#granted steve and sam could go either way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vecnasrevengerp · 2 years ago

Text

welcome home EDDIE MUNSON (sam claflin fc)

hope you brought your tissues with you! be sure to check in at home or to your hotel and don’t forget to always look over your shoulder. this is hawkins, after all.

BASICS

[SAM CLAFLIN, CISMALE, HE/HIM] When’s the last time anyone heard anything about [EDDIE MUNSON]? Old friends remember them as [WITTY & ENGAGING ] but also [OVERLY EMOTIVE & EASILY AGITATED], no wonder they’re still known as [THE FREAK] around town. Today, in 2006, they are [38] and some people say they remind them of [ the smell of cheap weed and even cheaper cologne; downsizing your passions to fit into an adapted version of your dreams; bite marks on pencils and an abundance of notebooks filled with lyrics that you didn’t have it within yourself to finish; a hopeless inability to adapt. ] [soph, 21, she/her, cet].

BIOGRAPHY

tw: death metnion / injuries

Spring break 1986 concluded with a bang. quite literally. Or at least, to Eddie Munson personally, something aking to, well, the biggest bang ever imaginable. A cataclysmic event - his own death. How he had managed to narrowly avoid that fate, Eddie still doesn’t know. what he does know is that somehow, by the grace of whatever gods might loom and linger out there, he’d been granted another shot at breathing.

As fun as breathing and not-being-dead was, it quickly turned out that Hawkins, Indiana wasn’t the best place for the recently traumatized to recover. Someone - Steve, he suspected - must’ve dragged him out of the literal hell beneath Hawkins, because when he came to he’d found himself blinded by fluorescent overhead lighting, hooked up to all sorts of machines and, not to forget, chained to the fucking hospital bed.

Despite the less than ideal circumstances of his recovery, Eddie found some solace in the fact that Hopper, although trying to manage and cope with his own losses, did his best to shield him from the press. The reporters outside the hospital were eventually persuaded to leave, thanks to Hopper’s efforts (well-timed threats). Some shady government officials also paid a visit, and after the public’s demand for answers had dwindled, they’d released a statement, clearing Eddie’s name. Apparently, they’d felt guilty enough to throw in a new trailer for him and Wayne, too, so they could have at least some sort of safe haven to retreat to.

Still weak, but with sufficiently healed wounds, Eddie Munson was discharged and suddenly a free man. But make no mistake - free on paper only. Because when he left the hospital, he was suddenly brutally confronted with the fact that, to the average Hawkins resident, he was stil 1) the local drug dealing town freak, 2) the leader of a satan worshipping cult and 3) a fucking murderer. In that order. And so the dirty looks continued to burn into his back, the muttered insults followed him in passing, and nothing, I repeat, nothing had changed. Maybe it was the all the pent up rage, maybe something just .. .snapped but either way, Eddie powered through and managed to finally graduate on his third try of senior year. He did as promised: walked the stage, flipped off the principal. Only the running like hell part, that would have to wait until everything had properly healed.

The months went by in a blur. When El and Will’s double funeral rolled around, when his gaze followed as the caskets were lowered to the ground, it was .. for lack of better words a pivotal moment for him. There was nothing left for him here, was there? His uncle would manage fine on his own, especially since he’d been going on regular coffee dates with that sweet librarian. Eddie was more of a nuisance to him, he was sure. And whatever that weird tension between him and Steve had been, left unresolved post-Vecna and awkwardly fizzling out ever since, it’s just … not enough to keep him in Hawkins. So it’s really an easy decision. A week later Eddie’s van, packed with all the Corroded Coffin equipment, leaves Hawkins, without leaving a note, without saying goodbye, and takes the highway to Chicago.

Eddie Munson was fully aware that he wasn’t going to become a success story overnight, but he was determined to make it happen. Still haunted by his past traumas, he channeled his energy into his writing, playing guitar, and even experimenting with singing. Taking up odd jobs here and there, dabbling in some dealing if need be, to pay rent and put food on the table. The paying rent part got much easer, however, when a familiar face joined him in Chicago: One Robin Buckley.

Robin brought a sort of light and warmth, a breezy carelessnes, a lust for life previously unimaginable, back into his life. His twenties with Robin in Chicago were the best, it seemed the early nineties were made for them. Going out to bars and clubs where Eddie didn’t need to but a bandana in his back pocket for people to know he was interested in men, playing the odd gig here and there, with moderate success in the local scene. Countless hours spent listening to music as they smoked and chatted away into the night. Life was fucking good, man!

Until, for whatever reason, one foggy morning, reality harshly set in. Maybe his frontal lobe had finally finished developing, but Eddie had untangled himself from the arms of last night’s conquest to get up and reevaluate every choice he’d made in his life. How he was working two jobs, as a mechanic and at some gay club’s coatcheck, while claiming he was doing music ‘full time’ and that 'they were gonna make it big, the world just needed to be ready for them!’ The year was 1996. Eddie was pushing thirty. Corroded Coffin was still playing venues akin to the Hideout. If anything, the world had been ready for metal, like, eight years ago. If anything, the world was getting tired of their sound, and everything was moving into the direction of grunge-y tones. And, if anything, Eddie Munson was getting fucking tired of getting his hard work discarded because ’metal’s just not the vibe anymore, man’. Eddie had promised himself to stay true to his dreams, his passions, the plans he’d made for himself. But so many promises made to him had been carelessly broken. It seemed only fitting that he would break his own, too. So, Eddie got up and proposed a new sound. Most of Corroded Coffin dipped immediately, as to be expected, and so he got to work finding a new band. With him as lead guitar and, for the first time, supporting vocals, he joined a newly formed grunge/alternative rock band called ’Bleach & Burn’, performing music inspired by Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Type O Negative and the like. Not his usual scene, but he could get down to the more harder rock sounds.

Bleach & Burn, to his surprise, generated moderate success and a cult-like following. Suddenly, Eddie found he was able to quit his coatcheck job, able to support himself with just the mechanics and his music. But it was only a matter of time before the world would evolve, move on, repeat the trend cycle and suddenly, just as they were about to sign their first recording contract, the label pulled out last minute with a word of advice: “People are sick of hard rock. Do something a little more … for the everyday crowd. Something for the radio. Trust me, people are gonna go wild if you go a little more tame.”

This marked a turning point, the make or break - Eddie Munson was a lot of things but he’d been determined not to be a sell-out, not to sacrifice his integrity for feeble attempts at fame and success. But now? Seeing his dream slip by his grasp, when he’d been so close? What the fuck was he supposed to do? And so, after much tossing and turning, Eddie Munson, lead guitarist and supporting vocalist of Blech & Burn, became lead guitarist and lead vocalist of Cornerstone. And so, in the year 2000, at the ripe age of 32, Eddie Munson became Chicago’s biggest sell-out. But, fucking hell, did it pay off!

Who knew sacrificing your sound and your dreams could be so lucrative! Their debut album, after reworking their harder sound into a more radio appropriate, alt-indie-rock beat and getting a second lead-vocalist in the talented Alice Phair, hit the shelves not four months after, somehow becoming an instant success. Chicago’s previously best kept secret spread through the nation like wildfire. Cornerstone played their first national tour in 2001, cruising through the country for a solid five months. And suddenly, Eddie was on stage every night in tight jeans and leather jackets while people screamed his lyrics back at him, feeling like a fucking rockstar. Scratch that, feeling a like a fucking rock god.

Suddenly, he had everything he thought he’d ever wanted and craved. The recognition he’d been waiting his entire life for. Life was fucking good, once again. - Or was it, really? He’d never aspired for international success, even surprised when his label had told him some little independent radio station in Finland had played their most recent single. But people, no matter how few, were hearing their music, all over the world. Again, suddenly, a flip seemed to switch, and Eddie pushed two sleeping groupies off him as he waddled to the front of the tour bus to watch the sunrise. He was living his fucking dream. People adored him. Eddie ’the freak’ Munson had turned into Eddie ’can you sign my tits?’ Munson, posters of his face adorning the walls of America’s alternative youth. But if he had everything he’d ever wanted then why was he so fucking miserable? Why did he cringe whenever he heard a song of theirs on the radio, even going as far as skipping the channel, unable to stand hearing it? He loved, lived and breathed music, but whatever sound they had taken on, he hated it. Hated having to pretend something he was not - he did that oftentimes enough when he’d pose with Alice for a staged PDA picture that could be printed in the tabloids. It wasn’t like he was hiding his sexuality by any means - his label had simply … ’kindly advised’ him to maintain an air of mystery around that subject of his personal life.

Truth was, Eddieyearned to go back to his roots, that early 80s metal sound, that had made him happier than every song on his last, what, three albums? He’d even gone to work writing some songs that fit that genre - but they’d never see the light of day. Only posthumously, if anything. Because he knew the second he’d pitch that idea to his bandmates, or god forbid the label, Cornerstone was good as done. How were they ever going to play another authentic show with the knowledge that their band’s lead fucking hated every minute of it? It was fucking ridiculous. And anyway, Eddie shouldn’t complain about what had been handed to him. He’d never even thought he’d make it this far. So really, he was in no place to complain. He should be fucking grateful.

He tries his best to be. Grateful. Goes on tour after tour, even if he’d rather stay home and never leave his room again, even if he’s fucking exhausted. Dutifully just nods and smiles whenever the label suggests another single, another show, another interview - it’s not even like they’re properly ‘famous’ Eddie thinks, but he doesn’t say anything, never does. Even when some so called ‘music journalist’ has recently in a review called them ‘a delightful mix of Nirvana, The Fratellis, Franz Ferdinand and recently emerged newcomers The Arcitc Monkeys’. He’s been told that it’s a smashing review. Eddie feels a lot like smashing that journalist’s face in.

Eddie’s just finished up a tour, and the past few months have catapulte him to the very brink of .. .something. A cord, maybe, that’s coiled all the way up, ready to snap at the next minor inconvenience. The idea of leaving the band is ever present at the back of his head. Leave Cornerstone to Alice, knowing she’d do an amazing job. Better than him, even, he’s sure. They’re not schedulded to play another show for a couple months, and so when Robin stumbles into his arms, showing him the envelope, it’s really a no-brainer. They’re going. Back to Hawkins.

Eddie hasn’t been back since ‘86. Wayne had always insisted to come to Chicago or visit him in Indianapolis whenever he’d play a show there. Eddie hasn’t been back since ‘86 and he hasn’t seen anyone from … back then since ‘86. Hasn’t been keeping in contact much, either. Still, Joyce Byers had been one of the sweetest souls to ever walk this earth, had shown him nothing but kindness the brief times he’d run into her. And some time in Hawkins, away from the bustling city life, away from the music and the shows and the whole fucking business - who knew, maybe a change of scenery would do him good. Eddie’s willing to try about anything to get a brief respite from the life he’s built for himself.

What Eddie left in the Time-Capsule:

1. His yearbook picture, complete with devil horns and mustache drawn on, like the jocks would always do. On the back it reads: FUCK. ALL. OF. YOU. !!!

2. A Hellfire shirt, complete with a set of DnD dice.

3. A perfectly rolled joint.

STATS

Athletics 1Burglary 2Contacts 3Crafts . 1Deceive 3Drive 2Empathy 3Fight 1Investigate 0Lore 2Medicine 2Navigation .1Notice 1Provoke 3Rapport 3Resourcefulness 2Stealth -1Will 1

EXTRAS

pinterest : https://pin.it/3mYihEW eddie’s mixtape : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7khzeAQVKhDiY9yuVDY7tU?si=bd309d1ac35f4561&pt=ccdedcdba1f0897e8bc33578f357a74c cornerstone’s setlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Lvqa6xD18CRlXDZRLQaBK?si=58f3ebca04d34886&pt=5a40126eb06de4e859b5e133f20ba4a4

#accepted #eddie

1 note · View note

jbbarnes · 10 months ago

Text

He hadn't wanted to take the apartment.

The last thing he had wanted after Steve had left and never come back was reminders. Bucky had had his fears when Steve had stepped up on that platform, and it felt like every single one had been confirmed. When he didn't appear, Bucky knew. He'd been left, again. Steve had finally realised what Bucky had always feared, that he wasn't enough, and had taken the chance to trade him in for the less broken model. The one he could rescue before HYDRA got their claws in too deep.

So, yeah, he hadn't wanted the apartment.

But his home in Wakanda had been destroyed in the original fight with Thanos and never rebuilt and despite Shuri's insistance, he knew he couldn't live in the city. And enough governments had become aware of his location that he couldn't just go back to hiding, not without consequences for the people who had shown him such kindness. So he'd gone home, put up with hours upon hours of interrogations, an ankle monitor he could break off easily but wouldn't snapped into place before they let him go. He had no money of his own, refusing to dip into the account Shuri had gifted him, and so his feet had taken him to the address Steve had told him about. It was as easy as finding the key hidden under a brick near the front door – God, Rogers, learn a new way of hiding this shit – and he was in, being assaulted by all the reminders of what he'd lost.

There was a spare room he could use, unable to bring himself to enter Steve's, even if he was gone. Even that proved too much, and he'd spent a lot of nights, before and after being granted his pardon, bedding down in the living room, the hard floor more comfortable than the mattress. He'd had the locks changed, tossing the brick in the trash, but he'd barely touched anything beyond that. It was like he was a ghost haunting the place, and wasn't that just poetic?

He tried, fuck did he try, but it was so hard. To drag himself out of the apartment more than a few times a week, all the healing he'd managed in Wakanda out the window. He felt just as raw as he had first stumbling from the cryochamber to the news they could remove the trigger words. But he couldn't stay in all day either, even as the sensation that Steve would walk in at any moment dissipated.

His anger over the shield, over John Walker, over trying to keep the Flag Smashers from hurting people, that gave him something to do. He didn't even care for the stupid hunk of metal that much, had hated seeing what being Cap had turned Steve into, but it felt like the last piece of him he'd had left. And so all of his grief and anger and loss and feelings of rejection got put on that same hunk of metal. He knew it had been unfair to take it out on Sam, and maybe if he had a therapist worth a damn – he'd done some reading, Bucky wasn't an idiot, he knew what Dr Raynor was doing – he might have been able to work through it without jumping back into the fight.

But he didn't and so he did jump back in, and seeing Sam finally take up the mantle settled at least one broken piece in his heart. He stayed to one side, letting Sam do his thing. The smile on his face felt like the first genuine one in months, and ain't that just fucking sad?

When everything was calming down, he found himself scanning the crowd, force of habit. For a split second, his heart jumped into his throat, his breathing hitched and he took an involuntary step towards–

No. It was just his overactive imagination. Seeing Sam with the shield, this whole thing, had just had him thinking about Steve again. It was a mantra he kept up as he said his goodnights and goodbyes and promised to text Sam about coming back down to Louisiana.

But the adrenaline was still high when he got back to the apartment, ready to crash for the next three days, and the stranger he'd seen in the crowd was stood outside his door. Before he could even think, the gun was in his hands.

"Who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

muse: Steve Rogers limit: 18+ only please, mutuals and non-mutuals set: post-Loki, TFATWS S1E6 open to: Canon MCU/Marvel muses, OCs or fandom crossovers welcome if we've plotted/interacted before (i.e., limited to people he would know, please. New connections welcome in my other Steve starter!) triggers: showers of bitterness over Endgame!Steve and the TVA, may progress to thunderstorms as the barometric angst increases

Steve had a lot of time to mull over his mistakes while he was with the Time Variance Authority. In hindsight, time travel was a mistake. His motivation was clear, but the attempt, he realized, was misguided. He couldn’t knowingly let Bucky be captured by Hydra, or leave Natasha at the nonexistent mercy of The Red Room, or let Thanos snap away half a universe if there was even half a chance he could stop those things from ever happening. Even knowing they were long shots didn’t change his mind. Steve had never been intimidated by long odds.

But as it turned out, the Time Variance Authority didn’t just let people meddle in timelines. It didn’t matter how good his intentions had been when he went back. The Avengers, apparently, were on thin ice with them already. It was always Steve's plan to return to his own time when he was finished. He had people who needed him there, and from what he understood, changing the past created new timelines rather than changing the future. (To be fair, he'd only understood a fraction of Scott, Bruce, and Tony's conversation on it. The mechanics of time travel were well above his paygrade.)

It had taken time to learn the place and its routines, time to figure out a plan. Steve always had a plan, and it didn’t involve sitting in jail for the rest of his life, being retconned from his own timeline, or playing along indefinitely with what was obviously a fascist organization. He'd gone along with Morbius's requests at first to buy himself some time to figure this place out, and every variant's life they destroyed added to the seething anger in him. He didn't know what the ultimate end goal of the place was, or why they considered it a sacred duty to protect the timeline, but Steve did know that people in power almost always thought they were doing good and that they rarely wanted to give it up.

The plan did, unfortunately, involve a time and space jumping god of mischief who also needed to escape. Long story short, Steve hadn't been sorry to help Loki tear the place down, and now he may or may not owe a favor to the trickster Asgardian. As far as he could tell, Steve landed in the same place as when he’d left, but it was immediately obvious that it wasn’t the same time. Nobody was there, for one thing, and the season had changed. He lowered his head and, quietly but with feeling, uttered a word he almost never said.

How much time had passed? If he was lucky, it was the same number of days that had passed while he was with the TVA, which would put him at around four months. He tried not to wince at the idea of leaving Bucky and the others wondering where he was in all that time and why he hadn’t returned. He hated to think what that had done to his friends on the heels of the Battle of Earth and its losses. He didn’t know yet that the TVA had strategies in place to keep anyone from even looking for him. Steve kept his head down on the walk home and tried not to draw attention to himself. He didn’t have keys or a wallet or a phone or even shoes, for that matter, so his apartment was his best idea. If it was even still his apartment.

The door was locked, the spare key not in its usual place, so after a quick, silent apology, he broke the lock and stepped inside with the hope that he wasn’t breaking into someone else’s home. It was a relief to see it was mostly as he’d left it, though it was clear someone had been there. He wondered if that person was Bucky. What he wanted more than anything right now was to talk to his best friend, to hear his voice and know he was fine. He briefly scoured the place for his phone and came up empty. He hadn’t had it on him when he went to return the stones, and it wasn’t where he’d left it. He dug out one of the burners from the emergency stuff and plugged it in to charge. Two years of being on the run and being friends with Natasha had left him slightly paranoid but prepared. He could disappear again if he had to, but with as hard as he’d worked to get back here, he hoped he didn’t have to.

Weariness insisted he sit down for a few minutes while he came up with a plan, so he grabbed a tablet off the desk and sank onto the couch to scroll through the recent news feed for information about what he’d missed. The date registered, roughly matching with what he’d expected, and sadness mingled with frustration and relief that it hadn’t been longer. He never wanted to be in another spaceship or another timeline, ever. Some lessons came harder to him than others, but he considered that one learned. The hard way, because apparently that was the only way he knew how to do it, but learned. He didn’t mean to fall asleep, and he jerked awake when the tablet pinged an alert to find that night had fallen. His head was clearer though, and he quickly scanned the update before rising to change his clothes. He pulled on a jacket and as an afterthought grabbed a baseball cap. He wasn’t planning to interfere, and he didn’t want to be noticed. Not tonight when all eyes should be on Captain America.

He did want to be there to see it though. He tucked the phone into his pocket and headed further into the city. There were already crowds of people forming along with the general chaos of news vans and police cars, and it was easy to fade in among them, just one in a faceless crowd. He couldn’t help a smile as he watched Sam’s speech from a distance, pride filling him for both his friends. He’d always known Bucky was a hero; now everyone did, and passing the shield along to Sam before he left, at least, had been the right move. He’d never had a doubt about that. He’d find a way to give his congratulations later though. Tonight wasn’t about him, and he wasn’t going to intrude on the victory. If Steve was lucky, it would never be about him again. He drifted to the edge of the crowd, glancing back once more before he turned and headed for home.

#walkitoffrogers #★⠀⠀⟶⠀⠀so let mercy come and wash away what i’ve done⠀⠀/⠀⠀verse.#hi hello this hits so many of the things i love so i felt compelled

33 notes · View notes

traveler-at-heart · 3 years ago

Text

Love you deserve

Summary: Natasha watches you go through a complicated relationship.

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: This is more like therapy for myself, but I wanted to post it either way. --

She learned it was better not to ask. Most of the times, you didn’t even know where you stood and after all, it was your life. Not hers.

You were an Avenger in every sense of the word, except to the public. This would grant you the ability to go on missions and do recon while keeping a low profile. You were the eyes and ears of the team. There was a room where you were free to stay in whenever needed. You were there for some movie nights and Wanda definitely became your best friend after some time. With Natasha it was different. She approached you slowly and carefully, curious about how you could manage such a heavy burden without losing your kindness. And as she got to know you, she understood that you were in fact, too kind. There was always a cup of coffee waiting for her, a seat for movie night and someone that held her hand everytime she went to the med bay. Because Natasha would not get you to shut up unless she got a doctor to clear her after every mission. You were also too kind to the wrong people. She first met your wife at one of Tony’s parties. This one was for Steve’s birthday and you were excited to celebrate Cap. But it was hard to handle the evening when your wife snapped at you over everything, and barely showed any interest when you introduced her to your teammates. A hand flew to the back of your neck nervously, sighing when she excused herself to find a restroom and you found your way to the bar. Maybe you shouldn’t have invited Jess. And she would have made a big deal out of it, still. It was always a complain about not including her in your life and when you did, it was still not enough. You couldn’t win. “You think Cap is gonna need a fire extinguisher to blow all those candles?” Natasha mumbled against your ear, pulling you out of your thoughts. You looked up, and even if it wasn’t the first time you’d seen those beautiful emerald eyes, they always took your breath away. “Huh?” looking around after she nudged you again, you saw Sam and Bucky carrying a cake with at least a hundred candles. Everyone began to sing happy birthday, but honestly the cake was barely noticeable under all those tiny little flames. “Oh, my God!” you laughed against Natasha, thinking it was the most ridiculous thing you’d seen. The feeling didn’t last long. You got a text from Jessica, telling you she was leaving. “Excuse me” you mumbled, walking to the elevator. “Don’t” she warned when you found her, looking like a kid about to throw a fit. “I did what you asked me. You said I wasn’t involving you in my life” “You don’t!” “I just did” you pointed at the room full of your friends. “And you couldn’t stay for a full hour before making an exit” “I don’t have to. We separated months ago” she threw in your face again, like she always did when she screwed up. “But you still call me every day, and still want me to be home for dinner. Make up your damn mind. Because you say we’re going our separate ways and then you ask if I can stay over” “You don’t love me” she sniffled. Moments like this made you feel heavy. Because you knew what she was doing and you knew what you should respond. There was absolutely no way your marriage had a future. And yet again, you couldn’t walk away. “You know that’s not true” “I saw the way you looked at her. So go back to your little Russian friend” “You are the only one, Jess. Don’t I come home every time you ask me to?” “Maybe” “Well… can we go back and have some cake, at least?” “I don’t want to. Take me home” she asked. You looked back at the team and then did as you were told. And you hated yourself for it. — It was back and forth most days. You could have a very good week with Jess, where you’d laugh, enjoy cooking and going out, spending every night together. And then she’d change completely, leaving you to guess what the hell had made her snap. Punching a boxing bag would usually take the edge off, but this morning it wasn’t working. “Do you want to spar?” the redhead offered, and you nodded. She’d never seen anyone fight so desperately, as if your life depended on it. She knocked you down, and you got up, not even processing the last punch before throwing another one. The only way to make you stop was by pinning you to the ground, your face against the mat as you let out a sob. “Stay down” Natasha pleaded. You nodded and she finally let go of your hands. “I’m sorry” you said, out of breath. “What are you sorry for?” You chuckled, but it came out like another sob. “For loving someone who hurts me so much. A fucking psycho that talks about going to Italy in the summer and then a week later reminds me I have to sign our divorce papers” The redhead winced at that and you looked down, slumping your shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m dumping this on you. Just… I should go” you sighed and walked away. The redhead couldn’t stop thinking about you after that. “She deserves better” Natasha told Wanda the next day. “I know” the other woman nodded, pouring two cups of hot cocoa. It was the go-to drink to cheer you up. And boy if you needed it, after getting divorce papers delivered by a messenger to your fucking office of all places. Breaking your heart wasn’t enough; the humilliation had to be an extra for Jessica. “Does she know?” Natasha asked. “Because I can’t understand how Y/N can be with someone who treats her like that” “There’s a lot of history there” Wanda sighed. “A lot of guilt too. It’s not my place to tell you or judge her. I’m just her friend. I make the hot cocoa and listen” Natasha nodded, her heart still aching for you. You deserved so much love. She wished she could show you. But then again, Natasha of all people knew nothing about love. You deserved better. Which meant Natasha would never have a chance. “She could use another friend” Wanda said before leaving the kitchen, staring at the redhead intently. Two days later, as you came back to the Compound, Natasha met you in the hallway, a small smile on her face. “I ordered way too much Chinese if you want some” “I had dinner already, but thanks” Natasha knew that look. You were with your… whatever the hell she was. Wanda was right, you needed another friend but the pang of jealousy and annoyance Natasha felt at the idea of you being with someone else made her understand it. She wanted to be more than friends. “Hey, Nat. Not so fast. We could still watch a movie” you hurried after she turned around, terrified at the sudden realisation. “Wouldn’t want your wife to get upset” she snapped, turning around to glare at you. “Why do you do that to yourself? Can’t you see you deserve so much more?” You scoffed and walked past her. Now she was the one following you. “You don’t know everything we’ve been through. You don’t know all the times I screwed up. All the times I failed Jess. Maybe I do deserve to be treated like shit because that’s the only way I’ll try to be better” “That’s bullshit, and you know it!” “I don’t! I truly don’t because if I did I wouldn’t have gone down to see her even if I already know she’s fucking someone else while swearing she still loves me!” “Y/N” Steve softly interrupted. “Not now, Steve. I’m explaining Natasha why I’m a fucking waste of time” “It’s urgent. And you should come too” he pointed at the redhead. “Fine” Both of you followed him to a breefing room. Maria, Tony and even Fury were there. “Here” Cap gave you a folder and you began to browse through the files. Natasha approached you to read over your shoulder and you instantly relaxed at her proximity. “Plutonium” Maria said. “A big purchase that could be happening soon. Or not” “All we know is there’s someone out there with a lot of it” Fury spoke, looking at you. “Undercover?” he confirmed with a nod. “How long?” “Whatever it takes. But it won’t be quick. At least three months” “You don’t have to go” Tony spoke for the first time. “It’s kind of her job, Stark” Fury snapped. “I’m gonna miss you too, Tony” you winked at him, closing the folder. “When do I leave?” “Tomorrow morning. Agent Hill will give you all the details. The rest of you are dismissed” Fury walked out, followed by Steve and Tony. “Romanoff?” “She should have back up” “And you’re thinking the famous Black Widow who was on international news after the New York attack is the perfect partner?” “I can be discreet” “Nat. I’m gonna be fine” “You don’t know that” she turned to you, a pleading look on her face. “Have some faith in me, will you? Come on, I’ll find you before I leave” It took Steve pulling her out of the room to finally listen. And when you came back to your room, you took one look at the papers you were supposed to sign. You had a choice to make. —- Time and distance was what you needed, Wanda argued. “With someone like Jess, only a clean cut would do the trick. She can’t manipulate Y/N if she can’t speak to her” Natasha wanted to believe it. But she still missed you. It had been four months and you would just give a sign here and there to let them know you were alive. It wasn’t enough. Ever since you left, Natasha had avoided long missions, just in case you needed back up. But this time, after Clint’s complains and Sam’s hints, the redhead pulled her weight and went on a week long recon mission to Madrid. When she got back, the entire team was gone. She would appreciate the time alone if it didn’t make her thoughts go crazy. “Hello?” she heard a voice from the entrance. The redhead frowned and ran to find you. You walked with the help of a cane, your right leg moving slowler. “Y/N!” she launched herself to your arms and you winced. “Sorry. What happened?” “Got the buyer. The team is seizing the plutonium but I had to pretend I was running from them. For all intent and purposes, the person I was to those dealers got blown up” “I should have been there” “If you were there, who would drive me to get some coffee and apple pie?” “Fine” she rolled her eyes, feeling ten times lighter now that you were back. “Shower first” you declared. You were eager to go out and explore the city again, and luckily for you Natasha was willing to drive you anywhere you wanted. “What happened to your leg?” she asked once you were settled in your favorite cafe. “I took a bullet for the woman that had the plutonium. After that she trusted me blindly. A small price to pay to get the mission done” “But will you be ok?” “Doctor Cho is confident that she can fix it. I’ll just need some physical therapy and rest. And let me tell you, I am not planning on going on a mission any time soon” You both laughed at that. “I may be going back and forth with the debriefing and everything. But I expect to be back to living in the Compound full time” “You’re moving?” “I signed the divorce papers before leaving for the mission. And I’ve avoided any way to contact her, in case she thinks she can change my mind” “Wanda was right. You needed time and distance” she crossed her arms, understanding why you looked so happy and free. It wasn’t just the ending of the mission. “Wanda knows me very well” you nodded, smiling at the thought of your friend. “I’m still sorry for the things I said” Natasha sighed, leaning forward. “I needed to hear that. And I know you would never say it to hurt me, Nat” “It’s good to have you back” she finally admitted, her voice soft. You reached out for her hand and squeezed gently. “It’s good to be back” — The next month was one of the best ones you’ve had. Being around people you trusted made you forget about the struggles of your recovery. Doctor Cho, being the genius she was, made true to her word and repaired the tissue that had been severely damaged. And while you worked to get your strenght back, Natasha kept you company. She’d read a book while you exercised and made sure you weren’t in too much pain. Or she’d tell you about all the things that happened while you were gone, distracting you from the constant prodding of needles as the medical team ran test after test. Your favorite tradition was cooking diner. Having too much free time, you’d decided to make some home cooked meals. The redhead always showed up at 5 o’clock sharp to help. And you’d have to repeat some instructions, but the look on her face when she got a taste of dinner was worth it. Everyone seemed to caught on the fact that Natasha had basically taken a leave until you were fully recovered. Wanda had to step in when they decided to start a bet over who was gonna make the first move. Which was a shame, because it ended up being a tie. Natasha had been busy with reports when she got a call. Her eyes widened when she saw your name on the screen. You’d usually reach her through F.R.I.D.A.Y. “Y/N?” “Hey, Nat” “Yes, this is Nat” “Ugh, don’t be an ass right now” you sighed and she chuckled. “Can you come pick me up at the New Amsterdam hospital?” “What? What happened? And how on Earth did you leave the Compound without me noticing?” “Just a little accident. I got ambushed by a vicious bike on an evening walk. I don’t even have a concussion but the staff won’t let me leave unless someone picks me up” “Fine. Stay put” she asked, collecting her things from the desk. “I can’t believe you managed to get in trouble the one day you leave home” “You and me, Nat” — You were talking to the kid on the bed next to yours when Natasha walked in the E.R. The boy gaped when he recognised her. “See?” you bragged. He didn’t believe you when you told him you knew the Avengers. The redhead ignored the interaction, going straight to your side. “Do I need to put a tracker on you?” she threatened and you laughed. “Relax, will you? I was just looking for something. Can we sign my discharge so we can go?” “I’ll find someone to help” Natasha rolled her eyes and went out into the hallway. As she reached the front desk, she heard someone repeating your name. “I’m her next of kin” Jessica insisted. “She asked for a Miss Romanoff” the receptionist read. “That’s me” Natasha said, without looking at Jessica. The woman handed her a document that the redhead signed, distancing herself from your ex wife. “So now everything makes sense” the woman said, following Natasha. “You’re her fuck buddy, aren’t you?” “I’m her friend. And at least I treat her with some respect and sympathy, unlike you” “What makes you think you can speak to me like that?” the woman snapped, pulling Natasha by the arm to turn back. “Lay a hand on me one more time and see how many fingers you lose” the redhead threatened. “What do you think you’re doing?” you appeared behind Natasha, the severity of your tone making her snap out of her (very violent) thoughts. Natasha turned around, knowing that she’d crossed a line. But to her surprise, the anger wasn’t directed at her. You were glaring at Jessica. “The hospital called me” “Don’t you ever talk to her like that again” you stood between Jessica and Natasha, looking intently at your ex-wife. “We’re divorced and obviously the hospital calling you was a mistake” “So now you’re with her?” “That doesn’t concern you or justify the way you spoke to her. Don’t ever come anywhere near Natasha or me, please” “Fine” Jessica snapped, taking her wedding ring -which you could tell she had just put on to play the abandoned wife card- and all but threw it at your face. “Sorry” Natasha turned towards you, but kept her eyes down. “Don’t. She was out of line. Let’s just go, ok?” Natasha nodded and walked quietly next to you. As you got out of the hospital, you gathered the courage to take her hands in yours and stop in the sidewalk. “Wait, please?” Natasha nodded, looking confused, but never letting go of your hands. “I’m sorry about that. I really am. I never remembered about changing that contact. All that time away. I felt relieved, you know? She couldn’t reach me and she couldn’t make me feel guilty for things that happened years ago. Never once did I miss her” “You don’t have to explain anything” “I do, because I missed you. Like crazy. All the time. I just wanted to be back to see you again, Nat.” as you confessed what you were feeling, you started to ramble on “And I’m sorry about leaving the Compound but I wanted to get you flowers to ask you out and this guy on a fucking fixie out of all goddamn bikes just threw me across the street…” “You were gonna ask me out?” Natasha said, smiling. Blushing, you searched in the pocket of your jacket, pulling out two flowers that had seen better days. Natasha took them delicately and then laughed, closing the distance between you two for a slow and tender kiss. “If you don’t say something I’m gonna assume you do have a concussion” Natasha nudged you. “Just enjoying the moment” you smiled against her lips, eager to feel them again. “And believe me when I tell you, I want more like this one”

#Natasha Romanoff x Reader #Natasha Romanoff x you

559 notes · View notes

wherestheflght · 2 months ago

Text

@ofspunkysass

[I knew Sharon was just being nice now with her response. A strangely surreal feeling given each time we had been face to face before she wanted to shoot me. Grant it, I deserved it given our torrid history, but my point is, this was all new between us. Oddly unsettling too, might I add. Either way, I knew she was trying to go easy on me about Steve's reasoning. Deep down though, I think we both knew the real reason why Steve picked Sam to take up his mantle over me. Steve didn't trust me. In words he always claimed that he believed in me; reassuring me that I wasn't the same deranged assassin HYDRA had brainwashed me to be, but in spite of his words, I knew Steve no longer trusted me. Too much had happened through the years for him to ever trust me. I hated the thought of that, but in my gut, I knew it was true] My sugar mamma, huh? [I laughed lightly. I couldn't remember the last time I had a genuine laugh like that. It felt oddly refreshing since I had lost my sense of humor a hundred years ago] A guy can't argue with that. [I said jokingly as we left my apartment; locking up the front door behind us before we started down the stairs and toward the lobby. Once we made our way outside, we took the short walk to the diner I had in mind; stopped so I could chivalrously open the door for her to enter first] The food here is great. Their breakfast is my favorite though.

@ofspunkysass

[My chest was heavy and I had to catch my breath as I came to. Cold sweat formed on my forehead and down my back. Chills moving through me as I realize I had awoken from yet another nightmare. Ordinarily this was something I was used to, so I usually just brushed it off. Given that it was Sharon here witnessing this, I was admittedly embarrassed] Yeah, I’m fine. [I aired out flatly. The last thing I wanted to do was to come across as weak, but more than that, I didn’t want Sharon to be afraid of me. Judging by the fact that her hand lowered onto my shoulder, seemingly out of care and concern, I assumed she wasn’t afraid of me] That crap that HYDRA put in me might be out of my head, but I still get nightmares of all the people I hurt and killed while I was the Winter Solder. Sorry you had to witness that. [I quietly admitted. Other than my shrink, that I was required to meet with on a weekly basis, Sharon was the first person I was admitting that to. I felt self-conscious and embarrassed saying the words aloud though, so after releasing my confession to Sharon, I almost immediately changed the subject] Are you okay? Any pain? [I asked as my eyes instinctively shifted in the direction of her stitched up wound; looking for any sign of blood or issues with the stitches I put in place for her. Sure, I had my fair share of experience with stuff like that, typically on my own wounds, but regardless, I was no doctor, so I could have easily made a mistake] Do you need the dressing changed out? I can help you with that, if you want. [I quietly offered. I knew Sharon was used to handling things on her own, but regardless, I wanted her to know I was here to lend a hand, should she want and/or need it]

13 notes · View notes

hertzwritings · 2 years ago

Text

A plot

A/N: Do I have issues? Yes. Is one of those issues being shadowbanned? NOT ANYMORE, BABYYYY! I’m going to celebrate with some solid Bucky-stuff. Enjoy! Prompt: “Well, that was plan A and B. Now what?” “Have I told you about plan Z, yet?”

You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized something – the sky is the limit, and it would really help me out with my bills this month.

Remember, feedback feeds the soul (mine, in particular), and my requests and askbox are always open – there’s no limits because I am me and I have none.

MASTERLIST

SEBASTIAN STAN MASTERLIST

PROMPT-LIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: College!AU Bucky Barnes x female reader

Contains: language, Steve, Sam and Bucky being absolute NERDS, fluff, smut (MDNI), fingering, praise-kink, p in v, oral (f receiving), cream-pie, unprotected sex, dirty talk, Bucky being a vocal fucker, overstimulation, biting, mentions of drinking, Bucky being HOT

W.C.: 6.279 (whoops)

A plot

“Okay, but I’m just saying, hypothetically, would you murder someone for me?” You asked Steve with feigned seriousness. “What the hell kind of question is that?” “A very important one to our friendship, Steve.” “Okay, yes, I guess I would.” “Okay, again, hypothetically, could that someone be James?” He frowned and put his controller down. “Dude…” “I’m just saying, I gotta know where on the friendship-scale I am!” You held your hands up in defeat. “Actually, that’s a good question, that I would also like the answer to.” Bucky interjected, looking up from his phone. “I need to know if I have to sleep with one eye open.” Steve rolled his eyes. “You two are damn idiots.” “You love us.” You said with a grin. “Jamie, are you ever going to get off tinder?” “Nah, I haven’t reached the final boss.” “Pfht. Nerd.” “He’s not a nerd, he’s a whore.” Sam retorted without looking up from his book.

How you ended up in the same room as certified nerd, Steve Rogers, actual BirdwatcherTM Sam Wilson and notorious playboy James “Bucky” Barnes was beyond you. You knew Sam from years back, and when he introduced them to you, you were sure you’d just straight up hate each other. But no. They had accepted you so quickly, most people found it weird – not many people were granted the VIP access to the Sam/Bucky/Steve-experience, and you had heard several chatters around campus that you were sleeping your way through them. You scoffed at that. You knew you were fully in when you beat Steve massively in Call of Duty, although he vehemently denies it. Sam won’t let him live it down.

If you even thought about sleeping with Steve, bile rose in your throat. It would be just as weird as doing the devil’s tango with Sam – Bucky, though, was an entirely different story. Not that it mattered, because he was not interested in you, and you weren’t really one who had a lot of friends, so you refused to let your minor crush get in the way. Even though Bucky often reminded you of a shaggy rescue-dog from the pound. It might hurt just a little that he was on Tinder and doing his best to date literally anyone but you, but you tried not to let it get to you too much.

“Oh, shit. Can you guys go to the kitchen and grab me some of those cookies?” Steve asked through gritted teeth, tilting his controller and his eyes narrowed at the screen. You glanced at Bucky, who just shrugged. “Why would we need to be two to get you cookies?” Steve glanced at Sam, who was staring at Steve with an unreadable expression. “Oh, uh… Because I also would like a Gatorade.” Sam said. “You could just get off your lazy ass and get one.” You replied but stood anyway and gestured for Bucky to stay in the bed. “I got it, it’s fine.” “You sure? I’ll be more than happy to carry something, doll.” You smiled at him and winked. “I’m a big girl, I have two hands. I got it.” You missed the boys exchange a look – Bucky wasn’t aware either, because his eyes were trained on your ass when you left the room. You did however hear Steve grumble something suspiciously like idiots in love when you left the room, and something like a hard-back book hitting a face, followed by a disgruntled fuck you, punk. Life with the boys.

Two days later, you were sitting under a tree in the campus-garden, your head on Bucky’s legs and his fingers carding through your hair with his flesh hand, while his metal one kept a tight hold on the book, he was reading. You never asked about it, and he didn’t tell you – not that it mattered much to you, because Bucky was Bucky, and the metallic sheen that always followed him was a part of that. The sun was warming your body and when you looked at Bucky, you saw light freckles spread over his nose. It was cute. “Steve asked me something weird the other day.” He mumbled. You looked up at him. “You too?” Bucky frowned. “Wait, he was weird with you too?” You nodded and his fingers stilled in your hair. “Yup. I’m serious. I don’t know why he’s so invested in my love-life.” You replied. “God, right!? He’s been all up in my business lately, Buck, did you delete tinder? Bucky, have you considered that maybe what you’re looking for is right in front of you?” He imitated Steve’s voice. “He’s acting like I’m dying in a week.” “How weird. He asked me if I had ever considered dating someone from our friend group.” You felt the heat on your cheeks. “And I told him we’re like four people, Steve, and I’m one of them.” You both sat quietly for a moment. “Do you think Steve is trying to set me up with one of you?” You mused. Bucky shrugged. “I don’t know, honestly. Steve’s weird. That’s why he’s an art major.” You laughed and closed your eyes, when Bucky’s fingers began moving through your hair again. “He is weird, isn’t he?” “Just like you.” You scoffed. “I’m not weird.” He chuckled. “Liar. We literally had an hour-long conversation about if I would still love you if you were a sour gummy worm.” You nodded. “It was very important to know!” You laughed. “And if I recall, you were the one who told me I’d look great as a blue and pink gummy worm, and that you didn’t like sour gummy worms, so you were sure you wouldn’t eat me, but just keep me in your pocket at all times.” “And I stand by that.” He grinned at you. “Steve even agreed that you’d be a cute gummy worm.” “Steve is wise like that.” “Also, he’s very in love with Sam.” Bucky stated. “Oh, I’ve never seen anything like it.” You laughed. “He’s simping so hard, it actually hurts to look at.” “They’ll figure it out in their own time. Sometimes it takes a while to see that friendship isn’t all you want, you know?” You did. “Yeah.” It was quiet for a moment, before Bucky’s phone rang. “Yo, Steve, what’s up?” You could hear the muffled sound of Steve talking, and Bucky frowned and looked down at you. “Wait, seriously?” You frowned too and sat up. “No, I mean, sure, she can… I just… They literally just did that, right? Isn’t it weird that’s it’s already…” He sighed. “Yeah, sure. I’ll let her know.” He hung up and looked at you. “It looks like you have to stay at our place for a while.” “Wait, what?” you pouted. “It smells like ass in your place, no offense.” “Offense very much taken, I try to keep a clean house, I’ll have you know.” He sighed and tightened his bun, blowing a few strands of long hair out of his face. “Anyway, your roommate talked to Steve, for some reason, and your place is getting fumigated.” “Again?” You groaned. “I can’t deal. Literally. Bugs. Again?” He shrugged. “Steve said you’re welcome to stay at our place.” “Thanks. I’ll just call him, hang on.” You pulled your own phone out and saw a few messages from your roommate, telling you to stay very far away from the dorm, because it was nasty as hell and smelled like death. Great. You called Steve. “Hi, Y/N.” “Hey, uh… Thanks for letting me stay while my place gets fixed up.” “Yeah, no issue. I mean, we don’t have a spare room, so you probably have to bunk with Bucky.” You frowned and felt heat rise on your cheeks and neck. “Uh… You have a couch, Steve. I’m not stealing Bucky’s bed.” “Oh. I just thought that maybe…” He trailed off and you heard whispers in the background. “Yeah, cool. Uhm, I think you still have a few t-shirts here from last time, so… You guys just head on back when you’re ready.” You smiled. “Sure. Thanks, Steve. I’ll cook tonight as a thank you.” You hung up and immediately clutched your phone to your chest, when Bucky shouted happily. “YES!” You looked at him with raised eyebrows. “What? I can’t eat Sam’s shitty Mac’N’Cheese again.” You laughed.

At the boys’ place, Steve and Sam was leaning over the rackety table in the kitchen, heads close together. “Are you even sure, that they’re into each other?” Sam asked carefully. “Yes! I’ve heard both Bucky and Y/N be like oh, but we’re just friends so nothing can happen. I’m telling you, they’re idiots in love.” Sam sighed. “Well, that was plan A and B. Now what?” Steve grinned wickedly. “Have I told you about plan Z yet?”

You happily cleaned the dishes from dinner, humming a song under your breath, while the boys were discussing softly in the background (“No, I’m not saying that Garfield two should have won an Oscar, I’m just saying…”) and you glanced back at them, catching Bucky’s eyes. He smiled softly and looked away; his cheeks tinted pink. “Okay, boys, while I love your discourse on movies that deserve an Oscar, but was rudely stripped, like Barbie and the Nutcracker, I need the couch. I’m dead-tired.” Sam nodded and stood, while Steve gasped. “BARBIE AND THE NUTCRACKER!? Take that back, we all know it should’ve been Barbie of Swan Lake, you heathen!” Bucky shook his head at Steve. “Come on, if we’re talking Barbie movies, you all know that Barbie as the princess and the pauper is superior. I will die on this hill.” You all groaned. “I’m not entertaining this discussion. Y/N, can I borrow you for a little bit before we go to bed? I just need your help.” Sam said, shooting Steve a very pointed glance. “Uh, sure…?” You followed Sam to Bucky’s room, where you shifted your weight a little from foot to foot, a little weird about being in here without Bucky. “Sam, what are we…?” “Oh, don’t worry, he just keeps the extra blankets and shit in here. It’s under the bed, can you get it? I’ll find the extra sheets, those are in Steve’s room.” You nodded, albeit a little confused. “Dude, your division of stuff is strange.” “It’s not my fault, I said we should’ve used the closet in the hallway, but those two assholes insisted on keeping their old roleplay-stuff in there. I have way too many hobbit-capes and swords in my closet for my liking.” He grinned. “Be right back.”

You got to your knees and started looking for the extra blankets but couldn’t find any. “Not that I’m complaining about the view, but uh, Whatcha doing in here, doll?” You yelped and jumped a little, knocking your head against the bedframe. “Shit, ouch!” You rubbed the spot, and Bucky hurried to your side. “Fuck, sorry, baby, I thought you heard me come in!” He gently helped you to your feet. “It’s fine, I… Sam said the extra blankets were in here.” Bucky frowned, his hands still on your arms. It made you feel warm. “Uh, no? The blankets are in the box in the living room, what the…” You both turned to the door, where Sam and Steve stood with wide grins on their faces. “Sorry, kiddos, but you two need to talk!” Steve said, laughing a little, before they shut the door and a suspicious scraping sounded from the other side. Bucky rushed to the door, but it was jammed from the outside and you both groaned. “Guys, seriously?” “We’re watching a movie downstairs, and we can’t hear anything! Call us if you need the bathroom or something like that!” Sam’s voice was muffled by the door. “You’re assholes!” You yelled back at them but didn’t get a reply. Bucky sighed and sat down on his bed, patting the spot between his legs. You obliged easily, sliding onto the bed and between his legs, leaning your back against his chest. “Do you know what they meant?” You asked after a few moments. “No, but I rarely understand what the hell Steve and Sam are scheming about. Do you remember last year, where they tried to be all sneaky and weird, and we didn’t understand that they were trying to make sure we both were here for the birthday party?” You laughed. “Yeah, they are pretty shit at doing whatever they’re trying to do.” Bucky wrapped his arms around you. “What do you think they meant by need to talk? We talk all the time.” You asked, but your phone buzzed before Bucky had a chance to answer. “Oh, it’s from Steve.” You read it out loud.

Golden retriever: topics for conversation: gaming. Y/N gaming in buckys red henley. buckys lack of tinder. Why there’s a lack of Tinder. If you are in love. Who you are in love with. Kinks. You sighed as another message ticked in, this time from Sam. Bird-lover: PS: We’ll turn the tv up a LOT so don’t worry we won’t hear anything. Promise. Bucky huffed. “They’ve got some nerve.” You flipped through an appropriate meme to respond with. Female God:

Bird-lover: Love you too Y/N. One day, youll thank me.

You sighed and threw your phone at the end of the bed, before sitting up and turning to face Bucky with a feigned serious expression. “Jamie. This is very important.” He cleared his throat and his face fell into the same, feigned seriousness as yours had. “Yes, Y/N?” “What are your kinks? And if it has anything to do with bodily fluids, I’ll jump out of the window.” He laughed. “Uh, I mean, I like…” He blushed. “No, fuck you, I can’t. I need beer for that conversation, Y/N.” He jumped off the bed and quickly grabbed two beers from the mini fridge, twisting the caps off; you swallowed thickly at the sight of his arm tensing. He handed you one and sat back down. “I think we should start with something easier.” He said quickly. “Oh?” “Yeah.” You took a sip. “Like… We could talk about you in my red Henley.” “I wore it once, there isn’t much to talk about, Jamie.” “Once was more than enough. It’s yours, now. You need to stop calling me that, by the way.” He said with a smirk. “Why?” You asked, slightly confused. You’d always called him Jamie. He shrugged. “It makes me feel all… gahj.” “Gahj?” “Yup.” You laughed. “Dully noted.” He took a sip from his beer, before his blue eyes found yours. “I’m not going to stop, though, I’ll just be more aware of your face, Jamie.” And sure enough, the corners of his mouth twitched, and he flushed. “You’re an ass.” “You love me.” “Yes, you are my little gummy worm.” You both laughed at that, and conversation flowed easily from there.

When you had emptied the fridge for beers, and even dipped into some weirdly thick vanilla-liquor Bucky had standing in a shelf, the conversation turned. You were feeling warm and tingly, when you laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Seriously, you never answered my question.” He laid down next to you. “Which one? I refuse to answer the question of whether Steve is a top or a bottom, I’m not scarring myself with those mental images.” You chuckled. “No, about your kinks. You blushed, and now I’m curious. And a little drunk.” He chuckled. “Man, that’s… You really want that conversation?” You nodded and turned on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him. “Seriously! I want to know what makes you tick. Or tack. I don’t know what way you swing.” “I swing the personality-way.” You frowned. “Wait, are you pan?” You asked with a surprised smile. “Yup. I mean, my sexuality is like a faulty revolving door. I go all the ways.” You roared with laughter. “Jesus, alright, good for you.” He grinned. “I thought you knew, actually.” “No, but I’m not surprised.” You answered with a shrug. He cocked an eyebrow at you. “What? Really? Most people see me as straight as an arrow.” You laughed at that – Bucky was many things, but straight wasn’t one of them. “There’s no way in hell I’d ever call you straight. Dude, you know the entire soundtrack of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, I would be surprised if you were straight.” “Okay, everybody should know the entire soundtrack of that one!” He said with a huff, but then a soft smile fell on his lips. “Seriously, you’re not like… Weirded out by it?” “James. No, why would I be? Sexuality isn’t a one size fits all.” You smiled at him. “I like you for you.” You smiled at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “I also know you’re trying to deter the conversation, and I’m not having it.” He groaned and turned himself, so you were face to face. “Okay, fine. But it’s something for something, just as an FYI. If I have to tell, you do to.” You nodded. “Fair enough. You tell me one, I’ll tell you one.” “Cool. Do I have to start, though?” You rolled your eyes. “No, I can start, you wimp.” You drew a deep breath. “Okay, I like… praise.” He frowned. “Like… Good girl?” You bit your lip and tried your best to ignore the little, horny goblin somewhere in the back of your brain, that began dancing the macarena as soon as Bucky said those two words. “Yup. Among others.” “Like what?” You lifted an eyebrow at him. “Nope, that’s not fair. You need to tell me something now.” He sighed. “Fine. Okay, judgement-free zone, right?” You nodded. “So… I, uh… I like breath-play.” Your clit throbbed. Shit. This might’ve been a bad idea. “Like… Receiving or giving?” He gave you a devilish smirk. “Oh, giving, 100 precent.” “Oh.” “Your turn.” “No judgment?” He shook his head. “I like the whole… Like, primal thing? You know, biting, marking?” He smirked. And that’s how the conversation went, until you were nearing dangerous territory – you were wet just from talking about it with Bucky, and you had somehow drifted closer to each other, and the kinks had shifted to general (Bucky was apparently a pleasure-dom, which both didn’t surprise and surprise you) to something that was very specific. Like Bucky had a kink for your hair color. “Okay, I like long hair on men. I don’t know if it’s a kink, really, but it really gets me going, you know?” You whispered and couldn’t hold back your hand, when it went to tug on his bun. He groaned a little and it shot heat straight to your core. “Uhm… I, uh… I have a very specific kink.” He whispered. “Mhm?” He drew a deep breath. “You.” You stopped breathing. What? “I’m sorry?” “Yeah. I have a Y/N-kink. Why do you think I haven’t been on Tinder?” “I thought… I don’t know.” “Is it okay? That I have a Y/N-kink?” he asked softly, his hand slowly sliding up to cup your face. “If it’s okay that I have a Bucky-kink.” You answered just as softly.

His lips touched yours hesitantly, slowly, and almost as if he was scared; you sighed into the kiss, relishing in the feeling of his lips on yours, and he smiled into the kiss, pressing his lips a little harder against yours. You lost control. You mewled and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss – Bucky understood you better than you had imagined, and his tongue slid over your lip while he shifted to be on top of you, your legs wrapping around his hips. You kissed as if it was what you needed to breathe. His lips were soft, but slightly chapped, and he kissed you like his life depended on it; it was eager and curious, and you could practically feel the restrain in him. You pulled away for a brief second to find his eyes, your fingers twirling strands of his hair. “I’m not going to break, James.” He growled and kissed you ferociously, teeth dragging against your lips. “Say it again. My name.” “James.” You whined breathlessly, as his hand traveled between the two of you, unbuttoning your pants. “Mhmm… Again.” He whispered and you moaned his name again, arching your back, as his fingers slid against your soaked panties. “Shit, baby, all that just for me, huh?” you preened and moaned something akin to yes fucking yes, it is. He chuckled darkly, moving your panties a little to the side, but stopping before he actually touched you. “Shit, hold on, can you just… Get these off, please.” He mumbled, placing wet kisses on your neck. “Yeah, get off, then. And get naked yourself.” You mumbled back. You had never seen anyone move as fast as he did, and he was standing at the same time as he took his shirt off. You were breathless at the sight of his chiseled body, and you saw the blush on his face. “I, uh… Just… the scars are really bad, you know? Just don’t…” He said, his sleeve still resting against his shoulder of his metal arm. “James. It’s you, there’s nothing bad about you.” You said breathlessly, inching your pants down. His eyes darkened when he saw your soaked panties, and apparently thought screw it, because his shirt flew off, revealing his scars and the full arm. You could understand why he thought they were bad, but mostly, you found them intriguing. Angry, red and pink lines ran all the way around his shoulder, where the metal met the skin, and it reminded you of lightning; it was rough, but there was a beauty in it. You sat up and removed your shirt, leaving you in only your panties. “Come over here.” He obeyed quickly, crawling over you again, pressing his lips to your exposed skin. “Fucking hell, doll, you’re fucking gorgeous.” He mumbled against your heated skin, letting his fingers find their way back to your soaked core. This time, he didn’t let the panties get in his way, and simply slid under them, a finger rubbing small circles on your clit. “F-fuck, James…” You moaned, your toes curling. “So good for me, doll… Can you take my fingers?” You nodded furiously, desperate to feel him. He chuckled and kissed and licked the side of your neck, drawing small moans and whimpers from you. “Good girl…” He sucked in a sharp breath as he let two fingers enter you. “Fuck, you feel good around my fingers, baby…” You were practically delirious at this point. He curled his fingers up and began moving, drawing deep sighs and moans from your lips. It felt incredible; his metal hand cool on your exposed skin, while his flesh fingers moved languidly in and out of you. “You’re squeezing me already, doll… You want to cum for me?” He whispered, his lips grazing your collarbone. “Buck…” You moaned his name and rolled your hips to meet his fingers. He chuckled and with his metal hand, he held your face, moving you to face him. “Eyes on me, doll.” Your eyes snapped open, and your pussy fluttered around his fingers. He smirked and began kissing down your breasts and stomach, leaving wet trails on your skin. “You’re going to watch, doll.” You nodded and when his face settled between your legs, he winked at you once, before his mouth descended on you, his tongue flattening against your clit, while his fingers picked up pace. You gasped loudly and your toes curled. Bucky ate you out like a man starved; the sounds were fucking sinful, and the fact that his eyes were on you all the time made you want to die. It was too much, too good, and when his fingers hit the right spot in you, you screamed his name and your hand flew to his hair, holding his head in place as you grinded up against his face. “Good girl… Holy shit, you want to cum, doll? Want to cum for me?” He whispered in between his licks. “Yes, Bucky… Pl-please, please, I want to…” You mumbled, heat licking your veins. It felt like thunder was rumbling through your entire body, your legs shaking and your head a muddled mess from his tongue and fingers, and when he sped up, you lost it completely. You came with a whimper, wetness gushing out from you as he lapped up everything you gave him – you arched up, as pleasure coursed through you, fire licking your insides as you came, and Bucky didn’t let up, until you had to physically pull him away from you. He grinned mischievously and wiped his face, before he climbed on top of you and kissed you deeply. You tasted yourself on his tongue, and it made you wetter than before – you were rolling your hips up to meet him, and he growled, when your inner thigh came into contact with his hard cock. “Baby…” He kissed you again. “Baby, stop, hang on…” You were delirious. “What, James?” You asked breathlessly and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him again. “Condom.” He mumbled against your lips. “I don’t…” He groaned when you tugged on his lip with your teeth. “It’s fine. I’m protected.” You whispered, peppering kisses around his mouth. “I, uh… oh, don’t…” You rolled your hips against him. “Are you sure?” He pulled back slightly and looked you in the eyes. “Yeah, I just want you.” He growled. “Okay, just… Fuck…” He kissed you deeply, his metal hand cupping your face as he lined himself up. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long, Y/N…” He mumbled and slid inside you. Both of you moaned. “Shit, you feel so fucking good around me…” He grunted as he bottomed out, and his name was like a chant on your lips. He stilled, when he was fully seated in you and exhaled a shaky breath, letting you adjust to him. He was big. He twitched in you, and your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling – his head was nudging your cervix and the stretch was unimaginable. You had never in your life felt so damn full, and you were well aware that he would ruin you for any other person. “Please, move.” You whispered, rolling your hips experimentally when the slight burn had stopped. He kissed you deeply, his tongue swiping over yours as he pulled out and slammed back in. “Oh, my God…” You moaned and let yourself be taken completely by him. He rutted into you, burying his thick cock in you over and over, dragging against your walls, and you were shaking at the feeling of him. “Baby, you’re taking me so fucking well… Fuck, it feels so good…” He mumbled, speeding up slightly. “You’re so good for me, aren’t you, baby?” He sped up again, and you felt yourself pulse around him. “Are you going to cum for me again, baby? Want to make a mess out of me, huh?” His Brooklyn accent became thicker, and you nearly lost your damn head at it. “Cum for me, doll, atta girl…” You yelled his name and your nails dug into his shoulders as you came around him, your pussy holding him in a vice-grip. He grunted as you gushed over him, chuckling happily. “Oh, such a fucking good girl, look at you…” He moaned as you clenched around him again. “Fuck, turn around.” He pulled out of you slowly, helping you turn to your stomach – you began propping yourself up on unsteady hands and knees, but he kissed your shoulder and pressed you down on your stomach. “No, baby, just lay here…” Oh. He slid inside of you again and you mewled when he bottomed out; the new position was deeper and harder than before, and you felt him twitch inside of you again. “You should see how you’re just swallowin’ me up, baby girl…” He moaned your name. “Can I be rougher with you, doll?” You nodded and moaned. He kissed your shoulder and began fucking you again, driving his cock deeply inside of you. “Good, ‘cause I want to fucking mark you…” You whimpered and clenched around him at that. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Bein’ marked up by me, letting everyone see who you belong to, huh?” “Y-yes, Buck…” “Say my name.” He whispered, his teeth grazing your shoulder. “James!” You shrieked when he angled his hips and drove himself as deeply as he could, picking up the pace. “That’s my girl.” You could feel his smile on your skin, before his lips found your neck and bit down, while he fucked you furiously, clearly aiming to fucking kill you. You screamed and clamped down on him, your third orgasm rolling over you as a tidal wave, your entire body tensing as you came; it was too much, and you felt the wetness pool under you. “Oh, there she is… Shit, doll, fuck…” you barely heard his words at this point, bliss running rampant through your body. He gasped and moaned, placing both hands on your lower back and propped himself up, holding you with bruising force as he fucked you roughly, skin slapping against skin in a symphony with your collective moans. “Come on, baby, you have one more in you…” “I c-can’t, please…” “You can, baby, I got you…” He slowly slid to the side, bringing you with him, and spooned you, still rutting into you – his hand slid between your legs and found your throbbing clit. You gasped and your entire body twitched, while he chuckled and sped up, his rhythm faltering slightly. “There you go, baby…” He mumbled, leaving love-bites on your skin. You were overheating at this point, your entire body shaking. “Fuck, I’m gonna… Oh, fuck!” A broken scream ripped through your throat as you came hard, soaking his cock and the sheets underneath you. He roared and came a second after you, his hands holding you tightly to his body. You almost came again from the feeling of his hot cum filling you. “You’re awfully squirmy for someone, who just came, doll…” He whispered in your ear, his lips kissing the shell of your ear. Your eyes flew open, when he began rubbing small circles on your clit, still fucking into you lazily. “No, I can’t, Jamie…” You moaned, and somewhere deep inside your brain, you knew he wasn’t going to stop unless you came again. And maybe a time again after that. “You’re going to cum for me, baby? Want me to be in you, keeping all my cum in you while you cum?” He mumbled, rubbing your clit faster. You mewled and your pussy fluttered around his still-hard cock, so close it hurt. “There you go, baby…” He bit down on the juncture between your shoulder and neck at the same time as he pressed against your clit and snapped his hips into you.

You came hard, clamping down on him and let the pleasure run over your body let rays of sun warming your skin. It was incredible.

What felt like hours later, he pulled out of you, kissing your skin as much as he could, before he went to his closet and found a small towel to clean you with. You laid back and let him, watching him through hooded eyes. His hair had come out of the bun and framed his beautiful face, a small smile lingering on his lips. He threw the towel to the ground, and climbed back into bed with you, letting you settle with your head on his chest, his arms clutching you tightly. “So…” You said in a hoarse voice. “That was…” “Yeah.” He kissed you softly on your forehead. “I, uh… You might have a few bruises here and there.” He chuckled. “Oh, you think I mind?” You laughed. “I don’t mind at all. Unless you mind…?” You asked slowly, biting your lip. “What? No, not at all!” He lifted your head with two fingers under your chin to make you look at him. “Seriously, I meant it when I said I’ve been waiting for a while to do this.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “Steve and Sam have been bugging me about it for months, but I never really worked up the nerve to say anything.” You grinned. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I’ve been the same way. Steve has been a right dick trying to get me to talk to you about it.” You frowned. “Oh my god… They’ve been trying to set us up.” Bucky gasped. “Holy shit, that’s why he wanted us both to go to the kitchen the other day!” “And I’m sure that if I texted my roommate to tell her I was coming over to get clothes, she’d refuse me entrance. I think they’ve been conspiring for a while.” You laughed. “God, we’re actual idiots.” “Yeah. Hey, so… You know how Steve gave us conversation topics?” You nodded. “Well… Uhm, to take one of them… I am in love.” He whispered. “Oh, really?” You grinned, drawing lazy circles on his chest with your finger. “Mhm. Actually have been for a while. Remember the other day, where you asked if I was on Tinder?” You nodded. “I wasn’t. I haven’t dated for… Maybe six months, now? I don’t know. I, uh… Well, you came along and somewhere along the line, I kind of fell in love with you.” “Kind of?” You asked with a smirk. He rolled his eyes. “I fell in love with you, you pedantic whore.” He laughed. “I think it happened when you tried to help Steve move that awful couch into the living room. You scrunched your nose up. “Yeah, that pink travesty was really something.” He nodded. “I just remember looking at you and you looked at me with this like… Almost secretive smile, as if I knew exactly what you were thinking, even though I’ve never been able to keep up with you, really.” He kissed your forehead again. “And something just clicked for me. I can’t really say what. It just did. Maybe I always had a thing for you, but it was just in that moment, it really… Solidified.” “I know when I fell in love with you. I mean, I didn’t fall as much as willing walked right into it, but I remember when.” “You’re in love with me?” He asked with a boyish grin on his lips. “Yes, you idiot.” You stretched and kissed him softly. “I was a complete sucker for you from the beginning. I just… Fell in love in the same moment, as you lend me your hoodie, the one no one wears, at the bonfire. You just shrugged and put some of my hair behind my ear after I put it on and told me it never looked better.” “Oh, yeah, I remember that night. Honestly, I haven’t worn it since. It’s yours now.” You smiled. “Good.” “You’re mine too, you know, right?” He asked. You laughed. “I know.” A moment of silence fell between you and you couldn’t help yourself from letting your hand travel down to his cock. It seemed unfair that he had a chance to taste you, feel you, but you didn’t have a chance to do the same to him. He hissed when you made contact with it and wrapped your hand around it, slowly stroking it. “Fuck…” he moaned. “As much as I like feeling myself get hard in your hand, we should, oh…” You grinned at him. “Fuck, you’re good with your hands…” He placed a hand over yours and forced you to stop moving. “Baby, we should get some water. And food. Definitely food.” You sighed dramatically. “Fine. But only if food entails Chinese, or I’m breaking up with you.” He laughed. “We haven’t even said that we’re dating yet, and you’re already trying to break up with me?” You both got out of the bed and began getting dressed. “Well… Are we?” You asked. He walked to you, wrapping his arms around you and leaned his forehead against yours. “Baby, do you want to be my girl?” You kissed him deeply, your heart fluttering at the feeling of his lips against yours. You could do this forever, if you got the chance.

“If you get me Chinese.” He roared with laughter. “Deal. I’ll just… We need the boys to open the door.” You pulled your phone from the bed, and typed a message in the group-chat. ASSHOLE PATROL

The female god: You can open the door, we talked Metal detector: Actually, we talked with our bodies Bird-lover: gross Golden retriever: ew but ill unlock the door but only because Y/N asked Bird-lover: literally cant be assed with bucko The female god: fair and valid point I am the best and we all know it Metal detector: you guys are assholes and im hungry

The door opened a few seconds later to a smiling Steve, who cocked an eyebrow. “It smells like love and vanilla liquor in here.” “You smell like not telling your crush you’re in love with him.” Bucky deadpanned, grabbing your hand and led you to the kitchen, handing you a flyer from the Chinese place closest to their house. Steve came down the stairs with wide eyes, and you grinned deviously at him. “Steve, either you tell him…” You exchanged a look with Bucky, who grinned widely. “Or payback is a bitch.” He finished.

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

TAGLIST: @acaceta @a-skov @angelmather1 @cooldreamlandsandwich @doubletriplepowerbomb @est1887 @enchantedbytomandhenry @fionnthebandersnacc @herroyalbubbliness @jeepgirls-stuff @keiva1000 @kebabgirl67 @littlebirdofrivia @luclittlepond @mis-lil-red @multifanficdom @one-sweet-gubler @pandaxnienke @perfunctory-username69 @penneferofvenerburg @sleutherclaw @sofiebstar @summersong69 @spookyboogyuniverse @stardusted26 @thereisa8ella @timetraveller4 @thatonechickhere @themanfromu @thelastpyle @tragicphoenix13 @yourlocalhoney @wheretheriversrunintothesea @avengershoney @getthismoose @gloriuspurposee @sebastianstansasslaps @the-omni-princess @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @xcallmetaniax @calstielwinchester @janita @lover-of-bucky @marvel-whor @keiva1000@tfandtws @youtubersshipper

207 notes · View notes

bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 3 years ago

Text

Nowhere to Go | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! Have some angst!

Send me your comments, requests, and/or suggestions! 🥰

tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @glxwingrxse @psychoticmason @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned 💘

—————————————

“Home” was a complicated word for Bucky. He was a prisoner under Hydra, spending his time either in a small, cramped cell or under cryogenesis. When he’d finally escaped, he never stayed in one place too long.

Run down apartments with holes in the walls and newspapers covering in the windows served to keep him away from prying eyes and inclement weather. But they were never “home”.

His time in Wakanda was lovely but short, granting him yet another temporary living space that wasn’t actually his.

When the compound was constructed, members of the team moved in and made it their permanent residence. Wanda, Vision, Scott, Rhodey, and even Agent Hill called the compound home- but not Bucky.

Bucky didn’t have the luxury of taking up residence in the compound. Tony refused to give Bucky a room. It didn’t matter that Tony didn’t live there; he didn’t want to grant Bucky the kindness of a roof over his head.

After Tony was gone, it was assumed that that rule would be lifted- but Rhodey enforced it, saying it was “Tony’s wishes”.

Bucky tried a few different times to get a place of his own with no luck. Even the shittiest, shabbiest apartment complexes said no to him, either because of his past or his lack of finances. If Steve were still around, there would’ve been no problem. He would’ve been a permanent resident in Steve’s apartment- no questions asked. But now that his best friend and biggest ally was gone, he had to look elsewhere.

Sam picked up the slack, granting Bucky permission to crash on his couch for as long as he needed. Sam was a good friend; he always had Bucky’s back. Their friendship started on rocky footing but blossomed beautifully as they spent more and more time together. Bucky staying at Sam’s place had had a huge hand in that, seeing as the two lived in the same one-bedroom apartment. The arrangement worked out well- until there was a hiccup.

“Okay, I hate to do this to you, but… do you think you could find another place to stay- just for a week?” Sam asked over breakfast one morning. A pit opened up in Bucky’s stomach and pangs of anxiety struck him in the chest. It had been hard enough to find somewhere to crash, and now that Sam’s couch was temporarily unavailable, he was screwed.

“It’s just that Sarah’s coming to town so I’m gonna give her my room, I’m gonna take the couch, and the boys are gonna sleep on the living room floor. It’s a small place, a lot of people and- ” Bucky put a hand up, cutting Sam off. He assured Sam it was no big deal, and that he could find somewhere else to crash with no problem.

There was a problem, however. He couldn’t stay with someone who lived in the tower on account of Tony’s rule, which knocked a good majority of the team off the list. Bruce had a place of his own but politely turned Bucky down, saying he might 'Hulk out' if he woke up to Bucky’s tortured screaming in the middle of the night. Stephen Strange wasn’t an option, seeing as he lived in the sanctum, and there was no way he was gonna ask to crash with Peter Parker.

As Sarah’s visit grew closer, Bucky’s prospects only dwindled.

Finally, the day arrived. Sarah and her boys showed up at Sam’s and insisted Bucky stay for dinner so they could catch up. When the meal wound down, however, Bucky could feel that it was his cue to leave. Sam asked where he was staying, but Bucky just tossed him a "don't worry about it" and a fake smile. He threw on his jacket and grabbed his worn duffle bag, heading out into the cold night with nowhere to go.

He argued with himself as he walked the thirty or so blocks to your apartment building, and debated even harder as he stood outside. He’d been to your place fairly often, but he’d never stayed the night.

Admittedly, he’d wanted to stay the night every time he hung out with you, but he’d always been too afraid to cross that line. You were one of the two friends he had, and he refused to lose you because of a crush. He adored your sense of humor, your wit, and the kindness you showed to everyone- including him. You were a beacon of light in the darkness of his life and if he lost you, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

He found himself standing in the hall outside your door, but couldn’t bring himself to knock. Ten minutes must’ve passed as he stood frozen, wondering if he should really ask this of you. He heard you laugh inside and figured you were watching New Girl for the millionth time. An automatic smile pulled his lips upward as he thought of you watching your favorite show, and he got so lost in the image that he hadn’t noticed your footsteps growing closer.

“Holy- Bucky!” you gasped as you opened the door with trash in hand, “you scared me, Barnes! What are you doing out here?”

He had no idea what to say. The look on his face was almost desperate; something wasn’t right. As you opened your mouth to ask if he was okay, he blurted out the reason for his visit.

“I didn’t know-” he mumbled, “I didn’t have anywhere else to go”.

The garbage bag fell from your hand and plopped to the ground at your feet. Bucky’s cheeks were pink with embarrassment as he quickly explained his situation, feeling more inferior than he ever had before. “I’ve been staying at Sam’s but his sister and nephews are in town so I needed to find somewhere else for a few days, but- Bruce said no and I can’t ask Strange and… I’m not allowed to stay at the compound.”

His last statement hit you like a ton of bricks. Tony offered you a room in the compound immediately after you’d joined the team, when you hadn’t even deserved it. More than anyone, Bucky deserved a home, place to seek comfort and solace.

“I wouldn’t be asking if it weren’t- if I had somewhere else to go, I would. But I don’t… I’m sorry for showing up unannounced like this.”

Immediately, you shook your head. There was no way you could let Bucky apologize for simply needing a place to stay. “Buck, you are more than welcome to crash here- for as long as you want”, you assured him, “I was just gonna take my garbage out, but make yourself at home. I’ll be right back”.

He gave you a small nod a grateful smile as you squeezed his arm and headed toward the trash chute.

On your walk down the hall, your thoughts were consumed by Bucky. The poor guy deserved so much better. He was a good person with a kind heart, the least he deserved was a comfortable, safe place to call home. You loved spending time with him, whether it was watching movies or just chatting on your couch.

He’d stayed at your place pretty late a few times, the two of you getting caught up in deep talks or marathoning one of the many tv shows Bucky had never seen. You always wanted to invite him to stay, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. If you ruined your friendship with him by admitting your feelings, you’d lose your mind. You figured it was safer to err on the side of caution and not cross any lines, so you’d done just that.

As you turned the corner back toward your apartment, you saw Bucky still haunting the hallway. He stood with his back against the wall, his head tipped back, and his eyes closed. It was getting late and he was exhausted, the anxiety of not knowing where to go having worn him out.

“Hey,” you murmured, “why didn’t you go inside?” His eyes popped open and he shrugged with a sad smile, mumbling something about not wanting to impose or be impolite. In one quick motion, you slid your hand into his and pulled him over the threshold, shutting the door behind you.

“Please, please make yourself at home”, you told him, “I was just gonna take a quick shower, but you can help yourself to anything in the fridge, change the channel on the tv- I don’t care. You are more than welcome here, Buck.” You refused to step away or even break his gaze until he nodded. Feeling victorious, you padded down the hall to have a quick shower. It would’ve been more fun had Bucky joined you, but you pushed the thought from your brain… for the moment.

When you returned from the bathroom, Bucky sat perched on the arm of the couch with his coat still on. “Hey, Barnes, take your coat off- stay a while”, you teased. His cheeks reddened a bit and you immediately regretted your joke as you watched him shrug out of his leather jacket. “Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Whiskey?” you asked, but Bucky shook his head- he didn’t want to be any trouble. “Cranberry juice? Green smoothie? Strawberry vodka? Almond milk?” Bucky finally cracked a smile at your ridiculous suggestions, and you counted it as a win.

“Sorry, I’m not trying to be weird… I’m just in a very- a very odd place in my life”, he sighed. “I didn’t wanna come grovel at your doorstep”. A large part of him felt like a failure. He was a grown man with sixty-two dollars to his name and no permanent residence. He was lost. He had no idea what was next for him and hated the uncertainty and instability of it all. It was incredibly kind of Sam to let him sleep on his couch, but Bucky knew it couldn’t last forever.

If Sam got into a relationship, Bucky would be on his ass. He knew Sam would never actually kick him out, but Bucky couldn’t let Sam give up his living room forever. He wanted his friend to find someone, and any prospective mates would surely be turned off by an ex-assassin sleeping on the couch.

“Well, you didn’t grovel”, you said lightly, “and I love having you here. The worst part of hanging out with you is when you leave- so this actually fixed a problem for me.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at your unwavering kindness and understanding for him. Finally, he took you up on the drink you’d offered him. The two of you sipped on a few glasses of whiskey while Bucky spilled his guts to you. Everything he was going through, everything he was feeling- all of it filled the air between the two of you, unburdening his tired shoulders.

At times, you found yourself laying a comforting hand on his forearm. His hand met yours every now and then, stroking your knuckles as he spoke. This was new for the two of you. Neither of you ever engaged in much physicality with the other out of fear of making things awkward. The innocent hello and goodbye hugs each time you saw each other were about it, but they seemed to get longer over time.

“Can I ask you something?” you finally said after your second drink. Bucky nodded reluctantly, afraid of what you might say. “I’m curious… why didn’t you just come to me? Why didn’t you ask me first?” The words came out a little sharper than you intended, prompting you to immediately follow up with, “I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. I could’ve saved you a lot of stress”.

He sat quietly for a while, running his finger along the rim of the glass and swirling the whiskey inside it. “I didn’t want to…” he said, “I love spending time with you, but I didn’t want to tell you about the position I was in. It kinda feels pathetic. I care about what you think of me and I didn’t- didn’t want to beg you for a place to sleep. I’m over a hundred years old, I should have my shit together”. Bucky never granted himself any grace or slack, which was your least favorite thing about him.

Just as you tried to speak up, Bucky let one last confession tumble from his lips: “I didn’t want you to think less of me…”

His words hit you so hard that you had to put your drink down. You angled your body so you faced him head on and took his hand with authority, giving it a tight squeeze as you spoke. “Buck, I don’t think anything could ever make me think less of you- especially not this. You’ve had a weird life- you don't have to be ashamed. You're doing the very best you can with the cards you've been dealt." He gave a reluctant nod, and his eyes flicked down to his drink. Accepting that things weren't his fault was kind of impossible for him at times.

“I don’t want you to be too embarrassed to tell me things- and you can always always come to me for help. I’m always here for you,” you promised. “I know you said you care about what I think, but this doesn’t change how I see you”.

Slowly and silently, Bucky reached toward you and wrapped his arms around your waist. His face rested against your hair as your arms wove around his neck, and the two of you sat there, breathing together. The pure and utter relief Bucky was granted by your words eased the tension he’d been carrying for the last few weeks.

Just as he murmured a quiet “thank you”, a strong yawn overtook him. He tried to hide it but was unsuccessful, and you gently suggested he get some sleep. “You can sleep out here on the couch or in the guest room or- wherever you want,” you told him, leaving out the part where he was welcome to join you in your bed. Sometimes, you suspected he may return your feelings, but too much was at stake for you to ask.

He said he’d take the guest room, and the two of you walked together down the hall toward your respective rooms. His hand brushed yours every few steps, but you weren’t sure if it was intentional or not. He pulled you in for another tight hug, whispering one more “thank you” before reluctantly retreating into the guest room.

Turning your back, you took the three steps into your own room. The deep need to have Bucky in your bed- even in the most innocent way- overwhelmed you. Each time you let him leave after a hang out, you were disappointed. You promised yourself that you’d speak up and ask him to stay, and now the opportunity had been dropped in your lap.

All at once, you found yourself back in the hall and knocking on Bucky’s door. He pulled it open instantly, almost as though he’d been waiting for you to knock. “Hey, is everything-” Bucky tried to ask, but you didn’t let him finish.

“Buck, do you wanna sleep in my bed? With me, I mean,” the words tumbled out of your mouth quickly, lest you lose your nerve, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable- I just want you to know you can. Cause, I-I’d love it if you would”.

In seconds, his mouth was on yours. He kissed you with months of pent-up feelings, wordlessly communicating to you how desperate he was for you. His hands grasped your face gently as he kissed you with slow, deliberate passion. You felt yourself melting into him and had to press your body against his to steady yourself.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, pulling away from the kiss to look you in the eye. “I can sleep in here, you don’t have to-”

You shut him up with a soft peck before taking his hand in yours and leading him to your room.

The confidence he’d had across the hall dwindled as he stood in your bedroom and the reality of the situation set in. He stood on the periphery of the room, just like he’d hung back in the hall and perched on the arm of the couch, waiting for you to allow him permission. He never wanted to overstep or impose. Bucky always felt like he didn’t belong, like he was a burden on those in his life. He tried to be as polite and easy as he possibly could, never wanting to cause any unnecessary problems.

“Hey, it’s okay. You can get in bed…” you told him gently, “sometimes I think you’re a vampire, you know that? Always need an invitation.”

He chuckled at the comparison and dropped his bag by your dresser, before pulling off his boots. Another yawn rattled his ribcage and he desperately wanted to climb into your bed, but a thought stopped him. “Um, hey. I usually sleep in just- in only my underwear. Is that okay?” he asked awkwardly. He was always so thoughtful and considerate, and his question made you smile a little to yourself.

“Well, I usually sleep in just underwear and a t-shirt,” you told him, “Is that okay?”

He rolled his eyes before giving you a confident nod. “Okay great, we’ll both be in our undies then,” you teased. He quickly stripped out of his t-shirt and jeans, standing before you in nothing but tight black briefs. The sight could’ve made you drool, but you forced yourself remain calm. Bucky was clearly exhausted and even if he wanted to fool around with you, you knew he should sleep.

Once he was settled in bed, you slipped out of your Nike shorts and climbed in next to him. The air was thick with a strange mix of uncertainty and sexual tension, as well as a healthy dose of melancholy from Bucky.

You flicked off the lamp on your nightstand and plunged the room into darkness. In the safety of the dark, Bucky secured your hand with his. “I can’t thank you enough for letting me crash here…” he murmured, giving your hand a squeeze.

You rolled onto your side and placed a hand on his chest, lightly caressing the scarred skin he hated so much. "I don't know if this is weird, but... would you- would you want to stay?" you asked. "You could have your own room instead of Sam's couch... or you could sleep um, in here. With me."

Bucky couldn't believe what he was hearing. He actually had to turn on the light and make sure you were really there beside him. "Are you- are you sure? That seems like a big imposition..." he murmured. In one swift movement, your lips were on his. He hummed contentedly and smiled into the kiss, pulling you a little closer. "I'm sure. I want you to have a permanent place", you told him, "I want you to have somewhere to call home-and I want it to be with me".

487 notes · View notes

buckyownsmylife · 3 years ago

Text

Watched him leave - Alpha!Steve smut

The one where Steve takes advantage of you

Warnings: non-con/extremely dubious consent, a/b/o dynamics, heats, non-consensual cheating - against a third-party (Bucky).

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Rubbing my arm, I tried to keep it pressed to the gash on my chest, right over my ribcage. It wasn’t even that deep, but it was deep enough, as far as the Captain was concerned. I don’t think I’d ever even heard him curse before that mission, but ever since Hydra found our original base of surveillance, I had grown to understand America’s golden boy a little bit better, and the man could curse like a motherfucking sailor.

Captain Haddock who? Steve Rogers could put any man to shame, that much I already knew, but seeing as I didn’t exactly have a crush on *that* particular cartoon character from my childhood, I think it was safe to assume it was the last character I expected to associate with my captain.

My boyfriend’s best friend.

It’d been so weird, the “upgrade” from being under his authority to kind of buddies with the man who’d been barking orders at me since I was at the Avengers Academy. Suddenly, he wasn’t giving me that awkward smirk that looked more like a grimace than anything else whenever we stumbled onto one another at a party. No, I was expected to sit right alongside him, Bucky’s metal arm on the chair behind me as I struggled not to feel out of place amongst the heroes of the Earth, the mightiest of mightiest.

When it was just James and me, it was easy to forget everything else - who he used to be and who people expected him to be. But in any situation where Steve was around, our perfect little paradise inevitably crumble to pieces at our feet, even if it wasn’t his best friend’s fault at all.

I’d noticed, how he didn’t like it either. All of the attention and the glory, it all came with a warning: MUST BE KNOWN AT ALL TIMES.

And even the mightiest hero had moments where he wanted to be ignored. So here I was, granting him his wish.

“Why can’t you ever fucking behave?” He yelled as he struggled to open the door of the safe house in the middle of nowhere, and although I 100%, absolutely deserved the drilling he was trying to give me, all I could focus was on how many days it’d been since our last stop.

Fourteen… No, sixteen last Saturday…

Shit.

“Steve.”

The way I said his name must have shocked him. In all of the years we’d known each other, I’d never felt comfortable addressing him by his first name, not even despite all of the teasing Sam always did when we were all hanging out together, as “friends” - or whatever it was we’d became after Bucky and I started dating.

“Steve, I’m off my heat pills.”

A gunshot sounded in the distance. Steve cursed as we both looked over our shoulders to check on the distance from our enemies. We both knew our only option was to hide in the “abandoned cabin”, which was actually reinforced with enough metal and insulation to keep us protected from a hurricane if it were to come by - until the Hydra agents gave up on us or someone came to our rescue.

We just didn’t count on the fact that I’d go into heat and he’d be stuck in there with me.

A shiver ran down my spine, and I saw Steve pale as he threw one last look into where we could hear men approaching before tapping the security code that opened the door to the safe house. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t look me in the eye once we were inside the cabin. After making sure the door was perfectly locked and there was no way they could get in, he made a beeline to the bathroom, while I stood in the middle of the open-space kitchen-bedroom-and-living-room and pondered over what the fuck I should do.

If I stayed there, there was no way I’d be able to hold back. I’d been in heat pills ever since I was fifteen and first decided I wanted to become a SHIELD agent. This heat would be years in the making. I wouldn’t just need to pounce on an Alpha - I’d become feral for him or her.

But there was only one ‘him’ here. And it was one I definitely didn’t want to need.

“Steve…” I tried again once he was out of the bathroom, hands on his hips as he kept ignoring me. I knew what he was looking for. I also knew he wouldn’t find it. “Steve, they don’t keep heat pills in safe houses. Each omega needs different dosages, they could never stock up on everything. We’re told to carry them with us at all times.”

“Then where the fuck is yours?!” He yelled, making me jump and fall over some empty boxes that’d been left by the previous inhabitants of this place, certainly. “Why do you have to make everything so goddamn difficult, all of the fucking time?”

Suddenly, I was so done with all of this. The way my suit clung to my sweaty skin, making me feel even more uncomfortable than Steve’s hardened gaze on me. The way my chest tightened to the point it was making it difficult for me to breathe.

How none of this was my fault, and still, I was getting the (blame for it?) worst of it, somehow.

“My last envelope stayed back at the hotel,” I informed him, for once in my life standing up to the man who was my boss. “You know, the one from where we had to run once you blew up our covers?”

Our chests heaved with the anger we were both trying to contain, not wanting this to become even worse than it already was. His blue eyes looked almost black and he glowed underneath the single fluorescent light that illuminated the wooden interior, and I shivered.

A single drop of sweat ran down my back, and when I opened my mouth to sigh, a hand cut off my breath.

“No.”

I hadn’t noticed how close we’d gotten after I decided to stand up for myself. His hard chest was pressed up against mine and that, in addition to the way his fingers pressed to the sides of my throat, had the fire in my belly bursting up into full flames that threatened to swallow me whole.

It scared me.

“No, you don’t get to turn this around and blame me for your shitty behaviour.” I wanted to take a step back, put some distance between the both of us, but his grip on me didn’t allow me to do so. And the danger he exhaled only added to the heat growing inside of me, making it emanate in waves towards the man that was scarying me. “Do you have any idea how fucking hard you’ve made this mission for me?”

Had I been in a different mindset - a saner, calmer mindset - I might have questioned his words, even realized the warning in them. I hadn’t been the one at fault for anything that had gone askew - Steve had been behaving weirdly since the very beginning, when we first set foot in Barcelona. He’d lost track of our target a dozen times until ultimately giving off our location and mission, resulting in us having to disappear and leave everything behind - including the pills he was guilting me for forgetting.

How could this possibly be my fault?

My world was flipped upside down when he turned me around and pressed my back against his front, forcing me to acknowledge a hardness I wasn’t expecting. “Do you have any idea how hard you’ve been making my life since you waltzed into it?”

Dizzy with the lack of oxygen, my only choice was to hold onto Steve’s arms as he kept me close, breath hitting my neck as he growled, “Wanna know what it felt like? Watching you fall for him while I was dying to be inside of you?”

My clothes were torn into shreds with a single hand and I was left exposed, feet dangling as he palmed my drenched cunt with determination. “I tried so hard to be a good guy, a good boss. I kept myself away, not wanting to put you in a difficult position, and then Bucky came and just… took you.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to scream and fight and tell him that I didn’t want this, but as his fingers swiped along my lower lips, gathering my wetness, the heat I was hoping to control took over, and I was left pliant and eager.

Desperately in need of something only he could provide me at that moment.

“Yeah, it feels good, doesn’t it?” I jutted my hips up, searching for his digits instinctively, desperate for his touch. “I’ll show you how it would have been, how it could have been if you’d chosen me. I’ll show you what you’re missing. I’ll keep the pain away, however long it takes.”

But it didn’t take long at all. The video security system alerted us of the approach of a helicopter - SHIELD’s, and so our time together was running out. With a swipe of his thumb, he brought me to a release, but then he just kept playing with it, prolonging my pleasure way past sensitivity until it became the most delicious pain I’d ever felt…

And then he let me go.

“Get dressed,” he ordered, not even sparing me a glance as he pointed towards the bathroom, where I assumed he’d found some clothes left behind. “I’ll help them take down those Hydra agents.”

And as I watched him leave, I was torn between thanking him and crying, knowing I wouldn’t have been able to return home tonight if he hadn’t provided me with at least one orgasm to hold onto in the efforts to keep my heat at bay, but still…

How would I ever be able to look Bucky in the eyes again?

“You won’t tell him,” Steve informed me, like I had no say in the matter. I hadn’t even realized he was still standing right there, in front of the closed door, his back turned to me. “I helped you, now you owe me.”

A/N: What do you think Steve will want in return? 👀

#my fics #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #smut #tw noncon #tw dubcon #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers reader inserts #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fics

180 notes · View notes

lomlwintersoldier · 4 years ago

Text

Break Me Down

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: sexual tension, mentions of smut, swearing, slight angst in the beginning (SMUT TO COME)

A/N: I wrote and rewrote this one a couple of times- I’m not entirely sure I’m happy with it but there will be more to come! I’m thinking 1-2 more (very smutty) parts. Enjoy :)

“Serena, please, where is this coming from?” Bucky yells, hands splayed as the brunette rushes from room to room, gathering her items and shoving them haphazardly into a duffel.

“You’re so fucking blind, Bucky,” she shoots back, venom dripping off her words.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” she hisses as she snags a flannel blanket off the couch.

“Hey, wait, that’s my favorite bla--” Bucky starts but she whirls on him, rage apparent in her eyes, and he cuts himself off. “Okay, I guess...take it....,” he mutters.

She shoves her way past him, having gathered all her things (and some of his) and stops before the front door, hand firmly grasping the knob as she turns to him, practically shaking.

“You’re in love with Y/N,” she spits, lip quivering.

“What?” He exclaims, reeling back. “No I’m n—“

“Cut the bullshit, Bucky. You don’t need to admit it to me, but at least admit it to yourself.”

“Have a nice life.” She yanks open the door and heads down the steps of his brownstone, practically leaping into the Uber she’d called for herself. Bucky still stands in his doorway, dumbfoundedly watching as the car’s tail lights disappear around the corner.

In love with Y/N? No fucking way in hell. You barely talked to or interacted with each other, only went on one or two missions together and you….you were always bringing home some other guy. There was no way he had feelings for you. Or vice versa.

Serena is long gone at this point so Bucky slowly steps back into his apartment, closing the door quietly.

In love with Y/N. He shakes his head. Serena could not be more wrong.

The next few weeks, Bucky is hyper-aware of your presence, Serena’s words echoing in his mind every time you’re in the room. He catches himself staring at you more often than would be deemed appropriate or necessary and has to force himself to look away and focus on something else, someone else. Anything else.

In the gym, during meetings with the rest of the team, hell, even during the stupid bonding activities Tony came up with every week, you’d be in his eyeline. He’d catch you in a laugh, head falling back, eyes closing as the delicious sound escaped your lips, and he’d resist the urge to laugh with you. Or sometimes he’d glance at you from across the room as you spoke to Natasha or Steve, at the way words he couldn’t hear fell from your lips, and the way you played with your hair when you were bored, or how you cocked your head to the left when you were deep in thought.

Then other times, his eyes would graze down the skin of your shoulders, bare in the tank tops you preferred to wear, to the toned muscle of your arms as they flexed and pulsed with the punches you landed so effectively on your target. His gaze would drift further downwards, sweeping over your collarbones, your hips, waist….

Then he’d force himself to look away.

The thought begins to plague him. Did he always stare at you this often? Did he simply notice you more now that Serena had pointed out some “feelings” she thought she’d picked up?

Or maybe it was that he was always staring at you, he just hadn’t been as keenly aware of it as he was now.

Either way, he wasn’t sure what to do. Granted, his relationship with Serena wasn’t exactly compatible and it was short lived, but it was his first fling with a woman since he’d been....back. He wasn’t entirely sure what to call his “return to the normal world” but she’d approached him while on a night out with Steve and Sam a few months back, strutting over in her heels and little black dress and offered her number to him. She was pretty, surely not as pretty as you but….

Shit, he thinks to himself. Maybe there’s a grain of truth to what she said.

The gym is empty as you stride inside, heading directly to the treadmill that rests in the back corner in the room. There are others closer to the door but you’ve always found comfort in solitude, in the dark, so you naturally gravitate to the most hidden corner of the room. You hop on it, setting the pace and timing of your run and then you’re off, music in your ear as you begin to run faster and faster.

When you’re finished with the treadmill, you decide to run through some training exercises, practicing on a sand punching bag, but it’s always lacking. The best opponent is human and sparring should be as is real life, but with most of the team out running missions, you make do with the training bag. You punch and you kick, hitting as hard as you know how but grow frustrated with the lack of returned blows.

You huff in annoyance as you slam the punching bag one last time, throwing it off it’s chain and across the room, just as the Winter Soldier walks past the door.

“Y/N?” He questions as he steps into the training hall, feet quiet as a mouse. “You alright?” You take a deep breath and wipe the sweat from your brow, tearing your gaze from the fallen bag to the large figure before you. “Yeah, no, I’m good. I’m good.” “You sure?” He asks as he steps towards you. “You seem frustrated.” Forcing a laugh, you shake your head and head over to your gym bag. “I’m good, just annoyed at this punching bag for crapping out on me.”

You nod towards the cylinder shape on the floor. His gaze follows yours before looking back at you, an unidentifiable expression on his face.

“Do you need help training?”

You cock your head, pondering his request, before shaking your head. “No, I’m fine. I’ll just find Nat or Steve when they get back.”

“Well, I mean....” He sets his bag down. “I’m here now.” “I’ll help you spar?” He says it like a question, unsure of how you’d react to his proposition, but a small smile crosses your face. “Okay,” you mumble. “Thanks.”

Bucky approaches you, a swagger to his step that matches the smirk on his face. His sweatpants ride low on his waist and his t-shirt is impossibly tight, but it shows off the deliciously sinewy muscles beneath the fabric, pulsing and flexing under the thin cloth. You swallow and tear your eyes away, certain that looking for any second longer would further ignite the fire you’re feeling in the pit of your stomach. You try to make yourself look busy by leaning down to tie your running shoes, although the strings are perfectly tied without any reason to check the laces.

“Are you ready?” Bucky asks, breaking you from your thoughts. Your gaze flashes up to him and you nod, tying your hair back.

“Let’s do this,” you mutter as you crouch into a defensive position, arms at your face as he advances on you. His hulking figure is surprisingly agile and quick, as he lands his first blow, but you quickly throw your arm up, catching his arm and twisting it behind his back. Not to be outdone, he grabs your waist and throws you on your back, but you easily spring back on your feet, narrowly avoiding a well aimed kick to the abdomen.

He hops back, surveying you and this time, you go on the offensive, trying to land as many blows as possible in rapid succession. He parries and blocks almost all but you land a few good punches on his cheek and stomach. A hiss escapes his lips from the pain, but he suddenly grabs your hand, mid punch, and forces you down with your neck while holding your arm, twisting it behind your back with a threat to dislocate your shoulder.

“Submit,” he whispers in your ear. Bucky pushes your arm a little further and you groan in pain. Forcing your mind and body to swim through the pain, you swiftly tear your arm from his grasp and swing your legs up, giving him a solid kick to the ribs before throwing your other leg around his neck. You move so quickly he’s taken off guard and you slam him to the ground, practically laying on top of him.

His deep blue eyes glint as you make out the situation: your chest is pressed so tightly against his that you can feel his heartbeat hammering away and you realize your leg is pinned underneath his thick thigh so even if you wanted to move, you can’t. Both of you are breathing hard. A sly smile crosses your face and you lean down to his ear, lips just centimeters away from his cheek.

“Never,” you whisper, letting your hair graze him as you lean back to look at him.

His hands come up to your waist slowly as a playful smile hints at his lips. Faster than you can respond, he rolls the both of you in one swift movement so that he’s now on top of you, his body pressed between your legs and you swear you can feel a hardness from him.

“Are you sure about that, sweetheart?” He murmurs. He has you fully pinned underneath him. Your breath mingles with his, heat pooling into your stomach, and even further down.

As if he can sense what this is doing to you, he lightly rolls his hips against you, pelvis to pelvis. A surprised moan escapes your lips when he brushes against your sensitive clit, instinctively squeezing your thighs together, but they’re stopped by the muscly slab of a man between them.

Bucky chuckles. His eyes seem to be practically staring straight through you as he leans down.

Oh god, he’s gonna kiss me, you think as he closes the distance.

Suddenly you feel harsh stubble on your neck, nuzzling against your skin and then soft lips, planting tantalizingly gentle kisses. You feel the urge to moan again but just as you’re about to open your mouth, you feel teeth on the sensitive skin of your neck, a harsh bite before he pulls away.

“Bucky!” You gasp, gripping his biceps. Laughter erupts from his muscular form as he pushes off you, sitting back on his heels; your legs remain on either side of him.

“What the hell was that?!” You exclaim as you push away from him, rising to your feet.

“What, you didn’t like it?” He steps towards you until his chest is practically touching yours. With every breath, your breasts graze his shirt, both of you staring into the others eyes. His are heated, desire darkening them so wholeheartedly that you find yourself unable to break the tension between the two of you.

“I...I didn’t say that.” You whisper, trying to quell the warmth between your thighs. He holds your gaze for a moment longer, glancing down at your lips as if he’s daring himself to kiss you.

Then he pushes away from you, that damn smirk on his face as he abruptly breaks the moment off.

“Good.”

He scoops up his discarded gym bag and starts out of the training room. “See you around, Y/N,” he calls out as he rounds the corner, disappearing down the hallway.

A frustrated huff falls from your lips as you realize what just happened. You just had the most heated, intense moment you’ve had in a long time and he just...cut it off.

That bastard.

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

Part 2

Add yourself to my taglist! | Send requests | Always open to feedback! |

Tag list: @xxchexchickxx @killpop-writes @melconnor2007 @psychicwitchphilosopher @frolicsomefawkes @the-witching-hours12-3 @bubblegumuntsr @badassbaker @trashsnitches @barnes-toddpartnersinheartbreak @thickthighedqueen @megandrawsspace @rda1989 @ailynalonso15 @cupcaitlyn96 @elyza-jeanette @bookieworm

788 notes · View notes

plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms · 4 years ago

Text

Nemesis: Retribution (3)

Summary: 10 years after the Avengers had left you for dead during a mission gone wrong, you unexpectedly re-enter their lives. Wholly unrecognizable from the person they used to know and now with a new team behind you, they ask for your help to stop a chain of syndicates who were manufacturing and peddling the super soldier serum. You were determined to say no until the chance at the vengeance you had been chasing for years was added to the offer.

Fandoms: Avengers, Marvel, MCU, The Punisher, Daredevil

Pairings: Female Reader x (Frank Castle, Billy Russo, Matt Murdock, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Pietro Maximoff)

Warnings: EVENTUAL SMUT. SHAMELESS SEXUAL BEHAVIOURS. (18+ ONLY), polyamorous relationships, reverse harem, blatant disregard for canon timelines and events, lots of angst, Punisher canon level of violence and gore, strong language, mentions of trauma, character death, fluff if you squint

A/N: We’re playing fast and loose with canon here people. Also thank you for the interactions. I love reading what you think and it helps me write the next chapters better. Also, I enjoy having someone to freak out with. Highlight of my life I swear to god. Enjoy!

No permission is granted to repost, steal, or translate my work. Not even a credit makes it okay. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

1:3 Hard Candy

Natasha stormed off the jet and into the conference room where she knew the rest of the team were waiting for them, fury radiating from her small frame. Catching sight of her target only made her grow angrier. She immediately ran up to Steve and growled up in his face causing him to immediately take a step back. Sam and Bucky were immediately alarmed, standing up to intervene and the latter's black vibranium arm whirring in preparation but Steve held up a hand to stop them.

"What the hell, Rogers? You send me on a mission with zero intel and this is what I find? Did you know?"

Steve's eyes narrowed down at her, the thick beard and longer hair adding even more to his already commanding presence. He knew exactly what Natasha was talking about and he did expect her to react this way.

"I wasn't sure, Nat. And I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up if I was wrong."

"And if you were right?" she scoffed.

Steve swallowed hard before he answered, the blue in his eyes calming considerably. "I thought the three of you deserved to be the first to know."

"What the hell is going on?" Bucky asked, arms crossed on his chest and brows deeply furrowed. They didn't even know about any mission.

Natasha chuckled humorlessly and backed off from Steve. She ran a hand through her hair, the red bleeding into the old blonde color, and gestured toward the door at the approaching people.

"Well you weren't wrong, Steve."

Shock.

That was the overall theme of the day it seemed. None of them could hardly believe that you were actually standing at the doorway. It's been ten long years and you were like the ghost haunting their dreams during that time, a pure and kind soul taken far too soon. Hell, they told stories about your selfless sacrifice to the new recruits. You had unknowingly become a legend.

A legend turned ghost story.

Now you looked more like a nightmare; dried blood caked your clothes and skin, a cold smirk lifting the corner of your lips, and a dangerous unhinged glint in your eyes.

"Well, I'll be damned," Sam breathed. "Y/N?"

"Hey, Sam," you said, the almost flirtatious lilt in your voice sending a shiver down their spines. "I go by Nemesis now."

"Nemesis?" Bucky snapped out of his daze, brows raised high and his jaw clenched, features seen clearer now with his shorter hair. "The notorious mercenary Nemesis?"

"I prefer private contractor."

While they had been honoring your memory, you had been building a ruthless reputation of your own that was widely considered on par in violence with The Punisher but with the added disturbing fact that you could be hired. Of course, no one but a select few knew who you actually were.

Until today.

Nemesis. The Greek goddess of divine retribution and revenge. A name that suited the dark avenging persona you had adapted and the only purpose you now lived for. In a twisted kind of way, you were doing the same work they were only with far less finesse and none of the righteous for the good of mankind purpose they usually had.

You shrugged, sitting yourself casually down on the nearest chair on the other end of the long table from where they stood. You have had a long night, your feet were tired and they were still looking at you with absolute confusion and disbelief. This looked like it would take a while.

You rolled your eyes as you unbuckled your stained bulletproof vest, throwing it haphazardly on the table. You hazarded a glance at each one of them as you made yourself comfortable, noting the changes in them too. The years had given way to a solemn maturity to each one, it seems things had changed for them too.

"Now that I'm here, you have 12 minutes."

"12 minutes? Until what?" Steve stammered.

He couldn't keep his eyes off you, couldn't for the life of him reconcile the person he was seeing in front of him with the person he knew. From your expressions to your movements and even to the tone of your voice, you were just so different and yet it just seemed to make you a more magnetic presence. Fresh guilt washed over him, knowing that he had failed you as your Captain. They should have kept looking for you.

"You'll see. 11 minutes now. Either ask your questions or tell me what you want."

"We all thought you were dead," Steve muttered, taken back by your hostility.

"Well that obviously didn't stick. How did you find me, Cap?"

It was Steve who found you. At first he couldn't believe it was really you, but the split second glimpse he got of your eyes from the body cam on one of the field agents weeks ago drove him to obsessively dig further. It was a shot in the dark when he sent Natasha and the twins on the mission tonight.

"By chance," he admitted. "We've been chasing a group of people suspected to be manufacturing and selling the super soldier serum. Our agents have had a few close encounters with you. I think we're going after the same people."

"So you're asking for intel?" you snorted, absentmindedly picking at the bloodstains on your sleeves.

"No," he said cautiously, wary at how relaxed yet tightly coiled you looked. "I'm offering you your spot back with the team."

You almost choked on the laugh that just escaped your lips. You couldn't help the short bark of laughter at the ridiculous proposition. Looking at their faces though it seemed that the offer was serious, although the reluctant look in their eyes at your transformation showed their inner conflict. You straightened your features and shook your head, the amused smile still on your lips.

"Look, I'm not exactly on brand for you guys anymore." You leaned forward with your arms on the table and landed your eyes squarely on Bucky's, the venom unmistakable. "Besides, I seem to recall I was deemed not cut out for this team."

Bucky felt like his soul left him at your words. There was a Molotov cocktail of emotions raging inside him; surprise, shame, relief, anger, guilt, and longing. It was killing him knowing that he had a hand in how drastically you had changed. He was deathly afraid of finding out your full story. He wanted to talk to you, wanted to beg for your forgiveness and make things right. How many chances would anyone get to redeem oneself with a ghost? He couldn't find the words though, his throat going dry and his tongue heavy in his mouth.

"Y/N, you know that's not the truth," Steve tried to insist.

"I'm not Y/N anymore and I already have a team." You waved a hand dismissively. "Also your 12 minutes are up."

All at once the power cut out in the Compound, drenching the room into darkness punctuated by the flashing emergency lights. You felt yourself get lifted off your seat and the next moment you were standing behind a formation of Avengers in the arms of the resident speedster, your arms on his chest to steady yourself from the daze of the sudden movement. His muscles were tense beneath your hands but his expression was gentle as he looked down at you.

He had wanted to rush over to you the moment you revealed your face. He wanted to hold you, jump for joy, speed around the entire city with you in his embrace. How you were alive didn't matter to him.

Only that you were.

It was only at Wanda's warning for him to stay back that he did. She showed him that you weren't the same person anymore and that they weren't sure whether you would still be friend or foe. To Pietro though, you weren't different.

You were just angry.

To him you were still his little star despite the others thinking you were closer to a supernova now. His little star was just hurting and he decided that he would do everything in his power to help you heal. He held your head tighter to his chest, intending to protect you from the anticipated danger and ready to get you to safety at a moment's notice.

"What the damn hell is going on?" Sam yelled, readying his guns.

A figure silently jumped through the window and rolled on the floor to stop right in front of the group, jolting the Avengers to defend. He stood to full height and took a fighting stance; clad in head to toe red, billy clubs at the ready, and horns glinting in the sparse light atop his head.

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

"Let Nemesis go," he growled.

Natasha stepped forward, snapping her own batons in place. The crackling of the electricity from it sent lights to dance on the menacing expression on her face. The rest of the team watched closely the other entry points, expecting more to come in and if the first was any indication then they were in for a real fight.

Footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway, loud and not at all trying to be concealed. Walking straight through the front door, were two towering men in heavy military gear each holding an assault rifle aimed at the group. The sneer on one lent a dangerous taunting aura to his surprisingly handsome features as if to say just fucking try me. While the other had a burning steely focus that instinctively made anyone back off, the emblem on his black vest told them exactly who he was.

The Punisher.

The Avengers snapped to attention, each one drawing their weapons and aiming back. The air was crackling with animosity and fingers that itched to pull their respective triggers. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the first to break the standoff in the enclosed space. Willing for someone to break it.

You laughed.

The disorientation at your reaction was palpable across the room. You patted Pietro's chest, grinning up at him in reassurance that everything was fine. He released you from his hold reluctantly and let you step out of the protective cluster they had inadvertently formed around you. The three newcomers visibly relaxed the slightest bit at the sight of you.

"Weapons down," you said calmly, eyeing each one in the room. No one budged. "All of you. Now."

Steve being the first one to lower his shield was the catalyst in diffusing what could have been the fight of the century. As outnumbered as the newcomers were, they lacked nothing in skill and precise brutality. Frank followed in lowering his weapon and soon everyone did the same. There was still tension but at least it was now reduced to intense glaring.

You tutted and shook your head as you strutted your way to your three rescuers. "What I needed was a ride home, Frankie. Not a goddamn full extraction op."

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said, not sounding at all apologetic and knowing you weren't really angry if the tired amusement on your face was anything to go by.

He smiled at you, that small open quirk at the corner of his mouth that was always accompanied by a roll of his tongue. He reached for you when you got close enough, drawing you close with a burly arm around the back of your shoulders. He kissed you on the forehead, a lingering gesture that clearly showed an intimacy between the two of you. The soft look on his face was reserved only for you and when he raised his face to the Avengers it was back to the cold threatening glare.

"Can you blame us though?" His voice came out gravelly, a favorite sound of yours. "The last time you were with these guys you were captured and tortured."

Tortured.

The word hung heavy in the air and though your back was turned, you could imagine the look on the faces of your former team. They didn't know about that yet. How could they when they had believed all this time that you died in the explosion?

"You forgot to mention blown up," Matt added, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his lips.

He removed his helmet, floppy brown hair instantly softening his persona. He peppered kisses on your palm and the inside of your wrist as he breathed in your scent to calm his own anxiety. He almost lost it when Billy had called saying that you had been taken. He was usually the last one to jump to immediate violence in your group, but the thought of you gone filled him with irrational fear. The possibility that history could repeat itself was unacceptable to him.

"I should have come with you."

"I could handle it and Billy was with me."

"Lot of good that did," he scoffed, switching to lightly biting your wrist. This wasn't unusual. Being blind, he relied on a more intense physical reassurance that everything was still as it should be.

"They weren't gonna hurt me, Matty," you argued, but it was more to help settle his nerves.

"All right, leave the foreplay for later," the last of the trio said, pulling you by your other hand closer to him.

He held you tightly by the waist and pressed you close, molding your body to his in a practiced motion. The smile on his face was scandalous and the mischief in his eyes was one that spelled trouble. The cheeky bastard winked at you before dipping his head to lay open mouthed kisses on your neck up to your ear right along your old scars. Shivers went down your spine and you couldn't help the low hum as your body reacted instinctively to him, stepping closer still until you could feel the heat of his body through his gear.

You knew exactly what he was doing. He was always the quickest to show affection in front of company, but this was a particularly golden opportunity for him to stake his claim in front of people he believed did not value you enough. Billy wouldn't be Billy if he didn't take it.

"Hey, pretty girl."

Across the room, the Avengers watched on with blatant curiosity at the apparent intimately familiar exchanges. It wasn't as much the fact that three men were bathing you with affection, but more that this cemented how far removed you were from their memory of you. They knew you as a starry-eyed recruit who stuttered at light teasing and preening at the slightest validation.

"Y/N," Steve called for you, forcing you to step away from Billy for the moment. You turned around to face them but Billy didn't let you go far, slinging his arm over your chest and this time contorting his body to yours.

"I told you, Steve. I'm not Y/N anymore," you said, a fleeting sadness flashed in your eyes before it was replaced with a firm pride. "And this is my team."

"We're taking our girl home," Frank declared, the threat underneath didn't need to be verbalized. If they took you again, it wouldn't end well for anyone.

"Wait!" Steve said urgently, halting your exit. "We'll hire you."

It was a last ditch effort. He was grasping at straws to keep you from disappearing from their lives again. He knew that if you walked out that door now there was no chance of ever getting you back. He just could not let that happen. This would only be temporary at best, but at least it would buy him time to convince you of a more permanent arrangement.

"Not interested."

"Nem." Matt as usual cautioned you from being too hasty. "Is this about the syndicates?"

You sighed. Matt was like a dog with a bone now. There was no choice but to let him chew on it. This was particularly important to him because the syndicates had been running amok in Hell's Kitchen and he was starting to find it difficult to keep his backyard clean.

"Yeah, apparently the stuff we found in the shipment yard was for making super soldier serums. The Avengers have been following the trail too."

"Why not just join forces then? We can get this done and over with a lot faster with their help," he reasoned.

"We're doing fine on our own, Matty."

"Matt has a point, sweetheart," Frank cut in. "We've been chasing this for years. I know a part of you is just itching to end all of this."

"It might help us find him faster. Do you really want to spend another ten years pulling at threads?" Matt added.

You closed your eyes, hands clenching at your sides to control your anger. It grated at you when they ganged up on you like this, but your anger was more because they were right and you knew it. You hated it, but they were right.

It was Billy who intervened, pulling you again to hug you from behind. His hold was firmer than before, aimed more to calm your shaking body. His voice came out calm, but resolute. His first priority was always making sure you were okay and you obviously weren't okay with this.

"You heard the lady. It's a no."

Frank and Matt sighed and shook their heads, but backed off. They weren't about to push you about this no matter how much they knew this would help you. They'll try again to convince you later, but they weren't optimistic. It was fortunate for them that there was more than just one stubborn person in the room.

"Please," Steve interrupted. You had almost forgotten that there were other people in the room. Almost. "We need your help. They have someone who keeps getting in our way and every time we get close he either fights us long enough for the trail to grow cold or leads us on wild goose chases. We can't let that serum be available to whoever can pay for it."

He didn't know what it was that he said that made all of your heads snap in his direction. Your eyes in particular were suddenly wild with barely restrained fury. He would take it. At least he had your attention.

"We can't let that happen, Nemesis," he finished, making sure to use your preferred name. Anything to possibly get himself into your good graces.

"Do you have a name?" you ground out.

"What?"

"A name, Steve. Do you know who this guy is?"

"By the way he fights he seems to be a merc too. Looks like military background though from where I'm not sure," he said slowly, carefully choosing his words in the hopes of you changing your mind. "He goes by Salvacion."

"We're in."

Earth's Mightiest was stunned at the sudden reversal of your decision. As firm as you had rejected the offer, you were jumping at it now with the addition of your own team.

"Let's get one thing straight though, Cap," you began, the rage still burning in your eyes like wildfire. "My team and I will work with you. It's all of us or none of us. We'll help you lock up the syndicates and destroy the serum. We'll play nice, but Salvacion is mine."

Steve took a deep breath, relieved that you had agreed but also deeply concerned at your visceral reaction to a name. He had to ask.

"Why?"

"Because that's the motherfucker who killed my sister."

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

A/N: I feel like you guys have more questions now. Come freak out with me through the comments and reblogs! I write faster when people freak out with me. It’s the truth. Now that you’ve seen our girl with ALL our strapping men, what do you think? Who are you most curious about now?

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

Series Tag List (Open - Can’t Tag Crossed Out):

@anythingwriter @kamalymaly @lazyloki @marvelfansworld @blackbirddaredevil23 @purechaosss @iloveangstposts @onesmokinbabe @jojodojo02 @spookyparadisesheep @strawb3rrydr3ss @studentdoctorstark @siriushxney @hopplessdreamer @paryl @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @writingmi @thatguppienamedbae @hxpelessxcean @waywardwifey @hotleaf-juice

Permanent Tag List (Open):

@alwaysclassyeagle @closetbtstrash @fanofalltheficsx @unlikelygalaxygiver @alyispunk @fckdeusername @milkyway-writes @dumb-ass-writer

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

714 notes · View notes

the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

Text

Plum Cobbler

Steve x Barnes!reader, Bucky x platonic!reader

Summary: What happens when Steve confronts the woman who's been sitting outside the compound every Saturday for a month?

Warnings: mentions parental death, some cursing

Word Count: 6315

a/n: This really took on a mind of its own. I was going to make it a series, but I feel like this is the whole story.

Masterlist

Nervous didn't even begin to describe how you were feeling. Sitting in your car, just outside of the entrance gate to the Avenger's compound was never somewhere you thought you'd be. Not until two months ago, when you found your grandmas old scrapbooks.

Of course, you don't know how to get inside. Honestly, you should have seen this coming. Why would just anyone be able to walk up to their door?

"Who are you?" The sudden question startled you, causing you to jump and hit your head on the roof of your car. You turned to look at the source of the voice, shrinking under her watchful gaze.

The one and only Natasha Romanoff was standing outside your car, glaring at you as if she was ready to drop everything to take you out.

"Oh, um. My name is Y/N L/N. I just wanted to talk to Bucky..." Her glare only grew stronger as you revealed why you were there.

"Barnes doesn't talk to strangers." Before you could explain why, she was gone. You watched her walk into the compound until she wasn't in your view anymore.

"Well, that went horribly." You mumbled to yourself. Now what? Should you just sit there until someone else comes out? Will anyone come out?

"So who is she?" Clint asked as soon as Nat got back inside.

"Why is she here?" Sam added on.

"Said her name is Y/N L/N, and she wants to talk to Bucky." Nat rolled her eyes.

"Friday, run a background check on F/N L/N." Tony asked of the AI. "What? You can never be too careful, and people shouldn't know how to get here." He explained given the questioning looks from the rest of the group.

"Y/N L/N, 27, daughter of the deceased Kathleen and Grant L/N. She owns a bookstore in Brooklyn, passed down through her family. No criminal record." Friday responded quickly.

"Sounds normal enough, probably a fan?" Tony suggested, looking around the room.

"A persistent one. She's been here for hours." Steve looked out the window, still seeing your car just outside the gate. "How did she find the entrance?"

Everyone shared similar looks, unsure how a seemingly normal civilian found the gate.

"Excellent question, Capsicle. Friday, got any ideas?" Tony, as usual, turned to the AI for answers.

"Based on GPS data from her car, she drove around upstate New York for eight hours every Saturday for the last 6 weeks until she came across the side road leading to the compound."

"Either she's really good at looking normal, or she's just normal." Nat added on, still slightly suspicious.

"Well, she just left. I guess we're not getting any answers today." Steve said from his position still looking out the window.

You came back every Saturday for a month. You didn't know if anything would come of it, but you'd be damned if you didn't try. After your parent's deaths, you thought you had no family left. Finding out you were related to Bucky gave you a lifeline. Something to cling to when you felt alone.

So far, nobody else had come to talk to you. You didn't even know if Bucky knew you were there for him.

The fifth Saturday, you pulled your car up to the gate at 9 am, sticking to your makeshift schedule of waiting outside for the entire day. They had to at least be curious as to why you kept coming back.

Unfortunately for you, the weather upstate today was not the same as the weather in Brooklyn.

Around 10:30, it started to rain. Just a sprinkling, nothing you couldn't handle.

You listened to music, read, ate the lunch you packed, played games on your phone, anything to pass the time. You weren't going to force your way inside, but you were definitely going to show that you were interested.

Typically, you would leave at 5:30. It gave you enough time to drive home and heat up dinner, plus you had to check in on your cat.

Today, however, was a different story. Around 5:15, it started pouring. Sheets of water were coming down around you, completely cutting off any visibility through the windshield.

You figured you'd just wait out the rain, but when it didn't let up by 6, you were getting nervous.

"She's still here." Steve walked into the kitchen, announcing his news to the room.

"I'm not surprised. It's not exactly peak driving conditions out there." Sam easily responded, glancing out the window.

"Aren't you the least bit curious as to why?" Steve asked again, pushing the same conversation as always.

Nearly everyone in the room rolled their eyes, sick of repeating the same things.

"Look, we figured if we ignored her, she'd eventually stop. Clearly, that might not be working. If you're so curious, feel free to go ask her." Tony gave in, eager to move on from the discussion of you.

Steve contemplated his choices for all of 2 seconds before grabbing an umbrella and walking down the driveway.

You had your head leaned back against the headrest, eyes closed, listening to the rain. Of course you would get stuck here. Why didn't you ever check the weather?

You shrieked when a knock sounded on your passenger side window, not having expected anyone, especially in the rain.

Mr. America himself pointed to the door, gesturing for you to unlock it. You sat up quickly, rushing to hit the unlock button.

He quickly opened the door, shutting his umbrella and lowering himself into the small car.

You were utterly speechless. After your brief encounter with Natasha, you didn't really expect anyone to come talk to you.

Sure, you came back every week, but it was more so to fill the lonely hours you would have normally spent with your parents at the bookstore.

You had other employees to run the shop on Saturdays, allowing you to come here instead.

"Why are you here?" He sounded more curious than anything. Clearly he didn't perceive you as a threat, which was good because you had zero fighting experience.

"To talk to Bucky." Your voice was quiet, unsure how much you should share.

"I know that. Why?" He had fully turned in his seat to look at you, his large frame filling nearly the entire car.

"Well, I found something a few months ago that I thought he should know." You stuttered through your response, mildly intimidated by the man in front of you.

"And that something is?" He questioned further, genuinely curious as to what you want to tell his best friend.

You hesitated, eyes flitting around the car, looking at anything but him. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair before speaking again.

"Look, if you ever want to actually talk to him, you should tell me. Buck's been through hell, he won't just talk to anyone. Especially if he has no reason to."

During your conversation, the rain finally let up. You decided to take that as a sign.

"Can I show you something?" You finally looked him in the eye, nearly forgetting why you were even here at the sight of his bright blue eyes.

"Is it the reason you've been out here every Saturday for over a month?" He joked with you, helping to calm your nerves.

You nodded in response, unsure if you could even speak while still looking into his eyes.

"Then please."

You tore your eyes from his face, throwing the car into reverse and backing out of the spot you've claimed as your own. You turned around, heading back to your apartment in Brooklyn.

"Wha- where are we going?" He's clearly surprised by your actions, but he doesn't seem worried.

"I'm going to show you what I found, and hopefully you'll let me talk to Bucky." You paused for a minute, thinking. "Although, really I guess it should be his choice. Maybe you can just give him a message for me, and if he doesn't want to talk I'll leave you all alone."

The idea of never getting to know Bucky, you're only remaining family, hurts, but it's got to be his decision.

Steve just nods in response, still slightly wary of your reasons for wanting to talk to Bucky.

When you're a few minutes away from your apartment, you decide to give him some context.

"You probably already know a lot about me, but let me explain a few things." He silently nods, encouraging you to continue.

"My parents died three and a half months ago." You immediately felt like crying, but did your best to hold it in. Of course, Steve didn't miss the break in your voice. "It was a car accident. The weather was bad. They lost control of the car. They were both pronounced dead on the scene." You parked the car, turning slightly to look at him.

"They were the only family I've ever had, and the were both just gone." You turned and opened the car door, taking a moment to wipe the tears from your eyes. You gestured for him to follow you, locking the car and heading inside your apartment building.

"We were really close. I spent every Saturday at the bookstore with them." You wiped the tears again as the elevator doors closed.

You didn't chance looking at Steve, knowing you would break down at the look of pity.

"I had to go through the stuff at their house. You know, decide what to bring here, what to put in storage, what to get rid of. I found some old scrapbooks, I think from my great grandma."

You lead him into your apartment, locking the door and immediately heading to the kitchen to feed your cat. After you set down the food, you moved to the couch. You had the scrapbooks on the coffee table, having taken every opportunity to look through them.

"I never knew her. My parents didn't talk about her either, I'm not sure if they knew who she was. Her name was Rebecca." You waited a beat, to see if he would understand. When he remained quiet, you handed him one of the books, open to a page with a picture of Steve, Bucky, and Rebecca. "Rebecca Barnes."

You waited again, letting the information sink in for him. After a few minutes he smiled.

"I remember this day." He looked at you, a wide smile on his face. "It was a few days before Bucky was enrolled. We had a picnic." He continued to reminisce, looking through the other pictures in the scrapbook.

"Maybe it's selfish, maybe he won't want to know me, but when I found out I had more family, I wanted to find him." Again, tears pooled in your eyes. "I, I just don't want to be alone."

Steve's smile faltered as he realized what you've been going through, and how you've been doing it alone.

"Hey, I'm sure he'll want to talk to you." He reached out to place a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you.

"Really?" Your eyes were still watery, but a small smile grew on your face.

"I think so. Bucky was really close with his sister when we were young." This time, Steve's eyes grew watery, memories of his youth playing through his mind.

You couldn't take the sight of him being sad, so you pulled him into a hug. He came willingly, letting you bury your face in his chest. He lowered his head so it was overtop of yours, relishing in the comfort of your hug.

You pulled away a few minutes later, not wanting to overstep, but the feeling of his arms around your waist didn't let you go far.

"Thank you for coming out to my car." You laughed, trying to lighten the mood. His face was so close to yours, you could make out the individual shades of blue in his eyes.

"Thank you for sharing your story with me." He whispered back, not wanting to break the moment.

You're not sure how long you would've stayed like that, but a loud crack of thunder jolted you apart.

"What the-" You mumbled, walking over to the window to look outside. Steve followed close behind you, also curious about the weather.

It was now pouring, lightning and thunder cracking overhead.

"I guess the storm followed us to Brooklyn." He joked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I guess so." You looked at the clock, taking in the late hour.

Steve must've followed your line of sight, because he spoke up. "It's getting late, I should probably go."

You immediately shook your head, your fear of travelling in bad weather shining through. "I can't let you leave when it's like this. It's not safe. You, um, you can stay here tonight. You can sleep in my room. I'll sleep on the couch." You grew more confident as you kept talking.

"I couldn't impose like that." Steve shook his head, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"Steve, it's not safe to travel when it's raining like that. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you." Your voice grew tighter, trying not to flashback to the day your parents died.

Steve seemed to realize why you were so worried about the weather, ultimately deciding to agree to stay so you wouldn't worry about him.

"Okay, okay. I'll stay here, but you sleep in your bed. I'll be fine on the couch." He refused your offer, not wanting to force you to spend a night on the couch.

"First of all, thank you. Second of all, you are sleeping in the bed. You're like two feet taller than me." You exaggerated your height difference, but you were trying to make a point. "You won't even be able to lay down on the couch. I take naps here all the time, it's super comfortable." You argued back, unwilling to allow Captain America himself sleep on your tiny ass couch.

"You know, I should've expected you to be this stubborn. You spent five weeks waiting outside the compound with no contact. Plus you're related to Bucky" He laughed to himself, slightly shaking his head. "Fine, I'll sleep in the bed."

You smiled victoriously, jumping up from the couch. "Yay! Do you need anything? I have spare toothbrushes under the sink, and I can probably find you some clothes to sleep in. There's some snacks in the kitchen if you get hungry. Oh! And Carrot might try to lay in the bed with you, but I'll try to keep her out here." You rambled, trying to make sure he was comfortable.

"Carrot?" He smiled at your rambling, finding it adorable.

"Yes! Carrot is my cat. She's a cuddler, so consider yourself warned." You paused, eyes growing wide. "You're not allergic to cats are you? I think there's probably cat fur all over my room."

He laughed again. "No, I don't think the super soldier serum left any room for allergies." He quipped.

You smacked a hand to your forehead. "Duh! Anyway, do you need anything?" You asked again, trying to calm your beating heart.

"Some clothes would be great, thank you." The way he smiled at you did nothing to soothe your nerves.

"Okay." You breathed out, finally taking a deep breath. "I'll go grab some, the bathroom is right here if you need it." You pointed it out on your way to your room. "I'm just gonna get changed real quick, and then I'll be back with your clothes."

He nodded again, watching as you turned and walked into what must be your room.

You quickly changed into a t-shirt and sleep shorts. It took a few minutes of searching through boxes, but eventually you found an old pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt for Steve to sleep in.

You made your way out of the bedroom, handing him the clothes.

"Here ya go. Like I said, there are extra toothbrushes under the sink in the bathroom, and don't hesitate to grab anything you need from the kitchen."

He eyed the clothes in his hands, wondering where they came from, but not wanting to ask.

Luckily for him, you could tell what he was wondering. "They were my dad's." A sad smile graced your face. "I- I sleep in them sometimes when I really wish I could talk to him."

"Thank you." Steve turned to go to bed, but changed his mind last minute. He set the clothes down on the couch, pulling you into another hug. "You know, I can tell your related to Buck. He always looks out for people too."

You blushed at the compliment, grateful he couldn't see your face. "Thank you, that really means a lot." You stayed like that until Steve pulled back to talk to you again.

"I can take you back to the compound tomorrow, if you want. Maybe introduce you to Bucky."

"Really?! You don't want to talk to him first? Or double check anything I told you?" You were shocked at how willing he was to introduce you to Bucky.

"I trust you. Plus, I think you should be the one to tell him." Steve didn't say it out loud, but he also thought you and Bucky would be good for each other.

Bucky had Steve to connect his past and present, but another person for him to rely on wouldn't hurt. And you clearly were looking for a family connection.

"I would love to. Thank you!" You hugged him again, although quicker this time. You jumped back, excited to collect everything you wanted to show him. "I have to find all the scrapbooks to show him!"

When you turned to start collecting things, Steve put a hand on your shoulder, essentially preventing you from moving.

"Why don't we get everything together in the morning? It's getting late and you should get some sleep." He understood how emotionally and physically draining it could be to relive a loss like yours.

"You're right. I should sleep." You tried to slow your mind down, but the prospect of meeting Bucky tomorrow filled you with a mix of excitement and nerves. You gathered your extra blankets and pillows, setting up a bed for yourself on the couch while he went into the bathroom.

You were snuggled in bed, ready to sleep when he came back out.

"Goodnight, Steve."

His heart contracted at how adorable you looked buried in blankets on the couch, but he did his best to ignore it. He'd only just met you after all.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

The next morning Steve woke up at 5, per usual. He didn't want to wake you up though, so, despite his natural tendencies to run 10 miles every Sunday morning, he stayed in bed.

That is, until he heard you shuffling around the apartment.

He poked his head out of the room first, trying to verify that you were indeed awake. When he saw you in the kitchen, he fully emerged intent on helping you with whatever you were doing.

"Good morning, you're an early riser?" His question was completely ignored. Granted you couldn't see him yet, but he didn't know why you would be ignoring him.

He made his way closer to you, tapping you on the shoulder to try and get you to interact with him.

You, in a mixture of surprise and fear, turned and threw an egg at him.

He looked at you in shock, while you stared in horror at what you had just done.

You took headphones out of your ears, explaining why you hadn't heard his question.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" You reached toward him with a dish towel, trying to wipe the egg off his (your dad's) shirt. "You just surprised me! I can get you another shirt!"

"It's fine, don't worry-" You ran out of the room anyway, grabbing another shirt of your dad's from the box in your room.

He couldn't help but laugh, oddly relieved that you weren't ignoring him.

When you reentered the kitchen, a shirtless Steve Rogers was washing your dad's shirt in the sink. You froze, taking in the sight of the man before you.

When he turned back around, your eyes took on a mind of their own, soaking in his toned chest and arms. You cleared your throat, shaking yourself out of your stupor to hand him the other shirt.

"Thanks." He smirked, but still blushed slightly before he put it on, ringing out the other shirt before handing it to you. "I didn't want the egg to stick to it since it was your dads, so i rinsed it off..." he trailed off, unsure if it was the right thing to say.

"That's really sweet, thank you. Especially because it was my fault there was even egg on it in the first place." You laughed, trying not to blush with embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it, really. I shouldn't have snuck up on you." He laughed as well, clearing any lingering tension. He took a look around the kitchen, taking in just how much stuff you had out.

"What are you making?" He smiled when you blushed again.

"Oh, I was making plum cobbler... I just, I read online that Bucky likes plums, so I thought I would bring him a cobbler." You blushed again, embarrassed by the admission.

"He does." Steve smiled, completely enamoured with your personality. "Did you want some help?"

"Actually, the cobblers are in the oven already. I was going to make breakfast next, though, so you can help with that." You smiled, noting how easy it was to spend time with him.

"Cobblers? I know Bucky's a super soldier, but one would have been plenty." He joked with you, moving to help scramble some eggs.

"Well, yeah. One is for him, but then I thought the other Avengers might be there and I didn't want to not have enough so I made three."

"You're too cute." The words slipped out before he could even think about what he was saying.

You blushed again, a frequent occurrence it seems when you're with Steve.

You uttered a quick thanks, trying to change the subject. "Do you always get up this early?"

He chuckled again. "Yeah, typically I don't need much sleep. I usually run in the mornings, try to clear my head."

The two of you fell into easy conversation, moving around each other effortlessly to make eggs, sausage, toast, and smoothies for breakfast.

When you finished eating, you collected the scrapbooks Bucky might want to see. You added his mom's wedding ring, the one your mom wore as well, to the box.

"What's that?" Steve pointed to the box, unsure if his assumption was correct.

You pulled out two scrapbooks, pointing to the near identical pictures of Bucky's mom and your mom after having been proposed to.

"My mom always told me her engagement ring was a family heirloom. I think it was his mom's ring too. I thought he might like to have it. As something to remember her by, ya know?"

You got teary eyed again. Thinking about how much he must miss his family combined with how much you miss your own parents was too much to handle.

You finished gathering everything, putting it all in a box to make for easier transportation. You took the cobblers out of the oven, packing them as well.

With a deep breath, you followed Steve back out to your car, ready to talk to Bucky.

"Where the hell is Steve?" Bucky nearly stormed into the kitchen.

"Whoa, calm down tinman. What's up?" Sam replied casually, pouring cereal into a bowl.

"Where is Steve? I was supposed to run with him this morning, but he wasn't in his room when I went to find him. I don't even like running this early. I literally only do it because it's what he prefers."

Sam laughed, enjoying anything that annoys Bucky. "Dude, chill. He probably just forgot you were going with him."

Tony walked into the kitchen as well, trying to tune out the whines coming from Bucky, but failing.

"That's what I though, but he's always back by now." Bucky huffed, annoyed with Sam for laughing.

"Who?" Tony asked, now slightly intrigued.

"Steve. I haven't seen him since yesterday." Bucky replied as he angrily ate an apple.

"Really?" Tony sounded mildly concerned, immediately alerting Sam and confusing Bucky.

"You don't think?" Sam asked, ignoring Bucky for the time being.

"I don't know!" Tony looked bewildered. "Friday, where is Capsicle?"

"Captain Rogers left yesterday evening with Y/N L/N." The AI easily replied.

"Who?" Bucky questioned the room, never having learned your name.

"You know the woman who's been sitting outside every Saturday?" Bucky nodded to Sam, unsure why he was bringing it up. "Well, Steve went to ask her why she was here last night."

"Nat told me she was just some fan, wanted to see you all." Bucky furrowed his brow, thinking over the new information on Steve's wearabouts.

"Well, yeah that's what we thought. Look, she said she wanted to talk to you specifically." Sam explained, ignoring the pointed glare from Tony.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" Bucky rose from his chair, annoyed at everyone now. "Now she's got Steve?"

"Relax, Steve can handle himself. She cleared her background check. We really don't have any reason to believe he's in danger." Tony's words were more to convince himself than anyone else. He's the one who said Cap should go check it out if he was so curious.

"Steve's too trusting. What if it was a trap?" Bucky questioned, glaring daggers at the other two men.

Before they could respond, Friday chimed in with more information.

"Captain Rogers just entered the elevator from the parking garage."

"See, he's fine." Tony glared back at Bucky, secretly relieved that Steve was fine.

Bucky just rolled his eyes before leaving, heading for the elevators to yell at Steve for ditching him this morning.

When the elevator doors opened, however, Steve was not alone.

"Hey, punk, why'd you ditch me- Oh. Who are you?" Bucky eyed you suspiciously, looking between you and Steve.

Before Bucky interrupted, Steve was trying to reassure you that everything would work out. He had a hand on your back, rubbing up and down to soothe your nerves.

His other arm was occupied by the box of scrapbooks, or else he probably would have hugged you again.

You were holding a large sheet pan, three pie dishes sitting on top.

Steve was blushing, a surefire sign Bucky had seen something he wasn't supposed to.

"Oh, um. Hi. My name is Y/N L/N." You froze, not thinking you would have to see him so soon. You could see the family resemblance between him, your great grandma, and your mom.

"The car girl." He nodded, trying to piece together the events of last night.

"Yep, that's me." You laughed nervously, unsure of what he already knew.

"Buck, do me a favor? Let us out of the elevator." Steve eyed him, mildly annoyed with the ambush.

Bucky moved to the side, allowing you and Steve to exit the elevator. You followed Steve down the hall to the kitchen, where you put the cobblers on the counter.

Sam and Tony were still there, eating various foods.

"Well, hello there." Tony greeted when he spotted you, intrigued by the development. He looked at Steve for an explanation.

"Y/N made plum cobbler." Steve said instead, moving his hand back to the small of your back.

Bucky's eyes lit up at the mention of plums, enough to momentarily distract him from Steve's actions.

"Oh, right!" You took a cobbler out of the dish, moving toward Bucky. "This one's for you, because I read that you liked plums." You handed him the dish, quickly moving back to the others. "I also made a peach and an apple for everyone else." You smiled at Tony and Sam, unknowingly leaning slightly into Steve.

"Why does he get a special cobbler?" Sam whined, eagerly reaching for the other dishes.

Suddenly, all eyes were on you. Well, except Sam's who were on the peach cobbler.

"Oh, um, well, I was hoping I could talk to you." You looked at Bucky nervously, unsure of how he would respond.

"Anyone who bakes me a plum cobbler can talk to me, Doll." Natasha chose that exact moment to enter the room.

"Who made plum cobbler?" She looked around the room, eyes narrowing in your direction. "How did you get in here?"

"I brought her." Steve smiled at you before walking over to Natasha. He whispered in her ear, just loud enough for her to hear, but nobody else. "She's not a threat to your relationship, trust me."

Nat nodded her head, trusting Steve, although not for the reasons he thought. She could clearly see the blonde's affinity for you.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Bucky asked between bites of cobbler.

"It's really a private conversation." Steve answered for you, seeing how unsure of yourself you were.

"Then why do you know, punk?" Bucky countered.

"Well, I had to tell someone so I could finally talk to you. Steve's the one who asked." You smiled at Steve again, trying to convey how grateful you were with just a look.

Steve smiled back at you, while everyone in else just shared a knowing look.

Eventually, Steve cleared his throat. "Buck, can you just come with us?"

Bucky nodded, moving to follow Steve while still eating the cobbler. You followed the two of them as well, growing more nervous with each step.

Steve lead you to his room, placing the box of scrapbooks on the bed.

"Do you want me to stay?" Steve looked to you for an answer.

You took a deep breath, in all honestly you would love for him to stay, but you think you should probably just talk to Bucky first.

"No, that's okay. Come back in like, 30 minutes?" You scrunched up your face, unsure if 30 minutes was long enough, but knowing you would need the deadline if you were ever going to explain it all to Bucky.

Steve nodded, squeezing your shoulder as he passed you to leave the room.

"Um," you turned to Bucky, trying to think of where to start. "I don't know what you already know about me, but-"

"Nothing really. Except that you make a delicious plum cobbler." He smiled, helping to ease your nerves. Food really was the way to this man's heart.

"Oh, I guess I'll start where I started when I told Steve." You smiled at the mention of his name, unaware of your own actions. But Bucky noticed.

"My parents died a few months ago." Bucky's eyes went wide, trying to think of what this could have to do with him. "Um, it was a car accident. They both died on the scene." You took a deep breath, trying to push through the sad parts.

"I had to clean out their house, and I found some scrapbooks that lead me to you." You shifted closer to the bed, looking through the scrapbooks you brought.

You pulled out the one with the first picture you showed Steve, opening it and gesturing for Bucky to take it.

He set the cobbler on Steve's nightstand, cautiously reaching for the book. He looked at the picture for a long time before saying anything. And when he did talk, it was a whispered "Becca..."

He ran his fingers over the picture slowly, just staring. A few minutes later, he eagerly flipped the page. He spent a good 10 minutes just looking through all the books you handed him.

"Where did you get these?" He questioned, although not accusingly.

"I found them in my parents house. They were with a bunch of my grandma's stuff that she had from her mom." You wanted to ease him into it.

"So your great grandma..." He trailed off, disbelief clear across his face.

"Was Rebecca Barnes." You finished the sentence for him, nerves clear in your voice.

You weren't sure what to say next, so you waited for him to make the next move.

"So you're my... great-grand niece?" You nodded at his question, still unsure if he was happy with the news. "God, that makes me feel old."

You nearly cackled, surprised by the joke. He smiled when you laughed, glad to have cleared some of the tension.

"Why did you want to find me?" He questioned, the mood turning more serious again.

"Well, I was really close to my parents. They were the only family I had. When I found out you are family too, I just... I knew I needed to at least tell you." You shrugged at the end, unsure if you really answered his question.

"You wanted to tell me so badly that you sat outside the compound every Saturday for five weeks even after being ignored?" He was in shock that anyone would spend that much time and effort just to talk to him. You started panicking immediately.

"I'm so sorry if you didn't want to know! It was selfish of me to force this on you. I can go, if you want. You don't have to talk to me." You started questioning everything. You moved to put the books back in the box when he stopped you.

"Oh, um. I'm sorry, you can keep those. If you want!" Tears were threatening to fall down your cheeks when you remembered the ring. You froze with your hand in the box, not knowing if you'd want to part with it knowing you'd never see Bucky again.

"Y/N..." Something in the way he said your name made you look at him. "I- I'm glad you told me. Really glad. I, uh, I never thought I would have family, well besides Steve. You know what I mean." He ran a hand through his hair, and you noticed the tears in his eyes.

"I don't want you to go. It's just hard for me..." he paused, trying to figure out his emotions. "It's hard to believe that someone would care about me that much."

"Bucky, I don't know you." He frowned at your statement. "But, I would love to get to know you." You smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.

"I'm not so sure you would." His face was hard, staring at the ground.

"Bucky, you aren't a bad person. I mean, sure you've done bad things, but it wasn't your choice. You were forced to do those things. You can't let yourself be defined by them. You're here aren't you?"

"Here?" He questioned.

"Working with the Avengers, I mean. You go on missions to help save people. That's your choice. That's who you are. I would be honored to get to know that person."

You smiled, waiting for him to say something.

"Are you sure?" He still looked unsure.

"God, maybe I get my stubbornness from you." You both laughed at that. "I am 100% sure."

"Wow." He shook his head, still in shock.

A knock sounded on the door before Steve came back in. "Is now a good time?" He asked, still standing in the doorway.

You nodded appreciatively. "Thank you." You pulled him into a hug, needing the emotional support.

"Of course. I'm happy I could help." He rubbed your back, reciprocating the hug. "Did you give him the ring yet?" He asked when you took a step back.

You shook your head, reaching into the box for the last item. "I, um, I thought you might want this." You handed him the box, nerves peaking through again.

He opened it, a soft smile on his face when he recognized it. "My mom's engagement ring."

You smiled, happy that he recognized it. "It was my mom's as well."

The two of you stared a the ring for awhile, reminiscing on time spent with your parents.

Eventually, Bucky picked the cobbler back up, not wanting to let it go to waste.

Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes at his friend. "Wow, jerk. You're just gonna go back to eating."

"Yes, punk. My great-grand niece made me a plum cobbler, and I tend to fully enjoy it."

"Great-grand niece. Ha, that makes you sound so old."

It was fun for you to see the two interacting like this, especially after the emotional hurdles you just ran.

"It's fine, Stevie. Let him enjoy the cobbler." Your face went red, not having meant to use the nickname.

"Yeah Stevie, let me enjoy the cobbler." Bucky couldn't help but poke fun, knowing there was an unspoken attraction between the two of you.

Somehow your face got even redder. Steve just rolled his eyes.

"Fine, eat your cobbler. Only because I had some of the apple one and it was delicious. It would be a shame to waste any."

You smiled at the compliment, embarrassment subsiding a bit. Steve sat down on the bed between you and Bucky, eager to ask his friend about some of the pictures. Steve put his arm around you, squeezing your shoulder as he spoke to Bucky.

You felt your eyes growing heavy, exhausted since your nerves kept you up most of the night. You rested your head on Steve's shoulder, soaking in his warmth as you cuddled closer.

Steve just rubbed your arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Bucky narrowed his eyes at the interaction, realization dawning on his face.

"Oh my god. My best friend likes my great-grand niece. And she likes him." He said it so matter of fact, the two of you didn't bother denying it. You just smiled, and cuddled closer together.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x natasha #bucky barnes x natasha romanoff #tony stark #sam wilson #steve rogers #bucky barnes #marvel fic #clint barton #Bucky Barnes x platonic!reader

644 notes · View notes

kilikina34512 · 2 years ago

Text

Like Father, Like Son

I have discovered that a fun way to waste some time while stuck with a cold is to write a drabble. I remembered the scene from TFATWS where Sam and Bucky are having the staring contest at the police station and it spurred this idea. I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader, Sam Wilson x OFC (Jessa) Summary: One argument between Sam and Bucky's sons show just how much like their fathers they really are. Warnings: One swear word Word Count: 877

The hot Louisiana sun shone through the shade of the trees that surrounded Sarah's house. While it hadn't been long since you had been there for the fourth of July celebration they had every year, the Wilsons were basically family and you often got together on the weekends to cook out, especially during the summer.

You loved these days. Sam and your husband, Bucky, had slowed down on the "saving the world" gig and were more consultants and trainers to the newer generation of heroes. Not that you or Bucky minded. He had been overly ready to step back from fighting and you were relieved to not have to worry that you'd get an unwanted visit from Sam at the end of a mission.

The two men had become best friends, although they'd still never admit it. They were as close as each had been with Steve, but their friendship was vastly different than the one they'd had with the original Captain America. Despite always having each other's backs, seeking the other's advice, and doing things together, the pair still had moments of strong disagreements, poking and prodding at one another, and even the famous "staring contest" whenever neither wanted to back down or admit they were wrong. And thanks to your husband's natural broodiness, his staring game was always on point.

As you were witnessing currently from the picnic table you were sat at with Sam's sister.

"They at it again?" Jessa, Sam's wife, asked as she came to sit down beside Sarah.

"Sure are," you confirmed. "I keep waiting for the day one of them actually shoots lasers out of their eyes or kills the other with the strength of their glare."

Sarah chuckled, "If that ever happened, they'd be broken hearted, but they'd never show it." All three of you knew how they worked and you'd all grown used to it. Sarah was Sam's brother after all, Jessa had been married to him for eighteen years, and you and Bucky had been married for twenty years. "What's it about this time?"

"The proper way to cook a steak."

"God, I'm so tired of hearing that one," Jessa complained. "It's all he'll talk about on the way home."

"I'll give you that," you said, "but Bucky's broodiness is like an aura of its own and it makes the ride annoying because he's not going to complain until we're in bed. I'd rather hear the argument and be done with it personally."

"Good point," she conceded.

"I don't envy either of you. I enjoy not having to hear it now that Sam doesn't live here," Sarah smiled as you both glowered good naturedly in her direction.

Voices rising from near the water drew your attention away from the pair of grilling Avengers and to the two sixteen-year-old boys who looked to be in their own heated argument. Your eyebrows furrowed as you redirected Jessa's gaze in the same direction before rising and making your way over to see what was happening. As you got closer, you heard bits and pieces of what was being said before you finally just called out over them, "Boys, what's going on?"

"He asked Tara if she'd go out for a ride on their family boat with him when he knows I've been trying to get with her!"

"Dude, she asked me to go out with her! It's not my fault you can't keep a girl!"

"Fuck you!"

"Grant," you chided sternly, "don't you dare use that kind of language, especially not to your family!"

The other teenager opened his mouth, but before a word could escape his lips, Jessa walked up beside you. "I know you're not about to respond to that Steven," she warned. You and Jessa had gotten pregnant around the same time and much to both of yours's dismay, both men had wanted to name their sons after their first best friend. Many arguments had been had until it had been agreed that whoever was born first would be named Steven and the latter would be Grant. Sam and Jessa had Steven six weeks before your son Grant had been born. The two grew up together to the point of calling each other cousins, so to see a girl coming between them surprised you, even if it wasn't uncommon for boys to fight over them.

"Mom," Steven whined, "Grant is being a baby about this as if he can't handle a little competition."

"I can handle the competition," your son responded quickly, his face red with indignation, "I'll have her with me at the summer party next weekend."

Steven chuckled, sounding exactly like his own father, despite the serious expression on his face. "You won't even get a chance to ask her 'cause she'll already be going with me."

"Bring it on, Steve." Your son began to glare at Steven. The boy was a carbon copy of his father from head to toe, and the brooding glare he adopted as he crossed his arms was just like his father's. Steven had picked up his own glare with crossed arms pose, his feet spread as his cockiness rose.

You looked back at the grill to see their fathers in the exact same pose as their sons before sighing in exasperation. You shared a look with Jessa before admitting, "Maybe they're more like their fathers than we thought."

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #sam wilson #sam wilson x ofc #sam and bucky staring contest #kili stories

49 notes · View notes

mochie85 · 3 years ago

Text

Positions

Chapter 6 of my Mayari series.

Mayari Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: While you're making breakfast for the team, Loki finally decides to make a move. A/N: This is the one that started it all. It started my writing journey and inspired me to write the rest of this series. I had never thought to put my feelings and imagination on paper/keyboard before. This is the final draft of my first post, which you can find here. I changed some things, polished it a bit, and added a different ending. Let me know in the comments which version you liked better. *This entire series is inspired by songs. The complete playlist could be found here on Spotify. Word Count: Over 1.6k Warnings: Fluff with humor.

‘Heaven sent you to me. I’m just hopin’ I don’t repeat history.’

You weren’t usually the first one up in the morning. Sam and Steve would routinely go out for their morning run by 7. Tony would be in his lab, along with Bruce, inventing the next great technology for mankind, you’re sure. That is if they even slept the night before. Usually, Vision would be there as a soundboard for the two to bounce ideas off of.

Yet this morning, he is here with Wanda helping you cook breakfast for the team. It’s a usual tradition every Sunday that you had inadvertently started. FRIDAY was usually blasting music through the speakers and you loved dancing and singing while cooking. You marveled at Tony’s state-of-the-art kitchen. You would never have had this back home.

Granted, you had a village back home where the people often made offerings to you and your sister, the two deities who reside on the floating island. Now and then, you did come down to be with the people of the village. You found that people either stayed away from the fear of you or got closer to worshiping you and your sister. And it was one of these followers where you had learned to cook. You had missed that family connection with your sister being so far away.

So one Sunday, when you were making yourself a traditional breakfast from back home; scrambled eggs, garlic fried rice, and Longanisa, Wanda had stumbled in sniffing the air like a cartoon following the enticing scent of your cooking. You had made plenty to share, so you made her a plate to join you. Soon after, people trickled in to investigate where the aroma was coming from. A home-cooked meal, I guess, is a novelty around here.

You shared whatever you had left and promised to make more the next week. And boy did they keep you to that promise. You had made eggs, bacon, and pancakes. In another week, you had prepped an omelet-making station the day before so everyone could get custom omelets.

Word must’ve gotten out because soon, you were seeing new people join you on Sundays. Peter loved your blueberry muffins and would try to sneak some out with his backpack. Scott and Hope were visiting one time and you had made your traditional breakfast again for them. They said it reminded them of home in the Bay Area where they would frequent this tiny mom-and-pop restaurant.

You considered food to be your love language. Surely it was okay to feel a little pride and selfishness when the team complimented you on your cooking.

‘Boy, I’m tryna meet your mama on a Sunday. Then make a lotta love on a Monday.’

So here you were in front of a giant grill standing next to Wanda. She oversaw the eggs, and you were cooking the bacon. Vision was juicing oranges on the island counter behind you two. You loved spending time with the two of them. It was heartwarming to watch the two of them together, talking, hugging, or looking at each other when the other wasn’t watching. It gave you hope that one day you could find someone that looks at you the way Vision looks at Wanda.

It was nearing eight and people were starting to trickle in from various places of the tower. You grabbed a slice of bread from the counter behind you, slathered some butter, and slapped it on the grill to toast it.

“Do you want some toast?” You asked Wanda.

“Nah, I’m gonna wait for the pancakes. Thanks”

“I can get started on those pancakes if you want?” Sam offered walking in from his run with Steve. As he washed his hands, you pulled the toast from the grill and heard Thor exclaim, “Smells delicious. I cannot wait for this feast.”

Thor and Loki had walked in wearing light armor. So they must’ve just gotten back from training downstairs. And if your eyes had stayed a little too much longer on Loki, you can’t be blamed. He had his hair tied in a small bun. And you can just imagine grabbing that bun lose while you kiss him feverishly. As if he could read your thoughts, he looked up at your eyes and you sheepishly looked away. Shit, I got caught.

“Well you’re going to have to wait just a little bit longer,” you said recouping from your ordeal. You took a bite of your toast, leaving it in your mouth so that your hands could be free to plate the bacon you had been cooking.

‘Switchin’ the positions for you.’

You turned to put the plate on the table but were stopped by Loki standing in front of you. He gingerly took the plate from your hands and, mischievously, bent down and took a bite off the toast that had been hanging from your lips. He gave you a wink, as he chewed. He spun around and made his way to the table a smug grin growing on his face.

‘Cookin’ in the kitchen and I’m in the bedroom.’

You were frozen in place, not sure what had happened. His face had been so close to yours that the tips of your noses nearly touched. The heat had crept up your whole body. The toast almost fell from your lips, but you caught it in time before it fell to the floor. You turned back to the grill embarrassed hoping to hide your blush from any onlookers that might’ve caught the exchange, but Sam had already taken your place on the grill to make the pancakes.

You wondered if anyone had seen what just happened? What do you do? Do you say something? Do you keep quiet? God, why can’t I be cool or witty and come up with something awesome to say. Trying to recover, you made your way to the island counter to help Vision with the juice.

‘Know my love infinite, nothin’ I wouldn’t do. That I won’t do, switchin’ for you.’

“Did you see that?” Sam asked Wanda quietly. “Mhmm,” she grinned. Sam chuckled, “I can’t wait to tell Buck.”

“Brother,” Thor whispered to Loki. “Leave her be.” “I don’t think I want to. I like seeing her reactions to my teasing,” Loki responded.

“Then you better do something soon. She’s resourceful and brave in battle. Very worthy attributes that are sought out by many. Especially here in the tower.” Thor said, sneaking a piece of bacon into his mouth.

“I am looking for a companion, not a war general. Wait, who else has noticed her?”

“Who else is unattached?”

“I don’t care about the personal lives of the people on this team, how should I know who has a significant other?” Everyone seemed like an enemy suddenly, coming to take what was his. He looked at you then, on the kitchen counter helping Vision juice some oranges. The beautiful blush had crept up your neck and was still on your dimpled cheeks. Is it that android? Loki wondered. Just then, Wanda had looked up at Vision smiling and he bent down to kiss her. Ok, not Vision.

People started to rally around the dining table. Some went to help with the cooking. Others went to pour some coffee. Loki eyed each one of them suspiciously.

“Agent Barton?” Loki murmured to Thor.

“Has a wife and three kids,” Thor answered.

“Really?!” Loki said incredulously. He eyed Bruce getting coffee. “Banner?”

“No! I mean, really brother! This is why you need to start socializing.”

“I’m not one for gossip.” Unless it helps me in any way. He then saw Tony climbing down the stairs from his lab. Loki let out a disgruntled sigh. “Oh Norns, it’s not Stark, is it?”

“No! He has Lady Pepper.” Thor strained quietly, grabbing another piece of bacon and putting it into his mouth. “I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned me yet.” He said with a wink and a smirk.

If looks could kill, they say, it would probably look like the death glare Loki had on Thor right now. “You. Have. Jane.” Loki said with a low growl.

“Ah! So you do care about someone’s personal life.” Thor said cheekily, punching Loki’s shoulder. Loki looked like he was ready to cut off that hand. Just then Sgt. Barnes had walked in from the bedroom hallway rubbing his eyes. He smiled at you as you handed him a fresh cup of orange juice.

The Soldiers! Of course, it was the soldiers. Loki quickly glanced at Thor, and he gave a knowing nod, confirming that The Winter Soldier was looking to court you. Loki suspected something of his attraction to you for a while. He knew that you were close to Barnes. Barnes is very protective of you whenever you have missions together. That was the only reason why Loki was at ease whenever you did have missions with him. The fact that Barnes will undoubtedly watch your back.

Then Loki looked at Wilson, who was still at the griddle, and back to Thor. Thor shook his head, ‘no’. Then, Steve Rogers walked in and greeted everyone with a good morning. Loki looked back at Thor, and Thor gave one of those scrunched-up faces tilting his head to the side and shrugging his shoulders. Loki couldn’t help but run his hands through his face then up through his hair, messing up his bun. Loki heard you giggle at something Barnes had said. You were supposed to be his happy girl, not Barnes. Not anyone else’s.

Everyone started sitting down now, plates and utensils were passed. Food was disappearing and the team was complimenting you on the food. “It was all Wanda and Sam, I just cooked the bacon,” you said.

“There was bacon?” Tony asked.

“Yes! It was delicious.” Said Thor, stuffing pancakes into his mouth. You laughed as Tony glared at Thor.

⬅️ Chapter 5: Coffee | Chapter 7: Man With The Horn➡️

Tag list: @user13cabs @alexs1200 @lokiprompts

62 notes · View notes

kaunis-sielu · 3 years ago

Text

Fire Dogs: 6

Steve pulls Grant’s hand off of your arm then steps in between you and Grant.

“Fawn are you okay?” He asks softly.

“I’m okay,” you assure him and he turns his gaze onto Grant.

“I thought I told you that you were to leave her alone.” His voice is low and furious, “And not only do I find you here, harassing her, putting your hands on her but you’re also telling everyone that she’s an Omega even though you know she doesn’t want people to know.”

“What’s it to you?” Grant sneers and you almost pity him. Steve, externally seems calm but you can feel the rage.

“You’re going to leave Fawn alone. You’re not going to tell anyone else she’s an Omega, you’re going to think she’s a Beta and if you do come across her you’re going to treat her with the respect she deserves.” Grant seems to be fighting the Alpha command, he grits his teeth and sweat starts to form on his brow. You know he won’t beat it though, your knees have practically buckled at the power behind his command. You see why they call him a True Alpha.

“What if I don’t?”

“I’ll kill you. Omega protection laws say that as her Alpha I can defend her in anyway I might need to.” He warns and while Grant pales Steve continues, “Now, you’re going to apologize to Fawn, you’re going to leave her alone and I’m not going to have to remind you again.”

“Sorry Fawn.” You nod then Steve turns him around and gives him a little shove and Grant meanders away from you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve asks turning toward you.

“Yea, are you?” When he looks at you quizzically you clarify, “you were so angry.”

“You could tell?”

“I could feel it.” The slow smile he gives you causes your heart to race.

“Oh Honey,” he breathes pressing his forehead to yours. You can feel his breath slide across your cheek and you sigh softly as you close your eyes. Something wet hits your cheek and you pull away from Steve and look up at the sky as the clouds break.

You’re practically drenched in a matter of seconds,

“Rain! Steve rain!” You cry tilting your head back, a smile stretched across your face as the rain pours down on you. Finally, you’ve been waiting for this rain to knock down the fires and it’s finally here.

But no more fires means no more Steve. Your smile falls off of your face as quickly as it bloomed. “Rain.”

“Honey,” Steve says looking concerned.

“No more fire means no more you.” You choke out and he gently gathers you in to him.

“Shh, we can talk about it. This might not knock out all the fire.”

“But if it does,”

“We figure it out.” He soothes, “dance with me?”

“What?” You ask not moving your head from where it’s pressed to his chest. He takes your left hand gently in his right and puts your right hand up on his shoulder while wrapping his left arm around your back then he starts to sway.

It’s soothing, the way he slowly sways and hums. The rainwater is cool as it falls but you find that you don’t care at least not until it gets chilly.

“You wanna head home?”

“Yes, can, can you sleep with me again tonight?”

“Yea Honey.” You round the car and slide into the passengers seat before Cooper licks your face.

“Thanks Coop. You good boy.” You tell him and Steve starts the car then heads for home. Steve reaches over and offers you one of his hands, which you happily take and leave in your lap. It’s been nearly three weeks at this point and you’re not sure how you’re going to feel when he leaves. You’ve heard that it can be excruciating for an Omega to be without their Alpha but Steve technically isn’t your Alpha.

It’s still raining heavily when you get back home. You and Steve cook dinner together after he showers and you change into something dry. As you eat you talk a little about your day, how your drawings were approved and that printing will start soon. Steve is proud of you, a welcome feeling after Grant.

Your heart sinks when Bucky comes home early.

“Fires look like they’re all out.” He says with a grin and you have to blink away your tears before either man notices. Cooper does notice though and he comes over to you putting his head in your lap. You pet him absentmindedly while half listening to Steve and Bucky talk. They talk about the fire, the rain and when the subject of their trip home comes up you have to leave the room. It makes you too sad to think about them leaving.

You take Cooper out, grabbing the umbrella that you keep by the door on your way out. You don’t fool yourself and think that Steve hasn’t noticed your change in mood or the tears gathering on your eyelashes but you need a moment. You let Cooper run around in the rain, one of his favorite things to do, and you let a few of the tears fall.

You’re so conflicted on what to do. You’re 99% sure that Steve is your Alpha. The one Alpha for you, with how he makes you feel, and how he treats you and the fact that you can feel his emotions are all signs that he’s probably your Alpha. You’d be completely thrilled if he didn’t come from New York. If he wasn’t the True Alpha of his pack. But none of those things are true. He is the True Alpha, he lives in New York City, and you live here.

“Hey,” Steve says quietly from just inside the house. “You okay?”

“I don’t know.” You admit not looking at him,“I wanna be but I don’t know.”

“Wanna talk me through it?”

“I’m just really conflicted. I know in my gut you’re my Alpha, but you live there and I live here and I like it here. I like the smallness, the woods and the mountains. I can’t ask you to move your whole pack, and shouldn’t you being my Alpha be enough? Why isn’t it enough? Is there something wrong me with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you.” Steve assures you, “all of your feelings and thoughts are completely valid. If it makes you feel any better I know in my gut you’re my Omega. I’ve known since you opened the door. The pack and I will do whatever you need to be happy, no Alpha command needed.”

“I can’t ask you all to move here. How big is your pack?”

“All together around fifty.”

“Fifty! Steve! That’s huge!”

“Why don’t you come to New York with us? You and I can go upstate? See if we can find somewhere that’s close enough to the city but quiet enough for you?”

“I’m scared Steve.”

“Of what?”

“You know the last Alpha I had. What if this doesn’t work and I’ve moved my whole life to the other side of the country?”

“Do you own this place?” You nod, “then keep it. If it doesn’t work you still have a home but if it does we have a vacation place.”

“Would you want me to stop taking my suppressants?”

“If you want to. I know it’s easier to have kids when you’re not on them.”

“You’d want kids with me?”

“I want it all with you Omega. I want the bonding. The marriage. The family. I want all of it.” You’re floored by his admission you finally turn toward him and throw an arm around his neck pulling his lips to yours. Steve is gentle when he pulls your body flush against his, he’s warm and solid against you.

“I’ll come to New York with you. Are you sure you could live outside the city?”

“For you? Yes. Easily and happily.”

“Can we bring Cooper?”

“Of course. Are you gonna be alright traveling with the three of us?”

“Yea. I think I can manage.” You tell him with a smile, “when do you want to leave?”

“I don’t know, I’ve got to talk to Sam and Bucky. I’m sure they’ll wanna get back as much as I do but we have to be sure the fires are out for good. Maybe three days?”

“Okay, you might need to talk me down again. Get me out of my own head.”

“I can do that.” He promises, “you’re sure you want to go?”

“Yes. When I think of being left here without you it fills me with such dread. But I might get nervous about meeting your pack and about being on the east coast in a huge city.”

“The pack is going to love you. You don’t need to worry about that. Can I check your ribs again?”

“I suppose. Come on Cooper!”

“He’s soaked.” Steve says and you glance over at a very muddy Cooper.

“Yea, he loves the rain.” You’ll need to give him a bath before bedtime, luckily he loves bath time almost as much as he loves the rain. “I’ll have to give him a b-a-t-h. He loves them and will lose his mind when I say the word.”

“Ah.” Steve gives you a little half smile, “want help?”

“Only if you’re ready to get drenched again.”

“Bring it on.”

“Hey Cooper, wanna take a bath?” You say and as promised loses his mind barking and dancing around you excitedly. You let him in and he bolts downstairs.

Steve helps you give Cooper a bath and as you predict you’re both completely soaked by the time you’re done.

“Who got a bath? You two or Cooper?” Bucky teases as you and Steve go past him in the living room.

“Cooper, give him a hug.” You tell the dog who runs over to Bucky and still soaking wet jumps up into Bucky’s lap and throws his body onto Bucky’s torso.

“Awe Cooper!” You and Steve laugh as Bucky debates if he wants your dog off of him or if he’s just going to let it happen. He finally surrenders and hugs Cooper back as you and Steve head upstairs.

After Steve checks your shoulder and ribs he seems pleased with how you’re healing. Cooper sleeps with Bucky instead of you and honestly it’s kind of nice that you and Steve have the bed to yourselves. It would be even nicer if you could relax.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you tell me about the pack?”

“Can’t sleep?” You hum softly in response. So you drift off to his voice telling you about his pack.

The next three days are busy, you get things together for your trip to New York. You use as much of the perishable food as you can and bring other stuff to the food shelf in town. You pack up all of your book stuff, some of your clothes and whatever you’ll need for Cooper. You and Steve decide that you’ll drive your car with Cooper and some of your stuff then Sam and Bucky will drive the truck with everything else that you want to bring out and their stuff.

It’s weird locking up your place for what could be the last time. But you think that you’re ready, Steve is watching you out of the corner of his eye while he talks to Sam and Bucky. He gives you this sweet smile when you come walking down the sidewalk, Cooper on your heels.

“Ready to go Omega?” Steve asks and you nod, both his friends share a pleased look then both head for the drivers seat. A tussle breaks out, Sam getting Bucky into a headlock but Bucky is able to muscle his way out of the headlock and throws Sam to the ground before jumping into the truck with a triumphant yell.

“Is this going to be a bad idea?” You ask an unamused Steve.

“They’ll be fine. I’m more annoyed with them, I just know they’re gonna embarrass me on this trip.” He says as you walk to your car together, he opens the back for Cooper then buckles him in and joins you in the car.

“Maybe I should’ve ridden with them to hear the stories.”

“Absolutely not.” Steve says lightly, “besides you wouldn’t really leave your Alpha all alone would you?”

“Not unless I have to.” You admit and he takes your hand. He presses a kiss to the back of it and gives you a soft smile. You’d let him mark you right now if he was a normal Alpha you realize with a start, your anxiety spikes at the thought.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just, this is big ya know? I’ve been this fiercely independent fake Beta for like 18 years or so? And now I’m leaving that life behind.”

“You can still be an independent fake Beta.”

“No I can’t,” you admit, “I didn’t renew my prescription. I have a week left.”

Tag list:

@memyselfandmaddox @thefanficfaerie @patzammit @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @killcomet @thesassmisstress @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @giggleberts @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @eralen @valsworldofcreativity @strangersstranger @blackwidownat2814 @sky0401 @winterbuckystan1917 @dontbescaredtosingalong

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader au #imagine steve rogers x reader au #imagine steve rogers au #imagine steve rogers x reader #alpha!steve rogers x reader #alpha!steve rogers x omega reader #alpha!steve x omega!reader #alpha!steve rogers #alpha steve rogers #alpha Steve Rogers x reader #firefighter #firefighter!steve rogers x reader #firefighter!steve rogers #firefighter!au #fire dogs story

176 notes · View notes