#like just picture the look on Buck’s face he’d be so proud of captain dad for doing a Crime For Good

[coffeecakefanfics]

Mosaic | B.B x Fem!Reader

An: I can’t tell if I like this but have it anyway

Fluff? idfk

requests are open

words: 2,011

It started innocently enough.  When Bucky was brought to the compound Steve had taken the young girl under his wing, treated her as his kid.  Though in all fairness she was Stark's actual kid first, she never minded Steve stepping in as a second parent. She actually appreciated Steve and Bucky coming to visit her in her room or when theyd all sit in the living room and watch movies, catching the pair up on things they’d missed. 

Steve had to go on a mission, it left a few other Avengers, Wanda, Nat, Bruce, Bucky, and Peter (who popped in every now and then to ask for help from the older girl). 

“Hey Guys, can you do me a favor and look at this piece and tell me what you think?” She asked, carrying a large canvas into the Kitchen. Wanda stood at the stove, Pepper was sat at the counter typing on her laptop and Bucky was perched at the table, a cold look on his face. 

“Show,” Wanda grinned and turned from the stove.

“It’s for my senior portfolio, my theme is “Lost in Time”,” Y/N spun the canvas, setting it on the table.  It was a painting, a painting of Steve and Bucky from the forties, a painting of a picture that to Bucky’s knowledge had been lost. The breath left his lungs and tears sat at the edge of his eyes. 

“I Figured I’d paint my two favorite guys, you know, since you literally were lost in time and all,” she gulped the lump in her throat at everyones silence. 

“Do, do you have more?” Bucky asked barely above a whisper, his fingers willed him to reach out. Y/n slowly nodded and peeked down at the painting. It was the first thing he’d ever said to her, and her alone.  It made her heart skip and her stomach flutter. 

“It’s beautiful Y/n. I’m sure this is the one that’ll get you the scholarship,” Pepper smiled and stood, kissing the top of the girls head. 

“Thanks Pepper, Hey Wanda how long till dinner?”

“About 30 minutes dear,” Wanda smiled at the girl. 

“Okay, Bucky I can. . .Show you the others, if you’d like that,” Y/n spoke slowly, testing the waters.  Receiving a nod in response the girl hugged Wanda and kissed Pepper on the cheek before leading the man up to her room.  The walls were a soft white and were littered with paintings and posters and vinyl records.  Bucky watched as she set the painting on an easel.  

“This one is one of Steve, When he was doing the propaganda tour,” she smirked and pointed to the painting. 

“That one is of a little boy i’d found in an old photograph, he’s polish.  Oh this one, is actually inspired by Gone with the Wind umm, it’s one of my favorite books and movies that’s a period piece,” she motioned to a painting of a woman on a swing in one of the big puffy dresses. 

“It was mine too,” Bucky almost, almost smiled.

“I have a copy of both if you’d like to ever read or watch it,” she beamed at him.  It set something in him ablaze.

Here she was 25, sitting in her apartment on facetime with her little sister, working on her portfolio 

“Morgan I promise to come see you and mom this weekend, I just have work,” Y/n laughed at her sister.

“But I miss you now,” The little girl frowned. 

“I miss you too goofball,” her eyes welled up.

“Mommy says you’re going to be famous,” Morgan spoke pointedly into the camera. Y/n let out a chuckle at her sister. 

“Don’t jump baby, I still have a lot of work to do,” she smiled.  

“Mommy also said daddy would be proud of us,” her heart panged at that.  

“He would Morgs, you know, Daddy loved you very much,” Y/n felt tears slip from her eyes. 

“Come on Morgan, dinner, “ Pepper spoke, “Say bye to Sissy,” 

“Bye, Hurry home”

“I will” Morgan passed the phone to Pepper. 

“How are you doing Sweetie?” Pepper had a solemn smile on her face. 

“I’m. . . “ Y/n stopped. “I miss him, everyday,” the tears spilled over.

“I know baby, I miss him too. Our door is always open if you want to stay,” Pepper tried not to cry, for Morgan. 

“Thanks mom, Give Morgan a huge hug for me okay, I’ll see you this weekend,” Y/n choked. Pepper said her goodbyes and hung up the phone.  (E/c) eyes drifted to the larger than most canvas across the room,  the canvas covered her dining table and was adorned with a half painted portrait of her dad, Steve and Nat.  The memorial piece would be hung publicly at the new Stark Memorial building.  She tried to finish it, the unveiling was in two weeks, but nothing felt right.  It had been 6 months, 6 long months without her dad, without Nat, without Steve.  

A gentle knock drug her attention to the door.  She drug her feet as she crossed the room, opening the door as much as the chain would let her standing before her was Bucky and the New Captain America, Sam Wilson himself. She gasped and slammed the door shut, flinging it open and wrapping her arms tightly around Bucky.  The tears fell again. 

“Holy shit, how, how did you find me?” she asked as she pulled back and threw her arms around Sam. 

“Had to ask your stepmother,” Sam smirked when Y/n stepped back. 

“In, come in, sorry,” she stepped aside and let the men in.  The two smirked at the decor in the apartment. 

“You always did know how to make a place feel like home,” Sam joked and let his eyes drift over pictures of her with the Avengers. 

She turned her attention to Bucky who shifted in his shoes. “I missed you Buck,” she smiled at him. 

“Missed you too doll,” he bit his cheek. “Sorry I didn’t call I-” 

“Don’t” Bucky gave her a look. “Don’t blame yourself, you had a lot going on, so did I, but it’s okay you’re here now, so chill,” she smiled and nudged him, earning a light chuckle. 

“So what brings you handsome men to my little home?” she joked and pulled down two wine glasses 

“Well, we wanted to check on you, it’s been 6 months. Hear you’ve been busy?” Sam questioned, and thanked her when she handed him the wine. 

“Yeah um, I managed to get into an art exhibit, and I’m working on a piece for the Stark Memorial building,” she handed a bottle of beer to Bucky.  She’d never admit it, but she kept a six pack in the fridge for if he ever stopped by. 

“Stark Memorial?” Bucky asked. 

“Uh Yeah the memorial building, one of my artist friends is carving the statues out front of Steve, Nat and, Dad, I am in charge of the Painting for the entryway, the one that’ll hang above the door.  The memorial is going to display the suits and tech and stuff like that I don’t know the specifics,” She stammered on.  The three sat and talked for hours before Sam had to go, it was getting late and he didn’t want to miss his flight in the morning. 

“Bucky?” her voice was soft.

“Yeah Y/n?” he looked at her. Regret filled his belly as he took in her frame. 

“Do you mind staying a little longer, it’s been a while and I missed you,” her voice was shaking, nervous, scared of rejection.

“Of course,” he nodded and sat back down. 

“So therapy?” she spoke, her tone lighter.  Bucky let out a groan. 

“Do NOT get me started,” he rolled his eyes.  Y/n let out a laugh, a laugh that he missed.  

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her, in fact he would sit and watch her name light up his shitty phone.  He was afraid, afraid that he would get attached, that she would leave him too. That his heart would betray him yet again.  He was Afraid of losing her, of loosing the only other person he felt at home with until now. 

“I’m proud of you Buck,” she swirled her wine, he hadn’t noticed she’d brought the bottle to the table. 

“For?”

“Trusting Sam,” she peeked up at him. A soft pink dusted his cheeks. He took a sip of his beer, missing the feeling of being tipsy or drunk. 

“I wanted to call,” he blurted out.  His words took the girl aback. 

“I just, I couldn’t bring myself to, not after what happened,” he cleared his throat.

“Oh Buck,” she set her glass down and stood up. “Come here,” she held her hand to him.  He traced his eyes over her hand, up the expanse of her arm, over the curve of her shoulder, before allowing himself to submit to her.  Her hand was soft, warm, clammy.  She led him through her apartment and opened a door.  She pulled him through.   With a flick of the switch the room buzzed to life, her studio.  His eyes danced around the murals and paintings that littered the desks and shelves and walls.  His eyes were directed to a desk in the corner, a sheet was draped over a canvas.  Her fingers lifted the dust colored fabric to reveal a painting that knock the air out of Bucky’s lungs and made his eyes well up.  The same effect her first painting had on him now knocked him breathless once again.  It was the two of them, sat side by side in the quinjet, his first mission.  The two wore huge smiles across their faces.  Her hair was set back neatly and Bucky had his pinned back, courtesy of the girl next to him.  God only knows what had them all smiled, but that was the moment they realized they needed each other.  

The mosaics of paintings around the room started to make his spin, most were snippets of them. Have you ever taken that first sip of coffee? The way it slides down your throat and hits your belly so well it speaks to the soul.  The feeling Bucky felt when he looked back at Y/n again.  Her hair was messy from work, her lips stained from the wine, the way her clothes fell on her body had Bucky’s head spinning.  He felt almost dizzy? Is dizzy the word he felt.  He let himself go, entirely, giving in to the craving of her skin on his.  He enveloped her in a hug that was nothing short than the blanket of security she had longed for since her dad passed, since Steve left, Since Bucky hadn’t returned her calls.  The barrier between the two crumbled as he cradled the back of her neck gently in his hand, the cool metal pressing her back to be closer, willing himself to conjoin with her, to never leave her again.  Tears fell from his eyes this time. 

“I was scared,” he said. “Steve left me, he chose her, and I didn’t want to lose you too,”? He choked. 

“Buck?” He couldn’t respond, only nod. 

“Your painting was the one to get my scholarship,” she spoke, her voice was shaky, small. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he pulled back, letting his fingers brush over her cheek. “So proud” he pursed his lips. 

“I buy plums and beer just in case you come by, I reread Gone With the Wind and the Hobbit when I'm sad because it was your favorite. I sleep with my window cracked because hearing outside made you sleep better. I never wash my clothes on Wednesday because that was your day.  I am a mosaic of you and all of your pieces,” the way she looked at him shattered every doubt he had.  The way her lips felt against his shattered hers.  The two wrapped themselves in each other, relishing in the feeling of releasing pent up emotions.

[justjessame]

Starting Over Chapter 11

While being stopped cold in the middle of a very hot moment with Bucky sucked, hearing that a shield that meant more than I could ever truly understand was being handed to some no name soldier who had a weak chin and looked ridiculous in the uniform that his best friend had made famous made going on with what we’d been doing less urgent somehow.

Bucky was still holding me, but my nightshirt -bunched in his hands, was forgotten.  We listened as this man, Captain Jonathan F. Walker, beamed for the cameras at being named the new Captain America.  I’d watched the news the day before, when Sam Wilson had donated the shield to the museum, but this?  This was ridiculous.  

“You didn’t know?”  The announcement over, the daily anchors were back on the screen, going round and round with the news, on repeat I knew for the rest of the day.  I turned my head so we were face to face again, but Bucky was still staring at the screen like he was still processing the news.  That gave me my answer.  

Bucky and I got dressed, once we untangled from our spot on the floor, and after he finally managed to work through the idea that Sam hadn’t simply given up the shield, but that the shield was now in the hands of someone that Steve hadn’t picked.  He didn’t shut down, thankfully, and once we were dressed and downstairs he told me that he had to go see Sam.

He looked less than excited by the prospect.  He was groaning as I handed him a glass of juice, telling him that I didn’t just not drink beer, but I wasn’t a fan of coffee either.  “Sam,” he sighed.  “Steve gave him the shield and I was -” he shook his head, taking the glass from me with one hand and pulling me close with the other.  He pressed his face into my hair and inhaled.  “I have to go see him, Brooke.”  

I nodded, of course.  It made sense that he wanted to hash it out with the one other person who knew Steve, and the person who he felt screwed the pooch.  “You’ll call?”  I really wished that there was a tone to ask that question that wouldn’t make me sound so fucking needy and clingy.  

“I’ll call, I’ll text,” he promised, and I heard the smile in his voice.  “If I have to, I’ll even learn how to Tik and Tok.”  I giggled.  

“You’d TikTok for me?”  I pulled away and stared up at his face.  He was staring down at me like he’d rather eat a live eel, but he nodded.  “Wow, Bucky, I think you might like me.”  

“Just a little bit,” he agreed, leaning down for a kiss that we were both grinning like idiots for the duration.  

We drank our juice, and ate a little something, then Bucky pulled on his gloves and kissed me one last time before he went to find Sam Wilson.  I had another long day of job hunting to look forward to, I thought, as I watched him walk away.  

I managed to stay focused for half a day.  Half a day of scouring job websites and classified ads, and I was thinking that I was destined to end up bored senseless for the rest of my natural life.  Getting up to grab some leftovers, I heard the telltale chirp come from my cell phone and immediately thought “spam”.  So I went ahead and put together my lunch, while it was in the microwave, I picked up the phone.  

It was a picture of Bucky - I thought.  It was shaking, but I could make out his jaw and eye, sort of, and it came with the message of: “W/Sam Ugh.” 

I snorted and put down the phone, thinking that one day very soon, I was going to have to show Buck how to take a selfie that didn’t look like he was having a seizure while on a bucking bull while taking it.  My lunch was on the first ding, so I stirred it and put it back in for the second round.  

Picking up my phone again, I shook my head and tilted it.  Holding the phone at a distance that would get my full face, I took a pic and sent it back to Bucky with a “too bad, I’m making lunch” message.  

His next chirp came as I was pulling my lunch free from the microwave and carrying it to the table.  Once I was sitting down, I tapped the screen and laughed.  

“Not fair, UR cuter than Sam 2.”

I tried to get back to “work” after lunch, but honestly, there’s only so much job searching one human can do and not go batshit crazy.  While I was waiting for some company to see how wonderful I was from a bunch of letters randomly arranged into a ton of words - I started thinking about my life before the Snap.  

Before Thanos decided to come along and take away MY existence and so many others, I didn’t really have a set path.  I had a job, of course, I was working at an ad agency.  It wasn’t a huge one, but it was something to get my feet wet - or at least somewhere to figure out if I wanted to get my feet wet.  I was staying at home and commuting into the city because it was cost efficient and honestly, my world revolved around my neighborhood.  

The day it happened was my day off.  Mom and Dad weren’t retired, not because they couldn’t afford to, but because they both liked the social aspects of their jobs.  Mom as an RN, Dad as a supervisor at one of the many warehouses closeby.  They didn’t keep the same long hours that they once did, but they still worked, and they were working that day.  I was alone in the house, reading in my room.  Lame. So damn lame.

I know people think that at the first sign or sound of trouble, everyone in New York would rush to the windows or turn on the news, but honestly after the invasion led by Loki and the first round of aliens not all of us were in a hurry to see what the fuss was about.  By not all of us, I mean me.  I was in junior high when that happened.  When Bucky’s best friend, Captain America and his group of Avengers came to the rescue.  

I steadfastly DIDN’T go looking for the source of the commotion.  And in return, I had no idea what was coming - not that anyone really did.  

The month before I’d been the maid of honor in my best friend’s wedding.  I’d watched Connie walk down the aisle at the same church we’d both grown up in, taken first communion in, that we’d been so proud to be a part of - and I was so happy for her.  She married Joey Amoruso, a guy she’d dated since we were in diapers, I swear.  

Thinking about Connie, the one person who swore she hadn’t given up on me coming home someway, somehow, had me picking up my cell phone again.  Opening my contacts, she was still at the top.  Taking a deep breath, I hit send.

[fanciful-of-life]

Rubber Ducky You’re The One

Bobby stood at the kitchen counter cutting up the vegetables for the stew to simmer for the dinner he was making that night.The December Fall Season had vastly approached the Los Angeles area and it was a particularly chilly day.

It fit the mood of the firehouse.

Hen, although under mandatory investigation because of the parents of the young girl in the car wanted one, was not her usual sunny self but still able to take shifts. She may put up an armor of unbreakable badassery but on the inside she is just as fragile as any other caring human. It was an accident. Green light or not. Unfortunately not everyone understands the law of clearing the way for emergency vehicles. Either that or they’re just not listening out for them. She had her fire fam to lean on, most of all Athena. Karen was trying but she still had her own depression to work through. He wasn’t worried as much about her though. Although he cared for all his subordinates the same, he knew she would pull through because that was what Hen does because she learned a long time ago it’s what she had to do to keep surviving. He did have soft spots for certain ones though. Hen being Athena’s long time friend being one of the reasons she was one of his.

Chim, bless him, was doing his best to up his regular Chimness for her.

Buck, it was the the kid he was worried about the most though. He has been way too quiet the past month. Unnaturally quiet for Buck. He’s been there for Hen. Supporting her, talking her back behind the wheel of the ambulance, sitting in the passenger seat as he goes on non-emergency test drives with her.

It had finally come to a head when “The stubborn little shit” to quote Hen, said he’d be happy to drive as Buck got behind the wheel ahead of Chimney when the call siren blared. Hen’s reply of “Like hell are you driving my baby” ended with him riding in his usual spot of the front passenger seat with her instead of the truck had done it as she told Buck in Chimney’s words “You’re an annoying little ass.”

It was that moment Bobby realized what Buck actually brought to the team. Eddie had joked in the truck Bobby’s dad was showing, not even realizing he had a proud dopey smile on his face before schooling his features and going back into Captain mode but Eddie smiled at him saying he was proud of Buck, too.

Bobby had many realizations about Buck this past month.

When he turned around after they pronounced the girl dead, with Athena holding onto Hen as her wails made a symphony of grief in the wind, he saw his eyes. Haunted. Like he knew Hen would never be the same. He’d seen those eyes in the mirror before but never on the kid. That was the moment he learned more about Evan Buckley than he had in the two and a half years he’d been working with him. Even after the lawsuit and a morning in the ER before going to breakfast. It was a moment Buck let his guard down and Bobby learned what a good actor Buck truly is.

All three were surrounding the kitchen island as he chopped. Buck even helping peel and cut potatoes. Bobby learned another thing about Buck in that moment as he snuck a peak as he used the peeler at breakneck speed. Buck was letting his guard down and forgetting to act the part Bobby finally figured out he created.

The look on Maddie’s face at Thanksgiving when Buck jokingly called Athena Mama Nash made Bobby pause thinking maybe it wasn’t really the joke Buck was trying to make it out to be.

Evan Buckley knew his way around a kitchen. There was a story there. One Buck had not and maybe would never share like he had the bartender and Navy Seals.

He suddenly felt a sense of déjà vu. When two of the same three were surrounding the kitchen island but that time it was Buck they were concerned about. This time he knew it was Eddie that was on Buck’s mind.

Eddie wasn’t in just yet, his counseling session scheduled for this morning. After their talk Bobby offered him the day off but he refused. He needed to work. In that moment he sounded just like another certain one of his boys. Bobby started sautéing the meat in the crock pot and without hesitation Buck tossed in some flour.

Now Bobby was really worried. He never taught Buck this recipe. He was starting to wonder if the “cooking lessons” Buck wanted a few years ago was just really the need of some one on one time. He was also starting to wonder after that conversation in the ER about Buck feeling like his firefighter uniform was a costume that made him feel like he was making a difference was a cry much like Eddie’s. When was the kid going to finally figure it out? Bobby had told him he didn’t need a costume to be a hero, two people were alive because of him. The idea that Buck single handily helped keep so many people alive during a tsunami. Bobby couldn’t have been prouder. Which lead to the fiasco of a dinner after Buck made Fire Marshall, deciding light duty was better than no duty.

He knew he shouldn’t have lied to Buck. The department had cleared him to return but it was Bobby himself that suggested light duty. The picture of Buck lying under a fire truck giving him nightmares. After seeing him on the crutches in the cast the day of Eddie’s party he felt the guilt punch his gut, Buck had been a liability to his past which lead him to say to hell with it, life is is too short, and going home to Athena to get married right then. He also swore Buck wouldn’t be another liability because of him.

Bobby had been waiting for it for a month now. Knew it was coming. Chim had already mentioned it to him on many occasions. He had seen the looks Buck would throw towards Eddie. Even before Bobby found out about the street fighting and their talk.

“Something is going on with Eddie.”

And there it was, finally.

Buck was taking his frustrations out on the potatoes. Which impressed Bobby how perfectly cubed they were and maybe scared him a bit at the speed the knife was going. Trust. Bobby maybe worried but he had to show trust to rebuild trust lost. Plus, the kid knew how to hold a knife the right way. By the end of the blade where it connects to the handle with his thumb, fore and middle finger grasping it and not wrapping his hand around the handle itself for better control. He never showed him that. Or how to keep his fingers bent on the other hand to use as a guide.

Yeah, the kid did some time in a kitchen. Buck was still a wet behind the ears twenty something when he came to the 118 that let his emotions get the best of him, or so Bobby thought. That was what made Buck, Buck.

Bobby should have known better to think that the kid was just ego tripping and on a mission of self destruction. Known the moment Buck’s fist hit the table that he had made a grave error. The memory of Buck’s face when he helped him with his tie before his date with Abby. Like nobody had taken the time to ever show him they cared.

Maddie had lost touch with her brother, that much he knew. They barely spoken for long periods of time. Chimney let him in on that Buckley family acknowledgement. Maddie had been mum so far on any other family knowledge. Part of it had been Doug. Part of it had been Maddie leaving when Buck was still a young teenager. He could fit the pieces together. He knew enough people with shit dads. Like Eddie had told him. He didn’t feel like he was enough. How did he miss that with Buck when he himself had gone through the same thing?

That’s the thing with trauma though, isn’t it? Everyone’s is different but in the end the results are the same. It’s why Buck “the little shit” got Hen back behind the wheel. No matter how many talks she had with Athena, trauma causes scars. Buck didn’t want Hen anymore scar tissue than she already had.

Bobby wished he had thought about that the day he talked to Buck in the hospital and how much scar tissue had been added from his actions. Buck may have the dumb act down to a “T” but Bobby wonders sometimes if the kid isn’t smarter than he is.

Much like that conversation he had with the three about Buck that warm day, with him staring Eddie in the eyes that time. This time it was Buck looking at him like he had all the answers. When did he miss that? Too caught up feeling betrayed. When did he miss the fact Buck saw him as the dad he should have had?

“Eddie has us and he has people that care about him enough to help him understand they care.”

Buck looked down for a moment, then back up at Bobby. Nodding his head that he got the message. It was Buck’s turn to push this time.

A week later Eddie walked into the station. He’s had two sessions a week with the counselor and goes every other day to talk to the priest Bobby introduced him to the day they talked. Sitting his duffle down he sees a rubber duck, the kind a kid would play with in the bath tub on the top shelf of his locker by his helmet.

Letting out a chuckle and finding himself smiling, he picks it up sitting on the bench as he tosses it from hand to hand.

“Well, that’s something I haven’t seen in weeks.” His smile grows wider as the one person he knew would leave a gift like this voice comes from behind him.

Straddling the bench he half turns to look at Buck, already in uniform, hands in his pockets. Eyes surveying his face, what skin he could see, his knuckles, noticing he can turn but mostly Eddie’s movements. Eddie’s long sleeve henley and jeans covering his arms and legs.

“Christopher is going to Love this.” Eddie says standing back up he gently sits the rubber duck back by his helmet as he takes off his shirt. He can feel Buck’s eyes on his back, it clicked with Eddie then. Buck was looking for bruises.

“It’s not for Christopher.”

Eddie pauses with the shirt covering his face and a muffled “What?”

Taking the shirt off, Buck does a quick survey of Eddie’s chest as he does so before slipping on his button up.

“It’s for you.”

Eddie is used to changing in front of Buck and he knows something is up so he kicks off his sneakers and drops his jeans, showing no bruises on his legs.

Pulling on his pants Eddie buckles his belt asking “And just why do I need a rubber duck? I’m a little old for bath play time.” Okay, that sounded a bit more suggestive than he meant.

Buck smirks “Who could possibly be in a bad mood when holding a rubber ducky? Rubber Ducky, you’re the one.” Buck sings the last part. Fairly well to Eddie’s surprise.

Eddie is back in the bench tying his boots when he pauses. “Bobby?”

“No. Whatever you confided in him he didn’t share. I know signs of fighting when I see them. Plus, the bruised ribs at Halloween.”

“How did you know? I made sure not to change in front of anyone.”

“You pulled away.” Buck sat down next to Eddie. “I was hoping you would tell me yourself about the street fighting. I kept dropping hints with everyone. Saying I think something is going on with you, hoping it would get back to you and you would come talk to me. I didn’t realize how much I screwed that up, even if you forgave me. You used to tell me everything.”

“How could you tell I was street fighting?”

“I’m observant.”

“Evan….”

“I know what street fighting looks like.”

“Evan Buckley.”

“I wanted to be a pediatrician. I got into the pre-med program at Pen State. Full scholarship. It was my out from home. I love kids. Wanted to help them. While other kids partied I read every medical book and journal I could get my hands on. I had to hide them though.”

“Buck why are you sitting in a fire station instead of being in a residency program?”

“I used to be really skinny. Wasn’t very athletic. Played the guitar and piano. I was hoping I could give Chris lessons. He should’ve have limits. He told me on the pier the day of the tsunami he wanted to be a firefighter. I know you hated me during the lawsuit but I swore to myself even if he were only a Fire Marshall I would move heaven and hell to get him on the LAFD if he still wanted that. I’d support him in anything, you know that right?”

“I know and those music lessons, that sounds like a good idea.”

“Piano. He’d be good at the piano.”

“Okay and why do I have a feeling you already bought him one for Christmas?”

“Because much like I know you, you know me.”

A moment of silence.

“I was jealous. Of Shannon. One day she just appeared and you were back with her. Even though I was holding onto Abby when I knew I shouldn’t have been. That need to not let things go. To hold onto something. Hope for something, even if it isn’t there. I even started dating Ali to get my mind off you with Shannon. When she asked you for the divorce and you called me that night wanting to meet up I was a selfish prick that was glad she was going to be out of yours and Christopher’s lives. Real asshole move. Then I saw her on the ground at the accident sight and I knew what it would do to you. I’m not in a residency program because my dad found the Pen State letter. Laughed at me. Told me I was an idiot to think I could ever make it as a doctor. Being first in my class, skipping a grade. Still wasn’t good enough for him to stop calling me worthless every night at dinner.”

Eddie looked at Buck’s profile thinking about the lawsuit. How on Halloween he told Buck he made Cap out to be the bad guy when in Buck’s mind it was reliving a father figure telling him he was too worthless to be a firefighter. Those emotions of his getting in the way of rationality. Reality was Eddie ended up doing the same thing. Just in a different way.

He listened on as Buck started up again. “I had this one friend, Jefferey, Jeff. He got me. My dreams. My mind. Everything. Maddie had stopped checking in as much by then. I already knew what Doug was doing to her. I wanted to protect her from him but my skinny ass couldn’t even protect myself. One night Jeff came over to study and he kissed me. I liked it. Of course that was when my dad decided to come into my room. He threw Jeff out. Forbade me to see him. Took me to church to “pray the gay away” why I do go now, haven’t stepped in one in years. They sent me to a “special” summer camp. Convinced me I was screwed up. So, I started to sleep around with any girl that would put out. Until Abby. After my father burned the scholarship letter from Pen State I just said screw it. Got odd jobs when I was supposed to be in school clubs. I graduated. Packed my bags and the day I turned eighteen I took the cash I had saved up and left while my parents were at work. You see Eddie. I get it. That feeling of not being enough. I wasn’t enough for med school. My parents. Even Abby, I know she loved me but I wasn’t enough for her to stay. Enough for Ali to get why being a firefighter is important. I wasn’t enough for the Navy Seals. Top in my class except my emotions kept getting in the way. I know about street fighting because when you’re a bartender in South America you see shit. The guy in charge helped me learn to fight but he never put me in the ring. Told me I reminded him of his son. He died before I left. The only time I stepped foot in a church. One of the fighters decided he wanted to be in charge and killed him. So, yeah I was worried shitless about you. When I got back to the states, I was in Texas, helped out a fire company one day. The Captain of the squad told me I had a gift. Somehow I ended up here. Went to the academy. Came to the 118 acting like a dumb jock. Then all the sudden I wasn’t enough for the 118 anymore. I heard Bosko call you Diaz, saw her name taped over mine. Then I was at dinner with Cap and Athena but in my head my dad was sitting there and I was a teenager again. You don’t have to tell me you started fighting because you didn’t feel like enough, Eddie because I know you.”

It was then the call siren rang. Eddie stood up grabbing his gear as Buck did the same. When he turned around he saw a stoned face Bobby watching Buck’s back. Bobby shook his head no at Eddie, turning around to get in the truck.

It was the standard car accident. Bobby worried about Hen but Buck was already on it being an annoying little brat around Hen. He was distracting her. Both drivers made it out alive, although the one at fault was a complete ass. The other being transported to the hospital with Hen asking Chimney how he could want to be related to Buck on purpose one day. Bobby and Chim exchanging knowing looks.

When they got back to the station Bobby went to check the stew while Buck and Eddie put away their gear. Eddie was having that craving to fight. He would have to visit the church this afternoon. Then he saw it, sitting on the top shelf. The rubber duck and he could feel himself smiling. The craving disappearing. Rubber Ducky you’re the one suddenly jingling in his head.

Buck had told him he was enough.

“So, does that make you Burt and me Ernie?” Eddie asks him.

“Dork.”

“Come over for pizza. We can pick out a place to put that piano you bought my kid without asking.”

“Like you would have said no.” Buck huffed.

Bumping shoulders with the rubber duck in Eddie’s hand, he felt a warmth in his chest. Buck made him feel like enough. His counselor had called him out on it once but he changed the subject.

Now it was his turn to return the favor.

Buck was more than enough for him.

And when they started calling each other Burt and Ernie on occasion, nobody really questioned it.

[regalloki]

Memories

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: It’s the last night before Bucky’s departure to go fight in the war, so you visit the Stark Expo together along with Steve. It’s your last date, so you make some memories to look back to while he’s away.

Warnings: a whole ton of fluff 

Author’s note: Bucky’s backstory is based on the TFA tie-in comic and the Captain America and Bucky comics cause we see very little of his life pre-TFA (the mcu has done us wrong tbh). Also the reader can be read as gender neutral!

Word count: 2196

18 March, 1943

It was the day before he’d leave. He had just received his orders, being appointed sergeant of the 107th. Admittedly, you were a tad bit bitter. You weren’t worried for him, per se. Bucky was capable in hand-to-hand combat and an excellent marksman as well and could very well hold his own against men stronger than him. He was a natural, after all, having a knack for that sort of stuff. He was the three-time YMCA welterweight boxing champion, so, surely, he knew how to put up one hell of a good fight. During training in Wisconsin, he quickly and steadily rose up the hierarchy and the ranks to earn the title of sergeant. He would indubitably be a valuable asset to his regiment. However, watching him go was, for you, nothing short of tormenting.

You caught sight of Bucky heading towards you, charming as ever, sporting that beguiling cheeky grin that made your knees buckle. He looked positively stunning and you caught yourself unabashedly checking him out. His confident strut, cocky posture and calm nature added to the undaunted and self-assured allure, but the gleam in his entrancing baby blues, the slight tip of his head and the lovesick subconscious smile he didn’t manage to conceal after quickly catching a glimpse of you were a dead giveaway of his feigned composure.

Beneath that cool, tough and charming veneer, Bucky was an utter sweetheart. He wouldn’t be caught dead admitting it, but he was more silly and sentimental than he came across as. A huge sop, Bucky had a thing for being close to you. He liked falling asleep on you, listening to your heart beat or the low, soothing vibrations of your chest whenever you’d softly hum some made-up tune to lull him into a peaceful slumber. His hand had practically molded against your own. He was by all means a sucker for hand holding, but he’d rather not be seen. He had a reputation to withhold, after all. However, he managed to sneak his calloused hand in yours here and there, under a table or during those long cuddle sessions he liked after a particularly hard day when you were both alone at last. Bucky also had a weak spot for kisses. He tried his utmost to be stealthy and clandestine in public, but he oftentimes yielded to his desire and would slyly steal a few. If there’s one thing Bucky relished more than kissing you, it was being kissed by you. When you two were alone during the scarce downtime you’d get, all types of kisses were in order. Cheek kisses, mouth kisses, forehead kisses, neck kisses. They made Bucky feel enveloped by a welcoming surge of warmth and tenderness. He savored those moments, for they made him feel loved and cherished. It was safe to say he was absolutely smitten.

You took great joy in calling him out for how sensitive he is. His cheeks would immediately blush a gentle shade of tomato red and he would hang his head low in a desperate attempt to hide his toothy, broad smile he spectacularly failed to hold back and collect himself. But he knew it was absolute nonsense and all in good fun. He was aware of how fond you were of his clinginess and how cute you thought his gimmicks are.

“Hi, darling”, he greeted you, the low trill of his voice alone enough to make your heart skip a beat. He hugged you, briefly and slyly grazing his lips against your cheek.

He looked quite dapper in his uniform. Undoubtedly, he cleaned up nicely, you had to give him that. You were had been accustomed to a considerably ruggier look. His hair tended to be a messy halo around his head and strands would pop up here and there to frame and accentuate his handsome features. He sometimes even boasted a few bruises or marks, tell-tale signs of some recent tussle. He was never the one to shy out of a fight, although Steve was usually the one to get himself caught up in one and Bucky would be the one to defend his friend- and get a few good licks in before drawing Steve away.

You handed them their tickets to the Stark Expo. Bucky was ecstatic to find out he would be around in Brooklyn long enough to be able to go. You decided to get tickets for the two of you and Steve, something like a parting gift for Bucky. You smiled at the memory of when you told him you could all go together. His eyes went wide and he seemed so thrilled. You’ve lost count of how many times he thanked you. 

The two of you started walking side by side, stealing glances and smiles. Further down the road, you met with Steve. The three of you started catching up. Bucky told you all about Becca’s baking disaster and Steve’s latest misadventure in the back of an alley that morning. You giggled at Bucky’s frustration and at Steve’s endeavor to justify his shenanigans. 

“Buck- Bucky! Hear me out! That jerk was being disrespectful and he made that woman cry! What was I supposed to do-”

“Try not to get into a fight, that’s what! It’s been, what, the third time I’ve found you getting beat up in an alley or behind some diner just this month! I’m worried for you, Steve! I won’t be here to bail you out!”

“But-”

“Can’t you for once just do as your told? You know what? You may be my best friend but you also make for one hell of a pain in my ass, Rogers.”

You stifled a giggle at the two friends bickering. Before you knew it, the three of you arrived at the Expo. It was jaw-dropping and imposing. The lights, the inventions, the fireworks. Howard Stark sure knew how to put on a sensational show.

The inventions displayed at the Expo were astonishing and unprecedented. Flying cars, synthetic bodies, futuristic engines. You watched as Bucky marveled at the expeditions. He looked like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide and gleaming with excitement and mouth agape in wonder. The childlike enthusiasm and amazement in his eyes made you smile uncontrollably. You loved seeing him happy.

After a while, Steve left and Bucky went after him, concerned for him. Steve seemed in a bit of a haze, as if something was troubling him. He decided to not join you for the rest of the night.

“You know, he tried to enlist again this mornin’. God knows how many times he’s tried. He’s dead set on joining the army.”, Bucky explained.

“It kind of reminds me of someone”, you retorted.

“I’m just scared he’s way in over his head. War’s more brutal than some backalley. And if he keeps lying on enlistment forms they’ll either catch him or, God forbid, take him. It really gets on my nerves how thick-headed he is.”, Bucky said, looking down on his shoes.

“You know how Steve is. He has always had a fight in him. So have you. Steve wants to fight for what he believes is right. That’s his calling.”

“I’m worried sick he’ll get hurt and I won’t be there for him. He’s pretty keen on doing stupid  things.”

“You’re a good friend, Buck.”

The two of you strolled around the Expo. Bucky, all giddy and excited, ran around telling you all about the fascinating inventions. He surely loved showing off to you.  After a while, the conversation drifted elsewhere.

“Aren’t you scared? I mean, you said it yourself, war is brutal.”, you asked.

“I am. I couldn’t possibly not be.”, he chuckled almost nervously. “But it’s my duty to fight, the way it was my father’s before me. That’s one of the reasons I enlisted, you know. I wanted to finally make him proud. I had caused enough problems for him, especially after Ma died.”

“I don’t think that’s true. George loved you”

“I always got into trouble. After she passed away, I had to pretend everything is fine for Becca’s sake. But deep down I was scared and angry. Angry at everyone and everything. I would constantly get into fights, not unlike Steve. Maybe that’s why I’m so protective of him. I don’t want him to make the mistakes I did.”, he continued, head hanging down low. “Dad made a point of telling me how let down he was in me when I would come home wounded and bruised, but I don’t blame him. It’s just… His last words to me, before the accident, still ring in my head. ‘I’m disappointed in you, Bucky. You’ve really let me down here.’”, he muttered.

“You were a kid, Buck. You were processing so much grief and anger. You needed a way to unleash it. Sure, it wasn’t the best one. But you learned and grew from all this pain.”, you encouraged him.

“You’re pretty great, you know that?”, he chuckled, seemingly less on edge now. “I’ll miss you”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Barnes.”

“I’ll miss home, you know. You, Steve, Becca. But, at least, the thought of returning home will keep me going. God, I’ll miss you”

The two of you walked and talked for what seemed like hours, having a sincere heart to heart. After some time, you came across a photobooth. You both wanted to commemorate that night, so Bucky suggested taking a few pictures and you happily agreed.

You sat in the small, crammed space side by side. You placed your hand on his thigh, somewhat cheekily and he laid his head on your shoulder. You started taking pictures. While you were preoccupied with making silly faces for the camera, Bucky was busy keeping his eyes on you. You could feel his gaze on you, and, before you knew it, he laid a loving kiss on your cheek. He caught you by surprise, and the gentle touch of his lips on your cheek resulted in a toothy, ear-to-ear grin spreading across yours. You turned to him, seeing him beam at you adoringly. 

You could never get over how utterly and ridiculously impeccable and downright perfect he looked. His features were flawless. His piercing eyes were a breathtaking bright, steely blue. They glimmered in moments like these, when he was serene and content. The affectionate looks he gave you made your heart skip several beats. His rosy lips were soft and his kisses were tender and so sweet, you thought he could give you toothaches by merely kissing you. His nose was cute as a button and it took genuine effort on your part to not gently peck it with every chance you get. His hair was a velvety and silky mess with a few curls here and there framing his face and you wanted to gently card your hair through it and mess it up even more. His jaw strong jaw and cute little buttchin were the cherry on top. Bucky called to mind those Hollywood actors audiences swooned at. He was truly a sight for sore eyes.

You ogled at him long enough that a faint blush rose on his cheeks. He looked ravishing and irresistible so, without delay, you fondly grasped his neck and drove him into a passionate kiss on the lips. It wasn’t rushed or heated, but delicate and mellow. He leaned into your touch, craving it, and lowly hummed in content and satisfaction, as he cupped and caressed your cheek.

He pulled away with a delighted smile on his face. Both your hearts were bursting at their seams with pure, sheer love and affection for each other. That love transcended anything superficial, like looks or charm. Bucky had a heart of gold and sometimes it was too heavy for his own good. He cared so much for others that it took a toll on himself. But he was sincerely kind hearted and caring. You genuinely admired and appreciated him for that. He’s extremely loyal and devoted. He never gave up on anyone, not Steve nor his sister nor you. He was thrice as strong emotionally as he was physically, having to go through all that pain and despair and still be his sister’s rock. Bucky was an angel and he deserved the purest and sweetest love there is. And you wanted nothing more than to give him that.

Bucky grabbed the photos with a small smile on his features.

“You look nice”, he complemented.

“Not nearly as nice as you”, you replied, the words escaping your mouth before you knew it.

The grin disappeared from his lips in realization. The night was drawing to a close and he’d never get to share one with you for the foreseeable future. He started holding onto those photos a little harder now. 

“There you go.”, he said. moving his hand to give them to you.

“Keep them”, you retorted. “To remember me while you’re away.”

“To be frank, sweetheart, I don’t think I’d be able to forget you. In fact, I think I’d struggle to think of something else.”, he chuckled. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Buck.”

[marvel-nerd-87]

Saved By The Bell(3/?)

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Steve x Peggy, Natasha x Clint, Tony x Dr. Strange

Summary: (Y/N)’s mother decides to enroll her in a boarding school after being homeschooled her entire life. After being thrown in the deep end she decides maybe high school isn’t so bad.

Warnings: Language, high school and everything that come with, ex:bullying, harassment, etc.

Taglist/Requests:Open Masterlist

You walked into your class and were immediately swamped with eyes staring at you. You didn’t have any of your friends with you and suddenly you forgot how to function as a human being. You were buried under so much stress you didn’t feel some put a hand on both of your shoulders. You looked up to see Clint and Steve behind you. “Oh hey guys!”

“Hey (Y/N) we have an open seat next to us do you want to sit there?”

“Oh yeah sure!”

You followed them to the front of the room and put your bag down at your feet. You pulled your phone out and texted Loki.

‘I’m in class with Clint, what do I say if he ask us about the bet with Stark?’

‘Bullshit something. Or make sure it doesn’t come up. You’re one of us, you’ll figure it out. I promise.’

You locked your screen and listened in on Clint and Steve’s conversation.

“I get your captain of the football team and all but I’m telling you The Guardians are gonna win this game.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Call it wishful thinking but I’m about to be about 300 dollars and a cheese stick richer my friend.”

“Man. White people and there cheese.” You jumped at the voice behind you and turned around to see Sam. He moved to the desk in front of you and turned to face you and the other two.

“Are you excited for the game?” You leaned over to make yourself seem interested in what he had to say but in reality you were just trying to get as much information about the game tonight as you could. They angle you were sitting at gave him the perfect view of your cleavage. You had him hook line and sinker.

“Fuck yeah I am, sweet cheeks, we’re gonna crush it.”

“What’s so important about this game anyway? I’ve never been to high school so I don’t get it.” You were playing the innocent facade well. Maybe Loki was right.

“Well, the Guardians are our biggest competition so we have a lot riding on this.” He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Clint said he’d give me 150 to throw the game.”

“Are you gonna take it?” You let your mouth linger for a second after you finished your sentence.

“Not if you and Wanda are there tonight, I got show off for the ladies.”

“I’m sure we will be.”

The bell rang and you grabbed your stuff before booking it to your room. You threw open the door and saw Wanda in a black crop top, red leather jacket and shorts that showed the perfect amount of ass.

“I laid out clothes on your bed. I went through your closet and nothing was skimpy so you can borrow mine.”

You quickly threw on the high waisted miniskirt and what was basically a bikini top. You added your fishnets and jean jacket and left with Wanda to meet the others in Loki’s room. Wanda knocked on the door and Thor answered. “Hello Wanda, (Y/N), Loki and Barnes are waiting for you inside and I need to get to class so if you’ll excuse me.”

“Thank you Thor!”

Bucky wolf whistled at the way you two were dressed, “Damn Doll, you dirty up nice.”

“You two can flirt later, we have a job to do.”

You and Wanda were lazily hanging out behind the bleachers while Loki and Bucky hid out behind the field house. You were telling her about Sam when you noticed the other team’s bus pull in. A bunch of guys in blue jerseys walked off and Wanda spotted the one with ‘Quill’ written on the back. “Follow my lead.” She pulled a lollipop out of her purse and stuck it in her mouth. The way she was using her tongue on the damn thing was almost enough to get you to question your sexuality.

“Damn girl, what else does that tongue do?”

“Why don’t you come over here and find out?” Quill and the rest of the team walked over.

“Shouldn’t you babes be in class?” You could tell by the look in his eyes he was imaging the things he could do to you and Wanda. You laid a hand on his chest, “Why would we go to class when we can stand here and admire the view.” You winked at him and bit your bottom lip. What you didn’t know was the way you were dressed coupled with the way you bit your lip was making Bucky picture pinning you down and fucking you into the mattress until you screamed his name.

“Earth to Bucky.” Loki was waving his hand in front of Bucky’s face waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry what?”

“I said we’ve deflated the balls so we need to get the (Y/N) So she can tamper with the scoreboard.”

“Right.” Bucky sent you a text and told you to start phase two while Wanda had them distracted. You managed to slide out of the conversation and made your way to the scoreboard. Bucky boosted you up and you started messing with the wires until you were sure it wouldn’t read correctly. You were about to climb down when your foot slipped and you fell landing on top of Bucky. “Doll, you gotta stop fall for me.” He chuckled and helped you to your feet.

“Fuck You Barnes.” You stared at your feet knowing he noticed the blush painting your cheeks, “let’s get Wanda and get ready for the game.”

You Wanda Bucky and Loki made the long walk to the football stadium to watch the game. Sam spotted you and Wanda and approached.

“I see you two dressed for the occasion.” You didn’t realize it but you and Wanda had never changed and suddenly you felt very exposed.

“Of course, gotta make sure the game is played like it’s supposed to be.” You winked at him. You couldn’t wait until after the game was over and you could stop flirting with Sam.

“And damn Maximoff you killin’ it too.” Wanda rolled her eyes and sighed. Bucky elbowed her reminding her that we had a job to do.

“You’re not looking so bad yourself birdbrain.”

“Why don’t you two drop these losers and spend your night with a real man.” Sam was too close in your bubble for your liking.

“Sam is it? It looks like Rogers is trying to get your attention you should probably go see what he wants.”

“We can finish this conversation after the game.”

“Thanks Loki.”

“No problem, darling, you two are going to leave the game early so he can’t follow you.”

You and Wanda nod and the four of you sit down in the bleachers the game is going good until one of the Guardians kicks the ball at a weird angle and it hits you in the nose.

“Shit.” You cover your nose and blood begins to stream all over your hand and shirt. Wanda digs in her purse and hands you a tissue.

“I’m gonna walk her back to her room I’ll be back soon.” The walk to your room with Bucky was a long one he was helping you support yourself. You had never been faint around blood but this time you were starting to feel a bit queasy. Bucky helped you to your bed and got a wet rag from the bathroom wiping the blood off your chest.

“I’m gonna go back to the game. Get some sleep, Doll.”

“Goodnight Buck.”

You heard someone knocking on your door you figure it was just Wanda. You drowsily walked to the door and opened it. To see Quill standing in the door way. Your stomach dropped.

“Hey Quill, how can I help you?”

“All I was able to think about during the game was you and your roommate. I have to admit, it through me off my game a little. Probably why we’re losing.”

“I’m sorry to hear about that. I was actually going to bed. So bye.” You went to close the door but Quill shoved his foot to stop it, “god babe. The things I could do to you. We’re all alone. It’s halftime so I got Maybe 15 minuets it’ll be quick.” He pushed into the room you backed away but he kept getting closer.

“No thanks. I would very much enjoy it if you left.” You we’re physically pushing him towards the door but he was too strong.

“How about I just wait here for your roommate and we have some fu-“

“Hey asshole. I suggest you leave her alone if you know what’s good for you.” Bucky has Quill pinned to the wall by his collar.

“Hey man. You didn’t see the way she was acting earlier today.”

“Well That was earlier today. This is now and she said no.”

“Whatever. She’s a bitch anyways.”

“I suggest you go back to field before you get a career ending injury.”

Bucky put Peter down and he sulked back to the game.

“Thank you so much Bucky.”

“Don’t mention it Doll, are okay?”

“I’m a little shaken up but that’s fine. Why’d you come back?”

“Oh you forgot your purse and I figured you’d probably need it. I’m glad I came back in time to stop that asshole.”

“Where are Wanda and Loki?”

“Oh, Wanda wanted nachos so they went to get some but they’ll be back soon. I’m gonna wait until they get back. I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“You’re so sweet”

“No, I’m the bad boy you date to piss off your parents.”

“Oh yeah I’m sure my mom hates boys who fight fuckboys and clean my bloody nose up.”

“I’m sure she’d be proud of her daughter who just rigged the football game.”

“Well what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” Bucky smiled and sat down on the bed. He patted the bed beside him and you laid your head in his lap. He was lazily braiding pieces of your hair.

“Hey Buck.”

“Hey (Y/N).”

“How did you end up in this school?”

“Oh Uh.. my dad was a heavy drinker. One night it got so bad he pulled the rifle of the wall shoved it in his mouth and squeezed the trigger. Mama wasn’t right after that. They put her in the hospital. I still visit her on the holidays. It was either here or the system so I figure this was the best option.”

“I’m sorry Buck.”

“Ah don’t worry about it. I’m okay I promise. That’s why I don’t like drinking, I’m afraid I’ll end up like him. But that’s enough about my parents. What about yours?”

“Well my dad was never around he left when my mom told him she was pregnant. My mom worked odd jobs to make ends meet but now she works for Tony’s dad and wouldn’t have time to do that and school me so she put me here.”

“I’m glad she put you here.” You and Bucky we’re both laying on your sides facing each other.

“Me too...” your face were so close and you could see his gaze shifting between your lips and your eyes. You both leaned in and Wanda kicked open the door with a large pizza, “WE WON!!” Suddenly you and Bucky were pulled back to reality. “Are you okay? We overheard Quill talking to some of his teammates after the game.”

“Oh yeah I’m fine thanks to Bucky.” You took a slice from the box and told them what happened between you and Quill before Bucky showed up.

“I’m glad he got to you in time. How’s your nose?”

“Just a little sore. Did Sam try anything?”

“He tried to follow me but Loki stopped him. So all fuckboys tonight have been avoided.”

You were all sitting and talking when there was a knock on the door. “Who is it this time?” You pushed off the floor and opened the door.

“Hey Stark how can we help you?”

“Seeing as we won the game I just wanted to say thanks for helping me out.”

“It’s no problem man.” Bucky said standing behind you.

“Here.” He held at 150 dollars, “I figure it’s the least I could do.”

“What about the chemistry homework?”

“Call this ‘assuring my future’ Whenever I need ne’er-do-wells to do my bidding you’re just the fuckers I’m gonna call. Welcome to the new Stark enterprise.”

“Rightttt... good night Tony.” Wanda closed the door, “Do you guys just wanna crash here?”

“Uh sure.” Bucky and Loki laid on the floor between your beds. Everyone said their goodnights and passed out.

Taglist: @the7intheimpala @mooniightbucky @wolfarrowepz @iris-suoh

[thank-you-for-the-vampire-money]

JUST LIKE HIM

Request: N/A, because no one would be cruel enough to request this

A/N: I… am so… SORRY.

Dad!Steve x reader

Word count: 1680

Summary: Your little girl is growing up to be a carbon copy of her father, you only wish he was around to see it.

Warnings: sadness, so much sadness, angst, nightmares, anxiety and PTSD, smidge of racism (it’s avenged though because racism is not cool) funerals, death

(GIFs not mine)

      It was nearly two in the morning, and, as usual, the bed felt grotesquely… empty. You missed him so much.  You missed him so much it hurt to say his name. You missed him so much, neither you nor your daughter, Deirdre, ever got a full night’s rest.   Deirdre was almost eight, but she still spent most nights sleeping in your bed because of nightmares.

Poor thing, ever since her father left, she’s struggled with terrible anxiety; no eight-year-old should have to deal with that! She was barely old enough to understand what was going on with her brain and she was already popping pills just to ease the pain.  It broke your heart every time you saw that obnoxiously orange prescription bottle in her room.  What made it even sadder, was that the bottle sat right next to a framed photo taken of your little family on your last trip to Disney World.  Everyone was smiling in that picture.  You had your flower mickey mouse ears on, your husband was wearing his Donald Duck baseball cap and was holding Deirdre as she wore her adorable Cinderella costume.

Oh, how Deirdre missed her father.  She may have only known him for six years, but she almost never stopped talking about her dad.  She always talked about the games he would play with her or the time he came to her school’s career day as Captain America; she would reminisce about the family outings in the city her dad always insisted that they have, she even had some framed drawings of his on her bedroom walls.

That was one thing she and her father had in common; they both loved art.  Deirdre always asked her dad when she would get as good as him.  He always responded in the cutest, most heartfelt way, “if you practice every day, create what’s on your heart, and love what you make, you’ll be ten times better than me,”.  That phrase always made you want to cry, more so now than ever.

Deirdre was always so courageous too, just like her father.  You were once called by the school because she punched a kid in the face.  When you and her father went to meet with the principle, you asked why she did such a thing.  Apparently, the kid she punched was making fun of an African-American boy for his skin color.  Deirdre didn’t like what the kid was doing, so he punched him in the nose and made friends with the African-American boy.  Her father was so proud of his little girl.  What was even cuter, was that the Deirdre and the boy she saved, Thomas, are now best friends.  Friends you can only compare to Steve and Bucky.

You smiled at the memory.  Deirdre was always like that, like her dad.  She was so smart and creative, a little reckless at times, but, her heart was always in the right place.  She had his smile, his eyes, his cute laugh, she was exactly like her father.

 Just then, you heard the creaking of your door opening.  You sat up to see Deirdre standing in the doorway, clutching her little, stuffed dog to her chest.  “Mommy… I had a nightmare…” she whimpered, sniffling a little bit, “can I sleep with you?”.

This reminded you so much of her father when you two were first dating.  With Steve’s vivid and often occurring nightmares, he often slept in your bed for comfort.  He would knock on your door, dragging either his pillow or his blanket behind him, and stand in your doorway with an innocent face.  Once you turned to look at his tired figure, he’d look at you and ask, “(Y/N)?  Can I sleep with you tonight?  I had another nightmare…” …. Just like Deirdre would.

 “Of course Deedee, come over here,” you cooed, reaching your arms out to welcome her.  She shuffled over, crawling under the big, white comforter, and cuddled up to you, tucking her head under your chin.  She always made the bed a lot less lonely.

“Mommy, I miss daddy,” Deirdre whimpered, fiddling with her stuffed dog’s ear, “I know Deedee, me too,” you replied.  The little girl shifted over to her back was now to your chest, letting you play with her hair and allowing her to speak more easily. “Do you remember the first time daddy tried to cook dinner while you were on vacation with Auntie Nat and Aunt Wanda?” she asked, sounding slightly happier, but dull at the same time.  You chuckled, “oh, I remember, your dad nearly set the apartment on fire,” you laughed as Deirdre laughed along with you. There it was, that beautiful smile. That beautiful smile that looked exactly like her dad's.

 “Or what about the time he got sprayed with a skunk on his morning run?” you reminded, hoping to keep Deirdre smiling; her smile was so rare these days, you wanted this moment to last as long as possible. “Yeah!” she agreed, giggling still, “he smelled like an old dumpster for hours until you could buy enough tomato juice to make the smell go away!”.

“Oh!  What about the time he bet Uncle Bucky he could do more push-ups than him?” she remembered excitedly, “and Uncle Buck cheated my using his metal arm?  That was pretty funny!”, “yeah, that was not the best idea your father has ever had,” you added.

 For the next half hour, you and your daughter reminisced on good memories you had shared about her father.  You brought up her fifth birthday- oh, her fifth birthday was the best!  She had asked for a Barbie doll that looked like you and a Captain America action figure to go with her baby Barbie, so she could have a doll version of your family.

Deirdre even remembered Georgia, her father’s service dog!  He had gotten Georgia as a S.H.I.E.L.D mandated service dog, to help with his PTSD and Depression.  Deirdre ended up falling in love with this Golden Retriever!  Nothing could separate them!  But, after he left, Georgia was one of the only things Deirdre had left of her father.  But, soon after, Georgia died due to the stress and grief of losing her master. Deirdre was in tears when Georgia left.

 Ugh!  Why did he have to leave on that stupid mission!?  If he had never gone to get that damn USB, he’d still be here!  Why did he have to leave you?!  You started crying at the memory of him, saying the last words you’d ever hear from him over the phone, gunshots and grenades going off in the background…

“(Y/N), baby, we’re outnumbered!” he yelled from the other line.  Your heart sunk.  You were always afraid of something like this happening… “I can’t fight back…” “no! No, Steve!  You always fight back!  Fight back!” you cried through tears of fear and stress.

 “(Y/N), listen to me,” you didn’t want to listen to him, you didn’t want to hear those dreadful words come from his mouth, “I won’t be coming home this time…”.  Those words echoed in your head over and over again.  You didn’t know it at the time, but that sentence would haunt you for the rest of your life.

“(Y/N)… if the rest of the team is going to make it out alive, I need to go ever there and distract the enemy, or else we're all going to die…” Steve sighed over the loud gunshots.  “Steve please…” you begged, nearly sobbing as tears streamed heavily down your cheeks.

“(Y/N)… I have to do this,” he said, right before an explosion went off in the background, “I love you doll, both you and Deirdre.  Tell her that I love her, will you do that for me, doll?”.  You swallowed the lump in your throat, “of course, baby, I’ll tell her that for you…”.  The words almost left a bad taste in your mouth.

“I love you both, and I’ll see you on the other side, okay?  I love you both so so much and I always will,”

“We love you too, St-“ you tried to finish, but a pained cry of agony interrupted you, followed by silence.  “Steve?” you called shakily, clutching the phone so tightly it was possible you could break it, “Steve?  Steve, please answer me!”.  Silence… then static…

He was gone.

Once the body was brought back, Steve was given the most honorable of funerals.  He was buried next to his mom and dad in Brooklyn.  Everyone close to him laid something in his coffin for him to be buried with.  Bucky gave him an old photo of them as kids, Sam left his dog tags from when he was in the Air Force, and Nat laid down the Avengers patch that she wore on the shoulder of her uniform.  You had found something extra special to be buried with Steve.  You gave him your wedding photo and the original ultrasound pictures taken of Deirdre.  You knew he would like to have these.

She didn’t tell you this until later, but Deirdre did lay something of her own in her father’s coffin when you weren’t looking. You asked her what she put in there and she said a copy of the photo taken in Disney World.  That nearly made you cry.  "I wanted daddy and me to be looking at the same picture," she said, wiping tears from her usually bright. blue eyes.

 You looked over at Deirdre, who was, thankfully, sleeping.  It pained you to look at her and see Steve’s image.  Why did he have to leave you two behind?!  He left you, a single mother with a six-year-old daughter, alone!  You were so mad at him!  You were mad but you wanted him back so badly!  You missed his boyish smile, you missed his soothing hugs, you missed his loving kisses, you missed his stories, you missed him biting his lip when he was concentrating; you missed HIM!  You missed Steve and it pained you to look at your daughter and see that she was just like… him.

TAGLIST:

@buckyshattergirl @paranoid-borderline-insane @bitchy-tacos

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday: Do-Si-Dos and Tagalongs

(This is a little one-shot originally written for Halloween a few years back, prior to season 7 airing. I know that Halloween has passed, but only by a couple of days, and so I thought I would bring this little bit of mischief and fluff back. I suppose we might call this a sort of alternate s7 headcanon fic, looking at a bit of domesticity that might have happened had everyone stayed in Storybrooke post s6. Enjoy!!). I have attempted to use a “Read more” break - I hope it worked on mobile. If you prefer this fic can also be found on AO3 and ff.net in my “Of Swans and Swords and Hopeful Hearts” collection.

Summary : Emma stumbles into a bit of a household mystery, leading right back to her pirate husband and a very sweet reward for everyone.

“Do-Si-Dos & Tagalongs” By: @snowbellewells

It all began with little Robyn, as it often did, and her wisps of untamed auburn hair framing her face, with that mischievous, gap-toothed six-year-old child’s grin and twinkle in her bright, beguiling eyes – both features that never failed to remind those who had known him of her late father and the bit of roguish bandit his smile never quite lost, even after settling in modern day Storybrooke. She had come to the two-story house Emma, Killian, and Henry had called home for some five years, with a platter full of cookies and tarts, nearly three months past, beaming and incredibly proud of herself as she presented the whole thing to the Savior, her pirate husband, and their Author son, whom she merely called “Auntie Emma”, “Uncle Killy”, and “Cousin Henry”, as a ‘thank you’ to the three of them for helping her to corral and coax her erstwhile little black cat Mac back home when he’d gotten out of the house and made a beeline for trouble, just as his young mistress often did. Regina and Zelena both trailed after her, doing their best to look bored and unconcerned with the proceedings, hands in pockets of tailored coats and matching sisterly arched brows challenging anyone to assume otherwise.

It was Regina who had shrugged sardonically when Killian exclaimed over the deliciousness of the crisp, chocolate Thin Mints, “No need to get so excited, Pirate. We just over-ordered from the Girl Scouts.”

There had been a whole, long explanation required of Emma from her inquisitive Captain once the Mills sisters and their pint size charge had gone. ‘What were Girl Scouts? Why did they sell cookies? How does one procure such delicacies? Which flavors were the best?’ and so on. For the moment, however, Emma had not been able to do more than giggle to herself at her dumbstruck husband smiling affectionately at the little girl and her gift, crow’s feet crinkling adorably beside his eyes – not to mention Robyn beaming back at him. She had sneakily managed to snap a couple pictures of the whole thing with her iPhone before Killian realized, and though Henry had seen what she was up to and smirked knowingly, he had refrained from giving her away.

Emma hadn’t thought much more about the little episode since. As was always true of Girl Scout cookies (and homemade Enchanted Forest-style apple and cherry tarts too, she was quickly learning) the plate of goodies hadn’t lasted long. Henry, fully a teenager and having recently taken up track at Violet, Grace, and Nicholas and Ava’s urging, (‘His own little crew!’, the perpetual loner Emma had been all through her own school years kept crowing happily inside) ate enough for the three of them combined, Killian had the most ridiculous sweet tooth she had ever seen, and she was rapidly discovering her own weakness for warmed up baked goods of all kinds on a chilly Fall evening. Never in her life had Emma been so settled and comfortable in one place for so long, and she couldn’t deny that she was savoring it. So when her favorites, the Do-Si-Dos, Henry’s preferred Samoas, and Killian’s Thin Mints all vanished by the end of that week, she was disappointed to find their surprise treats gone, but not at all shocked. Nothing seemed strange in fact, until she went to dig through her purse where she always kept five or ten bucks worth of dollar bills tucked away for impulsive buys, and instead found nothing but empty space.

The first time, she merely shook her head at herself; confused, but figuring that she must have snagged something at the gas station counter the last time she filled the Bug and then forgotten to replenish her stash. But it kept happening – a second, third, fourth, and even fifth, time. The radar which used to serve her well as a bail bondsperson tracking down skips in Boston had been set off and her suspicious nature engaged. A strange little mystery had presented itself in her house by the sea – and Emma Swan was determined to get to the bottom of it.

[[MORE]]

Henry was her first suspect, as she thought he might have just figured he was getting a quick advance on his allowance to take his friends for Cokes and cheese fries at Granny’s after practice or something like that. Yet, after watching her son for just a couple of days – and his allowance payout coming and going without him offering to pay her back – Emma ruled him out as the culprit. That only left her sneakily playful pirate husband, and honestly she should have known it was him without even having to test her findings.

Emma wasn’t sure how Killian was managing to swipe his loot right out from under her nose without her being able to catch him at it, and she was even more puzzled by what he could possibly be buying so often that she never saw a trace of, but then, she had never doubted how slick he was, and he’d had centuries to perfect his skills.

The whole little intrigue carried on for nearly another month before Emma finally got the lucky break that spoiled Killian’s secret. She came home early from the station one afternoon; her dad having arrived a couple hours ahead of his own shift to give her a break, and as she turned the corner onto their street – though theirs was really the only house on it as the land began to roll down toward the harbor – she saw Killian closing the door behind him as he disappeared back inside, while Robyn with one of her little Girl Scout buddies in tow hopped down the front steps and out through the white picket fence onto the sidewalk, the two of them giggling together conspiratorially as they did.

Pulling up beside them, Emma parked her car at the curb quickly and hopped out to catch them before they could get far. She met the girls at the sidewalk, and for a moment wasn’t sure whether to crouch down at their level playfully, or to cross her arms and give them her ‘Mom’ look to get the answers she suddenly sensed she had found at last. She went with arms crossed authoritatively over her chest, eyebrow cocked expectantly, not wanting to consider the fact that she must look like some sort of blonde cross between her own schoolteacher-princess mother and Robyn’s Aunt Regina when she meant business. All she said was, “What brings you two here?” with a hint of a jest in her words, even though her stance clearly expected an answer.

Robyn had the decency to flush and look a bit nervous, her eyes falling to study the squeaky-clean saddle shoes she always wore with her Girl Scout uniform, before snapping her eyes back up to the Savior’s with a smile that would have done both her snarky mother and her charming outlaw father proud. ‘Oh yeah,’ Emma thought, she was definitely seeing a bit of Zelena’s formerly conniving streak now. “Nothing really,” the girl tried brightly. “Laney had just never met Captain Hook before, and so I told her it was no big deal, we were tight, and brought her over.”

The other little girl said nothing to confirm or deny Robyn’s claim, though her awkward shifting from side-to-side easily spoke for itself. Not that Emma would have mistaken her for the ringleader of whatever shenanigan was playing out here anyway; that had her unofficial niece’s fingerprints all over it. “That’s all, huh?” Emma questioned, making her tone clearly convey her doubt.

Zelena’s little troublemaker she might be, but Robyn had a penchant for stepping into mischief that was all her own and everyone knew it. When Emma didn’t budge, it only took a few more awkward seconds of stare down on the sidewalk before the little schemer cracked. When she spoke again, it was with the sincere tone of Robin Hood, legend of Sherwood Forest, which she confessed. “Oh alright, fine! You caught us! But it was just too easy not to try!”

“Wait…what was too easy?” Emma questioned, momentarily more confused than she had been, tapping her foot on the concrete and giving the youngster an even more searching look. “What are you talking about?!?” she pressed in near exasperation.

It was at this juncture that Robyn’s little pal lost her nerve and deserted the cause, clearly not having signed on to face questioning by the Sheriff-Savior. She blurted out an excuse about her mom waiting for her, blushing and stammering as she did, and then turned tail and ran.

“Fraidy cat,” Robyn muttered in disgust, the curled lip and glower she adopted as she crossed her own little arms in annoyance reminding Emma so strongly of the now reformed Wicked Witch in her heyday that for a moment she almost burst out laughing at the expression on such a tiny face, completely ruining the serious stance she was trying to hold.

“Okay, Robyn,” Emma sighed, once it was just the two of them. With a guiding hand on the little girl’s shoulder, she walked them back toward the front porch, taking a seat on the steps with her. “Let’s have it – the truth this time. Whatever you’ve been up to, it can’t be that terrible. I’m not really mad, just ready to get to the bottom of this little mystery.”

Robyn heaved a large sigh, dramatically aggrieved as only a little girl could be, and then finally started talking. “I just wanted our troop to sell the most cookies – and your husband’s such an easy target. You know that, right? I mean, I figured it out weeks ago when we brought you guys those ‘Thank You’ treats – Mom, Aunt Regina, and I… remember?”

Emma nodded, thinking back over evening meals since then, when Killian hadn’t eaten much and she had questioned if he felt alright, only to have him say he wasn’t very hungry; occasions where she had offered to make cookies and he had evasively insisted she needn’t trouble herself on his account, and again to the odd disappearance of her random bits of spending money. She was putting the pieces together even before Robyn finished coming clean.

“Your pirate just can’t resist us,” the kid shrugged, looking only a little bit sheepish now that she was caught, but not really sorry. “I don’t know if it’s the outfits, or little girls with big pleading eyes needing help, or if he just really likes our cookies, but every time I bring a new member of the troop by with boxes to sell, no matter how often we show up, he buys some more. It’s like he can’t help himself. And hey, who am I to complain?”

Emma snorted indelicately, struck by Robyn’s cunning and ingenuity, along with the sheer ridiculousness of the entire situation. Shaking her head in both disbelief and begrudging affection that wouldn’t have him any other way, Emma wondered mildly for a few seconds how she hadn’t known this was the case from the start. ‘Fearsome pirate of the seas,’ she mocked in her head, ‘bested by a bunch of cute six-year-olds with baked goods.’

Knowing that she shouldn’t simply let Robyn off with being so opportunistic and sneaky, yet not really sure what to do about it either, Emma merely gave the little girl a wry smile and light one-armed squeeze to her side with a gentle remonstrance. “Well, it’s not like you’ve really done much harm – except to my pocketbook.” She did frown just a bit there, and Robyn looked genuinely contrite. “But no more, okay? I don’t know where my pirate has been stashing his loot, but he has to be almost out of room. We’ve made our contribution to the Girl Scouts for the year. Got it?”

Robyn nodded dutifully, and though there was no judging the mischief that her hurricane “niece” could get into, Emma sensed that she understood the game was up.

Ruffling Robyn’s hair, Emma felt a momentary pang in her chest, picturing Henry at that age and wondering what he had been like and if he had been as playfully ornery as well. Having her son with her now, the relationship they had forged, and the family they’d become was incredible – so much more than she had ever thought she would have – but things happened occasionally, striking her at the oddest times and there would be a melancholy moment or two of wishing she could take a portal back in time to re-live what she had lost with her son, who would be grown up and ready to leave them all too soon.

As if sensing her change in mood, Robyn reached out her little hand to lay it on Emma’s arm. “Aunt Emma?” she asked softly, her voice as hesitant and concerned as it ever got. “Are you alright? Your eyes got kinda funny and far away.”

Shaking the bittersweet reflections from her mind, Emma gave Robyn another gentle smile. “Yep, Trouble, I’m fine. Just got sidetracked for a minute.” She stood and pulled Robyn up playfully beside her. “Now, you’d better go home before it starts getting dark. We’re good, okay? Don’t worry. I am gonna have to call your Mom and talk to her about this, but I imagine if you don’t pull any more get-rich-quick schemes, we’ll all just put this behind us.”

“Okay, Aunt Emma,” Robyn agreed, bouncing back to her usual chipper self and past the anxious moment with a child’s usual resilience. She gave her honorary auntie a hug around the waist, which Emma gladly returned, and then set off toward Zelena’s little house a block over.

“Go straight home and get there safe!” Emma called after her in parting, to which she saw Robyn nod smartly and wave back over her shoulder. Emma watched her until the little girl rounded the corner at the end of the street and out of sight.

Turning, Emma opened their heavy oak front door and slipped into their home soundlessly, hoping if her luck held, that she just might catch Killian unawares with his prize. What she got as she stood in the entryway, flabbergasted and mouth hanging open, was not quite what she had expected at all. Standing almost directly across from her, frozen before the door into the cellar that until now they had both skirted around and almost never opened – demons purged, but still not eager to loose painful memories – looking both startled at patently guilty, was her husband. Caught red handed, Emma’s inner voice supplied smugly.

“Why, hello there, Love,” Killian finally greeted, trying for suave and “turning on the smolder” as Emma had often teased him in calling it since showing her pirate Tangled and delighting in his resounding approval of Flynn Rider. He would have succeeded too, if she hadn’t known him as well as she did. “You’re home early.”

“Yep,” she stated simply, popping the ‘p’ sound as he often did in his own speech and immediately causing a change in his demeanor, alerted that she was onto his subterfuge. Emma pushed away from the door and stalked toward him slowly, the heels of her boots on hardwood the only sound in the quiet foyer as her gaze pinned him in place – turning all of his usual methods back on him and loving it.

“Would you like to tell me what you’ve been up to?” she queried, her voice practically a purr as she reached out a finger to run lightly through the chest hair peeking out of his overly undone shirt collar and batting her lashes seductively at him, as if she really were some blushing damsel in his original realm.

“Why – uh – whatever do you mean, Swan?” he tried, an equally over-the-top stab at guileless innocence on his face and in those stunning blue eyes, even as she also saw him swallow hard and scratch nervously behind his ear, the one tic he couldn’t seem to rid himself of, no matter how much a dead giveaway it was.

“I mean,” Emma murmured silkily, eyes narrowing as she leaned in even closer to him, nose almost brushing against his and her breath hot along his collarbone as she practically licked her lips while studying her quarry. Granted, her own pulse had skyrocketed at his close proximity, but she was more pleased to revel in the way her husband squirmed nervously under her hungry gaze. “You’ve been discovered, Pirate. Your supplier ratted you out.”

At that, Killian huffed out a low breath, eyes falling as he gave a slight chuckle and shook his head, having known his wife would eventually get to the bottom of what he had been doing, and almost relieved to have the secret out in the open. He truly had not meant to gather such and collection of the things anyway, but he simply could not bring himself to say no to the adorable miniature females in their sharp skirt and vest ensembles, and by this point, he was pretty sure they knew it and kept arriving at his doorstep on purpose. At any rate, Emma might have his head at the amount of money he had pilfered from her and spent needlessly, but surely they would enjoy the spoils, if nothing else. At length, with a short dip of his head in a resigned nod, Killian answered, “Aye, I figured she might at some point.”

Emma couldn’t help cracking the tiniest smile, the whole thing so silly, so domestic, so normal, and nothing like the trials they had faced ever since meeting one another and the secrets they once held back for fear of losing the other they had fought so hard to find. She shook her head, leaning in to rest her forehead against his, simply enjoying the warm comfort of his skin on hers and the soft texture of his hair where her fingers had delved in at his nape. “You’re hopeless, Babe… You know that, don’t you?”

“As you say, Wife,” he agreed good naturedly, his voice low and mumbled against the shell of her ear, making her tremble helplessly to the point of being weak-kneed, the stern composure she’d been trying to hold long gone.

“Well, let’s see this stash of booty you’ve stored up,” she prodded, curious now just how many boxes of Girl Scout cookies he had managed to amass, and anxious to tease him just a little bit more about how he had been so taken in.

Sighing with mostly pretended reluctance, Killian took her hand and led her back down the cellar steps behind him, into the once dark room she had not ventured to for some time. Once there, to her amused shock and surprise, right up against the bars where she had once, while possessed by the Darkness, bound Gold as a prisoner, were stacked boxes and boxes of every type cookie the Scouts sold, nearly reaching up to the ceiling. There was nothing else to do but burst into a fit of helpless giggles, and when she did, leaning into her husband’s side to stay upright, Emma felt his shoulders shaking as he joined in.

Never again would she look at this space and see nothing but lonely dark and a depth of despair and hate. Unintentional though it might have been, Killian had placed a whole new memory front and center.

They ended up bagging the cookies in half dozens and giving them out to very happy trick-or-treaters the next week on Halloween night.

And if they enjoyed feeding the remnants of the last couple boxes to each other in bed… well, that was their own delicious secret no one else need know.

Tagging: @whimsicallyenchantedrose @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @let-it-raines @resident-of-storybrooke @winterbaby89 @laschatzi @linda8084 @thislassishooked @therooksshiningknight @thisonesatellite

[snowbellewells]

“Do-Si-Dos and Tagalongs”

~ Okay folks, here is my first attempt at participating in the CS Halloweek event; I hope to do some of the other prompts over the course of the next week, but we’ll see how the time goes.  This one – in honor of the first day’s Mysteries (Cozy, Noir, Thriller) theme – is just a playful, fluffy little caper where Emma catches the thief who has been pilfering her spare cash and discovers what the culprit has been doing with it as well.  Sorry it was not posted on Day 1, but I didn’t want it to go completely unpublished, so better late than never, I guess!  It allowed me the chance to finally do something with a prompt/headcanon I saw on Tumblr AGES ago, and I hope its originator (I believe it was @ripplestitchskein, to give credit where it’s due) will not be upset that I tried my own little version of it.  Mostly just for fun, but I hope someone finds it cute and enjoys it.  The “mystery” may be a bit of a stretch, but here goes…

 “Do-Si-Dos & Tagalongs”

By: snowbellewells (or TutorGirlml on ff.net)

           It all began with little Robyn, as it often does, and her wisps of untamed auburn hair framing her face, with that mischievous, gap-toothed six-year-old child’s grin and twinkle in her bright, beguiling eyes – both features that never failed to remind those who had known him of her late father and the bit of roguish bandit his smile never quite lost, even after settling in modern day Storybrooke.  She had come to the two-story house Emma, Killian, and Henry had called home for some five years, with a platter full of cookies and tarts, nearly three months past, beaming and incredibly proud of herself as she presented the whole thing to the Savior, her pirate husband, and their Author son, whom she merely called “Auntie Emma”, “Uncle Killy”, and “Cousin Henry”, as a ‘thank you’ to the three of them for helping her to corral and coax her erstwhile little black cat Mac back home when he’d gotten out of the house and made a beeline for trouble, just as his young mistress often did. Regina and Zelena both trailed after her, doing their best to look bored and unconcerned with the proceedings, hands in pockets of tailored coats and matching sisterly arched brows challenging anyone to assume otherwise.

           It was Regina who had shrugged sardonically when Killian exclaimed over the deliciousness of the crisp, chocolate Thin Mints, “No need to get so excited, Pirate! We just over-ordered from the Girl Scouts.”

           There had been a whole, long explanation required of Emma from her inquisitive Captain once the Mills sisters and their pint size charge had gone. ‘What were Girl Scouts?  Why did they sell cookies? How does one procure such delicacies?  Which flavors were the best?’ and so on.  For the moment, however, Emma had not been able to do more than giggle to herself at her dumbstruck husband smiling affectionately at the little girl and her gift, crow’s feet crinkling adorably beside his eyes – not to mention Robyn beaming back at him.  She had sneakily managed to snap a couple pictures of the whole thing with her iPhone before Killian realized, and though Henry had seen what she was up to and smirked knowingly, he had refrained from giving her away.

           Emma hadn’t thought much more about the little episode since.  As was always true of Girl Scout cookies (and homemade Enchanted Forest-style apple and cherry tarts too, she was quickly learning) the plate of goodies hadn’t lasted long.  Henry, fully a teenager and having recently taken up track at Violet, Grace, and Nicholas and Ava’s urging, (‘His own little crew!’, the perpetual loner Emma had been all through her own school years kept crowing happily inside) ate enough for the three of them combined, Killian had the most ridiculous sweet tooth she had ever seen, and she was rapidly discovering her own weakness for warmed up baked goods of all kinds on a chilly Fall evening.  Never in her life had Emma been so settled and comfortable in one place for so long, and she couldn’t deny that she was savoring it.  So when her favorites, the Do-Si-Dos, Henry’s preferred Samoas, and Killian’s Thin Mints all vanished by the end of that week, she was disappointed to find their surprise treats gone, but not at all shocked. Nothing seemed strange in fact, until she went to dig through her purse where she always kept five or ten bucks worth of dollar bills tucked away for impulsive buys, and instead found nothing but empty space.

           The first time, she merely shook her head at herself; confused, but figuring that she must have snagged something at the gas station counter the last time she filled the Bug and then forgotten to replenish her stash.  But it kept happening – a second, third, fourth, and even fifth, time.  The radar which used to serve her well as a bail bondsperson tracking down skips in Boston had been set off and her suspicious nature engaged.  A strange little mystery had presented itself in her house by the sea – and Emma Swan was determined to get to the bottom of it.

           Henry was her first suspect, as she thought he might have just figured he was getting a quick advance on his allowance to take his friends for Cokes and cheese fries at Granny’s after practice or something like that. Yet, after watching her son for just a couple of days – and his allowance payout coming and going without him offering to pay her back – Emma ruled him out as the culprit. That only left her sneakily playful pirate husband, and honestly she should have known it was him without even having to test her findings.

           Emma wasn’t sure how Killian was managing to swipe his loot right out from under her nose without her being able to catch him at it, and she was even more puzzled by what he could possibly be buying so often that she never saw a trace of, but then, she had never doubted how slick he was, and he’d had centuries to perfect his skills.  

           The whole little intrigue has been going on almost another month before Emma finally got the lucky break that spoiled Killian’s secret.  She came home early from the station one afternoon; her dad having arrived a couple hours ahead of his own shift to give her a break, and as she turned the corner onto their street – though theirs was really the only house on it as the land began to roll down toward the harbor – she saw Killian closing the door behind him as he disappeared back inside, while Robyn with one of her little Girl Scout buddies in tow hopped down the front steps and out through the white picket fence onto the sidewalk, the two of them giggling together conspiratorially as they did.

           Pulling up beside them, Emma parked her car at the curb quickly and hopped out to catch them before they could get far.  She met the girls at the sidewalk, and for a moment wasn’t sure whether to crouch down at their level playfully, or to cross her arms and give them her ‘Mom’ look to get the answers she suddenly sensed she had found at last. She went with arms crossed authoritatively over her chest, eyebrow cocked expectantly, not wanting to consider the fact that she must look like some sort of blonde cross between her own schoolteacher-princess mother and Robyn’s Aunt Regina when she meant business.  All she said was, “What brings you two here?” with a hint of a jest in her words, even though her stance clearly expected an answer.

           Robyn had the decency to flush and look a bit nervous, her eyes falling to study the squeaky-clean saddle shoes she always wore with her Girl Scout uniform, before snapping her eyes back up to the Savior’s with a smile that would have done both her snarky mother and her charming outlaw father proud.  ‘Oh yeah,’ Emma thought, she was definitely seeing a bit of Zelena’s formerly conniving streak now.  “Nothing really,” the girl tried brightly.  “Laney had just never met Captain Hook before, and so I told her it was no big deal, we were tight, and brought her over.”

           The other little girl said nothing to confirm or deny Robyn’s claim, though her awkward shifting from side-to-side easily spoke for itself.  Not that Emma would have mistaken her for the ringleader of whatever shenanigan was playing out here anyway; that had her unofficial niece’s fingerprints all over it.  “That’s all, huh?” Emma questioned, making her tone clearly convey her doubt.

           Zelena’s little troublemaker she might be, but Robyn had a penchant for stepping into mischief that was all her own and everyone knew it.  When Emma didn’t budge, it only took a few more awkward seconds of stare down on the sidewalk before the little schemer cracked. When she spoke again, it was with the sincere tone of Robin Hood, legend of Sherwood Forest, which she confessed. “Oh alright, fine!  You caught us! But it was just too easy not to try!”

           “Wait…what was too easy?” Emma questioned, momentarily more confused than she had been, tapping her foot on the concrete and giving the youngster an even more searching look.  “What are you talking about?!?” she pressed in near exasperation.  

           It was at this juncture that Robyn’s little pal lost her nerve and deserted the cause, clearly not having signed on to face questioning by the Sheriff-Savior. She blurted out an excuse about her mom waiting for her, blushing and stammering as she did, and then turned tail and ran.

           “Fraidy cat,” Robyn muttered in disgust, the curled lip and glower she adopted as she crossed her own little arms in annoyance reminding Emma so strongly of the now reformed Wicked Witch in her heyday that for a moment she almost burst out laughing at the expression on such a tiny face, completely ruining the serious stance she was trying to hold.

           “Okay, Robyn,” Emma sighed, once it was just the two of them.  With a guiding hand on the little girl’s shoulder, she walked them back toward the front porch, taking a seat on the steps with her. “Let’s have it – the truth this time.  Whatever you’ve been up to, it can’t be that terrible.  I’m not really mad, just ready to get to the bottom of this little mystery.”

           Robyn heaved a large sigh, dramatically aggrieved as only a little girl could be, and then finally started talking.  “I just wanted our troop to sell the most cookies – and your husband’s such an easy target.  You know that, right? I mean, I figured it out weeks ago when we brought you guys those ‘Thank You’ treats – Mom, Aunt Regina, and I… remember?”

           Emma nodded, thinking back over evening meals since then, when Killian hadn’t eaten much and she had questioned if he felt alright, only to have him say he wasn’t very hungry; occasions where she had offered to make cookies and he had evasively insisted she needn’t trouble herself on his account, and again to the odd disappearance of her random bits of spending money.  She was putting the pieces together even before Robyn finished coming clean.

           “Your pirate just can’t resist us,” the kid shrugged, looking only a little bit sheepish now that she was caught, but not really sorry.  “I don’t know if it’s the outfits, or little girls with big pleading eyes needing help, or if he just really likes our cookies, but every time I bring a new member of the troop by with boxes to sell, no matter how often we show up, he buys some more.  It’s like he can’t help himself.  And hey, who am I to complain?”

           Emma snorted indelicately, struck by Robyn’s cunning and ingenuity, along with the sheer ridiculousness of the entire situation.  Shaking her head in both disbelief and begrudging affection that wouldn’t have him any other way, Emma wondered mildly for a few seconds how she hadn’t known this was the case from the start.  ‘Fearsome pirate of the seas,’ she mocked in her head, ‘bested by a bunch of cute six-year-olds with baked goods.’  

           Knowing that she shouldn’t simply let Robyn off with being so opportunistic and sneaky, yet not really sure what to do about it either, Emma merely gave the little girl a wry smile and light one-armed squeeze to her side with a gentle remonstrance.  “Well, it’s not like you’ve really done much harm – except to my pocketbook.”  She did frown just a bit there, and Robyn looked genuinely contrite.  “But no more, okay?  I don’t know where my pirate has been stashing his loot, but he has to be almost out of room.  We’ve made our contribution to the Girl Scouts for the year.  Got it?”

           Robyn nodded dutifully, and though there was no judging the mischief that her hurricane “niece” could get into, Emma sensed that she understood the game was up.  

           Ruffling Robyn’s hair, Emma felt a momentary pang in her chest, picturing Henry at that age and wondering what he had been like and if he had been as playfully ornery as well.  Having her son with her now, the relationship they had forged, and the family they have become is incredible – so much more than she had ever thought she would have – but things happened occasionally, striking her at the oddest times and there would be a melancholy moment or two of wishing she could take a portal back in time to re-live what she had lost with her son, who would be grown up and ready to leave them all too soon.

           As if sensing her change in mood, Robyn reached out her little hand to lay it on Emma’s arm.  “Aunt Emma?” she asked softly, her voice as hesitant and concerned as it ever got. “Are you alright?  Your eyes got kinda funny and far away.”

           Shaking the bittersweet reflections from her mind, Emma gave Robyn another gentle smile.  “Yep, Trouble, I’m fine.  Just got sidetracked for a minute.”  She stood and pulled Robyn up playfully beside her.  “Now, you’d better go home before it starts getting dark.  We’re good, okay?  Don’t worry.  I am gonna have to call your Mom and talk to her about this, but I imagine if you don’t pull any more get-rich-quick schemes, we’ll all just put this behind us.”

           “Okay, Aunt Emma,” Robyn agreed, bouncing back to her usual chipper self and past the anxious moment with a child’s usual resilience.  She gave her honorary auntie a hug around the waist, which Emma gladly returned, and then set off toward Zelena’s little house a block over.  

           “Go straight home and get there safe!” Emma called after her in parting, to which she saw Robyn nod smartly and wave back over her shoulder.  Emma watched her until the little girl rounded the corner at the end of the street and out of sight.

           Turning, Emma opened their heavy oak front door and slipped into their home soundlessly, hoping if her luck held, that she just might catch Killian unawares with his prize.  What she got as she stood in the entryway, flabbergasted and mouth hanging open, was not quite what she had expected at all.  Standing almost directly across from her, frozen before the door into the cellar that until now they had both skirted around and almost never opened – demons purged, but still not eager to loose painful memories – looking both startled at patently guilty, was her husband.  Caught red handed, Emma’s inner voice supplied smugly.

           “Why, hello there, Love,” Killian finally greeted, trying for suave and “turning on the smolder” as Emma has often teased him in calling it since showing her pirate Tangled and delighting in his resounding approval of Flynn Rider.  He would have succeeded too, if she hadn’t known him as well as she did. “You’re home early.”

           “Yep,” she stated simply, popping the ‘p’ sound as he often did in his own speech and immediately causing a change in his demeanor, alerted that she was onto his subterfuge.  Emma pushed away from the door and stalked toward him slowly, the heels of her boots on hardwood the only sound in the quiet foyer as her gaze pinned him in place – turning all of his usual methods back on him and loving it.

           “Would you like to tell me what you’ve been up to?” she queries, her voice practically a purr as she reached out a finger to run lightly through the chest hair peeking out of his overly undone shirt collar and batting her lashes seductively at him, as if she really were some blushing damsel in his original realm.

           “Why – uh – whatever do you mean, Swan?” he tried, an equally over-the-top stab at guileless innocence on his face and in those stunning blue eyes, even as she also saw him swallow hard and scratch nervously behind his ear, the one tic he couldn’t seem to rid himself of, no matter how much a dead giveaway it was.

           “I mean,” Emma murmured silkily, eyes narrowing as she leaned in even closer to him, nose almost brushing against his and her breath hot along his collarbone as she practically licked her lips while studying her quarry. Granted, her own pulse had skyrocketed at his close proximity, but she was more pleased to revel in the way her husband squirmed nervously under her hungry gaze.  “You’ve been discovered, Pirate.  Your supplier ratted you out.”

           At that, Killian huffed out a low breath, eyes falling as he gave a slight chuckle and shook his head, having known his wife would eventually get to the bottom of what he had been doing, and almost relieved to have the secret out in the open.  He truly had not meant to gather such and collection of the things anyway, but he simply could not bring himself to say no to the adorable miniature females in their sharp skirt and vest ensembles, and by this point, he was pretty sure they knew it and kept arriving at his doorstep on purpose.  At any rate, Emma might have his head at the amount of money he had pilfered from her and spent needlessly, but surely they would enjoy the spoils, if nothing else.  At length, with a short dip of his head in a resigned nod, Killian answered, “Aye, I figured she might at some point.”

           Emma couldn’t help cracking the tiniest smile, the whole thing so silly, so domestic, so normal, and nothing like the trials they had faced ever since meeting one another and the secrets they once held back for fear of losing the other they had fought so hard to find. She shook her head, leaning in to rest her forehead against his, simply enjoying the warm comfort of his skin on hers and the soft texture of his hair where her fingers had delved in at his nape. “You’re hopeless, Babe… You know that, don’t you?”

           “As you say, Wife,” he agreed good naturedly, his voice low and mumbled against the shell of her ear, making her tremble helplessly to the point of being weak-kneed, the stern composure she’d been trying to hold long gone.

           “Well, let’s see this stash of booty you’ve stored up,” she prodded, curious now just how many boxes of Girl Scout cookies he had managed to amass, and anxious to tease him just a little bit more about how he had been so taken in.

           Sighing with mostly pretended reluctance, Killian took her hand and led her back down the cellar steps behind him, into the once dark room she had not ventured to for some time.  Once there, to her amused shock and surprise, right up against the bars she had once, while possessed by the Darkness, bound Gold as a prisoner, were stacked boxes and boxes of every type cookie the Scouts sold, nearly reaching up to the ceiling. Honestly, there was not much else to do but burst into a fit of helpless giggles, and when she did, leaning into her husband’s side to stay upright, Emma felt his shoulders shaking as he joined in.

           Never again would she had to look at this space and see nothing but lonely dark and a depth of despair and hate.  Unintentional though it might have been, Killian had placed and whole new memory front and center.

           They ended up bagging the cookie in half dozens and giving them out to very happy trick-or-treaters the next week on Halloween night.

           And if they enjoy feeding the remnants of the last couple of boxes to each other in bed… well, that’s their own delicious secret no one else need know.

@lenfaz @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable @kmomof4 @bromfieldhall @drowned-dreamer @flslp87 @spartanguard