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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

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Summer Nights (Final)

A quick look at the race, and then our final make up scene!

COMPLETED MASTERLIST HERE

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“Okay.” Pepper pulled off her sunglasses and squinted across the canal to where Loki was hanging off Bruce’s side, eyeing the length of leg peeking out beneath Loki’s shockingly short shorts. “Loki isn’t my favorite person in the world, but I would quite literally kill to have legs like that.”

“Eh.” Sam tipped his head and looked Loki over, then turned and looked Pepper up and down. “You do have legs like that, baby. Better legs, probably.”

“Aw.” Pepper flushed a little when Sam smecked a kiss to her cheek. “Thanks Sam.”

“I feel like Sam’s lyin’.” Clint disagreed. “Which I mean, ya can’t blame the guy, I’d lie to you about everything if I got to see you naked but--OW!” He yelped when Carol smacked him across the head. “Damn it, Carol! What, you get a butchy hair cut and now you’re just gonna beat me up all the time!”

“Hey!” Valkyrie snaked an arm around Carol’s waist and tugged her back into her arms. “Make fun of my girlfriend’s hair again and I’ll beat you up.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Clint scowled and rubbed at his head. “M’just saying, Pepper you got good gams, but I would willingly suffocate between Loki’s thighs.”

“Preach.” Valkyrie said begrudgingly. “But seriously, no more making fun of Carol’s hair and Thor? Seriously get better at haircuts and Carol definitely stop letting Thor practice on you.”

“Nah, it’s totally fine, I think it’s a good look on me.” Carol felt along the tips of her mohawk gently. “And the green is cool, right?”

“It was supposed to be black.” Thor grimaced apologetically. “I got the bottles mixed up.”

“The green is cool.” Carol repeated. “You’re doing just fine Thor.”

“Hey everyone.” Steve came up with a smile and a wave, then looked over at the car where Tony was digging around beneath the hood. “Race time yet?”

“Not for another few minutes.” Pepper sighed when she saw Steve was just as buttoned up as he always was despite the near sweltering day. “Steve, maybe undo your collar a little, you’re going to die in this heat.”

“Oh.” Steve glanced down, then popped the top button and smiled. “Better?”

“...sure.” Pepper patted at the big blond’s shoulder. “Did you come to cheer Tony on? That’s… surprising.”

“Well, Bucky is my friend too.” Steve ducked his head so no one would see the anxious in his expression. “I wanted to support him. Plus, half the school turned out for the race, I didn’t want to miss it.”

“Well let’s go get seats, then.” Apparently content with Steve’s answer, or at least surprisingly polite enough to not push the issue, Valkyrie poked Steve in the side and herded him towards the sides of the canal where a crowd was gathered. “We’ll get our asses ran over if we stay here. Let’s go, let’s go.”

“Yeah, alright.” Steve glanced back over his shoulder and tried to find Tony, just as Tony looked up to find him. Tony grinned and waved, and Steve’s heart about soared in his chest. “Yeah, let’s-- let’s um--”

“Oh my god, you people and relationships. Let’s go-o--o already!” Clint hollered and dealt Thor a swift kick in the butt. “Get up there big guy! Mush!”

Down at the track, Tony’s grin stretched a little bigger when Steve kept checking back at him, and finally Bucky jerked at his sleeve and ordered, “Damn it, Tony. Pay attention!”

“Sorry sorry.” Tony forced his attention back to Bucky and then over to Bruce, sneering when he saw the way the rich kid sprawled against his fancy ride. “What’s going on, what are we racing for? Natasha? Honor? The right to punch you in your irritating face?”

“We’re racing for pinks.” Bruce brushed an imaginary piece of lint off his expensive shirt. “Pink slips. I win and I get to tow that Frankenstein’d piece of shit back to my side of the bay and burn it for my bonfire party tonight.”

“And if we win?”

“If for some reason you win?” Bruce raised his eyebrows and patted his car gently. “You get this one. But that won’t happen, so I’m not real worried.”

“Well maybe you should be.” Tony snorted. “Our car moves like greased lightning, she’s gonna kick your pampered, rich boy ass right back to the Academy.”

“Put up or shut up.” Bruce clapped his hands. “See you at the starting line, boys.”

Bucky turned to Tony with an expectant grin and Tony nodded, “We got this Buck, we got it.”

*********

….they most decidedly did not have it, but that had less to do with their car and more to do with the fact that Bruce Wayne was a low down, dirty dog, no good cheat.

“What in the hell is that?” Clint shouted when the two cars leapt away from the starting line and Bruce’s car blew black smoke right into Bucky’s windshield, before spitting enough oil to make the other car slip and slide and lose several feet of traction. “What is he doing?!”

“He’s got a bunch of gadgets on that thing.” Someone from the Academy informed them. “Mr. Wayne designs tech for the military so Bruce has got his car set up with an oil slick and like, tire slashers and everything?”

“And in what universe is that fair?” Carol exploded. “We stole car parts from old men to build Bucky’s car and Bruce has got gadgets?!”

“He calls them bat-gadgets.” someone else said helpfully and when Clint made a disbelieving noise, they shrugged, “I dunno man. Something about how bats are feared by everyone, or how they own the night or something? Rich people are weird.”

“The Wayne family crest has a bat on it, you dimwit.” A third person chimed in and Sam pointed out, “Okay but that doesn’t make Bruce any less weird. Bat gadgets? Really?”

Even Steve laughed a little at Sam’s incredulous expression but he didn’t take his eyes off the race, cringing when one of Bruce’s bat gadgets cut into the side of Bucky's car, slicing through the passenger side door and narrowly missing the tire as Bucky yanked the wheel away. More smoke from Bruce’s vehicle and Bucky swerved to avoid it, and Steve nearly bit through his lip in fear when Tony’s damaged door swung open and the brunette nearly tumbled out.

“Ohhh my god, I can’t watch.” Pepper hid her face in Sam’s shoulder. “Tell me if someone dies!”

“Damn you woman, don’t say that!” Valkyrie scolded. “You’re going to jinx--”

“LOOK LOOK LOOK BUCKY’S WINNING!” Thor pumped his fist in the air in excitement as Bucky’s car rounded the far pillar first, somehow miraculously making the turn tighter than Bruce’s big engined car could, and tearing down the canal back towards the finish line. “HE’S GOT IT! HE’S GOING TO WIN!”

The crowd erupted into cheers and screams as Bucky wobbled and nearly lost control, as Bruce chased him down the straightaway and up onto the sides of the canal to avoid a strip of potholes, as the cars came crashing back down into the puddles and sprayed water everywhere.

Even with Tony in the front seat, Bucky’s car was lighter and even though the front fender crumpled when the car rocketed over a bump and hit a little too hard, the engine didn’t give up, didn’t even sputter. Bruce’s heavy beast on the other hand, hit the same bump hard and veered off wildly to the left, glancing off a median separator and smashing through the guard rails, blowing the air bags.

Tony stood up in the front seat and shouted in victory as Bucky crossed the finish line and the crowd split into two, the kids from the Academy running to make sure Bruce was okay, the kids from Andover swarming Bucky and the banged up car, clapping him on the back, cheering with Tony and shouting the Andover anthem over and over.

Bucky whistled and whooped and popped the car into neutral to rev the engine as loud as he could, and Tony took a few hugs, and then directed the rest of the attention to Bucky so he could duck out of the melee so he could scan the crowd for Steve.

“Are you coming down?” Thor nudged Steve and pointed to the track. “Tony’s looking for you.”

“I see him.” Steve stood on his toes and waved, and down below, Tony jumped up and waved in excitement, motioning Steve to come down and see him. “But um, remember that thing I asked you to help me with? Can we go ahead and start working on that?”

“Sure.” Thor put his fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply for Pepper. He and Steve had agreed Pepper’s experise was definitely necessary for this little project, and the giant smiled when Pepper kissed Bucky’s cheek, then stopped to say something to Tony and headed their way. “You got the pictures from the magazine?”

Steve pulled the torn out pages from his back pocket and took a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah I got them.”

“Hey boys.” Pepper had ditched her usual high heels for sneakers today, giving up fashion in favor of practicality for once in her life. “I told the gang we’d catch them later to celebrate, so we’re good to go for a few hours. Ready to say goodbye to the old you, Steve?

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Steve took one last look at Tony, who was laughing out loud as Valkyrie all but strangled him in a hug. “This will be worth it.”

“I promise it will be” Pepper was practically beaming with excitement as she took Steve’s hand. “Now where did we land on a lip piercing? Thor has been practicing on a piece of styrofoam and I promise he’s so much better than he used to be.”

“...yeah, I’m still not a hundred percent on that one.”

“I’m so much better than I used to be!” Thor insisted. “I promise! Really!

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

The city of Andover took their Memorial Day celebration very seriously. School let out for the summer the Thursday before, and graduation was the Thursday after so seniors could party for a whole week to celebrate finally being done.

The fairgrounds opened at nine in the morning and didn't shut down until well after midnight, and there were fireworks from Friday night clear through the early morning hours of the following Tuesday.

It was the official kick off to summer, the official kick off to tourist season and vacation and all the good times that came with warm weather and beautiful sunsets over the beach.

“I cannot wait until graduation!” Valkyrie shoved most of a corn dog into her mouth, juggling a bag of cotton candy with an over large soda in the other hand. “Then it’s officially summer time!”

“Feels pretty official summer time right now.” Carol shared a funnel-cake-sweet kiss with her girlfriend and grinned. “I say we ditch graduation and make them just mail our diplomas to our parents. Who needs diplomas when there is a bikini and the ocean calling my name?”

“An itsy bitsy bikini?” Clint waggled his eyebrows and was rewarded with twin looks of scorn from the girls. “Alright, never mind, I definitely will not volunteer to be the dedicated photographer for your summer.”

“I tried the same line on Pep and it didn’t work either. Apparently offering to take various pictures of her new bikini didn’t work as a come on line” Sam sauntered over holding two giant turkey legs, one for him and one for Clint. “She decided that all the rich touristy boys are in town and she doesn’t want a boyfriend holding her down. Looks like we’re free to cause mayhem together all summer, Clint.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Clint high fived Sam and took the food. “Where’s Bucky?”

“Said something about finding Natasha.” Thor reached a massive hand over Sam’s shoulder and plucked the turkey leg right from his hands, ripping off a huge bite before dropping it back onto the plate. “He seemed pretty determined to fix this thing between them once and for all.”

“Well he should watch out, she’s been on the war path.” Pepper popped up as well, sucking on one of those sugar free popsicles the cheerleaders were selling. “Sam, you look cute in that shirt.”

“Cute enough for a date tonight?” Sam asked hopefully and Pepper rolled her eyes. “Huh. Haven't checked out the touristy talent yet?”

“I adore you.” Pepper said simply. “But I’m keeping my fingers crossed for someone who drives a BMW.”

“Ice cold.” Sam muttered, but he still offered Pepper a bite of his snack and smiled when she did. “And just so beautiful.”

“I do adore you.” Pepper whispered and scooted a little closer. “Maybe a date tonight.”

“Hey whoa whoa whoa.” Clint slapped Thor’s hand away when the big blond tried to take his turkey leg too. “I don’t mind sharing, but with you it’s always a seventy-thirty split and you’re the one who ends up with the seventy percent. Get your own snack, Thor. And while you’re at it, track down Tony. Where the hell is he these days?”

“Um--” Carol about choked on her next bite of funnel cake. “Tony is walking right towards us. Wearing a damn letter man jacket.”

“No he’s not--” Clint started to protest but he shut up when he saw Tony. “...what?”

“What?” Sam echoed, and then reached over and tapped at Valkyrie’s open jaw until she closed her mouth. “Tony, what in the hell ?”

Thor and Pepper were the only ones who didn’t look surprised, Pepper might have even looked proud as she reached out to brush at the bold red collar. “Looks good on you, Tony.”

“Uh, I think you mean it looks a little athletic and non leather.” Clint spluttered. “What are you doing? Tony Stark going-- going jock on us?”

“Does Bucky know about this?” Valkyrie finally demanded. “Because I feel like the Bronco would have a thing or two to say and none of it would approving.”

“I know about it.” Bucky passed by the crowd on his way to find Natasha, but he stopped to ruffle Tony’s surprisingly un-gelled hair. “You look good, Tony.”

“Thanks Buck.�� Tony grinned, and then called, “Good luck!” as Bucky headed towards the Ferris Wheel and the redhead idly rocking her seat back and forth as the ride slowed and lowered her back towards the ground.

“Tasha!” Bucky cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered once he was closer to the ride. “Natasha! Get down here! What th’ hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Natasha brushed past Bucky on her way to the pretzel stand. “Why are you yelling at me?”

“Why are you riding a damn Ferris Wheel?” Bucky stomped along behind her. “Those are dangerous! You could have fallen off or the rocking would’a made you sick or all sorta things!”

“Don’t act like you care.” Natasha sighed over loud when Bucky grabbed gently at her wrist and pulled her to a stop. “Ugh, what, Bucky?”

“Hey hey hey, just listen to me for a minute.” Bucky tugged her off to the side of the path and cupped her face in his hands. “Tasha listen, I um-- I’m here, alright?”

“You’re here.” Natasha repeated flatly. “And what does that mean?”

“It means that I’m gonna take responsibility for all this.” Bucky lowered his voice, hesitating before brushing careful fingers over her stomach. “Even if it’s not my responsibility, alright? You hear me? I got you baby doll. I got you and I--” Bucky lifted Natasha’s hand and kissed her palm. “I got us. I’m here.”

“Do you--” Natasha’s voice wobbled and she cleared her throat. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course I do.” Bucky pulled his class ring out of the pocket of his jacket and slid the chunky jewelry onto Natasha’s finger. “This is a bona fide offer, Tasha. I mean every word.”

“Bucky.” Natasha stared down at the ring for a minute, then pulled it off and shoved it back onto his palm. “Don’t bother. I know you heard the rumour about me being knocked up, but it was a false alarm. Take your ring back and get lost. I don’t need you tying me down out of some weird sense of misplaced responsibility.”

“Wait you-- you aren’t--” Bucky peered a little closer at Natasha’s stomach as if he could tell anything at all through her clothes. “Not pregnant?”

“False alarm.” Natasha forced a smile. “I checked and double checked. But hey, even if it were true, it probably wouldn’t have been your responsibility, you know? No harm done, thanks but no thanks.”

“Tasha.” Bucky didn’t let go when Natasha tried to leave, and when she put up a little bit of a fuss he simply folded the tiny redhead into his big arms, cuddling her against his chest and kissing her forehead. “Sweetheart, I told you this is a bona fide offer. Responsibility or not, alright? I’m not going anywhere.”

“...you’re serious.” Natasha leaned back until she could see Bucky’s eyes, hardly daring to breathe, much less daring to hope-- “You want me, you want us? Are you serious?”

“Course I’m serious.” Bucky fit the ring back onto Natasha’s finger and this time she didn’t take it off. “You’re the only one for me babydoll, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t love you. You don’t have to say it back but--”

“I love you too.” Natasha stood on her toes and kissed Bucky as hard as she could. “Oh my god, I love you too. And I’m sorry about Bruce--”

“Nope.” Bucky shook his head and kissed her again. “Don’t apologize baby, don’t matter none so long as you’re mine now.”

“I’m yours.” Natasha blinked back tears and let Bucky pick her right up off the ground in a long hug, clinging to him tight. “I’m yours, Buck.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to--” Bucky’s sentence trailed off when something red and black and smoking hot strolled past. “Um-- that’s exactly what I wanted-- holy shit, I’m sorry babydoll but did you just see--”

“-- Was that Steve?” Natasha wriggled out of Bucky's arms and gaped after the blond. “Oh my god that was Steve! What in the hell is he wearing?”

“I don’t know, but I definitely need to be there when Tony’s head explodes.” Bucky swung Natasha up into his arms and hurried through the crowd. “You don’t mind me carryin’ you, right? I don’t wanna lose him.”

“Carry me whenever you want.” Natasha murmured and Bucky paused to bend down and give her an achingly tender kiss, before nearly running to try and follow Steve across the fairgrounds.

It ended up being fairly easy to find Steve. All they had to do was follow the whistles and wide eyes, the dropped jaws and dropped food as one by one people turned to track Steve’s progress right towards Tony.

Pepper heard the whistles first, and she smacked Thor in the shoulder, biting her lip to hide a grin. Sam saw Steve next, and the turkey leg fell to the ground unnoticed as he patted at Clint with a near panicked expression. “Looklooklooklooklook-- holy shit, I’m dying, Clint LOOK!”

“Oh ho ho holy crap look at Christmas coming early this year.” Valkyrie breathed and Carol had never whistled at a boy in her life but she whistled now as Steve came to a stop in front of the group and tipped his chin up, clearly waiting for Tony to notice him.

“Steve?” Tony’s voice went high pitched and hilarious, his eyes popping wide and mouth falling open, knees visibly wobbling as he clutched at the nearest booth to keep himself upright. “What--what--what--you look-- oh my god-- Steve?”

“Like what you see?” Steve smoothed his fingers along the nearly shaved sides of his head and through the longer strands on top, the entire look rakish and rebellious and so far from his usual perfectly combed look it made Tony’s head spin. “Sweetheart?”

“What--what--what--” Tony was pretty sure he was broken, he was broken, there was no way Steve was standing in front of him in a bright red pair of skinny jeans and a black leather jacket and not a damn thing more.

So much golden skin, all those gorgeous muscles Tony hadn’t seen since last summer, the gleam of a gold hoop in Steve’s beautiful mouth--

--he was broken.

Just wrecked.

“Nice jacket.” Steve tipped his head back and peeked at Tony from beneath his lashes. “I like the letter man look.”

“I--I--I--”

Steve smirked when it was obvious Tony wasn’t going to get a single word out, and sauntered closer, skinny jeans riding scandalously low along his hips. They were a shockingly tight fit, and his lip stung from the still fresh piercing, and the jacket was hot and a little uncomfortable against his bare back and shoulders but oh was it worth it just to see the stunned look on Tony’s face.

“So I thought about what you said.” Steve made an effort to keep his voice low and flirty as he got closer to Tony, trying to remember what Pepper had said about sexy tones and purposeful eye contact. “About how you were the same person even if you wore a leather jacket now? And I figured I’d test the theory and see how it felt.”

Steve tried for a somewhat sexy pose like the one he’d practiced in the mirror, ducking his chin to look through his lashes, cocking his hip to make sure his body looked good... phew it was a lot of work being like this, how did people do it all the time?

“...y--yeah?” Tony gulped when Steve got close enough to nearly touch, twisting his fingers in the pockets of his jacket so he wouldn’t so anything stupid, blatantly staring at the Steve’s abs tensed when the blond struck a pose that had no business being so eye catching. “And-and--and--how-- um how--how-- is it-- how is it--”

“How is it going?” Steve raised his eyebrows, the look nearly wicked thanks to his new haircut and that damnable lip ring. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“I think I’m gonna combust.” Tony finally got out and when Steve inched closer, Tony very slowly put his hands on Steve’s waist, pushing aside the leather to smooth his palms over the jut of Steve’s hipbone and brush his pinky along the low low waistband of the jeans. “What are you doing, baby? You look amazing, but-- but--”

He shook his head and pulled himself together, whispering, “Steve, you didn’t-- you didn’t have to do this. You didn’t have to change like this for me. I should have always been who I was at the beach with you. I should have changed faster and I’m sorry, but you--- holy shit--”

Tony gulped when Steve moved further into his hands. “Damn sweetheart, you look so good but um-- I-- I-- you didn’t have to--” he tried for a real sentence again when Steve looked like he might laugh. “I love you, Steve.”

“Oh.” Steve breathed softly and Tony nodded, “I love you whether you’re wearing this or-- or your usual stuff. You don’t have to change for me.”

“I didn’t change for you.” Steve said simply, covering Tony’s hand where it rested at his hip. “I’m just wearing something I knew you’d like. I’m still me, Tony. You’re still you whether its leather or an athletic jacket, right? I’m still me, I'm still a goody two shoes compared to you and your friends and I still want sex to mean something. I’m going to study extra hard for tests and I’m never going to be able to smoke and I’m still going to blush when you kiss me but--”

Tony jolted forward and kissed him, and predictably, Steve blushed.

“You’re so damn beautiful.” Tony said hoarsely, “And I promise, I promise to be good to you. I promise to treat you special and if we ever decide to--you know? It’s going to be amazing and special and it’s going to mean everything in the entire world. You mean everything in the entire world. I don’t want you to ever change. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Steve closed the distance between them for another kiss and then another, hissing when Tony bumped too hard against the still tender piercing and then sighing when Tony soothed it with his tongue. “And I promise to be good to you. And not to judge so quickly and to believe you when you say you’ve changed and to--”

“--and to keep these clothes?” Tony interrupted. “Because I love you even when you wear pleats but please god keep the clothes.”

“I’ll keep them.” Steve grinned when Tony’s dark eyes sparked in excitement. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Tony’s hands gentled at Steve’s side, swept up to brush over his chest and then to land over Steve’s heart.. “Oh baby, I’ve missed you too. You and me are meant to be together, you know? We go together like-- like--”

He laughed quietly. “What was that song we listened to on repeat all summer? The one with the dumb words?”

“We go together like rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong?” Steve asked. “That’s the worst song in the world.”

“Oh my god it’s the worst song.” Tony agreed. “But that’s what you and I are like. Rama lama lama ka ding--whatever the hell the rest of it is. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Steve’s smile turned a little shy. “This is going to be the best summer of my life.”

“The best summer of my life.” Tony agreed, and then with a wink, “Sure can’t wait for those summer nights with you, sweetheart. I got all sorts of things planned for us.”

“Mmm, summer nights.” Steve leaned in for a slow kiss. “Tell me more.”

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#ncts fics #stony #grease au #steve rogers #tony stark

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jobros-pleaseinteract · 5 years

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Footprints

Birthday present for @bucky-babe who wanted some Ironhusbands so here we have a college AU (and a surprise AU very fun) also latinx Tony Stark. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Bucky!

Tagging @myspideysensesrtingling @starksnack @sbidermanstan @cptdcnvers @sleepyoldchild @spideysstark @bamboozledfucker @irndad @thors-bleached-eyebrows

warnings: some hints to Howard Stark’s A+ parenting

College. A terrifying time in any young person’s life, but even more terrifying if that young person looked like they were fifteen years old. Tony Stark, genius son of Howard Stark, at seventeen years of age is beginning his academic career at university, and the poor boy is fucking terrified. His father is too busy at some business meeting to help his only child move in, but his mamá is there with him, along with Jarvis to help him carry all his boxes in. Tony can feel his arms start to shake, and he can try to kid himself it’s from the weight of the box he holds in his arms, but deep down he knows it’s because he is about to shit his pants from fear. Sure, he’d gone to boarding school before, but this is different. Here, he is the youngest, a baby, and no one is gonna want to befriend a baby.

A gentle hand passes over his head, caressing his head of curls. “Mi vida,” his mamá whispers to him as they wait for Jarvis to shut the trunk. “Mi amor, calm down. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Tony lets out a cough, trying to calm his racing heart. Yeah, nothing to be afraid of, except, you know, bullies and shit. He’s seen movies. He knows what college frat bros are capable of. He just wants to be challenged… and also maybe he wants to get away from his bastard of a father, but that’s besides the point.

“You are going to do great things here, mi amor. I can feel it.”

He can feel a smile tug at his lips. “Gracias, mamá.”

It flows off his tongue like a river, his mamá’s native language that Howard refuses to allow under his roof. Maria wraps an arm around her son and runs her fingers through his thick brunette curls. She’s going to miss him as she always does when Howard sends her boy away. She’s left with an empty house all to herself; her husband is almost never home, not that she minds, but she misses when she could still hear her Tony’s laughter fill the cold halls.

“You’ll call me,” she says more than asks. He always calls his mamá.

“Claro. Who else are you going to complain to about the women in your book club?”

“Ay, why your father insisted I join those ridiculous women is beyond me.” Maria rolls her eyes. “The books they choose are boring, and all they talk about are their yachts or houses in the Hamptons.”

“You don’t want to talk about that?”

A laugh escapes her. Howard may paint her as some sort of Spanish nobility for the press, but that wasn’t her. She was Mexican born, Los Angeles raised, and she wasn’t used to the life Howard led when they first married. She still wasn’t used to all the bragging and pettiness that came with being married to a Stark. The only good thing to come from her marriage is her son. And her friendship with the Jarvis couple.

“Vamos,” she calls when the three of them manage to grab everything, “we have a dorm to see.”

Tony, he isn’t so sure what to expect from a college dorm, but whatever it had been, it definitely does not match up with what he sees when he opens the door. Whoever his roommate is, well… he’s a total slob. Tony can feel the crease form between his eyebrows as he takes in the set of footprints on their carpet. What asshole tracks dirty footprints on a new carpet?

“Oh, hi!” a warm voice greets from inside. “You must be James’s roommate!”

He’s being swept up in a tight hug. It’s warm, maybe even warmer than the hugs his mamá gives. He’s released, and he sees who had embraced him. She’s beautiful, that’s for sure, and her face is so kind, all laugh lines and dimples. She’s big, bigger than tiny Tony, and he loves it. She’s like some sort of goddess, completely different from mamá, and yet exactly the same. The love they carry in their souls just radiates from them.

“James!” the goddess yells into the bathroom. “James Rhodes, you get out here and meet your roommate!”

“Okay, Ma, there’s no need to yell. I’m only five feet away, you know.”

And there he is. An angel right before his eyes. Tall, dark, handsome--no, gorgeous. Wow, I am so gay, goes through Tony’s mind before he realizes, this is my roommate. You don’t hook up with your roommate, even if he is the most beautiful being Tony has ever seen in his entire fucking life.

“Hi,” Tony squeaks, his voice cracking in a way that just makes him want to crawl in a hole and live out the rest of his days like some hermit, “I’m Tony.”

“James,” the angel--his roommate--says, and his warm ass hand fucking engulfs Tony’s tiny one, and Tony wants to melt into the carpet right there. “It’s nice to meet you, Tony.”

The goddess, who Tony’s infers is James’s mother, holds out her hand to Maria and gives her a warm smile. “Roberta Rhodes.”

“Maria, pleasure to meet you.”

“This your husband?”

“Oh, no,” Jarvis scrambles to put down his boxes and shake Mrs. Rhodes’s hand. “Edwin Jarvis, I’m a, uh, family friend. Here to help him move in.”

“Your husband working? That’s understandable, Terrence is back home looking after our daughter while I get to help James get settled in.” Mrs. Rhodes lowers her voice and stage-whispers, “He was nervous to meet his roommate.”

“Ma!”

“But I don’t think there’s any need to be nervous. You seem like a good boy, Tony.”

“I, uh… I am?” He looks to his mamá for some guidance.

“James has nothing to worry about with Tony other than late nights and some skipped meals. Recuerde comer, mi vida,” Maria tells her son. “Hopefully they can look after each other while they’re here.”

They start unpacking, and Tony can’t get over the fact that his super hot roommate is the kind of guy to 1) wear shoes inside and 2) wear dirty shoes inside. Their carpet is absolutely covered in footprints, and while Tony isn’t a neat freak, it does kinda piss him off. But he can’t just call him out in front of everyone, can he? He’s actually a bit surprised Jarvis hasn’t said anything about it. But whatever, right? It’s the first day, and they’ve got a lot of stuff to move in, so it makes sense James would keep his shoes on, and Tony can always clean it up later… hopefully.

Although Tony hates to admit it, he cries when mamá and Jarvis has to go. He’s a baby, practically, and he’s being left on his own to take care of himself. He can’t do that! He has problems with sleeping and eating and just, well, taking general care of himself!

“You are going to be just fine,” Maria tells him as she cradles his baby face in her hands. “You are so talented, Tony, and I am so proud of you. So proud.”

Tony sniffles and looks up at her with glossy brown eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, mi amor, I will always be proud of you.” She presses a kiss to his forehead and closes her eyes. “Te quiero, Tony.”

“Te quiero, mamá.”

Jarvis ruffles his hair and promises to write before he and Maria get in the car and drive off. Leaving him alone on the curb, fighting tears. He’ll be fine. Stark men don’t cry.

Tony and James fall into an easy sort of friendship, and Tony starts to feel more comfortable at school. Rhodey, what James has lovingly been renamed, still tracks in those goddamn footprints, but Tony can’t bring himself to call him out on it. Whenever he feels frustration creep up inside of him, he remembers what always happens when he tries to make his father listen to him, and suddenly he’s unable to say anything to Rhodey about his messy habits. So he keeps his mouth shut and his head down whenever he wants to say something. He can handle this.

His friends think he’s a fucking idiot for not just bringing it up. Well, they think he’s an idiot for a lot of other reasons, but they especially get onto him for this. Somehow, around a week into the semester, he managed to collect three mom friends: Carol, Pepper, and Natasha. He and Carol share a class together, but that’s not how she adopted him. No, it was outside of class, on the quad, when she and the other two girls were studying and talking shit, when suddenly this small boy was tripping over his shoelaces and his books were flying everywhere. They saw tiny Tony and adopted him on the spot, and now they made sure he actually ate, got more than two hours of sleep a week, and communicated with his freakishly hot roommate.

“Tones, if the guy keeps tracking in dirt, fucking tell him,” Natasha sighs as they’re lounging on Tony’s bed one Friday night. “It’s obviously bothering you enough keep bitching to us about it.”

“But what if he gets mad at me?”

“He’s the one being slob,” Pepper points out.

“If he gives you a hard time about it,” Carol says, “we’ll kick his ass. Now hold still.”

Carol had bought some new nail polish and wanted to try it out on Tony, claiming the red and gold would go perfect with his dark skin. It’ll totally pop, Tones, just trust me, she had said when she’d pulled out the bottles. So now he’s lounging between Natasha’s legs, her fingers lightly scratching against his scalp while Carol paints his nails and Pepper flips through a magazine.

“Where is your Adonis anyways?” Pepper asks. “He got plans?”

“I think he said he had a Smash Bros tournament with uh… Sam? You guys know Sam Wilson?”

“Yeah, he’s friends with Steve Rogers and that other guy with the man bun,” Carol answers. “Wait, Nat, didn’t you hook up with man bun?”

“Like, once. Okay, so it was twice, but what can I say? He’s got nice arms.”

“Thirsty.”

“Shut up, Pepper, so are you.”

“Wh-- no I am not, I am completely, 100% focused on classes, thank you very much! You have absolutely nothing on--”

The door swing open, and Rhodey walks in looking a bit winded. He waves to the girls and Tony before disappearing into the bathroom.

“...If he left a Smash Bros tournament, he isn’t worth it, Tones,” Carol tells him. “A quitter never makes an attractive partner, let me just tell you that right now.

“Hey!” Rhodey comes back in and smiles. “Sorry for interrupting your party, but I remembered Sam let me borrow one of his hoodies last week, and if I don’t return it tonight, he’s never gonna let me live it down.”

“Oh, was it the one hanging in the shower?” Tony realizes.

“That’s the one! I got salsa on it and had to scrub it out.” He grins at Tony, and the younger boy swears his heart skipped like five beats. “Anyways, I’ll be back in a few hours. Want me to bring you back some pizza, Tones?”

“That would be amazing, platypus, thank you!”

“Anything for my tiny Tony.”

The girls wait until he’s gone before turning back to their friend with wide eyes. He just looks back at them innocently.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?” Pepper says. “You just called him platypus, and he just called you his tiny Tony!”

“Yeah, we have nicknames for each other, so what?”

“Tony, it was the way he said it,” Natasha sighs. “We already know you’re in love with him--”

“I am not!”

“But, Tony, he sounded pretty fond of you.”

“People can be fond platonically! You are fond of me! And for your information, I am not in love with him.” He stands up, ignoring the annoyed shout Carol gives him when the nail polish gets smudged, and puts his hands on his hips. “I am not in love with someone who is completely incapable of taking off his dirty ass shoes before walking on the carpet! I mean, just look at how messy it is!”

The girls look down at the floor and are quiet for a few moments. Tony waits as they continue to stare at the floor and them give him a worried look.

“What?” he asks.

“Tony… there are no footprints on the carpet,” Pepper tells him.

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you blind?” He gestures to the carpet where he can clearly see a trail of footprints leading to and from the bathroom. “They’re right here!”

“Oh my god, you cannot be this stupid,” Carol laughs. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Yes!”

“Tones, if we can’t see the footprints you can clearly see,” Natasha says, “then have you considered he’s your--”

“If you’re gonna say soulmate, I’m just going to stop you right there,” Tony interrupts her. “There is no way someone like me could ever have a soulmate, let alone one like Rhodey.”

“And why do you say that?”

“Because… well… because I’m me. Tony Stark, the absolute fuck up! I mean, my own father can’t even stand to be in the same room as me for more than five minutes without telling me what a terrible son I am! Why should I be soulmates with someone as wonderful as James Rhodes?”

“There’s a lot to unpack here, but--”

“ANTHONY EDWARD STARK, YOU GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS THIS INSTANT! HE IS YOUR SOULMATE OKAY?” Pepper suddenly yells, causing the others to stare at her with wide eyes. “You can see his footprints, we can. There is literally no other explanation for this!”

“Pepper,” Carol hisses. She can’t just yell at Tony and expect everything to--

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, wow, did not actually expect that to work.”

“Well… you guys are like my moms, so. I listen to you.”

“He listens to you, well that’s just great,” Carol grumbles. “He doesn’t listen to me.”

“That’s because you’re just as reckless and stupid as him, Danvers,” Pepper says back. “Now, Tony, I want you to actually talk to James about this, okay? You know now that he isn’t just some asshole who likes to track dirt into the dorm; he’s your soulmate.”

“But I mean, do we really--”

“Don’t make me pull the full name card again, Tony, because you know I will.”

“...Fine. I will talk to him about this. Now, Carol, can you please fix my nails? I think I fucked them up.

Rhodey sneaks back into the dorm after midnight, trying hard to be quiet in case Tony went to bed. Of course, the little insomniac did not go to bed, and is instead sitting at his desk waiting for his roommate/soulmate. When he hears the door click shut, he turns on his desk lamp and swivels his chair, causing Rhodey to let out a shriek.

“Oh, fuck! It’s just you, Tones. You scared the shit out of me, man.” He can see Tony chewing the inside of his cheek as if trying to find the right words to say. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong, or at least I don’t think so, I just, uh. Fuck. Okay so basically… I think you’re really hot, and I have since we first met, and, like, that’s really weird because we’re roommates and I most definitely should not be thinking that, and then I noticed you kept tracking fucking dirt onto our carpet, but I didn’t want to say anything in case you got mad, because I don’t like it when people yell at me, probably because of like childhood trauma or some shit, I dunno, but then today Carol, Pepper, and Nat realized that you weren’t tracking dirt into the dorm, I just saw your footprints, which, you know, means we’re soulmates.”

“Wait… what?”

Oh, god, Rhodey didn’t know. “Oh, well, we’re--well I think we’re soulmates. Because I can see your footprints when no one else can.”

“Yeah, no I knew that.”

“You knew?”

“Uh, it’s pretty obvious when I can see your footprints, Tony, even when you’re not wearing shoes.”

“Well… why didn’t you say anything?” Tony could feel his chest start to get tight and his breathing pick up. “Oh, god, you don’t want me, do you? That’s why you didn’t say anything! Because, because you know I’d be a terrible soulmate, and you don’t want that, and you deserve someone way better, someone like Sam Wilson, because he’s so cool, oh god, who wouldn’t want to be soulmates with Sam Wilson, he’s like--”

Tony stops talking when Rhodey cradles his face in his warm ass hands, his entire brain going blank.

“Whoa, there, calm down, okay? I didn’t say anything because I thought you knew, Tony.” Rhodey lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “Hell, I thought we’ve been dating for like a month now!”

“...what.”

“Yeah, you started calling me Rhodey and platypus and honeybear, and we’ve been cuddling and holding hands, so I thought you knew! Oh, god, this is so embarrassing! I totally thought we’ve been dating!”

“Well, I… I mean, we could, uh, well, if you wanted to, I wouldn’t object to us, like, actually dating. As in we both know we’re dating.”

“Oh you wouldn’t, would you?” Rhodey asks with a smile. “Well, would you object if I were to kiss you right now?”

Oh my god, he wants to kiss me!

“I mean, if you really wanted to.”

“Oh, shut up, Tones.”

“Why don’t you make m--”

Rhodey leans down to kiss him before Tony can finish his snarky comment, and Tony does not mind one bit. Because Tony has never felt anything as fucking perfect as kissing Rhodey. His whole body grows warm as Rhodey wraps his arms around him, and Tony practically melts against him when he feels Rhodey’s fingers gently tug on his curls. He’s kissing his soulmate, and his soulmate is fucking James Rhodes, his platypus, his honeybear, his Rhodey.

#hope you like it!#i attempt to write #ironhusbands

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geminimoonbeamx · 7 years

Text

Bucky Barnes x Plus size reader/ The Nutcracker

-Word count: 6k+ -A/N: Bucky and Reader start out the Christmas season righttttt lol -Warnings: NSFW, foot kink, y'all already know how dirty my mouth is so lots of cussing. But mostly this is just filled with Christmas cheer lol

The Holliday season was fully upon you; somehow September had turned into October and October to November, and then November had passed in complete blur. Where the fuck was time going?

You’d always been a “Holliday” person, growing up with your big family the last few months of the year we’re always a food fueled, dizzying experience. It had grown with you to adulthood, most years you would go back home to (y/h/t), to spend time with the family but on the occasions that you we’re working, like now, you’d still make due. Decorating and cooking we’re your vices, the evidence of your obsession with Pintrest showing clearly all over the living areas of the Tower.

A large Christmas tree stood tall in the center of the commons, spun with ribbons of gold and silver. Twinkling with Christmas lights and shiny bulbs, warming up the while room. Even if the tree hadn’t turned out so stunning(which would have never happened because you were an are a god damn perfectionist) the fact that the Avengers, the group of mercenaries and superhumans had helped you decorate it would be enough.

None of them we’re really in the Christmas spirit, kind of warn out and dragged by the consistency of having to save the planet and all the stress that came with it. It had taken a little bit of convincing, on your part.

“You guys are going to help me decorate this fucking tree and stop being whiny little fuck faces right now” You had demanded, your eyes stern as you looked them over. You know they’d had a long one, but you also knew that shit like this, team bonding, was so much more important then they realized “I am so serious, you know I cant reach the top! Help me!”

And they had, of course. Not wanting to “test your wrath”, but really you think it’s because secretly they we’re each craving some kind or normalcy. Like Wanda, who hadn’t celebrated the Holiday in the few years since her twin brother had been dead. Or Vision who had never celebrated at all, you know, since he used to be a computer and all that. Nat wasn’t hard to convince, especially after she got some of the spiked hot chocolate that Clint brewed up. Tony wasn’t as much of a scrooge as you though he would be, and even though he complained that he could have easily hired someone to do this. Pepper being by his side and handing him bulbs to hang helped. Bruce went along with the motions, drunk, his glasses slipping down his nose, Thor kept insisting that Christmas was just like some Asgaardian Holiday, and earth had obviously inherited it. Steve, Sam and Bucky we’re laughing about something, something Steve had brought up about Christmas in the 40’s, with warm mugs in their hands.

Was it kind of a mismatched, odd scene to behold? Most definitely. Wanda used her powers to decorate the top of the tree that no one could reach, Steve being so gentle with the delicate, glass, ornaments. Bucky…laughing. Really laughing. His eyes near absent of the shroud they usually carried. You had watched with a happy heavy chest.

That was a few of weeks ago, and you we’re still on your kick. Everyone more or less cooperating now. By force, or course.

You were currently sat at the long, glass dining room table, the one that was littered with a mess Christmas cookies of all kinds. Bowls of frosting, containers of sprinkles. Lila and Cooper, Clint’s kids, sat on either side of you and Wanda was across the table, Nathaniel in her lap as she helped the toddler frost a gingerbread man.

They’d come in from the farmhouse for the Holidays, which meant security was locked much tighter, but it was safer there for the time being anyway.

Forcing the kids to do fun Christmas with you was easy, and to be honest, they we’re kind of starting to ware you out. You’d taken them sledding just a half an hour earlier while the cookies were baking and were sure that you we’re sporting some nice bruises from it.

“Y/N!” Lila had obviously had too much sugar, her voice was vibrating. You just chuckle, amused. You we’re going to return her to her parents with a gnarly sugar high.

“Yes Lila?”

“What if we watch some Christmas movies after this? How the Grinch Stole Christmas is my favorite. Or we could watch Home Alone. Or Mickey’s Once Upon a Christmas, or Mickeys Twice Upon a Christmas?” She rambles this fast and you try to keep the amusement off your face.

“I hate how the Grinch Stole Christmas!” Cooper protests and you shoot him a look.

“Hey, kid, that’s a classic. Even if it does make me cry, you cant diss a golden Jim Carrey movie like that” You scold him, licking a small smear of frosting off your thumb.

“It makes you cry? Why?” Lila inquires and Wanda gives me a raised eyebrow “Yeah, why, Y/N? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of any one weeping to Dr. Seuss”

“Because the who’s people reject him and make him go all hermit in the mountains and its super fu-” you catch yourself and your dirty language “Its really sad, what that does to him. It turns his heart cold. People can be really mean- they tried to make him shave!” You explain, you had been crying to that movie for decades.

“But then Cindy helps him and be’s his friend so he moves back to Who-ville and re joins society” Lila points out, her voice obvious and informational.

You try to bite your laughter, meeting eyes with the brunette across the table who seems to be doing the same, Wanda presses her mouth to Nathaniels head in an attempt to hide her smile.

“Very good observation, Li’” You praise her “You could probably go into Psychology, put me out of a job”

“Don’t go putting ideas in her head, Y/N” Clint enters the kitchen, Steve and Bucky behind him. They’d been helping Bruce with an experiment down in the lab for the larger portion of the day.

You give Bucky a small, fond smile, your eyes seeking his.

“Why Clint? We all know the amount of therapy you need, an are going to need, why not have it in the family? It’d save you a lot of money” You tease the older archer, good natured. Clint could take it as well as he could dish it, and the banter between you guys was never ending “You’d give your dad a good discount, right?” You look to Lila who just grins mischievously and says she’d give him the FAIR price.

“I think you’ve been spending too much time with Y/N. You guys give her hell today?” Clint ruffles Coop’s hair as he sits at one of the empty seats.

“They we’re actually really well behaved, Connor even saved me when I almost broke my neck on the hill out back. My hero” You give Clints eldest son praise, patting his shoulder before you stand, not noticing the way his ears blush bright red at your words.

Bucky does though and he chuckles to himself quietly.

I know the feeling, kid, he thinks as you come up to him and give his cheek a kiss, your soft lips a stark contrast to the scruff there. His large, metal hand splays across your lower back. He wants to dip it under the sweater you have on, feel the plush skin there but he resists. For the children…and because Steve had been bitching about the extreme level of PDA the two of you had been sporting lately.

“Hey guys. How was your day helping Banner? You guys hungry?” You wonder, you had been busy all day, taking the kids off of Laura’s shoulders(That woman needed a month long nap) You hadn’t seen Bucky since morning.

“Boring, really, we just made sure he didn’t blow himself and the lab up. For hours. It was like watchin’ paint dry” Bucky drones down at you with a small little side grin “A lot less fun then yours. You need to be careful with that neck of yours, sweets” You roll your eyes at the flirt in his voice.

“It wasn’t that bad, he got the research he needed done” Steve, ever optimistic shrugs “Are those crinkles? Did you bake them Y/N? Holy smokes, I haven’t had one of those in years” He goes to the table, the cavity wonderland and you chuckle and lean more against Bucky.

“Yeah I did. Your welcome” You tease before looking up at Buck. The near foot he had on you always made you feel so small. He grins as you just stare up at him wordlessly, your big y/e/c glossy with admiration and exhausted. Your cheeks rosy with frost bite from playing outside for so many hours and your hair piled into a messy bun atop your head, long, escapee tendrils loose around your face.

“I missed you today, baby” You coo, reaching up on your UGG covered tip toes, your lips pursed for a kiss. He doesn’t make you beg, he never does, pecking your lips a few times, grinning as you attempt to deepen it.

“I missed you too, pretty girl. You have a fun time with the kids?” you nuzzle at his chin with your nose as he asks.

“I did, I mean ate shit all day and I’m probably going to be sore until New Years, but it was super fun fun. That hill on the property is killer” He snorts as the sentence is broken by a couple yawns. You really do look totally worn out.

“We’ll have to check it out, you tired doll?” He shoots you a knowing look and you shake your head, he reaches his hand up to brush the loose hair away from your forehead, behind your ear. It’s so tender it makes your stomach flip. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how caring this man is towards you.

“No I’m fine. I was going to watch some Christmas movies with the kids” You protest, weakly. Accented by another yawn. “Fuck”

“Y/N, I’ve got it from here. You go take a nap and we’ll start the marathon. You can join when you aren’t half dead anymore” Clint, who had overheard you from his place at the table overhears the two of you. He’d noticed how droopy your eyes we’re when he’d first walked in.

“Yeah, Y/N, we’ll even wait for you to watch The Grinch” Lila reassures, her voice solemn as though she’s promising you world peace or that (Your favorite football team) would win the Super Bowl next year. She really is the cutest fucking thing.

“Alright, I’ll be there. Keep the hot chocolate warm for me, kay?” You smile as you link your fingers with Bucky’s and go to pass the table, heading towards the elevators.

“Promise!” Lila chirps.

“Hey” Clint stops you as you near him and you raise your brows “Thanks for keeping them entertained today. I know they can be a handful, me and Laura really appreciate it”

You smile down at him shaking your head.

“Nah, they’re really good kids… plus I’m giving them back to you with a massive sugar high so should you really be thanking me?” You hear Bucky’s chuckle behind you and Clint rolls his eyes, chuckling gruffly.

“Yeah, yeah. Go get some beauty sleep. You need it”

“Your welcome” You chime as you turn your back, pausing only for a moment “And Steve you’d better not eat all of those crinkles, they’re for everyone!”

The super solder freezes, his fifth cookie inches from his mouth and a guilty look on his face.

Bucky snorts at the expression on his best friends face and leads you out of the kitchen by your hips. You really we’re a force to be reckoned with. Five feet of sass and ass.

You guess you hadn’t really realized how tired you we’re until you entered your room; the still, cozy atmosphere made your eyelids feel like they we’re weighed down and you drag yourself to the foot of your bed and plop down- hard. Bouncing a couple times on your butt from the force before sighing dramatically and throwing your head back on top of the comforter.

Bucky watches you with an amused smile as he closes the bedroom door behind him, locking it into place and padding into the carpeted room.

“Ugh I’m going to be so sore tomorrow” You say after a large yawn, stretching your arms over your head and extending like a cat. Assessing all of the pain. Your thighs screamed in protest, your neck felt stiff. Your feet though, they pulsed with your heart beat. You sit up slowly, groaning as you go.

“Fucking Jesus, my feet are killing me” it comes out whiny-er then you’d meant for it to “I know I’m being super annoying, sorry” you add, trying not to be that girlfriend. You know? That girly, needs to be babied one.

Little do you know, that’s one of Bucky’s favorite aspects of you. Your such an independent person, you bending and needing him, really needing him, always makes his stomach churn with excitement. He comes over, and kneels down in front of you.

“What are you doing?” You inquire, looking down at his head that was almost resting on your legging sheathed knees, but figure it out shortly as he yanks on your leg until you extend it, letting him take it into his lap. He nimbly wiggles off your sheepskin boot, freeing you fuzzy sock encapsulated foot, repeating the action with the other leg. You cant tear your gaze away from him, a small smile quirks on your lips as he looks up at you, holding your foot in his big hands.

“Jeeze your toes are freezing” He hisses, he can feel the cold of your skin radiate through the sock “You said your feet hurt, I thought I’d help you put with that, sugar”

“Mmm, thank you. But come on, lets get a little more comfortable. My ass is sliding off the bed” You laugh and pull at the collar of his shirt.

After some shifting of positions, the both of you cozying into the bed, you find yourself laying back against the pillows, your lower body agled so that your feet rest in Bucky’s- who’s now leaning against the wall- lap. He’s pulled off your fuzzy socks and his hands are working on kneading the aching flesh.

You groan, the sound is fucking sinfully sensual.

“Tell me what feels good, kay? Don’t be shy. I want to make sure you feel better” He persists, pinching a certain nerve on the top of your foot with his fingers that makes you hiss. “Too rough?”

“No, it feels so good. Like orgasmic good” You reassure and he grins, all teeth.

“If you came just from me rubbing your feet darlin’ I’d be a little impressed. I’m not gonna lie”

You bark out a laugh.

“I bet your head would get so big it would throw off the earths balance” You tease. You remember that one time he’d made you cum just from toying your clit outside your panties. The man had acted like he’d invented sliced bread.

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head, muttering something that sounded like “smart ass” before focusing on his work, listing to you talk idly.

Does Bucky have a foot kink? He’d never thought so. Yeah, it was nice when a dame had pretty hands and feet, but he’d never sought it out.

He absolutely loves your feet though. They’re so soft, so taken care of. You we’re the kind of woman who pampered herself, took care of herself, and it showed. Your lovely shaped toenails we’re painted a vibrant shade of cherry red and he cant stop stealing peeks at your cute, chubby little toes.

It goes on like this for a little over a half an hour.

“Did you tell Steve to invite Sharon to dinner on Saturday?” You question him, your eyes are now screwed shut as you lounge out. Just focusing on the movement of his tender hands.

“Mmhm” Bucky nods “He said he’d make sure to do that”

“I’ll probably just text her myself. You know gramps going to forget” You sigh. Scatter brained, busy ass ‘Captain America’ would forget his head if it wasn’t connected to his body. He was the embodiment of an old man. Hence your nickname.

“Nah, I doubt it. He has a real thing for that gal. He’ll call her”

“Good! I love her. She’s so badass and nice and hot! She’ll do him some good- fuuuuuck Bucky” You moan out the last park as he focuses his attention on your Achellies tendon and ankle. He smirks at his handy work.

“You know you can stop, right? You’ve been at it for a while” You don’t want to say those words, you want him to keep massaging you forever, but your a decent person and he’s been your slave for too long.

“I’m aware” Is his simple answer, as he continues. You sit up, pushing yourself onto your elbows so you can see him.

“I’m serious, baby. When you get tired just tell me”

“How long did you massage my back after that last mission. Two hours? Three? I don’t even remember. You’re always so good to me” you scoff but he continues “You are! So stop your fussin’ and let me take care of ya’ alright?” His tone is smooth like chocolate- but firm. In that way that makes you ache. Makes you want to spread your legs wide for him. Fuck yes, daddy. You loved when he got dominate like this.

“Alright, boo” You squeak and he raises your foot to his mouth and gives the top a kiss. You cant help the surprised giggle that escapes you.

“I love your feet” He declares and you raise an eyebrow.

“That so?” You struggle. Usaully you we’re turned off when guys tried to do the whole foot worship thing with you but something about the look in Bucky’s eyes makes your breathing hard. Everything about this man just turned you on to no end.

“Yeah it is. You keep 'em so pretty. Why’s everything about you so pretty, Y/N?”

You’d never really been with a man that complimented you like Bucky did. It had taken you a while…scratch that. You were still trying to get used to it. This beautiful, Adonis like man praised you like you we’re gods fucking gift. And the hot, sincere look in his eyes backed it. He loved every inch of you. Every cellulite, pudgy inch.

“I don’t know, I’m just blessed I guess” You tease obnoxiously. You weren’t one of those insecure types. Yeah, you had dark thoughts. Everyone did. But you loved yourself. Maybe even more then he did.

He laughs, it rumbles in his chest “Thanks for sharing those blessings, doll face”

You’re almost falling asleep, his skillful hands still working on you when you feel them raising higher and higher. Up your calves, the back of your knees, your thighs, the ones that part widely so that he can slide in between them. Bucky kneads the doughy flesh of your thighs smiling as you start to squirm a little bit.

“Tell me where you hurt” his voice is barley above a whisper. It’s gravely and sexy and it has you biting your lips together. You lift your hips for him as his hands begin to circle the waist band of your leggings, his fingertips tracing the elastic. A whimper slips through the bite you still have on your bottom lip.

“What, baby? Tell me” he taunts and you would be annoyed but you’ve been massaged into a pliant pile of goo. You’d probably do anything he asked you to at this point.

“Take 'em off. Please” you plead and he nods before he slides the black material down your curvy let’s, leaving you only in a pair of high waisted, leopard print panties. He loves these ones, loves the little hot pink bow on the center.

He presses his face against your chest, against the fuzzy material of your cashmere sweater and you lace your fingers through his hair, your claw like nails scratching his scalp soothingly. He lets out a long sigh at that. You know how good that makes him feel, how much he loves it when you play with his hair.

His big hands plane up along your thighs, one of his massive palms on each side, enjoying the supplness of your flesh and you tighten them around his waist, pulling his head deeper to your chest, your fingers knotting in his hair.

Fuck. You just want him closer.

He can’t help but smirk at the neediness, luckily his face is buried in your sweater “You’re such a sweet girl, ya’ know that?”

It’s funny. That he really thinks that. You had always been sharp- bitchy. Bossy. Your opinions too big and your mouth too loud.

“Only for you” you chuckle, your hand running flat along the locks of his hair, as though your petting him. He lifts his head, so that you’re eye level.

“No, I’m serious. What you’re doing for everyone, tryin’ to make sure we celebrate the holidays the right way- it’s really good of you darlin’. I know we’re not the easiest bunch either, when it comes to things like this… Being normal and all that”

You smile. And it’s so bright and warm that he feels his chest get a little tight.

“I mean if we’re being perfectly honest, it’s not completely selfless. I’ve always loved Christmas and I love you. And I’ve never been in love during Christmas time and as cheesy as it sounds I want our first one together to be a good one. Memorable. And normal and happy. Especially since the rest of our relationship is so, like, not. I want you to bake cookies with me, and do lame advant calendars and fuck me by the fireplace. You know. Normal stuff couples do in December ” You explain in a rant, your voice shy, as you stroke his prickly cheek with your finger.

You wish you could have taken a picture of the dopey, lopsided grin that stretches over his face.

“Is that why you’ve been putting mistletoe up everywhere? Trying to get lucky by the fireplace?” Leave it to him to tease you when you’d just bared your whole soul.

“Bucky!” You whine, laughing a little as your hands come up to cover your eyes and reddining cheeks and you start to squirm under him. He’s having none of that though, he presses his jean clad hips hardly down, pinning your lower body with his.

“Hey” he coo’s, trying to pull your hands away from your face with one of his, his other arm is supporting an little of his weight so he doesn’t totally crush you.

He chuckles at your “Fuck off, James!” but manages to pry your hands away from your eyes, his face hovering right over yours. So close that every breath you inhale, you can taste the one he had just exhaled.

“I want that too, darlin’. I haven’t celebrated Christmas in close to seventy years and I’ve gotta say, even though it isn’t actually until next week- this one already tops any one I’ve ever had” he tells you sincerely.

“How?” You scoff. All you’d done was force him to decorate a tree and eat his body weight in baked goods.

“'Cause I have you, of course” he looks down at you, his azure eyes soft and dancing and you shake your head.

“You’re such a big cheese. You know that, old man?” You cup his face in your hands, pressing your lips to his searing ones before he can reply. Bucky hums happily into the kiss, especially when your hands travel down his pack and tug at the hem of his shirt. He seperstes from you, only so that he can pull it off and toss it blindly across the room, your fingers hook in his jeans and boxers and he wiggles so they’re down his ass, once there you can pull them the rest of the way down with your feet. This is what the super soldier does. He can get you naked so fast that you don’t even realize until his sucking on your nipples, your head spinning because when had he even taken off your bra?

“Bucky” you whimper as he takes the bud between his teeth and yanks at it. Like he knows you love.

He’s feeling particularly dominat today, you can tell. Your sleepy, whiny mood bringing out the cocky, alpha nature in him that lied just under the surface.

When he pulls away from your chest that was now an angry red from the attention of his stubbily face he only says two words. “Hands and knees”

That sends a shock through your system. One that seems to cause your pussy to gush and your breath to catch.

You nod eagerly pushing on his shoulder with your dainty hand so that he rolls off of you. Giving you the room you need to get on all fours. Your head is pressed into the the duvet as you rest your chest on the bed, your elbows flat as you arch harshly so that your ass is perched high on your knees. Straight in the air.

Bucky takes a moment to appreciate the curve of your back, the intense arch. The way your plump ass is raised to high for him.

He makes his behind you way on his knees, groaning at the sight, had he ever seen a more perfect ass? So round and wide. Apple shaped and goregous. The kind that brought men of this generation to their knees.

He groans as he starts to palm the cheeks, pulling them apart, slapping them together. Making you gasp everytime. His fingers slip lower, rubbing past your puckered rosebud and into the the steaming, dripping folds.

“So wet” he mutters it almost to himself as his flesh fingers delve in, two of the stretching. Testing the waters.

Your keening sighs let him know that your more then ready so he grabs himself at the base and guides himself to your slick, relishing in how your scorching juices flow over his hardness.

You can’t take it, can’t take the way he’s rubbing his cock all over you without plunging in so to reach a hand down, under you, grasping at the top of his dick and leading him so that he lines up with your hole.

“Please Buck”

That’s all it takes, his hips snap forward and he bottoms out within you quick, you can’t help the yelp that leaves your throat.

Oh shit.

How is it everytime you do doggy you forget how huge he feels in this position? Like he’s going to rip you open. You feel like you can feel him in your belly button.

You might forget, but he doesn’t. He gives your tight little snatch a moment to adjust, his metal arm caressing soothingly down your back as he slowly pulls him self back. Barley able to, with the vice like grip your walls have on him.

“God damn, you’re so tight like this” he hisses through his teeth.

“I-it’s okay. It feels so good, I want it” you reassure him. Stuttering, mind shaky. When you move, your ass pushing back into his lap responds with another fast, snap of his hips and you cry into your pillows.

Bucky is by far FAR the best sex partner you’ve ever been with. He had this ability to play two roles at once.

Like right now; he was pounding you hard into the bed, his pace unforgiving and mind numbing and yet he still had the capacity to his fingers soothingly through your hair. To tell you how goregous you were. You didn’t even know what you were saying back, you’re thoughts lust laden and drugged by how good you felt.

“I love you” you sob to him, lifting your face from the pillows so that he could hear you and he makes a sound, a needy grunt before leaning down so that his chest is pressed into your back and his hands can link with yours.

“I love you too. My beautiful girl. Fuck- you take me so well. It’s like your pussy was made for me. I’ve never- shiiiiiit. Felt anything this good before” he husks into your hair, the slapping sounds of his body crashing into yours filling the air. You gasp, trying your hardest to suck in a full breath but you can’t. Your over heated body is on overdrive. Your core screaming from the fullness.

You desperately grasp at his hands as your legs began to shake violently with everyone of his thrusts, his weight pinning you, his arms caging you.

You try to speak, to tell him how close you were but all that you can manage are little squeaks, his powerful thrusts choking you everytime.

When you cum, it’s white hot and deafening. You can’t hear the loud scream that rips from your thoat. So loud, Bucky’s metal hand covers your mouth in an attempt to quiet you because you’re not the only two on this floor. Tears well in your eyes and your whole body quakes.

“Shh, shh baby you’re okay” he reassures, his pace becoming frantic and sloppy. Like a pool stick missing its cue.

Your head is spinning and you swear, you don’t know how you haven’t fainted yet. The squelching sound of him fucking your overstimulated cunt seemed to be the only thing you can focus on.

“I’m gonna cum” he braces you and you nod numbly.

“Cum inside me. Please Bucky” you plead in a sob and that’s it. He breaks. His head burying itself in your neck as you reach back to pull at his hair. His flesh hand is gripping your shoulder, his mechanical your waist. He’s holding himself as close as possible to you as he emptied inside of you, his sack flexing as the powerful creamy spurts paint your walls.

His gasps are in your ear, his hot breath in your hair. And you’ve never felt more connected to anyone in your life.

It goes on like that for nearly a solid minute, him coming viciously. His cum filling you to the point that it leaks out because your body just can’t take all the genetically modified super soldier has to give.

When he’s finally sated, finally catching his breath he rolls off you and your lungs fill with air. Neither of you can move for a moment, both of you are just trying to find a way to reboot your systems that had just been totally fried.

He manages to form a sentance before you can.

“Are you okay, doll?”

Of course it’s to check on you, because your still face down. You can’t help the giddy bubble of laughter that leaves you as you roll over on your back.

“Oh my god- that was insane” you tell him. Your eyes are still wild. Your breasts jiggling as you suck in labored breaths and run a hand through your hair, staring at the ceiling in total awe.

He’d fucked you stupid.

“I know” he chuckles at the look of total discombobulation on your features and slides his arm under your head, pulling you closer to him, needing the skin contact. “You told me that you wanted to have my babies, ya know”

Your head snaps to his laughing, shit eating face.

“Not-ugh no I didn’t” you deny. You know there had been a minute there where your brain had turned off from the pleasure but you totally didn’t remember saying anything of the sort.

“You did. You also told me that my dick was your favorite thing in this world and you wanted to die with it inside of you”

Your cheeks burn red and you bury your face in his chest because you can tell he’s not making it up.

“Oh my god” you laugh into his collar bone.

“It’s okay, it’s cute. I like watching ’ you lose it like that” he reassures, his metal fingers swirling on your soft tummy. It’s so soothing that you know you’re going to be out like a light soon.

“Hey y/n?” Bucky calls for you, right as you’re about to drift off.

“Mmhmm?”

“Just so ya’ know, I’m game for fuckin’ you by the fire place any day”

You roll your eyes and snuggle closer to him.

-okay so I don’t know how this got so filthy? I was just writing some Christmas fluff and then one thing lead to another and all the sudden the reader is getting drilled doggy style? I don’t even know what to say lol except enjoy I guess?

#bucky barnes x plus size reader #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes smut #mcu smut #mcu imagine #fat and beautiful #Christmas smut lol

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khaotunqs · 7 years

Text

Happy Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day! - A Thorki Edition

In the spirit of celebration and appreciation, I just wanted to do a little list of some (not all, otherwise we’d be here for a month, and in no particular order) of my favorite Thorki fics -- old, new and in progress.

Catalyst by @fourletterwordsstartingwithl

The Seidrmaster and the Stormbringer.

Loki and Thor were brought up in two very different worlds; one in the halls of Asgard and her golden city and the second from within the largest frozen forest in all the nine realms. A chance encounter after becoming lost in the great forest becomes the catalyst for change and they suddenly find themselves mere pieces in a chess game, far greater than they ever thought possible.

Thirst and the Water Quest by @darklittlestories

Loki is the Agent of Asgard, Awesomeness, and Asskicking.

His motivations are Absolutely, Totally Pure AF™. Definitely he lives to serve the goodness. But if the affection in Thor's ridiculously beautiful eyes gives him slightly inappropriate feels, that's mere coincidence. And so the sexiest super spy embarks on a quest for the All-Mother and lives for the reward.

if this is hell (then let me stay) by @thorduna

“Where you going?” the driver asks as they pull off and start driving down the dark road.

“I don’t know. Wherever.”

Thor picks Loki up from the side of the road, saving him from the vicious cold. Loki is prepared to pay a lot for it - but not this much.

The Witch’s Room by @amethyst--witch

Thor isn't too fond of New York, even after living there for a few weeks. Still, certain things make it manageable– Steve and Bucky, for one, college friends who happened to have a spare room in their apartment, his new job (even if it is a little stressful), and in particular, his new roommate: Loki, a sardonic college kid with an emphasis on privacy (Thor doesn't really mind– well, not at first, anyway).

Side Projects by @laydee-liesmith (currently on temporary hiatus)

Now, Loki tries to ignore the team of workers who have taken over his back-yard as they embark on a much-needed reno project. But, the one with the long blonde hair and the booming voice has taken a special liking to him. He flirts, he winks; he goes out of his way to tease Loki. Loki finds himself spending more time talking to "Thor" than he would like. He also finds himself blushing around Thor more than he would like. One day, Thor stumbles across Loki doing something he really shouldn't be... and suddenly Thor has decided to make Loki his after-work "project."

Stranger in a Strange Land by @pohjanneito

He was a big bear of a man. His shoulders alone seemed to take the space of two grown men where he was seated on his high stool, leaning against the counter. His long, blond hair was half-hidden under a black fur-felt Stetson, his face covered in thick, bushy bristles.

Loki drew his hand back, and as if sensing his curious gaze, the man turned his head to glance over his shoulder. His blue eyes met Loki's from beneath the rim of his hat, and Loki felt his stomach jolt at the contact.

You’re All I Want, so Bring Me The Dawn by @thisdorkyblogthing

Loki grew up being told that the bond between an omega and an alpha was unbreakable.

Well, that's a lie. A big fat lie.

Lullaby by @radiatorfromspace

Thor is babysitting his younger brother Loki tonight. They have the house to themselves, parents won't be back until 1AM, and Thor looks at Loki the way he should be looking at girls.

At girls his own age.

Friends and Neighbors by @rynfinity

She has a faint accent Odin can’t quite place, except to be certain she’s not from around here. Finnish, maybe. “My oldest is twelve, and my middle son is ten.” Her son’s tiny hands come up to grab at her bracelets. "They like their teachers, but I miss having them around. And I could use their help with the baby.”

“They don’t go to school here, then,” he asks.

“No,” Farbauti says. She gently works her jewelry out of Loki’s shell pink, chubby hands. “They live with their father.”

Only the broken hearts (make you beautiful) by grimmie_me

Thor is a doctor who treats Loki when he's found unconscious on the street after being brutalized by a client. Later Thor can't help but look for Loki in the streets and when he finds him, he becomes a client, though everybody, including Loki, is quite surprised that a man like him doesn't want a better whore to have fun with. Some time later Thor takes Loki away from his occupation and tries his best to give him a normal life, which is hard for a person who's not used to it and doesn't find himself worthy.

mouth full of white lies by @thorkidumpster

"No," Loki insists. "No. I'm not meeting him again. He's got two kids, for fuck's sake! He fucked me into the bed, then called them right as I was leaving to say goodnight!"

"Sounds like..." Sigyn mutters off-hand, flipping through her texts with a pink-painted nail. "That he's looking to be a daddy of three.

crash into me by @raven-brings-light

Thor moves back into his childhood home to take care of Odin in his final months. Putting up with the old man's moods and taking care of his failing body is stressful enough - and then Thor meets Loki.

Loki is the son of Odin's neighbor and he pushes himself into Thor's life with all the dogged determination of youth and the subtlety of an avalanche.

He's the prettiest thing Thor has ever seen. He's also 16.

Thor is fucked.

the ashtray by @curds-writes

There’s a boy in the garden that Thor doesn’t recognise.

facing the vast by needleyecandy

England has just declared war on Napoleon, Naval captains are winning their laurels on a daily basis, and Thor's ship is ordered to the South Seas to seek out a lost scientific vessel. It is an assignment for an old man, but the Admiralty will hear no reason. All hope of glory lost, he takes to sea in a foul temper.

Loki is an artist employed by the naturalist who accompanies HMS Hope on the expedition of rescue and research. He is to make quick and accurate sketches of those plants that catch his employer's eye. For the first time in his life, the rest of his time is his own.

Back home, their paths never would have crossed, but life at sea is different, and their shared journey brings many kinds of discovery.

fimbulwinter by @illwynd

Fimbulwinter, the winter without end, has begun. The people of the village have somehow endured. But then one day, Thor, born at the end of the last summer, meets a stranger in the woods.

Number One Contender for My Heart by @guardianinthesky

Loki has never been into sports, but one day Amora drags him to a pro wrestling event, promising him lots of hot, sweaty guys. He finds himself less than impressed until a particular wrestler named Thor shows up.

cocky boys by @incredifishface

"Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power" (Oscar Wilde)

In which Thor and Loki are the top stars in a studio of online porn, famously hate each other, but by popular vote they get paired to perform together in the Christmas Eve Live Event, and are not happy about it.

Eeee, sorry! This list got long. THERE ARE A LOT OF FICS THAT I LOVE OKAY. And honestly, this list just barely scratches the surface. Anyway.

Thank you to the amazing fanfiction writers that put their blood, sweat and tears (sometimes literally) into creating amazing works for us to read and savor and cry about. You’re fucking amazing, and I hope you really know just how loved and appreciated you are!

Happy Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day!

#thorki #fic recs #long post #happy fanfiction writers appreciation day!

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imaginetonyandbucky · 7 years

Note

Either Bucky or Tony is very shy when thi gs turn towards cuddling,kissing,nudity,sex and the other helps them overcome it

As usual, please remember that unanswered prompts aren’t bad prompts. Sometimes, our authors/artists just don’t get inspired, and after a certain amount of time it makes more sense to post them as unanswered.

If anyone wants to fill one of the unanswered prompts, go right ahead. And if you send us the link to it once you’ve posted it, we’ll even share it here on the blog!

~ ~ ~

Imagine: Tony and Bucky come out publicly after being together for years and they gotta deal with the backlash from public figures. But then a couple weeks later same-sex-marriage is legalized and fluff because Bucky proposes?

~ ~ ~

out of all of the Avengers Tony is actually the most health conscious. when the others moved into the tower they thought he wasn't taking care of himself but he actually takes good care of his body. and for a good reason, his immune system is all shot due to the reactor so when he starts showing symptoms of a bad case of the flu and he Bucky take care to make it so it doesn't get bad. however it sneaks up on him and hits him like a freight train, 103 degree fever, and all.

~ ~ ~

Somehow I can't stop imagine Tony as a Despicable Me dad. Only that the minions are his boots and those cute flying batteries from his sorcerer supreme alternative-self. And I can't stop thinking of Bucky as a teacher to those children that gets somehow sucked up into the world of this very strange and crazy man and can't help fall in love with first his children and than this strange guy and his even stranger companions.

~ ~ ~

(Mind the cut, mobile users!)

Imagine a parent trap-ish AU where Bucky's kid and Tony's kid are friends at school (their age is up to you :) and they're total besties and they know their dads are totally into each other even though they won't admit it, so it would be super awesome if their dads get married and they become a family right?? :DDD

~ ~ ~

Hello lovelies, I love the work that you all do, I was hoping you could do a story where tony has asthma due to the fact part of his lungs were taken out to make room for the reactor. Bucky freaks out when he learn that he has asthma and starts to mother hen Tony. How tony react is up to the writer.

~ ~ ~

how about a The Martian AU? Bucky and Tony are apart of the Hermes crew and were sent to Mars along with the others ( Steve being the commander ). Tony and Bucky were already a couple when they left earth and Bucky planned on asking Tony to marry him when they got back but then Tony is lost and presumed dead. then they find out that Tony is not dead but surviving on Mars like a badass, they get him back and Bucky finally gets to propose. Tony says yes of course!

~ ~ ~

Tony suddenly loses all of his money (only for a short while) And he gets super sad and scared, because he just knows the Avengers will now leave him. They have no more reason to stay right? They don't like him, so now they have the perfect opportunity to leave. He can't provide for them anymore. Who cares that he loves them so much? But to his suprise the moment they find out they just start helping and when they realise what he had thought they start hugging and telling him that they love him.

~ ~ ~

Hi first I want to say how grateful I am for all the amazing stories all the authors write, I can't get enough of them. (Imagine that when Bucky loses control of the Winter Soldier,he seeks physical challenge not trough fight but trough sex,for some reason he keeps finding Tony for that,but when he comes to he doesn't remember that. So tony thinks bucky only wants sex. I know the matter of consent is unclear here so I would understand if you decide to ignore this)

~ ~ ~

(part 1) AU where Tony is still a child when the Winter Soldier kills his parents. Because Bucky is brainwashed, he has to follow the order to kill them, but instinctively tries to hurt as few people as the orders let him (like shooting through Natasha and letting her live in MCU). Tony is in the same car when his parents are killed, but doesn't see much. afterwards, Bucky gets Tony out of the wreckage and to safety, and takes care of him until emergency services arrive, and vanishes. (part 2) Over the years, Tony may start to notice strange things happening around him that prevent him from being hurt in accidents.

~ ~ ~

Everybody adores Tony. That means everybody wants Tony Time he and Nat watch ocean documentaries, cuddling. Steve and he draw together, Tony blue prints, Steve, usually another teammate. He bakes with Clint, science time w/ Bruce, falling asleep on Thor as he tells stories about the stars. There is always some sort of cuddling involved with Tony Time (Tony loves it) and Bucky gets the least and is grumpy about it cuz he loves Tony and wants to hold him all the time and Tony is oblivious of this.

~ ~ ~

Imagine Bucky being the only one on the team able to handle things to Tony. Maybe the team (or pepper) realize before Tony, and Bucky not understanding why it's a big deal (or on the contrary Bucky being really proud and happy, he is the only one).... Yeah anything about Tony trusting Bucky to handle him things... Thanks!!! You guys are doing an amazing job and all your fics and drawings are beautiful!

~ ~ ~

My last Prompt of 2015 goes to you lovelies! Bucky is tired of his dads (the howlies), Steve, Natasha, Sam& even Clint! giving him grief over being single every effing holiday. (They just want him to be happy, but damn.) This weekend is the annual 4th of July get away to the family cabin. Well this year he's bringing his fiance! Okay fake-fiance. Tony the sexy mechanic, he flirts with on the way to work. Only he hasn't exactly asked Tony yet.. Oops! Thank you for all the lovely fics this year!

~ ~ ~

Can you do one where Tony is sent back in time and falls in love with Bucky and when he comes back to the present he falls in love with James ( the name Bucky prefers to go by after regaining his memories) as well?

~ ~ ~

Tony takes his baby daughter to an art gallery (at the insistence of Pepper), and Bucky is there to support Steve. In front of an ambiguous piece of modern art, the baby points to a splotch in the painting and deems it "poo." Unfortunately this gets Tony into a bit of fuss with the artist, and that's when Bucky decides to help the gorgeous man he's been eyeing all night instead of the art.

~ ~ ~

Tony and Bucky got together but maybe it was at a bad time, where one or both of them are emotionally or perhaps physically vulnerable, so it's mostly arguments and they break it off but after a couple of years of angst and avoidance, they decide to try again

~ ~ ~

Imagine medieval au where King/Prince Tony and King/Prince Steve are arranged to be married but Tony fell for Steve's royal knight and best friend Bucky instead (despite them arguing a lot)

~ ~ ~

Maybe Avengers using pick up lines on Tony or Bucky for Bucky or Tony?

~ ~ ~

Avengers being mean shits and flirting with Tony just to make Bucky jealous, cause they are so done with his pinning.

~ ~ ~

Tony is acting just fine ang happy, but then something triggers him, so he runs to the lab. A little bit latter JARVIS ask Bucky to go to the lab. When he gets down there he find Tony in the middle of a panic attack. Fluff angst ensues.

~ ~ ~

Imagine Tony being totally annoyed with having to help with the whole de-program Bucky shit. Really he just sits there and reads a Russian dictionary out loud and looks if Barnes reacts ... well Tony is annoyed until he finds the one phrase a young HYDRA recruit planted in the Winter Soldier programming for shit and giggles, the one that no one at HYDRA ever found out about, the one phrase Bucky has no bad memories of - the instand-orgasm-phrase! …lol

~ ~ ~

Imagine prince Anthony is betrothed to somebody that he has never met and he does not want to marry so he runs away you can have this go anyway that you want

~ ~ ~

Prompt: Bucky has a talent for making good coffee. Amazing coffee, really. Tony, as everyone knows, has a coffee problem. (And if that makes for a great excuse to spend more time with Bucky, well...) (Basically, fluffy coffee-themed shenanigans? Please?)

~ ~ ~

Bucky works at an animal shelter, tony finds a stray dog and they hit it off during the check up so tony actively seeks dogs around the city's streets in order to bring them to him to spend more time with him

~ ~ ~

Prompt: Winter Soldier goes to kill the Starks, but (Hydra) Tony is with them. "Mission compromised. Report to handler Stark for punishment".

~ ~ ~

Bucky and Tony start a relationship post cacw. Tony doesn't tell Bucky that he and Steve had a relationship because he is afraid he will be like Steve and choose everyone over him

~ ~ ~

Post civil war Tony no longer trusts the team. He pretends like everything is normal only trusting Bucky even more so than he did the team before. The team realises how bad they fucked up and they can't fix it.

~ ~ ~

Oh man I'm so pumped prompts are open again okay so I've been dying for a Mr and Mrs Smith au with these two! But instead of two organizations its Iron Man doing his own thing vs Hydra (who Bucky thought was doing the right thing) ft Avengers trying to bring them both in (on the team or to jail no one is sure). Thanks!

~ ~ ~

"The Last of Us" AU, where someone (Tony or anyone else) is immune to the cordyceps infection and the other person(s) tasked with the job of taking them to wherever they're going to create a cure.

~ ~ ~

P1 Can you Write one about Tony who is blind from birth (Whether the team knows or if its a quiet afair is yours) but still manage to fall in love with Bucky voice and Bucky doesn't understand why Tony never see him but gets a gloom face when he talk P2 when in reallity thas's Tony's face of trying not to show how that voice makes him feel Thank you Btw your blog is amazin & there isn't enough words to say how much we love you! & how we wait for 11am to read all of you or how many times we read u

~ ~ ~

Can we get a sequel to the prompt where Tony is sneaking around so Bucky follows him and finds that he volunteers to work with kids (sciencing). Maybe where they do adopt Bruce after their heart to heart.

~ ~ ~

Hello, how about young (18-19) Tony being Ironman and an avenger and lots of UST between Tony and Bucky. And the team finds out that Tony has been trained as a spy and that he sometimes works for SHIELD. Cue badass Tony and worried/protective Bucky.

~ ~ ~

#winteriron #tony x bucky #tony stark #bucky barnes #unanswered prompts #Anonymous

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southsidestory · 7 years

Text

blind but for blue

Rating: Teen

Warnings: suicide, minor character death

Part 1 of the Day After Forever series

I believe there is penance in yearning.

There is poverty in giving too much of your heart.

{1929 — 1931}

Steve’s mother likes to say he’s a miracle. Most babies born fourteen weeks early don’t survive, and she thinks it’s some kind of gift from the Lord that he lived.

Steve doesn’t feel like much of a miracle. He’s been half-deaf, crooked-backed, anemic, and asthmatic all his life. When he was seven, a nasty bout of strep throat turned into scarlet fever, then rheumatic fever. Thanks to that run of luck, he now enjoys a weak heart. And on top of everything else, he’s color blind.

By eight, Steve stops praying to get better. He isn’t like other children, who recover from colds in a matter of days. There’s no cure around the corner, no medicine that will transform him into a healthy boy. He’s sick and in pain, and he’ll stay that way for the rest of his life.

By eleven, Steve understands that he’ll die young. He overhears Doc Wallace telling Ma that he might make it to thirty, but only with God’s grace. Math isn’t his strong suit, but Bucky helped him pass the test on fractions, and all Steve can think is that a third of his life is already gone.

There are so many things he wants to do, wants to be, but somewhere there’s a clock counting down, numbering his days. There’s too little time, Steve knows. Whatever he was meant to become, he won’t live long enough to find out what it is.

“James Buchanan Barnes, get your tail in here right now, young man!”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he leans out the open door of Steve’s apartment and yells across the hallway. “What is it, Ma?”

Steve peeks out too, curious about all the fuss, because it isn’t like Winnie to shout in a public space like that.

She points a finger at Bucky and says, “You know very well what it is. Unless you expect me to believe that a fairy took my daughter and left a hairless changeling in her place.”

“She ain’t totally hairless,” Bucky says, smiling his innocent smile (the one that means he’s been up to no good). “I just gave her a trim while she was sleeping.”

Steve stifles a laugh. Much as she loves him, Winnie already thinks he’s a bad influence on Bucky, and he doesn’t want to give her anymore fuel for that fire—mostly because she’s right.

Bucky bites his lip, and Steve notices that it looks swollen and a little darker. Reddened, probably—not that he can see red, but he knows it’s the color of blood and maple leaves and Snow White’s mouth.

Bucky leans toward Steve’s left ear (because his hearing is better there than in his right) and says, “I oughta go. Face the music and all.”

Steve shakes his head. Even when he’s knee-deep in mischief, Bucky somehow manages to charm his way out of trouble. “Good luck, pal.”

Bucky smirks, salutes him, and runs down the hall to manage his mother’s wrath.

Then Steve is alone, and even though his coldwater apartment is small, he suddenly feels surrounded by too much space.

He’s fresh out of clean paper, so he digs one of his lazier sketches out of the box under his bed and uses the blank back for something new. Ma hates it when he sits on the fire escape; it’s too old and rusty to trust, she says. But his mother isn’t here, so Steve takes his art supplies outside and draws the part of Red Hook that he can see from this perch. It’s a landscape he’s sketched a hundred times, but each version is different, a unique moment captured on paper.

He wonders how it might keep changing over the next ten, twenty, thirty years, and if he’ll be around to see any of it.

Steve’s ma and Bucky’s get on like a house on fire. It’s no surprise that they became fast friends, two Irish women living on the same floor of a falling-down Brooklyn tenement, with husbands off fighting in the war to end all wars. Neither of them really came back: Steve’s father was returned to his pregnant wife in a coffin, and Bucky’s dad lost something of himself overseas.

Or, as Bucky puts it, “He left all his gumption in Europe.”

It’s not a nice way for Bucky to talk about his father, but Steve knows that he isn’t exactly wrong. Even on good days, George Barnes flinches at loud noises and seems to miss half of what folks say to him. On bad days, he can’t even get out of bed.

Steve knows these things, because the Barnes’s apartment door stays open to him, just like his door stays open to Bucky’s family. Somehow, over the years, their two homes have fused into one, and there’s little room for secrets between them.

Tonight, he and Bucky are sleeping on the floor of the Barnes’s living room. Bucky made a nest for them out of couch cushions, crocheted blankets, and pillows he stole from his sisters’ room. It’s warm, surprisingly plush for a makeshift bed, and it smells like Bucky.

Steve is eleven, Bucky twelve, and they’ve been told often enough that they’re getting too old for this: sleeping side by side, sharing space like the brothers they’re not. Neither his mother nor Bucky’s has outright banned this bad habit, but Steve thinks that’s only because they still expect their sons to grow out of it. That’s exactly what Bucky might do, and it scares Steve, because he’s sure he could happily sleep like this every night for the rest of his life.

“Stevie? You still awake?”

Bucky’s voice sounds too hushed, even for a whisper in the middle of the night, and Steve can barely understand him.

“Yeah, but I can’t hear you so well.”

“Sorry,” Bucky says. He scoots closer, until Steve can feel warm breath against his cheek.

“What do you got to say that’s more important than sleeping?” Steve asks.

Bucky pokes him in the ribs. “Nothing, really, but my mind’s all over the place. And it’s not like beauty rest could do your ugly mug any good.”

Steve smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. “I can’t help it if you got all the looks and I got all the brains.”

“Real funny,” Bucky says. “Got ourselves a regular comedian here.”

He knows Bucky’s most ticklish spots: the taut muscles above his knees and the soft belly that he’s self-conscious about. Last summer, Mary Katherine poked the puppy-fat that lingers around Bucky’s waist and oinked. He’s been sensitive about being touched there ever since, but he still lets Steve tickle him, burying his face in the couch cushions to muffle his laughter.

Then Bucky pulls Steve into a headlock and ruffles his hair. It annoys him, the way Bucky’s manhandling always does, but tonight something about it feels good too. A fluttering thrill in his stomach that makes him shiver. So Steve kicks and struggles, tries to tear himself away. It’s no use, of course; he’s too weak to break free from Bucky.

“Quit it,” Steve hisses, and Bucky finally lets go of him.

“Aww, c’mon, don’t be sore at me. I was just kidding around.”

Steve turns away, giving his back and his bad ear to Bucky. Even if he says anything else, Steve probably won’t be able to hear it.

He and Bucky don’t last one day as altar boys. Father McMullen puts Steve in charge of holding a thurible full of burning incense, and when he starts sneezing in front of the whole congregation, Bucky cracks up laughing. Then Steve starts laughing too, so hard that his belly aches and he has to double over. It’s hilarious until his mother drags the two of them out of church by their ears, calling them heathens. It probably doesn’t help their show of remorse that her threats of eternal damnation only send them both into another fit of snorts and giggles.

Later that night, when Bucky sneaks into Steve’s room, he says, “If laughing sends you to hell, then I don’t think I’d want to go somewhere as boring as heaven.”

Steve would like to agree, but now all he can think about is the afterlife that looms closer with every fever that burns through him. Maybe he ought to behave better in church, and stop battering Sister Bethany with unanswerable questions about God’s goodness in such an unfair world. Just in case.

“Heaven sounds pretty nice to me,” Steve says. “Besides, it’s the only chance I’d get to meet my dad. Wouldn’t want to miss that, you know?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “S’pose not.”

Steve squints, trying to bring Bucky’s face into better focus, but it’s impossible to make out fine details in the dark.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks.

Bucky pulls away, turns onto his back, and stares up at the ceiling.

“Sometimes I wish my father was… gone,” he whispers. “He doesn’t want to be alive anyway. I’ve heard him say so before, when he thought I wasn’t listening. The girls are afraid to talk to him, because sometimes he hits us when he forgets where he is. Not on purpose, but it still doesn’t feel too good. And it hurts Ma to see him so sad all the time.”

It hurts you too, Steve wants to say, but he doesn’t think Bucky would appreciate hearing that right now.

Instead, he snuggles up to Bucky’s side and says, “It doesn’t make you a bad person to think that. It’s gotta be hard, watching somebody you love fall apart.”

The next day, they pretend they never talked about it, and report to Father McMullen for their punishment.

He tasks Bucky with scrubbing the cathedral floors every Saturday for a month. Steve insists on receiving equal punishment, since he was just as disruptive as Bucky, but Father McMullen refuses.

“Steven, you have a crooked spine, nervous lungs, and a damaged heart. Scrubbing the floor would be far more painful for you than it is for James, and there’s nothing equal about that,” says Father McMullen.

All Steve hears is that he’s too frail to do anything, and he knows that isn’t true. His body might be fragile, but he’s got enough will to make up for it.

He says as much to Bucky as soon as they step out of the church. Bucky looks at him like he’s an idiot and cuffs him on the ear, not quite light enough to be gentle.

“Hardheaded, that’s what you are, but all the stubbornness in the world won’t cure you,” Bucky says. “Pushing yourself too hard only makes you sicker. You’ve got to accept that someday, Steve. If you don’t, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

So what? Steve thinks. His unreliable body will do the job soon enough anyway.

He pushes Bucky’s chest. “Everybody else thinks I can’t take care of myself. You don’t need to say it too.”

Steve leaves before Bucky can answer. They don’t talk for days, but by Mass the following week they sit next to each other in the pews, biting back laughter every time their eyes meet.

Even though Steve stays in Father McMullen’s bad books more often than not, he loves going to Mass. Maybe it’s the artistic instinct that he can’t seem to shake, no matter how many bullies beat him up for girlishness, but Steve is awed by the beauty of the church.

The ceiling looms high overhead, dwarfing the people inside, and it reminds Steve that things greater than himself exist. He finds the strangest measure of peace in feeling small before God; in this way, he’s just like everyone else.

The rose window is his favorite part of the cathedral. On sunny days, it shines like a blossoming sun, too bright to look at directly. He’s heard that the window is even more impressive if you can see its rainbow reflections, but Steve can’t picture it. Heaven is easier to imagine than a life in full color.

Believing gives Steve the kind of purpose and comfort that he needs to get through bad days. When he’s bedridden, too faint to stand and strangling on his own breath, he tries to remember that he’s not alone. It helps, if only a little.

A funny thing about the Barnes family is that they’re half Catholic and half Jewish. Neither Winnie nor George was willing to give up their own faith when it came to raising their children, so they worked it out that Bucky and his sisters would be both.

Bucky whines about having to go to temple on Saturdays and church on Sundays, but Steve can tell that it’s an empty sort of protest. If Bucky really hated it, he’d stay at home, and God Himself couldn’t change his mind.

Yom Kippur falls on October 14th, and Bucky spends most of the day hiding out in Steve’s room, complaining about his empty stomach.

“I don’t see how starving myself for a day is supposed to get me closer to God,” Bucky says. He sounds grumpy in the particular way that only his hunger brings out.

“Well it’s the Day of Atonement, isn’t it?” Steve asks. “That’s what your Dad said. Sounds like a little penance would make sense.”

Bucky throws himself across Steve’s narrow bed, unbuttons his shirt, and kicks off his shoes. “My father won’t open his mouth to say ‘boo’ three hundred sixty-four days out of the year, but on Yom Kippur he turns into a school marm. ‘You can’t wash today, James. You can’t wear those shoes, James. You can’t eat a goddamn cracker, James.’”

Bucky has been throwing around ‘goddamn’ all day, and Steve figures it’s some kind of secret rebellion, since he hasn’t yet worked up the courage to say it in front of his parents.

“It’s pretty important to him, I guess,” Steve says.

He sits on the edge of his bed, unlaces his shoes, and swats Bucky’s calf. “Make some room for me on my own bed, James.”

Bucky lets out a long-suffering groan and kicks Steve in the ribs—softly, of course, because he wouldn’t dare risk hurting him for real. Steve wishes, that just once, he could convince Bucky not to handle him with kid gloves.

“Shit on a shingle, can you not do that?” Bucky asks. “It’s so weird when you call me James.”

“Why? It’s what everyone else calls you,” Steve says.

Bucky kicks him again, even gentler this time. Then he drapes his feet across Steve’s lap and says, “Yeah, well, you’re not everyone else, now are you?”

Steve’s cheeks grow warm. Even though Bucky said that blithely, like it doesn’t mean anything special, it means a lot to him.

“Put your stinky feet somewhere else. I’m not your footstool,” Steve says.

His voice cracks on the last syllable, like it’s been doing lately when he’s nervous. Because Bucky is a jackass, he laughs. Steve wants to tell him to shut up, but he’s afraid his voice will break on the anger that’s burning in his chest, welling up in his throat.

Bucky’s voice seemed to drop an octave overnight, skipping right over the wavering pitch that’s been humiliating Steve for the last three months. A small, petty part of him resents Bucky for that—and so much else: his strong body and handsome face; how he picks up new skills like he learned them in a past life, so quickly that it’s almost eerie; the way he always manages to sail his way out of trouble, charming everyone from classmates to nuns with nothing but an endearing smile. It all comes so easily to Bucky, while Steve works twice as hard only to be overlooked, bullied, and mocked.

It might be hard not to hate Bucky if Steve didn’t love him so much.

They lie in bed, halfway dozing under the shine of sunlight too sharp for autumn. By the time the day wanes into dusk, Bucky has fallen into a catnap. Steve feels him shifting against his side, sleepily searching for a comfortable spot—and then Bucky wraps an arm around Steve’s waist.

They’ve slept alongside each other for years, a practice his mother started them on as babies. According to Winnie, Steve wailed like a banshee whenever he slept anywhere besides Bucky’s bed. Ma says they worried at first, because Steve was a fragile baby, underweight and already plighted by a cocktail of ailments. Bucky was sixteen months older than Steve, and like most toddlers, he had a tendency to grab things too forcefully. But by all accounts, Bucky behaved like an angel with Steve by his side. Never held him too tightly or played with him too roughly, not even once.

Steve has spent a whole lifetime sharing beds with Bucky, but it’s never been quite like this. That fluttering feeling has settled in his stomach again, and somehow it makes him nervous and happy at once.

Without giving it much thought, Steve leans back, settling his body more closely to the curve of Bucky’s: head nestled against the slope where shoulder meets throat, back aligned to Bucky’s chest, their legs tangled together. They’re pressed close, every inch of Steve cuddled up to Bucky, and he feels so safe and peaceful, caught in a warm embrace.

He’s almost asleep when he feels Bucky startle awake. There’s a moment when they’re both frozen, still entwined—and then Bucky cusses, jerks away, and says, “Eww,” in the same way he does when he smells something gross.

Steve doesn’t dare say anything, because if he opens his mouth, he doesn’t know what kind of wounded noise will come out.

Bucky scrambles off the bed, shuddering like there’s a bug under his shirt, and says, “If you ever tell anybody that happened, I’ll skin you alive and make a jacket out of the leather.”

Bucky laughs when he says it, but Steve can tell he’s serious about wanting to keep this quiet.

He’s known Bucky too long not to recognize the disgust in his expression. Steve can’t bear to look him in the eye right now, because his whole body feels heavy, weighed down by shame.

It’s too messy to parse out and make sense of, so Steve pulls his shoes on and says, “We better get back to your place before our mothers come looking for us.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “Don’t want to miss the honey cakes.”

Steve does his best not to think about the way he cuddled close to Bucky, seeking out something he’d rather not acknowledge. It’s a hard memory to lock away, but not as difficult to forget as the look of revulsion on Bucky’s face when he woke up and found himself entangled with Steve.

A perfect distraction presents itself on October 29th, but it’s not nearly worth the trouble it brings.

The stock market crashes two weeks after Yom Kippur. The papers print nothing else, and it’s all their parents talk about. Steve doesn’t understand how one bad day on Wall Street could be such a disaster for everyone, but hard times answer that question quick enough.

Shanty towns pop up all over New York, tiny cities within the city, where homeless folks sleep in scrap metal shacks. Most people call them Hoovervilles, after the president, but Steve doesn’t see how that’s very fair, since Herbert Hoover didn’t crash the stock market. He watches grown men stand in line at soup kitchens, waiting for a free meal. By his twelfth birthday, Steve, his mother, and the whole Barnes family are standing in those lines too.

Ma keeps working at Kings County Hospital, even though most of the nurses got fired. Doc Wallace says she only held onto her position because she’s the best nurse they’ve got. Her pay gets cut, though, and when Steve outgrows his old back brace, she cries because she can’t afford a new one for him.

Winnie loses her job at the textile factory. She starts waitressing at the kind of bar decent women shouldn’t even see the inside of, and spends her days cleaning houses for all the rich ladies in Brooklyn Heights. George searches for work, but there aren’t many jobs for a man with no skills beyond trench warfare, and besides, he’s too anxious to last more than a month anywhere.

Bucky drops out of school in the spring, two weeks before he turns fourteen, so that he can take a construction job for the WPA. The classroom feels empty without Bucky sitting at the desk to his left, the lessons slow and boring. They barely see each other these days, because Bucky spends most of his free time taking care of his sisters.

“Dad needs to get off his ass and work,” Bucky says. “Ma is just about killing herself raising the girls, keeping house, and cleaning for half of Brooklyn Heights. I’m busting my butt too, building stupid sidewalks that nobody needs. We shouldn’t have to do all that while he sleeps day and night.”

Steve knows it’s not his business, but George is a kind, quiet fella, and it’s not fair to blame him for being sick. “Your dad can’t help that he’s shell-shocked, Bucky.”

“What do you know about it?” Bucky snaps. “I’m gonna be a damn idiot reading kids’ books for the rest of my life, thanks to his useless ass.”

Steve ducks his head, because Bucky is right that he can’t understand. Ma insists that he has to stay in school, and even if she changed her mind, nobody would hire an eighty-pound asthmatic with a bent back and heart trouble. Steve’s broken body keeps protecting him from the challenges other people have to face, and he hates that even more than the pain it causes him.

Still, he worries about George. Steve knows what it’s like to be so sick that you burden your family. He wonders if Bucky thinks he’s lazy too, but he can’t bring himself to ask.

Six months after Bucky takes the WPA job, George stops being useless; he puts a gun in his mouth and pulls the trigger while his family is at church.

Steve missed Mass because he’s still recovering from a cold, so he’s the one who hears the gunshot. He hurries over to the Barnes’s apartment, heart beating an erratic rhythm in his chest.

He finds George in the bathroom, a grey (red) stain splattered across the wall behind his head. Steve has the stupid, passing thought that it almost looks like a paint-speckled canvas that he once saw at the MET.

Then he closes George’s eyes—pale, heavy-lidded, shaped exactly like Bucky’s—and takes three deep puffs from his inhaler until the threat of an asthma attack passes.

Mrs. Copeland, his downstairs neighbor, finds him in the bathroom. She screams so loud that it hurts even Steve’s ears, then covers her mouth with the back of her hand and makes a choking sound. Maybe she’s trying not to throw up.

Steve wonders, in a vague, distant sort of way, why he isn’t screaming or puking. Boys aren’t supposed to cry, but he knows—knew—George, grew up down the hall from the Barnes family. So shouldn’t he feel something?

Mrs. Copeland takes a few deep breaths, wipes at her nose, and says, “You shouldn’t have to look at this, Steven. Come with me, and I’ll call the police.”

Steve shakes his head. “Bucky told me that Jewish folks don’t leave their dead alone. I think it might be real disrespectful to run off with him like this.”

Shmira, Steve remembers. He thinks it means watching.

“Then let me get Mr. Hoffman to keep watch,” says Mrs. Copeland.

“No, I should stay,” Steve says. “I knew George better than anybody besides his family. But it’d help a lot it if you’d go to our church and tell Winnie what happened.”

He can’t stand the thought of her walking in on this sight, much less Bucky or the girls.

Mrs. Copeland frowns, but it’s sympathetic and soft around the edges. “Of course I will. And I’ll send up Mr. Hoffman to help watch over George with you.”

“Thanks,” Steve says.

After Mrs. Copeland leaves, he takes George’s hand. It’s growing cooler by the moment. Mr. Hoffman joins him in keeping a vigil over the body, but he doesn’t speak. He simply stands aside and lets Steve say goodbye.

When he touches George’s chest, it’s warm. As if the space around his heart hasn’t yet caught up to the coldness that’s settling in everywhere else, and Steve realizes that death doesn’t happen all at once. It creeps over a body, shutting down each part, piece by piece, until life leaks out entirely.

He thinks of all the times that George sat in a corner chair, staring off into a distance that no one else could see, a look of pure yearning on his face. Like he’d glimpsed some peaceful paradise, but it was too far away to reach.

Maybe he’s found it now. Steve hopes so.

George left four letters on the kitchen table: for Steve and his mother, Winnie, the girls, and Bucky. Steve can see from the thickness of the envelopes that the letter to Bucky is by far the longest, and he wonders what George had to say to the son he always disappointed.

A police officer and the Barnes’s rabbi take his body to the synagogue for preparation. Steve and his mother stay up all night, mourning with their neighbors—their family in all but blood.

Winnie holds Miriam and Delilah close, while Steve’s mother cradles little Rebecca, who isn’t yet old enough to understand what’s happening.

Bucky has been sitting on the floor, elbows propped on his knees, staring straight ahead, for the better part of the last three hours. All day, he’s refused to comfort his sisters, let his mother hold him, or talk to anyone. When Steve tried to touch his shoulder, he flinched and told him to go away.

After Winnie puts the girls to bed, she walks over to Bucky and says, “You can’t sit there all night, James.”

“Watch me.” His voice sounds flat and unfeeling, so colorless that it barely sounds like Bucky.

Winnie squeezes her eyes shut tight, like she’s trying to stave off more tears.

Steve wants to shake Bucky. It’s not fair, he knows, because Bucky just lost his father, and however he feels right now should be respected. But it’s hard to watch him hurt his his mother when she’s already suffering so much.

Winnie turns away. She probably doesn’t want Bucky to see her crying again, but it doesn’t matter. He isn’t even looking in her direction.

Steve’s mother sets her hand on Winnie’s shoulder and whispers, “Let him be, Win. You need to rest, and James wants to be alone right now.”

Bucky is still sitting on the floor with a terrifyingly blank expression on his face when Ma pulls Steve back to their own apartment. For once, the doors of their respective homes stay shut, and he wishes it was enough to keep the Barnes’s grief from seeping across the hall.

Ma kisses him on the forehead as he climbs into bed. “You were so strong today, Steve. You stayed with George all that time, just to make sure his faith was honored, and I haven’t seen anything so brave since your father enlisted.”

Steve grabs her hand and squeezes tight. “It was awful,” he says.

Ma pulls him into her arms, rocking him like he’s a baby still, instead of a boy almost grown. “It’s all right, love. Let it out.”

Steve clings to his mother, hanging on so that he can keep himself together. There’s an ache in his chest, choking him, and it feels like he’s crying even though the tears won’t come.

It’s selfish, but now all Steve can think about is that it will be him someday. He’s going to die trapped in this body that has always felt like a cage, and his mother will probably be the one to find him. She’ll have to feel the heat leech out of his hands, watch cold death crawl from his fingertips to his heart.

“I don’t want to die,” he says.

Ma shakes him, and she sounds sharper than he’s ever heard her when she says, “Listen to me, Steven Grant Rogers. You have too much good in you for it be meaningless. Too much good for you to die young.”

Steve nods against his mother’s shoulder. He wishes that he could believe her, but it’s hard to accept after what he saw today. Sometimes loss is just loss, and there’s no rhyme or reason to it.

Dawn light steals through Steve’s window and slinks across the floor. He lies awake, every part of him sore from a sleepless night, watching wan sunlight cut through the shadows of his room.

Ma peeks in to smile at him and say that she’s heading to work. “There’s chicken noodle soup on the stove. Please try to eat some, all right?”

Steve nods, even though his appetite, usually delicate, has disappeared entirely.

He’s still wide awake an hour later when he hears the front door open. He wonders if it might be Rebecca, who’s developing the habit of toddling across the hall to cling to Steve’s mother when she’s scared.

But no, Rebecca’s little feet wouldn’t step so heavily, and Steve knows every detail that makes up Bucky Barnes, right down to the sound of his footsteps.

“Buck? Are you okay?”

Bucky rushes to the bed and burrows beneath the thin blanket, yanking Steve close. It shortens his breath, being held onto so desperately, but Steve doesn’t mind. That blank expression has been wiped off of Bucky’s face, and it’s a relief to feel him reaching out for connection. Choosing Steve as his anchor.

He runs his fingers through Bucky’s hair. It’s dirty, strong with his boyish scent, and strangely pleasant to touch.

“I hate him,” Bucky says. “I know it’s not fair, but it’s the truth.”

Steve tightens his arms around Bucky’s back, embracing him with all the strength he has.

“He was a goddamn coward,” Bucky says. A broken pitch roughens his voice, and he tucks his face against Steve’s chest, burying his tears. “He should’ve fought to get better. He should’ve fought for us.”

There’s nothing Steve can say to fix this, no platitudes he can offer for the sake of giving comfort. Not without lying, and Bucky despises lies above everything else.

So Steve holds on with all he’s got. He swears that he won’t let anything hurt Bucky this badly ever again. He’ll walk through fire to keep him safe, tear down the whole wide world if he has to.

“You’re gonna make it through this,” Steve says. “I’ve got you.”

It hits him, while he watches Bucky sleep: what the painful joy in his chest is, what the hot shiver in his stomach means. Steve is heartsick, so hungry to belong to Bucky that he can barely breathe without him.

And it makes perfect sense, that his devotion could grow in a new direction, because the distance from one kind of love to another isn’t all that far.

Bucky stirs and stretches, blinks his sleepy eyes. They’re vivid, beautiful, and in an ocean of dull grey, startlingly blue—the only color that Steve has ever been able to see.

Notes: Many thanks to @xxlovendreamsxx for all her help as a beta! You’re the absolute best, dear.

I had too much fun writing this story. It gave me an excuse to research the Great Depression, 1930s New York, and the treatment of WWI veterans upon their return home. And, of course, writing teenage Steve falling for Bucky was pretty sweet too! ;)

This fic is the first of four interconnected one-shots. The next piece, “a perfect soldier,” takes place during WWII, and it will be from Bucky’s point-of-view.

The quote at the beginning is by Lang Leav.

#stucky #stucky fanfiction #stucky fic #captain america fanfiction #captain america fic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stevebucky #mcu fanfiction #suicide #minor character death #PTSD #ableism #my fanfiction #blind but for blue

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