#Bucky is the one who stole Steves Card anyway | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

infernal-fire · 3 years

Text

TAU (1/2)

Summary: Steve Rogers traps you inside his mansion. Your only means of escape? The naïve A.I., Bucky, that is designed to kill you if you ever step out of line.

Pairings: Dark!CEO!Steve x reader, A.I!Bucky x reader, Bucky x reader

This is part of a series of works (not interconnected). I highly suggest you read the description of the series master list to better understand the premise of this story.

Warnings: swearing, kidnapping, mention of sedative, technical Lima syndrome, psychological abuse, violence, blood, character deaths, injuries, mention of depression, suicide & poverty

The chair was on the brink of collapsing, yet Martha folded her arms and leaned back into it anyway. You internally grimaced, waiting for her to fall flat on her ass or give you the bad news. It had to be bad news. You had done this enough times to know that she periodically bounced her right leg only when there was bad news. These days, that was often.

You huffed once, loud enough for her to hear, hoping to hint that you were hanging by the threads of your patience. She took the hint, finally throwing open the drawer in front of you with excessive force. Pens rolled and a notebook slid towards her amid the force. Again, another piece of furniture that was ready to give in. For someone as stingy as her, you aren’t surprised that it hasn’t been replaced - just wondering why she’s treating it like it won’t disintegrate any second now.

Martha’s plump fingers slapped a couple of bills onto the table, her seedy eyes challenging you to pluck them from under her hand. You wrestled the bills out of from under her palm and diligently counted them, only to shake your head defeatedly.

“That’s it?” you snarled.

“Steal better shit next time,” she replied, shrugging.

You slowly sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, refusing to open your eyes and face her.

“I really need the money.”

When you open your eyes again, it’s because you hear the roll of her weathered chair. Now standing full height, the middle-aged woman shook her head softly, a hint of a smirk playing out on her lips.

“Like I said; steal better shit.” She turned to leave before facing you again. “You could always come and work with our girls.”

She glanced through the door that was cracked open, eyes resting on the table situated in the corner of the adjacent room. Around it, a group of girls set down cards while pushing poker chips around.

“Sell my body? I’d rather die,” you scoffed.

“Suit yourself. Now, get out.”

“Was planning to.” You flipped her the bird, knowing that she was watching you leave.

“Real classy,” she called after you. “You gotta come back here for your next week’s dinner, you whore!”

“That’s all you,” you smiled at her before slamming the door closed on your way out. Oh, the satisfaction of pissing someone off; unparalleled.

Placing your measly wage into a makeshift purse, you made your way back home. You hugged your frame tightly, keeping your head down and pacing through the dilapidated neighbourhood.

Once upon a time, when you were new to the shadier areas of town, you affirmed to yourself every day that this situation was temporary. The hope for a better job, better apartment and better tomorrow kept you going for a long time. Deep down though, you knew it wasn’t temporary, and now you were being proven right every day. What was keeping you going these days? Multiple times, you delayed the contemplation of that question, knowing that if you thought about it… well, it’s better to not go there.

You were careful to double-check the lock on your door and windows when you stepped into the cramped shower. Today, you thanked God for hot water, even though you were sure he didn’t exist. Mind empty like a brand new chalkboard, you shuffled around your one-room housing and put together something edible to appease the churning stomach.

Your ear perked up at what sounded like the creaking of the fourth floorboard from your bed. You locked the door. You were sure of it.

Still, you peeked over the short dividing wall that hid the view of your bed from the kitchen. Nothing. You shook your head at your paranoia and turned back to get to the less-than-appetizing meal waiting for you.

Steve jammed the needle into your neck, expecting you to fall back into his arms. Instead, your forehead hits the edge of your counter and you slump onto the floor. Your eyes shutting down and head throbbing, you reach out to feel your attacker and touch Steve with saucy fingers. He groans in annoyance as he picks up your whimpering form.

Thump, thump, thump.

The nightclubs you frequent were full of snobby, rich kids who didn’t know the value of wealth. You stole to survive. They could survive without their wristwatch for one night.

Thump, thump, thump.

Music turned the speakers inside out, deafening those closest to it, but the youth are resilient to damage in any form. For you, though, it was too loud; too much. It wasn’t uncommon of you to walk away from the scene with a pounding head.

Thump, thump, thump.

The inside of your head resembled the thumping of club speakers. Jaw slack and eyes foggy, you tried to rub your temples. But your arms wouldn’t move.

Sitting up the best you could, you looked down at your hands to see them bound by zip ties, sitting on your lap. It was joke-worthy how your captor thought they could bind you with zip ties, of all things. He would have to do better than this.

You tugged on the end of the tie using teeth and tightened it some more before huddling your knees up to your chest. Bringing your hands down as hard as you can against your kneecap, you awaited the snapping sound of the zip tie. Nothing came. You look at your hands again, realizing that they were still bound.

“Don’t do that,” a voice piped up from the dark corner of the room. Startled, you look to the source of the voice but no light fell in that direction. For the first time, you took in your surroundings: half of the room was divided by a set of bars. The other side had large machinery with wires running towards the jail section. As you trailed your eyes across the wires, you noticed a closed door.

At least you knew it was possible to escape now.

Quickly turning to the place the voice came from, you scooted backwards some more and anticipated the arrival of your captor.

A woman crawled forward slowly with bounded legs and arms like yours.

Seeing that it was just another prisoner, you tightened the strap of your zip tie again and tried breaking it one more time. It snapped. Rubbing your wrists where they were bound, you got straight to undoing the bind on your legs. Beside you, the girl moved closer and repeatedly begged you not to free yourself.

“Shut up, Brit,” you mumbled, referring to her accent.

The bind on your legs gave away and you stood up and stretched. Tentatively stalking around the cell, you noticed the toilet and sink. Why would he have those amenities in here if you were tied up anyway? When you went to touch the bars separating the room, the girl cried out again.

“Stop! Don’t!”

You rolled your eyes and touched it anyway. Electricity surged through you and you yelped, pulling back immediately.

“Could’ve told me it was an electric gate,” you snapped.

“Don’t try to escape.”

You looked at her incredulously. “And sit here like ducks, waiting for him to kill us?”

“Someone will find us!” she pleaded.

“Look at me! Look at you! No one is looking for us. The police won’t blink twice if people like us are gone. And he knows that.” You eyed the door that was inside your cell and looked to the other one outside the bars.

“Do you want me to remove your binds or not?”

The girl sheepishly looked down before sticking her arms out for you.

“My name is Peggy,” she offered as she stood up. She held your arm for support when blood rushed to her head. You shot her a withering look in response and she took her hand off.

“I don’t think we can leave. He can probably hurt us with these implants.” Peggy pulled her hair to one side and showed you the nape of her neck. A glowing red triangle shone from under her skin.

Your eyes widened, immediately reached for the back of your head. You felt around and touched the area that stung a little when you touched it. You compulsively hissed, realizing that your implant was fresh and the skin around it had not healed yet.

“Has he done anything to you using the implant?” you held and shook Peggy’s shoulders while you questioned.

“No, no, but he said it collects brain data and that it was connected to my spinal column, so I shouldn’t try anything.”

“He spoke to you?”

“Once. It’s Steve Rogers, the inventor guy on the cover of all the Forbes magazines.”

“Brain data,” you silently repeated as you look to the other side of the cell again.

“I have an idea. Rip your clothes like this,” you demonstrated.

Using the rags ripped off from both of your prisoner uniforms, the pair of you created a long rope-like contraption with a loop on the end. You stuck your hand through the gaps in the cell and tried to fling the loop to a nook in the machinery. Failing hurt, your arm accidentally brushing against the metal once or twice before the loop finally caught onto a crevice.

“That’s the wrong part,” your fellow inmate breathed.

“Yeah, but that’ll work too.” You pulled as hard as you could and a section of the machine broke off, sparks flying from the source. It crackled and caught on fire.

Peggy was pulling the cell door open, grunting as she tried her best. It gave way and you both looked at each other briefly before dashing out of the room. The jail room went up in flames behind you. Peggy looked over her shoulder, but you yanked her arm, signalling her to keep running.

You flew up stairs and through doors, finally making your way into a clearing. Peggy rushed to what seemed to be the entrance door and frantically banged on it.

“HELP!”

“That’s not gonna work!” you rushed to the door and inspected the lock. On the right side, there was a screen that displayed a handprint.

Do not try to escape. Only Steven can leave the premises.

“What?” you whispered. The new voice was coming from all around you, seemingly through fixtures in the ceiling and walls, but you couldn’t be sure. The situation was tense and you were scared the whole house was going to burn down.

Before you could catch her, Peggy planted her hand on the screen which scanned and turned red. Suddenly, all the lights emanated red, accompanying a booming alarm that blared through the house.

In the distance, what you assumed was a statuesque décor piece, came to life. It reminded you of the spiders from the Maze Runner. A motorized killing machine. It stalked towards Peggy and you with pincers appearing from its side.

Screaming, Peggy ran. So did you, but you weren’t sure if you were screaming. You couldn’t hear through the noise your friend was making on top of the deafening alarm.

The spider machine stuck out its knife-like hands, trying to stab you. As you ran into another room, you frantically searched for an exit. Right now, your priority was to survive this thing.

You pulled open a cupboard in what appeared to be the study and instructed Peggy to climb in. The monster was coming. There wasn’t much time to hide.

You shut the closet door and hid behind a lounging chair in the corner.

The machine came in and scanned the room, looking for your heat signatures. It could see Peggy.

The cupboard door flung open and Peggy shrieked, crawling out of it in attempts to move out of the line of attack. She took 4 steps on her knees and looked straight into your eyes.

“HELP ME-”

You screamed when she was dragged back towards the machine. You couldn’t save her anymore. You mobilized and ran back to the living room area, not even turning back to address blood that splattered across your back. It wasn’t in your best interest to find out how she was killed.

“Aries!”

Frozen in fear, you look to your right to see the entrance door open. There stood your captor, staring at the machine that was now hovering over you.

“Stop,” he muttered and set down his briefcase.

Aries retracted its pincers, making its way back to the little pedestal it was perched on before. It powered down just as the CEO stepped into the house and glared at you.

For a split second, the doors were open, and you considered tackling past him.

“Don’t even think about it.”

You collapsed onto the floor where you were already lying down. Getting out was going to be a lot harder than you anticipated.

Your hands were bound again, but this time, behind you. You were seated on a pedestal like the one Aries was on, except this one had an ugly glass décor piece that extended to the ceiling. You tugged on the bonds, hoping for some leeway, but Rogers had learned his lesson.

You shook your head side to side, trying to get pieces of hair and blood off your face. Eventually, you had to give up, slumping into the post your arms were tied to.

“You cost me 7 million dollars worth of tech,” Steve’s voice sounded from another room.

“If you let me go, I swear on my life I won’t tell anyone. They won’t believe me anyway.”

He appeared in front of you and placed both hands on either side of your thighs.

“Things will work out for you, if you just… shut up.”

You exhaled and turned your face to the right, hoping he’d stop invading your personal space.

“Just… please, untie me.”

He stood back and considered your request before rounding the side of the pedestal and untying you.

“Bucky?”

Yes, Steve.

“Activate Aries if she moves a single inch from her spot.” He eyed you at the end of his command and sauntered away to god-knows-where.

You hoped it wouldn’t be pushing your luck to stand up and stretch, so you did. You mentally considered the various stretches you did as a child, during gymnastics. It had been years since you recalled those, so you did them to the best of your ability. It’s funny how life works. One day you were among a row of girls, learning how to do a cartwheel and before you know it, you’re in a psycho’s mansion as a lab experiment.

About 30 feet away from this pedestal was Aries.

Cautiously, you took a few steps away from your place. No reaction from Aries. That meant ‘Bucky’ and Aries weren’t the same thing. You could also deduce from Steve’s command, Bucky was capable of conversing.

Do not take another step forward, Subject 10. I have been told to inflict pain if you move from your position.

You took another step anyway, wondering how much you could test the limits of this A.I.

Do not take another step forward, Subject 10. I have been told to inflict pain if you move from your position.

You considered making a run for it but reconsidered. Aries would activate in less than 5 seconds and Steve was still in the house somewhere. You needed to play this better. Besides, you didn’t even have an exit point.

You went back to your pedestal and sat down, drawing patterns on the ground with your feet. It would help to know the time or date. A part of you wondered if anyone was looking for you, but you yourself had answered that question long ago. No one looks for people like you or me.

It could’ve been hours or minutes, but finally, Steve called you into a different room. You observed your environment as you stalked towards the kitchen area where the inventor was seated.

“Sit,” he motioned at the chair that was on the other end of the table.

As soon as you sat, tiny robots flew to your seat and placed food in front of you. It was some sort of soup with a side of bread, the only utensil he gave you being a spoon. Smart bastard.

You wanted to hold off on the food; you really did. But you didn’t even get to eat the sandwich that you were putting together before the kidnapping. So you began devouring the meal, ignoring his pointed stare at your lack of table manners. It was only when you were halfway through the meal did you realize that the food may be drugged. Too late now.

“You killed my only other test subject and rendered her data useless.”

“I didn’t kill her.”

Steve dropped his steak knife and fork, shooting daggers into your eyes.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he began. Clasping his hands together, he leaned forward, supporting his weight on his elbows. You could tell by the way he talked that he was used to getting what he wanted. He relished in it.

“Every day, for the next two weeks, I’m going to leave for work. And every day, you’re going to complete the puzzles and tasks that Bucky tells you to do.”

“And if I don’t?”

“It won’t take me more than 10 minutes to kill you, clean up the mess and dispose of your body.”

“If you could kill me, you probably would’ve. I know you considered it,” you remarked, leaning back into your chair and folding your arms.

“Now, why would I waste a perfectly good test subject?” It was his turn to mimic your body language.

“If you want me to do what you need me to do, I need three things,” you announced.

“It’s funny how you think you have any leverage in this situation.”

You kept your face stoic, trying to prove that you were serious about the negotiations. If he didn’t allow you these requests, you would never escape.

“Okay, go on,” he said, clearly amused.

“I need clothes. Regular clothes, not prisoner uniforms. I need to shower. And I need proper food, like what you’re eating.”

“That’s quite the list.” he laughed. Abruptly, his features turned serious. “I hope you know that you don’t hold any cards against me right now, and if I allow any of those things, it’s out of the kindness of my heart.”

It was your turn to laugh. “The kindness of your heart,” you wheezed between laughs. “Sure, okay. Yeah.”

He swallowed the last piece of his meal and gestured towards the sofas.

“Bucky will be guarding you throughout the night. Don’t think of trying anything.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you beamed at his sour expression right before leaving the table.

Masterlist

#dark! steve rogers #dark mcu #Dark Fic #dark marvel #dark!steve #dark!steve x you #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky fic #dark!bucky #dark!bucky x you #dark!bucky x y/n

234 notes · View notes

kaunis-sielu · 3 years

Text

Take the Money

He’d found it in the pile of shit that one of the lower level guys had brought in to try and cover his loan. A rose colored wallet that had seen better days, the zipper half zipped because it was broken. Steve pulls the driver’s license out of the wallet and studies the picture. You’re pretty. The address is one that’s in one of his neighborhoods, why doesn’t he know you? He’s pretty sure he owns the building you live in. When he opens the cash part of the wallet there’s two dollars inside. Not much of a cash score. So he plugs the debit card he finds into the reader, one of Nat’s more impressive little toys. When the account reads $300 Steve is sure he’s not reading it right. He pulls up your bank account, yea, it’s correct, one of his lower levels stole from someone who is well below the poverty line. And in his territory. Steve prides himself on being the kind of man who makes sure his territory is taken care of, it’s why none of them turn him in or cause problems. Yet another reason that he’s surprised he doesn’t know you.

“Buck, I’m goin for a drive.” Steve yells to Bucky as he pulls your card from the machine, he needs to see what your situation is. He also plans on giving back your wallet. He won’t take money from you, not tonight at least.

Steve climbs into his car then speeds his way to your address, it is a building he owns, Wanda is supposed to tell him when someone new moves in.

He pulls into the spot that’s held for him and heads into the apartment building then strait for Wanda’s door.

“Steve, what brings you here?” Wanda asks when she pulls open the door.

“Found something in the loot and I wanted to know what you know about it.”

“Okay?” She says pulling open her door and gesturing him inside. Wanda’s place is immaculate as always and he makes himself comfortable on the couch. “You want anything?”

“No thanks.” He says pulling the wallet from his coat pocket, he pulls the license out and hands it to Wanda, “what can you tell me about her?”

“Ah, Saint.”

“What?”

“That’s what everyone around here calls her. She’s a librarian or teacher or something. I don’t know she works in a school and literally is a saint. She’s always doing something for someone else, giving all she can to others. It’s like, she’s too good but it’s not an act.”

“She home?”

“Probably. Why?”

“I wanna return her wallet.” Wanda looks confused but Steve just stands and makes his way to the door. “Thanks Wanda.”

“Sure?” She says as he leaves the apartment. Steve takes the stairs two at a time to the third floor, finds your door and knocks on it three times.

“Coming!” He hears you call from inside the apartment, he takes a step back and tugs his jacket down. Your door pops open and you start talking before even looking up. “Hey Louis I have two bags...” you glance up and realize that Steve isn’t this Louis person you were expecting. “Oh, you’re not Louis. Sorry, can I help you?”

“I found this, I believe it belongs to you.” He says holding out your wallet.

“Oh, wow. Um wow, I didn’t even know it was missing. Thank you so much.” You tell him taking the wallet from his outstretched hand. You’re even prettier than your driver’s license photo had shown.

“Aren’t you going to check it?”

“Oh, um I wasn’t. No. I feel like if you’re going to take the time to return it you wouldn’t take anything from it.”

“That’s a good point.” Steve concedes, “but why don’t you check anyway.”

“Uh, okay?” You yank open the zipper and check the cash and for all your cards, “looks good to me.” You tell him, “thank you again.”

“Steve.” He offers, “Steve Rogers.”

“As in the guy who owns this building?” You ask and he nods, “thanks for bringing this back Mr. Rogers.”

“Please, call me Steve. How long have you lived in the building?”

“About a month.”

“I just try to make it a habit to know all of my tenants and I’d never met you.”

“Why do you make a habit to know all your tenants?”

“Because I want to make sure people are happy. Are you happy here?”

“Yea.”

“Do you feel safe?”

“Yes.”

“Would you tell me if you didn’t?” He asks and he sees you hesitate, “you can be honest with me doll.”

“I don’t know why you’d want me to bother you.”

“I ask everyone these questions.” As if on cue Maria walks out of her apartment and grins.

“Hey Steve.”

“Maria, doin’ alright?”

“Yea, thanks for the help with my car.” She tells him with a squeeze of his arm as she passes by. Steve steps closer to you and your apartment door as she does so and is given a glance into your apartment. Your very empty apartment, he sees an old couch that’s pretty much falling apart, nothing on the walls, a lamp on the far side of the room and a folding chair and table in the corner. Other than that there’s just what comes with the apartment.

“See, I help take care of my tenants, is there anything you need help with?”

“No, thank you though.” You tell him and Steve nods then gives you a smile. You’re not going to make this easy for him.

“Alright, just call me if that ever changes.” He says pulling a business card from inside his jacket and passes it to you. You take it hesitantly, running your fingers lightly over the edge. “Honestly, if you need anything okay?”

“Okay.”

Tag list:

@memyselfandmaddox @thefanficfaerie @patzammit @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @killcomet @thesassmisstress @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @scuzmunkie @giggleberts @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @valsworldofcreativity @strangersstranger

#steve rogers #captain america #imagine steve rogers #captain america x reader #imagine steve rogers x reader au #steve rogers x reader imagine #Steve Rogers x reader #mob boss!steve #mobster!steve rogers #mob boss Steve Rogers #mob boss!steve rogers x reader #mob boss!steve rogers #take the money story

150 notes · View notes

buck-buck-boose · 3 years

Text

I'll Love You 'Til I Die

Masterlist | Playlist

Summary: A Brooklyn schoolgirl fell in love with James Buchanan Barnes at the tender age of nine. With this love she made a vow, promising to love him until her very last breath.

Pairing: Bucky x OFC

Warnings: Language, violence

Word Count: 4.3k

Author's Note: I am... so sorry for taking so long. I was not expecting the start of the semester to be so hectic. I can't promise I'll go back to posting as regularly as during the summer, but I can promise that I'm not disappearing. I promise. I WILL SEE THIS FANFIC THROUGH EVEN IF IT KILLS ME. Thank you for the kind words and support while I've been MIA. Enjoy a chunky chapter.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Little Saint Lottie

October 27, 1943

“I’m worried about her, Betty.”

“I know, Gladys. I know.”

Lottie couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten a full night’s rest. Days seemed to bleed into each other, with no slumber to distinguish today from tomorrow. It wasn’t long after arriving at Azzano that she realized that he wasn’t waiting for her. Bucky was gone. In his place, dozens of men awaited her arrival with sunken eyes and twitching lips that begged for relief, whether it be through a healing touch or a final blow to the head.

When the realization hit Lottie, there wasn’t much she could do besides throwing herself into her work; if she couldn’t help Bucky, the least she could do was help his brothers in arms. Although anxiety ate her up from the inside out, Lottie had confidence in Bucky’s abilities. He wouldn’t let himself die in some POW camp, he just wouldn’t. Because then who would take care of her and Steve? He’d fight tooth and nail to get back to them, she just knew it.

She threw herself into her work, rarely stopping long enough to have a proper conversation or a full meal; this bad habit of hers came to a halt, though, when she came upon a boisterous redhead in need of stitches. Lottie had been deep in thought while examining the gash above his forehead when the soldier cracked a grin and peered up at her without moving his head too much.

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

Lottie shook her head, “I’m afraid not, Private—” she glanced at his dog tags, “—O’Connor.”

“Ever done pinup? Maybe I know you from one of those cheesecakes we’ve got hanging up.” The man— more of a boy really, with his lanky frame and jovial smile —wiggled his eyebrows and ruined her diligent work of cleaning the blood from his wound.

The question left Lottie flustered; the idea of dozens of men gawking at her scantily clad figure left her feeling mortified, “Certainly not! I find that my talents are better suited for healing.”

O’Connor nodded and inspected her face carefully as she went to work on his gash once more. “I’ve got it!” Lottie nearly jumped away from him when he clapped his hands together, “You’re Little Saint Lottie, in the flesh!” The boy crowed his revelation, earning him glares from the other men recovering in the medic tent.

Lottie nearly dropped the needle that she’d been preparing to thread, “Excuse me?”

“Ah, it’s a funny story,” O’Connor chuckled, “Y’see, Sarge had this little photo he’d take everywhere. Always had it in his pocket, tucked in his helmet, you name it. Wouldn’t let the damn thing go. Anyway, we stole it out of his fatigues one day while he was cleaning up in some river ‘cause we wanted to see what the big deal was. Once we saw it was some dame—” Lottie shot him a look, “—lady, we started yanking his chain about it. He was just about as obsessed with that photo as my Ma is with her holy cards, so when he finally told us your name, we dubbed you ‘Little Saint Lottie,’ patron saint of the one hundred and seventh. That kinda pissed him off, but it’s not like you’re his girl, y’know? Though he sure acted like you were.”

Lottie was speechless. About halfway through his story, her mouth had dropped open and her hands had fallen to her lap. Here she was, looking dumb as an ox, while the soldier in front of her chuckled with childish glee.

“Me and the guys would even ask for your intercession whenever the chaplain came by to pray with us. Poor guy had no clue which saint we were talkin’ about. We tried to give it a place of honor in the tent but Sarge made us run laps when he found out we’d nicked it again.”

O’Connor nearly doubled over in laughter as he watched Lottie’s expression grow in horror. “Well as I’m sure Bucky— Sergeant Barnes has told you, I’m no saint. I’m just a nurse. Now hold still, unless you want these stitches to be more painful than they already are.” Before she could stop herself, the question came tumbling out of her mouth, “Speaking of Sergeant Barnes, do you know—” she fumbled with the needle as she made the first stitch, “—is he alright? Did you see him?” The soldier let out a hiss of pain, “Yeah, I got a glimpse of him while they were takin’ him away. He was battered but alright. There’s no man quite like Sarge, I know he’ll be back. He’d fight tooth and nail to get back. That’s what he said at least, ‘cause he always went on and on about how you needed him and all that. He sure talked about you an awful lot for a guy who hasn’t even asked you to go steady.”

Lottie’s breath hitched at the final comment, the mere idea of going steady with Bucky reducing her to a stuttering schoolgirl. She began to tie off his stitches, “We’ve been best friends for over a decade, it’s perfectly normal to care for each other deeply without bringing affection into it.”

O’Connor shrugged, which jostled her arm slightly, “I’ve never heard a guy talk about his best friend like that.”

Lottie didn’t respond. She gave his fully sutured wound one last glance, “Looks like you’re all set. Now don’t do anything stupid to get it infected.”

He gave her a crooked grin and wiggled his eyebrows, Lottie nearly scolded him but held her tongue, “As you wish, Saint Lottie.”

Lottie rolled her eyes and moved along to the next bed, where another soldier waited with a smile just as wide. It seemed that these men had become pleased as punch to know their patroness had come to grace them with her presence.

The USO’s visit to their camp took Lottie completely by surprise. She’d spent so much time floating from one medic tent to the next that she’d ended up completely out of the loop of the camp’s other goings-on. It wasn’t until she saw the fully-erected stage in the middle of camp that she realized. Her heart beat powerfully within her; with Steve here, she would be one step closer to finding Bucky. One step closer to bringing him home. “They say he’s gonna be here in a few hours,” Mary beamed, obviously giddy to see the Star-Spangled Man up close and in the flesh.

Lottie returned her smile, though it was weak. The weariness was starting to catch up to her, making her feel much older than a youthful twenty-three. Her stomach was in knots with anxiety; she needed to get to Steve as soon as possible.

Betty stood with them as they watched the hustle and bustle of preparations, “I’m pretty sure we’re the only ones looking forward to seeing Captain America. All these boys care about is seeing a bunch of girls dancing for them on stage, not some hunk of meat in a red, white, and blue suit.”

Nancy, who had just joined the conversation, scoffed, “It’s quite disappointing how little you think of these men and their patriotism.”

Gladys rolled her eyes, “They’re still men, Nancy. Scantily clad women or a guy singing about war bonds? They’re gonna prefer the women.”

Several hours later, Gladys was indeed proven right. Although he’d been driven off-stage with jeers and taunts, Lottie was waiting for him with a warm embrace.

“Hey, Lottie,” She could hear the smile in his voice, she felt its warm timbre as it surrounded her and reminded her of home.

“Good to see ya, Stevie.”

Steve pulled away from her and gazed around the camp, a grimace growing on his features, “Things don’t look to good around here.”

Lottie nodded, a twin grimace gracing her lips, “The hundred and seventh started out with two hundred men. Now they’ve only got fifty left. They’re barely holding on.”

Steve’s gaze shot to hers the moment she mentioned the one hundred and seventh, “Lottie that’s— this is Bucky’s—” The desperate look in his eyes made her own calm exterior begin to crack.

“Stevie, I know,” she whispered, a lump forming in her throat and tears pricking at her eyes, “I know, and I’m sorry. He’s not here. They— Those bastards took him, damn them!” For the first time since arriving at camp, Lottie cried. She sobbed and clung to Steve once more, feeling every bit like a scared little girl from days gone by.

Steve rested his hand against her back, “I’ll get him out, Lottie. He’s gotta be alive and I’ll get him out.”

She shook her head and wiped the hot tears from her cheeks, “No, Steve. You’re not going alone. I’m coming with you.”

“Lottie, you know I can’t put you in harm’s way like that—”

“Steve. I’m serious. What do you think I was doing that whole time I was with the SSR? Yes, we were making the serum, but they nearly trained us to death. I can shoot, I can use my knife. I can’t let you go without me.” Her voice was starting to crack, “We have to find Bucky together.”

There was silence between the two of them until Steve finally conceded, a wary gaze in his eyes, “Fine. But you need to be by my side the whole time.” Lottie nodded her chest warming with hope. “C’mon, we need to have a conversation with Colonel Philipps.”

The two of them jogged to his tent with their coats held above their heads to shield them from a sudden shower of rain. They entered the colonel’s tent, looking comical with their wet hair and heaving chests. Around them, soldiers and officials paced to and fro, examining maps or signing off various forms. If Lottie squinted, she could just barely make out the words. Letters of condolences; heartbreakingly clinical letters of regret for the losses of these sons, these brothers, these boys.

“Colonel Phillips,” Steve began, “Are you planning a rescue mission? For the surviving prisoners from the Battle of Azzano?”

The colonel looked back at him with a straight face, “Yeah, it’s called winning the war.”

Steve’s blond eyebrows furrowed, “But if you know where they are why not at least—”

“They’re thirty miles behind the lines. Through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We’d lose more men than we’d save, but I don’t expect you to understand that because you’re a chorus girl,” before Lottie could protest, he shot her a glance as well, “and you’re just a nurse.”

Steve’s gaze on Colonel Phillips was cool, “I think I understand just fine.”

The colonel pushed past them, “Well then understand it somewhere else. Now if I read the posters correctly, you’ve got someplace to be in thirty minutes.”

“Yes sir, I do.”

Steve grabbed Lottie’s hand and pulled her behind him, “C’mon, we’ve gotta get going. You go get changed.”

Lottie nodded; her medical uniform would impede this mission so she’d need to wear the fatigues that the government had finally issued to them. Her heart raced a mile a minute as she scrambled back to the nurse’s tent to change. She knew that Colonel Philipps would be terribly angry once he found out she’d shirked her night duties, but her loyalties to Bucky took precedence. The recovering soldiers were left in the capable hands of her peers. She swore as she nearly toppled over while yanking her boots on; it was rather hard to get dressed in such a hurry. By the time she was ready and had exited the tent, she was met with the somber faces of Agent Carter and Steve.

“Agent Carter, what are you doing?” For a moment, she feared that they’d already been caught, that the SSR was already putting an end to their mission.

The other woman pursed her lips, “I’m here to help.”

A mere half-hour later and they found themselves in the SSR’s plane, headed to Krausberg, where the POW camp was located. Howard Stark called out to them from the cockpit, “We should be able to drop you right at their doorstep.”

Fear was starting to creep into Lottie’s mind and burrowed itself deep within her gut. She heard the conversation continue all around her, but she was still processing the daunting mission before her. She and Steve up against Hydra. All alone. Even Bucky had struggled against them; he’d lost to them in the Battle of Azzano. Bucky. That’s what worried her most. It’s what filled her with the most fear. If she and Steve got through the Hydra camp safe and sound only to find that he was dead, Lottie wasn’t sure how she’d deal with it. She’d probably go mad, in all honesty. She’d end up in some institution, crying over lucky pennies and charcoal drawings while being molly-coddled by some woman in white. How tragic that would be.

Before her thoughts could become any darker, Lottie was jolted back to reality by the sound of bullets against metal. Steve grabbed his shield and her arm, urging her to join him by the plane’s exit.

Agent Carter shot up from her seat, “Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!”

He turned to respond, “As soon as I’m clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!” “You can’t give me orders!”

A smile grew on his face, “The hell I can’t! I’m a captain!”

Steve shifted his goggles and nudged Lottie, “It’s go time. When you see me pull the chute out, you do the same.”

Lottie nodded with a quiet determination, and together, they jumped.

Entering the base was painstakingly quiet; once they’d snuck into a truck and eliminated the guards inside, Steve and Lottie were left to mouth words and offer silent support through unwavering gazes. Once they’d safely passed the gate of the base, they exited the truck and swiftly dealt with any opposition.

Steve led her across the base with caution, giving hand signals when it was safe to turn a corner and sprint across a patch of unobstructed space. The two of them traveled with the shadows, avoiding any spotlights that could catch them in the act. Lottie scarcely felt that she could breathe, it was as if one exhale would reveal their presence to the multitude of guards.

Once they entered the main building, the two of them found themselves in what seemed to be a factory. There were giant sheets of metal everywhere and huge bombs seemed to surround them. Amongst them all, Hydra soldiers transported other metal parts and containers of glowing blue material. That did not bode well with Lottie at all.

Lottie spotted some guards walking to a lower level, jangling keys in hand. “Steve, they might be guarding the prisoners.” Her whisper was barely audible, fear keeping her from speaking any louder.

“The blueprints said they were below the manufacturing level. C’mon.”

They followed the guards onto a walkway that had large circular grates that cut into the metal, each forming the ceiling of small cells that the poor prisoners had been separated into. Lottie and Steve knocked the guards out and stole their keys. The two dropped to the same level as the cells and began unlocking their doors.

One of the soldiers gazed at them through the bars of his cell, “Who are you supposed to be?”

Steve panted from stress, “I’m Captain America.” He gave Lottie an expectant look.

“I guess I’m Little Saint Lottie,” she responded somewhat sarcastically, referencing the retrospectively comical nickname that was developed by the one hundred and seventh.

Some of the men cracked grins, “So you’ve heard our prayers, huh?”

“Loud and clear. Now let’s get you out of here, yeah?”

She tried to ignore the growing horror inside of her upon the realization that none of these men had brilliant blue eyes. Not a dimpled chin in sight.

“Is there anybody else? I’m looking for a Sergeant James Barnes.” It seemed that the same horror was growing within Steve.

A man in a scarlet beret responded, his British accent prim and proper, “There’s an isolation ward in the factory, but no one’s ever come back from it.”

“Alright,” Steve nodded, “The tree line is northwest, 80 yards past the gate. Get out fast and give ‘em hell. We’ll meet you guys out in the clearing with anyone else we find.”

“Wait, you know what you’re doing?” “Yeah. I’ve knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times.”

Lottie couldn’t help but stare at Steve in amazement. Gone was that awkward boy from Brooklyn. He was a man now, a leader who could do anything he put his mind to. He’d grown so much, not just physically, but in his character.

While the prisoners worked their way out of the base, Steve and Lottie began their search for the isolation wards. Lottie tried to ignore the sounds of explosions and men crying out from below them while they traveled across metal catwalks. She could only hope that the cries of pain were coming from Hydra soldiers.

After turning several corners, they found themselves in an old hallway, surrounded by brick on both sides. They hurried down the corridor out of desperation; they knew they were running out of time. Lottie stopped suddenly when she heard a groan. It was close. She drew her weapon and dragged Steve into the room, her heart stuttering and her palms slick with sweat.

“Sergeant. Three-two-five-five-seven…” That voice. Oh, how she knew that voice; she loved it so. Lottie heard it whenever she found the time to fall asleep. It crept into her sweetest dreams but tore her apart whenever it wiggled its way into her nightmares.

Bucky lay in front of them, strapped down to a table; his lips moved ever so slightly as he repeated the same phrase over and over again.

She rushed to his side alongside Steve and nearly let out a cry of happiness. Had the situation not been so dire, she would’ve descended upon him with a bone-crushing embrace and great big sobs of joy by that point.

Lottie whispered a quiet, “Bucky?” His eyes were glazed over and his mouth agape, “Is that— is that—”

“It’s us, Buck,” Steve nodded reassuringly as he tore at the straps across Bucky’s chest. Bucky looked up at him, taking his face in,

“Us?”

“Me and Lottie,” he nodded, tugging her closer so that the two of them could be in Bucky’s field of vision.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at him, finally feeling whole again. She’d gotten her Brooklyn boys back. Bucky only looked back in confusion, “Little Lottie, she— she’s always been here. Always. Stayed with me the whole time.”

It was Lottie and Steve’s turn for confusion. Lottie brushed the hair back from his forehead to calm him down and ground him, “Bucky, I’ve been with the SSR this whole time. We’re here to rescue you.”

Steve nodded and dragged him off the table, “I thought you were dead.”

Bucky was obviously having a hard time processing everything that was happening, “I thought you were smaller.”

Lottie listened as the gunfire intensified, “Come on, we need to move.” Steve threw one of Bucky’s arms over his shoulder and the two fell into step behind her.

“What happened to you?” Bucky grunted out, pain etched into his voice.

“I joined the army.”

“Did it hurt?”

Steve was growing agitated, “A little.”

“Is it permanent?”

“So far.” Lottie huffed, “I’d sure hope so after all that effort I put into it.”

Bucky mustered out a befuddled, “Huh?”

“I helped to create the serum that made him like that.”

“So that’s why you left without saying a word.” Bucky’s tone was only slightly accusatory.

Lottie muttered a weak “Yeah.” They’d need to have a lengthier conversation once he wasn’t struggling to walk five yards.

As they crossed the catwalks to get towards the exit, the factory below them began to combust. Huge flames erupted from the metal contraptions and triggered explosions all around them. They hastily climbed the metal stairs to get to higher ground.

“Captain America, how exciting!” A thick German accent cut through the noise of explosions and gunfire. “I am a great fan of your films!” Before them stood two men; one was a short little fellow clad in a jacket and fedora. The other was tall and wore a distinguished Hydra uniform with its menacing crest emblazoned on his shoulder.

The taller of the two gave Captain America a once over as he strode across the catwalk that separated them, “So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement, but still, impressive.”

“You’ve got no idea,” Steve snarled and punched the man in the face. The swift blow caused a blotch of redness to appear near his eye and a sinking feeling of realization settled into Lottie’s stomach. This was Schmidt, the monster who used the serum prototype.

Before she could say anything, Schmidt struck back and left a dent in Steve’s shield, “Haven’t I?”

There was a brief scuffle before Schmidt backed off while the other man pulled a lever, pulling the catwalk apart. With a grin, Schmidt began pulling at the skin of his face and revealed fiery red muscle and tissue beneath, just as Lottie had seen when she first began experimenting with the formula. “You are deluded, Captain. You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality, you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind. Unlike you, I embrace it proudly. Without fear!”

“Then how come you’re running?”

Steve never got an answer. Schmidt and the other man had already boarded an elevator and left them standing on the catwalk, nearly helpless.

Another explosion went off, cueing the trio to leave, “C’mon, let’s go. Up.” Lottie instructed the men to follow her, though she wasn’t too sure how to escape the factory. All she knew was that they needed to keep ascending the stairs.

When they reached the top of the stairs, they were faced with a metal beam that led to a catwalk with an exit. It was terrifyingly slim, with only enough room to place one foot in front of the other.

“Ladies first,” Bucky murmured, “but I’ll be right behind you.” Lottie felt sure of herself knowing that at least she wouldn’t have to cross on her own.

She took a tentative first step, testing how well it would hold her weight. Lottie tried not to look down at the fiery pit below while she carefully moved along the beam. It was a comfort to have Bucky behind her with his chest nearly pressed against her back as he followed her every step. Lottie had just scrambled over the railing of the catwalk when a jarring explosion shifted the beam’s position and sent it careening downwards. She gasped in horror as Bucky leaped to grab onto the catwalk.

“There’s gotta be a rope or something!”

Steve stared at the two of them from across the pit, “Just go! Get out of here!”

Bucky slammed his fist on the railing, desperation tearing at his voice, “No, not without you!”

“Steve, please! We can’t just leave you here!” Lottie pleaded. Steve couldn’t die, not like this.

With a look of determination, Steve backed up and made a running jump to clear the gap between the two catwalks. An explosion threatened to swallow him up, but he made it over safely, although a little worse for wear.

Lottie and Bucky could only stare in amazement. Steve nodded to them both, “Let’s get outta here.”

Several ladders and a whole lot of dodging later, the trio found themselves trudging towards the tree line.

It was silent amongst the three of them; painfully, dreadfully silent. She decided it was time to break the silence, “Bucky, I—”

“Look, Little Lottie, I know you’re sorry, alright? And I forgive you. Even though you lied to my face and left without saying goodbye, I had a whole lotta time to spend forgiving you.”

Now that the fear of being caught by Hydra soldiers had fully subsided, Lottie allowed herself to let out a sob of joy and nearly threw herself at Bucky. She almost apologized for the force of her embrace since it was likely to hurt a man who’d been captured by Hydra, but he didn’t show any sign of pain. She’d need to remember that for later.

“I missed you so much, Bucky. I really did,” Lottie nearly whimpered. Gosh, she sure sounded lovesick. “I missed you too, Little Lottie.” His embrace was sure and strong, and with it, a flood of memories came back to her. Nights on her fire escape. A birthday evening spent swing dancing. A lucky penny slipped into her hand. For the first time in months, Lottie finally felt whole. Her heart that had been splintered into shards of pain and hopelessness had finally begun to mend itself back together. While she found comfort in his arms and forgiveness, she knew there were still so many words left unsaid; words that he needed and deserved to hear.

“Yeah, I missed you guys too,” Steve muttered, obviously peeved that he was being left out of their moment.

“Aw, come on, Stevie,” Lottie grinned and pulled away from Bucky a little to allow Steve to join their hug.

“And if I remember correctly, Bucky, I think it’s actually Little Saint Lottie now,” she grinned. While she couldn’t see his face at the moment, she just knew it was turning a gorgeous shade of scarlet, based on the sputtering coming out of his mouth.

30 notes · View notes

fixitforever · 3 years

Text

Old wounds and familiar faces (3)

A/N: here’s the next part. Let me know what you think!

Sam once again walks into the abandoned building to meet Y/N a few days later. This time she’s already waiting for him, leaning against a pilar with her arms crossed over her chest. Her shoulders are tense as they almost always are and she’s staring at him. “You know, you and Bucky should start a club.” He starts. “You can sit around together and stare at people.”

“Hmm.” Y/N hums as she pushes herself off the pilar she was leaning against and takes a step towards him. “Is that why you wanted to see me? To mock me?” She replies, her arms still crossed over her chest and her eyes still locked on his face.

“No.” Sam shakes his head, realising he won’t get anywhere with his jokes. At least not until she warms up to him. “I came here to tell you how the case went like you asked.” He tells her. “Thanks to you we caught the guy a day later. Probably the easiest catch we’ve had in a while.” He thinks back to the other day when he and Bucky went to the address on the card and caught the guy with the stuff he stole from the military. The man hadn’t expected them to figure out the card and was so surprised by them showing up that he didn’t even put up much of a fight.

“That’s good to hear.” Y/N says as she watches Sam’s face closely. She can tell that there’s more on his mind. “But that’s not the only reason you’re here, is it?” She asks and the look on Sam’s face tells her she’s right.

“Bucky acted strange after we met you and when I asked him about it he said that he might have known you when he was at Hydra.” Sam admits, he knows there’s no point in dragging this out. “I’ve asked him about it again later, but he won’t talk about it so I was wondering if you could tell me a bit more.”

Y/N sighs and finally looks away from Sam. “I don’t know Bucky.” She starts and in the corner of her eye she can see a somewhat disappointed look take over Sam’s face. “But I knew the Winter Soldier.” She adds and Sam looks intrigued again. “Our cells were next to each other.” There’s no need for him to know more than that, not now and maybe not ever.

Sam nods as he takes in the information. “Did Steve know?” He asks and he’s relieved to see Y/N nod. He had hoped Y/N told Steve about the time she spent with Bucky, or the Winter Soldier. Steve deserved to know what had happened to his friend during those years and Sam would have hated the thought that Y/N had that information and didn’t share it with Steve. “Do you think Bucky’s memories of that will come back?”

“They will, but it’ll take time.” Y/N sighs as looks at Sam again. “Bucky has decades of repressed memories that will slowly resurface. Right now his focus is probably on the missions Hydra sent him on. The more mundane things will probably take longer to come back to him.” She explains.

“Maybe you could talk to him sometime.” Sam suggests. It’s the first time that she has shared this much with him and he hopes he can keep the momentum going. “Might be good for both of you.” He adds and he sees hesitation in her eyes for a moment before she pulls her wall back up.

“Like I said, Sam, I have a therapist for conversations like that.” Y/N tells him before she turns around and walks away. “If you need me, you know how to reach me.” She calls back to him before she disappears from view. Sam considers it a win, considering the fact that she has never openly offered her help before.

*****

“So I went to see Y/N to tell her how the case went.” Sam watches Bucky closely for a reaction. They’re at the army base waiting for information on their new case. “After what you said about maybe knowing her when you were at Hydra I figured I’d ask her about it.” He goes on when he doesn’t get a response and he sees Bucky tense up now.

“Yeah?” Bucky asks as he tries to act nonchalant. He’s been having dreams about Y/N almost every night since they met and it seems like the Red Star and the Winter Soldier were very close, so close that Hydra decided to separate them at some point but his memories surrounding that are still vague so he’s not sure what exactly caused their separation. “What did she say?”

Sam shrugs. “Not much.” He admits. “Apparently she knew the Winter Soldier because your cell was next to hers.” He says, his eyes still trained on Bucky who nods slowly. “She thinks your memories about that will come back in time.” Bucky nods once again as he takes in Sam’s words. “Look, she didn’t tell me anything other than that but she said she told Steve about knowing you and I’m guessing she told him more than she told me.”

Bucky leans back in his chair. If Y/N told Steve about their time at Hydra that explains why Steve was so convinced that the real Bucky was still somewhere inside the Winter Soldier. Bucky only remembers snippets of his time with Y/N, but what he remembers is mostly good. He shared his food with her, because for some reason they gave her a lot less than him, and he recalls giving her his blanket because she didn’t have one and the serum running through his veins kept him from getting too cold anyway. Y/N must have told Steve about the good things the Winter Soldier did for her, or for the Red Star, and it must have made Steve even more determined to find Bucky.

A part of Bucky wants to open up to Sam about the memories he has been regaining, but a larger part tells him to keep his mouth shut. It’s the same part that tells him he doesn’t deserve anything good and that he needs to take case after case and risk his life to make up for the crimes he has committed. It’s the part that tells him he’s a bad person, and the voice gets a little more quiet every time someone thanks him for something good he has done but it’s still there in the back of his mind. And it’s still bigger than the part of him that says it wasn’t his fault and that he deserves a fresh start.

“Gentlemen, the colonel will see you now.” A voice breaks Bucky out of his thoughts and when he looks up he finds Sam giving him a concerned look, but he ignores it and stands up. Sam frowns but he knows that now isn’t the time to press Bucky about what’s going on in his mind, so he stands up as well and follows Bucky into the colonel’s office.

Taglist: @valhalla-kristin @vicmc624 @sltwins @ginger-swag-rapunzel

#marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes x female reader

23 notes · View notes

stressisakiller · 3 years

Text

Forgive Me Sunflower

Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU

(Hello Sunflower Part 10) EDITED

Summary: What happens when Bucky wakes up to your bed empty and a strange note on your pillow

Warnings: refences to torture. Murder. cussing

Word Count: 4 k

A/N: Can you figure out what her secret message was? Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for future chapters! Thank yall for reading!’

Thoughts are in italics

Series Masterlist

<< Previous Next >>

Life in the tower fell into a peaceful rhythm. Waking up before the sun, heading down to the training rooms. Beating the shit out of Bucky, occasionally you let him win, then breakfast with everyone. Steve and Bucky always made sure to go for a run together, while they were out you went upstairs and sat in the lab with Tony. You may not have had a normal childhood but you “father” hadn’t let your education suffer, we believed that knowledge was everything. So, you were able to help out occasionally with the problems that arose.

While he worked Tony enjoyed telling you stories, about himself and your parents. You quickly felt as though you got the chance to know them. As much as you loved these stories it broke your heart that you were the reason they were no longer here.

Tony was finishing one such story when he noticed the dejected look on your face, he quickly switched to telling you about how he became Iron Man. He explained the cave and the fear he felt while stuck there, although he would never admit that to anyone else. He told you of the man who helped him and saved his life, of his sacrifice and the change it caused in Tony’s life. He told you about being betrayed by the man he had trusted the most, you could relate to that.

Life was good, really good. You felt safe with the people around you, you felt loved and trusted. You felt like you had a family. But of course nothing lasts forever.

You lived in peace for two months. Two months of happiness and tranquility, or as much tranquility as a group of superheroes are able to have. The tranquility was shattered one morning about a week before the avengers were to go to trial.

Waking up that morning Bucky got ready as always, he headed down to the training rooms and was surprised to see that you had yet to arrive. Weird, you always arrived before him. He went back to the elevator and headed to your room, some nights you liked to sleep in a space that was your own. Opening the door his eyes fell on your empty bed, it was still made, as if you never made it to bed last night. Worried he hurried over to your bathroom and knocked,

“Hey sunflower, you in there?” the silence that answered him was overwhelming, you weren’t here.

Where on earth could you be? Upon closer inspection of your room his eyes fell upon a note laid purposefully on your pillow. He carefully made his way over, watching closely for any trip wires. Lifting the card from your pillow he cut open the top with one of the knives on his belt. His eyes scanned the note, he felt the breath leave his lungs, was this some kind of sick joke? He took a deep breath trying to calm himself down before rereading the paper in his hand.

Bucky,

Hello, I'm sorry that I must tell you this in a letter, sunflower. But the time has come I must leave before the sun is up. I can't follow your dreams for us anymore. I have my own and they don't involve you right now. We are done my sunflower. Don't try to find me

Your star,

Ps forgive me

There was something off about the way the note was written. It was worded strangely, it didn’t sound like you at all. Not to mention the fact that you would never leave your soulmate like this. He thought back to the night before, you had been just as cuddly as normal, you had fallen asleep on him during the movie that you were all watching. He had gently woken you and walked with you to your room, you had given him a quick kiss and a smile before walking through the door. Bucky shook his head, bringing himself back to the problem at hand. He examined the wording carefully, looking for anything that would explain where you were. There it was, oh you clever, beautiful woman. Of course that would be your message, there is only one explanation as to where you are. Fuck. His face paled as the meaning of your message sunk in. You had been forced to write this message and yet you had found a way to tell him who it was. Hydra.

Your day was going well, you had a great time training this morning, you had pinned Bucky no less than three times. Tony had been in a good mood while you sat with him, his newest project was going smoothly and he was excited to see it in action. The best part had been the movie night that the group decided to have. You fell asleep on Bucky, how could you not, he is just so warm. He had taken you back to your room and you had kissed him at the door before parting ways. That is when it all went to shit. A hand closed over your mouth and a gun pressed to your temple. Your brain was still fuzzy with sleep, putting you at a disadvantage, it was quickly clearing but not quite as quickly as you needed. As the fog began to clear you began debating the best way to incapacitate the guy who currently had his hand on your mouth. So focused on the man behind you, you almost didn’t notice when a shadow moved in the corner in front of you. Almost, the moment that the movement registered in your tired brain you froze.

“Please don’t try to escape, we need you to come with us.” The disembodied voice was eerily familiar although you couldn’t figure out why.

You struggled against the iron grip of the man behind you, at the prompting of the man in the corner, he slowly lowered his hand from your mouth allowing you to speak.

“And why the hell do you think I would do that?” you spat at him.

“Simple,” his calm demeanor was starting to give you the creeps, how could he be so calm right now? “If you don’t we will kill every single person in this building and maybe their families too while we are at it.” your eyebrows rose at his statement,

“Just the two of you?” disbelief evident in your voice.

He laughed, a humorous thing, it sent chills down your back.

“Of course not, stupid girl, there are more of us in this building right now. If you cooperate then they won’t need to be used, they will leave as soon as we do.”

How could you trust him to keep his word? But if you didn’t go with him then there was no way for you to protect everyone. You head swam, you knew he wouldn’t wait long for your answer.

“Fine, but you have to swear that you and your men will leave everyone else in this building alone.”

“You have my word, he only wants you right now anyway.”

“He?” your curiosity got the best of you

“Hydra, of course, now I need you to write a letter, one that explains your absence. One that explains that you don’t want anyone looking for you.” His voice was firm, and you knew that you had no choice.

You nodded your agreement, and the man behind you loosened his grip, but the gun stayed trained on you. You walked to your desk and brought out a pen and some paper, taking a second to figure out how to let Bucky know that you were in danger. The solution popped in your mind and you jotted down your note, hoping that he would understand. As soon as you were done they tied your hands together and pulled you to their escape route. With surprising speed and ease they got you out of the building and thrust you into a car. You fought against your bonds until a needle was shoved in your neck, blackness filled your vision and your eyelids felt like lead, the last thing you heard was a man barking directions before sleep took you.

Cold. All you can feel is overwhelming cold. Whatever you were laying on felt like ice. Fighting against the weight of your eyelids struggling against the darkness that held you. Voices, you could hear voices in the background. Trying to focus on their words but unable to understand what they meant. Wake up, you thought. Wake up! WAKE UP! Forcing your eyes open you flinched as a blinding light forced you to snap them shut. Breathe. Slowly opening your eyes, you take in your surroundings, it looks familiar. Fuck. You were back, they had you again, and you walked right into their arms. Tears welled up in your eyes causing your vision to waver. No, you would not cry, you refuse to cry. They don’t get to see you break. A voice brought you out of your thoughts, eyes shooting to the door. No, no no no no. Not him, anyone but him. But his voice was unmistakable, your heart dropped, your father. No you remind yourself, not your father, just an asshole that stole you from your family and forced you to become a monster. You would not let them break you. The door swung open and the face that has been haunting your nightmares since you escaped walked into view, a cold and calculating smile on his lips.

“Well, well. It is so good to have you back, my daughter. I so missed having you here.” fake sincerity that made your toes curl laced his voice. The gag in your mouth kept you from spitting on him, all you could do was glare. You felt so helpless. He always made you feel so fucking helpless.

“Now now, sweet girl, no need for anger, you must have forgotten that all I have ever wanted is the best for you. You lost yourself these past two years, but don’t worry we will soon remedy that.” He stepped towards you, a rope in his hand, you looked up at him, eyes widening in fear and anger, this was going to hurt.

Bucky ran into the common room, eyes scanning the room widely, gone was the cool calm and collected Bucky. This Bucky had just lost his soulmate to the very people that you had finally been able to escape. He will do anything to get her back. His eyes fell on Tony pouring himself some coffee into a mug you had recently bought for him. Bucky stalked over to him, trying to keep his overwhelming fear from showing on his face. Tony looked up at him as he walked closer, giving him a smirk,

“Hey there grizzly bear, someone steal your honey and piss in your cheerios?” His smile fell as he studied the soldier, Tony had never seen him like this, something terrible had happened.

“What is it? What happened?” Going from playful to serious in a split second. His eyes scanned the room and noticed the lack of his sister, “Where is Y/N?”

Bucky couldn’t seem to answer, he just held out the note. Quickly reading it Tony ended up even more confused,

“there has to be a mistake, she would never leave like this.” desperation coloring his tone and he looked back at Bucky. Bucky shook his head,

“She didn’t, she was forced to write it. She left a hidden message, she was taken by Hydra.”

“Fuck!” Tony had to stop himself from throwing his mug across the room, it was a gift from you and he would hate himself if anything happened to it.

“Ok what can we do, we need to find her.” He started to ramble about all of the things he could do and how they could get to her before Bucky held up a hand to quiet him.

“I think I know where she is. There is a Hydra base in upstate New York, they don’t know that I know about it. I was supposed to be under their control when they took me there but I was slipping, more of myself than the soldier at the time.” He spoke quickly, he wanted to get to her as soon as possible. Tony nodded and called for Jarvis to gather everyone in the mission room. They filed in confused as to what was going on, Steve was the last one to sit down.

“Y/N has been taken by Hydra and we are going to get her back.” Bucky was clear and concise as he explained the plan to them. If everything went according to plan they should have her back in the next two days.

Time meant nothing to you. You couldn’t tell how long you had been back in the clutches of the asshole you used to call father. Has it been a day? A week? A month? All you knew was pain. Your thoughts felt fragmented. Like dandelion fluff in the wind. Bucky would come. Keep Bucky safe. All that matters is keeping him safe. Don’t let them see you break. Your head lolled to the side when you heard the door open. He was back, couldn’t he just leave you alone? Freezing water was thrown over your battered body, you bit your tongue to keep from gasping. Cuts stinging from onslaught, the deeper gashes on your tattoos making the water run red.

“Hello, sweetheart, I think you’re ready to be our soldier again.” His eyes were filled with glee at the prospect of being back in control of you, he had so many ideas of what he would have you do, who he would have you kill. He paused, letting the news sink in before continuing.

“There is no way you can hold out this time.” Your eyes slid from his face, too tired to focus, too tired to fight. The scientist minions unstrapped your limp body from the table that had been your home since you arrived. They dragged you, feet scraping against the floor, to the machine that you had hoped to never see again, the blender. They threw you into the chair and strapped you down, removing the gag and shoving a rubber piece into your mouth. You wanted to fight but you couldn’t feel your arms. They placed the helmet on your head and turned the machine on.

Bucky, forced himself to calm down, they would have you back soon. It had taken them a day to confirm your location and get ready to leave. Now he sat impatiently in the quinjet with the rest of the Avengers, wondering what awaited him at the base. Praying that you were ok, that he wasn’t too late. A voice came over the intercom letting them know they were 5 minutes out. He stood keeping his hands busy with getting ready, pushing aside his worry and doubt. You needed him and he wasn’t going to let his fear get in the way of saving you.

The plane touched down and the soldier was on the move. Ruthless and concise the soldier cut through the guards and anyone who got in his way. The only person that matters to him is his soulmate, the one he is here to save. He made his way through the base quickly, his steps never faltering as he moved towards the room that he knew they would have you in. The room that was the scene of every one of his nightmares. He busted through the door and stepped into the room, the one with the blender, the one where they brainwashed him.

For the first time during the mission his steps faltered, the soldier was devastated by what he saw. You, alive yes, but battered and bruised, face pale and blood running from multiple cuts. A dark purple bruise obvious around your throat. Your face was full of bruises and cuts, your arms were the same. You were staring straight forward, eyes void and he knew he had failed you. He moved to step towards you but your fathers voice caused him to stop.

“Soldier, are you ready to comply?” Bucky wanted to punch the grin off of his face but all he could do was watch.

“Ready to comply.” your voice was ice, lacking any of its usual warmth and emotion.

“Kill the winter Soldier, I have no more need for him.” You snapped to attention, turning to your enemy, deciding the best way to attack. You charged. Bucky brought his arm up in time to block your attack, moving quickly to protect himself without hurting you. You quickly flipped him on his back, standing over him, he looked at you with defeat, he couldn’t hurt you, not this time. A twinkle came to your eyes that hadn’t been there a moment before, and you did the last thing he was expecting, you winked. Bucky moved quickly rolling out of your grasp, keeping up the ruse and noticed that your blows were softer than they would be in a normal fight, you were still there. You yanked his pistol out of his holster and pointed it at him, finger on the trigger.

“Well,” came your father's voice, impatience coloring his tone,

“what are you waiting for? Shoot him.” Bucky saw your trigger finger twitch before you moved, a shot ringing out in the otherwise quiet space.

Blinking Bucky turned to see the body of your father fall to the ground, bullet lodged between his eyes. Shaking off the sense of deja vu he looked back towards you. Although your actions showed that you were still at least sort of in control of your body, he could tell that the soldier was at the controller. He took a cautious step towards you. You spun, and pointed the gun at him, a glimmer of recognition in your eyes before you slowly lowered the gun. Bucky reached for the gun keeping his movements slow as he released your hold on it. Gently grasping your chin, he turned you to look at him.

“Hello, my star,” His voice was soft, “It’s your sunflower, it’s time for you to come back to me.” Your eyes seemed to focus for a moment before you spoke,

“I have to finish my mission.” your voice was firm

“What is your mission, my star?” he asked, keeping your eyes trained on him.

“To keep my soulmate safe, that has always been my mission.” you looked confused at his question as if the answer should have been obvious. He smiled, cupping your cheek in his hand.

“I am safe, my star, your sunflower is safe. Your mission is complete, you can let go.” At his words, your eyes rolled back and you collapsed. His arms wrapping around you before you could hit the floor. Bucky picked you up and began to carry you out of the godforsaken base.

You wake for a moment as he carries you towards the exit, seeing his face, you were able to relax for the first time in days.

“Bucky?”

“Hush, little one, I have you now, we are heading home.”

The next time you woke up you were in the tower hospital, feeling weak but better than you had when you passed out. Your eyes were drawn towards the hand that currently engulfed yours, it was connected to the sleeping form of your handsome soulmate. Reaching across yourself with your free hand you ran your fingers through his hair. The soft feeling, waking him up from his sleep. Raising his head Bucky looked at you. Tears forming in his eyes as he noticed you were awake.

“Hi,” your voice was rough from screaming. His eyes softened, his metal hand coming up to rest on your cheek.

“Hi yourself, little one, you scared the shit out of me.” you chuckled at him

“Wasn’t my intention love, they got me to go with them because they threatened you. I promised that I would take care of you. I didn’t mean to cause you pain.”

“No, sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize, I am just happy that you are back with me and that you are safe.” he rested his forehead against yours as he spoke, as if he could force the words into your head. You cleared your throat, a question at the forefront of your mind.

“What day is it? Did I miss the trials? Knowing them they took me when they did to keep me from testifying, they wanted me to forfeit my right to be heard.” you anxiously awaited his answer, worried that you had ruined everything.

“No, little one, we still have a couple of days before the trials start. You were gone a total of two days, and out of consciousness another. You will still be able to make it to the trial. I have a feeling that your injuries might just swing the jury in your favor.” His lip turned up, but there was pain in his eyes, he drew his hand from yours and gently rested it on your hip where the cuts were the deepest, they had cut you to figure out which tattoo was your soulmark.

“Well I’m glad something good came out of this.” sarcasm evident in your tone as you tried to make light of the situation.

“Well that and the death of the asshole that took you from your parents.” Bucky didn’t try to hind the venom in his voice as he spat out the words. Your eyes widened,

“Wait what? He’s dead?” Bucky looked confused at your question before understanding washed over him.

“Little one, he turned you into the soldier and told you to kill me. You pulled your punches and when you stole my gun he ordered you to shoot me, but you shot him instead.”

You could tell that he was a little worried about how you would react. As much as you hated the man you had still believed him to be your father for the majority of your life.

“Good, the bastard deserved it.” you looked away from Bucky’s face as you spoke, shame prickling behind your eyes because of the sadness you felt.

“I do have a question though, how were you able to fight his control? Why didn’t you shoot me?” You looked at him surprised by his question.

“They haven’t truly had control over me since I got my tattoo.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought back to it. “When they tried to activate the soldier after the mark showed up I was able to talk to her. We agreed that you were as much her soulmate as you are mine and that we would both do whatever it takes to protect you. You became our mission.” you took a deep breath before continuing, pulling your eyes from Bucky’s face.

“The soldier and I are one, as much as I hate a lot of the things she did, she had as little of a choice as I did. She takes control when they activate her, but I am no longer trapped in the backseat. I’m able to talk to her, and most of the time, she listens.”

Bucky looked down at his hands in confusion, wondering if he would ever be able to say the same about himself and the winter soldier. Could they ever work together? He let the thought go as he watched you yawn.

Picking you up, he took you back to his room, you were well enough to sleep in a real bed tonight. Heaven knows you needed it. He laid you down and pulled you close, smiling at the feeling of you nuzzling into his side. Those questions could wait till later, for now, he would enjoy sleeping next to his soulmate again.

Tagged users: @calwitch @writerwrites

#winter solider fanfiction #winter solider x reader #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #hello sunflower

31 notes · View notes

not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Sugar, Sugar (Three)

We meet the rest of the gang and Tony makes a move on Stucky.

MASTERLIST HERE

*****************

“Hey gal pals!” Clint slammed the door to Natasha’s apartment and made a beeline for the kitchen. “Have the Wonder Twins came by with the daily cupcakes? I’m starving and too poor to buy real foo...”

He let the sentence trail when he came around the corner and saw Steve and Bucky at the kitchen table and also Sam for some reason. “Oh uh--- hey a bunch of random men who doesn’t live here.”

“You don’t live here either. And did you call us the Wonder Twins?” Bucky dragged the box of cupcakes away from the center of the table and closer to himself. “Because Stevie and I don’t look nothin’ alike. Definitely not twins.”

“No no no.” Sam undid the wrapper on his third cupcake of the morning and took a big bite, spraying around crumbs as he finished, “We need to talk about why Clint apparently refers to Nat and Val as his gal pals.”

“If I would’a known you were here I would’a called out for my man pals too.” Clint defended, and made grabby hands at the bakery box. “Don’t hog the goods, Bucky-baby. Share the love.”

“The hell I will.” Bucky covered the box with a protective arm. “We only brought a dozen and fuckin’ Sam got to most of them. None for you. We’re keeping the rest.”

“No you aren’t.” Valkyrie finally made it out of her room. “You boys gonna bring that crap here, you’re gonna share. Give it up, Bronco and give it up now.”

Bucky sent the woman his fiercest scowl, then shouted, “OW!” when his fiercest scowl only earned him a smack upside the head. “Damn you, Val!”

“Fuckin’ feed me, then.” Valkyrie patted at Steve’s shoulder, ran her hands through Clint’s hair and crooned, “Good morning, gorgeous.” then hip checked Sam right out of the way so she could get to the coffee. “What’s the flavor of the day?”

“Coffee Caramel Macchiato.” Steve finally stopped stuffing his face long enough to speak. “Tony says it’s like coffee in a cupcake. Mornin’ Val. Clint. How’s it going?”

“It’ll be better when you give me one of those.” the boys never knew whether it was impressive or scary that Valkyrie could put back sixteen ounces of straight black coffee without pausing for a breath, but either way the feat distracted Bucky enough that Val managed to snag two cupcakes from the box before he noticed.

“Here, love.” she passed one to Clint, then hollered, “Tasha! Cupcakes! And coffee!”

“I want coffee.” Natasha managed to be drop dead gorgeous even fresh out of bed, red hair perfectly tousled, full lips pouty, crop top and flannel pajama bottoms absolutely adorable and every head in the kitchen turned to watch her progress across the living room. “Stare a little harder Sam, I’m sure you won’t burn holes in my skin with all that laser like focus.”

“Yeah I’m uh-- I’m not even sorry.” Sam shrugged unrepentantly. “Five years you’ve known me Tash. You don’t want me drooling on your kitchen floor, maybe put some clothes on before you come out of the bedroom.”

“It’s my house, I’ll wear whatever the fuck I want.” Natasha snatched a towel off the counter and tucked it into Sam’s shirt, patting at his chest teasingly. “There. Drool away.”

“Good morning, beauty.” Valkyrie pursed her lips for a kiss and Natasha promptly gave her one, then leaned over and gave Clint one as well. “Sleep okay?”

“How do you not know how she slept? You two still aren’t sharing a bedroom?” Bucky tipped his head back and grinned when the tiny redhead passed behind them, and Steve added, “Haven’t you two been dating for a year now?”

“I feel like that’s none’ya’bizness.” Valkyrie snorted. “Give me another cupcake.”

“Oooh, more from our favorite sexy baker?” Nat crowded in between Clint and Valkyrie and snagged one from the box. “Speaking of people who are obviously in love but not doing anything about it--”

Valkyrie smacked her in the ass and Natasha laughed over her shoulder at her. “-- what is this now? Three weeks you’ve been maxing out your credit cards buying cupcakes from Sweet Peach? And you still haven’t managed a date with the guy?”

“Tony doesn’t date couples.” Bucky licked his fingers, then leaned over and kissed the frosting right off Steve’s lips. “He won’t even go out for drinks. The only way we see him is to visit the shop and Captain Do Gooder over here says we can’t just go to the shop and ogle Tony, we actually have to buy something.”

“Yeah, cos shockingly enough, it’s creepy to show up every day and stare at him, Buck.” Steve pushed his boyfriend away when Bucky tried to steal a bite of his cupcake. “Tony tells us we don’t have to get cupcakes and he’s always real happy to see us, always lets us hang out while he’s working after hours but it still doesn’t seem right to take up space and not buy anything.”

“So let me get this straight.” Sam took Valkyrie’s second cup of coffee and grimaced over a too large swallow. “Tony won’t date-- oh ho-ho-holy crap woman, how do you drink this sludge?”

“Sack up or shut up.” Val countered and took her cup back. “Wuss.”

“Anyway.” Sam blinked back some coffee induced tears. “Anyway. Tony won’t date couples, but you two still drag your happy asses down there every damn day to flirt and buy cupcakes even though you have no chance of getting anywhere with him? That just sounds... terrible. It sounds terrible.”

“You don’t know the whole story.” Steve gulped at his coffee, then passed it over to Bucky.

“Okay.” Clint intercepted the mug and stole a drink too. “What’s the whole story?”

“We love him.” Bucky snatched the cup and glared around the kitchen. “How is there six people in this kitchen and only three coffee cups in circulation? Me and Stevie share cos we are adorable. The rest of you get your own damn cups.”

“When you start doing dishes, you can complain about the cups.” Natasha informed him. “And what do you mean, you love him? You don’t love him.”

“No, we definitely love him.”

“You definitely don’t.” Sam snagged Natasha around the waist and dragged her up against his body, pinching her side when she giggled and shook her butt into him. “Settle down, Red. And you two Wonder Twins definitely don’t love Tony.”

“I’m glad the Wonder Twin thing is catching on.” Clint got his arm around Valkyrie and smooshed a kiss to her lips, then hopped up on the counter and pulled the pretty girl between his legs, dropping his chin into her curly hair. “Seriously though. You don’t love Tony.”

“You don’t know the whole story.” Steve said again, and this time Bucky finished, “You also haven’t seen his ass, so you know. You have no idea what th’fuck you’re talkin’ about.”

“So what?” Sam shrugged. “He’s perfect? He’s funny? He’s the cream filling in your steroid jacked sandwich? What?”

“All those things.” Bucky checked his phone and jumped up to get his coat. “Except the steroid jacked sandwich thing, you know damn well these muscles are one hundred percent real.”

“Steve.” Natasha raised her voice to be heard over the chorus of jeers and disbelief when Bucky flexed dramatically. “Steve, seriously. Do you want me to look into this guy Tony for you?”

“She means, do you want her to do that scary Soviet Spy thing where she uncovers everyone’s secrets and uses them to bring down nations.” Valkyrie clarified, smirking over at her sort of girlfriend. “Anything sketchy we should know about your baker?”

“There’s nothing sketchy about Tony.” Bucky denied, at the same time Steve protested, “Tash! Do not do your scary Soviet spy thing! You’ll scare him away!”

“First of all, I’m Russian.” Natasha corrected. “And second of all, I work in data entry, not espionage.”

“Data entry.” Sam scoffed. “Cos we believe that. No way you work a regular nine to five, Tasha. Five years we’ve been friends and I’ve never seen you in office appropriate business wear ever. Data entry, my ass.”

“Anyway.” Steve cleared his throat loudly. “Anyway, Tasha. No. You don’t need to look into Tony, why would you even think that?”

“Cos somehow he’s got both you goons googly eyed and stupid over him and you can’t even tell me his full name.” she challenged. “Cos he is dead set against dating couples but lets you hang around anyway. Because if I didn’t half believe you dummies about being in love with him already, I’d worry he was gold digging or something else along those lines. I should look into him. He seems suspicious.”

“The last time you looked into someone, they disappeared with out a trace, Tash.” Clint spoke up from halfway through his second cupcake. “Remember that? What was her name, that foxy chick that shanked Sam and stole half his money?”

“NOBODY SHANKED ME!” Sam bellowed and Valkyrie cackled with glee. “We got a little feisty in bed and one of her long ass nails jabbed me in the side!”

“She did steal half your money though, right?” Bucky waggled his eyebrows. “Right? Put one hand down your pants and the other into your wallet and about emptied your bank account?”

“I have a giving spirit.” Sam groused. “I thought we were talking about Steve and Bucky falling in love with crazy people, not me!”

“Alright alright alright.” Clint clapped his hands a few times. “We are talking about Steve and Bucky falling in love, not Sam and his shockingly terrible taste in partners.”

“We’re not talking about it at all actually, cos I’m about to be late for work.” Steve handed the last cupcake to Natasha and blew Valkyrie a kiss. “Buck? Let’s go.”

“Coming, sweetums.” Sam called in a high falsetto, oophing over a quick jab in the ribs courtesy of Natasha. “This conversation isn’t over! We want to meet this Sweet Peach baker!”

“Hell, we don’t need their permission.” Valkyrie shrugged. “Let’s just mosey down to the bakery and meet Tony oursel--”

“Nope.” Steve stuck his head back around the corner and pointed at them. “None of you are meeting Tony until Bucky and I have a chance to explain about you all.”

“What’s there to explain?” Clint wondered, and Bucky yelled from the front door, “We gotta explain why we’re friends with a bunch’a assholes!”

They ran away down the elevator to a background of boo’s and vaguely worded threats, and Bucky was still laughing when he pushed Steve into the elevator then crowded up against the blond and lay a searing kiss on his lips.

“Hey hey hey.” Steve huffed a laugh, brushed his knuckles over Bucky’s cheek and slowed the kiss down to something a little easier. “What was that for?”

“Oh, because Nat and Val make me horny.” Bucky said over a grimace. “Which is... so weird.. but I’ve given up fighting it. I think it’s cos Nat is fuckin’ scary and Val isn’t scary but looks like she could seriously fuck you up.”

“So... the potential for violence makes you horny?”

“You’re one to talk Stevie, you got a boner watching football last night.”

“It was an impressive touchdown!” Steve turned positively scarlet. “A hail mary play and a run down the field and--”

“There’s nothing impressive about football, baby doll.” Bucky hushed him with another kiss. “But it sure is cute how you get all sparkly eyed and shit. Let’s get to work.”

“Fine.” Steve grumbled a little on the elevator down, but once they were out on the sidewalk again he asked, “Are we bein’ dumb about Tony?”

“Fuckin’ stupid.” Bucky confirmed immediately. “I’m half outta my mind over the guy because of the way his booty wiggles. You almost broke your neck watching him pull cupcakes out the other day. He sings that stupid ‘yummy yummy I’ve got love in my tummy song’ and you made the sorta noise you only make when I get up inside you. And every time he holds that frosting bag I think it’s connected to my damn dick. We are fuckin’ stupid, Stevie.”

“Okay, I wasn’t actually talking about all of those things.” Steve was blushing again and Bucky grinned at him. “I mean, are we bein’ dumb cos he doesn’t want anything to do with a couple beyond just hanging out and being friends, and we keep coming around sorta obviously hoping for more.”

“Oh thank god, we’re only bein’ sorta obvious.”

“I’m being serious.” Steve grabbed at Bucky’s hand and yanked him to a stop. “Three weeks, Buck. We’ve seen him every day for three weeks--”

“Not every day, we didn’t actually see him yesterday, remember? Or last Friday.”

“--pretty much every day for three weeks. We laugh and we talk and it’s a hell of a good time but do you think we’re wasting our time?”

“Alright.” Bucky pulled a hair tie from his pocket and looped his hair up and out of his eyes. “Alright Stevie, you know what I think? I think it’s pretty damn obvious Tony’s nursing a hell of a broken heart, definitely got burned falling in love with a couple before. I think he’s being real cautious and tryna take things slow but I also think that the other night when you told him how cute he was he about blushed his adorable ass right through the floor and Sunday he looked so damn relieved when we walked through the door, I know he was waiting for us.”

“You think he likes us.”

“I think he’s a totally smitten kitten.” Bucky confirmed. “Which works out pretty well cos we’re fuckin’ lost for him, right? Right?”

“Right.”

“And I know I haven’t stopped talkin’ about his ass, but we like him, right? Care about him a little bit, at least. I missed him like hell last night, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” this time it was Steve that initiated a less-than-publicly- appropriate kiss. “Yes. Care about him sorta a weird amount seein as how we’ve only known him a month and yes, missed seeing him last night.”

“So what’s the problem?” Bucky pointed out. “We’re fuckin’ stupid over him but that don’t mean we’re being dumb about him, right?”

“Right.” Steve finally smiled again. “Thank you.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m the whole package.” Bucky kissed him back and growled playfully. “I’ve got plenty of brawn and a surprising amount of brains too. Who’d’a thunk it?”

“Wow, that was a bad sentence.” Steve shook his head and started back down the street. “Who’d’a thunk it. Jesus, Buck.”

***************

Sweet Peach Bakery had been closed for an hour and a half by the time Steve and Bucky finished at the gym and made it down the street, so Bucky banged on the door while Steve called the bakery number to let Tony know they were outside.

“Well well well, if it isn’t my favorite hot bodies!” Tony’s cheeks were flushed, his smile stretched a little too wide when he made it to the door, and Bucky raised his eyebrows when he saw Tony’s more than half full glass of wine. “You didn’t come by last night, I thought maybe I finally scared you away!”

“Not a chance.” Steve set his bag down and motioned to the cup. “Start the party without us?”

“Oh come on, we all know it’s not a party until the hot people arrive.” Tony winked and nudged Bucky gently. “What’s with the murder scowl, Buck? You bummed cos you don’t have any wine yet?”

“Not scowlin’ sugar.” Bucky was quick to smile, even quicker to reach out and tug at Tony’s apron strings. “Just wonderin’ what happened today that you broke into the wine ahead of schedule?”

“Not ahead of schedule.” Tony tipped his head back and emptied the glass, then sashayed his way back behind the counter to get more. “I think I’m late breaking into it actually. You two weren’t here to help with it last night so I had to drink your share too.”

“Well we’re here now.” Steve followed Tony around the counter and grabbed two more glasses, passing one to Bucky. “Fill us up and tell us about your day.”

“My day.” Tony’s laugh sounded strained. “Oh man, my day? I pissed off a bride and lost a huge wedding job, that’s how my day went.”

“Oh damn.” Bucky uncorked the wine and refilled Tony’s glass most of the way full, then poured a little for he and Steve as well. “I thought you were like the bride whisperer, Tony. What the hell happened?”

“Vegan bride.” Tony made a kissy face at Bucky before taking a swig from the fresh glass. “Which is fine you know? It’s fine. I can work with that. Hey you know what would relax me? Come here and sit in my office, tell me which of the overly expensive chairs I bought feels better on Steve’s ridiculous butt.”

“Really?” Steve challenged. “Gonna use the words ‘ridiculous’ and ‘butt’ in the same sentence and make it about me?”

“Have you seen your ass?” Tony tossed over his shoulder, and motioned them through the kitchen. “I could bounce a quarter off that thing, Blondie.”

“Can confirm.” Bucky gave the aforementioned ass a quick swat. “Why’d you get new couches though?”

“Rhodey threw out my other ones.” Tony unlocked the door to his office and turned on the lights. “I dunno why though, couches I got at a garage sale in the late eighties are still usable, right? They went through all the college dorm parties and every single one of my apartments and at one point I gave them away but then found them again at a different garage sale-

“Wait, what?”

“--so I got them back!”

“Tony. Are you serious?”

“And college orgies aren’t all that wild, we all used condoms so total minimal body fluids--”

“OH MY GOD!”

“FROM THE LATE EIGHTIES!?”

“I mean, I lost my virginity on the big one so--”

“TONY WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“-- it was sentimental! Rhodey had no right to throw it out!”

“I feel like Rhodey should’a called so we could give him a hand.” Steve decided. “God, Tony. Couches aren’t meant to survive thirty years of college sex and garage sales, they are meant to give us a few years of comfiness and then die dignified deaths on the street corner.”

“There’s nothing dignified about street corners.” Tony disagreed. “And it’s so much harder than you’d think to find neon floral print couches these days? Rhodey made me get boring blue ones.”

“Sorry, was that neon floral print?” Bucky picked up a photo from Tony’s desk and squinted at it in disbelief. “Holy shit, that is a neon floral print couch.”

“Where?” Steve peered over Bucky’s shoulder, gaping at the picture. “Wow. Tony has your hair always been that fluffy? How the hell do you control that mess? Bucky, did you see this?”

“Cupcake, your hair is like eight inches off your forehead.” Bucky whistled as if impressed. “What is that, Flock of the Seagulls, huh?”

“You aren’t that tall, either.” Steve cocked his head curiously. “Tony are you-- are you wearing lifts in your shoes?

“High heels were in for men back then!” Tony snatched the picture back and set it face down on the desk. “And I use lots of hair gel okay?! And by the way? There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that couch. It was a conversation starter!”

“Yeah, I feel like I’d have something to say if I walked into a room and that monstrosity was taking up the main wall.” Bucky agreed. “I’d have something to say if I walked into a room and saw you hair fluffed like that too--ow!”

He wheezed when Tony jabbed at his stomach. “My chubbiness!”

“Chubbiness?” Tony rubbed at his finger as if it hurt. “That was like poking a brick wall, what chubbiness? Fuck, I think you broke my finger.”

“Well maybe stop poking and start groping, less chance for broken fingers.” Steve darted around Tony and got the picture again. “My word, is this Colonel Rhodes wearing suspenders and pants up to his nipples? Does he know this picture exists?”

“I’m gonna hang it in the bakery as revenge for him taking my couches!” Tony grabbed for the frame and Steve just held it up higher, grinning over Tony’s outraged squawk. “This picture is like the gift that keeps on giving, Tony. Are you wearing glitter lip gloss right here?”

“Let me see?” Bucky didn’t even have to stretch to take the picture from Steve, holding it over Tony’s head and flattening one big hand into Tony’s chest to keep him away. “Ho-ho-holy shit, that’s glitter lip gloss and definitely some eyeliner.”

“THE EARLY NINETIES WERE A DIFFICULT TIME FOR ME!” Tony screeched. “FASHION WAS FLUID!”

“Fashion was terrible.” Steve finally took pity on Tony’s futile jumping and set the photo back on the desk. “Buck, you’re not allowed to make fun of me wearing polo’s and khakis in high school anymore. Not now that we know Tony wore eyeliner and lip gloss.”

“I didn’t agree to that.” Bucky said easily. “I’ll make fun of your old man khaki’s till the day I die. Tony, we need to have a serious conversation about your clothing choices.”

“Oh for fucks--” Tony threw up his hands in disbelief. “I don’t see you taking issue with my leggings and aprons and croppy tops!”

“We need to have a serious conversation about your past clothing choices.” Bucky amended. “I’m all about that sweet peach in those leggings.”

“And definitely never stop wearing croppy tops.” Steve interjected. “Oh but weren’t you telling us about a vegan bride?”

“Yeah, did she get mad cos your booty is cuter than her boo--”

Bucky shut up when Tony suddenly leaned in and kissed him-- or rather, leaned up and kissed him. Tony had to stand on his toes and grab both hands in Bucky’s shirt and yank the big brunette down to get their lips together, and it might have been determination on Tony’s part or maybe Bucky being too stunned to resist, but damn it was a hell of a kiss anyway.

“--booty.” Bucky finished lamely when Tony let him go. “I um-- booty. I got uh-- holy crap. I got nothing. Stevie?”

“Too busy to talk, Buck.” Steve took two big steps forward and whirled Tony around, gathering him right up into his chest and bending him over into a long kiss. One hand in Tony’s curls, the other low low over the rise of that irresistible peach, and Tony made an eep! sort of noise when Steve groaned against his tongue.

“That was uh--” the words barely worked, so Tony cleared his throat once or a dozen times and tried again. “--that was just as good as I assumed it would be. Grade a kissers, you two. Good work, team. I wondered if those mouths were good for anything other than flirting and terrible jokes.”

“Uh-huh.” Bucky was still licking the taste of Tony of his lips, pale eyes glowing. “You wanna see what else this mouth is good for?”

Steve cursed like he was choking, palming at his cock through his jeans and hissing out a half desperate, “Bucky! Just a little bit subtle, yeah?”

“Says the guy jerking off through his zipper.” Bucky retorted without taking his eyes off Tony. “So what’s up, sweet thing? Wanna ride my face?”

“BUCKY!”

Tony bit at his lip, ducked his head and peeked up from beneath ridiculously thick lashes, his fingers playing at the strip of skin between the top of his leggings and the bottom of his crop top.

“So um, my vegan bride.” He smothered a giggle when Steve did another one of those mangled curses. “She wanted whip cream frosting and her husband asked what vegan whip cream was and I said air and um--”

Belly button rings had no business being so distracting, but Bucky and Steve almost fell over all the same when Tony’s shirt lifted another inch to show off the brand new cup cake charm.

“--and um, the husband laughed at my joke but the bride apparently doesn’t think veganism is funny in the least or maybe future hubby had made too many jokes already but she flipped out and cancelled the whole thing.”

Tony sucked in a quick breath when Steve jerked forward like he wanted to touch him again. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure I ruined the wedding by making a joke about vegan whipped cream and it was a big job to lose so you know. That’s why I was drinking early.”

“And the kiss?” Bucky held out his hand and crooked his fingers coaxingly. “What was that about?”

“I told you.” Tony lifted one shoulder in a half hearted, teasing shrug. “I wanted to know if your mouth was good for anything other than flirting. Steve? You gonna try out that couch or what?”

“Yeah, I think I should probably sit down.” Steve sat alright, sat and grabbed a throw pillow and placed it over his crotch, thoroughly loving how Bucky’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the all too obvious pillow, and how Tony’s eyes sparked hot and interested at the motion. “Buck. Come sit down. This is definitely the most comfortable couch in the world.”

Tony laughed under his breath when Bucky sat immediately, sprawling back onto the cushions and spreading his legs wide in what could only be an open invitation.

“You two are gorgeous.” Tony said after a long moment of perusal. “And I was right, you sitting on my couches did relax me. Also, I’m apologizing for kissing you without permission but I’d like it to be noted that I am not actually sorry in the least.”

“Noted.”

“I’d also like it to be noted that uh--” Tony drew his finger over a distractingly full bottom lip and nearly purred in pleasure when both men’s mouths fell open in response. “--that while I have every intention of riding the hell outta Bronco’s face--”

“Fuck me, I’m gonna embarrass myself in my pants in like two seconds.” Bucky muttered.

“--and while I would be very much into getting everything beneath that pillow down my throat--”

Steve threw his head back and grit his teeth until his jaw hurt. “Christ, Tony.”

“-- and even though I’m pretty sure I missed the hell outta you two last night and that’s not something I’m willing to think too much about right now?” Tony paused for effect. “I’m still not going to date you. I don’t want a relationship. No way. These last three weeks have been super fun, I’ve had a great time getting to know you both but I’m ready to move past drinking wine together and towards the part where I smear frosting over your dicks and lick it off.”

He waited another beat and finished, “We all have to be on the same page, okay? More importantly, you two need to be on the same page cos I’m not about to ruin a relationship just to get my hands on what I imagine is a combined sixteen inches of grade A beef. Alright? Everyone good with that?”

It took Steve a full three minutes to manage a sentence-- “I wish I could laugh, because that was pretty amazing sass but I’m not actually thinking with anything above my waist. Buck? Got anything?”

“Literally nothing.” Bucky didn’t bother trying. “Nope. Not right now.”

“Okay, well.” Tony straightened his little apron and cleared his throat, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling and preening with satisfaction at having rendered both Steve and Bucky absolutely stupid. “When you two figure it out, why don’t you let me know? I have cake pops to make. Stay as long as you want, but if you’re still here in half an hour I’m gonna make you mop.”

“Uhhhh sure?”

***************

A half hour later, Tony was busy portioning out batter for tomorrow mornings streusel muffins and Bucky was busy washing dishes. Steve was mopping the customer area, slow jazz was playing over the speakers and Tony’s heart was almost pounding out of his chest while he waited for one of them to bring up the conversation from the office.

He hadn’t been lying-- he was more than ready to give Bucky a test drive and definitely was ready to deal with polo’s and khakis if it meant watching Steve come apart via blow job but there was no way-- there was no way Tony wanted a relationship.

Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice....

“We need to have a conversation.” Steve told Bucky as he rolled the mop bucket past the sink. “Tonight.”

“You need to blow me.” Bucky retorted. “Or at least bend over and let me at that ass. I’m not talking about nothin’ while my dick is trying to climb outta my pants, alright? Not happening.”

“That’s fair.” Steve grinned a little bit. “But still. At some point we need to have a conversation.”

“Yep.”

“About Tony.”

“Yeah, no shit, Stevie.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Bucky spun around and kissed Steve square on the lips, holding him close. “I love you, baby. So so much.”

“Hey! Anyone want to come lick my spoon?!” Tony called, and Steve squealed in shock when Bucky chomped down into his lip.

“Bucky! Damn it!”

“Sorry sorry sorry.” Bucky groaned. “I was trying to be sexy but then Tony mentioned spoons and--”

“Okay we need to get you home.”

“Yes we fucking do!”

Tony barely looked up when Bucky and Steve grabbed their jackets, but he froze in place when they each left a gentle kiss on his cheek. “What’s up, guys?”

“We’ll see you tomorrow, alright honey?” Steve swept his fingers down Tony’s back to rest at the bow of his apron. “We’ll be here right at closing.”

“Talk to you real soon, sweet thing.”

“Ooookay.” Tony waved them out the door nonchalantly, easy smiles and casual sips of his wine until they were out of sight down the sidewalk.

Then he grabbed his phone and made a phone call.

“Heya Tones.”

“Heya platypus!” Tony said cheerfully. “Guess who’s gonna get fuckin’ railed tomorrow night?”

There was nothing but horrified silence on Rhodey’s end, then a scream of laughter that could only be Pepper, and when Tony listened a little closer, he could hear general restaurant sounds in the background as well.

“Oh uh--” he coughed. “Out for dinner with Pepper, huh?”

More screams of laughter, and then one of those famous world ending, longest suffering sighs that only Rhodey could pull off.

“I’ll just-- just let you go, hm?”

“Goddammit, Tony.”

*******************

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

*******************

@thanossucks @atomicfandombomb @thebuckybrigade @fanfic-up-to-my-tits @starknakedsluts @basiad @everything-is-applepie @kimstark @tulipsnbigcats

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @lookuplaughing @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @water-colouredmemories @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @ad1thi @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii

#ncts fics #stuckony #stucky #tony stark #steve rogers #bucky barnes

177 notes · View notes

fanfic-scribbles · 3 years

Text

one missing body: my own

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Bucky finds his arm in England, his feet in Thailand, his tongue in Romania, and his heart in Brooklyn. OR Bucky does “Eat, Pray, Love” his own way.

Quick facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/James “Bucky” Barnes – [No Reader-Insert at all]

Warnings: Slight dissociation at points (sort of?), body issues, kind of angsty, hopeful ending

Words: 2698

A/N: This is a relatively short thing for how long it took me to write. Oh well. It’s one of those things where I had to realize it wasn’t going to be as good as it was in my head, but it still turned out better than my resignation allowed for. I’m glad I got it out and I like re-reading it, and that’s enough for me. And because I constantly forget to do this: this is MCU set after CA:TWS and ignores everything past that. (Except for one thing I partially stole from CA:CW. Partially.)

He rattles as he pulls i- no, the train rattles. Or maybe it’s the station. He is unsteady on his feet but it feels familiar. Loud sounds crash in his ears while the ground falls– pulses– underfoot– no footing–

“-ate; are you all right?”

He blinks. The station is quiet again. Nothing shakes, and he unclenches his fist. One of the rowdy drunks from the other end stands in front of him, only sober enough to squint in concern, face still flush and breath coming out in heavy sour waves. He– Bucky, he doesn’t want to admit it but he likes it– could kill the man in an instant. It would take maybe half a minute to take care of the other three, a minute for the station agent and businessman, and then maybe two more to get all the cameras.

He has a memory that blurs into another, two men, fifty years apart in time, each handing him a gun and telling him to do what needs to be done. Or maybe he is the gun being handed over. He is made of metal, after all. Bolt. Chamber. Sights. Muzzle. And trigger. That’s all that matters. All that–

“I’m fine,” he says, voice low. It doesn’t sound like his, doesn’t sound like it comes out of him, but he feels it in the back of his head and the base of his throat. “Thank you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, all right,” the man says, hesitating. He looks around and then…holds out a small card. Nonverbal command words don’t work on him, not anymore. And the embossed letters and pen-scratched numbers are unfamiliar. Bucky stares at it and the man leans in and whispers too loud. “I don’t know how long you’re here for but he helped my mate and he wouldn’t care where you’re from. All the same hell, right?”

“Right,” Bucky lies, because he has lived through many hells and all of them have been very different. But he takes the card (left hand, gloved, unnoticeable and unmemorable and he moves it but is it really his?) and puts it in his pocket. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” the man says and goes back to his friends.

Bucky looks down and stares at his hand for a moment. His fingers flex, independent of his own thoughts, and the ground seems to move under him.

He looks around for somewhere to sit but the closest bench has the businessman on it. It will have to do. He strides over, forcing his movements to be slow and light (heavy, purposeful, meant to terrify and stop but not now, not now). The station agent gives him a friendly smile and watches him until he sits. The business man scoots aside but nods in respect and goes back to reading his paper with tired, unfocused eyes. The businessman is not afraid. None of them are afraid.

He puts his hands in his lap, stares down at his gloved fingers and flexes them. Both sets move the same, in response to his commands. They curl, and flex, and even ripple up and down, one after the other.

He is the light bulb that flickers nearby, here but not fully, conspicuous but ignored; in and out and off and on. The weight of weapons sit like ghosts in his palms. Experimentally he mimes a finger on the trigger in his left hand, and holds an invisible knife in his right. But he stays the imaginary execution on both counts and allows his hands to fall open, fingers slack. Inactive.

How does a light bulb hold a gun, anyway?

He is in Thailand now, stuck in a resort area near tourists up too late and waiting for the small hours of the morning when he can slip away unnoticed. The sand is cool under his bare foot and because his other boot isn’t broken it makes him feel even lighter on that side. Uneven.

He frowns and shucks the other shoe, tossing it on top of his bloodied, ripped jacket. It’s a shame– he liked that jacket. And the shoes. The cold sand is interesting though; it rolls over his feet like tiny little beach balls. Beach balls? Beach balls. The term is familiar but it holds no meaning for him. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have to.

Grains of sand shift and slide everywhere as he moves his feet under and through. Earlier in the day there had been a child who had jammed his small, flat feet in the sand and proclaimed himself “stuck,” theatrically pulling at his legs until his friends ran over and mimed pulling him out.

But the granules slide over skin, sticking to nothing. He is not stuck. His feet are rooted to nothing, held by nothing. One lifts, his toes curl, and he slams it down, making tiny brown beach balls scatter. And then he lifts it again.

He can set it wherever he wants.

For now, he stretches his leg out, leans back against his arms, and waits.

Sound is generally unpleasant. Everything is loud and the focus he once had that allowed him to pick out piecemeal conversations seems to be gone right now, or else scattered amongst his shattered mind like everything else he’s supposed to be.

Lahore is not much different from other cities when it comes to sound, but he’s found some respite in a park. The noise spreads out and the talking is so distant he doesn’t feel compelled to follow the threads. It’s all nothingness in the background; birds and people and cars somewhere beyond.

Laughter– loud, nearby– makes him flinch so hard the seat of the bench begins to give in his grip. It’s a man and he’s still laughing, so loud that it’s all Bucky can hear, except that it isn’t; there’s a laugh in his head that sounds just like it and that is all he hears, that laugh, the faintest pressure of a thin arm wrapped around him as they stumble out onto the still-wet street together and quickly uncouple but stay close, so close…

He blinks and loses the image of scattered cars, the faint whiff of fresh rain and road, and stares out at grass and a young father running after three children with a baby in his arms, all of them shrieking and laughing as he continues to laugh and chase after them.

Bucky is shaking, nauseated by the jolt of past to present and the hole in between, but he shuts his eyes and loosens his grip on the wooden seat and listens to the family’s laughter until it becomes something else. Something new.

After that, the noisy road becomes a background thrum and the birds don’t seem so bad. And even when they are, he can find that special laugh in the back of his mind and he pulls on that bell even though it makes him want to shake because they have taken so much from him but somehow they didn’t take that, and things are starting, starting, to make sense.

“Are you going to buy?”

The man’s tone is rough, suspicious, and makes Bucky shrink back. It reminds him of orders in a variety of voices, an assortment of languages, but the derision always, always–

He leaves the store, allows his feet, legs, to carry him away. He always tries to supervise his body closely, especially when it does this. He watches for unconscious memory, ready to intervene in case it takes him down a familiar trail. Thankfully there is no prescribed path, no recognizable tread; only wandering through people while the noise they make buzzes around him and fills the air with static.

He finds himself in marketplace that is unfamiliar on the surface but familiar in a way that lets him breathe. He skulks through the crowd, hunched, “preoccupied,” hiding in a way he can deny. He knows how to do this, knows how…to…

He doesn’t know why he stops, but he stares at the fruit on display. There are people here but the crowd is less, and the two women behind the stall are busy with other customers. Maybe friends, by the way they converse, but he doesn’t care.

He stares at nothing and pretends to be seriously considering some oranges. He licks his lips and thinks of…snow. Before he can pull away from that thought, he realizes it isn’t the same. Small limp flakes falling from the sky into scattered piles of dirty white sludge. Small candles in a cold room curled up under blankets with one other body, almost as cold as the air, trying to provide heat.

“Steve,” the name comes, murmured, lips tongue and teeth conspiring and committing the name into thin air. It closes his throat and opens his chest and he breathes, watches it all waft away in the cold.

When the young woman eventually comes over to check on him he says “please” and “how much” and “thank you” with a voice that feels shaky and new and old and smooth and wrong and right and his.

He sees it in sepia, in his mind’s eye, and sees it in much less color in front of him. It’s an old block building in a surprisingly quiet Russian neighborhood, drab and lifeless for all the color it has taken from him. Bucky sucks in a breath, spits out a curse and hits seven buzzers in quick succession.

The door unlocks. Bucky doesn’t yet move to go in. He looks around, eyes skimming past cracked paint, past the paved lot with scattered dead vegetation, past the street in disrepair and buildings and empty spaces that go on and on into the night poorly lit with barely functioning streetlights. He searches past them, staring into the distance, looking for somewhere far away from here.

He rests his left hand on the handle, hesitates, then slams the door open so hard it embeds itself into the wall behind it. He strides into darkness too deep to see anything, and he is grateful for it as images flash in front of him regardless of the time of day, or year, or decade. In darkness there was screaming, enclosure, pain. In darkness there were brushed lips, whispers that felt warm against his ear, a small body he did his best to warm and be warmed by.

Secrets, all of it, but he knows what he prefers as he knocks open a blocked passage and descends a narrow set of stairs into his own personal hell.

He finds his fingernails when his hand grips a wall during a tight turn and they grind uncomfortably against the stone; his eyelashes when snow falls and tries (and fails) to settle there; his sense of humor when a guard sees the bloodied bodies of his colleagues beside the still-breathing body of the man who put them there and throws himself off the side of the building.

(He finds a sense of shame at that. Just a little one.)

He finds his smile in China when a young woman catches his pen before it hits the floor and hands it back to him; his sense of smell when his nose crinkles in a smoke-filled building in Japan; the stinging annoyance of a paper cut in New Jersey.

He loses his breath while sitting on a bench in a familiar-unfamiliar-unknown park in New York. He finds a way to stumble forward on legs that do not want to move on a tree-lined street in Brooklyn. He re-discovers fear on a stoop at 0214.

Some days Steve Rogers feels like Iron Man– not Tony Stark, the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist, but like the suit that said man puts on when the heavy lifting needs done. It’s those times he forgets himself, forgets that he isn’t what he was and there’s no going back to it. It shows uncomfortably well in how many alarm clocks he’s had to buy. His friends think he’s really grumpy when he first wakes up. He doesn’t correct them– it’s less embarrassing than to admit that he doesn’t know how to gently push a button when the alarm is dragging him out of another nightmare. That he still expects to struggle to get his massive comforter off of him. That he’s watched inhaler commercials with great interest because maybe he should– except, no, he shouldn’t, because he doesn’t have to, won’t ever have to, not anymore.

It’s not all bad. Before this body he used to think he could catch a fist, only to have his own bony knuckles slammed back into his face, but just last week he caught a grenade and threw it so high in the air it didn’t hurt anyone. A pencil moves through his fingers now as easily as it did in 1939. His face is still recognizable enough; so recognizable that Bucky could know it just as much as he did then, his own face twisting into panic and fear and–

Steve throws his arm over his eyes and lets it rest, heavy, while he breathes in and out and in and out. His brain is still too loud. That’s something he wouldn’t have minded changing. He puts his hand down at his side and sighs, wondering if it would be better if he was just the brainless muscle a surprising amount people think he is. The way they sneer isn’t so different, talking about how they can see where the Hulk came from when they think he can’t hear them, different at least in their secrecy from the bullies who looked down at his breathless body and joked about how Davenport had the right of it–

Something isn’t right. Steve blinks and sits up, stilling himself and listening carefully. The window is shut but Steve can hear the single scuff of a shoe against pavement right outside and then…nothing. The curtain is open just a slit, allowing a thin line of streetlight and Steve creeps along the floor, the single eye that can fit that field of vision flitting around, scouting wherever he can, until he decides he’s clear enough and leans up so he can look down at the street.

Steve freezes. There’s a man in front of his building, fidgeting but otherwise doing nothing but staring at the door with his hands buried in deep pockets, no hat to hide that dark hair, and no sense of shame or impropriety when he lifts his head and steely eyes pierce right into Steve’s soul.

Steve hesitates, not wanting to leave his window for fear of losing sight of him– if he could figure how to leap out in a way that wouldn’t potentially scare Bucky he would deal with every noise complaint thrown at him. But Bucky is here, Bucky can see him, Bucky is…still there. Steve mouths ‘wait’ in a vain hope but Bucky nods and that’s all he needs to scramble to his feet and run out of the room, down the stairs, almost breaking the banister when he uses it to swing a turn to the front of the house and he’s still moving even as he rips the door open and skids to a stop right in front of…

“You stayed,” he breathes.

“You asked,” the other man says, his voice rough. He winces and shrugs one shoulder. “Sort of.”

“Are you…”

“I don’t know.”

Steve frowns. “You don’t know what I was going to ask.”

Bucky snorts. “I got two guesses. And either way…” Bucky opens his arms as if presenting himself. Steve stares at his face, doesn’t look away at anything, not at Bucky’s chest, pockets, belt, not even at the left arm as it falls to his side.

“Do you want to…come in?” Steve asks, unable to keep the twinge of hope out of his voice.

Bucky hesitates for a moment, stares at the ground under his shoe for several seconds, and then takes a step forward.

Steve finds deep sleep for the first time in a long time. Bucky finds dreams in a large bed with a firm mattress. They both find peace and comfort as they each curl around a body that is not their own.

#bucky x steve #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic

9 notes · View notes

cagestark · 5 years

Note

Hi! Im not sure if you are taking prompts, but if not pls just ignore this (I LOVE YOUR STUFF ANYWAY UR GREAT ❤️❤️❤️) What about a PrisonInmate!Tony, PrisonInmate!Steve and PrisonInmate!Bucky all trying to get their hands on freshly employed Officer!Peter who was just trying to do his job. Smut? Shenanigans? Lots of good/bad/cheesy flirting? Anything would make me so happy!!!

Hope this works for what you wanted. I had a lot of fun, feel free to hop in my inbox and let me know if you’re satisfied. I tried working Steve in but :( still not very good at writing him. Bucky is a stretch for me, too. Did what I could though! Especially considering I scrapped what I had, wrote this in 10 hours, and didn’t even glance it over skskskks sorry for errors.

Warnings: some violence, smut, drugs. 7.5k. Peter is 22!

Read here on AO3!

The first time Tony meets Officer Parker, Tony is shackled at the waist and ankles to eleven other inmates from Lincoln Correctional Facility. He reaches up with bound wrists to scrub at his facial hair hoping that he isn’t as scruffy as he feels, eyeing the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed little twink who would be driving them twenty minutes to a nearby park There they would be giving restitution to society by picking up plastic soda bottles, cigarette butts, and used condoms from under the dugout benches at the baseball diamond. Thinking of the millions of dollars he stole from his father’s company (plenty of which was still offshore and safe), Tony figures that a week of this and his debt will be repaid. He and society can call it even.

“He’s green,” Bucky mutters from beside him. He tracks the younger man’s pale eyes to Officer Twink. “No question about it.”

“Hey Fury,” Tony says when the black officer goes by, doing a head count. He motions with his bound hands to Parker. “I didn’t know it was bring-your-white-child-to-work-day. Are his legs long enough to reach the pedals in the van? Does he have his permit? Where did you leave his Hot Wheels battery-powered jeep? Will we all fit in the back, because—”

“Pushing your luck,” mutters Steve from Tony’s other side, goody-fucking-two-shoes that he is.

Fury stops walking, actually doubles back to stand in front of him. “You want me to drag you out of line, Stark? You can spend the rest of your day inside washing dishes. Or in solitary, if you feel like being an asshole like usual. Don’t fucking test me,” Fury says. He’s a real hard-ass. Tony likes him well enough.

Beyond them, Officer Parker is blushing to beat the band having heard Tony’s criticism of him. “I’m twenty-two,” he mutters, and Tony nearly groans. Beside him, Bucky does groan. This kid is so, so fucking green. What kind of dummy correctional officer just spills personal information in front of convicted felons?

The harder inmates are going to eat him alive.

If Tony doesn’t eat him first.

“Twenty-two huh? When’s your birthday, sweetheart?” Tony calls. “I’ll drop a postcard in the mail for you—"

He hears the slide of chrome on leather as Fury draws his baton. Tony has just enough time to be thankful it’s not his taser before it is jabbing him in the chest. With his feet and wrists shackled, he has no real way to keep himself upright. He ends up sprawled ass first in the dirt. Steve and Bucky have to adjust to avoid falling themselves and likely taking the whole line down with them.

“Did you just threaten Officer Parker, Stark?” Fury asks, bending over him.

Tony squints up against the sun. “If my heartfelt affection is threatening, then—”

“One more word and you’re spending the week on D Block.” D Block is solitary confinement, and if there is anything more painful to Tony, he doesn’t know what it is. Being alone with his thoughts, no one there to fill the silence, walls so thick he can’t even hear the shouts from other inmates around him—it’s enough to drive him to the edge. He folds.

“Parker,” Fury barks. “Give me your keys. Stark isn’t coming on the field trip.”

“How else am I going to repay society?” Tony asks, holding up his wrists so Fury can unchain him out of the line. Fury doesn’t dignify him with an answer, and it’s probably for the best. Words tend to pour out of Tony’s mouth without thought even at the best of times. And he really isn’t looking for spending the first week of Officer Parker’s employment up on D Block getting his trays through the slot in the door.

While Fury undoes the locks with practiced ease, Parker stands back practically wringing his hands. He looks distraught, downright upset to be honest. When he catches Tony looking, the kid turns red and looks away. God. Fucking adorable.

Tony glances up at Bucky who is looking straight ahead with the smuggest fucking smirk. He winks at Parker and the kid literally has to turn away, probably before he has a stroke, because Bucky is a good-looking guy. And he’s going to spend the entire week, eight hours a day picking up trash while being supervised by Officer Twink.

“You lucky bastard,” Tony says to him.

“Bucky’s probably got him bent on all fours in one of the dugout’s right now,” Tony mutters unhappily around an unlit cigarette. They aren’t supposed to smoke inside—it’s against the rules, actually, not just frowned upon—but in times of anxiety, he likes the familiarity of it between his lips. He picks up his dealt cards from the table and glances at them: a straight. Not bad.

“Should have kept your mouth shut,” Toomes says from across the table. His joy at Tony’s dismay is poorly disguised behind his own hand. “That’d be you, right now. Picking up trash in Manhattan. The highlight of your day getting your dick sucked in a dugout littered with caramel corn and old wads of chewing gum. God, how the mighty fall.”

“Could be you right now, too,” Tony offers genially. “But those domestic violence charges mean you don’t even get the chance to go on field trips, huh?”

“Not to mention,” Rhodes says from beside him, a dark-skinned man with a generally unhappy face, and serious disposition. He was one of the only people on the block that Tony genuinely trusted—that sort of trust was hard earned. They’d even exchanged addresses so they could communicate after one or the other gets processed out. “No guard would risk their job for a suck job with you, Toomes.”

“Brutal,” Tony says, holding out his hand to shake Rhodes’s. “True, but absolutely brutal.”

“Thanks,” Rhodey says dryly. “Is someone going to call, or what?”

Toomes ends up storming off, leaving his hand flat on the table. When Tony flips it over, he only had one pair. Unfortunate bastard.

“He’s going to give you problems, Tony,” Rhodey says. His dark eyes are still tracking Toomes who is sulking across the floor back to his cell, where he stands in the doorway, scanning the room. “He’s not showing you respect, and he’s not meshing well with the block. It’s going to come to a head soon.”

“Is this foreshadowing?” Tony asks lazily.

Rhodey just stares.

Tony is dozing in his cell when a large form takes up the doorway. He slits his eyes open to see Bucky there, fresh from a shower with his jumpsuit half-undone and tied around his waist. The white wifebeater he wears shows off his arms, including the gnarly scars on his left shoulder from his last tour overseas. It clings to skin that is still a little wet, and Tony licks his lips.

“Hey snowflake,” he says, voice raspy. “Come to rub it in?”

Bucky sits cross-legged on the floor, back against the concrete wall. “His name is Peter. He graduated from the academy last May. This is his first job—if you don’t count the food joint he worked at as a kid. And his birthday is August tenth.”

Tony scoffs. “What, you didn’t get his social security number too? I’m disappointed. And I don’t believe you.”

Bucky holds up a scarred hand, solemn. “Swear on my tags.”

“How the hell could you have found out so much about the kid in a handful of hours? With Fury marching around no less.”

The smile that slides over Bucky’s face is so fucking handsome. Downright sensual. “Fury didn’t come. He was just there for headcount. It was Coulson escorting us with the kid. He spent the whole time sitting in the van with the AC and radio on, chainsmoking. You’re going to shit yourself, Tony. This kid is so fucking sincere and sweet—” Bucky throws his voice into what must be a poor impression of Peter’s trembling voice. “—thanks Mister Barnes, you’ve been so friendly. I’m glad my first day was spent with you.”

“Aww fuck. Goddamnit. Son of a bitch.”

Bucky laughs. “Don’t worry, you’re going to get your chance. He told me today was just to break him in. Tomorrow? He’s on the block. And don’t worry, I put in a good word for you. My friend Tony, I said, he’s one of the most solid guys I know. Arrogant as fuck, but a sweetheart underneath the ten different layers of ego and narcicism.”

Tony’s eyes shut. His hands come together in a prayer position over his chest. “Oh thank you, sweet Jesus.”

“Thank me,” Bucky says, wiggling his eyebrows.

In the back of the cell is a curtain that can be drawn shut while an inmate uses the facilities. It’s where most sex happens during the daytime, when anyone is liable to walk by and glance into a cell. Tony jerks a thumb at it. “You want to see what lies behind curtain number one, Buck?”

“Sure. I’m feeling lucky.”

Showers open at dawn, and Tony is one of the first inmates there. He takes extra time soaping himself up in the lukewarm water. By the time trays are brought in, he is dressed with his hair combed. The tank top he wears is white as is required for all clothes that aren’t jumpsuits, and it looks good against his tanned skin. Tony looks fucking good for his age—which is somewhere past thirty and before fifty, thanks, don’t worry about it.

He’s halfway through a tray of biscuits and gravy with more-than-decent hash-browns when Officer Parker comes in, the door of the block screeching open. He’s escorted again by Coulson. They tend to keep senior officers with green ones, because it’s so easy for the new guys to fall prey to inmates, whether by manipulation, intimidation, or sheer manpower. Tony has seen it happen. Tony has caused it, himself. He didn’t end up as the top guy in the block by shaking hands and kissing ass.

Coulson points out things around the block: the cells (obvious), the showers, the cameras. Tony isn’t close enough to hear what’s being said, but he can imagine. Guards come in every hour during the day and every two hours at night to stroll around the block peaking into cells. Even when they aren’t a physical presence on the floor, they are always watching behind the cameras. That will be Peter’s job today: walking the floor. Every sixty minutes, he’ll walk right by Tony in his cute little dress blues. They look too clingy to be at all efficient, especially on Peter’s lithe little form, narrow hips barely able to support the holster on his waist.

Peter turns around and Tony gets a nice glimpse of his ass—God, he wants to bite it.

Bucky looks less enthusiastic today, hair pulled back into a wet bun, dark circles under his eyes. They’d slept in the same bunk last night, but when he’d awoken in the morning, Bucky had been gone. Nightmares, probably. “Now who’s the lucky bastard?” he mumbles around his fork.

Tony. Tony is the lucky bastard.

When Coulson and Peter go by, Tony calls out, face wearing a winning smile. “Good morning, officers.”

“Good morning,” Peter says sweetly. When he notices that it is Tony who spoke, his eyes double in size. Obviously, Tony has already made an impression. He plants his chin on his palm, elbow resting on the table, and lets his eyes rove over the green boy. Unashamed is his middle name.

“Inmate number one to watch out for, Parker,” Coulson says. But Tony thinks there’s a little affection underneath the vacant expression. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

“I’m hurt, Phil,” Tony says. “Really hurt.”

“Stark is here for fraud, and he’s a master manipulator.”

“That’s better—stroke my ego, Phil. I love it. Go on.”

Coulson looks unimpressed. “Give him a wide berth.”

Peter nods obediently. His eyes trail over to Bucky and he lights up, squinting with a smile liable to outshine the sun. “Good morning Bucky! How are you?”

Coulson looks liable to have a fucking stroke. Lips twitching, Bucky salutes. “Doing great, sweet thing, how about yourself?”

“Can’t complain,” Peter says, blushing prettily.

Coulson ends up having to drag him off. Tony can’t imagine the dressing down he’s going to be receiving once they’re in private. Actually, he can, and it’s an image he cherishes. It wouldn’t hurt for the sweet kid to have some sense knocked into him by the other guards—before one of the inmates knocks it into him for them. The thought makes Tony’s fist clench around his fork. If anybody is knocking anything into Peter, it will be him. And Bucky. Preferably at the same time.

“You can hold him down,” Tony says lowly to Bucky across the table. “I’d like to see your thick arms wrapped around him. He looks like a squirmer, so sensitive. You can keep him still with nowhere to go, sitting on your cock, and I’ll suck him off. I bet he cries.”

“Shut up,” Bucky says, eyes half-lidded. He makes a stabbing motion with his plastic fork. “Or I’ll end up in the bathroom at the park beating off.”

“I like the thought of that.”

“Yeah, well I don’t.”

The next time Peter comes around, he is alone. Tony, Toomes, and some of the other guys are sitting around the table playing poker.

“Afternoon gentlemen,” Peter says cordially. Tony is immediately smitten—the kid is trying so hard to be a Big Boy. It’s so fucking endearing. All Tony wants to do is drag the kid by the belt to the nearest cell and suck him off.

“Afternoon, handsome,” Tony says.

“I hope there’s no gambling going on,” Peter says, his arms cross across his chest. Jesus, his arms are skinny but fucking built, muscles straining beneath the cuffs of his shirt. There’s strength there. He’s reminded suddenly that this kid did pass the academy, so he does have some training under his belt.

“Gambling is against the rules, officer,” Tony says brightly. He takes the cigarette from behind his ear, hands desperate for something to do, and tucks it between his lips. “Do we look like rule breakers to you?”

Peter shakes the hand of each man around the table. Tony would have to be blind not to see the looks he’s garnering: incredulity, attraction, calculation. Toomes looks like he’s about to cream his jumpsuit when his rough hand wraps around Peter’s soft, tiny one. The look he shoots Tony is smug.

“Do I get a handshake, Officer?” Tony asks sweetly as the kid is trying to make his escape.

He looks at Tony’s hand like it is a trap. Tony softens.

“I’m sorry if I came on too strong before,” he says gently. “I just want to say, Welcome to LCF.”

Peter takes his hand. It is just as soft and smooth as it looks, but the grip is strong and firm, and Tony feels irrational pride—look at this little boy standing up to him, so fucking fearless. He makes sure to keep the handshake simple and wholesome, even though it hurts to let go. Judging by the look on Peter’s face, he agrees.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” the kid breaths and fuck. That goes right to his cock.

“You’re quite welcome,” he purrs.

The guards work 2-2-3’s, predictably. That means that Peter will have two day shifts, two days off, three night shifts, two days off, two day shifts, three days off, so on and so forth. The next two days with no Peter to look forward to and Bucky spending the 9 to 5 picking up trash are some of the dullest he’s ever had. Rhodey is the only consolation. They spend a lot of their time watching television together or playing chess.

And nights are spent with Bucky. They take turns topping, pressing each other into the mattress and muttering a litany of dirty prose in each other’s ears. Peter makes a lot of appearances in their repertoire, and some of the best orgasms Tony’s had in ages come from imagining him walking into his cell someday to find Bucky sucking off Officer Parker, or the other way around.

Sometimes, Tony has to go behind the curtain in his cell and pretend he’s taking a shit, when in reality he is jerking off to the thought. Popping a boner during poker isn’t exactly welcome.

The night shifts aren’t ideal. From 6 pm to 6 am, Peter will come in to walk the floor, shining light into cells to make sure everything is up to code. There isn’t as much time for conversation, but Tony figures he’ll be happy to spend the night awake in his buck just for the glimpses of Peter he’ll get. God, he’s fucking worked up over this kid. Mr. Stark, he called him. Jesus.

When Peter comes in at six, it is to general greeting suffused with catcalls. His face turns red as a tomato, but he smiles, looking pleased by the comradery.

“Hey doll,” Bucky says when he strolls by. Trays came in a few minutes prior, so they are eating. Salisbury steak tonight, disgusting—but the gravy isn’t half bad. Peter waves, coming over.

“Hi Mr. Barnes. Hi Mr. Stark.”

“It’s Tony, sweetheart,” Tony says. “Even Coulson calls us by our first names. You can do it too.”

“T-Tony,” Peter stutters.

“Say it again,” Tony purrs. “You need to get your practice in now.”

Bucky kicks him under the table. “You’re going to give him an aneurysm. Sorry Pete—Tony is a bit of a horn dog. He’s what the kids call thirsty.”

Peter laughs, hiding his smile behind his hand. “Yeah, I could have guessed. Is he like this with everybody?”

Tony goes to open his mouth, but is stopped by the increased pressure on the arch of his foot by Bucky’s boot under the table. When he glances over, Bucky looks earnest, serious. He puts a scarred hand over his heart. “No sir. Swear on my service tags. You’ve got us all smitten.”

Peter melts. He bites his lip, casting Tony a shy but warm glance. “I—you guys are so nice. I better get back to—yeah—”

They both watch Peter’s ass as he walks away.

“You smooth motherfucker. I need to start taking a page out of your book,” Tony mutters. He rubs his ankle softly against Bucky’s. It’s the most affection they’re willing to give each other out on the floor. Affection is weakness here, and as the guy who runs the floor, Tony knows he has a big target on his chest. He’d rather not make it any bigger. For him, or for Bucky.

It’s nearing ten PM. Lights go out at 9:30, and while not everyone is asleep, the raucous gatherings are contained to individual cells.

Like Tony’s. He is biting his knuckles, panting as Bucky sucks him off. They’ve spent the last hour cuddling in the bunk, running their hands over each other, muttering dirty things between them. He’s been hard for the better part of that hour, and it’s only now that Bucky has shown mercy on him, tugging him up to sit on the edge of the bunk, knees spread wide. He rucks up Tony’s wifebeater over his abs and chest to rub a thumb at one of his nipples, causing his cock to jump.

“Let’s give a show, baby, huh?” Bucky whispers before swallowing him down. Tony jolts, barely managing to cut off the groan that builds up in his throat.

Bucky gives head with enthusiasm and without shame, probably because he looks so fucking hot without his inhibitions, and he knows it. Eyes closed like Tony’s cock is the tastiest thing he’s ever had in his mouth, Bucky drools and chokes himself, sometimes pressing Tony’s cock up so that he can mouth at the older man’s balls, taking them into his mouth one at a time.

Tony holds off his orgasm for as long as he can. He loves this, loves how aroused Bucky gets from sucking cock, whining around it, one hand reaching between his own legs to jerk himself off.

Then comes the light. It blinds Tony whose eyes are accustomed to the darkness. He gasps, jerking backwards in horror at being caught, but Bucky’s hands grab his hips and wrench him forwards, taking him deeper.

There comes a gasp, high and effeminate.

Peter.

The flashlight fumbles and clicks off, but Tony doesn’t hear the footsteps move away. His eyes readjust to the darkness, and he sees Peter’s form standing in the doorway, one hand up to press against his mouth.

Bucky chokes himself, swallowing around the head of Tony’s cock, and something about being watched—being watched by Peter—has Tony gasping, fisting Bucky’s long hair and fucking into his throat as he cums. He barely manages to keep his eyes open through the pleasure, because now he can just make out the dim form of features on Peter’s face, eyes half-closed, and knuckles clutched between his teeth.

He likes what he sees.

“Jesus, baby,” Tony whispers, stroking Bucky’s hair. The man stands up, pants slung to his ankles, fisting his naked cock furiously. The low cots mean that when he cums with a groan, he stripes Tony’s chest with it, and he loves it, fucking loves marking and being marked by Bucky. “You wanted to give Peter a show, huh?”

The sound Peter makes is tortured. He turns and nearly sprints away, perfunctorily walking down the rest of the cells, glancing in to make sure no one is smoking or hoarding blankets or any other thing.

They sit side by side on the bunk, panting.

“All part of the plan, handsome,” Bucky mutters, pressing a tender kiss to Tony’s forehead.

“Petey came to my cell last night,” Toomes says the next day. The guard on duty is in Tony’s palm, so Tony smokes unabashedly and without fear of repercussions, flicking his ash in a neat pile next to him, because littering isn’t cool.

He isn’t sure what his facial expression says, but he hopes its as stony and unbelieving as he feels. “Good for you, Toomes. Did you finally get that suck job you wanted?”

The other man scoffs, waving away Tony’s accusations. “He’s too skittish for that. But he saw me reading. Frankenstein. Did you know he’s a big reader, Tony?”

Tony didn’t know. He tries not to let it show how rankled it makes him, that there is any part of Peter that this vulture has picked off before Tony or Bucky.

“Maybe you can start a book club,” Tony suggests.

Beside him, Rhodey snorts into his cards.

“He’s full of shit, Tony. You know that,” Bucky soothes. He’s sitting on Tony’s cot, freshly showered, watching Tony pace, cigarette clutched between his lips. The younger man is getting a tan from his time spent out in the sun picking up trash. For a fair skinned, fair eyed man, he tans surprisingly well. Tony certainly appreciates the aesthetic.

“He’s not. Not about this, at least,” Tony mutters. “Peter waved to him tonight at dinner when you were getting your tray. I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to look at Toomes with a pleasant expression. I can’t unsee it.”

“You poor thing,” Bucky says, sounding not at all sympathetic. “Look, the kid’s worked here for three days. This is his fourth fucking shift. Seduction takes time. You always do this—if something you want doesn’t fall into your lap right away, you get mopey. Where’s the Tony you always talk about, the one who had patience, who worked hard to reap rewards?”

“Worked real hard to reap my dad’s money, you’ve got that right,” Tony mutters. “You suck at pep talks, snowflake.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Then how about I just console you?”

Tony takes the cigarette from his mouth and points it at him. “Now you’re talking.”

It’s nearing two in the morning. Peter has been by a handful of times, face red when he glances into their cell. Bucky and Tony jerked each other off hours ago—shame he missed it—and have spent the rest of the evening sitting on the cot talking. Bucky does push-ups. Tony admires the view.

“I’m out of smokes,” Bucky says. He means pot—Tony doesn’t partake, but on night when Bucky does, sleeps easier and wakes more rested. “I need more papers.”

“I got ‘em baby.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

Tony can get anything into prison. It’s about greasing the guards—and he makes sure to know which ones squeak and which ones don’t. Then he keeps them well, well lubricated. Whenever someone needs something (matches, drugs, porn, other contraband), Tony is the guy who gets it. But he’s not dumb enough to be the guy who keeps it. That’s on the straw men Tony keeps around the block. One houses the rolling papers. Another has the pot. There’s a cellphone in the cell beside Tony. And if there are shakedowns with guards Tony doesn’t have under his thumb, those men agree to take the fall, and Tony agrees to make it up to them.

It’s late and dark, most people actually asleep now. Tony feels his way down to the cells to the guy who’s housing the papers for joints. The guy snores to wake the dead, but Tony doesn’t care, letting himself in and going to the designated location.

It’s on his way back that he hears the noise.

Voices.

He’d ignore them—some guys will stay up all night talking—but one of those voices is too high.

It’s panicked, too.

Breathing heavier, he takes care to muffle his steps. He isn’t wearing shoes, and that makes him vulnerable in a fight, but he’s held his own in worse situations. The element of surprise will be instrumental in coming out on top—if he needs to. Keeping his breaths quiet, he follows the sounds to the showers, empty but still smelling damp and faintly of soap.

It’s definitely Peter’s voice.

There are windows here that let in the moonlight. Tony stands in the shadow of the doorway, watching and listening.

“Come on, Adrian, quit—”

“You come on, Petey. I’ll make it good for you. It’s got to be tough, being around all the men on the block, being flirted with all the time. Gets a kid hot and bothered I bet, huh? You’re a hot little thing. I saw the way you looked at me last night. I’m here for you, honey. You can use me—”

“I don’t want to. I could lose my job.”

“I’ll take it to the grave, Pete, I swear.”

Peter is pressed against the tiled wall between two showerheads. Adrian is pinning him there with his body, and the size difference is drastic. Peter is so fucking tiny and frail looking, eyes huge and frightened, hands clenching and unclenching even though he has a fucking weapon, come on Pete, pull your baton, your taser, your fucking gun—

Adrian’s hand drifts from where it’s caressing Peter’s jaw. It presses against his chest, fingering the buttons down Peter’s dress blues, and then palms the young man’s cock.

Tony sees red. He wishes he had the shiv he keeps hidden on the floor, but there’s no time to search for it in the dark, and he can make do without it anyway. Get Adrian down and then pull Peter’s baton, beat Toomes again and again and again until the man eats his meals through a straw or not at all.

“I said no, Toomes.” Peter grabs the man’s wrist and twists it expertly. With a strength Tony didn’t know could be contained in such a tiny form, he switches their positions to press Toomes’s face into the wall, grinding it against the tiles. The man struggles but Peter is holding strong, lithe little muscles bulging as he kicks the man’s legs apart so he can’t get proper leverage to push him away. Then he grabs his cuffs, and in a heartbeat, the larger man is subdued. “I tried to be nice, didn’t I? No means no, asshole.”

He wrenches Toomes away from the wall and they both turn to see Tony standing there. They all look at each other, mouths open. Then Tony lifts his hands and brings them together softly, a standing ovation.

“I’m not going to lie,” he says breathlessly. “I’m a little hard right now.”

Peter scowls. “Not now, Tony. Go press the button to let the other guards know I need help.”

“No can do, sweet thing. But it looks like you’ve got it covered for yourself.”

Peter does, frog marching Toomes across the floor and out of the Block. Tony watches it all with an incredulous expression. And a chub. Even after they’re gone, he stands on the quiet, dark floor, pondering what he’s seen. When Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder, Tony nearly jumps out of his own skin.

“What happened?” he asks. “Was that Peter I heard?”

“Oh Buck. You won’t believe this yarn I’m going to spin you.”

Toomes doesn’t return to the block. More than likely, he is shifted to another block with more violent offenders. They tend to group inmates based on the charges against them and their charge history. Tony wonders what exactly he’ll be charged with now. Attempted assault of a police officer? It sounds delicious. Whatever the punishment, it will be too good for him.

Bucky is torn up. Coming home from war has left him sensitive to certain aggressions, and he often feels things too keenly. Takes things too personally. “No means no,” he says, voice thick, faced press into Tony’s neck as he holds him. “Why don’t people listen? No means no.”

“We know that. They know that too. They just don’t care, baby. We’ll see Pete tomorrow and find out how he’s doing.”

Bucky lifts his head. His eyes are cloudy and distant “Tell me again how he roughed up Toomes.”

“With pleasure,” Tony purrs. “He’s so goddamn petite, but his hiding some serious muscles under that uniform. God, it had me worked up, the way he knocked Toomes’s legs apart. The snap of the cuffs. When we get out of here, snowflake, we need to invest in a pair of those.”

Bucky snorts, but he looks pleased.

Part of Tony worried that Peter wouldn’t come in for his shift. He wouldn’t blame the kid; he’d almost been assaulted on the job. The guards had it tough. If it wasn’t sexual harassment, it was physical intimidation—the latter of which Tony himself had been guilty of. But he shouldn’t have underestimated their boy.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Peter says shyly. He’s got his hands on his narrow hips, but Tony knows that those fingers are long enough to wrap all the way around a man’s wrist, wrenching it back.

“How are you?” Bucky asks when Peter comes by.

Peter smiles, soft and gentle. “I’m okay, Bucky. How are you?”

“Better, now that I’ve seen your handsome face.”

Peter blushes, so susceptible to Bucky’s lines. Then he turns his eyes to Tony, and they grow colder. He barely nods recognition before strutting away. Tony can’t even appreciate the way the tight pants hug his ass, because he’s too busy with his mouth agape, jerking a thumb at the boy’s back and asking Bucky, “What did I do?”

That night they are waiting up for Peter the first time he makes his rounds. They decide to sit on the floor so as to be as non-threatening as possible (Peter went through a fucking ordeal yesterday, and they aren’t looking to add to his stress), Tony with his back against the edge of the cot and Bucky propped up against the wall, one foot flat on the floor and the other tickling Tony’s thighs. Yes, the bunks are that small.

As soon as Peter’s light shines in, Bucky calls for him gently.

Carefully, he steps into the room, shining the light towards the ceiling to cast a glow over all of them. His face is somber, but he smiles.

“Hey Bucky. What do you need?”

Bucky doesn’t beat around the bush. “We want to know if you’re really okay. Tony told me about Toomes. That guy’s a fucking piece of work. Hope some guys up on B Block crack his skull in—won’t be no skin off society’s nose.”

Peter shakes his head. “That’s not a good way to talk. That’s not justice. I’m doing fine—Toomes wasn’t hard to subdue.”

“You handled him like a pro,” Tony adds.

Peter’s look frosts over. “Like a police officer, yes. No thanks to you.”

Tony groans. “Is that why you’re mad at me? Because I wouldn’t go press the button for you, baby?”

“Don’t call me that. And yes. I thought we were—” Peter doesn’t finish. He blushes, obviously knowing how silly that sentence sounds: a CO being friends with an inmate. But it cuts Tony all the same, and Bucky’s look across the room is murderous.

“You didn’t try to get help? What the fuck, Tony.” His foot lashes out and catches Tony in the shin, and fuck that stings!

“I’m not a snitch,” Tony snaps.

“Look, I’ll leave you both to this—”

“I was going to handle it if Peter couldn’t—I was going to kill that son of a bitch. That’s how things work in here, you know that Bucky. This isn’t the military. There’s no honor or morals. There’s just rules, and the number one rule is no snitching. If there’s a problem, we handle it this way.”

Peter swallows. “Tony—you can’t just say that. I can’t—I’ve got to tell somebody that you said that, I think.”

“This place doesn’t have honor, but we do,” Bucky growls. “Or at least, I thought you did.”

“You know I’d have killed for him,” Tony says through his teeth. “Just like how I’d kill for you—”

“Would you fucking stop it?” Peter hisses. It’s like a bucket of cold water dumped over them to hear him curse. His grip has gone white on his flashlight he’s so tense, lips pressed into a thin, furious line. “Why are you two doing this? Is it—is this just to, to fuck with me? I don’t get it, I—”

All the anger seeps out of him. He looks lost, tortured. Both of the angry men in front of him soften. What is it about this boy that melts them like wax under flame? Bucky shuffles up onto his knees, looking with his long hair like some knight from an old medieval story, begging for forgiveness of his fair lady.

“Pete, we didn’t mean to come on so strong. Please—will you sit for a bit?”

Peter glances back at the floor. It is dark and mostly quiet, some laughter coming from a cell further down the line. “I shouldn’t,” he says. “I need to do my job.”

“We won’t keep you here, if you want to leave. We aren’t like Toomes. But if you’re willing, we’d like to talk. Work this out.”

Looking torn, Peter sits. Tony and Bucky flank him, but the boy doesn’t look threatened in the slightest, just hunches himself over to rest his elbows on his knees. “Okay. Go ahead and talk,” he says.

“Bucky and I are together.”

Peter snorts. “I got that when I saw him sucking you off.”

Tony blinks. “Oh. Well that happens in here every now and again—some men will do anything in here for company, even if they don’t really swing that way on the outside. But Bucky and I—we’re pretty in love.”

“Yeah,” says Bucky. “He’s dumb. But I love him.”

Peter laughs a little. “Okay. Yeah. So you two are together.”

“We’re polyamorous,” Tony admits. “That means we have a lot of love to give and aren’t unopposed to giving it to multiple people at once. Bucky here, he’s got a boyfriend down the line, Steve—you know Steve?”

“I know Mr. Rogers. He seems nice.”

“He’s real nice,” Bucky smirks. “Our point here is that up until now, we’ve had passing flings with other people, but we’ve never shared anyone. We’ve never wanted to share anyone—until you. And now it’s like our stupidity has squared itself, because we both are falling over ourselves to try to attract you.”

He’s glad he’s letting Bucky take the lead. Tony might have a way with words, but Bucky absolutely has tact and softness that Tony can’t muster up in his wildest dreams. Peter is sitting between them looking red-faced but thoughtful. “So, what? You guys both want to date me?”

“We can’t exactly set up a table with a cloth and wine and dine you, princess,” Tony says. He tries to stay soft and honest, because his mother always used to say that honesty is the best policy. Peter looks like the kind of kid who would appreciate that. “As unfortunate as that is. I’ve got five months left on my sentence, and Bucky has almost double that. And as—what is it Bucky? Thirsty?—as thirsty as we both are, we understand that you wouldn’t want to put your job in jeopardy.”

Peter looks relieved by their admission. “I don’t really know how I feel, to be honest. You’re both—wow, you’re both really hot. Duh. But I don’t know you. Maybe I could get to know you? A little at a time? And once you’re out Tony, if I’m not seeing anyone, we could go out? There’s…” Peter swallows. “There’s definitely chemistry here.”

“Yeah, kid, I feel that,” Tony says.

“We don’t want to pressure you,” Bucky emphasizes, shooting Tony a look overhead that says keep it in your pants. They’ve been seeing each other in here long enough to have reached the telepathic portion of their relationship, thanks. “You’re already promising more than we could have hoped for. And we really appreciate you sitting down and talking things out with us. That’s never easy, doll.”

The younger man blushes prettily, shrugging. He stands. “I really should get back to work.”

“Okay, kid. Whatever you need to do,” Tony agrees. He shifts, hard in his sweatpants, the proximity to his lover and his maybe, possibly, someday lover has sweat beading at the nape of his neck and his imagination running wild. Peter’s eyes track his movements and then fall to his lap.

He licks his lips.

Honest to god.

“I—wait for me. Just—” Peter disappears, flashlight bobbing as he continues down the line. They can hear him popping his head in to a cell further down and telling the guys to please be respectful of the other inmates, thanks!

“Buck,” Tony groans. They smash together with no finesse, both of them stressed and horny from their confrontation with Peter. They taste like mint toothpaste they used before lights out, and Tony licks into the younger man’s mouth unabashedly, sucking on his tongue, licking at his teeth. “God, I need you,” he whispers.

“Take me,” Bucky urges. “Come on, baby. Take me.”

They shed clothes like they’re on fire. Tony folds Bucky’s legs up—for a large guy, he’s surprisingly nimble—and lowers his mouth to Bucky’s ass, licking a hot stripe over his hole and to his balls. He hears the hiss above him, the groan muffled by a fist in his mouth. Not for the first time, Tony hates prison. He hates that they have to be quiet, that they can’t let themselves go and love each other properly, just hushed romps like this in the middle of the night.

“What do you think he meant?” Bucky pants, fingers clenching on Tony’s hair. “Wait for me?”

There is a whispered groan from the doorway. They both turn to see Peter there, leaning against the bars, eyes heavy. “I meant wait, but I get it. God, I get it. You’re both so, wow, god.”

“He’s eloquent,” Tony says. They shift on instinct, turning so as to give Peter a better view. He turns off his flashlight and it takes time for their eyes to adjust to the darkness. Peter stands with his back to the wall, hands clasped behind his back like he’s in handcuffs.

“I can’t—I can’t do anything,” Peter pants. “But I could watch. If you wanted me to.”

“Do you want to?” Bucky asks.

“God yes,” Peter breaths, voice high. One hand palms at his crotch. His uniform has him blending in to the darkness, but they can guess what he’s doing, and fuck that turns Tony on, like there’s fire in his blood. He goes back to eating Bucky’s ass, pressing a thumb against the rim to hold him open so he can slip his tongue inside.

“Jesus, Tony,” Bucky says. “Fuck me. Just fuck me, come on.”

Tony is in full agreement. It’s too much; they’re all too worked up. The sounds from Bucky, the sounds from Peter, the taste of his lover in his mouth—his cock feels fit to burst as he pulls it from his sweats. He doesn’t dare pump it for fear of blowing his load right away. God this isn’t going to be the best performance to share with their new love, but he hopes that Peter can forgive him if he comes off as a three-pump-chump.

He presses in slow. Bucky is still soft and pliant from their fucking the night before, and there’s no discomfort on his lover’s face even when he bottoms out. Bucky’s legs wrap around him and he urges Tony forward with his heels and voice: “Come on, baby. Fuck me. Give it to me. Put on a show.”

Tony knows just how Bucky likes it. There’s no holding back, just the brutal thrusting of his hips that has Bucky giving off choked noises, one hand pressed firmly over his mouth and the other scrabbling at the sheet on the cot. It only takes a moment for Tony to glance over and see Peter, hand flashing in the darkness as he jerks his own cock through his dress blues, and Tony is mounting the crest, balls contracting, stomach tensing.

Bucky blows first, untouched. Tony barely gets a fist around him when he realizes what’s happening, pumping furiously to help his lover through it. Then he is there himself, grip maybe too tight around Bucky’s cock, hips snapping desperately while he blows his load. It feels like it lasts forever. Was over so, so quick.

Even when they’re done, panting, sandwiched together, they hear Peter: breathy little whines from across the room. He stops jerking himself off when they stop lazily and lovingly grinding their hips together, but it’s obvious by the unconscious swaying of his hips that he didn’t cum.

“Take care of him,” Bucky mutters, pressing a kiss to Tony’s sweaty temple. “Get on your knees for him.”

“Yes,” Tony gasps. His cock slips free of Bucky, still tingling pleasantly. He walks on his knees the few feet it takes to be at Peter’s feet, staring up at his tortured expression.

“I can’t,” Peter gasps. “I can’t do anything. That’d be wrong—”

“Then don’t do anything, Officer,” Tony purrs. He reaches a hand up and rubs at Peter’s cock. The kid keens softly, thrusting his hips out even as he grips uselessly at the wall. He’s desperate for relief, desperate to get away. Tony bats his eyes, though no one can see in the dark. “Let me do the work, sir. Please?”

Peter swallows hard. He nods frantically, and that’s all Tony needs to undo Peter’s belt, wrench down his dress slacks and boxers. He doesn’t even get a good look at the kid’s cock, just swallows him down. It’s a nice mouthful, and he has to work to get the last inch or so, taking the head just into his throat. “I’m—I don’t want to hurt you,” Peter gasps.

Tony swallows.

Peter cums. Tony barely manages to pull back, desperate to taste him on his tongue. One hand comes up to work at Peter’s twitching cock, the other cradling his balls to help prolong his pleasure. The kid sounds like he’s never cum before in his life, hands gripping at the concrete wall, giving tiny aborted thrusts, mouth open and panting.

“Thank you, Officer,” Tony says, voice a little distorted from deep-throating. Peter slumps down the wall, knees shaking, until they’re kneeling across from each other. Tony can’t help it, he laughs a little. “You didn’t need to be worried about hurting me, baby. That wasn’t my first blowjob.”

It’s Peter’s turn to chuckle. “I did have good reason to be worried.” He cuts himself off, like there was more he was going to say, but stopped himself.

“What is it, doll?” Bucky asks. He’s lounging on the bed, watching them with lazy, sated eyes. He’s so fucking handsome, Tony crawls across the floor to kiss him and press the last of Peter’s cum into his mouth. The other man moans appreciatively.

“It’s kind of a crazy story,” Peter admits.

“We know a thing or two about crazy,” Tony says. “Try us.”

Peter’s clenches his hands together tightly. “It’s weird, actually. It has to do with a spider.”

Bucky and Tony share a glance, equal parts confused and amused. Tony settles in, leaning his head to rest on the cot beside Bucky. “Go on then,” he says. “We’re listening.”

Tag list: @crown-filth

#winterironspider #starker #winteriron #prison #drugs #violence #cagewrites

544 notes · View notes

jessevans · 4 years

Text

I've always be yours

Pairing: pre-war!bucky barnes x reader

Words: no idea

Warnings: fluff

A/N: Okay... First I would like to apologize for my English. That it is not my first language. And that I "learned" by myself, so, I already apologize. And second, I'm extremely nervous about posting this one shot? that I wrote five years ago, so e nice with me haha. Anyway, I hope you guys like it. Feedback it's always welcome..

It was a hot summer day in Brooklyn where the three childhood friends, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers and Y/N were bored and heated.

"Oh my God. I can't take this heat anymore! Nothing I do seems to do any good. Look! I'm practically soaked with my own sweat!."Y/N said sitting in the middle of the two boys who had a small smile from the corner of their mouths when they saw the girl trying refresh herself with a bottle of water.

"I think that only a beach would solve your problem Y/N." Steve said cluelessly that he had just said everything Y/N wanted to hear.

"YES! Rogers, you are a genius! Come on guys, I'm going to make a picnic basket, Bucky you and Steve are in charge of getting the umbrella, the ball and everything else." Y/N said jumping off the couch and running excitedly to the kitchen to prepare snacks and everything else.

Bucky in particular was not so euphoric to go to the beach, but the truth is, he was completely in love with Y/N since the moment he saw that little girl of only 7 years old with those big Y/C/E eyes completely furious because Dilan Craig was hitting little Steve, and she couldn't bear to see a boy almost the size of a bear hurt the poor boy, so she decided take care of that, with her own hands.

Bucky was completely in love when he saw the way she helped Steve get up off the floor, and the way she tried to tame without caring much her long, full, messy curly hair after rolling on the floor with Dilan and showing what happens to a bully. After that, Bucky decided that he needed her in his life, making the three of then inseparable ever since.

Over the years, Bucky has become one of the most handsome boys in the neighborhood and attracting many young ladies. Steve with his poor health was always a little aside when it came to girls, like he always said he was looking for the right girl to marry. Y/N was no longer that awkward and shy little girl, she became a beautiful young woman that wherever she arrived, stole the whole attention.

And that didn't go unnoticed by Bucky, he knew very well that what he felt for Y/N was much more than a simple friendship. And that feeling was much more special than he had ever felt for any other girl. But seeing the beautiful woman that Y/N has became he couldn't help thinking that she deserved more than a simple boy from Brooklyn, so he choose to leave his feelings for himself.

That’s why he always did everything to be close to her, and she wouldn't like it any other way, because secretly she carried the same feelings for him. But just like him, seeing all the beautiful girls who threw themselves at his feet, she couldn't help but to think that she would never be good enough, that one day he would choose her. BUCKY!

- "BUCKY!" Steve passed his hands in front of Bucky's eyes to get his attention - "Huh? What?" - "You were far away, huh ... Maybe thinking about a certain girl? - "Don't even start, I wasn't thinking about Y/N" - "I wasn't talking about Y/N" Steve smirked. - "Shut up!" turned his back, knowing he had been caught. - "Hey, come back here, I can't carry all this my myself!"

*******

- "Ah, this will be great! it feels like forever since we've been on the beach!" Y/N said excitedly walking between the two boys - "I think you are making us carry a lot of junk. I bet it will rain." Bucky said carrying all the heaviest things. - "No, It won't.!It won't. Stop talking like that!" Y/N said putting the sunscreen in her bag, totally excited - "Come on boys, run!" Y/N running when she spotted the beach, leaving the two behind - "Is she seriously telling us to run? She knows we're carrying all the weight, right?!" Steve said carrying the heavy picnic basket that Y/N prepared. - "Don't be so soft, Punk." Bucky said smiling. - "I'm not soft, Jerk!"

*******

- "Ah, so much better!" Y/N said settling under the umbrella with the two boys. - "It didn't solve much for me, doll. It's still hot." Bucky said not missing the chance to tease the girl. - "Simple. If it's hot just go for a swim, that's why we came to the beach, Buchanan." Y//N said knowing that Bucky hated being called by his middle name - "I will go in one minute." Y/N says. - "No, you won't! Did you forget what happened last time?" Bucky said looking at the girl who rolled her eyes. - "Bucky, it's been 10 years and you still insist on reminding me of it." - "It doesn't matter, you won't go swim alone!" said Bucky firmly to Y/N who didn't like to be contradicted at all. - "Cool, I want a milk shake! Will you guys want the usual?" Steve asked getting up and cleaning his shorts. - "Yes" said the other two. - "Ok." Steve said turning towards the ice cream shop.

- "Why do you insist on treating me like a child?" Y/N said mad at what Bucky had said. - "And why are you so stubborn? Do you know that you don't know how to swim and you want to go alone in the water?" - "Then come with me!" - "Later. Come here, I don't like to have these fights with you" Bucky said pulling her close to him and wrapping her in his arms. A little smile appears on Y/N face. - "Simple, stop acting like an asshole." a mischievous smile on her face when she says it, very close to Bucky's face getting a laugh from him. - "You are incorrigible, doll." - "That's what they say" smiles the girl

But the moment in they little bubble of happiness is interrupted by none other than Dolores who everyone know as Dot. Dot is one of the most desired girls in the neighborhood and with the worst reputation one of the ex-Bucky’s little cases who didn't seem to know what "we're done" means.

- "Hello James, interesting to meet you here" she said sitting next to Bucky completely ignoring the presence of Y/N. - "Hi Dot. Yeah, It was Y/N idea. Right now we were talking about taking a dip, right doll-" - "Ah, I would love to! Come on, Bucky!" said Dot pulling the boy before he could make an excuse. - "Er... Ah, you know what...I forgot we just had lunch, Steve is just now buying ice cream because we forgot to bring dessert."

Y/N who was sitting there tired of rolling her eyes because Dot, decided to go for a walk near the rocks that were nearby. She couldn't stand to see the redhead caressing Bucky's arm and chest and he didn't doing nothing to stop it. In her mind she certainly had no chance to compete with Dolores' beauty. Little did she know that for Bucky, she was one in a million.

- "Bucky, I think I'm going to take a walk near the rocks, there is a horrible smell in the air that is making me sick." said the girl, standing up and referring to Dot's very strong imported perfume.

- "Do it, James and I need some time alone to finish some things we left pending last night." Dot said sensually looking at Bucky. Without waiting any longer, Y/N turned towards the rocks leaving Bucky with no time to stop her.

- "WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM? Why did you say that to her? I haven't had anything with you in months! It doesn't exist yesterday, nor today, much less tomorrow for us! It's OVER!" - "James, love, you can't be serious-" - "I'm serious, Dolores! Don't look for me anymore, you're not the girl to me!" - "And who would it be? Huh? Who? That stupid Y/N?"

The moment Dot mentioned Y/N Bucky lost control, he grabbed her by the arm and made sure to look the redhead in the eyes. - "I will say this just once, Dolores ... Don't you dare mention the name of Y/N again like that in front of me, or I won't answer for myself!" - "Get your hands off me!" said the redhead walking away from him - "you'll regret this, James!" - "I really doubt it! Goodbye, Dolores!" Bucky turned and went looking for Steve.

It didn't take long for Bucky to find Steve, who was stuck in line to buy ice cream

- "Yeah, I know I'm taking too long. But look at the size of this line-" - "Steve something happened. Y/N and I were sitting there after you left and I almost had the chance to confess everything I feel for her but then Dot arrived and ruined everything, she invented it in front of Y/N that yesterday we were together and then Y/N went for a walk on the rocks. Steve you need to help me find her! You know I wasn't with Dot, yesterday we were playing cards! " Bucky was panting after telling his best friend everything

- "Bucky, calm down! I know, I know! Calm down! Let's find Y/N and solve everything. But calm down!" - "Ok. Okay, I'm calm." - "Great. So ... Confess yours feelings, right?! ... I knew!" Steve said with a very mischievous smirk - "Shut up, Rogers." Bucky said smiling to his friend, going to find Y/N.

But suddenly a turmoil around the rocks caught the attention of the two friends, when a woman who was around spoke terrified:

- "Oh my God! a girl slipped on the rocks and fell into the sea, and she hasn't left the water yet."

A terror was stamped on the faces of the two friends, Bucky shot out towards the sea that surrounded the rocks. After he dived and swam for what seemed like an eternity, he found the body of whom he was hoping to find, Y/N. He picked up her already unconscious body and took it to the surface where Steve ran to help.

After her body was placed in the sand, and seeing that she was not breathing, Bucky started doing resuscitation and mouth-to-mouth breathing, trying not to panic. - "Come on, doll! Please don't do this to me. Come on ... 1, 2, 3" That was when Y/N's eyes opened and finally she spit out all the water she had swallowed, but still coughing and breathing hard, they decided it was best to take the girl to the hospital, just in case.

*******

In the waiting room Steve was sitting while Bucky paced around. - "Bucky, can you calm down! She's fine! She was breathing much better when we got here" - "Then why nobody came to give any news? It's been almost 1 hour since she is in there!

That was when the doctor who helped her was leaving

- "Doctor! Doctor wait! Please, my ...friend has been in there for almost an hour, please, can you tell us how she is? She drowned, her name is Y / M / L / N" Bucky said and Steve gets up right behind

- "What do you mean, nobody came to tell you?" the doctor ask

- "Tell us what?" The blond said

- "She is perfect fine. She is resting right now. In this afternoon she will be released to go home, you two can go and see her, but the hospital rules only allow one at a time." Said the doctor already retiring.

- "Thank you Doctor!"

- "Thank you!"

- "You go there Buck, you two have a lot to talk about."

- "Are you sure? I can go later if you want-"

- "Bucky!!! Go."

Entering the room Bucky saw Y/N sleeping like an angel.

He pulled up a chair near her bed where he took her hand and brought it to his lips

- "You gave us a good scare this time, doll. For a moment, I thought I was going to lose you without even having you for real. I'm an idiot. I should have done this a long time ago. The truth is ... The truth is that I love you you Y/N. So much! From the moment I saw you all enraged because Steve had been beaten by Dilan Craig. You with all your bossy, stubborn way. And totally sweet at the same time.You drive me crazy, doll. I'm crazy for you. And I wish I had enough balls to tell you that with you awake." Bucky looks down, rubbing his face in his hands and doesn't realize when Y/N opens her eyes after hearing every word that he said. - "I think I did you a favor then" Y/N said with a smile and eyes with tears from knowing that her feelings were reciprocated.

- "Y/N? B-but I thought, I thought you were sleeping, y-you-"

- "I was sleeping, but you are so noisy when entering somewhere, I woke up with the noise of the chair and then when you started saying these beautiful things to me, I didn't want to interrupt you."

- "Doll, sorry if I woke you up, you must be tired I'll call someone-"

- "Buchanan! Stop talking a little, and just listen "

Bucky nods looking down

- "I've never imagined that I was going to be saying this -at least not out loud-" Y/N says -"But the truth is that I love you too Bucky. So so much! But I never, ever imagined that you could feel the same it’s just... I am, I ... I am not like the other girls, Bucky. I don't know how to be... glamorous, or elegant, much less beautiful! I'm not ... I am not like Dot." Y/N said looking at Bucky who was looking at her like she had two heads.

- "Are you listening to yourself, woman? How can you say such a thing, Doll? Don't you ever looked in the mirror? And WHAT? "I'm not like Dot"? For God's sake, of course you not! I wouldn't love you if you were." Bucky said now getting up from the chair and sitting on the bed with her "For me, you are the most beautiful ..." he would whisper and get closer ... "the most glamorous -whatever that means... "holding her chin, whispering very close to her lips "...The most perfect girl for me."

And with that his lips take yours in a soft and full of passion kiss, stoping just for breath.

- "Just for the record, last night I wasn't with Dot, I haven't had anything with her for a long time. I was with Steve, I was teaching him a card game-"

- "I know Bucky. I saw Dot with her parents on my shift last night at the cafeteria." She said kissing him, now passionately.

When they eventually stop to catch their breath, he rests his forehead on hers and whispers

- "Please, Doll. Say that you will be mine?"

- "Buchanan, I've always be yours."

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #pre war bucky #steve rogers #pre war steve #Sebastian Stan #chris evans #Capitain America

19 notes · View notes

blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Loki Baby Pt 17

@theincaprincess, @alishlieb, @lilith15000, @himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shesakillerkween

Silently across the floor in his much missed pair of slippers Loki strode crossing your room in flossing pajama pants and a long tuning hanging to his knees with the sleeves he had pulled up to keep from fidgeting with the buttons securing the ends of them. From the doorway he admired the lights cascading around you and he asked, “Did you sleep well?”

Shifting on your feet his eyes met yours in his step closer hearing, “Feels like it. Did you?”

“Not much. Mother and I caught up. A breakfast is being prepared, I have already woken our guests and captives.”

“Well Steve won’t have to worry long. I can take him back after we eat.”

Loki, “So soon?”

“It would be a quick trip no need to spoil your relaxing. I could pop there and back, grant you more time to spend with her. Peter seems to be up for some exploring so I can take Steve and Ronan home and we can see where we’re taking him off to first. Seems he needs some adventures of his own after being lost for five years.”

Loki smirked leaning in, “So much for that pretend cold exterior, your warm heart is showing.” With a cupping of your cheek his lips met yours for a lingering kiss.

Brushing your nose against his through his smirk you murmured, “What can I say, I gravitate towards misfits lost in time.”

“He is charming.” Another kiss was stolen and the hand on your cheek lowered to tangle in yours. “Something close to a younger brother at times. As long as I get to go I wouldn’t mind traveling with you.”

“I would only ever leave you behind if you asked.”

“I would never ask.” With a tilt of his head he showed you to the others waiting in the dining room around the same golden table to fill your seats as Frigga did the same smiling at her son just now releasing your hand to ease your chair in for you.

Steve across the table said, “Morning.” Adjusting Tasha in his arm accepting the bowl of pureed food and a small spoon from a servant to feed her with. “Sleep well?”

“I did, thank you. Yourself?”

Steve’s brow inched up, “Oh, you mean knowing I was being held captive on this planet, taken from my wife and home.”

Loki murmured, “Sounds familiar.” Making Steve look at him with a brow raised.

“I realize you’re angry with me but don’t take it out on the Asgardians. They have been nothing but kind to you and all of us under these circumstances. I’ve explained why you are being sent back to 2018, I’m not going to hash it out again, Peggy understands the rules and agreed to the terms. With her usual schedule nothing really would change, every three weeks without seeing her girl so she can work to her heart’s content and you handle Tasha’s care. Nothing really changes, you get your family and the future advantages.”

Steve, “Everything changes, what happens to past me? Do I just die again? Now Peggy’s a Widow and can’t ever talk about Tasha or me?”

“You are divorced, and Peggy will get through. In her job she is not meant to boast on her family anyways. However, Tasha will be said to be in your care living with distant relatives and a boarding school after that. All easily explained.”

Steve, “I don’t have family.”

Lifting your fork you stabbed a slice of the diced potato scramble, “Now you’re just being obstinate.”

Steve, “What if I don’t agree to the divorce?”

“Don’t need to you’ve already signed the papers,” parting his lips, “Now you can go back to flirting with Peggy’s niece.” Smirking behind his glass Peter took a sip at Steve’s brows furrowing in your first bite mentally commenting ‘ooh burrrn’ on your verbal battle.

Steve, “I didn’t know who she was.”

Jack smirked, “Welcome to the Time Traveler’s dilemma, to flirt or not to flirt. Choose your bed fellows carefully, could turn out to be a relative of someone you loved, or hated, or tried to eat you.”

Peter asked with wide eyes, “People try to eat you?”

Jack chuckled, “I don’t make a lot of friends in my line of work. Threats of being eaten aren’t common, but not unheard of. Don’t worry, we won’t take you anywhere too dangerous.”

Steve asked with feigned excitement, “Just when are we off on this adventure?”

“You are headed home after breakfast,” making his eyes snap to yours that were now on Ronan. “I can take you back as well.”

Ronan nodded his head, “That would be very kind of you. This was fun. I cannot wait to see what ripples out of our adventure this time.”

Steve, “I thought it would take days.”

“I thought you were loathing another moment on this prison of a planet.”

Steve stole a glance at Frigga and sighed, “Your planet is not a prison.”

Frigga chuckled to herself, “Oh I take no offence, you are not the first to feel that way about our planet. And if I might, you should have faith in the Frey, they have not steered us wrong. A difficult entanglement now and you just might find a greater peace from it. I understand medical reasons were why you returned, to help your people, and now your child will be safe from such issues.”

Steve, “But Peggy’s other children-,”

“All live long lives, you know, you met them at her retirement home remember? There are limits on saving the world. You meant well, we know that, but you are a bit of an idiot and fell into a trap.”

“You say that as if you’ve never fallen into a trap.” He fired back giving Tasha another spoonful of the food.

Your giggle however had him glance up to hear you say while slicing your pancakes, “Usually my traps are whole planets locked in life and death situations. Most often involving children.” That had his brow inch up, “You aren’t the only bleeding heart at this table.”

Steve teased back, “How exactly does that work with you having two hearts?”

“Makes me bigger than you. Obviously.”

Steve glanced at Ronan, “So where did she find you?”

Ronan, “I was destroying Xandar, this puny group of mortals tried to stop me.”

Steve looked at you, “You pulled him from a battle field?”

“Technically it used to be a botanical garden until his pod crashed into it.”

Steve, “Why would you attack a botanical garden? You hate gardens?”

Peter, “Were the animals ok?”

You shook your head, “No animals in their gardens,”

Ronan stated, “They believe to cage animals is another form of subjugation, and yet they still steal and enslave countless Braxians and Crovux to mind the cores of their power mills knowing it melts them from the inside out. The most efficient for the tiny access panels are their children.”

Steve, “So you are saving the children?”

Ronan locked his eyes on him, “That is how the first enslavement of my people began. We have a longstanding alliance with their people, to abandon their children would be unthinkable.”

Steve, “So you attack the whole planet?”

Ronan, “After evacuating the power mills first yes. We managed to save five thousand children we will return home once they have been medically cleared.”

Peter, “Aww, just baby saving all over the galaxy.”

Questions from the teen bubbled out through the rest of the meal until the plates were cleared and you showed Ronan and Steve back to your ship. The pair curiously taking in final glimpses of the city while you locked the Kree ships in your beam again and cracked the dials to the right date while the system was printing our Tasha’s paperwork for you. That brought Steve closer to inspect each of them, “Divorce papers, birth certificate, social security card, complete with dates to take her for her vaccinations.”

Steve, “These are legal?”

You nodded, “Yup, part of the job. Now she can get into schools and all that fun stuff as she gets older.”

Steve, “Growing older is not fun.”

“Maybe not for you. Give some looser clothes a try. Or a Dad bod.” You said cranking the last dial and lowering a lever parking the softly whirring ship. In a trot down the steps from the control panel you said, “But she is going to have a blast, I’m sure of it.” At the door you eased open he followed you and in the middle of a park you opened the door and nodded your head easing the folded papers into his pocket, “Just relax, you’ll do fine. You have friends here.” In a wink at Tasha you said, “Have fun Sky Dancer. Keep this one in line.”

Out he stepped after a head nod at Ronan and looked around taking in the familiar park with ducks in the lake making him turn and point to them saying, “You wanna see the ducks Tasha?” Moving closer at her giggling clap while you closed the door behind them seeing the Reapers fading away at the returned peaceful hum of the time stream being mended.

“What the hell was he thinking? We had a plan. You go back, get the stones and then you come back!”

A pat on Sam’s arm had him falling silent and following Bucky’s head nod, “Hey Steve!”

Turned around the blonde gave a greeting head bob and Sam muttered, “Ok, why’s he got a baby?” Crossing the grassy field he asked when they met up, “Hey buddy, who, um, who ya got there?” His eyes lingering on the blonde haired blue eyed girl nearly his double.

Steve, “This is Tasha,” the name made the pair struggle not to smirk, “My little girl.”

Bucky, “You had a baby, no wonder you’re late! Where’s the mom?”

Steve wet his lips, “Well, Peggy,”

Bucky nodded and rubbed his face, “Peggy.”

Steve, “I was told I had to come back, tore a hole in time by staying.”

Sam smirked asking, “So she gets the house you get the baby?”

Steve’s head bobbed to the side, “Something like that. How late am I?”

Bucky, “An hour, Thor’s helping the braniac squad try to get you back.”

Sam, “More importantly,” he asked looking over his long tunic, trousers and boots, “What are you wearing?”

Steve, “Ah, ya, my ride, we stopped at Asgard.”

Bucky, “Thor is gonna love to hear from you then. Let’s get you back, maybe you can help to snap Nat out of it.”

Steve, “Out of what?”

Sam, “Keeps muttering something about being snatched out of the air by this box and something about a bluebird. Soaking wet too oddly enough, just found her in the middle of the living room.”

Steve, “Bluebird?” His brows furrowing as he felt a twinge in his mind trying to remind him of something around that word and how she was saved.

Back to the Tower they went and caught the stunned expressions on the faces of those they passed in the lobby and into the lab where Steve smirked seeing tiny toddler Morgan hop off her chair and race over, “Uncle Steve!”

Into his free arm she hopped and he lifted her up saying, “Hey there Ladybug. You weren’t scared, were you?” She shook her head and he smiled, “Didn’t think so.” Kissing her cheek and moving closer to the scientists around Thor who were all looking him over.

Thor pointed at him, “Those clothes..”

Tony, “Did you steal a baby?!”

Steve, “No, she’s my baby girl.”

Bruce, “You, had a baby..”

Steve, “With Peggy, but it’s sort of complicated. I tore a hole in time, got told I had to come back.”

Scott, “But how’s that possible, you broke the time window. The watch wouldn’t work. Where is the watch? You lost it?!”

Steve glanced at Thor, who had moved closer inspecting the embroidery on his sleeve, “This is from Asgard.”

Steve nodded when their eyes met, “Your mother called her, Frey, something.” Parting the Asgardian’s lips, “But she said her name was Bluejay.”

Thor, “You found a Frey, no one has seen a Frey in thousands of years. Must have been one hell of a hole.”

Steve nodded and grinned seeing the Prince stroke Tasha’s cheek and said, “Loki seemed to be amused,”

That had Thor’s eyes back on him, “Loki was there? You are certain? But Bruce brought Loki back.”

Steve nodded, “Ya, they’re, involved him and Bluejay. He was there.”

Thor exhaled, “He knows nothing of any Frey. He would tell me.”

Steve shook his head, “But I saw him.” His eyes turned to the doorway spotting Loki strolling in with an aloof expression with a notepad in hand, “Loki! Tell them about Bluejay!”

Loki’s brow inched up and he shook his head, “I am not overly enthralled with the winged species of this planet to produce information on them at command. Welcome back, I see that my notes will no longer be necessary.” His eyes shifted to the child, “And, now there is a baby.” His eyes snapped from the girl to Steve.

“Loki, I just saw you, on Asgard with your mother and Peter and some blue guy named Ronan.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed, “Peter? The child in the living room? We just met.”

His brows clenched a bit tighter in confusion and Thor said, “He also stated you were involved with a Frey.”

That had Loki’s head shift to face his brother, “A Frey?”

Thor nodded, “Mother named her as a Frey.”

Loki looked to Steve, “Perhaps you met an older version of myself. I have not met any Frey, yet.”

Tony, “Peter was there? Peter Parker? He’s on the couch calming down with some tacos.”

Thor, “Clearly what has occurred has troubled more than we had intended to involve a Frey. It is best we let these matters lie and unfold later.”

Dr Strange, “What’s so special about A Frey?”

Loki, “They are old, very old, masters of Time itself traveling to right the mistaken Time Streams of others. Not to be trifled with. Only when matters are dire do the Frey entangle themselves with other races. Those refusing are not uncommonly wiped out of existence.”

Steve muttered, “Seemed perfectly thrilled yourself to be tangled with her.” That made Loki look up at him with a brow raised.

Tony claimed hold of Morgan and said, “This Bluejay, wouldn’t happen to have had a box with them? Nat-,”

Steve nodded, “Where is she?” Following Thor to Natasha’s usual room in the tower he found her on the bed with Hawkeye beside her holding her hand and trying to console her.

Lowly she repeated, “I know what I saw.” Her eyes shifted to Steve still full of fear in asking, “Baby?”

Steve smirked closing the distance to sit beside her, “This is my daughter Tasha,” The name had her brow inching up, “I wanted to settle down with Peggy, but I tore a hole in time. Got told to come back but I got to bring my girl. I wanted her to grow up strong like you and Peg.” Inching a grin out across her lips, “Now, Tony said you fell, got caught?”

Natasha nodded, “Called herself Bluebird, I fell through this box into a pool. There was this huge otter with her. She helped me out, next thing I know I woke up here. In the middle of the living room.”

Steve wet his lips asking, “Are you sure it wasn’t Bluejay?” her lips parted and he said, “Cuz Bluejay found me. And I saw her box, it had a pool and a waterslide inside.”

Hawkeye, “What sort of box has a waterslide inside?”

Steve said, “It’s a ship, just looks like a box on the outside, cloaking device.”

Natasha chuckled to herself, “I knew I wasn’t crazy.” Her eyes dropped to Tasha and she grinned accepting hold of the girl Steve eased into her lap.

“You’re not crazy. Apparently she’s very old, and likes to pop in and out. Not very fond of me at the moment.”

*.*

Back to Ronan’s side you strolled and caught his smirk in noting the calmer readings on your panel and he asked, “Back to Hala then?”

“After a stop.”

His brow inched up and you said, “I made you a promise some years back, that I would meet you somewhere. As a sort of thank you, I thought you might like to see this, a sort of incentive to not chase after Thanos.”

Again after a few moments of whirring he rumbled, “And just what might be the incentive?” Following you to the door you opened for him while leaning against the other. Around Xandar thousands of Kree ships hovered around his own parting his lips.

Over the intercom of your ship he could hear his own voice stating, “Bluejay! Welcome to the moment of my victory against this parasite! This moment will ring in infamy echoing through all Kree kind, none will doubt our strength, and all who dare defy us shall be cleansed! And we are honored to have you witness it, the strengthening of our allegiance, from the moment of your aid in our salvation, the path offered to us in our darkest hour. A freedom offered to us and now we extend that invitation, in your name. Welcome back, my friend.”

Smirking at the Ronan in your ship watching in teary eyed awe at their descent you answered, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world, big Ro. Happy cleansing.”

Closing his eyes Ronan stepped back easing the door closed in front of him resting his forehead on the warm indented panel with a tear streaming down his cheeks at the sound of the first shot fired. He could wait, until he’d earned to witness it for himself. Five minutes was all it took after the power cells being torn out freeing thousands more children before the hoards of Kree were lowered down to the surface to raze the planet to cinders. The silence after had him looking to you as you shut the door hearing his ships sounding their victorious trumpeting flair into the air in a pull back giving Xandar a wide berth while the planet cracked and began to spit out flames of glittering lights from blue, white, green and purple marking the planet would implode soon. On her own Precious floated back as well joining the other ships to bob and sway on the waves of the imploding planet.

“I might have exaggerated a bit,” his eyes opened and fell on you as you pointed through the cracked door, “That piece looks a bit bigger than a postage stamp.”

With lips quivering he closed the distance lifting you in a tight hug burying is face into your shoulder and neck tightening his hold at your arms closing around the backs of his shoulders clutching onto his shirt. For as long as it lasted he held you through the victorious first song then let you down smiling at you as you wiped his cheeks. Weakly he chuckled and then said, “I am ready for Hala now.”

“Sure thing, big Ro.” Stealing a peek outside when your back was turned he smirked in easing the door shut anxious to know just how he would guide his people to this moment but memorizing everything he could as he turned to see you guiding the ship back to 2014 just outside of Hala’s territory.

A hum sounded the removal of his ships from your protective field and another sounded your landing inside his control room, another tight hug later you both laughed through and he set you down leaving through the door stating, “Safe travels, my friend.”

With a smirk you leaned in the doorway and said, “Same to you. You’ll know what to do when you see it. And do try to have some fun, or what good is it all in the end really?” Making him chuckle again as you closed your door that soon rippled out of view when your ship moved out from inside his.

Exhaling sharply you said, “Alright, Vormir here we come.” A flick of your fingers on your rounded dial came as your eyes clenched at the golden glimmering cough you let out into your elbow before mumbling, “Ok, come on, just some dials and knobs then bed. K9?” In a glance around the ship you sighed, “Right, um, Copper?”

From one of the halls a floating otter came into view and cocked his head through a low hum in a silent request as to how he could help you. “Copper, Sweetheart, I need you to open the doors to the pool please.” In another agreeing hum he flew off to do so.

Exhaling slowly another golden breath you had been trying to hold in signaling you weren’t fully settled yet triggered by the time travel you decided on pushing to finally have some peace from the screaming of time this was the last line crying out for help. A snap of your fingers had the doors opening and a pulled lever had the ship turning on its side making you plant your feet in holding onto the bar around the control panel.

*.*

Under misty skies after a fall off the side of a cliff a hard slam against the wall had Hawkeye gripping as tightly as he could to the tether and his best friend’s forearm. Shakily Natasha drew in a breath and took in their situation. Far from possible the climb up couldn’t be managed by him with his hold of her. They had to get the stone and get back, only clearly one of them could make it. He had a family and even with so many good friends she had never thought to earn the trust of they could go on without her. Just as her training had ensured she continue her path was light and easy to discard, in a matter of speaking. No family to speak of and no one fully dependent on her. The choice was clear, her choice. A hard kick later and down she fell. Where she had expected fear she felt only a warm welcome. The cool hand of death reached out and, surprisingly, was gripped in welcoming.

But that chill on her hand merely was the lingering chill of the wind as her eyes flinched wider seeing the wooden hall rotating around her in her plummet through an archway and soon another to fall into a chilled pool of water in the sharp turn of the room around her. Down to the bottom of the pool she fell only to watch a giant otter swim down and help to carry her up to the surface again.

Free from the sideways turn you sent your ship off to 2018 again, a few minutes after the team would have learned from the returned Hawkeye she was gone, into the living room and coughed into your shoulder again trotting to help the woman out of the pool. Coughs sounded in your entrance to the doorway and with a firm grip onto her hands you pulled her up to her knees on the edge saying, “Hello Natasha.”

“Am I dead?”

“No.”

She looked you over as the otter continued to swim behind her choosing to make the most of his moment of being in the water. “Who are you?”

“Blujay. But don’t worry about that.”

“I have to get back, my friend-,”

“I know.”

Her brows furrowed, “You know? What could you know?”

Before she could move you locked your eyes on hers saying, “Sleep.” The word making her eyes droop shut and into your arms she slumped and you picked her up bridal style carrying her to the doors that opened allowing you to carry her out and lay her down on the floor and dart back inside your ship that closed and vanished at the nearing of voices from the others.

Hawkeye was the first and near inconsolable after having seen Natasha fall but not having seen her body on the ground after wondering what had happened to her. “Nat!” He cried out crossing the room to cradle her in his arms and inspecting her for any visible injuries in the sea of confused people wondering how she had landed here and why she was soaking wet.

*.*

Off again you went, and on the middle of a trip to Yellowstone young Peter stood huffing after having been told to put his slinky down and focus on the park around them. On the back bumper of the car jeep he came in he left it and with a curious furrow of his brows he looked over the seemingly golden glittering woman in shorts and a baggy shirt. Bright golden eyes scanned over the park around her while he eyed her glowing bare feet hovering above the warm green grass below them until she froze looking him over. A wave from him was answered with a wave and grin from her and in his move to warn his mom she and his slinky was gone, the latter he wouldn’t notice until later.

*.*

Just barely a matter of minutes had passed and after a stop to hurl the mirrored boxes holding the Weeping Angels you had captured into a burning sun destroying them you landed on Asgard again. Coughing into your arm you eased the door open and backwards into the ship you fell as your eyes rolled back. The return of the ship spread the grin on Peter’s face in his excitement to share a new sight he had found only to fall with Loki’s beside him seeing your body arch up from the ground in Copper’s wiggle under you urging K9 in a full sprint over to you after leaping off a tall balcony to do so.

Up again you sat and gripping the doorway your eyes locked forward again from their swim around and up you were climbing back to your feet flashing them a grin. Stroking K9’s head as he approached you calmed him, “Bluejay, you fell.”

“Yes I did,” you giggled out.

Peter got there first and he looked you over then gasped at the slinky in your palm you offered to him he cradled, “Mr Slinksimmons!” His eyes popped up again and he asked, “Are you ok?”

You nodded and Jack stopped beside Peter asking, “How many stops did you take?”

“Just, four?”

Jack, “Four?! No wonder you fell!”

“Well, you know those round things in the playground and that feeling you get when you go round and round?”

Peter’s eyes locked with yours as you focused your gaze on him with a momentary furrow of them, “Dizzy?”

Your fingers snapped and you pointed at him, “No, well, yes, but sort of.”

Loki looked you over reaching out to replace your hold on the door with his arm asking, “Do you need to lay down?”

“No, I’m good, just that next to last one, turning sideways, phew, just, wow that one tilted me.”

Peter asked after a glance at the slinky in his hands, “Where did you find him?”

You smirked, “I stole him,” his brow inched up, “I’m sorry, yes, at Yellowstone.”

That had him gasping, “The glowing gold lady,” You nodded, “Wow, how did I forget that?” Making his eyes sink a moment.

You swatted your hand in the air leaning more against Loki’s side answering as his arm settled behind your back in his pleased hold on you in your adorable near tipsy like stance, “Eh, it’s alright, didn’t happen before. Not sure, might have been that buffalo looking boy who saw you leave him on the bumper.”

Jack said, “We found the walrus on the shore.”

“Ooh, walrus are fun.”

Loki chuckled, “Let’s go show you around then, Dearest.” He said leading you a step away from your ship closing its doors to do its usual checks while for a moment Loki’s mind went fuzzy. And he stole a glance at you remembering his discussion when Steve had returned to Stark Tower after his own odd waking in Bruce’s path in New York on his own search for returning the stones. A golden pulse from the tesseract was all he glimpsed over his shoulder before a sudden pulse had him out cold then suddenly conscious in being hoisted over the Hulk’s shoulder. Smirking to himself at wonder for what this trip of yours had set off to have set him in your path for the second time. Secretly loving that hidden aspect of your relationship cementing his belief you were fated to belong together and the whole of the universes were working to ensure you would meet and meet again.

Pt 18

#Loki x Reader OC #Tale Teller’s 52 Week Writing Challenge

16 notes · View notes

multifandomjunkie3000 · 4 years

Text

I Told You So

Tony Stark x Fem!reader

Summary (In which she told him so and he didn't believe her)

Warnings : kinda sad, maybe some typos, some swearing

My first time writing so please don't hate on it

"WHY WON'T YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME," (Y/N) screamed. "WELL MAYBE BECAUSE WHAT YOU'RE SAYING IS INCORRECT," Tony spit back at her. That was enough to make (Y/N) shrink back from him. "Why can't you see she's using you, she has been since you started dating," (Y/N) begged for what felt like the billionth time. Tony let out an annoyed sigh, "Will you just let it go." She just stared at him, eyes hard, arms crossed, breathing heavily. "We've been best friends since dipers. I just don't want you getting hurt," (Y/N) mumbled. "Yeah, if you were really my best friend you would be happy for me, instead of being a jealous bitch." (Y/N) inhaled sharply upon hearing those words. Was that really what he thought of her. "Fine whatever don't come crying to me when your heart gets broken asshole," (Y/N) hissed at him, before unfolding her arms, walking out, and slamming the door to his room.

That was a week ago, ever since then (Y/N) had been avoiding him like the plage. Which didn't go unnoticed by the rest of the Avengers, who desperately wanted to know what had happened between the two.

"Come on (Y/N) just tell us what happened" Nat, Sam, Bucky, Steve and (Y/N) sat around the island in the kitchen. The four of them wanting to know what happened "Nothing happened" Those words made the red headed assassin let out a scoff, "As if we really believe that" (Y\N) let out another tired sigh, "We got into a fight" "And..." The boys pressed wanting to know what the fight was about. "... And nothing that's it" Natasha let out an exasperated sigh and left the room leaving (Y/N) with the boys. Who all shared a concerned look for the girl in front of them. When someone walked into the room.

Tony's POV

I left the lab and made my way to the kitchen for some fresh coffee. Upon entering I notice Bucky, Sam, and Steve looking towards (Y/N) I wonder what that's about "Goodmorning" I mummered catching the guys attention. "Morning" they spoke in unison. I look intently at (Y\N) who was staring down at her empty mug. Still not talking to me. I sighed looking away from her and grabbed my mug walk out of the kitchen towards my room. When I opened the door I was greeted by my lovely girlfriend Jessica. "Hey babe" "Hey love" I walked over pecking her lips l. I'm throwing a party later, so make sure to be ready. "Babeeeee I don't have a dress" Jess whined a pout on her lips. "Here take my card get yourself a nice dress" she squealed out a thank you before rushing to the bathroom. I shook my head with a small smile on my face as I made my way back to the lab.

(Y/N)'s POV

Tony entered the room, "Goodmorning" he mummered. Catching the guys attention "Morning" they spoke in Unison. Making me shake my head a little in amusement. As I stared down at my now empty mug. I could feel Tony's burning eyes on me, as if he was expecting me to greet him. I can't not after he hurt me with those rude words I thought to myself. Tony then sighed and left the room, coffee mug in hand. Soon after the guys left leaving me with my crude thoughts. Why can't he just see that she's using him for fame and money, I could treat him so much better, I would be a much better girlfriend. Wow you are a jealous bitch huh. You don't deserve him anyway he's to good for you. My thoughts spit venomously at me. I shook my head and went to my room to nap before Tony's party

Narrator's POV

Later that night another famous Stark party was in full swing. People drinking, dancing and having a good time. The Avengers excluding (Y/N) were crowded around the bar talking amongst themselves. (Y/N) who sat aways from the Avengers by herself wanting to keep her bad vibes to herself away from her friends. That was until someone sat next to her. Bucky looked down on his dear friend in concern wondering how to make her feel better. "What's wrong doll?" He asked her concern showing through his voice. "Not really in the mood to converse and dance Bucky" (Y/N) softly sighed. "I know what'll make you feel better" (Y/N) looked at him to see his hand out held out in front of her. Making her tilt her head in confusion. "Dance with me doll" and so she grabbed his hand while he lead her to the dance floor where she finally began to enjoy herself.

Across the way Tony watched the interaction, something bubbling in his chest as his best friend danced and laughed with Bucky. He turned his head quickly hoping no one had seen him staring. Instead he watched his girlfriend brag about him and the dress he bought her.

Tony's POV

Later after the party was finally over and I had finished talking to Steve I made my way to mine and Jessica's shared room. When I over heard Jessica's conversation. "Yeah he has no idea" "I know what kind of genius can't tell his girlfriend is using him" those words made me inhale sharply. (Y/N) had been right. Jessica had been using him. Enough is enough. I burst through the door scaring Jessica as she shrieked and dropped her for. "We're done" I glared at her. "Ba-babe-" Jessica started but I cut ger off "I don't wanna hear it leave NOW!" I growled. Jessica packed what she could and sprinted leaving me a crying mess on the floor.

I got up even though I knew that (Y/N) was mad at me but I needed my best friend, I needed her. I made my way to the elevator pushing the button to the floor with her room on it. As soon as I arrived at her door I knocked softly waiting, listening to the soft shuffling on the other side, until the door swung open to reveal her. My breath hitched in my throat as I looked her. She looked perfect, hair in a messy bun, make-up free face, and one of my ACDC shirts she had stole, she was beautiful. I wasted no time pulling her into a hug, god it had been too long. "Tony" her voice dripped in confusion. "You were right, Jessica was using me." My voice cracked as I remembered her words. Her eyes soften upon hearing this "I'm sorry bubs, but I do remember saying don't come crying to me when she breaks your heart" (Y/N) recalled her words from the fight a week ago. Hearing this made me feel even worse. How could I have said thise things to her. "Pleaseeee (Y/N), I'm sorry I should have listened to you. I need my best friend. I need you please."

(Y/N)'s POV

When I watched as Tony begged me to forgive him I couldn't say no. He looked like an abandoned puppy who needed some love. I pulled him into my room and to my bed, and held his as he cried. Until he had finally calmed down his breath evening out. "I love you" he whispered before falling into a deep sleep.

I shook my head softly as he pulled me closer. "I told you so" I whispered back before falling into sleep as well.

I hope you enjoyed it... Send requests and I might write some more if you guys like this

#tony stark #mcu #marvel #tony stark x reader #avengers x reader #avengers #avengers fanfiction #tony stank

1 note · View note

natashastark3000 · 5 years

Note

Can you do something like Tony being jealous of Clint, Bucky, Steve being close to Natasha??Possessive dominant behaviour??

Jealousy - Tony / Natasha

A / N: I’m not so happy with it. Sorry. I’ll do another, better, one later. Promised.

Pairing: Tony / Natasha

“I want red”, Natasha placed one of her remaining hand cards on the pile of cards that had already been created and looked at her fellow players in a challenging way. At the same time, they looked into their cards as she tried to read their faces.

They had decided to play a bit of UNO half an hour ago, as there were no missions to play at the moment anyway and they were slowly getting bored. Only Bruce worked in his lab and seemed to have something to do. And also Tony had retired to his workshop. Thor, on the other hand, had gone back to Asgard for a while to clarify something there. But he hadn’t told them exactly what it was all about.

So Natasha, Steve, Bucky, and Clint had decided to kill time differently. A UNO game was the only game they had been able to come across in the whole apartment. Clint was immediately on fire and convinced Natasha as well. But they had to explain the rule to the other two men after they realized that they had never heard of it before.

It was Clint’s turn after her to grin and lay a card that Bucky had abandoned, whereupon he threw evil looks at Clint: “Why always me? Clint shrugged his shoulders: "Because you’re sitting next to me.” “Natasha also sits next to you,” Bucky argued immediately and nodded in her direction. “But you’re the person who’s after me,” he continued.

“Boys, no quarrel”, she looked at both men with a warning look: “James has to sit out. That means, now it’s your turn, Steve.” She nodded in the direction of the blonde man who was still looking at his cards with a helpless look. Bucky bent slightly to the left, hoping to get a quick look at his cards. But Steve noticed this immediately: “Hey, Buck, keep your eyes on yourself!”

“What’s so hard? All you need is a red card,” Clint leaned slightly forward and looked at him questioningly. “Oh really,” Steve looked at him disgruntled: “But what should I do if I don’t have a red card? "Then you have to draw one,” Natasha explained to him, tapping on the concealed stack with one finger. Steve moaned disappointedly and took a sour look at a new one: “I think this game is stupid. She held a hand in front of her mouth to hide her broad grin from him.

So it went on for a few rounds. Bucky and Clint annoyed each other with their cards, Steve remained helpless and it turned out that Natasha was relatively good at it all and was closest to winning.

After some time, however, she heard footsteps on the floor and noticed Tony showing up in the hallway just at that moment, but heading straight for the open kitchen. Quite distracted by this, she just randomly discarded some cards and continued to follow Tony with her eyes.

He had been almost unseen all day and, to be honest, she had almost missed him a little after he stole out of bed early in the morning. There was something wrong with him, though. He had pressed the jaws together and she noticed how he was watching the situation between her and the other three men. When her looks met, there was something in his eyes that made her look questioning. For there was an expression she could almost call jealousy. "She looked apologetically at her friends and put the cards on the table before she got up and went into the kitchen.

"Hey,” she stepped behind him and put her arms around him from behind: “Do you ever let me see you up here?” He put away the coffee cup he had held in his hands but didn’t look at her. “Hey,” he murmured in a discontented tone: “You didn’t miss me.” “Of course I did,” she said almost reflexively and detached herself from him to go around the table. “Really? It seemed as if Clint, Bucky, and Steve had entertained you very well,” he crunched his jaws slightly.

She squinted her eyes slightly together and looked at him from head to toe. What did he mean by that? After a few seconds, however, it clicked in her head and she tilted her head slightly. “Tony, darling,” she grinned slightly as she sat down on the table: “Are you jealous?”

His eyes widened slightly: “Me? Jealous? Certainly not! Her eyebrows rose and her voice dripped with sarcasm as she said, "No, I’m sure not.” She let herself sink easily to his lap: “Then why does it bother you that I spend time with them?” “Because … "For a few seconds he seemed to be looking for a good excuse, but then he gave up and simply fell silent.

"Well, maybe a little,” he admitted and lowered his gaze: “You’re my girlfriend. You belong to me.” “And I will continue to do so”, she replied immediately and put her hand gently on his cheek so that he would look at him again: ‘But these are still my friends. They are also important to me. But that’s why I love you no less". He sighed: “Yes, I know. But can you assure me that none of them have feelings for you and see themselves as more than just a friend?

For a moment she thought, but then nodded: "No, I can’t do that for sure. But I can tell you that I have no other feeling for anyone than you. That’s why you don’t need to be jealous. I only want you!

He leaned his head against her breast and sucked in her smell: "I want you too.” She sighed contentedly. His jealousy was kind of sweet, but she didn’t want him to worry that there was anything between her and her friends.

“I want you, Nat,” he lifted his head again and a big grin could be seen on his lips: “Now. In my bedroom”. Necking, she rolled her eyes, but then grinned playfully. But before she could answer, he had already got up and had lifted her.

“Close the door this time,” Clint shouted after them as Tony walked through the hallway with her in her arms: “We don’t want to hear every single noise of you guys having sex again!”

#ironwidow #jealousy #jealous tony stark #tony x natasha #clint barton #natasha romanov #tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers #marvel #avengers

34 notes · View notes

avengrsoneshots · 6 years

Note

Peter gets hurt on a simple solo mission and he is in so much pain that he can't move or speak but he's still aware of everything going on around him and Tony comes to the rescue

Thank you for my first request!Word Count: 1,079Written in Peter’s POV

It all happened so quickly. The mission was supposed to be simple: find the guy, web him up, get the stolen stark industries technology. That was it. The guy wasn’t even supposed to be that big of a threat.

“The whole team is ready if you need help, we all have our comms on. The gun the man stole is dangerous but the man was dumb enough to be able to get tracked so I doubt he could figure out how to use it. Have Karen call me or someone if anything happens, okay Pete?.” Tony had said. I mean of course if things got bad enough then I’d get help but if the whole team was wasting their time on me just to see if I got hurt then I wasn’t gonna waste even more than necessary, I could deal with most things myself anyways.

One thing that I always loved was swinging between buildings at night. It was just peaceful, well as peaceful as New York could get at night. I made my way to an abandoned building where I could see a small blue light shining from the roof. The area was pretty barren other than the one building and a few empty parking lots.

“Spider-Man, arriving a little bit later than i expected, but better late than never.” The man said in a low voice. My spider senses sky rocketed as he turned around to face me. The Stark Industries gun kept humming a faint low sound.“So what’d the old man tell you? I’m dumb enough to get tracked, too dumb to operate this gun, that I’m not a threat, huh? Actually don’t answer that because I know the answer and I’m slightly offended. So now, Spider-Man, I’ll show you what this gun can really d-” I cut him off by shooting a web to cover his mouth. “Come on, man. You really are like a criminal from Scooby-Doo. Don’t explain your backstory, just get on with it.” I said with a smirk, not that he could see it through the mask. Jokes on me though because I left his hands completely free. He pointed the gun at me and it shot some force field or gravitational field that lifted me into the air. The force of the blast not only knocked him back but the already structurally unsound building shook. Which was not a good sign. I moved my arm from it’s floating place and shot a web, holding him firmly against a large piece of rubble.

“You know, this building is going to collapse and you will be known as Spider-Man, The Hero who killed an innocent man,” My heart dropped, “And when my finger leaves this trigger, you will plummet 70 feet to your death.” I could feel my heart beat in my throat. It was basically a lose-lose situation. I either let him go, which I was kinda incapable of doing, or we both died. I saw the building start to collapse, I made eye contact with the man. The image of his wide and crazy brown eyes was burned into my brain. I watched as he fell towards the ground but he never took his finger off the trigger and I realized what he was doing. If he waited to let go before the building fell completely I could have a chance of web slinging myself to land safer than just plummeting so he was waiting until the building was collapsed so I had nothing. I felt the force that was holding me suspended quickly vanish. I looked side to side to see if there was even a tree or something I could web to but there was nothing except the ground that was rapidly approaching. I twisted my body do that my back would take most of the blunt force“Karen call Tony!” I called

“Of course, Peter.” I heard the AI say into my ear. My body smacked the ground and there was searing hot pain the shot through my body for a good 2 seconds then everything went cold. My body was completely numb and vibrating and white cold all at the same time but I stayed awake.I heard 3 rings before the familiar voice came through, “Peter?” I couldn’t answer, “Peter, is everything okay?” I couldn’t respond, my voice didn’t work. “Karen run vitals.” Tony said into the speaker

“Heart beat is 117 bpm, Blood pressure is dropping, 4 broken ribs, Shattered left wrist, and restricted breathing. He is awake but unresponsive” Karen said. Wow, was it really that bad?“OK Pete I’m tracking your suit. Stay with me bud.” Tony stayed on the phone with me and told me stories about everyone. Like A story about how Clint was traveling through the air vents but got stuck so they had to pull him out and the time Steve freaked out when Tony got him a singing birthday card or the time at Halloween when Natasha turned out all the lights and blasted the Itsy Bitsy Spider in a minor key through all the intercoms. The company was good to have but i could hear the stress and worry come through Tony’s voice. When he finally got to my location I thought I would never be happier but he brought Steve and an entire medical squad with him because they were afraid that moving me too much would cause more damage than good so I would be treated right there on the ground of an empty parking lot.

Tony held my hand the entire time and he kept talking until I could finally speak.

“I feel like I was ran over.” I said, my voice hoarse.“You probably would’ve been better off getting ran over by a truck. We’re gonna add a new parachute to your suit, one that you can open at any time.” Tony said

“I’m sorry your gun got destroyed.” I said to Tony half expecting him to ground me.

“If it can cause this much damage, I don’t think it needs to be around.” Tony assured me

“Thank you.” I whispered “Kid, don’t even. We’re gonna have you start sparring more with Natasha and Bucky so you can be quicker to react in situations like this.” “Awe come on! They’ll destroy me worse than this, I literally had 2 seconds to think before I hit the ground it wasn’t my fault gravity is so quick, You’re lucky even called you!”

#peter parker whump #peter parker #irondad #spiderson #whump #avengers one shots #one shots #peter #avengers #avengers fanfiction #first prompt #DaneWritesWhump #DaneWritesAngst

169 notes · View notes

bitsandbobsandstuff · 6 years

Text

A Christmas Fairytale

Summary: All Bucky wanted was you and the snow. Missing the love of your life at Christmas is hard.

Characters: Bucky x Reader Warnings: Pretty much fluff. Little bit of sad, but then a bunch of happy

A/N: Holidays are hard sometimes, especially when you’re missing people or can’t make it home. So no matter what holiday you’re celebrating, or even if you’re not celebrating a damn thing and are just missing someone, this story is for anyone who’s wishing for a little miracle now and then.

MASTERLIST

I’ll be home for Christmas. You can count on me.

The fresh snow crunches under your boots as you wander slowly down the sidewalk, hands tucked deep in the pockets of Bucky’s blue peacoat. It was far too large, hanging nearly to your knees, and you had to push the sleeves up every time you needed your fingers, but it was soft and warm and smelled like his cologne. Dammit, you missed him.

It’s late this Christmas Eve, and the city is beginning to settle. The ever-present hum is still there, that persistent buzz found only in New York, combined with the mad dash of frantic shoppers, rushing for taxis and subways, last minute purchases shoved hastily in red plastic bags.

Lost in thought, you turn the familiar lyrics over in your mind. Home for Christmas. It’s the last plea of a desperate traveler, the perpetual wish on the tip of every soldier’s tongue.

Bucky’s been talking about Christmas for months, dreaming of spending it in the city, walking in the snow, seeing the windows at Macy’s, getting a picture with Santa. Little things in the grand scheme of life, but important to him. You know he’ll be disappointed. He promised you he’d come home, and now he’s breaking that promise.

It’s hard sometimes, to love a soldier.

So, you stroll the streets of New York searching for distractions, anything to keep your brain occupied, while your beating heart is somewhere far away, risking his life in a bid to keep the world safe. You can never fault him for it, his burning desire to set things right, to reset the scales he believes are eternally unbalanced against his past deeds; it’s something about him that you love unconditionally.

But it breaks your heart a little. All he wanted this year was to watch the snow fall over the city.

***

Bucky sighs as he pulls a bag from the depths of his closet. Sitting quietly on his bed, draped in one of his enormous old hoodies, you watch him fill the canvas carry-on.

“Do you know where you’re headed?”

He holds up the tactical gear with a rueful expression. A swirl of light colours in a desert camouflage pattern. “Nowhere with snow.”

Giving him an encouraging smile, you shake your head. “It’ll be quick Buck, over and done in no time.”

He’s carefully sliding knives into cases and slipping them into the pockets of his tac pants, and you see his shoulders give a disappointed shrug.

“Maybe. I wanted to be here for the first snow though. One thing that always made me feel like Christmas was close.”

Stuffing a lightweight beige jacket into the bag, he zips it shut and kicks it off to the side, before leaning down to where you sit, your arms wrapped around your knees. Placing his palms on either side of your hips, he ducks in for a kiss, lips brushing your cheek, before trailing to your mouth. Kicking your feet out, you press your heels into the back of his thighs and give a jerk, so he comes tumbling down on you with a laugh. He rubs his beard against your neck, and you can feel his smile.

“I’ll miss you,” he breathes into your skin.

“I’ll miss you,” you answer with a whisper. “I have something for you though.”

Reaching into your hoodie pocket, you pull out a small plastic object and offer it to him, a grin on your face.

Bucky pulls away and looks down, confused as he looks at the little plastic ball that houses a miniature New York City skyline. Then his face clears, and he huffs out a laugh.

“A snow globe?”

“Yep,” you tuck it into his hand. “Now you can make it snow no matter where you are.”

*****

There’s a clanging that catches your ear, a bell ringing through the clear night, and you come back to the present, noticing your location. Digging a handful of change from Bucky’s coat pocket, you drop it into the little red tin, the Salvation Army volunteer giving you a cheerful ‘Merry Christmas’ at the gesture.

Crowds are smaller on Christmas Eve, giving you a chance to see the Macy’s display windows up close in all their glory. The theme this year is ‘Christmas of the Past’, every window showcasing a display of Christmas mornings through the years.

There’s a lovely old West image, a family in a log cabin in the mountains, little red stockings hanging in front of a roughhewn mantle.

There’s a lavish, Victorian era parlour room, little girls in frilly dresses with new china dolls.

The scene from the 1970s makes you laugh, everything angular and geometric, colours in eyewatering shades of green and orange and brown, with so much shag carpet.

And there on the corner, a soft scene drawn straight from his memories, is a family on Christmas morning in the 1920s.

The details are exactly as Bucky has remembered it in his stories, and you raise a hand to the glass, wishing you could step into the display and find him. Out of all the memories that came back for him, you were relieved one in particular had made a re-appearance. His father bringing in the tree a couple days before Christmas. Draping silver strings of tinsel over the branches and hanging the glass ornaments his mother had collected over the years. His sister Becca digging into her stocking, finding sticks of rock candy and the smooth, bright orange wedged in the round toe.

Pulling out your phone, you snap a handful of photos of the scene; if Bucky can’t be here to see it himself, you can still save a bit of Christmas for when he finally comes home.

***

“Um, favourite Christmas you remember.”

Bucky groans dramatically. “Too hard. They were all good. Different question.”

“No,” you roll your eyes. “Come on. There had to be one that stands out.”

You’re lying in a tangle of arms and legs on the living room floor, bundled together in a colourful patchwork quilt. It’s still not cold enough to snow, but outside the leaden sky has opened, fat drops of cold rain splashing against the windows.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you curl into him, pulling him close. He rests his chin on the top of your head, his hands stroking lightly up and down your back as he thinks.

“Okay, I have something,” his chest vibrates against your ear, his voice low. “It was Christmas in 1931, two years after the market crashed in ’29. Whole country was sunk with the Depression, and we couldn’t afford anything. Hell, half the country couldn’t even afford to buy bread.” He sighs at this, pulls you tighter. “Anyway, there was no money for gifts, so I decided to try and shove my way into a poker game with a couple older guys down the block, who had a – a bit of a reputation.”

At this, you grumble. “Good god Bucky.”

He gives a little grunt when you poke him in the side. “Huh, same think my Ma said. Well, so Steve comes with me, and after a couple hands I was doing good, and then the guy pulls out this pair of kids roller skates. Guess he got ‘em from some factory or other – maybe he stole them, I didn’t ask – and he threw ‘em on the table. And that was it, I just had to have them for Becca, knew she’d love them. Had nothing to bet with though, until Steve decided to throw his Granddad’s pocket watch on the pile. They dealt the cards, and I’ll be god damned – I pulled a straight flush. Best hand I’ve ever taken in my entire life. Won the pot and high-tailed it out before they could think twice.”

He shifts again, hooks an ankle over your leg, tries to pull you even closer. “Christmas morning, I wrap them in an old shirt, and when she opens it, I swear I never seen a kid light up like that, she was so damn excited. It hadn’t snowed yet that year, so first chance we got, I took her outside and she strapped them on and I ran up and down the block, pulling her behind me.” Bucky chuckles at the memory. “She never actually learned how to use them. I was still pulling her around the block the next Christmas.”

He’s a vivid storyteller, and at his words, the images come easily. The thought of Bucky as a knobby-kneed, dark haired young boy doing everything in his power to make his little sister happy? It made your heart fit to burst, suddenly too big for your chest.

He’s such a good man.

There’s a quiet knock at the door, a voice calling for him. Real life intrudes again, breaking the spell. Burying your face against his chest, you give him a squeeze.

“Be careful Bucky. Finish this up, and you – you come home for Christmas, okay?”

Bucky stays silent as he holds you, before gently pulling away to look down, giving you a crooked smile, blue eyes unreadable. He runs his thumb over your lips, presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll come home for Christmas. I promise.”

*****

Several blocks later, you find yourself at the entrance to the holiday market in Central Park. It’s even later now, and the crowds have dispersed. Down a winding path, you can see Santa’s workshop nestled snug in the trees, a warm yellow light spilling from the windows into the lane. Bucky always joked about taking you to visit Santa, insisted there was no way you would get what you wanted, unless Santa knew.

Perhaps it’s too late, but you walk up the path anyway, to see if Santa can find time for one more Christmas wish.

Climbing up the steps of Santa’s little log cabin workshop, you raise your hand to knock, but the door opens before your knuckles touch the wood. The bright light washes over you, and there’s the man himself, Santa Claus, standing in the doorway. He towers above you, twinkling eyes looking down through the glasses settled on his nose, round cheeks rosy red from the cold.

“Well, what have we here!” his voice is so cheerfully animated, you can’t help but smile at the sound.

“Sorry Santa, guess I’m a little late.”

Santa simply laughs, shaking his head merrily, curly white beard dancing with the movement. “Young lady, it’s never too late. Now, you tell me that Christmas wish now, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I think my wish this year might be a little impossible.”

Eyes dropping to your boots, you blink rapidly, trying to stem the tears. Santa’s voice is kind when he responds.

“Now then, you listen to me. Christmas is a time for miracles. Don’t forget, anything is possible. You never know what’s right behind you.”

There’s a quiet sound, someone clearing their throat in the velvety darkness behind you.

“Merry Christmas Santa. Do you have anything in your workshop as beautiful as she is?”

The sound of that deep, rough, familiar voice slices through the frosty night air. Lifting your eyes to Santa’s face, you find him looking over your shoulder, a secretive smile behind that white beard.

Impossible.

Turning slowly, you find a man standing at the bottom of the steps. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a heavy black jacket, hands tucked into the pockets. Dark hair curls at the base of his neck, longer than you remember, and when he reaches to brush it back, you see his bright blue eyes sparkling happily. With a shout, you leap from the top step into his arms.

He catches you with a laugh, arms closing around you, spinning you in a dizzying circle, before setting you back on your feet, his warm lips finding yours. He tastes like cinnamon and chocolate and candy canes and Christmas.

“You,” you breathed, feeling the tears fill your eyes. You don’t try to blink them away this time. “I want you, I wish for you.” Gripping his jacket tight, you pull his face down, touching your cold nose to his.

“You got me, sweetheart.” Bucky grins at your excitement, his arms locked around you. “I promised I’d come home for Christmas. I wasn’t going to break that.” He drops a kiss on your nose, gently kisses your lips, once twice, three times, before he leans back. Tilting his head, he looks down in surprise at your outfit, and gives a quiet laugh. “I was looking everywhere for that jacket.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, a little embarrassed. “Been feeling sentimental.”

“That’s okay, I just needed something from the pocket.” Quirking an eyebrow, he reaches for the lapels of the jacket, his fingers catching a tiny button on the front pocket, and he twists it open, reaching three long fingers into the silky lining.

He pulls his hand back, tucking a tiny item into his fist, closing the fingers tight. Looking at him in confusion, you look down at his hand, and notice it’s shaking slightly.

“Buck?”

He takes a deep breath, glances up to the heavens. And he begins to laugh.

Thick white snowflakes appear seemingly out of nowhere, and suddenly the dark night is a swirl of white as they fall, soft and heavy.

Bucky looks back to you, sees the delicate flakes catch in your eyelashes as you meet his gaze, and he feels his heart jump. His voice is quiet when he speaks.

“Only thing I’ll ever want for Christmas is you.”

“Me too Bucky.” Placing a hand over his heart, you give him gentle smile.

He nods, watching you. When he unclasps his fingers, you look down.

Laying in his palm, is a diamond ring.

“Promise I’ll always do whatever it takes to make it home to you. Knowing you’re waiting for me? That’s all I’ll ever need. So sweetheart, I guess my Christmas wish is this - will you marry me?”

Bucky Barnes stands before you, hopeful and terrified, holding his breath as he waits for an answer he’s dreamed of hearing a thousand different times. The distant sound of midnight church bells breaks the silence, and there in the first, fresh moments of a new Christmas morning, you find your voice.

“Yes.”

*****

TAGS: @buckyappreciationsociety @4theluvofall @eve1978 @stentorian-lore-n @psingh97 @justreadingfics @ihavemymomentsstill @badassbaker @lovelynemesis @palaiasaurus64 @mrshopkirk @whiskeyandwashitape @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic

2K notes · View notes