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cjsinkythoughts · 4 years ago

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Birthday Memories

Word Count: 1591

Warnings: A little angst, a bit of fluff, some recovery Bucky

Summary: Bucky figures out why birthdays are so important.

A/N: This is just a little something I put together for one of my favorite characters of all time to celebrate his birthday. It hasn’t been beta’d and I wasn’t planning on writing it, but my finger slipped. Oops. 😇

He didn’t tell anyone.

He didn’t want them to know. He didn’t want to be reminded that his life was taken away. He didn’t want to be reminded that he was over a century old.

He didn’t want to remember that the last birthday he ever had was in the midst of a war he never wanted, among friends who became brothers, and whom he’d never see again.

He didn’t want to remember the “party” he had with his family. How his sisters would give him something meaningful of theirs since they didn’t have money, usually a stuffie or a toy. How his mother would stay up all night decorating their small apartment with everything they could afford - streamers and a couple balloons, usually. How his father would work overtime to make him something at the shop; a small wagon he got for his eighth birthday, a wooden gun for his tenth, and a new baseball bat for his thirteenth after he broke the one he had for years. How his parents would scrape and save all year so that he could have that stupid chocolate brownie cake that he loved so much, but was extremely expensive, form the bakery down the street.

He didn’t want to remember how Sarah Rogers - one of the greatest women he’d ever met, a second mother to him - always came over early, dragging little Stevie along, to make those delicious blueberry pancakes she concocted, even though she was busy enough without stressing over him and his birthday breakfast. Even though she always had a new hat she made him every year and didn’t need to make food with a hard to come by fruit. Even though she was alone with her own sick son to worry about.

And Steve. He didn’t want to remember how he always stayed over for the night. How they would talk for hours about their dreams and aspirations. About where they were going to be by the time the next birthday hit. The blonde used to say that his birthday present from him was not having to bail him out of any fights. He always kept that promise; no fighting on Buck’s birthday. It wasn’t the only thing he got from his best pal, though. Steve always kept a sketchbook - a journal of sorts - illustrating their adventures throughout the year, starting the day after Bucky’s birthday when they always went to Coney Island, and ending on his birthday, whether it be a sketch of Bucky blowing out candles, or a drawing of the stars they looked at while talking later in the night.

He didn’t want to remember, because it hurt to do so.

Sometimes he wished he never remembered. It was a cruel thing. A life that he could never go back to. One that he wasn’t ready to leave, no matter how many times he told himself he was while sitting in muddy ditches with bullets flying over head.

Sometimes, on his bad days, he wished the experiments didn’t work. That Steve never came. That he was never “rescued” by that Soviet soldier. That he never survived the fall.

It just so happened that his birthday was one of those bad days.

He missed his life more than he let on. He missed his sisters. He missed his ma. He missed his pa. He missed when it was only him and tiny Stevie against the world. When they could do whatever they wanted, curious and innocent, exploring the big wide world as they knew it.

Turns out, the world is a lot bigger, and a lot scarier, than they thought.

He missed it, and he didn’t want to remember because it hurt, so he didn’t tell anyone, and he didn’t want anyone to find out. He stayed in his room all day, until he got too hungry to ignore around dinner time.

So he walked into the common room of the newly built Compound.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

He froze as confetti was shot out of those little hand-held cannons, balloons were dropped from the ceiling, and party horns were blown. His team - his friends and family, he had to remind himself - were beaming at him with party hats on their heads, frosting and flour on some of their cheeks. A banner reading, “HAPPY 107th BIRTHDAY, CYBORG!’ was hung up, no doubt courtesy of a certain birdbrain, along with streamers that looked like they were just thrown randomly.

He blinked, trying to process what was happening, before Sam had an arm over his shoulders, dragging him over to the table and sitting him down. Wanda set a plate of blueberry pancakes in front of him as Tony blasted music from the speakers overhead. A pile of gifts sat at the other end of the room, and the island counter was filled with all kinds of treats.

The team gathered around, laughing and teasing while eating the breakfast dinner that Bucky swore came straight from the 1920’s. Once they were done, a familiar chocolate brownie cake was placed in front of him, a gazillion candles on it, which he blew out in one breath to spite Sam, who said he couldn’t do it. Turns out, however, they were trick candles. Bucky rolled his eyes when Tony, Sam, Clint, and Pietro started laughing way too hard, but he couldn’t fight the small smile on his face.

He had yet to say more than a few words by the time they were done with the food and opening presents. He had gotten more books, a telescope, new boxing gloves, a teddy bear, a newsboy cap like the ones they used to have, and a wooden baseball bat along with a new glove (among other things). Tony even booked Coney Island the next day for the team to have it all to themselves.

It was too much; his brain was still processing all that had happened so suddenly in the past hour or two.

They knew. About everything. They knew about his birthday. They knew about the blueberry pancakes. They knew about the brownie cake. They knew about the hat and the baseball bat and Coney Island. They knew it all.

He didn’t have to question how. He looked up from the bear in his hands when something was placed in front of him. He met the ocean blue eyes of his best pal, and instantly knew what he’d done. How could anyone else know? How else could Wanda make blueberry pancakes that tasted just like Ma Sarah’s? How else would they find a hat that looked just like the last one she gave him when he turned 19 in 1936? How else would they know he, one of the most deadly assassins in the world, would want a teddy bear? How else would they know how much the silly decorations and the simple brownie cake meant to him?

Steve gave him that mischievous smile that never ceased to make Bucky chuckle, pushing the book he set on the table in front of him closer. “It’s a little more than a year…”

His icy blue gaze fell to the table, jaw clenching as he realized what it was. A sketchbook. Bigger, better quality than the ones he used to get, but that was to be expected. It was still torn up a little bit, the edges fading, the pages separating.

With shaky hands, he tugged the book closer and flipped through the pages. The Potomac River in DC. His little apartment in Bucharest. The airport in Germany. The Citadel in Wakanda. His hut in Wakanda. Him with his goats. Him and his new arm. Him and the team this past Thanksgiving when everyone came back. Him ice skating at Rockefeller Center during Christmas. New Years. Valentine’s Day. Snow days. Training. Watching movies. Playing games.

The very last couple pages were something he wasn’t expecting though; his family, new and old. Headshots of his smiling parents and sisters and Ma Sarah. The Commandos, laughing despite dirt on their cheeks and tears in their clothes. The Avengers doing signature poses with smirks and winks and cheeky grins. All perfectly drawn, safe in charcoal and ink, hidden protectively within the worn out sketchbooks covers.

“They’d want you to celebrate. So…happy birthday, jerk.”

Bucky’s eyes, prickling with unshed tears, making his vision slightly blurry, wandered up from the pages of black and white to the team, all smiling at him, before landing on Steve.

So maybe he missed the past. And maybe it hurt to remember. But he had Stevie with him, and he had his new team - his new family. And the blonde, as much as it hurt to admit it, was right. His old family would want him to celebrate. To remember them and, instead of getting upset and angry at the world for what it took away from him, would want them to cherish the memories he has. To be glad for what the world gave to him.

A few tears slipped down the curves of his cheeks, but he didn’t mind. They weren’t out of frustration and sorrow. They were good tears. Relieved tears.

“Thanks, punk.”

Maybe birthdays shouldn’t be about holding onto the past and wishing you were back. Maybe they’re about letting go and celebrating everything you’ve accomplished, how you’ve grown. Maybe they’re about being grateful for the people you’ve met, the places you’ve been, and where you end up.

And James Buchanan Barnes was glad to be who he was. A son, a brother, a friend, a teammate, a comrade…a hero.

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY BUCKABOO #cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky #the winter soldier #mcu #marvel #happy birthday bucky barnes #💙🦾#🎂🎈🎉#bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes fanfic

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otp-holic · 3 years ago

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I read and thought and wrote about you (1.3K)

(AO3) Bucky is sure Steve, his mission, is telling the truth the moment he throws himself into the water after him and from that moment on he remembers everything. Everything.

For @stuckybingo Round three: SB045 N2- Soldier Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluffy Ending, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), there are no more movies after those so I ignore them,Bucky Barnes Feels, Nothing New Under The Sun Notes: An anon sent me an ask that just said "angst" and three hours later, this is here. I don't even know! it is rushed and nothing new under the sun, just some headcanons stitched into some kind of a ficlet… it’s been therapeutic to take the step to write and post it even if it’s nothing new, even if it’s rushed, just because I enjoyed sitting there smashing the keyboard. So thank you anon for that, too!. Sorry for the mistakes and for the angst, remember i posted utter flufinness yesterday?

Bucky is sure Steve, his mission, is telling the truth the moment he throws himself into the water after him, and from that moment on he remembers everything. Everything. Good, bad, and all the scale of greys in between.

(He remembers the feverish cold in the mountains when he fell. He remembers Steve kissing him for the first time in a dark alley on their way back from seeing “It happened one night”. He remembers knives and blood and dying bodies under his hands. He remembers his mother’s loving fingers over his scraped knees.)

He doesn’t sleep for two nights after the river.

On the third day, he ventures into the Smithsonian to make sure his mind is not playing tricks on him and hoping against hope it’s all some weird mirage. That he is not Bucky Barnes, that he is not the Winter Soldier. That he is just a random man with a concussion who has somebody desperately looking for him (“Steve is looking for you, he will be looking for you until the end of the line. You know because you’ll do the same”, a voice he tries to silence insists on screaming inside his head.)

And he is sure he’s not that random man as soon as he lays an eye on the first picture of the exhibition, the same way he knows most of the printed texts have mistakes (“He,… I , was born in 1917,” he thinks. “Steve was the one from ‘18. And I would have never enlisted to go to that fucking war. They made me.”)

He glares at himself in pictures and the confirmation hurts. But it hurts even more to see Steve as he remembers him from before (from the schoolyard, the hood fights, the movie nights, the hidden kisses, the slow dancing inside their home, the cold winters they fought by sharing their body heat), and from after (from a cold cell in Austria, a desperate fuck in the forest, a laughing fit in the middle of a mission, a disappearing face as he fell backwards). It hurts more because he feels the pull of his muscle memory aching to go find him.

Every part of Bucky wants to go to Steve and tell him that he is back and that he remembers; to ask for his help to figure out what to do with the memories.

He doesn’t.

The nightmares, the fear of losing his will, of hurting more people (haven’t you done that enough?), the guilt,.. It all weighs too much. He waits until he is sure Steve is out of the hospital (he watches from the other side of the street), and he disappears with the only company of an empty backpack where he carefully places the Smithsonian’s brochure that has Captain America’s (Steve’s) face on it.

He hops countries for a year and he doesn’t exchange a single word with anybody for six months. His backpack gets heavier and heavier with little notebooks where he vomits all the words that he won’t say out loud, unconsciously leaving random little spaces where he feels like a drawing or sketch would complete the page. They are good memories, those little flashes between nightmares where he can see the man he was and not the ruthless asset they forced him to be.

Fourteen months after he left DC, he finds himself in Bucharest. Fourteen months and too many cargo planes and trains and cars. He is tired (never sleeps too much, because that’s where the horrible dreams find him) and the backpack keeps getting heavier and heavier.

He doesn’t plan to stay, but somehow he does: He gets a job as a night guard where he only sees the other outcasts who work previous and next shift from him, and he rents an apartment that he pays through three other guys.

The few people who talk to him call him Stefan. He was Esteban in Mexico, Istefanos in Turkey and Stefano for two days in Italy. It wasn't deliberate the first time, but he found comfort in being called by his name, in hearing it out loud, and in being allowed to play with the name on his lips from time to time.

He uses his extensive training (as a soldier and as someone he won’t think about) to always keep an eye on the news, on any clues (for Hydra, of course, but also for Steve. He knows Steve has to be looking for him, he’s not fooling himself) but there are none, radio silence. That steady silence is the reason why his notebooks move from the backpack to the apartment, why he starts exchanging a few words with the shopkeepers when he buys his food, why he goes to a shop where they sell books by the weight and why he starts reading again.

He loses himself in fiction, and the flashing moments of peace he gets from it take him by surprise and become another link to the Bucky he once was.

It’s been two years and fifty eight days since he took Steve out of the water and himself out of Hydra’s hands when he sees Steve again: his back to him and one of his notebooks between his hands. He takes a few seconds that he probably doesn’t have just to look at Steve standing there.

He’s dressed like a soldier (a Captain), but when he turns around at the feeling of Bucky’s presence, he looks just like Steve. Neither of them are breathing as much as they need, too overwhelmed with feelings, but working hard on keeping their minds fresh for drawing a strategy.

It’s been more than seventy one years since Bucky last said “Steve” to the right person and with the right intent when he lets it out into the world again, and when he does it feels so raw that he has to remind himself of why he is hiding (not safe for Steve, he is not worth risking it all, guilt) in order to back out a little, trying to gain some emotional distance hoping he can fool Steve.

(“I read about you in a museum.”)

Of course he doesn’t fool him, how could he?

The men start coming in through the windows, and he lets his instincts guide his movements until he’s jumping off the building and trying to run free.

He doesn’t stop to think how he synced his moments with Steve’s in half a second and without talking. He doesn’t stop to think how electric everything felt when he touched Steve’s shoulder.

And he doesn’t stop to think about how his ears keep buzzing minutes after Steve called him “Buck”, how he had made it sound so intimate that a lazy October afternoon in Brooklyn from a lifetime ago appeared before his eyes (entangled legs, young hearts, careless laughs, moaned “Buck ”.)

He tries to run from it all (protect, protect, protect ) but they catch them.

——

It’s seventy three years since he fell, four years since he took Steve out of the Potomac, a year since he went out of cryo and six hours since his mind was fully his again when Steve (bearded, sweaty, sex-haired, naked, and plastered to his side inside their warm hut in Wakanda) breaks their momentary silence.

“I have a present for you, Buck,” he says, extending his arm over Bucky while trying to reach something.

“I don’t think I have energy for another present right now.”

Bucky’s joke is way too evident but it makes them chuckle. Steve kisses him on the lips as an answer and leaves a heavy tote bag over Bucky’s naked stomach.

“Nat collected some favours and we located most of your notebooks in a vault a few months ago; she recently retrieved them and sent them here. I figured that since you finally own your mind now, it was time for you to own your memories, too.”

He’s told Steve about the notebooks a thousand times since he woke up, about how writing down the happy moments that popped into his brain helped him find himself beyond the horrors. About how he stayed awake writing them to keep the nightmares at bay.

Bucky takes Steve’s hand with his right one and places them (joined) over his heart, then he opens one of the little books with his new vibranium one and smiles.

“They are yours, too,” he says before he starts reading out loud.

#stucky #fanfic #fanfiction forever #fanfiction #angst with a happy ending #bucky barnes #steve rogers #post the winter soldier #post civil war #painfully created by me #fic by yours truly #captain america #stuckybingo2021 #long post

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago

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Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 11- Fond Memories

Summary: It’s just a memory, but it’s a good one.

Warning: fluff, smut ur welcome

Masterlist

June 21, 2016 - Bucharest, Romania

Wandering down the crowded streets of Bucharest, your eyes casually survey the surrounding area until they land on a little news cart holding the latest universal gossip that may spark a possible interest in the random civilian, among other things.

It’s hot out on this fine summers day, so all you carry on your person is your usual travel boots, black jeans, and a tank top to show off those guns of yours that Bucky loves so much. In your right hand is a plastic grocery bag hung loosely in your fingers, filled with two oranges and a cold lemonade, Bucky’s request. Though it’s slowly losing its chill from the afternoon heat.

As of recently you’ve become the designated grocery store adventurer since it’s the middle of summer and Bucky’s usual attire is to wear pants and a long sleeved shirt with gloves because of well, his arm. And since he doesn’t want to feel too out of place, also considering he’s incredibly cautious about where he shows off his metal appendage. You handle business on the streets, which today happens to be getting some fruit and a cold beverage back home to your man.

Though you’re admittedly a bit distracted by the local newspapers seated comfortably on their propped up stand. Soon you’re at the young teens cart, eyeing up the paper with curious eyes, “Hello miss.” Greets the boy in Romanian as you give a nod in acknowledgment, “That was sure something that happened in Sokovia huh, people still talking about it even now...glad I don’t live there. But uh, I guess the Avengers saved the day, well, most of it I think.”

“No doubt they probably helped cause it.” You add bitterly, eyes scanning over the heroic faces of Ironman and Captain America as they stand with great pose and purpose on the front magazine. Heroes? What a bunch of bullshit and flashy images underlying the darker truth to these people. These so called saviors.

If they truly cared, if real heroes actually gave a shit besides attempting to clean up their own messes, Hydra would be completely eradicated from the face of the earth and trafficking rings wouldn’t exist. But here we are.

“Uh, you wanna buy a paper?” Asks the young boy, smiling a shy yet hopeful grin.

I’d rather get stabbed, you think.

“No thanks, just here to look.” You add bluntly before turning on your heel and walking away, sauntering down the street as more people pass by you on your way to the apartment complex just over the next block. In no time have you reached the building, heading up the long flight of stairs before at long last do you stop at the front door.

Your relationship with Bucky is still relatively new, so you don’t want to startle him by just bursting in, so instead do you knock a couple times to gather is attention. Hopefully he’s not snoozing again. Taking a step back, you can hear shuffling from the other side before he reaches the door. You smile, knowing he can see you through the peep hole, “I got lemonade.” You add, holding up the bag as he unlocks the door, opening it up a crack before cautiously glancing to either side of you.

Realizing the coast is most certainly clear, Bucky opens the door fully to reveal nothing more then some grey sweatpants and a loose sleeveless black t-shirt hung perfectly against his body, amplifying his beefy muscles that not only could crush a man but can most definitely get you feeling all sorts of ways when used appropriately.

“Yes, get in here Y/N.” Urges Bucky with a humored smile and a small wave as you quickly wander in past him before setting your bag on the far counter near the sink.

Taking the decently cool beverage out, you turn around to face Bucky, who’s standing semi-awkwardly out in the open. A small dust of pink covers his stubbled cheeks as you take him all in. It’s not like you haven’t seen him bare ass naked before, it’s just, he feels comfortable enough to let his guard down with you and that's somethings he’s never truly ever felt before. He gets a little shy sometimes, so what?

“They finally had it. So I snatched this beautiful bitch the second my eyes landed on her. Hope it soothes all your troubles away and sends you on a spiritual journey through the meadows of....uh, wherever this place is from.” You mutter, trying to figure out how to pronounce the name of the company as he walks over to you; giving up on that curiosity, you decide to hand Bucky the drink instead, “Yeah, whatever I hope it tastes good.”

He gratefully accepts, “Thanks Y/N, you’re the best. Seriously.” Praises Bucky as he twists the lid off and takes a drink, face appearing to rather enjoy it as he proceeds to down the whole 8oz sugary bittersweet contents right before your vary eyes.

Well, he certainly wasn’t lying.

He finally pulls the bottle from his wet lips, taking a deep breath as you raise a brow at him, “I’m gonna take that as you finding nothing wrong with it whatsoever.” Licking the sweet wetness from his pink lips, Bucky chuckles before shrugging.

“I haven’t had lemonade since the 40’s so even if it was actually kinda bitter, I don’t think I would have noticed.”

“Damn. That long?” You question as he nods, “Fuck those assholes,” You growl, taking a step closer to Bucky so that he can pull you into his arms as you raise your head to greet him, “now they can never keep you from such rare pleasures ever again.”

Bucky reveals a beautiful white toothed smile, thick arms holding you close as he presses his forehead to yours, “And what would you do if they did?”

Running your hands up and down his muscular back, you gently place a sweet kiss against his plush lips, “I’d fucking gut every single one of them until you’re safe with me, drinking all the lemonade you could ask for.” He chuckles lightly before pressing his lips against yours once again, the taste of sugary lemonade reaching your tongue as he lets you explore his mouth a bit, Bucky doing the same with you.

Hands feeling your enticing vessel up as he takes in everything about you that he could possibly get from this positioning with you wrapped up in his arms, you fully enjoy this wonderful moment with your sweet man. Somedays he gets all cold and withdrawn, nightmares seeping into his scarred mind that pull forth dark memories back out into the open.

He’ll wake up next to you in a cold sweat, breathing heavily as he quickly scans the small apartment for any signs of possible danger threatening himself or even your own life. Then for the rest of the day he’ll stay considerably more quiet then usual, agitated with himself and the general world, though he’s never short with you when he gets like this. You hate to see him when he’s like that, frustrated, distant, and in a low pit of despair from everything Hydra put him through.

But he never once has lashed out at you when he’s having a rough day, he’s well aware how Hydra has toyed with your head and pulled the strings time and time again before you broke from their inky black tentacles. He knows you understand how he feels, and he knows how your mental and physical resilience has aided in your self healing from the trauma they’ve given you.

Although for Bucky, he’s still marked from deep within, everything they’ve ever burned into his brain is still there. Just below the surface. All the memories, all the commands, all the deaths, everything they imprinted on him still clings to him like an unrelenting demon.

But the days when he’s more soft and clingy appear to claim Bucky the most, and those days are your absolute favorite. Sure his handsome face still reveals a bit of that usual Bucky darkness that gives his eyes a tinge of roughed beauty, something that admittedly draws you in even further.

He’ll choose to speak with you on his own accord, tease you if he’s in the mood, and hold a part of your body that intrigues him the most for that length of time. He gravitates in your direction when he’s having a good day, seeking out your attention in any way conceivable and making it an absolute necessary goal of his to give you as much loving as he possibly can try in a single hour.

You love days like this, you love feeling wanted and appreciated for your very existence when so many would rather see you dead. You love having those big beautiful blues studying every single curve, muscle, and blemish on your skin like a student to their books. He practically drinks you in, making it his mission to hold you close and speak sweet nothings that will be remembered for a hundred years more.

So when you have to leave for supplies or pay the rent, Bucky feels like a lonely and lost old house cat with nothing to do all day except wait as patiently as he can until you arrive home safe and sound. He obviously doesn’t slip this to you about how he feels when you must vacate the premise and venture out into the unknown for however long it takes.

But you know, if it wasn’t already evident on his face when you greet him after such travels. The way his face lights up in excitement and relief once he finally sees you, the telltale crinkle in the corner of his eyes, and the way that his lips pull into a positive grin that could make you swoon in an instant.

You could absolutely just about die happy, you’ve never been more catered to and loved on in your entire life since you’ve started living with Bucky in Romania, well, since your once fragile relationship took a turn for the best. Resulting in whatever beautiful thing you two have going on now, though neither of you have outwardly labeled your growing relationship.

It’s more so an unspoken thing that’s adherently mutual, the both of you clearly understanding this isn’t some friends with benefits type shit. Oh no, definitely far from that. So what you have with Bucky right now is something so deeply special and bound by so much more then physical love and personal feelings.

You two have lived a past like no other, survived like beasts of war for masters who threw the command and controlled the reigns. Fought together, bled together, and kept imprisoned by Hydra together. Your pasts are blooded and heavy, but it’s only worked to make your relationship stronger. And perhaps that’s the only positive of what those fuckers did to you, without them, you’d never have met the Winter Soldier.

Without them, you’d never have lived this long to find Bucky Barnes, never have been given the opportunity to see him for all that he’s worth. And to you, he’s worth more then all the stars in the sky.

Your lover kisses your lips once more as you smile into the soft embrace, causing him to laugh as you pull away, “What’s so funny?” Wonders Bucky, revealing his own beautiful smile that could light up the darkest room.

Raising your hands to gently touch the sides of his stubbled cheeks, you give him a small peck, “You taste like lemons.” You muse.

“Oh, is that good then?” He asks, brow raised as you give him another quick kiss in reply before he smiles a lovestruck grin back down at you, “I think I’ll take that as a yes.”

You smile brightly before tugging on a lock of his dark shoulder length hair, “You plan on turning into the wolfman soon? It’s touching your shoulders now.”

Bucky side eyes your fingers laced through his admittedly long hair, “I guess......maybe it needs a little cut.” He begrudgingly admits, “But only a little cut, okay. Not a lot.” Worries your sweet man as you let go of his dark mane to pull away from his muscular vessel.

Hands outward and forming the shape of a square as you size him up for a photographic image sent directly into your brain, “Yeah. I can work with this, you got the looks. The face, very nice. Body, oh dear lord is it fine. Mhmm hmm, and that hair? Absolutely glorious, a lot of volume, shiny, good bounce to it....oh yeah I can work with this...”

“Are you done?” Chuckles Bucky as you drop your hands to your thighs.

“What? I was just pretending to be your photographer, was I not convincing enough?”

“Well..”

You take a step forward, gently touching the bottom of his chin before making a cheeky face and turning to wander towards the bathroom, Bucky slowly following your lead in curiosity as you explain, “I’ll have you know Barnes, I once convinced some high end Bulgarian official that I was actually a Russian princess in hiding. He believed it too.” You mutter while rummaging through the drawers under the bathroom sink. Bucky leaning against the doorway as he watches you intently.

“Honestly, it was rather pathetic too. Old fucker was so drunk I could have told him I was a pixie from the realm of toxic waste baskets and he would have believed me.” You add, searching for wherever the fucking scissors went, “Of course his idiot companions were none the wiser and I got the intel I needed out of him. How you ask?” Grabbing the silver coated utensil from out of the drawer, you rise to your full height.

Cutting the air, you throw him a wink as you move to wander past him, “That information is top secret. But let’s just say he never made it back to his friends.” You smirk, setting the scissors on the small center table before snatching the tiny plastic trash can and taking it with you over to the table once again.

Bucky watches as you pull the two chairs to face opposite of one another, placing the trash can in the center of the two wooden seats as you bring your bum down on to the flat chair. “Now sit. This may get messy.”

Bucky snorts, moving to do just that, “I don’t wanna see any blood, Y/N. I know how you are with sharp objects.” Jokes your man with a telling smirk as you simply roll your eyes before pulling your right leg up, leaning it against your left thigh as you begin unlacing your boots. “Whatcha doing there Y/N?”

Tugging on the sides of your boots to loosen them up, you throw him a side glance, “Getting comfortable.”

Bucky nods, “Of course. This is serious business.”

You chuckle, pulling off your boot and throwing it to the side before exchanging your one leg for the other, “Gives you more time to check me out.”

Biting his bottom lip, Bucky leans his metal elbow against the table as he shamelessly watches you do your thing, “Well, no.....I wasn’t doing that, definitely not....but uh, I like your socks. Very interesting choice.” Points Bucky while you toss your other boot to the floor with a small thud. Shaking your head while Bucky makes fun of your current socks that reach above your ankles, a multitude of cartoon rainbow kittens dancing all about with a solid grey background. One tiny worn down hole showing some skin on the back of your heel that would most likely have blistered by now if not for your healing capabilities.

“Huh? Oh, these fuckers?” You snicker, sticking one foot close to his face as he leans back to avoid your teasing, “Fought them off a homeless guy in the park.”

Bucky makes a humored expression ranging between slight disgust and great amusement at your theatrical antics, reaching his flesh hand out to catch your ankle before you can smack him with your extremity. “I’m sure you kicked his ass.”

Setting your foot down, you nod, “Oh I did, you should have seen it, I’m sure you could have learned a thing or two.”

“Okay.” Mutters Bucky sarcastically whilst rolling his eyes, “At least I’m not the one in the care-bear socks.”

You raise a brow at him, legitimately impressed by this reference, “I’m surprised you even know what that is.” You tease before sticking your one foot out and pointing both hands in its general direction, “These. Are cat socks for your information....but no one ever said pretty people were smart so I won’t hold it against you.”

“Ouch.” Laughs Bucky, “Take a look in the mirror hot stuff.”

Smacking his metal arm, you pick up the scissors, “Okay smartass now I’m going to give you a weird haircut for that one.”

“I said you were hot.” Protests Bucky with a laugh as you slice the scissors in the air menacingly, “Forgive me.”

“You implied I was lacking in smarts so now you’re getting a shitty haircut you dumbfuck, come here you coward!” Bucky leans backwards towards the table as you press your freehand on his chest, your other hand held upwards by Bucky’s metal fist as you practically lean your whole body against his. Scissors snapping in the air as he attempts to restrain you.

“Y/N! I’m sorry please don’t cut my hair weird I’ll never leave the apartment again.” He pleads through amused giggles as you playfully let him keep you from doing any sort of damage to his beautiful dark locks.

“You don’t leave the apartment to begin with!”

“That’s true but still!”

“Let me go and I will be nice about it.” You reason, “I promise.” Bucky gives you a half nervous glance before letting go of your wrist, smiling down at him, you slide off his body before seating yourself back down again. “See, not so hard. Now take your shirt off and turn around.”

Bucky’s brows raise instantly while he breaks out into a suggestive grin, “Y/N, that’s kinky.”

Rolling your eyes, you bite your bottom lip to keep from giving him the satisfaction of a genuine smile, “Do it or I’ll hurt you, and not how you like it.” Bucky snorts as you break out into a smile, “Come on muscles I wanna see some skin.”

“Is this really necessary?” Wonders Bucky as he grasps the bottom of his shirt.

“Yes.” You reply, watching as he removes his tank top with ease before setting it atop the cold surface of the table, “It’s so you don’t get hair all over your shirt Barnes, and don’t say it’s not a big deal cause I know you’ll get itchy.”

“Whatever. Just don’t cut me.” Grumbles Bucky as he shifts around in his chair so that you have a clear view of the back of his head and all that glorious hair just screaming to be snipped to perfection. “Seriously be careful.”

Scooting your chair closer so that your legs are parted for a better angle, you semi-roughly tug down on his dark locks causing the super soldier to grunt in pain, “Y/N!” Grumbles Bucky through clenched teeth, “What the hell?” He whines as you chuckle mischievously from behind him.

“Oh shut it you big baby, I know what I’m doing.” Bucky’s mouth opens to protest, but before he’s able to throw something witty at you to counter your sass, you’ve made a loud snip snip sound with the scissors.

“Careful.” Worries Bucky as you hold a chunk of his hair before letting the utensil slice right through the brown follicles like a knife through some soft chocolate cake. Soon more and more tuffs of discarded hair fall into the wastebasket as you work around the back of his head. He doesn’t say a word the whole time as you skillfully cut your way to a half-descent haircut.

After a good five minutes, you lean back to examine your work, “Okay, looking good.”

“Can I see.”

“No.” You deadpan with a small chuckle before pressing the handle of the scissors to his bare back, “Turn around wolfman I need to do the front.”

Sighing, Bucky shifts, turning around to finally face you. Both your legs staggered side by side now as he looks into your eyes like a beaten down puppy, “Oh don’t look at me like that Barnes. Your torture session is almost over.” You add before kissing your fingers and pressing them against his lips for a brief second of silent affection.

Bucky cracks a handsome grin while your left hand messes up his long bangs, “Must you do that too.” Complains your grumbly lover in annoyance as you slice some areas near his face. “Yep. I’m not cutting all of it, I’m just giving your eyes some trim to see. Bucky you’ve been putting your hair up in buns for a week now.”

“Okay fine.”

“I mean, I like it. But you need a cut, I miss seeing your pretty face.” Bucky closes his eyes as you make quick work of his hair, deciding it best to just keep his thoughts to himself and let you do your masterful work, hopefully resulting in a decent job well done.

Soon he hears one last snip before you dramatically gasp causing his eyes to shoot open, “What did you do!?” Worries Bucky as you start smiling like an idiot.

“Oh my...ha, you look so good!” You affirm with an excited squeak of joy, setting the scissors down on the table before reaching your hands out to dive your fingers through his soft mane like an excited child petting a furry cat for the first time.

Bucky’s hands wrap around your forearms as he smiles, “Okay, okay, Y/N...” Starts Bucky as you take your hands and gently push his hair back to see his handsome face.

“Why, hello there Mr. Barnes.” You slyly jest as he studies your smirking face, “Don’t you just look absolutely dashing.”

“Am I free to look now?” Implores your lover with a shy smile as he rests his hands to either one of your thighs, squeezing lightly while you nod. “Go for it.”

He lets go, getting up from the chair to saunter on into the bathroom to observe your skilled work as a terribly underpaid hairdresser. In the meantime, you’ve cleaned off the few stray hairs coating the table and dumped them in the small trash can. Setting the chairs back into their normal positioning as you place the trash back in it’s usual spot by the window.

A mischievous grin coating your features as you stand causally by the fridge, awaiting Bucky who soon walks out of the bathroom. Smile on his beautiful features before his face falls into a confused yet oddly amused expression. “Y/N what are you doing? You look like Hitler.”

“What? No I don’t!” You protest, removing Bucky’s discarded lock of hair from your upper lip and tossing it in the trash, “Well you look.....uh, you look like uh.....I don’t know. You look really hot, I’m kind of distracted not gonna lie.”

Bucky smiles, cheeks dusting a light pink color as he walks closer to you. Noticeably still lacking an actual shirt which is doing wonders to your swirling thoughts that are turning a bit dirty, and those grey sweatpants? Hanging dangerously low on his beautiful body, you can see his famous V line in your peripheral vision as you strain to keep your eyes locked with his.

Oh he is challenging you big time.

Bucky, too observant for his own good, takes the hint that you’re starting to get a little hot and bothered with him looking like that all shirtless in the room and whatnot. Fresh haircut, low pants, and nothing better to do on this fine summer evening.

He raises an intrigued brow, “I know that look.” Muses Bucky with a knowing devilish grin as you shake your head at him, eyes darting to the newspaper covered window. You hate getting caught.

“Nope. What would make you think I’m thinking of...of, whatever you’re thinking. Alright listen, my mind is all pure and good up in here...so I, I have no idea whatever the fuck you’re talking about.” Bucky chuckles, chest rising in little spurts as he humors you, taking a couple more steps closer as you bite your lip in anticipation. Shit, he’s got you right where he wants you.

Ever so gently does five metal fingers reach up to caress the side of your cheek, trailing sweet icy lines down to your chin as his bare chest presses sweetly against your clothed breasts. Flesh hand holding your lower back, pressing you into him, “Y/N.” Whispers Bucky, sounding more like a genuine question as he tilts his head to the side, “What’r you thinking of?”

Pursing your lips together to keep from revealing a full grin to give him that proud satisfaction of turning you on without much effort, you raise a brow, free hand reaching downwards to gently palm him through his sweats that are indeed beginning to tent.

“Hmm. Guess I got you too, and all I did was stand here.” You proudly conclude, slipping a hand into his pants as you trail your fingers up and down his hardening length, causing Bucky to groan in arousal at your playful teasing. “Fuck me I could listen to that voice for a thousand years and never get tired of hearing you moan Buck.”

Bucky grabs your hand currently exploring his neither regions, pulling it out as he takes both your hands with his, face leaning in real close to yours, “I was not moaning.” He confirms with a sly grin, “This...is a moan.” And a second later he’s pressing his flesh digits into your clothed heat, rubbing your growing arousal with the pads of his skilled fingers as your face shifts with pleasure.

“oh.” Softly escapes from your parted lips, the sound coming out as more of a breathy gasp of air then anything really comprehensible.

Soon a large grin has found its way onto your flushed features, “You bastard.” Bucky chuckles at your less then heated curse given freely to him before removing his fingers from their pleasurable assault on your sensitive area that’s calling for some real attention, you kiss him again before muttering, “Come on Barnes....”

His lips dance in time with yours as he keeps you from speaking anything otherwise witty back at him, flesh and metal hand trailing up your body until they find the lower rim of your tank top. He pulls the material upwards, breaking the kiss for but a swift moment to let the fabric completely slide right off of your body and onto the floor below.

Lips on yours in an instant as his nimble fingers skillfully unclasp your bra, you’d have praised him for the semi-troublesome work if not for the fact that he’s now using those talented hands of his to knead your naked breasts like the most valuable and sweetest dough in all the land. Touching them with the tenderness of a skilled lover who knows just how to get his lady feeling all sorts of good.

Trailing your digits up and down his bare back, you shift your face to the side so he can keep stealing away more kisses while you try and form a sentence, “Buck...mhmm....mmmm.....Bucky, I need you, mhmm, I need you in me...right, right now.” You mutter in between moans while Bucky’s hardness rubs through his sweatpants and onto your thighs.

His hands trail up to gather the sides of your face in his palms, lips finally parting from yours as his beautiful blues gaze lovingly into your blissful expression, “I think that’s a fantastic idea Y/N. Now if you could lay on this table so I can take your pants off that’d be great.” Softly adds Bucky as you quickly steal a kiss in reply before scooting yourself upon the wooden table.

Leaning your body back as he quickly removes the clothing from your lower half, underwear sliding off next to leave you in nothing but your wit and will, and naked everything. His lust filled eyes trail hungrily down from your protruding breasts to your soaked neither regions hot and ready for his willing member.

“Enough drooling over me Barnes, I wanna see what you’ve got.” He chuckles at getting so easily caught; listening to your inquisition, he swiftly removes those annoying grey sweatpants before slipping off the tight boxers with ease.

Your eyes widen in excitement at the hardened length dripping in precum, his king jewels swollen and ready to send you into a world of wonders soon enough.

Bucky, noticing how your eyes swirl with hunger, takes a step forward, placing his hand on your knee, “This angles kinda weird so...can you turn around?” Asks the super soldier apprehensively, you two have never done it this way before. It’s pretty tame all things considered, but it’s something you’re more than willing to try.

You nod with a mischievous grin, “That’s a little kinky.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, snorting with laughter nonetheless, “Why are you..never mind.” Muses your lover while you swiftly scoot your naked bum off of the table before kissing his cheek and turning around. Laying your stomach against the warmed surface of the wood as you bend over for Bucky to begin his godly work.

Soon his hands are feeling up your beautiful bum before wandering to your sides, “This good? Are you comfortable like this, just tell me if we need the bed instead and I can..”

“Bucky just fuck me.” You quickly interrupt, pushing your ass against his member that’s quite literally poking provocatively at your naked cheeks. “Yeah, okay, right on that.” Replies your man as he holds your left hip in place, flesh hand steadying his cock as he approaches your slick folds.

You can’t see him from this angle, relying on sounds and feel alone; you’re soon pleasantly relieved of the lack of contact when his manhood finally touches the surface of your two mounds before Bucky pushes himself into you.

Spreading you wide open and bare unto him as his length slides completely into your dripping core that’s heated and buzzing with your arousal. He feels good, really good. The slight discomfort gone in an instant as you quickly adjust perfectly in tune with his fullness and girth that stretches your walls so beautifully.

Bucky lets out a pleasant sigh before gently squeezing your hips, “Y/N are you good?” Wonders your sweet man, balls deep inside you but still making it important that you’re feeling as fantastic as him. How considerate.

With one hand gripping the far edge of the table and the other one thrown back to smack affectionately against his hip, you nod while face is pressed against the flat wood, “So good Buck....so good.” You mutter happily.

Taking this as a positive sign, Bucky smiles joyously before pulling a good ways out of you and thrusting himself back in again. Replicating this wondrous action for a good thirty more seconds as he draws your vessel into a new plane of pleasure with each fantastical stroke.

You’re left with soft moans reaching Bucky’s ears while the poor table attempts to keep in its place as Bucky thrusts full force into you over and over again, the legs of wood scraping against the flooring with each pump into your core. Grunting with effort not gone unnoticed by you in the slightest.

Nothing in the small apartment is heard except for the familiar skin on skin contact associated with this or any type of lovemaking, though right now, this angle, and those beautiful groans dripping off of his tongue sets this scene as more of a good fucking between the two of you if you’re being completely honest here.

Bucky’s cock pulses and twitches in excitement as he pulls in and out of you, hands tightly gripping the sides of your hips enough to bruise when all is said and done, luckily for you, quick healing is one of your attributes. Paying no mind the dull ache of his fingers against your flesh, you grip the edge of the table as the titular coil of growing pleasure begins its usual act upon your womanhood.

Bucky’s relentless, pushing himself into you just right with that delicious cock of his, sliding in and out of your slick walls as he works his magic. “oh God Buck...” You moan in absolute bliss, brows raising upwards at the growing sensation building up into your persistent climax.

He smiles to himself, proud of his fruitful efforts to turn you into a moaning mess underneath him, soon he’s picking up the pace with vigor and palpable stamina that you’re all to willing to match. “Buck....oh fu...fuck, I’m so-I’m so close....mhmm..” He slams into you harder now, causing the table to slide across the floor as he continues his pleasurable assault on your core that’s bringing you quickly to the edge of paradise.

“Ah shit.” Mumbles Bucky, realizing this current positioning is messing up his groove since this damn table keeps annoyingly moving in time with his thrusts. A second later his metal arm his lifting your stomach upwards, body to much of a mess to protest, you’re soon pleasantly surprised when your naked back falls flush against his sweaty toned torso as he holds you close.

His metallic hand slides up to hold you in between your breasts as his flesh hand trails down your body until it finds your sensitive bud, Bucky’s skilled fingers rub deliciously against the swollen flesh as he thrusts up into you vigorously. You suppress a whiny moan as your one hand grips tightly onto his forearm holding you to his body. While your other hand reaches up to take a fistful of hair as his head drapes over the side of your shoulder, plush lips planting wet kisses all along your heated skin.

“Mhmm you taste so good.” Praises Bucky as he licks your naked flesh before gently biting down playfully, leaving more love marks as he continues to play with your clit as the coil inside you threatens to unwind.

“Buck, I-I can’t...I’m gonna...” Bucky listens as you begin mumbling incoherent Russian when your orgasm finally hits you full force now, your warm walls tightening around his cock as you emit a plethora of loud moans. Tugging on his hair as he smiles against your skin for the work he’s done.

Your fingers quickly slip from his thick dark locks as you fight to keep your legs from giving out at the intense rush of pleasure flowing through your vessel as Bucky’s fingers spell circles on your sensitive bud. You’re soon getting overstimulated when suddenly he pulls his hand to wrap around your stomach as he finally cums inside you.

The beautiful sounds of Bucky’s low groans and moans filling your ears as he spills himself up into you, cock twitching as he releases it all. The feeling of his cum rushing into your hot center never fails to turn you weak, especially when his body shakes with pleasure as he subconsciously holds you closer while riding out his orgasm.

He thrusts into you a couple more times just to feel it through as he unknowingly sparks more electricity into your already fucked out core that’s now dripping with not only your natural arousal but his hot liquid. Bucky’s head falls into the crook of your neck as he stops pumping into you, plush lips kissing your heated skin as he just embraces the moment of standing butt-ass naked in the kitchen balls deep in you, his loving and beautifully fuckable girlfriend.

He stands like this for about forty whole seconds until you reach a hand up to tug playfully on his hair, “I think we need a shower now.”

Bucky’s lips smile against your skin as he picks his head up, kissing your neck while he pulls himself out of you. His cum slowly trailing down your inner thighs as he turns you around to face him, “I think you’re right. Let’s go before that gets on the floor.” Chuckles Bucky as he takes your hand and walks you into the bathroom.

You stand by the sink as he turns on the shower, fumbling with the settings while you snatch a tissue and begin cleaning yourself up a bit until he turns around, “Wait Y/N, let me do that.” States Bucky as he takes the tissue out of your hand, kneeling down to get a better angle, “It’s kinda my fault anyways and you’ve done enough...”

“I could handle it Buck, but I mean yeah, go for it.” You muse as he whips off the milky liquid trailing lines down your inner thighs, “I don’t doubt you know how to clean a crime scene.”

“This isn’t a crime scene.” Asserts Bucky as he whips away the last of it while you chuckle at his confused facial expression.

He stands as you saunter past him, taking a step into the shower before looking over your shoulder, “Well, guess you’re just gonna have to murder this pussy again and we’ll find out how well your clean up really is.” You tease with a knowing wink before disappearing into the plastic curtains.

Bucky’s brows raise in surprised excitement as he quickly follows you in, soon his hands are feeling you up in all sorts of places. Drawing soft moans of the sweetest sounds into the sexually charged atmosphere, no doubt riling you up for round two. God you love him so fucking much.

Waking with a start, you’re surprised to find your heartbeat racing a mile a minute. Then the wonderful memories of last nights dream hits you like a truck, that wasn’t just a dream, that was a real memory with Bucky. One of the many fantastic ones between the two of you before Zemo happened, before Tony tried to kill him, before Wakanda, and before Thanos ruined it all with a simple snap of his goddamn fingers.

Just a fucking dream. Another good memory. That’s it.

Tagged: @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94 @iamasimpingh0e @mjaudrey @thescarlettvvitch

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x you #marvel #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #bucky fic #bucky smut #james buchanan barnes

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horrorslashergirl · 4 years ago

Text

Slasher OC: Decebal Avram Chirilă

Full Name: Decebal Avram Chirilă

Nickname(s): Dacia, Dece, The Impaler, Vladislav, Tiger, Lynx, Dracula, Casanova

Age: 38

Gender: Male

Nationality: Romanian

Place of Birth: Bucharest, Romania

Current Location: Travels from country to country

Occupation: Former Romanian Soldier; Now Hitman

Languages: Romanian, English, German, French, Italian, Hungarian, Russian, Turkish

Appearance:

Height: 6'8

Weight: 240lbs

Body Type: Middle Bulky and Atheltic

Skin Color: Warm Beige

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Hair Style: Short on the sides and longer on top, wavy

Eye Color: Pale Grey, almost white, giving the impression he is blind

Face Claim: Stephen James

Clothing: He opts for comfortable clothing mostly because of his job as a hitman and because he is always on the run. He mostly goes with black T-shirts or shirts, a khaki army coat with many pockets, along with camo army pants again with many pockets and black combat boots. He has a long black scarf with the colors of the Romanian flag trimmed along that belonged to his father.

Other features: He has many scars on his broad back and down his arms; his back's scars are covered by tattoos of an eagle and a grim reaper with two swords in an X shape. His has full sleeve tattoos down his arms, picturing all kind of nature scenarios from his country, mountains and wild animals and AK-47's on each forearm. His neck, chest and legs are also covered by tattoos along with his hands. This guy is all inked up. He also has a silver earing on his right ear. He also wears an eyepatch that is covering his scarred eye that he got from a fight with his brother Alexander, the scar mimiking the ones Alexander has, coming from his eyebrow down his eye and over his cheek.

Weapons: Twin Swords, Twin Guns, and throwing knives.

Power/Skills:

Murderous expertise

Brute strength

Skilled usage of weaponry

Skill in hand-to-hand combat

Knifesmanship

Swordsmanship

Multilingual

Cunning Nature

Charisma

Driving expertise

Ruthlessness

Fearlessness

Manipulation

Marksmanship

Master tactician and strategist

Stealth mastery

Symbols: Here is the link to Decebal's symbols

History/Bio:

Decebal was named after a Romanian king by his parents, father Apostol Chirilă, and his mother, Maria Stratulat of Moldovic heritage. They were a poor family that lived in Bucharest during the communist times, a hard period for them. Decebal's father, Apostol was one of the rebels that were against this form of a system of social organization in which all property is owned by the community and each person contributes and receives according to their ability and needs.

Because of this Apostol and Maria, along with their three years old son, Decebal, were dragged into the communistic jails where they were tortured in all kinds of ways from whipping to starvation to being chained into coldness.

Decebal tried to protect his parents even though he was a small child and the army warden that took care of the horrific jails was surprised by the child's braveness and he took him away from his parents, not before forcing him to watch how his parents were killed brutally.

During the rest of his childhood and teenage years, Decebal spent most of his life in the dark underground jail, training with the soldiers, doing hard work. Despite that, the warden thought Decebal about all kinds of languages, cultures, and history.

'Just because you're a stray dog that doesn't mean you cannot learn to bark and bite.'

In his late teenage years as he grew into an adult man, he got more to the light outside, following the warden wherever he went and did was his so-called 'father' figure did; smoke, drink and got laid with all the ladies.

The warden's words during a drunken late-night:

'You know boy, you will do something big, much bigger than you can imagine. I saw how all these sluts looked at you... You make them fall into your arms like they are desperate whores.'

'Use everything you got; charms, brains, muscles. In this world, there are the ones that walk every inch of the ground as they own it and the ones that follow, all chained. Tell me, boy... Which one you are?'

One of the greatest abilities that Decebal earned during years in the darkness was that he got so used to it that now as an adult, he sees perfectly into the darkness, just like cats do.

Some people called Decebal 'Lynx'; the moniker originates from the fact that Lynx has exceptional night vision, remarkable hearing, and incredible instincts. The spiritual lesson Lynx carries to you is a reminder to partake of quiet observance, remembering there’s more to the world than what’s accessible through the physical eyes and ears alone.

After communism fell down in Romania, Decebal still maintained the attitude he grew up around; being sadistic, cold, and cruel. People weren't too fond of his attitude; his habits including fighting and torturing people that opposed him, getting laid with other men's wives, strolling down the streets like he owned everything.

He disappeared from Romania when there was a reward on his head to be finally executed. The Romanian army was hot on his trail, turning against him, but he simply vanished.

He strolls from country to country, not having a definitive home and working as a rogue hitman to earn money and to survive.

After a brutal fight between him and his twin little brother, Alexander; the two brothers which resulted in both of them almost dead, they get on an agreement of peace between them, with the help of their third part, their little sister Nadia.

Family: His little brother Alexander Chirilă and his little sister Nadia Nikolina Chirilă

His favorite killing style:

He prefers a kill that will put on a good show, he will shot his victims in both their knees, then he will dismember them with his sharp twin swords.

Personality:

Decebal has two paths of personality; the civilian one and the hitman one, that sometimes cross path depending on the situation at hand. In hi day to day life, he is a charming, handsome man, confident and sure of himself, but also having a modesty edge, just to draw people in closer, because he loves the attention, having a God-like complex.

Despite his childhood, he is a very educated man that speaks many languages, sometimes taking people by surprise, he can even put on fake accents. He also has vast knowledge about other countries history, mostly because that's what his 'father-figure' talked a lot about.

He is a flirt, he simply adores to make women swon by his charming looks and mysterious persona wherever he goes, people always wondering from where he comes. He knows how to sweet-talk people, being extremly manipulative. His looks; big and strong, in his eyes a flaming white glow.

You will rarely see Decebal without his charming smile or dark smirk that makes the ladies sigh and faint. He always puts on a winning attitude, knowing for creating many divorces along his travelings.

Here goes his saying: 'If the female raised her tail, who I am to deny.'

He has a romantic side, after all he does speaks the romance languages, but it's highly influenced his his Casanova attitude.

He is blunt; this man will tell if you're damn gorgeous or if you're down-right ugly or stupid. He has no problem putting his opinions straight on the table.

His favorite drink: Țuică- is a traditional Romanian spirit that contains ~ 24–65% alcohol by volume (usually 40–55%), prepared only from plums.

His favorite food: Sarma is a dish of vine, cabbage, monk's rhubarb, kale or chard leaves rolled around a filling of grains, like bulgur or rice, minced meat, or both. It is found in the cuisines of the former Ottoman Empire from the Middle East to Southeastern Europe.

His scent: Decebal's scent could be described as a 'game of seduction' with an "exciting rush" of citrus and cool spice top notes. Pungent bergamot "bites" with freshness, revived by cardamom and lavender. Caviar gives a provocative and erotic touch “like a trickle of sweat on a man’s chiseled body.” Masculine and rough notes of tobacco and orris root facilitate the heat of the composition. He has that scent that could be described as smoky confidence irresistible to women.

Other Characteristics:

He is a very good dancer, especially traditional ones and he also knows singing. Attending important parties with his 'father-figure' he learned from the women how to dance and sing. The women basically made him such a charismatic man.

He is a heavy drinker and holds his alcohol like it's water; his moldovic genes showing off.

He is more of a night person that a day one, mostly because of his very good nocturnal sight.

He is pretty much an Outlaw.

His accent sounds like italian, latin, but with a little bit of russian or another slavic accent. (That's how a Austrian woman described his accent one night)

He is a master at Poker. Another way he earns a lot of money is through poker and plus, he is a master cheater. FUN FACT HERE: He won a man's wife through poker for one night.

He is a sword swallower, bonus he has no gag reflex.

He also loves to smoke from his pipe.

============================================

There lived a certain man in Romania long ago

He was big and strong, in his eyes a flaming glow

Most people look at him with terror and with fear

But to Bucharest chicks he was such a lovely dear

He could preach the Bible like a preacher

Full of ecstasy and fire

But he also was the kind of teacher

Women would desire

DE DE DECEBAL

Lover of the ROMANIAN queen

There was a cat that really was gone

DE DE DECEBAL

Romania's greatest love machine

It was a shame how he carried on

He ruled the Romanian land and never mind the Tsar

But the kazachok he danced really wunderbar

In all affairs of state he was the man to please

But he was real great when he had a girl to squeeze

For the queen he was no wheeler dealer

Though she'd heard the things he'd done

She believed he was a holy healer

Who would heal her son

DE DE DECEBAL

Lover of the Romanian queen

There was a cat that really was gone

DE DE DECEBAL

Romania's greatest love machine

It was a shame how he carried on

(This is an interpretation of the song ‘Rasputin’ by Boney M, mostly because the song inspired me into creating him)

For power became known to more and more people

The demands to do something about this outrageous

Man became louder and louder

"This man's just got to go!" declared his enemies

But the ladies begged "Don't you try to do it, please"

No doubt this Decebal had lots of hidden charms

Though he was a brute they just fell into his arms

Then one night some men of higher standing

Set a trap, they're not to blame

"Come to visit us" they kept demanding

And he really came

DE DE DECEBAL

Lover of the Romanian queen

They put some poison into his țuică

DE DE DECEBAL

Romania's greatest love machine

He drank it all and said "I feel fine"

DE DE DECEBAL

Lover of the Romanian queen

They didn't quit, they wanted his head

DE DE DECEBAL

Romania's greatest love machine

[Spoken:] Oh, those Romanians...

=======================================================

But when his drinking and lusting and his hunger

#Decebal Avram Chirila #Slasher OC #Romanian OC #Original characters #Hitman #Outlaw

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ignisentis · 4 years ago

Text

There’s A TV, Joe!

For Paperstorm, one of my very favorite people, on this, the day of her birth. Happy birthday, my dear!

Or read it on AO3.

“We are usually a better judge of character,” Nicky says, and Copley puts on his best blank face. He has a job to do, and he’s not going to let Nicky get under his skin.

“I suppose you are taking us to the person who paid for your betrayal,” Nicky continues, and okay. Copley will give him that one.

“This’s a nice plane,” Joe says as he’s pushed up the stairs. He sounds surprised and almost...excited? That can’t be right. Copley feels his lips start to turn downward, and right then Nicky calls out from inside the plane, “there’s a TV, Joe!”

“Champagne?” Joe responds, like he isn’t in leg chains and flex cuffs and doesn’t have armed guards ready to shoot him in the face. Though, Copley muses, that last part really wouldn’t bother him all that much.

Keane turns towards him with the same look of “who the fuck are these guys?” Copley’s sure is mirrored on his own face.

Copley makes his way into the plane behind Keane, greeted by an incredibly sarcastic “ah, there he is! The man of the hour!” from Joe.

“My heart,” Nicky says, pulling Joe’s attention back to him, “what do you want to watch? There are so many channels on this TV, I don’t know why anyone would need so many.” The man is frowning at the television like it’s also betrayed and captured him and is about to deliver him to scientific experimentation, and Copley finds himself mildly impressed by how nonchalant they’re acting about this whole thing.

“Oh, is the football still on?” Joe asks. “It was early in the first half when we were so rudely interrupted, I think there should be some time left in the second half.”

“Let me see,” Nicky responds, flipping rapidly through the stations.

“There!” Joe calls out, but Nicky doesn’t stop in time and there’s some baking show playing instead.

“Oh, look, the chef is making a lovely fruit tart. Let’s watch this instead.”

“Nickyyyyy,” Joe whines, honest to god whines. “The football!”

“Ach,” Nicky scoffs, flapping his cuffed hands in Joe’s direction. “You watch so many games, and there will always be another one.”

“Your fruit tarts are already better than anything this chef could make! You don’t need to watch this!”

“Of course I do! Perhaps there’s a new tip I could pick up.”

“Fruit tarts have been fruit tarts for centuries, they aren’t going to change that much in half an hour on a baking show!”

“One never knows unless one watches,” Nicky says imperiously, and Copley has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing at the groan Joe gives in response, clearly knowing he’s lost this well-worn argument yet again. It makes Copley think of his wife and how effectively she could finish all their fights, too.

“What if I sat with you? Would that make it better?” Nicky coos, making his way to the couch where Joe’s sitting across from the TV, and sits down on Joe’s lap, his back to Joe’s chest.

Joe grunts and lifts his arms up and over Nicky’s head, settling them around Nicky’s waist. Joe presses a kiss to Nicky’s neck with a grumbled “I suppose.”

Nicky snorts at him and twists around so he can kiss Joe on the mouth softly, once and then twice when Joe chases his lips. Copley looks over at Keane and the other guards, who look like they’ve been sucking on lemons, and yeah, it’s official. He’s starting to like these guys.

“Knock it off,” Keane growls at them, and Joe looks up like he’d forgotten the man was even there. Which...is entirely possible.

“Or what?” Joe goads. “You’ll kill us?”

Nicky gasps and puts his hands over his mouth in the most incredibly exaggerated manner Copley has ever seen. It draws a laugh out of him that he can’t quite cover with a cough. Keane glares at him before turning back to Joe and Nicky to glare at them instead. Joe laughs in response and presses a kiss to the side of Nicky’s neck.

“My love,” he says.

“Yes, my heart?” Nicky replies.

Copley looks over at Keane, who’s about five seconds from blowing a gasket, and wishes he had some popcorn. He should probably step in at some point, but he’s more curious to see what Joe and Nicky are going to do next.

Besides, he definitely likes these guys.

“Do you think they’ve figured it out yet?” Joe asks.

“Mmm, no,” Nicky hums. “They haven’t.”

“Perhaps we should help them along, then. How many ways do you know to crash a plane?” Joe asks, and wow, okay, that is so not where Copley thought this was going.

“Oh, tesoro, there are so many ways to crash a plane. It depends on how much time I have to plan and what materials I have to work with,” Nicky responds.

“How many can you think of off the top of your head, right now, with the restrictions of leg chains, zip cuffs, no weapons, four armed guards, one ex-CIA agent who’s been a very naughty boy, and a pilot?”

“What are my assets?”

“Only me,” Joe tells him, punctuating the information with another kiss.

“Ah, that is more than enough and the only thing I ever need.” Nicky kisses him again before straightening up to look Keane in the eye. “Under those parameters, and without more time to plan, I can think of seven ways to crash this plane.”

“Did you factor in Bucharest, ‘33?”

“Ah, I did not. Thank you for the reminder. Make that eight.”

Copley feels his heart start racing, he can hear his blood pulsing in his ears. He flicks his eyes to Keane, and the man has gone absolutely still. His face is whiter than Copley has ever seen it.

“And who, my dearest love, out of the passengers of this plane, would survive if we decided to rip it from the sky?” Joe asks, his voice dripping with fake concern.

“You and I are the only two who would walk away from such a tragedy, my heart.”

“That’s right!” Joe grins. “We are!”

Copley feels his stomach twist around itself as he holds his breath, waiting to see if they’ll actually do it.

“Of course, that would be a waste of a perfectly good plane,” Nicky continues after an entirely too long pause, and Copley exhales sharply, suddenly understanding the message they’re trying to send.

“These seats are so comfortable!” Joe agrees.

“And the wood trim is so finely worked. I would hate to see such craftsmanship go to waste,” Nicky adds.

“Think they’ve figured it out yet, Nicky?”

“Hmm,” Nicky hums back, looking around the fuselage before making eye contact with Copley. “He has.” Joe looks up expectantly, a twinkle in his dark eyes.

“You aren’t trapped in here with us,” Copley answers them. “We are trapped in here with you.”

“That’s right!” Joe beams at him as Nicky claps his hands to his chest like a proud father. Joe winks at him before pressing another kiss to Nicky’s neck. Nicky sighs happily and turns back toward the TV.

“Oh, Joe, look how thickly she sliced those pears!” He exclaims, scandalized. “They’ll never finish cooking before the crust starts to catch!”

“And why didn’t she use apricot jam as a glaze? Her tart is going to be so lifeless and dull!”

“Oh, no, this is going to be a disaster,” Nicky giggles, actually giggles, as he wiggles on Joe’s lap. Joe shifts his legs around and pulls Nicky in closer, gleefully awaiting the reveal of the disaster tart.

Copley chances a glance at Keane, whose face is all red and twisted up in anger. Joe and Nicky are probably going to pay for this later, but now? Right now?

There’s absolutely no doubt about it: Copley loves these guys.

#the old guard #joe x nicky #yusuf x nicolo #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #POV James Copley #Trolls will be trolls #And then a little badass #And then trolls again #As one does when one has had 900 years to perfect their trolling #And a partner who loves trolling too #A gift for my dearest paperstorm

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xvnqsb · 4 years ago

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Desidrium

DESIDRIUM: AN ARDENT DESIRE OR LONGING

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is for @buckysmischief writing challenge! sorry it took so long to post, I kept changing the plot. and it’s all over the place because I write before I think so I apologize. Hope you all enjoy!

MASTERLIST

----==========================

2013

“You don’t have to do this alone,” He whispered into her ear, arms tightening around her. His lips pressed a soft kiss against her neck, inhaling deeply as his nose pressed against her pulse point.

She sighed, shuffling closer into him. She placed her hands over his arms, squeezing them. “I don’t want to, but I have to.”

Her phone lit up, a soft ringtone beginning to play. She reached over and shut it off, groaning at the thought of having to work. She got up, untangling herself from Steve’s grip. The shirt fell to her thighs, and she pushed the loose hair out of her face that fell from her braid.

“I can go on the mission with-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Rogers,” Her eyes met his through the vanity mirror, holding a stern glare. “You’re still healing from the last mission.”

“I heal faster-”

“-Than a normal human, I know. Yet, it’s been three days and you’re still sore and bruised so, you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

He grunted in response, flopping onto his back. His head fell to the side as he watched her get ready, braiding her dyed jet-black her and bobby pinning loose pieces to keep out of her face. He watched her as she changed into the S.H.I.E.L.D. mandated suit, smiling as she huffed at the tightness of the sleeves.

“Need help?” He asked cheekily.

She glared at him with an unamused face, quirking an eyebrow as she spoke. “Not now, but when I get back I will.”

He smiled, eyebrows raising. “Oh, I like the sound of that.”

“Not for sex, Captain,” She turned to face him, shoving her feet into her shoes.

“Then for what?”

“Guess you’ll find out.” She walked over to the bed, bending down and planting a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

He sighed quietly, tracing her jaw softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She grabbed her phone, walking out of the bedroom. He heard the clinking of her keys and the door unlocking.

“Call me when you get to Hill!”

“I will!” And she was gone.

“What the hell, Fury!” Steve was mad. Not mad, angry. Not even angry, he was furious. He didn’t know what to think, or if he was even feeling the correct emotions.

“Can someone explain to me what the hell is going on?” Fury asked his team at the same time, trying to understand the situation.

“The team we sent inside the base went dark an hour ago-” Commander Hill started, furiously clicking away at the tablet.

“An hour? And we’re just being informed now?” Fury exclaimed.

“Agent Y/L/N said that HYDRA was intercepting their communications, so she requested permission to go dark.”

“And you gave it to her?”

“No, they went dark before I could answer,” She pulled up their body cam footage, showing Steve and Fury. “This is the last thing we saw.”

Y/N was leading the team, gun in front of her as she rounded the corners. The other agents followed her lead, communicating with hand signals and few words.

“Do you smell that?” She muttered into her comms, covering her nose.

“Yeah, smells like shit.” Agent Garrison answered, a snort coming from the leader.

“We’re almost at the lab, maybe it’s just what they’re working on.” Another agent, Agent Richardson, jumped in.

“Maybe. Just be caref-”

She was cut off by another female voice. “They’re heading for the lab, hurry!”

The team of five froze, listening for any sign of movement. They set up a secure system, Agent Y/L/N lifting her wrist to her lips.

“Commander Hill, this is Team Alkaline. We’ve been intercepted. Requesting permission to go dark. I repeat we’ve been intercepted. Requesting permission to go dark.”

There was no noise, but all agents turned to face behind them, guns raised at the threat. The body cameras shut off at that moment, and the communication system went silent.

Steve felt his pulse quickening, heart beating fast as he replayed the events over in his head.

“We’ve been working on getting the last image all bodycams showed, and the audio that was last heard.”

“Commander Hill!” One of the agents called, grabbing the attention of all three. “We were able to get the last image.”

“What is it?” Steve asked as they all gathered around the computer. A blurry image of a figure holding some type of weapon.

“Can you enhance the image?” Hill asked, Fury huffing at the lack of identity.

“We’re trying, but so far it’s no use.”

“Isn’t the point of high-end, S.H.I.E.L.D. created and operated body cameras to capture all images?”

“Yes sir, but-”

“Then why the hell did we lose images from 5 cameras. Not one, not two. Five.”

“It wasn’t the cameras, sir. There was some sort of interference.”

“Well fix it!”

“Give me the location,” Steve spoke up. Fury and Hill turned to him, already shaking their heads. “It’s not a request. I’ll get the location one way or another. I like not having to go behind your backs.”

Maria sighed, tapping on the tablet before his S.H.I.E.L.D. mandated phone buzzed against his thigh. She gave him a stern look as she spoke. “You have 24 hours. You leave in ten.”

Steve emerged from one of the side rooms, Agent Romanoff leaning against the wall opposite. They walked together towards their waiting quinjet, Steve fidgeting with his helmet that rested in his hands.

“Do you know anything?” He asked, assuming the agent knew more than she led on.

“Just what you know,” She glanced at him before stepping up into the quinjet.

The 3-hour ride to the HYDRA base was filled with Steve going over the plan with the STRIKE team, even coming up with back-up plans for the back-up plans.

Regardless of how much Steve wanted to jump out of the quinjet, slam through the HYDRA base, find her and bring her home, he knew he needed to be careful. One wrong move and they can kill her.

So he waited until the quinjet landed a mile away from the base, practically running out of the open door. The team moved quickly and in formation, sweeping for guards. Steve canvassed the area before turning to Natasha.

“Cover me.” She nodded, gun out as he held his shield in front of him and took off to the front of the base.

He never made it.

The building exploded, causing him to fly back towards the team. They pulled him to safety, Steve panting as he watched it burn.

“This is Agent Romanoff, the target has exploded, I repeat, the target has exploded.”

2014

“Bucky?” Steve couldn’t believe it. Bucky, his Bucky, was alive. After 70 years, he was still alive.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” He looked down, before raising his arm with the gun trained on him.

He never got to shoot. Natasha had thrown him back with the rocket launcher.

Later, when he and Natasha were in the bunker of Camp Lehigh, Zola had flashed a picture that had burned itself into his mind. As he held the shield above him to cover him and Nat, he couldn’t help but think. She’s really alive?

It had been a year, and the base had blown up, but she was alive.

So after Steve had let Bucky beat him to a pulp, something he thought never would have happened back in the ‘40s, and saved him from drowning in the water, he had asked Sam to look for him.

Sam, of course, was happy to. Helping the Captain America with a personal task? He couldn’t be more ecstatic.

“And there’s someone else I need you to look for.” Steve had said, seriously and quietly.

“Yeah, anything.” Sam had replied.

Steve was sure he could trust him, he just didn’t know if he could trust her. It had been a year, and if HYDRA really had her, he didn’t know what she was capable of.

“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N, but she has multiple aliases’ that I’ll send you. She…” he looked out the car window, watching the people passing. “We were dating when she disappeared. Or, been assumed dead. The base she had been at, exploded when we were on the rescue mission.”

“I’m sorry, man.” Sam clapped his hand on Steve’s shoulder, giving him a somber look. “I’ll find them, I promise.”

2015

“Sounds like a hell of a fight,” Sam said with a drink in his hand. “Sorry I missed it.”

Steve smiled, “If I had known it was going to be a firefight, I absolutely would have called you.”

“No, I’m not actually sorry,” He started, stopping his walk with the captain. “I’m just trying to sound tough. I’m very happy chasing cold leads on our missing persons’s case. Avenging is your world. Your world is crazy.”

“Be it ever so humble.” Steve wanted to ask what Sam had found, on both Bucky and Y/N. Even if it was a cold lead, it was better than nothing.

“You find a place in Brooklyn yet?” Sam asked, changing the topic.

“I don’t think I can afford a place in Brooklyn.

“Well,” Sam started, taking a sip of his drink. “Home is home, you know?”

After Ultron, and after Sokovia, Steve decided to help Sam in his spare time. He was a mentor at the compound, so it was mostly during the night.

“I have a lead,” Sam said one night over the phone. Steve had stopped his drawing, pencil tense in his hand. “I’m going after it.”

“Where?” His voice was strong, although he wasn’t.

“Somewhere in Europe.” Steve looked at him with an exasperated look. “I don’t want to give your hopes up. Let me check it out, and if it looks legit, I’ll let you know.”

“Is it for her?” He sounded hopeful, despite his lack of hope after two years.

Sam pressed his lips together, shaking his head.

2016

Bucky was in Bucharest. Y/N was nowhere to be found.

Bucky was wanted for the assassination of T’Chaka. Steve had to make sure he went free. He was his best friend, even if he didn’t remember.

“Steve,” Sam caught the attention of the super-soldier. They were readying themselves for their mission of rescuing Bucky, but Sam had just found evidence of her alive. “Was one of Y/N’s alias’ ‘Vaness Jackson’”

“Yeah, it was like her first one. Why?” Steve didn’t recall giving it to him, even forgetting about it himself.

“Oh shit,” Sam muttered, staring at his tablet. “We need to get moving, now.”

So they did, and as Steve felt fear trickle up his spine, the thought of his Bucky killing him here, in his small apartment in Bucharest, where he didn’t know anything or anyone, he whispered a prayer for her to hear.

“Y/N, please.”

But Bucky heard it. And he smashed his fist through the floor, gripping the strap of his bag. He threw it out the window, ready to run. But he turned to him first, no emotion behind his eyes.

“If you want to live, never say that name again.”

Steve ran after him, obviously. He wasn’t losing Bucky now, especially if he knew where she was. But as they ran, a man in a black catsuit appeared. And then they were caught by the police force and transferred to a facility.

“You like cats?” Sam asked T’Challa.

“Sam.” Steve sighed

“What? Dude shows up dressed like a cat and you don’t wanna know more?”

Steve didn’t get to answer. Something hit the glass of the van, cracking the window. The small object stayed in the broken spot, and Steve leaned closer to examine it.

“Gun!” The man beside him yelled out, the policemen turning to look at him. Steve realized he was right, the bullet stuck in the glass. “Drive faster!”

“Someone’s trying to kill us!” Sam yelled, forgetting about the catsuit entirely. “And I don’t think America will be very happy that you let us die!”

Another one hit the window, cracking it more, but it never broke through.

“What the hell?” Sam exclaimed, moving to look at it closer. The last bullet landed in Sam’s area, his eyes widening before he moved away from it. “Yeah, I’m not doing this. Steve, tell them to hurry up.”

Steve tilted his head, trying to figure out why they didn’t continue the assault. The officers finally picked up the pace, oblivious to the fact that someone was trying to kill them.

“They marked us,” Sam spoke up, the two looking at him incredulously. “Each bullet is marking us. We’re their target.”

Steve couldn’t worry about that right now. Right now, he had to save Bucky.

And they were almost free when Tony showed up in Germany. They needed the trap, needed a way out undetected. But someone else showed up. They were shooting at Tony’s team, hitting T’Challa in the knee. He rolled behind a car, pulling the object from his leg. When he held it up, Steve couldn’t believe his eyes. A tranquilizer.

With one man down, Tony began going overdrive. The spider kid was swinging through the air when he was hit, the amount immediately knocking him out. He was falling straight to the ground, and Tony flew after him. Steve and Bucky ran towards the jet, stopping when Natasha held her Widow’s Bite to them.

“You’re not gonna stop.”

“You know I’m not.”

She stared at him, before coming to a decision. “I’m gonna regret this.”

Steve waited for the sting of the bite, but it didn’t come. Instead, it hit T’Challa, who had woken up sometime during the interaction.

Steve and Bucky ran into the quinjet, escaping the airport.

“I told you, you shouldn’t have said that name.”

“What?” Steve looked at him, still panting from the fight. “What name?”

“Her name.”

The realization hit Steve, his heart pounding with happiness at the thought that she was alive. “She’s alive?”

“She’s like a ghost except she was never dead.” Bucky stopped, before turning to his friend. “How do you know her?”

“She’s my girlfriend. Or w-was my girlfriend. She went MIA three years ago.”

Bucky sighed, not knowing how to break the news. “Steve, she’s not the same girl you know.”

“What?” He looked between the sky and the former sergeant. “Wait, how do you know her?”

“Steve…”

He didn’t want to know what he meant. He wanted to just live in oblivion, his sweet girl in his arms as she marveled about Johnny Depp and Ryan Reynolds and how she wanted dogs in the future and kids and how she loved him. But instead, he was left with the sick feeling in his gut as he knew what Bucky meant.

She didn’t love Ryan Reynolds or Johnny Depp. She didn’t love dogs or kids. She wasn’t in his arms, scratching his back softly as she pressed kissed to his chest where his heart lay. She had marked them as her targets, turned into a killer by HYDRA. Taken and brainwashed as they did Bucky in the ‘40s. When he thought his best friend was dead, as he watched him fall from the train hundreds of feet up in the mountain. Bucky screaming at the terror of what comes next. What comes after death. And HYDRA took his Bucky from him.

And again in 2013, when he watched the body cameras of her team being ambushed. The fear in her voice that only he knew. When she froze as the thought of her life ending became the most realistic thought. When she knew that requesting to go dark was the best option, so their friends didn’t have to see them killed like pigs in the slaughter. The way he still had hope, as he ran for the HYDRA base, just for it to go up in flames and killing every single ounce of hope he wanted to hand on to. And HYDRA took his Y/N from him.

2018

Steve, Sam, and Natasha had been on the run for two years now. Avengers Civil War is what the media had called his last interaction with Tony, his other best friend. He swore he saw her, more than once over the grueling two years. As if she was following him. That would be the biggest plot twist in his life since the great assassin known as the Winter Soldier was revealed to be James Barnes, and he woke up from the ice 70 years later.

So they went to Wakanda, after picking up Bruce and Rhodey. And they fought alongside each other, his best friend nice and healthy. And he thought they had won. Until Steve.

Steve looked over, to see his best friend turning into dust, disappearing fully in front of his eyes.

When Carol arrived from space, willing to find Tony and then taking them to Thanos, he thought they would be able to reverse it. Get Bucky back. And Y/N, if she wasn’t alive.

Thanos had destroyed the stones.

Steve had lost himself. He was angry and hurt, and sad, and frustrated. He left Natasha alone in the compound and moved back into his Brooklyn apartment. He stayed within his walls until he opened his own support group for those who also suffered.

Not knowing if you were dead, he was hanging by a thread.

He was drinking a beer, despising his lack of the ability to get drunk. He was missing Sam today, more than usual. He thought he heard her laugh, and sighed, shaking his head. He chuckled at himself, but it turned into full-blown sobs. He hugged the blanket that still smelled like her, because he washed it with her favorite detergent when the smell went away. He cried for her to return, to help him find himself. He cried for the years they lost. For the family, he craved and yearned for. The one he was supposed to build with her.

Steve cried himself to sleep, his heart aching for the girl he loved.

Here’s the thing. Steve didn’t believe in guns. Sure, he had to use one when he was at basic training in the ‘40s, but now? He didn’t need one. He had his shield, which protected him when he jumped out of a building, so why wouldn’t it protect him from guns? He thought they were stupid and dangerous and had been shot at way too many times its annoying.

So, when he woke to someone in his apartment, his immediate instinct was to throw his shield. But he didn’t have it. Tony did. So Steve did the next best thing. Pretended to still be sleeping, despite his anxiety of escaping safe and quiet.

“You can point your gun at me if it helps you relax,” The voice spoke, the hairs on the back of his neck rising and chills going down his spine. “Unless you still don’t believe in them.”

He opened his eyes, finding the girl sitting on his windowsill and watching the sky, trying to find stars in the night sky. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even move a muscle.

She chuckled softly, before turning to face him. He quickly shut his eyes, afraid of what will happen. Will she disappear? Kill him? This was his mind playing tricks on him.

“I know you’re awake, Captain.”

Captain.

Steve opened his eyes, looking at where she last was. She turned to face him, the moonlight illuminating her face. It was her. It was her.

“Hey stranger,” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes like it used to. “Long time no see.”

He sat up, clutching onto the blanket in his lap. “Yeah.”

“You look good.” She reached over to turn on the lamp, blinking at the sudden change in light. “Although, I prefer the beard and long hair.”

He felt like he was floating. “That-that was you?”

She nodded, letting out a deep sigh. “It’s a long story, but, when I found out you saved Bucky, I decided to look for you. You guys all looked so different, and the new guy, Sam? Didn’t know who he was and didn’t want to risk it. He’s a great detective.”

“Y-Yeah. Helped me find Buck.” She watched his face, before standing up. She slowly moved towards him, sitting across from him on the coffee table.

“How are you, Steve?” Her hands were clasped together, eyebrows furrowed as she looked at him in worry. “This isn’t how I meant to come back into your life, but I’m worried about you.”

Come back?

“Yeah, come back. I-if that’s okay with you.” He didn’t realize he had spoken aloud and was worried she would leave.

“Of course I want you to come back,” He whispered. He reached his hand out and smoothed her worry lines, a small smile making its way onto her face. “I’ve just missed you.”

“Yeah?” She grabbed his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. She held it against her cheek, relief flooding his system. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

The crack in her voice made his heartache. He caressed her cheek with his thumb.

“You didn’t answer me, Rogers,” She spoke, looking him in the eyes. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” But the tears threatening to spill didn’t help the lie.

“Oh, Steve,” She stood, wrapping her arms around him and caressing the back of his head as he sobbed into her stomach. She whispered soft words of encouragement, telling him to let it all out. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.

“I’m sorry,” He hiccuped, resting his head against her. She hummed, rubbing behind his ears. He soon calmed, pulling back. “It’s just-you were missing, for 6 years and MIA, and the HYDRA base was blown up and-”

“Steve, look at me, listen to me” His eyes met hers. She looked like herself, but she also looked different. Older. Sadder. Tenser. Anxious. “I’m here, and maybe, one day, I’ll tell you about what happened, but for now, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve woke up to Y/N laughing at something on TV. She was sitting up, her leg over Steve’s back and her hand on his head. He pressed a quick kiss to her thigh, her eyes wandering over to blonde man. He had let his hair grow out, but his beard was still gone.

“Morning,” She said cheerily, removing her leg from his back and allowing him to roll over. He sighed, a smile on his lips.

“Mornin’ to you,” She planted a kiss on his cheek, a smile that reached her eyes planted on her face. He cupped her cheeks, staring lovingly in her eyes.

She’s back.

#gabs26 #dessie's works #dessie's works for writing challenges #steverogersxreader #steve rogers

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mitsususu · 4 years ago

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Christmas in July! (Or whenever you’re wanting to read festive goodness) Below are my Top 5 Favorites:

“If Only In My Dreams” (T, 28k) by odetteandodile

Bucky is a highly successful cooking and lifestyle blogger, the gay New England Pioneer Woman if you will. He writes all about life in his Connecticut home with his D.H. (darling husband). Only problem? It’s all complete fiction. He actually lives in a shitty Brooklyn apartment, is single as hell, and has visited Connecticut exactly one time at the age of eight.

When his agent Sam informs him that he's been offered an exclusive sponsorship deal with Stark Media and a three book contract to go with it, Bucky's forced to fess up to Sam, who's predictably...displeased. But Sam's also convinced the deal is too good to miss—even if they have to put on a little bit of a show in order to get it.

So Tony and Pepper descend on Bucky and Sam's fake home for Christmas with a devastatingly handsome War Hero in tow, and their already complicated plan quickly gets even more complicated as Bucky finds himself falling head over heels for Steve. Can he keep it together just for the holidays? Did he ever have it together in the first place?

+ A 1945 movie “Christmas in Connecticut” AU

-☆-

“Get Scrooged” (T, 19k) by leveragehunters

You'll be haunted by three spirits. The first is gonna come tomorrow when the bell tolls one. That's in the morning. The second's gonna come the next day at the same time, and the third, same again.

Bucky was keeping his head down in his tiny apartment in Bucharest, because that's what you did when you were a former brainwashed assassin and never knew who might be coming after you. You kept your head down, you didn't draw attention, and you tried real hard not to think about what you'd done, all while trying to piece together your fractured memory.

But it doesn't matter how down you keep your head—once the Bureau of Christmas Spirit has you in its sights, you're getting a visit from the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet to Come. No appeal, no review, and you can't lock the doors and pretend you're not home.

Luckily for Bucky his Ghosts have their own agenda, but whatever happens...someone's getting Scrooged.

+ Post WS, Bucky gets a visit from Pre-WW2 Bucky&Steve, Peggy, and Pierce

-☆-

“Paper Tree” (E, 21k) by Ellessey

Bucky just laughs and shoves another bite of egg in his mouth, giving Steve a shrug and a full-cheeked smile. He's so damn cute Steve wants to shout at him, but he can't seem to say any of the right things. "Shoulda got you a comb for Christmas," is what he comes up with instead.

"What did you get me?"

It's Steve's turn to shrug now, and if he looks more terrified than cheeky as he does so, he can only hope Bucky doesn't catch it before Steve hurries out the door.

On December first, Steve wraps up a letter for Bucky and sets it under their Christmas tree. Now he has twenty-four days left to figure out how to tell Bucky what he wrote, face to face.

+ Pre-WW2, mutual pining all around

-☆-

“The 12 Trees of Christmas” (T, 9k) by GoodbyeBlues

'Suddenly 'soft' and 'dark' and 'lush' were no longer adjectives fit to be tied to just his Douglas Fir, because the man from the ladder was approaching him, a shy smile on his flawless face, and Steve was totally gone.'

...

Steve purchases an outrageous number of Christmas trees and accidentally creates a tiny apartment forest, all because he needs an excuse to visit adorably shy tree farmer Bucky Barnes. Lots of fluff and Christmas feels abound!

+Shrunkyclunks, or what happens when an awkward man tries to flirt

-☆-

“Here Comes Santa Claus” (E, 6k) by LilyInTheSnow

Bucky maybe has a thing for Santa Claus so he's not really surprised when Becca calls him and tells him to get to the mall right now because she's just seen the hottest mall Santa ever and Bucky really needs to come check him out.

+ Shrunkyclunks, Captain America does a strip tease

-☆-

*More Christmas fics in the Demon, Genderbend, and Shopping lists

#stucky #stucky fic #odetteandodile #LilyInTheSnow #leveragehunters #Ellessey #GoodbyeBlues #fic rec #Top 5 Favs

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darksunrising · 5 years ago

Text

Sola Gratia (8/?)

Masterlist

Rating / Warnings : General audiences, no particular warnings.

Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.

Part 8/? (2033 words)

Author’s notes : A bit shorter, but big one coming up next !

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

As soon as I dismissed the class, chatter started filling the small auditorium, along with chairs dragging to the wooden floors. The sun was almost set, and everyone, including me, was exhausted, and so the room emptied itself fast. Vlad, who sat at the back during the whole day, went down the stairs and joined me at my desk, a coy little smirk on the corner of his lips.

“Well, what did the expert think ?”, I asked as I started putting away my stuff.

“A few kinks to work out here and there, but overall, not too bad”, he commented, leaning back against the blackboard. “However…” He raised an eyebrow. “I see you snaked around a certain historical figure. An important one, if I do say so myself.”

I groaned. “It didn’t mention what didn’t need mentioning in this class.”

“You know, and not to be a narcissist, but there is a good chance half of your students took that class hoping to learn about the Infamous Impaler”, he commented.

He looked so smug. If I didn’t know what he was, he could just have been a nerd way too much into role-play. With great fashion tastes, and nice hair. Anyway.

“Actually, I did promise them last semester that we would do a class on that subject”, I told him, turning to face him, sitting back on my desk. “Then, I took a holiday, which somehow had me change my mind.”

He winced, and took the sorriest puppy-dog face I had ever seen in my entire existence. For crying out loud. “Don’t play victim with me, jerk”, I grumbled.

“Why, is it working ?”, he teased.

Before I could reply anything witty, I was interrupted by a voice timidly calling out my name. A pale, tired-looking student was waiting awkwardly at the foot of the podium, expectantly looking up at me. I had no idea who he was, which was a bit frustrating, as I always paid attention to that sort of thing.

“Do you have any questions about the lecture ?”, I asked him, inviting him to step closer. “Remind me your name, I'm sorry, I can't seem to place you...”

“Stephan Helder”, he told me with a little smile. “I just transferred here.”

Well, at least, it made me feel a little bit better about the looming prospect of Alzheimer's disease. I vaguely did remember an e-mail from Laurent informing me I'd have a transfer student from London taking my course, but I didn't think it went further into detail.

“Do you want the notes for last semester’s courses ? I could e-mail them to you.”

“No, actually, I didn’t come here for that, I have something I’d like to ask you about”, he nervously told me, as his eyes kept darting to Vlad.

“That’s fine, go ahead !” I tried to give him a reassuring smile. “This is professor Balaur, from the University of Bucharest. He might be able to help too. He's very... Savvy on the subject of this class, to put it mildly.”

I gave a quick look towards him, to which he responded with a half-wink.

“I am thinking of doing my master’s degree here”, Helder began, seemingly a bit less tense. “I talked to professor Laurent Rasab, and he agreed to tutor it, but I would like to have your tutorage as well.”

I was taken aback for a moment. No student ever asked for my tutorage on anything, not even advice on the assignments I gave out. Which wasn't very wise, as I always offered, and always ended up correcting soul-sucking essays that made me want to retire before I even reached 25.

“I don’t know that I’m qualified for that”, I told him with a laugh.

“I’m very interested in your field of study”, he exclaimed. “I would like to study the real involvement of Vlad Tepes in the fight against the ottomans, maybe try to draw the line between fiction and reality, considering his reputation, even to this day. You’ve worked on the attack on Targoviste, right ?”

At least, the lad seemed motivated. Behind me, I could hear Vlad fighting off a fit of laughter, that he hid in a cough. I took a deep breath, turned my attention back on Helder.

“Listen, why don’t you send me an e-mail, and I’ll look at my schedule to fix an appointment ? I’ll get Laurent on it, and we’ll both discuss that with you.”

He nodded, thanked me, and bolted, not before a last, strangely intense look at Vlad. I waited until the door clicked behind him, and let out a long sigh.

“You will be the death of me, you know that ?”

He stepped closer to me, and moved my hair out of my shoulders. I shivered as his fingers ran through the whole length of the strands. “Not with that high a neckline, you can be sure of that.” As he stepped back, he let his knuckles slide down my spine, and denied all responsibility when I protested. Bastard. I put my laptop in my briefcase, and went to turn off the lights.

“By the way, when were you born ? Sources aren’t clear on the date”, I asked as we made our way to the exit.

“March 14th.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I was born the first time on march 14th, the Year of Our Lord 1430, amen.”, he dramatically declared, signing himself upside down.

“You are being childish, for a 590 year-old man.”

“That was fast math, I’m impressed.”

Couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic. I opted for a classic, and rolled my eyes at him.

“I was hoping to see that delightful girlfriend of yours, Leah, was it ?”, he told me as we walked through the mostly empty corridors of the old building.

I sighed. “Not my girlfriend. She's at work today, and believe me, I would rather have spent the day with her.”

“I will pretend I didn’t hear that”, he hissed, falsely offended.

I was starting to get used to his company. Without being so drastic as to enjoy it, his presence at my side didn’t seem so ominous anymore. During my lectures, he had been listening intently, nodding along when I was in the right. I don’t know if he even noticed he did. Before every pause, he somehow slipped out of the room, and came back right as I dismissed class with coffee, and a written list of every historical character I mentionned, commenting on their personality, or their quirks. The whole time, he spoke in a hushed voice, half in french, so that no one but me would hear or understand. As a french person myself, I had never thought having a foreign accent was as sexy as everyone seemed to believe, which is why I worked on mine constantly. However. When he spoke french, the way he rolled his ‘r’s, or pronounced some words, sent darts to my chest. I sometimes had to gather all the strength of my will to listen to what he actually said.

Lost in thought, I almost didn’t notice we were almost at his car. As usual, he opened the door for me. For once, I didn't debate him, and just got in.

I plugged my iPod into the radio, and set my ‘driving at night’ playlist, masterfully crafted over the years. Not necessarily sad, but definitely not upbeat. Vlad didn’t say anything, but I caught him mouthing the lyrics of the chorus, once he caught them. I nestled into my seat, letting my head press against the window. I watched the street lamps light up the raindrops on the glass as they rolled down. The whole ride was quiet on our parts, but it didn’t feel awkward, as it often does. When he stopped in front of my building, I stopped the music, and hesitated a second. Before I got out, I turned to Vlad.

“Five minutes, wait for me at my window.”

Not leaving him the time to reply, I got out, and through the front door. I don’t think I ever climbed my stairs so fast. Locking behind me, I hurried to feed the monster, already trying to climb my leg in outrage, and shut myself in my room. As I expected, he was waiting outside, on the fire escape stairs. I opened the window, kneeling on my bed. He sat on the windowsill, waiting for me to talk.

“If we are to continue this…” I tried to find the appropriate term.

“Relationship ?”, he proposed.

“If we are to continue this”, I rephrased, gesturing to put emphasis, “I have to make some things clear.” He nodded, and I took a deep breath. “First, we don’t tell Leah what you are. I don’t want that on her mind. Second, you don’t murder people. I just can’t go around being friends with someone who drinks humans like Capri-Suns every night.”

“How do you suggest I feed, then ?”, he asked. I didn’t think about that. He leaned closer, grinning. “Are you offering yourself in exchange ?”

Instinctively, I jerked myself back to the edge of my bed. He apologised. Squinting at him, I sat back where I was. A bit too soon for that sort of jokes.

“Can’t you ‘go vegan’ ?”, I asked, air-quoting. “Eat animals ?”

He sighed. “I could. It doesn’t do me well, to be honest.” He looked... embarrassed. “You saw it firsthand. The horse just made me hungrier. Less… controlled.” He took a pause. “I would rather murder some humans than put you at risk again.”

I felt a tiny pinch to my heart. Ah. “Does it hurt ?”, I asked, in the only tiny whisper that managed to get out of my throat.

He snapped his head toward me. “I beg your pardon ?”

“Does it hurt, when you feed ? The people you feed on, I mean”, I added, a bit louder, yet still coming out squeaky.

He seemed to take a moment to debate his answer, taking an inspiration, and deciding against it a couple of times. “It does not”, he finally breathed out. “It takes you away, where you want to be most.”

A beach, infinite. A dark sky and a setting sun. Soft waves, and golden sand.

“Can you at least promise you won’t kill anyone ?”

“Ah !” He sighed, seeming relieved, and a bit disappointed. He looked back at me, with a soft smile. “They will dream, and not remember, or feel a thing. I promise.”

I slowly nodded, and propped myself up on the windowsill, feet still safely on my bed. I looked up at him, and his expression softened ever so slightly. The moon and the lampposts cast a blue and orange light on his features, playing along the curves and sharp edges of his face.

“Is that all, dear ?”, he asked.

“Don’t call me ‘dear’”, I instantly retorted.

“Fine, darling.”

I groaned, throwing my head back as I heard his soft laughter. As I brought my head back down, it was to find his hand, curled under my chin. His thumb brushed lightly past my lip, almost by accident, to finish on my cheek. My heart stopped a second. He hummed, and placed a kiss on my forehead.

“Sleep well, Eris.”

I breathed in, but just like that, he was gone, leaving me to look out for a bat, quickly vanishing in the night sky.

Someone, close, was also looking out for the bat as it flew over the rooftops. A ray of moonlight caught a glimpse of silver hair, the frost of a blue eye. It couldn’t happen again. Not after the last disaster, and the one before that. The thin, long fingers clenched so hard into their palms, drops of red tricked down, slowly. Before any drop could be lost to the ground, a pale tongue took care of it.

The Council wouldn’t be pleased.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock @thebeautyofdisorder @festering-queen @my-fanfic-library

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mcukinkbang · 5 years ago

Text

IT'S THE FINAL ROUNDUP!

Well fellow kinksters, it's that bittersweet time of year where we bid our 'see you laters' and 'Ta, ta for nows. We want to thank all of our amazing participants for creating all of the amazing content for this year's bang, you're all the absolute best! And without all of you, this bang wouldn't be possible! And what better way to say thank you than to put all that Hard work into one great big post!

Everyone, a round of applause, kudos, comments, reblogs, and likes for All is this year's Works and participants! We present to you, the Final round-up!

No Doubt

Author: NachoDiablo [Ao3|Tumblr] Artist: Piglet_Illustrations [Ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW post

Summary: Steve's de-serumed during a mission snafu. Sam and Bucky don't mind at all.

Boy Crush

Author: Lasgalendil [Ao3|Tumblr] Artist:Neutralchaos [AO3|Twitter]

Link to DW post

Summary: Steve wanted—no, needed—to be that watermelon. He was dying of dehydration and Bucky’s dick was the only cure. There was something sexy about the idea of putting his head between those thick thighs, feeling the power of them squeeze around his ears—

…oh.

Steve Rogers /might/ have a danger kink.

Second Chances

Author: Sparkly_butthole [ao3|Tumblr] Artist: Boparadise [Ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary: Bucky coming into the fold has some unforeseen consequences, such as the potential for making Steve's wildest dream come true, the thing he'd almost had once and then lost. Bucky and Natasha... well, they don't need much convincing.

I Thought You Were Smaller

Author: thewaythatwerust [ao3|tumblr] Artist: larkeydo [twitter|tumblr]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary: “‘Don’t do anything stupid until I get back,’ I said.” Bucky’s fingers press deeper into Steve’s unyielding wrist, pulling him farther away from the clearing, toward the cover of trees that surround it. “‘How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you,’ you said.” He drops Steve’s hand and spins, almost tripping over a broken tree root in the dark. Spitting out a curse, he catches himself before he goes sprawling to the ground. He shakes his head, glowering at Steve. “Well, from where I’m standing, I see a lot of stupid, Steve. A whole lot more than there was when I left.”

…

Or, the one where Bucky explores Steve’s new post-serum body for the first time.

Can we always be this close?

Artist: boparadise [Ao3|Tumblr] Author: bangyababy [Ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary: Bucky’s been away on a business trip for quite some time. Steve figures out the perfect way to welcome him home.

That Damn Motorcycle Jacket

author: DeamonSlayer576 [Ao3|Tumblr] Artist: blue-reveries [Ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary: Steve gets suspicious when Bucky starts taking frequent visits away from the house and does some investigating. What he finds surprises him and *plot twist* leaves him with a secret of his own.

Best Laid Plans

Author: GrumpyBones[Ao3|Tumblr] Artist: Lasgalendil [Ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary: Bucky's snuck up Steve's fire escape past curfew more times than he could literally count by the time he's eighteen. A standing invitation to come and go as he pleased from the Rogers' apartment meaning that he's climbed in on Steve mid-dance lesson with a pillow, surprised the poor guy while he's changing, and interrupting everything from drawing, dreaming, and anything else a seventeen year old may be doing alone in their room.

But Bucky's only ever seen this in his own mental concoctions.

The one in which Bucky learns how easy it is to keep walking in on a show when it's intentionally being put on.

Sweet Stevie

Author: thefilthiestpiglet [Ao3|Tumblr] Artist: LadyAngelique [Ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary: If anyone else had said those words, if Steve wasn’t feeling the hairpin tug gently at his hair, if Bucky hadn’t been so careful to let Steve call the shots this entire time, Steve would have socked them in the mouth. But it’s Bucky, sitting there looking so fond and tender, so Steve shuffled over and planted himself on Bucky’s knee.

Bucky ran a hand along Steve’s shoulder, and Steve relished the feeling of Bucky’s firm callouses caressing his small shoulders. “Daddy,” he breathed, leaning into the touch.

“I’m here, kiddo.” At Steve’s frown, Bucky winced apologetically. “That’s a no on ‘kiddo’, then. Baby-doll? Stevie?” Steve nodded.

The Taste of Victory

Artist: Emmatheslayer [Ao3|Tumblr] Author: xxxRIPLEYxxx [Ao3|Tumblr]

Link to Dw Masterpost

Summary: Loki and Steve are two crazy kids hopelessly in love. They're also pretty awful people who have just defeated Iron Man, the last Avenger standing, so they can rule Earth. Steve has been waiting for this a long time, and Tony Stark in chains is Loki's gift to Steve.

Steve and Bucky's Continuing Kinky Adventures

Author: chilibabie07 [Ao3|Tumblr] Artist: hey_you_with_the_face [Ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW post

Summary: “I thought I'd give you a nice welcome home present,” Steve says and winks at Bucky, before rolling over and arching his back.

Inside Down, Upside Out

Author: emptydistractions [Ao3|Tumblr] Artist: piglet_illustrations [Ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW post

Summary: “Look at yourself,” Rumlow said with a sneer. “Look how you let us use you. It’s all over your face, your body. It’s humiliating. They’ll be ashamed to let you be seen with them.”

It's not a hard mission. Be the Winter Soldier again. Walk right back into Hydra's waiting arms, get the intel, and sneak out. Bucky's pretty sure he can do this.

God, he hopes he can do this.

Mutation

Author: meshkol [Ao3|Tumblr] Artist: less_than_wholesome [Ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW post

Summary: During a raid on a HYDRA base in Germany as the Avengers look for Loki's sceptre, a villain injects Steve Rogers with an unknown serum and turns him into something else, something massive and insatiable and powerful.

Tony learns this the hard way.

'cause my heart ain't got enough

Artist: fondblondie [Twitter] Author: dragongirlg [Ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW post

Summary: Captain America disappears during an Avengers mission in Lagos gone awry. Bucky, who’s been recovering his memories in Bucharest, goes to the Avengers facility in New York to investigate. After surrendering himself to the Avengers’ custody, Bucky wakes up to see Steve Rogers at his bedside—small, like he never got the serum. Things quickly get heated as Bucky gives in to the instinct to take care of Steve whichever way Steve wants, regardless of who’s watching.

The Barbershop Suite

Author: Huntress79 [ao3|Tumblr] Artist: heyboy [ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary: Having your best friend as your soulmate and your lover was already a gift Steve could never be thankful enough for. But having two more soulmates was something neither he nor Bucky ever expected to happen.

Heavy Enough to Give the Heart Ease

Author: sharkie335 [Ao3|Tumblr] Artist: thefilthiestpiglet [ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary: Bucky did the right thing when the Avengers were out on a call. But it was against orders, and now he's all twisted up in his head. He needs Steve to help him put it right.

Satin and Spice

Author: themirrordarkly [Ao3|Tumblr] Artist: chilibabie07[Ao3|Twitter]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary: Steve and Bucky go uncover to attend a royal ball to stop an assassination attempt. Steve can't keep his eyes off Bucky. After the mission they need to unwind, and Bucky has some sexy ideas to work off the adrenaline rush. Steve can't say no to that! Besides, he likes that Bucky can be free to ask for what he wants now, and Steve is more than happy to oblige.

All I need to know is there is no end to love

Author: SomeSortofItalianRoast [Ao3|Tumblr] Artist: HeyBoy [Ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary: After years of having team-building orgies with the Avengers, Steve decides it’s time to ask them to do something he’s always wanted. He wants them to gang bang him, as a team, on the carpeted floor of the Stark Penthouse.

Nothing More Lovely

Author: emptydistractions [ao3|tumblr] Artist: xpixelx [ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary:“I’ve left you plenty of slack in case you want to move.” Steve’s breath tickled the back of Bucky’s neck as he left the rope in Bucky’s hands. Steve moved around him, checking the integrity of his knots, his voice low. “But I know you’ll stay still to show everyone just how good you are.”

Steve Rogers has found his dream sub in Bucky Barnes. He's perfect: beautiful and obedient and so, so eager to please. All Steve wants to do is show Bucky off to the entire world. But for now, just New York will have to do.

Tending the Garden

Artist: DarthBloodOrange [Ao3|Tumblr] Author: bangyababy [Ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary: Steve takes care of his garden. His garden helps take care of him.

Pretty

Artist:larkeydo [Ao3|Tumblr] Author: avintagekiss24 [Ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary: Bucky and Steve enjoy a night in - and Steve brings presents.

quiet when i’m coming home, hold me lover like you used to

Author: Moonythejedi394 [Ao3|Twitter|Tumblr] Artist: LadyAngelique [ao3|Twitter]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary: Post mission, Steve is struggling to switch from Nomad headspace to himself. At that point, it’s Bucky’s turn to take point on a new mission. He knows exactly what to do to bring his boy down. When he does, Steve is pliant and happy and calm. A job well done.

The Domme Strikes Back

Author: topdawg27 [Ao3|Tumblr] Artist: HogwartsToAlexandria [Ao3|Tumblr]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary: Post IM2. After a long day in the office, filled with endless meetings, Pepper is bored and horny. She overhears co-workers talking about a Star Wars movie marathon taking place in a theater nearby. And remembers her fuckboi slave, Tony Stark loves Star Wars and being dominated. Now Pepper has always been jealous of Tony’s obsession with Princess Leia. So she concocts a devilishly sexy plan to replace Leia in Tony’s fantasies once and for all.

Top Shelf

Author: themirrordarkly [AO3|Tumblr] Artist: HogwartsToAlexandria [AO3|Tumblr]

Link to DW masterpost

Summary: Bucky Barnes's life after being the former Winter Soldier is a whirlwind of interviews, photoshoots and appearances. He's a celebrity now. And after a long photo shoot, he just wants to come home and be pampered by Tony, his sugar daddy. Is that too much?

Hidden in Plain Sight

Author: HogwartsToAlexandria [AO3|Tumblr] Artist: Nonexistenz [AO3|Tumblr]

Link to DW Master Post

Summary: "Keep it together, Stark, any Alpha within two miles could smell you." Loki growled. Except it wasn't a true growl, and Tony knew it. Of course he did.

"Oh yeah?" Tony swirled his virgin mojito with a slightly trembling hand - way to appear detached, man . "And whose fault is that?"

Or the night Tony knew he could never survive the Avengers PR gala with a mate that made it his mission to make him go crazy.

Sheer to Me, Shine for Me

Author: HogwartsToAlexandria [AO3|Tumblr] Artist: Nonexistenz [AO3|Tumblr]

Link to DW Master Post

Summary: Falling in the void of a mystic tunnel, from one glowy portal to another for thirty minutes straight certainly was the oddest way someone had ever gone about tickling Loki's fancy.

Stephen Strange was unperturbed. Loki was very much compromised.

Or the story of how Loki and Stephen went from carefully opening themselves to each other's gazes, to welcoming their son into the world.

#masterpost #final round up #mcukinkbang #mcu kinkbang 2020

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 5 years ago

Text

Only For A Moment Ch. 40

Master: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: For most of your life you’d been able to keep your abilities a secret, that is until Hydra got wind of you. After years of being in their clutches, you break out when The Avengers expose SHIELD/Hydra. Since then, you’ve been on the run. Things are going as well as you could hope when you see a familiar face… Could the Winter Soldier really be in Bucharest too?

Warnings: Fluff. All the sweet tooth-rotting Christmas fluff.

A/N: Look. I know it’s October but I hope y’all can tolerate this early Christmas gift. These two 100 % deserved some tender Christmas moments after everything don’t you think?

Tags are open!

The last six months had felt endless but the last six weeks were a blur.

Somehow, every morning, he woke up and you were there in his arms. Every day, even the bad ones, he felt the comforting touch of your hand. Most days, he heard your laugh and the ones where he didn’t he was lucky to be there to dry your tears.

He did, despite everything, feel lucky. Every time you caught him staring at you, a little blush rising to your cheeks he felt it—every time you let him touch you, wanted him to touch you, he felt it. Bucky still struggled to wrap his mind around that feeling. To be lucky, after all this time. To be… loved.

Whether it was the passage of time or your presence in his world, he was remembering more and more every day too. It also meant feeling more though and there were times he hated it, times he almost longed to be empty again. It seemed easier than this aching.

Walking down the cold Bucharest streets—filled with happy tourists and locals, lit with Christmas lights strung from anything that would stand still—was one of those times.

All he could think was how his sisters and ma would have loved this. Or… well, the sisters he remembered would love this. The kids who loved Christmas, who couldn’t wait to go ice skating or for the first snow—he’d never know what the women they became would like.

Tears sting his eyes before he pushes the emotions away. It didn’t do any good to dwell on what he’d never know when there was so much he was still trying to remember. Best to focus on the now.

Right now, he was out to get your afternoon coffee.

You’d been watching Mr. Goldstein’s shop while he visited family for Hanukah, even before though you’d been spending some time most every day in the cozy place. Bucky had made a habit of bringing you coffee at least once a day. It made you smile and it was a good excuse to check-in.

Typically he brings you something simple from a local shop but today he wants to get you something special. He’d teased you when you’d groaned in longing after seeing a sign for some peppermint concoction at Starbucks, it sounded disgusting to him—peppermint decidedly did not belong in coffee, but he didn’t have to agree to surprise you.

As he stares at the Starbucks, teeming with bodies, he almost decides against this. He’d been better at crowds recently, you both had, but that was together.

“It’s just a coffee shop, Barnes,” he grumbles to himself. “Get it together.” With that, he takes a deep breath and dives in. It takes nearly a half-hour and what feels like a few years off of his overextended life to get two drinks.

Once outside he takes a few huge gulps of crisp air to try and calm the chaos in his chest. Unfortunately, it does the opposite. The icy cold of the air filling his lungs sends flashes of cryo slicing through his consciousness.

Not real, he tells himself. That’s not real. Not now.

With effort he forces himself to focus on what is real. The smell of the chocolate and peppermint rising from your coffee cup, the sound of the traffic, the laugh of a group of people somewhere to his left, the heat from the coffees slowly seeping through his gloves.

Slowly he opens his eyes. They don’t betray him, revealing only a bustling Bucharest afternoon. Huffing in relief he pulls his scarf over his nose and mouth, wanting to feel as little of the cold against his skin as possible before he heads toward the bookstore.

The now-familiar bell above the door tingles in welcome. You’re not behind the counter, instead, he’s greeted by Victor’s demanding meow.

“Hey, pal.” Gently he scratches under the large orange cat’s chin, earning a loud purr.

There are a few people milling about, Bucky can hear your softly accented Romanian from the children’s section. He peeks around the corner to see you kneeling next to a little boy, advising him on his selection.

You seem to sense his gaze and look up, your beautiful eyes lighting with a smile. Just seeing you chased away the coldness and anxiety that had crept in. He nods and turns to the counter, setting his backpack down, leaving you with your littlest customer.

Sipping his coffee he takes in the other patrons. Assessing people was second nature to him now. They all appear to be just average folks, out doing a little holiday shopping. It doesn’t allow him to let his guard down but it does feel good to know there’s likely no threat nearby at the moment.

Victor stretches languidly as soon as Bucky takes a seat on the stool, his warm lap clearly a preferable bed to the papers on the countertop. As the cat moves he can’t help but see what the feline had been hiding. On various scrap pieces of paper and unwanted receipts are sketches of figures, doodles, a few more detailed drawings of clothing pieces.

Steve would leave similar things around their apartment. Sketches and art supplies littered everywhere, to find Steve you could practically follow the trail. He remembers… one Christmas Steve drew Bucky’s Ma a portrait of him and the girls. Ma had loved it but when she saw that Steve wasn’t in it too she made him put himself in it before getting it framed.

Quickly Bucky reaches into his bag, disturbing Victor in the process. The cat throws him a sideways glance, making his way to the back room. He’d bring him some tuna tomorrow to make up for this egregious offense, but this was a memory he didn’t want to risk forgetting.

After a few minutes, your warm hand settles tenderly between his hunched shoulders. He still shivers with pleasure a little every time you touch him.

“Hey,” your voice is low, lips curled into a soft smile. He wished he could kiss you, the thought distracting him from realizing there are customers approaching the counter.

“Sorry!” He hops up to move away, slightly embarrassed.

You tick up an eyebrow, “Yes, I expect a full written apology for daring to sit here.”

He rolls his eyes, smiling despite himself.

“I wanna pay!” The little boy you’d been helping demands, looking up at his mother, a clearly pregnant young woman.

“Ok, ok,” she laughs handing him a few bills.

“You made a good choice,” you tell him. “I bet your new little sister will love this.”

“Yeah!” He beams with pride as you hand him his change and the book he so carefully chose. His mother thanks you and they head out.

Bucky picks up your cup to distract him from the tightness in his chest, “Here.”

You eye the Starbucks cup before taking a sip. A giggle bursts from your lips causing concern to bloom. “Is it the right one? It was the only peppermint thing they had.”

“It’s perfect. You just swore it was an abomination so I’m surprised.” You take another deep drink, “Thank you.” Behind the counter, you give his thigh a squeeze.

The three other people make their selections and cash out within the next 10 minutes. In that time Bucky makes his way about the shop, making sure things are in relative order so you can leave faster.

Once you’ve locked the door and pulled the shades over the large window he immediately tugs you to him, hungry for your kiss. Instead of feeling your soft lips, he’s met the cardboard of your coffee cup.

“You can kiss me only after you try this.” You give him a mischievous smirk.

“That is far too high a price,” he tries to snake his head around the obstacle.

“Nope,” you scoot to the side, holding the cup between you. “No sip, no kiss, for… 24 hours.”

“Ya know, I feel like I’m being punished here.” Obstinately he crosses his arms.

“Your call.” You flit your tongue out to wet your full bottom lip, clearly teasing him.

“You drive a hard bargain, woman.” Begrudgingly he plucks the cup from your hand and takes a sip. Damn. As much as he wanted to hate it he had to admit that it was very good, a little sweet maybe but hey, it was Christmas.

“So?” You eye him expectantly. Rather than answer he takes another drink, this one much larger than the last. “Hey! That’s mine.”

He holds it above your grasp, “This is your fault. You insisted I try it.” When he goes to drink it again nothing comes out. There’s still plenty in the cup but the liquid doesn’t budge. You’re holding up your right index finger, directing just enough of your power to the coffee to keep it from moving.

Behind you, his own cup hovers in the air, tilting bit by bit on its side. “Put the peppermint mocha down and no one gets hurt,” you say with mock severity.

“No need to get crazy.” Holding his right hand up in surrender he sets your cup down, his follows suit.

“Smart man.”

“Sometimes.” Unable to wait a moment more he kisses you until you’re both breathless—everything in him going quiet.

You make a satisfying sound before patting him on the chest and pulling back. “I gotta close up.”

“Mmm,” he hums, leaning in to nibble your neck.

“Bucky…” He grabs your ass with both hands. “Not in front of the cat.” He pauses, looking down at an indignant Victor. You both stare at the cat for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Wow, way to ruin the moment, pal.” Victor lets out a loud meow before winding his way through both your legs. With a sigh Bucky leans down, gathering the orange beast in his arms. Immediately he’s gifted with loud contented purrs.

You smile at them both tenderly, “You’re cute.” Lifting off the ground a touch you kiss his cheek.

“Will you feed him while I get things ready to go?”

“Sure. Let’s get you some grub buzzkill.” Victor meows in approval.

The sun is just peeking above the horizon when you turn the key in the lock of the shop.

He wishes he could hold your hand, keep the warmth of you close, as you make your way home but with you still in what you call your ‘street drag’ it’s best you don’t. There’s no need to draw undue attention to yourselves. Even so, you walk as close to one another as possible.

The route home runs by the main area of the Christmas Market. You pause, taking in the lights sparkling in the growing dark.

“Wanna walk through it?”

He hates to deny you anything but the thought of this makes his stomach drop. “Uh, if you really want to.” Absently he scratches under his scarf.

“Another night. Let’s get you warm.” He smiles at you, thankful you think it’s just his dislike of the cold keeping him from wanting to be among all those happy families.

Always a woman of your word you do get him warm, in every imaginable way—your body against his, a hot delicious meal, even hot cider. Even so, as he holds you in his arms that night, he can’t shake the sadness.

The closer to Christmas it gets the darker Bucky’s mood seems to become.

He doesn’t have to tell you for you to understand. You’d never really had the ideal All American Christmas experience but you suspect he had sweet memories of the holiday, likely quite a few he was still struggling to remember. It must make the loss worse.

You try to avoid the topic. There’s no talk of gifts or anything like that. Unfortunately, the city is practically a winter wonderland which doesn’t help. Still, you do your best to steer clear of the more festive areas.

“Will you and Grant be celebrating the holiday with family?” Mr. Goldstein asks as you open up the shop on the 22nd.

“We… don’t really have much in the way of families.” It was better than saying that they were all dead but was a bit of a conversation killer nonetheless.

“Ah.” He groans a little as he takes his spot behind the counter. “Will this be your first Christmas then.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “he’s not really, uh, feeling it.”

Mr. Goldstein nods knowingly, “It’s hard to move forward. When my wife passed it felt like we’d never celebrate the same, but the kids and I made new traditions. I’m sure you two will as well.”

Your hands freeze before shelving a book. He was right. True, your childhood hadn’t had many great holiday memories but hadn’t you made plenty of wonderful ones with friends? Why couldn’t you and Bucky do the same?

“Can I ask a favor?” You turn to him, breath held.

“Of course, zeeskeit.”

“Could I borrow your car?”

The morning of the 24th you make your last trip to the farmhouse.

Over the last few days you’d been bringing back ornaments, lights, a tree, only the good holiday movies, basically all the Christmastime necessities you could think of. Now you were finishing up with enough food and coffee to fuel a small army. Mr. Goldstein, being fully in on the plan, had even been pulling books he thought you’d both like so you had plenty of reading materials.

You only had a couple of hours to get everything perfect. If Bucky showed up to the shop before you got back he’d be suspicious.

“Get it all handled?” Mr. Goldstein asks with a grin when you rush back into the shop.

“Yup!” Your face hurts a little from smiling.

“Well,” he tosses the car keys you’d just given him back at you, “what’re you still doing here?”

“What?” You stare at the keys then him.

“It may snow. I don’t want you kids on that bike.” He smiles at you and you can’t help but fling your arms around this gentle soul.

He lets out a good-natured laugh, “Not like I’m going to need it.” With large warm hands, he pushes you back, “Go on. You two have a Happy Christmas.”

“Thank you!” You yell over your shoulder as you run out.

When you walk into the apartment a couple hours early Bucky jumps up from the couch, concern written all over him.

“What’s wrong?!”

“Nothing,” you say smiling. “It’s Christmas Eve. Mr. G kicked me out a little early.”

“Oh.” He forks his fingers through his hair, “I coulda come by and walked you back.”

Taking his face in your chilly hands you kiss him deeply. “No need.” Looking into his eyes always overwhelmed you, “I love you Bucky Barnes, all of you.”

That earned you a smile, “I love you too, sweetheart.”

“Now,” you playfully pat his ass before heading to the closet to grab his duffel, tossing it to him. “Pack a bag.”

Dumbstruck he stares at the bag for a moment, “What?”

“Pack. We’ve got somewhere to be.”

“We do?” He still doesn’t move, “Where?”

“It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you.” Grabbing your own bag you begin shoveling sweaters inside. Looking over your shoulder he still hasn’t moved.

“Bucky?” He looks out of sorts, “Babe, are you ok?”

“Yeah,” he looks down at the bag, “yeah. I just thought… Well, I thought we’d have Christmas tomorrow… maybe.”

“I thought you weren’t into the season?” It takes everything you’ve got to not spill the beans with your heart turning to mush in your chest.

“I…” He wrings the bag in his hands. “I don’t know.” Biting your lip to keep your mouth shut you rush over to him, wrapping him up as he drops the bag.

He cocks a crooked smile, “I got you something. Not… It’s not much but…”

You cover his face with kisses making him laugh in confusion. “What’s that about?” He plants a kiss of his own on your lips.

“I just like you is all.” You bend down grabbing his duffel, “Why don’t you just let me take the lead and put your gift in here, promise I won’t look.”

With the car loaded you head out of the city.

“The farmhouse?” He looks at the dark building, then back to you.

“Can I trust you to wait here until I come get you?” His eyes narrow a bit. “Please,” you coo sweetly.

“I’m scared to see what you’re up to woman,” he smiles. “Fine.” He crosses his arms a smile at the corners of his mouth as you bolt from the car.

First off, you methodically handle the traps and alarms then kick on the generator. You’d wanted to put lights on the outside of the house but decided it was best to not, a safe house wasn’t very safe if it was glowing like a beacon. Instead, you focused your efforts inside.

Colored lights joined the white ones Bucky had draped to light the space previously. Over the mantle, you’d draped evergreen garland and two stockings were laid on the kitchen table to be put in their place later. In the corner to the left of the fireplace, a decent tree waited patiently for decorations. The mattress, still in front of the fireplace, had been piled high with blankets and pillows you’d purchased and thrifted to make a warm nest for you both.

You turn on the space heaters and light the fire you’d laid earlier that day. Before heading out to get him you hit play on the old battery-operated boombox you’d brought. Perry Como’s “No Place Like Home for The Holidays” fills the silence. It wasn’t much, but you hoped it would make him happy.

Stepping out onto the porch you quickly close the door behind you. He sees you and gets out of the car.

“Want me to grab the bags?” He asks.

“Sure.” You shrug trying to seem casual. He trudges up the steps with three bags in hand. Once on the porch, he pauses, head cocked listening.

“Y/N… what’re you-” Not letting him finish you open the door, stepping inside, arms spread wide.

Bucky’s jaw hangs open as he crosses the threshold, the bags clattering to the floor. Without looking back he kicks the door closed, wide eyes taking in the space.

“Merry Christmas,” you say softly. Hardly seeing him move, he scoops you into his arms, lifting you from the floor kissing you thoroughly.

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you so much.”

Raking your fingers through his hair you study his expression. While his eyes glitter with tears his smile is warm enough to chase the lingering cold from the space. How was it possible to love someone this much?

You press your lips to his forehead, “Come on. That tree isn’t gonna decorate itself.”

Bucky lights the fire in the oven and you make cocoa with plenty of marshmallows and crushed peppermint before tackling the tree.

As you unwind the lights and plug them in, he pauses, seeming to be fascinated by the colored bulbs before he lets out a little laugh. He delicately lifts one of the large glass drops with a metal index finger and thumb.

“What is it?” You rest your hand on his forearm looking up at him.

“I… I remember the first time we had lights on the tree.”

“Really? Was it a big deal?”

Looking at your mildly confused expression he laughs, “I’m old as hell, remember?” You roll your eyes. “But yeah, it was a big deal.” He pauses, eyes focused on the lights.

“Pa almost didn’t get ‘em but Ma really wanted them so he gave in. We thought it was somethin’ special. Steve and his Ma came. My Ma made gingerbread…” He trails off and you swallow the lump in your throat.

“You should write that down.” You reach out to take the lights from him.

“Yeah,” his voice cracks a bit handing them over.

He grabs the right notebook from his bag and you curl up beside him on the old couch, your heart feeling like that animation in the Grinch.

And Y/N’s heart grew three sizes that day, you think to yourself.

When he’s done he reaches over, pulling you into his chest, burying his nose in your hair.

“Tell me more about what Christmas was like for you… before.”

“I can tell you and decorate at the same time,” he kisses you briefly and tugs you from the couch.

He does. Bit by bit you decorate the tree, bit by bit he pulls pieces of himself back from the void. Each time he grasps something that he’d lost the decorating would pause so he could document it. After almost two hours everything is done but the star.

“I feel like you should do the honors, doll.” Reverently he hands you the slightly tacky thrift store star.

“Why, you can reach it easily?”

“Like you can’t?” He cocks a brow, smiling.

“Point.” You take the star and rise from the floor, coaxing your body horizontal so you can get the best angle on securing the tinsel covered thing to the treetop. Once it’s done you sink back down. Before your feet touch the ground he pulls your back to his chest, nuzzling your neck.

“My very own Christmas angel. How lucky am I?”

You laugh, tossing your head back to kiss his cheek, “Don’t know that I’ve ever been called an angel in my life.”

Sighing contentedly you look at the tree. “That’s a damn fine tree.”

“Almost.” He releases you and digs in his bag, pulling out two nicely wrapped gifts and setting them under the tree. “That’s better.”

“Two?! Bucky…”

“Don’t give me too much credit, they go together.”

Narrowing your eyes at him you send your power out to nab the gift you had for him. His wrapping job puts yours to shame.

“Y/N… didn’t you do enough?” He gestures around.

“Hey, all of this is mutually beneficial.” He shakes his head with a smile. “Besides, it’s small.”

“So,” he asks slipping his hand in yours as you both take in your handy work, “were you a Christmas presents in the morning or on Christmas Eve type?” Your joy falters for a moment, not wanting to make things awkward for him but not wanting to lie either.

“Well, umm…” You shift uncomfortably, “If we did presents, it just depended on my mom’s mood or what her boyfriend wanted.” Truthfully, most Christmases growing up didn’t involve presents. Those were for good kids.

“But Nix and I would do presents on Christmas morning.” A smile rises to your face even though your heart aches.

“One year we had our close friends stay the night Christmas Eve. He and I dressed up like a mom and dad from the ’50s and bought a ton of terrible thrift store toys for like $15, wrapped ‘em, and put them under the tree then woke up the ‘kids.’” You laugh at the ridiculousness, “They had no idea what was going on but still played along. We had the best time.” The lights of the tree blur a little from the tears in your eyes.

“We’ll do them in the morning then.” When you look up at him his expression is tender and understanding. You nuzzle into his chest, breathing in his spicy smell.

The two of you spend the rest of the evening and night eating junk, sharing stories, and getting him caught up on some of the necessary Christmas films from the last decade. Unsurprisingly, he loves “It’s a Wonderful Life” but you have to admit you didn’t expect him to like the classic animated ones like “Rudolph” but he does.

Christmas morning dawns with the smell of coffee and the warm comfort of his arms.

“Ready?” Bucky is practically bouncing with excitement as he passes you your gift.

“Yup!”

“One.” His metal finger glints in the firelight. “Two. Three.” On that mark, you both tear into your presents.

Tears sting your eyes as you stare down at a large sketch pad and a set of art supplies.

“I saw your sketches at the shop. Thought you’d like something to really work with.”

“It’s perfect, Bucky. Thank you.”

He opens the front of the composition book, the first of three, that has ‘Love’ written on the front. His eyes scan the first page, written in your hand, and turns his own tear-filled eyes on you.

On the first few pages of that one, you’d written out a highlight reel of your story up until now. Not just the events but the way he made you feel, the little things that meant the world to you. The rest was blank for him to fill. The one beneath it was titled ‘Present’ and the third ‘Future.’

“You spend a lot of time looking back. But… I thought you may want a place for-”

“Us,” he says with a smile.

“I was going to say happiness, but that works.”

“Same thing.” He pulls you to you for a kiss. “I love you, so much, doll.” He tastes like home, “So much.”

Tags:

@bluegirlusa1 @l0kisbitch @tazzi-baby @disagreetoagree @woodyandbuzz20-01 @mooniightbucky @saundrasays @breezy1415 @alyssaj23 @mywinterwolf @wonderlandmind4 @fairislesheets @anamcg317 @buckaroo-barnes @jazztherebel @peachthatdrinkslemonade @regulusirius @auskitty @babyimp1967 @katecolleen @handplucked @stevehesaidabadlanguageword @darkdragonphoenix @issanitydead @thestorydetective @buckysstar @wintersoldierswhore @greyeyedsmile14 @watchoutforfrostbite @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @jewelofwinter @siriuslycloudy2 @hardygal69 @jdoenson @gamorazenn @wildmoonflower @cutie1365

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky feels #christmas #fluff #yeah i know it's october

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buckybarnesbingo · 4 years ago

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BBB Week 17 Roundup! This week includes, amongst the awesomeness, the Round Robin fic we did for the BBB Discord Party!

Congratulations to Faustess, Raz, and Peach, who each won a token (fabulous art by Raz!) in the drawing for who attended the party.

Reminder that our late signups are OPEN, and we will be accepting badge claims until August 1st.

Now go give these participants some love!

Title: End Of All Days - Chapter 25: Epilogue Collaborator: Minka Link: AO3 Square Filled: B5 – Mercenary Ship: Stucky Rating: Mature Major Tags: Descriptive violence Summary: Captain Steve Rogers had thought his military days were behind him, left in the bloody nightmare that was Saigon. Retired and working as a History Professor, the last thing he expected was to get caught up in a cataclysmic Slavic prophesy foreshadowing the end of the known world. With Cold War tensions running high, Steve finds himself in need of a guide and translator to get him behind the Iron Curtain and into the isolated snowdrifts of Siberia. It’s deep in the heart of Bucharest’s resistance fighters that Steve finds the ideal candidate, but swaying the enigmatic ex-operative known as The Winter Soldier proves to be complicated. Trust is hard-won, especially in the world of espionage, and with a KGB death squad nipping at his heels, the Soldier has countless reasons to stay presumably dead. As the lines between right, wrong and the supernatural begin to blur, Steve is forced to reconsider everything he’s ever believed, right from the sanctity of his own country to the very foundations of creation itself. Word Count: 116,780

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Title: Friday night and the lights are low - Chapter 7: Bucky/Loki Collaborator: HeyBoy Link: AO3 Square Filled: ? Ship: Bucky/Loki Rating: Teen Major Tags: art Summary: Bucky is a vet, recently back home and finally healed from his injury. In an effort to blow off some steam and meet new people, he hits the club every weekend. It turns out that this particular nightclub is also a favorite hangout for some local superheroes. Word Count: 1408

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Title: Your Wrists Collaborator: grimeysociety Link: AO3 Square Filled: B1 - Begging Ship: Bucky/Darcy Rating: Explicit Major Tags: PWP, Handcuffs, Rough Sex, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones Summary: In the middle of moving Bucky into her apartment, Darcy finds his handcuffs in his bedroom drawer. Word Count: 2594

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Title: Dragons of Brooklyn - Chapter 1 Collaborator: crazycatt71 Link: AO3 Square Filled: B1- shapeshifters Ship: Stuckony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content Summary: Steve & Bucky are the Alpha mob bosses of the Dragons of Brooklyn. Tony is their Omega and secret genius partner who runs the business lots of sex, some possessive behavior, and a little violence. In this chapter, dragon sex in the sky and teasing their Omega Word Count:

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Title: The Other Earth Collaborator: fightingforcreativity Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K5 - Great Depression Ship: WinterIronWidow Rating: Mature Major Tags: Amnesia, persumed dead, Family, mystical creatures, slight crack (later), bakery Au elements, mention of alcohol abuse Summary: Bucky had a cat, had a job at a local bakery and some odd jobs here and there. At night, he would look in the sky, trying to figure out the constellations, seeing the stars differently than he faintly remembered. At the same time on one of those stars far away, a star named Earth, Tony Stark held his baby boy, whispering, “One day, you’ll know you’re the world.[…]”(will be updated when I do more for this) Word Count: 368

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Title: Club Can’t Even Handle Me - Chapter 1 Collaborator: tisfan, 27dragons Link: AO3 Squares Filled: 27dragons - K3: Undercover in a Gay Bar tisfan - C3: free space Ship: WinterIron Rating: Mature Major Tags: undercover, gay bar, dancing, flirting, sex, rushed sex, anal sex, semi-public sex, getting together Summary: The Avengers have gone undercover to find a target who’s been frequenting clubs and bars. It’s probably just a coincidence that Bucky and Tony have been assigned to cover this bar, but that doesn’t make it any easier for Bucky to watch Tony flirting his way across the dance floor. Word Count: 1880

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Title: Club Can’t Even Handle Me - Chapter 2 Collaborator: 27dragons, tisfan Link: AO3 Squares Filled: 27dragons - K5: Kink - Rushed Sex tisfan - B3: Kink - Harder Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: undercover, gay bar, dancing, flirting, sex, rushed sex, anal sex, semi-public sex, getting together Summary: The Avengers have gone undercover to find a target who’s been frequenting clubs and bars. It’s probably just a coincidence that Bucky and Tony have been assigned to cover this bar, but that doesn’t make it any easier for Bucky to watch Tony flirting his way across the dance floor. Word Count: 3975

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Title: Somebody's been sleeping in MY bed Collaborator: LBibliophile Link: AO3 Squares Filled: B1 - Bed sharing [ficlet - 259 words] Y5 - Bodysharing [image edit] Ship: Bucky & Sam Rating: Gen Major Tags: bodyswap Summary: First he notices that the temperature is wrong. Then he notices that the bed is wrong. Then, he notices that the problem is actually something rather more fundamental. Word Count: 256

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Title: For All the Days I Shall Live Collaborator: tisfan Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C2 - Writing Style: Dialogue Only Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: none Summary: Tony is tired of waiting. Bucky doesn’t have any objections. The rest of the Avengers… might. Word Count: 431

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Title: A Chance Encounter Collaborator: pherryt Link: AO3 Square Filled: B5 - Tell Me Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Gen Major Tags: Post Winter Soldier, Canon Divergent Summary: Clint's on a vacation against his will. Alone. What could go wrong? Word Count: 7259

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Title: It's That Easy Collaborator: sarahbenial Link: AO3 Square Filled: B2 - Flowers Ship: Bucky/Darcy Rating: Mature Major Tags: Sexual content, Canon-typical violence, dissociation, suicidal thoughts Summary: Bucky's been seeing Darcy, secretly, for seven months. Unbeknownst to him, she's been holding onto a secret of her own. Traumatic events lead to the truth being revealed sooner than she'd intended. Word Count: 1721

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Title: BBB Discord Party Round Robin Collaborators: Rebelmeg, Fightingforcreativity, Ladydarkphoenix, Psychiccatpanda, Dreaminglypeach, Ibelieveinturtles, Liquidlightz, Menatiera Link: AO3 Squares Filled: Rebelmeg: Y2 - tech support LiquidLightz (LLightz): B3 - spa day Menatiera: U4 - hot water Dreaminglypeach: B1 - sharing body heat Ladydarkphoenix: U5 - “Don’t touch him!” Fightingforcreativity: B4 - Collateral Damage Ibelieveinturtles: K2 - Whiplash Ship: Stucky, hinted Stony or Stuckony, Pepperony, pre-FrostIron /FrostPepperony Rating: Teen Major Tags: round robin fic, dragon Steve, animal transformation, Loki shenanigans, cats, multiple ships, hijinks and shenanigans Summary: To say that Bucky had been surprised when a FREAKING DRAGON showed up at the summer BBQ at his beach house would be an understatement. How should the ex assassin have anticipated a dragon, who seemed to have followed his cat to the BBQ? It didn’t seem to be dangerous as of yet seeing as the two were happily sharing potato salad. When Tony showed up late, he nudged Bucky, “Hey Buckaroo - I brought - WHOA! I didn’t know you had a… cat.” Sure, it’s the cat that surprises you, Bucky thought, but Tony was still talking a mile a minute around the cookie in his mouth, “So, anyway, I brought that- fuck, is he your window cleaner, he’s gorgeous!” “Window cleaning is just one of the many services I offer,” the dragon said swinging it’s head around to stare unblinking at Tony. Bucky jolts back and stares at the dragon as he recognises the sound of that voice, then quickly pulls his phone out to text Steve… “where exactly are you right now?” Steve doesn’t answer his phone, obviously, but a telltale notification sound pings from somewhere inside the dragon’s belly, audible through the slightly open mouth of the creature, and Bucky has to rub the base of his nose, muttering, “of fucking course you do this reveal to me after we’ve been sharing a bed for weeks.” Word Count: 2330

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Title: Soft Collaborator: alwaysabrighterdarkness Link: AO3 Square Filled: U2 - Touch Starvation Ship: Stucky Rating: Teen Major Tags: Winter, Cold Weather, Touch-Starved, Cuddling Summary: It hadn’t been long after he had been recovered from the Artic that Steve had developed a deep, aching craving for things that were soft and warm or, preferably, both. For a man who was born and then built for fighting, to be able to withstand so much of the world’s harshness, maybe that shouldn’t have come as so much of a surprise. Word Count: 3352

#buckybarnesbingo2020 #bbb2020 #bbb weekly roundup #week 17 roundup

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k00248649 · 5 years ago

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List of some of my favourite sculptures and the sculptors behind them

Sasha Vinci is a multimedia artist from Sicily. These images are from his 2014 installation, ‘ Memento Flori’. In this installation, Vinci focused on creating an “intimate memory of being, to reach a collection vision and reveal the hardships, the illnesses, the social contradictions of the contemporary world.” He does this by creating a imagery that is at one end chilling, to a sweet at the other end, but still maintaining the idea of things that are old that have served their purpose, now blooming back to life, like in the image with the chair covered in flowers, worn out shoes filled with flowers and an old broken tv. The mediums in these pieces were wire, wooden chairs, clothe, old clothes, wax, flowers, shoes and chairs.

Darius Hulea is a Romanian sculptor, who has a twist with the term sculpture. He likes to think of his wire and steel plated sculptures as drawings. He said “I hope that people will understand that I do nothing but draw in a new way, in a durable material of the past. I can then explore and research, as an artist, mythical, Renaissance, and modern thinking by finding three-dimensional examples that describe us now in a history of the past ”, and you can see a type of illustration in his series of portraits of many iconic people in history such as Presidents of America, Queen Marie and philosopher Mircea Eliade. His work is being held at The Renaissance Art Gallery in Bucharest, Romania.

This piece is called ‘ Three Minus One’ by Californian Sculptor Susan Erikson Hawkins. Her figurative sculptures in poly chrome plaster, bronze, terracotta, and steel evoke a sense of turbulent motion, inner conflict and mass. This piece was done in 2005, they are 6.7 inches in height and is definitely more of a normal, modern idea of sculpture but still carries its weight nonetheless. They have been featured in many of California’s Galleries and Exhibitions.

This piece is called ‘No Big Deal’ and is a part of the ‘Red Memory’ collection by Chinese sculptor Chen Wenling. The medium used for his pieces are bronze and then he covers his pieces in red paint. I love this piece because the idea of it was to evoke the child within us and bring out the nostalgia of our childhoods. When we were children we had such a carefree attitude about the world, we weren't afraid of being free and had no shame.

This piece is done by Philip Hitchcock. It is called ‘Fallen Angel’. The mediums used for this piece are life-size cast gypsum torso, steel wings, African elk horns. The sculptors work is primarily composed of body casts, this came even more apparent when he became a personal trainer and started using his own body for his work. The body casts sculpts can range to many themes from erotic to fantasy. I love this piece because of the clear definition Hitchcock was able to get from his cast and as well, the shape of the steel wings.

#sashavinci #dariushulea #SusanEriksonHawkins #ChenWenling #PhilipHitchcock #Memento Flor #Three minus one #Red Memories #Fallen Angel

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pseudonymfox · 6 years ago

Text

Abort Mission (14)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and your boyfriend have powers, now he is dead and you are expecting a baby. Hydra is interested in the child so they send the Winter Soldier. What happens if Bucky unexpectedly falls for you…

This Part: Bucky and you are trying to talk this out while the future seems a bit more interesting afterwards...

Warnings: fluff, angst abit, making out?

A/N: In case someone is confused this is now along some other parts, after this one, all in the time between Civil war and infintiy war which is included in this series (scared to write this) and Endgame (even more scared) but later so calm down. I am not over endgame yet anyway

Slowly waking up and remembering what happened last night and you wanted to right away just curl further into your blankets and pillows to sleep a bit more but then you noticed you didn’t heard Archer talking to mostly himself or playing with your hair how he liked to sometimes do in the morning, sadly he wasn’t a long sleeper like you are. Rising your head from under the pillow you looked both sides realising that Archer is nowhere in sight making you skip a heartbeat. It was a big bed and you secured the floor around every night with the decorative pillows just in case he would actually fall off or try to do come down but he wasn’t in the room at all. Dressing quickly you walked outside your room and looked both side of the hallway before you heard his giggle and Bucky’s laugh coming from the kitchen.

“Good Morning” you smiled a bit at the sight of them attempting to make breakfast.

“Morning. We made breakfast if you’re hungry?” his cheerful smile and laugh disappeared a bit as he drew his attention back to Archer who sat on the counter.

“Can you show mommy what you showed me Archer?” you heard them whisper before you looked expecting to your little boy, who still smiled widely up to him and nodded, taking an empty mug in his hands.

“I’m mommy. I need coffee...Always tired” he imitated you and laugh loudly out. As you looked at him in surprise and went to tickle him.

“You are really funny aren’t you?” you chuckled and got distracted as your phone rang, leaving the room for a bit.

“Hey Steve. You’re having breakfast with us today?” you asked right away as you took the call, something he also used to do over the year.

“No not today. Not in Wakanda right now sorry. Just wanted to call to let you know.”he informed you

“Oh ok then. Take care Steve” you sighed out, thinking that it’s going to be awkward now without him. There wasn’t much that you wanted to talk about with Bucky, and you feared that it would end up in a fight anyways and that’s something you wanted to avoid in front of Archer.

“Everything alright with..Bucky?” he asked.

“No not really. It’s just weird and different now..I don’t really know.” you told him looking while so back to see that they set up the table already, Bucky also looking at you.

“Sorry (Y/N) but you will figure that out..right?” he asked. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out so Steve continued. “-I mean. You do still love him. Otherwise you would have left already. I don’t want to say that running away is your thing but you stayed in Wakanda, you visited him and you were there a few hours before he woke up at his side right? Don’t worry to much (Y/N). Try to talk it out”he called you out and assured you again that it’s going to be just fine before hanging up.

You didn’t had much to say anyways after that and went back to the table sitting down and mumbling a quick sorry. The breakfast went on, mostly in awkward silence between the two of you. Afterwards you went to clean the dishes but he refused and did them himself, Archer played a bit while you walked up to him. You had to talk again at some point.

“You don’t have to try to make it up by every chance you get now alright? I mean it’s nice but I am just saying that you don’t have to do it.” you crossed your arms by his side and tried your best to explain it in a normal tone.

“They are just the dishes” he smirked shortly towards you.“-and making the breakfast” you continued.

“Yeah ok. I am still gonna do it tomorrow again” he mumbled the rest and you stayed silent for a bit, you already started with thinking that you were to harsh with the arguments from yesterday night and those damned puppy eyes weren’t helping. What Steve has told you earlier still in your ear like a song lyric you won’t get out of your head for the rest of the day.

Later the same day you still hung out in the apartment but you dug around in a fex boxes as you looked for something that came to your mind. Joining Bucky on the couch you handed him the couple of journals that you had stored since Steve brought you most of the stuff from Bucharest back.

“My journal. Where did you get that from?” he quirked up his eyebrows and went to reach for it, but not opening yet.

“Yeah Steve found it along some other stuff in our old apartment and brought it back here...You don’t want it back?” you looked at him curious as he just looked at it for a while like he didn’t know what to do with it.

“Did you read it?” he asked and turned to you.

“No. Why should I? That is personal.”you quickly shook your head. Obviously you hadn’t, the thought was there some times but you never actually did it.

“Than take it. Read all of them if you want to” Bucky laid them back into your hands and went to read his book that he had at the moment.

“What do you mean? They are yours.” confused you looked between him and the few books that laid there. It felt like he just gave you his most private thing he belonged, the one thing that you thought you won’t ever take a look it or anyone at all.

“I want you to read them but especially this one” he pointed at the first one and you just nodded and went to lay them on your nightstand for later in case he would change his mind or something. Could be a joke or a test you almost thought.

Days flew by and after you had a small walk around the city and you found yourself ready for the night after dinner and a movie,finally giving it a try to read his journals.

“You can have by the way the guest bedroom, must be way comfortable than the couch” you told him as you walked slowly back into the living room from Archer, who wanted to be a big boy today and sleep in his own room.

“Why did I sleep on the couch in the first place?” he asked and went to grab the blankets and pillows from the couch to take them with him.

“I don’t know...maybe you deserved it at this point” you said whispering the last bit, which Bucky heard anyways. Both of you saying Good Night and then going different ways. For you it was normal to just go to your room but for him it felt weird not to share the bed with you.

Laying down in your bed with the lamp still on, cuddled in your blanket you reached for the first book that Bucky was talking about and opened it starting to read the first pages, full of mostly just the stuff you were talking about sometimes. From this what seemed to be still more like just notes and drawings got more into longer texts and photos sticking between a few pages.

“Once I read in a article: Where do you think you are in ten years and I look over to you, walking up and down cause the baby has been kicking all day and night and think that you are it. We are for sure both not perfect but that’s what I love about you. Your silly laugh sometimes, your bright eyes, your kindness, all the things made me become more and more myself again.Ten years from now, make sure you can say that you chose the you didn’t settle for. These years are not long if you don’t think about it, you’ll blink and then another year has gone by. In case anything happens future-Bucky and you somehow get to read this again than I hope you settled for her, (Y/N) wasn’t something you settled for, she is nothing you deserve and you should make sure that you work hard to make it worth it. Don’t lose her, don’t do anything stupid, don’t screw this up. She is the one you didn’t think you would ever get... ”

“...I don’t want to forget her silly laugh or admiring bright eyes. I couldn’t forgive myself if I would let it ever happen to let her walk away. It’s hard enough if she leaves me alone for just a few minutes. I don’t know who that all happened but after all these years I don’t who I should thank that I deserve to have something so pure and perfect like this women than I will just make sure to show it her in every way there is...”

“...Nobody, not even I have really figured out what is really going on in my mind but somehow she understands how I’ve been feeling and what I go through by just being lost in my thoughts. She will know what to do right away and how to change that. I realised just how much I really need her and she won’t probably ever realise it...“

All phrases like that, sometimes small and sometimes even pages long were filling the book up. Small things you didn’t even notice about yourself stood in there and he would wrote about wanting to marry you or saying that he loves you before you even gave birth to Archer. Not even realising you are crying you shut the book and laid it besides you on the nightstand and got out of bed, seeing on your nightstand that you literally read the whole night this one journal, completely dedicated to you. It was so sappy and it was almost hard to believe that everything on these pages came from Bucky.

You tiptoed slowly towards Bucky’s room, hoping somehow he was still awake. The door crept open with your touch and you made it as quietly in the dark room, his bed empty and you furrowed your brows. Where could he be at this time. Back out in the hallway you saw his sleeping form curled up on the couch. Stepping forward you sat on the side and swept a few strands of hair that fell onto his face out of the way. He stirred and grumbled shortly making you grin slightly. Taking his hands in yours you decided to wake him up before more thoughts would eat you up from the inside. You missed him and you can’t deny it anymore.

“Bucky” you softly spoke, squeezing his hands to make him notice you. After a few more attempts he opened his eyes slight, squinting at you before realising what is going on.

“(Y/N)?! What’s wrong? What did I do?”he looked down to your hands and tensed up a bit, fearing that he had a nightmare or worse; that he fell back into old habits.

“Nothing” you simply said and leaned down to kiss him. Lips perfectly fitting over yours and as he finally kissed you back he pulled you fully on top of him. His tongue slipping past your lips to make it last as long as your breaths would hold. Holding your face in his hands while brushing your hair back. Both of you melted together in this passion filled kiss that without having to say much, it spoke out what you needed and wanted. As his hand started to roam the skin beneath your shirt you had to broke away to catch air. Opening your eyes you saw his blue ones staring right back at you.

“Ok what did I do cause the last thing I remember was that I didn’t deserve this” he chuckled but you stayed rather serious.

“You do. I read the journal...Sorry I was being so selfish, I - I just really miss you.” you bumped your nose with him wanting to kiss him again but he took your face in his hands again to make you look right at him.

“Don’t say sorry (Y/N). I was being the asshole and I shouldn’t have go before talking to you, it won’t happen again. I won’t go anywhere again” he said honestly, tearing up a bit.

“I forgive you. I hope you do too” you gave him a short peck before he whispered back.

“I already did” Turning you over on the couch so he was on top, just with one arm to hold his weight not wanting to crush you. Working fast on each other clothes he kissed you everywhere he could reach and skin was exposed. A warm tingly feeling making you both feel like finally home.

The whole night filled with making up, kisses and soft moans as you never wanted to leave this couch again. Neither of the both of you got much more sleep afterwards and decided to get ready for the day after you cuddled before falling asleep in each other arms again. Finally.

One day after a refreshing hot shower with Bucky later you walked into Archers room to dress him. He was of course already up and out of his bed cause apparently he is in an age where he would try to climb up everything that was in his way.

"Archer. What did I say about climbing out of your bed on your own?" You raised your brows at him and sat down besides him.

"No climbing" you repeated your words as he refused to answer. And as quick as that he was in a bad mood.

"What do we do now?"Bucky asked at the breakfast table as everyone just munched on their pancakes happily, besides him who had his head stuck in the clouds. Overthinking the future and what might be.

"I don't know. We could go to the lake?" You suggested but he just sighed out, giving up on the pancakes.

"No I am mean like in general. Do you want to stay here or not?" Bucky had trouble choosing the right words as you turned your attention now fully on him.

"You don't like it here?" You asked suspicious now.

"No. Not exactly...I mean I love it in Wakanda but not here in this apartment...like not; God why is that so hard? I was just thinking we could maybe look for something further away from the city" he laughed nervously and stuttered like a schoolboy. As he started with that sentence you almost catched a heart attack thinking that he didn't like this with you anymore.

"Choose your words wisely next time buddy" you laughed putting a hand over your heart as a joke.

“Sorry, sorry. Didn’t meant to scare you and no offense to your apartment but I don’t want to live...here” at this point he just gave up and leaned onto the table, hiding his face in his hands.

“Is daddy ok?” Archer whispered to you and you nodded your head before reaching across the table to him.

“It’s alright. I don’t like here either. What were you thinking exactly?” you assured him to let him rise his head again.

“Just wanted to talk with you first about it..uhm- maybe build a house?” he offered suddenly.

“You want to build a house?”you asked surprised, not that you thought it was a stupid idea but you had no idea about building a house and you didn’t really think that he had much of an idea about it either. Either way it would cost a lot of money too.

“You don’t think I can handle this doll?” he teased you smirking.

“No I mean it’s a house and it’s probably expensive as hell and we had to ask for permission...y’know since we kinda live here for free already and all?” you counted multiple more reasons why this maybe couldn’t work out while you started to clean the table, letting Archer play on the ground for a bit while you had a “grown up” talk.

“Don’t be mad but I already asked...” he mumbled and the dishes in your hand slipped out of your hands back into the water.

“When?” you laughed out, turning back to him.

“After I woke up from cryo..” Bucky said with this innocent look on his face but also like he was waiting for the explosion.

“So right after you woke up..your first thought was to build a house here for us?”

“Yes so what do you think?”You stood there speechless and just had nothing else to say then: “I love it�� you grinned excitedly at Bucky who was the standing there now.

“Really? You’re not upset or anything?”

“Nope. Let’s do it” you shrugged with your shoulders and the widest grin on your face.Both of you now standing there in the kitchen before he stepped forward and sealed the deal with a kiss.

Several months later the small house was done.

It was further away outside of Wakanda near a field surrounded by a couple of trees, it was the perfect size for your little family and looked like a modern log house. You loved everything about it the second you moved in there. Bucky decided to also once the house was done to live without the metal arm, if he was comfortable with it and could handle this than you were happy too. He took his time for the both of you now and retired from fighting. Instead he helped on a couple of farms that are nearby to at least not sit around the whole day, Shuri also came by every once in a while to check on things. Actually a lot people did. Steve would often sleepover and have dinner, Wanda more oftenly disappeared to spend her time with Vision traveling the world and if she would visit than they would bring gifts from different places every time, Nat and Sam were still fighting and doing god knows what alongside their Captain of course. For now it seemed like you had settled down and you would take in every day as much as you could cause well you never know.

“Mommy!! Uncle Steve is back!!” Archer called for you who sat at the window waving excitedly before rushing off to the door, with you following.

“Steve..wow. That beard suits you” you chuckled as he came up the stairs greeting the two of you. He hasn’t been visiting for a couple of week but you didn’t think it was that long.

“Yeah somethin’ else right?. Hey Buddy how are you doing?” he smiled and ruffled his hair before looking back up with a rather serious look.

“What is it, should I get Bucky he isn’t far away? Is the rest ok?” you asked and looked past him worried but nope it was just him. “No don’t worry, everyone is fine. Can we maybe sit down?” he sighed heavily and you nodded, it made you anxious seeing him like this. So you set down on the front porch with Ice tea and cookies.

“So what is going on? It better be something good” you joked, rubbing your hands together nervously.

“It is about your parents, your biological parents. We found them”

Next Part coming soon

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