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#make sure his feelings are returned before giving himself fully to that person (steve. that person is steve)
witchsickness · 2 years
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so it can’t be argued at this point that billy is queer coded but do you think the same can be said for steve?
steve read as very much heterosexual to me up until billy came along and immediately i was like, aww poor steve. the mean hot blond from california has got him all confused lol, he rly stood no chance
wait hold up. billy’s gay?!??????
steve always gave me the impression of someone who doesn’t particularly care about the person the mouth is attached to, as long as it gets his dick wet. he gets off on attention. on the knowledge that he can have anyone he wants, because everyone wants a piece of hawkins’ golden boy. i don’t think he cares too much whether each night’s puppet-on-knees is a dude or a chick. it’s a high proving he can get both
except, like all highs, he gets more and more immune to it, until nothing’s able to scratch that itch. all the faces become a blur. i know that’s not a popular opinion, but i can’t actually see steve in a committed, long-term relationship. at least not at this point in his life. he’s b o r e d. it’s no fun when everyone’s drooling for him before he ever looks their way. and THEN 
billy comes into the picture. and billy wants him, right? obvious from space. except. billy wants HIM. all of him. the insecurities and the loneliness and the venom and the moments when the crown is off. won’t give in until steve signs all of him over first. and it drives steve mad, because so far the king steve shtick was enough. suddenly, enough is nothing less than all of him. every single part. the good and the bad. steve, cracked open and poured in a bowl for billy to whisk and prod and bake into something solid. it’s the promise of a constant challenge. his match. and steve is entranced, hook line and sinker
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caplanbuckybarnes · 8 days
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Drinkin’ Problem (Steve Rogers One Shot)
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Summary: Steve gets as drunk as he’s able after the loss of you.
Warnings: Alcohol abuse, angst, sad Steve
WC: 754
Read on Ao3!
Drinkin' Problem - Midland
The bar wasn’t much, just a small, dimly lit hole-in-the-wall where nobody asked questions. Steve preferred it that way. It was one of the few places in Brooklyn where he could be alone, even when the place was packed. The regulars had learned to give him his space, and the bartender—an older man with a gruff demeanor—knew better than to make small talk. He just poured Steve’s drink, slid it across the counter, and moved on.
Steve swirled the whiskey in his glass, watching the amber liquid catch the faint light from the jukebox in the corner. It was an old machine, playing country tunes that Steve wasn’t all too familiar with, though they fit the mood. Right now, Drinkin' Problem by Midland was crooning through the speakers, its slow, mournful rhythm syncing perfectly with his thoughts.
They call it a problem, I call it a solution…
The lyrics hit harder than they should have. Steve wasn’t drinking because he liked it. Hell, he could probably go days without touching the stuff if he wanted to. But it wasn’t about the whiskey. It was about *her*.
He took a long, slow sip, feeling the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat, dulling the ache in his chest—but just barely. He’d thought he could handle the pain. After all, he’d survived wars, fought gods, and saved the world more times than he could count. But nothing prepared him for this. For the silence. For the emptiness that swallowed him whole when she was gone.
It wasn’t just her. God, she was a wound that had long since scarred over, even if it never fully healed. But this…this was different. She’d been real. Present. Someone he could’ve built a life with. The life he’d been trying to live in the shadows of being Captain America. But she was gone now. Another casualty in a life full of them.
He could still hear her voice in the quiet moments, the way she’d call his name with that soft laugh of hers. The way she’d lean into him when the world felt too big, too heavy. She’d been his anchor, the one person who didn’t see him as just the man out of time or the symbol of freedom, but as Steve. Just Steve.
Now, all he had left were the memories—and the whiskey to help him live with them.
He downed the rest of his drink, feeling the warmth spread through him, numbing the edges of his grief. For a moment, he thought about leaving the bar. Heading back to the empty apartment that waited for him. But what was the point? The silence there was worse than the noise here. At least here, the clinking of glasses and the hum of the jukebox kept him company, even if they couldn’t fill the void she’d left behind.
Another drink appeared in front of him. He didn’t remember asking for it, but the bartender knew his routine by now. He nodded in silent thanks, lifting the glass to his lips. The whiskey went down smoother this time, or maybe he was just getting used to it.
The song switched, but he barely noticed. The world outside felt like a blur, distant and unimportant. His life had always been about the mission, about fighting for something bigger than himself. But now, what was he fighting for? What was left? The world moved on, as it always did, but Steve Rogers was still here, still stuck in his grief, drowning in memories of the life he’d almost had.
The bar began to thin out as the night wore on, but Steve stayed. He wasn’t ready to face the real world yet. Not without her. Maybe not ever.
He lifted his glass once more, staring into the amber liquid like it held the answers he was looking for. It didn’t. But at least it helped him forget, if only for a little while.
“They call it a problem,” he muttered to himself, echoing the song, “but I call it a solution.”
The bartender caught his eye from across the bar, offering a knowing nod before returning to his work. Steve wasn’t sure how much longer he’d stay here tonight. Maybe just one more drink. Maybe not. But tomorrow? Tomorrow he’d be back.
Because the truth was, this wasn’t just about the whiskey. It wasn’t even about forgetting. It was about holding on to what little pieces of her he still had left.
And for now, that was enough.
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avengerscompound · 1 year
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The Recruit - 31. Clint
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The Recruit - An Avengers Fanfiction
Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //
Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Sam Wilson x F!Reader
Word Count: 2289
Warnings: smut (MMFF bisexual threesome.  Somnophillia, oral sex, anal sex)
Synopsis:  When Sam Wilson is set up on a blind date, he doesn’t expect anything to come from it.  He is already in a relationship after all, and not just with one other person, but a whole group of them. You never expected to end up working for the Avengers let alone be dating six of them at the same time.  Now you’re balancing a new job, a new romance, new friends, and a secret that could destroy a lot of lives if it got out.  It’s a tricky balance to get right at the best of times, but when something happens to Steve Rogers it’s up to the people who love him most to get him back.
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31. Clint
Clint’s return to consciousness was slow and a little confusing.  He’d been dreaming, he knew that.  In the dream, he lived on a farm with you, Steve, Sharon, Sam, Natasha, and Bucky.  They had a dog and one of those furry cows with horns.  Natasha had just told everyone she was pregnant and everyone was so happy, but then it had gone from that to being in bed.  He was fucking Bucky, the other man bent over the edge of the bed and gripping the sheets so hard they were tearing under his fingers.  Clint had a hand bunched in his hair and was pulling it back as he thrust hard and deep into him.  It was a weird dream for Clint.  Usually, when he had sex dreams he was the one being fucked, among a whole myriad of other things.  The thing that really stuck with him, even as the real world started to bleed into it, was how detailed Bucky’s back was.  He could see every corded muscle and every scar as if it was in high definition.
It began to fade, but that feeling of him fucking something didn’t.  He rutted his hips and let out a soft moan, but it wasn’t until he felt the sting and burn of someone entering him that he woke fully.  He cried out at the unexpected intrusion, his muscles clenching hard and his hips bucking forward.
Steve had his arm wrapped around Clint and his forearm braced against Clint’s chest.  “There’s my little cock slut,” Steve growled against his ear.  “Relax and take it.  You know this is what you were made for.”
Clint’s eyes rolled back into his head.  He couldn’t think straight.  Those words coming from Steve somehow sounded more wrong and taboo than anything else, which just turned Clint on even more.  He mewled and willed himself to relax and Steve pulled him back down onto his cock.  Both you and Sharon stirred and sat up, looking around blearily.  “What’s going on?” you asked.
“Just taking care of our little bird,” Steve said.  “If one of you gets on your back, I’ll make him take care of you too.”
Sharon leaned in and whispered something to you. Your eyebrows knit together and you give a small nod.  “Okay,” you said.  “But we don’t have a lot of time.  I need to arrive at training before any of you, and you’re going to the medics.  Right?”
Steve made a sound against Clint’s ear.  It was almost imperceptible but it was close to a growl.  “Yes.  Right after,” he said.  “Just a morning quickie.”
You rolled on your back, and Steve manhandled Clint so that he was on his knees between your legs.  While Steve’s cock pushed in and out and ground deeper than Clint had ever taken him, not once did he pull out.  Clint mewled loudly as he was wrestled into positions and he gripped your thighs, putting them over his shoulders as Steve shoved his head down onto your cunt.  
Clint was having trouble focusing on anything outside his immediate vicinity.  He had this vague sense that Sharon had straddled your face and if he wasn’t so completely fucked out of his mind, he was sure he’d be enjoying the view right now.  He licked and sucked at your cunt like his life depended on it.  All the while Steve pounded into his ass.  Hard jolts of pleasure were punched into him, right up his spine and rippling out through him.  His cock bounced up and down with each snap of Steve’s hips, making it slap against Clint’s stomach, smearing precome on his skin and sending little droplets of it splattering onto the sheets.  He wanted so badly to touch it.  To wrap his hand around his shaft and pump it until he painted the sheets, but he was too busy bracing himself against you as it felt like Steve was trying to split him in two.
He was so dazed, that when your orgasm hit, it took him completely by surprise.  You arch your back up and your hips jerk up, hitting him in the face and making him feel even more dazed than he already was.  He pulled back and shook his head like he was trying to clear it and watched as Sharon climbed off your face and crawled around beside him.
She rolled on her back and wiggled under him and took his cock into her mouth.  Clint cried out loudly, his whole body shuddering as he tried to hold it together.  “Please,” he begged.  “Gonna come!”
Steve’s hand pushed into Clint’s hair and he dragged his head back.  “Come,” he ordered.
That’s all it took for Clint to completely fall apart.  His balls pulled tight and his whole body shuddered, and he released straight down Sharon’s throat.  She gagged and pulled back, swallowing what she could while the rest spilled down her lips.
Steve grabbed Clint’s hips and he picked up the pace.  All Clint had the energy to do was hold on to you and let Steve use him.  You played with his hair as Steve railed into him and with a roar, Steve shoved in deep and came hard.  He could feel the pulse of his cock inside him as he filled him.  “Fuck…” Clint moaned.
Steve pulled out of him and patted Clint’s back.  “I’m gonna shower,” he said.
Sharon said something to you, but Clint wasn’t sure what.  She then got up and followed Steve.  You played with his hair and he looked up at you completely dazed. “You have to go for a run soon,” you teased and Clint started laughing breathlessly. 
“Don’t remind me,” he whined.
“Sharon said she’s gonna stick with Steve and make sure he goes down to the infirmary,” you explained.  “We can lie here while you get your bearings but we should really go eat and then shower.  I need to look like I came down from my room.”
Clint nodded.  “Just a little longer, okay?”
You nodded and leaned down and kissed his forehead.  “You got it, babe.”
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Something was wrong.
Steve and Sharon hadn’t stayed for breakfast, so he’d had food with you and then you’d both showered.  You’d gone down to the gym first and he’d followed a little after with Lucky.  It was a weird start to the morning, but nothing felt completely off.
It felt off now.
Sharon and Bucky were late.  Sam seemed to be expecting them and he kept checking his watch.  He wasn't the only one.  Everyone in the gym was getting antsy.  Around the time a few of the reception staff came over to ask if they could pat Clint’s dog, Sam seemed to give up.
“Okay, we're running late, let's get going.  You know the way,” Sam called.
Clint took another look around as he made his way outside with the group.  Just as he left the gym he saw Sam pull Hill to the side.  He whispered something to her, and she nodded and veered off the elevator.
That wasn’t particularly reassuring, but he knew he had to keep up appearances.  He made his way outside and started running, Lucky’s leash clasped in his hand as he jogged along with the dog.  Lucky had gotten a lot better since the day Clint had brought him home from the vet, and he’d been joining him on these morning runs for a while now.
Clint wasn’t focusing on his dog right now.  He was too caught up in the potential repercussions of what was keeping Bucky and Sharon.  He was sure it must be something to do with Steve.  What if they'd found something really bad?  Did Steve have a brain tumor?  Could he even get a brain tumor?
Clint slowed his pace, trying to fall in line with Sam.  You passed him with a group of the other recruits, glancing back at him with your eyebrows knitted
It was fairly common for Clint to wish that they weren’t so secretive about their relationship when they were down at training.  He supposed it wouldn’t change much.  Steve had this bug in his bonnet about being professional, and Clint supposed that it would probably make a lot of people uncomfortable if the group were being all touchy-feely in the middle of training.  But he couldn’t pretend that the idea of stealing kisses and touches at work did turn him on.  It wasn’t just that though.  He would like to be able to kiss people goodbye in the hall without worrying about secrets.
That feeling had only been compounded since you had joined the group.  At least with any of the others, he could go up and have a whispered conversation and no one would question it.  He was able to wait for Sam and speculate on where everyone was.  That was harder to do for you.  You needed to be careful about people seeing you getting too cozy with any of the Avengers.
Sam caught up to him and pulled up beside him.  “What’s going on?” Clint asked. 
“I was going to ask you,” Sam said.  “You were with Sharon and Steve last night, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, but they left together to take Steve to the infirmary,” Clint said. “Sharon said she’d come down once she was sure he was going through with it.”
Sam frowned. “Well, maybe Bucky and Sharon decided to stay and keep him company.”
Clint nodded. “Yeah. Maybe that’s all it is.”
Sam patted him on the shoulder. “Let’s not worry, unless we need to worry.”
That was easier said than done.  Clint kept running, encouraging people when he saw them struggling, and when he got back to the tower he grabbed a bottle of water and shared it with Lucky.  Hill was already down waiting for Sam and they had a hurried conversation that Clint watched with eagle eyes.  He tried reading their lips but he was only able to pick up random words and none of them were particularly helpful at understanding what was happening.
Sam stepped up onto the platform at the end of the room.  “There won’t be any circuits today,” he called out.  “Everyone return to work.  Recruits, stay put.  We’ll let you know where to go in a moment.”
Everyone started heading out of the room except for the Avengers and some of the higher-up agents all gathered together.  Clint went to the group and squeezed in between Wanda and Natasha.  “Alright, everyone,” Sam said, in a hushed voice.  “Cap’s gone missing.”
There were shocked murmurs in the group and Sam held up his hands.  “I know, I know.  This is what we know.  He’s been off since that mission where HYDRA got their hands on him.  We’d convinced him to take an MRI and Sharon Carter was escorting him down to make sure he checked himself in.  Sergeant Barnes found her unconscious in the elevator.  He’s gone in pursuit.  He’s known Captain Rogers for the longest and he hoped he might be able to work out in what direction he might have gone.  In the meantime, we all need to track him down.  He’s not himself. He’s attacked one of us.”
Clint’s heart was beating so hard it was difficult to hear Sam over it.  He couldn’t believe this had happened.  Steve had attacked Sharon?  There was no way!  Even this version of Steve that wouldn’t attack one of them?
“Clint and Wanda,” Sam said, making Clint snap his attention to him.  “You both stay with the recruits.  Take them through some circuits maybe or do some drills.  I don’t know.  Keep them busy.”
“What?” Clint said. “No.  I want to go help find Steve.”
Sam sighed. “Alright everyone, go do what you do best.  If you hear anything, I’m the first person you tell.  Clint, one moment.”
Clint huffed and walked to the side of the room.  “Look,” Sam said. “I know you want to help, and fuck I know you’d be able to.  But our girl is over there and she’s probably freaking out.  I’ll message you when we know anything.  And I mean anything.  And you can tell her.  Okay?”
“Why don’t we just send the recruits home and she can come with us?” Clint asked.
“You know even if we do send them home, she can’t come with us,” Sam whispered. “This isn’t ideal.  None of this is fucking ideal. Something really fucked is going on with Steve and I don’t know what to do.  I’m going to go out for a fly with Rhodey and Tony and we’re going to see if we can spot him.  In the meantime, I need you to watch out for her.”
“Fine,” Clint huffed. “But if you hear anything…”
“I’ll text you,” Sam said, and his tone turned gentle.  “Promise, babe.  Anything…”
Clint took a risk and rubbed Sam’s arm, frowning as he did.  He took a deep breath.  He needed to get it together.  He needed to be strong for you.  He wanted to help find Steve but this was where he was needed.  You needed him.
He walked over to where the group of recruits were milling around talking with each other.  Wanda stepped up beside him and he clapped his hands. “Alright, kids,” he said. “I know you’re all wondering what’s going on.  But for now, we have work to do.  Let’s head down to the shooting range.”
You looked at him, raising your eyebrow.  He offered a small smile knowing it wasn’t going to be enough to set your worries at ease.  He would fill you in when he could later.  For now, he’d do his best just to distract you and hope that was enough.
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// NEXT
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rei-ismyname · 3 months
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Heir of Apocalypse #2 better be playing fair with my heart.
I have thoughts about Heir of Apocalypse #2. They're full of spoilers so here's a cut.
All media is in conversation with what's come before to some degree, and X-Men comics made just after the premature and rushed ending of the boldest and most cohesive period ever - the Krakoan Age - even more so. Even if it's not textual or intentional that relationship is there.
One of Krakoa's great challenges was finding ways to work with the central conceit - full resurrection of mutants - to create stories that had stakes. When nobody can die it can be easy to deflate tension. For the most part they succeeded admirably, but I can't help but wonder how From The Ashes will handle death in a world where we pretend it's permanent.
I'm not going to completely recap, notes in dot points are easier to digest.
- The action picks up smoothly where it left off. Everyone is introduced and Genocide, a character I don't know very well, has invited himself and is destroying a town. Everyone has agreed to put the tournament on hold to rescue civilians.
- Even Armageddon Girl, who does not give a fuck about humans. In fact she is a mass murderer at this point. Good for her, it just seems a little out of character. Genocide's 'toxins' are harming the Earth, sure whatever.
- Speaking of characterisation, what is up with Exodus? If he's returning to his pre-krakoa 'nonsensical crusader' characterisation then what's the point? A lot of excellent work was done to make him a fully rounded and sympathetic person, a hero even. He was dismissive of humans but you could see his position. He would not kill Monet needlessly and he wouldn't be so blase about it. Also, he's been on the Quiet Council with Emma Frost for at least 3 years in-universe, though it's implied to be longer. They were a voting bloc post-Inferno and he respects her. They've worked out how to communicate with each other and they fought skyscraper sized Monsters together on Judgement Day.
So WTF would he say 'the harlot is right' referring to her? He knows her name. If I was being generous I'd say it's in response to her calling him a fanatic, but it doesn't read that way. Immortal X-Men established that as almost a fond nickname ('my little fanatic') so I am very sceptical of this misogynistic term seemingly out of nowhere. If I'm not being generous at all I'd guess that Steve Foxe is going off a 'judgy fundamentalist' template and doesn't have a good handle on Exodus' voice. One moment he's aloof and above it all, the next he's accidentally killing another mutant (literally against his faith) and shrugging it off. It's stripping away what makes him interesting, his pathos. Moving on from Krakoa is one thing, but moving a breakout character backwards feels like erasing it. I'll come back to this.
- Sinister's voice feels right. He's very obviously depowering AG and Exodus, though I am suspicious that Exodus would even let him get close. Sinister was kill on sight for Exodus and Rasputin IV the last time we saw. Literally nobody should trust him even a little bit right now. Why did Apocalypse even invite him?
- Apocalypse, buddy. So we're acknowledging that he lives on Arakko but regressing him to his 90s characterisation? In his After The Fall one shot and X-Men Red he completed his character arc and concluded that survival of the fittest was not enough. Surviving means nothing without thriving, he said. I'd like that followed up on, but I fear he's torturing people needlessly and then Arakko will go away. I'm reserving judgement for now but this should be written by Al Ewing.
- I'm getting the impression that the conversation with Krakoa is one sided. It feels like it's almost making fun of it? Where is Bei The Blood Moon? She's married to Doug and he's here in this ridiculous tournament. Armageddon Girl is basically a supervillain, 'poor Lin Li' feels odd. These people all have established relationships that grew over the last 5 years. The 'hero clique' sticking together feels determined to ignore that, especially when they're acting like they don't know these people.
- 3 deaths.
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fanfic-scribbles · 3 years
Text
Crash Pad
Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers
Summary: You’re just minding your own business when the Winter Soldier crashes into your life. Literally.
Quick facts: Romance – established past Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes leading into Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes/Reader – Nondescript Reader
Warnings: Fluff, slight mention of blood
Words: 7801
A/N: I started writing this a few months ago and almost finished when my life got fairly shook up. Still, I’m quite proud of being able to eke out an ending. For anybody who only cares about this story, feel free to skip this note, but for anybody following my other stuff: writing is going to be slow for the time being. My mom died and things are pretty topsy-turvy right now. Writing is still a comfort, but head to hands isn’t working the same right now. Thanks for your patience; I hope this is a pleasant read for you in the mean time <3
  ~
 You’re getting ready for bed and have just turned off the living room light when you hear a clatter on the fire escape. You haven’t gotten over to shut the window yet and you wince at the thought of maybe coming face to face with a giant rat, or a raccoon, although you haven’t yet seen a raccoon and you’re pretty sure they don’t live in the city but it would probably be better than a rat the size of a raccoon–
What you get is much, much worse as a fully grown man falls through the curtains, knocks over a side table and potted plant, and crashes onto your living room floor with a wheezed (but emphatic), “God damn it!”
You freeze, unsure of whether to run or yell or maybe both. However the man flounders on the floor, unable to otherwise move much as he holds his side and– is that blood on your floor?
“Are you okay?” you ask despite everything.
He yanks his head back to look at you and grimaces. “Fuck, I–” He tries to get up, slips in what you are almost positive is blood, and slumps over with a little sigh and a handful of muttered curses that might be in another language. “I am really sorry about this,” he says lowly, like he's embarrassed to be bleeding out in a stranger’s living room. Then he shifts a little more and moonlight gleams on his arm. His very…shiny…completely metal arm, and you find a whole new way to be concerned.
You should have known the reasonable rent was a goddamn trap.
You take a few steps back, barely avoid hitting the counter, and flick the light back on without taking your eyes away from the man on your floor. He squints at the brightness and shows you a face that is, both fortunately and unfortunately, familiar. Fortunately because Captain America and the Avengers somehow got him pardoned for potential war crimes and treason even without him being present for any of that circus of a trial. Unfortunately because…war crimes. And treason. And that is definitely blood.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts out and looks a little woozy. “There were sheets– I thought the building was empty.”
“The sheeting is for the building right next to us,” you say and sigh. “I’m going to guess you are not in favor of me calling an ambulance?”
He just blinks at you a few times. Maybe he is secretly a raccoon.
“Please don’t,” he says, some life returning to his eyes, and he looks you up and down. The rubber duck pajamas must put him at ease because, while he is still tensely holding his midsection, his shoulders relax a little. “I’m so–”
“Sorry, yes, I know.” You point at the bathroom. “I’m going to get the first aid kit and hopefully I won’t have to explain to the coroner’s office why Captain America’s boo bled out on my floor.”
You’re just opening up the cupboard that hopefully contains at least some band-aids when he calls out, “What the hell is a ‘boo?’”
~
Two old t-shirts, one and a half rolls of dusty gauze, and his own homemade stitch kit later, the man is finally all patched up. “How are you not passing out from blood loss?” you ask, eyeing the mess on the nice hardwood that has definitely just lost you your deposit. But there’s no corpse to deal with, so at least things aren’t as bad as they could be.
“I’m built pretty hardy.” He sits up a little more and groans. Before you can beg him not to split his side again, he extends his hand. “James Barnes. But you can call me Bucky.”
You shake his hand (gently) and tell him your name. “Do you let everybody call you Bucky, or just the people whose floor you bleed all over?” Something moving catches your eye and you sigh at the sight of your inexpensive (but still nice) curtains blowing slightly, showing off their new stains. “Floor and drapes…”
“I’ll clean it,” he says. “I can get blood out of anything.” He winces. “I…that sounds worse than it is.”
“I imagine getting blood out of anything is a good skill for an international spy-assassin to have,” you say.
Bucky scowls. And, you think, blushes a little, though how he has enough blood to do that you don’t know. You look at the spot again. It looks big to you but maybe you’re making a fuss over nothing. No, wait, there’s still dried blood on your floor. You’re allowed a fuss. “So you know who I am.”
“Your boy made it hard to miss,” you say.
He grumbles to himself, then says, “He’s always such a drama queen. I didn’t need to be pardoned.”
“Really,” you say and look at the bloodied handkerchief wrapped around a bullet he dug out of himself. “Looks like at least one other person disagrees with you.”
“This was Steve’s fight, not mine.” He huffs. “Story of my goddamn lif–”
He suddenly falls back and you reach out instinctively to catch him. He recovers quickly, wild-eyed and stiff and you scoot back just in case. He takes a few deep breaths and seems to force himself calm. It doesn’t look very effective and you’re honestly starting to worry. “You really–”
“I did not faint,” he snaps and maybe he has more blood than you thought, or maybe absolutely all of it has come to collect in his face.
“I was going to say you really need a hospital,” you say. “But yeah, you did.”
He grumbles under his breath and then, as if predicting your protests, stands up quickly enough to waver. Serves him right, you think, but when he scowls at you, you wonder if maybe he’s psychic too. “Try not to pass out on your way home,” you say, because if he wants to leave there’s really nothing you can do to stop him.
“Funny,” he says. He clears his throat and adds, much more sincerely, “Thanks.”
For the t-shirts, for the first aid kit, for not calling the cops, for not calling the Avengers so Captain America can hone in on him like a cartoon hound, for not bitching about the floor too much– the list is many and varied and so you give him a simple nod and hope you can get even a little bit of sleep tonight because work tomorrow is going to be hell without it.
He goes back to the window and before you can point out you have a perfectly good door, Bucky slips out onto the fire escape again. You shrug to yourself and go over to firmly flip the lock. You’ve done your part– in the event he slips and hits his head, someone else can be the good Samaritan. You’re going to bed and tomorrow this is going to feel like a weird dream, if there is even a single good deity in existence.
~
You’re not sure if it’s proof of or a mark against the existence of said single good deity when Bucky shows back up in your fire escape the next evening and taps politely against your open window before he lets himself back in, scooting your new plant just an inch out of the way.
“I have a door,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth.
“Your hallway’s too well lit,” he says, much more hale and hearty and obviously not suffering major blood loss. His hair even looks like he just got out of the shower, all soft and shiny and bouncing a bit as he twists his upper body to start pulling stuff out of a backpack hanging off one shoulder. “I got stuff to clean the floor, and a replacement first aid kit. You outta keep it better stocked, so I got you one of the good ones.”
“O…kay,” you say, for lack of anything better. There’s a hysterical laugh building up in the back of your throat as the Winter Soldier brings out some rags and a cleaning solution for your bloodstained hardwood floor, but you cough it out and say, “Thanks,” when the formerly-feared international assassin looks at you like you’re crazy before he gets on his hands and knees and starts scrubbing.
It’s not fair no one would believe you. You’re not quite sure this isn’t an elaborate daydream, but then, you like to think you’d imagine something more fun than this. You clear your throat. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No thanks,” he grunts, glaring at the floor and rubbing at the stain like it has offended him personally. It’s a little worrisome when he goes at it hard enough to maybe rub a hole right through the floor– you’d rather deal with the stain– but there’s a hard edge to his eyes that make you think maybe it’s a good idea for him to work it out in a productive, non-violent way. And if it turns violent, hopefully he has some home repair skills to make up for it.
You busy yourself with making tea, using the nice pot and the nice cups you never get to break out, and by the time it’s almost done steeping Bucky isn’t rubbing quite so hard and, in fact, seems to have made the stain do a disappearing act.
“Nice,” you say. “You want some tea? I made plenty.”
He lifts his head and tilts it as he squints at you, like he’s still not sure of you. But he shrugs, says, “Sure,” and stands up, rolling his shoulders. He looks down at the floor and nods appreciatively before coming to sit on the other side of the counter. “It’s almost gone; just a little bit more and it’ll be like I was never here.”
That last part could have been a decent joke, but he said it so seriously you just clear your throat. “Thanks,” you say and start pouring. “My landlord is going to have to find some other excuse to try and keep my security deposit.”
Bucky snorts but otherwise makes no noise. At first it’s nice, if a bit awkward, as you don’t really feel the need to fill the silence, but it becomes clear by the way Bucky glares at the plant sitting in front of him on the counter that something is eating at him. You’re not sure whether or not to pry, but it seems polite to at least ask, “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he grunts and leans even lower to the surface of the counter.
You stare at him. “I appreciate what you did, but you didn’t have to come back,” you say gently, because a pissed-off former-assassin isn’t really a problem you want to have on your hands. “I’m not awful enough to actually expect you to clean up your own blood the day after you nearly bled to death.”
“What?” He blinks and then scowls and shakes his head. “No, it’s not that; it’s…” He picks up his cup and downs all of it, despite the fact that it was still steaming. Tentatively you pour him another cup, to which he says, “thanks,” before loading it with sugar again. “It’s good,” he says and this time he sips it.
“It’s one of my favorites. Very soothing,” you say. “Normally.”
Bucky rolls his eyes. “I wish anything was soothing. You know Steve almost ran into a goddamn minefield today?”
You didn’t know that, you don’t think anything the Avengers do is any of your business, really, and where does one even find a minefield in New York City– you don’t say any of that, but you apparently don’t need to, because Bucky is off like a shot saying more words than you’d have thought possible for him. All of it is ranting about what a reckless dumbass Captain America is, and a Brooklyn accent increasingly comes through, egged into existence by sheer aggravation. You sit and listen, transfixed not so much by the details (they’re too fleeting and sparse) but by how annoyed Bucky is with Captain Amer- with “Steve goddamn pain in the ass Rogers” and you’re never going to be able to see him again without snickering.
Bucky sighs heavily and rests his chin on the table. He looks very tired, all of a sudden. Maybe a relaxing tea and enthusiastic rant wasn’t the best combination. Then again, he also looks less tense, so perhaps it’s fine. “Why don’t you stop for the night and go get some sleep,” you say and take away his cup. “You can finish up tomorrow.”
He squints at you, squints back at the floor (that you honestly can’t tell is any different from the rest), and looks back at you. “You don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” you say and stack the cups. “When you come back refreshed you can tell me why Steve Rogers can never walk past that animal shelter without ducking his head in shame.”
Bucky’s smile is lopsided and he shakes his head. “Maybe,” he admits and hops off the chair. “I’ll just…leave the stuff here then, if that’s okay?”
You nod and he quickly picks up and puts the supplies in the empty bottom space of your side table. He goes for the window.
“I have a-!”
And he’s gone. You roll your eyes. If Steve Rogers really is as much of an asshole as Bucky says he is, then those two deserve each other.
~
For all that the Captain America mythos has been debunked for you, you’re still brought up short when you suddenly encounter Steve Rogers the next night.
On your fire escape.
He knocks his head against the railing in his scramble to simultaneously get up and face you, curses, and lifts his hands defensively. “I can explain.”
You rub your face with both hands. They definitely deserve each other. “I doubt that,” you mutter and sigh heavily. Thank goodness there haven’t been any actual fires; you don’t know how you’d get out with all these buff superheroes hanging around outside your window. “Have you lost something?”
Captain America looks at the ground for a moment, and then flashes you a smile. “…Yes?”
God, he is a smartass. “Do you want to come inside or do you want to risk some Nosy Nancy from the building across the street seeing a big shadow and calling the cops?”
That would never happen, but he slips inside almost immediately and then there he is, in all his uniformed, shield-holding glory. It’s too weird to think about, and you step back to give him (and you) space while you close the curtains. “Thank you,” he says politely and looks around. “Your apartment is lovely; it’s very…green.”
You’re not sure why he hesitates, until you see him looking at your yellowing majesty palm. “He’s coming back,” you say and go to adjust the plant for lack of anything else your nervous hands can do. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No thank you,” he says and stands with his feet shoulder wide and his hands clasped down in front of him. It is perhaps the least comforting thing he can do and for one ridiculous moment you wish Bucky was here to be in between you. You wish the Winter Soldier was here. To protect you. From Captain America.
You clear your throat. “So,” you say and grab yourself something. “Do you lurk outside everyone’s apartment at some point, or am I just special?”
For all his military posturing, Captain America squirms like a schoolboy. “I swear I wasn’t– okay, I guess I was but not intentionally? I was…looking. For something.”
“Something you dropped?” you ask him.
“A person,” he says, staring elsewhere. For a moment you have a paranoid thought he’s staring at the space where Bucky had fallen in that night, but no, he’s just looking at the window. At least you remembered to change the curtains.
“Pretty sure you can see one of those without squinting into the grates,” you say.
“He might have passed through on his way somewhere else,” Captain America says. “Have you seen a man outside?”
“Other than you?” you ask. He blushes even harder than Bucky does– and think of the devil, you have a moment where you’re not sure what you should say, but quickly come to realize that whatever is going on between the two of them, you do not want to get stuck in the middle.
You’re prepared to lie your ass off, but he apparently takes your response as a rebuke. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to make you feel unsafe.”
“It’s fine,” you say. Despite his previous answer, you lean into the fridge to get him a bottle of water. “I’m pretty sure Captain America isn’t going to murder me. And if you decided you wanted to, well, there’s nothing I could really do about it.”
He chokes on the drink he’s just taken. You instinctively lean in so you can slam his back but after a couple of hits he covers his mouth and waves you off. “Sorry, sorry,” he says and grabs a nearby dishcloth to wipe up what he just spit on the counter. “That was just…really dark.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not the one lurking on fire escapes,” you say.
He rolls his eyes. The nerve. You laugh and he actually grins. Asshole. His smile softens though and he says, “I’m really–”
“Sorry,” you finish for him.
“Am I that predictable already?”
You shrug. You want to tell him it’s because he and Bucky seem very much alike in that respect. You want to but…you don’t. Whatever Bucky’s problem is, he seems to want to deal with it himself, and it’s not your place to get in between them and start snitching. “You seem the type. Don’t worry about it so much. You…look pretty worried. I’m not going to hold it against you.”
“Thank you.” His lips turn into a sad sort-of smile and he takes a slower drink. “I guess I am pretty worried. This man I’m looking for, he’s…important to me, and he’s been through a lot, and I just want to know he’s okay.”
You stare at him. He looks down. And looks down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to babble like that,” he says and glances at you with a strained smile. “I don’t normally do that.”
“Hm.” You stare at him for several seconds and notice he is blinking an awful lot. “You look exhausted.”
“I’m a little tired,” he says, quietly, and some of the posturing seeps out of him and he lets himself slump a little more. He suddenly shakes his head and sits up straight again. “Thanks again for…” He looks around and settles for shaking his water bottle.
You hold back a laugh. “Sure. I uh…do you need me to call you a cab?”
He shakes his head firmly and, to his credit, he’s pretty excellent at pretending to be okay. You almost believe him. “I can get home all right.”
“Well, please make sure you do. I can think of a lot of people who’d be sad to think of you collapsing on the way home because you wore yourself down to the bone,” you say. “And from how you seem to worry about your friend, I bet you can think of at least one.”
He blinks, like he’s surprised, but a smile curls onto his face, warm and true. “Good night,” he says, and because you’re so nice, you don’t stop him when he goes back out the window. At this point, it’s beginning to feel like a lost cause.
~
“What did you say to him?”
“I know you don’t like the door,” you say, not even turning away from the plant you’re watering. Any time you put down the canister you forget where you left off and you are not going to kill these plants by overwatering. Not again. “But maybe you could at least tap on the window when you decide you’re going to enter my apartment.”
“Why do you leave your window open?” Bucky huffs. You can hear him sit at the counter behind you. “You know what kind of creeps can take advantage of that?”
You finish watering the last plant and turn to stare at him. “I’m starting to get an idea.”
Bucky scowls. “I’m not a creep,” he mutters.
“Polite society encourages doorways instead of windows,” you say. “It’s okay. Captain America, apparently, is also a creep.”
Bucky sits up straighter. “What did he say?”
“Not much,” you say. “He was squatting on the fire escape like he could make you spontaneously materialize. I invited him in for an explanation and after a little while he went on his way.”
“After a little while,” Bucky repeats and squints at you suspiciously.
You shrug. “He likes to vent to complete strangers, apparently. But I didn’t tell him anything about you, it doesn’t seem fair to tell you anything about him. If you want to know, I get the feeling you can go ask him.”
Bucky rolls his eyes but he stands up and stretches. “You said I bled on the drapes?”
“I already scrubbed that out, if you can finish the floor,” you say and go for the tea pot. “Do you like green tea?”
“As long as you do it right,” he says and starts scrubbing again. “I hate it all bitter.”
You go for the good matcha and start preparing it while he works out his frustrations on your floor. You glance at him a couple of times but he seems fully focused on his task, until you finish the tea and call him back to the bar.
“Steve Rogers is a pain in the ass and don’t let anyone tell you different,” he grumbles, but it’s soft and there’s a troubled look on his face as he takes his cup.
“Do you miss him?” you ask and blow gently across your drink.
Bucky shifts uncomfortably. Just as you're about to apologize for overstepping, though, he speaks. “It’s hard to go back when you’ve done the shit I have, you know?”
No. You have absolutely no idea what it’s like to live as a free man after decades of literal objectification and being used as a murder weapon for fascists. But it doesn’t seem very helpful to say that, so instead you say, gently, “I can’t even imagine.”
Bucky bobs his head and takes another sip of his drink. You’re delighted he seems to be drinking it fairly quickly, but also a little dismayed because a good matcha latte takes a decent amount of work and it’ll take a little time if he wants another cup. “I want to go back but I can’t yet. I wish he wouldn’t be so goddamn stubborn about it is all. Just because he thinks I didn’t do anything wrong doesn’t make it true.”
You nod, like any of this makes any goddamn sense to you. But maybe– maybe it doesn’t have to. Maybe Bucky’s saying all this because you’re an outside entity with no personal stake in, or knowledge of, what counts as treason, or what’s needed to lack culpability, or what it means to be an absent friend.
He rambles, a little bit, and though about half the words are proper nouns you don’t recognize, you nod along, and when he finishes his latte you make him another one, and when he leaves, you don’t mention the door. Even though you want to.
~
You’ve actually forgotten how nice it is to have someone come through the door. Case in point–
“Um, I hope this is all right,” Steve Rogers, dressed in casual civilian fare and holding a small pot of flowers, says as you can do nothing but stare at him. “I just wanted to stop by and thank you again for being so understanding. May I…come in?”
That snaps you out of your funk and you quickly stand aside. “Of course; sorry, I just…wasn’t expecting you.”
“I was just going to leave the plant with a note if you weren't here, but I’m glad you were,” Captain Rogers says and walks in, and sets the pot down on the counter.
You walk over to the fridge. “Would you like something to–” As you turn to finish the question you see him glance furtively at the window. Ah, of course. He looks down guiltily and you can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh. Well, he did come through the correct entrance and brought some pretty flowers. “All right, you did knock on the door this time; go sniff around the fire escape all you want.”
“I’m just checking something I forgot,” he says quickly and goes to the window. He’s only outside long enough for you to brew some tea and he comes back in just as you’re pouring his cup. It isn’t until he’s about to take a sip, however, that he says, “Oh– I know it looks bad, but Bucky– sorry, James Barnes– I swear he isn’t dangerous.”
“I know. I saw some of the trial stuff,” you lie. Well, you did see some of it, but it wasn’t until you heard Bucky mutter “Martha Stewart was right,” while fussing at some of the blood on his shirt that you felt safer. Strange as it is to think.
Steve relaxes his shoulders like some of the weight is off of them. “You have no idea how good that is to hear. You wouldn’t believe some of the things people say to me. I can’t really punch people anymore because I’m so much stronger now but it’s so tempting sometimes. At least when it’s online I can mime punching them.”
His annoyed tone allows you to laugh a little. “Maybe imagine the block button is a punch in the face?” you suggest.
He grins. “My friend Clint suggested printing out the most irritating comments and taping them to a punching bag. It didn’t really work but the thought was nice. The block button as a punch to the face though…”
The guy doesn’t really need more violence in his life, but he genuinely seems pleased with the idea, so you let it be. And when he starts ranting in detail about some of the comments he gets about Bucky, you make a new pot of tea– chamomile. For the both of you.
~
You don’t know how the flowers are dead already– it seems like Steve just brought them and they were so pretty you immediately looked up care instructions and followed them to the letter. Or so you thought. But now, only days later, you have a pot of dirt and withered petals.
And Bucky sulking at your counter.
“I told him I was fine,” he says petulantly.
You sigh and bring the pot over to the sink and think about what to do. “Did you tell him in person?”
“In a letter. He knew it was from me.”
The soil looks nice, so you’ll dig out the remains and try to plant some replacement seeds. Maybe that was the problem– maybe the flowers were sick or something. “Well reading and seeing are two different things.”
“He knows I cover him in fights.”
You slowly look at Bucky. His oh-so intelligent response is to bristle like a cat and go, “What?”
You roll your eyes. “He’s desperate to see you, knows you’re near when he’s fighting, and you wonder why he’s “so goddamn reckless?’”
Bucky just glares. Yeah, these two morons absolutely deserve each other.
You hope Bucky figures it out sooner rather than later.
~
He doesn’t, but he keeps coming by, as does Steve, and you resign yourself to hosting two pining idiots who keep dancing around each other.
Bucky drinks anything you give him without complaint. However he drinks the lattes and almost anything green tea a little quicker, though he tries to hide his cup from you when he does. Whether he’s ashamed of going through them so fast or embarrassed you don’t know, but you start to give him bigger cups, and that seems to help.
The first time you give Steve a cup of apple pie spice, he gives you a severe glare– which he then completely undermines by liking the blend immensely.
“I swore the next person who offered me apple pie would get popped,” Steve says, an amusing mixture of half-bluster and half-shame as he sips from the classic teacup you hope not to regret handing him.
“Lucky for me it’s not actually apple pie,” you say. “Do people really make that joke?”
The eyeroll Steve gives that is 200% sass. “You have no idea,” he says, deadly serious, “–how funny people think they are.”
~
This becomes…oddly normal. Listening to Steve talk about anything that’s on his mind, giving Bucky new tea blends just to see how he reacts to them; your apartment is no longer just you and a bunch of greenery that seems to wilt more often than not. Everything seems warmer, and better– even your plants seem healthier. (For that, though, you suspect Bucky is giving them a special mixture of something after you catch a glance of him messing with one of the pots. You want to ask him what he’s doing, but you don’t want to admit that he’s better at taking care of them than you are.)
It’s so normal, that you feel the silence only after the first few nights without a visit. They don’t visit every night, but they visit often enough that you know they’re off somewhere even without them telling you. For a couple of weeks you try to pretend the quiet doesn’t bother you, but you check the fire escape twice every night, and then once more before you go to bed.
~
The next time you see Bucky is during one of these checks. There was no tapping, no noise to otherwise alert you, he’s just suddenly back, sitting next to the window, hunched over in black clothes nearly blending into the darkness and staring out at nothing in the night.
“What’s wrong?” you ask and crawl out to kneel next to him. “Are you hurt again?”
“No,” he mutters and continues to glare at some imaginary point in the distance. “Steve was, though.”
It’s a little harder to swallow. “Is he going to be okay?”
“Yeah,” Bucky mumbles and buries his mouth further against his arms. “He’s fine, strutting around the hospital like a- like a- …” He huffs and sits back to wave his arms before he curls back in on himself. “But it was close, and he’s an asshole.”
“Mm,” you say. “Chamomile mint?”
He sighs heavily but he gets to his feet and starts to enter, only to stop and hold open the curtains for you.
“Thank you sir,” you say with only a hint of sarcasm and go on ahead to get the tea started. Bucky snorts but doesn’t say anything and you use the time the water needs to heat up to take care of some of your plants.
“Stop it.”
The snap comes so fast from Bucky you immediately stop what you’re doing. He doesn’t look as angry as he sounded, but he’s frowning pretty hard. “You're overwatering that one; jade plants are succulents. You don’t need to drown it.”
You look at the plant and set the watering can down. “Oh.” You knew that. You think. You’re just nervous. “Did you see him? In the hospital?”
“Briefly. I didn’t talk to him; just made sure he was all right,” Bucky says. “And he is. I wouldn’t leave him if he wasn’t.”
That does assuage some of your concerns. Steve is nice. You want him to be okay. And Bucky is– also nice, but god, they’re both so fucking frustrating. “You couldn’t have just–”
“Don’t start with–”
“I’m just saying–”
“And I’m telling you not to say–”
“I pay the rent for all that you sublet my fire escape; I’ll say what I want,” you manage to finish to Bucky’s consternation. You lift your head proudly and he frowns to one side. And then he…smirks. You’re not sure you like that.
“Crappiest space in the city,” he says and sits up. “You could at least get a chair.”
You roll your eyes and dole out the tea, fixing it the way Bucky likes. No sugar for this one, but plenty of honey. “If I ever have to leave for an actual fire, I’ll be in enough trouble trying to get around you.”
“Nah. I’d carry you out,” Bucky says and lifts his cup in a silent ‘cheers.’ He takes a sip and the sigh sounds content, so you assume you did it right. For a few moments a comfortable silence settles between the two of you as you sip warm drinks surrounded by greenery (that is mostly green) and life goes on in faint sounds outside the confines of your home.
Bucky sets his empty cup down with a sigh. “Do you think, if I show up to throttle him, that he’ll actually start watching his own fucking back?”
You give that some serious thought. “Will you give him time to moon at you first?”
Bucky sighs with disgust and flumps back onto the counter. “This is stupid. This all feels so stupid.”
You open your mouth because you do have a lot of opinions about honest communication and using innocent civilian apartments to dance around each other, but Bucky shoots you a glare to let you know that a, he knows, and b, he doesn’t appreciate it. You roll your eyes and go back to drinking your tea. It is a very good blend, and you’re not going to let it go unappreciated because two early 20th century boys can’t get their shit together.
Not that you’re complaining, really– you’re starting to feel like less of a disaster by comparison. Or maybe letting two strange men into your apartment makes you just as bad by default. You rub the bridge of your nose. Yeah, no one is getting out of this looking sane. You feel like that should bother you more than it does, but it’s just a fleeting thought before you go back to worrying about Steve and pouring Bucky’s cup back to full.
~
The next night when someone knocks on your door, you’re only mildly surprised to see Steve on the other side. And most of that surprise is because you can see fading bruises on his face, and also because he is holding a fairly big potted plant with tall green and yellow-edged leaves.
“Hi,” he says and lifts the pot slightly. “I got you a present.”
“Uh, wow; thanks?” you say and quickly step back to let him in, momentarily forgetting he can probably carry it around with ease. Steve places the plant on the floor near the end of your couch, where it actually looks fairly nice. He gestures at it proudly. “It’s a snake plant. The man at the nursery said it’s very hard to kill.”
“You’re not funny,” you say but you look at it appreciatively. It is nice, and you could do with ‘hard to kill’. Speaking of– “Should you be up? You look like you should be in a hospital.”
He shrugs and his face goes neutral. “I’m healing well enough that there’s nothing a hospital could do for me. And I felt so…restless.”
You nod. “Want some tea?”
“Please. I really like what you make,” he says and immediately takes a seat at the counter. Oddly enough, it’s not the one Bucky always takes. You don’t realize you squint at the space for too long until Steve looks curious and asks, “Is everything okay?”
You squint at the countertop. “Yeah, just…trying to figure out if that’s a stain or a spot.”
Thankfully there is a spot of spilled something and you quickly grab a towel and wipe it away. You think it’s a pretty good save, but Steve looks at you with a raised brow, like he’s figured something out. You freeze. “What?” What are you going to say? How is he going to react? What will you–
“Was that a coffee ring?”
You blink a few times, and then roll your eyes as your chest practically deflates. He smiles and winks. “I can’t believe you.”
“I am a layered human being who can drink many things,” you say defensively. “And if you want coffee you’ll have to ask another time. I’m not giving you anything with caffeine in it when you look like you got hit by a truck.”
“Train,” he corrects absently. “It barely clipped me.”
You sigh and go for the sleepy blend. One of you is going to have to bow out of this conversation due to exhaustion and at this point you don’t care if it’s you. However it might truly come in handy as Steve keeps looking out the window and shaking his foot. You set the cup in front of him and before you can ask what’s wrong, he takes the cup in both hands and blurts out, “I think I saw him.”
You look at the window and squint. “Seriously?”
“Not here.” Steve rolls his eyes. Like you’re the crazy one. He blows gently across the surface of the liquid and says, “Though it’s strange you’d think I saw Bucky out of your window.”
“Isn't that why you started showing up here in the first place? I distinctly remember someone with a big red, white, and blue shield lurking on my fire escape.”
“Oh, right,” he admits sheepishly, hunched over his cup. His eyes glimmer with mischief as he looks up at you through long lashes and asks, “Did I ever apologize to you for that?”
You’re brought up short by the amount of boyish charm this giant walking wall of muscle manages to pack into that look and you have to find your tongue to say, “I– y-yeah…”
Steve chuckles to himself and you give yourself a mental slap on the face. “Troll,” you mutter and sip from your mug. The liquid is piping hot and burns your tongue, giving you an excuse to grimace when Steve flashes you a beautiful smile.
~
You’re in trouble.
Not physically, not immediately, and perhaps someone on the outside might say you’re being dramatic about it, but they wouldn’t know shit about the situation. They wouldn’t know about how your hands felt as they slid over Steve’s when he handed you a new small pot of flowers; they wouldn’t know about the feeling of serenity that settled over you when Bucky abandoned some of his oh so careful control and rested his head on your shoulder for four long seconds; they wouldn’t know how it feels like you’re missing something until someone shows up at your door or taps at your window.
You’re falling in love with two people who have always been, and still are, desperately in love with each other.
Isn’t that just your luck.
~
In the end, Bucky takes your advice more to heart than you ever expected he would– you and Steve are quietly enjoying each others’ company, with you standing in the kitchen and Steve sitting at the counter as per usual, when the curtains move dramatically for Bucky to slip in, which makes Steve whirl around, and your hands jerk so hard from all the sudden surprise that your cup slips out and crashes to the floor.
“Shi-” You forget to watch your step and immediately catch a jagged shard that embeds itself right under the ball of your foot. “Ow, fuck!”
Your name is said in different voices but very similar tones of alarm and you suddenly find yourself gathered into Bucky’s arms, bridal style, and he carries you over to the couch. “Wh-” You swallow at the close proximity to Bucky’s chest and the way he holds you so effortlessly but so securely. “I’m fine; it’s just a little–”
Bucky sits down on the couch and doesn’t move you, which means you are basically sitting cross-wise in his lap. This is not something you need after your recent revelation, and it doesn’t get any easier when Steve comes back with the heavy duty first aid kit Bucky got you and gingerly takes your foot to examine the injury. His sympathetic look towards you gives you the warning you need to brace yourself before he pulls the shard out. It doesn’t hurt too terribly and he’s almost tender as he cleans your foot.
“Look at us, matching blood and all,” Bucky says lightly.
“It’s my floor I’ll bleed on it if I want,” you grumble, but you’re too distracted by how focused Steve is on fixing you up. “You…seem to be taking this well.”
“I knew he had been here since the first time I came,” Steve admits as he rolls the gauze around your foot. “There was a bloodstain on your floor still.”
“Seriously?” You had thought Bucky was being overdramatic about the supposed stain and humored him, but it…makes sense. Why else would he come back the next night. Why else would Steve continue to come by. And because Steve had kept coming, Bucky had kept coming, and…they won’t need to come back anymore, will they? They now have what they’ve wanted. Each other.
Someone says your name and you force yourself back to neutral as much as you possibly can. Steve looks curious though and Bucky says, “What’s with that look?”
“There’s no look,” you say. “And if there is, it’s only because you two have devised the weirdest meet-cute ever– decades after you actually met.”
“Hm.” Bucky continues to stare at you, but doesn’t say anything else.
~
They come back. And they both use the door.
You don’t know what you’re more shocked by– that Bucky and Steve, having come back to each other, are still coming around to you, or that Bucky is actually walking through the designated threshold. You don’t have a lot of time to think about it though because the place is…a mess.
“What happened here?” Steve asks as Bucky’s shoulders go up to his ears and he looks around the place like he’s going to find something unpleasant.
“It’s not that bad,” you say and glance around. You’ve cleaned out a few of the pots already and stacked them away in the closet, but some of the plants are still…slightly alive, for a little while. A couple are even doing fairly well– one of which being the snake plant Steve got you.
“What happened to the jungle?” Bucky asks, looking around shrewdly. You don’t like the sound of that. It feels so…probing, and raises your hackles. Why should he care?
“I wasn’t keeping them alive for very long.” You flick a yellowing leaf and keep your tone light. “I just got tired of it. What are…what are you doing here?”
You don’t look at Steve, but he clears his throat and his tone is similar to Bucky’s when he asks, “Is now a bad time?”
“For what?” You square your shoulders and face them. Like an adult. Like an adult who had two other adults just sort of crash into their life one day and start sharing space until such time as the two window-crashers decided they…didn’t need to come around anymore. “I’m happy you both found each other. You didn’t have to come back.”
Steve looks…well, he looks hurt. You don’t know any other way to describe it; it doesn’t show in his face so much as in his eyes, in the feeling you get watching the line of his shoulders lower. But before he can say anything, before you can explain yourself, Bucky speaks up.
“It isn’t like that,” he says.
You look down. It’s easier than looking at a man who feels rejected, and a man who has you completely pegged.
“What?” Steve asks.
“It’s okay,” you say, in perhaps the biggest bald-faced lie you’ve ever told.
“That’s not– no,” Bucky insists and lifts your chin. His fingers are warm and gentle and linger too long.
You pull back from his touch before you can embarrass yourself further. “You guys were literally circling each other.”
“Please.” Bucky rolls his eyes. “I don’t need to keep coming back here to be near Steve. I know where he lives.”
“And I leave my window unlocked,” Steve says. He aims a cheeky grin at Bucky and adds, “Guess I should have left it open though.”
“Shut up,” Bucky tells him but looks at you and says, “Point is: we weren't using you.”
Steve blinks. “Oh– no, of course not!”
“It’s all right,” you say, trying as hard as you can to assuage their discomfort even though you can’t put much into it. Even though you did very much want this meeting to happen, somehow you don’t feel very ‘all right.’
“No,” Bucky says and takes your hand in his. The flesh hand, which he runs up to the middle of your forearm. His touch is gentle and light, even when he grips. You can break away, but you don’t– you let him pull you in, close and closer, until there’s barely any room between you.
Steve crowds from the side and puts one arm behind Bucky, and one arm behind you. “If you only think we’re here because of each other, then it’s not all right,” he says softly.
“I know it isn’t– I know you weren't ‘using’ m–” You swallow hard. “And I know it’s not–”
They both swoop in for a kiss– for a kiss with you. Somehow they avoid bumping heads and the lip-lip-lip contact is barely there, with Steve at the corner and Bucky barely catching one side of your upper lip, but they're both there for a glorious moment that leaves you stunned.
“Oh…” you say, dumbly. You try to fight it, but a smile pulls at your lips. “Oh.”
“That good already, huh?” Steve asks quietly, slowly forming a small smile of his own.
You let out a little sigh that is immediately undermined by an uncontrollable laugh that swells from a bubble of relief at the base of your throat. “Bucky’s right, you are insufferable,” you say but you reach out to sweep your fingers in a gentle touch down Steve’s cheek and under his chin.
“You get used to it,” Bucky says.
You think about that. Even with how you’ve been, entertaining these two rotating planets over the last however many weeks or months, this would be an entirely new normal.
You think you can’t wait to get used to it.
482 notes · View notes
andreafmn · 3 years
Text
Choices - Part 1
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Word Count: 3,913
Requested: by me; inspired by a TikTok POV
Story Description: After the snap (Y/N) and Steve decided to shift their friendship into a romantic relationship. After the Battle of Earth, and Thanos’s ultimate defeat, Steve had to travel back in time to return the stones, but what (Y/N) doesn’t know is he’s not returning. The man leaves to his best friend the hard task to break the news to his lover. But what will happen if Steve returns in an unexpected manner? 
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader
Part: 1/3
A/N: I just gotta say I only have spoiled knowledge of what happens in Endgame because I refuse to acknowledge its existence and I’ll never watch it. Anything I write that is not cannon, whoops. But this one-shot is inspired by a POV I stumbled upon in TikTok and I just needed to write. Had to divide it into two parts because it was getting too long.
Follow Me!
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                                                        ***
 It had taken 6 years and losing almost everyone we loved for Steve and me to admit our feelings for each other. After seeing our closest friends dissipate into fine dust we decided life was too short to wait for the right time. 
That was 5 years ago. Our relationship had been solidified as the years went on and the loss of Nat and Tony in the Battle of Earth only bringing us closer.
But something had changed. These past few days Steve had grown distant and quiet, only acknowledging me when we were in our bedroom or stuck in training. All I could attribute it to was that he was nervous about traveling to return the stones. Normally, he would talk to me about what was clouding his mind but nowadays he was acting as if we were strangers. 
Thankfully, I had a friend to occupy my time with. Bucky and I had developed a close friendship since meeting him back when he still was the Winter Soldier. Being part of his recovery was the catalyst to the relationship we have today. Losing him in the blip was horribly heartbreaking but it brought me and Steve closer. Now that he was back, I was able to have someone I could confide in the understood the Captain’s brain. 
“Hey, Buck,” I announced my arrival as I saw Bucky getting some water in the kitchen. “Couldn’t sleep?” 
“Not really,” he sighed. “The nightmares, you know?” 
He was right, I did know. Although I wasn’t blipped I had my own demons I was still battling with. “Yeah, I get it. I’m making grilled cheese, do you want some?” 
“Grilled cheese? At 3 am?” He chuckled. “What’s wrong?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Come on, (Y/N). You only eat grilled cheese at this time when you’re worried about something.”
“You know me too well,” I sighed. “It’s Steve. He’s been really weird this past few days.” 
“Weird how?”
“He’s been kinda avoiding me lately and I don’t know why.” A few tears were threatening to spill, but I did my best to dry them before they fell. “It’s like nothing I do is good enough, like he’d rather be anywhere but close to me. Does he hate me? Is it something I did?” 
Bucky got up from the chair he was sat in and wrapped me in a hug. I couldn’t hold off the tears this time. “There’s nothing you could do that would make that man hate you, he’s probably just in his head about traveling in time.” 
“I thought so, but why wouldn’t he talk to me about it. There’s not a single thing we haven’t been able to talk about up to ‘til now. What’s so important about this that he can’t talk to me about it.” 
“Don’t stress yourself over this, doll. I’m sure after tomorrow everything would go back to how it was.”
Bucky’s POV
And at that time I did believe it. Knowing Steve I really thought he was just nervous about the journey he had to take in the morning. That was until he said he needed to talk with me. 
“What is it, punk? You too nervous?” I chuckled until I saw the serious face he held. 
“I need a favor from you, Buck, and you might not like it.” 
“You’re scaring me, Steve. What’s wrong?” I couldn’t help but think that this had to do with why he was avoiding (Y/N). 
“When I go back today, I’m not coming back in 5 seconds.” 
“What are you talking about, Steve?” 
“I’m going to stay back and have a life with Peggy. This is my last chance to be with her and I’m taking it,” he ran his hands through his face. He knew what he was asking of me and he knew it wasn’t fair. “I need you to tell (Y/N) for me once I’m gone. She’s gonna need someone to lean on and I need it to be you.” 
“You can’t do that, Rogers. It’s not fair to me and it’s definitely not fair to her. (Y/N) loves you with her whole being. This is going to crush her.” He had been ignoring her out of guilt and he was leaving all these feelings behind in a couple of hours, leaving me to deal with the aftermath. “You know, she’s been beating herself over you avoiding her and I thought it was just nerves. But this is a new low; the Steve I know would never do this.” 
“Bucky, I’m sorry. I just think it’ll go over quicker if it comes from you.” 
“What you’re doing is cleaning your hands of a mess you’re making.” The anger was boiling inside of me by now. (Y/N) did not deserve this ending, she did not deserve to have her heart broken in such a cowardly way. 
“Please, Bucky. I don’t think I could tell her face to face.” He took a paper out of his back pocket. “I wrote her this letter, hopefully, it’ll help things to smooth over. Please, Buck, please. You have to believe me when I tell you the last thing I want to do is hurt her.”
I snatched the letter from his hands and guarded it in my jacket pocket. “I’ll do it only because I owe you my life and she’ll need someone once I break her heart for you. But, I get it.” 
“Thanks, bud. I know that for now, it must seem like a horrible thing to do but hopefully in time you’ll see my point of view.” I accepted the hug he offered. Although my head was telling me to be loyal to Steve, my heart was breaking at the thought of breaking (Y/N)’s. 
Before I knew it, Sam, Bruce, (Y/N), Steve, and I were standing in front of the machine that would be the catalyst of inevitable heartbreak. 
3rd person’s POV
“Well, this is it,” Steve whispered. They were standing to the right as Banner made sure everything was ready for Steve’s trip. 
“You know, it’s not too late to back out,” (Y/N)’s hands traveled to his chest. “We can have someone else go.” 
“It has to be me, (Y/N). But I’ll be back before you know it, doll.” His head lowered and left a deep kiss on her lips. They lingered for longer than usual, and she couldn’t help but imagine that there was an underlying message to it. “You know I love you, right? And I would never do anything to purposely hurt you, right?”
“Of course, Steve. I love you, too.” (Y/N) smiled and kissed him once more, allowing him to engulf her in a tight hug. “Be careful, okay? I can’t lose you too.” 
“I will,” he smiled. “Now, I’ve gotta go.”
“I know, be safe.” She smiled once more as she watched Steve get on the machine. She made her way over to Bucky, his arm circling her shoulders. “It’s just 5 seconds, right?” 
“Yup,” he smiled, ignoring the burning sensation coming from the paper inside his jacket. “Just five seconds.”
“Ready, Cap?” asked Bruce from behind the control panel. Steve nodded, one hand on Mjolnir and another on the case that held the Infinity Stones. “Alright, we’ll meet you back here, okay?” 
“You bet,” he responded. Two of the people present knew that it was a lie, but no one else had picked up on it yet. His head was encircled by the helmet and he stared at the two people that meant the most to him in this lifetime. Hurting them was the hardest thing he had to do, but he had been living for everyone else for too long. He decided that it was time to do something for himself. 
“Going quantum in 3, 2, 1,” Bruce announced. A breath hitched in (Y/N)’s throat as the time went down, all she had to do was brace herself for five seconds. Banner hit the button and (Y/N) had to blink various times to fully grasp the disappearance of the man she loved. He had vanished as quick as a thought, one second there and the next just a memory. “And returning in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1....”
Nothing. Bruce clicked the button and nothing happened. The body of Captain America was nowhere in sight. 
“Bruce, what the hell is going on?” (Y/N) spoke up, but she wasn’t sure if her voice was heard. Her mind raced a million miles an hour and she could feel her legs giving out. Had it not been for Bucky’s left arm, she would have crashed to the floor. Bruce stammered with his words, not knowing what to say. “Bucky, where is he, Bucky? Where’s Steve?” 
Bucky knew it would hurt to see her cry, but this was shattering his heart. Her body was falling limp in his arms and the tears were streaming out of her eyes faster than he could dry them. Her words were slurred but he understood the gist of it. She was hurt; she was betrayed; she was beyond heartbroken. 
“Come on, let’s sit down.” Bucky led her to the tent that was propped up behind them. “There’s something you should know.” 
“What is it, Buck?” She sobbed. 
“Please don’t hate me, but Steve is not coming back.” The girl looked up at her friend, not know what emotion she was feeling in the moment. Her tears stopped momentarily, needing to hear the words that would spill from Bucky’s mouth. “Steve decided to go back in time and have a life with Peggy. He needed you to know that he didn’t want to hurt you. He also left you this note.” 
Her shaky hands extended to take hold of the piece of paper Bucky handed her. She dried away the tears that were clouding her eyes and began reading. 
My dearest doll,
 If you are reading this letter, you know I am not coming back. I decided to take hold of the chance to have the life I would’ve had if I stayed in the 40s. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling in this moment, and I’m sorry for all the hurt I know I’m causing you. I need you to know that I never knew I could love someone after Peggy and I’m thankful for all the years we had together. I was in love with you and I still am, but I could not continue on knowing I have a chance to answer one of my biggest ‘what if’s. I could not go on in our life with the weight of my past on our shoulders, you deserve better than that. I hope you can pardon how big of a coward I am being in the moment, I knew I couldn’t do this face-to-face and you deserve at least a worded explanation of why I left. You are strong, amazing, beautiful, and deserving of all the love in the world; I’m sorry I couldn’t provide it. I want you to promise me that you’ll move on and be happy, even if it’s not with me. I also hope you don’t hate Bucky for being the bearer of bad news, he didn’t know until today and I gave him no other choice thant to tell you. If there’s someone that can understand what you are feeling right now, it is him.
I hope one day you will forgive me for this,
I love you until the end of the line.
Steve
She folded the paper back up and broke down once again. Bucky engulfed her in a hug and held her as she shook. “He’s gone, Buck. He went back to be with Peggy. I wasn’t enough for him.” 
“Oh, doll, I’m so sorry.” 
“Guys, we’ve got to head back,” Sam peeked his head through the tent, heartbroken by the view in front of him. “I’ve got her, Buck. Go get the truck started.” 
Bucky released (Y/N) into the arms of Sam Wilson, and left to start the car to head back to the tower. Sam ran his hands over the sobbing girl’s hair trying his best to soothe her. Even though he didn’t fully understand the situation she was in, he got the jist of it. After everything was packed back up, (Y/N) had fallen asleep in Sam’s arms, so he picked her up and laid her on his lap to not wake her. She would be needing all the rest she could get. 
“You guys good back there?” Bucky asked.  
“Yeah, she’s out like a light,” Sam whispered. 
“Good, she’s gonna need all the energy she can get to recover.”
“What happened?” 
“Steve decided to stay back and be with Peggy; left me to tell her the news.” Busky gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were pale white, his anger building up inside him. 
“Wow, I never expected that from the Cap. I don’t think it’ll be easy for her to move on from this.” He looked down at the sleeping figure in his lap, wiping away the few tears that had slipped out in her slumber. “She might be physically strong, but she’s very sensitive and rarely gets attached.”
“I still don’t understand why he chose to do it this way. The little punk.”
The duo waited until Banner was inside the truck before leaving the spot they were in and back home. Unbeknownst to them, behind the trees, a figure stared at the scene in front of him with a broken heart.
                                                           ***
It had been almost three weeks of robotic movements from (Y/N). She would wake up, sometimes eat, sit in front of a window and stare down the New York skyline; other times she would lay in bed wearing one of Steve’s shirts and sprayed the room with his cologne as she sobbed into his pillow. There were the nights that she drowned her sorrows in a bottle of whatever liquor she could find, until the other members started hiding the bottles. But that didn’t stop her from stashing a couple of bottles in her closet. Nighttime was always the hardest. (Y/N) had grown used to falling asleep in Steve’s arms and being engulfed in his warmth. Now, she thrashed around in a bed that was too big, too cold, and too uncomfortable.
The rest of the team had tried their best to lift her spirits, but nothing seemed to work too well. Sam tried his best to make her favorite meals, which she gave thanks for but rarely ate, pushing the food around in the plate; Bucky tried to entice some emotion by asking her to join him in clearing his list of movies to watch to catch up on the times, but she would zone out for most of the movie; Bruce would ask her to join him in his afternoon reading sessions, but every time she picked up a book she re-read the same page over and over not retaining a single word; Wanda would try her best to get her to partake in normal hygiene practices, which the girl had held off on for a couple of days, only getting her to shower every other day.
(Y/N) was a walking zombie, doing the bare minimum to survive.
But today she had woken up differently, her heart hurting a little less than the other days. She got into the shower, brushed her teeth, and even got dressed in her own clothes. It was three in the afternoon, but she was up. She was detangling her hair when her bedroom door opened.
“You’re awake?” Bucky said, startled to see a clean and awake (Y/N) in front of him. “Don’t mean to sound so surprised, but I came in here with the intention to startle you awake once again.”
The girl chuckled and continued her brushing. “Thought it was time to do something by myself.”
“Here, let me.” Bucky took the brush from her hands and started brushing through her damp hair. It finally smelled of her normal shampoo and conditioner, and not a mix of her hair oils and Steve’s cologne. The smell of strawberries and vanilla emanated from her head and Bucky couldn’t help but breathe in deep. His left hand ran the hairbrush through her hair as his right hand smoothed it down. (Y/N) leaned into his touch and smiled at the comforting strokes he was providing. Unknowingly, Bucky started humming a lullaby under his breath.
“What are you humming?”
“It’s a Russian lullaby I overheard one night while under HYDRAs hold. There’s not much I like to remember from those times, but this I don’t mind.”
“I like it,” she rocked to the movements of his hands and smiled as she listened intently to his humming. She couldn’t see him, but the veteran was smiling at her. It had been the first time she had shown any kind of emotion in the time that had elapsed. He finished her hair in a sloppy braid, not fully understanding the mechanics of the three-strand braid. “Thank you, Buck.”
“How’re you feeling today, (Y/N)?” He finally asked.
“I’m feeling better, don’t know how long it will take to get me to 100% but I’m feeling like a 45% today.”
“That’s good to hear, you know. It’s better than where we started.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind and she leaned into him, enjoying the warmth his body emanated. “So, what do you want to do today?”
“Have not gotten up to that point.”
“Well, Sam’s already cooking up something in the kitchen and I’m on the second movie of The Lord of the Rings, so we can watch that one.”
“Okay, that sounds good.” She smiled at the man that was next to her as they exited her room.
The rest of the team had gathered in the kitchen, working on ways to cheer (Y/N) up when they saw her emerge from the hallway with a small smile on her face. Everyone’s jaw fell open when they saw the girl looking partly human and with a spark of energy. It had been a while since she had resembled the (Y/N) they knew and loved.
“Guys, please pick up your mouths off the floor, your eyes do not deceive you.” (Y/N) joked.
“Glad to see you’re alive, (Y/N),” Sam spoke. “Come have some food.” 
She smiled at her friend and sat next to Wanda as Sam placed a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of her. Bucky served himself and her a cup of coffee and added the cream and sugar she enjoyed with her drink. She happily munched on the food as the people around her stared in astonishment.
Thankfully, the staring didn’t last long. Wanda and Sam had a quick recon mission and Bruce had some work to finish in the lab, leaving Bucky and (Y/N) to enjoy The Two Towers in peace. Bucky had the curtains drawn and the movie all set up as (Y/N) took out blankets and made a hole between all the pillows that adorned the couch. The duo settled into their spot and bundled themselves in the blankets, settling in for the 226 minutes of the extended version of the movie.
She wasn’t sure at what point in the movie she fell asleep, but she was woken up by Bucky softly shaking her awake. She mumbled something she didn’t even understand, so Bucky decided to carry her to her bed. (Y/N) had burned too much energy by being around too many people too fast. It didn’t seem like a lot but being around the whole team had taken a toll on her. The sun had started to set and so were the last slivers of happiness she had felt.
Bucky set her down on her bed, tucking the blankets around her. He turned to leave when a small hand wrapped around his right wrist. He looked down and saw a teary-eyed (Y/N) looking up at him.
“Stay, please.” Her voice was barely a whisper and it trembled slightly. She was the vision of the heartbreaking scene that had hurt him three weeks ago.
He smiled softly at the girl and went around the bed to climb in. “Today was hard, huh?”
“Yeah, I thought I was ready to go back to normal, but it took too much out of me. I feel so useless.”
“You are far from useless, doll. You’re hurting, darling, we all understand.” He pulled her in close and laid her head on his chest, the thin layer becoming wet with her tears. “It’ll get better someday, that’s the only thing I’m sure of.”
“How do you know?” 
“Because we all do, after a while we all get better.”
“I wish we knew how long a while was. Everything would be easier.” 
“I know, doll, but let’s take it all one day at a time. Just remember you’re not alone. You have me – and the rest of the team.” He cleared his throat trying to disguise the importance she held in his life. Bucky would have never said anything, but he had fallen for the girl. He held her already in high regard for the care she had given to his best friend, but his feelings had started to shift when she started caring for him while they were on the run.
“Thank you, Buck. I don’t know where I would be without you.” She laid a kiss on his chest and drifted to sleep with Bucky’s arm rubbing circles on her back.
One more week had gone by and (Y/N) had grown used to having Bucky sleep with her at night. He had helped her pack away all the things Steve had left in the room – specifically the cologne that still hunted her, – he started waking her up earlier and making sure she got at least two full meals a days before she went to bed, and he made sure that she didn’t spend her nights crying for a man he called his best friend.
All of Bucky’s efforts didn’t go unnoticed. The remaining Avengers had noticed how the ex-assassin cared for the broken girl, going further than the rest of them did. And his feelings for the girl did not fly by the mind-reading witch that currently stared at him preparing lunch for (Y/N).
“When will you tell her how you feel?” The redhead spoke, casually sipping on a cup of coffee.
“What do you mean, Wanda?” 
“What she means is that you’ve been in love with that girl for far too long and it’s time you confess already,” Sam jeered. “Nothing’s stopping you now.”
“Except for the fact that she’s still reeling from my best friend breaking her heart by going back in time and leaving her to be with someone else. I’m sure she’ll be jumping with joy if I confess right now,” he mocked. “Anyways, how did you know?” 
“You’re not very secretive about it,’’ Sam laughed. “You’re always in a sour mood but magically when you’re with her you become someone else. The White Wolf become (Y/N)’s puppy real quick!’’
“I am not that obvious with it.”
“Okay, lil’ pup.”
“Whatever. Anyways, it’s not the right time for that.”
“When will it be the right time then, Bucky?” Wanda inquired.
“I don’t know. But it’s not right now.”  He plated what he was cooking and headed to (Y/N)’s room. The last thing she needed at the moment was a new relationship, even if that’s all Bucky wanted. 
439 notes · View notes
angelkurenai · 4 years
Text
Long overdue - Bucky Barnes x Reader
Title: Long overdue
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: None
Prompt: Could you please do a Bucky and y/n where she is shy but is really close to Steve and Bucky thanks their dating and he gets jealous because he loves her but they don’t really talk that much? Love your work
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“Still not ready to retire old man?” you smiled, teasingly when the blonde looked at you over his shoulder, but always with a warmth in your eyes that only longtime friends, family, at this point could have. Especially after everything you've all been through.
“What did you just call me, right now?” he narrowed his eyes at you, a lightness and easiness in both his movement and voice, as you couldn't see much of his face at that moment. Granted there was still some heaviness in the atmosphere whenever silence followed, and his moves if one was to pay close attention could notice were short and stiff. And you do notice it.
But who could blame him? Things are better than what they've been five years ago but still, that doesn't mean good. Not when people were still lost in the battle, important ones. Also family.
It's as good as it can get for now at least, and to have your best friend alive and here with you is really the second best thing at the moment. So you can't nor will complain.
“Am pretty sure you heard me. Just as I am sure that if I looked close enough, I could spot a white strand of hair here and there.” you smirked when his eyes widened “But that's not the point here. What I mean is, it's been a good couple months since you gave up that shield, and yet you're still somehow around. Changed your mind, maybe you need a new one? I saw one the other day when I was in town, I think it would suit you.”
“I'm just taking my time, it's not that easy to find an apartment in Brooklyn. You know that.” he turned to fully face you, a frown on his face but it was anything but serious as he crossed his arms over his chest “Besides, weren't you the one that said I should take as much time as I need and that this will always be my home? What happened now? Can't wait to get rid of me?”
“Oh you figured it out, at last.” you played along, letting out a long sigh of relief “Yeah, I'm so sick and tired of seeing that perfectly handsome face all the time. Distracting, taunting and at the same time reminding me of the 20 skincare products I have to use yet again tonight, to look even remotely human.”
A deep chuckle escaped his lips, the easy smile managing to warm you deep to your heart, just as much as his arms did the moment they wrapped around you "If that is to say you look like an angel otherwise, then yes I will accept it.”
“Yeah, particularly the one that rules hell.” you chuckled.
“Why do I even try to say anything nice for you in the first place?” he laughed, shaking his head.
You giggled, wrapping your arms around him as well, trying to find some comfort in your friend- in your family, before you inevitably had to throw yourself into this new world without him. The new age of heroes where many things had changed and in which you wouldn't have someone to turn to any given moment, as easily as it was with Steve. Steve had always been that important. There still was one, much more important of course, but that treacherous heart of yours made it impossible for you to even remotely think you could be so open with him as with Steve. Not without turning every shade of red there was, anyway. “In any case-” you cleared your throat “I could still get you that shield and you can be back on the business in no time. With a new title, of course, but still doing the job... which involves making me breakfast and dinner when I'm too tired. I mean, now that I think about it, you can still keep up that job even if you don't wanna be out on the field.”
“Ah so I do see why you want me to stay after all.” he nodded his head “By the way, what kind of shield are we talking about?”
“Oh it's a special one. I think it was based off a movie? You know how they are with superhero movies lately. And given how bright pink it was I'm guessing Captain Barbie or someth-” but you didn't even get to complete your sentence when a yelp left your lips and soon laughter followed. His fingers moved swiftly as he tickled your sides but you were faster at swatting his hands away.
“Fine, fine. Not a fan of cinema, I see.” you shook your head with a sigh.
“Yeah, forgive me, but we all have flaws. Even me. Is that the real reason why you want me out of here as soon as possible, maybe?” he raised an eyebrow.
“You've got me. Deep down I cannot stand the fact.” you shrugged innocently, but the smile on your lips betraying what you felt.
“Man, I feel the love. You all are glad I came back alive from returning the stones I see.” he said only as a joke, focusing back to gathering the papers filled with older drawings that he had on his table.
“... I am glad you are still here, though, Steve.” you said softly and he looked over his shoulder at you again. This time he didn't just pause, he let go of the papers and turned to face you.
“Where else would I be?” this time a frown set on his face, more serious than any other you'd seen on his face so far, because he understood what your words meant “This is where my family is.”
“Well, yeah, but I mean-” you bit the inside of your cheek and shrugged “There still were more options. More than you had before.”
“More options, yes. A need for a choice? No. I'm good, more than good. And I wouldn't change a thing about what I have here...” he shrugged softly, looking at you carefully almost with calculating eyes before he started speaking again “I mean, save for one thing I suppose. There is always-”
“Don't. Don't you even-” you gave him a sharp look, fast enough to cut him off “Not unless you want me to kick your ass out of here, right now.” you shook your head, lowering your voice “We agreed we wouldn't talk about it. You promised me you wouldn't bring it up again, Steve. You promised.”
You adored your best friend, you honestly did, but moments like this you really wished you had not told him a single word. Not that he wouldn't have figured it out by himself. He was a persistent man, standing by his opinion no matter what. And this time, seeing as he was somehow convinced your feelings could be reciprocated, he did everything in his power to convince you to act on them. He was the only one that knew the truth and you didn't really know if it was a blessing to have someone to talk to about it or a nightmare with how he acted.
“I try but it is too hard seeing how idiotic the two people closest to me can be.” he crossed his arms over his chest, making you frown for a moment in confusion “And I'm still having a hard time understanding why. I get that you have trouble opening up to people, more than just get it. I know how it is. I'm not the most open person exactly, either, and the thought of getting attached to someone is terrifying given the job we do. But it's not just someone, someone random, we're talking about here. There is nothing to be shy abo-”
“I'm not shy about a damn thing, Steve, stop saying that.” you huffed, giving him a hard look “I'm a grown-ass woman who has saved your ass and the world at the same time, more times than I can count. I'm not some schoolgirl to be shy or crushing or daydreaming or whatever word you wanna use again about- about me and you-kow-who.” the fact that you couldn't even say your name for fear of him somehow being around and hearing did make you look no more mature than a schoolgirl.
“All I'm saying is that if you opened up more, you may be surprised in ways that you couldn't even imagine.”
“Oh like him telling me he feels the same? Well, let's see: you are his best friend, practically his brother. He confides in you, trusts you with his life and everything important to him. Has he told you he sees me as anything more than a friend?”
“Well, he-” he paused “No, not really. He doesn't seem to want to talk much about it... you, with me. Like when I bring you up he gets too stiff but I- I see the way he looks at you! He may not admit it-”
“Because there is probably nothing to admit! It's all in your mind and I can't get my hopes up over just a feeling, Steve.”
“Look, all I'm saying is-” he sighed, shaking his head “All this- All this waiting, and pining because you know that's what this is-” he pointed a finger at you before you could get to retort “You know that's exactly what this is! Waiting and hoping it- it goes away somehow? That your feelings for him are something that will just pass like a scratch on knee, or that you'll cover it up and it will be like they don't exist? This is not how it works. You have to try your chance because if you don't then you'll only live to regret it, and I know you will the same I know it's not something that goes away. He may not see it, but I do. And the way you look at Buc-” he stopped himself when your eyes widened, he sighed instead and raised his arms in surrender “The way you look at him, the way you care and-” he stopped himself, shaking his head before slowly approaching you again.
“For god's sake, the way you love, (Y/n), that is not something that can easily be found. This love that you have in you, this big heart that you are so willing to give without a second thought, the care and selfless devotion is- it's one of a kind.” he slowly wrapped his arms around you, looking you carefully in the eyes “You are one of a kind. And anyone that has even part of your love should thank his lucky stars because it is a blessing to be loved by a woman like you. Waiting is one thing, but to be loved like this and not know it, it would be the biggest tragedy in one's life, (Y/n).”
You knew he was only saying everything because he wanted to help you out, to give you a push as gentle as possible towards the right direction. How right was it for you to confess to his best friend that you've always had feelings for him for so long and possible ruin the dynamics and relation you'd built with all of them (besides making a terrible fool of yourself), you didn't know. You were scared to even think of telling him the truth when you could barely utter a few words in his presence because of that treacherous heart of yours that jumped around like crazy whenever he was near.
“Says the world's leading authority on waiting too long.” you mumbled as a weak excuse, knowing he was right, and let your head rest on his chest as he tightened the hold around your waist.
“Yeah, well, speaking from experience I suppose.” he kissed the top of your head “I just want you to be happy, you know how important you are to me. And I would hate to-”
He didn't, however, get to finish his sentence when another voice was heard “Hey, Steve, you done with those-” but his words were also cut off as he breathed a low, gruff “Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.”
“Wha- No, hey, Buck. Not interrupting.” Steve gave his friend a soft smile, pulling away from you and giving you a chance to take a goo look at his friend, and a good look you did take “Just having a word here with (Y/n). Sorry to keep you guys waiting.”
“No I uh should've thought so. Judging from the heartfelt words and all that. I shouldn't have assumed you were talking to yourself, I suppose.” he was mostly speaking to Steve but his eyes were mostly on you, a soft smile on his lips though it didn't reflect on his eyes at all. After barely half a beat, he spoke to you “Hey (Y/n). How you've been?”
“Hello Bucky.” you smiled as well, your throat closing up “Good, you?” you asked and he gave you a soft nod, without taking his eyes off you. Not that you did either. How could you?
Even if somebody were to warn you about it, it would never be able enough to prepare you for what you were seeing. You always knew and would easily admit that the man was good-looking, but this- this even more attractive than you could even imagine. You had seen photos of him back in the days, with his hair shorter and his face on full display, but to see him in person was a whole other thing. It took your breath away to have his eyes fully on you and not for a second hidden. It felt like his whole face was more open, even though his features were still somewhat clouded; the weight on his shoulders wouldn't go away anytime soon that was for sure. But to be able to be like the man he was back then was more than in looks, he could slowly feel like him again.
“Because that would have made so much sense now, wouldn't it?” Steve spoke up.
“Probably. I don't know, I just heard the last sentence anyway, so-” he shrugged, his eyes only stealing a glimpse at you before looking away in what seemed like guilt which you could not understand “Apologies about that. If you guys wanna stay alone some more, I can go by the car and wa-”
“Nah we're good here, all that lady's been doing is distract me anyway.” Steve shot you a playful look “Maybe you can help me out here a bit. I'll take this bag to the car and (Y/n) can tell what else we need from the desk.”
“Alright, I-” Bucky hesitated only for a second, his eyebrows pulling into a frown when Steve all-too-eagerly grabbed his only full bag of clothes and left his room, all excited to leave you alone with Bucky and you would have glared at him if you didn't feel terrified “There he goes.” Bucky sighed before turning to you with a soft smile “Ok, so is there anything you need help with?”
“I uh ye-yeah. Steve was gonna gather his drawings next so given they're important we could... do that.” you breathed out a little hastily but also in a low voice as you rushed to get to the desk. Bucky didn't say a word himself, only letting the tense silence hang in the air; while you struggled on the inside to come up with something good enough. It wasn't just that you were shy or quiet, you were always so unsure of what was best to say to the man, fearing you'd mess it up or make a fool of yourself.
“He's got plenty of these, must have felt really inspired hm?” Bucky spoke in a soft voice, looking over at the drawings Steve had done of you. You got distracted for a moment, taking the warmth in his eyes and the smile that look bittersweet if not sad on his face.
“Uh yeah.” you cleared your throat “It was around the time I was trying to get him back to drawing after I found his art. I was a bit shy about it at first but I suppose they're good.”
“His art always was, he's got a way of bringing things to life, capturing things in a different way but this-” he pause, looking up to meet your eyes, locking them in a look that only made your knees weak if the small distance hadn't already “It would never even compare to the real thing. That is one of a kind. You've always been anyway, I don't think there is a single person that knows you and could deny that.”
“I- I'm not that special.” you could feel the heat rise up on your cheeks and forced yourself to look down.
“I didn't just say special. I said one of a kind, unique. As is... everything about you. But then again, Steve has always been lucky without even knowing it.”
Glancing at him you did notice the honesty in his eyes, the warmth that almost reached out to you like that of the sun. If it weren't for his words that had your heart hammering in your chest, you would have paid more attention to the way his smile didn't really reach his eyes or the longing with which he looked at you.
“I suppose.” you mumbled, though you couldn't understand the meaning behind his last sentence. Letting the silence fill the room again you desperately searched for something else to say. You didn't speak much with Bucky but you wanted – despite your fear – to be the one to keep the conversation going because the truth was you loved talking with him “You look good, you got a haircut.”
Well, when you weren't making a fool of yourself that is.
Bucky paused for a moment, looking at you and you really braced yourself for him to laugh at you and call you out on what a stupid thing that was to say. But instead all you got a smile that you would be damned if it wasn't shy. It was almost too sweet for your heart to take, and the way he ducked his head as if some bashful... schoolboy (you almost laughed at the word that came up in your mind) had your breath getting caught up in your throat once more. You had never seen this side of Bucky. Never.
“Yeah I uh-” he smiled, fully smiled, and your own heart jumped to your throat “I thought that maybe it was time for a change. I didn't know if I could pull it off again after all these years but I-”
“No” you whispered “No, you're- you look great, really, Buck.” you confessed softly and his smile only got bigger “Not that you didn't before, don't get me wrong. You just look like you did back in the days. I- I saw a couple photos of you and Steve, and it's- it's good. Real good.” you gave him a small nod, which he return.
The smile stayed on his lips as he admitted “Yeah, truth is Steve was the one that insisted on it for some reason.” some reason, yeah, more like you saying how good Bucky looked with short hair better yet.
“Well, I'm glad you took that choice. It does look great. And... not that I think you had any trouble before, but now you'll have all the ladies swooning over you, you will barely have time for us.”
“That would never happen, never. I would never put anyone else before you.” he spoke with so much sincerity that you had to look away for a second because of the intensity “Besides-” he cleared his throat “Looking forward to go on double dates or something? I figured you and Steve wouldn't have time for us.”
“Steve, probably, he's got a lot on his plate now. But what do I have to do with any of it?”
“I just-” he shrugged softly, frowning “I figured that moving in a new place is... a lot.”
“It is... hence Steve having a lot on his plate. I still don't get what I have to do with that? I mean, sure, I'm his best pal besides you and Sam, but it's not like I'm moving in with him or anything.” you shrugged with an smile, focusing for a few moments on the drawings before you.
“Oh I thought-” he paused, nodding his head before he let out a soft breath “Well, I suppose I was just assuming. It's not like... this changes anything, right?” his words were so hesitant that it confused for a second.
“...No? Why would it? Steve is still Steve. Things are and will continue to be the way they've always been.”
“I mean-” he cleared his throat again, shifting in his place “You two are good right? Like, together and all that, you're good?”
“Just like we've always been, Buck, I don't understand why you're asking this. Honestly... Is there something not right with you, maybe?” you asked softly, trying to meet his eyes even though he avoided it.
“No, why would there be?” he swallowed thickly, nodding to himself “And besides, I should've thought so.” he offered you a smile, albeit weak “He wouldn't have given up a chance with... A chance to the life he would've had for something that's not important. As far as that is concerned, I don't blame him. I would do the same.”
“You... you mean Peggy, don't you?”
“I-” he shrugged softly “I didn't really wanna mention her in case... Well, he did leave her for you. He stayed here, didn't go back to live his life with her. Which, again, is the right choice. To tell you the truth, I feared for a moment that we wouldn't see him come back from that time travel unless he was graying and old.” feared, and that terrible part of himself that was too selfish, hoped he would stay back in time to have his life with Peggy so that Bucky could maybe get a chance with you in case-
“But he did come back.” you whispered “And he did it for all of us, there's no reason to give me all the credit, Bucky.”
“I mean, you're still the main reason. And as I said, he did make the right choice. Hell, I know that if he had even so considered staying back there, I would have kicked his ass for it. But I guess I'm more than glad you two are so good like this, that I didn't need to.” liar, he knew he was such a big liar for saying all of it.
“Main reason, yeah sure.” you breathed out a laugh, feeling proud with yourself for how casual you sounded “Just say what's on your mind, Buck. Steve's so tired of my single sorry ass that he had to stay here to make sure I don't end up being a crazy cat lady. I mean can I blame him? No. I can't even tell the guy I... the guy I like how I feel about him.” you shrugged, not meeting his eyes.
You were saying things you never thought you would, but feeling bold maybe you would slowly get somewhere in the end “I'm sure Steve's just gonna snap one of these days and tell him 'She likes you you idiot, for fuck's sake do something cause I'm sick and tired listening to her talk about you non-stop.' and I'm not even joking. That will be it, word for word. So-” you let out a low laugh “I better hold him back huh?”
“What?” you did expect to see such a dark and serious look to meet you when you finally looked at him “What did you just say (Y/n)?”
“That... you know, with me being single all this time, Steve might try to set me up with- I'm sorry.” you shook your head “Did I say something wrong? Was it something that I-”
“You're... what?” his voice was so gruff that you felt even more worried.
But before you could voice your concerns, your best friend was walking inside the room again “Sorry for the delay, though I suppose you guys barely noticed my-” but he stopped himself when he was met with the hardest glare you had seen Bucky give his friend “Uh is everything alright?”
“We'll see about that.” his voice was deep “Come on. You. Me. Talk. You have lots explaining to do.” he took a deep breath, looking at you for a few too long seconds too many emotions on his face for you to tell apart, before looking back at his friend “And it's been long overdue.”
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bistevethor · 3 years
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Steve Rogers Fanfiction Recommendations
Happy birthday, Steve!
I know that there are some (a lot?) of steve fans who sometimes struggle to find fics focused on him, so I am here now putting a list of Steve fics. I was going to fics that I haven't seen recommended a lot and most of the ones on this post have less than 200 kudos only, but I end up putting everything (it's probably easier to put my bookmarks as public but well...). It's a massive list (over 100 fics?), so it's will be separated into several posts/reblogs.
Not all of them are from Steve's POV or even have him as the main 'main' character, but rest assured he played an important role and is featured heavily. Lots of these are friendship-focused but I categorized them. The shippy ones are mostly samsteve, thundershield, and some rare pairings because I don't venture to other ships a lot and when I did it's to the rare ones instead lol. Hopefully, any of you can find some gems from this list and these are as enjoyable or as good as I remembered. I'll continue to update it, hopefully, every time I find new ones.
Fics are under read more.
General
The Rocket's Red Glare
Steve was born on the Fourth of July (no joke), so a party is in order! Unfortunately, PTSD decides to rear its ugly head. Fortunately, Steve's got an entire team at his back to help him through it. And screaming goats.
an entry in the scrapbook of absurdity
In which Steve turns into a baby and bites people.
Baby Steve Adventures
Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him.
Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't)
"Dragr," Thor called them. "Demons" Clint had said. "Thieves" is what Steve labels them as. AKA, the one where Steve is captured by creatures that feed off of happy memories, and the team is left to pick up the pieces. Post-Avengers.
In Search of (Bucky, Family, Home)
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson
A week following the events of CATWS, Steve recruits Natasha and Sam to help find Bucky.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to recap again? You were shot three times, beaten near to death by an enhanced super soldier with a metal arm and then almost drowned. Yeah, your ass is going to need a few more days of healing time.”
The Truth When Captains Meet
Steve Rogers wakes up on an alien’s space ship being carried bridal style by Carol Danvers. As far as first meetings go, it’s memorable.
Irish Coffee
Pairings: Jessica Jones & Steve Rogers
Jessica runs into an incognito Cap at a cafe. They form an unlikely friendship of sorts.
The Lifetimes of Steve Rogers (Series)
What happens when Steve Rogers steps onto the quantum platform to return the Stones? Where does he go? What challenges does he find? Who does he meet? How many lifetimes can one man have?
Fifty-Two Pickup
Less than a week after the fall of the Triskelion, Steve Rogers is released from the hospital. Although his physical wounds are almost fully healed, other injuries need a bit more time, and some help from friends.
little kids get big so fast
Steve ends up having to take care of the deaged Defenders.
Grampa Steve's Bedtime Stories
If Mommy was away for work, then Morgan’s Grampa Steve came over to stay with her. He’d tuck her in, let her give Mommy a kiss on video chat, then hand her the picture of Daddy for his kiss. Once Daddy’s picture was back on the bookshelf, Grampa Steve would turn off the bedside lamp so that Miss Friday could cover the ceiling with stars, and ask Morgan what story she wanted to hear.
“Captain Steve, Grampa! Tell me Captain Steve!”
Grampa Steve sometimes read to her from books and other times watched a movie with her, but her favorite by far was when he told her Captain Steve’s Adventures Through the Multiverse.
On Camping Trips
Sam is more Hermione than Natasha is, and Steve doesn't want to be Harry.
Powerful
Steve loses the advantages of the super-soldier serum. This is not a tragedy.
His Dream
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze.
"Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic."
"Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow.
"How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.
The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum."
Realization clicked in Sam's head.
"The gas de-serumed you."
Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly.
OR: Steve gets temporarily de-serumed, with his height and stature staying the same but his immune system being as bad as it was before, and has to stay in the hospital to prevent a severe allergic reaction or illness. Sam stays with him the whole time, making sure he's not alone.
A Strange Encounter
Things have gone awry and Strange is injured. With no other options, he's called for assistance from Captain America and his team.
even if we're apart, i'll always be with you
Steve finds a dirty toy bear at an abandoned gas station, on the way back from a school trip. He brings him home.
As Long as You’re Not Tired Yet of Talking
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
When Steve Rogers tells her, “Don’t be a stranger,” as they’re all going their own ways after New York, it makes her want to laugh.
Draw/Breath
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
Natasha like knowing what makes people tick. She likes knowing things, about her teammates and her coworkers and herself. Oddly enough, sometimes other people like knowing her too.
AKA: Natasha wants to know why Steve isn’t drawing anymore, and takes the long way round to get her answer. Because why not.
With Magic We Do Fly
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers
In Civil War we see Wanda fling Steve into the air with her magic. They must have practiced that, right?
Que Wanda throwing Steve against a wall. Many times.
Just Like We Practiced
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers
Steve had said, in the movie when he asked Wanda to lift him into the building, "Just like we practiced." But just how did they come up with the idea of her lifting people with her powers, and putting them up somewhere like an escalator? Perhaps it was because Wanda accidentally sent a certain tall, blond Avenger face-first into the floor once and he decided he would help her learn to utilize this as a confidence building exercise. Natasha keeps an eye, Thor and Sam help build the training grounds, and Wanda has found her new home. Takes place between AGE OF ULTRON and CIVIL WAR.
Black and White but Red and Blue
They're watching black and white film reels, but Steve sees them in colour.
"My shield may be black and white but it was red and blue. Just like the blue sky under which red blood was spilled. Like Bucky's blue eyes and Peggy's red lips..."
The Road Warriors
Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff
It wasn't pretty, but somehow the four of them managed to make it through two years on the run.
We'll Fix It
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
Steve has a hard time after his battle with The Winter Soldier and isn't sure what to do with himself. After not seeing him for a week, Natasha finally shows up to his apartment unannounced to figure out how they can get back to work. There is some crying involved.
From Here On Out
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
The Accords, the search for Bucky, the fight at the airport ... In a world where nothing will ever be the same, sometimes the road to rebuilding trust and friendship is a little rockier than it should be.
AKA, the story of Steve & Natasha and how they got to where they are.
Set post-Civil War but pre-Infinity War.
I have this breath and I hold it tight
Parings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Vision
Steve finally goes to Wanda’s tiny room and taps on the doorframe, although it’s hardly necessary, with the slightly warped floorboards creaking under his feet. “Hey,” he says. “Got a minute?”
Wanda's been a little withdrawn since Steve broke everyone out of the Raft. She's had a lot to think about.
to you.
Pairings: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Tony Stark
It's Wanda's birthday today. She's not sure how to feel.
New Love
Pairings: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Steve Rogers
Near the end of World War II, Diana Prince finds herself attempting to reconnect to her long-gone, beloved Steve Trevor. However, she comes across Steve Rogers instead.
Sharing Life (And Canned Green Beans)
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
It’s Thanksgiving, and Steve is hiding in the second living room on the 8th floor of the penthouse apartments with a can of green beans.
I'm Fine
Steve slowly began to realize that the problem with being a national icon, a hero, and a role model, is that somehow, he became more than human. He become a symbol, not a person. So when he becomes increasingly unhappy, deeply depressed, and utterly adrift in a world where he doesn't belong, the loneliness and isolation are unbearable. How could anyone believe that an iconic hero like himself was really just an ordinary kid from Brooklyn, dying inside because everything he'd gained still wasn't enough to replace everything he'd lost? How could he possibly bring himself to bleed on the ones he loves? So he tells himself the same lie over and over, hoping one day, he'll believe it.
dogpile
"My dog ate my mission report" An injured Steve remembers something he has to do. Unabashed Steve and dogs fluff. "Didn't peg you for a pet guy." "Allergies."
Alone In This World (Together)
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson
“We’re fugitives,” Steve said finally. “It might never get better.”
“The world’s always going to need saving," Sam replied. "We’re still Avengers. No one can take that away from us.” Then, like they hadn't been having an entire conversation before, “So when do we leave?”
“Once night falls.”
Do we have any idea where she is?”
“No.” Steve took a sip of his coffee. “But I know where she’ll be.”
it gets the worst at night
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
Here's how it goes: Natasha sometimes shares a bed with Steve. It's not what it sounds like.
(In which there are Colombian drug lords, awkward boners, cuddly super-soldiers and the Avengers are all giant dorks.)
Shelter
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Sam and Steve, right after the fall of SHIELD.
Princely Bickering
Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Jane Foster, Steve Rogers & Thor
Steve allows Sam to lean up and inspect his head for bruises and blood. He then checks out Steve’s eyes. ‘Do you know where you are?’ Steve rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t be an ass, Cap, apparently you can break.’ ‘London, England, chasing apparently useless Hydra intel despite having about five hundred international arrest warrants out for us because we’re just that stupid,’ says Steve. Sam pats him - gently - on the shoulder. Life on the run isn't easy, especially not after an injury. Fortunately Steve still has a few allies left.
And The Seconds Tick Down
AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.
"Grant" and "Francis" Go Shopping
Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers
Steve and Clint both have holiday shopping to do for their family of choice, so they make a day trip to an outlet mall, have a few heart to hearts, use some coupons, buy a bunch of presents, and eventually get through their shopping lists.
A Tune Without Words
Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
As he and Sam prepare to begin searching for Bucky, Steve gets various offers of help—some more unexpected than others.
Purpose
Tony Stark wins the fight in Siberia completely by accident.
Steve Rogers does not resist his arrest as he is taken to the Raft.
Sam Wilson, T'Challa, and Pepper Potts pick up the pieces.
Full of Wounds and Still Standing on my Feet
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff
The five times Steve looked out for Wanda, and one time Wanda decided someone needed to look out for Steve.
Three Awakenings
The first three times that Steve Rogers woke up during his first twenty-four hours in the twenty-first century.
Making Your Own Future
Characters: Steve Rogers, Diana Prince, Steve Trevor Five times -- plus one -- that Diana Prince and Steve Rogers encountered one another.
Better Living Through Pizza
Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers
Steve takes some time off from soldiering and Avengering to get his head on straight, and Clint is assigned to keep an eye on him, because apparently SHIELD believes in the blind leading the blind. Steve really needs a hobby, since modern television shows baffle him, but Clint keeps bringing him DVDs and pizza.
Five Times Clint Barton Spoke with Steve Rogers about Growing Old and the One Time He Didn't.
Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers
When Steve Rogers reappeared from the past as an old man, there was a lot of catching up to do. Clint Barton made sure nobody got left behind.
Hammer's Totally Heavy-Handed and Incompetent Revenge
"So, at the end of IM2, Justin Hammer swears revenge on Pepper. He waits until Tony and Rhodey are halfway across the world to launch his attack.
Unfortunately for him, thanks to SHIELD, Iron Man and War Machine aren't the only superheroes in Pepper's rolladex. Steve thinks Pepper's just swell and doesn't take too kindly to somebody trying to hurt her."
Cue badass!Steve and competent!Pepper
Fan Mail
Steve starts getting his fan mail and receives an invitation to the prom. Written for a prompt at the Avengers kink meme. It was a great prompt, and so much fun to write and get feedback for!
Prom. Steve 'Grandpa Iceberg' Rogers at a 21st-century high school prom. "This isn't happening. This whole conversation is just an elaborate practical joke. Bruce really just has orders for widgets or something."
Bruce waved the printouts at him. "Fraid not. I don't really do practical jokes. Messing with other people's moods just seems. I don't know. Karmically unwise."
Mascot
Steve runs. People see Steve run. Steve gets adopted by the neighbourhood he runs through every week day morning. He finds this confusing. Tony finds it amusing.
Locks Not Replaced
Tony angsts back at Avengers' HQ, Ross is a bully and Steve makes sure he doesn't get away with it. In other words, there is much regret, a bit on the philosophy of locks, adventure and far too many Robin Hood metaphors.
woof
For a prompt on the avengers kinkmeme: "...something different happens when Steve gets Dr Erskine's serum plus the Vita ray treatment... Steve does get taller and stronger, but when the first full moon hits, he turns into a big friendly looking dog. Yes, he's a weredog, not a werewolf."
Mission: Baby
Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
The Asset finds himself in charge of the care of a small baby, but somehow he knows—he has to protect the baby from all harm, whatever the cost.
14 Tracks
Pairings: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team 14 tracks from Steve's iPod and how they got on there.
Life Will Rattle Your Bones
Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr & Steve Rogers
Captain America and the Howling Commandos find Schmidt sooner than they thought... wait, what do you mean this is a *different* Schmidt?
In war-torn Germany, the paths of Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr cross, part, and cross again.
come build me up
Pairings: Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
“Do you ever feel like -- like you joined up because you wanted to do good. You wanted to do the right thing but somewhere along the way, you just lost the whole fucking plot.”
“All of the time.”
Or: the one where Captain America and Agent 13 give long distance friendship a whirl.
Down in the Worn Out Place Again
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff
“You don't look a day over 85, Captain,” Wanda says.
Natasha smiles, just barely, and nudges Steve with her elbow. “She makes jokes now.”
(Post AoU, stories about friendship.)
Satellites
Characters: Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Nick Fury Pairings: Natasha Romanov & Steve Rogers, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
In the immediate aftermath of SHIELD's collapse and Steve's plunge into the Potomac, Natasha considers her place in the world. Also the fact that Steve is depressing.
Timeless Classics
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Avengers Team Five An undetermined number of times (six, apparently) Steve unexpectedly got the reference (sort of), and one time everyone discovered something new together.
you just wait and see
Pairings: Rocket Raccoon & Steve Rogers
“Thor said you’re the captain.” Rogers says, his voice distant, sad smile growing into a sadder grin. “Tough job.”
The Small Hours
Pairings: Steve Rogers & T'Challa, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
"I'm not getting him back, am I." The words were flatly delivered – not a question so much as fatigued resignation. "We will do everything we can to help him," T'Challa quietly replied, but he wouldn't lie, not about this. Not to a fellow warrior he respected on and off the field of battle. "The possibility does exist, however, that the triggers are permanent."
The Man We All Remember From the Newsreels
Still getting used to the twenty-first century, Steve comforts himself with memories of long-gone friends. But Howard Stark, the man Steve remembers, is nothing like the man he sees in the newsreels.
we're all choir boys at best
Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm
You are totally getting laid tonight. "Please stop talking." You hijacked my brain first, this is totally not my fault.
Epistaxis
Steve doesn't worry the first time he gets a bloody nose that won't quit. But when it happens a second, third, fourth... He, and his teammates, start to get concerned.
You Close Your Eyes and the Glory Fades
His body isn’t his own, he knows that, knew before the procedure that everything would change. That was the easiest thing to wrap his head around, actually, the physical changes. He’s used to his body betraying him, so this is just another thing to learn his way around. But the colors of everything, even the sliver of blue sky he could see, craning his head at the tiny window, look different.
Looking For Answers (From The Great Beyond)
After the Battle of New York is over, and Loki and the tesseract are returned to Asgard, Steve takes a road trip across the country, and tries to figure out what he wants to do next.
Mourning the Future
Steve's ties to the past and the future are pretty tenuous, and the serum ensures he lives in an eternal present state of ever-youthful vigour. When an old war buddy gets handed his last marching orders, Steve has to wonder if everyone will eventually leave.
Riviera Life
Sam and Steve have been traversing Europe looking for Bucky. Not everyone is convinced it isn’t an open invitation road trip.
Voluntary Bros.
Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm
"Dude, you could be twins, they tested you before they defrosted you to see if you were a clone or something, or if he was a clone," Clint said.
"I want to talk to him, I think. I mean, a girl threw her latte at me last week for not calling her back and this dude felt me up at an art gallery yesterday," Steve said.
Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple
Pairings: Miles Morales & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”
“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.
... in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.
Battle Fatigue
Steve thought he was doing okay. Things weren't going great, but they were fine, manageable even, and then suddenly they weren't.
We Become New Yorkers (or: Five Times Steve Rogers Looked For Home, and One Time Home Found Him)
New York is a million cities at the same time. This is how Steve found his.
A beautiful day in the neighborhood
In which Steve and Peter learn that the best way to get through a bad situation is together. And to avoid collapsing buildings. And that concussions are terrible, terrible things.
Leviticus 25
"You want to save Bucky Barnes? You are going to have to put your own house in order first because he is going to need a rock to cling to. You are not ready to be that rock for him. You owe it to him -- and more importantly, you owe it to yourself -- to figure things out, figure out how you can be happy in this time and place, whether or not Barnes is with you."
Strike
Sometimes the road to recovery involves bowling. Conveniently, so does the one to the Grand Canyon.
Conversation in Wakanda
“I have been told that you had the privilege to share a training session with some of our Dora Milaje,” T’Challa says. “May I ask how it went?”
“Well,” the Captain huffs. “There’s no polite way to say it: I had my ass handed to me. Repeatedly.”
He sounds and looks utterly delighted.
Contact Light
Everyone thought computers would be the thing that really blew Steve's mind about the 21st century. They were wrong. When he finds out that he missed the moon landing, it's the start of an ongoing obsession with space that maybe involves Neil deGrasse Tyson, Twitter, and Star Trek marathons.
Twenty-Two
“This is Lucky,” Clint said when a dog got between him and Natasha. Lucky’s vest was bright, like desert mornings and night explosions.
“Does he help?” Natasha asked.
Clint pressed his hands flat on the counter behind him. “He saved my life.”
Natasha looked at Steve, her expression fierce. Steve resisted the urge to yank down his sleeves. Instead, he dug his nails into the puckered skin on his forearms.
AKA An AU in which Steve is a veteran just trying to survive (or not).
Gray
Peter doesn't expect Steve to show up at his house one night when he gets home from school. He also doesn't expect to have a long conversation with him, and choose to be on his side instead.
We're Happy, Free, Confused, and Lonely at the Same Time.
"Tony isn't sure, but he *thinks* Steve Rogers is going to try and argue with him about not being a kid, while wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and plaid pyjama pants watching a Disney movie. Tony really hopes that is the case. The Captain America voice looses all affect when wrapped up in that blanket and Tony can't wait to inform him as such." - The one where Tony realises that Captain America and Steve Rogers are not the same person, and Steve is so much younger then he thought.
This Isn't A Love Song, This Isn't A Fable
Steve's not OK with people's perception of Captain America, no matter what he says or how much he pretends otherwise. It's like no one in this time period realizes that there's more to him than a spangly outfit. And yes, he's including the Avengers in that. ... or, the one where everything's all right, until it's not.
it's safe here in our new world
Post TWS. In which Natasha and Steve go shopping, have Thursday night movie nights, and learn that Natasha loves to platonically kiss Steve. Which is good, because Steve loves being platonically kissed by Natasha.
Shadowboxing
Pairings: Matt Murdock & Steve Rogers
It doesn’t matter how many times you fall – what matters most is how many times you get back up. Steve Rogers knew this lesson far too well and it was one Matt Murdock had endured all his life. With both men at their lowest, could a chance friendship bring each of them to their feet again?
Everybody Eats When They Come to My House
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
“You’ll ruin your dinner,” Sam says, gesturing with Steve with his spatula.
i fear for the calendar; its days are numbered
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Before she goes off the grid, Natasha gives Steve her phone number. He’s honored that he’s the only one to be trusted with it, but quickly learns that she spends most of her free time texting him Dad jokes.
Status Quo Ante
Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
A tale in which Sam suspects he should be used to this by now, for values of 'this' that involve certain folks he hangs out with and situations he finds himself in, Team Cap becomes Team Ex-Cap becomes TBD, and nobody but Clint really wants to know what happened to Scott Lang's GI Joes. (Sam Wilson from the final scene to the mid-credits scene.)
The Glass Parade
Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Steve thinks that he’s seen Natasha be at least three different people in the short time he’s known her, and he isn’t sure which one is real.
In which the most confusing part of the future is how much Steve has in common with Natasha, and the fact that she seems dead-set on being his friend.
Still Life
Steve Rogers and a very modern form of art therapy. (The one where Steve draws himself out of despair and into some notoriety when his cartoons hit the internet, but he's still not allowed to look at Tumblr without an okay from Pepper.)
Selective Service
The serum's given Steve a lot, but it hasn't taken anything away from him. Not even the things he never wanted in the first place.
I'm a Hustler, Baby
Steve Rogers has a talent for pool--and for making others believe he's terrible at it.
The Healing Properties of Felt-Tip Pens
Rapid healing has worked wonders on Steve Rogers' body, but occasionally it really screws with his head. In the aftermath of torture, Bruce Banner helps Steve to reconcile mind and body.
If I Die Before I Wake
It's his job, as their leader, to endure the sadistic focus of their captor, and that is the one thought that carries Steve through.
Even Gods Do
Captain America doesn't have a good relationship with sleep anymore. Also, he's not a toy.
Under My Skin
Written for a prompt on avengerkink: I want to see something where, for whatever reason, Steve's accelerated healing turns out to be a bad thing. Something where the faster healing is making things worse. I would prefer something other than the standard, super-healing allows for more torture without death. “He's lucky – to have the serum, to have you all.” Tony wasn't sure about that first part. When one faced death and destruction every day on the job, there were many advantages to having a healing factor...and a great many disadvantages as well.
A Glossary of the 21st Century
Pairings: pre-Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Steve's sick of not understanding what's going on, and the team are not all that helpful, so he starts keeping an illustrated notebook for further research. With the help of wiki, google and Logan he starts to settle in and find his place in the twenty-first century.
Blanket Gift Policy
“You didn’t,” Bucky said, with no real hope of being contradicted. Clint shrugged helplessly and passed him the large, soft bundle wrapped in shiny purple foil.
“Sorry.” Tony covered his eyes with one hand.
“I’m getting a migraine.”
“So,” Bruce said wearily, “counting Clint, me, Bucky, Tony, and Sam, that brings it up to five.”
“Excuse you, mine’s not a blanket,” Sam said. “Mine’s a slanket. Big difference.”
Bucky resisted the urge to throw the whole heap of parcels at Sam’s head. “Because it has sleeves? It’s still a blanket, Wilson. They’re all blankets. Even Thor’s direct-from-Asgard raven gift delivery was a cloak, which just means it’s a blanket with a strap. We all got Steve a goddamn blanket.”
One Tin Soldier
Written for a prompt at avengerkink: Because really, under any other circumstances, why would they follow him when he's some guy who's younger than the rest of them (time as a Capsicle aside), who goes around wearing that spangly outfit, who's not even used to the modern world? Why Steve Rogers, rather than a Norse god or the CEO of Stark Industries or anyone else?
“Love is for children,” she'd said, but respect knew no such bounds. The five times the Avengers accepted Steve as their leader, and the one time they followed without question.
and if there's life we'll see it
Steve is instantly taken with this idea of having the picture of the person calling you flash on your screen when they ring your cell.
Secure Your Own Oxygen Mask (Before Assisting Others)
Steve keeps going, because they need him. Being Captain America - having the serum - is a responsibility and a privilege he takes seriously, and he won't waste it by sitting around resting in the middle of a crisis. But then the work is over, and the original victims of the crisis aren't the only ones needing looking after.
Way of the Eagle
Clint introduces Steve to kung-fu movies. Things escalate quickly.
Walking Wounded
In the aftermath of the battle against the Chitauri, Steve's doing just fine. Until he's not. Fortunately, Thor is a perfect mother-hen, Tony makes decent back-up, JARVIS is a genius, and Soap Operas are life-changing. (Or, Post-Shawarma Feels.)
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tuiccim · 3 years
Text
Terrigenisis (Part 18)
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Pairing: Stucky x Inhuman!Reader
Word Count: 1350
Summary: After undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to life as a civilian. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild. As you hone your powers and skills, you must also decide if you can find home and love again. Or is your curse to be a lonely wanderer forever?
Warnings: Fluff, Smut (NSFW 18+)
Dividers by @fireflygraphics
Terrigenisis Series Masterlist
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A successful mission complete, Steve, Bucky, and Sam are heading home. Steve stands at the back of the quinjet staring out of a window without really seeing anything. 
“I can see the wheels turning.” Bucky quips as he comes to stand beside him. “Mission or something else?”
“Peggy,” Steve says quietly. 
Bucky lowers his head, unsure how to feel when he brings her up. 
“She wasn’t my first love, Bucky. I know that’s what you think,” Steve says. 
“I don’t remember there being anyone before her. Who was it?” Bucky grins. 
“You.” Steve smiles into Bucky’s eyes. 
“Steve, you don’t have to say that.” 
“It’s the truth, Buck. I was always in love with you. I need you to know that. Always.” 
“I was, too.” Bucky smiles as he leans to kiss him. 
Steve returns the kiss and then gazes through the window again, “I loved Peggy. I did.”
“I know you did, Steve. She loved you, too.” Bucky reassures him. 
“She was brave and smart. Moral, beautiful, fearless. I would have married her, had kids, had a life with her and I would have been happy if I hadn’t gone in the ice.”
“Okay?” Bucky furrows his brow.
“But I think I went into the ice for a reason… I realized that while I loved Peggy, we weren’t meant to end up together. I’m not comparing them. They’re both their own person.”
“You mean Peggy and Y/N,” Bucky clarifies.
“I loved Peggy. I still love her. She was an incredible person. But I was wrong about her.” Steve looks at Bucky.
“What?”
“She wasn’t my first love like you thought or the love of my life like I thought. You were my first love and I realize now that you and Y/N are the loves of my life. I almost ruined everything. I’m so sorry. But I know, I know now. I want this forever. Us, The three of us. If you’ll both still have me.”
Bucky looks into Steve’s eyes tenderly. His hand comes up to caress Steve’s face, “I’m with you til the end of the line. Always and forever.” 
“Now I just hope she will.” Steve sighs. 
“Only one way to know for sure.” Bucky says. 
“I want to get married. To you. To both of you. Marry me?” Steve holds his breath. 
Bucky grins widely, “Yes. And yes let’s ask her.” 
---
A few hours later, you’re surprised when Steve walks into your bedroom. 
“Hey Love. What are you doing back? Where’s Buck-,” your words are cut of as Steve advances on you, lifts you against the wall, and kisses you fiercely. When he lets up enough to let you breathe, you stare at him. 
“Sorry. Mission went faster than expected. Bucky and Sam are handling the hand off. I needed to see you.”
“Why?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, Stevie.” You say, feeling confused. 
“No, I mean, what I’m trying to say… You’re the love of my life. You and Bucky. I realized something. Why I was so angry with you before. It was fear and anger with myself and denial. I love you and I’m so sorry,” Steve presses his forehead to yours, “I want… I need you to know that. I need you to understand that you and Bucky are everything to me. I love you. I think you’re the reason Bucky and I survived. We were meant to find you. I love you so much. I’ll do anything to make up for-”
“Steve!” you cut off his torrent of words, “I love you, too. I feel the same for you and Bucky. I’m home when I’m with you. I forgive you. I’m with you until the end of the line. You’re my home. You and Bucky,” you kiss Steve with the same desperation he had kissed you with. A need for you to cement your words into understanding. When you pull away, you smile with tears on your face, “Stevie?”
“Yeah, doll?”
“Make love to me.” 
“You’re… you’re sure?” Steve looks at you wide-eyed. 
“Please, Stevie, I need you,” you whisper. 
Clothes are discarded as Steve backs you to the bed. Your lips barely part as you caress each others’ bodies, stoking the fire that burns inside for each other. When your legs with the edge of the bed, you sit down and scoot back. Steve follows you down and seals your mouth with his. You moan into the intense kiss as his cock nudges at you. 
“Doll?” Steve asks. 
You answer immediately understanding the statement and question laced in the endearment, “Yes. Need you.”
Steve presses in and your body gives in to him willingly. His thick length spears you open and you throw back your head as the sensation overwhelms you. When he’s fully seated inside you, he presses his forehead to yours, “Fuck. Could come right now, sweetheart. Missed feeling you around me. Missed you.”
“I missed you, too, Stevie. I love you,” you moan. 
Steve starts with slow strokes and with each one he moans, “Love you.” until the words become an incoherent chant as he speeds up. His hips grinding against you with each thrust. It isn’t long until the coil n you tightens and you know Steve is close after his penance of non-touch. 
“Steve, oh God, I’m coming.” The spasms overpower you as Steve works you through your orgasm, feeling every clench until he finally allows his own orgasm to overtake him. He thrusts languidly into you as he works through the aftershocks. 
“I love you so much.” He whispers again.
“I love you, too.” You gasp as his hips continue to thrust. He still feels incredibly hard inside of you. 
Steve surprises you when he pulls out, slips you onto your stomach and enters you again from behind. He stretched over you and holds your hands in his over your head. He rolls his hips slowly bringing himself in and out of you at a new angle that hits against your g spot perfectly. The slow pace is good at first but you find yourself wanting more. 
“Steve?”
“Yeah, baby? You okay?” Steve whispers  in your ear.
“I need you. More,” you whimper. 
“What do you need?”
“Fuck me, baby. Hard. I need to feel it.” 
“Fuck, doll. You always know how to drive me crazy,” Steve pulls out and slams back into you. His strength and pace push you into the mattress with each stroke. His hips slapping against your ass obscenely as he does. 
“Fuck! Yes! Give me all of it, baby,” you cry. 
Steve fucks you like a piston. You know you’ll be a bit sore later but for now the sensations he is evoking are overpowering every sense. The pleasure building borders on pain from his near brutal thrusts. Filthy words fall from his mouth as he praises you. Your body tightens and you’re practically drooling feeling his cock hitting you so deep. You begin to tremble and with a long moan you come all over Steve’s cock for a second time. Steve lets out a hoarse cry as he reaches his end.  
He rolls you both to your sides still inside of you. Once your breathing slows, Steve hugs you tightly against him and asks, “Can we stay like this for a little while? I just want to be close to you right now.”
“As long as you like, baby.”
“Now we just need Bucky to get back.” 
“How long will it take for the hand off?” you ask.
“Not long. They’ll be back tonight.”
“Mmm, good. Tony’s party is tomorrow night. I’m glad you’ll both be here for it. Sam’s supposed to bring his girlfriend. I haven’t met her yet.”
“Neither have I,” Steve says sleepily. After a few minutes, you thought he had drifted off to sleep when you feel a kiss pressed to your shoulder and softly spoken words in you ear, “I love you.” 
You grin, “I love you. Always.” 
Steve’s breathing evens out after a few minutes and, following his lead, you drift off to sleep, too. Safe at home. 
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Part 19
Tuiccim’s Masterlist 
Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series will be made on Thursdays and Sundays Central Time Zone. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction​ and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support! 
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Note
For the birthday prompt: [Winteriron or Stuckony] Omega Tony soothing Alpha Bucky after a panic attack/nightmare shortly after they get him back to the Tower/Compound. Maybe a little bit of the team being overprotective on the omega genius and had been keeping him away from the "dangerous" and traumatized alpha assassin. But in the end, Tony just struts in like it's nothing and Bucky just f'ing melts to do whatever Tony says (in a sweet way, not a creepy one). Please?
Tumblr is doing weird things with the asks so if this doesn’t work, bear with me and I’ll post the story in the notes.
This story got a little bit (okay, maybe more than a little bit) away from me so I hope this is still what you were hoping for! I went the Stuckony route here and I’m also headcanoning that after a few years of dating Steve, Tony has mostly gotten over his emotional constipation.
As always, everything I write is on ao3 but tumblr doesn’t like links so I’m not including that
~
The first time Tony sees Bucky Barnes, it’s through a screen.
It’s the first real lead they’ve had in months, since the flurry of sightings immediately following SHIELD’s collapse. The team had sent Natasha and Clint to check it out. They’re both betas, and Nat’s ability to control the calming pheromones all betas let off gives them an edge over an alpha they suspect is on the verge of going feral.
He’s not on the verge, Tony realizes when he sees Barnes on the screen for the first time. He is feral.
Eyes clearly gone red, clear even through the low saturation of the screen, baring his fangs at Natasha and Clint as they cautiously approach, growling so fiercely that the other people in the market are giving him a wide berth as they peer at him fearfully from under their lashes—Bucky has been pushed past the point of breaking into ferality. It’s not surprising. Their entire world crashing down—literally, in this instance—would be a lot for any alpha to handle, but for one trying to deal with seventy years of brainwashing and amnesia? Yeah, Tony’s not surprised.
There’s something slightly terrifying about it. Alphas going feral is supposed to be a nightmare story, something you tell children about at night to scare them into being good. It’s not supposed to be something you see in a crowded marketplace. And when Tony thinks about how easy it would be for something to go wrong, if they’d sent someone other than Nat or Clint—like Steve who had wanted so badly to be the one to bring his friend in or even Tony with his omega pheromones evolved to tempt alphas into paying attention to him and only him—he shudders.
But—there’s something almost piteous about it too. It’s clear that Bucky is terrified beneath his snarling veneer, clear that he doesn’t fully understand what’s happening, and something in Tony’s heart shifts the same as it had the first time he saw Steve.
Something thrums deep inside him to the tune of mine.
“I can help,” he says.
Beneath him, Steve shifts uneasily, saying, “Tony—”
“I want to,” he interrupts. He turns, Steve’s arm sliding from his stomach to his hip, and rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, watching Nat raise her hands placatingly out of the corner of his eye. “I’ve had six months to get used to—everything. It wasn’t his fault, I know that, and—and you still love him, Steve, I know you do.”
“I love you,” Steve says, which isn’t really much of an argument.
“I know.” He smiles when Steve rolls his eyes at the well-worn response. “But you love him too. And… he feels like you did when we first met.”
He can feel Steve tense, and he tucks his head deeper into the crook of Steve’s neck, purring quietly to force him to calm. He knows his alpha is only worried about his safety. Bucky isn’t the same person he once was and even if Steve still has feelings for him, it’s only instinct to be worried about the omega he’s also in love with. But he doesn’t need to be worried. Tony is more than capable of taking care of himself and his own instincts are screaming that Bucky won’t hurt him, that Bucky is his. Only once Steve is fully relaxed again does he continue, “Please, Steve. I want to help. I want to know him better and I want to know if what I’m feeling about him is real. Let me?”
Steve sighs but Tony feels his lips curve upwards where they’re pressed against his hair. “I don’t let you do anything.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
~
Bucky is still feral by the time he, Nat, and Clint return to the tower, but it’s tinged now with panic. Tony can smell the sour scent it all the way from where he and the rest of the team are waiting in the kitchen and Bucky’s still outside. He’s not sure if that says something about his strength as an alpha or the depths of his panic, but either way, it’s not good. He glances again at the screen where he can see Natasha trying to calm Bucky down enough to get him to enter the building—the windows blacked out so that Bucky doesn’t panic further at the sight of the team just inside the landing pad—but it’s no dice.
“I’m going out there,” he announces.
It’s meant to just let everyone know that he’s going, but everyone else seems to take it as an invitation to stop him. The noise in the kitchen swings up into an uproar. Even Steve, who knows that he has every intention of helping, has tucked him up against his side, keeping him from taking a single step out of the kitchen.
“He’s dangerous,” Bruce argues once the initial noise has died down a little. It’s telling that Steve doesn’t immediately argue with him the way he normally does when someone says something bad about Bucky.
“We’re all dangerous,” Tony shoots back, ineffectually trying to wriggle his way out of Steve’s arms. “I’m dangerous and biology practically dictates that my orientation is about as dangerous as a bunny rabbit.”
Steve, who has been on the receiving end of Tony’s intense heats, snorts.
“Look,” he continues, “Nat’s not having any luck getting him to calm down enough to come inside and right now I’m really worried he’s going to either steal the Quinjet and take off or jump off the tower and take off. Either option comes with a lot of paperwork that I have to sign so I’d prefer it if he just came inside so why can’t I try? We can’t send another alpha out there, he’ll take that as a sign of aggression, and we can’t send Sam. The last time Bucky met him, he kicked him off a helicarrier. So that means we’re down to me. Sucks that it’s me but I’m our best option.”
“If he hurts you—” Steve begins.
“He won’t,” Tony says softly and turns so he can nose at Steve’s scent glands. “You won’t let him. I know you’ll be right there, ready if something goes wrong.”
Steve clearly still doesn’t want to let him go out there but his arms loosen enough for Tony to slip away. He smiles at the others, hiding his own nerves beneath a façade of self-confidence that he absolutely doesn’t feel. It’s not like any of them are wrong: feral alphas are dangerous, and this one is more dangerous than most. But he’s not wrong either: Bucky is in more danger the longer he stays out there. Hydra is searching for him and it was sheer luck that the Avengers found him first. But he doesn’t know how long that luck will hold, so the quicker they can bring him in out of the cold, the happier he’ll be.
He straightens his shirt and steps outside, ignoring the way the rest of the team trails him to the door. Bucky’s red eyes snap instantly to him. It’s unsettling, a little terrifying, and Tony has to stop himself from reaching for his sunglasses or from jamming his hands in his pockets. Instead, he holds himself loose and open, hands at his side and palms open so Bucky doesn’t think he’s hiding a weapon in his fists.
“Tony, what do you think you’re doing?” Clint murmurs, alerted to his presence by the sound of the door closing. Natasha is still concentrating on Bucky, trying to soothe him. Even from where he’s standing, he can feel her pheromones washing calm over him and he revises his plan to include her. He’s never felt this kind of strength from her before but he’d be an idiot not to use it.
“It’s okay,” he says, keeping his eyes fixed on Bucky, who’s growling lowly now. “Go back inside, Natasha and I have got this.”
“Can’t do that,” Clint says. “Steve would have my head if—”
“Steve’s my backup. He’s right inside. Go inside; I can’t calm Bucky down if he’s worrying about you.”
“But—”
“Please.”
He thinks it’s the please that does it. By now, the team knows that the whole Tony Stark doesn’t use social niceties thing is bullshit but he still spends so much time in the workshop, and so much time teasing the others when he’s not working, that it’s still an indicator that he’s completely serious about something.
Clint doesn’t waste time asking any other questions. He, more than anyone else on the team except for Steve, knows better than to underestimate people and question them when they’re confident. And Tony is about as confident as he can be. There are ways that this can go wrong, absolutely, but they’re running out of options and what he’s about to try is something that’s been scientifically proven to be effective.
He doesn’t watch Clint go, though Bucky does, only to snap his gaze right back to Tony as soon as Tony takes a step forward. He places a hand on Natasha’s shoulder as he passes her, murmurs into her ear too low for even supersoldiers to hear, “Keep up the good work. You’re helping,” and comes to a stop within armlength of Bucky, knowing that Bucky could easily reach out and hurt him if he wanted to.
It seems to throw Bucky off, who blinks at him. Tony smiles at him and reaches up to his neck, loosening the scent blocker just enough to dilute the bonded scent pouring off of him and allow his own to filter in.
Bucky blinks again. “Omega,” he says eventually, voice rusty with disuse.
Tony smiles again. “That’s right.”
“And… Stevie?” Bucky guesses. In that moment, he sounds so young that it makes Tony’s heart break. Bucky had his future stolen away from him just the same as Steve did. He can’t fully regret that because it brought them both to him, but he knows how much pain and healing Steve had had to go through after waking up in this century and he knows what Bucky will still have to do, and he hurts for them.
“Steve’s my alpha,” he says. “Do you remember Steve?”
Bucky hesitates and then slowly nods. The red is slowly starting to recede from his eyes—though Tony isn’t sure that has anything to do with what he’s doing or if it’s just because he’s managing to baffle the alpha—and then Natasha shifts. It’s nothing more than a twitch of her leg but Bucky instantly notices it.
Before Tony realizes it, Bucky has snatched him to him, tucked him behind the mass that makes up Bucky’s body, and is snarling at Natasha, eyes scarlet red again. Just barely, he sees the door start to open and if it does, if the team comes out of it ready to fight, they’ll lose Bucky.
“No!” he shouts, startling Bucky. It’s enough though. The door pauses. Tony can see Steve through the crack, looking terrified, but he isn’t hurt. He’s okay. Bucky hasn’t done anything other than seemingly try to protect him.
He darts in front of Bucky again, wraps his arms around his shoulders, and tugs him down to his neck, tucking his face into the loosened scent blocker so he can inhale both Steve and Tony.
“Settle,” he commands. It’s usually a command an alpha uses for their omega but there’s precedence of omegas using it too. He draws on every ounce of strength he typically reserves for the boardroom and pushes it into his voice, ordering him again when Bucky lets out an answering growl.
It takes a moment but Bucky suddenly melts, going limp and boneless against him. Tony’s only half-expecting it; the alpha’s weight takes him by surprise and they sink to the ground, Bucky taking in huge gasping breaths as he breathes in their combined scents.
“Oh my darling,” Tony whispers, hands coming up to stroke through Bucky’s hair. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
~
Without quite meaning to, Bucky ends up moving into the guest room on his and Steve’s floor. Tony means to put Bucky on his own floor but then Bucky spends the afternoon following him docilely around the common areas, as sweet now as he was feral a few hours earlier. The others still seem a little wary but as time passes and it becomes obvious that Tony is in fact doing some good, they start to relax. By the time they’d be heading up to bed, Bucky is stretched out on the couch, head on Tony’s lap and feet tucked under Steve’s legs, as the team watches a movie.
“I think he’s imprinted on you,” Clint observes dryly as he heads for the elevator. “Like a duck.”
Tony doesn’t look up from where he’s carding his fingers through Bucky’s hair but he feels the alpha tense. “That’s okay, darling,” he comments idly. “I’m pretty sure Steve and I imprinted on each other once we started living together too.”
Natasha groans. “Don’t remind me. It was like watching a Disney movie without the singing animals.”
“Disney movie?” Bucky asks, voice muffled by Tony’s thigh.
“I’ll show you,” Tony assures him.
The rest of the team starts slowly filtering out until it’s just the three of them. Tony and Steve exchange a look over Bucky’s head, not needing to communicate with words after the years they’ve spent together. They’re both concerned about where Bucky will sleep tonight. With a quick glance toward Bucky and a tilt of his eyebrows, Steve tells him that he would be more than happy with Bucky staying with them, but he’ll leave the decision up to Tony. No one likes the scent of a distressed omega after all, and the easiest way to end up with a distressed omega is by inviting someone into their space that they don’t want there.
Fortunately, Tony would be more than happy with Bucky there. He hadn’t been joking when he’d said that one look at Bucky and it had felt like they were meant for each other, just as it had felt with Steve—and, he suspected, just as it had felt with Steve and Bucky, even if they’d never made a move.
But he wants the choice to be Bucky’s, so he gently lifts his hands away from Bucky’s hair and asks, “Bucky? Do you want to have your own floor? We’ve got a few extras for when we expand the roster. Or you could stay on our floor, if you’d prefer?”
Bucky doesn’t even hesitate to say, “With you.”
He knows Bucky doesn’t mean it the way he wants, doesn’t mean that he’ll join them in their bed, but maybe… Maybe someday, once Bucky is better (he isn’t so naïve as to think this is the end of it; he only has to look at his own history with backsliding after Afghanistan and Stane and the palladium reactor to know that) and if he and Steve can figure out the right words to invite someone into a triad bond…
Well. Maybe someday.
~
He wakes up in the middle of the night to Steve gently shaking his shoulder. “Waz wrong?” he mumbles, blearily rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Did I have a nightmare?”
“No, sweetheart,” Steve whispers, leaning over to kiss his bare shoulder. “Bucky wanted to know if he could join us. Said he was worried about Hydra.” He doesn’t say if Bucky was worried about Hydra taking him away or someone else, Tony or Steve, he notes, but the answer is the same either way.
“’Course he can, long as he’s not a blanket hog.”
He fully expects Bucky to climb in on Steve’s other side. It only makes sense: the two grew up together so of course, Steve would be the middle in this instance. Instead, Steve tugs Tony closer to him so that he’s spooning up behind him, and Bucky crawls under the blankets so that he’s facing Tony, looking more relaxed as soon as his head hits the pillow.
Huh. Maybe there’s something to what Clint was saying about Bucky imprinting on him. He would be more worried, but alphas don’t imprint on someone unless they feel safe with them, unless there’s the beginning stirrings of a mating bond in the back of their mind, even though a full bond takes time, communication, and love to develop. Considering that Tony’s pretty sure he’s imprinted on Bucky the same way, he really isn’t that concerned about Bucky’s feelings.
Still though, he makes a note to sit down and talk with Bucky eventually about how they can’t just rush into this. They’ve all been through too much to immediately strike up a relationship. Bucky isn’t in the right mental state at the moment. And as for Tony, he wants to make sure they’re all on the same page and that Bucky won’t regret this two years down the line. Hell, he’s still uncertain that Steve won’t regret this at some point, so he definitely wants to know that Bucky’s sure of his feelings.
But that’s a problem for tomorrow-Tony, he decides. Tonight, he’s going to snuggle into his alpha’s warmth and enjoy having Bucky close by instead of somewhere out in the world where Tony can’t keep him safe.
~
The next day is weirder. Not in a bad way! Just—here: when Tony finally drags himself away from the warm spots in the bed that his mates (not his mates; his mate and his mate’s best friend… who might one day be his mate), makes his way into the kitchen, and sleepily grumbles, “Coffee,” there are suddenly two steaming mugs in front of him, one from Steve and one from—someone else. He raises his eyes slowly to where Bucky is watching him with hopeful eyes. That answers that question then.
“Uh, thanks, Snowflake,” he says and takes a cautious sip out of the one Bucky put down. It’s not that he thinks it’s poisoned. It’s just that Bucky has been here for less than twenty-four hours, there’s no way that he know how exacting Tony can be about his coffee, how particular—how—how…
Huh. This is pretty damn perfect actually.
He takes another, larger sip and then looks at where Steve is busy making breakfast for the three of them. Steve watches him with an amused look in his eyes. Tony knows Steve isn’t concerned about someone else preparing his coffee—Bruce has done it plenty of times and whenever Rhodey’s in town, he insists that he’s the only one who can make Tony’s coffee—he’s just enjoying watching the two of them together.
He thinks about the nights he used to wake from a dead sleep to the sound of Steve weeping over Bucky, about the concerns he used to share with Tony that Bucky wouldn’t want to stay with them or would want to leave. He wonders now how much of that was fear that Tony wouldn’t want Bucky to stay because he wouldn’t be able to stomach housing the person Hydra used to kill his parents. Silly alpha, he thinks fondly. As though Tony wouldn’t love anyone Steve loves.
At least that’s a fear he can put to rest.
Gulping down half his coffee in one go, he leans back in his chair and casually says, “Steve, you’re fired. Pack your things and go. I’m keeping this one. His coffee is lightyears ahead of yours.”
Steve bursts out laughing and crosses the kitchen to pull him up and kiss him soundly. Tony purrs into the kiss, answered with a low rumble from Steve and then, so low he almost misses it—another rumble from Bucky. He smiles triumphantly and pulls away with another kiss, hands resting on Steve’s broad chest.
“Better finish up that breakfast, soldier,” he says teasingly. “Got things to do today in the workshop and I need my alpha down there to stand around and look pretty. You too, Bucky Babe,” he calls over his shoulder. “Universe gave me two supersoldiers, be a shame not to take advantage of that.”
He doesn’t know what Bucky looks like but the kitchen suddenly scents like contended alpha, and he knows it’s not Steve’s scent because he knows Steve’s scent as well as he knows his own. He smiles again, nuzzles deeper into Steve’s chest and hums happily.
It’s not perfect yet, he thinks, but soon—soon it will be.
~
Tony was right that first day—it takes time, months really. Time for Bucky to backslide and Steve to backslide and Tony to back-shimmy because he doesn’t do anything as gauche as slide. It takes months of therapy, days of consultation with the world’s top experts on how to remove the brainwashing and programming from Bucky’s brain, hours of working together in the workshop on Bucky’s arm as Tony comes up with improvement after improvement.
It’s countless bad nights where Bucky wakes up in a nightmare and reaches to strangle Steve—never Tony, never his omega, but always his best friend—and countless bad days afterward trying to convince him to come back to their bed. It’s figuring out how to work around the myriad of triggers all three of them have and sometimes it doesn’t work. Sometimes Bucky doesn’t realize that Tony can’t handle baths anymore. Sometimes Steve doesn’t notice that Bucky’s afraid of heights. Sometimes Tony misses that it’s the anniversary of Bucky falling from the train.
It’s bad sometimes.
But it’s good sometimes too.
It’s figuring out how they curl around each other in bed and waking up warm and rested. It’s feeding each other by hand in the morning when they’re too tired to bother with silverware. It’s cups of coffee and donuts with sprinkles and warm hugs. It’s Bucky resting his head on Tony’s lap and tucking his feet under Steve’s legs during movie nights.
It’s Tony and Steve dancing together around the kitchen island as Bucky cooks, watching them fondly. It’s Bucky crooning old songs from the 40s when Steve’s on a mission and Tony can’t sleep without his alpha. It’s Steve and Bucky spending hours walking the streets of Brooklyn, reminiscing about growing up together.
It’s love, blooming slowly but surely for everyone to see.
And when one night as Tony is changing out of the charcoal suit he’d worn for the board meeting that day and into his pajamas and Bucky stops him with a hoarsely whispered, “Doll,” he smiles and guides Bucky’s hand to his waist.
“It’s okay, darling” he murmurs. “You can.”
Bucky’s kiss, when it comes, feels like coming home.
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marvelsbanner · 4 years
Text
Body, Mind, and Soul
Prompt: there simply needs to be more vision fic out there🥺 may i request a cute one where you've been going out for a while but the big L word hasn't been said yet and vis is just.. trying his best to tell you but doesn't know how🥺🥺 he's just so cute like that😭❤️ kissy i love ur stuff
Pairing: Vision x reader
Warnings: Slight language, tooth rotting fluff - beware of cavities 
Word Count: ~1700
A/n: Reblogs, likes, and feedback are very much appreciated! <3 All mistakes are my own! 
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**I do not own marvel, sadly** **not my gif**
“Darling, may I speak with you for a moment?”
Vision phased through your walls to where you were sitting on your bed reading. Months ago you would have jumped straight out of your bones, startled by the synthezoid’s intrusion and lack of personal boundaries. In all honestly, it was no sooner after you had explained the concept of privacy and simple manners to Vision that you had come to look forward to his visits, not caring if he was intruding as long as he came to see you at all. 
It was strange, you’ll admit- very strange. You were the newest Avenger recruit, and the youngest (if you didn’t count that he was technically born a little over a year ago? He had the wisdom of a thousand year old sorcerer, so you didn’t think of him as younger) and so he had a naturally protective nature about him when it came to you. 
He always tried to be by your side during missions, saving your ass on multiple occasions. He never made you feel weak or like you needed protecting, but he was just always there for you. Not just in missions, but in everything. Joining the Avengers was a life changing decision that was not easy in any sense. You didn’t exactly have the prettiest past, which is partially what landed you there in the first place. You knew that none of the members there were exactly saints, but you couldn’t help but feel like you didn’t deserve the new chance at life you were given. Not to mention you had been hearing about the Avengers for years now, and in your mind it was hard to take them off of this pedestal of superhero-assassin-gods to simple coworkers and family. 
Vision could sense your uneasiness, they all could really- but he had no filter and no sense of boundaries and was the only one to confront you about it. You were taken aback at first, but it was truly exactly what you needed. 
He would bring dinner to your room, offering to sit with you as you ate- even though he didn’t need to himself. He brought you DVDs, claiming Wanda told him that they were what lifted her mood. When that didn’t work he tried bringing some old records that Tony recommended, eventually bringing some books from Steve’s “project modernization” stash that peaked your interest. Some nights he would sit with you as you read, reading over your shoulder or watching something on the tv, just content to be in your presence. You never asked him to, and you never asked why, but you also never asked him to leave. 
The dynamic between the two of was certainly an unlikely one, Steve even asking you at one point if he needed to tell the Synthezoid to back off before you assured him that it was fine. 
Somewhere along the way you found yourself falling for Vision, utterly terrified and mortified over the uncertainty of if he could even feel those kinds of feelings towards anyone in return. But then you would hear him laugh at one of your jokes, a real hearty laugh when the joke wasn’t even that funny- or that smile, that god damn smile that stretched across his entire face with those pearly whites that made your heart flutter in your chest, or even worse- the small, shy smile that he would give you when he didn’t think you could see him that brought a faint blush to your cheeks every time. It was in those moments you let yourself feel a slimmer of hope that he could maybe, just maybe feel the same way. 
He eventually figures out that he feels the same as well, after a long conversation he had with Tony and Bruce over whether those feelings should even be possible for him or not. He decides that whether or not he should be able to, he most definitely did, and suddenly fleeting glances and stolen cozy nights turned into hands intertwined under the table during meetings and stolen kisses in the compound halls. 
A year later and everyone knows that it’s never just y/n or Vision, you get the both of you or neither of you, because you were a team.
About a month after the two of you had confessed your feelings Vis had asked you to “go steady”, it was adorable really- he said he saw it in a movie and thought it was what most human couples still did, and he was so nervous and flustered and cute you couldn’t help but say yes. 
Boyfriend and girlfriend, partners in crime, lovers- whatever you wanted to call it, you were. The labels didn’t matter, all that mattered was that you knew how you felt about each other. At least, you hoped you did. 
Vis had been acting strangely lately. He seemed more nervous around you; he was stuttering and losing his train of thought- he would sometimes act like he had something important to say and would end up saying nothing at all. Sometimes he would bring you flowers out of nowhere or prepare a meal he knew you loved, just to disappear for the rest of the night and you weren’t sure what to make of it. Sometimes he would babble on and on about some sort of poetic metaphor and ask if you understood what he meant and when you didn’t he would just tell you to pretend he said nothing at all. 
So there he was, phasing through your wall and asking to talk and you could see a large bouquet of roses behind his hand and you weren’t sure whether to be excited or scared or all of the above, so you simply dog-eared your book and set it aside, patting the empty side of the bed next to you for him to sit. 
He settled on the floor before walking over to the side of the bed and sitting, revealing the bouquet of flowers fully before shyly offering them to you.
“I was informed bouquets are a romantic gesture appropriate for such occasions” he explained, hands fidgeting as he spoke, not making eye contact with you. 
“And what occasion is that?” You inquire, quirking a brow at his behavior. 
“Ah yes that, right, well..” He started before opening and closing his mouth a few times, unsure of how to go on. 
“Darling, I don’t have much to go on with this in terms of past experience- this is all very new to me as you know, however, I have come to understand that there is a certain point in relationships, romantic relationships that is, where the feelings that one has for the other might start to change.” He explains, fingers continuing to fidget and pull at another. 
“Vis.. if this is you wanting a break from me, from us- flowers don’t exactly portray that message clearly..” You reply, anxiety beginning to settle in your chest.
As soon as you say that, any worries at what he could be implying flood your mind as his face fills with distress.
“Oh no- darling, no, that’s not what I was getting at at all!” He hurriedly says, setting the flowers on the bed and taking your hands in his own. “No no, it’s quite the opposite actually! See, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for quite a while, months even! But I wasn’t sure when a good time would be, and no article online could give me a set answer and I didn’t know how you felt- I thought I did sometimes but other times I just couldn’t be sure and then on this last mission when you almost got hurt and I couldn’t bear the thought that-“ you cut off his rambling by taking his cold face in your hands, “Vis hunny, slow down. What is it you want to tell me?” You ask, finally getting him to meet your eyes. He looked more nervous now than he had been for any mission in the past. 
He hands came up to rest atop your own on his face, intertwining your fingers together as he spoke softly, “Well darling, I just- I just thought, we’ve been together for quite some time now, and I think I can safely say- maybe- I hope- that neither one of us want to be letting this go anytime soon and I, well I just thought you ought to know that I love you.” 
A smile immediately pulled at your lips, you had been so afraid just a moment ago that he wanted nothing to do with you and there he was, telling you that he wanted everything to do with you. You wanted to say it back, you wanted to scream it out but he was sitting there with his big anxious doe eyes and a small, nervous smile as he awaits for your answer and suddenly all your words fail you- so you pull him in to a kiss instead. 
It was sweet but not chaste, lips firmly planted against each other as you fought the urge to cry because he was so perfect and you felt more loved than you had ever felt before. Your hands clutched the sides of his face as he planted his on your shoulder blades, bringing you closer to him but never too forcefully- always giving you the option to retreat, but you never take it, and you never will. 
The two of you finally part, gasping for air as he searches your eyes to gouge your reaction and finds a singular stray tear, chasing it away with a swipe of his finger. 
“So, may I assume that this may be reciprocated?” He asks shyly and you laugh, the two of you laugh together with big smiles and open hearts and you assure him “Yes, Vis, I love you, I love you too. Body, mind, and soul.”
“Body, mind, and soul.” He repeats, a smile forming at his lips before he pulls you in for another kiss, the rest of the world melting away until it felt like only the two of you, like it was always meant to be. 
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pascalpanic · 3 years
Text
Burning The Midnight Oil (Javier Peña x gn!Reader)
Summary: Javier has been burning the candle at both ends. He just needs some rest. Luckily, you’ve got your husband covered.
W/C: 3.4K
Warnings: oh boy um. language, non sexual nudity, brief sexual jokes/innuendo, lots of talk of sleep deprivation bc that’s a plot point here, brief mentions of alcohol and guns (maybe once each), mostly talk of food/eating, eating meat/pork (Javier does, not reader) otherwise I’d say it’s fluffy for the most part
A/N: ☄️ anon, god bless your soul for this idea!! I really love it so I banged it out in one night and here we are!!
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You haven’t seen your husband in days. You know he’s exhausted, only ever showing up at home when you’re off at work. It’s a terrible situation, the only contact you’ve had with him being at odd hours over the phone.
The DEA has been all hands on deck this week, requiring their men to be there at all times unless they’re at home and sleeping; even then, they only get about six hours off at a time, many of them too wired to sleep. Javier only gets to come home every other day, usually during the middle of the day. He’s been staying up for a dangerous amount of time, in your opinion, leaving you just about ready to find the heads of the cartel and beat their asses yourself.
During the work week, you can’t complain. You have no right to. You knew when you and Javier had eloped and married that the man’s job was a baggage you’d be forced to carry as a couple. You normally didn’t mind, but when it goes into the weekend, that’s when you get mad. Not just that you don’t get your husband at home with you, but that he doesn’t get to be home. He deserves it. Javier hardly relaxes during the weekends, and essentially does not relax on weeknights until he’s fallen asleep with his head on your chest.
Saturday found you running errands, expecting Javier home by midday at the very latest. Returning home with a pep in your step and finding no Javier there, your mood and smile fell instantly. It’s Saturday; your husband should be home. They should be letting them go home, you thought angrily as you took your anger out by chopping the vegetables to go into your dinner. Surely Javier will be home by dinnertime.
Nothing. 6 P.M., 7 P.M., no Javier, just a dinner growing cold and your heart sinking. You knew Javier had got his break yesterday, and had been in the apartment while you worked, but a slightly rumpled bed was the only evidence he was even there.
At 8, you walk to the phone and dial the DEA office, specifically Javier’s extension.
Your husband picks up and his voice wrecks your heart. “Peña,” he mumbles, his voice crackly. It sounds like his morning grumble after a long night of sleep next to you.
“Javi,” you coo, heart breaking. “Baby, when are you coming home?”
Javier perches on the edge of his desk, phone tucked between his cheek and shoulder. “Fuck, cariño, I don’t know,” he admits, rubbing his face. “I just woke up, I got an hour nap in the break room office. We have to keep going. We’re so close, I can tell.”
You understand his desperation, but you know exactly what he looks like now, a stubble growing thanks to his time away from home, his eyes bloodshot and drooping. His hair is probably messy and his shirt is probably all wrinkly; you’re absolutely certain he’s holding a mug of the sludgy black coffee the office brews. He’s most definitely the picture of exhaustion, and even though you can’t see him, you know your husband. He is a wreck. “I can let Saturday slide, but you’re coming home tomorrow, I don’t care how long. I need to see you and you need to be taken care of.” “I’m doing just fine,” Javier shakes his head and you can hear a flick of a lighter as he’s most likely lighting a cigarette.
“You’re not, and don’t try to pull that card with me. I know you. You’re a disaster; I can tell from your voice. You haven’t eaten and you haven’t slept and you can’t deny it. I want you home as soon as you can tomorrow, you got it? Don’t you even fucking dare try it, Javier Fernando Peña.”
The full name: ouch. He sighs and exhales the cigarette smoke, then takes a sip of his coffee before answering you. “God, I fucking love you,” he chuckles softly. “Okay.”
Another sign of Javier’s exhaustion: how easily he gives in. Javier is a stubborn man, but over your years together he’s learned that you’re just as hard to budge. When both of you are set, neither of you can be moved. Your sarcasm and wit and willpower was what drew him to you in the first place; Javier could never have a compliant, submitting partner. He’d be a mess. He needs you to ground him, he knew and still knows it. It’s why you’re married now.
“I love you too, handsome. Call me before you come home, okay baby? I want to be awake for you,” you say, a soft smile on your face. Your voice is much warmer, less jagged and rough.
It’s the way you always get Javi, the thing that makes him melt the most: when you’re snapping one second and gentle the next. God, he fucking loves you. You understand him, you don’t question him when he comes home and doesn’t speak. You read him and then you hold him, and all of his fears dissipate with his calming breath. “Okay. I love you,” he repeats again, more earnest and purposeful. He wants you to know it; he worries you haven’t felt it in the past week. It’s also another sign of his exhaustion.
“I love you too, Javi,” you remind him as you chuckle and stand. “Don’t fall asleep on the job. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Javier groans and cracks his neck after hanging up, sliding the typewriter back to the beginning. Just a little longer, he tells himself, then he gets to come home to you.
-
The phone rings around 5 in the morning, waking you from a restless slumber. The sun is just starting to rise, making the sky lighter and colorful from its previous midnight blue. Knowing Javier would be calling, it was impossible for you to sleep fully, leaving you in a dozing state more similar to a daydream than to any form of REM.
“Hello?” You answer with a groggy voice, hoping it’s Javier. Who else could it be, at this hour on a Sunday morning?
“Hey, dulzura,” Javier sighs into the phone. “I’m packing up my shit now. We didn’t get Escobar, but we got one of his big guys late last night. They’re bringing in some Search Bloc guys and giving us tomorrow off.”
You nearly cry in relief at his words, making a noise between a sigh and a squeal,  heavy and happy. Javier laughs softly at your noise of relief, allowing himself to smile. His vision is hazy from the lack of sleep, but he’ll be cognizant enough after this last cup of coffee kicks in. “Get your ass home, Javi,” you tell him with a voice just as sleepy as his own. “You got an ETA for me?”
There’s a moment of silence as he looks at his watch. “5:45.”
Your eyes haven’t even opened yet, and you finally let them as you look at the clock. That’s soon, really soon, and it makes your heart speed up a little as your body forces you awake. “Great. I’ll see you then. Drive safe. If you’re too tired-”
“Steve will not be driving,” he cuts you off with a grumble. It makes you giggle a little, his adamance that Steve could never possibly do something better than him, more competently.
“Just reminding you. I’ll see you,” you tell him and hang up before he can make another sarcastic comment.
He’s glad you hang up so fast. He doesn’t have the brain power for a classic witty retort.
-
Javier goes to unlock the apartment door about half an hour later, but finds that his keys aren’t necessary: you’ve left the door unlocked for him.
He’d be ashamed to admit it to anyone but you, but it really does happen: Javier’s eyes water as he walks inside to the smell of cooking, the stream of soft light through the kitchen window, the sound of soft Sunday morning music drifting from the radio.
You’re at the oven, cooking, and turn when you hear a noise, grinning to see Javier. “Hey, handsome,” you squeal and rush over, wrapping your arms around him.
Javier buries his face in your hair, throwing his arms back around you. You smell fresh and clean, so soft in the fluffy robe he bought you for your birthday a few months ago now. You’re surprised to feel warm water drip from his eyes to your neck, and you pull away with a frown, cupping his face. “Are you okay, love?” You ask, wiping the tears from his eyes.
He nods. “So tired,” he admits and swallows hard. “So glad I’m home. So lucky I have you.”
You have a feeling he doesn’t have the energy to kiss you. Instead, you press your forehead to his and squeeze him tight in your arms. “Okay. I cooked breakfast. You need it. Why don’t you go take a shower?” You ask, breaking away and rubbing his arms.
He shakes his head. “My arms feel like lead. I don’t know if I can even wash my hair,” he admits, his voice a low rumble from his chest. “Just let me sleep, baby.”
“I’ll come with you, then,” you offer, already unbuttoning his shirt and working it off of him purely for comfort. You know your way around your husband’s body by now. You could unbutton his shirts blind; in fact, you have. “Come on, cariño,” you murmur and pull him along to the bathroom by the side of an unbuttoned shirt.
Once in the bathroom, Javier blinks and squints at the bright vanity lights, overwhelmed. You turn on the shower, the bathroom filling with warmth as the water heats and steam fills the air. Even in his tired state, Javier loves to undress you. He tugs the belt from your fuzzy robe, sliding it off your shoulders and tossing it on the counter. You then strip off your respective clothes, and you’re the first to step into the stream of the warm water.
Javi doesn’t have to say anything; you can tell his thoughts from your gaze. His eyes rake your body, taking in the sight of his most beloved person on the planet in all of your naked glory. He climbs in after you, and you grab a bar of soap and get to scrubbing, covering all of Javier’s body with the cucumber-scented suds. He leans his head back against the shower wall, loving your warm hands and the hot water. If he wasn’t standing, if his back wasn’t aching so hard, he’d fall asleep here and now. He’s never been more blissful.
You rinse his body then work his shampoo into his thick hair, your fingers scratching his scalp and massaging his head. “You’re the fucking best,” Javi mumbles sleepily. You just chuckle and work the soap into his hair, stripping it of the grime and cigarette smoke of the office, until he’s wiped clean, ready to start anew.
Later, you wash yourself and let Javier enjoy the hot stream of the water. He’s so zoned out you can’t even tell if he’s awake. You have to actually check. “Javi, baby?”
“Hm?” He mumbles
“Did you fall asleep on me?” You chuckle as you turn off the shower, which makes Javier frown at the loss of warmth.
“‘Course not,” he grumbles, taking the fluffy towel from you and wiping his face.
After the two of you have dressed in fresh clothes, you sit on the edge of your bed and wait for Javier to finish. He pulls a worn t-shirt over his head, then comes and sits next to you, kissing the side of your head. “You’re so good to me,” he mumbles into your temple.
He goes to flop back but you put an arm around him, catching him. “Excuse me, Agent. I made breakfast,” you chuckle and sneak a kiss from his lips, chuckling at the way his mustache is still a little damp. “When was the last time you ate?”
Javier stares off as he considers it. It takes a while for him to respond. You nod at that. “Exactly. Come on, I made breakfast just the way you like it.”
The food is still somewhat warm when you find your way to the kitchen. Javier loves the local cuisine, always has, but something about an American breakfast makes him weak at the knees. He sits at the kitchen counter and sighs as you hand him a plate of buttered toast. “There’s your appetizer,” you chuckle and head back to the stove. Half-cooked bacon, which you turned off when he came in, sits in a pan, and you turn it back on to finish. You crack a couple of eggs into another pan, making sure they sit just right so they’re the way Javi likes them: fried. You sprinkle them with salt and pepper, humming to the radio as you cook.
The sizzling bacon makes Javier’s stomach grumble. The toast isn’t even that warm anymore, but the carby goodness fills Javi’s mouth and suddenly he’s never felt so ravenous. The two pieces of buttered toast are devoured in a heartbeat.
Bringing him a mug, you pour some coffee and his favorite creamer in. “You’d better tip me later,” you tease him with a wink as you return to the stove, flipping the bacon and putting some onto a plate.
“I will tip you anything you want, I swear,” he murmurs before sipping at the ceramic mug, the warm coffee going down like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, warming him from the inside out. The A/C blasts in the apartment, making his dripping hair feel even colder.
In yet another pan, you start pouring the premade pancake mix you’d prepared before he got home. “All of this and the sun is barely up,” He muses, wandering to the other side of the counter and stealing a strip of bacon.
“Quit,” you whine and smack his hand, making the bacon fall back onto the plate. “Your order isn’t ready yet, sir. Stop harassing the cook.” When his arms wrap around you, your defenses fall. “Go sit down,” you say weakly as he kisses your neck.
At least he obeys. Javier sits in his chair and watches you intently, downing his coffee in a short amount of time.
Finally, the feast all comes together, and you present it to Javier on a large plate: bacon, fried eggs, fruit (which you know he won’t eat, but it’s worth a shot), and heart-shaped pancakes. “I wanted to make a pistol, but I’m not super artistic,” you chuckle as you refer to the fluffy cakes on the plate.
Javier shakes his head but smiles. “Thank you, dulzura,” he manages out before he digs in, devouring the plate at a breakneck speed. You’re content to watch, standing across from him. You go to refill his coffee and come back to find the pancakes completely gone.
It doesn’t take much time at all before the plate is wiped clean, the entire thing in Javier’s stomach. Food has never been the biggest concern for him; he skips meals often for work, and you suspect he hasn’t done much more than snack here or there over the past week. His eyes droop even further now that he has a full stomach, and it warms your heart. You’ve got your husband cleaned and fed; now all you need is one last step before you have your beloved Javi back.
“Alright, handsome,” you smile as you drape your arms across his shoulders. “Nap time.”
He can’t deny that. He stands, letting your arms fall off his shoulders. He pulls you around to his front and wraps his arms around you; you know what comes next in this routine. Your feet slide on top of his and Javier walks the two of you to the bedroom, you backwards and being led by him. Javier is not an overly affectionate man: kisses and sex, primarily, hugs if one of you really needs it. This is his one little act he insists on, since you don’t let him carry you.
As you waddle along, you kiss along Javier’s jaw, giving him all of the affection he missed out on in the past week. When you finally enter your bedroom, you stop as you feel the backs of your calves against the bed. You know this routine all too well. It’s usually reserved for when Javier can’t get his hands off of you, when you desperately need him on top of you, surrounding you, kissing your neck. “Wait,” you murmur and step off of his feet, going to pull back the covers.
You return to the end of the bed, standing on top of his feet again. “There,” you say with a grin, and Javi has no choice but to grin back then kiss you. “Okay, continue.”
Then your routine resumes: you fall backwards onto the bed and Javier falls on top of you. You both grunt with the impact but you smile, wrapping one arm around Javi while the other grabs the sheets and blankets and pulls them over the both of you.
Javi’s cheek is nestled against your chest, listening to your heartbeat, his eyes already shut. “Real cute. Get off of me now,” you tease and nudge his side.
His body beneath yours is all he’s needed, all he’s dreamt about while half-consciously dreaming on the apartment couch. He can feel your chest rise and fall, his head going with it. “No,” he simply mutters, his face squished against the skin encasing your beating heart. “M’comftrble.”
You can’t deny him that, you chuckle, your hands reaching down to entangle your fingers in his dark brown hair, nearly black from the dampness it holds. “Fine,” you sigh, whispering the word to him. “I love you so much, Javi. Missed you. Missed my man.”
“Missed you too, dulzura,” Javi mumbles back, but it’s clear he’s almost already out.
“How long were you up, minus that nap, Javi?” You ask.
He thinks on it for a minute, and you think he might’ve fallen asleep until he responds. “36.”
“Hours?” you exclaim quietly, massaging his scalp. “Baby.”
“I know. Had’ta.”
“Well, you can sleep as long as you need to now, love,” you murmur and kiss his forehead. He makes a soft noise of disapproval. “Just a nap. Wake me in like an hour.”
“Okay,” you lie, knowing you’ll let him sleep as long as his body needs it. “Rest now, baby.”
Javier nods and you exhale deeply, holding his head to your chest. He’s back now, your husband, and you know he’s safe, know he’s healthy and well taken-care of: you did it yourself. His breathing slows. You can feel it against your chest, the way the steady rise and fall becomes slower and slower and you know you’ve won when you hear a soft snore, his parted lips smashed against your chest.
You stay like that for a while, Javier lying on top of you and resting. It’s a comfort to have him pressed against you, to feel your husband’s body and know that he’s here. It’s even better to know he’s resting well, deeply, from the way he slumbers against your body. You intermittently kiss his head, continuing to rub his head in hopes it’ll loosen the tension he’ll surely have when he wakes.
About an hour passes, and you find yourself drowsier and drowsier as the sun rises higher and higher in the sky. Scooting out from beneath Javier, you replace your chest with a pillow to support his face. Rolling him slightly to the side, you cuddle in behind him and spoon him, your arms around him.
The quiet Sunday morning is all too perfect. You drift off too, then wake up an hour or two later and proceed about your household chores. You burn some pretty candles, clean, listen to the radio.
Javier doesn’t wake until 10 P.M. that night, 15 hours after he fell asleep.
Some nap.
-
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justkending · 4 years
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The Number One Rule. Chapter 15.
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Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)
Word Count: 3100+
A/N: Ladies and gentleman. This is in one of my top 3 chapters I’ve written in this series. The next one being my number 1;) I hope you enjoy and I would love any and all feedback you are willing to share!! xoxoxo
Chapter Fifteen:
Eventually when Bucky had snapped out of his thoughts, Y/N had long fallen asleep on him. He smiled down at her with a sad smile. One filled with remorse for everything she had gone through, but pride in how she handled it and didn’t let it destroy her. At least not to the extent that a lot of people get into.
She had years to do that, whereas Bucky was fresh on the subject. It would take him time to move on from that for her. He couldn’t help but feel hate for himself knowing exactly what party she was talking about. 
It was one of the few he and Steve didn’t attend. They had planned on it, but Dot wanted a quiet night in, and Steve just didn’t feel like it or something. It had been a while since that party, so he didn’t remember intricate details. 7 years to be exact. And the only reason he could guess which one it was, was because of how she acted after it. A whole month of depression and guilt she sat with and it showed. For the last 7 years Y/N had carried that with her. The only person she trusted to tell to this day was Beck. Now he was the other. 
He gathered her up in his arms, and she drowsily threw her own over his shoulders and hung on in a sleepy daze as he brought her up the stairs. He laid her in her bed, turned on her fan, and tucked her in. 
But as he stood to go back downstairs, her hand clasped around his. 
“Where y’ going?” she asked. The wine was playing a big part in the sleepiness and he could tell by her weak squeeze to his hand. 
“I’m just going to clean up downstairs. I’ll be back up in a second, sweetheart,” she nodded before giving him another squeeze to his hand and pulling the bed covers up to her cheeks. He smiled at her cute self and bent down kissing her forehead. He moved the strands of hair they fell over her eyes and studied her for a second. 
Eventually, he pulled away and went to do what he said. Popcorn kernels trashed and bowls cleaned. Leftover wine in the fridge and beer bottles recycled. He folded the blankets on the couch and set the pillows back in their original arrangement. Lastly, he went and checked to make sure all the doors were locked for the night. He had spent the night there enough to do a lock up without issues. 
Coming back upstairs, he changed into his own pajamas and snuck into the other side of the bed. Careful not to wake her, he gently and ever so softly, pulled her back to him. In her sleep, she turned to where they were face to face. Curling into his chest in comfort, trying to get as close as she could. 
He couldn’t hold in the chuckle that rumbled through his chest as she nuzzled under his chin. He ran his hand up and down her back and noticed her body relaxing with each stroke. He was glad he had that effect on her. It was the least he could offer after not being there for her in those hard times.
Now when he held her, he wasn’t just protecting her, but also trying to shield her from any more pain. He had been doing that his whole life for the family that the Roger’s had become to him. But now was different. This was a different kind of defense. This wasn’t just family protection. This was protection for someone you love. 
________________
The next morning, Y/N was the first to wake. She found herself practically embedded in Bucky’s arms. He had wrapped his giant self around her waist pulling her in close to his body. 
They had cuddled before, and even had a few sleepovers when Steve wasn’t in town, or if Becca wasn’t going to be home for the night and lent them her space. But it was only enough to count on one hand. That, plus, it never escalated to anything other than cuddling and maybe a makeout session here and there. 
Bucky had been gentle and patient in that area. Even if they hadn’t had that talk yet at that point, he didn’t push. Something she wasn’t used to in most of the guys she had dated. Pietro probably being the only other one that was understanding of it. 
Even if they had been dating a little over a month, she was glad they were taking it slow. Even if they had known each other their whole lifes. 
She somehow was able to turn in his arms and see a soft smile on his lips. He wasn’t awake, so he must have been dreaming of something nice. She took a second just breathing him in and trying to wrap her head around how all this came to be. 
Sure she had crushes on him growing up. I mean who doesn’t form a crush for your older brother's hot best friend. Though if she was being honest, she had always thought deep down that it was never a card that would be played in this game of life. 
Little did they know, it would just take time and growth. Then the fates would do with them what they will. Most card games were just a game of chance. You never know what’s going to come around the corner...
Eventually, she pulled herself away ever so gently and quietly to escape downstairs and make breakfast. She was still in her sleep shorts, but at some point took off her sweatshirt in the night from almost overheating. That plus the surprisingly excessive amount of body heat Bucky gave off made it hard to sleep with it on. 
She found a new one laying over her chair in the corner and threw it on before grabbing a hair tie and brushing her bed head up into a bun. 
Tiptoeing to the door, she slowly closed it leaving it open just a crack. 
Just as she took a step on the stairs, she heard the front door unlock and open. Freezing in her spot she waited a second. The only person who had a key besides their mom and her was…
“Hey, sis,” Steve said coming around the corner seeing her at the top of the stairs. 
“S-Steve,” she said in almost a whisper. Panic. Fear. Dread hit her at full force.“What, um, what are you doing here?”
“It’s Saturday and mom’s out of town, and I knew you were home alone. I thought I’d come over and we can go get breakfast or something,” he said with a sweet innocent smile. 
Running down the stairs a little quicker, she met him at the bottom. 
“Um, why didn’t you call? I would have gotten ready. I just woke up,” her voice was filled with anxiety and Steve noticed. 
“I thought I’d surprise you,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You ok? You seem off?”
“Um, no. I’m fine. I just got a text from work that one of the projects they had me on needs to be done sooner than I expected.” How she came up with that lie on the spot like that? She had no idea, but she ran with it. “Yeah, not the best thing to wake up too. Making me a little nervous.”
“Oh, well do you want to go get breakfast and we can talk about it? I’ve barely heard about anything with your new job. We need to catch up, Mini,” he said, poking her stomach and making her let out a loud laugh, having always been super ticklish. 
Just seconds after that, having heard voices and a loud almost shout, Bucky swug open the door and peered down the stairway where they were both at the bottom. 
Two seconds. 
Two seconds was all it took for Steve to put two and two together in his head. Bucky acting weird lately. Sneaking off randomly and never telling Steve anything, which wasn’t like him in their friendship. Hell, he had even noticed Bucky’s lingering looks, but always put in the back of his mind thinking nothing of it. 
But now. Oh, he was thinking about something now. 
Bucky was frozen at the top of the stairs, eyes locked with Steve. To make matters worse, he only had pajama pants on and no shirt.
Even from the distance of the stairwell, Bucky could see the storm brewing in the blue eyes of his best friend. 
“Steve,” Y/N started placing a hand on his arm. 
The blonde immediately ripped away from her as he turned to fully face Bucky. The alpha male, big brother, pissed off best friend was in a stance ready to fight. 
“Why the FUCK did you just come out of my sister’s room half fucking naked?” Steve growled.
“Steve, you don’t know the full story,” Y/N said softly, but she could sense the tension and for once in her life, she was slightly scared to enter the fight. 
“The fuck I don’t know the full story,” Steve said finally whipping his head back to Y/N. His blue eyes were carrying a category 5 hurricane in those ocean blues. But they didn’t stay on her long as he turned back to Bucky. 
“Listen,” Bucky said, coming down slowly. 
“I don’t know if I want to,” he responded through his teeth. “Take one more step down here, and you’re going to need some serious dental work and a nose job.”
Bucky froze about 4-5 steps away from the siblings. Finally, he looked at Y/N, worry in his eyes, but they were also apologetic. 
Y/N immediately moved around Steve and stood between the two. Closer to Steve to try and hold him back if she needed to. 
“Now wait a damn minute,” she spoke up looking straight at her older brother even if he was sending a death glare past her shoulder. “You need to calm down before we talk-”
“No. You need to go to your room. Bucky and I need to talk,” he said in an authoritative voice. 
“Excuse me?” she retorted back. Her gentleness in the situation was fading and being replaced with aggravation. “Go to my room? Am I a 13 year old girl?” she said stepping in his eyeline so he was looking at her. 
“This isn’t a fucking joke, Y/N!” He shouted. “Go to your room!”
“No,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest. 
The two had this kind staring contest all the time growing up. Anytime there was a fight, they almost never relented with their stubborn asses. Their mom or dad had to send them to their rooms themselves and kept them there. The time ranging from 20 minutes to 5 hours before they calmed down. 
They were two of the most headstrong ornery people to live in this world. And it didn’t help that they were now pitted against each other. This kind of fight looked as if it could be ranging more into weeks or months. 
Knowing and experiencing situations like this with them before, Bucky spoke up again. 
“Y/N, you should listen to him. We need to talk,” he said sedately. 
“I leave and he’s going to beat your ass,” Y/N said, still staring at her brother. 
“I think he’s going to beat my ass either way,” Bucky mumbled. “Really Y/N. Just give us a second.”
“I’m a part of this equation too,” she said. Her tone easing just enough to be noticed. 
“Yes, you are. But right now, Steve and I need to talk first,” he said trying his best to defuse the fire against the heated situation happening in the entryway of their house. 
There were a few more seconds of silence as they glared at the other. 
“Fine, but I’m coming back down in 10 minutes,” she bartered. 
No one responded as she started to go up the stairs backwards. The staredown did not cease until she was even with Bucky on the steps. 
“If he does anything stupid, I’m going to beat his ass,” she said looking at Bucky. 
“I’m sure you will,” he said with a small smile that was forced for reassurance. 
She placed a hand on his shoulder. A silent good luck as they studied the other in a quick second. 
Turning back to look at Steve, she saw he was still in a rigid stance. The tension in his shoulders doing nothing but grow with every passing second. She would’ve sent him one more warning glare if he was looking, but his eyes were trained on Bucky with a look that could kill. 
Eventually she went into her room and shut her door, leaving it open just a crack. They deserved their privacy no matter how bad she wanted to step in. Deep down she knew, as best friends, they needed to talk on their own. 
Bucky looked back down and saw a bull looking at him like he was a red cape.
“Outside. Now,” Steve commanded before stomping off to the back and letting the screen door slam harshly. 
Letting out a long sigh and running a hand down his face, he finally went down the stairs. He grabbed a shirt from the bag he had left down there and headed to the backyard. Steve already in the grass pacing. 
“Steve,” Bucky said softly as he walked down the porch steps barefoot. 
Instantly, a fist collided with his face. He stumbled trying his best to not fall from the impact. When he looked up, grasping his jaw, he sent a glare to Steve. 
“I’m not saying I don’t deserve that, but-”
“Oh, you deserve a lot more than that, but I need you to explain what the HELL I just walked into and you can’t do that with no teeth,” Steve glowered. 
Looking at him while straightening his posture he wiggled his jaw some feeling just a tad bit of blood on his lip. Damn him for teaching Steve how to make a proper swing like that. 
“You gonna punch me again before I talk, or can I fucking explain myself now?” No response, only a stare was given. “Ok, so I’ve been hiding something from you.” Steve raised an eyebrow. 
“You think?”
“Listen, I’m almost as taken aback as you. One day, she’s like a little sister running around with my actual sister, and the next she's a mature grown adult who knows what she wants, exudes confidence, and is intelligent beyond measure.” He paused before adding. “Not that we didn’t know that.”
“I know what my sister is. What I want to know is why you’re sleeping with her?” Steve said, taking a step closer. 
Bucky just straightened up more as if expecting another hit. But then he processed Steve’s sentence. 
“Sleeping with her?” he questioned almost in shock. Steve not breaking his gaze. “I’m not fucking sleeping with her, asshole! I’m dating her.”
The smallest amount of tension released from Steve’s body and his face wasn’t frowning as much.
“You’re dating?” 
“Yes. Dating.”
“So you guys haven’t-”
“No. I’m a little upset that you think that low of me,” Bucky scoffed. “You think I would really just start booty calling my best friend's sister? If I wanted a friend with benefits, I can easily find a girl at a bar,” he said, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair. “You’re sister isn’t a girl from a bar, Steve.”
Steve was silent processing it. He still wasn’t happy, but at least it wasn’t as bad as had thought. 
“Listen, Y/N’s been in my life just as long as she has been in yours. We’ve grown up together, created childhood memories together, picked on each other, and protected each other. She would be the last person on this earth I would want to degrade to a one night stand. She deserves so much more than that.”
“Exactly,” Steve said. 
Bucky paused taking note of Steve’s tone. “Exactly? Why do you say it like that?”  
“I mean she deserves a lot,” he said, confirming Buck’s thought. 
“I see. So I don’t make the cut?” Bucky said, now getting frustrated. The silence was enough of an answer to his question. “Wow. 26 years of being best friends and you think that little of me?”
“She’s my sister,” Steve answered. A slight tone of apology behind his words, but he kept the stoic face. 
“Yes, Steve she is! And 2+2= 4! We know this!” he said waving his arms and scoffing as he turned in his spot before turning back. Hands on his hips before one came up and ran a hand through his slight beard. 
“You know what? Screw this. I’m not going to sit here and be that guy that says, ‘Yeah, you’re right. She doesn’t deserve me. I’m not good enough for her.’ You know why, Steve? Because I know that. And it’s because I know that, that I’m going to strive with every muscle in my body and every might of my being to make sure I can be that for her one day. To make sure I can give her everything and more that she deserves. To make sure she never has to see a sad day again. To make sure she only experiences joy if I have any say. To make absolutely sure that no one ever hurts her. Why? Because I love her!”
Out of breath, Bucky chest heaving up and down showed how hard his lungs were working to get air back in them. 
Steve’s posture had almost gone back to normal. The anger no longer there. Whatever emotion he was feeling, Bucky couldn’t tell. 
“How long?” Steve asked. 
“What?” Bucky asked, confused. 
“How long have you loved her?” he repeated, looking down at the ground. 
Bucky paused. He couldn’t actually answer that. There was no specific time frame. Truth was he had loved her for a while. 
“Honestly, longer than I know... It’s just taken me this long to figure out that’s what this feeling was.”
Steve nodded his head as he put his hands in his pockets and continued to stare at the dirt by his feet. 
“Ok.”
Taken aback, Bucky's eyes widened. 
“Ok?” 
“Yeah. Ok,” Steve repeated before he started walking to the back fence that led to the driveway. 
“Wait. You’re just going to leave it at 'Ok,’ and walk away?” Bucky rushed over to stop him. 
Steve slowly turned from staring at the ground and then back at him. 
“You know, I thought that we were close enough that you could come to me with this kind of thing. That you wouldn’t feel like you had to hide it from me. Y/N and you both,” he said with pursed lips. “Guess I was wrong.” 
With that he turned back and walked to his car. Bucky watched as he started the engine, pulled out, and disappeared. 
What the hell kind of mess just happened?
(Tags for this series will be closing soon as it is getting pretty full, please send an ask if you want to be added:)
I’ll post on whatever chapter I decided to close it down here.
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blonde-in-charge · 3 years
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Wildcard, Chapter Five
Summary: Steve Rogers found you on the side of the road after a mission involving Hydra and convinced the Avengers to take you in. You have no name, no memories, and no idea of what you are capable of. All you know is that you are a super soldier with more hidden abilities than you care to admit. The first step to finding answers was to train you. Nobody, including you, knows what is up your sleeve.
Characters: Bucky x reader, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Random Hydra guy
Warnings:  SMUT! Mentions of blood/violence, nightmares, murder.
Words: 2.2k
A/N: Hello! I am so sorry this chapter took so long! I had hit a wall for inspiration but am back on track!
The man gave a sickening grin in your direction, admiring the soldier you had become for them. You stood strapped in a black leather combat suit, which covered every inch of your body. Your mouth was covered by a black muzzle, the trademark of Hydras super soldier. Your victims eyes pleaded with your emotionless ones as you stared at him. He was on his knees with his hands dropped to his side, making no attempt to fight back. Your gun was tucked snuggly in your hand, which was raised to meet the forehead of the man in front of you.
The man behind you chuckled, “Remember your mission.” 
You nodded your head at your handler, preparing to follow through with the mission but the man in front of you looked so familiar. He has his head hanging towards the ground, his face shielded by  a curtain of long brown hair. As if he could feel your gaze, the man slowly brought his face up into view, his steel eyes settling on yours
“It’s okay, doll. It's okay.” He said quietly for only you to hear. The words he said sent a whirlpool of emotions through you. 
You lowered your gun slightly, “Bucky?”
The man on the ground sighed and smiled slightly, “Hey, doll.”
“Hail Hydra,” You raised your gun back to his forehead and pulled the trigger. His eyes were frozen in shock as blood ran down his face and he fell lifelessly onto the ground. You lowered your gun to your side and turned away from the body. Your handler smiled nastily at you and put a hand on your tense shoulder. 
You stowed the gun away in the holster on your thigh, “Mission completed.” 
-
The temperature in the cabin dropped throughout the night, making you shiver underneath the light blankets of the bed. Bucky knew there were more blankets in the living room, but he refused to move. Your body was curled underneath his right arm, with both of your arms pinned to his side and your head resting in his chest. Your body had sought him out almost immediately after you had fallen asleep, and at first Bucky thought he was imagining it. He brushed your hair back with a silver hand before tucking it under his head. He had not fallen asleep yet, worried his nightmares would keep you both up. Your body tensed against him and he turned his head over to check on you. Your eyebrows were furrowed, causing deep worry lines in your face. Your hands twitched lightly against his side as you slept. He could tell you were dreaming of something dark, he decided to turn on his side to fully engulf you in his arms. You relaxed slightly as he held you and whispered in your ear, “It's okay, doll. It's okay.” You tensed again for a few seconds before he felt you stir from your sleep. You looked up at him and sighed quietly before bringing one of your hands to his cheeks.
“Did I wake you?” You asked, feeling the tears prick the back of your eyes, threatening to spill over
He leaned slightly into your hand, almost out of reflex,”I was already awake,” He searched your eyes from a moment, not wanting to push you to talk about what was haunting you. If you weren't as observant, you wouldn't have noticed the way his eyes flickered down to your lips for a moment before returning to yours. You felt your face flush to a darker color then before and the anxiety rose into your throat. You stared at him intently before closing the gap in between the both of you. Your lips ghosted over his, asking for his permission. He sighed before wrapping a hand into the base of your hair, connecting your lips together in a heated kiss. He was holding you tightly but his mouth seemed to be holding back, as if he was afraid you would change your mind at any minute. You let the hand that was resting on his cheek trail back and run through his long hair. Your noses collided as you both pushed yourself as close to each other as possible. His metal hand grazed down the side of your body, sending goosebumps to the surface of your skin, before it stopped to grip your waist. You sucked his lower lip into your mouth, trying to encourage him to not hold back. His grip became bruising and you pulled back to rest your forehead against his.  
He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing his hips against your thigh. You could feel the strain of his erection through his boxers, “I haven't been with someone in a very long time, Y/N.”
You ran your fingers through his hair as you spoke, “Do you want to stop?” You watched as he opened his eyes to watch you.
“God no…” He leaned back in to capture your lips between his. You threw your leg over his thighs and rolled him over so that you were straddling him. Your hair fell in a curtain around the both of you as you leaned over him. You both silently stared at each other for a minute before you leaned back down to meet his lips. His hips jumped up against you in response and you smiled against the husky man. You rolled your hips back against him before pulling them back up making the soldier sigh into your mouth. The thin fabric of your underwear against his boxers provided almost no coverage between you two. You moaned quietly into his mouth as you continued rolling your hips against his length. His mouth trailed from your lips, down your collarbone, before they stopped to attack your neck. You tilted your head to the side as the soldier kissed lightly all the sensitive spots that drove you wild. You took both of his hands and placed them on your waist, underneath the shirt you were wearing. You guided his hands to trail up your body. His steel eyes watched you intently as your joint hands reached your breasts. You left his hands there before crossing your arms to grip the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head. Your hair fell down and cascaded against your back, as you sat topless in front of Bucky Barnes. He stared at you in wonder, his hands leaving your breasts. You werent ashamed to be bare in front of Bucky, your body was littered with deep scares from the amount of torture it had recieved. Your side was covered in burn scars from when you first inherited the powers from Hydra. Bucky’s hands ran down both of your sides, his metal hand cooling the scarred flesh. You watched him stare at you in wonder before he pushed himself up, his chest inches from yours. He pulled the worn down tee shirt over his head quickly, revealing his ridiculously toned chest. His left shoulder was mangled with scars that disappeared into metal. You ran your hand along the scarring and down his arm, taking his hand bringing it up to your cheek. 
“You are beautiful, Bucky Barnes.” You said to him, watching a light spark behind the grey blue eyes. 
His flesh fingers ran slowly down your spine, “How are you real?” He asked before pulling you flush against his chest. 
You cradled his face in your hands and leaned in to kiss him deeply. His lips met yours hungerly, as he fought your lips for dominance. He pushed himself over and rolled you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. He moved from your lips, trailing kisses all the way down your chest and stomach before coming at a stop just before the waistband of your underwear. He looked up into your eyes for permission, you nodded and smiled before he hooked his fingers into the sides of the fabric and pulled them down. You spread your legs eagerly for him as his hands caressed your thighs. Your hands reached forward and cupped his erection through the thin boxers. Bucky let his eyes close briefly but opened them to watch you tug at the hem of the shorts. He awkwardly pulled down the fabric and kicked them off to the floor, almost falling off the side of the bed. You both smiled as he came back to kneel in between your legs. The heat your body was giving off would have burned any other person, but Bucky didn't seem to notice. He leaned over you and kissed your feverish lips. His hips rolled forward, causing his length to slide through your folds, catching itself on the bundle of nerves. You moaned into the soldier's mouth as his hands reached down between your bodies. He aligned the tip with your soaked entrance, you took a deep breath as he started to slowly push his hips towards yours. You tilted your head back at the sensation of your body trying to adjust to his size. It burned at first but god you wanted it. You pressed a hand to the back of his thigh, encouraging him to continue moving. He remained still above you, his arms resting against the mattress on either side of his head. 
His face was tinted a red color and he was breathing heavily into your ear, you could tell he was trying to hold himself back, “I don't want to hurt you, Doll.” He said horsley into your ear. 
You wrapped your legs around his waist pushing him to continue his movements, “Maybe I want you to.” You said quietly, your confidence overtaking your anxiety. His body tensed slightly and you weren't sure if you said the wrong thing. He then continued to push into you, stopping when your hips met together. You felt overwhelmingly full, arousal was leaking out of every pore in your body as his hips pulled back painfully slow. He stopped just before his thick member slipped out, and snapped his hips straight back to yours, causing a sharp moan to come from your mouth. You could feel his breath against your neck as he continued his painfully slow thrusts within you. The sensations he was making you feel overwhelmed you. You could feel a tightness form in your belly, threatening to snap at any moment. Bucky stilled his movements for a moment to push himself up and lean back on his heels to admire the way you were connected. He pulled your legs up, so that your calves were resting on his shoulders. He kissed your ankle before he resumed his thrusts, increasing the speed. Between the new angle and the change in tempo, your legs were shaking. You felt like you were going to burst right there. The scene before you was pornographic. His hair was sticking to the sweat on his forehead, his eyes were dark blue with lust as he watched his length disappear inside of you again, and again, and again. You watched him fuck you, the sight bringing you closer to the edge. His metal hand trailed down one of your legs and came to rest on the bundle of nerves in between your thighs. He used his thumb to rub circles against your clit, his metal sending sparks through you. You moaned loudly at his actions, arching your back against the bed. His thrusts became erratic as he neared his orgasm. Your knot snapped in your belly, making your walls tighten around him with slick. He thrust into harshly a couple more times with a string of curses as he chased his own orgasm. The edges of your vision were dark with pleasure as you watched him pull out of you, pumping his length a few times and moaning when he finished on your stomach. You both sat in silence for a couple of moments before he got off the bed, walking over to the bathroom to find the towel he used after his shower. He came back to your side to start wiping his cum from your skin, he made a grossed out face when he touched the sticky towel and threw it to the corner of the room when he was satisfied you were cleaned off. He found his boxers on the floor and pulled them on before disappearing into the kitchen. You sat up in the bed, pulling your panties back over your legs, before stowing yourself underneath the warm covers. You had just had sex with Bucky Barnes, former winter soldier. You combed your fingers through your hair, smiling at Bucky when he entered back in the room with a glass of water. He returned your smile as he handed you the water, climbing back into his side of the bed. His fingers trailed over your bare back as you took a few sips from the glass. You retired the glass to the side table before turning on your side to lay next to the man. He wrapped an arm around you lovingly, you rest your head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat slow down from previous activities.
He ran his fingers through your hair, both of you laying in a comfortable silence, not wanting to ruin it with questions. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, with you, in a safe place. 
Bucky fell asleep for the first time, in years, dreamlessly.
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jaeskind · 3 years
Text
Billy didn’t look at him anymore. Not since the fight.
It’s something like a relief at first. Really. Not getting hassled in the halls, or in gym class anymore. Except for Tommy, but even he gives it up after a week or so, after it’s clear Billy isn’t biting.
Winter melts into a muddy spring, and it’s about then that it starts to grate. At least, it starts to grate in a way that can’t be tuned out into the background, like so many other paranoias and stresses. Steve manages, he’s been doing it long before he knew there were literal monsters in the world.
So he starts looking instead.
Not in a weird way, it’s not like Steve’s going out of his way to cross paths with Billy. He might... drift to certain places he thinks Billy might frequent; the parking lot at lunch, the bathroom near the science labs with the tape patched window, even past the principal’s office when he’d heard rumblings of fights in the halls. No luck.
In fact, the only time he does manage to see Billy outside of the usual snatches was a lunch he’d decided to spend in the library, Steve trying to take a step in the direction of getting over himself and Billy Hargrove. So... library. It makes sense. What doesn’t make sense is said hurdle number two strolling into the library like he somehow belongs there, bored blue eyes scanning the tables and shelves, managing to skip over Steve twice before settling on him. Which is just... rude, first of all.
Steve can deal with rude though, what really pushes it over the edge is the way Billy stalks to the nearest table, snatches a book off it, shoves it into the return bin and turns right back out of the library. To anyone who hadn’t watched the whole petty performance, it would look rational, but it was enough to turn that grating into a full blown itch crawling under Steve’s skin. This is personal, somehow. He just needs a chance to... air it out, ask Hargrove what his problem was. Because that’ll just go great, right?
Just talking to Billy really makes the best sense. It cuts right to the heart of everything fast, and even though Steve knows all too well what Billy can do when his buttons are pushed, he’s not actually all that afraid. There’s just no room for it in his pretty little hair sprayed head, so it lurks somewhere in his guts instead, waiting for the right time to rear its ugly head. It’s another two days before it gets the chance, two days of reassuring himself that this is the best idea, two days of taking extra long extra hot showers and scrubbing at his skin until he’s pink.
Two days before Steve walks out towards the rapidly emptying parking lot and sees the Camaro is still there. Billy lounges behind the wheel, a cigarette hanging between his lips and the window beside him cracked just enough to let in fresh air. The pounding rumble of drums and guitars that reaches Steve as he walks towards his own car isn’t undercut by the hum of an engine, which means Billy’s here for a bit. Waiting for Max, who’s more than likely in AV club, if Steve’s got his days right.
This is it.
He’s backed in a few spaces away from the Camaro, but by the time Steve’s casual pace gets him to the Beamer, the last car seperating them is pulling away. There’s still a few too many people lingering in the lot for him to want to try anything. So he throws his bag into the passenger seat and fishes in the glove box for a pack of smokes he hasn’t touched in months, a single sad looking cigarette sitting alongside a lighter in the box. He pulls back, closing the car door with his ass while he lights up and immediately regrets it, the stale tobacco roughing up his throat. It’s the most he can to do to keep his eyes from bugging out of his head, but by the third puff he’s managed to smooth himself out, managed to settle into something that should seem at least halfway to casual to anyone looking.
The sun might be out, shining valiantly in a too blue sky, but there’s still a bitter chill in the air, spring reluctant to come out fully sprung as always. Steve watches the lot empty, silently cheering when the last stragglers get far enough away for comfort. He throws his unfinished smoke to the side and steps forward, long strides taking him to the Camaro’s window. Fingers rap on the glass with a firm confidence Steve doesn’t actually feel, though he does feel an indignant bristling rush up his spine when the blond simply slouches away from the window, reaching out to turn the radio up while he shifts.
“Asshole!” Before Steve can talk himself out of it he’s striding around the Camaro and pulling open the passenger door, sliding himself into the seat and turning to Billy before he can say a word. “What the hell is your problem with me man? Did I miss something?” Because sure, there’s the obvious, but the obvious doesn’t warrant months of being ignored and avoided. Weeks, yeah, he could see it, but this was getting ridiculous.
Billy doesn’t do anything more than look at him, at first. It’s obvious even behind the sunglasses that for the first time in a long time his eyes are on the other boy. His lips stretch open to show off most of his teeth and the quickest flash of a pink tongue. It’s an expression that might look like a smile on someone else. “There’s no fucking problem, Harrington.” The words don’t growl out of him, despite the snarl on his face, but the carefully measured hostility might actually be worse.
It’s a threat that Steve tucks away for later, when the nerves thumping at his false sense of confidence break through. “Well you know, I just thought-“
“I don’t give a shit what you’re thinking.” Quick as anything, Billy cuts him off, lifting his hand from the shifter to shove a finger into Steve’s face. “There’s no fucking problem.”
The nerves haven’t broken free yet, so Steve takes that as permission from himself to poke again, scoffing out a single disbelieving “Dude.” It’s enough to snap the frayed tether of control holding the other together, the outstretched hand grabbing a hold of Steve’s shirt while the other curls into a fist.
Billy has freckles on his knuckles. It’s a stupid thing to notice while said knuckles are flying towards his jaw, but hey, no one ever accused Steve of being smart.
The strike to his jaw has him groaning, dazed, but it doesn’t stop his hands from fruitlessly scrabbling at Billy’s, trying to free himself. The other hasn’t stopped moving, twisting in the seat to press more of his weight against Steve while a hand searches for the handle. All it takes is a rough shove, once the doors open, and Steve tips back ass first onto the pavement, the wind knocking out of him in an entirely different way.
There’s just enough sense left in his head to make him scrabble back, just barely getting his legs out of the way before the car door slams shut again, and well, Steve knows the difference between pushing his luck a little and a lot. He gets back to his feet, dusts himself off, walks back to his own car and he just drives home.
He’d only learned one thing in the whole stupid endeavour, but it was one thing that somehow made everything else worth it. The wasted weeks and the edges of nightmares and the bruise that blooms almost immediately on his skin. All worth it, because now Steve knows having Billy’s eyes on him is much better than being ignored.
Now he just needs to figure out how to make it happen more.
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angstsfordays · 3 years
Text
Beautiful Pain (4)
Chapter Four- Now or Never
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader
Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.
Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.
That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.
Chapter synopsis: Your supposed ally leads you to an unlawful nation where danger lurks at every corner. Bucky starts to see you in a different light.
Warnings: Sexual objectification. Very bad undercover work. Calling Sam daddy. Sexual innuendos.
Word count: 4.8k
Notes: I am very humbled that people have been enjoying the story and liking it so far! This means to me a lot as a novice writer! ☺️
I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, felt like I got more to expand for the Madripoor episode. I love to know what y’all think of it so far! 😘
The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!
Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three
Next: Chapter Five
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As Zemo made arrangements on his end, you did not know what to expect. You, Sam and Bucky were brought to the tarmac of a small private airport, your attention was brought to the private plane that Zemo was leading you towards.
Sam made a comment on Zemo’s wealth and the latter explained that he was practically royalty before the Avengers destroyed his country. Touché.
You took the seat right across from Zemo and you couldn’t help but put your guard up around the man. He could sense the tension all over your face and offered champagne to which you declined. You wanted to make sure you were fully sober around this guy.
As you looked on at the exchange he had with his steward, he almost looked decent for a moment. You wouldn’t have thought of this guy to be a manipulative and scheming man that caused that chain of events many years ago.
“You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell.” Zemo started off after having a sip of his champagne. He then paused in his actions as he looked over all of you and corrected him.
“Oh that’s right, you all do. My apologies.” Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms as you leaned into the comfort of the plush aeroplane seat.
Sam tried to get Zemo to start talking but the baron brushed it off for a moment as he looked at a book in fascination. As Zemo brought up a familiar notebook, he asked who Nakajima was.
Your eyes perked up at the familiar name and you immediately turned to look at Bucky who instantly pounced on Zemo and grabbed him into a chokehold. Bucky warned him not to touch his notebook or he would actually kill Zemo, probably with his bare hands.
As Bucky settled down in his seat once more, you gave him a knowing look but he averted his eyes to avoid eye contact. The conversation then took a more light-hearted turn as Sam tried to describe how Steve noted down his suggestion of the Trouble Man soundtrack in the notebook that now was passed onto Bucky.
Sam asked if Bucky liked it too and the super-soldier replied that he liked 40’s music to which Sam look almost offended that Bucky didn’t share his taste in music. Bucky looked like he didn’t even want to bother but he clarified that he indeed liked it just to get Sam to back off.
Zemo decided to join in the conversation and put his two cents. Sam was surprised at how Zemo managed to eloquently describe the music style. Afterwhich, Sam went on to say how everyone loved Marvin Gaye while Bucky agreed that he did too.
Sam added that Steve adored the singer too. Hearing this, Zemo commented that Bucky must have looked up to Steve very much.
Yes, we all did. You wanted to add that in too.
Zemo, however, then took the liberty of giving his view on Steve. He talked about how dangerous it could be to idolize super soldiers like Steve and start to disregard their flaws, thus allowing him to not be held accountable for the repercussions that stem from his actions. Even if that meant the formation of movements, the fighting of wars, the loss of innocent lives.
Sam gave him a warning to better stop talking but Zemo continued on. When Zemo noticed how you started shaking your head in dissatisfaction, he gave a light chuckle before speaking directly to you.
“Miss Y/N. Contrary to my own personal views on enhanced individuals, I do find you fascinating, The files I read on you only make me more curious. Can I ask some questions?” You could feel the attention being put on you in the room and you grew slightly uncomfortable.
“What do you want?” Hoping to act nonchalant to mask your nervousness, you crossed your legs and leaned back into your seat.
“You have no family history. You grew up in an orphanage, am I right?” Nodding at the facts he laid out, Zemo carried on.
“You couldn’t have possibly been experimented on. You have gotten into any accidents?” You shook your head in response.
“Chemical exposure, radioactive bites, cosmic ray exposures….those are the possibilities that an ordinary person could obtain superhuman abilities according to the theories online.” Unimpressed, you continued to shake your head at him.
“Tell me. I’m curious.” You couldn’t entertain the likes of him but seeing how he was leaning in to wait for your answer, you gave an indifferent expression before speaking.
“It appeared out of nowhere. Someone committed arson in the local convenience shop where I was at the time. I was trapped with the elderly shopkeeper and I thought we were both going to die. A burning beam was falling onto us and I thought that was the end. I suddenly emitted a burst of energy that managed to put own the fire and incinerate the beam into ashes.” As you retold your story, memories of your fear from that time came back.
“The shopkeeper lost consciousness but I saw everything. I wasn’t sure if it was me but I ran away. I couldn’t’ return to the orphanage because I was afraid the police would find me. I lived on the streets for a week before my powers manifested again.” Your eyes fall to your fidgety hands, cracking your knuckles as it gave you some sort of relief.
“A kid was crossing the street without his mum knowing and a car was speeding on the road. I tried to reach out and pull him back in but the car was just inches away from us both. I caused a scene that couldn’t be ignored. S.H.I.E.L.D managed to find me and took me in.” Zemo’s eyes were tracking your every movement and expression in a way that Bucky didn’t like. As if you were something up for display and Bucky put his foot down.
He was getting protective of you and did not want Zemo to harbour any hidden intentions. Who knew what Zemo was thinking of?
Zemo spoke up before Bucky had the chance.
“Fascinating just fascinating. It’s like your powers had been dormant inside you all along. Are you even human?”
“Last time I checked, my blood is still red.” Your sarcastic response earned a laugh from Zemo and he stroked his chin as he continued to observe you quietly. Sensing he had more thoughts in his mind, you returned the questions back to him.
“You hate enhanced individuals so much, would you get rid of me if you had the chance?” Growing a smirk, Zemo wasn’t expecting you to ask him that and he was more than eager to give his reply.
“I am undecided, but you’re different. I can see you are more discreet than the others, just like Bucky over here.” Zemo made his final remark before he moved on to talking about the location that you were headed.
His words sunk in and you kept on thinking about how he hit the nail on the head.
Yes, you had to be more discreet. You could never proudly show off what you had, instead, you had to keep yourself hidden in order to protect yourself.
Recalling your S.H.I.E.L.D days, you remembered how you were told to keep your powers on a low profile by Director Fury himself.
Your lab results came back and it was discovered that you had a special gene in your DNA that could be identified. There weren’t any references or connections to existing research and findings so you were viewed almost as an abnormality.
It was then later discovered that your powers were connected to your life force and if you ever over-exerted yourself, you could possibly die. That almost happened back during the civil war between the Avengers. It was the first time you ever used your powers on a larger scale and you had even passed out at the end of the battle.
You remembered waking up in a hospital bed on the raft.
When you found refuge in Wakanda, you got to learn more about your powers with Shuri’s help. She believed as long as you trained your stamina and built up your strength, you could control your powers without ever worrying about being drained. That’s how you found yourself the privilege to receive special training with the Dora Milajae under King T’Challa’s request.
You definitely owed the Wakandans big time.
Seeing how you were uncharacteristically down, Bucky wanted to check in with you out of concern. However, he chose to restrain himself, thinking that you probably one to be left alone. He wished he could do more for you like you do for him.
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Before you knew it, you landed in Madripoor. An island nation that was lawless and dangerous, yet home to the darkest of black markets and underground businesses. Zemo said that all of you could not go in as yourselves and had to basically go in undercover.
You couldn’t hold back your laughter when Sam changed and came out in a fancy printed suit. He was to act as a real life promiscuous and rich man who really could have been his doppelgänger when you saw a picture of the man.
However, you weren’t one to laugh when Zemo asked you to act as one of Conrad Mack aka Smiling Tiger’s fling for the night. When you first received your outfit, you threw it back in Zemo’s face.
You were not the most comfortable with sexy and revealing clothing personally so you couldn’t imagine yourself wearing it at all. Zemo tried to convince you that Smiling Tiger’s women were all of a certain type so you had to go through with it in order to fit in.
Letting out a groan, you snatched the little champagne dress with an open keyhole back. The front was designed to give a loose look that shyly reveals your cleavage. The dress held onto your shoulders with thin straps and it overall gave the impression of a silk slip dress.
When you put it on, you wiped your clammy hands on the silk material and grimaced at how it barely covered your ass. You were grateful that the shoes you received had thick block heels as you had forgotten how to even walk in high heels anymore.
Swiping on the red lipstick for the final touch, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves as you looked in the mirror. You got this.
Stepping out of the changing room, you were met with the full attention of all three men and you put a finger up to warn them of making any unneeded comments.
“Damn Y/N. I mean this in the nicest way possible but this is an entirely different look for you. In a good way, of course.” Sam tried to compliment you seeing that you weren’t fully into your outfit.
“Thanks, Sam.” You knew his intentions were always pure and good, so you didn’t mind it much. As he and Zemo went off to discuss something, you saw that Bucky was still looking at you intently. He must think you look weird, you thought.
In all the years that Bucky have known you, it was the first time he has seen you looking like this. You always had gone for casual and comfortable looks in your daily life. The only time he has seen something different was when you put on your tailored suits for formal events.
He had to do a double-take when he saw how the little dress number hugged your figure in the right places.
Bucky knew he shouldn’t continue looking but his eyes fleeting quick glances when you were looking elsewhere. He always felt that you were one of the most beautiful people he knew on the inside, the fact that you could look past what he did and accept him for he was. He never felt that he had to pretend to be fine when you’re around because you were there to accept him for better or worst.
Seeing you now stirred up a different feeling inside of him. Why did you suddenly seem so attractive this time? He did not want to be that guy who viewed women differently because of the way they dressed. In fact, he was never the kind to like someone because of the way they look but more of how they make him feel.
However, observing how bashful and shy you look in front of him, Bucky suddenly felt rather nervous himself. He saw you taking a step towards and he swore his breath hitched as his mind was registering this scene in slow-motion.
Your hands came up to put his dog tags inside his black shirt before going for the zipper of his jacket. Your eyes fleetingly met his for a moment before you started saying something.
Bucky wasn’t able to process it as he was entirely focused on how you were casually helping him as you normally did, but his mind can’t help but think of it as an intimate gesture.
You continued to buckle up the belts of Bucky’s harness and couldn’t help but to relish in the act of caring for him. This was probably the only time you could fulfil your feelings of wanting to be close to him without crossing the line.
“All done.” Once you have adjusted the straps on his shoulder to make sure they were comfortable, you glanced to see Bucky looking down at you in a daze.
“Hey Buck, you there?” Calling for his attention, Bucky snapped back to reality as he saw you staring at him with a curious doe-eyed look. Clearing his thought, Bucky scrambled to recall what you had said and just continued looking at you in question.
You went on to ask if the straps were comfortable to which he nodded curtly. You grinned in satisfaction for a short moment before it fell into a tight-lipped smile.
“Bucky, are you really ok to go into character? I know how hard you worked to get away from all of that.” Implying how he had to act like the Winter Soldier for this undercover mission, Bucky took a deep breath before answering you.
“I’ll be fine. It’s just for this mission.” You just silently nodded at his words before signalling that you two should get a move on.
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All of you were heading to Low Town as Zemo named to find his informant, Selby. Zemo reminded everyone to stay in character regardless of the situation, if not the mission would be compromised and your lives could be at risk.
Zemo gave you a personal warning to avoid using your powers if possible. If your powers were revealed publicly, there was a high chance you were at a bigger risk than the rest because people would want to take you for their own.
It was not every day an enhanced individual with superpowers walks into Madripoor and you would definitely become a prize to be coveted.
You were first greeted by the hustle and bustle of the nightlife crowd. The neon signs lit up the incredibly dark streets followed by the loud booming music that could be heard from some of the places that you passed. Your eyes were focused on Zemo’s back as he led all of you to the location, refusing to make eye contact with anyone else.
Entering the crowded bar, you could hear Zemo speaking Russian to Bucky. You weren’t familiar with the language but you could make out one world, Soldat.
Sneaking your arms around Sam who was caught off, you gave me a pointed look that told him that the undercover work starts now. He gave you a brief nod before rolling out his shoulders and you pressed yourself closer to him, putting your acting face on.
All of you stood by the bar where the bartender greeted all of you.
“Hello, gentlemen. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” The bartender nodded to Sam. His eyes moved over to meet yours before greeting you, Miss. You gave your best smile in return.
“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.” Zemo told the bartender. You could see the shift in his eyes and saw someone from out of the corner of your eye moving away. Shifting your stance, the bartender didn’t acknowledge Zemo’s words and glanced back to you again.
“New face?” His comment was directed towards Sam but seeing how Sam was hesitating, you realised that he hadn’t had much experience with undercover work at all. He was a military man not a spy or agent after all.
“Hopefully, the last.” You giggled shyly and looked up to Sam with an affectionate gaze before giving the bartender a wink.
The bartender nodded curtly before asking Sam (Smiling Tiger) if he wanted his usual. Sam nodded silently in an efforts to prevent himself from doing anything out of character.
You caught Bucky looking at you as he leaned sideways on the counter. Your silent exchange was a way for you two to check in with each other and a brief smile mirrored on both of your faces before you turn to see the bartender taking out a snake from a big jar.
Trying to control your expression at the disgust coming up your throat, you subtly swallowed heavily at the sight of how the bartender slit the snake open. Sam who had his back turned for a brief moment was shocked to see what was presented on the counter in front of him.
Zemo tried to continue to put on the act and acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Your global knowledge and several visits to Asia made you realised why this was the Smiling Tiger’s favourite. Snakes infused into wine was touted to be an aphrodisiac to help a man increase, ahem, stamina.
Bucky felt almost bad for Sam and looked away briefly. You could see Sam gulping down nervously when the bartender added the finishing touch to the drink and you gently rubbed his arm for emotional support.
“I love these.” Sam managed to say through gritted his teeth and clinked his glass with Zemo. Your own bile almost resurfaced and you quickly turned your head to hide your nervous gulp.
Putting up a thumbs up awkwardly, you wanted to facepalm when the bartender looked back at Sam with a dubious expression.
You knew you needed to do something so everyone’s covers won’t be blown. Putting on a sly smirk, you let a hand move up Sam’s chest slowly and sensually before resting it where his heart was.
“Looks like you and I will be in for a long night.” Adding a slight giggle, you pretended to act shy after you spoke your words. Sam was trying his hardest to not look bewildered at your act while Bucky was trying to suppress a sudden wave of annoyance that washed over him.
He knew that this was an act but he still didn’t like it for some reason. He had to admit that he was not expecting you to get into character so well, seeing that this image you were presenting was the furthest cry from who you actually were.
The bartender looked slightly less suspicious of all of you before he went away. You could feel Sam heaving a sigh of relief beside you and you did the same alongside him.
Another man came up to Zemo, telling him of how he was unwelcomed in the area. Zemo putting up a cool façade, explained he had no business with someone named the power broker. Zemo restated his business here once more before the guy left.
Zemo explained that the power broker runs Madripoor and it was best you all stayed under his radar. Moments passed before another guy came up behind Zemo and Zemo turned to Bucky talking in Russian once more.
The instant the man placed his hands on Zemo, Bucky went into winter soldier mode. Everyone’s attention was directed to the scene happening. The whirling sound of Bucky’s vibranium was heard clearly as he was nearly crushing the man’s hands and went ahead to knock him over.
More and more people started to gather fool’s courage to take on Bucky. You saw how he easily took down everyone with barely any sweat.
“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo commented to you and Sam, and in all honesty, you wanted to choke him like what Bucky was doing to another guy on the bar’s counter.
Hearing the continuous clicking of guns from everyone in the bar, your senses were now alert at the possibility of having to break character and use your powers.
“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” Zemo whispered into your ear and grabbed onto your hand before you could even think of doing anything.
Zemo got Bucky to back down and the bartender told you all that Selby was ready for your visit. Sam checked in with Bucky to which he responded with a curt nod.
As you made your way along the back end of the bar, you could see the stacks of cash all over a table and the armed guards that filled up every corner of the room.
“You should know, Baron. People don’t come into my bar and make demands.” Selby turned out to look like what you would imagine her to be. She sat comfortably on her couch with a dominant presence and seemed like she was not someone easy to deal with.
Zemo tried to reassure her that he was making offers not demands to quell her mood. Selby asked how Zemo was able to escape from prison and Zemo replied smugly on how people like them always found a way.
As Zemo tried to shift focus onto the order of business, Selby wasn’t still into it. Making a comment about Sam’s taller than usual height, Sam not knowing what to respond just nodded in silence.
She even purred at him teasingly before her eyes landed on you.
“Who’s this pretty little thing you have here? Where are you from?” Selby’s eyes narrowed in as you sense everyone starting to look flustered by the unexpected question. You were just meant to play a background character but didn’t expect the sudden attention.
Biting your lips into a furtive grin, you snaked your hands around Sam’s biceps. “Daddy picked me up from the club that I was working at. He says I am his one and only now.”
The men all tried to stop their jaws from dropping to the floor at your sweetly coy act. Who were you?
“Hmm…” Selby hummed while she looked you up and down. “You can do better, sweetie,” Selby remarked smugly before giving a subtle gesture to herself.
Lips forming into an ‘o’, you feigned a surprised reaction at the flattery. You tried to send a flirtatious look back so that Selby would be in a better mood.
Your act was rewarded when Selby grinned wider and asked Zemo for his offer. In exchange for information on the super-soldier serum, Zemo was willing to trade Bucky in pretence. He added how he would give Selby the codes word to control Bucky, treating him like an object.
A wave of anger started rushing through you as the scene unfolded and you glanced to see how Selby became more intrigued.
“Hmm, I have plenty of strong men already working for me. What else can he offer?” Zemo was taken aback by Selby’s words, thinking that she would already be interested in Bucky.
As the men were grappling to come up with a good response, you went on your first instinct and spoke up.
“Well he is rather handsome, isn’t he?” Everyone’s focus turned onto you and you took a breath to continue as Selby gave you an expecting look.
“Not as handsome as my daddy here but-” Walking around Sam, you headed towards Bucky who was trying to look unbothered but dying of curiosity on what you were about to do.
“He seems like fun to play with.” You purred as you gazed at Bucky’s profile. You gestured for Bucky to face you and could see how he was still staying in character. Running your fingers down his five o'clock shadow, your eyes glinted as you batted your lashes flirtatiously before looking over your shoulder back at Shelby.
“You can’t help but imagine having a good time with him. Super soldier serum should have some perks, no?” Your hidden innuendo was loud and clear to everyone in the room. If this didn’t appeal to Selby, you didn’t know what will.
Sam was trying his hardest to maintain his expression as he couldn’t believe his ears. Never in a million years would he think the sweet and innocent Y/N he knew actually dared to speak like that.
Bucky did his best to tighten his jaw and continue his stoic facade to hide the shock from what you had just said.
Never did he thought you would take the situation to such a turn. Your improv was unexpected and he couldn’t believe the woman in front of him was actually you.
Your sudden bold and cheeky persona was doing something to him. Your innuendo about him started to make him feel hot in his ears. Bucky had to clench his fist tightly to get himself to hold it together as he felt his heart racing out of nowhere.
He didn’t know what was happening to him but he knew you were having some sort of effect on him.
“Of course, that’s my silly opinion.” Turning to face Selby with a mischievous smile to keep up your character, you noted her looking at you thoughtfully as she rubbed her chin.
“Not just pretty but you’re witty, aren’t you?” Selby noted as she grinned like a Cheshire cat. Satisfied with your input, Selby then revealed what she knew about the super-soldier serums.
Apparently, there was a doctor, Dr William Nagel who has been helping the power broker to create the serums here in Madripoor. When Zemo tried to probe further about Nagel’s location, Selby decided that Zemo was overstepping.
In the very next moment, you could hear a vibration of a phone and saw Sam reaching out to his jacket.
Great, all of your covers might be blown. Selby demands that Sam answered it on speaker. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. To carry on the act, Sam reluctantly proceeded to answer the phone.
A woman’s voice came up and in the next sentences spoken, you realised that she was his sister, Sarah. Oh boy, this wouldn’t end well. You closed your eyes in prayer as you hoped it can go over smoothly.
Taking a sharp intake of breath, you looked to see Bucky glancing down in shared unease. Sam was doing his best to make sure his cover won’t get blown. You thought all was going well but when you heard Sam’s name from Sarah, you knew you were all toast.
Selby immediately called for all of you to be killed and in that moment, all hell broke loose. Selby got shot in a blink of an eye and her guards were up in action. Bucky pushed you behind him protectively as he fought off Selby’s men.
Once all her guards are dealt with, Zemo called for weapons to drop and you took the back exit.
Making a swift escape, all of you tried to play it cool while taking long quick strides. The sound of the first gunshot made you jumped and sprang into a run. You saw Zemo took off in another direction but you didn’t have time for him.
You, Bucky and Sam decided to sprint ahead. “I can’t run in these heels.” Sam cried out and you retorted in annoyance.
“How do you think I feel? Mine’s twice as taller than yours!”
Bucky reached over to grab your hand and interlocked your fingers together. His super-speed was practically lifting you off the ground, dragging you like a rag dog.
"Hey! What the hell man? What about me?" Bucky ignored Sam's whining and focused on not letting your hand go.
Not knowing where you are headed, a sense of dread started pouring on you and you grew anxious by the second. People on motorbikes were starting to drive up behind you three.
You were wondering if it’s time to not give care and actually use your powers for real this time. All of a sudden, the two people on the bikes behind you have been shot by someone from above and you stopped in your tracks to locate that individual, fearing you were next.
Zemo reappeared from the shadows and claimed that you all might have a guardian angel.
“Drop it, Zemo.” The familiar voice brought relief as you matched it to the face that emerged into your sight.
Your smile at the thought of a friendly face faltered when she continued pointing a gun towards all of you. Sharon didn’t seem as pleased as you were. Turns out she had to fall off the grid and found herself in Madripoor after the turn of events many years ago.
"Y/N, is that you?" She took a double-take on you, probably not used to seeing you dress up like this.
"Hey." You awkwardly replied. The moment didn't last as Sharon trained her eyes on the men and continued to be hostile.
Your heart dropped as you hear her telling of how she was unable to be in contact with her family anymore. She had become a fugitive and still is. An immense amount of guilt washed all over you when she retorted about how she wasn’t backed by the Avengers.
You weren’t batch mates with Sharon back in S.H.I.E.L.D academy but you became friends when you crossed paths during work. You could not believe you haven’t reached out to her all this time.
Bucky pleaded with Sharon for her help and Sharon gave a thoughtful look at all of you. When she saw you with your uncomfortable expression, she gave a sighed and stated that she wasn’t done discussing the topic.
Offering refuge in her place at High Town, all of you accept it.
You sat beside her in the front and the two of you exchanged silent looks before she started the engine. What were the odds of seeing her again in Madripoor?
You hoped to be able to get a chance to talk to her later.
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