conversation ! Supposed to stay secret between you and I ! 

-Tim, I don’t have any secrets for your sister. 

After those words, against his own will, Tim had to kinda admit maybe you weren’t dating the worst man ever...Besides, it was his best friend after all, he knew he was a good guy but...You were his little sister ! His beloved and dear little sister ! He used to read stories to you when you were tiny and now you were dating his best friend and...Oh, where did the years go ? 

Damian was the one who took it really badly. He almost jumped on Conner, but Dick caught him at the last moment (because he was gonna break himself on Superboy’s chest..for real). The mere thought of that...dude touching you, kissing you like he did months ago (when they all still thought it was yet another one of your fling). He yelled at Conner for half an hour, and when you calmly told him to “back off”, he...strangely did. Your little brother admired you more than anyone else, and always seemed to listen to everything you said. And when you told him to calm down in that voice you used only when you were dead serious, he understood that he shouldn’t push his luck. 

It still didn’t stop him though, from threatening Conner every chance he got (which means, whenever you weren’t around). 

Yup. Dick was the only one in your family that was supportive of your relationship...The worst one of them all was your father. 

He would always look coldly at your boyfriend, though before he always been nice to him, and give you daily sermon about sex. It was super awkward. And when he found you and Conner making out in your bedroom, the way he threw your man out of the window was scary as Hell...But like father like daughter, you were extremely stubborn, and no matter what your family thought, you were going to still date Conner. You were in love with him for God’s sake ! 

Still, it kinda hurt that none of your family members (except Dick of course) supported you, and was happy for you...Not even your mother, the famous Catwoman, who was known to never play by the rules ! 

************

When you told her, she made a face and, with a sigh, said : 

-Oh what did I tell you about dating men with issues ? 

-...To not do it. 

-And yet, you’re dating the man who got the most issues ever. Damn he’s more troubled than your father, that says a lot ! 

-Yeah well mom, when did I ever listen to you ? Besides, you know me, if someone tells me not to do something...

-You will most likely do it yes...I didn’t think things through. I should have told you to not date nice guys cause they’re boring, and then you’d be with one. 

You smile at your mother and shake your head before saying : 

-He is a nice guy mom. 

-You know what I mean. 

-Yeah well, you’re not really in a good position to give me advice about that specific thing. Besides, his issues are...manageable. 

-I’m might not be a good example, but that’s exactly why I’m telling you this. So that you don’t make the same mistakes I did ! 

-Oh, so I’m a mistake I guess then ? 

-What ? No ! No of course not ! You’re the best thing that happened in my life ! And I...-sigh- listen, I might not be the best mother out there, and I know I’m not always present but...I just want you to be happy. 

-Yeah ok, and what if I’m happy with Conner ?! Why don’t you guys just leave it be for fox sake ! Like it’s not like I’m a criminal or something, I’m just dating a guy ! 

-A guy that could crush you in a moment of stress. A guys that doesn’t always control his own powers and could hurt you really bad, not on purpose of course, but he...

-He would never hurt me ok ! And he controls his emotions way more than you guys think. He changed a lot and he’s making a lot of efforts ! 

-Maybe, but the fact is...

-The fact is that I do whatever I want to do ! I’m an adult and you can’t tell me what to do. 

You stand up from the edge of the roof where you were sitting with your mother, and leave without a word, not even looking back or saying “goodbye”. 

Your mom sighs, and hope that you won't do the same mistakes she did...Not particularly the “dating a man with issues” part, but the “getting your heart broken by him, or breaking his heart on a regular basis, just because you guys are too damn stubborn” part...

************

You’re frustrated when you arrive at the Young Justice’s headquarters through a zeta tube, and, annoyed more than ever, you start walking around the mountain, pacing back and forth in the corridors, but soon, your walk isn’t sufficient anymore and you go to the gym to hit a sandbag out of frustration. 

M’gann finds you as you’re taking your anger on a punching ball, every hit you make making the entire thing tremble. You turn around at her entrance, and punch a few times more. 

After a few minutes, the martian finally gather the courage to ask you what is going on (as everyone, she knows that when you’re mad, she just shouldn’t talk to you, but she gotta know) : 

-Is something wrong (Y/N) ? 

You turn around, and whip your leg up in the air, hitting the sandbag with force with your foot as you’re now facing Miss Martian. 

-What ? Oh no. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s just swell. 

As you say your last word, you turn around once more to give a mean right hook to the dummy, and with a high kick turn toward M’gann again. 

-What makes you think something’s wrong ?

The martian knows she’s walking on eggs there, and taking a small step toward you, she says : 

-It’s just that you seem...On edge. 

-On edge ? Really ? I think it’s in your head M’gann. 

You respond as you whip around again to headbutt your training dummy with all your might, and then give it a series of fast yet powerful punches. 

-...Your anger toward this poor gym artifacts. 

“Gym artifacts”, only her could speak like that. Not wanting to talk about it, you keep punching and kicking, ignoring her. 

She approaches you and says : 

-Is it...a problem with Conner ? 

And the wishfulness in her voice, the hope, makes you completely crack : 

-OH MY GOD I HAVE NO PROBLEM WITH CONNER ALRIGHT ?! My only problems is you, and everyone else, that keep questioning our relationships and that keeps...keeps;..bothering me about my choices and what I can and cannot do ! And I’m sorry you’re still in love with him but he’s...

You stop your sentence, realizing that now, you’re just being mean...and it’s enough to lift all the anger off of your shoulders. To erase everything. 

-I’m...I’m sorry M’gann. 

-Don’t be. I understand. I really do. If...if it can reassure you, I see how he looks at you and...he never looked at me like that. All those little attentions he has for you, he didn’t have for me. When we were dating, he never told me he loved me and he never...kiss me like he kisses you. I’m sorry if I sound like I’m stalking you guys but, someone I look at the two of you and all I see is love, admiration, awe and a deep connection that goes beyond simple love and friendship. You guys are soulmates. I just...know it. And when people are that made for each others, then it shouldn’t matter what others think...

You smile weakly, and hug her. Simply hug her. You don’t say anything else, and you don’t try to comfort her, you know you’ll only make it worst. So you just hug her, your way of silently thanking her. 

You understand how hard it must be to see the one you love with someone else, you remember how it was when they were dating...And you feel just a little bit guilty (because after all, she broke up with him fist), but you know she’s right. 

It shouldn’t matter what your family think...Then, why does it ? 

************

You end up really calming down and leaving the gym. It was M’gann’s turn to mistreat those poor “gym artifacts”. As you leave and go to the common room, your path crosses is and...Here it is again. 

That stupid smile you can’t seem to erase from your face whenever you see him. The good thing is, he smiles back. 

You approach each others with a few quick steps, and your fingers end up entwining with each others. He lays his forehead against yours, hunching quite a long way down to do so as your way shorter than him (something you took after your mother, not your dad). 

-Hey you, how has your day been ? 

-Well...meh, and yours ? 

-It was meh too until now...

-Oh you’re so damn cheesy Kon. 

-Only with you. 

-Good. 

You go on your tip toes to be able to reach him, and softly brush your lips on his. He smiles some more and asks : 

-Why was your day meh ? 

-I told my mother I was in a steady relationship with you. 

-...And ? 

-She had the same reaction as the others...

-I’m sorry...

-It’s not you’re fault they’re kinda assholes babe. 

His smile widen, and he bents down to peck your lips, whispering in your ear : 

-Do you call all of your loved one “asshole” ? 

You chuckled lowly as you remember the day you two professed your love for each others...it didn’t really started well, as you indeed called him an “asshole”.

You turn your head and he’s right there, so close...He brings you flush against his body and his lips are on yours, moving in sync with your own as the kiss turns passionate. You tumble backward, and he catches you in his strong arms. He does more than catching you actually, lifting you up you wrap your legs around his waist and you pull away just a few seconds to say : 

-Let’s find a quite place, if anyone, let’s say my dad or uncle Clark, finds us like this, in the corridor, they’re gonna flip out...

He nods before going back to devour your mouth, and turn to the first door he sees. A quite place you say ? Well, chances are this room is empty. Most rooms are empty. He kicks in the door and close it behind him with his foot. 

One of your hand goes to tangle itself in his hair, as the other takes hold of his shoulder. Both his hands are on your behind and you let the hand that’s on his shoulder run slowly down his side, in the intention to go creep under his shirt when someone clears his throat. 

You both pull away quickly, surprised, and turn to look at the source of the noise. Oh. Of course. 

For real though, what are the odds that you and your boyfriend would choose the ONE ROOM in this gigantic headquarter, where your entire family would be ? ...It really wasn't your day. 

************

Awkwardly, you slip down Conner’s body but do not let go of him, actually movie ever so closer to him, trying to shield yourself from the view of your father, brothers and uncle Clark. 

All of them but Dick glare at Conner, and you can feel the anger rise in your boyfriend’s chest. You understand him (you always do), his life was already mostly unfair, and now, once he finally found something good that made him happy, they wanted to take you away from him. And they where mad at him, not even at you. 

Of course he didn’t want them to be mad at you but...how was it fair that only him was the source that sprout all this hostility ?  A couple, by definition, wasn’t just one person...You stroke his arm lovingly, and you can hear his heart starting to calm down if only a little bit. 

Your father’s voice, implacable, is the first one resonating in the room : 

-Might I know what you’re doing ? 

You shrink a little bit behind Conner because, when he really wants, your father can be scary...but then, a thought hits your mind and refuses to leave it. It starts to anger you too. You’re the daughter of the greatest detective in the World, and you inherited some of his deduction skills...You hope that you’re wrong, but something tells you your guts are right. 

You get out of behind Conner, who was standing tall in front of your very frightening father (oh god you loved that man, his courage and braveness was just irresistible), and narrow your eyes at your family. 

Your father doesn’t look away, but Clark does, as well as Tim and Dick. Jason was looking at the ceiling since the beginning, and Damian wasn’t even hiding his animosity towards your boyfriend, glaring at him as if he was about to murder the hell out of him...

Their reaction kinda confirms your doubts, and with a voice as cold as your father’s, you ask : 

-What are you doing ?

The harshness of your tone surprises even your dad, and he flinches a bit, before regaining his neutral face. He answers : 

-I believed I ask first. 

He knows what you’re about to do. You’re going to turn the table and put him in a delicate situation. Oh damn that part you took from your mother...You give him his own trademark bat-smirk and say : 

-I believe it was fairly obvious. I was kissing my boyfriend. French kissing him to be precise. And I was planning on more. Does that answer your question...father ?

Your dad winces. Yes, you were totally taking the advantage. And the fact that you’re calling him “father”, which you never do, makes his heart tighten. 

Clark shifts awkwardly on his seat, and your brothers, including Dick, all look horrified at what you just implied. 

You turn to look at Conner’s face to make sure he is ok, and he smiles down at you, of this genuine smile full of love and adoration you love so much. 

He would never admit it, or maybe would in a moment of weakness, when alone with you but...it drove him crazy, the way you always stood up for him at all time. You never let him down, even when he was wrong. You always stuck up for him, and it made him fall just a bit more in love with you each time, which he thought was impossible, giving the fact that he was already crazy ‘bout you. 

You stare down all of your brothers, taking a bit more time on Damian who didn’t even realize you were looking at him, and on Jason who was trying really hard to avoid your gaze. 

You stare down your “Uncle Clark”. 

But you can’t stare down your father, you know it, and so you continue your plan of attack : 

-So. Your turn now. What are you doing here ? 

Your dad shrugs and say : 

-Just enjoying each others’ company. 

-Oh, you thought of better lies...Father. This is kind of sad. 

He flinches once more. Oh god he hated when you called him “father”. You decide to put an end to their awkward misery : 

-I know why you’re all here. And let me tell you, it won’t work. 

They act innocently (or try to), but you take none of it : 

-I’m not stupid, and you guys know that. Maybe it’s a bit pretentious of me to think I’m smart but...I know what you’re doing. And it won’t work. I love Conner alright ? You guys can’t change anything about this. 

You feel the hand he had on your waist squeeze you a bit, and look at him. He’s clearly confused, and you explain, just for him : 

-I think, I’m not entirely sure but I’m like...96% sure though it’s certain there’s some doubts that...They were having a little reunion to find ways to break us up. Am I right or am I right ?

It’s Dick who breaks first, and the rest of them can only glare at him as he rats them out : 

-I’m so sorry (Y/N), I tried to tell them it wasn’t a good idea ! I was...

He stops as his eyes catch yours. And a wave of guilt washes over all of them. You don’t look angry anymore, you just don’t have the strength to act as if you’re mad, to put on a show. No. You just can’t. 

Because the people that count the most in your life, the one you love and would die for...were so much against your relationship that they were having a meeting about how to take you away from your boyfriend. 

The people you trusted the most in the World were betraying you. You know they’re trying to do good, to protect you but...knowing that they just couldn’t accept your own choice really broke your heart. 

And they see it. They see in your eyes that they just hurt you. And when you speak again, it’s confirmed, and their own heart break at the thought that they’re the cause of your distress. This isn’t what they wanted. They were here to protect you. Slowly, they started to understand their mistakes, but it was too late as you say : 

-You guys are unbelievable. All of you. Maybe not you Dick but...still. It’s just incredible. I told you times and times again that Conner made me happy. That I loved him. And guess what ? He loves me too ! I told you guys a million times that it was great, that we were great for each others. And yet...here you are, thinking you can foment a plant to tear us apart. Well let me tell you that, even if you tried really hard, you wouldn’t be able to. Because what’s between Conner and I...It’s real. It’s love. It’s trust. It’s mutual respect to the highest level...It’s everything you guys are not giving me right now. I’m...I’m so disappointed in all of you. I trusted you. I trusted you ! 

You take a deep breath, and find the courage to continue in Conner bringing you closer to him, a protective arm around your shoulder : 

-You guys aren’t protecting me, you’re breaking me ! I’m always there for all of you and that’s how you repay me ? By wanting to take away the thing that makes me the happiest in life ? Uncle Clark, you’ve got no right doing that. Especially not after how you treated Conner. All he wants is your attention, your advices, your guidance and you keep pushing him away...You have no rights to do this ! Jason, Tim and Damian, I love you guys, I really do. You’re the best brothers any girl could ask for, and I know you’re trying to do the right thing but...You have it all wrong ! The right thing would be to let me be happy ! And sure, if he breaks my heart, go break his spine but...he hasn’t done it yet, and I have a feeling he won’t ! If anything, it’s me and my problems expressing my feelings that will fuck things up ! That I take after you dad and...Talking about you, you need to let me go. I’m not six anymore. And though I do still enjoy when you come tuck me in, when you kiss my forehead reassuringly and when you’re being protective, I’m a grown up now. And you can’t have control over every aspect of my life. I always listened to you, trusted you and believed in you...It’s...It’s painful to thin the feeling’s not mutual. 

He’s about to say something, and you know you hurt him by saying that but you cut him off : 

-No, I don’t wanna hear about it. I don’t wanna hear any apologizes or explanations. I don’t want to hear your reasoning. I want you all to leave me and Conner alone. At least for now. And...I...I...Don’t come back to me before you accepted that me and Conner, it’s happening. We love each other. Which means that yes, we kiss sometimes. We’re super cheesy and lovey dovey. And yes, we make love. And you know what ? That’s how life goes. I’m a grown up. And I know what I want. So please, don’t come back until you printed that in your brain, until you finally trust me to make my own choices. 

And on that note, you leave, with Conner’s hand clutched in yours tightly. You leave before they can see the tears streaming down your face. 

Dick turns to his brothers, to his father, and to his Uncle Clark, and with a cold voice that doesn’t resemble him, he says :

-Are you guys happy now ? 

************

You take the nearest zeta tube and you’re transported back to the mansion, where you quickly take some stuffs, and shove it all in your car. A hand on your shoulder, Conner asks you if you’re sure of what you’re doing and...yes. Yes you are. 

You then drive to a fancy hotel in Gotham’s center, where you take a room for you and Conner. When you arrive in, you fall on the bed and hide under the blankets...Slowly, your boyfriend come close to you and sits on the bed.

-I...Thank you (Y/N). Nobody ever did anything like that for me...You’re...Nobody ever done something that nice. I...I love you so much (Y/N) Wayne. 

You take your head out of the blanket and smile weakly. His heart starts to beat wildly as he sees tears stream down your face, and thinks it’s his fault...but before he can say anything else, you reassure him, as you understands what went through his mind (you always understands) : 

-It’s not your fault Conner. It’s them. Again, they’re kind of assholes. And...They’ll come around. If they truly love me, they will. 

-Of course they love you. They just want to protect y...

-Yes yes I know. But there’s nothing to protect me from. I love you Conner. 

-I love you too. With all my being. And...thank you.

-Don’t thank me. Thank you for being the source of my happiness. It’s not easy being the bats’ daughter, you...you’re making it easier. I’m sorry I’m not good with words, I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me. 

-What you just did is proof enough...And you can’t even imagine how much I love you. I’m...I can’t live without you. 

You can’t hold the smile creeping on your face, and lift the blanket so that he can comes under with you. He does, wrapping his arms around you. 

-Look at us Kon. Bunch of cheesy fuckers. 

-I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

-Me neither...

And like it’s the most natural thing in the world, your lips connect, and you kiss each other passionately, trying to convey all your feelings for each others. 

Once again, before you can creep his hand up his shirt, or he can touch your skin, your phone rings. 

It’s your father, and as Conner shamelessly trails wet kisses down your neck, your heart starts to beat wildly as your father, probably for the first time of his life, says : 

-...I’m sorry sweetie.  

Maybe that day wasn’t that bad after all.

Fin ? 

_________________

Meh. Hope you liked it. Sorry it’s so long. 

[astral-writings]

Does A Dead Body Count?

Word Count: 1,721 Reader (biological) sex: idk?? Love Interest: Bucky Prompt: “So you remember how to not call you unless it was an emergency?…Does a dead body count?”

I looked at the dead body that rested upon the pavement of the alley, blood making a small pool around it’s head. In all fairness, he came after me first, it’s his fault that he’s dead. Unfortunately, I can’t just leave him here, and I certainly can’t tell anyone that I’ve managed to get another person killed. I already am in hot water because of last week when I accidentally killed like 5 people at the same time.

How was I suppossed to know that they’d die if I left them in that meat locker for too long? Then there was last month when a guy I was tracking accidentally drove off of a cliff and died on impact. Let’s not forget the month before that when I managed to kill someone with a paperclip. It’s not my fault that this keeps happening. Alright, maybe it’s a little my fault, but I still can’t have this getting back to Fury.

Or Tony, for that matter. I’ll be catching shit from both ends. I sighed, trying to think of what to do. ‘Don’t call me unless it’s an emergency,’ echoed through my mind. Bucky and I haven’t been on the best of terms, and while he was being sarcastic, it was still an offer. Besides, it’s either try and rope him into helping me, or face Fury. Frankly, I’d rather face Bucky’s broody self than an angry and irritated Fury.

I took out my phone, scrolling through the contacts until Bucky’s screen name popped up. I pressed his name, and hesitated before pressing the call button. I really need to do something about this luck that I have sticking to me. Should I really call him? A moment of mental silence passed, of course I should. I pressed the call button, and lifted the phone to my ear, gently kicking the body with my left foot.

“So you remember how to not call you unless it was an emergency?” I questioned, “Does a dead body count?”

“Do you also remember about how I wasn’t serious?” He shot back, “Wait, dead body? You killed someone again?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” I defended.

“Oh, really? Like how the meat locker wasn’t your fault?” He questioned.

“I’m being serious! He tried to kill me and-” I began.

“So you kill him?” Bucky questioned.

“Are you going to help me or not?” I asked angrily.

“I don’t know, I might actually enjoy watching your ass get handed to you by Fury.” Bucky said.

“You’re such an ass!” I exclaimed, hanging up.

I angrily shoved my phone back into my pocket, kicking the still-dead body in front of me. This is all his fault! He just had to try and kill me, didn’t he?! He couldn’t have waited another week to do it?! If Fury finds out about this, my ass is grass. I huffed, bending down to drag him against the wall. I guess I should try to make it look like another crime happened, and hope that this doesn’t get traced back to me.

I wonder how long it will be before Fury just decides to fire me. I’d like to think that my fantastic abilities make up for the fact that I’m killing people practically every day. Right as I plopped the dead man against the wall, my phone started ringing. I ignored the call as soon as I saw who it was, Bucky probably just wants to torture me some more. He also probably isn’t going to stop calling until I pick up, given that he’s calling a second time.

“What the hell do you want?” I asked.

“To help, tell me where you are.” He offered.

“What, decided that getting my ass handed to me might not actually be that entertaining?” I questioned.

“I like harassing you too much to let you get fired, doll.” He confessed.

“Aw, don’t I just feel special.” I said and I could practically hear the eye roll.

“Whatever, just tell me where you are.” He changed the topic.

“In the alley of Christie's Coffee and Dunkin’ Donuts.” I said.

“Alright, see you in a bit, serial killer.” Bucky teased.

“Hey! It was an accident! I didn’t mean to kill them.” I defended.

“Sure it was, Y/n. It always is.” He said with a joking tone.

“Hey-” I began, but he hung up before I could say anything else.

I huffed, shoving my phone back in my pocket and leaning against the alley wall. I wonder how long it’ll take for him to get here. I looked down at the guy, raising an eyebrow as the blood started to trail over me. Nuh-uh, I don’t think so, these are brand new shoes and I’m not getting blood on them for at least a week. I stepped off of the wall, standing out of the way of the blood trail. I looked over his dead body with a sigh.

I suppose I could’ve been a little neater with killing him, this is going to be a bitch to clean up. Well, hopefully Bucky has a plan because I got nothing right now. I guess it’s also nice to catch the good side of him, rather than the one who is always an ass to me. I didn’t know there was a sweet side under all of that sour exterior. My head perked up as I heard a car quietly park, Bucky’s face following soon after.

“This the guy?” He questioned and I nodded.

“Yep, that’s the dude.” I confirmed.

“Looks like you really did a number on him.” He pointed out and I sighed.

“I was ambushed! Sorry that the first thing on my mind was stay alive rather than be clean.” I huffed.

“Apology accepted, even though I wasn’t accusing you of anything.” Bucky said with a smile.

“Ass.” I said, hitting his shoulder.

Bucky put the guy in a black body bag, shoved the guy in the trunk, and closed it. The sky thundered and ran began pouring from the clouds, the water mixing with the blood. Awesome, looked like there won’t be a massive clean-up job after all. The water hit my face and drenched my hair as I made my way to his car, and quickly getting inside. I huffed, buckling my seatbelt as he sped out of the area.

I raised my eyebrow at him, noticing that he didn’t have a seatbelt on. He looked at me with slight confusion, raising an eyebrow back at me. I reached across from him, grabbing his seatbelt, and buckling it for him. No need for us to die too, it’d be a little too extreme for a simple body dump. Besides, who is gonna give me shit if Bucky goes? He cleared his throat before he rolled his eyes, readjusting himself on his seat.

“Really?” He questioned.

“Yep, safety first.” I confirmed.

“I’d like to think I’d be fine either way, Doll.” He said and I shook my head.

“Yeah, so does everybody. Next thing ya know, you’re laying in a bed, deprived of 3 of your senses with your limbs amputated.” I dramatically declared.

“Well, at least I have a head start, then.” He joked and my head snapped at him.

“You are not dying on my watch, got it?” I questioned.

“Okay, fine, mom.” He joked and I smiled and rolled my eyes.

Bucky stopped once we were at the bridge, parking the car near the railing. I looked at him as he got out of the car before mimicking his actions. It was raining even harder now, and I could hardly see in front of me. I helped Bucky carry the body to the edge of the railing, the action requiring more effort than I had initially planned. You know, I don’t recall this guy weighing as much as he does now.

“What did you do, shove an elephant in here?” I grunted.

“We gotta make sure he stays at the bottom, unless you want someone to find him.” He pointed out.

“Good point.” I huffed.

After what seemed like ages we finally made it to the railing. I glanced over it, barely able to see the water below. I looked back at Bucky, only now noticing that he was counting down. I swung the body with him, and threw him over the railing once the countdown was finished. I heard a faint splash after a moment, and I waited a moment before following Bucky back into his car. I cleared my throat as I got in, a shiver running down my spine.

The rest of the car ride was silent, apart from me sneezing and the sound of the heater. Getting sick is the last thing I need right now, it’s bad enough that I’m being watched like a hawk at HQ. I sniffed as Bucky parked the car, and I squinted as I looked out the window. Hey, this isn’t my house at all. I’ve been lied to, deceived, bamboozled. Maybe he’s going to have me do some sworn-to-secrecy-you-owe-me-one ritual.

“Come on, you’re staying at my place tonight.” Bucky said as he opened my door, helping me out.

Or he could just be acting like a human being, and trying to prevent me from getting terribly ill. I took his hand and got out of the car, another shiver racking through my body. Yep, I’m so getting sick, and I’m so going to die before the day is out. Well, not literally, but it’s definitely going to feel that way. I curled into Bucky as we made our way inside, my hair dripping water onto the floor. Ah, yes, make a total mess, what a great first impression.

“I’ll call Fury and tell him you won’t be in tomorrow.” Bucky said, walking away and getting out his phone.

“Huh? What?! No!” I called as he put the phone to his ear, walking away from me.

“Hey, Y/n is sick and-” Bucky began.

“NO!” I cried, running over to him, stepping onto the nearby chair and onto his back, “I’M FINE!” I exclaimed, trying to get the phone from him.

[ellana-ravenwood]

“The fuck are you wearing ?” - Wolverine x Reader

I saw a deleted scene from Reel Steel where Hugh Jackman is shirtless and then puts on a shirt, and besides the fact that he’s incredibly sexy, I couldn’t help but think...”What the fuck is he wearing ?” cause that shirt is...I don’t know I just find it funny. So...Here we go with a short and shitty Wolverine thing, because...Yeah. Boom, here, hope you’ll like it : 

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

_____________________________________________________________________

It was still rather early in the morning when you felt Logan’s side of the bed shift, and you groan as he slipped the arm that was under your head away, and stood up. You slowly opened one eye. In the light of the rising sun, you could see his naked silhouette gathering some clothes from his wardrobe. Damn he looked good. You wanted him to come back to bed...

-Logan, honey, it’s like - you quickly looked at your alarm clock- 6 am...Oh my god it’s 6 fucking am ! It’s Sunday, and you’re up at 6 am. The Hell is wrong with you ? 

You heard him chuckle as he put on some boxers and pants. You gave him a disappointed pout, because you wanted to check him out some more, and he just smiled at you, giving you one of his sexy wink he reserved for you only.

-I promised Cap’ we’d go on a motorcycle ride today, road trip you know. So we can talk about old times and such. 

You rolled your eyes to the sky, but couldn’t help the smile creeping on your face. To the surprise of many, the Wolverine was actually a great friend. Once you went threw his layers of being a bit rough and broody and a “lone wolf”, he was great to be around. He was always there for his close one, and if someone needed him, wether it was to talk, get drunk, or just hang out...He was up for it. Still, you sometime had trouble sharing. 

-Alright old man, alright. Can’t you promise to do things in the afternoon though ? I was so up for a lazy morning full of sex...

-He wants to go to a place that is far, gotta leave early. 

-And you completely overlooked my comment about sex...

-Well, yeah, because if I don’t, I’m not gonna leave, and I promised. I try to keep my promises you know sweetheart...

You were now sitting on his side of the bed, your legs dangling on the edge, and he laid his hand on each side of your thighs, bending down to kiss you quickly...which turned into a passionate kiss as you grip the back of his neck and pulled him toward you. He almost lost his balance and collapse on you, but he escaped your grip. 

-I’m serious Y/N. Steve hasn’t felt great lately, he needs this trip. I’ll make it up to you tonight. 

-You better. 

With another wink, he grabbed a random shirt from his wardrobe and put it on...

You had a bad habit of stealing his clothes to sleep. Like right now, you were wearing one of his button up flannel shirt. It was just so comfy. But what he had on his back at this instant... Well that was definitely a shirt you will never stole from him.

-What the fuck are you wearing Lo’ ? 

-Whatever do you mean ? 

-Exactly what I just said, what is that ? Looks like you stole Fred Flintstones’ favorite shirt. It’s like...some sort of tank top mixed with a button up shirt...and it has...a tie attached to it...What is it ? Why are you wearing it ?

-It’s just a shirt...

-For real though, what the Hell...Why does it have a tie...Couldn’t it made its damn mind about what it is ? It can’t be more than one type of shirt at the same time ! 

-Y/N, it’s just a shirt. Get over it. 

-No, it’s the ugliest shirt I’ve ever seen. You can’t go out like this. 

-I was gonna put my leather jacket on it anyway. 

-Oh God, even worse. You know me Logan, I don’t really care about clothes and such...but...even I have my limits. that thing is an atrocity. Like it shouldn’t exist. 

-Don’t you think you’re over-doing it Y/N ? It’s not that bad.

-Oh trust me it is. Look at yourself in the mirror, for real, it’s so weird. 

He rolled his eyes and went to your shared bathroom to look at himself. There was a short silence before he came back.

-Alright, you’re right, it’s ugly as fuck. 

-Right ? A monstrosity ! We should burn it. 

He smiled and took it off. You gave his pecs and abs an appreciative look. The man was muscular, and you totally had a thing for his coarse  black chest hair. 

-I don’t even know where I got it, where it comes from. 

-Straight from Hell that’s where it comes from. Created by Satan himself for soulless rednecks ! 

-Ok, I know it’s ugly, but you’re really overreacting. You’re so dramatic.

-I’m so not. Just look at it. Even on you it doesn’t look good, and you can totally pull off anything, any look. Or so I thought. 

He picked up a plain black shirt and put it on, and smirked at you. 

-I look good in everything eh ? 

-Well, duh. You’re incredibly handsome buddy. Even the baggiest jeans make your ass look great. And I’ve seen you in terribly ugly leotard and still look sexy as fuck. 

He smiled and bend down to kiss you again, this time letting you slip your hand under his shirt and feel him a bit. He had to summon all of his will to pull away from you. 

-I think you look great in everything. You’re the one that’s beautiful. Especially when you’re wearing my clothes, turns me on every time. I’m not gonna lie, I have to resist a helluva lot not to tear your clothes away and take you right now...

-Oh yeah ? 

-Yeah, you look damn good in my shirt.  

-Well, in all of them...but the one made by Satan that you threw on the floor.

-Oh my God just let it go bub ! 

-I’ll let it go once it’ll be destroyed so that no one can witness what I just saw. I’ve seen some shit in my life, but that...

He smiled, and with a quick peck on your lips stood straight again. He picked the “shirt made by Satan” from the floor, and shoved it into his backpack. 

-I’ll ask Cap’ to help me destroy it. We never know, might be booby trapped by Lucifer, might need some back-up. 

-Oh good thinking babe, it could be. Be careful my love, and come back to me in one piece. Don’t let the shirt win. 

He laughed. A genuine huge thunderous laugh that resonated in your shared bedroom. Oh he loved you. You were the only one that could have made a scene like that about a simple shirt (mind you, it really was ugly), and not annoy him to Hell. On the contrary, he thought you and you’re antics were hilarious. Just when he thought he couldn’t love you more, you pulled this kind of things on him...You were too awesome, so much better than him and though he wasn’t a religious man, he often thanked God for the day he put you on his way. If you knew he was thinking that you were too good for him though, you’d probably have punch him. You hated when he talked like that, because he was as good to you as you were to him. There was no Y/N without Wolverine. And not a day passed without you thinking about how lucky you were too. 

He gave you one last kiss, and left, a huge smile on his lips. 

-Love you princess. 

-Love you too old man. 

You went back to sleep. You spent your day chilling with your best friend Storm, and telling the story of a shirt you were sure was cursed. She laughed so hard, you had a talent to make people laugh. You spent quite a pleasant day with your friends, though you were eagerly waiting for your man to return. 

Turned out, the shirt helped Captain America relax. Logan told him about what you said, and it made Steve Rogers laugh like never before...besides, he thought too that it was the ugliest thing he ever seen. When they took a break from their ride to eat something, they burned the shirt to a crisp, laughing about how they just saved humanity from it. It was a good day for both of you.

And even a better one when Logan came home to you, where you were waiting for him, naked, a look in your eyes that turned him into the most lustful man on Earth. Beautiful or not, the shirt he wore that day was tore to shred by your eagerness, and you forgot about everything as the two of you made passionate love to each other. Great fucking day indeed.