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fanfic-scribbles · 4 years ago

Text

Smile

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Bucky gives you some reasons to smile.

Quick facts: Romance – Bucky Barnes/Reader – Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, puns, cheesy jokes, so cheesy

Words: 3344

A/N: I’m going to admit it upfront, about 40 percent of the time spent on this fic was spent on writing it. The other 60 percent was spent on finding the jokes. Also, this story is semi-inspired by the fact that my face is not nearly as expressive as it feels (I basically look like the polite cat meme when I really try and I can’t do it for long before my face hurts too much) so this goes out to other people who get accused of resting bitch/asshole face. And get written up for it. Anyway, please enjoy this goofy little Bucky/Reader get together.

‘How do you make a tissue dance?’

‘Put a little boogie in it.’

Bucky snorts and coughs when he accidentally breathes coffee instead of air. ‘That’s disgusting,’ he texts back but Sam just replies with an obnoxious smiling face. Bucky shakes his head and goes back to his coffee. It’s actually not so terrible today.

He doesn’t hang out in a dive, but this coffee shop is a type of quiet he almost never sees in the city. It’s too far from the tourism path for convenience and just outside the neighborhood purview where there are many other local (better) favorites. It’s clean enough and decently sized, but it’s decorated like it was supposed to be trendy ten years ago and the place is barely staffed, to match its perpetually nigh-empty interior. There was a short-lived attempt at hiring another person, but after a ridiculous amount of turnover the owners, or whoever, apparently cut their losses and the only constants that remain are Bucky, the lone customer, you, the person actually working the counter, and your manager.

You’re nice. You always speak kindly to Bucky and, when you think you can sneak it, upsize his cup without comment or charge. Also, one time when his glove broke and slipped off, you hadn’t even commented on the arm; you’d even helped him stop panicking enough to see it hadn’t gone far and helped secure it temporarily with a rubber band.

Your manager, meanwhile, is a dick who glares at Bucky and once made a snide comment about him leaning too close to the register, and only talks to you in demanding barks. Like now– but the five minute “hushed” conversation is winding down and soon it will be safe for Bucky to go get his refill.

“I’m writing you up,” the manager says.

You jerk back in shock. “For not smiling enough?”

“It’s what we got marked down for, it’s what’s going on your record,” he says, turns on his heel, and retreats into the back to do jack shit. Bucky glares at his back as he goes. His harsh expression turns to a milder frown when he looks at you, hunched over and staring at the counter with a dead expression on your face.

He looks at his phone, looks at his empty coffee cup, and makes a quick decision.

“Can I get a refill?” he asks when he’s in front of you, startling you out of your stagnant misery. You look up at Bucky and after a second force an unnatural smile on your face. He winces on your behalf.

“Of course,” you say softly, and turn to refill the cup.

When you hand it back to him Bucky shuffles, hesitates, but finally asks, “Why are colds bad criminals?”

You blink. “Uh…why?”

“Because they’re easy to catch.”

You blink again, and then let out a startled laugh. Bucky smiles slightly at the sound, and smiles more at the more natural, smaller turn of your lips as you say, “That’s…that’s a good one.”

“It’s pretty terrible.”

“All the best ones are,” you say, and the door chimes making Bucky break away. But as he watches you talk to the delivery man like normal he nods to himself. He leaves with his coffee to start the day and fires a quick text to Sam: ‘Where do you get your dumb jokes?’

The next day when the door chimes and you see your one regular customer, you let yourself smile a lot more naturally than you have been. Your face is starting to hurt and your boss is probably napping in the back, so you take the chance to relax.

“Hi,” you say. “The usual?”

“Please,” he says, polite as ever as he hands you exact change and you go to fix his cup. When you bring it back he asks, “What did the fish say when he swam into a wall?”

“What?”

“Dam.”

You giggle despite yourself. Bucky’s smile is small and guarded, but you haven’t had a moment yet where you haven’t been grateful to see it. Maybe this ‘smiling’ business is all it’s cracked up to be. If only it didn’t hurt your cheeks so much.

But as he tips his cup to you and goes to his favorite corner, you find you don’t mind the ache as much.

Every time he comes in now, he brings a new joke.

“What do you call a fake noodle?”

“An im-pasta.”

“What does a clock do when it’s hungry?”

“It goes back four seconds.”

“Why did the bike fall over?”

“It was two tired.”

The delivery is fairly flat but there’s always at least the hint of a smile and, you don’t know, it might be his absolute seriousness that sells it, because every one of them raises your spirits. You don’t know why he’s suddenly telling you jokes. For anyone else you might think they’re flirting, but you don’t get that impression here. He’s handsome, always looks put-together in quality clothes even if they seem picked for comfort over anything else, and even before this he has always been unfailingly polite. If he wants someone, he has to have someone just as lovely. Right?

You can’t help but think about it even after he comes back. And the wonderfully terrible jokes, thankfully, don’t stop.

“Why did the mushroom go to the party?”

You keep pouring the coffee while you ponder an answer. “I don’t know,” you decide and lift your head as you hand Bucky his drink.

The way he smiles is very fetching– not quite a smirk, it’s a little too unsure for that, but it tilts up to the side and gives him a boyish charm that would make anyone weak in the knees. “Because he was a fungi.”

It makes a smile big enough for you to feel, but considering how self-conscious you are now you quickly tell him, “I liked that.”

“I know,” he says. “You smiled.”

“You can tell?” Maybe you aren’t as bad off as you thought. Or maybe he’s just being nice. But he seems honest, and he nods decisively.

“I get not being the most…expressive.” He shrugs. “But anyone can still see it, if they look.”

The implication that he cares enough to look stuns you both to silence. He ducks his head shyly and lifts his coffee cup in thanks before retreating to his corner. When you finally have working vocal cords again you say, “Have a nice day.” It might be the first time you’ve ever really meant it.

“What’s the opposite of coffee?”

Bucky’s eyes widen and narrow in quick succession as he goes from surprise to contemplation. He weighs your question with all the dramatic seriousness you could hope for before he says, “I don’t know. What is the opposite of coffee?”

You grin when you say, “Sneezy.”

His smile is bright and he nods his head. “Not bad, not bad.” He leans on the counter, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him. It’s…shockingly warming. You have to remind yourself not to get too close. He showed up out of the blue and he can be gone just as quickly. Just because he’s nice doesn’t mean he has any attachment here. In fact, you hope he doesn’t– you’d question his sanity otherwise. “Why did Mozart hate chickens?”

“I don’t know,” you say, eager to hear the answer.

“Because when he asked them for their favorite composer, they said, “Bach! Bach! Bach!’”

You laugh– that is, of course, when your supervisor pokes his head out of the back and scowls at you. He should be happy that you’re ‘smiling enough’ but you know full well anything you do is never going to be good. You freeze whatever expression is on your face as Bucky’s mood darkens and your heart sinks. “Enjoy your coffee,” you say, infusing meaning into every word. That ekes out a small imitation of a smile as Bucky raises his cup and goes to his seat.

Your supervisor starts to stalk over to you but you are saved by the sudden ringing of a phone, and he blessedly turns on his heel and goes to answer.

You sigh and start cleaning up the counter. Bucky is in his corner, hunched over and quiet as usual. He looks fine, but you feel bad for the interruption, even though you get the impression he understands. Still, this is one nice thing you’ve had in this otherwise miserable job and you’re not going to lose yet one more good person to your superior’s shitty attitude.

You push out a roll of receipt paper, scribble ‘Why did the espresso keep checking his watch?’ on it, and stick it in your apron. You walk over to wipe down an untouched table and, before heading back, make a little detour to drop it next to Bucky’s arm. He grabs the paper as you’re scooting away (plausible deniability in case your boss comes out) but it isn’t until you’re back behind the counter that you realize what that just looked like. Does he think you just dropped your number? He hasn’t opened it yet. Is he trying to figure out a way to let you down? You suddenly regret playing into this so much; he was just trying to be nice, he probably didn’t expect you to latch onto it so–

He opens the paper, reads it, and shoots you a little smirk. You breathe a sigh of relief and mindlessly wipe things down and rearrange well-organized creamers and straws until Bucky comes up for his customary pre-leaving refill. You’re a little disheartened it’s that time already, but it means you’re that much closer to the end of your shift, at least.

“Why?” Bucky asks quietly. It takes you a second before you remember the receipt paper and you surreptitiously check the back to see the door is closed.

“Because he was pressed for time,” you say quietly as you hand back his cup.

He chuckles. “I like it,” he says and takes a sip. “Thanks,” he adds as expected, but then he winks and you…you just stare at him as he leaves.

Should you have dropped your number?

A few days later, Bucky is caught off his guard and pays for it.

“What’s this?”

Bucky doesn’t get to his coffee cup fast enough and Sam snatches it and reads. “Sam,” Bucky grumbles but there it is, Sam’s eyes go wide and he turns that stare on Bucky. “Don’t look at me like that,” Bucky snaps and snatches his drink back.

“You’ve been using my jokes to hit on a dorky barista?” Sam asks and follows him across the room.

“I’ve been using jokes from the site you steal yours from to share with the nice woman who makes my coffee,” Bucky says and sits in a chair. He never stays for Sam’s group VA sessions and he should have left sooner, damn it. “I wouldn’t use yours. They’re gross.”

“Potentially inappropriate for a lady,” Sam says. Bucky opens his mouth to argue but, no, that’s exactly it, even though Sam’s tone implies something completely different from what Bucky would have said. “What’s her name?”

“Bucky?”

Steve has never been more of an actual hero to Bucky than he is right now. Right on time to walk back home with Bucky, Steve wanders in, sees the two of them, and stops. “Oh, should I…”

“Let’s g–” Bucky is immediately stopped by Sam’s hand on his shoulder.

“Bucky’s got his eyes on someone,” Sam says, immediately centering himself as Bucky’s most hated arch-nemesis.

…Okay, maybe not, but if Bucky didn’t have real problems he would be.

“I do not,” Bucky grumbles, because he knows it’s pointless and Steve is immediately sitting in front of them and leaning in like he’s the last girl at the sleepover.

“Really Buck? That’s great!” Steve says. “Have you…are you going to make a move?”

“No,” Bucky says and quickly runs down the situation, hoping that it will clear things up but knowing his friends too well. Indeed, Sam and Steve share smirks before looking at him again.

“You’re a real hero,” Sam says, only partly joking.

“I hate you,” Bucky says, ducking his head down. He doesn’t really blush anymore, if he ever did, but the motion is instinctive.

“You don’t.”

“I wish I did.”

Steve grins, as does Sam, and Bucky wants to duck into a hole. Goddamn mother hens, they’re going to want to–

“Should we come by?” Sam asks and leans back in his chair. “Be real wingmen?”

“No,” Bucky says, harsher than he means to. Sam and Steve don’t look bothered– they’ve weathered worse emotional snaps than that– but they wait for him to explain and Bucky doesn’t know if he can. Because what if this is leading to something? Is he ready for that? He thinks he might like you, but would he be okay putting in the effort of getting to know you? What if he can’t handle it? What if Steve and Sam walk in and they’re all you see? Both of them are plenty distracting, and charming, while Bucky can hardly put one foot in front of the other, some days. And what if this isn’t leading to anything, you’re just nice, and it’s nice, but Sam and Steve find out and look at him with all the pity they can muster?

“I just…want to see it through. On my own. Whatever this is.” ‘Or could be’ he leaves unspoken, because hoping for anything still feels like too much.

“Okay,” Sam says first, because of course he does, but Steve nods along quickly. It’s enough to make Bucky exhale deeply and relax muscles he didn’t know he had tensed. He rolls his eyes and stands up to cover for it.

“You’ll keep us updated though, right?” Sam asks, an easy grin on his face as he lounges in the chair.

“Like I’ll be able to avoid it,” Bucky mutters, finishes his drink, and lets Sam know they’re okay by throwing the empty cup at his head.

The fact that you’re running out of coffee-related jokes is stressing you out. You wanted to keep on theme but too many more days of this and you’ll be scouring the internet for whatever jokes Bucky hasn’t used yet. There are some coffee-related puns, but…the ones you like carry a romantic hint to them, and you were hoping to save those in case Bucky showed any interest. So far you haven’t picked up on anything, but you’re also very oblivious, and your roommate thinks you’re an idiot and he’s obviously into you.

But he might not be.

You do what you’ve been doing since your boss snarked at you about flirting on the clock and get Bucky’s cup ready with maybe your favorite joke.

‘How did the hipster burn his tongue?

He drank his coffee before it was cool.’

And smile proudly at it. Your small handwriting is getting better– Bucky barely has to squint at it this time, and he gives you a conspirator’s smile when he slides his twenty-dollar bill across the counter at you, with the neatest print writing along the margins.

‘What do you call an alligator detective?

An investi-gator.’

It’s cute and you snicker to yourself as you gather his change and place it gently in his gloved hand. He doesn’t retreat to his corner right away, though, and shuffles in place. “I was…I just wanted to say…” But then his eyes glance to your side and his face freezes in an unfortunately familiar way. “Thank you for the coffee,” he says woodenly and raises his cup just so.

“Of course. Have a nice day,” you say as robotically as possible and watch him go. Your supervisor clears his throat pointedly and you pretend like the place isn’t as clean as it was since the last time you went around. But now you’re thinking. About how awkward Bucky looked, and how he mentioned wanting to say something…maybe…maybe he is open. To you. Potentially.

Tomorrow, you decide with a thrill of nauseating adrenaline. Tomorrow you’re going to bring it up.

The next day you arrive at the shop at your usual time in the pre-dawn cold only to find an extra padlock on the door and a note in the window.

You stare, dumbfounded, and read the note. You read it again. And again.

‘Out of Business.’

But nobody called you.

You immediately grab your phone and dial your supervisor’s number. When he doesn’t pick up you call it again because this cannot be real. The job was shit but it was a job, and you knew what to expect, and you’ll never see Bucky again, will you?

It takes almost half an hour for the asshole to pick up– or maybe more, as the sun is starting to show up– and upon answering, he snaps, “What?!”

“What happened?” you ask, just as unkindly.

Your boss grumbles unintelligibly but you wait. “Did you see the sign?”

“I was working yesterday; no one mentioned anything about this.”

“Corporate called last night.” He yawns loudly. “I tried to call you.”

That’s a lie if you’ve ever heard one, but your tongue gets tripped up in anger and he says, “Sorry but there’s no room at the other branches for you, your last check is in the mail,” and hangs up.

You stand there for a while, trying to blink away tears at the sudden upheaval of your life. You should have found a replacement job while you had a chance. You should have asked your co-workers where they were going. You should have given Bucky your number.

You stand there for a little while, debating spending money you shouldn’t on a nice breakfast to wallow in, when the sound of footsteps coming up behind you makes you turn around.

“Oh, Bucky,” you say and rub your face. You think you’ve managed to hold it in, but it’s chilly and any exposed skin feels frozen.

“What’s going on?” he asks and peers around you at the note.

“Um…” You gesture uselessly. “Apparently this location is no longer in business. Just found out.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. “That asshole didn’t even call you?!”

The amount of anger on your behalf startles you. Startles both of you, actually, but just as he’s about to say something you laugh and say, “At least that asshole isn’t my problem anymore.” You sigh. You have savings, and the other job, and there’s always some other crappy job waiting for someone like you. But there’s something here that won’t be, and you pull out your phone and start typing. “Um…Bucky…there’s something I wanted to say to you. But it’s hard to say.”

“Okay?” he asks. You squeeze your eyes tight, brace yourself for impending rejection, and hold out your phone.

‘I like you a latte,’ followed by your phone number, hopefully gets the point across. After a few seconds your phone buzzes and you jump and bring it back, hoping no one texted you anything terrible while Bucky was staring at your phone.

It’s a new number, and the text reads, ‘It’s hard to espresso my feelings for you.’

You look up at him and he’s smiling, mouth parted slightly, and you start smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. But it’s okay. “I only had two more coffee jokes left before that line,” you confess and save his name to his number.

“Maybe you can tell them to me over breakfast? My treat,” he says and extends his arm.

You don’t even have to think about it. “Your treat this time,” you say, and link your arm with his. “In return, I’m going to show you where to get some good coffee.”

“Oh I don’t know,” he smirks at you. “The last place had its perks.”

Lacking a good comeback, you push your face into his shoulder to muffle your laughter. He leans into you, and doesn’t pull away even when you’ve gotten under control.

It’s the beginning of a brew-tiful relationship.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #avengers reader insert #captain america reader insert #fluff #stupid jokes (affectionate)#puns

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yet-another-fan-girl9 · 4 years ago

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Different Worlds (2)

Summary: You’re the youngest Winchester, a girl who needs to show her big brothers that she doesn’t need help. Then one day, on a totally normal vampire hunt that you had all under control, three meddling Avengers come barging in.

Warnings: language, violence, canon divergence, slow burn

Word Count: 2092

A/N: Part two is already here because I have no motivation to work on anything else!!

~*~

Chapter 2: Casper the Cannibalistic Spirit

It came to that.

The Feds were on your ass again. No thanks to Twiddle-Dee, Twiddle-Dum, and Twiddle-Dumber. Your brothers had left you in the bunker for a week while they went to Nebraska and Iowa for a couple of hunts.

Recently there were a couple of strange deaths over in Utah near the mountains. At least four bodies were found mutilated, cut open, and with bites missing. Sounds like your kind of fun so right now you were begging your brothers to let you go check it out.

“Please, please, please, please,” you repeated as you followed Sam around the bunker. Maybe you could annoy him enough that he’ll kick you out. “Pleeaasse! You know that you and Dean are being irrational. We’ve been wanted by the FBI before.”

“Yeah, but you’re also wanted by the Avengers. That’s new.”

“C’mon, Sammy.” You draped yourself dramatically over a table when Sam pulled a book off a shelf. “You of all people know how it feels to be put on the sidelines by a protective older brother.”

“What’s goin’ on in here?” the protective older brother in question asked when he walked in.

“(Y/N)‘s trying to go on a hunt.”

“Please.” You sat up and gave your brothers your best puppy dog eyes. “We can all go together.”

Your oldest brother sighed and said, “What were you looking at?” You smiled mischievously at his question and ran to get your computer from the other room. “That doesn’t mean I’m letting you come!” you heard him shout at your retreating back. “I just wanna know what you’re looking at!”

You made it back to your brothers, computer in hands, and slightly out of breath. Your brothers watched over your shoulders as you dramatically revealed your research.

“So,” you began. “Park City, Utah. Pretty popular tourist place, ‘specially in the winter for skiing and snowboarding. Four people,” you pulled up the news clips of their demise, “all tourists, found dead. Their bodies were totally fucked up. You have your usual mutilation and incisions, but what really intrigued me were the bites taken out of the bodies.”

“What could be up there?” Sam tucked his hair behind his ears and leaned in closer to your screen.

“We can all check it out.” You waited for an answer with anticipation.

“Fine. We’ll go in Baby,” Dean finally answered.

“Great!” You ran off to pack your duffle bag. “I call shotgun, Sammy!”

~*~

It’s been a week since the strange woman decapitated over a dozen people, and Bucky, Sam, and Steve haven’t gotten any closer to finding her. Of course, F.R.I.D.A.Y. had pulled up a juicy cocktail of information on her, but there has been no sign of (Y/N) Winchester, born (Y/N) (Y/L/N) before legally changing her last name.

Her mother had died in a house fire twenty-four years ago in 2000 when she was six. She seemed to vanish for almost twelve years until she, along with her two older brothers, showed up on the FBI’s most wanted in 2012. Bucky did the math. She would have been… eighteen? What happened in twelve years to make an eighteen-year-old girl go on a killing spree with her brothers. Who also happened to have more murders under their belts.

Bucky sighed and the file on the Winchesters on to his bed. He rubbed his eyes with his regular hand and when he looked up, Steve was standing in the doorway.

“Still looking for her?” The Captain nodded at the folder.

“She’s dangerous,” Bucky defended. “Deaths all over the country and she and her brothers are always there. Die in a way that isn’t a natural death and she’ll be there.”

“I wasn’t reprimanding you. I was just here to tell you to take a break.”

“Do you think,” Bucky paused before shaking his head. “Maybe she—they’re…”

“Hydra?” Steve supplied and his friend nodded. “I don’t know. It’s not that much of a spectacle. It’s also not secretive enough.”

“There’s still something going on with—“

Bucky stopped talking when Sam appeared next to Steve, slightly out of breath. The dark-skinned man took a deep breath before speaking.

“Some cameras caught them. (Y/N) and her brothers. In Utah.”

Bucky shot out of bed. “Let’s go.”

~*~

You tapped your foot as the elderly lady slowly scanned your groceries. Your brothers had sent you to the little store next to the motel for a couple of six-packs, candy, chips, and of course, some pie.

The motel room was low lit, especially with the heavy curtains drawn. You walked into the boy’s room, thankfully you didn’t have to share. The only time you did was when Jack came along. Right now Lucifer’s son was being taught angel things by Cas.

“I bring sustenance,” you shouted when you made your entrance.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Dean mumbled. Both of your brothers had their eyes completely focused on their computers.

“Guys,” Sam grabbed your attention. “So get this, each victim was staying in a house that was previously owned by these guys.” He displayed his screen. A photo of a man and woman was surrounded by newspaper text. “The Walkers.”

“So what was their deal?” You placed the groceries on a bed. “I’m assuming they're dead.”

“Yep. Mrs. Walker was stoned to death by some teenagers in 1972.” Dean whistled and shook his head at Sam’s words. “Mr. Walker hanged himself after her death.”

“Poor Mrs. Walker,” Dean said.

“Don’t pity her. The teens apparently killed her because the Walkers had kidnapped, tortured, killed, and ate one of their friends.”

“Guess that ‘splains the bites.” You began to prepare the salt bullets. “Think we have to deal with both of ‘em?”

“Where are they buried?”

“Uh, both in the field Mrs. Walker died in,” Sam read out loud. “The last property they owned and not killed in yet is close.”

“Here’s the plan,” Dean spoke. “Sam, you and I go salt and burn the bones. Need you to watch my back if Mrs. Cannibal decides to pay me a visit.” He turned to you and you straightened your back. “(Y/N), go to the house and see if anyone’s renting the place.”

You nodded and smiled. Back in the game.

“Hi there,” you greeted happily to the woman who opened the door to the Walker’s townhouse. “Can I ask you a few questions? What’s your name?” You heard the Impala drive away behind you.

“S-sure,” the woman said softly. “I’m Miss. Powell.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss. Powell.” Enough pleasantries. “Has there been anything strange happening in the house?” You took in her appearance: bags under her eyes and unwashed hair.

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“I’m here to help. I believe you’re in danger. Can I come in?”

You got to work right away and made a salt circle on the ground. Spirits always thought they were the shit and always blew away the perfect circles you would always lay down, but today you were going to one-up the bitch. Before you sprinkled down the salt barrier, you had some liquid glue in your pack so you used that first.

“And that will stop the ghost?”

You had explained the situation to poor Miss. Powell. She was much more open-minded than some other people you had ‘worked’ with before. She, along with her young son Brad, sat in the center of the salt.

“If you stay inside the circle, the ghost can’t get to you.” You walked over to the fireplace and pointed at the poker. “Is that iron?”

“I-I think so.”

You grabbed it and handed it to her.

“If he gets too close for your liking, swing it at him. Should keep him at bay.”

“The ghost?”

“Or any man in general, I guess.”

Your remark got a small smirk out of the woman. Then, the lights started to flicker and the temperature in the room dropped low enough that you could see your breath.

~*~

Bucky, Sam, and Steve, all in uniform, ran up to the townhouse. Through the windows, they could see the lights flickering rapidly. Muffled shouts and what sounded like a child crying came from inside. What was she doing?

Steve tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t open. It wasn’t locked, Bucky could see the handle turn. They tried to break down the door next. It took the supersoldiers a couple turns each to finally open the front door.

Steve went in first, shield at the ready. Sam and Bucky stood on either side of him. Bucky’s eyes were immediately drawn to (Y/N) standing above a woman and a young boy with a shotgun in her hand. Then he noticed how cold the house was and the circle of white the three people were standing in.

“Hurry the flip up!” (Y/N) shouted. Was she talking to them? Bucky and Sam glanced at each other.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” The response came from a phone on the ground. It must be one of her brothers. “Mrs. Walker’s being a real pain in the ass!”

“Watch your language, Dean there’s a child present.” (Y/N) winked at the kid before she noticed she had company. “Uh, the three musketeers are here.”

Suddenly, a pale man with decaying flesh and a rope burn around his neck materialized in front of Steve. With practiced precision, (Y/N) fired her shotgun at the man. He disappeared and the round bounced off of Steve’s shield.

“What the—” before Bucky could swear, the man reappeared.

This time, Steve was ready and sliced him away with his shield. (Y/N) looked at the shield with a look of awe and confusion.

“What’s going on over there?” Her brother sounded winded and Bucky could make out gunshots from the other side of the call.

“Captain America’s special metal dinner plate can be used against Casper.” Bucky understood only half of the sentence (Y/N) spoke. “What are you doing here?” Now she spoke to the superheroes.

A strong wind blew through the house. (Y/N) smirked at shouted at the ceiling,

“Glue, fother mucker! Can’t get to us.”

The man appeared on the far end of the room, away from the Avengers. He raised his hands and the hardwood floor began to crack. (Y/N) fired her gun and the man disappeared once again. Unfortunately, the floor continued to pull away until the white circle was broken.

The man appeared next to (Y/N) and the next second, she was thrown into the nearest wall. Sam tried to shoot him, but the bullets only landed in the wall past him. The pale man turned to the woman and kid who both screamed. Bucky stepped forward and grabbed at him with his vibranium hand. The man dissipated again.

“(Y/N)?” Her brother was shouting through the phone. “(Y/N), what’s going on there? You said the Avengers were there?”

(Y/N) ignored her brother’s questions and shouted at the woman, “The poker!”

The fireplace poker flew through the air and reached her hand as the man revealed himself in front of her. (Y/N) swung it skillfully and he was gone again. She continued to glare at the three Avengers.

The man appeared in the middle of everyone right as (Y/N)’s brother’s voice shouted, “Got it!”

The pale man took one last lunge at the woman and her kid before he let out a scream and went up in flames. Everything in the house stood still as it warmed up and the lights settled. The only sounds were heavy breathing and soft cries from the boy.

(Y/N) scrambled to her phone. The three men surrounded her, they weren’t going to let her go again. Not without answers.

“Are you boys good?” She said into the phone.

“Yeah. Mrs. Walker put up a good fight though. Threw Sammy into a tree.”

“Would have loved to see that.” (Y/N) looked at the three Avengers. “I’ll meet you at home.”

“Home? That’s—“

“Gotta deal with the musketeers.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep, bye.” She quickly hung up before her brother could protest any longer. Next, she looked at the woman and her son. “You guys okay?” They both nodded. “Sorry ’bout your floor.” Finally (Y/N) turned her attention to Bucky who was standing closest to her.

“You’re not going to leave,” Steve ordered behind her.

“Yeah, I got that,” she sighed. “I’m hungry. Wanna grab a burger?”

“Only if you’ll talk,” Sam requested.

~*~

Tag List (strike though means tag didn’t work):

@grav3dollie-666

#different worlds #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x winchester reader #mcu #marvel #supernatural marvel #marvel supernatural #supernatural #crossover #supernatural crossover #marvel crossover #dean winchester #sam winchester #sam wilson #steve rogers #bucky barnes #winchester reader

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veliseraptor · 4 years ago

Note

Hi Lise, for the 5+ headcanons AU, if you feel like it, how about the A+ parenting AU or Halfway House?

Let’s go with Halfway House for this one! It’s been a minute since I visited with that quartet of disasters cohabitating.

After the fiasco with realizing that he can apparently manifest convincing simulacra out of thin air without realizing that he’s doing it, Loki has basically given up on having any sense of the reliability of his perception of reality. He could be hallucinating all of this! None of it is real! Maybe he is still a captive!

No idea why he would be hallucinating this, but, well, who can say. But his approach is sort of ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ because. what’s he going to do? He’ll just ride this train until the end of the line and see what happens. At least it hurts less than what his reality was before. Also maybe part of it was real and now it’s not? Or parts of it are but not all? Maybe this is all some wacky experiment? Who knows! All he can do is just sort of go with it.

Bucky is just itching to ask a lot of questions about magic. He desperately wants to. That’s the most interesting and exciting thing he’s heard about in ages. He’s not going to do it, though, because he doesn’t want to seem enthusiastic about things too much and also because he thinks it’s somewhat likely Loki would view it as a threat/him looking for vulnerabilities.

Which it isn’t not, it’s just also because he, you know, thinks magic is cool. Bucky is/was a sci-fi nerd more than a fantasy nerd, but a nerd’s a nerd and technically Loki’s an alien anyway.

Loki’s relationship to pain is jacked all to hell at this point even more than it is in canon. He’s so used to basically constant pain with little to no real relief after the last while that he doesn’t even really register low-level pain anymore. This hasn’t necessarily come up in major ways except the part where he just casually put a nail through his hand to do a reality check, but it is there.

Everyone here is very stressed, but it is possible Steve is the most stressed, and probably headed for a breakdown sooner rather than later. The only reason he hasn’t had one so far is Steve’s terminal inability to allow himself to have breakdowns when there are other people present, and there’s been a lot of “other people present” in his life lately.

Sam is pretty sure all of this is going nowhere good and while he does want to support Steve in his quest to...whatever he’s doing here, long term, he’s also kind of hanging around to do damage control if things explode. He’d like to believe that they won’t! or at least not catastrophically! but he’s a little too much of a realist to really be convinced that’s going to be how it plays out.

Too much power, paranoia, and mental instability going around in one small space with an army of crypto-Nazis in hot pursuit. He’s sticking with it out of loyalty more than anything else, and also keeping these thoughts to himself.

It is true that he’s not actually sure what he’s going to do if it goes south, considering the blast radius is solidly likely to include him and he is the one here without super powers, but at least he has some conflict de-escalation skills and medical training, so there’s that.

#valiha #conversating #steve rogers' halfway house #five headcanons meme #aggressively headcanons

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buckysforeverprincess · 5 years ago

Text

Can Our Love Survive? Ch. 16

James ‘Bucky” Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff

Words: 2844

Warnings: Alcohol use, mentions of drugs, violence, parental abandonment, loss of virginity. This chapter has a lot of shit!

A/N: Hello, lovelies! This chapter is told through Bucky’s POV and contains his back story so, I’m sorry about the length, but I thought you should know what he’s had to endure and a little bit about the bull shit he’s had to go through. Hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think!

**TAG LIST FOR THIS SERIES IS NOW CLOSED**

Bucky had been in his own world for days. After the fight, Steve had taken him home and tended to the brunet, making sure he was good and okay to be home by himself. Bucky let the blond know he’d be okay and could handle himself, even said he’d see him at school tomorrow, which must’ve been the right words to say to get the boy to leave. Bucky saw Steve out the door and once he was gone, he let out a breath and pressed his head up against the cool door. There was no way in hell he could ever show his face around that school again after what went down tonight.

It didn’t take long for him to pick himself up and let the guilt and anger take over and he made his way to his father’s liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of Jack and sucking it down, hoping the dark substance would numb the pain he felt inside for hurting you. It wasn’t the first time he’d lost himself in a bottle and it wouldn’t be the last. If his father was going to keep a healthy supply, why shouldn’t he partake? George Barnes either didn’t notice or didn’t care how much of his liquor he lost to his son. Hell, he might notice if he was ever home and wanted to be a better parent to his son, but that wasn’t in the cards for Bucky. No one wants to parent a loser son.

Pounding. He’s not sure if it’s coming from his head or somewhere else, but which ever it is, it’s enough to wake him from the drunken sleep he knows he was in. Reaching out, he grabs his and brings it to his face, opening one eye to check the time and he sees the notifications on the screen alerting him to the missed calls and messages he’s missed, all of them from you. Groaning, he puts the phone back and closes his eyes, choosing to let sober Bucky deal with that nonsense later, however life was not about to let Bucky get what he wanted.

The pounding increases in tempo and strength he realizes it's not in his head and doesn’t appear to be ending anytime soon, so he haphazardly rolls himself out of bed, and makes for the direction of the sound he thinks is coming from the front of the house. Maybe it’s an animal, but what creature could be so persistent and determined to wake him after only a few hours of sleep? Whatever it was, they were going to have words and it’ll be a fight to the death once Bucky gets his hands on it for disturbing his pathetic drunken existence. He hoped they knew just how fucking rude they really were.

As he gets closer to the unbearable sound, it dawns on him the noise is coming from the front door and whoever is behind it is a certifiable asshole for adding is his throbbing headache and he’s had enough of the incessant racket. “I'm fucking coming!” He yells, trying to get whoever’s making the noise to stop but they are paying him no attention and continue to pound.

“Ugh, fuck, stop!” Bucky opens the door and sees Nat grinning with a metal baseball bat in hand.

“Bout time you opened the goddamn door.”

“Fuck, Nat!” Bucky covered his eyes to shield them from the sunlight, too much for his hungover state.

“You look like hell Barnes.” She comments and pushes her way past him and enters the house without his permission.

“Didn't realize I was entertaining guests.” He shuts the door and walks to the living room following behind her.

Nat takes a seat on the couch and looks him over. “When's the last time you showered?” She’s quick to notice his disheveled appearance and matted hair.

“Why are you here?” He counters, not yet ready to acknowledge his hungover state.

“Jack, Johnny, or Jim?” Bucky watches her eyes spot the few empty bottles scattered around in various locales in the living room.

“Jack and Jim mostly, but Jose did make an appearance. Care to join me?” He grabs the bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on the end table where he left it.

“No thanks, I'm a vodka kinda girl.”

Bucky shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He takes a drink of the bottle in his hand, the hard-liquid burns going down, but he doesn't care. The object is to get drunk again and forget this is his shitty, fucked up life.

“You're gonna make yourself sick.” Nat watches him continue to ingest the liquor like it’s Kool-Aid.

“Uh huh. That's the point.” Bucky moves on shaky legs and walks to a recliner, plopping his body down and put the bottle right back up to his mouth.

“What would your girlfriend say if she saw you right now?”

“Girlfriend?” Bucky laughs. “I lost her, so there’s no one around that gives two fucks about me, thank you very much!” Apparently, Nat doesn’t find this amusing and glares daggers at him. “I did what I do best and because of that I’m back to being single again. Got any one else you’d like to throw in my face?” There's anger in his voice, but Nat knows it's just the alcohol talking.

“James, you didn't lose her. She's worried about you.”

“She shouldn't be.”

“James, she loves you. You'd know that if you answered your phone.”

Bucky shakes his head with a smile and takes another drink of liquid courage. “No one loves me. She should forget about me just like everyone else.” He puts the bottle down on the coffee table and gets out of the chair, disappearing down the hallway, stumbling as he goes. It doesn’t take him very long to make it to his bedroom and grab his proof, heading back to the living room and holding out a piece of paper to Nat. “I'm not worth loving.”

Nat takes the paper from Bucky and he backs away until he gets to the recliner and falls back into it. He watches her eyes travel to the paper and her body visibly relaxes.

“James,

I'm going away. Be back in a few weeks. You're on your own for Thanksgiving. Dad. I memorized it. Pretty good, huh? What other kids do you know get left alone for a holiday? None I bet.”

Nat frowns up at James, her face etched with sorrow. “I'm sorry.”

Bucky chuckles and shrugs, trying to play it cool as best as his hungover allows. “I'm not. He could care less if I live or die. I found that note the night of the fight. Came home and the fucker was gone! What kind of parent leaves their kid for weeks at a time and over a holiday no less?”

“Obviously one not vying for parent of the year.” She stands up and walks over to him, kneeling in front of him. “You don't have to stay here, ya know? You can come stay with me or with Y/N and Steve-”

“I can't stay with them!” Bucky is quick to interrupt. “I hurt someone in their home, I can never go back there…I'm not welcome anywhere!” He breaks down and tears begin to well up.

“Hon, you are welcome. Why do you think I'm here?”

“Cause I beat up your boyfriend and you want to extract your pound of flesh?”

Nat’s the one chuckling now. “Ex-boyfriend,” she corrects, “I couldn't condone the words he said about Y/N.”

Bucky nods and relaxes, some of the previous tension at seeing the red head fading with her admission. Sam’s words that night hit him hard. He couldn't imagine how Y/N felt about them. “How is she?” He asks, his guilt beginning to eat away at him for ignoring the call and texts. Bucky knows he should’ve answered them but he was scared to to face the truth of his actions costing him the girl he knows he already loves so deeply.

“Honestly… not good. She hasn't been talking to anyone and starting to withdraw again. One thing’s certain, she misses the hell out of you.”

Looking down at Nat, he throws Nat his best attempt at a smile. “I miss her too.” He gets up from the and walks over to the window, stares out at the front yard. “She deserves better.”

“You are her better!” Nat pushes up from the floor and moves to stand behind him. “She’s so happy with you. You've made her happier in the past month than anyone ever, including her twin. Y/N loves you and needs you right now just as much as you need her!”

Bucky turns around to face Nat, a fierce determination in his eyes. There’s something he has to say and if he doesn’t do it now, he may never have to courage to do so ever again. “You should sit down.”

“I just got up.”

“Natasha… sit.” He commands. Nat hesitates for a moment but does in fact do what is ordered, her eyes stay glued to him.

Bucky takes in a deep breath and lets it out, centering himself for the tale he’s about to tell. “I was born here, lived in this very house with my mom, dad, and sister. Dad was an ass hole, but he provided for his family without fail and we never wanted for anything. He was the kind of guy that spent more time at work than at home and when he was home, none of us were ever good enough for Mr. Perfect, George Barnes.

There were good times, like holidays and vacations, but more often than not, things were bad. I swore he never liked us. He would always comment on how embarrassing we were or how grateful we should be to him. He often told me I'd never amount to anything and I'd be lucky if the Army took a loser like me. I was only eight when he said those words to me.

I can’t remember if he was always angry or he became angry as time went on. Maybe it was work or maybe he no longer wanted a family. Whatever it was, he never stopped yelling and fighting, constantly making my mom cry until one day she decided enough was enough. She filed for divorce and we moved to Indiana with my grandparents, never looking back or wanting to mend things. I was ten when we left, and I could see dad didn't care. He was free and no longer had us to burden him or hold him back. And we could now move on and live our lives with George Barnes.

Indiana was great and I had some amazing friends. They never thought I was a screw up and thought I was cool because I came from Brooklyn. We smoked, drank, got high, did all kinds of shit kids do, but God, we were idiots. We got busted a couple times breaking into houses just because we were bored, because in small town Indiana there ain’t shit to do and idle hands and all.

You’ll never believe I lost my virginity to the sheriff's daughter. We were both high from the joints we got from our friend, and neither of us knew what we were doing but it still happened, and I fucking hated myself for it afterwards. It’s something I can never get back or do over no matter how much I wish I could. My first time will forever be tainted in my mind.

So, imagine my surprise when a month after losing my virgin status, my partner comes to me and says she’s pregnant. I freaked the fuck out and panicked. I was fourteen! What did I know about raising a kid? I didn't even know I could make one. I had no idea what to do, so I got drunk and stole a car. I was planning on driving as far away as possible and never fucking returning to this hole in the wall town for as long as I lived, but my plan was short lived. I didn't make it too far because I couldn’t legally and ended up crashing the car through the town’s grocery store window causing a fucklaod of damage I could never afford to pay back. I got charged, had to pay fines and do community service. Mom and dad were so mad… try having to endure that wrath. Eight out of ten would not suggest it. Come to find out, she wasn't even pregnant and made the whole thing up. It was seriously the beginning of the end for me.

Then mom got a boyfriend. He was nice at first. They dated for a while and eventually said she was in love and they were gonna get married. I wasn’t excited because I knew he didn't like me but there wasn’t anything I could do. I wasn’t about to fuck things up for her because I thought she deserved a good life after what our dad put her through. I just didn’t think I was the one that would pay the ultimate price for my mom’s lack of judgement.

He started to get violent. Mom said it was nothing and told us not to worry. We knew better. We could see the bruises and marks he left behind. She told us he was just going through a rough patch and he'd change, but it was a lie because abusers never do. I’m pretty sure he forced her to lie, but what do I know? I’m just a dumb kid, who’s gonna listen to me anyway?

One night, I came home drunk, which was a constant state I might add given everything I had to endure in that god forsaken town. When I walked inside, I heard her boyfriend yelling at her. I tried to walk away, but I heard him hit her and I got angry. I couldn't take it anymore and my drunk fueled anger got the best of me and the next thing I know, I'm sitting I the back of a police car while the police question my mom about what happened. I didn't remember beating the shit outta him. He was unconscious and rushed to the hospital. My mom told them I was drunk and just beat him. She never told them about what he’d don’t to trigger the beating or the repeated abuse she was receiving at his hands. My mother hung me out to dry and abandoned me, holding steadfast in her story, protecting the man she’d known for a couple of years and not the child she carried for inside her for nine months.

In the end, my dad was called and flew in from Brooklyn. My choices were stay there I do jail time, or I go back with my dad and never step foot in that little town again. Either way, I would have been neglected so, why not do it with the option to be free? I chose Brooklyn and as you can see, not much has changed for me. I'm so fucked up and no good for anyone! All I do is hurt people... that’s all I’ll ever be good for.”

“You never hurt me.” Nat and Bucky turn to see Y/N standing in the living room.

“How much did you hear?” Nat stands and heads over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“Enough.”

“Why are you ignoring me?” She look at him with soft eyes.

He's now sitting on the couch with his head in his knees. “I'm a fuck up.”

Moving closer, she sits beside him on the couch and rests a hand on his leg. “I don’t think that about you.”

“You should. I don't deserve you! You shouldn't want me… I’ll only hurt you. Just go! Leave, like every else! Go!” He yells, his eyes filled with tears.

“Y/N, he's drunk, let's just go.” Nat grabs her arm, but she pulls away from her.

“I'm not going to abandon him like everyone else. That's most likely the reason he’s drunk.”

Hearing your words warms his heart. Bucky knows he shouldn't have lashed out at you like that. Just another instance of him being a dumbass.

She takes her hand and places it on his cheek, caressing it softly. “Do you love me, Bucky?”

The tears have started to streak down his cheek, all the emotions hitting him at once her can’t hold them back any longer. “Yes…,” he whispers.

The response makes her smile and she leans in, kissing him gently on his lips. “Do you trust me?”

Bucky hesitates for a moment, nodding his head with a half-smile. “More than anyone.”

She stands up in front of him and holds out a hand her hand in offering. “Good, cause I'm not leaving here without you. You're coming home with me.”

Even half drunk, he knows the key to his future is standing in front of him and all he has to do is take her hand.

COLS TAGS:

@ellallheart @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @bookgirlunicorn @widowsmaximoff @jhangelface0523 @broco8 @eliza5616 @nighttwingg @bloodyproudpotterhead @sexyvixen7 @marvelismysafezone @orions-stars3 @ava1453 @beardburnsupersoldiers @afterlaughter27 @booboobella01

Forever Tags:

@jamesbarnesappreciationclub @kruscht @palaiasaurus64 @breezy1415 @sarahp879 @supernaturaldean67 @averyrogers83 @scarlettsoldier @lovely-geek @titty-teetee @geeksareunique @peaceinourtime82 @leosandbuckysgirl @the-goddess-of-mischief @mychemicalimagines @awkwardfangirl2014 @collette04 @notyourtypicalrose @onebatch--twobatch @miraclesoflove @kcd15 @xxloki81xx @death-unbecomes-you @thatfanficstuff @hotoffthepressfics @chuuulip @unlikelygalaxygiver @lancetuckershairgel @babypink224221 @mybabe-buckybarnes @shield-agent78 @the-real-kellymonster

#bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #jame barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #natasha romanoff #can our love survive

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shadowsof-thenight · 5 years ago

Text

When she least expects it - 2

Summary: When Rebecca’s relationship comes to an abrupt and painful end, she finds herself without a home. With her brother currently stationed in Iraq, she turns to the one person she knew she can always depend on—Steve Rogers.

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, sadness, mentions of cheating

Ship: Steve Rogers x OFC—Rebecca Barnes

A/n: This was written for Star’s Follower Celebration. The prompt was a roommate AU.

Series Masterlist

***

Chapter two

A few blissful moments of ignorance were all Rebecca got when she woke up the following morning. She stretched her sleepy limbs with her eyes still closed—her mind still empty and peaceful. For those moments she was infinitely content. Then she dropped her arms on the pillows that surrounded her head, and she picked up the scent of freshly washed linen. This was not her brand, she realised, and reality came crashing down in painful waves. She quickly opened her eyes and recognised the apartment as that of her brother—the off-white walls would most certainly not have been her choice for this space. Her heart instantly hammered in her chest as she remembered all that had happened, and she tried to distract herself by taking in the room. There was a significant lack of personal items and too many of his things were still stored in boxes. She knew why—he’d spent shockingly little time in this apartment since he and Steve had bought it. It had been nearly two years since then, but Bucky had spent two thirds of that overseas. Six months ago, Steve opted to train new cadets as his next career move. It gave his life more stability and Rebecca had welcomed his more consistent presence in her daily life with open arms. Bucky had not been ready for the change, and she still wondered when he would be.

She glanced at the nightstand to her right, expecting to find a picture there—one of her and Bucky—and found it to be missing. Nothing but an alarm clock remained on the clean surface. It occurred to her that he must have brought it with him, and it sent a jolt through her aching heart, acting like a balm for the broken pieces—he valued it as much as she did. No matter how lonely she felt or where life took her, she knew she was never truly alone. Her brother would be there. Or brothers really, since Steve had shown no intention of leaving, and after more than 20 years, she didn’t think that would ever change.

Rebecca allowed herself a few moments to wallow in all the emotions that were coursing through her body. There was still so much to be grateful for—she knew that—but it was hard to ignore the pain this early in the morning. She was in a safe and comfortable place, if not exactly where she had hoped to be at 25. With a groan, she pulled one of the pillows tight over her face to muffle the scream that had been building in her throat. She was angry at her circumstances, but even more so with herself, and she was actually straining to keep herself from screaming repeatedly. However, she did not want to wake the wonderful, generous man that resided in the room down the hall.

Finally she got up from the bed and grabbed the warm sweater she had discarded last night, pulling it over the tank top she had slept in. Checking the time, she wondered briefly if Steve’s routine had remained the same since changing positions. He would often get up at ungodly hours to run laps in the nearby park. She reckoned he still did, and that meant that he would be back by now, so she braced herself to greet his concerned face. Life could not be ignored, and she figured she’d better face the music swiftly.

Steve was patient and kind; he would not press too much. However, he would eventually expect a better explanation than the “he fell out of love with me” shtick she’d pulled last night. She was not the kind of person to put things off, just because they were hard, though she had become a master at evading talking about her deepest emotions. She would much rather keep up a mask, pretend she was fine. Not that she had any qualms about Steve falling for it though; he always did see right through her. The perks of knowing one another for so long. She wondered how he would react to the story and wondered briefly if she could lie to him. It had never been her strong suit, but the truth seemed a little too much to share. Perhaps she could find a happy middle and hope he would not dig any deeper.

“Hey.” His deep voice greeted her as soon as she stepped into the living room. He stood by the counter, throwing his favourite cereal in a bowl before adding milk. He was still dressed for a work out, though he had discarded his shoes—they were likely dropped by the front door. He never wore shoes inside. The deep blue of his damp shirt brought out the brightness of his eyes and she admired it for a short moment. His skin was glistening and she realised he must have only returned moments before. She was surprised that he had not deviated from his routine after their late night chat. The clock had only just struck eight—he must have gotten very little sleep.

“Hi,” Rebecca replied, her voice still groggy with sleep.

She walked up behind him, reaching to grab a glass from the cupboard by his head. Steve dutifully stood stock still for her, an amused smile on his lips. She filled the glass with water and chugged it. Steve said nothing—he just grabbed a spoon from the drawer to his left and turned to lean against the counter. In silence, he observed Rebecca as she moved around the small space, careful to avoid stepping on his bare feet. She had never been known for her light steps. She downed a second glass of water and turned to the fridge to check it’s contents. She had never been big on breakfast, and after finding nothing to entice her, she opted for an apple. She knew better than to try Steve’s tasteless, though undoubtedly healthy, grains. She needed something a little easier on the taste buds. When she moved past him to make her way to the couch, she still had not said a word.

“Sleep well?” He finally asked as he followed her out of the kitchen.

Plopping down, she pulled her legs under herself and curled up in a corner as she munched on the apple. Steve chose a different approach. He stacked some pillows and, half sitting against them, stretched out on the long side of the couch. She chuckled. Knowing him, he had pushed his muscles to the limit—he would need to lie there for a minute.

“Sure.” She shrugged, choosing not to tell him of the uneasy hours filled with twisting and turning. It took a long time before she’d finally succumbed to a restless sleep, and even then it had been filled with unintelligible dreams. She’d woken up far too quickly.

Steve sighed, pushing out a humourless chuckle as he took in her evasive behaviour. She never outright lied, but he could tell when she wasn’t telling him the whole story. She’d always been a master of it, dancing around subjects and twisting truths. It had gotten them out of trouble quite a few times when they were younger. He knew better than to let her get away with it now, but he wasn’t as confrontational as her brother would have been, and he didn’t know if his approach would work best. Still, it was all they had until Bucky returned in a few months’ time, and he certainly wasn’t planning on waiting that long to get answers.

“Talk to me,” he said softly. “Please!”

With his breakfast done, he placed the bowl on the table and shifted to look directly at her. A sigh escaped her lips as she struggled to find the right words to tell him. She didn’t want to blurt it all out, fearing regret, worrying he might get angry. Finally, she opened her mouth, ready to spout a little white lie to hold him off until she was ready to dive deeper into the subject, but then they were interrupted.

Frantic knocking resounded through the hallway, drifting into the living room. They shared a confused look. Whoever was at the door was impatient. It was far too early to deal with that, she thought. Steve grumbled, annoyed with the interruption, and he stood to answer. Rebecca listened intently, trying to figure out who it was without having to go look. However, no words were spoken and seconds later, Rebecca had to jump up when someone burst into the room. An angry redhead pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, angrily telling her off for not calling her. Rebecca needed a moment to figure out why she was supposed to have called Natasha. That was until she realised that her friend had known where to find her. She must have been made aware of the break-up, which confused Rebecca—Steve would not have told her yet, and why on earth would Jack even try to get in touch with her in the first place?

She leaned into the hug, returning it as she tried to suppress an amused smile at Natasha’s apparent inability to decide between comforting and chastising. Rebecca caught Steve’s stare over Natasha’s shoulder and saw her amusement reflected in his eyes. He was struggling to keep from laughing.

Natasha was always a force of nature—intense, a tad unpredictable at times, strong willed, and fiery—but she also had a killer poker face. And she was one of the most loyal people in the world. Rebecca was incredibly lucky to have her as a best friend.

“How did you know where I was?” Rebecca asked when Natasha finally stopped grumbling. They stepped back from one another and Rebecca dropped back on the couch, resuming her previous position. Natasha sat beside her, and Steve moved to the kitchen and began brewing a pot of coffee for Natasha and himself, along with some tea for Rebecca.

“Jack called me,” Natasha offered, and Rebecca could see the anger brimming under the calm facade her friend showed. Foolishly, Rebecca momentarily wondered if Jack regretted his decision. Natasha’s next words put a stopper to that. “He wanted to tell you that you needed to pick up your things ASAP.”

“And he called you?” Steve asked, incredulous. He wasn’t aware that Rebecca had turned off her phone the moment she had left her house last night. His house really. Though she had called the apartment home for quite some time, her name had never been on the papers. A stupid decision, she realised now. It meant she had lost the roof over her head, while he lost nothing. And he deserved some inconvenience after his appalling behaviour.

“That’s what caught your attention?” Natasha countered, before turning to Rebecca. “He seemed in an awful hurry—seeing as you were still an item 24 hours ago. Care to tell me what happened?”

Steve went into high gear as he poured the drinks and handed them to the women before sitting down on the couch again. As he sat, he stared intensely at the beautiful brunette that had turned up so unexpectedly the night before. He was increasingly curious to know what had happened.

Knowing she would not be able to avoid answering the two people in front of her—they were a great interrogation team— Rebecca settled in, tea in hand. Memories instantly flashed through her mind as she tried to grasp the moment where everything had changed.

Jack was a good-looking guy; women turned their heads when he walked by, and Rebecca had been surprised that he even noticed her. She wasn’t insecure, merely realistic. She was pretty on a good day, not beautiful like him. All too soon, she’d noticed his arrogance, but she’d also noticed his boundless humour. He always managed to make her laugh, even on a bad day. When they had first started dating, sparks flew. They quickly fell in love and had a hard time keeping their hands off one another. The problem with sparks was that they either faded quickly or ignited a fire, and with the combination of their characters, it was mostly the latter. The fire had been so beautiful, all consuming, wild and entirely uncontrollable. Rebecca didn’t understand why it had taken them so long to combust, or why she had not gotten out sooner. She had allowed herself to get burned, and she would have to carry that with her.

In the years they had been together, their good times had been as bountiful as the bad. They’d been like cats and dogs—unparalleled shouting matches would resound in their home, followed by equally passionate make-up sessions. Those had been enough to make the most stoic person blush.

Jack had been jealous—he even had trouble accepting Steve in her life—and he was a little controlling at times, while Rebecca had a desire to feel free, and her sharp tongue had all too often aggravated him. Looking back, they really hadn’t been a good match. Hindsight. Their fights had never gotten physical, but they were still intense and draining. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he moved on, but it had been. Especially since he had forgotten to tell her. In fact he had forgotten to do so for months.

With his desire to rid his place of all things Rebecca, she realised that he was already thinking of letting another woman into it. That was a hard pill to swallow. She could not understand how his feelings had so easily changed. They had been together for years and until the very end, they had been…passionate. Damaging and wrong as well, yes, but the passion had not diminished—not even those last few months. She should be happy to be rid of him, she knew, but it would take some time for her feelings to catch up to that knowledge.

The first step would be to inform her friends of the information she had found out last night; Jack had been having an affair for the past four months. He hadn’t told her—she had found some receipts she couldn’t account for. He hadn’t even blinked when she confronted him, and he’d simply admitted that he was over her. There had been no emotion, no care, and that was what had truly broken her heart. She had invested so much of her heart into this relationship. Her relationship had not been perfect, she was well aware of that, but to have it end as it did—it was hard.

Rebecca didn’t spare herself as she recounted the gritty details, and tears were streaming down her face by the time she finished her tale. It had not been easy to do; she felt too much like a failure, and she had more pride than was good for her. The people sitting with her knew her so well, and she couldn’t hide her feelings from them. Which was why she had laid it all out for them, despite how tough that was. There was no putting on a brave face with Natasha and Steve—they would see right through it. They asked questions, prodded a little deeper, and broke down her walls.

Natasha pulled her close in a sideways hug, while Steve dropped to the floor in front of her and grasped onto her hands with a gentleness that only increased the flow of tears. They were so kind and understanding, but they didn’t understand the failure that seeped in her veins. Still, they would support and love her through this, and she knew this was the best place she could be right now. The only thing to make it better would have been her brother coming home. Alas, she would have to wait a few more months.

***

The days after her confession were spent in a whirlwind of emotions. Rebecca could not remember when she’d last cried this often. Nor had she ever before switched between emotions quite so easy. Anger, sadness, and bitterness swapped each other out in such quick procession that it took her by surprise.

Three days after leaving the place she had called home, Rebecca made plans to pack up her belongings. With the help of Steve, Natasha, and Natasha’s boyfriend Sam, this was all to be done in a single afternoon. Too fast to grasp it, but it was all she was willing to give it. Jack had promised to steer clear of the place, and she was happy for that much at least. She wouldn’t have felt certain that Steve would not attack him. The blond soldier was so angry with Jack. For her, he had been a saint though. Through her erratic behaviour, through her flailing emotions, he had remained the same protective, patient friend. Even then though, she cussed him out over the most ridiculous things—the other day she had gotten angry at him for cleaning the apartment. She had left papers strewn all over the place, and he had stacked them into a neat pile on the table next to her laptop. Rebecca had always been more messy than the two men, but she always told them that there was a system to the clutter, and when he had cleaned, Steve had paid no mind to her system.

She knew she had been wrong the moment she had opened her mouth, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. He didn’t deserve it, and she would have to find a way to make it up to him later on. But, Steve had just accepted her anger, almost taking it in stride. He pushed back the bare minimum and remained eerily calm—at the time, this had pissed her off even more. Now she just wanted to know how he had managed it—perhaps he had some tips on anger management he could share with her.

Steve found himself shocked by her behaviour; he had never seen her like this, and though he tried to be understanding, it was hard. He accepted her anger and her pain, going back and forth between consoling and pushing back gently. However, it was putting a strain on him, and he hoped it would get better soon. He didn’t know how he could best help her—he was a fixer and he couldn’t fix this for her. She wasn’t talking about her feelings, at least not to him, and his hands were tied. She would need to work through these phases of grief on her own, and it was hard to watch—even though he understood that this was what she needed.

He was incredibly happy when he finally noticed her return to her normal self, slowly but surely, over the course of weeks. Her emotions levelled out, and she started to find little things to laugh at again. The sadness came less and less and her teasing nature returned. She teased him mercilessly and Steve couldn’t have been happier to be embarrassed.

#Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers Fanfiction #Steve Rogers x OFC #MCU fanfiction #When she least expects it

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jewels2876 · 5 years ago

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Three Faces of Seb

A/N: Based on an Anon request for the @the-ss-horniest-book-club that wanted to see Seb run into some of his characters - And this is me, I can’t do anything without a little twist somewhere! Happy reading!

Word Count: 1528

Warnings: swearing

Seb tried his hardest not to pay attention to people on the streets of New York; faces blurred into the crowds so it was easier to pretend no one was there. But standing on the corner of E 161st and River Ave, a man’s face stared back at him. Not any man’s face, HIS face. Before Sebastian could do anything more than blink, the face vanished into the throngs crawling the streets. Weird, he thought to himself.

That same day, a call came in that changed his life forever. Sebastian decided to call up his group of buddies to plan a little celebration for his role as James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes; they decided to meet up at a bar in downtown New York.

At the bar, his buddy Chase ribbed Sebastian good-naturedly, saying the role of Bucky was going to be one of those “blink and you miss it” kind of things. Sebastian wrinkled his nose and made a face before barking out a laugh. “Ok, sure Chase. Wanna put down money on that now?”

Sebastian’s trainer Don choked on his water. “Considering what kind of shape you wanna be in for this role, I HOPE it’s not a flash in the pan for ya!”

Another one of Seb’s friends Will motioned for a bartender as he shook his head at the guys. Then he did a double-take and hit Sebastian in the shoulder impatiently. “Dude,” he whispered. “Dude!” He said more loudly.

Two brown heads and two pairs of stormy eyes looked at Will. The one behind the bar smirked as he pulled out four shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. “Hey there,” he smiled at Will then glanced down at Seb. Both guys did a double-take. “And hey there handsome,” he drawled staring at Sebastian now. “Do you have a name to go with that pretty face?”

Sebastian blushed but smiled at the obvious flirting. “Sebastian, Seb. And you are…?”

“Jack,” he practically purred.

“Nice to meet you Jack!” Seb took one of the shots and cheered with Chase, Will, and Don before downing it quickly. All four thanked Jack and headed back to their couch along the back wall.

“Dude!” Chase laughed. “I didn’t know you had a twin!”

“Neither did I,” Seb commented. I’m gonna have to talk to mom this weekend, he told himself.

Atlanta was brutal. Seb was standing there in full ‘Bucky’ gear in 90º heat, sweat making the leather stick uncomfortably in places he didn’t want to draw attention to. One of the brothers yelled cut and he ran to the nearest fan, letting it blow through his beard and hair. Chris Evans approached and hip-checked him with a grin. “Quit hogign’ the fan!”

Seb threw his head back before moaning. “Fuck no! I’m broiling in this thing.”

“And I’m not?” Chris indicated the plain dark navy suit on his body. “Move over at least.” Seb moved one tiny step; Chris rolled his eyes and laughed as they both tried to cool off.

“We’re shutting down for the day,” a Russo said as he/they approached Seb and Chris. “We’ll pick back up tomorrow morning, bright and early. Maybe we’ll miss some of the heat?” The Russo walked off as Seb and Chris both heaved sighs of relief. Both headed back to the wardrobe department and were back in t-shirts and shorts in record time. Anthony and Jeremy joined them, heading to Starbucks for a shot of espresso and air conditioning.

Starbucks was packed when the four men got there; apparently, they weren’t the only ones to have a similar idea. Just as Seb was reaching out for the Americano, 1 cream and sugar, extended to him, a solid body bumped into him. Thankfully no coffee was spilled but Seb turned to the person to make sure they were ok. The red jacket nearly blinded him as the guy started to complain. “Can’t people just watch…” Seb was ready to shoot back a smartass comment when their eyes met. No fucking way, Seb thought, this can’t be happening again!

Anthony took Seb’s drink along with his own and glanced at the two guys. “Something wrong?”

The guy in the bright red jacket smirked. “Nope, nothin’s wrong here. You?” He pointed at Seb with the hand not holding onto a huge to-go cup.”

“Hi, I’m Seb,” he offered instead of answering the question. “Where do I know you from?”

Anthony looked at bright red jacket guy with a smirk. “Seb, don’t you know your celebrities? This is Lance Tucker, men’s gymnastics god and Florida’s newest and hottest coach.” Chris and Jeremy also greeted Lance as they approached the end of the line. Lance gave everyone one last smile and left quickly.

Seb took a seat at the closest table and shook his head. “Don’t you think that guy looked like me?” All three guys laughed and started teasing Seb about his first ‘starstruck’ run-in. But I swear he looked like me, Seb kept telling himself.

Endgame was wrapping up. Seb couldn’t tell you how he was involved in the movie but he had been interested in the lines he had and how it would all come together. His cell phone vibrated; an unknown number appeared and he hesitated before answering. “Hello?”

“Hey Seb!” a familiar voice answered back. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”

“Sure Ethan! What is it?”

“So I’m getting married.. Was hoping you could be one my guys?” Seb coughed and smiled into this phone.

“But I don’t have to worry about being the best man or bringing a date?”

“Hell no!” Ethan winced and backtracked. “Sorry I just mean, I’ve got my best man but she’s got a lot of girlfriends that are gonna be bridesmaids. So you can come single and have some fun.”

Seb threw his head back and laughed at the idea. Press would have a field day, he thought to himself. “I’m in dude. Just tell me when I need to show up with a tux and where.” They ended the call and Seb wandered a bit. Suddenly he heard the scene being called to wrap and he sighed in relief. The present cast hugged their goodbyes with promises to meet up soon.

Seb was just walking into his hotel, making a to-do list for his arrival back in New York when he ran into someone. “Sorry about that,” he apologized. A pair of brown eyes checked him out as another guy pulled on his arm. “Hey Anthony,” Seb rolled his eyes. “Did you get…” The other guy and Anthony gave him funny looks.

“Who’s Anthony?” the other guy asked, checking out Seb. “Come on, Sam, before we’re recognized.” Then his jaw dropped. “Are you… me?”

Sam/Anthony chuckled under his breath. “Bucky, I think this guy’s into you. He’s just like you, but better looking.”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair eyeing Seb’s much shorter cut that had been hiding underneath the wig onset. “Maybe, but I’m not a fan of his hair; too short for me.” Sam/Anthony barked out a laugh. “Come on! Zemo’s gotta be catching up to our location and we promised the old Cap we’d meet him 10 minutes ago.”

Bucky nodded in agreement before turning back to Seb. “Be careful out there.” Then he and the Anthony twin took off.

Twenty minutes later Seb was on the phone with Anthony and Chris Evans. “Dude I’m telling you! He looked just like you, although with better hair,” he teased. “But they were calling themselves Sam and Bucky; isn’t that WEIRD?”

Chris snickered. “Seb I think the heat’s getting to you. I mean,” he sat back on his hotel bed, “there are plenty of comic book geeks out there that roleplay. Are you sure they looked like you two?”

Seb chewed his lower lip before finally telling them about all three guys. Jack the bartender, Lance the gymnast, and now… “Guys I’m telling you, there are guys that look JUST LIKE ME! Isn’t that weird? I mean I know they say everyone has a twin but…”

The line beeped. Anthony groaned. “It’s my wife and kids. I’d love to keep teasing you about this Stanman, but duty calls!” He laughed as he logged off the call.

Chris laughed too. “Look Seb, maybe it’s just a coincidence. You’re right, everyone has a twin out there but I think you’re just seeing what you want.” A knock sounded on Chris’s door and he got up from the bed to answer it. His jaw dropped; he recovered quickly. “Seb I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure,” Seb sounded a bit more relaxed. “You’re probably right. Have a good night!”

Chris stared at the guy wheeling in his room service as the call ended. “Will that be all sir?” the guy asked. Chris stared longer at this guy who was the same height as him, with slightly shorter hair and shorter beard, but without his Cap bulk and an ease he envied. “Sir?” the guy asked.

“Do I know you?” Chris questioned as he handed over a tip.

‘Don’t think so, but hi, I’m Frank.”

tag list: @lokiandbuckyaremine @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @courtmr @bookdragon13 @marvelgirl7 @sebastiansloserclub @loricameback @eurynome827 @majicbamana @jobean12-blog @fenthyr @thenormreedus @ticklikeabomb @xxloki81xx @woodworthti666 @greenarrowhead @lovely-dreamer19 @moonbeambucky @yafriendlyfangirl @after-avenging-hours @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @marvelc00kie35 @thejemersoninferno @bitsandbobsandstuff @lokilvrr @lostinthoughtsandfeelings-blog @theimpossibleg1rl @princess-evans-addict @stuckyfox @moondancewrites @halcyonrogers @writing-for-a-chance @ruckystarnes @angryschnauzerwrites @221bshrlocked @suz-123 @senoritastucky @devilbat @jpat82 @caramell0w @spookyscaryskeletonsus @theoneanna @inlovewith3 @mrs-captain-evans @crazybutconfidentaf @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @sillyboyscomicsareforgirls @shield-agent78 @mackevanstanfan80 @the-wayward-robot @renanyx @notyourtypicalrose @boldlybeardedgiver @time-travel-bouqet @jilldsumner @breezy1415 @stuckybarton @just-the-hiddles @writer-at-heart96 @deathofmissjackson @lacontroller1991 @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @eloblokistoner @thisismysecrethappyplace

#hbc dd #hbc #hbc drunk drabbles #Sebastian Stan #chris evans #anthony mackie #jeremy renner #jack benjamin #lance tucker #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson #frank adler

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 years ago

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Off Day: Twenty

At a day past your due date on Christmas Eve, you’re miserable. The only blessing is that at least, it’s cold and you aren’t sweating. Bucky, god love him, had tried. And tried, and tried a few more times to put you in labor. No dice. Your little one, was, apparently as stubborn as both of their parents.

Bucky tried to be patient, waiting for you to get ready. Jack and Judy had just been by to drop off presents for all of you. They were getting out of town for a few days, reassuring you that they were just fine and that they wouldn’t be missed at the hospital. “Baby,” Judy said kissing your forehead, “It’ll be okay. You’re gonna have so many people in there trying to hold the baby you’ll want to start throwing people out.” She’d laughed and hugged you gently before pulling away to pet your belly, “They’ll still be all wrinkly when we get back.” Jack kissed your head and informed Bucky he had money on him fainting before making him promise he’d take the best care of you.

Bucky glanced at the clock and texted his mom to let her know you’d be late, reassuring her that everything was fine, you were just moving a little slow before going up to check on you.

“Baby?” he called, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, stretching your back trying to ease a cramp, “I’m almost ready. I just need help with my boots.”

Bucky smiled softly and crossed the floor to kneel in front of you, taking a moment to rub your feet gently. The swelling never really seemed to go all the way down anymore and walking usually hurt no matter what shoes you wore. You sigh in relief at the touch and he rests his forehead on your belly lovingly, “I can do that, Beautiful,” he hummed, “And when we get home tonight we’ll try and see if we can’t put you in labor.” He kissed the swell and chuckled, “I’m getting impatient. He kisses the little hand that pushes outward, nuzzling softly then help you into your boots carefully. That done, he helps you into your coat and down the stairs cautiously. In the back of his mind, he makes a note to keep an eye on your back pain. And makes a note to text Nat to make sure there’s hot chocolate for you. He’s thankful that you’d put your foot down and said you’d make the rounds on Christmas eve, but Christmas day you wanted to stay home. You wanted it to be restful. Or at the very least you wanted to be home and comfortable and just be cuddled within an inch of your life. You looked so tired Bucky almost want to just call everyone and say you weren’t coming then put you back to bed.

Still. His mom and sisters are excited to see you. His mom gives Bucky a few quiet, very helpful pieces of advice he can use when he gets you home from the hospital, and his sisters, bless them, make you open all the onsies they bought and wrapped individually. Saying goodbye takes forever as the girls won’t stop petting your tummy. They’re very, very excited. Especially now that they know you’re going to be bringing the baby with you to work, at least while they’re small and portable. By the time you do leave, it’s snowing harder and Bucky makes sure to steady you on the slick spots. Partly to be able to touch you but mostly because, at this point, not being able to see your feet and hurting that bad makes falling a very real possibility. And a dangerous one. He’d scared himself really early on. Looking up everything that could possibly go wrong. All the ways you could lose the baby that you had no control over. It had made him very careful. Following doctor’s orders to the letter and making sure you had everything you could ever need or want. At least, he reflected with a soft smile, he’d gotten his freaking out, out early. As anxious as he was for the birth, nothing could compare to the long hours he spent scaring himself to death late at night when he’d had nightmares and couldn’t go back to sleep. He helped you up like always, taking a second to kiss your belly. “How’s your back feel?” he hummed.

“Not any worse, but no better,” you sigh.

“Consistent pain or does it come and go?”

“Constant,” you murmur, squirming, trying to get comfortable.

Bucky frowns, “Well darlin’,” he murmurs, “What do you want to do? Do you want to go to the hospital? Home? Or finish our rounds then do one of those things?”

“We’ll finish everything up,” you tell him, kissing him softly, “I really want tomorrow to ourselves. I’m just about at my wits end with people.”

Bucky chuckles, “I know, baby. It’s okay. Just let me know if anything changes okay? We’ll go straight to the hospital if it gets any worse. Any change, okay? I know they said at your appointment today you were probably gonna have to be induced but still.”

“Bucky, we’re okay,” you tell him, stealing a kiss, “Let's just get this done, okay?”

“As you wish, Princess,” he chuckles, going to get into the driver’s seat.

Bucky is usually a careful driver when he has a passenger but right now, he drives like a little old lady, a fact that’s fun to tease him about.

“Gotta keep my precious cargo safe,” he answers, unruffled. Turning his head and grinning at you for a moment before reaching over to rest his hand on your stomach. It also gave him a second to glance over his shoulder. He was pretty sure he was being followed. There was a black truck that had been following him for the last few miles. He didn’t like it. He just didn’t want you to know about it. You didn’t need the stress. As much as he wanted you to go into labor, he really didn’t want your water to break on the front seat of his truck. He could see them speeding up and braced himself. Ready to try and keep himself on the road and keep you safe. Several things, in the moment before impact popped into his head. One was that he was gonna need an ambulance. Two was that he had to get a message to his gang. He was gonna need backup. And a medic to see to you until the ambulance got there. So he messaged Nat and trusted that she’d get them all moving.

The second was that you were going to be terrified. “Baby,” he said calmly, “Just trust me, okay? Rumlow has guys behind us. I can protect you but I don’t want you to look.”

You don’t get a chance to answer. The black truck behind you slams directly into your side of the truck and Bucky has about a quarter of a second to control the slide down the embankment. He cuts the engine and takes, quick stock, kissing you softly and throwing his jacket over you to protect you from the shattering glass as a bullet hits the back window, “I love you,” he said, pulling his pistol out of the glove box. He needs to call 911 but there’s no time. You could be hurt. The baby could be hurt. But first he had to get the three of you out of this mess.

He’s never been so happy to hear Clint’s loud ass truck or Steve yelling orders. He returns fire and tries not to worry about what you’re gonna think about him. He just wants you safe, anything else he can worry about after you’ve been checked out. The bullet that hits his shoulder makes him cry out and you whimper, too scared to make any other sound.

Nat sneaks around and slides down the embankment, opening the door and sliding in with you, “Hey,” she murmurs, “It’ll be okay. We have cops on the way, okay? The ambulance is gonna take a minute because of the roads. Lots of wrecks today.

“Bucky-” you pant looking towards him and Nat grabs your chin gently. “Don’t look,” she said softly, “Contractions?”

“I think so,” you pant as she takes your hand, now very aware that she’s kneeling in a puddle. She whistled softly and smiled, “Jesus this little one had good timing. Just hang on sweetheart. Okay? Help’s coming.”

Outside, bullets are still flying and lights are flashing as cops take over, assessing the situation and listen carefully to Steve saying that Bucky’s been shot and there’s a woman currently in labor. Sam gets Bucky stable and has Nat help you to the back seat of Bucky’s truck so you can lie down. “Sorry, babe,” he says, “I gotta know what’s going on, I don’t think we have much time before I’m gonna have to play catcher.”

You nod and cry out making Bucky’s heart race as he rubs your shoulders, trying to give you what comfort he can. Sam is as gentle as he can be as he takes a look between your legs and whistled softly, “Shit, baby girl we really don’t have time. This baby is coming like now. Guess they wanted to know what was going on out here.” You whimper and Bucky takes your hand, taking a towel and some hand sanitizer from a cop, gently but Firmly telling them he had it under control when the cop that tried to help went pale.

“Y/N, on the count of three I need you to push, okay?”

“I can’t,” you whimper, scared and in pain.

“Yes you can,” Bucky encouraged, lacing his fingers through yours, “C’mon princess. Push,” he said when Sam counted down.

It doesn’t take long for the baby to slide into Sam’s waiting hands and a moment after that for that first cry to be the sweetest sound Bucky had ever heard.

“It’s a girl,” Sam said laughing, bundling her into the towel quickly to protect her against the chill.

Paramedics take over then, hustling to get all three of you taken care of. Bucky lets them take the bullet out but won’t be moved from your side, not until he knows his girls are safe and everything is okay. He kisses you tenderly and wipes away tears as someone hands you the baby, “She’s beautiful,” he murmurs, “Just like her ma.”

“How’s your shoulder?” you ask, worried.

“It’s fine,” he soothes, “It’s all fine. It’s just gonna hurt like a bitch for a while.” He kisses your head and lets them load you and the baby into an ambulance to be checked out and declines one himself, letting Steve drive. He felt a strange sense of peace watching Rumlow and his heavy hitters getting loaded into body bags. He knew that they’d be back in some form but for now, the infighting and general chaos would render them mostly useless. You were safe. And that was all he cared about. You were safe and he had a daughter. A healthy baby girl was waiting for him to get cleaned up so he could hold her and he couldn’t wait to say hello.

“What’d you name the baby?” Clint asked waiting to catch him in case he lost his footing on the step into Steve’s jeep.

“Kaitlyn,” he said smiling a little, “Kaitlyn Angelea.”

Nat smiled, “Not Noel? Lame,” she groused, “At least her middle name would have a good story.”

“Nat,” Sam laughed, “How many fucking babies born today were born in the middle of a shoot out?”

Bucky looked at Steve, “Can you take me to see my girls please?”

“Our girls,” Steve corrected, laughing, “Sorry, Buck. You’ve got to share.”

“Fine,” he sighed, “At least I get primary custody.”

Tags: @lancsnerd @etherealwaifgoddess @blameitonthecauseway @thorfanficwriter @wellfucksorrymum

#Bucky Barnes #soft bucky #bucky x reader #Steve Rogers #natasha romanoff #clint barton #sam wilson #depiction of shoot out #violence #fluff #angst if you squint #happy ending

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vivo-morior-iterum-vivo · 6 years ago

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The 4 big questions from 5.04

Spoilers and looooong post below cut

Also I’m not the one who generated all these theories I’ve collect quite a few from various contributors such as, @agender-mess, @littlehollyleaf, @vampirebillionaire, @inappropriatefangirlneeds, @apuzzleboxandpaperbirds

My apologies in advance if I missed adding someone, and as always I love it when new people contribute to these theories!

1. Sykes is alive/dead again?

In case anyone missed the guy who got his throat slit by Jeremiah is the same guy Jim shot in the head in 5.02. Notably Sykes was alive agian in 5.04, had presumably been working for Jeremiah the whole time, so that means all the kids were technically working for him too, and there was no notable bullet wound to his head (Jim shot him right between the eyes).

So, either Gotham just jacked up its continuity majorly (and he's credited as Sykes both eps I checked to make sure it wasn't twins) or Sykes is foreshadowing that Jeremiah has access to easy resurrections. I say easy, because if it was difficult or costly why waste it bringing back Sykes.

Theory 1a: Jeremiah has Hugo Strange. This would play into Jeremiah having some possible tie-in to Ed and Lee via Hugo and would help explain why Blackout Ed might be going around blasting things with an RPG (and you better bet he's still on the suspect list for the helicopter, it would explain why he had to hide in a trashcan). What I don't like about this theory, the Hugo's resurrection process seems to be more costly, so again why waste it on Sykes.

Theory 1b: Jeremiah has gained access to one of the Lazarus pits. I know it's already been said that there's no more Lazarus Water, but perhaps that was just from the one spring. Jeremiah has clearly been digging and maybe he's found another source. Reason I like this theory, he's already had some collusion with Ra's so he might have learned about it, and Lazarus Water is a quick and easy method of resurrection so why not use it on Sykes. Plus showing off you've got magic healing water is a pretty good way to convince people to join your cult.

Theory 1c: It has something to do with Ace Chemicals. We know they’re headed there and Sykes had a gas mask in 5.04 loaded with some sort of chemical vapes. Maybe those chemicals have resurrection abilities? I mean the vats sort of glow like Lazarus Water, but I know that’s a super weak connection.

2. What’s the “Gift”?

“It’s a nice gift for him. He’ll like it. No, he won’t. Yes, he will. C’mon, he’s going to love it.”

Some of you may be going, but wait Jeremiah is dead! Allow me to refer you back to question 1 and you can make some of your own theories about that and Ecco’s dedication to Jeremiah.

So first let’s first address the fact that Jeremiah apparently has two separate personalities now that unlike Ed’s personalities seem to be in co-control. It actually reminds me a lot of Deadpool’s two voices in his head. Not quite sure what happened their, maybe it’s just a sign of his progressing insanity.

Anyways he’s apparently getting someone (Bruce) a nice gift! I’m going to assume ‘him’ here is Bruce, I acknowledge it could be someone else, but I mean... we all know who Jeremiah is obsessed with...

So the real question here is what’s the gift?

Theory 2a: The tunnel. If Sykes wasn’t lying in 5.02 the tunnel leads under the river towards the main land. However, Jeremiah cut Gotham off from the rest of the world, so him creating an escape route seems highly unlikely. Perhaps that’s just what he told his workers to keep them motivated. I’m wondering if he’s now planning to flood part of Gotham perhaps. All in all, it’s a very suspicious tunnel.

Theory 2b: The destruction of Haven. This seems less likely to me just because it sounded like he was planning something, and of course Haven had already been destroyed. Plus I feel like if he had been responsible we might have heard someone reporting in on it or Jeremiah gloating about it. I’m not fully taking him off the suspect list though.

Theory 2c: It’s something else entirely. Ra’s goal for Bruce was to have him become the dark knight and I feel like he really sold Jeremiah on that idea. So, Jeremiah has trapped Bruce in Gotham, surrounded him with chaos and baddies, but I feel like he hasn’t really given something to Bruce yet to really test his mettle, so perhaps it has something to do with that. I feel like it could even have something to do with Bane. We’ve now seem Jeremiah is in control of the workers with the Bane-esque gasmasks from 5.02, we know Ace Chemicals is going to be involved and Ecco is finding him followers with more violent tendencies. She figured he’d want quality over quantity. So, maybe he’s looking for the best fighter to beef up and throw at Bruce.

3. What’s the deal with Blackout Ed?

We had it revealed that the actual culprit was Ed all along! I mean, I can’t say I was really surprised, though I’m pretty sure we’re all still questioning his motive. Few interesting things for consideration, the rooftop had a couch on it, was this the same couch he woke up on in a previous episode? He didn’t react to it, but I think it could point to the fact Ed himself scouted and selected the location, rather than someone else. Ed also previously woke up in a dumpster right after the helicopter shut down, I made a joke that he was hiding in there because he shot down the helicopter, now it’s looking more like this could be true.

So why? Why do these things? What did they accomplish? Both attacks directly negatively impacted Jim Gordan the Green Zone. I could see the case be made That they also negatively impacted Bruce too, but not as much as Jim.

Theory 3a: Blackout Ed is just plain old evil. What I like about this theory is it makes it a lot harder for Ed to be forgiven via the “Bucky Barnes is Innocent because Mind Control” argument. (I’m not a fan, but it’s totally fine if you are) If this is the case than there is an even darker part of Ed, that our On-Screen Ed is now going to not only have to recognize in himself, but hopefully fight against. (and it looks like he does from the preview). I also favor it because it sets up Ed to be a real big baddie and could set him up for a little War of Jokes and Riddles arc against the other potential big baddie Jeremiah. What I don’t think fits well with this theory is the way Tank (Street Demon Thug) describes Blackout Ed:

“You seemed stiff, man of few words. In a daze, actually.”

That sounds like mind control. Which leads us into the rest of the theories.

Theory 3b: Professor Hugo Strange. Just him on his own, lovin’ himself some twisted mad science. Now almost every theory after this one is going to involve Hugo, but this one is just Hugo and that’s actually what I think makes it really weak as Hugo seems to be the type of guy who likes lurking in the shadows and doesn’t particularly like drawing attention to himself. Which y’know blowing up Haven has drawn a LOT of attention. That being said we could see almost the exact same thing as Theory 3a, play out except Ed does get to plea Bucky-Barnes-Defense. It’s also not the first time we’ve seen Hugo just mess with someone’s personality notably we have Galavan who he used to try to kill Bruce and Oswald who he conditioned to be nice and then just let him loose. FOR SCIENCE! Apparently.

Theory 3c: Jeremiah somehow has control of Blackout Ed. I was originally all for this theory, because blowing up building is 100% Jeremiah’s MO, but after finding out it wasn’t actually bombs and the fact that Jeremiah didn’t make any comment about it in 5.04 makes me think he’s not involved. I will grant him still that he had access to the Green Zone and he would also have knowledge of the buildings structure and heating system as an architect. As I pointed out in question 2 it sounds like he’s up to something else.

Theory 3d: Teresa Walker. For those of you who don’t know SPOILER ALERT 5.06 she’s the lady talking to Jim on the radio and she’s apparently the one who’s going to send in Eduardo Dorrance (Bane). The idea here is that she’s somehow manipulating Ed via Hugo so that Ed causes enough destruction in Gotham so she has an excuse to send in her strike force and hey, if that’s the case it worked! What I like about this theory is it’s very Amanda Waller in Suicide Squad. Just as they wont let Gotham use the name Joker, maybe WB has also banned Amanda Waller from being used and this is Gotham’s hot take. Sending in Bane to recruit more baddies to use for her own nefarious ends would be a pretty cool plot. My problem with this theory is actually the timeline, Amanda would have had to reach out to Hugo Strange before Oswald recruited him to fix Butch. This means recruiting Ed was a crime of opportunity.

Theory 3e: Jervis Tech. As far as I know this is a whole new theory I just came up with while writing all these other theories out. What I like about this theory, Jervis Tech has the motive. He HATES Jim. In fact I’d argue he hates Jim more than anyone. Both attacks targeted Jim. Hypnosis is his MO and that sounds a lot like how Tank described Blackout Ed’s behavior. Main weakness I feel with this theory is Jervis hasn’t really been a big bad and I’d be surprised if they gave him that strong of a roll. There have been clips of him this season though, so I know he’s going to turn up somewhere.

4. What were Zsasz’s ‘Final Words’?

Not really a big plot altering question, I just really want to know!

#Gotham #gotham season 5 spec #jeremiah velaska #edward nygma #gotham riddler #hugo strange #jervis tetch #gotham jeremiah

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ohmcrvel · 6 years ago

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Good Luck With Her

Good Luck With Her Pt 1 Pt 2

masterlist

Hello Loves 💖! IM BACK OMG ! So I’ve been trying to get rid of my writing block for months now and apparently my writing block has come out of tumblr and is now on wattpad so I’ll probably not be updating on there for a while ( sorry neve)! I hope you enjoy this story and if possible please go check out my wattpad @wckdseb and give my stories some love ! Love you guys eternally! Also happy birthday to the love of my life Sebastian, you’ve helped me through the days I thought I should give up so I thank you more than I can ever explain.

-L ☕️

Summary : people say long distance relationships are hard, you would definitely agree, and after your boyfriend of 10 years cheats on you, you are left wondering if that crush on your team member Bucky was actually just your subconscious telling you where your heart actually belongs.

Note: This is a product of months of writing block, my ex cheating on me, and the amazing song Cardi b Thru your Phone

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, avengers x reader

Warnings: I haven’t written in ages this is shit! angst, a lottttt of swearing, cheating ass dicks, fluff, mentions of sex/sexual activities

———————————————

people say long distance relationships are hard, you would definitely agree. You have been with you boyfriend Daniel, ‘Dan’, ever since you were both just silly seventeen-year-olds begging to leave high school together as soon as possible so your adventures could begin but now, that adventure was coming to an abrupt end.

Throughout your nearly 10 year on and off relationship you’ve both been told “your not experiencing the world”, “how do you know you truly love each other” and “ she’ll/he’ll cheat on you when you’re not around.” And many more horrible things but you two didn’t let that stop your love.

That didn’t mean you two didn’t end it sometimes , their was that 3 year break for uni (minus the drunken hookups) so you too could discover yourself, their was the 2 years you did work experience at a marine biology research lab, where he ended up becoming a security guard without even knowing you worked there and that was where you gained your powers and were being helped by you boss so you couldn’t just leave. Don’t forget their was all the blind dates you were set up on which every time turned out to be him, so it just felt like you could never escape each other so the relationship carried on, but now, 4 years later, it’s even more complicated.

After a freak accident in you lab one night you were ‘blessed’ with the ability to control the element of water, that wasn’t in the description of your marine biology degree though, your boss whose wife was born with a similar gift offered to help you and later was the one who introduced you to the one and only nick fury after your powers needed a more professional approach.

So here you are now, 10 years later from once being seventeen, sat around a marble table surrounded by a team of superhero’s eating spaghetti like six-year-olds and everything seemed good, but not for long.

Last week was your high school best friend Jenny’s birthday party but sadly you were too busy with a mission to go, so instead of the 15 hours plane ride straight after a 3 day mission in Russia your other best friend Neveah sent videos and photos of parts of the night so you could see what you were missing. As everyone talked and laughed you placed your phone in you hand with a on EarPod in one ear smiling at all you high school friends dancing and smiling at the camera saying stupid jokes about you throughout, your laughs soon caught the attention of the team who ended up watching your drunk friends with you laughing along, but the laughter was soon cut short by Sam yelling,

“what the fuck is he doing!” He screams angrily as he grabs your phone pausing the video and zooming in, Bucky and Wanda had gone over to look at what he was yelling at and soon Wandas eyes turned ruby red and Buckys fists clenched

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” His voice turned cold and his eyes swirling with rage.

While everyone was trying to calm the three down you managed to get your phone back and your eyes raced across the screen only to be greeted by your boyfriend making out with Jenny, your best friend. Suddenly everything in your life went silent and you lost all ability to function, your body fell back into your chair and the glass of water in your other hand smashed against the tiled floor, you hastily scurried up to your feet and pushed your way through the teams bodies, you began hurrying into the corridor to your bedroom, faint shouts of your name were blocked out by what you think were your tears as your wooden door slammed shut and your body slid down it .

“Miss (y/l/n), you’re in distress, shall I get help.” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice broke the tear-filled air.

“No...no F.R.I.D.A.Y don’t le- don’t let anybody in, please.” Your voice no longer cheerful but now breaking and blocked by tears and as you hand shook your now tear stained cheeks glowed in the screen light and your weak fingers scrolled through your contacts to find that dicks name.

You lifted yourself of the ground and placed yourself on the bed as your phone dialled, your friends waited outside the door, Bucky angrily pacing down the corridor as his anger boiled up inside, while everyone just waited to hear him pick up, and well, he did.

“Hey (y/n) ! I just got back from a shift you alri-“Dan’s cheerful voice was soon cut off by a loud sob.

“Ho- how could you.” Pain and hurt was all Bucky and everyone else could hear in your voice as they sat in the corridor snooping into the conversation like teens, wanting to make sure that asshole didn’t hurt you even more.

“Babe wha-“ Bucky scoffed at his nickname, you always hated being called that but you put up with it for him.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You snapped back at him.

“Okay okay, (y/n) I just need you to calm down I think you having another anxiety attack.” He pleaded with innocence, nearly causing Nat to jump on a plane to snap his neck.

“I’m not having an anxiety attack you dickshit! This is just the effects of finding out your boyfriend of TEN FUCKING YEARS HAS BEEN NECKING ON WITH YOUR BEST FRIEND” you screamed down the phone as the speaker button flickered white in the darkness, all the pain in your heart begin pouring out like a waterfall.

“Babe...I um...I” Lost for words was all anybody would describe what was happening right and it wasn’t good.

“So now you’re lost for words? Bet you’ve been saying a lot of nice shit to Jenny haven’t you? Oh wait your tongue has been too busy down her fucking throat.” Tony couldn’t help silently chuckle at his gals response, he’d taught her well when it comes to dealing with assholes.

“It’s not like that, you don’t understand.” He pleaded, wanting her just to breathe and let him explain.

“Then fucking explain it to me Daniel! Enlighten me with your amazing knowledge.” Sarcasm dripping towards the end of your sentence as you began sorting through your wardrobe and throwing all his hoodies and gifts he gave you onto the floor so that every trace of him was no longer in your life.

“ i know I know I just don’t know where to begin.” Dans head was full of confusion on how you found out but that wasn’t a good enough reason.

“Where to begin ? Maybe begin by telling me if this was a one time thing or have you been fucking my best friend since we were seventeen.” Your heart was rapidly beating with fear and anxiety as you wondered if your whole relationship had been one massive coverup and lie, you wanted to sound scary and intimidating but every time you spoke your voice just turned into a sob of tears.

“It’s been going on for nearly 4 years” and that’s when your heart fully broke and the team sat out side all look at each other in shock at disgust.

“4 years, 4 bloody years.” You whispered as you hastily grabbed and sat in your chair, looking out at the New York skyline as the room began to spin.

“So you’re telling me that you, Daniel River Fucking Brown was cheating on me with my best friend when I was kidnapped by FUCKING HYDRA!” You voice was more filled with sadness than anything as you hand slammed into your table knocking over the picture frame of you too at prom, the whole team heard the shatter of glass and Bucky was so tempted to go in there and wrap in his arms until this nightmare ended.

The memories of the beginning of those four years hurt more then anything due to the fact after the first couple months you joined the avengers your powers had increased beyond belief, you could now control all the elements and were commonly known by the world as Gardien du Ciel or Sky Guardian and it caused you to became a high priority for hydra, and soon you became their prisoner for nearly a year after they took you while you were on your way to visit Dan for your anniversary.

“Yes, yes I am.” His voice was soft and quite now, like he was embarrassed or something.

“After you were taken I was messed up, I was already struggling without you by my side while you were in New York but now you could never come back due to Hydra And i was struggling to live” the whole team brewed with anger as he tried to play victim without even knowing that they already knew the whole truth.

“One night a couple of months after you were taken I got into really bad place, and Jenny came round when she thought something was wrong because I missed work. We ended up talking for hours everyday for weeks and one night one thing lead to another and it’s been happening ever since, she just wanted to comfort me.” He hastily finished explaining like he just wanted this conversation to be over because he couldn’t be bother to keep lying.

“Bullshit.” Was all you responded with

“What.” He questioned with slight anger

“It’s a bullshit excuse, that’s what that is, the whole time i was taken I know you did jack shit, you never called my team when I missed are anniversary dinner, Tony had to call you to tell you I was missing and he was on the other side of the world! My friends told me how you went partying every Saturday like usual, they told me you never came to the searches and light ceremonies they held, you did fucking nothing Daniel! The people I was captured by showed me the news reports and you were never there Daniel! You never were, and I’m tired of pretending like it didn’t hurt!” You could hear your heart breaking through every word as the flashbacks of those 11 months tortured your brain.

“I just couldn’t deal with it.” Was all he responded with

“And you think I could ? You think I was doing just fine getting tortured and abused? Because I wasn’t !” This whole event finally made you realise that you haven’t even been in love with this asshole these pass 4 years and you were tired of faking it.

“I know (y/n) I know !” His voice full of anger now like you were the one in the wrong

“How the fuck would you know? You didn’t even see me in hospital after I was rescued? Bucky was the first one there and was by my side every night through the coma and after while you where partying and fucking Jenny!” Your heart flutter at the memories of hearing his voice everyday until you woke up from that coma and he smiled at the fact you remembered he was even there.

“Oh god don’t bring Bucky Into this.” He groaned with disrespect

“What on earth is that suppose to mean.” You snapped back with disgust

“You know what I mean (y/n), the whole time you’ve been at that tower I’ve seen and heard the way you felt about him” Dans voice was laced in hate with every word he spoke while the team all seemed to look a Bucky with “we all already knew” looks while his face was full of shock.

“Daniel we talked about this last time I was in London, I told you about me feelings for bucky because I wanted their to be trust in are relationship, but I guess you don’t know what trust is, and i think these past 4 years of me growing to love that man was my heart and subconscious telling me that I don’t love your stupid ass at all and I just need my best friend and the man I’m Truly in love with as the guy by my side not the guy who I fucked at prom and only lasted five fucking seconds.” And with that final comment your hung up, falling back into the bed you just cried yourself asleep, not knowing that your team had just heard the whole thing, including Bucky hearing your confession of liking him.

Pt 2 coming tomorrow 💞💞

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jamesbarnesbestgirl · 7 years ago

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Just The Beginning Part 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Slow Burn)

Featuring: Peggy Carter, Howard Stark, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 1728

Warnings: Porbs cringy writing as this is my first fanfic in over 4 years. Swearing.

A/N: Here is part 3. Sorry it’s been a while, but I’ve been busy with sorting school out, and I was very sick and I’m just bouncing back. If you wish to be tagged please feel free to message me. Also any feedback is much appreciated.

Reader POV

I was so caught up with watching my friends interaction with Steve that I didn’t notice the initial explosion until Howard had knocked me to the ground.

By the time my ears stopped ringing and I looked up Dr. Erskine was on the ground, dead. “What the fuck happened!” Howard shouted, looking around at the damage that had been done.

I slowly start to get up, being mindful that the pressure from the blast might have given me a mild concussion. “Is anybody injured?” I ask beginning to try and help.

A half hour later I had just finished patching up those who were hurt when Peggy and Steve walked back into what was left of the lab. They went strait over to Colonel Philips and began speaking to him. I could see that Steve was getting visibly frustrated so I decided to walk over and see what was going on.

“Ah, Nurse Y/L/N. As you can see, by the disastrous events that just occurred, Project Rebirth is being terminated effective immediately. Thank you for your assistance in patching up people from the blast and your work in helping patient zero over here survive.” Colonel Philips said, while gesturing to Steve.

“Thank you sir. What are my orders?” I ask, stealing a glance at Steve who has calmed down a bit and is now politely smiling at me.

“Well, I’m going to give you a choice. You could either be deployed to the front lines of Europe as originally planned, or you could stay here in the states. Rogers here needs a nurse to be able to monitor him while we run tests to see if we can recreate the serum.” Philips stated.

“Well, if Steve needs…” I began, but was cut off.

“With all due respect Y/N, you don’t need to stay behind. You said earlier you enlisted to help people, so don’t worry about me.” Steve interrupted you with a bitter sweet smile on his face.

“Alright, I guess that means I choose the front lines.” I say with a smile.

“Good, plain leaves 0800 tomorrow. But before you go please give Rodgers here the once over.” Colonel Philips says before dismissing you.

The next 24 hours that followed were a whirlwind. Between re-checking Steve’s vitals and drawing blood to see if the scientists could attempt to recreate the late doctors formula, helping Howard clean up the lab, and packing up for tomorrow, I barely had enough time to catch some shut eye before I found myself on a plain towards Europe.

After a 12 hour flight from New York to London; including a stop off in St. johns to refuel, and a 5 hour train ride I finally arrived at the camp.

“Welcome to what we’ll call home for the foreseeable future.” Colonel Philips stated as we exited the truck that had picked us up from the train station. “Better go rest up girlie. Your day starts at 0700 tomorrow morning.”

I quickly thanked him and headed towards the nurses barracks. To say slept well would be an understatement. I normally don’t sleep at all when I move to a new place, but I was so exhausted from the trans-atlantic journey that the second my head hit the pillow I was out cold.

I was woken up; far to early in my opinion, by the bugle call. I quickly got dressed and head to the mess tent where I grabbed a quick breakfast. I then made my way towards the medical tent.

When I entered the tent the first thing that caught my eye were what appeared to be the 30 or so cots all lined up in two orderly rows. Only about 10 or so cots were occupied, although a sinking feeling in my gut told me it would’t stay that way for long. My eyes trailed along each cot with sympathy, before reaching a makeshift desk that had a young nurse standing behind it talking to another nurse with a clipboard. The first nurse turned towards me, while the other went to go assist one of the occupants of the cots.

“You must be the new girl?” she asked with a kind smile.

“Yes, Nurse Y/L/N, but you can call me Y/N.” I replied shaking her hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Dita, and the other nurse over there is Lucy.” Dita said while pointing over to Lucy who waved. “Let me catch you up to speed on how things work around here. Day shift is 0700 until 1900 with an half hour lunch and dinner rotation, and night shift is 1900 until 0700 with an hour sleep rotation. We switch shifts every other week, but since you’re new we’ll start you off with a day shift.” She says kindly.

“Sounds simple enough. Where do I start?” I ask with enthusiasm.

“You can start by giving out the soldiers breakfasts based on their respective charts. Once thats done, you and Lucy can start redressing any wounds with fresh bandages.” she said while pointing to a tray of food and a stack of patient clipboards. “Each cot is numbered with its matching clipboard so it shouldn’t take to long. Mornings are usually quiet. It’s the afternoons when the troops get back from there rounds and objectives that things start to get really busy. If you need any help feel free to ask.” Dita said, then sat down and started filling out some paper work.

I spent the morning handing the soldiers their meals. Lucy had introduced me to the 8 soldiers that were currently staying in the med ward. When it came time to redress there injuries we each decided to treat 4 of them.

My first patient, Adam, had a head wound that looked worse then it actually was. He said he had been pushed out of the way of oncoming fire and hit his head on a rock. He said that the doctor wanted to watch him overnight and had given him antibiotics to ward off infection.

My second patient barley spoke while I redressed his wound. From his patient chart it said his name was Edmond from Morristown, New Jersey. He, according to Adam was the soldier who had saved him from the enemy fire. He had suffered from a bullet wound to his right side. Luckily it looked liked the bullet had passed trough, and missed all vital organs.

Jack, my third patient, didn’t need a wound to be redressed because he had apparently been admitted with Tuberculosis. The poor soldier couldn’t have been any older then 22, but sadly he had already begun to cough up blood, according to his patient chart. I gave him his dose of antibiotics and an extra piece of bread to help keep the nausea at bay. My forth patient for the morning, David, only had a concussion, so he had stayed asleep after breakfast.

It wasn’t until around 1500 hours that things started to pick up. Soldier after soldier came in, some with easily treatable things like sprained wrist and dehydration, others with bullet wounds that had just barley missed their lungs. It wasn’t until 1630 hours, when I was just finishing wrapping a through-and-through that Dita called me to the front of the tent.

“Y/N can you fill out this patients paper work for me while I help him to a cot?” she asked while she put the patients arm around her shoulders and began to walk him towards a cot with one of his fellow soldiers.

“Sure, no problem.” I say as I quickly walk over to the desk and start a new patient form. I look up towards the other soldier that had brought in the new patient when I was met with a pair of the bluest eyes I had ever seen. Standing before me was an incredibly hansom soldier. He stood around 6 foot tall with a blinding white smile, strong jaw line, and broad shoulders. His hair was slightly out of place, most likely due to helping his fellow soldier, but he still looked as if he had just gotten ready for the day. I had to prevent myself from letting out a gasp as my eyes quickly shifted down to focus on the form, trying to suppress the blush that was rising to my cheeks.

“Name?” I ask, keeping my eyes trained to the form.

“The names Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. What’s yours Doll?” he says with a confident tone to his voice.

I quickly collect myself and laugh a bit at his response. “I meant your friends name, who is currently being helped to a cot.” I state with my eyebrow arched, daring him to defy me.

“Fair enough, his name is Mike Brown.” Bucky said chuckling at your attempt to intimidate him.

“Date of birth?”

“Don’t know.”

“Place of birth?”

“Queens, New York I think.”

“And how exactly did he end up hurting his leg, Sergeant Barnes.” I ask while writing the other information down.

“Well Mikey here is a bit of a klutz. He might have tripped when he was trying to get out of the transport truck, and landed on his foot in a wrong way. I heard a crack when he hit the ground and I think it’s broken.” Bucky stated, eyeing you up and down.

“Barnes! You better not be lying to my nurse!” Mike shouted from across the tent, causing you to giggle.

“Of course not Mikey!” Bucky called back. “He hurt his leg fighting off 100 nazis single handedly.” Bucky said loud enough for Mikey to hear winking at me.

“Damn straight!” Mikey called back causing me to smile and shake my head at the soldiers antics.

“Thank you Sergeant for your help. You are free to go.” I say as you put the finishing touches on the form, struggling to not to glance at his eyes.

“Please, call me Bucky. Plus you still haven’t told me your name Doll.” Bucky said with a cocky smile.

“I know.” I say with a flirty smile and turn away from him. “Have a nice evening Sergeant Barnes.” I toss over my shoulder as I walk towards Mikey’s cot to get the remaining info for the paper work and help Dita bind his leg.

Tag List: @mizz-kraziii @littlebunnybigheart @c-ly-g

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #40s!bucky #40s bucky #james bucky barnes #bucky #bucky imagine #james buchanon barnes #marvel

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spideyxchelle · 7 years ago

Note

Hey ,I love your job

So….this headcanon got out of hand. I’ll admit that I tried to write it in headcanon format but my life was like NAH. so here, have a fic. and for those of you that don’t want to read it on tumblr…here is the ao3 link.

The first person he asks for advice on MJ, completely by accident, is Vision. After Thanos’ War, Tony makes good on his promise to put Peter’s quarters next to Vision’s room. A newly indoctrinated Avenger, apparently living next to Thanos is the superhero equivalent of hazing and Peter is the fresh meat. During training, because Peter still has one year left of high school he’s gotta complete once the summer is done, living next door to Vision is an adventure.

Vision is not really a computer, he’s not really a person, so his manners and people skills leave something to be desired.

Nothing is more terrifying than waking up in the middle of the night because Vision is walking through the walls to get to his room. Right through Peter’s bed. He may have screamed the first few times. The rest of the team definitely laughed.

And it’s because of that stupid walking through walls trick that makes Vision the first person he talks to about his crush on MJ. Because Vision manages to morph into Peter’s room in the middle of the night while Peter is…while Peter is doing a nightly activity and MJ’s name is on his lips.

“Physical stimulation, Mr. Parker?” Vision observes from where he floats in Peter’s room.

Peter yells and tanks the sheets up around his waist, “What the hell, Vision? You can’t just. You shouldn’t just. This is my room!”

“Apologies, Peter. I was merely going to bed myself.” Vision offers a congenial smile.

“Get out!” Peter yelps.

The following morning Peter has still not recovered from the embarrassment and Vision doesn’t make it any easier to forget when he sits down next to him at breakfast and politely asks, “Who is Michelle?”

Peter buries his red face in his cereal, “Come on, man.”

Vision doesn’t relent, “Is she your partner?”

“No,” Peter squeaks. He clears his throat and tries again, “No. She’s just a girl I go to school with.”

“But-” Vision tries to piece out, “You were stimulating yourself as you thought about her.”

“Dude,” Peter drops his spoon in his bowl, “Can you not?”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Vision insists, which Peter can’t help but be suspicious of. Vision doesn’t get embarrassed like normal people, nothing seems to faze him. Everything is fact, everything is reason and if Vision doesn’t understand why being caught jacking off is embarrassing Peter can’t explain that to him. “No,” Vision continues, obviously sensing Peter’s discomfort, “It isn’t. I pleasure myself regularly with thoughts of Wanda. And, sometimes, we engage in sexual activity to our mutual pleasure.”

Peter offhandedly wonders if he can stab himself with his spoon. Then, almost like an afterthought, he shyly asks, “How did you do that? With Wanda?”

“Ah,” Vision sits taller, “I insert my-”

“No! No, no, no,” Peter shakes his head. “Not,” he groans, “Not that. I know how that works. I’m talking about…how do you get a girl you like to…like you back?”

“There is no secret to mine and Wanda’s happiness,” Vision says after a moment of contemplation. “I am myself as she is herself.”

“So,” Peter pushes his cereal with his spoon dejectedly, “Be myself?”

“Precisely.”

And while he doesn’t take the advice to heart, he does have trouble looking Vision in the eye for two weeks.

So that’s something.

The next Avenger he talks to about MJ is Doctor Banner. It gets around the compound really quickly that Vision caught Peter rubbing one out because Vision tells everyone. All of the guys spend every bit of every day ribbing him about it and the only place he finds a stitch of silence is in Doctor Banner’s lab because, well, he’s MIA, again.

After Bucky and Natasha got together, apparently they knew each other way back when in Russia, Doctor Banner went a little rogue. He pops in and out when he feels like it, but the Hulk becomes less and less of a staple of the team and more of the occasional MVP.

Peter is banking on Doctor Banner being out of town all summer, so when he goes hiding on the fifth day of teasing and finds Doctor Banner back in his lab he tries not to look so disappointed.

Bruce notices, “I can go, if you want.”

“No,” Peter jumps in, “Its your lab. I just have been…”

“Hiding,” Doctor Banner finishes for him. “I’ve heard.”

Peter flushes, “I really hate living next to Vision.”

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Doctor Banner mumbles, “You could have ended up next to Cap. He screams, you know.”

Peter plops himself down at one of the lab benches, “What? Why?”

“PTSD. Plus, my running theory is 70-something years on ice did something to his brain. Steve’s vitals never run quite right.”

Doctor Banner says it so matter-of-fact and it startles Peter. Captain America always felt so untouchably perfect to Peter. He was the guy in the reels at school, he was the big man on the team that everyone looked up to, who even Peter looked up to…big fan.

“Is there anything we can do?”

“Is there anything we can do for Wanda when she gets her headaches?” Bruce begins, “Or anything we can do for Bucky when he hears his trigger words? Or anything we can do for Tony when he has an anxiety attack? Or, or, or.” Doctor Banner rests a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder, “This is a building of broken people, Peter. We do something by making the world better. That’s all we can do.”

Peter bites the inside of his lip. “Do you think we’re all too damaged for normal?”

Doctor Banner picks up some alien technology tool and tugs goggles down over his eyes, “Why?”

“There’s this girl. Her name is MJ,” Peter glances behind himself at the door, checking that no one will walk in and hear him after the week of boner jokes. “She’s…woah, you know? And I want-” What did he want? He wanted so much it always felt like his chest was going to burst. “-her?” It sounded like a question. “No, her,” he repeated, more affirmative.

Bruce patiently put down his project, “Normal isn’t something that exists for people like us. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve happiness, Peter.”

“What about you, Doctor Banner?”

The doctor went doctor and Peter itched to speak, to fill the void in conversation. Finally, thankfully, Banner spoke, “There is a thing as too much damage, Peter.” He went back to his project now fully engrossed, “Close the door on your way out.”

He doesn’t even really ask Thor for advice on MJ. It’s more like Thor offers.

And it’s terrifying.

Peter is sparing with some droids in the combat arena when Thor comes bursting into his practice. His loud voice booms, “Spiderling!” Peter is so frightened he doesn’t aim his web at the last opponent and gets nicked in his shoulder by a rubber bullet.

He grips his shoulder and hisses at the pain. Thor slaps Peter on the same shoulder and lets out a hearty laugh, “I have heard that summer training with the team has been unkind to you. Since you were caught mid-”

“Thor, that’s my shoulder!” Peter yells as Thor proudly slaps Peter on the shoulder again.

“Yes,” Thor observes, “So it is.”

Peter tries not to scowl. He fails. “What do you want?”

“I have come to offer my good council on the fairer sex. You are,” Thor gestures lamely at Peter, “small and willowy and your looks are less refined than a traditional handsomeness.” Peter’s frown deepens. “But you are strong and have a good heart. These things will help you win your lady.”

“Thor,” Peter practically growls, “I appreciate your,” he searches for Thor’s word, “council. But…I’m good.”

Thor’s eyebrow raises suspiciously, “If that were true you would not need self gratification. Your lady would, no doubt, assist you.”

“I said I’m good!” Peter tosses the rubber bullet across the room and storms out of the arena leaving Thor behind.

He didn’t want to practice anyway. Hmph.

Peter literally bumps into Natasha two and a half weeks after the Vision incident and she doesn’t try and roast Peter about anything. In fact, she even apologises when they collide.

If he didn’t like MJ so much, Peter thinks he might like Black Widow. He wonders if its a spider thing. He’s Spider-man, she’s Black Widow. It feels almost poetic. Or it would if Bucky wasn’t so gigantic and scary.

She steadies herself and Peter, bracing her hands on his shoulder, “You okay, kid?”

“I’m good,” Peter nods.

“Good,” she smiles and he finds himself smiling back. “How’s camp going,” she easily inquires, “That’s what Tony’s calling your training, right?”

“Right,” Peter sighs. Actually, Tony called Spider-man Summer training The Underoos Do Better Initiative summer camp. He had even had special stationary drawn up with the camp name to send weekly updates to Aunt May. Peter loathed it.

“And you’re settling in okay?”

“As best I can, ma'am.”

“Natasha,” she corrected, “You can call me Natasha.”’

“Natasha,” Peter squeaked, “Cool.” He bite his bottom lip to keep from losing any cool he had left but it didn’t work, “I’m sorry. My best friend loves you. You’re so cool.”

Black Widow, no, Natasha looked taken aback and Peter wished he could take all of his words and shove them back to nothingness where they belonged. So stupid, he chastised himself.

But she didn’t run away or call him names. Actually, she softened, “That’s sweet. Is this your girlfriend?”

Peter paled, “Girlfriend?”

“Oh, sorry. Just…Bruce…Doctor Banner, I mean, mentioned there was a girl you liked. I just figured…” she trailed off.

“No,” Peter shook his head, mortified, “No girl. Well,” he gulped, “I don’t have a girlfriend, is what I meant.”

“But there is a girl,” Nat smirked conspiratorially. “Is she nice?”

Peter nodded, a blush creeping up his neck.

“And smart?”

“The smartest person I’ve ever met,” he didn’t hesitate.

Natasha pocketed her hands, “And you feel better when she’s around?”

Peter paused. He did always feel better around MJ. His whole world since getting bit by the spider had been a whirlwind of spectacular triumph and unimaginable tragedy. His life didn’t always feel like it was his, more like a series of events that were happening to him all tied together by his need to do good and to protect the people that couldn’t protect themselves. But MJ made it all slow down. When he was with her, damn, he felt like he was in the moment. In fact, being with her sometimes felt like the only moments that mattered.

“She makes this,” Peter gestured around the facility, “bearable. I’d be, I dunno, less without her.”

Natasha pat Peter on the shoulder and he relished the touch. Not because she was a beautiful, capable superhero but because for a second her comfort felt like Aunt May. And it struck him just how much he missed his aunt. And how lonely she had to be all alone this summer.

The last Avengers Peter speaks to about MJ are Captain America and Iron Man, together. Tony’s having it out with Cap in the lobby of the facility when Peter tries to slink by them unseen.

Tony tugs Peter under his arm and smiles ruefully at Captain, “You like it here, right, Mr. Parker?”

“Well, Mr. Stark…”

“Don’t bully him into the answer you want, Tony,” Steve snapped.

Peter tried to interject, “The thing is…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony waved off Peter and glared at Steve, “You just hate the fact that he’s thriving. Its like you want him to fail.”

Captain America narrowed his eyes and took a predatory step toward Tony and Peter, “I would never want him to fail. But,” Tony rolled his eyes at the but and Steve spoke louder, “BUT I want him to live, Tony. He’s a teenager. He’s got friends and a home and a life outside of this. We didn’t let him choose. He got pulled into this and he got pulled into this because of you.”

Mister Stark dropped the arm around Peter and stepped toe-to-toe in Steve’s face, “I didn’t make him put on that suit. I sure as hell didn’t make him fight in the war against Thanos. That was him. And it’d be damn irresponsible if I knew he was going to fight whether or not I said he could without the best tools to protect him!”

Steve scoffed, “Oh is that what you’re doing? Protecting him?”

“Yes,” Tony sneered, “I am.”

“Okay!” Peter’s voice broke. The two older men looked over at Peter and he suddenly felt like he should have run away. Slipping past them, staying out of this conversation, was a lot smarter than trying to interject. Even if the conversation was about him.

He swallowed thickly, “I just, I am really grateful for the chance to be here. And Mr. Stark is right,” Tony stood a little taller and Captain America frowned, disappointed, “I would have fought with or without the training or the suit. But…Mr. America, Captain…um, sir, is also right.” Tony’s eyebrow crinkled in displeasure and Steve stood a proudly, “I do have friends and people at home. And I miss them. I don’t think, or well, I don’t know if I’m ready to spend the whole summer away from them quite yet.”

Tony’s shoulders fell, “You saying you want to leave?”

“I’m saying,” Peter mumbled, “I miss my aunt and my friends. And I’d like to spend the weekends at home during the summer. Ned’s got a summer camp Monday through Friday anyway and MJ doesn’t like-” Peter found his voice trailing off.

The whole Vision incident had tainted talking about MJ at headquarters for Peter. He had grown to expect the teasing and the poking and the prodding. And so he braced from impact, for the sting of the two older men teasing him, but it never came.

Instead, the two older men were sharing a look that Peter couldn’t quite explain. If he had to pin it down it felt like experience. Like they both knew a time and a place where maybe their version of MJ had existed. Maybe she still did. Maybe they knew what it was like to want to be somewhere else, with someone else.

Tony rolled his shoulders back, “You will arrive 8 am sharp on Monday mornings, got it, kid?”

Peter’s face lit up, “Yes, sir, Mr. Stark, sir.”

“Or I’ll revoke your weekend privileges. Training is serious business.”

Captain America crossed his arms over his chest, a smile bright and bold taking up half of his face, “You have fun, Peter.”

“Not too much fun,” Tony countered. “Use protection. I don’t need any spider-babies running around.”

Peter’s face paled, absolutely mortified he shook his head, “I’m not…we’re not…besides, she doesn’t even know….it’s not like that.”

“You tell that girl you like her, Peter. Because you never know how much time you have with somebody,” Steve spoke with more conviction than Peter had ever heard him speak before.

“I can’t tell her,” Peter blanched.

“Sure you can,” Tony shrugged, slipping his sunglasses on, “Easy.”

“Maybe for you.”

“I agree, you don’t have my zeal but you’re a good kid, Parker. And that girl would be stupid not to like you.”

When Happy drives Peter back down to Queens late-Friday night he isn’t sure what to tell MJ. Aunt May, for one, is thrilled to have Peter back under her roof even if its just for part of the summer. Ned has been slowly collecting Episode VIII legos for them to build together all summer and has already made plans to sit on the Parker’s couch all day Saturday eating May’s food and building legos. But he can’t bring himself to text MJ, to tell her that he’s gonna be home on the weekends.

She knows why he’s upstate, he told her a few months ago after Thanos and everything about Spider-man and she hardly seemed surprised, so he doesn’t have to lie. Yet, he can’t seem to send her a simple text. He hovers his thumb over her contact and never quite clicks it.

When he gets home, after May squishes his face for an appropriately aunt-y amount of time, Peter decides that a text is probably not going to be enough. He pulls on his suit, slips out his window and swings across Queens to her apartment window. He toes open the door, literally with his toes, and climbs inside.

It’s late, Happy didn’t drive him back until camp was over and May spent over an hour coddling him, so he doesn’t expect to find her awake.

She’s not quite asleep from what he can tell but her eyes are drooping and the book in her lap is falling to the side of her bed. He drops his feet gingerly to her floor and catches the book just before it hits the ground.

That catches MJ’s attention. She blinks awake more and stares at Peter in disbelief, “You’re…are you here?”

“Irondad is letting me out on the weekends,” he can’t help but smile.

She takes her book from his hands and smacks his forearm with it, “And you didn’t text me?”

Peter winces for her benefit and tears off his mask so she can see his smile, “I didn’t know what to say.”

“How about, ‘oh MJ coming home this weekend’? That seems reasonable.”

“Vision caught me jerking off,” is the first stupid thought that comes to Peter’s mind. And for some reason he voices it. He’s not sure what makes him so ridiculous awkward and terrible but, man, once that’s out in the open he can’t exactly take it back.

She blinks at him, “Um…okay? Why are you telling me about this?”

“I just,” Peter coughs to try and stifle his blush, “Being upstate after he told everyone was a little much. I needed a breather.”

“Because Vision caught you jerking off?” Michelle has the audacity to smirk at him.

“Don’t say that,” Peter groans.

“What?” she teases, “that Vision caught you jerking off?”

“MJ,” he warns.

“Sorry. I won’t keep bringing up that Vision caught you jerking off.”

He steps toward her, “MJ. I mean it.”

“Vision caught you jerking off, did you know that?”

“MJ, stop it,” he takes another step and suddenly they are crowded against her desk so close that he can count her eyelashes.

It’s the kind of closeness that makes Peter nervous and he suddenly wishes he had a better read on MJ. She looks unmoved but he hopes that she’s at least feeling something. Anything for him.

He can hear Vision in his head telling him to be himself. And Doctor Banner saying he deserves happiness. And Thor reminding him he is strong and has a good heart. And Nat bringing up everything about MJ that makes being a superhero bearable. And, finally, Tony and Steve letting him know that it is okay to be a teenager, to have fun (just not too much).

“MJ, I-”

“We should date,” MJ beats him to the punch.

And Peter imagines he must look like he got punched. “W-what?” he stutters.

“We should date,” she repeats, looking more irritated with him than before. “You’re gone a lot so we don’t really have the time to beat around the bush. So we should date.”

“Yeah,” he grins, “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

“I know,” she states proudly.

Peter narrows his eyes, confusion pooling, “How do you know?”

“Because you definitely jacked off to the thought of me at the Avengers’ headquarters.”

“I did not!” Peter feels the heat in his face. It’s so embarrassingly intense.

“You totally did.” And she kisses him quiet. Their first kiss isn’t passionate or lingering or long. It’s a reassuring peck of the mouth, like MJ is sealing her closing argument on the case of the Avenger Tower Jack-off. “Otherwise it wouldn’t have been, like, the first thing you would have told me after not seeing me for weeks. I was on your mind, Tiger.”

“Tiger is not going to be a thing,” Peter replies, dumfounded from the kiss.

“So you don’t deny you jacked off to the thought of me.”

He grumbles, “I might have.”

And MJ looks so delighted he can’t even find it in myself to be mad. He kisses her, again, more properly this time. Actually, he thinks, he’s almost kind of glad that Vision caught him that late-night in the towers.

Almost.

#anon #asks #headcanon ask #headcanon #this got so out of hand guys #take over 3000 words of nonsense #spideychelle #and that is what this is #this is straight up nonsense #STRAIGHT UP

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lovemesomerafael · 5 years ago

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Destroying the Planet to Save It Chapter 8: Simplest Thing In The World, Pal

Chapters 1-5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Read It On AO3

You don’t last long as a spy without some pretty damn good hearing. Sure, Clint’s was now largely of the electronic variety, but that was a good thing; the hearing he was born with would not have picked up the almost nonexistent clues that someone was coming. A spy also needs good instincts, which is why Natasha had already scoped out the control room and knew that one of the doors from the larger space led to a small office, with an even smaller closet inside. So when Clint indicated that they needed to hide, she didn’t question him, just motioned him to follow.

It was a very small closet.

Whoever the sixth guard was, he was impressively stealthy. Even though they knew he was there, Clint and Natasha had trouble hearing where he was in the control room. Luckily, a spy needs cool gadgets, and Natasha had placed a miniscule camera on top of a console in the control room, where it looked like nothing but a paper fastener. They were able to actually watch the intruder (well, technically they were the intruders, but Natasha didn’t get too hung up on finding the right word) as he stalked them. It became obvious fairly soon that he was not positive there was anyone there. He knew there was someone in the complex, but his body language and the way he searched while keeping alert to the hallway told them that he didn’t know he’d cornered them.

Natasha dimmed the screen on her viewer and huddled close to Clint so they could both see. Not that huddling was exactly optional, in a closet that wasn’t even technically a walk-in. The only way to stand was chest to chest, and Clint’s hands went naturally to Natasha’s hips as they put their heads together, check to cheek, to watch the little screen. In the cramped quarters, her free hand had nowhere to go but to rest on his shoulder.

The guard sat down at a console and began searching through feeds from the cameras Natasha hadn’t disabled. He didn’t appear to be looking at recordings, he was using the cameras to search for the intruders all over the complex. That was a good thing; if he looked at recorded footage of this room, he’d find them in a matter of moments. They didn’t want to kill him; thus far the only evidence they’d left was some fairly wild stories about a brokenhearted redhead with seriously kick-ass weed, which hopefully wouldn’t trip Arias to the fact that they’d searched his underground building. There was no end to the dumbassery bored and unsupervised employees could get up to. But a body would be a definite clue that Arias needed to worry.

Five minutes into the guard’s search of camera feeds, Clint and Natasha started to feel fairly confident that he wasn’t going to search recordings, and didn’t know they were there. Which meant that they were just standing in the dark, in one another’s arms, waiting. Boredom, in this enclosed space, was not a good idea. Over the next few moments, Natasha became increasingly aware of the way Clint smelled; his very distinctive scent that she’d never smelled on any other man. She’d once tried to describe it to him, but could only explain that it was a clean scent with notes of freshly-cut wood and licorice. What she hadn’t told him was how deeply it affected her. Even now, she felt drawn to him, her body coming alive to the way he felt against her, having to fight to keep her eyes on the dim little screen.

Clint didn’t bother fighting. As soon as it became obvious that the guard hadn’t found them and wasn’t likely to, his attention drifted from the screen and began to focus on Natasha. He turned his head, nuzzling softly into her hair. If he made any effort to be subtle, it didn’t work, and he abandoned it quickly. His hands slid from her hips to the small of her back.

She looked up into his eyes, inches from her own and, silently, with a slight shake of her head and a beseeching look, tried to discourage him. He only lifted one side of his lips in a grin she knew only too well.

“Don’t,” she mouthed softly.

His grin faded to something more carnal as he felt her shift position, not to distance them, but to fit their bodies more closely together. He didn’t look away. He held her gaze, allowing his love, and his attraction, to show freely in his face, challenging her to deny her own feelings. Like he always did.

“I hate you,” she whispered.

She felt, more than heard, his gentle chuckle. “I know you do.”

She was the one who kissed him. He made sure that she always was. Her full lips softly captured his, sweet and familiar, yet somehow also forbidden, trembling with all that she suppressed. The sixth guard was entirely forgotten as their mouths moved against each other, her hand behind his neck unconsciously pressing him to her.

When she pulled away from the long kiss, eyes closed tight, Clint leaned forward, following her lips with his, trying to capture one last moment. But she looked down and away, so that only their foreheads touched.

“I love you,” he sighed softly.

The ghost of a smile was all she could manage, incongruous though it was with the pain etched on her exquisite features. “I know you do.”

“How about we get rid of this prick and go home?”

Natasha glanced at the screen again, then looked up and simply nodded. Clint kissed her on the forehead and opened the closet door.

When all was said and done, he did feel a little guilty about putting the sixth guy naked in the bunk with guard number five. Still, it was amusing to imagine what stories they’d tell themselves when they awoke with no memory of how they’d ended up naked together. Clint supposed that, if he needed to, the sixth guy could tell himself he’d kicked the fifth out of bed. The point was, whatever they said to themselves or each other, it was very, very unlikely that they’d say anything to anyone else.

*****

Steve stood looking out the windows of his hotel room at the sleeping city of Atlanta. It was late, and answers were coming way too slowly, which meant he should sleep now, while there was nothing he could do. He hated this part. He was lousy at waiting, always had been. But he was no scientist, and he was no Tony Stark. Right this minute, he felt completely useless: a finely-tuned, exquisitely-engineered fighting machine, with nothing and no one to fight.

His phone rang, startling him with the insistent ring tone he’d apparently thought was a good idea at one time. He got a second shock when he saw who was calling. Instinctively standing at attention, he touched the screen.

“Mr. President?”

“Steve, forgive me calling at this hour, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, Sir. I was awake.”

“I wanted to ask you for a favor.”

“Of course, Sir. How can I help?”

“Well, as you know, Adam Lattimore is going to be lying in state for forty-eight hours, starting tomorrow morning. I’ve been thinking that maybe it would be a good idea to have you and some of your team there, as inconspicuously as possible, just keeping an eye on things. We can’t know Adam wasn’t a target in this thing somehow.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. He didn’t think so. He also didn’t know why that would mean he needed to be protected now that he was dead. “Well, Sir, as you know, Director Coulson’s arranged to have S.H.I.E.L.D. agents there the entire time…”

“I know, I know, but I’d feel better if it was you.”

“I’m in Atlanta right now. And, really, Sir, that’s S.H.I.E.L.D’s area. They’re invisible. I’m kind of… not.”

“That’s what Phil Coulson’s telling me.”

“He’s right.”

President Burke’s sigh was profound enough that Steve realized he wasn’t the only one deeply concerned about whatever was happening. “Do you know anything? Phil’s got S.H.I.E.L.D. all over this thing, and I know Banner is holed up in New York working on it with some meteorological expert. Are you getting anywhere? I do not like the idea that some maniac’s out there with the capability to brew up storms like the one today.”

“Tony Stark’s working on something he found. He thinks he might be able to trace the source of the energy using, um… You know what? If I tried to explain it, I’d just get it hilariously wrong. That’s why you really want to talk to Sharon Carter about this. She understands it. I don’t.”

“I just got off the phone with her. And yes, she explained all that. To be honest, Steve, I’m just trying to keep the pressure on. By the way, how are Sergeant Barnes and Joss Emerson? I understand they’re at Emory. Are they getting what they need?”

“Yes, Sir. It’s a little hard to get Bucky to sit still for doctors, but Sharon helped with that. And with his healing capacity, he’ll be back to normal in a couple days. Agent Emerson needed surgery, but she’s stable and expected to make a full recovery. As I understand it, the only real problem is that Bucky won’t leave her side and he’s scaring the staff.”

Steve heard the President laugh quietly.

“I like the sound of that,” Burke said. “She’s one of mine. I know Fred Markoff likes to think the Secret Service reports to him, but when they’re protecting me and mine, I take it personally. And Joss is one of the best. She’s special. You tell Barnes if she needs anything, to let me know.”

“I’ll tell him, Sir.”

“Good. And keep me informed about these phenomena. Something about this, Steve…”

“I know, Sir. And we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“You do that. Good night, Captain.”

“Good night, Sir.”

Steve blew out his breath. Not really a phone call he’d needed right then. At least he’d gotten out of babysitting Lattimore’s body. That was something. He really didn’t think there was going to be any trouble at the Capitol; he doubted Lattimore had ever been a target. But Steve really did not fucking need the damn president calling him to ratchet up the pressure. He knew they needed to figure out what was happening. And right now, Steve Rogers couldn’t do jack shit about it except wait and worry.

This was probably one of those moments when Sharon would tell him that worrying was a waste of energy. She’d say that he should let the experts handle things and take care of himself until he was needed. But he had no idea how the hell to do that. Pacing in front of the hotel room windows wasn’t helping, but he knew for a fact he couldn’t sleep. He thought about Sharon. What would she tell him to do?

Steve smiled to himself. Maybe she’d tell him to just lie back, like she had the other day. Just the thought of how deliciously shocked he’d been when she’d seduced him, and how unbelievably good she’d made him feel, had his body instantly on board with the idea of calling her room. But if he did, she’d think it was just what people now called a “booty call,” a concept he found distasteful. To his 1940’s sensibilities, it seemed utterly disrespectful, and Steve wasn’t willing to treat a woman like that. Especially not Sharon Carter.

Especially not Sharon Carter.

Because the thing was, by making the first move, she’d called his bluff. He’d pretended not to have any deep feelings for her, and to be interested in no more than laughs and a few kisses. He couldn’t even remember now why he’d thought she would be satisfied with that. He should have known a woman like Sharon wouldn’t be, and would ask for what she wanted. But then, he’d been trying to have it both ways. He wanted to be with her. He’d wanted that pretty much since they’d first met in the hallway of their apartment building, and his heated attraction had exploded into something much more serious when he discovered the courageous and brilliant S.H.I.E.L.D. agent she really was. His feelings for her had only grown with time and with all she’d shown herself to be. But Steve also knew he had nothing to offer her. He should never have started anything. And now… Now he knew she wanted him, too. Now she was on his mind constantly. Now part of the reason he couldn’t sleep was that she was just down the hall, beautiful and generous and with feelings for him that meant she’d open the door if he knocked.

All he wanted was to knock. He shook with how much he wanted to knock on her door. But he couldn’t. He already felt way too much for her.

Steve’s phone chirped.

Bucky: Hey, dumbass. You’re awake worrying, right? Bored. Call me.

Steve smiled at Bucky’s text. He marveled, as he always did, at the idea of the two of them texting each other at all. The boys they’d been would have thought texting was the coolest sort of spy tech.

Bucky answered on the first ring with, “I hate hospitals. Tell me again what the hell I’m doin’ here?”

“Trying to make time with a pretty girl.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Is it working?”

“Eh. Yes and no. She tried to get me to kiss her.”

“Sounds like it’s working, then.”

“She was sauced on pain meds at the time.”

“That does explain why a woman like that would want to kiss you.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“How are you doin’? How’s the ankle?”

“Better. Be good as new by tomorrow. Ribs still hurt.”

“How’s Joss?”

“Sleeping off the drugs. You shoulda seen her, Stevie. She was really in La La Land, said the cutest things. I think she likes me.”

“Yeah? What makes you think so?”

“She called me gorgeous and said she has a real thing for me. Hey, what’s a Kardashian?”

“They’re bad guys on Star Trek, I think. You haven’t gotten to the ones with them yet.”

Bucky’s voice went quiet and thoughtful. “Huh. Okay. Weird.”

“So, how’d you know I was pacing and stewing?” Steve asked.

“Known you a while, pal,” Steve could hear Bucky’s smirk through the phone.

“Actually, I was just standin’ here trying to figure out how not to do it, but I’m not havin’ any luck. I told you Sharon read me the riot act about it.”

“Think you just answered your own question, there.”

“How so?”

“Sharon, you meatball. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to take your mind off your troubles. And you’d be more than happy to let her. So what the hell are you standin’ there talkin’ to me for?”

“C’mon, Bucky, I’m not gonna call her at this hour. That would only mean one thing.”

“Uh-huh. And?”

“And you’re terrible! I’m not just gonna call her and say, ‘Hey, I’m having a hard time waiting for the eggheads to figure this thing out, why don’t you distract me?’ She’s better than that.”

“Except I think that’s exactly what she told you to do, isn’t it? And I, for one, heartily approve of a girl who would say something like that. Why don’t you lose the altar boy uniform, huh?”

“Stop it. You’re talking about her like she’s… Betty Simkins.”

“She is Betty Simkins, Stevie. All girls are Betty Simkins these days. You don’t hear me complainin’.”

“You always were a horndog.”

“Damn straight. You should try it, especially now that you’re not gonna snap like a twig if some girl wants to hug you.”

“For Pete’s sake, Buck.”

“All I’m sayin’ is, you worry too much. If a girl like Sharon wants to help you knock it off, then you’re a fool if you don’t let her. What is your problem with her, anyway? You like her, right?”

“’Course I do. A lot. But you know I can’t date anyone.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I never know when I’m gonna need to go running off to fight some freak with a cape who gives himself a scary nickname and tries to hurt people. And I never know if I’m comin’ back.”

“Which is exactly why you should be dating every chance you get. Besides, I’m the guy at your six, and you better believe I’m not givin’ up girls.”

“You don’t think it’s… unfair? I mean, if she wants more than just a casual thing?”

“Does she?”

“She says she loves me.”

“What? She said that? You really are a dumbass if she said she loves you and you’re alone in a hotel room talkin’ to me. I fear for your sanity, I really do. Even more than usual.”

“Yeah, yeah… I’m tryin’ to do the right thing here.”

“Well, try a little harder. Because there’s nothing unfair about being with a girl you really like, especially if she says she loves you. What’s unfair is treatin’ her like you been treatin’ her. Like you don’t care.”

“I don’t know…”

“Then trust your Uncle Bucky. I got a lot more experience than you do. You like this girl, and you should. She’s great. I’m tellin’ ya’, just put on somethin’ nice and go down to her room, and see if you can’t talk her into a little horizontal polo. She deserves some attention, and you need to turn your damn fool brain off. Two birds, one stone.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Simplest thing in the world, pal.”

Steve sighed. “All right. Fine. I’ll call her and see if she’s awake. If she is, then… We’ll see.”

“Good man. Make me and Betty Simkins proud.”

Steve was chuckling as he pushed the “end” button on his phone. But it took him a while to find the courage to… Well, he didn’t find the courage to call Sharon. He texted her, instead.

Steve Rogers: Are you awake?

Sharon Carter: Hi. U OK?

Steve Rogers: Sure. Just having trouble sleeping.

Sharon Carter: Want some company?

Steve smiled. Of course Sharon would be generous and direct. For a guy with as many hang-ups as Steve had, the fact that Sharon just spoke her mind was yet another thing he found wildly attractive about her. It reminded him of Peggy. He’d liked that about Peggy, too.

Steve Rogers: It’s not too late?

Sharon Carter: Not if you’re stressing about this energy thing like I think you are.

Steve Rogers: Trying not to. Seems to be what I do best.

Sharon Carter: No, it isn’t. 😊 Come on down. I’m in 1245.

Huh. Apparently she wasn’t too troubled by the booty call thing.

*****

Anita had masterfully bobbed and weaved all afternoon and evening. So far, although Arias seemed to think things were going very well between them, he’d only managed to kiss her on the hand, the cheek, and the side of her head. The amount of stroking of her arms, hair, back, and hips would have gotten another guy at least a withering verbal takedown, if not a semi-permanent groin injury, but she was holding herself in check because she had learned some very interesting things about Jarman Arias.

She needed to talk to Sam.

At one am., Sam wandered out to the beach, apparently a little the worse for drink and with a bikini-clad woman on each arm. He saw Anita trying to fend off a particularly egregious pass from Arias, and excused himself from his new friends for a moment.

“Hey, Baby, I haven’t seen you for a while. You doin’ all right?”

“I’m A-OK, Sam. You?”

Oh. That was the signal. Guess it’s time. “Well, I would like to talk to you for a minute.”

“Well…” Anita looked slyly at Arias. “It’s not a particularly good time, right this minute. Can it wait?”

“No, Anita, it fucking well can’t wait. Excuse us, Señor Arias. I’d like to talk to my girlfriend for a minute.”

Arias smiled smugly. “Of course, Sam. Is that all right with you, princesa?”

“I’ll just be a minute,” she purred, moving away as though it was the last thing she wanted to do.

Sam walked Anita several feet until they were standing in the wet sand, where the edge of a wave occasionally reached their toes.

“You ready?”

“There are no words for how ready I am. And I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I’ve done pretty well, myself.” Sam lifted his chin a fraction of an inch and raised his voice. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sam, just relax, OK, Baby?” Anita matched his volume. “You made some friends, it looks like. This is what we-“

Sam leaned in toward Anita and spoke softly, as though angrily. “This is me saying something really rude.”

“What did you just say to me?” Anita shrieked.

“You heard me.” Sam now leaned back and crossed his arms.

“C’mon, Sammy… Don’t be like that. You know I love you. I’m just havin’ a little fun! You go ahead, you have fun, too. We said this was a free weekend, didn’t we?”

For the next five minutes, Sam and Anita argued while Arias watched, amused. Their fight began at a fairly low level, but developed into one of those drunken, all-out lovers’ spats that Sam had promised himself long ago he’d never be part of, at least for real. Right now, he was actually enjoying it quite a bit. When Anita began to push and shove at Sam and their voices raised to the level that others on the beach began to notice, Arias walked over, greasy smile fully deployed.

“Oh, now, Sam, you’re hurting my guests’ feelings,” he said, indicating the two women who’d come out to the beach with Sam. Neither looked particularly pleased. “Why spend time on unpleasantness when you could be having a very pleasant time with these ladies?”

Sam turned a fierce scowl on him. “I know you ain’t tryna tell me how to talk to my woman.”

“Sam, mira-“

“Yeah. ‘Course you are. You been all over her all day,” Sam slurred, having just a bit of trouble keeping his footing on the sand.

“Sammy, please…” Anita whined.

“Nuh-uh. You got a choice here, Anita. You best decide.”

With that, he turned and began to stalk in a slightly crooked line back to the villa. Anita, her eyes full of distress, looked from him to Arias and back. With a little cry, she began to run after Sam.

“Sammy, wait! Please, Baby, don’t be like that!”

Arias watched, his amusement gone for the moment, until he realized his good fortune. “Well, ladies, it seems we’ve been deserted. Won’t you join me for a nightcap?”

The two women who had come down to the beach with Sam didn’t hesitate to stroll back up the sand with Arias.

It occurred to Sam that, since their room was being watched, he and Anita were going to have to figure out how to end their argument in a somewhat believable way. He needn’t have worried. Anita never broke character, grabbing needily onto his arm as she reached him on the wide patio and begging him tipsily to forgive her. He remained stonily silent until they got to their room, where he finally turned to her. When he did, what he saw in her eyes knocked his brain instantly and completely offline.

“I’m sorry, Baby,” she purred, placing her body against his and putting her arms around his neck. She was panting, and clearly not from the walk up from the beach. “I love you. Only you.” She kissed him then, mouth open and hotly demanding. “C’mon, Sammy, let me make it up to you.”

Sure, Sam had done a little role playing in his time, but this was a new one. He wanted to think it through, decide whether this might mean for him and Anita in the real world. He liked her. He wanted to date her, get to know her. And this would be the first time they had sex. Even if it wasn’t, under normal circumstances, he’d never engage in something like this without a very frank discussion beforehand. Boundaries. Maybe even a safe word. But Anita was committed, and she didn’t seem in the least concerned about the cameras. In fact, Sam wondered if the idea that they were likely being watched wasn’t a little bit of a turn on for her. Like it was for him.

“You let him touch you.” He growled, looking down at her and remaining rigid, not putting his arms around her.

“I know, Baby,” she said, kissing him some more and rubbing her body against his. “He’s rich. He’s important. And I thought you and me had an agreement. But if you’re not OK with it, then I won’t do it, Baby. I’m here. I’m here with you, Hmmm?”

She slid her hands from his neck to his collarbones and over to his shoulders, pushing his shirt down his arms and letting it fall to the floor. Now he did the same, pushing her lacy cover-up off. She reached up to untie the top of her red bikini while he untied the straps on her back, keeping his eyes on hers the entire time.

“You forgive me, Baby? Will you let me make it up to you?” She asked, taking a small step backwards to let the top fall from her and give him the opportunity to fill his eyes with her full breasts. Then he filled his hands with them.

“You let him touch you here?” He asked, keeping that cruel edge to his voice and on his face as he cupped her and dragged his thumbs across her erect, brown nipples.

She sucked in her breath. “No. Only you, Sam.”

“Damn right, only me. Now take those bottoms off and lay down.”

Oh, shit. No turning back now. Sam was way into this all of a sudden. The fire in Anita’s eyes and the shudder in her breathing told him he wasn’t alone. She was very quickly naked and lying in the center of the bed, panting and looking at him with a hunger he could see even in the darkness of the room lit only by the flickering light from the patio torches outside. He took his time dropping his shorts and stood for a moment, desire coiling in his belly as he watched her eyeing his cock, already fully hard.

He knelt on the bed and crawled to her, coming to rest with his weight on his knees between her legs and his hands on either side of her shoulders, not touching her. She was panting and the slightest sheen of sweat glowed on her face.

“You made me mad, Anita.”

“I’m sorry, Sam. Please...”

“You know what I gotta do, don’t you.”

She took in a shuddering gasp and nodded, eyes wide, as he pushed her legs further apart with his knees, leaning down until the tip of his cock was at her entrance, which he noticed was wet as hell. There was no foreplay, no warning, unless the last three days could be counted as extended foreplay, which Sam suddenly realized they pretty much had been. He shoved roughly into her, both of them crying out as he did.

“You’re a fucking bad girl, Anita.”

“I am,” she grunted. “I am. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sam!”

“Whose are you, huh? Who do you belong to?”

“You! I belong to you. Only you!”

“Anybody else get to fuck you?”

“No! Just you!”

“Who else gets this pussy?”

“Nobody, Sam. I belong to you. I’m yours… Fuck!”

“Anybody else get to make you come?”

“Just you, Sam!”

He kept up an intense rhythm, pounding brutally into her, feeling her pulling at him and pushing up to him with her feet on the mattress, letting him know she was into what he was doing.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Anita. Makes me crazy, thinkin’ about that fat fuck puttin’ his hands on you. You’re mine. Say it! You’re mine!”

“I’m yours! Yes, I’m- I’m yours, only yours!”

Sam began to kiss her roughly, invading her mouth with his tongue. He hoped his uncontrolled lust looked, to the cameras, like the anger and possessiveness he was supposed to be feeling. “Fuckin’ mine, Anita. All of you, mine.”

He continued to kiss her roughly, moving his mouth down her neck, not caring whether he was leaving marks and kind of hoping he was. He had to pull out of her to move lower, and also to keep himself from coming already, the way she was fucking him as hard as he was fucking her. He devoured her body with harsh kisses and nips, actually growling from time to time in his blind need. Her groans, the way she kept pushing up toward his mouth, reassured him that she was as into this as he was.

When he entered her with two fingers, she ground down onto them and threw her arms up over her head, abandoning herself completely to him. He was a little ashamed of the teeth marks he left on her hip on that one, but only for the briefest of moments. When he kissed and licked his way to her mound, he looked up to see her watching him, her face a mask of purest wanton desire.

“Say it.”

“I’m yours. Yours,” she breathed.

“Anybody else get to eat this pussy?”

“Nobody. Only you, Baby.”

Sam went to work with his tongue, keeping up a sure, steady rhythm with his fingers as he teased the hard nub of her clit. As he licked and sucked at her, moaning and murmuring filthy praise, Anita hissed a stream of overwrought words of pleasure in Spanish, grinding herself against his mouth. He had to keep from rubbing his leaking cock against the mattress, listening to the animal sounds she made. Many steamy, groan-filled minutes later, Sam began to feel her muscles tensing, and knew that she was close.

Without warning, he bent his knees and pushed up, putting his arms under her and rolling them over so that she was sprawled atop him.

“You want to come, Baby?”

“Fuck yeah, Sam. Please.”

“I want you to come on my cock. Show me you’re mine. Let me see you come on my cock so I know it’s me you love. Can you do that?”

“Oh, yeah. I can do that for you. I want to do that for you.” She put her knees on the mattress, putting her weight on them and using her thighs to lift and lower herself on him. Reaching down, she began to finger herself, looking at Sam the whole time. “Like this, Baby? This what you want?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Shit, Baby, you look so fuckin’ good right now, you have no idea. You’re so beautiful…”

“And I’m yours, Sam. I’m all yours. I’m… oh, shit…”

“Come for me, Baby. C’mon. Show me who you belong to-“

Anita tried to keep her eyes on Sam’s, but as she moved more and more wantonly against him, rubbing herself faster and faster, they squeezed shut and she threw her head back. “Oh, fuck, Sam! Fuck, your dick is so good-“ With that, she gave a series of hard shivers and shouted through gritted teeth as she rode was felt to Sam to be a powerful orgasm. As she spasmed around him, Sam gave himself over to the sensations, bucking up into her until he, too, came with a cry loud enough to wake the rest of the house, had anyone been sober, or sleeping. Of course, no one was.

#The Avengers #Captain America #Bucky Barnes #Natasha Romanoff #The Winter Soldier #Clint Barton #Sam Wilson #Falcon #Steve Rogers #Sharon Carter

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vindictivegrace · 8 years ago

Text

Sloppy Seconds

(Bucky Barnes x Reader) x Steve Rogers

Notes: THE TITLE IS SELF EXPLANATORY, PWP, one shot, smut. Established relationship (Bucky x Reader), unlabeled relationship dynamic, explicit sex scenes, messy sex, threesome, DP, the author is going to hell for this, her bags are already packed

Summary: You and Bucky head home, ready to place the finishing touches on your date night. Steve calls, and everyone gets what they needed.

A/N: I needed this, too. Partly because I’m procrastinating on another story I should be writing, partly because I haven’t posted any new fics in a while, and partly because I needed this. Did you need it too? Let me know what you think, and as always—enjoy! ^_^

Bucky held your hand gently with his flesh one, leading you down the hallway to his room. You were both quiet but giggling innocently. Date night had gone well. It was a simple night out—movie and a dinner. You always preferred it in that order instead of the other way around. Watching the movie first meant that dinner didn’t have to be rushed. But you two skipped dessert to save time anyway. The real treat would come later in the night.

You were back in Bucky’s room. The lights were dimmed and soft ambient music filtered through Bucky’s computer speakers. The mood was set just the way you liked it. He approached you quietly, eying you sweetly. Both of your clothes came off easily, and soon Bucky had you on the ground in the nest of blankets and pillows set up in the corner. He rested his muscular, naked body between your equally naked legs and leaned over you. Bucky peppered kisses wherever he could until he finally met your lips. He ground his pelvis against yours, feeling your pussy get slick against his cock without slipping himself in quiet yet. He wanted to warm you up first.

Off in the pile of discarded clothes, Bucky’s phone began to ring. Neither of you noticed until it stopped and your phone started ringing right afterwards. Then Bucky’s twice. Back to yours again.

Bucky grinned against your lips before getting to his feet. “Oh right, our treat.” His semi-hard bobbed from side to side as he walked over to the clothes and dug out his phone. It was Steve.

The phone rang again and Bucky answered immediately.

“Hey Steve, you ready to come over?”

“Well what do you think, asshole?” The room was quiet enough that you could hear Steve’s tinny voice through Bucky’s phone. He sounded eager and impatient. You laughed.

Bucky toyed with Steve. “Well I dunno, man,” he replied. “I haven’t even asked Y/N if it’s okay yet.”

Bucky already knew you could hear Steve over the phone. He pulled the phone away to ask you, loud enough for Steve to hear. “Is it all right with you, Y/N? Sounds like he really needs it tonight.” He tried to hold back the sly grin growing in his face, but he couldn’t help himself. You noticed his semi-hard is growing.

You couldn’t help yourself, either.

“Of course, Bucky,” You played along, even though this was the plan the whole night. “It’s been awhile since Steve’s come over, anyway.”

Bucky returned to the call and gave Steve the OK to come over. Not even five minutes later, there was a frantic knocking on Bucky’s door. Either Steve was already in the hallway waiting for you and Bucky to say yes, or he was so desperate he ran over.

As soon as Bucky opened the door, Steve rushed in, flustered, rosy cheeked, breathless, and determined. You were never able to completely prepare yourself for the hurricane of Steve’s lust crashing through. He took off his clothes immediately, and in an instant he was completely nude and occupying the same space between your open legs that Bucky had not a moment ago.

Bucky let out a chuckle. He always got a kick out of Steve when he was like this. Bucky’s expression grew darker as he made his way to the nearby armchair. He made himself comfortable, settling with a sigh and his now large, rock hard cock in his hand. He stroked himself idly, ready to watch as Steve hurriedly had his way with you.

Steve was rough. He shoved himself inside you right away and began thrusting, whether you were ready for him or not. Luckily, Bucky’s little warmup with you made you wet enough to handle it whatever Steve was going to give you. You screamed out anyway.

Steve gripped your upper arms and had you pinned down to the ground hard while he plowed into you relentlessly. He shoved his lips onto yours and kissed you just as wildly. He broke the kiss to lap at the sensitive spot on your neck and sucked hard. You knew your neck would bruise there later. He moved to suck one of your nipples until it hardened between his lips, while he kneaded your other breast as much as he could. His thrusting pace never once faltered.

When he broke away from your chest, his hazy lust filled eyes bore into yours. You gave yourself up to Steve, your body just lax enough to let him have complete control. Soon you were able to catch up with his hurried pace and you were matching him thrust for thrust.

Steve’s hips starting jerking in and out erratically. He was getting close. The first round was always the quickest. That was fine with you (and Bucky) because Steve would be ready for round three in no time.

You reached up to palm the back of Steve’s head and pull him close so yours. “C’mon, Stevie,” you coaxed. “Cum in my pussy. I know you wanna do it. I’m right here for you. Fill me up right, big boy. Make me feel good, big boy. I wanna drip all over with you. Yeah, Stevie, yeah! That’s it! Yeah! Yeah!” you kept huffing.

“Y/N…I…AH!” You felt Steve’s body spasm against yours and his hot cum gathering deep inside you. When he was done, he dropped his full weight on you for a moment. He was breathing hard. His whole face was red, and rosy blotches peppered his large frame. He was glistening. The scent of sweat and spunk already lingered in the air.

Bucky walked up to the nest of blankets and kneeled over to place a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You okay bud?” Steve nodded. “Why don’t you take a rest over in the armchair? I’ll take it from here.” Steve rolled over and sighed deeply, his forearm covering his face. His softened cock was already hardening again. He’d be back in no time.

Bucky shook his head at the spent super-soldier and assumed his position up against you anyway. If Steve wanted to lay right next to you two and watch, or listen, or pass out, or whatever he was doing on the ground, then so be it, Bucky thought.

“How’re you doing, Y/N?” Bucky checked in with you.

“I’m doing great,” you sighed. “But I would feel better if you got on with it.”

“Of course, doll.” Bucky slid himself inside your pussy and moaned loudly.

Sloppy seconds was Bucky’s absolute favorite—that’s why despite being your boyfriend, he always let Steve fuck you first when the three of you were together. Steve knew how to fill you up just right, and having his cum and your juices coat Bucky’s cock made Bucky’s mind reel with intoxicating pleasure. Bucky liked to go slow and savor the feeling. Your core was so wet and slick and ridiculously hot, and each time he pushed his cock in he could feel Steve’s cum spill out around the edges. It dripped onto Bucky’s balls and splattered up his lower waist and covered your thighs and his. Nothing felt better to Bucky. He lulled his head down and connected his lips to yours, moaning loudly as if he was devouring his first meal after being lost in a desert for weeks on end. Apparently Bucky needed this tonight, too.

Bucky pulled away from your lips and brought his thrusting to a comfortable, sensual pace. It was just enough to keep you wanting for more and a nice contrast to Steve’s jackhammering moment ago. Bucky’s cock moving in and out between the extra cum and your juices made you feel so damn hot down there. Obscene squishing sounds filled the air while Bucky kept fucking you. You were gasping and moaning so much now.

Bucky picked you up, leaned himself back into a seated position, and rested you on his sturdy thighs. He held you down by your ass so he could grind into you more forcefully. Steve’s cum was dribbling out everywhere. Bucky was groaning along with you now and kissing you wherever he could. He made sure to shift you just right so his grinding rubbed up against your clit. When he found the right angle, you shuddered violently and strings of gibberish and curses fell out of your mouth.

“Mmmm…It’s your turn, Y/N,” Bucky breathed out. “That’s it. Just like that, doll. Yes…you’re doing great. You make me feel so good. I wanna make you feel good too. Cum for me, baby. You’re almost there. Yes… I can feel it. You feel great, doll. You feel so good with Stevie’s cum all over my cock. Making a mess all over me,” Bucky cooed against your ear.

Bucky could feel your walls tighten around his cock. Your breath quickened. You and he both were covered in a thin layer of sweat. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck and gave him a messy, tongue-filled kiss right before you broke away groaned out your orgasm.

“Ah…that’s it doll. Mmm…You’re so beautiful when you cum,” Bucky said through your release. He kept fucking into you through your orgasm. Your walls pulsated around his cock through each wave of pleasure, and soon he too was releasing into you. You could feel spurts of warmth blossom from inside your core and the wetness overflow past your entrance and ooze wherever it could go.

“Oh my god…” you huffed out, ecstasy and exhaustion laced in your voice. “Oh my god…” You flopped back onto the pile of blankets and pillows. Bucky fell over to lie next to you. You were both doing whatever you could to catch your breath.

But Steve, who had been jacking off while lying on his side the whole time during Bucky’s round, was alert and ready to go. You turned your head to the side, locking eyes with Steve, and you laughed.

He shrugged at you, and himself, and the whole situation you three were in. “Sorry, Y/N. I can’t help it!” Now he was laughing too. His cock head glistened. Precum was steadily flowing from his slit and pooling onto the floor. Steve always produced so much that he had an unbelievable amount to share. You clenched your legs, fully aware of the fact, feeling his and Bucky’s heated cum and your juices mingling inside your pussy and slowly finding its way out.

You rolled to your side and scooted your body closer to Steve’s. When you got close enough, you reached out with your top hand and laid it over the hand Steve was using to rub himself. He slowed down the work he was doing to himself, opting to let you guide his hand back and forth over his engorged cock.

“Y/N…” he breathed out. The warmth behind his voice washed over your face, and you sighed. You weren’t ready to get fucked again, not yet, and Bucky was still out of it. But you thought of something else you could do to help Steve out in the meantime.

You motioned for Steve to get up and kneel. While he did so, you leaned up and got on your hands and knees right in front of him. You used your hand to encourage Steve let his hand go of his cock, and holding Steve at the base, you took him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck, y-y-yess…” Steve stammered. You were thorough with him. You brought his cock deep into your mouth and pulled out slowly, licking the underside of his member with your flattened tongue. You went back and forth this way, again and again. When only his cockhead remained in your mouth, you massaged it between your tongue and your lips. Steve’s precum soaked your lips and dribbled down your chin as it filled your mouth.

You sucked Steve’s cock deep into your mouth again and swallowed his precum, making sure Steve could feel every movement inside your mouth. You closed your eyes and hummed around him, savoring his taste and the whimpers escaping his mouth. Steve’s hands palmed the sides of your face, only allowing it to follow your movements and no more. He was trembling from trying so hard not to fuck a hole through the back of your head like he wish he could.

You yipped. Suddenly you felt a cool palm stroking your ass.

“Mmm, what are you doing, doll? You helping Stevie out like a good girl?” Bucky was kneeling next to you now, looking down Steve’s cock disappearing repeatedly into your mouth. He looked at Steve. “Is that what she’s doing, buddy? Making you feel good? Does her sweet little mouth feel good, pal?” Steve was trying to steady his breathing so he could talk. “Yeah, Buck. Y/N’s mouth feels—oooh!” You started sucking more deliberately and hollowed your cheeks. “Her mouth is amazing,” Steve continued.

“Hey, Stevie. Don’t you think Y/N is amazing?”

“Yeah, umph, she...ah! She is, Bucky. She really is…” “Let’s show her how amazing we think she is then.” Bucky crawled over to kneel behind your ass. He slipped his metal index and middle finger into your core and pumped in and out. His whole hand was immediately coated. Bucky’s actions made you moan around Steve’s cock, causing Steve to groan along with you.

Bucky pulled his fingers out and sucked them into his mouth, lapping up everyone’s intermingled essence, savoring the nuances of the hybrid flavor. He then lined himself up and slipped back into your oversoaked pussy.

No one was talking anymore. Only the sound of skin smacking against skin, squishy wetness, and moans and sighs filled the room. The music had stopped playing long ago, but none of you cared. Steve tightened his hold around your cheeks and snapped his hips against your mouth like he wanted to, and Bucky ground into your pussy from behind, his movements much faster than they were before. The two super-soldiers fell into a rhythm that left you breathless and incapable of pulling back and recuperating—exactly how you liked it. You were surrounded by sex. You needed this. You were looking forward to this all night. You moaned and keened the loudest out of the three of you, and the loudest you had all night.

Bucky smacked your ass hard and picked up the pace. You cried out, trying desperately to call out his name, but only Steve’s cock caught your muffled gag. He sped up too.

There was so much cum everywhere. While he kept jerking hips against your bottom, Bucky had no problem swiping some up around his metal fingers again. He used his index finger to toy with your exposed entrance between your butt cheeks. You twitched at the sudden sensation, understanding what was about to happen. You lowered your front half and raised your ass higher, presenting yourself to Bucky’s whims in the back. Bucky fingered the ring of muscles before padding at the opening, and then gently pushing his finger in. He looked at Steve on the other side and watched his partner’s hazy eyes look down your body to what he was up to. Steve got the hint, too. He looked up at Bucky and winked. A sultry smile spread across Steve’s face. Bucky matched Steve’s smile with his own.

Soon, Bucky was able to fit his whole index finger in your asshole, followed by another finger, and another. It didn’t take so long considering everything the three of you have been up to all night. You were about to lose it. All three of your holes were stuffed and stimulated in the right spots. You could feel your release coming closer. You tried to warn your boys, but it was difficult to speak when your mouth was stuffed with cock (like you wanted it to be). Steve and Bucky could feel something happen though, and probably traded nonverbal cues, because they both slowed down and eventually pulled out before you could drown in your orgasm.

You were trembling violently. You needed that release, but you were also grateful for the short reprieve. You knew what was coming. Everything between your legs clenched hard in anticipation. You could feel Bucky rub his cock up and down between your butt cheeks. He then touched the tip of his cock to your prepped entrance and pushed in slowly, more slowly than he had with his fingers before.

You swore loudly. It was intense, almost painful, and you could feel every bit of Bucky’s cock shifting into you inch by inch. After several minutes of heavy panting and patient movements, Bucky was finally flush against your ass. He held you by your shoulders, pulled your back up to his chest, and guided you to lie back on his reclined body. Bucky spread his legs out to each side of you, opening up his pelvis and helping him slide up inside just a little more. Your knees were up, your feet were flat on the floor and your legs opened almost as wide as Bucky’s. You two sat like that for another minute so you could get used to his cock.

When you were ready, Bucky hooked his arms under your thighs to pull your legs back, your knees next to your head and your feet in the air, presenting your pussy to Steve. Steve crawled into the space between yours and Bucky’s legs and kissed you passionately on the lips. He pushed himself in carefully, slowly, and then he too was inside you to the hilt.

The three of you waited, this overloaded and powerful sensation alone threatening to make everyone cum. This wouldn’t last much longer, at least not for you, double stuffed and sandwiched in between Steve and Bucky like that—exactly the way you all loved it.

“Do it,” you panted out.

Bucky ground his pelvis against you in all the circular patterns he could think of, while Steve pulled his cock almost all the way out and slid all the way back into your pussy. It was slow and methodic and the two super soldiers were perfectly in sync with each other. You begged loudly to whoever could hear. Bucky and Steve were huffing and groaning around you. Each incidental graze between their cocks near your openings made them shudder. They could feel the ghost of their movements deep inside you too, the boundary between both of your centers being stretched thin.

Bucky whispered hotly against your ear. “You see what you do to us, Y/N? You see how badly we want to fuck you? We can’t even wait our turn, we have to go at it at the same time. Open your eyes, Y/N. Look at Steve fuck you. Look at his cock come in and out of that messy pussy of yours.” You did as Bucky said. Each time Steve drew back, you could see his large thick cock coated with all the slick inside you and all over you from tonight. You looked up at Steve through your hooded eyes and he leaned down to kiss you, deeply, moaning into it, encouraging you to keep enjoying the moment just a little longer.

Bucky kept grinding against you, his cock hot and pulsing deep inside your asshole. He could feel you tightening again. You were so close. “That’s it, Y/N, cum for us. One more time, doll. Let’s see your pretty face cum for us, one last time.”

Your last orgasm for the night quickly rushed in. You were shaking and clamping down on both Steve and Bucky now, and they each rode into you until they too had cum inside you. They pulled out slowly, and all three of you collapsed in a disheveled heap.

When you recovered moments later, you saw them together on the other side of the nest of blankets and pillows. Bucky was between Steve’s legs now, forcing his cock in and out Steve’s ass and clutching Steve’s member, stroking in time with his hips. Steve was keening and whining softly, while Bucky growled encouragement to help Steve and himself to their final release.

You studied them, feeling the arousal pool in your core and radiate out, but too exhausted to do anything about it. Bucky and Steve always described themselves as best friends, but the way they fucked clearly told a different story. The way the three of you messed around, repeatedly, exclusively, told a different story. But the meaning behind it all was a conversation for another time. You were content here in the moment.

When they finished resting, you saw Bucky and Steve get up and head towards the bathroom. Soon, Bucky was by your side with a warm, moistened washcloth. He cleaned up all the mess he and Steve made with you over your body and between your legs, all the while whispering sweet nothings. Steve kneeled over you with another damp washcloth to help clean you up, too. He leaned over to kiss you gently, sighing words only the three of you shared.

—End— My Masterlist My AO3

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #smut #reader fic #reader insert #you fic #fanfic #fanfiction #captain america #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #vindictivegracefanfic #once again i can't believe i wrote this #i'm going to hell #my bags are already packed

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