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arthurjdrake · 4 years

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Timing: Prior to the pie contest. Parties: @chasseurdeloup & Arthur Place: Arthur's House. Summary: Wanting to size up the competition, Kaden tracks a rather evasive bird.

Arthur stood in his kitchen, humming along to the tune playing out of the nearby speaker while occupied in the task of rolling out the pie dough, his old wooden rolling pin clacking at both ends with each smooth press and turn of the dough. There was no recipe on the counter, just a collection of potential combinations for fillings that he would test as he went. His baking never had really been about having a plan. Plans often went awry, and part of the fun was figuring it out as you went. It was cathartic and rather soothing, the smooth roll of the wood over the flour-dusted counter. Things had started to get back into a rhythm now that he was out of hospital. There were still jobs around the house that needed doing. Clean-up after the mime attack was still a current issue in the back of his mind in the form of the dark black marks on his white-oak floorboards. It was going to cost an arm and a leg to replace, but it needed to be done. He was just about to begin the process of draping the dough across the pie plate when he heard it - a loud crash outside. His heart leapt, suddenly trip-hammering as he glanced out the window while reaching for the nearby wooden knife rack. He stood silent and vigil waiting to hear if anything followed.

There were too many things going to shit in Kaden’s life. He just wanted to feel in control of one thing. One stupid tiny thing to go in his favor. The pie contest, he might lose, sure, but he needed to know the competition as best he could. And he knew exactly who his competition was. Arthur and his “incredible” pies. Maybe it was stupid to go and spy on the guy to see what he was making but he couldn’t get any intel online. And he was in the area. It was fine. He had an assignment around the corner, nothing about this was suspicious. Kaden tried to peek in the window from across the way, just to maybe see what fruit was there on the counter, one hint. But he couldn’t see much. Just that someone who was vaguely Arthur shaped was inside and doing things. Putain. He’d have to get closer. With a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, he crept closer to the window. The competition was baking. Perfect. If he had any qualms about getting even closer, they were gone now. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice. And if he did, Kaden would just claim there was a raccoon or something. He found a sizable rock and stepped on top, trying to get a better angle. As he stretched out his body, reaching to see a little more, he felt a sting of pain in his side. Fuck, still healing, he forgot. He stumbled and lost his balance, reaching out for anything to catch his fall. There was nothing, but he did crash into the watering can and other gardening supplies there on the lawn. The clash was not subtle. Shit. Maybe he could sneak away unnoticed. He went to stand up and his side screamed in pain. Well, guess running away wasn’t an option.

Arthur wasn’t one for gardening, spending excessive amounts of time outdoors digging around in dirt wasn’t really his idea of a good time. But Mercy had been insistent on coming over and working on the rather sad looking flowerbeds. Whether this was just another excuse to keep an eye on him, he wasn’t sure, but there was no harm in it and if it kept her from fussing then there was no real need to be concerned. The one thing was, she never put the damn tools away after she was done with them; preferring to leave them out by the side of the house for ease of access the next time she came. He couldn’t always be bothered to put them away and today it seemed they were also another layer of announcement that something was outside. Grabbing his phone off the counter and cancelling the music, he kept the small paring knife handy as he headed for the side door. Slipping on the pair of shoes there he unlocked the door and stepped outside peering around curiously. It was probably just some animal, best to check the bins anyway, he was just walking round the side path when he came upon a very human sized shape on the ground and his eyebrows rose towards his hairline as did the knife just a fraction. “What the--?” He stared at the figure until he recognised just who it was on the ground and the knife lowered, “Kaden? What are you doing down there?”

Kaden was in the middle of trying to push himself up when he saw Arthur running out with a knife. Putain. He almost flopped back over in pure defeat. This was at best embarrassing and at worst very fucking bad. “Uh, hi. Sorry about the,” he started as he got onto his knees and looked over at the flower beds and gardening supplies. It was all a mess to say the least. Pretty sure something was a little trampled. He tried to clumsily rearrange things, fumbling to put the tools back in place, but they mostly just fell and clanged around some more. As he stood, he tried to fluff back up one of the plants and it simply sagged. Right. Fuck. That wasn’t working so he stood instead, wincing in pain as he did. “There was-- Hi. Right. I was called out to look for a, um, a lost… bird. A bird. And I thought I saw it over… there.” He whirled around and pointed off in a direction with almost no trees. Great. “I’m sorry. I know this is private property. I’m overstepping. I just got a little carried away. Thought I almost had him.” It ws then Kaden realized he didn’t have a single fucking thing on him tocatch any animal at all. Let alone a bird. No cage. No net. Putain.

Arthur lowered the knife gripped tightly in his hand when he saw the sprawled form of the other man on the floor outside. He remained in the doorway, looking rather perplexed as Kaden began to try and get up out of the righteous mess of gardening supplies outside. “Ah lort,” he muttered under his breath at the sight of the trampled flower beds. He’d have to explain that one to Mercy. She wouldn’t be impressed even as Kaden tried to pet the leaves back upright where they drooped sadly in place. “A bird?” he repeated giving Kaden a curious look, following the point of his finger towards the distance. “Then if you saw it over there…” he nodded in the referenced direction, before his gaze returned to Kaden by the trampled flower beds “why are you over here?” It seemed rather suspicious. And the slow way he seemed to contemplate the issue seemed to give away his mind was on a similar track to where Kaden had concluded “it’s fine..., But would you not like… need something to catch a bird? A net or a cage or something? They can’t be easy to catch by hand…”

Putain de merde . This was a disaster. Kaden should turn and run. Just run. It’d be easier. But no, he couldn’t without immense pain. Were his wounds bleeding? Shit, they were definitely bleeding a little. Putain. “It, uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to figure out how to explain it. “It was over here. First. Almost had it. Flew away. As birds… do.” He was going to get stabbed or get the police called on him. Sure, alright, he was the police. Kind of. Not sure it counted right now. “You’re right. I do need that. Wow, I cannot believe I forgot that. I am going to go. Now. And go get that. From my car. Which is not here. It’s somewhere else.” He thought he might be able to inch away but, uh, well he was here. “You’re alright, though? Bird was’t, uh bothering you? Are you working on that pie now? Think i may have seen you in the kitchen. Not that I was looking.” Smooth. Very smooth. He should still try to run.

Arthur remained on the top step that led down to the path beside the garden. There was no denying the fact Kaden seemed to be in pain and as he reached a hand back to scratch his neck Arthur noticed some specks of red beginning to faintly stain the material. He noted it mentally but didn’t remark. “Did you get hurt in the fall?” there was a minor note of concern even with the suspicion as to why Kaden was here. Even with the strange way the man was acting, Arthur could rather easily set aside smaller issues for more pressing matters which in his mind injury constituted. What a strange man. “Hm? Oh, yeah I’m fine… No, no didn’t hear anything ‘til your tumble… Strange… I wonder what it was doing over here...” his head cocked a little glancing over his shoulder for a moment before his eyes flickered to the window, the rock and back to Kaden. A quick assessment of how Kaden had fallen considering which plants had been squashed and Kaden’s own very badly concealed self-confirmation gave him all the answers he needed. So he wanted to play it off as a bird incident? Well, two could play at that game. “I was. Decided to keep things simple… Did you want a drink or something? Coffee or tea? That sounded like a fair fall you took… Must’ve hurt.”

“Hmm? Oh, this?” Kaden said as he looked down at his wounds. Fuck, that looked worse then he’d hoped. “Nah, got it on the job a few days ago. Big angry animal. Teeth. Claws. This just reopened it is all.” He tried to step to the side a little. Just one step to angle himself farther away from the house. Maybe it’d give him an out to leave. He could lie. Say he saw the bird. Even though he was fairly positive Arthur would never buy it. Not that he would either if he were in his shoes. Then he saw the realization wash over the other man’s face and he tried not to wince too badly. Damn smart bastard. He was really ready to book it when Arthur invited him in. Kaden’s brow creased and his head tilted slightly. Not what he saw coming. “Oh, uh, I don’t mean to intru--” Too late for that. But then a thought hit him. He could spy a lot easier from inside the house. “Actually, uh, yeah. I would. If you’re sure. It’d be nice to wipe this down at least,” he said, gesturing to his shirt, indicating the wounds underneath. “Sorry to waste your time like this.” The guy was nicer than he expected. Which only dug under his skin a little.

“Ouch,” Arthur winced as Kaden explained about this big bad animal he’d had to deal with, there was genuine sympathy in the look. In all honesty, even if Kaden was here for the reason Arthur suspected it didn’t mean he couldn’t equally be concerned about the blood that seemed to be staining the fabric. “I think we’re a bit past that point,” Arthur waved off the beginnings of his protest, if Kaden didn’t mean to intrude he wouldn’t be a hundred meters from the main road around the back of Arthur’s house without having first knocked on the door to announce his presence. But that was neither here nor there really. “Don’t worry about it,” he backed up, leaving the door open for Kaden to follow. The double french-doors opened immediately into an open-plan living-kitchen diner area, warm and homely with plenty of windows to let light shine in and illuminate the space naturally while offering views of the ocean beyond. “There’s a bathroom just past the pantry, first aid kit’s in the cupboard beneath the sink. Should have some stuff in there you can use.” He made his way back through to the kitchen, taking the time to drape a tea-towel over some of the plates ‘to keep the flies off’ the ingredients set out. “You look more of a coffee than a tea guy,” he remarked moving to grab a moka pot out of the cupboard along with a couple of mugs.

Kaden followed inside and tried not to be too wonderstruck by the sheer size of the house as he stepped inside. Sure, he’d seen it from the outside, but the interior was just as nice. Spacious and inviting. Not empty but not crowded either. His eyes peeled away from the tall ceilings just long enough to follow Arthur’s line of sight and instructions to the bathroom. “Thanks,” he said as he started walking in that direction. “Coffee, you’re right.” The bathroom wasn’t too far off from the kitchen. He rummaged under the sink and started to clean and redress his wounds with the gauze there. With the door open, he could still hear Arthur loud and clear. “Though I have to say, it’s been a while now since I’ve had a truly good cup of espresso. The cafes here are fine and all but the best here barley seem to compare to the mediocre back home.” Possibly harsher than reality, but his love of good coffee bought out strong opinions. “I’m sure you have similar opinions on the tea here. I heard many a complaint about the use of tea bags in certain establishments.” The bandages looked alright enough. They definitely weren’t getting any better by his hands, that was for sure. He could already see Regan having a field day with his handiwork. Once he was done, he put the kit away and headed back into the kitchen. To his dismay, the ingredients on the counter were covered. Putain. He knew he should have paid more attention on the way in, but he thought he’d have more time to scout. He tried to discern what sorts of shapes were under the towels and what could be hidden underneath, but they were too obscured. He’d never know. He considered scooting over to the counter and just subtly taking a peek under the towels.

There were still odd jobs that needed doing around the house, but for the most part Arthur was starting to finally settle in at his new address. “Yeah, White Crest leaves a lot to be desired in its beverage options… I asked for tea and got given iced tea which is a minor tragedy I still haven’t entirely recovered from…” the memory made him shiver a little “the amount of sugar in that shit is crazy… Makes you wonder how any of them still have teeth.” He had to laugh a little, despite his strangeness it was ironic how similar they viewed certain mundane things of existence. It made Arthur wonder just what Kaden’s gripe really was that they couldn’t somehow get along. While Kaden was busy, Arthur set about getting the moka pot heating through on the stove; a unique little contraption that he’d picked up during his time in italy. If there was one thing that could be said about them they could make a pretty kicker coffee. While that was running he went to open another cupboard and took out a small glass vial filled with a crystal clear liquid that he carefully poured into one of the mugs. The freshly brewed coffee was transferred to this cup, stirred a few times and set out on the center island of the kitchen. Next, he brewed up his own cup of coffee leaving it to steep a while, weak tea truly was the bane of his existence. “Any milk?” He noticed a couple of times in moving around the kitchen how Kaden eyed some of the things out on the counter, hardly surreptitious in what he was looking at. But Arthur knew how to bring a conversation away from a certain focal point, “so what kind of bird was it?”

As Arthur prepared the coffee, Kaden took it upon himself to slowly “admire” the kitchen. Casually looking around at the cupboards, the counter tops, the plates hiding the pie in question under towels on top of said countertops. Just one corner, he could make it subtle. His fingertips reached out to touch the edge of the towel when Arthur spoke again. His head shot up and his hand dropped flat to his side. “Sugar? Tea?” He shook his head and played back everything the man just said. “Right. Yeah, you have to wonder. So many things here are just too sweet I don’t see the appeal. I mean, of course in a good pastry or pie, you want a bit of sweetness. It’s the point. But there’s sweet and then there’s just a mouthful of sugar.” He cringed thinking of one of the danishes he’d tried at one of the cafes. It had been a mistake. He had the feeling Arthur understood. And if he got some insight into that goddamn pie, all the better. “No milk, thanks. I saw how you prepared it. I doubt it needs any help.” He considered faking a stumble and tripping into one of the plates just to find out what was there, but that would sabotage. Not his angle. He wasn’t there to ruin anyone else’s efforts, just size up the competition, see what he had to raise to. If he had to outright cheat to win that wouldn’t feel like a win at all. He sat, eyes still drifting to the ingredients sitting there right out of sight, taunting him, and once again had to snap back to Arthur. “Bird?” His brow creased. Putain . That was right. “Bird. Right. It was, a, uh, a…” He couldn’t even remember if he’d said pet or wild bird before. He took a sip of his coffee to buy some time. It was obnoxiously wonderful. “That’s good. Really. Thanks.” Fairly certain he said lost. “Cockatoo. Lost pet, you know. Really thought I had it.” Another sip of his coffee. Strange. He must have needed to change the dressings on his wounds more than he’d thought. His side wasn’t quite burning with pain anymore. It felt settled somehow. Maybe this was just some damn good coffee.

It was entertaining, to dangle the carrot and watch Kaden jump like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar whenever he tried his hand at the antics he was even here for. “Well, of course but like you say those need to be somewhat sweet, not overly so though of course,” at Kaden’s denial of milk, Arthur nodded and poured a dash into his own before returning it to the fridge. He turned back to lean casually against the counter where the ingredients sat covered, the mug held loosely between his palms kept warm by the constant heat of his natural body-heat. “Best purchase I ever made, I know people take the piss but Italians sure do know the best way to navigate a cup of coffee… I once went to Padua and I tried this Pedrocchi coffee - it’s a regional speciality, mint and espresso - who would’ve thought? But damn, it works so well.” He lifted the mug and took a sip of his tea watching Kaden fumble over the story he’d dropped himself in. “Oh yeah? Who was the owner? I’ll be sure to check in and let them know I’ll keep an eye out as well.”

“Oh yeah. All about balance. All that. Of course.” Maybe if he angled himself just right, Kaden could catch a whiff of the ingredients. Of course when he breathed deep to try, all the could smell were the pungent aromas of good coffee. It really was the best cup he’d had in months. Hated admitting that. “They do. Not that I’d ever tell a single Italian that to their face. I can’t let them feel that superior. They don’t need my help.” Kaden wanted to roll his eyes at the mention of Padua and what not. Did he sound like this when he talked about French wine? Putain, probably. He resisted the urge but just barely. “That does sound good, though. Maybe I’ll try it someday if I ever make it back across the Atlantic.” That necessitated not dying in fucking White Crest, Maine first. A hard thing to avoid. Kaden took an extra long sip of his coffee at the further questioning, trying to make sure his eyes didn’t go too wide and panicked outwardly. Putain. What was a common American name? “John, uh…” Doe was not the name he wanted. “You know, I don’t remember his last name. Just John. All I got. Real shame he lost it. The bird.”

“No? Huh, I feel it’s worth telling anyone if something’s truly good and enjoyable… Gives that person the best kind of incentive to carry on doing that level of great work.” After all, in Arthur’s mind if you didn’t tell people things were good what was the reason for them to think it was worth it? He did his best to pass gratitude on, knowing the times in the past the thought of things he’d done for people had helped him push through the bad. “I’m not sure they feel superior… I know a fair few Italians who are very grounded.” It seemed a little stereotypical to hear Kaden say that in all honesty, but maybe he hadn’t met many? “I could probably find the recipe if you want it?” Maybe next time there was a community event he’d do that. But talk returned to the bird and Arthur’s features grew thoughtful “huh, I don’t know any John's round here… Did he give you the bird’s name? Any pictures? I’d be happy to keep an eye out if you’d like?”

Kaden wanted to roll his eyes again. What a goody goody teacher thing to say. “Sometimes certain people don’t need their egos boosted. Their heads are big enough already.” Sometimes people needed to be taken down a peg. And if he could just. See. Those. Ingredients. No luck. “Come on, it’s just a friendly rivalry, you know. It’s not about individuals. Just ribbing, that’s all.” He had to wonder if Arthur was the type to joke around much or tease. It struck him that wasn’t really how he operated. Too nice to everyone. Why that dug under Kaden’s skin a little, he couldn’t say. “A name? Um-- Tweety. It was cliche, I know.” He gave a nervous laugh. “At least it wasn't a canary, right?” This was getting to be too much. And oh look, the coffee was gone. Kaden raised his arm and looked at his watch very pointedly. “Oh wow, is that the time? I-- oh wow, this just, it was so great, I didn’t think I’d been here that long. I really have to go. Other assignments. Dogs to find. Cats in trees. All of that.” When he stood and started to walk away, he realized just how little his side hurt. He didn’t even feel like he had to hobble a little or wince too much with each footfall. Guess they were really good bandages. “Thanks for the coffee and not--” Reporting him. “You know. Thanks. Good luck with the pie.” As Kaden left, he felt pretty stupid for the whole thing. Maybe he should just accept that some people were nicer than him and just meant well and had talents. Or he could go home and make the best fucking pie he could posssible manage and win that stupid contest instead.

#p: kaden #espieonage #wickedswriting #// the graphic is self explanatory I think x)

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geminimoonbeamx · 7 years

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Naive: Part 2

A/N: I’m so freaking happy you guys seemed to like the intro, I wrote this and a few other chapters up in one night! Hopefully I can get you guys as hyped as I am for this story

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Just cursing in this chapter because I have the mouth of a sailor. The stirrings of sexual tension. The big stuffs coming next time though you guys I promise lol

Summary: As the goddaughter of Tony Stark you were no stranger to the Avengers, but when you meet the newest member- you’re a little more then intrigued. Unfortunately for him, Bucky Barnes has caught your eye. 💘💘💘💘💘💘

You’ve been at the tower for close to five-ish days now, and you’re still trying to get reaccoustomed to the enormity of the building.

Had it always been so fucking big?

You’d think since you we’re older now, it should have shrunk a bit. You know, size relativity and all that? If anything now that you we’re older you had the mental capacity to process just how freakishly huge this building was. The man tower is over sixty floors.

…that gave you a lot of opportunity to get totally lost. All the time.

You’d never had the greatest internal navigation system in the first place. You could get lost down the street from your house.

“I don’t know where I am! I’m between a Del Taco and a Walgreens”

You’d made many a lost phone call that sounded just like that.

You’d probably text Tony and ask him exactly what floor the main gym was on but 1) he’d tease you and ask “How exactly do you plan on playing Lara Croft all over the world and you cant find your way to the gym” and 2) it was three thirty in the morning.

You we’re irritated, being up this early when you didn’t have to. Especially when within the next few weeks you’d be starting adult life again and you’d have no choice but to wake up at the ass crack of dawn. It felt like a waste of precious sleep.

But no matter how hard you’d tried, it was no use. You’d smoked an entire joint of indica. Made chamomile tea- meditated until it felt like you we’re going to scream. Everything. And yet you couldn’t manage to get comfortable in the king sized, memory foam mattress.

Starting to come down off of the medication hadn’t been as awful as you and Tony had both been fearing. You we’re a little jittery- your anxiety acting up more then normal but you weren’t all strung the hell out and pale with sunken in eyes. You weren’t crying, hunched up in a corner begging for death or your next fix.

You we’re tired though. Exhausted and yet somehow couldn’t sleep. Your body just wouldn’t let you.

Why? Why lort? Sleeping was your favorite activity in the world. Dreaming an actual hobby of yours.

“This is bullshit” You complained to Tony a few days ago. You we’re going on 48 hours with close to no sleep. “I feel like I did like a kilo of Cocaine”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. You don’t know what cocaine feels like. That’s what I’m going to choose to believe” He had given you a pointed look when the both of you sat in his lab “Look kid, we knew there would be some side effects. It should ware off within the week, as your body gets used to this lower dosage. I can have the doc prescribe you some sleeping pills?”

You’d thought on it for a moment before denying it. You didn’t really wanting to be taking more meds right now.

“Alright, when you change your mind come find me” Tony had sighed. Your head was full of cement. Just like Jamie’s had been.

So since you didn’t take prescription- you figured you we’re going to have to find another way.

Your brilliant idea; run your body down until it had no choice but to crash.

It takes you another close to fifteen minutes before you find the main gym. It’s just a luxurious and lush as the rest of the building; three stories high. The top two floors looking over the large basket ball court. The equipment was state of the art and the various metal machines gleamed. You figured you’d do some cardio and then some weight lifting. Double whammy yourself.

People who have the pre conceived notion that fat people never work out are stupid. Point blank.

What, do they think people like you just sit on couches and stuff their mouths with twinkies while watching Rosanne…well that actually sounded like a good ass time but still.

You’d always been active, always loved going on hikes and exploring zoo’s and Museums and beaches for hours. Plus hadn’t anyone realized that shopping was the most hardcore cardio there was? And you lived to shop. After your mom- you’d needed to do something. To keep your mind clear and that is how your relationship with working out had come to be. You didn’t do it to lose weight, you did it to work on your health. Mental mostly, but your physical health came with that. Yeah you had a belly and thunder thighs. You also had kick ass blood pressure and strong calves.

You slip your headphones in after switching on your “Get it gurllll” playlist and hopping onto one of the elliptical machines, putting your water bottle in the holder before turning on the machine to pick your traction, starting at a decent pace.

The music shuffles from Amy Winehouse to J. Cole, to Lana Del Rey and Fleetwood Mac. Everyone had always teased you that you liked to work out to slow songs. It was something about the melody that got you moving. You go through song after song, keeping up your pace until your legs are screaming in protest and your breaths are labored.

With the blaring music in your ears, you don’t notice when someone else enters the room.

Bucky always came to workout early, usually getting the gym to himself. It’s not even that he liked the quiet or being alone or any of that- even though it was nice to not have Sam’s annoying, booming voice around. No, it was because he didn’t have anything else to do. When he woke up from the nightmares that still frequented him, he figured he should do something with all of that pent up energy, so he’d come to the empty gym and work his muscles until he could barley move.

He wasn’t used to the lights already being on when he got there.

He takes the steps to the cardio machine and stops in his tracks for a moment at the sight infront of him.

Y/N’s there, on an elliptical. He can hear the music in your ears from his spot across the floor, so he knew there was no way you could have heard him come in. Your working hard, your body straining in your skin tight leggings. Your silky ponytail bobs with your efforts, your breaths coming out in little pants. He can feel the look on his face. What were you doing here this early?

Should he leave? Was that weird, if he left after seeing that you was there? Surely this place was big enough for the two of you.

He thinks it’s probably smart to make his presence known, he’s just about to call for you when you stop and turn your head.

“OH HOLY FUCKING FUCK!” You cry in shock, your eyes wide with surprise as you yank the headphones from your ears before grabbing your chest, almost falling off the machine.

Bucky stands there, his own eyes big and his hands shooting up in a “sorry, I’m harmless” kind of way. A wordless surrender.

When your bell like laughter echo’s around him he relaxes a little bit “Bucky you scared the living crap out of me”

You accuse, good naturedly, still holding your hoodie clad chest.

“I’m sorry, It’s usually dead at this time so I kind of just barged in. I didn’t realize anyone is here” He explains himself. Leaving out the fact that he’d taken a moment to look at the way your thighs joggled in the spandex, of course.

You don’t know why you feel so…hot. Are your cheeks burning? No? It’s just your body reacting to the heart attack you’d almost just had.

“No, you’re good. Just give a girl a little warning next time, okay?” You chuckle as look down at the touch screen of the machine. You’d been on it for over an hour. You grab your water bottle and hop off. He hides his smile at how short your legs are.

“I’ll make sure to do that. So what are you doin’ up so early?” He hopes his attempt to make conversation didn’t sound as forced as it felt.

“I couldn’t sleep so I figured I might as well come try to run myself until I can knock out. You? I thought that you and Steve and Sam have some sort of fitness club?” You walk over to him, giving him a small smile before passing him on your way to the weights section. He shakes his head with a low chuckle and follows you,

Not because he was - like- following you. But because he was going to warm up with some lifting anyway.

You plop down on one of the leg lifts “You an insomniac like me?”

“Somethin’ like that. I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep and figured somethin’ the same” Bucky goes over and lays out flat on one of the work benches, adjusting the weights.

“Hmm great minds think alike then” You croon. You hadn’t really gotten the chance to get to know him yet. Yeah, the two of you had talked in passing. At dinner. When you we’re messing with Steve. But never alone like this.

Damn. Did he look GOOD in those gray sweatpants.

“They do. How long have you been here” Bucky inquires as he grabs onto the weight bar and begins to lift. It’s nothing major. Not to him. Just three hundred pounds- on each side.

You watch him with wonder at the ease his arms move with.

You know its weird, but its hot seeing someone being able to bench that much with little effort…you wonder how easily he’d be able to bench you…

“Like an hour?” You answer him, tearing your eyes away from him.

Huh, he thinks. You’d been working out like that on the elliptical for an hour? You didn’t even look that winded.

“You work out a lot?” He feels like an idiot the moment it comes out of his mouth and your laughter doesn’t make it any better.

“What are you trying to say, huh?” You’re not mad, mostly just seizing the opportunity to tease him.

“Nothing! I just meant that you- uh- looked good up there. Like you don’t even look tired” He tries to unjumble his words, feeling like a total fucking bozo all the way.

“Yeah? Thanks. I spent the summer sight seeing in Europe which meant hiking like everywhere. I sweat I climbed like a gazillion steps. I guess it strengthened my core”

“Where in Europe did you go exactly?” He decides to go with a safer topic. Hoping he wont continue to make a total ass out of himself. He’d happened to have done his fair share of hiking that continent.

“All over but I mostly Italy. I spent a few weeks in Greece though, those we’re my favorite” You sound wistful. And that’s how it starts.

Bucky used to be able to spark up a conversation with just about anyone. Back before- back when he was younger, he could keep a conversation flowing like no one’s business. Steve had always idolized the way the people just seemed to like the guy. But it had been hard to get back to that now. Yeah, he wasn’t nearly as quiet as he’d been back in Romania, but he still didn’t talk. For hours. With near strangers.

Which is why he’s surprised he’s able to with you.

The conversation was bubbling, like a brook, ebbing and lively. He found himself wanting, almost needing to hear your little stories and opinions and jokes. You’d both abandoned working out and just sat on the machines, laughing and talking.

He learned that you liked to tease- a lot. Nearly everything was a joke with you. Your sense of humor sharp and sarcastic. Your nature playful and inviting.

You tell him stories from Europe and then about the tower and being here when you we’re younger with Tony. And in turn, surprisingly, he tells you a couple of his own stories back. A couple that he could actually remember. What it was like living in Romania- not knowing a lick of the language before hand. How fucking awkward he still felt as he adjusted to the 21st century.

“So lets get this straight, you’ve been de-iced for almost three years and you haven’t watched Harry Potter?” Your tone is dead serious and he grins and shakes his head.

“Nah”

“Or Lord of the Rings?”

“Negative”

“Or Star Wars?”

“Is that the one with the little green guy?”

“Yes!”

“I caught a little of it when Tony was watchin’ it”

“Oh my god, Bucky. I can’t. This is fucking blasphemous. I mean Lord of the Rings and Star Wars I guess could wait, I GUESS…But Harry Potter?! Harry Potter is the best thing this generation has to give! It will change your life!” The pure passion in your voice is almost palpable. Why cant he stop smiling?

“I guess I’ve been really missing out, haven’t I?”

“Yes! You have! Ugh, okay we’re going to have to have a movie night ASAP. It is just unacceptable for us to be living under the same roof and you haven’t seen a single Harry Potter movie” He thinks your kidding but your really not.

You don’t play about Potter, okay?!

When you check your phone and see the time your eyes bulge a little. You’d been sitting talking to him for nearly three hours.

“Oh shit, is it really almost seven?” You cant believe it. It really didn’t feel like you’d been here for that long.

“Is it?” Bucky sits up a little, not believing it either.

“Yeah” You bite you lip as you look at him for a moment, before standing “I should probably go and see if I can get any sleep at all”

He masks the small disappointment he feels at your words “Of course”

“It was really cool talking to you. I’m serious about our marathon! I have to school you on the most important stuff” You’re voice is flirty. As fuck. You don’t even know if you mean for it to be as you look down at him. He tries to tear his eyes from your face- and fails. Twice. Before he’s able to.

“Yeah uh, just tell me when”

“Definitely. Goodnight Bucky…or I guess Morning?” You giggle on your way out. He watches your retreating figure until your out of sight before he lets out huff and reclines hardly back. The machine sighs in protest. He fixes his eyes on the ceiling as he deals with the stirring in his head. The one though he can clearly decipher is…

Fuck.

Because although he’d liked having Tony not at his throat, he doesn’t see how he’s going to be able to stay away from you. No wonder Steve had gotten caught with his hands in the cookie jar.

—–

So I just had to pump out another part for you guys! I hope you like it! Tell me what you think? Do you like the dynamic between them yet? Does Y/N just seem like a little hoe? Do you want to be tagged. Tell me ya'lllllllllll.

@devenrenee @skeletoresinthebasement @kendallefire @mellifluousbabe @toniinhere @agentmstark @purplekitten30 @bellaballanda @yslbucky @arabellaaurorabarnes @prinxessofspace @supernaturally-lucky @sngforme @kyritha

#bucky barnes x plus size reader #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes smut #mcu imagine #marvel #tony stark #tony stark daughter #steve rogers #poc reader #mixed #reader

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