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marvel-trash-bin · 3 years

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Taking Risks.

(Not my Gif.)

Summary: Zemo gives you what he thinks you deserve. *Some TFATWS Ep. 3 Spoilers.*

Pairing: Zemo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Smut for days baby. Dirty Talking, Possession, marking, Soft!Dom Zemo. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 4.2K

Tags: @greeneyedblondie44

A/N: Look we all know we're walking dangerous territory, simping for a war criminal. But Sugar Daddy Zemo got me feeling some type of way and also, Daniel Brüle is hot asf. Also, I don't actually know german so pls if it's off just blame google translate, I just have an insatiable language kink and I needed the pet names more than air itself. I thought about making this a chaptered fic, but I barely had the time to write this, never mind chapters of it before he likely fucks over Sam and Bucky next episode. Anyways, enjoy!

Here’s the thing.

You knew he was dangerous. You knew his past, the EKO Scorpion kill squad and everything with the Avengers, manipulating them and breaking them up from the inside. He was smart, unpredictable. You knew there was a very real potential that you could be hurt - or worse - if you went down the road.

And maybe, in a past life that would’ve been enough to stop you. But you weren’t who you used to be. You liked playing with fire now, inviting danger and chaos rather than straying from it. You had lived in - hid in, was more accurate - Madripoor for a handful of years now. You laid low, kept yourself under the radar of the Power Broker and those who worked for him. This way, no one bothered you and you could live fragments of a normal life, Trading and bartering to make a living. But living this way, like forgotten trash on a sidewalk, got old.

Maybe that’s why when you caught his attention, you didn’t shy away from it.

It had happened so fast. You were dancing, just intoxicated enough that the rubbing of strangers' bodies against yours was not just welcomed, but encouraged. So encouraged that when a new body, tall and firm behind you, took the place of another, you didn’t hesitate to back up into the warmth. His hands gripped your hips tightly, not stopping or guiding you, just resting. Turning your head slightly to see what your new dance partner looked like, you startled a little seeing the Baron.

Helmut chuckled, a low sound you felt rather than heard, and ducked his head down to speak into your ear, “You know who I am.”

You let your body relax back into his, feeling reckless enough to bless the menacing man with your flirtations, your head falling back onto his, “I’ve heard a thing or two.”

“And yet you trust me to hold you like this,” his hands flex on your hips, just hard enough to show the strength they hold, “Like a lover.”

You grab one of his hands, leading it down to your upper thigh where your knife holster sits, never once letting his hand leave your body.

“If I didn’t want you touching me, you’d know it, Baron.”

The gust of breath you felt against the side of your neck and the large hand gripping your thigh had shivers rolling pleasantly down your spine.

“You are far too beautiful to reside in these undergrounds,” he spun you around in his grasp, allowing you to get a good look at his face, “A woman like yourself should be treated with the most expensive riches, the finest wines. She should drain a man of his earnings.”

You laughed, not expecting the words that came from his mouth nor how handsome he was, even this close, “Point me to the man who’s willing.”

He smirked at you, but there was a smugness to it. A glimmer in his eye that suggested he had the riches and the desire to give you anything you wanted. You felt like you were drowning in his gaze, lost as you were under the heat of it. He looked somewhere behind you, pulling his eyes from you to nod once at whatever, or whoever, had stolen his attention from you. When they returned to you, the heat and desire were replaced with determination.

“It is with great regret that I must leave you, for now,” He captured your hand, bringing it up to his lips, the softness of them brushing lightly against your knuckles, “I can get you out of Madripoor, give you a life you deserve. If you meet me tomorrow morning, the airstrip.”

The world felt like it froze around you. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you. You couldn’t trust him. You Shouldn’t trust him. But as you stared into his eyes you saw nothing but honesty.

“And if I don’t?” You ask, just to buy yourself some time.

His hand travels up your arm, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger securely, “I will not pressure you. I’d leave you be, but the ghost of you would haunt me, schatzi.”

And with that, he was gone. Leaving you with nothing more than your thoughts, mentally preparing how quickly you could pack your things and leaving Madripoor behind. After all, you’ve always loved taking risks.

The next few weeks were a blur. Zemo was laying low, but his form of laying low was still luxury to you. It was private jets and upscale accommodations, not to mention that he was a man of his word. He spoiled you. Within three days of being in his presence, you had acquired a whole new wardrobe. Your suitcases - also new - were filled to the brim with the fanciest and latest fashion. You had rare jewels on nearly every piece of jewelry you owned. Maybe spoiled was an understatement. You’ve only dreamed of owning riches like these.

He had picked something particular for you to wear tonight, both of you making an appearance at some sort of party with some higher-ups. It was all laid out on the king-sized bed, a little black dress of sorts. It was short and sheer in its long sleeves, the sparkles in the fabric ensured that you would shimmer under any lighting. With a simple clutch, matching jewelry and a cropped, white fur jacket to keep you warm until you got to your destination. You looked good. You felt good.

He looked just as good. Sporting an outfit similar to the one you had met him in, instead choosing a dark red turtleneck to create a stunning relation between both your outfits. Nothing had happened between the two of you yet. Aside from lingering glances and innocent touches, he had been a gentleman. The chemistry was there, for sure. You were able to joke and talk with the man, matching his wit and charm every step of the way. And he loved it.

“Best behaviour tonight, schatzi.” He had said, low in your ear as you walked towards the venue.

You had smiled back at him, the perfect picture of innocence, “Always, Baron.”

And at the time, you had fully meant it. But you found yourself craving him. He looked too good, it honestly wasn’t fair. The way that ridiculous fur jacket draped over his shoulders, fostering a powerful ambience. And you knew he was faring no better himself if by the way his eyes were glued to your curves was anything to go by.

So, you decided, maybe you shouldn’t be on your best behaviour tonight. It’s not like you were making a scene or anything that would call too much attention. You were simply letting the alcohol take over your body. Whether that meant a hand on his thigh as you listened to the conversations around you, your fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck or dancing a little too scandalously when you knew he was watching. You felt confident. And when you felt confident, you felt dangerous.

By the end of the night, you were teasing yourself just as much as you were him. You were pushing your luck, hands trailing a little too close to the bulge in his slacks, enjoying the way his facial features changed briefly in shock before settling back into that infuriating unmovable stoic impression. The last straw was you bending in front of him, having ‘dropped’ something from your purse. You only had to bend so much before the dress, as short as it was, had ridden up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties.

In an instant, he had you standing upright, thanking whoever he had been talking to for a wonderful night, tugging your dress back down to a respectable length and steering you towards the door by the back of your neck.

“That was not best behaviour,” he growled into your ear.

You giggled, despite the tight grip on your neck, “I was just having fun.”

He had done nothing but stare at you, eyes hard with a warning that had you rethinking your actions. You had forgotten, for a moment, that this man was not just someone to give you all the pretty trinkets you wore. He was a mastermind, a criminal mastermind at that. A man most deemed dangerous enough to be locked away.

“You have been bad tonight, kleine Schlampe.” He said once he had gotten you back to his car, away from the prying eyes and ears of the party guests, “You will spend the trip back thinking of ways to make it up to me.”

The words sent heat through your core, and you did exactly as he said.

By the time he had gotten you up to your accommodations, you had thought of thousands of different scenarios that could earn you forgiveness for your recklessness. You were uncertain if his words earlier had implied sexual favours, or if a simple, genuine apology was all he was looking for. However, once he had turned to you, the room door closing behind him and his eyebrows raised expectantly, you fell to your knees in front of him like it was second nature.

He chuckles darkly at you as he peels his gloves off, tossing them gently onto a side table nearby before letting one hand brush away the hair that had fallen in your face.

“Seems you are meine kleine schlampe indeed,” You had no idea what it meant, but fuck it sounded good coming from him. His eyes were hard and dark as he stared down at you, “If this is the path you’ve chosen to apologize, so be it. But not here, you are meine schlampe not a common whore. Get up. Go to the bedroom.”

You did as he said, quickly pulling yourself up to a standing position and walking to the designated room. The bed, so far, had only been used by you. He hadn’t wanted to push or pressure you into sharing a space with him. He understood that just because you decided to join him, didn’t mean you wanted to be with him. But tonight, you had decided, you wanted to give him your everything. You wanted to show him how grateful you were for all the gifts he’d given you so far. And if you couldn’t give him luxuries, you would give him your desire.

“So,” he began, nodding in approval at the way you resume your position on the floor in front of him, “Let’s begin with the basics.” As he talked, he rolled up his sleeves, doing so with precision, “Tell me, what exactly are you apologizing for?”

He commands every drop of your attention. There’s an aura to him that you had only previously caught a glimpse of. His eyes dark and locked onto yours, never once wavering. Waiting. Calculating.

“For teasing you.”

“And?”

You take a breath, shame flooding your core at the answer that sits on your tongue.

“For embarrassing you.”

There’s a pause. He cocks his head, gaze softening just a tad. He's quiet for several moments, analyzing your words. Your heart starts to beat a little faster at the extended silence, thinking you’ve done something wrong and you can’t keep up the eye contact. You duck your head, averting your gaze to his feet.

“Look at me, schatzi.” His voice is soft, but still with enough edge to make you listen.

Only once your eyes meet his again does he continue.

“That’s very sweet of you, to be concerned about my image. But make no mistake,” He steps closer to you, letting one hand cup your jaw, tilting it upwards. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, “You could never embarrass me,”

You dip your head, nipping softly at his thumb. He smiles softly at you, something glimmering in his eye, “I simply just don’t like to share what’s mine.”

Your breath leaves your body at his words and suddenly the need for him to claim you had you nearly vibrating in your skin. You watch, every muscle in your body clenched tightly, as he walks slowly over to the armchair in the corner, never once taking his eyes off you. He sits, legs parted, one arm draped off the side, the other rested so he could prop his head up.

“Proceed.”

Instantly, you make your way over to him. Once in front of him, you stand up on your knees, placing your hands on his knees and slowly sliding them up his thighs. They continue its upward motion, skimming lighting over the hardness in his pants and reaching to start on his belt. You make quick work of his belt and buttons, eagerly working his pants and briefs down. He chuckles above you.

“Mein Schatz, so eager to apologize.” He purrs, almost mockingly, hand coming down to brush the fallen hair away from your face.

Once you had him free, you took a second to admire him. Your legs clenched at the size of him. Not terribly big, but big enough to anticipate the stretch, the fullness. Your eyes flicked back up, looking up at his through your lashes, leaning in but stopping just before you could actually get your mouth on him. The hand that was previously fixing your hair was now clenched in it, messing it up again and forcing your head back suddenly to look at him properly.

“It would not be wise to tease me more than you have,” he warned.

A smirk spread across your features and you quickly realized how much you liked him like this.

Powerful.

Strict.

However, you knew you were on thin ice already. With that in mind, as soon as his grip loosened you licked a wide stripe up his length, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him fully into your mouth. The tension his body held melted the second your tongue touched him. His mouth dropping on a soft groan. His hand stroked your hair as you sucked, encouraging the bobs of your head, not forcing but guiding. You keep your eyes trained on his face, not wanting to miss a second of experiencing him like this.

He glows in the low lamplight of the room, the shadows playing across his features delicately. You like him like this too. Reduced to a heap of gasps and moans beneath the heat of your mouth. As you suck, your hands wander, up under the fabric of his shirt, nails dragging down his sides. He hisses at the pain, but doesn’t tell you to stop.

After a few minutes of your slow torture, he decides he’s had enough. His hand tightens in your hair, his movements becoming less gentle and more demanding.

“That’s a good girl, take it all for me.”

You do as he asks, taking a breath before taking him as deep as you can. He groans at the feeling, hips shifting a few times to test you before beginning to thrust in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches, but his eyes are on you and his thumb is tracing your bottom lip that’s stretched wide around his cock and you think for a second that you could spend eternity like this.

It’s not much longer before he pulls you off his cock, hand wrapping around his base tightly, “Apologies, schatzi. I am out of practice, and I fear I'm not quite finished with you yet.”

You laugh softly, voice rough due to your previous activity, “That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You insist, more than happy to let him finish like this. Whatever he wants.

He stops you before you can dip down again, standing up and taking you with him. For the first time, his lips are on yours. He overwhelms all your senses. His breath loud in your ears, his hands on your waist, his scent. His tongue slides against yours as he walks you forward, shedding his lower clothing as he goes. He only parts to give you an order.

“Turn around.”

As you do, he finishes undressing and it kills you that can’t see him. Just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, it’s gone as you feel his hands at the top of your dress. He slides the zipper down, letting the fabric fall off your shoulders. You take the liberty of helping the sleeves the rest of the way down, the fabric falling down around your heels once you’ve done so. He hums behind you.

“Such beauty,” he whispers against your shoulder. His hands begin to wander, around your waist, up underneath the fabric of your bra, down to your thighs and ass. He chuckles, dragging your panties down enough that they too fall, forgotten at your feet, “I can hardly stay mad at you, liebling.”

Your head falls back onto his shoulders as he works your bra off next. You shiver, feeling bare and exposed before him. You want him more than you can express and you let your whole body fall back into his embrace, whimpering at the feeling of him, hard against the swell of your ass.

“Helmut,” you moan, one of your hands finding purchase in his hair as the other rests on one of his forearms.

“Tell me you’re mine, Schatzi. And I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I’m yours,” you say without hesitation, breathless as his hand dips between your legs, finding your clit. He hums, pleased at the arousal he finds there, “I’m yours. Only yours.”

He growls pulling his hand away from, “Lay back on the bed. I’ll be right back.”

You do as he says, positioning yourself in the middle of the bed. While you wait, you let your mind wander, listening to his rummaging somewhere in another room while your mind runs through everything you want him to do to you. At some point, your eyes must close because when you feel the bed dip, they open to see him crawling between your legs.

He’s done messing around, wasting no time before his face is buried between your thighs, hands maneuvering your legs so that they’re thrown over his shoulders, your heels crossing sweetly behind his head, no doubt scratching at his shoulders. Your breath leaves your body at the feeling of his tongue, warm and wet and fan-fucking-tastic. He alternates between dipping it in and out of your heat and flicking it against your clit. Your hand finds his hair, gripping it between your fingers and guiding his movements ever so slightly. His eyes don’t leave yours, spare for the few times he closes them to moan against you.

One of his hands move, leaving its place at your hip to sink two fingers into you. Your head falls back on a moan, back arching up when he crooks his fingers and finds your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you gasp, one hand gripping the pillow behind your head as you feel your orgasm rush towards you, “Fuck- Wait, I-”

You can’t even feel embarrassed about how easily your body has reacted to him. Before you can warn him much more, you're falling over the edge. Your thighs tensing around his head, back arching in pleasure as you ride out your high. In this moment you belong completely to him, unable to think of anything else.

“So sweet for me, liebling.” He comments, hands rubbing up and down your calves as you come down, taking a moment to unfasten your heels, letting the shoes drop to the floor before leaning back in. His lips brush against your inner thigh.

Then a bite.

“Such pretty sounds you make for me.”

And then he’s sucking harshly at the skin there, watching the shudder that rips through your sensitive body at the sensation. He doesn’t pull away until the mark is dark and flush against your skin. He continues this on the other thigh, on your ribs, your breasts and finally your neck, marking you thoroughly.

“Mine.” He growls, hot against your ear, “Mein schatz, will you let me have you?” he asks, and it’s literally all you can think about so you don’t even bother hiding the truth, the confession tumbling from your lips breathlessly.

“I’d let you do anything to me.”

He groans, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he does so. He pulls away to grab the condom that he had put next to him on the bed and leaning back on his haunches to roll it on. You’re so impatient, nails digging into his thighs and arms, whining as you watch his hands work.

“So needy,” He comments, swallowing your moan as he finally, finally, sinks into you.

The stretch as he enters you has your head rolling back on a moan, your legs wrapping around his waist the bring him the rest of the way in. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, growling against the skin there.

“Fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth, his resolve quickly slipping at the feeling of you around his cock. And to his credit, he really tries to wait, to be good. But not seconds later he’s adjusting his grip on your hips and he’s thrusting into you with a force that makes the whole bed shake.

It’s barely been 30 seconds, but the build-up that had occurred throughout the entirety of the night had you right back on the edge, your nails clawing at his shoulders, his back, his thighs. Any purchase you could get on him, you were begging for more. You’d take anything he gave you without so much as batting an eyelash. His grip on your hips is tight and bruising, but the pain twists into a delicious pleasure that only spurs you on.

You must be speaking, babbling something back to him about how good it feels, how much you love being fucked by him because he’s laughing through a moan against your neck. He pauses for just a second, straightening up and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before continuing to fuck you.

“That’s it Kätzchen.” He purrs, eyes moving down your body to where he enters your body, “Taking my cock so well.”

You mewl at the praise, your body arching in response to his words. Your second orgasm takes you both by surprise, having hit you like a fucking freight train when he thrusts particularly deep, hitting one of your sweet spots. You scramble for purchase on him, mouth dropped open in a near-pornographic moan that you’ll surely be embarrassed about later. But for now, all you know is pleasure.

His hips falter, stuttering as your walls tighten around him. His head falls back on a low moan, fucking you hard and slow through your release.

“Such a sweet cunt,” he gasps, “Mein Gott..”

And then he’s tangling your hands together, holding it high above your head as he pushes your thighs back, flush against your chest. He’s the one babbling now, words from God only knows what language, whispered against your skin as he chases his own release. He gives one last hard thrust and he’s done, his teeth dragging against the skin on your shoulder, moaning against you as he rides out his orgasm.

As you both come down, you stroke the back of his neck, playing with the hairs there, trying to catch your breath. After a few moments, he pulls away just enough to kiss you. There’s a lingering heat and it’s a little messy due to your shared exhaustion but it’s good.

Once you’ve both caught your breath, he removes himself from your body, taking the necessary time to deal with the condom. You watch him lazily, unable to do much other than that. You’re so tired. But there’s that ache between your legs that you love so much and you think briefly that you could go another round, if he wanted to.

He must see something in your eyes when he returns because he laughs softly, “I feel I may have my hands full with you, schatzi.” he says as he crawls back into the bed with you, covering the both of you with a blanket, the cold now biting at your skin. You know you have to get up soon enough to sort yourself out before bed, but for a moment you stay with him.

His fingers brush over your face softly, following the slope of your nose and the angle of your cheeks. There’s no real purpose to his movements, just... touching. As if convincing himself that you’re real.

“You are special, schatzi.” he says softly, “I don’t know what your plans are, but I can only hope that you choose to continue to bless me with your presence.”

This man is such an enigma to you. He carries such confidence in every aspect of his life and yet he still doubts your loyalties. There’s anxiety and pain hidden within him, you can see it in his eyes as he continues to look at you. You wonder, how much of his past weighs on his shoulders. How long before he deems himself worthy of your affection? You lean in to kiss him softly, your lips dragging slowly against him. When you pull away you keep him close, brushing your noses together.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

#helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #sugar daddy zemo #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #marvel #mcu #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #smut

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dameronology · 3 years

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you have my number {bucky barnes x reader}

summary: bucky barnes' memory is a little selective, thanks to all the brainwashing - but one thing he'll never forget is his love for you, even if you're a complete & utter pain in the ass. his ass. (based on deja vu by olivia rodigro)

^even tho this fic refers to bucky as having a new gf, the reader is still g.n :)

this is spoiler free! enjoyyy

- jazz xx

Your relationship with Bucky Barnes had been nothing short of a train wreck.

And frankly, that was putting it nicely.

It had been a short & passionate affair; intense and sweet and filled with so much emotion in such high concentrations that you'd both almost drowned in it. For every euphoric moment, there had been one so low that you'd scraped your knees on the ground. Climbing a ladder to heaven whilst simultaneously digging your own graves had taken its toll on you both, and eventually, you had no choice but to go your separate ways. It had been for your own sanity, really.

So there he was, tucked away in a neat little box in your brain, labelled don't touch, ever. Even when you were completely wasted, surrounded by your friends and their respective lovers, you never dared to venture back down that particular memory lane. Forgetting all the bad parts and selectively remembering the good parts was easy enough to do, but you had the common sense to remember why you'd broken up in the first place. Because Bucky Barnes, despite being easy on the eyes and having a charming sense of humour, was a pain in your fucking ass. He managed to press every one of your buttons without even trying and his ability to bring out the best in you was completely and entirely wiped out by his tendency to bring out the worst. That wasn't even getting started on his emotional hold-ups; a can of worms neither of you had dared to open until it became the very reason for your demise.

Six months had passed, and you'd managed to expertly avoid him. You worked different missions and Sam Wilson, god bless his sweet soul, went the extra mile to ensure your paths never crossed in a professional sense. On a personal level, however? That was a little more difficult. New York City felt a lot smaller after your break up. You found yourself occasionally ducking under your hood when you saw him on the F-train, or rushing to cross the road when you saw him coming towards you on the street.

That was when you had the whole city to lose yourself in; streets and shops and little food carts to distract yourself with should you need to. Being confined to the same room for a work party was a different story entirely, and one you didn't want to read. Yet, thanks to some insistence from your boss and a little grovelling from your colleagues, you found yourself rocking up to the former Avengers tower on a Friday night.

"So you do exist outside of your work uniform?" Sam Wilson greeted you with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah - nice to see you too, Wilson."

Despite your initial attempts to elbow him in the rips, he wrestled you off of him and pulled you into a tight hug. Sam was one of your favourite colleagues and oldest friends - he'd witnessed the rise and fall of your relationship with Bucky, and been there for you both during the break-up. That had been an exhausting few days, running between your respective apartments in an attempt to offer emotional support to you both.

"D'you want some champagne?" He asked.

"I'm good, but thank-"

You froze, eyes widening at the sight of James Barnes across the room. He looked quintessentially the same, bar for the fact his hair was a little longer and he had a fresh, pink scar under his left eye. Having ditched his usual attire for a black blazer, he looked good. Annoyingly so, in fact. It made you secretly grateful that you'd chosen to dress up a little more than usual too.

"- on second thoughts." You took the flute of champagne from Sam, also grabbing a shot of vodka from the same trey. It was gone in seconds.

"Need I ask?" Sam gave you a playful frown. His brown eyes followed your gaze over his shoulder, landing on the man you'd been staring at. "Ah. I need not."

"Sorry." You murmured. "We haven't actually spoken since, y'know."

"Since you had a break-up that made Ross and Rachel look good?"

"I don't think Bucky has ever seen Friends." You quipped.

"His loss." Sam shrugged. "You should talk to him."

"Nope." You snorted. "Absolutely not. I don't even know if he's moved on."

"Judging by the pretty blonde on his arm, I think he has," Sam replied. "Would you look at that! They're headed right for us."

That was a lot of information to process at once. You would have needed a week alone for your poor, tired brain to deal with the fact that Bucky had someone else on his arm, and a further three days to big yourself up enough to talk to him. Alas, that was not the case tonight. Instead, you had about five seconds between Sam finishing his sentence and your ex-boyfriend reaching you. It was just as well you found the energy within that timeframe to down your champagne.

You could see the woman on his arm clearer now. To give credit where credit was due, she stunning. She looked like the sort of girl who smelt of strawberries and Chanel, and grew her own vegetables on the fire escape. The kind of person you swore to be with every New Year that came, but quickly ditched after a week, returning to drinking coffee from the Starbucks under your apartment rather than going to the organic, vegan place a few blocks over. There was an ethereal glow about her and fuck. You were mad.

"Sam!" Bucky called out to his friend - for a minute, you thought he was ignoring you, before you realised he genuinely didn't recognise you. Your name rolled off his tongue with a tone of uncertainty, as though he was learning a new language and still learning how to pronounce things. "Wow. You look...different."

"So do you." You shot back. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Katie." He awkwardly smiled. "My...my girlfriend."

"It's nice to meet you." You forced an equally pained grin, taking her hand in a shake.

"How do you and Bucky know each other?" She asked.

"Work." Bucky quickly said. You thinned your eyes at him, almost in disbelief.

"So you're an Avenger like these two?" Katie asked, clearly not picking up on the tension. "That's so cool."

"Not in an official capacity." You replied. "But they'd be fucked without me."

The night only got longer from there, really.

There wasn't enough champagne in the world to help the void in your soul. It was a gaping wound that Bucky Barnes had both filled and widened - and tonight, he was doing the latter. It sounded as though him and Katie were having a grand ol' time of it. From the parts of the conversation that you'd actually bothered to listen to, you'd gathered that she'd arrived in New York from London just over three months ago. That meant she had a fucking accent. Of course she did. It made everything she said a thousand times more interesting.

"We were in Paris, in this little cafe. What was it called, babe? Maison de vie?"

"Maison de l'amour, doll." Bucky corrected her. It had only sounded right when he was calling you that.

Your eyes shot up from your drink, immediately staring daggers at them both. The slimy bastard. You had been the one to show him that place. You'd been in Paris for a mission, and after realising it was your four-month anniversary, you'd taken him there for pancakes. It had been a slow morning, filled with hazy eyes and pink skies, and it had ended with him dropping the L-bomb for the first time. The photo you'd taken of Bucky, sat beside a pile of pancakes the same size of him and with whipped cream on his chin, had been your phone background until the day you broke up.

"I've been there." You didn't break away from his gaze, holding cold blue eyes in a trance that he found to be almost suffocating.

"Oh, nice!" Katie beamed. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah." You sniffed. "The company was shit, though."

"Oh, man." She replied. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's not your fault." You gave her a sweet smile - to Bucky, it was a look of venom. "So, tell me more about your trip to Paris."

He quickly cleared his throat. "We didn't do much. Just a weekend getaway-"

"- are you forgetting that we saw Billy Joel?" Katie cut him off with a laugh. "The Billy Joel!"

"Right." It looked as though his mouth had gone completely dry.

"He told me he loved me for the first time to Uptown Girl-"

"-excuse me for a moment." You shoved your glass in her hand, before backing away from your little huddle.

Your brain was focused on getting away and only on getting away. The room suddenly felt a thousand times hotter, and a thousand times smaller too, as though the walls were closing in on you. Maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if they'd just collapsed around you and swallowed you fucking whole. Anything to get away from this situation.

Making a beeline for the balcony doors, you elbowed them open and stepped outside. The cold air of the rooftop gardens was a welcome contrast to the stuffy indoors, biting, night air hitting your face like an icy hug. The sounds of the city rung below you - sirens and yells and tourists - and tangled into the faint sound of the music, all parts of a world that your brain was working overtime to block out.

You focused on the city instead, using the bright lights of the surrounding buildings to anchor you to reality. None of it really even made sense - you were over Bucky. Had been for a long time. It was just the thought of him doing all the things that he'd done with you, with someone else. It made you feel a little bad for Katie, too.

"I was going to tell you about Billy Joel."

You glanced over your shoulder, giving a derivative snort. "Piss off, Bucky."

"I'm serious." He ignored your demand, cautiously approaching you.

"I brought you those tickets!" You turned around to face him. "We were meant to go together. Billy Joel was our thing."

"We broke up!' He reminded you. "Like I said, I was going to tell you that we went together-"

"- I don't care." You cut him off. "I genuinely don't care."

"That was a lot of storming off for someone who doesn't care."

"Okay, maybe I care a little bit." You huffed, taking a seat on a bench. "It's not even that you're with someone else, it's that you're doing all the things we did. The nicknames, the pancake place, the concert."

"I..." Bucky took a seat beside you, pondering for a moment.

"And declaring your love for someone to Uptown Girl is fucking weird." You muttered.

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

"Vienna, obviously."

"You're such a pain in the ass." Bucky replied. "But for what it's worth, I wasn't thinking of Katie in that moment."

You glanced up at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"D'you remember that morning when we were in New Orleans?" He asked. "And we had a few hours to kill before our flight, so you started dancing around the hotel room to Uptown Girl?"

"I remember." You softly smiled.

"That was when I realised I loved you." He admitted. "I was replaying that in my head at the concert, and it just kinda came out, and Katie heard."

"Damn." You muttered. "Sucks to be her, huh?"

"I like Katie." He said. "Truth be told, doll, I'm still stuck in the past a little bit. With you, and with what we had."

"We fucking hated each other by the end, Buck."

"I know, but I mean all the stuff before that." He explained. "You were the first person who saw me for who I am and not what I've done. The first person that actually made me feel loved and worthy."

"I do try."

He lightly elbowed you "I'm serious. I think I'm just projecting my longing for what we had onto my current relationship."

"You're being painfully honest tonight." You observed. "It's fucking weird."

"Who taught me to be painfully honest?"

"Right." You rolled your eyes. "So this is how Frankenstein felt when he created his monster."

"You're the worst," Bucky muttered. "I genuinely am sorry, though. I shouldn't be recycling our memories. I should make new ones.'

Dusting off your trousers, you stood up. "You're right."

"Thank you, though."

"For what?"

"For finding me first," He replied, "and for teaching me what love is."

"Well, if you ever need to be reminded? You have my number."

#why am i low key in love with katie?#i want a tall woman who smells of strawberries :(#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x gn!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers fluff #avengers angst #avengers imagines #avengers imagine #marvel imagines #marvel imagine

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cat-induced-fever-dream · 3 years

Text

Acquaintances

Pairing: Wanda x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Description: Wanda meets someone who doesn’t treat her like a villain, but she doesn’t know who you really are.

Notes: I promise it’s fluff and not a trap. Also sorry about my hiatus, I’m just super unmotivated to do anything. So here’s my feeble offering to try and get back into writing.

- - -

Wanda groaned at the sight of a man with a camera. All she wanted was to pop down to the shops, buy some paprika, but alas, even a shopping trip was gold for the paparazzi. Maybe if she hid behind an aisle he would leave. But she heard the door open behind her. Ducking quickly behind a stack of tuna cans, she scanned the rows for the precious package.

She knew she wasn’t the favourite of the public, and the guilt of what she’d done ate her alive every night, but she was sick of being blamed. All she did was try her best, but this was the kind of thanks she got.

She frowned a little when she saw the man round the corner. She steeled herself, not wanting the tears to spring to her eyes. Turning around to face him, she- There was a person talking to him. You had a shopping bag in your hand, so you must have been another customer. Dressed smartly with a blazer, but paired with jeans and sneakers, you looked friendly, but the cold look you gave the man said otherwise. You exchanged words quietly with the reporter, and he seemed to refuse you, turning back to look at her. Realising that this was the perfect stall to get out of the store, she resumed her search. Cumin, Ginger, Paprika! Quickly glancing back to see how long she had, she saw you hand the man a business card as he hurriedly shuffled away.

“Sorry about that,” you turned to her, looking genuinely apologetic.

“Why?” she asked, it coming out harsher than she meant for it to. “It wasn’t even your fault.”

You shrugged. “You don’t deserve it.”

Wanda frowned again at this. She didn’t even know you, but you helped her out, so the least she could do was be polite. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” you smiled. The two of you started to walk towards to counter. More like she did and you kind of happened to as well. “What are you cooking with the paprika?”

Sliding the bag to the cashier, she turned to face you properly. “I was making a traditional Sokovian dish.”

“I’m a big fan of trying different cuisines,” you replied, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “That sounds delicious.”

Wanda’s not really sure why you’re trying to make conversation, but you didn’t seem to have an agenda, so she indulged you with a response as the two of you walked out of the store. “It is, my mum always had the best recipe.”

“Ah well, my parents weren’t around much, so I can’t say the same,” you laughed, throwing your shopping in the back of what must have been your car.

Wanda hadn’t even realised she had walked with you to your car. That was embarrassing. “Well, it was nice to meet you, but I should be going now,” backing away as quickly as she could without making a fool of herself.

“Wait,” you called, “do you need a lift back?”

“You’re a stranger.”

“Well I know your name is Wanda,” you grinned cheekily, opening the passenger door. “And my name is Y/N. Guess we’re not strangers anymore. So, what do you say? It’s the least I could do, with that man bothering you.”

She’s not sure what compelled her to agree, but she found herself sitting in a plush leather seat as you adjusted the rear view mirror. Tapping the dashboard screen, you pulled up a map to Avengers Tower and backed out of the parking lot.

You didn’t seem to mind that she didn’t make conversation, bopping your head gently to whatever pop song was on the radio. Instead she spent the time trying to figure out who you were and why you were being so nice. “It’s rude to stare, you know?” you winked at her.

Wanda felt the heat rush to her cheeks. “Wha- No, sorry,” she mumbled. She’d done it again, made herself look dumb. You giggle, returning your eyes to the road. Trying not to stare at you this time, she observed the fancy watch adorning your wrist, and the sleek interior of the car. You must be a businesswoman of some sort, since this clearly wasn’t your average suburban car. But you were wearing jeans. Maybe a lower level employee than?

She sat there musing, until the door suddenly opened. “We’re here,” you smiled, gesturing at the grand tower that was now her home.

Why couldn’t she stop being so awkward? This was the third time. Unbuckling the seatbelt, she stumbled out, clutching the paprika to her chest. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime, Wanda.” And with a small wave, you hopped back into your car and drove off.

- - -

Heading straight to her room, Wanda abandoned her plans for paprikash. The whole interaction was quite frankly, baffling. No one was ever nice to her, except for the Avengers. But you clearly knew who she was, driving her back to the tower without an address. Tossing her jacket on her bed, she sighed. It’s not like she’d ever see you again. That’s when she noticed the card peeking out from the pocket. There was a phone number printed neatly on it, and a cursive scrawl underneath. “I am actually interested in the dish though. Could I have the name of it?”

She hadn’t exactly interacted with anyone else, so it must’ve been you. Running her thumb over the ink, she was hit with a renewed sense of energy. Grabbing the paprika, she dashed back down the stairs.

- - -

You’re spinning around in your office chair when your phone goes off. Clicking on the message, a small smile makes its way into your face.

Unknown Number: this is the dish i was talking about

Unknown Number: *image*

Unknown Number: it’s paprikash

- - -

“Hey Wanda,” Tony called, a carefully wrapped package in his arms, “this came for you.”

One look at the scarlet wrapping paper, and she knew who it was from. “Thanks Tony,” she said, grabbing it and running to her room.

Setting the package gently on her bed, she untied the ribbon and unfolded the wrapping paper. Nestled in the middle, a box of cookies.

She grinned to herself. Wanda’s been texting you for a couple of months now, and now she could really say that you’re not strangers. She knows that you can’t cook, but you can bake. You’re a businesswoman “of sorts” you say, and that you’re a pretty busy person. But regardless, you hang out with her, chilling in the local coffee shop, going shopping, even just a stroll around the park. She also knows that this happiness she gets when she sees you is definitely not platonic.

Opening the lid, the chocolate aroma wafts into her room. Her favourite of your baked goods. There’s a note tucked into the side of the box, and she delicately pulls it out. “Be my girlfriend?” she read, the handwriting obviously yours. Wait. Be my girlfriend? She sat there dumbly for a couple of seconds before it hit her. You’re asking her to be your girlfriend. Wanda scrambled for her phone, snapping a picture to send to you.

Y/N: those cookies look delicious, who sent them?

The witch rolled eyes at your antics, but played along.

Wanda: idk, but i just got asked out

Y/N: whoaaaa, did you say yes?

Wanda: yes you dumbass

Y/N: okay, under other circumstances that would’ve hurt, but i’m too excited to care right now <3

Wanda: ...

Wanda: did you try to bribe me with cookies?

Y/N: it worked, didn’t it?

Wanda: i can’t believe i actually like you

Y/N: honestly, me too

Y/N: sorry it’s a busy day, but you wanna come over for dinner?

Wanda: sounds good <3

Y/N: i’ll come pick you up, see you then girlfriend

She didn’t want bugs in her room, so Wanda grabbed the box to put in her kitchen cupboard. Balancing a cookie in her mouth, she was about to close the lid, when a hand pinched one. Eyes immediately glowing red, she locked onto Sam as he backed away, half eaten cookie and hands up in surrender.

“Do that again and I will give you nightmares.”

The Falcon whistled lowly. “Okay. Protective over cookies. Got it.”

“There’s cookies?” Bucky asked, strolling in.

“No.”

“Oh okay.”

- - -

The heroes were sprawled on the couches playing a game of UNO when Wanda came down the stairs.

“What are you doing with that hoodie?” Tony asked sharply.

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows. “This.. hoodie?” she replied, tugging on the drawstrings of the soft item of company clothing she was wearing.

“Yes! That’s my enemy’s!”

She didn’t really want to get into whatever nonsense the genius was spouting again. “My friend lent it to me.”

“You have friends?” joked Sam.

Steve gave the man a warning look. “It’s good that you’re adjusting to life here.”

“I think the important question here,” Natasha said from her spot, “is where are you going?”

“Dinner,” she replied, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. She tried to fight the silly smile that crept into her face whenever she thought about you, but she mustn’t have hid it well enough, since the red headed spy gave her a sickeningly sweet smile.

I hate you, she projected.

Nat winked back.

“Based on the way Miss Maximoff keeps anxiously glancing at the door, there is likely to be someone waiting for her,” Vision piped up. “I have searched the Internet databases, and from what I have gathered, your casual outfit means that you are going with someone you are familiar with. The sharing of clothes is usually reserved for close friends or romantic partners only.”

Of course the android had to get involved.

“Your heart rate seems to be speeding up Miss Maximoff. Are you okay?”

“Wanda Maximoff,” Tony asked slowly, “do you have a boyfriend?”

That’s when all hell broke loose.

“Who is he?”

“Is he hot?”

“Where did you meet?”

“How did you even get a boyfriend?”

“Can we meet him?”

“What-“

“Okay,” she groaned. Well it was bound to happen eventually. She just wished she could’ve gotten even a few months without the teasing. “I have a girlfriend, yes she’s hot, yes I’m going to have dinner with her, and I’ll ask about meeting. I’m going to go now.” With that, she stepped into the elevator.

“Don’t think this conversation is over witchy,” called Tony, as the doors slid shut.

- - -

“Hey,” you smiled as she slid into the car. “What took you so long?”

“The Avengers found out.”

You chuckled at that. “What, did they interrogate you or something?”

“Something like that.” She paused. “They want to meet you.”

“Are you sure?”

“They’re my family, and they’ll love you as much as I do.”

“Cute,” you grinned, “but I don’t know about Tony.”

“Trust me, they’re a mess a lot of the time, but they’re good people.”

You checked through your phone. “I haven’t got anything on around lunch tomorrow. I can come by then, how does that sound?”

“So you’ll come?”

“Anything for my girlfriend.”

- - -

Her green eyes locked onto you amongst the bustle of suits in the lobby.

“Hey.”

You adjusted the grey fabric of your pantsuit. “Hey yourself.”

“Did you wear the suit to impress me?” Wanda asked, delicately tugging on your tie.

“Actually, I’ve got a meeting with the investors later. Gotta make an impression, you know?”

“Well consider me impressed,” she whispered against your ear.

Blushing, you allowed Wanda to lead you to the elevator.

- - -

Clint wasn’t sure what to expect with you. But if Wanda liked you, you were sure to be one of the good sorts. So maybe like a cute girl she met at the cafe or something. He sure as hell wasn’t expecting the confident girl dressed in a suit to step out of the elevator.

All of them were lined up in the common room and he’s pretty sure any normal person would have been intimidated by the sheer amount of Avengers in front of them, but you stepped up to them absolutely unfazed.

“Mr Rogers,” you offered your hand to shake, “a pleasure to meet you.”

Steve was expecting to have to take the lead with introductions, but here you seemed to be handling yourself fine. “Likewise.”

“Is Mr Stark here today?” you asked him.

“He’s a bit busy at the mo-“

Clattering and a string of curses interrupted him. And of course, the man himself stepped into the room, Iron Man debris in his wake.

“Tony,” Steve scolded.

“What? Did you think I’d miss meeting the girl who stole the heart of our cold antisocial emo?”

Wanda tossed a couch pillow at him, but he brushed it off.

“Tony Stark,” he declared.

You shook his hand politely. “I know who you are Mr Stark.”

“And you are...?”

“Y/N L/N.”

The genius might have been singed from his armour, but the moment that name fell from your lips, he yanked his hand away, as if he was burned.

“L/N. As in L/N Corporations?”

“That’s me.”

Abruptly he turned to Wanda. “Do you know who this is?” he hissed. “The greatest rival to Stark Industries. I thought you were introducing your girlfriend.”

You gave him a winning smile. “I am her girlfriend Mr Stark. And you may have made me your rival, but I can assure you that you are not mine.”

Sam snorted.

“What are you doing here then? Are you here to try and steal data? You can’t...”

You paid him no mind as you winked at Sam. Spotting the metal arm, your eyes widened. “You must be Bucky, right? Princess Shuri told me she’d been working on some vibranium projects. I’d love to take a closer look some other day if you don’t mind?”

“How do you know Shuri?” Stark spluttered.

“You think that she only talks to rich boys who need her help? Sorry to burst your bubble.”

Nat couldn’t help but smirk at this.

“Oh and I’ve actually been working on some prototype Widow Bites as a bit of a free time project,” you added. “If you’re interested, your opinion on usage would really help me to refine them.”

“Of course.”

“Traitor,” Tony glared.

It’s at this point your phone began to ring. Glancing down, you offered a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve really got to take this.” You turned to face the wall as your friendly tone turned professional.

The Avengers huddled together as your call went on.

“Is she using you for information?” Tony scowled.

Wanda scowled back. “She’s my girlfriend Stark. Not everything is about you.”

He looked as if he was going to say more, but Steve interrupted.

“Look Tony, she seemed like a perfectly lovely girl.”

“Yeah I like her,” added Sam. “She can keep your ego in check.”

“If Wanda likes her, I’m fine with it too.” Clint said.

Wanda gave him a thankful look.

A cough came awkwardly behind them.

“I really hate to cut this short everyone, but something’s come up back at the office. Investors are a pain.”

“Yeah go on back to your investors then,” spat Tony.

“Wow” you drawled, heading back to the elevator, “is the rich card the only thing you can play Stark?”

The light on the wall indicated that the cab had arrived, and you stepped inside the carriage which would take you back down, as Peter stepped out.

“Oh hey Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I was just leaving Pete, but swing by later, alright?”

“You know it.”

“Oh and I heard you liked the hoodie I gave Wanda, Mr Stark,” you called. “I can grab you one as well, since it’s my company. But I really do gotta run now. Nice to meet you all!” The metal doors slid shut on your grinning face.

There was a silence, before Tony turned on his protégée. “How the hell are you on a first name business with her?”

“We’re friends?” Peter offered.

“Friends?”

“She went to college with me. She was super smart and we hung out and stuff. You know, what friends usually do.”

Squirming under his mentor’s gaze, he continued. “She was too smart for college though, so she dropped out and started her company. It didn’t mean we stopped being friends though.”

“Why didn’t you tell me Underoos?”

“She figured you might overreact, especially with the web sho-“ The boy’s eyes widened, and he made a mad dash for the stairs.

But Tony grabbed his wrist. “What were you saying?”

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair anxiously. “She helped me out with my web shooters in college, and since then, she’s been developing them with me.”

“What?”

“She knows I’m Spider-Man and I work with her on my tech,” he said slowly.

The man surveyed his teammates, making deliberate eye contact with each and every one of them. “Traitors, the lot of you,” he huffed.

“I mean you gotta admit it,” laughed Sam. “She’s college age, and built an empire to rival you. Not to mention that she’s pretty, smart, has better PR and actual time management skills-“

“Okay I get it,” the genius cut him off.

“Don’t be upset,” Clint smirked, “you can’t lose if you’re not her competition.”

Tony stomped off.

“Don’t worry about him, he’ll come around,” Steve said gently, nodding at Wanda who was fiddling anxiously with her rings.

“She was cool,” added Nat. “Tony can be a pain in the ass, but he knows she’s a good person.”

Her phone buzzed in her hand.

<3: i’d say that went pretty well

Wanda: cannot believe you didn’t tell me

<3: i’m really sorry babe, please don’t hate me

Wanda: i could never

<3: just didn’t want him to stop you from fraternising with the enemy or whatever

Wanda: i’d break the rules for you any day

<3: how romantic

<3: so miss rebel, you coming over tonight?

Wanda: depends if you’re still wearing the suit

<3: anything for you ;)

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda marvel #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch #marvel #mcu

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rivers-rambles21 · 3 years

Text

The one with the road trip

Part 15 of The one where Bucky has a cute neigbour series!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (f)

Warnings | 18+ only - no smut but mentions of it

Apologies for any mistakes, this has been written on my phone and its a bit difficult to edit. Once I’m back with a working laptop I’ll give it a once over :)

Bucky had intended on renting a bike so you could ride down to Louisiana but with Sam’s suit it would’ve been an impossible feat.

He settled for hiring an SUV and added you both to the insurance so you could take it in turns driving on the long trip down south.

“Been together one day and we’re already on our first trip” You teased as you rested your feet on the dash, taking in the scenery as Bucky drove. His metal hand gripped the steering wheel as he peaked a glance over to your bare legs, resisting the urge to pull over.

“You’re the one having a mid life crisis doll not me” You feigned offense and swatted the soldier beside you, pleased to get a hit in as he tried to dodge your attack. His eyes remained on the road as he grasped your hand in his. “Less of that thank you” He laughed, bringing your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the back before giving it back to rest on your thigh, his hand not leaving yours.

“Looking forward to seeing Sam again?” He didn’t respond but his face said it all. “You’re so dramatic” You chuckled as you leant down to root around in your bag for the road trip snacks. Retrieving a bag of cashews, you offered it to Bucky who gladly took a handful.

“I just know he’s going to ask a billion questions about stuff we’ve not even discussed yet, that we’re probably not even ready to talk about. He didn’t stop asking about you y’know? Y/n this, Y/n that…he kept threatening to ask you out.”

“Oh he did”

The car swerved slightly as Bucky's grip on the wheel tightened, his concentration lapsing for a split second.

“He did what?” He asked, tearing his eyes from the road to glance over at you.

“It was just a bit of harmless flirting-” You began before being cut off.

“We flirted.” Bucky stated, his jaw clenching.

“We also did a lot of things just friends don’t do. Relax Sarge, he only asked to get a reaction out of me.”

Bucky grunted in response, knowing his reaction was a tad over the top but he couldn’t help it. You were his.

“We could always mess with him in return.” You pondered as you took a swig of your drink. “Maybe hold off on telling him about us, it’s only meant to be a flying visit anyway isn’t it? So we wouldn’t have to pretend for long… play him at his own game?”

Bucky smirked in response, completely on board with your little plan.

The next few hours passed with the typical car games and a quick power nap as Bucky continued driving.

“How long until you start at Starks?”

“A month thank god, the GRC wanted me gone pretty quickly, I didn't have to work my notice which was a blessing really. I’ll schedule a day to go and clear out my desk and say my goodbyes. Will you still get your pension if we live out of the country?”

“I’m not sure to be honest, I can pick up work wherever we are though, it wouldn’t be the first time. I’m good with my hands”

“You’re telling me” You muttered under your breath. Bucky heard you loud and clear and let out a laugh as he recalled how you spent most of last night. “Are we crazy? Travelling with no plan, barely any money and only just starting out as a couple?”

“Oh absolutely”

Eventually Bucky took a break from driving after you stopped for food in a roadside diner. It had been a while since you’d driven but you wanted to give Bucky the chance to get some sleep, something you knew he still struggled with.

Despite telling him to try and get some sleep on the back seats, he remained upfront with you, doing his best to battle the drowsiness that had overcome him. He’d not gotten much rest the past few weeks, from battling the Flag Smashers in Europe, to hunting down Zemo and then back to New York. In truth he was worried he’d have a nightmare and wasn’t sure on how he’d react but upon your insistence, he tried to get some shut eye. After an hour or so he dropped off, the sound of you humming along to a song on the radio sending him off into a dreamless sleep.

Bucky couldn’t quite believe it, he couldn’t remember the last time he slept without being haunted by memories of the Winter Soldier. Granted, he only got four hours of sleep , but it was the best he’d felt in a long time.

When it came to your turn to get some shut eye Bucky insisted on stopping over in a hotel for the night. You’d tried to convince him a motel would suffice after you lost the battle of you sleeping in the car but he was victorious.

To be frank, after spending so many hours in the car, you were grateful to be sleeping in a bed with your super soldier by your side.

As you slept, Bucky took the time to fire off a few emails advising he’d be ending his lease. Having slept earlier, he felt energised and was content in browsing the internet as you slept tucked into his arm.

He did his best not to wake you as he opened a selfie from Shuri of her with Ayo and Nomble, a chuckle escaping his lips as Shuri and Nomble looked to be thoroughly enjoying themselves on a boat trip in New York whilst Ayo sulked in the background.

He also replied to an email from his therapist's office, letting them know he’d be absent from his next session but planned on returning the following week.

Bucky was tempted to let Sam know he was coming but thought it best to surprise him.

The next day was much of the same, both of you switching the drive and stopping off at diners for food. Due to the lack of respect Bucky had for the speed limit, you were making good time and would be in Delacroix the following morning.

“-it was like I didn’t exist. Honestly it was the most humbling experience of my life”

“Sergeant Barnes in his uniform… now that is something I’ve got to see.”

“Maybe one day”

Your eyebrow perked at the thought. “Good god man” You groaned dramatically and sank further into your seat, giggling as you caught sight of the blush covering his cheeks. “For what it’s worth, lack of nutrients from the rationing clearly messed with her eyesight.” You were genuinely baffled how Peggy didn’t swoon for the man next to you.

“Where were you in the 40’s when I needed you huh?”

“I doubt I’d have been your type”

“Intelligent, strong woman with a great sense of humor? And thats not even mentioning your ass.. Oh no, definitely not my type” He replied sarcastically.

“Ha ha fine, I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’d have taken you dancing, maybe gone to a show or even the carnival. Anything you wanted.” He took your hand in his again and kissed the back of it as he pondered just how he’d of won you over back then. He usually didn't like to dwell on life before the war, the pain of losing his family and the future he lost was too much but having you in his life somehow made the memories hurt less. Having you with him now along with the future he could picture with you helped him make peace with his past life and accept that it wasn’t something he could ever go back to.

When Steve was returning the stones, he did wonder whether he should go back with him but the realisation that there wasn’t anything waiting for him apart from a time that he didn't belong to made his decision to remain in the present resolute. And by god was he thankful he stayed.

On your way to your final hotel before arriving at Sams, you’d taken over the driving and had kept Bucky entertained with your off key singing and terrible car games.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” As it turns out, Bucky was a sore loser.

“What? It counts!!”

“You cannot see bacteria Y/N”

“Yes I can! It’s right...right… right there!” You pointed to a random bit of the car interior and held back a laugh at a clearly unamused Bucky.

“You’re so full of shit”

“How do you know I can’t see it huh? Guess it’s my turn again, I spy with my little -”

“No” He cut off as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Absolutely not. I’m going to choose a game.”

You let out a little smile and continued focusing on the road until the super soldier landed on something he liked.

“Okay okay, would you rather sounds fun. Doll, would you rather have the superpower of being invisible or ability to fly.”

“Aw come on Buck these are tame! If I have to answer, without a doubt invisibility.”

“Not dirty enough for you sweetheart?” A tingle rang down your spine at your new nickname. “I’d have to agree, invisibility easily.”

“Buck you’re an actual superhero, you’ve already got powers, leave some for us mere mortals!”

“... you think I’m a superhero?”

“....you’re literally an Avenger.” You reached across towards the man beside you, keeping your eyes on the road as you pressed your hand against his forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

Bucky rolled his eyes at your sarcasm and swatted your hand away from his head. “Fine you made your point.”

You shook your head as you returned your hand to the steering wheel, tapping away to the song on the radio.

“The rest of these questions are boring” He muttered as he furiously scrolled through his cell.

“C’mon, go R rated”

“It’s no fun when I already know the answers to these!”

“Pfft doubtful, come on, hit me”

“Spit or swallow, you’re a swallower doll.See?”

“Okay okay! You’re right, I give in. How about we just ask each other some questions?”

“But you already know everything,” He remarked, throwing a few cashews into his mouth.

“When did you first see me as someone other than a friend?” You’d thrown him off guard with that question, his hand stuck in mid air as he went to throw more snacks into his mouth.

“Wouldn't you rather know my most embarrassing sexual encounters?” He offered but was met with silence. “Fine……. I’ve never seen you as just a friend. Yes we were friends before we became more and honestly Y/n if it never progressed further than just friendship I would’ve been fine with it, more than fine with it y’know? Meeting you was the best fucking thing-” “Buck, it’s okay” Your hand reached out towards him and squeezed his thigh as you kept your eyes on the road.

“There’s more… before we officially met in the lobby when that creep wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, I’d seen you around. I was coming back from lunch with Yori and he was complaining about having gone for burgers instead of our usual and there you were, headphones in completely oblivious to the world and searching for your keys in your purse as usual. You were just so carefree - everything I wanted to be. And then a couple of days later we met and I was a goner.”

You bit your lip as you fought back a smile, overwhelmed by his honesty. It was a welcome feeling, knowing you weren’t the only one that felt an attraction almost immediately.

“I’d seen you around too, before we officially met I mean. It’s kind of hard to miss you” You chuckled as you snuck a glimpse over at him and found him doing his usual glare. “It was pretty early on for me as well, do you remember when we went for coffee?”

“And you ordered us two cups of sugar? Yeah I remember”

“Mocha Latte’s aren’t bad for you… they just give you a bit of a buzz”

“Especially if you order extra cream…”

“Anyway! I’ve always been attracted to you, I’m not blind y’know but after seeing this dark looming strong man consume a drink like that, and have some residue cream left on his lower lip mind you, I just knew that it was more than just a crush. There’s something oddly charming and attractive about seeing someone so intimidating be so soft. It’s like I’m the only one who gets to see that side of you and I love it”

Bucky didn't quite know what to say, he was slightly flustered at the compliments you were throwing at him and by the knowledge that you’d been interested far earlier than he had ever dreamed of.

“We’re idiots aren’t we? For not realising sooner.”

“Oh without a doubt”

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navegandoaciegas · 4 years

Text

Sunshine Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: fluff, soft!Bucky, mentions of injury (no graphic descriptions), 3.6k words

Summary: You are the sun and he’s simply basking in your light. And he’s so selfish, he thinks as he holds the velvet box with the diamond ring inside of it, he’s so damn selfish he wants to keep the light all to himself for the rest of his life.

Two years ago you were supposed to enjoy a solo road trip after years of Avenging, but Bucky invited himself along. Now you’re forced back to New York, and your boyfriend is ready to surprise you once again.

A/N: Bucky’s POV. Sequel to I love my baby to death, but I suppose you could read it on its own. As always forgive any mistakes, English is my third language.

Had to repost this cause it didn’t show up in the tags, hopefully this time it will

“I swear Buck, if I see one more damn corn plant I’m losing it. I am this close” you say pinching your thumb and pointer finger real close “to a mental breakdown. I’m never eating corn again, mark my words. No corn flakes, no corn on the cobble, no nothing. I’m done.”

“We’re in Iowa, in the middle of the corn belt, I don’t know what you were expecting.” he replies, slightly amused by your little outburst and sour mood.

“Well, clearly not ending up on the set of Children of the corn.” you groan, getting back to sulking in the passenger’s seat, seething at the fields that are only a scapegoat to the real problem.

You’d been merrily skiing in Montana when his skis got somehow tangled with yours and he tumbled down on you, dragging you down the slope. Hadn’t you injured yourself, rolling in the snow like it only ever happens in cartoons would have been pretty comical.

“What?” you screech, almost jumping off the stretcher and grimacing in pain when your left foot hits the metal poles at the side. “No. It’s just pain, I’m sure it will go away, right? I mean I was an Avenger, I’ve suffered worse than a fall.”

“I’m sorry, miss, but knee surgery will be necessary, the MRI here shows you’ve torn your ACL and from the looks of it, your left knee was already damaged badly, numerous times at that, probably a result of your time on the field.”

“I can’t, I can’t just get surgery, we’re miles away from home and I-”

You’re almost sobbing and Bucky feels like shit because he’s the reason for all this and all he can do now is pat your back reassuringly.

“Given the extent of the damage, I’m afraid there’s no other option.”

“How long is the recovery time?” he asks, voice unsure.

“Well, it’s my knowledge she’s not an enhanced individual, so like any average human it will take anywhere from 6 to 9 months to recover fully. In the meantime, no more hikes or sports.”

Bucky inhales a sharp breath. Six to nine months. No more hikes. Surely you’ll have to go back to New York.

God, you are so going to break up with him.

Turns out you didn’t dump him in Montana, you didn’t abandon him in one of those auto stops along Interstate 90 in South Dakota, and you don’t seem to want to break up with him amidst the green fields of Iowa, but still, he knows he will drive through Illinois, Indiana, Ohio and Pennsylvania anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It almost seems like a cruel twist of fate, driving the same route you did as friends two years ago, along Interstate 80 headed East instead of West, only this time he’s not hoping to be more than the annoying old man who invited himself on your trip; he’s your boyfriend now, but maybe not for long.

“You know, you really are dramatic.” you say in a teasing tone, “I’m not going to break up with you, stop thinking about that, it was an accident, ‘s not like you beat me.”

“I know, I’m just sorry because you’re in pain and it’s my fault and now we have to get back home but I know you wanted to stay more and I did too and if I didn’t-” he’s rambling, and your place your hand on his thigh and squeeze reassuringly, offering him one of those sweet smiles he dies for.

“Buck, it’s okay” you interrupt his word vomit “like I said a million times before, it was an accident, it’s going to be fine I promise. I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise with my mood, I swear I’m just pissed at all this damn corn. We’re never going to a maze again, by the way.” That gets a laugh out of him, and he loves you even more because you’re always there to lift his spirits. “I’m dreading these next months, the surgery, physiotherapy and all, but I know you’re there for me, yes?”

He nods, teary eyed, and you continue, “And I can’t lie, it’s been a while, I’m kind of excited to see everyone again, I mean except for Sam of course,” you say, as if he didn’t “live rent free in your head”, like Sam himself put it, “Jesus that man, how many of our trips has he invited himself on? I’ve lost count. ‘Member when we found him waiting for us in Phoenix? Fuckin’ weirdo.”

You both chuckle at the memory of Sam in your motel room, waiting on your bed with crossed arms like a disappointed parent, pissed off because you hadn’t called in a week and he was worried sick that something may have happened to you, a deadly sniper, and him, the Winter fuckin’ Soldier. Truth is, Bucky was so excited about your new relationship that he rarely let you leave the bed when you were in your room, and when you did you were in no condition to Facetime anyone, with your smudged mascara and swollen lips.

“I’ve heard Clint will come visit us with Laura and the kids. Nathaniel must be so big now.” you add, your eyes glazed over as you think of the little boy who was named after your Natasha.

“God, Morgan is probably all grown up.” he muses, a tinge of sadness in his voice. You squeeze his thigh again. “And the spider kid too, he’s a grown man now.”

“That he is.” you chuckle, “But to me he’ll always be the boy in the red spanx who knocked us on our asses in Berlin.”

He smiles and shakes his head at the memory, and you both fall in a comfortable silence. Now that he’s not consumed by fear anymore, Bucky kind of agrees with you that all this green is, in fact, nauseating.

“You know what, no more popcorn either.”

“Deal.”

A year and something ago

Arizona

“Can you believe there’s a city in New Mexico called Truth or Consequences? We should totally go and visit just for the hell of it, sounds like the type of place Steve Rogers should have been born into.” you state with all the seriousness in the world, and he snorts because after all this time you still haven’t found it in yourself to stop mocking Steve’s righteousness.

You’re walking ahead of him and he’s so distracted by your tiny denim shorts that he, the master of stealth, almost trips over a boulder. You’re always pretty but tonight, illuminated by the orange sky of Arizona, you look like a dream. And you’re so happy, snapping photos at everything you see, that even if Bucky hates the desert and the heat makes him uncomfortable, he won’t tell you, because the look on your face makes it all worth it.

“Baby, look at this big boy here, he’s like 20 feet tall. Oh my god, he’s so cute and beefy, just like you.” you gush at one of the giant cactuses of Saguaro National Park.

He raises his eyebrows skeptically.

All he sees are green spiky motherfuckers that he’s accidentally hurt himself with more times that he’d like to admit in all those damn ‘hikes’ you like so much, but to you cactuses are the most beautiful sight in the word. He genuinely does not see the appeal, but he understands now how you feel when he talks about all his ‘nerd shit’, as you call it.

“I’m cuter.” he says frowning.

“Of course you are.”

For some reason you don’t sound convincing at all.

It’s only spring but here in Tucson the temperature is 85 degrees today and he’s sweating buckets underneath the long sleeved t-shirt he’s wearing to conceal his vibranium arm. He’s long past the time when he was forced to hide from authorities or the general public’s judgement, but still he doesn’t want to be recognized and attract attention. He doesn’t do well with crowds, and he doesn’t understand how you can be so calm and collected when people stare at you and ask for photographs while you’re minding your own business.

As soon as you get back to the motel you’re staying at he takes off his soaked shirt, not caring that the air conditioning is probably going to end his old ass.

“What the hell happened to you?” you ask, scowling as you analyze the skin around his prosthetic.

He shrugs. “It happens sometimes.”

“Why?”

“No idea.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ lie to me James.”

You only call him that when he’s in big trouble. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose: why do you have to be so damn stubborn all the damn time? “It’s nothing sweetheart, just sometimes the skin becomes flared when it’s too hot.”

“Nothing?” you shrill, throwing your hands around animatedly, “Nothing? Bucky your whole shoulder is super red and irritated, don’t act like it’s normal. We’ve been in the sun for hours, for days really, why didn’t you tell me anything? I would have driven us back here immediately. Does it hurt?”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you, I didn’t want to ruin your fun, you liked it so much there. And no, it only itches a little.”

Your eyes soften and you move to cup his face in your hands, looking at him with so much love that he feels himself melt away into a puddle, “Baby you don’t need to do that, you know I care more about you than anything else.”

“Even more than the cactuses?”

“Well, now you’re asking too much of me.”

He snorts and playfully hits your arm, then he falls back on the bed and drags you down with him. You stay cuddled like that for a while before you pull back to look into his eyes.

“I appreciate you doing this for me Buck, but you don’t ever need to sacrifice your own comfort for me, okay?”

“I know, I’m sorry. But you looked so happy.”

“Don’t be, and I’m always happy with you, I promise.”

“I’m always happy too.”

“We’re such saps. Gross. Anyways, guess where we’re going next?” you ask him cheerfully, scratching his scalp the way that makes him purr like a cat.

“The plan was New Mexico, Texas and Louisiana, right?” he frowns. You’d made plans together ages ago and you were so excited about visiting Texas of all places for God knows what reason. He’s predicted already that he won’t stand the suffocating, humid heat of that whole area. At least Arizona was dry as hell.

You on the other hand, everyday he’s become more aware of how much of a lizard you are, seeking the sun and walking around in the scorching heat not even breaking a sweat.

“Guess again baby boy, we’re going straight to Oregon. I mean, it's not Alaska but it’s not as hot as the desert here, right?

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to overheat?” you state like it’s obvious, rolling your eyes, “We’ll do New Mexico and the rest next fall, and now Oregon and Washington because it’s a little cooler there. So what do you say?” You ask with a hopeful look in your eyes.

“Princess I appreciate you doing this for me, but I promise I’ll be fine. You don’t have to change plans for me, this is your road trip.”

“No you won’t Buck, you’re not doing good and I don’t ever want to see you suffer, you understand? By the time we get to Texas it will be summer and you won’t stand it, it’s better if we visit when it’s colder.”

He smiles softly. He knows he’d do the same for you. “Then Oregon it is.”

You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom to shower, “Oh, and baby?” you call out, peeking your head from behind the door, “This is your road trip too, never forget that.”

Oregon

“Why does Thor get to have places named after him and we don’t? We were Avengers too.”

“But are we norse gods?”

“I mean, not yet, but I definitely deserve some nature’s wonder, or at least a star, to be named after me.”

“I’ll call WMO and get them to name a hurricane after you, princess. It seems more fitting.”

“Asshole.”

You’d been camping somewhere in Oregon’s wilderness when he came up with the idea of visiting all of the State’s so called seven wonders, starting from Thor’s Well on the Coast and ending in Mount Hood near Portland. You took a thousand photos of each attraction and sent a video of the water seemingly draining inside the famous well to the God himself, who enthusiastically expressed his appreciation.

Bucky’s cherished every minute of it, from the hot springs of Crater Lake to the chillier temperatures at night that force you to snuggle closer to him to warm up.

You’re in Portland now, and you’re thoroughly enjoying it, but what’s new about that? You’re always so full of life, so genuinely excited about everything the world has to offer that he’d be worried if you weren’t having the time of your life as you usually are.

He likes the city too, which is saying a lot.

“Blueberries are the superior berry and that’s the hill I’m willing to die on.”

You’ve been eating your way through Portland for weeks, and you’ve been discussing pies for a solid thirty minutes now. It’s raining outside and you’re cooped up in a small pie shop, eating more than an average human can and receiving weird looks from the waitress as you tell her to ‘keep ‘em coming’.

“I’m sorry but you’re wrong princess,” he states with a stuffed mouth just for the sake of aggravating you to no end, “blackberries are just so much better.”

It works as you grimace in disgust, both at his statement and his manners.

He’s found out you are weirdly opinionated when it comes to pies: pecan pies are an abomination, pumpkin doesn’t belong in dessert, lemon pie and key lime pie are only acceptable if someone’s grandma is kindly offering them to you, rhubarb pie without strawberries is a threat to mankind and cherry and blueberry pies are the absolute best. Apple pie is too bland to even take the time to discuss it, although the taste is likeable enough.

He on the other hand likes anything pie and anything sweet. And anything that gets a rise out of you.

“Please Buck, this isn’t even a blackberry pie, it’s some sort of inbred experiment that turned out kinda right.”

He shushes you, barely holding back a laugh when he sees the waiter side eyeing you as you disrespect one of Oregon’s most famous dishes, “First of all, it’s called marionberry and it’s a type of blackberry. And second, keep it down unless you want us to be kicked out, you’re offending a whole state.”

“Sorry.” you shrug, “But blueberry tartness level is where I draw the line, anything more than that is unacceptable.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re still a child and haven’t developed adult taste buds yet baby.” He does love his senior citizen card a bit too much.

This earns him a kick under the table and a scowl. “Stop it, grandpa.” you groan.

He grins and digs in your slice of marionberry pie. You resume to people watching.

God, he loves Oregon. And he loves you.

He really is a sap.

Wyoming

Washington was nice enough. You’ve taken him bar crawling most nights, and all of them have ended with him giving you a piggyback ride, per your request, back to the hotel room you were staying at.

It takes 13 hours to drive from Seattle to Yellowstone and you’ve driven all the way. You refused to disclose the destination of the trip and he’s fallen asleep the last 3 hours in the car. He’d mentioned he wanted to see the geysers somewhere in Pennsylvania two years ago and you remembered and took him.

Bucky couldn’t be happier.

He’s still describing the constellations above you when you fall asleep, and he’s so absorbed by the sky that he doesn’t notice until your head falls on his shoulder and he hears your soft snores.

He picks you up bridal style and takes you back to the fancy tent he bought on a whim in Ohio after you both slept in the SUV and woke up with major back and neck pain. He smiles as he removes your makeup with a wipe and does your skincare just the way you taught him, and admires your relaxed state.

He grazes your pretty face with his vibranium fingers, something so unimaginable to him before he met you, as he never thought his arm could bring anything other than pain.

Back when he was a semi stable 100 year old man thrust in another fight yet again, he hadn’t realized the extent of his feelings for you, believing he was only attracted to your beauty and youth. He hadn’t seen the way your smile lights up a whole room, nor the way you listen, truly listen, to anyone who may have anything to tell you, without ever judging them. He hadn’t witness your kindness and patience, let alone experienced them on his own skin. He hadn’t been lucky enough to watch you feed bird seed to the ducks of every pond of the country, or try to rescue a cat from a rooftop and almost falling off to save it.

Then Sam told him you were leaving and he felt like the word was collapsing on him. He’d found the sunlight and he never wanted to be without it.

Now he’s seen it all, all the little things that make you who you are, including your flaws, and he loves you not regardless of them, nor in spite of them, but because even your worst imperfections make you… you.

Bucky doesn’t know if meeting you was a way for the universe to fix all the wrongs that have been done to him, a sort of payback for all the shit he’s been put through, but in case it is, then he’s got no objections. And maybe he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you, but he’s a selfish man, and now that his sunshine girl is with him he never wants to plunge back into the the darkness ever again.

He tucks you both under the sleeping bag and snuggles next to you.

“Buck?” you mumble in a haze, tugging at his t-shirt, “Love you.”

It’s almost imperceptible, but his supersoldier hearing allows him to pick it up. He kisses the crown of your hair as he caresses your back.

“I love you too sweetheart.”

He wants to spend the rest of his time on Earth proving you how much.

New York

6 months later

The doctor wasn’t lying when she warned you that recovery would take 6 to 9 months.

You said the aftermath of the operation hurt like a bitch and that physiotherapy hurt even more. Today’s your last session and Bucky is glad about it for many reasons, like how you’re not in pain anymore for starters, and maybe because of how annoyingly fun, smart and hot your therapist is. Not like he’d ever admit it to you.

“Jesus,” you groan, “he turned me inside out like a sock, I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

“Sounds fun.” he deadpans.

“Someone’s jealous of the doctor?” you ask with a mischievous smirk.

“‘M not. He’s not all that.” he mumbles, blushing like a school boy.

You snort and drawl a ‘sure’. He sends you his best death glare.

“Whatever. I hope you don’t mind if we take a stop before going home.” he announces, helping you into the car. His palms feel clammy and he’s sweating despite the chilly winds of New York’s fall.

“Sure, where are we going?”

“Actually, that’s kind of a surprise, you’ll see.”

You beam at his words; he knows you love surprises and he hopes you’re going to like this one.

----

You look radiant as you lie on the blanket he’s spread on the grass, surrounded by colorful foliage. You’re sipping some of your favorite wine and nibbling on crackers as you admire a flock of birds migrating south in the sky.

You are the sun and he’s simply basking in your light. And he’s so selfish, he thinks as he holds the velvet box with the diamond ring inside of it, he’s so damn selfish we wants to keep the light all to himself for the rest of his life.

He’s prepared a long, passionate speech to tell you how much he loves you, of all the ways you’ve changed his life for the better and of all the reasons why he’d be a good husband.

But when you look at him with those bright eyes and beaming smile, he can barely remember his own name. He drops on one knee and holds the box out with shaky hands.

“Marry me, please.”

----

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years

Text

Love Is Not Forced ~ 18

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,030ish

Summary: The Princess arrives in Brooklyn.

The King of Brooklyn had been a nervous wreck, the two weeks the Princess had stayed in Wakanda. He feared that she was never going to show, never going to give him a chance. The hope that blossomed within him upon receiving T’Challa’s letter that the Princess would soon be in Brooklyn, was fleeting. The nerves set in were worse than before. The King knew that he had messed up with Y/N, multiple times, and that her stay in Brooklyn would be his last chance.

King Steven’s three closest friends had to keep him calm and keep the preparation running as the King worried. There was Captain James Barnes, or Bucky, who was make sure that the guards were prepared. There was Lady Natasha, James’ wife, who was making sure that the place was clean and fresh flower arrangements were being prepared. Lastly, but certainly not least, there was Lord Samuel Wilson, or Sam, who was making sure the guard was prepped as well and that the meal menus looked good.

“I think I’m going to pass out,” Steve stated, pacing back and forth in the entry way of his castle.

“I wouldn’t put it passed your body, with the way you’re pacing,” Bucky responded, watching his King.

“I can’t wait for the Princess to arrive at the same time we’re carrying your body away,” Sam laughed. “Now that would be a story to tell!”

“You boys helping Steve’s nerves, or making it worse?” Natasha asked, walking into the room.

“Worse.” “Better.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and headed over to her nervous friend. She put her hands on his arms to get him to stop pacing and look at her.

“It will be fine, Steve,” she said.

“I’m going to screw up again,” he panicked, shaking his head. “I just know it.”

“Steve,” Natasha moved her hands to the King’s face to keep his focus on her. “Breathe. There’s no way you could possibly screw up again. You have so many different ideas and advantages to get her to open up to you. The Princess has never seen the sea or walked on the beach. Show her how wonderful our kingdom is.”

“Your Majesty,” a guard came in, “the Princess of Alexandria is approaching the gate.”

The smell that filled Y/N’s nostrils as she approached Brooklyn’s castle was foreign to her. But it smelt wonderful. It was salty and kind of chilly. She was became more in awe, the closer the carriage got to the castle. The King’s castle was built on top of and on the side of a cliff. Crystal clear, blue water was its view and there were beaches covered in white sand below. King Steven had told her Brooklyn was beautiful and, unfortunately, she wholeheartedly agreed.

As the carriage pulled up to the castle, the King and his guards were there waiting to greet her. The King rushed to the carriage to open the door and help the Princess out.

“It’s so good to see you again, Your Highness,” the King said, holding a hand out to help her out.

“Likewise,” the Princess responded, curtly, as she ignored his hand and helped herself out.

The King sighed. He knew it was going to be hard to gain her favor, and this just proved it. “I hope the trip here wasn’t too bad. The roads from Wakanda to Brooklyn can be rough.”

“They were fine,” Y/N responded, keeping her eyes busy at looking everywhere else but the King. From what she had seen of the castle so far, she was impressed. But she would never tell him that.

“So, I was thinking that I could introduce you to Brooklyn tonight?”

“Tonight?” Y/N finally let herself look at the King.

“Well, not to the whole kingdom,” he rushed, looking a bit embarrassed. “But you told me that you’ve never seen the sea or beach before, so I thought that you and I could have dinner on the beach.”

Y/N was a bit surprised at his offer. “You’re not sending me to rest until tomorrow? All the other kingdoms have shown me to my room and told me to rest until the next day.”

“We could do that, if you want. I just thought that—“

“No. I… I don’t want that. I… Yes. I would love to join you for dinner.”

The King smiled, though trying to hide his excitement. “Okay. Umm… you can get settled and rest until then though. Dinner won’t be for a few more hours.”

“Okay.”

“This is Lady Natasha,” the King pointed to a woman standing with two men off to the side. “She will make sure your stay here in Brooklyn is the best it can be.”

“Hello, Your Highness,” the red head stepped up, giving a curtsy. “It will be my genuine pleasure to help you during your stay here.”

“Thank you,” Y/N smiled.

“If there is anything you should need, don’t me afraid to ask Lady Natasha, myself, or my two right hands,” the King stated. Steve motioned for the two men to step closer. “This is my captain of the guards, Captain James Barnes.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Princess,” the Captain bowed, grabbing her hand for a kiss. “And you can call me Bucky. Captain Barnes is too formal.”

“Lady Natasha is the Captain’s wife. And this is Lord Samuel Wilson.” The second man stepped forward, repeating the same actions as the Captain. “He is in charge of basically everything else.”

“You can all me Sam,” Lord Wilson said. “And what the King means by basically everything else is that I teach him how to flirt.”

Y/N laughed. “Oh. Then, I’m sorry to say, Sam, that you are doing a terrible job.”

Bucky let out a loud laugh, hitting Sam on his back. “I told you Sam. You aren’t that good at flirting. That’s why I’m the only one with a wife.”

“That’s enough,” the King said. Y/N looked at him with a sly smile, he was clearly embarrassed. “Lady Natasha will show you to your room. And I’ll pick you up from there for dinner.”

“Thank you, King Steven. I can’t wait to see more of your beautiful castle and kingdom.”

“I have no idea what to wear to the beach, Wanda,” Y/N said, concerned, as she looked through the dresses that had been packed for her.

“I have something, Your Highness,” Lady Natasha spoke up. “I not sure how it will fit. But we can try it.”

“I’m open to anything at this point, Lady Natasha.”

“I will go fetch it then. I will be right back, Princess.”

Natasha was back almost as soon as she came, with a blue and white dress in tow. It was simpler than the dresses that had been packed for Y/N, but it was still pretty. Natasha and Wanda changed the Princess into it, quickly, because Natasha said that she had been told the King was almost ready. Y/N couldn’t help but feel nervous as the time drew near. She didn’t know what the King would be like, or even what the sea water and sand would be like. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Wanda quickly answered it.

“Your Majesty,” Wanda greeted with a curtsy.

“Is the Princess ready?” King Steven’s voice asked from the hallway.

“I am,” Y/N answered, moving towards the open doorway.

“Great,” the King smiled, holding out his arm. “Shall we be on our way?”

“We shall.” Y/N walked out and headed down the hall, ignoring the King’s arm.

The King sighed. “Will she ever forgive me?”

“She will,” Wanda replied. “It will just take time. The Princess… she just has trouble trusting people, that’s all. Just be patient, Your Majesty, and continue trying. She’ll come around eventually.”

“Thank you for the advice, Lady…”

“Wanda. You can just call me Wanda.”

“Well, thank you Wanda. For the advice. I must be off. The Princess has seemed to have gone off without directions of where to go.”

“Good luck, Your Majesty. And have fun.”

It didn’t take long for Steven to catch up to Y/N. She had stopped around the corner, fiddling with her hands as she waited. They walked to the outside staircase, that led to the beach, in silence. Steven didn’t know what to say, or where to even begin with the Princess. His mouth had already caused him so much trouble with her, he was afraid he’d do it again. As the ventured further down the stairs, the King heard the Princess gasp.

“What is it?” The King asked, worried that something was wrong.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, staring out to the sea.

The sun was sitting just above the horizon. The sky was the brightest shade of orange she had ever seen. She looked down to see the waves crashing against the white sand. Y/N believed that she had never seen anything more beautiful in her entire life.

“It is,” the King said, smiling at her. “We must hurry though, if you want to watch the sunset from the beach.”

“Yes,” the Princess smiled.

The two hurried down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, Y/N stopped at the last step, staring at sand below. The King watched curious as to what she was going to do. She slowly set one of her feet down. It sank a bit, causing sand to flood into her shoe. She lifted it up, trying to shake the sand out of her shoe.

“Here,” Steven came up to her. “Sometimes it’s better to go barefoot.”

“Really?”

“Really. That way you can feel the sand between your toes and the waves come up over your feet.” The King knelt in front of her, looking up at her. “May I?”

Y/N nodded, lifting her foot towards him. He carefully removed her shoe, setting it on the bottom step before gesturing for her to lift her other foot. He took that shoe off with the same delicacy as he did the first. After setting her other shoe to the side, the King stood up and held his hand out to Y/N.

“Come on,” he said, smiling at her. She carefully took the King’s hand, stepping down onto the sand.

“It’s so, soft,” she giggled, moving her feet around in the sand. “I love it!”

“I’m glad,” Steven chuckled.

The Princess looked down at his feet, which still had his boots on. “Will you not join me, Your Majesty?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

The King sat down and pulled his boots and socks off quickly. The two of them set towards the water. When they weren’t too far from the shore line, the Princess started running towards the water. She knew that it was improper but she didn’t care. King Steven simply smiled as he watched Y/N reach the shore line and step into the water. Y/N laughed as the waves rolled up over her feet.

“This is wonderful,” she said.

“It is isn’t it?” Steven said, coming up beside her. “Sometimes I take it for granted.”

“If I lived here, I would make sure that I visited the beach at least once a day.”

“Maybe I should take you up on that.” Y/N looked at Steven, curious. “While you’re here, you visit the beach once a day and I join you.”

“I can’t visit it more than once?”

Steven chuckled. “I didn’t mean it like that. You can visit here as much as you would like. I just meant that at least for one of those visits, you let me accompany you. Would that be okay?”

“It’s your kingdom, Your Majesty. You can accompany whenever you please.”

“Yes, you’re correct that it is my kingdom. But you are my guest, and I do not want to push boundaries.”

“I think it would be okay if you were to accompany me at least once a day. I think I could handle that, as long as we’re out here.”

“It’s a deal then?”

“It’s a deal.”

next chapter >

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veliseraptor · 3 years

Note

Hey just wondering, do you have any draft or work in process or any plan for your next Loki fic? If so can you give us a little sneak peek. Or if you don’t, do you think you’ll write more about him in the future? I know you probably get this a lot and I’m sorry if it’s annoying or if it sounds rude or anything. I’m just wondering and also I’ve been binge reading your stories about him and got addicted so there’s that. But seriously I’m sorry if my message comes off as rude or annoying, that’s not my intention. Anyway hope you’re having an amazing day

I genuinely hate to sound like a broken record, anon, since you are being very polite about this! Which I very much appreciate! But the answer remains more or less the same: I don’t know. I have (counts) 38 different Loki-related WIPs in various stages of completion sitting on my hard drive. I haven’t been working on them actively lately because, to the dismay I’m sure of many of my followers, another fandom has devoured me whole. I’m really enjoying the experience, but it has left me with relatively little brainspace for things that aren’t that thing (or, I guess, other danmei novels and adaptations thereof?? idk okay).

At some point I would like to finish at least some of those stories, because I do not like leaving things unfinished. But I just don’t know when - or if! - I will. It just depends on if I get that emotional investment back. At the moment it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen imminently, but who knows. And maybe I’ll go back and reread what I have written of some of these, go “where’s the rest, op” and feel encouraged to write more.

All that being said - since you were so nice about this, I will give you a (3000 word) excerpt from one of the WIPs - Dead Superheroes Walking, which is the one about the characters who died/were dusted in Infinity War on a road trip through the Soul Stone.

---

“Anyone for a game of twenty questions?” Sam asked, after they’d been walking for maybe ten minutes.

“Really?” Bucky said. “Twenty questions?”

“I don’t think ‘I Spy’ would work too well. Not a lot of interesting landmarks. Or hadn’t you noticed that the landscape keeps repeating?”

“I am Groot,” said Groot.

“And I have no idea what that means,” Sam said.

Sam was right, Wanda realized. The landscape was repeating. It wasn’t obvious, at first, but there was only one tree, over and over; only one rock placed near to it. The sky was a flat and even orange.

A faint shiver ran down Wanda’s spine. Bucky stopped, though, visibly disconcerted.

“What the hell is this place,” he said.

“Does it matter?” Sam asked. “We’re not exactly going anywhere else. All right, I’ve got it. Twenty questions, yes or no answers only.”

“I am Groot?” said Groot. Sam eyed him.

“I’m not going to take that off the count,” he said.

“Is it alive?” T’Challa asked.

“Yep,” Sam said.

“Guess that rules us out,” Bucky said. Sam snorted, and T’Challa cracked a small smile. Wanda stared down at a small, triangular rock in front of her feet.

“All right,” Bucky said. “Is it an animal?”

“Yes. Two questions down. Wanda?”

She bent down and picked up the rock. It left red dust on her fingers, and when she pressed her fingers together it crumbled like chalk. She half expected the dust to vanish, but the red stain on her fingertips stayed.

“Wanda?” Sam said, more gently.

“Sorry,” she said. “Is it a person?”

“Nope,” Sam said. “That’s three.”

She wiped her hand off on her clothes. This place wasn’t right - she could feel it in her bones, deep down where her magic ought to be. But nothing had been right in the last few days. Very few things in Wanda’s life had been right. Why should her death be any different?

It only seemed unfair that the others should be here, too.

They sky did not change, but they stopped walking eventually - less because any of them were actually tired than because it seemed like they should. Or maybe because they were tired of walking and wanted some change, even if there was very little change to be had. The road went on. The landscape didn’t alter.

And no one else appeared.

“It can’t just be us,” Sam said. “Other people died. Where are they?”

Nobody had an answer for him, unless the tree’s “I am Groot” was an answer none of them could understand. Wanda thought it might be something to do with the fact that they’d all died when Thanos had snapped his fingers, but she stayed quiet, staring off at the horizon and only half listening to Bucky and Sam going back and forth at each other.

“I see something,” T’Challa said abruptly. They all turned and followed the line of his arm.

“I can’t see anything,” Sam said.

“Give it a sec,” Bucky said. “He’s probably got a hundred extra yards visibility on me. Maybe 150 on you–”

“I am Groot,” Groot said. Wanda strained her eyes, some part of her wishing - hoping–

“Is that a dog?” Sam said.

A moment later Wanda saw it too, and slumped. It did look like a dog padding towards them - or at least, it certainly wasn’t a person.

“That’s not a dog,” T’Challa said.

“Fox, I think,” Bucky said. “What the fuck is a fox doing here?”

“I don’t think it’s a fox, either,” T’Challa said. He shifted, like he was thinking about getting into a fighting stance. Wanda stepped forward, reaching for her powers, but nothing was there.

What would be the point, anyway? You can only die once.

The fox - and it was a fox, Wanda could see that now, though black instead of red - slowed as it began to draw closer. It sat down, still a ways away, and cocked its head, looking at them.

“This is weird,” Sam said. T’Challa was still frowning.

“What is it?” Bucky asked him. T’Challa shook his head.

“I’m not certain.”

The fox stood, stretched, and changed, unfolding into a person. Wanda sucked in a breath, staring at the man now walking toward them: dark-haired, pale, lean and taller than Bucky or T’Challa. A vague sense of familiarity nagged at her, but she couldn’t say from where.

The man stopped, still several paces from them, and cocked his head just as the fox had. “Well,” he said, a faint rasp in his voice. “This is new.”

Wanda stared at him, trying to remember where she recognized him from. “New?”

“Yes,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else. But then, this time is different.”

“Wait,” Sam said abruptly. “Shit. Are you-”

“Mm,” he said, still looking at Wanda. T’Challa’s eyes were narrowed, too, and Sam’s. Bucky looked blankly at them both.

“What?”

“It’s always nice to be recognized,” the stranger said dryly.

“Loki,” Sam said. “That’s fucking Loki. Right?” Wanda’s eyes widened, but he - Loki - just shrugged one shoulder.

“So I am. Or was. I’m not certain of the appropriate tense.” His gaze swept across them, indifferent, disinterested.

“You’re dead, too,” Wanda said. Loki glanced at her, eyes focusing briefly before they slid back into dullness. No, exhaustion.

“Or something,” he said.

“‘Or something?’” Sam said. Loki’s eyes flicked in his direction.

“This doesn’t feel like death,” he said, “but I remember the feeling of my neck breaking in Thanos’s hand fairly clearly, so…” Wanda flinched, and she thought she saw Sam’s eye twitch. She remembered Thor coming roaring down from the sky, thunder and lightning in his voice, and understood. She looked down.

“What do you mean that this doesn’t feel like death,” T’Challa said into the silence.

“I know a little of what death tastes like,” Loki said after a moment. “This isn’t it.”

“What does that mean,” Bucky said, looking agitated and uncertain.

“I am Groot,” said Groot, and Loki glanced at him, something briefly flashing across his expression before it was gone. Pain, Wanda thought.

“Not entirely accurate,” he said, “but not entirely inaccurate, either.” There was a brief pause.

“You can understand him?” Bucky said. Loki shrugged again. “What did he say?”

“It’s irrelevant.” Loki’s eyes moved back to Wanda. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that you were simply the high cost of victory?” Wanda looked down, somehow feeling ashamed of her failure. Loki let out a quiet huff. “Pity.”

Bucky, oddly, snorted.

“Thanos gained all of the Infinity Stones,” T’Challa said. “Then…” He trailed off. “I am not entirely certain what happened then.”

Loki made a sort of hm noise, glancing at T’Challa sidelong. “So you didn’t die in battle,” he said.

“If so, I do not remember it,” T’Challa said.

“I am Groot,” Groot said to Loki, whose head swiveled violently toward him, eyes sharpening.

“Gamora,” he said, and there was a wealth of hatred and fear in that word. “You are a companion of hers?”

“I am Groot,” Groot said emphatically, and Loki blinked, then pressed his lips together and exhaled in a short burst.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter now.”

“Can you maybe translate what he’s saying,” Bucky said irritably. “Since all the rest of us can hear is the same three words over and over.”

“He says that Gamora claimed Thanos meant to use the completed Gauntlet to halve all life in the universe,” Loki said. “If you know that he achieved his goal, then presumably you were part of the unlucky half. Though that does not explain why you are here. Or else does not explain why I am.”

“And who’s Gamora,” Sam said, with such exaggerated patience that it demonstrated anything but.

“An old acquaintance,” Loki said. He sounded distracted.

“I am Groot,” Groot said, and this time Wanda could hear the near pride in his voice. Loki didn’t respond. He was scanning their number again, Wanda realized, more closely.

She bit her lip, then raised her voice and said, “Thor’s alive.” His gaze snapped to her, and she made herself hold it though her instinct was to look down. “At least, he was when I...he drove an axe into Thanos’s chest. It didn’t work, it was too late, but…” She trailed off.

Loki glanced down, his eyes half closing, and Wanda thought she caught a brief flicker at the corner of his mouth, not quite a smile, and a barely audible, “ah, Thor.” Then his eyes were back on hers and he said simply, “thank you for informing me,” with a lack of feeling that made Wanda frown.

“You haven’t asked who any of us are,” Bucky said.

“So I have not,” Loki said. “I am not certain it is precisely relevant.”

“Excuse you,” Sam said. Loki glanced at him, that tired indifference returning.

“I approached because I was curious. I wasn’t intending to stay, nor would I think you were inclined to encourage it.”

T’Challa was studying Loki with curious intensity. “Were you going somewhere?”

“No,” Loki said, and then paused and adjusted, “perhaps.”

“I am Groot?” Groot said, and Loki’s lips pressed briefly together.

“It means perhaps. And don’t be crude.”

“I’m with him,” Sam said. “What does perhaps mean?” Loki looked briefly annoyed, and Sam said, “come on. We’re all dead here. Or - not. Which still begs the question as far as I’m concerned of what we are.”

Loki’s eyes went back to her, and Wanda shifted. “What?” She asked. “Why do you keep looking at me?”

“You haven’t noticed anything strange, then?” He asked. “Felt anything?”

Too many things, Wanda thought, but she didn’t think that was what he meant, and now they were all looking at her. Wanda hesitated.

“I don’t have my powers,” she said slowly. Loki made a derisive noise.

“Of course you don’t,” he said. “Do you need them to sense what’s around you? Midgardian magicians. Norns.”

Wanda glared at him, but took a breath and tried to turn inward, like she was going to use her power. It still wasn’t there, but this time, without distractions…

She jerked and saw a satisfied glint in Loki’s eyes, just for an instant. “There,” he said.

“Wanda, what is it?” Sam asked, looking suspiciously at Loki.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But it feels like…” She searched for the right words. “Like a heartbeat,” she said finally, even if that wasn’t quite right.

Bucky’s expression was a mixture of horror and alarm. “A heartbeat?”

“So that’s what it feels like to you,” Loki said thoughtfully. He seemed more engaged now than he had been at first, and somehow even though it shouldn’t matter that felt like a good thing. Maybe because nothing else was.

“It’s not actually,” Wanda said quickly. “That’s just sort of what it feels like - to me, anyway. It’s...different for you?”

Loki shrugged. T’Challa shifted.

“I know what she means,” he said. “Though I wouldn’t have described it like that. But there is...something.”

“Interesting,” Loki said, glancing at T’Challa and looking him over with slightly more interest. “To answer your implied question, I would call it a...resonance.”

“A resonance with what,” Sam asked.

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be bothering to talk to you,” Loki said. “But partly it is that which makes me think this is something other than simple death.”

“What is there other than ‘simple death,’” Bucky said tightly.

“That is the question, isn’t it,” Loki said. “Maybe nothing. Maybe I am wrong. But if I am not…”

“If you’re not, what,” Bucky said, even tighter.

“Then it begs the question of why, doesn’t it?” Loki rolled his neck in a slow circle, and Wanda could have sworn she heard something crack. “At least, such was my thought. But maybe it is just desperation.”

He didn’t sound desperate. He didn’t sound much of anything.

“Why not stay with us,” Wanda said abruptly. Everyone else turned to stare at her, Loki included, and she straightened, turning toward her friends. “I mean it,” she said. “Why not? We’re all here together. And if he’s right and there’s a why, a reason...wouldn’t it suggest that’s true for all of us, including him?” She paused, and added, “and besides - what can he do to us, anyway?”

Loki barked a laugh. “That is a fair point,” he murmured.

“How do we know this isn’t some kind of trick?” T’Challa asked, his eyes narrowed.

“You don’t,” Loki said. “But I will say that you vastly overestimate my interest in you. Well, the majority of you. And your witch has a point: what is it you think I will do?”

“I don’t know,” T’Challa said. “That’s what worries me.”

“And ‘our witch’ has a name,” Sam said a little sourly.

Loki shrugged. “As you will. It makes little difference to me.” He moved around them and started to walk away.

“I am Groot,” Groot muttered, and strode after him, long tree-legs catching up in a few strides. “I am Groot?” He said to Loki, who checked himself and looked at him, his face tightening.

“Was, yes,” he said. “Why?”

“I am Groot,” Groot said definitively, and Loki shook his head.

“Call back your child,” he said, with a sharp gesture at Groot.

“Child?” Sam said, eyebrows shooting up.

“He’s an adolescent Flora Colossus,” Loki said, as though it were obvious. “And he is not following me. I don’t care who you were friends with.”

Thor, Wanda thought. Groot didn’t know any of them, but he’d known Thor, at least a little, and Loki was Thor’s brother, and Groot was, apparently, a teenager, among strangers who couldn’t understand him, who had just died.

Wanda’s chest ached. “If he wants to,” she said, “I don’t see why he shouldn’t.”

“I’m not interested in playing nursemaid–”

“I am Groot,” Groot said, and Loki gave him a hard look.

“No, you are not,” he said. “I’ve met grown Flora Colossi and you aren’t it. You’re barely more than a sapling. Maybe - what, four years old?”

“You know what,” Bucky said, “I’m with Wanda, actually. And the, uh...Groot. This place is weird. I think we should stick together, and it seems like he knows more about this place than any of the rest of us do.” His eyes settled on Loki. “And it’s not like we have a whole lot to lose, right now.”

Sam gave Bucky a long, skeptical look and then glanced at T’Challa, who shrugged.

“You assume I am interested in putting up with the lot of you,” Loki said flatly. He looked tense, Wanda thought. Like he was expecting some kind of trap. Wanda tried to summon a smile.

“You said you came over because you were curious,” she said. “And if you’re right, and there is some reason we’re all here...isn’t that something else to be curious about?”

“I am Groot,” said Groot, and Loki glanced at him, jaw twitching.

“I’m dead, you twig,” he said. “If not now, then probably soon. And if I did need protecting, you wouldn’t be much help.”

Bucky snorted, poorly muffled. Wanda bit her lip so she didn’t smile. Groot’s expression was hard for her to read, but it looked to her eyes like a glare.

Loki exhaled loudly and looked away. “Fine,” he said. “If you are inclined...I suppose there’s no harm in traveling adjacently.”

“Traveling where?” Sam asked. “You make it sound like you have an actual destination.”

“I have a...feeling,” Loki said, though something about the brief pause before he spoke made Wanda think there was something he wasn’t saying. The question was if it was important or not. “No more than that.”

“Well,” T’Challa said after a few moments of hesitation, “that is more than I have, at the moment. And so far as I know we weren’t going anywhere in particular, so…”

“I guess that settles it,” Wanda said. Loki eyed her like he suspected her of having some ulterior motive. She decided to pretend not to notice. “So which way are we going?”

#anonymous #conversating #fic excerpt #i know this is an unsatisfying answer! i know it!#i just don't have a better one #this does remind me i should write up an actual faq at some point maybe

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fanfictionaries · 4 years

Text

Your Little Ritual

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X female reader

Summary: You and Bucky have started your own weird little ritual when it comes to being stuck in hotel rooms on missions. At first it’s fairly innocent. Until it isn’t.

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Swearing, smut, NSFW/18+ only, mutual masturbation

Author’s Note: Inspired by THIS audio because...damn. Listening to the audio with the story is advised!

I have no beta reader. So I apologize for any typos or grammatical errors. I didn’t go over this very in-depth. I just really wanted to get it out.

***

It had all started very innocently, this weird little ritual you and Bucky now shared. Never in your life did you think it would have propelled into what it was now. You swore by that. One night, after a complication with the mission plans had arisen, you found yourself in a hotel room with Bucky awaiting further orders. Steve had informed you that a response on how to proceed wouldn’t come until the next day. He had told you to head to the hotel and sit tight while they tried to work through the logistics. No big deal. Things like this happened all the time. In fact, only a few months prior you had gotten stranded in Belize with Sam and Wanda after you had discovered your intel was compromised. Seven days and nights in a bed bug ridden motel had put the three of you on such edge that you and Wanda had almost come to blows. And she was easily your best friend. A single night in a nice, clean hotel wasn’t the worst thing in the world. In fact, it could have easily been considered a mini vacation as you and Bucky had raided the vending machines that night before jumping onto the big king size bed and flipping on the TV.

You were digging into the assortment of chips, candy, and soda when Bucky asked you what you would probably consider to this day to be the weirdest question anyone has ever asked you.

“Hey (Y/N), what’s Wetter the Better? I don’t think I’ve heard of that one.”

You stopped, mid-bite into a twinkie, and looked over to him and then the TV. Sure enough, there on the channel guide was Wetter the Better playing from 9-10pm on channel 581. You couldn’t help but let a snort out through your nose as you bit down into the overly sweet cake and synthetic filling.

“That’s a porno Bucky Boy. I’d be more concerned if you had seen it. No one pays for porn anymore,” you stated bluntly, mouth full of twinkie.

“Seriously?” Bucky asked, looking at the television with a bewildered expression.

“Yea, with all the free sites online, why pay someone to watch people get it on?” you continued, taking another bite and picking out a bag of Doritos from the pile of junk.

“No. Not—I mean. You can get pornographic movies on TV? Can just anyone watch it or?” Bucky questioned, turning to you with a curious expression.

“Wait. How do you not know about porn Bucky? Haven’t you like…been around?” you asked, utterly confused by what was going on at that moment, “Like I understand why Steve might not know about it, but…”

“I know what porn is,” Bucky rolled his eyes, “Obviously I’ve heard of it. But I’ve never seen it. Most definitely didn’t know they’d just have it on the TV like this where anyone can see it. Children even!”

“Not everyone can see it. You have to pay for it. Here look,” you leaned over and grabbed the remote from his hand and clicked on the movie title. Up popped a screen asking if you’d like to purchase the channel for a flat rate of $20 a day. “I’m still confused. How do you not know about this? Porno channels have been around since before the 90’s and I’m pretty sure you were Winter Soldiering about the normal world then.”

“Well yea, but I spent half of it frozen and the other half well…let’s just say he didn’t have much of an interest in sex, let alone watching others have sex,” admitted Bucky, scratching his neck and discretely looking back at the television.

“Bucky…” you lingered, unsure if your assessment of the situation was correct or not, “do you want to watch the porno movie?”

Bucky blushed, looking away from you.

“Oh my god! You do!”

“(Y/N)…” whined Bucky, obviously embarrassed.

“We totally can if you want,” you said, smiling from ear to ear at the poor man sitting at the end of the bed.

“What?” Bucky turned to you, his voice dripping with surprise, “Won’t that be…I don’t know, weird?”

“Only if you make it weird,” you shrugged, “You’ve lived a deprived life Bucky Boy. I think if you want to buy a porno movie in a hotel, you should be able to. Plus, sometimes they’re really cheesy and funny. We might get a good laugh.”

“Okay…okay yea. Let’s do it,” decided Bucky, grabbing a Baby Ruth and scooting back to sit against the headboard. His body almost vibrated in excitement as you proceeded to buy porn on Tony Stark’s dime and clicked ‘Play’.

And so, the night had gone as such. In the beginning, Bucky was like a teenage boy seeing a Playboy in his dad’s basement for the first time. He stared in wide-eyed amazement as the music began to play and the camera focused on the overly done-up, but impressively attractive woman on screen. Then, as it played on, very quickly did you both realize how incredibly ridiculous the movie actually was. Between bad dialogue, poor acting, and the obviously fake moans, the two of you were in tears. You laughed and joked around as you continued to snack and watch. Near the end, however, the movie took a turn and the last scene had become a little more believable and a little less hilarious. By the end, Bucky had cleared his throat and made a casual comment about taking a shower. You nodded, telling him to take his time. It was very clear that you both needed a bit of private time.

And so, a ritual had been born.

Every time you and Bucky found yourselves spending an evening together in a hotel room, it was expected that you’d end up watching a porno, laughing your asses off and then occasionally parting ways to take care of certain needs if required. It should have felt weird. It should have been weird. You both knew that. It was the reason you didn’t tell anyone about it. But still, you both seemed to bond over the act. Inside jokes were formed, good times were had. You liked to think of it as the oddest coworker team building exercise in the world. And that’s all it was.

Until it wasn’t.

That particular night had started out like any other. You and Bucky were stuck in a grungy little motel somewhere in the Midwest. You had raided the vending machines, you were sitting on the bed, as Bucky scrolled through the TV guide to find the porn channel. The only difference this night was that the bed was smaller than usual. Often you and Bucky had to get rooms with only one bed. The guise of a couple staying the night on a road trip was much more believable and did well to cover your tracks. However, you usually tried to get rooms with at least a queen mattress. Bucky was a big guy and you liked to flop around in your sleep. Or so he told you. But, the motel in question only had rooms with doubles left. And that was fine. You could both deal with that no problem.

“What’s playing tonight at the Skinemax theatre Bucky Boy?” you asked, crossing one ankle over the other as you took a sip of orange soda. You placed in on the side table next to you and hugged a throw pillow close to your chest.

“Well, we have what appears to be a parody of The Wizard of Oz or The Sex Therapist.”

“My vote would be for the second one. I actually like The Wizard of Oz, I don’t think I need it ruined by a bad porn parody,” you confessed. Bucky nodded in agreement, pressing play on The Sex Therapist and popping an M&M into his mouth.

“I can’t wait to see how bad this is gonna’ be,” said Bucky, getting comfortable.

“I know right? Probably some guy in glasses telling a girl the only way to cure her mental issues is to fuck it out of her,” you snorted, exchanging a look with Bucky. You were both fairly familiar with the bad porn tropes at this point. In fact, one of your favorite parts of your ritual was trying to predict what was going to happen.

The screen changed from the title to the opening scene and what you saw took you by surprise for a second. The main actor happened to look a little like Bucky. Not exactly, but the resemblance was still enough to make you feel slightly awkward. He wasn’t as muscular as Bucky, but he shared the same shoulder length brown hair and rough stubble over his jaw.

“Awww Bucky Boy, why didn’t you tell me you stared in porn on the side?” you teased, hoping to distill any tension. You turned to look at him, titling your head to the side in a condescending manner.

“Shut up, I could say the same thing about you,” Bucky pointed to the screen and you turned back to see a woman who sure enough kind of resembled you. She was a little shorter than you, but you shared the same hair and eye color, as well as similar noses.

Very quickly, the two of you realized that this was unlike the porn movies you usually watched. It was…good. Really good. The acting was believable. The plot was well thought out. The actors shared a genuine chemistry and it was...hot. Very hot. Then of course to top it all off, it didn’t help that if you squinted it was almost like watching you and Bucky having hot and heavy sex right in front of you. A heat began to pool in your stomach that slowly swirled and coursed through your body. Hugging the pillow in your arms closer, you made the embarrassing realization that your nipples were rock hard. The friction of the pillow against them made you squirm in your spot on the bed. Suddenly, you were very aware of Bucky sitting next to you, close enough to touch. You glanced over, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. He appeared to be just as uncomfortable as you were. An obvious bulge starting to form in his sweats.

You cleared your throat, “Wanna’ get under the covers? It’s a bit cold in here,” you said, hoping to give you both an excuse to hide. Him, to cover his budding erection, and you to conceal the way your thighs clenched together. He graciously took the excuse, agreeing and slipping under the covers with you.

The two of you continued to watch, both afraid to admit that either of you were turned on by the movie in front of you. A pool of arousal was beginning to form in your underwear, as a particularly intense scene play on where the man had the woman bent over a desk as he spanked her ass over and over again. Bucky coughed into his hand, shifting under the blankets, his elbow bumping yours. At the contact, you jumped away from each other, Bucky muttering a few nervous apologies. It was clear that you were both feeling the effects of the movie in full force.

“You’re fine, um, this is…something,” you commented, your face heating.

“Yea, uh, yea. Very…well done,” said Bucky, not looking away from the screen.

“You know…” you began the sentence not knowing where it was going and surprising even yourself when you finished it, “if you wanted to…you know. I wouldn’t, um, I wouldn’t mind.”

“You mean…” Bucky started, looking over at you skeptically.

“I just mean, this is pretty intense. I would understand if you needed to take care of…things.”

“You mean if I wanted to get myself off,” Bucky chuckled, “You don’t see anything weird with that?”

“Well when you say it like that it is,” you rolled your eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I just go into the other room?”

“Because then you wouldn’t be able to watch the movie,” you responded, wanting to kick yourself. What were you saying? Why were you continuing to talk? It was like all the blood and common sense had left your brain and was now currently residing in your throbbing clit.

“You know what, never mind. It’s not like I was going to look or anything. Just a suggestion. Forget I—”

“Okay.”

“What?” It was your turn to look at the man beside you in surprise.

“Okay,” Bucky repeated himself resolutely before stammering on, “I guess, I wouldn’t mind either if you, ya know.”

You nodded, turning your attention back to the screen. Neither of you moved at first, almost as if you were both afraid to be the first to take the other up on their offer. But then, the ache and need deep in your core began to overtake you once again as you watched the way the Bucky look-alike entered the woman slowly from behind as he bit her shoulder animalistically. Slowly, you lowered your hand down your chest and into your sleep shorts. At first you merely rubbed yourself through your panties, allowing yourself to press against your palm, letting the pressure give you some relief. You struggled to keep your breathing even, as you watched the two on screen pant and moan as they clung to each other, sweaty and wrecked. Your arousal was becoming so great, that the cotton material under your fingers was damp, molding to the outline of your folds. Eyes glued to the two gorgeous actors, you slipped your fingers below your last barrier and made contact with your wet sex.

A gasp escaped your throat as the pads of your fingers grazed your clit, the small bud swollen and sensitive. Bucky inhaled sharply in response to your small outburst. You stilled, embarrassed by the noise you had made and glanced over at Bucky as discretely as possible. Some of your embarrassment was dissolved when you observed the subtle movement of the blankets near Bucky’s groin. With a deep and steady breath, you turned your attention back to the movie and began to explore your folds. Dipping a single finger down, you collected some of your moisture and brought it back up, circling around your clit but not making direct contact. You teased yourself, building yourself as if you had all the time in world. The whole while, the weight of what exactly you were doing hung heavy in the air. You were in a bed with James Buchanan Barnes, your coworker and friend, watching a porno and masturbating. You’d never done anything like it in your life. No one had ever been present when you touched yourself. Even when you were in relationships. Equally so, you’d never been present when someone else masturbated. At least, not to your knowledge. It was such an intimate act. Intimate and incredibly taboo.

Before you knew it, your eyes were closed, and you no longer cared about the television screen in front of you. No, instead you allowed yourself to get off to the erotic scene around you. Bucky’s heavy breathing filled your ears, the small catches and strained noises he made spurred you on. That combined with the wet sounds from your centered had you so hot that it felt like you could combust at any moment. Reaching further down, you slipped a single finger inside of you and moaned lightly at the feeling, unable to stop yourself and really not caring at this point. It’s not like he didn’t know what you were doing.

Out of instinct, your legs spread, knees pulling up as you fingered yourself. That’s when it happened, your left leg made contact with Bucky’s bare thigh. Without thinking, you reached out with your left hand towards him, apologizing as your palm landed on his hip. You both stilled. Opening your eyes, you turned your head and met Bucky’s eyes.

“I…I um,” you struggled for words as you took in what you had just done. God, you had ruined it, “Sorry, I’ll—”

You went to finally move your hand away but were surprised when a cold metal hand locked around your wrist. You stared into the depths of Bucky’s blue eyes. He looked hungry, desperate, pleading. Licking your lips, you followed his silent command, pressing your hand back and firmer against his hip right where the material of his boxers met the exposed skin of his midriff. He closed his eyes with a shuddered breath and let his head fall back against the pillow. You stared at him for a few moments more, watching the way the blankets shifted as his hand moved up and down over his length beneath them. Eyes tracing his profile, you realized just how good-looking Bucky was. His features were a delicate mix of hard and soft, feminine and masculine. His plump lips were parted in pleasure and heavy breaths passed his lips as he continued to pleasure himself. A few moments passed before you realized that you had resumed your ministrations under the blanket. You had been so swept up in watching Bucky that you hadn’t realized just how much of a mess you were. The slick between your legs was so great, your hand was soaked, slipping easily inside of you and throughout your folds. Bringing your hand up, you rubbed your clit lightly. Your left hand clenched, fingernails digging into Bucky’s hip.

“Fuck!” Bucky moaned, his head pressing into the pillow behind him, “Do that again,” he growled, his eyes closed tightly. You did as you were told, digging your nails into the exposed skin on his hip as you rubbed your clit. The sounds he made were so delectable, so erotic. They spurred you on, your own quiet moans falling from your lips. If you could make him moan like that from touching his hip, you couldn’t imagine the type of noises he’d make if you touched him. Actuallytouched him. Feeling bold, you slid your hand down until you reached him. Cautiously, you pushed his own hand away until it was only you wrapped around his hard length. The gorgeous man lying beside you gasped at the feel of your hand.

“Oh my god. Fuck, god!” he moaned, reaching out grasp your thigh in pleasure. His fingers dug into the flesh of your inner thigh, spurring on your own arousal. You now understood why the feeling of your hand on his hip had turned him on so much. The feeling of someone so close, but not quite there as you pleasured yourself was thrilling.

Bucky’s whines and moans filled the room, growing louder and more desperate as you continued to stroke him. Up and down. Up and down. You continued to pleasure yourself, your own orgasm rising and building. But it wasn’t nearly as important to you as getting Bucky there. You wanted to be the one to get him there. You wanted to hear the sweet noises he made when he finally toppled over the edge.

“Oh my god! Yes, yes, yes!” he growled out the last ‘yes’, the sound deep and guttural and oh so delicious. It pushed you further towards your own peak, but you wouldn’t, couldn’t finish until he did. You needed it. You released him, reaching your left hand in between your legs before returning it slick with your own arousal. Faster, you stroked him, twisting your wrist and swirling around the tip with just the right amount of pressure. The lubrication from your sex making it easier. Bucky seemed to agree as every muscle in his body seemed to tense. His fingernail dug into the delicate flesh of your thigh, sure to leave indentations later. But you didn’t care because with a few more harsh pulls, he was cumming. The warm wetness of his released covered your hand, dripping down your arm.

“Fuuuuuck yes! (Y/N) oh my god,” exclaimed Bucky.

The sensation of his warm seed mixed with the sound of his release sent you over the edge. You tensed, fingers stilling over your clit as you rode out your own orgasm. Electricity shooting throughout your whole body as you spasmed and shook.

The two of your lay there, catching your breath before you finally extricated your hand from Bucky’s softening erection. You let it fall onto the mattress beside you, your body heavy and satisfied. Bucky’s hand remained on your thigh, rubbing up and down soothingly. Turning your head, you found him already looking at you, a satisfied smile spread across his face.

“So, can we make that a regular part of hotel porno nights?” asked Bucky, causing you both to let out small chuckles.

“Yes. It’s definitely part of the ritual now.”

Everything Tag List:

@caffiend-queen

#fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #avengers #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #smut

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cblgblog · 3 years

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I'm curious about your take on Wakanda being wronged hard in FaTWS, and by Bucky specifically? I haven't seen many people talk about it, but I'm just angry and confused as to why Bucky was to careless and rude towards Ayo and the Dora Milaje, acting as if their anger about Zemo was an overreaction. Hell, Walker got more respect from him in the end than the Dora did

I'm looking at the writers' perspective here, it was their decision and I'm wondering why. What was the thought behind it? Why did they make Bucky so insensitive? At first I thought it had to be some arc, but nothing came from it. I'm wondering what made them look at this series and think "Yes, let's make Bucky screw over the people that helped him".

It wasn't just him wronging Wakanda, it was his behavior towards Sam too, how he was so ignorant during the cop scene, dismissive of Sam's feelings, and obsessed with the shield to a point of lashing out at Sam for things that weren't his fault. Why was this a choice that was made? Bucky didn't have much personality in the other movies, they could've done anything but they chose this, and I think more people should talk about how wrong that is. Not for Bucky, but for the black people in the series who were wronged.

Okay so here’s the deal. One, I’m white, so know that going in, take my take on this for whatever it’s worth accordingly. Two, I haven’t watched the eps since they aired, with the exception of a couple scenes, so my memory—not so much of events but of specific nuances of how Bucky reacted to them—isn’t fresh.

I say that last part specifically because of Bucky and his interactions with Sam, because ultimately they bother me much less than the Wakanda stuff, and here’s why. Bucky is, to varying degrees depending on situation and episode, a dick to Sam about the shield for most of the series. Undoubtedly. But I get that, to a point. He at least explains his feelings in 1x05, why he reacted like that, and admits he fucked up. He had all his feelings for Steve wrapped up, incorrectly, in that shield, so when Sam just tossed it aside (from Bucky’s perspective), it caused him to freak out/lash out. Which was never fair to Sam, but at least culminated in Bucky recognizing that. Sam keeps saying to him that the two of them have not lived the same experience, the shield and its legacy do not mean the same thing to them, and Bucky finally realizes that. He acknowledges that neither he nor Steve grasped the full reality of the situation, and he apologizes. Does that erase what came before? No, but it’s not supposed to. It’s him acknowledging his own ignorance and trying to do better.

So, at least there’s an arc there, which is the other reason his stuff with Sam bugged me less. There was an evolution in his thinking, there was a change from wah wah, you gave up the shield, to oh wait, I kinda get it now. He realizes that his reactions were wrong, even if his feelings were understandable. Which, on a human level, I think they were. It’s a very human thing for Bucky to equate that shield directly to Steve, and take Sam’s rejection of it as a rejection of Steve. It’s understandable how he got there, given the bizarre nature of Steve’s time travel shenanigans, the nearly endless nightmare that Bucky’s life has been since he fell from the train. Losing yet another 5 years when he’s already lost 70+, all the unprocessed guilt and grief that isn’t helped by him having actually the worst therapist ever, oh my God this woman sucks at her job, she’s funny, but she’s awful. His feelings, I believe, were valid, given everything that went down. His reaction to them—the lashing out, whining, refusing to see Sam’s side of it—his reaction was not valid. But at least he gets to a point where he realizes that. At least there’s an arc.

Could they have found a different way to create conflict in the series? Sure, and I’m not gonna argue with anyone who wishes they had. For me personally, I was okay with it. Bucky’s ignorance and misplaced anger made sense to me. Bit of an aside, one of the few scenes I rewatched for this (because Youtube and knowing exactly where it was) was the cop scene, because you referenced. I’m assuming you mean the bit where Sam gets stopped, gets the ‘calm down sir’ treatment. I didn’t think Bucky was a dick in that scene? He seemed aware of what was happening, given his angry, “No he’s not bothering me, do you know who this is?” It’s actually one of a relatively few instances in the first 5 eps where Bucky does seem genuinely aware that he and Sam don’t live in the same world, even when they’re walking the same street, right next to each other. So, as far as illustrating that, and Bucky coming out of his own feelings long enough to pay attention to Sam’s, I thought it was one of the better scenes.

So, Sam and Bucky, I’m less bothered by. Bucky and Wakanda? That’s a hot garbage fire.

Zemo’s whole inclusion here, and nearly everything related to it, was incredibly botched. He’s randomly rich as fuck now, and a Baron, to match his comics counterpart. Which is not only an incredibly lazy retcon, it kills much of what made his character interesting in CW. In that movie, it was one guy, working alone, limited resources, dedicating himself to his cause. If nothing else, you had to admire his tenacity. Now suddenly he’s got a butler and a plane and piles of cash? Where was that in CW? More importantly…why? What purpose did it serve, besides making him more superficially similar to his comic self?

Why did we detour to him at all? None of his plans ultimately affect the larger narrative all that much. He starts out in prison and…ends up back in prison. Why? Why would the Dora just leave him there? Ayo says that they will bring Zemo back to face Wakandan justice…and then they just don’t. They leave him in the hands of the same people who lost him to two random dudes who were able to bust him out of prison on their own, one of those dudes being an entirely human guy, no enhanced powers, no Serum. In CW, okay, T’Challa did a deal with Everett Ross I guess, fine. But once the Americans proved they couldn’t hold him, it made no sense that the Dora would just go, okay, here you go again. They aren’t Batman. They have no reason to keep throwing the baddies in Arkham Asylum to wait ‘til next week when someone breaks out again.

The Zemo stuff had no arc to it. The only worthwhile thing was Bucky proving to Zemo that he can’t be controlled anymore, but that scene could have come about in a million better ways than it did. Ultimately, the weird little team-up with Zemo feels very cliché and contrived. It feels like a trip down a side road that dead ends to nowhere. It feels like filler, which is a particularly terrible crime when there’s only 6 episodes in the damn season.

Bucky’s dickishness towards Ayo and the other Dora really is baffling, especially when the writers went out of their way to give us that flashback, a direct, show don’t tell indication of all the Wakandans did for him. And it’s not his feelings for Steve that have him acting out this way, or at least it shouldn’t be. Steve has nothing to do with this aspect of things. Steve obviously had trust in and respect for T’Challa, and there’s no reason to think that wouldn’t extend to the Dora as well. Strong, badass women who put it all on the line for their country? Yeah, Steve should/would get that. He would have broken Zemo out of prison, if he thought it was the right call to make, but he also would’ve been like yeah, I did that, I understand that I fucked you over, I’m fully prepared to accept the consequences of that once my mission is complete, I’m sorry it went down like this. See the, “I’d like to surrender myself for disciplinary action,” he gives Phillips in First Avenger, after he goes to rescue the 107th. If it’s an authority he respects and acknowledges as having good intentions (Phillips as opposed to the Accords), Steve will ultimately give that respect back, even if he goes off to do his own thing first. He respected T’Challa and Wakanda. Bucky should have respected them even more, given his more direct connection, given the flashback scene in FatWS, given his acknowledgement that Wakanda and it’s people gave him a rare respite, a calm in the shit storm that’s been his life since 1945.

So yeah, it doesn’t make sense that he was so flippant and dismissive towards Ayo and the rest. It makes even less sense that they put up with it. It’s bad writing, that’s all I’ve got. The show is incredibly irritating, in that a lot of the plot-driven stuff is pretty fucking awful, but most of the character study stuff for Sam and Bucky is so good.

#Fatws #falcon and the winter soldier #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson

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existing-on-cloral · 4 years

Text

Brooklyn’s Night Terrors

Chapter Eight: Keep Away

You and Steve continue your odd affair during your 'recovery time'. Meanwhile, Peter and Bucky begin to train Pietro for life as an Avenger. A full-scale Stark-level party thrown by Pepper brings around an opportunity for relaxation.

It had been one week since you and Steve had come back from the Reaper's labyrinth coated in her poison. One week since Pietro had reentered the lives of the Avengers. And one week since the most amazingly mind-blowing sex you'd ever had. Steve had come and found you the next day, after you went back to work, and bent you over your desk. You dreamed of him almost every night, and woke up to the dawn, realizing that it had only been a dream.

Like today.

Your eyes opened to the sun streaming in through thin curtains. The room was quiet, and the sheets were comfortable on your bare skin, and the arm thrown over you was warm...

"Steve?" you gasped, remembering where you were and that you were most certainly not dreaming. "Steve?"

Steve's arm shifted across your waist, his breath tickling your neck. "Morning," he whispered, cuddling closer to you. "How do you feel?"

"Good. Really good," you said, twisting around to face him. His eyes searched yours as he pulled you into a kiss, sliding his thigh between yours. "Steve, we just did this last night."

"And I want to do it again," Steve mumbled, blinking sleep out of his eyes. "C'mon, baby, morning wood's a thing and since you're here..."

You sighed. Super soldier stamina meant insatiable habits. "Steve, don't you want breakfast first?"

Steve kissed down your neck, making his way to your breasts and closing his mouth over one. "I'll handle that," he joked, squeezing your hips gently. "Just let me make you feel good."

After about two seconds of Steve's tongue working magic on your chest, you relented. "Okay, but I have to go to work in about five..." You trailed off as Steve made his way lower, kissing at the inside of your thigh. "...minutes."

"I'll make you cum in one. Time me." Steve licked a stripe up your entrance, dipping his tongue into you. "I'm serious."

Laughing, you reached for your phone and went to the clock app, setting your finger over the stopwatch. "And, go!"

Steve went absolute nuts, diving between your legs and licking up your wetness greedily. "Baby..." he rumbled, low in his chest, and his voice sent vibrations through your whole body. You could already feel yourself drawing towards a fast orgasm. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, darting out his tongue to lick over you again, then with a final lick all the way up your cunt, you fell over the edge and came, hard.

"Steve!" you cried, arching your back into his hands as he ate you out through your orgasm. His hand reached out and stopped your stopwatch, and as he lifted his face from between your legs, he picked up your phone and grinned.

"Doll, look at this," he said. You were panting, completely flushed underneath him, but you raised your head enough to look at the screen, which flashed 58.25 seconds. "That was the fastest I've seen you come apart like that."

You smiled up at him, untangling your legs from his and climbing out of the bed. "I know, I get it." While collecting your clothes from the floor, you looked back at him and grinned mischievously. "I bet you could..."

"Do that all day?" Steve cut you off, laughter bubbling up low in his chest. "I could. You're so sweet, doll." He climbed out of bed and walked towards you, leaning down to steal another kiss. "You're so good to me."

Pressing your lips to his again, you reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair, gently pulling him back. "Steve... I gotta... I gotta go to work... Madwoman terrorizing New York and all that."

Steve nodded, stepping back. "You'll be back here later, I guess?"

"Yeah." You dressed hurriedly, keeping an eye on Steve. "I'll... I'll see you tonight."

Without further ado, you hurried out of the apartment, slamming the door behind you. "Fuck," you cursed, checking your phone for the time. "I'm gonna be late." Darting down the hallway of Steve's new apartment building, you ran to the "borrowed" company car, changed clothes in the backseat, and started the ignition.

"Hello."

You screamed at the appearance of a red mask in your backseat. "Who the fuck-!"

Peter slammed a hand over your mouth. "Relax, I'm not gonna kidnap you. I'm not the freaking Reaper or anything." He gave you a smile in the rearview mirror that seemed more mad than genuine. "I just needed a ride to HQ and I recognized the car you picked me up in."

"Why are you even here, Peter?" you asked, slowly prying his hand off your face.

"I was coming by to see Steve about my history project that I'm doing for school, and then hopefully snag a ride from him, but then I saw your car was here so I just figured I'd wait for you." His smile swung from mad to innocent, then to devious. "What were you doing over here?"

Blushing, you got out your keys to start your car. "I needed to run some files by Captain Rogers."

"Where are the files?"

"How did you even get in my car anyway?"

"It was unlocked for some reason, and, by the way, your shirt is on inside out."

You cursed under your breath, buckling your seatbelt. "Parker, I..."

Peter sat back in his seat. "I am seventeen, not stupid. I know why you were there. Look, if you're dating Steve, that's fine, and I'll keep it a secret, but don't you think it's better to go public with it?"

"We're not dating," you said, putting the car in reverse and driving off.

"But you're definitely fucking," Peter joked. When you made no comment, his eyes widened. "Oh, shit. I didn't mean..."

"I know, Peter." Your hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Can you still keep it a secret? We don't... We're just..." You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "Steve and I have a lot going on and it's a good way to get rid of some of the stress of all this... insanity."

Peter shrugged. "But is it healthy?" He leaned forward, crossing his arms over his thighs. "I know how these things work, I've read too many of Aunt May's books. I'm telling you, somebody's gonna catch them feels."

You kept your eyes on the road, focusing on driving. "Why are you going to HQ? I thought they transferred you upstate yesterday."

"Change of plan." Peter's relaxed form screamed casual, but suspicious. "Bucky specifically requested that I stay here so I could help train Pietro. After a few hours of Wii Sports, you really get to know someone."

"Wii Sports... You know what, Parker, I'm not even gonna question it." You looked in the rearview mirror. "And buckle up! Safety first."

Peter smirked. "Tell that to your precious Captain I-Don't-Need-A-Parachute Rogers."

"Shut it."

"Don't tell Bucky."

"I won't, I promise."

You and Peter entered the gym to see Pietro and Bucky already sparring. Bucky made some comment in what sounded like Russian and Pietro responded with some more words that were total gibberish to you. "Do you know what they're saying?"

"No idea," Peter said. He rushed into the gym, waving to Bucky and giving Pietro a quick hug before going to the rack of weights and waving the other boy over. You smiled, watching the two talk about exercise and whatever. Peter was truly a special boy, and you made a mental note to send a thank-you note to May for raising him right.

"Why's your shirt inside out?" Bucky asked. You jumped, not having noticed him coming over to you.

You laughed, faking embarrassment. "Got dressed in the dark cause my power went out. I'll go fix it."

Bucky shrugged. "If that's your story. Who's the guy? Or girl, I don't judge."

"There is no guy or girl, Bucky," you said, turning away. Bucky whirled you back around.

"C'mon. You can trust me. I'll keep it a secret. But I gotta tell you," he winked conspiratorially, "between you and me, Stevie's got a bad crush on you. He came to me for advice about it."

Your heart fell into your stomach. "He what?"

Bucky patted your head, ruffling your hair. "You didn't hear it from me!" He dropped his hand and gave you a look. "Last time I saw that glow in your cheeks, you were leaving the compound with Sam for... Was it coffee?"

The reminder that if you got Sam back, this thing with Steve would have to end in fairness to him hit you again. "Yeah, coffee," you said. Bucky shrugged.

"Well. We're doing our best to get him back from the Reaper. I'm just scared that-"

"Hey! Mr. Barnes!" Peter was bench pressing. Not the bar, the bench press machine itself. "Check this out!"

Bucky shook his head. "Rain check on this conversation. I'll catch you later. Gotta make sure the kid doesn't kill himself." He turned to go, then stopped and pointed at your chest. "Fix the shirt. Sharon'll ask." Then he was gone, jogging over to the boys and making a show of bench pressing the machine with his metal arm.

You left the three laughing and pretending to be bodybuilders or something, headed for the bathroom first, then your office. It was going to be a long day.

"You know, if we configure the time machine in her lab so that it only sends her to a specific point in time and a specific place... and then put a tracker on the machine..." You trailed off, pointing to a couple of your team's equations on the board.

"That could work," your lead mathematician, Molly, piped up. "If I'm correct, a trip through the quantum realm is roughly 38 seconds per person?"

Drake, the physicist, rolled his eyes. "Mols. It's 38.5749 seconds. We don't deal in roughly."

A loud cough came from the opposite whiteboard, followed by a muffled, "Get a room!" Your slightly dirty-minded chemistry expert, Daniel, grinned from behind his closed fist.

The team laughed, making fun of the two who, honestly, should just date. "Y'all." You clapped your hands for attention. "Let's focus. Yes, Drake, it's 38.5749 seconds. For the sake of saving the Avengers time..." You wrote 39 on the board. "39 seconds. To me, this means that we need a notification about ten minutes before-"

"Can I interrupt?" Sharon knocked on the open door. "Sorry, it's just... Ms. Potts said that I'm supposed to make the rounds and tell everyone about the party. It's Friday night, to boost company morale.”

"Ha, Friday," Daniel joked.

"Like the AI." Molly said dreamily. Drake smiled at her and you winced. Fucking get a room, dammit!

Sharon pulled a piece of paper out of her jacket pocket, unfolding it. "She also said that dates are optional, but recommended, especially for certain agents." No one, except for the ever-oblivious Drake and Molly (of fucking course), missed her cold stare towards the two. "And it's mandatory." This time, her gaze fixed on you. "You have to log at least an hour in."

You gave a theatrical groan. "Sharon..."

"Doctor Workaholic won't need a date, she's married to her work already!" Daniel laughed at his joke, and, unfortunately, everyone joined in.

"That's enough, Dan," you said, pointing at him with your marker. "We have to finish these before noon."

Sharon saluted the group with a nod, winked at you, mouthed 'If you don't ask Rogers, I will', and then left.

You gritted your teeth and turned back to the board. "As I was saying. We need ten minutes because we have to wake up the Avengers who are staying here, get them ready, and get them in the time machine at least one second before the Reaper enters hers."

The rest of the morning was spent answering questions, finalizing calculations, and then finishing plans to work on the information Steve and Peter had returned with. Still, you had other things on your mind. Like Steve. And Sharon's threat promise. And Steve again. And Steve's...

You shook yourself out of your daze and hurried out of the room at lunch. The cafeteria was pretty much empty, as usual, due to everyone grabbing their meals and bringing them back to their desks. Your team, however, was required to take a break every day. You headed for the team's usual table, but saw a hand waving out of the corner of your eye. You turned to the booths in the corner of the caf and spotted Peter, arm raised, waving you over. Giving your team a nod and a promise to join them tomorrow, you headed over to Peter's table.

"What's up, Pete?" you asked, sliding into the other side of the booth.

Peter clenched his fists, almost decapitating his muffin. "You heard about the party, right?" He bounced in his seat, shaking the table.

"Sharon interrupted a very important discussion to tell us, yeah. Why?"

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Well, I wanna ask someone," he muttered. "And I know you do some setups among the scientists, so I was wondering if you could help me."

So the rumors of Doctor Matchmaker did get around. "I may have dabbled in Cupid's field a bit," you teased. "What, did Wanda finally catch your eye?"

Peter stuck his tongue out, then blurted, "More like her brother."

You gasped. "Peter! Oh, this is so cute." You took out your phone and snapped a picture of his blushing face. "This is blackmail for later. You're gonna get this done by tomorrow at four o'clock or I'm sending this to Pietro."

"Nononononono, I'll do whatever you say, just don't send that!" Peter tried to grab your phone but you yanked it back. His hand fell to the table and, unfortunately, this time did decapitate the muffin.

"Okay, so you want to ask this guy out and you met him..."

"One week ago." Peter's shoulders slumped. "I'm doomed."

You shook your head. "No, Pete. It's normal to crush on people quickly."

"Very normal. And then it proceeds to..." He made a hole with his right thumb and forefinger and slid his left finger into it, giggling like a teenager. (Well, he is a teenager.)

"No. Special cases. Not yours. Let's talk strategy." Right now, the Reaper could go fuck herself. You wanted a normal life for just a little longer.

As a plan began to form in your mind for Peter, another one took shape. Bucky's words from earlier had hit you a little harder than you'd like to admit. If Peter was right...

Maybe taking another someone to the party would help you prove it, one way or another.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader

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clusterthoughts · 5 years

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My take on Avengers: Endgame **SPOILERS AHEAD**

To get the ball rolling, I’m gonna start with the bits I didn’t like just because overall I fucking loved Endgame and I’d like to end on a positive note. But just because I loved it does not mean I am not well accustomed to Marvel giving me holes to pick at. STEVE’S ENDING When I first watched it; it rubbed me up the wrong way. Now I’m actually mad about it. Don’t get me wrong - I knew they had to find a way to write out Steve Rogers but literally anything else wouldn’t have shit on years of character development. Fans: clearly Steve and Bucky would be the only natural romantic partners for each other Marvel: romantic love is not the be-all-and-end-all. Friendship is just as important Fans: okay well can you give Steve and Bucky solid screen time as friends? Marvel: sTEVE NEEDS TO BE WITH PEGGY THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND TO ABANDON ALL HIS FRIENDS FOR IT Fans: ...k I recognise that Steve’s trauma was that he felt like his life had happened without him and he had left behind the love of his life and honestly: fair. I’m Stucky trash all day long but I know the fucking company I’m dealing with here. I’d have accepted The Power Of Friendship with open arms. But a major part of both Steve and Peggy’s on-screen storyline was accepting that they needed to make the most of the life they had now and move on. Significant portions of their screen time was dedicated to that healing process. Steve created a life for himself in the future. He had a found-family (despite Marvel continuously found-family baiting us but I’m being considerate to their established shitehawkery here) he had friends and a purpose. But the main thing of note here is that Steve and Bucky’s friendship was constantly painted as the single most important thing to them. It was enough to pull Bucky out of seven decades of mind control. It was enough to make Steve drop everything (including Tony) to go and find him. They are with each other ‘till the end of the line. Steve Rogers is a man out of time but so is Bucky Barnes. Except Bucky spent the whole time being tortured and used as a murder machine. I refuse to believe that Steve would just leave him alone in the future. And he is alone because there has been zero suggestion that Bucky has a relationship with anyone except maybe Shuri and the Sam and Bucky being friends thing is just here now and we must like it or else (I love it but give me context damnit) And I know that Bucky knew what Steve was going to do because he told Steve he would miss him even though as far as they were concerned he was only going to be gone for five seconds but they, at the very very least, could have shown them having that conversation. The other parts of this that completely fly in the face of Steve’s character development: everyone lost someone. Everyone. Why does Steve get a do-over? Tony doesn’t get a future and Nat doesn’t get a future. Why does Steve get a new one? In what world would Steve comfortably accept either of those things? Peggy moved on and got married and by Steve re-writing how the timeline occurred he denied a women he respects and admires her autonomy. Finally, Marvel really expects me to believe that Steve ‘If I see a situation pointed south, I can't ignore it’ Rogers goes back to the 40’s and knows Bucky is alive and being actively tortured, knows HYDRA is in SHEILD, knows the Starks are going to be assassinated, knows Nat is in the Red Room and just... does nothing. The Russo Brothers wanted a Steve and Peggy ending from the start, and even when it became obvious that it wasn’t what the fans wanted, they refused to let go. Steve’s ending would have been very sweet if he was any other type of person but he wasn’t. It makes no sense at all to his character development and everyone involved deserved better. Speaking of deserved better... NATASHA’S ENDING This wouldn’t have left such a bitter taste in my mouth had Nat ever, even once, been treated with respect in this franchise. In terms of storyline I’ll admit it made sense. Someone had to die for the soul stone. It had to involve two people who loved each other. And I most certainly didn’t see it coming and the audible sobbing from the audience would back that up. It would have been heartbreaking had Nat been a well loved, well respected character. But she wasn’t. Nat was used as an eye-candy prop for Tony. She was the first person who really tried to be there for a struggling Steve. She was shoehorned into the role of Bruce’s love interest. She gave Clint his atonement. The five years where she worked through her grief were done offscreen despite them being recorded. Her skill set was not shown in this movie in lieu of giving her emotional depth. Yet she was left alone for years to believe that she was some type of monster who didn’t deserve nice things. That she had to dedicate her life, and then give her life, to redemption she no longer needed by any merit applied to the men of the franchise. If you consider the movie as a stand-alone it was a necessary evil but realistically Marvel never did right by her right until the very end. As much as I hate Marvel’s dedication to romantic love being the only motivator; traumatised women needing to sacrifice themselves to be worth anything at all is worse. Natasha’s story never belonged to her and that’s what makes her ending bitter as opposed to just sad. NOW ONTO THE THINGS I LOVED Tony and Nebula’s interactions were so sweet. It really just solidifies how much of a good guy Tony is and it’s nice to see someone treat Nebula like a decent person who just needs some love for once. I have seen a lot of people complain about Thor’s storyline but I actually agreed with the decision made. I am not necessarily thrilled with the execution - the ball was dropped because the Russo’s aren’t Taika Waitti so the humour was clearly a copycat attempt and the fat jokes were overdone. Also handing New Asgard over to Valkyrie I liked but it was really throwaway. The reasons I’m not including it in my Things I Didn’t Like List is: Firstly, Hemsworth specifically looked for Thor to become comedic relief because he didn’t agree with how stiff Thor had been presented in the beginning. Thor’s mother died. His father died. His brother died. His best friend died. His home was destroyed. Half his people died. AND THEN the snap happened. Thor felt personally responsible for everything. During the fight in infinity war, for everybody else is was prevention, but for Thor is was already revenge. Only for them to lose which, as far as Thor is concerned and for all that he’ll believe, is because he should have gone for the head. And people just??? Expected him??? To be fine??? Accurate depressive episode is accurate. And I’m so glad he got to speak to Frigga. Firstly because I love her and secondly because she was dead right. You’ll always fail at being the person you are supposed to be. Thor has to make peace with the person he wants to be. (On a side note: Frigga and my therapist would be friends) Also when he killed Thanos the first time I heard someone in the cinema say “they do know this is a 3 hour movie right?” And I was inclined to agree. Gotta give this movie props for never having me feel like I could guess what was gonna happen next despite me being able to guess what was gonna happen next. Brilliant writing. I love Scott Lang. I don’t have much to say about that. He is a great dad, super funny, blends well with the others, when he got super big I whooped. His reunion with Hope was actually perfectly sweet without taking away from the mission. This is a We Love Scott Lang Zone only. The scene where the push time through him was hilarious. I did not see the Banner/Hulk thing coming and equally did not realise how much I needed it. Super funny and good for him for embracing both. Tony! Stark! As! A! Dad! Jesus wept it was so much more wholesome than I ever could have hoped for. I can’t even pick out one part it was all perfection. I love you 3000, Tony Stark. Hawkeye. My baby boy. I love him to death and I am purposely ignoring his time as a big ol murderer. It was very very extra wrong but leave me alone. I was glad he was given more screen time in this movie. I recognise that Rocket isn’t strictly speaking a “real” “person” but I enjoyed him so immensely in this movie. Him and Nebula holding hands just knocks me every time. KORG!!! I would give this movie 10/10 exclusively because Korg was in it. I truly loved the scene where Tony figures out time travel and I’m also very glad that instead of Pepper putting the foot down because he had a family now and he promised so many times he’d give it all up she knows that he’ll never rest and he needs to do this whatever the cost (sob) Rhodey’s A1 time travel humour ~chefs kiss~ I! FUCKING! LOVED! EVERYTHING! ABOUT! THEM! GOING! BACK! TO! NEW! YORK! AAAHHH! Hulk and the stairs!!! I genuinely yelped when Steve said “hail hydra” that was genius spec!!! “You’ve got to be shitting me” STEVEN GRANT ROGERS!!! “I can do this all day” “yeah, yeah, I know” was fucking hilarious!!! “Bucky... is... alive” further yelping on my part!!! “That is America’s ass” and all Steve/Tony/Scott interactions about America’s ass were just great!!! Thor using the hammer to restart Tony’s heart!!! Loki where u gone!!! “Do you trust me?” “I do”!!! 1970’s WOO TIME-TRAVEL ROAD TRIP Hey, Stan Lee I just love Tony/Steve scenes (Civil War? Never heard of him?) they bring me true, unadulterated joy Everything about Howard and Tony’s interaction was so wholesome I think I need to take a shower in dirt to counteract it Peggy Carter you are an agent and you mean to tell me that 220lbs of Prime American Beef can just stand in front of you and you don’t even see it out the corner of your eye? LOOK UP, DAMNIT (If you have your reunion now the dickhead might not go ba- sorry, sorry. Where was I?) JARVIS!!! Can someone please for fucks sake give Nebula a break? Mediocre Natasha mourning is mediocre (sorry x2) YES BRUCE YOU BEAUTIFUL SONOVABITCH aaaaaand Yikes! (Poor Rocket did not sign up for this shit at all) (Gamora is too good for these fuckos) When I asked for someone to give Nebula a break I didn’t meAN FOR FUCKING NEBULA TO DO IT Everything about the Steve/Tony/Thor v Thanos fight scene was so ~deep inhale~ aesthetic but... *WHEN STEVE USED MJØLNIR I WAS READY TO GODDAMN RIOT. HOLY FUCK. WHAT A SCENE. WHAT A MAN. IVE HAD SEX THAT DIDNT GIVE ME AS MUCH SATISFACTION. I WOULD HAVE THAT MOMENT TATTOOED INSIDE MY EYELIDS IF I COULD. EVERY TIME I REMEMBER IT MY BRAIN MAKES THIS NOISE: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ~ahem~

FUCK OFF AWAY FROM THE SHEILD THANOS The scene where Thano’s army is charging in from the dark clouds and you can see Steve standing in front of the sun is so beautiful I’d marry it. I don’t have the right vocabulary for how beautiful that was but fuck me Sam: on your left Me: ~pterodactyl screech~ Honest to fuck it was a moment of sheer magic seeing everyone come back (I made grabby hands during everyone’s return) Next, I’ll quote a girl I met in the toilets after the movie - “If I marry the man of my dreams, have beautiful children, and die in my sleep at the age of 99 I still won’t be as happy as when Steve said ‘Avengers Assemble’” Girl, same. Fucking same. It was erotic and I’m genuinely fearful Marvel will never produce as magnificent a line again. TONY AND PETER I shed a tear at how sweet that was. I need back into the dirt shower. Their hug!!! Peter’s babbling!!! Tony’s whole face!!! CAPTAIN MARVEL. I’ve got to give this credit. I love Captain Marvel. I think Brie Larson is a god amongst men but I really didn’t want the movie to be about her and how she saves the day. That would really take away from all the years of hard work done by the original six and it really wasn’t her fight the way it was to everyone else. The amount she was involved and the way she was involved was truly perfect in my opinion. It was the edge they needed but no one was overlooked in the process. I was really very happy about this. The girl power scene was probably pandering but I don’t give a fuck I was well and truly pandered The team work for that fight scene was magnificent, the pacing was magnificent, the visuals were magnificent. BE-YOU-TEA-FULL When Thanos got the stones like honestly Russo Bothers you had me there. I fully panicked Doctor Strange’s lil finger. Remarkable. I’m gonna take this moment to say: the call backs they did to old scenes and old lines in the franchise were really tasteful and well done. This always felt like the accumulation of years of work and I’ve got to applaud it. TONY MOTHERFUCKING STARK, FRIENDS!!! You funky little maniac. I AM IRON MAN!!!!!! AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!! But oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck I knew this was going to happen but that did not make it hurt any less. There was open crying at this point in the cinema. It was the perfect death for him, to be honest. If it had to happen I’m so glad it was like this. Full circle. Honourable. Surrounded by those who loved him. Part of the journey is the end and I LOVE YOU 3000 I am going to miss Tony beyond belief. His funeral was stunning. I am so glad literally everyone was there (HEY HARLEY). Great symbolism for it being a funeral for the Avengers as we know it, too. Also Happy’s interaction with Morgan was so soft I have melted. I am no longer here. And finally, Sam Wilson Is Captain America AS! IT! SHOULD! BE! I would like to thank the academy, Jesus, and whoever took over Steve Rogers considering the Steve we know would never have gone ba- SORRY X3

#Avengers endgame spoilers #endgame spoilers #a4 spoilers

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