#roger forgot to mention that he proposed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thedarkplume · 3 years ago

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throws you a very sleepy skinny steve with some cookies

AN: You had to do it to me, didn't you @autumnrose40 ? 🥴

After you sent me this ask, I came across a really beautiful piece of art from @hopelessartgeek as a birthday gift to @heyboyblogs and since that time, it's stayed with me. I knew it would be the perfect inspiration for your ask. I hope you like it!

Poem Used: When I Too Long Have Looked Upon Your Face by Edith St. Vincent Millay

Disclaimer: The characters within this story are the property of Marvel Comics and Disney. I only own my OC and Bette Davis the Beagle.

Special shoutout to @firefly-graphics for that cute little heart divider and I want to thank @nellblazer for inspiring me. You know how much I love Check Out Anytime You Like, and I was completely obsessed with your depiction of Loki, so I hope you enjoy them in this as well!

Warnings: 18+ for some language, mentions of past cheating and pregnancy, one genderbent Marvel character, pansexual reader, slightly skeevy Bucky, and insecure Steve.

The first time you saw Steve Rogers was in the dog park down the street from your apartment. He was sitting under a tree with a sketchpad in his lap. You saw him there a lot. Sometimes, he was with a handsome brunette. Sometimes, he was with a beautiful redhead, but most of the time Steve was alone.

Oddly enough, Steve never had a dog with him, but he was so gracious and wonderful to the dogs who did come sniffing up to him wanting to play.

You were not stalking Steve, per se. You just liked looking at him. You've never seen a man like Steve Rogers before. While he was smaller than the average man, he was so handsome. A head of gold spun hair, a patrician nose, and chiseled jaw with full pink lips. He could easily be your generation's Michaelangelo's David.

"No use in daydreaming," you sigh wistfully. "Let's head back, girl." You look down at your two-year-old Beagle, Bette Davis, whose sage eyes seemed to ask, are you really going to let another day pass without talking to him? "Now, don't give me that look. I will talk to him. Soon. One day. Eventually."

With one last glance at Steve Rogers, you turned on your heels and trekked back to your apartment.

When I too long have looked upon your face,

Wherein for me a brightness unobscured

Save by the mists of brightness has its place,

And terrible beauty not to be endured,

I turn away reluctant from your light,

And stand irresolute, a mind undone,

A silly, dazzled thing deprived of sight

From having looked too long upon the sun.

Then is my daily life a narrow room

In which a little while, uncertainly,

Surrounded by impenetrable gloom,

Among familiar things grown strange to me

Making my way, I pause, and feel, and hark,

Till I become accustomed to the dark.

The opened tab on your computer of Edna St. Vincent Millay's When I Too Long Have Looked Upon Your Face seemed to speak to your soul about your infatuation with Steve Rogers. As much as you loved your ex, even she didn't have you all twisted up inside like this.

"What's it going to take for you to talk to him?" your roommate and annoying best friend perched himself on the corner of your desk, knocking over your pens.

"Scott, I've told you dozens of times, I will talk to Steve Rogers the next chance I get."

"Look, I'm all for being patient and waiting for that epic Hallmark moment, but whenever you see this guy, you look sadder than Bette Davis when you refuse to give her extra treats!"

You glare mockingly. "Are you saying I should follow in your footsteps, get down on one knee and propose to Steve as soon as he says hello?"

Scott huffed. "Loki thought it was romantic!"

"Yeah, later on. We were standing in line at Five Guys! I thought Loki was going to pepper spray you if Thor didn't kick your ass first."

Scott's mischievous eyes narrowed on yours. "Okay!" he agreed just a little too easily. "I forgot to mention it to you, but Loki's throwing a small get-together at their place. They made me promise to invite you, otherwise, they are not above dragging you out of your little burrow, hoisting you over their shoulders, and bringing you there themselves. Loki's words, not mine."

"It's not a costume party, is it? You know how much I hate dressing up." Ever since junior high when a group of these older girls invited you to a costume party that turned out to be a trap to humiliate you by dumping a bucket of rotten eggs and sour milk all over you because the head mean girl's boyfriend dared to acknowledge your existence. On your bad days, you could still hear the laughter and taunts that followed you until graduation.

Scott's eyes softened, knowing what you were thinking about. Early on when you first became roommates, you both got drunk and told each other your worst memories. "It's not a costume party. Loki's friends don't really care for those types of parties either. You can wear that dress you bought online three months ago."

You wince remembering the night you and Scott smoked a bowl after your client first asked you to scrap her story idea.

It was a pretty dress. Black, knee-length, v-neck, princess spaghetti straps, embroidered silver stars with a tulle skirt. It would be the perfect semi-formal dress.

You bite your lip, thinking it over. It had been a long time since you were able to do anything fun. This latest contract was turning into a fucking headache. Not only did your client, Antonia 'Call me Toni' Stark change the plot of the book three times, she asked you to abandon the subject altogether in favor of a new idea she had. You didn't complain because Toni Stark paid you an extra five thousand dollars each time she asked you to change the plot. Now you were reaching the halfway point and had to email her what you had so far. You kept your fingers crossed she was satisfied this time.

"Fine," you relented. "A night out does sound like a good time. When is it?"

Scott checked his watch. "Three hours from now."

"Scott!" You jump up, running back and forth anxiously to Scott's deep amusement. "Why didn't you say something sooner? What am I going to bring? Am I expected to bring something?"

"Loki loves you, but if you show up empty-handed, they're going to be passive-aggressive bitchy towards you for the next couple of months. Facts."

You swore under your breath, running to the kitchen. You breathe a sigh of relief when you realize Scott had taken the initiative to gather all of the ingredients to make homemade cookies. The cold ingredients were already room temperature.

You rolled up your sleeves to wash your hands as Scott put on David Bowie's Modern Love. You laugh as he danced around with Bette Davis in his arms and sung loudly and offkey. You knew the recipe like the back of your hand so you had no problems making both m&m cookies and regular chocolate chip.

You demanded Scott stay put to watch the cookies, not steal two or three, while you showered and changed.

After your shower, you felt refreshed and excited. You loved getting together with Loki. They were such an amazing person. The world needed more Lokis in your humble opinion.

You pulled your riotous curls upwards in a mowhawk and kept your jewelry minimal with circle pearl earrings and a pearl choker necklace. Once you slipped on your kitten heels, you hurried to the kitchen to box up the cookies.

You found Scott clenching his jaw. It was rare to see your happy go lucky, high most of the time, best friend so angry.

"What's wrong?"

"The Wicked Bitch of the East just tried to FaceTime me."

That was literally the last thing you needed right now. "Did you answer?"

"Yes, and I told her in a very gracious way to fuck off. Then I blocked her. Again."

"I'm sorry, Scott. I don't know why she won't let me go."

"Because she's still in love with you."

You scoff. "She couldn't have been too much in love with me. She let her ex get her pregnant as soon as my back was turned." You try not to think of that time and how long you spent blaming yourself, second-guessing what you could have done better to stop her from cheating on you.

"I said she was in love with you, not that she was very smart." Scott helped you box the last of the cookies, helping himself to those two or three despite your half-hearted glares.

Scott hurriedly dressed in black slacks and a green sweater with a pair of dress shoes you've never seen. "You look so dashing, Scottie!"

"Don't I though?" he preened. "Come on. We'll take my car."

With a kiss on the head to Bette Davis, you locked the door behind you and dashed behind Scott. He was carrying your cookies and if he had to keep them during the drive there would be nothing left but crumbs.

🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

Loki greeted you and Scott at the door, wearing a dress in the loveliest shade of green you've ever seen. You look away with a grin when Scott dips Loki for the sweetest, yet dirtiest kiss you've ever seen them share.

Loki's cheeks are a brilliant shade of pink when it's over. "We've only been apart a few hours, love." They're not really complaining. Scott says Loki likes to be chased. Loki turns to you, eyes bright with happiness. "I've missed you. You should come around more often."

You hug them feeling at ease smelling their perfume. "I'm sorry, Loki. I don't mean to stay away. It's just work has been so crazy and--"

"--and being around me means being around Thor." Deep down, you knew that was the real reason you stopped being around their friend group. "You have no reason to feel guilty. My brother while not intending to be malicious, played a leading role in the destruction of your relationship." Loki hooks their arm in yours leading you further inside. "He is here tonight so be forewarned."

You see him, unfortunately, holding court with a few of the other partygoers you don't know very well. You recognize the woman at his side as Jane, the new girlfriend, her best friend Darcy, Carol Danvers, and Sam Wilson.

Thor notices you and waves, albeit awkwardly. You force a smile and wave back.

"It's fine, Loki, really. I'm not mad at Thor anymore. I just have to get used to being his...friend again..." your voice trails off at the sight before you.

Steve Rogers.

Steve Rogers at Lok's party.

Steve Rogers at Loki's party laughing.

Steve Rogers at Loki's party laughing and wearing a burgundy long-sleeved shirt with the top three buttons undone, fitted jeans that made his ass look amazing and black boots.

Steve Rogers who as your eyes trailed back up from the side profile of his ass was already looking at you.

"Loki!" you squeaked. "I think I left the cookies in the car."

"You're holding the cookies, my dear," Loki said, the smirk evident in their voice. "I'm not one to mince words. Scott has informed me of your infatuation of our dear Steven Grant, and I took it upon myself to play Cupid in October."

You were so stunned to see Steve that you didn't realize Loki was taking you directly to Steve. "What am I supposed to say?"

"How about, 'hi, I'm the girl who spends her free time stalking you from the dog park! Would you care for a cookie?'" Scott appeared on the other side of you. Usually, Scott's unwavering humor was a bright spot in your day, now, not so much. "I know that look. I know you're planning a painful death for me, but once you get through what's sure to be an incredibly awkward and hysterical first meeting--"

"Scott," Loki said, sternly.

"--I will happily recount this moment when I give the person of honor speech at your wedding."

Somehow, that visual made you both more embarrassed and more relaxed. But you could not respond because you were now standing in front of Steve Rogers.

"Steven, I would like for you to meet..." Loki's voice faded to background noise. You had never been so close to him before. His eyes. His eyes were so blue with little flecks of green. He...was holding his hand out to you. Shit!

"Hi!" you say, just a little too loudly. His hand is so warm. You clear your throat and force your nerves away. "It's so nice to meet you, Steve."

The soft and slightly shy smile Steve gives you makes your heart stutter. "You, too. Loki's told me so much about you." You look around expecting to still see Loki and Scott standing by, but they both managed to sneak off while you were daydreaming. "Would you like to sit down? I don't mean to be rude, I'm just really exhausted."

"Of course, Steve." You sit side by side on the couch. "Why are you so tired?" you blurt out.

"I worked a double shift last night. I'm an orderly. Plus, I'm in school so that one day I can be a real doctor." Steve's rushed explanation made you frown. Was he implying that the work he did at the hospital was not as important as the doctors?

"You have a little while to go before I can officially call you Dr. Rogers, so what? That doesn't make your job now any less important."

Steve looks at you. Really looks at you. He smiles still a little shy, but more awake now. "Loki went all out to have this thing catered. Would you like me to get you something?"

You smile back, feeling more relaxed. "I would, thank you. Whatever you're having is fine."

When Steve leaves, you catch Scott's eye from across the room who is making pulsating heart motions towards you. You roll your eyes and look around the room. Loki outdid themselves with the Halloween decorations. Pumpkins and fog and spider webs. Aside from the catering, there were candied and caramel apples, as well as an array of Halloween-themed desserts. There was even a make-your-own taco bar for Scott. But all of these things that you would normally geek out over, failed to distract you from reminding yourself that this was not a dream and that you had finally met and spoke with the man who had consumed your thoughts like you were thrust back into high school, silently drowning in your feelings.

You shook your head, hoping that unlike in the past, you would work up the courage by the end of the night to at least ask Steve for his number. You glance in the direction where Steve wandered off to.

You find his friend in front of you. Given the way he was looking at you, you wondered if he was drunk.

"Hi?" you say uncertainly. You know him as the handsome brunette who sometimes accompanies Steve to the park, but you had no idea why he was looking at you that way.

"You must be the amazing roommate Scott keeps telling us about. James Barnes, but everyone calls me Bucky."

You shake his hand, introducing yourself. "It's nice to meet you, Bucky." You try not to be painfully awkward, but Bucky makes it hard with the way he's so blatant in eye-fucking you. "So how do you know Loki?"

"Are you sure you don't mean to ask me how do I know Steve?" His knowing smirk makes you a little uncomfortable. Bucky seems to take pity on you in that moment and answers, "I know Loki through Steve who knows Loki through Thor."

You are so proud of yourself. Your eye no longer does that little twitch whenever you hear Thor's name. You've even stopped calling him Adulterer Number One in your head. "Oh. Small world," you say lamely, wishing for a break from this crushingly awkward conversation. "Are you an orderly, too?"

That may have been the wrong thing to ask because Bucky takes the question as an invitation to sit just a little too close to you on the couch, casually throwing his arm around the back of it. "I'm an EMT actually."

"Oh, you all work together, that's nice. I wish my friends and I all worked together." Not that you really had any close friends beyond Scott and Loki.

"And what is it that you do?" the unfamiliar voice jolts you in your seat.

It was an unnerving feeling when everyone in the room seemed to know who you were and you had no idea who half of them are. You were sure the gorgeous redhead had no idea you existed, but maybe you were the one being oblivious to everyone who was not named Steve Rogers.

"I'm a writer. A ghostwriter."

"And a damn fine one, Natasha," to your relief, Loki and Scott both arrive. Neither of them look at you, however. Loki's expression is perfectly blank while they stare down the redhead--Natasha--and Scott's attention is centered squarely on Bucky. Okay, what is happening here? And damn, Steve, how long does it take to fix a plate?

"Oh?" Natasha asks, flinging her hair over her bare shoulder, crossing her legs as she perches on the arm of the couch at Bucky's side. Her fingers danced along the back of his hand absently. "Anything I know?"

"Nothing I can legally say."

"Stop being modest," Scott huffed. "She's the author of Utopia. That's why she's the most sought-after ghostwriter in all of New York."

All eyes turned to you, and it was only Steve's voice that kept you from sinking low in your seat. "You wrote Utopia?" he passed you a plate with a small cheeseburger and fries. "I knew you looked familiar!"

You spied Scott opening his mouth from the corner of your eye, probably about to tell Steve he recognized you from your dog park stalking, not the book photo, when Loki stuffed a mini brownie in his mouth. Bless them.

Utopia was your baby. It was your first full-length written novel, remixing the tale of Salem Witch, Tituba, who while in the early stages of giving birth, fled the town of Salem to create a magical door through the same tree she watched her lover hang and burn to death. That door would only be accessible to those seeking refuge from any who wished them harm. In the ultimate sacrifice, Tituba gave birth to her child and bid her younger sister raise her in that door to the other world. She returned to the town of Salem and used her magic to publicly slaughter two of the crueler slavemasters who served on the council of the trials. She was swiftly hanged and burned. Her crimes were deemed so horrific that no one questioned the absence of her child or the disappearance of her sister. Fast forward some four odd centuries later and Utopia grew to be a land where both humans and the monsters thought to exist only in myths and legends lived side by side. Interspecies relationships blossomed, children thrived, and the land prospered. The only threat came from the power-hungry Coven of Three who wished to enslave the residents of Utopia to use as an army in their quest to conquer the human race.

It was an ambitious first novel and two years later, your fans still flooded your social media pages with pleas to write a follow-up.

"You read Utopia?"

Steve's pretty blue eyes brightened. "I've read it three times. I've only read Harry Potter that much. And some R.L. Stine's."

"Oh, don't get me started on R.L. Stine! I went through all 62 of the original Goosebumps, and then I found his Fear Street and Point Horror books." You smile remembering how two weekends out of every month you would ride along with your auntie and grandmother two towns over to visit Books-A-Million in the mall. Every trip you came back with at least three books, and one of them was always an R.L. Stine and as you grew older, Stephen King.

You barely notice Scott pulling Bucky away because he wanted his medical opinion about a questionable boil on his ass or Loki needing Natasha's advice about the next party they wanted to throw in November.

You and Steve became lost in your own world talking about the books you loved and he even managed to slyly add a few questions about the main characters in Utopia.

"I can't help it. I HATE love triangles," Steve shook his head with a stubborn set to his jaw. "Ever since my mother dragged me into the unrelenting madness and trauma of Brooke, Ridge, and Taylor."

Your eyes bug out and your jaw drops. "Oh shit, you watched the Bold & the Beautiful." You laugh behind your hands. "So Merydia catching Stefan getting that 'blowjob that started the war' really pissed you off?"

"So much. So, so much. I was mad for her and ready to see Aleksander win her heart. But you, you evil little thing," Steve's playful glare made you giggle. "You tortured a nation by letting Aleks pick up the pieces and have her still cling to the hope that Stefan still loved her."

You sipped your drink before you answered. This was an issue that you and Scott went back and forth on forever before you finally made the decision to leave it open for both Stefan and Aleksander, Satyr and Orc, boyhood best friends, to be Merydia's endgame...should you write that follow-up.

"I guess I did it because when you're cheated on, sometimes you cope by thinking of the times when you were really happy together, but after a while, even those memories become tainted by the betrayal."

And of course, your luck was so exceptional that the next time you looked up, you saw her, staring at you sitting beside Steve, fury etched in her beautiful face like you had your hand down his pants in front of the party.

But you refused to give her the attention and validation she still demanded of you.

"Whatever Stefan's reasons were for crossing that line with her stepmother, Merydia will never look at him the same way. Now I'm not saying that she will just jump into a relationship with Aleksander either. It's going to take some time to undo the damage Stefan and her stepmother caused."

"But, Aleks cares enough to wait. He went against his father's wishes for him to marry that Orc princess. He pledged Merydia his sword when they face the Coven of Three. And we can't forget that epic fight between Stefan and Aleks in the Tree of Hope Tavern. She's everything he's ever wanted. Even when he stood in Stefan's shadow, Aleks never gave up hope that one day she would look at him the way he looked at her."

"You got all that from Aleksander? Compared to Stefan, he barely gets any time for the reader to get inside his head."

"Your cues may have been subtle, but they were there all the same." Steve checks his watch. "I should be heading back home. I have a double shift tomorrow."

"Steve," you didn't have much time to mourn the end of your short time with Steve when Scott suddenly appeared. "I'm crashing here tonight, would you do me a huge favor and take her home?"

You narrow your eyes at Scott when Steve readily accepts. You excused yourself to the restroom to get a handle on your nerves. You appreciate your friends efforts, but did they have to be so obvious about it?

"My god," Brunnhilde's voice behind your back made you grit your teeth. "Steve Rogers? I could see if it was Bucky you were trying to fuck, but Steve Rogers? Are you that desperate for it, baby?"

You turn around, reluctantly, to face your ex-girlfriend who was, unsurprisingly, drunk. She was as beautiful as ever, pretty brown skin, soft hair that always felt like silk around your fingers, but like you told Steve, when you're cheated on, even the good memories become tainted.

"If you're here hassling me, and Thor is partying with Jane, who's watching your baby, B?"

Brunnhilde waved away your concerns. "Valkyrie is with her grandmother," she answered dismissively. She moved closer to you, stumbling. "You didn't answer my question." There was a obvious slur in her voice and you could smell the vodka on her. "Why Steve? Out of every man here you could throw yourself at, you pick the--"

"Don't finish that sentence. What I do or don't do, stopped being your concern the minute you decided to have sex with Thor, without any consideration for my feelings, much less my health since you obviously did it without a condom, when you went back home, leaving me alone with your parents for hours who never approved of me and resented me for their darling daughter being a bisexual." You go to step around Brunnhilde, but she blocks you, grabbing your arms to keep you pinned against the sink. "Let go of me."

"Please, please, just stop being mad at me." Brunnhilde starts tearing up. She has three distinct moods when she's drunk, aggressive anger, tearful repentance, or relentless lust. "I miss you so much. You won't answer my calls, you won't message me back. I have to stalk Scott just to have him cuss me out so that I can know even if you hate me, you're still around."

"I don't want you in my life anymore, Brunnhilde." You push her hands off you. "Maybe one day that will change, but right now I want you to leave me alone."

"But--"

"I do so hate it when others feel the need to crash a party." Loki grabs Brunnhilde by the scruff of her neck, lifting her off the floor like an unruly kitten. "Steve is waiting for you, dear," Loki says to you as if they are simply about to take some trash outside and not holding a grown woman up with one hand.

You ignore Brunnhilde's cursing, threats, and flailing around. "Um, thank you, Loki."

"Don't mention it."

"Can I ask you something?" Steve seemed so unsure. In that moment, he was completely removed from the man who excitedly recounted his favorite books and told you off for not letting his favorite character get the girl in the end. "You like me, right?"

Your face warms and your heart pounds madly against your chest. "Yes, I like you, Steve."

"No, I mean...you like me, but not because I'm friends with Bucky or even Nat, right?"

You were beginning to see what Steve was getting at and you didn't like it at all. "Steve--"

"I'm not blaming you or anything if you like them more. I still really want to be your friend, but if they're who you really want to get to know, I would rather you say so now than later."

"How many girls used you to get to Bucky or Natasha, Steve?"

Steve's eyes glimmered painfully. "All of them. They would approach me and ask about getting together. Then before the one-on-one could happen, it would become a group thing, and before the night was over they would be going home with Buck. I lost count of how many times it happened, but I got so fed up, I just asked Bucky to intercept any girl who acted like they were interested in me."

"Did you do that tonight?" you couldn't help but be a little bit hurt. Bucky approaching you and talking to you the way he did made more sense now.

"No, I couldn't do that with you. I didn't want to. I, I saw you those times in the dog park. At first, I really thought you were looking at Bucky, because why would someone as beautiful as you even give a guy like me a second glance? I'm no Thor and I know that I will never be Bucky. That's my cross to bear, you know? But then Loki tells me that there was this really nice girl that they wanted to set me up with. I told myself I was not going to get my hopes up like that again, but when you walked in tonight, I knew you were worth the risk."

"Steve, there is a lot that I have to say about Bucky and Natasha for screwing those girls instead of putting them in their place for using you like that, but I know you love them so I'll just have to settle for making them the bad guys in my next book and offing them." That got him to laugh. "But tonight, in spite of our friends butting in and my crazy ass ex being a drunken little shit, it was us. It was me and you making our own moment the same as I've been wanting since the first time I saw you." You take a step closer to Steve, your hands pressing against his chest. Steve answers your touch by bringing his hands to your waist, a light, questioning grip that grows firmer when you curl your fingers into his shirt. "You don't look like other guys. You're not Thor and you're not Bucky, and I love that. You want to know why? Because you're Steve Rogers, and that means everything. You're a good man who treats every dog that he meets like they're his best friend. You spend your days doing everything you can to help save someone's life. I spent an embarrassing amount of time seeing you in the park and being too much of a coward to even say hi to you, and if it weren't for Loki, I would probably still be watching you wistfully until one of those girls finally wised up and sees you the way that I do. But I'm not going to waste this chance. I know I'm rambling. If I had a sheet of paper in front of me I could write you poems and sonnets telling you how much I want to be with you--"

Steve's warm lips are suddenly kissing yours and your mind goes blissfully blank. It took a long time to get to this moment, but as Steve Rogers kisses you silly on your doorstep, that wistful longing for the man sitting under the tree eases and you know that Steve Rogers is yours and you are his.

tagging: @georgiapeach30513 @autumnrose40 @stargazingfangirl18 @navybrat817 @nellblazer @maroonsunrise83 @specialk-18 @jobean12-blog @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @sweetlyscared @gotnofucks @caffiend-queen @luxeavenger @foxgloveprincess @avintagekiss24 @xxindiglow @river-soul @the-iceni-bitch @slothspaghettiwrites @boxofbonesfic @geminixevans @afriendlyblackhottie @indyluckycharlie @donutloverxo @lotusss-flowerbomb

#skinny!steve rogers #steve rogers #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #thor odinson #brunnhilde #scott lang #asks #my asks #asks answered

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lozzypoz321 · 4 years ago

Text

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in so long!!! But I am quite surprised that my current 200 followers (wow) haven’t unfollowed by now but this is my 200 celebration fic even though I’m a bit late- also I’m sorry if this sucks I just haven’t written in ages! Please bare with me! Kindly proofread by @canadianhufflepuffavenger 💗

Warnings: angst, past break up

Your real dad

Steve tightened his grip around your draw-string bag that he had convinced you to part ways with, as you, him and your mother made your way into the tower. He was dreading the reunion with Bucky after not seeing the team for about 2 weeks. You were practically bouncing on your feet to see your real dad. While Steve was there watching you treat your dad like a hero but not even spare him a glance.

Your family relationship was complicated yet simple at the same time: you hated your mom but tolerated her, loved your dad with all your heart, hated your stepdad as much as he tried, treated Peter like your brother and Thor exactly like your uncle.

Why did you hate your stepdad so much?

Well, first of all, he pretended like he was your real dad and tried to do all of the things with you that you and Bucky did together. Second, he always stole all your moms attention and made you feel like you were alone (whether he meant it or not)

The elevator door dinged, indicating that the three of you had reached your floor where currently Bucky, Thor, Tony, Natasha and Sam were hanging out, waiting for your “family”. The others were in the kitchen, trying to get a sneak taste of the food that had been ordered.

“Dad!” You yelled and raced up to the super soldier, he broke out into a grin and picked you up off the ground to invade you into a bone-breakinghug. “Hiya doll face.”

You grinned back at him and got down from his arms briefly to run across the room to retrieve your drawstring back so you could show your dad your new spiderman action figure that had been bought by your cousin Peter.

“Look! Look!”

He smirked slightly at your excited demeanour as you held up the toy as high as you could while jumping up and down for him to see. Once he’d figured out who the character was, you had already gone running off to see what Wanda and Vision had baked in one of the many kitchens.

“Hey Buck” Steve acknowledged as friendly as he could, it wasn’t that the two ‘friends’ hated each other, but there was definitely some tension in the room as the two sat parallel. Tony cleared his throat and mentioned something about having a cough as he quickly left the room.

“I better see where he got off to” Natasha and your mother said at exactly the same time, not wanting to experience what they thought was about to go down.

“Hi Steve” the older soldier greeted back, not sure what the intentions of the conversation were exactly. In the tower, the history between both soldiers and your mother was known but not really spoke of- Bucky dated your mother for quite a while (almost four entire years), and got her pregnant with you, but- as everybody was sure to know- all good things must come to an end- and the two broke up on good terms. That was before Steve Rogers himself got involved at a certain billionaire’s party when they realized they were (and this is in your mother's words) “meant for each other.”

“I’m erm, here to speak to you about something.” As if the awkwardness present in the room was no longer enough before, by now it was almost too much. Thor and Sam took the most obvious hint and left the room in search of something else to occupy their time.

“Well, you’re free to speak-“ Bucky was interrupted by the loud sound of laughing from behind the wooden door and almost instantly after a hushing sound. The two men had completely different reactions to this, Steve was utmostly confused, both eyebrows scrunching together, while Bucky’s face held a small smile. He knew exactly who was trying to eavesdrop and it just proved how much Steve did not know his stepdaughter from the fact he didn’t immediately know. “(Y/N),” he called out, the humour evident in his voice, “Parker, we know you're out there.”

“Awww, Peter you gave our secret identities up!”

By now Steve had caught on to the two of you and laughed lightly, trying to cover up the fact that his only chance to ask Bucky his question alone, was interrupted.

The wooden door creaked open, revealing Peter, dressed up in his spiderman suit for dramatic effect and you with a bandana on, which you thought made you look like a ninja and you held your action figure tightly in your left hand.

“(Y/N), you know it’s rude to eavesdrop” Steve scolded you, trying to be firm. You ignored him and shrugged your shoulders before going to follow the scent of Chinese food.

“Doll,” your dad stopped you “don’t ignore people, you know not to do that” he stood up from his spot on the sofa and began to also make his way to the kitchen, you right beside him muttering a small “okay dad.”

Steve tried not to let his heart sink as his best friend walked away. He would just have to try and get Bucky alone at another point in the night. If he didn’t get an answer, then he would have no use for the small box that was sitting in his trouser pocket.

“Bonjour,” Clint greeted the two of you as you both arrived for food, the island set up with enough plastic plates for everyone (Tony couldn’t be bothered with hiring people to wash normal, expensive ones multiple times a day)

Your mother smiled at you from the other side of the kitchen, but she was immediately confused when you didn’t smile back. The reason you had not, is because you had a feeling you knew exactly what question your stepdad had for Bucky and did not at all like the sound of it.

“Fries?” Bruce offered, tilting the box of food towards you. You nodded gratefully and grabbed a handful. The conversations at the table were mixed; Thor ranting passionately about the food at his home planet, Tony mumbling something about not even being hungry anyway (you thought he was just being salty since he didn’t get his Shawarma), Bucky and Sam having a silent argument across the table, and Peter was busy singing Christmas songs in his best Santa Claus voice.

“Have a holly jolly Christmas, and in case you didn’t seeeee” Natasha rolled her eyes dramatically at the teenager making everyone laugh.

“Hey don’t get annoyed at me! Everyone loves Christmas!”

You used to love Christmas before your parents separated and you weren’t allowed to spend the holiday with your dad.

“I don’t like Christmas,” your dad shrugged half mindedly while taking a sip of his soda. Peter looked at him like he had two heads and exclaimed in shock, “that impossible!”

“It ain’t kid,” Bucky chuckled while your mother shifted in her seat uncomfortably, realizing the reasoning.

While you worked your way through the pile of noodles, Thor’s incessant ranting came to an end, and the teenager had seemingly run out of songs, the group of superheroes decided to hang out in the living room and watch a movie before you, Steve and your mother had to go home.

“Which one?” Nat asked the room while holding up two movies, the nightmare before Christmas and the corpse bride. Both Halloween movies, neither particularly scary.

“How could one have a nightmare on the day before Christmas? Surely that is against the rules of the Holiday Christmas, that is based on happiness?” Thor asked, earning a quizzical look from you. “Stop tryna act like Shakespeare big man” Tony laughed while grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it all into his mouth.

Steve ignored the billionaire, and while no one seemed to be paying attention he directed his attention to Bucky, swallowing nervously. “Hey Buck, can I speak to you for a sec outside?”

Confusion spread over the soldier’s face for a split second before complying and getting up from the couch with Steve as discreetly as possible as to not raise suspicion from the rest of the team and you.

“What’s up?” He asked once they’d reached the hallway outside, he didn’t know what was up with the younger man but he could easily tell that he’d been acting nervous around himself and your mom.

“Um, I have a question, you don’t have to say yes or no or anything-“

“Your ranting.”

He stopped and thought for a second, wondering how to put it. “I know it’s been complicated recently, and I know this might make it worse with all your history with (Y/M/N) and (Y/N) but I really do love both of them and since (Y/M/N)’s parents passed a while ago, there’s no one to really ask for their blessing so I guess I’m here to ask you, can I have your blessing to propose to (Y/M/N)?”

Bucky stood emotionless for a second, not knowing how to react. He wasn’t sure whether to be happy for Steve and support him or to be angry. He had both reasonable attributes for each option but was cut short when he heard the sound of a door banging against its hinges on the floor above.

Both of your dad’s eyebrows scrunched together, who was that? Everyone in the tower knew not to do it because Tony despised it, and everyone with a brain knew that when Tony got annoyed, bad things happened.

Then almost instantly after the door entering the living room revealing an awkward Loki “I’m sorry to interrupt this conversation but your daughter slash stepdaughter, just ran upstairs in tears so if you could quickly wrap this little moment up, it would be greatly appreciated”

Bucky’s heart stopped, why were you crying?

He and Steve completely forgot about their previous conversation and quickly headed upstairs, nearly running Peter over in the process coming from the toilet. But just as they reached the door where you normally stayed when you came for sleepovers, Bucky stopped and put a finger to his lips.

“I think I should go in.” Instead of arguing, and saying that it would be good ‘bonding time’ to get you to like him, Steve silently agreed and let your dad go in.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he gently closed the door behind himself, instantly catching sight of you sat on the carpeted floor, furiously wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie.

“Hey, hey, don’t hurt yourself,” he took ahold of both of your wrists and set them down on your lap, “why’re you crying doll?”

Tears continued to stream unapologetically down your cheeks, you didn’t know how to tell him. That you had snuck out of the living room to see where the two had gone and then eavesdropped into their conversation, and once hearing your stepdad (who you did not like at all) was going to become a permanent part of your life, ran off crying.

“I don’t wanna talk about it” you shook your head, making him sigh. “Please tell me, I wanna know why. You trust me right (Y/N)?”

The simple nod was all he needed, yet his heart still ached. Seeing his only daughter in tears and didn’t trust him enough to tell him why? It was heartbreaking for him. “I don’t want him to marry mom,” you quietly admitted, “the only reason I’m still allowed to see you is because she thinks I still need a father figure, so now he’s gonna be here forever I won’t be- I won’t be able to see you anymore.”

He sighed deeply, trying to find a way to comfort you. “You will, I promise. I’ll always be apart of your life doll. No one can ever take you away from me because you're my daughter and I love you so so much, m’kay?”

You sniffled and wiped the final tears from your cheeks. “Okay.”

Before you could both get up and return downstairs to finish the movie, Bucky stopped you and lifted you up to whisper something to you.

Once he had finished you pulled back and nodded hesitantly, realizing that you should put your grudge behind you and face a fear.

Your dad and you returned outside, Steve waiting patiently while resting on the wall, gently smiling at you to make sure you were okay.

“Go on doll,” Bucky quietly urged, making you take a deep breath and just go for it.

“I give you my blessing to marry mom.” Steve’s heart skipped multiple beats as his brain tried to process what you had said. You’d finally accepted him into your life?

He broke out into a grin, trying to form words to thank you without seeming like this meant the absolute world to him. “Thank you (Y/N). I appreciate it so much.”

Bucky was proud of you for taking a leap and letting Steve into your life when you were scared. He realized at that moment that even if you did have a dad and a stepdad at the same time, he’d fulfilled his role already.

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#dad!bucky #bucky x daughter!reader #bucky x child!reader #steve x child!reader #steve rogers x daughter!reader #bucky barnes x daughter!reader #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #avengers x child!reader #avengers x platonic!reader #bucky x y/n

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wintervvidow · 4 years ago

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apricity

part one.

apricity - the warmth of the sun in winter

warnings: angst, blood mention, violence

pairing: bucky barnes x female oc

word count: 2,364

A/N: hi! welcome to part one of apricity! set in mid-captain america: the winter soldier. this idea has been in my head for a very long time and I am super excited to finally get it out. in this story I use the term “winter widow” , similar to the “winter soldier”, it has no correlation to bucky and natasha here. prolonged italics indicate a flashback. friendly feedback is appreciated! thank you! <3

ALSO: please know that future parts will take a WHILE. I just want to get the first part out to get the ball rolling.

MASTERLIST

The silence is what breaks her. She swears she would have been fine if it weren't for the silence, the screams of innocent bystanders no longer existed, the smell of gunpowder burning her nose and stinging her eyes. Aside from the erratic breaths coming from both their lips, you could hear a pin drop as their eyes stared at each other in a blinding intensity as Steve Rogers called out to him, “Bucky?”

The gun feels entirely too heavy in her hands as her lungs expand rapidly, eyes unmoving from the ghost of a man in front of her. Except he isn't a ghost anymore. He's here, alive. James Buchanan Barnes, her Bucky, alive.

He’s clad in all-black tactical gear, metal arm glinting blindingly in the sun. His eyes are a stormy shade of blue, same as the ones that haunt her in her nightmares, not the kind blue she wishes she could have back. The Winter Soldier is the shell of the man she was in love with, the man in front of her was the man she learned to love all the same. He protected her even when he didn’t remember her, even the brainwashing couldn’t fully get rid of the love they both had for one another. Although HYDRA fought like hell to make them both forget. It never worked though, fragments of memory always littered their conscience.

His brows furrow, overgrown hair in his eyes, “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Deep down in her bones, she knew he was alive. The last time she saw him he was being wiped by HYDRA, his screams masking her disappearance into the winter weather. HYDRA searched high and low for her, yet they forgot that they were the ones to train her. HYDRA perfected her, taught her how to disappear into thin air, and that's just what she did. They went as far as to send the Winter Soldier to find her, but even he couldn’t track her. Florence was a ghost.

Florence Morozov was many things before she was an assassin; she was an immigrant daughter, a friend, a nurse, and her greatest title of all, the love of Bucky Barnes' life, his fiancée. The couple, along with the third wheel Steve, were inseparable in their younger days before the second war. Where there was one, the other two were usually not far behind.

The trio had gone to the Stark Expo the night before Bucky got shipped off to the war. That night Bucky had proposed with a small emerald ring, promising her that when he got back they'd get married, move into a little white picket fence house, and settle down. They dreamed of growing old together surrounded by their kids and grandchildren. Only that dream had been crushed under the heel of HYDRA, not long after Florence enlisted as a nurse and Steve became Captain America, notably leading the Howling Commandos. Florence worked closely along with them, acting as a medic when needed.

When Steve woke up from his 70-year slumber on ice, Florence had a lot of explaining to do. How she was alive, what she had been doing, where she had been. She told Steve what he needed to know, leaving Bucky out of the answers. She had to protect him, even if it meant lying to their shared best friend. She would do anything to protect Bucky.

Florence explained to Steve that when she fell off the train with Bucky, she had been captured by HYDRA and experimented on. She was sent to the Red Room to be trained and then sent back to HYDRA in the ‘50s. She was their puppet for 46 years, coined the name the Winter Widow before she disappeared in late December of 1991. Florence was on the run for 17 years before she was taken in by Clint Barton, joining S.H.I.E.L.D along with Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha and Florence grew to be very close over the years, the trauma they both shared bonded them. Natasha was the only one to know the full story of Bucky, every nitty-gritty detail that haunted Florence in her dreams. When Nick Fury had been killed, both Florence and Natasha immediately recognized the ballistics information, a silent agreement between the two redheads to only tell Steve what he needed to know, no more than that. Florence only told Steve that she knew the Winter Soldier, nothing more. Natasha understood her secrets, she had them herself, her response of, "That's not my story to tell, we all have secrets for a reason."

Florence quickly tracked everything up to this moment. Fury being attacked, Steve's description of the shooter, the Winter Soldier attacking them on the highway only minutes ago. And then there was the chase between the soldier and Florence, trying to divert him. And it worked, Florence had managed to distract him until he got too close, the pair of lovers engaging in hand-to-hand combat until Steve intervened.

And now here she was standing in the middle of the street with a bullet in her shoulder from none other than the Winter Soldier. Flashes of the mission in Odessa running through her mind, he had shot her in the thigh then, Natasha in the abdomen. Steve stood in shock as the ghost disappeared, leaving Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Florence to be surrounded by HYDRA agents and arrested.

Blood trickled down Florence’s shoulder as she was seated between Sam and Natasha in the back of the truck. Her shoulder felt white-hot as she grits her teeth, Sam nervously glancing at her every second. Steve sat across from them, visibly upset, lifting his head to glare at Florence, eyes cold, "You said you knew the Winter Soldier, that you two had a history, not that it was Bucky!" Steve felt betrayed, his oldest friend lying to his face for years about his best friend.

Sam angrily glared at Steve as Florence rasped her response with a shaky breath, "Steve, I'm kind of bleeding out right now. This is going to have to wait, just know I had my reasons. I did it to protect him. And you."

Florence knew this day would come. Bucky wouldn’t be a ghost forever. She fought herself internally every night, dreaming of him. It was always him; the good and bad, the Red Room, what happened after the Red Room, their mission in Romania, and every second in between. She was permanently trapped in her own personal hell.

Steve continued on, “It was him. He looked right at me and he didn’t even know me.”

Florence knew the feeling. Every time Bucky was reprogrammed, she had to convince him to loosen his grip around her throat, begging him to recognize her before he killed her. And every time he did, his eyes flashing in recognition and guilt. And then he would hold her shivering body against his in the confines of their shared cell, murmuring in her ear that he was sorry. And she knew he meant it. Even if his mind barely recognized her, his heart always did.

Sam questioned Steve loudly, causing Florence to flinch as she fell back down to reality, “How is that even possible, that was 70 years ago.” Florence felt bad for Sam, he just jumped headfirst into a dark world with more questions than answers.

“Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in ‘43. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. Florence, how are you even alive? Zola didn’t get to you before the fall?” Steve just asked the golden question.

Florence took a deep breath in, “I don’t know. There are gaps in time, I don’t remember much from it. They all said that the fall should have killed me but it didn’t. Then I became a lab rat. The end.”

Steve looked her directly in the eye for the first time the entire day, “They must have found him and…”

Natasha interrupted him, she knew where this conversation could lead, “None of that’s your fault, Steve.”

Florence shifted slightly, sharing a look with Natasha, silently thanking her for diverting the conversation.

Sam shifted beside her as another wave of blood oozed out from her shoulder, he turned to the guards, "We need to get a doctor here. If we don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck." Florence appreciated Sam’s protective and caring nature as Steve continued glaring daggers her way. Florence knew Steve wouldn’t understand her reasoning, too set in his ways of complete honesty all of the time. He didn’t understand what it meant to lie to keep those you loved safe.

The nearest guard flinched forward, flashing the taser at Sam before turning the taser on the second guard and kicking him unconscious. The guard pulled the helmet off of themselves, revealing Maria Hill, “God, that thing was squeezing my brain.” She motioned at Sam, “Who is this guy?” Everyone shared a collective sigh of relief at the sight of Maria.

After ditching the car, the team arrived at an undisclosed location. The doors of the truck opened, allowing sunlight to flood in. Steve helped Florence down from the truck, supporting her weight with ease. Blood continued to trickle from her shoulder as she leaned against him for support as Steve spoke while he half carried her forward into the building, “I’m not mad. I get why you didn’t tell me.”

Florence laughed slightly, her body weak, “Are you just saying that because I got shot and I’m currently bleeding out all over you?”

Steve scoffed, his body vibrating with the action, arm tightening around her, “No, Flo.”

Behind her and Steve, Sam called out for a doctor. People ran towards them from the opposite end of the hall, Maria Hill speaking over the sound of footsteps thundering down the hall, "Natasha, there's something you're going to wanna see. Steve, get Florence patched up."

The group broke apart for a short period of time, Natasha reappearing with a hopeful expression on her face as Florence grimaced in pain next to the doctor stitching her up, "Fury is alive."

All eyes remained on Natasha as she explained how Fury was alive, a medication Bruce Banner had come up with did the trick to fake his death. Florence looked to Sam as he digested this information, he didn’t know what he got himself into. She could feel Steve's eyes boring into her head, but she didn't dare look. Her mind was a constant loop of Bucky.

Flashback:

His calloused hand led her through the crowd of people, Steve trailing far behind. The trio had just gotten finished dancing and now they were wandering aimlessly through the busy streets of Queens. The air was brisk as it blew through Florence’s auburn hair, her dress fluttering around her calves. Bucky stopped in front of a movie theater, the lights casting a warm glow over his face as he turned to face the girl. Her cheeks were blushed pink from the chill of the air and a smile had been permanently etched on her face all night.

The news that Bucky was being shipped off in the morning loomed over them like a rain cloud but Bucky was determined to keep her smiling; at least until the morning. His hand abandoned hers, reaching down to fish in his pocket. He found what he was looking for quickly, the velvet box small in his hand. Florence gasped at soon as the box came into the light, tears welling up in her eyes. She knew what this was, she accidentally stumbled upon it when she was putting away clothes last week. A small emerald ring.

Bucky knelt down on one knee, flipping the box open, “Flo, you’ve been by my side through everything. You’re my best girl, always there keeping me in line. I love you more than words can say. I know I leave tomorrow and I should have done this years ago, but will you make me that luckiest man on earth and marry me?”

Florence flew into Bucky’s arms in a flurry of kisses and agreements, Bucky lifting her up and twirling her. He gently set her back on the ground, slipping the ring on her finger as she giggled. Bucky met her eyes, tears glimmering in them, “I promise you, when I get back you and I will get married, we’ll buy a house and we’ll make it a happy home; kids, dogs, a garden, all of it. I promise you.” By the end of Bucky’s promise, both he and Florence were crying in each other’s arms, each one clutching the other tightly, both hyper-aware that the future wasn’t promised.

Steve stumbled his way through the large crowd, catching sight of his two best friends hugging each other. He didn’t have the heart to break them up at the moment, so he watched on with a smile. It would all be okay.

Bucky sat in the test chair underneath the bank piecing the remnants of his memories together. He knew them. The man knew his name, or at least what he thought was his name. And he knew the girl he shot, memories of her smiling flickered through his mind. Yet they were complete strangers, their faces foreign yet home all at the same time.

Alexander Pierce was terrified of this day, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He knew of the attachment Bucky had to the Winter Widow, ever since she disappeared in ‘91, the soldier was harder to control, more agitated and violent. He screamed her name in his sleep and when they wiped him he was always mumbling about her when he became coherent. They tried to program it out of him, and when that didn’t work, they tried to beat it out of him, hoping she would vanish from his memories the way his blood washed down the drain. Nothing ever worked. The Winter Soldier was irrevocably in love with Florence Morozov and Alexander was going to use that against him.

The Winter Soldier’s mission was to kill Steve Rogers and Florence Morozov.

FEEDBACK IS WELCOMED. IF YOU ENJOYED, PLEASE REBLOG.

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dragonsareourfuture · 4 years ago

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Mello + Matt/GN!Reader — Baking

This is more crack than anything. Matt and Mello’s experiences baking with their significant other for the first time.

Mello

“I just had the best idea!” You cheered, storming into Mello’s room early in the morning to tell him the idea that popped into your head before you forgot.

Mello looked as though he had just woken up, hair still a matted mess and dark circles below his eyes. “Hmm?” He mumbled, seated at his desk and absentmindedly scribbling words on scraps of paper. You noticed that he did this whenever he was angry or stressed, which made you second guess asking him to help you with your plan.

“Well, I found out that today is Roger’s birthday, and I thought that we could bake him a cake!” You rocked on the balls of your feet, nervously awaiting a response.

“‘ We ’? No, you can do whatever you want. I’m not baking a birthday cake for that bastard.” The blond sassed.

You stepped closer to his desk, sitting cross legged on the floor and pushing your bottom lip out. “Please? If you do something nice for Roger then you could throw it back in his face whenever he tries to scold you.”

This made Mello pause. He sighed then dropped his pencil on the desk and pivoted in his chair to face you. “What kind of cake do you think he’d like?”

“Yay!” You shot up, grabbing Mello’s hand and pulling him to the kitchen.

You had most of the ingredients, the only thing missing was vanilla extract.

“Don’t worry, I know a good substitute,” Mello insisted when you informed him of your dilemma. You shrugged and began combining flour, milk, and eggs into a large bowl as the recipe instructed. You were assigned with making the actual cake and Mello was in charge of the icing.

Your arm grew tired of mixing the batter, so you set the bowl and whisk down on the counter and stretched out your aching arm. You peeked over at what Mello was up to, but his back was blocking your vision. Upon craning your neck to see him pouring a blue liquid into the icing, you grabbed his shoulder and swiped the bottle from his hands.

“Drain cleaner!? Really, Mello? This isn’t ‘Heathers’!”

“If it we’re, would that mean I’m JD and you’re Veronica?“

You roll your eyes. “It better not mean that. Now we don’t have any icing. Nice going, idiot.” You huffed, tossing the drain cleaner back into the cabinet under the sink.

“Look, we can just make more- oh.” Mello held the empty bag of powdered sugar and shrugged. “Oops.”

You wouldn’t talk to Mello for the rest of the day — not when you shoved the vanilla cake into the oven, not when you washed all the dishes by yourself, and certainly not when you both presented the icing-less cake to Roger, who was nice enough to not mention the lack of decoration.

“Maybe next time I won’t be tempted with the drain cleaner.”

“You fucking suck.”

Matt

“Aaaaand it looks as if they’ve been burnt, folks! The cupcakes have been burnt!” Matt mocked in a sports announcer voice as you pulled the steaming tray from the oven.

“That’s enough, Matt! I can’t believe I burnt another batch!” You tossed the charred blobs into the garbage can with a sigh.

“Why don’t I help?” Matt proposed, getting up from his chair and taking the cupcake tray from your hands.

“No offense, but do you have any experience with baking? I haven’t ever seen you do it.”

“I’ve seen an episode of Cupcake Wars. How hard can it be?”

You shrugged and let Matt take over.

He’d mixed the batter, humming to himself as you observed. After a minute or so of whisking, Matt shooed you out of the room, claiming that you threw off his “creative flow” when you stared like that.

At that point in time you were just ecstatic that nothing went horribly wrong yet and you trusted Matt for whatever reason, so you left the brunet to his own devices. Though, trust is fleeting and, upon conjuring up mental images of Matt’s hair on fire, you decided it would be best to at least check on your boyfriend.

You crept up to the kitchen door, peering around the corner to see not only the cupcakes out of the oven ten minutes early, but Matt eating the scolding yet uncooked batter with a spoon.

“Matt, what the hell!?” You shrieked, giving your hiding spot away and rushing up to Matt’s flour-covered self.

“What?” He asked through a mouthful of chocolate batter.

“You barely saved me any!” You scolded before pulling your own spoon from a drawer and scooping up a huge portion of the chocolate liquid from one of the tins.

#death note #death note fanfiction #mello death note #matt death note #mail jeevas #mihael keehl #x reader #x reader scenarios #matt x reader #mello x reader

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all1e23 · 5 years ago

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Between the Stars [Prologue]

Pairings: Past!Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader

Summary: Struggling with the death of your husband, you find comfort in someone unexpected.

Series warnings: CHARACTER DEATH. Grief. Overall sadness. Depression. It’s pretty angsty if I’m being honest. Things mellow out as the series goes on.

A/N: It’s a military AU which I forgot to mention because I’m an ass. Starting you out with some seriously sad shit right out of the gate. I am sorta sorry. Sorta not. @teamcap4bucky Read a preview and responded with “fucking, fuck you” so that should give you an idea of what you’re going into. There is a lot of angst but it’s not gratuitous. It’s purposeful and shows the ups and downs of grief and moving on. I think I grabbed everyone’s tags if not shoot me a message. If you like it write a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

“I’m serious, Y/n.”

“Okay,” You mocked teasingly. “You’re serious.”

Steve growled, teasing smile curling up the edge of his lips despite the frustration in his eyes. He gripped your waist and pulled you away from his duffle, ignoring your yelp of protest and settling you on his lap. His pants scratched the back of your bar legs. You hated those stupid pants, they were stiff and uncomfortable. They made him look like someone you didn’t know. Or, at least someone you didn’t want to know.

Your fingers find the soft, worn fabric of the ugly tan shirt he had to wear — Army regulation or not, it was still ugly. The fabric twisted around your fingers, pulling it from his pants, ruining his pristine appearance. Maybe if his shirt was wrinkled, he would get in trouble and not have to go. It was unlikely. He had a unit to command, but a frightened wife could dream, couldn’t she?

This was the fourth deployment the two of you have gone through together. The stupid support groups were all liars. It didn’t get easier after the first, it got harder. You knew the risks before, but now you understood, really understood what they meant. Things became second nature that shouldn’t be second nature for anyone. Like turning your television on in the morning, to see if there would be a notification officer and chaplain knocking on your door within the next eight hours. Every night that passes without a call leaves you wondering if the last time you spoke would truly be the last.

It leaves you panicked. Did you say I love you enough? Did he say it to you? Will you ever be lucky enough to hear it one more time?

But then the call comes, and everything is right for the twenty minutes you get to hear his voice.

The sparks are gone just as fast as he is.

“Hey,” Steve’s voice had lost the hard, playful edge. It was soft. The softness he used when he tried to coax you awake in the morning, or when Steve spilled the secrets hidden within that generous heart of his — the same gentleness Steve used whenever he told you he loved you.

A roughened index finger tapped under your chin and tilted your head up from where it was hiding in his neck.

“I meant what I said. This is the last one. I’m done after this.”

It was that time again. Re-enlisting. You knew Fury had attempting to convince Steve to stay and true to his word Steve would shake his head and end the conversation before they ever got far. The Army could be persuasive, though.

“You really think they will let you go?”

Steve cupped your cheek and tightened his hold on your hip, tugging you securely onto his lap, so your legs hung off one side. “They won’t have much choice. I’ve given them all I can give them.”

“B-But--”

Steve leaned in and swallowed your broken protests in a gentle kiss. You didn’t have time for more, so it was nothing salacious, but his lips lingered far longer than they should if you were in public. Thankfully, you were still home and could savor the feel of his lips. The cool air hit your barely swollen lips, and you shuddered, immediately wishing he would kiss you again. You wanted to keep that warmth for just a little longer.

“No buts. Do you trust me, Y/n?”

You searched his eyes, bright, full of hope and vulnerable like they always were when he looked at you.

“With my life. You know, I do.”

Steve grinned, and if you weren’t already in love with him, you would be falling fast.

“I promise you, Y/n. This is it. My last tour and then I’m all yours. We can do everything we said we would and finally start a family.”

You could feel your eyes burning from tears; you refused to let fall. Steve brushed a kiss under your right eye, letting you know it was okay to let them fall if you wanted.

“Do you really promise? This is the last time?” You finally whispered.

“I do. There’s nothing that could keep me from coming to you. Fifteen months, baby. I just need you to hang on for fifteen months.”

You huffed a watery laugh and wiped those insolent tears away. “I can wait fifteen months for you. I’d wait forever, Steve.”

—

“—Steven Grant Rogers. A man who was devoted to his country and his lovely wife—”

You blinked several times, your eyes focused on the dark wood five feet in front of you, and the words all ran together in your ears. You didn’t need to hear the kind of man your husband is. You knew. You knew how kind and selfless and courageous he is—he was.

A cool breeze ruffled up the edges of your black dress and left you with a chill buried deep in your bones, one that would never leave you. At least the weather had behaved. There was no rain, the sun was glowing through what little clouds were nearby. It was the kind of day Steve would have called perfect. There was nothing perfect about today, no matter how brightly the damn sun insisted on shining. You had briefly thought of having the service inside some church somewhere, but neither of you attended enough while he was living to make that an option. Sarah had argued with you, they wouldn’t care about that. No one would judge you or ask you to leave, sweetheart. Deep down, you knew that. It simply didn’t feel like Steve, and you wanted his last moments with you to be him.

Finally, you settled on the park where you met all those years ago, where he proposed, and under the tree where you vowed to love him forever seemed like the only right place to say goodbye. You don’t know how but between Sam and Nat, they found a way to make it happen. You assumed some strings were pulled, favors called in that you could never repay.

At least Steve came home to you.

Even if it wasn’t the way, he promised to come home to you.

You can’t help but glance to your left, Sam was standing there in his dress uniform, shoulders squared and face blank. If you didn’t know him so well, you would think he was simply another soldier paying respects to Captain Rogers. You knew his tells. That clenched jaw, the tightened fists, and the slow, deep breaths he took every few minutes as if he has scheduled them out. Sam’s hand startled you when it reached yours, his fingers threading with your own. He wasn’t supposed to do that, and as if he could read your mind, his shoulder shrugged, and the faintest smirk appeared.

It was nice, but you couldn’t help but feel like something— someone was missing.

“Why didn’t Bucky come?”

You should be quiet, but your silence wouldn’t change who you were burying today or the fact that you were going home alone tonight and every night from here on out. Keeping quiet wouldn’t change that you will never get to kiss or hold your husband again. Everyone in attendance will go back home to their spouses tonight, they get to leave and breathe a sigh of relief because it wasn’t them. They will go home to hold their loved ones and whisper how they won’t ever leave them the way Steve left you and make promises for more because they still have a future where promises and more exist.

So, if anyone had a problem with your whispers, they could go to hell.

“He needed to stay with the rest of the unit,” Sam whispered, tightening his hold on your hand for some reason you weren’t sure of. You’ve already heard the worst. You doubt anything Sam said at this point could hurt you. “Someone had to stay behind, and he thought it would be better for guys and… for you.”

Turned out you were wrong.

You ignored the pinching in your chest and turned back to face the preacher, your concession to Sarah though it still felt a little off. Part of you had hoped Bucky would be there to help with everything, so when the plane landed a few days before, you had been surprised to see Sam had escorted Steve back home instead of Bucky. Not because they weren’t close or because Steve didn’t love Sam like a brother. He absolutely did, but it’s always been Steve and Bucky for as long as anyone could remember. You found it hard to believe Bucky wouldn’t put up a fight to be here for goodbye.

The casket flag was slowly pulled from atop the casket, and dizziness hit you. It was nearly over. You felt your eyes fall closed, and the voices around you faded away. Everything blurred. You didn’t want this. None of this was fair. You were supposed to have forever, and now you had nothing. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. He promised. Steve promised, and he didn’t break promises!

Especially ones made to you.

“Sam?” You whispered.

You took a deep breath and opened your eyes. They were on the 8th fold. Each fold took another piece of you, just another chip of whatever was left of the person you were. Whoever that girl was, the moment that flag was in your hands, you knew you would never be that girl again.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I can do this.” You whimpered as a few tears began to fall.

“I’ll go with you—”

“No, I can’t do this… go on alone. Without him. I can’t—I just can’t.”

“You’re not alone, Y/n. We are all here for you for as long as you need.”

Everyone but Bucky.

A man you didn’t recognize, a nameless face approached you, thirteen folds between his hands, a tiny crooked hat made out of stars and stripes. Strange how something only a little bigger than your purse, could destroy the rest of your life. The man stood stoically and met your eyes as he repeated what you were sure was a well-rehearsed line he practiced many times.

“On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Army, and a grateful Nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one’s honorable and faithful service.”

You wished it could do something to ease to the ache. They were hollow words that meant nothing. Through the haze that had fallen over you, taking away the sun and the clouds, you must have reached out with shaking hands because Sam stepped forward to help support the newly added weight, guiding it into your arms. You clutched the flag against your chest, holding on to all you had left of your husband. You squeezed your eyes shut and prayed to whoever would listen, Please let me wake up now. Please, please let this be a nightmare.

No savior was coming; it wasn’t a dream, and Steve was never coming home.

Masterlist // Next

#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #past!Steve Rogers x reader #alternate universe #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #tw: character death #character death #military au #tw: military death #tw: death of a spouse

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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January 24, 2021: Speed Racer (2008) (Part 1)

Car Action Weekend Concludes!

Anime! As I’m sure Tumblr is aware, Japan’s most famous television format has spread far and wide, especially in the United States. It started on American TV with Astro Boy in 1963. A few series premiered after that, but one of the series that made the biggest splash was a little show about a boy, his girlfriend, his friend, his father, his little brother, and his little brother’s chimpanzee.

Oh, also cars or something.

Mach GoGoGo, AKA Speed Racer in the USA, was a classic series about car racing, with wacky enemies, crazy cars, and about a year’s worth of runtime. Still, it lasted for YEARS, to the extent that I remember watching it at some point in the early 2000s! But I didn’t grow up with it. The Wachowskis, however, might have.

Oh yeah, it’s THESE gals. Directors and creators of the Matrix, the Wachowskis were looking to direct a more family-friendly movie, and hopped onto a Speed Racer adaptation that’d been in development for years. Since 1992, Warner Bros had been trying to bring the enigmatic racecar driver to life, with Johnny Depp as the lead...in 1995.

He left, though, and actors Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Shia LaBeouf, and Zac Efron would be considered over the years. For the director, Julien Temple, Gus Van Sant, Alfonso Cuaron, and Hype Williams were recommended. Eventually, though, the Wachowskis would accept the job, and Emile Hirsch was brought into the project, alongside a surprising cast. But, we’ll get there.

So why Speed Racer for this month? Why not save this for Sports November? Or, better yet, why watch this at all? Honestly...I wanted to do this one. Mostly because in recent years, it’s become controversial with reviewers and critics. Why? Well, lets get into it, rather than explain here! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

Speed Racer - yes, Speed Racer (Emile Hersch), that is his ACTUAL NAME - is awaiting an upcoming race, when we get a glimpse into his past. A distracted kid at school, much to the dismay of his mother, Mom (Susan Sarandon), he’s not doing great at school, thinking only about races and his brother, Rex (Scott Porter).

In a legitimately neat touch, he daydreams being in a race, with the original Speed Racer theme song playing in the background. His daydream is bright and colorful, and looks like it’s drawn by a little kid. Which is funny, because the entire movie has a cartoon aesthetic, it turns out.

We’ll see if I get used to THAT. He gets in the car with Rex, and they go to the RIDICULOUS racetrack, holy shit. It’s like Mario Kart in here. From the track, we transition to the modern day. The world is watching, as Speed Racer tears up the track, and also as I GET A SEIZURE GAAAAAAAAH. This is an insanely colorful world with some very confusing and complicated visuals. This movie is...something, that’s for sure.

During the race, we find out that something happened to Rex 8 years ago, during which Rex set the track record. We also meet his girlfriend, Trixie (Christina Ricci), father, Pops (John Goodman), brother Spritle (Pauline Litt), and...chimpanzee, Chim Chim (Willy and Kenzie, interchangeably, YES I CREDITED THE CHIMPS). Speed Racer. I keep forgetting that this is Speed Racer.

More flashbacks to the past show us how Trixie and Speed met, as well as a STRAIGHT UP MURDER ATTEMPT WHAT

Whoof; cutthroat business, that racing stuff. Rex leaves Racer Motors as a result, and leaves Speed his car, apparently turning to the dark side by taking out other racers with increasingly dirty tactics. This lasted until a brutal crash that apparently killed him. But, if you know your Speed Racer mythos even a little...

Back to the race, where Speed is about to beat his brother’s record, but purposely slows down just enough. In any case, he wins the race, as a shadowy figure that totally isn’t his alive brother watches on.

The next morning, the family, Trixie, and road manager Sparky (Kick Gurry) are having breakfast. They’re interrupted by E.P. Arnold Royalton, esq. (Roger Allam), an executive who’s come to recruit Speed, proposing to act as a sponsor for not just Speed, but for Racer Motors. While Pops isn’t inclined to sign up with a big company, Royalton’s offer is intriguing enough for them to go to MY EYES!!!!

OH CHRIST MY EYES WHAT THE HELL

OK, look, this film is gorgeous, and also looks like Robert Rodriguez’s imagination vomited all over the screen. Seriously, I appreciate the artistry here, but...OW. And this ENTIRE SEQUENCE is an exercise in my visual tolerance for 2008-era graphics and ridiculously bright colors.

The Racers are taken for a dizzying journey through Royalton Industries, and my entire brain is melting, God. After the tour, Pops tells Royalton that, while his money intimidates him, he’s open to an alliance between RI and Racer Motors. And then, we transition from the bright and poppy world of Royalton Industries, to -

YO WHAT??? Talk about a complete opposite tone! This crime boss, Cruncher Block (John Benfield), is beating and torturing a driver, Taejo (Rain), and he’s pretty obviously bloodied. Before feeding Taejo’s hands to his pet CGI piranhas (yes, really), they’re interrupted. Also, did I mention that this office is INSIDE OF A MOVING TRUCK WHAT.

The intruder is the mysterious Racer X (Matthew Fox), who takes down their battle truck with his car’s weaponry. And I gotta say, this is a neat, if extremely wacky, battle sequence. Cruncher throws Taejo out of the truck, only for Racer X to save him and try to recruit him to stop Cruncher. He might be a bit of a vigilante, it would seem.

While Speed and Trixie have a romantic getaway - which is spoiled by an intruding Spritle and Chim Chim - a shady deal between Royalton and a competitor is taking place, revealing that he isn’t entirely on the up-and-up. The next day, Speed meets with Royalton, thinking on signing the contracts. He decides not to, citing an interaction with his father from shortly after Rex’s death, and stating that he couldn’t abandon his family like that.

Royalton’s not very happy about that, though, and taps into his inner Tim Curry something FIERCE. He monologues on the invention of the modern racing league, as well as the financial implications of races through history. In other words, racing’s about power and money, and he reveals that races like the Grand Prix are rigged from the get-go. And SMACK-DAB in the middle of that villain monologue:

A sugar high. The editing of this film is hyperactive, I swear. Forgot to mention that Spritle and Chim Chim snuck into RI with Speed to steal candy - yes, really - and discover that the cars being built by RI have dirty tricks literally built in. Speed turns Royalton down, and Royalton tells him that Speed won’t win or even place in the next race, which we cut to immediately.

Taejo from earlier is racing, and gets in a crash that he somehow survives? Speed also crashes and loses, as predicted by Royalton, which destroys the Mach 6. This leads to Racer Motors being sued for copyright infringement, disgracing them in the media. He also speaks to Ben Burns (Richard Roundtree), one of his racing heroes, and finds out that his classic race was indeed rigged in his failure. This, of course, breaks Speed’s racing spirit.

After a pep talk from Mom, Racer Motors gets a visit from Racer X and Inspector Detector (Benny Furmann), who ask Speed for help. Taejo’s asked them for help, but only if Racer X and Speed help. Unfortunately, the race is on the same dangerous track that Rex died on. However, if they win, it will cause trouble for the crime boss Crusher and his secret ally, Royalton. While Pops fiercely objects, Speed goes in secret, with Trixie as support.

Speed finally wears the classic Speed Race outfit while in the classic car, they go to the race track, and I STROKE OUT AGAIN GODDAMIVWHBROVQJQ

youtube

And somehow THIS IS ONLY HALF OF THE GODDAMN MOVIE. See you in Part 2!

#speed racer #the wachowskis #lana wachowski #lilly wachowski #speed racer 2009 #emile hirsch #christina ricci #john goodman #sarah sarandon #matthew fox #roger allam #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #user365 #mygifs #my gifs #action january

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ceealaina · 5 years ago

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Title: Hot for Teacher Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card Number: 3088 Link: AO3 Square Filled: Adopted - AU: Teacher Ship: Stony, IronBros Rating: Teen Major Tags: Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Humor Summary: Tony is the established physics teacher, Steve is the truly terrible new guidance counsellor. It's not quite love at first sight (but it's a pretty close thing). Word Count: 10,660

Tony drew in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers told you what now?”

Miles grinned at him, like he knew he was raising his blood pressure with every word. “He said that he didn’t go to university. He actually dropped out of school when he was sixteen, and took a solo road trip across all of the US before he got his GED. Said it was the best decision he ever made.”

“Of course he did.” Tony fully dissociated for a moment, staring off into the distance before he shook his head with a full body shudder. “Well, regardless of what your esteemed guidance counselor may have told you, you should very, very, very strongly consider not doing… Any of that, and definitely going to university. And uh… Maybe come to me if you need help with those university applications, cause… Jesus fucking Christ.”

In the back of the room Cassie and Kamala giggled. “Mr. Stark!” Cassie gasped, feigning shock. “You said a bad word!”

Tony just scrubbed a hand over his face. “I hate you all,” he informed them cheerfully.

By lunchtime, Tony was still seething over the fact that the new guidance counselor was advocating for dropping out of school. He had term projects to approve, but couldn’t focus on the proposals, fingers thrumming irritably against his desk. He lasted all of five minutes before he was getting up, marching down the hall to said guidance counselor’s office and knocking sharply on the open door.

“Mr. Rogers? Could I—,”

Tony cut himself off abruptly.

The thing was, he hasn’t actually met Steve Rogers before. And while he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, it wasn’t someone built like a brick house — although, he’d heard that he was friends with Barnes, that was how he’d gotten the job, so maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised. But their new guidance counselor was tall, blond, and all kinds of muscley, biceps flexing in a way too tight t-shirt as he bit into a ridiculously large sandwich. He’d jumped at Tony’s sudden arrival, turning big blue eyes up at him, and good god, that was one handsome man.

Shaking his head, Tony forced a tight smile to his face. “Could I have a word?”

He nodded quickly, frantically trying to swallow down his enormous bite, and Tony worked very hard at not imagining what else he could stuff his mouth with. Mr. Rogers scrubbed a hand over the back of his mouth, wiping off some sauce that had spilled, and did an awkward, half stand.

“Yes, yes of course,” he said, reaching his arm out. “Sorry, we haven’t met yet?”

Despite how frustrated he was, Tony couldn’t help grinning; the man was an absolute mess. He moved forward to take his hand, feeling a little swirl of satisfaction at how obviously surprised he was at the strength in Tony’s grip. “Mr. Stark -- Tony.”

“Oh yeah! Physics, right? It’s nice to meet you. I’m Steve.” He moved to pull a stack of folders off a chair. “Please, sit down. What can I do for you?”

Tony took the offered chair, leaning back against it comfortably as he eyed Steve for a long moment. “Steve, can I ask how long you’ve been a guidance counselor?”

“Uhh.” Steve shifted a little. “Not long?” He gave a crooked smile that Tony did not find endearing. “About a week and a half?”

“Yeah. That’s what I figured.” Tony sighed. “Steve, are you encouraging kids to drop out of high school?”

“What?” Steve’s eyes went wide and horrified. “No! No, of course not! I…” His gaze shifted to something guilty. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

Steve gave him a hopeful smile. “I may have mentioned something about my own… Choices... as a teenager.”

“Uh huh.” Tony gave him a ‘go on’ gesture.

“It was meant to be inspirational! They get so stressed! They’re trying to decide their entire lives when they’re only kids! So you know… I was trying to show them that not everyone has to follow the same path but also things can turn out completely differently from how you expected and it’s never too late to go back?”

“Jesus Christ,” Tony muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “Well, at least you seem to genuinely care about the kids, I’ll give you that. But Steve, we’re just trying to get them as prepared for life as we can. You can’t give them ideas like that, and you especially can’t make them think things’ll work out all hunky dory if they do.”

“Hunky dory?” Steve repeated before realizing that wasn’t really the point of what Tony was saying. “Right,” he said, looking properly chastised now. “Right, no, of course. That makes sense.”

“Okay.” Tony was lingering now, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. “Great.” He got to his feet and headed for the door before he could make things weird. “It was nice meeting you, Steve.”

Over the next couple weeks, Steve kept spotting Tony around the school. He tried not to ogle him like a creeper, but judging by the way Bucky laughed at him every time they ate lunch together, he wasn’t successful. He couldn’t help it. Tony had been like some kind of gorgeous whirlwind, and he couldn’t stop thinking about him, wondering about him.

And then, two weeks later, he was back with the same sharp knock and consternated expression. (Steve, thankfully, wasn’t stuffing his face this time.)

“Tony! What, uh… Something I can help you with? I’ve been doing everything by the book, I swear. No more epic road trip stories.”

Tony drew in the deepest breath, like a complete drama queen. “Steve. I understand a book told you to do it, but the Chamber of Secrets this is not. Please stop telling my seniors that abstinence is the only truly effective birth control method. The ones in my AP Physics class are taking it as a personal challenge to design an IUD that works as a cum trebuchet."

Steve blinked at him for a very long minute, trying to work out if he was serious, trying not to--

He burst out laughing. Full on, hand-on-his-chest, eyes streaming, can’t breathe laughter. It was a solid three minutes before he began to calm down and when he finally stopped laughing, Tony was just watching him. He was doing his absolute best to look annoyed, but Steve could see the little hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

“That’s uh… Thank you,” Steve managed, tamping down on another burst of laughter. “I really needed that today.”

“Yeah,” Tony told him dryly. “Glad I could help.”

Steve grinned back at him. “I’ll, uh. I’ll take that under consideration.”

When Tony came in the next morning, his AP students were huddled in the back corner, all giggling in that terrifying way that only teenagers could manage. He was so not feeling it -- he was still waiting for that last coffee to kick in -- but he took a rejuvenating breath and asked the question anyway.

“Okay, let’s hear it. Get it out of the way so we can get to sciencing. What’s so funny?”

This set off another round of giggling, half the kids blushing, and none of them quite looking at him. It was, finally, Riri who spoke.

“This morning Mr. Rogers told America Chavez that homosexual sex is also a 100% effective birth control method.”

Tony stared blankly out the window for a long minute. “Of course he did,” he muttered. “Okay, as thrilling as Mr. Rogers’ questionable sex ed is, let’s get started on some actual physics, hmm?”

While the kids got settled for the class, Tony took a moment to collect himself. It was quite possible that Steve was kinda a total troll.

It was quite possible that Tony kinda liked him.

Of course something got back to a parent, who complained about the school promoting a homosexual agenda. Steve didn’t get in trouble, exactly, but it was brought up in the staff meeting.

The enormous jar of rainbow-coloured condoms showed up on Steve’s desk the next day.

Tony had heard it through the student gossip line that, in addition to them being available for anyone to take as needed, he was getting students to guess how many there were in the jar, as some kind of ice breaker. If they were close, they got a mini Kit Kat bar.

He made it half a day before he was stopping in to see for himself.

Tony had prepared some semblance of an excuse for why he was there, some actual reason that the physics teacher might have had for engaging with the guidance counselor (again). But when he tapped on the door, Steve was looking up with a smile like he’d been expecting him. And then his gaze settled on the enormous jar of condoms, and Tony forgot to pretend to be there for anything else.

“What the fuck?” He couldn’t help laughing, a little incredulous. “Okay Steve, they’re teenagers. How much actual sex do you think most of them are really having?”

Steve shrugged unapologetically, but he had an absolutely shit-eating grin on his face. “I just like to be prepared. Wouldn’t want to run out.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, eyebrows arching. “Wanna guess all the flavors? None of the students have gotten close yet.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed as he blinked at the jar. “They’re not even flavored.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s the joke,” he told him, like that was supposed to have been obvious. “Fine, since you’re so smart. Guess how many there are in the jar.”

Tony glanced back over at the jar, wrinkling his nose for about half a second. “Seven hundred and fifty… eight,” he announced.

Steve blinked. “What?”

“What?”

Still leaning back in his chair, Steve stared at Tony, then stared at the jar, then stared back at Tony. Then he shot forward and grabbed the jar, upending the entire thing over his desk. Making eye contact with him, he picked up a handful and started tossing them back in the jar one at a time, counting them out loud as he went. Tony started laughing, the sound close to a giggle.

“You’re not seriously going to count them all.”

Steve gave him an imperious look. “Gotta see if you’re right. Now be quiet. You’re going to throw off my count.”

Tony knew this was ridiculous, but he couldn’t seem to make himself leave. He kept telling himself he shouldn’t be encouraging Steve, but he stayed anyway, watching and laughing as he meticulously counted out each and every condom.

He’d made it to 616 when Bucky appeared, looming in the doorway as he poked at his phone. “Hey Stevie, you ready to go for… Lunch?” He trailed off as he looked up and saw what the two of them were doing, his eyebrows going sky high. “Uh. I’ll come back. Looks like you two are gonna be awhile. I don’t know what this is annnnnnnnd I don’t think I want to.”

“It’s science, Bucky,” Steve told him snottily, not looking up from his condom count.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is not science.”

“Of course it is!”

“Right,” Bucky said. “I’m just gonna…” He pointed for the door, but neither of them even looked his way as he left again.

“It’s math, Steve, and it’s barely that,” Tony insisted. “This is... counting.”

Steve gave him a look like he was an absolute fool. “I may be a lowly guidance counsellor, but I still know what counting is, Tony. The science is figuring out whether you can actually calculate the number of condoms in the jar --,”

“I can.”

“-- Or if you were spouting shit to fuck with me.”

“I wasn’t. And it’s still math, Steve. You’ve got the volume of the jar, and then size of the condom square. Math.”

Steve stared at him for a long minute and then, without breaking eye contact, tossed another condom back into the jar. “Six hundred and eighteen.”

Tony arched an eyebrow at him. “That was six hundred and seventeen.”

Steve ended up having to start over twice, and Tony was so busy laughing at him that he didn’t realize until 2:05 that he’d missed both his lunch and his free period and was, in fact, five minutes late for his AP Physics class.

“Shit,” he yelped, hopping out of his seat. “Those kids don’t let anything go, I’ve gotta run.” He paused in the doorway just long enough to give Steve a smirk. “Let me know when you’ve proved me right!”

The kids were all scattered around the room when he got there, Riri, Harley, and Kamala giggling over something on their phones, Cassie and Kate comparing notes on homework that was definitely not for physics, and Peter and Miles experimenting with something in the corner that may or may not have been explosive. Tony shook his head, feeling a headache coming on.

“Okay, I’m sorry I’m late, unavoidable circumstances. Let’s get started, yeah?”

“Mr. Stark!” Peter called, beaming at him. Nobody made any move to go to their seats. “If you’d taken seven more minutes, we’d be legally allowed to go home.”

“That’s… Not even remotely true.” He shook his head and clapped his hands together. “Come on, children. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Shouldn’t’ve been late then,” Harley snarked, but at least they were finally heading to their seats.

It was halfway through class when there was a knock on the door, and Tony opened it to some blonde girl he vaguely recognized from Nat’s lit class.

“Message for you from Mr. Rogers!” she chirped, heading off down the hall before he could ask further. His students were focused on their readings, and Tony took advantage of the moment to open the note, frowning as he tried to decipher the writing.

758 exactly. There’s something wrong with you. Also, I owe you lunch. Thursday?

Tony sat at his desk, and managed to read it over five times before Kamala happened to look up and see him.

“Hey, Mr. Stark? Why are you grinning like that?”

As soon as his lunch period started on Thursday, Tony headed down to Steve’s office, trying to convince himself that he hadn’t been looking forward to this since he’d gotten Steve’s note. The door was open, waiting for him, and he headed inside and promptly yelped as a king-sized Kit Kat bar was launched at his head.

“What the fuck?” He flailed as he tried to catch it, somehow managing not to drop it on the ground. He wasn’t particularly graceful about it, and Steve was openly laughing at him. “What was that for?”

Steve shrugged, unconcerned. “The kids get a mini Kat Kat if they’re close in their guess. You were exactly right, so I figured you get extra chocolate.”

Tony eyed him suspiciously and ignored the little delighted thrill in his stomach. “But you didn’t know how many condoms were in the jar.”

“Okay, so I just gave everyone a mini Kit Kat. Sue me.”

Tony just narrowed his eyes further. “So is this our lunch?”

Steve actually snorted. “Do I look like I survive on giant chocolate bars?” he asked, immediately flexing his biceps and twitching a pec. Tony started laughing, couldn’t stop himself, and Steve looked immensely pleased with himself. “No, Tony. I got us sushi.” Tony felt his eyebrows creep up to his hairline, and Steve huffed. “Okay, what?”

“Nothing!” Tony said quickly. “No, I just… You don’t strike me as a sushi guy.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “And what kind of guy, exactly, do you think I am?”

Tony shrugged as Steve passed him a container of sushi. “A giant, uncultured gym bro neanderthal who knows more about planking and protein shakes than he does guidance counselloring, but somehow got a job here anyway?”

“You’re such an asshole,” Steve muttered, but he was obviously fighting a smile.

Tony shrugged. “It’s like you know me or something.” He laughed, knocking back a tuna roll. “How did you get this job?”

“Bucky. We’re old friends, and now he’s my roommate too. So when the job opened, he hooked me up.”

“I mean, everyone knows that much. I meant why here? Why a guidance counsellor? No offense Steve, but you’re kinda terrible at it.”

Steve didn’t look offended in the slightest. “Hey, I wanted to teach art, but the job was already filled and somehow administration thinks art and guidance counselling are interchangeable.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Living in Brooklyn ain’t cheap. Somewhere since high school it became trendy, I guess? It was this or baristaing at a coffee shop near my apartment, but their coffee smells like soap.”

"Yikes."

"Yikes, indeed. Anyway, enough about why I’m so terrible at my job.” Steve nodded at the chopsticks in Tony’s hand. “Eat your damn sushi, Tony. You don’t eat enough.”

Tony paused with another tuna roll halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean, I don’t eat enough?”

“Every time you come in here it’s always over lunch. And then you usually stay through lunch and your prep period, and you don’t eat anything the entire time. You need to eat more.”

“Okay, stalker.” Tony shifted a little uncomfortably. “What are you, my nonna? I eat fine.” He huffed and slunk down in his seat, pulling his sushi tray closer on the desk. Steve just blinked back at him placidly and then reached out, putting his hand over top of Tony’s.

“It’s okay, Tony. I’m a guidance counsellor. You can talk to me.”

He said it in the same way that people on television crime procedurals tell the women they find in basements that they’re with the FBI, and Tony started laughing despite himself. And then he nearly choked on a California roll when Steve started passing him glossy pamphlets on healthy lifestyle choices.

The next day Tony made a point of showing up for lunch with a huge gas station soda and an enormous bag of pretzel sticks. Steve didn’t stop grinning the entire time.

Before either of them had realized it, it had turned into something of a routine. Not every day, but usually two or three times a week, Tony would forgo his lunch or prep period, or both, and come bother Steve instead. Steve had expressed concern once, that he wasn’t using his prep periods to, you know, prep, but Tony had assured him that being a genius came with some benefits. And really, his visits had quickly become the highlight of his day, and he had a feeling that Steve was enjoying them just as much, so he wasn’t going to worry about it too much.

Once Tony had gotten over his initial concerns about Steve’s guidance counselling methods, the two of them got along ridiculously well. Tony gave Steve shit constantly but it never failed to make him laugh, and he was just as good at giving it in kind. They bickered constantly, but it was friendly and easy and familiar.

Tony had never made friends easily. He got along great with all his coworkers, but with the possible exception of Nat, they were more friendly acquaintances than full friends. When he was a kid, Jarvis had told him that he was just too smart, that the other kids would catch up to him eventually. But that hadn’t seemed to happen, even as an adult. He didn’t know if people were freaked out by his multiple degrees, or if it was the chaotic energy he gave off, or most likely, some conflagration of the above, but aside from a few close friends -- who, admittedly, he wouldn’t trade for anything in the world -- people didn’t really… Warm to him.

Steve, though. Steve was different. Almost from the beginning Tony had felt a connection with him, and while he never failed to let Tony know how impressed he was by what he could do, he never seemed intimidated by him either. Tony would never say it to his face, but he kind of adored him.

Tony popped his head into Steve’s office a few minutes before the end of the day, arching an eyebrow when he found him frowning over some a manual with stick figures doing what looked like some kind of sport -- soccer, probably. He cleared his throat, and couldn’t help smiling back when Steve looked up and positively beamed at him.

“Getting a head start on your weekend reading there, Steve?”

Steve blew out an exasperated breath, rolling his eyes and scrubbing a hand over his face. “Soccer,” he explained, confirming Tony’s suspicions. “Apparently, I’m the new coach of the girl’s soccer team.” He pouted a little. “Administration is really hard to say no to.”

Tony considered this, taking a seat across from Steve and propping his feet up on the desk. “Why isn’t Clint doing it? It is kind of his job.”

“He’s busy with archery finals, it seems.”

“Archery… Finals?” Tony repeated, blinking curiously. “We’re the only school with an archery team. They split into two and compete against each other.”

Steve shrugged miserably, and Tony tossed a pen at his forehead to get him to smile.

“Hey, come on, there are worse things you could be coaching. Those lacrosse kids are wild.”

“Yeah…” Steve rubbed at the back of his neck. “Except for two tiny little details. First, those girls are intimidating as fuck. They scare the shit outta me. And second? I… Don’t actually know anything about soccer.”

Tony snorted with laughter, before he realized Steve was serious and did his best to compose himself. “I’m sorry, how do you not know anything about soccer? You’re…” He gestured vaguely to indicate Steve’s general physique, and Steve sighed glumly.

“Yeah, I think that was the administration’s thought too. But I grew up as a scrawny art student. I know baseball, and that’s it.”

“Huh. The more you know.”

Steve groaned. “So now I’ve got to learn all these soccer rules for tomorrow, none of which make any sense to me.” He frowned down at the manual. “And aren’t there linebackers and quarterbackers and shit?”

Tony couldn’t help laughing then, not even trying to hide it. “Steve, that’s football.”

“Yeah,” Steve replied, in his ‘duh, Tony,’ voice. “Which is soccer.”

They were still arguing about the two different kinds of football when Steve realized that he had parking lot duty. Not one to admit defeat, Tony had tagged along with him. He was once again trying to explain why American football was called football (“but it doesn’t even make sense if they barely use their feet, Tony!”) when a bright, flashy convertible had pulled into the pick-up lane. Tony caught a glimpse of Steve’s confused frown before the car pulled forward enough that he could see the driver and he went stock still, grabbing at Steve’s arm.

“Honeybear?” he yelped, loud enough that a couple of the lingering students turned their way as well. Steve gave Tony a bewildered stare but Tony hardly noticed, his eyes focused on Rhodey, leaning up until he was practically out of his seat and waving his arm at him, looking delicious in a tight white t-shirt that pulled against his biceps.

“Hey, Tones! Guess who’s back, baby!”

Tony made a noise that a lesser man might have even called a squeal, but he felt exactly zero shame about it as he took off for the car. “Bye Steve, gotta go, see you Monday!” he hollered over his shoulder as he went. He didn’t bother with the door, hopping over the side and sliding into the passenger seat. Rhodey lingered just long enough for Tony to give him an enormous kiss on the cheek before the two of them sped off.

“Uh. Bye,” Steve told them empty space beside him.

“So,” Rhodey said, yelling a little to be heard as they sped down the freeway with the top down, wind whistling through the car. “Was that your big gay crush?”

Tony choked on nothing, turning his head to face him so fast that he almost gave himself whiplash. “My what?” he repeated.

Rhodey looked over at him long enough to give him a stare. “Literally every conversation we’ve had in the past few weeks has been about him, Tones.”

“That’s not the proper use of the word literally,” Tony grumbled, and Rhodey shrugged, letting it slide.

Tony couldn’t though, milling it over in his head, and when they turned into the Italian restaurant in Bridgeport, he turned to Rhodey again.

“Okay, no, so wait. Why do you think I have a crush on Steve?”

“Tones…” Rhodey gave him a fond smile. “Come on, man, we’ve been friends for how many years now? I know what you look like when you’re crushing on someone. Even if apparently you don’t.” He gave him a pointed look, snorting when Tony just rolled his eyes at him. “You talk about him all the time. And sure, some of it is ‘complaining’ about how big and beefy he is, but a lot of it is how smart he is, and how funny, and how he’ll always call you on your shit… You don’t have to actually say the words, Tony. I can just tell.”

Tony pouted at the dashboard, mulling this over. “You’re dumb,” he decided finally, ignoring Rhodey’s snickers as he climbed out of the car. “Hurry up, asshole. I’m starving. And I don’t have a crush on Steve!”

“Alright, alright, fine,” Rhodey soothed, obviously not believing him in the slightest. “Whatever you say.”

Tony shot him a glare and didn’t hold the door for him as he headed into the restaurant. After that was the usual flurry of activity when Anna spotted them from behind the cash and hollered at Roberto to come out from the kitchen so they could make their usual fuss over the two of them. He and Rhodey had found the place by accident on a Boston to New York road trip in college, and at this point they'd been coming back for fifteen years.

With all the distractions, Tony was well into the garlic bread before another thought occurred to him. “Waiiiit,” he mumbled around a full mouth. He narrowed his eyes at Rhodey, who blinked back at him over his glass of wine. “Is that why you rented the flashy convertible? And why you used the pick-up lane? You never do that, you know it’s just supposed to be for students that time of day. Did you do that so Steve would see? Because you think I’m into him?”

Rhodey shrugged, looking smug and pleased with himself. “I already know you’re emotionally stunted, but I figured if Steve hadn’t gotten off his ass and asked you out yet, maybe there was a chance he was just as bad.”

“Or, he could just be straight,” Tony pointed out which, he realized belatedly, wasn’t exactly a denial of his crush on Steve.

Rhodey just snorted. “No man could be totally straight around you, Tones. You’re a catch,” he informed him, just to see Tony try to not look all pleased and delighted. “Anyway, I figured -- assuming he’s not straight -- that it couldn’t hurt to give him something to be a little jealous of. And he was definitely gonna be jealous of me.” Rhodey lifted his arms, flexing them so his t-shirt once more strained against his t-shirt. “If you’re a catch, then I’m Moby Dick baby.” He beamed when Tony giggled into his salad. “You need me to be your big gay wingman? I’m 100% here for you, Tones.”

Tony just shook his head, still laughing. “You’re such a dumbass,” he informed him.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”

The weekend had been everything Tony hadn’t realized he needed, the two of them doing all their favourite things and generally leaving a wake of chaos wherever they went. Tony loved his life, felt very fulfilled by what he did and wouldn’t trade it for anything else. But he always missed Rhodey like a limb when he wasn’t around, and having him back again, even temporarily, set something at ease in Tony’s chest.

The only problem, if he could really call it that, was that he couldn’t stop thinking about what Rhodey said about Steve. He hadn’t brought it up again, but that didn’t stop Tony from playing it over and over again, considering the previous conversations he’d had where Steve had been mentioned, with Rhodey, but with Pepper and Happy too. And, as an extension of that, how careful he was not to bring him up when he and Nat would sneak out for gelato over the lunch break, or how he didn’t join in when Bucky would start ragging on Steve in the staff room, all, “Jesus Rogers, you already look like you could stop a helicopter with your bare hands. Maybe give the gym a rest, huh?” (although Tony did have to hide his own smile at the teasing, and a couple times had caught Steve watching him with a look that one might have even described as pleased.)

And of course, thinking about all of that led to thinking about Steve himself. He was gorgeous, obviously, Tony would have to be blind not to be aware of that. But there was also how much he found himself looking forward to spending time with him, more than almost anyone else. He still hadn’t gotten tired of him, not really, not even when they argued, and he took special pride in finding ways to make Steve laugh. Steve could have been 5’2 and 96 pounds, and he would have enjoyed spending time with him just as much.

By Sunday night, when Tony found himself lost in thought again, only to realize that he’d spent the last five minutes thinking about the very specific wrinkles Steve would get in his forehead whenever he smiled, Tony had to admit defeat.

“Fuck,” he announced to his empty living room. “I’ve got a big gay crush on Steve Rogers.”

To Tony’s credit, once he’d come to a conclusion, he wasn’t the type to sit back and wallow in it. Despite leaving him only an hour later, he grabbed his phone, dialing Rhodey’s number.

“Hey Tones.” Rhodey answered on the third ring, sounding lazy and also like he was in the middle of eating something. “Miss me already?”

“Always, honeybear,” Tony responded automatically. “But also, uh… So… You may not have been so crazy after all.”

“About your big gay crush on the guidance counsellor?” Rhodey asked, because he knew Tony like nobody else. “Obviously.”

“Shut up,” Tony whined. “You know how much I hate not knowing things.” He grinned at the warm huff of laughter that came down the line at that. “So how would you feel about… Still playing the big gay wingman?”

“I’m listening…”

“Our JROTC volunteer is out for the next few weeks, some kind of family thing, and I thought, you know… You can volunteer? Take his place for a bit? And then, you know, you and I can hang out like all the time while you’re on leave, and as an extra bonus, it might make Steve jealous.”

“I mean, there’s a big difference between that, and picking you up at school in a shiny car,” Rhodey pointed out. “Sounds kinda complicated. I’d probably end up meeting him, even. You sure you don’t just want to… Tell him how you feel?”

Tony scoffed down the line. “I know you like to offer that advice for every situation, but I want you to know that the only reason that worked for you and Carol is because she thought your dumb drunk ass needed protecting. You triggered her alpha instinct, that’s all.”

“If you say so,” Rhodey told him, but Tony could already tell he was going to say yes. “Fine. But I want you to know, it’s a stupid idea, and I’m only agreeing so I have a chance to bug you while you’re trying to work.”

Tony beamed. “And that’s why you’re my favourite.”

Somewhere along the way, Steve’s (not-so) subtle ogling of Tony had turned into a full-on crush, and that had grown until Steve was pretty sure he was half in love with the man. He was doing his best to be cool about it, but he’d never met anyone quite like Tony Stark before. He found him constantly drifting into his thoughts, despite his best efforts otherwise, couldn’t seem to stop daydreaming about them being more than friends, even when he tried to tell himself that Tony was probably straight.

Or at least, he had thought that Tony was straight, right up until Friday afternoon.

Steve knew it was none of his business. He had his own life out of work, and so did Tony, and that was fine. It didn’t stop him from driving himself crazy wondering who the hell the gorgeous man who picked Tony up from school on Friday had been, and what their relationship was. The sheer joy that had been in Tony’s voice when he’d called out to him had left Steve’s heart somewhere around his knees, made worse by the so obviously affectionate and familiar nickname. He hadn’t missed the enormous cheek kiss that Tony had given him either. And sure, a kiss on the cheek didn’t necessarily scream romantic relationship, and they could just as easily be friends. But there was an ugly part of Steve that kept rearing up, insisting that he would consider himself and Tony to be friends, and he had never gotten a kiss cheek.

By Monday morning, Steve was practically itching to see Tony. Bucky, he knew, was totally sick of him after Steve had spent the entire weekend oscillating between moping and distraction, and refusing to tell him why. But the Home Ec room was right beside Tony’s classroom, so instead of going to his own office, Steve followed Bucky upstairs and then stood outside the doorway as Bucky made sure the cooking stations were prepped for the day, talking at him from the hallway. And the second he saw Tony making his way toward his classroom, looking sleepy and still a little out of it, he turned away entirely, not noticing that he was abandoning Bucky mid-sentence.

“Hey Tony!”

It went downhill from there. Tony made a strangled yelping noise, which Steve would have found adorable if not for the way everything he was holding scattered. His bag fell from his shoulder, flap opening and sending a cascade of pens and pencils and erasers flying across the floor. The cell phone he’d been texting on hit the ground with a thud that made Steve wince, and a tumbler went rolling off down the hall, leaving behind a dribbled trail of coffee leaking from the lid.

“Oh shit,” Steve said, staring horrified at the mess for a minute before he moved to help, grabbing the tumbler as it started to roll past him and getting coffee all over his hand in the process. He ignored it, moving to help gather Tony’s other things. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Tony reassured him, already bent over and picking things up. “I was just distracted. You startled me, is all.”

“Still,” Steve insisted, and was about to explain further but he and Tony both reached for a pen at the same time, heads cracking together. “Oh god,” Steve groaned as Tony clasped a hand to his forehead with a pained noise, cursing creatively under his breath. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.” They both straightened up, and he offered Tony a rueful smile. “I was just gonna ask how your weekend was.”

“Oh!” The pain on Tony’s face melted away entirely as he smiled soft and sweet and pleased in a way that Steve didn’t think he’d quite seen before. He tried to keep his own smile normal, but all of a sudden he couldn’t remember what a smile was supposed to feel like, or what he even normally did with his face or arms or hands. Tony didn’t seem to notice. “It was really, really great. I got to spend the entire weekend with my Rhodeybear. It was just what I needed. He’s like my other half, and I missed him like crazy. Hey!” His entire face lit up. “You should meet him sometime.”

“Right.” Steve nodded as normally as he could. “Yeah, maybe. That would be… Great. I’m glad you had a nice time, Tony,” he added, at least managing to be genuine with that. “I gotta get to work, but I’ll catch you later?” He started to head for his office, and then realized he was still holding the travel mug. “Oh right, here.”

He handed it over, taking a moment to suck away a stray drop of coffee that was sliding down the side of his index finger. Then Tony made a worrying wheezing noise and Steve stopped, staring at him. “Are you alright?”

Tony nodded just a couple more times than Steve would have classified as normal. “Yup,” he said, suddenly mumbling and not quite meeting Steve’s eyes. “Just gotta…” He trailed off and darted into his classroom without any further explanation.

“Okayyyy?” Steve said.

Tony was acting weird, there was no doubt about it. Steve had assumed that after crashing into each other, they might meet for lunch as usual, but otherwise go about their day. Instead, Tony had popped into his office no less than four times that morning, every time on official business, but with fiddly little things that could have been passed along by a student messenger, or an email. But he’d also spotted Tony outside his office several other times, sometimes lingering outside his door absorbed in something on his phone, sometimes just walking down the hall just a little too casually to be entirely normal. Steve couldn’t think of another reason for him to be in this particular hallway, but Tony would look up from his phone like he hadn’t realized this was even where he was, and a couple of times Steve had glanced up just in time to see Tony’s eyes dart away like he’d been staring at him right before. The few times they’d made full eye contact and Steve had smiled at him, Tony’s return smile had been what Steve might have called shy, if it had been coming from anyone besides Tony.

His first thought was that Tony had figured out about the crush (not an obsession, whatever Bucky said) Steve had on him, and was freaked out, and that’s what was making him act so weird. But when they met up for lunch everything seemed normal between them, and Tony certainly didn’t act like someone who was freaked out. And Steve knew Tony well enough by now that he was pretty sure if his feelings weren’t returned, Tony wouldn’t hesitate to let him know -- gently, and he’d probably be real sweet about it, but he wouldn’t let Steve drive himself crazy wondering, wouldn’t give him a chance to make a fool of himself over it.

And then he thought it might have had something to do with his company over the weekend, this Rhodey guy that Steve was absolutely not jealous of, that he was the one that had Tony all twisted up in knots. Tony had sounded smitten with him, but then again, Tony was dramatic like that. It didn’t have to mean there was anything there. And that wouldn’t have explained why he was acting so weird around Steve, who didn’t even know the guy.

Which led Steve to his next thought, the one that felt a little too fantastical to be true, even if the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to fit. Because the little smiles, the almost blushes that Tony would have… What if Steve’s feelings weren’t as one-sided as he had thought? Maybe Tony had a thing for him too, and that’s why he was acting all flustered and strange? Steve knew he was probably not the most unbiased opinion, that wanting it to be true was maybe skewing his perspective a little, making him see things a certain way. But if Tony didn’t suddenly hate him -- and he was positive that wasn’t the case -- was it so crazy to think that the little glances and smiles were a sign of something more?

He felt bolstered by the idea, unable to let it go once it was in his head. He’d never been one for letting things slide, and almost immediately he made up his mind to Talk To Tony, to maybe ask if he wanted to grab coffee after work, or a drink, and then he could tell him how he felt, see if he felt the same.

His morning flew by, distracted by daydreams of what would come next. Steve had always been a visual thinker, and he could picture all too clearly the slow smile that would spread across Tony’s cheeks when he realized his feelings weren't unrequited, the way he’d duck his head and glance up through his eyelashes (a move that always drove Steve crazy). How drinks could lead to dinner, which could lead to walking him home and -- since it was Steve’s daydream, dammit -- having Tony inviting him inside. What it would be like to finally get to kiss him, to feel his skin under his fingers with purpose, instead of just a glancing brush as they shared food or walked along beside each other?

He was still daydreaming about it when he walked into the gym right before lunchtime, intending to ask Clint another question about soccer, and stopped dead.

He had been very, very wrong.

Tony was there, for some reason, but even more confusing was the fact that this Rhodey guy was with him. Not that the why of it really mattered, Steve supposed. Tony was practically hanging off the other man’s back, crooning into his ear. As Steve watched, he pressed a big sloppy kiss to Rhodey’s cheek. “Come on, platypus,” he wheedled, delight evident in his voice. Rhodey was shaking his head and pretending to be annoyed but there was a fond, pleased smile on his face and his hand came up to hold on to Tony’s arm around his chest.

Steve may have been accused of being hopelessly optimistic, but he wasn’t naive. Whatever had had Tony acting so weird before, it obviously wasn’t a crush on Steve.

Suddenly very much needing to be anywhere else, Steve turned to try and sneak back out of the gym and promptly tripped over a stray basketball. He couldn’t help cursing as he rolled his ankle, and then winced as the sound rang out through the mostly empty space.

“Steve!” Tony looked startled at his sudden appearance, doing a weird little fidgety dance before he forced himself to still and gave him a bright smile. “Come here! You didn’t get to meet him last week, come meet my Rhodeybear!”

Steve started to mumble out some excuse about paperwork or meetings, but almost instantly Tony was across the room, grabbing him by the arm and forcibly pulling him over to Rhodey, who was very obviously trying not to laugh.

“Rhodey, this is Steve, our new guidance counselor. Steve, this is Colonel James “Rhodey” Rhodes. I talked him into volunteering with the ROTC kids while he’s on leave for the next month.”

Steve managed a smile as Rhodey reached out, shaking his hand with a firm grip. “Hey man. Good to finally meet you. Tones talks about you all the time.”

He glanced at Tony over Steve’s shoulder, and something on Tony’s face made him laugh. His eyes were sharp and perceptive and Steve felt a flare of panic because oh shit, he knew. Somehow this man had figured out that Steve had a crush on his boyfriend. And the worst part was that he didn’t seem angry. There was no threat in his handshake, his smile open and friendly.

“Uh, good to meet you too,” he managed, doing his best to smile back at him and not look like he was having a complete panic attack.

There was something so effortlessly cool about Rhodey. He was, frankly, gorgeous, with his teasing smile and ridiculously well-fitting leather jacket to boot, but he seemed genuinely nice too. He could have been a total ass, throwing it in Steve’s face that he was with Tony, but there was nothing of that in his body language. Steve couldn’t help liking him immediately, and he usually had good instincts for these things. But he also couldn’t help being intimidated and more than a little jealous -- although, for a moment he wasn’t entirely sure of which one. It was definitely Rhodey; his ridiculous crush was on Tony, so of course Rhodey was the one he was jealous of. It was maybe also a little bit Tony because fuck, Rhodey was cool.

Steve was barely aware of the conversation that followed, feeling his heart sink lower every time he caught a glimpse of the besotted smile on Tony’s face. They made small talk for a few minutes, and at least he was pretty sure that he hadn’t said anything too strange, even if he sort of felt like his own face was melting. There were vague plans made for the three of them to get together for drinks or something in the next few weeks (Steve had exactly zero intention of following through on that particular idea) and then he was finally able to make his escape. Feeling like an absolute idiot, he slipped his way down the hall and back to his own office, where he shut the door firmly behind him and slunk down in his desk chair, letting his head fall against the desk with a slight bang, whining into the empty space.

After that, Steve backed off a little, not wanting to seem like he was encroaching on their relationship. He was crazy about Tony, but he wanted him to be happy, and the two of them seemed right together. And clearly Rhodey had a good effect on Tony, because after a few more days whatever seemed to be going on with him stopped too. The manic behaviour evened out as he went back to how they’d been before, if maybe slightly more awkward than they’d once been. They still met for lunch regularly, still got along stupidly well, goofing around and joking and making each other laugh. If their lunches were slightly less often than they’d once been, well, Steve supposed that made sense when Tony’s boyfriend was right there at the school with him. He should be glad he still got lunch with Tony at all.

A few more weeks, and even that slight awkwardness had faded. They were warm and familiar around each other again, their new normal somehow less and more than it had been before. Steve still had a thing for Tony, but now it felt settled into him, like it was just a part of who he was. He didn’t want to admit it, but he thought he might have settled right into being completely in love with Tony. But he could be normal around him, because that was just part of their friendship, loving Tony just a part of who he was now. He felt right being around Tony, even if there was sometimes a bittersweet ache, and he wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything.

But every once in awhile, he’d catch Tony giving him a soft, sad smile that he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to see, a look on his face that Steve might have described as just a little disappointed, and he couldn’t help wondering. Maybe if Tony had been single, and maybe if Steve had been just a little less scared, they might have been able to have something more between them.

Tony huffed out a sigh, having no idea what was going on in the movie he was watching with Rhodey. “Honeybear,” he said. “I think it’s time to admit defeat.”

“Tony Stark? Giving up?” Rhodey rolled his head along the back of the couch, giving Tony a slightly tipsy grin. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“Hilarious,” Tony told him dryly, grinning despite himself. “I’m serious. I don’t think Steve is into me. I thought he was jealous at first but…” He shrugged helplessly. “And we’re friends. Like, really good friends. He’s probably the person I trust most after you. I shouldn’t try to mess with that, right?”

“I don’t think it’s messing with it, exactly,” Rhodey told him. “Starting a romantic relationship with him isn’t necessarily better or worse than being friends. It’s just... Different.” He obviously understood Tony’s point though. “You really don’t think there’s anything there?”

Tony just shrugged again, a crooked, self-deprecating smile on his lips, and Rhodey rubbed his hand over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry man,” he told him, hauling Tony against him for a hug.

“It’s okay,” Tony mumbled into Rhodey’s neck, though his arms squeezed around his waist, holding on tight for a long minute. “Really. I love having him as a friend too, and I’ll get over the whole crush thing eventually. I’ll be okay. I always am.”

Rhodey hummed, sounding like he didn’t quite believe him. “Still. Ice cream and bourbon in the meantime?”

Tony managed a real smile then, though he didn’t let go of Rhodey right away. “Definitely.”

Steve sat alone in the restaurant, fighting a smile at the sympathetic looks he kept getting from the wait staff. He was meeting his friend Sharon for dinner after she’d been overseas for the last six months on a work contract. But Sharon was notoriously bad at personal appointments, so it was hit or miss whether she’d actually turn up or if she would cancel at the last minute again. Steve wasn’t really phased, used to it by now.

He was occupying himself with games on his phone when he heard a familiar voice. He frowned at the screen, trying to place it before he looked up and made awkward eye contact with someone he’d rather avoid, and then realized it was Rhodey. Immediately he wondered if Tony was with him, and his heart beat a little faster at the thought, even though he’d just seen him a few hours ago. Looking around for them, he smiled when he spotted Rhodey’s familiar form first. And then his heart stopped beating completely for a moment.

Rhodey wasn’t with Tony.

There was a woman with him, tall and muscular with short blonde hair. She was just as gorgeous as Rhodey, the two of them an admittedly stunning pair. She was laughing too, not quite as loud, and there was a softness in her eyes as she smiled at him. Then Rhodey’s hand came up, sliding across the table to tangle his fingers with hers, the movement familiar and intimate. He leaned forward, murmuring something soft that Steve couldn’t catch, and then she was pulling back with a wide smile.

“Check please?” she hollered with absolutely no decorum, making Rhodey burst out laughing again.

Steve ducked behind his menu, watching the two of them gather up their things. He didn’t particularly want to confront Rhodey here and now, just in case he was wrong, but fortunately (or not) they only seemed to have eyes for each other. Rhodey helped her with her jacket, making the woman snort and try to elbow him, and he kept his hand very low on her back, right on the edge of being inappropriate, as they walked to the door. Steve turned away as they walked right past the table, but he looked up in time to see them pause in the foyer, mostly out of sight, before the women fisted her hands in Rhodey’s shirt and pulled him for a slow, lingering, hungry kiss. Rhodey looked downright dazed when she’d pulled back, until she said something else to make him laugh and the two of them slipped out the front door.

Steve stared at the space where they’d been for a long time after they’d gone.

“Shit.”

Sharon did end up cancelling on him, and with Bucky away on a bonding trip with some old army buddies, Steve was left alone to stew around the apartment all weekend. Normally he’d probably have gone to Tony for advice, but that obviously wasn’t an option here and Steve didn’t know what to do.

He knew he should tell Tony; he’d want to know if it were him. But then there was the question of if he’d want Steve to be the one to tell him -- or, for that matter, if Steve wanted to be the one to tell him, which he definitely didn’t. If Tony had figured out about Steve’s crush on him, would he even believe him? He honestly didn’t know what he would do if Tony thought he was making it up to get between him and his boyfriend. He’d like to think Tony knew him better than that, but people could get weird about their significant others.

By Monday morning, Steve still had no idea what he was going to do. He had barely slept all weekend and was tired and miserable, found himself taking the long way round to his office to avoid the chance of running into Tony in the staff room.

“Wow, Rogers. You look terrible.”

Lost in thought, Steve nearly jumped at the sound of Nat’s voice. He looked up to see her sitting in her classroom, grading papers and watching him with an amused look on her face.

“Yeah,” he rubbed at the back of his neck absently. “I just didn’t sleep well.”

Some of the amusement slid off her face and she arched an eyebrow at him. “You okay?”

Steve shrugged. ”Just… Life,” he offered vaguely. Then he blinked at her, eyes going wide. “You can help me though! I… I need you to talk to Tony for me. It’s kind of a big thing. Please, Nat? I don’t know what else to do. I don’t… I’m worried he’ll hate me if I tell him, or won’t believe me, or both. But it won’t seem so… personal coming from you. Blunt honesty is your whole thing, right? Plus he’s more likely to believe you when he’s already half terrified of you anyway.”

Nat was back to looking amused, trying to follow Steve’s rambling. “And why is Tony half terrified of me?”

Steve winced. “Uh… There’s a rumor going around that you’re secretly a Russian sleeper agent?”

“The Cold War ended in 1991,” she told him without missing a beat, voice eerily atonal. “Russia and America are allies now.”

There was a moment of absolute silence before she cracked up and Steve glared at her.

“That. That is exactly why people are scared of you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she told him airily, before relenting with a sigh. “Okay, so what is it that you need me to tell Tony?”

“I… Rhodey’s cheating on him,” he blurted out all in a rush, before he could chicken out. “I saw him at dinner on Friday with this gorgeous woman, and they were very clearly together, kissing and everything, and I just… I don’t know how to tell him.

Nat stared at him, blinked twice, and then burst out laughing. Steve frowned at her, taken aback, but as Natasha kept on laughing, to the point that there were actual tears coming from her eyes, Steve got more and more cranky. Folding his arms across his chest, his frown turned into a full on glare as he waited for her to get control of herself.

“Are you done?” he asked when she finally stopped laughing what felt like five minutes later. “Cause I’d really like to know what’s so funny about all of this.”

But Natasha just shook her head, still grinning. “Let me know when you figure it out, Steve.”

By the end of the day, Steve had successfully managed to avoid Tony, and he was exhausted. He knew he couldn’t keep this up forever, and he didn’t particularly want to. He’d missed Tony today. Even on the days when they didn’t get to spend time together, there was always a smile and wave when they passed each other in the hall. This just felt weird.

Going the long way again, he made his way to Bucky’s classroom, hovering in the doorway as he watched Bucky put away the last of the materials they’d been using.

“Hey Buck?” he said after a minute.

Bucky looked up, frowning at the look on Steve’s face. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

Steve ignored that. “Remember, when we were kids, and I grabbed you before you fell off the fire escape showing off for Jenny Calloway? And you said you owed me your first born? I’m cashing in. I need you to do something for me, no questions. And if you laugh at me, I’m gonna punch you so hard your grandkids’ teeth’ll hurt.”

“Well that seems unnecessary,” Bucky drawled, leaning back against one of the work stations. “You know I’d do it if you just said please. Seriously, Stevie, you look like you’re about to pass out. What’s up?”

“Rhodey is cheating on Tony. I saw him with someone, and… They were definitely together. Can you just like… Let it slip? I’m afraid if I tell him he’ll think I’m lying, because --,”

“You’re desperately in love with him?” he asked, lips quirking up.

“Buck!” Steve looked around like Tony was suddenly going to pop out of the corner of the classroom and call him out on it. “Come on, this is serious. Don’t fucking laugh at me!”

Bucky held his hands up in surrender, and was quiet for a minute, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he was still fighting back a smile. “Right, okay,” he said, pushing off the desk and striding into the hallway. Steve’s eyes went wide.

“No, shit, wait,” he hissed. “I didn’t mean right now!” He started to follow Bucky down the hall, then stopped after a few feet because Bucky had already reached Tony’s classroom, and he didn't think he wanted to be here for this. But while Steve was debating if he could make it to the stairs before Bucky said something, Bucky knocked sharply on the side of the doorframe.

“Hey! Stevie thinks you’re dating Rhodes,” he announced, before wandering off down the hall. Steve stared after him because what the fuck, that wasn’t what he’d told him to say, and where was he even going?

Before he had a chance to process, there was a crash from Tony’s classroom and then faintly, the sound of his voice. “Did he just…?” He sounded strangled, and then he was skidding into the hallway, hair standing up about five inches from his head and eyes wild.

“Um, hi,” he said. Steve could practically see his chest heaving from here.

“Hi,” Steve said back a little stupidly.

“I’m not dating Rhodey,” Tony burst out, staring at Steve with wide eyes like he couldn’t look away. “Never have been. Well, we had an almost thing in university, but -- that’s not the point. Rhodey and I aren’t together.” He gaze shifted, looking at Steve imploringly. His tongue flicked out over his lips, and Steve swallowed hard.

“I just…” He took a couple tentative steps toward Tony. “He showed up, and you were all over him, and you had about five million nicknames for him and so… I figured…”

“Nope,” Tony said quickly. “We’re just… Like that. Rhodey is very firmly in love with somebody else. We, uh… I was helping him shop for engagement rings last week.” He took a deep breath and closed the remaining distance between them, eyes somewhere around Steve’s collarbone. “Listen, Rogers. I know Carol looks like a lesbian, but so does Clint with the wrong glasses and a slim-cut pant, so please reconsider your personal biases and trust me. It's her and Rhodey. And it's.... it's you and me. Right?"

Steve could feel the ridiculous smile splitting his cheeks. “Yeah?” he asked, a little breathless.

“I mean…” Tony looked up at him through ridiculously long eyelashes. “I’d like it to be?”

There were a million and one things that Steve could say in response to that, but he couldn’t think of a single one. Instead, he curled his hand around the back of Tony’s neck, dipping his head to kiss him softly. Tony made a soft, whimpery noise, hands coming up to clutch at the front of Steve’s shirt. He couldn’t resist deepening the kiss, letting his tongue tease against the seam of Tony’s lips for a minute before he pulled back again, just a little.

“I thought… You were acting so weird. I thought you’d figured out I had a crush on you and, you know. Didn’t know how to turn me down.”

Tony made a pained noise, and then started laughing, pressing his face into Steve’s chest. His entire body was shaking with it, and Steve couldn’t help grinning as he wrapped his hands around Tony’s back.

“I was acting weird because I had a thing for you. I figured you couldn’t possibly be interested because otherwise, why wouldn’t you have made a move? I was laying it on way too strong. I’ve never been the best at processing stuff like that. I get a little… manic.”

Steve wanted to kick his own ass, but it was hard to be upset when he finally, finally had his arms full of Tony. “Really?” he teased instead. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Tony bit his pec in retaliation — it was right there, how was he supposed to resist? — sending a full-body shudder through Steve. There wasn’t much for him to do after that but pull Tony up into another kiss, and then another, until they were making out lazily right there in the hallway.

They might have kept going forever, if they hadn’t been interrupted by a very pointed throat clearing.

“Okay, seriously guys?” Bucky protested. “I’ve been killing time with Nat for the past half hour. Can’t you do that in one of your own classrooms? Or better yet, a goddamn bedroom? Preferably not in our shared apartment,” he added with a glare at Steve.

Steve could feel his cheeks heating, but he didn’t really feel embarrassed, especially not with the smirk Tony was leveling at him. Steve shivered again, and his smirk grew wider.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said, tossing a look at Bucky over his shoulder. “We’re going. Don’t get your ponytail in a knot.” Then he caught Steve’s hand. “Can I uh… can I buy you dinner? I know a great Italian place. Not too fancy, cozy… intimate.”

Steve’s face hurt from smiling so hard. “Sounds like a date,” he said, getting a goofy little delighted giggle out of Tony.

“You know,” Tony said as they headed for the parking lot, fingers entwined. “You don’t have to be jealous of Rhodey’s nicknames. I can give you a nickname.”

Steve snorted. “I’ve heard some of Rhodey’s nicknames. I think I’m okay.”

Tony stuck his tongue out at him, softening it by standing on tiptoe to give him another quick kiss. “Oh, what about Cap? You know, like Captain America? In the old comic books? You kind of look like him, all big and blond and buff and like you could single-handedly take down a Nazi base and rescue the damsel in distress. The damsel in distress being me, obviously.”

Steve just laughed, shaking his head and happier than he’d ever been. “Tony, that is the dumbest thing I've ever heard.”

@tonystarkbingo

#tonystarkbingo2020 #tsb2020 #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #teacher au #mutual pining #get together #james rhodes #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #background carol/rhodey #fic #my fic

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years ago

Text

Silken Sails Masterlist | OFC x Multiple Marvel Characters | Pirate AU | Chapter 1 | A Life More Ordinary

Summary: Charlotte Liddell dreams of a life of adventure on the high seas. She sets sail for the Caribbean which ends up entangling her with the hunt for the lost Spanish ship Viuda Negra and untold Spanish treasures. Along the way, she crosses paths with British Navy Officer Steve Rogers and famed French pirate Loki Laufeyson. Will she keep her wits about her?

Warnings: violence, death of characters, sexual harassment, smut (sex), mentions of pregnancy, pirate typical violence

“Child, come away from the window!” Charlotte's mother’s voice rang off the walls of the small kitchen.

Rebecca Liddell was a woman made of hard work and no time for frivolity. There was a tavern and inn to run. She needed her sixteen-year-old daughter manning the fire, not staring at the window breathing in the sea air and daydreaming.

Charlotte stepped away from the window and back to the reality of her life. Her father owned the Captain’s Quarter, which meant he was often away, leaving his wife Rebecca in charge.

“Sorry, Mother.” she turned her attention to the large pot over the fire.

Her younger brother, William, stoked the flames of the hearth’s fire as she stirred the stew which would serve as the inn’s fare for the evening.

“Honestly, child…” she tutted as she set about with the business of getting ready for the dinner rush. “… I don’t understand where your head is sometimes.”

“Why can’t I go with Papa? To buy from the merchants? I’m good with numbers.” she whined.

“Charlotte Liddell!” her mother slammed the bowl against the table. “That is no way for a proper lady to speak. If anyone were to accompany your father, it would be William.”

William groaned, and Charlotte hung her head. Every week she questioned why she had to stay behind. And every week her Mother muttered about how Charlotte was such an impertinent child. Her mother worried Charlotte would never find a suitable husband, what with all the blathering on about adventures of the high sea.

Charlotte shuffled out to the public dining area to find it already bustling. For the rest of the evening, she had no moment’s rest. It was well into the evening when her mother and William fell asleep. She grabbed her cloak and slipped out the window, leaving it open for her return.

She walked with purpose to the docks at the edge of the town. Her soft shoes padded against the well-worn roads until she could hear the lapping of water against wood in the distance.

Her pace quickened until the cool sea air hit her cheeks. She inhaled the salt, and her heart raced. This is where I belong, she reflected as she closed her eyes and sat down on the wooden planks of the docks.

Charlotte rocked back and forth to rhythmic thuds of the ships moored. It soothed her better than any lullaby.

“Who goes there?” a deep voice echoed through the night air as Charlotte noticed heavy boots approaching her at a heavy clip.

She rose and smoothed out her skirt as she hustled to meet the man. It was Mr. Allen, the man in charge of the docks.

“You again,” he sneered. “How many times have you been told not to loiter about here?”

“I… I…” Charlotte searched for a plausible lie when a strong hand fell upon her shoulder.

“She came to deliver me a message.” the male voice answered. Charlotte turned to see her rescuer.

The man wore his dark blonde hair short and his clothes were simple but well made.

“And you would be?” Mr. Allen narrowed his eyes at the two of them.

“Clint Barton. From the Hawk.” Mr. Barton squared his shoulders to Mr. Allen.

The dockmaster took a step back. “My apologies, Mr. Barton.”

“It’s all right, Mr…” Mr. Barton raised an eyebrow.

“… Allen.” He puffed his chest. “I’ve been the dockmaster round these parts for 15 years. And I have been catching this one…” Mr. Allen jabbed a figure at Charlotte, who ducked behind Clint. “… sneaking around for almost as long.”

Clint chuckled. “You are a true watchman, Mr. Allen. Now if you don’t mind, I shall escort the girl home before she is missed.”

Mr. Allen nodded as he stepped aside to allow them passage into town. He glared as Charlotte walked by, her eyes never leaving the ground.

They made their way through town until they came to the darkened front of the inn and tavern.

“Thank you, sir. I owe you a debt for your kindness.” She didn’t dare look up.

“Nonsense, dear. Just save me an extra helping of the delicious stew tomorrow and consider the debt repaid.”

She nodded her head and snuck around the back to the window. Her nerves so frayed, she forgot to close it upon her return.

Rebecca woke up to a chill in the air and a sore throat.

“Who left this window open?!” she exclaimed as she latched it tight.

Charlotte wandered in to find her mother scowling. “I must have forgotten last night.”

She swatted at Charlotte. “You careless child! Are you trying to have all of us catch the death?!”

Charlotte covered her head from the blows of the rag in her mother’s hand. “I’m sorry, Mother!”

William came in coughing. Her mother glared, and she hurried out of sight to get ready for the day’s work.

As the day wore on, Rebecca and William grew more and more sick. William’s cough deepened, and soon his mother sent him to bed. Which meant the preparations took twice as long.

“Charlotte, child,” her mother beckoned her from the stove. A thin layer of sweat covered her mother’s pallor complexion. “I am not going to make it through tonight.”

Charlotte paled. She realized what that meant. And it was her fault.

“Yes, Mama. I can handle it tonight.”

Rebecca pressed a hot kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “Thank you dear.”

Charlotte nodded and smoothed out her skirts as she walked to begin the long night.

The night moved as a blur of serving, cleaning, and collecting payment. Charlotte didn’t get to rest until right before closing. The door opened, and a young man walked in.

“What can I get for you?” she asked.

She considered that the frail boy could use a fattening up. But it wasn’t her place to comment.

“A good meal, if you please.” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, mister.” Charlotte shuffled to the kitchen and heaved a large serving of the night’s stew, scrounging up some dark bread for him. She placed the food in front of him.

He tucked in, moaning at the taste. “Thanks, miss. This might be the last good meal I have for a while.”

Charlotte tilted her head in confusion.

“Midshipman Steven Rogers, reporting for duty tomorrow with the Royal Navy.”

Charlotte smiled. “I wish you well. Hopefully the meal will remind you what your service protects.”

Steve smiled, and Charlotte left him to eat. She cleaned up for the evening as the patrons filtered out. Steve waved as he left with a full belly, and Charlotte returned the wave. She gathered the dirty dishes for washing, forgetting to latch the door.

She heard the door open and turned. “Sorry, we are—”

“But you promised to save me some stew this evening.”

Charlotte smiled at the voice of Clint. “Of course, Mr. Barton.” She wiped her hands and entered the kitchen. She spooned the last of the stew and cut a thick slab of bread.

“Thank you.” Clint smiled. “Could you pour me an ale?”

Charlotte nodded and shuffled off to pour one. “Here you go, Mr. Barton.”

“Please call me Clint, Ms…”

“Charlotte Liddell.” she cast her eyes downward.

“Charlotte.” His lips curved into a smile. “The mistress of the docks.” Charlotte blushed. “Why was a young lady like yourself wandering the docks at night?”

“I enjoy listening to the sound of the oceans. The ships knocking against the docks.”

“You dream of adventure.” Clint commented into his ale. “Or would prefer the life of marriage and having children?”

Charlotte wrinkled her nose. “It would be improper to discuss.”

Clint took a large swig of ale, finishing it. “Pardon me for overstepping. It is unusual to find a young lady looking for more than a husband. You remind me of my wife.”

“Is she back at your home?”

Clint’s face fell, and she realized her mistake.

“There was a hurricane this past year in Port Royal. Took out half my crop. My wife and son didn’t make it.” He sniffled.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She turned to walk away, but Clint gestured for her to stop and sit.

“You wouldn’t. I don’t speak of them much. I had hoped to find a new wife on my travels here, but we sail in tomorrow evening and I believe my luck has run short.”

Charlotte swallowed hard. This may be her ticket out, she thought. “I wish you well on your journey.”

Clint rose and wiped his hands on his pants. “To you as well. If you think about it, the Hawk sails at dusk tomorrow. Perhaps I will see you again before we sail.” He gave a small wink as the door clicked behind him.

Charlotte latched the door and leaned against it, her head thudding on the wood. She finished the evening chores distracted. She wasn’t certain what Clint was proposing. A marriage? Adventure? The prospect of something else was enticing. Charlotte drifted off to sleep that night dreaming of the Caribbean.

“Where is your head, girl!” Rebecca yelled as Charlotte bobbled a large bowl, it shattering on the floor.

“Sorry, Mama.” Charlotte apologized as she gathered the large pieces of the now broken bowl.

“I don’t know how you expect to find a husband being so clumsy.” Rebecca tsked.

“What if I don’t wish to marry?” Charlotte commented in a quiet voice.

Her mother slammed the spoon down on the table. “Not marry!? Have you gone mad, Charlotte Liddell? How do you expect to make your way in this world without a husband?”

“Well, I thought—”

“Exactly the problem. Thinking too much. Listening to the stories of the sailors coming into the tavern.”

“But Mama—”

“Not buts, child. That was my best bowl. Go to see Mrs. Miller has one we can use. Perhaps the walk will clear your head.”

Rebecca shuttled Charlotte out the door. Ms. Miller lived across the town, and she soon passed the docks. Charlotte wandered down to where the Hawk was moored.

“Can I help you, miss?” a gruff voice called from the deck.

“I wanted to inquire as to how much passage would cost to Port Royal?”

“And who might be asking?”

“I’m asking for myself.” Charlotte stood a little straighter.

“I’m not having any single woman traveling on my boat.” the man exclaimed. “It is bad luck.”

“I would ask you to take care how you speak to my bride.” a familiar voice rang out.

Charlotte smiled as she saw Clint coming up the dock.

“Apologies Mr. Barton. I didn’t know.” the man on deck groveled.

Clint’s arm slid around Charlotte’s waist protectively.

“Thank you, sir. Now can you answer the ladies’ question?”

The man muttered a number. Charlotte turned to leave. “I owe you once again, Mr.—Clint.”

“I am at your service, Charlotte. I hoped I would see you again.”

“Now if you excuse me. I have matters to attend to.” She hurried away before Clint could ask another question.

She hurried to Ms. Miller’s and got the bowl. Charlotte ran home, careful to not break this bowl. Her mother snatched it from her hands.

“Why did you take so long?”

“I wasn’t feeling well.” she lied.

Rebecca placed the back of her hand on Charlotte’s forehead.

“You are a touch warm. Finish up the cooking and cleaning and then have a lie down.”

Charlotte nodded and set to work. She moved slowly, not wanting to finish until the evening rush started. Charlotte headed to her bed before long. Instead curling up on the bed, she grabbed a small bag and packed up a few changes of clothes along with a small pouch filled with coins to pay for her passage. The sun threatened to set at any moment and she had no time to waste.

As she pushed the window open, she heard a noise behind her.

“Mama wants to know—” William asked, stopping as he saw her bag. “Where are you going?”

“Away.” She pulled him into a quick hug. “I must hurry. Tell Mama I am still not well.”

“But—” She hugged him again.

“I will miss you, brother.” She pushed her bag out the window and soon followed, walking away from the only life she knew.

Charlotte walked at a casual pace at first, not wanting to arouse suspicion from the passing people on the streets. But as the docks came into view, she took off at a run, fearful she was too late.

The Hawk came into view, silhouetted by the setting sun. The men on deck readied the ship for departure. She clambered up the ramp, and her feet hit the deck with a soft thump.

“I thought you had decided for a life more ordinary.” Clint commented as he took her bag. “I’m glad you didn’t.” He smiled.

Charlotte’s stomach flipped. Her mind raced. Jump off the ship? Or stay and change her life forever? The decision was made for her as the ship unmoored and drifted away from the dock. She remained glued to the railing until Bristol was just a dot on the horizon.

“Welcome to my ship, the Hawk.” Clint commented as he came behind her.

Charlotte’s mouth dropped open. “I thought it was the captain’s ship?”

Clint chuckled. “The captain runs to ship when it is at sea but I own the ship, just as I own my plantation and everything else.” His hand gripped her shoulder possessively.

“I was not aware.”

“Let’s discuss that and a great many other things.” Clint led her away from the railing and the view of everything she knew and towards her future, whatever that may be.

#loki #steve rogers #clint barton #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #clint barton fanfic #clint barton fanfiction #loki x ofc #steve rogers x ofc #clint barton x ofc #pirate AU

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viva-la-fangirl · 5 years ago

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Yesterday Part 4

yall got every right to be mad at me. end of the semester was crazy, holidays were crazy and then i jumped right back into my job. BUT I have part 4 here!

And as always: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

warnings: bad grammar, misspelled words, cursing, mentions of previous abuse

IF YOU ARE HAVING DOMESTIC ABUSE: National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1−800−799−7233

words:

The next weeks were a blur of anxiety, sleepless nights and paranoia.

Your mind revolved around your ex. His black eyes always raking over you. The feeling of him kicking you in the alley behind the restaurant where you decided to leave him. You begging him to stop.

There were times where you forgot about him. You went about your day and thought of you and Roger. The tour happening. Planning on which cities you would visit.

Then something would take you out of it. A smell, a sound, a tone of voice from someone passing by and it all came rushing back. Your skin crawled at every thought of him. Even with Roger in bed, with his arm protectively wrapping around you- you would lie awake for hours and wonder if your ex was trying to find you. Roger and the boys had been especially diligent about keeping the paparazzi away from you over the past weeks. Roger nearly yelling at anyone who looked at you for a little too long or even tried to attempt to bring out a camera. It made your heart flutter seeing Roger all protective, but it sank just as fast when you remembered the reason why.

“(Y/N)?” Roger asked. It was morning, the sun was barely up and hidden behind thick gray clouds. You refused to tell him you’d been up for at least an hour, two at the most.

“Yes?”

“Nothing,” Roger mumbled before pushing his face into your neck. His warm breath making your hairs stand up and your body relax. He had been so good recently, not staying out too late, inviting you to band practice and being attentive, ordering food and going out whenever you needed something.

You hated it.

Well, not totally. Admittedly you liked the extra attention. Usually during an album you were getting less attention than his drumsticks. It was nice to see a different side of Roger.

But then again. You hated being paranoid. You hated putting Roger out in the middle of recording. You hated being scared to go out. You hated being scared. Secretly, as you would never ever admit this to Roger, but you wished your ex would find you already and hurt you- just enough to put him back in jail. It was an ugly thought that tainted your mind but, being scared just to go to the grocery was killing you. You missed a time when it was only paparazzi to watch out for instead of a man that beat you enough to break some bones.

It felt as if you were in your own personal horror movie. Walking around just waiting for the boogyman to jump and get ya.

You laid with bed with Roger steadily breathing beside you, one arm draped around you as protection from the world. With one breath you snuggled closer to Roger who pulled you in tighter. At least for the moment you allowed yourself to feel safe.

If only that safe feeling lasted.

It was a cold day when the world dropped from under your feet. You had convinced Roger to finally let you out of the apartment to go for a hair cut. Truthfully you hadn’t been keeping up with your usual hair routine and it showed. Split ends with lack of color made it look greasy and lifeless. No way you could go to the boys concert tonight looking like this!

The wet but crisp air was welcomed. After being shuttled around from place to place for the past couple of weeks, outside felt like a stranger and the air welcomed your presence. Your lungs relished in non-apartment air drenched in remnants of cigarette smoke or cologne Roger loved.

“You feeling good love?” Beatrice asked. She ran her fingers through your hair, and massaged your head. For a second you forgot where you were, always a sucker for a good head massage. “(Y/N)?”

“Oh yes!” you brought yourself out of the trance. “Better than I have. Thank you,”

Beatrice was an old and trusted friend of your from your university days. You weren’t the bestest of friends but she was a reliable one and a killer hair stylist. She could make a raccoon look like Cher.

“Oh love you should have come in weeks ago!” Beatrice fiddled with your hair. “This is absolutely dreadful- sorry darling,”

“No I know,” You admitted. “Can you help me?”

“Of course darling,” Beatrice smacked on her gum. “Might take longer than normal but you’re talking to the master,”

Beatrice went to work right away washing your hair. The next two hours were filled with mindless talking and laughs. Beatrice went on about her sisters tacky wedding and the silk bridesmaids dresses that resembled bubble gum. You told of you and Roger, how tour was starting up soon and they had a local gig just to break the routine. It was the first time you felt normal in weeks.

While the day to day wasn’t bad, the topic of your ex seemed to always linger in the background- just waiting to pounce. While you trusted Beatrice, you know bringing up your ex would welcome a flurry of questions you didn’t want to answer. For just a few hours, you wanted to be a Roger Taylor’s girlfriend getting your hair done. Not some girl who was assaulted by he ex.

“I think we’re about done sweetie,” Beatrice smiled wide between her purple lipstick.

You looked in the mirror and couldn’t help but smile. Beatrice had really outdone herself. Your hair gained it’s color back. It looked fresh and healthy. Beatrice had even styled it for tonight.

“Oh Bea,” you fluffed your hair. “I can’t thank you enough,”

“Roger Taylor’s girlfriend deserves the best!” she exclaimed.

After paying Beatrice and a couple more goodbyes you walked out the door feeling better than you had in weeks.

Then came his voice.

“Hey (Y/N),”

You froze. Keys in hand just about to open your car. Your blood ran from your face and immediately turned to ice. You turned to see him standing a few feet away. He looked worse than he did the last time you saw him in court. He had obviously gained weight. His beard was untidy and his hair was greasier than ever with streaks of gray sprinkling the sides. His snake-like eyes ran up and down your body, it was like a rusted knife threatening to pierce the skin.

“What no hug?” he pouted.

“You stay away from me Harrison,” you hissed. Blood pumped in your head so loud you couldn’t hear anything besides the words spoken between you and the guy who had beaten you so viciously you couldn’t remember some of that night.

“Common hon,”

“Don’t call me that,” you wedged a car key between your fingers just encase. “How- how,”

“How did I find you?” Harrison flashed his yellowed teeth. “Humans are creatures of habit. You always went to Beatrice before a big event and with Queen’s gig tonight- I knew it would be a big event for you,

Queen gig. He knew about you and Roger.

Of course he would you idiot. You’re on the front of every tabloid from here to tin-buck-too.

“You’re a real piece of shit you know that?” Anger took over. How dare this man come back into your life, a life you had overcome so much for, a life you loved with a man you loved.

“Harsh words coming from someone who was going to marry me,”

“I was manipulated into loving you. You hurt me. You belittled me. Then when I wanted to leave and said no to your proposal you beat me,”

“A little misunderstanding is all. I mean you could be a little over dramatic,” Harrison gas-lighted. “I lost my temper one time and you throw me in jail. Now how is that fair?”

“You hurt me. That’s not love.”

“And you think you have love now? With that Roger Taylor?” Harrison sneered. He said Roger’s name so grossly like he was thinking of something disgusting. “I mean common- I might have been a little angry but at least I never cheated on you,”

“Roger has never cheated on me,” You yelled as strong as you could. Before you and Roger got together you knew about his flings and girlfriends. Freddie had ranted about another one of Roger’s girlfriend’s flying off the handle after catching him in bed with another women. You knew about his past.

“I won’t do that to you,” he promised.

“How do I know that?” you weakly said. Roger had been asking you out consistently for the past 2 weeks.

“Because...” Roger stopped. “Is saying you’re different too cliche?”

You laughed hardily. “A little,”

“Then call me Romeo because it’s true,” Roger stepped so close you could smell the strawberries you too had shared while watching a movie. “I know I’m not the best man, I fuck up a lot, I’m impulsive, I’m stubborn, I’m-”

“Roger,”

“Oh yeah. But the one thing I’m not is someone who is going to hurt you. After seeing you in that hospital, seeing how someone who claimed to love you could hurt you that badly- well it made me never want to see another tear from your eye,”

You melted and agreed to start seeing Roger. It was a slow processes but worth it.

“So you ignore the magazines with him and a bunch of girls around him. Basically begging to be fucked by him,” Harrison shouted.

You had seen. It made your stomach turn but above all you trusted Roger.

“What you and I shared is a fraction of what Roger and I do.” You stood up straighter. “I’m going home now and if I ever see you near me or Roger again I’m going to call the police,” You quickly opened the car and started it. Your hands shaking so much you could barely hold on to the clutch.

Backing out Harrison peered into your window and with the radio blaring and a ringing in your ears you didn’t hear him say.

“See you tonight,”

Tagged: sorry if i forgot anyone i’m not the best at this

@alexfayer @marveley @mrsmazzello @frenchieswiftie http://leahluhve.tumblr.com/ @yasnooshka24 @anita-e-taylor @benhardycult @jennyggggrrr

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nineteenseventeenbarnes · 5 years ago

Text

Better Man

Characters: CollegeAU! Bucky x reader World Count: 2552 Genre: fluff Warnings: n/a

James Buchanan Barnes, a.k.a Bucky was well known on the basketball court for his skills and on campus for his sharp jaw and bright blue eyes. He and his best friend Steve Rogers were the eye candies of the school, every girl wanted to be with them, and every guy wanted to be them.

It was a quarter to 3 AM on a Saturday, where would Bucky be? At a house party near the college campus, of course. After making out with some random chick the last half an hour, the air inside started to feel too thick so he decided to step outside to get some fresh air.

Bucky stepped over some random drunk person who fell asleep on the front porch and walked onto the paved path and to the tree right by the main driveway. He patted his pockets, looking for his cigarettes.

As he lit his cigarette, a girl with a hood over her head and her hands full of books scurried passed him. Usually, he'd pay no mind to people he didn't know, but Bucky was a little tipsy from all the drinks he had drowned, so he decided to say something to her.

"Where 'ya heading to so late at night?"

Her head shoots up too quickly at his voice, making her hood fall off the top. With his cigarette between his lips, Bucky's blurry eyes take second to recognize the girl – it was Y/N Y/L/N – the student council president who was known to be a huge nerd but had the face and body of a model. She was well known for paying zero attention to anyone who tried to hit on her and was always focused on school-related work.

"Well, Mr. Barnes, the café next to campus closes at 2 AM, so I'm heading home now." She responds to him in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You know who I am?"

"Who doesn't?" she rolls her eyes in a bored manner. Bucky's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He wasn't used to girls other than his friends Wanda and Nat talking to him in their normal voice, they usually had their shy or sultry voice on when speaking to either him or Steve.

"You study from day to night?" Bucky asks, shoving his hands in his pocket, the cold air blowing.

"Not just studying," she replies, shifting the books in her arms. "Not today anyway, I was preparing the proposal for the winter formal."

Bucky's mouth formed an O. For a second, he forgot campus events don't just happen, someone had to be behind them.

"Get home safe, have a good night," Y/N says before she starts to walk away.

Grinning as he thought of the most random conversation he has had in a while,

Bucky throws the rest of the cigarette stick on the ground, stomping on it before he heads back inside.

The next day, Bucky wakes up in his bed. After heading back inside the house after his chat with Y/N, he got Steve, who gave him a weird look when he told him he wanted to go home, and they both headed back to their shared apartment.

"What's up with you?" Steve asks Bucky as he came out of his room.

"What?" Bucky asks, plopping himself on the sofa and letting out a big yawn.

"We usually don't come home till the sun starts rising," Steve explains, learning on the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.

"Dunno didn't feel like it," Bucky answers before turning the television on. Steve rose an eyebrow at his answer, that was so unlike him but decided to drop it.

A few moments later, there's a knock on their door. Steve gets up from his spot on the sofa and opens the door.

"Hello, knuckleheads," Nat greets as she walks in, plopping herself on the spot Steve was previously sitting in.

"Good morning," Wanda chirps, setting paper bags down on their kitchen counter. "We come bringing bagels."

"This is why Wanda is my favorite."

"Shut up, Barnes."

The four friends sat around the dining table, feasting on the bagels and coffee the two girls had brought.

"What are you two up to today before the party?" Nat asks before taking a sip of her coffee.

"Nothing at all," Steve answers. "Did you girls want to do something before then?"

"Can't," Wanda tells him. "I have student council meeting at 2."

Bucky's eyes widen at what Wanda said. For a second, he forgot she was the secretary for the student council.

"What torture, having to do school things on the weekend," Nat comments, waving her hand dismissively. Wanda pouts at her friend.

"It's honestly not that bad, President Y/N always treats us to yummy afternoon tea when we do weekend meetings," Wanda defends.

"President Y/N, huh?" Bucky mumbles, taking another bite of his bagel.

"What a shame, that girl," Nat tuts. "Killer body and killer face, but she doesn't want to use them for her advantage."

"Didn't know you were into girls, Nat," Steve chuckles.

"Won't say I am, but if I were a guy, I'd go for her," Nat explains. "More coffee?"

"Yes, please," Bucky replies, sticking her mug out for Nat to pour more coffee and added 1 and a half teaspoon of sugar. "Hey, Wanda, where did you say your meeting was going to be at?"

At exactly 1:50 in the afternoon, Bucky escorts Wanda to Café 19XX by the school's main entrance. Steve and Nat had decided to stay in and have a South Park marathon and Wanda had questioned him when he offered to walk her to her meeting.

"Okay, time to spill, Barnes," Wanda says the moment they arrive at the door of the café.

"' Bout what?"

"You've never taken an interest in my extra-curricular activities and even laughed at me when I said I was running for student council secretary." Bucky just shrugs at what she pointed out and pushed the door open for Wanda. They both make their way to the counter, and right in front of them in line was Y/N.

"President!" Wanda greets, tapping her shoulder.

"Hey, Wanda," Y/N smiles at the girl as she took another step forward in line. Her eyes drift to the tall figure next to Wanda and she raises an eyebrow.

"Hey, Miss President," Bucky greets her with a boyish grin.

"Barnes," she greets back with a nod.

"Hey, Y/N and friends! Welcome to Café 19XX, will you three be ordering together?" the man at the counter asks.

"Yes, we are, Scott," Y/N answers. "Can I get one mocha latte with low-fat milk," Wanda smiles as she realized Y/N was ordering for her. "And you, Mr. Barnes?"

"Americano with one and a half teaspoon of sugar," he answers her, taking a step closer to the counter and reaching for his wallet.

"Actually, make it two americanos, both with one and a half teaspoon of sugar," Y/N tells Scott and Bucky's eyes widen in surprise.

"Alrighty, that'll be $11.70," Scott tells them after putting their orders in. Before Y/N could take her purse out, Bucky passes a credit card over to Scott. Y/N furrows her eyebrows and looks over the Bucky, who was 'focused' on the slip Scott was asking him to sign. She grabs a $10 note from her purse and passes it to him.

"Don't worry about it," Bucky tells her, pushing the bill back.

Wanda stood behind the two with a small smile on her face. She had no idea when the two had started talking to each other, but she thought it was adorable.

Bucky sat on a table a couple seats away from theirs while they held their meeting. The meeting was nearly 2 hours long, but Bucky didn't mind at all. He kept his eyes on his phone, but his ears were eavesdropping on their meeting.

"So, all we're missing for the winter formal is the list of candidates running for Winter King and Queen?" Wanda asks, ticking off the list on their agenda for today.

"Yes," Vision, the treasurer, answers. "The list should be in by Monday next week."

"Are you signing up this year, Y/N?" Tony, the vice president, asks.

"Tony Stark, does it look like we have time to be signing up for things like that when we have to be on our feet all night during the event?" Y/N raises an eyebrow and chuckles when Tony mumbles a no.

Bucky looks up when he hears her chuckle. He has never really seen her smile and it was refreshing to see her joking around.

"Alright, that's it for today, guys and Wanda," Y/N announces, standing up from her seat. "Thank you for your time."

The other 5 follow her and stand up. They say their goodbyes and everyone starts to leave except Y/N, who sits back down.

"Alright, let's head back to yours?" Wanda asks, walking over to where Bucky was sitting. He glances back over to where Y/N sat and Wanda glances over to where he was looking.

"She usually stays until really late at night."

Bucky nods in understanding as the two start making their way back to Bucky and Steve's shared apartment.

By 7 PM that night, the 4 made their way to Sam Wilson's house, who luckily only lives 3 blocks away from where Bucky and Steve did.

"You made it!" Sam cheers as the 4 walked in, handing them each a beer.

"Let's go dance!" Nat shouts to Wanda over the music before pulling her away from the group.

Bucky bobs his head to the music and scans the room. In the corner, he sees Tony Stark talking to some of the freshmen and he starts to wonder if Y/N would be here too.

A couple of drinks and dances later, Bucky decides to step out with Sam for a smoke.

"So, what's been up with you?" Sam asks him.

"Not much, we don't go back to training till spring, so Steve and I have just been hanging around."

"Yeah? Thinking of getting a girlfriend to keep you company this winter?" Sam asks him then takes another puff of his cigarette. The corner of Bucky's lips curved up when Sam mentions the word girlfriend and that doesn't go unnoticed by Sam.

"Eyyy," Sam teases, nudging Bucky in the arm. "Who's the lucky girl that has Mr. James Barnes all smiley?"

Bucky jabs Sam back and tells him to shut up, but that little smile never leaves his lips.

Bucky quickly glances at his watch before the two make their way back in. Realizing it was only 10 PM, he decided to grab his coat and head out, telling his friends he was feeling a coffee and getting weird looks from them.

"Why the hell is he getting a coffee at 10 PM at night?" Nat asks, watching Bucky's figure walking out of the door.

"I know where he's going," Wanda sings and skips over to the refreshments table to get another drink.

"Hi, welcome to Café 19XX, what can I get you?" a younger male greets Bucky as he walks in the warm cafe. He takes a quick glance around as he made his way to the counter and sure enough, he sees Y/N sitting in the same table as this afternoon.

"Could I get two hot Americanos with one and a half teaspoon of sugar in each," Bucky orders.

"Oh wow, that's specific," the male behind the counter, Peter, mumbles as he punches the order in. "That's how Y/N always orders it."

Bucky's ears pick up Peter's words and decides to ask him how often she's at the cafe.

"Oh, well, she comes nearly every night except Wednesday nights because she volunteers at the pound on 8th street," Peter says before shutting up, realizing he had said too much. "That'll be $5.70."

Bucky quickly hands him a 5 and a 1 before telling him to keep the change. He stands aside as he watches Scott make their coffee.

"So, you're here to see Y/N?" Scott casually asks him. Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, he didn't know how to respond to that.

"I'm just observant," Scott explains, putting the coffees on a tray. "You were here with her this afternoon, and Y/N doesn't usually hang out with new faces, so I'm guessing you're a new friend."

"You could say that," Bucky tells him as he grabs the tray the counter and walks towards the tables.

Y/N's eyes were so focused on the screen of her laptop she didn't see someone put a tray on the table, pull back the seat across her, or sit down. She only looked up when someone's knees had lightly bumped against hers when they tried to adjust their position on their seat.

"Hey," Bucky greets with a small smile. "Coffee?"

Y/N's eyes widen in surprise before she sets her laptop aside and takes one of the mugs from the tray.

"What brings you here?" she asks him.

"Oh, nothing, I was in the area and I saw you still sitting here."

"Bull, Barnes," she tells him, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. "You were at Sam Wilson's party."

"What makes you say that?"

"Your eyes are a bit bloodshot, meaning you've probably been drinking, and you're in that leather jacket you wore yesterday night at that party," Y/N explains. "So, what brings you here?"

"I figured you'd still be here, so I decided to ditch and check," Bucky finally confesses, a boyish grin never leaving his face.

Y/N couldn't hold back the small chuckle that escaped her and she shook her head. Was this the 'bad-ass' James Barnes everyone on campus gushed about?

In the middle of their conversation, Bucky's phone that sat on the table starts ringing and they both glance down to see Steve was calling.

"Sorry," Bucky apologizes.

"Nothing to apologize for," Y/N tells him. "Go pick it up." There was a tiny part of Y/N that would be disappointed if he had to go, but she couldn't tell him that. She expected to see him take the phone call elsewhere, but he had picked it up in front of her.

"Hey, bud," Bucky greets. "What's up?"

Y/N could hear Steve's voice over the phone and she pretended to be occupied with the edge of her mug.

"Buck, where y' at? Are you coming back?"

Bucky takes a glance at the girl in front of him, staring intently at her mug. Her eyes peek at Bucky and when she realized he was looking at her, her eyes went back to the same spot she was staring at.

"Actually, I'm not. Get the girls home safe," he tells Steve before hanging up. He puts his phone away and looks back at Y/N to see her smile at him, and two continue their conversation until Scott kicks them out.

Back at the party...

"Bucky's not coming back to the party?" Nat asks in surprise. "He loves parties!"

"I know," Steve whispers, looking at his phone. "Was that really Bucky I was talking to? He's always the last one to leave parties and he hasn't even made out with anyone yet."

Next to the two, Wanda stands up from her spot on the staircase.

"Well, with her, he's a better man."

#marvel fanfic #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan fanfic #avengers fanfic #bucky x reader #buckyxreader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x oc #college au

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thatsaweirdwaytospellundead · 5 years ago

Text

Re:FebMAGIC 2/11

Summary: The actors of Mankai Company are going to be participating in the well-loved ‘Actor’s Cafe’ event! This year the themes are a little different than last, including a glasses theme…

THIS IS A 10 PART STORY WITH AN EPILOGUE.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10]

Epilogue “Happy Valentines”

Izumi

So then, we’re all set with the following people to work on the glasses theme day. We have Chikage and Sakyo since they already wear glasses every day, and then--

We have the ones who raised their hands before, let’s see, Kazunari, Tsumugi, Itaru, and Homare.

Taichi

I really had no idea that anyone besides Sakyo-nii and Chikage had bad eyesight.

Homare

It’s because we usually wear contacts.

Muku

Just thinking about the others wearing glasses..... Somehow it feels like something straight out of a shoujo manga, it’s giving me tummy butterflies!

Tsuzuru

I wonder if your eyesight is really that bad, Chikage....

Chikage

Haha, oh I wonder.

Kazunari

Hey, do you think we will be alright with just including the members with bad eyesight?

I remember it was mega crazy when I lost my glasses that one time! That shit was wild! We could do something kinda like that for the cafe, right?

Sakyo

There is no way we would do something like that.

Citron

But Sakyo, wasn’t there that one time where you forgot your glasses and then fell into the kiddie pool?

Sakyo

Huh?

Izumi

Oh, do you think we should add in one person who has good eyesight? Just to be completely sure we will have enough people...

Tsumugi

It’s something to consider, I think it better to have one more person for the cafe.

Sakyo

Tch.... How about that guy over there who’s been sleeping this whole time?

Hisoka

Zzzzzzz....

Izumi

Alright.

Kazunari

Hey, Furuche, why did you reject my initial proposal? Ouch, I took an arrow to the knee~

Misumi

It’s ok, Kazu.

Kumon

Don’t mind him, Kazu!

Izumi

So we will have the members in glasses that I mentioned earlier along with Hsioka, which makes for a total of seven people. Thank you everyone.

Chikage

Roger that.

Izumi

Alright then, let’s start the meeting.

Tsumugi

Wow the glasses theme day isn’t too far away. It’s the first theme we will be doing, but it’s the only one we haven’t nailed down any roles for.

Izumi

You’re right. The owner had requested to meet with everyone before the first day of the cafe to prepare.

Hisoka

.... How did I suddenly get thrown into this theme....?

Homare

I already explained it to your earlier with marshmallows, remember?

Chikage

Too bad you were sleeping.

Sakyo

Anyway, there are many things we can do for valentines day that involve glasses.

It is not just about wearing glasses. We also must consider what type of character we want to become, we should think about it.

Kazunari

Gotcha~!

Tsumugi

Umm, a glasses character....

Chikage

This is a bit simplistic, but I think about a butler-like character.

Kazunari

Oh~! A butler in glasses!

Homare

Hmm, butler you say? Well I know a thing or two about playing a butler after all. I could use some of the skills I learned for my role study from back then....

Izumi

H-Huh, w-what a surprise. What’s up, Itaru?

Itaru

You don’t understand, You guys don’t understand a single thing....

Tsumugi

I-Itaru....?

Itaru

If you are going with the butler character, then everyone would need to use polite speech and say stuff like ‘Welcome, please come inside, Madam,’, right?

There is no way it is as simple as Mr. Normie-senpai over here says. You feel me, right? So let’s start again and think about a character who would wear glasses---

Izumi

C-Could you tone it down a bit, Itaru?

Itaru

HAVE YOU GUYS EVER PAID ATTENTION TO GLASSES CHARACTERS AT ALL!? THINK ABOUT THE WHOLE ESSENCE OF GLASSES CHARACTERS---

Kazunari

Wow, Itarun, ya look so cool all fired up!

Chikage

On the contrary, no matter how you look it, he is just a kid with an otaku flame burning in his soul.

Hisoka

Otaku flame.... How annoying.

Itaru

There are so many things that come to mind when you say ‘glasses character’. For example Sakyo and Mr. Normie-senpai are completely different characters.

Tsumugi

Yea you have a point there.

Sakyo

Huh.... Well if you are so fired up, how about using some of that passion and making a suggestion for the Actor’s Cafe theme.

Itaru

....... Alright. And in exchange I would like your help for my role study.

Chikage

.... This was quite the meeting.

Itaru

Were you listening to any of what I said, Mr. Normie-senpai?

Homare

Sooooooo theeennnnnn, guess we can all call it a night since we gotta wait for Itaru to give us an idea.

Tsumugi

I guess so. I look forward to hearing what type of character he suggests.

Hisoka

..... Good work today.

Chikage

Nice work.

Izumi

Oh, Chikage, do you have a moment?

Chikage

Hm?

Izumi

Well.... Sorry for keeping you. It was just about the Actor’s Cafe-- It’s a Valentine’s event so I think there is probably going to be a lot of female guests there. Depending on the character you will be playing, you may need to make some friendly small talk with them. Do you get where I’m going with this? Is that alright with you?

Chikage

Yes, I understand. I am alright if it is for work.

I work alongside many women at my company so you do not need to worry about my professional manner.

Izumi

I see, alright then. But if anything happens. please feel free to speak to me.

Chikage

Yes, thank you.

To be continued... Read part 3 here!

#a3 #エースリー #a3:chikage #event:refeb #a3! translation

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everythingoesnk · 5 years ago

Text

Once in Rockfield Farm (1/5)

summary; you own Rockfield Farm and your bf Mary Austin asks you if you can help her friends with an enormous favour that will lead to a much bigger unprecedented change into your life. Thanks to a cute guy specifically.

word count; 6 126

disclaimers, PLEASE read them; don’t forget this is fiction. i’m using queen‘s 70s era as a base for the story but it won’t be historically accurate. the song mentioned towards the end of the chapter is from Taylor Swift, i don’t claim those lyrics as mine. sorry in advance if u find a f*cked up grammar mistake or whatever. feedback would mean everything, it’s the first time i’m posting something i’ve written it feels like i’m giving birth looool

warnings; minor violence at some point and mention of abuse

********

Mary didn’t stop until she convinced you to give green light to her proposal.

She called it like that, but it seemed more like an order. Both of you knew she wouldn’t let it pass until you agreed to.

Taken aback, you refused at first.

The idea of four strangers living in your house, coexisting with you in the only safe space you knew, wasn’t appealing whatsoever.

Even though all they needed was a studio to record, they’d have to stay until the album was finished. They could afford to rent a proper one, but Mary made it quite clear that getting out of town was crucial to avoid possible distractions.

You’d been fired from your job because the restaurant bankrupted, so the money they were going to pay for rent was welcomed.

Your grandfather passed Rockfield Farm on to you when he died.

It was a lovely place full of good memories, mainly concerning hours on end together in the studio he built in the attic throughout the years. The relationship you had with him had always been special, but ever since your nana passed away at the age of 70, your bond became stronger.

He also wasn’t there anymore, and you tried not to think too much about it, just were glad that you met someone like him. He was the main reason you loved making music so much.

Sadly, as you grew up, although your talent for writing songs and producing music was undeniable, you realized you needed to be realistic and pursue a more down-to-earth career.

Medicine was another thing you were slightly attracted to, it wasn’t your passion but it would have to do.

The music business was too complex and difficult to get in, and wasting your time wasn’t on your plans. It’s not like you were a prodigy or a diamond in the rough, anyway. That was your honest opinion.

But now and then you’d succumb and compose. It was an effective way to forget about the rest of the world and vent whenever something would make you sad, grumpy, anxious, angry… Rarely did you write about happy feelings.

What’s the fun in claiming how fulfilled you are with your life? Which you weren’t, but still.

Ballads and songs that’d leave you with your heart aching on the floor were your daily bread.

Mary was the only one allowed to hear your little creations. She’d try to get you to show them to the world, to step out of the comfort zone and perform them in public, to rush out of those same four walls.

You were quick to brush her comments off every time, content with her and your dog being the only ones to get to listen to your babies.

“How long they’re going to take?” you asked using a fake uninterested tone, pretending not to care whether they needed weeks, months or a year.

The truth was that you wished for the album to be done quite fast.

“Who knows,” Mary said. “When the album’s finished I’m the first to know, but in the meantime Freddie won’t give me any clues”

You nodded, unsatisfied with the answer.

“Thanks for agreeing to this. I owe you big” her eyes found yours and yours softened.

“If anything it’s them who do, don’t you think?”

Mary grinned and offered to cook something for tonight’s dinner.

She left you alone with your molecular pathology notes resting on your lap.

It was your last year in University, thank the Lord. One last effort and you would be a doctor.

After memorizing various concepts you found yourself staring at the horizon wondering how was Freddie Mercury like.

Obviously because of Mary you sort of formed this idea of him, but hadn’t had a face to face yet. About the other Queen members… yeah, Mary mentioned them sometimes, vaguely: she described John as a nice fella to have around, Brian as the only one with common sense, and last but not least, when it came to Roger’s personality, she told you hesitantly to judge him yourself.

You thanked her when she handed you the pen you forgot inside.

Mary gave you an encouraging smile, placing her hand on your shoulder and squeezing it.

As soon as she turned around to go back inside, you called her name, squinting your eyes to try and get a better sight of the vehicle that kept getting closer to your property.

“What?”

When she spotted the van she sighed happily.

“Finally”

Mary ran to wait for them in the parking area. She was over the moon, clapping and waving effusively to welcome them.

“Are you coming or not?” Mary shouted, gesturing you to go and stand next to her.

You took your time to get up from sitting upon the grass and do just that.

Not a single second since they pulled over went by and Mary was already imprisoning Freddie in her arms.

You chuckled, completely sure he would be dead in a matter of seconds if she wouldn’t loose her grip.

He lovingly wrapped her in his and stroked her hair.

All of a sudden, running from the backyard where he usually played in the mud (this time was no different), your dog appeared on scene. You asked him to remain quiet and by your side, which to your dismay he did not obey.

He went and greeted Queen, who pushed him away with no bad intentions, they just didn’t want to get dirt on their trousers.

John, nevertheless, got on his knees and began patting him. It did not take long for him to regret it when Sherlock seemed to be captivated by his face, licking it non-stop.

You cleared your throat. It would be nice of Mary to introduce you, being the one who organized this whole of a mess in the first place.

Apparently she read your mind. The next thing she did was link arms with you.

“This is (Y/N)” she spoke. “Freddie, come here”

“You have no idea how happy I am to finally meet you”

Freddie gave you two sweet kisses, one on each cheek.

“Same here” you nodded and mirrored his smile when you saw it reached his eyes.

In a heartbeat you were fascinated by him.

There was this intriguing strong aura he projected that made you feel like you were in the presence of someone from the royalty, someone important.

Freddie examined you from head to toe and fell in love immediately with your outfit, a pastel blue dress with tiny sunflowers printed all over it. He did spot your exposed feet and smiled pleasedly at your choice of painting your toenails with the colours of the rainbow.

“Boys, don’t be rude and come say hi” he gestured his bandmates, who were taking a rapid glimpse of their new temporary home, and stepped aside.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Brian”

“Nice to meet you too” you kindly responded, shaking his hand.

“Thank you very much for allowing us to record our album here. If we win a Grammy expect you to be the first one we address in the speech” he joked, face beaming with a heavenly smile.

Damn, you were so soft for him already. And you wanted to touch his curls.

“You’re welcome, Brian”

“Yes, we’re endlessly grateful” another gentle voice joined the conversation.

John stood now in front of you.

“Hi, I’m John Deacon”

“I know” you laughed, tilting your head to the side. “I hope your stay here is… productive”

“I hope so too” he smiled big, and it made your heart melt. He was so cute.

Roger was next.

He was wearing a black leather jacket that fit him like a glove. One silver bracelet hugging his right wrist, matching the necklace around the neck. What caught your attention the most was the glittery rosy shoes, though. He had long blond messy hair (like the others, except the colour part), and prominent sideburns.

They looked ridiculous, you thought, although every second you spent contemplating his face the less they bothered you.

He was gorgeous, what the hell?

You got somehow a little nervous.

“Productive it shall be. I’m Roger” he spoke, referring your words from before. He took your hand and held it to his lips. “We’ve come to the right place, guys. With such a pretty face like hers we’ll never run out of inspiration” he snorted when he heard John face-palming himself.

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

Sure Roger didn’t mean that at all, it was just his constant flirty mood Mary warned you about taking over him, you reasoned.

“Don’t get it started, Rog. We don’t want her to kick us out the very first day” Brian scolded him like a father would his children.

Roger laughed, his silly expression never fading away, and soon he was again observing you.

“I was joking, I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” he said, taking some of the heat out.

“It didn’t,” you said back, confident.

You followed the others when they headed to the house carrying their respective suitcases with Mary as the leader.

Roger was fast to grab his and catch up with you.

“You live alone?”

“I have Sherlock”

He was still in ecstasy, trying to get everyone’s attention.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it” you shrugged. “It’s not as tragic as it sounds. I enjoy my own company”

“Oh. Anyway. This is a farm, right? You do all the, huh… you know, farm work on your own?” he looked around, scanning a bit the surroundings. He pointed with his chin at one big rooster. “The guardian of the house, eh?”

You let out a vague chuckle that made Roger proud, already eager to make you like him.

The reason was obvious: you were so eyecatching he almost tripped when he missed one of Sherlock’s toys on one of the porch steps, too engrossed in how the sun made the freckles in your face stand out.

“My grandfather baptized this piece of land as Rockfield Farm, but it hasn’t been a proper farm for years. Now it’s just… my house”

“You know,” he began, digging deep around his mind to come up with something so the conversation wouldn’t end, “years ago I had this summer job in a much more immense place than this. I had to watch over 200 sheep every day”

“Was it as entertaining as it sounds?”

“Clearly not”

Roger extended his hand to stop the door from closing after John came in. He motioned you to go first and winked, but you didn’t notice the last part, which slightly bothered him.

“(Y/N), this place is precious!” you heard Freddie praise.

Mary interrupted you before you could thank him.

“Then you sure are going to love the studio even more! C’mon”

“How did your grandfather manage to get this studio together? It’s pretty impressive” Brian enthusiastically asked, taking a small sip of tea.

The six of you were now chilling in the living room. It was the perfect time for them to rest since the road trip had been long.

Moments before they finished unpacking and settling down, Mary and you gossiped in the kitchen. She remarked how attentive Roger acted towards you, and asked if you were into him.

“Are you stupid?” you couldn’t believe her. “We’ve known each other for what, ten minutes?”

“I was just wondering whether there was desire at first sight or something”

“Desire at first sight?” you repeated slowly, taking in every word.

“It was a softer way to ask if you’d give him a ride or not” she laughed watching you gesture her to lower it down. “I’m just asking because I can tell he would”

Before answering Brian, you looked over at Roger.

He’d taken off his jacket and was rolling up the sleeves of the white tee he wore underneath.

Your lips parted, finding that mundane action quite amusing and sexy on him.

You looked away, guilt taking over you for having stared too keenly. There was nothing wrong about it, and you couldn’t explain why you felt agitated. Maybe you were self-conscious about whether the others noticed.

Forcing yourself to remember Brian’s words and with a sense of pride, you smirked behind your cup, gazing at the wooden floor.

Your grandfather poured his soul into this studio, which he also referred to as a sanctuary. It made you happy to hear Brian acknowledging its value.

There were several electric and acoustic guitars, a generous collection of microphones your grandmother enjoyed saving, two trumpets, a synthesizer -to which Freddie and Roger scoffed loudly at-, a drumkit, one saxophone, and a bass.

Not to mention the tape machine that still worked perfectly plus the recording booth.

Mary told you that John Reid, who was looking after Queen at the moment, managed to convince the label to provide them with a significant amount of money. You assumed they’d brought enough tapes to record on, therefore yours would remain intact.

“He bought half of the instruments”

“The other half?” John inquired.

“He stole them” you answered, not much of a fan about it.

“Whew!” Roger whistled.

You took a short sip of the tea and turned slightly towards the window, presencing a flash of light.

“A piano?”

Freddie dropped the question with no high hopes.

“Pardon?” you turned your head and looked at him over your shoulder with your body still facing towards the window.

The head movement was so fast that a clip you wore to hold a fraction of hair in place loosened a bit, letting the lock to fell down your face.

Roger stared at you in awe.

The light illuminating the room had a warm cosy tone, which surely helped to make your skin look softer and smooth. He wasn’t aware of the heart eyes he was giving you, but Brian, John and Mary were.

When you batted your lashes, he looked away and saw Brian try and fail to hide a smile when they locked eyes. He’d been caught.

“Do you have a piano?” Freddie questioned again, eyebrows raised a little.

A tiny playful smile made its way to your lips.

“Of course I have a piano” you cockily answered.

When you saw Fred’s satisfied grin appear you instantly knew he liked you as much as you liked him. It wasn’t in the attic; you’d show it to him later.

To be honest, the piano was your favourite instrument to play. So delicate, so powerful and majestic.

“Excuse me for a second” you got up from your seat, everyone confused by your sudden urge to leave, but not alarmed.

That light from before wasn’t a bolt of lightning, you came to realize, it was a car that parked outside.

A little voice popped in your head guessing it could be him, but it couldn’t… right? There were approximately two hours from Cardiff to get there.

It sure was someone lost, or maybe they were stopping by to beg to use your bathroom because they couldn’t hold it in anymore. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“How about we start dinner? I’m starving” Mary added.

Their voices kept getting lower and lower as you crossed the corridor, oblivious to Roger’s eyes following your every move.

You stepped outside and closed the heavy door behind you, but not completely.

The silhouette of the last person you’d want to see in the entire world was leaning against a red car, one you did know very well because you lost your virginity in the backseat. He was humming to a tune you didn’t recognize, head facing downwards.

Picking at the fabric of the sweater you put on to forbid the cool air of the night from touching your skin, you opened your mouth.

“Leonardo!” you whisper shouted.

He definitely heard you, although he turned a deaf ear.

“Leo, what the fuck!”

“You’re a stupid whore”

Shit. He’s drunk? You prayed he wouldn’t make a scene, not now, with Mary and the guys around. The shame to have them complicit of whatever could possibly happen would be unbearable.

“You’re miserable” he went on with his speech, voice thick, which made it difficult for you to understand him.

You called it quits three months ago. Apparently he wasn’t any close to getting over the fact you ended it.

“Leave”

After what felt forever, he abruptly raised his head.

“What?” the expression on his face revealed he wasn’t happy.

What his eyes showed freaked the hell out of you: they revealed an intense desire, either with words or physically, to hurt you. He wasn’t sober, and you were aware that he had struggled with alcoholism when he was a teenager. It was fair to say Leonardo never put a finger on you in that way before, but alcohol was the push he needed to do it and his body was full of it now.

A lump formed in your throat.

“Get out of here”

“I just want to talk” lifting his hands up in an attempt to seem harmless, losing balance doing so, he took a few steps forward trying his best to sound convincing so you wouldn’t move and listen to him.

“I don’t want to hear what you have to say”

“How do you think I felt? Huh? When I saw you making out with that moron? You’re so selfish. A fucking slut, (Y/N). You disgust me”

That was the final straw. You promised you wouldn’t give in and start an argument, but he fucking did have to bring that up. He had the nerve to blame you for moving on and having some fun with a guy a few days ago at a party.

“Are you serious right now, Leo? How dare you?! We’re not together!” funny enough, this time it was you walking up to him not giving a damn anymore about the consequences.

When you raised your fist to punch him, even in his state, he managed to catch your wrist on time.

“How wrong you’ve done me” he hissed, tightening the grip. That’d leave marks for sure.

He pushed you against the car, causing your back to crack roughly. The situation was so tense not even the tears were brave to roll down your face, your vision blurry and unclear.

“Please, Leo!”

Mary’s voice never felt so good in your ears.

You totally forgot about them, that you could’ve screamed for help instead of dealing with Leo on your own, too absorbed in rage to be able to think things through.

“Do something, help her!” she pleaded the boys.

Four arms were fast to catch him and throw him to the ground.

Everything was happening so fast, almost as fast as your crazy heartbeats.

Brian came to you and held you by the shoulders, checking you out entirely, looking for bruises. He was asking repeatedly if you were alright, if that man dared to touch you. You could hear him, but it felt like he were miles away from you, his words echoing in the back of your mind.

Mary grabbed your arm and the two guided you, treating you like you had some kind of disability.

Before letting them drag you inside, you quickly turned your head to see what was going on, and saw a fuming Roger threatening Leo to disappear and never come back.

Freddie and John remained behind him in case he’d lose his temper. They looked at each other in astonishment; it was the first time they saw Roger like that.

“(Y/N)” Mary called you, once in the common room. “Fancy a glass of water?”

“I’ll be right back with it,” Brian said, his long legs taking him to the kitchen.

“Sit down, babe”

“I don’t want to. I’m fine”

She could perfectly see the tension in your shoulders.

“You’re not. But it’s fine, it’ll be fine” she sympathized, caressing your hair.

At this point you were lost for words. You were confused, angry, stunned.

“Here, take it. It’ll do you good, (Y/N). Is there anything else you n—” Brian began, offering you freshwater to maybe comfort you and make the knot you felt in your throat go away.

“For fuck’s sake!” you felt choleric. Maybe you were about to pass out.

Freddie, John and Roger came in and stopped dead in their tracks when they heard you complain.

Brian blinked a few times.

You were desperate for some time alone to process the last couple of minutes, but that wasn’t any excuse for you to take it out on Brian when all he wanted was for you to get better.

“I’m sorry” you lamented, ashamed at your behaviour, and took the glass not looking at anyone in the eye. That’s when you saw you were indeed shaking a little bit.

He smiled comprehensively, not giving too much attention to your outburst.

“Who the fuck was that?” Freddie wondered.

John elbowed him and mouthed “not now”.

“I’m so embarrassed. I’m sorry you had to witness that” you sighed, choking back the agony.

“Don’t apologize. That piece of shit shouldn’t have treated you like that. He looked mad” Freddie condemned.

Another heavy sigh escaped your mouth when you saw everyone staring intently at you, hating the feeling of their unasked pity.

Roger hadn’t said a word. His muscles were tense, mind way too far from the scene recalling something from the past.

It’d been several weeks since Queen came to stay.

To your surprise you had no complaints. They helped you without hesitation with the housework and kept their rooms tidy. More or less. The only thing you could protest about was that after the sessions it seemed like the studio had been the target of a fateful hurricane.

However, they were too cute to stay mad at for more than ten seconds.

Coming out of your shell was easy because of them. It didn’t take you long to feel comfortable enough to show your true self instead of hiding in your room like you did the first three days.

Reading a book easily kept your mind busy, except now; it was unbearably hot outdoors and indoors. Without taking your eyes off the page, you held the Coca-Cola can against your neck seeking a refreshing sensation.

“Mind if I join?”

You lowered the sunglasses until they were fitted a little bit below the bridge of your nose. The sun was hiding behind a cloud now, making it easier to adjust your vision and get it focused on whoever that was.

A shirtless Roger stood before you, with a towel around his neck that he rushed to spread on the hammock next to yours.

His skin glowing due to the sweat made him look rather tempting.

Your brain lent a helping hand forcing you to smile and nod because you wouldn’t, couldn’t do that yourself.

A small grin tugged at his lips when he noticed your eyes on him longer than usual.

“You’re always studying, angel” he pointed out, lying down and crossing his arms above his head.

You let out a loud sigh you’d been holding in, cheeks red at the pet name he chose. Anytime he’d call you something sweet rather than by your name, it was always how you tended to react.

There was no denying that you’d sort of developed a small crush on him.

Nobody could blame you, though; the same thing would happen to any human being with feelings.

He always treated you as one of them, making sure you didn’t feel left out. His sense of humour was similar to yours, and you appreciated it when he included you in their plans even if he knew you were occupied with Uni and probably wouldn’t be able to join.

Also, he was hot as fuck. You swore you’d never seen a man so beautiful in your life so far.

“I have to if I want to pass my exams”

“Sure, but you’re always studying” he emphasized. “It cannot be healthy”

It couldn’t, but everything was so difficult and you were so lost at some points you thought the world as you knew it could end if you took the smallest break.

“(Y/N)”

“Tell me”

“Seeing you stressed out stresses me” he sat straight, took the book from you and shoved it away. “Fuck this. I suggest you have some fun before the pressure ages you”

“And what do you recommend, ay?” you questioned, crossing your arms across your chest.

“We could play Frisbee”

“Frisbee? Really?”

“Why not? I’m sure you’re not that bad” he teased, getting to his feet.

You faked a laugh and stood up.

“Don’t underestimate my skills”

He used his hand to mimic a mouth talking nonsense, and approached the pool since the frisbee was floating in the water. But he stopped when he felt he stepped on something, proceeding to lift his foot to see what it was.

Roger knelt down and picked a piece of paper up, which said in messy handwriting together with scribbles here and there: You tell me ‘bout your past, thinking your future was me.

His brows cocked in surprise and your eyes widened. You grabbed it out of his hand and held it close to your heart reflexively, as if protecting it. It must have flown out from within the pages of the book when he first threw it away.

Roger watched you curiously, crouched down still, as you breathed slow and deep avoiding eye contact. You could feel your face getting hotter.

He got up with an unnoticeable smile.

“That’s yours? It’s decent”

You waited for something to get out of your mouth, but this time your brain didn’t find a way to help you out, speechless at the fact that he liked it.

“Do you have more? I’d love to hear” he continued, glancing at you.

“Oh, n-no” you forced a laughter. “I don’t”

“I’m glad you’re not as bad as a lyricist as you are as a liar”

You gave him a dirty look and the corners of his eyes crinkled at that. He puppy-eyed you.

“Please?”

“No, Roger”

“We don’t protest when you’re in our recording sessions, you could return the favour”

“Excuse me? You’re in my goddamn house. Watch your tone”

He giggled, fascinated by how cute you turned out to be when poked at.

“What do I have to do for you to say yes?”

“Nothing. It’s not happening”

“(Y/N)!” he pleaded. “I want to hear you sing”

You shook your head.

“And I want to own all the dogs on the planet. Guess we’re both stuck”

Roger groaned in defeat and turned around to get his hands on the frisbee.

For some odd reason, it made your heart dance in your chest knowing he was willing to sit down with you and listen.

A sense of enthusiasm and confidence moved you and shockingly enough you found yourself considering the idea.

Roger gave you a quick head nod.

“Ready?”

You didn’t know what the hell you were doing but you whispered a small “okay”. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

“Take a few steps back first, you’re too close”

You pulled a face at him but quickly shook your head.

“I said I’ll do it”

Roger wasn’t getting it.

“Do w—“ he stopped mid-sentence, his sapphire eyes widening in understanding this wasn’t about playing Frisbee anymore. “Yes!” he took you in his arms and spun you around.

Since he was shirtless you could feel how well built he was. Although he wasn’t the most athletic man out there, apparently drumming on and on was enough to keep him fit.

“Rog, Rog! Enough! I’m feeling dizzy”

You were wearing a mini skirt that had a tiny slit on one of the sides. Seeing it rolled itself up a little you adjusted its length, avoiding any extra space to anyone’s imagination. Too late for Roger though.

When satisfied with how your skirt fitted, you looked up and saw a subtle wink roaming his lips.

“I’m ready when you are” he announced, bending over to grab his shirt and put it on.

At first your legs wouldn’t cooperate.

Roger followed you closely.

He saw you toy with your hair, questioning yourself why you agreed to do this when you weren’t a hundred per cent sure about it. He placed his hands on your shoulders and slowly massaged the back of your neck with his thumbs, relieving some of the pressure.

Every single hair of your body stood on ends.

“Don’t be nervous, love. We can drop it whenever you want” he conceded, tossing an arm around your shoulders.

Opening the door to the studio you felt sick, already regretting your decision.

Roger took a sit on the couch, watching you like you were about to do a mind-blowing performance that’d change the meaning of his life forever.

Feeling like a rat in a laboratory with the doctors waiting to see if the experiment was successful or not, you shifted weight from one foot to the other, discomfort intensifying.

The piercing electric blue of his eyes triggered something in you when they met yours. You didn’t know how but it seemed like he was speaking to you through them, encouraging and imploring you to open up to him.

“Take it easy, (Y/N). It’s not a big deal”

“It is for me”

You sank down on one of the chairs next to the control room, poorly trying to hide how intimidated you were.

“You’re singing, then? Or reading the lyrics out loud?”

“Singing” you muttered. God knows if you went downstairs to pick up your notebook you wouldn’t come back.

A very cheeky expression overtook his face.

“Okay, go ahead” he gestured, rubbing his chin.

You clenched your jaw and snapped your eyes shut. It was easier to do it if you weren’t looking. You’d just imagine it was your grandfather in the room with you instead.

“Time won’t fly, it’s like I’m paralyzed by it I’d like to be my old self again But I’m still trying to find it

After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone”

Roger’s fingers fidgeted at the sight of you tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, silently wishing it was him doing it.

He saw how your angelic features relaxed along to every word you sang. When it comes to your voice... He had to remind himself he didn’t die nor was leaving a dream, because it felt like he were in the very gates of heaven.

His breathing quickened, well aware he was witnessing something intimate.

Leaning closer, elbows resting on his knees, he allowed your voice to transport him to the place and time you were describing.

“But you keep my old scarf From that very first week 'Cause it reminds you of innocence And it smells like me You can’t get rid of it

'Cause you remember it all too well”

You swallowed before opening your eyes and speaking.

“There’s more but that’s the part I’m most proud of”

Roger’d fallen silent, his brain on fire.

He seemed to be absent, daydreaming probably.

Your heartbeat could make you go deaf any second, partly because you allowed him to have a peek at your heart partly because you were dying to know if he was any positive about it.

“You sounded like an angel” he stated in the softest voice, working on coming back to his senses.

There was nothing you could do apart from blushing and awkwardly shaking your head, yet on the inside you were saturated with a strong feeling that filled you completely: his opinion was relevant to you and the reaction he had was more than enough.

“You’re exaggerating. Thank you though, for your words. You’re very kind” you said, entwining ankles.

“Is it…” Roger was afraid this would ruin the mood. He decided to give it a shot and solve any doubt. More importantly, he wanted to make sure you were alright.

You weren’t stupid and knew where he was going.

“About Leonardo? Yes. Next question” you explained bitterly cutting him off, and pressed your lips together making an effort to not roll your eyes and appear rude.

He did ruin the mood.

Roger felt bad now.

“I’m sorry. Forget it”

“It’s fine” the flat tone you used before switched to a more delicate one.

It was overwhelming that he cared. He didn’t have to but he cared.

“I experienced something similar. I know how fucked up domestic abuse is” Roger confessed, bowing his head.

Wait, what? He what?

“Rog…” you got up and carefully sat next to him.

It shocked you how quick the atmosphere changed.

“It’s nothing, dear, it was a long time ago. She was… she was crazy” he laughed drily and cleared his throat. “You know what I mean”

“I do not. What you saw when Leonardo showed up was a one-time thing. He was drunk and barely himself, but I’m so terribly sorry you had to go through that”

“Ah, good for you then” he tapped you on the knee with a small smile on his face.

It broke your heart. How could anyone be so goddamn evil? You just couldn’t understand why they were people like that out there, willing to harm others deliberately.

Your mind drifted to Leonardo, did he become one of them?

Glancing at Roger, you hesitantly got closer to rest your cheek against his shoulder, letting him know mutely you were there in case he needed to vent more often. You intended to cuddle for just a few seconds before it turned out weird. That was until he wrapped an arm around you to keep you in position.

“Thank you” he whispered.

It sent shivers down your spine hearing for the first time his voice discreetly cracking up. You weren’t entirely sure about what he was thanking you for, though.

Roger didn’t quite understand why such information slipped out his mouth. Maybe he thought it was appropriate to share it since he contemplated you went through the same thing after what he saw. He just wanted to make sure you knew you could count on him as well.

The boys knew about the matter, obviously, but there was this thing about you he hadn’t figured out just yet that pushed him to speak to you about it.

That’s what his mind was saying, his heart on the other hand defended the idea that he felt comfortable with you and that since he presenced the incident with Leonardo he remembered his experience. Hence the fit of anger he had.

The thought alone of that scumbag hurting you made his head collapse. He was very sensitive about the subject.

“Better?” you wondered out loud after a while of snuggling, yet you didn’t move, finding the proximity significantly pleasant.

“Yeah, uh, sorry” he cleared his throat and released you.

“It’s more than okay”

He nodded, not really looking at you yet.

You tried to think of something that could distract him from those undeserved and heartrending memories.

There was no point of comparison to what Roger had struggled with, but every time you argued with Leo during the year your relationship lasted, you were grateful that your friends organized sporadic plans to help you forget about the fights.

You had to do that for Roger. You had to entertain him. To keep his mind occupied.

“Freddie explained to me drums are much more complicated than what they seem”

Roger glanced over the drumkit.

He was suspicious at first about the topic change, and looked at you from the corner of his eye.

“It can be very ambitious if you don’t do try for real, instead of goofing around. There’s too much going on. People believe it’s just hitting the drums and you’re good. Wankers”

It was unmissable how his face lit up, talking about his passion.

Crossing an ankle over your knee, you bent forward to get a better sight of his much more eased features.

“I’m sure it requires a lot of hard work, the coordination on hands and feet and all that stuff. Singing along as well must be tiring”

Roger’s eyes bored into yours, as if studying and reflecting upon your words. A corner of his mouth lifted.

“Yeah,” he replied amused, “physically it can be tough”

He knew what you were doing.

Just when he was about to ask you if you wanted him to teach you some basics, John came flying through the door.

“For God’s sake, there you are. Roger, I need you. Freddie and Brian are arguing again. Help me out spreading some peace before Freddie slaps him”

****

end of part one, lemme know what you think ! ♡

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nineteenseventeenbarnes00 · 5 years ago

Text

BETTER MAN

Pairing: CollegeAU! Bucky x reader World Count: 2556 Genre: fluff Warnings: n/a

James Buchanan Barnes, also known as Bucky, was well known on the basketball court for his skills and on campus for his sharp jaw and bright blue eyes. He and his best friend Steve Rogers were the eye candies of the school, every girl wanted to be with them, and every guy wanted to be them.

Bucky stepped over some random person who probably got too drunk and fell asleep on the front porch and walked onto the paved path and to the tree right by the main driveway. He patted his pockets, looking for his cigarettes.

As he lit his cigarette, a girl with a hood over her head and her hands full of books, scurried passed him. Usually, he'd pay no mind to people he didn't know, but Bucky was a little tipsy from all the drinks he had drowned, so he decided to say something to her.

"Where 'ya heading to so late at night?"

"Well, Mr. Barnes, the café next to campus closes at 2 AM, so I'm heading home now." She responds to him in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You know who I am?"

"You study from day to night?" Bucky asks, shoving his hands in his pocket, the cold air blowing.

"Not just studying," she replies, shifting the books in her arms. "Not today anyway, I was preparing the proposal for the winter formal."

Bucky's mouth formed an O. For a second, he forgot campus events don't just happen, someone had to be behind them.

"Get home safe, have a good night," Y/N says before she starts to walk away.

Grinning as he thought of the most random conversation he has had in a while, Bucky throws the rest of the cigarette stick on the ground, stomping on it before he heads back inside.