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crankynewt · 3 years

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Good for a Weekend (Helmut Zemo)

Masterlist

Summary: You were retired, a disgraced Avenger content living the rest of their life out in solitude. But Sam and Bucky's shenanigans dragged you back into the hero life and you found yourself face to face with the man who'd got you into this mess in the first place. The question is, however, is he really who you thought he was? Or are you just as crazy as him?

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Reader

Warnings: TFAWS Episode 3 Spoilers, Zemo (he's a warning), swearing, mentions of torture and experimenting (past), drinking, Zemo being semi-protective, I think that's it??

Word Count: 3.41k

Author's Note: Biting the bullet and writing this BEFORE Marvel does something to get us to hate him again. Also, ZEMO AND BLANK SPACE WORK SO WELL TOGETHER OMG.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” You murmured, looking at the message from Sam flashing across your phone. Although you had stopped dead in your tracks, the chaos of the bustling streets of London continued around you. You pushed your sunglasses further up your nose, them having fallen down as you were peering at the screen of your burner cell.

‘Need your help in Madripoor ASAP,’ the text read. You weren’t daft, you knew exactly what kind of lawless entropy happened on that Indonesian island and if Sam was asking for your help, that meant he was in some deep shit.

‘I’m retired,’ you replied, glancing over your shoulder out of habit. Although you’d been pardoned after the Berlin incident by the government, you were still a disgraced Avenger in the eyes of the world. All you wanted was to live the rest of your life out in peace, a future without the world-saving you began when you left HYDRA with the Maximoff twins.

You hadn’t chosen to become a human lab rat, tortured and exposed to the mind stone until you could suddenly hear the thoughts of others in your head. Telepathy and telekinesis were not necessarily the kind of special skills that employers wanted to see on a resume, but alas, here you were. Thankfully, however, you'd learned to block them out until necessary to violate people's privacy. Fighting aliens and other superpowered entities, including the people you’d once considered to be your family, were in the past.

‘Please. It’s Bucky,’ Sam messaged again. Those three words were enough to make your blood run cold and your heart stop. Bucky was the reason you were in this mess in the first place, and you would be damned if the ex-assassin was going to fall back into the clutches of evil.

With a sigh, you typed back ‘fine’ and began the trek towards your apartment. Your phone was vibrating again immediately, Sam explaining that they would be picking you up at a small airstrip on the edge of the city.

Three hours later, you were walking along a long, concrete runway, the harsh England wind attacking your body as you pulled your leather jacket tighter around you. Your brows furrowed in confusion at the sight of a civilian jet rather than the military-esque vessels you’d become accustomed to. The steps were awaiting your ascent with an older man stood adjacent to the entrance.

“Ms.(Y/L/N),” he greeted. A thick accent laced his tone, one you couldn’t quite determine from the crackling of age in his voice. German or Russian, most likely, you deduced. Attempting to be polite despite your skepticism, you gave him a tight-lipped smile and handshake before the elder man gestured towards the stairs for you. Entering the jet, you turned right to be met with the familiar faces of Sam and Bucky.

“(Y/N)!” Bucky exclaimed, rising from his seat and embracing you in a hug. He held you tightly against his body, almost as if he wasn’t sure you were really there. The super soldier had taken a liking to you when the two of you stayed in Wakanda during your exile, both of you having a certain understanding of the other due to your shared experiences with HYDRA. The sergeant had become somewhat of a brother to you in your time away together. “What are you doing here?”

“Sam messaged me.” You replied, Barnes’ arms immediately releasing you as he whipped around to face Sam.

“You tattled on me to (Y/N)?” He scoffed. If looks could kill, Sam would have dropped dead from the darkness in Bucky’s orbs.

“Wait, if he’s okay then what am I here for?” You said, shifting your gaze to Sam as you raised a brow.

“You’re here to make sure that he stays in line.” Sam snapped, crossing his arms over his chest as Bucky let out an exasperated ‘Jesus Christ’ under his breath.

“Bucky’s fine, Sam.” You replied, rubbing your face with your hand in annoyance as you glanced at the super-soldier.

“He’s not talking about James.” A new voice sounded from behind you, one both vaguely familiar but also strange. Whipping around, you were met with a face you’d only ever seen through a screen. Zemo.

“What the fuck is he doing out of prison?!” You exclaimed, looking between Sam and Bucky in utter disbelief.

“Bucky broke him out of jail!” Sam exclaimed, pointing a finger towards the super-soldier.

“Sam’s the one who pulled me into this mess!” Bucky pointed back.

“You two morons have reached a whole new level of dumbassery!” You exclaimed, keeping a cautious gaze on Zemo in the corner of your eye. “You broke out the man who ripped apart the Avengers out of jail and you let him do it?! The same man who killed King T’Chaka! Do neither of you remember what T’Challa and the people of Wakanda just did for us after we became enemies of the state?! I cannot believe that you would betray their trust and help this monster to escape!”

You paused for a moment, breathing heavily as you looked at the ashamed faces of Bucky and Sam in front of you.

“I’m sorry to-” You heard Zemo begin, you turned to face him with utter rage shining in your eyes. “No! The grown-ups are talking, you can wait your turn.” You scolded him, almost as you would a child but just a tad harsher. Grown-ups may have also not have been the best choice of words to describe Wilson and Barnes.

“I don’t want any part of this suicide mission!” You snapped at the duo, moving to leave.

Thirty minutes later, however, you were still on the jet, glaring into a pair of brown eyes as the four of you flew through the air. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you were still there, but Sam and Bucky knew you too well and pushed just the right buttons to convince you to stay. Sam needed you to tap into Zemo’s mind if need be to figure out if he was planning on betraying them, and you didn’t want two of the last people you trust getting themselves killed if you could prevent it.

Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum were sitting across from each other, meaning that you got stuck sitting across from the Baron in silence. He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, the darkness in your (Y/E/C) orbs not sitting well with the man.

“So, you read minds.” He began, rubbing his hands together anxiously. You noted the nervous tick and couldn’t help but feel amused at his discomfort, but your expression never faltered.

“You don’t need to make small talk.” You bit, your icy tone growing colder in every syllable.

“I’m genuinely curious, is all.” He began, pausing his fiddling to brush his hair back only to resume it once more. “It just seems like for someone with your abilities, you’re often an overlooked member of the team. You’re the most powerful, even more so than Maximoff or Banner, perhaps, yet you were never truly an Avenger, were you?”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m retired.” You muttered, ending your glaring to gaze out the window. The way Zemo spoke about you was unsettling, especially considering how he felt about the Avengers. He seemed not to think that you were part of the team, similarly to Bucky, and that brought you a feeling of unease.

“And why is that?” Zemo pushed, your avoidance evidence that he’d struck a chord.

“Why do you care?” You scoffed, looking back at the Sokovian man, both annoyance and exhaustion present in your tone.

“Because I think you’re like me.” He answered, his tone becoming quieter. Zemo didn’t look at you with the same rage you’d seen in footage from 2016, nor with the amusement that he gazed at Bucky and Sam with. No, it was something different, softer and analytical, perhaps. You wanted to peer into his mind for something, anything to figure out what he was thinking, but he would likely feel your prodding into his consciousness. As of now, he didn’t seem to have any plans to betray you guys, and you wouldn’t be the one to give him a reason.

“That’s enough from you.” Bucky interrupted, rising from his seat to switch places with you, his brotherly possessiveness clear as day.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and Zemo provided the three of you with costumes for the roles you were to play in Madripoor. Yours seemed to have been designed specifically to be horribly uncomfortable, both in feel and the amount of skin that was exposed in the cool evening air. The three of you were making your way towards the glowing city shining in the distance, the nerves in your stomach rising with each step.

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp.” Zemo explained in response to Sam’s protests over his own outfit. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname.” Sam said, looking at the picture of Conrad on the phone Zemo had just handed him. “Hell, he does look like me though.”

“And who am I supposed to be playing, exactly?” You questioned, still unsure as to what role you would be playing in this scheme.

“My partner,” Zemo said simply, an amused smile working his way onto his lips.

“What?! No! Nu-uh, I’m not doing that!” You protested, Sam chuckling at your denial of what was probably inevitable.

“Would you rather the alternative of all of us getting slaughtered the second we step foot into the city?” Zemo retorted, still humored by your resistance.

“Fine, but if you try anything I’m going to break your nose.” You gave in.

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

Soon, the four of you were making your way into a bar, Helmut’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist since the second you exited the car in a mock possessiveness. It was all part of the charade, you had to remind yourself, as the Baron kept your side pressed against his snugly.

Making your way up to the counter, the bartender didn’t look impressed to see the group of you there as he made his way over to you.

“Hello,” He began. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have a business to do, with Selby.” Zemo interjected before Sam could respond.

“The usual?” The bartender ignored Zemo and turned his attention back to Sam, who simply gave a curt nod in response. The bartender turned, grabbing a snake from a jar and slicing it down the underside with a blade. A part of you wanted to cackle, especially seeing Sam stiffen beside you, and you didn’t doubt that Bucky was having to restrain himself as well. Zemo didn’t seem surprised as the bartender pulled who knows what out from the snake and placed it into a glass.

“Smiling Tiger, your favorite.” The Baron commented, the bartender sliding Sam his beverage only to pour two glasses of a different liquor for Zemo and yourself.

“I love these,” Sam said, raising to clink glasses with yourself and the Sokovian man whose arm was still draped around you.

“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo replied, smiling back at poor Sam. The three of you downed your burning liquor, Sam struggling the most out of the three of you, clearly appalled by the organ at the bottom of his shot. You could see Bucky give a little nod in the corner of your eye, knowing he must be finding this as amusing as you were.

A man soon approached Helmut from behind, tapping him on the shoulder before he turned to face the stranger, shifting you with him. When Zemo felt the little nudge, he immediately pulled you closer to him. You were even tighter against him now, so much so that you had to wrap an arm around him as well to stabilize yourself. It was almost as if he was trying to shield you from the man despite him knowing full well that you can hold your own.

“I got word from on high; you ain’t welcome here.” He spat, getting too close to the two of you for either of your likings. But Zemo kept his air of indifference while you instinctually moved closer into his side. It’s all an act, remember? You have to play the part of the clingy partner who would get frightened at such a rough man threatening you two. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo began, trailing off as he gestured to Bucky.

“New haircut?” The strange man asked Bucky, who merely glowered in response.

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo finished, this time him being the one to get into the man’s face. Thankfully that was enough to send him away, most likely to Selby or this Power Broker who seems to be Madripoor’s own version of Big Brother.

You could feel Zemo let out a breath that you don’t think he even knew he was holding, giving a quick glance down at you before placing a peck on your temple. For the facade, of course. But what wasn’t fake were the butterflies rise in your stomach, something that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Were you… Flustered?

No, you reminded yourself internally. This was a very bad man holding you close, the same one who killed the former King of Wakanda and ripped your team to shreds. Not only that, but he hated all the Avengers, so why did he seem to like you? It doesn’t matter whether or not he likes you, he’s Zemo. But the more time you spent with him, the more intoxicated you became. He was starting to look more and more like your next mistake, and love is certainly not a game you wanted to be playing with him. Right?

The next thirty or so minutes were a blur. Bucky having to fake being the Winter Soldier to kick a bunch of men’s asses to finally meeting up with Selby, only for Sam to break your cover through a phone call and Selby quickly being shot. The four of you promptly exited the bar, attempting to remain inconspicuous until bounty hunters from all around started shooting at you. Bucky and Sam jumped forward, meanwhile, Zemo darted to the right, dragging you with him as he moved his hand from your waist to interlock your fingers.

You cut through alleyway after alleyway, hiding in the shadows as gunfire echoed around you. Eventually, you managed to catch up with Bucky and Sam, approaching the pair with your hand still in his.

“Well this is too perfect.” A female voice interrupted your mini-reunion, Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows as she ripped down her hood, gun fixated on Zemo.

“Drop it Zemo,” She started, Zemo raising his gun-holding hand before lowering the weapon to the ground. “You cost me everything.”

“Sharon, wait.” You reasoned, raising your hand as you slowly backed up.

“What, are you his lover now? His sugar baby or some shit?” She badgered you, causing your eyes to widen as you only just remembered that you were still holding his hand. You quickly dropped it, raising it to match your other arm as Zemo sent you a look that you couldn’t decipher. Oh, how desperately you wanted to look into his mind, but the little bit of sanity left in you told you to leave it be.

“Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead,” Sam explained.

“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead.” Sharon replied, gun still pointed at your group.

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky questioned the blonde.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass so that you could save his ass from his ass and became a criminal with their ass.” She explained, pointing the gun at each mention of whoever's ass it was that turn. “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up, so, I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Hey, don’t blow that smoke. I was on the run, too.” Sam rebutted Sharon’s complaints.

“Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore - I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

“Listen…” You began. “Sharon, we need your help, the former agent only laughing in response. “Please.”

“This isn’t over.” She conceded, shaking her head at you. “I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”

Sharon’s place was definitely nicer than yours is now, and you’re not even on the run anymore. She, thankfully, had a change of clothes for you to slip into, the soft material much a welcome relief from the tortuous item Zemo had you wearing.

While you were waiting for Sharon’s guests to begin arriving for whatever event would soon be taking place downstairs, everybody slowly filtered out of the room until it was only Zemo and yourself remaining.

“Can I ask you a question?” You spoke up, breaking the silence from your spot on the sofa as you glanced towards the Baron seated across the room.

“Ask away.” He smiled, taking a sip from the amber liquid in his glass.

“What did you mean earlier, when you said we were the same.” Your voice was quiet now, so much so that you weren’t sure if he’d even heard you. That is until he got up from his seat and slowly walked towards you.

“I never wanted to tear the Avengers apart, not until they killed my family. Destroyed my city… Sure, I didn’t like them, but I didn’t want to destroy them. It was all about vengeance.” He began, sitting beside you on the yellow fabric. “For you, it was HYDRA who ruined your life. You joined the Avengers because it was where the last people you had left were going and it was the easiest way for you to ensure the organization was destroyed. You never wanted the idolization that came with being a hero, and it was clear when your work was done that you had no desire to keep going. Everything that came after the Sokovia Accords was out of survival.”

“I’m not saying you're right,” you began, “but what would that make me, then? Insane? Cause that seems to be the running theory.”

“You’re not crazy, despite how rumors fly. Neither am I, really.” He began, eliciting a small smile from you at the last bit he added. “You’re a fighter, someone doing whatever it takes to get their agenda done. Whether that means breaking the law or joining the Avengers, nothing will stop you once you put your mind to it - it’s one of the things I admire about you.”

You pursed your lips as you focused on the amber fluid floating in its crystalline home, him taking another sip of the burning liquid. Your gaze shifted back to his face, and oh god, look at that face. Maybe it was the liquor in your system already or maybe your last bit of sanity was finally escaping your mind, but suddenly his past didn’t seem to matter anymore. You had plenty of red on your ledger as well, and the more he spoke the more you began to sympathize with him.

“So you admire me?” You smirked, crossing your arms as you tilted your head slightly to the right playfully.

“Why don’t you look into my mind and tell me?” He replied. Reaching out, you gently placed your fingers against his temple as you gazed into his consciousness. Flashes of magic and madness, ideas of a love that could be forever or go down in flames. You didn’t go searching deeper, because your own mind was racing. Would pursuing this be worth all the pain that could very well follow? No, not could, would. You’d be betraying your former teammates, but what did that matter much anymore.

Rather than pulling your hand away, you placed your lips gently on his, tentatively, even. He tasted of expensive liquor and a hint of peppermint, and you found yourself intoxicated. The kiss ended far too soon for your liking, him pulling away so his brown orbs could gaze into your own.

“So… What do you say?” He asked, cupping your cheek in his hand, you place your own over top of his.

“Why not?” You smiled back, reconnecting your lips to his.

“I can make the bad guys good for a weekend.”

Taglist:

@fanfictionedagain @lam-ila @b0nnyzz @haydieenzzibug @cyanide-mustard @duchess-of-new-shire @the-chocoholic-writer @milenadixon @real-fbi @golddenlioness

#i feel so guilty writing this lmao #i hate liking zemo rip #helmut zemo #zemo #helmut zemo x reader #tfaws #marvel #baron zemo #helmut zemo imagine #daniel bruhl #mcu #tfaws imagine #bucky barnes #sam wilson #zemo x reader #zemo imagine

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (x)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety, smidge of angst, mentions of violence

Word count: 7.8k (i went overboard. clearly.)

A/N: as well all know, i am a humanities student writing science geeks. if any of this sounds unrealistic or nonsensical, it’s because it is and i am honestly too exhausted to research data privacy and AI so here’s my take on how STEM should work i.e. the power of friendship <3 major shoutout to @iamlittlesparkler for the idea for this chapter!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

“As you know, we have a busy week ahead of us.”

Coffees line the conference room table, pens click against the stacks of paper that settle in front of various agents and the smell of deodorant mixed with post-training sweat lingers at the back of the room like a disgusting witch concoction.

“The annual parade is coming up and since there are a few security threats, SHIELD has been asked to step in. Therefore, all of you will be working security this week, possibly even at the parade.” Murmurs broke out in the room the minute this was said; mostly from first year field agents who were way too excited to have earpieces and fingerless gloves.

Bucky, on the other hand, doesn’t think much of it. They’ve dealt with threats before, most were declared empty the minute it got out that SHIELD or the Avengers were involved. It’s the 12th one that year.

“That’s only if we don’t catch it first,” Steve continued. “Our first priority is precaution. The tech and analytics teams are working on it. However, if you see anything suspicious, bring it up with Director Fury. He’s going to be around to make sure we’re not overlooking anything. Do you have any questions?”

More whispers erupted at the mention of Fury’s name. Wait till they realise he lives up to his name when they accidentally manage to set him off just by existing incorrectly.

Bucky smirks at the thought.

“You can leave then.” Steve straightens up as chairs shuffle against the carpeted floor, over twenty people leaving the room.

“And remember, if you see an eagle today, be sure to stand there and thank it on behalf of Steve for its service. Freedom! Liberty! And whatever else,” Tony calls out from the corner of the room, earning a sigh from the captain. Others only snicker as they close the door behind them.

“Thanks.” Steve stares at him stone faced, bemused at the symbolism that had been bestowed upon him.

“Gotta keep the patriotism high.” The only ones that remain are the official team. Bucky thinks that he should have left with the other agents but apparently, it was rude and not a good show of team spirit.

“How serious is this threat anyway?” Clint has his head face down on the table, hand holding his to-go coffee cup so it doesn’t fall over.

“We’re not sure.” Steve finally takes a seat on the chair in front of him. “It’s the biggest event we’ve had this year, wouldn’t put it past them.”

“If it’s those Welsh kids again, I’m gonna punch a hole through their house this time,” Clint warns, voice muffled through the furniture.

“It’s not them, we checked.” Nat had her leg up on the armrest of Clint’s chair. “Tech team’s been working overtime to figure it out.”

“You have anything that could help?” Sam sends a nod towards Tony.

“I got a few things but it’d take a while to put it together.”

“Didn’t you learn quantum physics in a night?” Wanda’s picking apart a cookie into pieces, chewing slowly.

“Thermodynamic astrophysics,” he corrects her. “Quantum science took lesser.”

Bucky scoffs slightly at the brag, eyes still trained on the table in front of him. Maybe if he made no noise, they would forget he’s here.

“Yeah, so this should be a piece’a cake.”

“If your cake was somehow made out of a highly specified tracker that somehow doesn’t violate the data privacy of the entire world while analysing millions of terabytes worth of information, then yeah. A piece of it.”

“What he means to say-” Bruce interjects, “-is that we’re trying. It’s just taking longer than usual.”

“Well, the parade’s this Sunday. Think it’ll be done by then?”

“Hey FRIDAY,” Tony crosses his arm over his chest. “How many hours have I slept this week?”

“Three and a half, boss.”

“How much more will I be getting?”

“From previous experience, about six.”

“Yeah, we can get it done.” Tony looks back at Steve.

“Ask someone on the tech team to help you out.” Everyone was well aware of Tony’s bad coping mechanisms and how futile it was to get him to change his mind about it, but they still tried.

“They’re too busy.” Bruce pressed his lips into a straight line.

Bucky tunes out at this point. If he could help, he would have reluctantly chimed in by now, but he couldn’t.

“So what now?” Sam rips Clint’s doughnut into two, keeping one half for himself while leaving the other to the latter who still hadn’t lifted his head up from the table.

“I actually asked Fury if I could call in an external to come help,” Tony pipes up.

“And he agreed?” Nat raised an eyebrow.

“After he realised I wasn’t going to leave his office until he said yes.” He pulled out his phone, rapidly typing out a message before hitting send. “It didn’t take too long.”

“Do we know this person?” Steve asks a little suspiciously.

“Well-” Bruce sneaks a glance at the broody man on the chair, “-kinda.”

Everyone can tell Bucky isn’t paying attention by the way he’s glaring holes into the plant. He doesn’t mean to, it just so happens that it looks like he wants to kill it. Nobody tends to bother him during meetings, knowing well and fully that he did not care.

“You’re about to.” Tony jumps up, making his way to the door to pull it open.

Bucky perks up. An open door means they can leave, right? He can go watch The Bachelor? He’s not sure what everyone was talking about, but if the meeting was over he could go ask Wanda who was always kind enough to help.

“Our newest recruit,” the billionaire announces, quickly adding the next part, “on a trial basis.”

Bucky looks at the door.

His jaw drops open.

“No,” he says loudly, posture immediately stiff as a plank.

“Hello to you too, Barnes.” You roll your eyes before sending a small wave to everyone else. “Hey everyone.”

“What are you doing here?” He looks like he’s seething.

“Don’t tell me you forgot about our date.” You cross your arms over your chest in defiance. “You told me 3 o’clock, you player.”

“What is she doing here?” He whips to Steve for an answer.

“Hey Y/N,” Sam greets with a smile on his face before Steve can reply.

“Sam Wilson, good to see you again.” You grin.

“Right back at ya, sugar.”

Wanda looks amused, Clint finally lifts his head off the table at the mention of your name while Nat takes her feet off his armrest, and Steve’s body relaxes when he realises what’s going on.

“Okay.” Tony claps his hand. Bucky shoots daggers at him. “As you all know, this is Y/N. She’s going to working with us this week.”

“This is ridi- how did you even find out about her?”

“Aside from the fact that she’s all you talk about?” Clint snorts. Bucky shifts his glare to him. It was bullshit and an exaggeration and Clint was going to get a shoe up his ass very soon.

Your grin only grows bigger.

“We saw one of the repulsors she made some time ago,” Bruce answers his question like the sane person that he is. “Tony’s had her in mind for a while.”

“Repulsors? How on ear-” Bucky connects two and two together before turning to Sam. “You. You got her this job.”

“Sam’s my best wingman.” You send him a small heart made from your hands. Whether the pun was intentional or not, no one would know.

“Don’t look at me, I had nothing to do with this idea.” Sam raised his hands to brush off the blame.

“You’re a villain,” he points out loudly.

“I’m a saint.” You raise your hand to your heart in mock offence. “I have done nothing wrong in my life, ever.”

“Listen, Robocop,” Tony interrupts your conversation, bringing the attention back to him, “I cleared it with Fury. He’s the boss here.”

“Fury doesn’t know-”

“What don’t I know?” The atmosphere of the room changes the minute he saunters in.

With an eyepatch on his face, gaze sharp and a long black coat, Nick Fury puts Bucky’s dark outfits to shame. Not like he was competing.

Bucky doesn’t continue his sentence. Nick’s imposing presence loomed at the doorway, putting a stop to the ridiculous arguments that were beginning to boil. Instead, he looks at you, only to find your attention trained on the man of the hour.

“Nicholas,” you half cheer from where you had shifted to in the middle of all the commotion.

Nicholas?

No one had ever called him Nicholas.

“Y/L/N,” Nick addresses in return. “Been a while.”

“You haven’t come to the lair in months, Nick.” You pout at him. “I even sent you an invite.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows. Since when are you on such good terms with Fury? Since when was anyone on good terms with Fury?

“It must have gotten lost in the mail,” he fires back, “Or maybe it’s because I just happen to be the busiest man in the damn country. Take your pick.”

You roll your eyes, muttering something under your breath, but the good natured smile on your face shows that you didn’t take any of his passive- or straight up- aggressiveness to heart.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was interrupting your little tea time.” He looks around the rest of the room with an edge in his voice. “Don’t you all have work to do?”

“We do,” Tony interrupts, holding up his hand before pointing to Bruce and you. “Everyone else just sorta sits around and looks pretty.”

“I’m gonna go talk to the organisers, see what spots are most vulnerable.” Steve stands up. “You coming?”

“Yep,” Sam responds, flicking Clint’s shoulder to drag him along. “Come on, man. When was the last time you took a shower?”

“I’ll go see what the kids are up to in training. They’re probably flying off the handle right now.” Natasha brushes off crumbs from her lap. “Barnes, you in?”

Bucky silently shakes his head, eyes focused on you as you introduce yourself to every Avenger who walks out of the room, sharing a small fist bump with Sam.

“I’ll do it,” Wanda volunteers instead, finally leaving behind only the Science Bros, you and Bucky in the room with Fury.

“I’ll give you a tour of the lab.” Tony beckons and you nod, following him. “New eyepatch, Fury? Prada, I assume?”

“Stark,” Nick says curtly.

Bucky stares after you, arms still folded across his chest.

“Any problem, Sergeant?”

Other than the fact that his arch nemesis was now working with his friends, no, not really. But that did seem like a pretty big one.

“No,” Bucky mumbles instead, getting up from his place finally.

Apparently, no one else was worried about the possibly lethal combination of you and Stark, even with Banner there to dilute it.

Fine.

Guess he just has to observe you the whole week.

Well, half a week. It was Wednesday.

He observes inconspicuously over the rim of his coffee cup. He has a newspaper spread in front of him at Bruce’s table.

It’s not suspicious. He’s been there multiple times to sit in silence with the scientist who occasionally tinkers with something while engaging Bucky in tidbits of conversation. He finds it calming, refreshing even

Today he has an agenda. Everyone knows about it too.

“You know he’s staring at you, right?” Bruce looks up briefly from the giant blueprint laid in front of the group.

Tony had been dragged away to get a proper meal into him after he stayed up for 36 hours straight with caffeine keeping his system running.

“He has a tendency to do that.” You’re looking over the plan the three of you had come up with the day before. There were certain changes to be made in terms of efficiency. “Turns out if you annoy him, he stares harder.”

“We’ve heard about the inventions. Inators, he calls them?”

“Yeah,” you point out something on the sheet, drawing a circle around it to come back to later, “only good things I hope?”

“He doesn’t really talk much.” Bruce writes down a small comment against your arrow mark. “But if he hated them, he’d have a lot to say. So I’d take it as a compliment.”

“Would it annoy him if I did?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment, then. Pass me the ruler?” You draw a line connecting two pieces.

Bucky’s ability to lip read is excellent but he refuses to do it, for privacy purposes. He knew that SHIELD had pulled some strings and had another teacher substituting for your classes the whole week since your other option was to come only after school hours. Anything else about this plan was murky.

“You gonna sit there all day?” Tony looks over his shoulder, following his line of sight.

“I’ve done it before.” He continues to look over the newspaper at you with your finger extended at something on the blueprint as you explained something to Bruce.

“You look like- how do I say this nicely.” He wasn’t going to. “A fuckin’ stalker.”

“I’m supposed to stop her from doing anything evil.”

“Sure.” Tony snorts. “That’s what this is. Should I get you a fedora and sunglasses while we’re at it?”

Of course Stark wouldn’t care; he brought you into this project. It was pretty much impossible to get him to agree with Bucky.

Bucky just narrows his eyes and continues his observation.

The menu of the cafeteria keeps changing. They like to keep things interesting.

Every time they do, Bucky spends too long staring at the menu, trying to figure out what exactly is familiar enough to order. Vietnamese week had him eating pho the entire duration it stayed.

“You plannin’ on eating anytime this century, sarge?” He recognises your voice immediately.

He knows what time your break is and he knows that you generally eat lunch in the cafeteria with the science team. Generally, the three of you pour over solutions and debate points all through the meal, and he spends the time getting acquainted with his new, lowkey Instagram account.

He blocks the Bucky Barnes hashtag the minute he gets an account again. God save his eyes from people asking him to break their back like a glow-stick. However, one afternoon of accidentally watching three cat videos has led to his entire explore page being taken over by them and he’s been trying for three days to get it to stop.

“Just trying to-” he tilts his head. “-understand what I’m reading.”

“Not a big fan of Greek food?” You join him in looking at the menu.

“Never really had the chance to try.” Tony and Bruce don’t seem to be in the room, probably pushing aside their meal to work on it as they’ve often done.

“Ah.” You already had your order in mind but you wait there.

Two minutes later he’s still staring at the menu. He can feel your presence next to him, unmoving. It unnerves him.

“Why are you still standing here?” He cranes his neck to look at you.

“I’m just seeing how long it takes for you to order.” You shrug. “So far it’s been five minutes and forty six seconds. Forty eight now.”

“Go away.” The concept of someone standing beside him, waiting for him to do something reminded him far too much of him trying to bag his stuff at the grocery counter rapidly while other customers waited to pay.

“Six minutes and thirty seconds. This is just sad now.”

“Your face is sad.” It was pathetic that he had now resorted to this.

It earned a laugh from you.

As entertaining as it was to be able to get on his nerves by just standing silently next to him, you finally ask, “Do you want a recommendation?”

He eyes you wearily. “You gonna give me food poisoning?”

“Not today, no.” You shake your head slightly. “Maybe tomorrow.”

He stares a little longer. You remain unshaken in your offer.

“Fine.” He sighs, stepping aside.

You tell him that since it’s his first time, you’d get him something basic. He thought it made sense.

He argued with you when you ended up paying for the both of you, only shutting up when you told him he’s holding up the line and that he could pay you back later. It doesn’t stop his incessant mumble complaining.

He ends up with gyros at his table and you sitting opposite him with your meal. He asks where the Science Bros are. You tell him it’s Science Hoes now, as christened by Tony, and that they’re in the lab.

“So?” You look at him eagerly.

“What?”

“How is it?” you urge, nodding at him.

He takes a cautious bite, really taking his time with it to annoy your impatient ass.

“Well?” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“It’s-” he pauses, looking down at his food. “-good.”

“Aha.” You lean back victoriously. “Knew it.”

He likes it. He also knows that this is probably going to be the only thing he orders for the next week unless you had planned otherwise.

“You’re not eating?” He gestures to your untouched tray.

“Taking it up to the lab. Got a few things to work on and we’re already behind.” You gather up your stuff and get up.

“Uh-” he pauses from practically inhaling the entire thing. He was already halfway done with it. “-thanks.”

“No problem. You wink at him. “Try figuring out what’s wrong with it.”

You turn on your heel to leave, taking your order with you. He can see your shoulders bobbing with silent laughter.

He stares down at his plate, swallowing slowly.

He pokes at it with a fork, lifting up the leftovers to check if there’s anything underneath. Nothing.

He checks to see if his limbs are still intact or his face was a different colour. Nope.

His stomach twists in worry about what’s going to happen. He still has a bit left but he pushes the tray aside.

The rest of the day he spends supervising you has you occasionally catching his eye, only to laugh. It only freaks him out more.

It takes eight hours of waiting and self induced tests later to realise there was nothing wrong with it. You were just playing with him.

He’s surprised to find you in the rec room when he strolls in with Sam, given that you haven’t taken a break all day.

You don’t share the same surprise... almost like you expected him.

“How long have you been waiting for me?” he immediately asks.

"I wasn’t here for you.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Heard that Wilson was makin’ an appearance here soon so I stopped by to get a good look at him."

"Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Sam laughs, inserting a dollar into the machine and punching in the code for what he wanted.

"Gladly. Strike a pose, would you?" You grin, raising your phone.

“Maybe when I’m not covered in sweat.” Sam counter offers and you accept with a thumbs up.

“You going to the parade, Sam?” You toy with the can in your hands.

“I’ll be working security, so probably.”

“Sarge?” You take a swig of your drink.

“Huh?” He snaps back into the conversation, putting a stop to the mental list of reasons he was making of why you could be here at the same time as him. He knew your schedule, it wouldn’t be very hard for you to figure out his.

“You coming to the parade on Sunday?” you ask again.

“I guess.”

You wince.

“What?” he asks instantly, curiosity making him a lot sloppier than usual.

“It’s just- you wear so much black.” You gesture to his current getup to prove your point. ”I feel like all the bright colours would vaporise you if you looked at them.”

He doesn’t look amused.

“You know, like Prince Philip.”

“I think I’ll be fine.” He gives you a sarcastic smile.

“You comin’ Buck?” Sam laughs, unwrapping the bar he bought from the machine.

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Bucky says offhandedly, still glaring at you innocently drinking your soda.

Sam chews absentmindedly on his protein bar as he walks out, amused at the situation Bucky pulled himself into.

“What’d you do?” Bucky asks, studying your body language.

“I bought a soda.” You lift the can to prove your point. “And now I’m drinking it.”

“Why are you waiting for me?”

“I thought I’d return the favour,” you point out. “I’m supervising you.”

“Don’t.” He walks to the vending machine, pulling out his wallet for some loose change. There was a Snickers bar he had been craving since morning that he bought every alternate day. Small joys.

“Why? I have the time.” You take a sip, setting it down with a clang.

“You’re only here for this week.” Bucky counted the coins he had. He’d use a dollar but he was trying to get rid of the jingling in his pocket that made him sound like a fucking clown when he walked.

“Actually,” you begin innocuously, “Tony offered me a full-time position.”

Bucky’s movements stop, hunched over the money in his palm.

“What?”

“Yeah.” You nod seriously. “A full nine-to-five as a researcher here.”

“And you’re taking it.” He shakes himself out of the minor shock to assess the damage.

“I don’t know. I got a lot of things to consider.” The chair scrapes against the tiled floor as you stand up. “But maybe you should get used to seeing me a lot more around here.”

He punches in the code for his Snickers. The row whirs forward slowly.

“See you at the lab.” He hears you discard the empty can in the trash before exiting.

He waits patiently for his bar to drop while his mind internally screams about the consequences of having you work here. You wouldn’t be evil anymore. Unless you were here to steal secrets from the Tower. On the pro side, his weekend would be free again. On the con side, his weekend would be free again.

His bar stops right at the edge of the row. He waits for it to fall over. It doesn’t.

He shakes the machine, suppressing the primal urge to beat the shit out of it when the damn bar refuses to fall.

He punches in a few random buttons hoping that at least it would give his money back.

The little monitor instead flashes a new message across the screen.

‘Have a good day, sarge <3’

Motherfucker.

Captain America looks less daunting up close, you realise. But he is still a very large man with very large shoulders. You know at least four people who would like to scale him like a tree, not that you’d ever tell him.

“Hey, Y/N.” He sends you a small smile when you walk into the room for a mid-week update. A clipboard in your hand, report attached and a few stationery items in case some points needed to be noted done, you look professional and ready.

“Afternoon, Captain.” Tony saves a seat for you and Bruce beside him since you’re on the same project. You almost miss the fact that Bucky isn’t in the room.

He walks in a few minutes late; tall, dark and brooding, immediately bringing the excitement in the room down by 40% by just existing.

Bucky surveys the room before catching your eye. He picks up his chair with ease and drags it over to where you are, sitting right beside you, ignoring the small cry of protest from an agent whose view he now obstructed. Everyone else just silently shifted over.

“Clingy much?” you whisper at him, eyes still trained on Steve who had waited till everyone was seated to continue.

“I’m supposed t’be keeping an eye on you,” he rebuffs in a hush.

“Well, you’re late. What if I went rogue, huh?”

“Therapy ran overtime,” he mumbles.

“Oh.” You blink. “How was it?”

“Same old.”

“You good?”

He refrains from answering when Steve starts addressing the room but yes, he was fine. He sends you a nod to confirm.

“This is just a usual checking in. We’ve received all your reports, but just to keep everyone on the same page-”

Bucky logs out mentally. He knows what his job is, he’ll probably lead a division of the security team or join the mission to neutralise the threat in case they find it first. Either way, he’ll figure it out without having to listen to an intern nervously stammer their way through their team’s report.

On the other hand, you’re not listening either. You were until you saw Bucky’s eyes glaze over while glowering at the window, assuming that he had stopped paying attention when his gaze doesn’t shift.

You should be listening. You’re new here and you should know what’s going on because any bits of detail are crucial to the working of your system.

Instead, you rip out a sticky note and discreetly place it on the back of Bucky’s metal arm. He doesn’t notice.

You bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling. More post-its from your pile of stationery make their way onto the vibranium, shades of pink, purple, green and yellow decorating his arm like a bulletin board.

You’re about to contemplate sticking one on his shoulder blade when he whips around to look at you. You freeze, hand in the air with a sticky note. He looks down at his arm, a scoff escaping him in disbelief.

“Are you serious?” He twists his arm to check the extent of how far you’ve gone. “What are you, six?”

“How’d it take you so long to notice?” You watch as he tugs them off one by one, counting to see how many you had managed to get on there.

“It’s impossible not to zone out in these shitty meetings,” he mumbles, pulling off the last one, crumpling all of them into a ball to throw at you. You skilfully avoid them.

“Don’t you feel pressure or heat or anything here?” You poke at his metal arm.

“No.” He clenches and releases the fist. “It can block bullets though.”

You snort. “Bet that’s a popular line in bed.”

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, it helps that I can’t feel anything. Sometimes,” he adds the last part as an afterthought.

“Like when you’re blocking bullets.”

“Especially then.” He nods.

“Would you ever want to?” you ask casually. “Like if you got the choice, would you prefer having feeling in that arm?”

“I don’t know.” He’s thought about it, but it doesn’t seem feasible in his line of work. He’d like it, though, to feel sand slipping through his fingers and the comforter under his palm. “Maybe when I’m retired.”

“Aren’t you well past that age?”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes. “And pay attention. You’re next.”

“So you are listening.” True to his word, Steve asks about what’s going on with your team. “Traitor.”

Tony shoots off about how you only had to test it out on a small batch first to see if you could acquire the targeted data without compromising anything else. You chime in about a few specifics, and Bruce more or less just confirms what you both are saying, only stopping to let them know that you’d be finished in a day or two.

Steve nods, moving on to the next committee.

“Did I get a good grade?” you whisper when you lean back again.

“B minus at best.”

“Fuck you, dude. I was great,” you protested. “It’s definitely worth a gold sticker.”

Someone shushes you sharply. You apologise quietly, whacking Bucky’s metal arm when you see a dumb smirk on his face.

He narrows his eyes at you.

You try sticking another post-it on him.

You’re only here for a week. That’s what he’s been told. Over six times, actually, after which he’s been told to go away the next time he asked.

No one’s brought up the job offer so he asks Tony if it was true and all he gets is a dismissive ‘yeah, whatever’. Besides, you haven’t told him if you accepted or denied it yet so isn’t sure if this entire thing is set in stone, per se.

So then why do you have a giant box of your belongings that you’re lugging around the lab, looking to set down?

And why does Tony allow you a table right in the centre of the lab for everyone to see as soon as they walk in?

There are a gazillion trinkets, picture frames and obnoxiously bright stationery that stands out against the dull minimalism of the lab.

“Every single one of these is a fire hazard,” he reports, standing over your desk.

You give him a side glance before reaching over to the side of your desk, pulling up a fire extinguisher and setting it on the table in front of him. “I came prepared, bitch boy.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response. He chooses to look at what exactly you’ve brought with you because it’s a lot.

There are small cards with ‘thank you!’ sprawled on them in uneven lettering, bits and pieces of paper with small cartoons on them, little clay models and other miniature trophies with ‘you’re the best!’ under it.

“Your students gave you these?” He can’t remember the last time he gave his teacher anything other than a headache.

“Sometimes they learn or communicate better when they have something to keep their hands busy.” There’s a certain fondness in your voice that he isn’t used to hearing. “I end up with a lot of doodles and craft.”

“’s nice of them.” He can tell that this means a lot to you. He hasn’t seen it before.

He thinks the little decorations are adorable and maybe he’d keep another fire extinguisher on hand, just in case.

Until you start pulling out a set of framed photos and his smile drops.

Several collages of Bucky in flower crowns, him with terribly edited backgrounds of beaches and mountains, a photo of him laughing with ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ next to it in an italicised font.

“What the fuck,” he states, grabbing one of them.

You stifle a laugh, pulling out several more to place along your table.

“Where did you fucking get these?” He starts pulling them off the table one by one.

“I don’t think you know how much the internet is obsessed with you.” You set an especially large one of him in a Hello Kitty bowtie right in the centre. He doesn’t miss the star shaped frame you chose for this.

“What is wrong with you?” He swipes that up immediately, looking for a place to discard, possibly burn these pictures. “Why do you even have these?”

“It’s imperative that people know we’re friends.” You bite your lip, bringing out the last thing to annoy him.

“What is that?” A teddy bear with a blue jacket and a grey felt arm stared into his soul.

“A Bucky bear.” Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh. “Limited edition.”

He snatches it along with the fifteen other picture frames, thinly veiled distress and mostly disgust on his face.

“I hate you.”

“But I love you.” You lift the small heart shaped locket you hung on one of the pictures of your class.

You use both your hands to click it open for him, watching his face morph into one of disbelief.

Bucky my beloved, it read on the right with a small picture of him on the left looking intensely disgruntled. He doesn’t bother asking where you found that specific picture of him outside a Burger King at 3am.

He doesn’t even make an effort to take it away this time. He knows that you’ll simply bring up more and more until you drove him crazy.

“You still have to see the Avengers calendar.” You reach for the inside. “I changed all the pictures to you, it looks great-”

He turns around and leaves before you get a chance to flip open the pages.

He wanders around, looking for the best disposal area he can find. He knows there’s a giant fireplace in the common room in the Tower, and for that, he’d have to go up a couple of floors.

He steps into the elevator, chin pressing down on the several picture frames in his hands to prevent them from falling over.

No one sees him carrying a couple of fan edited pictures and merchandise of him. Which was good.

Unfortunately, the doors ding open on the next floor and his best friend steps on with possibly the worst timing ever.

“Buck?” Steve sounds confused. He should be, considering the sight.

Bucky shimmies slightly to get a better grip on his belongings. “Steven.”

Steve glances at what he’s holding.

“Is this,” Steve pauses, trying to frame his words correctly to sound as supportive as possible, “a therapy thing?”

“No.”

Steve waits for a further explanation.

“It’s Y/N’s,” he elucidates. Steve’s eyebrows furrow.

“Why are there so many pictures of you?” He looks at the content in his hands a little closer. “And a bear.”

“She’s evil. And I hate her.”

“Alright.” It doesn’t answer his question but his friend looks irked enough.

The elevator dings to the common room floor.

Bucky turns on his heel to head toward the place to set all the pictures on fire. He saves the picture frames to give back to you though, he’s sure those cost money. But he makes sure every last square inch of the picture with several hearts around his portrait burns to ash.

Bucky knows that by the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, the three of you would have been working for thirty hours straight, scrambling to get the last minute details done.

You’re still at it but he can tell through the adrenaline of the upcoming deadline that you’re exhausted.

Now he’s grouchy but he’s not an asshole. He’s already done two coffee runs for the team and brought you food when you didn’t show up for lunch. He mumbles something and dismisses it when you call out a ‘thank you’ his way. He considers it a debt repaid for the gyros.

He’s still keeping an eye on you but along with an emergency box of doughnuts for any sugar rushes that may be needed and bottles of water that he occasionally leaves at the corner of the table for you three to subconsciously keep yourself hydrated.

“Are you sure we checked it?”

“Yes.” Bruce nods.

“Double checked it?”

“Yes.”

“Triple checked it.”

“Yes.”

You look satisfied enough to move on to the next item. “Pass me the welding torch for a second.”

Bucky has a book in front of him that he hasn’t moved beyond the second page of. He’s more interested in seeing who collapses from burnout first. He has the infirmary on speed dial.

After another hour or so Tony holds up a silver tablet, roughly the same size as a smartphone, examining it from all sides.

“That’s it,” he states. “The final product.”

You exhale lightly.

“We should name it.” You have your hands on your hips, looking down at it in wonder. Maybe the zero hours of sleep was finally kicking in because you couldn’t believe you were finally done.

“You got any suggestions?” Tony asks.

To be frank, no, you didn’t.

“No.”

“Okay, we’ll do that later.” Tony sets it down, not sounding too disappointed. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, tell the team to get down here, please.”

“Yes, boss.”

Bucky jumps off his chair to join you in the lab, leaving the book behind.

It only takes a few moments for the others to join. Fury and Steve walk in together, already engaged in conversation.

“Greetings.” You clap your hands together. “We did it. We think.”

“We think?” Nick raises an eyebrow.

“We know,” Bruce clarifies quickly, stepping in. “We’re positive it works. We tested it out.”

Tony pulls up the holograph of F.R.I.D.AY’s system, sliding the tablet to the middle of the table.

“Is it secured under FRIDAY’s core?”

“Locked and loaded.” Tony hits the table lightly to signify that it was safe.

“I think we’re ready,” Bruce confirms.

“We better be, or else half the country is suddenly going to lose their internet connection,” you say under your breath.

“What?” Bucky’s eyebrows knit together.

“Nothing,” you beamed, “Okay F.R.I.D.A.Y., run sequence, global parameter.”

“Running sequence,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. parrots.

There was no going back now.

From what Bucky can see, Tony looks fairly confident but you have your bottom lip caged between your teeth, chewing on it nervously.

There are several hundreds of photographs popping up and disappearing within a minute. Everything looks like it’s going according to plan.

The giant holograph of the AI dims. Your face drops when F.R.I.D.A.Y. seems to sputter to a halt.

No one breathes.

In the midst of the tension, Clint mutters if they should play some background music. It’s followed by a swift ‘ow’ when Natasha flicks him in the shoulder.

You could hear a pin drop.

It suddenly picks back up again, running faster than the last time and the sigh everyone collectively heaves is almost comical.

It runs for a few seconds more before a list of names suddenly pop up accompanied by a series of photographs and geo locations.

“Sequence complete. Six names detected, zero encroachment on public or private databases,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. broadcasted. “Location determined to be Holland. Exact coordinates are computed into the quinjet.”

You let out a small cheer, looping your arm around Bruce, squeezing him in a half hug. He has a smile on his face, dropping his head as he laughs slightly.

“How dangerous are they?” Tony, however, continues to ask.

“A few prior convictions and a series of similar threats. Danger level determined to be at approximately five out of ten.”

“That’s not bad,” Steve commented. “Looks like we don’t need the full team there.”

“Romanoff, Barton, Wilson, Rogers can go ahead and take care of that,” Nick finally spoke up. “Everyone else is working security tomorrow, just in case anyone else decides that terrorism is on their fuckin’ to-do list for the day.”

“Buck, assemble a team and go over strategy for tomorrow,” Steve adds on. “Everyone else go suit up, wheels up in thirty minutes.”

“Fuckin’ Holland,” Sam scoffs, shaking his head. “Of all the places.”

“What do you have against Holland?” Nat asks as they leave together.

“Just don’t like ‘em.” Their voices grow faint the further they get.

“Hey.” A small greeting from behind you has you turning around.

Wanda stands in front of you and you have to ignore the fact that the most powerful being on Earth is talking to you.

“Hey,” you say back.

“I just wanted to say congratulations. You did a great job.” Bits and pieces of her accent poked out. She didn’t seem like she was putting in the effort to cover it up as opposed to the press interviews you had heard a few years ago.

“Thank you.” You smile. “T’was a team effort.”

“Well, we owe you one anyway,” Steve joins the conversation, leaving aside Tony who was still talking to Bruce.

“I wish I was humble enough to turn it down but I’m not.” You laugh. “It’s nice to have an arsenal of superheroes at my disposal.”

Steve looks like he’s going to respond but his attention is drawn towards F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s announcement that the quinjet was ready to go. He shoots you an apologetic look but you sign for him to go on, you’d meet with him later.

You watch as he claps Tony on the back, telling him to go get some sleep and something with more nutritional value than a pizza pocket in him, nodding at Bruce before taking leave.

“Y/L/N,” Nick stands beside you, looking ahead at the conversations being had as Steve tugs Clint along with him.

“Nicky,” you tease.

“I know at least seven underground prisons I can put you in if anyone hears you calling me that,” he says stoically.

“We all know you won’t get rid of me.” You shake your head. “Who’s gonna send you a Christmas card then, huh?”

He simply shakes his head, jutting his hand out and offering a handshake. “Not sure anyone here could handle another day of a highly caffeinated, sleep-deprived Stark.”

“Just say ‘thanks’, Nick, geez.” You roll your eyes.

Bucky watches the entire interaction unfurl; only the body language, not employing the lip-reading ability.

“You’re welcome.” You let go of his hand, a devilish look on your face. “You know what I want in return.”

Nick gives you a long, hard stare that could probably melt through Steve’s shield before turning around to leave.

But Bucky doesn’t miss the subtle high-five he gives you while walking out, unbeknownst to anyone else, bringing the biggest grin to your face.

He makes it a point to ask you what the fuck kind of leverage you have over the man for him to play favourites with you.

You finally collapse at your desk, letting out a loud exhale. You clench your eyes shut, your body finally melting into your chair. You look exhausted.

He’s not sure how to help. You don’t seem like you have the energy to tell him.

Bucky leaves a doughnut and water bottle on the table in front of you before shuffling out of the room quietly.

He’s certain that he’s spent far too long in Bruce’s lab this week. He liked the man as much as the next guy, but he probably wouldn’t come down there for the foreseeable future.

You’re at your assigned desk, reading light illuminating the space. Thankfully you’ve cleared up most of your stuff from the table, leaving no more liabilities to fall over in case he walked into the desk.

“So you’re done for the week.” His voice surprises you. You were scrolling through your phone, slightly hunched over.

“It appears so.” You put your phone down, swivelling the chair to look at him.

“How’d it go?” He leans against your table, making sure he isn’t using his full weight.

“Well, I slept for fifteen hours straight, so...” you leave him to connect the dots. He’s done the same several times.

“You’re probably gonna need more,” he says, mostly from his own experience, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Actually-” you reach beside your table and lug your gigantic box of belongings onto the table with a loud thud, “-you won’t.”

He looks at the box that was nearly overflowing with its contents, the majority of the space being taken up by empty picture frames. “I thought you said Tony offered you a job.”

“He did,” you confirm. “I didn’t accept.”

“Why?” He watches you shift through a few things, adjusting it so that it wouldn’t fall over.

“This whole thing- it’s cool and all, but it’s not what I want to do.” You shrug. “I like teaching. I miss my class.”

He gaze lands on one of the thank you notes sticking out from the corner of the box. “Ah.”

“Back to school from tomorrow.”

“And evil on the weekends?” he prods, dropping a pen into the heap of stationery.

“Obviously.” You give him a lopsided smile. “Where else am I gonna use all this brilliance?”

You point to your head. He lets out a small exhale in the form of a laugh.

“Speaking of-” You look like you just remembered something.

You rummage through your backpack and pull out a small container, handing it to him.

“What’s this?” He turns it over, looking for any hidden clues. “Are you proposing again, because I’ve said no-”

“I’m not proposing,” you interrupt, “yet.”

He gives you a deadpan look.

“Open it,” you urge, and he complies.

Two small squares sit side-by-side. They’re slick black, barely bigger than the face of a dice.

“You put one of them here-” You tap on his bicep “-and the other here.” You tap his shoulder, a few inches below his clavicle.

“What does it do?” He thinks it’s like Nat’s little taser things, a nifty little tool that he could use on missions.

“It, uh-” you hesitate “-it allows you to feel sensation in your metal arm. Heat, pressure, texture.”

His breath hitches in his throat. He doesn’t mean for it to happen, it just does.

“You said that sometimes you’re glad you couldn’t because of the bullets and stuff. They’re detachable, so just take them off when you go on missions and wherever it is you Spandex ambassadors go.” You scoff slightly.

He can’t remember the last time he felt something soft with that arm or used it for something that wasn’t directly related to his job.

“I’m not messing with what the Wakandans gave you. It’s the most advanced piece of tech out there.” You shrug. “But if you ever want to feel it when someone attaches sticky notes to your arm, this could work. Just thought it’d be nice to have an option.”

He can’t decipher what he’s feeling right now. He looks up at you, only to catch you eyeing him cautiously, assessing his reaction. When you notice he’s looking at you, a nervous smile makes its way onto your face.

His stomach does a flip.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

“Don’t mention it.” You sound a little relieved, picking up the box that he’s pretty sure weighed a ton what with all his memorabilia in it. “See you next week.”

He doesn’t know how to explain what it means to him.

Instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing later?”

“Nothing.” You pause. “Why?”

“Are you gonna watch the parade?”

“Yeah, probably.” You shift your weight to your other leg to compensate for the box.

“Want some company?”

“Aren’t you heading a security division?” You have to consciously hide the bewilderment from your voice.

“Yeah. The place I’m stationed just so happens to have a good look into the street,” he explains, toying with the bracelet on his wrist. “Can’t really promise that I’ll be paying attention to it or that I’d even be there the whole time but for the most part...” he trails off.

“Uh-” You force yourself to shove aside your surprise at his determination, “yeah, sure. That’d be cool.”

He nods. “Okay. See you there.”

“See you,” you murmur as you walk to the elevator.

He opens the tiny container to look at the small chips. They’re still there, silently like they don’t change his world just by existing.

Gosh.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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redhairedwolfwitch · 3 years

Text

Doctor Y/n - Residency - 22 - Grey's Anatomy x Fem!Reader

Joey: Am I really that bad of a cook?

Braces: I'm so glad it's not me who has to buy new pans for your future cooking attempts

Joey: You're delightful

Braces: keep an eye on the pans and keep stirring, otherwise it sticks and burns, ruining the pan

///

Joey: can i come over?

Braces: yeah, i'm just making dinner, is everything okay?

Joey: red

///

"What happened?" You asked, glancing over your shoulder to spot Jo entering the apartment whilst your hands focussed on not burning the pan full of pasta sauce.

"As you know from living with me, there's going to be more than enough pasta here, do you want some?" You asked as Jo pulled on your Yale hoodie as it sat on the bed, heading towards the couch.

It didn't take you long to serve dinner, walking over to hand Jo her bowl and a cup of water.

You'd barely sat down and had a mouthful of pasta in your mouth when Jo finally spoke.

"He wants to get married. He's ready but I..." Jo sighed, downing the water and starting to eat the pasta.

"He's not shown any signs he's found us, right?" You asked, leaving Jo to freeze.

"Sorry I brought it up, it's just, you can't marry Alex because you're still married to that piece of shit, but filing the papers puts us on his radar." You murmured, watching Jo hurriedly eat the pasta before standing up.

"Where are you going?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Bar. Are you coming or am I drinking alone?" Jo retorted, leaving you to sigh, hurriedly pulling a hoodie over your head that Hannah had left behind, saying you could keep it if she could keep one of flannel shirts.

"I'm not drinking, but I'll sit with you and make sure nothing happens." You affirmed, leaving Jo to huff as you hurried after her out the door.

///

You'd left Jo with Steph whilst you were in the bathroom at the bar.

You didn't expect to leave the bathroom and find Jo with DeLuca.

"DeLuca, are you fit to drive? Because I am still learning to drive and Joey's wasted.... and I need to find her purse." You concluded, leaving DeLuca to try stop Jo from walking around as you eventually found it.

"Wilson's already married?" DeLuca asked you, leaving you to choke on your spit.

"It's, it's a long story-"

"You and her-"

"Oh, if that were the situation, the story wouldn't be so terrible." You admitted, leaving DeLuca to frown.

"How terrible-" DeLuca began but Jo was already trying to get out of the car as he parked.

"Okay, bed time." DeLuca began, helping you led Jo over to the bed at your apartment. Jo had murmured about her bed but she didn't have her keys for her loft apartment with Alex, so your bed the two of you used to share would have to do.

"I'll get you some water, okay?" DeLuca stated, nodding to you as you pulled some clothes out so Jo wouldn't be sleeping in ripped jeans.

"I was living in my car, do you know, when I lived in my car, and then I met him and I wasn't living in my car anymore, everybody loved him, everyone but Braces, she, she didn't like him. I did..." Jo rambled as she began to change, leaving DeLuca to ask what Jo was doing but you just shrugged and kept being a privacy shield for Jo whilst giving her the clothes.

"I wanna go to bed... never wanted anyone to stop loving him, so if I bought the wrong something, he would hit me in my face, or my stoamch or... nobody knew that but me... but Braces figured it out. She got me out of there. So we ran, we had to make sure he would never find me, find us..."

"and if you try divorce him...." DeLuca realised, leaving you to sigh.

"He would find her, and I'm terrified I won't be able to protect her." You explained, continuing to be a privacy shield as DeLuca stood in the kitchen part of your studio apartment.

"Does anyone else know any of this?" DeLuca asked, leaving Jo to keep rambling.

"No, no, Alex would try to protect me, but he can't. Braces can try, but at least she knows my real name, Alex doesn't." Jo rambled as she removed her top, leaving you to carefully swoop in and pull the oversized shirt over her head to dress her.

"DeLuca, I should warn you, Alex might come here looking for Joey, and we don't need him drawing the wrong conclusions. For all we know, if I wasn't here, you would have taken Joey back to her loft she shares with him, and he could have battered you." You warned him, leaving DeLuca to nod and take his leave whilst you put Jo to bed.

"I'm not going to let him lay a finger on you, Joey. Never again." You whispered, brushing the hair from Jo's face as she began to go to sleep.

You had no idea that Alex had seen DeLuca leaving your apartment, or what had happened afterwards.

/// Running after people wasn't something you usually did.

If they were leaving, you never fought for them to stay because nobody really stayed.

You needed to speak to Callie before she left for New York though.

"Callie! Callie Torres! Wait!" You shouted, sprinting through the terminal.

Callie turned around with confusion in her eyes until she spotted you tripping over someone's suitcase.

"S/n, what are you doing here?" Callie asked as you stood up, quietly apologising to the person whose suitcase you'd fallen over.

"Did you think you were leaving without saying goodbye? I have abandonment issues, you have to let me say goodbye or I'll cry... too late, I'm already crying. Ortho is going to suck without you." You exclaimed, hapharzardly wiping at your eyes as Callie grinned.

"Does that mean what I think it means?"

"I'm looking at ortho fellowships, yeah." A laugh left your lips as Callie squealed, grinning as you laughed.

"Then I'm calling you my Mini-Me, officially. You are going to take Seattle by storm, and I hope you consider New York, if Seattle is stupid enough to let you slip through their fingers." Callie stated, squeezing your shoulder before her flight was called.

"See you around, Callie Torres." You smiled, leaving Callie to give you a soft smile as she began to board.

"See you around, Mini-Me."

///

You were sat on your bed, watching Jo sleep when your phone began to ring.

"Oh, hell!" You exclaimed, reading the message that DeLuca was in the hospital.

"What, where am I? Braces, what's wrong?"

"DeLuca's in the ER." You replied, grabbing your bag.

"Why, why do you look so-"

"I told DeLuca to head out in case Alex came over and got the wrong idea, clearly, he still got the wrong idea. This is all my fault." You explained, but Jo sobbing caught your attention.

"Damn, I'm sorry Joey, I'm so sorry." You were cut off as the doorbell rang.

"Who is it?"

"S/n, it's Doctor Webber. Are you and Wilson okay?" Doctor Webber asked, leaving you to hurry over to the door as Jo began to realise what she'd told DeLuca.

"DeLuca drove us back here from the bar, I told him to go, but then I get messaged he's in the ER, so I have no idea how he got hurt." You admitted, leaving Webber to pause.

"Well, if you two want to talk-" Webber was cut off as Jo ran past, trying to get to the hospital.

"Jo, you're still drunk, let me at least call a cab, if you're still insisting on going to the hospital!"

///

"You two okay?" Alex asked, looking up as you and Jo appeared.

"Listen, Alex..."

"How is he doing?" You cut Jo off, walking over the patient room to get a glance in.

"Holy- that eye needs surgery, doesn't it?" You asked but Alex and Jo kept talking.

"I was drunk and I was upset and Braces was there the entire time, DeLuca didn't do anything-"

"You were upset? This was about me?" Alex heard but you sighed, ignoring them both.

"It's like I said, it's not your fault, it's easier to just throw people away when things get bad, it's not you, it's the way you were raised or not-"

"Karev-"

"I wanted to marry you. I was asking for something you're not capable of. I should have known better."

The sobs leaving Jo's lips were the only reason you didn't run after Karev and punch him.

///

"There you two are!" Steph's voice had you pausing from where Jo was packing her bags, you were leaning against the lockers in thought as Jo asked what Steph was doing here.

"Webber called me, he thought you two would be with me, he said DeLuca got beat up and then you two ran off. What the hell happened? What are you doing?"

"I'm leaving."

"Y/n still doesn't have her license, right? I'll drive you-"

"She's leaving, leaving." You stated as you and Jo explained what had happened.

///

"So, where are we going?" You enquired, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as Jo glanced up from her phone to you.

"I made a mess, Braces."

"I told him to leave in case Alex found him in our apartment, I didn't consider he'd turn up and see him leaving. This is my fault-"

"No, it's not, it's mine!" Jo retorted, leaving you to flinch as you heard Webber's voice.

"You two are not leaving. Whatever happened, you won't get it fixed by running from it, and you won't gain anything from quitting. I won't let you. You two ditched me once today, I won't let it happen again." Webber argued, leading the two of you inside to DeLuca's patient room.

///

"Who's there?" DeLuca murmured, looking around with a struggle as Jo stepped forwards.

"I'm sorry."

"Jo? Are you okay? Are you and Y/n-"

"We're okay. But you're not... I'm so sorry." You apologised, leaving DeLuca to sigh.

"You two tell me, how am I looking?" DeLuca asked as Jo gently took DeLuca's hand.

"You look really ugly-"

"Like one giant bruise."

"Don't make me laugh, it hurts." DeLuca groaned, leaving you to wince as Jo apologised again.

"I should have realised he could have seen you-"

"Y/n, this isn't your fault. It's his." DeLuca stated whilst Jo brought up what she had said about being married.

"I thought you two came here because you cared-"

"No-"

"We did-"

"No, it's cool, your secret's safe. You need to find better guys-" DeLuca was cut off as Alex appeared in the doorway.

"Karev, you shouldn't-" you were cut off as DeLuca began to panic, hitting his alarm as Jo took Alex out of the room.

"Oh god..." You mumbled, following Jo as the two of you went to find Webber.

///

Jo's gasp had you glancing up to follow her eyeline.

Your eyes met Karev's as he was being escorted out of the hospital in handcuffs.

"Oh god."

///

Tags: @nnightskiess @emskisworld

#grey's anatomy x reader #grey's anatomy imagine #grey's anatomy #jo wilson x reader #jo wilson imagine #jo wilson #alex karev #andrew deluca #richard webber #stephanie edwards #callie torres

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holylulusworld · 3 years

Text

More than their roommate (3 of Arc 1)

Summary: Slowly the lines between lust and feelings blur and someone tries to destroy your blooming relationship.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader x Sam Wilson

Characters: Director Nick Fury, Maria Hill, OFC

Warnings: language, bickering, smut, fingering, light oral, possible FATWS spoilers, hurt & comfort, cuddling & snuggling, polyamory, bad therapy etiquette, mentions of non-con filming, extorsion, mentions of former abusive relationship, implied smut

A/N: Part 3/3 of (Arc 1) - The Therapist

Divider by @firefly-graphics

<< Part 2

Since you moved in with the boys, they work together like a well-oiled machine.

Fury wanted to know your secret, but this is something you’ll never share.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky and Sam, Fury already found out why your roommates work better together.

He saw the footage from their office and more than one from your shared loft.

Someone sneaked into your home, installed cameras, and filmed you anytime you had sex with one of your roommates – or both.

“Sam,” you gasp, looking at Sam between your legs. He has you on the edge of an orgasm but won’t let you fall. “We got no time. Fury wanted an emergency meeting this morning, with all of us.

“Yeah?” he looks up at you, smirking as you admire his face, covered in your slick. “I’m just having a snack before we go, babe,” Sam grins, diving back in to wrap his lips around your oversensitive clit.

“Ah, fuck – Sam!” you cry, grinding against his face. “Please, I need a shower, fix some papers, and make a few calls,” you say, breathlessly. “Let me cum, please.”

“Alright, lemme just-“ Sam slides three fingers inside of your cunt, presses his fingertips against the roof of your vagina. “I’m gonna make you cum now and we have a shower together. I wonder why Fury called you in the middle of the night…”

“So sexy,” Sam kisses your sweet spot, leaves open-mouthed kisses along your neck. “What are we doing here, Y/N? I’m not complaining but is this something serious or just fun?”

“Honestly,” you turn around to face Sam, running your loofah over his chest, “I don’t know. All I can tell you is that I never did something like this before with two men. When I’m with you and James, I feel-“

“Complete,” he whispers, stopping your hands from cleaning his body. “Y/N, we need to talk about this. I don’t think Bucky can lose someone else. He already lost so much.”

“I’m not here to break your hearts,” you touch Sam’s cheek, just looking up at him for a moment. “I like you both, a lot. Right now, I can’t call it love yet, but if I would ever fall in love with someone again, it would be you and him…”

“Doc carries her own package, huh?” Bucky wonders, flipping through the pages of your file. “Did we find out who the douche breaking her heart was?”

“Not so loud,” Sam tuts. “After what she told me this morning, I asked a friend to dig a bit deeper. Sharon said Y/N left her former job, a well-paid position as someone broke her heart.”

“What do with the information now? I don’t think she wants us to stick our noses into her-“ Bucky bites his tongue when you walk into the living room.

“Ready?” you ask, brows furrowed in a silent question. “What? Do I have something on my face? Damn, is there a visible bite mark at my neck?”

“No, you just look so sexy in your professional outfit, doll,” Bucky grins, holding out his hand. “Do we have to go to the office today?”

“Fury said it’s important, James,” you tut. “Let’s be professional for once, okay. I know you hate meetings, but this is unavoidable.”

“Why is this woman here?” Bucky eyes the foreign woman warily, not missing you squirm in your seat. “Something wrong, doc?”

Sam can see a hint of fear flash across your face before you clear your throat.

“This is Sarah Murphy, our expert for, let’s say internal affairs,” Fury huffs, hating he must have this specific conversation with you. “Let’s get this over with, Ms. Murphy.”

“Director Fury asked me to be here today to make sure whatever we discuss, stay within these walls. I can assure you, the material we will show to you, will not leave this room either and no one but Director Fury saw the footage.”

“Footage?” you furrow your brows, confusion is written all over your face and you clutch your hands to your chest in attempt to calm your racing heart. “Did you spy on one of us?”

“None of us spied on you, Doctor Y/L/N. I always appreciate your hard work. Sadly, someone sent us this,” Fury points at the laptop Sarah Murphy placed on the desk. “I want you to watch the footage, all of it. Ms. Murphy and I will leave the room meanwhile.”

“I don’t understand,” you panic, grasping for Sam’s hand to squeeze it tightly. “Why do you want us to watch videos?”

“I must tell you before we leave the room, that someone sent us the footage, along with a few demands,” Fury stands, gives Sam a curt nod before he turns to leave the room. “In other words, someone tries to extort us. I will tell you about the details later.”

When it’s only you and your roommates you look at the laptop, afraid to watch whatever someone filmed. “I don’t want to watch this.”

“We must,” Sam says, breaking the tension, just pressing play. “Whoever filmed us or one of us will pay for it.”

“Maybe it’s not that bad,” Bucky tries, metal hand balled into a fist. “Maybe that bastard only filmed me doing push-ups or-“

The first thing you recognize is your hoarse voice, and the slap of skin against skin. Your eyes widen in horror when you watch yourself getting fucked by Sam while you watch Bucky jerk off and later on, covering your body with his cum.

“No,” your body starts to tremble, and you can barely feel the hand touching yours when the scene changes to another video.

It’s in the kitchen this time, you bend over the kitchen island, Bucky’s hands hold you down by your shoulders while he fucks you roughly, calling you his whore.

“No-no-no-“ Bucky stops the video, clicks on the next one. This time you get fucked in their office, not days ago. “Stop this, Bucky-“ you cry, hiding your face in the palm of your hands. “Someone invaded our privacy just like that.”

“Baby doll,” slamming his metal fist into the laptop, destroying it on his way Bucky feels his chest tightening. He knows how it feels to have no privacy. “I will rip whoever did this to you apart.”

“So someone filmed us at our home and sent it to Fury. Then the same person filmed us at our office and did the same again,” Sam tries to not freak out. He hates you choke out sobs, desperate to forget about what you just saw. “But why?”

“We should ask Fury,” you whisper, not fighting Bucky when he brings you in his arms to cradle you gently. “Sam, you should talk. I-I can’t right now and Bucky, he’s too mad.”

“I’ll go get Fury,” Sam swallows thickly. He slowly gets up to kiss your hair softy, hand gently smoothing over your arm. “We will handle this, baby. No one is going to see this ever again.”

“We-We looked hot, at least,” you try to laugh, but choke on your tears instead. “I hate someone did this to us. It’s not only about me, but you and Bucky too, Sam. How dare them?”

“I’m going to kill them,” Bucky growls. “Rip them apart, limp by worthless limp…”

“Do we know who did this?” Sam asks while you sit between Bucky and Sam, not meeting Fury’s eyes. “Director?”

“I need to get this off my chest, doctor,” Fury sighs. “Whatever you do in your free time, is up to you.”

You nod, still not looking up. “Do we have a name or a reason why?”

“Sergeant Barnes, this has nothing to do with you, if you would just calm down,” Bucky starts to pace the room, jaw ticking, hands balled into fists. “I know you were on the footage too, but according to my information it’s all about the shield and the title.”

“Wait—what?” you gape at Fury, feeling a cold shiver run down your spine. “No way! You can’t be serious! Someone wants the title and Sam’s shield?”

“I’m afraid so,” Fury says, watching Sam run his hand over your hair. “We will do anything to help you, though.”

“What if Sam doesn’t give it to them? What did they say will happen?” Bucky asks, watching Fury lean back in his chair. “That bad?”

“Whoever is after the shield threatens to leak the footage. Doctor Y/L/N would lose her job. She would be compromised,” Fury explains. “I can’t say what would happen to your uh-“

“I don’t have a career and give a shit on my reputation, but we can’t let anything happen to Y/N and her job,” Bucky grunts. “What can we do to find them?”

“John Walker,” you whisper, glancing at Fury. “It can only be him – right?”

“Who is John Walker? I never heard of him before,” Sam watches you focus your attention toward Fury, not answering his question. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“If it’s John, we got to be careful. I know he wanted to become the next Captain, not accepting the gentleman’s agreement between Sam and Captain Rogers. I know some people at the government would like to see that man wield the shield, but we won’t allow him to do so,” you stand, straighten your skirt before you look Fury straight in the eyes. “I quit.”

“Doll, just wait a minute. Let’s talk about this,” while Bucky tries to stop you from throwing everything you worked so hard for away while Sam silently watches the change in your posture.

“What is else do we want to discuss, James? That bastard won’t stop, okay. He wants the shield but won’t get it.”

“I give it to him if this saves your career and reputation,” Sam offers. “Steve hand the shield to me, believing I’ll do the right thing. He would’ve done the same to save you.”

“No,” you slam your fist onto the table, making Sam jump. “If you don’t want to wield the shield, fine by me but we will not let anyone take it away from you.”

“What about your job?” you don’t give in. Looking at Sam you give him a weak smile. “Y/N?”

“Fury, tell that bastard he can go and leak anything he wants to. I’m an adult and had sex with two men I love. This is not a crime. If he wants to ruin my career, so be it. He can go and shove it up to his ass.”

“I did not expect anything else from you, doctor,” Fury chuckles, admiring you give a shit on John Walker’s threat.

“Just give me an hour to get back home. I don’t want to answer any questions today. Let hell come over me – tomorrow…” your head held up high you walk toward the door, grasping for the door handle before you look over your shoulder. “Are you coming, guys?”

“We can’t let that bastard get away with this,” Bucky points at the TV. An hour after Fury told Walker he can fuck his deal, named man leaked all the videos he took of you and your roommates.

“Hill did her best to take all the videos down. Luckily, she found the server with the original files. She also marked the files and tries to locate any copy,” Sam explains.

He watches you sit in your favorite armchair, snuggled in a warm blanket you just look at the wall. “She just lost her career only as we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves and tried to get rid of her, Sam.”

“I know.”

“I will find and kill John Walker. He will pay for hurting Y/N,” Bucky crosses his arms over his chest, watching you brush a single tear off your cheek.

“So, we're partners?”

“Co-workers. Not necessarily a team, but we will team up to avenge, Y/N.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Bucky holds out his hand.

“Sounds like a good plan,” shaking Bucky’s hand Sam smirks. “Now let’s find John Walker and show him what happens if he hurts someone we care about.”

“Finally-“ you walk toward your roommates, smiling softly. “Took you long enough to admit you like each other.” you walk toward your bedroom, smiling to yourself. “Did you find all the hidden cameras?”

“Yes. Why?” cocking his head Sam looks at you. “Y/N?”

“You know, I don’t have to be up early in the morning any longer,” you smirk. “You can keep me awake all night long…”

“Doll,” Bucky purrs, eyes drifting toward your ass. “Ready if you are…”

“Hey, I told you she’s mine,” following you hot on your heels Sam calls Bucky’s name. “Hands off!”

“How did Y/N know it was Walker?” Maria looks at the leaked footage, clenching her jaw. “Director?”

“Do you remember when I told you she quit her last job? I told you that someone made her leave, it was Walker,” Fury explains.

“Doctor Y/L/N doesn’t seem like someone just giving up on her career for a man,” Maria wonders. “There is more – right?”

“They were a pair for years, even wanted to marry but then, he changed. After the blip happened he became a different man. And since Steve Rogers and the Avengers undid the blip, Walker wanted to become the next Captain and turned into a possessive man on a mission.”

“Sounds like the perfect partner,” nodding thoughtfully Maria looks at her boss. “What happened?”

“Y/N tried to make Walker see he was in the wrong, that the end doesn’t always justify the means. She ended up in hospital with two broken ribs and a concussion.”

“She walked out on him I assume.”

“John Walker doesn’t like rejection in any way. This is the opportunity he was waiting for. He ruined Y/N’s career and aims for his next target—the shield in Sam Wilson’s hands…”

End of Arc 1...

Arc 2 - TBA

All works Tags

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@miraclesoflove

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---------------------------------------------------------

Marvel Tags

@stuckys-whore

@notyourtypicalrose

@valsworldofcreativity

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---------------------------------------------------------

Bucky Barnes/Sebastian Stan Tags

@marshyrebelcloud

@buchanan-lover

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@hinata7346

#More than their room (3 of Arc 1)#bucky barnes #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #angst #bucky x reader x sam #sam x reader x bucky #polyamory #light smut #l

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ask-mr-well-adjusted-things · 5 days

Note

Ignoring the STUPID BITCH in the back rate the look

I- I uhm... He is- uh

PAH!

you made the poor man flustered, im just too hot

OOC: I personally don't find Hugh/House attractive but holy shit he's hot in this photo

#ask wilson shit!!#house md #james wilson #gregory house #house got ahold of his phone :(#ask blog #rip wilsons privacy #hilson #WOAH #ooc: thanks moot #jesus

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firefly-in-darkness · 4 years

Text

Reblog Challenge - October

Here are the amazing stories I have read this month. As always…check the tags and warnings, reblog the fics, follow the writers for more amazing content!

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

Bluff - @bonkywobble

Break Me Down - @impossibleg1rl

Crazy, Beautiful [Series List] - @bucky-the-thigh-slayer

Hey Neighbour [Series List] - @moonbeambucky

It’s A Deal [Series List] - @justreadingfics

Jealousy Isn’t Fun [Series List] - @bucky--barnes

Lone Wolf - @princessmisery666

Lose Control - @navybrat817

Obsessions - @impossibleg1rl

P.S I Love You - @bolontiku

Spiral of Feelings [Series List] - @jbbuckybarnes

Twenty Years - @impossibleg1rl

The Right Thing

Five Years

Hello Sweetheart

Loki

Ripped Apart - @ffangirlingsince2001

Peter Quill

Hell of a Ride - @shewhohangsoutincemeteries

Lay Over - @shewhohangsoutincemeteries

Sam Wilson

Scary Film Drabble - @propertyofpoeandbucky

Steve Rogers

All Day - @navegandoaciegas

All The Things You Do For Me - @howardpotts

Light Little Heart - @bonkywobble

Psuedo Princess [Series List] - @shreddedparchment

Undercover (Under Covers) - @tropicalcap

Vanilla Kinda Guy - @prettyyoungtragedy

Stucky

Invasion of Privacy - @tropicalcap

October Seventeenth - @softboibarnes

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Better - @negans-lucille-tblr

Loyalties Lie [Series List] - @negans-lucille-tblr

Satisfaction - @mummybear

Stolen - @princessmisery666

Miscellaneous

Captain Syverson

Bad Girls Don’t Get to Play - @littlefreya

Geralt

Havandra - @ffangirlingsince2001

Some Kind of Feeling - @becs-bunker

Poe Dameron

Are You Busy? - @stellarstarwarsimagines

Ransom Drysdale

Paper - @avintagekiss24

Spoiled One - @impossibleg1rl

Worth - @negans-lucille-tblr

#fic rec #becca's reblog challenge #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #dean winchester x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #sam wilson x reader #loki x reader #peter quill x reader #captain syverson x reader #geralt x reader #poe dameron x reader

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finalfrontierpioneer · 3 years

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2020 Fic Recs

Okay, I did a fic rec list last year for 2019, and nobody asked for this, but you know what, I’m gonna do another one. Really the only thing I wanna look back on about 2020 is the fic- bc damn there were some good ones!

Same as last year, these are fics that were completed in 2020. (So no in-progress fics here)

So here goes, 20 fic recs for 2020, in no particular order! And full disclosure, these are all totally different ratings/pairings/whatever.

I tried to tag all the authors who had tumblrs, but i probably missed some, and some of them aren’t actually working but hey! the username is there!

Some stucky bc of course

Sharpened Claws by tragicama (Explicit)

Steve Rogers has a unique talent of getting himself into danger. As one of New York City’s best homicide detectives, it isn’t easy to ignore the constant call of trouble and gore. At least, that’s what he tries to tell his overprotective and brooding boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, even if he knows it might be a lie.

Bucky is dangerous, gorgeous. . .and a werewolf. As the Alpha of New York City, he is easily considered the most powerful being in the world. But when Bucky begins to lose his control over his shift, he slowly becomes aware of a bond that sends him reeling, and one he’d never thought possible.

But everything is not as it seems. After a homicide case unleashes a sequence of events that neither Steve nor Bucky are prepared for, they soon find themselves entangled with a danger that threatens to rip them apart. With the help of Steve’s partner and best friend, Sam, Bucky and Steve navigate a dark web of pack politics, masquerade balls, and a crash course in what it means to be a pack, even as a greater danger looms. And one that might succeed in ripping them apart.

These Happy Gilded Years by crinklefries @spacerenegades, nalonzoo (Teen)

Steve Rogers, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and mostly happy disposition, had lived twenty-three years in the world with very little to distress or vex him.

( Steve is wealthy and and charming, with good humor and good temper, doted upon by his mother and the highest of New York Society, with no one to ever criticize or say the word no to him. Well, other than Bucky. But he doesn't count.

He is also warm and friendly and has a talent for matchmaking. Or so he thinks. Actually, he's kind of terrible at it.

Importantly, Steve will definitely never fall in love or marry, himself. He tells everyone this, repeatedly. Well anyway, we'll see about that. )

Jane Austen's Emma, but a little gayer, set in 1890s Gilded Era New York City

Demon Seed by SucculentHyena (Mature)

[Transcript 00:11:48]

MS: You were with him the most throughout the course of events, both before and after. Your account could shed light on something we may have missed.

JB: What difference will that make?

MS: It could make all the difference. Captain Rogers’ case is unprecedented, he’s the most intact victim we’ve ever recovered-

JB: [laughing] You call that intact?

A Noble Steed by alby_mangroves @albymangroves or @artgroves, leveragehunters (Teen)

"You say the Warhorse showed up last night," Sam said in tones of profound doubt.

"Yeah," Steve replied.

"The Warhorse. The Warhorse of legend. Daelland's Warhorse."

"The same as the one on the back of the transit card, yes."

"And he appeared in your living room?"

Steve eyed the Warhorse, very large and very black and giving him a dubious look out of his strange grey eyes. "He's standing in it right now."

"Uh huh," Sam said.

"Hey, I'm not any happier about it than you are."

* * *

Steve's mom had left Daelland long before he was born, following her heart to New York, but she'd raised him on stories of its famous Warhorse. Before she died, he'd promised he'd go back and learn the country she'd come from.

That was why he was in Daelland. Not so Daelland's legendary Warhorse could appear in his living room. But planned or not that's what had happened—now Steve had to figure out what to do about it.

a hat, a horse (a Hyundai), and the will to ride by elkane @elkane, synonym4life @synonym-for-life (Explicit)

After Steve and Bucky rescue their pals from the Raft prison, they decide to dig deeper into Zemo’s involvement in the UN headquarters’ bombing which sends them on a backpacking trip across select European countries. Steve and Bucky believe this is a story about their mission. Scott Lang and Sam Wilson, who join them halfway through, believe it’s a story about their Eurotrip (and they’re probably right). This writer, however, has been waiting to tell you that the fic’s true mission is Steve and Bucky missioning towards missionary.

Follow them on their journey across Europe in tiny cars, packed subway trains and even on skis as they tumble down the Swiss Alps (in a fun way this time!), all the while reigniting untold feelings of the past through inappropriate sexual encounters and terrible communication skills.

someday at christmas (there’ll be no wars) by stevebuckiest @stevebuckyinc (not rated)

A mission on Christmas. Not even on Christmas, technically. A mission after Christmas which means he and Steve and the Howlies will be trekking through the tundra towards possible death on what used to be Bucky’s favorite day of the year. Jesus Christ.

(alternatively: bucky and steve try to make the best of a shitty situation)

the cabin by natalie_nebula (Explicit)

It felt like he… It felt like they were always so close. Everything seemed like it was under control. He remembers hearing Wanda’s voice, seeing a flash of red out of the corner of his eye. He remembers yelling something back at her, telling her to stop, to not come any closer. He remembers a bright flash, then a boom, and ringing in his ears. He remembers a black blur, and hands on his back, around his waist, then—darkness…

After the explosion in Lagos, Steve wakes up in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, and all he knows is that Bucky's the one who brought him there. While Sam, Nat, and the other Avengers try to figure out what happened to their friend, Steve takes the time away to heal—both his relationship with Bucky, and with himself. My cozy, romantic, and introspective Civil War rewrite.

Every Feeling by Nestri (Explicit)

Steve completely surprises Bucky with a visit, scent thick with heat. The Alpha keeps his hands to himself until Steve makes it clear he doesn't want him to.

Halbarry!

A Speedster and a Space Cop get into a Car by ChocolateTeapots @chocolateteapotsvis (Teen)

Hal and Barry embark on their most perilous mission yet: picking Wally up from the airport.

For Halbarry Week, Day 3: First Times “And you just called me Barry, genius”

Crosswind by Cinderstrato (Explicit)

Hal had collected plenty of regrets over the years. What was the weight of one more?

Just A Mark by the_butler @the-butler-fanstuff (Mature)

“What a nerd.”

Barry had been haunted by these words all his life, seeing as they were his soulmate’s mark. It came out during puberty, just like everyone else’s, but by then he was already well on the way to being a ‘nerd’ so to speak. He wasn’t just some guy claiming to be nerd because he was into Dungeons and Dragons or anime, oh no. He was a bona fide science nerd- went to interstate science fairs and competitions even.

—————(Originally a one-shot, now continued)——————

Barry Allen was working at the forensics lab of Central City PD when it waltzes the new transfer from Coast City, Detective Hal Jordan, not just into the lab but also into his life. There’s the matter of them being soulmates- but Barry is unconvinced. Science tells him there’s a likely chance that they’re just platonic soulmates, so Hal suggests an experiment of sorts: they go on three dates, and then decide whether or not they’re just platonic, or something more.

Tired by ceelolights @ceeloilights (Gen)

Hal comes home to Barry still working late into the night.

Last but most certainly not least, Jeronica:

The long way round to heaven by Bearfacedcheek (Mature)

“This could screw everything up. Jesus why couldn’t you just, fucking not?”

“I did just fucking not Jughead,” she retorts hotly. “I’ve been not for months. No one was ever supposed to know, least of all you. So, don’t blame me for what you saw when you invaded a private moment.”

“Oh, my bad Veronica,” sarcasm, his most comfortable armour, wraps itself around his words. “Did my near-death experience compromised your privacy? I’m sorry that my spirit took an astral fucking walk out of my almost corpse and y-”

“Don’t,” she gasps. Her hand flies to her mouth and it trembles visibly as she draws it away. “Don’t say that. Jesus Jughead we almost lost you.”

sadder, badder, cooler by thefudge @thefudge (Teen)

AU. Just who is Veronica's mysterious new husband? (based on season 5 spoilers)

all i’ll ever need is you by whatacoolkid @whatacoolkid (Teen)

jughead and veronica but make it ✨christmas✨

destined to be forgotten by bothromeoandjuliet @kindnessinpain2000 (Teen)

There are plenty of broken things in Riverdale - broken families, broken trust, broken hearts - but in the middle stands the two most broken things of all, Veronica Lodge and Forsythe 'Jughead' Jones.

(Jughead and Veronica learn about the Barchie kiss - this is the aftermath)

I Really (Don’t) Know What I Want by Bella_Dahlia @bella-dahlia (Mature)

There were many potential disasters to befall an average weirdo high school student; when one had an active imagination and a love for John Hughes films, as Jughead Jones did, you sort of assumed you had foresaw the possibilities. Plus, after solving a sordid murder and joining a gang, he really thought he gone through his fair share of teenaged trauma.

Having to fake a relationship to save his best friend from dedicating his life to a mafia and getting punched repeatedly in the process definitely had not crossed his mind before now.

——————————————

Or, Jughead and Veronica don’t really know what they’ve gotten themselves into.

all the lovers with no time for me by Krewlak (Mature)

jeroncia goes to stonewall. that's it. that's the fic.

call it what you want to by an_expensive_imagination (Teen)

“First things first,” Veronica says, reaching up to slide the ever-present gray beanie off his head, “no beanies in college.”

And here’s a one off random spideypool:

Shooting For Your Heart by X_Gon_Give_It (Teen)

“In my defense, I didn’t expect you to get hurt.”

“And I didn’t expect to be run out of town, yet here we are.”

He went suddenly stiff, “Wait...you were run out of town?”

“As if you didn’t know,” Peter grumbled, but when he looked up he did a double-take at Wade's confused expression. “Almighty, you really don’t know, do you?” he snapped the drawer shut, “Well, after that little fiasco by Two-Stone Canyon, a little rumor spread that me and you were in cahoots. The rumor got some ground and it turned the whole town against me. I was run out before I could defend my case. Why'dya think I was out there the other night to begin with?”

<><><><><><>

When Peter Parker, a deputy known as Webslinger, gets accused of working with the West's deadliest outlaw he finds himself on the run from the people he once trusted. In an effort to prove his innocence, he finds himself captured by the very outlaw tarnishing his name.

#fic recs #stucky #jeronica #halbarry #2020 fic recs

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 years

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Rights of Nature and legal standing

To understand the levers of power under the rule of law, you have to understand "standing" - the right to seek justice for some bad act. Courts and legislatures guard standing jealously; the worst-case scenario is that anyone can sue over an injustice done to someone else. You and your neighbor agree that it's fine for them to park their car in a way that impedes a driveway you never use anyway, and then some stranger sues your neighbor to make them stop - it's not just court-clogging, it's also a barrier to justice. But many of our gravest, most urgent harms affect whole populations, so it can be hard to identify which person is harmed. This is where we get class action suits from - a million people sue over a $2.83 ripoff, not to get their $2.83 back, but to hold the grifter to account. Where class action can't fill the gaps, we rely on public officials - district attorneys, attorneys general, etc - to take up our cause - say, by bringing an antitrust suit against a tech giant. When it works, this is great, but when it fails, it's terrible. Because there are so many harms that don't rise to the level of class action (or are impeded by things like "binding arbitration waivers" in terms of service that prohibit joining a class action), and that public officials decline to take up. This is where the "private right of action" comes in - the right to seek redress under the law, often without showing particularized, personal harm, comes in. In Florida, voters just created a landmark private right of action: the right to sue polluters without having to prove you were personally harmed by pollution. 89% of voters in Orange County, FL voted for a "Rights of Nature" ballot initiative. https://www.sun-sentinel.com/opinion/commentary/fl-op-com-invading-sea-orange-county-charter-natural-rights-20201109-yehr2rulu5bi3cdf7jampdbtdm-story.html Under the new "Wekiva River and Econlockhatchee River Bill of Rights," corporate polluters who foul the waterways of Orange County can be sued by anyone in Orange County, without having to wait for a DA to bestir themself to enforce the law. OC, FLA is not a Democratic stronghold - it's roughly split between Dems, Republicans and Independents, and the outcome of the vote - which follows on a County Commission race that saw the election of Rights of Nature advocate Nicole Wilson - may indicate statewide sentiment. If so, then Florida's state legislature is wildly out of step with voters: this is the legislature that illegally raided the state Land Acquisition Trust Fund and passed the unconstitutional Clean Waterways Act, banning local governments from giving rights to nature. The OC measure was crafted to sidestep the legislature's ban on RIghts of Nature rules (a ban currently being challenged in court), and there are parallel statewide efforts to pass similar measures. The creation of a private right of action goes beyond the environmental issue: it's part of a wider fight over the rights of natural persons (human beings) when they are wronged by artificial persons (companies). For decades, private rights of action have been in disrepute, thanks to the well-funded efforts of corporations to take away our right to sue them for mutilating us or ripping us off. You may have heard of "tort reform" and the idea that America is "overlawyered." "Tort reform" is an influence campaign backed by the wealthiest people and largest corporations in America, designed to strip you of the power to defend yourself. it leans on lies like the "McDonald's hot coffee lawsuit." https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9DXSCpcz9E One of the frequent targets of tort reformers is the Americans With Disabilities Act, which allows people with disabilities to seek redress from businesses that do not offer reasonable accommodations. The ADA is routinely smeared as an ambulance-chaser's charter, a way for sleazy no-win/no-fee 1-800-LAWYER types to blackmail mom-and-pop businesses. The reality is that the ADA has been wildly successful in ensuring that a democratically enacted law gets enforced. The situation for people with disabilities is far from perfect, of course, but imagine if your only recourse for a failure to abide by ADA was to convince the District Attorney to sue a hotel for its failure to provide a wheelchair ramp. Moreover, the financial contours of ADA - that lawyers can recover fees from companies that go to court rather than complying with the law - has meant that the majority of enforcement suits are brought against large firms with many facilities. These are the companies that can afford to pay plaintiffs' fees after they lose - so the time-honored tactic of dragging out cases to outspend your opponent doesn't work here. The longer the case goes on, the more the plaintiff's lawyer gets when it ends. This is why America needs a national privacy law with a private right of action: specifically so that it exposes the largest (and therefore most harmful) tech companies to massive, unquantifiable, multifarious liability unless they get squeaky clean ASAP. Image: Florida Sea Grant https://www.flickr.com/photos/65549684@N08/7590138010 CC BY-NC-ND https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/

#pluralistic

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themusicplayedherlife · 4 years

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Unrequited (Part 5)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader characters: bucky barnes, reader, steve rogers, natasha romanoff, tony stark, pietro maximoff, crystal amaquelin, clint barton, sam wilson, sharon carter, word count: 7k+ warnings: curse words, flirty bucky, flirty tony, angst, sad friends summary: things are changing and its startng to get hard to keep up a/n: hi, welcome to the slowest update and slowest burn story ever, but its here now--and let me tell you, this chapter is NOT how i planned... still like the outcome and really, it just means that the next ch is going to be just as long (im also looking for someone to beta future chapters ;o; so if youre interested, lemme know)

prev || all || next

“Natasha?” you call out, entering the eerily quiet apartment. The lights are off, the television quiet and dark, everything you used for breakfast is still in the sink, none of it put away—she hates seeing a full sink, but hates washing dishes in the morning even more, preferring to do them when she gets home when it’s her turn.

You call out for her again, your footsteps echoing as you make your way to her bedroom. Knocking, you wait for a beat before opening the door, and just like the rest of your shared home, her room is dark—even the neon lights she likes leaving on occasionally are turned off.

Where could she be?

There’s a note on the island counter that has you frowning—Out for the day. It reads in Natasha’s cursive writing. I’ll be home for dinner.

You don’t share any classes with Natasha, today. In fact, you don’t have any classes Tuesdays, something you’re grateful for because having classes everyday last year really stressed you out, and while you’re still stressed having three classes on three days of the week, you have more days to relax and study if need be.

Your free days also give you the chance to spend time with Natasha, something you both take seriously. Afterall, you made a promise to one another senior year of highschool that you’d always carve out a little bit of time for each other and that you’d always tell one another what was on your mind, never letting it fester.

It feels… weird knowing something is wrong and not knowing what it could be. But you just have to give her space and wait for her to tell you on her own, just as she gives you space when you need it.

Doesn’t mean you like it, though.

With a loud sigh, you leave your apartment.

You shoot him a quick text to let him know you’re here, and he replies by giving you the code for the building and his floor and apartment number.

Seriously, Bucky? Why is he making you go up?

Grumbling, you take the elevator to the fourth floor and knock on his door, ready to rip him a new one for having you meet at his place rather than somewhere else when it opens to reveal… not Bucky?

Naked torso and bright blue eyes greet you, and widen in surprise as a small squeak escapes your lips. You try to ignore the heat clawing its way up your neck and to your face, desperately hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He says your name breathlessly and you return the gesture with another squeal, head lightheaded and you’re pretty sure it’s not healthy to have all your blood rush to your face like this.

“Steve!” You avert your eyes and focus on the wooden door and the gold numbers 404 instead of his pretty, hairless chest. But it’s kind of hard to keep your focus on something else when your eyes keep wanting to move his way! “Bucky told me to meet him here?”

As if he was waiting for his name, his head pops over Steve’s shoulder, a small smirk on his face—has it always been this punchable? Because your fingers are itching to clock him and wipe that smug look off of his face—that’s becoming a thing isn’t it?

“You’re finally here!” He pushes Steve aside and opens the door wide for you, ignoring the protests of his best friend. He latches onto your wrist, not allowing you a chance to look over the open spaced apartment and pulls you along with him towards the elevator. “I’m taking the car! And put a shirt on!”

You chance a glance over your shoulder to find Steve staring after you both with raised eyebrows and slightly parted lips. Fuck.

“What the hell, Bucky?” you ask as soon as you’re in the privacy of the elevator.

“You’re welcome,” he says, pressing the button for B—basement you’re assuming.

“You’re welcome?” You repeat incredulously. “For what?”

“What do you mean for what? You got to see a shirtless Steve thanks to me!”

He has a point, the little voice in your head says, but you refuse to listen. Pursing your lips, you turn your eyes away to stare at the blinking numbers over the sliding doors. “I’m not thanking you for that.”

He pouts and it’s so uncharastically Bucky, or at least it's uncharacteristic for the Bucky you thought you knew, that it throws you off guard for a moment. You clear your throat and try to recover. “Come on! I did good! You saw a shirtless, Steve! What are the odds of that happening?”

“Literally none.” He grins at your deadpan words. “Still don’t appreciate it, Bucky! That was embarrassing, for him and me.”

He sighs, slouching back into the elevator wall like a little kid having been scolded for stealing a piece of chocolate. “Okay, I get it. I get it, no more tricking you into seeing a shirtless Steve.”

You resist the urge to sigh heavily at his words. “I hate you.”

He grins toothily.

You watch him as he smiles at the poor girl behind the register ringing him up for a pair of sunglasses. She ducks her head shyly, curling a lock of her hair behind her ear as does her best to quell the blushing on her cheek.

He had told you to keep an eye on them, watch him as he tries to win over the cashier with his charm, but from where you’re standing? You’re not seeing shit.

He thanks her with another smile, taking his card that she hands back to him before making his way to you.

You quickly look away when her eyes begin to drift from him to you.

“Did you see?” he asks as he settles into step with you to lead you to another store.

You nod and cock an eyebrow. “What exactly was I supposed to learn from that?”

He makes a face—nose scrunched and eyebrows furrowed. “How easy it is to flirt?”

“I saw none of that,” you deadpan.

He sighs deeply as if completely disappointed in your lack of attention and you have to resist the urge to smack him and roll your eyes. “Did you not see how I—you know what. Never mind.” Before you can even question him, he continues on: “We’re not just here to teach you how to flirt, we’re also here because you need an outfit for the party. Two birds,” two fingers lift into the air and then one finger goes down, “one stone.”

You do a double take, blinking slowly and letting his words process. “I need an—no, I don’t!”

“Oh, yeah?” He raises an eyebrow as he opens the door. “What were you thinking about wearing, then?”

“I don’t know?” You reply indignantly. What exactly is he getting at? “Some jeans and a shirt? You know, like casual clothes.”

When you don’t make a move to enter, he grabs your arm and pulls you along with an eye roll. “That’d be fine for any other party, but this is a Stark party. People dress up to impress, and those that don’t, stick out like a sore thumb.”

Great.

“Come on, sourpuss.”

That’s rich coming from him.

But then again, he hasn’t been much of a sourpuss with you anymore has he?

“What about this?” he asks, amusement laced in his words as he grins stupidly at you. In his hands is a short and skimpy dress that you would never wear out of fear of what you might accidentally end up flaunting.

A glare is all he gets as a response and he laughs loudly. “I’m joking!”

You miss sourpuss Bucky.

He has you searching the floor for something—anything, he deems acceptable for Stark’s party, but you honestly don’t understand why you can’t just wear casual clothes. And when you voice it, he keeps emphasizing the whole “sticking out like a sore thumb” bit. As if he knew you liked blending with the crowd rather than stand out. You relent, allowing him to help you pick something out, too, but you still don’t like the idea of dressing up for a College party.

A blue romper is suddenly shoved in your line of vision and you took a step back to follow the arm attached to the shimmery romper. “Pretty, right?”

You wrinkle your nose involuntarily. It is a pretty romper (better than the first one), with a low open back and a sweetheart neckline. You’d wear it, but it looks more suitable for clubbing than a college party.

“I think it’ll look good on you!”

You reluctantly grab it from his thrusting hand. “Isn’t it too much?” You check the tag. “Besides, not my size.”

“It’s perfect for Tony’s party,” he muses as he ushers you towards the rack where he found the romper, encouraging you to find your correct size. “And it’s actually pretty tame compared to what you’ll see others wearing.”

“You know, you’ve been really making me dread going to this party,” you grumble, pulling out a romper that’s in your size. “You keep making it sound like it’s the event of the year.”

He nudges you towards the changing rooms. “It might as well be. A lot of people look forward to his parties, use it as a chance to completely unwind without any rules binding them to the usual frat party rules.”

Which would make sense as to why Natasha is looking forward to it, especially when she seems to be stressed from outside factors.

“That still doesn’t make me feel better.”

He rolls his eyes. “Stop being a baby.”

The dressing room attendant allows you both in with a smile, pointing to a stall you may use, and you both thank her.

The music is a little louder in the dressing room area than it was on the floor, Dua Lipa’s New Rules blasting loudly, enough to make you drum your finger against the hanger.

“Besides,” he starts from the other side of the door. Through the crack, you can see him with his back turned towards you and waiting. “Going to this party will be your chance to open flirty dialogue with Steve, show him you’re actually interested in him.”

You take your time undressing. “None of what I’ve seen so far will help, Bucky. Smiling and touching someone isn’t flirting.”

“It will!” he assures you over the music. “It’s part of the basics on how to flirt.”

“Okay? But what else?” You were really hoping for more. He made teaching you how to flirt seem like such a big deal the other day.

He doesn’t answer you.

“Bucky?” When he doesn’t answer again, you quickly scramble to put on the romper, not bothering to check yourself in the mirror. You call his name again. No answer. Again. “Are you—“ You open the door to your dressing room and to your surprise, Bucky is still standing outside of your dressing room, closer to the one next to yours. “Why weren’t you answering?”

He leans against the door with his shoulder, hands in his pockets and stormy eyes meet yours when you poke your head out. “Well? Aren’t you gonna show me?” Your forehead creases as your eyebrows curve inward. He motions to the side with his head as if asking you to step out.

With a reluctant step, you come out of hiding, showing him the outfit with a ducked head.

His eyes sweep over you and his hands come out of his pockets, a lopsided grin appearing on his lips. “Wow—you look—you look great, doll.”

Doll? You don’t question it even though you’re curious about the sudden pet name, besides, you’re a little flustered at the genuinity in his voice “You think so?”

“It’s gonna be hard for anyone to look away from you,” he says, eyes twinkling with some kind of emotion that you can’t read. Mischief, maybe?

You pause, the heat that had been gathering in your cheeks suddenly cools as the hair on your arms stand awkwardly. You can’t help the small shiver that runs down your spine, or the small noise of disgruntlement that escapes your lips. What was wrong with him? “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, reaching for a lock of your hair and you jerked away.

Your eyes narrow as you watch the smile on his face grow, but soon they widen as the realization hit you. “Are you—are you trying to flirt with me?”

His smile drops and it’s your turn for your smile to grow, a laugh escaping your lips. His lips form a pout and he groans. “Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny. I’m teaching you how to flirt!”

“By giving me chills?”

He leans away from you, in shock that you’d think he’d ever do such a thing! “I did not give you chills!”

“You did!” you assert as you lift your arm to show him the bumps and awkwardly standing arm hair.

“There’s no way I caused that!”

You shove your arm further into his direction. “You totally did!”

He stares at you unblinkingly, your words processing in his head and taking in your form, until finally, he groans loudly, gaining the attention of the attendant. “But my flirting has never failed!”

You laugh, stepping away from him. “Well, your mom did say you seem to be under a dry spell.”

“Hey!” He sputters. “Just get changed!”

You shake your head with a smile and head back into the changing room to change out of the romper and back into your regular clothes.

After paying for the romper and walking around aimlessly, you two find yourself at the food court sitting across from one another with ice creams in hand.

“Since—apparently—showing you wasn't the best way to reach you how to flirt, telling you might be,” he says after a spoonful of his strawberry cheesecake ice cream. “Flirting isn’t rocket science, doll. Everyone can do it.”

“Not everyone.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit. Flirting is all about conversation and being confident while doing it,” he says, straightening his back. “A lot of people have this… idea, that you have to be coy and charming to flirt, but you don’t have to be. Sometimes it’s all about compliments, other times it’s about subtle touching, or most of the time—both.”

You close your lips around your spoon, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Try it on me.”

Your spoon almost drops from your hands at his words. “What?”

“Try flirting with me.”

“Bucky—“

“You’ve seen me flirt twice—“

“I learned nothing from either time.”

He blatantly ignores you and you can’t help but laugh under your breath. “So, you have an idea of what you should do when flirting with someone.”

“I don’t know—“

“Just compliment me, talk to me, reach for my hand or something.” He smiles. “You’ve got this.”

You take a deep breath and finally relent. Placing your spoon back into the cup with your melting ice cream, your eyes meet his expectant gaze.

Sweeping over his eager gaze, your eyes fall on the red beaded bracelet wrapped around his wrist. It’s homemade, a little worn out by the look of the scratches on some of the beads. But it’s cute, reminds you of something you would’ve made when you were in middle school for Natasha, or something your younger brother would’ve made for you. Did one of his sisters make it for him? Shyly, and nervously, you reach for the beaded bracelet, gently running your index finger over the small beads.

“I like your bracelet.”

“Yeah?” He asks with a wide grin, stormy eyes watching you carefully and you can’t help the heat licking at your skin—god, this is embarrassing!

“Yeah, it’s cute… looks good on you,” you mutter, hooking a finger under the bracelet and flashing your eyes up at him from under your lashes, still feeling hot and embarrassed, and if you cry, holy shit you’re going to die. You can’t even read Bucky’s expression, there’s a smile on his face but his eyes are pretty neutral. Fuck. What if you’re messing up? What if you’re only making a fool out of yourself? “No!” You gasp softly, extracting your finger from his bracelet and covering your face with both hands. “No, I can’t do it!”

“Come on,” he drawls and gently takes hold of your wrists to coax your hands away from your face. “You were doing great!”

You let him pull down your hands and purse your lips, not completely believing him, but he sounds genuine enough. “Was I really?”

“Yes, you were!” he says, patting your hands in his. “You complimented something on me and me, found an excuse to touch me and kept eye contact for most of it! That’s pretty fucking amazing.”

You slip your hands from his to cup your jaw and groan. “I wish I could believe you.”

“All you really had to do was ask questions, prolong the conversation, make me think you’re interested in knowing more about me,” he advises softly. “If you do something similar like this to Steve? He’ll be putty in your hands.”

Giddiness bubbles in your stomach as you think of Steve flirting back, but… “But what if I get too nervous? Or fail?”

“Then you breathe, remind yourself you’re having a conversation to get to know him outside of what you already do know.” He waits for a beat, eyes searching your face for a moment and sighs. “Some people like to lay it on thick with the charm because that’s what they’re good at. You? You’re just… you. Doe-eyed, a little awkward, more than a little blunt sometimes. So use that to your advantage.”

You don’t fully believe him, but he sounds so sure of himself that you can’t help but agree to try it. “All right. Okay, I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all you need.” He grins and tilts his head towards one of the many entrances of the mall. “Want to head home?”

You look down at the ice cream pooling in your cup and decide to throw it out along with Bucky’s empty cup. “Mind if I check out the Disney store before we go?”

He remains seated, thanking you as you take his trash with yours. “Was afraid you wouldn’t ask.”

Throwing the two cups, you look at Bucky over your shoulder, ignoring the family of four that cuts between you to occupy a table. “You like Disney?”

He scoffs, offended that you even thought of asking such a heinous question. “Of course, I do.”

You shrug, laughing under your breath as you wipe the imaginary dust from your hands. “Most guys hide their affinity for Disney.”

Without thinking much of it, Bucky grabs the bag carrying your romper from the empty chair. When you make a grab for it, he tells you he’s got it and begins to lead you towards the Disney store. You follow after him, thankful. “I’m not most guys,” he quips back. “But… uh… does Natasha not like guys that like Disney?”

You blink, processing his shy inquiry and then throw your head back in laughter.

“Hey! It’s a legit question, if she doesn’t—“

You fall into step with him, smothering your laughter with the back of your hand. “What? Are you going to hide your love for the mouse from her if she doesn’t?”

“Maybe?”

You roll your eyes. “I suggest you don’t, Bucky. Natasha… she likes authenticity.” He knows this! But he’s really gung-ho on changing himself for her, isn’t he?

“It’s not like I’m going to lie about it! I’ll just be… omitting the truth.”

“That is lying,” you say with a bit of whine and drawl in your voice. “Lying by omission.”

“Whatever gets her attention.” His lips turn down and his eyes sweep down at you with a semi glazed look before staring forward. “That’s the whole point of this, right? Getting their attention?”

You try to hide the wince and find that you can’t bring yourself to refute him.

Your eyes meet your own in your mirror’s reflection, and with a deep breath, you leave your bedroom.

Natasha is on her phone, fingers tapping away at the screen barely acknowledging you other than a, “Finally!”

“Sorry,” you start as you make a beeline to the fridge for water. “I’m just a little unsure of what I’m wearing.”

She looks up, twisting in her seat to take a look at you and she lets out a strange noise that sounds akin to excitement. “Where have you been hiding this little number?”

You purse your lips. “It’s okay?”

“Are you kidding me?” She stands and makes her way over to you, smirking wickedly, hand to her chest as she buckles her knees. “I am in love!”

You gently push her away and she cackles. “God, you’re so weird.”

“You love me!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

Pietro: bruh, i am in awe

Pietro: i shit you not, you’re going to be fucking blown away when you guys get here

You: His place that nice?

Pietro: what do you think?

Attached to the message is a picture of Pietro making a face at a large chocolate fountain in the middle of who knows where and you honestly can’t believe it. You really fucking can’t. Who fucking owns a chocolate fountain other than a fictional character?

“Are you seeing this?” you ask Natasha, who sits beside you in the moving taxi, staring incredulously at your phone screen as you receive another message from Pietro, but this time of him sticking a marshmallow into the fountain with a stick.

She hums. “Seeing what?”

“What Pietro just sent—group chat?”

“Oh,” she says. “No.”

Sighing, you put away your phone, ignoring the incoming text from Pietro most likely asking how far away you are. “Who do you keep texting?”

“Huh?” She looks up at you after a moment of silence. “Oh, a friend—hey, you don’t mind if I invited them to tag along, right?”

A friend? You try to keep yourself from frowning, keeping a more neutral, curious expression. “I don’t mind, but, who did you invite?” You’re pretty sure you know everyone she knows or at least know of the people she deems worthy enough to call friends—which aren’t many (and are literally the same people you call friends).

“He’s one of the guards at the center,” she says, returning her attention to her phone, a smile appearing on her lips as she types out another message. “I had trouble on the first day and he helped me.”

“Wait, you had trouble?” Why didn’t she tell you that? She had only mentioned that it went well, but the kids could be a bit too much if she wasn’t stern enough.

She waves her hand dismissively. “Yeah, got lost. Not a big deal.”

She got lost and made a friend on her first day and it’s no big deal? “Right.”

She raises her head to look at you once more, eyebrow cocked and ready to say or ask something, but the driver pulling up slowly and saying, “Here we are,” distracts you both, stealing your attention for a moment and making you both glance out the window.

“Wow,” is all you can manage to say as you stare up at the modern home—mansion, really—as you push open the car door to step out, Natasha right behind you. You knew Tony was rich, but this, this is crazy rich.

The chocolate fountain now makes sense.

You both thank your driver and the man nods, wishing you both a fun night before driving off.

“And I thought your parent’s home was big,” you tell Natasha.

She chuckles, clapping your back before beginning to lead you towards the main entrance and closer to the loud music playing indoors. “Pietro and Crystal are already here, right?”

“Yep. They might be by the chocolate fountain, wherever that is.”

“Cool, I’m going to look for my friend,” she says, pushing open the door and allowing the music to escape from the enclosed space—“Meet you there?”

She’s seriously not thinking of leaving you—oh my god, she is. She’s really leaving you!

Before you can even begin to protest, she’s become one with the sea of bodies occupying the open space and you can no longer see your friend among the masses.

Great. Now what?

You frown and when a person knocks into you by accident, giving you a hasty apology as they keep moving, you can’t help but sigh. Why did you even decide to come?

You pull out your phone and read the message Pietro sent you earlier, and reply telling him that you’ve arrived. In a matter of seconds, you receive a message from him saying he’s still by the chocolate fountain and to hurry the fuck up.

Well, at least you still have Pietro.

Just as you’re about to put your phone away, it vibrates with a text notification, your text tone completely drowned out by the music.

James Bucky: How’s the party?

You: Just got here

James Bucky: Barely?

The music is loud around you as you push through the crowd, people not really caring if you bump into them, all of them in their own little world as the bass reverberates through their bones.

You: Wasnt super keen on the romper.

You: Jumped around a lot of outfits

James Bucky: But I thought you looked great!

James Bucky: You ARE wearing it, right?

You: yes, zazu gosh

James Bucky: wait

James Bucky: Zazu from the Lion King?

James Bucky: are you calling me an overbearing bird?

You: 🤷🏻‍♀️

You: if the shoe fits

James Bucky: listen, if I’m anyone from the movie, I’m Simba

You snort as you reply back: Sure you are

James Bucky: Rude!

James Bucky: Have you seen Steve, yet?

You: no.

You: Looking for Pietro and his girlfriend first

James Bucky: All right

James Bucky: Guess I’ll let you go

James Bucky: just remember to relax! You’ve got this!

Yeah! You do got this!

Thanks, Bucky.

Your search for the fountain leads you outside to a small courtyard where it’s a little less crowded, but just as noisy with the music and talking. In the middle of it all is the glorious chocolate fountain and in front of it a long table of fruits and other assortments that could be dipped into the chocolate.

“What do you think?” A voice suddenly says next to your ear and you can’t help but let out a surprised squeal as you jump around to face the culprit. “Cool right?”

“Tony! What the hell?”

He chuckles and looks you over, his eyes still obscured by his dark glasses. “You look good.” He sounds sincere enough, but you can’t help but raise your eyebrow in suspicion.

“Thanks?”

He grins. “You’re welcome.” He looks around you. “Came alone?”

“Ah, no, I came with Natasha, but she went searching for someone.”

“And you?” He asks, removing his eyewear and hooking it’s leg into the collar of his shirt. “You’re not searching for anyone?”

“I am…” you say, a little hesitant, unsure of what his question is meant to mean. “My friend Pietro.”

He tilts his head to the side. “You mean silver haired kid over there?”

You follow his line of vision, head twisting to look over your shoulder where Pietro and his girlfriend are sitting on a wooden bench, gorging on strawberries covered in chocolate. “Thanks.”

“Buckaroo didn’t come with you?” he asks, stopping you from making your way over to Pietro and Crystal.

“Uh, no. Said he didn’t feel like it.”

Tony snorts, he sounds a little bitter. “Of course, he did.”

Curious. “Did you want him to come?”

He presses his lips thinly, before smiling wickedly. “I’d like for someone else to come.”

“Seriously?”

He grins, head ducking and glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose, but he does nothing to stop them. “Sorry, bad joke.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“Do you usually do that?”

He catches your gaze over the rim of his glasses. “What? Make bad jokes?” He shrugs. “Probably.”

“No,” you start slowly, pausing for a moment to search his eyes, study him as much as possible before he can grow offended by your next words, words that you probably wouldn’t say to a stranger and shouldn’t say to a stranger, but still do. “Do you usually deflect when someone goes into uncharted territory?”

He tenses, eyes narrowing and jaw clenching, it only lasts for a second, but you catch it. And that’s enough for you to know you’re right. He lets out a dramatic sigh and looks away from you, pushing his glasses back up. “Ah, and here I thought you’d be more fun than most of these people.”

You purse your lips, ready to retort, but before you can, a hand lands on your shoulder, pulling you away from Tony and to a muscular body—Pietro.

“Is he bothering you?” Pietro asks, eyes locked on to Tony, not even bothering to look down at you. It’s the big brother act.

“Pietro!” You scold him, pushing him away from you and from confronting Tony. “It’s fine. We were just talking.”

“And now we’re not,” Tony announces, eyes moving from Pietro to you. “Have fun, gorgeous.”

“What was that about?” Pietro mutters, confused as you both stare after Tony. And you can’t help but watch as he joins a group, laughing and smiling with them for only a moment before moving on to the next one. Never staying in one place.

“I don’t know,” you admit, a small frown making a home on your features.

You can never truly tell what the hell is going on with Pietro and Crystal. One moment they’re both laughing and having the time of their life and the next they’re arguing about the little things—this time the little thing being, well, you.

You’ve always known that Crystal wasn’t and isn’t particularly fond of you and Natasha, sometimes seeing both of you as some kind of threat or rivals for Pietro’s love, but you and Natasha usually pay her no mind. This time, however, it’s a little hard to ignore them when she’s whining about the fact you’re third wheeling their date, forgetting the fact that you and Natasha had invited Pietro in the first place, and he had decided to bring his girlfriend along.

Where’s Natasha when you need her?

Why did you decide to come anyway? Bucky wasn’t joking when he said a Stark party wasn’t a place for striking up conversation, yet somehow he encouraged you to come and said it would be the perfect opportunity to flirt with Steve. Who, by the way, you haven’t seen since you arrived! Granted, you haven’t moved from your spot in the courtyard, but you aren’t so sure going around specifically looking for Steve would be such a good idea. What if you do start dating Steve and you one day tell him that you frantically looked around for him at a Stark party, actively avoiding everyone just to be able to talk to him? He’d most likely freak and call you a freak, and you’d much rather avoid that.

“Then go,” you hear Pietro snap, pulling you from your rambling thoughts to look at him and Crystal, both of them practically in each other’s faces.

His blonde girlfriend with wide blue eyes falters, eyes drifting from him to you and back, and you watch as her bottom lip wobbles for dramatic effect before throwing her hands up in the air and pushing Pietro away from her. “Fine! I didn’t even want to come to this stupid party anyway!”

Pietro sighs heavily as she storms off.

“You sure letting her leave like that is a good idea?”

“Yeah,” he says through a grimace, falling back down onto the bench he and Crystal has been occupying. “It’s fine. We’ll work it out tomorrow. We always do.”

You have no doubt they’ll work it out, because he’s right, they always do. But you still can’t help but worry. How much more fighting and arguing can they take before they break? “Okay. Do you want me to get you a drink?”

He shakes his head and reaches for the red plastic cup by his feet. “I’m good, thank you.” He scoots over and pats the seat next to him.

You flash him a small smile and drop yourself down next to him, taking the chocolate strawberry he offers you before pressing his own strawberry against yours and scarfing it down.

“What’s with the doom and gloom?” Natasha finally joins you, finding you and Pietro sitting on the wooden bench, gorging on chocolate covered fruit. “It’s a party!”

You and Pietro don’t bother reacting to her shimmy of the arms, you instead cock an eyebrow. “Did you find your friend?”

She nods, smiling, looking over her shoulder and making a come here motion with her hand—and who exactly she motions over isn’t who you were expecting.

Not only is it Steve, but it’s Steve. Handsome, blue eyes, pretty Steve, who flashes you a bright smile even after you’ve seen him half naked.

Your mouth falls open in surprise. Steve? Why would it be Steve? As far as you knew, Steve doesn’t work as a security guard. Not at campus, not at the accounting firm he’s interning, and definitely not at a recreational center! He would’ve mentioned it, right? You look at Natasha, but she’s not looking at you, and she’s not looking at Steve either, you note.

She’s looking at someone behind him, someone shorter with darker hair—dirtier, and darker blue eyes—“Clint?”

All eyes snap in your direction, but you pay them no mind, you’re completely transfixed by the man wearing a purple hoodie and acid wash jeans, who immediately recognizes you and smiles cheekily.

“You know each other?” Natasha asks and it's Clint who explains with a nod.

“She’s a regular at the museum, usually comes in during my shift.”

“Huh.” Natasha huffs out a breath. “Small world.”

Steve chuckles and that sound would usually cause your heart to flutter, but you’re currently very much in awe of the fact that Natasha has adopted Clint as her friend. “Guess that makes it easier with the introductions.”

“Uh, excuse you. I don’t know who he is. Hi, I’m Pietro. And you are?”

“Clint Barton, security guard extraordinaire.”

Natasha smiles in Clint’s direction and leans against him, surprisingly enough—which is putting it lightly. You’re more than surprised, you’re absolutely floored, Pietro is too because he turns to you with wide eyes and mouths “what the fuck?”

What the fuck indeed.

Natasha isn't the type to be so… hands on or touchy with strangers (well, then again, Clint isn’t exactly a stranger). It took months—half a year to be exact—for her to be comfortable with touching Pietro, and being touched by him. But here she is, having known Clint for a couple of weeks—BARELY—and is already using Clint as a resting post.

Yeah.

It’s official.

Bucky is screwed.

A Stark party is a sensitive overload, if you’re being honest.

Here you are being rewarded with Steve looking mighty fine in a yellow button down and dark, regular jeans, but you’re somehow distracted by the way your best friend refuses to leave Clint’s side.

She’s smiling, chuckling that soft, genuine chuckle of hers when he cracks a joke or tells a funny story. There’s a spark in her smile and eyes that you haven’t seen in such a long time—not since high school.

You’re happy for her…. but…

This is going to hurt Bucky, isn’t it?

“Hey,” Steve’s warm voice reaches your ears and your body reacts without a minute to waste. Heat crawling up your neck as you practically rip your eyes from them to him.

“Steve, hey.”

“You look beautiful.” Your heart practically beats out of your chest, eyes widening at his sincere compliment and how he studies you with a warm gaze. It takes all of your energy to stay upright, even when the blood rushes to your head and your knees buckle.

He called you beautiful. Steve. Steve freaking Rogers!

Breathe and relax, doll. Flirting is simple conversation. Not an art. “Thank you.” Your voice is quiet, but still managing to be heard over the music if the tick of his lips is anything to go by. “You do too. Yellow is a good color on you.”

What? What kind of compliment is that?! Every color is a good color on Steve!

He chuckles, his eyes slipping down to the button down he’s wearing. “Thanks. This is actually Bucky’s. Told me I should wear it for tonight.” He fixes the collar of his shirt as the first button comes undone, and you can’t help but avert your gaze shyly. What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s just some skin, you dumbass! “You wouldn’t think so, but Bucky actually has an eye for picking out clothes,” he says fondly, proud of his best friend. “It’s one of his hidden talents.”

You return your gaze to him, but this time focus on his eyes, smiling when his own gaze meets yours. “I actually believe you. He helped pick out this romper for me.”

His eyes brows quirk upward. “Bucky did? Really?

“Uh, yeah, actually.” Did you say the wrong thing?

You almost grow worried when the silence between the two of you stretches for a moment longer until he smiles again, eyes softening. “I’m glad you’ve become Bucky’s friend.”

You’re not so sure you and Bucky ARE friends, especially not after he reiterated why you're both talking and helping eachother, but under Steve’s sincere gaze you can’t help the, “I’m glad too,” that slips from your lips. And you definitely don’t regret it when his smile widens.

“Ah, listen, I want to apologize about the other day,” he says, his cheeks red as he rubs the side of his neck and eyes drifting shyly off to the side. “I don’t usually open the door shirtless, but Bucky was hurrying me… and…”

Of course he was. God damn that Bucky! “No, no, it’s your home. You’re allowed to be comfortable. I’m sorry I was so awkward about it. I just--I have never seen that.” Steve’s eyes snap up in your direction and for a moment, you replay your words—have never seen that—what the hell is wrong with you? “I mean, I have. I definitely have seen a shirtless man before. Who hasn’t? I meant to say I have never seen you—you know what? I’m just going to shut up now.”

He blinks slowly and without warning he lets out a loud laugh that takes you off guard, but it fills your chest with warmth. You recognize this laugh; it’s his genuine laugh. The one that makes him throw his head back, hand clutching his chest, and laugh without any inhibitions. And you caused it. You.

You can’t help but chuckle along with him.

And when Steve finally calms down, he glances down at you with crescent eyes and a genuine smile. “You’re cute.”

Heat crawls to your neck and you can’t believe it’s possible to even get this hot and embarrassed. “Thank you?” you squeak.

This is good right? Steve across from you, drink in his hand and smiling down at you as if you’re the only people in the room. And you might as well be, because the music sounds so distant and Pietro’s laughter is muffled.

This is your chance.

This is where you put a hand on his shoulder; lean into his space a little and flash him your doe eyes that Bucky mentioned. This is it! This is where you hint at your feelings, this is—

“Steve!”

Damn it, Sam!

“Look who I found!”

The smile on his face drops and you can't help the way your body jerks when he mumbles the name, “Sharon,” so breathless.

You’re no longer the only two people in the room. The world spins and tilts, and it moves faster than you thought possible—all noise and music coming back to life and deafening you as Steve doesn’t spare you a glance to walk towards the beautiful blonde with kind brown eyes smiling at him.

You push through the crowd, needing to get away from whatever the fuck is going on inside. Steve barely even glanced at you after Sharon had appeared, which shouldn’t be surprising, really. His ex-girlfriend is beautiful and the two didn’t exactly break up on bad terms. They had decided that while she studied abroad at Cambridge for the year, it would be best for them to break up.

So really, you should’ve known that the moment she would showed up, you wouldn’t have a chance.

Not like you had a chance before. But you had hoped with all of your heart that maybe you could have a chance.

You were wrong. Bucky was wrong.

The fresh, cool air hits you as soon as you’re out on the front porch, and you release an exhale.

“Tough night, gorgeous?”

Your eyes snap to Tony, who sits on one of the porch chairs, legs kicked up on the small rounded table, and a cigarette in his hands. “You could say that.”

Tony puts out the cigarette by smashing the tip into the ashtray by his feet.

“Why aren’t you inside playing host?”

A smirk lifts his lips. “Taking a break. Hosting is a lot of work.”

You snort. “I’m sure.”

“Why aren’t you inside?” You shrug and watch as he stands up and moves to the chair over, pointedly looking at the now empty one as if inviting you to sit with him. You do. “Saw you getting chummy with Steve earlier. Didn’t know you had it in you, gorgeous. Bucky and Steve?”

You freeze, eyes widening as you sputter. “What? Bucky and I are just friends and Steve… Steve… is just a friend too.”

He chuckles. “So not gaga over Buckaroo, but definitely deep in the feels for golden boy. Got it.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Sure it isn’t.” He grins, but there’s no malice in his teasing and for some strange reason, you don’t mind it.

The music is muffled, even with the loud volume it’s set on. But you can make out Ariana Grande’s voice as she sings thank u, next.

“So, were you rejected by golden boy? Is that why you’re out here?”

“Rejected would imply I had a chance.”

“Why wouldn’t you have a chance?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“Sharon.”

“Ah, the ex girlfriend.” He tilts his head back against the headrest. “Is she back? I heard she was back. But you know how rumors are.” Is he alluding to himself?

You watch him and he all does is lift his lips into a smirk that has you shaking your head. Best not to dwell on it. Turning away from him to pull out your phone, you notice you have messages from Bucky and Pietro, but you don’t read either of them, instead going into the Uber app to get a ride home. “Guess so.”

He leans closer to you, peeking at your screen for a second before pulling back. “Ordering yourself a ride?”

You nod, watching as the screen changes when you confirm the addresses and the arrival time and map show up. In a couple of mins you’ll be on your way home. Thank god. “Yeah. I’m just—I’m just really tired.”

“Mind if I come with you?” he jokes, lopsided grin in his face.

You put your phone away once your ride is confirmed and find him no longer staring at you, but instead watching the empty streets, the occasional night drifter passing by. “For someone who likes throwing parties, you don’t seem to like being in yours.”

He chuckles. “Would you believe me if I told you I get tired?”

“Why throw them?”

He shrugs, but doesn’t answer and again, you don’t push him to either. You barely know him, and you have a feeling he’s told you more than he’s told anyone else in one seating.

“Okay,” you murmur and his eyes flicker in your direction before nodding and returning his gaze to the streets.

The two of you remain that way until your uber comes to pick you up. He walks you to the car door and opens the door for you, wishing you a goodnight and waiting until you’re far enough to head back inside.

Tony is an enigma, isn’t he? Everyone thinks they have him figured out, but you’re not so sure Tony even knows who he is himself.

Does Bucky?

You’re about ready to drop dead on your feet as you push open the front door and flick on the light to your apartment, your phone in hand as you mindlessly reading Pietro’s “where’d you go?” text. Honestly, you have half a mind to drop yourself on the sofa instead of your bed, even if your bedroom is only a few steps away from the sofa.

Just as you’re about to close the door behind you and are about to click on your text message thread with Bucky, the creaking of wooden flooring meets your ears and your eyes whip up, finding an unfamiliar woman standing next to your dining table with a hesitant smile and wide, green eyes.

“Who the fuck are you?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #reader insert #reader imagine #marvel imagine #unrequited series

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captainscanadian · 5 years

Text

Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 7)

My Masterlist

Summary: You finally decide to open up to your friends, realizing that opening up your heart would definitely make everything better. You knew exactly what you needed to be better.

Word Count: 7170

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Doctor!Natasha x Platonic!Reader, Lawyer!Peggy x Platonic!Reader, Doctor!Tony

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Abuse & Alcoholism, Surgery, Organ Donation, IV & Needles, Emotional Distress, Physical Pain, Drugs, Hospital Stay, Homelessness, Anxiety, Betrayal

A/N: After the last few updates, some of you have been very upset with me and I know that. I hope this make all of you happy. <3 Gif is not mine, credits to the respective owner!

Primum non nocere // “First, do no harm”

Though some may say that Latin was a dead language, it was that single Latin phrase which you had always lived by. No one really knew the origins of that phrase. Whether this exact phrase was even mentioned in the original Hippocratic Oath was debatable, but it is commonly believed that the promise “to abstain from doing harm” in the modern version oath itself came from this particular Latin phrase.

As a doctor, you had sworn to uphold the Hippocratic Oath in order to be able to practice medicine. But upholding the oath did not just apply to you practicing medicine alone. It was certainly binding; it was a sacred piece of text to all doctors, nurses and other medical professionals in the world for generations. It applied to the way you lived your life, just as much as it applied to the way you practiced medicine. Perhaps the Hippocratic Oath had been the reason why you were currently in this situation. After all, being a better person had been just as important to you as being a better doctor.

“I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures that are required, avoiding those twin traps of overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism.”

You had firmly believed that it was your duty to apply all measures that are required for the benefit of the sick. That was why you had even volunteered to donate your liver in the first place. Even if he was your abusive father, he was still a patient. This was a measure that only you could have taken, for you were your father’s only offspring. Anyone else may have had a choice in whether they must come forward to donate a piece of their liver to save another life, but as a doctor who had sworn to the Hippocratic Oath, you had been left with no choice. You had to do what you had to do. There was no other option for you than cutting out a piece of your own flesh.

“If it is given me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty. Above all, I must not play at God.”

It was true. You as a doctor, with your knowledge and the skills that you had acquired from the professors and surgeons before you, did have the power to take a life as much as you had the power to save a life. All it took was one wrong cut, one wrong dosage and one wrong judgement to take a life on your table. But as a physician, you could certainly not do that. You had to uphold the Hippocratic Oath. Did this certain promise to not use your power to take a life or play at God not apply to every other decision you made in your life? You did have the power to take your father’s life had you chosen not to move forward with the transplant. With his position on the list and the wait time for a liver transplant, he certainly would not have made it. But you knew that it was not the right thing to do. You could not violate your oath nor play at God like that. You had to do what was within your power to save his life, not take it.

“I will remember that I remain a member of society, with special obligations to all my fellow human beings, those sound of mind and body as well as the infirm.”

This was your obligation as member of society to your fellow human beings. Your father, regardless of who he was and whatever the issues you had with him, was a fellow human being who deserved to be treated as such.

You had thought that you did the right thing by donating your liver. You had saved his life and it had brought you a sense of relief. You had not brought him harm. You had often wondered if you leaving behind your parents had brought them more harm than good. Had you intentionally did them harm? While you wished that the answer was no, you knew that was certainly not the truth. After all, you had done them harm... though not physically, you had put them in harm’s way by worsening their financial situation. It was only a matter of time before they end up on the streets of Buck’s County, and as someone who’s had to live through that, even if it was for one night, you would not even wish that upon your worst enemy let alone your own parents.

You could not deny that a part of you wanted to fix this for them. You wanted nothing more than to make their lives easy. After all, you had made their lives harder as they had made your life harder as well. Sure, they had abused you. But you could not blame them for their behavior. Losing their business had put a strain on their whole being. While being a child who needed to be provided with food, clothing and shelter was certainly not your fault, you blamed the added stress of providing for a child along with the emotional distress that came with being bankrupt for being their reasons to take it all out on you. Had they been right about doing what they did? No, certainly not. But should you wish that they must continue to be punished for their wrong-doings? Had they not had enough, being hated by an entire town while their own child had fled them? Had they not had enough, with your father drinking away his health and your mother being burdened to be the sole breadwinner of the family? They had had enough. You could not let things get worse for them.

You certainly did have the money. But you also knew that paying off their medical bills would mean that you could no longer afford to keep your make shift clinic running at the local homeless shelter. You had been put in a position where you had to choose between the countless of homeless people who depended on that shelter and your clinic and your own biological family. And what kind of a daughter, let alone human being could you be, if you chose to help those unknown people while your own family might even end up in the streets at this point. This choice was certainly not as easy as the first one.

It had taken a few days for the hospital’s in-house attorney to draft a proper contract upon the request of Dr. James Barnes. But she had done it to the best of her ability, ensuring that by accepting his payment, your parents did agree to never contact you ever again. She had triple-checked that this contract had no loopholes and that you were protected from them, as you should have always been.

She had even informed Dr. Romanoff, Dr. Wilson and Dr. Parker of the situation, for they had been the doctors on your case and needed to know of the current circumstances between you and the recipient of your liver. However, she had only shared the financial aspects and not the emotional ones. After all, she still respected your privacy and decision not to over-share the issues your personal life with anyone else, even if they were your friends.

For the sake of protecting you and this hospital, though she knew that your parents were certainly not smart enough to come after the hospital anyways, she had also informed Dr. Stark of what Dr. Barnes was about to do. There was no reason for the hospital to be involved in this transaction, unless there was an eventual lawsuit, which there would not be. As long as the hospitals bills were paid off, Tony did not object to it. In a way, even he had cared about ensuring that your abusive parents were out of your life. He had even mentioned to Peggy about him paying off the bills out of his own pocket; all it took was a little nudge from the attorney for the Chief of Surgery to understand that this was Bucky’s burden to bear.

“No, he pays them off. She finds out, even though he doesn’t want her to. Then she’ll finally realize that he’s been in love with her all along. She’ll ask him about it. He’ll have no choice but to fess up and they’ll both live happily ever after. Is that not what you want, Tony?” Peggy Carter had asked him, a hint of frustration evident in her voice. As a mother herself, she was disappointed extremely disappointed at what your own parents had done. If she could have done more than just draft a contract in this situation, she would have done it all. Hell, she would have taken their asses to court and ripped them to shreds if you did have a strong case. But you did not and this was the next best thing she could do for you. “Because that’s literally what every single person in this entire fucking hospital wants at this point.”

“Do you really think he’ll fess up though? I made a bet with Pep. She says he will but... I wouldn’t put all of my faith in him.” Tony had remarked with a chuckle.

“This thing’s been going on and on forever. It’s about time it all came to an end.”

“But he doesn’t even want her to know that he’s paying them off. How is she going to find out about it?” He had asked the lawyer, his eyebrow raised at her.

“Do you think I’m an idiot, Tony?” She asked the man as she crossed her arms against her chest. “He can be this selfless, righteous... ‘I just want to protect her even though she doesn’t love me back and I don’t want to put my money down because of my own personal gains’ ... all he wants, but I’m not going to let him do whatever he pleases by now. The bloke’s the godfather of my child and she’s the closest thing Steve’s had to a sister. Those two are going to get together by the end of this thing and I’ll make sure of it.”

“Sounds like you’re meddling, Peggy. Are you a meddler though?” He asked as he feigned a dramatic gasp. “Is this what my father taught you? Meddling? Really? Is that what Howard taught you to do in court? How often do you do this in court anyways? How much have you meddled in the past?”

“Oh get over yourself...” She rolled her eyes at him. “As a matter of fact, your father did... teach me what it means to meddle in certain cases, not that I agreed with him or anything like that. There is a reason why I left his firm all those years ago but that’s not the point. This isn’t a court case, its Bucky and Y/N’s life and I’m going to meddle... the living shit out of it if it means that we’ll get a happy ending. Steve agrees that someone’s got to do something and he knows he’s not the right one to do it either. So, I’m going to meddle and get those two together, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

“I guess I better get ready to lose my bet with Pepper then.”

While Peggy did not completely agree with Bucky’s decision to pay off your parents himself, she knew that this was the only plausible solution to your dilemma. Though there were certain legal actions that could have been taken against your parents, she knew that you would not want to go forward with that. And even if you did make that call and had approached her for legal advice yourself, she would have told you not to do it. After all, the court would have suggested settlement anyways. A case of emotional extortion would not stand in court and knowing of your past, the last thing Peggy would have wanted was for you to relive that trauma in a court room. The court room was a brutal place just as it was and you had suffered enough.

“Are you alright, love?” She asked you as she sat down at the edge of your bed, her hand reaching over to grab yours. “I know you’ve had a rough couple of days but is there anything... anything we could do for you?”

Your eyes glazed over as you shook your head. “No... no, I... I’ll be fine, Peg.” You croaked out. You were still in and out of consciousness, thanks to the pain medications that continued to be pumped into your system. The dosage was controlled, but it made no difference. Even when you were completely knocked out, a part of you still felt the pain. But you could not tell for sure if the pain you had been feeling was physical or emotional. It was blurry...

“Sweetheart, you know you can talk to us about anything... right?” Natasha asked you as she stood by your bedside. To say that a part of her felt slightly frustrated that you had not opened up to her over the years would be an understatement. But she understood that you must have had a valid reason for trusting only a few people. Though she could not deny that she had grown to despise your parents a lot more now that she had found out about their attempt at extorting money from you, she had tried her hardest not to show it when she had to face them. After all, she was still in a conflicted position being your father’s doctor and your friend. She wanted nothing more than for all of this to be done for good. After hearing from Peggy about Bucky’s decision, all she could do was hope that the man would finally come forward and confess his feelings to you. She knew that he did not want to do that but she also knew him. She had known him for years, ever since they were residents. If anything, Dr. James Barnes was good and fixing broken hearts and your broken heart was indeed his to fix. “We’re your friends, Y/N. We’re here for you because we care about you. You know that, right?”

You sniffled as you turned over to look at your general surgeon, though you tried to ignore her words. A part of you wondered if your request might offend her, but it was for the best. You did not want to hurt her as much as you did not want to get yourself hurt again as well. You had a reason to want what you had wanted, so you might as well just ask her already. “Actually... Nat, there is something you could do for me.” You told her with a nervous smile, a sigh escaping your chapped lips as you looked over at her..

The red-headed surgeon perked up at your response. “Sure, what is it? What can I do for you?” Ever since you had first started working it this hospital, Natasha Romanoff had been the one who had constantly approached you in hopes of befriending you. Though her attempts had often failed, she took no offense to that. She had heard from Steve that you were not the kind of person who liked to hang out in a large group of people so she had let it slide until you were ready to accept her friendship.

You could not deny that this woman was extremely forward and perky, much to your dismay at first. It may have taken you a few weeks to warm up to her, thanks to a heart-liver transplant that the two of you had first worked together on. But eventually, you had managed to hang out with her outside of work. You were not one to go out a lot, but when you did, it had always been because you had accepted Natasha’s invite.

Even when it came to her being your father’s doctor, you had requested for her to be yours too. In most transplant cases, the donor and the recipient had different doctors and a whole separate team dedicated to them, working on them separately. But Natasha had been the one you had trusted with your own life. You had asked her to be the one to cut you open and remove your liver and she had made the arrangements to do so. You had trusted her to be your doctor and she was your doctor, a good one at that.

“Can you... can you refer me to... psych?” You asked her as you looked down at your lap. “Preferably with Dr. Rhodes, he already has a file on me and he’s familiar with me... I think I have a lot to talk to him about.”

Dr. Romanoff frowned at your request as she walked up to you, sitting down across from Peggy and taking your other hand in hers. “Y/N, honey...” She let out a sigh and you could have sworn that you saw her eyes glaze over with tears. “I’m not going to pressure you to open up to us. None of what’s been happening to you lately is any of our business. But it breaks my heart that you... that you’d rather share what’s going on with you to a psychiatrist than your own friends. I don’t know what it would take for you to trust us... but we’re all here for you and we’re all worried about you. I just want you to know that we’re not going to leave you hanging. And as your doctor, I’m telling you... you don’t need a psychiatrist. You need a friend. You need a family and you have a god damn family. You have all of us.”

You wanted to believe it. You really did. But you did not know if you should. Someone else had said these exact words to you all those years ago and you had believed her, only to realize how wrong you had been about putting all of your trust in her. She had also said the opposite of these exact words to you to and you had still believed her. For all these years, you had held back from making close friends because you had been terrified to get hurt again, the same way she had hurt you.

Peggy reached over to place her free hand on Nat’s shoulder and turned over to look at you with a frown that matched hers. “Sweetheart, come on... we’re not going to let you go through this alone. Steve’s not going to let you go through this alone. Tony’s not going to let you go through this alone. Barnes... is not going to let you go through this alone.”

You could not deny that your heart skipped a beat when the woman had mentioned his name. Dr. James Barnes had always had a special place in your heart. You knew that you shared a very special bond with him, a bond that was just not the same as what you had or did not have with anyone else at this Brooklyn Hospital. You had met him that night when you had been at one of your lowest points in life; you had been ready to give up on your entire career that night, which had been the one thing that had kept you going up until that point. You would have given up on your whole life had you not met him, for he had told you to aim to be a better surgeon and you had strived to be just that over the years. In a way, he was the reason why you were still alive today.

You remembered the first time you had become acquainted with his name though. It was not when you had first arrived at Brooklyn Hospital. No, it was years before that. You had been a fourth year medical student at NYU Med at that time, meeting with one of your former undergraduate professors for coffee. Though the woman had only taught you in your freshman year, you had kept in touch with her throughout the years of your undergrad and medical school. She had always appreciated having her former students come back to visit her, though you knew that you weren’t the only one who had kept in touch with her over the years.

When you had mentioned that you were planning on becoming a cardiothoracic surgeon following your graduation from NYU Med, she had recalled to you that two of her former students had went on to become successful cardiothoracic surgeons in Brooklyn. All it took was a Google search for you to find out who they were, Dr. Steven Rogers and Dr James Barnes. In a matter of hours, you knew exactly why the two of them were the best heart surgeons in all of New York. You had read every article they had published on the medical journal and watched every video of their surgeries that had been recorded and published for teaching purposes. They really were the best at what they did and you knew that training under one of them was the only way to succeed in your own career.

You had become determined to land a fellowship at Brooklyn Hospital and had worked your butt off during residency to get there. You had made it where you wanted to be. But even then, things did not seem like they were going to get better for you, at least not until you had met Dr. Barnes. He made you want to be better. He made you better.

Over the years, you had gotten to know Bucky as much as you had gotten to know Steve. Aside from having to work closely together, he had been one of the few people whom you had gotten to know outside of work as well. Although that had not been your intention, you could not deny that he had gotten to know you a little more than you would have allowed him to.

Perhaps the turn of recent events had been you realize just how oblivious you had been to your own emotions. But you felt something for that man. You knew you did, even though a part of you knew that he may just be way out of your league and he may not feel the same way about you. You did not have the courage to act on these feelings but you knew that you felt something for him, you had been feeling something for him the moment he had walked into your make shift clinic at the homeless shelter that night.

It may have been his dark jeans and leather jacket that he had been wearing that night. They did make him look extremely attractive. It may have been the way he had come all the way to the shelter after not finding you at home and apologized for the way he had treated you in the OR. He sure had been persistent that night. He had respected you enough to give you a personal apology and no one had ever treated you with such courtesy. It may have been the way he had walked you back home or told you that you were capable of doing better than what life had to offer you. He was a true gentleman though. There was no denying that. But that snowy night in New York, when you had ditched the formalities and gathered the courage to address him by his first name, you had fallen for him. And unbeknownst to you, that same night when you had called him by his first name, your James had fallen for you too.

“Peggy, where’s Barnes?” You asked her as you turned over to look at her, biting down on your chapped bottom lip as you let the tears stream down your face. “He hasn’t come by to see me in the last couple of days. I haven’t seen him since... before my mother... came to see me.” The James Barnes you knew had not dared to leave your bedside since the moment you had first woken up from your surgery. But when you needed him the most, he was nowhere to be found. “I know he was mad at me for... not listening to him and going forward with this transplant. But is... is he...” You could not find the words to say that all you wanted at that moment was his presence, the glint of his bright blue eyes and his genuine smile that always calmed you down. You wanted his hands on top of yours or your head to rest on his shoulders like that day in the supply room almost two weeks ago. All you wanted was James, even if he did not want you. You wanted that clarity that he always brought to you.

“Well... I’m glad you asked about him because I didn’t know how to start that conversation.” The British woman let out a sigh of relief as she gave your hand a squeeze. “He’s... not mad at you, darling. I can tell you that for sure. He’ll never be mad at you. He respects you and your bodily autonomy above anything else. He’s... just been a bit busy with patients, you know... you know how it is. He’s also been... um...” If the woman could just spit out Bucky’s plan and did her meddling as she should, she knew that all would be well. But she was hesitant about sharing this with you, for a part of her was worried about your reaction while another part of her was not willing to break Bucky’s trust. She felt conflicted, even though she knew exactly what she had to do.

“I miss him...” You admitted, a small smile creeping upon your lips. “I miss... him sitting on that chair with a book in his hand and pretending to read it even though he knows I’m awake and watching him. He’ll keep reading until he gets to the end of the page before he turns over to look at me... I miss his smile, the way he always calls me ‘doll’ and... I miss him... scolding me for not wanting anymore pain meds... and grabbing my PCA remote and pushing the button himself because he can’t stand to see me in pain. I miss him watching me doze off. I miss him... placing a kiss on my forehead... when I fall asleep. I was pretty sure I was hallucinating when I first felt him do that but... he did it more that once so I know that actually happened... more than once. I miss... waking up to him... and... he was always there and I felt safe, like I could get through this with him at my bedside. But ever since he left me... things haven’t been getting better and... I don’t know. I miss him.”

Natasha and Peggy looked at each other with wide eyes before quickly looking back to you. “What?” They both said, in unison. They both knew what this meant. You must not have been as oblivious to Bucky’s feelings as they had thought you were. Not to mention that it seemed as though you had felt the same way about them. If they only knew for sure, they would know just how to meddle with things.

You leaned back your head against your pillow as you close your eyes, thinking about everything that had happened to you that had led up to this moment. “Margaret...” You whispered, as though her name had imprinted itself as a curse word in your mind. Saying the name of the woman who had somehow instilled some sort of fear in your heart had been terrifying itself to say the least. But you knew that you had to let her go. It was the only way you could finally allow yourself to open up to anyone. To Natasha and to James.

“What?” Peggy perked up at the sound of her name. You did know that it was her name. Perhaps, she may have been the reason why you believed that not all Margaret’s could be so cruel.

You opened your eyes to look at the woman and shook your head, letting out a sigh. “Margaret. She was my... roommate... at NYU. The first real friend I had... or so I thought. It was strange to me, you know... to find a friend in someone that the housing department had assigned to live with me. But I... I was young, just turned eighteen, finally out of the system, on my own and starting college... I was so excited to have a friend after being alone for... my whole life. I had a whole life ahead of me and... Here was... someone who... who actually gave a shit about me and I was grateful that... I had someone to call my friend, maybe even my found-family.” You could not help the tears that continued to stream down your face, the ping at your heart as you had just opened up the baggage you had been unnecessarily holding onto for years. “You know that feeling that you get when you... think that this person would be there for you throughout your whole life when no one else would? That was her. I thought she would be my best friend for life but... I was wrong about that.”

Natasha was still holding onto your hand as you continued to speak. The thought of you having had a best friend in the past did not surprise her to the slightest. After all, she firmly believed that anyone who met you would genuinely want to be your friend, as she had done so when she had first met you. But she could not help but wonder how this friendship had ended for you, since it had certainly left such a lasting impact on your social life, even after all of these years. Whatever happened between you and this Margaret, it must have caused you a lot of pain. Because if there was one thing that she had just realized, it was that this person was the reason why you had been so closed off; the reason why you had been hesitant to accept her friendship at first. There was one thing that she knew for sure though. Whatever may have happened with you and your former friend, it must not have been your fault. She knew you well enough to know that you would never intentionally even hurt a fly, let alone another human being.

“I mean, we were best friends. We... spent a lot of time together, did things that friends in college... did. She was the one who took me to my first college party, bought me my first drink when I turned twenty-one... she really got me to come out of my shell. And I was willing to do that for her. I was willing to put myself out there for her; I never did that for anyone. I went above and beyond for her... you know... I valued her friendship so much that I was willing to sacrifice... anything for her. No one wanted to be my friend through high school because everyone hated my parents. No one knew my parents in New York, no one cared who they were or what they did... or who I was, really. So, her wanting to be a close friend of mine... I was grateful. I gave up a campus job once in first year because she needed a job; I had two other jobs already so it was fine. I... uh... always did things when she asked me to... like... things that she did around campus. She... had joined a sorority and when she... did these events for them, I would buy myself a ticket and show up because I wanted to support her. Charity fundraisers... I was the first one to donate. I... couldn’t afford it but... being a good friend was more important to me and I would have expected her to do the same for me. I guess... we were close friends, but maybe it was just... me... maybe I was the only one who thought that when she didn’t...? I don’t know how things... even happened. I mean, after a while... she started hanging out with all of her sorority sisters a lot more... ditched me but... I didn’t think much of it at first. You know, I... I’m not an idiot. I did notice that she was spending a lot less time at home, but I really didn’t think much of it. I thought I was overreacting... and I let it slide.” You paused to take a breath. “I didn’t think she was... deliberately trying to distance herself from me. I mean... it was my fault.”

Peggy was listening intently as you spoke, for you had not even told her or Steve about this certain Margaret. But there must have been a reason why you had kept this from them. If you had kept it from them for as long as you had done, it made her wonder why you had chosen to share this with her and Natasha rather than her and Steve. Why now? The problem was your parents, right? So, why were you bringing up your former friend? She wanted to put the puzzle pieces together but she was unable to figure it out on her own.

“I... I always told her everything... everything about me and... What I’d been through, what was going on with me. I mean, she had to live with me... right, so... I know I had a lot of emotional baggage then, still do now but... back then, I was younger and a lot more... vulnerable. The wounds were still fresh. I just needed someone to lean on and she was always there... she didn’t mind it. She always told me that she didn’t... until one night. I remember being in my room, studying for a Biology exam. It was... December... and it was snowing really badly. I could see the snow falling from my bedroom window and... The next thing I knew, I felt like... I don’t know, I had an anxiety attack. I felt like the room was closing in on me and it just... I couldn’t breathe. I was shaking, I was cold... I remember putting a sweater on and just... hiding under my blanket. The heater was on. I tried to warm myself up but... I felt cold, my feet were numb. I panicked and I didn’t know what to do. My first instinct was to grab my phone and call her. She didn’t pick up and... I was... my hands were shaking so much when I texted her. I asked her where she was, she said that she was just leaving class and that she wasn’t coming home that night. I told her that I was... having a panic attack and that I needed help... that it felt like the night... that night in the snow storm... she knew what it meant. I had told her about what happened that night with my mother... so she knew why I was feeling... the way I did. But... just when I needed her the most... just when I thought that... she would... at least try to get me some help...” You felt a sob before wincing in pain and you could have sworn that you had felt a tug at your heartstrings. Margaret was not an easy subject to talk about but she was necessarily. She was the reason why you had given up on finding any sort of companionship in anyone, whether it was a genuine friendship or a romantic relationship.

Dr. Romanoff immediately sprung to her feet, moving over to gently pull you into a side-hug, careful not to mess with the wires and tubes that were still attached to you. Honestly, at this point she could care less about them though. If she did mess them up, she could just put them back in you herself. She knew that you needed a hug and she was going to give you a damn hug.

“The next thing she said to me... the last thing she ever said to me before she moved into her sorority house... she said and I quote, ‘Fuck off, I’m not a qualified therapist,’ and... I kid you not... it hurt like a bitch when she said that. I was shocked... I was... I didn’t know what to do, I... I knew that I’d just lost the one friend I had, I wasn’t sure if... she was the one real friend anymore but... I thought it was my fault. I blamed myself. I had ruined something for myself, I felt like I could never do anything right. Things were finally starting to get better and I had... just fucked it up with her. I just cried myself to sleep that night.” You admitted as you let out another sob, leaning your head gently against the red-headed surgeon’s shoulder as you sobbed.

“Holy shit, what a bitch!” Peggy exclaimed as she stood up to hug you from the other sweetheart. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry... you had to deal with her. You know, none of that is true. You’re...” Even she was at a loss for words as she turned over to look at Natasha and gave her a nod. If was not the right time for you to know just how unconditionally loved really were, she did not know when it would be. You needed to know what Bucky was about to do and she was going to tell you either way.

“I thought she was my friend but... she had hurt me. I never saw her again but... after what happened with her, I just... couldn’t get myself to become friends with anyone. I couldn’t let myself trust someone and... Give my all in a friendship and get nothing in return. To have my feelings be hurt like that... Nat, I didn’t mean to push you away for all these years. I was just terrified... terrified to get close to anyone because... you become close to someone, you tell them everything, do everything for them... one day, they’ll be your best friend and the next day, they’ll tell you to get a therapist.”

“Oh Y/N...” Natasha Romanoff did not utter a she word as she held onto you, her arms wrapped tightly over your shoulder as she gently held you against her body. Her hand stroked through your hair as you continued to sob, and you had felt the weight that you had been holding onto for years start to fade away. “I’m so sorry you had such a terrible friend. I can understand why you would have had such a hard time trusting anyone after what she did, after what your own mother did. People suck, Y/N... I know that for sure. But not all of us can be so terrible. We’re not like that; we won’t ever... judge you or throw you away like that. We are actually in it for life.”

“I’ve been... I’ve been holding myself back from trusting people, from having relationships. I kept believing that I wasn’t worthy of being loved because... I thought no one could love me.”

“Oh honey, you know that’s not true...”

Peggy looked over at Natasha and bit her lip. “No, it’s not... Y/N, I can’t speak for all Margaret’s but I’m sure that not all of us are such devils. I mean, at least I’m not like that and you know that. I would be honored to be your replacement Margaret if you would let me. I... I hope you would let me.”

You gave her a weak smile through the tears. “Yeah, well... you’re a much better Margaret than her, Peggy. But... um... I’m still scared... I.. I want to tell him everything, everything since the very beginning... the night I left Buck’s County, the day I got to New York, Margaret... my parents... the loss of a sense of belonging... a sense of being loved... that I lost years ago... the sense of belonging that I lost when I left home... that I didn’t get back until that night... when I was crying in an on call room and he made me realize... that I did belong in this hospital. He made me better... he makes me better, and I need him right now. I want to be better. I want him. Buck’s County is not my home... it never was, that’s where I left. But Bucky Barnes... James... he wouldn’t tell me to fuck off and get a therapist if I opened up to him and... told him how I really feel about... everything, would he?”

Natasha was in tears when she realized what all of this meant. Things were finally starting to be better for both of her friends and all she could do was hope that they ended well. She pulled back from the hug before wiping away her tears, her hands on his hips as she looked down at you and shook her head. “Fuck, no... of course, not!” She told you as she let out a chuckled. “If he dares to do such a thing, I’ll pull him by his hair and drag his ass through hell myself.”

Peggy Carter let out a sigh of relief as she wiped away her tears, hugging you for a moment longer before she pulled back. “As a matter of fact, he... he’s been thinking about making things better for you long before any one of us did. He... uh... he’s decided to take care of your dad’s medical bills himself. Of course, he didn’t want you to find out what he was going to do because you would have said no. But um... he said he’ll take care of it. He’ll make sure that your parents are well taken care of... financially speaking.”

You reached your hand up to wipe away your tears, a small chuckle escaping your lips. “James was always quite philanthropic. But it makes sense because... he... my clinic received a cheque from an anonymous donor a few years ago. I knew it was him because he... he has a big heart, even though he says he doesn’t. He’s always had a big heart.”

“You knew...? You knew it was him?”

You nodded. “I’ve known all along, Nat. I’ve known everything. I was just dumb enough to believe that I didn’t deserve any of it. But I’ll be doing much better once I see him. I need to see him.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #doctor!bucky #marvel x reader #marvel au #tw abuse #tw alchoholism #tw surgery #tw needles #tw pain #tw anxiety #aj writes #better

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bbparker · 5 years

Text

Infinity (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

The Reason Tim Halperin & Infinity by James Young the main influences for this fic!

SPOILERS FOR ENDGAME AHEAD

A/N: welcome back! I absolutely love this and I hope you’re all enjoy it too!

MASTERLIST

2ND WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD

Steve stood amongst the bushes, watching as Bruce adjusted and checked over the machinery responsible for taking him back in time to return the stones. His gaze then moved over to the smiling face of his best friend Bucky Barnes and (y/n) (y/l/n).

Ever since he has introduced the two of them during the events of the civil war, they were inseparable and it broke his heart to watch (y/n) fall apart as she lost him five years ago. (y/n) even came to Wakanda to help him, talking, rehabilitation; hell, she even stayed on the farm with him.

When he had reappeared, It was almost like the life had come back to her face every time her eyes glanced up at the man.

Steve sighed and finished adjusting his gloves. He knew going back into the past and staying there was going to be harsh on her but this was it for him.

Steve had served in four wars, and many more battles. It was time for him to try some of that freedom that he’d fought so hard for.

Moving towards the machine, Bruce handed Steve the case containing the infinity stones.

“You know, I could come with you.” Sam Wilson offered, smiling gently. Steve declined and hugged the man, hopefully pouring all his emotions into the one act. Something Sam definitely picked up but didn’t question.

Looking to (y/n), he laughed at her overly bright smile.

“Well, Rogers, off into the unknown once again. I’d say don’t get into trouble but we know you’re a magnet for it.” Laughing, Steve brought her in for a hug, slightly stroking her hair in a brotherly fashion. Pulling away, he looked right into her eyes with a tone of sadness.

“You know, ever since I met you when I first got out of that damn ice, you’ve been one of my best friends. I couldn’t have asked for a more compassionate, kind, and strong partner in crime, or the sister I never had. Just take care of him while I’m gone.” Both parties looked over the Bucky, who pretended not to listen in with his super hearing by looking around and fiddling with a tree bark awkwardly.

They chuckled at the obvious demeanour which was quite humorous for a world-renowned assassin. Upon recognising his tone, (y/n) frowned and returned to her friend.

“Steve, why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye? It’s like a five minute journey.”

“But a long, long time for me.” She was suspicious but trusted him and in turn, wrapped her arms around his waist once again.

“Thank you Steve, I’ll see you soon.” (y/n) thought she heard a sniff but as she allowed him to move from her grasp, she saw no traces of emotion.

Steve finally approached Bucky with a soft smile as (y/n) turned to talk to Sam and give the two best friends their privacy.

“You gonna be okay?” Bucky began watching as Steve glanced around him before allowing his eyes to rest on the soldier. In one look, Steve knew he knew about his plan.

“I think I should be asking you that, Buck.” The brunette man looked towards the smiling girl he had yet to ask out; a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah… I think I will be. I mean 100 years of fighting peoples wars, we deserve a life with the people we love.” Bucky clasped a hand on his friends shoulder.

“Are you going to tell her?” Both men glanced over as the woman now fiddling with the controls as Bruce attempted to swat her away without accidentally hulk-launching her across the floor, resulting in a pout from her. They chuckled at her silly antics, turning to each other once more.

“Yeah, I think I will. (Y/N)’s waited a long time for me… and she’s the one, Steve.” Steve watched as the playboy he knew from Brooklyn became the one with the stolen heart for once. They heard a small scream and watched as (y/n) was launched a small distance into the air and away from the equipment.

Bucky winced slightly, watching the enhanced girl stand up again, unharmed and brush the dirt off.

“I’m okay guys.” (y/n) huffed laughing slightly when she noticed the men looking at her. One with a proud smile as she stood tall and the other with a brotherly smirk as he observed the pair.

“But I think I should be wishing you the best of luck with that one. Energetic, sarcastic and just a hint of crazy. She’s perfect for you.” Bucky laughed, punching Steve in the arm as (y/n) marched past them to lecture Bruce about throwing a person just because they annoy you. Steve continued, while Bucky lingering gaze remained on (y/n) before returning to his friend.

“But take my advice and experience on waiting too long… go get your girl. ” Steve gave his friend a wide smile.

“I’m just lucky to have her in the here and now after everything.” Steve seemed to look at Bucky with a nostalgic smile, him having said something similar about Peggy.

“But you’re leaving as well Steve and honestly that’s okay. We’ll be okay.”

“I know.” Bucky and Steve laughed as they watched (y/n) get thrown for the second time. Their deep chuckles catching the attention of (y/n), who peered over from the floor. Upon catching Bucky’s eyes she began blushing, tucking hair behind her ear.

Steve looked back to Bucky, observing his laughing face and the small details of everything that is him; ingraining them in his mind.

Yes, Bucky would be just fine without him.

“Don’t do anything stupid until I come back.” Steve said suddenly as he brought Bucky into his arms, both men hugging for what they knew might be the last time.

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Steve gave a small laugh and shook his head as he walked up the steps to the machine. As his helmet covered his face, his eyes watched as his best friend was approached by (y/n).

Bucky looked down at her softly as she began talking to him gently and slipping her hand into his human one easily. Bucky smiled once more. It was the happiest Steve had seen him in years. The smile was then turned to him along with a small nod.

Taking a breath, Steve was then transported into the past.

“How long is this supposed to take again?” Sam asked as he crossed his arms.

“At least some of us listen, Sam. It could be near months for him but for us it’ll be seconds.” (y/n) scoffed before smiling at her friend as he jokingly scowled back at her. Hearing Bruce countdown until Steve’s return, (y/n) became nervous, something felt off.

Bucky nervously fidgeted, the air felt tense and (y/n) had a warning in her gut.

Steve was coming back, right?

Upon feeling her hand being lightly squeezed, (y/n) glanced to her side to see Bucky peering down at her with that soft face he always had when he looked at her.

“(Y/n), I hope you can forgive me for not telling you.” But this wasn’t the face she was expecting when he was going to ask her out, this was one of regret.

“Telling me what?” The sounds of Bruce and Sam panicking brought her attention back to the situation.

“Bring him back!”

“I’m trying but he didn’t meet the scheduled time point!” (y/n)’s eyes widened as she became furious, understanding immediately. Bucky knew and he didn’t even allow her to say a proper goodbye. Ripping her hand from his, she turned towards him ready to attack but when her eyes met the blue of his, she couldn’t.

Bucky, though showered and refreshed, still looked battle worn. He and Steve had been fighting all their lives, it wasn’t right to say they couldn’t have a happy ending because she wanted them there; they deserved it.

Bucky’s eyes looked pained as they watched her anger direct towards him before falling flat. He’d never seen those expressions directed towards him and he’s be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit frightened.

What if she walked away? What if she never wanted to see him again?

Her eyes, however, moved over his shoulder as a new figure appeared.

“Sam.” She gasped out, Bucky turning to look at the small figure in the distance. Sam walked past the pair, (y/n) about to follow suit before she felt Bucky grasp her hand gently, allowing her to leave if she wished.

“Wait, (y/n).” Bucky spoke, nervous.

“I get it.” She said softly, watching as Steve and Sam talked. Bucky was surprised by the mild tone and held her hand a little more confidently. However, (y/n) released his hand and walked down the small slope to her mentor, her friend and brother of many years.

Bucky let her go, knowing this is what (y/n) needed and if she wanted, he would still be here, waiting for her.

Passing Sam, now holding Steve’s shield, (Y/N) approached tentatively. As she rounded around the bench, her eyes never left Steve.

“S-steve?” (y/n) asked, sight tears building in her eyes as she looked down as what used to be one of the strongest men she knew. Now reduced to a frail old man with a small frame.

“(Y/N), its good to see you after so many years.” Slowly sitting down, (y/n) never took her eyes off of him as she observed him.

“Well, it was like five minutes ago for me and I have to say Steve, that five minutes of time were not good to you.” Steve released a hearty laugh, a hand placed on his chest as he leant back slightly. The laughter lasted longer than usual and (y/n) became worried.

“Stop laughing Steve! You’re going to give yourself a heart attack or somethin’!” Her eyes were wide and Steve’s laugh grew louder. This continued for another minute or two before the older man was able to calm down and wipe his eyes.

“Yes, well its been well over five minutes for me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but-”

“It was time to move on. I know.” Steve seemed surprised by (y/n)’s lack of anger at him for leaving her. Leaning back on the bench as she turned to look at the sunset, sighing.

“Steve, I’ve known for a while that your time with us was limited. No matter who said it- Fury, Ultron, HYDRA, S.H.I.E.L.D- you were not made to be a soldier forever.” Steve said nothing as he watched her with a surprised expression.

“But the tin can was right in Sokovia about one thing. Things are beautiful because they are apart of a temporary moment in time. It makes you treasure the things you had.”

“Or could have?” Steve smiled secretly at her, glancing behind her to the long haired man.

“Have you been waiting, like, 60 years to say that to me?” (y/n) gave a humorous smile, looking at the best friend she’d ever had.

“Would you laugh if I said yes?” (y/n), of course, laughed, catching the attention of Bucky. Steve didn’t miss his sudden attention on (y/n) either.

“Thank you Steve. You rescued me from more than you’ll ever know but I wanted you to know that I’ll be okay. I’m happy you went back to her- to Peggy. She was the one for you, I know.” Steve seemed surprised yet again but covered it with a smile. Reaching into his pocket, Steve pulled out a long strands of metal.

“I knew you were too smart for your own good.” Steve laughed as a small blush came to his cheeks. (y/n) couldn’t believe after all these years he was still blushing over Peggy Carter.

“I wanted to repay you for being by my side all these years, but I couldn’t think of anything in all honesty, that could possibly measure to that. That was until I was digging through some boxes and found these.” Steve opened his hand and inside of it was his and Bucky’s dog tags from the war.

“Steve i-i cant take these. Thats between you a-and Bucky! I could never.”

“You can and you will. My time may be coming to a close but James’ isn’t. He has a future here, in this time and with the Avengers.” Steve smiled softly and grabbed her hand, placing them in her smaller ones.

“With you.” Steve finished. (Y/N) didn’t respond. Instead she launched at Steve and wrapped her arms around him for the final time- the tags still wrapped in her palm.

Lastly, it was Bucky's turn to chat to Steve but it seemed all had been said and their meeting was brief before Steve walked away one final time, a simple pat on the shoulder for Bucky. By this time, night had fallen and the only thing to light up the forest were the moon and the stars.

Bucky stood up from the bench and turned to leave after watching the last piece of his past walking away, only to find his future standing and looking back at him.

Slowly she approached, the light of the moon and stars gracing her face delicately as Bucky marvelled in it.

“I know it’s taken me awhile and i’m so sorry for making you wait. But I’m thankful you did bec-” (y/n) covered his mouth with her hand, smiling, as Bucky attempted to launch into some kind of love confession. She had a much better way to go about it.

Slowly, her other hand unraveled to reveal a necklace and held it out to Bucky. Looking down his eyes widened at the two thin metal plates. (Y/N) then removed her hand from his mouth, allowing her to see his slightly gaped mouth.

“Doll, where-where did you get it from?” Bucky was slightly choked up as his human hand came up, fingers gliding over the necklace gently.

“They’re yours if you want them… just like me. Steve gave these to me and while I am admittedly keeping yours, it would be wrong not to give you something of his; of your past. Some stories are have come to an end but I can’t help but feel you and I have got a lot of chapters to write.” Bucky’s heart hammered as (y/n) moved just a tad closer, her words swirling around his head.

Looking down slightly, he caught sight of his own dog tag around her neck, the other plate having been lost during the war. His mouth continued to gape slightly, somewhat enjoying having her wear something that belonged to him. Bucky’s dog tags where a symbol of his past and in a way, her saying she was accepting him.

Now she was asking if he’ll accept Steve as a part of his past and her, his future.

“Well, I always did love finding out about the future.” Carefully, he picked up the tags from her hand and clasped them around his neck. His eyes moved from his chest to the woman so close to him, he could smell her perfume.

“Then let me start by saying I am so in love with you Barnes and I have been waiting five god damn years to tell you.” As her hands came to reach either side of his cheeks, Bucky finally gave a smile. (y/n) began leaning, bringing her face ever closer to his.

His smile lit up her world as blue eyes watched her with all the adoration she could possibly imagine. Bucky’s hands came to lay on her waist, having a tight hold as he pulled her closer to him.

“Well then miss (y/n), I apologise for being late again, its a habit.” In a single defining moment, (y/n)’s lips met his and his grip tightened and brought her impossibly closer. As (y/n) pulled away for air, he followed to reconnect them as they broke and fell back together over and over.

When they finally came apart one last time, Bucky looked down to his love to find tears slowly falling down her cheeks as they sparkled in the moonlight. He was in awe and for that moment he didn’t know what to say, until her eyes met his.

“I love you, (y/n), and I’ll never stop.”

“Thats a big promise Barnes, are you sure about that?” He simply kissed her again as he repeated his reply in his head like a prayer.

For Infinity.

Because, while to others this was the endgame, for them, it was just the start. They knew they belonged by each others side.

With nothing but the stars as their witness, love tainted by time and tragedy became so much more.

Soulmates bound by fate.

5 YEARS LATER

“After that, we simply went back to rebuilding. We couldn’t re-make the compound where it was, it didn’t feel right. Instead we turned it into a memorial for Tony, Steve- the Avengers and all those lost in those years.” Her legs dangled over the edge of the dock, her bare toes skimming the clear water.

“Instead we moved the next block over.” (y/n) stopped to laugh somewhat sadly.

“We rebuilt and brought in some new heroes. Johnny Storm’s a character, thats for sure, but his presence is somewhat relieving, calming even. For the life of me I cant figure out why.” The face of the spoken man entered her head before quickly fading away.

“Anyways, I can’t say it hasn’t been an interesting few years, little guy. I of course miss Steve and Tony like nothing else but we all knew what we were doing when we went into that war. It was all or nothing.” (y/n) looked across the water to spot the only other house in the area, a now slightly older girl running around the lawn as her mum chased her.

“I’m so proud of where we are. I couldn’t have been happier. We made sacrifices that left scars but if you had to ask me to do it again, I would. If it lead to here, I would choose the same every time.” Hearing a splash and loud protesting, (y/n) glanced over to see Sam laughing, holding a fishing rod as a very drenched Bucky stood out of the water, glaring.

(Y/N) giggled as she watched her husband and best friend trying to relax while not on a mission.

“Though he’ll never admit it, he’s still struggling a little without Steve. Bucky loved Stevie, its been ingrained in him from the moment they met. Side by side through day and night. But he’s getting there, slowly.” (Y/n) watched with slightly tired eyes as Bucky accepted his newly wet state and began to swim towards her.

“Ah, he’s come to release us from thinking too much.”

As he got within hearing distance, (y/n) playfully narrowed her eyes.

“Im not joining you, if thats what you were counting on.” (y/n) raised a teasing eyebrow as Bucky made it to the dock. Putting a hand on either side of her legs, he lifted himself out of the water and delivered a kiss right to her lips. As he drew back slightly, (y/n) followed and gave another.

Bucky’s heart still stutters at the sight and feel of her, even after all these years. Smiling widely up at the love of his life, he plants small kisses along her cheeks before ducking back into the water, splashing her slightly. Then he popped up and pulled himself to be sitting next to her, drenching her outfit slightly.

“Buck! You know how hard it is for me to stand let alone change; now I’m fat, slow AND drenched.” He let out a chuckle, allowing his hand to come to her stomach, where their future sat.

“You are not fat. Pregnant doesn’t count as fat.” Looking up at him (y/n) thanked to the gods for him and his gorgeous state. He was drenched and long dark hair was slightly hanging around his face, framing bright blue eyes that were looking at her stomach in wonder.

“Have you seen my feet? You could use them as boats at this stage.” Looking down a frown came to Bucky’s face as his eyebrows rose, trying to come up with something for her swollen feet.

“I uh, love boats?” He tried only to be pushed by (y/n) who was giggling.

“I think I know what we should call him.” She said suddenly, Bucky’s smile softening as he watched her look out at the water.

“George.” Bucky’s smile widened as his hand came back to rest on her stomach.

“After my dad? Thats nice. What about the middle name?” (Y/n) looked up at him through her lashes.

“I thought I would let you choose.” (y/n) rested her hand on his cheek gently while he struggled with the intense emotions from the moment. Bucky, while much better than he used to be, was still quite new to this life of playing house and often found himself getting choked up about it.

“How… how about, uh.” (Y/N) stoked his cheek as she watched him struggle and admired him all over again. She was patient as she watched his eyes dart around, watery eyes trying to keep the droplets from falling.

He was battling with himself and didn’t want to get it wrong.

“Steven.” Bucky suddenly, making (y/n) jump a little. Her eyes began to water slightly as she smiled. Looking back at where Sam was entering her and Bucky’s house, she tried to calm her own raging emotions. Turning her face back to the love of her life, she managed a sarcastic smile.

“After Captain America? The guy in the uniform?” Laughing slightly, Bucky shook his head and took her wrist in his hand before placing a kiss on her palm. Brining it back to his cheek, Bucky smiled once more.

“No, that little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight. Heard of him?”

“I might have heard it mentioned somewhere.” Bucky’s eyes show a spark of happiness as they laugh fondly together at the end of their dock.

Over the water, a one Pepper Potts watched the scene with both happiness and longing. Indeed it had been an interesting journey.

-------------------------------------

MASTERLIST

HERE LIES MY SOUL AFTER THIS AND IN MEMORIAM TO:

TAGS:

@saharzek @nerdyandexhausted @iamwarrenspeace @jahanana @asexualmarauder @theharrisontomytom @shippingfangurl @ironmanlover24 @come-with-me-and-imagine @alwayshave-faith @savmontreal @somebody-stuff @wildefire @geeksareunique @realgreglestrade @httpmcrvel @esoltis280 @kenzie-cold-greenkale @ldyhawkeye @fuckthatfeeling @fanderrawr @shaririii

#Endgame #spoilers #endgame spoilers #avengers #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #infinity war #avengers endgame #tony stark #imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes endgame

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thefightingbull · 4 years

Note

Hi! For the Jason Todd Christmas prompt, I'd like to request Omega verse, Jason Todd/Joey Willson. With pregnant Jay being all soft and cuddly on Christmas morning. Thank you!

The morning light was peaking through the blinds of their bedroom window. He would have stretched and probably even yawned, but his mate was nestled against him. He peeked down at the omega and smiled, enjoying the fact that despite how strong and powerful Jason was, the young man was trusting him entirely to keep their small pack safe.

Joseph “Joey” Wilson had never been so in love with someone in his life. The way Jason had taken blow after blow, both physically and psychologically through out the course of his existence was inspiring. He was pretty sure he’d fallen in love with the unusually muscular and broad shoulders omega the moment he’d taken the time to learn about him.

He and his father didn’t always get along, but when it came to Jason, they both agreed. He would be everything Joey could hope for in a lover, friend, mate, and mother to his pups. With a soft smile pressed his lips Jason’s forehead. The younger man had his head resting on Joey’s chest as he slept peacefully.

“You’re thinking very loudly,” Jason grumbled before giving in to a long, heavy yawn.

He chuckled softly and nuzzled his mate, running his fingers through the man’s thick black and white curls. Really, he should scent or groom him, but they were both quite comfortable in their positions and Joey really wanted to just spend the early morning hours contemplating how happy they were going to be.

Jason took the choice to lay in bed away from him when he finally pulled himself up to a sitting position. He started cracking knuckles or stretching limbs as he let out a satisfying groan that ended in a playful noise that had Joey’s inner beast rising.

“It’s Christmas morning,” Jason grinned at him, his pretty teal eyes sparkling happily. “That means you finally get to open the gift I got you!”

More out of habit than necessity, Joseph signed as he spoke. “I told you not to get my anything! We agreed.”

Jason rolled his eyes and smirked. “I never agreed to anything of the sort. I agreed that you shouldn’t get me a gift because our pups would be enough.”

Of course, Jason would figure out how to twist their conversations to work in his favor. It was alright though because he’d bought Jason a gift anyhow. It was their first Christmas together. Well, the first where there wasn’t violence or bloodshed. The first where family and friends weren’t going to interfere or cause problems. The first where they were finally settled and happily closed off from the rest of the world.

Jason being pregnant made their home off limits without invitation. Even control freaks like their fathers, or nosy brats like their siblings, knew better than to enter an omega’s den uninvited when a litter was expected. Just in case they weren’t smart enough to know that, he and Jason had done everything they could to build up their defenses and to make it clear to any and all who passed by their small condo that there was a pregnant omega within.

He watched as his mate wrapped himself up in his favorite blanket off their nest/bed. “Let’s go, I want to sit by the fireplace and relax in the nest I made in the living room.”

“So, demanding,” Joey grinned, but didn’t argue.

He followed after his mate, keeping a close eye on the way he moved. Not just because he loved Jason’s body, but because the paranoia his father had warned him about was starting to settle in. The man had insisted that things like Jason moving about the apartment would put him in a state of concern, possibly even panic. That Joey would fear him being hurt in the kitchen or slipping in the bathroom.

It was kind of nice that he’d been warned about it. Jason was touchy enough as it was. He didn’t like being vulnerable let alone feeling like it. If Joey had reacted on instinct alone, he might have angered and upset Jason. Doing so might have frightened Jason into hiding in either his own den or hiding with his older brother until the pups were born.

Jason sat carefully in the large nest of blankets, pillows, and even some of their clothes or coats. He’d arranged it on Thanksgiving Day; the same day they’d put up a Christmas tree and decorated it. Of all the things Joey had expected of his headstrong, cynical mate, being a big fan of Christmas and its traditions had not been one of them.

Joey moved to sit beside him but thought better of it as he his eyes moved to the kitchen. “What can I get you to eat? What are our pups in the mood for?”

Jason started to stand, but Joey narrowed his eyes and released soft, warning growl. “Oh, fine! I’ll let you ‘provide’ for me!” He sounded angry, but he saw the relief in Jason’s eyes. Mornings were still touchy for the omega when it came to moving around and getting sick.

“What would you like?” He smiled.

“Big glass of milk and peanut butter toast?” The big man in the nest asked hopefully.

Jason also hated being a burden on anyone. He was terrified that if he was too much of an issue, people would abandon him. He’d of course never said that aloud, but Joey and Dick had long conversations about it. He’d never abandon Jason, of that Joey had tried hard to prove, but his insecure mate struggled at times with such an unusual concept.

When he returned from the small kitchen with the requested breakfast, he found a very large box sitting in the nest beside Jason. It was certainly not a box that Joey had seen before. Where had his omega been hiding it?

“Thanks,” Jason smiled and took the cup and plate.

He started to pull away, when Jason grabbed hold of his arm and then leaned his head into the palm of his hand. Joey smile and sunk to his knees beside him and began to kiss Jason’s face, while letting his hands run through Jason’s hair and down his neck and shoulders. He dropped to his knees beside him and took advantage of his mate’s cuddly mood.

“I love you,” Joey whispered softly.

“I love you, too.” Jason smiled before he nipped gently at his chin. “Now please, open your gift!”

“Only if you eat,” he bargained.

Jason didn’t respond, but rather grabbed one of the pieces of toast off his plate and took a large bite. Feeling a bit better about the omega taking care of his daily needs, Joey decided to focus on the large rectangular box. He took his time opening it, mostly because it looked like Jason had taken his time wrapping it.

There was also the bonus that Jason looked impatient enough to rip it out of his hands and open it himself. He loved teasing his mate and he slowed down just to get under his skin a bit.

Finally, he’d revealed a plain cardboard box. “It’s lovely, Jason, just what I wanted!”

“Oh, shut up and open the box,” Jason snickered.

Doing as he was told, he pulled out a black, hard shell guitar case. He liked the guitar case, but he already had one. Actually, it was pretty much the same type and everything. He appreciated the thought and wondered if Jason’s feelings would be hurt that he already had one.

Catching on, Jason grinned. “It’s not the case, it’s what’s inside.”

Worried, he flipped the metal clasps and opened the case. His eyes widened in surprise at the elegant black, acoustic guitar. In silver ink was the signature of The Man in Black himself, Johnny Cash. He felt his eyes tear up at the sight.

“Jason,” he whispered and fought the emotion in his throat. “This is…”

“Everything my Alpha deserves,” Jason insisted. “I bought it for you months ago. Before we moved in and before the pregnancy.”

He gently set the bit of music memorabilia aside and pulled Jason into a long, passionate kiss. He didn’t even mind the taste of peanut butter. He wanted Jason to know how grateful he was the music icon’s bit of history. It would be proudly displayed in their den. In their home.

Jason laughed nervously as they finally parted and blushed. “I guess that means you like it?”

He nodded. “Yes, I do,” he laughed and signed. “I love it almost as much as I love you.”

Jason set aside his glass of milk and plate of toast and then crawled into his lap, his head resting comfortably into the nape of his neck and shoulder. He let the omega relax there for as long as he wanted. He leaned his back against the couch that the nest was placed against. It had been done strategically for when they watched tv or the fireplace.

“Thank you, Jason, I mean it,” he grinned.

The heat of Jason’s cheeks warmed his neck and he almost teased his omega about it. “Thank you, Joey,” Jason whispered. “You, these two pups, and this life are everything I ever wanted, even if I didn’t know it before.”

“Well, I have a gift for you, too,” he smiled. “But you have to let me go so I can grab it.”

“I don’t need a gift, just you,” Jason shook his head and tightened his hold a little.

Content as he was to stay that way, Joey insisted, and Jason finally relented. He got up and walked into their bedroom and took it out of the man sized safe he installed when they moved in. This one was his, Jason had one on the opposite side of the closet. Neither knew one another’s codes, not that either had tried to guess. They respected one another’s privacy.

He handed the long, kind of skinny box to Jason. It was a little heavy, but his mate barely noticed as he took it and began to unwrap it. His face was curious the entire time, however, the box gave away what was inside of it.

Jason grinned. “A Barret M82?”

He nodded. “It’s the best anti-material sniper rifle on the market.”

“Yeah I know! Pretty expensive, Joey!” Jason snapped, but the delight in his eyes told him that the omega was teasing and not at all offended. “We weren’t even supposed to buy gifts for each other this year.”

“I agreed that you didn’t have to get me a gift, I never agreed not to get you one,” Joey corrected.

Jason blinked and then shook his head. “Guess I’m gonna have to be a lot more careful in making deals with you in the future?”

“You should have already known that, Dear,” Joey smirked.

His mate nodded and smiled before cuddling back up against his side. He wrapped an arm around him and nuzzled close to Jason’s face. He’d never been so happy in his life and he was pretty sure that Jason felt the same way.

Warm, happy, expecting, and lost in their own little world.

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