#why would you take the carny outta him

[empressofmankind]

Me just sitting here, personally offended that "the best part" doesn't involve the carnival track.

How dare.

[andolinii]

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

❛   The mind of the subject will desperately struggle to create memories where none exist   ❜ ❛   One goes into an experiment knowing one could fail. But one does not undertake an experiment knowing one has failed.   ❜ ❛   At least that's something we can agree on.   ❜ ❛   It does seem like a dreadful place to be stranded.   ❜ ❛   Heaven, friend. Or as close as we'll see till Judgment Day.   ❜ ❛   I’m afraid of you.   ❜ ❛   We had a deal! Open this door, right now!   ❜ ❛   So you expect me to shoulder the burden?   ❜ ❛   Just 'cause the city flies don't mean it ain't got its share of fools.   ❜ ❛   Heads? Or tails?   ❜ ❛   I told you...I'm not gonna do it! Now go away.   ❜ ❛   I never find that as satisfying as I'd imagined.   ❜ ❛   I guess you're expecting me... Is anyone here? Hello?   ❜ ❛   Why are you following me?   ❜ ❛   Violence is not the answer! Blood must not be shed.   ❜ ❛   Violence is not a foregone conclusion.   ❜ ❛   I see every sin that blackens your soul.   ❜ ❛   Not all debts can be repaid.   ❜ ❛   Chin up. There's always next time.   ❜ ❛   Prophecy is my business, as blood as yours   ❜ ❛   thy crook is bent and thy path is twisted.   ❜ ❛   It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. Just sit down, and everything will be fine.   ❜ ❛   Is this some kind of sales pitch? Because I am not interested.   ❜ ❛   I'm a friend. I've come to get you out of here.   ❜ ❛   I don't dance. C'mon, let's go.   ❜ ❛   This will end in blood. But then again, it always does with you, doesn't it? It always ends in blood.   ❜ ❛   Oh, can you smell that? I've never smelled anything like that before, have you?   ❜ ❛   Give a man a little power, he falls in all kinds of love with himself.   ❜ ❛   Coming here was your idea.   ❜ ❛   that fall into the water did you no favors. I'll keep an eye out for something that might ease your pain.   ❜ ❛   Knock it off! Will you stop it? Will you stop it! I'm not here to hurt you.   ❜ ❛   If you're going to be a sore loser, then I shan't do this again.   ❜ ❛   You're a roguish type, what does it look like?   ❜ ❛   Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt.   ❜ ❛   Where did you learn to pick locks?   ❜ ❛   Whatever that was, it's got nothing to do with the job at hand. This job's getting worse all the time.   ❜ ❛   What interest does a prophet have in a bunch of carnies and carousels?   ❜ ❛   I never even heard of this place before I got here.   ❜ ❛   They frown on gardens in my part of town.   ❜ ❛   I don't really understand what I just saw back there, but it sure as hell looks like a shortcut to getting us killed.   ❜ ❛   You've always been different, haven't you? You crave no glory.   ❜ ❛   You see? You're a killer, like it or not.   ❜ ❛   Now that you're out of yours, you might realize cages have their advantages.   ❜ ❛   I can handle whatever comes along. Trust me.   ❜ ❛   A choice is better than none. No matter what the outcome.   ❜ ❛   What happened back there, that...that's not the last of it, is it?   ❜ ❛   Maybe you're the man I remember, maybe not.   ❜ ❛   There's survival...and then there's finding pleasure in the act.   ❜ ❛   Look, you seem like a decent enough sort. That said, the less you know about me, the better.   ❜ ❛   I'm leaving and there's naught you can do to stop me.   ❜ ❛   Me busting you out, what do you think that was? Charity?   ❜ ❛   I got no quarrel with you.   ❜ ❛   Are you afraid of God?   ❜ ❛   I never claimed to be no hero.   ❜ ❛   There's already a fight. Only question is, which side are you on?❜ ❛   Just hold up for a minute! I'm not angry with you.   ❜ ❛   You killed those people. I can't believe you did that...they're all dead... You killed those people.   ❜ ❛   I have no need for one such as you.   ❜ ❛   Don't get too comfortable with my company. You are a means to an end, no more.   ❜ ❛   You’re either a great hero or the worst of scoundrels, depending on who's doing the telling.   ❜ ❛   I am a believer, but I am not a fool.   ❜ ❛   What is the most admirable creature on God's green earth?   ❜ ❛   Does this strike you as good news? It doesn't strike me as good news.   ❜ ❛   I don't much care for you… but I must admit, you know your way around a brawl.   ❜ ❛   Now, now, All I ask is that you finish what you started.   ❜ ❛   Son, I do say I like the cut of your chin.   ❜ ❛   You know, when your name was first passed to me, I wasn't quite sure you were the man for the job.   ❜ ❛   What could people have done to deserve to be locked up in a place like this?   ❜ ❛   You're a lion. But you can't blame me for looking after my own interests, can you?   ❜ ❛   Lions walk with lions, not hyenas.   ❜ ❛   I killed them. They were dead.   ❜ ❛   You must think me some sort of...freak. I must seem ridiculous. ❜ ❛   Like all bastards, we serve it best by smothering it in its crib.   ❜ ❛   Let me tell you about sin.   ❜ ❛   Are you going to just sit there?   ❜ ❛   the biggest sin of all, the mother of all sins, is that we sit back and take it.   ❜ ❛   In this world, you were a martyr.   ❜ ❛   These folk need a better class of hero.   ❜ ❛   This isn't our responsibility - none of it.   ❜ ❛   Why, that sort of ambition will serve you well.   ❜ ❛   I had a role in this catastrophe, if you want to pretend we're innocents in this, then that's your prerogative.   ❜ ❛   I saw you die. Saw it with my own eyes.   ❜ ❛   I know how this feels. Listen, I think you should talk to me.   ❜ ❛   How do you wash away the things that you've done?   ❜ ❛   Once people get their blood up, it ain't easy to settle it down again.   ❜ ❛   This prophecy business... You don't think anyone can really see the future, do you?   ❜ ❛   These are dire times and I could ever so use your aid.   ❜ ❛   That is an oath you cannot keep.   ❜ ❛   If you were to take me back...that's death. Or something so like it, I cannot tell the difference. ❜ ❛   A mother who abandons their child doesn't draw a lot of sympathy in my book.   ❜ ❛   You just got dealt a bad hand. ❜ ❛   The only difference between past and present is semantics.   ❜ ❛   If we could perceive time as it truly was… what reason would grammar professors have to get out of bed?   ❜ ❛   You couldn't have known this would happen.   ❜ ❛   One doesn't expect a picture of one's corpse to come across so lifelessly.   ❜ ❛   Listen to me. what you've been through… ain't nobody in the world deserves that.   ❜ ❛   We are gettin' outta here, you got it? And you're never gonna have to look back.   ❜ ❛   Child! Child! You are the lie that spewed from my womb. You are the lie, the lie, the lie.   ❜ ❛   Some men dream of money, some men dream of love. My father dreamt of a flood of fire.   ❜ ❛   I can see all that would be, might be and must not be.   ❜ ❛   Child, would you like to pray with me?   ❜ ❛   All I ever wanted is to see you live up to your potential.   ❜ ❛   Humanity wrote a bad check, and the flood was the only way to settle the accounts.   ❜ ❛   You'll need to eat sooner or later. If you hold out, you'll just starve to death.   ❜ ❛   God put his faith in men once, too. It seems that we have something in common: disappointment.   ❜ ❛   Why do you ask ‘what’ when the delicious question is ‘when?’   ❜ ❛   All I can do is watch as what I set in motion slides into its terminal stage.   ❜ ❛   Time rots everything, even hope.   ❜ ❛   We're going to cure you.   ❜ ❛   When the body cries out, the spirit listens.   ❜ ❛   Do you hear that screaming? That is the sound of your interference.   ❜ ❛   Is this where you start moralizing? You forget, I know you.   ❜ ❛   What are you going to do to stop me?❜ ❛   You struggle against prophecy, like a stone loosed from a sling.   ❜ ❛   I don't understand. I heard you screaming, I was… I was coming to get you.   ❜ ❛   Do you think...it's possible to redeem the kind of things that we've done?   ❜ ❛   We're doing this together, or I'm doing it alone. Either way, I need to know the thing's been done.   ❜ ❛   Rejoice! Rejoice! Death has no sting.   ❜ ❛   I may be the one who strikes you down, but you've always had a knack for self-destruction. Who's to say you won't beat me to the punch?   ❜ ❛   Some sins can't be forgiven.❜ ❛   I'm not going to let you kill him.   ❜ ❛   I won't abandon you.   ❜ ❛   You come to wipe your slate clean, but time will walk backwards before you find redemption.  ❜ ❛   Everything I've done...I've done to keep you safe.   ❜ ❛   You killed him. What did he mean? Huh? You tell me, what did he mean?   ❜ ❛   Just drop me off if you want to. This isn't your problem.   ❜ ❛   I'm a fool. I've sent mighty armies to stop you; I've rained fire on you from above.   ❜ ❛   Will you do this for me, just...just this one last thing? Please…   ❜ ❛   You thought the streets were paved with gold, but they were paved with blood, sweat and tears.   ❜ ❛   Look at that. Thousands of doors...opening all at once. My god, they're beautiful.   ❜ ❛   Baptism is the rebirth of the spirit...but sometimes the mind gets in the way.   ❜ ❛   There are a million million worlds. All different and all similar. Constants and variables.   ❜ ❛   We swim in different oceans but land on the same shore.   ❜ ❛   Are you ready to have your past erased? Are you ready to have your sins cleansed? Are you ready to be born again?   ❜ ❛   I can see all the doors, and what's behind all the doors.   ❜ ❛   Hey, the deal is off, you hear me? The deal is off!   ❜ ❛   You think a dunk in the river's gonna change the things that I've done?   ❜ ❛   If I don't get caught, it's going to be a very long time before we see each other.   ❜ ❛   Do you hate your wickedness?   ❜ ❛   Are we worth saving if we will not save ourselves?   ❜

[cchellacat]

One Day

 For @that-is-americas-ass-you-know-it  Happy Summer Meet Cute xxx

Bucky x Reader

Fluff and a tiny bit of angst.

Bucky kept a cursory eye out for his friend as he explored. He’d lost Steve somewhere in the crowd a while ago, the carnival a bustling, noisy, cacophony surrounding him.  The summer heat was like a haze in the crowd, everyone stripped to the edge of decency.  His jacket was slung over one arm and his shirt sleeves were rolled up, top button of his shirt undone and his tie hanging loose.  He took his time, watching the people as he wandered from booth to booth.  He felt a listless sort of melancholy deep in his gut that he was trying hard to ignore.  Dread had been eating away at him since he woke that morning, the knowledge that tomorrow he’d be shipping out, that this was his last night of freedom…  he sighed.  There was nothing to be done, all he could do was pray he would come back.  That he wouldn’t die over there, alone and forgotten in some foreign grave.  He blames his inattention to self pity, it’s why he doesn’t see her right away, why the first moment he lays eyes on her is when he’s holding her in his arms, stopping her from hitting the ground after bumping into her.

The moment their eyes meet for the first time, he’s stunned speechless.  Wide pretty eyes filled with shock and full pink lips opened in a silent oh of surprise, captivate him.  It’s far fetched and romantic guff made up by movies, but it feels like time stopped for a moment, like something changed.  He feels like he’s at the fork in the road, two paths ahead and a choice to make. They stay like that, her dipped in his arms for a few moments longer than necessary, before he gently swings her back up and sets her on her feet.

“Apologies, ma'am, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

His voice is as charming as the rest of him, was her first coherent thought after the tumble she almost took.  Even back on her feet,  heart is still pounding in her chest, the only difference is it’s not from fright now, but the handsome man who saved her, whose arms she can still feel around her.  She flushed with a combination of embarrassment and flustered pleasure.  He was tall, dark hair swept back neatly and the most beautiful blue eyes She’d ever seen.  The smile he gave  stole her breath away.

“It’s fine, you saved me,”  she blushed hotly as he grinned and introduced himself, kissing the back of her  hand as she gave him her name.

“But not your ice cream.” He pointed out apologetically, indicating the ruined cone at our feet.

“It’s all right, it was half melted anyway.”  She informed him with a shrug.

“Say, you’re not here all by yourself are you?”  he seemed to be looking around as he spoke.

“No, I came with my sister, but she’s went off with her fella.  I only came along so our father wouldn’t fuss.”

Bucky grinned knowingly at her and she rolled her eyes.

“Giving her some time alone with him?”

“Well, he’s shipping out tomorrow, didn’t see fair to not let the have one night before he’s gone.”

He nodded and bit his lip.  He knew exactly what she meant.  He’d have wanted his girl all to his self too if he’d had one.

“Well, since you’re at a loose end, how about I keep you company Doll?  Maybe win you something to make up for knocking into you?”

The question was charming but the pleading look as he offered his arm gave her butterflies.  She doesn’t think he’s the sort of guy who’s been turned down very often either and although she’s almost certain she’ll regret it, she takes him up on the offer anyway. There’s something about this man, all the surface charm seems to hide something vulnerable and sweet underneath it all, it calls to her, entices her to do something impulsive and daring.  The moment he’d caught her in his arms it had felt like she was some fairytale princess meeting her Prince Charming for the first time.  It’s a ridiculous notion, considering they’d only just met, but he gave her butterflies every time he smiled, her heart speeding up and her head full of fluff.

When she took his arm, her choice made, her life changed, her fate forever altered.

She’d been shy at first as he asked her about herself but before long her guard lowered and she relaxed, chattering away happily.   He put her at ease, made her feel safe, trust seeming to build and form from thin air.  At some point she’d let go of his arm and now his hand was a constant source of warmth at her back.  The longer they talked and laughed, the closer they drifted and the more aware she became of his body so close to her own.  

Each moment felt electric, each look and touch, a brush of finger tips or arms leaving her almost giddy.  When he suggested the Ferris wheel, even knowing what couples often did on such rides, she was too far gone to care about her reputation anymore, besides, just like her sister’s beau, Bucky would be gone tomorrow, this might be the only chance she gets with him, the only day.  She tries not to think about it too hard, the feeling of potential grief was already eating at her heart and they’d only known each other for a few hours. 

Standing in line for the Ferris wheel, he left her side for a few moments, she watched him speak a few words to the carnie, saw the extra few dollars he slipped him as she waited with a sort of nervous flip in her stomach.   

When he came back, the smile he gave her held a silent question and the hand he held out for her to hold, her silent answer, she reached back, fingers sliding through his into a warm grip.  He grinned and tugged her close, leaning down to kiss her cheek.  She bit her lip, and swore her heart skipped a beat when his lips brushed the corner of her mouth. 

Bucky knew it was crazy to think the time they had spent so far was anything more than a little fun, once last flirtation before the chances of such were gone for god knows how long, but even still, the way her hand fit in his was perfect, like she’d been made for him.  Was it too much if he thought he could see it in her eyes too?  This feeling or connection?  That is meant more, was leading to something nameless and sacred?  

He’s got nothing left to lose, thought the few extra bucks to the carne would be worth it even if all they did was hold hands the whole ride, but he was gonna try and charm a kiss outta her, even if it got him a slap, although from the way she blushed so pretty when he kissed her cheek he didn’t think she’d say no.

The whole way up on the wheel he held her hand tightly, she held herself, nervous and still until his other hand covered hers and she let him take it, his thumb tracing a soothing pattern on her skin as he wrapped his now free arm around her.  

Even though her heart was fluttering in her chest, she sunk into his side and let him hold her.   It felt safe, his strong arm wrapped around her, the warmth of his body pressed to her side, it felt right, natural even to seek that comfort and contact.  She doesn’t know what made her do it, gave her courage, but the impulse was too strong and she turned  to look up at him, wondering if he’d kiss her like she  wanted him to. When her eyes met his she suddenly knows that if he didn’t kiss her, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.

It took him by surprise when it was her that closed the gap between them.  The rushing of his own blood in his ears drowned out the sound of the people and the music, the touch of her soft lips to his, bold but shy.  He kisses her back quickly, almost afraid she might change her mind, taking control, deepening the kiss.  She’s all softness and pliant desire in his hold and he pulled her closer even as the boat rocks where they are suspended at the top. 

Away from prying eyes she lets him touch her, his hands carefully exploring her curves over her dress. The tiny whimper of need she lets slip makes his lips curl into a smile. He cups her breast and squeezes it softly and she gasps, his tongue licking along the seam of her lips and she lets him in, her fingers coming up to dig into his hair.  

It’s different, this kiss with this girl.    He’s kissed many a pretty dame, but this time he’s not thinking about whether she’ll let him get his hands up her skirt.  He’s thinking that she tastes sweet like summer wine, that the softness of her skin is like silk and that he wants more time, he wants to know her, all of her, inside an out.  She kisses back like she’s not sure, but instinct takes over as he steals her breath and the kiss becomes more and more suggestive. 

He wants to pull her into his lap and never stop this feeling that’s growing in him, like she’s some missing piece of a puzzle he’s been trying to figure out his whole life. The feel of her fingers running through his hair and down his chest igniting a need in him that is alien yet familiar, it’s like he’s known the taste of her before, ice cream and cherries and it’s like coming home and finding that what you wanted was there all along.  The jerk of the wheel starting again breaks their desire filled haze and they part, panting, staring at the other in surprised realisation.

He tucks her into his side as the Ferris wheel brings them down, she’s dreading having to get off, it means keeping a respectable distance between them once again and she’s not sure she can stand the thought of not being able to touch him now she knows what it feels like.  It had felt like there was more, the possibilities endless while they rode the little gondola to the top of the world, but now time has started again and though it’s foolish she don’t want this evening to end.  It’s not fair.  They need more time. 

He takes her by the hand now and doesn’t let go, they smile and laugh and visit every booth and stall, shaking off the constant tick of the clock, filling the hours they have left with as many good memories as they can. 

They buy hot dogs and sit by the beach, watching the sun go down and she realises she has no idea where her sister might be, but then he wraps his arm around her again and she forgets why it matters.

They talk as the light fades and the darkness closes in, sharing anecdotes and stories and secrets.  It feel like she’s known him her whole life. 

He walks her back to the entrance and by the gate she can see her sister waiting, she waves with relief when she spots her and she waves back, her pace slowing and Bucky stops with her.  

They both know this is goodbye.

He can see the resigned sadness as they come to a stop.  He doesn’t care what anyone thinks right now and when she looks up at him, he cups her face and smiles warmly.

“Come on now Doll, no need to look so sad, I like your smile.”

She blinks at him, her lips curving up even when a tear dashes against his thumb, musters a sweet smile and covers his hand with her own.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.”  She chokes out.

“Then don’t, say you’ll write me while I’m gone and when I get back we’ll do this all again.  Properly this time, I’ll call on you, speak to your old man, ask if I can step out with you.”  his eyes crinkle and his tone is full of cheeky charm but it can’t hide the bittersweet sadness underneath.

She laughs at his enthusiasm, the way his eyebrow quirks as though he’s saying the whole song and dance is a fancy unneeded pantomime and shakes her head, biting her lip.

He can’t resist the way her full lip catches between her teeth and dips his head to capture her in a kiss.  It’s fast and hard and she clutches him tightly as his arms enfold her in his embrace, every inch of her now pressed against his body.  Like her hand had before, the feel of her body caught against his feels right, like she was made for him and he for her. 

He walks her the rest of the way to the gate, greets her sister and finally says goodbye. 

It’s bittersweet to leave him, only the address clutched in her hand to where she can write him.  This time it’s a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth, but her sister is watching and she daren’t do what she wants, which is to turn her head enough to kiss him properly one last time.  

Each step away from him she feels more bereft.  The day had been magical, like a fairy tale, but now it was over and the cold reality of war and future cut deeper with each yard that separated them.  

Tomorrow they would be an ocean apart… but she’d write him, she’d write him every day and wait.  She’d wait forever if she had to, there would never be another man who could make her feel like him, that certainty was deep in her bones and engraved on her very soul.

He watched her go, restrained himself from running after her, calling her back and doing something stupid like asking her to come down to the courthouse with him.  It was an alluring thought and she would have said yes, but it wouldn’t be fair.  He couldn’t marry her and take her to bed and leave her all in a matter of hours, besides, he didn’t want to leave her a widow.  It was better this way.   He was going to come back he had something to fight for, he had to make it home.  Had to come back to her keep his promise. 

When he steps on the boat the next day, he hears his name on the wind.  From the deck he can only just make her out, standing on the dock, looking up at him.  He waves to her, heart in his throat and tears stinging at his eyes, he waves and then watches till he can’t even see the outline of the shore.  He’s gonna see it again, he’ll be back one day, back for her. 

The End.

@the-ss-horniest-book-club  @eurynome827  @loricameback 

[tisfan]

Anything Goes (and usually does)

Square: S2 - carnival Warning: hand job, sex in a public place, anal sex Pairing: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes Summary: A night at the fair, anything and everything goes... Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18098183 Word Count 2,665 For @tonystarkbingo

A/n - also for Bottom Bucky Fest for @hellyeahbottombucky 

“Bet you couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn,” the carnie heckled from the safety of his game’s box.

Bucky, who was eating a funnel cake, stopped dead. “Are you talkin’ to me?”

“Yeah, you with powdered sugar all over your gay rainbow shirt,” the guy smirked. “Can you throw, or just catch?”

Bucky glanced down; he was, in fact, wearing a Pride hoodie, black with the logo “Straight outta the Closet” on it. There were flecks of sugar on it, too. Which wasn’t shocking, funnel cake wasn’t exactly neat eating. He considered ignoring the guy -- mostly because he didn’t trust him enough to put his funnel cake down on the game-stand in order to play.

“This game’s rigged,” said another guy, this one leaning against the stand, eyeballing the hoops. He was fucking gorgeous, all luminous brown eyes, neatly shaved goatee, and sensual mouth,

“Probably,” Bucky agreed. “But if you hold my funnel cake, I’ll win you a teddy bear.”

“Deal, handsome,” the guy said. “It’s Tony, by the way.”

“You’re wasting my time,” the carnie said. “You gonna throw, or just run your mouth?”

Bucky unzipped his hoodie. “Hold this.”

(More below the cut)

“Do I look like a portable shelf-- woah, nice arm.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said, flexing it, listening to the servos whine and the plates click. “Three balls, ten dollars, can continue to throw as long as I don’t miss, right?”

“Yeah,” the carnie said, sourly, eyeballing Bucky’s arm. Top of the the line, prototype prosthetic. It probably wasn’t counted as cheating, but it was. The hardware that kept it functional was wired directly into Bucky’s brain. He couldn’t miss if he wanted to. He handed the guy a ten.

“Next time, don’t judge a book by its rainbow cover, asshole,” Tony said. He was already eating Bucky’s funnel cake, but that was okay. Bucky was going to be there for a while.

“That bear is bigger than I am,” Tony complained. Which was true. Bucky was carrying it, not quite sure what else to do with it. Tony was skipping along behind Bucky, trying to keep up, talking a mile a minute. “You were amazing, you were just-- wow, I mean-- that was amazing.”

“You ate my funnel cake,” Bucky told him. “You have sugar-- just--” He turned around so fast that Tony bumped right into him and was suddenly much closer than Bucky had anticipated, chin tipped up and mouth slightly open. Inviting. Bucky shifted the giant bear to one side, metal hand keeping it upright, and decided that someone who stole his funnel cake deserved what he got, and he licked the sugar off of Tony’s chin, and his bottom lip, and then-- they were necking.

In the middle of the fair, the middle of the midway, they were kissing frantically. Bucky’s free hand went down to cup Tony’s ass and pull him closer by that perfect curve.

“Get a room,” someone heckled, and Bucky pulled back. Astonished at himself for doing that. For Tony letting him.

“Wow,” Tony said. “Turns out you throw, you kiss, and you look good. What else can you do?”

“Just you wait,” Bucky told him, vaguely flirting, vaguely threatening.

Kisses in the midway lead to a hand on Tony’s thigh during the rickety little coaster, while Tony clung to his arm and buried his face against Bucky’s shoulder. “I am going to die on this thing, and won’t that be a fucking headline?” Tony groaned.

“Should make ya go on it again,” Bucky said, fingers and leg tingling from the close contact. And from carrying the damn bear. “Come on, back t’ my truck, I wanna drop this fuckin’ thing off before I tear it or somethin’.”

Tony linked his fingers with Bucky. “Sure-- your truck have a back seat?”

Bucky grinned, and brought him back to the Dodge Ram, huge and black and ridiculous. And Bucky loved it.

“This is your ‘I’m compensating for something’ vehicle, right?”

“Ain’t lackin’ nothing, sweetheart,” Bucky said. He tossed the bear into the passenger seat, then opened the back door. “Hop in, lemme take you for  ride.”

“Oh, we’ve moved on to cheesy pick up lines. I knew I liked you.” He climbed in, giving Bucky a look at that amazing ass, the way his jeans outlined it perfectly. It could have been framed and hung in a museum, it was a work of fucking art.

It wasn’t long before Bucky was fogging up the windshield of his own truck, with Tony’s hand down the front of his pants. Tony was rutting up against Bucky’s thigh and talking dirty in his ear when someone rapped on the glass.

The guy who stared in at them, glaring behind the flare of his flashlight, wasn’t a cop. Mall security with delusions of grandeur, maybe. Rent-a-badge with something to prove.

“I know damn well you two could get a room,” the man said. He put his hand on the butt of his pistol, like that meant anything. Like Bucky couldn’t take it away and make him fucking eat it. But it wasn’t the place.

“Yeah, just stopping in to drop off the prize,” Bucky said, jerking a metal thumb at the bear, as if anyone could possibly miss it, huge and furry as it was.

“Uh-huh. Either go back and spend money, or get the hell out of here,” the badge said.

“Sure thing,” Tony said, sliding out of the truck with lithe grace. “No need to trouble your head over us.”

Bucky recognized the tone of voice in someone offering a bribe, but Tony was slick. Bucky couldn’t see the hand off, but the badge just nodded, gestured for them to go the fuck away.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Bucky said, trying to walk in tight jeans with an erection that didn’t want to die down.

“I’m not ready to go to a shabby hotel with you,” Tony said, his hips swaying delightfully.

“What about a nice hotel?”

“Ask me again later,” Tony said. “Right now, I want you to blow me on the Ferris Wheel.”

Bucky about swallowed his tongue. “Are you even serious, right now?”

“Sure, why not?” Tony wondered.

“We’re going to get arrested,” Bucky pointed out.

“We’re not going to get arrested,” Tony said.

They did not get arrested.

But that was also probably because Bucky point blank refused to move from the gently rocking cart to get on the floor in the first place. As soon as it rocked harder as he shifted, he was done. No thanks.

Tony leaned against his side, though, and Bucky was able to unzip him, work a hand into the front of Tony’s pants, and work him over.

Tony casually untucked his shirt, letting the tails billow out and over Bucky’s hand.

“Yeah, you just lean here, baby,” Bucky told him, tucking Tony against his chest. He fit perfectly, a little spoon to Bucky’s huge hands and long arms.

Tony’s cock was smooth, velvet heat and hard against Bucky’s palm, even as Tony went soft and pliant in his arms. Tony made soft, urgent noises as he pushed into Bucky’s touch. Long, smooth pulls up the shaft, some thumbwork over the head. Tony sighed and shifted, teeth digging into his lip as Bucky worked him over.

“Yeah, like, oh, that’s so--”

“Look out the window and see the view,” Bucky insisted, every time Tony’s eyes fluttered shut behind those ridiculously lush eyelashes.

“Only thing worth looking at is right behind me,” Tony protested, but tried to look like nothing was going on. Just two guys, chilling less than five feet away.

Bucky licked at the shell of Tony’s ear, keeping his strokes even, steady, gradually increasing the pressure, the way he squeezed over the head. He didn’t want to rock the cart too much, or give the obvious shake of his shoulders, showing off what they were doing.

All too soon, the ride came to an end. Tony zipped but didn’t bother to tuck his shirt in, keeping the tail out to cover the obvious bulge in his trousers.

“We need to find someplace dark and private, like pronto,” Tony said, keeping his hand linked with Bucky’s.

“I’m down for that,” Bucky said, looking around.

“Bucky--”

“What?”

“Bucky--” Tony was practically yanking his arm out of the socket, which was more likely and less hyperbole than usual for that statement.

“What?”

“Look, look, look--”

Magic Maze: Hall of Mirrors.

And below it… Out of Order.

“Oh, no, no, no--”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Tony said, dragging Bucky off the midway and around behind the web of giant power cables and water lines, between trailers and along the back row, where only the carnies ever went.

It smelled even more like faire-- stale popcorn, cotton candy, animal shit, dirt, mud, sweat. Tony crept up to the door marked Staff Only and twisted the knob. It wasn’t locked.

“You know, there’s probably a reason it’s marked out of order,” Bucky said, but Tony slipped free and darted into the maze. It was dark as the inside of Bucky’s boot, and then a flash of color as Tony pulled out his phone.

Hundreds of Tonys in every possible shape and size stared around in wonder.

“Pretty cool, right Bucko?”

“We’re going to get lost in here and look like utter tools--”

“I am a genius, and we’re not going to get lost. Come on--”

Bucky moved quickly, bumping his fingers into two sets of mirrors before finally getting his hands on Tony.

Which seemed to be what Tony was waiting for, because the maze went dark as Bucky was pushed up against a mirror and kissed. Tony traced a line up Bucky’s arm, sending shivers along electronic nerves. “Isn’t this nice?”

“I think a bed would be nice,” Bucky pointed out, but he bent his head to accept another heated, eager kiss.

“Only if you’re in it with me.”

“Well, yeah--” Bucky said, playing with the strands of Tony’s hair, feeling the soft locks between his fingers.

“But right now, I’m in the mood for something dirty.”

“I like how that sounds,” Bucky said. “Got something in mind?”

“Come on, just back here--” Bucky was dragged off in the near darkness to a nook. Three enormous stairs led up to a crystal, perfect mirror.

“Here?”

“Brace your hands, spread your legs,” Tony told him.

Oh. Oh.

Bucky turned and sat down on the first step, cradling Tony between his knees, seeking more of those slow, deep kisses that got him dizzy and crazy with wanting. “God I love how you kiss,” Bucky confessed.

“You’ll love the rest of it, too,” Tony promised. “Now, do as I tell you.”

Bucky stood, unzipped and pushed his jeans down around his knees, spreading his legs. He bent, put his hands on the stair and let gravity straighten out his back.

Tony was already busy with a packet of lube, because of course he just happened to have it with him. “Yeah, you want this?”

“Want whatever you got for me,” Bucky said. “Gimme your phone.”

“You gonna take selfies while I’m giving it to you from behind?”

“Well, that’s an idea, but no,” Bucky said. “I just want to be able to see you.” He flicked through the apps until he found the one every concert-goer had these days; portable lighter, since no one smoked. He flicked it on, set the phone to catch the mirror, reflecting the pixelated fire back at them from a hundred directions.

“Gonna walk backward into hell and give God the bird,” Tony said, voice low and awed.

“Gonna get busy back there before someone walks in on us,” Bucky scolded.

Tony opened the lube, finally, and got to work, sliding one hand up Bucky’s cock, aching and needy, and the other over his ass, down his crack. “You are huge,” Tony told him. “I can barely get my fingers around you.”

“Do something else with your fingers, then--”

“Bossy bottom,” Tony said, teasing and then he bent and bit the curve of Bucky’s ass, eliciting a startled squeak. Tony felt him up and stroked him off, all the while working two fingers into Bucky’s ass. Each thrust made Bucky shake and his insides tremble.

“You keep doin’ that an’ I’mma come all over these steps,” Bucky warned.

“Oh, yeah, here,” Tony said. He handed Bucky a condom. “Wrap up. Less mess.”

When Bucky was slick and ready, Tony met his eyes in the mirror, sparkling with interest. God, he was so beautiful, Bucky was hypnotized, unable to look away. Tony put his hands on Bucky’s hips, guided himself in. Stretch and burn, still trapped by Tony’s gaze, Bucky wriggled and tested, pushing back at that heat and pressure.

It took a bit of shifting around, a muttered curse as Bucky had to bend further to get lined up, and then it was all worth it, slick and slide.

“You’re so tight,” Tony muttered. His hands cradled Bucky’s ass, holding him steady until they matched rhythms.

Bucky had strong thighs and good balance, but he was shaking in moments, arms burning as he held himself up for Tony. He could barely breathe as Tony fucked into him, over and again, pushing and thrusting. His cock bobbled gently in front of him as Tony’s thighs slapped against Bucky’s skin.

“God, Tony--” Bucky’s voice broke and cracked as he cried out, needing it, wanting it so bad. His body clenched against Tony’s, squeezing around him.

“Yeah, that’s good, that’s good, you wanton, you need it, don’t you?”

“You know it,” Bucky said, pushing back again, feeling full and stretched and stuffed. He ached for Tony, didn’t need anything else. Needed that cock the way he needed air, the way he needed water to quench his thirst. “Give it to me!”

“All you have to do is ask nicely,” Tony teased, getting a hand on Bucky’s dick. The condom squeaked as Tony rubbed him, practically pulling it off, but it wasn’t like it mattered, it was just to catch the excess.

“Please, please, come on, Tony!”

Tony was like steel inside him, hard and hot and perfect, and Bucky was whining with each stroke, taking it and taking it, god, so deep. He wriggled, adding the perfect counterpoint to Tony’s thrusts, and that was all it took, sending him shooting off, clenching in rhythmic surges.

“Oh, god--” Tony gasped, his timing dissolving into excited rutting.

Bucky nearly slipped, but managed to keep from face-planting into the stairs, gasping for breath. “Oh, oh, Christ.”

“You said it, love,” Tony said, sliding the condom off Bucky’s softening prick. “Here, deal with this.”

“And he calls me bossy,” Bucky complained, but held it twisted around his finger until Tony backed off.

“You look well fucked,” Tony told him, running one hand down the curve of Bucky’s ass.

“What a coincidence, I feel well fucked,” Bucky said, tying the condom off. There wasn’t a handy trashcan nearby. Gross. He pulled his jeans up one handed, half jumping back into them.

“You could just toss it on the floor,” Tony said.

“Don’t be disgusting, people have to clean up in here,” Bucky said. “You got a tissue or something?”

“No, but-- look, here.” Tony bent and picked up an empty candy box. “Stick ‘em in there, we’ll get a trash can on the way out. I’m gonna text Happy to come pick me up.”

“Or you could just ride back in my truck,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes.

“Get in a car with a stranger, I would never--” Tony responded.

“Asshole. We live together,” Bucky told him, like Tony didn’t know it.

“You’re breaking character,” Tony said. “I like the idea of hitting up a random sexy stranger. Makes me feel young again.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky told him. “I don’t think you’re ever going to grow up.”

“Love you, too, toots,” Tony said.

“I know,” Bucky said, drawing Tony in and stealing a kiss. “Love you, too.”

[crewhonk]

Touch (2)

Warnings: idiots to lovers, god bucky is so stupid. protective!bucky, jealous!bucky, Y/N’s friends are all vulgar frat boy sailors so like, NSFW themes ahead

Words: 3.1K

PART ONE

AO3 / TWITTER / CURRENT SERIES

___________

The first bottle of Grigio had barely even been opened before the girls turned all of their attention towards Y/N— prodding and poking for her to just tell them about Bucky. He was known in Brooklyn neighborhoods for being a flirt, for being smooth and pretty, but all of that went out of the window when Y/N walked into the room. When Bucky could see Y/N, he became a bumbling fool who had never actually had a successful conversation with a woman before. The smooth Tom Cat that was Bucky Barnes became a puppy with ears so long he would trip over them. 

“Seriously, I don’t understand how you can’t see it— Bucky gets all bumbling alpha male around you. It’s really sweet, actually.” Dorris said over her completely full glass.

Dot hummed, already curled under a blanket while Socks, Y/N’s cat, lay on the back of the chair, purring loudly enough for all of the women in the room to hear. “He never acted that way around me when we were dating. Jesus, he was still like that about you when his arm was on my hip.”

“Oh, whatever.” Y/N grumbled, not quite prepared enough to be on the hot seat this early into the evening. “He’s just protective. He’s like that way about Steve too!”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll give you that,” Dot said, “but Bucky doesn’t want to warm his cock in Steve, now does he?”

At Dot’s vulgarity, the girls squealed loudly, kicking their feet excitedly while all of Y/N organs flip-flipped in her body. 

“Good god, I’ve never in my life seen anyone turn this red before!” Victoria giggled. 

“I hate you all and I regret inviting you all over.” Y/N grumbled, pressing a bottle of white to her cheeks to attempt to cool them off. 

“Cock warming out of the picture— what about that time he almost punched Mark out at last years Christmas party?” Gladys sighed dreamily. It was true— Mark had had too much to drink at the party and had gotten Y/N alone against a tight space at the bar. Y/N had never been so uncomfortable in her life— his breath smelled too bad, and he seemed to be unable to just take a hint. 

The girls closest to her seemed to sense her distress, but before they could make any move towards her to pull her away from the situation, Bucky had appeared from the bathroom and zeroed in on him. His nostrils had flared angrily as he grabbed Mark by his disheveled collar and drug him outside of the venue, throwing him into the barren street and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. 

“You think you can touch a girl like that? My girl?” Bucky had snarled. Before Mark could even begin to defend himself, Bucky picked Mark up by his shirt and slammed him against the side of a parked car hard enough to set off the alarm. Someone cursed and hurried to shut off the alarm before anyone else decided to pay attention to the scene. The party had floated out of the venue to watch the spectacle, some of the braver patrons bringing their booze to sip while they watched what they hoped would be a marvelous fight. 

“I— N-no, Sir.” Mark rushed, gripping Bucky’s wrists and trying to pull. Mark was no match for him, however, as Bucky had just returned from three months of straight Army training— basic training it was called. He had returned three sizes larger, muscles stretching all of his old clothing uncomfortably. He was no longer the tall, lanky man who was known for his quick dance moves. He was known now as the same guy, just absolutely shredded with muscle. 

Just as Bucky raised a well-trained fist to collide with the mans face, Y/N had appeared, her soft touch wrapping itself around her best friends fist and her body wedging itself between the two men. 

“James. Not here.” Y/N had hissed. 

“He was touchin’ you—“

“This isn’t a back alley, James Buchanan. This is the middle of the street while all of my coworkers and their families are watching.” Bucky continued to glare over Y/N’s shoulder, only stopping his stare when Y/N’s soft hand came to rest on Bucky’s cheek. 

“Hey, Jamie. Look at me. I’m here. Hi. Let’s get outta here, yeah? Go see Ma and Papa— they have homemade bread.” Y/N said, talking him down expertly. His almost black eyes looked at her, and he released a harsh breath from his lungs while the blue-grey of his eyes began to return. 

“Hey, hi there, Honey.” Y/N had cooed. “Let’s go get our jackets and go get Stevie on the way home. There’s soup and bread callin’ your name.”

And with a nod, Bucky let go of Marks collar and spun around to collect his jacket, trudging back into the building with Y/N tight to his side. 

“Yeah, I think Mark peed himself after that,” Gladys commented, giggling at the expense of the office slimeball. 

“He so did! Oh, my God I had totally forgotten that. Has he spoken to you since?” Victoria asked, already beginning to feel the buzz of her whiskey. 

“He apologized the next morning— couldn’t even get a sentence out without looking over his shoulder. I think he was half expecting Bucky to jump out from behind a potted plant and stab him in the throat with a knife or somethin’.” Y/N submitted to the girls prodding and storytelling. Maybe it was the wine— maybe it was something else. Y/N figured that she hadn’t ever seen Bucky that angry before, and maybe a little part of her wished she had seen him in his full, raging glory. 

“Okay, okay. What about that time that he spent three bucks trying to get you that stuffed bear at Coney Island on July 4th?” Doris asked, her tough exterior beginning to melt away to reveal an eager (albeit nosey) young lady.

“Oh, the one with the red cape and blue suit and silver stars on its fur? Hold on.” Y/N asked, getting up and retreating briefly, only to return with the same bear tucked under her arm. She had slept with it every night since and had become almost dependant on it to get through the night without waking up. It was stupid, she knew, but the sentiment was sweet. 

“Oh, my God.” Gladys squealed, watching at Y/N curled up in her chair and tucked the bear behind her curled up legs. “You still have him?”

“Why would I throw out Captain America?” Y/N scoffed playfully, puffing up the little white tuft of white hair on the top of his hair. The girls giggled in response. “I tried for three years to win this guy— I’m pretty sure the only reason James could get him was because the poor carnie felt bad he was spending so much money.”

“And what’s up with that? He won that in 1936, right? That was before the Depression ended!” Dorris commented with wide eyes and a slur to her speech. 

“Bucky’s always been like that— he doesn’t seem to be able to get the concept that money is limited. He thinks that price isn’t a figure when it comes to happiness.” Y/N said fondly, taking a sip of her drink. The taste of the wine made her tongue curl in her mouth— she hated the taste of alcohol, but as long as it did its job, it was worth it. 

“I bet you the carnie was disappointed James didn’t even get a kiss at the end of it— probably the main reason why he let him have it in the first place.” Dot commented, knowing that the last comment would get a rise out of one of her best friends. That, and the use of Bucky’s real name. Y/N was particularly short of patience when it came to anyone calling Bucky James unless it was her, Steve or Bucky’s own family. 

“His name is Bucky, and why would I kiss him.” Y/N snapped, much to the girls delight. 

“He spent a whole two bucks on you at Coney Island at a stupid carnie game just to see you smile! Don’t you see it?!” Dorris all but yelled, sloshing booze onto Y/N’s already damaged hardwood floors. “Bucky’s been bitten by the loooove bug.”

“You guys are just being dramatic.” Y/N said quietly, busying herself with another drink of wine. 

“And you're not too innocent here either, Y/L/N,” Victoria said, raising her glass to point it accusingly at her friend. 

“Excuse me?” Y/N spluttered, barely even swallowing her drink. 

“Yeah, you constantly touching him in some way? You can’t go one day without playing with his damn suspenders. Jeez, you were practically leaning against him at lunch earlier today! Anyone with two eyes —maybe even one— would have been able to see how bad you have it for each other.” She continued. The rest of the party hummed in agreement, some even raising their drinks in solidarity. 

“Yeah, and you don’t see it, but he turns bright red every time you do touch him.” Dot smiled kindly. Y/N sat up a little straighter, some part of herself preening under the new piece of information. 

“…..He does?” Y/N asked, trying to pass the question off a coy and subtle, but getting a rise of shrieks and squawks in reply. 

“He so does—“ Dot chirps excitedly. “God, he looks at you like you hung the damn moon and sun. Steve took care of the stars in his eyes, but you? You’re responsible for the moon and sun and the waves and the reason the Earth itself spins— he revolves around you. It’s real sweet, honestly.”

There was a period of bated silence before Y/N spoke again, finally playing into the hands of her best friends. “Okay… so what do I do?” 

“Okay! Okay. So, have you guys kissed?” Dorris asked. 

“I mean, once or twice— on the cheek, stop squealing- Ms. Humphrey is gonna have my head.” Y/N hissed over the women’s commotion. 

“Holy shit okay. So, Ernie asked me to do this thing to him the other day— his construction buddies were talkin’ about it, but I never heard of it before, but it had him a mewling fuckin’ mess under me. It was amazing.” Dorris said, bringing a sudden anticipatory silence over the room. 

“Holy shit— you had Ernie weak? Jesus, he hasn’t been weak since he as a babe.” Victoria gasped. It was true— a well-known piece of information that Ernie was a glorious man— six and a half feet of nothing but muscle and hair. He was the same age as the women, but the way he carried himself and looked made him seem like he was a well-seasoned man. 

“I know, it was amazing.” Dorris half-moaned. 

“What’d you do?” Victoria asked. All the girls were eagerly waiting with bated breath on the edge of their seats. Y/N had turned bright red with excitement at the key to making a strong man moan— the idea of Bucky moaning under her actions was almost too good to be true. 

“Well, I got on my knees in front of him, and he got real hard and you know… I like, kissed him there and stuff.” Dorris fumbled, suddenly shy. Her vulgar personality suddenly replaced by a shy little virgin of a woman.

“You put his goods in your mouth? You nasty bitch!” Y/N gasped. She had never gone very far with a man— nothing more than a few kisses here and there— and at the age of twenty-one, still being a virgin was something that still gave her anxiety. Her mom had told her it was okay because Y/N had told her she was waiting for the right moment (unbeknownst to Y/N, her mother also knew of Bucky and Y/N’s stupidity). 

“Well, it had him havin’ a crisis in about three minutes— and you all know how long we can go for.” Dorris grinned, watching over the rim of her tumbler at the girls jaws on the floor. 

“Wow… I-- what’d it taste like?” Y/N said, hushed. It felt as if God would strike her down for her curiosity, but the idea of sucking a man off was all but unheard of. It was something that women making lives on street corners did— it was never something that upstanding citizens did. ‘But,’ Y/N thought, ‘they make good money for a reason.’

“Wanna be ready for one Mr. Barnes, huh?” Dot smirked. Y/N was surprised to see a blush coating her own cheeks because Dorothy never blushed. Y/N knew that she was thinking about how Bucky would taste, and a monster of jealousy threatened to wake in her stomach. Y/N knew, however, that Dot was fully for Bucky and Y/N getting over themselves, and would do no such thing to disrupt that. She had heard from both ends how far they had gone together (Dot had lost her virginity to Bucky— who, apparently was very gentle with her). Y/N tried not to blush at the information she had repressed. 

“Oh, shut your mouth.” Y/N groaned, eliciting a chorus of giggles and ‘awes’. The girls were also aware of how innocent Y/N was, and when Dot (the last to know) found out, she gaped at Y/N. ‘So you and, you know, haven’t?’ She had asked.

“Well, okay.” Dorris was bright red now and her nose was scrunched up in discomfort and thought. “It tasted salty? I guess? And a little musky? But it also just tasted like him— like his essence or somethin’.”

There was a period of silence before Gladys spoke up. 

“… His essence is salty?” And the girls crowed loudly with laughter. 

“No! God, you’re so annoying— I don’t know how to explain it!” Dorris laughed into her hands. The girls' laughter was brought to a violent stop as someone angrily knocked on the door.

“LADIES! Bed.” The landlady, Mildred Humphrey crowed through the door. She had ignored the several noise complaints that were brought to her, as she had a particularly soft spot for Y/N Y/L/N and her family— they had done so much for this boardinghouse and even participating in local charities which gave aid to women in need. But, rules were rules and it was eleven o'clock.

“Yes, Ms. Humphrey.” The women chorused, covering their mouths to stop any more loud laughter from keeping the tenants of the boardinghouse awake. 

“Goodnight, ladies.” Humphrey’s voice had easily lost its edge, and Y/N smiled in the direction of the door, not realizing that the landlady wouldn’t see it. It’s only another hour before the women begin to wind down under blankets and influence, and once Y/N had made sure all of her guests were comfortable, took Captain America to her room and fell asleep thinking (unabashedly) about the way Bucky Barnes may or may not taste. 

_______________

Bucky Barnes needed flowers. He needed someone to buy him flowers because frankly, his week had been god awful. Firstly, his Major had been on his ass about being late to work after lunch on Friday and had been assigned double physical training. Secondly, his Ma and Pa had been tense— the rising conditions of the war had them worried sick about him, knowing that if the president deemed it so, he could very well be sent overseas. So, thanks to some stupid little man with an even stupider mustache, his home life had been suffocating. 

And thirdly (most importantly, in his opinion) Y/N had been distant on all levels. She had canceled lunch on both Tuesday and Friday and said no to his request to go dancing later that night. He and Steve went to lunch both days, nevertheless, but they had been grossly unpleasant— Steve was on his ass, hounding Bucky and asking what he had done to piss her off. Between his interrogation, Steve was wracked with coughs that had him on the verge of vomiting— it was funny, Bucky though, because the only thing that stopped Steve from actually fighting God himself was his constant state of sick. 

“Seriously, James.” Steve groaned, looking grumpily at the empty chair where Y/N usually sat— beside him, and across from Bucky. “What the fuck did you do?” 

“I— I don’t know, okay? I walked her back to work last week, and we talked and stuff and she took my fag like she always does and then— oh, God.” Bucky groaned, leaning forward so much that his head thunked on the metal table. 

“What.” Steve moaned pitifully. God, if Y/N was pissed at Bucky, by proxy she would be pissed with him and an angry Y/N was never something that anyone wanted. 

“Dot teased us— said it was about time that we got together.” Bucky was sure Y/N didn’t like him now— not in that way anyway, and he truly didn’t know why the idea of her not liking him that way made him feel full of rocks. Steve blinked slowly at Bucky and felt it was appropriate in this moment in time to take the rolled up newspaper on the table and smack him over the head with it. The people sitting around them looked and furrowed their brows. Even the waitresses seemed concerned because as loud as they were, the three customers had become a great source of entertainment and happiness on their bi-weekly lunch dates. Now, the pretty dame was missing and the tiny, angry blonde was smacking the other boy with a newspaper— something was wrong.

“You’re so stupid, James Buchanan,” Steve grumbled, rising to his feet, tucking the paper under his armpit and coughing into his elbow. Bucky watched as his friend appeared to be leaving him, and quickly tried to defend himself. 

“It wasn’t me, Steve! I did nothing! It was Dot who said somethin’!” Bucky almost cried, trying to keep Steve with him— they had only been here for half an hour, and Steve wasn’t due for his doctor's appointment for another hour. 

“Exactly.” Steve hissed, and for the first time, Bucky held his breath in fear when Steve leaned in close. “You did nothing. Figure this shit out, Buck. I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you.” And with that, Steve Rogers left Bucky Barnes at the cafe, alone and confused. 

At least the waitress pitied him enough to give him his meal for free and send him on his way with another free cheese danish. 

[karnivalkrew]

Event: Bon Bon Voyage

The party was going great, in Beppi’s opinion. Sure, there were lots of people he didn’t really know, and he reluctantly had turned down any booze that was offered, for Bonnie’s sake, but he was rather enjoying himself. Being with his friends made him feel like he wasn’t being forced to stay in a character. 

Of course, the balloon always stayed somewhat close to Bonnie, wanting to make sure she didn’t feel unwelcomed or out of place, but he also did his best to make sure she didn’t feel like he was constantly breathing down her neck.

Yet as time went by, Beppi couldn’t help but notice Bonnie began to enjoy herself less and less. She looked uncomfortable. Like the novelty of the bash was starting to wear off. Bon Bon was feeling as if she’d been spending too much time away from her royal duties. Holiday or not, she was still Baroness, and she had important matters to take care of. The break was certainly nice, but she hadn’t expected this to last so long. Things weren’t getting done with her here, and she was growing anxious about it. Not to mention how her feet were hurting her now...But Beppi seemed so excited to have her here. 

Beppi caught her gaze and waltzed up to her with a smile.  “You worn out?” Bonnie cracked a small smile of her own, shaking her head slightly as she chuckled. “Is it that obvious?” Beppi placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “C’mon. I’ll walk ya home.” “Oh, no, it’s fine, I can just call a carriage.” She assured. “Nonsense!” Beppi waved. “It ain’t that far, just a short walking dead!”  “Ughh. Really?” The groan earned a giggle out of Beppi. Although, Bonnie could tell by the look on Beppi’s face that the offer was genuine. Beppi knew that he and Bonnie never got the chance to talk just between the two of them, so he figured now would be as good a time as any to do so. Besides, everyone was here anyway, so what’s the worse that could happen?

Bonnie nodded and accepted his offer. “Alright. If you’re certain.” “Great! I’ll let Djimmi know.” Bepp turned around, only to find the ex-genie dressed as a mummy, singing karaoke to Mysterious Mose on the stage. Beppi really didn’t want to wait for the end of the song just to tell Djimmi where he was going, and that he’d be back. He made a few hand gestures, but Beppi had the feeling Djimmi didn’t see him. Rats. 

A light bulb appeared above Beppi’s head as he got an idea.  “Oh!” He snapped his fingers, and a balloon appeared between his middle and pointer fingers. He inflated the balloon, and said something into the end before he tied it shut, pulled out an ink pen from behind his back, and wrote Djimmi’s name on it. Then he tossed it up into the air, and spiked the balloon towards Djimmi. He’d surely get that later when he was done.

Beppi stepped out the door with Bon Bon, his face relaxing just a bit, but a genuine smile still present.  “You ready?” “You do know the way back, yes?” “‘Course I do! We ain’t to far from Isle Two. It’s this way,” Beppi motioned, “C’mon!” Bon Bon wobbled on her heels slightly as she followed Beppi off the porch steps, and into the streets. “Slow down, you simpleton! I can’t keep up in these shoes!” “Oh right, heels.” Beppi remembered, stopping to wait for his friend. Surprisingly, Beppi knew Bonnie had never worn heels before, so he was going to go slow out of respect. He’d never worn heels, and considering how painful he’s heard they are, he had no plans of wearing them either. “Did you have fun though?” “Yes! It was quite enjoyable, but I’ve many things to take care of tomorrow...” “That’s understandable.” Beppi shrugged. “I’m just lucky that I have the day off tomorrow.” Beppi glanced over to Bonnie as she walked next to him. 

The two continued to converse as they made their way back to the second isle. For once, Beppi seemed rather relaxed to Bonnie. He wasn’t making a stupid pun or a silly joke every other sentence, that was for certain.  “This is nice, Beppi. I’m glad you suggested this.” 

Beppi however, wrapped an arm around the Baroness and gently pulled her closer to him. “Look slightly down, and be quiet.” Bonnie could hear a serious tone in his voice that sounded completely foreign  for him. If something was going to make Beppi, of all people, get serious, then she wasn’t going to question it, so she did as instructed.

Beppi tried to avoid eye contact with the trio of wolves that were walking past them. He didn’t recognize them, no, but with suits like that, they were either flatfoots or gang members. And as far as Beppi knew, any gumshoe would be wearing a trench coat in this weather. Either way, the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to him and Bonnie. Just act natural. He told himself.

Unfortunately, Beppi didn’t know them, and because of his curse, he had to fight to keep himself from smiling. The more anxious Beppi got, the more he could feel the corners of his mouth twitch and try to force their way to a smile, but the more his mouth tried to smile, the more anxious he got. He was starting to get scared, too, which only caused giggles to begin to bubble up inside him. Dang it, the stupid contract was burned over a year ago, why can’t the effects go away too?!

Luckily, the two passed the three wolves on the street. The feelings washed away, and Beppi heaved a silent sigh of relief. 

“Boss, did ya see dat lady with dat ugly joker?” “Yee. She sure looks miiiighty rich.” The middle wolf mused, a smirk holding the cigar between his teeth. “We gonna do somethin’ Boss?!” Another wolf beside him asked. “Of course.” The boss’s smirk grew even wider. “We wouldn’t be The Wolf Gang if we didn’t try and get some dough outta the valuables.” The trio turned around to face the duo behind them that was walking away.  “Eddie? Teddy? Give ‘em th’ Bums Rush. Just make sure the little lady gets finds her pretty little self in my possession.” “You got it, Boss!” The two other wolves lowered themselves, and suddenly rushed towards the two unsuspecting carnies.

Beppi was suddenly knocked forward when a wolf tackled him from behind. “Beppi!!” Bon Bon screamed, just before she felt a pair of furry, clawed hands forcefully grab her by the waste. “Ah!” “Good goin’ Eddie!” “Get off!! Unhand me you foul brute!!” She spat, trying to pry herself out of his grip. “Not so fast, toots.” Eddie growled, licking his lips. “Boss thinks you’re worth a pretty penny!” The wolf cackled. Bonnie looked around, trying to find a way out before her eyes locked onto her heels, then onto the wolf’s exposed paws.  “I said let! Go!” The Baroness stomped the heel of her foot onto the other’s paw, breaking the chocolate heel instantly. Eddie howled in pain as he let go of Bonnie, and held his foot in pain as he hopped on the ground. “And you!!” Bonnie quickly pulled out her trusty peppermint double-barreled shotgun from behind her back, and twirled it around in her hands. “Get off him!!” She screamed in a low voice as she whacked Teddy off of Beppi with the butt of her weapon. “Beppi, get up!! Are you hurt?!” She asked, pulling her friend off the ground by the hand.

Bonnie was rather off put by Beppi. He was holding his side as if he were hurt, but he was smiling.  “Beppi?!” Had he hit his head?! It didn’t seem like he had when Bonnie watched him fall.  “Let’s make like a banana, and split!” Beppi suddenly grabbed Bon Bon’s wrist, and began to run, but thanks to the broken shoe, Bonnie tripped, and would have fallen onto the wet ground if Beppi hadn’t have caught her. “Augh! My ankle!!” Beppi placed a hand on Bonnie’s back as he tried to help her stand, his whole body shaking as he started giggling. “Well, I guess it’s pain to see we can’t run!! Ahahahahaha!!”  “Why are you making jokes at a time like this?!” 

“Wadda we do now, Boss?!” Teddy asked. “Let’s give ‘em the ol’ Bada Bing Bada Boom!” The wolves each pulled out a bomb with a lit fuse, which could just barely be heard burning over Beppi’s laughter. Bon Bon knew there was no way to flee now. Not after twisting her ankle like she just did, so she raised her shotgun and took aim. 

One by one, The Wolf Gang threw their bombs at the duo, and Bon Bon managed to shoot swirling cotton candy puffs out that hit the first and second incoming explosives, but as the third one came in too close, Bonnie had to swing her shotgun around like a baseball bat to knock it away.  “Beppi, stop laughing and do something!!”  “A-aw, come on, Bonnie!! No need to be all gloom and boom all of a sudden!!” “Beppi, now is not the time!!”  "Nice heater there, sweet cheeks!” The boss grinned. “Let’s see how ya like mine.” The boss pulled a machine gun out from his back, and began firing rapidly, but the gun was too big for him, so the wolf ended up shooting in every direction. “Shoot!!” Bon Bon backed away, glancing around to try and find some sort of source of cover. “Bang reload!! Ahahahahaha!!” Beppi might have been laughing uncontrollably, but he still did his best to try and pull Bonnie back and out of danger. If only he didn’t have the strength of a party balloon. He’d be able to at least try and carry her to safety. 

What the duo hadn’t seen was Eddie sneaking around behind the pair while they were distracted, up until something struck Beppi in the side of the head, launching the balloon away from the Baroness. “Beppi!!” 

Beppi groaned as he struggled to get back up, before he started laughing even harder. He had to think of something!! Charlie was back in the carnival, so was Jerry, literally, anything he could use to fight was at the carnival! All he could do was signal his Balloon Dog Brigade, but he was laughing too hard to whistle! 

The boss stopped firing his gun and smirked, pulling out his pistol while the lady was distracted. Bonnie was about to fire at Eddie at point blank, but she saw the other pull out the gun in the corner of her eye, and quickly tried to shift her aim, but she was too late. The boss shot his pistol just as she fired, the letters B-A-N-G-! flew out of the pistol’s barrel, and into her shotgun, clogging it up and causing the peppermint to curl up around the sides with an explosion, completely destroying the weapon. “My shotgun!!” The Baroness exclaimed as she dropped her gun. 

“Take care a dat clown, Eddie!” The boss ordered.  “Makes sure he’s stays a witness!” “Right!” Eddie nodded, pulling out a nice, heavy anvil, and dropped it onto Beppi’s back, trapping him onto the ground. 

Beppi laughed even harder now. He struggled and squirmed, and fruitlessly tried to push himself up, but to no avail.  “Now then!” The boss marched right up next to the Baroness, and yanked her by the arms. “Yer comin’ with us!!” Bonnie screamed as she squirmed and pushed and tried to get away.  “Let go! Let go of me!!”

Beppi raised his head at that. His sides hurt like the dickens, but he just couldn’t stop laughing. Tears began falling from his eyes as he was forced to watch one of his best friends be dragged away by these bums.  “H-hehahahelp!! Ahahahahahahahahwahwhahelp!! Heeheeheehehehelp!! Somebody, hahahahahahahaha!! Helpaahahahahahaha!!”

“Eddie! Shut him up!” “Yes, Boss!” Eddie lifted a baseball bat up high in the air, before swinging it down onto Beppi’s head. Beppi felt the bat smack the back of his head, causing his face to slam into the pavement, then bounce back up into the bat again.

Beppi was just barely conscious after that. A few weak, airy chuckles escaped him as he watched the three wolves drag Bonnie away in a hazy vision.  “Hahahaha...Bonnie....” As Beppi watched the group get further and further away, laughs slowly turned into sobs, until his smile at last fell. “...Bon...nnh...” Beppi blacked out after that.

Event Start.

[shitloadsofwrestling]

Shitloads Of Wrestling Interview: The GymNasty Boys [May 4th, 2018]

I cannot explain The Gym Nasty Boys. There’s Timmy Lou Retton, a baton-twirling ribbon dancer who is a gymnast by day, pro grappler by night. Then, there’s White Mike. Attempting to explain him would be like chasing a fish across ice. He’s unpredictable in both mannerisms and in-ring action, but what puzzles fans about both wrestlers’ personalities is completely forgotten when the duo show what they can do in the ring. There’s a reason that The Gym Nasty Boys are tag team YAMpions in THREE different companies, and in this very fun, bizarre interview with one of the hottest tag teams going today!

SOW: First, let me start off by talking about how I first heard of you both. The first time I'd heard of Timmy Lou Retton was watching a video from when you took on Delirious and I see this jacked, stout fellow coming out with a ribbon, twirling it around and inciting anger in people. Then I get word from a Tumblr user that a wrestler by the name of "White Mike" is facing New Jack and immediately, I think "Wow, someone actually planned a murder!" With that being said, what was it that made you two insanely gifted and extravagant personalities come together to form your tag team?

RETTON: We were traveling with The Ugly Ducklings and we became close friends who loved being silly and wrestling. We were in a room with The Ugly Ducklings, The Carnies and The Heatseekers talking about the true art of Tag Team Wrestling. We decided that we would be a team that would be compared with some of the best today.

MIKE: We was just riding with the Ducks doing the same loopskis as them. Timmy and I would joke and say we should tag. We'd laugh about it but, we had some dope ideas.. We also started to become brothers and sexual partners.. That last part isn't true! Winky face.

SOW: Well I definitely feel like you guys have become one of the most talked-about tag teams, especially after Mike's Reddi-Whip incident...

MIKE: Timmy wasn't in that!

RETTON: Nasty by Association.

MIKE: I ate Effy’s toight azz for free!

SOW: True.. true... That being said, where did the name The Gym Nasty Boys come from?

MIKE: Timothy is a Gymnast. I'm nasty ASF! GymNasty. We're also hot lil’ boys! So, GymNasty Boys.

RETTON: What he said.

SOW: Makes perfect sense when you put it that way! Have you been threatened with any legal action from The Nasty Boys?

MIKE: Fuck them!

RETTON: They fabed us at NOLA during Wrestlmaia Weekend.

SOW: No kidding?! What happened there? This, I GOTTA hear!

RETTON: Tried to introduce ourselves and explain who we were in a since of paying homage to them and Saggs just blew us off.

MIKE: "Sue me." "Sue me." "Sue me." Ain't shit too it! I said “what up” and asked if we could get a pic... He didn't even look at me. Oh well. I'm a Public Enemy guy anyways.

SOW: That is TREMENDOUS. Do you think that a potential match against The Nasty Boys would bring in some serious attention or is that just me? Is that even a goal for you both, especially now?

RETTON: It was. Now? I'm just trying to surpass them as the TRUE Nasty Boys.

MIKE: I want it more than ever! We're nastier than they could ever dream of! Jimmy Hart ain't winning tag straps for us and Hogan ain't keeping our jobs. Run up, Nasty Boys!

SOW: The ultimate would be beating them with Jimmy Hart in YOUR corner. I bet I could almost make that happen...

MIKE: God damn, yes!

SOW: I was elated to see that the two of you became the first ever Fest Wrestling Tag Team YAMpions. Is that your first title as a pair? If so, what does it mean to you?

RETTON:  We actually won our first tag team Yampionships a week prior in SC. Beating the Ugly Ducklings. It means a lot to us because FEST Wrestling is a awesome place to wrestle and the fact we are the very first means we made history and no one can take that from us.

MIKE: It. Was. Amazing. Fest Wrestling means so much to us!! We're all invited to the party there! It's our second as a team. We actually won the APW Chester tag team titles in SC first. I think Feb 2nd and then we won The Love Cup and Fest titles the 10th. I was siiiiiiiick as funk! I love APW but Fest means more. Timmy was booked first and I wasn't even on our first Fest. We then came in as a team and busted ass to get that spot!

SOW: Fest Wrestling is by far one of my favorite places that I worked. It was where our group was formed, Mike. Rap Dads!

MIKE: Hard nipples!

SOW: I see you guys popping up everywhere. Hell, I've even managed you myself and it was an absolute blast. Where else do you plan to conquer next?

RETTON: We want to be every where. We'll be debuting in California May 5th for Maverick Pro and in Canada May 19th for Inter-species Wrestling.

MIKE: We want it all and we're hungry enough to take it! We wanna travel out of the country. We have a date in Canada for Inter species wrestling may 19th. We want more! CZW, OVW, Limitless, Impact, NXT, Raw, SmackDown. Literally every place that we can test our abilities in and outta the ring!

SOW: Alright, I gotta ask... Just between the three of us, Cardi B, am I right?

MIKE: Fuck her.

SOW: Did she, too, fabe you during NOLA weekend?

MIKE: Like, I'd bang her. No, she would be dope to party with!

RETTON: Yeah, her party game would be fun to test against ours.

MIKE: I'd eat cereal out her asshole.

SOW: When you're on the road, how often do you fight over what music you're going to listen to? What's the usual playlist consist of?

MIKE: We don't fight. We listen to damn near the same music. Easy as fuck baybee.

RETTON: No. We don't get into fights. That's why we work. I'm mellow and he is too. If we get upset, one of us says something stupid and laugh it off.

SOW: That's what's up. I dig that. Who has to tone the other down when you're "on"? Not just in the ring, but in life? Watching The Gym Nasty Adventures, I assume it's Timmy chasing down Mike most of the time.

RETTON: I'd say that's right. I can get crazy too but he stays liiiive beeeybay.

MIKE: We're pretty easy going. Just like most people reading this. I will get wild as fuck if it's gonna be one of them ones!  Like big shows or shit.

RETTON: Big shows, big name opponents or if we just want to kill it!

SOW: Have you ever gotten kicked out of Walmart for your antics?

MIKE: Not yet. We tryna get sponsored by them crackahs.

RETTON: Luckily, not yet. We get in and get out.

MIKE: We be getting wild as funk in there! Good deals!

SOW: Right on. Aside from winning the titles at Fest Wrestling, what's the absolute coolest moment for The Gym Nasty Boys so far?

RETTON: Taking on The Rock n Roll Express.

MIKE: Wrestling the Rock n Roll Express! That was so much fun and was a absolute blast! Childhood dream come true.

Banging fat chicks with no rubbers too. Fun as hell lil baybey.

SOW: That's totally understandable. I feel like a lot of people don't realize the treasure that is Ricky Morton and Robert Gibson. People need to take advantage of their knowledge while they can! I imagine you both learned a lot in that match.

RETTON: In the ring and outside. Everytime we see them they hug us and talk to us for 20 mins like we known them for years.

MIKE: Yes! Knowledge is power! Seek the keepers of this! Too much fun and a all around good time. (They hug you..Not me!)

SOW: That's what's up, man. That's pure respect for you both, for real. I'm sure after reading this, plenty of fans are gonna want to know where they can keep up to date with your schedule. Where can they do that?

MIKE: Every got damn social media machine you can think of! Type GymNasty Boys in the search gimmick and Boom! We're friends! Please send choccy milk money please! Winky face emoji.

RETTON: Indeed. Yambook. Instayams.  Yammer (Twitter). Black Planet. MySpace.

MIKE: Splitter or Split Her.

RETTON: If you're interested in booking us: fcgm.1988@gmail.com.

SOW: Alright, one last word for your fans, GO!

ALL: TIIIIIIIP!

[winterhawkkisses]

(AU) Clint goes from one foster family to another, until he ends up at Barnes' house.

(I suspect this wasn’t quite what you meant, but this is what I immediately thought)

(please excuse my faulty knowledge of... everything... I don’t so much research ficlets)

311.

Barney was long gone by the time the circus left Coney Island, him and Trickshot and a whole bundle of the circus’s payroll. Clint assumed that it was a final fuck you that had Barney calling CPS on him, ‘cos he was 16 years old and he’d been able to look after himself since he was just gone 7; they showed up when Clint was still in hospital, still not sure he’d ever be able to use his bow. 

Clint tried arguing, tried lying, tried - a pretty pathetic attempt - to run away, but he ended up being released from hospital into the custody of a woman called Annalise who drove him to the first one. 

He thought of them like that. The first one, the second one, ‘cos what kinda good’d there be in learning any names? He never stuck around long enough for them to matter. Willful, disobedient, a little too gay; the reasons were pretty unimportant, when they all led to the same damn thing. A string of foster homes where he didn’t want to be, where they didn’t want him to be, where he didn’t end up being for much longer than a week. Mostly he remembered moments, images: the lock on seven’s fridge, with the string on a key round her neck; the smile that kept on creeping up on three when they told him they were sorry, but they were focusing on the kid they were gonna adopt; ten’s dog. 

He’d liked ten’s dog. 

He honestly hadn’t expected it to be twelve that stuck. Not when he arrived slumped in the back seat of Annalise’s car that smelled of cheetos and teen angst, still simmering, quietly furious, ready to explode. 

The house was small and narrow, gray clapperboard and a stack of little windows climbin’ their way up the front door. Woman on the porch looked a bunch like all the other women on porches had looked: faded dress, folded arms, narrowed eyes. Clint hauled himself outta the back seat, pulling his duffel out after him and wrapping it up in his arms, and gave her the suspicious stare right back. 

“This is Clint,” Annalise said, all smiles that were edged around with strain, “and Clint, this is Ms Barnes.” 

Ms Barnes nodded her head a little, acknowledgement, and Clint didn’t move, staring her in the face before all the venom that’d been winding its slick route around the inside of him spat out of his mouth. 

“Something you should know,” Clint said, and Annalise turned, saw his expression, held out her hand. 

“Clint -”

“I’m a carny and a thief,” he told her, using the words like weapons, “I don’t believe in any sorta god and I wanna fuck boys. Got a problem with any of that, you got a problem with me -” a prayed over, shouted down problem; a locked in, boxed ears problem; a 9-1-1, he’s got a knife fuckin’ problem - “and I’ll just see myself out right now.” 

��Call me Nancy,” she said, and there was something that looked like approval in her eyes. “Fetch yourself some juice from the kitchen, Clint, and me and Annalise will have a talk.” 

There was a jumble of shoes just inside the door, but Clint didn’t bother kicking off his sneakers - he wouldn’t be staying. The kitchen was straight through to the back of the house, all the doors between propped open, and the last sunlight was laying in stripes across the floor. The refrigerator didn’t have a lock, at least. 

There was juice, a couple flavors, in the refrigerator door, and a pitcher of home-made lemonade on the shelf. It had a little bit of lace sitting on top, weighed down around the edges with blue and green beads, like Nancy was a whole bunch older than she looked. 

(Fuck names. Twelve. If she was even that.)

He found a glass on the drainer and poured himself a drink, fishing out a couple mint leaves that floated on top. He pushed his way out through the screen door, setting his duffel down on the step next to him, and rested his head against the white-painted railing. 

He was tired, mostly. Mostly, he was tired, and counting down the days until 18. What he was gonna do then he had no clue, hadn’t thought that far ahead, but he had his bow at least. Maybe he’d find another circus; maybe he’d try to find out where Carson’s had been. The number of beds between here and there meant less than nothing, and the stinging in his eyes was just from the inconvenient fucking sunset. That was all. 

When they called him into the living room he rinsed his glass out on the way through and put it back on the drainer, ‘cos he was used to not leaving a sign behind that he’d ever been there. Annalise was perched on an overstuffed couch and Nancy - Ms Barnes - fuckin’ twelve - was in an ugly-ass armchair. Clint stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. 

“Ms Barnes would like to offer you a place to stay,” Annalise told him, and Clint’s head snapped around to look at twelve, twelve now, at her scraped back white hair and her generous mouth and the odd little smile at the corner of it. “Would that be okay with you, Clint?” 

“I - er.” Uncomfortable, a little embarrassed, a little - unexpectedly - sorry, Clint rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah,��� he said. “I guess.” 

*

“So what was it?” he asked, as he followed her up the narrow stairway, his bag still clutched tight to his chest. “The looks? The charm? The fact I’m a fag?” 

She turned around in the hallway and glared. 

“I don’t call myself ‘Ms’ ‘cos I’ve been divorced, Clint,” she said, pissed, and it took him a second for that to sink in. 

“Wait, and CPS still let you -”

“Why, you gonna tell them?” She rolled her eyes at his gaping, but he could tell she was a little amused. “This one’s you.” 

The window looked out over the little scrap of land that could generously be called a garden, filled as it was mostly with trash cans and weeds. There wasn’t much - a narrow bed, a dresser with more of that lace stuff on top, a framed photo of a guy in a uniform. Clint picked it up to take a closer look at it, noting the resemblance, noticing the mischievous curl to his mouth, noticing the line of his jaw. 

“Wow,” he said, involuntary, and then cleared his throat when she laughed at him, his cheeks flushing blotchy red. 

“Little out of your age range,” she said. “That’s my older brother Jimmy, MIA in the war.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, a little surprised to find that he meant it. 

“So were we,” she said, “but it was a long time ago. I can take it if you -” 

“Nah,” Clint said, “leave it. Not like I’ve got any to replace it with.” 

“Plus he was hot,” she said, one eyebrow raised, and Clint found himself startled into a laugh. 

“Plus he was hot,” he agreed.

[fictionalfriction]

Am I But Second Best

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pariring: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson

Characters: Clint Barton, Phil Coulson, Steve Rogers, Jasper Sitwell, Natasha Romanoff, Nicholas Fury

Summary: (Prompt from @purpleli93) Established Clint/Phil, before captain America was found. Then they find captain America, Clint thinks he is gonna loose Phil (even though Phil is madly in love with Clint, he considers him “the one”) to captain so tries to enjoy the time they have left and looks at Steve wishing he could be him so Phil could love him forever, but Phil catches those glimpses Clint gives captain America and thinks Clint is falling in love with Steve. Phil thinks it makes sense, since Steve is younger, handsome, kind, etc. So both wait until the other wants to break up until one can’t take the wait anymore and explodes in angst then they talk and happy ending!

(I saw this prompt and couldn’t help myself from hijacking it :P.)

(PS: It kinda ran away from me .It was supposed to be a short fic but now it seems to want to expand itself into a long fic. I am going to post it in parts as I finish writing them. )

It was barely four when the muted beep-beep of an incoming message on the phone jolted both men awake. While Clint blearily stumbled towards the attached bathroom, Phil took the phone and swiped it open to glare at the too-bright message. 

It had been a good night. They had been able to get away from SHIELD for once (Phil filed away all those tasks which did not required immediate attention for later), spending a lazy day in each other’s company. A dinner at Tanto’s where they had their first date, appropriate for their fourth anniversary. Then a movie (which they did not spent kissing; they weren’t teenagers, thank you very much).They had tumbled into bed when they came home, passion for once not deadened by fatigue.

Then they had gotten less than an hour’s sleep when Phil’s phone woke them up. This better be an urgent matter that couldn’t be handled by anyone else, Phil thought furiously. He had specifically asked for two days off: anniversary and the day after, with instructions that he was unreachable unless something urgent and essential came up.

He pulled up the message and very nearly dropped the phone. “Holy shit!” he not-yelped. Clint stuck his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush sticking out the corner of his mouth. “Mmrrhmrrm?”

“They found Captain America!” Just like that, Phil was wide awake. So was Clint, by the way his eyes got comically big. Phil was staring at his phone in amazement but Clint knew it wasn’t going to last long. Phil Coulson was a man of action and this occasion would not be any difference.

Sure enough, half an hour later Phil was already on his way to SHIELD. On a day off with plans made months ahead. Clint did not offer to join; no point, he thought. He knew how big a fanboy Phil was over Captain America. And now, with news that they found Captain America alive though frozen (he was still trying to wrap his head around the alive part), Clint would be surprised if they were able to drag Phil away from Medical short of a crisis.

Clint saw Phil off (how domestic they had become), then return to tidy up their apartment. Phil’s apartment, he thought with a pang. Even though they have been together for four years, they still kept separate lodgings. Phil had never mention moving in together and Clint had not wanted to rock the boat, treasuring the relationship over any tangible proof. But now he wondered whether he made a mistake, whether the newly returned Captain would cause him to not have a boyfriend any longer. No, he thought firmly to himself. Captain America had always been portrayed to be honourable. He would not steal another’s treasure.

But what if Phil left? A small poisonous voice piped in the dark recesses of his mind. What if he saw Captain America and realized that he can do so much better than a carnie? What then? Clint slammed the washing machine close over the load of laundry he just pushed in. He wondered whether he would be able to let Phil leave if he wanted to. No, he strengthened his resolve. If Phil wanted to leave, he must let him leave. After all, he had always known that there was no forever for them. Phil was so refined, smooth and competent; while he was a rough carnie who could barely read and had relied on Phil to teach him the letters when he first joined SHIELD. Phil was way outta his league and he was still surprised that Phil had asked him for a date in the first place.

Phil strode into SHIELD with his usual calm confidence. He kept his face expressionless as junior agents scurried out of his way while the senior agents nodded as greetings. He nodded back at the senior agents while noting the reactions of the junior agents. He gave an internal sigh; he will have to organize training again for the junior agents. They just cannot maintain the blank facade so essential to their secrecy.

The lift dinged then, opening onto the fourth floor. Medical. Unlike other areas of SHIELD, Medical was always orderly and clean. Until some mission or other went FUBAR and then Medical would be worked to its maximum capacity. Today was clearly not one of those days.

Medical was mostly empty, the few agents seeking medical attention due to training mishaps rather than mission based injuries. Only the furthest ward was bustling with people and that’s where Phil was heading.

“Sitrep!” He barked, as a way to gain their attention and some information. “Sir!” A junior agent disentangled herself from the crowd. He looked at her. Agent Brown, a good agent from what he saw and heard, but horrible with first aid. Why in the world was she here?

“Sir, my team was assigned to Project: Rebirth for this month. On the 5th, one of the researchers said he think he found something up north so we all swung up to where he thought he detected something. It was up near north pole and so damn cold. Then, two days ago, on the 17th, one of the patrols found a wing sticking up through the ice. It took the team a day and a half to cut through the ice and identify the air craft. Then Orwell and Jones went in. They found him, sir! It is really him! Captain America!” Brown started off professional enough but at the end of her report, the tiniest hitch and a slight change in tone alerted Phil that she was not as calm as she would like him to believe. Not a bad attempt for a Level 3.

Of course she wasn’t calm. He was not calm and he was a Level 8. Captain America by gods. The symbol of all that was good and worth protecting, the symbol that the little guy can do something and deck a bully as well as anyone. Phil took a breath and stepped forward, the crowd parting in front of him. It was an ability he cultivated, enabling him to slip through crowds quickly and without fuss which had proven useful in more than a few missions.

A few quick steps, and he was standing in front of Captain America. S teven G. Rogers, his mind whispered. He certainly did not look like he can deck anyone right now. For one, his chest was barely moving. For another, he was hooked up to a lot of machines and from what Phil can understand from the monitors were not good. His vitals were too low, That would explain the crush of medical personnel around him.

Phil silently withdrew. He can do nothing for now. It would be more useful to go back to his office and start the paperwork to get Captain America declared alive again. He knew that this case will almost certainly be assigned to him; Fury knew of his obsession with Captain America and had a weird sense of humour.

Speaking of humour, Phil couldn’t help but be reminded of Clint. An expert marksman, the quiet young man he brought into SHIELD had blossomed into a confident and playful young man. Mischiveous and lively, Clint made a hobby of scaring the baby agents out of their skin. “To train them for constant vigilance!” he would protest whenever anyone try to tell him off.

Phil couldn’t help the small smile at the thought of Clint. Gods, he loved him so much that it scared him sometimes. Clint had seemed a bit off however. Perhaps it would be better if he returned to Clint. After all, the paperwork wasn’t urgent. One of the doctors had given him an estimate of two weeks before the good Captain would even be lucid to answer questions.

His mind made up, Phil quickly grabbed his stuff and prepare to return. Perhaps they can still salvage something of their leave.

A/N: This will be a multi-chaptered story I think. Shouldn’t be too long though, maximum is around 4 to 5 installments. (Sorry, @purpleli93. Do you want me to tag you in the other chapters?)