#bucky’s mane | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lokisgoodgirl · 2 years ago

Text

A Gentlemen's Agreement [Reader x Loki/Steve/Bucky]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: It's time for you to make up your mind. And the boys have just the plan to help you do that. (w/c 3.2k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smutty. Teasing. Sexual tension. Not a foursome. A/N: Loki is my king. I just needed to get this out thanks to @sidepartskinnyjeans

The click of Steve’s dress shoes echoed as he ushered you away from the busy ballroom of Stark’s county house. Your nerves were fizzing, but your face didn’t betray the flutter of excitement growing in your belly. In the darkness of the mahogany lined corridor, firelight licked from a solitary open doorway. A nod from the captain urged you silently inside. Walking into the room, your breath hitched. Whatever you had expected from his clandestine invitation in the crowd, this wasn’t it.

Steve circled around you, taking his place in the menacingly sensual line-up. There they stood in quiet stoicism, dressed in fitted finery – the trio of beneficiaries to your relentless flirtations. Their arms were folded, their legs wide in triangular determination. For the briefest of moments, you wondered how all of them had managed to excuse themselves from the party at once. But seeing the way they were taking up space, stretching the air with their achingly large egos, that question was quickly forgotten. Each was more breathtakingly handsome than the last. Rogers. Barnes. Laufeyson. “What is this?” you giggled nervously, snapping to each set of blue eyes in turn. They began to smirk in unison. You shivered despite the heat from the fire. “S’come to our attention you’ve been pulling the same tricks on all of us,” the winter soldier drawled, his accent thick with playful taunt. You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t know what you-” “Oh, I think you do, Agent,” Laufeyson hummed, tilting his head. Long fingers drummed on his bicep as he rocked on his heels. Roaring firelight was haloed behind the ebony mane that cascaded around the shoulders of a midnight-blue suit sitting snug to his body. You pressed your lips together, stifling a whimper. “Look fellas, she’s blushing," Steve teased. The three of them chuckled. “I don’t blush,” you snipped, folding your arms to match them. “And I’d appreciate if you could tell me why the three of you are lined up like...like…” The words you searched for ebbed as you readjusted your feet. It was all you could do not to go over on your ankle in these stupid heels. Heat was building between your thighs, the unmistakeable thump of arousal beating as your addled thoughts raced beneath their penetrating stares.

You knew exactly what Bucky meant. And now it seemed, so did they. You knew bending over to pick up that pen in front of all three of them yesterday was a bad idea. Although, no one in the world would blame you – working with three of the finest specimens of masculinity ever created. Had you gone out your way to tease and flirt with each one of them over the past several months? Possibly. But hey, it was good for morale. And besides, there wasn’t a hope in hell any of them would return your affections. Not serial-bed hopper Barnes, he didn’t fuck where he ate. Not tightly wound Rogers, you seriously doubted he’d approve of subordinate relations. And as for the ice king – you weren’t even sure he knew your name.

The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire. God, you wished it wasn’t so hot. Your eyes searched the floor, hearing Loki clear his throat. “As Barnes noted, you have been toying with each of us in a manner both indecent and egregious these past months.” He let the rhetorical judgement marinate in silence before continuing. “Do you deny it?” You raised your eyes to his, seeing the embers of mischief smouldering within. “No,” you said confidently, as all three men cast conspiratorial glances to one another. Rogers balanced his elbow on a tight fist, raising his fingers to his chin. He narrowed his eyes. “That dress though fellas," he growled with uncharacteristic lust. "Have you ever seen such a thing?” Barnes snorted. “Forget two birds with one stone, that outfit takes out three cocks with one hit.” His blue eyes were dark in the low light, heavy brows shadowing the contours as his chin dipped. “An assassin, even off the clock.” he grit. “And she knows how much I love that neck.” While he was speaking, you instinctively brushed a strand hanging from your up-do away from the boatline collar of the dress. He was right. You did know. You had known ever since the first of his ragged breaths, tangible desire pulsing in his veins and stretching his trousers as he massaged your shoulders. The first time you had asked, he had thought you were joking. But every time you felt the cool flatness of his metal limb against your spine, steadying you as his fingers found every pocket of tension in your upper body – both you and he knew it was no laughing matter. Had you exaggerated the moans of pleasure his touch released? No. There had been no need. It felt fucking phenomenal. Orgasmic, even. And you hadn’t held them back. Your neck had extended to the side as his fingertips pulsed into the most delicate areas, breathy pants filling the air that you hoped made him think of how you would sound as he fucked you into the headboard. “And she knows how much I love those legs,” Steve smouldered, curling a finger against his lips as his gaze ran from your hips to the floor and back again. The dress stopped midway up your thighs, perfectly tight before the sheer drop of your limbs to the heels. You had caught him staring open-mouthed as you pulled yourself dripping wet from the ocean on a mission in the Seychelles months ago. His face had flushed as you’d clocked him running up your femurs, a bite of his lip betraying the base need boiling beneath an all-business exterior.

On every mission, you now made a point of elevating your leg as you snapped on the holsters, lunging forward against the nearest bench. Wall. Anything to drive him mad. You wondered how often he thought of your legs wrapped around his hips while his tactical suit lay strewn around his ankles. Without fail, his teeth always found their way to his bottom lip; a clench of his ass and a forbidden husk of ‘goddam’ under his breath making you smirk as you turned away. “And I think not that I need to point out what aspect of the offending garment is for me,” Loki purred, releasing the cross of his arms to fall behind his back in a ceremonial clasp. “It’s green," Bucky stated, licking his lips. “Yes," Loki replied in baritone, cheekbones sharpening. “It is.”

Loki. Now that was a story. Yes, you had felt the linger of his keen eyes on your ass. But who hadn’t. And yes, his gravelled pleasantries that always dripped a little closer than necessary into your ear were tempting. But the god was a walking temptation. It was his nature. He was indiscernible, a mystery. Aside from briefings, the longest you had ever spent in his company had been when he would extend his hand wordlessly on nights just like this, leading you the dance-floor. All onlookers would see was the standard wrapping of his arms around your waist, and yours over his shoulders. They did not see the small circles grazed on the nape of his neck beneath his curls, the half-innocent moans released by his ear when he brought you in from a spin. They did not see the lingering play of your fingers on the delicate skin of his wrists, the bite of your lip as Loki’s hips pressed into your stomach. A solitary flame in a sea of cold indifference. You’d take any heat from him could you get. They didn’t see his brows twitch as he registered the green lingerie down the carefully calculated neckline of your dress. Just for him. Your breathing had becoming shallow. Were you actually about to have all three of them at once? Was that even physically possible? Two super-soldiers and a god? You didn’t know if you would survive – but something told you it might be worth it. Positions and logistics raced through your mind, making you dizzy. You shook your head.

“OK you got me, I fancy all of you. So what? It’s just a bit of fun,” you gasped, running sweaty palms casually down the front of your dress. “The fellas and I have an idea, if you’re agreeable of course,” Steve said slowly, following Loki in clasping his hands behind his back. You squinted, congratulating yourself for encouraging the captain’s foray into unbuttoning the top of his shirts. His pulse was racing, you could see it pumping beneath his jawline. Bucky still stood with his arms loosely crossed over a waistcoat, the cotton of his thick white shirt bulging against metal and flesh. A sliver of steel glinted in the firelight, sleeves folded up to the elbows. He nodded once, without a flicker of a smile. Fuck, they all looked so good. “A gentlemen’s agreement, if you will,” Loki uttered, a smile curling on his lips. He’d been waiting to deliver that line, you could tell. “You like us. We like you. But we don’t share," Bucky glowered matter-of-factly. You could feel the thin fabric of your panties sticking to your lips, tacky and unbearably wet from this erotic ambush. “You don’t?” you quipped. “What a shame.” “We don’t," Steve repeated. “At least not ye-” he cast a glance to Bucky, before clearing his throat. “We think it’s important you uh...focus your attentions. If that’s what you wanna do.” A sudden thrill raced through your blood. The idea that they had planned this, that they had spoken about you in hushed whispers behind closed doors made your pussy hum with forbidden pleasures.

You wandered to the antique sofa to the side, feeling the heated stares of each of the men follow you. “What’s this gentleman’s agreement, then?” you purred, crossing your legs. Steve swallowed as the tight emerald fabric rode up your thigh. The god of mischief laughed softly, a deep sound which seemed to shake the room like bass.

“Each of us will kiss you, and then you must decide,” he said matter-of-factly. “The unsuccessful will respect your choice of victor and no retaliation will be made.” “Decide?” “Which of us to get to know better," Steve explained, shrugging off his suit jacket. He threw it gently over his shoulder, making it land on the back of a chair behind him with magnetic finesse. Bucky rolled his eyes. “I think what the captain’s tryna say is that we all wanna get to know you, better. So it’s lady’s choice,” he winked. You raised an eyebrow towards Loki. You couldn’t imagine him ever agreeing to something like this. A solitary nod was his only response, eyelashes fluttering down in a moment of panty-wetting reverence. “I accept,” you said slowly, running your eyes across the line-up. Their competitive sincerity was catching. You wet your lips in anticipation, still in disbelief that this was actually happening. Perhaps your corpse was lying strewn on the dance-floor, paramedics hoisting you onto a trolley in a body-bag. Perhaps this was heaven. And maybe it was the low lighting, or maybe it was the dancing shadows licking their wide bodies stacked with endless muscle. But you could swear that each and every one of them was hard. “As discussed. Thirty seconds,” Loki murmured coolly to the men standing to attention on his right, flourishing a hand. Barnes stepped forward, smoothing long strands of chestnut hair behind his ears.

“Alright,” he growled confidently, swaggering the several steps and planting onto the sofa beside you. His thighs spread against the antique furniture, flexing beneath the tight suit trousers as he twisted his torso to face you. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, smoked wood and lingering sage like a wet autumn forest. His hand cupped your jawline, the steel arm resting on the back of the curved rest.

“Here goes nothin,” he whispered to himself, curled digits trailing longingly down the curve of your neck. They tugged at the neckline of your dress, slipping it over the curve. He leant forward, parted lips colliding with the crescent of your shoulder. Your eyelids fluttered closed, a staggered moan you didn’t realise was hiding released as he worked across your skin. His stubble tingled against the delicate surface, the flat of his nose slotting beneath your ear as his kisses became hungrier against your pulse point. Less delicate. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this, darlin',” he rasped, before licking licentiously from the base of your throat to the angle of your jaw. In seconds, his mouth was pressed to yours; tongue eagerly flicking against your lips before you let him enter. Bucky’s moan was dynamite, fingers guiding your chin as he devoured you in targeted desire. He leant you backwards into the cushions while your arm instinctually slid between his shoulder-blades, pulling him closer. Barnes groaned as his hand slid covetously from your waist and up the curve of your breasts, before burrowing deep into your bun. He thrust gruffly against you on instinct, something thick and menacingly primal dragging against your thigh. The feeling of his fingers tugging at your scalp sent your heat into overdrive, clenching desperately around air. “Time,” Loki purred calmly. Stubble scratched a final time, your hand flying to rest on his metal arm as you breathlessly broke apart with a whimper. Barnes winked, the skin surrounding his mouth pink as he rose and re-joined the other two. You cast glances between them while your chest heaved.

“Do you need a moment?” Steve inquired politely, folding the sleeves of his shirt up further. You watched the veins in his muscled forearms tighten with the movement, the slight bend of his knees as he gave a deferential cough. As if he’s preparing for a fight, you thought as your head continued to spin from Bucky’s kiss. “No, I’m good,” you slurred, smiling as you straightened and patting the sofa beside you. “I prefer it standing, if that’s alright,” Steve said tentatively, brow twitching in mild alarm as he saw your eyes widen. But he didn’t retract it. Standing obediently, it suddenly occurred to you that a kiss on the hand would be very on brand for him, perhaps rethinking his part in this atypical charade. But Steve paced towards you, looking as determined as he did striding down the ramp of the quinjet. Your breath hitched as the captain’s hands cupped your face, walking you expertly back towards the walled bookcase. A shelf pressed against your spine while Rogers bore down, his gentle tongue nudging at your lips; and with a whimper, he breached. The warmth of the muscle caressing your own made your knees wobble. Hard, rippling abdominals pressed flush against your chest, pinning you softly beneath Keats and Wordsworth while his hands began to smooth over your shoulders, over your waist. You felt like the poets would approve. Steve moaned into your mouth as his palms slid possessively down your thighs, grunting as he whipped them forwards effortlessly around his waist. You yelped in surprise before his lips swallowed yours again, ankles crossing around taut hips. The heat from his skin warmed the scent of ginger wafting from the base of his collarbone, its spice firing in your nostrils. The kiss was hungry and desperate and wild. You could feel his solid cock rubbing against your stomach, tasting every inch of your passion as his fingertips dug into the soft flesh beneath your ass. He thrust softly with every wax and wane of his jaw, needy fingers running through his newly mussed golden hair. You pulled greedily before there was a soft clear of someone’s throat. It sounded like Loki. “Time,” Bucky barked, and reluctantly, Steve returned you to the ground. Still in a daze, and with palms spread against the bookcase, your eyes fell on the final figure. “Believe me…” Loki purred condescendingly, “you’ll wish to sit down for this.”

With shaking steps you teetered to the sofa, plonking down with a sharp intake of breath. Loki glided towards you, elegantly manoeuvring his long limbs aside your own. He brought a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head back. “You are so beautiful.” he murmured, before pressing in to a firm, chaste kiss. One of your hands flew to his thigh, running your palm over the hard, forbidden mass concealed tight and thick beneath the cotton. You desperately keened into him, tongue searching against closed lips. Loki withdrew with a chuckle, sweeping the hair from one side of his head. “If you wish me to stop, tell me,” he whispered hot in your ear, a wave of amber and spices and decadence filling your senses before he slipped from the sofa to his knees. Your eyes widened as he gently spread your legs. “The rules did not specify where I could kiss you.” he explained softly, pre-empting the questioning thrill lighting your eyes. Disgruntled huffs from Bucky and Rogers barely registered as you felt a cool tingle of the god’s magic dissolve your favourite underwear.

Loki’s smouldering gaze latched to yours, lust-drunk and determined, before it fell to the glistening mess at his eye level. “Do you consent to my audition?” he hummed, tentatively pushing the sides of your dress to the tops of your thighs. Your stare flickered to Steve and Bucky, suspiciously observing Loki on his knees with pure jealousy. "Yes," you heard yourself murmur under your breath. Fresh arousal was seeping from your centre, spreading down your heated skin. You had never wanted anything more. "Louder, please," Loki smirked, the curve of his fingers fastened to your knees. “Yes, Loki...g-god-” you gasped, brow furrowing as you urged him on with a tilt.

Immediately, his tongue licked a wide, earth-shattering stripe up your slit from base to tip. Your head fell back with a rattling moan, one hand combing through his hair as the other gripped the armrest. Loki quickly moved your legs over his shoulders, sliding you further back. The god’s open mouth latched to your swollen clit, sucking and lapping lower with sinful precision. All you could see was his dark curls and proud brow, the sight of the god buried between your open thighs making reality blur. Every caress made your hips thrust further into his mouth, shaking breaths shuddering your body as he moaned against your wet heat. The noises he made were utter devastation, muffled pants and enthusiastic slurps sounding between your splayed legs as he ate you out like a starving man. Behind your eyelids, you could feel the covetous gazes of the two soldiers rolling over your body as Laufeyson’s fingertips dug into your calves like a hunter. “T-time,” Steve choked. “No!” you gasped, pawing at Loki’s cheek in despair. The god smiled, chin glistening while closing your trembling knees in a move that could only be described as gentlemanly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, unfurling and retreating backwards to the line-up with his arms spread in a show of feigned innocence. You panted, gathering your thoughts as your gaze landed on each of them in turn. “Lady’s choice,” Bucky re-iterated gruffly, widening his legs. Beside him, the captain’s fingers rested wide on his hips, biting his lip while his eyes lingered on the fresh sheen of sweat clinging to your legs. Loki raised a finger absent-mindedly to the corner of his mouth, brushing the edge before sucking it clean to the second knuckle. His eyes smouldered, fixed on you, the flicker of firelight casting deep shadows in hollowed cheekbones. You took a deep breath, the only name it was ever going to be dancing on the tip of your tongue.

��‍♂️ For those who want a bit...more - A Gentlemen's Bond is the follow up to this.

Tags @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

#loki x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #loki x steve x bucky x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #marvel men #loki x female reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #loki fanfiction #marvel imagine #loki imagine #loki marvel #loki x reader smut #steve rogers smut #bucky smut

1K notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 2 years ago

Text

Pick you up

Summary: Daddy comes to save the day.

Pairing: Biker!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Warnings: angst, bitchy girls, heavy daddy kink, caregiver Ari, sexual harassment (not Ari), implied violence, hurt & comfort (kinda), fluff, comforting, protective Ari

Read the prequel here: Let you down

Pick you up masterlist

“Daddy, please come pick me up. They are all so mean to me,” you sniff on the phone. “I don’t want to stay here. I thought this is going to be fun, but it’s not.”

The girls from your workplace watch you on the phone. They roll their eyes and huff.

“She calls her daddy to pick her up. We were right. She’s not mature enough for our little club. I don’t know what a girl like her wants in New York.”

You hang up and sigh. The plan to spend the weekend with the people you’re working with went down the drain the moment they started to talk low about your outfit, your make-up (or rather the lack of it), and the fact that you don’t want to talk about yourself with people you barely know.

Ignoring your nagging colleagues, you walk out of the living room to grab your bag and jacket. You will wait outside for your daddy to pick you up.

You exhale sharply when one of them follows you outside. “You didn’t have to call your daddy. How old are you, twelve?”

“Just leave me alone,” you shoulder your bag and grab the door handle. “I’ll be waiting outside. I want nothing to do with you and the others.”

It doesn’t take more than ten minutes before you see his bike. Your heart flutters when your daddy brings the motorcycle to a complete stop. He plants both feet firmly on the ground, making you shiver as you stare at his long legs.

You wring your hands as he kicks the kickstand down with his left foot and leans the bike on it.

“Fuck, daddy,” you press your thighs together, adding pressure to your tingling clit.

Ari swings his right foot over the motorcycle to get off it. He takes off his helmet and grins when his eyes land on you.

Eyes glued to Ari; you swallow thickly as he shakes his head to tame his mane.

“That’s…her … daddy?” Your colleagues gathered outside to get a look at your father. Or so they thought. They didn’t know you called your daddy, not your father. “He looks too young for being her father.”

“You are telling me!” Suzanne, the leader of the little group harassing you sneers. “That guy is not her father.”

“He’s so tall and handsome,” Caroline says. “No wonder she didn’t want to play with one of the guys. She’s got a hunk at home.”

“A daddy,” Suzanne grunts. “I knew something is off with that bitch.”

While your colleagues watch you and Ari, he worriedly calls your name.

“Y/N, what happened,” Ari asks, furrowing his brows as you run toward him to bury your face in his chest. “Baby kitten. Do I need to break bones or faces?”

“They wanted to play truth or dare, and spin the bottle,” you begin. “I agreed, because why not?”

“Okay.” Ari hums. “Go ahead. Daddy is here now.”

“Uh-I didn’t know there will be guys too, I swear.” You feel Ari stiffen. A deep rumble emits from his chest, and you know, someone is in trouble. You only hope it isn’t you. “I didn’t want to spin the bottle anymore because they changed the rules.”

“What rules? Tell me about it, princess,” you relax and take a deep breath. Ari always makes you feel safe and calm.

“They said we need to choose truth or dare. I chose dare, and suddenly the guys from the company were there too. They wanted to play too and Suzanne said I must kiss one of them.”

“I’ll kill them,” he growls. No one touches you but him. “No one forces my girl to kiss them.”

“I refused and chose truth instead. I said that I cannot kiss someone else because I got my boyfriend at home. They laughed, but agreed,” You sniffle. “They wanted me to tell them about the last time we had sex. I refused and they made fun of me. Calling me an uptight virgin.”

“It’s alright, I’m here now. Even if you were a virgin, it wouldn’t be a reason to make fun of you. They are awful people,” Ari softly speaks to you. You’re already worked up and he doesn’t want to risk you starting to hyperventilate. “No one is going to hurt you.”

“That’s not all.” You whimper now. “The game continued. The guys joined us. After a few rounds, the bottle landed on me. One of them chose dare and they…they wanted me to…”

“Baby, what happened?”

“They wanted me to ride one of the guys’ thighs. I told them that I got a boyfriend and won’t cheat on him. At first, I thought it was a joke. But they tried to push me onto that guy. I cried and grabbed my phone.”

“And then you called me,” Ari concludes as you slowly nod against him. “Good girl. You knew daddy always comes to your aid. Let me just kill them for you.”

“Please don’t leave me alone. Please,” you sniffle. “I don’t want to be alone with them ever again.”

“Princess, come with me.” Ari takes your bag out of your hands. He wraps one arm around your shoulders to guide you away from your colleague’s house and toward the street.

“Where are we going…?” you gasp as you see the whole club waiting for you and Ari.

You forgot that they wanted to go for a ride. Guilt washes over you. It was Ari’s day off and he wanted to spend it with his friends. Now you messed this up too.

Steve, the boss of the club gets off his bike. He nods at Ari as your boyfriend points at you. “Steve will take care of you for a moment. You like Steve right? He’s a good man and will protect you. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you whimper.

“I’ve got her, Ari. Do what you must do,” Steve’s features soften when you watch Ari leave your side. “He’ll be right back, Y/N. Don’t worry. Ari was out of his mind when he heard you cry on the phone.”

“Maybe we should help him?” Bucky, another member of the club asks. He sneaked around the area and heard every word. “I wouldn’t mind roughing those douchebags up. Break a bone or two.”

“Buck, that’s Ari’s job,” Steve warns. “If he needs our help, we will help. Give him a moment…”

Meanwhile, at the house, Ari barks at the women harassing you. “My girl loves her job and won’t quit because of you. If you ever make her life harder or just look at her the wrong way, we all will pay you a visit.”

“We…we didn’t…” Suzanne stammers. She never got yelled at by a tall guy like Ari before and is close to wetting herself.

“I know what you did,” Ari snaps at her. “Who is the guy putting his hands on my girl? Who wanted to force her to ride his thigh?”

“Uh-it’s him!” The other men point at the man wanting you to ride him. “He said that he wants her before we started the game. We didn’t have anything to do with it. It was all Suzanne and him.”

“You—” Ari cracks his neck. “Well, then. Let me show you what happens when you harass a woman.”

“Ari. Daddy,” you run toward Ari the moment you see him. “What happened?” You look at his bloody knuckles. “You’re hurt.”

“Did you give it to them good?” Bucky smirks. “I can help. Let me break a few bones.”

“Buck, stop. I know you are antsy since your girl left, but we’ve got no time to start a fight,” Steve grunts. “Let’s bring Y/N home. She had a rough day.”

Ari carefully guides you toward his bikes. He softly speaks your name and caresses your back. “I’ll bring you home now, princess.”

After a short ride back home you are in Ari’s arms. He whispers soothing words and nuzzles his face in your neck.

You’re lying on a soft mattress, hidden under the pillowfort you and Ari built for days like these. Days in which the world gets too much for you.

“You’re safe with me, princess. Always.”

“I know,” you mumble sleepily. “My protector…”

Snippet: Care for you

>> Prequel

Tags in reblog.

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson x female reader #tw: daddy kink #biker!Ari levinson #biker au #ari x reader

973 notes · View notes

angelbaby-fics · 11 months ago

Note

chloe! it’s bear! 🥹❤️

i have to go on anon since i can’t ask from my side blog! 🥺

i love your stucky stories and i was wondering if i can request stucky taking their little to the zoo and their little wanting to run off and look at all the animals!

thank you and i hope it’s not too much 🥺 -🐻

Zoo Adventure

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Hihi bear!!!! I'm so happy to see you!!! I combined this request with another in my inbox as well as an idea I've had for literally 2 years now about baby surprising daddies with pictures from a photobooth 😅 well better late than never hehe 💕 And I think this came out pretty adorable if I do say so myself so I hope you guys enjoy!! 💕

Your heart was practically pounding out of your chest as the car pulled into the zoo parking lot. You weren’t even sure if you could stand to wait the few moments it would take for Bucky to get out of his seat and unbuckle you from yours. You knew you had to be in one of your daddies’ arms as long as you were in the parking lot, but it took all of your energy not to bolt straight for the entrance gates. Steve and Bucky shared a proud grin as they each held one of your hands.

You could hardly decide who you’d visit first. The entrance branched off into three different pathways, lions on the left, rhinos to the right, and monkeys down the middle.You stood in the center of the pathways, looking around with wide eyes until you were suddenly hoisted up into Steve’s arms.

“Where do you wanna start, pumpkin?” He asked.

“I dunno!” You answered. “I wanna see everything!”

“Well how about we start with the lions over here, and we make our way around?” Bucky suggested.

“You promise we’re gonna see them all?” You questioned.

“Of course, angel,” Steve replied.

“Don’t wanna leave anybody out.” You said softly. You were always looking out for others, whether it was your friends, your toys, or the animals at the zoo. Your daddies adored how considerate you were.

To help you feel better, the three of you waved and blew kisses at the other animals you could see down the other paths, letting them know you’d be back to see them too as you made your way towards the lion cage.

A big old lion with a giant mane and a grumpy face lumbered out into the grass of the habitat. He reminded you of Bucky in the mornings when he was growing out his hair. Past the lions was a hutch full of tortoises, and they reminded you of Bucky too.

Steve and Bucky took turns carrying you in their arms, neither one of them ever getting tired of course. Sure, you could make your way on your own, but they loved to spoil you in every way. Plus, you could get the best views of all the animals this way, never having to stand on your tiptoes just to see over the fence. The only time you were ever on the ground was in the reptile house, where you had to crouch down to see some of the snakes and lizards in their little habitats. Steve prefered to stand outside for that exhibit.

You laughed as penguins raced each other across the pool, squealing every time one leapt out of the water. The elephants trumpeted just like in the movies, and the monkeys jumped around their cages, swinging from rope and vine like your best friend Peter.

As the sun grew higher in the sky, there was no better time for a lunchtime picnic. The zoo had a plaza with a seating area, a little cafe, and a big shiny merry-go-round. Bucky chuckled to himself when he caught you staring longingly at the carousel. Steve was unpacking your lunches from the bag he’d brought, sandwiches for each of you and little baggies of vegetables and fruits. Finally he pulled out two big water bottles, and - uh oh -

“Oh, baby, I think we left your sippy cup at home!” He said, looking up at you apologetically.

How were you supposed to eat your lunch without your milk or a juicebox? But Bucky came to the rescue with a perfect idea.

“Why don’t you two take a turn on the carousel, I’ll go see what the cafe has for the little one. How about that?”

“Yes yes yes!” You answered, already dragging Steve towards the merry-go-round attendant before he could even reply.

You circled the base of the carousel to find the perfect animal to ride on, ultimately deciding on a majestic zebra. Steve stood at your side, keeping his arm protectively around your waist throughout the ride to make sure you never lost your balance as your noble steed carried you up and down, around and around. When the adventure came to a stop, he picked you up off the zebra and carried you back to the table where Bucky was waiting with a carton of chocolate milk.

You happily ate your lunch, telling your daddies between bites what your favorite animals were so far and which ones you were most excited to see next. After a while, however, Steve and Bucky started to talk about boring grown up stuff, and your mind began to wander as you finished up your lunch.

That's when it caught your eye, something that tempted you even more than the carousel, or the animals, or even the gift shop. You grabbed your coin purse and headed off on your mission, Steve and Bucky too engrossed in their conversation to notice.

At least for about 15 seconds, but by then it was too late. You were out of their sight, and the panic welled up in each of them like an erupting volcano. Wordlessly, they sprang into action, splitting up to look for you in the most efficient way. Steve circled the carousel, his heart dropping as he scanned each animal and found every one vacant. Bucky went back to the cafe, maybe you’d finished your chocolate milk and tried to go back for seconds, but no luck there either. You couldn’t have gone that far, and you definitely would never leave the zoo on your own, but being who they were, there was always the fear in the back of your daddies’ minds that someone would target you to get to them.

They didn’t even want to give that notion a second thought. After clearing the cafe and the carousel, Steve and Bucky met back up at your table to make sure you hadn’t come back, before widening their search. They were about to find a zoo employee to help them when suddenly, a mechanical whirring caught their attention. Both their heads snapped over to the source of the noise, and they were just in time to see a strip of photos fall out of one of the photobooths in the zoo plaza - a strip of photos of you.

The breath they’d each been holding let out as you pulled back the curtain and stumbled back out into the daylight. You were surprised to see your daddies there waiting for you, expecting them to still be at your table

“Oh hi daddies!” You said cheerfully, reaching over to retrieve your pictures. “Looky! I got a present for you!”

You tore the photo strip in half, handing one section to Steve and the other to Bucky, but they just stood in stunned silence.

“Baby…” Bucky whispered, crouching down to embrace you with all his strength.

“You like your present, Baba?” You asked, your voice muffled in Bucky’s shirt.

“We love them, angel,” Steve answered, “But please, don’t ever run off without telling us where you’re going, okay? You made Daddy and Baba very scared.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.” You said, disappointed in yourself. You hadn’t even realized you were misbehaving, too wrapped up in surprising your daddies with your special gift to realize you hadn’t thought through your plan all that well.

Bucky let you go with a kiss on your cheek, and you kissed him back, and Steve as well.

“Thank you for apologizing, baby,” Bucky said, “And thank you for the present. We love it, angel.”

Bucky put the photos of you smiling at the camera in the front pocket of his wallet where he could always look at your angelic face whenever he needed to. Steve put the photos in his shirt pocket, vowing to put it in his compass as soon as he got home.

#little!reader #stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky #marvel agere #bucky x little!reader #steve x little!reader #steve rogers x little!reader #daddy!bucky #daddy!steve rogers #cg!steve rogers #cg!bucky #cg x little!reader #sfw agere #chloe's fic

336 notes · View notes

storiesfromafan · 5 months ago

Text

MIA - Buck x Reader

A/N: so I am back with part 2 to Rumours. Not sure how I feel about this...but it will have to do haha. I will do a part 3, and that will be it.

Forgive me if any information is wrong, as I had to change a few things around to suit the story. As well as any spelling and grammer mistakes 😅

Tag list: @strayrockette (you asked for angsty, hope I met the requirement...maybe lol)

October 8th 1943 was a day you wouldn't forget. Starting with waking to this foreboding feeling gnawing at the back of your mind. And with every minute of the passing morning your stomach sinking further and further. Something was to happen that day, which usually meant death, injury and despair with a mix of grief.

Earlier that morning the 100th had flown out on a raid. It was like they normally would, no one would have guessed the out come of their return. You had spent the morning doing inventory and getting everything ready for the 100th return. If this raid was like any other, there would be some injured men coming into your medical. The Doctor's were waiting, ready for whatever was to come. While the other nurses prepared for what they would see.

When the transport vehicles rolled out, maned by men who were use to everything traumatising and disturbing. You might see the men when they are wheeled in, but to see them as they are pulled from their plane, you don't think you could stomach that. You had over heard a few men telling other female nurses the gruesome details, every stomach churning missing limb and exposed insides. And you can't forget the blood.

Standing with the other nurses and Doctors, with baited breath, you all waited. Ready for action, to help and save lives. You heard the vehicles come flying down the dirt road, the muffled noise of men talking before the cries of those injured. When the doors burst open and the first few men were brought it, you all sprung into action.

You didn't think, you just acted. Moving to help a man who was covered in blood, you looked him over assessing his wounds. He had a few large, deep cuts but none were in any areas of major arteries. But he did had a broken leg and dislocated arm. The sounds he made was hard to listen too, it pulled at your heartstrings. But you kept on moving, doing your job.

When you were done with him you moved on to the next, and then the next, till all that had came in were seen too. Hours went by, it was late morning when you had started, and it was now evening when you finally stopped. Done with your work. Clothing covered in blood, body drained and exhausted. But you felt satisfied, knowing all men were alive. Yet the night would only tell how the worst would fare.

Stepping out of the medical building, the evening breeze hitting your face. Closing your eyes, you inhaled the fresh air into your lungs, a stark contrast to that of the sterile space you had been in. Rolling your shoulders back, you stretched your arms and hands, enjoying how your body creaked and cracked. Your ears took in the faint sounds of the base. Enjoying the sounds around you, unlike what you had listened to, which had been filled with cries, moans, groans and machines for hours.

If only you had been warned not to open your eyes, you could have lived in ignorant bliss. For as soon as you opened them you were greeted to the sight of one Major Egan. The usual boyish charm and cheeky nature gone, replaced with sadness and anguish. That foreboding and sinking pit in your stomach surfacing after being pushed away while you worked. Today was a day you had dreaded. A day that you prayed to never meet.

“It's B-Buck...” Bucky managed to get out, voice hollow and strained. “H-his plane...it-it went down...”

Hearing those words laced in pain, as Bucky did his best to keep himself together. It was like standing there, telling you, made it finally sink in, how real the situation was. The chances were Buck had gone down with his plane, possibly dead. Or he managed to evacuate and was now in enemy territory, which meant death or becoming a prisoner. No matter what way you thought about it, there was a chance of Buck not returning.

You felt the air in your lungs hinder. Breathing in all aspects getting harder. Your chest tightening with the dread you were feeling. You could feel tears rising in your eyes. Bucky looked up from staring at the ground, and upon seeing your reaction to the news, swiftly moved to grab your arm. He led you to a bench near by before helping you sit, then taking the spot next to you.

Everything seemed to fade away, leaving you with an ache in your chest. You couldn't form any words, yet your mind was running wild with them. So many questions that you wanted to ask. Bucky watched you as you stared off into the distance. He understood what you were going through, processing the terrible news. He had been in the same position as you hours before.

Bucky cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the lump that seemed to be sitting there. “I...I thought you should hear the news from me...” his voice was low, trying to be as calm as he could.

You nodded, still having trouble to speak. But the silence between you too wasn't uncomfortable, for you both understood the other right now. Maybe you both needed the other, to work through this moment. A moment that could have come at any time. Bucky knew that, and you both knew Buck knew it. It was part of their job, knowing at any minute they are up in the air, and then the next they would be coming down. With a slim chance of survival in this war.

With time Bucky spoke to you, telling you to clean up and take it easy. Mentioning how he would be having a drink by the planes, if you wanted to join him. Still you hadn’t spoken, but nodded your heard slowly. With that, you shakily got up from your seat and headed back to your room. It was when you were behind a closed door, back resting against the wood, and sliding down to sit on the floor. That was when you finally let your tears free. You broke down, heartbroken and longing to see Buck, even for just one more fleeting moment.

True to his word, you found Bucky that night on the wing of a plane. You had been in your room for ages trying to stop your tears, and only finally was able to get it under control. Not wanting to be alone, you had decided to seek out Bucky. You made your way up to the base of the plane, looking up at the intoxicated man who sat with his feet hanging over the edge of the wing.

“B-Bucky...” you spoke, voice horse and not sounding like yourself. A result from your crying. “Are you alright up there?”

He swayed a little, his head turning down to look to you. “F-fine...I guess" he sputtered.

“Maybe you should come down...” you said concerned for his well being.

Bucky just nodded his head before slowly and a little unsteadily, getting down. With his feet on the ground, you moved to sit you both in front of the plane. The ground was hard, and a little cool, but you both would be fine. Silence filled the space around you, but both happy to take comfort in each other.

With time Bucky began to speak, reminiscing on moments with Buck. He told you how they met and became friends, what they had both gone through up in the air. How he was like a brother to him. And how they both liked being around you, recalling when they first met you. And what he thought about you, and Buck's reaction to you.

“We both liked having you around, you know?” Bucky questioned. “It was nice to have a dance partner that could take a joke" he laughed.

You smiled softly, for the first time feeling happy hearing his words.

“Buck...Buck liked having someone to talk to that was level headed, like him. He told me how close you both were, and I was happy he had you. And when those rumours made the rounds, he was Hell bent on putting an end to them" he chuckled. “Had me wondering...”

You looked at Bucky in confusion. “Wondering what...?”

“You know" he said tilting his head, when you continued to look at him the way you were he went on. “You know...if you and Buck were – well you know”.

You sat up straight at his insinuation. Bucky thought you and Buck were seeing each other privately, and engaging in inappropriate behaviour. “N-no, not at all" you replied quickly.

“But you do have feelings for him, right?” Bucky asked, looking you in the eye. “He came back after speaking to you, he didn't say it but I could tell something went down between you both, right?”

You averted your eyes from his. Deciding there was no reason to hide it, you nodded your head. Out of all the people on the base, Bucky and Buck were to two you could trust. And it looked liked you only have Bucky left.

“I knew it...I think he cared for you. But with Marge, he was devoted to her...” Bucky thought out loud. “Watching you both, I could see something there...but you're both so good, to do anything to hurt someone...”

You didn't understand what the Major was getting at. Deciding it was time for him to get to bed, you voiced it. “Alright Bucky, I think its time you get some rest”.

You moved to help him up, but Bucky protested, almost having a child like fit. But with a little bit of talking to him, you were able to talk him into it. With his arm over your shoulders, you helped get Bucky back to his room, before leaving him at his door. Reluctantly you headed back to you room. Once in bed you had wanted to sleep, but it was something that you got next to none off. How your sleeping pattern would be from here on out.

The course of the next few weeks seemed to be following a steady path. But, once more, you are struck with bad news. First Buck, now Bucky. His plane going down and with that, the last of your hope for everyone else. You cried and thought of the Major, but no where near as it had been for Buck.

Lost to war were two strong men. Who didn't deserve what they got. No more mischievous and anger inducing moments with Bucky, whom you would gladly have one more dance with, only to have him make you laugh. No more electrifying discussions with Buck, were you would enjoy looking into his stormy blue eyes, that caused butterflies to swarm your stomach. Now it was an empty pit, with a chest to match.

A/N: one of my favourite moments was Buck dancing with Meatball 😍

#gale buck cleven #buck x reader #gale cleven x you #gale cleven x reader #austin butler x reader

84 notes · View notes

fandomfluffandfuck · 6 months ago

Note

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEE WRITE SOMETHING WITH TOUCH STARVED WINTER SOLDIER AND MALE HANDLER READER (or stevie, whatever floats ur boat) I AM DESPERATEEEE

I've kind of written something with touch starved, early-deprogramming Bucky and Steve--"Don't Forget To Remember Me"--so, I'll go ahead with the x-reader part of this prompt here!

Mentions of HYDRA cruelty below the cut, nothing exactly "on screen." This is mostly angsty fluff, actually.

You aren't sure when it began because no matter how deeply you scrub your mind for clues, shifting through the heavy rubble of your time with "S.H.I.E.LD" going from a regular recruit to being drug into the ugly underbelly with the grimy cockroaches of HYDRA, there isn't a clear path. Perhaps it started when you were assigned the joke grunt work of waxing the asset's chest (x). Or, maybe, it really started after you had been shown to do a satisfactory enough job at stripping the asset to naked flesh, so then you were assigned to deal with the knots that had developed at the back of the asset's neck. Told to rip a wide tooth comb through its mane as the thought occurred to you that, huh, it felt a lot like when you used to have to do this for your younger sisters after a summer of wild, young shenanigans. Hollering at the top of your lungs late into the hot evenings. Swimming for hours in pools and lakes and any bodies of water you could get yourselves to, almost always with wrinkled fingertips, baths or oceans or anything just to feel the cool lapping water. Playing chase, flying out the doors of the house when your parents had finally had enough of bulls in their china shop. Running through fields into forests, racing to climbing trees and hopefully not tumble out of them and end up in a cast (again). Summers with the weather too nice and the sun staying suspended in the sky for hours, so you were too busy for silly things like brushing hair. You were only saved by the fact that your mother insisted on buzzing your hair to the scalp for summers, no need to brush that. Your sisters didn't have the luxury.

It's kind of like those times with your sisters--raking a comb through the soldier's unkept hair.

Once, with late, mature summer bleeding into gestating fall, the colors fading and muddling, you found your sisters hair had become too tangled to undo, so you complained, and your parents had made her get her hair cut. She balled her eyes out after they proclaimed it, stuttering and pleading, her thin chest heaving, just try mooore! The knots got in! They can get out! But no. They couldn't come undone. She would have to deal with it and learn to take care of her hair better or she could have her hair buzzed seasonally like you. (She was not thrilled, even if that was at a time when she looked up to you, her big brother, her hero)

Working harshly through the asset's mane is sort of like that. But not.

Really not.

You are never gentle with the soldier like you were with your baby sisters.

Left with the asset, you were instructed to tear the knots out, be as unkind (or cruel, if you like) as needed. Just get them out of the way. Tear them out. Lather them up and comb through. Buzz them off with clippers. And if the asset acts up, use a knife--it doesn't have to be just on its hair, you can't hurt it that bad, so don't think twice.

So...

Yeah, maybe it started then. Somewhere negligible and nebulous between the waxing of its chest and combing-slash-cutting of its locks.

If it started then, that would make sense, because now, whenever the soldier and you are alone for whatever reason (or nonreason), it crawls into your lap like some kind of desperate, feral raccoon. A creature that's dirty and trembling and, somehow, hungry enough to be entirely reckless, directly approaching the human who owns the trash cans it's rummaging through, trying to find anything to stuff into its mouth of rotten, putrid teeth.

And what are you to do in these times, alone with a lapful of weapon?

Typically, when it happens, the soldier seems too fragile to push away. If it is animated--thawed and moving of it's own volition--the asset is often fresh from a mission where you know it's been run ragged, barely fed, hardly given time to rest. As is protocol. So, it is fragile.

This time in particular, though, it's been so recently wiped you can still smell the sharp bleach and dull undercurrent of electricity wafting off of it, supposedly clean yet faintly fried. Acidic. Almost the smell of lazer hair removal but on steriods. Your lip curls up involuntarily at the stench. You always have a moment of hesitation when it does this. And this time is no exception.

You remind yourself that this will make your future grunt work easier. Right? That's why you accept this strange ritual. Isn't it? It's okay for you to lay your hands on the asset if it's part of your job. You will not be punished for it, nor will the asset. Right? This is just like waxing it's chest, combing it's hair, or adjusting its tac gear. Isn't it?

With it's surprisingly light weight in your lap, you do not viciously grab, digging your nails into it's flesh and scars and metal; nor do you slap or hit or pull, rather you set your hands on it's grimy, sweaty back. More evidence of it's recent wiping alongside it's still trembling muscles. Thick sweat overeating involuntary twitches so sharp it looks painful and unnatural, more like a robot jolting than an organic thing moving. Contortions. Convulsions.

With your hands on it's upper back and shoulder, the soldier makes a sound like metal creaking, bent too far, about to snap, warning the manipulator of the impending give. Shards will fly.

You do not feel threatened.

The asset is bent, nearly broken after it's mission and the maintenance after. It cannot hurt you. You could hurt it easily with its fragility and brittleness. Except, you don't intend to hurt it now or any other time when you are alone together. Instead, you allow the minutes to tick by before heavy footfalls announce the entrance of another cockroach, crawling out to shove the asset back into the freezer before scurrying away.

In your spare change minutes, you bizarrely reward the asset and it's starved raccoon behavior, rubbing the cold coins together, if the noises the soldier makes are anything to go by. Metal on metal. Rubbing. Rusty, almost whines as your hands sweep slowly down it's back, following the line of it's bent out of shape spine all the way down to the top of his tac pants that they've left on it this time.

Under your hands, it is only quivering lines of flesh, muscle, and bone shot through with harder callouses of thick scars and metal. If you go based off feeling alone, you would assume that the asset has already been broken--bent past the natural give sheet metal has to it--with all the shrapnel left in it's body. It has bent, snapped, and shattered. The feeling of the asset, by virtue of how rough and sharply-edged it is, makes your movements turn slower and even more gentle, you couldn't make your hands turn cruel if you tried.

You're nearly massaging the creature now, and you can't help but notice how cold it is as you touch it, rubbing its back, shoulders, and the nape of its neck. Every time this ritual unfurls, you notice. It is strange. Shouldn't a soldier with impeccable healing and speed and strength unfurling run much hotter? It puzzles you, but so do many of the things about the asset and the cockroaches that puppet it, crawling inside it, filling its frame with an infestation. Why does it do anything? You have no room to wonder, though, because why do you do anything they say, anyway? How did you get here? What would your baby sister's think of this? What would the wild, summer-sweetened boy you used to be think of this?

The asset creaks again, bringing you back to this ritual. It's pushing it's spasming back into your hands. You sigh, finding, feeling, a knot deep in the muscle below its metal shoulder. You are unwilling to tenderize the muscle, untangling the knot, because it would hurt. You've had deep tissue massages. They do not feel good. The mission and maintenance of the soldier are fresh in your mind and inhaled through your nostrils, so you can not bring yourself to add to its pain.

The best you can do, not adding pain, is some skin-deep soothing. Nothing more. You cannot change much. In parallel, you and the asset are stuck. What you can do is keep the asset's hair tangle-free, you can opt to shave the asset instead of wax it, and you can give into it's hunger. Sometimes. When it's safe to do so. If the cockroaches have the power to blend the soldier's brain into a slurry of nothing but obedience, they can do the same to you. If the cockroaches can twist and alter the precise balance of homeostasis to a sickly chill with injections that burn so badly inside the asset that it has to be held down, risking broken bones and torn muscles, than they can do anything. Everything.

So, shockingly, it is with a weapon lying across your lap--used against humanity as a precise knife between the ribs, slotting into the heart of men who represent hope and uprising and future--that you relocate your own organic nature. Your compassion. Your morals. Your humanness.

And if you leave the lock to the cage containing the asset for the last few hours before he goes back on ice open... that is been you and the asset you have cradled and held and come to know as organic and human despite the metal forced to be a part of him.

You can only hope the asset seizes the opportunity. A way out. The chance to reclaim the humanity it--he has been stripped of.

#asks #fandomfluffandfuck #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x male reader #x reader #x male reader #hurt/comfort

70 notes · View notes

rambleonwaywardson · 7 months ago

Text

Clegan Olympics AU - "Find Your Line"

Chronologically, this part comes before "The Paris Date." Catch up via this Masterpost if you're new here

AU Summary: Paris 2024 Olympics. Gale is on the U.S. equestrian eventing team, Bucky is a U.S. gymnast, they meet on the plane to Paris, and a love story ensues.

Author's Note: A deep dive into Gale's past. I totally didn't almost make myself cry writing this nope nope nope. Went from having no idea what I was doing with this installment to having it get away from me a bit.

TW for some mentions of abuse in Gale's past.

---

US Equestrian has launched several initiatives going into the Paris Olympics to increase interest in the sport, especially in younger generations. So when Gale, Benny, and Marge were all selected to the eventing and jumping teams, of course they capitalized on having young, attractive, charismatic riders representing USET. Gale has slowly gotten used to the attention he’s garnered in the horse world, but it came as a shock when he found himself being shoved into major newspaper interviews and morning shows ahead of the Games.

He never really wanted any of that. He didn’t grow up with daydreams of grandeur. Really, he grew up unsure he was ever going to make it anywhere at all. His only daydreams were about finding something better, whatever that may be. He didn’t ask to be thrust into the public eye or fawned over by young fans. He won’t complain too much, because he loves what he does and he's grateful every day for where he’s found himself.

But if you ask him, he’d rather skip the morning interviews in favor of getting an early start at the barn. That’s when he likes it the most, when it’s quiet. No one but the earliest grooms rustling about, checking on the horses and prepping morning feed. Nothing but the birds in the rafters and a breeze coming through the doors, the new morning sun stretching lazily down the aisle way.

The stables in the morning have always been Gale’s safe place. Ever since he was a child, it was his escape. It didn’t matter what happened within the walls of their little Wyoming farmhouse. In the morning, he could slip away into the old barn standing vigil behind their home, and he could hide among the horses, the angels watching over him. He’d talk to them like friends, run his hand down their soft noses and feel their hot breath puffing against his skin.

He took solace in methodically checking each of them over every day. He could breathe in the sweet scent of hay and horse without feeling the need to look over his shoulder. He’d wrap his arms around their necks and bury his face in their manes. Their ears would twitch back and forth, and they’d playfully nuzzle his hands while he spilled all of his secrets and fears. They let him hug them as tight as he needed to, and they happily absorbed every tear, every muffled sob. They were his protectors, and his greatest confidants.

When he was older, the horses granted him access to the wilderness beyond their homestead, sometimes even beyond the extensive reaches of their entire ranch. He’d pack a saddle bag and choose one of them to saddle up, sometimes the moment the sun rose, and he’d spend hours out in the countryside. He would disappear from the rest of his life, letting his horse carry the weight of the tiny, fragile world bearing down on his shoulders. He’d ride until he ran out of places to go, until he couldn’t feel anything but the beautiful universe breathing life back into his tired soul.

Even now, as an international eventer, he has days where the training isn’t speaking to him the same way. Days when he’ll revisit his childhood in the mountains, saddle up one of his horses and take them out on the trails instead of riding in the arena. Days when no one knows where Gale Cleven went, because he expressly does not want to be found. He still has days where he’d like nothing more than to gallop bareback through a field, a cowboy hat shielding his face from the hot sun. Nothing but him and his horse and the Earth beneath their feet, a breath of fresh air that reminds him of why he’s here.

Horses have always been his safety, no matter the discipline or the breed or where on this Earth he lives. The barn has always welcomed him into its arms, sheltering him when there was nowhere else.

But growing up, it always had to start in the morning.

Gale learned that the hard way, as he learned so many things growing up under his father’s heavy hand. He’ll never forget the day his dad stormed into the barn before sunrise, looking for his ‘disobedient son.’ Gale, half asleep, cowered in the corner of one of the stalls, hay stuck in his unruly hair and clinging to his pajamas. The previous evening had been bad, after Dad came home drunk, looking for a fight. The bruises bloomed quickly on Gale’s arms and chest, and he went to the only safe place he knew. He was eight years old.

But his dad found him in that stall, hiding behind his favorite little quarter horse mare, and he dragged Gale out by the neck. Angry at his son for wasting a perfectly good bed, choosing instead to sleep in a barn just to avoid him, he decided the bruises he’d administered eight hours before were no longer enough. “Ungrateful little shit,” he’d snarled as he shoved Gale to the ground. Gale remembers the silent tears on his own face and how they felt sticky as they mixed with the dirt on his cheeks; he’d learned not to cry out loud. He remembers the horses kicking at the walls and shrieking in the night, unable to protect him.

Gale’s father had always been at his most sane around the farm animals, almost a man that his son could look up to. Almost. But that night, not even the barn could keep the little boy safe. He never went out there at night again.

The only thing Gale is grateful to have inherited from his father is a love of horses. Ironically, his dad was the one to plop him in a saddle and teach him how to hold the reins in the first place. He taught him how to take care of these beautiful animals, even if he had no idea how to take care of a son. He taught Gale how to communicate with them, how to appreciate them and respect them. He taught him how to ride, how to rope, how to get back up no matter how many times he fell. They’d work the ranch together, side by side on the good days. Up at dawn and home at dusk, their legs sore by the end of the day from too much time in the saddle, arms tired from fixing fence or roping cattle, faces bronzed from the sun. His dad never even minded when Gale took a horse and disappeared into the wilderness, because “sometimes a man just needs to be alone in the mountains.” That was the language he spoke. The only language he spoke.

Gale’s dad unwittingly gave him his only ticket out, and it was the only thing they ever shared. It was the only time Gale ever felt close to him. Until his mom introduced him to English riding when he was 13 years old, dressage and jumping both. He fell in love with it immediately. Maybe it was the challenge, the beauty, the grace. Maybe he knew his father wouldn’t like it. Maybe he just wanted to be close to his mama.

“Find your line,” she would tell him, almost every time she watched him ride. Choosing the right line for a jump is critical, both in cross country and show jumping. If you come at an obstacle or combination wrong, it can set you up wrong for the next. He was never sure, though, if she was talking about the jumps, or about life.

His dad never supported his interest in dressage. Or eventing. Or English riding in general. He thought it was soft, prissy, feminine. He never seemed to mind Gale’s mom doing it. At least, he never said anything about it. But he said he raised his boy to be tougher than that. He taught him to rope cattle and ride in the mountains of the west, like a man (all things he continued to do until he left for college, mind you). He raised him to take over the ranch, like there was no other reason to bring a son into this world. He taught him how to rough it in the country. Not to prance around a ring in a cushy saddle and show coat with braids in his horse’s mane.

His father was ignorant. Gale knows that, now. But he long ago internalized the anger and the fear. He long ago came to terms with being a disappointment of a son. Too quiet, too shy, too smart, too stubborn. Too skinny, too sensitive, too pretty, too needy. Too much of a mama’s boy. Too little like his dad. Too ungrateful. Too opinionated. Too sassy. Too queer.

His dad always suspected Gale was gay, and he tried to beat that out of him. He tried to beat it all out of him.

Gale did it all, anyways.

The beatings got worse the older he got, the more Gale’s father realized that his son would never be the man he wanted him to be. By the time he was eighteen, there was no use hiding it. His dad asked him over dinner one night, right after he graduated from high school, why he didn’t ask Marge to marry him already. That’s what everyone expected him to do, even though he and Marge had called it off nearly six months before, when Marge realized she wasn’t what Gale wanted. He tried to tell his dad that they were just friends now, but his dad just pushed and pushed and pushed.

“She’s a lovely young lady… a shame to let her go… get your head on straight, boy… why the hell not?”

The rage boiled over. Maybe it was years of trying to keep his head down, trying not to talk back, trying to save himself even though it never even mattered. Or maybe it was because Gale knew he was leaving soon anyways. Might as well get it all out there. Might as well give it one last go. Why the hell not. He slammed his fork down, rattling the whole table. His mama knew what he was gonna say before he even opened his mouth, and she shook her head. He didn’t listen. “Because I don’t like girls!” he yelled. “I’m fuckin’ gay, dad! Okay! I’m gay. I’ve always been gay.”

That night was the only time his dad ever managed to put him in the hospital. Three broken ribs, a punctured lung, and a fractured wrist.

It broke his mama’s heart, but Gale spent the rest of the summer with Marge’s family, his best friend’s family, letting himself heal. And in the fall, the two of them got the hell out of Wyoming, headed for college on the east coast. He never said goodbye to his father.

For the first time, Gale thought he knew what Mama meant when she told him to find his line. He felt free in a way he’d only ever experienced alone in the mountains. Free to find his own path, his own life, his own self. He stumbled here and there, but he found his own stride. He worked his way through school on horse farms, rode for the university eventing team, and caught the attention of some well-known local trainers. With an unbreakable country-boy spirit and the delicate grace and patience of a well-trained dressage rider, he could do just about anything. Take on any horse they threw at him. Find the kindness in even the wildest prospects. He became known for his ability to connect with the horses, and for his natural talent in the saddle. People noticed. Neil Harding noticed, took him in, gave him a chance to thrive for the first time in his life. And Gale made damn sure he gave it his all.

Now here he is, standing in front of his horse’s stall in Paris. He wonders, if his dad were still around, if any part of him would be proud. He wonders if he’d finally understand. Gale thinks not.

“Hey there, baby girl.”

He walks into Whiskey’s stall, and she lifts her head in greeting, dropping grain all over the front of his shirt. Another day, another stain. He laughs and strokes the side of her face as she turns her attention back to her feed bucket. Gale used to get angry at himself for allowing thoughts of his father to intrude on this safe space he’d carved for himself in the world. But he’s older now. He’ll never forgive what his dad did to him; he’ll never forgive him for any of it. Not for a single blow or a single word. But it’s still a part of the story that landed him right here, and he wouldn’t trade this for anything.

Sometimes he still imagines his father’s voice, telling him how to pick a hoof or check for lameness or read a horse by the way they twitch their ears and angle their head. “She’ll tell you everything you need to know, if you know how to listen.”

Sometimes he feels those broad, callused hands guiding his own to feel for swelling or heat in an injured leg. And sometimes he feels those hands grabbing him roughly by the neck or pounding bruises into his ribs. Sometimes he hears that voice telling him what a disappointment he is, growling at him to stop bein’ so stubborn, stop bein’ such a goddamn fag, stop cryin’, stop talkin’, don’t you dare give me that attitude.

Gale smiles wryly at Whiskey as he smooths his hand along her back, listening to the swish of her tail and the sounds of her munching her grain. His perfect, dedicated, sassy young mare, who Harding had given him the chance to train so many years ago. “Such disappointments,” he says sarcastically. There’s a giant Olympic ribbon on the outside of Whiskey’s stall door that says otherwise.

Gale takes his time running his hands along Whiskey’s legs, feeling for anything abnormal. Kenny will do all of this over again when Gale leaves to walk the jump course. But personally ensuring his horse’s well-being is a habit from his childhood that he’ll never let go of.

He steps back, taking everything in. He’s at the Olympics, competing for the United States on a beautiful mare that he trained from the ground up. He’s the new face of the US Equestrian Team, and he’s damn proud of himself. He’s found himself a new family. He’s found himself a better life. Hell, he’s even found himself… John. Whatever John is to him.

He looks at Whiskey, then up at the rafters above. Sunshine is streaming in, and the air smells like hay, just like the little barn he grew up spending his days in. All these years, and tucked away in his horse’s stall is still the greatest sanctuary he’s ever found for himself. He smiles at the same time he feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes. For once, instead of his father’s voice, he hears his mama’s: “Find your line, Gale. You can be incredible. You already are.”

–

“You’re incredible!” That’s what Bucky will exclaim when he finds Gale after his ride that afternoon, dragging him into a tight hug. The words will hit like a ton of bricks, and Gale will have to keep himself from crying tears of joy and relief, and also of grief for the little boy he’d been, who overcame so much to get here. Bucky will never know what those words mean to him, unless Gale one day chooses to tell him.

Before that, though, they have a medal to win. Gale is the rising star of US Equestrian, but seeing as he’s only in his twenties, not everyone believes he can do this. Gale Cleven and Hundred Proof are going to prove them wrong.

They’re going to prove his father wrong.

The stands are packed, and a sea of red, white, and blue gets to their feet and cheers as they enter the arena. It’s filled with colorful jumps, all themed after France’s culture and history. A small Eiffel Tower at the side of an oxer here, a vertical made to look like the Arc de Triomphe there, countless jump poles painted in the colors of the French flag. The water jump is meant to look like the Grand Canal, with a miniature of Versailles at one end – somewhat ironic, since the arena is in front of Versailles itself. The jumps are arranged differently today than they were for the team event yesterday. Gale walked the course this morning, and he’s running through it in his head.

“For the United States, Gale Cleven and Hundred Proof.” When the announcer calls their names, Gale canters Whiskey in a small circle in the center of the arena. Time starts… now.

It takes them a moment to find their rhythm, but they manage the first few combinations without a hitch, Gale carefully counting their strides between each. They have a 90 degree turn coming up between one vertical and the water jump. During team finals, the mare didn’t get enough air time and splashed her back hoof into the water, earning them a penalty. Gale guides her through a wider turn today, even if it costs them a few tenths of a second, and he urges her to open up a couple of strides earlier. He feels her reach with everything she has, her hooves digging into the sandy footing before she takes off. She lands easily, just barely on the other side of the water, and they’re clear.

“Don’t turn her too tight. Let her have her head when she asks. Girl’s got scope, she’ll take care of you.” Harding’s words ring in his head. As one of the team USA coaches and the first big name to give Gale a chance, he’s been the greatest key player in getting them here today. He’s carefully guided Gale through the good and the bad, and he knows the habits and capabilities of horse and rider both.

Sure enough, there’s a hairpin turn from one jump to the next, and Gale takes it too tight. He can’t help but wince as Whiskey loses her rhythm just as they’re lining up for the next jump, having to slow down with a single trot step breaking their stride before he picks her back up. He’s worried he’s screwed them over, but Whiskey adjusts her stride length and pulls at the reins, asking for her head. He gives her the space and pushes her on, trusting her to get them through this. She does it, sailing over the vertical without so much as clipping the pole.

Find your line.

A triple combination is all that’s left, and they take it by storm. As they land on the other side, Gale covers his mouth with one hand, overcome with emotion, before raising his fist in the air. He looks at the time on the giant clock over the arena entrance. 81 seconds – three seconds under the optimum time – and no penalties. The roar of the crowd makes him feel like he’s going in slow motion, and he knows they know. He and Whiskey are going home with an individual medal.

You can be incredible. You already are.

–

There’s a pretty new ribbon hanging outside Whiskey’s stall, right next to the first. Nine years old, and she’s already a superstar. All she wants, though, are the treats in Gale’s pocket. He obliges happily.

Alone in the stall save for the horse, Bucky doesn’t bother tamping down the urge to kiss Gale silly. He pulls him close, presses their lips together, and cards his fingers through sweat-drenched hair. Gale makes a huffing noise somewhere between a laugh and a moan, and Bucky can feel him smiling against his lips. The sweetness of it makes Bucky’s heart stutter all funny, makes his whole body go weak with a feeling he increasingly thinks might be akin to love, or something like it. He’s not sure he would know.

It’s kind of funny: sometimes, over time, the words you find yourself using to describe someone pop up like clues in a treasure hunt. You don’t even notice at first, but slowly they come together, pieces of a puzzle, leading you towards one bigger picture – you love this person. You love them more than anything.

When Bucky first met Gale, he thought he was beautiful. Hot. Attractive. Handsome.

And then there was cute, angelic, adorable.

Caring, loving, dedicated, driven, smart, ambitious, strong.

Perfect.

Today, there’s “sweet.”

The more Bucky gets to know Gale, the more he wants to know. He wants to know everything. He wants to breathe Gale in and hold him close and never let go and give him everything he’s ever wanted.

After Bucky’s sister died, he spent years pushing the idea of love away, being too scared to let someone get close to him for fear of feeling pain like that again. Now, though, he feels his resolve breaking bit by bit, cracks forming every time Gale sends a barely-there smile his way, or seeks him out in a crowd, or reaches for his hand. Bucky doesn’t know if he’s ready for it, but the world doesn’t care. The world sent Gale Cleven to him like some sort of divine prophecy telling him “it’s time to let go,” and Bucky thinks maybe, just maybe, he wants to listen. He wants to relearn what it is to love someone. He wants to feel it. He wants it so bad.

But it scares him too much.

So he focuses on the now, brushing the existential crisis aside in favor of what he does know: he has a beautiful man right here in his arms. Everything else can wait. He matches Gale’s smile, their noses bumping as Bucky grips Gale’s waist. “You look so good in these, you know that?”

Gale glances down at himself. He can’t say if his cheeks are warm from the heat or from something else. He removed his coat already, leaving him, once again, in a sweat-soaked white shirt tucked neatly into white riding pants that perfectly outline his legs and ass, a black belt calling attention to his waist. “Do I?”

Bucky nods and rests his forehead against Gale’s as he tugs him even closer, if that’s possible. “So fuckin’ good, Buck.”

Yeah, Gale is definitely blushing now. Point, Bucky.

“You’d look even better without them.”

Gale laughs awkwardly, tiredly, even as he finds his hands wandering up Bucky’s sides, coming to rest on his muscular back. “There’s nothin’ sexy about tryin’ to peel off skin tight riding pants when I’m drenched in sweat.”

“Sounds like a challenge.”

“Trust me, not one you wanna take on.”

“Try me.”

“I smell like shit.”

“I didn’t care before, I don’t care now.”

Gale bites his lip and shakes his head. He feels his general state of awareness fading in and out. One second, he’s all too conscious of the fact that they’re in a fancy-ass Parisian barn swarming with grooms and riders, nothing but a stall and a conveniently placed, very tall horse blocking anyone else’s view. The next, he’s filled with want and longing as Bucky nips playfully at his neck. And yet the next, the high of his Olympic win is giving way to exhaustion, fatigue falling over him in waves, his back aching. There’s a sharp pain every time he breathes too deeply. He feels like he can barely keep his eyes open, and Bucky feels so solid and warm, his strong hands perhaps the only thing keeping Gale on his feet.

When Gale barely reacts to his teasing words, Bucky pulls away to look at him and tilts his head. The newest Olympic silver medalist blinks tiredly and raises an eyebrow in question. Bucky smiles, reaching a hand up to stroke the sweaty hair back away from Gale’s face. Then he puts his hand on the back of Gale’s head once again and urges him to rest against his shoulder. Gale sighs, letting himself relax, and Bucky feels that heart-stuttering, stomach-fluttering, suspiciously love-like feeling again.

Marge told him, the other day, that Gale has never been good at letting others take care of him. Too stubborn and independent for his own good.

And yet here he is, letting his guard down. Letting Bucky take his weight. Letting Bucky take care of him.

“Let’s get back to the village,” Bucky says, and Gale nods against his shoulder.

Back in Gale’s bedroom, Bucky waits for him to shower. Gale had been right: even not sweaty, breeches seemed like a bitch to get off, and Bucky is kind of glad Gale didn’t let him help with that. He neatly folds the discarded riding clothes, even though he’s sure they’re heading straight for one of the laundry facilities in the Village. Then finding himself with nothing to do but idly scroll his phone, he can’t help but glance around the bare-bones room. It’s just like his own, plain and minimal. But he notices a book on Gale’s bedside table, the corner of a piece of paper sticking out from the middle. After a few moments, curiosity wins out and Bucky grabs the book, flipping it open.

Tucked between well-worn pages, he finds an old, faded photograph, the flimsy corners creased with white from a lifetime of being kept close. In the picture, there’s a young boy with shaggy blonde hair and a bright smile. He’s sitting on top of an unimpressed-looking pony, a blue ribbon hooked to the bridle. A beautiful woman stands beside them, her hand reaching up to press against the boy’s back. She’s laughing, her smile a mirror image of the one Bucky has seen on Gale’s face time and again, a mirror image of this little boy’s. Bucky flips over the picture. There’s four words scrawled across the back in loopy, feminine handwriting: “Find your line. -Mama.”

When he hears the shower stop running, he carefully replaces the picture and the book back on the nightstand. Moments later, Gale walks out of the bathroom, completely naked and rubbing a towel over his hair until he looks like a disheveled hedgehog. Bucky could grab him by the waist, make him drop that towel and put his hands on him instead, but he doesn’t. He just watches as Gale, wincing, leans over to grab some sweatpants from the drawers by his bed.

Bucky frowns as Gale pulls the pants up, letting them rest low on his hips in a way that would make Bucky’s mouth go dry if he weren’t concerned about something else. “Your back okay?”

Gale shrugs and goes about combing his fingers through his hair, trying halfheartedly to tame it.

“Buck.”

“Hurts a bit,” Gale mutters. He takes a deep breath in as he sits down on the edge of the bed, biting back a groan. “...More than a bit.”

Bucky’s frown deepens as he studies Gale closely, watching the way the other man scrunches his nose in discomfort and tries to arch his back forward in a noncommittal stretch. “Alright, lay down.”

Gale furrows his brow, starting to shake his head, but Bucky won’t take no for an answer. He turns and motions to the rest of the bed behind them. “You heard me. On your front.”

Skeptically, Gale does as he’s told, settling on his stomach with his cheek pressed against his pillow. He tenses when he feels Bucky straddling him, knees planted firmly on either side of his waist. Then there’s warm, strong hands on his bare skin, still dotted with drops of water, and he lets himself melt into the mattress.

“Bet these beds aren’t so great for back pain, huh?” Bucky asks as he starts carefully pressing his thumbs into the absurdly tight muscles on either side of Gale’s spine.

“Mmm.” That’s all Gale can manage as he bites his lip, trying to keep from flinching when the pressure hurts so bad and yet feels so good at the same time. He moans quietly when Bucky finds that one specific knot in his mid-back, the one that twinges every single time he takes a deep breath and gets worse when he has to do too much jumping for too many days in a row.

Bucky hones in on that spot, trying to work the tension out in the most amazingly unbearable way, making Gale gasp and clench his teeth. “Told you I’d return the favor,” Bucky says.

Gale tries to nod, but he finds he can’t. He doesn’t say anything, just focuses on the way Bucky’s hands work their way up and down his back, somehow finding every troublesome spot – which is everywhere, really. Gale sometimes jokes that his back is practically made of scar tissue after everything it’s been through, and Bucky isn’t sure he’d disagree. He thought he was tight, but he wonders how Gale even functions in this condition, much less rides horses at peak performance nearly every day. Nearly every muscle from his neck to the base of his spine is laced with tension.

“Horses make you tough,” Gale mumbles, like he can read Bucky’s mind. “Don’t usually notice the pain ‘til I’m home.”

Bucky knows a little something about that. He shifts his attention to the inward curve of Gale’s lower back, where the muscles often take the most daily strain. He works his thumbs up and down, in and out, finding nothing but knots that refuse to let go without a good fight. “Have you been this tight all week?”

Gale shrugs but doesn’t say a word. He’s struggling to keep his eyes open, so he stops trying. Bucky shakes his head. “Coulda said somethin’.” If he’d known, he would’ve done this sooner. Hell, he would’ve done it every night if that’s what Gale needed.

About a minute later, though, he notices that Gale’s breaths have become deeper and more measured, no longer hitching when Bucky hits a new sore spot. Bucky stops massaging, hoping he’s at least made a dent in the tension that Gale has been carting around, and he presses his hands flat against Gale’s back. He leans forward so he can see the other man’s face, and he finds that his eyes are peacefully closed, his lips parted with one hand curled in a fist under his chin. Blonde hair, a little dark and not quite dry, falls messily over his forehead.

A literal fucking angel. That’s what he’d told Curt after he first met Gale on their flight into Paris, but the description has just taken on new meaning. The pure, unfiltered adoration swelling in Bucky’s chest as he watches Gale drift off will be the death of him.

“Buck?” He says softly. “You still with me?” He reaches a hand up and strokes his still-damp hair.

Gale’s eyes flutter open at the warm cadence of Bucky’s voice. Bucky’s hand stills, but Gale tilts his head up, trying vaguely to press into the touch. Bucky obediently resumes petting his hair.

Satisfied, the corner of Gale’s mouth curves up in a small, unguarded smile, but he hides it against his fist.

He’s an Olympian. He’s an Olympic medalist. A beautiful, wonderful, perfectly lovely guy (who Gale is falling a little in love with) is giving him a massage in his bedroom at the Paris Olympics. If he wasn’t so worn out, he’d tell Bucky to pinch him, sure he has to be dreaming. A tired little laugh bubbles out of him before he lets his eyes close again.

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head in amusement and confusion. “What?”

Gale’s answer doesn’t really clear anything up, but it’s the only thing Bucky can get out of him before he’s sound asleep, that precious smile still teasing at his lips.

“I found my line.”

…

Next part

#i'm normal about them i swear #“I found my line” I'm sobbing #Gale deserves the world #clegan olympics au #clegan #masters of the air #mota #john egan #gale cleven #buck x bucky #clegan fic #olympics au #tw: abuse

64 notes · View notes

rillils · 1 year ago

Note

do you ever think abt how we couldve seen more of nomad steve

NOMAD STEVE MY BELOVED

ohhh we were robbed, honey, in so many ways! imagine what we could have had!

- more footage of this man, luscious lovechild of hercules and adonis, most glorious chunk of deliciousness, sexy teddy bear man, the mane of a lion and the eyes of a puppy, mr Dirtied Up Good™, holy shield straps of sex, elected man with the sluttiest forearms of 2018 through 2024

- more of this Steve, who ain't playing dancing monkey for anyone anymore, who ain't asking for permission and/or forgiveness from anybody, who isn't taking anybody's shit, he just wants to fight for what he feels is right and he's not going to apologize for that, thank you very much

- his developing friendship with both Sam and Nat! them fighting like a unit! trusting each other, leaning on each other! learning more about each other! actually getting to know Steve, and his fun side, and his darker side, and his brooding side, and his silly side, and nagging him when they know he needs help but he's just too damn stubborn to ask for it

- FOUND FAMILY FOUND FAMILY FOUND FAMILY

- the three of them trying to comfort each other, each in their own (sometimes clumsy/awkward) way when a mission goes wrong, learning random words from random languages from one another (especially swear words they might have picked up in their respective times abroad lol), watching old sitcoms in their downtime, laughing together, hell even crying together, sharing too little space for too long, complaining about each other's unwashed socks, and still falling asleep on top of each other

- the few times Sam got to call his parents from a safe location. can you imagine Steve talking on the phone with Mrs Wilson? scared at first that she'll tear him a new one for putting her son in so much danger and dragging him away from home? but her knowing all too well that nobody's ever been able to make Sam do something he didn't want to do, that this was his own decision? and she's not actually mad at Steve, she just wants to make sure that "all of you kids are alright"? can you imagine Steve holding back tears the first time he hears a mother's voice talking to him, reminding him to be careful, to stay safe, after so long without it? do you think I'm crying???? I AM

- THE SKYPE CALLS WITH BUCKY

- actually EVERY SINGLE KIND OF INTERACTION WITH BUCKY, even when he's not there. Steve gazing longingly at a picture of Bucky, either physical or digital, that he makes sure to keep on him at all times. taking it out when he's lying awake at night, and everything's quiet except for Sam's snoring and the muffled sounds from the streets, and Steve thinks he saw Nat's eyes watching him in the dimness, but neither of them are going to say anything. he's just sitting in the dark, picture in hand, twirling some secret worry around in his head and missing Bucky so much it hurts. and those times (although he tries to keep these to a minimum) when he just can't help himself: he sneaks out of the room and calls Bucky, just to hear his voice. to listen to Bucky speak softly to him, his voice a little rough from sleep, but always so warm, so sweet for him. and Steve just leans his head back against the wall, and closes his eyes, and imagines he's curled up into Bucky's side, his head resting on Bucky's shoulder, with Bucky's fingers carding through his hair, and it's only then that he finds a little peace again

- all the videocalls with Bucky! the playful banter!! them arguing like an old married couple one moment, and exchanging the most besotted looks the next! Nat and Sam having to put up with all of their old-men-in-love shenanigans, and Steve never hearing the end of it lol

- Steve!! literally bounding out of the quinjet like an excited puppy when they visit his husband Bucky in Wakanda!!! overjoyed and not even bothering to hide it anymore after like the second or third time, 'cause everybody knows by now anyway!!

- all of them actually getting to rest for a while, and Steve enjoying his impromptu honeymoon with Bucky, savoring each day like it's both the first and the last of their life together, love sparkling in his eyes, happier than he's ever been before, finally free, ironically, now that he's an outlaw and a fugitive, and finding utmost delight in that knowledge

WE WERE ROBBED BLIND, HONEY

#stucky just stucky #steve rogers #stucky #nomad steve my bebe #I'M SO BITTER ABOUT THIS BUT WHAT ELESE IS NEW #🎵 WE COULD HAVE HAD IT AAAAAAALL #*sobbing intensifies*

106 notes · View notes

abarbaricyalp · 5 months ago

Text

Bed, Beignets, Birthdays, and Other B Things Sam Wilson Likes

Happy birthday, Cap! 🎉 // AO3 Link 🛏🥐🎂

Sam’s arm fell to the other side of the bed and landed on a warm chest instead of cool sheets. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before turning over and sneaking a glance at the man next to him. Scared, just for a moment, that this might slip away if he actually looked.

Bucky was already awake, but he was still sleep rumpled, impression lines crossing his face and chest, hair a mess. Sam wondered if he could convince him to cut it now. Surely he was more susceptible to the idea when it was all tangled in the morning. Then again, Sam figured if the whole ‘your secret identity will be harder to figure out if you cut off your trademark mane’ hadn’t worked, he didn’t think a few knots would either.

“You stayed,” he yawned and stretched his arms into Bucky’s space.

Bucky’s fingers fell across one of Sam’s hands, traced over the lines of his metacarpals lightly. “It’s your birthday,” he said simply. “Thought I should at least buy you breakfast. Give you a day off.”

Sam smiled at the idea. Not hunting down rogue bases and ghost stories was fine by him. It seemed like a lovely day outside. The seasons were actually turning here and there was a crispness he could feel even without opening the window. It made him press closer to Bucky’s chest, hiding his head under Bucky’s jaw. Bucky’s arms went around him, his left arm slow in caution and also because he was laying on it.

“Maybe I like chasing you down,” Sam suggested.

“You like pastries more,” Bucky pointed out. And that was true. Food in general, but breakfast desserts were a favorite. And they were in Paris of all places. Sam really could not envision a better day.

“You got any other plans for the day?” Sam asked. “Or are you gonna disappear as soon as I turn my back on you outside?”

“I don’t plan on letting you outside,” Bucky admitted. “My plans involved getting you in the shower and then back in this bed. Everything else can be ordered in.”

Sam hummed. That did sound like a really good plan. “Can I open the window?”

“We’re on a fourth floor, so I don’t think that many people will be able to hear you. Go for it.”

Sam lifted his head enough to watch Bucky’s face until it broke into a grin. “Oh, that kind of day in bed, huh?” he asked.

Bucky’s fingers moved up Sam’s back. “That kind of day in bed,” he agreed and turned onto his back, pulling Sam over him as he went. His fingers went back to tracing Sam’s spine and Sam tried not to shiver with it. He didn’t succeed.

“If you were gonna ask for something today, what would it be?” Bucky asked.

Sam raised an eyebrow and took his own turn to brush his fingers over Bucky’s chest–the line of hair traveling down his pecs, a birthmark against his ribs, a scar under his collarbone, which Sam weirdly had a matching one to. They’d both gotten them when they were kids, lifetimes before they knew each other or had any shared life experience. Except, Sam supposed, falling out of a tree and hitting every branch on the way down.

“Use pet names today,” he decided. “Don’t call me Wilson.”

“What about–”

“Sam and all your terrible variations are fine,” Sam added.

Bucky grinned up at him. “Alright, doll,” he agreed. “That one’s easy enough to give you.” He sat up so they were shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest, hip to hip. It made Sam light-headed and he tilted forward to catch Bucky’s mouth on his and also steady himself.

Bucky kissed like he thought it was the last thing he was going to do. Sam refused to consider the legitimacy of that fear. Bucky was intense and excited. Sometimes it felt like running into a brick wall and sometimes he opened up like an endless expanse of soft lips and searching hands. Sometimes the brick wall came down between them, and then tilted forward for extra kisses, with a hand on Sam’s chest, pushing him back.

“Wait, wait,” Bucky panted and then took another three kisses. “Shower first,” he encouraged. “I have a plan for today.”

“What about food?” Sam asked.

Bucky grinned at him and it made Sam’s stomach turn over in the most desirable way. “Well, I’m gonna eat,” he said oh-so innocently. “But I don’t know how long it’s gonna take, so I figured we could order in later.”

Sam was nodding before Bucky even finished talking. “Yeah, alright,” he agreed, pulling Bucky into another kiss.

He was expecting it when Bucky stood and lifted him in the same motion, but it still made him go light headed all over again. He kind of loved it when Bucky did that. It made him feel young and spontaneous and it was so damn hot.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Bucky breathed against Sam’s chest, where he seemed to be trying to kiss his way to Sam’s heart.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed dazedly. “And here’s to many more.”

“Well you’ve still got to get through this one,” Bucky teased.

Sam shivered and curled his arms around the back of Bucky’s neck. He kind of thought this wouldn’t be such a bad way to go. But he was fully planning on doing this again next year.

Read the rest on AO3

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #the falcon and the winter soldier #sambucky fanfic #writing

25 notes · View notes

strange-little-spy · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter Ten – December 24th, 1940

Chapter warnings: domestic pals ~ Fluff ~ BASEBALL ~ plot is finally moving forward

Word count: 1519 words

“James!!” Addie ducked as she felt the cold smack of a snowball fly into her face, the snow falling into her collar, making her squeal. “James Buchanan Barnes, I am going to murder you!”

“Shout it to the world!!” Bucky laughed, ducking behind the frozen fountain in Central Park. It seemed as if everyone and their brother was outside playing in the snow. It was the first time in years that Christmas Eve was a sunny and clear day, granted the lack of the clouds made it stupid cold, but Addie didn’t care. Besides, she was running hot due to the serum and the vengeful wrath that bubbled in her as she balled the snow into a tightly packed weapon.

“Hey-“ Bucky made a face, his face breaking into a playful smile as Addie taunted him, dancing back and forth and she tried to outmaneuver him behind the fountain.

“You mess with the bull, you’re going get the horns, Buck.” She teased darkly, her arm winding back.

“But you’re a nice bull!” He tried to flatter, a laugh in his words as he seemed to snicker at his own joke.

“Oh, it is ON, Barnes!”

Bucky grinned and ducked before making a run for it, but Addie was too quick, her snowball pelting him smack on the back of the head, the snow exploding through his hair as he fell to the ground. If it was an official sport, it would have been the slow-mo of the century.

Addie shouted victoriously, raising her hands in the air as another group of teenagers cheered a few yards away.

“HaHA!” She laughed, jogging over to Bucky who was shaking his head and propped up on his elbow. “Looks like the king of Brooklyn just got his crown popped off.”

“What an arm, doll!” Bucky stood up, still grinning. “Lemme see that again.”

“You want me to smack you upside the head with another snowball??”

“No, no, I mean I wanna see how far you can throw.”

“Oh!” Addie bent over and made another ball, eyeing down the row of trees for a good distance. “Well, how far do you think I can throw?”

“Hooo,” Bucky rubbed the back of his head. “Uh, I can throw around 70 feet so I’ll give you 60.”

“Sixty.” Addie nodded, packing the ball again. Eyeing the distance, she guessed it to be around ninety feet. “Run on down there so I don’t kill anyone, will you?”

“Sure.” He gave her a nudge on her arm and started jogging through the snow toward the target area.

He let out a shrill whistle when he was ready, waving his arm through the sparse crowd.

Addie tossed the ball between her hands twice and reeled back her arm before throwing the snowball over the heads of the crowd.

By now they had gathered a crowd, and with the snowball sailing through the air and OVER Bucky’s head by a solid length and exploding into a tree, knocking the snow off the bark.

“Holy cow!” Bucky turned back and looked to Addie who was staring, awestruck at her actions. “Brooklyn Dodgers here we come!”

“Man, that’s a canon you got there!” One of the boys from the group said as they gathered around her. “How’d you do that??”

“I-“ She certainly couldn’t reveal her secret, per se. HYDRA was a terrible organization and she wasn’t about to advocate for it. “I guess I’m just really good!”

“Whooee!” Bucky came up to her, elbowing his way through the others and offering a high-five. “I swear, if Durocher doesn’t sign you up, the man’s a first-class idiot.”

“You know I can’t play for the Dodgers!” Addie objected, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. “I’m a girl!”

“So? You could play left field!” Another offered,

“I outa teach you to bat.” Bucky nodded, gaining a few comments from the others. Addie knew she was blushing, surrounded by nothing but guys was strange, especially when one of them was none other than Bucky Barnes.

“Nah, I’d rather be chucking grenades at German’s than playing left field.” She shook her head, her mane of hair fluffing.

“That’s my girl.” Bucky winked.

“Wait- you’re dating Bucky??” One of the boys pointed to the future Winter Soldier.

“No, we’re just really close friends. I’m Steve’s girl.” She smiled sweetly.

“What?” The other scoffed. “Steve? Puleeze, that beanstalk? A gal like you can do better than Rogers.”

Addie didn’t let him finish, as the back of her hand raked across the boy’s cheek, a red mark left behind.

Bucky grabbed her arms before she could do anymore damage, but she knew he was fuming as well.

“Got anymore smart remarks?” She demanded, relenting to Bucky’s grasp.

“N-no..” The boy shook his head, the others retreating.

“I wouldn’t antagonize her.” Bucky rumbled, the sparkle in his eyes gone.

“Guys, let-lets go check on the others.” The youngest one said, tugging on the one who spoke’s arm.

“Yeah, yeah.” They retreated entirely, leaving Bucky and Addie alone.

“Dirty idiots.” She spat as Bucky let her go. “I almost wish you hadn’t stopped me.”

“Trust me, doll, I’ve had one too many trips to the jail to know better.” He said, folding his arms across his chest. “We should go home.”

“Agreed.” She sighed, kicking at the lump of snow built up next to her.

As they passed by the window’s of the shop as the sun reached just below the tops of the skyscapers, Addie smiled when she saw the displays. She’d only seen black-and-white pictures of them but now she was really living in the times, she could truly understand what she was missing in a way.

“Aw, they’re so cute!” She pointed to the teddy bears propped into a parade, all dressed up like soldiers. “That one looks like you.”

“What?” Bucky shook his head, peering closer at the one she pointed out. “Please, Adds, this little fella is too handsome. I don’t even compare.”

“My gosh, Bucky. I never took you for modest.” She teased, knowing full well she was about to get a smart remark.

He straightened up and looked at her with that ‘sling back, locked and loaded smart remark incoming’ look. “Oh then you don’t know the true me. I spend hours each morning pruning each and every hair on my head making sure it is perfectly to my liking.” He even topped it off with the nail brush and inspection. “How’s that for modest?”

“I know when I’m beaten.” She raised her hands as they started walking again. “Though I think you missed a spot.”

“Its not my fault that you pelted my poor head with a snowball.”

“Oh, wait, yes it is. I seem to remember snow falling down my collar and freezing me?”

“Oh dear, was that me?”

Addie snorted a laugh when they reached the apartment building.

“Excuse me,” An older man stepped forward before they started up the stairs. “May I ask if you are the young lady that threw that snowball this afternoon at Central Park?”

Addie looked him up and down, feeling Bucky’s hand wrap around her wrist. “Is it important?”

“In a way, yes.”

“Then I suppose so. What’s it to you, can I ask?”

“I am Major Kellings, miss. Infantry branch. I’ve been asked that I contact you and your friend here about a matter that could change the U.S.’s current relationship with the Axis powers.”

“Oh, snap, are they going to use me for Captain America??”She forced herself to keep cool and looked to Bucky who was quite confused.

“Well, that depends. Am I allowed to have more details or is this need-to-know only?”

“Some of is, some of it I can tell you.”

“It can’t wait till tomorrow?” Bucky stepped in.

“I have my orders to make contact as soon as possible.” Kellings informed.

“Its okay, Bucky. I think I might know whats going on.” She turned to the Major. “I’ll come but I want to be able to turn down whatever your people offer me.”

“Of course, miss.” Kellings nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. “Commander Ridenger is more than willing to make a deal.”

“Will you tell Steve?” Addie looked up to Bucky who was frowning at her.

“Are you nuts? I’m going with you!”

“I don’t know how long this will take, Buck. He might freak out if we’re gone too long.”

Bucky frowned again and sighed. “Alright, but you be careful, please.”

“I will,” She smiled. “Alright, Major.”

“I have a car around the corner, miss. It’s a short drive over to headquarters.”

“Okay.” She nodded and followed him to where a long car was waiting, already running. She had yet to have the privilege of riding in these cars, thus she felt a surge of excitement as the major opened the door for her.

She thanked him and slid over the seat, its cover was made of cloth and was warm compared to outside. She wondered how well it handled on the snowy roads.

The driver shifted it into drive before everything froze and vanished.

thank you for reading 🥰✌️

Dividers by @strangergraphics

prompt by @the-superoriginal

written by yours truly, all relation to actual people are purely coincidental

tag list: @oh-to-be-a-murderer - @fictionalmenjusthitdifferent - @itzzkaylaaa - @crazyinlovewithmarvel - @natt-romanoff - @ohyeah-itssamwilson - @proud-owner-0f-americas-ass - @thebestmerc-1 - @daniel-barnes-the-ghost -

if you would like to be tagged in the upcoming chapters, please send me an ask and I will make sure to tag you!

#sandy speaks #shes an artist #writers on tumblr #bucky barnes fluff #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #angst #captain america #marvel au #mcu fanfiction #mcu

7 notes · View notes

powerpolyculeshowdown · 2 years ago

Text

POWER POLYCULE MASTERPOST

people asked and i shall deliver!! here are our brackets - i plan to update each one with the link after they're posted, but do keep an eye on the #powerpolyculeshowdown tag in case im unavailable to do so until later, please!

Also reminder they're programmed to be posted 1min apart from each other, so from 1:00pm to 1:10pm (EST)

Round 1

part 1 (finished)

Tulio/Miguel/Chel (Road to El Dorado) x Yoo/Han/Kim (Omniscient Reader) Winners: Tulio/Miguel/Chel

Mane 6 (My Little Pony) x Sasha/Anne/Marcy (Amphibia) Winners: Sasha/Anne/Marcy

Rey/Finn/Poe (Star Wars) x The Doctor/Rose/Jack Harkness (Doctor Who) Winners: The Doctor/Rose/Jack

Cosmo/Kathy/Don (Singing in the Rain) x Ferris/Sloane/Cameron (Ferris Bueller’s Day Off) Winners: Cosmo/Kathy/Don

Dave/Jade/Karkat (Homestuck) x Sora/Riku/Kairi (Kingdom Hearts) Winners: Sora/Riku/Kairi

Amaryllis/Sir Damien/Lord Arum (Penumbra Podcast) x Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot (High Noon Over Camelot - The Mechanisms) Winners: Amaryllis/Sir Damien/Lord Arum

Wu Zetian/Li Shimin/Gao Yizhi (Iron Widow) x Sadie Kane/Walt Stone/Anubis (The Kane Chronicles) Winners: Wu Zetian/Li Shimin/Gao Yizhi

Star Allies (Kirby Star Allies) x All 1008 Pokémon (Pokémon) Winners: All 1008 Pokémon

Hardison/Parker/Elliot (Leverage) x Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer (The Witcher) Winners: Hardison/Parker/Eliot

Suki/Sokka/Zuko (ATLA) x Sonic/Knuckles/Shadow (Sonic) Winners: Suki/Sokka/Zuko

Sweet/Cap’n/K_K (Deltarune) x Shiver/Frye/Big Man (Splatoon 3) Winners: Sweet/Cap'n/K_K

part 2 (finished)

Fred/Daphne/Velma/Shaggy (Scooby Doo) x Luka/Adrien/Kagami/Marinette (Miraculous Ladybug) Winners: Fred/Daphne/Velma/Shaggy

Wonder Woman/Superman/Batman (DC Comics) x Megaera/Zagreus/Thanatos (Hades) Winners: Megaera/Zagreus/Thanatos

Dekubowl (My Hero Academia) x Jolyne/Ermes/Foo Fighters (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure) Winners: Jolyne/Ermes/Foo Fighters

Bocchi/Nijika/Ryo/Kita (Bocchi the Rock) x Tsukasa/Emu/Nene/Rui (Project Sekai) Winners: Tsukasa/Emu/Nene/Rui

Trevor/Sypha/Alucard/Greta (Castlevania) x Heizou/Kazuha/Scaramouche (Genshin Impact) Winners: Trevor/Sypha/Alucard/Greta

Rachel/Chloe/Max (Life is Strange) x Quanxi/Tsugihagi/Pingtsi/Long/Cosmo (Chainsaw Man) Winners: Rachel/Chloe/Max

McCoy/Spock/Kirk (Star Trek) x Frodo/Sam/Rosie (Lord of the Rings) Winners: McCoy/Spock/Kirk

Cassandra/Rapunzel/Flynn (Tangled Series) x Vivi/Lewis/Arthur (Mystery Skulls Animated) Winners: Cassandra/Rapunzel/Flynn

Aizo/Yujiro/Hiyori (HoneyWorks) x Panchito/Donald/José (The Three Caballeros) Winners: Panchito/Donald/José

Catra/Adora/Glimmer/Bow (She-Ra and The Princesses of Power) x Amethyst/Peridot/Lapis (Steven Universe) Winners: Catra/Adora/Glimmer/Bow

Bucky/Steve/Peggy/Angie (Marvel) x Hunter/Willow/Luz/Amity (The Owl House) Winners: Hunter/Willow/Luz/Amity

Round 2 (finished)

Tulio/Miguel/Chel (Road to El Dorado) x Cosmo/Kathy/Don (Singing in the Rain) Winners: Tulio/Miguel/Chel

Sasha/Anne/Marcy (Amphibia) x Hardison/Parker/Eliot (Leverage) Winners: Hardison/Parker/Eliot

The Doctor/Rose/Jack Harkness (Doctor Who) x McCoy/Spock/Kirk (Star Trek) Winners: The Doctor/Rose/Jack Harkness

Sora/Riku/Kairi (Kingdom Hearts) x Amaryllis/Sir Damien/Lord Arum (Penumbra Podcast) Winners: Amaryllis/Sir Damien/Lord Arum

Wu Zetian/Li Shimin/Gao Yizhi (Iron Widow) x Sweet/Cap’n/K_K (Deltarune) Tie!! Both move on!

Suki/Sokka/Zuko (Avatar: TLA) x Megaera/Zagreus/Thanatos (Hades) Winners: Suki/Sokka/Zuko

Fred/Dephne/Velma/Shaggy (Scooby Doo) x All 1008 Pokémon (Pokémon) Winners: Fred/Daphne/Velma/Shaggy

Jolyne/Ermes/Foo Fighters (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure) x Tsukasa/Emu/Nene/Rui (Project Sekai) Winners: Jolyne/Ermes/Foo Fighters

Trevor/Sypha/Alucard/Greta (Castlevania) x Panchito/Donald/José (The Three Caballeros) Winners: Panchito/Donald/José

Cassandra/Rapunzel/Flynn (Tangled Series) x Rachel/Chloe/Max (Life is Strange) Winners: Cassandra/Rapunzel/Flynn

Catra/Adora/Glimmer/Bow (She-Ra and The Princesses of Power) x Hunter/Willow/Luz/Amity (The Owl House) Winners: Catra/Adora/Glimmer/Bow

Round 3 (finished)

Fred/Daphne/Velma/Shaggy (Scooby Doo) x Cassandra/Rapunzel/Flynn (Tangled the Series) Winners: Fred/Daphne/Velma/Shaggy

The Doctor/Rose/Jack (Doctor Who) x Hardison/Parker/Eliot (Leverage) Winners: Hardison/Parker/Eliot

Catra/Adora/Glimmer/Bow (She Ra) x Suki/Sokka/Zuko (Avatar: TLA) Winners: Suki/Sokka/Zuko

Panchito/Donald/José (The Three Caballeros) x Wu Zetian/Li Shimin/Gao Yizhi (Iron Widow) Winners: Panchito/Donald/José

Sweet/Cap’n/K_K (Deltarune) x Sora/Riku/Kairi (Kingdom Hearts) Winners: Sweet/Cap'n/K_K

Jolyne/Ermes/Foo Fighters (Jojo) x Tulio/Miguel/Cher (Road to El Dorado) Winners: Tulio/Miguel/Cher

Revival

Round 1 (finished)

Poll 1 Winners: The Doctor/Jack/Rose

Poll 2 Winners: Sasha/Anne/Marcy

Poll 3 Winners: Geralt/Yennefer/Jaskier

Poll 4 Winners: Yoo/Han/Kim

Round 2 (finshed)

Yoo Joonghyuk/Han Sooyoung/Kim Dokja (Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint) x The Doctor/Rose Tyler/Jack Harkness (Doctor Who) x Sasha/Anne/Marcy (Amphibia) x Geralt/Yennefer/Jaskier (The Witcher) Winners: Yoo/Han/Kim (ORV) and Doctor/Jack/Rose (DW)

Round 4 - Quarterfinals (finished)

Tulio/Miguel/Cher (Road to El Dorado) x Yoo Jonghyuk/Han Sooyoung/Kim Dokja (Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint) Winners: Yoo Jonghyuk/Han Sooyoung/Kim Dokja

Fred/Daphne/Velma/Shaggy (Scooby Doo) x The Doctor/Rose Tyler/Jack Harkness (Doctor Who) Winners: Fred/Daphne/Velma/Shaggy

Sweet/Cap'n/Cakes (Deltarune) x Panchito/Donald/José (Three Caballeros) Winners: Sweet/Cap'n/K_K

Hardison/Parker/Eliot (Leverage) x Suki/Sokka/Zuko (Avatar) Winners: Hardison/Parker/Eliot

Round 5 - Semifinals (finished)

Sweet/Cap'n/K_K (Deltarune) x Yoo Jonghyuk/Han Sooyoung/Kim Dokja (Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint) Winners: Yoo/Han/Kim

Hardison/Parker/Eliot (Leverage) x Fred/Daphne/Velma/Shaggy (Scooby Doo) Winners: Hardison/Parker/Eliot

Round 6 (March 8th 2pm EST)

Finals!

Hardison/Parker/Eliot (Leverage) x Yoo Jonghyuk/Han Sooyoung/Kim Dokja (Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint) Winners: Hardison/Parker/Eliot

Third place!

Sweet/Cap'n/K_K (Deltarune) x Fred/Daphne/Velma/Shaggy (Scooby Doo) Winners: Fred/Daphne/Velma/Shaggy

Congratulations Hardison/Parker/Eliot for the win!!!!

#powerpolyculeshowdown #masterpost #polls #brackets

222 notes · View notes

peteyprecious616 · 1 year ago

Text

Then there were two

Cowboy!Bucky x reader

A/N: just another cowboy Bucky blurb I had. Pretty short and not proof read but I thought this was a cute little look at Cowboy Bucky's family and their shenanigans (just fluff basically)

Links to my other cowboy blurbs that go along with this: Darlin' and Smooth Criminal

“Darlin, We don’t need another horse,” He reasoned with you. But as his daughter stood behind your leg, peeking her head around to show her tears. It made him freeze.

He built a wooden horse for her when she was young, she barely left it. As he came home from patrolling the land, he would see her through the old screen door, rocking back and forth with laughter as she watched you make dinner. She was in love with horses.

Becca always joined you and Bucky in the morning for daily chores. She would wake up smiling, reaching for you as you carried her to feed the horse before Bucky went to work.

She sent her dad off every morning on his horse. You always carefully lifted her into Bucky’s arms, letting her sit on the saddle as she loved to run her tiny fingers through the horse’s mane. The horse would snort and sigh as she giggled. You would have to pry her off as you watched Bucky go off into town, her face molded into a frown, as you held her hand walking her back inside before starting the chores. It was a routine that became sacred to her.

She worried about the horse, always asking Bucky, half asleep, waiting up for him to get home from work, wanting to walk out to the stables to pet it, and give it a snack for all its hard work.

So when you casually mentioned to Bucky that you heard from Wanda, your neighbor, had to give up her horse, your daughter almost broke the windows from her squeals of joy.

“Mama, please, please please! Winter needs a friend, he gets cold out there all alone.” She sniffled. Wanda snickered at how your daughter knew how to negotiate, your stern face turned scared at the flick of a switch. You just couldn’t say no to her.

You knew Bucky couldn’t either.

“Buck, come on, we’ve been talking about this on and off for a while now.” You prodded, almost pleaded. You look at Bucky’s steely face, he can’t hold it for long as his eyes meet Becca’s face. Her cheeks reddened by her tears, it wasn’t long before he rubbed his forehead with his calloused hand. He knew he was beat.

“Please dad?” Becca walked over slowly to her father, wrapping her arms around his leg, looking up at him with a small little smile.

You hide the giggle in your throat but smile as you walk towards the struggling man, wrapping your arms around his waist, kissing his cheek, whispering to his skin, “please buck.”

You ended up with three horses by the end of summer, a new wooden one, Winter and now Summer, which Bucky let you and Becca name before training it to be brought to work.

Winter didn’t like the competition, but enjoyed the extra apple you packed for him as they left for work each morning.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #bucky barnes drabble #<3 #cowboy!bucky #cowboy!bucky x reader

119 notes · View notes

radio-ghost-cooks · 2 months ago

Text

hey i'm working on making some shipwrecked ocs who should i work on first

for some bg for each of them:

Marley is a wolf NPC who gained sentience after free-wandering into a Shipwrecked run. he's the only reason Rex's Starling is as white as it is because he'll risk life and limb to give that rabbit a scrub. he's kind of the Starlings' one man cleanup crew. in HI-09 he'd stick around in the basement, having gotten attatched to Blot/Rex.

Joey was a reoccurring character in early Blot animations, usually posing as a gruff yet kind figure, akin to Spike in Tom and Jerry. his first appearance was as a butcher in a cartoon where Blot got mistaken for a cook in a restaurant and had to figure things out as he went.

Rocco is a raccoon. he's my punching bag. he meets Bucky and is like "you too?"

#ocs #poll #oc polls #shipwrecked 64

6 notes · View notes

marvelouslycaptivating · 1 year ago

Text

A Swarm of Butterflies

Masterlist

Part 8: The Mission

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: The team goes on their urgent mission and Steve uncovers some unnerving information.

Authors Note: Wow. It’s been awhile. I’m so sorry to leave you all hanging for so long. I have been dealing with all kinds of real life things. I’ve lacked inspiration, and honestly almost gave up writing altogether. Those of you that have hung around…thank you so much. It’s you who’ve inspired me to continue. Just a few parts left in this series!! My other stories will also be getting finished up as soon as possible!!

Click the masterlist link above to read other parts! I’m no longer doing a tag list as it’s hard for me to keep up with. If you’d like to know when a new part is released turn on those notifications!! I love you all dearly.

Steve walked out of your apartment building with a broad smile on his face. His heart felt as though it were about to take flight. He couldn't recall a moment in his life that he'd felt happier.

He unlocked his car and quickly opened the door, tossing his duffle bag on the passenger seat. He slid into the driver's seat and put the key into the ignition, turning it to bring the old car to life.

He took a deep breath in and looked up through the dew-covered windshield. The sun was painting the sky with the vibrant shades of pink, much like the sunrise the two of you had shared the morning you met. He couldn't stop thinking about taking you on a date after that morning, and now he couldn't stop thinking about watching every sunrise for the rest of his life with you.

He reluctantly tore his eyes away from the artistry before him and threw the car in reverse.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

About fifteen minutes later he pulled the car into his designated parking space at the compound and killed the engine. He quickly got out and grabbed his bag, slinging it over his muscular shoulder. He walked across the damp pavement and yanked the door open.

As soon as he stepped inside, he was met by the teams new secretary, Maggie. She was a young intern Tony had hired to help with administrative work. She was studying microbiology. She was always on time, professional, and a huge help to the team.

She had deep expresso eyes and a mane of spiraling curls.

"Morning Maggie." Steve offered her a smile.

"Morning Captain Rogers. Tony asked me to bring you straight to the hangar," She explained, extending a manilla file to him. He took in her perfectly manicured nails. They dark fuchsia shade popped against her skin. He wondered if the color would look good on y/n.

He took the file from her with furrowed brows. He flipped it open in his large hands.

"Straight to the hangar, huh? Must be important." He mused.

"Yes sir, I believe it's Hydra related." She replied, her heels clacking loudly across the marble floor as they walked.

His heart dropped as soon as she said Hydra. He looked down at the folder as he walked, quickly scanning over the mission brief.

A potential Hydra base near a village in the mountains. Villagers have been reported mysteriously missing for months. An informant believes that they are being abducted for experiments.

His palms began to sweat, and his heart rate increased immediately. A feeling of dread pooled in his stomach. He picked up his pace and Maggie struggled behind him to keep up with his inhuman strides.

"I've got it from here Maggie. Thank you!" he called over his shoulder, causing the young interns steps to falter and then retreat back down the hallway.

He reached the hangar in record time. Everyone else was already suited up and arming themselves. Natasha shot him a tight lipped smile. Tony wore a look of concern, and Bucky looked as uncomfortable as he was sure he did.

"Morning sunshine." Nat sing-songed in an attempt to ease his mood.

He tried to force a smile, but he couldn't hide the tension in his shoulders.

"Morning," he clipped, "We ready?" he asked.

"Waiting on you, Loverboy." Tony teased, tapping the front of his armor.

Steve sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. Bucky slapped a comforting hand on his shoulder signaling that he wasn't alone in how he was feeling.

"Right. Let me suit up then." he muttered robotically as he turned and headed towards the locker room.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Three hours later he was standing at the front of the Quinjet in his suit. His shield gleamed on his back and his gloved hands were in tight fists at his sides. Tony stood beside him explaining everyone's roles.

"Nat you find the control room. Hack into the system and download any files and information you can find on this hard drive. It will automatically upload your findings to Friday." Tony explained, handing the spy a small, metal drive.

"Barnes you and Rogers will go in first. You'll start clearing out any goons and then try to find the villagers that are being held hostage. Get them out and to safety. Sam you'll be our eye in the sky. We need to be prepared if they send for back up."

Steve stared ahead. His mind on a pretty girl back at home. He'd never been so distracted on a mission.

Tony glanced at him before continuing, "I'll go find the center of the base and I'll be placing explosives. After they're set, we'll only have about fifteen minutes before the go off. The blast will be large enough to bring the entire base down, so we need to be quick in and out."

Bucky offered a nod in understanding, Natasha blurted a quick "yes sir", and Sam just started moving. Steve stayed rooted in place his mind still adrift.

"Cap." Tony called, "Cap!"

Steve offered no response. Still staring into the abyss.

Tony's concern only grew as he took in his friends rigid stance.

"Steve." Tony laid a gentle hand on the super soldier's shoulder.

Finally, Steves eyes snapped over to Tony. His brows furrowed and his plump lips pulled into a frown.

"What is going on with you? You never zone out like that." Tony inquired, voice calm.

Steve released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He shook his head and looked down at his combat boots. Shame colored his features. He was normally a strong leader, but this mission felt different. He couldn't place why, but he was on edge.

"I don't know Tony. Normally I feel confident going into a mission, but ever sense I read that file this morning I've just felt this anxiety that I can't seem to shake." He confessed.

Tony nodded slowly, trying to understand.

"Look, I know Hydra puts you and Barnes on edge, but hundreds of people have gone missing, and they need our help. I wouldn't have called you in on your weekend off if I didn't need you." Tony explained.

Steve sighed. "I know."

"Alright, let's think of something positive to help get your mind off things. Tell me something good Rogers." Tony began to walk toward the back of the Jet. His armor whirring with every step.

Steve smiled for the first time since he'd arrived at the compound. His ocean eyes crinkling at the corners.

"She told me she loved me this morning." Steve confessed, heart fluttering once again.

Tony chuckled as he adjusted his armor.

"Finally," he exclaimed, "If I had to watch you guys give each other puppy eyes for another movie night I think I would've exploded." He joked.

Steve let out a laugh, reaching down to fiddle with the collar of his suit.

“It was different Ton.” Steve tried to explain, his voice shyly dropping an octave.

Tony turned eyes trained on his friend. Steve, the most level headed man he knew, wore a besotted smile. A glow emanated from him, and for the first time since Tony had met him…he looked at peace. He looked happy, and Tony’s heart felt warm.

“She isn’t just another girl. She’s everything, Tony.” He confided, “My heart couldn’t beat without her. She is everything I have searched for all these years. She is the other half of me that I thought was lost in that ice all those years ago.” Steve’s voice was thick with emotion, and his strong hands trembled slightly.

“I have to get home to her. For the first time in a long time home doesn’t feel far away.” His eyes finally rose to meet Tony’s, and tears brimmed his lower lash line.

Tony smiled a genuine, heartfelt smile as he strolled over.

“Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure you make it back, I swear it.” Tony promised, his hand squeezing Steve’s shoulder.

Steve offered him a smile and discreetly wiped at his eyes as Tony turned and called out to the rest of the team.

“Approaching our target in ten. Let’s do this!” He closed his helmet as he readied for the danger ahead.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As soon as the team entered the facility things went sideways. Hundreds of Hydra soldiers poured in from every angle, effectively trapping them at the entrance. They spent what felt like ages trying to take them down.

By the time every soldier had been eliminated they were all breathless and filthy. Natasha had a slight limp, Steve's lip was split, and Tony's armor was covered in dents.

"Alright." Tony breathed, hands on his hips. "Lets get this done. Stick to the plan. If you run into trouble ask for help over the comms." He ordered, taking off down a dimly lit path Friday suggested would take him to the center of the base.

Steve looked over at Natasha. The redhead was in pain, although she'd never admit it.

"I'm gonna go with Nat. You got this Buck?" Steve asked, eyes swinging over to his childhood friend.

Bucky nodded confidently reloading the gun in his hands.

"I don't need you to babysit me, Cap." Natasha sassed, brushing dirt from her uniform.

"Course not." he smiled, turning to take off down the hallway opposite of the direction Tony had gone.

He moved briskly down the abandoned corridor. The lights flickered eerily overhead, and he felt goosebumps explode over his arms. His stomach churned; something didn't feel right.

They swept a dozen empty rooms before finding the control room. Natasha hobbled over to the computers. She hacked into the system as quickly as her shaking hands would allow as Steve stood watch at the door.

He took a few deep breaths in a feeble attempt to calm his racing heart. His mind wondering to the girl he’d left behind at home. What were you doing right now? Were you finishing the book you’d started last week? Were you cuddled up on the couch in your pajamas watching the movies you were supposed to watch together this weekend? Did you miss him as much as he missed you?

He pictured your breathtaking smile as you gazed up at him before he left the apartment. He remembered the way his heart felt as though it were going to burst. He couldn’t wait to make it home to you.

He was suddenly snapped from his thoughts when Natasha spoke.

“Cap, get over here.” Her voice was laced with urgency.

Steve pushed himself away from the cold concrete wall behind him and strolled over to the spy. His boots made heavy thuds in the tile floor.

“Hydra has been running tests on locals just like we thought, but their experiments are failing. Every person they’ve used in their trials have died.” She explained, her eyes cold.

Steve sucked in a breath and ran a hand over his face. This was not what he wanted to hear.

“They can’t seem to get their super soldier serum right.” She explained further.

He eyes the words in the screen. They were all in Russian. He couldn’t read them. He knew Nat was sparing him all the gruesome details.

Suddenly she reached out and grabbed his forearm softly. Her eyes bore into his own. The look on her face made his heart speed up.

“Hydra has a plan to kidnap Y/N.” She stated calmly.

His heart stopped inside his chest. His lungs constricted and all of a sudden he couldn’t breathe. Had he heard her correctly?

“What?” He croaked out breathlessly.

“They plan to abduct her. They know that you’ll turn yourself in to free her.”

His large hands began to tremble. He could feel sweat beading in his furrowed brows.

His girl was in danger. The love of his life was in serious danger…because of him.

“No.” He whispered, his throat betraying him. He began to shake his head rapidly. His mind was spiraling out of control.

He began to pace the floor. His hands reaching up to tug at the golden strands of hair on his head.

If Hydra got ahold of Y/N there’s no telling what they’d do. He couldn’t stomach the thought.

His mind raced as alarm bells blared in his head. His blood ran cold.

This was a set up. This mission was a decoy. Hydra knew that the Avengers would show up if they suspected that civilians needed rescuing, but there was no one left to rescue.

That was why there were soldiers upon entry, but no back up had been called. No alarms went off. They practically waltzed right in and got into their database easily.

They were distracting them so that they could abduct Y/N.

His pacing immediately ceased.

“Damn it!” He bellowed, his fist colliding with the wall. Little pieces of concrete rained to the floor.

“This was a set up!” He turned toward Nat, chest heaving. “We’ve gotta get back. They’re going after her now.” He seethed.

Nats mouth opened and closed rapidly, but no words escaped. She turned and yanked the hard drive from the computer before effectively typing in a code to destroy the system.

“Let’s go!” She demanded as she strolled across the room.

She pressed her delicate fingers to the piece of equipment in her ear.

“Back to the jet, now. We’ve gotta get back.” She barked the command as she led Steve back the way they came.

“What?” Bucky questioned a minute later. “I haven’t found the hostages yet.”

Steve sighed and reached up to his own ear piece.

“There aren’t any. They’re all dead. This was a set up.” He stated flatly.

Nat spared him a concerned glance. His shoulders were rigid. His lips pressed into a thin line.

“What? What are you talking about?” Tony demanded, sounding out of breath.

Steve’s hands clenched into fists at his side.

“Hydra sent us here as a diversion. They’re going to abduct Y/N.” Natasha explained as Steve’s fist flew into another wall.

29 notes · View notes