#to have bucky tell me its not my fault would be fantastic but oh well

[anarcoqueer1994]

You Are My Sunshine

A little Shrinkyclinks fic I am working on. Not beta read so ope.

Steve had retired a few months back, giving Sam the shield. His life had been quiet enough since then, getting a two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn with Bucky when Bucky returned from the blip. Bucky, though,would still go out on missions with Sam and did some freelance work for the government. Steve would never admit that though his friend was more than capable, he would still get nervous when he was away for days at a time, worried that he would lose his friend for a third time. But overall, it was going fine. That is until one day when one of Bucky's jobs followed him home.

An unfortunate result of the recent Flag Smashers attacks, some anti-super soldier terrorist groups rose-up out of fear. Some wealthy elites, both part of world governments and independent ,backed these groups in secret, supplying tech and money, as they see super soldiers as a threat to their power. They weaponized these people’s fear. These groups were ruthless in their pursuits, ordered to not care who they hurt, as long as they eliminated super soldiers. 

Bucky and Sam had faced one of these groups recently, when they attempted to come after and kill Bucky while they were out on an intelligence mission. The two men thought that they had taken care of the group after a long, drawn-out battle, rounding them up to deal with the consequences. What they hadn't had counted on was a second team following Bucky back to Brooklyn, after he and Sam went their separate ways. He had done well to keep he and Steve’s location a secret, but got careless this time, letting his guard down.

So now these militants were in New York in front of their apartment building, threatening to hurt other people, to get to Steve and Bucky. Of course the men don’t  back down, not waiting for backup to arrive. The fight had been tense, Bucky and Steve vs 10 well-armed men, but nothing they couldn't handle. So they managed to subdue them. But as a last-ditch effort, one shot something right towards Bucky who had been occupied with another one of the men. It appeared like a red laser beam, almost something out of a sci-fi film. Steve noticed it coming, and not having the time to warn Bucky, jumps in front of his friend, taking the hit. He goes down hard to the ground, unconscious instantly. "Steve!" Bucky yells out, heart sinking. When his friend doesn’t  move, he is urged back into action, protecting his now defenseless friend. It takes everything in him not to revert to killing, like the Winter Soldier, but the man who shot Steve was definitely in bad shape by the time backup,government agents, arrived. They round the would be terrorist up and get them hauled away.

As the men are being taken away, Bucky runs towards Steve who is unresponsive on the ground but still breathing. He yells for an ambulance. He scoops Steve up in his arms, and against his chest, kneeling on the ground, whispering "Come on, Stevie…" he feels like this is all his fault. He was the one who brought them there, he was the one the gun was aiming for, and now the love of his life, however unrequited that may be, is lying unconscious on the ground, and god only knows what that laser did. He feels a tear well up in his eye, forcing himself not to shed it. This is not the time to break down. But he is terrified. He hasn’t seen Steve completely unresponsive in years, not since they were kids and he would get into fights and get knocked unconscious. Bucky, then too, would often lose his mind, beating up anyone who had touched his Stevie, whether Steve knew it or not. 

But before the ambulance arrives, Steve is opening his eyes again, smiling at Bucky. “Hey Buck.” He sounds completely fine.  

Bucky lets out a sigh of relief, it looks like whatever the laser was intended to do didn’t work on him. “How ya' feeling, pal?” Bucky smiles back.

“Great, just a little tired, but I don’t feel any different otherwise.” Suddenly, Steve becomes aware of Bucky’s arms still wrapped around him, pulling him close to his chest. He blushes as he clears his throat. “You planning on squeezing me to death, bud?”

Now Bucky is going red, trying to laugh it off as he lets go. “I thought you were dying, punk.”

Steve just laughs back, sitting up right as the ambulance arrives. They bring him to the truck and check him out, giving him a clean bill of health. So, Steve and Bucky return to the apartment. Both showering and then Steve opting to go lay down. Seriously injured or not, being knocked unconscious took a lot out of him.

Bucky sat in their living room, trying his best to block out the events of today. For those few minutes, when he thought he could lose Steve, he had felt like everything around him was going to crash down, burying him in a pit of loneliness and sadness that he knew he wouldn't be able to escape. The thought of losing Steve again made him sick to his stomach. Steve was his everything, even when they were kids in Brooklyn, when sickness would ravage the blonde’s body and he would spend days at the Rogers’ home, sitting near his bedside, or sliding into bed to pull him close to keep him warm. Worried that he could lose his Stevie at any moment. Terrified at the thought. And seeing Steve unconscious today, brought all those feelings back. It was worse than seeing him roughed up in battle, because at least those times he had been conscious. But this time was different.  He doesn’t know what he would do without his favorite person in the whole world, the one person who understands him. The person he would do anything for, be anything for, just to make him happy. But Steve was fine, he reminded himself.

So, he tries to shake away those feelings, sending mindless texts to Sam, who had messaged him as soon as he heard what happened. Bucky filled him in, told him Steve was alright. Then deciding to read, he picked up where he left off on The Lord of the Rings. He has to say, he loves these books, always liking The Hobbit, so being ecstatic to find out that the author had written more later. One good thing about waking up in the future. This did the trick, immersing himself into the story, melting away any lingering thoughts of today. 

That is until a couple hours pass, and he hears rough coughing from Steve’s bedroom. This catches him off guard. Steve (and himself), don’t really get sick thanks to the fantastic immune system afforded to super soldiers.

He gets up and makes his way to Steve’s bedroom, knocking as he hears the continued coughing fit, punctuated by wheezing. When Steve doesn’t answer, Bucky just opens the door, too worried to care about etiquette. When he enters the room, he stops dead in his tracks. There, sitting up coughing, is Steve. But Steve is different then when he went to lay down, He is much shorter, lacking any muscle mass, skinny, drowning in the navy t-shirt and grey sweatpants he went to sleep in. He looks like he did before the serum, give, or take a few years due to the time he has spent outside of the ice.

Bucky steps closer “Stevie?” He is shocked and worried again.

When Steve finally catches his breath, he looks down at his own hands instead of meeting Bucky’s stare, mortified by his sudden appearance change. The other man stepped closer to the bed. “Steve, I think the ray wasn’t so harmless.” He tries to say plainly, not showing the worry in his voice. For as much as he had been angry at Steve back in the day for letting the military experiment on him, he was ultimately grateful that the serum had helped his body fight back diseases that had tormented him his entire life. 

Steve’s bright blue eyes, which always stood out more against his paler, sicklier skin, shoot up and meet Bucky’s and he snaps “You think?” His harsh tone caused Bucky to recoil slightly. Steve, seeing this, quickly apologizes, feeling guilty. “Sorry, Buck…” Bucky nods and steps forward again, taking a seat on the edge of Steve’s bed. "Don't  worry about it, it was a dumb thing to say. "Bucky blushes slightly, cursing himself for being such an idiot sometimes. 

Steve sighs, not towards Bucky but in general, towards the room.“I’m just frustrated. I woke up a few minutes ago and I was this…and then it got hard to breathe and for the first time in years it felt like I was having an asthma attack. Isn’t that pathetic?”

Something switches in Bucky’s head when Steve calls himself pathetic, something more protective like how he used to feel when they were much younger. He reaches over like it is nothing, placing his hand on Steve’s bony knee. “I’m going to tell you like I did back then. Nothing about you is pathetic. You can’t help what your body does. And you…you jumped in front of a gun to protect me. I wouldn’t call that pathetic. I’d call that being a hero.” 

Steve cracks a small smile. “Whatever you say…” He does not believe him but knows Bucky won’t back down on this, he never has. He lets out a shiver. The apartment is freezing. It is February but they keep the heat low since both men had such a high tolerance to cold. Bucky notices his friend shivering. “Oh shoot, I sorry Stevie. Let me get the heat and then…I’m going to call down to the Avenger’s Tower.” Pepper has been keeping it going and he knows she will know who can help them. 

Steve nods, hating feeling so useless, but knowing Bucky is there to help. That he can rely on Bucky not to make him feel worse, just be there to support and help him. He used to hate the way Bucky would always step in. He used to think it was because Bucky thought he was weak. But in reality, its because Bucky is the best friend a guy could ask for.

Bucky turns the heat up before making the call. It’s pretty late at this point, so Pepper tells them to come down tomorrow and they will take a look at him. Bruce can be there in the morning to help. Bucky hates that, hates that he has to wait. He is worried about Steve and wants answers now. But he knows she is right. They should just rest, but first thing in the morning Bucky will be down there with Steve. 

He makes his way back to Steve’s bedroom not bothering to knock on the half-opened door, wishing he did though. Steve was facing away from him, but he was naked, ass in full view of Bucky. Even when he was small and skinny, Bucky thought he had a fantastic ass, not that anyone would have been able to tell back in the day, Steve always wore clothes too big for him. Bucky blushes as he tries to get out without Steve noticing him, but he is distracted, clumsily bumping into the door framing, causing a loud bang. Steve, turns around, suddenly covering up with the shirt that is in his hand and turning red.

Bucky stumbles through an apology. “I am so sorry…sorry…I…uh...” before just running out of the room like an embarrassed school girl. 

Smooth Barnes. He thinks to himself as he slumps down on the couch. He doesn’t know why he got so flustered, it's not like he hasn’t seen Steve naked before, changing around each other all the time as kids. Well, until his dad said they were too old to be getting dressed around each other. That was also the same time his dad had told him that they were too old to be “hugging like that”, too old to be holding hands, “Boys your age don’t need to be that affectionate with their friends'' and “Do you want folks to think you are a pansy?” Bucky closes his eyes, unsuccessfully trying to rid his mind of that memory. He thanks god that his dad never found out how he really felt for his best friend. Not that Steve felt that back, so nothing happened but still. Steve was just a good guy. He sits and tries not to drown in his thoughts. 

~

Steve can’t believe Bucky just walked in on him like this. He feels so unattractive, so weak, and sickly. His mom had told him once that he was just a "late bloomer, but he was still a very handsome person that any girl would be "lucky to have", a sentiment that Bucky would back her up on. He never believed them, and without the serum he would have never "bloomed." To be fair, he also didn’t want "any girl". He just wanted Bucky. And he knows Bucky is not checking him out, why would he be? But if Bucky were to see him naked, he would have preferred it would have been in his serum enhanced body, strong and not so fragile. 

He sighs to himself and goes back to what he was doing, looking for something, anything he could wear without it practically falling off him. It's hopeless, so he settles on a pair of boxers that happened to be too small prior to today, now having to roll the waistband to get them to stay up. As far as clothing though, he doesn’t even have a pair of sweatpants he could pull tight enough to prevent from falling off. He frowns to himself, knowing Bucky was a little smaller than him, not quite having the same muscle mass. Maybe he has at least a shirt he could wear and a pair of sweatpants he could pull tight. Bucky does have some pretty tight shirts he wears when he is working out. Steve begins automatically blushing, picturing the way they cling to his muscular chest after working out, before shaking his head back to the current moment.

Given the embarrassing situation that just occurred, he is a little apprehensive about asking. But he knows he has to, already feeling terribly cold in just these oversized boxers. He calls timidly from his room. "Buck?"

His voice snaps Bucky out of his thoughts, instinctively jumping to his feet to see what Steve needs. Walking in this time, he is met with Steve staring at the floor, obviously embarrassed, clad only in some comically large boxers and socks. He feels bad for his friend, who is clearly struggling with this. He tries to stay calm, not letting it show that he thinks Steve looks absolutely adorable...and fucking hot. 

Honestly though, Bucky has thought Steve has looked hot, both when he was skinny and when he was muscular, but he has always had a soft spot for his pre-serum appearance, loving how perfectly Steve fit under his arm when he used to pull him close "to keep him warm." He is also very careful about not staring down at the boxers, knowing from accidental glimpses when they lived together in the tiny one bedroom tenement, that even before the serum, Steve was packing a lot more than you would think by looking at him. Bucky had spent countless nights picturing what it would feel like if it was inside of him, ultimately just hurting himself more with fantasies that would never come true.

Realizing quickly that he had been standing there awkwardly in silence, Bucky speaks up. "Um, what did you need pal?"

Steve refuses to look at him, Bucky understanding that this is definitely pretty hard for him. The blonde shyly asks "Um...all my clothes are too big. And um...I know you wear a slightly smaller size. Do you have anything that is tight on you that I could wear?"

Bucky lets out a small huff from his nose, smiling as he says, "Sure thing, give me one moment." Without another word, Bucky turns around and walks out of the room towards his own. 

His thoughts have been in a constant struggle with themselves since this happened. He is worried beyond belief for Steve, and what this all means to him. Will he get sick again? Can he be changed back? Should he be changed back? Is it safe? But then a part of himself, a part that he hates, is so turned on by Steve right now, having not seen him like this in years. He is having feelings he has no right to have. He is always attracted to Steve (inside and out), it's always there, and punctuating all their interactions, even if Steve couldn't see it. He was head over heels for the man. But he hates that right now while Steve is in such emotional distress, that he had the nerve to still let his head wander into fantasies. He is appalled by himself and his fucked-up head.

As he reminds himself of his continued shortcomings, he grabs his tightest pair of pants, a pair of compression running leggings, the ones he usually wears underneath some of his other pants. He hopes the stretchiness of them means they are small enough to fit on Steve. He grabs a t-shirt he recently got that is too tight on him, never wearing it but buying it at a yard sale because he had to have it. It's a little embarrassing though, pretty sure Steve has not even seen it before. It was a Captain America shirt from the 80s with a fade shield across the front of it. Bucky had tried it on once, though it was too small for him to even justify it as a workout top.

He anxiously walks back to Steve’s room, trying to make up a lie about the shirt other than "I like it because it makes me think of you and sometimes I take it with me on missions so I can pretend you are with me." Luckily when he hands Steve the clothes, Steve only raises his brow for a second, before smiling and nodding in gratitude for the clothes. Bucky sees himself out Steve could get dressed. 

After a little bit, Steve joins him out into the living room. Bucky has to hide a smile when he sees Steve in his clothes. The shirt is still too big for Steve and he can tell the pants must be pulled up high above his waist. Steve chooses not to acknowledge it, opting instead to sit down on the couch next to Bucky.

Steve doesn’t want things to be weird. Today has been weird enough, and the last thing he wants right now is his best friend being freaked out around him too. Steve, in the most casual voice he could muster says “Want to order a pizza and watch a movie?” His blue eyes stare, waiting as Bucky turns to look at him.

He simply replies “Sounds good, Stevie. I can call and you pick out the movie?” Steve nods before bending down to look at their collection of VHS tapes (they like those better than a million different streaming services.) He listens as Bucky orders, as he grabs their copy of Snow White. It always serves as a comfort, something connected to their time. He and Bucky went and seen it in the theater. Bucky had secretly saved a little extra to take Steve. Steve cherishes that memory, one of many.

Bucky for his part does everything in his power to not steal a glimpse of Steve’s ass in those leggings, scolding himself when he does anyways. Little does he know; Steve always takes any opportunity he can to check Bucky out. 

Once the pizza arrives, they settle onto the couch, and watch the movie. The pizza box starts between them, on the middle cushion as they eat. But halfway through the movie, Bucky can see Steve is shivering, the apartment still too cold for him and his body, that was lacking the ability to properly circulate his blood. He says quietly “Stevie…do you…” he blushes, embarrassed for what he is about to ask, turning his cheeks pink. He reminds himself that it is for Steve’s good. He continues. “Do you want to…cuddle?” Steve gives him a questioning look, so he quickly adds. ‘Because you're cold. I can tell you are shivering, man. Like when we were kids, you can steal my body heat. I’m basically a human radiator.” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

But Steve, regardless, looks anxious as he tentatively nods, moving the pizza box to the floor as he scoots closer, moving very close to Bucky. He looks expectantly at the bigger man to raise his arm so he can press against him, hoping he doesn’t come off as desperate and weak. But Bucky smiles as he obliges, lifting his arm and pulling Steve to his side, arm fitting perfectly around him, like Bucky was made just for Steve. He wants to melt into the feeling. He wants Bucky to never let go.

Steve is careful to keep looking forward, to not let himself get distracted and drawn in by his friend. But it is hard. He has been in love with Bucky since he was 14 years old. He always walked a thin line between appreciating Bucky’s touch as a way to get warm, like when he was sick, or in the one bedroom tenement they were living in together didn’t have proper heat, and loving Bucky's touch as something more. Just wanting to feel Bucky's skin on his, even if it was a selfish little fantasy. But he always craved that touch. Even little things like when he would put his hand reassuringly on his shoulder, or when Bucky would playfully throw his arms around Steve.

But he noticed that since the serum, Bucky had touched him less. Less casually pulling him in by the shoulders and just walking with his arm around him, or climbing in bed to keep him warm. Obviously, he didn’t need that second one any more, but he was desperate for something. Anything. Sometimes he would just squeeze Bucky’s  shoulder, or pat him on the back just to feel him. Sometimes when Bucky had a nightmare, Steve would hold him, but that was only because Bucky was scared. No joy in that touch. On rare occasions  they would hug, and if he thought about it too long, he could swear something more was there.

Lost in his thoughts, he does not realize the movie has ended until Bucky yawns, snapping him out of his head. "Hey, Stevie I think I'm going to hit the hay. You should too, we are going down to see Bruce and Pepper early tomorrow. Night, man." Steve is still staring ahead but he feels Bucky start to untangle himself from him. As Bucky stands up, Steve does not want the sensation to end, not wanting to lose the touch he desperately needs, the only silver lining of this whole ordeal. 

Without putting any thought into it, he reaches for the bottom hem of Bucky's shirt as the other man had turned to walk away. Bucky freezes as Steve hurriedly lets go of his shirt, feeling ridiculous. Steve whispers in a voice that is barely audible. "Can I sleep with you? I'm cold." He feels guilty, knowing he isn't saying the whole truth. He is cold but could have done with a pile of blankets, they aren't in the depression anymore with only one blanket each. This was 2024 and they are way better off now. But he wasn't ready to lose Bucky's touch again.

Bucky clears his throat, suddenly hard to breathe, lump forming before he can swallow it down. Steve wants to sleep with him and Bucky wants this so bad. But he has to remind himself that this is for Steve to stay warm, not because he wanted him. His love fogged mind coupled with his own self-dislike, prevented him from putting together that Steve had blankets to keep him warm. He looks back to Steve, whose face seems torn by something,  maybe guilt? Bucky didn’t want his friend to feel guilty so he finally replies. "Of course, Stevie."

Steve’s eyes light up for a moment before he reminds himself not to be so…obvious. Bucky thinks he saw something but plays it off as Steve being relieved over Bucky not making this situation any more awkward. He watches Steve smile shyly as he gets off the couch silently, ready to follow him to his bedroom, so he leads the way.

Once in there, Steve just crawls into bed like it was nothing. He figured he might as well rip the bandage off and just do it. He stays completely dressed because he really was freezing in the apartment. Bucky on the other hand was extremely warm, not used to sleeping with the heat on so high. He doesn’t know how uncomfortable Steve would be if he slept in his boxers but decides to do it anyways. It would be more suspicious of him not to. He knows Steve isn’t dumb and has to realize that he would be extremely warm in these temperatures. 

So, Bucky slides out of his sweatpants and T-shirt, throwing them into his hamper. Steve tries his hardest not to watch, turning on his side to avert his eyes. He pretends to be preparing to fall asleep, but, in reality, he is attempting to bargain with his heart to not pound right out of his chest and fly away. They haven’t slept together in more than 80 years, not since before the war. 

While Steve is busy forcing himself to pretend to try and fall asleep, Bucky sneaks a look over at the blanket, letting himself smile at the lump under the hidden beneath, blonde hair peeking out. He makes his way over to the other side of his full-sized bed and slides in under the covers. It feels like the most normal thing in the world, like things are more normal than they have been in a long time. He reaches over, turning out the light, before scooting close to Steve. Again, he reminds himself that he is just helping him stay warm. He pulls Steve’s back against his chest, wrapping his arm over his hip. For a moment, Bucky wonders if he is over doing it, if this is too far for Steve. 

Steve forgets how to breathe for a moment when he feels himself pressed against Bucky’s body so tightly. He worries he may have an asthma attack. He doesn’t remember them ever being so close, well when they were awake that is. Usually they would only get like this in their sleep. Steve remembers one particular time when he was 19, when he woke up in this position, with the still sleeping brunette’s morning wood pressed against his ass. He had to force himself out of bed and into a cold shower after that. All of this is to say that his position really did something to him, and it took all his energy to keep his breath steady. 

They lay in the dark, quietly like this for a while. For all of Steve’s worry, and all of Bucky’s self-doubt over this, both men were content. Both men lie together, keeping their secrets, but cherishing this moment. They lay for a long while before it is obvious that neither man is sleeping. It may be subtle, but it was impossible to not feel the electricity that filled the air around them and every space in between them. It was an energy that has been there for a while.  It was something that should have been obvious from the start if it weren’t for the fact that both of them were painfully oblivious. 

Steve shifts in the bed, turning so he is facing Bucky. Even in the dark, Bucky could see the light blue tones that make up Steve's eyes. He would be lying if he didn't admit they were the most beautiful things he has ever seen. He has been around the world, has seen so many beautiful things, He has seen sparkling oceans, the large majestic sweeping expanses that surrounded Wakanda, tall, purple mountains throughout Europe, but nothing he could think of could make him feel the way he felt whenever he stared into Steve's eyes.

There are some things he has never admitted to Steve about his time as the Winter Soldier. One of these things being that every so often, he was able to bust through, have a moment of clarity before frozen again. In those moments of clarity, he would think of these eyes, of being home.  Staring into Steve's eyes, whether Steve was hulking and muscular, or skinny and small, felt like home to him.

Seeing him like this, back to the way he was prior to war has reminded Bucky that beneath all the bravado and responsibility that came with Captain America, he was still Steve. His Stevie. He knew that though, but he has been so wrapped up in guilt for all Steve has done for him, as well as countless atrocities he has committed as the Winter Soldier, he had refused to think about it. Refused to get comfortable. Refused to just be with Steve, always feeling less then, undeserving. 

Steve was like the sun, bright and powerful. Bucky had always been content to be sucked into Steve’s gravitational pull. He felt like Steve was the reason he existed, giving him life. He was just a planet who was lucky enough to be pulled in by the sun. But the sun didn’t need the planet that revolved around it, and he always felt that at some level, Steve didn’t need him. He was afraid that if he tried to be more than a planet, wanting more from the sun, Steve could easily destroy him, reject him. 

But Steve has been there all along for him, never changing. Bucky had fallen all those years ago, losing his sun, ripping through space aimlessly. The sun had fought, got himself trapped in ice in the name of his planet. Waking up in the future, getting new planets, people finally seeing what Bucky had seen all along in Steve. But as soon as Steve saw that his planet was alive, he was willing to rip his new galaxy apart like it was nothing, to pull his first little planet back in. 

Steve had always loved Bucky, and Bucky had been so wrapped up in the fear of losing his sun, that he never let himself appreciate that. Maybe...maybe it was okay for Bucky to want more out of their friendship...because maybe Steve wanted more.

He doesn't know what makes him do it, but he reaches towards Steve's face, and rests his flesh hand on the golden-haired man's face. Both lay perfectly still for a few seconds before Steve closes his and lets out an anguished sigh. When they open back up, Bucky sees a tear running down Steve’s face, worry is coating his features, his brow scrunched up in a way that Bucky just wants to reach up and smooth out. In a soft voice, the brunette asks "Stevie....what is it...."

Steve closes his eyes again, taking a pained sigh as he moves his own hand softly over the hand resting on his face, doing his best to hold on for a moment longer before he comes clean. "I don't want you to hate me..."

Bucky feels his chest tensing up, not knowing what could have prompted Steve to say that. "What makes you think I could ever hate you? I don't think that is possible. " Bucky replies truthfully.

"It’s...just..." Steve takes a deep breath, before sitting up and staring down at Bucky. Bucky frowns at the loss of contact before sitting up as well, facing the blonde who looked like he might break if Bucky stared too hard. He continues, "It's just, I didn’t need you to keep me warm, Buck."

"What?" Bucky stares back, genuine  confusion on his face.

"We have plenty of blankets now, I would have been fine in my own bed. But since this happened, earlier I hated it. I hated feeling small again, weak and sickly. But...there was some good. You...you were holding onto me again, like you would when we were younger….and I missed feeling your arms around me. " Steve is blushing like crazy. "And when we were on the couch, it felt so good for you to be holding onto me, and so I lied. I didn’t want it to end...so I told you I needed you to keep me warm. I'm so sorry, Buck. You must think I'm a freak." Steve takes a deep breath, steadying himself, before pulling the covers off, readying himself to stand up. He stutters "I'm going to go to my own room now…I'd appreciate it if you never bring this up again. I am so sorry."

Bucky is confused, trying to put together what is happening. Before he could respond, Steve had shuffled out of his room, leaving him alone.

~

Steve drops onto his bed, mortified at himself. He really was pathetic, too scared to even stay and find out the fall out of what he has done. He just admitted to his best friend that he lied to him and used him all because of he wanted to be touched. He wishes he didn’t have this weird crush on him. But he does and for him it has always been Bucky, and probably will always be. It wasn't fair to push that on Bucky, though. He buries himself in blankets, dreading what the morning will bring. 

He lays there for a few minutes, mauling over what will happen. Will Bucky move out? Will he not talk to anymore? Did he just mess up everything? All the worse scenarios play in his mind like a horror movie. He feels a tear run down his face and he just lets it happen. Soon tears are covering his pillow,the dam broken, his body shaking. He feels like he will never stop, terrified he just lost his best friend.

He is so wrapped up in his own mess, he doesn't hear the door opening. But then he feels the nattress shift as someone gets inside the covers on the other side. He doesn't turn his head, afraid that he is just imagining it, that he is going to lose whatever is there if he looks. But then he hears "Hey Stevie…I'm cold."

Steve’s head is spinning, what is going on. He finally gets the nerve to turn around,  finding a beautiful brunette, his Bucky, smiling at him. "Buck….what are you doing?"

He softly replies "I just told you, I'm cold and need someone to cuddle with, is that okay?"

Steve can’t help the smile that comes to his face as the last few rebel tears fall. Something tells him that the shirtless man in front of him was in no way cold, but he plays along. "Yea, its alright. Will alway be alright…."

With that, Bucky pulls Steve into his arms, Steve’s head falling onto his chest as the other man holds him close. Both men able to fiy fall asleep.

Maybe not quite a confession yet, but its babysteps. As long as they keep moving forward,they could take their time getting there.

[lovelyirony]

"Maybe I’ll see you in another life/if this one wasn’t enough" from Florence + the Machine prompt lists, for winter13, please?

Sharon is no stranger to knowing tragedy. She sees the way Aunt Peggy’s lips curve up and fall slightly when she talks about knowing Steve Rogers. It’s a life that is not defined, not confirmed. But there was possibility. Sharon knows about possibilities. 

When she’s eighteen, she sees him. 

Winter Soldier. 

The legend that Peggy tells her about. 

“I’m not supposed to be telling you,” Peggy whispers. Sharon knows more about SHIELD than she should, but Peggy’s soft when it comes to Sharon. She knows Sharon’s destiny, knows that she needs to know more than the average recruit when she goes into the organization. 

“Be careful,” Peggy says. “The Winter Soldier isn’t a myth. He’s real. They remade a man into what they wanted, and that’s...Sharon, you know how dangerous that is.” 

She does. She knows that this person, whoever they are, will not hesitate to kill. He won’t listen to any pleas or bargains, because that’s not in his code. He will not stop, will not stray from the mission, and will not look at you--he will look through you. 

Her graduation present from her parents is a trip to Europe. She gets to visit Vienna and learn all about old history, carefully taking note of suspicious characters. Peggy has come along to tell her all about World War II and the history of it, rare smiles gracing her face as she explains a prank Sergeant Barnes pulled on the rest of the division or the time Dum-Dum messed up ordering food. 

They see him. 

Winter Soldier is not on a mission for Director Carter--or rather, former Director Carter. He’s on a mission for someone else. 

“We need to follow him,” Peggy says. “Sharon, get the car.” 

Sharon has never driven in Europe before. But she manages just fine as she nervously presses on the gas pedal and they zoom forward. Winter Soldier is chasing after someone, and someone who knows it. 

Aunt Peggy sees red hair and pauses. 

“Sharon, get out of the car. Let me drive.” 

- 

Sharon is not allowed to tell her parents that she met Black Widow, or that Peggy dented the car hood by attempting to run over the Winter Soldier. 

She also does not tell anyone about the fact that as she opened the car door for Black Widow and her charge, that Winter Soldier tore off his goggles and stared. 

That was...unsettling. His eyes were brilliant. She could tell they were a light color from a hundred feet off. 

“This your girl?” Natasha Romanoff asks Aunt Peggy. 

“Yes.” 

“I’m impressed,” she says. “Welcome to SHIELD, Sharon.” 

“I’m not inducted in yet.” 

“You might as well be, facing off the Winter Soldier,” she says with a snort. “Come on. Peggy, we need to start training.” 

Sharon starts during college. She still goes to college, although her heart is not completely in it. She finishes her classes with passing grades, gets a degree in sociology, and moves on. 

Natasha trains with her and she becomes skilled as all hell. 

She still dreams of light eyes staring through her. The dreams are more like nightmares as they get closer and closer. 

- 

She sees him again when she’s in New York helping out with protection at an undercover science delegation meeting. Some of the most influential scientists are the ones you never hear about. Sure, they have published papers, but they also have papers that never see the light of day because it would change the fabric of reality as everyone knows it. 

Winter Soldier doesn’t spare her a glance, not until she launches herself at him to knock him into an alley. 

“Stop,” she hisses. 

Sharon didn’t think this through. She most definitely is not on his skill level, and they both know it. 

“Let me go,” he says, voice almost dead. “I have a mission.” 

“So do I,” she says, “and it involves stopping someone like you.” 

“You miss the point of my existence,” he says, almost robotically. “I am not a someone. I am a something.” 

“You know the difference. Robots don’t,” Sharon says, dodging a fist that goes slamming into concrete. “Now back the hell off.” 

In all of the missions that Winter Soldier can recount, (oh yeah, they’ll let him remember the decapitation but not his own fucking birthday. Classic) most of the agents that are sent to stop him are not this bold. 

Because a.) they realize in the moment that they are outmatched and outclassed in every way that matters, and b.) they have accepted death. 

Not this girl. No, she’s young and she’s fierce but she knows...she knows something. 

This gets him distracted. 

And this allows Sharon to be able to slash a knife down his leg, and it’s not the kind of cut that allows continuation to be done. He would survive, but this is gonna slow him down. 

Begrudgingly, she has his respect. 

- 

He doesn’t tell his handlers about her. He doesn’t know why. Usually he’s fine with revealing anyone who got in his way, and usually someone catches onto the fact that he’s lying and make his brain circuits go pop. But not...not this time. 

They believe the fact that a spare part from a crashed car knicked his leg as he jumped down. They stitch him up, give him a good old brain wipe, and send him to the freezer. He’s not sure when the next year will be, if they’ll even let him out again. 

(There’s a joke about rent insurance in there somewhere.) 

-

Sharon cut the Winter Soldier. She fucking cut the guy who people said would kill you. She got away. 

This isn’t something you brag about. She could but then she’d be an asshole who everyone at the office hates. And instead of them stealing Rumlow’s lunch once a week, it’d be her. 

And she likes that Rumlow keeps bringing quality food. 

She doesn’t tell anyone. Well...Peggy doesn’t count. 

Peggy is riveted, on the edge of her seat. 

“You didn’t,” Peggy swears. “You didn’t!” 

“I did,” Sharon responds. “But I don’t know what he told whoever he works for. I could be dead, Peggy.” 

“Nonsense,” Peggy scoffs. “It’s been more than a week, correct?” 

“A month.” 

“You just told me this today?! And it’s been a month?!” 

“...I didn’t want you to worry.” 

“If you had told me the day of, I would have worried. But if they haven’t sent anyone to kill you, your little escapade is safe. Although it does make me curious...” 

They sip on tea for a while longer and laugh about Sharon’s father, who is fretting about Sharon all over again. It’s a bi-monthly occasion, very entertaining for Peggy, who knows that Sharon knows a little over a hundred ways to incapacitate someone who’s up against her. 

Sharon kisses Peggy goodbye. 

- 

Winter Soldier is woken up for another mission. 

He remembers a woman with blonde hair and a firm ask for him to “stop.” 

There’s a feeling that she’s important. There’s a feeling that Hydra doesn’t know anything about her. 

He’s sent to make sure that SHIELD is destroyed. 

Great. This is gonna go fantastically, he’s sure. 

-

Sharon really knows what’s going on. Peggy had her suspicions, and made sure that Nick Fury thought outside the box. Hell, that he thought outside the universe. She knew that SHIELD would never be pure of intention. Peggy never was, why would her organization be? Humanity isn’t either. 

She knows that Hydra is inside SHIELD and it’s looking for Captain America to be its first example. 

Do they know it’s a Wednesday? Like honestly, it’s a Wednesday. It’s two p.m. She thought she would get herself a pizza tonight, make a wine night. Wine Wednesday. It would’ve been fun. Maybe Natasha could’ve come. 

But no, Hydra decided they wanted to eliminate threats they couldn’t control so now she’s on the run from the guy the next office space from hers and has to deal with Rumlow bitching about people stealing his sandwiches. 

“Your own fault!” Sharon yells, swiping his feet from under him. “You’re also just annoying as fuck!” 

She then has to run. 

She knows that Natasha and some special agent who was in the flight division are helping Steve and maybe Maria. Probably Maria. They wouldn’t have gotten as far as they had if Maria wasn’t in on it or if she was Hydra. 

God, if Maria Hill was Hydra...

Couldn’t think about that travesty now. She has a world to save. 

- 

Steve, naturally, has been sort of a disaster. He makes it functional. She sort of wishes that she could make it functional, but she is not able to have that sort of function in her life, unfortunately. 

He’s wearing his old uniform. She doesn’t know why, just that he’s stupid. She doesn’t care how carefully the restoration workers at the Smithsonian have repaired it, she knows his levels of stupidity. 

And then he turns. 

Winter Soldier. 

Now, apparently, Bucky Barnes. 

What a kick in the goddamn head. 

She can’t even think. She doesn’t want to think, she just charges and kicks him out a window. 

Steve slams the card in, they save the world, and she’s diving after a man with a metal arm. Metal is also falling from the sky, so you could imagine the level of difficulty she is under. 

But she finds him. He’s a heavy guy as she lugs him to the shore, waiting for him to wake up. 

“Who the--?” He’s coughing out water, trying to get up. 

“I’d suggest you take a vacation,” Sharon says. “I think you have a lot of days saved up.” 

Sharon doesn’t know why she leaves him there. She really doesn’t understand why she doesn’t just say “hey, come with me,” and then he decides to join SHIELD and Steve and him can bond over not understanding music apps. 

But he needs to have time to himself, she reasons. 

“You’re insane,” Natasha says to Sharon. Steve is trying to visit Sam and hang out, so they’re doing their own thing. “You let him go?” 

“He needed to find his own life,” Sharon says. “You know Steve likes to define what he knows, and he knows Bucky Barnes. But I think Bucky Barnes isn’t really a sure thing right now. So we’ll find out.” 

“Okay.” 

“Hey. If I’m meant to have him in this life, great. If not, then that is what it is,” Sharon says. 

- 

She doesn’t know that Barnes did not hop a plane to Europe. Not yet, anyway. 

No, he’s a block away in an abandoned office building. He’s not sure what he’s doing, just that he doesn’t want to leave anything yet. 

She may hold answers. Answers that he wants. 

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (02x12)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 2 Episode 11: Far From Home

Season Finale

Warnings: dirty thoughts, a little fluff, good parenting, monsters and men. I am sorry but I am not sorry.

Word Count: I really wanna just leave everything and go live with the monks in the mountains if they allow me to take my laptop with me so I can keep writing.

A/N: Nearly forgot to mention the wonderful @marvel-lous-things for her original creativity that inspired the sam-bucky dialogue. I’ll link the original post here. I also did add some Brooklyn Nine Nine scene in there because I WANT TO AND I CAN!! I MISS B99!

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"Why do you have to be so hard?"

Peter, Javier('s camera), Wanda, Vision and you turned your heads towards a very heated Sam trying to walk out of the elevator with Bucky, their bulked up biceps fighting each other to get out of the elevator together, telling the other to go first, but going at it together, eventually looking at the other with a murderous stare. Finally, Sam rushed out before Bucky.

"It's not my fault if you cannot handle my weight," Bucky gruntled lowly, forcing you to exchange some very confused looks with Peter, Wanda and Vision. Vision was more curious than confused like the good young baby AI that he was.

"Handle your weight? Dude, do you know how hard it is to handle your ass when you keep shifting like that? Throwin' me off my rhythm."

What started as confusion now turned into the horror of knowing the unknown, forcing your eyes wide.

"Wha-" Peter tried to ask you in a whisper, but you were already covering his ears, making him look at you questioningly. "You know I'm eighteen, right?"

"I throw you off your rhythm?" Bucky jolted back slightly. "It's you who's always wiggling under me and throwing me off balance!"

"Of course I gotta wiggle, man!" Sam burst out, "you dig your fingers in me so hard! I can't just freeze there when you get rough!"

Now you were covering your ears while all Peter could whisper was, "no, you know what, cover my ears. I liked it better that way. Please. I beg you."

"I only do that because you push us too high, okay!" Bucky argued, compelling you to hide your head inside the couch. Peter just sat there frozen in shock, his eyeballs on the verge of coming out. "You clearly still have no idea how to ride because you're too used to doing it solo."

You whimpered. Peter managed to blink. Hard.

Vision was simply staring at the two of them.

Wanda went by normally shuffling the Uno cards.

"Fine, then I'll go back to solo," Sam raised his hands.

"What, no!" Bucky begged, "I like it! Please, next time I'll won't dig my fingers so hard."

"And no biting."

"It was one time! The first time! I was scared of the freaking high!"

"You bit my shoulder! I said no biting."

"Okay. Okay!"

"All right."

A shake of the hand wrapped around the other's arm sealed the deal before the party looked at the crowd sitting on the lounge floor.

"'Sup," Sam casually greeted the four of you. Bucky just simply waved.

Red . You and Peter were red from your ears to your neck.

You got up, your hands trying to find some sort of support to hold you through everything you were going inside you right now, before ultimately folding them together.

"I'm glad you guys reached a common ground," you pointed out with a forced smile that nearly made your eyes disappear, "but there's um...a bedroom for a reason. Please, think about it before...you know, you guys argue again."

Saying that, you left the lounge, whispering, "Now how the heck do I bleach my memory?"

"Wait, I'm coming with you," Peter announced, getting up and taking your hand to walk out.

"Where are you guys going?" Bucky asked.

"Dr Banner's lab," Peter stated rubbing his arms, "to find out how we can destroy brain cells?"

"But doesn't that affect other functions too?"

"It would be worth it."

Sam and Bucky exchanged a confused look before turning to the two lovers left behind.

Vision shifted his gaze between your figures disappearing behind the wall while Sam and Bucky, contemplated something before turning to Wanda. "I think they were terrified for some reason."

Wanda : Sam and Bucky were talking about their plans to fly. Well, Sam doing the flying while Bucky hangs on his back. Stark showed me the whole carrier thing he made for them. *nods* *sighs* Yeah, Y/N and Peter can't read thoughts now can they. *eyes go wide in some latent thought* That girl has such a graphic memory! She could already imagine everything within seconds. *scrunches nose* in 4K! *shudders*

The Lab

"Pass me that blue vial," Banner murmured near the glass, the camera taking his face shot from the other side of the glass- zooming out to focus on a thin glass-like structure being held by a pair of tongs right in the middle of that vacuumed glass cube.

Long white slender fingers pressed a glass vial filled with the blue liquid right to Bruce's nose, making the scientist jolt a little before looking at the bearer of the hands, sighing, and taking it in his gloved hands.

The lab goggles were adjusted again before the vial was placed in another set of tongs and introduced inside the controlled environment.

This time, behind the glass besides Bruce, Loki showed his face, looking at that thin glass strand with utmost curiosity.

"What forces are you conjuring this time, doctor?"

Bruce shushed him, concentrating on the solution.

"Alright," he got away from the cube to clear his throat, "Friday, take the exact amount right to the very last millimetre and pour the N.A.T. on the compound."

Loki was on the edge of his toes now.

Loki : It is only once in a fortnight that these excuses of humans do something partly entertaining. I wouldn't want to miss it when Banner has another mishap and morphs himself into a rabbit this time. *gazing in the distance fondly* Maybe a purple one. *smiles*

"In three, two..."

Loki was quickly shifting his gaze between the experiment and Bruce. "Oh for the sake of Valhalla! Just do it already!"

"One!"

Flashes and sparks flew the moment the liquid touched the compound, making the two cover their eyes till they were sure the blazes died.

"Experiment ninety-nine point nine-nine percent successful, Doctor Banner."

"What's that, a new floor-cleaner?" you commented, walking inside the lab with Peter.

Loki leaned in to watch the outcome of the experiment while Bruce removed his goggles and gloves, too struck by the final product to contemplate your poor jokes.

"That's..." Loki lost his words, following Bruce's hands as they carefully took out an almost translucent and seemingly delicate piece of a flower made of glass- its petals decorated with capillaries running through them, reflecting softly on their own wavelengths, dancing gracefully, twirling and shifting with the lights falling on them.

"A flower," Loki grumbled.

You and Peter, on the other hand, were gasping out loud- clearly mesmerised by the outcome.

"How did you do that Doctor Banner?!" you exclaimed, not able to contain your excitement.

"Just used the geometric structures of certain compounds to make a piece of art for me," Bruce cajoled, clearly both impressed and shocked with himself.

Loki snorted, catching your attention. "And here I was thinking you were finally making some use of that brain of yours Banner."

"Come on, Loki," you stressed, "this is practically art out of science. Appreciate it. And," you turned around to look at Bruce, wiggling your shoulders as you spoke, "I'm guessing it's for someone special."

Bruce blushed straightaway!

"Uhh..." he tried to hide behind his hands while adjusting his glasses, "It's her birthday. I-I-I asked her when's her birthday once and she told me she didn't remember her real one. Just that today is the date she thinks is her birthday. So, I thought I'd do something special for her."

"Ugh, kill me," Loki complained, stomping- very graciously, his shoulders moving with an angry swing under that dark green t-shirt he was wearing- to the other end of the lab.

You, on the other hand, squealed with utter delight, jumping where you stood. "This is fantastic, Bruce!"

"Thanks!" Bruce glowed, smiling ear to ear. "And do you know it's pretty sturdy. Almost indestructible. And at the same time really delicate."

Bruce : *twirling the flower in his hand with the most tender smile* Just like her. *smiles again* *pauses* *camera pans in his anxious face* Shit, don't tell her I said that.

The camera caught Loki still rolling his eyes at the entire conversation at the other end, bonking the little bobblehead of Hulk kept on Bruce's desk.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! I should bake her some of my molten chocolate cupcakes!"

This caught the God's attention.

"Yes," he declared out of nowhere, composing himself, "that would be a great gesture."

"Oh, but we're out of ingredients. I finished the last batch when Cassie came over," you pointed.

"Well, take one of the cars to the nearest grocery store," Bruce stated matter-of-factly.

Your lips turned into an 'o' before shaking your head. "I can't do that."

"Why not?" Bruce questioned, "I'm sure Tony won't mind."

"Won't mind what?"

The camera swerved to the lab's entrance to watch Tony saunter in.

"Taking one of your cars so she can get the ingredients to make cupcakes for Nat's birthday," Peter answered.

"For everyone," Loki added from his corner.

Tony looked at you and shrugged, "Sure. I don't mind. But I don't want even a single scratch on my cars. Otherwise, Friday can order some for you."

You stood there quiet while everyone looked for an answer.

"Yeah, I think Friday should handle that."

"Oh, come on, Tony!" Bruce huffed, "let her go if she wants to go. I'm sure nothing's gonna happen on the most desolate road in this part of the state."

"No, that's-" you tried to speak, only to be cut short by Tony.

"Okay. Not what I was going for but since you started it, the weirdest shit happens on desolate roads, Bruce!"

"Guys, listen-"

"She'll be in her car," Bruce stressed, "stopping at the grocery store, getting the stuff and coming back. Not to mention Friday'll be there looking out for her."

"Okay, doc-"

"I was talking about responsible driving and you just had to take it to another level!"

"I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE!"

Silence.

Neither of the science buddies tried to say something, shifting where they stood.

"Well, that solves everything," Loki's words echoed through the air of embarrassment.

The Driveway

"You really don't have to do this."

The camera captured your very concerned face before panning out to show Tony and Loki standing on your either side while Peter sat by the side with his sunglasses on, sipping on some orange soda through a crazy straw.

Peter : *glasses on as he finishes sipping through his crazy straw* *a good wind playing with his hair* Oh, I know how it's gonna go down. *turns his head to the sound of the engine getting louder* Better than a Formula One.

Thank you, Friday," Tony announced as a black SUV comes and stands in the driveway right next to you. He stepped towards it, clicking open the door and gesturing you to move, "In you go."

But you didn't budge. "Yeah, I don't think so." Shaking your head vigorously.

"Why not?" Tony asked point-blank.

"Uh..." you hesitated, taking the corners of your jacket in your fingers and wringing them, "I...I don't think I'm made for driving."

"Everyone is made for everything. What everyone lacks is practice."

Sounds of clapping broke just as Tony concluded, making everyone turn to watch Loki and Peter applauding his words.

"Not bad, Stark," Loki applauded over the soft wind flapping your hair everywhere.

"But-"

"We're just trying something new here, kid," Tony pointed out, shifting the door wider.

You looked at him and then at the car, your fingers nearly ripping the fabric of your jacket apart before a breath of 'ah, screw it’ left your lips and you climbed in."

Tony put on his glasses and moved to the other side, all the while looking at Peter, "there better not be any crumbs and sticky soda on my driveway."

Peter gave him a thumbs-up as continued munching happily on the chips.

The camera now shifted to the dashboard, catching a good angle of the car's inside from the front.

Tony sat in the passenger seat and shut his door the same time Loki sat in the back and shut his.

"Alright then, let's begi-" he began, before stopping short on catching Loki in the back- leaning forward to hear what all Tony had to say, "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know how to drive your modest transport, either," he simply stated.

Tony opened his mouth to say something snarky but you beat him to it.

"Oh, thank God! It sucks being the only adult in the room who does not know how to drive."

Tony looked at you for a moment before settling in his seat. "You can stay but I don't want to hear a peep out of you. Okay, you" he pointed at you with his eyes, "seatbelt."

You quickly let your hands go to your side to bring down the seatbelt and secure it down at the other end. "Now," Tony continued, "look down at the pedals. From your right- gas, brake, clutch. The Gas pedals move the car, the brake will slow it down and bring it to a stop and the clutch will help you shift gears when the speed changes. When the speed goes high on this meter, the gear goes high, When it goes low, we go low. Okay? Try moving the gear and see if it's comfortable. Yes, just like that. Good. See that button with the start/stop sign? Push it when you want to start the car. Yes, you can start it in neutral as well. Once you start the engine you put the gear in drive while pressing down on the clutch. Okay? Wanna try it?"

Your breaths were a little shallow by now. "You sure?" you nearly whimpered.

"Yes, I am. It's okay. I am sitting right here," Tony comforted you.

You looked down at the pedals while your hands gripped hard on the wheels. Taking in one deep breath, you pressed the button and felt the car vibrate a little but never heard the roar of the engine. "Is it broken? I don't think it started-"

"It has a quiet engine," Tony blurted out to stop you from hitting the button again and again.

Making an apologetic face, you wiggled in your seat, straightened your back, checked the mirrors for no reason at all and took another deep breath. "Okay, now I press the clutch and change the gear?"

Tony nodded.

All this time Loki rested his hand in his palm, slowly getting tired of the instructions.

Pressing the clutch, you shifted the gear in drive.

"Perfect," Tony praised you, "now let go of the clutch slowly as you lightly put your foot on the gas."

With excitement in your eyes, you nodded and let go of the pedal. And just as you did, the car jerked, throwing Loki ahead.

"I'm so sorry!" you shouted, in Tony and Loki's direction.

"And this is why you wear a seatbelt," Tony followed with a chuckle, looking at the grunting figure of Loki trying to sit back up.

.

The Driveway

"Yo," Sam greeted Peter as he came out with Bucky, "got kicked out of the house?"

Peter shook his head, slurping his soda, never shifting in his seat that he was clearly well-adjusted in. "Watching Mr Stark teach Y/N how to drive."

Both Sam and Bucky looked at the SUV in the distance jerking and moving before coming to a stop, starting, jerking and moving ahead, suddenly picking up speed, suddenly screeching to a halt before the whole cycle started again.

"Huh."

Peter pointed to his left without looking. "There are chairs in there."

.

Half an Hour Later

"What're you guys doing in the driveway?"

Peter, Sam and Bucky- all three of them flinched hard at Natasha's voice coming from right next to them.

Bucky : She is sneaky. I don't like sneaky.

*camera pans out to show Sam standing behind Bucky with a plushie, throwing it suddenly from Bucky's left*

Bucky : *immediately tilts to the other side while taking out a knife from nowhere to stab the plushie*

Sam : We talked about this! Assess the f****ng target before going 'stab'! *continues in his angry voice* Congratulations! You just killed a plushie!

"Watching Tony teach Y/N how to drive."

Behind Natasha came the huffing figure of Scott carrying bags on bags in both his hands. They looked at the amount he was carrying compared to the bulk in Natasha's hand.

"No wonder you always keep beating me in training!" Scott huffed and tried to breathe through his words. He dropped the bags and let his body go floomf over them. "You're sooo strong," he heaved, "make me like you, senpai ."

"Get off the bags," she stressed, "you'll break the nachos," before turning to the trio with a stern stare, "you fellas really don't have anything to do?"

"We're supporting Y/N," Peter answered, pointing at the car nearly missing the pavement and skidding while making a turn.

But Nat didn't buy it. "What's the bet for?" She finally asked, forcing the trio to look at each other.

"How much time it takes for Tony to lose his cool," Sam admitted, "I'm going for twenty more minutes. Bucky says Tony's already lost his cool. He's just sitting in there crying. Peter thinks he'll last another hour."

The car turned and came towards where all of them sat. Nat took one step back as the vehicle skidded to a halt right next to Peter, the bumper giving him a little bonk on his knees.

The camera shifted to inside the car with three horrified faces trying to find their breaths.

"I told you," you tried but no voice came out of your throat, "I...told...you."

"Okay," Tony breathed, gulping down the horror but still having his hand wrapped around the grab-handle as tightly as humanly possible, "okay. Um...Loki," he announced, "your...turn?"

.

"You bitch," you hissed, "you said you didn't know how to drive!"

The car swerved by the audience effortlessly as they hooted, whistled and cheered.

Loki veered the steering wheel with such professionalism that you cursed him again.

"I swear I didn't!" Loki chuckled with excitement, "this is just so easy and fun!"

"Eyes on the road, Greeny," Tony ordered, but his eyes too were lit and he clearly wasn't holding the handles now, "now show me how you go through those two bars and then back it up."

Loki did what Tony asked, swerving smoothly through the bars, breaking without throwing anyone in the window and, reversing just as smoothly through them.

"Woah!" Tony heard himself saying, "okay now show me that thing Lighting McQueen does in 'Cars'."

Loki scrunched his nose. "The movie we saw last night?"

"Yup!"

"Brace yourselves!"

And saying that, he hit the gas and showed the crowd how to turn right to go left, making Peter and Tony lose their minds in their rush, while Sam landed a 'hot damn!', Bucky and Scott had their jaws dropped. Natasha was the only one not really phased by it.

Natasha : *nonchalantly* He can drive. *does a little head tilt* Good for him.

The vehicle came to a halt near the entrance and you were the first one to get out.

"Hey, Y/N, you did good!" Sam and Nat tried to cheer you up.

"Yeah," was all you said before turning to walk back in.

"Y/N, kid," Tony called out for you, "come on let's give it another shot."

"No, Mr Stark. I think I'm done for the day."

"But we didn't even go about for even an hour. Let's work on your gear shifting without looking at them."

"I don't think that'll hel-"

"We won't know until we try. Come on let's take anoth-"

"I can't!" You nearly shouted, taking everyone by surprise. "I can't Mr Stark! Driving requires me to focus on everything at once and I made not for that! I get distracted so easily. I can't even drive safely on an empty road inside my own home what makes you think I could possibly handle an entire vehicle on a busy road?! And believe me when I say I've been told time and again to change this 'habit' of mine. Well, I can't." You shrugged forcefully. "I really can't. That's how I freakin' am. So, sorry you have to deal with a f****d up kid like me."

Ending that, you walked inside, leaving everyone mum- discreetly looking at Tony before walking back in. Everyone except Loki.

Tony looked at the God, giving him a once-over. "The hell you looking at me like that?"

Loki just crossed his arms across his chest, shaking his head, "She can't drive. She clearly doesn't have the confidence and would have to take a lot to create the natural focus required. Just wondering what you're going to do now."

Tony furrowed his brows at Loki. "What d'ya mean what I'll do? I'll find a way to help with whatever's required. It's not her fault she can't focus or is easily distracted. I'll find something to help her with that too."

Loki : *looking at an invisible void in the distance* huh. I cannot believe I'm saying this but Stark one hell of a father figure. *Pouring his lips* *scrunching his nose* Is that why all these wayward nuisance of beings choose to live with him? *Looks behind the camera* What? I don't see him as a father figure. All I see him is as a bother figure. Always bothering me any chance he gets.

*camera pans out to show Tony standing beside him leaning on the car*

Tony : Would you like me to take you horse-riding?

Loki :

Tony : *arches his brow and places his head on his fist, watching Loki tenderly*

Loki : *not making eye-contact* *softly* that would be great. Thank you

Tony : *pats him the back and leaves* Good job today.

Loki : *closes eyes* *shakes his head* *moans* Yeah, I already feel weird.

.

The Dorms

Tony lightly knocked your door before clicking open a bit and asking if he could come in.

The camera tried to follow him but Tony closed the door behind it, forcing it to go out to the balcony.

He sat down on the edge of your bed looking at the half-finished sketch of a woman.

"You made this?" He turned to ask your figure lying on your stomach with your head towards the footboard.

You nodded.

"Wow!" He whispered with enthusiasm before his eyes caught something in the corner by the window. "Is that a canvas? You've been painting. On a canvas!"

You shrugged. "It's not that hard. Anyways I'm not that good."

"Why do you think that?" He asked as softly as possible. "Have you seen what you create? This is beautiful!"

"This is half-finished."

"Well, it's better than not being created at all!"

You blinked, and a lone tear left your eye to directly vanish in the sheets under you.

"I'm scared," your broken voice declared in a whisper.

"Of what?"

"Of not being able to drive safely. I can hardly focus on what gear to shift while having to quickly judge what pedal to hit. How am I ever supposed to drive when all my senses aren't in the car with me?"

"Hey," he stressed softly, brushing your hair away, "we'll figure it out. And it was just the first day. You already learned which gears are what. And you were really nailing those brakes."

You both giggled.

"There's nothing you cannot do," Tony assured you, his eyes giving you a soft yet stern look, "now stop beating yourself up, get out of these stinky bedsheets and go make sure Peter and Bucky don't burn up my kitchen to figure out your cupcake recipe."

You chortled and Tony looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world right now.

"Wow," Loki's voice came from the opposite corner of the room where he stood with arms crossed ever so casually, "you two really are boring. And cringy."

Tony and you gasped and threw a pillow each at him.

"Get out!" You both said in unison.

.

The Lounge

"You are such a sore loser."

You tilted your head and arched your brows at Loki.

"It wasn't a competition, Loki."

He simply shrugged and popped a grape in his mouth. "Something a loser would say."

"Whatever, man," you muttered, shooing him away as you went towards a very confused Peter hanging down from the ceiling to find out what Bucky was trying to cook.

"Wait." You heard Loki say after you felt a soothing coolness grab your hand lightly, making you turn back to him.

"Hmm?"

"There's-" he looked around to see if anyone was listening- clearly ignoring the camera- before coming back to you, "a thing. I need to learn how to paint. I've heard you're a really good artist. And clearly, I'm not. So, would you help me?"

You : This guy *a smirk lies at the corner of your lips* has the weirdest ways of saying 'I'm sorry, Y/N. I wish I could make your day better'. *nods* *raises shoulders* *bites lips* usually he does.

"Hmm," you pretended to think, "I don't know. Let me just show off my artist skills around a little bit and then I'll start teaching you."

"Oh, you think I'm-I'm trying to make you feel better? Don't make false assumptions, woman!"

"Din meek fils issimtion wimin," you teased him with your scrunched nose, right before Tony walked through the two of you.

"Five-second rule," he announced as your hands parted for Tony to go ahead and he slipped something over Loki's wrist.

"What's this?" Loki looked at the green bracelet that clicked shut over his wrist and did not come undone no matter what he tried.

"Just something to stop you from jumping in rooms unannounced," Tony responded, waving at him as he went away with a happy gait.

"Y/N," Natasha called out from the kitchenette, "you better take over before these boys make something everyone's gonna regret. And no one eats it before midnight!"

“Stark, get me out of this!”

.

Outside The Library

You walked with the camera following you out of the library, running right into Loki.

"Hey, have you seen Mr Stark?"

"No," Loki shook his head, "I rarely look at things I find unappealing."

"I made something for Nat, but I want his opinion on it. Come on," you pressed, taking his hand and pushing him away from the library and towards the lab.

"Stark's opinion? I'm sure Gordon Ramsay would be a better choice than him."

"I'm surprised you know who that is."

"Of course, I know who that is. Everyone fears him. I respect that. And he seems to have a cult!"

You sighed and turned the corner. "He has followers, not a cult. Like fans."

"What's the difference?"

"W-" and you found yourself short of an explanation, glad you were already by the lab's doors.

"Let's just concentrate on you making friends first, okay," you said in your best sarcastic tone, swinging open the door to watch Tony in the middle of the lab, going for the very familiar Pandora's box. The thing similar to the one that had teleported you to another planet.

Everything happened at once in front of the camera.

"DAD, NO!"

The small bag you'd been carrying in your hand fell down on the ground as you ran towards Tony. A shriek left your lungs as you forced him away from the familiar light that came out of the box. Loki was already trying to shield Javier behind the camera while trying to get you away from the path. Tony was not aware of what was happening until he was touching the floor.

And the next second everything disappeared.

The cameras in the lab caught Tony on the ground trying to get up, looking for you.

"Y/N?" He shouted out for you.

"Loki!" He commanded, getting up- not so gracefully- on his feet.

"Javier!" He begged, only to see Bruce, Natasha and Peter rush in from the doors.

"They're gone, Mr Stark," Friday's voice echoed through the silence of the lab, as the man tried to count his breaths while the others rushed to help him.

.

Unknown Place

The camera was blurry. A few sounds came from a distance before the lens shook and was wiped off where it lay- in the desert. It focused on two figures lying just a few feet away.

Javier's figure came in front as he tried to shake up one of them. And just as he did, Loki stirred, grunted and got up with a little difficulty.

Javier tapped his shoulder to get his attention away from his strange surroundings to your unconscious figure lying next to him.

"Y/N," he called out for you tenderly, his eyes scanning for any wounds on your arms or face. "Y/N, wake up," he gently tapped your cheeks and arms. "Y/N," he mildly shook you in vain.

"Y/N STARK!!" he shouted, giving you a good shake, making you get up with a scream.

"What the hell, Loki?!!"

"Come on," he commanded more than requested, taking your arms and helping you stand up.

"W-where are we?"

Javier went out of the frame and the camera was lifted up from the ground to show the barren land you and Loki were looking out to. Shades of yellow went till the horizon with curled up black tree-like structures at various intervals.

"I don't know," Loki sighed, his eyes taking in everything.

You turned around, the camera catching you walk over the rough ground outside the frame. "It's certainly not Earth. I haven't been to this...place before. We must stay close. Javier, do not leave my sight."

"Uhh...Loki?"

"Of course, you too, Y/N."

"No, Loki," you continued, the camera catching your concerned gaze as your hand pointed at something, "look."

The camera turned to face down the little hill that you three stood on to capture a battalion of aliens standing in prime formation at attention. Scales of iridescent gold and brown marked the skin on their shoulders and limbs, claws for hands and feet and a wolf-like face covered in warrior helmets.

"Yeah, suddenly I've started appreciating that old planet-thing I was trapped on," you mentioned, your voice breaking with fear. "You can teleport us back, right?"

"Ye-"

Both you and the camera turned to look at Loki, who was looking down at the amulet on his wrist.

"Stark," he sighed.

"Shit," you cursed, "sorry."

A blowhorn sounded down the hills throughout the valley, making you jump close to Loki, catching the fabric of his Henley from the elbow with your fingers.

"Okay, I've seen The Lord of The Rings enough times to know this is not good!" You nearly shouted with fear.

And just as you uttered those words, the clanking of armour sounded close to you, coming up the hill.

Three of those alien warriors came up, their march quite in unison as the taller, bulkier one walked ahead of the two who seemed to be accompanying him.

The camera stepped farther away as the creatures stepped closer while you tried to be brave yet took a step back so as to let Loki shadow you partially.

The stomps of threatening footsteps stopped nearly seven feet away from you. The stench of something eerie filled the air.

The two aliens at the back stabbed the ground with their metallic staffs, creating a gust of wind along with an incoherent vibrating echo.

The leader stepped forward towards you three, his gait slow and measured, his eyes shining a concentrated mix of purple. You shifted on your feet. Loki didn't.

He stopped right in front of Loki, standing at least two feet taller than him.

"Loki," came a low-pitched growl from the jaw that opened to reveal more fangs inside, "ward of Odin. Son of Laufey. Saviour of Asgard-"

"You could save the titles. It'll take you an entire day to get over half of them," Loki declared without skipping a beat.

The creature paused before taking out his sword from its sheath, making you step back.

"Loki, master of the Nubrath!" The leader spoke again, this time while holding his sword in both his...claws and raising it to the God. "Your army is ready."

The blowhorn sounded again.

"We're all prepared to take over the earth under your rule."

~End of Season 2~

You’ll get season 3 if you curse me with the balance of work and home to get me as many hours to write as possible. Bonus if you get me my dream job. No, I won’t tell you, you have to figure it out on your own.

[thesoundofnat]

Intertwined

Tony/Steve/Bucky

Summary: “Steve, I don’t mean to alarm you, but I think Bucky is trying to seduce me.”

(Or, Steve and Tony are a thing and then Bucky comes back and ruins it and settles down with Steve and starts... flirting with Tony too?)

A/N: I literally wrote this whole thing for the last scene. A bit of Civil War discourse and how I hope things go down after Endgame (aka everyone lives). Nothing super graphic, but the sexual tension is, well, rather high. I’m truly hitting every trope here. Quite a bit of angst in the first half.

Thank you to @pattrochillles for reading through the unfinished thing and coming up with ways to make it better!

Words: 4k

It was funny. One moment you were getting so close to a guy that you almost considered this a pre-dating, pre-fucking sort of skirting around the subject kind of flirting. The next his old boyfriend or whatever came back from the past and ripped the two of you apart.

Tony didn’t find it funny, though. Not even close.

“He’s my friend.”

“So was I.”

Steve had known Tony was so much more than a friend, once, but it hadn’t been that simple. And apparently reminding him of their bond hadn’t been enough anyway, so Tony was definitely relieved no proper feelings had been brought into the mix.

Truly, no feelings at all, if Steve’s behavior was any indication.

The thing was, no one talked about the time after something big had gone down, whether it had been good or bad. No one talked about how you walked around, weary, restless, unsure of how to act. Of what to do. How all those emotions that had surged through you had left you exhausted. Drained.

Tony fled. He had no other word for it. Went into hiding on an island no one else had access to and licked his not so hypothetical wounds for a while. Only contacting Rhodey and Pepper to tell them he was alive, still.

And then they needed him back. Quite literally gave him no choice but to return since the world was about to go to shit. Again.

Tony didn’t get a chance to talk to Steve before ending up in space - stranded, having watched almost everyone turn to dust - and as he lay there slowly dying his mind kept telling him that maybe things would’ve been different if he’d only been on Steve’s side.

Which was illogical. Neither of them could have calculated this.

But still.

After they’d defeated Thanos and put everything back in its place and Tony was back on Earth, avoiding anyone became so much trickier, since no one was allowing him to escape this time.

Literally no one was letting anyone out of their sight.

When you were faced with whatever the hell Tony was faced with, you became an expert on never being alone with the person you’d rather run away from. It was quite useful and so fucking obvious.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if the two of you kissed and made up?” Natasha asked him one day, her words having come with no prelude and probably no interlude.

Tony shifted his weight. “What difference would it make? What’s done is done.”

“So stop avoiding him. Both of them. Shake hands and move on, if you don’t think it matters.”

She knew it mattered to him. She knew how much it had hurt him. But she wouldn’t let him act as if everything was all peachy without a challenge. Tony both love and hated her for it.

Tony wasn’t the one who approached them first, though. Apparently Natasha was less patient when it came to the team and had talked to Steve too, or so he assumed.

“Do you think we’re too stubborn for our own good?” was his opening line. Tony hadn’t expected him to beg on his knees for forgiveness, but he really hadn’t expected him to be so blunt about it all either.

Tony crossed his arms, leaning his hip against the kitchen counter. “Depends on the situation.”

“You know what situation I mean.”

“Maybe you should specify.”

Steve winced. Not visibly, but Tony knew his signs. Knew he wished Tony would just accept his words and move on by the way he slumped his shoulders.

Well, too bad, Rogers.

They stared at each other in silence, Steve not having entered the room fully, as if afraid. Tony terrified to move. Still not sure how to act around the man that had once meant so much to him.

Still did, really.

“I realize I might not have acted in the most rational way,” Steve finally said. Not an apology, but a start.

“You don’t regret it,” Tony added, saying what he wasn’t.

“I regret hurting you.”

“But? It was worth it, right? You’d do it again?”

Steve was biting his lower lip, a nervous tic. Looking seconds away from running away. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, I didn’t want to get stranded in space, but you know what? I couldn’t control it.”

“Tony.”

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear what you have to say.” He pushed himself away from the counter, wishing he was taller. “Nat said we should shake hands and move on.” Kiss and make up. “Can we just do that?”

“You won’t let me explain?”

“No need. I get why you did what you did.”

“You do?”

“Sure. I just wish you hadn’t.” He held out his hand. “Truce?”

Steve regarded him. “Only if it’s for good.”

“That’s up to you, dollface.” He had no fucking idea why he’d just called him that, but sure. Subtle. Fantastic.

Steve took his hands. They didn’t shake. “I really am sorry, you know.”

“Oh, was that an apology?” Tony felt himself soften. “So am I. Whatever. Let’s never talk about this again.”

He let go, shouldered his way past Steve out of the room, and suddenly things felt a little lighter. Not better. Not easier. Just lighter.

The rest needed time.

*

“I’m assuming the two of you are on good terms again,” Rhodey mumbled, eyebrows raised as Tony downed the glass of water Steve had randomly brought him.

Tony twirled the glass in his hands. “He can hear you, you know. Super hearing.”

“I don’t really care.”

“Yes. We are. It’s- well, slow. But we’re working on it.”

“Good.”

“Is it?”

“Like you said. Super hearing.”

Tony snorted. “It’s all right. We’re all right.”

“So have you talked to him?”

It took Tony a moment to realize he didn’t mean Steve. “No.”

“Are you going to?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Tones. You know none of this was his fault.”

“Still not too keen on looking my parents’ killer in the eyes, however little control he might’ve had.”

“I get that, but-”

“Look, I- I know he didn’t- it wasn’t-”

“Breathe, Tony.”

“I just can’t look at the person he chose over me right now.”

Rhodey was nodding. “Okay.”

Steve had heard him. Of course he had. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe it would keep him from making the stupid decision to properly introduce them.

Only Barnes apparently had a mind of his own this time around. Funny how that worked.

*

They held their first proper conversation in Tony’s lab, Bucky having wandered down there without letting him know first, metal arm malfunctioning.

“They say you’re the man to go to for this,” he said, his voice so fucking uncertain Tony felt himself unable to react at first.

“Sure am,” he finally said. “Have a seat. What’s the problem?”

Bucky moved quickly, seating himself within seconds before him. “It’s just… well, not obeying me like it should be.”

Tony hummed, reaching for a screwdriver. “Elaborate.”

“If I go to grab something it might take me a few tries before I’m able to.”

“Got it.”

“You can fix it?”

“Of course. Won’t take too long either.”

“Will it hurt?”

A question so simple and juvenile that Tony had to look at him again. A man that had been through hell and back was worried about this hurting. It… well, Tony wasn’t sure what he was to label his emotions as, but he felt close to tears.

“No,” he said, voice lower than before. “You won’t feel a thing.”

Bucky was chewing on his cheek as Tony set to work. Tony only knew because he had to stop and look at him every other minute or so to make sure it was still okay. To make sure he wasn’t adding to what had already been more than the guy had probably bargained for.

“You’re good at this,” Bucky said after a while. “I mean, I assume. I wouldn’t know.”

Tony huffed out a laugh. “No, you’re right. A whole life of practicing does that to you.”

“Humble.”

“A realist.”

“I’m not sure why they’ve all painted you in such a deceiving light,” Bucky said, moving his fingers when Tony indicated it.

“What do they say?” he asked, even though he knew.

“That you’re conceited.”

“I can be.”

“I think it’s a persona.”

“You do, huh.”

“I know enough about you to know it’s not always easy being Tony Stark.”

“I don’t think it’s so easy being Bucky Barnes either.” He put the screwdriver down. “I guess they got us both wrong.”

Tony really hadn’t expected a strange friendship to form after that night, but he had a quite big record of getting close to the entirely wrong people.

This time it was mostly because he really couldn’t avoid either of them and instead had to watch them fall deeper and deeper in love. A love they probably had never fallen out of. Cool. Not heartbreaking at all.

“You wanna watch a movie with us?”

Tony looked up from his pad, half-empty plate sitting forgotten beside him. “Hmm?”

“Movie. With us. Me and Buck, that is. You in?”

“It depends on the movie, dollface.”

Tony had kept the nickname. Mostly as a joke, but he liked the way Steve’s lips twitched whenever he used it. Maybe he’d use it in front of Bucky one day purely to see his reaction. Maybe he needed a nickname of his own.

Steve grabbed his wrist. “Don’t make me force you.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Will you drag me to the living room?”

“I might carry you.”

“Prove it.”

Tony hadn’t expected him to actually do it, but seconds later he was hanging over the giant’s shoulder, laughing despite himself. Not even able to fake indignation as they journeyed through the rooms.

“He challenged me,” Steve said, and Tony could hear Bucky laugh. “I had to.”

“Maybe you should put him down.”

Tony poked Steve’s shoulder blade. “Yeah, dollface. Put me down.”

“Make me.”

“The blood is going to my head and to be frank I kinda need my brain to be functioning.”

“Not for the movie Steve picked out.”

“Wow. Ganging up on me? Really?”

“Oh no. What movie did you pick?”

“It seems good!”

“It seems horrible.”

Steve dumped Tony on the couch, finally, but mostly to go bicker about the movie with Bucky like an old married couple. Tony wondered if they’d miss him if he left.

“Tony, tell him it’s good.”

Tony glanced at the screen. “I couldn’t say. I haven’t seen it.”

“As good a time to watch it now as ever.”

Tony could picture it. Steve and Bucky sitting side by side, Tony discarded somewhere all on his own. The two of them talking throughout the entire movie and not letting Tony join. Him suffering for two hours purely to appease Steve’s sudden need to hang out.

But they put him in the middle and talked to him too. It was kind of sad how surprised he was by the whole thing.

“I might not know much about acting,” Bucky said, arm and hip and thigh touching Tony’s. “But I would say the acting is awful. Well done, Steve.”

Steve reached over him to give Bucky’s abdomen a slap. “Don’t be a movie snob.”

“Don’t need to be to recognize a lack of talent.”

“Have you guys seen The Room?” Tony asked, not look at either of them. “It’s fucking awful. The script. The acting. All of it. And yet it’s a cult film and loved by many.” He slid down the couch a bit. “Things don’t need to be good to be considered classics.”

Bucky bumped his shoulder into him. “Can we watch it next?”

“Don’t get mad if you don’t like it. I think it’s a movie you appreciate after the experience is over.”

He was so utterly aware of how close they were. Of how good Steve smelled and how badly he wanted to pull him closer. It was strange, though. In his current fantasy they weren’t alone.

They watched the next half hour in silence.

“Is this a common thing?” Bucky asked when, seemingly out of nowhere, the main couple slept with their mutual friend, the three of them doing such a poor job of moaning and grinding and distracting Tony so much he almost didn’t realize Bucky was speaking to him.

“It’s not uncommon,” Tony said. “But I don’t think it happens super often. Usually the protocol is to not sleep with someone either of you know unless you want jealousy to get involved.”

Bucky hummed. “So they’re being stupid.”

“Statistically? Yep.”

“Emotionally?” That was Steve.

Tony shrugged. “Depends.”

“On?”

“If they can work it out afterward.”

*

It was subtle, but Tony was about 99% certain Steve and Bucky were flirting with him. Sometimes separately, which was a whole thing in itself, but mostly together, and he fucking hated them for messing with his head.

He hated himself more for liking it so much.

A comment from Steve sent him back to the era before Bucky was in their lives, and it took Tony a moment to process the fact that these comments shouldn’t be happening anymore.

“What did you say?” he asked, confused. Sure he’d misheard.

Repeating the flirty comment was awkward for both of them, though Tony didn’t mind the timid look that crossed Steve’s face, and at least he knew he hadn’t made it all up.

But.

What the fuck.

They weren’t supposed to be doing that anymore.

He watched them make breakfast together, moving around each other and handing cups and grabbing bowls and being so disgustingly domestic that Tony wanted to strangle them both. It could partly be because he’d only taken one sip of his coffee so far and they both looked too happy for the hour.

It could very well be for entirely different reasons too.

“You want breakfast, Tony?”

He twirled the cup in his hand. “No thanks.”

“Come on, you have to eat.”

Bucky was more of a mother bear than Steve. It was astounding. “I’ll live.”

He tilted his head at him, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “All right, grump.”

Tony snorted. “Now you need your own nickname. Is Bucky Bear all right? Or do you want something pretty like Steve’s dollface?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Honestly, in this uncaffeinated state? Neither do I.”

“Breakfast it is then,” Bucky decided, setting a bowl of cereal down before him a moment later. “Can’t have you talking nonsense, sugar.”

Sugar. Jesus.

Steve had been silent throughout their entire interaction. Tony refused to look at him.

Bucky grabbed his shoulder, kneading it once. “Eat. You’ll feel more human.”

Tony hummed. “If you say so.”

Bucky pressed his thumb into his skin again. “You’re tense.”

“Life of a mechanic.”

“Someone should take care of that for you.”

Tony gave himself three seconds to change his mind before saying, “Is that an offer?”

“Maybe. Steve’s much better at it than me though.”

Somehow it didn’t feel like a reminder that Bucky was taken. Somehow, it felt like an arrangement.

Tony looked at Steve, finally. “Is that so?”

The emergency alarm started blaring before Steve got to reply. Because of course.

*

“You know it’s extremely obvious that you’re observing them, right?”

Tony glanced up at Nat. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“You seemed busy.”

“Are you a spy or something.”

She sat next to him on the couch. “Something like that.”

They both watched Steve and Bucky for a moment; the late evening sun giving them a golden tint where they were sitting by the window. Tony wished he could hear what they were talking about, but this was the closest he could get without being overly apparent about it. Not that it mattered. Natasha had him all figured out.

“It’s complicated,” she said, voice so low Tony wasn’t sure she was talking to him.

“Complicated.”

“Everything is.”

“It wasn’t before.”

Nat tilted her head at him, a silent urge to elaborate.

“It used to be as easy as breathing.”

“You’ve done a whole lot to ensure you can breathe easily again, Stark.”

He turned back to them. “My point exactly.”

“What’s your deal, then?” she asked, hand on his arm out of nowhere. “With them, I mean.”

“Them?”

“I can tell it’s not just about Steve anymore.”

“Well, I didn’t have a choice in that, did I?”

“You have a choice in how to proceed.”

“Not with them.”

“They’ve practically wrapped the choice in a bow and handed it to you.”

Tony pointed at her. “This weird metaphorical talk doesn’t work, Romanoff.”

“With you? Yes, it does.”

“Why with me?”

“Because it’s the only way to get you to actually talk about it.”

That woman. Making him both love and hate her with a passion after every interaction.

*

Bucky was handsome. Tony couldn’t pretend he’d just noticed, but it was the first time it made him ache for something more from those lips. A smile just for him, and then some. It was confusing to say the least.

“They look good together,” he told Rhodey one day. “They’d have pretty babies.”

“Am I supposed to acknowledge what you just said?”

“Nah.”

“Okay.”

Tony finished his coffee. “Just putting it out there.”

“Pretty babies, huh?”

It had been hours since he’d said that, but Tony knew exactly what Bucky was talking about. “Am I wrong?”

“Scientifically speaking?”

“Don’t science a scientist, Barnes.”

Bucky laughed. A lovely sound. “Just wanted to make sure I heard correctly,” he said, hand very deliberately brushing against Tony’s knuckles.

“Fuck your stupid superhearing.”

“Hey now. I can think of much better ways to utilize that term.”

Tony honest to god stumbled over his words after that. Bucky’s smirk was ingrained in his brain. His words affecting entirely different parts.

*

“Steve, I don’t mean to alarm you, but I think Bucky is trying to seduce me.”

Tony was three days into his sleepless isolation disguised as being productive in the lab when those words left his mouth without his permission.

Steve, looking fully awake despite the fact that Tony had run into him in the early hours of the morning when everyone else was still asleep, raised an eyebrow at him. He didn’t even seem surprised. “In what way?”

Tony shook his head. “He’s just being so- touchy feely, I guess. And saying things I cannot interpret in any other way, but maybe I’m just horny and self centered.”

Steve snorted, his face coloring in a way Tony adored. “Jesus, Tony. Blunt much.”

“Sorry, I forgot I’m speaking to a purist.”

“I’m far from a purist.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“You could.”

Tony blinked. “I need you to not speak in riddles, Rogers. Especially now. My mind’s not at its strongest.”

Steve grabbed his wrist and Tony almost had a heart attack until he said, “Time for bed. You might look good in many things, but delirious exhaustion isn’t one of them.”

Tony put his free hand on Steve’s chest. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you’re flirting with me.”

“Go to bed, Tony.”

“Will you join?”

“Not right now.”

“Shame. You look good after your morning run. All sweaty and almost flushed.”

“Bed. Now.”

Maybe that was for the best, because Tony regretted the whole interaction the moment he woke up that afternoon.

Those two would be the death of him.

“Feeling better?” Steve asked when he walked into the kitchen to find him and Bucky cooking dinner.

“Did everyone else move out of the tower without telling me?” was Tony’s reply. “Because wherever I turn I only see you two. In a literal sense.”

“As opposed to what?” Bucky asked, something dancing in his eyes that made Tony more flustered than he was prepared for.

“Nothing. Shut up.”

“You nervous, Stark?”

“Leave him alone, Buck. He told me he thinks you’re trying to seduce him.”

“So what if I am?”

“I wouldn’t be able to allow you to do that without me.”

“No one’s stopping you from joining, dollface.”

Steve grinned at Tony. “He stole your nickname for me.”

“What are you gonna do about it, sugar?”

Tony was absolutely certain he was still dreaming. “Excuse me,” he said, turned his back to them and left.

*

They found him in the absolute worst situation he’d ever been in. After rushing down to his lab again, Tony had decided to jump into the task he’d been putting off for days now purely to distract himself, and thus he’d ended up entirely intertwined with the cables he’d been trying to untangle. He honestly didn’t even know how.

Of all the days he’d decided to not use his suit to do something.

They entered after he’d been hanging there for about ten minutes, making the situation worse and worse the more he tried to get loose. They crouched down to get to his level, neither of them speaking for a moment.

Tony finally said, “This doesn’t leave this room.”

Bucky grabbed one of the cords. “How the hell did you end up like this, sugar?”

“Don’t ask. A little help would be nice, though, as much as it hurts my pride to ask.”

Steve and Bucky exchanged glances. “Actually,” Steve started. “I think this is the best time for us to talk about a few things without you running off.”

“You have a tendency to avoid topics that make you uncomfortable,” Bucky added. “Though I reckon we haven’t been entirely outspoken about this either until recently.”

Tony pulled at his trapped arms. “I really wanna get down from here now please and thank you.”

“Give us a moment.”

“Steve, I swear to god.”

Steve cupped his face. “Please listen. Please.”

Tony swallowed his reply. Hated himself for leaning into the touch.

“Steve,” Bucky said. “You wanna start?”

“What I had with both of you was unfinished,” Steve said, as if this was the easiest thing for him to discuss. “I would like to not go my entire life wondering what would happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“I like you, Tony. I like Bucky too.”

Bucky placed his hand behind Tony’s neck. Partly for support. Partly for things Tony couldn’t properly think about. “I like you. And I like Steve. I want you both.”

Tony couldn’t breathe.

“I guess what we want to know is how you feel about this all,” Bucky continued. “I know it’s not been an easy ride, but- well, we would like to try. If you’d let us.”

“No pressure, of course,” Steve said, running his thumb over Tony’s cheek. “I guess we can’t really know, but we get the impression you’re into us both too.”

Tony turned his face away. “Get me out of here.”

“Tony-”

“Get. Me. Out. Of. Here.”

It took them five painfully silent minutes, but Tony was finally able to stand up, kicking the cords away from him with too much force than was necessary.

Steve said, “Tony,” but Tony silenced him with his lips, their teeth clashing hard enough that it hurt, but Tony found he didn’t care. Didn’t have the time to care right now. This kiss was months overdue and Tony was a starving man.

Steve kissed him back hungrily, arms wrapped around him and nails almost digging into his back. As if he’d been just as desperate this entire time. As if there was no one but Tony.

Bucky touched Tony’s lower back from behind and Tony broke the kiss to come face to face with him. “Jealous?”

“More like feeling very left out,” Bucky said, his voice low.

“Come here, then.”

Bucky kissed him slowly, but there was something wild beneath it. Tony was certain he would pick him up and pin him against a wall if Tony asked him to.

Kinda hot. Maybe later. He had a feeling they would do a lot of things later, the three of them.

[timeisacephalopod]

Department

A fun little AU in which people from the MCU are professors in a slice of life AU with some minor Sam/Rhodey. Pretty much because I think it’d be fun to write.

Tony walks around the table and sits next to Steve. “I’m just saying fuck the humanities- first of all I don’t know what the hell you guys do there and also you guys have all the fun,” he says, handing Steve a mug of coffee.

He takes it gratefully but says nothing, looking kind of like an angry buff dandelion drinking nectar. Wait, bees do that, not flowers. Whatever- still holds up. “Uh, excuse you film students have the most fun,” Peter says and fuck no they do not Quill can suck it.

“Absolutely not, film students think liking Psycho is a replacement for a personality. Extremely pretentious,” he says, waving a hand around.

Steve snorts, “you say that like STEM students don’t think that studying math makes them the most important people on earth. If I had a dollar for every time I heard some damn STEM student talk shit about someone in an English class while going on and on about not being able to find a job-”

“You’d actually do something useful with your life?” Tony asks and Steve glares at him. “Just saying, English is boring and also useless to society.”

“He’s only saying that because he failed English fifteen times in high school,” Rhodey says, absolutely betraying him like the worst best friend in the world that he is.

“I’m telling Sam you think his chemistry studies are all bunk and that he misread the data,” he says even though they’re both wrong. Sam misread the data, but he misread the data so hard he was right again and Rhodey is wrong about Sam being wrong but right about the data misread. Tony figures he’ll correct himself in later publications with his fresh new experiments and funding.

“Go ahead, I’ll tell him you’re salty because I called you out,” he says and Tony wrinkles his nose.

“You’re not hip with the kids for using language they understand,” he tells Rhodey. “Seriously though- best department is, in my not at all biased opinion, is the engineering department.”

“Absolutely not, history,” Steve says and Tony rolls his eyes.

“Aren’t you an expert on World War Two? Totally boring,” he says. “Which I personally blame film for because seriously, do we really need another damn movie about some guy getting traumatized in World War Two? It sucked, we get it.”

“Considering nazis are back no we didn’t,” Steve mumbles.

“Don’t be absurd, they never went away but valid point,” Tony says, giving Steve credit where its due.

“Best department is chem, obviously,” Sam says, walking in late to the game but clearly having been filled in by Rhodey.

“Look, maybe we have some pretentious types but film is the best,” Peter says.

“Better than history,” Tony says, grinning at Steve.

Steve rolls his eyes but the action is fond. “You’re only saying that because you’ve slept with Quill,” Steve says and Tony gives him a look.

“Buddy, if that were the case I’d have the same opinion about you and your utterly boring department,” he points out.

“Actually he’d have that opinion of every department,” Rhodey says, selling him out twice in a matter of ten minutes. Traitor!

Peter frowns, “wait, even cultural studies? You braved Natasha Romanov?” he asks like she’s scary. She isn’t, and the way to her heart and bed is through memes but he’s been sworn to secrecy on that so he doesn’t say anything.

Tony shrugs, “she’s hot,” he says in way of an explanation. Rhodey rolls his eyes because he happens to know that’s not the reason he spent any time with Natasha. Or anyone else he’s slept with. Granted he has a thing for pretty people but also there’s an unusual amount of pretty people in this university. Even the students are weirdly pretty.

“You have a death wish,” Sam mumbles and it obviously occurs to Rhodey that he said all departments and he squints at Sam. He notices right away and rolls his eyes. “Like you haven’t slept with him Rhodes. Don’t look at me like that,” he says.

“Traitor!” Rhodey hisses at Tony and he squints at him.

“You told me out twice in this conversation alone. Face it platypus, you need replacing with someone more loyal. Maybe Barnes, he’s loyal,” Tony muses more to himself than anyone else.

“Are you prepared to listen to his rants about the moon being fake?” Steve asks and god, why did he have to say it like that?

“He believes in the moon, he just... thinks studying conspiracy theories is a valid thing to study for some reason. The fact that he’s pretty totally makes up for it,” Tony insists.

“Does my prettiness make up for pretentious film types?” Peter asks, batting his eyelashes.

Tony snorts, “no.”

Peter looks offended but Steve laughs, “I’m certain my looks make up for his thinking World War Two is boring,” he says in a lofty tone.

“If anyone’s looks makes up for their shit personality or area of study its Stephen Strange. Guy is a total jackass but damn he is attractive.” Wong, weird as he is, kind of makes up for Stephen’s... lacking personality anyway. And he’s a fantastic cook.

“We should have a Hunger Games like competition for Tony’s affections,” Steve says, grinning. His coffee is half gone so his personality has shown up again, something Tony knows happens from experience dealing with him in the morning. “Clearly I would win,” he adds.

“Oh as if, I’m adorable,” Peter says.

“I would absolutely demolish both of you,” Sam tells them and Rhodey looks offended. “What baby? If I win everyone loses, Tony included. That’s the ultimate win,” he says in his own defense.

“You think trying to win my best friend’s affections and then ditching him for me somehow makes you a winner? Not when I dump your ass for being a dick to Tony,” he says and Tony laughs.

“Calm it, Rhodes, Sam’s plan is hilarious,” he says.

“See, he likes it,” Sam says in his defense.

Rhodey shakes his head, “this is what I get for standing up for you. You’re a damn asshole,” he tells Tony.

“I maintain that I’d be the winner,” Steve says.

“Of what?” Bucky asks as he walks into the room, Natasha trailing behind.

“A Hunger Games like battle for Tony’s affections,” Steve says, looking over his shoulder at him.

Bucky laughs, “I’d kick your ass, I know your weaknesses. A whiff of gluten and you’re out.” Steve gives him a dirty look for that but Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Don’t be stupid, I’d win,” Natasha says and Peter shakes his head.

“Nope, I’m out of this competition I’m not looking to fight Natasha.”

“Yeah, I’d rather study World War Two than relive it, sorry Tony,” Steve adds.

“I don’t think Natasha has weaknesses to exploit so um. I’d rather not,” Bucky says.

“Rhodey is mad at me for trying to rig the game and also Natasha scares me a little so no,” Sam says.

“Cowards,” Natasha mumbles, shaking her head.

“You know what, I’ll battle you for my own affections,” Tony says seems how no one else is willing to do it.

“Oh, going Brave huh?” Peter asks and Tony squints.

“What’s that mean?” Tony asks. Peter lets out a long sigh but its not Tony’s fault he hasn’t seen every movie under the sun and after Peter recommending A Clockwork Orange he’s never taking a movie recommendation again.

Sam grins, “well, the good news is that y’all are losers and I still have Rhodey so ha.” Rhodey looks like he wants to be mad at that but fails after a few moments and starts laughing.

[tasharii]

Your Colors: Ch.9.

A/N: Sooo life caught up with me basically. I've got a new full time job in a new state that's taking some getting used to. But I'm not giving up! I love this story and I'm invested and it's killed me to not have time to write. This is my happy place. In order to accommodate and hopefully get a new chapter out every week, or every other week if things don't work out, my chapters are going to get a little shorter. I'm going to try and restrain myself, but still be proud of them.I hope you guys can work with me and stick around. I've got another Bucky story coming up involving ghosts and circuses...... BUT I'm forcing myself to at least finish a rough draft before I start posting it. This is the only story I'm going to allow myself to write on a week by week basis.Thank you guys so much for all the feedback on the last chapter and for giving me so much support. It really means a lot to me and I love hearing everything that you have to say. Enjoy! <3

Summary:  Art was the one good thing between college, work, and the grey minutes in-between. Sometimes, it felt like she wasn’t alive at all. Just drifting. When she joined her new art class, she never expected to start experiencing everything in an entirely new light. All thanks to him. Or: Where Bucky Barnes gets more than he bargained from his new drawing partner.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 10K

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, unrequited love angst

Masterlist

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3 Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6 Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10   Chapter 11  Chapter 12  Chapter 13

****

Sharp pounding on her door drew her out of a very deep sleep. It dug into her temples and instantly pissed her off. Groggy, Y/N reached out a heavy arm and patted around on her nightstand until she found her phone. The light made her eyes squint, and she brushed her tangled hair back off her face. 10AM. It was 10AM on a Friday morning. Her day off. One of the few days she didn’t have anywhere to be until the afternoon. Just fantastic.

Annoyed, she tossed her phone beside her on the bed and groaned, scrubbing at her face. As if that would make the dust bunnies in her head clear up. Then the banging started up again. Growling, Y/N sat all the way up and kicked at the knotted blankets around her feet. They fell off the bed in a clump, and chills sliced down her spine from the brisk morning air. Pale blue sunlight filtered in from her drawn curtains.

Somehow, she managed to clamber out of bed and shouted, voice rough from sleep, “I’M COMING!” The knocking stopped for a minute, and she yanked at her tank top, straightening it. The air nipped at her toes, and she stumbled over to her bathroom door. Fluffy robe in hand, she loosely tied it on. Covering her bare legs, and underwear. Not a care in the world about how she might look. Just brushed a hand through her hair to get it out of her face and headed to the door.

Flinging it open, Y/N automatically glared at the three men across the threshold in the dimly lit hall, “Can I help you?” She asked, yawning halfway through. Words muffled by the hand over her mouth, she slumped against the door to keep herself standing.

The first guy gave her a very unimpressed once over, and scratched at his balding head, “We’re here to fix a leak.” He drawled. When she continued to stare at him, dumbfounded, he slowly elaborated, “Your landlord said you’ve been complaining about a leak in your kitchen.” Even from where she was, she could smell his abundant amounts of aftershave. See the sweat stains along his shirt. Could even count the little scabs littering his neck from nicking himself shaving. Yet he was looking at her like she was an idiot.

Blearily, Y/N blinked and glanced over at her kitchen in question before it finally dawned on her, “Oh! Ya, there’s this huge stain. Luckily, it just drips into my sink. Not the floor.” She nodded, happy the landlord finally listened after months of complaining, but then frowned, “He didn’t tell me he scheduled anything.” Eyebrows together, she stood up straighter and fidgeted with her pale blue robe, adjusting the belt. The man’s dark eyes were roaming across her just a hair more than she appreciated.

Shrugging, the balding guy, his nametag called him Rick, tilted his head, “Do you want us to fix it or not?” He asked. Behind him, the other two were playing around on their phones. Already checked out for the moment. Lazily, Rick glanced down at his notepad, and tapped at it with a pen.

She pulled her hair over one shoulder and bit her lip, “How long’s it gonna take?” The open doorway let a cool draft that fluttered the edges of her robe around her legs. Goosebumps covered her thighs, and she really wanted to be doing anything else but this.

Yet again, his shoulders bobbed up and then down, “Depends on the damage. Hopefully we’ll get it done today. If not, we’ll come back tomorrow. Got someplace you can go to kill some hours? We’ll be out no later than 7 tonight.” A hint of impatience made his words sharper at the ends. He scribbled something down with his pen, scratching it on the top corner like he was trying to get ink to come out.

Ya, Y/N had somewhere she could go. Just hadn’t planned on actually going today. It took her just a minute to think about it. To hesitate. There was no guarantee that her landlord would follow through with rescheduling. He was flighty like that. And if the leak got worse, she could see him trying to pin it on her. Make her pay for it. Say that it was her fault.

Reluctantly, she stepped back, and waved them in, “Ya, just let me get around. I’ll be out of your way in a bit.” When the door shut behind them, she tried to hide a grimace. Their shoes were muddy, and no one offered to take off their boots. Well, the carpet was already stained to hell. Not like it would be very noticeable. But it was rude.

After showing them the leak, Y/N disappeared into her bathroom for a shower. Took her time, and even blow-dried her hair instead of letting it dry on its own. Dressed and ready for the day, she could hear them banging around in her kitchen. Loudly. She peaked out and saw that they had started digging in the ceiling. Her kitchen had a dropped ceiling with panels. They had at least three panels scattered along her floor. Along with debris and questionable dust.

One of the other guys, David, spotted her over by her bed, and called, “It’s going to take us at least today to fix the pipe. Nothing too bad, but we want to be safe.” He offered her a thin-lipped smile. At least he was trying to be polite. Toolbox in hand, and handing supplies to the other two up on stepstools. Distantly, she wondered why it took three big guys to fix one leak. Rick cursed and yanked a wrench from David’s hand, growling out something she couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, it didn’t make David happy. He rolled his eyes and dropped the toolbox down on her counter, hard. Before she could get too stressed out, she turned away and tried to not think about the mess they were making.

Honestly, Y/N didn’t know a thing about plumbing, or maintenance and she didn’t care. Even if she should. So, she walked away and picked her phone off her nightstand and shot her landlord an email to thank him for finally sending guys over to fix the issue. And to also, subtly, verify that he did indeed send them. That they didn’t just pick an unfortunate mark for a robbery. Even if they had, she didn’t have much they could steal. Just some ridiculously expensive, used, art supplies that probably didn’t have a good resell value.

Legs crossed up on her bed, she felt a shot of pain twinge through her ribs. A quiet, tired sigh left her as she racked a hand through her hair and stared up at her ceiling for a second. Despite feeling better after her shower, Y/N’s stomach twisted as she glanced back down at her phone. Specifically, at her text messages. Bucky had messaged her around 9, before she woke up.

Bucky: Still want me to come over at 1?

No. No she didn’t. At least she had a legitimate excuse as to why he couldn’t come over. Before, she planned to just fake a stomach bug or something equally juvenile. Her thumbs hovered over her keypad, debating on what she should send back. If anything.

Things weren’t ok. Hadn’t been in nearly a week. Since last Sunday, she’d only seen him in class Monday and Thursday.

Monday had been the worst.

 Monday, December 3rd

If it hadn’t been for the fact that they were presenting their final watercolor projects, Y/N would have skipped class. She felt sick enough. Dehydrated from crying. Exhausted from a restless night of tossing and turning. Between intermittent bursts of pathetic sobbing. It was obvious that she was nothing more than a reanimated corpse. Shadowed rings under her eyes, ashen skin, and she could barely manage to stand upright. All wrapped up in an oversized cozy hoodie, and unwashed hair scooped up in a tangled knot.

“Y/N?” Ramsey’s voice tickled her ears, and she blinked, looking over at him curiously. Standing only a few students away from her, annoyance radiated from the firm grinding of his jaw. Right along with the way his mouth disappeared in a fine line within the bushy hair of his beard. He raised his equally thick eyebrows at her, pointedly gesturing to the front of the room, “I was asking if you had any thoughts on Mr. Barnes’ work.”

Embarrassed, fiery scarlet crawled across her skin, and she reluctantly looked over at Bucky. Fully acknowledging him for the first time that day. The entire class was gathered, as usual, for a critic. She hovered near the back of the crowd, arms buried in her deep front pocket, barely registering the class at all. Everything was just white noise. Like flickering static on a TV set. And Y/N just floated above it all. A specter to her own life.

Bucky was staring at her, eyes shining with hesitant curiosity. She’d not said anything about his project since he got up there. Hadn’t even reacted. Which was uncharacteristic of their relationship. Even meeting his eyes made her want to cry. Like his mere presence was crippling. It was pathetic. She averted her eyes to the painting instead, taking a step to the side so she could see past an older guy in front of her. Nails digging into her palms to distract her.

The painting was good. Emotionally moving even. It was of a group of men. Soldiers. Walking together towards the viewer. They’re all beat up, and obviously exhausted. The color pallet was limited to brown, green, white and red. The red was used sparingly, careful to not muddy it up with the green and brown. She could just make out Steve and Bucky in the painting. They were the focus, closest to the viewer, and leaning on each other. Bucky’s arm was around Steve’s shoulder, using him as a crutch. The painting was so impressionistic, that Y/N figured most people wouldn’t even recognize Bucky in the work.

Just a group of men, walking into the light with their shadows stretched out behind them. Like they’re heading towards something better. Hoping to leave the worst darkness behind them.

Bucky had vaguely mentioned it was inspired by different events he witnessed during his time at war. Men grateful to finally go home.

Suddenly aware that she’d been silent for too long again, Y/N awkwardly shrugged, “It’s beautiful. Like all of his work.” The words were stilted and cracked somewhere along the way into the air. Chin down, she shuffled her feet. Tried to ignore the eyes on her. Ignore the momentary flash of disappoint across Bucky’s face, before it was buried again. He stared away from her too, at a point on the floor a few feet in front of him. His eyes distant, and expression perfectly chiseled into nonchalance. Like he wasn’t bothered by anything at all. Lately, he hid behind a blank mask. Just shut it all down.

If only she could too.

Ramsey stared at her, surprised, and waited for her to add anything else. It was her most pathetic critic ever, and she was entirely aware. But her head and heart both hurt. And when she accidentally met Bucky’s eyes again, all she could think about was the ache chewing away inside of her.

If it didn’t stop soon, there wouldn’t be anything left inside at all.

 Pressing her lips together, Y/N hit call on her phone and held it up to her ear. Her hand was sweaty, and she hugged her free arm around her ribs. Like maybe she could hold back the overwhelming sense of dread if she just squeezed hard enough. There was a string of banging, and clattering to her right just past her dividing bookshelf. Along with deep, monotone strings of buzzing conversation. But she barely heard any of it.

Just let it ring to voicemail. Please don’t pick up. Eyes shut, she bit her bottom lip hard enough to almost drop blood.

It rang three times before Bucky answered, “Hey! I was starting to wonder if you were going to sleep the day away.” He chuckled, the melody to unlock her heart. The smile in his voice made her lips turn up a little, making her teeth release their abusive hold. But hers was a bittersweet sort of smile.

“If only,” She huffed and covered her other ear to block out the noise filling her apartment, “I’ve got some bad news. My landlord schedule maintenance on the leak in my kitchen. Didn’t even tell me. These guys are gonna be here all day, so we can’t meet up.” Her toes curled under her thighs, eyes drifting up towards the ceiling. With every word, she wondered if he could hear the tremor of anxiety in her voice. It was so embarrassingly obvious to her.

Of course, Y/N didn’t mention alternatives. Like the library, or even one of the studio classrooms at Orion. Because she didn’t have the heart to see him. Or the heart to disappoint him by bluntly admitting to being too weak to see him. Neither felt like an option.

Bucky was quiet for a moment, but then he offered, “We can work at my place if you want.” He sounded hesitant, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was saying. The offer made her suck in a surprised breath and sat up straighter.

To be fair, Y/N couldn’t believe it either. She’d never been to his apartment before. Had started to think she never would. Immediately, she had a war going on inside of her. She wanted to but didn’t want to. Was so damn curious about his place, but it hurt to even be around him at this point. Wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to do him the curtsy of keeping her emotions in check. She covered her face with her hand, and curled forward, like she might hide inside of herself. Elbows on her knees, she tried to calm her mind, blocking out the sudden blast of music from someone’s phone in her kitchen. Some obnoxiously loud rock band.

As of late, she felt like a ticking timebomb. One wrong word, or touch, and her façade would rip apart. Sometimes she wanted to scream at him. Other times beg for an explanation, or just cry like a baby. Then, every other minute, she was just numb, but that didn’t make for good company either. All those emotions were just barely held back by her fingers, and she was tired. So tired.

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked softly, standing up and walking over to the window in her bedroom area. Restless. She parted the thick curtains and stared up at the heavy, grey sky, “They’ll be out of here by Sunday, you could just come over then.” If he’d just agree to a reschedule, maybe she could put herself back together by Sunday. Bury it all and be the friend he wanted her to be.

An early Christmas miracle. Afterall, it was December.

Sometimes Y/N wondered, if given the option to go back. All the way back to two months ago. To the moment she asked him to be her partner, what she’d do. Would she still ask him? Honestly, she wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe it would just be easier to have never met James Buchanan Barnes.

“I really don’t mind.” Bucky replied, conviction getting stronger with every syllable, “You need all the practice you can get with acrylic.” He added, and he wasn’t wrong. Y/N fiercely loathed acrylic. It was the next section of their class, now that they were done with watercolor. And it was Bucky’s favorite. Which made his help very valuable.

Biting her bottom lip, she let her forehead rest against the cold window. It was starting to snow. Thick, heavy white drops drifted down from the darkening sky. Pure crystals that blotted out the muddy streets of the city below. Y/N huffed, trying to keep the frustration out of her words, “They want me out of here till 7. I don’t want to get in the way.” She tried. It was the last excuse she could come up with. At least, without making it obvious that she was actively avoiding him.

Another beat of silence passed. Despite the harsh weather outside, throngs of people passed under her window. Finishing their work before the weekend. Rick cursed behind her and yelled at one of the guys to steady the ladder. The sound of Bucky’s voice focused her hazy mind, “I’d really like to see you today.” It was a timid, sweet admission, that made her lungs stumble. He added, “But if you don’t want to, I get it. Really.” Of course he did, because he could read her well enough to understand. Understand that she was practically a raw nerve left out in the winter wind.

Closing her eyes, she swallowed the lump in her throat, “I’ll be over in a bit.” She wanted to see him too. Because the really fucked up part about it all, was that the person who made her feel better also hurt her at the same time. A perfectly figurative double-edged sword.

“See you soon.” Bucky finished before hanging up. For a second, he sounded just as grim as she felt. With just those three words. She pressed her phone to her chest and tried to ignore the bubbling excitement at getting to see him. Because right along beside it, was a flowing tar river of dread and heartbreak. Things weren’t getting any easier like she had hoped they would over time.

Desperately, Y/N wished she could skip the heartbreak part. Skip ahead to the point where she figured out how to be Bucky’s friend. Just his friend. Figured out what was ok to do and say. To a point where she knew what crossed the boundaries he was trying to set. To a place where she wasn’t an emotional ball of knotted string.

  Bucky met her at the entry way of his apartment. Soft snow clung to her hair, and she dusted it off her backpack. His footsteps echoed off the walls as he stood up from the stairwell, coming over to meet her at the door. There was a moment where his arms came up, like he was about to hug her, but then he stopped. Let them fall, and gave her a small smile, “Just got to um, get my mail really quick.”

“Ok,” Y/N replied, ignoring the disappointment that he hadn’t hugged her. It shouldn’t be surprising. Since Sunday, he’d avoided most physical contact. Didn’t stand too close to her. Didn’t touch her arm to get her attention anymore. And, of course, hadn’t hugged her since Sunday either.

If it wasn’t for his obvious attempts to spend time with her, and talk, she’d think they’d only just met again.

He turned away from her, and she shuffled away from the door. Out of the way of a couple who were coming in from the weather. A gust of air chased them in and swirls of snow swept across the stained, tiled floor. The lobby was cold, and she rubbed at her gloved fingers. Bucky clicked the lock of his box, just to the left of the door, and she watched him quickly sort through the mail. Up ahead, the staircase started, and beyond that, under the stairwell, was the landlord’s office. As well as the laundry room. The building was old and drafty. Too much brick and not a lot of windows. If she looked up, she could see the twisting of the creaking staircase up all five floors.

The woman snickered as she started up the stairs, and then squealed when her boyfriend yanked at the tail of her scarf and chased after her. Y/N could hear them laughing and the echoing of their footsteps all the way up. Until a door slammed and cut off the carrying sounds of their joy.

Bucky glanced over at her, locking it back, and held up the mail, “Just junk and bills. Shouldn’t have expected much else.” She noticed how tense he seemed. Nervous and tired under the mask of content, casual banter. It showed in the deep circles under his eyes, and the jittery way he moved his hands and held himself too straight. Not too long ago, she’d concluded that Bucky didn’t sleep much. Somehow, it seemed he was sleeping even less.

“No one writes letters anymore.” Y/N mused, trying to mimic his casual pointless chatting. She could do this, “It’s a shame.” Hands tucked in her pockets, she shrugged, and took a step closer to the stairs. Part of her was excited to see the inside of his apartment, but she had no idea how she was going to survive 7 hours of this. Pretending everything was ok.

“Damn right it is.” Bucky snorted, waving for her to follow him to the staircase. Didn’t have an elevator, so she enjoyed a three story climb up the echoing, wooden and iron stairway.

By the time they reached the third floor, Y/N was winded. Bucky hadn’t even broken a sweat. He grinned cheekily at her over his shoulder, “When it gets warmer, you should come on jogs with me.” He pulled his keys from his pants pocket and shuffled through the ring with his free hand. Distractedly glancing between the keys and her as he stopped in front of a dark wooden door. His gloved hand tapped his mail against his thigh, impatient, or just nervous.

Unimpressed, she rolled her eyes, leaning against the pale green wall next to his door, “What? You gonna drive all the way to my apartment, and drag me to Central Park?” It would take him 30 minutes alone to just drive there.

Bucky’s smile didn’t fade as he unlocked his apartment door, “Maybe. Don’t tempt me.” He swung the door open and held it for her to come inside. When she stepped past him, she made sure to keep her arms close to herself. To keep from accidentally touching him.

His apartment wasn’t what she thought it would look like, but it suited him. It was about the same size as her studio apartment but broken up with walls. From the doorway, she stood in the small pathway between the living room and kitchen. The back of a couch to her right, and a counter to her left. The living room doubled as a studio. A couch, two black beanbags, and TV stand took up half the room closest to the door. To her left stood the small kitchenette, no bigger than her own, sectioned off with a counter. A hallway opened past the kitchen, disappearing around the bend. Likely leading to the bedroom and bathroom.

Bucky was watching her observing everything. Hands propping him up against the back of the couch. Mail and glove discarded on the kitchen counter. In a soft blue sweater, and dark jeans with paint stains he was the epitome of a dreamy artist. Eyes bright against the color of the shirt, and dark strands framing his face. Dried green paint clung to his fingertips, even speckling the silver of his left hand.

After taking off her soggy boots next to his at the door, Y/N dropped her bag next to the armrest of the couch. Bypassing it to cross the far side of the room. Next to the only window in the room, stood a wide wooden desk. A tall silver lamp and bookshelf beside it. The bookshelf was overflowing, and scraps of paper littered every available space. Sketchbooks were stacked haphazardly against the wall on the floor, most too big to fit into a drawer. Drawings and notes covered every spare inch of the cream-colored wall around the window.

Quietly, she studied every drawing she could. Some she recognized. The bakery where he worked, half sketches of the street view from his apartment, Steve, animals, scenery from the park, a girl she suspected was his sister from the dimple on her chin, and even a few of herself. And more. So many more.

Distracted, she unzipped her coat, slipping it off and holding it against her chest. After a minute, Bucky cleared his throat and she jerked, he was right behind her, “These are just some I’m proud of, or ideas I haven’t finished.” He explained, standing to her right. The grey light from the window made his eyes shine molten silver, “I was thinking, maybe would watch a movie while we work?” He lifted his dark eyebrows, gaze darting over her features, and rubbed the back of his neck.

Already feeling her nerves getting the best of her, Y/N nodded and made her way back to her bag. Just wanting to keep her hands busy, she tugged out her art supplies, “Sure, what you got in mind?” First her 9x12 Bristol sketchbook, then travel set of paints, pencils, bag of brushes and eraser. She sat on the couch, flipping to the page she’d already been working on. A drawing of the Brooklyn bridge.

Bucky’s lips flickered like he wanted to smile, but didn’t quite manage it, “I was thinking a Marvel marathon?” He grabbed his own sketchpad off his desk, and two cups for rinse water. He tucked a clean paintbrush behind his ear, his sketchpad under his arm, the cups stacked in his one hand, and a few other brushes in his other. Tubes of paint were already scattered on the coffee table, along with a pallet stained with green paint.

Pencil in hand, Y/N snorted, “Don’t know if we’ve got that kinda time, but sure. I haven’t seen Captain America in a while.”

  They worked without talking too much until close to 6. Only stopping to pop a frozen pizza in the oven and eat sometime around 2. Bucky on one of the bean bag chairs closer to the left side of the TV. She ended up on the floor, back against the couch, so she could spread out her paints. The hardwood floor underneath her made her butt numb, but she didn’t have to worry about being too messy. It’d clean up easier here than her carpet. Which had plenty of paint stains she’d have to pay for when she moved out.

It wasn’t as unbearable as Y/N expected it to be, but every so often she still felt a knife twist around inside her. With a constant weight on her body, pressing her down like a shadowy shroud, every action was strained. She was attempting to paint a robin on a branch. Had given up on her bridge an hour ago. Was about to give up on the bird too. The feathers were getting clumped together, and kind of starting to look like a mutant falcon of some sort. Her fine pencil lines lost in her clumsy use of a paintbrush.

“I really liked your watercolor piece.�� Bucky stated, pretty much out of the blue. Y/N paused and peeked up at him for the first time in a few hours. She’d made it a point to stare at her horrible painting the entire time, and even when she needed help, she didn’t ask for it. Because she didn’t want him to be as close to her as he would need to be to help save her painting.

It took her a second to pull her mind away from her work and focus in on him and his words. Her paintbrush stilled, and she lifted it up, holding the top edges of her sketchbook. Slowly, she stretched out her legs, flexing her ankles to regain feeling in her feet. The sketchbook came to rest flat on her thighs, and she frowned. Oh ya, her painting from Monday, “Thank you.” That was all she had to say to him Monday, and that was all she could think to say to him now.

 Monday, December 3

Ramsey, spurred on by spiteful annoyance at her lack of response to Bucky’s painting, made her go next. Y/N didn’t want anyone to look at her, or her work. Didn’t want to have to try and explain why she did what she did. The heart behind her painting wasn’t there anymore.

“I um love Greek mythology,” Y/N started, words immediately failing her. Flying out of her mind like wisps of smoke, “So I chose to use Aphrodite, goddess of love, as my focus. White doves are symbolic to her.” She stopped, arms crossed and leaned back against the white board. Already finished.

Everyone stared at her, waiting for her to continue, but when her silence stretched on, they finally focused on her artwork. It felt like needles were pricking at her skin. Too hot all over, and mouth dry as the summer sun.

The painting had been one of her favorites. A beautiful woman with a flowing dress, arms back holding up the tail end of it like a cape. Serene while she glided forward across the canvas. Then two doves flew right in front of her, together like they’d come directly from her heart. The ends of the dress melted down into a stream of colors and brush strokes near the bottom. Shifting into a galaxy. The doves were mostly white and surrounded by darker colors to help contrast them out.

When she’d painted it, Y/N had been thinking about love. Not just Bucky. Love in general and how scared she was to fall in love. How fickle Greek gods were, just like emotions, and prone to mistakes in many of the stories. Love and gods were both tricky things. It was fueled with so many of her emotions, all poured out onto a page.

But now, she didn’t feel anything like before. Nothing but achy longing.

“I was just wondering if I could buy it from you. After the show.” Bucky’s voice broke through her thoughts, and she met his eyes, surprised. His sketchbook was propped against his knees, a pallet of paints on the floor to his right. Brush in the cup of water, he swirled it around and wiped it clean on a stray paper towel in a practiced motion. Not even looking down when he did it. Just studying her.

“Buy it?” Y/N asked, eyebrows pinched in confusion, “Why would you want to buy it?” Iron Man played in the background, the sound of him working on his first finished suit filled up the apartment. She set aside her bird, a lost cause, to dry. Despite the paintings being awful, she’d have to turn them in Monday. Maybe after it dried, she could clean it up some.

Bucky’s mouth curved into a teasing smile, setting aside his brush, “Cause it’s awesome? And I want to hang it up?” He asked slowly in return, like he was spelling it out to a child. Elbows propped on his knees, he pushed aside his own sketchbook. From where she sat, it looked like he was painting one of his original sketches of her. From her apartment. One of the poses where she sat in her recliner, reading.

Once again, he made her beautiful. Y/N could tell that much, even from where she sat.

Blinking, she shook her head, a bit reluctant to the idea of him paying her. Especially for that piece. Which had revolved around him so tightly. Tense, she sat up straighter and rinsed out her brush. The water was just a tint away from scarlet now, “Mn I guess so, but you don’t have to buy it. You can just have it.” Water dripped dark splotches from the brush onto her jeans before she wrapped it in a stained paper towel and dried it off. Dried paint coated under her nails, and fingertips. Coating them crimson.

Immediately, Bucky scowled at her, “No, I’m going to pay you for it. I personally know how many hours you spent on that. I’m not just going to take it from you.” He gestured with his hands as he spoke, sweater rolled up to his elbows, and scratched at his jaw. There was a smudge of paint across his scruffy cheek.

Flustered, Y/N stood up with her pallet of colors and cup of dirty water. Stepping around the couch, her socked feet slid just a bit against the smooth floor, “I don’t really know what to price it at.” She stopped at his sink, picking up a few dirty breakfast dishes, and setting them out of the way. Then she started rinsing off her supplies. Water cold against her skin, but slowly warming as it ran. Soft scarlet, black, white, and green paint swirled against the silver sink, and away with the water. Fingers against the pallet she scrubbed the dried paint off, and then picked as much of the paint out from under her nails as she could.

She figured once she was cleaned up, it’d be close enough to 7 to justify her leaving. AKA bolting. Bucky followed after her with his own dirty pallet and water, “I was thinking about 100. Maybe more depending on what you’re offered at the art show.”

Sputtering, she sat aside her pallet to dry and finally meet his eyes. He was suddenly close, and she had to take a calming breath. Or else her heart might stop beating, “That’s a little much don’t you think?” He was standing at her left and tilted the faucet towards himself, so he could rinse his own materials. Arm brushing hers, she got to feel that his sweater was softer than it looked.

Bucky shook his head, and she stepped aside so he could better use the sink, “No, I bet if you price it at 100 someone will buy it.” She wiped her damp hands on a brown kitchen towel.

“Someone crazy.” Y/N grumbled, but then shrugged, “I’ll make sure Ramsey puts a ‘sold’ sticker on it for you. You don’t have to pay me till you get it, though.” There wasn’t any good reason to justify her not letting him have it. If she was being honest, she didn’t really want to keep it. It just reminded her of dark thoughts that she didn’t need to dwell on.

Bucky nodded, and glanced up. It looked like he was about to say something else, but then he frowned, “It’s really coming down out there.” His eyes were over her shoulder, focused on something across the room. Hands dripping water, he turned off the faucet and placed his supplies next to her own and dried his hands on his jeans.

Y/N turned, following his line of sight towards the window. Her heart dropped into a pit, and she quickly paced around the counter, bundling her cold fingers against the hem of her shirt. Crossing the living room, she peered out the window over his desk. It was a blanket of white outside. No cars passed through the road, and the ones parked along the side were nothing more than little white hills. Barley distinguishable. Part of her, the artistic part, wanted to draw it. Try to capture the shining white crystals contrasted with the stark grey of the buildings. Splashes of cover peeking out, about to disappear under a blanket of freshly falling snow. But that part of her was background noise to the roaring anxiety that made her grit of teeth.

“Shit.” She groaned, racking a hand through her hair. Hadn’t even noticed that it was snowing so hard because she was too busy not looking anywhere but at her artwork. It was quiet too. That sort of peaceful silence that came from the snow dulling out noises.

Back over at the couch, she picked her phone off the cushion and sat down to investigate. Darcy had messaged her, sending a selfie of her snuggled up with a cup of something steaming, and the caption ‘Snow days rock!’. A little later after that, Peter had let her know that he was super bummed because Mr. Stark made him leave work early.

Her weather app had issued a ‘winter weather warning’. High freezing winds, lots of snow, and lots of ice. Y/N carefully shut her sketchbook, the paint barely dry but she didn’t have the time too care. Then began gathering up her stuff, “I better get going. Before the roads get any worse.” Before she got stuck there. Hastily, she unzipped her bag and stuffed everything back inside. Then hurried to the kitchen, snatching her damp pallet off the counter.

Bucky stood by the window, watching it come down, and turned back to look at her, perplexed, “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” His arms were crossed, fists fight against his shirt. Lips in a fine line, he kept glancing between her and outside.

Y/N snorted a very thin, awkward laugh, putting her tubes of paint in her bag, “What’s the alternative? Stay here?” Her heart skipped at the thought. It was ridiculous. No, she couldn’t do that. For her sake and his, it would be better if she went home.

“Well ya, I mean, you could.” Bucky shrugged, taking a couple steps away from the window. Arms still crossed, and shoulders tense near his ears. It was obvious he didn’t seem to like the idea either, and that only made her feel worse. Guilty, and uncomfortable.

She shook her head, “No, I can get a cab. They drive in all kinds of weather.” The weather app had said to stay off the roads and inside if at all possible. It was getting dark. Earlier than normal due to the heavy clouds blotting out the sun. But Y/N couldn’t imagine staying the night after this week.

Maybe last week it would have been a fantasy come true. Like in some stupid romcom, but now? After Sunday? It was a fully-grown monster of an awkward, awful idea. Complete with horns and a snake tongue.

At the door, she slipped on her shoes and zipped up her coat. Bucky grabbed her arm just as she was reaching for the doorknob, “Stay.” He stated, quietly, but seriously.

She glanced up at him, swallowing the lump in her throat the formed from being able to smell his cologne, “I can’t.” Y/N was surprised at how vulnerable her voice was. She hadn’t meant to sound like that. It was supposed to be stronger than that. More resolute. Jerking, she pulled her arm from his grip and shook her head again when he opened his mouth to argue. Hand on the doorknob, she opened the door and stepped into the hall. It was even colder now, and the dim lights overhead flickered, buzzing. Even colder without Bucky’s hand on her arm.

Only just making it to the stairs, Bucky caught the strap of her backpack. Y/N whirled around on him, “I can’t stay here.” She repeated, managing to be just a bit firmer this time. Not even flinching, he took another step closer to her. Her hands trembled slightly as anxiety started to pour into her veins, clawing at her head.

Cautiously, Bucky guided her heavy bag down. Taking it off her, and she found herself letting him. The way he stared unwaveringly at her, as if seeing the dark tidepool of emotions behind her eyes, made her face grow hot with bit back tears. He shouldered it, and placed a hand on her arm, “You can.” He took a breath, closing his eyes as if to gather his thoughts then continued, “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you out there.” Bucky squeezed her arm and then stepped away, giving her space back.

“But it’s,” Y/N’s breath hitched, panic making her stomach feel sick. The cold bit at her fingertips and her hands balled into fists. Nervously shaking her head, she tried to swallow all the wrong words and find the right ones to explain herself, “It’ll be so awkward after—”

“It’ll be ok.” Bucky assured, giving a light smile. It reached his eyes, making them shine with tender light, “We’ll just watch movies and have fun. I’ll even make you dinner.” Slowly, he took another step back, edging closer to his apartment door. A hopeful expression making his handsome face soft, and sweet.

It didn’t take much for her resolve to crack. Too exhausted and strung out to even put up a real fight. She let out a shuddering breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding in, “I can take the couch then.” With that, Y/N stepped past him and retreated into his apartment. Taking off her boots again, she cursed the weather. Cursed winter. Cursed her landlord. Cursed everything that led her into this position.

Bucky shook his head, going back into the kitchen. Her bag made a solid thunk against the countertop when he plopped it down, “No way, you can take my bed. It’s fine.” She wanted to argue some more but then he was opening the fridge, changing the subject, “I was thinking tacos?” Bucky offered, and she unzipped her coat, throwing it over the back of the couch.

Leaning against the counter, she watched him pull out a thawed pound of hamburger. Then shrugged, “Works for me. Guess this means you’re finally going to cook for me.” She couldn’t help the small upturn of her lips. Every time they were at her house, they usually ordered takeout. There were a few rare times where she made easy stuff. Like hamburgers, mac-n-cheese, or stir-fry. But not all that often. Whenever they first started working together, Bucky never stayed long enough to need food. Once they did start eating together, Y/N didn’t feel like she had enough skill to even try and fix anything for him. It was only recently that she got comfortable enough to try.

“You are a guest, and it is dinner time.” Bucky waved a spatula at her, flicking on his stove. A light blue flame burst to life under the burner. Once the hamburger was in the pan, he used his spatula to divide it into chunks, starting to cook it.

“Anything you want me to do?” She asked, and Bucky shook his head.

“Nah, why don’t you go finish the movie? I’ve got it.” He waved his free hand towards the living room. Then he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, rummaging through some of his cupboards near the stove.

Nodding, Y/N left him in peace. Somewhat relieved that she didn’t have to try and carry conversation. It was getting easier to ignore. The awkwardness fading back just a bit, but it still couldn’t be considered comfortable.                                              

   After dinner, which was delicious, Bucky disappeared with their plates. Y/N relaxed down into the couch, pleasantly full, and continued watching the Incredible Hulk. Since she was staying the night, they might actually make a dent in the Marvel franchise.

Bucky returned with a bottle of scotch and two glasses with ice. He set them down on the table in front of her and she eyed him, eyebrows raised in a silent question. He snorted, lifting the amber and black bottle closer for her to see, “Just thought you might want a drink.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” She asked skeptically but didn’t deny it. She wasn’t much of an alcohol person, even less of a scotch person, but a buzz did sound tempting. Y/N was a happy drunk. The giggly kind, and she liked how it made her feel. As long as she didn’t get too sad. If she got too emotional, then it didn’t go well.

Bucky poured himself a glass, and tipped the bottle towards her own, waiting for the go ahead. Huffing a sigh, she waved her hand towards him. He smirked and filled up her glass, “I don’t want you to get drunk. We’ve just never drank together. Thought it might be fun. A buzz and Marvel movies could be a good mix.” Then he screwed the lid shut and sat the bottle on the table, taking up his drink. Fluidly, Bucky moved back over to his seat on the beanbag, dropping down heavily. Not spilling a single drop.

She picked up her glass, stirring the ice with her finger to try and thin out some of the scotch, “Never been to your apartment either.” She quietly mused, crossing her legs up under her thighs. His apartment ran warmer than her own, but her feet were chilly even in her socks.

“Guess tonight’s just full of firsts.” Bucky agreed, sipping on his drink. They were sitting further apart tonight. Further apart than they had in a while. It made her heart heavy, so she took a drink as well. Bucky didn’t even flinch, and she full on grimaced.

“God it’s awful.” She laughed, shaking her head, lips smacking to chase the flavor away. It made her tongue feel dry and bitter.

Chuckling he took another drink and hummed, “It’s an acquired taste.” His eyes danced with mirth in the dim lighting of the living room, a smirk made his mouth tilt in a sinfully charming sort of way. She had to look away, back down to the melting ice in her glass.

“I think you mean that you drink enough until your tongue goes numb and then it’s not so bad.” Y/N translated, taking another mouthful, and flinching again. It burned all the way down to her stomach. Nose wrinkled, she blinked as her eyes began to water, but she tried to school her expression. Not liking that she could hear Bucky trying to stifle his laughter.

“Try not to let it hit your tongue so much. Come on, haven’t you taken shots before?” Bucky teased, eyes flickering from the TV back over to her. The light made his jaw sharper and caught streaks of his hair, making them almost blue. From her position on the couch, she could still see snow coming down through the window across the room. It glowed like fluttering glitter past the streetlamps. Not slowing at all.

She nodded, focusing back on Bucky, “Ya, some but I always had a chaser.” Her skin was already feeling honey glow warm. A little tingly. It was good scotch. Bucky hummed, the sound of the movie filled up the empty space between them. At least, it was empty if you ignored all the things left unsaid.

Over the next hour, Y/N finished her first glass, and poured herself another. Right alongside Bucky, who refilled his glass a few minutes before her. By then, she could tell she was tipsy. Giggling at some of the terrible humor in the movie, and really at anything at all. Until she found herself watching Bucky more than the movie. If he noticed, he didn’t say so.

By the time her body started to feel flickering warm all over, Y/N didn’t have a clue what was happening in the movie anymore. It was nearing the end, and the apartment was faintly lit from the kitchen. Mostly flooded with the light from the TV. It reminded her of their situation a week before, but she didn’t want to think about that. In fact, she wanted to focus on another problem at hand.

Standing up, Y/N felt her head swim just a bit, but she managed to walk perfectly fine. She wasn’t that far gone. Just the kind of buzz that gave a false sense of bravery, and horrible impulse control. Right then, she couldn’t understand why they were sitting so far apart. So, she closed the few short steps between them and plunked herself down on the second beanbag chair next to Bucky’s. His eyes widened, and he stared at her, snorting a laugh when she grinned cheekily at him. Then she wiggled in the seat until she was comfortable and leaned over to let her head rest on his right shoulder. All without saying a single word and took another sip of her half full drink. It didn’t taste bad anymore.

A few beats of silence passed, and she tried to focus back in on the movie, rather than the obvious fluttering of her heart. From her position, she could feel the strong muscle resting just under the sweater. Bucky finally shook his head in disbelief, the beads rustled as he relaxed back into his own chair, and asked, “Comfy?”

Y/N hummed and nodded, nuzzling against his arm because god he smelt good. And damn if he wasn’t cozy and perfect. Her hand curled loosely against his sweater, thumb rubbing the soft material. Knees up on the beanbag, and her body contorted into a small ball.

When she didn’t offer a verbal reply, Bucky didn’t push. Instead, he shifted his arm until it was wrapped around her shoulders, forcing her closer. Head on his chest, Y/N laughed again at the awkward adjusting she had to do to get comfortable again. Shift till she was halfway on his beanbag and hers. Legs stretched out further to balance, and her hand holding her glass rested up on his waist, other tucked underneath her to stay propped up. His arm around her shoulders, and other hand still holding his own scotch on his thigh. But then everything was flawless. And she didn’t want to ever have to move again.

“Why don’t we do this all the time?” Y/N asked playfully, fingers rubbing nonsensical circles against her glass. She could feel every breath he took, and faintly hear the beat of his heart under her ear. He was so warm and strong underneath her. It was comforting. The credits of the movie were starting to play, and she loathed the thought of one of them getting up to put in another.

Bucky tensed, but didn’t move. He rubbed his thumb against her bare arm. Sometimes it felt like everything he did was the most natural thing in the world to do. Like their relationship had reached a point where it should have been as easy as breathing. If he would just let it. Then he shrugged, the motion jostled her just a little, “I guess cause it’s not really what friends are supposed to do.” Words mumbled and stilted. Awkward. He wouldn’t look at her when he said that, just stared down at the cup in his hand. Metal contrasting against fragile glass. Both glinting in the harsh light from the TV.

Before he could pull back, she caught his wrist and sat up to meet his eyes. Her hand kept his arm around her shoulders, and she only adjusted herself just enough to look at him properly. Their faces were dangerously close, but she barely noticed, “But we do it, and we’re friends, so it can’t be too bad.” Her voice was soft, insistent. Eyes betraying the sadness welling up deep inside of her. It felt like the burning in her stomach was heading up into her throat. His skin was smooth against her fingers, and his arm was a reassuring weight over her shoulders. Bucky made her feel safe. Even when he was breaking her heart.

Bucky whispered her name like she was squeezing the life from his chest and sighed harshly. His eyes darted away from her own, lips pressed into a fine line, “Ya but it’s wrong, and makes things complicated.” He closed his eyes and tapped his finger against his glass, the sound sharp over the TV. She could already see his walls closing, shutting her out again.

“It doesn’t have to.” Y/N shook her head, clasping his hand tighter to try and keep his attention. His callused fingers were rough against her own, and she could see his chest rising and falling faster. Like he was trying to keep himself calm. Still, she pushed, “If it makes you happy, and me happy, and doesn’t hurt anyone, then why is it so wrong?” She spoke quickly, and her voice was starting to slur just a tad. Like her mouth was running faster than her head. The hand holding her drink gripped it tighter. Condensation making her fingers slick. Head tilted, she tried to make him look at her. Suddenly desperate to make him understand.

At that, Bucky did tug away. Stood up and moved a few steps over to the other side of the coffee table. He picked up the bottle of scotch and refilled his drink. Again. His hands were shaking just a tad, and he slowly put the lid back on and sat the bottle down. Then he waved his glass in the air as he tried to explain, nearly sloshing it over the edge, “Because it can’t happen. And that—” He jabbed a finger at the beanbag chair he just vacated, like it was an example, “Will lead to things happening, and nothing can happen between us.” He pointed between the two of them, face flushed, and took another drink. Eyes sharp and glistening, his hair fell across his forehead as he swallowed. Then he carded his fingers roughly through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. He sounded so sure. So stubborn and it just pissed her off.

“Does this make you happy?” Y/N stressed, gesturing between them. She stood up too, stumbling a little when her feet caught on air. Still, she steadied herself, head high, and finished her drink. When he didn’t respond, she sat her empty glass down on the coffee table a bit harder than necessary. It echoed over the music filling up the room with background noise. When had they started arguing?

Frustrated, Bucky groaned and turned so he wasn’t facing her. He shifted his glass to his right hand, knuckles white. Delaying time, he swallowed another mouthful, quiet. His shoulders were tight, the muscles rolling as he clenched his fist. When he glanced back at her, his face was blank again.

Seeing his emotional barricades up again made irritation burn the back of her throat like hot coals.

A whine caught in her chest, and she shut her eyes tight. The anger melted into something darker. Something harder to swallow that had her arms wrapping around herself, and made her shift awkwardly from foot to foot, “Don’t I?” Her tone dropped at his silence, vulnerable and nearly drowned out by the end credits music. Hurt at him shutting down again. Shutting her out again, “Make you happy?” Y/N clarified. Emotions switching on a dime as she stared at his broad back.

The TV cut out to the title page, and he turned, snatching the remote off the table and flicked it off. Then tossed it back onto the table, only for it to clash and skitter off the edge onto the floor. Shadows clung to the room, only pushed back by the small light from the kitchen and window behind her. Then silence pressed in on the room and highlighted all the words not being spoken. Ears ringing in the sudden quiet, Y/N tried to keep her breathing even and to stay quiet. Let him boil in whatever emotions were making him pace between the couch and wall.

In the cluttered space of his apartment, she felt small because he took up so much of it. When he got like this, she could see the soldier. Could see everything he tried to keep in control burning just beneath the surface. All the things he tried to never say. The panels of his left hand hummed and shifted, flexing into a fist and relaxing again when he finally stood still.

Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he brought up his hand to rub at his face, messing up his hair. When he glanced back at her, he grimaced, and exclaimed, “Of course you do!” His eyes were shining bright in the dark, glimmering with bit back pain. Eyebrows pinched and jaw tight, like he was fighting to keep everything in check. Even every perfectly measured breath he took.

“Just not enough?” Y/N asked, still soft and stepped closer. She reached down for the bottle, eyes never falling from his cooled expression, body swaying in a fluid motion as she stood back up. Bucky silently watched her as she unscrewed the top and watched him. Forgoing a glass, she took a drink from it. The edges of the cap bit at her fingers. Desperate to feel anything but what she was feeling right then. Maybe it’d numb her the rest of the way out. Make her pass out, or black out to a point where things just didn’t hurt anymore. With the way things were going it might be nice.

It’d be a blessing. Even for a minute.

“It’s not like that.” Bucky denied, words cracking in his throat at the end. Y/N edged just a bit closer, until they were chest to chest. The bottle brushed against his thigh where she let it swing at her side. She had to stare up to meet his eyes. He finished the last drink from his glass, then stooped to sit his down too. Every movement tickled the air around him and made her skin tingle from how close they were. His shoulder brushed her hip when he straightened back up. Then his hand cupped over her own and he took the bottle from her loose fingers. Forging his glass as well. His touch still burned. He didn’t offer to clarify what he meant. That it ‘wasn’t like that’ didn’t explain much of anything.

Instead of rounding another pointless circle with him, Y/N asked, “Why do you want my painting?” She crossed her empty arms, rocking back on her heels, but not moving from her stubborn position in front of him. Not yielding again. The scotch made her stupid brave, and she was cracking up. The façade she tried to keep up falling apart piece by piece. Part of her understood that this conversation would lead to nowhere good.

That she was tearing everything apart. Messing everything up. Spilling all their rotting issues out between them. Ripping up her heart for him to see as she desperately tried to understand his. But she couldn’t bring herself to shut up again. Too angry and hurt and frustrated and tired.

This had been a bad idea from the start. She should have just stayed in bed this morning.

That jarred him a bit. Bucky snorted incredulously, “Because it’s beautiful, and I love your work.” His full lips wrapped around the bottle and he took a swig. Rubbing at his mouth with the back of his hand, he let out a slow breath. Disheveled, he dropped the bottle back on the table, almost spilling it. The cap still bit at her thumb where she pressed at it. Flipped it around between her fingers. Something to fidget with.

“Do you know why I painted it?” Y/N continued, licking her lips, mouth full of cotton. She rocked back forward, nearly toppling into him, but he caught her shoulders. Steadying her and almost smiling, but it died before it could reach his eyes. Her hands came up to balance herself and she dropped the cap to the floor. It clattered, but neither of them bothered to try and pick it up, “Why I picked the subject?” Her fingers curled against his chest, enjoying the touch and slow to pull back.

Bucky shrugged, shaking his head, hands running down her arms to her elbows before he released her, “You were pretty cryptic about it in class.” He took a half step back, but she caught the hem of his shirt, and stubbornly held onto it. Stopping, he glanced down at her hand, but didn’t force her to let go.

Willing her fuzzy mind to focus, she explained, “It’s about love.” She pressed a free hand to her chest, hysterical laughter bubbling from her as she continued, “It’s basically my heart poured on a canvas.” Y/N tugged at his sweater, voice cracking at the end. Jaw clenched like she could keep her words from shaking, she stepped forward challengingly, “Still want it?” Her bottom lip trembled, but she kept her head high and proud.

Bucky’s voice dropped and sounded rough like gravel when he replied, “Of course.” His eyes held her own, and she ground her teeth, exasperated. Nearly stepped on his toes when she let go of his shirt and threw up her hands, catching her fingers in her hair, yanking roughly.

“I was thinking about you.” Y/N whispered, flinging her hand in his direction, nearly hitting him, “Not just you, but enough. Doesn’t that bother you?” Bucky was quiet, so she continued, shaking her head as the words tumbled out, “It’s about how scared I am. To care about you this much. About how messed up these feelings are, and how happy I was.” The tears were coming now. All the ones she never wanted him to see. They caught in a knot in her throat, making her words thick. Her cheeks were wet, and she didn’t know when she started crying, “And I couldn’t explain it in class because I don’t feel that way anymore. It just hurts.” Her hand curled in the front of her shirt and she clawed at it, like maybe she could just dig out her beating heart and give that to him too, “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault, but I don’t know what to—”

The words were stolen from her lips. Immediately forgotten. Taken the moment she felt his breath against her mouth, and then nothing but soft warmth. His hands caught her wrists from where she’d been wildly gesturing, and he stilled her. Cold metal and warmth contrasting against her skin. He tugged her forward, arms caught between their chests, and his hair tickled her cheek when he stooped down. So much taller than her that he had to duck his head.

Bucky was kissing her.

Y/N’s eyes fell closed, and her lips parted against his. Everything floated still around her. His hand released her wrist, and cold metal cupped her cheek. Confused, she pushed her hands against his chest, pulling back just an inch, “Why? What—” Then he tilted his head and kissed her again. His teeth nipped her bottom lip and he crowded against her. A soft groan caught in her throat, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, stretching up on her tiptoes to be closer. Questions buzzed through her head, but her world was spinning too fast. Everything suddenly felt warm and happy with him anchoring her to the apartment floor. In that moment, she couldn’t imagine to trying to ask him again. Not while he was finally kissing her.

Bucky shuddered when her tongue brushed his top lip, and his fingers curled gently in her hair. Leaving her no room to move away again. For just a second, he broke the kiss, and let his hands rest against her shoulders, thumbs brushing across her neck. He kissed her forehead, and then her cheek, tongue lightly brushing against the tears still damp on her skin. A soft bubbling giggle left her. Relief mixed with euphoria and disbelief left her insides sparkling like liquid gold.

Nearly floating, Y/N fisted her hands in the back of his shirt against his shoulders. Then took a step back, making him follow her. Still bent over but his hands came to rest against her hips. A tender smile spread across Bucky’s lips while a grin made her beam back at him. Every step she took he matched. Never more than an inch apart. A breath of laughter escaped him when she stumbled, nearly taking him down with her.

When she sat on the couch, he pressed her back until he was hovering over her and kissed her again. It’d been a long while since she had a make-out session like a desperate teenager, but everything fell into place with him. It wasn’t hard to remember why she loved kissing.

Not when she was kissing Bucky.

Next Chapter

Tags: @boy-leave @wtfholland

[writingsbychlo]

Frat Boys and Fuck Toys [03]

Author: @writingsbychlo

Word Count: 3081

Notes: Peep me introducing my boy Pietro in this one! Shit will start going down. Also, I feel like i have majorly lost my touch at writing smut, so let me know, because this personally feels very disjointed and crappy. Just feels weird. Please give me feedback on this part. Other than that, there’s not really any warnings (but Steve should have given them a warning ayeee) no but seriously enjoy. I’m sorry if it sucks! I am very ill, I get a pass if it’s awful. Also, my gal Steff proofread this for me, so thank you very much <3.

Your back was slammed into the hardwood, and you fumbled around yourself, desperately trying to find something to hold onto, your fingers grasping the framing above the door you were pressed against. Your head fell back against the wood with a hard thud, but the dull ache was washed away entirely by the pleasure crashing over you in waves.

Your legs tightened around his waist, holding yourself up as rough palms smoothed over your skin, sweaty workout shirt long discarded on the floor, your sports bra having quickly followed. Hot lips wrapped around one of your nipples, tongue lapping over and scratching deliciously at the bud, the other being pulled and played with by smooth fingertips, the occasional tugs causing your body to jump, grinding your core against his.

“Fucking hell, Bucky, you have no self control.” You teased, breathlessly, and he growled against your skin, wet mouth leaving your tits, a moan leaving your lips as he kissed his way back up your flushed skin, growling softly, the sensation causing a layer of goosebumps to erupt along your skin.

“Not my fault, you can’t blame me when you wear fucking yoga pants.” His tone was teasing, and you huffed, rolling your hips upwards into his, enjoying the way his own movements stuttered in response. Letting your hands come down to rest on his shoulders, you took the opportunity to catch his lips with your own, the tip of your tongue running along his bottom lip, begging with him to let you in.

Pulling your frame away from the door, you were quickly dropped onto the mattress, your arms above your head from the impact, a giggle on your lips as you gasped for breath, completely deprived. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you couldn’t help but take your bottom lip between your teeth as you took him in.

The tattered and old tee he wore clung tightly to his body, defined muscles all but bursting through the fabric, you were sure he he flexed too hard the seams would just fucking rip, and you made a mental note to ask him what the deal was with him and Steve unnecessarily torturing you all with their bodies. Loose sweats hung from his hips, having been pushed far down from your legs having been wrapped around his waist only moments prior.

They were pushed so far down, in fact, hairs were starting to peek out of the top of the hem, and you licked over your lips, glancing up at him through your lashes with a slight smirk on your face. “Fuck, doll, don’t look at me like that.” He mumbled, hand reaching behind his head and tugging his shirt off, mussing his hair up slightly and you laughed, letting yourself drop back onto the bed, head resting among the pillows.

“And why not, James?” The sound that left his lips could only be described as primal, raw, and needy. Fingers wrapped around the waistband of your pants, peeling the elasticated second skin from you, and a whine left his lips. “Are you fuckin’ jokin’? If I had known you weren’t wearing any underwear I wouldn’t have let you leave the house at all, doll.” The nickname sent shivers along your spine, the husk in his voice giving you a fantastic sense of arousal and you grinned, rolling onto your knees and smoothing your hands up his chest.

Pulling his lips down to meet your own, you guided one of his hands down to your entrance, letting his fingers swirl through the wetness that had accumulated, a low, rumbling groan leaving his lips. His forehead rested against yours, lip tucked between his teeth as he pushed a single digit into your entrance, only to the first knuckle, enjoying the way your hole was already clenching around him.

“Christ, you’re gonna’ be the death of me.” The words were whispered against your lips, and you huffed a laugh, a moan frantically clawing its way up, but you waited, urging him to do something more, and he complied, pulling his finger out before pushing two back into you, scissoring them slightly.

Gripping tightly at his shoulders, your fingernails dug into his skin, and you could feel the muscles in his arms working as he pumped his fingers in and out of you rapidly, tips brushing against your walls, purposely avoiding your sweet spot as he teased you. Spreading your legs a little further, you let your hips rock down in time to meet his movements, his palm brushing against your clit ever so lightly, but the feeling was sparking along your skin.

He was straining against the material of his sweats, and you tugged them down with shaky hands, his freed cock slapping against his stomach, precum leaking along him and you caught the droplets with your finger, sucking them from yourself as he watched through hooded eyes.

A gasped plea left his lips as you wrapped your fingers around him, grip barely there as you ghosted along his skin, catching at the tip and pulling a strangled moan from him as he thrusted into your hand, losing the steady pace he had on you. Gripping his wrist, you pulled his fingers from you, taking them in your mouth and licking them clean of your arousal, settling on your knees and licking along the underside of his shaft.

His head fell back as his fingers laced into your hair, your own fingers gripping tightly at his thighs. Tracing the head, you pressed into the delicate skin underneath, his grip tightening as he pushed you to do something more, and you gave in, lips wrapping around him fully as he released a relieved and satisfied sigh.

Pushing your head down further, you let him, until his tip was brushing the back of your mouth, your throat tightening, eyes watering as you swallowed around him, before being released. Lapping at him happily, he was reduced to a series of incoherent babbles and begs as you traced the veins on his underside, hand cupping his balls and rolling them in your palm, squeezing lightly.

His muscles were contracting under your palm, thighs tensing and you could tell he was close, and you sucked hard on the head of his cock, hand working quickly over the rest of him, the only words leaving his lips being your name and a series of ‘yes’ and ‘oh god’, hands clenching by his sides.

A sudden knock on the door caught both of your attentions and you released him with a pop, pulling back and looking up at him, the sight almost enough to make him cum right there. As the doorknob twisted, you rolled quickly over the side of the bed, hitting the floor with a thud, moaning loudly at the impact and quickly clamping a hand over your mouth to muffle it. Bucky, snatched up a pillow, covering himself as best he could, heat rising over his neck and cheeks.

“Hey, Buck, I was- oh, shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you’d be-”

“Steve?! What the fuck, dude? I thought you were out, for like, a long time..” Bucky was floundering, and if it wasn’t for the fact that there was literally arousal dripping down your thighs and the chance that precious little Steve might see you, it would have been a very funny situation.

“I-I came home early, the traffic back from the airport with Wanda wasn’t nearly as bad as we had expected!” You were desperate to peek a look over the top of the bed, but refrained yourself, muffling your laughs behind both of your hands, getting a swift but subtle kick from Bucky, which only added to your amusement.

“Airport, what the fuck are you- I didn’t even hear you come in!” He shrugged, one arm gesturing wildly around himself in his panic.

“Yeah, well, you were clearly.. preoccupied!” Steve joked, laughing, and you screwed your eyes shut tightly, desperately trying not to cackle at the situation and the very badly timed joke. Bucky’s face was bright red, a horrified look on his face as he glared at his best friend.

“Get out, punk!” He looked about ready to die, and Steve left, the door clicking shut and footsteps fading down the corridor as he left. Once he was definitely gone, you let out a loud laugh, gasping for breath as you accepted the hand Bucky was holding out for you, letting him pull you to your feet as you fell back against the bed, still chuckling.

“This is not funny.” He stage-whispered, and you nodded, trying to calm yourself, but failing. “You’re only laughing because it wasn’t you. How would you feel if.. If.. if Wanda saw you naked!” He tried, and you only laughed again, hands behind yourself to hold you up.

“But she didn’t. Steve saw you. Hilarious.” You teased, and he cocked an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on his lips. Crawling over you, he settled between your legs, head of his cock pressing against your core, your laugh getting stuck in your throat as he nudged it against your clit, the feeling sending you into and overwhelming internal fire.

“Well that shut you up, real quick.” He jeered, and you stuck your tongue out at him mockingly, his lips wrapping around it, pressing against your own as they parted, mouth meshing together hotly, a quiet whine leaving your lips as you reached between the both of you, adjusting him and letting him ease into you.

Pressing against your sweet spot without even having to move, the feeling of him filling you forced the breath from your lungs, and the feeling of having you wrapped around him so tightly dragged the breath from his. His hand smoothed along your thigh, hitching it up around his waist, so he could sink deeper into you, before letting it drift to the headboard, holding it tightly.

The other sat beside your head, clenched in a fist, weight resting fully on his forearm and he pulled back from you, hips snapping forwards, your body jolting forwards as a loud moan left your lips, his palm immediately closing over your mouth as he stilled, your hips wiggling desperately beneath you as he fixed you with a look.

Your hand closed over his, covering your mouth, as he thrusted into you, the only sound filling the room that over skin slapping against skin rapidly, and your almost inaudible moans filling the room.

Your fingers raked red marks down his back, your tits bouncing beneath you, nipples brushing against his chest each time his hips snapped into your roughly, the feeling sending you into overdrive as you clenched around him. Your other hand slipped between you both, and you rubbed rapid circles onto your clit, adjusting your head and taking his fingers in your mouth, sucking harshly as he faltered, cock pulsing against your throbbing walls.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours tightly, panting into your mouth, containing both of your moans as your body convulsed, his hands holding you down, the mattress squeaking loudly beneath the both of you and he pulled out rapidly, hand working over himself as you knelt before him, mouth wrapping around his head and sucking tightly.

The taste of yourself covered him, quickly overpowered by the hot ribbons of cum splattering against the inside of your mouth, Bucky biting down on his fist to keep quiet as he came, letting you swallow his release and clean him up, quickly falling down onto the bed.

He held his arms out to you, letting you fall into his embrace as he held you tightly, both of you panting rapidly, a thin sheen of sweat settled over your skin. “That was incredibly hot. Minus the part where Steve tried to cockblock me, unintentionally.” He eventually mumbled, a laugh tearing from you as you nodded.

“I don’t know what you mean, I love almost having the patron saint of innocence and softness almost see me soaking your floor.” You retorted, only prompting him to laugh too. Stretching his hands above his head, he turned, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple before rolling form the bed, pulling some fresh underwear and some sweats up his legs.

Chucking your yoga pants and top into his laundry basket, he tossed you a pair of your own leggings from his drawer, and one of his old hoodies, letting you adjust them as you would. “I was looking for these for like an hour yesterday.” You mused, and he shrugged, gesturing to the other random articles of clothing of yours in the drawer.

“Makes it easier for you.” He smiled, and you returned it, letting yourself hold the eye contact with him for a moment or two. He broke the moment, however, by turning his back to you, pulling a shirt over his head.

“Plus, it’s funny watching you run around the house, buggin’ everyone about where something is, when I have it all along.” He winked and you pouted, tilting your head to the side with a huff.

“Way to ruin the moment, Buck.” You flipped him off and he only laughed, holding the door open for you after making sure no one was in the corridor to see you leaving his room.

“We don’t have moments.” He shot back, and you simply nodded in response, pulling the slightly longer sleeves down over your palms, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Meet you downstairs in ten?” He grinned, and you swallowed the strange feeling within you, nodding happily and pulling up the hood of the jumper you were wearing. He closed the door, and you made your way down the corridor to your room, pulling the cosiest pair of fluffy socks you could find from the drawer and onto your feet, wiggling your toes happily and setting off downstairs.

Entering the kitchen, you ignored the excited chatter of your friends in the living room, wandering past to the kitchen and making yourself a bowl of coco-pops. Filling it with just enough milk to wet it, but not enough to wash away the chocolate flavour. Stuffing a spoonful into your mouth, you wandered towards the room your friends were residing in. “In any of you fuckers are in my favourite seat I’m gonna’ kick your asses’.” You shouted, preemptively, taking another large spoonful of coco-pops and chewing.

You all but choked as you entered the room, a disappointed look on Steve’s face, everyone’s eyes on you. You let your gaze drift to your favourite spot, an unfamiliar face looking back at you with a wide smirk. Swallowing your mouthful rapidly, you wiped at your mouth, a bit of milk having been dribbling down your chin.

With a strong look of cheeky arrogance, he stood, holding his hand out to you. “I am truly sorry, princessa, was I in your seat?” He teased, and you took his hand, shaking it and blushing as he kissed your knuckles, winking at you. The accent was a thicker version of Wanda’s, and you looks over at her before diverting your attention back to the man before you.

“Yes, you were, but with an ass as nice as yours I’d hate to have to ruin it. I’ll let it slide, this once.” You returned the wink, a loud laugh in his lips as Steve sighed, Sam all but fell over laughing and Wanda slapped at her relatives arm. “Care to introduce yourself?”

“I’m Pietro, Wanda’s older brother.” He grinned, turning to his sister, who was rolling her eyes so hard you were sure they were going to pop from her skull.

“You’re older by twelve minutes, you egomaniac. Now stop flirting with my friends, especially my best friend.” She sighed, and he gestured to the seat on the sofa you had claimed long ago as your own, but you shook your hand at him, trotting across the room and retrieving a bean bag, plinking it down in the middle of the floor and collapsing into it with your cereal.

“Take the seat, for today only, it gives me an excuse to steal Bucky’s favourite bean bag.” You grinned cheekily, enjoying the slight laugh you got from Steve.

Almost as if you had summoned him, he stepped into the room, having pulled on a pair of jeans, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he and Steve made a conscious effort not to meet each other’s eyes.

“So, who’s this?” He gestured to the man with silver hair who you had recently come to know as Pietro, and his attention was on you, a brow quirked at the fact you were decidedly not where he expected you to be.

“Pietro, he's Wanda’s twin.” You grinned, bringing your bowl and swirling it around again, gathering up a good spoonful of the softening snacks. Bucky sat down on the beanbag with you, rather closely, his arm looped over your shoulder and he pulled you close to him, taking the cereal right from the spoon you were holding, fingers playing with your hair as he spoke to Pietro.

With an eyebrow quirked, you eased yourself away from him, wondering where his sudden want for closeness had come from having literally pushed you out of his room less than ten minutes ago. The chatter in the room continued as members of the house each slowly returned from their day, and you had gathered that Pietro was visiting Wanda, and was going to be staying for a few months, and apparently Wanda nor Tony had decided to inform anyone.

Thankfully for yourselves, Natasha was a clean freak, and absolutely did not stand for anyone leaving a mess around the house. Luckily for you all.

As the evening dragged on, a couple of pizza had been ordered, but you couldn’t shake Bucky, and each time you tried to have a conversation with anyone but him, he was by your side immediately, even so much as to scare away the pizza guy. Helping yourself to another glass of wine, you sighed, rolling your eyes and shrugging his arm from your shoulders once again. Elbowing him away from you, he glanced at you, but you ignored him, walking up to the girls and joining the conversation.

Turning your head at the slamming of feet on the wooden flooring, you barely saw Bucky disappearing upstairs, and you simply shook your head, going back to enjoying the evening.

[scruffandyarn]

That One Time Scruff Wrote an Avengers Fic (part 9)

That One Time Masterlist

Bucky x enhanced!female!reader

Warnings: profanity, physical pain, medical testing, guilt and fear

Thanks, as always, to these wonderful human beans:  @siriuspiggyback (you are the absolute best) @fangirl-library (you kick-ass, wonderful person) @written-loki-imagines (thank you for your fantastical support)  @bkwrm523(where would I be without you in my life) @thejamesoldier (you’re amazing and deserve every good thing) @samingtonwilson (you’re super duper awesome) @invisibleanonymousmonsters (thank you so much for all your inspiration) @feelmyroarrrr (this is all your fault, still love you)

@shirukitsune @electraphyng  @l0kisbitch @yafriendlyfangirl  @marydragneell

Previously: Loki was still sitting in front of you, his arms hovering close to your head.  Except, his skin–his skin was blue.

As soon as he saw your eyes open, he dropped his arms and his skin returned to a normal color.  “We are done.”  He moved to stand.

“Wait!” You grabbed his arm to keep him on the floor with you.  His skin was still cool to the touch, but you held on.  “What the hell was that?  What are you?”

“Explaining my past was never part of our agreement.”  He yanked his arm out of your grasp.  “You have refused to follow my directions.  I will not be helping you.”

“Hold up.  Following your directions was never part of our agreement either.” You glared at him, in spite of your protesting head.  “We made a deal.”

“Very well,” Loki sighed.

Now: Between the meditation Bruce insisted you start practicing and whatever magic Loki was doing to your brain, it took two days before Loki finally deemed your brain relaxed enough to start with the ‘happy place’ shit.  Hell, when you walked out of Loki’s room on that second day, you swore you could almost see the hint of a smile on his face.  Of course, that could have been because he had actually trapped you in upholding your end of the oath.  But, given that his emotions were leaning towards the positive, you chose to accept that you were making progress.

.

“Where are you right now?”  Loki’s voice seeped into your brain.

“The moon.” In your mind, that’s exactly where you were.  Currently, you were sitting on the edge of a crater, your feet dangling, as you looked over the barren landscape.  “No people, no animals--I’m all by myself.”

Forget the mountains.  This was where you needed to live.

But then, you’d be alone.  

With nothing but your thoughts.  

Forever.

The image around you began to flicker and fade out.  “Fuck.” Your eyes popped open and you gasped for breath.

Loki frowned.  “What was wrong with that one?”

You supposed you could understand his irritation.  First, you’d imagined your cabin in the woods, but then a bear came out of nowhere to eat you.  Then you’d tried the bottom of an ocean, only to be met by a giant jellyfish that had wrapped you up in its stinging tentacles.  And now, the moon was proving to have its own nightmares.

“Aliens?” You tried, weakly, not wanting to reveal what had actually scared you.  Although, there was no point in lying--he was the one person who would know when you were.

For whatever reason, though, he let you play it off.  “You Midgardians consider me to be an alien.”

“Yeah, and that’s pretty terrifying all on its own.”

“We are wasting our time if you cannot imagine your brain as a space.”  He sighed.  “Why don’t we end our session for today?  You can spend the afternoon trying to think of a place where nothing will eat you or sting you or whatever about your planet’s moon was scaring you.”

“Fine.”  Your head wasn’t feeling so groovy, anyway.  Maybe after a nap, you could dink around online to find something that could inspire you as a possible ‘happy place.’

Loki watched you, curious, as you grabbed your tablet from its spot next to you on the floor.  After a few quick taps, you knew exactly what you needed to know.

“Guess I’ll be eating a little later.”

“What does that thing tell you?”

“It lets me know if there’s anyone in a particular room I want to go in.  It’s set up with F.R.I.D.A.Y. and she can help me avoid people when my head starts to hurt.”

“At least one of you in this forsaken place has a sense of self-preservation.”

“Fuck!” Yet another place you tried to invision had been completely ruined by some unforeseen fear.  In your frustration, you took your pillow and chucked it across the room.  “What am I doing wrong?”

Nothing was working.  Not the heat of the desert.  Not a cool, dark cave.  Not a boat abandoned in the middle of the water.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“What can I help you with?”

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go to get away from people and scary things?”

“I believe the North Pole is the only place completely devoid of humans.”

“That sounds--”

“Of course, there are many carnivorous animals that live and hunt in the region.”

“Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“And with Global Warming, the polar ice caps will soon be melted and succumb to the ocean.”

“Great.  Thanks.”  You flopped back on your mattress.  Just what you needed to have in your brain right now. Polar bears and freezing like Jack in Titanic.

Relief flooded your veins.  Something was going on because this feeling wasn’t coming from you.  It felt like the greatest weight you never carried was suddenly lifted from your shoulders.  God, you could almost believe you could fly.

“What is going on?” You opened your eyes to see Loki staring at you crossly.  You pressed your hands to your head, trying to stop the lightheaded dizziness.

“I believe the mission is complete.  Which would explain the relief you are feeling.”

The room was starting to spin. “Mission?”  

“You are aware you are at the Avengers’ compound, are you not?” He scoffed.  “The Avengers seem to have this proclivity towards saving this ridiculous planet, so that is where the Captain, the tin soldier, and the female spy have been for the last week.”

“So, when I got angry--”

““Was when the three of them were first given the assignment.”

“And the fear?”

“That was the day they were supposed to be finished with their mission.  It took longer than originally thought.”

“Oh.  Well, I guess that makes sense.”

“Can we focus now?  The sensations you’re feeling aren’t going to go away with all this frivolous talking.”

“Right.”

“You’re a tough woman to find.”

“Steve.” You forced a smile as you looked up from your tea.  “How can I help you?”

He was not sporting any of the bruising you’d spotted on Natasha when you’d passed her in the hall on your way to get something to drink.  Maybe she’d taken the brunt of the physical abuse?  That didn’t really seem like something he’d do, though.  Bucky had told you how Steve had always been a scrapper, even before he got all buff.

Maybe it was a supersoldier thing?  That’d be cool to be able to heal from everything quickly.  Would that mean you could get over all the headaches and nausea super quick?

“--to Bucky?”

Oh shit.  You should probably pay attention.  “What?”

“Stop.” He sat down across from you.  “Why haven’t you talked to Bucky?”

“Steve--”

“He was healed.  He’d been fine for months.  One conversation with you and he’s doubting everything.”

Anger was bubbling just below his calm demeanor.  

“I didn’t--I didn’t mean to do all that.  I promise, it was never my intention to reveal--”

“I get it, I do.  But he needs your help.  He’s been sitting on this for days, questioning if he’s really in control of his mind.  You said you’d meet with him about it.”

“I said I’d try.”

“And have you?  Can you honestly say you’ve tried to talk to him about what’s going on in his head?”

Fuck.  “I don’t know what’s going on in his head.  I can’t get a read on the Winter Soldier.  I just know he’s there.”

“Why can’t you just tell Bucky that, then?  Why hide from him?”

“He’s gonna want me to fix it and there is nothing I can do!”  Your head was pounding and you couldn’t separate Steve’s frustration from your own.  “Do you have any idea what it’s like?  To see people you love in pain and know there’s nothing you can do to help them?”

“That’s called being human, having empathy.”

“No, not like this.  I experience their pain--I live it.  Every bit of it.  I know what it’s like to lose a brother to cancer.  I know what it’s like to have the love of my life sign away twenty years of our life together.  I know what it’s like to bury my child.  I even know all about how it feels to see my best friend on death’s doorstep because he was always so sick growing up.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you pressed on.

“It’s not just empathy.  It’s that ripping out my hair, clawing at my skin, sobbing until I choke heartbreak that drowns me even though I’ve never had a brother die, been married or a mother.  I’ve been afraid that I’ll have to watch you die even though my only experience with that is thanks to Bucky’s trip down memory lane when I was sick and he had to carry me to the lab.”

You’d worked yourself up only to realize you had nowhere else to go with your speech.  No one ever seemed to really understand the burden you lived with.  Pain that wasn’t your own lived and grew inside you.  Trying to alleviate it was always considered selfish because it was never yours to begin with, just yours to suffer through in silence.

“Look, I can’t say I get what you deal with, because I don’t.  But I think Bucky would.  He’s spent the majority of his life the same as you--having absolutely no control.  He knows what it’s like to have his mind at the mercy of others.  And if you tell him that you can’t fix it, he’s gonna accept that because he knows he can’t fix it either.”

The information you’d read about one James Buchanan Barnes came back to your mind and shame started to trickle in.  The life he’d had--the one that HYDRA stole from him and replaced with the worst possible existence you couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Yes, you had experienced feelings that were never meant to be yours.  You’d never wanted them, but you knew them.  But that was it, wasn’t it?  You knew those feelings.

Bucky had spend most of his life not knowing.  Of having everything ripped from him.  Of not feeling anything.

“Fuck.”  

You felt like such a whiny little shit.  Some superhero you were turning out to be--hiding from your problems, refusing to help someone who just wanted to know what was happening in his head.  

Steve should have just punched you in the throat when you started whining and complaining about what you went through.

“I’ll talk to him.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, when I can, I will.”

[paintedface]

my heart is his

summary: lance has always made it clear that one of his favourite things is sex, which leaves you scared to tell him about your sexuality.

pairing: lance tucker x reader

word count: 879 words

warnings: a lil angst, but mostly fluff

notes: this is the second in my ‘pride’ series! I thought that lance would be a really good one to do it with, considering his character. also ahhh, i’m not ace, so hopefully this is okay for y’all who are! 

also, I’m going away to europe in a few days, which is kinda starting my hiatus, but hopefully I’ll be able to queue some things!

Permanent Tags are OPEN | masterlist

You were scared to tell him. Hell, it was one of his favourite things in the world, and you were about to rip it away from him. But you need to tell him sooner rather than later. And if he didn’t want you after that...then that’s not your fault. Was it?

“Hey baby doll, I’m home.” Lance says, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you on the couch, curled up in a blanket.

“Hi.” You say shortly, your nerves almost cutting off your sentence. His eyebrows furrow as he drops his keys onto the hall stand.

“You alright, doll?” His voice changes from teasing to a little more gentle, coming to sit on the arm of the sofa. You tense instantly, because god, you really do have to tell him.

“I…” You pause, tilting your head up to look at him nervously. You can feel stupid tears pricking at your eyes as all you see in his is adoration.

He brushes a stray lock of hair from your skin, his face falling at the sight of tears forming in your eyes. “Doll, talk to me. What’s up?”

You have to get it over and done with before you start crying so hard that you aren’t coherent.

“I’m asexual. I-I don’t h-have sexual attraction to anyone and I hope that doesn’t change...” You trail off when you see his face begin to twist into something you can’t bear to see. Confusion, anger, betrayal, disgust, and your heart begins to pick up.

“I-I’m sorry.” You manage to choke out, before dashing out of the living room and into your bedroom, shutting the door with quivering hands. You didn’t want to see what his expression would develop into. 

Fuck, now he’s gonna dump you, you shut your eyes tight, clutching a pillow to your chest. You love Lance, so much, and it would hurt you so goddamn much if he left you. But you did sort of expect him to be unwilling to let go of one his favourite things in the world - sex.

A few minutes tick by, and there’s radio silence. What if he left already? a niggling voice says at the back of your mind, and you let out a soft sob at the thought.

Suddenly, a quiet knock sounds on the door and you jump, your breath hitching.

“Y/N? Baby doll?”

You sit up straight at the use of your pet name, before you hear Lance clear his throat.

“I...can I come in?”

You nod, before realising that he can’t see you. “Y-yes.” Your voice cracks a little, but he comes in regardless.

He doesn’t look angry, and doesn’t have that expression on his face that you had seen the beginnings of earlier. Lance sits next to you, and doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, to your surprise.

After a few moments of quiet, he tilts your head towards him. “Hey, I’m sorry I made that...that face earlier. I didn’t mean to look like I was disgusted, because fuck, baby, I’m not disgusted at all.”

“Really?” You can’t help but say, and he smiles, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“No, never. I’m just disgusted at myself, for forcing you into doing it when you didn’t…”

You shake your head vigorously. “No, you didn’t force me, Lance. You did nothing wrong, it was me that...that was wrong.”

He huffs, pulling you closer. “Baby girl, you’re not wrong at all. Asexuality is perfectly normal, so is aromanticism and all those other things. I was just a little...shocked, is all.” He gives you a rueful smile, and you can feel yourself relax, every second that passes.

“You seem to know a lot about these things.”

Lance shrugs, hand slowly carding through your hair. “Yeah, well, my gymnastics team is made up of teenage girls, I gotta know some things about it.” He says breezily.

“So...you won’t leave me?” You ask quietly, and you can see his eyes widen as he inhales sharply.

“What? Why the hell would I leave you, baby girl?” His voice is bordering on having an edge, as if appalled by the idea.

You drag your gaze away from his, looking down at your lap. “B-because I don’t really enjoy h-having sex, and that’s-that’s one of your favourite things to do. Also because I’m not...sexually attracted to you.”

“Oh, baby.” He breathes, at the sound of your shaky voice, and he gently kisses your hair. “Yes, I do like it, but it isn’t everything. I’d rather have you, my beautiful girl, than all the orgasms in the world.”

“Lance!” You exclaim at his words and he chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“You get my drift. But honestly, baby, I literally do not care less about sex, when I have you in my arms. You’re more than enough. And I don’t know why you’d think otherwise.” He says softly, pulling off his track jacket to wrap it around your bare shoulders.

“Thank you, Lancey.”

Lance’s smile widens. “Don’t thank me, thank you for telling me, doll. I wouldn’t survive without you.” He kisses you, his lips moving against yours and you sigh contently.

“I think you would.” You breathe, after pulling away.

He shakes his head, grinning. “No, I would not.”

permanent tags (possibly closing): @vibranium-arm​ / @gallifreyansass​ / @omalleysgirl22​​ / @girlwith100names​​ / @buckysinthesinbin​ / @petersneds / @buckyofthemyscira​​ / @iamwarrenspeace​​ / @alohabucky / @cuddlysteven​​ / @buckybarnesappreciationsociety​​ / @debbielovesbucky​​ / @metal-armed-dino​​ / @helloitscrowley​​ / @sebastian-stans-thighs​​ / @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics​​ / @lorna-danee ​ / @feelmyroarrrr​ / @mjuikoli​ / @megan-atthedisco​ / @yoyolovesbucky / @sebbies / @carriefish-er / @jurassicbarnes / @ssweet-empowerment / @shieldagentofthemonth / @palaiasaurus64 / @i-love-superhero / @andiewinneris / @ailynalonso15 / @bywonater / @vanillaicecrusher / @titty-teetee / @breezy1415 / @the-geeky-engineer / @mercedesbarnes / @bioticgoddess / @thewonderfulworldofafangirl / @realgreglestrade / @memory-of-a-goldfish / @amynotsantiago / @bandbooktvaddict / @edgyroses / @buckysmaingirl / @thefridgeismybestie / @cumonbucky / @untimelyideasforstories / @ridingmoxley / @jadalecki-jackles / @peters-vlogs / @em--z / @hdthdthdt / @thefridgeismybestie / @jamie-leah / @heyrogers / @ivy-16-18 / @marvlemarvlemarvlemarvle / @nephilimseb / @saveyourbucky / @wonderless-screwup / @rashinyx2002 / @httpmcrvel / @thunderous-flower / @buckys-newarm / @cordysblog / @swanky-batman / @bythebloodofafangirl / @disneymarina / @whyisbuckyso / @katiekitty261 / @plaid-skirt / @stan-by-me / @samwinchxtr / @mypage-myfandoms / @its-daydreamer23 / @goldenkillmonger / @savonid / @ohhhotstan / @softlysgtbarnes / @perksofeatingbacon / @sweet-barnes / @clever-theorist-painter / @thesergeantandstevie / @hewassortapunkroque / @rosescentedblood / @swtltlmrvlgrl / @thisismysecrethappyplace / @sydm15 / @jitterbuck / @impossiblyteenagestudent96400 / @winters-beauty / @marvel-biatch / @ultimategalaxyprogram / @southsidesserpent / @pamskkyy

(strike through means I couldn't tag you, sorry!)​

[fanficsandfluff]

The Avengers: Comfort, Dance, Fireplace

A fantastic three-word request from @theart-ofsimpleimaginaton 

Winteriron has been her recent obsession, and it’s been my own for a long damn time. I just never had the right content to write really good fics. This isn’t my first winteriron, but this is definitely one of the longest fics I’ve written in a long time. Hope you enjoy!

Words: 3,493

“Hey you,” Tony Stark greeted with a sly smile, waltzing into the rec room to see only Bucky sitting with the television on.

Bucky was sitting with his legs crossed, hair up in a bun, his metal arm draped over the back of the couch. Ultimate comfort position. He turned his head suddenly upon hearing Tony’s voice, a strand of dark hair falling in his face having lost its security in his bun.

“Hi, Tony,” Bucky smiled softly back at the billionaire.

Tony glanced at the TV screen when he walked in and he plopped down directly next to Bucky, ignoring literally every other empty seat in the room.

“What’s this? One of those CIA, FBI shows?”

Bucky felt a blush rise to his cheeks. He shouldn’t be embarrassed about his likes and dislikes, but something about impressing Tony stuck out to him.

“Yeah,” he answered simply, not wanting to draw more attention to the show or his uncomfortable expression.

Tony got comfortable, leaning back into the plush couch, thigh to thigh with the Winter Soldier. Bucky instinctively jerked his thigh away when he felt the touch, but let it fall back into its previous position. Silence. Just great.

Bucky was starting to realize this show’s faults more and more the longer he sat there under Tony’s scrutinizing eyes. He eventually couldn’t take it anymore and he stood up with a quick clearing of his throat.

“Sorry, I gotta.. Here, put on what you want,” Bucky tossed the remote to Tony before leaving in a rush.

Tony looked mildly offended when he caught the remote to his chest.

“Was it something I said?” Tony inquired somewhat innocently, truly not knowing what made Bucky leave so fast. He sat and thought, not changing the channel. As a commercial blared in the background, Tony figured out that he’d never exactly been alone with Bucky before. He’d always been with the group in communal settings. Was Bucky avoiding him? He hoped he knew all that crap was behind them. Bucky shouldn’t be afraid to be near him, even one-on-one. The billionaire playboy let it go for now, stepping out of the rec room. Nothing interesting to do in there anyway.

Bucky had gone off to his room to change into another set of comfortable clothes, ready to head to the gym. It was always his relief when he didn’t feel 100% great. He wrapped up his hand, clad in loose shorts and a tank top. Bucky felt lucky seeing that he was also alone in the gym. He set to work first stretching.

Tony was on his way back to the lab when he passed by the gym. He backtracked and looked at who was actually inside. Upon seeing Bucky, Tony figured a change of plan.

Bucky finished stretching and then moved to lifting weights. He didn’t have a spotter but he figured he didn’t need one.

About ten reps in, a whistle alerted Bucky to someone else’s presence. He set the weight down and turned around, chest heaving from his workout.

“Wow, what’re you benching? 300?”

“335,” Bucky wiped sweat from his brow.

Tony smirked, “You looked kinda lonely in here. I figured I’d stop by and join you. Give you a friend.”

Bucky sighed and he shrugged, “Yeah, whatever you want,” he went to the mats next and started a string of pushups. Tony watched Bucky for a half a second, knowing those flexing back and shoulder muscles were giving him some type of feeling. He ignored it best he could and walked to the treadmill. He never used the damn treadmill. Well, in front of Bucky he did.

They shared a silence, Tony at a simple jog and Bucky grunting with each new pushup.

“Barnes,” Tony began through a pant, “Do I rub you the wrong way or something?”

Bucky fell to his knees and he coughed once, turning over and sitting down, looking in Tony’s direction, “What do you mean?”

“You know,” Tony slowed the speed on the treadmill to a quick walk, “You don’t look super comfortable around me.”

Bucky blushed and he ran fingers through his mop of hair, “What gave you that idea, Tony?”

Tony hopped off the treadmill and approached Bucky, “Oh you know. Wanting to immediately leave the room when I walk in. Not wanting to be alone with me. Just things like that.”

The Winter Soldier tried coming up with an answer, “It isn’t... it’s not you.”

“No? Then what?”

“Tony, please don’t make me--”

“What don’t you like?”

“The way you act,” Bucky blurted out, afraid to look up at Tony standing over him.

“Oh...”

“You’re very uh... touchy. I understand if that’s your personality, but I respect boundaries and you less so.”

“You don’t like my acting comfortable around you?”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“Hey, you should be honored I’m acting the way I do around you, Barnes. Tony Stark doesn’t open up to everyone.”

Bucky chanced a glance up and he was met with Tony’s hurt brown eyes, “I... so... you weren’t trying to annoy me? Purposely? That was you being genuine?”

Tony rolled his eyes and he scoffed, “Jesus, if you have that little faith in me, guess we’ll have to loosen you up a bit, huh?” he chewed on his lip in thought, “Tell you what, tonight. Me and you. We’re going out.”

“O-Out?” Bucky sputtered, now frantically trying to stand up, “Tony, I don’t exactly go out--”

“It’ll be our little date,” Tony winked at the Winter Soldier, “Meet me downstairs at 7, kay, buttercup?” now he was pouring it on overload.

Bucky’s mouth was agape and he was too stunned to combat anything Tony said. And before he knew it, Tony was gone. 

***

Bucky didn’t know what kind of outing he would be having with Tony. But he did know Tony Stark was one to dress up unnecessarily for most occasions. So the Winter Soldier enlisted Steve’s help in lending him some clothes. Steve was able to provide Bucky with a pair of dress shorts and a big dress shirt in order for it to fit over his bulky metal arm. 

“So a date, huh?” Steve grinned at his friend while fixing his collar. 

“That’s what Tony called it. I think he just wanted to hang out with me.”

Steve smiled, “Well, I hope he doesn’t annoy you too much, Buck,” he slapped Bucky’s shoulder with a chuckle. 

Bucky smiled weakly back at Steve and looked at himself in the mirror. He thought he looked pretty snazzy. He just had to do something about his hair. He ventured back to his own room and tied his hair back into a bun best he could, trying to get all those loose strands.  Once he felt he was presentable, he went downstairs to wait for Tony. He prayed none of the other Avengers saw him like this, or he’d die from embarrassment. 

Tony came down five minutes later, in his two piece suit and slightly open button down shirt. Bucky was dressed similarly minus the suit jacket. 

Tony had to pause and then he chuckled, stepping forward. He was eyeing Bucky up and down, “You clean up good, Barnes.”

“So do you. So, where are we going?” 

“All in due time,” Tony got inside the limo waiting for them and Bucky followed. He looked out the window at the bright night lights of Manhattan. Nothing was quite like it to him and it still impressed him after all these years. 

The limo drove on in silence for the entirety of the ride. Bucky had leaned his head against the window and nearly dozed off before he felt the car stop moving. Tony slid out first and waited for Bucky to exit with him. They were in front of a fancy looking restaurant. 

Bucky shifted nervously, knowing nothing good can come out of him eating in a public place looking like he did. He was so changed, and it killed him. Where was his macho, stud persona? The implantation of a new metal limb and years of brainwashing could destroy a man, apparently. 

“Welcome, Mr. Stark. I have your area all set up for you,” a woman who seemed to be the manager of the establishment greeted Tony. And Bucky followed them both into... an elevator? Geez, how big was this place?

They went up about 10 stories and then got off, walking through an empty ballroom before ending up on a balcony. Bucky looked around, smiling softly at the greenery and stone paneled floor in the open summer air. It was beautiful. 

“Here are menus. You’ll have a private server. I hope you enjoy your night.”

And she left. And now it was just Tony, Bucky, one table, and an entire balcony all to themselves. 

“Tony, this is really nice,” Bucky walked up to the edge of the balcony and looked over the gate at the city below them.

“I thought you’d like some privacy. Drink?” Tony came over from a small bar set up outside with them and held two golden drinks in his hands. Bucky nodded and took one, taking a sip. 

Tony smirked, holding his glass out to give cheers but Bucky seemed to just want to drink, “So, how was the rest of your day?”

“Fine,” Bucky nodded, stuffing a portion of his metal hand into his pants pocket. 

“Great. Mine was good, too. Got some upgrades done.”

“Good,” Bucky awkwardly flitted his eyes about before locking them on the dusky night sky. 

Tony took more of his beverage before going over and taking a look at the menus left for them, “Hungry?” man, he was sick of the chit chat. 

“Um, yes,” Bucky walked closer to Tony, “Do they have steak?”

“Some of the best I’ve ever had, yeah,” Tony smiled. 

“Great, I’ll get that.”

Tony shook his head, still grinning. Bucky was something, alright. Tony ordered for himself and Bucky when he summoned a waiter. Small bits of conversation continued, Bucky getting more alcohol for himself. When the food came, Bucky sat across from Tony and they ate. 

Tony could see Bucky’s cheeks staying a light tint of pink, and he smiled at how damn cute that was. The alcohol was probably getting to him and it showed in his face. It failed to show in his mannerisms yet. Yet. 

“How’s the ste--” Tony didn’t let himself finish when he saw Bucky’s plate empty save for one small chunk of beef. And when he looked up, he saw Bucky’s cheeks puffed out, a bit of steak juice dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Tony laughed. 

Bucky swallowed and wiped his mouth with a napkin, “What?”

“Nohothing. I got my answer.”

Bucky smiled softly and he downed his third glass of hard liquor. He coughed after.

“Are you trying to get drunk, Barnes?”

“I can’t,” Bucky shrugged.

Tony remembered that little affliction Steve had and forgot it was shared between both super soldiers. 

“Oh right,” Tony cleared his throat, “So, anything you do for fun? Does the Winter Soldier even know how to have a good time?”

Bucky grinned, “That would require a lot more alcohol.”

“Then allow me to pour you another drink,” Tony took the bottle of whiskey they’d been sharing and poured Bucky another small glass. 

Bucky hummed and huffed a chuckle, downing that easily, cringing afterwards. Tony smiled at him and had no shame in staring at him for a few extra seconds. 

Bucky shut his eyes and swayed in his chair slowly, Tony noting he was moving in sync with the slow music floating from inside the building. He bit his lip while considering what he was about to do. Screw it, he could get away with it. He was Tony Stark. 

The billionaire tugged on Bucky’s arm, “Alright, get up.”

Bucky rose a brow but stood, “Did I do something wrong?”

“I’m gonna teach you a thing or two about having a good time,” Tony looked up at the slightly taller man. He pulled Bucky in by his waist and entangled his fingers in Bucky’s. The Winter Soldier was at a loss for words, but he could’ve sworn Tony started dancing with him. 

Bucky had no choice but to move in tandem with Tony. 

“Loosen up,” Tony admonished, giving Bucky’s waist a gentle squeeze, “You’re stiffer than Cap in the snow.”

Bucky huffed out a genuine laugh at both the comment and at the squeeze aimed at his side. 

Tony saw Bucky’s smile and felt it was time for more drastic measures. He swayed with Bucky more along to the soft tune wafting out from inside. When the music swelled, Tony honest to God dipped the Winter Soldier. Bucky went down with a gasp and he stared up at Tony wide-eyed. 

Tony fell even more for this man, seeing his heated cheeks, wide eyes, and now loose strands of hair falling in front of his face. He pulled him back up, knowing their faces were intentionally closer than before. 

Bucky’s lower lip hung open and a fire lit up in his lower belly. Holy shit no. He couldn’t be falling for Tony Stark, could he? Dammit. 

Tony guided Bucky’s hips as they stepped in time to the music. This was the longest goddamn song in the history of the world. 

“I’m gonna spin you now,” Tony warned. Bucky was still unprepared but flowed as graceful as he could when Tony let him go and spun him on the tips of his fingers. Bucky chuckled softly, embarrassed yes, but also having a damn good time. Tony smiled at Bucky.

“How do you feel?” 

“Great,” Bucky breathed and smiled genuinely. 

Tony heard the music drift off until there was silence and only the noises of New York City with the two of them. 

“James,” Tony used Bucky’s first name instead of his last, “You know when I said this was a date?” 

Bucky stood at arm’s distance apart from Tony, “Yeah? And?”

“Oh it was. It totally was.”

Bucky grinned and he stepped forward, “Do you want to kiss me, Tony?” he asked outright. Tony rose both brows and he grinned almost stupidly. 

“Yeahah. Yeah, very much. I just wanted-- mmph!” 

Bucky pressed his lips to Tony’s before the other could stop him and they meshed together perfectly. They moaned at the same time. Bucky caressed Tony’s arm and slid his hand up until he was cupping his cheek. Tony wrapped both arms around Bucky’s waist. 

Needless to say, they went back to the Towers happy, Tony a bit tipsy and Bucky supportive. 

“Nohoho, let’s not show everyone how drunk you are,” Bucky chuckled as he walked Tony into the elevator and stood as they ascended the many floors of the towers. 

“But why noot?” Tony pouted, “People like me when I’m drunk. ‘M tons of fun.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “I saw you crazy drunk once and I wasn’t a fan.”

Tony stuck out his lower lip, hurt that Bucky would ever say that. The Winter Soldier carted Tony out of the elevator and walked him to the appropriate bedroom. Stumbling and giggling like kids, they finally arrived at the intended destination. Bucky felt Tony slip off his shoulders and he watched the billionaire genius flop onto the bed and groan. Bucky chuckled, dark locks finally slipping lose from the hair tie and draping the Winter Soldier’s face. 

“Tired?” Bucky asked with a smile. 

“Mmmhm...” Tony grumbled back. 

This was the first time Bucky had been in Tony’s bedroom. And holy crap was it way nicer than his own. He had his own bathroom complete with tub and shower, a small kitchenette, a fireplace, and a huge TV. 

“Alright, well... why don’t we get you more comfortable, hm?” Bucky went by the bed and he bent down, starting to untie Tony’s shoes. He figured the man was too wasted to do it himself. One shoe off, then the other. The problem laid in removing Tony’s suit jacket. 

“Noho! Stohop touchin’ mehehe!” Tony giggled childishly, squirming around whenever Bucky tried slipping the jacket off of him. 

Bucky found it endearing and he scoffed, “Well, what do you want me to do? I’m not even touching you.”

“Yehehes you ahahare,” Tony squeaked when Bucky gave a particularly hard tug. He soon got it off and Bucky wiped his brow.

“Jesus, you’re hard to work with,” Bucky admonished playfully. 

“‘M not. Just a little ticklish,” Tony rolled onto his stomach and hugged a pillow to his face. Bucky’s lip twitched. He walked over to the fireplace and found out how to turn it on so it was soon ablaze. It gave off such a comforting glow and a cozy heat. Bucky turned around to see Tony basically asleep, mouth slightly agape as his breathing became soft. The soldier pouted, not wanting this night to end. 

He tiptoed over and sat on Tony’s bed, gently nudging his back, “Tony. Tony, come on, don’t sleep yet.”

“Mmm..”

Bucky laid down behind the billionaire and nuzzled into the back of his neck. Tony shuddered and a surprised giggle was ripped from his lips. 

“Nohoho...”

“You’re that sensitive?” Bucky tippled his fingers up the bend in Tony’s waist, to which the shorter male yelped and tried curling up. 

“Buhuhucky!” 

Bucky grinned, enjoying Tony’s bubbly laughter probably more than he should. He was able to worm his hand underneath Tony’s partly untucked shirt and scratch away at the soft tummy. Tony was already at the level of cackling, tossing his head back and laughing with pure mirth in his eyes. 

Bucky blamed part of Tony’s extreme ticklishness on the alcohol, but he really hoped this didn’t change things too much. Having Tony this susceptible to even the lightest touches was precious. 

“St-Stop! Stohohop I cahahahahahan’t! B-Buhucky!” Tony wheezed when the tickles went on for too long for him to handle. Bucky left him alone with some remorse, wishing he could hear that laughter forever. 

“Gohohod... is it warm ihin here? Or is it just me?” 

Bucky grinned, “Well, you were just squirming and laughing. But I turned the fireplace on, too. Thought it seemed more romantic.”

Tony calmed down from his giggle fit and he looked at Bucky. He smiled and scooted over, kissing Bucky on the lips, “You’re right. It’s totally romantic. You know what’ll make it even better?”

“Mm? What?” 

“Hearing you laugh,” Tony purred in Bucky’s ear, and even as discombobulated as his drunken self was, Tony was still on top of his tickler game. He laid on top of Bucky and was able to attack his sides with vicious kneads nonstop. 

“AHA!” Bucky squeaked when he first felt those fingers. Steve was the only one who knew he was ticklish and now that became two people to know. Bucky tried to resist squirming, afraid he’d hurt Tony if he swung his metal arm in the wrong way. 

“SHIHIT! Tohohonyyy! Hahahahaha!” Bucky laughed, snorting when Tony really got to massaging his ribs. 

“Got any good spots?” Tony slurred, grinning with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. He explored higher up on Bucky’s ribs and started to notice a pattern. Bucky laughed harder the higher up Tony went, and he seemed to be protecting his underarms at all cost.

To allow him to let his guard down, Tony ceased his wiggling fingers and withdrew them from Bucky entirely. 

Bucky panted, arms falling limp at his sides, “Thihis is so unfair.”

“It will be in a second,” Tony smirked and he dove in, able to stick one hand in Bucky’s armpit and the other as far to the metal arm attachment as possible. And oh what a sweet spot he found in both those areas. Bucky bucked like a bull and screamed. 

“What a ticklish little soldier,” Tony giggled, somehow imagining that to be a real funny line. 

When Bucky begged for Tony to stop, the billionaire did so. He plopped next to Bucky instead of on top of him and smiled broadly at him. 

“J-Jesus... it is hot in here,” Bucky breathed.   

Tony laughed and he started to undress himself, “We can get a bit more comfortable.”

Bucky was wary at first when he saw Tony so willingly get stripped down to his boxers and an undershirt he had on. But the shorter one’s happy face put Bucky at ease, and he soon undressed into his own boxers and tank top undershirt. Clothes tossed to the floor, Tony snuggled up to Bucky. 

“I had a great night,” Bucky whispered and kissed the top of Tony’s head.

“They’re all gonna be great nights now,” was Tony’s response, eyes already shut and ready for sleep. 

Bucky blushed and he giggled to himself. He couldn’t help it. He fell asleep cuddled up to Tony after watching the fire in the fireplace dance around. They were just the right amount of cozy and warm. Things were perfect. 

[junker-town]

Every Marvel Cinematic Universe villain, ranked from forgettable to iconic

Photo by Dia Dipasupil/Getty Images for ReedPOP

From Malekith to Loki, we covered them all.

All week, we’re having a little fun and diving into the world of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU). The MCU exists thanks to endless battles between our heroes and the villains that torment them. Some of the villains — hello, Vulture — are fantastic. They’re well-rounded, they have depth, and there seems to be a method to their madness.

Then there are the other villains. Their backgrounds aren’t particularly explained, you’re not entirely sure what they’re doing — looking intently at you, Malekith — and motivations seem weak at best.

As part of our Marvel Week, we took the 26 primary villains from the 23 MCU films and ranked them from 1-to-26. Warning: THERE ARE SPOILERS BELOW, so act accordingly. Let’s get to it.

26. Ivan Vanko (Iron Man 2)

Be honest. The only thing you really remember about Ivan Vanko is when he said “I want my bird.”

25. Aldrich Killian/Maya Hansen (Iron Man 3)

This movie had far too many plots, and therefore far too many villains. There’s one point in the movie where it’s revealed that the Vice President is in on Killian’s plans, and then it’s not mentioned again. Surprise! Maya Hansen is actually bad. Surprise! The Mandarin is an actor! Surprise! The VP is in on it! I need this movie and its collection of villains to do a little less.

24. Zemo (Captain America: Civil War)

Zemo’s motivations are clear — he is driven by his rage and sadness over losing his family in Sokovia — but he’s little more than an accelerant to get the real conflict of the movie going between Tony Stark and Steve Rogers.

23. Emil Blonsky/Abominable (The Incredible Hulk)

The only really nice thing that you can say about The Incredible Hulk is that the fight scene between Abominable and Hulk is pretty cool. Tim Roth is high key the best part of this movie.

22. Kaecilius (Doctor Strange)

Dormammu didn’t have enough screen time for him to be ranked here, but we do get Mads Mikkelsen’s Kaecilius. The fight scenes are awesome, but I spent a lot of time wondering if he was going to start weeping blood.

21. Malekith (Thor: The Dark World)

Malekith? More like Male-kiss-my-ass, amirite? Sorry, trying to delete.

20. Johann Schmidt/Red Skull (Captain America: The First Avenger)

Red Skull is the most cartoon-like villain of the movies, but there’s still something about the first time he rips that Hugo Weaving face off. Also, being a Nazi gets you an automatic top-20 spot. This dude was evil.

19. Ava/Ghost (Ant-Man and the Wasp)

You could make the argument that “The Feds” are actually the villain in Ant-Man and The Wasp, but for our purposes we’re just going to go with Ghost. Ghost is visually a stunning villain as she phases in-and-out while simultaneously kicking serious ass. She’s not higher up on this list because she’s actually ... not a bad person and is instead trying to find a way to end her crippling pain.

18. Yon Rogg (Captain Marvel)

Wow, they really cast the MCU well. Jude Law is the perfect smarmy guy that you think is on your side til you realize that actually he’s a psycho and is trying to kill an entire group of people. Captain Marvel is more about the origin story for Carol Danvers and less about the villains, so not much to write home about with Yon Rogg.

17. Justin Hammer (Iron Man 2)

What a jerk. This guy just stinks. It doesn’t make him much more of a compelling villain, but he’s the perfect insecure guy that isn’t as smart or creative as his competitors. He brings on Ivan Vanko, gets him his bird, and basically lets a murderous mad man easily take over his whole fleet of replica Iron Man robots. His ambition coupled with the “I will literally do whatever to get that government contract” vibes moves him up this list a little.

16. Ultron (Avengers: Age of Ultron)

I might be alone in this, but I found Ultron far too boring to be a super compelling villain. He goes from zero to murderous in a matter of seemingly seconds, and he is really only saved by James Spader delivering a stellar performance with voice work. The movie actually gets better upon rewatch (especially after watching Infinity War and Endgame), but Ultron just doesn’t do it for me villain-wise. His motives felt rushed and under-explained, and there are far too many monologues.

15. Lieutenant General Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross (The Incredible Hulk)

Don’t be fooled. Lieutenant General “Thunderbolt” Ross is 100% the villain in The Incredible Hulk. On the annoying-but-not-that-bad end of the spectrum, he’s an overbearing dad trying to interfere with his adult daughter’s dating life. On the other end, he directs soldiers to open fire TWICE in areas infested with civilians. First, they have an open-field battle ON THE CAMPUS OF A COLLEGE. In the third act, when trying to track down Abomination (a creature he helped create, mind you), Ross has a helicopter — with his daughter on board — shoot at what appears to be an apartment building in Harlem. This man would not only NOT be the Secretary of State later (he makes a reappearance in Captain America: Civil War among other films), he would be in prison for war crimes.

And this dude tries to arrest the Captain America side for not signing the Sokovia Accords. This guy sucks.

14. Mandarin (Iron Man 3)

They really could have done so much more with The Mandarin, especially considering they got Sir Ben Kingsley to play the role. Kingsley is really the only thing that saves this performance, going from a cruel, murderous terrorist to gassy, beer swilling fool in a moment.

13. Supreme Intelligence (Captain Marvel)

ANNETTE BENING IN A BOMBER JACKET!!! Bening plays both Dr. Wendy Lawson and the artificial intelligence being that rules the Kree, but it’s her turn as the latter that gives us some pretty intense evil. Let Annette Bening play more sinister characters, imo.

12. Ronan (Guardians of the Galaxy)

Maybe it’s because I remember Lee Pace as Ned from the quaint 2007 TV drama Pushing Daisies, but I loved this performance of Ronan. He’s shadowy enough that you still get that air of mystery about him, but he’s also just straight-up a mad man.

11. Darren Cross/Yellow Jacket (Ant-Man)

This guy literally goes into the bathroom at work, melts Frank into a small glob of former human, then WIPES HIM UP WITH A TISSUE AND FLUSHES IT DOWN THE TOILET. The biggest of yikes.

10. Obadiah Stane (Iron Man)

Obadiah Stane wanted to run Stark Industries so badly he helped orchestrate a kidnapping of Tony. Some good came from that — namely the creation of Iron Man and all the tech that went with it — but Stane also did some super dastardly stuff. The betrayal of a guy that looked up to you after his father’s death is one thing, but all the war profiteering is just too much.

Oh, and him yelling at and firing William Riva (AKA Ralphie from A Christmas Story) for not being able replicate Stark’s arc reactor leads to Riva joining forces with Quentin Beck in Spider-Man: Far From Home. It’s like a coaching tree of villains.

9. HYDRA/Alexander Pierce/Dr. Zola/Rumlow (Captain America: The Winter Soldier)

Those backslashes are doing a lot of heavy lifting here, and honestly this collection (HYDRA) could have been a little bit higher as they have a lot of tentacles (pun intended) in a lot of places. Robert Redford as Alexander Pierce is one of the best castings, and the “elevator scene” is perfection that somehow gets even better in Endgame.

8. Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes (Captain America: The Winter Soldier)

IT WASN’T BUCKY’S FAULT. Cap’s best friend in the whole wide world, Bucky Barnes, was somehow rescued after plummeting from a moving train, frozen, un-frozen, and brainwashed to become a brutal assassin. While Bucky is a hero, Winter Soldier is a war machine (no, not THAT War Machine) that even murdered Tony Stark’s parents. Big yikes.

7. Ego (Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2)

The mystery around Peter Quill’s father spanned both Guardians of the Galaxy movies before we got Kurt Russell dramatically riding around on the top of a spaceship as Ego in Vol. 2. It doesn’t take long to realize something is super fishy, and that that something is Ego spreading his seed — literally — on multiple planets in the hopes of creating a part-god child to help him take over the universe. Quill turns out to be that offspring, but he is able to break Ego’s spell when Ego TELLS PETER HE GAVE HIS MOM CANCER. That’s messed up, man.

T5. Quentin Beck/Mysterio (Spider-Man: Far From Home)

T5. Adrian Toomes/Vulture (Spider-Man: Homecoming)

I don’t know what it is, but the solo Spider-Man stories have gotten two of the best single-movie villains so far. Michael Keaton’s Toomes is perfection as the arms dealing, jet-pack wearing Vulture, but the added depth of him being the father of Peter Parker’s crush is fantastic. They manage to establish him as a guy with a somewhat relatable story (he’s just trying to make things work!), and the car scene between Keaton and Tom Holland is one of the best moments of the whole movie (and top-10 in the MCU).

Beck is low-key horrible. Anyone who tricks poor, sweet, grieving Peter Parker is on my shit list automatically, but Jake Gyllenhaal plays it so well. All Peter wants to do is tell MJ he has a crush on her, and he gets duped into fighting battles and handing over Tony Stark’s glasses. If that wasn’t enough, Beck literally shoves him in front of an oncoming train and leads to Spider-Man’s identity being leaked.

He does give us J.K. Simmons’s J. Jonah Jameson back, though. That’s a point in his favor.

4. Killmonger (Black Panther)

It was really difficult to rank these top eight or so villains. All of them have intense back stories or more character development than we got in the early movies of the series. Michael B. Jordan’s portrayal of Eric Killmonger in Black Panther was fantastic, and delivered some of the most meme-able moments of a villain (IS THIS YOUR KING?!).

While the rage and hurt felt by Killmonger over his father’s death is understandable, his actions as the movie’s antagonist are brutal.

This scene is so powerful:

3. Hela (Thor: Ragnarok)

The long-lost sister of Thor has some serious family issues. She’s absolutely ruthless, crushes Mjolnir (and therefore Thor’s spirits for a bit), and has an admittedly very cool wolf pet. Cate Blanchett knocks it out of the park with her portrayal. Hela is horrible and evil and also kind of badass, which shoots her up these rankings.

2. Loki (Thor/The Avengers)

Ah, the anti-hero. Loki is a pretty terrible dude most of the time, but he has his moments of actually doing the right thing. He’s petty, jealous, and the most untrustworthy person in the MCU. In Thor, he tries to kill his brother several times. In The Avengers, there’s the whole opening a portal in the sky to let the Chitauri in to kill a bunch of people and destroy half of New York thing. Oh, and don’t forget about when he faked his death, pretended to be Odin, and was content to hang out on Sakkar with the Grandmaster without helping Thor escape the gladiator-esque games.

1. Thanos (Avengers: Infinity War/Endgame)

We get glimpses of Thanos’s lilac tinge in a handful of the MCU movies, but he’s clearly the pièce de résistance of the culmination of Phase Three with Infinity War and Endgame. Josh Brolin plays the genocidal maniac perfectly, even leaving some viewers after Infinity War saying, “you know, Thanos might have a point about how we’re destroying the planet.” He’s willing to kill billions of people on countless planets to get a little peace and quiet, and is the reason we lose a lot of characters we really care about.

Thanos gets the benefit of a multi-movie arc to explain the full extent of his cruelty, ambition, and willingness to do anything (including kill his own daughter) to achieve his goals.

[mcutrio]

Movie Date [10]

Movie Date [10]

Tags: @buckys-little-monster @imaginesofeverykind

That next day, Kat and Thor found themselves awkwardly attracted to one another. The situation that had taken part the day before left them feeling somewhat strange whilst talking to one another, especially given that their relationship was nothing more than mere strangers, or rather… coworkers. They got along well, their powers complemented one another, and though they may agree that one another was attractive, it wasn’t particularly a relationship that either of them had considered pursuing. Tabitha and Courtenay, in a whirlwind of both new found and old love, perhaps got a little too swept up and found themselves dragging Kat along in the drift.

However, she was willing to go along with it. For as long as she would last within the team, as much as she already seemed to be dwindling, she decided that she might as well have some fun with it.

She met Thor in the kitchen and dropped a Chinese menu pamphlet in front of him, spinning it so that he could read it.

“Now this right here is pure heaven in your mouth,” Kat announced, tapping the leaflet with her hand. “And as sad as it is, you have a much larger meal selection considering you eat dead animals. But… if we’re going to show you what food to eat, then this is where to start.”

“Right,” Thor said, looking at the pamphlet and flicking through it for a moment, “what, so you just summon them with this special code and they arrive at your residence with the food?”

“Something like that,” Kat nodded, grinning at his naivety towards earth and mobile phones. However, he wasn’t particularly that far off, which humoured her the most. “And once we’ve tried enough food to feed a small village, I’m sure I can throw in a couple lessons on cell phones and the like.”

“Cellphones?” Thor questioned. Kat lifted her mobile. “Ah, the devices you and your friends can’t seem to look away from. What’s so interesting about them?”

“Uh… it’s like an all-knowing book that also allows you to contact friends?” Kat shrugged, unsure as to how she should explain it to him.

Thor almost laughed. “I find that hard to believe.”

“You come from a world that we had no idea even existed, Thor. Why is it that a mobile phone has you stumped?” Kat shook her head, scrolling through her contacts. “We’ll catch up on this. For now, decide what you want to order later tonight.”

“A feast,” Thor mused, skimming over the words as Kat pulled up FaceTime and called Tony, who was nestled away somewhere in one of his science-tech rooms.

“What do you want, Buffy?” Tony questioned, flipping up his eye-guards.

“I have a proposal to make,” Kat began, reaching for the notepad that she had doodled on out of boredom only to spit out a couple of neat innovations.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Kat, we’ve already been through this. Bruce and I are together, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

“Whatever, laser-brain,” Kat rolled her eyes, lifting the notepad to show Tony her sketches and well-thought out tech. “I think we both know that Court’s glasses are in dire need of an upgrade. Her focus has been getting worse; she’s been complaining about hearing electronic white-noise, too. Stops her from sleeping at night.”

“Oh, for sure,” Tony nodded, “bring your doodles down to the lab and Bruce and I will give it the once over, though I’m sure I can concoct something to help her out.”

“Awesome,” Kat nodded, “speak later.”

“Ciao.”

Just as she pocketed her cell phone and notepad, Steve appeared from beyond the doorway with a somewhat calm, somewhat on-edge smile.

“If you’re here to lecture about me skipping out on training sessions, I--”

“No, that’s not why I’m here,” Steve smiled. “I’ve been thinking a lot recently, and you’re right. The training is fairly pointless for an individual like yourself, which is why I’ve found a sparring partner that might actually be able to keep up with you.”

“The only person who can even measure up to me is Thor-- oh, right, fantastic,” Kat nodded, sucking on her teeth and placing her hands on her hips. “You know, Steve, I never pinned you as the cupid type. Why’s everybody so obsessed with the idea of him and I, anyway?”

“You both deserve a win,” Steve teased, before becoming serious again. “But seriously, I think this could be good for you. You’re good with combat, though you could get even better. Think about it; what happens if Hulk decides to make an appearance, and this time not for the better? We can’t always rely on Thor, considering he has a Kingdom in outer space to run.”

“Alright, Steve, I get it,” Kat silenced him, though nodded with a smile. “You had me persuaded at Thor,” she joked, shooting finger-guns at him. “See you tomorrow morning.”

“I’m counting on it,” he shot back.

Meanwhile, Tabitha seemed persistent in teaching Bucky how her PlayStation worked, and though the assassin may be skilled and knowledgeable of many platforms of technology, he was completely dumbfounded when it came to gaming.

“I just don’t understand how I-- just how do I make it go,” he complained, turning the controller over in his hands incessantly. “And why is this man just walking-- oh, there he goes, off the cliff. Who the Hell is this guy?”

“His name is Sam Drake; and it’s not his fault, you controlled him to walk off!” Tabitha laughed, snatching the controller away from him before he caused the team to lose.

Courtenay’s character, Chloe, came bounding round the corner and a chortle of laughter could be heard from her room as she witnessed Bucky’s failure before Tabitha took control again.

“Let me show you how it’s done,” she said, cracking her neck. Bucky was completed phased out, unable to comprehend the game as Tabitha and Courtenay managed to pick up the win between themselves, even after the rest of the team had left the game considering how confused the Sam on their team appeared to be. “See? It’s not that hard.”

“I don’t understand how you ever had time to practice this stuff,” he grumbled.

“What do you mean?” Tabitha frowned, “we had plenty of free time, you know. When we weren’t on missions… this is what we were doing.”

“Living the life, huh?” Bucky grinned. “But, yeah, video games aren’t for me.”

“I’ll make a gamer out of you, just you wait,” Tabitha insisted.

“Alright. Let’s make a deal,” Bucky offered, to which Tabitha held her hands out, gesturing to appeal to her. “If I play through this whole Uncharted thing, I get something in return.”

“Oh, yeah, like what?” Tabitha mocked.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, though a grin remained stretched on his lips. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Tabitha caught onto his tone and socked his shoulder. “Don’t be so dirty.”

“I actually didn’t say anything. These are your words, not mine,” he grinned, turning to face her.

“Oh, is that right? It didn’t cross your mind for just one second?” Tabitha irked.

Bucky made a noise, telling her that he had, in fact, had his mind stuffed somewhere in the gutter.

“I knew it!” she laughed, leaning back onto her elbows.

“To be fair, you were thinking it too,” Bucky negotiated, collapsing onto his back before turning to look up at her as she propped herself up beside him. “Right?”

“Shut up,” she laughed, hand upon his face, feeling the stubble beneath her palm and fingertips.

“So you were?” He teased, “look, I’m just trying to have my point proven here--”

Tabitha cut off him off with a firm kiss, one that had been well-earned after their days of tension after their first one. She retreated with a smile, smoothing her thumb over his cheekbone as the two lay, breathing quietly, staring at nothing but each other.

At that moment, Tabitha's phone buzzed with a notification. She pulled it out from her back pocket and inspected the screen, seeing a text message from Kat that she’d shot into the group chat of herself, Tabitha and Courtenay.

1 New Message From: Original Three

Kat: don’t want to alarm you guys or anything but thor and i are totally eating chinese food in his room rn !!

Tabitha: no way, really??

Courtenay: see this is why im the greatest friend, i swear. This is all because of me and you better name your first child after me

Tabitha: dibs being the godmother

Courtenay: that’s fine, i wear the pants anyway. Ill make a fuckin fantastic godfather

Kat: he’s currently gorging on prawn crackers so im sneaking a text any chance i get because HOLY SHIT IM SO NERVOUS

Tabitha: chill its just thor!

Kat: that’s the whole point! It's! Just! Thor!!!!!!!

Courtenay: just be yourself and all that jazz, i mean he thinks ur hot when ur fighting and you look pretty sweaty and gross then so. Can’t really mess up now can u

Kat: thanks, very comforting

Tabitha: seriously, though. Just be yourself. Maybe a little nicer because you’re a grumpy little shit but yeah, be yourself.

Courtenay: make a move before he does

Kat: HE JUST SAID HE’S NEVER EATEN IN THE BEDROOM AND I ALMOST LAUGHED BC THAT SOUNDS SEXUAL

Tabitha: that was your chance to make a move, kat. Please tell me you used it to your advantage

Kat tossed her phone aside to avoid detection as Thor, face-full, grinned over at her, seemingly in an even happier mood than he was before.

“I’m really glad that this is happening. You know, you really need to consider your life choices,” Kat laughed, “perhaps when you return to Asgard you should make Chinese food a thing?”

“No, no, I definitely agree,” Thor grinned through a forkful of chow mein noodles. “My friends would enjoy this thoroughly!”

Kat eyed him suspiciously, looking at the metal trays that he had managed to finish. “Is that your fourth tub?”

“Of much more to come,” he winked, taking another bite.

“Where does it all go?” Kat laughed sincerely, her face pink with her fullness and contentment.

Thor flexed his arms. “I cannot let my mortal form grow weak, for there is a lot to sustain.”

She laughed again, leaning her head on her hand. “If anybody from earth said that, I'd think they were insane.”

“Do you not think of me in that way?” Thor asked.

Kat, pressing her lips together to suppress her smile, shook her head. “No.”

“Then what do you think of me?” he asked, his voice noticeably softer this time.

Feeling a surge of confidence, she traced her hand over the pattern on his black shirt. “I think that you are…”

“Yes?” Thor encouraged, eyes sparkling as she lifted her head, dangerously close now.

“I-- I think that--”

Her voice stuttered with the proximity of the two before they suddenly jerked apart in surprise, the door slamming open with an excitable Courtenay bursting in.

“Hey, guys! Oh, am I interrupting something?”

Kat stared at Courtenay with a look of confusion, a surge of desperate annoyance on her face alongside it.

“Oh no… I am. I heard that there was Chinese food, you know, and I just couldn’t resist…” Courtenay edged forwards, taking a small bag of Chinese fries and backing out of the room again. “Again, so sorry…“

Finally, Courtenay left and shut the door behind her. Kat rubbed her forehead, feeling a mix of shame and agitation, though holding it all in and scooping up her laptop that she’d brought in earlier to play music whilst herself and Thor ate their food.

“How about a movie?” She offered.

Thor's expression deadpanned, telling Kat that he was unsure of what they were, too.

“Moving pictures? A bunch of actors and actresses portraying a scenario?” she offered, trying to see if that would lure any understanding out of him.

“Oh, like theatre?”

“Yeah, sort of,” she agreed, realising with relief that she was somewhat getting through to him.

Kat pulled her laptop between them, booting up a movie she thought that the two of them would be interested in. Their lives were exciting enough that plenty of action-movie plots were dull, so she settled with Jurassic Park as she was sure that Thor had never seen dinosaurs before. However, after the battle in new york, and even Sokovia, she wouldn't be surprised as to what hid away up in the galaxy.

Thor wasn’t particularly subtle now that two two had had some time together, and he threw his arm around her shoulder and held her close as they watched the movie intently. Although he was partially confused, he found himself enjoying the moving pictures so much so that he didn’t immediately realise that Kat, exhausted from her full belly, had fallen asleep on his side.

He almost didn’t know what to do, in fear that he would move too abruptly and wake her from her slumber. He shut the laptop and placed it on the floor, lying still on his back. He was hardly tired, though he daresn't move. Instead, he looked down at the practically unconscious figure next to him, wondering where their relationship now stood. It was apparent that the two of them were near kissing until Courtenay interrupted, and he was certainly leaning towards it. He felt a great deal for her; he respected her in battle and in normality, though the two were one in the same for her. It was… odd.

With a smile, he clicked the lamp off by his side and closed his eyes, holding her tighter against him as he, too, fell asleep.

[lbmisscharlie]

@havingbeenbreathedout tagged me in her 11 questions thing lo these many years ago (it seems), and I finally had some time to finish her fantastic and thought-provoking questions.

1.      What is the last book you read that you couldn’t put down, and why?

A queer book club I recently started going to picked A Map of Home by Randa Jarrar as our pick for June, and I LOVED it. It’s an immigrant coming-of-age story, queer and frank and with a really sharp and interesting voice. I’ve been meaning to put some key quotations up here for y’all, because I know some of you would really like it.

2.      What is the last book you started, that you stopped reading, and why?

I picked up the first volume of Princess Jellyfish on recommendation from someone in that same reading group, got a couple pages into it, and then looked again the dense brick that’s just volume one and made myself put it down. I’m not even keeping up with comics I’ve already been following; I didn’t want to add another big series to the list right now.

3.      Talk about a thing that bothers you in a piece of media you love.

The first thing that came to mind is the absolute perfection that is The Hour and the fact that it ended without telling us what happened to Freddie and without more of Lix’s backstory. But that’s not really its fault, I suppose.

4.      Talk about a thing you still love in a piece of media you generally dislike or which you at some point “broke up with.”

Oh, god, the answer to this is obviously Sherlock, which I have watched all the episodes of but mostly can’t stand now. While I was definitely drawn in by the flash and glamour and prettiness, the thing that kept me around was the subtlety of movement that Martin Freeman brought to his portrayal of John. He was always able to communicate so much through the most minute of gestures of expressions, and it worked so well in contrast to the generally bombastic atmosphere of the show as a whole.

 5.      Talk about a piece of fanfic that changed or deepened your perception of a character in, or other aspect of, the source material. 

This is totally and deservedly a fandom classic: Nonymous’s Into that Good Night, which shifted my fundamental perception of Bucky and particularly Steve into a focus on their loneliness – I think I recc’ed it to @loveisofthebody with something about the “fundamental loneliness of being Captain America” and I stand by that. Not just because of the super-soldier, long-life, man-out-of-time thing, but also because there’s such a solitary sense to his righteousness, a constant underlying awareness that any choice he makes might, in fact, leave him standing alone – and yet he’ll still make the same choices, again and again, if he thinks they’re the right thing to do. It’s definitely informing the way I write Steve now.

6.      Do you have particular articles of dress or manners of self-presentation that you use as “battle dress” (i.e. to bolster your self-confidence when you’re facing something nerve-wracking, or when the world feels like Too Much)? If so, what are they?

Oh yes! I have one Perfect Dress that I’ve worn to every single academic conference at which I’ve presented these past four years; I feel absolutely killer in it. It’s a knit sheath dress in a grey snakeskin textured ponte, fits close to the body, has a high but wide neckline and short, non-binding sleeves, and is just professional enough to work but not so plain that I feel bored wearing it. On a more everyday basis, I usually slap on lipstick on my way out the door/in the car/on the bus in order to feel totally put together, even though I don’t wear any other makeup. My perpetual favorite is Revlon balm stain in Smitten.

7.      What is your fidget toy of choice, if you have one?

If I’m wearing a necklace, I’ll adjust the chain, pull on the pendant, flip open and closed the locket all the time. I sometimes have to stop myself from doing it when I’m teaching, in fact!

8.      Talk about a thing you made that turned out close to how you imagined it.

My mind is on sewing because I’ve not had time to do any this past month, so probably this wool and linen shirtdress that I made over spring break. I’d been holding onto the vintage plaid wool for a while, waiting to find just the perfect project, and I’m so pleased with how it all came together – especially my perfect pattern-matching on the bodice front!

9.      Talk about a thing you made that came nowhere near how you imagined it.

I do have plenty of sewing mishaps and things that don’t translate well to my body, but I think this is also probably true of most of the long fic I’ve ever written. I don’t usually outline, and all of the long fic I’ve written (Fill Our Mouths With Cinnamon Now, Into the Dark Stream, the current Still the Walls Do Not Fall monster) have started with the intention of being much shorter. This is one of those places where they turn out differently because I shift directions, I hone my intent, and create plots rather than just character studies as I go rather than at the beginning – I’m mostly happy with all of them, but they’re not what I expected. However, that does mean I’m starting to figure out how to change up my process and am in the very beginning stages of outlining what will (hopefully) be my next novel-length thing, after I finished a few short things in the interim. Outlines! Plots! What madness!

10.   What are your go-to methods of getting to sleep/combating insomnia?

HA. Hahahahaha. Would that I had one. I’ve suffered from insomnia since I was a tiny child, and mostly my not-at-all recommended way of dealing with it is to stay up late doing things until I’m so exhausted I have to sleep, then trying to sleep in on the weekends. F-, would not recommend.

11.   When you dream, do you tend to experience the action from your own point of view, the point of view of a character in the dream who isn’t the same as you in your waking life, or as if you’re observing the action at a remove (as if you’re a “camera” rather than a character)?

From my own point of view, but usually with a sense that I’m not really choosing the actions I’m doing, just sort of floating and doing things that are either predetermined or caused by others in the dream. Which, honestly, usually leads to horrifying nightmares that are less about scary physical things and more about things that I accept as totally normal within the dream but are in fact deeply disturbing.

Thanks for the questions, hbbo! Since it took me this long to answer, I am not going to delay any longer in making me own -- but if any of you want to answer her questions, as well, please do!

[deasn]

Avengers fanfiction part 2

Let me repeat it: this is the first fanfiction I ever wrote in English, which is not my first language - please forget the mistakes :) And let me know what you think about it!

This is part 2, part 1 is here :)

A crazy scientist had the great idea to try recreating a dinosaur, mixing his genes with the ones of some kind of bird - it had to be that way, because the result was more like a dragon than anything else. Great. Really. The alarm made them suit up and go before they had the chance to ask Alex what he meant. Even if it was pretty obvious. Steve sighed and made sure the scientist was in SHIELD’s hands, smiling at Tony who was taking care of the press, helped by Natasha. Thor was waving at everyone he found cheering and Clint was collecting every arrow that had survived the fight. Bruce was already on the Quinjet, with tea in his hands and a blanket on his shoulders. Steve was tired. And curious. He wanted to go at the Tower, and above all he wanted to find out what the kid meant. What happened. “Home,” he started saying. “We should…” Tony grinned at him. “Not a word, Cap. Pepper will be here in two minutes. She’ll handle everything and we’ll be back home.” It was, of course, Tony’s house and he had all the rights to call it “home”… But the fact that Steve thought about it in the same way caused him to have chills all over his body. “Friday?” he called. “Miss Potts will be here in… Now, sir.” So they went back to the Tower, where Bucky, Jane and Darcy had stayed to control Alex and Rey. They found them on the couch, watching the news as their lives depended on it, and when they realized the Avengers were there - hair still wet from the showers - Alex and Rey jumped on feet, looking at them with a relieved expression. “You’re okay,” Alex murmured. He seemed surprised and so, so happy… It made Steve’s heart break a little. “You doubted us?” Tony joked. He bent to look for his whiskey and Steve had to keep himself from droling. “Actually… Yes.” Everyone went quiet. “We’re dead,” Natasha stated. Clint was still on his spot, while Darcy, who was probably twitting something, lowered her cellphone. “Oh,” she mumbled. Bucky walked at her side and touched her arm, winking when she looked at him. Steve frowned - he never realised that… He was an idiot. How could he not see… Natasha caught his eyes and chuckled. Bucky and Darcy?, he tried to tell her silently. “I think we should all eat dinner and then go to sleep. We can talk about it tomorrow,” Bruce proposed. “No way,” Tony answered. “Friday has already ordered pizza, so in a few minutes we can eat - while we talk about the other universe.” “Tony, I’m curious too,” Bruce admitted. “But we have all the time in the world.” “No, we haven’t,” he argued. “I mean, yeah, but com’on!” “There’s not a lot to say,” Alex groaned. He was holding his sister and Steve felt that, for once, he was doing it for himself and not for her. “You okay, son?” he asked. Maybe he shouldn’t have. Maybe he should have stayed quiet - because Alex’s entire body tensed and his eyes got filled by tears, those kind of tears that come from a man who never allows himself to cry. His sister moved without a breath. She hugged him from the side and kissed his cheek, almost climbing him to reach it. She closed her eyes when Alex hugged her back. “Sorry,” he murmured, repeating himself louder. “It’s just… We’ve been alone for years. It’s strange to be… I don’t know, it’s just strange to have someone ready to take care of you. Expecially you, guys.” “It’s okay,” Bruce smiled. “We understand.” “I doubt it,” Alex continued lowly and only Steve and Bucky, with the enchanted hearing, were able to notice. “Okay, so, HYDRA?” Tony grunted, pizzas now in his hands. They sat and started eating in a curious silence, waiting for an answer. It was undeniable that the kids were immediately more tensed and it wasn’t hard to understand the reason. Tony said they chose the most damaged world, the most damaged people… None of them could ever forget what the kids had been trough. “I don’t really know where to start. I guess… I guess we can start from you. From here,” Alex murmured. “There was a cradle. You,” and he looked at Tony, “created a crib, a cradle. It was meant to hold a fetus for nine months… Until the baby was ready to… Be born.”

Tony was astonished. A baby. He had wanted a kid? Did he wanted a kid? They cry and they smell… And he would never, ever be a good father. He didn’t even know where to start! Steve patted him on the back. “Breathe, Tony.” “Keep going, son,” he smirked to Alex, who blushed. “One day, years after you built the cradle, HYDRA got into the Tower. They were inside the SHIELD, so I guess it wasn’t really hard for them…” his voice faded, as he was lost in his memories. “They stole a bunch of stuff. You were more worried for other things, but in the end… In the end it was the cradle, that gave more problems. They change it. An engeneer, Hammer, change it for HYDRA.” Natasha was writing something on a Starkpad; maybe a report, Tony thought. He was glad he had proves that this conversation had happened. “HYDRA’s attacks got worse. More victims, more damages. Then un-Clint disappeared.” Everyone looked at him and Clint froze, pizza in his mouth and his hands, and eyes wide open in shock.
“W-t a- ho-?” he asked. “He means “what and how”,” Natasha supplied. Rey was nodding, sad. She looked as she was about to talk, but she stopped almost chocking on her words. So she can talk, Tony thought. “How did it happen?” Steve inquired. “We don’t know for sure. He, Daredevil and The Thing disappeared in a month… Then Ultron appeared.” The room got filled by silence. No one was sure what to say, how to react… But Tony had to. “I create it,” he murmured. “Not HYDRA. I mean, at least in this world - I created Ultron. It’s my fault.” Rey and Alex looked at him like he was a ghost. Then surprise was took over by sadness. “I caused a lot of-” “No,” Alex hissed. “No way. Not in our world, not for us. You didn’t, you…” there was panic in his eyes - and in Rey’s too. She was having difficultes to breathe. “Rey, Rey! Relax,” Alex almost shouted, taking her chin between his hands. “It’s okay, he’s…” “Ultron’s been taken care of. There’s nothing to worry about,” Natasha reassured them. She moved foward, looking at the kids’ eyes with an unreadable face. “Wait. You mean Ultron is… Dead?” “Yeah,” Steve smirked. “With Vision and the twins’ help we managed to destroy i-him? It? Anyway, we almost lost Pietro, but his dad arrived with the X-Men just in time.” Alex’s face was full of shock - and happiness. “He’s okay,” he whispered. He then bit his lips and lowered his head. “Good. I mean. Glad to hear that.” He looked like he was trying to convince anyone that he didn’t really care, - not more than the necessary - but all the Avengers were able to say that he did. His smile was screaming in joy. “Yeah, so… Ultron’s dead. Tony - with Bruce’s help,” Steve added, refusing to look at any of them, “made a mistake, but we fixed it.” The kids looked so relieved it hurt to look at them. Rey, in particular, had her mouth slightly open. She was trying to talk again - and they all wondered how her voice would have been. But she did not speak; it was a painful scene to watch. All Steve wanted to do, at that point, was hold her and make sure she was okay. However, she was looking at Tony, tears in her eyes. “You okay, kiddo?” Tony smirked. Food was already finished and forgotten, and he had some cables and electronic pieces in his hands. He was playing with them, incapable of being still. She shot his fingers a look and, probably with all her courage, she took every little piece and started twisting them around. “Ultron’s gone,” Alex was repeating. When the concept finally got under his skin, he turned to talk to his sister… And found out she had built a little robotic eagle; it moved its wings and Rey smiled, delighted. “You’re good,” Tony nodded. She blushed and hid her shaking hands - but almost everyone noticed it anyway. Tony studied the eagle and, after a thoughtful moment, he gave it to Steve. “It suits you,” he smiled. Alex looked very conflicted for a second, before sitting back on the couch and smiling sadly. “The story isn’t really… Well… Superheroes started disappearing, day after day. And then…” “Then what?” Jane asked. “Then Ultron and his army showed up with Cyclops’ powers. Then with Mr. Fantastic’s.” “He took the abilities of everyone he kidnapped?” Bucky murmured, making sure he understood well. Alex nodded. “Kidnapped. Tortured. Experimented on.” He took a deep breath. “One by one.” “After six months, only few of you were still here, still fighting. Then…” he choked and shot a look at his sister, who was shivering, hands covering her face. “Let’s say that… Your body,” and he nodded to Tony, “was found. Only Nat, Bucky, Bruce and… Steve were alive at that point. I mean in the Avengers.” Rey patted her brother’s arm and made him look at her, moving her right hand as it was a needle. “What?” Jane asked, uncapable of stopping herself. Thor smiled behind her back. “Yeah, right. HYDRA - or Ultron, they were connected - found a way to separate Bruce from The Hulk,” Alex mumured. He blushed from discomfort. Everyone was quite for a second. Then chaos started. “How is it possible?!” someone shouted. “Someone created… Bruce, let’s go to the lab!” “I’ll call Fury. If HYDRA knows how to do that, we have to know.” “Guys,” Bruce smiled sweetly, stopping everyone to talk even more. “There’s no need. I don’t… I don’t want to have hope when in our world it’s impossible to…” “It is not,” Rey smiled. And her smile broke down in shock. She covered her mouth with a hand, while the other clenched on her brother’s arm. “You talked,” he murmured, shocked as she was. “Y-you talked! You haven’t done that in years, years! I ca-can’t believe it. You talked!” he shouted, jumping on his feet and forcing Rey to stand up as well. He hugged her and danced and laughed, and it was so full of joy that it made everyone smile - or, in Darcy’s and Steve’s case, hide the tears. “Talk again!” he  ordered her. “Please.” She stopped smiling at that. It’s simple, Steve thought. That “it is not” she blurted was totally unexpected, and just because she finally said something it didn’t mean she was now able to fully talk. Whatever made her silent was still there - it just broke down for a second. “Why don’t you try again tomorrow?” Bruce proposed, still impressed and full of doubts at the same moment. “You really think you can help me?” he asked. After few moments of silence and doubt, Rey nodded. Then she shrugged, as to say “at least I’ll give it a shot”. “If someone can find out a way, that’s Rey. And she studied some of HYDRA’s and Ultron’s files,” Alex smiled widely. They shared a look and he bit his lips. “The least she can do is try.” Bruce eyes were filled with tears when he turned his face, doing his best to hide them. “Impressive,” Tony giggled, amazed. Those kids were awesome… But how could she create a new serum, how could she be that smart?! “What’s your IQ?” he blurted. Alex answered for her. “Couple of points less than yours.” “And what about you?” Tony asked. Steve shot him a look that said “no one cares, IQ isn’t all”, but Tony ignored him as a good Stark would have done. “Not quite as much,” Alex admitted, “but still pretty good. I’m just… Not really into those things. I’m more of a… Tactical kind of clever.” “Isn’t it funny?” Natasha smiled, looking at Bucky and Clint, who both turned so fast they almost snapped their own necks. Bucky grinned when Alex blushed so much he became as red as Tony’s suit, while Clint was using ASL to talk to Natasha without speaking. Unnoticed, Rey and Alex started to hold each other’s hand, breaking apart just in order to yawn. “Why don’t you two go to sleep, and finish your story tomorrow?” Steve smiled, patting Alex’s knees and winking at Rey. “Wait, what?” Tony exclamed. “You can’t send them to bed! We want to know!”
“You made them come here from another universe, Tony! They need to rest. They’ll tell us tomorrow, no rush.” “You kidding?!” “Tony…” “Okay, fine!” he looked at the kids, who were biting their lips as in an attempt to control themselves. “He spoils all the fun.” Alex and Rey laughed quietly. They all went to bed soon after that; the only one who didn’t go to sleep right away was Natasha. Standing still in the darkness, she hid her smile and kept thinking.

Part 3

[scruffandyarn]

That One Time Scruff Wrote an Avengers Fic (part 4)

That One Time Masterlist

Bucky x enhanced!female!reader

Warnings: profanity, mentions of medication (including antipsychotic medication), medical testing

Thanks, as always, to these wonderful human beans:  @siriuspiggyback (you are the absolute best) @fangirl-library (you kick-ass, wonderful person) @written-loki-imagines (thank you for your fantastical support)  @bkwrm523 (where would I be without you in my life) @thejamesoldier (you’re amazing and deserve every good thing) @samingtonwilson (you’re super duper awesome) @invisibleanonymousmonsters (thank you so much for all your inspiration) @feelmyroarrrr (this is all your fault, still love you)

@shirukitsune @electraphyng

Word count: 1778

Previously:

“Can you tell me about what’s going on in my head?” Bucky looked up at you.  “I thought they were able to fix everything up there in Wakanda.”

Shit.  And his hopeful expression…was he trying to break your heart?

“Can we do that later, maybe?  I have a feeling it’s gonna be a long conversation and I have to meet up with Dr. Banner after this.”

“Um, sure.” That was definitely apprehension rolling off of him.  “Maybe you and I can meet up whenever you’re done?”

“Maybe.”

Now:

Bruce wasn’t the only one waiting for you in his lab.  You were introduced to Dr. Helen Cho.  Bruce had already explained what you could do as well as the medication you took and its side effects.  Her energy was positive and she was excited.

“We want to start with a brain scan.  To examine any physiological changes in your brain between when you’re on your medication and when you’re not.  We’ll wean you off of them and then after that, it will take approximately two weeks for your medication to be completely out of your system.”

“Um, okay?  Look, if any of this makes me uncomfortable, I’m allowed to stop, right?”  Two weeks with no pills?  Could your brain handle that?  “I’ve never been more than a day without my meds and...I’m not sure what could happen.  I know what I was like before I started taking them and it wasn’t great.”  

She offered you a sincere smile.  “Any time this gets to be too much, just say the word.”

“Thanks.”

The two doctors ushered you into a room with a machine that looked to be a CAT scanner.  You’d had to endure one as a child when your parents were concerned with all the headaches and all the mood swings you were getting.

“Did you take your medications this morning?”

You nodded.  “I wasn’t sure what kind of tests I’d be doing.  Is that a problem?”

“No, I’m just going to ask that you cut what you’ve been taking in half everyday until you’re down to one, and then stop.  I have a feeling you’d like to avoid any withdrawal symptoms.  If it gets to be too much, we’ll have to taper off slower, so just let us know how you’re doing each day.”

“Definitely.”

“We’re going to be taking some blood today to check for any side effects from the Clozapine.  We’ll check your urine two weeks after you’ve stopped taking the medications to make sure they’re all completely out of your system.”

“Great.” Your smile was weak.

After the initial scan, your blood was drawn.  Then you were put back in the scanner and asked to read both of the doctors’ emotions.  They wanted to see if there was a difference in brain activity when you were actively reading people and when you weren’t.  

“Are you okay if we bring Tony and Pepper in?” Bruce smiled down at you.

“Yeah, but why?”

“You mentioned last night that you can’t shut it off.  We’re going to have you watch a nature documentary with them in the room to see what happens with your brain when you’re not trying to read people but they’re in your vicinity.  The nature documentary should provide enough distraction so that they are not your main focus.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

He nodded.  “F.R.I.D.A.Y., please inform Tony and Pepper that we need them in the lab.”

“They are on their way, now.”

“What the fuck was that?” You panicked, trying to figure out where the hell that voice came from.  You were already on edge with the testing, and now this?

“That was Tony’s A.I.   F.R.I.D.A.Y.  She’s in every room of the house.  Just speak and she’ll be able to help with whatever you want to know.”

“Oh,” you blew out a sigh, your adrenaline dropping.  “Um, hi, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. isn’t human.”

“There is nothing wrong with extending polite courtesies, Dr. Banner.” The AI spoke again.  “Hello, Emoticon.”

“Emoti what?”

At that moment, Tony and Pepper entered the room.  “Emoticon--or I could switch it to Emoji--keep it hip.  At least I think that’s what the kids are calling them these days.  I should check with Peter.”

“Why is F.R.I.D.A.Y. calling me that?”

“You read emotions.  Ergo, your superhero name should reflect that.  Actually, I think I prefer Emoji.  I’ll have to program it in later.”

“I’m not a superhero.”

“You help keep Pepper safe.”

All Pepper did was smile and nod at you.

“Can we just get this over with?” You didn’t want to argue with Tony and you certainly didn’t want to be doing these tests longer than necessary.

“Absolutely.” Helen handed you a funky looking pair of glasses.  It kind of resembled something La Forge would wear.  “You’ll watch that nature documentary with those.”

“Right.”  You settled the thing over your eyes and laid back on the bed.  “Ready whenever you are.”

As soon as the bed moved you into place, the video began to play.  David Attenborough was narrating, although you weren’t exactly sure how you could hear him telling you all about how majestic the leopard is without headphones.

Even watching the leopard drag it’s kill up a tree, you could still pick up the emotions of the people in the room.  You knew someone was feeling amazed and someone was feeling fascinated--probably the two doctors who were analyzing your brain activity.  You felt someone’s excitement and someone’s curiosity.  And you also read someone feeling worried.  

Wait, was that right?

You continued watching as the mother leopard nursed her young cub and tried to put it out of your mind that there was an unidentified person in the room.  But when had you ever been able to put someone’s emotions out of your mind?  Maybe the worry was piggy-backing off of the curiosity?  But it didn’t feel like that.  It definitely felt like there was a fifth person in the room.

Fuck, you were starting to get a headache.

Just as you were about to call off testing for the day, the bed moved and the video shut off.  The scan was over.

As you sat up, you looked around the room.  Four people were present--the same as when the test started.  But you still couldn’t shake the feeling that someone else had been in the room.  Was still in the room.  

And you were pretty sure you knew who that person was.  “Bucky?”

Slowly, Bucky stood up from being crouched behind a desk on the far side of the room.  He was still feeling worried but now with an extra layer of sheepishness.

“I am impressed.” Dr. Cho grinned at you.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Thought you were supposed to be the world’s deadliest assassin.” Tony clicked his tongue at Bucky.

“Tony.” You glared at him, hoping the tone of your voice would get him to drop it.

“For the next test--”

“Can I be done for the day?” You looked up at Bruce.

“We really do need a baseline for everything we’re measuring.  If we postpone until tomorrow, it will only extend how long we’ll be running tests.” Helen jumped in.

“Can she come back later?” Everyone turned to look at Bucky.  “I mean, can’t she take a break for a little while?”  

You picked up his discomfort immediately.  He must really not like being the center of attention.

“How many more tests do you need done today?  Surely, she can come back later.” There was Pepper, always looking out for you.

“I think we can get by with just one more scan for today.” Bruce shook his head at Helen when it looked like she was about to protest.  “You did tell her she could stop whenever she wanted out.”

She blew out a sigh.  “That’s right, I did.” She looked over at you. “I’m sorry.  I guess sometimes I get ahead of myself when I’m really excited about something.”

“You’re really excited about my brain scans?”

“I’ve never seen brain activity quite like yours.”

“I’m not really sure if that’s a compliment or not.”

“Definitely a compliment.” She smiled.  “Will one more scan be okay?”

“Yeah.”  You flashed Bucky a weak smile.  You appreciated that he’d been looking out for you.  “What do I need to do?”

“Well, we’re going to scan you but none of us are going to be in the room with you.”

“I can still read you outside of the room, it’s just not as strong.”

“Not a problem.  We’ll head to the elevators and see how far away we need to be.  Just let F.R.I.D.A.Y. know when you can’t pick up anyone and she can start the scan.”

“Um, alright.”

One by one, they filed out of the room. Pepper was definitely concerned about you and you were pretty sure Bucky was too.  Slowly but surely, each presence faded from your mind.

“Uh, F.R.I.D.A.Y., I’m good now.  Everybody’s gone.”

“I will start the scan now, please lie back.”  

Having no one else in your head was nice.  Maybe this was what you needed.  Total isolation.  Maybe a place up somewhere in the mountains where you could be a recluse.  Maybe you could get a dog for company if you decided you needed any.  Their emotions were simple.  And all you had to do was to meet their needs and love them and they would love you back.  You’d have positive vibes around all the time.

But then you couldn’t work for Pepper if you were up in the mountains.  Sure, she could do conference calls, but those were harder to do, and they wouldn’t work all the time.  And it would mean you were hiding.  If Tony Stark thought you were a superhero--but superheroes didn’t hide from their problems.  They faced them and they solved them.

Maybe all this testing could solve yours.

As soon as the scan was complete, F.R.I.D.A.Y. let everyone know it was clear for them to return to the lab.  Only Bruce, Helen, and Pepper came back.

“How are you feeling?” Pepper sat down on the bed next to you.

“My head hurts.”

“I can go grab your--”

“I--I’ll be alright.  I’ve got to wean myself off of them.”  You sat up and cringed at the stab of pain behind your eye. “Then I get to go without them for two weeks.  Might as well start now.”

“Are you going to be okay…” Pepper looked at the two doctors.  “She gets headaches if she goes hours without her pills, and you want her to go without them for two weeks?”

“It’s just to get it out of her system.  Once it’s out, we’ll be able to see how her brain functions without interference from the medication so we can figure out a better way to regulate it.”

“Are you sure this is what you want?  When I suggested that they could help you, I didn’t realize you’d have to go without your meds.”

“I’m gonna at least try.”