#but Natasha was never frozen like Bucky was- so despite having been born around the same time

[daydreamerdrew]

New Avengers: The Reunion (2009) #1

[idga-buck]

Some and Others, 1/?

Bucky wasn’t looking for a relationship, he was looking for a good night’s sleep, but when he found you he got more than he bargained for.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 5,758

Content: swearing, soft smut (18+ only), Bucky being clueless, IW and EG just didn’t happen? idk, everyone’s alive and living in the compound #classic, also me fitting in a bunch of information that probably wasn’t necessary for the first chapter but what’s a story without a sturdy foundation?

After a mission, Bucky is some kind of way. Steve is too careful with him, but he doesn’t exactly blame the captain. Plus as an uncommissioned officer, 70 years without promotion, who is he to disagree. Maybe he isn’t ready for a life of avenging. Certainly isn’t ready for the questions that will follow another sleepless night, so Bucky didn’t stay in. He went out.

His memory wasn’t what it used to be, but Bucky recognized your street the second he’d stepped onto it. He’d parked his bike in the grassy alley on his right, gotten coffee at the Caribbean supermarket across the street when he finally left that afternoon. Technology wasn’t his strong suit, despite his depth of interest in it. There was etiquette and a way to do things that were as nuanced as they were mysterious. Bucky often wondered if people just lived by their own set of rules, leaving everyone else in the dark and only interacting with the persistent few who engaged correctly. He didn’t have the patience for that sort of thing. Shuri reminded him of that more than he cared for, but in terms of debts owed, he could smile through her jokes for a lifetime after the second chance she’d given him.

Bucky Barnes was a ladies man… at some point in his life, but more accurately, his life had been colored with women stronger than him since the day he was born. His mother was the first to hold him, followed shortly after by the older sister who tried to sell him to the milkman. Luckily Mr. Spenser wasn't in the market for a throw away babe and Bucky got to grow up in a house dominated by women. His sister, his mother, his grandmother with the accent that was just gibberish outside of their living room, the two more sisters that were welcomed in after him, though he’d never dream of bartering them away for bubble gum. They were all loud, but kind and could always bring a smile to his face. Even still. Rebecca, the most distant in age, but the closest in spirit, was still living. His baby sister was all grown up to the point of growing back down, shrinking in on herself the way old women do. Bucky made regular trips to the Alzheimer’s care center, sitting with her and loving her as only a brother could. Though her recollection of recent history was gone, Rebecca Barnes could still pinpoint the exact moment that all her girlfriends fell in love with her brother, which made Bucky shake his head and laugh. Her CNAs were worried for her mind when Rebecca introduced them to her big brother, looking closer to a man in his 30s than a man from the 30s, but he assured them that she was correct. He hadn’t changed a bit, she told him with two wrinkled hands on his cheeks. In appearance, not as much as he should have, but in all the other ways people usually mean, Bucky couldn’t feel more disconnected from the man he was when Rebecca was all bright eyes and secret kisses under the corner store awning. Bucky had no problem leveling those boys with a stare back then, but now most of them wouldn’t think twice before using their canes as a switch across his shins just for cocking an eyebrow in their direction. Talking to his mother wasn’t possible anymore and his sister wasn’t in a state to give out girl advice. Shuri was on another continent. Natasha… was Natasha and he would never ask for her help with something like this. Wanda was usually awake late at night when he was, but she was still so young.

Bucky looked up from the street, noting your second floor windows were dimly lit. Golden squares stood out against the bricks, blackened by the late hour, and through the gauzy curtains he spotted movement. Without his mother to advise against it or Shuri to give him something better to do, Bucky reached for his phone and scrolled through the recent calls. You’d called yourself before he left, but thinking that he wouldn’t see you again, Bucky hadn’t actually saved the number. Something of a bad habit, he noted, scrolling through lines and lines of unrecognized and unsaved phone numbers, hoping he’d just know it when he saw it. He didn’t.

Until one appeared on its own, presenting him a choice. Answer or reject. A simple question with unknown consequences. Rejecting the call seemed safer, so Bucky pressed the red circle and resumed his search.

“Weren’t you a spy or something?” Your voice drew Bucky’s eyes up from his phone screen to the now open window above his head. You were leaning out a bit, the posture helping your voice to carry over the surprisingly still busy street.

“Somethin’,” he grinned, pocketing the useless device. Both hands secured in his jacket, Bucky tipped back on his heels to get a better look at you. “Gonna invite me up?”

You shrugged and planted your palms against the window sill to lift yourself up. Even from that angle, Bucky was transfixed by your cleavage. Subtle under the tank top you wore, but he remembered it fondly. As if you could hear his thoughts, your arms snapped closed over your chest, bringing the colorful wings of a kimono with them, shielding yourself with floral patterns and defensive body language that made him take a step backwards. “You didn’t call…” you said and though accurate, your accusation made Bucky regret what he was about to do. After waking from the best night’s sleep of his life, he said he’d call you. No amount of self love could bring that much refreshment into his life and the feeling of waking up after a deep and dreamless sleep was enticing enough. The sex was good for a one off sort of thing, Bucky would even say great, but the sleep that came after… he hadn’t been able to replicate it yet. The lure of a good night's sleep and the softness of your body against all of his rough edges were too strong to stop him now. He was committed to this indiscretion, but before he could defend himself, you’d moved on, already smiling again. “And you just ignored my call.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed and lifted in quick succession before he pulled the phone from his pocket again. Saved. And for good measure, he pulled it up to his ear again. You frowned, turning away from the window, presumably to look for your phone. The glass slid shut behind you and Bucky bounced on the balls of his feet while he waited for the metallic purr in his ear to be replaced by something even better.

“What are you doing?” You said over the line.

“Hey, it’s Bucky-“ he heard you stifle your own laughter with a choked ‘oh my god’ in the background. “Remember me?” You hummed and Bucky waited with his eyes on your window. When you didn’t return, he kept talking. “I know it’s late, but I was just in the neighborhood-“ another quiet giggle made him smile as he spoke. “You up?”

“Is this Bucky Barnes’ first booty call?” You asked.

“I guess it is…” he said, half his mouth curving up even though you couldn’t see it. “How’m I doin’ so far?” There was a pause and Bucky started moving toward your door on instinct. It was illogical to think something had happened in those few seconds, but after the day he’d had Bucky didn’t feel confident ruling it out. “Making me nervous out here, doll.”

“You’re doing just fine,” you assured him and Bucky leaned back against the door in relief. “I was about to go to bed… but since you came all this way-“ the end of your sentence was cut off by the loud buzzing in his ear as the lock on the door disengaged from above. Bucky stepped into the first hall, street lamp making the small row of Golden mailbox fronts glitter, and leisurely took the first few steps up. “Better hurry,” you sighed and Bucky stopped, foot hovering over the next step. “Door’s unlocked and I’m already naked.” Bucky was in your apartment and snapping all three locks into their closed position before you’d had the chance to hang up from his impromptu phone call.

You fucked him slowly that night. The rush he felt taking your stairs two at a time dissipated once he was in your bedroom. It wasn’t as frantic or fumbling as it had been the first time and Bucky was happy for the change. When he’d followed you home from the bar, it seemed that both of you had an understanding. One night only, so make it count. It was hard and fast, but so so good. Even the next morning’s repeat and the finale in your shower before he finally pulled away sated had been more like back to back sprints than whatever this gentle marathon was. As if you could feel the stress that Bucky needed to let go of, you moved carefully around him. Totally bare in the bluish glow of the bathroom plug in that lit the scene before him, you took your time undressing Bucky and placing his hands back at his sides whenever he tried to help move things along. When you dropped to your knees, leaving him open and vulnerable standing naked in the middle of your bedroom, he made a sort of wounded noise that made him want to bolt, but didn’t seem to bother you. If anything it spurred you on, drawing more whispers from his rosebud lips until he couldn’t take it anymore. For the first time in his life, Bucky begged for more attention. Not the teasing he did on street corners- come on, baby, you’re breaking my heart here- when a dame tried extra hard to resist his charm. This was real pleading as if he thought he’d die frozen in place without your heat to revive him.

He’d made the right choice. Bucky decided while lying across your bed, one hand twisted up in your pillow case while the other was splayed across your bare thigh, that he’d done the right thing coming to you for this. He could have gone back to that bar or a different one and gone home with another girl just like he had with you, but then he’d be missing the view from under you. Having a new girl everytime Bucky found himself feeling restless sounded exhausting. He’d also determined that his mother would be incredibly disappointed in him if he had rows and rows of unsaved phone numbers from girls that didn’t know they were being used. Finally and maybe most importantly in that moment, Bucky didn’t want to start over with someone brand new. He liked your crumpled linen sheets, liked the smell of ink from the printing studio beneath your apartment. While you rode him to mutual satisfaction, he liked the way your hips rolled sensually over his, liked the slick grind and the dull bite of your nails against his stomach. He liked that after your first, when he asked you to slow down again and extended his hands to you, you took each of them without hesitation. Supporting your weight on outstretched arms, Bucky got to enjoy your hands in his while you gasped out a second. If it had been your first time sleeping together, you’d probably be too prideful or embarrassed to admit that you were tired. He wouldn’t have gotten to hear that whine when you asked if he was close and he replied -smugly- not at all. If it had been your first time together, he’d probably be too prideful or embarrassed to ask you how you wanted him. He wouldn’t know how sweet it felt to have your back pressed up against his chest and he wouldn’t have known to turn you onto your side so he could slip in from behind you. Bucky was so comfortable in your bed with your knee hitched up over his hip, body totally open to his roaming hands. He made the right choice coming back to you and as he finished with a grunt, both arms wrapped around you tight while your arm was bent over his head, gripping his hair with the perfect amount of tension, he’d already decided to make it again.

The next morning, Bucky was refreshed, feeling like a brand new man. That was the feeling he’d been chasing last night or rather very early that morning, but the tightening in his lower body followed by ultimate release was a fine way to get there. Just like last time, he’d woken up alone only to find you in the bathroom, washing sleep from your eyes and fixing your face. His enhanced hearing meant he could listen to the tap running and the echoing “puh” of you spitting into the sink without having to open his eyes. Comfortable and naked against your pillows letting the familiar sounds tell the story of your morning routine. He didn’t mind waiting as long as you crawled back in beside him like last time. Bucky only peeked twice before he heard the zipper of your makeup bag close and the magnet on your medicine cabinet snap shut behind the mirror. You were back with him in a moment and he turned toward your scent, aloe fresh deodorant and sharp minty breath beckoned him closer and he hummed against your lips. If he cared to move, he’d swallow down the remainder of your mouthwash then swap cool kisses until his tongue tingled against yours, but he was so comfortable. Even more so once you’d laid across his chest, bumping your nose and chin against his until he opened his eyes. Bucky dropped his arms heavily across your back, keeping you planted against him, though you hadn’t struggled or made any moves to leave him. He couldn’t have that with someone new. If he swapped your number for someone else’s, he’d have to flirt and wade through the post sex awkwardness again. He’d have to go out more and hope his charm would work on another. He’d have to perform for them the way he had for you the first two times. The third, in your shower, was messy and wet and fun despite the soap in his eyes, which you wiped away for him while his hands were occupied by holding you up. He wouldn’t have that with someone new until he made it happen and frankly he didn’t want to make it happen. Not yet. Not when you were still cute and still into him and still happy to hear from him even at 2 in the morning when he looked like a creep under your window. Why trade all that just to say he could have another then another? Sex was good. That morning stuff was good too. If it was the orgasm that made him feel alive again, then the warmth of your bed and your lips drifting lazily down his chest was what made life worth living. One gal was enough for him. You were enough.

Bucky hadn’t even noticed that he was drifting off again until you spoke. He didn’t hear you, but he sure it didn’t matter and responded with some ta sentiment of his own. “Thanks. For this.”

“Thank you,” you corrected and he smirked at that, eyes still blissfully closed. “Hey, uh— Bucky…” You sounded nervous and he had to force his eyes open at the sound of your voice shaking around his name. You must have noticed his sudden concern and placed a hand soothingly over his chest. “I just…” you bit your lip and Bucky watched the wheels churn behind downturned eyes. It was sweet, the way you could flip from bold and sexy to this. An errant curl fell out of its place and he felt the desire to pull that twisty rebel between two fingers before moving it back to follow the part you’d intended all the up to his second knuckle. Your hair was the kind he wanted to touch over and over. Not because it was your hair per se, but rather because it didn't have that acrid home perm smell or a hundred little pins holding it in place like his sisters and the other girls he ran around with. They spent hours on their waves and rolls, but you flipped a fist full to one side, fluffing it with your fingers when you wanted his attention and damn if it didn’t work everytime. Before he knew it, a vibranium finger against your temple, following the curve of your ear. Your stunned look made Bucky chuckle. He even patted your cheek in encouragement. After a beat, you were gathered again. Another breath and you spoke. “I just wanted to say, I don’t really do this sort of thing.” His eyebrow shot up at that and you scrambled to correct yourself. “Not this,” you half laughed then gestured to his naked body and yours, hardly clothed. “The bringing strangers home from bars thing. I definitely wasn’t expecting to see you again- not that I didn’t love it- I just didn’t want you to think-“

“I think you’re amazing,” he said quickly to assure you he didn’t think anything else. He wouldn’t either. Couldn’t even imagine anything else after making an ass of himself at your first meeting. He’s felt so out of place and vulnerable and ridiculous trying to take you home the night you’d met, but you hadn’t made him feel wrong or silly for it. For that alone he was grateful. For the sex that followed, even more so. You’d met him with just enough teasing to keep him engaged, but not so much that he felt like he was an unwanted addition to your night and whenever his eyes drifted away like he wanted to run and forget the whole stupid idea, you gently guided him back, eyes and words making it clear that you wanted him too. It was a mutual feeling of desire, as simple as it was complicated. Bucky wanted to keep it simple though, if for no other reason than to keep seeing your awkward smile duck into his neck at the eagerness in his voice. He touched your face again and repeated himself. “I don’t think anything… just that I’m glad I met you… and I’d like to keep seeing you.”

You smiled at him and whatever silliness he felt in his confession evaporated. It was the right thing to say. You sighed and leaned in again like you were going to kiss him, before stopping short and looking up at him through your lashes. “I don’t think I can say no to you.”

“Then don’t,” he said, but it felt like begging again as he hoisted you higher up on his chest to kiss you again. The conversation was over and if you weren’t going to say no to him, then he wanted to start his morning with as many breathy yeses as he could get.

Random serendipitous encounters became less random and serendipitous with every passing week. Bucky was feeling lighter, yet somehow more whole. Boy, did he need that. A woman’s lovin’ will do that for you. He vaguely recalls one soldier or another making similar remarks while he was in Italy. Bucky’s blue eyes belonged to the nurses back then, as his own innocence slowly died with each body dropped by his own marksmanship. This new world, new century he now had to navigate was so different. His enemies weren’t always flesh and blood, even the ones that did bleed bled out in black and blue not Nazi red. Aliens, other worldsmen, some very human psychos with eerily familiar ideologies about who was of value and who was not. Bucky fought next to his friend, spilling blood of all colors when necessary, bearing the stains that Captain America couldn’t as a paragon of justice and honor. Then when the ringing in his ears got too loud, he sought you out. Over and over again. He never showed up unannounced and you always answered his call, even when you shouldn’t. You truly didn’t know how to say no to him and he truly didn’t want you to.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Bucky knew it wasn’t love, but he didn’t care. It felt good and it felt right and against his better judgment it helped him sleep at night, knowing you were only a half turn away, hugging your pillow, but content to wrap your arms around him instead as long as he asked. And he asked. When he wasn’t in your bed, it helped him stay sane, knowing that someone in the world was waiting on him, caring from a distance, maybe praying for his return. In the Big War, his mother prayed for him. His sisters too. In these mini wars, fought stealthily around the globe, he had you.

Rebecca was still blessedly alive, but his baby sister only remembered him when she saw his face. He would bet that you remembered him even as he schlepped through the mountains of Siberia for the last time. Always Siberia. Evil men must be allergic to sunlight. Sam had jokingly asked him why he always went back and Bucky had jokingly thrown the Falcon’s coffee away, leaving Sam’s hand empty and his mouth full of indignant teeth sucking. That briefing was blessedly brief and Sam didn’t need the rest of his coffee anyways. The flight via jet was longer, but not as horrible as it could have been. Steve’s sympathetic glances were unbearable. It’s the last time, Buck. Yeah, OK. The mission was a success, if you could call it a mission. Sam spun magnificently through the mouth of a cave while Bucky fired back into it, detonating the whole mountainside and leaving this particular Cold War remnant under an avalanche of snow and well kept secrets, never to be reborn. Steve dealt with the press. He had the face for it. Reputation too. Sam soaked up the due praise that came along with it, the next Captain America with his wings and his wit to carry avenging into the 21st century. Bucky, however, peeled off his heavily armed get up and peeled out of the compound without any formal announcement.

When Bucky left for long periods, most assumed he was doing what Steve Rogers would do. Ride around in his bike, traipse through the old neighborhood noting how much it changed. Captain America was the old man, the icon. He had the luxury of wandering. Bucky hadn’t gone anywhere without a mission in mind since the 40’s. He was a soldier, a weapon and while his mind could no longer be weaponized against him, Bucky was still the guy taking care of things that just wouldn’t wash out of Captain America’s shiny cowl. So when he left the compound, no one asked questions. At least not directly to him, something he was thankful for on the hour or so ride to your place. The Bronx apartment was considerably closer than a nostalgic walk through Brooklyn and he got a lot more out of it. He had no mission in Brooklyn, but you were waiting for him and that was enough.

This particular mission was no different. Steve asked him to stay on site and he declined politely as he could without actually stopping to talk to his friend. Natasha called out his hurried steps and followed him halfway to the garage before giving up at his request. It was glaringly obvious to Bucky how they got along so well. Steve and Natasha were quite the pair. Tenacious friends, like the kind of friends that never give up and definitely won’t let you give up on yourself. He saw it in her fierce allegiance and protectiveness over Clint. Now that Steve was huge and well connected in the Avenging community, Bucky supposed that made him the Barton to Steve’s Romanoff. They were insufferable do gooders too. Sure, Natasha had her fair share of red in her ledger, but once she was with the good guys, she was the best of them. Neither one would hesitate to throw themselves on a grenade or over a cliff if it meant someone else’s chance to live. They were do it or die trying people. Sam was… Sam was Sam. And when he spotted Bucky making a beeline to the exit, he just waved and shouted “have a good ride.” The wink was uncalled for and made Bucky question how much Sam really knew. He was a deadly intuitive little shit and despite Bucky’s best attempts not to even think it… one of the best people he’d ever known. Not that he felt the need to tell Sam that. He probably already knew it. Blessedly, Bucky ran into no other superheroes on his way through the compound. The garage, more like a hangar, was empty. Only the most expensive toys in Tony Stark’s arsenal and a high tech key coded workshop that Bucky felt so out of place in he kept a small tool box of his own so he wouldn’t have to wander through it. God forbid he go digging for a socket wrench and laser one of his fingers off. Anything was possible on Stark property.

Bucky zipped across the Hudson and sped toward the zoo, stopping at the deli on the corner and looking up two floors at the flat corner window. You weren’t waiting for him like usual. He’d pulled off the road once he got away from the compound and called you like he always did, giving you plenty of advance warning. It would be more gentlemanly to ask your permission before leaving home, but you hadn’t turned him down yet and if you ever did, he figured he’d keep driving anyways just to be away from everyone else for a while. Most times, when Bucky rounded the corner, slipping his bike into the space between your building and the overgrown lot next door, you found your way to that window, waving him up and putting a little something extra in his steps. You weren’t there, but you knew he was coming, so he made his way to the building’s entrance. A call, a buzz, a knock and Bucky was in your space again, taking a deep breath and inhaling the sweetness from your kitchen.

Your back was turned to him, having opened the door for him before rushing back to your place at the counter without a formal greeting, and Bucky watched curiously as you dropped little chocolate chip cookies onto a paper plate. You waved your fingers around after using your bare hands to pull them off the parchment paper and sucked your thumb between your lips to rid it of a rogue chocolate dripping. Bucky eyed the plate presented to him then looked up into your eyes.

“I googled you,” you said proudly. Bucky nodded and said okay, like he knew what that meant. It sounded sexual, but he hadn’t seen you in a week and frankly, he was more interested in googling than cookies. “It’s your birthday, Bucky! Why didn’t you say anything?” You looked delightfully scandalized and held out two cookies for him, which he accepted with a half smile. They were warm and started to fall apart between his fingers, so he shoved both into his mouth before making a gooey mess of himself. While his mouth was full, you cleaned up your tiny kitchen and dropped the plate onto the coffee table in the living area, talking about how embarrassing it was that you hadn’t thought to look him up sooner, but how lucky you felt that you’d thought about it after he called. You wished you’d had time to make a cake, but wanted to be home when he arrived, so freezer cookies were the best you could do after work.

You weren’t dating. Not really. That was why Bucky hadn’t mentioned it. Steve and Natasha wanted to make a big stink out of it, but he wanted no part of that. He just wanted to see you and get some of that good sleep he only got in your apartment after wearing you out two or three times. Sitting on the couch next to you, he took another cookie from the plate. They were better than they looked and he planned to clear the whole dang thing before taking you to bed. Maybe he’d save a few for the refractory period. You’d need sustenance too. So Bucky took his fourth cookie, which made you smile even wider and pledge to leave the rest for later.

The truth was, Bucky hadn’t celebrated a birthday in decades. The last one he could remember being awake for was in the seventies. He waited outside the governor's mansion in Bermuda for hours, watching a dinner party eventually lull and disperse. The Winter Soldier had no clue of the cruel irony watching another man’s party on one’s birthday, the asset’s only focus was quickly killing the governor and his companion once they stepped out of the house for a walk. He’d spared the dog though, a massive and beautiful beast without a single aggressive bone in its body who loped away from the scene whining. You hated that story when Bucky confessed it. He hadn’t felt the need to go into much detail regarding his time as the fist of Hydra. At first because he didn’t care for you to know. It was a fling. Fun. What pieces he did remember from those days were anything but fun. After determining that he liked you, really liked you, Bucky kept his trap shut for fear of scaring you. You knew who he was in theory, but as long as he wasn’t relaying his bloodiest days to you like he was now, maybe you wouldn’t look at him like the monster he didn’t want to be anymore. To his surprise, you hated that he sat in a tree watching people eat and drink and laugh the night away on his birthday, regardless of whether he knew it at the time. However, you zeroed in on his attempts to spare the dog, filling in the blanks that somewhere deep within the Asset, he had maintained some of his humanity. Some of his Buckyness.

“I don’t know if that helps… or if it makes everything worse…” you said, hesitating to go on, but he caught your meaning. Was it better to think that Hydra succeed in wiping him clean, using only his body and latent memories, discarding his mind all together? Or was it somehow hopeful, to think that in all their trying to eliminate Bucky Barnes in order to free their Asset, some piece of him had remained intact? Bucky wasn’t sure he could stomach the idea that any part of him had been present during grizzly assassinations, nor could he ever fully shake the idea that he wasn’t. Either way, these conversations weren’t what he came to you for.

While you were still looking shy, wondering if you should have stopped him from telling his story, Bucky kissed you. It was sweet, not just from the chocolate on his breath. “Thank you,” he said softly, thumbing a brown smudge at the corner of your mouth. “For the cookies. For listening.” His eyes passed over each of yours in turn. “Thanks for being here.”

“Of course,” you smiled. It wasn’t as obvious as you made it sound, but he liked that you felt it was. “I could be around more, you know.” Bucky didn’t know what you meant, but that became clear in a matter of moments. You sucked in your lips and started again. “I know we haven’t talked about...uh, well, what this is, but you’ve been coming over for a while now and I guess…”

“You guess?” Bucky prompted you to continue, when you trailed off.

“I didn’t expect you to still be calling me, so I guess I’m asking,” you said. “Asking what we are now?”

“Oh.” Bucky hadn’t meant to say it like that, but it came out like that and your eyes widened immediately. He scrambled, grabbing your hands quickly and holding them both in a firm pile against your thigh. “Oh, meaning, I didn’t think that’s what we were doing here, so this is unexpected.”

“Oh,” you respond and Bucky imagines you meant it exactly how it sounded. Disappointed and the single syllable precursor to his being disinvited from your apartment. And your bed. And your everything.

“But, I like the idea,” he supplies quickly, but he can see your look is hesitantly hopeful. “Of more, I mean. Seeing where… ya know.”

“Yeah,” you smile and Bucky breathed out his relief. “So we’re together…?”

“As together as we can be,” he said, having no clue what he meant by it, but it seemed to be the right thing considering how you kissed him. You pulled your hands from his to wrap behind his neck and fit yourself into his lap. Bucky’s hands went to your thighs, spread wide over his hips, and he squeezed his way up the backs to your jean pockets, slipping his hands inside to squeeze again. “Here or…” Bucky pulled away to catch his breath and nod in the direction of your bedroom.

“Take your girlfriend to bed, Bucky,” you laughed, kissing him again and he stood with you still in his arms, legs clinging to his lower back. Girlfriend. Okay, Bucky decided in a snap. He could work with that. Especially if it meant chocolate chip cookies and birthday sex. Which reminded him and you giggled as he turned back around, hoisting you higher up on his torso with the vibranium arm below your butt and stooped carefully to grab the plate of cookies with the other before taking you and your cookies to bed.

His first relationship in the 21st century had surprised him. Come out of nowhere and nothing. One moment he was standing at a bar, nursing a beer that wouldn’t affect him at all while he listened to talk about your job before not so subtly asking about his, the next it was his birthday and he had a mouthful of chocolate chip cookies while you had a mouthful of him. It’s funny how fast life changes. If only he’d known just how quickly his new relationship would fall apart.

A/N: I’ve been cooking up this series for a while now and I thought, why not post the first bit and see what happens. First time writing for this fandom, so we’re diving in head first with a feckin’ long series and some foolin’ around. I do welcome tags if you’re interested.

Masterlist

[spaghettifox-123]

Beast of the Darkness I

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/ winter-soldier X OFC/ reader AU

Wordcount: 2580

Summary: meet the winter-soldier, one of Hydra’s most skilled and deadliest assets, and the enormous fire-breathing creature that has always been by his side.

Author’s note: I like watching avengers movies, and I like watching Sebastian stan as the winter-soldier even more ;), but I’m no marvel expert and so there may be some canon mistakes. Also, these writings are based on the movies, I haven’t read the comics…

Furthermore, English is not my first language so grammar and spelling mistakes are sure to follow! Sorry ‘bout that.

This is my first fanfiction, so please give it some love!! I’m always open for constructive criticism and feedback and when this piece is received well, I will continue writing next chapters :)!

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

It was cold outside, when an elderly man walked out of the small block hut that was perched on one of the plateaus of the Yablonovy mountains. The quiet night, which was only disturbed by the occasional whistling of the cold night-time wind, gave the nuclear engineer a sense of calmness and serenity. As he made his way down the small path that led down the mountain, the man could only think off the staples of money that he would be presented with, when he would hand over these new drafts to his client. The contents of these papers, which he had only just finished drawing last evening, have the power to change everything change everything; they could redefine modern warfare and potentially make things we once considered impossible, possible. Just thinking about all the fame and acknowledgement his ideas would bring him, made the men want to reach his awaiting vehicle as fast as possible, so he increased his walking speed, practically skipping down the mountain trail.

Too caught up in his own haste and excitement, he was oblivious to the pair of eyes following his every move.

Another man was crouched between the few bushes and trees that were scattered on the surface of the mountain, waiting, assessing, watching. He was silently following his target from a safe distance, when a sudden sound behind him caused him to whip around, bionic arm raised and holding his gun, pointing at whoever had been able to sneak up on him. However, when emerald glowing eyes met steel blue ones, the offending weapon was lowered and the winter-soldier gestured for his partner to follow him.

They followed a more direct route, swiftly moving over the more uneven and slipperier rocks of the mountain. Arriving at a ledge that gave them the perfect view of the squad team that had been appointed to pick up their target, they waited until it was their time to strike. As they stood there, next to each other, the eyes of the winter soldier were drawn to his companion.

She wore her stealth suit, a pitch-black and form fitting catsuit, with a belt that hung low on her hips. Some smaller, but nonetheless lethal, knifes were attached to the belt, but she rarely used them. She didn’t fight a lot. He followed the zipper that went from her lower back to the base of her neck where the tips of her hair just barely touched her skin. She had her hair up in a ponytail, however, a few stubborn strands still hung loosely around her face, caressing her the top of her cheeks. She had very sharp features, only further highlighted by the light of the moon that shone upon them. He had a feeling she would have had more rounded facial features, if she would have been more well-fed. Now she only just got enough scraps of food to prevent malnourishment. He looked at her face; starting by her lips, he followed the arch of her nose bridge up to her her eyes.

Emerald eyes that were looking right at him.

His eyes widened and the he turned his head away quickly, feeling strangely discomposed after having been caught staring. After a few minutes of looking down the ledge without really seeing anything, he dared to let his gaze wander once again.

She was still looking at him, but her eyes seemed to soften when their gazes met. They always seemed to do that. Always when he met her eyes, he was greeted by a welcoming gaze. Never a smile, but always kind eyes.

She suddenly opened her mouth, as if to say something, but she never got the chance as at that exact moment the engineer arrived at the clearing below. The soldier swiftly removed his sniper riffle from his back just as his partner silently looked through her scope and they work together to get everything in the right position.

He looked through his own scope, inhaled, exhaled and pulled the trigger.

 ......

It should have been an easy mission, follow the target without being noticed, silently set up the equipment, shoot, get the papers and disappear. It’s what they’ve always done and this time shouldn’t have been any different.

And yet is was. he missed his shot.

How he could have missed, would always be a mystery to him. Whether it were her lips that had distracted him when they had set up their shot or if had been the small whiff of her smell which he had caught right before he pulled the trigger, he would never know. All that mattered now, was that he had to kill that engineer and get the documents.

He jumped of the cliff, and fought his way to the target. His partner stayed up the cliff. She wasn’t as skilled as he was in combat and was more of a means to disappear. He hit the first agent that dared to approach him squarely in the face, ducked the fists of another one before punching him in the stomach making the person double over. He hit one on the head with the barrel one of his smaller guns and then shot two others that immediately fell to the ground.

Withing a matter of seconds he had reached the now screaming and trembling engineer. The old man started to slowly walk backwards, arms outstretched as one would do when approached by a dangerous animal, but he fell to the ground after having stumbled on a small rock that stuck out of the ground.

The soldier was about to jump on him and crush his windpipe with his metal hand, but instead his path was blocked by an agent who went to stand in front of the engineer, covering him. Her eyes reminded him of someone from his past, someone he had met before, however he didn’t have time to ponder and search his memory. He raised his gun, and shot right through the abdomen of the agent and into the chest of the man still lying on the ground behind her. With his metal arm he threw the shot agent to the side and crouched beside the dead body of the engineer. He snatched the briefcase from his cold grasp and without sparing either of them a second glance he looked up again and briefly scanned his surroundings. There were still a few agents left and he knew he could easily take them all on. The only thing stopping him from killing all witnesses, was that in a few moments their back-up would probably arrive, and seeing that as little people as possible should be aware of his existence, he chose to run instead.

However, he did not run back up the mountain. Instead he sprinted in the opposite direction, to the edge of the clearing which was around 900 meters above ground level. Though their current whereabouts weren’t as high as their starting point near the block hut, a fall from this altitude would undoubtedly end his life.

Still, he jumped.

The feeling of falling would always feel weird to the soldier. Even though he was speeding towards the ground at incredible speed, it felt as if he was flying. Falling felt free, as if for once he could close his eyes and just think. He could think about who he had been before all this misery had started and consider who he was now. There had to be something before he was forced to take orders from other people and had to kill in order not to be killed himself. Hydra is all he can remember, but he also remembers that he had been around this age when he had woken up and sent out on missions with his brand new metal arm. Despite the fact that their organization had many scientist amongst them, he was positive they had not yet found a way to create life, meaning he wasn’t born within Hydra. He must have had parents and perhaps even brothers or sisters, maybe even friends. He never really had time to ponder about his past in between the mission reports, cryofreezing and missions themselves, so he relished the moments where he was free to just think.

A sudden rush of air and a loud roar suddenly halted his train of thought. He slowly opened his eyes and turned whilst still falling through the sky so that his stomach was now facing the rapidly approaching ground. He slowly inhaled and exhaled, far too calm for someone who was so close to smashing to the earth from such height. His body was just about the hit ground, an impact that would surely result in his immediate death, when a large black creature swooped beneath him. he curled his arms around its large neck and as it started to fly up again, he pulled his body to that of the beast, curling his legs around its torso.

As fast as he had fallen from the cliff, he was now rising again and in a blink of an eye they flew over the cliff again. At first the beast just hovered above the clearing looking at the frozen agents below them, when suddenly it released another loud roar and engulfed the clearing in flames, before flying away back to their headquarters.

They soared through the dark night sky and just before the soldier would once again succumb to the freeing feeling of flying, the creature looked back at him and its emerald eyes seemed to slightly soften at the sight of him.

  .....

Shield agent Natasha Romanoff fell to the ground, hand covering her abdomen, as she watched the winter soldier, one of the most deadly and skilled assassins she had ever encountered, run away. In his metal hand he held the briefcase that had been in the possession of the engineer just moments ago.

She had been appointed to protect him, the engineer that is, and the valuable information that he had carried with him, but when she had seen the soldier walk towards her, gun raised and firmly held in between the metal fingers of his metal arm, adorned with the red star that would forever be carved into her memory, she knew that the old man would never stand a chance.

Still, she tried to shield him, because that was what a hero would do. That was at least what she was trying to be now anyways: a hero. One of the good guys for once. Knowing that what she did was what she had to, made her feel a little better about the hole that was shot in her abdomen. Moreover, she had had worse wounds in the past and considering her profession, she would most likely get worse in the future. This was nothing she couldn’t handle.

She looked up just in time to see the winter soldier jump off the edge of the cliff. From what she recalled, he had not had a parachute bag on him and he hadn’t worn a wingsuit or anything of the like either. There was of course the possibility that some sort of aircraft would be awaiting him down  the cliff and catch him from the sky, but flying so near a mountain is dangerous. Even a highly skilled pilot would face tremendous difficulty were that to be true. Furthermore, they had a lot of backup and other squad teams covering the ground and perimeter. Landing or flying amidst all that would be unadvisable, even for a super-soldier such as the winter soldier.

Other agents seemed to realize this too, and they all started to rush over in order to peer over the edge of the cliff whilst whispering and murmuring amongst Themselves. A few medics that had just arrived moved over to her and gave her something to apply pressure to her wound before moving on to the other injured agents after she said she could handle it on her own. Whilst still applying pressure to her abdomen, she tried to move over to the vehicle that was meant to take the engineer away. She had just reached the car and was leaning against it, when a fast movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

A young woman, perhaps a few years younger than herself, had appeared out of nowhere and was now sprinting to the edge of the cliff as well. The agents that were looking over the edge of the cliff hadn’t noticed her yet and yelled in surprise when they were forcefully pushed aside by the stranger. They were taken by even more surprise when she jumped right after the super soldier.

The redhead started to really wonder why hydra would tell their assets to commit suicide, when the agents on the clearing screamed yet again, but this time in horror. A large black blur had surged upwards from the depths of the mountain and was now hovering over the clearing. She wouldn’t have been able to identify the creature at all if it weren’t for the dark outline of its form. The beast’s skin seemed even darker than the night sky, so pitch-black, that you could make out its silhouette against the black that was the color of the sky.

It opened its mouth and led out a bloodcurdling roar, before breathing fire in their general direction.

The agents on the cliff all searched for cover as huge flames spread across the clearing. The people that had stood by the edge had all been unfortunate enough to either have been burned alive or to have been hit by its strong tail and thrown of the cliff. As the few last remaining agents ran down the mountain, the flames spread further, and the creature rose once again. Natasha could see the beast more clearly now it had the white background of the moon behind it instead of the dark sky.

It looked like a dragon similar to those that appeared in children’s stories. It was huge, with midnight black scales adorning its body. It had a muscular chest, and the strong muscles seemed to contract and relax as it batted its bat-like wings. These wings were so strong that even she, from her place below on the mountain, could feel the enormous windblows it created. Attached to it its body was the long tail that had just moments before pushed at least 4 agents from the edge of the cliff and she could faintly make out the shining of razor sharp claws that were on either of its pentadactyl hands and feet. Evenly sharp were the rows of teeth that were displayed when the creature let out another thundering roar.

The deafening sound pulled her from the trance she had been in. She pulled her own fire weapon, raised her arm, whilst still applying pressure to her wound, and shot.

She saw how her bullet just barely grazed its target as the beast flew up again and away from the mountain range. Right before it disappeared again in the darkness of the night, her eyes caught the shimmer of metal that reflected the moonlight.

The next day, all people talked about the metal armed man that had ambushed them, jumped off a cliff and flew away on the back of a monster. A creature that had risen straight out of the depths of hell. An animal that was a creation of the devil himself. A creature of the darkness.

[thestuckylibrary]

A Year in Reading: 2019 - Julia

2019 wasn’t kind, but fandom is always there to cheer you up. Under the cut is a list of my favorite 2019 reads <3

Please make sure to check the additional tags for each of them and happy reading!

January

The Pajama Party Incident by follow_the_sun (oneshot | 1,455 | T)

A pajama party goes horribly wrong, then wonderfully right.

heartbeat going strong by fireflyslove (oneshot | 4,364 | T)

Steve's been sent to kill the dragon holding the Princess hostage, but the Princess isn't a hostage, and the dragon isn't what he seems.

I’m a Sucker for a Wild Boy by jinlinli (complete | 9,897 | T)

Steve is a vampire who’s never met a werewolf in his life before. Bucky is a werewolf who doesn’t even know vampires exist. Naturally, neck biting means two very different things to them.

In which Steve goes for a midnight snack and accidentally gets himself werewolf married.

The Very Heart of It by merryofsoul (oneshot | 17,743 | M) - Restricted

In which Captain America adopts a dog from Bucky and they become friends — and then more.

call me old-fashioned by I_mNotYourEnemy (oneshot | 7,458 | T)

Steve rises before the sun, runs through various exercises until his muscles burn and sweat gathers on his brow. He showers and dresses and eats, and then heads out the door with dampness still clinging to his hair. His path doesn’t cross with anyone else’s until he reaches the local subway station. He jogs down the stairs to the platform and sees the man waiting there once again, the sergeant.

Or: Bucky joins Steve on his morning commute. Steve draws him and gets his number.

the long walk home by Deisderium (oneshot | 3,566 | E)

On the walk back from Azzano, Bucky keeps touching Steve's chest. Then he touches it some more. And more.

Steve bites his lip raw. AKA tiddy fic

Heckin' Chunker for Love by canistakahari (oneshot | 2,708 | T)

On the inside of the big floor to ceiling window of the office across the street, someone has used Post-it Notes to spell out a message:

W H A T I S Y O U R C A T ’ S N A M E ?

February

bucky barnes and the art class by belovedmuerto (oneshot | 1,420 | T)

Bucky takes an art class, because he wants to spend more time with Steve.

Patience by cleo4u2 (oneshot | 5,073 | E)

You should never Google yourself. Steve knows that, he's been out of the ice for over a year, but he just can't help himself. After finding a gorgeous, sexy brunette thirst tweeting about calling him Daddy, he can't help himself from responding, either.

i want it, i got it by bornes (oneshot | 1,499 | T)

Ten minutes into their impromptu mall adventure, Steve has offered to buy Bucky a designer sofa he had sat on briefly to rest his legs, a $600 headband, and a diamond-encrusted butterfly clip

Remember How to Love by betoning (oneshot | 3,852 | T)

“We shared a bed,” Bucky remembers, "and your toes were freezin’. We didn’t – nothing more, though.”

“No, Buck,” Steve swallows. “Nothing more.”

(Bucky wants more.)

tease me, squeeze me by goodmanperfectsoldier (oneshot | 3,757 | E) - Restricted

It isn’t his fault that Steve has absolutely no sense of modesty. It isn’t his fault that Steve has no desire to be in his Captain America uniform any longer than strictly necessary. It isn’t his fault that Steve tends to start disrobing as soon as they hit friendly airspace, so that he can pull on a t-shirt and sweatpants before they even make it back to headquarters, much less get home to their apartment.

The Fool in the Mirror by thepinupchemist (complete | 111,489 | E) - violence, check additional tags for warnings!

The Avengers, SHIELD, and the world at large have underestimated the pain that Steve Rogers is in.

The night after a near brush with a suicide attempt, Steve discovers the world of support omegas, and in his desperation for relief from the battlefield of his brain, demands to have one.

Enter Bucky Barnes: retired marine, millennial, amputee, brother, son, and support omega. He maybe, just maybe, can help a broken alpha heal in the twenty-first century.

The Best Way to Wake by LeeHan (oneshot | 42,285 | E)

James Buchanan Barnes lay in a glass pod in the middle of the table, frozen since he fell. Steve’s hands were on the glass before he realized he’d moved. “Wait, Captain!” “Get him out,” Steve whispered, his hands searching for a clasp, a keypad, something. “Captain, we need to keep him in stasis—“ “I said get him out!”

March

Taken by Surprise by Mireille (oneshot | 1,606 | E)

It turned out that there were things Bucky didn't know about Steve, after all. 

In the Shadow of Armistice by superheroresin (complete | 63,491 | E)

Sedryn Amathion is a young Ñoldor elf born of lower Himring near the end of the harrowed Second Age. Vice-Captain of the Forlindon Shieldmasters, herald of the High King Gil-Galad, and devotee of Eärendil, the Star of High Hope.

Or, as the ragtag Dúnedain troupe known as the Howling Commandos calls him, Steve.

The Commandos are to sabotage an orc signal tower deep within the Ephel Dúath mountains, clearing the way for the armies of the Last Alliance to march on Barad-dûr and rescue all of Middle-earth from the clutches of this new and terrible Dark Lord.

“Steve” has no way of knowing that love formed deep behind enemy lines would settle so completely inside his immortal heart, defying time, distance, and ultimately death itself.

Tinder Is the Night by rohkeutta (oneshot | 6,802 | E)

It’s the quality that gets him first. The profile photo looks like it's been taken with a semi-professional camera: it's sharp and remarkably unposed compared to most people on Tinder. The guy in the photo is the size of a fucking fridge but with Marilyn Monroe’s waistline, accentuated by the way he’s standing half-twisted towards the camera.

He’s also in the process of getting arrested.

Steve, 28, it says under the photo. New York City. Some say I have an arresting personality. This photo is from my good side. The other has a shiner.

Introduction to Fake Dating Your Best Friend 101 by crinklefries (oneshot | 24,627 | T)

Bucky stares at his best friend as though he’s absolutely lost what’s left of his dumbass mind.

“Excuse me?” he asks dumbly.

Steve sighs and sags back onto the couch, covering his face dramatically with one large, well-manicured hand.

“Dean Coulson thinks we’re dating. And gay. But like, for each other. And now I need you to fake date me so I can convince the Chancellor to fund my research.”

or;

Steve and Bucky are a pair of professors who have to fake date for academic purposes and are real dumb along the way. It's not so much a forest of pine as a whole landscape of it. It turns out fine, probably.

straight from your heart by luninosity (oneshot | 10,516 | E) - check additional tags for warnings!

Steve doesn’t mean to have the orgasm. Not exactly. Not the first time, anyway.

It’s the leather and the buckles and the capable stance. It’s the determination: familiar, and not. Steve doesn’t even know which mission this had been. Where this snapshot of the Winter Soldier had been captured, a splinter out of time. Too many to choose from. But that doesn’t matter.

His skin prickles, his heart races in supersoldier extra-double-time, with want.

Things That Go Bump in the Night by seapigeon, velleities (complete | 38,266 | E)

Many an odd critter and item have ended up on the front porch of the property Bucky house-sits in the Middle Of Nowhere, but a bleeding blond man is a first. A short inspection reveals the man to be none other than Steve Rogers; ex-Captain America, vigilante, and a wanted fugitive. Steve’s stay of a few days of recovery is prolonged, under instructions for him to lie low until the Avengers can sort out the mess that has become the Sokovia Accords. Bucky is pretty sure that he’s committing an act of treason by providing Steve a place to stay. He is also pretty sure that lengthy interaction with Steve makes one prone to impending headaches and possibly ulcers. And he is certain that he is, very assuredly, in danger of falling in love with Steve.

skin by mcwho (oneshot | 1,945  | E)

Steve is spooning Bucky, an arm draped loosely around his middle, laying on the large sofa opposite the TV. His lips are against Bucky’s hair, breathing him in.

It’d be an average Thursday night if it wasn’t for Steve being buried to the hilt inside of him and showing no signs of moving any time soon.

Rouge Fétiche by bangyababy, Neutralchaos (oneshot | 6,941 | E)

“Steve,” Bucky breathed, coming closer. “Stevie, what’s all this?”

Steve made no move to cover himself, now that Bucky had seen it, there was no point. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the ground. “What’s it look like?” he bit out. “I’m wearin’ women’s panties, that’s what it is.”

-

Steve has been keeping a secret from Bucky-sometimes he likes to wear women's underwear. He thinks it's wrong and he shouldn't want to do it, but he can't help it, so he keeps it to himself. But when Bucky walks in on him one day, Steve eventually has to explain himself. Of course, as it turns out, he was worried about nothing.

Army Proof by aetataureate (complete | 18,423 | T)

Despite his recent and unexpected promotion from green recruit to national icon and media darling Captain America, Steve Rogers still lacks the skills and experience necessary to thrive in the Army. First Sergeant Tony Stark has dealt with decades of tomfoolery from his subordinates, but nothing has quite prepared him for the particular brand of chaos that trails in Steve's wake.

Steve's team includes at least one competent adult in Sam Wilson, but also contains Clint Barton, a mechanic who cheats at cards and still loses, and Natasha Romanov, their terrifying police escort. Together, the gang must navigate across Eastern Europe without causing Steve’s next major international incident.

On the other side of the world, Bucky Barnes is contending with a new reality while doing what he can to keep his accidental hero boyfriend on the path that will eventually lead him home.

much tattoo about nothing by Deisderium (oneshot | 14,576 | E)

Steve Rogers gets a lot of email requests, but never one like this: James Barnes wants to use his healing factor to practice tattoos.

Turns out tattoos give Steve boners.

before we can breathe easy by belovedmuerto (oneshot | 22,052 | T)

No one touches Steve.

Bucky sets out to do something about that.

April

Count On Me Like One, Two, Three by MacksDramaticShenanigans (oneshot | 4,235 | G)

“I also need to get one of those scooter things,” Bucky adds. “That’s gotta be better than these damn crutches.” Steve’s eyes drop down to the crutches again, and he frowns. “Crutches are never comfortable,” he agrees, shaking his head. “You want a piggyback ride?” He asks, grinning as he laughs at his own joke. Bucky ducks his head and laughs along, a good-natured smile settling over his lips. “Yeah, that would be real nice, wouldn’t it?” He says, not thinking anything of it. When he looks back up, however, Steve’s already in the process of shrugging his backpack off of his shoulders. The smile melts off of Bucky’s face and his brows furrow together. Was that… a serious offer?

stay by birdjay (oneshot | 1,318 | T)

The platform buzzes, and suddenly goes quiet. The cycle has finished. Bucky doesn’t bother to look. There’s no way Steve’s coming back when he has the chance to stay. He moves to walk away, to move on with his life, somehow.

“Buck -- ?”

Bucky whirls around, hair flying.

might never be normal again (but who cares) by napricot (complete | 51,540 | E)

The beginnings of a plan took shape in Steve’s mind, as clear and simple as a tactical frontal assault. He’d prove to Bucky that this was it, he was staying: Steve was retired from the fighting game, Steve wasn’t going to let anything keep pulling them apart. Maybe then when Steve finally told him he loved him, Bucky would believe him.

All things considered, Steve thought he’d handled the whole Thanos killing half the universe thing and the ensuing bitter, desperate quest to defeat him pretty well. Sacrificing his super soldier serum to use one of the Infinity Stones wasn't a problem either, not when it meant getting back the half of the universe they'd lost, and especially not when it meant getting Bucky back. But retirement and finally confessing his feelings for Bucky? Those were proving to be more challenging.

May

Smile by WinterTheWriter (oneshot | 2,205 | E)

They say Bucky never smiles, and that's true.

Almost.

The Settler by charlesdk (complete | 52,203 | M)

“What do you want to do?”

Steve pauses and looks at them.

What he wants is to stay with them. He doesn't have any family left, they all died before he even joined the war and became... this. Captain America turned whatever he is now. But Natasha and Sam have become his family over the years. Not just because they're on the run together, fugitives and vigilantes, but way before that too.

He doesn't want to leave that.

But he knows that, realistically, he can't stay with them and they can't stay with him.

So he looks at them with a smile and lies. “I don't know.”

OR; In which Steve retires and finally finds a place to call home.

And fill our bodies up like water till we know by caughtinanocean (oneshot | 22,705 | T)

Wolves mate for life. It's both the best thing about Bucky's life, and the most inconvenient.

After six days in Steve’s arms, Bucky dreams again, for the first time since the ice — wolf dreams, four feet on the ground, the smell of the earth, and his eyes in the sky.

The moon is coming, and this reprieve — like all reprieves — is temporary.

June

Home Is Wherever I'm With You by cydonic (complete | 88,570 | E)

This is what happens when you buy a house to flip having only seen the online images: you get more than you bargained for. Bucky Barnes brings all the tools to handle a dilapidated home, but he's hardly prepared for a smart-mouthed child (with poor aim), a crying baby, and the hottest dad he's ever seen in his life living right next door.

That House-Flipper!AU.

People Change, Love Doesn't by Kateis_Cakeis (complete | 119,144 | E)

Bucky didn't fall from the train. Steve didn't die when he jumped out of the plane. They survived.

But suddenly, it wasn't enough to keep their feelings hidden. They had both almost died, only to come back stronger. Well, Steve was done pretending they were only friends, and Bucky was done too.

Surviving the war, however, brought so many challenges. Being SSR agents, eventually becoming SHIELD, building a family with their friends. Living. What would happen as the years ticked on?

miles to go before i sleep by alby_mangroves, obsessivereader (complete | 34,079 | E)

Vietnam vet Bucky is just trying to get a hot meal, and maybe a job, in the small town of Hope, but the local law enforcement has other ideas. When their brutality triggers a flashback, Bucky snaps and escapes from their custody. Hunted, exhausted, injured, he finds shelter for the night next to a cabin in the middle of the woods. He means to be long gone before the cabin's occupant awakes. Things don't turn out quite the way he expected.

All of Your Love is Sunlight by canistakahari, WarlockInTraining (oneshot | 22,657 | E)

Sometimes the path to happiness involves bad timing turned good, a butt plant, and a little everyday magic. For Steve and Bucky, it's all that and more.

if you're looking for jesus (then get on your knees) by voxofthevoid (oneshot | 18,171 | E)

S.H.I.E.L.D Agent Bucky Barnes is captured on a mission and meets Commander Steve Rogers, the erstwhile Captain America.

A Year in the Life of Sarge's Person by Angst_BuriTTo, BlueSimplicity (complete | 189,125 | E) 

This is the tale of a year in the life of Sarge’s person, AKA James Buchanan Barnes, as he tries to recover from everything that’s happened to him over the past eighty years. During that time, he is forced to deal with bad therapists, people with their own agendas, memories he doesn’t want, horrible losses from his past and almost insurmountable odds.

But this is also the story of all the crazy people Bucky meets along the way, who help him when he’s at his lowest, point him in the right direction when he feels lost, make him laugh, grow to love him for who he is, and most importantly, give him hope when he needs it most.

It’s a long and difficult journey, as Bucky works not just to let go of his past, but to also rebuild his own identity and a future for himself. And with Sarge at his side, Bucky slowly comes to realize that not everything he once loved is lost, and if he can just have enough faith in himself and those around him, he might, just might, get his very own happy ending.

Bucky IS Sarge’s person after all. As the once abandoned puppy Bucky saved one night from freezing to death, he knows, more than anyone, just how much Bucky deserves it.

Let this be light work by caughtinanocean (oneshot | 8,628 | T)

On the run with Sam and Natasha, Steve finds the words to describe his commitment to Bucky. As with most of Steve’s decisions, there are unintended consequences.

July

everything the water can be by jehans (oneshot | 5,622 | E)

“So,” Bucky continues slowly, his blush deepening, “you get the best time today. . . ,” he takes a breath, drops his voice even lower, and soughs, “I’ll let you take off my clothes. All of ‘em.”

Shit.

Steve suddenly realizes what a fucking moron he is for having initiated this line of flirtation here at the pool and right before practice.

it don't mean a thing (if it ain't got that swing) by carissima (oneshot | 6,375 | M)

“Alright,” Bucky says and stands with his hands on his hips and gives Steve a narrowed glare. “Hit me. What went wrong?”

“I uh, don’t actually know?” Steve says, and now he feels an embarrassed flush creep over his cheeks. “She stood me up.”

Bucky stares at him. Blinks once. And stares some more. “You,” he says flatly. “You got stood up?”

An Act of Kindness by greyhavensking (complete | 12,716 | T)

In which Bucky Barnes ignores personal boundaries and Steve Rogers gets increasingly flustered.

(Or five times Bucky manhandled Steve + one time it was the other way around)

crowding the hitter by rooonil_waazlib (complete | 12,917 | E)

But the trash monsters are coming closer, and Bucky’s going to be pissed if he has to get his grate replaced tomorrow.

He turns off the panini press, heads into his bedroom, and pulls his college baseball bat out of the closet, pausing only to pull on the slacks he’d just taken off. He’s going to go defend his shop, and he’s not going to do it in his underpants.

August

time on my hands (could be time spent with you) by thedoubteriswise (oneshot |  23,024 | M)

"You doing okay, kid?”

Steve releases a breath, deciding how honest he wants to be. No point in lying. No point in telling the truth, either. "Glad to see you."

"That’s not what I asked, but same to you, punk."

Quench by AidaRonan (complete | 9,417 | E)

Or the one where archeology intern Bucky Barnes meets actual archeologist Steve Rogers and reaches levels of thirst scientists once believed to be theoretically impossible.

I'll hold on a little tighter (maybe you'll stay the night) by glittercake (complete |  10,393 | E)

"No strings. I ain't got time for strings." Steve murmurs.

Bucky nods helplessly.

"Be discreet." Steve continues kissing his neck and talking, now also rubbing and squeezing his thigh. "Condoms, always. Back out anytime you want. And sweetheart—"

"Hm?" Bucky hums in a delirious daze as Steve works all the way down to his collarbone and bites, making Bucky jolt forward.

"I like it rough, don't do it any other way. If that ain't your thing, we gotta call it off right now."

this love immortal is an assassin's delight by voxofthevoid (oneshot | 12,954 | E)

After the Battle of New York, Captain America refuses to work for S.H.I.E.L.D and remains in New York. Alexander Pierce activates the Winter Soldier to handle the situation and unknowingly signs Hydra’s death warrant.

Watch With Glittering Eyes by Kellyscams (oneshot | 6,746 | E)

Witch Steve and familiar Bucky have a fun night together.

Happiness is a handful by pamurai (oneshot | 1,274 | E)

Steve's pecs compel Bucky's memories to return faster. Together they explore what makes them happy and what the future holds.

(It's Steve's tits.)

It's Been a Long, Long Time by non_tiembo_mala (oneshot | 11,862 | E)

It's been a thing almost as long as they have, since before Steve grew up and filled out his serum-given body. Connection, comfort-- whatever it is, it grounded them then and, as it turns out, it grounds them now, many decades and disasters later.

Or: the one where Steve's beautiful tits help Bucky get his memory back.

September

Do What You Did by Bentrumors (oneshot | 1,075 | E)

“Come finish what you started,” Bucky mumbles into the pillow.

“I can’t. Sam’s waiting for me.”

Bucky turns his head and glares at Steve through bleary eyes. “You’re going to leave me hanging?”

Steve shrugs.

a slow start by birdjay (oneshot | 2,689 | E)

It’s a gorgeous sight, Steve spread out like this. He wants to lick, wants to bite, wants inside where he’s hot and tight. Wants to make Steve make that gasping noise that he loves so much.

All in good time.

An Apple in the American Pie by Kimra (oneshot | 2,479 | M)

At the end of CAWS Steve runs off with Bucky, and also falls pregnant. Go figure.

October

All the sweetness and all the glory by pes (oneshot | 2,916 | M)

“Do you know,” Steve began softly, mindful of the sleeping child, “I can’t tell whom she takes after the most just yet, but one thing I know for certain. This,” he said, tracing Annie’s dimpled chin with the very tip of his finger, “this she got from your side of the family.”

(In which a visit to Bucky's new niece kindles all sorts of feelings, and a precious little secret comes to light.)

Give Up the Ghost by humapuma (complete | 44,541 | E)

Bucky Barnes is an anomaly; he's physically an Omega but has the body of an Alpha. He has a lot of the stubbornness too. Steve Rogers is an anomaly; he's a romantic and he believes in the traditions his parents raised him with. There's something about Steve that makes Bucky's Omega brain say, Mine. There's something about Bucky that makes Steve want to be more than a little reckless.

ever just as sure by ariadne_odair (complete | 7,938 | M)

“Your boyfriend is here.”

It’s take Steve a second to realise Sharon is talking to him; it then takes him even longer to respond and to stop choking on his reply. “I - er, is he?”

Sharon eyes him up like he’s lost his mind. “Well, the guy currently parking his crappy car in our car park is definitely not mine.”

Steve and Bucky are idiots. They're also in love. Obnoxiously so. Alternatively titled: Five times someone has a front-row seat to Steve and Bucky's relationship.

Where the Heart Is by Chancy_Lurking (oneshot | 12,133 | T)

“Couples are more than welcome to room together.”

Steve freezes up, feels his eyes go a little wide before he can help himself. He stumbles over his words, “Oh, I—No, we’re not—”

“We’re not going to give you any trouble about that,” Fury presses, turning to squint at them head on. “Stark likes to say we’re opened minded and close-knit. Your private life is your business, but you don’t need to hide here, understand?”

Steve goes to reiterate that they’re not a couple, but startles when Bucky’s hand settles on the small of his back. He looks at him like he’s lost his mind, but Bucky’s just smiling at him. “Never can be too careful these days,” he says.

(Steve and Bucky pretend to be a couple when they move in, but at some point, it stops feeling like pretend.)

Like gifts under trees by pes (oneshot | 6,528 | T)

Inside the leather satchel, bundled in a few layers of cloth, was the smooth swell of an egg. A dragon egg, dark, and shiny, and fluttering with life in its makeshift nest.

“I think it’s about to hatch,” Steve breathed, clutching the bag to his chest helplessly.

Bucky didn’t need to think twice.

Your voice is all I hear somehow, calling out winter by chaosmanor (oneshot | 13,597 | E) - stucky/symbiote

Bucky is remarkably functional, considering what he's been through. Then, sometimes, it's like a sullen killer is wearing his skin.

(Or, the fic no one asked for, where Bucky has a symbiote named Winter and everyone has to work out how to live together.)

Misery I Need by mwestbelle (oneshot | 2,592 | M)

"You've seen his file, right?" She let out a low whistle. "What a shame. To do that to such a pretty omega."

They thought he was asleep. She didn't mean anything by it, and if she knew that he'd heard he's sure she would have apologized. But it's her voice that he hears whenever he feels out of place, uncomfortable in his skin. What a shame.

OR a different take on Steve Rogers' body issues

November

Simple by Ellessey (oneshot | 4,043 | T)

Steve's holding Bucky's drink out to him and he's looking at Bucky in that way he does. It makes Bucky want to cover his face. It makes him want to peek inside of himself and see if he can actually spot the butterflies.

"Here you go," Steve says. "Extra hot, so be careful, 'kay?"

"Okay, thanks..." Bucky says. And then he has to swallow again, and his throat feels awfully tight but he practiced this last night and he can do this. He can. He opens his mouth again and adds, "Steve."

--

Every morning Bucky walks to a nearby coffee shop as a kind of exposure therapy. He isn't going there for the coffee, and he's not actually sure he's going there for the therapy anymore, but he's definitely going there for Steve Rogers' smile.

Every Move the Feeling Follows by thepinupchemist (oneshot | 5,412 | E)

After the Avengers win the battle against Thanos, everyone gets to go home. Steve and Bucky retire, get mated, and get surprised. They have a baby, and they get to start their lives again.

not idiots at all by icoulddothisallday (oneshot | 2,297 | M)

Somehow, despite the seventy years in the ice and his overwhelming fame and popularity, Steve’s words have never been recorded anywhere. He suspects that he has Peggy to thank for that. The words have always been a source of embarrassment for Steve, for one reason or another. When he was a child, his words were just another thing that set him apart from others. Other kids had common words - mostly names, as that was what you were supposed to say to a stranger. Some kids got dealt generic words like excuse me and good morning. Steve’s words didn’t make much sense, the ones that did were...not intended for polite conversation.

Thursday Nights with Bucky Barnes by Ellessey (oneshot | 4,662 | T)

Steve has a comfortable, well-worn routine for his Thursday nights, until the old man who runs the laundromat breaks his hip.

Then Steve has Bucky instead.

Rare Is This Love (Keep It Covered) by histoires_eternelles, musette22 (complete | 66,773 | E)

It's 2014. Captain America has been out of the ice for three years and is trudging along, saving the world and trying to get used to living in the future. Steve thinks he knows how the rest of his life is going to pan out – a life of duty, which he chose when he signed up to be Erskine’s science experiment. But then, he meets Bucky Barnes: the out-of-this-world-gorgeous mechanic and war vet, who turns Steve’s life upside down and makes him question everything he thought he knew. Slowly, Steve comes to realize there is more to life than duty and punching Nazis. Just one problem though: how on earth does a 96-year-old virgin who only just realized he may not be entirely straight make the transition from crush to relationship? Cue healthy amounts of self-doubt, awkward flirting, pretty blushing, existential crises, emotional growth, and maybe, possibly, a sexual awakening.

rather be a lover than a fighter (found peace in your violence) by voxofthevoid (oneshot | 4,355 | E)

The dust has settled, and the world is healing. Men are too. 

The Soldier's Revenge by LeeHan (complete | 76,406 | E)

Bucky Barnes turns himself in to SHIELD two years after dragging Captain America out of the Potomac River. He was deprogrammed in Wakanda and has been hunting down Hydra ever since, but he needs help if he wants to take proper revenge on his captors. He turns to his old enemies: SHIELD and the Avengers, but it'll take more than a few words to win their trust after the Winter Soldier brought SHIELD to its knees not long before. Now at SHIELD's mercy, the only thing that stands between Bucky and his revenge is the approval of Captain Rogers: a self-righteous asshole that Bucky barely knows.

All Those Little Pieces by Ellessey (complete | 40,516 | M)

Steve has never forgotten Bucky Barnes. Not their childhood together, not the horror of the moment Bucky fell too far for him to reach, and not the way he's loved him all the while.

Bucky has forgotten everything about Steve, at least at first. But there's still a feeling there, warm in his chest—and maybe now that he's found his way back to Steve Rogers and his sunny apartment, there's a chance it might turn into something more.

December

No fics for this month, since it was a difficult one.

In any case, I hope you enjoy all of these recs above and have a great 2020! <3

[the-omni-princess]

Frozen Heart [Chapter 8]

Author: @the-omni-princess

Summary:  After the war against Hydra, King Bucky comes home to take what has been promised to him since he was young, you. But he is not the same person as the young boy that you grew up with. Can she break through his tough shell and bring back the young man she once fell in love with? Or will she be forced to marry the monster everyone thinks he’s become?

Word Count: 5.2K

Pairing: King!Bucky x Fem!Reader (Royalty Au!)

Warnings:  Absolute and utter fluff!, badass!reader, mild language, a self-harm mention (not reader), Nudity but no smut

A/N:

I’m back! With so much fluff you’ll cry!

So, I have legit like four chapters done so if it all goes well I’ll be posting one a day, plus some one-shots I did!

No smut yet, but I got a one-shot smut Im posting tomorrow and then this series getting smutty :D but 18+ only or you’ll be getting blocked

-

[Series Masterlist]  [Masterlist]

----

Light flooded the once dark room as Natasha opened the curtains. You groaned, turning to your side and pulling a pillow over your eyes. "Five more minutes!" You cried out, your voice gruff with sleep.

Wanda poked her head out of the bathroom to speak, "Rise and shine! You need a bit of a pick-me-up so here I am, your bath is already drawn, and I'll be washing and braiding your hair."

You took a peek from underneath your pillow that sheltered you from the harsh morning light. "With the oils and perfume Pietro brought over?" You asked in a whisper, still desperate for sleep, but slowly being coaxed out of bed.

Wanda nodded, "One time offer so hurry up!"

"I'm coming!" You conceded, stretching your back, and letting the pillow fall off your face.

Five minutes later you were laying in the bath, Wanda washing your hair, her nails scratching your scalp as she shampooed your strands. You groaned softly, melting into her palms as you sipped on your coffee.

"So, y/n," Natasha, who was sitting beside the tub, doing your nails on your free hand, started to say. "How's the King treating you?"

You sighed softly, "I should have known you two were up to something, this sort of pampering only comes before events or when you're buttering me up," you teased. It had been about three months since you had moved up North with Bucky, and the seasons had shifted to autumn, the mountains already had more snow on top of them, bringing the cold to you. Bucky was swept up in work, busy trying to make sure the kingdom had enough in storage to last the winter. In the morning he would rush to meetings, and in the evenings when he could, he would find you around the castle. You were slowly familiarizing yourself in the halls, the passageways had a lot of wrong turns that could throw someone off, which just reminded you of your garden maze back in the South.

So far Bucky had been spoiling you rotten, and despite the multitude of interruptions, he was trying his hardest to spend time with you. He had managed to sneak himself away to give you a silver constellation necklace on a small golden chain, the constellation his birth was tied to, a necklace that never left your neck. He was still working on the greenhouse, but with his help, you managed to fix up the library, including a new window seat with pillows and fur-lined blankets.

You still remember the day you had found his personal study, the place he mentioned he destroyed during a rampage when he first came back from the War. It was an utter mess, books and maps littered the floor, the desk had splintered, and one wall had a hole in it, left behind most likely by his metal arm punching it. You immediately started to clean up the room, and that's how he found you that night, asleep, curled up against the desk, clutching a map of the Southern and Northern Kingdoms, the room mostly cleaned up. He had picked you up and tried to tuck you into bed, but you only buried yourself deeper into his arms, happy for the extra warmth.

You had also begun to bring warmth to the castle, one that you had heard the maids whispering about once. Naturally grown flowers from the nearby village were found in multiple rooms, scented candles from the lovely old lady two villages down the mountain, even representatives from other nations had mentioned the life seeping into the palace. You even had constellation lights added into your chambers, a fact only a select few people knew, and a new book on Morse code since you found out Bucky and Steve learned it in the War.

You had also frequently checked in with Steve, who sent Scott with you since he only trusted a few personal guards with your life, and Scott already knew the Northern Kingdom since his daughter Cassie lived with her mom and stepdad in the North. Steve was also doing perfectly fine as King, making you prouder than ever, and finally had a date with the Lady in court he had been eyeing.

Yet despite the many attempts you had of making this new home, well homely, something always felt missing. Love. Bucky. Always busy, always tiring himself out, wearing himself out too thin, he put the needs of the people and you above his own. You told as much to Natasha and Wanda, the latter having moved on to conditioning your hair now.

"I love him, gods, I absolutely adore him, but he needs to think of himself every once in a while. He has too many duties, taking on everything at once, and I have a feeling that's why you two are currently pampering me," you looked towards Natasha, who had a smirk on her face.

"You're reading my mind, y/n/n," she teased. "A King needs a Queen, henceforth, we are making you one. He has a meeting with his advisors today about increasing the storage for the grains to survive the winter. We both know you have been working on a plan, a good one, but you're too scared to tell him outright."

Wanda combed out your hair, massaging oils into your scalp as she spoke next. "Show everyone you will be a magnificent queen. Today, you're not going to just look like a queen, you're going to act like one. They won't respect you until you show them you're not some show pony princess from the south."

You smiled faintly, "You two are always scheming behind my back, but it is a good idea. Finally, be heard, be in charge, pull some of the weight of the duties off of Bucky, spend more time with him," you sighed and melted against Wanda's magical hands again. "Let's be a Queen." You whispered softly.

You let the two do their utter best, and by the end of it, you looked absolutely regal. A simple pink lace evening dress, and a tiara made of crystals on your head, you held back a proud smirk when you looked at yourself in the mirror. The tiara was made of rose gold, which caught the light when you moved, just enough to catch people's attention without being flashy. You finished the look with the constellation necklace Bucky had given you, which shone brightly against the pink lace.

You pushed your shoulders back, and held your head up high, deciding to use your best regal look, one you had perfected over the years. You entered the strategy room, all eyes going towards you. Advisors circled the table, maps, and plans along the table, with Bucky at the head of the table. Everyone was standing and considering the red faces of more than one advisor, you had interrupted a rather heated fight. You locked eyes with Bucky, who instantly smiled as he saw you, the cold expression he had when you walked in had melted just at the sight of you.

You took your time walking towards his side of the table, standing towards his left as you would if you were seated on thrones, taking your time to address the table. "Good afternoon, my Love," you happily kissed Bucky's now clean shave cheek. He had decided to go for the haircut and shaved after all, with hair just long enough for you to get your hands through it. You then turned to the advisors, "Good afternoon everyone, I have decided to join you all." You smiled warmly, leaving no room for disagreement, full well knowing you would still get some. Bucky looked at you a bit confused but also in awe, taking in the new order in stride, trusting you fully.

His advisors, however, weren't as welcome. "With all due respect, princess, we are speaking about a matter that does not concern you," a white-haired official spoke up, you recognized as Baron Ross. Despite Bucky's surprise of your presence, he knew Natasha and Scott had been teaching you everything to know about Northern Politics, including all the nobles and advisors in court, and who to be wary of.

"Well, Baron Ross, it does concern me. I may have been born in the Southern Kingdom, but the people of the Northern Kingdom will be my people soon enough. Unless you are saying that feeding said people is a topic that should not concern the leader of the people, I should and will be here." You kept your head held up high, determined not to show the fear in your heart that they wouldn't like you. It doesn't matter what they think, you reminded yourself, Bucky chose you and that's all that matters.

Another representative, one you couldn't see, spoke up. "Then what do you suppose you could do about the problem at hand? What could you possibly know about the situation?"

You bit back the growl growing in the back of your throat, Bucky wasn't as suppressed, you could see him tense, no doubt about to lash out at the man who questioned your ability. You gently placed your hand on top of his metal hand that was gripping the table. He visibly relaxed, as the metal had sensors to fire into his nerves, something you had asked Shuri once, and your very touch soothed him.

"Well, I know you have all been bickering about the food storage for the past month. Quarreling like children will only hinder the people instead of yourselves as we all know the Royal and Noble silos have been full for months. Besides, I've been working on a solution that will help the people that all parties should benefit from." You effectively shut the rest of the table up, and all eyes were on you as you explained your idea. Halfway through, Bucky had intertwined your hands together, letting you take charge of the room with his silent support. By the time they closed for the day, you had a fully functional plan and agreement in place that suited everyone's needs while also helping the kingdom.

You walked hand in hand with Bucky, who was in complete awe of you. "You were absolutely amazing, My Love! You going to be a magnificent Queen, you practically already are one!" He gushed, making you blush.

"Took a little push from my ladies but they were right, it's time I help ease the burden upon your shoulders, My Love," you kissed his cheek playfully, glancing behind you towards the personal guards flanking you, new ones you noticed. "What shall we do with our new free time?"

His face lit up, no doubt a grand idea forming in his head. "Follow me, it's time I introduce you to somebody," he sounded excited, already tugging you outside to where the Royal animals were kept.

He whistled once inside, his grip on your hand faltering as he took a step forward. A flash of pure white bounded towards the two of you, jumping into Bucky and knocking him backward. You yelped as his hand was ripped away from you, but all you could hear was his laughter as he wrestled with the white fur on top of him. It took you a moment to realize it was a pure white wolf attacking Bucky with kisses. He finally managed to sit up, and your heart melted at the sight before you. The juvenile wolf was still nipping at him, kissing his face, and yipping happily as he rubbed her ears and muzzle. A breathless Bucky looked up towards you, the bundle of fur managing to tire herself out, now curled up in his lap, definitely too big to fit there but managing to crush him anyway. "This is Aurora, my wolf, she's still a pup but she's already fiercely loyal, and ball of energy," he cooed at the wolf pup, who just whined and nuzzled into the hand scratching her ear.

You knelt beside the two, noticing how the wolf bared her teeth towards you as you got closer to Bucky. "She's absolutely beautiful," you said softly. Bucky gently took your hand in his own, presenting it to the wolf. She sniffed at you warily before nudging your palm with her muzzle. Bucky led your hand, gently brushing the wolf's fur. She was softer than most of the furs in your bed, and soon she closed her eyes, trusting that Bucky wouldn't let you hurt her. She whined softly, and as Bucky let your hand go, she relaxed against your hand, happily letting you scratch behind her ears. Bucky couldn't help but smile, overjoyed Aurora loved you. You sat beside him, Aurora nudging herself onto your lap to enjoy your affection. You cooed at the wolf, "You're such a good girl, aren't you? Such a good Wolfie, so soft and pretty!" The wolf in question melted against you, practically purring in your arms.

Bucky whistled, and her ears perked, but she stayed contentedly in your arms. "She loves you more than me!" He accused dramatically.

You laughed, shrugging, "I'm just that amazing," you teased, giving Bucky a toothy grin.

He chuckled, standing up, "There's someone else you need to meet," when you looked up, you noticed how nervous he was. He tried whistling again, a different tone, and Aurora slowly got up, still looking towards you with her golden eyes. She curled into a ball beside you but now off of your lap, causing Bucky to groan. "Yep, you're definitely the favorite."

You giggled, running your fingers through her fur as she whimpered happily. "So, who is this new person I need to meet?" You asked happily, grinning up at him.

He smiled bashfully, "Wait here, close your eyes, My Love," he leaned over and kissed your temple just as you closed your eyes. You had your hands on your lap, hearing him shuffling around, and the voice of one of the animal keepers. He came back towards you and placed something small and furry in your arms before taking a step back. "Open your eyes, My Queen," he whispered into your ear, goosebumps raising, and a shiver ran down your spine.

You looked down, gasping softly at the small bundle of grey and black fur, a tiny wolf pup in your arms. You cooed, the pup looking up at you with bright blue eyes, which were just a shade lighter than Bucky's eyes. "Aw! You're the sweetest little thing!" You kept cooing, happily holding the pup close. She whined softly, relaxing into your arms, making you smile warmly at the pup. "What's her name?" You looked up at Bucky who was currently taking a picture of you and the pup, his own heart melting as he saw the bundle of fur curl into your body warmth. "Raine," he said with a grin, already putting his phone away and sitting beside you again. "It means Queen. This cutie was born four months ago, and we were waiting for her eyes to open so she could meet you. In another month, she starts her training and before you know it, she'll be attached to your hip like Aura is to me." He was smiling proudly, and the pup whined softly, diverting your attention to the pup.

"You precious pup!" You kissed the wolf's head, who just whimpered, nudging her muzzle into your cheek. You showered the pups with kisses and affection, practically purring loving words towards them. Both wolves eagerly soaked up your affection.

"Technically, she's supposed to be a wedding gift, but I could help myself." Bucky tenderly pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling warmly towards you.

You launched at him, hugging him and kissing him gently, careful of the wolf pup in your arms. "Thank you! A million times, thank you, Bucky. She's absolutely precious! I love her so much, and I love Aurora so much, and most of all I love you so much!" You gushed, grinning at him.

He gave you a goofy smile, absolutely enamored by you, and he noticed the wolf pup yawning in your arms. "I believe it's this little one's bedtime," he kissed your temple once you two broke apart, and you stood gingerly, still clinging to the pup, walking beside him to put the pup to bed, Aurora staying close to your legs. "And you're welcome, My Moon and Stars," you grinned at the new pet name, your smile making him melt. You put the pup into the fur bed, Aurora curling herself around the pup protectively. "Aura practically adopted her," Bucky explained, taking your hand in his, smiling as the two of you walked back into the castle.

"They are absolutely gorgeous," you grinned up at him, holding yourself close to him. "What should we do now, My Love," you said softly, following him towards his chambers.

"How about a movie? We can finally watch that other movie you wanted me to watch, Moana, and I made sure that we both have tomorrow off." You said goodnight to the guards posted at the door to his chambers, grinning as the doors closed behind the two of you.

"So, an entire day with you all to myself?" You teased him, pressing yourself against the ornate wooden doors. "Sleep in, relax all day, kiss all day," he followed suit, leaning against you, your chests pressed together.

He tenderly laid his forehead against yours, your lips ghosting past each other. "I have a picnic I want to take you on, on this beautiful spot I think you'll adore."

Your lips curled up in a smile, "I'd love that," your hands ran up his chest, mapping his muscles out. "Kiss me, Bucky," you whispered softly, locking eyes.

He tilted your chin up, moving the inch closer to your lips, your lips melding against his. He pressed against you harder as you deepened the kiss; you sucked on his bottom lip, smirking at his resulting groan. His hands wrapped around your wrists, pinning them against the door, making your heart skip a beat.

You broke the kiss, taking a deep gulp of air, your chest heaving against him. Your corset wasn't really helping matters, the restrictive material making it hard to breathe. Bucky noticed, yelping as he took a step back, letting your arms go. "Shit, you can't breathe!" He fussed, his hands freezing right above the lace of your dress.

You nodded, "It's okay, help me out of this thing, before you try taking my breath away again," you teased. You walked a bit into the room, turning and shifting your hair to the side to expose the strings of the dress and corset underneath. You looked over your shoulder, Bucky standing there, frozen in place, unsure what to do. "It's okay Buck, I trust you," you encouraged him.

He stepped closer, but still didn't grab the strings. "I don't want to make you think you have to do anything you're uncomfortable with," he spoke in a meek voice.

"Like I said, My Love, I trust you. If I want you to stop anything, I'll tell you. If you think it's too far, just ask me and I'll answer," you gently led his arms to the edge of the strings. He nodded, tugging the beginning of the strings loose, you let out a harsh breath, instantly feeling better.

"May I kiss your skin, My Moon and Stars?" He whispered softly, his breath hot against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You managed a weak "yes," your body ready to relax against him in total trust. You felt his lips against your neck, just against your pulse point. You moaned softly, the gentle touches lighting your skin on fire. As he tugged more strings loose, he lightly kissed your neck and shoulders. Your eyes fluttered close, melting against him. "Tell me more about courting traditions," you murmured softly.

Bucky chuckled behind you, a bit confused by the complicated corset, but getting the hang of it. "Well, a courting starts with a silent promise written down. The person being courted can only read that promise during their wedding ritual. Any gender can start it towards any other gender and technically at any age, but it typically is done when they are both of age. Courting can take months, or years, or longer. Like how Dum Dum and his wife started courting when they were thirteen, and they married when he came back from the war." He loosened the last few strings of the dress, and you let it fall, now only in the corset and your panties.

"Keep going," you whispered softly. You felt Bucky nuzzle into your neck, kissing any skin he could find while he continued loosening the corset and speaking.

"The person doing the courting spoils the courted person, proving to them and to others that they can provide for them, physically, spiritually, mentally," he paused, kissing right below your ear on your soft spot, making you purr beneath him. "Sexually," he finished the corset strings, which had just enough give to stay on your body.

"Care for a bath instead of a movie? We don't have to do anything," you quickly added, letting your hand slip into his hair, gently carding through the strands. "You could tell me more about the rituals," you mumbled before noticing how silent he was at your idea. "What's wrong, My Love?" You asked softly, turning and quickly holding his face in your hands, running your thumbs across his cheeks soothingly.

He melted against your palms with a small sigh. "You won't like what you see when I am not clothed," he whispered softly. It didn't take a genius to realize he was ashamed of his scars.

"Nonsense, I love you, not for your looks but for your heart," you pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. "We don't have to, this isn't just about my comfort, it's also about yours. Let me hold you close, all of you," he looked down towards you, smiling faintly before nodding.

"I trust you," he whispered softly. Your heart melted, you knew he didn't give out his trust freely, as his trust was more guarded than his heart. You two had made your way to the bathroom, and you turned on the water to the bathtub, turning back towards him as it filled.

You kissed his nose playfully, "No hanky panky," you teased, unbuttoning his shirt.

He chuckled, nodding, "No hanky panky," he mumbled.

You smiled warmly, already letting your hands gently push back his shirt. He visibly tensed as you exposed his left shoulder. The scars where metal met flesh were angry and red, and months of watching the healers patch up others could tell you it was partially self-inflicted. You kissed the scar gently, gauging his reaction. He relaxed just a smidge as he closed his eyes, surrendering fully to you. You let the shirt fall to the floor, kissing every scar along his shoulders and collarbones. His chest was an array of multiple scars and burns; you didn't stop to think about what caused all of them, it was all in the past.

"These scars aren't ugly, My Love. They are your own constellations. They are a map of your past. They mean that you are strong, and you survived terrible things, that you are a warrior." You saw him start to relax as you kiss more scars, practically whimpering as you kissed his skin. His body was well sculpted, made from the gods, is all you could think. Pure muscle, toned, golden skin; you let your hands happily explore his chest and stomach, lightly mapping him out.

Eventually, he melted against you, accepting that you weren't running away or scared. His hands found their way to your hips, running up your back and tugging at the strings of your corset. "May I see you as well, My Love?" he murmured softly against at the shell of your ear. You nodded, biting your lip as he tugged the last string free, letting the corset fall, leaving you in only your panties and the constellation necklace around your neck.

You were a bit insecure, your arms crossing against your chest as you looked away. Bucky's hands stopped you, gently moving your arms away before tilting your face up to see him. "You're absolutely beautiful, doll," he spoke softly. Your nipples hardened from the cold air, a small shiver running down your spine as goosebumps raised on your skin. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, "Absolutely perfect," he mumbled. You whimpered softly, your eyes fluttering close at his touch. He ran his hands down your body, before they found their way to your hips, tugging you in as Bucky pressed his lips against your own. That was heaven, you decided. Soft lips of velvet and a faint taste of coffee and vanilla, you loved kissing Bucky.

Your hands stopped the water in the bath, before blindly tugging at his pants as you kissed him, his hands curling against the band of your panties. A few moments later you both stood naked in front of each other, unknowingly both nervous about what the other would think. You locked eyes with Bucky, gently taking his hand and leading him to the bath. He sat in the warm waters first, leading you in the tub. You sat between his legs, happily leaning against his chest, your fingers already tracing patterns into both of his arms.

Nothing about what you two were doing was sexual, both of you needed the intimacy with each other, reassuring the other was really there. "Tell me more about courting," you whispered softly, leaning your head on Bucky's shoulder.

He smiled warmly behind you, wrapping his arms around your stomach to keep you close. "Well, there are cases of mutual courtship, where both parties spoil each other," he spoke softly, one of his hands leaving your stomach to run through your hair.

"There is?! Why didn't you tell me? I would love to spoil you," you whisper-yelled, turning in his arms.

He chuckled, nuzzling his nose into your neck. "Your very presence spoils me. You're my Northern Star, Doll," he whispered softly.

"I never got the chance to ask you what that means," you carded your fingers through his hair, unknowingly soothing him, his eyes closing.

"There's a part of my story I haven't told you yet, My Love," he kissed your exposed neck, smiling faintly as you purred beneath him. "I've been in love with you since we were younger, the beautiful princess I couldn't get enough of. I had a lot of flings when we were younger because I thought you could never be mine, even engaged I thought you'd only see me as your husband out of necessity and not love. During the war, once Steve rescued me I sat for a month, waiting, healing. During that month I read through every letter you had sent me during the time I was gone, and Stevie even let me read his, all of his mentioned me in some way. It took me the middle of a war, already losing everything, to realize you loved me the way I loved you. After the war and multiple mental breaks, all Steve had to do was mention you and it set me right again. You, doll, guide me back home just by existing, you're my Northern Star." You practically melted into his arms as he spoke, gently curling his hair around your fingers. "Sometimes I believe the reason the crown fell onto my head was so that it may also fall upon yours. The kind yet fierce, loyal and brave, intelligent and beautiful Princess. The woman who was born to be a Queen," he murmured into your neck, goosebumps raising where his breath fanned across. "The sexiest woman in the world, the woman who owns my heart."

You practically whimpered in his arms. You were right, you most definitely would not survive lovemaking with him. He kept his metal hand firm on your lower stomach, dangerously close to your core, which sent heat directly towards it. You tensed, feeling his right hand at your rib, just a hair below your breast. "I promised not to try anything," he whispered softly, both hands freezing, "I just want to hold you."

His voice soothed you, and you relaxed against him. "I trust you, truly I do, I've just never... I haven't..." You fumbled for words. Your cultures were very different from each other. In the Southern Kingdom, practically every one of Noble birth waited until marriage, while in the North it wasn't expected of Nobles to do as such, in fact, most didn't.

"You've never had sex before. I understand, doll," he reassured softly. "I will wait for you. Whether it's on our wedding night or even afterward, I'll wait an eternity for you. I'll never push you to do something you don't want to."

You felt hot tears build up in your eyes, you quickly blinked them away, feeling nothing but absolutely loved. Every time you thought you were at the peak of your love for Bucky, he proved you wrong, you couldn't stop loving this man and he kept proving he absolutely adored you. "I want to, and I want you, wholly and fully. I just don't want my first time in a bathtub." You teased lightly, a yawn almost breaking your words. You nuzzled closer to him, your eyes suddenly feeling heavy.

He chuckled behind you, the vibrations sending warmth throughout your body. "Rest, My Love, I'll tuck you in bed, and we have tomorrow off, remember? All the sleep you want," he kissed your temple lovingly, reaching over and tugging the drain loose.

He stood, quickly grabbing a towel and wrapping it around you, picking you up bridal style. Your eyes closed, content in his arms, quickly approaching sleep. "What clothes would you like, My Love?" you hummed in acknowledgment but smiled playfully, tucking yourself deeper into his arms and not answering. He sighed softly, "You little troublemaker," he teased, slowly placing you under the covers of his bed. You whined when he pulled away, much to his amusement. He kissed your hair, smiling as he smelled your lavender shampoo, "I'll be right back, promise," he whispered softly.

He quickly dried off, tossing on a pair of boxers before joining you in bed. You quickly found his body warmth, snuggling closer to him, letting the blanket between you get pushed away. You weren't scared to be completely naked in his arms, fully trusting he wouldn't try anything, you just weren't quite ready (well frankly have the energy) to do anything tonight.

He pulled blankets and furs above the two of you, elated to wrap his arms around you. He kissed your temple, making you purr in your dazed state. He chuckled, thinking you looked positively adorable. "Goodnight and sweet dreams, My Northern Star," he whispered softly, his voice luring you into a restful sleep.

-

TAGS:

Frozen Heart Tags:

@jsmith509 / @lumar014 / @littlemissporter / @kaylaphantomhive  

@damnbuckyishot / @aveatquevale- / @booksbeforebois  

@marvelgirl7 / @minetticatinwonderland  

Bucky Tags:

@cassandras-musings  / @darkness-doughter / @novaddictx

(Striked out means it wouldn't tag you)

For a tag, just reply/comment, if I don’t see it, just message me. Tell me what you think! Literally, any comment makes me happy! Like, comment, reblog, interact <3

[pocketfulofrogers]

Forever May Be Enough

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: 5 Years after the snap and losing everyone, including the love of your life, you take Scott’s semi crazy sounding plan straight to Tony. Basically bits and pieces of Endgame.

Notes: Endgame spoilers, but in this house we ignore canon. This is my final contribution to @teamcap4bucky summer sun and fun games! I got inspired while reading part 15 of @marvelgirl7 series The Protector. She writes lovely, but heartbreaking stories so in this we have a lot of angst, some Bucky, and a sweet ending.

“It’s not possible.” Tony says simply. “I’m sorry.” He adds quieter. You feel Steve tense, Natasha’ s shoulders fall. You’re almost certain Scott is vibrating.

You however, are frozen. Stuck leaning against the rough grain of a wooden pillar, eyes trained on the lake at the edge of the property. The clear blue burns your throat, turns your stomach inside out. His words swirl around your head and lap at the edges of the last wall of sanity you have left.

It’s the same ones that have haunted you for years. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. They weave their way through your body until you hear them fall from different lips.

Broken consonants and wide blue eyes looking up to you, filled for the first time with true fear. Crumbling fingertips leave ash in the sweat of your cheek as they desperately try to grasp something. Anything. Shaking fingers trail through long hair in an effort to keep him with you and you beg him to hold on just a little longer. You scream for Steve to do something, but you can see in his eyes defeat has already carved its home within him.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky whispers below you.

“Please. Bucky, please.” You beg with a sob, but he disappears anyways. You fold into yourself, howl your grief as you grapple at the empty space before you. Pain sears in your chest and you can taste rust on your tongue. Heaving gasps catch in your throat making you fear you may actually be suffocating. “Make it stop.” You beg.

Steve has to drag you away.

Natasha nudges you and you break from your trance only to see Tony walking away.

“Please.” The word breaks through louder than you intended and wince. “Tony, please.” You add quieter.

“I’m sorry, kiddo.” There are those stupid words again.

He grabs your hand, presses the pad of his thumb into your knuckles, and moves to meet your gaze. When he clocks the cracked skin of your lips, the dark skin seeping beneath your eyes, worry builds in the pit of his stomach.

“Why don’t you stay for a while? Get some fresh air and Pepper can teach you about composting. Would be a great time. Morgan would love it.” Tony offers. When you don’t respond, only look off into the distance past his shoulder seemingly caught in a memory, he looks to Steve. He shrugs a response and slightly shakes his head. They all know you’re not well. You haven’t been for a while, but he’s forgotten how to help you. “We still have a room for you if you change your mind.”

His hand slips from yours and with it, your last piece of hope.

Steve walks to the car with you, his hand on your back. When he opens the door and helps you in, you want to scream at him that you are not fragile, you have not broken, but you can’t form the words.

**

Bruce turns Scott into a baby, among other things, and you excuse yourself to get some air. You were clinging so desperately to this second chance, but the harder you grasped, the quicker it seemed to slip away. Steve recognizes the look of you teetering on the edge and follows you.

“We’ll figure it out.” He says behind you.

Raking your hands down your face, you turn to him. “I know, I know.” You huff out. “This is just bringing everything back up. I guess you could say I’m not handling that well or whatever.” 

“I know it’s hard, Y/N.” 

“I just miss him so much.” You whisper.

It’s times like these he wishes Tony came around more often, or that you’d accept the countless offers to stay at the cabin. Time had allowed for apologies, but Steve still carried the guilt from Siberia and your relationship with Tony had forever been tainted after the accords.

Tony doesn’t know if he hates that he made you choose sides or the fact you didn’t choose him more.

Still, he knew you in ways the others couldn’t. Two souls born of similar circumstances; he was always able to read you. He had taken you under his wing after stumbling onto you what felt like almost a lifetime ago. He considered it his job to look after you, never failing to protect you in battle. Despite you arguing you can hold your own.

When Tony pulls up, seemingly answering Steve’s unspoken wishes, his relief is palpable. But when he pulls the shield out of his trunk to return it, your relief sends you flying into his arms.

He stumbles back, slightly caught off guard. “Oh, thank god.” You mumble into his neck.

**

You travel back in time to New York, get a kick out of seeing a younger Tony again and remind him you are well versed with old man jokes. Steve comments that you sound more like yourself, Tony agrees.

“Hope is a powerful thing, boys.” You smile.

Somehow you manage to hold onto it when Tony tells you they have to try 70s New Jersey for the Tesseract. You try to convince him you should go in his place, beg him to let you do this for him. He smiles softly, shakes his head, and disappears.

**

You mourn the loss of Natasha. It settles deep in your bones and you wonder if this will be the thing that breaks you. Steve, ever stoic, reminds you of what you’re all fighting for and he sounds so much like her.

**

Bruce snaps his fingers. There’re several explosions, you’re drowning on the lower level, and then you’re thrown into the next battle for the fate of the world before you’re even able to catch your breath. It’s a scene from your nightmares and so reminiscent of the worst day of your life.

Smoke thick in the air, an outrider pins you down. Its monstrous face snaps at you with rancid breath and you push back as hard as you can. The moment you think this is it, a bullet rips through it spraying blood into the open air.

“Perfect timing.” You mumble as you push the body off you. There’s a chuckle from behind you.

Oh, you know that voice. It whispers to you light as air on your worst days, sings lullabies when you can’t sleep, ghosts its lips down your neck.

“I’m getting pretty good at saving you.” Bucky quips behind you. You don’t want to look, you can’t. Fears that he will only disappear again will not leave you be. He kneels before you, concern creasing his brow. “This isn’t the best place for a break, doll.”

You finally meet his eyes and the air leaves your body. He reaches for you, a ghost manifested, and you flinch away. It couldn’t be, could it? You hover a hand beside his face, graze tentative fingers down his temple and you ache.

“Bucky?” You whisper, broken. You repeat his name again with more weight.

“Unless you know another handsome guy with a metal arm.”

He catches the tears as they fall from your waterline and you lunge for him. Wrap your body around his, bury your head in his chest, breathe him in. It’s sweat and dirt, but it’s him. Truly him. This moment had taunted your dreams for the last five years.

You pull away to take a moment to look at him. Not a day aged, the same soldier you’ve always loved. He gives you a crooked smile and you trace his lip with your thumb.

“We should really get back to it, darlin’.”

You smile at his voice, let his low timber soothe the scars time has left. “Just a moment, please.” He nods. You lean forward, replace your finger with your lips and revel in the taste of home.

“Alright, let’s finish this.”

**

Pepper clings to you when the doctors say Tony will survive. You hold her and whisper soothing words to hide your own tears. Rhodey takes over for you, ignoring your protests when you tell him you’re fine. The bags beneath your eyes and your bitten down nail beds tell him a different story.

Bucky finds you outside on a nearby bench pulling at the loose strings of your sweater.

“I hear Stark is going to pull through.”

You smile up at him and pull his hand into your lap when he sits beside you. “He’s too stubborn to let death win.” You chuckle.

“Seems that’s something else you learned from him.”

You’re quiet for a beat and he hopes you’ll take this moment to open up to him. You were different, that much was blatantly obvious. You carried yourself stiffer, your tone had become colder. He tried to ask the others, but it had been subtle changes over the years, things they never noticed. Clint even suggests there may have been no change at all.

But he knew better. For you it was five years, but to him it was five hours. He just wanted to help you.

You tilt your head towards him, turn up the corners of your lips. “Good thing, too.” You joke instead.

**

Steve returns with Natasha. You don’t ask him how, they don’t offer.

**

Bucky awakens to you grunting in your sleep. Your fists have the sheets gripped in a vice; your knuckles are white. You mumble something he can’t quite make out before screaming yourself awake. He pulls you to him quickly. Slips his hand in your hair while he whispers affirmations that he is okay and you are safe.

He waits until your sobs slow to just a hiccup.

“Talk to me.” He pleads softly.

You push out of his lap. “I’m fine, really. Just a standard superhero nightmare. Run of the mill. Go back to bed, Buck.” You flash him a smile, all tear-stained rosy cheeks and bloodshot eyes, and his heart still flutters.

He watches you get up for water and finds himself about to lay back down. You had gotten so good at disarming him, he almost didn’t catch what you had done.

“No.” He says before you’ve crossed the threshold of your room.

You turn back to him and raise a brow. “Well, I supposed you could stay up? I’m not your mother.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” He counters.

You advert your eyes and cross your arms before your chest. Bruce had taught him cues to look for when he asked the others for tips. He knew your arms were meant to act as a barrier, which meant he was encroaching on something you didn’t want him near.

He reaches a hand out to you. “Come here.” You don’t budge. “Please.” He adds.

You huff, but walk to take it. He guides you to sit before him, but you’re still unable to meet his eyes.

“You don’t have to tell me everything, or even anything, I just want to help you. Five years is a long time, doll. It couldn’t have been easy to go through.”

You’re quiet, only tracing the metal lines of his hand. He lets you turn his arm over and wordlessly gives you his other when you reach for it. Tony said it was how you grounded yourself. Feeling something on your fingertips allowed you to anchor yourself to something real.

“I’d never tell the others, but I think I gave up for a long time.” You start quietly, keeping your eyes down. “After we killed Thanos and found out the stones were gone. Steve tried so hard, he did, but I think it’s hard to hold someone else together when you yourself are falling apart.” You gnaw on your bottom lip to stop its quivering. “Losing you was the hardest thing I think I’ve ever had to survive.” You barely whisper.

He squeezes your hand in support. “I’m here.”

You clear your throat and swallow down your emotions. “You are.” You marvel. “The whole world said it would never happen, that we needed to just rebuild what we still had.”

“I’m s-“

“Don’t, please. You came back to me and that is all I could have ever asked for. It’s just going to take a minute for me to make peace with the time we lost, but I’m getting there.” You place a hand on his cheek and he leans into your touch. “You just simply being here is more than enough.”

**

He makes you pancakes in the morning. The smell is what wakes you and you follow it all the way to one of the kitchens of the compound. You find him standing before the stove, back facing you. He’s still in what he wore to bed. Sweats, no shirt. The muscles of his back tightening with his movements distracts you enough that you have to shake your head to clear the number of less than innocent thoughts that come to mind.

“Well isn’t this a treat.” You say from behind him.

He laughs and bows before motioning for you to take a seat. He puts a plate before you, topped exactly how you like it.

“Who went out and got all of this?” You ask.

Bucky licks some whipped cream from his thumb. “Guess Natasha had a sweet tooth.” He shrugs.  

You plop a bite into your mouth. “What’s the occasion?” 

“It’s been a while, Tony’s on the mend, Steve’s still set on retiring for now, and the others are laying low. We have to decide what we’re going to do.”

You hum and raise a brow. “Awful big decision for first thing in the morning, my love.”

He nods in agreement. “Still a decision to be made, though.” He takes advantage of you full mouth. “We could stay here, run some trainings, monitor some missions with the new head of SHIELD. I think we’ve earned a break from saving the world for a bit.”

“Or?” You prompt, sensing the word on the tip of his tongue.

“We trade this life for one of our own. A house, a yard,” He lists. “Kids.” He adds quieter.

Your eyes widen. An awfully big discussion for first thing in the morning indeed, but clearly something that’s been on his mind.

“It’s just something to think about, but there is a question that needs answering. What do we do now?” He asks you.

You swallow the last of your breakfast and smile, commit the image of him hopeful and buzzing before you to memory. “Well, we have forever, don’t we? Let’s figure it out tomorrow.”

[emiliachrstine]

late night talk

summary: After losing their father, the siblings enjoy a night filled with alcohol and tears.  characters: madison rogers, john rogers word count: 1785 Notes: It’s not perfect but I really wanted to get some angst out there because I love torturing my ocs. Also I know the summary sucks, please don’t come at me!

tag list: @chuck-hansens, @samwilsonns, @kea-jones, @luucypevensie, @chantelroyal, @dieorfight​

[CLICK HERE IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED]

Madison pushed her glass towards John, signaling for him to give her a refill. He did just that, filling the glass halfway and then poured him one more as well. The two drank silently, both casting solemn glances around their childhood home. It felt different being here now. It no longer had that warmth and security. No, it felt cold and empty. The mere action nearly brought Madison to tears. She swallowed down what was left of her drink and sucked in a breath. “It’s so quiet.” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper. She glanced up at John, who was staring at her with glazed eyes. “I keep thinking Dad’s gonna walk through that door any minute.” She said, sparing a quick glance at the front door. 

John kept his eyes focused on her, not permitting himself to indulge in the same mindset as her. No, he couldn’t. It would drive him crazy. But as he sat there, John found himself agreeing with her. She was right. The house was too quiet for his liking. Usually, his parents would have a vinyl playing on their record player. John eyed the record player in the living room, wanting so badly to walk over and put one on. But he didn’t have the strength. All of his energy had been sucked out of him. Ever since they buried Steve, neither could bring themselves play music. All of the records in the house reminded them too much of their parents. It was too soon for that kind of nostalgia. 

John finally allowed his eyes to wander around the room. They immediately settled on a family photo, situated on one of the end tables. He pressed his hand to his mouth, choking back the knot that had formed in his throat. 

“You think they’re together?” 

Madison’s question made John center his focus. He gave himself a few more seconds to gather himself before looking over at her. Her eyes were red, brimming with tears and he saw her lips tremble. “What do you mean?” He cringed at hearing how hoarse his voice was--the way it faltered at the end. Dammnit, keep yourself together. 

“Mom and Dad,” she clarified. “Do you think they’re together now… in Heaven?” 

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then gave a shrug. “Yeah, I mean that’s what everyone believes.” John felt his stomach twist in a knot, his answer was so cavalier. He didn’t mean for it to be. But the question threw him so far off. He wasn’t sure how to respond to it.

Madison reached for the bottle and poured out a decent amount into her glass. For a moment, she sat in silence, staring at the liquid and thinking about her question. “What if there’s no such thing?” There was no response from John, prompting her to continue. “What if there’s no Heaven… what if when we die there’s just nothing. No paradise. No afterlife, just emptiness.” 

“Why are you even thinking about that, Madison?” John interrupted, he felt his stomach twist at having to hear her talk about it. After just losing their dad, that was the absolute last thing he wanted to talk about. 

“Because it scares me.” She admitted, tears finally spilled onto her cheeks when she looked up at him. “We were always told that we would see our loved ones again, that we would be reunited with them. What if it’s all a lie? What if Heaven was something we created to help us deal with grief, to help make some sense of it. It’s comforting when you think about reuniting with them once you’ve passed. The idea of mom and dad being together again is comforting. But what if it’s all bullshit?” 

John leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, then washed his hands down his face. “Madison,” 

“I don’t want it to be bullshit,” she continued. “I want it to be real. I want to see mom and dad again, I want to see Uncle Tony and Aunt Nat, I just--” She was cut off by a sharp intake of breath. Her hands flew up to cover her face in a vain attempt to prevent John from seeing her cry. But he’s seen it all. “I miss them,” she barely managed to say those words before her body was wracked by a violent sob. “I miss them… I want them back.”

John immediately reached over and took hold of Madison’s hand. She turned her hand so that her hand was firmly resting in his. The two didn’t say anything. John remained quiet so that Madison could have her moment, his grip tightening every time he felt her shake from a sob. Tears burned at the back of his eyes, his chest ached at hearing his sister breakdown. He wanted to join her. He wanted to cry out and curl into a ball. Like he did when he was a child. 

He ran a hand down his face, feeling that his cheeks were wet. When had he started crying? 

Madison finally gathered herself and sucked in a few deep breaths. She had to pull herself together. She felt as if she had been crying non-stop and, frankly, she was exhausted. Madison scoffed at herself, thinking about how ridiculous she must look and sound. Her hand still clung onto John’s, afraid to let go--fearing that she would break down again if she did. “I’m so stupid.” She said, wiping away the stains on her cheeks.

“No,” John shook his head. “You’re not.” 

“No, I am.” She responded and huffed out a wet laugh before continuing. “I was naive… I always thought that Dad was gonna be with us forever.” A painful smile crossed her lips when she finally allowed herself to look at her brother. “I thought it was gonna be the three of us for… a long time.” 

“It’s okay,” John’s thumb rubbed soothing circles on her hand. “Because I thought that same thing.” 

Madison hummed and raised her glass, the smile was still evident, “Look at us being absolute suckers.” She said before emptying the entire glass. 

“Our Dad was Captain America, he was larger than life--makes sense that we would think like that.” 

“He escaped death once by being frozen in the ice for seventy years, you’d think he could’ve avoided death at all costs.” 

John went to reach for the bottle, frowning when he saw that it was empty. He got up to retrieve a new bottle from the cabinet. He pulled the whiskey bottle out and unscrewed the lid, pausing momentarily when he noticed a photo of his parents on the refrigerator. He pulled the photo off and turned it over, the date October 2015 was scribbled on the back in his mother’s recognizable handwriting. When John sat back down at the table, he handed the photo over to Madison who took it after hesitating. 

“I found that on the fridge,” John said, pouring out another round for them both. He could only guess the photo was taken on some kind of trip they went on together. “I don’t remember ever seeing that photo up there.” 

“Dad must’ve put it up not too long ago,” Madison smiled as she examined the photo, then turned it over to read the date. “This was well before I was born.” 

Looking at photos of their parents before they were born, was always a strange experience for Madison. She always thought of them as Mom and Dad which was normal. But there was a time when they weren’t her parents. When they were just two people who, under very unlikely circumstances, found their way to each other and fell in love. It was a rather unconventional love story, one that Jacqueline lamented to her daughter when she was much older. She heard it all. All the good and all of the bad, including the chaos that went down when Jacqueline was pregnant with her. She knew about the way her parents hurt each other, how Steve wasn’t there when Madison was born due to poor choices on both her parent’s parts. The relationship wasn’t perfect, what relationship is? Despite the ups and downs, Madison was always sure of how much her parents loved each other. 

“You know when we lost Mom… Dad wasn’t the same anymore,” she placed the photo down, keeping her gaze focused on it. “He didn’t smile as much, didn’t listen to his records. The only time he was ever happy was if we were with him. But I saw it every time I was with him. He wasn’t the same after she died. It’s like he lost a part of himself. The only thing he wanted was to be with her again.” 

Losing their mother was already painful enough. But Madison and John would agree that it was worst having to witness their father grieve the loss. Steve became withdrawn, unwilling to hold up conversations. Sam and Bucky tried their best to pull him out of it. To get him focused on other things, even getting him to help plan a few of their missions. Steve would help with the planning but it did nothing to pull him from his grief. 

“He just needs time,” Bucky said to both Madison and John. “The only thing you can do for him is just… be there when he needs you.” 

It was a long and painful process for the three of them. While it did get better, they never fully got over what happened to Jacqueline. Then again, grief isn’t something that can be forgotten. 

John’s eyes lingered on the photo, his teeth bit down on his lip in an effort to keep himself in check. God, he really didn’t want to cry anymore. He’s done enough of that the last few days. But like his sister, he missed them. They didn’t deserve to have them taken away so soon. He wanted them back. “I hope you’re right,” John twirled his glass and looked up to see his sister giving him a confused look. “I hope you’re right and that there is a place we go to when we die… because I hate the idea of mom and dad not being together again.” 

Madison reached for her brother’s hand again, already feeling a sting in her waterline. “Guess we won’t know the truth until we bite the dust.” Madison raised her glass, prompting John to do the same. 

They gave a silent toast in honor of the people they lost. For Tony. For Natasha. For their parents. And to the hope that one day they’ll see them all again. 

[succinct-assbutt]

burn me into smoke || Part 7

previous parts: ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE , SIX

pairing: loki x reader

warnings: possible language, jealousy?

summary: it’s the push and pull of the tide, the way they go at each other; despite spending his nights in other girls’ beds, Loki can’t seem to get over how really feels...

                                                            ~*~*~

He goes home with his head hung in shame that night.

 Finds half the team in the lounge as soon as he steps out of the elevator, lifting a lazy hand in greeting before rushing to the stairs. The hurry isn’t out of fear of questioning (at this point nobody asks because everybody knows).

 He turns the shower on and steps right under the frigid stream. Shuts his eyes. He doesn’t feel the iciness in the water, going about with the routine—he washes the dirt out of his hair and watches the suds dissolve between his toes.

 There comes a knock at the door, and Loki has to turn the pressure down to hear them.

 “Loki? Are you there?” It’s Thor, the steady baritone of his voice managing to find him even this far.

 He rolls his eyes and grabs one of the towels hanging nearby (he hasn’t used this room for so long he’s not sure how clean they are) and answers the door wide enough for just his face to stick out.

 “What do you want?”

 “Where were you last night?” His brother asks immediately.

 “Where am I most nights I’m not here? It isn’t rocket science.”

 “With the brunette from the bar? What’s her name—Casey? Christie.”

 “I forget, that was a while ago.” And before that Margot, and before that, as ashamed as he is to admit he remembers, Lyanna.

 Thor is seemingly the only one out of the whole team who knows just how deep this rabbit hole goes, and Loki, holding tightly onto his pride, hopes it stays that way.

 “Why are you here, brother?” He asks Thor, moving about the room—he grabs a pair of black pants and fits his slender legs through them, tossing the drenched towel to the side.

 Thor remains at the door, arms crossed like he doesn’t want to so much as step foot into the room—not that he can blame him. There’s no telling what Loki will do, he learnt that the hard way.

 “To remind you that I’m not going to keep covering up for you. They keep calling, you know? This morning that redhead tried reaching me like six times.” He informs bitterly. “Some go as far as showing at the building, and I won’t have it, Loki. End this now.”

 “A little fun never killed anyone.” Loki tries to remember a redhead he’s talking about, but nothing comes to mind. “Let them call and show up. I’m not here most of the time, anyway.”

 “I am, and it gets old cleaning up after you.”

 He plops down onto the foot of his bed and runs a hand through his wet hair. He casts a quick glance at Thor—an enviable figure, with his burly arms and golden hair and nobility. He’s the reason Loki’s case was dropped and his freedom deemed a fate rather than a far-fetched dream. It’s admirable, the lengths Thor will go to make it seem it’s all out of good-heart rather than saving face.

 Loki tells him this, more out of wanting to be left alone than spite, and it works.  His only company is his own for the rest of the day.

 He cleans his room and shelves his books, until the sky begins to dim and the noise from downstairs gets louder. Most of the team is back now, he can tell. Wanda’s voice floats up into earshot and with it the laugh of whom he assumes to be Banner. Loki tries to ignore them as he slides an encyclopedia onto his shelf, and dusts off his hands.

 Someone knocks on his door, and this time he doesn’t answer.

 “Loki?” They insist. He doesn’t move, wordless, but they’re incessant. “Loki, open up. It’s important.”

 “I’m busy.”

 “There’s someone here to see you.” It’s Natasha, he deciphers.

 Almost an entire minute flies by and she’s about to leave, Loki finds, when he yanks the door open.

 “This better be good.” He says as he buttons up his shirt then follows her down.

                                                        ~*~*~~

When he sees Becca waiting for him in the kitchen, Loki’s sure his heart stops beating for a second.

 She’s smiling at him, like always, and she’s got a tray of cupcakes in her hand she must have nicked from work.

 “There he is!”

 Within a second she’s in his arms, lifting herself onto the toes of her shoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. Loki’s winded. He just stares down at her, unmoving. There’s a sudden deadliness hanging in the air.

 “What are you doing here?” He manages to ask, and her eyes look even brighter when she pulls away.

 “You don’t sound happy to see me…? I figured since we’re always at my place we could change things up a bit. Hang out at yours, y’know? I brought cupcakes for your friends.”

 “These are delicious, Becky.”

 “Becca.” Hands curled into fists, it’s an effort just getting a breath out for him as his eyes find Stark and the rest congregating at the table. He’s got colored frosting on his cheek and for some reason that only adds to Loki’s annoyance.

 It must show. He feels Becca take his hand in hers and looks down at her.

 “Was…” Her eyes grow uncertain, and her words carry a care he’s not used to, “…this a bad idea? Should I have not showed up?”

 “Why would you even do such a thing? I told you I’d call.”

 “You did. I just wanted to surprise you.”

 “Or sabotage me, maybe?” Loki rips his hand away from her and takes a step back.

 The hurt in her eyes doesn’t go unnoticed; they want him to play the part of the villain, don’t they? Pitch forks and eyes ablaze, chasing the next victory and appraisal for defeating people like him? There isn’t any room for guilt. This, he can feel as the anxiety bubbles under his skin, is what heroes demand from him: this is his reckoning.

 A room full of lies catching up with him and the Asgardian can feel the tightness in his chest, eyes flitting left and right. Somewhere amidst the chaos, he finds, is Y/N.

 Crossing the room in her usual gym get-up, drenched in sweat and with one of her headphones dangling from her ear, their gazes meet. Bewildered. He can hear the feint drums and guitar riffs playing in her ipod from where he stands.

 The earth seems to stutter on its axis. Just for a second. Then Bucky holds out a cupcake frosted in the shape of a cat-face, and her eyes shift from Loki’s.

 “Try one.” He watches Barnes hand it to her.

  Y/N turns it over, squints at the misshapen whiskers. Her eyes flicker back for a moment before they move to Becca, and it’s a calculating glance, the longest they’ve acknowledged each other in the past two weeks.

 Y/N looks back up at the cupcake, then at Loki. Then, bitterly, she laughs and sets it down.

 ~*~

He tells Becca to leave as soon as everybody goes upstairs, and it’s the first time Loki has seen her cry.

 “You need to go.” He insists. “Just go.”

 “And then? Are you seriously kicking me out over something like this? I don’t ask for much, Loki.”

 “Neither do I, just that you respect my privacy.”

 “And that we do it with the lights off, or that I don’t say your name in bed, or that I don’t ask anything past your name—why are you so…so…unavailable! Even when you’re there, you’re—“He stops listening at that point.

 She’s babbling and red-faced and for the first time since this started, a guilt has been born inside him, watching a face of rapture melt into an anguish. Becca rubs at her red-rimmed eyes and he feels a pang shoot through him. He misses her smile. The comfort it gave. This? This is the chilling reality that the pep managed to hide, and the illusion is the only reason he signed up in the first place.

 He calls her a cab that doesn’t come fast enough then, placing a kiss at the crown of her head as she ducks down into the carj, heads back up to the tower…

 ~*~

 One of the few perks of waking up in his own bed: Loki can actually have coffee for breakfast.

 Warm and creamy and laced with the slightest hint of cardamom, it’s a beguiling start to his day, even after the night he’s had.

 He finds the pot already made when he enters the kitchen the next morning, bare-chested and groggy-eyed. There are scones and buttered almonds. Some cupcakes from last night sit on a plate on the counter and he resists the urge to bin them as he passes by.

 Pouring himself a cup, Loki almost doesn’t hear Y/N step into the room, startled only by the sudden sound of her voice cutting through his tranquil silence.

 “That’s mine.” She says, and he glances over his shoulder.

 A mixture of surprise—not that she’s here but that she’s speaking to him—rears its head as he gawks at her, frozen. A baggy green t-shirt hangs loosely off one shoulder, hiding most of her patterned boy shorts that peep out from the hem.

 “Sorry?”

 “The coffee.” She says blandly. “I brewed that for myself. I have session later today with Rogers so I’ll need all the fuel I can get.”

 “I just want a cup.”

 “So make yourself one. There’s more beans in the cabinet.” She plucks the pot from his hand and Loki notes the sourness in her eyes, almost more potent today than rest of the days.

 Emptying it into her thermos, Y/N hands him the jug, then screws the cap on.

 His eyes narrow, but with her back turned to him it goes unnoticed. At this point they’re past arguing, breached into a higher realm of passive aggressive silences and moments—like this one—of trivial triumphs over one another.

  “I just wanted a cup,” Loki watches Y/N grab one of the cupcakes and bite into it. “—not a whole pot. Are you really that petty?”

 “Look, I’m not petty, I made that batch for myself so I’m taking it. Besides—“ She turns around, lip frosted pink with cream. “—doesn’t cupcake girl work at a Starbucks or something? Sure she can make arrangements.”

 “So that’s what this is about.”

 “You said she stood you up yet I remember, very clearly, her serving me a latte and buttered croissant that very day.”

 Loki grits his teeth and for a moment he forgets he isn’t talking to her.

 A stifled pride rouses in him instead as he watches Y/N, the line of color on her lip almost taunting—it’s a juxtaposition of his two worlds, a kaleidoscope sunset cast against these raging tides and it’s a little further than he’d hoped this situation would climb

 But he’s here now, regardless. Bile threatens to rise in his throat at the sight, his fists bawling.

 “That wasn’t her I was referring to.”

 Y/N’s eyebrows rise. “Oh? So it’s been more than one mystery woman?”

 “What interests me is why you’re so worked up by it…?”

 He’s trying to keep his cool; there’s still a fleck of pink by the corner of her lips and she grows more ardent with each syllable of her words.

 “I don’t like liars, Loki. You play that guilt-trip card to make it look like you’re more than that, but all you do is prove me right.”

 “I’m not here to argue with you. If you’re jealous, say so, but don’t mask your envy as care for the truth—green isn’t your color.” The words pour out of him as he inches closer until they’re breaths apart, and for the first time since he’s spoken Y/N’s tongue fails her.

 Her jaw drops and the tail of her sentence hangs on her agape lips.

 Staring into her y/e/c gaze, Loki’s not quite sure what he’s waiting for. He’s thrown the punch.

 And in that moment he knows the force it strikes her with, by the way her brow briefly wrinkles like she’s digesting his taunts, by how her scowl falters, before masking the hurt with an angry frown.

 She moves back from him, defiant and a gust of smoke billowing onto him—a flame extinguished.

 His eyes follow her and he doesn’t want it to admit the icy fear crawling up his spine—Y/N watches him with an anger, a determination more than anything that he knows he’s going to regret having sparked with his words, but soon his anxiety dissolves into confusion.

 She doesn’t pounce on him; instead she fists her hands tighter at her sides, retracts into herself and she’s not going to fight. Not today.

 “There’s nothing to be jealous of.” She manages to spit out.

 And then she’s gone before he can get a word out.

 He listens to the heaviness of her footsteps growing softer until he’s sure she’s left the apartment, and he finally lets out the air caged in his lungs.

                                                       ~*~*~

Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed this and would like to follow the rest of this story (only 2 parts left!), like, reblog and/or follow to know when I post the next installment. I’ve been a bit inconsistent but seeing as the next parts are already written out (minus the epilogue) I should be posting them both this week.

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, inbox me

 TAGS: @thegrandmasterschampion ,  @petalparker , @adaliamalfoy , @strangedarkling  , @bit-bot0711 , @malignentmac , @accentsintooblivion , @snailchick , @fandomwritingismylife , @thelovelysoulstealer , @tchilltchalla , @devilbat , @amor67figment-love , @lusty-loki , @missbosstown, @supreme-leader-armitage-hux, @bit-bot0711, @ourdreamsrealized, @jollyfish99, @flowerchild-572, , @smallgloryholes, @honestlyidek-someonehelp , @anonymouscastiel12 , @talinalani , @savkova , @regina-cordibus-vestris , @navybluenicole , @cait3dtl , @aintthatright , @lokisknives36 ,

(ps. I’m sorry if I forgot anyone, it’s been a while since I’ve worked on this story so some of the names might have slipped my mind, lust let me know)