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fandomsaligninstories · 2 years

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The Secret Musician

Prompt: Max and Bucky’s relationship isn’t the only secret she’s keeping form the team. Max has taught herself to play instruments, but she never dared to tell anyone. That is, until the perfect storm occurs. Alcohol, encouragement from Wanda and Natasha, and “Somebody to Love” by Queen. Song Rec: Somebody to Love by Queen TW: None Word Count: 2064 Pairing: The Avengers x OC (Max), Bucky Barnes x OC (Max)

Max's POV:

I hummed along to the song playing softly through my headphones, the pencil in my hand mindlessly tapping against the blank page. I looked out the window to my right, tucking a loose curl behind my ear.

I could see people walking around in a hurry, cars flying by in a blur. It was impossible to hear any of the city noise from the thirtieth floor of the tower, but I could imagine it. Having lived in the city for a few years, I've found comfort in noise. In the hundreds of engines roaring through the streets, the people yelling at others, the subway screeching, the street artists... It was in the music that I found the most comfort, though.

It started with a performer in Bryant Park, some kid playing the guitar. I didn't recognize the song, but I found a certain... solace in it. After that, I started to teach myself how to play an acoustic guitar. It only took a couple of months, a lag in missions and bad guys giving the team a break. Once I got the hang of the guitar, I moved on to the piano. I had always thought it was a beautiful instrument, I just never took the time to learn before.

In the span of a year, I had learned how to play a handful of instruments. My favorite had become my acoustic guitar, the feel of the wood and nylon against my fingers became a grounding method of mine. A way to bring me back to the present, to calm me down.

Despite the joy I found in music, I chose not to share it with anyone. I often wrote my own songs, but I didn't want anyone to hear them. I needed something to be mine, a thing that no one else could touch. Not even the most important person in the world- Bucky. We've been together a few months now, another secret from the team. I knew, the moment I first saw him, that he would change my life. And I was right. In the span of three months, we formed an unbreakable bond, both physical and emotional. It wasn't easy for either of us, we both had our ghosts, but we made it work. We wanted it to work.

We didn't want the team to know because they were nosey, had no sense of boundaries. They wanted to know every single detail of every single moment. It was infuriating, so we agreed to keep our relationship a secret. I had a suspicion that they were starting to figure it out, though.

———

I hated these parties. The suits, the dresses, the fake smiles and laughs. Hated them. But Tony insisted that everyone attend, some excuse about making the team 'look normal'.

I sat at the bar with Nat and Wanda, the three of us drinking our weight in fruity cocktails and vodka. They were talking about the latest mission they were on, one I had chosen to stay out of. I looked around the room, pausing to look at Bucky as he laughed with Steve and Sam. I loved his laugh; the way the corners of his eyes crinkled and he leaned back, a hand on his chest. He laughed with his whole body.

I continued looking around the room, watching the small band in the corner. They were switching between classic rock and R&B. A few yards away from them was a karaoke machine, something that was at most parties. A middle-aged man, who was obviously drunk, was trying to sing along to Whitney Houston. He was butchering it, from the little I could hear.

I turned back to the conversation as Wanda bumps my shoulder with hers, asking where my mind was. She looked over to where I was staring, a devilish smile taking over her face, "You should go sing!"

"What? No, no. I don't sing." I spun around to the bar, downing the rest of my drink then signaling for another.

"C'mon," Nat slurred slightly, "No one will even hear you over the band! Just one song!"

I shook my hand, downing the two shots the bartender had sat in front of me. I was about to argue back when they started dragging me across the room, insisting I play one song. I knew then that I had too much to drink, because I agreed. They shoved me onto the small stage, towards the guy who was sitting behind a computer.

"What song would you like?"

"Um..." I thought for a moment, trying to think of a song I knew by heart, "Somebody to Love by Queen."

"Ah, a classic." He handed me the mic and signaled for me to go ahead. I glanced out over the crowd of people, no one even noticing me. I stopped when I realized Nat and Wanda had pulled Tony, Steve, Sam, and Bucky over towards me. They were in the middle of a conversation when their eyes met mine. A smirk crossed Tony's face and I could hear him mumble "this should be good". Steve and Sam looked amused, while Bucky shook his head and chuckled. I was obviously drunk, so he was likely thinking about how he'd have to take care of me later.

"Can anybody find me somebody to love?" I swayed along with the music, getting into it, "Each morning I get up I die a little, can barely stand on my feet."

As the song went on, I noticed the looks of shock on my friends faces. They were speechless. When the song was finished, I stumbled towards them, my body buzzing from the alcohol and adrenaline.

I tripped and fell forward, Bucky catching me easily, "Careful, Doll." He whispered in my ear before helping me stand upright.

"How come you never told us you could sing?!"

"That was amazing!"

"You were so good! Perfect!"

"What else are you hiding from us?!"

Everyone talked over one another, their shock obvious. I giggled, shrugging. They quickly realized I wasn't going to be answering their questions, mind fogged from the alcohol. Wanda and Nat grabbed my hands and pulled me towards the dance floor, urging me to dance with them. I faintly registered a popular rock song the band was playing, swaying my hips and laughing with the girls.

As the party died down and everyone left, the team started to dismiss themselves. First Steve took Nat to her room, then Vision took Wanda to her room. It was after two in the morning when Bucky tried to get me to my room. I refused to go, swaying to the music in my brain. He shook his head, picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder.

I giggled loudly, "Buckyyy!" I slurred, "What're you doin'?" He stay silent as he walked. I reached down and smacked his ass, earning a groan and mirrored smack from him. I giggled loudly again, pressing my elbows against his back and holding my head up with my hands.

He dropped me onto my bed, hands on his hips, "You are very drunk."

"Mmmhmmmm," I smirked, "And you are very hot."

He rolled his eyes, pulling me back to my feet. He pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, then pulled me towards the bathroom. I dug my heels into the carpet, crossing my arms, "No bed! I'm not tired! I wanna have fun!"

"C'mon doll, you know the answer is no."

"Why not?" I whined and pouted, sitting on the edge of the bed. I thought for a moment, oh yeah.

We had made a rule when we first got together. No sex while drunk. It came after the night we first slept together. He had managed to get drunk off of Thor's Asgardian ale and I had been drunk from a girls night out. We had been dating for a few weeks at the point, so we were both feeling a little guilty when we woke up the next morning.

"You're such... Such a gentleman. Dammit." I continued to pout until he pulled me up again, kissing my forehead.

"C'mon, lets get you changed." He gently spun me around, pulling at the zipper on the back of my dress. He placed feather-light kisses behind my ear, down my neck, and on my shoulder. The dress fell in a pool at my feet, his hands tracing down my arms as he kissed the back of my shoulder. I reached behind me to unclip my bra, grumbling as the clip fought against me. He grabbed my hands and forced them away, unclipping the damned fabric and letting it drop to the floor.

I turned around, reaching up to tangle my hands in his hair and kiss him roughly. His groaned softly, pulling my hands from his hair and took a step back. He kept his eyes on mine, forever a gentleman.

"Lift up your arms, doll." I did as he said. He slipped a shirt over my arms and head, letting it fall softly against me. I dropped my arms and closed my eyes, taking in the scent. I couldn't pinpoint his cologne, but it smelt... warm. With hints of amber, musk, and cinnamon.

I was pulled from my thoughts as he pushed me towards the bed. He threw the blankets down and gestured for me to get in. When I hesitated, he picked me up and placed me in bed, pulling the blankets up and tucking them in around me. He handed me a water bottle instructing me to start drinking, as he walked over to the ensuite. He came back a few moments later, an Advil in his hand. I took them without hesitation, finishing off the water.

He walked to the other side of the bed, sliding in behind me. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. I curled into him, pulling the covers closer, the warmth lulling me to sleep.

———

I woke up the next morning with a dull headache. I groaned as I sat up, stretching my arms above my head. I noticed that Bucky had left, likely going for his morning run with Steve. I changed into a pair of sweatpants and a tanktop, brushing out my tangled curls and putting them up into a bun.

I made my way out to the kitchen, most of the team sitting around the table. I smiled as Bucky's eyes caught mine, a silent thank you for last night. I sat at the end of the table, pushing my glasses up as I looked around at everyone. Nat and Wanda were both holding their heads, likely hungover. Vision was talking with Tony, Sam and Steve.

Bucky placed a plate of pancakes in front of me, a glimmer in his eyes. I smiled, quietly saying thank you. It was common knowledge that we made breakfast for each other most mornings, a 'friendly gesture' as far as the team was concerned. They didn't seem to be suspicious, only having questioned it once.

Tony looked at me and smirked, "So, Max, how'd you sleep?"

"Uh..." I put my knife down as I finished cutting up my pancakes, realizing everyone was staring at me. I glance to Bucky, oh shit, they know. He sat beside me, shaking his head subtly.

"You put up quite the performance last night. You must have been exhausted."

"What're you talking about?"

"Ohh, can anybody find somebody for me to love?" He sang mockingly.

"Oh my god, I thought that was a dream!" I groaned, dropping my head to my hands. The rest of the team started to tease me as well as I kept my face in my hands, embarrassment causing my entire body to heat up. I felt a hand squeeze my thigh and I glanced up, a look of pity on Bucky's face.

"Guys, shut the fuck up, would you?" Nat groaned, glaring at Tony.

"You're all so loud... How're you not hungover, Max?" Wanda asked, her voice sounding strained.

I giggled at them, shrugging. "I don't know, I must have an angel watching over me."

They groaned again, dropping their heads back onto the table. I looked at Bucky, smiling. His cheeks were tinted pink, eyes shining as he stared back at me. Tony rolled his eyes, going back to his conversation with the other boys.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #avengers #avengers fanfic #avengers imagine #mcu #mcu fic #marvel #marvel fanfic #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #tony stark #steve rogers #marvel imagine #fandomsalign writes

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

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Innocent Until Proven Guilty

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: when the Avengers notice signs of Peter having a girlfriend, they suspect he’s not as innocent as he seems

Masterlist

“Hey Pete the treat.” Tony greeted Peter as he passed him in the hallway. “Have you seen my screwdriver with the orange handle?”

“Oh, yeah.” Peter remembered. “I used it to fix my web shooters. It’s on my desk in my room.”

“Mind if I grab it?”

“Would you listen if I said no?” Peter asked, assuming he knew the answer?

“Nope.” Tony smiled at how well Peter knew him. “I’ll go get it.”

Tony waltzed into Peters room and went straight to his desk, rummaging through the papers and sketches he had strewn about.

“Now where are you hiding?” Tony drummed his fingers on his chin as he looked around Peters desk. He opened the top drawer and found nothing, so he opened the next drawer and began to rummage around. After moving a notebook to the side, Tony found an unopened box of condoms among Peters things.

“Hm.” Tony furrowed his eyebrows at the surprising find. “Well it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

He put it down and continued searching through the draw before the box caught his eye again.

“Value pack?” Tony read off the box. “Jesus.”

He shut the drawer and found the screwdriver in the next drawer, mindlessly tucking it into his pocket. As he left Peters room, the box stayed in his mind. He walked into the living room and found the rest of the Avengers chatting.

“What do you guys think about Peter?” Tony wondered as he toyed with the screwdriver.

“I don’t think about Peter.” Sam deadpanned.

“He seems lonely, no?” Tony shrugged. “He could use a companion of the female variety.”

“We should set him up.” Steve suggested. “He could use someone.”

“I don’t know.” Nat scrunched her nose. “He seems too young to be dating.”

“He’s in college now. It’s about time he gets a girlfriend.” Tony decided. “I had dozens by the time I was his age.”

“Are we even sure he likes girls?” Rhodey asked.

“He complimented my hair color once.” Nat shrugged.

“There we go.” Tony nodded, getting excited now.

“What are you guys talking about?” Bucky asked quietly as he entered the room.

“We want to set Peter up on a date.” Steve told him.

“Parker? I’m pretty sure he has a girlfriend.” Bucky said, making everyone look at him.

“What?” Tony asked. “No way.”

“Yeah. My room is next to his.” He shrugged. “He’s on the phone all night almost every night.”

“What?” Nat laughed in surprise. “With who?”

“Someone named Y/n I’m pretty sure.” Bucky went on. “I hear her name a lot.”

“Y/n.” Tony rolled it around his mind. “Interesting. I have to know more.”

“I think if Peter wanted us to know more, he’d tell us.” Nat clicked her tongue.

“And I think I don’t care.” Tony retorted. “I’m gonna find out more.”

That night, Tony sat in the dark as he waited for Peter to come home. He heard the elevator coming up and shivered with excitement at the incoming confrontation.

“Hey, Parker.” Tony dramatically turned on the light once Peter walked in the room, making Peter jump.

“Hi Mr. Stark.” Peter stammered as he took off his coat.

“Are you just getting back?” Tony asked coyly.

“Yeah, I was out with my…friend.” Peter shifted his eyes at the mention of you.

“Oh really?” Tony feigned a gasp. “What’s his name?”

“Her name is Y/n.” Peter said casually. “I was with her.”

“So I see.” Tony nodded. “Is she from school?”

“Yeah. She’s in my organic chemistry class.”

“So one might say you two have…chemistry?” Tony shrugged as he walked closer to Peter.

“Anyone with our schedules would say that.” Peter laughed nervously.

“Whats she like?” Tony persisted. “Is she pretty?”

“She’s great.” Peter smiled. “She can talk circles around me about just about anything. I don’t even know why we’re in the same class. She’s so much smarter than everyone in the room, even the professor. She’s just...she’s great.”

“So I hear.” Tony smirked. Peter completely avoided the “pretty” question, and that told Tony everything he needed to know.

“Hear?” Peter asked curiously. “What did you hear?”

“Thin walls, buddy.” Tony knocked on the wall. “Bucky told us all about your late night phone calls with your lady friend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Peters face heated up. “I’ll be quieter.”

“You don’t have to be quieter.” Tony told him. “Bucky doesn’t deserve a peaceful nights sleep.”

“Why do you say that?” Peter asked.

“Because he murdered my parents. Night!” Tony threw up a peace sign before leaving the room. Peters jaw dropped a little before shutting. He quickly pulled out his phone and clicked on your contact.

“I think Mr. Stark is onto us” He texted you.

“Good. He can pay for our wedding 👀” You wrote, making him smile. He put his phone away and went to bed himself.

A few weeks later, Tony needed the screwdriver again and had an idea of where he could find it.

“Hey Pete. Did you use the screwdriver again?” Tony asked when he found Peter in the hallway.

“Yeah. It should be in the same place.” Peter informed him.

“Thanks.” Tony nodded and went into Peters room. He went to the desk, expecting to find the screwdriver in the same drawer it was in last time. When he didn’t find it there, he opened the drawer above it. Right on top of a pile of notebooks was the box from last time.

“I shouldn’t.” Tony sighed and chewed his lip. “But I’m feeling snoopy.”

Tony picked up the box and to his surprise, it was significantly lighter. Tony opened it up and peered inside, only to see it was nearly empty.

“Who did this to you?” Tony gasped. “Who took your goodies?”

Elsewhere in the tower, Peter was heading back to his room when he crashed into Natasha.

“Oh, sorry.” Peter apologized as he caught her before he could knock her over.

“It’s fine.” Natasha assured him, sniffing the air a little. “Why do you smell so good?”

“Hygiene is very important to me.” Peter straightened his shoulders to solidify his lie.

“Yeah, but,” she sniffed him again, “you smell fruity.”

“I’m a fruity boy.” Peter stated, regretting it immediately.

“Oh.” Natasha backed away a little, giving him a strange look.

“Not that kind of fruity.” Peter stammered. “I have to go.”

Just as Peter scurried away, Sam walked into the hallway.

“Am I crazy or did Peter smell like perfume?” Natasha pointed behind him.

“I don’t care.” Sam mumbled as he walked by.

“Romanoff.” Tony rounded the corner after leaving Peters room. “I think the Manchurian Candidiate was right. I think Peter has a girlfriend.”

“I think so too.” Natasha nodded. “He smelled like perfume just now.”

As Tony and Natasha exchanged evidence, Sam passed by Peters room just as he was going inside.

“Hey Sam.” Peter greeted before he shut his door.

“Don’t talk to me, Parker.” Sam mumbled without looking up.

“Sorry.” Peter chuckled and rolled his eyes, making Sam briefly look up.

“What’s that?” Sam narrowed his eyes when he spotted something peeking out over Peters collar.

“Whats what?” Peter asked as he pulled away.

“On your neck.” Sam caught his collar and pulled it down. “Is that a hickey?”

“No.” Peter said quickly as he covered his neck with his hand. “I burnt my neck with my curling iron.”

“Oh, okay.” Sam was satisfied with the answer. “Wait, what?”

“Bye Sam!” Peter stammered as he quickly shut the door.

Tony’s plans to interrogate Peter about his love life the following day were halted when he found Peters room empty. A quick check in with Friday showed Peter leaving earlier that morning with a few presents in hand. Tony sighed and went on with day, anxiously waiting for Peter to come home to get more information.

“Another late night.” Tony announced his presence as he flicked on the light. It wasn’t until after midnight that Peter had come back, so Tony waited him out in the living room.

“Oh, hi Mr. Stark.” Peter waved awkwardly, not having expected anyone to be there.

“Were you with Y/n again?” Tony asked casually.

“Yeah.” Peter smiled shyly as he shed his jacket. “It’s her birthday so I spent the day with her.”

“How come I never see her here?” Tony proceeded with caution, not wanting to overstep.

“She lives kinda far.” Peter shrugged. “That’s why we talk on the phone so much. I don’t want her driving all the way out here and she doesn’t want me swinging at night.”

“She knows?” Tony raised an eyebrow, not realizing they were at that level yet.

“Yes. But I only told her because I trust her.” Peter quickly assured him. “She won’t tell anyone. She promised me.”

“Oh, I’m not mad.” Tony smirked. “Trust is good. Especially in relationships, so I hear.”

“Yeah.” Peter smiled at the thought of you. “It’s good. We’re really good.”

“Have you told her you loved her yet?” Tony jumped to the point, taking Peter by surprise. “Because that smile on your face says you do.”

“I have.” Peter admitted as his face flushed. “And she told me she loves me too.”

“Aw.” Tony couldn’t help but smile at his protégé being in love. He was so moved that he took out one of his business cards and scribbled something on the back of it.

“Here.” He handed it to Peter. “Don’t abuse it.”

“Whats this?” Peter curiously looked at the number Tony had written in the card.

“It’s the number for my personal driver. One of them.” He corrected himself. “I always forget who I employ so I have about 18. This one makes unforgettable coffee cake, though.”

“Thanks Mr. Stark.” Peter smiled in appreciation. “But why are you giving this to me?”

“So you and Y/n can see each other.” Tony said simply. “And so more people can experience this coffee cake.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate this.” Peter said softly, knowing Tony wasn’t much for displays of affection.

“Don’t mention it.” Tony brushed it off. “Really, don’t. I don’t have enough personal drivers for everyone. I mean, I probably do, but I’m not known to share.”

“I won’t tell.” Peter nodded. “Goodnight, Mr. Stark.”

Tony have Peter a fond smile before nodding as well.

“Night kid.”

“Mails here.” Tony announced the following morning as the team sat around the kitchen table.

“Thanks for bringing it in.” Steve reached for an envelope addressed to him. “Who delivered it today? Was it Michelle or Rodney?”

“Michelle.” Tony concurred.

“Oh, nice.” Steve smiled. “I like her. She’s always friendly to me.”

“Yeah. Nice girl. Nice name too.” Tony put the plan into action. “That was the name of the first girl I ever kissed.”

“I remember my first kiss.” Steve recalled. “It was at a school dance when I was in high school. I bought her a milkshake after and she never spoke to me again.”

“What about you, Peter?” Natasha asked causally. “Have you had your first kiss?”

“Um, yeah.” Peter chuckled like it was obvious.

“With who?” Steve asked curiously, and the rest of the team leaned in to hear the answer.

“Um, my girlfriend.” Peter flushed a deep red as he avoided eye contact with the group. Everyone collectively let out a gasp at the news, making Peter flush even deeper. He looked up to a table full of dropped jaws and wide eyes and felt his ears turn red.

“Isn’t it neat?” Tony tried to take the attention off Peter. “The innocence of young love.”

“Yeah. Innocence.” Sam narrowed his eyes at Peter as the hickey on his neck suddenly made sense.

“When can we meet her?” Nat asked, and everyone nodded softly. Peter looked around in surprise, not having expected everyone to care as much as they did.

“You want to meet her?” He asked with a small smile.

“Of course.” Tony shrugged. “You’re on our team and if she’s your girlfriend-“

“She’s on our team too.” Sam concluded with a gentle nod. Everyone nodded in agreement, making Peters heart swell in appreciation.

“She was gonna come over so I could swing her around the city.” Peter told them. “I could ask her to come up and say hello.”

“I think you should.” Natasha encouraged. Peters lips twitched into a smile as he pulled out his phone to tell you to come up. Within a few minutes, you were coming up the elevator and Peters heart was pounding in his chest. He met you at the elevator and escorted you to the rest of the Avengers, his hand holding yours.

“Hi.” You smiled shyly as you met the team. “It’s nice to meet all of you. I’m Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Steve said politely. “I’m-“

“Steve, right?” You smiled a little. “Um, Peter talks about you guys all the time. You’re also a little famous.” You chuckled, and everyone laughed as well, breaking the ice.

“Yeah, I guess we are.” Steve smiled back at you. “So you’re the girlfriend? I can’t say Peter has told us that much about you.”

Peter looked at you anxiously, hoping you wouldn’t take that the wrong way.

“It’s okay.” You laughed and rubbed his shoulder. “We agreed to keep it on the down low. Plus, I doubt there’s anything about me that could impress the Avengers.”

“That’s not true.” Peter cut in as he twirled your hair around his finger. “You’re very impressive.”

“Tell us more.” Nat smiled as she leaned on her hand. Everyone watched you and Peters display of affection with childlike wonder, a collective peace settling in the room as they watched the baby of the team experience happiness.

“Y/n volunteers as a candy striper at the children’s hospital a few blocks from here. When she’s not with me, she’s there.” Peter bragged about you. “And she’s a lifeguard in the summers, CPR certified, valedictorian of her class, organ donor-“

“These are not impressive things.” You laughed as you cut him off.

“Yes they are.” Peter insisted. “She can make the worlds best brownies, her ponytails are always perfect on the first try, she can parallel park, she-“

“She sounds amazing.” Tony cut him off as he smiled at you. “And we’re very happy to finally meet her.”

“I just can’t believe the guy who watches Dance Moms in the living room with no shame actually has a girlfriend.” Sam snorted. “And a normal one too.”

“Why is it so surprising?” You wondered as you leaned on Peter arm.

“Because he’s so innocent.” Sam shrugged. “I doubted he ever even held a girls hand.”

“Wait, you thought Peter was innocent?” You laughed abruptly. “He literally webbed me to the headboard last night and-“

“Ah ah ah.” Peter quickly cut you off. “Some things are better left unsaid.”

“I think she should say them.” Bucky chuckled as he sipped his coffee.

“One time, he used his-“

“Well, Y/n and I really need to get going.” Peter cut you off and quickly ushered you to the door. “We won’t be out late.”

“It was nice meeting you all.” You called as Peter pulled you out the door.

“Nice meeting you too.” Tony yelled back. He and the team exchanged knowing looks, a collective happiness for Peter settling among them.

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

Text

3x04: Sin City

Then:

Dean killed Azazel

Now:

A nun wanders an empty church, replacing hymnals. The priest finds her and offers to walk her to her car. They both find a parishioner in the balcony who gets their attention by announcing that “God’s not with us.” He then shoots himself in the head. Ooof.

While Dean and Bobby work on the Colt, Sam informs them that he’s found sightings of demonic omens. Bobby stays behind to figure out how the Colt works while Dean and Sam take off for Ohio and the new case.

Interviewing the priest, the brothers learn that things changed in the town about two months prior --the same time they opened the devil’s gate.

The brothers then head to their motel room, where Dean runs into an old hunter friend, Richie. They banter and then they all talk shop. Whatever’s happening, doesn’t make sense. (Sidenote: Dean’s pumped that the room has Magic Fingers. Yay, bby) Dean asks about anyone in town whose whole personality has changed. Richie answers, “There’s Trotter.” He’ll be at his bar in a couple hours.

The town is anything but a boarded up factory town. It’s got coeds as far as the eye can see, and Dean’s ready to do some research. Trotter’s Bar is the epicenter of debauchery. They find the priest there.

Sam wonders what the padre is doing there. He goes where the flock is.

Dean then gets to flirt mildly with the bartender and fun fact: He likes Hurricanes. I feel like this is one part of Dean’s personality not explored in later seasons. Let the boy drink his fruity drinks, 202K!

Before anyone can react, a man walks in and shoots another man dead.

Dean tackles the assailant before he can off himself. Sam throws holy water on him, but he’s not possessed. The man admits that the victim slept with his wife. (Sam sees Dana Scully’s dad from across the bar. Man, things are REALLY WEIRD here.) (Natasha: Nooo he’s the general from Stargate!)

The cops later take the man away and tell Sam and Dean that the paper will be there shortly to take their pictures.

That’s the brothers’ cue to leave. Dean wonders where Richie is before they take off.

Richie is with the bartender. She’s taken him to her parent’s country estate. It’s secluded and has toys. Just when things are getting interesting for poor Richie, the bartender reveals she’s really a demon, and she knows he’s a hunter. WHERPS. He tries attacking, but she snaps his neck in two seconds flat. Richie!

Later at the bar, Dean forgoes eating his burger to track down the missing Richie. Sam decides to follow Trotter.

Bobby, meanwhile, is getting the Colt back into fighting shape. Ruby shows up and taunts him to test out the Colt. He does. The aim is true but the bullets aren’t right. She offers to help him with the gun.

The brothers practice seriously dangerous cell phone usage (Seriously Sammy? You didn’t put it on silent? Seriously Dean? You’re driving while not hands free? UGH.)

Dean’s back at the bar and a prostitute approaches him for a discounted good time. Dean doesn’t pay. (Or is that Sam? IDK, neither of them have to pay. Have you seen them!?) The bartender is back at work and saw the whole thing. It doesn’t deter her that Dean struck out with a prostitute and they head out for fun times elsewhere.

Sam watches Dana Scully’s dad leave his office and heads in himself to investigate. Dana Scully’s Dad Trotter appears again and there’s a slight tussle before Sam realizes that he’s also not a demon. Sam awkwardly realizes his mistake and makes his exit. Sweet dumb boy.

Dean, meanwhile, is heading down the same path as his dead buddy Richie. Dean’s no dummy though and sets up a devil’s trap. He pulls out his Latin book to exorcise her back to Hell. He doesn’t have it memorized yet and she starts up a demon wind machine. He loses the pages AND the basement door caves in. Worst Date Ever.

Later, Dean explores his new prison to the amusement of the demon trapped with him. She mocks him openly for not having an exorcism memorized.

The demon taunts Dean expertly. Dean Bean’s offended at being labeled the dumb one and I am OFFENDED on his behalf! They wait to see whose rescue is going to arrive first - Dean’s or hers.

Sam frets at the bar over his missing brother, and bribes the bartender for his whereabouts.

Meanwhile, Dean and the demon’s snarkfest marathon continues. She tells him that she didn’t even have to engage in mystical hijinks to send people in town into an evil tailspin. All she had to do was drop a few suggestions about the profit of vice to Trotter and humans took care of the rest. She describes humans as weak and corrupt.

For Constantly Weak for Dean Winchester and SYMBOLISM Science:

Sam heads inside her (other) house and finds sulfur. The game is afoot!

Meanwhile, Dean and the demon enjoy a little philosophical exchange. “Do you believe in God, Dean?” she asks him while I chew my own arm off. She sets up the apocalyptic battle from the demon perspective. Humans have wrought carnage on their world, so it’s the demons’ turn to “do it right this time.”

Sam’s back at the bar again, calling Bobby to report that he can’t find Dean. I guess the game is...not so afoot after all. The bartender offers him booze before downing a shot himself and, frustrated with the townsfolk, Sam zeroes in on the priest who’s still hanging out in the bar.

Demon Casey tells Dean that she’s faithful to Lucifer, light-bringer and the one who will raise demons up. She’s a believer. Dean oh-so-casually asks what Hell is like and the BRAVADO masking the FEAR! Jensen Ackles, your face hurts me sometimes.

For HURTSSSSS MEEE Science:

She sees right through him. “It’s a pit of despair,” she tells him frankly. “Why do you think we want to come here?”

Sam, meanwhile, is involved in a terribly awkward discussion with the priest at the bar. He’s worried about his brother and thinks he might be…..in trouble. The priest offers to bring Sam to Casey. His eyes turn black as he turns away from Sam.

The demon and Dean have settled into a friendly heart to heart at this point. She tells him that she actually likes him and thinks he did something good when he sold his soul to save Sam.

Dean tries to laugh off her real talk. He thinks it’s freeing to be damned - he can live his life any way he wants now. He’s totally not scared at all. Not at all!!!

The demon riding the priest interrogates Sam, asking him about his aspirations for the future. Yeah! Why aren’t ya in college, Sam!

Dean and Demon Casey continue to bond, and the scene takes the tone of a couple kids just chilling in the basement talking about life. Which is...actually sort of accurate.

Casey tells Dean that Yellow Eyes, a.k.a. Azazel, had a plan to bring the minions of Hell to Earth, but Dean killing him put a significant wrench in those plans. She tells him that Sam was supposed to lead the demon army. Uh. Wherps. Instead of Sam, there’s a power vacuum in Hell. Demons everywhere are fighting for the crown. “For the record,” she tells him, “I was ready to follow Sam.” And damn, if I don’t get the feeling that Dean likes her a little better because of that.

Sam and his demon priest arrive. Dean issues a warning to Sam, but Sammy doesn’t have to worry because Bobby shows up with the Colt! Bobby hands off the gun to Sam, Ruby smirking in the background. The priest breaks into the basement and smashes through the devil’s trap holding Demon Casey in. They kiss while Dean looks on in surprise.

Surprise, Dean! They’ve been lovers for centuries! Casey begs the demon priest for Dean’s life and it gives just enough delay for Sam to shoot the priest with the Colt. The priest flashes out. Dean tries to stop Sam from killing Demon Casey but Sam shoots. She flashes out as well. Remember, kids, there’s no room for love on Supernatural unless it’s DOOMED LOVE.

The next morning, Dean tries to figure out what they actually won from this hunt. There are two demons dead and one alive - and very bad - human. “Maybe these people wanna destroy themselves. Maybe it is a losing battle,” Dean opines to Bobby. He notes that Sam’s dispatch of both demons was “cold” and brings up Azazel’s words to him: When Sam came back, he might have come back different. They both agree (halfheartedly) that Sam is doing FINE and is definitely not at all concerning.

Sam and Ruby meet up in a hotel room. Sam’s suffering regrets and calls Ruby a “cold bitch.” She takes issue with this assessment, particularly since she’s saved his life a few times. I mean, knowing about Ruby aside, I fully agree here. Fun fact! The word “bitch” was used four times in this episode! Ruby continues to dangle the hope that she might be able to help save Dean from his deal. Sam levels the Colt at her.

Sam threatens to kill her, but it’s just empty words. Ruby warns him that the fight ahead won’t be easy, but she’ll be there by his side. A little “fallen angel” on his shoulder. (Shakes my head at this goddamn show.)

Where Everybody Knows Your Quotes:

Toys trump oils

A demon with a heart. Wow

You don't get it. All you got to do is nudge humans in the right direction

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #ruby #spn 3x04 #sin city #supernatural season 2

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alikat7 · 3 years

Text

We Come Together As We Fall Apart

Deviation from canon - this takes place after Civil War and Bucky stays with Team Cap instead of going into cyro.

SUMMARY: Bucky wasn’t like any other man. He didn’t bother stealing her heart before claiming her soul.

Wanda must rectify her past wrong, no matter how much it takes a toll on her. Bucky begins to hope there is a future for him. It’s risky but he always liked red heads.

Other characters and one fandom will be added in the future. The rating might go up.

Chapter 5

Wanda quickly became the person Bucky looked forward to seeing every morning and thought of as he fell asleep. He’d been training her to fight with knives during the day and the two of them had even attempted working together like she did with Steve and Natasha where she lifted him higher than he could jump. Steve kept interfering with that. Bucky suspected his friend didn’t want Wanda to be helping Bucky when he needed her to help him out. Of course, she did it anyway when Steve left. She actually caught on quickly with the knives. Sometimes, she’d accidentally use her powers instead of her hands, then would realize it and attempt to undo it, throwing herself off completely. She was so hard on herself when she messed up, so he rarely said anything. Once, she accidentally cut him, but he didn’t care. He was just happy spending the time with her. Wanda, of course, fussed over him.

The last thing he wanted was to be so consumed by her. But he watched her when she wasn’t with him. He loved her smile and her laugh. And she had this adorable nose scrunch that always made him smile. Despite being very close to all the others, she still kept quiet more than the rest of them. He’d see her green eyes scanning the faces and body language of everyone, listening to their stories, and she engaged without giving up much of her own thoughts. Sometimes she appeared to be daydreaming, twisting her hair around her finger or biting her lip, and he wondered what she thought of. She seemed more internal like Bucky had become most of the time. But when she first saw him after being apart, her eyes lit up, and she’d give him a smile that she couldn’t hide, before catching herself if amongst the others. Bucky smiled more and more each day too.

Although they always managed to stop at kissing, the nights after Steve went inside grew more passionate and loving, rather than just affectionate. She let him hold her, not even caring about the vibranium arm. They’d talk and laugh while she wrapped her arm around his chest and snuggled into his side or while he lay with his head in her lap, while she ran her fingers through his hair. He gained so much peace just from the simpleness of these times. He could feel it slowly healing him, just like being around Steve, in a different way. Sometimes, he felt like the same man he’d been before the war. With Wanda, he almost forgot the Winter Soldier, unless she was probing his mind looking for the bastard. When she called him James, he didn’t mind because she always said it during the most intimate times. And her smell, which she claimed was only her shampoo and some fruity shower gel, always lingered on his clothing and bedding. Whether he wanted it or not, she already completely consumed him, he suspected. But he consumed her as well. Being addicted to someone who brought joy into his life after all these decades seemed like something he could easily live with.

READ AT AO3 or FF.net

#Scarlet Witch #Wanda Maximoff #Bucky Barnes #Winter Soldier #Winter Witch #WinterWitch #Marvel #MCU #WandaVision #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes Fic #Bucky x Wanda #Marvel Fanfic #Marvel Fanfiction #We Come Together As We Fall Apart #my fic

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the-omni-princess · 4 years

Text

All Yours

Author: @the-omni-princess

Summary: It’s simple really. You have a secret, and there’s an infamous Stark party. What could go wrong?

Prompt: Hyacinth – Jealousy / constancy of love, fertility

Word Count: 1.7K

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!reader

Warnings: fluff, alcohol, surprises

A/N:

Slowly making my way through all my writing challenges lol

This is for @writingsoftheloser ’s #vi1.5kmeaningschallenge !!!!

[My Masterlist]

----

Dressed to the nines, dripping in jewels, and with a dress with way too many slits in it to still be considered a dress, you felt a bit self-conscious while walking into the Stark Party alone. Your hair was braided back, with small white chrysanthemum flowers tucked into the weaved hair. The slits in the dress showed off your glowing skin, and if you turned too fast, someone could catch a glimpse of the navy colored lace corset and panties you were wearing underneath – a gift from Natasha, she deemed this lace pair as the ‘dick me down lingerie’ – yet despite all this, you pushed past the burning edges of self-doubt creeping in, in favor of tilting your chin up higher and walking with confidence.

What was this party celebrating again? Honestly, you couldn’t be sure. All you knew was that most of the team was off-site for the past month, holed up in the Amazonian Jungle, with absolutely no contact, and that this party was made too far in advance to cancel. Both you and Natasha had stayed behind since the mission required more brute force, and well because Natasha had a broken wrist.

Despite the wrist brace, Natasha still looked stunning in a tightfitting red dress. You both sipped on your martinis, bored after having smiled and waved to every dignitary in the room. The mission was supposed to be over a week ago, which had you antsy and fitted with nervous. Ever the spy, Natasha noticed. “Babe, calm down. They’ll be absolutely fine.”

Finishing up your virgin martini and setting the glass down on the bar, you nodded. “I know, I’m just worried. You know how these missions go, a few bullet wounds aren’t enough to make them go home, especially Bucky and Steve.”

She shrugged, “Bucky will be absolutely fine with Steve watching over him-“

“Oh, we both know Steve’s more likely to be shot.”

“Not helping, y/n/n,” The redhead rolled her eyes, finishing up her own drink before waving down the bartender. “Either way, forget boys, how’s the new kitten doing?”

“Alpine? Oh, that cutie’s fine. Always nosy, pushing stuff off counters, but other than that she’s a little angel. Clearly, I’m not her favorite parent, but she has to live with me so,” you shrugged.

Natasha smirked, taking in your fruity cocktail as she started sipping her own. “Is that the new drink Wanda was going on about?”

Knowingly, you took a sip, letting the cherry and mango flavors sit on your tongue. “Yeah, but get your own,” you glared at her. She grinned wickedly, and you realized your plan was slowly going down the drain. “Nat, don’t even think about it,” you warned.

The former assassin was much too quick for you, grabbing your drink and taking a sip before you could protest. Her face soured, before giving you the drink back. “Flavor’s not bad, but a virgin cocktail? Who are you and what have you done to my favorite techie?”

You couldn’t hold back your giggles as you finished your drink. “I’m cutting back on alcohol.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll believe that’s the reason,” she gave you a look, making your guts flip. She couldn’t possibly have known, hell, you made this plan only a few weeks ago. Nat was too smart for your own good.

As you thought of a coverup, a voice interrupted your conversation. “Excuse me, Bartender? Whiskey on the rocks for me, and two cocktails for the ladies.” A man had appeared beside you, Natasha on the opposite side of you, looking just as repulsed as you.

“No thanks,” you pushed the new cocktail to Nat. “I’m tapped out.” You gave the man your best ‘please leave me alone I’m only being polite, but I’ll punch you’ face. Nat wisely didn’t mention your lack of interest in the free drink, something you would usually partake in.

“Come on, loosen up a bit. It’s only a drink,” the man said, most likely thinking that was a good way to ‘charm’ you. Ha, not likely.

“And I declined,” you snarled, quickly losing patience.

“I’m only trying to be nice-“ The man tried to reach for your wrist

“And the lady said no. Get lost,” a new voice appeared, a metal hand latching onto the arm that tried to grab you. He shoved the man away, rather roughly, but you truly did not mind that at all. Bucky placed himself between you and the man, a scowl on his face as the man walked off grumbling, his metaphoric tail between his legs.

“You’re home early,” you tried, nonchalantly, Nat rolling her eyes beside you. “And I had that.”

“Just got back,” Bucky turned towards you, softening as he took in what you were wearing. He himself was in a leather jacket and black jeans, a small cut on his forehead, but other than that he looked perfectly fine. “Couldn’t wait to see ya, baby,” he grinned, hands coming to rest on your hips as he pulled you closer. The petname made your spine tingle, but the fact was he couldn’t possibly have known either, so you stayed silent. Out of the corner of your eyes you noticed Natasha most definitely giving you a look. Well, that took longer than you thought it would. “And I get here, only to have my best girl being hit on by some rookie agent.” His tone made you look back up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Was someone jealous?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe a little,” he conceded, shooting you a goofy smile. “Can’t help it. I missed you,” he tilted your head up, smiling as he captured your lips in his. Soft, and gentle, with an underlining power and authority and dominance. God, you missed him more than you care to admit, but that might just be the hormones talking.

You gently pulled away, “I missed you too.”

He tugged on your hands, leading you to the dance floor, drink and Natasha forgotten. You made a mental note to apologize to her in the morning. Bucky pulled you closer, gently swinging the two of you back and forth to the music.

Quiet, at peace. It took a few songs before you were ready to break the magic. By then, the only people remaining were the rest of your found family. Tony, Steve, Bruce, and Clint were all on the sofas, nursing drinks while making jokes about the mission, which must have gone well. Natasha and Wanda were standing by the bar, giving you little funny looks. Oh, they most definitely figured you out. Sam was beside Maria, flirting, and currently striking out, even though Maria had already agreed to a date next week with him. Thor and Vision were both in towards the kitchen, figuring out the new appliance you had installed while they were gone. It felt warm and fuzzy. Like everything right had finally happened in your life.

Home. It felt like home.

“Bucky,” you murmured, gently pulling your head up to look at him.

“Yes, Fiancé mine?” He grumbled, softly pulling you back against him, making you giggle.

“I have some news I wanted to share with you and the team.” That most certainly got his attention.

He raised an eyebrow, pulling away from you. “Should I be concerned?”

You shrugged, “Probably,” you admitted with a teasing smile.

He chuckled, “Well let’s tell them.”

You shook your head, “This is me telling you as well, go sit, I’ll be right back.” You pulled away, rushing back to your room to grab what you needed.

When you got back, the entire team was surrounding the sofas and chairs in the main living area, Bucky sitting beside Steve with a space on his other side for you. You stood in front of them and took a deep breath. “So… Did anyone notice the new flowers in the kitchen?” you started.

Multiple heads turned to glance at them. “Blue and Pink Hyacinths?” Wanda supplied, knowing your small obsession with flowers.

“Yep. Does anyone know what they mean?” Another game of yours. Even the white chrysanthemums in your hair had the meaning of loyal love and truth. Every flower had a meaning, and you loved using them for your own games.

“Oh! I know!” Steve looked excited, he usually couldn’t remember which flowers meant what, but always admired the ones you planted in your garden upstairs, usually helping you if Bucky was on a mission. “They mean jealousy or constancy of love!” He grinned, making you smile.

“Yep! But there’s one more meaning.” You whispered, handing Bucky the small envelope that had been burning a hole in your hands since you picked it up.

He gave you a confused look but opened it, nonetheless, completely trusting in you. “What’s this?” He murmured, looking at the small grainy photo.

“It also means fertility,” you supplied, waiting for who would connect it first.

It was clear by the high pitch in her voice, Natasha put all the clues together first. “You’re pregnant! That’s why you weren’t drinking alcohol!” You simply nodded, gauging Bucky’s reaction.

His eyes widened, eyes shooting from you to the picture and back and back again. “We-… we’re having a kid?” He mumbled, slightly confused and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Yeah-“ your voice cracked, and his eyes locked onto yours at the sound, taking in both of your teary-eyed looks. “We’re having a kid, Bucky,” you finished.

He leaped forward, dropping the photo as he pulled you into a tight hug, laughing as the two of you cried and smiled. “We’re having a kid!” He couldn’t stop the goofy smile that lit up his features as you clung to each other. The rest of the team offered congratulations, smiling as Tony making sex jokes much to Steve’s annoyance. Bucky ignored him, holding you closer, smiling as you kissed and stayed attached to him. “I’m going to be a dad…” he murmured.

You smiled, nodding, “The best dad in the world,” you ran your hand through his shorter hair, burying yourself in his arms. “We’re going to start our own family.”

Home. Family. That’s where you were.

---

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kashimos-hajime · 5 years

Text

hour of separation | s.r.

Summary: And he hangs up with a final goodbye. He hopes he never has to see you again.

WARNINGS: blood, guns, drinking, implied sexy times, fluff, angst, some callbacks and stuff so that’s fun :^) swearing Pairing: Nomad!Steve x fem!Reader Word Count: 8.1k

A/N: for @softhairbarnes and her I Love You 3000 challenge. my theme was Secret Love. i fulfilled the prompt in a way, so i hope you can see it that way, too.

Steve meets you in some backwater bar on the border of Vermont and Québec. You’re knocking back tequila shots, he’s stopped after driving thirteen hours from the North back down, and he’s aching for something to get his hands on.

“You got a problem?” he asks not unkindly because he’s watched the bartender pour you what he counts as your fifth shot since he’s sat down at the counter, and you smile. You’ve got a pretty smile, full of dangerous intentions, and Steve, who is tired, bloody, and bruised, smiles back.

“Not one you can’t fix.” You shrug, tipping another shot back and exposing that throat of yours that he can nearly taste. You’ve got a black long-sleeve thing on that cuts across, bares your collarbones and brings out the spark in your eyes when you catch him staring.

“What’s your name, kid?” Because you’re young, way younger than he thought when he first decided to sit beside you, and the shady bar lights drench you in warm, synthetic yellow as you shrug and tell him.

“But I didn’t expect Captain America to walk in here, so I don’t look my best,” you murmur, and your breath ghosts across his lips when you turn to look at him. He can taste it, the alcohol that nearly stings his tongue, and you. You taste like warm cinnamon, and something sharp, too, that bites at the roof of his mouth.

“Steve,” he replies. “Not Captain America.” And he smiles into your mouth as you crush his body with yours.

“How’d you get these bruises?” you ask, sheets twisted around your body all messily, and he glances down at you with half a smile. His arm around you, he strokes the bare skin of your shoulder as your fingers dance over his ribs.

“Comes with the job.” Your fingers drag over his skin, feather-soft and nearly ticklish, and his lips find your temple, squeezing you closer. You’re so warm against him, soft and pliable, and you dust his bearded jaw and neck with kisses, palm sliding across his chest to grab at his shoulder. Your leg splayed across his waist, you nuzzle into his collarbone.

“You have anywhere to be?” you murmur sometime later, when the sun’s drifting through the blinds of the cheap-ass motel they’d stumbled into. Still naked, Steve can’t bring himself to move away from you. Not when you’ve melted against him, swollen lips kissing him every now and then. “Avenging, and all that?”

“No. Finished Avenging for now, kid.” He sighs as you hold onto him, nothing but heat and sweat and the sheets that just barely contain you. “Where do you live? I can take you back when you go.”

“I don’t live anywhere,” you say, voice deep in your chest. He can feel it as your words whisper against his throat, and his hand on your shoulder slides to your back, down to your hip. “I can go wherever you go, Rogers.”

“Just like that?” he muses aloud. You raise your head, your hair a gorgeous mess atop your head as you smile lazily, and Steve thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You press a kiss against his mouth, another gust of cinnamon pushing into his mouth and you roll onto him, fingers on a large purple mark on his ribs. His mouth opens beneath yours in a soft moan as your legs bracket his hips. Sitting up triumphantly, you rake the hair out of your eyes, and smile.

“Just like that.”

You’re a sharp thing, with calluses and scars and a smile full of secrets.

The first one makes Sam blow up in your face.

“So, we’re just gonna let kid of the guy who tried to have all of us killed walk in here?” His voice is too loud for the quinjet and you jut your chin out defiantly. Steve, arms crossed, stands and lets you soak it in. He knows you can take it by how the smile never slides from your face.

“I’m not my father. I’m on the run for a reason.”

“Yeah, right. They start ‘em off young in H.Y.D.R.A., don’t they? And I bet Alexander Pierce made sure his kid knew all about what he did—”

“Sam.” Natasha’s voice cuts across the heat like a freezing wind, and Sam backs off immediately, eyes flickering to the woman. “Steve, we can’t just pick someone up and go. It’s hard enough as it is with the four of us.”

“I can pull my own weight,” you say before Steve can respond, and his lips press together in a soft smile when you drop your hand from the red star inked into your bicep. Your hands hang loosely at your sides, and Steve pushes off the quinjet bench. Wanda tilts her head curiously, and he knows she’s reading your mind. “I was taught, y’know, to pull my own weight.”

“Nat?” Steve asks quietly and the blonde looks to him, a sigh spilling from her lips. One. “Sam?”

“Fine. But I got my eye on you,” he mutters and you shrug, your smile growing. Two.

“I like her,” Wanda announces, tilting her head up at Steve. Her eyes glitter with specks of red and you turn to her, eyebrows arched. “She is honest.”

“Yeah?” Steve cocks his head and meets your eyes, and the two of you share this smile that he can’t quite place the meaning of. Three.

The second one makes Wanda laugh.

You’re good at hustling, an innocent little thing in the dingy lights of the pub as the other four scrape by.

Your beer is perched precariously on the edge of the pool table as you lean over, squinting an eye. Steve watches from a distance at the bar, Natasha much closer at a table nearby, as you stick out your tongue and stand back up again, pouting.

“Show me how to do it again?” you ask sweetly to the guy standing way too close to you, and Steve turns his burning gaze to the dark beer. Wanda plucks a fry from the basket they share as Sam brings back a cute little pink drink for their resident Sokovian. Steve smiles at the bright orange umbrella balancing in the crushed ice.

“She’s being useful,” Sam comments, sipping on his mojito, and Steve turns to look at you again. Your mouth is curled into a laugh as you lean over, cue stick sliding between your fingers.

“Did you just admit you were wrong about her?” Wanda points out cheekily, and the man rolls his eyes. “She is very good, Steve.” Even from far away, cinnamon lingers around him, and the super soldier blinks.

“You like her a lot, huh?” he asks, eyes not drifting from your form as you fire the cue ball with deadly accuracy, landing two at once. Only the eight ball remains, and you barely give it a glance before it’s in the bag. Steve watches as the guys let out a chorus of groans, bills tossed onto the lit table and you scoop it up, counting.

Wanda chuckles into her fruity little drink, fingers twisting the umbrella between black-painted nails as she shrugs. You come over then, half-empty beer in your hand and a wad of bills stuffed in your pocket.

“Hey.” Your cheeks are flushed, a gentle sheen of sweat covering your skin, and Steve smiles as you ruffle his too-long hair. “I got two-fifty. How long are we staying?”

“Not too long.” Steve’s heart skips a beat when you flash him a wide smile. “Go.” You nod, turn around and prance farther down the bar where the guy you’d sweet-talked is ordering refills. Steve knocks back the rest of his beer and clears his throat. “I’ma head to the bathroom. Keep an eye out.” “‘Course.” Sam gives a nod, and Wanda can barely contain her smile as she waves him farewell. Steve doesn’t give it another moment’s thought because the second he’s heading for the bathroom, he sees you leaning against the guy as he whispers something undeniably stupid.

Whatever. He shakes away the little nagging pest biting at his ankles.

The third secret makes Natasha sigh in relief.

There’s an ambush in Bogotá, and gunfire leaves holes for bright light to stream into their dark hideout. A bullet tags Wanda in the shoulder, and Natasha presses her palm to the girl’s shoulder as Steve and Sam take them out from above. Blood seeps out of the Sokovian’s shirt and Steve scoops her up as Sam covers their six.

Running back to the quinjet, Natasha climbs onboard to see you sitting on the bench, the first aid kit cracked open beside you. You snap on a pair of latex gloves and stand immediately upon seeing the four.

“Bring her here.” Wanda groans softly, eyes squeezing tight as Steve sets her down and you shoo them away, snipping open her shirt. Your eyes narrowed, you barely spare any of them a glance as you set to work fixing the wound. “Natasha, come here.”

She crouches beside you and Steve watches you work, quick, nimble, already five steps ahead, and the corner of his mouth quirks up.

“You a doctor?”

“I have a MD-PhD,” you reply, gloved fingers inspecting the wound carefully. Natasha’s eyes widen, and she lets out a sigh as she holds onto Wanda’s knee in comfort. You press gauze against the wound as your other hand digs through the first aid kit. “Shit always happens in Bogotá. Honestly.”

“Yeah, Pierce mentioned something about that,” Steve mutters and you send him a look. “Fury rescued you from the embassy.” You press your lips together, smirking.

“That was my older sister, but yeah, he did. I don’t know if I should be insulted or not that you thought I was that old.”

“Well, Pierce was a wrinkly old man who did get up to illegal activities.” Steve shrugs and you roll your eyes. Your fingers work on their own as you merely supervise what has to be muscle memory. “Wouldn’t put it past him with biotech implants or something.”

“I was his kid. He may have been a terrible person, but he wasn’t a terrible father.” Your eyes linger for a moment, something dark flickering in your irises before you turn back to your work, and Steve lowers his head, swallowing. Natasha glances between the two of you but doesn’t mutter anything except small comforts to the bleeding girl.

“It’s gonna be okay, Maximoff.”

“Not a through-and-through, alright.” You pull out something that looks a lot like tweezers. “Nat, hold the gauze here. Okay, great. Wanda, can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. We’re gonna dig a bullet out of you, okay?” Your eyes dart up to meet the girl’s, who’s barely keeping them open and you turn to Steve. “Hold her hand. Keep her awake. She’s gonna need something to squeeze down on.”

“This… this does not sound fun,” Wanda whispers as Steve sits down beside her. He takes her hand in his and immediately, her fingers squeeze his palm tightly. Your eyes flicker across his face, and for a moment, your gazes meet and Steve nods, swallowing to wet his dry throat. Your hair is pulled tightly away from your face, your face an absolute effigy of concentration as you lower your gaze again to the pulsing wound. “It’s not going to be. No knockout drugs this time.”

There is no fourth secret. That is, if you don’t count all the different ways you know that make him tick.

That is, there is no fourth secret. Not one that Steve wants to admit to himself.

You throw knives with Natasha, and practice firing guns with Sam. You share recipes with Wanda and help Steve map out missions.

You’re the one who finds them an abandoned place they make into a base with stolen punching bags and yoga mats, a swimming pool out back. It’s somewhere in the outskirts of Zermatt, between two mountains and half-inside a cave, and Steve likes it more than he’d admit.

Steve likes a lot of things the team won’t ever make him admit.

They don’t know it, ‘cause this Steve Rogers knows how to keep a fucking secret, and he runs himself ragged hiding you around, sneaking you out of his room when Natasha stays up late boxing or Sam’s watching some old movie on the telly you snagged. And you go with it because you like the secret, this little thing that’s just you and Steve’s, and no one else’s.

“Why can’t I go out?” you ask teasingly, fingers tangled in his hair, arm strong around his neck, and he sighs with his nose pressed against your cheek, arms laced around you. You’re cocooned by all of Steve and the chill of the mountain snow as a radiator rattles in the room. “Always keeping me in the quinjet. Now, it’s here, and hell, I like here more with you in it.”

“‘Cause you think I don’t know people are trying to find you?” he asks, finger running circles on your stomach and he burns touching you, but damn if it’s the most delicious death he could ask for. You glance up at the steel ceiling and he sighs as he wraps an arm around your chest, hand planting on the tattoo on your bicep. “You were running’ when I found you.” You look at him, lips pressed together all childlike and he sighs. Your scent swaths him, pulls him in, and your hand runs through his beard, nails scratching skin lightly.

“Yeah, but I’m not running now,” you whisper, forehead knocking against his. You lift your chin, your lips brushing against the spot between his eyebrows and Steve’s eyes close as your hand flattens against his cheek. You hold him to your chest as his arms tighten around you. Ironwire muscle flexes beneath his palms.

“We’ll always be runnin’, kid,” he whispers, hot and heavy, and you sigh. Your lips press against his hair, hand stroking down the wavy brown curls. “At least until I can get you home.”

“Yeah?” you chuckle into your words and he raises his head, blue eyes blown at the sight of your face. You look ragged, with swollen lips and smokey eyes, hair tousled by his hand and god, does he want to kiss you and every-fucking-thing in the dictionary that involves you and him naked. “And where’s that?”

“I dunno.” His hand pulls back from your waist to cup your cheek, and his thumb brushes over your blooming purple cheek where Sam had gotten you two days ago in the ring. Steve’s fingers trail down your face, take hold of your chin, and his eyes rest on your parted lips. “Haven’t decided on that yet.”

“I don’t like it. She won’t be safe on a mission. H.Y.D.R.A. has eyes everywhere,” Natasha retorts, throwing her legs up on the dining table. Her chopped blonde hair swings around her jaw as she sucks on a lollipop at a ripe 6AM. Steve wrinkles his nose but doesn’t comment on it.

“I know, but none of us are safe outside. And, she’s always saying we coddle her too much. Come on, Natasha, let her live a little,” Steve replies. “She’s been running homebase since she got here.”

“Steve, you know people are looking for her.”

“She’ll be fine,” Sam replies, entering the room. He can guess what they’re talking about from a mile away. “If Steve’s there, she’ll be safe.” He throws clothes into his duffel bag that he drops on the dining table, sweats, balled socks, and tank tops filling it up, as you walk in, arms stretched above your head. Your earpiece is snug in your ear and your hair is tied away from your face as you walk past Natasha with a yawn. “Hey, girl.”

“Morning, Wilson.” You slump onto the couch, switching on the TV as you kick your feet up. Steve heads on over, collapsing beside you and you send him an easy smile. Your hair’s damp and you smell stronger of cinnamon than you did last night. He wants to just lean in, have a taste. You reach forward for the remote, flick through the channels, and the moment is gone. His eyes track you, though, and you know it. “How are you still packing for the trip? I told you like two nights ago that you were going to leave today for the supply run.”

“I leave things at the last minute, girl. You know me.” Sam zips up his bag, swings it onto his shoulder. “And Tulum, by the way? We still needa put someone on it, Steve.” The man sends the blond a knowing look before he goes, grabbing the keys for the hijacked jeep off the counter. “Peace out.” “See you in a few days, Sam,” Natasha calls out, swinging her legs off the table. She heads for the counter, opening the cabinet and grabbing a cup as you settle on some channel playing an animal documentary.

“I can handle Tulum,” Steve begins slowly, the gears turning in his head. When he looks at you, bundled up in one of Sam’s discarded hoodies and pajama pants folding over your feet, he can’t help but think of the girl he met at the bar who knows how long ago. Has it been a year, yet? It feels a hell of a lot longer.

“Alright.” Steve catches the edge on Natasha’s reply and he looks at her to see her glaring back at him.

“Sam could go with you,” you suggest, turning your head back to look at the both of them. “I could use a break from him.”

“Or you could.”

“Whaddya mean?” You tear your eyes off of an elephant rolling in the mud to meet Steve’s clear gaze. He half-smiles behind his beard, and his eyes crinkle in a way that causes a soft look to overcome your face. As the quiet draws on, your mouth drops open and you blink. “Me? You’re taking me out on a mission?”

“Yeah, kid. I am.” He thinks you might kiss him right then and there, blow your cover and the chance to head out on a nice summer vacation, just the two of you, but you simply bounce in your seat and reach over to hug him tight. He reciprocates it as platonically as he thinks he knows how, and draws back way too quick. “Excited?”

You show him just how excited you are later that night, between dinner and dessert.

“This is what I’ve been missing,” you sigh. The routine drugs bust had went on fine, and you’d been spectacular, flawless, and now the two of you lay on the beach near the motel you’re staying at, the white sand burning beneath your towel as you soak up the golden sun. Steve glances at you, so drop-dead gorgeous in that two-piece that he can barely keep his hands off of you. Your sunglasses perched on your nose, you smile against the faint wind. “Hell, I love my life with you guys, Rogers, but I’ve missed this.”

“You live somewhere hot, once?” he asks, hoping to add onto the list he knows about you. Wedged somewhere between pool player extraordinaire and your MD-PhD, the meaning of your tattoos inking up and down your arms, and the reason why you were running in the first place, he wants to know where you grew up.

“Mhm, yeah. L.A., actually, but it was a different kinda hot than here.” Your fingers cross on your stomach as you tilt your head back. Steve smiles, the sun burning into his back as he leans on his elbow. The giant crush on the ocean sends a wave of calm through him.

“You wanted to become an actress?”

You break into a tell-tale smile, and he smirks, leaning over to kiss your cheek. Your arms wrap around him and your sunglasses clash with his face as he rolls onto your towel. Your legs tangled up, you land on top of him and grin against his lips as he sucks a kiss onto your bottom lip.

“Maybe.” You pinch the arm of your sunglasses and tug them off, twisting them between your fingers. “I didn’t stay, though.”

“Clearly.” He noses your chin affectionately and you drag his abandoned towel towards yourself, flopping down beside him. Your fingers interlaced, you set your glasses back on as Steve raises his chin to the wind. It’s so quiet here, nice, peaceful. It smells fresh, and sunny, and bright. So unlike the battlefield of gun oil and sweat earlier. He blows out a sigh, content to just rest in the quiet for a while. “It’s nice being here, relaxing.” With you.

“Yeah.” You squeeze his hand. “You know, I trust you, Steve. I wouldn’t have gotten too mad if you kept me in there, y’know? ‘Cause I know someone could’ve found me if you didn’t find me first.” He turns to you, his free hand coming to trail up the tattoos littering your skin, and he presses a kiss to the red star inked into your bicep. You tense underneath his touch, and he strokes his kiss away. “Shit, I’m sorry.” It’s awful, not knowing what you’re apologizing for, and Steve’s lips press together as you turn your face away.

“It wasn’t your fault, kid. None of it was. You didn’t know,” he whispers lowly, and you look at him through the dark shades. He hooks a finger on the bridge, dragging your sunglasses off your face so he can see you clearly, and sighs, folding them and setting them near your interlocked hands. “It’s never gonna be your fault.”

“It’ll always be my fault,” you reply stubbornly, and he can hear your tears. Yet, your face is dry and Steve cups your face, eyebrows knitting together. “You think I don’t know what they would’ve done to me?” He takes you quick into his arms, pulls you onto him and rolls so he shields you from the sun. Your arms tight around his chest, you press your forehead against his chest. “I should’ve known about what he was doing. He was my dad—“

“Don’t think about that.” “They sure as hell were grooming me to take his place,” you continue, and Steve kisses your hairline, hand dragging over your back as he holds you tight. “They’d come for me if they knew I was here.” He pulls back, hand trailing over your neck to gently hold you away from his chest, and he swallows at the blankness in your eyes. “And they’d come for you, too.”

“We’d protect you,” he murmurs, brushing the hair away from your face, and you smile bleakly. “Hey, now. Come on. You sick of the sun?” His hand cups your face, and you lean into his palm as you nod. “Alright. Let’s head back to the room.” He sits up, grabbing the spare towel and you clear your throat as he glances back to check that you’re okay.

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

“Hey, kid, no.” His hand cusps your bicep, covering that awful star, and he kisses you softly, slowly, sweetly. He nearly loses his words when the taste of cinnamon floods his mouth. “Nothing to be sorry for, alright?” He kisses you between the eyes before standing, flapping the towel to beat out any dust. You stand, too, taking the other towel and doing the same. Stuffing the two into the beach bag, Steve slides it onto his shoulder and turns to you, hand outstretched. You take it and he finds your skin deathly cold. Squeezing some life back into you, he tugs you flush against him.

“I think it’s better if I stay inside from now on,” you mutter. Steve’s hand tightens on yours, and he nods. You’re a painted target walking around in the sunlight, and Steve takes out a towel, draping it around your shoulders before wrapping an arm around around you.

“If that’s what you want, kid,” he whispers into your ear, lips brushing your temple and your arm sneaks around his waist. Heat tingles along his skin and something snaps in his chest as he gazes down at you.

“It isn’t, but it’s better for the both of us.” You lean just barely on his shoulder, the smell of sea salt clinging onto the damp strands of your hair. “It’s safer that way.”

And so you stay inside. You run missions from homebase, crack jokes over the comms with Sam, and report back on what happens in town while the team’s away. And they’re away a lot.

Steve calls you because he just misses the sound of your voice, but he pretends it’s about weekly updates and has anyone seen you? A part of his mind wonders if you’re tired of his repetitive questions, but you never give any indication that you are. Your answers are always long and rambling, and he always feels that smile tug at his cheeks, the fire in his chest spreading down to his fingertips as you talk about how you’d spot a stray cat and wanted to take it back to homebase or about the new recipe you’d made up.

All of them are in Singapore without you in the heat of summer, a humid, buzzing island that has everyone restless. The nights are warm, and with Sam’s snores and the sound of Natasha and Wanda talking in the room next door, Steve can’t quite manage to catch the winks of sleep he so desperately wants. Even in nothing but boxers, sweat is slick against his back and he groans softly, pulling himself out of bed.

The room is drenched in black and Steve feels around for a shirt, shrugging it on. He doesn’t bother with the buttons. No one’s awake at this hour around here. He pulls over some shorts just in case, his phone in his pocket, stuffs his feet into his sneakers, and heads out. The walkway is lit with bright, burning lamps, and the walls are painted a pasty cream that’s scuffed with grey and black as he sucks in a wet breath.

Mosquitoes and flies buzz as a moth flaps past, and Steve sighs, feeling the air gloss over his cheek like honey. Descending down the steps, he heads out into the parking lot, glancing around. There are not a lot of cars parked, and the only thing he can see is the heat making shapes in the distance, so he leans against the cement half-wall, taking out his phone. He dials, waits for the line to click.

“Hey, Rogers.” Your voice comes out clearly over the speaker and he sighs, letting the sound of your voice wash over him. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just callin’ to see how your day’s been.”

“I went to town today,” you say and Steve smiles, crossing his feet at the ankles. “I bought some new books to read and I’m teaching myself German to pass the time.”

“Really? Sounds interesting,” he murmurs. A light is buzzing and flickering and Steve squints against the faded light. A bunch of flies are flitting around it, attracted to the little blinker. “I can help, y’know? Picked up a bit back in the War.”

“Really?” He hears you laugh, and then there’s a sharp pang of yearning. The stakeout has gone on for far too long, and he misses you much more than he thought he would. It’s different than when he knew he’d come back in three or four days. No, this has been two months, and just the sound of your laughter makes him breathless. “You can give me a few private lessons, then.”

“Guess so, kid.” Something clatters on your end and he frowns. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, nothing. I… I just knocked something over.” Something bleeds into your voice and he pushes off the half-wall. His shoes scuff against rough ground and he raises his head to the sky. The sky is midnight black, Aegean blue spilling into the stars as the sun rises to chase the moon, and an ugly knot ties in Steve’s throat. Chase.

“Kid, are you alright?”

“Of course.” You chuckle, like he’s silly to ever think that, and he exhales through his nose, hand shoved into his pocket. He paces up the length of the parking lot, shoe kicking a stray pebble. “Look, is there anything else you need?”

“No, but—”

“Great. I’m kinda busy back here.” You shuffle on the other end, and he closes his eyes, ears straining to decipher the static. Ice replaces the warm blood in his body as a deep voice pierces through the speaker. He hears your voice then, faint from your distance to the speaker as you hush whatever it is that made the sound. “Steve, look, I… I’ve gotta go. I… I’ll see you when you get back.” Your laughter replays in his head as you hang up, and his gaze drifts off to the asphalt. Your voice sounds hollow as he plays it back, and the knot tightens.

Steve keeps telling himself that he’d been imagining things as he walks back into the room and shuts the door with a soft click. His body numb and freezing, he clenches his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering. An uneasy tide of nausea swirls in his stomach and he swallows back acid.

“What’s up, man?” Sam whispers blearily, sitting up, and Steve just sits on his bed, pulling off his shoes and flinging his shirt off. Sinking into the hard mattress, Steve tosses his phone onto the nightstand and closes his eyes. His hands run roughly over his face and he takes a deep breath.

“Nothing, I… I went out for a walk. Can’t sleep,” Steve replies — lies. “Go back to sleep, Sam.”

“Alright.” The covers flap and Steve lets out a deep sigh, resting his head on his hands as he stares patterns into the ceiling. A current lances up and down his body, and the urge to punch something through a wall is nearly too much.

You don’t pick up any of his calls thereafter, and yet you still run comms.

It feels an awful like a break-up, but Steve knows you two were never dating dating in the first place, so he doesn’t know why the ache in his heart grows at the sound of your small talk with Natasha or Sam or Wanda, but never him.

No, not him.

“You alright, Steve?” Natasha asks, wiping the blood off her cheek from where a goon had died trying to swing at her when she’d been covering Wanda. “You’ve been in a bad mood these past couple of days.”

“No, I’m fine. Eager to get back to Zermatt is all,” he says, stuffing a bloody, dust-laden tee into his duffle bag.

“Eager to get back to her?” Nat asks, a small smile curling at the corners of her mouth, and Steve sends her a weary, fake smile.

“Yeah. She’s part of our team.” A hand squeezes his bicep, and his smile falters. Natasha’s eyes gaze at him earnestly, clear as ice and just as piercing. “What?”

“Nothing.” And the blonde turns away, a sack over her shoulder as she helps Wanda move her things back to the quinjet parked miles away. “I’ll see you on the jet.”

Homebase is empty, with just a card and wilting roses, and a stack of books you never got the chance to read. Natasha, Wanda, Sam, they scour every level, every room, for another hint of where you’re going, where you’ve gone.

Steve doesn’t even need to call out your name to know that you’ve disappeared.

I did it to keep you safe. You don’t know what they will do if they find out my connection to you. They’ll find you, and kill you, and I can’t let that happen. They won’t ever stop looking for me.

So I’m leaving, because this is the best thing I can do until you’re safe. Don’t look for me. I know you will.

I wish I could see you again, but it’s better if I don’t.

Steve reads the card before he goes to sleep every night.

He knocks his skull against the steel wall of his room, just imagining you. It’s been a month now, maybe more or maybe less. He can’t even remember how long it’s been since he’s last seen your smile, ran his fingers through your hair, and it feels like a knife has lodged itself in his ribs, twisting ever so slightly every time he reads it. He stares down at the black ink scribbled into thick card and your signature, the last he has of you and he wants to tear it apart.

“Steve!” His head snaps up, and his neck cracks at the sound of Sam’s voice. There’s three sharp knocks, and Sam’s shadow spills through the small slit under his door. “Steve, you need to see it.”

“What is it, Sam?” His voice scratches, tired, and he doesn’t even muster the strength to get up. He knows the other three talk about him, about you, but ever since you left, homebase has been so much emptier. There’s no echoing laughter, or shrieks from one of your prank wars with Sam, and Steve can only sleep, stuff his head beneath pillows to shut out your ghost haunting him.

“Look, man—” Sam crouches and slips something underneath— “It was mailed to us today.”

Steve gets up and the air around him moves like a wave, a rush of cold and wet and his knees buckle beneath him as he collapses. Grabbing the phone, he wipes at his face and blinks, clearing his throat.

“She’s somewhere we can’t get,” Sam whispers, and then his footsteps fade away, and Steve swallows back another bruise blooming in his throat, leaning against his door with a quivering breath. Legs bent, he opens the flip phone. The screen illuminates to reveal a single notification.

5 Voicemails.

Steve hits play.

“If you’re getting this, it means I’ve decided to leave. My time with you guys was… it really was the best time of my life, but even I can’t outrun my past. I need to face it, and I don’t want to live my whole life in fear.”

Steve lets your voice wash over him, head tilting back once more and the tears come, hot and heavy. The phone burns against his ear as you sigh, so alive, it's like you’re just on the other end and his heart bursts, eyes fluttering shut.

“If you’re listening, it means someone’s found me, and it means I’ve decided to go back home. I’m sorry. I… I couldn’t write all I wanted to in a note, so if you’re my favourite person in the world, Steve, press one. If you’re the best sister I could’ve asked for, Nat, press two. If you’re my favourite little witch, press three. And if you’re my partner in crime, Mr. Birdman, press four.”

The phone clatters to the floor, along with Steve’s knuckles as his arm falls limp. His bones have turned to solid blocks of lead and he swallows down burning acid. His thumb hits the speaker before he hits 1.

“Steve…”

“There’s so much I could say.”

Steve leaves his room, slamming the door shut behind him and Natasha, who’s wringing her hair through a towel, pauses in the hall to watch him pass. His name bubbles at her lips, and yet the ground shakes in his wake, and Natasha knows better than to speak your name.

“I don’t even know where to begin, really.”

He punches until he bleeds, and he doesn’t even realize it until the punching bag begins to slicken with blood. His fists slide along the tattered thing, and he swallows, rolling and curling his fingers. The sting is delightful, and for a moment, his fists ache more than his heart.

“I guess I should start off with I’m sorry.”

Wanda stitches his knuckles up later after dinner. Steve flinches when she pours alcohol over his wounds and digs the needle through his flesh. Natasha watches, pretending she’s only in the kitchen to grab the saltine crackers. Wanda’s magic fizzles along her fingertips. They’re both watching him like dogs, because there’s too much glass in this room, and too many sharp little things that remind him too much of you.

“I never meant to hurt you. I… I don’t even know how to begin to make up for this.”

“Steve.” Sam tosses a newspaper at him after a supply run with Natasha, and the supersoldier unfolds the print with a sharp snap. In dark block letters, he reads out your name, and the announcement of your engagement to the German chancellor’s son.

“But I was running for a reason. And… and you once told me about Siberia. About how an empire that topples from within is dead forever. The idea just came to me.”

Steve breaks his stitches when he uppercuts an arms dealer in Phuket. The blood runs warmly down his fingers, thick and sticky. He learns that you taught Wanda how to stitch flesh wounds and gave her a cinnamon roll recipe.

“Can you…” His voice fades and Wanda looks up at him gently as she wraps bandages around his bruised hands.

“I can try. It will not taste as good as hers, though,” she warns and Steve can barely muster a smile. That was not what he’d been asking for, and the warmth in Wanda’s smile makes something in him shatter. You’d had the same smile. Maybe. He doesn’t know.

Maybe he’s just searching for you in other people.

“This is my duty. Ever since my dad died, I thought I could outrun a shadow. But I can’t do that anymore.”

They televise your wedding since it’s a big deal. Steve watches bits of it, catches it in flashes, sees you in such a stunning white dress that he can barely remember to breathe. The air catches in his throat, and his lips part, eyes trained on your smile that looks so, so real, and suddenly someone is tugging on his hand.

“Steve,” Natasha whispers, “you’ve spilled your juice.” His gaze drifts from the screen to Nat, who only takes the carton of OJ, and grabs a paper towel roll. Steve looks down at the mess he’s made, orange juice spilling all over the counter, overflowing from his glass and dripping onto the floor, and he dips his head to the counter. The knot is hard to swallow again.

He feels like he hasn’t breathed in ages. He didn’t realize how much he’d miss you until you were already gone.

“I’m going to dismantle H.Y.D.R.A. And it’s probably going to take a long time, but my brother’s with me. I haven’t seen him since I was ten. Since Dad took me and left, and he’s… different. He’s good.”

Edinburgh is a mere spot in the distance as Steve watches Wanda and Vision speak to each other, hands laced, shoulders brushing. A bitter taste floods his mouth and he pulls out your card to give his hands something to do.

“I called him while you guys were away and we came up with a plan together. I couldn’t tell you because I knew you’d try to talk me out of it. And I didn’t want you to go through it, trying to convince me not to go.”

The card is ripping, foxing and wrinkled where he kept folding and unfolding it, and he closes his eyes, pressing his nose into the card stock. Just the faintest scent of cinnamon clings to the sheet and he can imagine your hand whispering over the card as you thought of what to say.

“I’m marrying the German chancellor’s son to clear my name. Ever since the Battle of the Triskelion, you know Alexander Pierce isn’t exactly a popular figure so I’ll be a target without his protection. He’s really nice and polite. He won’t ever treat me wrong. I know that. But I miss you.”

Wakandan winds caress his face as he walks back from the forcefield. The blue-faced alien’s stare burns into his back. Natasha looks down, steadying her breath, and Steve can only think about how he might die here, today, in Wakanda without even seeing you again. And if he fails today, you’ll be following him into whatever afterlife there is.

“I don’t even know if you ever felt the same, but I can hope that you did. Maybe I should’ve said it. Maybe things would’ve — could’ve — been different.”

The moment Thanos’ fist connects with his temple, his vision explodes in a frenzy of black stars and warm yellow light. His body goes before he can stop it, and mind-splitting pain spills from his head. The forest clearing floor is cool against his burning cheek and he barely feels the shockwave that runs over his body before his mind goes blank. His mouth full of ash, his fingers dig into the moist dirt and a warm wind swoops against his cheek. Your card bends his pocket, and he struggles, grabbing at the world with invisible hands while death stands behind him.

Exhaustion pulls him into the dirt, cuffing him to the dried leaves and the soil as his lungs heave for air. Agony trips down his spine and he lets out a soft groan as his eyes slip shut.

“But I love you.”

Time rewinds. Death is blasted away and his shadow no longer floats around Steve and he gasps, his brain burning from the wave that washes over him. He sucks in a breath, air stealing into his lungs and he blinks, squinting against the sunlight as he wiggles his fingers. Everything burns, and it pulses in oscillations from his split temple. Tears burning into his stinging eyes, he pushes himself up and nearly stumbles as the sun inside him sends fire burning down his legs. He feels like he’s been trampled over by a thousand horses and a grunt slips past his lips as his hand digs through his pocket.

Pulling your card out, his fingers shake as he unfolds it. Dirt has been smeared over the once-pristine cardstock and he swallows at the blood he streaks over the black ink as his fingers brush over your words.

“I’d like to think we could’ve been happy.”

Steve’s hand shakes as he slathers shaving cream along his jaw. He wonders what you’d think, to see him clean shaven — Captain America, again, but not really. And then an icy fist grips his stomach, wrenches him sideways. His phone sits on the edge of the counter, and he stares at it out of the corner of his eye. He’d left you a voice message to the number you used to have, silently begging for you to be alive, but with each ticking second, dread sinks its claws into his back.

He runs the razor carefully over his skin, one hand holding his other wrist to steady it. There are only two nicks along his jaw and neck, and they clot before he finishes shaving. He barely recognizes his reflection as he pats away the stray cream clotting at his neck. The light in his eyes has been snuffed out, and his skin sags in a way he’s not comfortable with as he stares at the hollow man before him.

“But it just isn’t meant to be. And I’ll have to be okay with that.”

“Bunch of tired old wheels! I got nothin' for you, Cap! I've got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options! Zero, zip, nada. No trust - liar.” Tony’s gaunt face stares back at him, dark, wide eyes hidden behind sunglasses but still, Steve can see past the shades. He thinks of Tulum, sandy beaches and sea salt wind, and how you’d looked an awful like Tony does now.

An unsteady man topples before him, and his lungs squeeze out every last breath as Tony rips off his reactor — his heart — and slams it into his open palm. Steve doesn’t even know where to begin and he barely opens his mouth before Tony collapses at his feet.

Steve hoists him up, swallowing the bruising blooming in his throat. The ache spreads to his bleeding heart, and he is nearly severed at the knees. Everything tilts, blurs into a plethora of color.

You failed, a voice in his head hisses. And she’s dead. She died believing in you. He sets Tony carefully on the bed that Bruce leads him to, shaking his head free of the devil lurking in his mind.

“I’ll take it from here, Steve,” Bruce murmurs and he nods, retreating out of the room. He doesn’t have a place here. Not anymore.

“I love you, Steve Rogers.”

Later that night, after his first trip into space and with his legs still gummy from the G-force, he sets the arc reactor carefully on Tony’s nightstand, lips pressed together. His eyes rake over the sleeping man’s body, and he wants to ask Tony for advice. About what, he doesn’t know.

“Even if you don’t love me back.”

His phone rings, shattering the illusion of peace in the room and Steve twists to grab his phone from his pocket, fingers slipping as his heart jumps to his throat. An unknown phone number burns across the screen and he walks out of the room, brushing past Natasha who barely has a question forming on her lips.

“Goodbye.”

He’s just down the hall when he answers, and the phone burns against his ear as he barely whispers, “Hello?”

“Steve, oh, thank God, you’re okay. What happened? What’s happening, Steve?”

“Kid—” Everything breaks at once at the sound of your voice. You sound so much older, voice deeper, darker, and it’s like the light’s been stolen from you as he closes his eyes, swallows, tries to tell you that somehow, he’d failed, and— “you’re okay.”

“Yeah. What’s happening? Why did people disappear?” you whisper and he shakes his head as the first of the tears begin to fall over red, flushed cheeks. It rushes back to him, hearing your voice. A voicemail he’d listened to religiously for days on end that by now he has memorized it, every pause and stutter and breath, bounces in his skull as he searches for things to say. Searches among the long list of things he wants to say for what’s most important.

“Are you alright? Are you safe?” His voice cracks and you sigh, sounding close to tears yourself by the way your breath comes in fragments over the speaker despite your voice remaining firm. The remnants of Steve’s heart are blown away in the wind. You sound exhausted.

“I’m fine. I… my brother, my husband and I, we’re flying to New York to meet with what’s left of the U.N. They called an emergency council meeting. His father disappeared and the people are looking to him.”

Steve’s throat tightens and he nods, sucking in his bottom lip as more burning tears slip over his skin. Your husband. Of course. It’s so petty, so small compared to what he’d just seen, but somehow, the two words have punctured his lungs.

“Steve, are you still there?” you ask quietly, breathily, and he exhales, shaking himself of the heat that clouds his face as his heart weeps. Some very broken part of him wants to convince you to stay far away where he can’t have even a remote chance of seeing you, but he ignores that voice in his head as the ache in his chest swells.

“You should have said it.” Steve does not need to clarify. Your wrinkled, blood-smeared card lays in the back pocket of his jeans, and he hates the weight it still carries. You inhale sharply, softly, and Steve wonders if you’re still the same. Cinnamon spice, sharp as a dagger, a smile full of secrets.

“Please, don’t.”

“You should have said it,” he repeats, eyes closing. He knows you will be just as he’s remembered you. If he sees you, he knows he’ll taste that sharpness in his mouth again, the warmth of cinnamon and the ironwire of your arms. He knows, and he should’ve said it, too. Tears balance on the tips of his eyelashes as he wipes them away with the heel of his palm. Eyes finding the ceiling, he blinks hard against his palm and leans against the wall, temple pressed into cold metal that seeps into his bones. His lips numb. “Have a safe flight.”

There is a long pause on your end where Steve balances the choices of hanging up the phone or not, and he wonders if he even has the strength to press End Call. Your soft breathing buzzes through the speaker as you let out a sigh, and then utter, just barely, something faint and so terribly final. “Thank you, Steve.”

You don’t ask if you can see him. You know his answer, and he knows better. Some things are better left just as they were. A year-long fling. He can tell himself that that was all it was as much as he wants.

Steve always had a problem admitting things to himself.

He sucks in his tears and a quivering smile forces its way onto his face, as if that’ll convince him that this is what he wants. But it isn’t. He knows it. It’s better for the both of us. It’s safer this way.

“Goodbye.”

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merakiaes · 5 years

Text

Welcome To America - Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Requested: Yes

Warnings/notes: Some Bucky fluff for anon! You said I could choose the Avenger myself so I hope it’s alright I chose Bucky even though he’s basically not an Avenger. And seeing as I’m Swedish, I hope it’s alright that I made the reader in this Swedish because I don’t know anything about other cultures. I hope you like it!

Wordcount: 1571

Summary: Reader is Swedish and new to America and find the things they do really strange, you share some of your Swedish culture with Bucky

Americans were weird, that much you had been able to determine during the three weeks you had been living in the country.

You had been in America several times before you actually moved there full time, helping S.H.I.E.L.D and the Avengers out on several cases with your skill in combat, much like Natasha’s, along with building a relationship with the one and only Bucky Barnes.

But during those times you hadn’t been there for longer than a few days at a time and had never really taken the time to think about Americans’ habits. But now, thanks to yours and Bucky’s relationship taking another step, you had moved there for good.

You had first noticed how different their culture was from yours when you suggested taking Peter to a pub on his eighteenth birthday. Apparently, he couldn’t go out drinking until he was twenty-one, whereas where you came from, you could buy alcohol at a club or pub when you were eighteen.

The second thing you noticed being different was the dinner-times. You usually had dinner between three and five in the afternoon in Sweden, but dinner in America, at least with the Avengers, most of the times weren’t until seven or eight.

There was cars and subways everywhere, literally everywhere. Where you came from, you only took train or cab when you were going a long way, otherwise taking a bicycle most places. But here? You called an uber even when you were only a minute’s walk away from your destination.

And their food. It was good, sure. But it was so damn unhealthy. Hamburgers, cheesy pizza, KFC, and not to speak about pancakes for breakfast. All you wanted was a sandwich with liverwurst or Kalle’s caviar. Was that really too much to ask?

Apparently, it was, as the team had more or less thrown up in their mouths at the taste of two of your favourite things in the world and banned them from ever being in the refrigerator again.

But there were things that were better in America, as well, one of them being that the stores were open for longer during the nights. That’s where you found yourself now. It was almost midnight. At home, the stores would’ve closed already three hours ago, but not here.

You were just coming home from the grocery store with Bucky after getting the necessities you would be needing for the midnight snack you had woken up craving. Bucky, ever the gentleman, had gotten up with you and come with you, and was now walking ahead at you with the bags in his arms.

As you stepped out of the elevator, you stomped your feet on the mat softly to rid them of any dirt and by that avoiding bringing the dirt with you further into the room. Taking a few steps further into the room, you then stepped out of your shoes, putting them to the side.

Bucky, already having put the bags on the kitchen counter, leaned against the wall and watched you with a small, amused smile, his arms crossed over his chest.

“What are you doing, (Y/N)?” He asked then, causing you to jump slightly and stop in your tracks where you were moving your shoes.

“Uh-“ You hesitated, looking between him and the shoes. “Taking my shoes off?”

“You’ve been here more times than I can count, and you’ve lived here for three weeks now, and you still haven’t learned that you don’t have to take your shoes off.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

You scoffed at that, leaving your shoes by the door where you would have left them at home and walked into the room. “I would’ve gotten yelled at by my mom if I walked inside with my shoes on at home.”

“Well…” Bucky said, coming up behind you to put his arms around you as you reached the kitchen counter and started unpacking the bags. “It’s a good thing I’m not your mom, then, huh?”

You smiled softly as you felt him kiss your shoulder. “Still, the floors get dirty.”

“We have people for that.”

“It’s still rude to make it dirtier than it has to be.”

Bucky chuckled tiredly, leaving one last kiss on your neck before letting go of your waist and moving to your side where he started unpacking the second bag with snacks and groceries. “Things seem to be pretty different where you’re from.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” You shook your head.

“Well, why don’t you tell me about it? I doubt we’ll be able to fall asleep again anytime soon once we’ve eaten.” Bucky shrugged.

Glancing at the man beside you, you offered him an excited smile. “What do you want to know?”

Bucky thought for a moment, humming under his breath. “Do you celebrate Christmas?”

You nodded your head. “Of course.”

“Halloween?”

“Yup.”

“Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanksgiving?”

“Uh, no, actually.”

Bucky’s head turned to you at that, eyebrows shooting up. “You don’t? But what about the turkey?”

You let out a laugh. “Well, Thanksgiving doesn’t own the turkey. We still eat it, just not on any particular holiday.”

“What more holidays do you celebrate then?”

“Uh…” You thought for a while, while unpacking a bag of apples. “Midsummer. I think we’re the only ones who actually celebrate that Holiday.”

“I’ve never hear of that one before. What is it?”

“Well, traditionally, Midsummer was celebrated on June twenty-fourth, the feast day of St. John the Baptist. It used to be considered a time of magic, where anything nature-related was thought to have special powers. Gathering flowers to weave into wreaths and crowns was a way to harness nature’s magic to ensure good health throughout the year. It also used to be extended to the realm of romance. It was said that, for unmarried girls, if you picked seven types of flowers and slept with them under your pillow, you would dream about your future husband. Not many people are aware of the magical origins of the tradition nowadays, but we still follow the traditions for the most part. The flower crowns for example, those are a must. And we dress up a big pole in leaves and flowers and dance around it while singing about frogs.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows at that, looking at you with a doubtful expression. “Are you serious? That’s really a thing?”

You laughed. “I know it might seem silly, but it’s really fun. And the food is amazing. Swedish meatballs, herring, fermented Baltic herring, new potatoes and egg halves with caviar and shrimp. That’s the good stuff, as opposed to all of the shitty fast food restaurants you’ve got here in the US.”

“Hey.” Bucky protested, his hand coming to rest on his chest in a feign-hurt manner. “I don’t like those restaurants, either. I prefer real food, although I’m not sure I would count stinky fish as real food.”

You hit his arm, giving him a teasing smile. “You better stop insulting my country’s traditions, or I’ll make you eat a whole can of fermented Baltic herring next year.”

“I’m not even sure what it is, but it doesn’t sound pleasant so please don’t.” Bucky wrinkled his nose at that, going back to cutting the apples you had handed him some time during your conversations.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” You agreed. “Not even half of the population back home wants to go near it, so I would imagine an American like yourself wouldn’t even be able to be in the same room as an open can.”

You felt a small grin rise on your lips at the thought, finding it rather amusing. Bucky hummed then, wiping his wet fingers on his leg before turning you towards him and pulling you closer to his chest. Looking down at you, he offered you a warn smile, lowering his head to peck your lips carefully.

“I think I’ll stick with the hamburgers for now.” He agreed.

You could only smile, thinking about how happy you were to have a boyfriend like Bucky, who would gladly sit and listen to you rant on about your country and its traditions. God knew there wasn’t many men like that left in the world as they lost their manners more and more for every generation.

You watched as Bucky turned his head back to the counter then, without letting you go, and as he picked up a piece of apple and brought it to your mouth, poking it to your lips in an attempt to get you to open up.

As you laughed at the small action, he took that to his advantage and pushed the small piece of fruit inside your mouth. You bit it off about halfway, watching as he put the second piece into his own mouth. The simple action of affection made a bright smile rise to your lips, and with your hands you brought him in for a sweet kiss.

Bucky hummed; his lips still slightly wet from the fruit as they pressed against yours. “I love you.” He mumbled, the words coming out muffled against your lips.

You smiled, pulling apart briefly so that you could answer: “I love you, too. Thank you for coming with me to the store.”

Bucky smiled a warm smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners as they looked down at you. “Anything for you sweetheart.” He mumbled, before pulling you in for another fruity kiss.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers one shot #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel one shot #marvel

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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years

Note

Request: romantic Tony Stark x fem!Reader with the song Some Enchanted Evening by Ezio Pinza (from the musical South Oacific).

A/N: I really really love that song!! Ugh it’s so beautiful. Here is a link for the song. Requests are open and I am definitely wanting to do more of these little song prompt type things. Give me a pairing or an x reader and a song and I will try to make magic

***

New York was hosting its annual charity gala for the city. Being that the Avengers called New York home, they didn’t really have a choice but to make an appearance. Tony sat at the team’s table with Rhodey, Wanda, Bruce, and Clint. The rest of the team was mingling with familiar faces and notable figures from all over the city.

Soft music came from the cellist sitting in the back corner of the room. Aldermans, politicians, philanthropists, and even the Mayor herself. Everyone wanted a chance to talk to the heroes who regularly saved the world from destruction.

Tony looked around the room to see where the rest of his teammates were. Thor and Sam were standing near a table of aldermen, chatting with them idly. Natasha and Steve were talking with the mayor at her table. When Steve noticed that the Iron Man was looking in their direction, he nodded for Tony to join them.

Tony rose to his feet and button his suit jacket. Before he so much as stepped out from his seat, his eyes caught a bright red dress.

Some enchanted evening, you may see a stranger, You may see a stranger across a crowded room

You stood with a senator. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his dark blue dress pants. You were smiling so brightly, a few curls hanging down around your face. You held a glass of champagne in one hand. Your other hand moved as you spoke.

There was something about you, whether it be the way your smiled or the way you seemed so animated, so lively, that made Tony unable to look away. He was captivated by this stranger. Rhodey called his name, taking Tony’s attention away from you.

“You good, man?” Rhodey asked him. Tony nodded and messed with one of his cuff links. As he moved out and around the table to go to Steve and Natasha, he looked back to where you had been but no longer were. For some reason, he felt the need to see you again, to properly meet you. He felt like maybe he should search the room until he found the woman with the obnoxiously bright smile, maybe ask around and figure out who she was. But he shook his head at his thoughts and pushed them away.

And somehow you know, you’ll know even thenThat somewhere you’ll see her, again and again

The next time he saw you was at one of the upscale bars in New York. He didn’t see you at first. You were more towards the back of the bar with a group, sitting around a circular booth. Tony sat towards the middle at the largest booth in the bar. He was surrounded by friends, celebrating Thor’s ninth Earth birthday. Tony and Bruce suggested that instead of trying to figure out when exactly he was born, they used the date that he had first come to earth.

Clint was in the middle of telling a story of his first few missions with S.H.I.E.L.D. when Tony heard you.

Some enchanted evening, someone may be laughingYou may hear her laughing across a crowded room

His attention was pulled away from Clint’s story at the sound of laughter. It was rambunctious and airy, a heavenly sound that, for some inexplicable reason, made his heart race. He was stuck staring at you for close to four minutes before you looked in his direction.

You had felt his eyes on you for a while but didn’t try to find who was staring at you. You immediately knew who he was. Who wouldn’t? You gave him a gentle smile and nod of your head. Your friend next to you noticed this interaction and nudged your shoulder, making you look to her.

“Go talk to him.” She encouraged.

“Tony Stark?” Your eyes widened with disbelief at her words. “No way.”

“Y/N, come on!”

“He’s sitting with his friends, Y/F/N.” You told her. “I don’t want to barge in like that.”

You returned to the conversation your friends were having, taking a sip of the fruity drink in front of you.

And night after night, as strange as it seems, The sound of her laughter will sing in your dreams

Three days later, Rhodey noticed a change in Tony's behavior. He was often times he'd zone out in the middle of conversation, his mind wandering somewhere else while those around him spoke. With Friday's help, Rhodey was able to find out that Tony had recently been researching soul mates.

Rhodey found the billionaire in the lab within the Avengers Tower. It was past midnight and he had been down there nearly all day.

"Tony, you need to go to bed. Get some sleep, man." Rhodey moved towards the desk Tony was in. He placed a hand on the back of Tony's chair.

“I'm busy.” He muttered, reading the screen to his laptop.

“With what?” Rhodes looked down at the screen, briefly skimming through the article. He furrowed his brows together. “How to tell if you’ve met your soulmate? Tony, what the hell are you looking at stuff like that for?”

“I-I saw someone, Rhodey.” Tony’s voice was quiet and weak. He was tired, exhausted even, from all the research he’d done, all of the late nights spent searching for scientific explanations for what was going on. He'd seen the same woman two times in less than two weeks. What did that mean? Did it mean anything? “I saw her on two separate occasions.”

Rhodey looked down at his best friend, confused.

“Okay.... What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Tony leaned forward and ran his hands over his face then back through his hair. “Do you believe in soulmates, Rhodey?”

Rhodey sighed gently, pulling a chair up to Tony’s side.

“Why do you ask that?”

“Because I.... I feel....” He trailed off, shaking his head. He leaned back in his seat, resting his arms along the arms of the chair. “I want to know who she is, Rhodey. It’s been a week and I can’t stop thinking about her, about this chick I don’t even know.“

Rhodey said nothing for a while. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“What if that means she’s suppose to be someone important?”

“I think that if you really think that soulmates exist, if you think that there’s a chance this woman you’ve seen twice is meant to be in your life, then I think she’ll show up again.”

Who can explain it? Who can tell you why?Fools give you reasons, wise men never try

The third time Tony saw you was in the lobby of the Avengers Tower two weeks after he had last seen you. You were standing near the front desk with a trio of women. You were dressed in black dress pants, a white button down, and a black blazer. The outfit was simple but to the Iron Man, you looked amazing.

Tony broke away from his teammates to approach you. He didn’t even realize what he was doing until it was too late. His feet were in charge and his thoughts were gone.

The three women you were chatting with caught sight of the Avenger approaching them. They instantly quit paying attention to you to give him flirty smiles and fix their hair. You turned to see who they were gawking at. Your lips parted with a quiet gasp as Tony stopped right in front of you.

His eyes were on you, searching your features. Your eyes, your nose, your lips, your cheekbones. He needed to know if there was some sort of sign maybe that you were important, that you meant something. New York was too busy for coincidences, right?

“Hi.” A little smile tugged at his lips.

“Hi.” A shy smile of your own crossed your mouth. When he didn’t say anything and only stared at you even more, you figured you’d talk. “Is there anything I can help you with, Mr. Stark?”

He blinked at the name, pulled from his trance-like state.

“I do believe so. Would you like to go with me to dinner tonight?”

“Tonight?” You raised your brows, looking down at the watch on your wrist. “It’s nearly six o’clock.”

“A late dinner.”

You watched him curiously, trying to figure out his motive. You cocked your head to the side just a little, clasping your hands together in front of yourself.

“But you don’t know my name.”

The smile fell from his lips as he thought that you were going to turn him down. Damn it. He was such an idiot for even thinking you might be his soulmate, something he wasn’t even sure he believed in.

Sensing his disappointment, you held your hand out for him.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He shook your hand carefully, chocolate brown eyes boring into yours. “That’s a beautiful name.”

Some enchanted evening, when you find your true loveWhen you feel her call you across a crowded room

Seven months later, Tony was in a happy and satisfying relationship with you. You filled the hole inside after he lost Pepper. You gave him a reason to take care of himself, to sleep more often and to try to eat actual food. You didn’t like that he went on just coffee for days sometimes when he was having a rough time. You always asked him if he’d eaten when you see him. If he hadn’t, that’s the first thing you do.

He admired how motherly you were, how gentle you were with him. You had patience for days and were able to put up with him and his antics well. You enjoyed his tinkering and encouraged him, but only if he did so healthily. You learned pretty quick that often times he’d get lost in his work. You didn’t mind this, but you didn’t like when it kept him from rest or from mingling with his Avengers family. It was healthy to socialize sometimes.

Tonight was your first night at an event with him. You had somehow been pulled away from your Avenger and were thrust into a conversation with Natasha and a man you didn’t know. You didn’t care to pay attention to the topic. You were too eager to find Tony.

Your eyes flickered around the room in search for him. You spotted him with Steve and a few strangers across the large ballroom. You excused yourself from the conversation with Natasha and the man, and ventured across the room towards him. However, half way to the table you were stopped by a man. He was handsome, sure, and his suit was expensive and nice, but you weren’t interested. He didn’t care that you’d declined his offer to join him at his table. He was too focused on your breasts and giving you meaningless compliments.

“Excuse me.” You spoke through your teeth, glaring at the man as you tried to move around him but his hand latched on to your arm.

“I gave you a compliment, woman. You can’t just walk away from me.”

You turned your head to look in the direction of your boyfriend, still tugging your arm away from the aggressive man.

“Tony!” You called his name.

The second he heard the distress in your voice, he was crossing the room, pushing through the crowd and ignoring anyone who tried to stop him.

The man let you go upon seeing the billionaire approach.

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, his eyes finding you. “You okay, pumpkin?”

“I’m fine.” You moved to his side, hooking your arm around his. You glared sharply at the man who dared to grab you. “He grabbed my arm.” You muttered quietly, brushing your fingers against the expensive fabric to his suit.

“Good evening.” Tony held the man’s gaze. Tony had the amazing ability to give someone a smug, sarcastic smile without really trying. “I’m Tony Stark.”

“I know who you are.”

“Oh, good. Then you’d know not to put your hands on Ms. Y/L/N.” Tony gestured to you. “Especially when she doesn’t want you to.”

The man turned to walk away, mumbling curse words under his breath. Just then, Peter popped up behind you two.

“Hey, guys! What’s up?”

“I need a favor, kid.” Tony turned to face the Spider-Man. “You see the big guy behind me wearing a jacket two sizes too small?”

The kid peeked around Tony’s shoulder to look at the man. He snickered and nodded his head.

“Go annoy the shit out of him.”

“Tony–,” You tried to protest but he was having none of it.

“It's okay, Y/N. I've got this handled.”

“Why me, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked, furrowing his brows together.

“Because I think Barton’s had too much to drink. He’d start a fight. I just want him annoyed.”

You watched the young Avenger move towards the man. You leaned against Tony, putting your hand on his arm.

“You’re terrible.” You looked up at him with a smile on your lips.

“I know.” He sighed mockingly, turning his head to meet your gaze. Brown eyes looked you up and down, admiring your silver silk dress. “Have I told you how absolutely stunning you look tonight?”

“Just a few times.” You rolled your eyes at him with a smile. He’d at least doe so a dozen times from the time you left the Tower to the time you arrived at the party.

Then fly to her side, and make her your ownFor, all through your life, you may dream all alone

Four years later, you found yourself sitting on a blanket on the beach with Tony behind you, his arms wrapped securely around you, holding you against his chest.

It was the Fourth of July and the Avengers decided to gather on the coast to watch fireworks.

You looked over your shoulder to Tony. As a firework crackled and exploded in the sky, the colors reflected in his eyes. You smiled softly at him, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He looked down at you, a peaceful smile crossing his lips.

“You know, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” He kisses your cheek and then buried his nose in your neck. He could stay like that forever, with you in his arms. Everything was right for once in his life. You’d brought him peace he never knew existed. You brought happiness and control into his dim and chaotic lifestyle. You were the puzzle piece he had been missing, the piece that completed the puzzle.

He shifted a little, his arms tightening around you. As he moved, he could feel the little black velvet box resting in the pocket of his pants. He was going to propose to you, he was ready to settle down and live a life with you that he’d only dreamed of.

He smiled at the thought and rested his chin on the top of your head, his eyes watching a purple and blue firework explode in the sky.

“I love you, pumpkin.”

Once you have found her, never let her goOnce you have found her, never let her go

Taglist: @tone-stark @wayward-dream @coolgeekywolf @trenchcoatedwings @jennylovelyheart

If you want to be added my Tony taglist let me know :)

#requests #queenxxxsupreme #tony stark request #tony stark #tony stark x reader #iron man x reader #iron man #iron man request

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cucci · 5 years

Text

Sanctuary

Pairing: Therapist!Bucky x Reader (though he’ll mostly be referred to as James/ Dr. Barnes in this AU)

Summary: Reader just wants a good therapist who’ll help her get her shit together. Instead she finds her sanctuary~

Disclaimer: I am NOT promoting romantic therapist/client relationships by any means. This story is fiction and is only for fun. Therapist/client relationships involve huge power imbalances and should be kept strictly professional.

Warning: Insecurity, a lot of it and feelings of anxiety~

Chapter 3: Try Out Feeling Good

“I’m back, guys!”

Wanda’s (loud) voice rings through open space of your living room, snatching you out of dreamland.

“Shit, Wanda,” Nat groans. “Maybe lower your voice when people are sleeping?”

You sit up on your side of the couch, stretching here and there and rubbing the blur of sleep away. Surprisingly, the sun is already high in the sky when usually you’re up a little before daybreak. ‘How long did we sleep?’

“Yeah, I can see that. The both of you should’ve been up by now. It’s 1 o’clock.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, you never sleep that late.

After you and Nat had eaten dinner (“dinner” being greasy pizza and soda) around 8 o’clock you’d washed the few dirty dishes and tidied up other areas of the apartment (you actually felt satisfied actually completing the task)then the two of you went back to watching shitty TV shows.

“And besides,” Wanda continues, “I’ve got news.”

“You sure do.” Natasha gives a scrutinizing but playful look. “Where were you all night, huh?”

“Yeah,” you join, poking fun at the brunette. “We were waiting on you to join our TV and pizza night.”

Wanda’s cheeks go pink and the flush spreads to her neck, “I was out.” She tries to shake off her bashfulness and continues. “We got invited out tonight. Well, I did but the invite has been extended to you two. How could I go out with my best friends?”

“You definitely did last night. Anyways, I gotta shower,” Natasha says. She get up off of the couch and makes her way to the bathroom to get ready for the day you assume.

“How nice of you to stay and get the details, Nat,” Wanda says.

“Shower first, details later,” she replies as she goes into the bathroom.

Wanda turns her eyes to you expectantly. You chuckle, knowing she wants you to ask first. “Where’d we get invited to?”

“Somewhere fun,” she says in typical Wanda fashion to your dismay. ‘Fun’ usually involves a party or something similar in your experience. “Come on, I’m helping you choose something to wear.”

—

‘Fun’ (unsurprisingly) turned out to be a party, some event at a club that Wanda’s mystery guy wanted her to come to. The three of you shuffle into the club quickly, wary of others pushing in behind you.

“I’m gonna go find him,” Wanda says. She speaks so fast you barely understand what she says before she’s tip toeing off to find her guy, whoever he is.

The place is terribly crowded, people dancing and grinding around the place, the smell of alcohol and sweat and perfume cloud your senses and add to your building anxiety.

The skimpy dress and heels Wanda dressed you in aren’t helping either. The outfit is gorgeous and you actually felt nice, pretty even until you stepped out of your home, immediately afraid of how other will perceive you. And the fact that you feel ten times more vulnerable in the outfit isn’t much of a bonus.

‘I look ridiculous with this makeup,’ you think. 'Why’d I even agree to come here?’

Nat’s slender arm loops around your own, anchoring you in way and calming you down, you’re thankful for it.

“Want a drink first?” She practically shouts the question to be audibles over the pounding music. Your ears ring a little. “You seem a little tense.”

“Ye-yeah,” your response is clumsy, you’re really not sure what you want to do but Natasha’s suggestion seems like the best option.

Natasha leads as the two of you push and shove to get through the horde of dancing people and club goers until you’re finally at the bar. You pull out a stool and settle in at the counter, resting your elbows on the cool glass. You try and take some deep breathes, hoping to gain control of your nerves.

Natasha sits down too, then waves a slim hand to get the bartender’s attention. You don’t hear clearly what she orders but you’re to overwhelmed to ask and minutes later, she’s sliding you some bright colored, decorated drink. You eye the beverage until you finally take a sip. The fruity taste is sweet but you can definitely feel the warmth for alcohol as it slides down your throat.

‘Good, now maybe I’ll calm down a little.’

You’re not sure how much time passes as you slowly consume the drink but you can feel it in your system. Your low alcohol tolerance is definitely apparent right now.

“Natasha, Y/N,” you barely catch Wanda’s voice as she yells over the music. Turning around, you see her approaching you and Nat with a man with her. He’s tall, very tall actually with shaggy blonde hair that barely meets the top of his forehead. He smiles down at her fondly while she continues to wave you guys down.

“You guys,” she says, now standing confidently in front of the both of you. “This is Victor, he’s the one who invited us tonight. Victor, these are my best friends, Natasha and Y/N.”

“Hi,” you say politely offering out a hand to shake. Nat does the same and he obliged both of you.

“Well, ladies I hope you don’t mind me taking her away again tonight, we’ve got some things to do,” Victor says, giving Wanda a knowing look. She grins up at him playfully.

Your chest tightens, the all too familiar green monster rising in you again. You feel happy for your friend but you can’t help but want that too, somebody to look at you like you’re all seven wonders of the world and more.

‘But Wanda’s actually beautiful though and charming and funny and-‘

“Yeah, no problem,” Nat says. “Wanda, behave.” She sends Wanda a teasing look, Wanda waves her off and smiles at you then the happy couple is winding back through the crowd.

“Y/N,” Natasha says to get your attention. “I’m gonna go dance. You wanna come or...”

You shake your head at her, “No, you go ahead. I’m gonna hang out here.” And like Wanda and Victor, she’s gone to have fun and party carelessly like you wish you could.

Of course in typical Natasha style, she finds someone to someone to dance with in minute as you watch. The man is just as beautiful as Nat is, tall and handsome with broad shoulders and shaggy blond hair. Lucky, Natasha.

You look around the rest of the club, feeling even more dejected than before as you watch people laugh and dance and spill their cups like they’re having the time of their lives.

‘Wanda’s in love and Natasha’s met some hot guy then there’s me,’ Your regular deprecating thoughts are amplified and only add to your feelings of inadequacy. The alcohol in your system makes your head. You feel sick.

“I gotta get outta here,” you mumble to no one. Your anxiety overloads your brain making your breathing shallow and your muscles clench, unclench and clench over and over again.

You’re slightly relieved when you make it out of the crowed venue even though the world tilts in front of you for a moment.

You want to turn back and get Natasha first but that thought is thrown out of the window immediately, there’s no way in hell you’ll go back in there. Rather than going back in that hell hole, you reach into your small clutch for your cell phone and shoot a quick message to Nat and Wanda: I’m going home, not feeling well but I’ll be ok :)

That was lie but you didn’t want them to worry. A few minutes tick past and they both respond.

Nat replies first, ‘I’ll check on you when I get home, babe <3’

The Wanda’s reply follows, ‘awww, hope ya feel better.’

You weakly smile at their responses then another wave of dizziness passes over you so quickly, you phone a cab, hoping they’ll arrive before you lose your ability to stand properly.

—————

The ride home is slow- too slow for you when all you want is a warm shower and the comfort of your bed. And when you finally come to a stop in front of your apartment building, you stumble out of the cab (not before blundering to get to get cash out of your clutch) and make your way up to you home.

You get the spare key Wanda had hidden in one of the fake little plants nearby and get into the apartment. Gracelessly, you make your to the bathroom and shuck off the clinging dress and heels.

You step in and turn on the warm spray of water and sit down in the tub, tucking your knees close to your chest and letting your head rest on them.

The makeup on your face yields to the warm water sending streams of mascara and foundation down your cheeks into the drain. The alcohol, your own anxiety and intrusive thoughts make an ugly mix inside of you. And without the comfort of Wanda or Natasha, you feel alone, completely and utterly alone.

Tears soon join the the downpour on your face.

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Tag List: @marvelsangels @technicallykawaiisoul @yallgotkik

A/N:I had to use one of Visions’ aliases to fit into the more “realistically” but hope y'all enjoy this and as always leave feedback :)

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #Marvel AU #captain america #james barnes #natasha x steve #Black Widow #avengers au #avengers #wanda #wanda maximov #Scarlet Witch #bucky barnes smut #vision x wanda #n #bucky fanfic #bucky x you

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fatbottombucky · 5 years

Text

Secret Admirer *Bucky Barnes x Reader*

Summary (Requested by Anon): Could you maybe do a Bucky x male reader imagine? Maybe about the reader wanting the Avengers to implement more traditions into the holidays, so everyone gets a secret admirer. The reader uses this as a chance to express to Bucky about how he feels just to know whether he likes guys or not.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Male!Reader

Rating: [PG-13] Teen

Notes: Thanks for the request. Hopefully, this lives up to satisfaction. - Rosalie

(don’t ask why i used this gif, i just find it hilarious) “I don’t think this is a good idea,” Steve remarks with his arms crossed.

Tony and yourself only shrugged, grins upon both of your faces. You had wanted the Avengers to implement more traditions into the holidays, to get more involved in the spirit of them. Tony had agreed almost instantly, he wanted to celebrate Christmas with the whole sha-bang, giant tree and huge meal. Presents galore and ugly Christmas sweaters too.

Almost every holiday Tony went all out on, so it was no different for Valentines Day. Pink confetti littered the surfaces, bunting of red hearts and chocolate covered fruit. It’s like Cupid had threw up love in the Avengers base, not that you didn’t like it because you loved it.

“Everyone is gonna have a secret admirer this year,” Tony announces, holding a jar with all the Avenger’s name inside. “We’re gonna pull a name, you have to get a card and a present for the person you pick.”

Everyone picked out a name, all glancing around suspiciously on who could’ve gotten them. You had already picked out a name, well not picked it out but for dramatic effect, you pulled out a blank piece of paper- as Tony did too. He, obviously, picked Bruce because he had an ‘amazing’ gift already picked out.

You picked Bucky. Steve Rogers best friend, the sometimes goofy, but steely-eyed man. It took him a while before he joined the Avengers, he spent most of his time at Steve’s place in Brooklyn and trying to get reacquainted with today’s time. It wasn’t long before he decided to join, he started to come along on small missions as the back-up, then he eventually became a full-fledged member of the Avengers.

Thus started your little crush on the man, he was nice and funny. He had moments where he was silent, broody and just… there but also someplace else. But he has more good days than bad days. He was everything you wanted in a man, but you just… couldn’t tell him that face-to-face. Mostly because you didn’t know who he was into; if he was into anything at all, Hydra had messed with him so much that maybe even the thought of being intimate with someone didn’t appeal to him.

So, yourself and Tony had come up with a plan, well… 12% of a plan. Tony had suggested to maybe get Bucky a Valentine's gift, but not telling him who it’s from. To see his reaction to getting a gift, to having an actual admirer.

**Valentines Day**

You watched as everyone entered the common room, cards and gifts littered around the room with names but no senders. You chuckled lightly at Steve’s reaction, a card with a stupid pun and his gift being a waffle-iron that creates the shape of his shield.

“Clint,” Steve side-eyed the Archer who only grinned, “I know you got this because we both liked it on Etsy.”

Clint only shrugged, “Figured you’d love to use it at the farm with my kids.” Steve only nodded and one armed hugged his friend.

Peter opened his gift, a lot of Spider-Man merch and chocolate. Bruce got a bunch of stationary stuff, all Avengers themed, along with a trip to Tony’s island- where he’ll be completely alone, no one else with him. Thor got a bunch of clothes, lots of sweets, and flowers. Natasha got a new knife set, plus make-up. Wanda got a gift card to her favourite shop, Home Sense (I don’t know the American equivalent if you don’t have this store). Tony got chocolate money; which he loves. Clint got a bunch of new flannel shirts, so he can wear them on his farm.

You ended up getting a box of your favourite chocolates, alongside a pack of your favourite alcohol. It made you smile, the card only had your name written inside along with the already written greeting. Natasha nudged you lightly, giving you a wink, your heart sunk slightly at the fact it was Nat that got you. But you smiled, already knowing you’d scoff down the chocolates later - plus the beer.

You looked up just in time to see Bucky open his own, you had wrapped it carefully but he didn’t seem to care- which you didn’t mind- you got him the cliche chocolates, saying ‘I Love U’. His eyebrows furrowed and he tilted his head, a small smile curling on his lips but confusion written in the steely eyes. He read the card, eyes scanning back and forth over the text; you tried to make sure your handwriting was different.

‘To James

Happy Valentines Day,

For being an Avenger, confessing ones

Feelings is always scary to do, but

I love you. Truly.

Sincerely, your secret admirer’

He looked up, glancing around at everyone, trying to figure out who it is. You quickly looked away, casting your attention to Nat and Clint’s conversation, laughing when Clint took her new lipstick and put some on. He went around kissing everyone’s cheek, including Bucky’s, who was now looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“So, why don’t we crack open this and actually celebrate the day of love,” you called and smiled. Everyone cheered and grabbed a beer, all chatting merrily.

Thor decided to put on his new favourite chick-flick, 27 Dresses. You all sat around the lounge, eating the gimmicky chocolate and drinking the fruity alcohol. Bucky sat down beside you, on the floor, you glanced at him for a moment but his eyes were cast on the movie. You wondered if he knew it was you or, at least, suspected you. Maybe he hoped it was you, wished that you were the one that wrote the card and got the chocolate.

Without a word he offered you a piece of his chocolate, you glanced up to see a smirk… a flirty one, he dropped a wink as you took a piece and then went back to watching the movie.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x male!reader #bucky barnes x male reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x male reader #marvel one shots #marvel imagines

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 years

Text

Out on the Town (Part 2)

The next day after the first kisses in the kitchen, Thor found himself called home to Asgard. You felt sadness but also joy. He promised to return quickly. Without him there you had time to process your feelings and adjust to having someone once again holding your heart in their hands. It was also lovely to have time to decide how to handle others.

Two weeks as it turned out and you missed him. You missed him terribly so when the offer to go out with the others was extended, you took it. Drowning your sorrows and joining in the revelry with everything you had... So that when Thor did appear you were very drunk.

And very exuberant and entertaining. He watched for a moment, just watching you. Laughing as you told a story. He reflected to himself that he loved that sound. He'd only heard it once before... When Clint had done something behind Tony, he hadn't seen. But he loved it. Just the joy of it. He beamed. He couldn't hear what you were saying exactly, but it didn't matter. The animation in your face looked so much better than when you were so numb and frozen.

You felt someone watching you and turned, looking. To see Thor there and beaming. At you no less. It took less than a moment for you to be out of your seat. "Thor!" you shouted, leaping into his arms. Your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He caught you, chuckling as you kissed him soundly on the lips. He clutched you to him, sliding a hand over the roundness of your bottom, tangling his fingers in your hair.

The others stopped, staring. Bucky was the first one to recover his voice, "Damn it. Why does no one ever greet me like that?" Sam snorted, "I tried that once, and you dropped me." Clint glanced at Natasha, and she discretely palmed him a $50 bill, "Alcohol." she snorted.

Thor broke away from you, grinning. "Missed me?" he teased. You tasted like fruity alcohol and smelled like home. "Very much," you say, blushing when he swatted your ass. He lifted you like you didn't weigh anything and seemed quite willing to stay that way for a while. His eyes were warm, and he captured your lips in another kiss.

Everyone was staring, and you couldn't even care. He was here. And so very beautiful when he smiled. "My Valkyrie," he chuckled, "you are very drunk." You shrugged and grinned at him, "And?" The god of thunder kissed your nose and threw you over his shoulder, marching towards the bar," I would like to join you." You squealed, starting to giggle and he swatted you again before sitting you upright on a stool. "Another drink for Lady Y/N and a tankard of Ale for me please," he said to the bartender.

You leaned back against him, and he kissed the top of your head, "I'd love to have you wrapped around me again later this evening." he murmured against your ear, making your cheeks burn. "Maybe," you say, trying to tease and hide the fact that your stomach was twisting its self into knots. Thor chuckled and kissed the curve of your bare shoulder lovingly, happily oblivious as he started his drink.

Steve leaned against the bar, zippo lighter in hand, "Show me how to do the thing." he demanded of you.

Thor quirked an eyebrow, "The thing?" he asked. You snorted and took the lighter from his hand. It flew between the fingers of your hand, faster and faster until it was open and ignited while your other hand still rested on the bar. "How?" Steve asked, incredulous. "Practice." you say, "15 years of it... More or less." Steve shook his head and picked up the lighter to try. Thor watched and kissed your shoulder again, "A nice trick." he chuckled, where did you learn it?"

You shrug, "Mom was in a band. I spent most of my childhood... Before I was a lab experiment traipsing after her through bars like this." Thor frowned at you calling yourself an experiment and tightened his arms around you reflexively. The tone in your voice warning him not to tread too deeply into those waters.

The god swept hair off the nape of your neck to kiss it, and you wiggled to situate yourself where you could watch the others. Dive bars all smelled the same, you thought. Stale smoke, spilled beer, polished wood. It was a whole other life ago, but you still felt yourself looking for your mom. It felt like she’s just pop up with a guitar and a new band any moment. You wondered if she was still alive. If she looked for you. The others were talking and laughing. Playing games. Thor engaged in lively conversation with Bruce. Always near you, close to your side. It felt good to have him back. You watched the two men chat, smiling slightly. They were engrossed. So you wandered off to join Cap, who was watching Sam and Bucky play pool.

“Hey, Sunshine,” Cap said offering you a seat. “Hey,” you say punching him lightly on the shoulder. “He’s not your usual type,” he teased gently, rubbing his arm as if it had actually stung, “but I approve. He seems thoroughly smitten. You deserve that.” You bite your tongue to keep from protesting, and Steve pats your forearm, “Trust me.” he said fondly, “Us lab rats have to stick together, right?” You smile a little, remembering the conversation where you’d said something similar. It had inadvertently given you and Steve and Bruce, and Natasha, and Bucky a Trivia team name. Steve took a drink from his beer, and for several minutes the two sat in companionable silence. The soldier was good at that. Knowing when not to talk. You thought it must be a warrior thing. Thor, Bucky, Sam, Nat, Steve, Clint... they all knew when to stay quiet. It was an underrated talent. When you excused yourself for another drink, Steve watched you walk away; he also watched Thor’s whole face soften as he pulled you into his side so he could just be near you. That was all he needed to know right there. The god would love you for as long as he lived.

Thor had seen you sitting with Steve, and he wondered what you had talked about. He wasn’t jealous. He knew that Steve wasn’t that type of man, but he just needed to know. He could sense the shift in your mood, and he just wanted to know. He watched you order a drink and took a moment to admire your backside. He’d not seen much of your body. In fact, hardly any as you covered most of your self at all times so far as he had seen. What he had felt though, had felt made for pleasure. Made to be worshipped. He hadn’t been merely teasing when he voiced that he wanted her wrapped around him in entirely another context. In the back of his mind, he still felt your legs on his waist. Bruce snorted, “Easy, Thor.” The god smiled a little, “Do not worry, Banner,” he said, “I would not harm her. Not knowingly by word or Deed.” Banner nodded, “That’s good to know. She’s dear to all of us.” Thor beamed, “A singular lady, she is.” Bruce turned to order a water and turned back just in time to see Natasha kiss you on the cheek and brush hair from your eyes. It was sisterly and whatever she was teasing you about made you burst out laughing as it made your cheeks color. Bruce rolled his eyes and smiled, “Whatever is about to happen can’t be good.”

Before anyone really knew what was happening Natasha had your drink in her hand, and you were very standing in front of a wall. Thor looked at Bruce in askance, and Bruce sighed. “Why. Why the fuck is THIS the field sobriety test?” He’d just barely gotten it out when you were running headlong at the wall. Thor gasped involuntarily. At that speed, you would seriously injure yourself. Or at least you would have had you not parkour’ ed yourself into a backflip off of the said wall. You took a bow, Enjoying the applause for a moment before reclaiming your drink and giving Natasha the finger. She grinned and stuck her tongue out at you as you walked away.

Bruce sighed, “What will you do when you CAN’T run up the wall?” he teased. “Die?” you say shrugging. “Or at least temporarily break me.” Thor pulled you into his lap and kissed you, “No breaking.” he said sternly. Bruce snorted, “You should see that she can do on a tight rope.” You laugh at the confusion on the Asgardian’s face, “After I was rescued my Mom’s family took me in.” she said. “They have a circus. I learned acrobatic stunts.” Thor beamed, “You shall have to show me!” You shrug, “Sure. I’m not the greatest but... It does help me get out of the way in battle. I’m not really good at combat magic.” Thor kissed your free hand looking like he’d quite like to do more than just kissing and you feel your cheeks blaze. Bruce coughed and made his way over to Nat just to get out of the way. He did not need the mental image that the look on Thor’s face was inspiring.

Thor could feel himself harden and tried not to groan. Or squirm. “You, look delectable, Y/N” he murmured against your neck. Your stomach twisted again, and Thor pulled away slightly, feeling the tension in your body. “Y/N,” he said quietly, “please, what can I do?” You hide your face in his shoulder. Protecting your face and your eyes from him. Thor let you hide gently stroking your back, humming tunelessly. He could feel you, and you felt like heaven. Warm. Soft. He wanted to spend hours giving you pleasure. To feel you in bliss all around him. But only on your terms. He had time. Aside from that, the longer he waited, the better you would feel. The more he understood of you, the better to give you pleasure. “I’m sorry,” you whisper against his sweater. “ “Don’t be sorry, my dearest.” he murmured. “You don’t owe me your body,” he said. “Let me take you home. Let me hold you until morning. That’s all I need until you’re ready.”

You look up at him, blush blooming across your cheeks, lips parted slightly. “I am drained, I had a long day trying to bury myself in work so that I wouldn’t go crazy missing you.” Thor kissed your forehead, “Well then, my Valkyrie, allow me to take you home.”

You hardly remember getting home. But you do remember the feel of warm, calloused hands on your back and the feeling of sleeping without even the hint of a nightmare for the first time you can remember. True to his word, pajamas stayed on, and his touches were sweet. Not meant to arouse but to comfort. Thor himself struggled to sleep, not that he really wanted to. He tried to memorize every detail of your face. He didn't want to sleep for fear that having you in his arms safe and sound was naught but a dream. When you do wake, groggy and with a headache, Thor is asleep. Handsome and disheveled you lean down and kiss him softly before easing out of his bed and going in search of coffee.

The others who are awake tease you making you blush and stammer that nothing happened making Tony nearly spit out his coffee, “Wait. What?” he half shouted in disbelief, “You mean to tell me that Y/N and Goldilocks are hooking up and no one told me? Ridiculous.” You know Tony is teasing. But it still stings. Casual affairs aren’t your style. You retreat mumbling that it wasn’t a hookup, going back to your own room to shower and change. You need to move. Suddenly you need to run. In your haste to leave you miss Steve hurling a wad of paper at Tony and telling him to shut up.

Thor rolled over in his sleep, searching for you. When he finds warmed bedding instead of your warm body his eyes open, and he sighs, disappointed. He’d been hoping to get some sleepy kisses, but then, you’re an early riser. A product he supposed of how little you tend to need sleep. So he pulled himself up and went to take a cold shower. Partially to wake up and partly to master himself before he saw you again. He’d meant what he said. He couldn’t bear the thought of having coerced you into his bed in any way. You would come to him willingly he knew, you just needed time. The kiss you greeted him with in the bar had made that quite clear. Once he was dressed, he made his way downstairs. He blushed slightly at the stares he was getting, “Okay.” Tony said, “I’ve been told I can’t call it a hookup, so what exactly did happen?” Bruce thudded his head on the table and groaned, and several others sighed in exasperation. Thor only raised his eyebrows, “I do not know why you think you need to know what happened between Lady Y/N and me, but I assure you, my intentions are honorable.”

Tony sighed, “Fine. Don’t tell me then.” Thor fixed his coffee and caught Clint’s eye, nodding slightly to acknowledge the other man’s assessment of him, “I won’t,” he said, “She is a lady and her private matters are her own.” Coffee fixed Thor strolled out of the kitchen, whistling. It was indeed satisfying to thwart Tony’s disrespectful inquiries. The man was incorrigible. Still, he hadn’t been lying when he had said his intentions were honorable. So he followed his instincts and went to a training room. You always hit a training room after your coffee. The god Paused at the entrance, watching you.

Your face was stormy, and he could practically feel the temper radiating off of you. He suddenly wished he’d punched Tony in the mouth. He made himself comfortable against the wall, watching. You moved with a natural grace and speed. From a distance, he would make out much of your form. Yoga shorts and tank tops were a gift. Supple and soft but healthy. This was the first time actually seeing you in less than full coverage. His heart raced a little faster, and he bit back a groan and a curse. So much for mastering himself. He wanted to join you on the mats, but he held himself back. He knew you’d work until your muscles trembled with exhaustion. It helped when your mind raced, and your emotions roiled. He also knew the impulse was selfish. He really just wanted to touch you.

You didn’t see Thor. Distracted by your own thoughts. Plans for your day, things to be done. As you got closer to him reaching for your towel, you were still lost in thought. Until you heard a sharp intake of breath. Out of habit you wrap your towel around yourself and turn away. Your body is scarred. Ugly. Not worthy of the man sitting against the wall. You shrink into yourself, hoping to get past him. Cover yourself. But Thor is quick. He catches you, turning over your arm to see the inside of your wrist. Scars that never healed right run down the inside of your forearm.

You aren’t really sure how they got there. You just remember the blood. You were maybe 11. In despair. Hopeless. You would have done anything to make the pain stop. Thor doesn’t say a word, he simply pulls you to him, “My Valkyrie.” he murmured, “Please don’t pull away.” You can’t help it. You feel naked. You feel exposed. Tears start flowing as the panic rises in your chest. Thor just holds on, crooning soothing things at you, letting you cry until you’re spent, a rag doll in his arms. When you start to sink to the floor, your strength gone, he drops with you. Holding you. He kisses every scar he can reach. You are a warrior. “I am not worthy of you,” he said. “But I will endeavor to be from now on.” When you don’t speak, he lifts you, cradling you carefully and takes you to his room. Something feels better when he holds you. Something soothed when he didn’t flinch away from you. When he wasn’t repulsed.

Thor sets you lovingly on his bed and goes to his bathroom, turning the water to a comfortable temperature, he intends to pamper you. Soothe you. Show you that there is no part of you he can’t love. He returned to you, removing his own shirt and kneeling in front of you, “Let me give you my love?” he asked, “Let me show you the way a Queen should be treated.” He squeezes your hands and smiles. So earnest and loving that the last of your resistance fades and you nod slowly, carding your fingers through his thick blonde hair. He kisses you tenderly and carefully begins to undress you. Mindful of every scar, kissing them as he uncovers them.

Aware of every bit of tension he feels in your body. There are no words. Only actions. Kisses and Caresses until there is no more fear of what he might think. Once you’re bare in his bed, every inch of you exposed and vulnerable, he removes his trousers. You swallow hard. Thor is not your first sexual partner but... he is the most beautiful. The trail of pale hair down his belly is just begging to be kissed, and you bite your lip. Thor beams and lightly strokes your calf. He can’t help but be pleased with the heat in your eyes. He holds out his hands to you, inviting you to come with him and you do. You need to touch him. To be touched by him. He’s the first lover you’ve ever had to make you want them. Everyone else made lust a chore. An obligation. Under his touch, you feel more than you’ve ever felt and damn it if you don’t want more.

Under the warm water, Thor turns his attention to pampering you. The way he touches you is not overtly sexual. But it is pleasing none the less. Warm, calloused hand slide over your wet skin and ease away the mornings hurt, drowning them in other more comfortable feelings. You can feel his arousal. The hardness of him but he doesn’t seem interested in letting you touch him. Not yet. He seems intent on making sure you never doubt how much he adores you. Kisses flutter across your breasts and playful squeezes on your bottom when you sigh in want. You can feel your clit throb, and you want to beg him to touch you, but you can tell from his calm manner that he won’t not until he’s reduced you to a puddle of lust and physical need. “Thor,” you say softly. His name murmured like a prayer.

The god stops for a moment and catches your lips in a kiss that makes your knees go weak. When he pulls away, he looks into your eyes. They’re violet. The same shade as Amethyst stones. He grins at you, lust naked in his eyes. “Please,” you hear yourself say. And no more words are necessary. He knows. He can feel the need in you, and he lets you stroke his arousal gently so you can feel that he needs you too. He dries you in a warm, soft towel and then sees to himself before carrying you to his bed. “I want you astride me,” he said roughly. He wanted you in control. He wasn’t sure if he could be restrained enough to go at a comfortable pace.

He lets you straddle his hips, and you blush when he cups your ass in his massive hands, making him chuckle. Aside from that, he’s still letting you adjust as you slowly slide down onto him. “Fuck.” he gasped, “Oh, Y/N. This feels better than I imagined.” Your cheeks flame and you stifle a moan as you feel him fill you. “Let me hear you, my Valkyrie.” he pleaded, and you lean forward to kiss him, nodding. The kiss is searing. It makes him groan and tighten his grip on your bottom. And when you start to move on his prick, the feeling is intense. He pleads for you not to stop and you moan, begging him for more. So he reached between you, stroking your clit. All he needs is to see you climax. To feel you in bliss before he goes over the edge. And you do. Crying out for him and pulling him to you desperately. White rose petals drifting down on the bed all around you. Your bliss sends Thor into a climax of his own, and he bellows, burying his face in your breasts, panting.

When you carefully move off of him, you look at the white petals, blushing furiously. That’s never happened before. Thor picks one of them out of your hair and studies it, grinning at you, “Rose Petals, Y/N?” he said, “I thought I was supposed to be giving you flowers.” You cover your face with your hands mortified, “I... That’s never happened before.” you say. “Well,” Thor declared, pulling your hands away from your face gently and kissing your nose, “I rather like it... Love it in fact. I shall have to make it happen again.” And then he kissed you, and there was no more embarrassment. Only helpless giggles and he endeavored to do it once more.

#thor x reader #Smut #Fluff #Angst #Suicide mention #Self harm mention #female reader #Thor #long post #OotT

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crewhonk · 6 years

Text

A Sign

In which Steve takes advice from how fellow avenger, roomate and best friend Y/N rolls with the punches after a huge life changing event.

Warnings: swearing, break up, angry steve

Words: 2.1K

AN: dedicated to my best friend who’s shitty boyfriend broke up with her.

_____________

You and Steve had been friends since he had surfaced from the ice. You had met at the gym and had been transfixed by the way he seemed to be filled with so much rage— enough to destroy the gym on most days. On days he was in a better mood, he would only tear apart one or two sandbags. He was a gorgeous human— pure strength and agility and the turmoil of his mind gave him this dark and powerful vibe.

You had approached him one day— it was a bad day. One of the benches was snapped in half and another mirror looked as if it had been hit with a twenty-five-pound medicine ball. His shoulders were shaking, and his hands were in his hair, head lowered and defeated. You approached him from behind your place at the reception desk, offered him a pocky stick with a smile and a shrug and the rest was history.

You had been best friends for the following four years, getting an apartment with him in Brooklyn (which he paid for most of, much to your displeasure) and even getting a fish together. Even Sharon, who had stapled herself in Steve’s life was something you shared. You had become friends with her while she lived across the way, and the three of yours relationship developed into something that Steve never thought he would be able to have. He hadn’t been angry in a long time— no benches snapped, no mirrors broken, no bloody hands and more importantly no raging Steve.

Until July 22nd, 2018 when Steve came home, slammed the door and stormed to his room without so much as a hello in your direction. You heard several loud crashes from his room, followed by angry, heart-wrenching sobs and then silence. You knew Steve would want to be left alone— he was less of a human when he was in this situation, and you knew that if it meant neither of you got hurt in the process, you would check on him at a better time.

It was about nine later that evening when Steve shuffled out of his room, expression one of half shame, half devastation as he walked across the kitchen to where you were sitting against the breakfast bar and leaned into your shoulder. He nuzzled his way into your hair and just breathing you in— your scent was one of the most calming things to him and over the past four years, it was one of the only things that grounded him.

That was another thing about your relationship— it was an intimate one— not in the sense that you both fucked like rabbits, but in the sense that you made up for the 80 years of isolation and lack of affection. Sharon was okay with it when she was in the picture, hell, she would often take pictures of the two of you being each others person. Like Okoye and her love of Wakanda, Steve had you and Bucky as his number one priority. You and Buck were the things that came first in Steve’s life. Over America. Over Sharon. Over Captain America. Over everything. You were Steve’s Wakanda, and nothing would ever take precedent.

Maybe that was why Sharon had broken up with him. Maybe it was his undying faith in humanity even after the fall of SHIELD and the events of Ultron and the mass shootings. He was a golden retriever in a human body, and Sharon was just a person.

You turned in your seat and pulled him to nestle between your thighs and tilting your head to the side to allow him to nose your collarbone. Your hair intertwined through the long blonde hair on his head and scratched his scalp slightly.

“You okay, Cappy-Tan?” You asked. He hummed against your neck and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in.

“Why am I not good enough?” He whispered, tears leaking onto your neck and sniffling lightly. He thanked all the Gods out there that your scent was so soft and comforting because without either you or Bucky he wouldn’t be here today.

“Wait, Steve what did you just say?” You asked, straightening your posture and a bite in your voice.

“Why am I never good enough. I give, and I give, and I give and I get nothing back. I save the world, and I treat everyone like they’re royalty and I am never good enough.” He said, choking on the lump in his throat and squeezing your waist tighter. At a loss for words, you simply wrapped your legs around his thighs and pulled him closer to you.

“Steve. You are so good. You deserve someone who is going to give you the world, and it sucks that you haven’t found your person. You deserve the fucking world, Rogers.” You whispered into his neck, kissing it lightly. He let out a small whimper into your neck and you only shushed him softly, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck and swaying slightly.

“Take my mind off of it, please?” He asked, pulling back and looking down at you. You smiled, and your eyebrows pulled into an expression of sympathy at the way he looked so broken. His lower lip was moist and trembling, and his eyes were swollen and red. His hair was dull and flat and there seemed to be new wrinkles on his face that made him look worn and tired.

“Wanna go to our spot, Captain?” Your hand caressed his scruffy face and he leaned into it, kissing your palm and nodding quietly.

“I can’t be Captain, today Y/N. Please, I’m just Steve.” He whispered and you nodded, wiping a tear from his face with your thumb. Captain America was the only facade Steve could bear without showing vulnerability and with the bags under his eyes, he seemed to be tired of putting off that damn strong front.

“Okay, Steve. Let’s go.”

__________

The crack of the dusty bowling pins was almost music to Steve’s ears. As was the sound of Bucky, Sam and Natasha’s laughter joining yours as you rolled the five pinball through your legs and watched anxiously as it snapped off the bumpers and into the third one on the left. You jumped up and down when your luck gave you a spare and you playfully stuck your tongue out at Sam who cried out that you were using your powers to cheat.

“That’s not how Gravity works, Fly Boy! You’re just pissed you can’t throw a bowling ball to save your life!” You teased hip-bumping Bucky who grabbed the small ball with his flesh hand.

“No metal arm, RoboCop!” Sam shouted, sipping his beer and winking when Bucky flipped him off. Natasha handed you your fruity drink and you took a huge gulp from it, smiling over at Steve who was drinking out of a flask of Asgardian mead. Thor had given it to him when he found out what had happened with Sharon and Steve had taken with a bittersweet thank you.

While he seemed to be beaten by life, you had always taken life with a smile and a roll of the shoulders. Every breakup, and every fight, and every small misfortune had yet to break you and he truly admired your strength. He wanted to be like you one day, and as you laughed at a joke Nat yelled over the music. Your teeth glowed in the black light and the brightly colored lights danced across your gorgeous skin. It was littered with imperfections and light scars and deep scars and there was a way your rugged looks entranced him tonight. Maybe it was the beer. Maybe it was the lights. Maybe it was the way you bopped your head to the 80’s music he hated so much. Maybe it was the half-shy smile you shot his way, and the brief ‘you good’? Towards him. Maybe he needed to start to learn from you now. He was tired of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and he just wanted to enjoy the second chance at life he had been given so many years ago.

“Hey, Bud. You good?” Bucky kicked the side of Steve’s foot and offered him one of the flasks which he took gratefully.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Steve shot him a half-fake smile and stood, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans and grabbing one of the balls. It was an easy strike— they only put on the bumpers for your and Bucky’s sake. He held his arms out to his sides and turned back, jokingly walking with too much swagger in his steps and bowing low when the four of you burst into cheers. He cracked out a cute and clumsy dance in his slippery shoes and walked over to you. He sat down next to you and you clutched your beer nervously in both hands, looking down at it while he looked at you.

Your eyelashes fanned over your beautiful cheekbones and your hair was falling over your face. Your soft bottom lip was tugged between your teeth and god if he didn’t want to take a nip himself.

No, he should never think about you that way. Not now— not the day he was dumped by his long-term girlfriend. You weren’t a rebound because you were so much more than that. His hand reached over to yours and pulled it from the glass while brushing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“What’s up?” You asked, finally looking up at him and letting your eyes flicker from his lips to his eyes and back.

“Nothin’ much. Just hangin’ out with the cutest best friend around.” He joked back, flipping your hand over and tracing the lines of your palm. You resisted the urge to take your hand back and scratch the tingling feelings away because he was so close and he smelled so good and wow.

“Bucky’s over there, Gramps.” You pointed your chin in the soldier's direction, watching as Sam was teasing him relentlessly at the way he was trying so hard to figure out Instagram.

“You’re so funny, Doll.” He said after a fake laugh. You only rolled your eyes and laughed as Natasha spun around three times and chucked her ball right over the bumpers and into the gutter.

“Scary assassins drunk bowling. Never thought I’d see the day.” You mused.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah Stevie?” You asked, looking up at him through your lashes. He sucked a breath in at how utterly beautiful you looked in this moment.

“I think I’m really happy that Sharon broke up with me today.” He muttered, not looking away from your deep eyes. Your pupils dilated and a pretty peach blush spread over your cheeks, you looked down at his lips once more, and he swore that if you did that again he’d just have to kiss you.

“Why’s that?” Your voice was quiet, but Steve could swear that your voice was the loudest thing in the world at that moment.

“Because I must have been overlooking that person who has given me everything for as long as I knew them. And maybe, when I figure out how to live without Sharon I can pour all of my love into them.” He smiled down at the way your lips parted slightly. His hand pressed against the side of your neck, the weight of it grounding you as his lips pressed softly to your forehead. It sent a warmth through you and you shivered happily.

“I’m sure they’ll be waiting when you’re ready.” You kissed his chin briefly and his cheeks flushed a deep red.

“Let them know that I’m more than grateful for them and their patience with a one-hundred-year-old.”

“He’s waited long enough for someone to love him more than the world itself.” You grinned at the way his eyes darted down to your neck, up to your lips and then into your eyes. “Its time the world waited for him to heal.”

“Hey, Issac Newton. Stop being all lovey with your man and bowl already!” Sam howled to you, as you blushed heavily and flipped him off. You squeezed Steve’s hand once more and shot him a smile before taking the ball and rolling it down the lane.

Strike.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers headcannon #steve rogers headcannons #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x bucky barnes #steve rogers x tony stark #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #steve rogers series #steve rogers angst #dad!steve #alpha!steve

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areyoureadyforsomemeatballz · 6 years

Text

Home for the Holidays?

Summary: A certain set of super soldiers let it slip that they haven’t had a proper Christmas since before they went to war. You find this unacceptable and decide to fix it- summer be damned.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2200

Warnings: Swearing. A small amount of angst followed by all the fluff. Sexual references.

A/N: Yes, I realize that it is the middle of summer. I couldn’t resist festive Steve and Bucky, sue me! Let’s just call it Christmas in July, Hallmark Channel does it, right?! Let me know what you think, I love to hear from you guys!

“James Buchanan Barnes! I swear to god if you splash me again, I’ll come over there and kick your ass,” you threaten from your lounge chair.

His head pops up over the edge of the pool. “You’d have to catch me first, sugar.”

Steve approaches and plops into the chair with you. He passes over the margarita in his hands. “You guys are children,” he laughs and pulls you on to his lap.

You take a sip of the fruity cocktail and set it on the side table. “Baby, I love you to pieces but it’s too hot for this,” you say as you press a kiss to his neck. Steve and Bucky share a look over your head.

You hurdle toward the pool, still locked in Steve’s embrace. The feel of the water against your skin sends the air from your lungs. “I hate both of you,” you splutter as you make your way to the shallow end and settle on the step.

“You looked a little warm, baby doll. I’m worried about your wellbeing,” Steve says with a shit-eating grin on his face.

He swims toward you and settles on the step next to you. He reaches out and pulls you on to his lap, once again. “This is the reason I have trust issues, Steven.”

You notice other members of the team entering the pool area. A smile spreads across your face when you see Thor. He is wearing a tiny pair of black swim shorts that you recognize immediately.

“Thor, what on God's green earth are you wearing?” Steve asks sounding scandalized.

Bucky’s face is the color of a tomato as he ducks his head beneath the water to avoid the conversation.

A wide smile spreads across Thor’s face as he eases into the cool water of the pool. “It was a Christmas gift from Natasha and Y/N. Is it not appropriate, Steve?”

Steve’s blush is even deeper than Bucky’s. “No, no it’s fine it just caught me a little off guard.”

Thor turns to continue his conversation with Sam. This gives you a perfect view of his backside, and the two candy cane hearts, one on each cheek.

Steve elbows you in the ribs and you roll your eyes at him in response. “I saw you looking too, Stevie.”

Bucky makes his way over to you and pulls you from Steve. “She’s right doll, you were staring.” Steve pulls a face at this ready to defend himself.

“Best. Present. Ever,” Natasha says as she slips into your unoccupied chair, picking up your drink. “You’ll have to get a set for these two this year. I could definitely see you guys in camo print.”

You practically salivate at her suggestion. “That is a great idea Natty, why didn’t we do that last year?”

“I wasn’t here yet,” Bucky murmurs.

You wrap yourself around him and press a delicate kiss to his hairline. “Oh, baby. You’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

“It’s alright, you and Stevie have given me the best couple months that I could’ve asked for. ‘Sides, Steve hasn’t had a proper Christmas since 1944, either.”

You raise your eyebrows at Steve and his face falls. He wraps his arms around Bucky and pulls the two of you close to him. “It never felt right without you, Buck. I put myself on missions during the holiday season to distract myself since I got out of the ice. But, with the two of you, I wouldn’t mind having Christmas this year.”

“Why wait?” you question.

“What do you mean, doll? It’s only a few months away.” Bucky says.

“Who knows where we’ll be in six months? The world could be ending! I say we celebrate now, it’ll be perfect.”

You pull yourself out of their arms and out of the pool. “The two of you coming?” They stare up at you in shock. After a moment they scamper out of the pool behind you.

☼☼☼

“Doll, I don’t think we thought this through,” Steve says looking out the window of the passenger seat. “They don’t even look open.”

You put the borrowed truck in park and turn back to look at Bucky, he’s curled up like a cat in the back seat asleep. “They’re not technically open, but the woman I talked to on the phone was very understanding. At least I think she was.”

“Do they even know that we’re coming? What do I even say? ‘Hi me and my amnesiac boyfriend haven’t had a good Christmas since the late 1930’s. Our girlfriend decided that we shouldn’t wait because of our deadly jobs. Can you point us toward your most perfect tree?’”

"That sounds perfect, baby. Don't worry once they see who we are and Tony's Amex card they'll be happy to cut down their most perfect tree, as you put it."

You squeeze into the backseat and shake Bucky awake. “Bucks, we’re here. Do you want to come to pick the tree out with us?”

He rubs his eyes and sits up. “I can’t believe that we're doing this,” he says, excitement clear in his voice.

The three of you make your way toward the picturesque house that is in the center of the farm. You knock on the front door and wait. You say a silent prayer that the farmers would be understanding. From the other side of the door you hear a woman call out, “Betts, you’re never going to believe this. The Avengers are on our doorstep!”

You spend the morning with the couple that owns the tree farm. They are more than happy to help you, telling you that the trees that they have for the coming winter are ready. While the boys are arguing about how to cut down the tree Bucky picked you step away to make a call.

“Tony, I need a huge favor.”

“Anything for you, sweet pea.”

☼☼☼

The drive back to the compound flies by as you doze off in the backseat with Steve. When Bucky wakes you up you drag the two of them into the kitchen. It has been stocked with everything you need for cooking and baking.

Wanda found some classic holiday recipes and her and Vision help the three of you make enough to feed an army. Bucky decides that he wants peanut butter blossom cookies. While, Steve picks sugar cookies, which give him the perfect canvas to ice. You bring up Steve’s record player from your living room and put on old Christmas albums.

Bucky swipes one of Steve’s masterpieces from the tray. “These look almost too good to eat, baby doll,” he shoves the ornament shaped cookie into his mouth anyway.

Steve scoops a glop of forest green icing out of the bowl in front of him and sweeps it across Bucky’s face. “Now you look good enough to eat, baby doll,” Steve copies Bucky’s Brooklyn drawl.

You smile at them from your perch on the counter as you read a text from Tony. The rest of the team are setting up the great room for your little celebration. “Guys, I need some help with dinner and then we can go decorate our beautiful tree.”

The rest of your afternoon is filled with soft touches and sweet kisses as the three of you cook together. Bucky has taken to Food Network after his return and takes over the roll head chef. You watch as he bastes the roast turkey with a sage and garlic butter mixture. He has his hair tied up and one of the aprons you bought for him is around his trim waist.

You turn to help Steve knead the dough for rolls. Your laughter echoes through the room as you flick flour into his beard.

There hasn’t been a time where the three of you had been so carefree since the start of your relationship. The stress of missions and saving the world can’t touch you in this perfect bubble that you had created. After finishing up the side dishes you take Steve and Bucky’s hands in yours and lead them toward the great room.

You hear their breaths hitch in their throats as they take in the room. The large room is filled to the brim with holiday odds and ends. Above the fireplace, there is a stocking hung for each member of the team. There’s snow falling outside, courtesy of Tony, Bruce, and some fantastic invention. The fresh cut tree is waiting to be decorated with authentic 1940s ornaments that Tony had bought from a collector in the city.

The two men behind you pull you into their arms, holding on as if they never wanted to let go. “How did you manage this?” Bucky murmurs, emotion taking over his voice.

“Santa always has helpers,” you smile up at him.

“Hey lovebirds, look up,” Tony calls from his place on the couch. Pepper elbows him in the ribs and gives him a warning look. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

Above your heads is a sprig of mistletoe. Steve and Bucky look at each other with misty eyes and share a heartfelt kiss. Both men then kiss you fervently in turn, each putting all their emotions into the gesture.

Steve clears his throat and looks away from you and Bucky. “Dinner’s ready when we are.”

Everyone rushes into the kitchen desperate to eat after being put to work all day. You hang back for a minute, still wrapped in Bucky and Steve’s embrace.

“I don’t know what we did to deserve this, Y/N. To deserve you.” Steve says.

Bucky makes a noise of agreement low in his throat. “This is better than anything that I could have imagined. For years I wondered why I survived. Why I had been destined to have such a shitty life. But, I get it now it was to bring me here, to the two of you.”

“We’re starving in here,” Sam shouts from the dinning room.

You hear a scuffle and a pained groan. “Let them have this, Samuel,” Natasha hisses.

With tears in your eyes, you take their hands for the second time and lead them toward your family. The meal is chaotic, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

The first thing you notice when you sit down is Tony at the head of the table throwing dinner rolls at each person. “It’s faster this way, trust me.”

He hits Thor in the head with one of the rolls and the blond decides to retaliate by flinging a forkful of roasted vegetables at him. Before a food fight starts Natasha smacks Tony in the back of the head, and she shares a smile with Pepper across the table.

“Pass the turkey, Barnes,” Sam whined.

Bucky glares at him. “Give me a minute. I’m not done yet.”

“You’re taking too long! I’m going to be older than you by the time you’re finished.”

Steve makes eye contact with you and you burst into a fit of laughter. Sam and Bucky will always find something to bicker over, no matter how inconsequential.

The remainder of dinner is spent sharing memories, most of which are embarrassing. Sam wiggles his eyebrows at you and you know what he’s going to bring up. “Remember when I found the three of you hooking up in that dingy bar bathroom right after you got together?”

You kick him underneath the table. “As I recall Sammy, you screamed like a little baby when that happened. The bartender almost called the cops because she thought someone was murdering you.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t embarrassing for us, bird brain. That was one of the best nights of my life,” Bucky says as he smirks at Sam. You feel his hand run up your thigh underneath the table.

Bruce snorts from the other end of the table. “Let’s keep it family friendly, kids.”

“I for one want the dirty details,” Tony says.

“In your dreams, Stark,” Steve says.

“I am engaged, Steven,” Tony says sounding offended. “I’m sure my fiancée wouldn’t be too happy with me dreaming about your sexcapades.”

“I’m good with it,” Pepper says.

“Kinky, Pep,” Tony beams at her. “You guys want to go watch a movie or something? We can decorate later, I need to let this food settle.”

“I vote Home Alone,” Thor says. “The main character reminds me of my brother!”

“Yes! That’s one of the best Christmas movies,” you say.

You all make your way back to the great room and spread out on the couches. You ignore that the air conditioner is running full blast to mimic winter temperatures and grab a throw blanket. The baked goods that you made earlier are spread across the tables in front of you.

The movie begins to play with you sandwiched between your two super soldiers. Life doesn’t seem like it can get any better than at this moment. Little do you know, that they are planning a proposal for you in the coming Christmas season. One that they hope you won’t refuse.

☼☼☼

#bucky x reader #steve x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #marvel imagines #reader insert #bucky barnes #steve rogers #christmas in july #avengers #stucky #Fluff #home for the holidays #ash writes

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nade2308 · 6 years

Text

Love lasts forever

Written for: stanclub2k followers milestone challenge.

Prompt: "Who hurt you?" with Stucky.

Pairings: Stucky (Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes).

Other pairings: Sam Wilson x Riley and past Bucky Barnes x Brock Rumlow

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Riley (minor appearance and mentioned), Tony Stark (mentioned), Natasha Romanoff (minor appearance), Brock Rumlow, Jack Rollins (mentioned), Alexander Pierce (mentioned) Barnes and Rogers families (mentioned).

A/N: Thank you @stanclub for organizing this challenge. It was fun to get another story out in such a short time. I wrote a part for this story last month but lost the inspiration for a bit. Then another story took over my time and I thought I'd have time to finish it. I never thought it would get past 3k (before ideas started pouring in my brain and discussing it with my friends was proving to spur my muse). In the end I have this story that's 9.3k long (the last three days were spent writing fervently).

Thanks to @lisamott9 and @82tweeder for the help and encouragement on this story.

...

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I need to meet more friends anyway. Tony’s advice.”

“Can’t believe I’m agreeing with Stark, but you really need to, my friend. Okay, Steve. See you at 8.”

“I’ll be there.”

Steve hung up and looked at the clock. It was almost 5 and he knew that if it wasn’t something really important, Sam wouldn’t insist on bringing his friend with him last minute.

The next 2 hours were spent in sketching and outlining a logo for his next project. Steve needed to figure out the colors and how to combine them. Scratching his head, he thought about asking Sam. He took a picture of the previous logo and one of his drawing, and put the sketch into his drawing folder, before he went to his room.

Steve never cared for his appearance, always opting for casual, but tonight he felt like he could dress up a little bit. He picked his favorite navy blue button down, and the new pair of navy blue jeans he bought last week. He also put on some of the expensive - overpriced - cologne that Tony gave him for his birthday, and Steve had to admit that the fruity smell was nice. It reminded him of his late mother’s lemon pie, God bless her soul.

He took his bomber leather jacket with him, put on shoes and locked the door of his apartment behind him.

…

Bucky was miserable.

Absolutely miserable.

On a scale of 1 to 10, he was a 15.

He was angry. And mad. For letting himself go back to Brock. For giving him more ammo to hurt Bucky. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Brock in the throes of pleasure, with another man in bed. Right now he was pacing like a caged animal and judging by Sam's glare, he was wearing thin Sam's patience and support. And Sam was getting frustrated because he repeated ‘Damn Barnes, you’ll wear a hole on the floor’ more than once. But he couldn't stay in one place. Probably why he agreed to go with Sam and his friend at the bar.

Sam really liked Bucky and hated to see him so bothered. As much as Sam tried to warn Bucky not to get back to his ex, love was blind and it wasn’t exactly Bucky’s fault for falling in love with the wrong person.

A heart doesn’t choose, Sam’s mom would say right before kissing his father in front of Sam to rile him up.

Sam smiled at the memory, but he was brought back to reality when he heard a noise in the kitchen. Sam stormed in the kitchen where there were shards of glass and spilt water on the floor. Bucky looked like he was on the verge of crying and Sam wanted to tear Brock piece by piece.

“Hey, it’s just a glass.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, just looked at the mess on the floor.

“Why don’t you go and get ready, Bucky? I’ll clean this up.”

“No, I’ll-"

“James, please.”

Sam rarely used Bucky’s real name, unless there was a point to be made. Looking at the red and swollen eyes of his friend, Sam knew Bucky got the message.

“I’ll go and shower.”

“You know what would be great? Run a bath.”

“Come on, Sam, I’m not in the mood to do that.”

“What you are at the moment, is in need to get yourself back to normal. You need to care about yourself for once Bucky. You need to see yourself before the others. Go and have a nice bath. Use your favorite shampoo. And just relax.”

Bucky stood for a moment, deep in thought, weighing his options. Then he nodded, wearily. Just having his favorite shampoo at Sam's and Riley's place said a few things about him. Like the fact that he spent lots of time there.

The buckets of Rocky Road in the fridge did too.

“Do you by any chance have that lavender essential oil?”

“Do I have-? Barnes, who do you think I am? Of course I do.” Sam always had the flair for the dramatic. But it pulled a smile out of Bucky so it was worth it. “You know Riley loves that shit after you hooked him on it.

“Not my fault the guy has taste, Sammy.”

“Call me Sammy one more time Grandma Barnes…” Sam waggled a finger.

“Catch me if you can, Sammy.”

“You little shit!” Sam called after Bucky but Bucky was out of earshot already. Laughing, Sam set the timer on the coffee machine to make coffee for himself and Bucky and went to clean the kitchen floor.

…

Bucky rummaged through cupboards until he spotted the bottle with the lavender oil. He ran the hot water to the temperature he liked. Then he applied a liberal amount of oil. Bucky eyed some candles and decided to light a few to help him relax more. When everything was set, he stripped in front of the mirror and looked at himself for the first time after the shit with Brock hit the fan.

He looked gaunt, his cheeks were hollowed out, sharper than ever, the smudges under his eyes a permanent fixture he never tried to hide. His eyes were bloody and red-rimmed. And his body… he looked horrible. He was never the one to have too much weight but where he had muscle and was lean, he was skinny now and the muscles were almost non-existent.

Bucky took a deep breath. Things needed to change

Letting his mind float while he had his bath, Bucky thought only of only one thing. Meeting Sam’s friend and getting hammered. Okay, maybe two things.

…

A mug of coffee waited for him when he got out of the bathroom.

“Sam, you are an angel.”

“For putting up with your sorry ass? I am a saint.” Sam jabbed from his place on the couch, watching reruns of a TV show Bucky never got to watch. Maybe he will now that he actually had the time.

Bucky parked himself in front of the tv himself, sensing Sam's eyes on him.

“You okay, Bucky?”

Bucky let the voices in the background tune out as he thought about Sam's question.

“I think that's a loaded question and you know it Sam.”

“I have time.”

Bucky sighed.

“You were right the first two times. Brock is a bad habit. I thought I could change that. Change him. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't ask anyone to change for me, but I think I wanted the old Brock to come back. And then I just deluded myself that he was not the person he is…”

Sam nodded in thought.

“I did some thinking. Well all I do these days is think,” Bucky laughed dryly, “but I came to realize that I should work on myself more. Not let the thing with Brock hold me back. Think I gave him enough of my time and life already. And I promised to myself, this time whatever happens, I come first.”

“Atta boy. That's the spirit.”

“If he cared for me half as much as I did for him, he wouldn't do it.”

“That's right.”

“I know what you'll say and you have every right to. But I… I don't know why I did it. Why I kept going back to him. God I'm a mess.” Bucky put his face in his hands.

“No. You are not. You acknowledged the problem and you are willing to see it go. You may not think that, and I blame that asshole for fucking up with your brain, but you are worth it Bucky. Worth to love and to be taken care of. So, good riddance Brock Rumlow.” Bucky smiled. Sam’s reassurance and support meant a lot to him and if it wasn't for him and Sam's boyfriend, Riley, Bucky didn't know where he'd be today.

“Not to mention, it'll take time Barnes. But you took the first and most important step. The rest will come along in its own pace. Just don't rush it.

“Thank you Sam.”

“You don't have to thank me. Now go. I picked you an outfit for tonight. It's in my room.”

Bucky laughed. Typical Sam.

…

Bucky was dressed in a plaid shirt and black tight jeans that Sam swore accentuated his ass. Bucky glared at him with Sam replying “you have to get it out there to be seen, hon” in his best imitating a woman voice. Then he slapped him on the ass.

Bucky giggled because Sam may have been a drama queen sometimes and knew how to get on his nerves, but he was a great friend.

They got at the bar a little before 8 and as Sam turned his head around to look for his friend Bucky felt like he was in a dream. He was faced with someone he knew a long time. A very long time.

Deja vu. But it couldn't be, could it?

Sam chose that moment to go and meet his friend. Which turned out to be Bucky's deja vu.

Bucky stood frozen on the spot when he saw the tall, blond man greeting Sam. It wasn't a dream after all. "Steve," Sam's voice sounds distant in Bucky's ears, "this is the friend I mentioned. James. But he goes by-" "Bucky?" Sam raised an eyebrow, looking from one man to the other. "I guess you two know each other then." Sam grinned like he just won the lottery. "Y-yes... Bucky is my childhood best friend." "Met this punk in a back alley behind the place where I lived as a kid. Turned out he lived three houses down from me." Bucky smiled as he remembered 6 years old Steve all skin and bones against the wall defending a boy his age from a bully. "We became friends. This jerk has helped me out fighting a few bullies himself." Steve smirked. Bucky smiled sadly as he continued the thread of the conversation. "Went to the same high school even. Then... We sort of parted ways when we went to separate colleges. Haven't seen him in a while." A while being 3 years. "Great to see you man." Steve exclaimed, happiness radiating off of him. He eyed Bucky with a nostalgic look and something that even Bucky couldn't understand. Bucky smiled, despite the feeling of gloom that was there since breaking up with Brock. Steve had that effect on people. Especially on Bucky. Steve was a balm to his soul. "Can we please at least get drinks from the bar and find a booth before you two eye fuck each other right here?" Sam rolled his eyes to finish off his statement. Steve sputtered and blushed, no one has joked about him and Bucky being in a relationship in a long time. They used to get that speech from everyone (even their parents) when they were teenagers. "We are not-" "Relax, Stevie, Sam is joking. Boy just wants to get this party started." "See this, Stevie, Barnes knows me better than you do." "Okay, okay. How did you two meet anyway? Ganging up on me. Bad, bad boys." Steve's voice was chiding but he was also smiling so it lost all effect. "I'll leave that story for another night." "I'll hold you to that." Steve said and sent Sam a warning glare. "Another thing you should know about Steve is, he's like those small pitbull terriers. When they get on to something, good luck with plucking them off of you." Sam shook his head, wondering what he got himself into. "Two shots of vodka, Sammy. That work for ya’ Steve?” Steve nodded. “It's settled then. We'll find us a nice booth." Bucky said and dragged Steve with him. "Get your own vodka, Barnes!" Sam's voice carried over even as he walked towards the bar. "Bite me." Sam turned to the bartender and ordered their drinks. "Swear I'm dealing with actual children. What did I get myself into?" "Friends can be goofs too." The bartender grinned and winked at Sam. "Two shots of vodka for the goofs then and for me... surprise me." The blond placed the shots in front of Sam and glared. "This better be the last time you try to flirt with me like we haven't been together forever Samuel." "I love what my flirting does to you, babe." "Get your ass off my bar Wilson and go join your friends." "When you finish come and join us?" Riley nodded and shooed Sam away. …

“How have you been Buck?” Steve used the first available opportunity to start a conversation.

Bucky looked at him, weighing the question.

“You mean like, right now or…?”

“I mean you, Buck. How have you been?”

“You want the blunt version or the sugar coated one?”

“C'mon Buck. You know me. You can tell me everything.”

“I… um… I ended up my relationship few days ago. So not the best? But getting there.”

Steve hummed in sympathy and his blue eyes never left Bucky's face. The Bucky he remembered was always a cheerful person, and everything about him screamed “confident”. But this Bucky? It was obvious that he was in pain and it wasn't just something recent.

How did they get to this point? They used to tell everything to each other.

"Who hurt you?" Bucky was taken aback by the question. He blinked hard and focused his eyes on Steve. The look on Steve's face was inquisitive but also caring. What did he do to deserve Steve in his life? "You seem like you are in pain, Buck. And there's not an obvious physical injury - and I could tell if there was one - so it's not that kind of pain." Bucky forgot that Steve was one hell of a perspective guy. "I'm right, then." It wasn't a question. "It's a bit complicated." "I have time." Sam chose that moment to join them with their drinks. "What have I told you about eavesdropping, Wilson?" Bucky sounded annoyed but used to, like Sam had done this before. "It just happened. And to answer your question Steve, because this goof won't ever admit it if he's hurting unless it's a stubbed toe-" "Sam..." "He hurt himself." "Sam, don't-" "This fucking idiot - and you are an idiot Barnes - let himself get back to his ex for the third time. And that vile piece of scum-" "Sam, please..." Now Bucky had tears in his eyes and Steve's heart did a weird thing. He wanted to punch whoever did this to Bucky. He would do everything for Bucky. It's been a long time since he felt like this for Bucky. Maybe he didn't bury those feels as deep as he thought. Steve was very protective of Bucky as it was but in the end he had to distance himself or else he would have risked their friendship. And as much as he wanted to see them together, the possible rejection by Bucky had Steve surrendering himself to a life without his best friend. And for a while it worked. But to listen that Bucky got hurt from his ex hurt Steve too.

Sam looked from Steve to Bucky and seemed to see something because he chose to not say anything else. He sat on Bucky's left while Steve came closer to Bucky's right. Steve could hear Winnie Barnes' voice in his head "see Sarah, those two have no sense of personal space whatsoever". "I'm sorry if it sounded harsh, but I just look out for you. You are my friend Bucky. Hate to see you hurt." "I know Sam. I know." Bucky felt at ease with both Steve and Sam by his side. He knew Steve longer than Sam, but Sam was a great friend - they both were - and Bucky was grateful that God sent them both at the same time to him because of the situation he was in. Bucky was aware that Brock was an asshole and that after the second break-up it was only the need to go back and have that semblance of normal relationship. They had something good going at the start, Brock wasn't so bad, but after a while everything changed. Bucky wasn't sure why he started crying. It certainly wasn't because he wanted to go back to Brock. But he didn't give himself enough time to heal after discovering Jack Rollins in the bed Bucky and Brock shared. It hurt and it stung. More than the previous break-ups. Steve saw something in that moment and maybe ingrained from years of being Bucky's best friend or maybe from just wanting to comfort him, but he moved at the same time Sam did. Call it instinct or coincidence. The hug was unexpected and if Bucky sobbed on Steve's shoulder in the process, no one had to know but him and Steve. And maybe Sam. It felt like relief, being held and comforted, for him to rely on someone instead of being the crying shoulder. Maybe he needed this outlet. "There, there." Sam drew soothing circles on Bucky's back while Steve held on Bucky tight. Steve didn't like when people were hurt, especially Bucky. And even then he always went out of his way to make him feel better. After a while Bucky lifted his head and looked at Steve, sniffling. "Thanks, Stevie. I'm sorry I'm a mess." "Don't mention it, Buck. Your mess is my mess, too. Want to tell me what happened?" "Maybe another time. You back to Brooklyn?" "Yeah. I think LA got enough of me already." "I'm glad." "Hey Steve..." "Listen Buck..." They both spoke at the same time and giggled. It was like old times, unaware of Sam rolling his eyes at them and leaving them to their own devices as he went to the bar to get more drinks. "You first." "No, Stevie, you first." "I was gonna ask... I haven't heard from you for a while and... um, you have the same number, right?" "No, I don't. My phone was stolen few months ago and when I went to get a new one... they said that they couldn't recover my contacts. If I'd known that you were a friend of Sam’s I would've asked him." "Don't worry. Now we found each other again. And I'd like to see you more now that I'm back. We have lots of things to talk about." "True." And certainly there were things you couldn't say over the phone. ... The rest of the night went smooth. The initial thought of Bucky getting hammered flew out of the window when he met Steve again. Catching up with his best friend was more important than alcohol and maybe that's what he needed. To talk and forget for a while why he was there at the bar. Now that Steve was back home everything looked easier. What Brock did to him was still there, it would still hurt, but with Steve beside him, Bucky found it could be bearable. Sam called it a night shortly after Riley joined them when his shift ended. Sam wanted to have some alone time with his boyfriend before Bucky decided to join them. "So, Sam and the bartender, huh?" "Yup. Don't tell me you didn't know." "I knew he had a boyfriend but never met him." "How did you two met anyway?" "In college. I minored and he majored in psychology. We stayed in contact even when I moved to LA." Bucky nodded and was wondering how they hadn't met before Bucky... He chased those thoughts away because he didn't need his gloomy mood to ruin the night. "The world is small." Bucky concluded. "Definitely. So, I have a suggestion. I assume you don't have your own place..." Bucky smiled. "Yes, you guess correct. The break-up didn't go well and I... I am crashing at Sam's ever since." "Well if you wouldn't mind, you can come stay at my place tonight? Give the boys some privacy." Bucky wanted to say yes. He really did. "It's not like we haven't had sleepovers before, Buck. Plus I have enough space. What do you say?" And how was anyone able to resist Steve when he asked them with those Bambi eyes? "Okay. I concede defeat." "My place then." "Your place." They both found out that Sam paid for everyone - and after an extensive torture (the taxi driver had to laugh when Bucky tickled Steve) - Steve admitted they may have talked about things when Bucky went to the bathroom. They finally arrived at Steve's place. It was... spacious to say the least. Bucky took it all in and gaped. "This is... amazing Steve." "Thanks. You wanna watch TV and order in or you want to go to bed?" It wasn't late, barely even 11.30 and Bucky certainly had nothing else to do on a Saturday night so he agreed on the offer. After a while he was relaxed enough to doze off. Food in his belly, the distant sound of the voices on one of the crime shows they played late at night and the warm presence of Steve. For the first time in the last week things were on the 'up' side. And waking up covered with the softest fleece blanket ever made was a nice bonus. …

Bucky found a note on the night table that read "See you later, had to run to the store." Bucky felt warm and fuzzy, both from meeting Steve again after so long, and because he was covered in this soft blanket that brought back memories from his childhood. Bucky stretched cat-like on the couch and sighed. The sun was up, and warmth spread in the living room of Steve's apartment. Judging by the note Steve wasn't gone long, but Bucky figured he could lounge a bit more. Steve was always the early bird, Bucky preferring to stay under the blankets for "5 more minutes, please Stevie". And being the night owl continued well into adulthood. Old habits die hard. Bucky let himself close his eyes again, relishing in the softness of the cushion under his head and the sun caressing his cheeks. He wasn't asleep, more like drifting off and thinking of him and Steve. When Bucky was 7 he met Steve in that back alley, trying to fight that bully kid for picking on one of his peers. Steve was 6 at the time, all skin and bones and a strong will. The numerous ailments didn't help him most of the time, Bucky remembered numerous days when he had to bring homework to Steve and tend to him. Sarah, Steve's mom was a nurse that sometimes took double shifts to bring home enough money so they could make a decent living. By the time Bucky was 8, the Barnes' had adopted Sarah and Steve as theirs. Bucky smiled as he remembered Steve becoming even more of a fierce fighter at school and back alleys. The moment he became a teenager some of Steve's medical conditions receeded. Not that you could do much about food allergies or asthma, but he got better. To everyone's joy. And about the time Bucky started to notice that he was feeling something more for Steve. Something that wasn't just friendship. Coming out wasn't easy. Bucky thought that Steve could tell Bucky had feelings for him, but then, Steve had known him for a better part of his life then and supported him in everything (no matter how stupid it may have looked at the time. Steve had a moto in life: you won't know if you don't try) and Bucky being gay didn't put Steve off. With time Bucky tried to quell on his feelings and desires. He felt guilty that he jerked off to the thoughts of his best friend, like he was dirtying up their friendship. And Steve was straight (at least as far as their high school discoveries went). Those internal struggles made Bucky stronger and soon he was able to blame his mood swings to the teenage hormones coursing through his body when in reality it was Steve going out with Connie, then with Bonnie and finally starting a relationship with Peggy Carter. The night Bucky learned about that was the first time he got drunk. And cried until he couldn't. Bucky opened his eyes when he felt tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He knew it was bound to happen - the trip down memory lane. After that, their friendship kind of fell to the backburner, Steve went on dates with Peggy and had little to no time for Bucky. Bucky used that spare time to bury himself in his school books. When Steve was 17 his mom died from cancer and even though it was a horrible event, Bucky had his friend back at least. Soon after, Peggy announced that she was leaving to go to college in London, back to her roots. A messy goodbye with lots of promises but Bucky knew nothing would come out of it. Something in Steve broke when Sarah died. Something not even Peggy could help fix it. Bucky sighed. He didn't need to think of the past. It was as it was, they went their different paths, he became a mechanical engineer and Steve went to art school. Then a job opportunity came at him when a renowned gallery from LA loved his drawings so much they asked for him straight away. And it turned out they weren't accepting 'no' for an answer. The second worst hangover Bucky had was the morning after Steve left for LA. It was a bit hurtful when Steve said to Bucky that night, that nothing tied him with Brooklyn anymore. Bucky wanted to yell at him that Steve had him to stay for. But Bucky could not ask that from Steve. It wasn't Steve's fault. And Steve deserved the best and not Bucky holding him back from what he could do once he got his wings. Bucky could move on. He'd done it before. The contact between them was far and few and after a while it was reduced to birthdays and holidays. Steve was always busy and after a while Bucky landed a job with Stark Industries so it wasn't like he could spare time. Then along came Brock. Something that started as a fling and ended up breaking Bucky's heart more than once. Bucky was sure he liked Brock. Maybe even loved him. Never as much as he did Steve but loved him nonetheless. Bucky couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when Brock started acting strange but he was more controlling, never showing too much affection and the periods after Bucky would break up with him until Brock came to ask for forgiveness were longer each time. Bucky tried to erase the image of Brock and Jack out of his mind, but he couldn't. He also knew their last attempt was a desperate cry for help, Bucky's for that matter but he thought he could make things work. Turned out that Brock was stringing him along the whole time. But like Sam said, 'good riddance'. Bucky took a deep breath and checked the clock. He was awake for total of 20 minutes. Steve should be back any minute. Bucky decided that taking a shower wouldn't hurt. ... Clearly the shower was not the greatest idea Bucky had because he forgot he had no clothes with him at Steve's. Luckily he had his phone on the counter. Embarrassing as it was he fired off a text to Steve. Bucky was glad they exchanged numbers last night. An answer came right away like Steve was already back. ‘Second door to the left. Guest room’. Bucky thanked his lucky stars and hurried off to get dressed. Steve developed physically while in high school but he apparently got more buff because the sweater and sweatpants were hanging on Bucky a bit. Or maybe he should hit the gym again and return to his normal weight and gain some muscle. Definitely worth thinking of again but he'd care more about it later. Now he had to face Steve. It smelled of cinnamon and bacon and eggs and toast and Bucky was drawn to the food as a moth was drawn to a flame. "Morning Princess. How was sleep?" "It was good. Really good. So, food?" "Always straight to the point Buck. There is bacon and eggs, toast with butter and cinnamon rolls." "Can I have all?" "Suit yourself. And I suppose both orange juice and coffee." "You know me the best Steve." They spent breakfast in a pleasant silence, enjoying their food. "So listen Steve, I had absolutely a great night and this breakfast is amazing but I gotta go." Steve's face fell and Bucky wondered if it was because he'd planned something for them or something else. "Uh, okay, but we'll see each other again, right?" Bucky nodded with a smile. "Now that I found you again, I'm not letting you go." Steve chuckled and that adorable dimple on his chin appeared. One of the many little things that Bucky loved about Steve. "I gotta work on a project for Monday. I've been slacking off ever since... and I want to get it over with." "It's understandable." Bucky was ready and by the door when he was pulled in a bear hug. He got lost in the embrace. Steve hugged like a koala clinging on a tree. "Still giving the best damn hugs in the world, Rogers." Bucky exclaimed. "I have to keep my reputation." "Thanks." "For what?" "For everything." "Don't mention it, Buck. Always." …

The next few weeks were spent in catching up. What Steve did in LA, other places he visited, his work and all the little details texts and calls couldn't cover. Bucky learned that Tony, his boss and friend was also Steve's friend. How the universe connected Sam and Tony with Steve without Bucky's knowledge was beyond Bucky. It was one week until Steve's birthday and both he and Bucky had a day off. When the offer came to spend the afternoon at Prospect Park and grab a bite afterwards was attractive enough that Bucky agreed immediately. If Bucky was honest with himself, Steve got him at food. It was a nice and sunny summer day. Bucky was enjoying the sun and the slight warm wind while Steve held his end on a small talk and sketching. Bucky always loved seeing Steve in his element. Nature always had that effect on him. "Hey, Steve?" "Hm?" "I wanna ask you something. You don't have to..." "What?" "What made you come back to Brooklyn? I like that you are here again, but it seemed like you were doing well at the gallery. Getting to create your own art. Be yourself." Steve closed his sketch pad and turned to look at Bucky fully. "Pierce, the gallery owner was a bit eccentric." And by bit Steve meant completely. "He was trying to convince me to try and change my style and I didn't want to. We bickered more than agreeing on things. Plus he led things his old fashioned way and for a while things didn't click. We had a big fight. We didn't reach an agreement. That's all." Bucky nodded and seemed like he was trying to understand why. Still something didn't add up. But he figured it was a thing they'd discuss another day. For now he just let himself enjoy the day with Steve. …

It was another month of texts and Skype sessions before Steve and Bucky had a chance to see each other. Stark made a deal with a company for new metal prosthetics and Bucky was the lead engineer on the project, being it his idea. He barely had time to see the inside of his home (he finally found a decent place at the start of August).

The time he got he devoted to Steve. Bucky didn't know if it was the few times he saw Steve or the fact that Steve was back in his life, but the feelings he had for his best friend started to resurface. Or maybe he was still healing and his broken heart clutched on every safe option. But in the end Bucky came to a realization that he always loved Steve. You truly love only once in your life and all that.

Seeing Steve so live and animated was worth every heartache. Bucky’s eyes were closing and he kept from yawning, only Steve's voice from his laptop speakers kept him from falling face first onto the keyboard. "So this client - she wants to buy this painting and she insists on the price that it's too high, when in fact the painting was not for sale. It’s decoration on the wall and we... Uh Buck, you okay?" "Huh? Wha?" "You look like you are tired." "That's because I am." Bucky couldn't stop the yawn this time. "Why didn't you say so? My thing can wait." "Nah, please go on. I am-" yawn "-awake." "Uh-huh. I can see that. Look, I have a day off tomorrow, so maybe if you can, we can go to lunch?" "Sure. Tony gave me 3 days off. We finally closed this project and he said I deserved a breather. To be honest, I planned to spend 2 days straight on sleeping." "You can still sleep and have lunch with me?" Bucky couldn't say no to that adorable Golden Retriever staring at him. Steve always knew when to use them puppy dog eyes and Bucky fell for them every single time. "Goof." "That means we'll see each other tomorrow, right?" "It's a date." The second those words got out of his mouth, Bucky panicked. He knew he shouldn't talk with Steve when tired. When tired or drunk, Bucky always said things he tried to keep locked inside. "It's a date." Steve grinned. That night Bucky lay in bed, unable to fall asleep. ... Steve was nervous. What should he wear? He knew it was just a lunch with Bucky. And with Bucky he didn't have to put up an image. Bucky had seen him at his worst and wouldn't care even if Steve appeared in sweatpants. But still, Steve was panicking inside for a bit because it was the first time Steve asked Bucky out. It felt like asking out. He was also afraid that he was too eager when Bucky said "it's a date" last night. Fact was, Steve’s feelings not just returned, but intensified. But he had to squash down on those hopes. No way Bucky could feel the same for him as he did for Bucky. Steve schooled his features as he saw Bucky entering in the restaurant. Once Bucky noticed Steve a grin lit his face. They hugged and sat down. "Hey there stranger." Steve joked. "I don't know who the stranger is here, Rogers." Steve had a quip ready when the waitress interrupted them with bringing the menus.

“I'll have hash browns.” Bucky concluded after a moment.

“I'll have the same, thank you.”

The waitress wrote down their order and retreated. They made small talk until their food arrived. Steve telling Bucky about his almost-sale yesterday and Bucky elaborating on the prosthetics he worked on. "I think that it will help vets and accident victims that lost their arm or both arms. It's this metal, vibranium, that gets shaped in the form of the other arm and there is a mechanism that will connect the nerve endings of what's left in the arm to the wires inserted in the prosthetic. You can move it and everything. It's still new, got the idea couple of years ago but started developing it last year. Tony thinks that we can start the trial period. I just have to figure how to make the vibranium lighter. Don't want the prosthetic to weigh more than what the other arm does and to cause more problems than solve them." "That's amazing, Buck. Truly a great idea. I'm sure lots of people can benefit from your research and the end result. Hope you figure it out soon." "Thanks. And the best thing is Tony - he made a deal with the VA in Brooklyn, that we'd give discount to those that can't pay full price for the prosthetic and in case the person is not able to afford it we'd give it for free. That's actually how I met Sam. He volunteers there." "That's wonderful and humble, Bucky!" "It's mostly Tony. My idea with his finances. I think that after he learned what his father's partner did with the weapons... He's trying to redeem himself for letting it happen in front of his eyes." "Yeah, I heard. Too bad it fall all on the Stark company and Tony as one half of the partnership." "Yes. But Tony did good on selling that company and starting his own. I was lucky to get the job when I did." "How did you come up with this idea?" "Curious as always..." Bucky sighed. "Remember that car accident I was in 2 years ago?" "Yes. Why?" "I might have... not told you the full extent of my injuries." "You what?" "I was seriously injured. My left arm was broken in a few places and my shoulder was moved out of the socket. It was a painful and slow healing process. Hurt a lot. What was the worst, for a while I couldn't move the arm. Had to do everything with one arm. So I thought, if I felt like this with my arm at least being attached to my body still - and possibility of getting it back to fully functional - how does it feel to those that don't have it anymore?" Steve looked like something physically hurt him. "I'm okay now, Steve. Don't worry. Have some scarring on my shoulder and chest from the surgery but I'm okay otherwise." "Okay if you say so. But - next time you tell me if something happens. Everything Whatever it is." "Deal."

“I mean it. Don't make me question you.”

“I give you my word.”

“Good.” …

Brock was watching Bucky and the blond with him closely for a while now, only seeing it was Bucky when Bucky laughed at something the guy with him said. Something in Brock stirred then and he got up from the table he sat on, alone. Jack gave him the boot soon after Bucky found them together and now he spent most of his days wandering around and eating in restaurants. Alone. When he saw Bucky it was like he struck gold. Brock decided to make his presence known by going to their table. "Well hello there, Bucky." Bucky froze and he dropped his fork. The loud clatter made Steve carefully place his fork in the plate and look at the man that joined them. Apparently Bucky knew him. "Buck, who's this?" Steve asked calmly. Bucky meant to tell Steve about Brock. He really did. But when their reunion happened it was a fresh wound, one that Bucky didn’t one to talk about. He just delayed the inevitable. Until he didn't think of it anymore. But seeing Brock in the same restaurant where he had lunch with Steve wasn't how Bucky wanted things to happen. And now Steve wanted to know who the guy was. "You are Bucky's new guy, huh? No wonder he ditched me last minute. And here I thought I did something wrong." "Brock..." Bucky didn't dare look at Brock. He was too shocked by Brock's words. "Did he tell you he tends to get back to me? He always does. Don't know what took him so long this time." "You and I both know I won't get back to you!" Bucky spat and finally looked at Brock. He could feel Steve's eyes on him. "We'll see about that. So, Bucky's new fuck buddy, nice to meet you. I'm Brock-" "Fuck off, Rumlow!" Bucky suddenly roared. "Get out! You have no right to come here and barge in on my lunch with whoever I want to go out." "I think that I actually do." "Excuse me?" Bucky heard Steve clear his throat but he was too busy staring at Brock, scared the man will try something. "Let's walk it out, buddy. No need to make a scene." "I am not making a scene, just wanted to-" "Let's walk it out." Steve punctuated the sentence with grabbing Brock by the arm and dragging him out of the restaurant and on the sidewalk. Bucky watched as Steve talked and Brock got more annoyed with every second. And then Steve swung with his fist and landed a punch square on Brock's face. The rest of the people at the restaurant watched in awe. Steve said something else and then got back inside. By that point Bucky started to come down from his shock and the brief adrenaline rush for speaking up to Brock - something he hadn't done before. It was a first and scared him. What if Brock came for him. What if...

"Buck?" Steve's voice sounded like from miles away and not next to him. "Bucky... pal, what is it?" It's only then that Bucky has moved his head to face Steve. "Yeah, Stevie?" "Are you okay?" "Yeah... I..." Bucky cleared his throat, but the unfocused look into his eyes still present. "I'm okay." Steve didn't say anything after that, but something told him that the guy interrupting their lunch was Bucky's ex. The way he talked about Bucky and assuming Steve was Bucky's "fuck buddy". Steve felt better for punching him. That will teach him not to mess with Bucky. "Serves him right, you know?" "What does?" "You punching him... he deserves it. He's a douche. I just can't believe how was I able to stay with him for so long?" "We can't order our hearts how to feel about someone Buck. It's over now." "But I was so stupid. God knows what shit he's been talking about me and I was with him- What he did-" "Hey," Steve put his hand over Bucky's on the table, rubbing soothing circles over Bucky's wrist, "You are worth more than what that asshole thought you were. You are strong and smart and pretty. You don't need him to feel better about yourself. Those that truly know you for who you are, would not give a damn about what he says about you. His words are a twisted sense of reality. And fuck his opinion on you. It doesn't matter to me Buck." Bucky smiled. It was just a lift on the corners of his mouth, but he smiled nonetheless and Steve counted that as a win. And then: "You think I'm pretty, Stevie?" Steve laughed and that seemed to break the tension.

“From all that I said, that’s the part you stumbled upon?”

…

Bucky poked at his hash browns, trying to finish his meal, but with not much of a success. Instead his eyes moved to Steve's right hand and the red skin of his knuckles. "I think you should put ice on that. It's gonna bruise." "I know. And I will." "Let me get it for ya'. And the check. I think I'm done eating." "Same. But you don't have to. I'll-" But Bucky was off like a shot before Steve finished his sentence. A little off balance but nothing that made Steve worry too much. Natasha, the waitress that served them had ice ready by the time Bucky reached the counter. She smiled politely and handed the ice as Bucky asked for the check. The least he could do was to pay - after what he put Steve through. He thanked Natasha and went back to Steve.

“Put this on your hand.”

“Once a worrier. Always a worrier.”

“I can't help it, Steve. It’s ingrained in me.”

“What do we do now?”

“Take me home? Please? I'm not in the mood for anything else than curling on my couch and watching TV.”

“I can do that.” Steve smiled and as a true gentlemen helped Bucky that was trembling slightly.

“You don't have to.”

“I want to. Where else could I be?”

“Dunno… somewhere.”

“Not leaving you alone, pal.”

Bucky smiled weakly.

“Okay.” …

Bucky placed the keys on the table next to the door and kicked off his shoes before plopping on the couch. Sam managed to find it on a garage sale and the thing was the most comfortable piece of furniture Bucky sat his ass on. It helped that it came in his favorite color - blue - and that there were two blankets and couple of pillows that came with it. "C'mere Steve,” Bucky patted the couch. “What do you want to watch?" "Whatever you want Buck." "Okay then." Bucky flipped through channels to see if there was something interesting and he stumbled upon a rerun of ‘Without a trace’. "Haven't seen this show in ages." "Me either." They settled against each other in comfortable silence and as the episode progressed and the FBI found that the girl lied that Dr. Sardo was her biological mother it was race against time to find them both. Bucky inched closer to Steve and placed his head on Steve's shoulder. Steve in turn moved his arm to envelope Bucky in a half-hug. As the episode ended and the credits rolled, Bucky sighed. "Steve, I want to tell you something." Bucky's voice was barely above a whisper and if Steve wasn't so close he would've missed it. "Yeah? What is it?" "I... about Brock. I know I should've told you before that my ex-boyfriend is... a piece of shit." "It's okay, Buck. You don't have to say anything if you-" "I have to. Because I came to realize that the real reason I was holding back was you." Bucky moved his head off of Steve's shoulder to look at Steve. Steve looked surprised, and his face was one big question mark. "I'll get to that... and I'll understand if you won't want to have ties with me after this." "What's wrong Bucky?" "When I," Bucky took a deep breath "when I first met Brock, he was great. Charming, lovely. Someone I could see myself being in a relationship with. He was attentive. Took me to dinner a few games. There were even dates that he whipped out of the blue. I worked at a hardware store before the Stark gig and he'd come there at night. Walk me home. I fell for him. Hard." It was difficult for Bucky to get it out. The way his life seemed to be on the upside one moment and the next it was a giant snowball rolling down a mountain hitting a tree. "It lasted for a while. Before he started acting strange. He worked as a security. Freelance. Started picking odd jobs, coming home bloody and bruised. I had to patch him up." Steve smiled sadly. "Sounds familiar." "Yeah, but that's where the similarities end. You always picked fights to help people that actually needed it. Brock picked fights for those with deeper pockets." "You said..."

“He worked as a security at first, yeah. But while he lied to me it was low security job I learned from someone close to Brock that he was actually roughing up guys that couldn't pay the racket a mob boss wanted from them." "Jesus." "I confronted him. He said it was a lie. I yelled. It ended bad. I left. After a week, he came banging on Sam's door at 2 am. Smelled of cheap booze." "God, Bucky." "He pleaded with me. He promised he won't do it again. I believed him." "Shit." "Yeah... And the second time. And the third. Don't know why... I used to tell myself that it's because people change so maybe he'd go back to that gentleman I fell in love with?" Steve sucked in a sharp breath. To hear Bucky loving someone else than him stung more than every scrape and bruise he got. "I'm not anymore. I think that seeing him today at the restaurant proved that to me. That I fell in love with him right when he started lying to me, and gave empty promises. I gave him so many opportunities Steve..." "What happened Buck?" "He cheated on me. With one of his buddies. I caught them in our bed."

“What?!” Steve was furious. He was ready to go find Brock and give him more than just a punch. "That motherfucker! Why didn't you tell me Buck? You know I... Hell, I wanna beat him so bad. How could he do that to you." Bucky chuckled and shook his head. "It's not worth it." "You are worth it. Everything." "Well he fucked me up. Made me feel like I am not enough for him. Because he found someone else easily..." "God, Bucky." "But, I'm okay now. And maybe, I like to think that what happened between me and Brock and meeting you at that bar - that it was fate." "What are you talking about, Buck?" "Promise me you'll hear me out before... Before you make a decision." "But I don't-" "Promise me?" Steve looked at Bucky. His eyes held so many emotions, and Steve couldn't read most of it. But something in his voice sounded important. Pleading. "I promise." "You remember when I came out?" "Yes." "Remember when I told you that this boy I knew made me realize that I am not straight. Girls didn't do a thing for me Stevie. But this boy - all the fire in his eyes and soul, the spirit. He was small, but with a big heart. The most beautiful golden hair and blue eyes. My best friend." Bucky closed his eyes tight. He wasn't gonna cry. He was not! "What...? Bucky?" "It was you Steve. The boy that made me realize I was gay, it was you. I've loved you since I was 15." "10 years?" Steve opened his mouth and when nothing came out of it, he closed it. Bucky opened his eyes. He willed himself not to waver, holding Steve's eyes with his. "I know what you'll say. You are straight, and I'm your best friend, but the only person I loved my whole life is you. I tried to bury it inside. It hurt so much. To see you flirt with one girl, then another. You may have been small but girls were all over you. You were my Steve but I had to share you with them." "Oh Bucky..." Steve was on the verge of tears himself. "Let me finish, please? Today's encounter with Brock made me realize that I could love again. Another person. But never as much as you. You'll be the first and last. And even if I never have you... I'll manage. I did well until now, right?" Bucky smiled and tried not to gasp as he felt his heart tearing itself on half. "The night you took Peggy on a date I got drunk. Cried so hard I made myself sick. Your mom... she found me in the bathroom, throwing up. Asked me what's wrong. I felt so wrong. So dirty. But I had to tell someone." Steve blinked rapidly but to no avail. A tear slid down his cheek. "She... she told me it's not wrong. And that you loved me too. But I knew that she was just trying to make me feel better. I was a mess." Bucky took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I put all of this on you. Really am. But it's been a long time and the last few months just proved to me that I can't keep it inside anymore." "That's why you looked like a kicked puppy the night I left for LA. When I said I didn't have anything else to tie me to Brooklyn anymore." Bucky nodded unable to speak. "Buck? Look at me." Bucky did. "I wasn't entirely too honest with you about why I returned to Brooklyn. Part of the reason was the disagreement I had with Pierce. The other part... the stronger pull - this person that will always have that effect on me... you Buck. I came back for you." Bucky choked on a sob, unable to hold anymore. It was a rollercoaster of a day. "I've loved you since forever Buck. I thought you'd never see me as more than your best friend." "We are idiots." Bucky managed to choke of before he tried to calm his breathing and wipe tears clumsily. "Yes... I guess we are." ... Another rerun of "Without a trace" ended as Bucky snuggled deeper in Steve's embrace. After they cried their souls out, they cleaned up and returned on the couch. Bucky was not able to do much more than sit and take it all in. He did something brave today. He confessed his love to Steve. And to know Steve felt the same... it was too much. Bucky needed time to process it all. For now he was content in Steve's embrace, listening to his heartbeat. The breaths that came like short gasps evening out. He could stay like this forever. "Buck?" "Hmmm?" "Can I kiss you?" Bucky figured that with all cards open between them both it was the least they could do. "Yes, I'd like that." Steve moved his hand from Bucky's waist. Carding his fingers through Bucky's hair his hand rested on Bucky's jaw. Bucky tilted his head, smiling Steve met him halfway through. The second their lips met, Bucky felt electricity coursing through his body. God, did Steve know how to kiss. Licking at the seams of Bucky's lips, Steve probed with his tongue as Bucky opened up and let Steve lead the tempo. It all ended too soon but Steve needed to take a breath before he kissed Bucky again. Bucky melted. The second kiss was even better than the first and if this was the beginning he couldn't wait to know how the rest of Steve's kisses would feel on him. "I love you Buck." "Love you, Stevie. I think it's long overdue." "Yeah. But we have all the time in the world. I'll never get tired from saying that I love you." "Me either." Steve's stomach decided it was the perfect time for it to growl. They both laughed. …

Eating take out lead to more kisses and a makeout session on the couch. It was like neither Steve nor Bucky could get enough of the other. Bucky suggested they move to the bed. Steve raised a questioning eyebrow and Bucky whacked him with a pillow then told him he planned on full on cuddling with his boyfriend. Similar to that night at Steve's when Steve borrowed Bucky some of his clothes, Bucky gave Steve sweatpants and a t shirt that he deemed good enough to pass for sleep wear. Steve looked at the t shirt that had a picture of koala on it. He smiled softly. "What?" Bucky enquired. "Nothing... just remembered that obsession you had with stuffed bears as a kid. Well bears in general." "I still do..." Bucky blushed as he changed himself in a t shirt that had a polar bear on it. "Where are they?" "I... didn't take much when I moved out with Brock. Now that I think of it, I don't know what he's done with my stuff." "We can go get them together. In my opinion, if there's still some part of the person he was before all this? He hasn't touched anything." "Thank you, Steve." "Always." ... In the morning Bucky woke up with Steve draped all over him. One look at the man he gave his heart to, long before today, and Bucky felt warm and fuzzy, full of life and love, a new hope on the horizon.

Bucky got all that he wanted and needed right there with him. And it was enough.

...

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