#i noticed that i misplaced my barn and now i have to fix it and i don’t want to

[the-travelling-witch]

Hey holly! Do you think you’ll ever get into that fantasy stardew valley like game with March? Cause of you I started playing and replaying stardew and let me tell you, I love March

i have actually been playing fields of mistria since august haha i think i posted screenshots of it too some time, but i’m really slow with progress since i’ll boot it up on a weekend, play like 14 hours and then not get to it for months, so i’m still in the first year ^^;

also march is totally my type of character, both appearance and personality wise, that’s a character crafted for me, he gets holly’s seal of approval <3

“fom/sdv are farming sims” nope, wrong, they’re march/sebastian marriage speedruns

​in any case i’m happy i could influence you to play sth fun, holly’s marketing department strikes again hehe

[peterrparrkerr]

Moodboard for the series (don't judge me I usually do gifs, this was something new. Also, I could not get the collar to look right)

So I meant to upload this yesterday but I lost control of it and then got busy, so here's a little over 3k for you!

Also, tagging @snowstark because this is our baby. Ao3 version here!

Idk what to tag this. Dark themes, spanking, forced to choose a punishment, uuuh, not sure what else. Enjoy!

*-*

Bucky knows when Peter is going to have a hard time adjusting to Tony being gone. It had been close to a year since Bucky started working for Tony, and he's gotten familiar with all of Peter's little quirks.

And he knows the slight pout Peter sports as he waits beside Bucky for Tony to come to the door, means Peter's going to be a slight handful.

But Bucky can handle the teenager. He's been in charge of Peter's safety for long enough. Aside from Tony, Bucky knows how to get Peter to do as he's told.

Tony comes down the stairs, suit tailored and travel bag in hand. "What a sight," he grins. "My pets waiting for me."

Bucky clenches his jaw at that, but he doesnt say anything. Peter though, steps up to the Superior nuzzling into Tony's chest.

"Don't go," Peter whined. Bucky watched with a familiar jealous rock in his gut, but he stays still.

"I'll be back in five days," Tony sighed, kissing the top of Peter's curly hair.

Peter's in a pair of soft blue jean shorts and a faded Yankees sweater, the bottom cut off to show off his midriff.

Tony pushes Peter back a little and smiles fondly down at him, fingers fixing the collar around his puppy's neck, little bell tinkling.

"You be good," Tony orders, leaning down to kiss Peter's pouty lips.

Peter sulks as Tony steps away, towards the door and closer to Bucky.

"I'll be back late," Tony hums, patting Bucky on the cheek. "I'll see you both when I get back."

And with that, Tony's gone. Bucky rubs at his cheek with a slight scowl. Its a new thing, Tony touching him. And Bucky doesn't like it.

Peter spins on his heels the moment the door is shut and storms off, making Bucky sigh explosively before making his way after him.

Alpine slows him down by weaving between his legs, meowing needily.

"Damn cat, go away," he snaps, nearly kicking the thing before remembering she's Peter's.

The door to Peter and Tony's bedroom slams and Bucky sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

So it's going to be like this then. Bucky decides to let Peter wallow on his own. Sooner or later his emotions would get the best of him and he'd come out for comfort. Bucky wouldn't force him to before then.

Its the same song and dance. Peter cries when Tony's gone, he doesn't eat much, and just kind of sulks around the house.

If he were a real puppy, Bucky could just imagine him crying at the door with his tail tucked between his legs, looking extra pathetic.

It was during these days when Tony wasn't around that Peter got a little less obedient.

Most incidents Bucky kept to himself. Little scenes of Peter acting out of his emotions. Tony didn't need to be informed of everything.

The bigger incidences though was definitely taken to Tony. They hadn't had an incident in a while -not since Peter ran out and Bucky got shot.

Peter had been terrified after that, refused to leave the tower even with Buck and Tony there with him.

Tony had punished him good and hard for that -it still makes Bucky's stomach roll at the thought of Tony hitting Peter. Bucky still remembers how small he looked when Tony had guided him back into the penthouse.

His eyes all red, tear tracks down blushed cheeks. He had been trembling slightly. It had made Bucky sick to his stomach.

But Peter hadnt done it again. When Tony left, Peter stayed put.

"Peter, time to eat," Bucky called after knocking on the bedroom door. Peter had been locked in there for most of the two days so far Tony's been gone.

He sulks under his covers, and when he does come out, its with a pout. Something Bucky is used to.

"M'not hungry," comes Peter's petulant response through the door.

"Yes you are, pup," Bucky sighed. "Come on, out with you before I come in there."

"Said I wasn't hungry," Peter spoke, voice raising a little. Bucky cocks an eyebrow, then tries the handle of the door. Its locked.

"Peter, open this door."

"No," Peter said.

"You open this door or I'll kick it down," Bucky threatened. Peter's never locked his door before.

"Do it!" Peter snapped. "Then Tony'll be mad at you and send you to the basement!"

"Oh for fuck's sake," Bucky muttered under his breath.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, override the lock for Peter's door," he says, looking up at the ceiling.

"I am sorry, but the lock is manual, it will have to be unlocked by Peter, Mr. Barnes."

Bucky growls, clenching his teeth.

"Open the door, Peter," he tries again.

"No."

"C'mon, pup, open up," Bucky sighed. He really didn't want to break down the door. What has gotten into Peter? He's never like this.

"Nuh-uh," Peter said. "Leave me alone."

"You know I can't do that, Pete," Bucky huffed.

"I don't need a babysitter," Peter called out. "I can take care of myself. Tony doesn't need you anymore."

"You've got five seconds and then I'm breaking the door down," Bucky said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Peter says nothing. Bucky begins to count. He thinks Peter will crack when he reaches two, but the boy doesn't make a sound.

"Alright, last chance."

Nothing.

Bucky tries the handle once more before stepping back. He lowers his shoulder, ready to drive it into the wood before slamming into the door.

The frame splinters and the door slams into the wall with a deafening crack.

Peter jumps from his spot on the bed, eyes wide and mouth gaping in shock.

"What is going on with you, Peter?" Bucky demands, a little fed up with his behavior. "You've never acted like this before."

Peter's shock falls away to anger, eyebrows furrowing and arms crossing.

"Get out."

"No, you need to tell me why you're acting like a brat," Bucky demanded, crossing his own arms.

"M'not a brat," Peter snipped, little bell sounding as Peter turned his head away from Bucky, glaring at the wall.

"No? 'Cause you seem pretty bratty to me," Bucky challenged.

That gets Peter standing from the bed. "I'm not!"

"I'm not going to fight with a fucking child," Bucky muttered to himself. "Go into the dining room and eat your lunch."

Peter sets his jaw. Its cute. Little thing trying to be tough.

"I said I'm not hungry."

"Well, Tony wants you to eat," Bucky tries. Usually talking about what Tony wants would get Peter to do as he's told. But it doesn't work today.

So Bucky grabs Peter by the upper arm and pulls him out of the room. Peter grunts, digging his heels in, but he's small and doesn't have much muscle.

"Eat," Bucky demands, gesturing to the food he sits Peter down in front of.

Peter glares up at him, though its not as effective as he thinks with his pastel blue tshirt and matching collar.

"I hate you," Peter bites out.

"Good for you, now eat your God damn lunch before I force feed you."

To say the next three days is difficult is an understatement. Bucky has no idea why Peter's acting out the way he is, but he's had enough.

On the fourth day, Bucky actually swatted him! Peter looked up at him with wide eyes, mouth clicking shut. Bucky instantly felt sick, but he forced himself to stand his ground even as hurt and anger filtered through Peter's features.

"You hit me," Peter said. It made Bucky feel even worse, but he didnt back down.

"You're being bad," Bucky said. More anger filtered in, and Peter reached forward to try and shove him.

Bucky caught him by the wrists and Peter yelled loudly, beginning to flail.

"Peter, stop it!" Bucky snapped, pulling the pup in close and pinning him against his chest. He doesn't have room to thrash now.

"I hate you! I hate you!" Peter yelled. Bucky can hear the beginnings of tears in his voice. "I don't want you here! I want- I want Tony!"

Bucky holds Peter as he chokes on his tears, forcing Bucky to carry his weight when Peter stops holding himself up.

Bucky let's him cry it out, walking him to his bedroom. The door still wasn't fixed -Bucky didn't have time, what with Peter acting out.

He deposited Peter onto the bed. "You can come out when you're done being a brat," Bucky said shortly. Peter just fell to his side, wrapping his arms around a pillow and drawing up his legs.

Bucky walked out and flopped onto the couch, leaning his head back and staring up at the ceiling.

Maybe Tony would know what Peter's problem was. Just because he's never acted like this since Bucky moved in doesn't mean its never happened before.

Bucky's never been more glad when Tony arrives the next morning. He's exhausted. Tony -the perceptive bastard- notices right away when Bucky greets him at the elevator.

"What happened," Tony demanded. Bucky let out a sigh, shoulders slumping just a bit. He didnt like feeling like a whiner, and explaining to Tony what the past five days have been like definitely makes him feel it.

"I don't know whats gotten into him," he finishes with. He just wants to sleep for a couple days. He's never felt more like a babysitter than he does now.

"Oh, I do," Tony huffed. Bucky raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "He's jealous."

That throws Bucky for a loop. "Jealous? Of what?" He can't help but demand incredulously.

Tony smiles knowingly and lifts his hand, brushing his fingers over Bucky's jaw, pinching his chin and giving a little shake.

"Of you, pet," Tony hums, looking amused. "He's used to getting my full attention. I think he's feeling a bit misplaced."

Bucky lifts his head, pulling his chin free from Tony's grasp and taking a small step back.

"He's got no reason to be jealous of me," Bucky grunted.

"No?" Tony asked. "Lets go see our puppy then, hmm?"

Bucky frowns as Tony walks past him into the penthouse. Our puppy?

He quickly spins on his heels and follows after Tony. Theres a disapproved hum when Tony notices the door leaning against the door.

"Tony!"

Peter scrambles from the bed, rushing over to Tony and crashing into his chest. Bucky keeps his distance, hands clasped behind his back.

"I missed you."

"I'm sure," Tony hummed. "Bucky told me about your behavior while I was gone."

Bucky winces in sympathy at the tone Tony uses with Peter. The pup steps back from him, brows furrowing.

"I-"

"I don't want any excuses," Tony interrupted. Bucky watched as Peter's demeanor shifted. He knew he was in trouble, he could see it in the way Peter's shoulders slumped.

"Go wait for me in your room," Tony continued. "And when we're gone, we're going to have a talk."

"But, Tony‐" Peter began. Tony grabs him by the arm and yanks him towards the elevator that leads to the basement.

"Go," he snaps, features twisting into a look of anger. Bucky holds his ground, but he wants to rush back out of Tony's line of fire.

Peter shrinks at the tone. He doesn't try again, just makes his way to the elevator, like a dog scurrying out of trouble with his tail between his legs.

"Are you really going to punish him?" Bucky asked, following Tony towards the elevator Peter had just disappeared through. "If he's just acting out of jealousy-"

"His acting out got me a broken door and a puppy with an attitude problem," Tony said. "I brought you here to take care of him while I'm away. His behavior hindered that and that won't do."

Bucky follows Tony into the elevator. He doesn't say anything, just stands beside Tony, watching the floors pass in glowing numbers above the doors.

When they reach the basement floor, the doors open and Tony steps out, already heading for the door that leads to Peter's room.

"Come on, pet," Tony calls over his shoulder. Bucky's legs work without him, taking him out of the elevator and into the main room.

"I'm not a pet," Bucky grunted. Tony glances over his shoulder, smirking. His blue eyes shining with amusement.

"I beg to differ," Tony hummed, before reaching a hand out and clasping Bucky by the back of the neck.

Bucky allows the Superior to pull him closer as they make their way to the door.

Buck decides not to argue the issue. Better to keep on Tony's good side.

Tony opens the door, and Bucky's eyes widen at the sight of Peter on the bed, naked. Hes on his elbows and knees, pert little ass up in the air.

He's hidden his face in his arms, and doesn't realize Bucky is here with Tony.

"He does paint a pretty picture, doesn't he?" Tony murmurs lowly, arm still wrapped around Bucky's shoulders, nosing at Bucky's jaw.

"I can leave," Bucky says lowly, glancing from Peter to Tony.

"No, I want you here," Tony decides, shutting the door. Bucky chews on his inner cheek, staying close to the door as Tony walks over to the wall of -Bucky feels his stomach drop. He doesn't know if he can watch this.

"M'sorry," Peter whines, turning his head to see Tony at the wall.

"I know you are," Tony said, looking over the items hanging on the wall. Bucky's never seen so many switches and floggers before.

"But that doesn't change the fact that you were a bad puppy."

Peter's breath hitches and he hides his face again. Bucky watches Tony pick out a flat leather paddle from the wall. One of the less intimidating items hanging on the wall.

"How many hits do you think he deserves?" Tony says, catching both Peter and Bucky off guard. Peter's head turns, wide eyes locking onto him before he seems to shrink, hiding his face away again, but not leaving the position Tony most likely trained him to be in.

It takes Bucky a moment to realize Tony was talking to him, and he blinks, looking over at the Superior. "What?"

"You had to deal with his poor behavior for five days, so you decide his punishment," Tony said.

Bucky looks wide eyed at Peter, pale and naked except for the baby blue collar around his neck. He shakes his head.

"Come on, pet," Tony goads. "What does he deserve?"

Bucky hears Peter whimper at that and he feels his skin crawl. He shakes his head again, feeling sick. "I can't."

Tony's mouth drops in a frown, looking disappointed. Bucky doesn't care. He can't.

"Fine," he hums. "Then fifty hits."

Peter lifts his head, breath hitching and tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Ten for each day."

Bucky feels his throat closing up.

"N-no," Peter sobbed. "No, please, Tony!"

Tony looks at Bucky, challenging glint in his Extremis blue eyes. "Bucky doesn't want to choose, so I'm chosing for him, puppy."

Peter turns to look at Bucky, pleasing with a trembling breath.

Bucky digs his nails into his palms. He looks from Peter to Tony, then back to Peter.

If Bucky chooses a lower number, Tony may not agree to it. But Bucky doesn't want Peter being hit -especially in front of him.

"Twenty," he manages to say, unsticking his throat. His voice is tense, body rigid and hands clasped behind him. Outwardly, he looks calm and collected, but inside he wants to do nothing but run out of the basement.

Tony doesn't say anything for a moment, and Bucky's sure its just as long for Peter as it is for him.

"Alright, twenty it is," Tony agrees. Bucky feels the muscles in his shoulders unwind a little at that.

"Count them out, pup."

Its the worst few minutes of Bucky's life. He served tours over seas. He's killed people with his bear hands and lost an arm, and he'd go through all of that ten times if it meant he didn't have to be in the same room as Tony and Peter right now.

Each smack has Bucky's pulse spiking, each sobbed out count down like agony. Its a punishment all its own to be forced to stand by while Peter cries, the loud smack of leather on skin filling the room.

The worst thing is Bucky is the reason he's got twenty spanks in the first place. Sure, its less than fifty, but he's still the one who offered a number.

Bucky doesn't even care anymore about Peter's behavior. He just wants Tony to stop.

Peter's ass is just as red as his face, and his breath hitches on cries, but the boy doesn't move. Bucky has no doubt if he had, the punishment would be far worse.

"Twen-twen'y," Peter finally gasps out wetly, dropping onto the bed.

Bucky restrains himself from rushing over there and scooping the boy up. His nails dig painfully into his palms.

He watches Tony do it instead. Watches as Tony's hand turns soft, scooping Peter up and settling him onto his lap, careful of his poor bottom.

Tony smooths Peter's curls from his forehead, muttering lowly against Peter's cheek as the boy cries, arms lifting to wrap around Tony's shoulders.

Tony glances up at Bucky and nods. "Come here, pet."

Bucky's too concerned with Peter to argue the pet name. He makes his way over to the bed in three long strides and sits down beside Tony and Peter.

Peter peeks out from Tony's neck, eye red rimmed. His breath hitches.

"M'sorry, Bucky," he cries, voice reedy and wobbling with tears.

"Thats alright, Pete," Bucky said softly.

Peter tucks himself back into Tony's neck, allowing the Superior to smooth his hands up and down Peter's bare back.

"Go with with Bucky, pup," Tony says a moment later, once Peter's tears have tapered off a little. Bucky's eyes widen at that, but he can't do much else, because Peter's crawling out of Tony's lap and settling into his own.

Bucky doesn't know what to do. He's wearing cargo pants, and he can't help but worry they're too rough for Peter.

And then he's stuck on the fact that he's got a very naked Peter in his lap. The boy leans into Bucky's chest, head resting on his shoulder.

Bucky settles a hand on Peter's lower back -as low as he dares- and rubs circles into his skin.

"I think its time we had a little talk," Tony said, looking first at Peter, then at Bucky.

[staticscreenwriting]

LOVE LIKE THE MOVIES // BUCKY BARNES // 4

Four - Casablanca

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

“ You dressed up! “

God damnit. He should’ve known. He really should’ve. Sam stands by his side, shit-eating grin splitting his face in two. He should’ve just worn a plain sweater and no one would’ve commented on it.

But then would she look at him with that joyful sparkle in her eyes and that gorgeous smile? Maybe the little dressing up that he did do, and all the teasing comments from Sam, are worth it if means she’ll look at him like that.

“I didn’t dress up.” Doesn’t mean he has to admit it. No now, not ever.

“ Uh, your jeans are cuffed. You’ve never done that!” (Y/N) points out to which Sam chimes in with a loud “that’s what I said!” words dripping with amusement.

“ It’s just my jeans, it’s not a big deal.”

“ And you quiffed your hair!”

Bucky glances towards Sam who stands beside him with the biggest smile any person has ever displayed in all the times humans have walked this earth. His joy at Bucky’s obvious discomfort knowing no boundaries and, if it weren’t at his own expense, Bucky would even find Sam’s amusement quite contagious.

“ You totally did! He totally did! I didn’t even notice. Hi,” he says and shakes (Y/N)’s hand “ I’m Sam.”

“ So nice to meet you, Sam. And you dressed up too! As a sexy Ghostbuster!”

Bucky can basically feel Sam’s ego inflate at those words and he knows, for a fact, he’ll never hear the end of it.

“ That’s right! I am a sexy Ghostbuster. Not a regular one. That’s exactly what I was going for, thank you. Man, I love her already.” Sam says, directed at both, (Y/N) but mostly at Bucky.

“ You look lovely too, by the way,” Sam points out and for the first time since they arrived, Bucky gives himself a moment to take her in entirely. Not just the little things, the twinkle in her eyes, the warm radiance of her smile. Her. All of her.

The blue and white checkered pinafore dress she’s wearing reaches down to her knees, her legs are covered by white knee-high socks and at her feet, a pair of ruby red heels sparkle as the light reflects against them.

She looks beautiful but what really makes Bucky’s heart skip just a tiny fraction of a beat is the fact that he knows who she’s supposed to be and, whether she did it purposefully or not doesn’t matter, he feels included for the first time in so long.

“ You’re Dorothy.” his lips produce words that his brain didn’t sign off on. They just slip out. They hold so much weight that even if he’d acted fast enough, he doesn’t think he would’ve been able to hold them back. They’re so seemingly insignificant but they hold a meaning that Bucky isn’t sure anyone will ever fully comprehend. Steve would’ve but Steve is — not here.

He hopes (Y/N) understands even a small fraction of what it means to him. And when she smiles, he thinks she might.

“ I am. Do you like it?”

“ You look beautiful. “ And she does. She really does.

Sam is grinning away like he’s just heard the best news and Bucky isn’t sure if he prefers this to his outright laughter at his discomfort or not. This smirk seems like some inside joke Bucky doesn’t get. Like Sam knows something he doesn’t.

“ Can I get you guys something to drink? Beers? “

“ That would be great “ Sam replies.

“ Grumpy? “

“ Sure.”

He can’t get drunk, that’s one of the little things the Serum changed about him. It’s not like he’s here to get drunk anyway but to feel the enthusiastic buzz that alcohol can wash through your system, would be nice. He hardly remembers what that felt like.

He’s gonna drink some beer either way though. It gives him the feeling of fitting in, of belonging with the crowd. Even if he knows that’s one big lie. Sometimes you have to lie to yourself to keep your heart from breaking.

Kim isn’t a friend. Not really. She’s a friend of a friend who somehow always tags along whenever (Y/N)’s friend group gets together. She’s never actually invited but she’s always there anyway. Tonight is no exception.

She’s dressed in some kind of last-minute DIY deer costume, one of those that have been popular a few years back on Youtube, and the way she smirks at (Y/N) as she enters the kitchen already makes the metaphorical alarm bells go off in (Y/N)’s head.

“ So, I didn’t know you know celebrities. “

“ What are you talking about, Kim? “

“ Oh, you know! “ Kim announces and slides up next to (Y/N), casually leaning against the kitchen counter. “ Do you think he can do some cool tricks with his metal arm? “

“ Who are you talking about? “

Obviously (Y/N) is well aware of who Kim is talking about. There’s only so many people with metal arms and only one of them finds himself at this very party. Still, she doesn’t give Kim the satisfaction of reacting to her ridiculous comment. Maybe, (Y/N) naively hopes, repeating her question will make Kim realize just how rude and offensive her words really are.

“The winter soldier! Who else. That’s him, isn’t it? “

“ No.”

“ You sure? I’m pretty certain that’s him.”

“ His name is Bucky!” (Y/N) clarifies, fixing Kim with a stare that conveys just how serious this is to her. “ And he is not some kind of circus freak or entertainer or something. He is my friend. “

Kim shrugs her shoulders so casually that it sends shivers of red hot rage through (Y/N)’s body. The audacity of this woman. “ Okay sure but he is the Winter Soldier, right? I don’t know why you’re acting so sensitive right now. Chill, girl.”

“ Fuck you, Kim. You are so disrespectful towards my friend. He’s so sweet and genuine and wonderful and he deserves to be seen for all that he is. He is not here for you to stare at like a caged animal and he sure as hell ain’t here to be reminded of his painful past. If you can’t treat him like a normal person, please leave. “

There’s a look on Kim’s face that (Y/N) hasn’t seen on her before. One of utter disbelief. One that lets her know that this was the last thing Kim was expecting. And for a little moment, a huge wave of triumphant enthusiasm crashes over her.

“ Whatever.” is all Kim replies once the shock has settled. With a pout on her lips, she shuffles out of the kitchen and back into the crowd. (Y/N) can’t tell for sure if she’s leaving but there’s no doubt in her mind that at least she won’t be harassing Bucky anytime soon.

A bitter taste settles on (Y/N) tongue, as she thinks about Kim’s words again. About the sick and twisted thoughts that reduce Bucky to little more than a human animatronic. It’s disgusting and so so sad and she just hopes Bucky hasn’t heard her say those things.

As she steps out of the kitchen and rounds the corner though, her hopes are squashed. There’s the usual pain on his face, the one that’s perpetually etched into his features as Bucky leans against the wall. But mixed in between, there’s something else. A confusing mess of emotions she can’t quite place. She knows though. He’s heard every last word.

“ Robin came over, started talking to Sam about some band I don’t know. Thought I’d come see if you need some help. “

“ Bucky, I — “

“ It’s fine.” He interrupts her. (Y/N) doesn’t think it’s really fine. Sometimes people just get so used to saying they feel fine, they actually start believing it. Only fine is not something you want to feel forever, is it? Fine shouldn’t be a permanent state. Fine should be temporary. A path to good. To great. To happy.

“ You sure? “

“ Yeah. I uh — I appreciate what you said.”

“ Oh sure. And I meant it. You’re my friend and you deserve all the good things life has to offer.”

He doesn’t know if he agrees with that sentiment. No, in fact, he’s sure that he doesn’t agree. While he is free of the pain that bound him to Hydra, he will never be entirely free of the guilt his past has put on him. One, he thinks, makes him undeserving of so many things. Like friends. Like happiness. Like love.

And yet it’s nice to know that other people see in him what he may never see in himself.

“ Now let’s go rescue Sam before Robin ropes him into some kind of wedding preparations.”

She says, hands Bucky a bottle, and then grabs his free hand to pull him towards the other side of the room where Robin, dressed as Jessica Rabbit, gestures around wildly as she talks to Sam.

At first, (Y/N) doesn’t even realize it but then she notices that the hand holding hers feels different. It’s not as soft to the touch as a hand usually is. The glove is warm and smooth under her skin but she wishes she could touch the metal. It’s not some kind of weird, misplaced fetishization or some sensationalism. It’s the fact that the arm is a part of Bucky as much as his eyes or his smile or his perpetual grumpiness. And she wants to know every part of him for they make him who he is, and who he is is wonderful.

3 hours.

It’s been 3 hours since they arrived at the party. 3 hours of music he doesn’t get from artists he doesn’t know. 3 hours of staying painfully sober while everyone around him gets exponentially more drunk. 3 hours of pretending not to notice the looks he’s getting.

3 hours and then it got too much. He’s well aware that this isn’t his time. By all means, he shouldn’t be here. Not like this. Stuck in a body that doesn’t match his actual age. Forever reminded of the fact that he’s not meant to be here. Usually, he tries to ignore that. Tries to learn about new things, tries to understand.

This party puts a mirror right in front of his face though. Makes it painfully obvious that this is not where he belongs.

What a party pooper he is. He’d hate himself. If his old self could see him now, standing alone on a balcony because he didn’t like the music inside. His old self would think of him as a coward. His old self is probably right.

“ Grumpy, what are you doing out here, all by yourself?”

For a second the music from the inside spills through the doors and into the serene night, only to be cut off a second later when (Y/N) steps onto the balcony and closes the door behind her.

“ Are you not having fun? “

“ It’s not that. It’s just —”

Just what? Bucky has no idea how to put it into words. It’s moments like this one where having Steve around would be so helpful. He’d understand and he’d know what to say. Steve always knew what to say. Steve just didn’t know when to shut up.

“ You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Ever.” (Y/N) says and bumps him with her shoulder as she leans against him looking out at the New York skyline.

“ I appreciate it.”

“ I was hoping you’d like my costume,” (Y/N) confesses after a moment. “ I feel like I tell you so much about all these movies you missed out on and I don’t know, maybe it’s silly, but I wanted you to feel in the know for once. Does that make sense? “

Bucky bites his lip for everything he wants to say is not something you tell someone you’ve only just befriended a few weeks ago. Never has he felt the need to spill his heart, with all his sorrows and fears and dreams, to anyone. Not until tonight. But it’s too much to burden her with. He can hardly carry the weight himself. To put it on her would be an awfully selfish thing to do.

So he just nods his head and smiles and he says “thank you” like it doesn’t mean anything when really it means the world.

“ Okay well, since I can’t bring you to the party — “ (Y/N) says and fumbles her phone from her dress pocket “ — I’ll just have to bring the party to you.”

For a moment she just types away on the screen before a familiar tune sounds from the speakers of her phone. A familiar tune, to Bucky. One he remembers dancing to when he was a whole other man.

Glenn Miller’s Moonlight Cocktail fills the air and Bucky’s lips unwillingly lift into a smile.

“ If I remember correctly,” (Y/N) says and reaches out her hand to him “ you owe me a dance.”

Bucky laughs and shakes his head, but grabs a hold of her hand anyway “That’s not how it works. You can’t just say someone owes you something simply because you want it.”

She’s so close now. He can see the lights reflecting in her eyes, can feel her chest lift with every breath she takes.

Here’s the thing about loneliness. After a while, you get used to it. It becomes a part of your life, of yourself, like breathing and sleep. You don’t even realize that you’re missing something. Until one day you’re chest to chest with a beautiful girl who thinks you’re wonderful and worthy of her friendship. And it’s then that you realize how lonely you were and how much it hurts and how much you’ve been missing the touch of another.

“ I’ve always wanted to dance through the night. Ever since I’ve first seen Moulin Rouge in the cinema.” (Y/N) says and they start to slowly but surely sway to the music. It’s tentative steps at first, shy and unsure. Barely there moves but there after all.

Sometimes it’s enough for things to be small. The big moments, the important ones don’t need to be big at all. Some of the most important ones don’t demand a lot of space and yet they take up all the space in your heart.

“ Do you remember your first time seeing a movie at the cinema? “ she asks, looking up at him with her starlight eyes.

It’s not a memory he can recall. It’s one of those that have been lost in the shuffle. Like a sweater you love that’s been lost in the laundry or a picture frame gone missing during a move.

“ I don’t. I do remember my last trip to the cinema though.”

“Yeah? What was it?”

This memory is so vivid, it could’ve happened yesterday. He remembers the old dusty velvet seats. He remembers the propaganda spot shown before the movie, the one that put a feeling in his gut as if he’d just swallowed a sack of bricks, now knowing what was to happen but expecting it. He remembers Ruth Dillinger and her gorgeous blond hair and the way it smelled like soap and flowers. And he remembers the movie.

“ Casablanca. Saw it on a date with a girl.”

“ Aw, you took her on a movie date? Lucky girl. “

“ I don’t know if I’d go that far. I wasn’t half as respectable of a guy back then. Was more interested in sneaking a kiss in the dark than taking her to see a good movie. “

“ Did you do the whole, yawning-arm-around-the-shoulder thing?”

“ Obviously.”

“ Oh, you were just a regular casanova, Mr. Barnes? “

“ For sure. “

New York feels alive with the power of possibility. Of a night being more than a night. Of small moments being big and big moments being so tiny and intimate and small. New York feels alive with emotions. Ones Bucky doesn't understand and couldn’t understand. But either way, he feels happier in that tiny insignificant moment than he had in a long time.

“ I’ve never seen Casablanca.”

At that confession, Bucky pushes away from her a little so he can properly look at her, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“ What? It’s a classic. I have good reasons for not having seen most of your movie recommendations, what’s your excuse? “

She smiles bashfully and shrugs her shoulders “ I really don’t know. I just never got around to it. I feel like it’s such an important movie, it asks for a special occasion. Like seeing it at some fancy cinema or in concert or something. You know? “

Bucky only chuckles before pulling her close for another soft sway around the balcony.

Only the serenity doesn’t last very long as the aggressive drumming of some EDM song penetrates the quiet and Sam steps out onto the balcony.

“ Hi guys, uh — am I interrupting something ?”

“ No, no. That’s alright” (Y/N) exclaims, sounding a little flustered as she pulls away from Bucky and presses pause on her phone, plunging them all in silence.

“ I’m gonna get going in a moment. Need to catch an early flight tomorrow morning. “

“ Aw, so soon? Well okay but it was so nice to meet you Sam. You’re welcome at any future party or just drop in at the diner whenever you’re around.” (Y/N) says and pulls him into a hug.

“ I will don’t worry. Told you, I like you already.”

They share another quick hug before (Y/N) excuses herself to get Sam’s jacket from another room, leaving Sam and Bucky alone on the balcony.

“ Do not say a word!” Bucky orders as he notices yet another grin forming on Sam’s face.

“ I didn’t say anything.”

“ But you want to. I can see it.”

“ What would I possibly say, Buck? That you’ve got it bad? You know that yourself. “

“ It’s not like that.”

“ Okay, if you say so. “ Sam complies and lets another silence fall over them.

That’s until he speaks up yet again “ You dance. Man, I can’t believe it. Hey, can you waltz?”

“ Shut up! “

The party is slowly but surely winding down. A lot of people have left by now.

Some are asleep on the couch. On the floor. Against the wall.

A few are still lingering around, talking in low voices. Slurred words, tired eyes, light hearts.

Bucky tries not to step on anyone as he maneuvers his way around the apartment, trying to find the room where (Y/N) put all the jackets. It’s time for him to go, no matter how much he wants to hold onto the moment. He’s tired and the party is as good as over. And anyway, he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in a while.

“ Psst, Grumpy“

(Y/N) peeks out from behind a door, beckoning him closer. As he steps into the room he’s embraced by a warm amber glow coming from a string of fairy lights that frame one wall.

On her bed, (Y/N) sits and leans against the headboard, balancing a laptop on her legs. The wall behind her is covered in photographs. Some of her, some of people he doesn’t know. There are pictures taken at concerts, theme parks, the beach. She’s smiling in most of them. Happy. Memories of a lifetime forever caught on film.

This, Bucky realizes then, is something he wants. Not right now but eventually. To make memories. Ones that last. Ones that don’t get taken away from him. And someone to make those memories with him.

“ Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” Bucky asks as she pats the blanket and he sits down on the bed next to her.

“ I’ve been looking for this movie and I finally found a decent copy we can watch.”

“ Now? “

“ Yes now. It’s supposed to be a really good one. I think you’ll like it. “

Bucky’s tired. He honestly just wants to go home and try to find at least a few hours of sleep. But she does it again, that thing where she smiles and his heart does the weird fluttery thing. And he can’t say no to that. Why would he ever want to say no to that?

So he scoots backward to rest against the headboard as well and his eyes take in the swirly white font on the screen spelling out Casablanca over the black and white image of a map of Africa.

His smile won’t be suppressed anymore. It takes over his face like it belongs right there.

"Thought you were waiting for a special occasion?"

“ I was and I found it. Now, what’s the romantic lesson I can learn from this one? “ (Y/N) asks as her head comes to rest on his right shoulder.

Bucky considers it for a moment, tries to recall exactly what happens. Some details are fuzzy, some lost altogether. But he remembers the core of it all. The love shared between two people.

“ It is about sacrificing the thing you want most in life to make sure the people you love are safe and happy. It’s about putting the one you love above yourself and breaking your own heart in order to keep theirs from breaking. Love is selfless, never selfish. And love is worth it. I think that’s what it’s about. “

“ That’s a lovely sentiment. But so sad too.”

Bucky only nods in agreement and as the title credits roll he wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to really figure out love. To fall for someone and love them so much he’d give up everything to see them happy. Even himself.

Though they call it the city that never sleeps, New York seems to grow tired. It grows calm and quiet and maybe for a second it falls into a slumber in the same way that both Bucky and (Y/N) fall asleep, cuddled up on her bed, while Ingrid Bergman flies away on a plane and Humphry Bogard walks into the black of night.

Bucky hasn’t slept in a bed in months in fear of nightmares and terrors lurking in the dark corner of his mind.

That night he doesn’t have nightmares. In fact that night he dreams. Of slow dancing on a balcony with only the stars bearing witness to the moment. He dreams of red slippers and fairy lights and black and white movies.

That night he doesn’t have nightmares. Only sweet dreams.

Taglist // if you want to be added or taken off just message me :) //:

@zaynzierulez // @je-like-you // @dracoxxyoflam // @jackiehollanderr // @majo240820 // @kay-gilles // @booksb4looksstuff // @jckie94 // @charmed-asylum // @shawnie--jo // @yllwtaxi // @tailsoflightning //@giuliarogers

[baroquebucky]

baking

a/n: this fic is for the sweetest person @broken-hearted-barnes !!! you deserve the world and more and you’re so amazing and ilysm !!! i hope you enjoy it :~) <3 also im trying out a new format (???) for my fics, let me know what you guys think !

in which you and bucky bake together

masterlist

Baking. Your escape from the world, your muse, and best of all, delicious food. You baked all the time at the tower when you had a chance. Everyone would beg you on the way back from a mission to make some cookies, a pie, a cake or anything at all, they adored your baking. You tried teaching them so they could learn themselves but it was way too much of a shitshow. Tony tried to eat the batter, Steve got confused half way through, Nat didn’t even try, Clint shook his head as soon as you extended an apron his way, Thor tried the most, but it just wasn’t for him. Sam looked at you, laughed, and turned back around. Bucky blushed deeply, eyes going wide before looking down. And Bruce kept getting distracted by Tony messing with his batter. You even tried teaching Peter, who nailed it but was terrified as soon as he presented his pastries to the team, almost getting ran over as they all scrambled to get some. Safe to say he wouldn’t bake in the tower anytime soon.

So for the time being it was just you baking. You were okay with that, you didn’t have to share your supplies or your kitchen, you could just blast your music and enjoy the sweet, sweet smells of the food you made. Then you realized that someone had been using your ingredients, your utensils were slightly misplaced to the right and the over smelled slightly like raspberries. Strange. You shrugged it off and continued about your day, training and following your own routine. Then you heard the mention of the red fruit you smelled before and your ears perked up.

“those raspberry scones you made were amazing barnes! You’ve been holding back on us” sam spoke loudly, you rounded the corner and you could see a very red bucky, rolling his eyes at his friend. “wait until y/n finds out you can bake, she’s gonna freak out” Bucky’s blush deepened and Steve nudged his shoulder.

“you know if you asked her out she’d say yes” he looked at him pointedly, and Buckys smile faltered a bit. He shook his head slightly, his long hair falling into his face. “i don’t think I’m her type, she likes all those celebrities with curly hair” he spoke, looking at the other two men in the room. As Steve was gonna speak your you entered the room, ready to give an earful to bucky.

Then he looked at you and any anger you had melted away, you were left with fondness and the want to kiss him all over. “uh hi” you spoke, a bashful smile on your face as he gave you a grin. “hi” he replied, a giant smile on his face as his eyes darted between you and the floor. “Do you guys know who baked earlier? It smelled really good in the kitchen, like raspberries.” You looked ag Bucky, he knew that he was caught.

With a laugh Steve and Sam both yelled out “it was Bucky!” Before darting out of the room, leaving the two of you together. Your eyes landed on the super soldier in question, chills running down your body as your eyes locked. You felt goosebumps rise on your arms, you rarely ever got cold, the tower was always the perfect temperature, what the hell was going on. From down the hall Sam and Steve told FRIDAY to lower the temperature in the room the two of you were in, they knew bucky would give you his sweater in an instant.

“So you like to bake huh” you smiled, sitting close to bucky, unintentionally scooting closed so you could feel his body heat. Bucky looked at you and noticed how cold you were, instantly taking off his bomber jacket and sliding it over your shoulders. “sorry i hate the cold” you smiled sheepishly as you held the jacket closer to your body. “Don’t worry about it doll, looks better on you anyway.” He smiled, eyes going wide as he realized what he had just said. You blushed deeply, suddenly growing very warm at his words.

“you can’t avoid my question barnes, you like to bake?” You held eye contact with him and he smiled, looking down at the ground before nodding and looking back up at you. “I didn’t want to take that from you, I always thought baking was your thing so why intrude on it” he shrugged his shoulder, looking at his finger while you studied his side profile.

“i really want to stab you right now buck” you sighed, laughing as his eyes went wide for a second, “it could’ve been our thing this whole time! I love having someone else baking with me, hence why i gave everyone baking lessons.” He smiled at you and moved ever so slightly so that both of you were pressed up against each other.

“you’d really want me in there with you?” He turned to look at you, butterflies in your stomach as the two of you grew closer. You nodded, not trusting your voice. The two of you glanced at the others lips, too scared to make a move first. You both stayed like that for a while, just trying to memorize every small feature on the others face. Then you pushed forward, your lips landing on his softly, kissing him gently. He smiled into the kiss, immediately reciprocating your movements as giggles left your mouth.

Days passed and you and bucky were almost always in the kitchen when you weren’t busy. The team was more than happy, getting many pastries in return for dealing with how sickeningly cute you and bucky acted all the time. You had realized yesterday after baking a cake for the team that you were low on supplies, so you made a mental note to go tomorrow to buy some more so you didn’t run out.

When you woke up early the next morning you got dressed, not bothering to tell anyone you were heading out. You calmly went through the aisles of the grocery store, leaning on your shopping cart and walking slowly to try and spot the brand of flour you use. You hummed along to the song softly playing over the speakers, putting the bag of flour in your cart before heading to get the sugar.

Bucky woke up nervous. He barely slept last night because of a nightmare he had of you. He knew it wasn’t real but he had to make sure you were okay. You never woke up early so he immediately went to your room and softly opened the door, expecting you to be sleeping soundly under your too many blankets. Bucky’s heart dropped when he saw how messy your sheets were. Signs of a struggle.

Yeah there was a struggle; a struggle to get out of bed so you could keep to your schedule.

Bucky ran back to his room, grabbing his phone and calling you, texting you and even leaving a fucking voicemail. You didn’t answer.

As you cruises down the shopping aisles, getting some peach lifesavers to make bucky try, you wondered if you should stop by the coffee shop you loved and get something really quickly. You smiled to yourself and headed to checkout, forgetting you never took your phone off Do Not Disturb.

Bucky ran all over the tower looking for you, asking FRIDAY and every living being if they had seen you. Everyone was both shocked and amused that Barnes was losing his mind over you not being in your room, they assumed you went for a walk but Bucky didn’t want to believe them, he was too paranoid.

You decided against getting the drink, heading straight home instead, your heart fluttering at the thought of bucky missing you. You smiled to yourself and tapped on the steering wheel to the beat of the your music.

Bucky slipped on his boots and fixed the knife near his ankle, he was gonna find you no matter what. It wouldn’t be that hard considering you were already pulling into the tower and trying your best to carry all the bags at once.

Bucky rushes out the tower, a menacing look on his face, searching everywhere for your face. You locked the car door and immediately booked it for the doors, not wanting to risk dropping a bag and having to make two trips.

As you ran towards the doors, Bucky game out of them, his menacing expression fading away as he ran towards you arms open and smile on his face.

“don’t hug me! Get a damn bag and help me dammit” you laughed, pushing him softly as he took all your bags and you sighed in relief. “okay I get it you’re strong” you giggled, noticing how stressed out he looked you furrowed your brows.

“bucky are you okay? you look stressed” you noted, he smiled sheepishly at the ground before turning to you when you entered the kitchen. “I’m not- well anymore at least” he chuckled and you cocked your head, urging him to continue.

“i- well when i woke up you weren’t here and so i freaked out and” he pulled the knife from beside his ankle and the gun he had behind his back, “i was gonna go look for you to make sure you were okay.” He blushed and you felt your heart explode into a million pieces, a giant smile spreading on your face as you jumped into his arms. He held you up with ease and buried his face in your neck, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“you are too much james” you whispered, smiling as he set you down softly. “I went to go get more baking supplies, we were running low, and i just realized my phone was on do not disturb, so sorry for missing your” you glanced down at your phone and you choked on your spit, “36 missed calls” you bursted our laughing and he frowned at you. You gave him a small kiss on the cheek before jumping up on the counter next to him, swinging your legs.

“well? if you were so worried then put the things away or else im really gonna be distressed because i hate putting groceries away” you smiled at him and he rolled his eyes, giving you a kiss on your lips before moving to put everything away.

“im only doing this so you can teach me how you made the scones the other day” bucky smiled at you from behind a cabinet and you laughed. “secret recipe” you piped up, sliding off the counter and hugging him from behind.

The kitchen was your guys’ safe place, a place where you could mess around and be disgustingly cute. A place to kiss between tasting batter and have one too many flour fights. Baking in the kitchen with your Bucky was your safe place. 

[thoseofgreatambition]

Dear George || Gred and Feorge

pt 1 || pt 2 

description: Though he didn’t like to speak of it, George struggled after the war. He’d let himself lose step of things in the comfort of soft bodies and the hope of forever. Sleep escaped him. Worry consumed him. A spark of hope came from the cunning Gwendolyn. George tries hard to squash any thoughts down, to escape the cycle of mistakes. 

a/n: I am so shocked y’all liked the last chapter! I hope y’all keep liking it. I’ve been hoping to convey my intention through this fanfic well, and I hope my messages about different types of health start to come through. 

warnings: anxiety

Pairing: George x OC

Wordcount: 1.6K

“Hey Gred!” Fred was smiling brightly at his brother as George came through the fireplace. Fred was standing in their kitchen in front of a series of potions that he was going through dose by dose. His cane sat atop the counter next to a pile of product prototype sketches.

The elder of the twins hadn’t had too much to drink, seeing as it had been so long since he’d been able to, but it was just enough to keep him quite happy. He forced another potion down his throat, wincing at the taste. He’d complain about how many he had to take, but he was simply happy that the number was going down. “Where’d you go off to with Gwen?” If it had been a few months earlier, Fred would be quite confident with the answer to that question, but now he wasn’t quite sure.  

They hadn’t really talked about George’s behavior after the war, but Fred was happy his brother seemed back to himself. George, for a short while after the war, had thrust himself into a series of ill advised relationships. The girls had all been a tad off their rocker but then again, George had been the same. Fred knew his brother was seeking companionship instead of actually dealing with the after effects of the war.

Really, Fred was much less worried about him nowadays, though the fact George couldn’t sleep was cause for concern.

He was curious about what had happened with Gwen though. He hadn’t seen her since before the battle, and tonight he hadn’t really gotten to talk with her. Hopefully she’d start coming back to London more often.

George raised the bottle of potion and the satchel of tea he’d been given as he walked towards the kitchen. “I told her that I can’t sleep and she helped me out.” There was a bit of hope in his chest that had gone away several months before when his other routes of relief had petered out. He’d sat with Gwen during potions. He knew she was good at this, and had faith in her.

He frowned as he noticed Fred all ready for bed and already working on his medicines. George wouldn’t say he coddled his twin, but after the war he’d been the largest caretaker in Fred’s life. More so than anyone else in the family. “You need any help there mate?”

With a shake of his head, Fred downed the rest of his potions. “Nah, I’ve got it.” He gave George a smile, quite certain as to what his partner was thinking. “You can take a break now.” As much as he appreciated all the help George had given him, it was nice to be a bit more independent now, and Fred wanted to start taking more care of himself.

Unsure of what to do with himself, without the task of taking care of his brother, George nodded and took the potion Gwen had given him. “I’m going to try and sleep.” Fixing the tea was next on his list, and he was hopeful that this might work. He situated himself next to Fred in the kitchen, leaning against a counter across from the stove as he flicked his wand to start the tea.

“Let’s try and work more on the Concentrating Candies tomorrow. I’m pretty confident we can get the recipe right with a little more tweaking.” Maybe they could get Ron or Lee to help out. Testing the candies on themselves time after time wasn’t always much fun. “We ought to get more test subjects this time, it’ll help out our sample size.”

Last time they’d made the candies too strong, and had spent the day hyperfocused on the shop. At least everything had gotten cleaned, George mused.

Fred nodded as he chugged the contents of a water glass. After taking those potions for so long you’d think he’d be used to the taste, but that wasn’t the case. He tried not to shudder as he focused on what George was saying. “That’s a good idea.” He knew what test subjects George was thinking of. “Let’s ask Ron. I think Lee’s busy tomorrow.”

Ron was more likely. He’d been quite helpful after the battle. When the twins had returned to their shop, it had been ransacked. Their inventory was all over the floor, shelves were broken, and there was enough soot to suggest that several small fires had taken place somehow. Fred had reckoned there’d been some misplaced spells when they’d left. The twins and Ron had been able to fix up the shop itself, and it looked almost as good as new. The problem they had now was replacing lost inventory. It was like starting from square one.

“I’ll pop over to his place in the morning and ask him to come over and help.” George stretched as he moved away from the counter. He was in a strange grey area at the moment, where his body felt tired from a long day, but his mind was far too awake to let him rest. “G’night Forge. Call for me if you need anything.” He clapped Fred on the back before walking out of their small kitchen, down the hallway and into his room.

Part of him was tempted to just head to bed and hope for the best. He took a sip of his tea, and decided against the idea. It hadn’t really worked for him in the past, and after all he’d promised Gwen a letter written tonight. With a flick of his wand he moved all of the clutter off of his desk, and sat down with a piece of parchment.

Gwendolyn, Gwen, Dear Gwen,

It’s about 1 a.m. I just took the potion that you gave me tonight, or yesterday, depending on how technical you want to get, and I’m drinking the tea. I hope you know that the potion tastes like piss. The tea is quite nice though, seems like something Mum would like. If everything works I won’t complain, and I’ll be sure to visit and pay you back somehow. If this works we aren’t even anymore, I’ll definitely owe you. Start thinking about what you want, alright?

Turns out I didn’t need to rush home back to Fred, he was quite alright without me, got all ready by himself. I shouldn’t be so surprised. He’s gotten loads better. It’s been almost a year since the battle after all.

George frowned and re-read what he had written. It was quite a frank telling of what was going on, but at the moment he was just tipsy enough to not really care if he was getting too personal.

It was weird. I haven’t minded taking care of him in the least, I know he’d do the same for me in a second, but it was almost disappointing that I couldn’t help this time. I’m happy, I’m very happy, but I don’t know quite what to do with myself at the moment. Have you got a potion for mixed feelings? I’d like to buy that one.

You wanted a joke didn’t you? One that isn’t an ear pun?

My friends say I say too many skeleton jokes. I suppose I ought to put more backbone in them.

Still a pun, but you ought to like it. I can’t exactly turn a phrase in a letter after all.

Fred and I are going to be working on our Concentrating Candies tomorrow. Those school aides I told you about. It’s a tricky recipe so far. First batch made us more distracted. Second batch made us sick. Third made us too focused. We did get quite a lot done on that last one though, so at least it was closer. We’re hoping to just get something done that will help students focus enough to not get easily distracted during a test or while studying, but it’s easy to get to too much or too little.

We’ll be doing the next batch tomorrow. I’m going to see if Ron or Lee can help us, it’s a bit better indicator if something works if more people can test it.

It’s actually really nice talking to you again, even if it’s just been tonight and through letters.

You ought to come by London more. Your old friends miss you here.

Don’t you want to open a shop up in Diagon Alley? There’s a lot of empty places now, that are going for pretty cheap. You ought to look into it. We could be neighbors. That would be nice. We don’t know a lot of people who live here. Fred and I are the youngest ones here.

I hope your Dad didn’t mind me popping over. From what you told me though he was probably happy to get another customer.

If this potion works I’ll be buying them from now on. It’s only fair.

George finished off the last of his tea, and felt himself growing more and more drowsy as time passed. Still, he wanted to finish the letter before he went to bed. He’d promised after all. 
 A lot of us that used to be on the Quidditch team, or at least on the Gryffindor one, are talking about doing a small game together. I’ll let you know when it’ll be. I expect you to come to it and play with us.

No more hiding away in Wales.

I was actually really happy when Fred suggested we do a reunion tonight. It was all slapped together, but it was really nice to see him well enough to go out and excited to see all his old friends together. I think it’s been hard seeing people visit him just because he’s been unwell.

I’m glad you came, it was fun talking to you.

I’m actually getting pretty beat now, so I guess you were right, relaxing before bed works pretty well. I think your potion is helping too.

I’ve got to go to bed now, so I’ll send this with an owl to you. I expect a response as soon as you can. I’m not letting you go so long without talking to anyone again.

From George From Gred Sincerely George George

George did a quick read over of what he had written before shrugging. It was a pretty personal one, but he trusted Gwen enough with all of this, and he was too tired to rewrite the damn thing.

Quick as he could, he folded the letter into an envelope, sealed it with a bit of wax, and handed it to the owl he and Fred shared. “Take this to Gwen, alright Peeves?” There was a muffled hoot in response, before the barn owl took off out of the window.

The redhead stretched and let out a yawn. He could already feel the fact that he was going to sleep quite well tonight. That was certainly going to be a pleasant change of pace.

Climbing into bed, George expected to be hit by the typical wave of concerns and busy thoughts that kept him awake all too often. Tonight though, he felt much more at ease. It wasn’t as if he thought Gwen was wrong when she said writing a letter would help, but he hadn’t exactly thought that writing down his thoughts would have such a big impact. Turning over onto his side, he shrugged the blankets on top of himself and closed his eyes.

For the first time in a very long while, George Weasley slept well.

taglist: @harrysweasleys @geeksareunique @insearchofnewdreams @notstandingstill-imlyinginwait @lumos-barnes @thatfuckingliardavidtennant @slytherinqween @xinyourdreamsx @skiving-snackboxess @wildfire-whizbangs @dwarfwizard-from-panem @diary-of-an-onliner @answer-the-sirens @woakiees @black-widow-fangirl @theheirofnightandday @summerstardust @whysoseriouspadfoot @chocok22 @myhopesareanchoredinyou @siriusblackisme @illusivedaydreamer @zeeneee @writingwitchly @wolfpotter12 @obsessedwithrandomthings @carolinesbookworld @shadowsinger11 @pit-and-the-pen @summer-writes @peachesandpinks @ickle-ronniekins @gweaslvy @alpinewinchester

[fanfic-scribbles]

Gremlins

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Bucky’s shirts keep going missing. It isn’t a problem, per se. It’s just annoying.

Quick facts: Romance – [established] Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers/Reader –Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Reader gender is undefined but ‘sweetheart’ is used as pet name

Words: 2291

A/N: Just a sweet little something. Please enjoy.

   ~

Bucky’s shirts keep going missing.

Maybe he’s just being forgetful; it’s bound to happen when you’ve had your brains scrambled for the span of the average person’s lifetime. Honestly, he considers it a miracle he’s as well-adjusted as he is. Misplacing a few shirts? He knows one in particular was pretty well-worn; he probably wrecked them bad enough that he had to throw them out. He can do that now– throw things out.

(Within reason, of course; he’s not wasteful.)

“Hi Bucky.” You wrap your arms around his middle and he lets his eyes fall shut for a few blissful moments as you snuggle into his back. Warm coffee in hand and one of his partners holding him close– if Steve wasn’t such a hyperactive jerk Bucky would be having the best morning ever.

But Bucky smiles as he takes a long drink, because he can’t begrudge Steve that. Steve spent most of his life with a body that couldn’t, and now that he can, he’s taking it for all he’s worth. Bucky can, sort of, kind of, relate now.

Though mostly after six a.m.

“When are you going to meet Steve?”

Bucky checks his watch. “I’m gonna head out as soon as I finish my coffee.”

“Good. Wear him out, will ya?”

Bucky chuckles into his mug. Yeah, four a.m. wake-ups are justified by nothing. He downs the last dregs, slides his cup onto the counter, and turns around to pick you up. You yelp and swat at him and he laughs and nuzzles you and– he lingers, for a little bit, because you smell a little like him. And Steve; but mostly him.

It’s starting to do things that will make it impossible for him to leave the house if he stays any longer, so he gives you a kiss and lets you down. “You wanna come with, sweetheart?” Bucky teases, already knowing the answer.

Sure enough you look down at your pajama-clad body and then give him a look like he’s lucky he’s cute. “Absolutely…not.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, mostly because it makes you laugh, and then he grabs his gym bag and heads out to meet Steve at the Tower. On his way he makes a memo in his phone to buy a few extra shirts, and with that, the main problem of his life is as good as solved.

~

For about a week. And then he is, again, staring into a closet that has clothes just not the ones he’s looking for.

“Hey Buck.” Steve sidles up next to him and kisses his cheek. “What’re you lookin’ for?”

“A shirt,” Bucky says, still staring. Unfortunately, the clothing item in question does not materialize.

“Well you’ve got plenty to choose from.”

“One shirt in particular.” Bucky shoots Steve a glare. “Smartass.”

Steve chuckles and peers into the closet. “Which one?”

“That dark blue one with the black buttons?”

“Oh, you look good in that one,” Steve says, tone changing appreciatively.

“Damn right,” Bucky says. “And it’s comfortable. And it’s gone.”

“I’m sure it’s somewhere.” Steve says your name with an inquisitive tilt.

“Hasn’t seen it,” Bucky grunts and continues to stare ahead. He knows he’s getting too fixated on this but he just can’t help it. Where are these things going? “We got fucking gremlins or something.”

“And those gremlins need your clothes?”

Bucky scowls at Steve. Steve grins and gently shuts the door, then moves in to lean his back against it. “It’ll turn up eventually,” he says. His face tilts to the side as he tries on a smirk, like he still isn’t quite sure how to consciously make the shift from the awkward ugly duckling he thinks he used to be, to the rightfully cocky bastard Bucky knows he really is inside. “In the meantime– want to do something that requires no clothes at all?”

Bucky thinks that you might have a point when you say that it’s a good thing Steve doesn’t really know how to properly wield his true power. However, Bucky has always been an easy mark for Steve– and sometimes that’s not so bad.

~

This is a new shirt.

Bucky really likes it.

It, too, is gone.

“What the fuck,” Bucky says and flings the not-favorite shirt across the room. It lands with a ‘thud!’

And an “Mm!”

He whips his head around and sees you peeling the shirt off your face. You give it a once-over and then turn a wry smile at him. “At least it’s clean.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” he says and gets up.

You hand it back and look over the small piles of clothing scattered across the bedroom floor. “What’s going on? Is that shirt still missing?”

“Four shirts,” Bucky grumps and flings the one he’s holding down to the floor. He rests his forehead on your shoulder and sighs. “I don’t know what the hell I did with them.”

He expects comfort, but the way your body tenses is…confusing. At first he thinks he’s heavy or has somehow made you physically uncomfortable, but before he can pull away you rub his shoulders and absolutely every aspect of that motion feels awkward.

And when you say, “I’m sure they’ll turn up eventually,” he knows you’re hiding something. He just doesn’t know what.

Or why.

~

He still can’t figure it out, days later, when two of his shirts are returned to his closet like they had never left. Their homecoming might have even been missed, had Bucky not quickly made up a closet system known only to him. And here they are, freshly laundered, pressed, hanging nicely, nothing in the seams or– not that he ever thinks you would, but he just can’t fathom what you’ve been doing with them. You haven’t been wearing them, he would have noticed right away and he would not have been up a wall wondering where they were.

There are still two missing, but at least now he’s fairly certain he knows where they are. Or at least, who has them. He could confront you about it, but you might clam up and refuse to ever tell him why. The easiest way to go about this is to find them before you can put them back.

Unfortunately he doesn’t get a chance to think of a plan– he and Steve get a call to head out in an hour and an otherwise quiet afternoon turns into a flurry of activity as Steve and Bucky get debriefed and then rush to pack. You, ostensibly, are trying to help, but you end up mostly getting in the way.

“Hey,” Bucky says and pulls you aside so that Steve can finish checking the bags. “Me and Stevie’ve got this; we’ll be in and out and back in no time.”

“Mm hm,” you say, obviously still distressed, but you wrap your arms around him tightly, bury your face in his shoulder, and breathe in deeply.

Steve comes over and wraps his arms around you both. “I promise, it’s gonna be fine.” You turn your head to nuzzle Steve’s chest, then put one arm around him and grip him just as tight.

Bucky and Steve stay with you for several moments until the incessant buzzing of their phones annoy even you, and you see them out the door. Bucky spends the drive out to the plane getting his head right so he and Steve can come home safe and keep their promise to you.

~

It’s a few days later and past midnight when Bucky gets home. Steve has more to do but has sent Bucky ahead, hoping the early arrival will help ease your nerves.

The house is quiet and dark and Bucky moves through it easily, checking entry points on his way up. When he makes it to the bedroom doorway he stops and takes in the sight of you, sleeping soundly. His body relaxes in ways he hadn’t even known he was tense, and he shucks his clothes until he gets to his underwear, and then crawls into bed.

You stir and he’s quick to grab your hand and whisper reassuring nothings to you. The sheets are pretty rumpled, like you’ve been having a rough night, though when your eyes open you’re not panicked.

“Bucky,” you whisper with a smile and hug him. “Steve?”

“He’s just fine,” Bucky says and kisses you. The feel of your skin is so grounding he nuzzles closer.

“Bucky,” you laugh and arch your neck. Bucky takes the opening and digs his face in between you and fabric that…does not feel like the sheets. He brings his face back and pulls at the mystery cloth.

It’s one of Steve’s shirts.

“Uh oh,” you say under your breath and move your hand to cover that part of the bed. Bucky slips his hand under yours and brings out another shirt from under you.

His shirt. Wrinkled and creased but clean. He stares at you, wondering. You stare at something across the room. He moves in between you and that fixed point and continues to stare at you, unsure of what he needs to ask but having questions nonetheless.

You look at him, at the shirts, at him, at the shirts, him, the shirts, him.

“Oh hey.” You smile at him, lips twitching a little. “Looks like you found your shirt?”

~

In the morning Bucky is still confused.

You're trying to drown yourself in your cereal.

Steve thinks it’s hilarious.

“Guess you found your gremlin,” Steve teases Bucky and takes another big bite of his breakfast.

That at least makes you lift your head. “I’m a what?”

“I didn’t know it was you,” Bucky says. When you give him the stink-eye he insists, “Really! At least, not at first. And then I wanted to figure out…I still want to know…why?”

You shift like you’re going to literally crawl away in shame but Bucky puts his hand on the back of your chair, blocking your side escape with his arm. “I’m not making fun; I just want to know.”

You shrug half-heartedly and look elsewhere. “It’s…nice to have when you guys are gone. It feels like having part of you still with me.”

Bucky considers that and thinks of all the times, even recently, that he’s come up behind you and buried his face in the crook of your neck, and how you do the same. How you lift Steve’s arm and rest it over you as you press your face against him; how you’ll steal Bucky’s blanket and wrap yourself up in it. In retrospect, the ‘why’ is quite obvious.

You fidget your fingers in the silence. “That didn’t sound as dumb in my head, I swear.”

“I don’t think it sounds dumb,” Steve says and puts his hand on yours.

You look at Bucky as he thinks on it. “Okay,” he says eventually. “But…why do they have to be all my favorite shirts?”

There’s that ‘you’re lucky you’re cute’ look again. “They need to be the shirts you wear the most.” ‘Obviously’ is unspoken but so present he almost physically feels it.

Bucky rolls his eyes, because, unlike Steve, it’s not like he only wears the same five shirts and has enough of a stock that he doesn’t notice when one goes missing. “We’ll have to work something out then. In the meantime– ask when you want one.”

“Okay.” You scoot over to hug Bucky. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay sweetheart.” Bucky kisses your head. “And for what it’s worth, you’re the best-looking gremlin I’ve ever seen.”

You pinch him and, because Bucky loves you, he pretends to feel it.

~

After breakfast you’re all in the bedroom. You and Steve are relaxing in the reading chairs while Bucky unpacks his bag, because he’s not a slob (Steve), and once everything is put away or tossed into the laundry basket, Bucky stands in front of his closet and feels a sense of peace.

Well, almost.

“Hey,” Bucky says. “Where’s that one red shirt?”

“Hm?” You lift your head from your book and blink.

“The dark red shirt, with the long sleeves.”

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

He says your name in warning.

“Honest!” You shut the book and frown deeply. “Trust me, I wanted that one the most because you wore it all the time but it just van–…ished…”

Both you and Bucky turn your heads to look at Steve. He holds out for all of five seconds before he sighs and puts down his own book, goes over to his bag, and fishes around until he brings out rumpled red fabric.

“What the hell?” Bucky blurts out. “I was with you!”

“Yeah! What the hell?!” you pipe in with outrage that overshadows Bucky’s and makes him snap his head back to you.

“You got his other shirts,” Steve says defensively.

“You got him! I should get the best shirt to curl up with!”

“It’s my goddamn shirt!” Bucky interjects. You and Steve look at him and then share a look where you both, apparently, instantly resolve all your differences. You get up casually (“casually” his shiny metal bicep) and you and Steve both sidle on over like absolutely nothing is the matter.

“Come on Bucky,” Steve says, getting behind him and sliding his hands, one of which is still holding the shirt, over Bucky’s shoulders. “Do you really need one shirt?”

“Yeah,” you say, coming around on his other side and pressing close. “It’s just one shirt. Maybe we can all share it?”

“Well…” Bucky sighs and leans back into Steve.

And snatches his shirt and slips out to the sound of both of you protesting and whining.

He’s going to order a padlock for his dresser. And do his own goddamn laundry from now on.

Fucking gremlins.

[pastelwitchling]

SEQUEL PROMPTS ARE CLOSED.

This prompt is a sequel to this (Chapter 122).

TW: Possessive behavior.

Congrats on reaching 700, I love your blog so much your one of my favorite rnm people to follow!!!! I was wondering, if you want, would you be able to do a sequel to the Michael finding out max has feelings for Alex fic you did. I loved that story and the feels it gave me, lol.

***

Max had no idea how hard it would be to avoid Alex until he was actively trying to.

He couldn’t believe it. Before Christmas, he almost never saw the guy, now it was like the universe was having them run into each other every few hours. But Max had to keep away, because he’d figured out his problem.

This infatuation with Alex, it was just misplaced fondness, that was all. He liked having a friend who he could talk to about novels, who understood how it felt to be a leader, to have that need to protect the people he loved, who could make him laugh just by looking him in the eye. And in his heartbreak over his separation from Liz, he’d misconstrued that desire for friendship into something more.

Max had felt like a genius with that revelation, determined to simply stay away from the airman for a while, just until his heart stopped doing that pesky thing where it jumped in his chest at the mere sight of Alex. Of course, he quickly realized that when his brother was so in love with the airman, and that when Michael and Alex had some kind of weird magnetism that kept them in one another’s orbit, and when they needed Alex’s help for virtually every other thing, staying away from Alex was next to impossible.

So now? Now Max was standing across Alex in his Air Force uniform, a table separating them (strategically, of course, Max was no idiot) as the airman pointed out entrance and exit points on a blueprint of another Project Shepherd facility he suspected had valuable alien technology.

“I’ve been working on hacking the security footage, but as the place is meant to be top secret, there’s very little material to work with.” With a glance at Kyle who nodded encouragingly, Alex smirked. “But we’re getting close.”

“This is bound to tell us something about our past,” Isobel said. “Some of that material from the barn fire must’ve been preserved. I can’t imagine it being destroyed.”

“When it was meant to withhold the pressure and temperature of outer space? No,” Alex reassured her. “I know my family saved it somewhere, and I have a feeling it’s there.” He pointed at the blueprint again, his touch a little rough, and Max leaned in slightly.

“Well, if anyone’s going to save what’s left of our pods, it’ll be you, Alex. We trust you.”

That was probably the wrong thing to say, Max realized too late as Michael glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes, but as Alex’s expression seemed to brighten, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

Even after everything Alex had done for them, after everything he was risking, he still talked about himself as if he was an enemy that they were keeping on tight watch, and that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Alex was their hero, their only light and hope in a crap-ton of misery and fear – how did he not know that? How did he not know how grateful they all were to him, how much they all owed him?

Then Max caught his brother’s narrowed his eyes, and realized he’d been smiling to himself at the thought of Alex. He cleared his throat and dimmed his expression as Kyle began rolling up the blueprint.

“Alex and I will get to work on the symbols,” Michael said, his arms still crossed. Max noticed his brother was still watching him. “If we stay overnight, we should be done in a few days.”

“Guerin, he needs rest,” Kyle was barely saying before Alex was nodding.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured his friend. “I’ll finish at the base in a few hours, and come back here.”

Michael nodded, shot his brother another look, and walked off to the bunker door. Max took that as his cue to leave, too, but before he could, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Alex was smiling kindly at him. “Hey, I wanted to thank you.”

Max blinked, unconsciously taking a step back. “Th – uh – thank me?”

“Yeah,” Alex chuckled. He pulled a small book out of his back pocket. “Journaling was a great idea. It really helped me get a lot out. So, you know, thank you.”

“Oh yeah?” Max felt a grin pull at his lips. Then he glanced over his shoulder at where Michael still stood, his smile fell, and he crossed his arms. “You, you know, look better. C-calmer, I mean.”

Max supposed it was too much to hope that Alex hadn’t noticed his covert looks to his brother. He was an Air Force captain after all, wasn’t it his job to notice everything?

Alex followed his gaze, and his own smile fell, too. “He said something to you, didn’t he?”

Max opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. He considered lying, but Alex’s eyes were so full of light despite the rigidness of his shoulders, the small upward lilt of his lips so sad that Max couldn’t help but think that between the Manes family and Michael, the last thing Alex deserved was to be lied to again.

“He . . . loves you . . . very much,” he said slowly, picking his words out carefully. He might’ve expected Alex to scoff, to look annoyed, to be angry.

But the airman only looked down, his eyes shut, a look of utter resignation on his face. He knows, Max thought miserably. He knew how Michael felt for him, how possessive the cowboy was, and he knew that there was no way Michael was ever going to let anybody near him. He knew, and for a moment, he’d hoped that Max was different. But the curse of being loved by someone who didn’t want to be with him was stronger than ever, apparently, because not even Michael’s brother had a chance. And Alex would be destined for loneliness until the day Michael decided he’d truly moved on.

Alex lifted his head, a soft, sad smile at his lips. He nodded, as if to say he understood what Max wanted so desperately to say, and he walked past him, stuffing his journal back into his pocket.

Max stared at the place where Alex had been standing, unable to turn around even as the door to the bunker shut, echoing throughout the cold place. The place Alex had spent all of his time working to give Max, Michael, and Isobel all the answers they were looking for.

“You okay?” Michael asked, and Max shut his eyes a moment, silently asking for strength, before he turned around.

“He’s miserable,” Max said as calmly as he could. Michael’s frown deepened. “Would you just tell him how you feel? Because the guilt is starting to get to me.”

Michael looked over his shoulder as if to make sure Isobel and Kyle were too busy with each other, and when he turned back to his brother, his gaze was serious. “Don’t say stuff like that out loud.”

“Why?” Max shook his head. “Afraid someone will hear you and tell Alex? News flash, Michael; we all know you love Alex. Alex knows you love Alex, and it’s killing him!”

“Why do you care?” Michael asked after a moment of being unable to answer Max’s question. “What does it matter to you how Alex feels?”

“Because he’s helping us,” Max defended.

“So it’s nothing to do with what you wrote about him?” he said, suspicion clear in his expression.

Max stared. “You’re never going to stop punishing me, are you? You’re never going to forget about that stupid poem –”

“Yeah, I’m not, because I know you, Max,” he said savagely, “and you only write about what matters. And now you look at Alex like you – like he means something to you –”

“He does,” Max cut him off, and Michael turned still.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means . . . it means . . .” he shook his head. “It means I know what he is to you, and I know that you love him, I do, but that love is only making the both of you miserable, so either fix things with Alex, or . . .”

“Or what?” Michael’s voice lowered as he stepped closer to Max. Max could feel the ground vibrating. Michael was losing control. “Or what, Max?”

Max probably should’ve taken it all back, told Michael that it meant nothing, that he would do nothing. But then Alex came to mind, the way he’d looked down as if he’d known that here was one more person that didn’t think him worth fighting for. One more person that didn’t think he mattered.

Max’s gaze didn’t waver this time. “Or I’m going to get in between you, for your own good.”

Michael’s eyes flared, and Max was vaguely aware of Isobel and Kyle holding onto the table as the ground shook harder. They were startled, calling Michael’s name, trying to get him to stop. But they had no idea. Michael wouldn’t stop now, he didn’t have control, not when it came to Alex Manes.

“You wouldn’t. Not Alex.”

Max stepped closer, his voice barely over a whisper. “If you’re going to kill Alex, then somebody has to save him. Or you’ll never forgive yourself.”

“Michael, Max, what’re you guys doing?!” Isobel yelled as the bunker shook violently.

“This isn’t about protecting me,” Michael spat. “This is about your crush on him, and knowing that he’d never choose you over me!”

Max searched his brother’s face. “Why didn’t you choose him, Michael?”

Michael froze, the ground suddenly stopped shaking, and for a moment, it felt like the whole world had turned silent and still.

               “You can’t answer, can you?” Max asked, and Michael pursed his lips. To Max’s shock, his brother’s eyes filled with tears, but instead of giving him a response, Michael gave him a hollow smirk and turned to leave.

               “Max,” Isobel started tentatively a long moment after Michael slammed the door behind him. “What the hell was that?”

               “Wait a second,” Kyle shook his head, his brows furrowed. “You like Alex now?”

               When Max didn’t answer, Isobel pressed, “Do you?”

               Max caught his sister’s eyes, but said nothing. It doesn’t matter, he almost answered. Because Alex loved Michael, and Michael loved Alex, and now that his brother was threatened with losing Alex, he would do the right thing. He would confess his feelings to Alex, he would do everything in his power to keep the airman close.

               He would hate Max forever, it was true, but at least – at least – both Michael and Alex would be happy. That was something.

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Daegu Quarantine

Jungkook x reader

Gang/ zombie apocalypse au

Warnings:

Gore, violence, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?

Summary:

They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?

Word count: 2394

Part 10===Part 11===Part 12

“Alright Tae Bae, let’s see what’s going on with your system.”

In the time it had taken us to clean up after dinner, Taehyung had already set up everything he needed in order to communicate through remote video feed with his mentor.

I’d decided to join Taehyung and Jeanette in the security area of our basement living room, sliding in beside Jeanette on the overly large sofa and snuggling up beneath her blanket with a smile sent her way before focusing in on the conversation unfolding before us.

Tae was posted up on the floor, feet crossed in his lap and a large keyboard situated on top of his knees as his eyes roamed the information displayed on the massive tv hung on the wall. The screen itself flashed a myriad of information, lines of code and text along with a small set of squares at the bottom left corner that gave us a live view of the surrounding grounds and security checkpoints.

In the top left was a video feed of Black Rose, a sweet looking woman roughly my age whose smile lit up her whole face every time her eyes glanced back to what I assumed was Taehyung’s face displayed on her own screen. I couldn’t help but feel there was something more than the connection of mentor and apprentice between the two.

“I managed to trace the outside signal as far as the local area before I got cut off from it. Whatever it was that let them in was enough for them to feed my cameras a signal to loop come a certain time of day. That’s when the attack happened.” Taehyung frowned, glancing at the video image of the ashen haired woman and blushing brightly as he averted his gaze elsewhere.

“Sounds to me like they’ve been in your system before. Or are at least familiar with the type of code you were writing for it…”

I couldn’t help but glance over at Jeanette who seemed just as bewildered as I felt with all the technical jargon being thrown back and forth between them.

“Any idea what they’re saying?” I asked in an overly dramatic stage whisper.

Jeanette shook her head, blowing a bit of curly hair out of her eyes with a huff. “None in the slightest honestly. I’ve heard Jangmi talk like this before but it always goes way over my head.”

Tae snorted, his eyes darting to the two of us for a moment before focusing back in on his job. “Since I’ve got you here, could you run a backdoor screen for me? At least then I’ll know what I’m missing before we go whole hog on the fuckers.”

Black Rose shook her head, sighing lazily before typing quickly on her end. The sound of high speed clicking filled the speakers along with the sound of Taehyung’s own. The screen glowed a dark green color as line after line of letters and numbers and symbols flashed across it. Everything moved so fast that for a moment I grew dizzy just trying to keep up with it all.

Jungkook at that point wandered into the room, coming around the sofa to sit on its arm beside me and throw an extra long arm around my shoulders.

“Anything?” He asked, knowing that his words would interrupt Taehyung’s focus, he’d spoken in a low whisper just as Jeanette and I had.

“No clue to be honest, but damn if I wouldn’t be able to tell you anyway.” I glanced up at Kookie, blushing as he threw me a charming smile that, no matter how many times I’d seen it, still managed to make my insides flutter.

“Well let me see…” He looked over to the tv, eyes darting back and forth as he watched the words fly by.

“Every computer system, no matter how complicated, has a back door. They’re usually protected by something called a firewall, basically a shield the system has in place so your information can’t get stolen or your software can’t get hacked.” Jungkook’s fingers trailed along my shoulder, leaving trails of heat in their wake as he continued to watch the two computer geniuses work.

“What’s basically happening is Jangmi is attacking Tae’s firewall, trying to find any weaknesses in it to see how exactly the hackers got into our system.”

“HA!” A triumphant shout echoed through the speakers, jolting Taehyung out of his hyper focused stupor and causing him to stare at the screen in shock.

“Are you serious? That one line of god damn…”

“And here I thought I taught you well, little grasshopper. Such a shame that a tiny bit of code like that could cause such a massive amount of damage…” Black Rose hummed.

I couldn’t help but to watch in fascination as Taehyung basically melted down in front of us, rolling on the floor after discarding his keyboard and gripping his hair. He wailed like a little child, cursing and fussing and drawing full on belly laughs out of each of us as we watched him go on.

“One!! One goddamn misplaced comma...are you kidding me?” He groaned, reluctantly righting himself and pulling the keyboard into his lap once more.

“Well, fix it ya soggy noodle.” The woman paused, pulling a large cup into view and sipping from it before groaning in pleasure at the flavor of whatever her drink of choice was.

“I see you’re taking full advantage of the macchiato machine I got you.” Tae grunted, though his fierce typing belied the brief moment of a glance he’d made at her screen.

“Ya damn right I am.” Contrary to the accent she’d been speaking with, these words took on a distinctly New Yorker accent, one I’d only heard in movies and on youtube, but the change was so incredibly adorable I couldn’t help but giggle at her.

“I don’t uh...I don’t wanna interrupt but.” I glanced over to Tae who’s full attention was now on me.

“What is it Boss Lady?”

“Well, I’ve heard of like espresso machines but...a macchiato machine?”

Taehyung and Black Rose chuckled together, grinning a secret grin between the two of them.

“It’s not really like an espresso machine. Think of it like one of those industrial mixers you see in gas stations and stuff.” Tae typed into his keyboard, pulling up an image of the machine he mentioned. “It’s like a frozen yogurt machine but for macchiato mix.”

“It’s rather ingenious actually. All I had to do was get the right kind of mix and I’ve got all of my caffeine needs right here at my desk.”

“I prefer mine through a direct iv line.” A muttered voice spoke from behind the couch, drawing our attention to Yoongi who’d apparently been listening in on what we’d been talking over this whole time.

“Ah! A man after my own heart!” Black Rose grinned, giving Yoongi a thumbs up which he returned with a small smile in kind.

“Boss, we got an issue with Seokjin upstairs.” Yoongi frowned at Jungkook, though the look seemed to be more one of frustration than actual danger.

“What happened?” Jungkook stood, giving me a kiss to my forehead before heading back upstairs with Yoongi.

“Apparently his ‘second’ and I quote, ‘Is a no talent hack who couldn’t strip the paint off the broad side of a barn.”

“Overwatch?”

Yoongi sighed, “No, campaign mode on Halo…”

Taehyung snorted, returning his attention to the tv screen. “Alright. Let’s get that firewall fixed up and reverse track the signal.”

***

“Rose and Tae make a pretty incredible team huh?” Jeanette smiled softly as we watched the two work. We’d decided that speaking quieter gave us less of a chance of interrupting their focus as they worked.

“Yeah, But I kind of get the feeling there’s something between them. Don’t you?”

“Hmm…” 

I’d known Tae for only a short time, he’d come to us only a few years ago. And even though it’d been going on nearly 4 years I still couldn’t help but notice that the young man hardly ever really smiled unless Jimin was around.

Of course it could have been because they were so close in age, but it seemed like he preferred to stay by himself. With his line of expertise and the type of work he did I ended up, well not really avoiding him so much as just giving him space. But he seemed to really appreciate it. We became close in our distance. And that was okay.

“Are you seriously eating gummy bears while you’re at your computer?” Tae snorted, shaking his head as he watched his partner sheepishly grin.

“Hey, the last time we worked together like this you fussed at me because I was eating seaweed snacks over my keyboard. I’ll have no more of you fussing at me you hear!”

The two laughed, seeming to enjoy egging each other on as they worked. It felt comfortable, and was definitely a side of Taehyung I’d never seen before.

“Any luck?” Jeanette asked. She cuddled further into the blanket, seeming on edge as she watched the interaction happen.

“Does East Side ring a bell?” Black Rose’s eyes wandered her screen, eyebrows furrowed and a small frown tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Yeah...actually it does.” I grunted, pushing further  back into the comfort of the sofa.

“We were joined with them. A smaller branch of our main group that was in charge of keeping the East side of the city safe.Tension’s been high with them, even before all this mess came along.”

“I see. Well it seems like it was more than just tension.” Rose leaned back in her chair, iced coffee in hand as she pulled up an aerial view of the city for us all to see.

“This is satellite feed from a remote military camera that was monitoring the area a day ago. From the looks of things and going solely on the data I traced from Tae’s security hack, seems like these bastards have been plotting something for a while now.”

We watched intently as the feed zoomed in on the warehouse Kook, Yoongi, and I had run a rescue mission on not too long ago.

A group of people approached the front side of the building, busying themselves with something we couldn’t see while keeping a lookout for chatterers that happened to come their way. Rose accelerated the footage and we watched as, after moments more of fussing with whatever they were up to they retreated from the door.

“What the actual hell?” Tae whispered before yelping as a bright orange ball of what we could only assume was flames erupted at the door.

“So that’s how those things got in…” My body had tensed up at this point, anger pouring from me in waves as I leaned forward to glare at the tiny bodies pouring into the warehouse.

Rose cut the footage, a frown creeping onto her face as she glossed over what we now couldn’t see. “Looks like they made off with a bunch of stuff, some boxes and shit but dipped out before they could get overwhelmed. There’s no way anybody in there survived the wave of creepos that poured into the building after the fire settled.”

“Two of them survived...but not for very long.” I spat the words out bitterly, rising from the sofa and letting the blanket fall from my form as I began pacing behind the sofa.

Namjoon walked in, eyes following my every move as he walked around the sofa to sit in my place beside Jeanette, though he sat back at a respectable distance.

“I take it there’s bad news?”

Jungkook’s second in command was nothing if not astute and true to form; he'd gauged the atmosphere with no trouble.

“No oppa...shit news actually.”

I glanced over at him, eyes burning a hole into the back of his head despite the blush of red creeping up the back of his neck at the term of endearment.

“Well?” He turned to Tae, an eyebrow raised in question. But before the younger man could speak the sound of an explosion roared through the speakers, one so loud I could have sworn the ceiling above us rumbled along with the noise.

“What in the actual fuck?” I bolted over to the sofa, eyes wide as I scanned Rose’s video feed.

It seemed she’d been knocked out of view of the camera, which itself had been thrown from whatever stand she had set it up on and now lay on the ground. The only thing we could see was the trembling of the floor and a pale set of feet.

“Rose??? Rose can you hear me?” Jeanette had jumped from her seat, rushing over to the tv monitor and hastily scanning the live feed in the hopes of seeing her friend move.

“Shit...I’m okay...fuck...fucking god damn it what the hell?” A continued string of curses poured from the speakers as the feet finally began to move before disappearing from view.

Rose’s face finally came into focus as the camera lifted from the ground to focus on her dazed expression.”I don’t know what the hell that was but holy shit that fucking sucked donkey dick hole.”

“Bruh, the mouth on this woman I swear…” Namjoon shook his head, though the look of concern on his face never wavered.

“You good kid?” I asked, knowing the answer wouldn’t be pleasant.

“Yeah, though, the building I’m in probably isn’t.”

“Talk to me Jangmi, what happened?” Tae sat on his knees, seeming as if every inch of him was screaming to come to her defense.

“Well. From what my screens are telling me. Looks like those East Side assholes found me and are on their way up to my room.”

“Excuse me?” Jungkook had come down, surely drawn in by the commotion coming from the speakers that’d probably been heard all through the house. The others followed closely behind him, each wearing matching faces of either murder death stare or concern.

“I’m at the Daegu Grand Hotel. Have been for a while now. And like I said, from the looks of things the very people trying to get all of ya’lls shit are on their way up to greet me with a very impolite Korean gangster hello.”

[jbbuckybarnes]

Kinktober - Day 9

9/31 Pairing: Bucky x Reader Prompt: Handjob Warnings: 18+, unsafe sex

M A S T E R L I S T

Bucky's arm was currently being fixed and modified and seeing him try to open his belt was almost cute with his clumsiness. He'd quickly unlearned doing stuff with only one hand, including this. 

You had been having an odd friendship the last year since he joined the Avenger. You could talk about anything but you also started showing him the internet beyond Skype and that at one point included porn. You'd seen him naked. You both started having this weird routine of masturbating together. And now you were here. A thing nobody spoke about in the air and a man without his prosthetic next to you with the laptop open on your shared preferred site. After a while, you just leaned over and did it for him. "There you go." you looked up into a face with an expression you couldn't quite pinpoint. "Go on," he whispered and you opened the button of his pants, then the zipper, pushing down the pants a little till they were between your legs. The half erection was clearly visible now and you looked up at him biting his lip. "Please, go on." he held your eye contact and you gently pulled on his briefs to drag them down and uncover a full erection. "Could you, uh..." he started but you knew what he wanted and you spit in your hand before wrapping it around his length. "Fuck." his head went back for a moment before his hand pulled you a little closer and tried to dive into your underwear but you stopped him. "I can wait, want you to feel good, okay?" you whispered with so much softness that he melted inside. "Wow," he grumbled. "You like that?" you smirked up at him and got a squeeze of your left thigh and closed eyes back. "You're amazing," he mumbled before groaning. You bit your lip at the way his skin moved on his, well, big length. He was a super soldier after all. "You want that somewhere else, darling?" he lightened the situation. "You don't even understand." you looked up at eyes that suddenly were questioning, then full of lust and then somehow soft. "Fuck. This is not a good time to confess things. Bad." he murmured, his hand going to your jaw. "I'm literally giving you a handjob right now, this is absolutely a good time." you chuckled and he shook his head with a giant smile. "That's for later. Now I just need you to know that I want you sitting on me. Let me kiss you, I can show you instead of telling." he smiled up at you and you leaned forward for a gentle kiss, then a more passionate one. "Please get rid of that pretty red number." he murmured against your lips. You did, in a not so elegant way but he couldn't judge you for that, you just needed to help him open a damn belt.

The moment you were back in your sitting position half over him he reached out to your center, noticing how turned on you were, almost blushing. "I want you," he said soft and calm, like the fact it was. You helped yourself to sit on him and let his length vanish into you and he cherished every single of those moves like this was going to be the last time you were doing this. "You're amazing." he smiled up at you between the red cups of your bra. "Bucky? You're just as good." you leaned down for a soft kiss. "You feel so right in my arms." he continued. "Arm," you mumbled giggling and he grinned. "Everything about you is amazing." "Bucky?" "Hm?" "I really love soft and cute sex, but you need to let me move." you giggled and he noticed the grip he had around you. The hand landed on your left hip, ready to guide you. He watched himself come out of you and slide back in and started feeling intoxicated by you. "Fuck, falling for you was the best idea my heart ever had." he murmured with his head falling back to see you looking down at him and closing your eyes at the amazing feeling he could give you. "Finally you can say it. This unspoken thing has been killing me." you kissed him again after the next up and down. "Needing help in our already weird little porn sessions was a good thing, I guess." he laughed. "So good," you said and he couldn't quite point out if you answered him or meant the feeling between your legs. "You feel so great, darling." "You feel-" a moan interrupted you. "Is that so?" you both chuckled. "Fuck, yes." Since you didn't need much help with your position his hand wandered to help you out. You squealed at the warm thumb touching your soft spot. "God, that was adorable." he grinned up at you. Your head was lolling back and he felt your body being taken over by instincts that made you move sloppier. Hands were wandering to his neck and head, forearms to his shoulders, boobs into his face and then your face landed in his hair while you grabbed onto him to move deeper and more passionate. He was fascinated by you, every little inch of you, every corner of your personality and that bomb exploded with your hummed climax.

"I love you, Bucky." you looked at him exhausted, with sweaty hair and a dopey smile. "I love you too." he kissed you again. "Every part of you," you whispered. "Likewise." he smiled like a little boy. "Wow, not something you should say when sex is so directly involved." you giggled. "Fuck that rule. I love you and if I suddenly get the courage to tell you while you're riding me, I will." he chuckled, tracing your skin. "You have the body of a goddess," he added shortly after before you moved off of him. "It's pretty sexy to have such a strong arm to hold me so tight," you smirked. "So...are our porn dates actual dates now?" he asked. "That's what you're concerned with?" you giggled. "Of course. Need to know when to misplace my arm to get this again," he smirked. "You're a mess, Barnes."

Kinktober Masterlist

[smokinholsters]

A Decision at the Crossroads

A Heartland AU - Chapter 4 – Finale

While Ty went to fetch his phone Amy popped open one of the side panels on the trailer and unsnapped the table that was first in line. She reached her arms wide to grab it and start lifting it out when Ty showed up.

“Whoa easy Amy, I’ll get it.”

“I’m fine.”

“Of course you are now back up please.”

“Thank you Ty.” She said and stepped aside “and 5 of the chairs please.”

“Six actually Kelsey’s coming.”

“Kelsey ?”

“Dr. Burton, my namesake apparently.” He said laying the table on it’s side and unfolding the legs. “Hey, this is nice set up.”

“We take trips with kids, believe me a table is always easier and cleaner than watching them balance plates. Besides it’s more homey and civilized.”

“I’ll file that away” he said maneuvering the table and then placing chairs as Amy opened and gave them a wipe with a damp cloth as well as the table. She had also removed a little basket with a tablecloth sealed in a zip loc bag, and began to spread it. As well as counting out silverware found in the basket as well.

“Ty there’s another basket with plates and more pitchers.” She said watching him walk over as she grabbed one pitcher from her now empty basket and put it on the table.

They set the table together, each handling three settings and Amy ran in for a roll of paper towels. He watched as she took a second to look at the table, nodded and walked over to lower herself into a chair slowly. She was wearing a blue dungaree dress that went down to her knees, it had ¾ sleeves and embroidery along the hem and collar. Obviously a maternity dress, he was captivated by her shape.

“You need to stop staring at me Ty, I’m becoming very self conscious, I already think I look like a beach ball.”

“You don’t, I’m sorry, you look great. Two kids, one on the way, I’m, I don’t know….”

“Three actually, you’re the first to hear, Clint Riley called, they have a foster for us, a young boy named Luke Kashani, he’s nine. Clint’s bringing him Monday.”

“Clint Riley, he’s still around huh. That’s nice, keeping that tradition going.”

“Yeah, Scott, you, Georgie, remember Badger, it’s nice.”

“Mitch mentioned Georgie and something with Lou, he also told me about the divorce.”

“Georgie was an orphan who ran away from her foster family in Okotoks, she stowed away in Grandpa’s pickup and found her way to Heartland. She was a keeper. The divorce is what it was I guess, it’s now amicable with benefits apparently, works for them.”

“Georgie lives with Lou at Heartland ?”

“Lou took a condo in town when she became Mayor and lives there with Katie. We fixed up the loft when I got back from Europe as a nice studio and I lived there alone and then with Mitch for awhile before moving to Saddle River, his family ranch, his parents have an independent living condo in Calgary. Georgie and Quinn are engaged and live in the loft, Grandpa and Lisa live in the house.”

“I heard Jack married Lisa, I saw an article about the Hall of Fame that mentioned it. I’m sorry about your dad Amy, I read about his passing.”

“The death of a legend, it was a nice tribute.”

“I saw a tribute to Lou as Mayor too, ordering the stay in place at home and closing Maggie’s early on definitely seemed to make a difference in the area.”

“It did and I think she’ll be remembered for that, this is her last term, she’s not running again. Enough about Hudson, tell me about you, is there someone special, Kelsey maybe ?”

“Nah, Kelsey and I never, there have been women over the years but I’m free now, I’m picky I guess.”

“Well when it happens you’ll know.”

“You and Mitch look happy.”

“We are, very happy.”

“How’s Jack ?”

“Older, pretty much retired, his arthritis, heart problems, a hard 90, for a former bronc rider and Alberta cowboy not fun.”

“Lisa ?”

“Lisa’s good, the perfect grandmother, she loves the kids. So does Casey, Lyndy adores them both. Mitch’s folks too.”

“Casey, I know this.”

“McMurtry.”

“Right, McMurtry Rodeos, they come around every couple years.”

She noticed quickly enough that he had changed the subject. “Ty ? Are you happy ?”

Ty looked at her and into her eyes, Amy could see that he wasn’t teary but there was disappointment, a small sadness in his face “I guess, I mean I don’t think I’m unhappy.”

“Were you happier yesterday ? Mitch said he thought you might be having a case of the might have beens.”

“I didn’t need to see you for that. The baby was eye popping don’t get me wrong and not in a bad way Amy, you look amazing, really the, well,  the high school boyfriend comment, that sort of slammed a world of reality down on me.”

“That’s what we were, we were an actual couple for most of my high school 3rd year, my senior year was a nightmare, we were way better as friends than as a couple Ty, we were a lousy couple.” She was smiling and not being harsh, her tone somewhat softly nostalgic, it was in fact a long time ago.

“Come on, that’s a bit extreme don’t you think ?”

“Really ? You really think ?” She said,  again somewhat amused and again not in anything more than the nostalgia of it “we had a good few months, you know Kit and the Quarantine and then I won the Ring of Fire and rather than joining me and perhaps a later bike trip in the summer to see some of the world you decided that you needed to go off alone for a few weeks. So, after the excitement of motels with my dad on tour and while I spent the rest of the summer working and doing what used to be your job on top of mine you came home almost 4 months later with a huge dose of misplaced maturity and Blair. Then Chase stuck his nose in, we were a good couple for 7 months, maybe. Look Ty, I know about what Grandpa did and he told me what led up to that talk and him sending you off. I don’t know what brought you to that point or why you didn’t come home, but it was your decision, we all had to live with your decision.”

“Looking back, I don’t know either honestly.”

“And I don’t know what would have happened if you had but I do know this, my life with Mitch and our kids feels so right to me that I can’t imagine life without him being a part of it, I’m not saying this to hurt you Ty, but your best days are still ahead of you.”

“So this is the honest conversation part we didn’t do back then huh ?”

“This is it.”

“How do you do it and go on together ?”

“You say it, get it out of your system and have sex, then you fix it in the morning.” She answered smiling.

“Well to be fair we weren’t, at the time, you know.” He said smiling.

“That’s true”, Amy agreed and immediately blushed and then agreed with a smirky smile and a nod, “hey, you’ve,  you know, since, right ?”

“Huh ?” Then realizing she meant had sex, “oh, oh yeah, no worries.”

“So, you’re still driving a classic truck I see, what’s that an early 70’s GMC ?”

“Yeah,’73, hey, whatever happened to Harley and Old Blue ?”

“After a while Caleb took Harley because, well, it broke my heart to see him every day and he eventually found him a nice home with a couple kids who were going to share him.”

“Sorry, I really wanted to,,,,, forget it. And the truck ?”

“Grandpa kept the truck running and in front of the house for months figuring if nothing else you’d show up in the night and drive it off but you didn’t and one day it wouldn’t start so he hauled it next to Goldie swearing he’d fix it one day.”

“So it’s just sitting there rotting ?”

“Well no actually, about the time Caleb sold Harley I was sick of looking at it so I got rid of it.”

“You sold it.”

“Well, in the interest of honesty, not exactly.”

“What does that mean, exactly ?”

“I attached the promise ring to the ignition key and had it crushed.”

“You had it crushed ?”

“I needed closure Ty, it was invigorating, a grand release of emotions.”

Ty stared at her for a few seconds in shock and then Amy started laughing and then holding her stomach bent over and laughing. “I’m sorry Ty.”

“It’s Ok” he said laughing along with her.

“Oh here, give me your hand.” She said reaching out, she loves it when I laugh “come on silly give me your hand” she prodded seeing the look on his face.

Finally she grabbed his hand and hauled it over, “come here I don’t bite,” gently she turned his palm and lay it over the right side of her belly holding her hand over his. A few seconds later she smiled, “there, feel that ?”

When she stretched out her leg rather than kicking Ty identified a second feeling and realizing it was really no different that any animal understood “that’s a stretch.”

“That’s it” she said gently releasing the pressure. “I think we’ll call her Marion, it’s time. Marion Fleming Cutty.”

“That’s really great, so Lyndy.”

“Lyndy Sarah, Mitch’s grandmother. Jackson Timothy and Marion no middle yet.”

“And Luke was it ?”

“Luke Kashani. I guess we’ll need something for a toast, is there a place to get some wine close by ?

“I have beer for dinner and a couple bottles of champagne I can donate to the cause. You drink ?”

“Oh no, I‘ve had a couple sips of champagne as toasts, wedding night and the like, but not, no, I don’t. Especially pregnant.”

“It was just a question Amy.”

She smiled and nodded, “you wouldn’t by any chance have any ice in there for the water ?”

“There’s an ice machine in the barn for ice packs and stuff.”

“You get the champagne, I’ll do the ice.” She said pushing herself up with a grunt.

He smiled watching her move, almost awkwardly, before turning to the house while she walked slowly into the barn.

She wasn’t at the table when he returned and neither were the pitchers so he walked over to the barn where he found the pitchers full of ice on a small table by the barn door and then heard her on the other side by the paddock. Following her voice he turned around the barn and found her engrossed in conversation with the three rescues she had never met. He stood there watching her and the horses who seemed very anxious to be close. The soft sing song pater of her voice a sweet memory for him, the miracle girl.

She turned and smiled “Oh hey, I saw them and figured I’d say hi. We should probably get them stalled and fed.”

“As soon as the guys get back we’ll get it done, you’re wearing a dress, come on.”

They returned to the table after Ty filled the cooler he carried out with ice as well, as a truck Amy did not know pulled up and an early 40’s woman stepped out and over. She had a welcoming smile and a pretty face.

Amy looked up and smiled, “you must be Kelsey, it’s good to meet you, I’m Amy Fleming, Mitch’s wife” she finished extending her hand.

“Kelsey Burton, good to meet you Amy,”

“Sit, relax, we’re waiting for Mitch and Matt to get back.”

“How far along are you if you don’t mind my asking.”

“Little over 5 months I guess, you have kids ?”

“Two, one about to start high school and one about to go to college. Mitch said this is your third, we never got to three before the arguing got too bad, we married way too young.”

They all turned as Mitch’s truck came onto the property, the large Cummins Diesel was not quiet as it pulled up.

Amy smiled when he got out the cab and opened the back door along with Matt repeating the act on the passenger side.

Ty walked off to grab the cooler he had put by the barn and offered beers to all. Amy poured a few waters on her side of the table as Kelsey helped with the food and Mitch and Matt led the horses into the barn.

Once laid out Kelsey examined the table.

“This is a lot of food you guys.” Kelsey said.

Mitch who had come out the barn wiping his hands on a paper towel glanced over at Amy who grinned and him and made a face “don’t you dare.” She said blushing.

“Still eats her weight ?” Ty asked seeing the exchange only to have a dinner roll thrown his way which he caught.

“Hey, what happened to civilized dinner ?” Ty said laughing before sitting down.

Dinner was long and drawn out. Kelsey and Ty talked about the practice, Matt had sheriff stories and Amy and Mitch talked about adventures of their own and their kids. Amy was surprised at the chemistry between Kelsey and Ty and the looks they passed to each other like old friends but maybe something more. Amy was past the age thing, her dad and Casey and Jack and Lisa proved that.  She was not surprised at all that Ty was friends with Kelsey’s kids or that Ty caught every baseball and hockey game her sons played, in and out of school. At one point during a lull in the eating Ty lifted the champagne so that Amy could see.

“Good a time as any.” She said reaching for clean cups and passing them over.

“Champagne, what are we celebrating ?” Mitch asked.

“Us” Amy said as Ty passed cups around after the big pop.

“Why us ?”

“Because sweetheart congratulations are generally tendered when one is told he’s about to become a father, Clint called before, we have a 9 year old foster son arriving Monday morning, Luke Kashani.”

“Luke Kashani, 9 years old, wow.” Mitch repeated.

“Congratulations you two, that’s wonderful” Kelsey announced raising her glass and tapping it to Mitch’s and then Amy’s iced tea that Mitch remembered to get. Soon they were onto 9 year old boy stories and Amy reached out to grab the platter of ribs and dropped them. Not hard but everyone turned to her as she reached for her side.

“Easy girl, mom’s just grabbing for some ribs.” She whispered and then seeing Mitch’s look took his hand as she had Ty’s and then kissed his palm, something she had not done to Ty before placing it on the spot.

“She’s really going at it.” He said smiling and then leaned forward to grab the ribs and bring them closer for Amy who smiled and kissed him before pushing a few onto her plate.

“What do they put in this Cole slaw, it’s always awesome and I can’t figure it out.” Kelsey asked putting some on her plate.

“It’s horseradish” Amy said after swallowing.

“Is this a pregnancy thing ?” Matt asked “heightened palate ?”

Amy shrugged trying to swallow her next bite before answering, “It’s years of studying herbs and alternate remedies. Single ingredients are easy usually unless the tastes are ambiguous like licorice and anise. Or I guess it could be the pregnancy thing” she finished looking up with a smile.

Kelsey was the first to leave, she had to get home to her teenagers. Mitch and Amy said goodbye as they wouldn’t be seeing her in the morning. Matt was game to leave as well, he had an early shift in the morning but promised to stop before they left which was planned for 9:00 AM. Ty helped clear away and helped Mitch with stowing the table and chairs while Amy split the food as Ty insisted they take enough for lunch on the way home. He promised he’s see them in the morning so goodnights were easy.

Later in the evening in the afterglow of their lovemaking Mitch had gone to get some cold water for Amy who settled herself into her current comfortable position, on her left side, pillow between her legs and her arm perched on her belly. Mitch lovingly held the glass out and helped her take a drink without moving much or spilling and then settled as usual behind her, his arm sliding under hers as he leaned forward to kiss her shoulder.

“You had a chance to catch up with Ty ?”

“I did, it was nice.”

“He Ok ?”

“You were a bit right I think, the could have beens but we had a good talk, it went well.”

“Seemed to from my perspective. How about you ? Could have beens ?”

“Not on your life Mitchell Cutty, I couldn’t imagine spending my life with anyone but you.”

“Good to hear and back at you Amy Fleming.”

Amy leaned back as far as she could to catch his lips with hers for a moment before returning to her spot.

In the morning Amy woke to the closing of a car door and a truck start. Peeking out the window she saw Ty’s truck drive off and wondered if he was just getting out without a proper goodbye. When she finally showered and dressed and headed outside with a cup of tea and her breakfast of muffins and clementines she found a note tucked into the trailer door. It said that he was called away for a calving that wasn’t going well but expected to be back by nine when they were scheduled to leave.

Matt arrived after Mitch got his coffee going and decided to wait with them while it perked and join Mitch for a cup. He wasn’t surprised to find Ty gone for an emergency, that was his job as long as Kelsey had kids to get off to school and he was fine with it.

Before he left Matt got a call from Ty and explained that he was almost done but rather than make Mitch and Amy wait he’d meet them for their goodbye as a scenic pull off about 5 miles down the road south, the direction they were heading anyway.

Matt helped them pack up and load the horses, made sure they knew where to go and watched and waved as Amy pulled out first followed by Mitch and the trailer.

They parked and leaned against the overlook fence when Mitch received a text that Ty was on the way. He joined them 10 minutes later full of apologies that they discounted as completed unwarranted and totally understood.

Mitch went first and shook Ty’s hand before a brief bro hug and then walked off to close the trailer that they had opened for the horses benefit.

Amy walked over to Ty and gently ran a finger gently across his brow to move his hair away from his eyes.

“I’d forgotten just how green they were.” She said dropping her hand and smiling.

“Back home ?”

“I have to tell them Ty but we’ll leave contact up to you.”

“Thanks.”

Amy heard the door trailer handle locked into place and took a step forward to reach around Ty for a hug before stepping back.

“Find yourself a woman who loses herself in those eyes Ty and then hold on.”

“I’ll try ?”

“She can be a little older you know.”

“She’s my boss Amy.”

“And soon to be your partner, think about it, you’re a good catch with a big heart Ty Borden, it’s time to stop running. Oh, and I was technically your boss for a while there.” Then she leaned forward and kissed each of his cheeks gently. “Don’t be a stranger, you’d make Grandpa’s day with a call.”

“I will.”

“Goodbye Ty, it’s nice knowing you’re doing well.”

He walked her to her truck as Mitch got into the cab of his and Ty helped Amy in and watched her settle and buckle up before closing her door.

“Bye Amy, It was great seeing you and meeting Mitch.”

Amy smiled and nodded as Ty stepped back and she shifted into drive and drove out followed by Mitch who smiled and waved.

A few miles down the road Amy smiled when the next song was announced and she switched on the truck to truck radio to have Mitch join in when she started singing.

Together, they were the perfect couple.

“Almost heaven, West Virginia

Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River

Life is old there, older than the trees

Younger than the mountains, growing like a breeze

Country roads, take me home

To the place I belong

West Virginia, mountain mama

Take me home, country roads

All my memories gather 'round her

Miner's lady, stranger to blue water

Dark and dusty, painted on the sky

Misty taste of moonshine, teardrop in my eye ……..”

The End.

[authorbarbie]

Friendly Fire

Summary: Bucky ropes you into helping him decorate for Christmas but you’re both as chaotic as each other. 

“’Eh’ is not an acceptable answer,” Bucky said adamantly.

“Yes, it is!”

“Not when my question was ‘Is this going to explode?’”

“Technicalities,” you shrugged from your crouched position on the floor and continued to make some tweaks here and there. 

Around a half hour ago, Bucky had knocked on your door on behalf of himself and his roommate Steve and asked you to help decorate their apartment for Christmas. Apparently during their own attempts last year, the boys had bickered back and forth about which decorations should be placed where and after an hour of arguing, had ended up with nothing but a mangled tree and a few measly pieces of tinsel. This year, before a word could even be said (and before Steve came home), Bucky had immediately came to your apartment across the hall to ask for your assistance.

And so, there you were; one amateur and one savant (if you did say so yourself) staring down at a pile of tangled wires and other miscellaneous trinkets that were already beginning to frustrate you to no end. You knew that the lights were most likely unsalvageable, but you didn’t want to give up right away. You’d be damned if you let them beat you.

“This damn thing,” you mumbled to herself as a bead of sweat made it’s way down your forehead.

“Listen, maybe we should leave those,” Bucky leaned over and put a hand on your arm. “I think they’re beyond saving.”

“What the hell happened to these things?” you asked with a huff.

“Uh,” Bucky scratched at the back of his neck nervously. “Our old lights got… misplaced last year so my mother gave me her spare ones. They’re probably years old by now.”

“Misplaced? How did they get misplaced?”

Bucky muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

“Huh?”

“I threw them out the window!”

You blinked. “Are you kidding me?”

“Look, Steve is a real perfectionist and he was driving me nuts!” he claimed heatedly. “So yeah, maybe I dangled them out the window and threatened him to calm down. Maybe he refused to let up and I let them fall. Whatever. You have no proof.”

“You mean other than the fact that you just admitted it?” you paused your work for a moment to make your way to the aforementioned window and squinted into the distance. “Oh my god, are they still in the tree?”

There was a pause.

“I plead the fifth?” Bucky said weakly.

“Dork,” you stated, the beginnings of a smug smile beginning to show on your lips.

Your friend rolled his eyes playfully. “Yeah, so? I’ll get them later, I promise. Now get back to work, Mrs. Claus.”

You snorted in amusement. “What does that make you? Santa? Frosty the Snowman?”

“You’re hilarious,” replied Bucky, though his tone said otherwise.

“I’m the best,” you argued.

“You know what’s not the best?” Bucky asked with a raise of his brow. “That.”

Following his pointed finger, you rolled your eyes and knelt back down to the mess. The wires to the fairy lights he had provided you with were fraying, some of the metal strands already exposed. 

“How do we know these things even work?” you questioned, successfully untangling a knot.

“Only one way to find out, I guess,” Bucky said as he stepped forward to put the plug into the socket.

“Wait, wait, Bucky don’t—”

You jumped back as a spark burst out of the hunk of junk you had been attempting (also known as ‘failing’) to fix and stumbled into Bucky’s legs. “Holy shit!”

Instantly, Bucky bent down to grab you by the upper arms and pull you into a standing position, away from the flames.

“It’s only a little bit on fire,” you said from your position behind Bucky who had an arm out in front of you to stop you from getting any closer to the sparks. “Maybe we could still use them?” One look from Bucky stopped you from continuing.

“Stay back,” he said and stripped off his jacket.

“What are you doing?” you asked as you watched him inch closer to the fire hazard.

Bucky lifted one shoulder in a shrugging motion. “Gotta stop this from escalating somehow.” 

Without another word, he quickly threw his jacket on top of the wires to smother the smoke and the two of you watched anxiously as the tiny flames that had begun to show slowly petered out.

You were safe.

For about 10 seconds.

“Bucky?” called a voice that pulled both yourself and Bucky away from the mess you had accidentally created. “What’s going on here?”

“Uh, everything is fine,” Bucky said quickly, stepping in front of the pile in a lame attempt to hide it from his friend. “Just a slight technical problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“We may have almost set your home on fire?” you supplied with a slight wince. “I mean, we didn’t. Totally. I promise... But hypothetically, that’s a thing you should probably be aware of.”

A ghost of a smile showed on Bucky’s face.

“You call a fire a ‘slight problem’?” Steve asked.

Chuckling nervously, Bucky reached up to smooth his hair out of his face. “See, when you went out earlier, I figured I could get the place Christmas ready before you came back. You know, avoid the drama of last year? I asked her to help with everything and... Turns out our lights are kind of beyond repair.”

“I noticed,” Steve said with a nod towards the still smoking pile behind the man. He sighed in resignation before making his way to the wires. “You wanna take your jacket back?”

Nodding in realisation, Bucky grabbed his jacket from the wreckage. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too badly damaged. It had a burn mark under one arm, a slight hole in a place or two (although they may have already been there) but overall, it could’ve been worse.

As Steve got to work on removing what used to be Bucky’s mother’s lights, he continued to speak. “Maybe you two should get out of here. Get some new lights?”

“Yep,” Bucky said, more than happy to leave, just as you mumbled a “Sorry, Steve.”

With a gesture of his hand, Bucky led the way as you both quickly made their exit.

Steve watched the pair leave with the ghost of a smile and a shake of his head.

“Idiots.”

 ●  ●  ●

Once you had passed the threshold of the apartment building into the cool air, you both began to laugh.

“Did that really just happen?” Bucky asked with a grin. “Did we really just cause a fire and then get away with it?”

“Steve is a very nice man,” you replied honestly. “I think we definitely owe him one now.”

“I’d say you owed me one, too.”

“What?” you asked with a small frown. “Why?”

“Look at my poor jacket!” Bucky held up his leather jacket for you to see. “What did it ever do to you?”

“I could get Wanda to fix that for you,” you offered. “Though it was kind of your own fault.”

Bucky smirked. “Would you rather I left you there to catch fire?”

“I’m not saying that it wasn’t heroic, Barnes,” you joked. “I’m just saying that you willingly damaged that jacket.”

Bucky paused in thought before pulling the jacket back on anyway. “How about we go grab the old lights from up there? I’ll give you a boost.” Without waiting for an answer, Bucky continued walking towards the tree he’d just pointed at.

You continued to grin as you quickened your pace to catch up with him. “You’re just changing the subject because you know I’m right.”

He scoffed. “I am not.”

“Are too.”

[onewaywardwitch]

Just A Typo (5/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Hacker!Reader

Summary: It was a simple challenge between a very competitive group of friends. A challenge that ended very differently than anticipated.

Warnings: None I think

Word Count: 2213

A/N: I finally got a chance to write the next part! The feedback has been amazing so thank you to everyone who likes, reblogs, and comments. It really does make my day! Also I just watched Fantastic Beasts 2 and I have so many questions.

It didn’t take long for me to settle into my new routine. Alarm goes off, get up twenty minutes later because I pressed snooze again. Look for my keys which I somehow manage to misplace every morning. Then grab my morning hot chocolate and a bag of jellies on my way to the tower.

Each morning I made the effort to greet everyone I bumped into in the tower, and soon enough, it payed off. People that were previously cautious around me grew fonder. I was doing my best to not give anyone a reason to dislike me. It worked with most of the staff, but the Avengers themselves were a whole other story.

Tony and I grew close. He invited me upstairs often, sometimes to talk about work, others to just have a chat. It was nice to talk to someone other than Angie or Becca. I couldn’t help but notice that there was never any other Avenger around when I was there. When I mentioned it to Tony, he brushed it off, claiming they were on a mission or simply busy elsewhere.

From that moment on, I became determined to make them all less uncomfortable around me.

~~~~~

“Why do you have this need to make everyone like you?” Angie questioned me a few days after my conversation with Tony.

I scoffed at her and shook my head.

“Don’t be ridiculous, why would you think that?”

“Because you're literally making brownies for the Avengers that apparently hate you just to get them to like you,” she replied, eyeing me in my current situation.

My hair was thrown up haphazardly in a bun and the sleeves of my jumper were rolled up to my elbows. The flour that was supposed to be in the bowl was on the floor, but I was too busy trying to scoop out the eggshells that had fallen into the mixture to notice. I tried brushing some of the flour that was on my face away, only succeeding in getting egg on my face as well.

“No, I was just in a baking mood. I didn’t think there was any harm in making some for my co-workers too. It's not a big deal.”

“We both know those brownies are going straight to the top floor and nowhere else.”

I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly, hoping the Avengers would accept my peace offering. It was incredibly frustrating that most of them hadn’t forgiven me for the hacking incident and for some reason, I couldn’t accept that. That was why I was desperately trying to bake brownies while unbelievably close to tears.

“Please help me, Angie,” I whined. “I can’t make the food taste like actual food by myself!”

She chuckled at the state I had gotten myself into and began rolling up her sleeves to help out. I let out a sigh of relief, yet still unsure about whether or not this would work at all.

~~~~~

On one hand, I had hoped to just give the brownies to Tony so he could distribute them to everyone else. On the other, I knew that I needed to do this in person to have a chance at apologising properly.

The secretary gave me a quick glance before allowing me on the lift once they recognised me as a friend of Tony. Once in the lift, I attempted to fix my hair a bit. I had woken up late again and barely had time to get ready and grab the large box of brownies I finished making with Angie late last night.

The ding of the elevator caused me to nearly jump out of my skin. My nerves had increased tenfold and I resorted to mumbling reassurances to myself to try and calm down.

“Are you alright?”

The soft voice behind me made me whip around quickly. It was Sergeant Barnes, watching me curiously as I fumbled over my words. He definitely wasn’t the person I thought I'd be bumping into first. He seemed far more reserved than the others and was known to showing up to very few public events.

“I, ugh, yes I'm okay. I mean, I have these, ugh, brownies? I thought, well, I don’t really know what I was thinking,” I scratched the back of my neck, only now realising that perhaps this wasn’t the best idea. “I know you guys are still annoyed about what I did, and I thought this might help make up for it. But it was stupid of me. You guys are superheroes, you probably don’t even eat brownies! But I don’t know what superheroes eat. Oh God, I've screwed this up completely, haven’t I? Sergeant Barnes, I am so sorry− “

“Bucky,” he cut off my ramblings as soon as he processed why I was here. He found my predicament endearing. I gave him a confused look. “Call me Bucky.”

“Right, sorry, Bucky. I just shouldn’t talk anymore− here.” I practically shoved the box into his hands as he looked at me with an expression that I couldn’t quite identify.

I rolled on the balls of my feet slightly while he glanced at the contents, a small smile forming on his face. He actually has a nice smile, why haven’t I noticed before− no! Stop it, you moron.

“I should probably just go,” I said slowly. Bucky lifted his head up quickly.

“You don’t have to.” He cringed inwardly at how eagerly he replied. “Don’t you want to see the others?”

After a few moments of hesitation, I agreed to his suggestion. It couldn’t hurt to try apologising in person once again.

We found most of the Avengers gathered in the kitchen, chatting amongst themselves. Their conversation died down when they saw me. An awkward silence hung over us all before Bucky cleared his throat.

“Y/N brought us brownies.”

It was only when Bucky said it out loud that I realised how ridiculous it sounded. I was in the middle of working out the probability of my survival if I was to jump from the nearest window, when another voice spoke up.

“Yes! I'm starved,” Clint exclaimed, jumping up and heading towards the food.

I let out the breath I didn’t even realise I was holding in. Natasha was eyeing me suspiciously as I shot Clint a grateful smile.

“Oh man, these are great! Here, try some,” Clint said, thrusting the box towards the remaining Avengers who were now looking a lot less uneasy.

“They were supposed to have chocolate chips in them but I, er, ate them,” I said tentatively, but no one was listening other than Bucky. I noticed he was still nervous around me but tried to brush it off.

Wanda saw me standing beside him and invited me to take the seat across from her, which I accepted gratefully. Just as I sat down, Natasha quickly got up. Before she left the room, she whispered something to Bucky, who tensed immediately. I didn’t think too much of it as Wanda pulled me into a conversation between her and Sam.

~~~~~

Bucky, being the gentleman from the 40’s, offered to walk me back to my apartment. I was surprised at first, until I saw that I had spent nearly the whole day at the tower, and it was pretty dark outside. Not too keen on walking back alone, I gladly took him up on his offer.

We walked in silence for a bit, the winter wind not as strong as it normally would be. I took a moment to observe the man beside me as discreetly as possible. His dark hair was pushed back behind his ears, and every so often a few strands would fall into his face until he pushed them back again. He had kind blue eyes, much softer than I previously thought. I heard his story before, of course. But it was difficult to be intimidated by him after seeing how gentle and soft-spoken he really was, and I couldn’t help but comment on it.

“Hagrid!” I blurted out, my face turning a bright shade of red. Bucky turned his head in my direction slightly and raised his eyebrows. At least we weren’t walking in silence now.

“Sorry?”

“Hagrid… that’s who you remind me of. From Harry Potter. Y’know, the whole ‘gentle giant’ kind of thing? You both look scary, but you're softies on the inside.”

It was Bucky’s turn to blush, his ears tinged red. I smiled to myself at his reaction while he stuttered a reply.

“Thanks? Is that a good thing?”

I stopped walking and narrowed my eyes at him in thought before breaking out in a grin. “Definitely a good thing,” I agreed.

He accepted my compliment and nodded his head, continuing on our path home. But I couldn’t help but notice the small smile that graced his face after that.

“Tony said you were working on something new to prevent another hacking incident,” Bucky said in attempt to keep our conversation going.

“Oh yeah! See, I figured that if someone else is going to try hack into the tower, they’re not going to make a stupid mistake like I did, right?” I glanced across to Bucky, who was focused on what I was saying. Not needing any reply, I continued on.

“I'm installing this new system that’ll basically send a virus to whoever is hacking you. So, while they’re hacking into our system, we’ll be doing the same to theirs without them even knowing. That way, we’ll be able to access everything they have and know where they are. And it’ll be impossible for them to get into our system at all now. They can try, but I've made it virtually unhackable. The only person who would be able to hack us now is, well, me,” I explained proudly.

Bucky nodded slowly, deep in thought. I could tell he was trying to process what I said, and I was about to explain once more before he spoke up.

“I don’t think ‘unhackable’ is a word.”

“Oh shush.”

~~~~~

Surprisingly, everyone was still in the kitchen when Bucky returned home. The box that previously held Y/N’s brownies was now completely empty, lacking even a crumb. Bucky was about to complain when Steve appeared at his side, a small brownie wrapped in some tissue in his hand.

“Here,” he said, handing his friend the food. “You're lucky to even be getting this much. Sam and Clint devoured the rest.”

Bucky was munching on the brownie happily when Wanda noticed his arrival. She nudged Sam, a grin forming on his face at once.

“Hey, Bucky, get your girl home safe?”

Tony looked up from his conversation with Natasha in interest. Bucky glared at Sam, who could barely contain his glee at having something to tease Bucky with.

“She’s not my girl. It can get dangerous here at night. I was just making sure she got home safe, that’s all.” Bucky tried to convince Sam with little success. He stared at the rest of the group. Wanda, who had immediately taken a liking to Y/N, was beaming at the soldier. Tony and Rhodey both appeared slightly confused at what was going on. Steve simply clapped Bucky on the shoulder, but Bucky’s gaze was fixated on Natasha, who had yet to say anything. She must have felt him watching her, as she sighed before speaking.

“Look, she doesn’t seem like a bad person, but I still don’t think we should be trusting her this soon. She spends half a day up here, and suddenly everyone approves of her? Are we forgetting the reason we met her? We don’t know her.”

“We know enough,” Tony replied, getting tired of Nat’s constant disapproval of the woman he had grown quite fond of. “Give her a chance, Nat. You might actually like her.”

She shook her head and caught Bucky’s eyes.

“Whatever you do, be careful.”

~~~~~

“Why does everyone think I like Y/N?” Bucky questioned Steve the following day while they were on their morning run. It had become a routine for the two. They enjoyed having the few hours to talk, and Bucky found it beneficial to have a constant every morning. His life had been a series of unpredictable complications. This gave him something steady to hold onto.

“You’re just acting different around her, Buck. A little more nervous. And you stutter around her too. You don’t stutter,” Steve laughed, his friend glaring at him.

“I don’t know, she’s different, but a normal kind of different. Not our kind of different. She’s gentle too. And nice, but for no reason. No one is ever just nice anymore. But she doesn’t take anyone’s bullshit either. She nearly lost it when Clint told her he still uses Internet Explorer.” Bucky chuckled at the memory of how frustrated Y/N got last night while trying to explain to Clint that Internet Explorer was completely rubbish. “But it doesn’t matter. She deserves someone who’d be good for her. She’s probably already got a boyfriend too.”

“You’re too hard on yourself, Buck,” Steve remarked. “She’d be lucky to go out with you. Plus,” he picked up his speed, shouting back to Bucky, “she definitely isn’t dating anyone right now.”

“Wait, how do you know that? Are you sure? STEVE, ARE YOU SURE?” Bucky yelled at Steve as he chased after him.

Taglist (open):

(if there’s a strike through your name it means I couldn’t tag you)

@amybarter15 @imperialoath @throw-some-music-my-way @mamaraptor @marbleowl @lydklein1 @wantingtobekorra @alysawrites @uhholyhazza @ladymelissastark @sarcasm-n-insomnia @foxylupines @myrabbitholetoneverland @amazingficsthatididnotwrite @markusstraya @padfootormoose @worldofchoices @just-some-stuff-in-life @colie87 @catsandbooksinafarawayplace

[spacemilkies]

if youre taking marvel requests. can i ask for something with bucky where his s/o feels like she's more of a burden than a help during his transition from solider back to bucky

It’s Bucky day, just bucks for days.

You call it sparring, but Bucky negotiates the term defensive guidance. To be blunt, his term was more accurate to the definitive session that you two took to on schedule every Tuesday and Thursday morning. You’d first come to him, inspired by the way he lead Natasha around the mat, blocking and delivering jabs with efficiency and skill. It hadn’t been the strength that intrigued you, or the showy moves that were well out of your caliber.

No, it had just boiled down to the informal connection that it built between them.

Even in his impasse between the Winter Soldier and James Barnes, Bucky was still attached to memories he held with those still living and some departed. It helped to piece together the man he was trying to become. But to you, albelit selfishly, it was just another puzzle piece slotted into his visage that held no parallel to you.

Bucky was more than content having you at his side, you being his doll, but you felt more like a pinup girl than a functioning wheel turning in his stages of progression. Everyday, he was improving and you felt lost outside of the circle of contribution.

So when you approached him one day, still sweaty from guarding against Black Widow, he was more than confused to see you shrugging on a pair of gloves. His stamina was the least of his concerns, frankly the edge was bitten off from his previous exertion, but the source of your approach was his real concern. But you beat him to the punch of the question ( quite literally), bulky gloves nudging him behind the facade of playfulness as you goaded him into a light conflict.

From there it transitioned into what you had now. The training was always done in the tower with FRIDAY supervising without impeding. But Bucky never slipped out of control, and eventually you forgot that the artificial intelligence was even there.

It took a few days before the brief flicker of confusion to fade and the insistence for instruction to bleed into each exercise. It took more than one session for you to learn to keep your feet planted on the ground and gloves positioned protectively in front of your face before he would even tackle the procedure of throwing a punch. Even then he’s strict, favoring commanding directives over soft assurance and counsel. In these moments, his eyes faded from blue to grey. A sight not familiar in your presence of the domestic causality you’d adopted around him. By the end of each hour, you were dripping with sweat.

“Your spreading your fingers too wide.”

“Thumb out not in.”

“What’s more important? Your face or your ribs?”

He reminded you how every part of your body could be a weapon but consequently, if improperly used, a vulnerability. And you followed along obediently, not even bothering with the illusion that you had a choice.

The plan was beginning to fester, swelling into frustration as the days drug on. He noticed it first in your shoulders. The way they never seemed to relax told him how much tension had built under the skin. Bucky was conflicted between maintaining his stance as your instructor and yearning to mold his hands into your body to work some of it out.

“Again!” His tone was firm, but you were gaining resistance.

“Why? I did it right this time?”

“Did it feel right? It hurt, therefore it’s not perfect,” he admonished.

“I’m not looking for perfection. I just want-”

Anger flared but it felt misplaced, unjust at the intended target. You didn’t want to get into an argument and you felt stupid to even edge the confrontation.

“Want what?” He flexed his metal arm, but ignored the flow of joints in favor of scouring your face for any indication he may have missed.

You look away from his gaze, focusing instead lower,  on the shadow of a beard. Voice muffled and words indecipherable, Bucky’s gaze narrowed through your sloppy echo of speech until he found it too unbecoming and rectified the situation.

He grasps your chin, holding your face steady as he assesses your expression. “What is the matter with you, doll?”

Frustration, need and above all else shame came to mind but you eased sensibility to the forefront to control it all. Bucky was a visage of unrestrained confusion, a look he adopted when he couldn’t foster the use of his past skills to alleviate a situation. In knowing that, you consciously pushed your own insecurity aside, accepting the responsibility of dealing with them in turn rather than toss them on to someone else.

“Everyone has been there for you.”

You were a box of tells to him, always highlighting your emotions with ever shift of muscle and quirk of lip. But knowing was only secondary to acting, and you knew he wouldn’t do so alone unless the situation deemed it necessary.

He start to speak but you shake your head, you plowed on. “Tony fixes your arm. Sam counsels your PTSD. Nat is there to keep you in shape. And Steve- Steve is just at the center of it all. And I’m … I just take of space. I want to do more. Be more for you.”

Recognition slowly filled his gaze, and his heart ached, resonating with the agony in your voice. He was quiet for a moment, but he eventually pulled you close to press a cheek into your hair. You’re both hot and sticky but you ignore the way perspiration mimics glue and fastens stray strands to jaw. “Baby, you’re all I need, just as you are.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. Part of him understood, or at least wanted to. There was so much that he wanted to convey, but the echo of Steve’s voice reminded him that less was more.

His words were genuine, even if they felt placading. The monster curled with in your fought his grip until metal fingers became a firm resistance at you jaw. “No, look at me.”

You didn’t realize that tears were festering until he began rubbing the leakage from your skin.  “You take up the space that keeps me from falling apart. You chase away the worst of me.  I need you there to catch me when I fall. Right me when I trip. Who else is going to call me out when I slip up?”

A green tongue burns under the weight of the name Steve, but a guilty conscious mutter out the answer that is more amicable to the conversation. But Bucky wants more, fingers curling at your sides in light tickles until you expand on it.

You chase the tailed end of a smile, letting the implication of the emotion spread through your body and lift the heavy afterglow of the situation. Rarely was there ever an ideal place or time to talk. In the tower, privacy was restricted to designated floors and missions spliced moments together unevenly. While a lot of things about this world were uncertain, what you had what him was becoming more concrete by the day. It made the entire consensus feel silly.

His eyes ripples back to the deep hue of blue, and it eased back the remains of your worries. “I wasn’t going to say nothing but your mouth is really getting out of hand.”

Bucky chokes back laughter, shoulders finally sagging in relief. His thumb- the metal one- presses lightly into your side, the pressure arching you into his body.

“Yeah, they I guess I’ll have to rely on you to do something about it,” he countered as he angled his mouth downward.

It wasn’t hard to feel the soft pressure of his mouth and want more. The swipe of his tongue inside was addicting, and you find yourself pressing in to find more. Chasing both favor and memory. There was a slight cling, something you saw unfit to deem embarrassing, and he squeezed you around the waist in assurance, maintaining this kiss until he saw it fit to let go.

“My ‘ma warned me about dames like you.”

“Yeah?” You reply back, not without a small smile.

“Yeah.” He twined his fingers with your and kissed at the bruises on your knuckles. This. This is what you’d come to appreciate. The flirting, teasing, and easy conversation. He then dropped a kiss on your fingertips, the satisfied pull on his smirk heating you from the core. “Said they’re all I’m good for. And to hold on to one when I got ‘em.”

[emergenciesstory]

Nat’s Sis- Part 2

Pairing: Sister!Nat x Jessabelle (OC), Tony x OC, Stucky

Word Count: 2,452

Chapter summary: Meeting Fury and getting to know more of the team, We find out just what Jesse is.

Notes: I’m a Harry Potter nerd and always loved the idea of magic in the real world. If superhero’s are here, maybe a little magic is available. Jesse’s powers are much like Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin, an metamorphagus, as well as a protective Animagus, which she tries to hide.

Masterlist    Nat’s Sis Masterlist

“You mean to tell me you kept this secret from me?” Fury was calm, but you could feel the anger behind his demeanor. After the quick debrief, he kicked everyone out but myself and Nat.

“Sir, I believed her to be dead. And when I found out she wasn’t, there was no reason to bring her into this. She has flown under the radar for years.”

“And now you bring her in here like it’s all fine and dandy? An individual whom has been hustling data from us, compromised many missions?!” His rage was apparent.

“I’d appreciate if you’d talk like I was actually sitting in front of you, Director, because I am. I did not ask to be brought here, I was caught. Not like you would even know what you have.” Irritation running in my veins, I stood, walking out of the room and making my way down the hall where the others disappeared. I heard footsteps behind me, but didn’t stop or slow down.

“Please, help me out here! Let them in.” Nat called out. Spinning on my heel I looked at my sister.

“Help you out? Natasha, I love you but are you kidding?! No one else wants me here. I’ll stay for the week, catch up, but then I’m gone. I won’t steal information, I am here to see my sister and then I’m out, deal?”

“Deal. Now, up to the commons, a proper introduction over movie night, hmm?” linking her arm in mine, the two of us walked towards an elevator.

____________________________________

    That evening, I found myself sitting on a couch between the armrest and Clint, feeling very out of place with all the superheros. My legs were draped across Clint’s lap as he tried to keep me calm, something he used to do a lot when I stayed with him. Everyone had been talking and drinking, but I silently observed the interactions. They seemed to act as a family, free from the cares of who they were and what their responsibilities to the public were. The super soldiers still eyed me suspiciously, but with Clint knowing me, they seemed less wary of my presence. Clint had his arm draped on the back of the couch, a casual laugh booming from his chest every so often, and his phone on his leg, subtly being read with texts to Laura.

How are they? Your kids? I signed when he looked at me.

They’re growing up, JB. They miss seeing you.

I doubt that. They barely remember me. I turned away from him, not wanting to talk anymore, and felt him shuffle beside me before placing his phone in my hand. I looked up to see a soft smile on his face.

Read it. Looking back down it was a chain of messages between him and Laura.

C: You’ll never believe who showed up today.

L: Your bird friends back? :) ;)

C: More like a certain girl who got yellow paint on our ceiling.

L: Jessabelle? What’s she doing there? Last She told me she was heading to Europe.

C: Nat found her on a mission, brought her back. She looks, different?

L: It’s been years since she’s seen any of us. Nothing a little time out here can’t solve. She probably didn’t want to come back with them, hun.

C: Maybe I can get her to come out, for old times sake.

L: We’d love that. Fingers crossed.

Handing the phone back to him I nodded my head, agreeing to head out with him next weekend.

__________

    I had spent all day Monday in Nat’s apartment, catching up on news, not wanting to be in the way. Nat had brought me leftover pizza for dinner and we talked late into the night. I had fallen asleep, until a storm woke me. The clock on the wall read three in the morning, lightning flashed behind me out the window. Stretching, I stood from Nat’s futon, looking around the room to reorient myself. It was cozy, but lacked anything personal, just like my life. Seeing her tablet, I picked it up, tiptoeing from the room. I slid into the elevator before hearing a soft electronic voice.

    “Where are you heading, Jessabelle?”

    “The commons, Friday. Please?”

    “Of course.”

The elevator moved, bringing me down three floors and opening on the commons. I settled into one of the couches with my back to the kitchen area, looking out the large windows at the storm. Pulling a blanket around me to cover the scars left visible from the sleep shorts Nat gave me, I turned on the stark tablet. It buzzed in my hands, the screen not illuminating. Closing my eyes, I felt the tingle that comes with changing appearance and opened them again, to see the screen open, SHEILD written in the background.

    “Facial recognition. Too easy, Stark.”

    Tapping away, I let my appearance shift back to what I had found normal, long brown hair, freckles adorning my cheeks. Hacking into the system was easier from their own equipment, and soon I had found some new designs that Stark had been working on. Finding one with error, I pulled it onto the screen from movie night and took the design notes on the tablet. Getting lost in correcting the design, I never heard the footsteps on the staircase.

    “How did you get those?” The male voice was quite, slight anger covered with interest. Raising my head, my eyes met the man who made those plans himself, Tony Stark.

    “It wasn’t hard.” I mumbled turning back to my notes.

    “Not hard?! Those files are buried where even the system itself can’t locate them without me, set to self destruct if anyone comes searching for them.” His voice was rising, but still curious.

    Rolling my eyes, I sat the tablet on the couch beside me. “Well, the facial recognition is easy to bypass considering Nat and I are twins and as you’ve seen, I can change many aspects of myself. Then, finding the files was easy, they weren’t exactly hidden from the server just, misplaced? A ghost programing to find some back doors, which Friday is impressive by the way, haven’t found codes like that for a while, and once I found the center of the maze, here they were.”

    His eyes told his emotions, the wonder behind them as I spoke. Then squinting back, he addressed me. “Schooling?”

    “Self taught.”

    “Secrets learned?”

    “Too many, and not all are SHEILDS or yours.”

    “Weren’t your eyes green? Did you change those too?”

I glanced down, catching my reflection in the tablet. The violet opal shined back with traces of Amethyst dancing around.

“They turn purple when I code.” I half lied.

“And the swirls?”

“Are just fun.” The Amethyst color hadn’t been around since Nat shot me, the color of love and admiration, one for family and a soulmate. The violet was more common, but they appeared when I was doing or with something I loved. Clearing my throat, I picked up the tablet again and kept working on the sketch, still feeling Tony’s eyes on me. Freezing, I waited, feeling his arm reach over my shoulder, flicking my sketches up to the hologram screen, overlaying the original. I watched as my notes organized themselves to the blueprint, the red scrawls covering the black ones. Tony stepped around me, looking over the calculations.

“This, you fixed it. How did you fix it?”

“It’s nothing. Really.”

“Nothing?” He mused, grinning widely. “You mean to tell me the project I worked weeks on before cramming in the failures pile was only a couple squiggles from working, because that’s not true. This is something, something I couldn’t think of.”

    Standing, I moved to show him what I meant. “It really was just some squiggles. It’s your gun, from your suit, right?” Nodding his head, I continued. I gestured to the gun, it becoming larger in the room. No wonder, this would’ve been more fun earlier. Using both hands I seperated my edits from his design,Tony waiting patiently as I figured the system out. “So the base is what was setting you off. The chambers and barrels would have to be bent in order for this placement to work. Not to mention how uncomfortable it would be.” Tony was nodding his head as I pulled back my sketches. “So, you could bend the chambers and condense the size of the blast center,” I pointed out the math errors in size and combustibility of his thrusters, “And then with a little, break, in the chambers, they can fold into each other to make the compression easier.” Tony was silent looking over my design, calculating almost. “It can also be made into a stand alone weapon for anyone, Sergeant Barnes, Captain Rogers, Nat, agents. Maybe even condensed more for Clint’s arrows...” I trailed off, noticing Tony was now staring at me.

    “Nat said you were good, I didn’t think you’d almost outshine me.”

    “Almost? Didn’t you just say you worked on this for weeks?” I mused, turning my back to the hologram to look at him.

    “Yes, but you forgot one detail.” His smirk grew as he reached above me, eyes never leaving mine. He took a step forward, now close enough I could smell his sweet cologne. “You forgot to sign your name and save it.” He whispered in my ear. I whipped around so quickly I lost balance, Tony grabbing my waist at the last moment. I looked up to where he was writing, seeing my name in the same red as my notes, but his scrawl.

    “Thank you.” I squeaked, voice not working. Setting me on my feet, Tony still didn’t let go.

    “Credit goes where Credit is due. Besides, I didn’t want to see you in the infirmary for hitting the steel table behind you.”

    Wiggling out of his grasp, I was confused by what he said. “Steel? Why would that send me to the infirmary?”

    “I know what you are, Jessabelle.” He sat down on the couch, tapping the seat beside him. “I knew when you changed to look like Nat. I knew when I saw the opal in your eyes and realized they were all just crystal colors. And I knew looking at your scar. Doesn’t change anything. You’re powerful, and smart. We could use a girl like you.”

    Sitting I was at a loss for words. “Do the, do the others know?”

    “Not unless you told them. It’s not my place to tell, not that it should matter.”

    “Well, I’d appreciate if they didn’t know. I’m here for a week then I’m gone, and no I won’t sell your secrets. Not like it’s hard for anyone to find.” I looked back up at the designs, then to Tony.

    “As long as you’re here, would you help me with some other designs?” He was genuine, which made my heart soar. Rumor told, Tony was a pompous airhead, but maybe his preceding reputation wasn’t true. It’ll make Nat happy, and you don’t have to break into the tech everyday.

    “Why not? It’d be easier to get access than to keep breaking in all the time.” I smiled slightly at Tony, whos laugh illuminated the large space.  

    “In that case, go get changed, we can start immediately!” He stood, offering me his hand. Taking it, I felt warmth spread in my body, and averted my gaze to keep him from seeing the amethyst swirls returning. Why was this happening? Grabbing the tablet, I scurried back into the elevator and whized down the hall to Nat’s door. When it opened, I set the tablet on the table, closing my eyes and breathing hard.

    “I already saw. You don’t have those swirls for me anymore.” Nat’s voice rang from the bar, a mug of coffee in her hands. Her voice had startled me, and I jumped back while turning to her.

    “How did you-”

    “I’m your sister, and a highly trained assassin. Don’t belittle me, I know you.” She sat on the counter, handing me a mug. “I also know you can never forgive me for what I did to you, so I’m glad someone brings out the swirls.” She smiled softly.

    “You were following orders.”

    “My duty was to my sister first.”

    “Clean slate, remember? I’m trying to get past it. Besides, good thing about being able to change my appearance,” I focused my energy fluttering my eyes quickly before pulling the shorts leg up higher. “It’s not always a scar.” The jagged white scar threaded around the new black lines depicting flowers, vines, and leaves. Nat looked at me, the sadness in her eyes, but hiding it.

“What’s your plans for today?” she asked quietly.

“I’m actually going to work in the lab with Tony.” I mumbled, casting my eyes down.

“I see. Is that why my account has been deactivated?”

“Yeah, I kind of broke into a system Friday didn’t even know about and fixed one of his designs, but it locked us out after I grabbed a few. Sorry, I’ll see if he can let you back in.” My cheeks turned red thinking back to our interaction, the warmth that flooded my body when he touched me.

“Well, I guess you’d want to change. Your clothes are still dirty, but you’re welcome to anything I have, except the battle suit, obviously.”

“Thank you.” She nodded her head as I turned towards the closet, before becoming engrossed in her book. I wandered into the walk in closet, seeing clothes everywhere, mostly black. Some things never change. Finding a pair of black SHIELD athletic capris, I grabbed a black sweater that settled off the shoulder. Stepping out of the closet, I crossed my arms around my waist and looked at Nat, eyebrows quirked in question when I realized what I had grabbed.

“My old sweater. You look good. Really.”

“Okay. Sorry, I know this is your favorite sweater. I can change?” I gestured back to the closet.

“No, it looks better on you than it ever did on me. You imprinted, didn’t you?” She was quieter in her last question, and I looked down a the ground before nodding.

“He knew what I am, Nat. He knew I was metamorphmagus and he didn’t run or fight. He actually saved me. It’s weird, I only just talked to him for the first time, I don’t want to scare him away especially with the other thing.”

“Oh, Jesse. I’m happy for you. Tony is really sweet.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I turned to the mirror and twisted my hair up. “I’m not going to see him again after this week.”

“Keep an open mind. You deserve happiness too.”

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Six Limbs: Part 1

Pairings: Bucky x Reader-- Ex-Military AU

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, war injuries, implied smut.

Word Count: 5,858

Part 1 of 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your left foot bounced a mile a minute as you listened to the woman on the right side of the room a few rows behind you, ramble on about some trash bag in the middle of the road she almost caused an accident over. You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from sighing out loud at the monotony of the meeting you were some what forced to attend every week. It wasn’t that you couldn’t relate- you absolutely could. You had almost gotten arrested in a Starbucks once for assuming a dropped coffee mug was an exploded IED. You just didn’t feel the need to talk about your problems with a bunch of strangers no matter if they were your brothers and sisters in arms or not. You only came because Sam made you.

Out of annoyance, you rolled your head back on your shoulders, letting your bright blue hair fall down your back and looked up at the popcorn ceiling. It was a gross, off-white color and there was a giant crack that ran the width of the room above your head. You huffed a silent, mental laugh at how well the veterans building was maintained when a balled up piece of paper hit your chest. You rolled your head to your right shoulder and glared at your best friend, Sam Wilson, where he was standing at the podium, calling your name.

“You gunna share today?” He asked with his eyebrow raised. With a roll of your eyes, you flipped him off and sat up straight.

“(Y/N) and once again, I’m fine.” You looked over at Sam and forced a sarcastic smile at him. He shook his head and glanced at his watch.

“Alright then. That’s it for today. I’ll see you guys next week.” You finally let out a sigh and grabbed your backpack off the chair next to you. You pulled yourself out of the black, plastic chair and fixed the leg of your jeans around the metal on your right leg; a leg that had been blown off in Iraq thanks to a missed IED six years prior. You were at least grateful that you were far enough away that you weren’t killed like most of your patrol unit and the only damage done was the chunks of metal shrapnel ripping through your leg to the point that the doctors needed to amputate just above the knee to save your life.

“(Y/N).” You smirked and looked over at Sam’s sigh of your name as he walked up to you. “Why do you gotta be difficult?” You shrugged as you pulled off your jacket, revealing the tattoos that decorated nearly every inch of your body.

“Because this shit is bullshit, Sam.” You said as you shoved the black, biker style jacket into your bag so you didn’t sweat to death in the summer heat once you left the ice cold building. “I don’t need to verbally vomit my problems on these people. That’s what my journals and our daily coffee dates are for.” He shook his head and glanced over your shoulder at someone.

“Alright, well I have a task for you that you’re not allowed to say no too.” He said as he gestured to someone behind you. You glanced back and quickly turned to salute Captain Steven Rogers; a well known name in the military community in Brooklyn. “Steve, meet Sergeant (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Steve smiled at you and reached out to shake your hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, (Y/N).” He said as he shook your hand firmly.

“Pleasure is all mine, sir.” He smirked at you and shook his head.

“No need for the formalities. Just friends talking.” You nodded as you pushed at the strap to your muscle shirt, subconsciously. He glanced at Sam before looking back at you with a smile. “I have a buddy of mine; known him all my life. He just got out of the hospital after doing two tours in Iraq. From what I’ve been told, you sound like the perfect person to help him assimilate back into society.” Your eyebrows shot to your hair line as you closed your eyes in a long blink.

“Oh, do I now.” You said as you looked over at Sam. He had a smug, knowing smirk on his face, knowing that no matter how hard you tried to act tough, you would never not help out a soldier in need. “Damn you, Wilson.” You muttered as you turned back at Steve. “Alright, who is it?” Steve smirked as he glanced over at Sam and you immediately knew the two of them had been purposely planning this. Steve turned slightly and called out for someone named ‘Bucky’ and you took the moment to whack your friends arm.

“Sergeant (Y/L/N), I’d like to introduce you to Sergeant James Barnes. Bucky, this is (Y/N).” You looked over at the tall, muscular form that headed over to you and you couldn’t help but take a partial step back at how intimidating he was. He looked about as stand-off-ish as you as he gave you a curt nod, which sent his longish brown hair flying out from behind his ears. As he reached up with his right hand to brush it back, you finally noticed that he was missing his left arm and everything began to make sense.

“Sergeant Barnes.” You said with a nod as you waited a half second before offering your hand for a hand shake.

“Just Bucky.” He said as he shook your hand. His deep voice sent shivers down your spine as his blue eyes sized you up. Sam reached out and pushed your shoulder; silently telling you to be nice.

“(Y/N). I’m going to get coffee. You coming?” You cocked your eyebrow at him expectantly as Steve tapped Bucky’s arm, subtly with his elbow. Bucky scowled at his friend and sighed.

“Fine.” You nodded at him and glanced at Sam with an obvious ‘you owe me’ look as you threw the strap of your backpack over your shoulder. With a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure Bucky was following you, you headed out the door to your car.

——

“You want me to just pull that shit in a bun for you?” You asked as Bucky pushed his hair out of his face for the dozenth time since the two of you say down at a table outside a small coffee shop down the road from the Veterans building. It was the first thing you had said to him since you placed your orders with the waitress twenty minutes ago. Bucky glared at you and pushed his hair behind his ears again.

“Don’t need your help.” He grouched. You held your hands up in defeat and shrugged.

“No skin off my back, man. I’m not the one that has hair in my face and is too stubborn to ask for help.” He glared at you as he brushed his hair back again.

“Hell would you know about needing help? You have two arms.” Your brows cocked the slightest bit and you nodded at him with pursed lips.

“You should really know what the fuck you’re talking about before you go assuming shit, dude.” You bent down and pulled up the leg of your jeans to show off your titanium leg. His eyes flew open and the color in his face drained as you dropped your jeans and looked at him. “‘Cause I promise you, having to ask someone for help every time your outside when it starts to rain or screaming for help from any neighbor that can hear you when you forget to lock the brakes of your wheelchair at three in the morning causing it to fly away from you into another room and you to fall on the ground is a lot more humiliating than asking for help with your damn hair.” You gestured to his coffee as you grabbed your backpack off the ground. “Finish your coffee. I wanna go home.” Without giving him another glance to hide the tears welling in your eyes, you headed away from the patio. You grabbed your cigarettes from your pocket and lit one as Bucky ran up behind you.

“Shit, doll. I am so sorry.” You looked up at him, letting him see the tears that fell. You shrugged as you pulled down your tough mask once more.

“I don’t want your fucking pity. I really don’t. But so you know, if I could go back I would personally much prefer to lose an arm than my leg. With the technology Stark is putting out these days for vets, I’d at least have a chance to live a normal-ish life with a prosthetic arm. Can’t do much with a Goddamn leg other than find a way to keep you balanced when you walk.” You turned away and stuck your cigarette between your lips as you started walking back to the vet center. You angrily swiped at your tears and cursed Sam in your head.

“I don’t pity you.” Bucky said as he fell into step beside you. “Just… misplaced anger, I guess.”  You glanced up at him and shrugged.

“Well thanks for that.”

——

“Dude, I’m not helping him.” You told Sam over the phone as you wheeled yourself around your apartment two days later. “End of story.”

“You’re gunna help him because I asked you too.” You shook your head as you pulled your fridge open to find something easy to make for breakfast.

“You can’t make me.” You heard him chuckle as someone knocked on your door.

“Wanna bet?” You rolled your eyes as you shut the fridge and wheeled yourself around it. It wasn’t typical for you to be in your chair at home but somedays, the pain in what was left of your leg was just too much to handle to walk on it.

“Yea, I wanna fucking bet! Bet that I’m gunna shove my foot up your ass if you…” Your words fell off as you looked up at Bucky’s face standing in your doorway. “Samual, I will fucking kill you for this.” You said as you reached up and hung up your phone via your bluetooth. You ripped it out of your ear, sat back, and crossed your arms over your chest. “What?” Bucky nervously reached into his pocket and pulled out a single black hair-tie.

“Think I could get you to help pull my hair back before I take you out for breakfast to make up for being an ass?” You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose in aggravation.

“Just get in here.” You groaned as you wheeled yourself backwards into your house. “I can’t walk today but I got shit here.” You missed his nod as you headed back toward your kitchen. “So how’d you find me? Sam?” You pulled open your fridge again and glanced up at him.

“Steve called Sam for me, yea.” You nodded as you grabbed a carton of eggs and a package of sausage patties from the fridge.

“Hope you don’t mind simple because that’s what you’re gettin.” You looked up just in time to see a smile pull at the corners of his lips.

“I can do simple.” You gestured for the hair-tie and pointed to the floor beside your chair.

“So how much did it kill you to ask for help?” You asked as you pulled Bucky’s hair back into a bun at the nape of his neck. He huffed a laugh and shook his head slightly.

“Stood outside your door for a good ten minutes.” You nodded at him as he stood up and gestured toward the food on the counter. “I’d ask if you needed help but not only do I know you don’t need it, but I haven’t figured out the whole ‘live with one arm’ thing. Steve’s been trying to help but…”

“Hard to go from being independent to depending on other people.” He nodded and sat down at the bar on your kitchen island as he watched you pull yourself out of your chair with a bar that ran along the length of your kitchen below the cabinets.

“Can I ask how long?” You missed his gesture toward your stump, that was currently hidden in your sweatpants but you knew what he was talking about.

“Six years. One of the guys in my patrol was impatient and didn’t let my dog, Shadow, clear the area completely. Stepped right on an IED. I was the only one that made it out alive… well, minus a leg. My dog sacrificed his life for mine.” You held on to the bar and hopped over to where your plates were, opting for plastic instead of glass as you shook your head to get rid of the memories of that day. You turned, leaned and reached to set them on the island when Bucky took them from your hand.

“See, this I can help with.” You smirked, grateful that he didn’t ask about Shadow and pointed to the drawer by your hip.

“Silverware.” He nodded as you hopped back in front of the stove to scramble the eggs and flip the sausage. You stayed quiet for a moment before glancing over at him. “So what about you?” He glanced at his arm, which he had hidden in his Henley.

“Suicide bomber that I wasn’t far enough away from.” You nodded as you held out the spatula toward him.

“Grab a plate first.” He nodded slowly and grabbed one of the plates off the counter. He put it down beside the stove and took the spatula from you. “Now, try to use just your wrist. Little movements for the sausage.” You reached in front of him and put your hand on top of his. “I think you’re just psyching yourself out.” You let him do all the work and simply guided his hand. He blushed a bit as the pan slid across the stove and you moved it back into place.

“Try turning the pan and using your stomach to hold the handle in place. You may be without an arm but that doesn’t mean you can’t use what you do have.” You let go of his hand and moved the handle of the pan into his stomach. You gently pushed on his back so that his stomach held the pan into place. He struggled a bit before he was able to scoop two sausage patties and some eggs onto the plate. “See? Not so bad.”

“Not at all.” You nodded as you hopped back over to your chair and took a seat. He handed you the first plate and you set it on your lap as he grabbed the pan with his stomach again.

“Like I said. You maybe without but that doesn’t mean you can’t use what you have to make shit easier.” He nodded as he turned off the stove for you and followed you toward your living room. You gestured him to the couch as you put your plate on the coffee table. He didn’t say a word to you as he watched you maneuver yourself from your wheelchair to your couch while he  pulled the silverware out of his pocket and put yours down beside your plate.

“I’m sorry I judged you.” He said softly as he used the edge of his fork to cut up the sausage.

“Sorry I snapped at you when you judged me.” He glanced over at you and nodded as he continued to try to cut his sausage. You gestured to his plate as you chewed your bite of eggs. “Just so you know, while you’re figuring it out, if you want help from me, you’re gunna need to ask for it. It sucks, trust me, I know. But I don’t coddle.” He actually growled at you and glared over at you.

“I got it.” You nodded and pursed your lips as you went back to your own breakfast.

“Steve’s been living with you, hasn’t he?” You asked after a minute as he finally got the hang of cutting the sausage.

“Is it that obvious?” You smirked and nodded.

“He coddles you. Which is probably why he and Sam set this whole thing up.” Bucky sighed as he stabbed some eggs on his fork.

“Yea, probably.”

“Well, it’s time for you to learn how to do this by yourself. No more relying on other people.” You glanced over at him and smirked. “Well, except when it comes to your hair. You can rely on someone to help you with your hair.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m surprised you came.” You called out as you walked up to Bucky in McGolrick Park in Brooklyn. While you had been helping him for two months, this was the first time you brought him out in public instead of being at either of your houses or the VA. He turned toward you on the bench he was on and you saw his eyes widen as he got his first real look at your prosthetic leg in short jean shorts. You knew this exact leg was unlike anything anyone had ever seen before because where the flesh colored plastic was on your thigh, your upstairs neighbor, Pietro had created hand drawn, interchangeable fabric tattoo sleeves.

“Well you did tell Sam, who told Steve, who said I had no other choice but show up so you weren’t left alone.” You smiled as you dropped your backpack on the bench and unzipped it.

“That is what my ‘get independent’ mentor did for me. Had Sam drop my ass off at the park for a picnic.” You pulled out your blanket and laid it out on the grass. “Now get your butt down here.” He chuckled and got down on the blanket as you dropped your bag on the edge where you could get to it. As carefully as I could, you sat down and stuck your legs out in front of you.

“Now don’t freak out on me because it’s kinda weird the first time you see it but I don’t like the weird tan lines.” He glanced over at you with his brow furrowed and his eyes widened in shock as you pulled off your prosthetic leg and the sleeve that covered what was left of your scared limb. You set them both down on the grass beside you and leaned back on your hands. Almost immediately, a couple young kids stopped and stared as they ran past but you forced yourself to shrug it off.

“Doesn’t that bother you?” Bucky asked as he watched the kids run away while laughing. You shook your head, looked over at him, and repeated the same thing your mentor told you.

“Why should it? I fought for my country so those punk ass kids could be free. I could have lost a lot more than just my leg. I sacrificed for my country and I am proud and Marine strong. It just took me a while to accept that losing a limb made me stronger than I ever was.” You sat up and flexed your muscular arms with a laugh.

“Besides, how do you know they weren’t laughing at all my tattoos or my blue hair? And did you even look at my shirt?” You leaned back and showed him your tank-top that had a handicap wheel chair symbol and ‘worked too hard on leg day’ written below it. He burst out laughing as you leaned forward and grabbed your backpack. “Exactly. They could have been laughing at anything. I don’t have to go worst case scenario there. Besides, why should their opinion of my leg stop me from enjoying a beer with a friend?” You handed him a bottle of Budweiser from the little cooler you had and handed him a bottle opener right after it.

“I wish I had that outlook on life.” He said as he put the beer bottle between his feet and popped the top. He handed you the bottle with a smile as he took the next one from your hand.

“You can. It’s all about telling yourself that you’re gunna stay positive.” You bumped what was left of his left arm gently with your shoulder and smiled up at him. “You can’t change the past. You can just make the future the best that you can with what you have.” You reached up and tapped his temple with your fingertip. “It’s all up here. You had to tell yourself to run toward danger in the war, didn’t you? Now you gotta tell yourself that you’re Army proud and you have one arm. Hooah!” He laughed and tipped his beer toward you.

“Alright. You win on this one.” You nodded and tapped your beer against his.

“Have you not learned yet that I always win?”

——

Steve and Sam stood on the edge of the park, watching their two friends talk and laugh in the afternoon sun. You were bent over double, gasping for air as Bucky playfully ‘juggled’ grapes one handed by tossing a bunch of them in the air and catching what he could… in just a t-shirt, leaving the smallest bit of his scared left arm be seen. You laughed as he tossed up the few that he had caught. You quickly leaned forward to try to catch one of the grapes in mid air only to miss the one you were aiming for and have another hit your eye. Your friends huffed a laugh as Bucky pulled you into his chest and held the back of your head there for a moment; his laugh echoing across the grass covered field.

“This was a great idea.” Steve said as he gestured to you and Bucky as the latter pushed you back and gently kissed your closed eye. You quickly grabbed the grape that hit you off the blanket and hit him in the forehead with it. “It’s like the two of them were made to find each other at this point in their lives.”

“I told you she would open up to him and help him just like Clint did for her. Just never expected them to fall for each other.” Steve nodded in agreement as he watched Bucky shove you down so he could lay on top of you to tickle you. You screamed a laugh and kicked your legs as you tried unsuccessfully to push the much bigger, muscular man off you. He stayed a moment longer before getting off you with a laugh. He pulled you up to sit next to him with a smile as he said something funny to you. With another laugh, you nodded in agreement at whatever he had said.

“Wanna go get a beer? I’m sure she can give him a ride home.” Sam said as he gestured to the two of you. Steve nodded in agreement and turned to head to the subway.

~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky ran as fast as he could, trying to ‘dodge’ raindrops with you over his shoulder as you continuously hit the panic button for your car so he could find it. Both of you were laughing so hard, tears pooled in the corners of your eyes and mixed in with the raindrops Bucky wasn’t dodging. The horn of your jeep finally started blaring from the other side of the street and Bucky quickly checked the street and ran.

“Door, baby!” He yelled as he spun you around toward the driver side door. You ripped it open and he nearly threw you into your seat so he could get out of the rain, too. You shoved your soaking wet hair out of your face and pulled your backpack off your back to get to your prosthetic leg; the only one you owned that wasn’t waterproof. Bucky jumped into the passenger seat with a laugh.

“Did it get wet?” He asked as you unwrapped the picnic blanket from around the leg and sleeve.

“Just the shoe.” You said as you ran your hand over it to make sure everything was dry. You let out a sigh of relief and looked over at him. “I though you said you could dodge raindrops!” You chided with a laugh.

“Honey, I dodged as fast as I could!” You laughed as you wiped off your face with the blanket and passed it to Bucky. “Thanks.”

“So, you down for dinner and Netflix at my place? I’m dying for pizza.” He moaned and looked over at you.

“Pizza sounds so freaking good right now.” You smiled and shifted yourself in your seat before putting your prosthetic on the back seat so it was out of the way. Bucky looked back at it, confused, causing you to laugh.

“My car petals are for my left foot. I’ve got more control that way.” He let out a soft ‘ah’ as you started your jeep and pulled into traffic.

“Was it hard to relearn that?” You huffed a laugh and nodded as you pulled down your street, which was thankfully only two blocks away from the park.

“Took about a year. I kept switching the petals back around in my mind. I gotta say though.” You pulled up right in front of your building at the only handicap parking spot on the whole block, put your car in park and looked over at him. “Learning to walk again… Shit was the hardest thing in the world. My mind knew what I was supposed to be doing but my body wasn’t physically capable of doing that anymore. To this day I still have to remind myself that I do have limitations on what I’m capable of doing; shit that should come naturally.” His face dropped the slightest bit as he realized how lucky he was.

“Shit, doll.” You swiped your hand at him and turned off your car.

“No pity, remember. Stay positive. I walk real good now.” You shot him a wink and glanced up at your front door through the rain. With a smirk, you looked back over at Bucky and gestured to the door. “Wanna go get my leg for me?” He chuckled and shook his head.

“I’ll give you a lift.” You nodded at him as you tossed your backpack in the back seat. You didn’t realize just how strong Bucky was until he helped you get to your door. He set you down in front of the main door and held you tight to his chest as you unlocked the first door. After a few moments of figuring the logistics out, he wrapped his arm under yours and easily held you up. He patiently acted like a crutch as you hopped into your one bedroom, thankfully rent controlled apartment.

“Thanks for that.” You said as you pulled open your front closet and grabbed a pair of crutches. “So if you want to take a shower and warm up a bit, I’m pretty sure I have a pair of basketball shorts that should fit you… but a shirt isn’t gunna happen until I can get yours in the dryer. Or, we can take a bath while your stuff’s in the dryer and I’ll promise I won’t look. I’ll even give you my shorts to wear or a towel to cover…” You gestured to his body with your finger as a blush spread across your cheeks. “whatever and I’ll wear a bathing suit. I will say my bathtub is pretty awesome.” He blushed as well and reached up to rub the back of his neck as a smile spread across his face.

“I think I could do a bath.” He nodded his head subtly and licked his bottom lip. He glanced up at you and shrugged before quickly averting his eyes. “Don’t need shorts.” You smiled and nodded.

“Alright. So how about I go start the bath and you can get all the clothes into the dryer? We’ll order pizza after.” He nodded as he followed you through your living room and past your kitchen to where your bathroom and laundry closet were right outside your bedroom door. As you started to fill your Jacuzzi tub and lit a few candles on the counter, Bucky tossed his wet clothes into the dryer. You knew this was a big moment for him since the only other person that had seen his arm besides doctors was Steve. You both also knew that this was a bit step in your forming relationship.

“Clothes, doll.” Bucky said softly as he stood in the doorway of the bathroom in just his wet boxers. You handed him the few wet things from the edge of the tub and flipped off the light, sending the room into partial darkness. You didn’t see Bucky watching you as you went through the process of getting yourself into the bath using grab bars that had been placed strategically on the walls and tub. You sunk into the hot water with a content sigh and turned off the running water.

“You make that look easy.” Bucky said. You glanced over at him and noticed he was trying to cover his left arm despite the fact that the bathroom didn’t have much light in it at that moment thanks to the candles and the rain storm outside the window in your shower.

“Lots of practice. You getting in the tub or are ya just gunna stand there?” His eyes met yours as you scooted forward as gestured behind and in front of you. “You can pick your spot. I’m not picky.” After a moment of hesitation, he gestured to the spot in front of you. With a reassuring smile, you scooted back and looked down at the water to give him a little bit of privacy and make sure your legs were out of the way until he was settled.

“Oh… my God…” Bucky sighed as he settled into the water. “Why do I not take baths every day?” You looked back up at him as he moved your left leg over his. You giggled as you leaned back against the pillow behind you and shrugged.

“It’s easier for me to take a bath than a shower. Less chance of me falling on my ass or my stump.” He nodded as he ran his fingers up and down your calf. You could tell that he was so uncomfortable without his shirt on and your heart went out to him. As gently as you could, you moved your right leg over his and scooted forward in the bath toward him. His eyes found yours as you reached up and cupped his jaw in your hand, purposely using your arm to block his.

“Hey. You’re safe here. That doesn’t stop me from really liking you.” You gestured to his left arm with your head but kept your eyes on his gorgeous blue eyes. “It means so much to me that you’re trusting me and I do know how hard it is. But just so you know, I could care less that you’re missing an arm. Because you’ve made me smile more in the last two months than I have in the past six years. And at the end of the day, that’s what I see.” You smirked and pat his cheek with your fingers. “That and your cute butt.” His face softened into a smile as he ran his hand up your leg to your hip.

“Thank God I’m not the only one of us checking out the others butt.” You smirked as you put your hands on his shoulders.

“I do have a cute butt.” He nodded in agreement as he leaned forward to kiss you when someone knocked on your front door and the deadbolt opened.

“Printessa? You home?” You groaned and rested your forehead on Bucky’s.

“Not alone!” You called out to Pietro as you stretched over the edge of the tub to push the bathroom door closed. You heard him and his sister, Wanda laugh as Pietro came slightly closer to the bathroom door in the kitchen.

“We’re goin’ to the store tomorrow. You need to add anything to your list before I take it?”

“Just take it!” You groaned to yourself as Bucky used your upper body as a sort of shield. You wrapped your arm around his back and rested your chin on his shoulder.

“Alright… well just, um… call in the morning when it’s safe to drop off your groceries!” You rolled your eyes and growled.

“Out, Pietro!”

“Leave her alone, Pietro!” Wanda said as she opened your front door. “Sorry, (Y/N)!” You sighed heavily as your neighbors left and locked the door behind them. You pulled back and looked at Bucky, completely mortified.

“I am… so freaking sorry.”

“Who was that?” He asked as the two of you settled back in to your spots in your tub. You sighed and ran your fingers through your tangled, damp hair.

“My upstairs neighbors.” You adjusted your leg so it was a little more comfortable and shrugged. “When I first got injured, Wanda was my caregiver since I didn’t have any family that could help the way Steve did you. She was at my old house every morning and every night, helping me get used to living without my leg. She became my best friend.

But she’s about the same size as me so the first time I fell in the shower… which is why I take baths now, she couldn’t get me up. So she had to call her twin brother, Pietro. After the falling out of bed at three in the morning incident, they helped me find this apartment in their building and they’ve been helping me out ever since. Wanda goes to the grocery store for me because she loves the grocery store for who knows what reason and going up and down stairs over and over again with my groceries can be a pain in the ass. I try not to rely on them as much as possible but the help is always nice.” He nodded in understanding as he glanced up at you through his lashes with a smile.

“Can I kiss you now before we get interrupted again?” You smiled and nodded as he scooted toward you.

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” You teased as you settled yourself on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. He chuckled and shook his head.

“Not a word.” You brushed your nose against his with a smile.

“Didn’t think so.” His hand tightened on your hip as your lips gently captured his. You moaned happily as your hands slid up and tangled in his still rain dampened hair. He slid his tongue against yours as he pulled you as close as he possibly could. You pulled away after a moment, gasping for breath and rested your forehead against his.

“Bedroom?” He asked. You nodded your head as you forced yourself out of his grasp so he could get out of the bath.

“Bedroom.”

Part 2

[avengerofyourheart]

In the Arms of Justice Pt. 16 (Cop!Bucky Drabble Series)

Characters: reader x Detective Barnes, Natasha, Rumlow. 

Summary: Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

Warnings: Some anxiety, also blood, murder, weapon and death mentions (none of it graphic), violence against women, gritty police drama tv show kind of feel.

Word Count: 1054

Tags at the bottom 

A/N: I’M BACK, BABY. A thousand apologies that it took so long for me to find my groove and stop being afraid of this fic. heh. I finally tackled it and miraculously, I’m in love with it again! Detective Barnes is back and I’m so excited for what’s ahead. :D Part 17 will be posted Friday, May 19! 

<<<Part 15  Part 16   Part 17>>>  

In the Arms of Justice Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

_______________________________________________

Previously:

Entering her office once again, Natasha stepped forward.

“Y/N, this is Mr. Kopecky. His aunt and uncle immigrated from the Czech Republic and he would like to keep them here legally.”

The man was facing away from you, reading the degrees and certificates adorning the esteemed lawyer’s office wall.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Kope…”

As he turned your way, you lost all power of speech, ice freezing in your veins. 

___________________

You remained frozen in place, eyes transfixed on the man who held a knife at your throat two nights ago and now haunted your dreams. Although, if you had passed him on the street you might not have recognized him. Instead of the bleach-blond hair and a clean shaven face, he now wore a knitted cap over a bald head with a few days’ stubble dotting his chin. Horn-rimmed glasses were perched on his nose and he wore khaki trousers with a long-sleeved black sweater and dress shoes. If it weren’t for the cold eyes fixed on yours and the scar on his left cheek, you could have sworn it wasn’t the same man.

Light bruising was visible under his eyes, you noticed as he took a few steps forward. His nose might not have been broken by your head striking it, but you definitely left your mark. Seeing him approach from across the room, you finally thawed enough to stumble to Natasha’s side.

“H-how did he get in here?” you whispered to her, your eyes never leaving his face.

Natasha remained focus on the file before her and didn’t notice your change in demeanor. “I thought you two had met. He had your business card. He didn’t have an appointment, but was willing to wait in case we had an opening.”

Your stomach dropped. A business card. That’s the one thing you wouldn’t have missed from your wallet, the amount changing all the time. You offered your card almost daily, hoping to let people know they weren’t alone. Many had become clients as a result from your willingness to help. Unfortunately, that business card also led the killer straight to you.

“It’s alright, our meeting was some time ago. Besides, I looked a bit different back then,” he grinned at you. His tone was friendly but the underlying meaning and his predatory expression caused bile to rise in your throat.

Natasha lifted her eyes and his face smoothed to a friendly smile. “We’ll see what we can do for you, Mr. Kopecky. Now, how long have they been in the country? Have your aunt and uncle applied for visas in the past? Y/N, could you give him the…”

She trailed off upon seeing your expression. You tried to force your brain to shake off the panic that gripped you tight, but your eyes remained wide in shock.

“What is it, Y/n?” the redhead questioned you in concern.

“I…he was the…”

You struggled to find the words to explain all that had happened in the past few days and the danger you were both in. Natasha had no idea and as you gathered a succinct way to tell her, you caught a small motion in the right hand of the man before you. Rumlow silently withdrew something from his pocket, just enough for the glint of metal to catch your eye before he lowered it out of sight. He pressed a finger to his lips. Natasha saw none of it, still trying to shake some sense out of you.

“Are you okay? You’re white as a sheet, Y/N. Can I..”

“Ms. Romanoff,” he interrupted. “I know Y/N seeing me is a bit of a surprise. We parted on less than friendly terms. Could we have a moment alone to clear the air?”

“Is that alright with you, Y/N?” she asked you, placing a hand on your arm.

Somehow, you were able to stand up straight and take a deep breath at this change of events. Oddly enough, making sure Natasha was out of danger’s way made you feel a touch more calm. He didn’t want her. He only wanted you. If there was a way to keep her safe, you had to take it. You finally met her eyes and nodded.

“Okay. I’ll be outside if you need anything,” she responded and headed for the door.

Just before she could close it behind her, a thought came to your mind and you finally found your voice.

“Oh, Natasha…could you check my cell phone? I might have missed an important phone call. It’s on my desk.”

Her brow furrowed at the strange request, but you gave a nod of confirmation.

“Please.”

“Alright,” she replied as the door closed with a click.

A dry chuckle was heard from behind you. “You’re gonna pay for that, whatever you’re planning.”

Clearing your throat, you turned to face him. “You got what you wanted. Here I am.”

“Yes, here you are. They had you hidden away after our night together, but I knew how to draw you out,” the man drawled with a menacing grin as he walked toward the door.

Despite the fact that you were moving further from the exit, you felt the urge to put as much distance as possible between you. Keeping him in your sights, you managed to get behind the desk. You felt better with an obstacle in the way. He reached out to secure the lock and then turned toward you.

“H-how did you get past security?” you asked, trying to keep him talking.

He shrugged, pulling out his knife casually, as if he were checking his watch. “I got friends in low places. Never hurts to befriend the help,” he smirked while fingering the blade lovingly.

“The help…you mean the cleaning staff?” you questioned, putting the pieces together. If he was able to get in a back door without being seen, that explained everything. Especially getting in with a knife, bypassing the metal detectors at the front entrance. “So you would have access to our offices…did you misplace that file?”

Rumlow slowed his hand on the blade just long enough to grin at you.

“I’ve had a few days to check up on you, Ms. Y/N (Y/L/N).” You shuddered to hear your name tumble from his mouth. “God bless the internet. You’re quite the altruist…doing good deeds and helping people. That’s what you want to do, right? To help people?” he asked you, gesturing in your direction with the tip of the knife, causing you to flinch.

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Cause you’re gonna help me out. You’re gonna walk out of here with me. Willingly. Or I kill everyone in this whole damn place.”

Part 17>>>

______________________________________________

Oh snap! Pretty intense. Things are about to get even crazier! Please let me know your thoughts and theories! I love to hear from you!!! I hope I’ve been able to pick up where I left off pretty well. Part 17 will be posted Friday, May 19th. :) 

Permanent tag list is CLOSED, but I might be able to tag few more for this series ONLY. 

Permanent Tags:

@ek823 @you-didnt-see-that-cuming  @yellowtheremarvelfan  @sarcastic15overlord @mirkwood---princess  @stovehairington  @msshadowboxer  @reniescarlett  @wellfuckbuck  @coffeeismylife28  @lilasiannerd  @bunchofandoms   @sarahpanda65 @ria132love @canumoveyourseatup-no  @whatshernamemaria  @crazyliraz  @filthylolita  @tempestinatea-cup  @pixierox101   @jcb2k16 @jaderz-mega-yikes   @gatorgal94 @prettylatxna @abovethesmokestacks @missmotherhen  @snakesgoethe  @feelmyroarrrr  @buckysmetallicstump @dontstopwiththelyin @mytasterpeculiar  @writingruna @imaginingbucky @bovaria  @thisisthelilith @buckyywiththegoodhair @rogersxbarnesx @hellomissmabel  @bionic-buckyb @buckysberrie @marvel-lucy @marvelingatthewonder @you-and-bucky @sebseyesandbuckysthighs @hymnofthevalkyries @kinqshley @beccaanne814-blog @marvel-ash @sebbytrash @serzhantkris  @officialcaptain-marvel  @themcuhasruinedme @mizzzpink @vaisabu  @winterboobaer  @idontknow-canyou  @mylittlefandomfanfictions  @bemystucky  @hotmessofafangirl  @priettierthanyou  @avengermama @mrs--healy  @black-eyed-bucky  @supersoldier-wifey  @gold-liess  @thebabewiththepwr  @indominusregina  @lostinspace33  @lillian-paige  @brittanymcsharry  @dustycelt @tragicalchemist  @palaiasaurus64  @mycapt-ohcapt  @chrisevans-imagines @ryverpenrad  @timeladylaurel @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli @maybe-mikala  @bellenuit45  @mrshopkirk  @ilovebeingjoyful  @soulful-ofevans @finhabastos  @queen-merc @theawesomeclairfury  @4theluvofall  @seeyainanotherlifebrotha  @jaybird6232 @johnmurphys-sass  @anxuanpham  @anitavalija  @katbird787  @tori-medusa-belongs-to-bucky  @readingtoescape  @lbouvet  @cojootromuelle  @smginger1131 @maririn @justreadingfics @srgtjamesbarnes107

AoJ tags:

@yesiamdeliciouslycaffeinated  @learisa