#bucky probably got an apartment with an especially nice view of the city just for her

[rusted-soldier]

I am guessing that Alpine’s paws never touch the ground unless they have to. Going out with Bucky? In his jacket. Hanging out at home? In his arms. He’s getting her food? He lifts her onto the windowsill with her food bowl so she can see the skyline. Going to sleep? Bucky is carrying her to his bed. That cat is spoiled and Bucky has no intention of stopping.

[limitless-mind]

Meeting

Looking out the window, Tony tried to stop the blurring of the trees by focusing on just one until it disappeared from view. Soon enough, the constant back and forth of his eyes became tiring, but there wasn’t much else to do. He wished he could nap, take advantage of the quiet atmosphere in Ms. Hill’s car and make up for all of the sleep he didn’t get last night, but of course he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Not after the last time he fell asleep in the car. 

Ms. Hill was quiet in the front seat, but he could see her eyes in the rearview mirror every five minutes. Just a quick glance, sometimes lingering. Making sure he still looked okay. Ms. Hill was always nice to him, always had a smile when she came to see him and talked to him all nice and soft like Jarvis and Ana used to at home. Last night Ms. Hill’s smile was wrong. She smiled with her mouth but her eyes looked so sad. Tony knew it when he saw her. Sad eyes meant he was going away again. Sad eyes meant disappointment. Disappointed that he couldn’t behave again, that he said something disrespectful or touched something he wasn’t supposed to or wasn’t paying attention like he always did even though he tried, I swear I tried this time. Sad eyes meant his foster parents didn’t want him anymore, and he had to pack up his bag and go to meet new strangers and be on his best behavior so that they would keep him this time. 

Tony didn’t really want to leave this last house. It wasn’t that bad compared to the other ones. Mr. and Mrs. Lakely didn’t lock the fridge like his second foster home did, and they weren’t tired and stressed and snippy from too many kids in the house. He had to do chores in the house and they watched that he did his homework and he was only allowed one hour of tv a day and the computer was only for schoolwork and he shared a room with two other boys because the apartment was just a touch too small, but Tony didn’t mind all of that. But they had their own kids, their real kids, so Tony should have known not to get his hopes up. Especially after all the incidents in the short two months he’d been there. 

Tony looked down at his hands at the thought. He wished he knew why he was like this. Why he was such a problem child, like his second foster mom, the really really mean one, had said to him all the time. None of the other foster parents had said that, but Tony knew they must have thought it too. Why else did they all end up sending him back?

The Lakely’s were Tony’s fourth foster home, and the shortest stay he’d had so far. The first one, with old Mrs. Hendricks, was probably the nicest he’d had. Tony had had his own room there, just like at his real home, and Mrs. Hendricks would cook a huge dinner every night. She only had one other foster kid, Beth, so it was always quiet and calm there. Beth was a lot older than him, but she was nice and played with him sometimes. She shared her colored pencils with him whenever he wanted. But then Mrs. Hendricks fell one day and Beth had to call 911 and they had to go to the hospital in the ambulance with all the lights and loud noises and Beth was crying and Tony was so so scared of hospitals because there were germs everywhere that could make you sick and sometimes people died in them. Ms. Hill and another social worker had come to get Beth and Tony that night to pack their stuff and go to new homes. He was sad to leave Mrs. Hendricks’ house then, but he was happy when Ms. Hill said she hadn’t died. He didn’t want another dead parent. 

There were two parents in this home, Ms. Hill had told him this morning at the group home. They were both men, though. Tony didn’t know how that really worked at the home, and he wasn’t really sure he wanted to. Dads, real ones or foster ones, never worked out that well for him. 

He couldn’t stop picking at his cuticles in his lap. Everyone said it was a bad habit but he couldn’t stop himself. If he didn’t move, Tony sometimes felt like he would burst out of his skin. It was even worse when he was scared. 

They were out of Manhattan now, Tony could tell. They had passed over another bridge 20 minutes ago and it’s been trees and highway ever since. Tony wondered if the new house would have a yard. Since leaving his real home, he’d only lived in apartments. The parks in the neighborhood were fun, but he had liked the yard at home. He remembered being able to run through grass and not having to share a swing. 

Tony jumped at a sharp pinch in his thumb. He looked down to see a drop of blood welling up where Tony had ripped a piece of skin out. Crap. He didn’t want to get any blood on Ms. Hill’s nice care, but, after quickly peeking around the backseat, Tony realized he had nothing to use as a tissue. Stuck on what to do, Tony sucked it between his lips and turned more toward the window to keep Ms. Hill from noticing. He winced at the initial sting but managed to pull his mind from the pain by counting the number of light posts they passed. 

After a short while - one hundred and seventy three posts, to be exact - they pulled off an exit. Ten minutes and a couple of turns later, they were in a neighborhood so unlike the city streets of New York that Tony found himself drinking in everything with a sense of wonder. Two and three-floor houses lined neat streets that all had trimmed trees in their front yards. With fascination, Tony’s eyes were able to focus on a few houses enough to notice front and back yards. 

Distracted by the details that differentiated one house from the next, it felt as though only a minute had passed when Tony felt the car slowing down on the road. They stopped in front of a house that Tony had only ever seen the likes of in movies. A wide, two-floor home stood in front of him, the panels painted light blue with white shutters on the windows. 

Tony’s heart was set to pounding when he heard the click of Ms. Hill’s car door. He checked his thumb to make sure the bleeding had stopped while she was pulling his bag out of the car. At least that was done. A little wave of shame washed over him when Ms. Hill opened the door for him with the black garbage bag in hand. 

Tony made himself snap into action at her expectant smile and unbuckle the seatbelt. He gripped the strap of the red backpack that Mrs. Hendricks had bought him for his first day of grade school, and pushed off the seat to the sidewalk.

There was a small blue bicycle resting against the porch, low enough to the ground that it was clearly for a child smaller than Tony. Of course he wouldn’t be the only kid here. In a house this big, there could be seven other kids inside. Tony felt a shiver run down his back as he and Ms. Hill approached the doorbell. He tried to smile back at her when she looked down to him. 

He must not have done a good job, because she patted him between the shoulders and softly said “It’s going to be ok, buddy. I promise, you’re going to like this one.”

Tony doubted it. After this last stay with the Lakely’s, he knew now not to get too comfortable. He could be gone from here by the next week. 

The doorbell rang faintly through the door, a light jingle that reminded him of Christmas music. At the telltale vibration of approaching steps, Tony’s grip tightened on his backpack. He didn’t know if anyone noticed his jump when the door swung open, but he hoped no one would mention it. 

The man behind the door was....well...huge. Way taller than Ms. Hill, and bulky like a football player. And when the man greeted Tony with a wide smile, his attention was drawn to the - . 

Woah. The man had a metal arm. 

“Hi, Anthony. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Bucky.”

And Tony was so distracted by the arm he tuned into the words just a second too late. Instead of saying “hi”, or saying he didn’t like to be called Anthony, what came out of Tony’s mouth was “What’s a Bucky?” 

His hand twitched on the backpack as he kept from smacking his own forehead. 

The man’s face froze for a split second before he broke out into a laugh. “I’m a Bucky. It’s my nickname.” 

“Oh.” Tony didn’t know what to say to that. For a second he stood frozen on the doorstep, before he remembered his manners. “I’m Tony.” 

Tony was caught off guard when Bucky leaned down from his waist to be eye-to-eye with him and stuck out his hand - the non-metal one - to him. “Hi Tony. Welcome to our home.”

From this view, he could see that Bucky had brown hair long enough to be pulled back into a small knot like he had only ever seen girls do. His eyes were dark too, like Tony’s.

Tony slowly placed his hand in Bucky’s, afraid of offending when he’s been at his new home for 30 seconds, and was surprised at how gently Bucky’s fingers curled over his and shook his hand for a moment before letting go. He straightened up and motioned to the hallway. 

“Come inside. I think Steve’s got everyone in the kitchen.”

Everyone. 

Making sure Ms. Hill was still beside him, he gingerly stepped through the door and waited for Bucky to take the lead again. He led them to the back of the house, letting Tony catch a glimpse of a nice living room as they passed. As Bucky promised, they arrived in the kitchen. 

Tony barely noticed the view to the backyard from a glass door when he zeroed in on the table sitting opposite the island block. Another man, the same large size as Bucky but with blonde hair and blue eyes, stood next to one end of the table, where three children sat. 

A boy with sandy hair and blue eyes, older than Tony, was turned to him with a big grin that clearly said he was excited to see the new kid. A girl about the same age sat next to him looking almost bored, but Tony lingered on her red hair and green eyes before sliding over to the other side of the table. There, a little boy with plump cheeks was clutching an action figure in one hand and swinging his legs under the table. His dark hair and eyes had Tony wondering if this kid may be Bucky’s real kid. Biological. 

“Guys, this is Tony. Tony, this is my husband, Steve,” Bucky said, indicating the other man. Like Bucky, this one stepped forward to crouch down to Tony’s level with a pearly smile. 

“Hi there, Tony. We’re really glad to meet you.” Tony hoped that wasn’t a lie. Steve and Bucky seemed to talk nicely, for now, at least. It might change when Ms. Hill left, so Tony couldn’t make himself relax just yet. 

“I’d like you to meet our children,” Steve said, motioning to the kids next to them. The older boy piped up before Steve could continue with a bright, “I’m Clint!” and an eager wave. Steve huffed a small laugh, and Tony could see his smile turn a little softer. 

Tony gave Clint a small smile and waved back. “Yes, that’s our son Clint,” Steve chimed back in, “And he’s twelve years old. And this is Natasha, she’s eleven.” Natasha didn’t smile like Clint, and the way she looked him up and down before waving silently made Tony hope he hadn’t already started off on the wrong foot. 

Bucky, who had now come to stand at the other side of the table, brought Tony’s attention to the little boy. Brushing a hand through the little boy’s floppy hair, he said “And this little guy is Peter. Can you say ‘hi’ to Tony, Petey?”

The hearty shake of the hand still clutching the action figure made Tony actually smile. 

“Good job,” Bucky directed at Peter. “And how old are you, buddy?”

Peter turned around to face Bucky and shoved his hand, thumb tucked into his palm, into Bucky’s face as he burst out, “I’m four!” 

Bucky beamed down at Peter and Tony was surprised at the look of pride on his face. Maybe Peter was Bucky’s biological kid. He’d never had a foster parent look at him like that before. 

“How old are you?” Clint asked, and it took Tony a moment to realize it was directed at him. “I’m seven.”

“Yes!” Clint turned to Steve and excitedly said, “Tony can ride the big bikes with me and Tasha!” 

“Let’s have Tony settle in first, before we start racing through the streets, ok, pal?”

Clint nodded in agreement, and Tony didn’t want to say out loud that he didn’t know how to ride a bike. Hopefully Clint and Natasha would still be nice to him even if he couldn’t ride. 

“Can we take Tony to our room?” Clint asked. 

“Slow down a sec,” Bucky chided. “Tony, we were going to have you share a room with Clint since Peter’s is a little too small. Are you going to be ok with that?”

Tony didn’t really know why he was asking. He’d only ever had his own room at Mrs. Hendricks’ house. “I’ve shared before,” was what Tony said. 

Bucky’s eyebrow twitched for a moment, but his smile didn’t change. “Alright, then. Why don’t you come with me and Steve on a little house tour before lunch, huh?” Turning to Clint and Natasha, he said, “How about you take Petey into the living room for some TV?” 

Nodding along, Clint beckoned Peter to follow him and Natasha into the other room, where Tony heard the TV turn on. 

Steve looked back at Tony. “First things first, this is the kitchen. We eat all our meals at the table, and you can always eat or drink whatever is in the fridge whenever you’re hungry. You never have to wait for permission to eat or drink, ok?”

Steve seemed to wait for Tony to nod before he moved on. At least he didn’t have to worry about getting in trouble for eating food that might not be for him. “There’s always water in the fridge, we’ll show you how to use that, and we always have juice or iced tea. When we go to the store, you can tell us all the drinks and snacks you like.”

“The living room is right through there,” he pointed where the other children disappeared, “And you can get into the backyard through that door.” 

Steve was looking at Tony, probably to make sure he was paying attention, so Tony followed Steve’s finger to the glass sliding door behind the table. 

After orienting Tony to the first floor, which included the home office, where the family computer sat, and the stairway to the basement, which Tony was told housed the washing machines, Steve led Tony upstairs while Bucky got started on making lunch. 

Steve brought him into Clint’s room first, and Tony almost froze with shock at what he saw. Clint’s room wasn’t like any other bedroom he’d seen in a foster home before. A large window was in the center of the opposite wall, a twin bed and matching nightstand arranged on either side of it. In the same mirrored arrangement, a dresser and small desk were tucked against the left and right walls. The door was centered on the left side, clearly Clint’s from the pictures and knick-knacks arranged on the furniture. Across from the other bed, meant to be Tony’s, was a closet that Steve said he and Clint would share. 

“I hope you don’t mind the colors,” Steve said. The room was tastefully designed with light grey walls and dark furniture, but the wall where Clint’s dresser and desk sat was painted a darkish purple. “We let Clint redecorate and arrange his room for his birthday last year. You’re the first person who’s shared the room with him since then.”

Tony carefully laid his backpack against the nightstand. Steve had taken the garbage bag from Ms. Hill downstairs, promising it would all get washed and dried before bedtime. 

Clint’s bedsheets matched the purple hue of the walls, but Tony’s bed had grey plaid that matched the other walls. Steve had asked that Tony let him know if the sheets bothered him at all so he could pick different ones, which Tony thought was possibly the strangest thing a foster parent had asked him. Why in the world would Tony be bothered by sheets?

After the bedroom, Steve took Tony out into the hallway and pointed out Natasha’s room, next to his and Clint’s, and the bathroom that he would share with the other kids next to it. Across the hall was Steve and Bucky’s room, and Peter’s door faced Natasha’s. A trip to the linen closet next to Peter’s room got Tony a new toothbrush - Steve even let him pick from three colors - his own toothpaste, and a new hairbrush and comb that went into a bathroom drawer where Tony noticed three other brushes in different colors. The purple brush must have been Clint’s. Just like in the kitchen, Steve bent down and promised Tony that the only bathroom rules were that he knock before coming in. 

When Steve led him back down to the kitchen, Tony saw Ms. Hill at the table with Bucky. Suddenly it occurred to him that he didn’t know what Steve and Bucky’s last names were. He needed to find a way to ask Clint or Natasha what he was supposed to call them. He’d never called a foster parent by their first name. 

Ms. Hill and Bucky were looking over some papers - his file, Tony guessed. He looked down at his shoes. Compared to the nice hardwood floors, his scuffed Adidas sneakers, a hand-me-down from his third foster home, seemed dirty in comparison. He should have taken them off when he first came into the house, but Bucky hadn’t told him to and it hadn’t occurred to Tony to stop and take them off. He hopes this foster home wasn’t a stickler about shoes in the house like other ones were. 

He didn’t want to meet anyone’s eyes now. Tony knew what was in his file, and he didn’t need to see any more pity in their eyes. His file wasn’t the greatest - five homes in four years, a history of acting out and misbehavior, and barely passing school this last year. He was just grateful at this point that he hadn’t gotten dumped in a group home. Tyler, the boy in his third home, had come there from a group home. He couldn’t follow the house rules, so he got sent back a month later. Tyler had said Tony was too young for the group home, and Tony had crossed his fingers behind his back and hoped to God it was true. 

“Tony?”

His head jerked up as he realized he wasn’t paying attention. Again.

“Huh?”

Bucky sent him a soft smile, which send Tony on edge. Foster parents didn’t smile like that. 

“I was just asking if you like turkey. I’m going to make sandwiches for lunch but we have other things if you don’t like it.”

Tony blinked. “Turkey’s ok.”

Bucky’s smile widened. “Ok.”

He got up from his chair and went to start digging through cabinets. 

From the table, Ms. Hill waved him over to her. “You feeling ok, pal?” She always asked him that before she left him at a new home, and five homes later Tony still had no idea what he was supposed to say. 

Please don’t leave? Why am I here? How long am I staying this time?

But he didn’t want to bother Ms. Hill any more than he already had. So instead, he answered, “Feeling ok, I guess,” like he always did. 

She gave him another one of her nice smiles and patted his shoulder. “Ok, buddy. I’m going to head out, ok? You know you can call me anytime, right? Anytime.”

Tony nodded along. Her phone number was written down in the back of his school notebook. He’d wanted to call her a hundred times, but he could never bring himself to do it. That, or he couldn’t find a phone when he needed it. 

Maybe this time, if something was wrong, he would be able to call her. Tony was older now, after all. Not a little kid anymore. He could be brave like a big boy. 

He stopped himself from grabbing onto Ms. Hill’s jacket as she left the house. He felt his breaths getting short and choppy in that way that meant he might start wheezing soon. New house. New parents. New kids. No guarantee that anyone in this house was nice. 

Before he could get distracted by all the bad thoughts, Steve called out to the living room, “Lunch, kids!” and suddenly the other kids were back in the room, taking their previous seats. He realized he was sitting in the empty chair that had been next to Peter earlier.

When Bucky placed a plate down in front of him, Tony jumped. He froze when his eyes met Natasha’s.

Her green eyes looked sharp. Like she was looking at him with x-ray vision. Looking under his skin, into his insides. 

Tony had to look away. 

Staring down at his sandwich, Tony realized just how tired he was.

[blossom-hwa]

Repeat [Epilogue] - Mark |Swing!|

And so it ends! Thank you everyone who made the journey with me, ESPECIALLY @deathbykpopboys​ FOR GIVING ME THE IDEAS TO WRITE ONE OF THE STORIES I’M THE MOST PROUD OF <3 <3

Fair warning: this might be confusing to readers who aren’t into the Marvel cinematic universe (MCU). There are spoilers for the movies! I do have some of my personal headcanons in here, so if they bother you, just don’t read it! 

Pairing: Mark x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, Spiderman!au

Triggers: a lot of cursing :)

Word Count: 6.9k

When the rogues move back into society, there are suddenly a lot of new people looking into the relationship between Stark’s personal interns. Luckily, they’ve only got good thoughts about it, even if the kids are a little mushy sometimes. 

Alternatively:

Five ways the Avengers see (and love) the spiderkids’ relationship.

Release >> Epilogue: Repeat

NCT Masterlist | Swing!

i.

Steve doesn’t have too many hobbies. This came as a result of being sick all the damn time during his younger years at the height of the Depression. He was always in bed, and he never really knew when he was just going to keel over and kick the bucket.

Art, though, is something he’s taken with him from younger self to his Captain America days. Especially in this modern age, there’s so much more to sketch. Steve takes interest in the tiny things – glitter pens, microwaves, things that other people have taken for granted as ordinary parts of their lives. He didn’t have those in the Depression, but now he does.

It’s weird.

When he moved back into the Compound, he spent a lot of time outdoors. He wanted to talk to Tony, to apologize for his secrets, thank him for his work on the Accords, maybe clear the air a little, but Tony would just disappear into the lab where only he, Banner, Pepper, and the interns are allowed. So he just picked up the sketchbook Bucky bought him for his last birthday, some pencils, and a Dodgers hat, and went out to observe the city.

It took his fingers some time to figure out how to shade the way he did when they were slim, translucent things. They’re bulkier now, thicker and stronger, and if he isn’t careful, he sometimes snaps his pencils in half. But as the days go by, his fingers gain back some of the delicacy of touch that his younger, sicklier self had.

Art is how he can express himself, now. Even though Nat and Sam like to tease him (what is it that kids say now? Clown him? He thinks that’s it) for having a speech ready for every occasion, Steve finds himself tongue-tied a lot more often than he can admit. Art is how he finally confessed to Bucky – a simple portrait of his long-time best friend turned crush, done with the pencils he’d bought Steve for Christmas.

A lot of the Avengers deal in things that could be considered delicate – archery, knife-throwing, cooking – but only Nat really does any form of art. She dances ballet, but even that’s something very defined, very precise. It’s razor-sharp, the way she does it. And her art form carries a lot of bad memories for her, whereas Steve’s mostly brings back good times. The days where he felt good enough to go outside. The days before the war, when Bucky would bring him onto the fire escape of their shitty little apartment and they would just stare at the city in front of them.

Soft things and sharp things are very separate in Steve’s mind. Art is something soft. Something pretty, something beautiful, something nice. He hesitates to call fighting or sarcasm or weapons evil, exactly, but they aren’t very beautiful, either.

For this reason, he doesn’t understand, at first, how the two Stark interns ended up together. At first glance, they’re polar opposites – one a spitfire, the other always calm. Loud laughter and a cutthroat tongue coexisting with quiet words and a thoughtful mind.

It doesn’t make sense to him, until he walks in on a scene one day that almost makes his heart melt.

He’s on his way out of the Compound to go outside and maybe people watch. Sketch a bit. He has his pencils in one hand, sketchbook in the other, when the strumming of a guitar sounds from farther down the hall. Steve walks out to investigate.

Mark is sitting on the couch, guitar in hand. Steve briefly remembers Mark playing it before, but not too much. It’s beautiful, really, and he stops just at the end of the hall to listen for a bit. Mark’s hands strum the guitar in quiet chords. They’re delicate, Steve realizes – thin, lithe, graceful. Soft. Similar to his own when he was younger, just minus the boniness and sickly white tinge.

His eyes then focus on the girl sitting next to him, head leaning on Mark’s shoulder, typing with razor concentration on the laptop in front of her. Sharp, precise, focused.

But though Y/N’s eyes are steely, her body language is anything but. She leans into Mark with an undeniable softness, a pliability that lets her sink into the couch and his body. Mark, meanwhile, sits up, his back straight, though his hands move delicately over the strings of the guitar.

In this moment, Steve feels dumbstruck, almost. The interns combine sharp edges and rounded curves into something that, even to his eye, is truly beautiful. They’re not solely delicate and soft. They’re not solely refined and precise.

They’re both, jagged points fitting perfectly into smooth curves. And there’s beauty in that.

Quietly, he walks back to his own room, the image of the interns on the couch burned into his mind. His fingers start moving his pencils back and forth on a fresh page.

Neither of them will probably ever know, but they are the reason Steve now sees beauty in sharp edges and precision. Perhaps he still prefers the delicacy of sunsets or the gentle waving of leaves in the breeze, but he understands it, understands the way Y/N and Mark come together. He sketches more – one of Clint’s arrows stuck in a target, one of Sam’s wings slicing through a block of concrete, Natasha’s ballet.

There’s beauty in everything, Steve realizes. Not just aesthetics and pretty things.

He likes this point of view. He likes it a lot.

Smiling, he sketches some more.

~

ii.

Bucky Barnes has often showed his love through food. It was the way he knew his Ma loved him, even if her face was drawn in most of the time and she didn’t smile a whole lot. None of that mattered, not too much. Bucky knew he was loved in the way she scraped away from her own portions and put them onto his and Becca’s plates, in the way she would give them the best bits of bread and the meat on the few occasions they could afford it.

So when he found Steve, that was the way he showed his care. Showed his love. He shared his meager lunches with the sickly kid who had a penchant for art, bought him medicine and swiped apples for him. He cooked for Steve in their ratty apartment, made him something extra nice to cheer him up a bit when his mom died. And when Bucky went off to the war and couldn’t take care of Steve upfront anymore, he sent back his earnings with explicit instructions for Steve to eat as much as he could.

He wouldn’t say he’s really good at cooking, at least not at first. His meals on the front could barely be called meals – some bully beef, bread, and biscuits. He tried, sometimes, to make things look nicer, make them look more palatable. In the end, though, he gave up. There wasn’t any point.

Then Steve came, newly muscled and broad. He saved Bucky’s regiment and formed the Howling Commandos, and Bucky had someone to care for again. Someone to love. Because even though Steve was physically stronger, to Bucky, he was still the reckless kid from Brooklyn who kept getting up after he got knocked down. He needed someone to protect him.

So Bucky started cooking again, trying to put together edible meals from the few rations they had. He cooked not just for Steve, but for all the Commandos – Dugan, Morita, Jones, everyone. It was the best way he knew how to show he cared, something beyond slaps on the back and teasing jokes. He got better at cooking, at making food that wasn’t just edible but also tasted good.

Then he became Soldier.

After all those mind-numbing decades, he might have thought his cooking skills would have disappeared. Being a highly trained assassin who slept for long periods of time in a cryochamber after each mission didn’t usually leave much time for fucking around in a kitchen. But surprisingly, when the rogues went on the run and Bucky landed himself in various safe houses around the country, he found he could still work his way around a kitchen, even though his metal arm overheated sometimes. Wanda helped, then, using her telekinetic power to airlift things in and out of ovens. Slowly, his cooking skills improved. And when he made the old meals, better versions of the special things they sometimes ate during the depression, Steve would tear up. Because Bucky remembered.

Then he moved into the Avengers Compound.

Tony never really lashed out at him like he sometimes did to Steve. No, Bucky hadn’t hidden things on purpose from Tony. He knew what he had done as Soldier. But somehow, the silent, awkward treatment he got from Howard Stark’s son was worse than if he’d yelled at him.

So for the first few weeks, even though he was itching to cook something just to keep his hands busy, he couldn’t bring himself to enter the kitchen other than to get some snacks. Raisins, usually. Raisins are good. Bucky has no idea why Steve hates them so much. Or why Wanda calls him a grandmother for liking them.

Then Y/N comes into the picture.

Bucky’s been alone in cooking for so long that he’s almost forgotten that other people can express care in the form of food as well. None of the rogues can cook too well – Steve is terrible in the kitchen – and even during the war, he was the one who took care of the food.

So when he finds one of Tony’s interns in the kitchen, soup boiling on the stove, he’s almost blown away.

From his first impression, Y/N was snappy, quick-witted, and fast on her feet. That’s how she landed a black eye on Clint fucking Barton before Nat took her down with the thigh-hold. And yeah, now he knows she’s Silk, apparently, but her reaction time is scary.

That first impression changes the moment she smiles at Bucky and invites him to sit at the kitchen island. He comes in, a little scared (he feels like one of those characters in that game Wanda plays – Simps? Sims? Something like that), but she just laughs and tells him Mr. Stark won’t murder him for sitting in the kitchen. “I’ll give you some soup too, so you have an excuse to be here,” she grins.

Jokes like that don’t usually go over him that well (murder is a bit of a touchy subject, especially with regard to Tony), but the teasing glint in her eyes somehow gets him to relax. So he sits and listens while she talks.

As the soup boils, she explains that she’s making it for Mark, who has a slight headache. It’s samgyetang, a broth with chicken, garlic, rice, and ginseng. Her parents used to make it for him when he was sick and Aunt Mei had to work, and when they died, she took over the job.

Bucky listens mostly in silence, reforming his opinion on the abrasive girl he met a month ago. She’s less snappy now, and though she quips a little about how bad Mark is in the kitchen, she’s quieter. Softer, out of worry.

It hits him as she’s ladling the soup into bowls, one for her, one for Mark, one for Tony, and one for him. She’s expressing her love in a way that Bucky knows and understands – food. She loves Mark and she loves Tony, and though she probably doesn’t feel the same way towards him, she still cares. She cares enough to fill a bowl for him, to place it in front of him with a spoon and fork and not the chopsticks he isn’t accustomed to.

He almost cries, looking down at the bowl of hot soup. It’s nothing like the simple meals his Ma used to make for him and Becca, but the meaning is the same. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

“You’re welcome.” The smile on her face reminds him of Becca, and maybe what his Ma’s smile would have looked like if he remembered more of it.

The soup is delicious. Rich broth, tender meat, rice that melts in his mouth. For a moment, he forgets himself as he tells Y/N that she has to teach him how to make this. Then he snaps his mouth shut, afraid of having overstepped.

She just laughs in delight, promising that she will the next time she comes to the Compound. Then she traipses off with the other three bowls on a tray, reminding him that there’s more soup in the pot if he or anyone else is still hungry.

Bucky slowly eats the hot soup, savoring each bite on his tongue. He’s long expressed his care through meals of his own, but only now, decades after his Ma, has someone done the same for him.

It feels strange. But it feels good, to know that someone can understand him in this way. Even if that someone is an almost stranger.

(Later, she comes back out again with Mark, both of them talking quietly about something or the other. Bucky’s just come out of his room to find Steve, but he finds himself stopping for a moment just to see the worry in her eyes as she looks up at him, the love in Mark’s eyes as he kisses her cheek. In that moment, he knows – it is love. It’s true love, real love, even though the two are only in college. It’s the way he feels about Steve, and the way Steve feels about him. It’s something beautiful.)

He starts using the kitchen, at first while Y/N is in there, and then he starts venturing in on his own. With time, Tony starts coming in too, and accepts Bucky’s apologies in the form of soups and meals and desserts.

Y/N brings Mark into the kitchen too, eventually. Bucky worries at first that he’s intruding on time with her boyfriend, but he quickly realizes that isn’t the case. Somehow, the love between Tony’s interns isn’t something that isolates others, that forces people away. Instead, it’s something nourishing, something that brings him in and makes him feel comfortable and peaceful even as they bicker in the corner.

Through the kitchen, through Y/N’s loud laughter and later Mark’s petulant whining at how she clowns him too much when it comes to cooking, Bucky learns once again how it feels for someone to care for him in the language he knows.

The interns’ love is the kind that Bucky has always wanted, the one he hasn’t allowed himself to have. He loves Steve and Steve loves him, but Bucky’s always been terrified that something will tear him away from Steve again. So he’s kept his distance a bit, even though Steve keeps trying to pull him in.

But as he starts laughing with the interns as he and Y/N work on new recipes, Mark and eventually Steve acting as the taste testers, he allows himself to believe that he and Steve can have this love too.  

~

iii.

Natasha’s spent her entire life reading people. She didn’t used to be so good at it, not in the Red Room (the knives Irina snuck into fights and the subsequent scars are proof of it), but she’s learned. She’s adapted. Reading people, she has learned, is a survival skill.

Most people she’s worked with wear masks. They don a smile, cordially shake hands and speak with pleasant words, but they don’t mean any of it. They’re always looking for something, whether that be power or wealth or whatnot. Natasha’s learned to figure out what that something is, very quickly.

She’s naturally suspicious of people. And though that might not be the nicest trait for someone to have, it keeps her safe. So she doesn’t care.

That’s why she keeps a close eye on the interns. It’s just for a bit, anyway. She’s curious how two teenagers got so close to Tony, even if they are Spiderman and Silk – after all, Tony has never been the warmest person to strangers.

But these kids, they’re so unapologetically honest (brutally so, sometimes, especially with Y/N). Natasha’s only caught them with little white lies, like who ate the last Oreo (that was Y/N) and that I’m not really injured, Ms. Romanoff, seriously (that was Mark). The only thing they’re really hiding from people is their alter egos as spider vigilantes, and that’s understandable. Natasha herself would really have liked to keep her Black Widow identity a secret, but, well, certain events made that impossible.

They’re honest in everything – their lives, which haven’t been the greatest, their studies, which are top-notch, and most importantly, their love. It takes a special type of courage to display their kind of love so freely, so openly, when they’re so close to the public eye. Sure, Tony’s gone to great lengths to keep the press away from them, but it demonstrates the trust they have in each other, to defend, to protect.

At first, Natasha doesn’t think it’s real. They have to be faking something. She’s seen too much of the world’s darkness to blindly believe their love is as deep as it appears to be. They’re so young. It doesn’t make sense.

Then the Stark gala rolls around.

Officially, it’s to welcome the rogue Avengers back to society. Unofficially, it’s a networking opportunity – people get to scope out new competition, maybe make some promises or some trades (or some bribes). Some people will get “poached” by other companies. Others will be doing the poaching themselves. Or losing employees to the poachers.

Natasha doesn’t particularly love this environment, but she does enjoy putting leering men in their places. So she’s going.

The interns are too, apparently. This will be their first time out in the open with reporters and journalists, and Tony’s been going nuts trying to make sure they won’t get harassed. Natasha knows this because FRIDAY sometimes bitches to her about her boss.

She wouldn’t worry too much. If someone gets too overbearing, she’s been teaching Y/N and Mark better self-defense. They’ll be fine.

It’s the night of the gala, and Natasha’s waiting around with the other rogues in the ballroom. A few people have approached, but nothing too terrible. In fact, as she holds a champagne flute between her fingers, she feels kind of bored. No one’s acting out yet.

Then the interns walk in.

The first thing Natasha registers is how they’re just looking at each other. To Mark, it’s like Y/N’s a piece of gold and glass, a star pulled down from the sky to rest in his hand. Meanwhile, Y/N looks at Mark like he hung the moon in the sky, plucked the stars from the galaxy and put them in her eyes.

Natasha won’t lie – Mark cuts a striking figure in the suit of Pepper’s choosing (because Tony is a fashion disaster, if left alone). Pepper’s stylist has put together Y/N’s look in a way that makes her literally shine. But the way they look at each other isn’t just admiration for each other’s beauty – it’s something much, much more.

Hm. She still doesn’t completely believe it, though, and as reporters start swarming into the ballroom, she loses sight of them anyway.

Several glasses of wine and champagne later, Natasha feels sufficiently loosened up to tolerate more human interaction than the minimum. She slips away from the rogues, indulges a politician or two in a dance, and eats all the hors d’oeuvres off of a platter. If anyone wants to point that out, they can get a six-inch heel to the face.

(Fights almost always break out at a Stark event. Either physical or verbal. Tony’s used to it. He probably wouldn’t care, especially if she was fighting some asshole like Ross.)

Somewhere in the pleasant slight muddiness that comes with her tipsy state, Natasha sees the interns again. Neither are twenty-one yet, so Tony’s forbidden them from imbibing any alcohol (and has probably told the servers not to give them any). Knowing them, though, Natasha expects Y/N will probably find a way to steal a glass of wine or something at some point.

But they’re not drinking now. They’re not eating, indulging reporters, or fending off over-curious business owners. They don’t look tired from the evening. They don’t even look bored, like Bucky does on the other side of the room.

Natasha watches them idly, fully ignoring the conversation that she’s supposed to be participating in. Dr. Phelps can talk to the Surgeon General. She’s not interested, especially when Mark drags Y/N, protesting, to the dance floor.

Really, Natasha would have thought Y/N would be the one dragging Mark there. She’s always been the more outgoing one, the more confident and mouthier one. But as Mark starts leading her in the figures of the slow dance, she can see why the roles have been switched.

Mark is a natural dancer, not the best Natasha’s seen, but good enough to not bump into anyone around him. Y/N, on the other hand, is barely above having two left feet.

It’s strange. Y/N has always had faster reflexes in training and is far lighter on her feet. But it’s not too weird. Yelena was always better at fighting than Natasha, after all, but Natasha was always better in ballet. She supposes this is something similar.

Dancing, to Natasha, has always been something precise, something sharp. In the Red Room, one leg an inch too low merited a slap on the backs of the thighs. But Mark, even though Y/N’s stepping on his toes every two seconds, is only smiling. There’s no sign of irritation on his face, just pure, utter adoration and awe as he looks into her embarrassed expression.

That’s when it hits her. She might not have believed it before, but this is the love she’s read about in story books. Plain and simple, intricate and complex. It’s just love. That’s it.

So it is possible, she muses over her latest glass of wine. It is possible to love someone so deeply that it doesn’t matter how they inconvenience you. It is possible to love someone so much that their faults just become things to love, not things to hate.

Y/N accidentally bumps into some important-looking man in a business suit who snaps something at her. She bites right back before turning to Mark again, the snark on her face melting into adoration.

Mark looks like he’s never been happier.

Natasha smiles, slipping away from her boring conversation with the excuse of needing more wine. She’s happy for the spiderlings.

Because if anyone in the world deserved this happiness, she thinks, it would be the two pure hearts stumbling gracelessly around the ballroom floor.

~

iv.

Wanda misses Pietro. But it doesn’t do anyone good to lie around missing someone, does it? So, true to herself, she takes the pain, buries it deep in her chest, and does what she believes is right – she follows the rogues.

Her sense of right and wrong has been askew, before. She will admit that. Blinded by her desire for revenge, she allowed Hydra to experiment on her. She ignored the dozens of other dying experiments, focused only on hers and Pietro’s survival. She sided with Ultron, wrought havoc in the world until she found his true plans.

But then she joined Stark.

Wanda may never admit it, but she thinks that was the single best choice of her life, aside from keeping Pietro alive with her for sixteen years. Her moral compass righted itself when she joined the Avengers, when Clint Barton took her aside in Sokovia and told her to choose – stay a child, or become a hero. Because she couldn’t be one or the other.

(A child who has seen war becomes an adult overnight, after all, no matter how young they are.)

Sure, Stark essentially imprisoning her in the Compound was a factor in her choice to join Cap. But she also remembered Sokovia, remembered the death and destruction of her home country, and knew how much more would have taken place had the Avengers not had free reign to do what they must. The Accords were drawn in a time of necessity, she knew. But they were too strict. Too harsh.

The world has made (relative) peace with the rogues, now. She’ll take it. Cap’s team has more or less earned their place again among society, after all, what with taking down most of the Hydra bases left in the world.

But she doesn’t feel comfortable in the Compound, not at first. Stark’s renovated it, made it look very different from the prison it used to be for her, but she still doesn’t harbor the kindest feelings towards the man. He’s changed – there’s no doubt about that. She believes he truly means to stay out of the weapons business that killed her parents and wrenched her life in the opposite direction. However, the fact still remains that he took it upon himself to decide what was best for her, without taking her opinion into account at all.

There isn’t much to do. There’s only so many times she can spar in the training room, even after meeting Dr. Strange (she’s very thankful for him, of course, but he’s also kind of mean even if he means well). Hydra didn’t neglect her schooling too much when it became clear she and Pietro were going to survive, and she’s smart, so Stark enrolls her in online college, just for a couple of years. “You can transfer to a physical college if you want, then,” he promises.

Online school is boring, though. She’s responsible, of course, but pre-recorded lectures suck and the homework is more or less a breeze.

And what is there to do during her non-busy hours besides curl up on her bed and try not to think of her deceased twin, her other half, her older brother by twelve minutes?

(By God, she wants to hear him say that to her one more time. Just once more.)

She knows Dr. Strange worries about her on the days she walks into his mansion on Bleecker Street, eyes downcast and face pale. She knows Clint sends her concerned looks when he visits with his kids. Stark even awkwardly mentions therapy, and though she brushes away the offer, a part of her wonders if she should’ve taken it.

Then the interns crash into her life. Literally.

She met them, briefly, that first time Stark forgot to inform the rogues of his interns and forgot to inform the interns that it was moving day, but the fight was a blur and then she was busy trying to get her life together for a couple of months, so she never got to meet them properly.

They meet properly when Mark trips over one of Morgan’s toys on the floor, sending his tray of foam coffee cups splattering to the floor. A spray of liquid lands on Wanda’s feet as she’s walking into the living room.

“Shit,” Y/N says eloquently. Then – “Mark, you idiot.”

“Sorry.” Mark hastily stands up, sending Wanda a very apologetic look. “Let me get a napkin or something. Burn cream?”

Wanda waves away the offer. “It wasn’t too hot,” she says. “Here, let me help.”

“No, no.” Y/N snatches the napkins from Mark before she can take them. “You’re the victim of Mark’s clumsiness, we can do the honors.”

Then she slips on a puddle of coffee and lands on her ass.

Mark starts snorting. Wanda doesn’t know if she should be calling for an ambulance or laughing.

A pained “I think I broke my ass,” rises from the floor.

Wanda settles for laughing and decides in that moment that she likes the interns very much.

It’s the right thing to do, she thinks, liking Mark and Y/N so much that she starts feeling like her life has a bit of meaning again.

(She’s never the third wheel – it’s always the three of them. Together.)

They run around Stark Tower, playing harmless pranks on the Avengers who can take it – not Bucky, not yet, and Natasha would probably hunt them down – but Clint and Steve are fair game. Y/N and Mark make her listen to their favorite songs, playing them until two a.m. on the nights they stay. With their help, she finishes her coursework even faster than she used to, but even though she’s got more free time now, there’s so much more to do. Read books, play games, go thrifting (and teach Y/N how to have a better fashion sense, Jesus). There’s so much, now.

There’s even more when Y/N and Mark slowly introduce her to their other friends. Haechan is a sarcastic piece of shit but Wanda loves him for it, while Jaemin’s a little quieter but definitely far more affectionate. Yeri is a beautiful specimen, out of this world (yeah, Wanda definitely has a crush on her), and Jihyo has the best sense of humor.

Wanda doesn’t know how she lived before she met the interns, really and truly. From them, she sees that her existence with Hydra was just that – existence. Not living. Even when threats hit New York and they all have to fight together, it’s still living. Because Wanda now has something to protect, to defend again.

(Privately, she admires them, wonders how such pure-hearted people could be friends with someone as broken as her. She admires that their first instinct is to protect, not to destroy. In battle, the spiderlings take the job of protecting the civilians, evacuating them, using their abilities to defend.

Wanda can’t. Her power is more destructive than protective, and many people balk at her ability to see into their minds. So she focuses on tearing down buildings, breaking apart killer robots, throwing aliens onto the ground and twisting them so they won’t be able to hurt anyone anymore.

Y/N and Mark are Avengers, though they sometimes joke that they’re not really true Avengers. Avengers work out the large-scale events, Y/N says. She and Mark just look out for the little guys. That’s how Spiderman and Silk got their start, after all, and even now, they haven’t left behind their day-to-day duties in Queens.

Wanda thinks that makes them truer Avengers than the rest of them. She and the others? They only destroy, sworn to protect Earth at all costs. But if Y/N and Mark weren’t there to protect the people? Well, Earth wouldn’t be Earth without the humans who populate it.)

The rest of the Avengers hate them. Sam relentlessly yells curses when another bucket tips over and douses him in freezing water. Clint groans when he finds his arrows covered in webbing (“I thought I hid them well this time!”). Dr. Strange loathes it when the interns come to pick Wanda up from training (“Put that down, Ms. Y/N, or so help me –”). Steve literally leaves the room whenever the three of them are together because he knows they won’t stop making references to his old Captain America PSAs (the day Y/N and Mark sat down to show Wanda all of them was the greatest day of her life).

Oh, but Wanda loves it. She loves the life that the interns have given her once again, the freedom to act her age and not so much older. With them, she learns to cope. She goes to therapy at their suggestion, citing the help they received with their own troubles. She gets better.

Sometimes, though, she feels guilty, that she’s enjoying life so much when Pietro is gone. She still has bad days where she lies on her bed, unblinking, thinking these thoughts, staring at her ceiling plastered with little glow-in-the-dark stars, wishing with her entire heart that her other half was still alive. And even on her good days, where she and Y/N and Mark and Haechan are fucking around at a coffee shop or something, she’ll look out at the sky and think, I wish you were here, Pietro.

But it’s okay. In the end, she knows that he’s there. Watching, listening, smiling down on his baby sister by twelve minutes.

(By God, she can still hear his voice saying that.)

And he’s happy for her.

~

v.

Tony, by nature, is a forgetful person. Or at least he likes to say so. It might just be the result of purposely forgetting too many family dinners or Stark events, to the point that he’s just become forgetful. And who can blame him for not wanting to see Howard Stark any more than he actually had to?

It’s not too bad when it comes to the science stuff. He’s got a pretty good head for remembering what needs to go where, whether or not DUM-E needs greasing again, and oh fuck, I need to put this thing in before that thing otherwise the house will explode. Sometimes there are minor accidents, but he doesn’t talk about those.

(His interns do. They’re terrible teenagers, those two, in particular Y/N. Mark’s a little nicer. But he loves them anyway, even though they give him gray hairs.)

But when it comes to people? Social situations? Telling other living human beings things?

Yeah, he’s not the best at that.

To be fair, he’s been making progress. Every single year he’s managed to remember that Pepper is deathly allergic to strawberries (he doesn’t need a repeat of that time he fucked up and brought them as an apology, which only made things worse). He remembers date nights, he remembers (more or less) when he has to attend a meeting about the Accords, he remembers when Pepper sets up dinners with him, Rhodey, and his interns’ families.

So he’s been doing better. And if he “forgets” one or two meetings with Fury or that nitwit Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross, no one gives him too much shit for it. It’s not like he’d care, anyway.

But sometimes he still forgets extremely crucial information, and the aftermath makes him suffer dearly for it. Like now. It’s been months since The Incident, and he already thinks he’d like to be six feet under.

Because ever since the newly pardoned no-longer-war-criminal Avengers moved into the Compound, Tony has had a permanent headache (not that he didn’t already have one, what with Morgan learning to walk, but now it’s worse) in the form of his interns mixing with the newly reinstated Avengers.

In all honesty, he should’ve known this would happen since the day he forgot to inform the new freeloaders that he had two new interns and consequently forgot to tell the interns that it was moving day for the former rogues. But since he was woefully shortsighted, the ensuing chaos resulted in a broken table, a knife in the wall, a chokehold, a thigh hold, a black eye, and an arrow embedded in a bookcase.

Well, the table needed replacing anyway. And the most important thing at the time was that somehow, amidst the chaos, Morgan didn’t wake up.

After that disastrous first meeting, though, they’re all getting along surprisingly well. Sam likes to rib on Y/N, who just snaps right back. Steve likes to draw while listening to Mark play guitar. Nat and Clint have taken it upon theirselves to teach them both more self-defense, Barnes sometimes cooks with Y/N (and the food is surprisingly good), and Wanda gets along with them like a house on fire, which results in far too many pranks and broken items around the Compound.

(It’s not even just the pranks. It’s the sheer chaos that the three young adults bring when they put their minds together. They yell the randomest shit even when they’re beating off attackers and it drives him and the others nuts. 

Example A. After Wanda enrolled in the kids’ university, they had a chemistry test at some point and got called to battle immediately after. 

“WANDA, WHAT DID YOU GET FOR QUESTION TWELVE?” Mark yells as he rounds up a group of civilians. 

“298!” she screams back. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Y/N pauses in webbing an alien to start yelling. “I GOT 312!”

Tony thinks his brain is going to explode. “Kids, please focus on the fight –”

“Y/N, DID YOU FORGET TO CONVERT CELSIUS TO KELVIN?”

There’s a beat of silence. 

Then a loud “FUCK” sounds over the comms, and Tony isn’t kidding when all the Avengers wince or flinch at the pure chaotic rage exuding from Y/N’s person. 

Scott Lang, who literally just came by for a visit, later asks Tony if it’s going to be like this when Cassie gets older. Tony just pats the poor man on the back and wishes him luck.)

It’s part of the spiderkids’ charms, Tony thinks. Despite their different personalities, they fit together like positive and negative, like two opposite poles. And in this, they drag other people into their bubble of laughter and joy. Like they did with him.

There’s been a lot of bad in Tony’s life – Howard, the party years, his parents’ deaths, all the death threats he’s gotten from others (and himself – that palladium wasn’t doing good things to his blood). But there’s also been a lot of good – Jarvis, Rhodey, Pepper, Badassium, the other Avengers, and the latest additions: his interns, and now Morgan.

There isn’t anything specific that Y/N and Mark do that make him feel good about life, he thinks. It’s just the way they fit together so well, the way they bring a sort of comfort to his own fucked up existence. It’s there in the way Mark will hold out a hand for a tool in the lab and Y/N will immediately hand the correct one over. It’s there in the way Y/N makes soup for Mark when he gets a headache. It’s there in the way they play with Morgan, two college students laughing and smiling with a babbling baby with sticky, messy hands.

Tony hasn’t always been able to recognize love. It took him a long while – his childhood didn’t have a lot of it, and what little he got was from either Maria, who was often cowed by Howard’s presence, or Jarvis. Rhodey was the first to introduce him to something other than distant familial care – love between friends. Then Happy came along. Finally, with Pepper, he found someone he wanted to wake up to every single day.

That’s how he zeroed in on his interns, the day he drove up to their little apartment and flipped their lives inside out. He was taking a break with Pepper, but he could recognize the aura between them. The way Y/N looked at Mark, the way Mark squeezed Y/N’s arm when she started getting agitated.

Tony knew, from the start, that these were two kids who had seen each other at their best and worst points in their short lives and had made the conscious decision to keep caring for each other, to keep loving each other. And from the biographies he’d pulled together when he first started searching them up, they had had a lot of bad points in their lives to see each other at.

He couldn’t believe they weren’t dating. It wasn’t possible. But at the time, that hadn’t been the point, so Tony had just assumed that they’d figured things out and finally gotten together sometime after Germany. They certainly looked it – even through the dark circles and stifled yawns and half-lidded eyes, they never strayed from one another.

Imagine his surprise when they told him months later that they were finally fucking dating.

Honestly, Tony thought he was going to have a fucking aneurysm, but he stayed himself. But after the panic attack (and the resulting scene where he nearly cried in front of his two high school interns, one of whom had just had said panic attack, what a fucking mess), he’d immediately gone off to Pepper to rant. When she kicked him out a half hour later, he went to Rhodey, who was much more obliging (mostly because he ignored Tony the whole time).

And as the years passed, as he watched them transition from awkward high school students to awkward college students, their friendship and love only grew into something more beautiful that Tony never actually thought he’d see. Two brilliant minds who stayed geared on kindness and love and protection even after years of heartbreak.

What more could Tony ever want to see?

(Well, Morgan growing up. That, he wants to see more than anything ever. But that’s beside the current point.)

Tony walks into the living room to his favorite interns sitting at the piano. Mark’s holding the guitar Tony got him for his nineteenth birthday after finding out his old one broke and Mei couldn’t afford to replace it. Y/N has her hands on the piano that Tony got her for her twentieth after she mentioned she used to play, but Johnny had to sell their keyboard when money got tight. Wanda’s flicking through her phone on the couch, Johnny’s trying to keep Mei from experimenting in the kitchen, while Clint plays with Morgan and Nathaniel in the background.

Despite this, Y/N looks at Mark like he’s the only person in the world, while he looks at her like she hung the stars in the sky. The living room is quiet, broken only by Morgan’s and Nathaniel’s babbling, but it could be silent for all his interns cared.

He just watches them with a smile on his face as they begin playing in tandem. Tony knows Y/N is primarily a classical pianist, while Mark likes to learn pop tunes on his guitar, but when they come together, it really is something beautiful. Neither are perfect players, but when they begin a song, it’s like everything else disappears, and only two things exist – the music and them. Even Morgan and Nathaniel stop babbling to listen.

Eventually, they’ll finish the piece. Maybe they’ll play another one together. Y/N might show off the latest Chopin she’s been working on, or Mark will play a song he’s just finished composing. They’ll look at each other with those dopey smiles and star-crossed eyes, and they’ll kiss.

Wanda and the kids will probably groan in mock disgust. Johnny and Mei will exchange smirks. His interns will just laugh it off, maybe start a tickle fight with the kids or a brawl with Wanda. There’ll be a lot of kicking and yelling and laughing, and then they’ll tire and raid the cabinets for snacks.

It’s Y/N and Mark’s world, Tony thinks, and the rest of them are just living in it. It’s a messy existence, and Tony knows his headache isn’t going to go away anytime soon. In the face of this chaotic peace, though, he can’t bring himself to care at all. He can only be grateful to be a part of it.

The love between his favorite interns brings people together. And as he watches them smile at each other across their instruments, listening to the music they make under their fingertips, Tony wouldn’t have it any other way.

[roboticonography]

Fic preview: The Fixed Foot

Pals, I regret to inform you that the fic I had planned to post today is not done. I was hoping to put the finishing touches on it today, but out of nowhere it got a lot longer and somewhat sexier, so I hope you’ll forgive me for posting just this first part, a small taste of things to come.

The title is a reference to John Donne’s “A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning,” which has been in the back of my mind ever since Agent Carter’s S1 finale episode.

Extended metaphors about compasses for the win.

This is for Day 1 of Steggy Week 2019: It’s Endgame, Baby!

===========

He starts with a date range. He doesn’t want to risk making things too complicated. This is going to be tricky enough as is.

He reads up on Peggy. He’s avoided knowing some of the details thus far; she wasn’t able to tell him directly, and using the internet felt intrusive.

There isn’t a lot of detailed information to be had through official channels. Employment forms and tax forms give him a dry chronology of cities, addresses, changes in marital status.

Howard’s butler’s unpublished memoirs are more illuminating. Edwin Jarvis uses pseudonyms for all of Howard’s associates, but it isn’t hard to figure out the identity of “Nancy,” who nearly knocked Jarvis unconscious the first time they met. In spite of that—or maybe even because of it—he seems to have really liked Peggy. (Steve can’t imagine meeting her and not liking her, but he is, of course, biased.)

Steve discovers that Peggy and a friend lived in one of Howard’s Manhattan penthouses for a period of time in the late 40s, after both of them were “asked to vacate” a women’s boarding house. He suspects there’s more to the story than that. He hopes he’ll get to hear it in person.

In one entry, Jarvis specifically mentions that Peggy is single. He seems to be one of those types who loves being married so much that he thinks everyone ought to try it at least once.

Steve decides on a date.

He collects the things he’ll need: a set of clothes, a paper map, some valuables he can hock for cash when he gets there, and a few keepsakes that won’t give him away.

He debates whether to get a different haircut, whether to grow a beard or get a pair of glasses. He wishes Natasha were here to help him with this part.

He wishes Natasha were here for a lot of reasons.

He reads everything he can get his hands on: what’s happening in politics, movies, music. Who made it to the World Series. It’s a sobering reminder of the time he’s returning to, and the battles that will lie ahead.

He has Bruce explain how time travel works, again and again, until it finally feels like it might be starting to sink in. He doesn’t want to do anything that might cause harm to his loved ones—those in the here and now, or those in the past. But he also knows himself. He knows he won’t be able to sit idly by.

Bruce assures him that there’s nothing he can do in the past that will alter what’s already taken place. His actions will create a new timeline, with its own outcomes; once he’s there, he won’t be able to take anything for granted.

Last but not least, he makes sure he has a backup plan. He loves Peggy, and he knows Peggy loves him, but it’s got to be her choice.

Bucky figures it out, of course. 

Sam doesn’t.

*

The one thing he should have thought to check was the weather report. The night he lands, it’s raining in sheets. The sidewalks are flooded.

He finds a spot to disable his quantum suit and change into the clothes he brought, which are instantly soaked as soon as he goes outside. Naturally, he didn’t think to bring an umbrella.

By the time he makes it over to Howard’s building, he looks like a drowned rat. The concierge eyes him suspiciously when he asks if Miss Carter is in.

“Who?”

“Margaret Carter. I know she lives here. She’s a friend of mine. Please.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t help you.”

He scans the cavernous lobby; he doesn’t particularly want to have their reunion here, under the watchful eye of the building’s staff, but he may not have much choice.

Mercifully, the place is empty, aside from a single resident. Her back is to Steve, but her arrow-straight nylons and her tidy blonde pincurls remind him of Peggy, and he feels a heady rush of longing and anticipation. 

Watching her collect a letter from a bank of tidy pigeon-holes along one wall, he has a brainwave: he’ll leave Peggy a note. She might not believe it, but it’ll probably at least make her curious enough to want to meet him. And it’ll give her time to adjust to the idea before seeing him in person.

He borrows a sheet of paper and a fountain pen from the concierge, and makes an effort not to drip on the counter as he ponders what to write. He tries to think of a place nearby where they could meet.

“Is there an all-night diner anywhere around here?”

The concierge has just opened his mouth to reply when Steve is distracted by someone tugging on his sleeve.

It’s the woman who was picking up her mail. She’s young, and looks strangely familiar, though Steve has no clue where they might have met. Hopefully not at a USO show.

Fortunately, she doesn’t seem especially star-struck. “If you’re just looking for coffee and pie, I know an okay place,” she tells him, pointing to the waitress’s uniform under her rain slicker.

“Great, thanks.”

“Did I hear you asking for Peg earlier?”

Steve nods.

“She went to the pictures. I’m the roommate.” The blonde loops her arm through his. “You can wait upstairs, it’s okay. I’ll even scare up a cup of coffee for you, pro bono. Come on.”

He knows he shouldn’t; he needs to get his story straight with Peggy before he starts interacting with her social circle. But he’s been on the move for days, and it’s miserable outside.

“Sure. Thanks.”

*

The apartment is huge, a carefully curated monument to old-school wealth: antique furniture and oil paintings, dark wood and heavy fabric. The only thing that keeps it from being oppressive is the elegant simplicity of the architecture: long, clean lines and tall windows.

Angela—Angie—has the kitchen send up a tea tray. It’s enough food for six people, which is a blessing, because Steve is starving. He has to force himself not to be a pig.

“Nice spread,” he observes. He’s trying to remember the way he used to talk. It feels like he’s back in his USO days, playing a parody of himself.

Angie doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss. “I know! Oh, how the other half lives,” she says, comically, shoving half a raisin scone into her mouth.

Steve suddenly realizes where he knows her from: a 1951 movie musical called Life of the Party. She was billed as Ella Martin, but the cheeky grin is the same, and the strident voice. She couldn’t sing worth a lick, but she had razor-sharp comedic timing.

“So what’s your story?” asks Angie, still chewing. “How do you know Peg?”

“We met overseas during the war.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your name?”

He hesitates before replying, “My friends call me Steve.”

“That your way of telling me you want to be friends?”

“I’d like that a lot,” he tells her, with absolute sincerity.

She licks her fingers and eyes him suspiciously.

“I promise I’m not…” All the euphemisms he can think of are modern ones. “Trying to get anywhere with you,” he finishes, awkwardly.

“Good.” She nods in agreement with herself, and tops off his teacup.

Angie supplies the deficiency of the small talk, while Steve quietly polishes off most of the pastries. For the first time in days, he feels like he can let his guard down a little.

He starts to sink deeper into the plush sofa, his mind drifting pleasantly as Angie regales him with a story about a customer who tried to smuggle a cat into the automat in a briefcase.

Down the hall, the elevator dings.

“Angie?”

The sound of Peggy’s voice hits him like a sucker punch. It must show on his face because Angie asks, “You okay?”

“Fine. Thanks.” He sits up straighter, suddenly uncertain of where he should put his elbows.

“In here, Peg!” Angie hollers.

Steve can hear Peggy talking quietly—and a distinctly male voice whispering back.

“There’s someone with her,” says Steve.

“Probably just Daniel.”

“Who’s that?”

“Oh boy.” Her voice is suddenly soft, sympathetic. “Been a while since you saw her, huh?”

Before he can get the answer out, Peggy strides into view.

Her hair is different—longer than he’s ever seen it, swept over to one side in soft waves, like Veronica Lake. Her burgundy dress is perfectly molded to her magnificent figure, and has a very appealing neckline. She even has a tan, as though she’s just come home from a long beach holiday. 

She looks youthful, beautiful, vital. Happy.

“How was the picture?” calls Angie, oblivious.

“Absolute rubbish,” Peggy proclaims.

“It wasn’t that bad,” says her companion, helping her off with her coat. He’s young, good-looking, also tanned, and clearly smitten. “You’re just not very romantic, that’s all.”

“Oh!” She tosses the coat over a chair before turning to smack him on the arm. He chuckles, jokingly fending her off with his crutch.

Steve suddenly regrets not leaving a note.

(TO BE CONTINUED)

[kamechan98]

Young, Stupid, Broke And Ridiculously Happy

Prompt: “When I picture myself happy… it’s with you.”

Tony sighed for the umpteenth time in the last fifteen minutes and looked down at his watch again. 17:48. A minute had passed since the last time he looked at it. He sighed again and took a sip of his coffee. It was his third cup of coffee and the barista had looked at him a little funny when he had come back for the third time for another one, but Tony just couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d been waiting for hours now and the coffee help his worry, if only a little.

The waiting had already been unbearable ever since Steve had left for 10 months; he had to make it worse by being late? And it wouldn’t be so bad if he was only a few minutes late, like ten minutes or so, and that was including the time it took to get off the plane, get through the arrival terminal and getting his bags. But he was almost thirty-seven minutes late by now and Tony was really getting antsier by the minute.

Sigh and groan.

Another sip of coffee.

Tony had always been told he needed to work on his patience, but considering Tony had been waiting for 10 months for this day to come, dragging it out like this felt really unnecessary, not to mention unbearable. And maybe it was the caffeine or his own inability to stay still for more than a few seconds at a time or a combination of the two, but he was practically vibrating in place and had to fight against himself so wouldn’t start jumping around or run back and forth between here and the gate or something else that would make him like stupid.

Steve had promised that this would be the last time. “One last tour, Tony. One last tour and then I’m here to stay. I promise, just give me these last 10 months and then I’m all yours. I’ll leave the army forever and we’ll build a life and home together. I give you my word.”

Tony had of course not liked this. How could he? Another ten months of his boyfriend putting himself in danger and possibly dying in some morgue in Syria, yeah wasn’t that the dream of every young man in the world? But of course he’d eventually been forced to accept it all and had driven Steve to the airport a few weeks later, followed him to the security check and hugged and kissed him goodbye. It had taken all of Tony’s strength not to break down into a sobbing mess on the floor when Steve had placed his dog tags around Tony’s neck, like he always did before leaving for a tour, and had given him one last kiss before leaving and disappearing into the crowd, leaving Tony to drive home to an empty apartment.

The first few days had been torture and had spent a lot of time in bed, on the couch watching TV or sleeping through his classes at MIT. But eventually he’d been forced to get off his ass and get his life back on track. He went to his classes, got his second PhD at MIT and started to work on getting a third one while also working his part-time job as a car mechanic. He hung out with his friends one occasion, as they graduated all college and started to live their own busy adult lives. He hung out with Rhodey and helped him pick out an engagement ring for Carol and eventually try to propose (she totally beat him to it!), he, Clint, Rhodey, Sam and Thor had their Guys’ Night once a week, either getting drinks at a bar or went bowling or whatever and he bonded with Natasha over having your boyfriend overseas while they were stuck at home not knowing what was happening to their significant other. Though Tony couldn’t help but feel jealous of her, since Bucky was still home had already left the army on account of his amputated arm from his last tour.

The months did pass, if slowly, and he did receive letters from Steve- he was old-fashioned like that- telling him what was going on (as much as he could, anyway) and reassuring him that he was alright and everything was going well. He would tell him how much he loved and missed him, how he couldn’t wait to see him and would give little details or ideas for the future they wanted together.

‘We’d have to take simple jobs for while, obviously, but when we get enough money, we’ll move back to New York. Both of us are born and bred New Yorkers, we both love it there and we could have a really nice- though probably small- apartment in our city.’

‘Imagine a view over Central Park. Obviously that would be years away, even with the best of jobs to offer for kids like us. But a nice penthouse in with view like that, wouldn’t that be something?’

‘How would you feel about getting a dog? Or maybe a cat? I know we haven’t talked much about pets, but I have always wanted a dog, so how would you feel about it?’

‘I know I’ve said it like a thousand times, but God I really want to marry you someday. And I know we don’t have a lot of money right now, but once we do, I’d love to marry you. We’ll have a great wedding and we’ll invite all our friends and family and have a great time. But I really just want to spend the rest of my life with you.’

Tony smiled, just a tad dopily, in the middle of the busy, crowded airport just thinking about those letters with his hand tightly clenching the dog tags around his neck. Steve always had that effect on him, with all his sappiness and lovey-dovey words and promises. And for all of Tony’s big talk of how ridiculous and overly sappy he was and how he needed to stop being so sappy, he really loved it. Maybe it was because of the lack of love his family had showed him over the course of his life, but Steve had always found ways to get through Tony’s tough exterior and the walls he surrounded his heart with, even back when they had first met in grade school and especially after they had started dating in high school.

He had dated other people before Steve, of course he had, but no one had been like Steve. Steve, who was loving, caring and kind and the sweetest and most amazing man on the planet. Steve, who was honest and sincere utterly devoted to Tony and making sure he was happy, either by making Tony coffee every morning before he went to class or making sure he ate and slept somewhat regularly. Steve, who told Tony he loved him every single day and kissed Tony good morning and good night.

Steve had been everything he ever wanted in a boyfriend and more; he was kind and caring, funny, witty and always seemed to be able to make Tony smile. He was one of the few people in the world that could out-stubborn him and wasn’t not afraid to call him on his bullshit or get into arguments- both light-hearted ones and more serious ones- with him and refuse to back down before Tony did or before one of them made a good enough point to prove that the other was wrong. He was also always there to ground Tony whenever he was getting lost in work or just needed to get his head out of his crazy ideas and reined him in when he was being reckless.

And while Steve had started out being skinny and shorter than Tony, he eventually hit a major growth spurt and shot past Tony and grew muscles in places Tony didn’t know had muscles, which not only made him very attractive (not that Tony hadn’t thought he was before, but c’mon, the guy had serious abs and muscles) but also developed a protective streak and would stand up to anyone who tried to hurt or bully Tony. Steve had always been an amazing friend, one of Tony’s best friends ever, but after having asked him out and eventually confessed his feelings, he had become the kind of boyfriend that only seemed to exist in those ‘Relationship Goals’ posts he saw on Instagram. But as sappy and lovey-dovey as Steve was, Tony had fallen head over heels in love with him and knew he never wanted to let go of him.

Howard had blown a gasket over Tony falling for the ‘broke, lowly nobody from Brooklyn’ he had met in grade school and that had been the point where he really wanted to disown Tony, which he eventually did once Tony went to college, moved into a small apartment with Steve and made it very clear he wasn’t going to do whatever Howard wanted him to do with his life, i.e. take over Stark Industries and make weapons like him. Tony, however, had never let that bother him too much. He was young and in love and who was Howard to tell him to live his life anyway? Steve was the best thing that had ever happened to him and Tony would be the biggest moron on this side of the universe if he ever let him go. Jarvis had told him on the day he had graduated college, after Steve had hugged him and kissed him and told him how proud he was of him, that “finding someone as loving, devoted and loyal this is a rare, once in a blue moon occurrence, especially at your age. Don’t waste it, Young sir.” And it was a piece of advice that he was very happy to follow, even three years later.

Tony smiled again, his eyes getting a little wet with emotion and still clutching those dog tags very tightly, when a voice broke through his thoughts, making his head jerk up and his breath got stuck in his throat.

“Tony!”

Finally.

Steve was coming in through the gates, running as fast as he could with all the people around him, more or less shoving people aside when he couldn’t run around them. He was looking around the airport, clearly looking for someone; his face was a mix of eager impatience and held back anticipation.

“Tony!”

Steve. Steve was here, alive and whole and all right.

He was finally home.

Tony was running before he even fully realized he was moving at all. He bumped into some guy, the half-full take-away cup of coffee flying out of his hand and onto the floor and he almost slipped in the puddle of coffee as he ran faster. He heard somewhere behind him someone yelling at him for making a mess, but he couldn’t care less, because Steve was home and he was here, only a few feet away from him and fuck it if Tony was gonna waste another second waiting any longer. He cried out “Steve!” but just that second there was an announcement over the loudspeakers, which kinda drowned out his voice.

Steve must’ve heard the yell however, or spotted Tony moving, because he finally turned in his direction and the smile that spread across his face threatened to split his face in two. He threw his bags down and started running too and before Tony’s brain could fully process it all, he threw his arms around Steve, wrapped his arms tightly around Steve’s neck and pressed his face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and letting tears of relief and happiness fall, the weight that he had been carrying around for a whole year now finally lifting and disappearing.

“Steve.” He whispered into his boyfriend’s neck, only barely keeping his sobs at bay, though when he heard, and felt, that Steve was also struggling to hold back his own tears it felt a little easier to release them.

“Tony.” Steve whispered back into Tony’s hair, his grip around Tony tightening and Tony gasped a little when he was suddenly lifted of floor and spun around like a girl in a romantic movie. He tightened his grip around Steve as he was spun around, more out of instinct than anything else, but whatever. The closer he could be to Steve right now the better.

“You’re here. You’re home. Oh my god, Steve, I’ve missed you so much!” Tony could barely speak through the tears and sobs, but he managed to rein them in enough to be at least somewhat understood while still crying. Though, given how Steve was shaking about as much as Tony was at the moment, he probably couldn’t talk much more than Tony at the moment.

Steve drew a shaky breath and sniffled loudly before finally talking. “Yeah, I’m here now. I’m home, oh Tony, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He gently put Tony back down on the ground but pressed him close up to his chest, burying his face in Tony’s hair.

Tony sniffed and nuzzled his face into Steve’s shirt, wiping tears and snot on the fabric and finding himself unable to care in the slightest. “I’m not letting you leave again. You’re not gonna go anywhere near that shit again, you’re gonna stay right here with me forever from now on, do you hear me? That’s not a suggestion, it’s an order Soldier.”

Steve huffed a wet laugh and pressed his cheek against Tony’s head, his arms tightening around him, so much that it kinda hurt and made it a little hard to breathe. But, again, whatever, Tony could take it. He and Steve hadn’t seen each other for a whole year; he would take it all the attention and love Steve had to give him.

“Well, I guess I have my orders, General Stark. And trust me, I have no intentions of ever letting you go, ever again. I thought I made that clear when we were still in high school.”

Tony chuckled and pressed a kiss on Steve’s throat before gently pulling away to get a better look of him. Steve tried to keep him close, gently trying to push him back into his chest, but Tony eventually managed to pull back enough to get a good look of his boyfriend.

Steve was dressed in his army uniform, sans the hat, his blonde hair was a shaggy and messy and he had grown a scruffy beard in the time he had been gone. He had no visible injuries, bruises or abrasions on his person and though he looked a bit skinner than he had been since Tony last saw him, he looked fairly alright considering the circumstances, aside from his eyes and face being wet and red with tears.

Tony smiled widely and raised his hands to Steve’s face, gently stroking the apples of his cheeks and tried to wipe away his tears- though that turned out to be rather futile as more tears just kept coming anyway- which made Steve’s smile widen back at him and put his own hands over Tony’s as he leaned into his touch, squeezing them tightly and pressing them to his face.

It almost looked like Steve was trying to convince himself that he was finally home and with his boyfriend again just as much as Tony was.

Tony chuckled softy, stood on his toes to kiss Steve’s nose and then buried his fingers in Steve’s beard. “Okay, some real talk here, babe, what the hell is this? Do they not let you shave in Syria? Or are we trying to be the next Robinson Crusoe?

Steve laughed softly and squeezed Tony’s wrists, blinking away the remaining tears from his eyes. “No, no, they do. I guess I’ve just been busy thinking about other stuff to bother with things like shaving.”

Tony smiled teasingly at him with a raised eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Steve smiled down at him with such adoration and unquestionable love that it made Tony’s stomach drop and his heart stutter and he almost teared up again. He gently let go of Tony’s wrists and reached out one hand towards Tony’s face, gently stroking his knuckles over his cheek and wiping a tear away with his thumb.

“Making it home to you.” He placed a kiss on Tony’s forehead. “I meant what I said before, you know. I’m here to stay, Tony, for as long as you’ll have me. You have to know that I adore you and I want to spend forever with you. I’m done leaving you behind for these missions, I promise. From today, I’m done. It’ll be just you and me from now on, if you’ll have me.”

“Of course I’ll have you. I love you more than anything in my life.” Tony wanted to say, but he couldn’t get the words out. His tongue was frozen in his mouth and he couldn’t get it to work for him.

Steve continued with a soft smile, but he also looked… well, kinda emotional. He let go of Tony’s face and took his hands, holding them tightly. “Tony, you know I mean it, right? I adore you, Tony. I love everything about you and don’t ever want us to be apart for this long ever again.”

He paused and looked down at the floor, suddenly looking smaller and not quite as confident as he usually did.

“I know my degree doesn’t count for much. There’s limited jobs for people with an Art’s Degree and I don’t have much as it is. I have absolutely nothing to offer you that is up to the standards that you are used to, but if you let me, I’ll do everything I can make sure to treat you to everything I can, especially after everything I’ve put you through with my tours and work in the army. Not to mention how your asshole father has treated you throughout your life. You deserve to be treated like a prince and I’ll dedicate my life to make sure you get everything you deserve.”

“Steve…” Tony’s mouth was suddenly dry as a dessert and he could barely move or talk, only stare up at his boyfriend.

Steve smiled and placed one hand over Tony’s cheek, stroking his thumb under Tony’s eye. “I mean it, sweetheart. You’ve had such a rough life and you’ve still turned out an amazing man. You’re smart, kind, brave, generous, funny and you’ve worked so hard to get where you are today and I’m so proud of you and to be your boyfriend. And I know we’re young and stupid and just a bit above broke, but I don’t care, I want you now and forever. I’ve thinking a lot of this and when I picture myself happy…” He leaned down and pressed a kiss on Tony’s mouth. “It’s with you.”

Tears were falling from Tony’s eyes by this point and he was just barely holding back his sobs and his smile was so big it physically hurt. He sniffed and tried to snark back at Steve but it didn’t come out quite as snarky as he had wanted and more like a sob.

“Man Rogers, you can’t keep giving me this much sap, you’ll give me cavities.” Not his best line, but it was the best he could deliver considering the circumstances.

Steve chuckled and pressed a kiss to Tony’s forehead. “Well, I’ll buy you a new toothbrush and toothpaste before we get home then. But before that, I have something I have to ask.” He squeezed the hand he was still holding before letting go and taking a small step back.

And then he got down on one knee.

Tony was vaguely aware of gasps of shock and anticipation from the crowd of people around them but he was stuck staring at Steve with wide eyes and his jaw hanging open, his hands flying up to cover his wide open mouth. Steve took out a small, black box from his pocket, popped it open and revealed a ring. It was fairly modest ring, nothing too extravagant or fancy, just simple golden band and a small diamond at the center.

It was the most beautiful ring Tony had ever seen.

Steve smiled widely up at him. “Tony Stark, you are the love of my life and I want you to be my partner in everything. Will you marry me?”

‘Oh my God.’ That was the only thing going through his mind at the moment. ‘He’s proposing. He’s actually fucking proposing to me!’

Tony hadn’t given marriage too much thought since before dating Steve, and even then it wasn’t until their relationship had started to become serious. But after having talked to Steve about it, after having read Steve’s letters and how much he loved him and that he really wanted to spend the rest of his earthly days with him.

And God, if it wasn’t everything Tony had ever wanted.

Tony was nodding with happy tears running down his face, saying “Yes, yes, yes!” over and over again before running up to Steve and throwing himself around his neck again. Steve wrapped his arms tightly around Tony before lifting him off his feet again and spinning him around. He heard cheers and applause around them, but paid them no heed; the only thing going through his head at the moment was ‘Oh My God, Steve Rogers just asked me to fucking marry him!’

Steve pressed kisses on every inch of skin he could reach, arms tightly wrapped around his waist spinning him around for a good minute before putting Tony down on his feet again, though Tony still had his arms around Steve’s neck and Steve placed his hands on his hips. He had a big, blinding smile and tears in his eyes.

He chuckled disbelievingly. “21 years old, son of one of the biggest minds and business men of the last century and has enough brains and passion to revolutionize the world one day, and you’d settle for a broke, art graduate and soldier from Brooklyn? One day you’ll have the entire world at your feet, able to take your pick, and you still choose me.” He pressed his forehead to Tony’s. “You still want me.”

Tony tried to smirk, but it looked less cocky and confident and more wide and joyous and tearful. “Steve, babe, two things: First, this is not me ‘settling’ for you. I have dated several people before you and no one has ever been as good to me as you. Even Pepper, bless her heart, had a rocky time with all of my broken parts and ugly history. Sure, maybe ten years from now I will be successful and rich and have a big house and ten cars or whatever, but no one in the world could ever be better to me than you.”

Steve’s smile widened and a few more tears fell down his cheek and Tony raised his hands to his face, gently wiping them away. “And two, how long have we been friends? Fifteen years? You have always been the best friend I could ever ask for, even before you asked me on a date, or confessed you loved me. You’ve looked after me when I was in trouble; let me cry on your shoulder after fights with my dad or when a boyfriend or girlfriend turned out to be a bust. And you’ve always been there for me to rein me in when I get lost in work or school or when I’m just being stupid, when I’m being an asshole or when I just need to get my head out of my ass. You have always been there for me, even before I was a genius and dad tried to exploit it.”

Tony smiled and had to clear his throat so his sobs wouldn’t make his voice crack. He stroked one hand over Steve’s bearded cheek. “So what kind of idiot would I be to let go of the best thing that ever happened to me?”

Steve’s eyes were overfilled with tears at this point and Tony pressed a kiss on his nose, leaning in close to his ear. “Now, let’s go home. We’ll pick up pizza on the way home.” He slowly started to pull away, but Steve grabbed his hand before he got too far away.

“Of course, but first,” He took the ring out of the box and gently put it on Tony’s ring finger. Tony gently pulled his hand out of Steve’s grip to get a closer look at it, and now that he wasn’t in complete surprise by Steve proposing and he got a closer look at it, he recognized it very quickly.

“Steve, this is your mom’s ring!” Steve smiled widely and placed his arms around Tony’s waist.

“Yes it is. She gave it to me when I told her I wanted to ask you to marry me. I had to go and have it a bit adjusted so it would fit your finger, but other than that it the exact same ring.” He blushed a little and rubbed the back of his head. “I… heh, carried it with me everywhere while in Syria. For motivation, I guess. I figured if I kept carrying it around with me it would help me remember what I had back home. That I had the love of my life waiting for me back home and I really, really wanted to marry him.”

Tony smiled and huffed a small laugh, a few tears forming in his eyes before blinking them away. “Yeah? And how did that work for you?”

Steve smirked and shrugged lightly. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’d say it worked out just great for me. Especially since I have you know.” He placed his arm around Tony’s shoulders and hugged him close, letting Tony rest his head in the crook of his neck.

Tony ran a finger over the golden band and the diamond and then looked up at Steve again. He smiled softly at him, and then he smirked and hip checked Steve in the side. “You realize that if dad ever finds out about this he’ll skin you alive, chop your balls off and turn them into Christmas ornaments, right? He hates your guts, probably blames you for my decision to turn my back on the company.”

Steve smirked back but there was a dangerous fire in his blue eyes. “Yeah I know, but fuck Howard Stark, I’m not afraid of him. If he has anything to say about our engagement or relationship he can say it to my face. If he has the balls that is.”

Steve smiled and his eyes softened, placing both hands on Tony’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes, his eyes are full of sincerity and love. “Tony, you shouldn’t think too much about Howard and what he’ll think. I have never cared about his opinion; I hate him just as much as he hates me. But I love you and I want you, and if that means I have to deal with him being a dick about it, I’ll gladly deal with that.” He lifted one hand and stroke it over Tony’s cheek. “I love you enough to handle anything. I’ve seen war at this point, I doubt there’s anything Howard Stark can say or do to keep us apart or make me stop loving you.”

Tony’s mouth was open, eyes wide and started to fill with tears again, but he started to blink, hoping to kill them before they could fall and he chuckled. “Fuck you, Rogers. You’ve made me cry like five times in less than thirty minutes today, you fucking asshole. I should give you the ring right back for making me this emotional today, you know I hate feelings.”

Steve laughed fondly and gently stroke his hand through Tony’s hair, pressing a light kiss to his temple. “Oh? Well, I guess I’ll have to change your mind then. How about I buy us some dinner, you pick a movie and we’ll have a nice long night together. And over the weekend, we’ll have some fun. You choose what we do, for the whole weekend, no work or anything like that. Just you and me, what do you say?”

Tony smiled teasingly and bumped his shoulder against Steve’s arm. “Well, I guess that’s a good start.”

Steve smirked and then crouched down a little, one arm around Tony’s shoulders, but when he tried to place his arm around the back of Tony’s knees, Tony stepped away and smiled.

“Uh, not that I’m against what you’re thinking at the moment, but don’t you think you need both hands for your bags?” Steve blinked, a bit surprised and looked back over his shoulders at the bags he had dumped on the floor. Then he looked back at Tony and then he stubbornly set his jaw and a determined look formed on his face and he quickly stomped over to the bags. He swung one of them across his back and then walked over to Tony with the other bag, a slightly smaller duffle bag, and had a mischievous spark in his eyes and dumped it in Tony’s arms.

“Hey, hold this for me, doll?” Tony took the bag, a bit surprised, but before he could respond, Steve grabbed him around the shoulders and knees again and swept him in his arms. Tony gasped a little and clutched the bag tightly to his chest (it wasn’t heavy, probably just some clothes and personal items) before laughing and hiding his face in Steve’s neck as he started to walk towards the doors.

“Steve, people are looking!” Not that Tony actually minded that people looked, they could stare all they wanted for all he cared, but he still couldn’t help flushing at Steve’s very open affections for him. PDA got nothing on Steve Rogers.

Steve grinned and rested his cheek against Tony’s hair, pressing a kiss against his forehead. His grip around Tony tightened slightly and adjusted his grip a little, so Tony could rest his head against his shoulder. “Let them look. I have been waiting to hold you and kiss you again for ten fucking months, so you’re crazy if you think I’m letting you go ever again.”

Tony shook his head with a small laugh before letting himself relax and rest against Steve’s body, pressing his lips to Steve’s neck. He suddenly felt drained of all energy after all the emotion that he’d gone through just now and was now more than okay with Steve carrying him out of the airport and to the car so they could go home.

They’d probably stop by the pizza place on the way home, or they’d order for delivery when they got home. They’d pick a movie to watch while eating but eventually start to pay more attention to each other than the movie. Steve would pull him close and hold him throughout the whole night, even when they would need to go to bed. Tony would cling onto Steve too, making sure to himself that he was actually home and this wasn’t some kind of dream. He’d probably finger on the engagement ring on his finger to make sure that was real too, because it still felt like a dream.

The whole weekend would probably be much of the same, but really, Tony was more than fine with that. Steve was here too stay forever now, away from the army and had asked him to marry him.

They could spare a few days to celebrate this before going back to real life.

Tony sighed and nuzzled his face into Steve’s shoulder, closing his eyes. “I love you.”

He didn’t see Steve’s face but he heard him chuckle fondly and held him a little tighter and kissed his hair. “I love you too, Tony.”

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

When a God Finds a Girl (part 10)

A/N: SMUT. Smutty Smut. 18+ We go from Slow burn to inferno real quick so... you were warned.

The others just let the two of you sleep, staying quiet inside and keeping the party outside by the lake. You both looked tired and not the “staying up all night fucking,” tired that would have made them feel more inclined to wake you up. Besides, It’s sweet. Thor has you pinned against him, your long damp hair wrapped around his fingers, holding your head to his heart. The way you’re tangled up is innocent and comfortable. Something they know you’ve been in desperate need of since yesterday morning. So they let it go. Even Sam can’t grumble too much, at least Thor doesn’t have a handful of your ass or something.

It’s afternoon and the two of you finally stir, you because Traeger pushes a cold wet nose into the exposed small of your back and Thor because Traeger is eye level with him panting. You stir making soft kitten-like sounds and Thor chuckles, patting the dog’s head, “Couldn’t let me keep her to myself, could you?” he rumbled fondly, kissing your head as you set up slowly, rubbing your eyes. Traeger ruffs softly and plonks his head in your lap and you scratch it absently while getting your bearings. Thor feels like he can’t breathe for a moment. You look enchanting. A goddess, a forest nymph, someone he couldn’t dream up if he tried. Your hair has dried into a fluffy, wild mass. Your lips and cheeks are rosy. And your sleepy eyes are making him think of what you’d look like, satiated and looking up at him for goodnight kisses after he’s loved you. And you don’t even know how much he wants you. Thor silently decides that he better step up his efforts. You don’t seem to know how precious you are and that’s a crime against the gods. “Thank you,” you say softly when you can string the words together. Thor hummed, “For what, pet?” he asked. “For letting me sleep on you.” Thor sat up and kissed your cheek, “I should be thanking you,” he murmured, “I got to sleep for hours holding you and feeling all your beautiful curves pressed against me.” 

Your cheeks color and Thor chuckles, kissing your cheek again. “It was truly the best nap I have ever had,” he insisted, “not that I wouldn’t love to do it again after some slightly... less chaste circumstances.” You look at him slowly. You knew Thor liked you but he’d never been so forward. You bite your lip and smile a little. Thor feels his own heart flutter but you’ve gotten off the couch before he can tease out the meaning of the look you just gave him. Thor follows you, still shirtless and sweats slung low on his hips. Natasha and Bucky are teasing you gently but no one is actually irritated. Sam actually looks a little relieved that you look better. Not 100% but better. You’re wearing a tank top and some short shorts. Things that aren’t really “decent” to wear in public but still cover most of your body compared to your bikini. Thor now that he’s awake appreciates the effect of the shorts, he could admire that view for hours but averts his eyes making a mental note to have you put them back on when you’re alone. He wraps his arms around you from behind, a small possessive gesture and kisses your head.

You lean back into him almost without thinking, it had been nice all the times he held you. This is no different. It just feels so warm and safe that you don’t even mind his light possessiveness. Without really trying he’s soothing places in your soul that you didn’t know needed to be soothed. You wonder what it would be like, calling him your own. If he’d really want you after he’d seen all the exciting ways you could try and lose your mind. 

_________

It’s the last night at the lake and everyone turns in early once the house is mostly tidied up and the fridges and cupboards are cleared. You and Nat giggle and gossip about the boys, falling asleep holding hands. In a way, you both decided you needed a friend and so you just adopted each other. The spy is thankful. Her world is awash with men and sometimes a little girl talk is good for the soul. Thor is up early. He makes you coffee and waits patiently for you to come out of your bedroom. Your bag is packed and on your shoulder to be put in the jeep. Thor kisses you good morning making you blush, and hands you your coffee, taking your bag to go put it in the car. “You’re not even dating her and she’s got you trained,” Bucky teased from the porch with his own mug. Thor grinned, “She’s hosted us in her home for 5 whole days,” he said, “the least I can do is carry her bag.” Bucky snorted, “You say that until you’re tied to her bed and calling her daddy.” Thor pauses, “Is that not supposed to do something for me?” he asked, “Y/N could do whatever she liked to me but I’m pretty sure her tastes are probably not as exotic.” Bucky laughed, “I hate trying to joke with you sometimes. None of the dirty jokes ever phase you.” Steve kisses his cheek, “1500-year-old demigod, Buck.” Steve reminded him, “He’s probably been around a few blocks. A few times.”

The boys quiet at the sound of your footsteps and you walk by them, cheeks burning, and studiously not looking at any of them. You’ve done your fair share of ho-ing around, especially when you were high all the time but hearing it talked about so casually was uncomfortable. Traeger is oblivious and pulls you ahead, eager to run, so you follow, leaving them all in the dust. “Well now I feel like a dick,” Bucky said. “You should,” Natasha said, smacking the back of his head. She trots after you, smacking Thor on the arm on the way, catching up to you easily. While the two of you are gone, Sam presses them into service to help him get the house cleaned and locked down properly. He knows that those idiots have just been offensive somehow but he assumes you can handle it. When you return, Everyone is waiting outside having one last beer, “It’s 10am Sam,” you say laughing. “Yeah, but we runnin’ on lake time still. It’s always beer thirty on lake time,” he answers. You roll your eyes and Bucky hands you a beer in silent apology. You take it and gently punch his flesh arm, “I could take you if I had to,” you warn playfully, making him laugh. “I don’t doubt it.” You all finish your drinks and throw the bottles in the recyclables bag with the other sundry cans and bottles and Everyone gets into their respective vehicle, Thor swings himself into your jeep and you put Traeger in the back seat. Once you roll down the driveway, the others follow. 

Thor kisses your hand and laces your fingers together as you put your shades on against the sun. A warmth settles in his chest and he decides to take a plunge, “Y/N?” he asks, “Would you mind if I stayed the night with you tonight?” You look at Thor and smirk, “Well, I guess I don’t exactly have to go to work tomorrow,” you say, “And my apartment will be a little lonely.” Thor grinned and settled back in his seat. He liked it when you flirted with him. He also liked the thought of you wrapped around him whispering his name like a prayer as he made you come apart. 

The others head back to the compound without even wondering where Thor was going. The God of Thunder clearly had more on his mind than unpacking his bags and getting settled in. Sam tried very hard not to think about it. It was clear Thor was going to pursue you now whether Sam liked it or not. He just hoped the God knew what he was doing. He really didn’t want to have to kill him when he broke your heart. 

Thor enjoys the ride back to the city. He listens to you sing, he even sings along if he knows the words. One of his massive hands rests on your thigh and the other is behind his head. He looks so lazy and content that your heart does little backflips every time you look at him. When you pull up in front of your building, Thor helps you with the bags so you can manage Traeger up the steps but, any pretense at being a gentleman stops the moment the door closes and the dog is off his leash. He pulls you against him and claims your lips in a hot hungry kiss that makes you moan softly. The god chuckles as your hands fumble for the hem of his shirt and he practically rips it in his haste to pull it off himself.  He kisses you again and his hands find your ass to lift you up so he can set you on the nearest flat surface that happens to be your kitchen table. You wrap your legs around him and toy with the waistband of his jeans teasingly sneaking a hand down to caress his growing bulge. Thor groans and nips your throat, “So eager for me,” he teases, feathering ticklish kisses over your throat and collar bones before easily stripping you out of your tank top and bra to free your breasts. The sight of them bare makes him gasp softly. They’re more beautiful than he dreamed of and he wastes no time lavishing kisses and nibbles on them and singing their praises. Heat pools between your thighs as he takes his time exploring you. By the time he removes your shorts, he can hardly contain himself. He feels like an inexperienced youth again and his hands are trembling as he slides a finger into your wet folds, “Very eager for me,” he pants, touching you lightly. You’re beautifully responsive for him and he loves the way you sigh and shudder when he touches you so intimately. “Take me to bed?” you ask softly, “Please, Thor?” Thor closes his eyes. The way you say his name in the heat of your passion makes his knees quake. It’s like a jolt of lightning to his prick and he throbs for you. He has no choice but to comply, sweeping you into his arms and following your whispered instructions to your bed. 

Thor sets you gently on the bed and you waste no time in getting him out of his jeans as he toes off his sandals. When his dripping cock springs free at last he sighs in relief as the pressure from his jeans eases. You look up at him, heat in your eyes and slowly, teasingly lick up the underside of his thick shaft while gazing into his eyes. Thor groans half in agony half in bliss and silently begs for you to do that again, but you don’t. You lap at his cock head, little kittenish licks and grin at him when he makes a choking sound, “Let me ride you?” you ask, “If I don’t get you inside me soon it might kill me.” Thor laughs, a hearty belly laugh and traces your lip with his thumb, “I can’t have that,” he said, voice husky, “To let such a beauty go to waste is a crime against the gods.” He lays down on the bed with another groan and you straddle his hips, positioning yourself over him. Thor kneads your hips gently, helping you ease yourself on to him and you moan softly as you take all of him in. Thor is still, letting you adjust but he wants to rut into you so badly it hurts. “So tight for me,” he gasped. You grin at him, starting to move slowly, “You’re just huge.” He pinches your hip making you yelp and brings the other hand around to caress the little bundle of nerves he knows will make you come apart. You sigh, moving a little faster as you get used to the feel of him inside you. You ride him like your life depends on it, desperate to feel him come for you, desperate to come for him. It’s better than ecstasy. Just Thor’s gaze on you, growling about how pretty your tits look bouncing as you ride him. The sound of him growling like a beast as he drives you to orgasm on his prick, your slick juices all over his cock and his fingers. You’re burning so hot for him that you feel like you’re going to burst into flames. Thor does come with a howl and his grip on your hips is going to leave you sore but you don’t care. You ride him through his climax, milking him for every drop. And when he pulls you to his chest to hold you, you go, panting and sweating, trembling. 

Thor flips you underneath him like you weigh nothing and gently disengages from you, lavishing kisses on your belly and breasts as he parts your thighs again. The god of Thunder is not done making you come apart. He won’t be satisfied until you’re so sleepy and satiated that his kiss can’t stoke any more fire in you. You laugh softly, “Thor,” you start, but the laugh turns into a wanton moan as his tongue finds your clit. He can taste you and himself as he laps at you greedily. You’re overstimulated but god, god does it feel good. His clever tongue soothes the start of an ache where his cock was almost too much for you and you tumble into orgasm, again, and again, and then again, until you lose count. They come so quickly and the God offers you no quarter. He laps at you, hungry for you, as if he’d never tasted anything so sweet. When he finally does stop, you’re a limp, boneless, panting mess. When he pulls you into his arms, you go willingly. “Thor,” you whisper. And your lover only hushes you with a kiss, humming softly to lure you into rest, hoping to keep the quiet of the night ahead from making you feel like using.

Tags: @lancsnerd @amalthea9 @fatheadtheroger

[mikayfics18]

Visions of Winter

Chapter 2

A/N: Okay soooo it’s been about two or three years?😅 But hey! I wrote chapter two. I’m going to try to be more adamant about writing and posting this story. Life got in the way for awhile, but I’m determined to keep my creative juices flowing!! Any feedback on this would be lovely🤗

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Reader wakes up in Bucky’s apartment after the night before, not knowing if she should follow through with what has been asked of her.

Warning: fluff, some swearing, implied sexy times

Words: 1.9k

Read chapter 1 here

You can't recall if it was the sounds of city life below, or the pull of strong, comforting arms holding you closer that woke you up first, but either way, you were content with where you awoke to. It was much better than the reality of your night terrors that were surprisingly absent all night.

You peek down, observing the veins that danced across Bucky's forearm that was lazily curled around your hip, not being able to help the slight hitch of your heartbeat. As you gently trace random patterns over the back of his hand with your fingers, you can't help but think, Even the simplest things about him are so perfect. A soft noise behind you told you he was just waking up.

You smile as he pulls you closer to him with a soft mumble, "Mmmmmmorning, (y/n)."

"Haha, good morning... I'm surprised you remembered the right name," you joke.

"Hey," he chuckles, "of course I did. Don't be a brat."

You let out a little squeal as he nuzzles his nose behind your ear. "No! Don't make me laugh! I have to go pee so bad."

Bucky snorts and releases you from his cuddly clutches. "Fine, fine! Go pee. I'll start making breakfast."

You quickly climb out of the tangle of blankets and pillows and make your way to the bathroom on the opposite wall of the complex while Bucky sat up to stretch his arms over his head. You can’t help but glance back at him and blush as his navy blue T-shirt rode up mid-stretch, ever so slightly showing the tantalizing V-shape of his hip muscles. Spinning your head back around before he notices - (he definitely noticed) - you walk into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you with a huff.

Why am I so nervous? Oh yeah, probably cuz I have no alcohol in me, you think to yourself with a groan.

After freshening yourself up (thank god, Bucky owns mouth wash), you put both hands on either side of his sink and look at yourself in the mirror. Okay, calm down. Caaaalm down, (y/n). He's just another guy. A dude. No need to be so fidgety right now. You couldn’t help it though, something about him caught you off guard and you weren’t quite sure why. You gave yourself one last glance in the mirror, making sure you looked somewhat decent so early in the morning. There were still some remnants of mascara and eyeliner smudged around your eyes, but it was better than what you’ve woken up looking like in the past. A shudder went down your spine as some memories played for a split second in your mind, but you shake your head to wish them away as you spin on your heel and head for the door.

Bucky was humming a random tune as you entered the open space, the smells and sounds of eggs cooking filling your senses. You breathe in deep, shut your eyes, and let out a sigh, once again thinking how nice a scenario like this would be to have every morning. Opening your eyes again, you lock with piercing blue ones as they sparkle from the soft smile playing on the man’s face they belonged to.

“I hope you like eggs, doll,” Bucky says to you as he stirs the food in the skillet, his eyes not leaving yours.

You felt the heat go to your ears again at the simple, welcoming site before you. A stranger you barely knew, yet felt like you had some connection to somehow, was contently making you breakfast. The sun was peeking through the tall windows, sending a soft, golden glow across the room that finally rested on the scene in the kitchen. It felt almost like a dream to you the way the warm light danced across Bucky’s skin and made his eyes and smile glimmer - it was almost too much.

“Y-yes,” you finally breathed out. “Eggs are perfect.”

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

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day? Will you be staying in town long or?” You hear Bucky ask from the kitchen table behind you. You were rinsing off your plate - which he insisted he would take care of, but you already felt guilty for eating his food and using his clothes as is. You could tell he was trying to sound casual, but as you put the plate away and turned to look at him, his eyes said another story. It still caught you off guard how vulnerable his eyes made him - they told you everything on his mind that you needed to know without hesitation. There was no poker face with Bucky Barnes.

You sigh and reply with, “I’m not sure if I’m being honest.” You weren’t being honest. You knew what you were there for. You knew the job HE sent you there to do. But after all this, you felt like you might hate yourself if you follow through. Especially after staying with the man you were assigned to kill. “I was only planning on being here for a couple of days.”

Bucky looked down as he nodded, lips pursing in thought. He didn’t want to be rude and keep you from doing whatever it was that you were in the city for, but for whatever reason, he felt like he would be giving up on something potentially amazing if he let you slip away forever now. “Would you like to come dancing with me and Stevie tonight? I understand if you have other plans. But if I’m being honest here, I really enjoyed my time with you so far and I’d love to legitimately take you out on a more fun experience than playing card games with two dorks in a dingy bar,” he says, chuckling at the last part.

Once again, those honest, grey-blue eyes were pleadingly staring at you and you inwardly curse yourself at being so weak. The more you’re around him getting to know him, the harder it will be to finish the job. You give him a small smile, feigning indecisiveness, then finally say, “Sure, I’d love to. But I have to get back to my place first to get ready for such a fun night.”

If Bucky could grin from ear to ear, he would have. “Understandable! I’ll call you a cab and text you what time I’ll be picking you up.” He stands up and walks over to you, stopping only a few inches away. With him this close, it’s very obvious the height difference between you and the man you’re looking up at. He lifts one hand up, cupping the curve between the back of your neck and skull gently. “Besides,” he murmurs, eyes drifting over the features of your face, “sober me still hasn’t gotten the chance to do this.” He finally pulls you in, closing the gap between your faces. His mouth is delicate on yours at first - in stark contrast to what happened last night - testing the waters as he glides his tongue tentatively across your bottom lip. It’s your turn to make the next move, and you take it readily, cupping both sides of his face and pressing your whole body into his. You shudder feeling the heat radiate off him as he lets out a quiet groan and pulls you in further.

Bucky lifts you up onto the kitchen counter, breaking the contact between you two for only a moment as he pulls his shirt over his head, and then he’s back to making your mind go blank the way his mouth moves against yours. Your hands travel up his broad chest, feeling the curve of his lean muscles under your fingertips. He shivers at your touch, and it makes you wonder how else he might react to other things you could do. You decide to move your mouth away from his and attach it to the right side of his neck, just under his chin.

“F-fucking hell, (Y/N),” he growls as he tilts his head further to the side while you nip and suck at that sweet spot. That language sends a wave of electricity to your core and you’re not sure how patient you can be anymore. You pull away from him, smirking at the disappointed noise he makes, but his expression turns carnal the second you pull your own shirt over your head. You don’t sleep with a bra on, so this view was much different from the red lacy one he saw the night before. “You’re perfect,” he breathes out, and this time your heart skips a beat because you know he means it.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you demand with a sigh, and he follows suit with his chest once again pressed up against yours and hands pulling at your bottoms.

It’s not like you hadn’t joined in lewd practices for a job before, hadn’t heard all the sounds Bucky made and words he said before from other men, hadn’t enjoyed the moment before. Most of the time, it was part of the job - to get the target comfortable with you; to make them let down their guard; to trust you. But this was different, and this was dangerous because it was intoxicating. Being with this man like this was making you dislike the fact that he needed to be dead within the next 24 hours, per the order of the leader of your Hydra division.

It wasn’t Bucky’s fault he heard what he did five days ago, but that didn’t matter to Hydra. They knew a soldier of theirs had gone to Bucky’s bar and gotten a little too loose with his words the more he drank. Bucky didn’t seem to mind - why would he? He was used to all sorts of stories from people that couldn’t stop themselves from revealing all of their secrets to a man that came off so welcoming and unprejudiced towards what was said. Half the time, he wasn’t really listening, lost in his own thoughts while he cleaned the glasses and poured more drinks. He got into the habit of nodding along and chiming in here and there where his words seemed fit. So when this undercover Hydra agent came into his bar, somewhat distraught and now uncaring with the secrets he swore to keep, Bucky thought no different of it. The man slipped into German the more he drank, so it wasn’t like Bucky could even understand that the agent was spilling all their plans for world domination. Even so, Bucky was now a liability to the group, and liabilities needed to be dealt with one way or another.

That’s where you came in - an orphan girl, found on the streets of New York at seven years old. That seemed like a lifetime ago, after they took you in and trained you to be the deadly woman you were today. In fact, you were the one that found the betraying agent and put an end to his now worthless life just hours before you walked into said bar. You were always robotic with your actions, with your missions. If they could tell you were slipping up and becoming soft, they had all sorts of ways to snap you out of it, ways that made you never want to feel another emotion again. Yet there you were, getting lost in stormy-skied eyes and the roll of his hips, losing whatever control you had left.

[james-bucky-barnackle]

Two Night Stand (Part 11)

Synopsis: (AU) You found yourself at a club drinking away to forget about the stress of your shitty job as the assistant of the biggest Editor in New York, and end up hooking up with the man of your dreams only to wake up to a nightmare when you find out he’s the son of your boss.

PART 10 | 2NS Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: idk if fluff is a warning, but dis wild too.

Word Count: 4,033

A/N: this chapter is full of dialogue, dialogue, dialogue ALSO: TELL ME YOUR OPINIONS AND HEAD CANONS FOR THIS SERIES? Let’s be friends! (Also, I’m employed now, as an assistant... might get a lot busier. ilytho

“Aren’t you going to change?” Bucky asks as I pat the bed again.

“I could just take my pants off.” I mumbled, wiggling off my satin flare pants.

“Need help?” he says and I bite my lip nodding slowly. He pulls the fabric off my legs, tickling my skin.

“Bed.” I wailed when he gets it off. He squints and runs a hand through his hair, the other on his waist. I open and close my other hand, motioning him to lie down. “Beeeed.” I force myself up and grab his arm pulling him with me as I crash back onto my mattress.

“Oof!” He laughs when we land and I inch closer. I nuzzle myself in his neck, smelling him. His hand is under my head and he pulls me closer. He doesn’t expect it when I start kissing, tiny pecks under his jaw. I hear him grunt, a heavy breath from his lips. I sit up and straddle him, he covers both his eyes laughing. “What are you doing?”

“Bed.”

“Bed?” he asks, and I lean in and continue kissing the other side of his neck. “I thought you were tired?”

“I change my mind.” I say in between kisses.

“Doll you need to-“ Bucky says and I cut his words when I start swirling my tongue on his skin. “Oh, fuck me.” He surrenders before he puts both his hands on my head and guides me to his lips. I grin as my lips make contact with him.

“I intend to.”

“You’re something, you know that?” Buck whispers before he grabs my waist and he turns, putting himself on top.

-

I wake up to the sound of soft grumbling, the sleepy murmur of the man lying beside me. When I move an inch to turn, his arm that’s draped around my waist pulls me closer. Bucky’s still asleep and I feel happily snuggled in his arms. I peer at the clock and it’s still early, we still have a little time… I think. Bucky wiggles his head on my shoulder, hugging me tighter, I’m a little spoon. This time, I won’t be leaving the house in his shirt without my pants on and frantic. I lift my finger wanting to run it along the bridge of his nose, and before I touch him, his hand catches my hand and he kisses it, his eyes still closed.

“Good morning.” He greets me, his head turning to face me.

“Good morning.” I echo and he kisses the back of my hand.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“You too.” I say, blushing. His voice is raspy and deep from just having woken up and I’m very much enjoying the sound.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“I don’t know. What’re you craving?”

“You know what I’m craving for.” Bucky pulls me by the arm trailing kisses all the way to my shoulder, to my neck then my jaw. I tilt my head just a bit to meet his lips and he positions his body sideways.

“Y/N! Breakfast is ready.” We hear Wanda knock on my door. Bucky sighs, giving me one more peck before he lets me go.

“I guess food’s okay too.” He adds, making me laugh. I shuffle through my drawers and pull a sweatshirt, quickly putting it on. Bucky picks his button up shirt from the floor and before he puts it on, I throw him his white shirt.

“Wear that,” I smirk, “technically, that is yours. I had it washed.” Bucky’s smile is impeccable, he puts it on and then his jeans.

When we finally get out of my room, the twins are almost done preparing the table. Pietro looks up, and is a little surprised to see Bucky behind me.

“JB! I didn’t know you stayed the night. Thanks for picking us up yesterday!” He says, running to the cabinet to grab another plate. JB? Wanda gives me a mischievous grin when I get to the table. I elbow her, and she chuckles.

“No problem, man. Do you need help?” Bucky replies, following me like a lost puppy in our small apartment.

“Nah, we got it. Go ahead, take a seat.” Pietro’s accent is evident, Wanda's on the other hand is a little faint, almost nonexistent, her time in the city and her job teaching has seemed to be the cause. Although hearing her talk to her brother now, seems to bring the spice in her voice back even just a little. I point the chair beside me and we both sit down. I hear chains shuffling in the distance, I wonder what that is. Wanda comes in with a heavenly set, and we all compliment her on it. It smells heavenly, Pietro should come visit more often if she’ll cook this much. We start eating, Pietro updating us on his latest triathlon. I don’t get why he still gets nervous, he always finishes first. His trainer is probably the one that needs training. When the conversation splits onto the twins updating each other after not seeing each other for so long, laughing at inside jokes that me and Bucky are clearly unaware of, we create our own bubble.

“This is really good.”

“Yeah, Wanda’s a really good cook.”

“But you’re a better dish.” Bucky murmurs before drinking his coffee. I roll my eyes, my cheeks ache from smiling so much.

“By the way, why were you still here when I got home?” I ask him, mouth full chewing on my waffle

“You didn’t check your phone last night, didn’t you?”

I shrug in response and before Bucky could even answer, I hear barking in the distance. Pogo runs and jumps. Bucky picks him up and sits him on his lap. So that’s why I heard chains shuffling.

“Nat dropped him yesterday, and since we’re the god parents, I thought I’d stay until the twins or you got back.”

“Oh, Buck.” I put my fork down and kiss him, Pogo barking when he gets squeezed between us. I take him from Bucky’s arm and I put him back on the floor. “Come on little fella, let’s get you breakfast.” I stand and at the word ‘food’ he follows me to his bowl, as I search through the kitchen for his food. When I finally find it, I hear Pietro engage in another conversation with Bucky. I try to move fast, remembering to ask them about last night.

“Hey, I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you guys up last night.” I fretted slipping back to my seat, grabbing Bucky’s hand and intertwining my fingers with him, placing it on my lap.

“It’s totally fine, we’re here aren’t we?” Pietro laughs, “And you didn’t tell me you were back on the dating scene! You could’ve at least told me.” Wanda nudges Pietro and eyes me an apology. Bucky notices and I see confusion show on his face, I squeeze his hand.

“Yeah! I’m sorry about that,” Poor Pietro, Wanda’s pressing her lips together. “It was really sudden,” I smile. “Bucky’s really great.” I say looking at him. Pietro just nods. Pietro has always been a close friend of mine, especially when I started hanging out with Wanda. He became one of my closest friends all the way through college ‘til he dropped out to run professionally, and has now apparently been doing all sorts. I haven’t really been talking to him that much, been a little off to give him some much needed space as Wanda put it. Never really understood why, he was probably getting more focused on his sport.

“So, how did you two meet?” He continues, Wanda sighs and offers Bucky more coffee to which he politely declines. How do I tell Pietro how we met? Hmmm.

“We met at work,” Bucky answers and this time, he squeezes my hand. Why do I feel like I have to do a little explaining later?

“You work for that Winnie too? Wow, you must really be tough for-“ That Winnie? Wanda cuts Pietro off by a swig of coffee slightly staining his pants. “Shoot.”

“I’m sorry!” Wanda apologizes. Holy shit, Pietro’s going to say something bad about Winnie, which is all I ever talk… complain about when work is the topic.

“It’s fine, I don’t like these sweats anyway.” Pietro huffs and before he could continue, Bucky answers again.

“Yeah, my mom’s really tough to work for, but I don’t work for the View. I met Y/N in the elevator.” The elevator is a nice way to skip things. Pietro mouths an “o” and I can see him catalog through excuses in his brain.

“Oh, yeah. Y/N keeps telling us about how much she loves working for the View.” I laugh at Pietro’s attempt at turning the situation around, and Bucky smiles at this.

“Forgive my brother for his conversational skills.” Wanda joked. “He’s fast on a track but slow with people.” Pietro stretches his lower lip and shrugs. Bucky laughs along, I rise my brows at him, trying to read him and he just gives me a wink.

Breakfast ends and Bucky and I have volunteered to clear the table. He looks so domestic, insisting that he wash the dishes and I dry them, I can’t help but smile. But I still wonder how I’ll apologize for Pietro’s attempt at conversation and Wanda’s nudging, which I know he’ll figure are two completely separate issues.

-

“No one ever calls me JB.” I hear Bucky start which immediately sends me cackling.

“Yeah, I- I was in the car with your mom when Wanda called me. I had to improvise.” Bucky furrows his brows, amused.

“Does JB have a backstory?”

“Why yes, he does.”

“Oh, really?” he nods, “care to share?”

“Actually, he’s a- he’s a stripper…” I say, and Bucky tilts his head back, eyes wide.

“A stripper… interesting. How good of a stripper is this JB?”

“A verrry good one. Top notch.” I wink.

“I’m guessing he’s pretty in demand then.”

“Yes, but he’s in an exclusive contract, non-breach.” I reply, swaying my hips to his.

“Y/N! Do you have the blue blazer?” Wanda interrupts, I roll my eyes making Bucky chuckle.

“Yeah, it’s in the closet.”

“Where?”

“Next to the black pin striped one!”

“Got it!” Wanda shouts and just as I thought her intrusion has stopped, she shouts louder. “Oh my gosh, Y/N!” What now?

“Were you looking with your mouth or with your eyes?” I say as I stomp to my room only to find Wanda gawking at her phone, jaw dropped. “What? What is it?”

Wanda extends her arm, her phone facing me, and my jaw hangs. “No freaking way.”

“What is it?” I hear Bucky who’s followed me and is standing at the door.

“Supermodel Thor Odinson Already Has a Date and Here are Three Things We Know About Her!” The title of the article says with a photo of me sitting on my chair with the flowers in my hand and Thor standing 3 feet close, my smile is annoying, don’t they know I was being sarcastic? Couldn’t they have chosen a different time to snap a photo? Any second after this would’ve shown my distaste for him. And they have three things they want the readers to know about me! Three things. What in the world could these be? My eyebrows are cocked so high, they might as well leave my face.

“I didn’t know you were still friends with your ex, Y/N?” I smack my face with my hand at Pietro’s remark. Wanda shakes her head at him. “Oh… you’re not?”

“Y/N?” Bucky sneaks in.

-

I feel like I’m in middle school, the first time I’ve ever had a boy in my room and both of us sitting on the edge of the bed. Wanda has pushed Pietro out of the room and probably told him everything he needs to know about Bucky and me. I still haven’t gotten over the pick-up situation at the airport, what else could’ve Pietro spilled? The tabloids aren’t making things easier. What three things could they possibly know about me? Poor Bucky looks so confused, I don’t know how to start telling him anything.

“Talk about you worrying about Dolores, I'm the one here uninformed about your roommate's brother's childhood crush on you and your supermodel ex-boyfriend.” Bucky sighs.

“Wait, my roommate’s brother’s childhood crush? You mean Pietro?” I suddenly huff in the middle of the gloomy mood.

“First thing I heard from Pietro’s mouth at the airport was how much he wanted to see you and I saw the shift in his mood when Wanda introduced me and told him who I was.” I blink at him. “Breakfast didn’t seem too subtle either.”

“Pietro’s just like that, I mean, we haven’t seen each other in years. He’s always been like that, doesn’t mean he likes me.”

“Believe me, he does.”

“Pietro’s like a brother to me. He knows that, he’s probably just being protective.”

“I’m a guy, Y/N. I know when someone’s being brotherly and when they’re not.”

“Well, that’s what I see him as.” I retort, and he nods slowly. I inch closer and grab his hand. “And on the real issue, since when are we listening to tabloids?” Bucky doesn’t say anything. “Hello?”

“You dated a supermodel?” So, this is how Bucky felt when I was asking him about Dolores.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve dated models in the past, Bucky.”

“In the past, I don’t have my exes still talking to me, giving me flowers and asking me to a red carpet.”

“Who said I was still talking to him? He approached me and I didn’t accept the flowers, did you see me come home with flowers?”

“Hmmm.”

“He wasn’t a supermodel when we dated.” Bucky finally loosens up and rubs his thumb on the back of my hand. “He was different back then, or at least pretending. He just used my connections to get himself a career. I’m not going to the ball with him, I don’t think I can even go with anyone considering I’m a part of the committee.” I lightly chuckle. Bucky still looks serious and I’m starting to get a little defensive.

“I wanted to tell you about last night, but I was so tired and I didn’t know you were going to be here. Seeing you made me forget about it, so it’s technically your fault.” Bucky wrinkled his nose at me, “cheesy?” I ask and he nods at me making me laugh. “But I really did forget.”

“I really did!” He pulls me close and I rest my head on his shoulder.

“Now I’m here and you remember, you can tell me.” I can’t see Bucky’s face, but I hate Thor so much for what he attempted last night, and now this. It’s such a mess.

“I didn’t want to talk to him… but he seemed close with your mom and she thought I needed to start dating…”

“Maybe you should quit. You can work in my building, I’ll give you your own office.” I roll my eyes and lightly smack him.

“And work for another Barnes? No thanks.” Who knows how Bucky is in the office? He might be just like his mom… I hope not.

“Hey what’s wrong about working—”

“Do you want to hear the rest of my sentence or not?”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes. This spoiled man.

“He asked me to come with him to the ball and when I refused, he begged or should I say grabbed my arm and repeated himself-“

“I knew I should’ve went there. I could’ve brought the pug with me, I don’t care.” He cuts me off again.

“Dolores came and made Thor leave me alone. I’m fine, okay?” Bucky looks slightly confused when he hears who my savior is. “It wasn’t that bad, that’s just how he is. He’s a very persistent guy.”

“Stop being so nice, Y/N. That’s not how anyone should be.”

“Okay. Well, I’m here aren’t I?”

“If I see that guy I’m going to-“

“To smile and leave him alone.” I pinch his arm, jolting Bucky a bit.

“Punch him.”

“Hug him and whisper something threatening. No punching please.” The least I want is another tabloid with my name on it centered between Bucky and Thor, then I’ll really have shit to deal with.

“You’re impossible.” He continues, putting his hand under my chin and kissing my forehead.

“And now that that’s cleared up…”

“No, it’s not.” He mutters, lips still stuck above my brows.

“Yes, it is.” I look up and I see him smiling.

“Nope.” He shakes his head.

“What is it?”

“I’d like to see the three things they know about you.”

“Can I read it first then tell you?” tabloids are monsters, who knows what secret they’ve dug up about me?

“Nope, we’ll read it together.” He pulls his phone out. I reach for it and he stretches it away from me, his arms are so long. He’s got my head under his chin and I’m struggling to reach for it.

“Bucky!” I break free and plead. What if they used my high school photos?

“Stop moving, I’m typing on the search bar.” I put my other arm behind his back and am kneeling on the bed, desperate.

“Bucky!” I say as he continues scrolling, laughter escaping his lips.

“Found it.”

-

Here are the three things they know about me, on this link, and Bucky’s thumb is about to hit it. When he does, the title in think broad font smacks me in the face. What could this petty news website know about me?

“Gossipchick, that sounds legitimate.” I roll my eyes.

“Shhh,” Bucky says, scooting closer.

“You’re really onto this, huh?”

“Shhh.”

Supermodel Thor Odinson Already Has a Date and Here are Three Things We Know About Her!

Looks like dreamboat Thor Odinson, the new face of Hugo Boss is already booked for this year’s fashion ball. He was seen at the Fashion Institute’s annual benefit giving flowers to a beauty and we don’t blame him. The mysterious woman was seated in the best table in the room, right next to big time fashion editor, Winifred Barnes. We won’t keep you any longer, scroll down to read all the things we know about her so far!

“So far?!” I grimace. Bucky doesn’t answer, he seems more curious than I am.

1. Her name is Y/N Y/L/N and she’s the total it girl! We found out why she’s sitting next to the fashion mogul, she’s her assistant. The job all girls would kill for. She’s been travelling with Winifred Barnes to runways and meeting all the celebrities you see on the cover of the top magazine. Here are some of the photos we picked up from our archives from the Milan fashion week, with her sitting next to her boss, wearing a sexy silk ensemble. And guess who walked a lot of runways that week? Thor Odinson! How did we not catch this? 

I purse my lips. Okay, aside from them exposing my name, number 1 doesn’t seem to be so bad… Although they did leave a lot about my job being Winnie’s assistant. Little did they know. And what is with the correlation of me watching the runway with Thor walking? Its’ my job to be with Winnie at all events, what the hell do I care about him walking some platform?

“You’re really enjoying this, huh?” I look at Bucky who’s looking very invested in this article.

2. She’s a total fashionista and here are some of her best looks you need to see!

The second one is just a bunch of photos of me taken standing with Winnie and some that were taken when Winnie takes her solo shots on the red carpet, leaving me in a corner. I didn’t know they had a couple of photos of me. I look so darn awkward, always looking on to the distance, the distance being Winnie and being prepared to attend to her needs like a genie with unlimited wishes. Bucky’s clicking on each one, and I’m having a hard time being serious. Is he biting his nail?

“Okay, now for number three.” I say trying to grab his phone so we can finally move on and find out what Gossipchick needed people to know so badly about me. Bucky pulls away and wraps his arm on my shoulder lowering my head. “What are you doing? Give me the phone!”

“I’m still scrolling through your photos, you look so good.” This guy just makes me feel every opposite thing I want to feel right now.

“I want to see number three!”

“I’m not done looking at the photos yet!”

“I’m right here! You can look at me all day! Let me see number three!”

“Why haven’t I gotten back to New York sooner?” I pinch his stomach again, he needs to stop giving me butterflies in my stomach.

“Because you’re an idiot.” I respond struggling to reach for the phone. He plants a kiss on top of my head. “Bucky!”

“Okay fine, I’m done. Now for number three.” Here we go, number three. My pulse is racing, it couldn’t be that bad, the first two were harmless.

3. She’s a foodie! Her Instagram is filled with all things yummy and here are some of the photos she took that made us hella hungry.

Phew, number three is pretty stupid. It has embedded photos from my Instagram with the quirky captions me and Wanda come up with every time we post her latest creation. Sometimes, we like pretending like we’re food critics over the dumbest things, I guess that’s pretty much our humor. One of the photos is me half covering our faces with a pizza slice with the caption, “cheesin’ together”. Bucky is scrolling through the rest of the article that’s not anymore related to me but about the ball.

“Are you happy now?”

“Gossipchick is not so gossipchick-y.” Bucky answers and it makes me laugh. “I did like the photos though.”

“I know you did.” I smirk. “Now that that’s officially done… what are your plans for the day? I need to start getting ready for work.” I ask Bucky, smiling like a psychopath, I thought the article would be horrific.

“I have a conference meeting in,” he looks at my clock, “an hour. After that I have some lame paper work but I can get out early. Do you want to get dinner later?”

“That would be lovely. Indoors though.” I lift my index finger. Bucky nods and holds my hand, his lips slowly nearing.

“Y/N!” I hear Wanda shout across the hall.

“WHAT IS IT NOW WANDA?”

“Why is there paparazzi outside our building?” What did she just say? Did I hear that right?

“What do you mean?” I say getting up and peeping through the small opening of my curtain, holy crap. A dozen people are downstairs, with cameras and boom mics. Nick our landlord is gonna kill me when he sees this and finds out this is because of me. This day just keeps better and better, and I haven’t even gotten to work yet. “Don’t people have better things to do? Couldn’t they go to someone else’s house? Someone who’s famous?”

“Thor just tweeted the pap photo and some heart emojis.” Wanda’s now resting on the frame of my door. Ugh Odinson!

“How did they know where I live?!”

“Uhm, Doll… I think it’s the location on the Instagram photos.” He says skimming through the article again.

“Y/N I need to get to class in twenty.” Wanda wailed.

“And we need to get them out of here! Bucky’s here! They’re going to see him!” Give me a break! I can’t let Winnie find out about this. Bucky’s shaking his left leg trying to think of something. Why can’t I have one night with him without any trouble in the morning?!

“The teens from the fifth floor came by our door twice looking like mice ready for some cheese, I saw them through the peephole. Gosh those kids look scary.”

“I think I have a solution.” Pietro says running to the door of my room.

PART 12

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Not A Monster Part 3

Love All The Marvel Ships Challenge

Day Twenty-One ~ Making Up

Explicit: 18+

After leaving Steve’s apartment she took the elevator down to the labs.  If there was anyone in this Tower who knew what it was like to feel unable to control their inner darkness it was Bruce.  Maybe Bucky wouldn’t listen to her, maybe he couldn’t believe her words, but he might listen to the one person whose monster was more dangerous than his.

“Hey Short Stack, feeling better?”

Tony came towards her, wrench in one hand, grease covered cloth slung over one shoulder.  His eyes regarded her fondly, just a hint of concern peeking through.

“I’m fine, I came to talk to Bruce, is he around?”

Tony nodded.  “He’s down in lab three, running some experiments.  You can wait in here for him.”

Darcy frowned at the casual way he said it.  It was too relaxed, too…  coaxing.  Why would he not want her to go down to the other lab?

“It’s fine, I just have to ask him something real quick.”

Tony stepped in front of her and shook his head.

“You need to wait here for him.  He’s using x-ray equipment down there, you don’t want to expose yourself to that right now.”

“What?”

Tony sighed and led her over to the beat-up coach he kept in the lab and sat her down, shoving a bowl of blueberries into her hands.

“Eat, you’re still looking a little peaky.  You’ve been making mad dashes for the toilets for weeks now kid, you can’t look at some of Bruce’s lunch choices without going green and you’ve fallen asleep at your desk nearly every day for the hour before lunch.  You also used the internal order service that Jarvis organises, he flags anything that could compromise the health and safety of personnel in the labs.”

A wave of embarrassed understanding swept over her.  he knew, about the pregnancy test, about the possibility of her being….  Yeah.

“Oh….”  She bit her lip before popping a blueberry in her mouth. “I haven’t even taken a test yet….”

Tony gave her an incredulous look, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.

“Are you kidding me?  You’ve had it for nearly two weeks.”

“I know.  But everything just went weird and strange and Steve and Bucky weren’t talking and then there was the running for my life and …. What am I meant to do?  I think he’s going to leave me.  He let things Steve said to him…  things that are big fat dirty lies….  He thinks he’s going to hurt me.  I think he might actually leave me for my own good. Have you ever heard anything so stupid?  If I had wanted a noble, self-sacrificing, sanctimonious idiot I would have picked Steve not Bucky.”

Tony sat stunned at her sudden verbal break down and the tears that had flooded out, and patted her back awkwardly.

Oh god she thought, as Tony passed her a cloth. She had just blurted it all out, to Tony of all people, she was a mess, a hormonal, hysterical mess!

“Ahh, Jarvis, help me out here.  Override privacy protocol six please.”

Darcy sniffed into the cloth and scowled at him.

“I knew it.  You are such a Big Brother.”

“Yeah, Orwell’s got nothing on me.  But seriously, I wouldn’t do this unless I had to.  You falling apart like this, it’s not natural.  So, lets both find out exactly what happened, yeah?”

Jarvis brought up the footage from the night of Janes wedding and let it play.  Bruce entered the lab just as the argument started, watching with a sort of stunned detachment until it was finished.

“Nice parting shot. Bet that burned.”  Tony commented lightly when it was finished.  “So, Bruce baby, what do you think?”

Bruce frowned, pulling off his glasses and rubbed them absently on the edge of his lab coat.

“Well…  I think some of what Steve said, while technically true was said out of anger and jealously.  Has something happened between you and Barnes?”

“She thinks he’s going to leave her for her own good.”

Bruce made an ahh and shook his head.                  

“Well, that’s not good.  I know there’s been no actually studies that 100 percent supported the theory, but stress really isn’t good for you in your condition, especially after being on the run for five days and the no doubt limited meals you had.  You’re looking awfully pale.  Have you been down to medical yet for a check-up, you really should?”

Darcy threw up her hands.

“Jesus Christ, does everyone know?”

“It was a secret?”  He asked stupidly, popping his glasses back on.

“She hasn’t taken the test yet.”  Tony piped up, heading over to wash his hands.  “I’ll take her down to medical now and you go talk to that idiot boyfriend of hers.  And I take it we’re not telling him yet about the bat in the cave?”

“Bat in the cave?  Really, that’s what you’re going with?”

Tony shrugged.  “It has vague superhero connotations, so I went.”

“No, I don’t want to tell him yet.  Not…  I don’t want that to factor into his decision.  He should stay because it’s the right thing to do, because he loves me more than he fears hurting me or losing me, not because he’s obligated to.”

“Alright, I’ll go talk to him.”

“Thank you, Bruce.”

He nodded and left the lab, Darcy still wiping at her eyes.

“Okay let’s go Double D, before I have to start calling you Double G.”

Darcy elbows him in the side for the comment but smiles.  It was nice to have her friends so concerned.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

True to his word Tony took her down to medical and then left at her insistence.  The Doc was good, didn’t ask too many questions and she put off the idea of letting them do an ultra sound, there was no immediate need, she was healthy enough, if a bit tired.  The Doc had insisted on doing the pregnancy test, but Darcy refused to let the doc tell her anything.  She couldn’t deal with the concrete knowledge just yet.  The Doc humoured her and made her wait while she ran some blood tests.

When she finally left, it was with a mostly clean bill of health, an appointment to return in a week and a prescription of iron tablets for the anaemia cause by her probable sprog.

She had just stepped into the elevator when Natasha slipped in the doors.  Darcy nearly jumped in fright, damn the woman was stealthy, where the hell had she come from?

“What are you doing down here, is the baby alright?”

Darcy repressed the urge to scream.  Was everyone in the Tower aware of her predicament?

“Ixnay on the yaba!”

Nat wrinkled her nose in confusion

“I’m not ready yet.”  She relents.

“Okay, taboo on that for now...  but you’re alright, right?”

The red head stares her down, daring her to lie.  Darcy rolled her eyes, there was no way she was going to make it through nine months of overly concerned superhero’s if this was an indication of how everyone was going to react to the news.

“I’m fine.  Honest.  Just tired and in need of a few extra calories and plenty of water and these," she shook the iron tablets. "Doc said I was slightly anaemic, nothing to worry about, a little rest and I’ll be right as rain.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes then nodded, seemingly satisfied that Darcy was telling the truth.

“I’ll walk you back to your apartment anyway.  We should see about getting you a tracker and I’ll have your security team informed of your medical condition, discreetly.”

Darcy throws her hands up and gives in.  There was no point in arguing and she allows Nat to walk to the door.

She returns to an empty apartment, strips her clothes off and pulls on one of Bucky’s old t-shirts.  She’ll think about all the crap tomorrow, she’s too tired to care right now.  She climbs into the bed and pulls Bucky’s pillow towards her, cuddling into it and breathes in his scent.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bruce eventually finds Bucky up on the roof.  The man is leaning on the barrier, looking down at the city below.  James Barnes might be older, but in years lived, dealing with the kind of fear of yourself that he has, he’s ahead of the other man by at least a decade.  He’s been where he is now.  He made a mistake, let his need to protect Betty drive him away from her.  He regrets that, thinks sometimes that they could have had something real, he never gave it the chance.  If Barnes walked away from Darcy now it would be a greater tragedy.  No one could have missed the two of them falling in love.  It had been plain for anyone to see.  It hadn’t been something he would have predicated, the tiny bubbly Darcy Lewis, colourful and loud with the dark broody and murderously dangerous Winter Soldier following her around like a baby duckling, but it had happened.

“Darcy send you to talk to me?”

Bruce snorted.

“Well I didn’t come up here for the view.”  He paused for a moment before making his way over to stand beside him.  “Darcy told us what happened with Steve.”  He decided to leave out the part where Tony had over-rode security protocols and accessed the actual footage.

Bucky sighed, still looking out at the city.  The irony of the situation he found himself in had him smiling bitterly.

“You know, this is the first time I had a problem and couldn’t go talk to Steve about it.”

“I’m sorry.  To be honest I’m not that great at listening to people’s problems, usually I wouldn’t go near this sort of thing with a ten-foot barge pole.  Here’s the thing though, there’s a friend of mine, down stairs, getting her heart broken and I want to help her.  She didn’t tell me to talk you round or convince you of anything, just to talk to you.  And it worries me, because that woman down there doesn’t like other people fighting her battles for her.  Yet somehow, this time, she doesn’t feel she can do it.  Could you tell me why that is?”

Bucky knows exactly why.  Darcy’s afraid to push him into making a promise. She thinks that because of what he feels about her that she has too much influence on his agency.  It had freaked her out back in the beginning, the way he would cave to her demands, even when he didn’t like doing something that made him uncomfortable.  She felt she was taking advantage once she understood that he would force himself to do things with her he didn’t want to if it made her happy.  He’d got better since then, at learning how to say no again, to voice his discomfort.   Even now, with the Doc in front of him he felt that rush of love for her well up.  She was still determined to look out for him even as she waited for an axe to fall.  He tells as much to Banner, as shortly as possible.

They stay in silence for a while before Bucky speaks again.

“I’m scared that everything Steve said was true.  But it’s more than that…  I worry I’m going to wake up one morning and find I’ve hurt her, that the Soldier’s slipped his chains and taken her from me.  I don’t know how to fix that, how to control it. I don’t want to leave her, but she won’t promise to go if I slip up.  I can’t stand the thought that I could harm her.  It twists me up inside.  I can’t lose her like that.”

Bruce nods, it made sense, the lack of agency, the lack of control, the fear of the programming re asserting itself.

“Life isn’t a series of events that can be scheduled into place, you can’t predict what happens next.  You can’t let the fear of what could happen, dictate what can happen.”

“Even if it means I could hurt her….  kill her, all because there’s a part of me I can’t control?”

“No one of is in control of anything, not really.  It’s all just a pleasant lie we tell ourselves, so we sleep better.  You don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow.  There could be an alien invasion, there could be terrorist attacks, natural disasters….  The list is endless.  You think you can protect those you love by keeping distance? You can’t.”

“But she’d be safe, from me.  If I snapped…  killed her…  She should get to live a long life, a happy one.  What if he hurts her…?  kills her?”

“What if he doesn’t?  She could walk out into the street and be killed by a bus, run off the road by drunk driver, shot in a corner store buying a pint of milk.  And you’re forgetting, she spends between eight and fourteen hours in these labs alongside us every day.  We use dangerous chemicals and machines.  Jane could make one tiny slip up and Darcy would be reduced to her molecular pattern and turn to dust.  Hell, Hulk could kill her by accident if I triggered here in the building.”

“It’s not the same, you have some control over it...”

“You know, I really don’t.  Hulk isn’t something I can plan for.   Just like the Winter Soldier isn’t something you can plan for.  That darkness inside?  The Soldier?  He’s not going to go away, he’s part of you.  You can‘t escape him anymore than I can escape Hulk.”

“What if Steve’s right what if I’m fooling myself.  What if I’m just using her?  What if I’m just as selfish as he said.?”

“Jesus he really did a number on you didn’t he.  I’ve seen you Barnes, you’re crazy in love with her.  Are you selfish for wanting to be happy?  I don’t think so, if you are, then so is everyone else.   Look, even a blind man could tell you love her, you’re both passionate intense people who have fallen hard for each other.  There’s nothing wrong with that.  For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a danger to her and I don’t think you’re being selfish.  You step back now, and they win.  They take one more thing away from you.  My advice?  Don’t let them.  This crisis of faith you’re having right now, it’s because part of you it still afraid to be happy.  Don’t let Steve’s jealousy ruin your relationship with Darcy.  Step back and really think about it.  If it had never happened, where would you be right now?”

“I’d be in bed with my girl.”

“And I’d be in bed with mine. Instead we’re both out here freezing out asses off in the middle of the night.  There are no guarantees in life Barnes, some things we gotta take on faith and that girl of yours, she’s got enough for the both of you.  Get your ass back down there and fix this or the next person knocking on your door will be Stark and none of us want that.”

“Thanks Doc.”

He waited till Bruce left the roof before leaving himself.  He had someone he had to talk to.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He found Steve locking up his apartment, a duffle bag over one shoulder when he made it down to his floor.

“Bucky.”

“Where you going Punk?”

Steve shrugged and set the bag down. “I’m going to stay upstate for a while.  Get my head out of my ass.”

“Darcy been by then.”

“Like a whirlwind.”

“Yeah, she’s a ball buster. You make it out intact?”

Steve snorted. “She set me straight, cut me down real good.  Wasn‘t nothing I didn’t have coming.  I was an asshole to you.  You didn’t deserve it.  I was wrong and I’m sorry for that.  I never… I didn’t ... fuck.  Look, I can’t explain it, but I am sorry for what I said.  I was being a selfish jealous jerk.  You didn’t deserve the shit I unloaded on you.  I know you would never hurt her, neither part of you.  Don’t fuck up the best thing you’ve ever had because I couldn’t keep my shit together after I had too much to drink.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t and I’m not going to.  I’m sorry you felt like I got things you didn’t.  I never meant to make you feel that way when we were kids.”

“You didn’t, it wasn’t your fault.  We were both young and you always looked out for me.  I guess I didn’t realise how much I had wanted to be like you back then.  Everything seemed to come easy.  You had your health, your Ma and Pa and your sisters, every dame in Brooklyn ready to walk out with you if you so much as sneezed at them.  Hell, it’s why I stuck around so long to save your ass, no one could say no to you.”

Bucky laughed at that.

“You’re full of shit Rogers.”

“Learned it from the best.”  He replied with a half-smile.

“Keep outta trouble up there.”

“Go put a ring on that girl of your Barnes and let me know when the wedding is.”

“You still gonna be my best man?”

“Well I’m not gonna be your best girl.”

“Punk.”

“Jerk.”

The seemed to move at the same time.  Both them going in for the hug, something they had done countless times.

“You’re my best friend Bucky.  I hope you can forgive me, eventually.”  Steve bit out as he held him.

“I think one bust up in a century can’t be grounds for ending it, do you?  I forgive you, don’t worry about it.  We’ll get past it, I just need a little time.”  He told him, stepping back and handing him up the duffle.  “Don’t be stranger.”

“Not that easy to get rid of.  Will you tell Darcy I’m sorry?”

Bucky nods and lets his friend leave, the air clearer between them.  It’s time to go home.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She hears him come and pulls herself out of bed, it’s nearly three in the morning.  She feels rested, she’d been sleeping for almost six hours.  She stands at the bedroom door and watches him.  He’s leaning over the breakfast bar, a glass of water in front of him.  He knows she’s there, his shoulders tense and silent pause before he speaks twists her insides into knots.

“I don’t deserve you...”

He feels like a fraud.  He had never been a good guy.  Not the way others were.  He’d been young and selfish once.  And after, when they took him and changed him, he’d become a monster.  The blood on his hands was real, whether he had wanted it or not, it existed.  She was everything right in a world gone wrong.  Innocent in ways he’d forgotten.  He craved her presence, her laughter, her joy in life.

The words rang in her ears like a death knell.  ‘I don’t deserve you’… Is that what he really thought?  That people got what they deserved?  If they did, if the world worked that way, they wouldn’t be having this conversation now.  She just had to make him see it.

“I’m not some gift or reward.  I’m a person.  The world didn’t give me to you.  I chose you.”

He had to listen to her.  Right now, the possibility of him leaving was directly in front of her and she became as selfish as she knew she was.  She was going to fight for him, it hurt too much to give up without making herself heard first.

“Even after everything I’ve done?  Why?  You deserve better than me.”

Darcy shook her head.  God he was stubborn and blind, and this self-hatred was a problem.  Probably not one that would ever completely resolve itself.  Not that it mattered in the grand scheme of things.   Love meant standing by someone, even when they didn’t want you to, even when they hated who they were.  It was giving strength and comfort when your person needed it most.

“I don’t think people deserve things.  It’s not like life rewards us for hard work and good deeds.  If people were given what they deserve, the evil in the world would be gone, leaving good people untouched by darkness.  And maybe it’s not about what you deserve.   Maybe you’re right and it’s about what I deserve.  What do you think I deserve?”

There was a half a room separating them, she moved closer, keeping her eyes fixed on his face.

“You deserve the world, you deserve everything.”

Why did that sound like an apology?  No if he does this, if he leaves, she’s not sure she wants an apology, because that means she has to forgive him and she can’t, not for this.  Not for leaving her.  The next words she speaks hold a hint of the turmoil and anger that is growing within her with each step towards him.

“For a smart guy you can be kinda dumb.  You are my world, you are my everything.  You want to give me the world, give me everything?  It’s so simple…  all I need and want…  it’s just you, by my side, always.”

She stops just a few steps away from him, her legs feeling weak and shaky.  Oh god, don’t pass out now, not now.

“I could hurt you.  I could kill you.”

It was the stark and ugly truth.  One they both knew.  One they had both ignored for all of the time they had been together.

“I know.”

There was nothing in her tone but hard acceptance.  She understood exactly what could happen.  It didn’t change anything for her, he could see that.

“The things Steve said…”

She stops him with sharp movement, her hand flaring in anger, and opens her mouth to vehemently refute anything and everything Steve might have thought or said or implied.

“No one tells me how I live my life, no one tells me who I love, especially not some vindictive prehistoric Neanderthal that thinks I owe him because I was nice to him once and definitely not the universe, and I'm not gonna let someone else's idea of right and wrong stop me from loving you or being with you or building a future with you because you are my life.”

Bucky grabbed her hands placatingly.  She could feel the burn of tears filling her eyes as she panicked.  What if she couldn’t make him listen?

“Hey, hey, it’s okay…  I know Doll, I know…  don’t cry.  I was going to say that the things Steve said…  they messed with my head because they were already there.  He didn’t say things I didn’t already wonder myself.”

“None of it’s true, it’s all damn dirty lies…”  she told him fiercely.  He wanted to kiss her for that, for her need to defend him, even against himself.  Instead he looked steadily into her eyes and placed their joined hands over his heart before he continued, voice soft but sure.

“And maybe I don’t deserve you, but I don’t care, because you chose me, you believed in me, when no one else did.  I’m staying, not because I think you’ll be safe with me, I know you’re not, but because I’m just selfish enough to want to keep the best thing that’s ever happened to me from ever leaving.  I don’t want to give up on us because I fear the unknowable.  I don’t want this, us, to end.”

What was he saying?  Was he saying what she thought he was?  Her heart began pounding in her chest from the anticipation.

“I want to stay.  I want to grow old with you and fight with you and argue about who’s turn it is to do the dishes.  I want you fussing when I get hurt and telling me off when I’m being stupid.  I want screaming arguments and I want us to fuck each other happy again after.  I want you, I want this, I want us.  I’m not going anywhere, I’m staying because I can’t live the rest of my life wondering what we could have had if I had just taken the chance to let you love me.”

Darcy could have cried at his words, he wasn’t leaving her.  The massive weight of dread which had hovered over her or two days had finally lifted.

“I don’t ever want to feel like that again, you can’t do that to me again, okay?”

I promise, I’m so sorry for putting you through this Darce, I never wanted to hurt you like this. I love you so damn much.”

“I love you too, I don’t have the words to tell you how much….”

He silenced her with a soft kiss, and she stood on tip toes and wound her arms around his neck, melting into it, seeking his tongue with hers.  Then his mouth opened under hers and he lifted her up, her legs locking around his hips.  Bucky moaned into her mouth and then painted a line of kisses along her jaw and down her neck.

“Bucky…  bedroom, now.  You promised…”

“Promised what sugar?”  he smiled into her neck and scraped his teeth against her skin.  She jerked and tightened her legs, hissing out a half laugh half gasp.

“That you’d fuck me happy.”

“I’m not just going to fuck you happy, Baby-doll, I’m gonna make you fly, and then I’m gonna fly with you.”

The playful lust driven tone turned darker and a little possessive.   Darcy shivered and held back the whimper his words provoked as she felt the curl of need low in her belly.

“Please Bucky…”

“Tell me what you want baby…”

“I want you.”

He lay her on the bed gently once their clothes were gone, leaning over her, kissing and touching, marking a path down her chest, pausing to roll her nipple between his lips and making her curse and arch into his mouth as he flicked his tongue around the taut peak.

His hand drifted up over her rib cage and between the valley of her breasts, smoothing along her collar bone before circling over the top of her breast and taking her in his hand, lifting the weight of it and squeezing gently.

God it felt so good, his hot mouth sucking and licking his way down her body.  If there was a way, she could keep them here in this moment forever, she’d do it, it felt so good to have him touching her, loving her.  He kissed down her stomach and then gently parted her legs, drawing circles into the skin of her inner thigh.  He placed a hand under her hips and lifted her up, slipping a pillow under her for elevation.  She looked at him in question.

“Trust me sweetheart?”

She nodded, of course she trusted him, her breathing picked up in expectation, the look in his eyes as he gazed up at her, sinful and full of promise.  He lowered himself between her legs, kissing her skin between muttered words of praise.  The first swipe of tongue had her hips lifting from the bed, he placed a wide hand across her belly, holding her down gently, the pillow keeping her angled upward.

He drew it out, teasing flicks and nips and soothing strokes with the flat of his tongue, leaving her breathless and moaning, urging him on. Her hand came down to tangle in his hair, gripping his dark locks tight, showing him where she wanted him.  He hummed into her skin, she could feel as his lips curled up in a smile before his tongue darted out to lap against her entrance before delving into her core.  The sensation had her stilling, barley breathing as he fucked her slowly with long purposeful strokes.

“Bucky…... Bucky…. oh god…. I’m so close… “

She almost cried when he stopped but he pushed into her with two fingers, his lips closing around her swollen clit, thrusting and sucking in tandem.  The orgasm rushed over her fast as her pussy clamped around him, he kept going, fucking her with his fingers, drawing it out then curling up and pressing at the spongy tissue of her g-spot, triggering another, more intense wave to sweep through her, her voice calling his name wantonly as her back arched and her toes curled, breath ragged as stars burst behind closed lids.  He didn’t stop, lapping at her through the pleasure until she lay boneless and sated, his name still whispering from her lips.

When she opened her eyes and looked down, she found him, head pillowed on her thigh, watching her with an indulgent smile, his mouth glistening from her release.  He crawled up her body, pausing place kisses on her stomach and breasts before reaching her lips and sinking into a heady, filthy kiss.  She could taste herself on his tongue as she nibbled on his bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth, making him groan, bringing his weight down against her body, the hard planes of his chest and belly flush with hers.  She could never have her fill of him, always wanting more, needing more.  The hard evidence of his desire for her lay heavy between her legs.  Just the feel of him there, hot and thick, had her lifting her hips in invitation, the slide of him between her fold making her whimper breathlessly.  The anticipation building again as she reached for him, guiding him into her slickness, coating his shaft with her desire before urging him to claim her.

Sinking into her felt like coming home, her tight heat pulling him in, god he loved her.  Every breath that stuttered, every enticing whimper she made encouraging him as he held back from pounding into her.  Fuck he wanted to, wanted to drive into her fast and hard, take pleasure in her body as she surrendered to him so prettily.  He rolled his hips, as he worked her open for him, her body accepting him inch by silken soaken inch. He loved how wet she was for him, how she had chanted his name so brokenly while he ate her out, tasting her sweetness as it gushed out of her.  He wanted to wreck her, ruin her, make her fly so high from the pleasure he could give her that she would come undone beneath his hands and his cock.

He filled her deliciously with his hard length, muttering curses into her skin as he bottomed out.  Darcy felt the burn as he stretched her to her limit, his cock reaching places she had never felt before.

He nipped and kissed down her throat as he flicked her nipple with one finger over and over, sending thrills of pleasure straight to her centre.  She whimpered and called him name, begging for him to move but he stayed still as she tensed and arched beneath him, trying to rub her clit against the base of his cock.  She had never felt so full, it ached in the best way.  He continued his game, teasing her, encouraging her rock into him, leaving only enough room for her to gain enough pleasure from the press of their bodies, keeping her on the edge of orgasm, playing her like an instrument.

“Please, move, I…  need you… to move…”

“Not yet pretty girl just trust me, I promise I’m going to make you feel so good.  I need you to relax, okay?  Just let everything go, let me take care of you.”  The whispered words in her hair thrilled her, the promise he made building the desire in her centre.

He ran a hand from the back of her thigh to cup the back her knee and lifted her leg high on his hip, the angel allowed him to slide deeper within her and she cried out at the sudden invasion.  The head of his cock bumping against her cervix with each little squirm she managed, and she panted trying to force him even deeper.  It hurt a little, a stinging, but it was far outweighed by the overwhelming wave of new pleasure that was building deep in her belly.  Surging up, pulling every muscle tight from the back of her thighs, over her hips, which began the jerk desperately, and across her abdomen.  She couldn’t fucking breath from the feeling of exquisite torture snaking through her, coiling tightly even as her walls began to pulse and clench around his shaft.  This was new, different, she had never had an orgasm like it, it was slow and strong, not the sudden drop from a cliff, it was like being in freefall.  Wave after wave of mind-numbing bliss, sending her higher each time she took him in a little more, before something inside her seemed to beak and she wailed his name, chanting it over and over, sobbing out her release as he watched her hungrily, telling her how good she felt coming around him, watching her come apart for him.  

She kept coming, her pussy continuing to clamp down on his cock as she jerked against him, reduced to incoherent babbling of how good she felt, how she loved his cock and wanted him to fuck her and never stop. Even with the last washes of orgasm through her, he was still seated deeply inside her, hard and thick and hot.   She lay panting beneath him, the only thing she was able to do was breath and then he hitched her other leg up and….  How could it be possible that he was now even deeper, she wanted to cry from the feeling of fullness, she couldn’t tell where she ended, and he began.

“Good girl, such a good girl coming so pretty from me Doll.”

“Please…. Please…love you Bucky, please…”  she didn’t know what she was pleading for, how could it still feel so good, so right?  It was happening again, her belly beginning to tighten as the feeling rushed through her.  His voice whispering in her ear was the only thing holding her together.

“I’ve got you sweetheart, just relax, let it happen, that’s it, nice and easy, just like that” He ran his hands lightly over her skin, soft, warm strokes up her sides as the aftershocks of pleasure slowly subsided.  She let him talk her into un-bunching all the muscles at her core, her eyes rolling back as she felt him push further inside her.  He wasn’t done with her yet, her heart drummed in her chest and there wasn’t enough air in the room to fill her lungs.

“Bucky… oh god... please…. please”

He leaned down and captured her lips with his in a wet filthy kiss and then he finally started to move, shallow thrusts, his cock hitting that place inside her with every rock of his hips.  Oh fuck, oh god, she was going to come apart again.  She couldn’t have kept quiet if she wanted to.  He felt so good, his weight keeping her from floating away as she rode the waves of pure bliss that travelled from her belly out radiating like a sunburst from head to toe and it just kept going climbing higher. each time he filled her.  She clung to him, urging him to keep going to not stop, never stop.  He was taking her apart piece by piece, one hand steady on her hip, keeping her at the perfect angle.   The last tether broke and she came with a long keening wail.

The moment she tipped over the edge he slammed into her one last time, letting himself fly with her, his body jerking as he came with a rush of pure euphoria, both of them clinging to the other as their orgasms tore through them, aftershocks jolting up his spine as he cuddled her close in his arms.  He couldn’t more and didn’t want to, buried deep inside her comforting warmth, feeling the pull as she continued to flutter around him, shaking and shivering from the overwhelming high.

Darcy lay in his arms, breathing him in, every inch if her skin tingled intensely.  She’d never experienced anything like it before.   What the hell had just happened?  He was nuzzled into her neck, kissing his way up to her ear, telling her all the pretty things, she closed her eyes and cleaved into his warmth.  She felt like she might float away without him to hold her here, she clung to him, feeling of love and adoration for him bubbling up.

“I love you, I love you…  oh god that was intense...  Bucky... love you so much.”  Her voice shook from the strength of her feelings, beginning to devastate her.  She felt so defenceless, so exposed and vulnerable and so full of love for him.  She could feel the tears running down her face, it wasn’t crying exactly, but she couldn’t stop.

“Bucky……”

He leaned up on his arms, his body still holding her down, grounding her.

“I love you Baby…  I’m right here.  It’s alright, your fine.”

“I’m….  I feel so… I don’t know, I…  just hold me, please, don’t let go.”

“I’m not going anywhere Darce, I’m never gonna leave you.  I love you, l love you… I’ll say it a million, million times, I love you.”

She made a happy noise and rubbed her nose to his giving him a sweet kiss.  He was careful with her, running a hand through her hair, whispering words of love and praise to her.  She was an overstimulated mess after what he’d done to her.  When she calmed enough, he slipped out of her and reached to bring the covers over them both as she continued to hold onto him tightly, burying her face in his chest and pressing kisses into his skin as she drifted off to sleep, tiny shocks still moving through her ever so often.

Bucky held her close, she meant everything to him.  He would love her for the rest of his life and tomorrow, tomorrow he would do what he should have done after Jane’s wedding and give her the ring, ask her properly and show her that he had meant it.  He was never going to leave her, never.

NEXT

@randomlittleimp

@captain-rogers-beard

[thorman-barnes]

Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers one-shot

prompt: inspired by this post (the mobster!Bucky content on their blog is pure gold and I recommend -if you already don't- follow them! @bucky-plums-barnes )

summary: mobster!Bucky and mobster!Steve don't get along

what's included: jealous!Bucky, jealous!Steve, baby barnes

You woke up in your bedroom, the throw pillows were all over the ground and the spot beside you was empty. The spot that Steve usually occupied was empty and the suit he wore just last night was neatly hanging over the back of the small couch in your bedroom.

You smiled to yourself, knowing that he was still here, and sat up, the blanket falling off your upper body and falling onto your lap.

You stood up from the bed, pushing the heavy blankets off your body. The t-shirt you wore (which you kept even after you broke up with your son's father but you would never bring that up to your new mobster boyfriend) ended at your upper thighs, barely covering the small pajama shorts you slept in.

In a few minutes, you already washed your face and brushed your teeth. Your hair wad still messy but you left it that way anyway and stayed in your sleeping attire before stumbling your way into your son's room.

Upon entering the room, you found James, yours and Bucky's son, stuffing his toys into a small, blue backpack decorated with patches and buttons. His little hands shoved one last car toy, quickly closing the bag before it exploded with the amount of toys he stuffed in there.

"You ready, baby?"

He looked up at you, his big brown eyes wide and full of excitement of finally getting to spend a whole week with his father. He nor you have seen Bucky since then because he had been gone for the past three weeks out on a business deal, or at least, that is what he told you. You never exactly what Bucky or Steve did, you knew most of it was not legal, but they did not want you getting mixed up in there lifestyle.

He nodded eagerly and jumped a little in his spot before running up to you. His little arms wrapped around your thighs and he looked up at you. "Daddy said he's taking me to the zoo!"

You reflected his grin and pulled him up into your arms. "Is that so?"

He nodded again and his little arms wrapped around your neck as he spoke of all the things Bucky promised to do with him. Little Barnes was excited to see the lions at the zoo and go for ice cream "my favorite is chocolate, daddy's favorite is vanilla with chocolate fudge," and then he told you how Bucky promised to take him to that new toy store in the city.

You already knew your baby was going to come back with many toys and probably filled with sugar, as well as, stories to tell you that he did with his father.

"Promise to take pictures? Mommy wants to see you with all the cute animals," you smiled and kissed his cheek, his little giggles filling the room and you walked to the living room.

"Oh, that's fucking bullshit, Barnes," you and James heard Steve's almost shouting, annoyed voice boom almost throughout the apartment. His tone caused you to stop and listen. You prayed the neighbors could not here. The last time Bucky came over, you landlord complained to you about the shouting Bucky and Steve had.

James stared at you with wide eyes because of Steve's colorful choice of vocabulary. "Why is Stevie mad at daddy?" James whispered to you, his eyes full of concern and innocence. You sighed and shook your head, not knowing the reason this time but you knew there never had to be a reason for the two to argue.

As for James, he never understood why the two hated the other so much. It's what made Steve's and James' relationship so rocky. James wanted to be just like your ex and if Bucky did not like Steve, then James did not either. Bucky always got a kick out of how difficult James made Steve's day but Steve was determined to win the kid over and he was getting there much to Bucky's dismay.

"Don't you fucking start," Steve warned into the phone. You quietly set James onto the ground and he slowly crept behind you as you gently walked down the hallway and watched as Steve was fuming.

His bed hair was now slicked back because of the numerous times he ran his hands through it since answering your phone. He still had a smear of your lipstick on his neck from the night before and he had his rings on his fingers already. You were convinced mobsters never took those things off because you recall even Bucky never being seen without them.

"Now, you listen he- I don't care th- not my fucking problem," Steve growled.

James tugged at the hem of your shorts, confusion dancing onto his features. "I thought we can't say bad words, mommy," he stated in a hushed tone.

And he was not wrong. You had made both men swear they will not use any bad language, especially around your son. You and Bucky both agreed you did not want him picking up on the habit but apparently, that rule did not apply when the two were forced to interact. The two swore at each other like their was no tomorrow and the other always brought an ugly side out of the other.

"We can't," you established and squatted down to his height. You gently pushed his hair from his face and blocked out Steve's ranting against Bucky. "But Stevie and daddy think the rules don't apply to them, baby. We gotta set them straight, right?"

He grinned and nodded. You stood up straight and took his little hand in yours. You two walked with your heads held high without Steve noticing you both yet. His back was to you as he stared out the sliding door of your apartment, the lighting highlighting his perfect skin and muscle.

Steve was about to raise his voice again, when you took the phone away from him and threw a glare over your shoulder at him. He stood there dumbfounded but did not bother to snatch the phone and continue his argument. "Morning, b-" his voice had instantly gone soft upon laying his gaze on you.

You scoffed and took over the phone call. "Bucky, hi." You walked into the kitchen, feeling Steve's eyes on you the whole time and hearing James feet against the ground as he followed closely behind.

"Twenty minutes? No, that's great. Yeah, he's ready." James smiled up at you upon hearing his father was coming to pick him up.

-

"Please, be nice," you begged Steve as the doorbell rang behind you. Steve shrugged, looking down at you. His hands on your hips as your fingers ran along his naked chest.

Just seconds ago, you had forced him to leave any sort of weapons in the bedroom, hoping Bucky had the decency to leave his elsewhere other than on his body, as well. You knew the two would not start a bloodbath in your home, especially in front of you and baby Barnes, but you could never be to careful.

With the two not getting along, having a baby with Bucky and now dating his rival, only brought more tension and hatred for the other.

"Still don't know why he has to come here," Steve muttered and buried his nose in the crook of your neck but still had a clear view as he watched your two year old son open the door the moment the bell rang.

"Would you prefer I go to his place?" When he did not answer, you giggled and kissed his cheek and walked away from him to greet the other mobster. Steve remained where he was, few feet behind you with his hands stuffed into his sweatpant's pocket and he stood tall.

"Good morning, doll face," Bucky grinned when he saw you, fighting the urge to not look at your bare legs but wanting to do so only to piss Steve off. "Looking beautiful as always."

"Watch yourself," Steve growled and both James and you looked between the two before James walked closer to Bucky and held his arms out so he can be carried.

Bucky ignored Steve, like he always did and only focused his attention on his son and you. "You sure you don't want to join us, doll? Could be like old times." He held a big, innocent smile, kmowing damn well Steve was going to bitch about him later. But he was hopeful, hoping you would join despite knowing you better and would not leave Steve just like that.

Behind you, Steve groaned but you were tempted to join. In the past, when you were together with Bucky and he had days off, he would spend the days with you and your son. He was different man outside of his choice of lifestyle. His whole attention would be solely on his family. As a family, he treated you both to the aquarium, the movies, or a theme park. As a couple, dinner reservations, vacation, romantic getaways. As his girl, he spoiled you often.

And he always silenced his phone when he was out with his family but lately, since you two broke things off, he sends you pictures constantly. They varied from just James to him and James - it made you miss those moments.

"I'm okay, Buck, you can go now," you replied and leaned against the door. You were ready to go back to bed and spend the whole day under the covers with Steve and do nothing.

"Well," he smirked. "If you change your mind, you know where to find us." He grabbed James' bags from the ground with his free hand and headed for the door.

But then, he stopped in his tracks and turned around just when you were waving at James. Bucky turned back around and walked to towarda you, he bent down so James can say goodbye and promise to call before going to bed. Bucky took this as his chance to kiss your cheek and his eyes trailed behind you to meet Steve's annoyed expression before pulling away.

As he began to walk backwards a few steps, he smirked when he saw the pink tint on your cheeks and wide big, brown eyes that looked exactly like James' and the angered expression on Steve's face as he fought the urge to push the man out of your home.

-

I haven't written in a long time, I'm sorry if this sucks, but the post got me thinking, I don't know, feedback is well-appreciated and uh, if you guys want to let me know whst you really thought it whether negative or positive thoughts, so would be helpful

Tag List:

@m-a-t-91 @my-marvelside-bl0g @iamalphanow @hoewkeye

[jamesbvck]

lost & found | b. barnes | part five

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU, Bartender!Bucky) Summary: Being lost was something foreign to you. Beginning a new life was an uphill battle. Being found was a surprise, especially unexpectedly by a man his own questionable past. Word Count: 3k Warnings: fluff, mention of mental abuse, mention of drunk driving. A/N: Welcome to part five! Feedback? :)

MASTERLIST | TAG FORM

Mornings were always rough. You had never truly considered yourself a morning person, but you didn’t necessarily hate them either. You’d much rather stay curled up in bed with the blanket tucked under your chin and head nestled into the pillow. But alas, work called and it was time to get up for the day. Money was to be made and customers were to be served.

There was a bounce in your step as you hopped into the shower. The warm water dripped down your skin, as you hummed an old song. Corinne had taken notice of the change in your demeanour over the last week. She knew it was because of Bucky and whatever bond you had formed with him. While she was cautious, she had to admit it was nice to see you so happy. You deserved to be happy.

You arrived to work just as Wanda did, and the two of you exchanged a few words as you walked inside. You placed your belongings out the back, grabbed your waist apron, and headed out to do your routine tasks until customers trickled in. Idly you swept, humming again. Hayley, one of the new part-time girls that was recently hired, straightened up the stools and tables, giving them a wipe down. You liked her. She was funny and kind, a new friend.

“It’s really unfair.”

You glanced over at her, raising a brow. “What’s unfair?”

Hayley nonchantanty motioned to Bucky across the way. He was guiding an electrician taking a look at a few of the lighting fixtures that hadn’t been working properly. His long hair was tied up into a bun, and his strong arms were folded over his chest as he explained the situation to the older man. His navy blue three-quarter length shirt fit him just slightly too tightly.

“Someone call Calvin Klein and get that man an underwear campaign, stat!” Hayley sighed dreamily.

Your eyes stayed glued to Bucky for another moment. You felt captured under a spell. It wasn’t necessarily bad to think your boss was good looking. After all, he was your friend. You had hung out outside of work as friends, so it was cool. You texted, and maybe one time (two times) it was until three in the morning. Friends did that all the time. Totally cool.

“He’s single, right?”

“Uh,” you shrugged. “I don’t know.”

You fibbed.

Hayley began to ponder aloud. Your mind autoset into your own thoughts, curious to see if she was going to make a move, and worried that she actually would. Something twanged in the pit of your stomach thinking about it, and you knew it was not pleasant. Your grip around the broom grew tighter until you internally rationalized the situation. By the time you refocused, Hayley was with Bucky, the electrician gone to get some tools out of his truck.

Oh.

Again, you rationalized. Taking the broom and dustpan, you returned them to the storage closet. You were unable to keep a frown from forming and felt stupid for it. Truthfully, you didn’t even know what you wanted from Bucky. Friendship? Companionship? Guidance? The sense of hope that not all men were god awful? Maybe all of it wrapped together with a pretty bow? You shook your head, deciding you were being completely ridiculous. Nothing was owed to you, nor did you owe anyone anything. At least he was in your life.

Before leaving, you grabbed new fibre cloths from the shelving and a spray bottle of cleaning solution. You pulled the door shut, turning around to see Bucky looking at you with amused eyes. Your knees nearly buckled.

“Hi…?” you said, blinking at him.

“I was wondering how long you were going to stand in there for,” he spoke. “You okay?”

You nodded, regaining yourself to smile at him. “Little tired, but I’m fine.”

Bucky nodded too. “Good, that’s good. That’s great!”

You tilted your head, trying to not laugh at his apparent eagerness. He seemed chipper and in a bright mood. It was quite adorable to see. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go do some employee stuff.”

“I guess I’ll go do some boss stuff,” he replied. You slipped around him, brushing arms. You looked over your shoulder and caught Bucky’s eyes. Something in your chest swelled and you bit back a grin. These were murky waters and you knew not to swim in them, but damn, they were intriguing.

Clint sat at the bar for the majority of your shift. He was filled with stories, and spoke about his kids and his beautiful wife. You loved listening, but at the same time, your gaze kept travelling over to Bucky whenever he madea brief appearance. You couldn’t help it and it was dead obvious to Clint. He took a lengthy sip of his beer, setting the bottle down on the round coaster.

“You and Barnes, yeah, I could see it,” he commented. You scowled. “You keep making eyes at him.”

“I don’t make eyes, Clint.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Look, I really don’t give a shit. Like him, don’t like him. But life’s too short to hide behind what ifs and maybes. Don’t look now, but Barnes is staring at you, too. Trust me, he can be pretty stupid, so if you’re gonna move, move.”

You hadn’t expected this from Clint. He was encouraging and at the same time giving you life advice. Perhaps he was right, life was too short to be scared of something. You sighed, picking up his bottle to see there was barely any liquid left.

“Do you want another one?”

Clint checked the time. “Probably shouldn’t, gotta go pick up the kids from school.” He dug into his back pocket and retrieved some cash. “You coming to Stark’s party?”

“What party?” You took the money, exchanging it for his change. You didn’t even know Tony Stark. You only heard the guys talk about him every now and then, and your sister worked for his billion dollar company.

“Stark’s Annual Fourth of July Bash…” his voice trailed and his face contoured into something mischievous. “Why don’t you ask Barnes about it.”

“Clint.”

“What ifs and maybes,” he mused, waving as he left the bar.

It was noted that Clint and Sam were definitely the ones that gave people a hard time out of spite. You muttered to yourself, swiping the bottle and putting it in an empty beer case. You occupied yourself for the next hour until your shift ended.

Bucky was in his office, chair leaned back and his thumb scrolling through his phone. Quietly you approached the door way, bag over your shoulder as you leaned against the framing. He didn’t notice you to start, and that was perfectly fine. You liked watching his brows scrunch together and his eyes squint at his phone.

“You’re going to need glasses if you keep squinting.”

He looked over, lowering his phone to the desk. “Steve tells me that, too.”

“Well, he’s right.”

Bucky chuckled. “I’m glad you stopped in before you left, wanted to ask if you would like to get some food.”

Never in your life had you said no to food. It must have been a given, since you nodded rapidly and a wide grin spread across his face. He picked up his phone, tucked it into his pocket, and tidied up his desk before flicking off the light and locking the door. He caught Wanda before leaving and she was more than fine with locking up when it was closing time. Bucky led the way out.

“How do you feel about Chinese food?”

“I’m good with that,” you replied, following him down the street.

There was a place around the corner from Bucky’s studio apartment. It was small, and a little sketchy looking, but Bucky swore it was the best you were going to get in Brooklyn. You let him order whatever, you weren’t picky. You helped him carry the two full brown paper bags back to his place. He kicked off his boots and set the bag onto his coffee table.

“What do you want to drink?” Bucky asked.

“Water’s fine.”

This was the second time you were in his home. You examined it more. There was a long three seater couch and a matching armchair to the right of it. He had a TV console with a flat screen perched on top, and a few art pieces hung on the wall. His large bed sat back against a brick wall off to the west side near the wall of windows that let the light pour in. There were notebooks scattered around, some vinyls and a recorded player off to the side. It was a rather clean home.

You set down the bag and plopped yourself onto the floor, beginning to take things out. Bucky returned with plates and two glasses of water. “Are we going to eat on the floor?”

“Why not?” you smiled.

He got himself to the ground, letting you choose what you wanted first. “What’s this Stark Party?”

Bucky reached for the beef and broccoli, scooping some onto his plate. “Your sister didn’t tell you about it?”

“No, Clint mentioned it this afternoon but didn’t elaborate too much.”

“Tony has this party every year on the fourth. It’s kind of a big deal, I guess. I get dragged to it by Steve. It’s on his yacht.”

A yacht? You weren’t even sure why you were surprised. Of course a billionaire had a yacht and would invite people aboard to get drunk on. The idea seemed fascinating, though. Spending a holiday on a big boat, drinks, a view of the entire city and to end the night with fireworks. It was almost romantic, in a sense.

“Are you gonna go?” he asked.

“I don’t even know him,” you murmured. “That’d be weird if I just showed up.”

Bucky shook his head. “You know people he knows. You can be Corinne’s plus one.”

“I could be your plus one.”

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could process anything. It was really meant to be a joke. Realistically, you could have been Steve’s plus one, or even Sam’s. However, Bucky didn’t seem too fazed by it. He was spooning rice onto his plate and grabbing the mini soy sauce packets.

“You could,” he agreed a moment later. His eyes peeked through a few loose strands of hair that had gotten away from his messy bun. Thankfully, your words weren’t a total disaster.

I would, you thought.

Bucky had put on some music to fill in the gaps of silence while you ate. You weren’t too sure what it was, but it was soothing and had semblance to jazz. It felt like you were far away, lost in a small European town with cobblestones and beautiful buildings. You ate, briefly chatting but mainly listening to the record. Bucky packed away the leftovers, taking the plates to to the sink. You leaned back onto your hands, looking around. Your eyes landed on a framed picture of him, Steve, and Sam. It looked to be an older photo, Bucky had shorter hair and all of their faces were younger. It brought a smile to your lips. Bucky and Sam were laughing and Steve was trying not to crack a smile, but failing miserably.

“What’s this from?” You took the frame and showed it to Bucky.

“First Christmas while we were shipped out,” he replied. “Can’t remember the full context, but it had to have been making fun of old man Steven.”

You laughed quietly, turning the picture back to you. Bucky was slightly leaned over in the picture, smiling widely, and you swore you could hear his laughter. There were dog tags swinging from around his neck and his plain white t-shirt was ruffled.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Bucky dried his hands on a kitchen cloth, moving back to the living room.

Carefully you placed the frame back from where you got it, settling down on the rug again. “I’ve never seen you wear a t-shirt, or anything with shorter sleeves. Do you have something against them?” You attempted to play it lightly. Maybe he just didn’t like t-shirts. People went through clothing phases and that was fine. Maybe it wasn’t on trend for men’s clothing, you didn’t know.

Bucky shifted, stretching his legs out as he leaned against the couch. He was quiet, you waited.

“Well, I can tell you I do own t-shirts. I don’t discriminate,” the corner of his lip turned up for a half second. “A few years back I wasn’t great, you know, during that bad time I told you about. I made the really stupid decision of drinking and getting on my bike. Steve told me not to do it, I was too stubborn and angry at something, did it anyway. Didn’t even make it down the road before I got out of control, skidded along the pavement.”

Bucky held out his left arm and rolled up the sleeve as far as it could go. Along his biceps was scarring that went to his elbow. You shuffled yourself closer to get a clearer look. You couldn’t imagine how awful that must have been for him. You raised your hand and gently glided the tips of your fingers over some of the scar tissue. To you it didn’t look so bad, but to Bucky it was something that he had to deal with physically every day.

“I was in the hospital for a few days, had my license taken away for a bit. Probably was a blessing in disguise, I started to smarten up.” Bucky looked to you. “Maybe I’m ashamed. I don’t want strangers to look at me funny when I walk down the street.”

“Scars of our past redefine who we are, but we get to choose who we want to become,” you murmured, dropping your hand to your lap. “Trust me, I know all about that.”

You could see in Bucky he was curious about your words. Your fingers coiled into your palms, squeezing, then releasing. “His name was Brock,” you started. “He was my boyfriend, but he was also my worst nightmare. I thought everything that went wrong was my fault, only because he told me it was. I thought the reasons why he would yell at me, taunt me, mentally damage me were my fault. And I believed I deserved it.”

Bucky was at a loss for words. You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, avoiding eye contact as you spoke about all the tragedies and the downfall of your three year relationship with a monster. “Getting out was hard. I packed my bag but I was too afraid to leave, I was too afraid of the abandonment. I was too afraid of losing what I called ‘my person’. I thought he was that. But he wasn’t. Luckily Corinne was coming back home for a visit and she ripped me out of there without any barriers. I owe her so much.”

His hand reached out, and using his thumb, he swiped away a stray tear from your cheek that had fallen. You hadn’t even noticed.

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Bucky said.

“I know,” you replied. “Restraining order is in full effect. But his words are still in my head. Some days are hard, some days are great. Today’s a good day.”

The jazz music had drifted off, the vinyl ending. Bucky subconsciously rubbed his blemished arm before slowly moving to his feet. He turned on the TV, handing you the remote to find something to watch on Netflix. He left to go change and you crawled your way up onto the couch, flicking through the title cards of the tv shows and movies. You put on a baking competition show, hoping Bucky wouldn’t mind too much.

He re-entered wearing grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt. It was true, he didn’t discriminate. It made you feel good, like maybe he trusted you enough to be himself, he didn’t need to hide his insecurity. He also didn’t seemed bothered by your tv selection; in fact, he was rather into it, making comments. The more episodes that rolled over into one another, the closer your body grew to Bucky’s. He was warm, a little squishy under all that toned muscle. Your eyes drooped, unwilling to stay awake to see who was making it to round three.

Upon awakening, the TV was turned off and there was a single light on. It was dark as your eyes adjusted. A blanket was draped over your body, a pillow under your head. You glanced around before reaching out to search for your phone. Time: 12:54AM. A silent yawn slipped from your mouth, and you sat up on the couch. Admittedly, you were slightly sad Bucky hadn’t been there with you. It didn’t take you long to see he was in his bed, turned onto his side with one arm hanging off the edge.

You had three options: the first, going home to your own bed (probably the best one not to worry Corinne), the second was laying back down on the comfy couch and drifting back off, and the third (and most appealing) was scooting in next to Bucky. Quickly, you opted for the third. Your feet padded against the floor to the open side of the bed, and you pulled back the blankets. For a split second, you hesitated, but your sleepy body ached for the comfort of a mattress instead. You settled yourself, leaving a gap between you and the sleeping man.

Bucky’s body shifted, rolling over to his other side. Clearly you weren’t as stealthy as you believed you were. One of his eyes popped open, looking at you in the dark.

“I can go,” you whispered.

Without warning, Bucky pulled you to himself, wrapping his arm securely around you. Immediately, you felt safe. Your entire body melted into his, and you tucked your head under his chin. His fingers rubbed a small section of your back, which lulled you right back into a deep slumber.

A perfect night’s rest.

permanent bucky list: @tjhammcnd @fossilbarnes​ @wintersparker @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @sweetwaterprincess @demongirl0913 @bitch-from-the-block @queenlydias @lilah-bard @dontpanc @ohkingsteve @kingsebstan @buckystan-plums@cauraphernelia @yourwonderbelle @beauty-who-doesnt-need-a-beast @bleedlikerubies @fallenaristocat @bubblybuckybarnes @solarbarnes @my-world97 @mystic-scripture @ragnarokbarnes @wintvrbarnes @stardustparker @kali-rambles @pao-prazz @thorins-queen-of-erebor @eventyyr @abbadontherisingqueen @lovinglokiforever @justasimpleassbitch TAG FORM

[notyoursterotypicalnerd]

The Rainbow after the Storm

Masterlist

Listen to the album “The Futurist” by Robert Downey Jr; it helped create this story.

Summary: After the events of Thanos, Bucky becomes overly clingy and needy and won’t leave your side no matter what everyone does/says to help him pull away from you. That is until you find out your pregnant, not only does that change Bucky but it also changes the whole team.

Word Count:3771

Author’s note: Follows on AFTER Infinity War part 2, some events are purely guessing and for this stories purpose. Also, may contain spoilers of previous and present Marvel movies.

Even though the lounge barely fit the two of you comfortably; you and Bucky managed to cuddle up watching TV.

“Buck, we’re heading out for drinks, want to join us?” Steve asked as he waited for Nat.

Bucky shook his head as you looked up at Steve; The two of you were thinking the same thing, Bucky had changed; he was clingy and needy towards you while also trying to push away from the team.

It was no surprise after majority of the population crumbled to dust; leaving you alone in the avengers toward with Friday as your only contact  to the outside world; She even blacked out the windows to prevent you from freaking out. No matter how many times Friday claimed to try and reach other members of the team, no one was answering.

“James, it’s okay. Just go” you said. Most of the team were on speaking terms now and with tonight’s drinks maybe everyone would finally kiss and make up.

Bucky tighten his grip around your body “No.” His eyes fixed on the TV.

“Have a drink for me, Rogers” you said to see as Nat came into view.

Nat looked over at Bucky “How you feeling, Buck?”

“Fine” He didn’t bother shifting his gaze as he answered.

Everyone was worried about Bucky; on the field a lot of friends had turned to ashes in front of them; in the streets many panicked as loved ones turned into ash. This had affected everyone more than they expected.

“How’s Mumma doing?” The words slipped out of Nat’s mouth.

Steve looked at Bucky; You looked at Nat, you hadn’t told Bucky yet. Thankfully Bucky didn’t react.

“I’m fine” choosing your words carefully.

“Right, we should go before Stark starts another war” Steve awkwardly joked.

“Cya” you said as you watched the two heroes walk towards the elevator.

You and Bucky laid in silence watching t.v. It was nice to have Bucky back in your arms but having him not leave your side was beginning to frustrate you.

“James?”

“Mmm…” He had a feeling you wanted to talk about the events of the past which he certainly didn’t want to talk about.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Nope” James quickly shut down your words; you pulled away from his grip, jumping to your feet.

“Nope!?” You looked at him, shocked “I’m pregnant, James and you just said Nope. Did you even hear me!? I’m pregnant!”

Bucky sat up and looked at you. He had defiantly heard you.

“Its your baby before you stupidly ask” you shouted at him.

Bucky ran his hand threw his black hair “I’m sorry, y/n” He rose to his feet as you stepped back from him

# # #

This was the first night that you had spent apart since everyone came back. You weren’t going to spend the night in the room you shared with Bucky, instead you were downstairs in Stark’s unfinished lab. You just needed time alone and doubted Bucky would bother you down there.

“What are you doing down here?” Bruce came down the stairs and spoke as he noticed you; he seemed pretty sober.

“Just taking a breather” you watched as he began to pick up some papers. Tony was trying to stretch out the lab and make it bigger for not only himself but for also Bruce and any others who wanted a place to work on their gizmos and gadgets. “How was the night?” you asked as Bruce wondered through the lab.

“Steve and Tony ended up arguing. Well, mostly tony. That was fun trying to keep the peace”

“Think Tony will be fine with Steve?”

Bruce shrugged as he pinned a few things up on the note board “Surprised his even fine with Bucky being under the same roof.”

You looked down at the table.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that” Bruce noticed your expression.

“It’s okay. I know what you meant.” You sighed “I told him I was pregnant”

“Who? Tony?”

“No, Bucky” you corrected Bruce.

“Oh right, you and Bucky” Bruce shifted through a few boxes “How he handle it?”

“Well I’m down here and Bucky’s probably freaking out. You do the math”

Bruce looked over at you “y/n, I’m sorry” He stepped over to you “Thanos broke all of us. We’re all not only trying to rebuild everything but also repatch ourselves” Bruce explained “Let me put it this way, If Tony and Steve didn’t try to kill each other and if Thanos didn’t snap his fingers than Bucky would probably be over the moon.” He sighed before continuing “You try to come back from that.”

-          -

You spent the reminder of the night downstairs in the lab talking to Bruce and helping him sort through his items that were still in boxes.

-          -

The two of you had lost track of time when you heard a grumble from your stomach.

“Guess that’s out cue to eat” Bruce smiled before the two of you headed upstairs to the kitchen.

Most of the team were already upstairs; Nat and Clint sitting close to each other, Tony laid back on the lounge with sunglasses on while Steve was making breakfast. Bruce headed towards Steve as the two of them began talking. You headed towards Tony and lifted up his sunglasses seeing a nice bruise covering his right eye “Heard you and Rogers got into it”

Tony looked up at you “He started it”

Steve pressed the blender button knowing how hungover Tony really was. You and Tony looked over at him. “See, his still childish” Tony pulled down his glasses as you tried not to laugh. Of course, the two males were childish; they were as bad as each other.

“Heard you told, Bucky” Tony tried to change topic.

“Friday told you, didn’t she?”

Tony nodded. He was the first person you had told when you found out you were pregnant, though it didn’t help that Friday knew everyone’s movements and when the A.I realised something wasn’t right, she told her boss.

The mood quickly shifted as everyone noticed Bucky’s failed attempt at sneaking into the room. His eyes caught yours “Can we talk, y/n?”

“yeah, okay”

You and Bucky walked out to the balcony, Bucky closed the door behind him as you looked out at the view. You never got over the specular view of the city from the Avengers Tower.

“I’m sorry about last night” He began “It’s just, everything” He sighed. Bucky didn’t move from the door as you turned to face him, noticing the team were watching the two of you. They quickly turned away but did sneak back glances every so often “When everything happened, I was gone. I didn’t know where I was. I thought I lost Steve, I thought I lost you” He looked up seeing your hands on your stomach “I was scared when I came back….” He trailed off “The minute we came home, home to you I didn’t want to be apart. I didn’t want to lose you and I didn’t want to imagine my life without you.”

You stepped closer to Bucky and placed one of your hands on his cheek “I’ll always be here” you placed your other hand on his chest, placing your hand over his heart.

“When you said you were pregnant. I just freaked. I felt like I was in kill mode but without all the killing. I never dreamt of having a family, hell I didn’t even think I’m capable of being a dad let alone love” Bucky explained; He was scared to touch you.

“James, listen to me. We’ll figure this out together. You and I. Who knows if we’ll make perfect parents, the least we can do is try” You reassured him; moving your hand from his cheek to his metal arm. Shuri had worked her touch to rewire Bucky’s thoughts and his arm; his gaze shifted to your touch “You weren’t the only scared. I was scared that I lost you, too. When you came home. I was thankful, I was finally able to have you back. Sure, everyone else came back but you own my heart” you looked up at Bucky’s face.

This is what you needed. You both needed to clear the air especially since neither of you had done any talking since everyone came back. Bucky wrapped his arms around you; you placed your head on his chest and wrapped your arms around his neck “So, we’re going to be parents,huh?”

“We are” you replied.

The two of you enjoyed the moment in silence together.

-          -

When the two of you finally went back inside; everyone quickly shifted in their seats. You sat down across from Tony; he was still trying to hide his bruise as he looked up at you “Everything’s fine?”

You nodded as you watched Bucky bring some food over.

# #

Weeks had passed, and your bump was now noticeable. The older Avengers fussed over you while the new kids on the block were excited and eager to teach the baby when its born.

You sat down on the lounge as Peter Parker began to ramble on about how he’d teach his spider moves to the baby.

“Slow down, kid” Bucky piped up.

“Sorry, Sir” Peter apologised.

“it’s okay, Peter. Your just excited that you won’t be the baby of the family anymore” you reminded him.

“His still the baby” Tony joked as he carried the popcorn bowl, placing it on the table.

You cuddle close to Bucky as Tony sat down next you and Peter tried to stretch out on the small chair; Bucky placed his hand on your stomach as you looked up at him “Feel that?” you asked him.

“Yeah” the baby had kicked when Bucky touched.

“Feel what?” Tony panicked as Peter turned to you.

“The baby kicked” Bucky felt another kick “His going to be a fighter.”

“He?” you asked. Bucky shrugged; neither of you wanted to find out the gender of the baby as long as it’s healthy than who cares?

“Can I feel?” Tony asked.

You nodded, he leaned over as you moved his hand close to Bucky’s. Watching the two males feel the baby.

“Can I feel, too?” Peter piped up. The baby was distracting him from the movie.

“Sure” you said as Bucky moved his hand away; He stood up and left the room. You tried not to let it get to you as you placed Peter’s hand next to Tony’s. The baby must have known something was wrong and stopped kicking.

“Sorry, give me a moment” The two males quickly moved their hands as you stood up. You went off to find Bucky who was hiding in the bedroom that the two of you shared; He was sitting down on the bed staring at his feet.

“What’s wrong?” you asked as you sat down next to him on the bed.

“Nothing” He lied.

“James don’t lie. I know you. You don’t just leave when nothing is wrong”

Bucky looked up at you “The minute you started showing, it’s like the baby became everyone’s and not just ours”

“Their just excited. The rainbow at the end of the storm” you reminded him. It seemed like something you had been saying a lot lately especially when Tony thought it was time to start talking about a room for the baby. Having to remind Bucky on an almost minute by minute basis that yes, you and he were the parents of the baby but everyone part of the team had found hope.

# #

You sat up in bed; in a panic. Bucky wasn’t laying next to you as you carefully climbed out of bed and shuffle out of the room “James!” you called out.

“His not here” Friday’s voice filled the hallway.

You grabbed a hold of the door handle; trying to keep calm “Get him!” you screamed. Seconds had passed when you finally stood up and made your way downstairs via the elevator, Thankful that Tony had installed those because there was no way you’d be able to get down the stairs.

“I heard screaming, is everything okay?” Tony came running up from the lab seeing you gripping the lounge.

“The baby” you managed.

“The baby?” His eyes widened “Oh! THE BABY” Tony forgot what to do. Everyone knew that you had at least a few weeks left until your due date and having the baby want to arrive now had thrown everything that everyone planned out the window “Let’s get you down to the lab”

You stared up at Tony “I’m not giving birth in a lab!”

“Right, Sorry. BANNER!” Tony yelled out “Friday, tell Banner we need him and what’s the eta on Buchanan”

Bruce came running up to the lounge room noticing what was going on. The two males helped you lay back on the lounge.

“Bucky is on his way with Steve and Nat about five minutes” Friday’s voice filled the room.

“Can you hold for five?” Tony asked.

“Let me think, can I wait fi…. AHH!” You gripped the lounge’s edges tightly.

“We’ll take that as a no” Tony looked at Bruce “you’re a doctor”

“Not that type of Doctor, Strange is” Bruce tried to help you remain calm.

Tony and Bruce rushed off to find what they needed for a home birth with the of Friday; not only did the A.I instruct them on what they needed but she also gave updates on Bucky. Tony tried contacting Doctor Strange but failed.

Tony and Bruce where by your feet when Bucky, Steve and Nat rushed in. Bucky knelt down to one side of you while Steve was on the other side of you. Nat, Tony and Bruce were ready to catch the baby though Nat was a little more game enough to see more than she should.

“Y/N, you just need to push” Nat looked up at you.

You held onto Bucky’s and Steve’s hand; gripping tightly as you started to push.

Several pushes later; screams of a newborn filled the room. Bruce wrapped a towel around the baby before handing the baby over to Bucky. Bucky looked down at the child in his arms, smiling then looked up at you.

“You owe me for the lounge” Tony managed to ruin the happy moment with his joke of a comment.

“Shut up, Tony” you didn’t bother looking at him as Bucky placed the baby in your arms.

There is was; the first baby in the team. Bucky’s first baby, your first baby. The rainbow after the storm.

“What are you going to name him?” Steve asked.

You looked at Bucky; Neither of you discussed baby names but both silently agreed on one name “Steven James Buchanan, SJ for short” you said.

Bucky looked up at his best friend. Tony pretended to be offended “After all this effort and not even a name after”

“Sorry guys” you looked up at Tony and Bruce. They knew the deal, it was bound to happen after all Steve and Bucky were best friends.

# #

Time had flown by, SJ was now six months old and already had everyone wrapped around his little chubby fingers.

Tony had finally claimed that SJ’s room was finished but you knew Tony and nothing in his eyes were ever finish but he was sick of hearing you and Bucky complain about Tony’s various interruptions in the nursery. The room was connected to the room that you and Bucky shared together. The room was not only decked out with all the latest items for a six month old but also little gadgets that Tony believed were safe for the baby many which mysteriously ended up back in the lab due to you and Bucky believing a baby shouldn’t have it.

The room was painted with images of the team with countless every changing photos of the family. Nat walked into the room “Go enjoy your night, we’ll be fine” she said as you laid SJ down in his crib.

“It’s not you that I’m worry about” The two of you watched as Tony walked into the room holding a mini version of his iron many robotic suit “That better now be what I think it is”

“Okay, it’s not” Tony smirked.

“SJ should be getting stuff from Steve and Buck” Nat noted. Everyone loved spoiling the little chubby baby, but Tony had gone overboard with the whole let’s make SJ into a mini Iron Man.

Tony looked at Nat after placing the iron suit down on the rocking chair “He will be when I find something suitable from them”

You and Nat rolled eyes. Just by looking at the two around you; you knew this baby was going to be spoilt with the latest gizmos and gadgets.

“Are you ready, y/n?” Bucky leaned against the door before noticing the new suit Tony had brought in “Stark, we’ve talked about this. SJ isn’t following in your steps.”

Tony rolled his eyes “Save it, the girls said it already” he held back on what he really wanted to say but knew better than to miss the chance of watching a baby grow up. After he and pepper had spilt, Tony needed this as a distraction.

# #

It was your first night out as parents without SJ and it felt weird. The two of you walked hand in hand, though it was nice to just enjoy each other’s company after feeling apart for the past six months.

Neither of you had planned anywhere in particular to go; you both just wanted to have some freedom away from everyone.

Bucky slipped his free hand into his pocket; he seemed nervous, but you shrugged it off thinking Bucky was just being Bucky. After the world began to put their lives back together, Hero’s attempted to remain under the radar and having Bucky being out in public wasn’t something he was overly keen on especially when he felt like he was being watched at every turn for whatever movements he made.

“Can we sit?” Bucky asked.

“Sure” The two of you sat down on the park’s bench, it wasn’t overly late at night. Early enough for the streets to be filled with people but late enough for the park to be quiet. “Are you okay, James?”

Bucky nodded his head. You looked at him as the two of you sat in silence. This was beginning to feel awkward.

“Uh...y/n” Bucky tried to find his words as his hand in his pocket began to fidget “I love you, you know that, right?”

“I love you,James”

Bucky nodded slightly “And having SJ in our lives has made things interesting” you weren’t quite sure were Bucky was going with his words “I was thinking that maybe we should get a place of our own, away from everyone”

You raised your eyebrows “James? We’ve talked about this. I’d love to find our own little place but we both know it’s not going to be ours. We both know that everyone will crash out ours for the sake of SJ”

“Right” Bucky moved his gaze out to the crowd walking past the two of you. “Will you marry me?” Bucky blurted out.

“Excuse me?” you and Bucky looked at each other. Had you heard him, right?

Bucky got down on one knee, pulling out a small box from his pocket “Y/N, will you do me the honours by marrying me?” opening the box to show off a simple diamond ring.

You were speechless. Bucky certainly had changed; he was no longer the man who was afraid to leave your side now he was the man who learnt boundaries and having him kneel down in front of you; awkwardly proposing was defiantly something you never expected him to do.

“Yes” You were ecstatic as Bucky slipped the ring onto your finger; your lips pressed against his.

# #

Two years had passed when you and Bucky finally sorted everything out for the wedding. Not only had the three of you moved into a little home of your own but you were both minutes away from being called Husband and Wife.

You looked down at SJ who was playing with Captain America’s shield. Nat and Wanda were laughing at SJ who began saying “I’m ‘Aptian ‘Merica”

You looked out the window to the backyard seeing the rest of the team outside waiting to take their seats; seeing Bucky at the other end of the yard standing with the priest and Steve. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever imagine this happening; even after all these years you never quite imagined being in such a huge family like the Avengers. You remembered the day that Bucky had introduced you to everyone.

You were just a little ol’ nobody who worked on the corner shop and now here you were standing in a wedding dress.

“Uncle Steve” SJ interrupted your thoughts; you turned around to see Steve Rogers looking at you “Stunning” Steve said.

Wanda picked up SJ “We’ll meet you out there” she said as she carried out SJ with Nat by her side.

Steve reached out his hand to you; You didn’t have anybody in your life to celebrate this moment with and thought it was only fair to have the man walk you down the aisle was your soon to be husband’s best friend.

You and Steve waited at the backdoor before the music played. Everyone turned their attention to you; your eyes meet with Bucky’s. You and Steve walked down the aisle as you kept your eyes on Bucky.

“James” Steve said; as the two of you reached the end of the aisle. Neither of you could remember the last time Steve had called Bucky, James. Steve kissed your hand before placing your hand into Bucky’s hand. You looked at Steve and blushed before looking back at Bucky.

-          -

“You may now kiss the bride” The priest said.

Bucky lifted up your veil  seeing embarrassment fill your face; he pulled you in tight before pressing his lips against yours; your arms wrap around his neck.

“May I present to you, Mr and Mrs Buchanan” The priest said after the two of you had finished kissing.

The wedding guests cheered; SJ had broken free from Nat’s grip and ran up to the two of you; Bucky picked up SJ before you kissed the toddler’s cheek, Bucky balanced SJ in one arm while wrapped his other arm around your waist as the three of you walked down the aisle.

[andtheniwrotemarvel]

Salamander (Part 5)

Newt Era HP!Steve/Bucky/Peggy x Reader

Assumed female reader

Word Count: 1925

Yep definitely writing the rest of the movie

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Hand in hand, you and Newt ran through the basement doors, Tina right next to you. A group of aurors suddenly blocked your path, and only just in time did you duck behind cement pillars to hide from their attacks. Once again, Newt pulled his reptilian creature from his coat. It zoomed around the pillars wreaking havoc on the aurors until it was safe to proceed again.

"Leave his brains, come on! Come on!" Newt scolded the creature as it used its proboscis to probe one of the auror's ears. It took flight once again, blocking curses and taking on more aurors.

"What is that thing?" Tina asked.

"Swooping Evil," Newt provided.

"Well, I love it!" she exclaimed.

"So do I," you agreed. "It's gorgeous." The Swooping Evil crowed loudly in response.

You dashed around a corner, only to nearly run into Jacob and a blonde woman that you didn't recognize. She was holding Newt's case, and Jacob seemed fine with her, so you decided to trust her for the time being.

"Get in!" the new woman said, gesturing to the case. One by one, everyone descended into the miraculous case, the blonde closing the case after Jacob was the last in.

You all sat quietly together for a few moments, none of you talking in fear that someone outside of the case would hear you. Tina especially needed a moment to gather herself as, after all it's not every day that someone faces certain death and lives to tell the tale.

"Do you think that Queenie can get us out of here?" Newt asked Tina. You assumed that Queenie was the blonde.

"Of course she can," Jacob answered confidently.

"My sister has gotten herself out of worse scrapes than walking around with a strange suitcase," Tina agreed.

Relaxing for the first time since Tina had walked in on MACUSA, you inquired, "So this is that suitcase you always wanted to make?"

"Yes," Newt responded, enthralled. "And it just keeps getting bigger. I'll give you the full tour when we have the time."

"I'm excited to see all of your creatures, too," you said.

"I bet that they'll love you," he said, enamored. "Pickett already does."

"Pickett?"

"The bowtruckle on your shoulder there. He doesn't like many people, so I think you've got a pretty good chance with the rest of the creatures."

"How long have you two known each other?" Tina asked.

You thought back all of those years to when you had first met Newt. Neither of you knew very many people, as you were a muggle-born and he had grown up pretty isolated. You had sat next to each other in Transfiguration one day and had been inseparable until Leta stepped in.

"Since first year at Hogwarts," Newt answered. "We were best friends up until about fourth or fifth year, wouldn't you say, (Y/N)?"

"That sounds about right, yes," you agreed. "And even until we got kicked out of school together, we were still friends, even if we weren't as close."

"I would have pegged you two as a couple," Jacob said.

"A couple?" you chuckled. "No, the most romantic thing we ever did was ditching Transfiguration together on the day that we got kicked out. What made you think that?"

"The way you two act around each other reminds me a little bit of my grandparents, is all," Jacob shrugged. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"It's alright," Newt said. "We might well have been a couple if I hadn't ruined it."

"Oh, come on, now, don't take all the credit. You know that I don't blame you for anything," you stated.

"Just because you don't doesn't mean that I don't," Newt reminded you.

"Newton Scamander, not everything is your fault, alright? Take a step back and breathe."

"Your full name is Newton?" Jacob asked. "Newt just fits you so well that I didn't think it could be short for anything."

"Well, technically speaking, my full name is Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, but Newt has suited me rather well, yes," Newt answered.

Not much time passed before Queenie opened the top of the suitcase. "You're all safe to come out now. I've found us a nice spot that no one'll think to look," she said cheerfully.

Tina was the first one out, quickly followed by Jacob. You and Newt stood awkwardly next to each other for a second, waiting for the other to go up first. When neither of you moved, both of you took a step forward, nearly running into each other, then stepped back.

"If you two want a moment alone, you can have one," Queenie suggested. "You just come on up when you're ready."

"We'd like that very much, thank you," Newt accepted. Queenie let out a knowing giggle, then closed the case for you.

Newt wasted no time in apologizing to you. "I'm sorry if what I did down there made you feel uncomfortable in any way. I just thought that just in case escaping didn't work out, I would be able to die knowing that I had...well..." he met your eyes briefly before returning his gaze to the ground. "I really liked you back at Hogwarts, but I never said anything because I thought that you hated me because of Leta. I suppose that it's childish of me to hold onto a crush for so long and--" Newt was forced to stop as you placed your index finger on his lips.

"You don't need to apologize, okay? I've held onto a crush for a long time, too, so if it's childish, we can at least be childish together," you said. Newt didn't say anything, but you knew that he caught onto what you meant by the way his eyes widened. "If escaping hadn't worked out, I would have been able to die, too, knowing that you felt the same way about me that I did about you."

"Would you mind if...if I did it again?" he asked you, beginning to blush.

"I wouldn't mind at all."

The second kiss was even more perfect than the first, especially considering that there weren't two executioners pulling you away from each other or restraints on your arms. It lasted as long as it needed to, and even with all of the chaos around, you knew that this was happening exactly when it needed to.

"Do you think that we should go up?" Newt asked timidly after you broke apart.

"Probably. We need to find that last creature as soon as we can, plus that Obscurus shouldn't be left alone for much longer, either," you said.

"Let's gather our resources, then," he agreed.

You came out onto a rooftop overlooking all of New York. In all of the months that you had been in the city, you had never bothered to fine a decent view of it, a decision that you now questioned. You and Newt stepped onto a ledge, fingers intertwined, then Pickett chirped and hopped from you onto Newt's shoulder.

"I think he thinks you're a tree," you giggled.

"Why would you think that?"

"You're tall, thin, you've got branches and a big cluster of thin, soft leaves on top of your head. He practically lives on you, and bowtruckles live in trees."

"I suppose that's a fair argument," he acknowledged.

Tina stepped up onto the ledge next to you. Now it was time for business.

"What've we got?" you asked.

"Graves always insisted that the disturbances were caused by a beast," she stated. "We need to catch all your creatures so he can't keep using them as a scapegoat."

"That sounds like a good plan," you nodded. "Newt, how many do we have left?"

"There's only one still missing," he said. "Dougal, my Demiguise."

"Dougal?" Tina smirked.

"A Demiguise?" you asked incredulously. This was going to be much harder than you thought.

"Yes, a Demiguise. See, Tina, the slight problem is that...um, he's invisible," Newt sighed.

"For Merlin's sake," you muttered.

Tina smiled at the ridiculous prospect she was facing. "Invisible?"

"Yes--most of the time...he does...um..." he trailed off.

"How do you catch something that--" Tina began.

"With immense difficulty," Newt cut her off, a nervous smile beginning to show.

"Oh..." Tina mumbled.

"Merlin," you reiterated.

"Gnarlak!" she shouted suddenly.

"Pardon?" you asked.

"Excuse me?" Newt questioned, taken aback.

"Gnarlak--he was an informant of mine when I was an auror!" she explained excitedly. "He used to trade in magical creatures on the side--"

"He wouldn't happen to have an interest in paw prints, would he?" Newt queried.

"He's interested in anything he can sell."

"Where do we find him?" you asked.

"The Blind Pig. Have you been there?" Tina checked. "It's not the safest place in the city, but that's where you end up finding the best information."

"I've been there a couple of times," you said. "Now, please don't take this the wrong way, but I really need to check on my friend Peggy. I'm not trying to--"

"Do you think she'd want to come with us?" Newt asked before you could say what you weren't trying to do.

"Peggy? I'm going to have to warn you, she's not the same as when you last saw her. Everything you probably remember about her disappeared with Steve," you said. "She probably needs something like this, though. I'll meet you at The Blind Pig, alright?"

"Sounds like a plan," Tina nodded.

You apparated just outside of your apartment and knocked on the door. For precautions since the disappearances of your best friends, several protective charms had been placed around your apartment, including a few that prevented apparition into your home.

"Peggy?" you called into the apartment. No response. "Peggy, I need you to open the door for me. I forgot my keys again."

After a few minutes, she came and opened the door, offering you a melancholy smile. "I was wondering when you would come back. Was today as boring as usual?" she inquired. "I just started some tea, by the way."

"Today was actually much more exciting than I expected," you shrugged, shutting the apartment door behind you. "I got the opportunity to shout at Madam Picquery and the rest of MACUSA, including Percival Graves--"

"He's had it coming to him for a very long time."

"Right you are. Then, I got arrested--"

"What?"

"And sentenced to death--"

"(Y/N)!"

"But then I escaped. It all turned out fine."

"Why were you arrested and sentenced to death?" Peggy asked. "Are you a fugitive now?"

"Ah, there is one thing I forgot to mention. Newt Scamander decided to pop in."

"Why do I have the feeling that this is going to take much longer to explain than we have time for?" she sighed.

"Oh, don't worry, it won't take that much time." You gave her the short version of your tale, leaving out the budding romance between you and your old friend.

"I should be scolding you for not holding your tongue when you need to, but I'm actually very proud of you," Peggy commended you.

"Are you feeling up to joining us on our little adventure?" you asked cautiously.

She looked unsure, wanting to stay at your apartment safe and sound, but also wanting to do something that reminded her of the last few years when she had been actively involved in the war with you, Bucky, and Steve. "I suppose that it would be good for me," she agreed hesitantly. "Just like the good old days, right?"

"Exactly," you nodded. "Let's get ourselves ready to go out, shall we?"

Tags: @shamvictoria11 @cookies186 @sweeneytoddler

[avengers-fics]

Spider

pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

summary: you live across the hall from Captain America, but you never really talk to him. When you find a giant spider in the bathroom, that all changes. 

warnings: big spider

Friday had finally come to a close, and you were relieved to be able to take your shoes off by the front door of your apartment. The clock under the tv read that it was only 9:20 pm, so you decided to have a glass of wine before settling in bed. It didn’t take long for you to down the whole glass, especially since your day consisted of your boss making rude remarks and low-tipping customers. Your eyes began to droop, and you decided it was time to find your way under the sheets. But low and behold, the moment you were finally comfy your bladder decided it was party time. After a few curses, you got up from the little burrow you’d made in the bed. You flicked on the bathroom light, and squinted momentarily.

A giant black spot on the wall made you stop in your tracks. You grimaced as you recognized the spot to be a spider, and it seemed to be staring back at you with it’s many eyes. Putting a hand on your mouth, you attempted to prevent a scream from ringing out across the apartment complex.

Being an independant woman was something you were used to from living in the city for so long, but your nerves were shot as of late. There was no way you were getting close to that damn thing, not just because spiders are gross, but you didn’t know if it was venomous or how fast it would be. The idea of running to a neighbor seemed childish, however, your neighbor wasn’t just some random citizen of New York. You’d only seen him in the hall a few times, and he was nice enough to ask you how your day was going, and even bring you a few misplaced packages. Maybe he’d help you in this dire situation of getting that damn spider off the wall. Not only that, but he would probably get a kick out of it as well. After practically running out of the apartment you called home, you knocked on the door across the hall from yours.

A deep voice rumbled from behind the door with a slight accent, “Who is it?”

You coughed, trying to rid your voice of any shakiness, “It’s your neighbor, Y/n,” The man was silent behind the door, “I need some help with a slight emergency.” There was a few moments of silence, and then you heard the chain being dragged away from the lock behind your neighbors door. The man who opened the door had an unfamiliar face, and he squinted his eyes at you. You’d only ever seen Steve going into the apartment, so you were about to walk away in fear him not being home.

Then, he quickly yelled over his shoulder but still managed to keep his eyes on you, “Steve, some short girl is here!” You smiled at the light jab, since it was obvious he was playing around. While he stood in front of you waiting for Steve, he pulled his long brown hair into a loose bun.

Captain America came into view from one of the rooms down the hall, and the man with long hair moved out of the way, “Can I help you?” He looked down at you with worry, and you knew you were in good hands. Even with a look of concern on his face, Steve looked as handsome as could be.

Instead of explaining how stressful of a week you had, you cut straight to the point, “I know you don’t really know me, but I have a really big spider in my bathroom.” You pleaded, “Can you please kill it for me?” A pathetic smile lifted your cheeks. Who else could say they asked Captain America to kill a spider for them? But it’s not like you were being dramatic considering the arachnid was bigger than your fist.

Steve bit back a laugh and nodded his head, “Sure, show me the way.” He took a step out of his apartment, and then added, “Oh, and please call me Steve.” The man with long hair was right behind him the whole time Steve was speaking to you at the front door, and finally waved the two of you off as you walked back across the hall. The whole situation made you giggle, you’d never spoken to Steve before, but here you are asking him to kill a spider in your apartment. Walking into your apartment you suddenly realized that it was a hot mess, so you immediately jumped to apologize and tried to explain that you were barely ever home. Steve just laughed and said, “Don’t worry, Bucky makes more of a mess than you do.”

You pointed through your room, with a shaky grin, “Okay, the bathroom is to the left, and the spider should be on the wall straight ahead when you walk in.”

Steve took a few quick strides towards the bathroom, and not even a half of a minute later you heard the toilet flushing. He came back out of your room, and smiled as he entered the living room, “The threat is gone.” His hands rested at his hips.

With a little shake of your head, you sighed, “Thank you Steve, hopefully I can sleep tonight and then enjoy my day off Sunday from this crappy place.” You could tell Steve was trying to look you up and down with each nod of his head, so you simply explained that you were a waitress and that your boss had been a dick as of late.

“Maybe I’ll stop in one day, shake your boss up a little.” Steve charmingly smiled, “If you need anything else or want to go get coffee or something, here's my number.” He grabbed a marker, and wrote on the mini whiteboard on your fridge. Your heart was pounding a million miles every second as he closed your apartment door on the way back to his own. It felt like you’d just been thrown for a loop, but for some reason you were undeniably excited.

This was only the beginning for you and Captain America.