#sam is obsessed with shuri | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vargskelegore · 1 year

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ik you got a million requests rn but the roommate hc was TOO GOOD!! imagine bringing a GUY back to the dorm without telling shuri (to get back at her LMAO). mamas is HEATEDDDDD

author’s note: see you ate with this fren.... i swear when i saw this i just KNEW i had to write about it. wrote this while listening to inhale by bryson tiller. also, the hbcu!shuri tag is now considered popular!!! thank y’all so much for getting me to this point :) as per usual, all of this is my original work and hbcu!shuri as a concept belongs to me. thank you!

inhale. - hbcu!shuri x black!fem!reader

warnings: a bit mature, implied sexual things, semi angsty???? a very annoyed shuri.

requests: closed for now! read about why here.

word count: 1,312 words!

another friday, another ‘time-to-get-this-day-over-with-so-you-can-hang-out-with-shuri.’ or was it? it had been a week since she brought a girl over to y’alls dorm without saying a word, and honestly, you felt like it was long overdue to get back at her.

other people would call this petty, but you called it-- well, you called it petty too, but you also called it ‘well deserved pettiness.’ shuri had apologized so many times since the incident, and you forgave her every time, but you needed her to see how much it bothered you when she did it.

there was no majorette practice today, so you decided to make your way to basketball practice to speak to a friend. a very special friend.

your earbuds loudly played the city girls- there sure as hell was sound bleeding, but you really didn’t care because they were your go-to’s for an anthem when you wanted to be petty.

‘don’t nun but this cash make this pussy talk..’

as you continued to make your way to the basketball court, your phone dinged. there was no doubt in your mind that it was shuri. you decided to ignore her for the time being. you took a long sigh, realizing that ignoring her would take a lot more effort than expected, but you still pursued.

you stopped at the door for the basketball court, looking down at the time on your phone, before looking up and opening the door. you looked around as you walked around, hands in your pockets as you looked for a friend.

you leaned on the side of the bleachers and waited for him to notice you. once he did, he raised his eyebrow at you and jogged over. “girl, what are you doing here? you don’t ever come to practice.” he questioned, crossing his arms.

“michael, i need to ask you a favor..”

“it can never be good when you’re asking me a favor.” he responded almost immediately, and it made you chuckle. “valid response.. just do this for me?”

“hook me up with either gina or marquise, then we can talk. i have no preference.” rolling your eyes, you sighed. “fine. we have a deal.”

michael smiled at those words. “bet. let me finish practice and we can talk afterwards.” you nodded in response as you sat down on the bleachers, crossing your legs and checking your phone, realizing that shuri was still texting you. a smirk curled onto your lips before you turned your phone off.

practice was over after thirty minutes, and michael walked over to you, bag across his shoulder. “alright, i’m ready, y/n.” you got up from the bleachers and led him out of the gym.

“so.. are you gonna tell me what this is all about, now?” he urged, following behind you. “i need your help in making someone jealous.” those words made him groan. “girl, you cannot be serious. who?”

“...so, y’know my roommate?”

“that lil gay girl?” his words made your jaw drop before you hit his arm. “michael! she’s got a name, y’know..”

“right, it’s shuri udaku. yeah, i know her. everyone does, she’s the princess of wakanda.” michael said in a blunt tone. “okay, well.. last week she brought this girl to our dorm and didn’t tell me.”

“who, jaz? because she’s been feening after shuri for a while.. like since she started attending the school.” that made you roll your eyes. “that’s her name?”

“yeah, her. i remember her from when she went to tryouts for the majorette team when you weren’t there and apparently she did awful.” a small scoff escaped michael’s lips.

“some girl she is.. anyways, i need you to-”

“pretend to be your new boy toy and bring me to the dorm unannounced? i’m not surprised. don’t she know you like girls, though?”

“i don’t know, we kissed a few times, and-”

“then girl, what the hell is the point of doing this? if you don’t take your ass to the dorm and tell her you love her! fuck is the point of beating around the bush, y’all both gay, just date.” michael rambled, placing a hand on his hip.

“it’s not that simple, i just.. i need her to see that what she did really hurt me.”

“this is the most toxic way of getting your point across, i hope you know that.”

“i’m gonna tell marquise that you don’t like dudes.”

“...just take me to the damn dorm.”

shuri sat on her bed anxiously. she had been checking her phone like crazy for the last hour because you hadn’t texted back. was there a party she wasn’t aware of? did you actually end up having practice? all of these thoughts suddenly went away once she heard the door unlocking.

she immediately looked up from her phone like a dog seeing a squirrel. she couldn’t even wait anymore, she bolted to the door and opened it with a wide smile.. only to be greeted by the sight of you.. and a very, very tall man. that had his hand on your waist.

she tried to contain how shocked she looked. in fact, her heart jumped out of her chest at the sight. she cleared her throat as she stood aside, holding the door open and watching you two walk inside.

“um.. hey, y/n. i thought we had plans-- why didn’t you text back?” her voice was quite nervy, and you just looked at her and tilted your head. “you texted? oh.. i didn’t see it, phone must’ve died.” you shrugged, setting your bag down.

her heart slightly dropped. she took a swallow before opening her mouth again. “and.. who is this? i don’t think i’ve met him before.” you could hint the bitterness in her voice, and it made your heart race.

“oh.. this is michael. he’s on the basketball team.” you giggled a bit as you looked up at michael with a smile.

“wassup, lil bro.”

now that just sent shuri over the damn edge. her hand was slowly balling up into a fist, but she tried to keep it cool. “hello, michael. i’m not sure if you’re.. aware, but y/n is occupied for the night, we actually had plans tonight, right y/n?” shuri looked back at you with a soft face, but you could tell it was angry as hell behind all of that.

“but, i-”

“no, no.. we planned yesterday, correct?” there was no way you could say no to her. that smile was practically forcing you to say yes.

“..yeah. i’m sorry, michael.” was all you could manage to say. it was all going to plan, yes, but you didn’t exactly plan the outcome.

michael, playing the perfect role of a straight man, smacked his teeth and stuck his hands in his pockets. “aight. it’s cool. text me when you get a chance, y/n.” he looked back at you as he got up and walked to the door.

“yeah, we’ll see if she manages to go through with that, she just brings around so many guys.” shuri lied, a small laugh escaping her lips as she looked back at you with a wink.

your heart fluttered slightly. shuri urged him out the door, and slammed the door shut before locking it as well.

the room was silent for a moment.

“michael, huh? a basketball player? i knew you were absolutely ridiculous.” she began to laugh as you got up and tried to walk over to your desk to avoid this conversation.

“no no no, you don’t get to do that.” she was quick to grab your arm and spin you around. she placed a hand on your waist as she looked down at you and smiled. “what’s wrong? cat got your tongue?” you felt more than one area on your body flutter, and you managed to let out a whimper.

“i’ll make you real audible soon enough.”

#sam answers asks #hbcu!shuri #hbcu!shuri x reader #black reader #shuri x reader #shuri udaku x reader #princess shuri #shuri #shuri udaku #sam is obsessed with shuri #lesbian #wlw #gxg

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vidavalor · 2 years

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I'm lowkey obsessed lately with the idea that Sam and Bucky are just off-screen in some of one another's individual canon appearances.

Sam comes home from The Avengers party in Age of Ultron and Bucky's on the couch, having cat burgled his way in again (he has a key), eating popcorn and watching his way through Sam's old movie collection. Makes Sam some toast and scrambled eggs while Sam showers and takes some introvert-decompression time. Bucky quickly became the person Sam didn't mind around during that, maybe since he was quiet and it never bothered him that Sam needed it. Too bad (then) that the guy that Sam is beginning to think he wants around all the time when he comes home is an international fugitive with a penchant for sneaking into his house every few months that Sam is pretending he hasn't found...

Sam in Wakanda, back with Shuri in the medical center while Ayo and the Dora were around Bucky in the woods on the night they broke the trigger word brainwashing. Bucky would have insisted no one was around him that he could kill and would have even been scared to have Ayo that close but even he could be convinced that the Dora collectively could take on The Winter Soldier if it didn't work. Ayo telling Sam after it was over and Sam walking up through the woods to come sit with Bucky by the fire. Bucky whispering that "it worked, Sam...", still a little disbelieving and overwhelmed with the relief of it and Sam says he knows. And if he's sitting this close to Bucky, it's because this log is short and if he's got an arm around him and if Bucky is leaning a little into him, well, it's just friend-like emotional support...

#sambucky #sambucky headcanon #sam wilson #bucky barnes #tfatws #marvel #captain america #winterfalcon #the winter soldier #the falcon #sam x bucky #mcu

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youngbugandtonystank · 3 years

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And now anti Tony people are blaming him for letting Sam’s family being in financial trouble wtf the man is dead! Let him rest!

Yeah, I saw.

They’re definitely going to keep doing that, gotta say, the MCU never failed with Tony's character, they created circumstances for him exactly just like Stan envisioned. The ‘love-to-hate’ trope is strong when it comes to him, this is what Stan wanted out of Tony Stark's relationship with his fans/audience. Thing is, the reality of the MCU superhero is that they’re all flawed. None of them are exempt from anything. Why Tony gets more hate than the others?

He’s the most popular character. There’s no discussion in this instance. Popular superheroes that first come to people’s minds are always Batman, Iron Man and Spider-Man. Tony Stark/Iron Man is a pop culture legend and the fact that RDJ got to portray him as great as he did, helped a lot. People are always going to circle back to the character who has more hype and audience.

He’s the one with the money. The fact that Tony is swimming in money automatically makes him the target of the ‘eat the rich’ mentality. People fail to remember that other characters such as T’Challa (who has more money than Tony would ever wish to see and lives in the most technologically advanced country in the world), Shuri, Thor (a literal king with a kingdom), The Pym family, Danny Rand (he has a net worth of $5 billion and is one of the richest comic book characters of all time), etc exist. And we still haven’t seen the other Marvel characters (in the MCU) that are richer than Tony like Reed Richards, Professor X, Warren Worthington, Norman Osborn, Namor, Doctor Doom, etc.

Even if some of us see RDJ as attractive and good looking, some people don’t. For them, RDJ is nothing compared to Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth, Sebastian Stan, etc. It’s easier to hate a character you don’t find attractive. And also the fact that they find those actors relatively younger than RDJ.

It’s the most shippable character. This also means he must be in the way of some other ships. Even if this sounds unbelievable, many people don’t get their irrational hate for a character until it dawns on them that they only hate him because he either treated one half of their ship unfairly or because he’s in the way of that ship. The more reasons they can find to hate him, the more legitimate their senseless hatred seems in their minds.

People don’t call out characters like T’Challa or Shuri because they’re scared of being called ‘racist’. T’Challa is so rich that Howard Stark could only buy (just an assumption, it’s a possibility he stole the vibranium lmao) only a portion of vibranium to build Steve’s shield, and because is the world’s most indestructible material, his worth is approximately $10,000 a gram (Fantastic Four #607) and Wakanda's vaults hold 10,000 tons of the material (Doomwar #1) T’Challa is not a billionaire, he’s a trillionaire lmaoooo everyone else is a joke compared to him.

Even having all of this info, Tony and T’Challa owe nothing to anyone.

T’Challa helped Bucky because of his principles (Tony offered to do this at the beginning as well until of course, he found out he killed his parents) but because of that, that doesn't mean T’Challa owes Steve, Sam, Wanda, and Natasha money or housing assistance. He didn't give it to them at all and he doesn’t have to.

James Rhodes: Well. You guys really look like crap. Must've been a rough couple of years.

Sam Wilson: Yeah, well, the hotels weren't exactly five star.

Wanna know why? Because T’Challa knows they’re adults and they make their own decisions. Sam chose to be on Steve’s side, Wanda did too, Natasha too, etc. Adults make decisions and they should deal with the consequences that come with that. Tony was not going to deal with their financial problems because they made a choice and it’s not his problem to deal with. Tony is not their father. People need to ask themselves why Sam was not in the ‘lift the hammer’ scene after the party, because he wasn’t familiar with them, he wasn’t friends with Tony, only with Steve. Besides that fact, they all fought Tony, hurt his best friend, and left him to deal with the rest in CW. They’re not family.

Sam Wilson: No, I'm not actually sorry. I'm just trying to sound tough. I'm very happy chasing cold leads on our missing persons case. Avenging is your world. Your world is crazy. Steve Rogers: Be it ever so humble. Sam Wilson: You find a place in Brooklyn yet? Steve Rogers: I don't think I can afford a place in Brooklyn. Sam Wilson: Well, home is home, you know?

There’s absolutely no reason Steve can’t afford a place. He’s an adult, he has a good reputation, he worked for shield (why aren’t yall on Nick Fury’s ass if he had Steve and the others as employees? Fury set an entire place for Clint, why can’t he do it for the rest of them, he is the founder of the Avengers after all), and was pretty much capable of doing stuff for others. Tony provided them with a home while they were working together, he doesn’t need to concern himself with their personal problems because they’re not actual friends. Rhodey is his friend. Happy is his friend. Also consider the fact that maybe Sam didn’t want his help?

And let’s also take into consideration that Tony is not only an Avenger, but Tony is also a businessman, an inventor, an engineer, has a company to keep an eye on, he is the one who finances the Avengers’ messes and other superhero messes too by co-owning the department of damage control, etc. He has other things to do. The rest of the Avengers are adults too, they should seek a job that could give them a future too, not just depend on Tony’s money. Tony had a family and he had to make sure they were covered after his death, this includes, Pepper (his wife, therefore she gets his stuff), Peter (his son, he left him EDITH, he’s basically set for life with that given the A.I. has access to the majority of his things including bank accounts), Morgan (his daughter; his responsibility), Happy and Rhodey (I’m sure we’ll see what he left them in Armor Wars). Why? They’re his actual family.

If some of you know this and you’re still looking for reasons to put the blame on him, you’re failing to recognize you’re obsessed with hating Tony just for the sake of being right. Wouldn’t you like a life where you don’t have to constantly look for reasons to hate on a fictional character, better yet, a character you don’t like at all. Why the effort? You can love Tony and Sam at the same time, I promise you, this is not going to kill you.

So please, instead of whining about Tony Stark all the time, why don’t yall just enjoy the fact that the show is showing you a vital and important event that happens in life while representing a part of Sam’s life to add to his emotional depth and character development? Especially because he’s a superhero and possibly the next Captain America, it’s good to see someone who is supposed to be a figure (superhero) whose actions or achievements are far greater than what people expect deal with normal things. They’re giving you a background; a solid storyline for his character. Let it be. Enjoy the shows yall, you can’t keep coming back to blame Tony for everything that happens after every single movie or Disney+ show, look for another metaphorical punching bag. The man is dead.

#tony stark #sam wilson #captain america #iron man #marvel #mcu #peter parker #irondad #pepper potts #james rhodes #happy hogan #steve rogers #tfatws #spoilers

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erinych · 2 years

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My Ideas as to Why “Hawkeye” Seems to Focus on Kate Bishop Rather Than Clint Barton

Point #1 — Clint Barton hasn’t been Hawkeye in years. The series title is more than likely a reference to Kate’s future as the hero, rather than Clint’s past under the alias.

It’s been almost eight years since Clint was officially known as Hawkeye. He retired back in 2016, before the events of Civil War, and was never recommissioned by any legal force after that. Yeah, he fought Tony Stark after the incident of the Sokovia Accords. Yeah, he became a vigilante after the Snap when he realized his family was gone. And, yeah, he took part in the Time Heist to bring back all the victims of the Blip. But guess what? He was never Hawkeye again. Clint Barton has put his old work as both assassins behind him.

Kate Bishop is an entirely different case. She idolized Clint Barton for ALL of his work, to the point she wanted to be just like him. She put work into studying whatever she could, became obsessed with archery, and damn good with a bow and arrow, and even took the time to create a nearly exact replica of his suit. Despite her mimicking of Ronin, though, it seems she hasn’t let go of Hawkeye. Her first words to Clint where an awestruck “You’re Hawkeye,” and she asked him to sign her bow because he was her “favorite Avenger.” My theory is that she believes the morals he held, similar to her own, could help their global situation.

Phase 4 is meant to focus on the Avengers’ legacies, and the effects they had on the Post-Blip world. Not the Avengers themselves.

Phase 3 is over, and that’s something that an unfortunate amount of the fandom needs to collectively come to understand. Of course, I’m not telling anyone to forget the Original Six. That kind of defeats the purpose of Phase 4. You can’t introduce the next generation of the Coalition without remembering who started it. I mean, even the Avengers themselves are a story of Carol Danvers’s influence on Nich Fury.

Falcon and the Winter Soldier gives Sam Wilson the name Captain America. Iron Man’s influence has left options to bring the Iron Heroes to life (currently consisting of Pepper Potts, James Rhodes and Peter Parker, may invite Harley Keener and Morgan Stark, and has potential to introduce Riri Williams and Nathaniel Richards). Black Widow brought forth Natasha’s younger sister, Yelena, who was last seen looking for revenge for her sister’s death. Hulk is already planned to introduce She-Hulk, has made mentions of Abomination, and holds the potential to bring to life Hulking and the Amazing Hulk. Valkyrie and Jane Foster have already seen action because of Thor.

There’s so many other characters, too. Shuri’s potential to become the next Black Panther. Billy and Tommy’s powers, gained from their mother. Shang-Chi becoming a defender of magic and working with Dr Strange and Wong. Cassie taking on Scott and Hope’s work as heroes. The Eternals’ potential within the MCU.

The series hasn’t even ended yet.

We have no idea why the series is actually named Hawkeye. Yeah, it’s probably because we have the previous Hawkeye and the Hawkeye candidate on screen together, but we don’t know the plan for it yet. Maybe Kate will hold the title as Hawkeye by the end of it. Maybe she’ll pull Clint out of retirement to become Hawkeye, or even Ronin, again. For all we know, it could be both or neither.

Either way, we need to wait for the series to end before we can say anything about it at all, and the people shitting on Hailee Steinfeld really need to stop. She was Kevin Feige’s first choice, and is literally following a script made by Marvel producers themselves. They know what they’re doing, you just have to give it time and go with the flow.

Kapeesh?

You have no other choice, just agree. This is a threat.

#hawkeye #kate bishop #ronin #clint barton #disney+#jeremy renner #hailee steinfeld #mcu #marvel #marvels hawkeye

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weasleywinchester · 3 years

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The Way You Look Tonight - Chapter 2

Mr. Sandman

Chapter 1

Bucky Barnes X female reader

Allllrightttyyy fam, we're back with chapter 2! Which is pretty much as far as I've gotten with this day dream fic. This takes place ep.3/4 of TFATWS and this chapter starts immediately where the last chapter ends. ALSO we get a little hot steamy flash back scene y'all

Warnings: Nervous/ Angry/ Sexy Bucky, Zemo being sweet and sexy, Smut (because I have no self control) which includes: nipple play, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (always use protection you AND your partner have consented to), P in V sex, fingering, and random hook-up with a stranger (again, be careful irl).

Series Summary:

You’re obsessed with anything superhero (I mean all the best people are right?) Stark Industries, what better job could you ever have? And then becoming friends with the Avengers? Hot Damn, how was this your life? What you expected was to silently crush on one all of them until you died; what you got was an unexpected romance with one James Buchanan Barnes.

Chapter Summary:

Bucky and you, you and Bucky... it's how it should be, just ask Sam. But with the Assistant Director of the Department of Defense AND John Walker thinking they can outsmart you when it comes to your boys, they are mistaken. You'll do whatever it takes to help your friends make a better world, but will a silly one night stand break Bucky's trust in you?

“Not how I saw this trip going.” You muse out loud. You, Sam and Bucky are walking along the street, to nowhere in particular for the moment.

“Isn’t this how every trip goes?” Sam chuckles. You nod in agreement, your knuckles grazing with Bucky’s as you walk by his side. You’re not sure where you stand, but the fact you can’t freely lace your fingers through his kills you a little bit.

“We should probably get home. Figure out our next move.” Sam says over his shoulder. You nod, not hearing what he actually said.

“We should… we should talk.” Bucky says quietly, taking your hand in his.

“Ok.” You smile, your heart leaping at his touch.

Sam smiles too, glad Bucky wants to talk to you, and that you haven’t killed either of them.

“Sam, call this number. Tell Assistant Director Spencer we need a ride, and I need to talk to him.” He takes the phone and walks a head again, putting a little distance between him and the pair of you. You stay quiet, walking in comfortable silence with Bucky until Sam starts talking on the phone.

“Has it helped? The therapy?” You start, sneaking a glance at him.

He contemplates it; it wasn’t that he had a choice to go or not. It was the only way the world could move on from the Winter Soldier, the only way he could be forgiven. Helping the people he hurt did ease the pressure a little, let the world stop looking at him like an animal. But that wasn’t the hard part; the idea of forgiving himself… that he wasn’t ready for.

“Ya.” is all he’s able to give you, his hand gently squeezing yours.

“Good.” You squeeze back.

“Was there someone...” He grasps for the courage to finish asking, although he’s not sure he wants the answer.

“Pepper managed to shove me into a Stark Industries single mixer once. He flirted, I even let him kiss me. But he wasn’t you.” You confess. Bucky nods, glad Pepper succeeded at least once.

“Anyone for you?”

“A person on my list insisted I go out. She was nice but...” He stops walking, spinning you to face him. “(Y/N). I’m not a good man,” He holds up a hand to stop your protest. “Yet. There’s just a big mess up here, and you and Shuri and the Dora Milaje helped with the biggest knot in the string. And now I gotta do the rest of them.”

“And I will be there when you need me.” You smile, taking his other hand in yours.

“I can’t ask that of you.” He states, his eyes searching yours. He wants to ask that of you, to beg you to stay by his side; but he wants to offer you an easy way out too.

“You don’t have to.” You put his hands on your waist, and bring your own to rest on his strong chest. “You weren’t, and never will be, a burden or a charity case Bucky. I’m with you to the end of the line.” you whisper.

You’ve been telling him that since you met, the same amount of love in your eyes, the same kindness in your smile. The only difference now is that he can gently put his lips to yours.

“Oh thank the Lord above!” Sam shouts from the street corner, his hands wide to the sky as he dances around.

“Guess we’ll always have one person cheering for us.” You laugh against Bucky’s lips. You steal one more kiss before turning around and running to Sam with your arms raised in victory.

_______

“Miss (Y/L/N), very nice to see you again.” Assistant Director Spencer smiles, taking a big gulp of his coffee.

“Is it?” You ask, walking around him and sitting in his big fancy office chair. You glance at the clock, it says it’s 4:30 am. You made good time on your flight back.

“Guess that depends on whose story I believe.” He turns around and sits in the chair across from you. “Captain America wasn’t pleased with the results of the mission.”

“Are you alluding to the fact that Sam Wilson and James Barnes have decided against working for the government? Because that shouldn’t surprise anyone.” You grin.

“He says that it was because your intentions for the mission were, misleading.” He takes another sip of coffee. You raise your eyebrows at him, he may like Walker but he’s not a fool. “I enjoyed the chat with Mr. Wilson. Too bad he didn’t want to share more.”

You hum in agreement. You know that there’s a very good chance Dr. Raynor called and asked why Bucky’s therapy was being paused, especially since he and Sam did a session together. And then there’s you, a lover, you bet she can’t wait to help him unpack all that emotional baggage.

“(Y/N), is it alright I call you (Y/N)? The U.S. Government sent you with Captain America to find information.”

“Why was I dragged into this office for a mission and not when anyone found out Bucky came back from The Blip.” You interrupt. He blinks a few times, draining the last of his coffee and setting the cup on the desk.

“We figured it would be easier coming from your friends. We also figured you would have been at Tony Stark’s funeral-”

“I was! Us being in the same vicinity a handful of times doesn’t replace official government notice.” You slam your fist down on the desk. He takes a deep breath, leaning his elbows on the table to match your position.

“You’re the fail safe. With Barnes, and Rodgers for that matter. But you don’t work for the government. And from your pro Captain America Stance, didn’t seem like you ever wanted to. So, we get you on this mission, get your name stamped next to Barnes’s, and boom, a contract from the government that you eagerly agreed to.”

“Didn’t give you much information though.”

“It gave enough. Simple proof that Captain America needs clearance to solve the problem before unauthorized avengers do.” He leans back in his chair, like a man who just outsmarted his opponent. You nod, getting up from the chair and walking to the door.

“A warning Assistant Director.” You look over your shoulder, but he doesn’t move. “John Walker has a lot of decisions to make, and I don’t think he’ll make the right ones. Maybe I’ll be wrong.”

_______

“It's kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” Zemo grins, elated at the potential of seeing the Winter Soldier in action again.

Bucky stands, walking to the back of the plane and locking himself in the bathroom. Before he has the chance to think, your voice is coming through his phone.

“Hey, how’s the job?” You ask. Your voice is like a beacon, letting his mind come back to a place of peace. He imagines you’re sitting at your desk, probably reorganizing it for the third time this week. He can hear you open and close drawers, shuffle papers.

“I have to… to be it again.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“To be...”

“The Winter Soldier.” He swallows the lump in his throat. He’s gotten so used to stuffing everything down, but he can’t slip back into that.

“Am I allowed to know why?” You ask, voice unwavering in the face of the unknown.

“Madripoor.”

Fuck. That means he and Sam are scraping the bottom of the barrel. You stop the project you’re working on and start stuffing travel necessities into a back pack.

“Doll, you still there?” He’s heart begins to race. What if this is where-

“Stay vigilant. You can’t afford to miss a single detail; or give one away. Don’t let yourself fall back on anything. Think about it for what it is: an act of how you were a long time ago. Something that starts and ends within twenty four hours.” You say gently, trying to keep any panic out of your voice.

He nods, you’re right. He’s pretending. A role that he knows inside and out, but at the end of the day, one he can leave behind.

“How are you even getting to Madripoor?” You pause the packing, it’s not like any of you have a private plan.

“Zemo.” Bucky reluctantly answers.

“Isn’t he in jail?”

“He was...”

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. Don’t be angry, he… knows what he’s doing? And Sam is there, so it’ll be fine.

“(Y/N)?”

“Be careful. And think ahead please. Last thing I want is to have to fight to get your body back to the States.”

“Will do.” He smiles.

“I love you.” You sigh as he hangs up.

“Love you.” he whispers into the emptiness.

_______

You quickly zip your packed bag and call a car to take you to the airport. Luckily Pepper still owns a few planes that are not Stark Industries branded. You’re making sure work is settled and ignoring all texts from John and Lemar when an “unknown number” calls. This should be fun.

“Yes?” You answer.

“Oh good, I caught you.” A woman says on the other end.

“Sharon?” You guess.

“Could always recognize voices, even if you haven’t heard them in a few years.” She laughs.

“I wasn’t even sure if you were still alive.” You comment, instantly regretting it.

“I am, and in Madripoor. I’m guessing you’re on your way?” When you don’t answer she continues. “There will be a car to pick you up. It’ll take you to my place.”

“What made you think I would come?”

“You’re always the right distance away.” She answers, hanging up.

The flight was fast, thanks to Tony’s private plane and the long nap you took. If you had flown commercial you’d be barely leaving the states. As Sharon instructed there was a car waiting for you. What you didn’t expect was to be going to Lowtown. The car dropped you at what seemed to be a warehouse and she was waiting for you at the curb.

“Good to see you (Y/N).” She gives you a hug.

“You too. So what’s on the agenda?” You wrap an arm around her waist and she leads you inside. She gives you a brief overview of what the boys got up to earlier.

“So enjoy the party, maybe you’ll meet Zemo.” She says through the bathroom door.

“Sharon, this is the least amount of dress I’ve ever worn.” You look at yourself in the mirror. She handed you a dress, heels and heat rollers as soon as you stepped foot into her place.

“Well you have to blend in...” She smirks from the doorway. She chose a very short, silk flared dress that if you even had the thought to lean forward your ass would be out. The color could only be described as Captain America blue, both yours and Bucky’s favorite. The straps were as thin as angel hair pasta, so no bra. But damn did you look hot as fuck.

“Do you want these?” She holds out two nipple pasties for you.

“I have the smallest pair of underwear on, so might as well let my nipples enjoy the silk.” You laugh, taking the rollers out of your hair. “How did you even find this? I can never even find anything half as sexy for my size in the States.”

“Madripoor offers a lot of things from a lot of places.” She fixes your straps, smiling at you in the mirror. “The boys are downstairs.” She gestures for you to follow her.

The music is so loud you can’t hear yourself think. A few people turn to you, eyes devouring your body as you worm your way through the crowd. Your eyes instantly snap to his broad shoulders covered by his signature leather jacket. You shove his shoulder so he spins to face you.

“Well don’t you look good enough to eat.” You growl, grabbing a fist full of his black shirt to pull him down to your level, which in these heels isn’t as far as normal. He frowns at the intrusion until he realizes it’s you.

“Hey doll.” He smiles, his eyes traveling down to your chest, your nipples poking through the thin fabric. You hook a finger under his chin, tilting his gaze back to your face. You gesture to one of the doors at the side of the room, his smirk widening as he lets you drag him into the empty hallway.

“Talk about a party.” you giggle, turning around to face Bucky.

His eyes are hungrily traveling over every inch of your body, blood rushing out of his brain the more he tries to decide what his favorite part of the dress is.

“Did you want to talk...” You innocently suggest, looking up through your thick lashes. His eyes finally make it back to your face and he shakes his head no, stalking toward you, flinging his gloves off as he reaches for your hips, roughly walking you into a little alcove in the corner.

His lips find yours in a searing kiss that makes you dizzy with the sudden flood of adrenaline. He slides his hands down your ass, kneading it until you softly moan against his mouth, his tongue quickly finding yours to tangle with.

You release your grasp from his shoulders, sliding your hand between your bodies to palm him through his jeans. His mouth falls away from yours, his forehead resting in the curve of your neck as he lets out a desperate groan, grinding into your touch. His lips reach for any patch of skin, sucking and licking and biting until he feels your body tremble against his.

“Missed this, missed us.” He moans, bending his knees to gently lift you, guiding your legs to grip around his waist.

“Buck- “

He pushes himself flush against you, one of your straps falling off your shoulder. He resist the urge to roll his hips into you, opting to hike you up a bit further so your tits sit right at face level. Gently taking the edge of your dress between his teeth, moving it to reveal your hardened bud and eagerly taking it into his mouth, sucking and licking just the way you like. You moan to the ceiling, fingers threading into Bucky’s hair in an attempt to hold for dear life.

“Other side darlin’” he whispers against your sternum. You quickly shimmy the strap off your shoulder, very thankful you passed on the pasties.

“Bucky, need you.” you moan, your hips rocking against his abs. You need friction, and you need it now. He reluctantly lets your nipple go, letting you settle back to his hips. He rolls against you, the strain in his jeans almost unbearable as you dig your fingers into his shoulders.

“Baby… please.” He begs, holding you far enough away that you can reach down and release him. You hand grips his length, automatically sliding back and forth. He almost drops you at the sensation, he’s played memories like this over and over in his head, but damn.

His fingers move off your ass, searching for your underwear but all he can find is a string.

“Rip them.” you whine. And with one swift movement you feel the strings of your thong break and his length slide right into you. You both moan as Bucky readjusts his grip.

“Please” you breathe, and that’s all he needs to build his pace. And it feels like everything is on fire, all so overwhelming, the squelching noise coming from your soaked pussy, the way his fingers dig into your thighs, the way your pretty tits bounce as he pounds you into the wall.

And then your thighs push him hard against you, and he looks up to see your blissed out face as you pulse around him. Your mouth open in pure ecstasy as he finishes inside you. His head comes to rest in the crook of your neck, watching you chest fall and rise as you come down from your high.

He feels your legs go slack, knowing you're ready to be put down. He gives each nipple a kiss before gently pulling out of you, and slowly putting your legs down.

You lean against the wall, eyes still closed and breathing almost back to normal. He burns this image of you into his mind; blissed out, tits out and a slow dribble of your shared cum on your inner thighs. You take a breath in, tucking your boobs back into your dress and reaching for the bandanna Bucky keeps in his pocket. You gently wipe him clean, tuck him back into his jeans and then clean yourself off.

“A memento.” You tuck the bandana in his back pocket as he retrieves his gloves from the floor.

“Don’t worry, that memory will be put in the rotation with the others.” He smirks, giving you a quick kiss.

“So how did the meeting go?” You ask.

“Not how we planned. But we did manage to find out where the lab is. So we’ll be dealing with that tomorrow.” He cups your chin, his fingers lightly skimming over your perfectly swollen lips.

“Do you want me to stay.” You whisper, your hands wrapping around his waist.

“Always. But I think you should go ahead of us. I’ll have Zemo give me an address. We’ll meet you there.”

“We could just take the same plane.” You shake your head.

“If it were up to me you would never meet Zemo.”

_______

The Smithsonian, Washington D.C.

10 Years ago

“Welcome to the newest exhibit at the world famous Smithsonian! We hope you enjoy learning about the War Hero Group: The Howling Commandos! Don’t forget to...”

You smile at the announcement you’ve heard a hundred times already. You’ve spent every day in this exhibit; reading every plaque, watching every film reel and talking to every tour guide. You had managed to win a ticket to the opening gala, and the press week that came before it. Most of the people you talked to were fans of Cap, but not necessarily the history that came before or after him. After talking about the newspaper comics for hours on end you decided to just stop talking to people; it was always the same conversations, the same points of view.

You had decided to do something you hadn’t done in ages: draw. Here in the exhibit you felt so inspired seeing uniforms, old vehicles and the world's largest collection of Project Rebirth information. You enjoyed drawing everyone from this exhibit, but James Buchanan Barnes always captured your attention. You always admired the strength he had to keep fighting, even after he had been tortured by Hydra.

You had been sitting in one of the theater rooms that showed news reels for the last hour, always waiting for the one that showed Bucky and Steve smiling. As it appeared your pencil would move as quickly as possible to catch a new set of details. And when it was over you let your mind wander, and your eyes unfocus.

“It’s a beautiful drawing.” A voice behind you compliments, making you jump, your pencil clinking to the floor.

“My apologies, let me get that for you.” He kneels to grab the pencil, holding it out for you, a small smile on his face; his brown eyes twinkling even in the dark.

“Thanks. Most of the time no one notices.” You laugh. He chuckles, his accent present even in his laugh.

“I notice a lot. May I join you?” He gestures to the seat next to you. You nod, moving you bag to the other side of you.

“Fan of Mr. Barnes?” He nods to your drawing.

“Ya. He and Steve are very interesting. Although I think I know everything about them already.” You laugh.

“Is that so?” the stranger smiles, putting his arm along the back of your seat and turning his body to fully face you. You shrug, smiling back. “Maybe we could chat over dinner?”

“I don’t even know your name.” You laugh.

“Helmut.” He holds his hand out to you.

“(Y/N).” You place your hand in his.

_______

“Waiter, a bottle of your finest...” Helmut turns to you.

“Champagne?” You shrug. Helmet whispers something to the waiter, who bows and scurries to retrieve the bottle. “I can’t afford the finest anything, Helmut. I literally won my ticket into this event.” you add.

“I certainly can. My treat for the intriguing conversation.” He grins, his eyes gently raking over your body. You try not to squirm, it’s not that he in particular is looking at you, but just the fact that he’s looking. Normally men don’t react to you like he is.

You go to tell him you’ve enjoyed the night when the waiter comes over with two glasses and a bottle of Sokovian Bubbly.

“To you Princezná. A woman of many talents.” He holds his glass out to you, waiting for you to clink his; but you can’t move. No romantic partner has called you by anything other than your name.

He watches you for a brief moment, your reaction to the pet name adorable. You’re so young and kind, he can’t afford to remember your name, for your own safety. He shakes the thoughts, gently clinking his glass to yours.

“Thank you.” You smile, downing the whole glass, the bubbles oddly calming your nerves. He downs his, refilling both your glasses.

And the night doesn’t seem to end. You talk through every detail the other knows about Project Rebirth, deep diving into things that don’t line up, celebrating when the stories are the same. He even asks you to dance, sweeping you around the floor like a professional (which is impressive because you’re not a trained dancer in any way and you’re tipsy.) After much dancing and another bottle of bubbly, he offers to let you freshen up in his hotel suite above the restaurant.

“After you.” He gestures as the doors to a private elevator open. He pushes the button for the penthouse, coming to stand by you.

“I had a wonderful time.” You smile, your eyes lazily focusing on his face.

“As did I.” He turns to you, one hand gripping the rail behind you, the other finding purchase on your waist. Your makeup has smudged a little, but your eyes still sparkle with joy, your perfume making him drunk with lust. Your heart flutters as his lips hover over yours, your left hand gripping his bicep to bring him closer. When his lips meld against yours a warmth shoots through you, making you desperate for more.

He gently pulls at your bottom lip, eliciting the perfect little gasp that grants him entrance to your mouth. It feels like the air has been stolen from your lungs, and if you died from this kiss you would be ok with that. He guides your leg to settle around his waist, gently pushing your gown up your thigh. And when he gently rolls his hips into you, you break the kiss, desperate to fill your lungs with air. His lips move the column of your neck, sucking, licking and biting until a deep moan pushes its way up your throat.

“Tell me if you want to stop.” He whispers, stopping his actions until you give him a breathy yes. He returns to his ministrations with his mouth, and then you feel one of his nimble fingers run along the edge of your underwear. You instinctively roll your hips, your pussy fitting perfectly into the palm of his hand.

He chuckles at your neediness, letting out a low growl against your neck as he drags a finger through your dripping cunt; all he’s done is kiss you and you’re ready to fall apart. He gently toys with your clit, trying different patterns until he finds the one that makes your nails dig into his shoulders. He smiles against your skin now damp from the rising temperature of the elevator. He moves his finger from your clit, gently shushing you when you let out a small whine.

“Patience Princezná.” He whispers, pushing one long finger inside you, quickly followed by another. He bends and curls and presses along your walls, reaching a new spot that makes you almost collapse. He keeps a steady pace concentrated there, his thumb coming up to play with your clit and his mouth sliding against yours.

It’s all too much, you feel like you’re on fire or that you’re going to explode to pieces. A wave of heat pulses from your center, your ears ringing with the intense rush. Helmut watches that pretty little mouth of yours fall open, a silent scream as you pulse around his fingers.

The elevator dings, finally arriving at his room. He slowly pulls his fingers from you, licking them clean so he can guide you inside without staining your dress.

You quickly fix your makeup, staring at the reflection of the girl in the mirror. She’s strong, sexy and there’s a look of mischief in her eye. For a moment you forget it’s you.

“Helmut?” You call from the bathroom. You click down the hall, peering into the dark sitting room, listening for any sound.

“Here Princezná.” He walks out from the kitchen, two glasses of water in hand. He watches you take the glass, gulping it down in one swig. You are beautiful. But after everything last year… you’re only a distraction. You could never hold his heart, it died with his family.

“Princezná,” He whispers, gently picking up your hand. His eyes search your face, but no words come out. But you understand, this was a moment of passion.

“May we meet again.” You smile. He nods, pecking you on the cheek and sending you back down the elevator.

_______

Riga, Latvia

Present Day

“Helmut?” You frown as a familiar blonde man walks in with Sam and Bucky.

“Princezná” He smiles, striding over to you, immediately kissing your cheek.

“What are you doing here?” You smile at him, cupping his face in your hands. He looks exactly the same as the last time you saw him, that mischievous sparkle still in his eye as he smiles.

You turn to your friends, wondering how they could all know each other. The look on Bucky’s face is enough to immediately wipe the smile off yours. He looks appalled that you have any connection with Helmut. You glance at Sam, silently asking what’s Bucky’s problem but his eyebrows have seemed to have flown off his face.

“What?” You ask, stepping out of Helmut’s grip. The silence hangs between the four of you. You can practically hear the dialup noises coming out of Bucky’s ears, surprised he hasn’t lashed out. Helmut on the other hand wraps his arm around your waist, leaning his head against yours.

“Almost as fun as the last time we met Princezná.” He whispers in your ear.

“You know Zemo?” Bucky shouts, his fist clenching as tight as they go.

“Oh, very well.” Zemo mumbles into your hair, his silky voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“Zemo? Like...” You try to focus as he gently presses each finger into your side, a wave of goosebumps spreading over your skin.

“Hydra obsessed, used me as the Winter soldier, Zemo? Ya that guy.” Bucky growls, flexing his jaw.

“Princezná, am I your dirty little secret?” Helmut grins, his nose gently tracing your neck and eyes dancing with mischief as he looks over at Bucky.

“Can I talk to you?” Bucky glares, doing his best to ignore Zemo.

“Whiskey, on the rocks Helmut, make it a double.” You whisper as you follow Bucky into one of the bedrooms.

“What the hell?” He pins you to the door, clicking it shut. You glare at his arms, and then at him. He realizes he’s jumping all over you, boxing you in; and you hate that. It was one of the very few things you asked him not to do. He closes his eyes, inhales and takes a step back. You wait to see if he says anything. But he just threads his hands into his hair, taking another deep breath.

“I didn’t know who he was when we met.” You begin. He huffs in disbelief, shaking his head. “It was before I even met you!” You throw your hands in the air.

“Did you sleep with him?” Bucky demands. You two may not have been together but he doesn’t understand how you could be tricked by fuckin Zemo.

“No… well...” You mumble. Bucky rolls his eyes, turning in a circle. “I never even got his last name! Hell Bucky, we talked about you. It was so nice to talk with someone that had almost the same amount of knowledge about Project Rebirth and I knew things he didn’t, he knew things I didn’t” You can feel yourself sinking lower into the hole you are digging for yourself, might as well bury your own body. “He flirted, I flirted. He asked me to dinner, and then drinks…”

Bucky turns enough that you can see his profile, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he mulls over this information. Why couldn’t you have picked a different Avenger to obsess over? Why did it have to be Steve? And subsequently him? She helped the Dora Milaje, without her you wouldn’t believe that you could ever be a decent man, let alone a good one. He repeats in his head. But Zemo? Out of all people. He finally turns to face you, he understands Zemo’s attraction to you, anyone who says different is just a damn fool.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You grit through your teeth.

“Like what?” He shrugs.

“Like I’m an idiot.” Now it’s your turn to clench your fists. He scoffs, shaking his head. “I’m not exactly the girl who gets attention from handsome men on a regular basis. I liked the attention. I liked being desired. I liked that we talked all night. I will not apologize for liking the way he made me feel, for letting myself act on a whim.” You cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the door.

He just stares, dumbfounded. He doesn’t blame you for wanting those things, just being dumb enough to not see you already have them. You turn heads with your confidence, the way you take control of a room, the way you ask questions that everyone else is too scared to, the way you jump into action when people need you. Guys just know to keep it to themselves because they would get their ass kicked otherwise.

“Does he still make you feel that way?” Bucky whispers. He looks up at you, your shoulders slumping as you stride over to him.

“Bucky, it was one evening several years ago. It was a little bit of fun, no feelings. The only person I’m in love with is you.” You place your hands on his chest. Bucky holds your whole heart, and you know that scares him sometimes, especially when his own mind was used against him for so long.

He gently engulfs your hands in his own, leaning his forehead against yours. You are the most beautiful woman to walk the planet and for some strange reason you chose him. You’ve seen him through a lot, seen him at his lowest, and yet, you stand by him. You’re his north star, the pair of eyes he could quickly pick out in any crowd, your voice better than any song, and your heart more pure than even Steve’s. He’ll always be yours, and he must remember that you’ll always be his.

_______

Sam had come up with the idea that there might be a funeral service for Donya. You would be surprised if there wasn’t; Karli seems like she would prize family and community above everything, even her mighty cause.

You had found out where the local displacement center was, showing Zemo on the map. He had recognized it, taking the three of you there.

“Shame what's become of this place. When I was young, we used to come here for fabulous dinners and parties. I knew nothing of the politics of the time, of course, but I remember it being beautiful.” Zemo comments, looking around the old buildings. Most look like they had been stripped of their beauty; jewels missing out of statues, walls graffitied, and windows broken.

“I'm gonna take a look around upstairs. See what you can find out here. And keep an eye on him.” Sam looks between you and Bucky. You both nod, watching him jog up the stairs.

“I'll stay out of your way.” Zemo directs at Bucky, holding his hands up in surrender. Bucky frowns but doesn't say anything.

“Princezná.” Zemo smiles, holding his arm out for you. You see Bucky stiffen as you place your hand on Zemo’s elbow, but if you want to learn more about this man you have to play the part he expects.

“The Winter Soldier doesn’t seem any less angry about us.” Zemo comments, walking you towards the group of kids playing in the courtyard.

“He’s not angry about us, just about you.” You say through your teeth as you smile at one of the smaller kids. Zemo matches your smile, taking a deep breath in as you pass under the stone archway.

“♪ Baa, Baa, black sheep, have you any wool? Yes, sir, yes, sir, three bags full; One for my master, one for the dame; One for the little girl who lives down the lane.♪” he kneels, throwing a bag of candy on the table in front of the kids. “Turkish delight. It was always my son's favorite.” He comments.

Your breath catches in your throat; you didn’t know Zemo had a son. You figured he lost a lover after your night together went no further than the elevator, but to lose your whole family…

“My old friend, Donya, passed away. Did you know her?” He asks one of the older girls.

“Yes.” She nods, her eyes flicking from the candy to his face.

“I would like to pay my last respects. Do you know where her funeral will be?” He holds a candy out to her, giving her a kind smile. She nods, and whispers in his ear. He whispers back, gesturing to Bucky and Sam as he tells her something. You turn to look at them, Bucky’s classic scowl clear even from across the courtyard.

“But this lovely woman here, she can always be trusted.” He kisses your hand, winking at the kids. They giggle as they dig into the bag of candy. He places your hand back in the crook of his arm, walking you over to Bucky.

“Cute kids.” He smiles, walking in between Bucky and Sam.

You share a look with Bucky, thankful he understood and relaxed his shoulders a fraction. You four walk in silence, the crunch of gravel mixing with the distant noises of people living their lives.

“Princezná …” Zemo whispers, surprised by your silence this whole trip.

“Were you trying to forget the pain, or at least numb it for the night.” You state. He takes a deep breath in, conflicted just as before.

“I let the grief consume me." He begins, he has nothing left anyways, "And then I met you. You pulled my focus back to my mission. A silly American girl gave me more information about the Winter Soldier than any scholar. You deserved to be rewarded.”

You roll your eyes, who would have thought Steve and Bucky would be getting you in trouble before you even met them.

“I’m sorry for the loss of your family. And your country.” You stop walking, bringing his face to look at you. He nods, his eyes not quite meeting yours. "But you choose this path, and it's one I can't bring you back from."

"Princezná." He gives you a small smile as Bucky and Sam catch up to you. He nods to Bucky, removing your hand from his shoulder and walking a head of you.

#bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky imagine #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x you #bucky barnes x y/n #TFATWS #sam wilson #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #zemo x reader #zemo x plus size reader #john walker #lemar hoskins

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dirtyhelen · 3 years

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with you, a girl could get bolder (i just wanna be a little bit closer) - part one

PART ONE: can you feel it? (Series Masterlist) Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Rating: Explicit (18+) Featuring: Smut; Angst; Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiacs; Dubious Consent; Loss of Virginity; First Time; Vaginal Sex; Cunnilingus; Creampie; Dirty Talk Words: 5484 Summary: For a single moment there is absolute silence as you and Bucky stare down at the broken glass and the silvery mist rising from it with shocking speed and volume. “Oh, fuck.” You and Bucky get hit with an extremely powerful aphrodisiac, resulting in some mind-blowing (but dubiously consensual) sex on a quinjet. And if sleeping with a coworker in a drug-fueled haze wasn’t bad enough, you’ve also had an unrequited crush on him for months. A/N: My first multi-chapter fic! My first attempt at something resembling a plot! There will be 3 parts, about 15k total. Titles are from Want You In My Room by Carly Rae Jepsen. Part 2 will be out next week!

________________________________________________________________

“Thanks, Steve,” you say as he sets your bag in one of the quinjet’s storage compartments. Ever the gentleman, he’d insisted on carrying your luggage for you, since he was headed the same way anyway. Just a few minutes ago the jet was bustling with technicians packing away carefully labelled silver briefcases, but now it’s just you, Steve, Bucky, and Bruce. Bucky is headed to Wakanda, summoned by Shuri with the promise of impressive new upgrades for his arm. The briefcases are samples of chemical solutions the Avengers recently confiscated from an enemy base. They’re also headed to Wakanda, to be examined in one of the country’s laboratories even Tony - begrudgingly – has to admit are more advanced than his own. Along the way, Bucky will be dropping you in Zurich to meet up with Pepper. She’s attending a fancy business retreat there and snagged you an invite under the guise of professional development and maintaining the relationship between Stark Industries and the Avengers. As though being married to Iron Man isn’t enough to cement that relationship. Really, she just hates being outnumbered by arrogant, misogynistic billionaires and wants the company. You’re certainly not complaining. A chance to eat ridiculously expensive food and shit talk gross old men in view of the Swiss Alps? Beats running around after the team, keeping track of a thousand conflicting schedules and chasing down late mission reports. You spend another minute or two idly chatting with Steve and Bruce as Bucky makes himself busy at the instrument panel. The jet can basically fly itself, but you suspect Bucky gets a bit of a thrill any time he gets to be in the cockpit, tech nerd that he is. “You sure you have everything?” Steve asks you with a teasing smirk. “It’s a whole two days, you know. Pretty sure that requires at least a dozen books.” “Oh, har-har,” you grumble. “God, you overpack one time and it turns into a whole thing!” “Didn’t you take like four pairs of shoes and two books for a day trip?” Bruce calls as he walks down the ramp, heading back to the lab, you’re sure. “It was three pairs and you can’t always rely on weather forecasts!” you shout after him. Steve jokingly rolls his eyes. “Of course. And the books?” “Two is a perfectly reasonable number of books to bring on a day trip,” you protest primly. “And if I recall correctly, you ended up borrowing one of those books on the way home, so you’re welcome.” “Fair enough,” Steve laughs, holding out his hands in mock concession and turning to say his goodbyes to Bucky, currently bent over the panel, confidently pressing buttons and flicking toggles. It gives you some comfort. You’re a bit of a nervous flier, but Bucky seems to know what he’s doing and the Avengers’ personal jet has to be a lot safer than any commercial plane you’ve ever been on anyway. Though it’s more than just the thought of crashing into the Atlantic ocean that has you on edge. Three hours. That’s approximately how long you’ll be confined with Bucky in a high-tech tin can. Three hours to sit in awkward silence, or worse, awkward conversation if your previous interactions are anything to go by. Chances are you’ll try to make small talk but somehow end up saying something stupid while Bucky just sort of looks at you like he’s wondering how you managed to get this job in the first place. It’s a reasonable question, to be fair, and one you’ve asked yourself at least once every day since you started. Not that you’re a notably skilled conversationalist in general, but around Bucky, you can barely manage to string two coherent sentences together. You can’t help it! You just like him so fucking much and you want him to like you even just a little, so you try to be cool and relaxed and chill. Like Natasha or Sam, the two people who, apart from Steve, he seems to actually be comfortable around. Unfortunately, you are neither cool nor relaxed and you definitely are not chill. No, you are a grab-bag of somewhat less attractive personality traits like excitable and dorky and perpetually-fucking-nervous, all wrapped up in sensible shoes and practical, un-sexy clothing. Basically the anti-Nat, or any person you can imagine Bucky being attracted to. So when you try to converse with him like a normal person you usually end up rambling on like an alien who watched one episode of Gilmore Girls and thought that was how humans really communicated with each other. Not exactly a turn on. Sadly, knowing you have absolutely no chance with him does nothing to stop your feelings. If anything it only makes them stronger somehow. No harm in letting yourself become totally obsessed with the guy since it’s not like you’ll ever tell him how you feel, therefore there’s no chance of rejection! Foolproof! Really though, you don’t know how you could have avoided falling for him anyway, even if you had tried. As a member of the team’s admin staff, you see them basically every day. Relaxing, training, doing press and charity events – everything but actually going on missions. After months of chatting during meetings, discussing schedules and events, and working in the same place they live, you’ve gotten to know them pretty well, you think. And despite Bucky’s taciturn demeanor, the White Wolf seems more like a puppy to you. Sure, his resting expression has a tendency to read as slightly murderous and he's undoubtedly deadly in the field, but there's another side to him too. Bucky is enthralled with all things technological. Whenever there’s a presentation on new tools for the team Bucky is there, bright-eyed and attentive, with thoughtful, clever questions on how it all works, and he’s not shy about making suggestions either. He shamelessly enjoys all things soft and cozy – fuzzy blankets, knit sweaters, his cat. Alpine was a stray Bucky found wandering the grounds of the compound. Now she wanders the residential wing instead, usually wherever Bucky is. He could be bitter and angry and cruel after everything he’s been through – and God knows he’d have every right – but he’s not. He has his bad days, of course. Days at a time where you hardly see him except for mandatory meetings or training, and then with dark shadows under his eyes and a heavy blankness that seems etched into his face. But most of the time it’s clear he wants to be part of the world. With his never-ending curiosity about all the things he missed, or never had the freedom to enjoy. With his dark, wry humor and the fond way he can’t help but look at Steve whenever he says something that must remind him of before the war. With the way he tries so goddamn hard to put some good back into the world, to make up for things that weren’t even his fault. You truly don’t understand how anyone could know him and not love him. You certainly never stood a chance. “See you, pal. Text me when you land.” Steve’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been staring into nothing for longer than you realized. “Say hi to Pepper for me!” he calls to you as he leaves. And with that, it’s just you and Bucky. For the next three hours. +++ The awkward silence – apart from a quiet, “You ready?” from Bucky just before take-off – lasts all of ten minutes. That’s as long as you can go before the pressure to say something becomes irresistible. Being bad at talking to Bucky has never kept you from trying, unfortunately. “You excited to go back to Wakanda?” you ask. Bucky nods. “Yeah. It’ll be nice to see Shuri again.” He says it with a soft smile and you know he means it. He clearly has a deep affection and respect for her. “I bet. She seems ridiculously cool. Honestly, I wanna be her when I grow up,” you joke, then immediately cringe. I wanna be her when I grow up? Come on! Bucky laughs politely and the jet is once again silent. Bucky seems content to just sit with his thoughts, but the jet’s at cruising altitude now so you take the opportunity to get out of your seat and grab one of the only two books from your bag. Can’t say anything stupid if you’re too busy reading! Check and mate, Rogers. You’re elbow deep in toiletries and underwear, having decided blindly digging around would be preferable to actually taking the bag down and fully unzipping it, when you decide to try speaking again. “So do you know what upgrades you’re getting? You know, for –” you gesture at your left arm, or try to, except you use the arm currently being eaten by your suitcase at the exact moment the jet hits a patch of turbulence, jostling you and your luggage. Bucky jumps up, darting over to steady you with a hand on your back. As a part of your mind becomes consumed with thoughts of, holy shit he’s touching me, you manage to wrench your arm out of your suitcase, sending it to knock against the silver briefcase next to it. The impact shifts the briefcase slightly. The next bump of the jet a moment later has it falling out of the storage unit entirely. The silver briefcases used by the Avengers to transport dangerous or delicate materials are very cleverly designed so that – properly clasped – they could be used as a football for an NFL game with no ill-effects. Which is how you know this case has very clearly not been properly clasped because as it falls it springs open, and a small vial of clear liquid hits the floor. And shatters. For a single moment there is absolute silence as you and Bucky stare down at the broken glass and the thin, silvery mist rising from it with shocking speed and volume, filling the space around your bodies. “Oh, fuck,” you breathe. Bucky snaps into action, grabbing you by the arm and tugging you toward the sleeping compartments in the back of the jet, calling for FRIDAY along the way. “Get us back to the compound now,” he orders. “And get Stark or Banner on the line.” He shoves you inside the nearest cabin, following and sliding the door shut behind him. Immediately he’s gripping you by the shoulders and turning you to face him. “Did any of it get on you? On your clothes?” he asks urgently, eyes scanning your body. “No! I mean, not the liquid, I don’t think. But what about that mist or vapour or whatever? What if we breathed it in?” You have no idea what was in that vial. “Oh God, we’re gonna die,” you moan, anxiously pacing the tiny room. “Or I am, anyway. You’ll probably be fine. Fuck. Oh my God. What if it’s like, some flesh-eating poison? Am I gonna turn into the Hulk?” Your heart races and you feel hot. You can’t tell if it’s just fear or something worse but whatever it is must show on your face because Bucky gently guides you to sit on the narrow bed as the call finally connects. “Hey, Bucky, what’s up?” It’s Bruce, thank God. You’re not sure you could handle even the briefest and most well-meaning witticism from Tony right now. Bucky very quickly briefs Bruce on the situation, finishing with, “Any idea what the fuck was in that case?” You can hear the anxiety in Bruce’s voice. “Shit, I don’t know. Not unless you have the label. And we didn’t really examine them, just packed them up.” “Fucking great!” you can’t help but interject, throwing your hands in the air and receiving a concerned look from Bucky in return “But listen, guys. You’re on your way back to the compound – FRIDAY says 30 minutes tops. I’ll have medical and biochem ready as soon as you touch down. And it’s already been what? Like five minutes? If nothing’s happened yet, you’re probably fine? Just sit tight and don’t leave the cabin. The doors seal airtight so nothing can get through.” And with that, Bruce hangs up to get everything ready for your return, leaving you and Bucky at opposite ends of an very small space. You’ve never been claustrophobic before but you must be developing the fear because the walls feel like they’re closing in and your heart feels like it’s about to beat its way out of your chest. “Okay, wow. Great. ‘Sit tight.’ That’s awesome, just awesome.” You look around the room, empty except for the bunk you’re sitting on. “What are we supposed to do now? Play twenty fucking questions?” Your relaxing weekend abroad has disappeared and apparently taken your brain-to-mouth filter with it. Between that, your racing heart, and the increasing heat spreading through your body you’re not entirely sure that you’re probably fine, but you’re chalking it up to anxiety because it’s not like there’s anything you can do about it anyway. Except sit tight. Looking up at Bucky you can see his cheeks have taken on a pink flush, but again, that’s probably just stress. Or maybe annoyance at having to be trapped in a tiny room with you and your panicked blathering for the next half hour. Sighing, he sinks to the floor, resting his back against the door and stretching out his legs in front of him. “Nothin’ to do but wait, doll.” Your eyes flash to his. Doll. He’s never called you that before. He’s never really called you anything before. Bucky seems to have noticed it too because he furrows his brows, looking like he’s just as surprised as you are. There’s a brief moment of eye contact before you both quickly look away, choosing not to address it. Probably just a habit, you think. A remnant of the Bucky that existed long before you were born, jumping out in a moment of stress. A heavy silence falls, leaving you both to your own thoughts. You try to focus on breathing, on staying calm, but your mind keeps straying and it feels like there’s too much energy in your body. Your skin practically itches with it and you squirm, unable to get comfortable but not sure exactly why. You can hear Bucky tapping his foot on the floor, the sound of him shifting around. You wonder if he feels it too. Bucky… Doll. The way it had fallen out of his mouth so casually, so easily. As though he’d said it to you a hundred times. You feel a spark bubble up inside you picturing Bucky’s flushed cheeks and that word. You imagine him saying it breathlessly, reverently, just before his lips touch yours. Or growling it out as he moves inside you… Fuck, doll, just like that. You nearly let out a whimper and you feel a rush of slick in your panties, shocking you out of your fantasy as you become uncomfortably aware of just how wet you are. That spreading heat flares even more than before and you realize you must have been dripping into your underwear for longer than just the last few seconds. There’s a deep throb of arousal in your core, stronger than anything you’ve felt before, like that unbearable energy under your skin has been pulled to settle deep inside you. It’s confusing – far too powerful to be the result of a vague, half-imagined fantasy. But even as you wonder at what’s happening, it’s like a fog settles over you, the confusion half-hearted, nothing compared to the growing urge to touch, to quell the burning fire inside you. Before you can even consciously register the movement, your hand is making its way to your pussy. Any shock or embarrassment at your wildly inappropriate behaviour is slow to appear and dulled when it does. Snatching your hand back just as it nears the apex of your thighs is like walking through deep water, like you have to convince yourself why you shouldn’t get off in front of a co-worker. Your eyes flash to Bucky, wondering if he’s seen, if he’s affected the same way you are, only to find his gaze already fixed on you, blue eyes blown nearly black. His fists are clenched at his sides and his lips are bitten red and spit-slick. He breathes in deep, nostrils flaring, and you realize he can smell you. It should be humiliating. You should be turning away in humiliation, but instead, you feel yourself get – somehow, impossibly – wetter and this time you can’t contain the helpless whimper when Bucky groans and licks his lips in response. It’s as if with that sound the floodgates have opened because in an instant you’re slipping off the bed and throwing yourself at him, desperate to be closer, as close as physically possible. You scramble on top of him, graceless and frantic, straddling his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. Bucky’s hands grip your ass, pulling you closer and grinding you down on his cock, pressing hard and hot against you even through your clothes. There’s a moment – a tiny fraction of a second – where you catch each other’s eyes. A pause, where you think you see something, some emotion on Bucky's face, but you don't have time to decipher it before he’s surging up to press his lips against yours and a bomb is set off inside you. You have no idea what you’re doing – your experiences up to now have been limited to a handful of lackluster kisses with people not worth remembering – but Bucky doesn’t seem to notice or mind. He holds your face firmly in his hands, turning your head to suit him as he licks into your mouth and you do your best to mimic his actions, clumsy in your mindless passion. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth and you gasp, rocking your hips against his, trying to get some friction on your throbbing clit. He thrusts up against you and you move together but it’s not enough. It’s clear whatever was in that vial has created a thirst in you that won’t be quenched by a heated make-out session and you pull away from Bucky's mouth, moaning as he tilts your head back to kiss your neck, licking and sucking at the tender skin. “More,” you gasp. “I need more.” You feel him nod against your throat and with one last, deep kiss to your lips Bucky grips you by the hips and lifts you off him, shifting to rest his weight on his heels before reaching to push your dress up over your waist. Almost all of your higher brain function is devoted to being as close to Bucky as possible but far in the back of your mind, there’s a small part of you that’s simply shocked at what’s happening, at the sensations coursing through your body. You have never felt this uninhibited in your entire life. You were a shy, anxious child who grew into a somewhat less shy, anxious adult, easily embarrassed and prone to overthinking. But now, with that silvery mist working its way through your system, you’ve never felt so shameless. Bucky is feverishly slipping off your shoes and tugging down your tights and you’re not thinking about how you haven’t shaved your legs in weeks or how you’re wearing an old pair of plain cotton panties or any of the dozens of worries that would be running through your head under normal circumstances. (Not that Bucky would be undressing you at all, under normal circumstances.) No. Instead of overthinking and paralyzing yourself with fear, you’re pulling your dress over your head and reaching back to unclasp your bra so you can get your own hands on your breasts. You could almost just sit and bask in this unfamiliar feeling of freedom if it weren’t for the hot ache in your core that threatens to burn you alive with every moment you go untouched. As soon as your tights have been pulled off and tossed aside, Bucky is shouldering your legs apart and leaning forward to press his nose against the wet patch on your panties, breathing deep. “Fuck, doll. I need to taste you.” You whimper as his tongue darts out to lick a wide stripe up the length of your covered cunt. His hands move to your hips and in an instant, your panties are torn from your body and his mouth is on your bare skin for the first time. You can’t help but gasp as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your folds. His tongue licks up your opening and circles your clit before moving back down and slipping inside you, drinking up your slick. Bucky growls against your pussy. “So fucking good.” His tongue moves back to your clit and he laps at it in short, teasing flicks. You begin to buck helplessly and Bucky’s metal arm brackets your hips, holding you still for his mouth. He switches to deep, firm circles over your clit, alternating with wide laps over the whole of your cunt. You’re losing your mind, flat on your back with your legs thrown over Bucky’s shoulders, heels pressing into his back. You’ve never felt anything like this. You haven’t even come yet but it’s already more intense than any orgasm you’ve ever given yourself. You feel two fingers against your opening and you fight Bucky’s grip over your hipbones, trying to grind yourself down onto him. He chuckles at your efforts and presses just the tips of his fingers inside you. “So needy, huh? Just wanna be filled up, don’t you?” You have no idea how he’s able to tease right now when you're ready to fall to your knees and plead just for the chance at an orgasm. You whine, trying again to slide down onto his fingers but his metal arm keeps you from moving a single inch and you toss your head back with a wail. “Please, Bucky,” you sob. “I need it, I need you. Please.” You feel no embarrassment at your begging. The fire inside you is growing hotter and hotter. You need him. You need to be filled, fucked. You feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you now. The teasing tone drops out of Bucky’s voice and he presses messy kisses to your inner thighs. “I know, I know. I feel it too. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna fill you up so good. Stuff you full. Gonna make you feel so good, make it better.” His fingers finally slip into you, sliding easily through your wetness. He starts thrusting and his tongue circles your clit again as his fingers curl. He focuses on your g-spot, stroking roughly as he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks. You’re coming in seconds with a series of breathy moans, thighs clamped tightly around Bucky’s head. He doesn’t let up, only pulling away when you tug at his hair, the sensations too much. He kisses you, sliding his tongue against yours and you can taste yourself in his mouth. It reignites the fire your orgasm had dulled slightly and you pull away, about to plead for more, but it seems Bucky has finally reached his limit. His hands work at his belt and he shoves his jeans and briefs down just enough to free his cock. You’ve never really seen one in person before and maybe under different circumstances you’d take a moment to get familiar, but right now all you can do is spread your legs and beg. Bucky quickly positions himself above you, lining his cock up with your entrance. He drags the head along your pussy a couple times, groaning as he slicks himself up and begins to push into you. He’s bigger than anything you’ve ever had inside you hardly notice the sting. It’s nothing compared to the raging chorus inside you chanting more, more, more. In one single, hurried thrust he’s fully inside, your bodies pressed flush together. Bucky moans. “So fucking tight, fuck. You feel so goddamn good, doll,” he pants above you, leaning down for a filthy kiss, wet and open. “Fucking move, please,” you beg, hooking your legs around him and digging in your heels. Bucky growls into your mouth and pulls out almost entirely before thrusting back inside hard, pulling a sound from deep in your throat. He repeats the move a handful of times before settling into a harsh, pounding rhythm with his face buried in your neck. You cling to his back, senseless, unable to focus on anything but how good you feel. Your brain feels fuzzy and empty and every thrust drags his cock along your g-spot and it’s too much, too good. You’re a gasping, panting mess. It’s not long before his hips start to stutter, his rhythm breaking as he moans out above you. Your hand slides down your body to your clit and you rub firm circles around it. A few swipes and you’re coming, harder than you ever have in your life, with a high, keening moan. The tight squeezes of your cunt have Bucky coming too and you feel a warmth release inside you as he collapses against your chest. Neither of you moves for a long moment, your heavy, mingled breaths the only sound in the room. There’s still some lingering fog as you soak in the afterglow of your drug-intensified orgasm, but it seems like the chemical has run its course and clarity is quickly returning to you. The silence is broken by FRIDAY announcing your approach to one of the landing pads, and you feel the jet begin its descent a moment later. Her voice hits you like a slap in the face, a stark reminder of what’s really happening here, what you’ve just done. It seems Bucky feels the same, because he leans back just enough to look you in the eyes and a long moment of horrified recognition passes between you. Your breathing picks up again as panic surges through you. You start to squirm under his weight but he’s already moving. You wince as he pulls out of you, suddenly aware of a deep soreness between your legs. In seconds, Bucky has tucked himself back into his jeans, and he storms out of the cabin without a backward glance. So eager to get away from you he doesn’t seem to care that he might be walking directly into a toxic cloud. Like anything would be better than being trapped with you for another moment. You lay there on the floor, naked and shivering, with Bucky’s cum starting to leak out of you as you struggle to take a breath, all the anxiety and uncertainty the drug had masked flooding back to you at once. You force yourself to sit up and pull your clothes back on, cringing as you feel the mess between your legs seep into your tights. You hastily stuff your ruined panties in your pocket. You take a few deep breaths and try to still your shaking hands as you hear footsteps approaching the cabin. You’re given a respirator and guided off the jet into a throng of people awaiting your arrival, Bucky nowhere to be seen. White-coated staff swarm you and lead you inside. +++ You wish you could say the next several hours are a blur, but they are, unfortunately, exceptionally, horrifically clear. You’re taken through a decontamination shower, though you’re really not sure how much good it could do at this point, then poked and prodded with needles and swabs while having the most mortifying conversation of your life. You feel nearly choked with a shocking, burning shame. This morning you woke up nervous and excited for a weekend away, and now you’re telling a handful of strangers how you just had sex for the first time in an uncontrollable, frenzied state of lust with one of the Avengers. And as though it couldn’t be worse, it’s made all the more humiliating by the lingering throb of arousal thrumming through you the entire time. It seems whatever this drug is, the two orgasms you’ve already had weren’t enough to neutralize it, though at least you have enough self-control now to keep from shoving your hand down your pants in front of everyone in the room. Finally, after what seems like hours and unfortunately really is hours, you’re told to go home and rest. You’ve been given an emergency contraceptive, a pamphlet for the Employee Assistance Program, a number to call if you feel any strange symptoms, and told that someone will follow up with you in the next day or so. You feel numb as you enter your apartment, tugging off your med-bay issued scrubs on the way to the bathroom. You get yourself off in the shower, and though it’s the most joyless orgasm of your life, it seems to finally clear any lingering arousal from your system. Wincing at the tenderness between your legs, you scrub yourself clean under the hot spray, half wishing you could dissolve into a puddle and wash away down the drain with the soapy water. You’re getting ready for bed when your thoughts take a sudden turn to Bucky for the first time in hours. You’d been so overwhelmed by all the tests and questions, so cocooned in your own embarrassment you’d practically forgotten about him. Guilt rushes through you at your own selfish thoughtlessness. Feeling so sorry for yourself like you were the only victim. Like you were the victim at all. You’ve had a crush on Bucky for months, have spent more time than you’d like to admit imagining being with him in ways both innocent and obscene. But he’s never looked twice at you, barely speaks to you except for unavoidable work discussions. Not that you expect anything different. Someone like him would never want to be with you anywhere outside your daydreams. Except now he has been with you. Forced against his will to take part in some horrific act, because surely that’s how Bucky must see it, now the fog of uncontrollable lust has cleared. You had sex for the first time in decidedly unwanted conditions, but at least it was with someone you’re genuinely attracted to, someone you have feelings for. Bucky had been forced to have sex with someone he didn’t even like, much less desire. After everything he’s been through, how hard he’s worked to find a place where he can feel safe and in control of his own life – his own body. Only to have that control taken from him again in the most indecent way. Shame, viscous and thick, swells in your throat like sickness and your eyes fill with tears. No wonder Bucky ran out of the cabin the way he had. You feel so much worse because of your feelings for him. Dirty and wrong because you would have enjoyed the sex even without the drug. You know, deep down, it’s not your fault. You didn’t mean to knock the case over and you had no idea what was inside – not to mention you weren’t the one who forgot to latch it – but you can’t help but feel responsible for what happened and you wonder if Bucky feels the same. If he knows about your feelings and thinks you orchestrated the entire thing on purpose. You wouldn’t blame him if he did. And the rest of the team! If they don’t know already, they will soon enough. What if they blame you too? What if they’re disgusted by you? Anxiety spreads through your body from your pounding heart, filling your limbs. You can’t breathe, you can’t think. You feel boiling hot and ice cold all at once. Collapsing to your bedroom floor, you bring your hands to your thighs, digging your fingernails into the skin. The sharp pain distracts you from the heavy panic flooding your body enough to let you focus on breathing in, then out, repeating the words in your head until you feel your heart rate settle, the panic easing a little. You pull yourself up off the floor and push yourself through the motions of getting ready for bed. The intrusive thoughts are still there (everyone hates you. You’re going to lose your job. Are you sure you didn’t do it on purpose?) but you try to ignore them. There’s nothing you can do about anything right now and thinking yourself into a panic attack won’t do any good. You turn on an old episode of your favourite show and get in bed, tugging the covers up to your neck and focusing on the screen, allowing the familiar storylines to dull the intensity of your thoughts until you finally fall asleep. A/N: And that’s the end of Part 1! Thanks for reading and feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog and let me know what you thought! I spent a truly ridiculous amount of time trying to figure out the whole sex pollen aspect and I’m still not totally happy with it hahah but I hope it doesn’t seem too shoe-horned in 😝 Anything else that you’d like to see tagged/warned for, let me know!!

#bucky barnes x reader #reader insert #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #smut #series

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vanillann · 3 years

Text

busted lip kisses (steve rogers x reader)

a/n: i love steve rogers with my whole heart, it’s so sad!! also this is kinda a college au! because i’ve been obsessed with them lately

word count: 1.5k

warning: mention of fighting, blood, swearing, implied smut (nothing graphic), and TALK OF A GUY BEING A REAL CREEP

marvel masterlist entire masterlist

I knew Steve Rogers never backed down from a fight, it was a simple known fact, but when I swung open my door accepting Wanda and found a bloody Steve I was definitely in a state of shock.

Rightfully so.

“What the hell!” I reached for his arm on the door frame, wrapping it lightly around my shoulder. Steve tried to get my name from his lips but instead came a small drop of blood.

“Holy shit!”

“L-languag-e,” his words were spaced out, the single word sounded like a whole paragraph falling from his lips, yet he still had the tiniest smirk on his lips.

I didn’t say anything about his comment, normally I would be making fun of his outburst as he would say “a sailor couldn’t curse as much as you” but I brushed it off and moved him deeper into the apartment.

Wanda and Shuri were supposed to be here by now, but after bar surfing, you knew better than you assume they would be home before three in the morning.

Steve stumbled deeper into the apartment, making it to one of the stools at the kitchen island. His head rested on the cold surface and I could tell by the way he hid his face from the light he had a headache.

I flipped the overhead light off, using the smile night light Wanda bought and the little lap on the counter for light.

“Did you fight a biker gang?”

I didn’t wait for an answer, running past him and my homework that definitely wouldn’t get done now, into the little bathroom. I heard him yell my name and him begging me to come back but my fingers were reading over the different bottles.

Once I found the last set of badges I closed the cabinet, shocked to find Steve leaning against the door frame with a little pout on his busted lip.

“I don’t need t-that,” he stuttered out, his body suddenly going limp in the doorway, sending him to the floor of the doorway.

“Shit Steve,” I moved to sit on the floor beside him, studying his face as she shook himself from the little trace.

“I drank too much.”

I rolled my eyes, readying to get him comfortable so I could get my phone and call either Bucky or Sam, praying they weren’t the ones who got him in this mess and then left him on the doorstep. While it didn’t sound like them I couldn’t help but question.

“How much did you drink?”

“Actually not a lot, just feels like it. After he smashed my head into the table I started feeling like this,” she spoke absentmindedly as if his words weren’t making me worry more.

My hands shaky grabbed the alcohol wipes, opening a pack and pulling out the whip.

“This might burn,” I didn’t get him time before I wiped the cut on his lip, which earned an overdramatized win and I knew he was either drunker than he says or he did hit his head hard, Steve Roger wasn’t a whiner.

“I’m sorry, you have a test tomorrow,” he was suddenly coming back, placing his hand on the floor as if he was going to leave but I placed my hand over his, stopping him immediately.

“You aren’t leaving.”

He didn’t question me, slowly sitting back to the floor of the bathroom as he watched me clean up the blood in his eyebrow and trying to avoid the black eye.

Shuri was the doctor in training, not me.

“Just tell me what happened?”

Steve stopped looking at me for the first time since he sat down, his eyes trained on the hinges of the bathroom door.

“Steve, please.”

I hated the way my voice was begging, but this was Steve we were talking about. Like I said earlier, Steve didn’t back down from a fight, but he never fought because he got bored.

There was always a reason, a real reason.

“You didn’t hear them,” he spoke under his breath, his voice far away like he wasn’t on the same campus as me.

“Who?”

I gently moved to sit shoulder to shoulder with him, placing his hand in my lap while I cleaned up his bloody knuckles. The bruises were already forming and I wonder how long ago he was beating someone up before he walked into my house and gave me puppy dog eyes.

“Rumlow,” I rolled my eyes at hearing his name. The jerk was a grade A ass who just happened to be captain of the football team.

What a cliche.

“What did Rumlow do this time? Did he say something about Bucky again?” I could only guess what stupid name he had given Bucky or Same this time, as he normally stuck to Bird Brains and Robobitch.

“It wasn’t them, he was talking about you.”

I dropped his hand in my lap, turning to study the side of his face with a frown. He still didn’t look at me but I saw the look in his eyes. He was reliving as we spoke.

“Why?”

“He was talking about having a class with Wanda-” he stopped, taking in a sharp breath and I watched him bawl a bit with my sweatpants in his hand, “talking about how he was going to partner with her to get closer to you.”

I knew that wasn’t it, Rumlow would have to get nastier than that for Steve to snap like this.

“What else Rogers?”

“Said he was going to sneak into your room and take your undergarments.”

I felt the vile build up in my throat, I suddenly felt small and the thought of him being on the same campus as me.

“So you punched him?”

“Not exactly, I smashed a glass over his head.”

I gasped, turning to look at the side of his face better. I was in shock for sure, he wasn’t one to do things like this. No matter what it was always a view, punches, and once he choked a dude for like a single second, but smashing glasses over someone's head?

“What the hell Steve?”

“I told you (Y/N), you didn’t hear ‘em,” I knew better than to ask who else saw, his eyes were already filled with rage just telling me around Rumlow.

The only thing he hated more than bullies were bystanders.

“I understand that Steve, but smashing a glass over his head!”

“Did you not hear what I just told you?” Steve finally looked at me and it took everything in me not to back away. He looked like he could slap someone in half at this point.

“I get that Steve, it’s fucking gross but I’m not some girl that you need to defend my honor! I’m your friend-” his hand slammed into the tile of the bathroom, his eye looking deep into my own.

“Don’t you see, I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your neck!”

Suddenly I was more scared of his words than him because I could have sworn he just said he wanted to kiss my neck.

“You must be concussed,” my words were barely above a whisper as I spoke.

“Trust me, I’m not.”

His harsh jaw was softer now, his lips frowning as he looked at me. That was the scary part, how he looked at me. You don’t expect someone to look at you like a siren until they are.

You don’t expect someone like Steve Rogers swinging at a stupid boy because he apparently wants to kiss your neck.

“I think-”

“Unless you're going to tell me to fuck off or fuck you I don’t wanna hear it.”

I slowly brought my finger up to my lips, trying to think over my words before I spoke. I couldn’t believe how forward he was and I don’t think he sounded either by the way his face fell.

“Shit, sorry (Y/N)-”

“Language.”

He looked back at me, his eye wide as I slowly had a little smirk growing on my lips. I felt myself shift around on the floor, smiling wickedly when he started to stutter over his words.

“You wanna kiss my neck?” I asked, my hand slowly moving up his arm.

“I mean, yeah, but without the busted lip and-”

“You wanna wait till your lip heals?” I titled my head, liking the way he watched my hand and my words were making him fall around like a fish outta water.

“What? No, I uhm-”

My finger finally reached the back of his neck, my body slowly moving closer to his own. Once my forehead was touching his he leaned in, his lips so light against mine it felt he was there. When I went to push slightly hard, still worried for his lip, I felt his hand grab my wrist.

I slightly pulled back, smiling at him with my eyes closed. I just kissed my best friend and liked it, a lot.

“I can’t wait for my lip to heal now.”

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captainscanadian · 3 years

Text

Love Me Blue | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Vaaranam Aayiram)

MY MASTERLIST

Series Masterlist

Summary: This night was surely a dream come true.

Word Count: 2000+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tamilian!Hindu!Reader, Sam Wilson

Warnings: References to Hinduism, Death, PTSD, Civil War & Endgame References.

A/N: This is my entry for @bucky-smiles‘s 3K Diversity Writing Challenge! My prompt was to write a fic with a Hindu reader. I decided to write this fic with a Tamilian reader because I am Tamilian. I was born in Sri Lanka and my mother’s side of the family are Hindu. Although I consider myself an agnostic theist, I do enjoy reading the epics of Mahabharata and Ramayana. Pic from Pinterest! <3 Divider by @whimsicalrogers!

Back in the 1940s, Bucky had always made it a habit to check out the Stark Expo. Having been interested in the sciences from a very young age, he had often been rather fascinated by the genius of Howard Stark - at least, until things had taken a turn for the worst once he had joined the war. He still remembered the last Stark Expo he had attended. It had been the night before he was to be shipping out to England for the war, and he had dragged Steve out to celebrate; he had also invited two girls to be their dates.

Seeing Howard Stark present a prototype of a flying car that night had been quite the surreal experience. Sure, the Barnes family had been wealthy enough to own a car during the Great Depression and all. But nothing could ever live up to the sheer excitement of witnessing a flying car.

Well, almost nothing.

“You never mentioned that you could drive a flying car…” The man teased as he saw you enter the pocket park after parking Lola.

“You never asked.” You responded, a cheeky grin plastered across your lips as you made your way over to him.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises?”

“Me?” You quirked your eyebrow at his words. “Are you seriously telling me that I’m the one who’s full of surprises? You’ve been full of surprises all day, Bucky.”

“Guilty as charged.” Bucky beamed, stepping over to kiss you on your cheek. “You look lovely, Y/N. Let me guess, a new dress?”

That cheeky bastard.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You commented, having noticed that he had finally managed to cut his hair off, and he was dressed in the finest velvet suit that matched the blue of your dress. “I’ve got to admit. You clean up really nice.”

“I’m glad you could make it.” He told you once he pulled back. “Welcome to the Stork Club.”

You could not help but let out a soft giggle at that. When Sam had told you to ‘follow the music’, you had not understood what he must have meant at first. But it hadn’t taken you that long to realize that Bucky had referred to the music that had always been playing in your heart. You had followed your heart, and it had led you right towards Paley Park.

“So, this is where the playboys of the 40s used to dance the nights away, huh?” You asked him as you stepped towards him, gently throwing your arms over his neck as you took it all in.

It was a rather warm summer’s night, and New York City was as busy as ever. But with the noise cancelling atmosphere in this pocket park, you somehow felt at ease. It felt as though you were standing on a piece of history, as the Stork Club had been one of the famous clubs during the time of the Great Depression and the years that followed. But being here with Bucky was the most surreal experience of all. Perhaps this was how calming Radha had felt when she followed Krishna’s music out to the forest - calm, relaxed, and madly in love with the man who had led her there.

“Yeah, this is it.” Bucky responded with a chuckle, his metal hand resting on your hip while his other hand moved to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “So, may I have this dance?”

And so, the two of you had danced the night away, under the stars in a rather tiny pocket park in Manhattan, to the music that played in your hearts. While it was not the most romantic first date out there, it was more than enough for the two of you. You had to have your own Rasleela with the man you had fallen in love with, and Bucky had finally taken a girl out to dance as he did during the 1940s.

The two of you returned to the compound just around midnight, having strolled around Manhattan for a little longer, and taking in how busy it was in the city that never sleeps. Bucky had spent most of the night spitting out historical facts about the multiple buildings you’d walked past, and you could not help but admire the fact that you were indeed on a date with a historical figure.

If Natasha were alive right now, you were sure that she would have teased you about your obsession with history, and how it had caused you to date the man you had written your thesis on. Perhaps if the rest of the team found out about it, they too would refuse to pass up the chance to pull your leg about it.

Thankfully, by the time you had returned, they were all asleep. It was just you and Bucky, alone in the common kitchen, just like the many nights you had shared together before. But this time, it was not because you could not sleep through the night. It was because you did not want to sleep, or accept the fact that this night had to come to an end somehow.

Once this night ended, you knew that you had to return to reality. The reality of leading the Avengers until Nick Fury decides to return and free you from your duties; whether he was returning was still a doubt.

The reality was also working with the newly established GRC to deal with the many individuals who had been displaced due to the Blip. While diplomacy had always been your first choice in your career, it was safe to say that you were starting to enjoy working amongst the earth’s mightiest heroes once again.

And speaking of diplomacy, there was something else that you really needed to get off of your chest... something that you had been meaning to tell Bucky for a while now.

“I wish my father could see me right now.” You told him with a sigh as the two of you snuck into the common kitchen to finish up some of your leftover dosa batter. “I wish my father could see that I’ve managed to make a life for myself after he left me.”

Bucky nodded as he sighed, understanding all too well about the loss you had been dealing with. “I’m sure your father’s watching you from wherever he is, and he’s proud of you for being the best boss lady the Avengers have ever seen.” Mixing up the batter as you wait for the pan to heat up.

You could not help but chuckle at that. “It’s funny how you say that.” Seriously, it was ironic.

“Do you miss him a lot?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I do. I miss him… every day. He wasn’t just my father, you know? He was my role model, my mentor. I looked up to him. I wanted to be like him.”

“How did he pass?” He asked. “If you wouldn’t mind me asking…” There was a slight hesitancy that he noticed when you turned your head away from him for a moment, and he could not help but wonder why.

Sam had mentioned to him that your last mission with the Avengers had been in Lagos, and that you had left the compound soon after, as your father had passed away around that time.

“The bombing in Vienna.” You muttered, feeling your eyes glaze over as you remembered that dreadful day.

It did not take that long for Bucky to put two and two together. He was well aware that your father had been a diplomat, so it made sense that he would have been at the United Nations conference to sign the Sokovia Accords when the bomb had gone off. “I… I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know...” He told you as he frowned, now understanding why you had given your kind regards to the Wakandan royal family.

It was for the role they had played in putting Zemo behind bars.

“N-No, Bucky… it wasn’t your fault.” You told him with a sigh, leaning over to wrap your arms around his neck. “It wasn’t your fault. I know that now.”

That last statement almost came out as a whisper. After all, you had blamed him for your father's death, along with the rest of the world that had accused him of bombing the United Nations conference. Hell, you had even fought with Steve because of it. It was a time you did not want to recall, as you now knew that you were in the wrong.

“You thought I killed your father, didn’t you?” He asked you, his eyes glazing over as he remembered those days. Although Shuri and her team had managed to remove HYDRA’s programming from his mind, all of the memories, the trauma and the guilt were very much there for him; he was yet to start working on them.

You could not help but nod in response to his question. “I did. I… I didn’t know then that I had been wrong about you. Steve and I… we were close. I was one of the first people he befriended after coming out of the ice. Every mission, every battle he fought… I was there every single time to fight alongside him. Even when Steve opposed the Accords, I agreed with him. I was even willing to go against my own father. Hell, I even tried to talk him out of signing. I tried to stop him from going to Vienna, but he wouldn’t listen. He…”

Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around you as he let out a sigh. “So, is that why you left? Because opposing the Accords had cost you your father’s life?”

You nodded as you rested your head against his shoulder, letting out a sigh as you accepted his comfort. “Yeah, I did. I left because I didn’t see a point in fighting anymore. I couldn’t do it, not when my father was dead. I felt like it was my fault. I could have tried harder to talk him out of it. I could have stopped him from going to Vienna, but I didn’t… and now he’s dead.” You explained. “I never even got to say goodbye to him.”

He continued to hold you for a moment as you cried, knowing that you must have been holding onto this guilt for several years now. If anything, he understood that guilt himself. “It wasn’t your fault, Y/N.” He told you once he pulled back from the embrace, his thumbs brushing off your tears.

Wiping away the remainder of your tears, you turned over to pour the dosa batter in the pan. “Yeah, well… that makes two of us.”

He wrapped his arms around you once again, resting his chin against your shoulder. “If it wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t your fault either, okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah…” You agreed, for you knew that he was right. “You know, for the longest time, I believed that you were the guy who killed my father, that you were the reason why I fought with Steve, that you were the reason why my life as I knew it was gone…” You admitted, grabbing the oil and drizzling it in the pan. “But now I know that I got to know you, I know that you’re… you’re not who HYDRA had made you out to be. Under all of that brainwashing and… pain, you’re a really nice guy, Bucky. You’re kind and thoughtful. You’re…”

“The Krishna to your Radha?” Bucky cut you off with a soft chuckle, his metal hand rubbing up and down your arms.

You nodded as you laughed. “Yeah, that you are.” You admitted, not just to him but also to yourself.

Eventually, that night did come to an end. After all, the two of you were exhausted from your date and having stuffed yourselves with a late night snack, it was only fair to retreat to your respective living quarters.

It was the first night in a while that Bucky Barnes was able to sleep in his own bed without any nightmares, as he was now dreaming of the life he would get to live with you.

You had a dream that night too. A dream that Andal had described that she had of when Lord Krishna had come to marry her:

Vaaranam aayiram soozha valam vandhu,

Naarana Nambi nadakkindraan yendredhir,

Poorana pokudam vaithu, puramengum,

Thoranam naatta kana kanden thozhi, naan.

The only difference was that it wasn’t Krishna who had come to marry you in your dreams.

It was Bucky.

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