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champagne-bucky · 5 years ago

Text

Prescription For... (Just a Touch)

Summary: Steve learns the basics.

Warnings: pre-serum Steve x reader, crude language, masturbation (male and female), dirty thoughts

Notes: Soooo this is kinda late (by like a month or two) but this is kinda my thank you for 1,000 on Tumblr!!! Thank you all so so so much for your support and love towards me and my writings!! Enjoy!!

After Bucky’s interesting visit with Old Man Rogers, he had to go back for more. He honestly did not believe a word his older best friend spoke to him. Was he going senile? Maybe he was lying? Or, maybe he was telling the truth…

“Back for more?” The older gentleman chuckled at the impromptu visit from his childhood friend.

“I just gotta know, are you pulling my leg? Because if you are that was a pretty fucking good gag, Steve,” no matter how many times Steve told Bucky about her, Bucky really thought the old captain was lying to him.

“I assure you, it was all real,” Steve smirked at Bucky and Bucky was a little squeamish at that.

“So, then what else happened between you and her? Did you visit her while you returned the stone? Did you ever keep in touch with her like you did with Peggy? C’mon Steve don’t leave me hanging,” Steve chuckled at his friend.

“All in due time, Buck. Head home now, I’ve gotta take my meds and head to bed,” Bucky gave Steve a hug and pat on the back.

“I’ll be back,” Bucky called out.

“You always do,” Steve responded.

—

Later that night, Steve laid in his bed and dreamed of his woman. The woman before the shield, before the title, before his name. He dreamed of her.

*flashback*

“So, Rogers, them boys been giving you trouble for a while now, huh?” She sat across from the nervous young man while sipping on her drink.

“Just the usual stuff. This always happens to me, ya know,” he responds as he plays with the collar of his shirt.

“You don’t listen to those boys. All they are is scared little boys who got no business picking on a guy like you,” Steve scoffed at that.

“Then why do they always come after me?”

“Depends, your pal Bucky out of town or something?” It did dawn on Steve that whenever Bucky wasn’t around he did get picked on a lot more.

“I don’t like the way they spoke to you today. Sayin’ that you and your momma are,” she shuddered in disgust, “are like that. I find it charming that a man can be that close with his momma,” Steve blushed at that. All his life people would tease and taunt him for being a momma’s boy. Bucky was the same with his mother. However, when there’s a guy as big and buff as he is the guys don’t pick on you as much.

“They’re probably just jealous cause they can’t find any lady around her to screw around with. Probably touch their you know what’s to a peach and imagine a lady attached,” Steve choked on his drink. He never heard a woman speak such vulgarity.

“What?” She looked at him curiously.

“Ya know,” she started doing the motion of a closed fist going up and down.

Steve furrowed his brows in confusion. What was she doing?

“Oh, Oh my gosh! You’ve never…” she trailed off as she looked at Steve’s expression. Poor Steve started to blush out of embarrassment.

“No, no, it’s nothing to be ashamed about. Didn’t you ever learn what that was,” she tried her best to not be crude, but she knew it wasn’t gonna work.

“I’m not following,” poor boy.

“Steve,” she let out a little chuckle, “I’m talking about masterbating. You’ve never heard about that before?” Steve choked back his shocked expression as she whispered the last part.

Of courses he’s heard of that word before. He remembers how his momma sat him down one day and told him that good boys don’t do dirty things like touch their privates. She scarred poor Steve at such a young age about the evils of self pleasure.

“I-I have, I just thought I w-wasn’t supposed to d-do it,” Steve was entirely red at this point.

“Oh, Stevie. My poor poor boy you’re mistaken’,” she shook her head and placed a hand over his. “There’s nothing wrong with touching yourself,” she had confidence that Steve had never seen before, not even in Bucky. “It’s a good thing, a really good thing. It’ll prepare you for later,” she winked as Steve’s eyes blew as wide as the moon.

He forgot about the offer she had made. Oh god, just knowing that made him feel ashamed of himself, he didn’t know anything about masterbating let alone sex. He’s a fraud!

“H-How do I-I do it,” he was looking everywhere except her face.

She smirked and began to tell him the rundown. Steve was baffled by how all this worked. He didn’t know how his mother would feel about this if she ever caught him. Oh god, what if she caught him, Steve thought.

“Listen, just try it, there’s no need to rush or overthink it. However in the event that you do do it,” she smirked and played with the hair at the nape of his neck, “let me know every little detail,” she winked and gave Steve a kiss on the cheek as she left the little diner they were in.

Steve had been nervous all throughout the night when he returned home. Every time his mother asked him a question he would start to get nervous. Thinking that he was starting to come down with something, she abruptly sent him to bed, alone with his thoughts.

Now flash forward to Steve in his room, laid out on his bed, stripped down to nothing but a pair of boxers and his pale little chest heaving up and down in the moonlight. He stared up at the ceiling as he thought. What should turn him on? He laid there for what felt like hours, only it was mere minutes, before his mind wandered back to her.

Did she do this too? Did she lay down in her bed every night and do dirty things to make her feel better? Did she tug her nightgown up to her hips and play down there until she felt euphoric? Would she not wear her undergarments to bed, maybe discard them so they wouldn't feel so dirty?

Oh, so this is how you start, huh? Steve felt himself get harder at the thought of her doing that. Her sweet little nightgown resting above her belly button, undergarments taken neatly off her heating body as her sweet little center starts to slick. She’s featherlight with her touches, she hisses when she applies pressure to her sweet and sensitive breasts.

Quiet moans escape past her beautiful lips as she rubs her thighs together for some relief. That’s not enough to quench the increasingly burning fire. Her one hand leaves its place, pulling and pinching the dusty pink nipple that is way past its usual sensitivity limit.

It’s wet down there, so wet. She feels a light sheen of sweat gloss over her perfect skin. Her fingers make hasty work as she plays, pulls, and rubs the sensitive little nub. Her moans start to get too loud, she has to put her other hand over her mouth to silence them. She fails quickly as she slips a finger in her center, then two. It’s mind blowing, the sweet and slick core pulsing at every rapid movement. No room for teasing tonight, she has to be quick before anyone hears her.

Three fingers, she’s never done this before. It feels so good. Her back arches off the bed ever so slightly out of pleasure. She’s going faster now, so fast she hears little noises coming from down there. It’s so hot. So hot that she can’t take the amount of pleasure anymore. She lets go and it's an amazing feeling. Her bed sheets are soaked as well as her thighs. She’s heavy breathing now as she scrambles to get up.

Her legs are shaking with every movement as she strips her sheets and wipes herself down. The air feels nice and cool against her burning skin. She needed this tonight and she’s glad it happened.

Finally, she changes her sheet and lays back in bed. All cool and rested thinking about the skinny boy who visits her father's pharmacy every day.

Steve is sitting up now, hand around his painfully aching cock. He’s pumping up and down so fast. The precum spilling out the top was enough to coat his big shaft. He’s holding back his grunts with clenched teeth.

It feels good, it’s so good that he needs to stop himself a few times so the pleasure doesn’t end early. He’s starting to make sweet sounds on his glistening member too. His other hand is making a tight grip on the edge of his mattress. He can’t hold on for long, he’s gotta do it.

He lets go. The mess ends up on his chest and dribbles down his abdomen. He’s coated in his own sheen of sweat and he is breathless.

Steve couldn't believe what had just happened. He feels a mix of shame, but not as much as he feels the missing fulfillment of pleasure. This sweet delicacy should’ve been a part of his life way earlier. Screw it, he wants to do it a second time, third time, so many times, but he knows he can’t. He needs some sleep since this activity drained him of all his energy.

He sleeps like a baby for the first time in years. He’s cooled down and feels less stressed. Steve can’t wait to do it again.

Her phone rings a numerous number of times. Her mother yells for her to come near as she says a young gentleman is asking for her. She trudges towards the phone and smirks as she hears her soon to be lover's voice telling her that the deed has been done.

“So you ready to learn more, Rogers?”

257 notes · View notes

hells-sound · 4 years ago

Text

at one point

we are going to facetime and just sit there

doing nothing but working on our portfolios

or go on walks in our respective neighbourhoods

just to say we've been

or go to each others birthday parties

and be obnoxiously loud

and the birthday girl will act all annoyed

but secretly love the fuck out of it

because there's someone there who does stuff like that for them

it will be better when we live together

because then we can do that stuff with physical contact

cuddles on the couch

while we watch some horror movie on netflix

before deciding that

two o clock in the afternoon is too late to be watching any sort of horror

so we'll slip in captain america tfa

the disk because

this is worth the investment, i promise

we won't have to rely on wifi

and coo over pre-serum steve

while we relive our childhoods

for the four hundredth time

baking parties

where we probably made a mess

and you might have powdered sugar on your nose

and there's definitely fruit in my hair

but the kitchen smells delightful

and the old lady next door knocks on the door just to say so

so she gets one of the pies we made

and then we dissolve into giggles because

why can't everyone be as nice as ms dayer

cleaning sessions

where we're singing along to the insanely loud music

blasting songs that don't need to be blasted from the speakers

and we both get wet

but that's fine

the kitchen's clean

and the laundry was going to go in anyway

writing sessions

where we sit in complete silence

while we tap on our keyboards

the laptops are like ten years old

but they have files from highschool

highschool, dan. do you know how much i wrote in high school?

running ideas by each other with enthusiasm because

my publisher said yes and this is gonna be the big break, i can feel it

walks through the city or the town

where we share earbuds to listen to a podcast and

there are young children right across the street

but there's also a bakery

and it'll never taste as good as the things we make together

but you bought it for me

so i enjoy it just as much

visits to a pet shelter

because even though we love loki

he's a bitch

and we just want to surround ourselves with puppies that exude happiness

and maybe we accidentally adopt that small tuxedo kitten who's being bullied

but loki loves bianca and

it's not like we can bring her back now

evening meals

that are always put off until the last possible moment because

the day can't possibly be over now

but it is

so i make the most of it

and cook something that you refuse to believe has broccoli in it

even though you watched me cook the dish

there's no green, e

there can't be broccoli

nights where neither one of us fancies being lonely

or someone had a panic

or a nightmare

so somehow we end up tangled up in a ball of blankets and limbs

i'll wake up to my ungodly alarm

and shove my newly showered hair in your face because

it's time to get your lazy ass up we're going to be late for work

and maybe you tease me for the mickey mouse plush

but i see your captain america

and remind you of book week during sixth year

and i get a face full of pillow

but you're smiling so i know anger is the last thing on your mind

breakfasts

where i might have fed you too much sugar

and you definitely tried to switch our mugs

but i like the smell of coffee

and maybe my sleepy time tea will bring you down from your sugar high before you crash

and we woke up at four in the morning

but we're still rushing out the door

and barely stopping to kiss ms dayer on the cheek

but she packed a lunch for us

so it's only polite that we invite her over for dinner

but we really have to go

thank you so much, ms dayer

we're going to be happy

i can promise you that

and even if it's not me that you find valhalla with

at least it's out there

and you'll know what to expect

because you deserve everything you want

and so much more.

-me

#poems on life #love poem #sort of #poets corner #my poem #original poem #poetry #poems on tumblr #you make me happy #happy days #valhalla #for the future

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cagestark · 5 years ago

Note

Winterspider prompt if you're game! There's a meme about a poor college student being robbed; the robber, upon learning just h o w poor, stopping and giving the (empty) wallet back and being sincerely concerned. "You... you live like this?" What if the winter soldier/bucky barnes breaks into struggling college student Peter parker's apt and all his pre-serum steve instincts are triggered by the state of the place and how /tiny/ Peter is (abo/soulmates/soulmarks/werewolf au for spice up to you)

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

This prompt came into my house and stole my money. This is CHAPTER ONE. Because I was so inspired that I’m officially making this my first multichap fic. I hope this will appease you for now…And I hope you can forgive me for making it winterironspider (I’m a sucker for starker/winteriron so it all just clicked together nicely). Please come back into my inbox and let me know what you think so far.

Warnings in this chapter: graphic descriptions of being poor. Bucky says fuck A LOT. Peter is 24 but Bucky keeps calling him “kid” because he’s so small. Sickness. 4.1k

Bucky can pick a lock in ten seconds flat.

It’s a science: tension wrench goes into the keyhole, the slightest torque is applied, then his favorite pick—the Bogota with three rakes, as of late—goes in and he scrubs the hell out of it until the plug turns. Easy as fucking pie.

The hard part (and he’s not counting the guilt, the horror he would feel if Tony ever discovered how Bucky makes the money he uses to buy his lover trinkets) is scoping out the right apartments. He sticks to NYU residence halls, early mornings and late at nights because the security is usually lax enough to let him through without even checking his ID—if they ask? Oh fuck, I left my wallet in my Uber. Maybe he hasn’t left yet, one sec—and then he’s out of there.

Today, it’s the Lafayette Hall between China Town and TriBeCa, reserved for graduate students seeking their Master’s Degrees in science fields.

It should be empty. On campus is an expo featuring innovators from Sphere Fluidics, Fasmatech, AcouSort, and NanoTemper Technologies which—according to the flier Bucky read online—are huge names in the science industry, all displaying their scientific discoveries from the last business year and scouting for fresh blood.

Any science major worth a shit will be there, he imagines. But it’s mandatory for NYU grad students. Score.

Content that the apartments will more than likely be empty, Bucky chooses the first hit at random after taking the elevator up: apartment 2B. It’s furthest away from the security camera at the other end of the hall—not that Bucky has ever left behind a reason for those cameras to be checked. It’s the principle of the thing, really. He keeps his back turned, hair in his face, both hands gloved (thank God it’s always cold and dreary in NYC, so his gloved hands don’t draw any attention) while he scrubs the lock. It takes him no longer than it might for anyone with a legitimate key, and then the door is open and he is in.

Bucky can see decently in the dark, the light from the hallway disappearing as the door is carefully closed behind him. Holding his breath, he stills himself, calls upon his enhanced senses, and listens: but there are no sounds coming from the apartment. Empty.

Then he actually takes in the place, and he realizes that that word fits in multiple ways.

The apartment is vacant, he thinks at first. There is the basic furniture all the NYU apartments come with: a refrigerator, a couch, a coffee table. But there is no television, no end tables. There are no curtains on the window across the room—and wow, what a lovely view of the brick building across the alley. The entire place smells musty and unused. Maybe it really is empty—

But no. Little signs of life appear. There are shoes by the door, ones that saw better days many, many days ago. On the wall, a photograph is tacked there, unframed, of two boys on either side of a pretty, dark skinned girl. A plastic grocery sack is dangling off of the drawer handle of one kitchen cabinet, sagging with contents that he can’t make out through the opaque plastic.

Someone does live here, they’re just terrible at decorating.

With careful, silent steps, Bucky moves deeper into the apartment. He doesn’t bother looking for a wallet—that will be with the owner—but usually there is money somewhere else. If he’s really lucky, he’ll find whatever he’s looking for.

Today, he wants blank CD’s. Last night, Tony showed him a movie where the teenage love interest burned—(“why’s it called that, Tony? You don’t burn the thing, do you?”)—a CD with love songs. It was real romantic shit; something Bucky never got to do. Something that he longs to do with this amazing man in his life. He can imagine the look on Tony’s face when he listens to a compilation of all the awesome music he’s introduced Bucky to, and it makes his heart race.

The Best Buy downtown sells a pack of five CD’s for $6.99 plus tax which brings the total to $7.61. That’s all that he needs. He could probably take that and more from any one of these apartments and the occupants would never notice. He isn’t hurting anyone. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

Then—jackpot. On the counter is a line of change: neat stacks of quarters and dimes, taller piles of nickels and pennies. Palming it, he cups one hand under the counter and slides the coins home into his hand. A quick count tells him that it’s just $2.30. It’s probably change for the vending machines downstairs, maybe fare for the bus. Nothing that will break this grad student’s bank.

For a moment he contemplates leaving the apartment. He’s almost got a third of what he needs for the CD’s. But breaking into another apartment just escalates the risks he takes, unnecessarily so when the rest of the money could very well be in the bedroom or even in the pocket of some jeans resting on the bathroom floor. No. He’ll press on.

Walking silently, he brings up the floorplan of the apartments in his mind (NYU had all that shit online; didn’t they know how unsafe it was? This world made information so available). The bedroom is on the left, past the kitchen. In the dim light through the window, he can see the door, open, a dark gaping mouth that he slips through soundlessly. It is even darker here, and he stands still waiting for his eyes to adjust further. It’d be no good to go fumbling around in the dark, knocking into furniture.

It only took moments, but as soon as he could make out dim shapes, he heard it. A little whimper. The rustling of sheets. Everything in him went still except for the blood in his veins, propelled by his furiously pounding heart. Someone is here. Bucky broke into an occupied apartment. He is standing in the doorway to a bedroom and there is someone sleeping in the bed.

He gets a glimpse before he can slink back into the living room, and what he sees stops him in his tracks. It is a boy—or a very small man, perhaps, considering these apartments are for graduate students only. The boy is wearing just a pair of boxers, some dark color—red or navy or even black, perhaps, since colors are distorted in this low light—but there is no hiding or distorting how thin he is. The shadows between his ribs are little valleys to the pale, jutting mountains of bone, rising with his fast, shallow breaths. The collarbones protrude, limbs fine-boned and so skinny that Bucky could probably wrap his fingers around an entire ankle or bicep. His face is smushed against one pillow so features are indistinguishable, but the mop of messy curls on top is unmistakable.

There is no bed. There is no bedframe, no mattress, no box spring. A pile of threadbare blankets and sheets are entwined into a makeshift nest, like the kid is some little bird.

After taking in the sights, he takes in the smell. It’s strong—damp and musty, like the windows have never been opened. The pungent scent of sweat. The overly sweet scent of cough syrup, though the two bottles on the nightstand are upended and empty.

Mostly, the acrid smell of sickness. A bucket is beside the bed, and the smell of vomit gets stronger the closer he comes—why is Bucky walking forward? He should be walking away, far, far away.

The boy whimpers again, rolling onto his back more. Sweat coats his skin, and the rapid rise and fall of his chest is even more pronounced in this position, tummy a hollow little thing. This boy is sick, very sick from the smell and the heat that Bucky can feel when he places his hand above the boy’s head, hovering over the skin.

“Ben!” The boy shrieks. Bucky jerks away and nearly topples the trash bin of vomit. His heart is pounding, thinking I’m so sorry Tony, so sorry that I’m going to get caught and get arrested and that you’re the only person in the world I’ll have to call, and if you don’t want to bail me out I’ll understand, I really will—but the boy sleeps on, lips moving. He is dreaming the feverish dreams of the sick.

Carefully, Bucky stands. He backs from the room. On his way out, he takes in more details even if he doesn’t want to: a name-badge for the building and NYU campus (which he takes, which he should have seen on his way in and known that it would be wherever the student was—complacent, he’s gotten too fucking complacent), the silver duct tape on the bottom of the kid’s shoes which holds them together. The past-due notices on the refrigerator. The paper plate resting in the sink, plastic cutlery that has been washed and re-used countless times. The kid is poor. So fucking poor.

And he can’t help that it reminds him of another sickly poor boy from nearly a hundred years ago. He remembers it like it was yesterday, fuzzy memories that Princess Shuri helped turn clear: a thin pale Captain America, the chest-deep coughs that would rattle his whole frame when he was sick, sitting by his best friend’s side through the night just to mop his brow and make sure he didn’t choke on his own sick. His stomach aches, twisting inside out with phantom hunger pains. Stepping into that apartment made him feel like he’d entered a time machine back to the Great Fucking Depression.

Another thought comes: what if the kid needs a fucking ambulance? What if he’s in there, brain frying from his fever? What if he throws up and aspirates? That will be on Bucky. There’s no way that he can walk away from this—not if it could add an(other) life, like a notch, to his murderous bedpost.

Palms sweating, he looks down at the badge he left with. Peter B. Parker. It’s a cute name—Bucky’s always had sort of a thing for alliteration. The picture of the kid is shy with the closed-lip smile and the rampant curls falling onto his forehead. He was skinny to begin with, but not malnourished like he is now. The badge will let him come in through the back doors. Because apparently he is planning on coming back.

Bucky pulls out his cellphone, mostly unused, and makes a call. While he talks, he takes the stairs down so that he doesn’t lose the call in the elevator.

Tony picks up on the second ring. “Hey Bucky, everything alright?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” In the background he can hear the sound of a door closing, and Tony’s voice grows more familiar, softer and more comfortable. He must have been around company but left.

“You only ever call if you’re about to break the law,” Tony says fondly.

Is he really so predictable? Well, in this case, he’s already broken the law, though that’s hardly a point that he wants to make. “No. it’s—nothing like that. I was just wondering about the credit card you gave me.”

“Oh? Thinking about blowing the dust off it?”

“Yeah,” Bucky mutters. He hates it—hates being like the other million people in Tony’s life who just take his money. The fear that this man who has helped Bucky salvage himself, salvage the will to live life, to carve out a life he wants to live…the fear that he’ll think Bucky is just with him for the money is unconquerable. Tony gave him the leather wallet and the credit card years ago, and Bucky has never once used it. “Just a bit. Twenty dollars. Thirty at the most, Tony, and I swear I’ll pay you back—”

“Hey, hey, no need for the freaking out. Mi dinero es su dinero, polar bear. Buy whatever you need.” He pauses. “Are you in any trouble? I don’t know if you need me to emphasize this, but there’s probably no trouble you can imagine that I can’t get a person out of.”

“I’m not in trouble,” he says, hoping Tony doesn’t notice the unconscious inflection on the word I’m. “But I’ll remember that. I promise.”

“Okay. Great. That’s all I need to hear. Thai, tonight?”

Bucky can’t help but smile. He pushes open the back door to the building and steps out into the street, angling his face away from the security camera at the alley entrance on instinct. The wind is blistery, whipping his hair around his face. “I’ll be there.”

Tony hums. “I can hardly wait.”

They exchange declarations of love and say goodbye. Bucky feels a little choked up, how he always feels after hearing Tony say that he loves him. His eyes sting—but that’s just the wind. Honest. Down the street is a pharmacy and Bucky ducks in, head down. There’s an entire aisle for cold medicines, and he takes far too long examining all the bottles. Thank God there are ones that seem to treat everything: headaches, fever, nausea, cough. Everything except for the kid’s destitution.

He sees the chicken noodle soup and he grabs some of that as well.

Checking out is awkward; Bucky slides the card upside down at first. Then he’s unsure: credit or debit? He clicks credit since it’s first, but then he has to sign and he has a new dilemma. Should he forge Tony’s signature or put down his own? The card has his name on it, but it’s Tony’s money. In the end, he writes his own name. Forging feels too…familiar.

With less than twenty dollars spent, he trudges back down the block to the apartment building, and it isn’t until he’s swiping the key to get into the back door that he realizes he has no fucking idea what he’s going to do. Knock on the kid’s door? Hey, I broke in earlier and saw you were sick and out of medicine, here’s some. I’ll put the change I stole back on the counter. Sorry to fucking bother you?

Bucky Barnes, former assassin for Hydra, absolute dumbass.

Absolute persistent dumbass. Because he knocks on the door. He really fucking does. And when no one answers, he knocks again and again until he hears movement on the other side of the door (a chest-rattling cough that makes him shudder) then the door is cracked open and a bloodshot, honey-brown eye is staring out at him.

“Hi,” Peter croaks. His voice is wrecked, and it immediately does things to Bucky. Things that are wrong, especially considering that his voice isn’t croaky because of a cock nudging too persistently at the back of his throat, but because he is fucking sick. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to help you,” Bucky says. Peter’s eyebrows furrow. It’s cute. He’s wearing a shirt that is far too large for him, and pajama pants so long they slip down past the backs of his heels. “I’m—visiting one of your neighbors down the hall. You’re keeping everyone up with your cough, kid. I brought you some medicine.”

Peter opens the door wider, so that Bucky is seeing all of him instead of just a two-inch section. He rests against the doorframe because he’s swaying, struggling to keep on his feet, and he is so tiny, so, so tiny. The smell of him is foul, but Bucky would never mention it. “Gosh,” Peter says, and Bucky is horrified to see tears, real fucking tears fill his eyes. “I didn’t know I was keepin’ everybody up.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Bucky says. People say that, sometimes, to horses that are likely to buck off their rider or men who pull out guns in gas stations. Bucky figures that he should probably use either of those situations as reference for what to do now, because how to comfort a crying kid was not in the Winter Soldier’s repertoire. “Don’t shoot.” Fuck. Try again. “I mean—it’s not your fault. You’re sick. Obviously.”

Fat tears roll down Peter’s cheeks. It impedes his breathing even more, until Bucky is afraid that he’s going to choke on his own phlegm. When he speaks, he tries to keep his voice even and clear through his hitching breaths. The shirt slips off his shoulder, bones protruding. “I-I-I know. It hit m-me a-all of the sudden. But now it won’t go away.”

“Have you tried going to the doctor?”

Peter’s smile is downright tragic. He looks like he wants to reach out and pat Bucky on the cheek, call him a sweet summer child, ask him what pipe he smoked to have such a dream. “I d-don’t have insurance. I’m still trying to p-pay off my debt from last year when I had my tonsils removed.”

“And they—what—they won’t treat you? Just because you needed treating once before? They’re fucking doctors!”

“I know,” Peter whines, rubbing a wrist at his leaking nose. The door opens even wider. “Would you like to come in?”

Bucky sees the irony. He really does. A half hour ago, he was in this apartment robbing the kid. Now he’s standing at the kitchen counter watching Peter make ramen noodles (“my aunt always said that when someone is in your house, you should treat them like they live there”). He nearly burns his hand on the pan, and that’s when Bucky moves to take over, stirring when appropriate, adding a packet of flavoring. Peter pulls one bowl down from the cabinet—the cabinet that is unbearably empty from the quick glimpse Bucky gets of it.

“I only have one bowl, I’m sorry,” Peter says, face red, eyes downcast. His hands shake while he ladles the soup and noodles in. He gives Bucky one of the plastic spoons—it’s clean, he knows—but the whole thing is so fucking sad. When Peter glances over the counter, muttering something about some missing rent money, that’s it. That’s it for Bucky.

I’m taking him home with me, he thinks, nudging his spoon against the noodles in his bowl.

“I’m Peter, by the way,” the kid introduces himself. Then his face goes white, shaking intensifies. “Excuse me.”

Bucky hears him vomiting even through the walls between them. There isn’t much to come up, but the retching lasts forever it seems, the boy dissolving back into tears. Instinct says to go to him, but Bucky doesn’t want to be anymore of a fucking creep than he already is. When the vomiting turns to coughing and then to gasping, Bucky decides fuck it. He is a fucking creep. But he’s not going to let the kid pass out and crack open his head.

Peter is in the bathroom, bowed over the toilet, curls matting to his forehead with his fever. Bucky goes through drawers until he finds a washcloth and wets it from the sink, the water stinking of iron, to at least dab at the back of the kid’s neck. He shivers, but sighs into it, his wheezing breaths slowing.

When at last he leans back, his cheeks are red and wet. “Thanks,” he croaks. Bucky just mops at his forehead, avoiding the comical look of relief and pleasure on his face.

“You need a doctor.”

“Can’t afford it,” Peter mutters, reaching out to flush the toilet. Bucky practically carries him back to the kitchen-living room combo, setting him down on the threadbare couch.

“I’ll pay,” Bucky says. Then he winces—because it isn’t really his money. It’s Tony’s money. How can he just promise Tony’s money to this kid? But he can pay Tony back. No matter how long it takes or how hard he has to work. He’s got decades and decades left to live. He’ll spend them all trying to repay Tony’s kindness and love as it is. What is this one extra debt?

“What?” Peter asks, his eyes glassy with fever. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“A trip to the doctor costs hundreds of dollars, not to mention if I’m really sick, I’ll need medicine which will cost even more. I’m not taking that kind of money from you.”

“I’m rich,” he half-lies.

Peter looks him up and down, the worn boots, the soft but unremarkable jeans, the gloves that he’s still wearing even though they are indoors. While he doesn’t look destitute, the idea comes across loud and clear: Bucky sure doesn’t fucking look rich.

He sighs. “Fine. It’s my boyfriend. He’s rich.”

“You want me to take your boyfriend’s money? I’m—what? I don’t know you. I don’t even know your name.”

“My name is Bucky,” says Bucky. “And my boyfriend is Tony Stark.”

Peter’s mouth clicks shut. His eyes clear a little, the name cutting through the sickness. “Tony Stark.”

“Yeah.”

“The billionaire.”

Bucky can feel himself smile against his will. “Genius, billionaire, philanthropist, superhero. Yeah, he’s the one.”

Peter reaches out and puts his burning hand against Bucky’s forehead. “Maybe you’re the one who is sick,” he teases weakly.

“I’m serious,” Bucky says. He pulls out his phone and Googles it—hopes the kid doesn’t see the tab of Lafayette Hall dorm room floor plans that was previously open. Then he brings up the tabloids. He and Tony aren’t in the news as often as they were years ago when they first started leaving the Tower together to do couple-things, but the articles last forever. There’s a nice one detailing all about Tony’s promiscuous love life, how everyone thought the bisexual ways of his youth were just a phase. Until Bucky.

The pictures are clear. Peter’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “You’re dating Tony Stark. Oh my god. I’m—I’m his biggest fan. Oh my god. I think I’m going to pass out. I’ve—” the kid goes red as a beet, “I’ve had a crush on him since I was like, like this tall.”

Judging by the height of his hand when he holds it up, Peter’s been harboring his crush on Tony since ever. And yeah, Bucky gets it. His lips can’t help but quirk upwards—Peter is so fucking cute, even with he way his cheeks are hollow, eyes sunken. He lights up when he talks about Tony. Bucky is the same way. Tony inspires that in people.

“I’ll pay for you to go to the doctor. See? I can afford it.”

Peter gnaws at his lower lip. “But why? I don’t get it. Because I’m keeping everyone on the floor up? That doesn’t—this is weird.”

“Because you remind me of someone I used to know. My best friend, from when I was a kid. He’s—he’s not around now. But you two would have gotten along well, I think. And he would’ve kicked me in the ass if he knew I just walked away when I knew you need help.” He can see the indecision on the kid’s face, the wavering teeter-totter of what he wants to say (yes yes yes) versus what he thinks he should say (no, but thank you). Bucky has an ace up his sleeve: “Why don’t you come back to the Tower with me? Meet Tony. He’ll tell you all this himself.”

“I couldn’t!” Peter nearly shrieks. He coughs, and Bucky waits patiently for him to finish.

“You could. You totally could. You will. I’ll call a car—”

“Oh my god,” Peter whispers under his breath, his whole tiny body going lax and weak like a woman from Victorian times, likely to swoon at any moment. Where are Bucky’s smelling salts? “Oh my god,” he says, soft and to himself. “I’m going to meet Tony Stark.”

Bucky can’t help it. He grins, pats awkwardly at the kid’s shoulder—and Jesus, he’s a tiny little thing, still burning up under Bucky’s grip. “He’s going to be thrilled to meet you.”

Peter insists on showering and changing his clothes. Bucky steps out into the hallway to call Tony back and warn him—and ask him to send Happy or one of the self-driving cars. Anything to avoid taking a cab or the subway.

“Twice in one day,” Tony says when he picks up the phone, forgoing a greeting. “Aren’t I a lucky man?”

“I’m the lucky man, ‘s far as I can tell,” Bucky says lowly. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine Tony’s expression, the ridiculous fond face he makes when he looks at Bucky. “I had a favor to ask of you, though. A big one.”

“Anything for you, frosted flake.”

“Send a car to the address that I text you? And—order Thai for three?”

#winterironspider #starker #multichap #chapter one #bucky breaks in #peter is sick #tony is tony #tw: poor #tw: sickness #winterspider #cagewrites

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starrystellars · 6 years ago

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land of gods and monsters | chapter one

summary: steve's life gets turned upside-down when he meets a mysterious woman on a dark alley, right after getting beaten up to the ground. after dramatic events, he gets tangled up into a web of criminals, drugs and life-changing events. pre-serum!steve x mob!reader

warnings: language, violence, overall dark stuff. painfully long descriptive writing.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: hey!! the first chapter is finally here; sorry for the wait folks. life has been interesting for a while and i only now could come back to writing like i used to. sorry for bad spelling and spacing, i have no beta reader and i wrote this in a splurge of inspiration. sorry for the lack of action in this chapter; i promise shit is going down in the next one lmao :D well, enjoy my loves!! ps. remember to check out the prequel! u can also ask to be on my taglist!!

PREQUEL

1936

It had been a miracle. The police officers had found him lying in a deep puddle of dirt, white skin vividly purple under the glimmering street lights. Fragile features of the boy had almost made outlookers think he had already passed to the other side, probably for days at a time, if the police officers hadn't found a faint heartbeat from the sickly body that was lying on their hands. Blue-tinted lips, and skin so transparent you could've seen the veins dancing underneath it, almost got the best officer on the team fooled, and no wonder. It was almost impossible for the boy to be alive in such rough conditions, but there was something in him, that wanted desperately to stay alive; a will so strong that not even a higher power could rip it away.

It had taken a good two days in the recovery wing for the blonde boy to finally come back to his senses. The hit on his head was so bad that the nurses had actually expected him not to even remember what happened, nor to be able to function like a normal person for at least a good while. However, the little fighter had proved himself wrong the second he stopped staring at his eyelids, almost jumping up on his feet with a loud gasp that escaped between his blue tinted lips. With a fractured jaw and a broken nose, he looked like an absolute mess, but was more than good to stand up, and get back home after those crucial days inside of the sterilized walls. On the outside, he tried to give all the worried nurses a weak smile, blushing just a bit from all the attention he was getting, but in reality he just desperately wanted to hide from the curious eyes that were assigned to look after him. He really wasn't ready to accept the help -- nor he could actually afford it for that matter. The Great Depression had affected his family, just like every other ol' American household, and after the better half of his parents had died, it was almost impossible to keep up with everything he had to pay for. Being a complete idiot was not a good thing to add on the long list of already existing loans, and he was completely aware of that. However, he couldn't help but to follow his heart, that always led him on to dangerous situations, as he tried to save others from all the evil in the world.

The whole way back to Brooklyn was dreadful at best. A limp and a bunch of broken bones didn't ease his way, and for the first time ever, Steve thought he would get caught while sneaking into the creaking subway of the New York City. Most of the times, he and his best friend, Bucky, were quick enough to run into the cars without being noticed, but this time, a complete wreck of a boy got more curious eyes than he had wished. It took all of his willpower not to wince every step he took, while trying not to lean too much on any of his limbs, just to avoid crashing onto the ground and start crying like a child. It didn't help at all, that he was desperately out of his mind, trying to go through the flashing memories of the night he had passed out on that alley. The warmth that flushed on his pale cheeks every single time he thought about the woman, and her soft gaze, was distracting at best, but still couldn't take away the physical pain that he was enduring the whole subway-ride. After an hour of gruesome traveling, he found himself staring, with relieved eyes, at the tall, wooden, stairs that looked like a passage to heaven. Bright rays of the early morning sun were almost blinding him, as the gaze of his blue irises tried their best to adjust for the dusty air, clearly calculating would climbing up to the apartment be a good idea after all. "Steve! Where the hell have you been?" A familiar voice made the boy turn around automatically, ocean blue eyes instantly locking with the brown orbs of his very best friend. The usual playful smirk, that always was loosely hanging on Bucky's lips, had changed into a worried frown, as he was trying to come up with a collective question to get some information about what had happened. He was clearly stressed, running fingers through his neatly slicked back hair, looking his best friend up and down. "I tried to search for you everywhere," Bucky almost groaned, tilting his head to the side just slightly, as he took another step closer. "You don't even know how stressed out ma has been, when you didn't show up for dinner two days ago." Steve couldn't help but to let out a deep sigh, lowering his gaze to the ground like an abused puppy. His head couldn't comprehend anything, even though he was for sure that nothing was, per say, wrong to begin with. The memories from the night he got beaten up to the curb were blurry, and Steve wasn't even sure how he ended up in a situation like that. It was unusual that the only clear image he had in his mind was of the mysterious woman, who somehow had given him more hope than anyone else before. Maybe he was just starstruck. "Look, there's not too much to say," Steve mumbled under his breath, the sound hitching in his throat from all the dryness. It was almost unnatural to speak, after so long for being silent, and he immediately regretted being weak in front of Bucky. Even when Steve knew that his best friend wouldn't judge, nor pressure, him about anything, he hated to feel pitied and belittled. It had always been like that, no matter what the circumstance. Slightly shaking his head, Steve turned to face the stairs of faith once again, taking a first step away from his best friend with a mind that was running ten laps a second. He could physically feel Bucky's stare burn a hole on his back, but at that point he didn't give a time for the thought, as he kept on climbing up. Bucky, on the other hand, stood on his ground, watching how his best friend tried to play off his weaknesses, almost tripping over on his feet while clearly wincing in pain every step he took. Over the years, he had learnt to know Steve to be pretty stubborn, sometimes painfully so, but the injuries were way too much this time to be unnoticed. Usually Bucky tried his best to let his lifelong friend to be, because he knew that acting out was something he loved to do and even had to do to keep up those high emotional walls. This time, he just couldn't stand to watch him almost fall apart in front of him like that. "C'mon now," Bucky let out a deep sigh, as he decided to catch up on the smaller boy. He had to almost take hold of Steve, as soon they both reached the top of the stairs, since it highly looked like the blonde boy was about to fall backwards and break his neck. "Listen, maybe I could stay the night? I stole one of those magazines with comic strips on them, and I think the new series is something you'd like. We can just have fun and not talk, if that's what you want?" Steve couldn't help but to admire his friend’s determination, but it still felt bad having to be babied like that. It had been extremely hard for Steve to accept help after his mother had passed, even though he knew that the Barnes family just wanted the best for him. Sometimes it was just way too hard to accept that things were going bad -- especially since Steve knew how hard the times were for his best friends' family too. Without a word to his best friend, Steve opened the door to the dim apartment, stepping inside to his own lonely bubble. Right after the door shut with a bang, he allowed his weak body to slide down onto the floor with a soft whimper. The once warm and welcoming apartment had turned into a trap; cold and moldy, old memories hanging dangerously fragile on the peeling wallpaper. A once beautiful atmosphere was ruined and ripped to pieces, and Steve couldn't help but to think how much it would take to build it up again. As those blue orbs of his were covered, once again, by heavy eyelids, he couldn't help but to wonder how could the room around him be so chilly during such a warm spring day. ///// It had taken a long time to get used to living alone. After years of looking after his mother, her passing had left a human-sized void inside of his fragile heart. Maybe he should've anticipated her passing; she was a nurse after all, working in such conditions that were hard for even grown men to comprehend. The woman was a superhero in Steve's eyes, and he had always looked up to his dear mother- she could do no wrong. She had taught Steve everything; how to survive in a big city and how to take care of the house, but most importantly, she had taught him all the morals he needed. It was one of the many reasons why he had the urge to help everyone, and fight for justice, and so many times his late mother had joked that he'd make a good police officer in the future. Except it was physically impossible. His ongoing sickness, and all the weaknesses that came with it, had always been sort of belittled in the Rogers family, since Steve's mother had desperately tried to teach her son that a physical form didn't matter too much. It was the personality that made a person worthy, and it was something to always keep in mind. However, in Steve's case, he was constantly struggling with fever and other illnesses, and most of the doctors had claimed he wouldn't see his twentieth birthday, breaking the spirit of a young man. One of the hardest things that he had to do while getting accustomed to his new lifestyle, had to be getting along with daily tasks. Yes, Steve was helpful and always there for his mother, but she basically ran the household, so he had barely actually learned any practical things. Every single day she had made sure that her son had something to eat, and somehow kept the apartment clean no matter what. Even after getting sick, she still tried to tidy up her surroundings to make the house more presentable, not listening to Steve's complaints about how she should've gotten some rest. After getting used to that kind of treatment, it was hard to manage for himself, and even going to the store was a job on its own. Somehow he needed to mentally prepare himself, counting all the coins just in case he would accidentally live over his limits, going through the shopping list at least ten times just in case he wouldn't forget anything. This time was no exception -- he did all in his willpower to make everything as complicated as possible, only stepping out of his apartment when he had made sure that he would not forget that thin piece of paper on the kitchen counter. The breezy air against his pale skin was refreshing, since after bumping into Bucky, he hadn't gotten much fresh air. Still feeling a bit dizzy and weak from the hospital trip, he had decided that it was best to just stay hidden for a while, and not take any of the pity. At the back of his mind, Steve had decided to avoid his best friend just enough to get some space. Even when he cared about Bucky a lot, he needed to take a step back just every once in a while. Inseparable or not. The dusty morning air made Steve cough just a little, as he stepped down the crowded road towards the market hall. The allergy season was catching up, and he could already feel his asthma starting to act up, once again. The dirty New York air was one of the worst things that he could think about for his condition, but even if he was given the choice, he wouldn't have moved anywhere else. Home was always home. He desperately needed to be surrounded by something familiar, no matter what, as if it was the only thing that gave him some form of stability and safety. Somehow, the dirty streets and noisy people had became part of his life, did he enjoy it or not. Hazy atmosphere of the city had captivated Steve's attention fully, as he squinted to look up at the tall buildings, and all the people he could see hanging around on their balconies. It was something he really loved to do; to study people during their everyday tasks, trying to save the memories on his retinas for later as a reference for his art. Playing with colours and shapes was always something that he loved to do, and art really was close to his beating heart. Even when he knew that all the sketches he had done were not the best ones in the world, he still enjoyed it and considered getting a job on that field some beautiful day. Lost in his daydreams, Steve was completely unaware of the situation around him. He was truly blind to the fact, that people were moving away from something, that was moving quickly amongst the people, trying to shove everyone off their way. The blonde boy didn't seem to hear how a mass of people mutually groaned at this person, who was either running away from something or just really late from an important task. Unfortunately, thanks to Steve's incapability to be aware of his surroundings, he soon felt like bumping into something, or someone, that sent him flying backwards on the pavement. The boy groaned in pain, body still on fire from his recovery process, as he felt someone lean over his very useless body. He tried to squint, as the sun was almost burning his eyes off, but all he could see was a figure that belonged to a woman. Oh god, of course. Steve wasn't known to be good with women; especially when it came down to awkward situations, and to be so close to a girl who literally ran into him, was one of the most embarrassing situations of his life. Yes, he had went on dates when Bucky had literally forced him into doing so, and all of them ended up tragically, but colliding into a girl and falling down? What was he going to do. "Oh my lord, I'm so sorry," an apologizing yelp was let out in the air by the girl, who had kneeled next to the boy with a concerned look on her face. It was still hard to see for Steve, who tried his best to avoid the sunshine that was almost bullying his eyes, but only the sound of her was enough to get Steve baffled. He knew her. For some reason, Steve found her face familiar as ever; like she had appeared in a dream long forgotten somewhere in the past. Even when it was almost impossible to place the pieces together in his spinning head, the soft touch of the girl's hand against his own sparked up a memory that was pushed way back in his head. As the boy dusted himself off and raised his gaze, the realization hit him right across the face like a lightening. He couldn't believe who was standing right in front of him, as Steve took a better look at the girl's delicate features. It was her. After days of wondering was all he saw just a big fever dream, he finally got to understand that it wasn't just some reflection he had seen while lying half-dead with a severe concussion. The situation was so completely out of place, that Steve couldn't help but stare at the girl right in front of him with big eyes, forgetting completely that they were on a public space. It could've been considered rude, but his clear confusion was just way too adorable to count as a stalkerish action. He just couldn't stop himself from studying her clearly strong aura, the soft curve on her lips, and the way her eyes were filled with life. She was radiating with such energy, that Steve couldn't still believe she was true. "Are you okay?" The girl asked, looking fairly concerned, as she gently placed her hands on both of his forearms. Steve couldn't help but to automatically flinch at this action, it being rather an open gesture, and he clearly wasn't used to that. With an apology, the girl quickly retrieved her hands to herself, clearly taken aback of her own actions, as she clearly looked phased. Steve couldn't do much more than to nod at her question, clearly making the girl ease up a little, as she tilted her head to the side with a smirk playing on her painted lips. "Good, amazing. Wonderful," the tone those words slipped out from the girls lips made Steve's eyebrows grow together, as he watched how the lady in front of him was looking over her shoulder. The concerning look on her face was telling a lot, but the boy wasn't really following. He was mesmerized by the girl, who had already stolen his heart and ran away with it a long time ago. "M-ma'am, is there something wrong?" It was hard for Steve to form a courage to let out the words, and he even had to cough a little to get his voice to be heard, but the girl didn't seem to care about it. She looked unphased as ever, giving the boy a slight smile, before peeking over the boy's shoulder, a playful smirk growing more visible on her face. It was like she saw something amusing, but there was something in her eyes that messaged that something wasn't right. "I, uhh.. I'd like to chat, but I really gotta run," she flashed a clear fake smile at the boy, gaze blinking under the blinding rays of the sun, without breaking eye-contact with the skinny boy right in front of her. "Take care."

The last words were left lingering in the air, sweet as honey, and as soft as a blowing wind on a sunkissed meadow. Steve could feel the touch of her fingers still holding onto his shaky arms, as he turned to gaze at her quick disappearance, way too late for her light-speed run. It was like she vanished into thin air, leaving only desperation behind. Heavy voices of all the people on the street almost crawled into his ear, as he realised the world around him had continued to live again, after such disturbance. Before turning around, baffled as ever, he noticed something bulky at the end of his feet; sticking out like it was the seventh wonder of the world. Blue eyes sparkled with curiosity, as he lowered down to pick up a brown suitcase, color already chipping off from the sides of its molded form. It was actually a slight struggle for him to pick up something heavy like that, grunting painfully at the action that caused his old wounds to ache. Squinting his eyes, Steve realised something green peeking between a slot of the case, but before he could realise what was going on, he heard a loud yell behind his small form. "Lower the case and put your hands up!" The sound startled Steve, who turned around, just in time to catch the gun that was firmly pointed at him from a safe distance. Messy, blonde locks, were covering his view just enough, but he could see the officer's strict face eyeing him up and down. The moment felt heavy. A wrong move and he would be cold on the ground. That's when he dropped the case. His whole life slowed down, like a film that was dragging along the player incorrectly. Voices and pictures were blurring together, as he could feel his heart pounding in his chest so hard it could’ve probably physically broke him. The police officers let out a unison indecipherable yell, that Steve couldn't catch up on, as an older officer literally leaped over to him, ready to detain him with clear force. Right before his head came in contact with the ground, Steve could finally realise why he was tackled to the ground, helpless and without a question. Somehow, he didn't register what had happened when he accidentally let go of the luggage in his hands, but it was way worse than he had originally wondered. It was double the times worse. You see, he could have never guessed that he'd find himself standing in a pile of freshly pressed dollars, little to no information whose money it actually was. Steve was framed, and there was nothing he could do about the fact how guilty he looked like, standing there like a deer in the headlights. The police had little to no interest in listening to his soft whimpers, as they pulled back his arms to cuff his thin wrists behind Steve's back. His small form was nothing against the literal force of three separate cops, who casually held him on his stomach, as he tried to squirm away like a worm, only scratching new holes onto his beige coat. Just as his head was being shoved against the rough pavement by one of the police, he realised what was going on. It literally hit him.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #mcu reader insert #marvel reader insert #avengers reader insert #steve rogers #captain america #pre serum steve x reader #mcu imagine #jennie writes

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chantelle-x0x · 6 years ago

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When The Time Comes - Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

A/N: This took a very long time and I’m very sorry that it took this long! It was a request and I thoroughly enjoyed writing this for @ehkw1989. Thank you very much for the request and for your wonderful patience, I hope you enjoy. Tags are at the bottom x (Side note, I put the cut at the start because it is a kissing gif so maybe some people aren’t comfortable with it?)

Disclaimer: **All characters besides Reader, belongs to Marvel (MCU)**

Word count: 1,933

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader/Platonic!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

MCU Characters: Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes

Rating: General

Warnings: None

Request/Prompt: Hi! Could you please write a fix about pre-serum Steve x reader using prompt "I thought you were better than this." Thank you so much!

Summery: You have liked Steve, for a long time now actually, but when he gets a girlfriend, you become distant. But what happens when you see him and her together after not seeing him for 3 weeks?

If you’d like to be part of my permanent Marvel tag list or an individual character tag list, let me know!

My blog has the links to my Masterlist, Fic Request Guidlines and Prompts and my AO3.

The song used in this is called ‘Nobody’ By Judy Garland from 1940. Listen to it if you want to get the idea of the song used here x

(Gif isn’t mine, credit to owner)

‘Miss Y/L/N!’ The man behind the counter of your local grocery store greeted you with a smile. Sunday was when you went all out for dinner. You and Steve would buy the items needed for a beautiful and special meal.

‘Hey, Edward! How are you today?’ You replied cheerily.

‘I’m doing alright, thank you. How are you doing?’ He asked, putting down his paper.

‘I’m doing well today. Did Margaret like the cookies from last week?’ You had baked cookies for Edward and his wife Margaret to thank them for their generosity. You weren’t a person who earned very much, so you occasionally worked there, but they always gave you the items you needed with the money you had, even if you didn’t help them that week.

‘She loved them, had them with her tea throughout the week. I only got one actually. She really adores your baking.’ You laughed.

‘I’ll be sure to try and get you some more soon.’ You turned around taking your fabric bag and started to put vegetables in.

‘Where’s your little friend today?’ Edward asked you.

‘He’s with Bucky. They’re applying for the army.’ You smiled as you replied with confidence.

‘That would take a lot for Steven. He’s a little…sick.’ You chuckled.

‘He’s not a little sick, he’s a lot sick. I mean, I get worried about him but he’s old enough to make his own decisions. Even if they’re bad ones.’ You sighed, rolling your eyes. You walked up to the front and paid for your groceries before leaving with a goodbye. You knocked on Steve’s door, it took a little before he opened the door.

‘Oh, hey Y/N.’ He greeted you. You smiled and replied with a ‘hi’ of your own before going inside his apartment.

‘Just get up?’ You ask him, setting your bags down on the kitchen countertop.

‘Yeah. Buck and me went out last night and didn’t get back home ‘till late.’ He replied, taking a sip of water from his bottle.

‘I thought you were going to have an early night since we were supposed to spend the day cooking together.’ Steve rubbed the back of his neck and went a light red.

‘I uh, I got a little distracted. Bucky’s girl brought along a friend last night that actually took a liking towards me so we stayed out later than we were supposed to.’ You couldn’t help the jealousy that started coursing through you. You truly hated the thought of Steve being happy with someone who didn’t appreciate him for who he is; call it selfish but you loved him and couldn’t help the feeling. Though, instead of showing how you really felt, you took advantage of how oblivious Steve could be and masked your feelings.

‘I’m glad you had fun. I um, I don’t want to disrupt your day though, so I’ll be leaving now.’ You smiled softly before turning around.

‘Y/N, wait!’ You turned around to face your friend again. ‘Maybe we can cook together tomorrow?’ You sighed before nodding your head.

‘Tomorrow.’ You agreed before leaving through his door. You walked to your apartment and after placing your go-to sad record on the gramophone, you turned up the volume, louder than you usually did. You hummed along with the song and sang to the chorus while making yourself a meal. Steve wasn’t yours to have, but hopefully, things would go back to normal; the woman wouldn’t want him anymore and you’d have him. You’d have to toughen up and tell him you liked him if that happened.

The next few weeks were lonely for you. You baked constantly and gave Edward baskets of goods every week; three baskets. At least he was getting some now, you would think every time you went to the store.

You bumped into Bucky on a walk in the park, and he looked quite tired. ‘Hello, Bucky.’ You said trying to keep your voice steady; you at least thought that Bucky would be there for you, but he hadn’t been.

‘Oh hey Y/N.’ He said smiling at you.

‘What are you doing here? You don’t usually walk around alone.’ You asked raising an eyebrow.

‘I was actually on my way to see you. Stevie and I are gonna make dinner t’night so I wonderin’ if you wanted to swing by and have dinner with us.’ You smiled at your friend, you couldn’t be mad at him.

‘I’ll come.’

‘Great! Wanna walk there now? Together?’ He asked. You thought about saying no, but neither of you would get anything out of waiting longer.

‘Sure.’ You replied shrugging. The walk to their apartment was comfortably silent and you didn't mind that. You'd rather he not ask you about how you've been doing, because truthfully, you'd been better. As you arrived, Bucky unlocked the door and let you in first.

'I haven't done very much here since you last came over, so it's pretty much same old.' You smiled as you put your bag down on the floor next to the door. As you round the corner into the living room, you saw a stunning blonde haired woman and Steve next to her.

'Hi, I'm Y/N.' You waved at her and you could see the way she judged you.

‘I'm Ava.’ She commented, linking her arms around Steve’s right arm. You simply said a sweet hello to Steve before going into the kitchen with Bucky.

‘She’s been around for a while.’ You said out loud to your dark haired friend.

‘Yeah, she’s pretty nice. And Steve really likes her, so I guess it’s okay.’ You cocked your head as you leaned against the counter.

‘Pretty nice and guess she’s okay? Someone hasn’t gotten the Bucky code of approval.’ You said smirking.

‘She’s not that bad it’s just, there are times I catch her looking at other men with a longing in her eyes. It makes me want to protect Steve, but he’s an adult and can make his own choices.’

‘It’s okay to be protective of him Buck, but you’re right, he’s an adult and if he likes her, we have to accept that.’ You tried to get your Bucky to smile with that, but it was obvious it didn’t work. ‘C’mon James, lighten up. We have a wonderful meal prepared by you, great music since I know you have it somewhere here, and even though one of the guests here isn’t awesome, I’m here.’ Bucky laughed at that along with you before you headed into the living room with the hot food.

‘Finally!’ Ava commented when you both entered the room, which made Bucky grumble under his breath.

‘Smells good Buck.’ Steve said with his arm wrapped around his girlfriend. You agreed with him and took a seat next to Bucky. Dinner passed with chatter between the four of you, but you couldn’t help your glances at Steve. His hair was a little more tousled than you’d last seen and he looked way less tense than you had ever seen. Maybe Ava was good for him, you thought. You didn’t notice how Steve kept stealing glances at you whenever you laughed at dinner though. You also lacked notice in how he smiled every time you smiled.

‘I’ll clean up James.’ You said to Bucky.

‘I’ll help.’ Steve chimed in. You nodded with a smile before picking up the plates and heading to the kitchen.

‘I like Ava.’ You casually commented as you were standing next to Steve near the sink.

‘That means a lot.’ You looked at him in question as you started to scrub another plate. ‘I mean, it wouldn't have felt right if you didn’t like her, so it’s good that you do.’

‘Mmm-hmm.’ You replied looking at the plate in your hands.

‘I have to say, it’s been really quiet without you here every day.’

‘Yeah, well, I have my reasons.’ You whispered, hoping it wasn’t audible to Steve. Unfortunately though, it was.

‘And what were they?’ He asked as you handed him the now clean plate.

‘It doesn’t matter Steve.’ You tried, but he didn't let it go easily.

‘It does to me, so what was your reason?’ You didn’t dare look at him when you said the words you knew you’d never be able to take back.

‘I like you Steve, but like in a more than friends way. I know you have a girlfriend, and I really don’t want to ruin what you and she have because you really do like her and she really likes you. I just have to suck it up because you really shouldn’t be kept from having a really full life with someone as wonderful as her.’ You leaned on the counter, your eyes darting to the floor. You only noticed that Steve was in front of you when there was a shadow towering over you. Your face was only looking up because Steve’s gentle touch was lifting your chin.

‘I like you like that too. And I do like Ava, but I think it was more due to the fact that I thought no one else liked me.’

‘You’re really blind if you thought I didn’t Steven.’ He laughed along with you. Your eyes catch his and you can’t help your next movement. You lean into him and place a gentle kiss on his lips. It only lasted a second and when you pulled back, you definitely couldn’t control the smile that graced your lips. ‘I probably shouldn’t have done that, but I have to say, I thought you were better than this.’ Steve looked at you with a curious and confused look. ‘I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type of guy to kiss someone else while with someone else.’ A wave of guilt washed over his face.

‘I should go tell her. Stay here?’ You nodded and kissed his cheek.

‘Let her down easy okay?’ It was his turn to nod before leaving the kitchen. A few moments later, Bucky entered and looked at the smile on your face.

‘Steve finally admit his feelings for you?’ Bucky asked.

‘How’d you know?’ You ask stunned.

‘2 reasons, Steve came out off the kitchen smiling like an idiot and secondly, he asked me to leave because he wanted to talk to Ava alone.’ You laughed a little at how well Bucky knew his best friend.

‘I hope Ava takes it well. I don’t want her taking it out on Steve.’

‘She will take it well. I heard her talking to her friend the other day saying she didn’t really care about him but more just wanted to say she was dating someone. Apparently, Steve is 6’2, strong and can beat up anyone he wants.’ You couldn’t help but laugh at what Ava made Steve out to be. Steve made his way into the kitchen, his hands in his pockets and a wide smile on his face. ‘How’d she take it?’ Bucky asked. With his new found confidence, instead of answering with words, Steve made his way over to you and kissed you hard. Without a doubt, it took your breath away but it ended all too soon. ‘I’m gonna take that as a yes.’ Bucky said with a smirk.

‘Heh, yeah. Ava wasn’t really interested anyway, said she was planning to dump me soon since her friends wanted to meet me.’

‘Aww, Stevie.’

‘It doesn’t even matter anymore though. I’ve got you and Buck.’

‘About that Steve, uh…I’ve been accepted to be a soldier and I’m leaving in a week.’

Permanent tag list: @the-everlasting-dream, @rousetta, @fuckyourgondola, @whiskey-cokenfanfic

#steve rogers imagines #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers angst #pre-serum steve x reader #pre-serum steve #pre-serum steve rogers x reader #platonic!bucky x reader #platonic!bucky barnes x reader

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can-youmoveyourseatup · 6 years ago

Text

“I think I just kissed you?”

A/n - omg hey hi hello !! im so so sorry I haven't posted in the longest of times but this is me trying to find my groove again! so ta da! some tooth rotting fluff coming right up!! also sorry to @unyielding-as-the-sea who has been waiting a very long time for this imagine (I'm sorry I'm the worst) but better late then never pls send me requests, feedback all that stuff and enjoy!!

((sorry in advance about how cliche but sjsjsjjs I was feeling the fluff))

request: Hey I saw you're taking Marvel requests? If it's not too much trouble, could you please write something Bucky/Reader where the reader really isn't a morning person? Thank you :)

((I’m so sorry I deviated a lil’ from the prompt but hopefully its okay!))

warnings: a lil bit of swearing? but other than that just some tooth rotting fluff!!

word count: 6.7k (yeET)

masterlist

You shrieked when your sheets were ripped from your tight grasp, the cold air enticing a shiver to travel down your spine. You blinked sleepily, blindly patting the bed only to groan loudly when your fingers met the mattress. Another grumble slipped past your lips when the curtains were torn apart, the morning sun streaming into your once dark oasis. Your mood was already turning sour and the day had yet to begin.

Leaning up on your elbows, you glared at Steve standing by the foot of your bed, his hands on his hips disapproval etched into his expression. It was a look you had grown accustomed to, having been on the receiving end more times than you would care to admit. You glowered at each other for a few moments, Steve shifting to cross his arms against his chest, his eyebrows raised expectedly. You took this as your cue to drag yourself out of bed and prepare yourself for whatever torture he had in mind. Steve’s frown grew deeper and when you shook your head defiantly.

You sighed, breaking the eye contact, coming to terms with the inevitable. “I hate you so much right now.” Your voice croaked uncomfortably, several octaves lower than your normal tone. Steve didn’t so much as flinch, at the insult, a ghost of a smile threatening to take over his features.

“That sounds more like a ‘you’ problem, not a ‘me’ problem.” Steve deadpanned, his lips curling into a smirk when you pouted in his direction. “Now get out bed. We have a meeting.” You let out another whine, before burying your face in the pillow beside you.

You detested mornings. There were very few things that could pull you out of your slumber willingly and team meetings were definitely not one of them. Listening to one of Steve’s very obviously pre-rehearsed speeches was not something that enthralled you to begin with, but add a Monday morning into the equation and it became your worst nightmare.

“Nah, I’m good Cap but thanks for the offer.” You couldn’t suppress the smirk you were sporting when your heard Steve groan, his exasperation evident. Even though you couldn’t see him, you knew he was throwing his hands up like the dramatic Star-Spangled-Captain he is.

“Y/N! Get up! Meeting room in five minutes!” You watched with your face pressed into your pillow as Steve stalked out of your bedroom, all hope for sleep evaporating instantaneously. Huffing, a miserable pout settled on your lips as you glowered at the ceiling and cursed Steve for his stupid antics. Your eyes wandered to the door, weighing up the pros and cons of curling up back under your sheets.

“Five minutes, Y/N!” You sighed delicately as Steve’s order rang down the corridor, no doubt aware of the plan you were devising. The team knew you all too well.

You didn’t even try to hide the scowl that had settled on your lips as you entered the meeting room, ignoring the looks of amusement your team shot in your direction. They didn’t expect anything less of you - still in your pyjamas, you hair a tangled mess with two different socks on either foot.

“Nice jammies Y/N.” You swatted the back of Sam’s head, rolling your eyes when he continued to laugh. You scanned the room for an available seat, not oblivious to the fact that you were the last team member to enter the room.

“Y/N! Here, hun, I saved you a seat!” You turned to smile gratefully in Natasha’s direction only to freeze in your spot when you realised who else you would be seated next to. Quickly you recovered, glaring at her harshly to which she only smirked. You tried to stay calm when you made eye contact with Bucky, but your heart wouldn’t stop thudding uncomfortably in your chest when he smiled warmly at you. He was wearing the blue t-shirt that brought out his eyes, the one that you loved.

“You’re welcome.” Natasha whispered in your ear, giving you a wink when you glared at her in response. A few weeks ago when you splurged on one too many cocktails at Tony’s birthday party, your tongue became a little too loose, and you babbled on to Nat about how big of a crush you had Bucky Barnes. She sat beside you at the bar listening to you ramble on and on about how attractive you thought Bucky was and how his jawline could slice your finger just by looking at it. You moaned about how his eyes made you weak and how that blue t-shirt that was a little more or the snug side drove you mad. Since then, Natasha had not hesitated in trying to admit your feelings every chance she got. She knew how smitten you were, always shooting you not-so-subtle glances every time he would walk in the room or flash you a smile that made you feel all tingly inside.

You internally groaned when you clumsily plonked yourself in your chair. You didn’t fail to notice the very little space that sat between you and Bucky. His broad form not helping the situation as his elbows and legs unintentionally took up most of your space. You turned to Natasha again.

“Do you think you could m-”

“Nope.” You mouth dropped open in disbelief, blinking in her direction. You were about to retort and preferably wipe that stupid little smug smirk off her face but Steve clearing his throat cut you off. You resorted to the iciest glare you had ever given another individual - she knew what she was doing and she was loving every second of it, unfazed by how utterly flustered you were.

It wasn't as though you didn't talk to Bucky, because you did. The two of you shared inside jokes and you lived for the banter between Bucky, Sam and yourself. But too often, you found yourself getting a little to caught up in the way he smiled widely, and when he would catch you staring, you would shift from one foot to the other awkwardly before blubbering nonsense about an errand you had to run.

“Right.” You broke eye contact with Natasha and turned to face Steve who was looking at everyone expectantly, before delving into a long speech about the mission in two days. You tried to pay attention, you really did, but the moment he started to talk “strategy” he lost you. You feigned interest, nodding enthusiastically whenever you accidentally made eye contact, making sure he didn't catch you staring distractedly out the window behind him.

It didn't help that Bucky kept fidgeting beside you. It was like your senses were on hyper alert. You couldn't help but notice every time he would sigh delicately and bring his bottom lip between his teeth, turn to fiddle with the loose strand on his shirt humming quietly under his breath or shift his chair slightly trying to get comfortable. You tried not to jump every time his thigh would bump against your knee from its persistent swaying, but every time it did your could feel yourself growing hot. You tried to pretend it didn't affect you when his hand brushed against your bare thigh when he checked the time on his phone.

“Sorry, doll.” Bucky whispered, smiling lightly before pocketing the device. You shook your head dismissively, despite the way your felt inside, cursing yourself for still being in your pyjama shorts.

“s fine, Buck.” You smiled in return, pretending to refocus your attention on Steve, fighting the blush that threatened to crawl up your cheeks. You were trying to remain nonchalant but how could you? He was making it real damn hard.

So when his thigh hit your knee again moments later, you didn’t freeze but when he kept it there, his foot dangerously close to your own, your heart pounded furiously in your chest. It didn’t help at all when he leant forward, elbow on the arm rest, so close to you that you could smell his cologne. You were delirious? Or did you just hear him chuckle lowly, not loud enough for anyone but you to hear.

Oh my gosh, Y/N pull it together woman!!

Trying to calm yourself and maintain your nonchalant facade, you rested your head and your arms on the table, breathing out a shaky breath. To your utmost surprise, you felt Bucky follow your lead behind you, leaning on the table. He was close before but now, he was all you could think about as his breath tickled your neck, his intoxicating scent invading your sense. You watched Steve in a daze as he turned to gesture to something behind him.

“Have you ever noticed how small Steve’s ass is? Like, the serum made everything double in size except for his ass.”

When Bucky whispered in your ear, you all but choked on your own saliva, a mixture of a cough and a burst of laughter escaping you. You flailed your hands in front of your face helplessly, coughing repeatedly as Bucky patted you on the back, rolling his lips in his mouth to stop himself from laughing at your expense. With watery eyes you snuck a glance at Bucky, your cheeks glowing when you found him grinning sheepishly at you, the corner of his eyes crinkled and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

“Carry on,” you spluttered out, when Steve paused, eyeing you incredulously as though you had grown two heads. You couldn’t blame him; you couldn’t very well have a coughing attack from literally nothing. “I’m all good. I’m breathing, see?” You huffed out an exaggerated breath, rambling slightly, Bucky’s grin throwing you off guard.

“As I was saying,” you ignored the obvious annoyance that laced Steve’s words at the interruption and stared at the board.

“I hate you.” You bitterly mumbled, refusing to acknowledge Bucky chuckling behind you.

“No, you don't.” He whispered back and you could practically hear the grin in his voice. You tried your best not to melt right then and there when you felt his leg still pressed against your own, his foot now nudging yours softly. But he was right; you really couldn't hate him.

It had been two days since the meeting room incident and Bucky has been driving you fucking crazy. When the meeting ended you did not hesitate to dart up from your seat and stumble to the kitchen, stammering nonsense about cravings. You didn’t miss the way Natasha laughed loudly and the way Bucky’s eyes curiously followed your retreating figure.

‘Maybe he was in a good mood?’ you thought to yourself, trying to brush off his actions. But his touchy-feely behaviour did not cease and it was driving you mad. It seemed every time he walked into a room now you would blush furiously refusing to make eye contact, already anticipating the little touches and caresses that made you tingle all over.

A hand on the small of your back whenever he walked past you, mumbling a “’scuse me, doll” every damn time. You weren't sure if you had just noticed, but he never called you by your first name opting for a pet name - doll, sweetheart, darling. The casual drawl of his voice would cause the blood to rush to your face at the very thought. A hand squeezing your hip when you were facing the countertop, back to the door way as he reached up to grab a bowel despite the clean stack beside you from the dishwasher. You could feel his lingering glances at training, making you stumble one too many times and almost embarrassingly drop a weight on your foot. Offering to dry the dishes when it as your turn to wash, standing closer than need be, his hip bumping against yours whenever he cracked a joke.

He was driving you to the brink of insanity, your head spinning at the very thought. So here you were, lounging on the couch not at all focusing on the re-runs of Friends playing on TV. Natasha and Tony had insisted that Steve and Wanda catch up on the series but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn't stop overthinking the way Bucky had squeezed your hip jokingly during training in response to your sharp tongue.

“Scoot over.” The voice in your ear made you jolt in your seat, not fully registering what Bucky said as he walked around the sofa, looking at your legs expectantly. You shifted slightly, tucking your feet underneath you, shocked at seeing Bucky look so casual. I mean sure, you both lived together and he had seen you at worst morning state, but this was different. He just looked so much more comfortable than you had ever seen him. The black t-shirt plastered against his chest exposed his arm completely, the pair of red flannelette pyjamas hanging loosely of his legs as his sock clad feet padded against the floor, his hair tied back into bun at the nape of his neck.

You felt yourself grow warmer at your not-so-subtle staring and the way he pressed himself up against your side completely, despite there being plenty of room on the other side of him. He shot you a smile, the one where his eyes crinkled, small and gentle as though this was something the two of you had down thousands of times. You returned it, albeit slightly shaky before turning your attention to the television, pointedly ignoring the matching smirks Natasha and Wanda (who she no doubly had blabbed to) were shooting in your direction.

Your thoughts became incomprehensible when Bucky let out a groan, settling himself further into the couch, his arm winding around your shoulders and his feet stretching out to rest on the coffee table. You tried to not let your breathing become erratic as the weight of his arm inevitably brought you closer together, tucking you into his chest with your head against his shoulder.

“Are you cold?” He didn't even wait for you to reply before throwing the blanket that sat on the end of the couch over the two of you. He sighed lightly again, bringing you even closer to his chest, his hand soothingly rubbing your arm mistaking your goosebumps for the weather.

“Thanks, Buck.” You smiled gratefully despite your overactive heart pounding in your chest. You tucked your head onto Bucky’s shoulder before you had time to think about what you were doing.

“You okay, doll?” He whispered lowly after a little while, his fingers caressing your shoulder to get your attention. You nodded quickly, glancing up at him through your eyelashes to see his lips turned up into a lazy smile. “Good.” He said simply re-focused his attention to the screen.

But you couldn't pay attention, how could you when he was this close? You stared forward distracted, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth every time he let out a laugh or sniggered. Soon he began to thread his fingers softly through the ends of your hair and despite the way your heart thudded, you found yourself relaxing, subconsciously leaning further into his side. You suppressed a shudder every time his fingers gently scratched against your scalp, as he thread them through the length of your hair.

Soon enough, you could feel his fingers slowing down and his arm getting heavier around you. His head kept lolling back and then jotting forward as he tried to keep himself from falling asleep. He wasn't the only one; Tony and Steve had left about half an hour ago, bidding everyone goodnight and you could see Wanda struggling to keep her eyes open. It was when his head rested gently on top of yours that you gently tugged on his arm.

He jolted upright, blinking sleepily. “You’re falling asleep, Bucky.” You whispered, blushing when he raised his head and almost knocked into yours in the process. You smiled at his tired expression, subconsciously brushing the hair that had fallen from his hair tie away from his forehead.

“M sorry, did you say something darlin’?” Your heart hammered again, the term of endearment doing crazy things to you. You laughed lightly, rolling your eyes at his sheepish expression.

“I said: you’re falling asleep. Go to bed before you actually collapse on top of me.” He let out a small laugh, his arm slipping down to rest on your waist, sniffling a yawn.

“S’pose I should. But I’m so comfortable.” You didn't think it would be possible for him to get any cuter but it was as he nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, oblivious to the surprised squeak you let out. You tried to pry him off you, partly because he was heavy and partly because you thought you might possibly implode from having him this close.

That proved to be unsuccessful because all he did was fall down to your lap, reaching for the other blanket behind you to drape over himself.

“By all means, make yourself at home.” You raised your hands in surprise, taken aback but just how touchy Bucky could be when he was sleepy.

“Thanks darlin’, I will.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back on the couch, not realising it yourself when you fell asleep. When you woke in the morning from Sam’s shouting, you were tucked into your bed, not remembering the small forehead kiss Bucky gave you before he left to collapse in his own bed.

The morning of the mission came and your scowl was deeper than ever. “Why couldn't we do the mission in the afternoon? Why do we have to wake up so stupidly early.” You grumbled to yourself, flitting around the room to make sure your gear was intact and your small emergency backpack was filled with the essentials.

With a heavy sigh, you close your bedroom door behind you, making your way to the quinjet. You smiled tightly at everyone, nodding at Steve who bid you ‘good morning’. You rarely spoke before missions, especially missions that were this early in the morning. You were either a) trying to wake themselves up or b) too nervous to even attempt a conversation.

You sat in the furthest seat - once again the last team member to arrive, returning the smile Wanda shot you over her shoulder, seated in front of you.

“Good morning, sunshine.” You watched in surprise as Bucky slid into the sit beside you, smiling broadly despite the early morning hours. You rose an eyebrow at his all-too-chirpy behaviour, a confused smile settling on your lips. You couldn't remember a time when he wasn't sat up the front with Steve, flicking Sam’s ear when he wasn't paying attention.

“Is it a good morning though? Is it really? I wanna be in bed.” You grunted in response, your breath catching in your throat when Bucky grinned in your direction, bumping his shoulder against yours.

“I’m right there with ya, hun.” You laughed lightly, turning your attention to star absentmindedly out the window. You sat together comfortably, passing the time with small talk - you both needed the distraction.

“Is that Y/N? Is that actually Y/N having a conversation with someone before noon? I though I would never see the day. What did you say to her Barnes?” Sam quipped, laughing to himself from the front, a teasing grin settled upon his lips.

“Shut it bird brain.” You snapped back, keeping your eyes downcast feeling everyone looking at you. Your spirits were lifted when you heard Bucky suppressing a laugh beside you, his chest shaking slightly as a chuckle escaped him.

“Rude.” Sam deadpanned simply, rolling his eyes before turning back around. You took your chances and shot a fleeting glance in Bucky’s direction to find him grinning boyishly down at you. Without even realising you grinned back, growing warm at the look he was giving you. It was looks like these that you replayed in your mind all the time. He looked at you like you were the light of his life, his eyes clearer than ever with a genuine beam plastered upon his face. But you always inwardly scolded yourself, not wanting to build up your hopes for them to be knocked down. You turned your focus to the front aimlessly staring out the window as you fiddled with the buckle on your seat; un-doing it and re-doing it.

Something gently nudged your thigh, and you glanced down to find Bucky’s human hand palm facing up resting beside your leg. You bit your bottom lip and had to contain the squeal you so desperately wanted to let out. You had seen enough rom-coms and read enough romance book to know what that meant: he wanted you to hold his hand.

And so you did, placing your palm gently against Bucky’s warm one for him to intertwine your fingers together.

‘You were probably annoying him with the seatbelt.’ you thought to yourself, trying to make sense of it all.

You didn't dare look at him, trying to gauge his reaction from the corner of your eye. You heart thudded when you noticed the pink shade that dusted his cheeks, he too pointedly not making eye contact. You jumped slightly whens his thumb gently caressed the inside of your palm, a shudder unexpectedly running down your spine.

A comfortable silence lingered, neither of you feeling the need to fill it with conversation. Your mind was reeling, barely noticing when the quinjet began to land. Bucky’s hand gently squeezing your own brought you out of your daydream.

“C’mon darlin’, lets go kick some bad guy’s ass.” You snickered as he squeezed your hand one more time before letting it go, your palm hitting your thigh limply, already missing the warmth.

How did I end up here?

You thought to yourself, your mind reeling as you stared at the very small room and the very small single bed pressed against the wall of the makeshift bedroom. You blinked slowly, your grip on your bag tightening slightly as you refused to focus on anything else. You began to connect the dots, recalling Natasha’s voice in your ear over the intercom.

“Its too dangerous to come back to the quinjet right now. If you travel a little further down the path there’s a small hotel, I’ve booked you two a room. Stay there for the night and Steve and I will come and get you in the morning.” Before you could even let out a protestant squawk she had left the line, refusing to respond no matter how many times you screeched her name down the intercom.

“Do you want to shower first?” You were reminded of Bucky’s presence when he gently touched your bicep, nodding in the direction of what you assumed was the bathroom.

“Huh?” You blanched, blinking up at Bucky who was too close, close enough that you could see the small cut that was already healing over his eyebrow. Bucky smiled patiently, evidently not startled at all by the very small single bed you were both going to have to squeeze into.

“The shower; d’you want to use the shower first.” You could hear how tired he was, no doubt just as eager as you to go to sleep. He had been at the forefront of the fight with Steve, whilst you came in later, his bones no doubt aching from the mission. But here he was, being so damn thoughtful making you think the unthinkable again.

“No, Buck its fine, you go first. You need it.”

“Are you trying to tell me I smell, sweetheart?” You scoffed rolling your eyes.

“Yes,” You deadpanned, laughing at his look of mock offence. “now go have a shower, before you collapse on the floor.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Just don't use up all the hot water, please.”

“Yes ma’am.” Grabbing his bag off the floor where he had dropped it, he turned to the bathroom. “Thanks, love.” He smiled at you over his shoulder before closing the door behind him.

Despite the jokes and your calm demeanour you were still most definitely freaking out on the inside. You waited until you could hear the shower running before you reached into the bad and with shaky fingers, you made a call.

“Natasha Romanoff I am going to murder you when I get back.” You hissed down the line as soon as she answered, trying keep your voice as low as you could, mildly aware of Bucky humming lowly as he showered.

“A ‘thank-you’ will suffice Y/N.”

“A ‘thank-you’?” You almost yelled incredulously, all but collapsing on the bed. “Nat, theres one bed and I can barely sit next to him on movie nights without hyperventilating about how fucking good it feels when he has his arm around me! How in the hell am I gonna be able to sleep in the sam- holy shit. Nat my heart won’t stop fucking pounding! What the shit, oh my gosh. This is it; I’m gonna die.”

“You’re not going to die you lunatic, it’s called feelings.” She laughed teasingly causing you to narrow your eyes.

“Don’t sass me right now Romanoff, I’m about to hyperventilate! There’s only one bed. Holy shit!” You repeated angrily, swearing profusely at nothing in particular. A small part of you was jumping for joy to have an excuse to cuddle up again to your long-time crush but the other part of you was screaming.

“Y/N? Doll, are you okay?” Bucky’s voice came through the door, gentle, soft and welcoming. You didn't even register how loud your voice had gotten, he was obviously alarmed by your exclamation.

“Y-yes! I’m fine! Just uhh, can't get the television to work!” You cringed at your own words, cursing yourself inwardly. Who were you? Steve?

“What the hell Y/N?” Natasha giggled down the line uncontrollably, no doubt having the time of her life. You froze when the water stopped.

“Listen, you better tell Stark to get me another room or so help me-”

“Sorry, no can do! Gotta go! Love you, stay safe!” You gaped in surprise when you heard the dial tone. Before you had time to redial and yell at her some more, the bathroom door opened.

“All yours.” Bucky smiled, his hair still slightly damped pulled back into his regular bun, clad in a regular pair of training wear: sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“All my what?” You blurted, feeling yourself flush all over.

“The bathroom, darlin’,” Bucky laughed, not at all bothered by your complete lack of people skills right now. “I’m going to jump in bed, what side do you want?”

You froze again at how casual he sounded, evidently not at all bothered by the prospect of sharing a bed with you.

“The wall, please.” You squeaked, your grip around your phone tightening as you felt yourself flushing ever more.

“Sure thing.” He smiled again, tossing his bag by the foot of the bed. You nodded, standing in the middle of the room in a daze before abruptly turning and entering the bathroom.

You huffed out a breath as you stared at your reflection, wincing at your matted hair that stuck to your forehead, drenched in sweat. How did Bucky smile at you the way he did when you looked like that? You paused for a few moments more, trying to collet and make sense of your thoughts.

You were almost positive he didn't like you like that. You were absolutely sure you crush was completely one sided. But a small part of you was screaming that he reciprocated your feelings, the way he kept touching you so casually and looking at you like you were his and he was yours ignited a part within you that just wanted him closer. Groaning lowly you ran your hand over your face positive you weren't going to make it through the night without having a mental breakdown.

You showered slowly, even when the water went cold, you took your time attempting to delay the inevitable. You had no idea how the hell you were going to face him when you thoughts wouldn't stop. Begrudgingly, you turned off the water when you fingers began to wrinkle, drying yourself off. You froze when you opened your bag to find it empty. Gone were the clothes you had packed earlier.

You were so going to murder Natasha when you got home.

“Bucky?” You called out softly, gripping the towel around you as tightly as you could.

It didn't take him long to respond at all, “What’s the matter?” His voice was laced with sleep and you immediately felt guilty for more than likely waking him.

“I don't know how, I swear I packed clothes, but they're, erm, not in my bag,” Thanks to a certain red headed nuisance. “But my uniform is real gross right now. Do you mind going downstairs and asking where the-”

“Don't be silly darlin’, here, I've got a hoodie, it'll be long enough on you anyway,” He cut off your ramblings and before you could even protest, you heard him rummaging around the room then knocking softly on the door.

“My eyes are closed, sweetheart I promise.” You took in a breath trying to calm yourself. Slowly you opened the door, to find Bucky his hand outstretch gripping the jumper, his metal fingers over his eyes. You paused for a moment, rolling your lips into your mouth to suppress the giggle that was threatening to leave your lips.

“Are you laughing at me?” Bucky grinned, his bottom lip captured between his teeth.

“No! No -I. . . Thanks Buck.” You rambled, snatching the hoodie from his grip and closing the door hastily behind you. You could hear him chuckle to himself before returning to bed, the springs groaning loudly under his weight.

Quickly, you pulled the hoodie over your body, adoring the way it engulfed you entirely, the sleeves coming past your hands, the scent that has been driving you crazy surrounding you completely. With much hesitation, you pulled open the door avoiding Bucky’s lingering eyes which you could feel watching your every move.

“I got the TV to work!” Bucky smirked, wiggling the remote in your direction proudly. You flushed and looked down at your feet, remembering your outburst.

“Right. That’s uhh. . . that’s good Buck.” You pretended to yawn, wanting an excuse to fall asleep quickly and avoid causing any potential awkwardness.

“Tired?” Bucky questioned, watching as you threw your bag next to his. You nodded, smiling lopsidedly in his direction before awkwardly clambering to your side of the bed. You quickly crawled under the sheets, apologising when you accidentally kicked his leg.

“Goodnight, Buck.” You whispered, trying to settle into the uncomfortable bed without invading too much of Bucky’s space. But it was impossible, Bucky was so close to you and eerily calm about the whole thing, absentmindedly flicking through the channels on the television.

“G’night, love. Sweet dreams.” You closed your eyes thankful that the sleep your were praying for came quickly.

It was hot. It was way too hot to even think right now. You could literally feel the sweat dripping off your skin as you kept your eyes closed, your clothes sticking to you in the most uncomfortable way. What a lovely way to wake up, you thought to yourself, letting out a small groan as you felt yourself twitch, the deep sleep you were once in slipping away from you due to your current uncomfortable predicament. But nevertheless, you refused to move - there was no way you were going to get up early if you didn't have too especially given the way your bones were aching.

Taking a deep breath, you buried your head further into the pillow, the stiffness prompting your eyebrows to crinkle. You couldn’t help but notice the silence that seemed to engulf the air; something that you were never fortunate enough to experience in the compound. You panicked for a moment before everything came rushing back: the mission, Natasha and Bucky. You would never get that look he gave you out of your head. For a moment, you let yourself think again of the possibility that maybe he was just as nervous around you as you were around him, recalling the blush that was on his cheeks when you clambered awkwardly into bed, his hoodie resting above your knees.

Your thoughts quickly became muddled together when you became aware of the body that was curled up behind you. You felt your heart literally skip a beat, your eyes snapping open and your head spinning when you realised just how close they were, but when you caught sight of the metal fingers that rested above your pillow you could feel yourself flushing for a whole new reason. This time you were positive it wasn’t because of the heat. You stilled completely as you stared up at the metal panes, your mind racing; you couldn’t remember falling asleep last night, too drained emotionally and physically, but you were sure you had left as much room as possible between the two of you, but now there was none, a blush crawling up your neck as you become aware of the arm that was round around your waist.

Bucky’s human fingers had slipped beneath his hoodie, lightly brushing against the skin on your hip, dangling on your stomach. Your legs were tangled together messily your foot resting against his calf, your toes no longer cold. You could feel the way his nose was buried in your unruly bed-hair, his breath trickling down your shoulder as he slept on completely unaware of what he was doing to you.

Now you really regretted picking the side against the wall. You desperately wanted to get out of bed to avoid the awkwardness that would for sure ensue if Bucky found himself wound tightly around you.

As stealthily as you could, you turned over carefully, Bucky’s grip only tightening around you as you did so, mumbling lowly in his sleep. His hand curled over to your back, calloused fingers grazing the soft skin on the small of your back. You were sure you were going to implode, as he unconsciously dragged you even closer to his body, his chin resting against your forehead and his thick thigh wrapped around your calf.

A few shaky breaths slipped past your lips as you collected yourself. You gently placed your hands against his chest, intending to pull yourself out his grip, but only found yourself blushing against the feeling of his very obviously toned chest beneath your fingertips. You gazed up at him, holding your breath when he mumbled again, nuzzling his face into the pillow. You had the perfect opportunity to slip away, his grip loose enough, but you didn't. You found yourself entranced by how peaceful he looked, so at ease unlike you had ever seen him. The sunlight streaming through the crack between the curtains you don't remember closing, illuminating the room enough for you to make out the curve of his nose and the sharpness of his jawline. Your heart ached for him, the poor man who had been through so much and seen so much more than he ever should have. Subconsciously, your thumb caressed his chest feeling the steady beat of his heart against your skin.

You almost jumped out of your skin, when he began to twitch next to you, letting out a long breath as his head dropped down to your neck. He groaned tightening his grip around you that had loosened slightly. You couldn't see him, your nose pressed into his collarbone and you were glad, grateful that he couldn't see the way your cheeks were redder than ever before.

He hummed lightly, the action tickling your skin. You almost jumped when he murmured your name, checking whether you were awake.

“Mhmm?” You hummed back, not trusting yourself with words right now.

“Is it morning already?” You had only heard his morning voice on odd occasions, when you weren't glaring down at your toast and payed enough attention to listen. But the gruffness in his voice made you weak at the knees, unprepared for how good it sounded.

“Barely.” You squeaked, your voice unnaturally high pitched.

If he noticed, he didn’t say anything, pulling his head back to look down at you, a lazy smile working its way onto his lips. His arm was still wrapped around your body as his metal fingers gently brushed the hair away from your eyes, the gentlest expression you had ever seen him wear etched into his face.

Without warning, he lazily brought his head down and pressed his lips to yours in an action that felt all too natural. His lips were soft, their gentle caress leaving you craving more. His nose nudging against yours lightly as though he had done it thousands of times, as he delicately sighed into the kiss. You froze on the spot, the hand on his chest subconsciously curling to clutch the fabric in your hand.

He seemed to register what he had done a moment later, breaking your lips apart, his fingers still weaved through your hair. Panic began to seep into his expression as he opened his mouth to no doubt apologise, but it didn't look like he could speak, stammering profusely, “I. . . I didn't. . . I didn't mean to- no, not like that. . . I didn't-”

“What did you just do?” You mumbled in disbelief, cutting off his ramblings, his lips so close to your own that they brushed against each other when you spoke. You were in a daze, your lips were tingling from being pressed against Bucky’s and all you could think about was how close he was. You didn't really need him to answer that question, you just really wanted to hear him say it.

“I think I just kissed you.” He finally whispered back, his blue eyes bright as he shifted his gaze between your lips and you eyes. He was hesitant, that was clear, not daring to move in the slightest.

“I think I want you to do it again.” You finally muttered lowly. You could feel the way his heart was thudding so similarly to your own beneath the palm of your hand. You could feel the slight shake in his fingers as they curled around your waist, not wanting to mess anything up or scare you away.

“Yeah?” Bucky nudged his nose against yours again, the ghost of a smile playing upon his lips as he looked at you.

“Yeah.” You breathed out lamely, barely able to get the word out before you gave yourself time to starting overthinking, gripping his shirt and pressing your lips harder against his.

He groaned softly into the kiss, kissing you back with the same amount of fervour. His fingers splaying out against your back to pull you even closer, your hand cupping his jaw as his moved his lips in sync with yours in a way that left your dizzy and craving more.

You wanted him closer, and its seemed as though Bucky had the same idea as he pulled you over his body. Your legs straddled his chest, his hands running up and down your sides before sneaking under to hoodie to grip your hips, a shiver travelling down your spine. Bucky noticed, his lips curling into a grin as he pulled your closer, your chest against his.

You were euphoric. You had only ever imagined what it would be like to kiss Bucky, but this was a thousand times better. You felt weak every time his tongue traced your lip, your bodies moulding together easily, his body so warm and inviting. You groaned when Bucky’s lips left yours as you gasped for air, peppering kisses across your jawline, one of his hands cupping your neck while the other kept you pressed against him. His kisses became more lingering, and your breathe started to come back to you, a genuine smile setting upon your lips when Bucky looked up to face you, his cheeks flushed and his hair a complete mess.

“I think you ought to know, I mean, I’d be a bit concerned if you haven't figured it out already, but, I really, really, really like you, y/n.” He whispered, brushing your hair out of your face as you giggled down at him, pecking his lips once more.

“And I, really, really, really like you, James.” You giggled again, smiling when he pulled you down again to connect your lips once more. You leaned back to stare at him, blushing profusely at the look of utter adoration in his expression.

“What a way to wake up.” Bucky whispered, tugging you toward him to kiss you again, and again, and again.

You hummed in agreement, unable to wipe the grin off your face. “I could get used to this.”

“Oh darlin’, I absolutely adore you.”

You screeched excitedly when Bucky rolled you over, planting himself between your legs, kissing you softly once more.

Maybe you would have to thank Natasha after all.

taglist (message me if you wanna be added :)):

@kapolisradomthoughts

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writing-freak · 6 years ago

Text

Masterlist

last updated/revised: 7/26/20

i. The Sports Festival

reader with a weather quirk faces off against shinsou in the sports festival

- pt 2: Parties for No One

you consider approaching shinsou after the sports festival. an unlikely friendship commences

ii. Heroes and Villains

requested; a mistake shinsou makes during a mission leads to the death of six hostages and you in the hospital. you manage to calm him down before a breakdown

iii. Soulmate AU Aizawa and Shinsou w/ Dreams AU hcs

requested; part of soulmate au week; every time you go to sleep, you meet up with your soulmate. unfortunately for your soulmate, you’re an expert at lucid dreaming, and manage to conceal your appearance by changing in every dream

iv. Soulmate AU Shinsou w/ Platonic Soulmates AU hcs

requested; part of soulmate au week; platonic soulmates appear as shadowy demons at night. when you overcome your fear of the monster in the night, you can get to know your own imaginary friend

v. Heroes Together

requested; after growing up close friends with shinsou, you are forced to move away and leave your home behind. years later, you return, reunited with the best friend who doesn’t seem to remember you

i. Big 3 Slumber Party

a sleepover with the big three leads to some truth or dare confessions you may or may not be ready to share about your best friend

ii. Smiles of Sunshine

requested; a first date scenario in which Mirio is determined to break you out of your shy, bashful, and slow-to-smile shell

iii. Soulmate AU Mirio w/ First Words AU hcs

requested; part of soulmate au week; first words au in which Mirio has “OH MY GOSH PUT SOME CLOTHES ON” on his wrist and you have “I am so sorry I did not mean to flash you” on yours

iv. Falling for You

requested; awkward, embarrassed, pining over here where you are absolutely determined not to fall in front of your crush

v. Don’t Leave

requested; angst; Mirio’s perfectly planned day is ruined by a horrible accident while he’s away at work

vi. Nighteye Reincarnation hcs

requested; platonic!Mirio; when Mirio hears of a quirk like yours, which can reincarnate the souls of the dead, he is determined to find you and spend one last day with his mentor, Nighteye

i. BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 1: The Ticking Clock

part of soulmate au week; everyone has a timer on their wrist that counts down to the moment they meet their soulmate. yours has been on zero since before you can remember

ii. Facts of the Universe hcs

requested; friends since before you can remember, there are no boundaries between you and bakugou. you share everything, but how can he possibly share how he really feels about you?

iii. Facts of the Universe pt. 2 hcs

requested; angst with fluffy end; when you’re severely injured, bakugou can’t help but feel the universe he thought he knew so well crashing down upon him

iv. Dress Prank hcs

requested; fem!reader; how does bakugou react when you put on a revealing dress and tell him you’re going out to see another man?

v. Meet the Parents hcs

requested; when bakugou agrees to a dinner with your parents for the first time, the last thing he expects is for your dad to be exactly like him

i. BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 2: The Red String of Fate

part of soulmate au week; tamaki, your shy soulmate, keeps running away from you, making the red string tied to your pinky longer and longer, and far more inconvenient for you

i. BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 3: Blue Eyes

part of soulmate au week; you are obsessed with the color blue, and spend your life dedicated to the things the beautiful color produces. only problem? you’ve never been able to see it

ii. Promise to You

requested; when an ex-friend of yours who spent years shattering your self esteem shows up on your tiktok’s for you page, your boyfriend ditches his study session to calm you down

i. BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 4: Save Your Soul

part of soulmate au week; everyone has colorful marks on their skin where their soulmate touches them for the first time. you’re determined to hide your soulmarks: a pair of hands on your waist

i. BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 5: Drawing on Skin

part of soulmate au week; anything you write on your skin shows up on the skin of your soulmate. you often draw the attention of others due to the crazy doodles, scribbles, and words written all over you from head to toe

i. BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 7: Running from Pain

part of soulmate au week; in a world where you feel every ounce of pain your soulmate has, you spend your entire childhood trying to keep your soulmate safe, and it seems like they have the same idea. that is, of course, until you’re off to the support course at UA, and find yourself in all sorts of trouble. you don’t feel so bad, though, cause whatever your soulmate is up to seems to be creating the same amount of pain for you as you’re creating for them

i. BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 6: The Power to Choose

part of soulmate au week; soulmates have matching tattoos on the same place on their bodies. a conversation with your best friend reveals just what she believes about the tattoo marked into her skin

i. Hide Away

requested; through your close childhood friend kirishima, you meet tetsutetsu, another hero in training who develops a quick crush on you. after a stressful day of getting ready and listening to your friend’s teasing jokes, you find yourself on your first date with the young hero

i. Soulmate AU Aizawa and Shinsou w/ Dreams AU hcs

i. Soulmate AU FatGum w/ Emotions AU hcs

requested; part of soulmate au week; soulmates can feel each other’s emotions, which can be frustrating, but comes in handy now you know your soulmate is one of the top pro heroes

ii. Late Night Snack

requested; drunk after a night out with friends, you can think of only one person to call, your boyfriend, the pro hero fatgum, begging for food and a bit of company

i. Soulmate AU Tokoyami w/ Black and White AU hcs

requested; part of soulmate au week; your soulmate’s fears and insecurities are like shadows, and can turn your vision grey until you meet them. when tokoyami’s colors start fading, he becomes desperate to find you

i. Risky Business hcs

requested; an american exchange student is caught dancing in their underwear like the scene from risky business by all of class 1-a

ii. British Transfer Student hcs

requested; a british exchange student deals with class 1-a’s endless teasing and ridiculous stereotyping as they struggle to deal with moving across the world

i. Forgive

the whole team, including your brother tony, attempts to get you and bucky on speaking terms after you refuse to forgive him for what happened to your parents

ii. New to the Team

the newest member of the avengers team, you can’t understand why everyone has accepted you more readily than the winter soldier, who joined months before you did and never got the chance to find his place among the tight knit group of teammates

i. Fighting

pre-serum au; you find yourself cleaning up after your older brother’s friend steve more times than you can count. after this last fight, you’ve had enough

i. Spiderboy

finding out your best friend is a super hero could quite possibly be the best thing to happen to your friendship. finding out flash anderson asked you out could quite possibly be the worst

ii. Flying

being iron man’s kid has its perks, but also its challenges. never leaving stark tower can be lonely, but when your dad’s new “intern” finds himself in the penthouse suite, you may have found yourself a new friend

i. Worry

loki calms you down when you’re stressed about a mission and can’t fall asleep

i. Carol Drabble #1

i. Useless pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

completed; a mutant with a power to manipulate emotions, you find yourself feeling useless when your friends risk their lives on dangerous missions. hank decides to help you find a way to use your power aggressively

i. The Invisible Mutant Chapter 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3

ongoing; your mutation allows you to hide away from others, hidden in the shadows away from those who are out to hurt you. now, turning invisible is a reflex, and you do it at the smallest bit of fear, but when a mutant with mind reading powers saves you from the streets and brings you to a safe haven with other mutants your age, you come to learn that fear isn’t everything, and your mutation is so much more

ii. Summer Fun

requested; you and your husband take your daughter to a water park for a day of fun, only to catch her manipulating the water in front of the other kids

i. Bullseye

requested; you and leo are stuck after dark trying to meet the requirements to finish your archery lesson with coach hedge. after a few hours, though, it becomes clear that neither of you are going to hit a bullseye any time soon

let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist - general, for a fandom, or a particular series - also, my requests are always open! Thanks for reading!! <3

#masterlist

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balmerancrystalance · 6 years ago

Text

the jock, the preppy and the nerd aka garrison matadashi hcs

matt and shiro meet for the first time when matt was getting bullied, trying to fight them in all his pre-serum steve rogers glory, when the roaring of a bike echoes loudly, following by someone yelling at the bully from behind to “pick someone of their own size”

shiro, taking off his helmet and hopping off the bike: hey, you alright?

matt, breathless by both the fight and the pretty boy now helping him stand up: yeah, you should’ve seen the other guy

this is why shiro has been a hero longer for matt than anyone else

shiro immediatelly becoming sam’s favorite after finding out what happened

they bond over comics, movies, memes and of course, s p a c e

they also become commander iverson’s headache

on his first try on the simulator shiro effortlessly beats the record

matt, whistling: would you look at that. soon you’re gonna have every girl in here drooling over you

shiro: *closeted gay silence*

shiro eventually comes out to matt as gay when watching love, simon on movie night, giving matt the confidence enough to come out as bisexual

matt starts to wear glasses and hates them because he thinks now he looks even more like a nerd

matt: it’s like i literally have a ‘break my nose’ sign tattooed on my forehead

shiro, without looking up from his paper: actually, the reason why you get beat up is because you wear heelies but go off i guess? besides, i think they look cute

matt: *blushes in bisexual*

a year later, the first day adam walks into class shiro’s brain short-circuits

caramel smooth skin, aurburn hair falling all over his face, golden eyes looking through the room, uniform fitting in just the right places and-oh shit, he’s coming this way, fuck fuck f u c k

adam, smiling: hi, excuse me, is that seat taken?

shiro, a gay mess™: *tentatively looking down at his lap* i-

matt, slamming his hands against the table: please, join us

just when shiro thought he survived his interaction of adam asking him for a pencil their teacher offers shiro to show to show the new kids around

teacher: i’m sure one of our best students here would love to walk you through the installations and help you getting settled down

shiro, internally: ♫ conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them knoooow ♫

adam, nudging his arm smirking: so, what you say golden boy?

*shiro.exe has stopped working and somehow got even gayer*

matt excusing himself of having to do something for the rest of the day, even tho he knows shiro knows he’s lying

matt, picking up his stuff as soon as the bell rings: i’d love to join you but you know how dad gets when i’m late and stuff but hey, have fun, yeah? gotta gay-go, i gotta go!

adam, hooking his glasses into his slightly open garrison jacket: seems like you’re stuck with me

shiro: *gay panic bass boosted x10000*

the three of them quickly become friends, adam becoming their new mediator whenever they bicker (”okay, but hear me out, what if shiro is actually six?” “for the last time, that’s not how it fucking works”), knowing for some reason shiro would always listen to him and that matt is slightly intimidated by him

shiro wears his garrison jacket out, adam wears it tucked in and matt is lucky if he remembers to wear it

adam beats shiro’s score on the simulator on his first try but he’s already way head over heels for him to be even bothered about it, too focused on adam’s smile as he comes out of the ship to hear the other kids mocking because ‘the new kid beat his score’

shiro, later that day: i guess some congratulations are in order

adam, releasing the breath he was holding: oh, thank god. i thought you’d be mad at me

shiro, smirking: well, maybe i am

adam: oh, really now? *getting closer to shiro* can i make it up to you?

matt, bursting into the room in nagisa 50% off’s voice: sup, sluts?

matt knows they like-like each other before even they do, maybe its a holt’s intuition, maybe its the fact they were the epitome of the mutual pining ao3 tag

shiro finally asks adam on a date??? he’s still not sure how it happened, like, one minute he was was talking about a meteor shower and the next one adam’s hand was on his thigh saying he would see him tonight

if he got lost in adam’s lips in the middle of the conversation, which had some information he could really use right now, no one needed to know

shiro, running around their living room in panic: what do i do?

matt, playing video games sitting upside down on the couch: use the bike, that did it for me

shiro, after getting his keys and slamming the door shut: right-wait, what?!

boy oh boy does adam love the bike

shiro: need a ride, star pilot?

adam, already hopping on the bike: i don’t know. i’m not supposed to get on bikes with strangers. no matter how hot they are

shiro, laughing: then thank god you’re an awful listener

adam, whispering on shiro’s ear, smiling: to the stars, golden boy

its cheesy and disgusting and if he tells matt he won’t hear the end of it but adam looks so pretty under the moonlight shiro doesn’t care, its just perfect

shiro: did you asked for a wish already?

adam: to every single one we saw so far

shiro: how many things could you possibly want

adam, getting closer to finally kiss shiro: well, right now? just one, you

shiro and adam go back to shiro’s room forgetting matt was there o o p s

adam, the next day: are we really going to pretend nothing happe-

matt and shiro, at the same time: yes

once its oficial, adam and matt switch rooms so he can be with shiro, matt agreeding immediately when he found out adam’s roomate droped out, meaning he had the whole room to himself

adam calls him “takashi” for the first time and shiro ascends to the astral plane

the three of them somehow graduate from the garrison with honors

adam and shiro decide to become teachers, commander iverson’s recommendation, and matt hangs around every now and then helping sam

everyfuckingone in the galaxy garrison knows they’re a thing™

shiro, knocking into adam’s classroom: professor, might i have a word?

students: oOOooOooooOoOoooOOOoOooOhhhh

years later they find out that not only matt, but shiro as well, could be part of the kerberos mission, adam nothing but excited and supportive of his two favorite boys

after a few requiered studies for the mission are done, shiro gets called back, returning a few hours later with papers in his trembling hands

matt, getting up from adam’s lap where he was solving his rubik's cube: oh, fucking finally. dude, what took you so long?

adam, getting up as well: i was starting to geeting worried. what they said?

shiro, looking down at the paper, whispering: i’m... dying

shiro doesn’t get to continue because suddenly adam is runing away, feeling like he’s going to be sick at any moment, matt motioning him with his head to go after him, that he’ll be fine and they’ll talk about it later

that same day matt gets home and walks into sam’s office, sam is on the phone with someone but immediately hungs up at the sight of his son, they don’t say anything, they don’t need to

sam just nods and matt rushes to cry into his arms as loud as he can maybe since the time he found out he was having a sister and thought it meant his parents wouldn’t love him anynmore

shiro constantly says he’s okay, but he’s not

shiro and adam start to fight

they both end up occasionally at matt’s bed in the middle of the night, shiro just being done with life and needing a shoulder to cry on, adam terrified of not knowing how much left he has left to live with shiro

if matt wakes up sandwiched between his best friends he doesn’t mind

adam and matt work with the garrison on a project to create a device that would estimulate shiro’s muscles, they know its not much but its enough to make him cry, so they take it as a win

shiro and adam keep fighting

one night while watching movies adam asks matt to bring him his glasses, since shiro was way too comfortable to move from his spot sprawled across his lap apparently, matt finding a box with an engagement ring by accident

tiny teeny baby keith becomes part of this dysfunctional as fuck gay family

matt, mocking: aren’t you two too young to raise a child?

adam, sipping his black coffee not looking up from the newspaper: i don’t know. i think we’ve done a pretty decent job with you

adam sees how good shiro is with keith and fuck he just wants k i d s

shiro and adam just keep on fighting

the night after showing pidge how sam and him communicate it hits him like a whiplash, running to the garrison to find adam to tell him the good news, that the three of them will be able to talk all the way from kerberos

but he eavesdrops by accident them fighting about adam being tired about shiro constantly putting himself in danger and finally breaking up, so he keeps it to himself

when adam and shiro started to date, matt, being the overprotective best friend he is, told adam to take care of shiro, the morning before leaving for kerberos, adam asks him to return the favor

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lavender-lotion · 6 years ago

Text

And I Will Always Remember (The Way We Fit Together)

Explicit | No Archive Warnings Apply | M/M | Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies) | James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers | james "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers | Pre-War, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Confessions, Slow Dancing, Steve Rogers has a small dick, Making Out, Hickies, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time, Anal Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Bottom Steve Rogers, Top Bucky Barnes, Fluff and Smut

***

Read chapter one here on AO3 or read all three chapters on Patreon!

***

Steve is...worried isn’t the right word, because he’s not at that point yet. It’s not uncommon for Bucky to be getting in late. Sometimes, work at the Dock runs till dark, and Bucky always stays so the men with children can get home on time. Steve doesn’t mind, really, he just wishes there was a way for Bucky to let him know, so he wouldn’t worry.

Not that he needs to worry about Bucky, or that there is any reason for him to worry about Bucky. Nope. Because Buck is his best pal, and that is all they’re gonna be. It doesn’t matter what Steve’s heart wants. They...it isn’t done, not that. It doesn’t matter what they’ve done with their bodies, Steve knows that a—a relationship, ain’t gonna happen.

It doesn’t mean Steve doesn’t worry, no matter how much he tells himself to stop. He’s keeping the stew on the stove, stirrin’ it around the pot slowly to keep it warm. Steve hadn’t had anywhere else to go after his Ma passed, and Bucky had a spare room he gave to Steve—not that it gets much use, though. Making dinner and doing the chores wasn’t a condition for Steve moving in, but if he was gonna sit at home like Bucky’s wife while he worked for both of ‘em, he was gonna do what he could.

Steve lets out a relieved sigh when keys jingle in the door, and he listens to Bucky let himself into their apartment. He doesn’t even try to lift the pot of their dinner off the stove, not when it’s so full. He’ll have Bucky do it later, after they’ve eaten and talked some. Steve might even work on a few sketches he has going while Bucky reads.

“Hey, Stevie,” Bucky says, coming up behind Steve and pressing in close, winding his arms around Steve’s small waist. Bucky presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head, and he can hear Bucky breathe in deeply.

“I ain't no dame, Buck,” Steve snaps, but he doesn’t step out of Bucky’s arms. This isn’t something Bucky’s done before, and Steve doesn’t know how to react.

“Don’t be like that, Stevie,” Bucky breathes against his neck, his lips grazing the skin and Steve shudders. He always does, when Bucky touches him like this. “I don’t wanna be fightin’ with my best guy right now.”

“M’not your best guy,” Steve grumbles, though he knows it’s weak. This is everything he’s ever wanted, and he can’t even pretend to be upset. He takes a deep breath, mostly to build courage. “If I’m your best guy, it’d make you my best man, y’know.”

“Of course I know that, Stevie,” Bucky says, his voice dropping lower as he brings his hips flush to Steve’s ass. God, it feels better than it should, such a simple touch.

“Is that what’s got you all sour?” Bucky asks, easily hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder as he slips his hands under the hem of Steve’s t-shirt to splay out over his bare belly. “I know we ain’t never talked about it, but I thought you knew I was all yours, Stevie.”

Steve turns in Bucky’s arms, then, and he can’t keep the shock from showing on his face. Bucky gives him a lopsided smile, his flirting smile, and Steve rolls his eyes, even though his heart feels fit to burst. The words themselves are enough to make Steve’s whole world feel brighter, and the way Bucky has begun to sway them back and forth makes Steve’s chest warm.

“All mine, huh? And how’d lil’ ole me land such a stud like you?” Steve asks, and even though his face must be red with his blush, he presses a long kiss to Bucky’s chin, his stubble catching on Steve’s lip.

“You never had to land me, Stevie. You’ve always had me.”

“Gah, you’re such a charmer, Buck,” Steve jokes even as his cheeks get warmer, and he presses closer when Bucky grabs his ass, his smile turning filthy.

“I thought you knew,” Bucky tells him with a shrug. “I don’t wake up with just anyone.”

“Oh, ‘course. Silly me, should’a known all along,” Steve says, and he lets Bucky dance them around the kitchen. He rests his head on Bucky’s shoulder, wrapping his own arms around his neck to tangle in the hair along Bucky’s nape. Steve settles into the comforting rocking, letting Bucky lead.

Steve’s never danced with no one, not with the gal’s at parties and certainly never with Bucky. There’s no tune, but that doesn’t matter to either of them. He likes it. He likes how close Bucky is holding him. His head fits neatly under Buck’s chin, and Steve closes his eyes, his chest feeling warm and his heart feeling full.

“Why don’t you go wait for me in our bed?” Bucky asks after a few more minutes of them swaying around. Steve doesn’t miss the use of the “our”. It makes him smile, and he gives Bucky a slow kiss, licking into his mouth and sucking on his tongue until Buck groans real low.

“Don’t keep me waiting long,” Steve teases, practically running off to what has been their bedroom since he first moved in.

It had taken him a while to get over the insecurities he had regarding his body. He knew he was nothing special, hell, was the complete opposite of what the dames wanted but...Bucky had never looked at him with anything other than heat in his eyes. It was heady, for Steve, to know someone as handsome as Bucky was attracted to him.

Steve wastes no time in stripping down, and he lays himself out on their—their—bed as he waits. He’s already hard, his cock standing against his belly. He doesn’t touch it—he’s always been sensitive, and if he gets himself going now, he won’t last a minute once Bucky joins him. So, he closes his eyes as he waits, and he can’t quite stop his lips from shaping up into a smile at the memory of Bucky’s words.

Bucky’s voice startles him from his thoughts when he says, “So pretty for me, Stevie.” His voice is dropped low, more of a growl than anything else, and Steve whines in response.

He’s always been loud when they’re together like this, and tonight he’s even louder than usual. It feels like he can let go in a way he never has before, because now Bucky is his, and Steve is Bucky’s, and he doesn’t have to hide how much he wants this. He makes grabby hands, and the laugh Bucky lets out is pure joy.

Steve watches, eyes hungry, as Bucky strips down, revealing long lines of muscled skin. Steve’s always been attracted to Bucky, to his crooked grin and his bright eyes. It’s no different now. Now, he gets to see all of Bucky, have all of Bucky, apparently, and it makes Steve’s dick leak as Bucky climbs onto the bed.

“C’mere,” Steve whines, knowing Bucky likes the noises he makes.

Bucky only takes one of his outstretched hands, though Steve can’t complain when the other trails up his thigh. Bucky rubs along the crease of his hip before he starts to play with Steve’s balls and god, god, Buck’s hands have always felt so good. Steve’s own are smooth, as small as the rest of his body is, but Bucky’s are big and rough. The texture of them has always felt so good against Steve’s skin, against his dick, and the roughened texture is the main reason Steve never lasts very long.

Finally, finally, Bucky leans down for a kiss, coming to a stop with his entire body blanketing Steve’s. Steve spreads his legs wider so Bucky can settle between them easier, and Bucky keeps himself supported where his elbows are rested on the bed beside Steve’s ribs, careful to never press down with his full weight. Steve leans into the kiss, sucking Bucky’s bottom lip into his mouth like he knows Bucky likes. He palms Bucky’s arms, making an appreciative noise as he squeezes the flexed muscle.

Bucky is so big and he is so, so strong. He is so many things that Steve is not and will never be, but the contrast is part of what he likes so much. Bucky is grinding into the crease of his hip when Steve manages to get his legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist, twisting his ankles together at the small of Bucky’s back. He uses the leverage to grind upwards, the sensitive head of his cock scratching against the rough hair of Bucky’s crotch.

Unlike Steve, Bucky is hairy everywhere, and he loves it. Loves to run his hands over the soft hair along Bucky’s thighs, cuddle into the thick patch on Bucky’s chest. Steve isn’t very hairy, all pale, smooth skin and bones. But Bucky likes it, likes him, in ways Steve hadn’t thought possible.

It makes it all better, and Steve has to stop the kiss because he’s panting so hard, though Bucky doesn’t really pull back, only shifts so he can press their foreheads together. This is Steve’s favourite thing to do, just rubbing together, their bodies pressed so, so close, like if they tried hard enough they could become one.

Steve scratches his nails down Bucky’s back, digging deep enough to leave marks. Bucky curses, his back arching and Steve grins. He had no idea if Bucky was going to like it, but the thought of leaving marks was enough to have him try, anyway.

“So good, Stevie,” Bucky moans, and he leans down to attack Steve’s collarbone. They’ve never done this before, but Bucky’s teeth feel so good biting into his skin. It gets even better when Bucky sucks, and Steve makes an embarrassing noise even as his balls get tighter.

“Buck,” Steve moans out loudly when Bucky wraps a hand around both their cocks.

“Look at us, Stevie,” Bucky says into his ear, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin and it pulls a moan from them both.

Steve looks down, of course he does, and nearly loses it all right there. Bucky has them both in his hand, and while Steve had felt it, seeing it is so much better. Bucky moves his head down to continue sucking at Steve’s neck, somehow managing to keep a steady rhythm as he strokes them together. Steve’s brain feels like mush, heat licking up his spine and settling low in his belly.

“Look how small ya are, Stevie.” There’s a rough edge to Bucky’s voice, and it makes Steve whine again. He’s right, though, and just the sight of their cocks pressed together is one Steve will never get tired of.

Steve is small all over, another reason he ain’t ever tried with dames, but Bucky loves it. He’s never made Steve feel ashamed about his lack of size, not like the lads used to do in school. The first time they had been together like this, naked, Steve had been so worried. They were so young, just figuring out their bodies, but Steve already knew he didn’t look like he should.

But Bucky had loved it, had nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to get closer, to get a better look. Steve hadn’t even had to touch him before Bucky was spilling, come messily shooting between them. Steve had followed, of course, and he hasn’t felt shy since.

“So much bigger than ya,” Bucky groans, speeding up his hand, and that’s it, all it takes for Steve to come, spilling between them as he cries out. He drags his hands down Bucky’s back, digging his fingers into his skin and holds on for all his worth as the world seems to explode out of his dick.

Bucky uses the wetness to slick his own cock, and his hand goes even faster. Steve’s mind has left his body, but he has enough sense left to catch Bucky’s earlobe between his teeth and tease it, just to help Bucky along a little. It works as Steve planned, and Bucky follows him over the edge, covering Steve’s belly in his spunk.

He doesn’t flop down onto Steve, never does, and instead falls to the side. They’re still all pressed together, both of them panting through the bliss. Steve feels his face slip back into a smile, happy and satisfied. He feels good, loose and pleased, and he hums with contentment.

“C’mere,” Bucky says through a mumble, and he pulls Steve onto his body, rolling onto his back so Steve has no choice but to follow and starfish over Bucky’s chest.

“Buck,” he complains, since their mess is gonna dry between them and they’ll have to peel themselves apart in the morning. Still, it’s only half hearted, and he doesn't protest further when Bucky’s arms tighten around him.

“Go t’sleep, darlin’,” Bucky tells him, his voice hardly more than a whisper—Bucky always falls right into sleep after he comes—and tonight Steve is thankful for that. He doesn’t need Bucky to see his blush, or the smile that threatens to split his face open at the endearment. Bucky’s never called him nothin’ like darling before.

He presses his smile into Bucky’s chest, and he doesn’t fight sleep when it pulls him down.

#lavenderlotion #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #fanfiction #my writing #mcu #marvel #steve rogers has a small dick

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firewolf-marvels · 7 years ago

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Sweatpants

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: semi bad writing, mutual pining, talk of someone’s private parts (no smut.. yet)

Word count: +/-1800

A/N: This is my submission for @caramell0w’s 500 followers writing challenge. Thank you so much for the extra time. I hope you like it! My prompt: It’s just your imagination. There will be a part 2 :) Gif source: xxxxx

Bucky loves to wear sweatpants, it’s the complete opposite of his Winter Soldier outfit. He likes that it’s kind of baggy but still form fitting, that he can move around with ease and mainly the softness of the fabric. He likes that the most. His favorite pair are these grey sweatpants Steve gave him. What he doesn’t know is that that particular pair leaves little to the imagination when it comes to his lower body. His thick thighs and a bulge are visible more often than not, especially when he’s at the gym working out or sparring. And that hasn’t gone unnoticed by you.

During your time with the Avengers you’ve gradually fallen for the former Winter Soldier. You’ve been friends for years now and you always had a soft spot for him and thought he was handsome, but lately your mind wandered off to more inappropriate thoughts about your friend. The fact that he loved to walk around in those sweatpants didn’t help you at all. Some days you swear you can see the outline of a certain body part you’re not meant to see. This usually results in you walking away from Bucky repeating “It’s just your imagination,” over and over to yourself. He’s your friend after all.

An example of this situation happened about a week ago. Bucky walked to the living room passing you and Nat sitting at the kitchen island, he was wearing the clothing in question. You swore you could see something move under the fabric of his sweats as he walked by. When he reached the other room you mindlessly muttered, “Does he always walk around commando?”, quickly hiding your face behind your cup of coffee, hoping Nat didn’t pick up on it when you realized that you said it out loud.

However Nat’s trained ears did hear it, “Excuse me?”, she turns to you with a knowing smirk on her face.

You wished you could disappear right on the spot, “Never mind,” you whispered feigning innocence, “It’s probably just my imagination.”

To Steve and Natasha it’s obvious that you and Bucky like each other very much and they don’t understand why neither of you ever acted on your feelings.

Bucky started to notice your walking away pattern after a couple weeks, but he tries to dismiss the feeling that it might have something to do with him. You’re his friend, one of his best friends really, and you care for each other, you would tell him if anything was wrong. Right?

The slight nagging feeling never completely fades though. He wishes you’d come to him for comfort, like you often used to with other things. Whatever this ‘thing’ is you feel you can’t tell him, he wants it gone. He wants to watch movies together, sitting close to each other on the couch or bed. And telling each other stupid jokes, to hear you laugh and to see you happy. He wants to be part of the reason you’re happy.

But he knows you and doesn’t want to bring it up if you’re not ready to tell him. So he waits.

One day you’re at the gym sparring with Nat. Steve and Bucky are working out at the other side of the spacious room. You’re moments away from winning the fight, having Nat in a chokehold on the mat when she whispers “You’re right about being able to see his junk.” Once your brain registers what she means you freeze and she slips out of your hold only to pin you face down on the mat.

When Nat lets go you lightly slap her shoulder, “That’s not fair!”

“Never said this would be a fair fight, Y/N,” She wiggles her eyebrows and looks to where the guys are doing bench presses and back to you. Both of you burst out laughing, a blush creeping on your face as you keep stealing glances of Bucky.

Bucky watches the two of you, much more interested in what’s going on between you and Nat than his workout. The music coming from the speakers is too loud for him to make out what you are talking about, but he can hear you laugh. He absolutely loves the way you laugh and stares at your lips a little longer than intended. Soon his thoughts are filled with his desire for you, the sweatpants starting to feel a little restricting on his body. When Bucky gets distracted enough he isn’t even lifting the weights anymore Steve, who is spotting for him, appears hanging over Bucky’s head. He looks at his friend knowingly, “Pal, just tell her.”

“Steve, I’m her friend. I don’t wanna ruin what we have,” Bucky almost whispers not looking away from you having fun with Natasha as he puts the weights on the bench rack.

Steve scoffs and crosses his arms, “Come on Buck, you know Y/N better than that. Even if the feelings weren’t mutual she wouldn’t cut you off.” Bucky sighs, he knows Steve is right. The men continue their workout in silence switching between spotting and doing the weightlifting.

After Nat tells you to ‘go get your man’ she shoves you in the direction of where Steve and Bucky are before she walks off with a smirk on her face. You glare at her but she only acknowledges it by waving you goodbye.

“Hey guys,” you greet the soldiers as you walk past them to the grab two dumbbells from the rack. You catch Bucky’s gaze and toothy grin and lower your head smiling, embarrassed how your cheeks heat up so easily because of him. It doesn’t take long for you to be focused on your workout doing a routine consisting of weighted sit ups, punches and step ups with the dumbbells.

Bucky is back on the bench now lifting extra heavy dumbbells with Steve spotting him. He keeps glancing at you and as a result of not paying attention to his own movements one of the weights slips from his hand landing very close to Steve’s foot. “That’s it. I’m done,” Steve says. “We’ll continue once you’re less distracted,” he nods towards you and pats Bucky’s shoulder, “Just talk to her, will ya?” He asks before walking out of the gym. Bucky stays put for a moment, lost in thought staring at the door Steve disappeared through.

You had heard the equipment fall but didn’t think too much of it. The guys drop or break things all the time, so it isn’t really something new and you don’t stop your exercise for it unless there is yelling involved. As the exertion of the repeated movements sets in your muscles start to ache and you begin to groan and grunt with each lift getting heavier on your body. Unlike the guys you didn’t have a serum helping you out.

A strained groan snaps Bucky’s head to your form. His eyes are glued to you as he listens to the sounds you make and he pictures it would be him causing you to make such sounds. With your body wearing down you lift the dumbbell one last time deciding it has been enough for the day. The groan Bucky hears leaving your lips at that moment goes straight to his core. His dick twitches and he readjusts it trying not to think too much about how he wishes it were you touching him. He never notices that adjusting himself left a stain on his sweats caused by a bead of pre-cum.

Figuring now is as good a time as any Bucky decides to take Steve’s advice and calls you over, “Y/N, you wanna help me out?” You put the dumbbells down, turning to fully face Bucky and raising your eyebrow silently questioning him. “Oh.. ehm.. Wanna be my spotter? Steve had, ehm, some stuff to do.” He smiles innocently.

You agree nodding, “Yeah sure.” You put the dumbbells back where you got them from and walk over to him.

With you standing at the head of the bench Bucky lays on his back winking at you, “Thanks, doll” before he grabs the heavy dumbbells and holds them in the air again. You count his presses without much thought, your eyes taking in his muscular arm and the shifting plates of his metal arm as he pushes the weights in the air. Slowly your eyes drift to his chest, the muscles visible through his shirt with each up and down movement of his arms. Wandering further down your eyes grow wide as they fall on his crotch. More specifically the stain on his crotch. You almost choke on your words, coughing when you suck in your breath.

Bucky stops and studies the weird look on your face from his spot on the bench. “Y/N, are you ok?” When you don’t answer him, he follows your line of sight to the general direction of his lower body and then looks back to you. Your eyes are still glued to the stain on his crotch. Confused and thinking he ripped his pants or something he sits, puts the dumbbells on the floor and swings his leg over the bench so he can face you and starts patting down the fabric, “What? What’s wrong with my pants?” he mutters.

When his hands reach the crotch area you see it. The perfect outline of Bucky’s penis. Your face gets flushed hot and you didn’t think your eyes could grow wider but they did. This time you were not imagining anything. Before Bucky realizes what you saw you’re mumbling some apologies about needing to leave as you start walking away from him and run out of the gym leaving Bucky behind.

A very confused Bucky quickly follows you, wanting to know if you are ok and whether he did something to upset you. He catches up with you almost immediately, cornering you at the end of the hallway. Bucky places his hands on your shoulders, using his thumbs to brush over your skin in an attempt to soothe you. “Please tell me what’s going on, doll.” he pleads. You see the concern in his eyes and avert your gaze. You feel bad for leaving but you had to get out of there. “You’ve kinda been avoiding me for weeks now, and I miss ya.” he confesses.

Why did you have to have feelings for your best friend? You laugh at yourself, and a little at Bucky, here you are hot and bothered because of him and he’s concerned about your wellbeing. He really is the sweetest man. In the hopes he gets the hint you glance down nodding at his crotch before looking at his face and dropping your gaze again in slight embarrassment. Of course you’re not that lucky and he doesn’t get the hint. “Well..?” he asks tilting your chin so he can meet your eyes.

Tags: @promarvelfangirl @after-avenging-hours @ursulaismymiddlename @eve1978 @mashroom-burrito @dangerousvikings @dani-si (if you want on or off the tag list let me know)

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #firewolf writes #caramell0w’swritingchallenge #fic: sweatpants

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paceprompting · 7 years ago

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Okay, you know what, I’m just gonna write this because it’s been in my brain nonstop for two weeks and it’s not going away any time soon.

Imagine if, during a mission, after Bucky is back and he’s well enough to at least sniper on some missions, blah blah, details, details...he sees Steve go down after taking a blast to the head. Not lethal, but enough to knock him out.

As fast as he can, Bucky is racing down to get to Steve, but doesn’t manage to get there before some goon is injecting Steve’s arm with a strange substance. Bucky throws the goon in the trees and tried to go to Steve, but he’s forced to take cover when a Hydra sniper starts firing at him, only hoping that he doesn’t target Steve.

After a moment, the shooting stops and Bucky hears over the comms that Barton managed to take the sniper out, and he rushes to get Steve. As soon as he steps out into the open, something sharp clips the side of his neck and he hears Barton cursing, “What the fuck, I got him.” But it doesn’t matter because Bucky’s vision is already fuzzy and he can’t stand.

He crumbles beside Steve.

They both wake up an indeterminable amount of time later, to the frightened gazes of their friends, but something isn’t right. Neither of them recognize any of their friends, even threatening to call the police if they wouldn't leave the alone. Steve, strangely not Bucky, starts to get violent, until JARVIS chimes in and Steve proceeds to freak out, because “what the hell was that”, and when JARVIS talks again to try and calm Steve down, Steve falls to floor, clutching his head. When the team goes to check on Bucky, he’s in a similar state and Tony decides to sedate the both of them.

Some through testing later, Tony’s determined that both Steve and Bucky think it’s 1939, that Steve isn’t Captain America, Bucky isn’t the Winter Soldier, and they both have painful breakdowns every time they encounter something modern or their brains try to process that Steve isn’t small and sickly anymore or that Bucky doesn’t just work at the docks.

For their own safety, the Avengers decide not to try and force Steve and Bucky to remember anything past 1939. Tony keeps them sedated for a few days while he builds a replica of their apartment in Brooklyn, fit with cameras to observe them, and chips to implant in their necks that tap into their memories and allow Tony to only let them see up to the point they can currently remember.

Basically, Bucky won’t see Captain America, he'll see the small, pre-serum Steve and Steve will see pre-serum Bucky without a metal arm. Both men get haircuts, especially Bucky, and Natasha rounds up some clothes that match the time period.

Once everything is set up, everyone crosses their fingers as Tony lets Steve and Bucky sleep off the last of the sedation and wake up in 1939. Thankfully, Steve and Bucky’s minds seem to accept their surroundings and they go about their day as if it were 1939. Tony or someone keeps careful watch, just in case things take a turn for the worse.

Strangely, the only weird thing that happens is Steve and Bucky’s relationship. Or lack thereof. The Avengers are so used to the in-love couple, that watching Steve and Bucky awkwardly dance around each other is bizarre. Bucky still blatantly stares at Steve, but he’ s careful to look busy when Steve starts to pay attention to him, and Steve keeps side-glancing at Bucky when he thinks he can get away with it.

The Avengers can’t get enough, and as much as Sam torments them about, he can’t stop watching the strangeness either, especially not after they start bringing in snacks and popcorn during shifts.

They also see the Steve and Bucky from before Captain America and the Winter Soldier.

Steve draws almost every day, and listens to radio shows (recordings Tony had bought online) every morning, and Bucky talks almost nonstop, teasing Steve to no end and drawling with his sweet words and charm that the team had only heard about. Bucky cooks breakfast for Steve, leaving it for him because most often, Steve slept in late. They learned the difference between Steve’s stern Bucky, and his angry James Buchanan Barnes when Bucky would actually piss him off.

They saw Steve at his worst. With both of them still thinking Steve had his old health problems, Tony thought it was too risky to keep those memories stuffed down. Even though in real life, Steve’s body was in perfect health, his mind still made him endure asthma attacks and near heart stoppages.

Before Tony finally figured out the ins and outs of whatever the two of them were injected with, Steve had technically nearly died about four times.

When Tony also created an antidote, more dilemmas occurred. With Steve and Bucky no longer stuck in the past, how exactly was the team supposed to pull them back into the future without breaking them.

And could they erase Bucky’s Winter Soldier conditioning?

Sadly, Tony, Bruce and Vision deducted that the safest thing was to have Steve and Bucky relive everything exactly the way it had happened.

So, a month in a day’s time frame. 1939 quickly became 1940. About July of that year, July 4th to be exact, Steve’s birthday, Bucky kissed Steve, what the team realized to be, for the first time. They also realized how much of a romantic Bucky truly was, because in Steve and Bucky’s memories, fireworks were going off in the distance just as they kissed.

The team nearly experience Steve and Bucky‘s first time, but ducked out of the room as Bucky went to suck Steve off in the kitchen. They did catch the only other instance in which Steve would call Bucky “James” but they would rather forget that one.

1940 turns into 1941, then ‘42, and ‘43, then ‘44 and ‘45.

Steve and Bucky have the biggest fight of their relationship when Steve learns Bucky is shipping out and hadn’t even told Steve he’d joined up. It becomes a matter of pride for both of them, and it doesn’t end on good terms.

Bucky leaves, his and Steve’s relationship hanging by a thread. He still kisses Steve on the forehead goodbye, but Steve is still asleep in bed when he does it and Steve is so angry when he wakes up to find Bucky gone.

Steve becomes Captain America and relives the shame of being a glorified showgirl before he learns about Bucky being taken prisoner.

As things start to heat up with Steve and Bucky’s memories, Tony has them half-conscious for memories like Steve fighting his way through a Hydra base camp to find Bucky, so that they’re experiencing the memories, but not reenacting them.

Steve and Bucky are fully conscious for their reunion in the military camp tent, where part of Tony’s chip for Bucky can be deactivated and Bucky can see Steve as Captain America. Steve and Bucky are awkward again, like before in 1939, but neither of them wants things to stay as they were when Bucky had been so close to dying.

They create a makeshift bed on the floor of the tent, because they can’t both fit on the little cots, and sleep by each other’s side for the night, just holding each other.

Then Bucky dies.

The night on the train passes and Tony and others remove Bucky to another room to begin reliving the horror of the Winter Soldier in a safe environment.

Steve is also taken to a safe room, where he breaks down. He collapses to the floor, tearing pouring down his face and sobs racking his body. For once as Captain America, Steve can’t catch his breath.

Steve frantically tries to pull it together by himself for an hour and a half before the chip takes him to the airplane and he’s become Captain America again, taking the plane down into the Artic.

Tony takes down a note to have someone, maybe even Bucky, talk with Steve about Bucky’s death in 1945.

From that point on, everyone thinks it best to let Steve and Bucky relive the rest of their memories to present day alone, if not fully asleep as well. Tony sets JARVIS on sentry mode to watch both men, and the team leaves them alone.

For a week, there’s incessant banging and screaming from Bucky’s room, but unless JARVIS were to tell them otherwise, the team doesn’t investigate. Steve’s room is almost too quiet, and Natasha has JARVIS send her daily, even hourly, updates on his state.

Steve comes out of his room first, a little dazed still, but fully caught up to the present. He has no memory of reliving everything from 1939 to when he reemerged, but does know something went wrong on their last mission.

Wanda gives Steve a great big hug when she sees him, and then Steve really wants to know what had happened. The team lets Natasha slowly explain, and when she’s finished, Steve is speechless. His only question is whether Bucky is at least okay as he is, and Natasha tells him that Bucky is still working through his memories.

Steve starts to go off to rest some more in his bedroom, but Tony stops him and hands him a disc. On it is written 1939 - 1945 and Tony assures Steve it’s the only copy and that any other video had been thoroughly deleted from any other database in the universe.

A few days later, Bucky comes out from his safe room and keeps his distance from everyone else. He seems to have a better idea that he’d relived something traumatic and the job falls to Natasha again to carefully explain what had happened.

Bucky eventually makes his way to his and Steve’s bedroom, and finds Steve sleeping on top of the covers in sweatpants and the sweater Bucky had given him for Christmas. Bucky sits beside him and brushes his finger softly along the side of Steve’s face until he wakes.

When Steve sees him, they embrace and it’s quiet. Neither of them say a word until Bucky sees that their TV is on and paused on something that looks like the two of them.

Steve rushes to try and turn it off, but Bucky catches him and gets an explanation. Steve tells him it’s their memories, and that he’s watched the whole thing and was trying to again, but it’s a lot.

He offers to put it away somewhere where it will never see the light of day, but Bucky wants to see it. He’s still missing a lot of their life from before the Winter Soldier, even after reliving it all, and he wants to try.

So, they settle down and Steve restarts the disc.

At first, Bucky has a permanent smile etched onto his face and the two of them laugh over how awkward they look. The disc shows them a mixture of feed from the implanted chips and video from the cameras in the replica apartment.

Eventually, they end up with Bucky holding Steve from behind, arms around his chest, and his head on Steve’s shoulder with Steve sitting crisscross between Bucky’s legs.

They stop the video when Bucky goes off to war, partly because it’s midnight and mostly because Bucky won’t stop apologizing for it.

The next day, they wake up and immediately start the video again, taking the same position they were in the day before.

Bucky watches eagerly as he witnesses Steve’s memory of becoming the body of Captain America, and makes fun of him throughout the showgirl phase.

He steels himself through the memory of his torture before Steve rescued him, hand tight in Steve’s and nose buried in Steve’s neck, keeping his breath steady and slow.

They stop the video one last time when Steve starts crying as Bucky witnesses the memory of Steve breaking down after he’d lost Bucky on the train. Bucky doesn’t try to tell Steve that none of it was his fault. Instead, he wraps the both of them in their comforter and they quietly make plans to have Steve join Bucky in his therapy sessions, and maybe even have ones of just Steve.

They finish the last part of the video, both a bit emotionally worn out. They spend the rest of the day in bed, sleeping and cuddling and actually just staring at each other because they can.

#stucky #love #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve and bucky #the longest freaking thing I have ever written on tumblr #please don't steal #ask if you want to write something #my own prompt #prompt #otp #major otp #love of my live #sort of amnesia au #amnesia au #reliving their lives

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