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chrisbitchtree · 1 year

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Today’s the day. Billy’s finally going to use the key Steve gave him. The one that’s been hanging on the novelty keychain Max brought him back from her trip to Arizona with her father last summer, unused despite Steve’s insistence that Billy go over and make himself comfortable, swim in the pool, have a glass of wine, use the ugly leather massage chair in the garage on the evenings Steve works late.

He knows it would make Steve happy if Billy does as he’s asked, but Billy doesn’t want to appear too eager to take advantage of what Steve’s offering. There are a lot of strings attached to dating an older guy, one with money, a lot of it, and Billy doesn’t want to get tied up in them and trip, so he usually lets Steve pick him up outside the fourth floor walk up he shares with his buddy Argyle or meets Steve at whatever bougie ass restaurant he’s chosen for the evening.

This afternoon though, he’s sore and tired after a morning spent working on cars in the garage he works at and closer to Steve’s place than his own after a meeting with the bank to discuss a loan for the auto repair shop he and Argyle are planning to open once they find the perfect location.

He calls Steve at his fancy downtown office to notify him of his plan, the smile in his voice coming through loud and clear as he thanks Billy for finally taking him up on this.

“I’m so glad, baby. You work so hard. You deserve to pamper yourself every once in a while. Maybe we can order in tonight and have a relaxing evening together.”

Billy wouldn’t exactly say that Steve bending him over the side of the ouch or over the kitchen counter and fucking him within an inch of his life is going to be relaxing, but it’ll sure feel good to have Steve pressed up against him, murmuring about how well he’s taking it and what a good boy he is, making Billy’s toes curl as he nails his prostate and tugs on his hair, sucking dark purple marks where his shoulder meets his neck.

Billy’s smile stretches wide as Argyle drops him off outside Steve’s home, whistling low as he takes in the grandeur of the expansive property. Billy will have to convince Steve to have a pool party sometime so Argyle and their other friends can take it all in.

He thanks Argyle and waves good bye, entering the security code at the gate and watching as they swing open to grant him access to this alternate reality he’s been floating in since he met Steve at a club five months ago when he’d complimented Steve’s dance moves and the other man had offered to buy him a drink, which had turned into two, then three, both Billy and Steve wandering away from their friends to a table for two before ending the night spooning, naked and sweaty in Steve’s king sized bed.

He silently notes, as he always does, how big and empty the house is. He’d questioned Steve on why he’d bought such a big home instead of a luxury apartment one of the first times Steve had him over, and Steve had told Billy about his childhood, spent with a series of nannies while his parents travelled for work.

Steve didn’t want that for himself. He wanted a big family, at least six kids, running around and filling his home with noise and life.

He’d also told Billy that he he wanted that with Billy, and that he’ll wait while Billy made his way in the world and establishes himself as a business owner, but Steve’s thirty five and knows what he wants someday. It’s something Billy wants too, a big family to love and care for, and he can’t believe he’s going to get to have it with Steve.

He’s had friends ask if he feels like he’s just another possession to Steve, a piece of ass to show off at parties and events, but that’s not the case at all. He knows that he and Steve are very different people living very different lives, but Steve’s never been anything other than interested in Billy’s career plan and goals, never looking down on him for wanting to open a garage and work on cars. It can feel scary at times, falling for someone so fast, especially since Billy’s only twenty four, but it just feels right. He knows they’ll have an amazing life together.

His first order of business is to pour himself a large glass of wine to drink while he takes a hot shower in the rainfall shower in Steve’s ensuite bathroom. The first time he’d been in there, he’d joked that the only thing that would improve the experience would be a wineglass holder. It was an offhand comment, but the next time he was there, he noticed that Steve had had two installed near the door.

He places his glass in one of them now before starting the water up, letting it get nice and hot while he grabs a thick, fluffy towel and the plush cream bathrobe Steve gifted him with a few weeks ago.

He takes a big sip from his glass of red, savouring the taste, miles away from the two buck chuck he and Argyle favoured at home. He’d brought Steve a bottle when the other man had argued that there was no way something that cheap could be good.

Steve hadn’t given in, insisting that it was subpar at best, but Billy had noticed more bottles of it finding a home next to Steve’s expensive collection of vintages. It was fun to see his world make its way into Steve’s, a little bit at a time.

Taking a second sip, he stands under the hot spray, letting it fall on his shoulders and loosen the muscles tensed and tightened from a hard day’s work.

Feeling relaxed from the water and the wine, he washes up, then dries himself off and wraps himself in the robe before falling into Steve’s bed for a nap. Cocooned in Egyptian cotton sheets and a heavy duvet, keeping him warm under the air conditioning pumping through the vents. Setting his alarm for an hour, he closes his eyes.

Feeling refreshed after his nap, he wakes to a text from Steve telling him that he should be home at about 6:30. It’s 5:45 now. He has a bit of time, so he formulates a plan.

Standing up, he stretches, then opens the drawer where Steve keeps the sex toys, and pulls out the lube and a medium sized plug. It’s nowhere as big as Steve, but it’ll save them some work when Steve arrives, allowing them to get to the main event quicker.

He squeezes some lube out, warming it on his fingers before reaching around himself and teasing his hole before slipping a finger in. He moans quietly, pretending it’s Steve’s long fingers instead of his own. He works himself up to three before sliding the plug into place.

He heads back to the kitchen and pours himself another glass of wine before walking through the French doors that lead to the pool.

He sets his glass of wine on the pool deck and arranges himself on a lounger, ass up and on display for Steve to feast on when he arrives. Checking his phone, he sees that it’s 6:15. It won’t be long now.

Crossing his arms under his head, he closes his eyes, letting the warmth of the sun soak into his skin as he waits. He’s starting to doze, fading in and out, when he hears a voice. For a quick second, he gets excited that Steve’s arrived early, but then he registers the fact that it’s a woman and what she’s saying.

He stands abruptly, knocking his wine glass over as she starts to shout.

“Steven, there’s a man, a naked man on your deck. Who is he? Are you aware that he’s there?”

He looks up at the woman on Steve’s balcony, noting the family resemblance as he stumbles around, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. Not how he wanted to meet Steve’s mom, but he guesses he has no choice now.

He stands abruptly, knocking his wine glass over as she starts to shout.

“Steven, there’s a man, a naked man on your deck. Who is he? Are you aware that he’s there?”

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove fic #lemon #Steve Harrington’s mother #chrisbitchtree writes

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sidekick-hero · 15 days

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🔪🛼🍄

Klaus, thank you for the ask my friend! 💜

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Answered here! I mean, I also research a lot about locations. For my Metaldeputy fic I did a lot of research on the area Fargo S5 plays, so everything about Dickinson you find in there is true. The bar and hotel and auto repair all exist.

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

I think smarter people than me have written about this, but I think Steve and Eddie have complementary love languages.

Steve's love language is acts of service. He would give Eddie the world, he would do anything to make Eddie happy. He shows his love in gestures, big and small. He holds open doors, gets Eddie's favorite food, picks him up from band practice, buys tickets for a metal band he doesn't even know and takes Eddie because he knows it will make Eddie happy. He never forgets their anniversary, and he always, always kisses Eddie hello and goodbye. Even when they fight, so that Eddie knows that he still loves him, even though he could kill him right now. It's exactly what Eddie needs because his dad always promised him to stay, to change, he doesn't believe in words, only actions. Like the way Wayne took him in, gruff but steadfast and kind. No one has ever gone out of their way to show Eddie how much he means to them, not like this, not like Steve, and that's exactly what he needs to feel cherished and loved.

Eddie's love language is words of affirmation. He's always been good with words, always someone with a head full of stories and lyrics. He knows the power of words, good and bad. So he uses them to tell Steve how wonderful he is in a million different ways. He's smart in his own way, curious and resourceful. He's loyal and kind, strong and protective. Eddie never tires of reassuring Steve of his worth, of reassuring him of how much Eddie loves him. It soothes all the harsh words from his father, all the insults to his intelligence, all the times someone made him think he wasn't good enough. Eddie is happy to shower Steve with compliments as long as he lives, because to Eddie there are a million things about Steve that are lovable.

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

👩‍🦳💍💵❤️‍🩹🧑🏼‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏻

Writer's Truth & Dare ask game

#mail #ask game #steddie #steddie headcanon

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discountconverter · 8 months

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#universal catalytic converter price #cheap universal catalytic converter

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 2 years

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"TIRED OF K.P., DESERTS ARMY TORPEDOED, NOW WAITS FATE," Toronto Star. May 15, 1942. Page 38. === Back With Unit, Soldier Faces Civilian Court - May Return to Sea ---- SENTENCE MONDAY --- "B" Police Court at the City Hall, Magistrate McNish.

Charged with breaking into a service station at Fleet St. and Spadina Ave. May 9. a soldier pleaded not guilty.

Max Folson testified a window was found broken, a pit door smashed and the office ransacked.

P.C. George Henderson stated that at 230 a.m, when trying the door of the station, he had seen a soldier in the office. After running around the building the man ran out the front door. He arrested accused who denied being in the building. Accused was without a cap he said but in the office he found a soldier's cap.

"If I did anything of that kind, I was was not responsible. I had been drinking wine from early afternoon," said accused. "If I was in there I don't know anything about it. All I can remember is the officer arresting me."

"He had been drinking but I would not call him drunk." said P.C. Henderson when queried by the court. "There will be a conviction," said his worship.

"This man has a clean army record with one exception which needs explanation." said an officer from his unit. "Tired of cookhouse duty he deserted but only to join the merchant marine. His ship was torpedoed and he was later returned to us and he served a period of detention, We are returning him to the merchant marine. His intentions were good and he has been a good soldier."

"I will remand him until Monday for sentence," said Magistrate McNish.

Yesterday preliminary hearing of a charge of manslaughter against Hypolite Zdanek, charged with slaying Peter Mondura, began before Magistrate McNish. but a remand was found necessary and the hearing was put over until today.

Evidence yesterday was to the effect that deceased had been found apparently intoxicated, with his face covered with blood, Iying in a lane off Oxford St. Removed to Claremont Street police station as a drunk he had been set to hospital.

Prof. Dr. D. L. Robinson, who conducted the postmortem examination, stated deceased's eyes were discolored, his breast bone broken. Deceased had received a crushing blow on the abdomen which showed evidence of surgical repair. There had also be a small tear of the bladder which had not been sewn. There had been evidence of peretonitis.

"Deceased might have received these injuries if struck by an auto?" asked Frank Calloghan. defence councel. "Yes." replied Dr. Robinson. Sergeant Melntyre of Claremont Street station said deccased had been brought in as a drunk, but his blackened eyes and other facial injuries caused him to have the man taken to hospital for treatment. Returned to the station he had been placed in a cell where he complained at intervals of abdominal pain. Later he had been taken back to hospital where he subsequently died.

Mrs. B. Bednorsky, Lippincott St. testified that deceased had roomed in her home for 10 months. He had left the house at 3.30 p.m. on April 26 and was "perfectly sober at that time."

"You have been in trouble your self?" asked Mr. Callaghan.

"I don't see that has any bearing here." replied witness.

"You got eight years for killing a man with an axe?" "I didn't."

"Well you served five years at the penitentiary?" "I know in my heart whether I was guilty."

"You were convicted of the offence." I don't think I have to answer that."

"I am the one to decide that." said his worship. "Answer Mr. Callaghan."

"Yes, I was," replied witness.

At this point County Crown Atorney James McFadden informed the court that both Detective-Sergeant Munro and Pilot Officer (Dr.) Howe were ill and another remand. this time to May 22, was necessary.

Bail of $3,000 for accused was renewed.

Appearing for sentence on three charges of shopbreaking, Steve Witiuk was sentenced to two years less a day in the Ontario reformatory. Robert McDermott jointly charged and who also pleaded guilty was given one year definite and one year indefinite in the same institution.

"Witiuk, you did not live up to your probation when given a chance." said the court. "You, McDermott, did so and representations were made in your behalf and I am taking this into consideration."

DRIVER FINED $50 --- "A" Police Court, at City Hall, Magistrate Browne. Appearing in "A" police court for sentence on a charge of dangerous driving,John Verrall, alias Verrault, was fined $50 or 30 days.

P.C. Daniel Glover told the court that accused drove south on Ontario St. and made a sharp turn on Dundas St. "He stopped the car and investigating, I found that the accused was driving with only part of a steering wheel," said witness.

In registering a conviction, Magistrate Browne said: "Here you are driving a death-dealing machine. with only part of a steering wheel."

Gordon Horn pleaded guilty of stealing a bicycle. sweater and $18, the property of W. Fenn. He was remanded until May 22 for sentence.

"This boy obtained a job with Mr. Fenn as a messenger," related. Det. Charles Martin. "He was given a bicycle, sweater and orders to deliver. He collected $18 and disappeared. When I arrested him he told me that he threw the bicycle in the Don river. It was valued at $65 and has not been recovered."

TWO ARE SENTENCED ---- "C" Police Court, at the City Hall, Magistrate Prentice Noel Messier and Rosa Messier appeared before Magistrate Prentice in "C" police court for sentence on a serious charge. The accused man was sentenced to the reformatory for two years, less a day, and six months Indeterminate; the woman to one year in jail.

The convicted woman was led out of the court in a hysterical state.

#toronto #police court #military deserter #break and enter #canadian soldiers #merchant marine #character witness #manslaughter #dangerous driving #dangerous driver #serious charge #women in the toils #women prisoners #sentenced to prison #mercer reformatory #canada during world war 2 #crime and punishment in canada #history of crime and punishment in canada #messenger boy

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justring89 · 1 year

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cherienymphe · 4 years

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Protect & Serve IV (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: Cop!Steve, cop antics, VIOLENCE, KIDNAPPING, NON-CON(FINGERING)

IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

summary: escaping an ugly past, you have no choice but to return home. While much has remained the same, Officer Rogers is a new addition who has won over the hearts of the town in your absence. And no one believes you when you start to see him for who he really is

You didn’t sleep at all that night. Not because someone was banging on your house and skulking about your yard, but rather…the opposite. He didn’t come, and you were left alone with no one but you and your thoughts. You didn’t even know why you weren’t referring to him by name.

Steve.

Steve Rogers.

Officer Steve Rogers.

Officer Rogers was the one who’d been making your nights a living hell for weeks, and the thought made you want to hurl. In fact, that was exactly what you did. As soon as you’d gathered yourself enough to stand, you’d run straight to the bathroom, throwing up for several minutes. Your vision was blurry, body trembling as you hugged the toilet.

Your mind whirled as you fought to make sense of everything. At first, you’d tried to convince yourself that your mind was doing that thing again. Coming up with the most outrageous theories, but the more you thought on it…the more sense it made.

Didn’t police respond to emergency calls based upon who was closest? Steve responded to every single one of your calls, and you remembered that sometimes he wasn’t alone. Was Officer Barnes in on it too? He had to be. They always came in the same car.

You suddenly jumped up, remembering that you’d given the dark-haired cop that blood sample. Steve’s blood sample. His best friend’s blood sample. You pressed your hand to your mouth, feeling like you were going to be sick again.

Officer Romanoff had said that the lab results could be back any day now, but… What if they had never been sent off to begin with? You wanted to cry, and with a start, you realized that you were. Tears were skipping down your face, and for the first time in a long time, you noted that they were tears from fear.

Should you go to the police?

You shook that thought from your mind. Your problem was the police, and what would happen to you if you ran in there to tell them about a crooked, possibly two, cop in their midst? Surely it would get back to Steve, and now knowing what you knew, there was no telling what the man was capable of.

You’d stayed up all night, stewing over what to do. You’d gone over every option there was, and it seemed that the best course of action was to simply leave town. God, you were so tired of running, but this situation was much different from your last.

Sure, Aldrich had money, and had definitely used it to his advantage when escaping the law, but even the luck of someone like him had to run out sometime. He wasn’t completely untouchable. Steve… Steve was the law. You could confront him, and he’d arrest you for whatever charge was believable, and there was no doubt in your mind who they’d be more inclined to listen to.

The thought that Steve could do whatever he wanted and get away with it was a terrifying one. Hell, he had been doing whatever he wanted and had gotten away with it. More tears collected behind your eyes, thinking about the fact that he’d been harassing you during the day and the night. He’d pretty much been in control of every facet of your daily life, and you wondered to yourself…

What did he want?

Was he truly so angry that you’d turned him down? You let out a humorless chuckle, thinking to yourself that you should’ve just gone on the stupid date to save yourself all of this strife. Another part of you argued against that, telling you there was no telling what would have happened on that date or what would have happened after.

It was in the early hours of the morning, and you were packing now. You’d finally made up your mind to just get the hell out of dodge. You didn’t have time to pack up everything and properly move, so a suitcase worth of clothes would do until you sorted everything out. You’d stay in a hotel for a while, whatever it took to get away from him.

You contemplated going by the diner first to see Wanda. You didn’t want a repeat of last time. You wanted to keep in touch, but you decided that your safety came first. You could always look the phone number to the diner up and reconnect with her later. You had just locked up your house, turning towards your car with your suitcase in hand, when a police cruiser pulled into your yard.

Your heart stopped, and you tightened your grip on the handle of your suitcase. Relief did not fill you when none other than Officer Barnes stepped out of the car. You swallowed, warily eyeing him. You were almost positive that he was in on it with Steve. You weren’t sure, but the evidence was damning.

He sent you a friendly smile as he approached you, and you did not return it.

He never smiled at you.

“Morning, Ms. Y/L/N,” he greeted.

“Morning,” you mumbled back.

He stopped at the bottom of your steps, lifting one foot to rest on the bottom step as he looked up at you, blue eyes unreadable. You watched the way they traveled from your face to your suitcase and back.

“Going somewhere?”

You thought about telling him the truth, knowing he’d relay it to Steve, thinking that it would make him happy to see you go, but… You didn’t exactly know why Steve was doing this to you. You didn’t know his motive nor his endgame, so maybe it was best to keep him in the dark.

“Not anytime soon,” you joked, forcing a chuckle. “I’m just going to drop some things off at Goodwill…”

The dark-haired man hummed, nodding as he studied you.

“What brings you here so early in the morning?” you casually asked, moving to walk past him.

“Truthfully…Steve,” he answered.

You frowned, heart skipping a beat, and you were glad that your back was to him as you made your way to your car.

“Steve?” you wondered over your shoulder.

Bucky hummed.

“He was worried about you. Said you seemed pretty upset yesterday…”

You slid your suitcase into the backseat, pursing your lips before shutting the door and turning to face him.

“Upset?” you repeated.

You didn’t like the way he eyed you, and it was then that you knew… Your suspicions were correct. There seemed to be an unspoken battle between you two, both of you trying to figure the other out, seeing who’d slip up first. You had been through this a million times with Aldrich…

“He said that you…seemed confused and distraught…accusing him of some pretty awful things…”

You blinked, lips parting before letting out a soft scoff.

“Oh my God, you’re right. I did,” you guiltily replied. “I’ve been so stressed lately, and Officer Rogers has been nothing but kind to me, and I completely misinterpreted it.”

Bucky appeared to be shocked by your response.

“I’m still working through things, trying to undo a lot of what my ex-husband did. I took it out on Officer Rogers, and I feel terrible.”

He didn’t respond right away, simply eyeing you before slowly nodding. You turned to slide into your driver’s seat, glancing up at him with a small smile.

“Will he be working today? I’d really like to apologize to him properly. If not, I suppose that I can go up to his house later,” you offered.

He ran his eyes over you, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards ever so slightly.

“No…he isn’t in today,” he eventually replied.

“Then I’ll stop by his house later then. If not later then definitely in the morning,” you told him.

The two of you just stared at each other for a moment before he smiled at you.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. Drive safe, Ms. Y/L/N.”

He moved to leave, and you stopped him.

“I also wanted to ask you about the blood sample I gave you. Officer Romanoff said that the results should be back any day now, and I was wondering if they’d come in yet…”

He sadly shook his head.

“I’m afraid not. The ETA for these things are never exact, anyway. I’m sure we’ll get the results back soon though,” he answered, but you didn’t believe him.

You nodded, and he bid you goodbye one last time. He closed your door for you, and you looked in your mirror, watching him go back to his car. He sat in it for a while, but you sighed in relief when he eventually drove off. You closed your eyes, hands gripping the wheel as you forced yourself to take a deep breath.

Bucky was in on it too. You were absolutely sure of it. Forcing both him and Steve from your mind, you went to start your car, only to frown when it sputtered. You twisted your key again, but again, it wouldn’t start.

“No, no, no,” you murmured, forcing yourself to remain calm.

You tried again, and sure enough, you got the same results. You bit your lip, swallowing down a scream. Something within you knew why your car wouldn’t start, knew who was responsible. You took out your phone, looking up the number for the auto repair shop with shaky hands.

30 minutes later, you were watching your car being hooked up to the tow truck. When the man was finished, he approached you. A smile was on his face, and he was clearly trying to ease your worries.

“It shouldn’t take long to determine the problem and have it back here,” he told you.

“About how long do you think it’ll take?”

He hummed, thinking.

“There are already two other cars at the shop. After getting done with them and finally fixing yours, I should be able to have it back here no later than…7:30? 7:45?”

It seemed like you didn’t have much choice but to accept that, so what else could you do besides nod? At least you’d be able to get out of here tonight at the latest. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you watched the man drive away. You felt like a sitting duck, but you had no other option but to go inside.

The first hour dragged by. You tried to distract yourself with cleaning and then some tv, but eventually you gave up and just sat on the couch. You couldn’t believe that you were running again, that you had somehow found yourself in a possibly worst situation than the one you’d left.

By the second hour, you were restless. You grabbed your purse and rose from the couch, swiftly locking the door on the way out. You had made sure that all of the lights were off, and everything was unplugged. You wouldn’t be going back inside.

Ever thankful that the diner was within walking distance from your house, you strode into the establishment with a sigh. Still rather early, it was pretty empty inside. Wanda was nowhere to be found, so you took a seat in the corner. You’d been scrolling through your phone for about 5 minutes when the bell above the door dinged.

You didn’t think anything of it. However, you looked up when the customer spoke. He was at the counter, back facing you as he talked to Wanda who’d finally come from the back. A black leather jacket adorned his large frame, the color contrasting with his fair hair. Swallowing, you looked away just as he turned around, eyes falling to your phone.

Your heart went crazy beneath your chest as you heard him approach. You wondered if he’d talked to Bucky, because if so, that would alter how you interacted with him in the next 30 seconds. When he got close enough, you looked up, seemingly just noticing him, and you threw him a small smile.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” he greeted, demeanor giving no indication of what had transpired yesterday.

“Officer Rogers,” you replied. “I’m glad you’re here…”

He hummed, placing a hand on the chair across from you, the other on his hip.

“Yeah, I came down to pick up something to go. The boss is still forcing me to stay home.”

You swallowed, nodding.

“I actually wanted to apologize to you, Officer Rogers,” you said.

You didn’t register any type of surprise in his eyes. He looked completely unfazed, demeanor remaining the same, and you knew that he’d already spoken with Bucky, confirming what you’d suspected. Still, you continued.

“With everything going on, I’m just so stressed and stretching myself far too thin. Not to mention, I haven’t even been divorced for 6 months. There’s a lot that I’m still dealing with, and I took that out on you in probably the worst way possible,” you explained. “You’ve only ever tried to help me.”

He smirked, and you wanted to wipe it from his face.

“There’s no hard feelings. I completely understand,” he said, pulling the chair out and taking a seat.

You forced yourself not to frown at that. He reached out, with his left hand you noted, to brush a finger along your clasped hands on the table, and you tensed.

“I told you before, if there’s ever anything that you need to talk about, I’m here to listen. I want you to feel as comfortable around me as everyone else in this town,” he quietly added.

You slowly pulled your hands back to rest them on your lap, watching the way his brow twitched ever so slightly. You’d dealt with men like him before. Your ex-husband did that, usually when in public, a tell-tale sign that he was unhappy. They seemed to be more alike than you originally thought.

Before you could respond to that, Wanda was calling for him, letting him know that his food was ready. He sent you one last smile before rising and leaving you alone once again. Wanda strode over as soon as he was gone, a grin on her face.

“You two looked cozy,” she said. “What brings you by so early in the morning?”

“My car is in the shop, so I’m just killing time,” you answered, ignoring her quip about you and Steve.

“Hope everything’s okay with it,” she earnestly replied, handing you a menu. “So, are you going to order anything? I’ll make it on the house.”

“Oh, Wanda, you don’t have to do that,” you said, waving her off.

“Don’t be silly, Y/N, it’s nothing! You’ve had such a horrible string of bad luck lately, the least I can do is try to cheer you up…”

Reluctantly, you accepted her offer, and roamed your eyes over the menu.

When you strode into your yard it was around 7. Sure enough, like the man had said earlier, around 7:45 in the evening, your car was being parked alongside your curb. He mentioned that something had been wrong with the battery and that it hadn’t taken long at all to fix. He didn’t say it outright, but the way he spoke made you believe he thought someone had tampered with it. You believed so too, but you didn’t tell him that.

15 minutes later, you were on the road and making your way out of town. You didn’t exactly have a plan. For now, you looked to stay at the first hotel you could find in another city, staying in a room there for a while to consider your next course of action.

Never in a million years did you think something like this could happen to you, and in your tiny hometown no less. You shook your head, thinking about how Officer Rogers had everyone fooled. You wondered what else he’d gotten away with? Surely, he didn’t just wake up one morning with a change of heart and decided to torment you. People usually do what they know they can get away with, right?

You’d only been driving for maybe 25 minutes when your car suddenly stalled. Your eyes widened, and you rushed to turn the key, hoping that maybe it was a minor problem that would solve itself. You moved to turn it back on, but it only spluttered. Again, you tried, but the engine wouldn’t start, and your heart sank.

You glanced around along the long stretch of road, noting that no cars were around, and you doubted any would be anytime soon. It was getting dark, now, and worry filled you. You weren’t completely out of town yet, hadn’t even crossed the city limits, but there was no way you could walk anywhere. You were too far out, and you’d be crazy to.

You wanted to cry, but you forced the tears back, telling yourself that you had to think smart about this. You tried the ignition again, but like before, the engine wouldn’t start. You considered getting out to look under the hood, but you weren’t very familiar with the inside of a car. You knew to check the oil and knew when to put more freon in the car, but that was about it. Besides, you’d seen enough horror films to know to sit your ass in your car.

However, your location was a problem. You were, quite literally, in the middle of the road. Granted, if someone came up from behind you, it wasn’t like they couldn’t see you, but still. You didn’t like just sitting here. You took out your phone, thankful for your carrier because you actually had a few bars surrounded by all of these trees.

You were in the process of looking up the number to the diner, preparing to call Wanda, when red and blue suddenly surrounded you. Fear gripped you as you jerked your head up, confirming that there were definitely lights flashing from behind you. You dropped your phone in your lap as you turned around. A police cruise was parked on the side of the road behind you, and you felt your body grow numb for several different reasons.

What if it was Steve? You were alone out here, no one around to witness anything that could happen. The thought made you want to vomit. On the other hand, what if it wasn’t Steve? The thought still made you want to be sick because, again, you were alone out here…

You turned back around just as the door opened, taking a deep breath. Forcing your eyes up, you looked into the rearview mirror, only to sigh in relief, the tension easing from your shoulders. The cop walked up to your door, and luckily, your window was already halfway down when your car stopped. His dark eyes met yours, a friendly smile on his lips.

“Officer Wilson,” you breathed, hoping the relief wasn’t too obvious in your voice.

You’d never known him to be anything but nice. Besides, he never came with Steve to your house, so you long guessed that he wasn’t in on it with Steve and Bucky. You would’ve been more relieved had it been Officer Romanoff, but he would do. You wondered how he’d react if he knew what his friends were up to.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” he greeted. “Car trouble?”

“Yes,” you told him. “It just…it just stopped. I’ve tried to start it a couple of times, but nothing.”

He hummed.

“Going somewhere?”

You contemplated on whether or not to be truthful, but eventually you nodded.

“Just out of town. I have some things to do,” you kept it vague.

He nodded with a frown, eyes trailing over your car.

“You want me to take a look under the hood for you?” he offered.

“Would you? I’d appreciate that so much,” you answered.

He chuckled.

“Sure thing! Just let me get my flashlight out of the car,” he told you.

You frantically nodded, and he walked away. You wrung your hands together as you waited for him. You absentmindedly glanced around, and your eyes flickered over your passenger side mirror. You froze, frowning a bit as you questioned what you saw. Slowly, you flickered your eyes back to the passenger mirror, and they widened.

There, in the passenger seat of the police cruiser, was none other than Officer Barnes. Your lips trembled, heart hammering within your chest as you watched him talk to Sam, eyes on you. You could tell that he couldn’t see you looking at him through the mirror. You brought your eyes up to the rearview mirror, watching as Sam animatedly said something to him. You looked back to see Bucky doing the same. They seemed to be arguing about something.

Adrenaline on high, it took everything in you to keep your movements slow. You turned the ignition, but you were met with the same results as last time. You swallowed, tears collecting in your eyes now as you tried again.

“Come on, come on,” you quietly pleaded.

You looked up and watched in horror as both doors of the cruiser opened. Shaking your head, you turned the key again, hard, and gasped when your car roared to life. You heard Sam yell your name, but your foot was already pressing on the gas.

It wasn’t long before you heard the cruiser behind you, closing the distance. You were terrified to press your foot all the way down. You wanted to escape them, but you also didn’t want to die in the process. You forced your tears back, already hard enough to see as it is in the darkness. Your brights were on, but with the cruiser’s lights directly behind you, they weren’t much help.

You screamed when their bumper tapped the back end of your car. They did it again, and your fingers tightened on the wheel. You could see them coming up beside you, and before they had a chance to get level with your car, you slammed on the breaks. They flew past you before eventually slamming on breaks too. By the time they moved to turn around, you had already hit a U-Turn and were in the process of driving away.

Unfortunately, there was one thing that you hadn’t counted on.

Your car swerved when a gunshot rang out, the sound of your tire exploding not far behind. You struggled to take control of the car, realizing with horror that you were swerving off of the road and into the trees. You missed the first couple, but you shrieked when the side of your car grazed another. Your ran over fallen limbs and even a fallen trunk, roughly turning your wheel as not to come in contact with one head on.

It seemed that you were destined to do just that though. Your eyes widened at the large tree up ahead, and, in a panic, you jerked your wheel to the left, wincing when the right side of your car hit the tree instead, glass shattering. You released a shaky breath, pressing your hand to your head. Through the haze, you noted that you didn’t hear the cruiser approaching, but that just meant they were on foot.

With shaky hands, you struggled to open your car door. You slid out and fell to the ground, slowly pushing yourself onto your hands and knees, telling yourself to move faster. One hand on the car, you pulled yourself to your feet. Your vision swam as you stumbled through the trees, tripping over limbs and holding onto trunks as you passed them.

Your vision was starting to spin, and you shook your head, trying clear it. You could hear some fallen branches loudly snapping from behind you, and fear struck you. They didn’t even care to be stealthy, confident that they’d get you either way.

“Y/N!”

Your stomach churned at the way Bucky sang your name, the sound echoing around you in the darkness. They were closer than you thought, because you heard Sam say something to him that you couldn’t make out, and Bucky chuckled in response, that too echoing around you.

Unable to see where you were going, your foot landed in a hole, and you gasped as your ankle bent. You crashed to the ground, hitting your head, and your chest heaved. The footsteps were closer now, and you rolled over to crawl away just as a foot landed on your injured ankle.

You cried out, and someone’s hand wrapped around your arm, turning you over onto your back. You could make them out in the darkness, and you kicked your uninjured leg, hands swinging as you fought them off. You heard Sam grunt as your foot connected with his knee, and he stumbled back. Fed up, Bucky’s hand found your throat, pinning you to the ground as he straddled you, and you spit in his face.

He tightened his grip at that, and you whimpered.

“He wants her unharmed, Buck,” Sam reminded him, and the blue-eyed man scoffed.

“Yeah, well, maybe he should’ve gone after a girl with a little less fire-.”

His words were cut off by his yelp, and you dug your nails deeper into his face. Your other hand swung towards his neck, but his free hand caught it before you could do any damage, slamming your wrist to the ground.

“Damnit, Sam! Her hand! Grab her hand,” he snarled, struggling to keep you pinned beneath him, the haze finally clearing from your mind.

Your other hand was ripped away from him and held to the ground. He let go of your throat, and you bucked against him as he reached for something in his jacket. You couldn’t see what it was, not just because it was dark, but because tears were blurring your vision. He pressed it to your face, and you cried harder when you realized that it was a rag. It smelled funny, and you could guess what was soaking it.

You renewed your struggle, but they simply tightened their grip, Bucky pressing down harder on you as he did the same with the rag. You found it hard to breathe, and your body started to feel light. Sam shushed you, and that was the last thing you heard, Bucky’s blue eyes the last thing you saw before everything went dark.

The next time you drifted back into the land of semi-consciousness, you could feel that you were sprawled out on the backseat of a car. Your head lolled to the side as the car curved, and you could feel that you were being driven up a hill. You must have gone back to sleep for a few minutes because the next thing you felt was hands sliding underneath you, lifting you out of the car.

Your arms hung limp in the air, as did your head, and you frowned as you heard some muffled commotion. A tv was on, turned to the highest setting it seemed because even outside, you could hear that a football game was being watched. There were a few loud cheers that reached your ears, and you groaned.

A door was opened, the commotion quieting down, and a shift in the air told you that you were no longer outside. Even in your state, you realized that this wasn’t good, and your heart raced, frustration coursing through you because you couldn’t move.

“Is that her?” you heard an unfamiliar voice quietly ask, the deep baritone reaching your ears.

You felt, rather than heard, someone stomp towards you, and you groaned when they grabbed your ankle.

“What did I say, Bucky?”

You felt bile rise in your throat at the familiar voice, lips trembling as this confirmed everything that you already knew.

“That wasn’t me. She stepped in a hole when she was running away…”

Steve heaved a sigh, and whatever happened next was wordless because you felt Bucky start to walk. You slipped back under again just as his first foot stepped up onto some stairs. Darkness greeted you, mind conjuring up images that had you frowning.

Your mind was plagued with thoughts of Killian, but he eventually morphed to Steve. Falsely warm smiles and eyes that hid true intentions. His silhouette stood in every corner, laughing as you spun with a gun in hand, always just missing him. His laughter grew louder until it was all you could hear, and you shot up with a gasp.

The room that you were in was bathed in low light from the lamp on the other side. It was a modest size, but not tiny by any means. Your head still felt fuzzy, and you blinked a few times, attempting to clear it as you shook your head to the side. Your fingers dug into the sheets beneath you, and you realized that you were sitting on a bed.

Laughter grabbed your attention, the same laughter you heard in your sleep, and you realized that must have been what woke you up. You slid off of the bed, careful to do so without making any noise, and you hesitantly walked to the door. You tried the knob, but it seemed to be locked from the outside. You pressed your ear to the door and frowned at what you heard.

“Touchdown,” that same deep voice from before yelled, and you heard a thud before a small crash followed.

You heard several cries of protest, and with wide eyes, you realized that the house was full of men.

“Really, brother. Must you always be such a brute,” a smooth voice said.

You swallowed, taking a step back as your jaw clenched, hands curling into fists. How could they be enjoying something like a football party downstairs as if you hadn’t just been kidnapped and carried through the room…minutes…hours before?

With a huff, you spun around, looking over the room. You still felt a bit out of it, but you were coherent enough to realize you needed to get the hell out of here. Fast. Your eyes fell onto the window on the other side of the bed, and you hurried towards it. You bit your lip as you confirmed that you were on the second floor. The room that you were in was on the backside of the house because your eyes landed on the lake, and you grimaced.

With difficulty, you opened the window and looked down. There was more than enough room to hit the ground without hitting the lake, and you looked around. With disappointment, you realized there was nothing for you to climb onto…until you looked up. You stared at the ledge of the roof for a while before making up your mind.

You pulled your head back inside and ran to the dresser across from the bed. Swiftly, but quietly, you pulled all of the drawers out, neatly stacking them on the bed. The dresser was much lighter and much easier to push in front of the door now. When you were done, you paused, listening for any indication that they heard you, but the television was blaring, and there was some yelling at the screen. You quickly slid the heavy drawers back inside.

Stepping onto the window sill was a struggle, and not just because of your bruised ankle. You held onto the house with one hand, the other reaching up to grip the ledge of the roof. Without hesitation, you swung and clasped your other hand onto the ledge too. Your upper body strength was severely lacking, but it was enough.

Somehow, you shuffled around the house, away from the back patio and living room. You could see a tree coming up on your left, the large trunk brushing against the house, limbs and branches sticking out over and against the side. You reached for one of the limbs with one hand just as you placed a foot on a limb beneath that one. You followed suit with the other hand and hissed in pain when your injured foot joined your other one.

With difficulty, and much slower than you would have liked, you climbed down, gently lowering yourself to the ground. Before you were nothing but trees. You could see the start of the driveway to your right, and the ominous lake called to you on your left.

Your best chance of escape was getting to the other side of the lake. If you could get to the other side without being noticed, you’d practically be home free. However, trying to swim across a lake that size with a drugged-out brain, injured ankle, and fatigue-ridden body was a suicide mission. You could easily drown.

With a grimace, you stepped into the thick trees before you. You needed to get back to the road, but eventually, when they caught onto your absence, the road and nearby areas is the first place they’d look. Part of you thought that there was no use in trying. Your body was weak, and you were currently limping through the forest. You were like an injured deer trying to outrun a pack of wolves as they slept.

Eventually…they’d wake up.

The night was cool, and you started to shiver. When you left, you’d only had on some jeans and a thin long-sleeved shirt. Your jacket had been next to you in the passenger seat. Had you known you were going to be kidnapped and then forced to escape your kidnappers, you would’ve put it on. You heard a howl far off in the distance, and with a start, you remembered that Steve wasn’t the only thing you had to hide from.

You didn’t know how long you had been walking, but when you reached a small clearing, moonlight shining down on you, you were forced to admit it to yourself. You were lost. It wasn’t like you had been walking in circles, so you weren’t concerned about accidentally making your way back to the house. In fact, you were proud to say that you’d made a lot of headway.

Just when you thought that your fatigue would get the best of you, spotted lights far off in the distance. They weren’t stars. You figured that the nearest neighbor had to be miles away, so it didn’t hit you how much you had walked until that moment. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, leaning against a tree. You pushed yourself off of it just as you heard a noise from behind you.

It was so faint, and you blinked, thinking that you had imagined it. You took a step forward, and you heard it again. Feeling like you’d been punched in the stomach, you realized that it was shouts. Several of them reaching your ears, yelling a name that was all too familiar to you: yours.

Paying no mind to your injured ankle, you took off into a sprint. Your fatigue was long forgotten, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You could hear the shouts getting closer, and you realized that they had begun running too. One of them was faster than the rest, footfalls pounding against the earth as they fought to catch up to you.

You wouldn’t make it. The realist in you knew this, and you bent over as you ran, swiping up a thick bat sized limb. You heard him just behind you, and you spun, swinging it across his face. His head snapped to the side, and he fell to his knees, clutching his face. You looked up, realizing that the rest had almost caught up to you now, and took off again.

The broken branch was heavy in your arms, slowing you down, and it wasn’t long before you were caught up to again. Only this time when you swung, it was caught in an iron grip. Bucky snatched it from you with one hand while the other swung at you. You brought your foot up in between his legs just as his palm connected with your face.

You both went down, but as you went to crawl away, his hand clasped around your injured ankle. You yelped, clawing at the dirt as he pulled you back. With your other foot, you kicked him in the face, and he let go with a grunt.

You pushed yourself to your feet, but you were knocked down again, this figure much stronger, and you knew that it was the first man you’d hit. You struggled beneath him, screaming as he pinned your wrists at the small of your back. He yanked you up with ease, and you kicked behind you, but he easily avoided your assault.

He jerked you upright, and the other hand fisted into your hair as he made you look straight ahead. Bucky was struggling to stand, blue eyes cold as they gazed at you, and you returned the look, chest heaving. Another unfamiliar man was slowly making his way over with Sam, his green eyes twinkling with mischief, a sly smirk on his pink lips. The man behind you chuckled, the deep sound vibrating through his chest and into your back.

“I like this one,” he finally said, out of breath. “She’s a fighter…”

He didn’t seem bothered by it though. In fact, you’d say he enjoyed the chase.

“Like this one all you want, but this one isn’t yours.”

You tensed at the sound of a familiar voice coming from the shadows. His footsteps grew louder, and you saw the white of his shirt through the trees first. You moved in the harsh hold you found yourself in, and the man behind you shook you, casing you to flinch and hold still. You licked your lips, tasting blood, and you threw a glare towards Bucky.

Steve took his time getting to you, blond hair in disarray as he approached. The tight short-sleeved tee clung to him, and you narrowed your eyes at the healing wound on his right arm. He caught your gaze, and a smirk fell over his lips.

“You did get me good, sweetheart,” he said once close enough, impressed. “You could’ve killed me. I wasn’t expecting that.”

You didn’t respond, simply glaring at him as he stopped to stand before you. He looked down his nose at you before his gaze flickered to that of the man holding you.

“Let her go, Thor,” Steve told him.

“But she’ll-.”

“She won’t run away. You guys go back to the house. You might still be able to catch the end of that last game,” he interrupted.

Reluctantly, the man behind you, Thor, let you go, and the blood rushed back to your hands. You almost wanted to beg them to stay. You didn’t know what Steve would do to you now that you were alone…in the middle of nowhere…

He reached for your face, and you jerked away. He reached for it again, quicker this time, and gripped your chin harshly in his hand. He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, wiping away the blood there, and he hummed.

You glanced down just before bringing your leg up, but seemingly anticipating that, Steve closed his own legs around your ankle. He twisted his body, causing you to fall on your side. He grabbed your ankle and pulled you back as he lowered to his knees. You pulled against his hold, but you felt him press his knees to the back of your legs, keeping you in place.

One arm grabbed the back of your shirt and yanked you up until you were on your own knees, back pressed against his front while one hand slid around you to lock your arms in place at your side. It all happened so quickly, and you struggled in his hold. His heart beat perfectly steady in his chest while yours threatened to jump out at any moment. He brushed his lips over your ear, and you closed your eyes.

“You’ve got two options...,” he started. “I can give you this…”

You opened your eyes just in time to see him bring a syringe before your eyes, and they widened in fear, heart skipping a beat.

“It’ll help you sleep,” he murmured. “…and we both know you need the rest after the day you’ve had.”

You jerked against him, but he tightened his hold, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“However…if I gave you this, I could do anything I wanted to you. I mean, I won’t because that’s not really my style, but all you have is my word on that,” he whispered, breath fanning over your skin.

You stared at the ground, tears spilling over now.

“Or…we could stand up, and we could walk back to the house like two civilized adults. Its entirely up to you…”

“Why are you doing this to me?” you finally asked him.

He tsk’d at that.

“Make a decision,” he demanded, voice dropping.

With trembling lips, you told him that you’d walk. He sharply inhaled, seemingly pleased with the answer as he put the syringe away. He loosened his grip, but your relief was short-lived as he quickly snapped handcuffs onto your wrists. He tightened them, and you winced, gasping when one hand dug into your arm, the other sliding over your breasts.

A new fear clung to your frame as he fondled you, hands sliding down your shirt, fingers dancing along the edge of your jeans.

“No,” you protested, trying, and failing, to lean away from him.

He slid his hands past the waistband and into your underwear, fingers grazing over you. The hand that was on your arm slid up to your throat, tightly wrapping around it to pull your head back. His lips pressed to the skin just below your jaw, and you trembled as he slowly slipped a finger inside of you.

“Steve, please-.”

“Say my name again,” he groaned, sliding a finger in and out of you before adding another.

“Stop,” you choked out, fighting to put as much space between you as possible.

He simply hummed, pushing his fingers into you past the knuckle, curling them inside of your now slick core. You gasped, and he turned your head to the side, pressing his lips against yours and forcing his tongue past your lips. He moaned into your mouth as he worked his hand in between your legs, the lewd sounds reaching your ears.

The palm of his hand kept brushing against your bundle of nerves, and you felt yourself clench around him. Steve chuckled into your mouth, a grin on his lips. You tried to move your head away, but he kept you in place, moving his mouth against yours again.

You shook in his arms as your walls fluttered around his fingers, and your vision went fuzzy, a choked moan being pulled out of you. Steve swallowed it down, and you didn’t even notice that he’d released your neck, eyes widening when you felt a pinch.

He held you still as he pulled the needle out of your neck, and your reaction was instantaneous. You collapsed in his arms, and he was more than happy to hold you, blue eyes boring into your own as you fought to keep them open. You watched as he brought his fingers up and wrapped his lips around them. He kissed you, and you tasted yourself. His lips brushed over yours as he spoke, reaching under you to undo the cuffs.

“You don’t know how badly I want to take you, right now…”

You struggled in his arms now that yours were free, but your movements were sluggish, and you felt weighed down. He held you in his arms as he stood, your arms swinging limply.

“…but someone might think that I was killing you.”

Your head fell back as sleep claimed you.

tags: @xoxabs88xox @darkficreposter @mcudarklibrary @captainchrisstan @nickyl316h @buckybarnesplumwhore @harryspet @readermia @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @opheliadawnwalker3 @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @briannab1234 @stargazingfangirl18 @lou-la-lou @izzfizzh @thatgirly81 @autty0314 @hinata7346

#dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark fic #cop!au #cop!steve #cop au #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader

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straightupsickfics · 3 years

Text

A smol thing for/inspired by @softersteve who wanted 18 / squishing the other’s cheek from this prompt list, with some cute reluctant sick person Bucky 💖

This is from an au I started where Bucky lives in a small town in Indiana and is a carpenter/wood worker and Tony is a mechanic who owns an auto repair shop and they fall in love on Bucky’s porch

***

“...He said that Maura appeared to be shaken up, but didn’t appear intoxicated…” The sound of a familiar voice greets Tony as he walks the length of the driveway and up the steps to where Bucky sits on his porch.

At midday, the sun is high in the sky, and it’s clear from the look of him that Bucky’s been working since early that morning. His hands and jeans are covered in a thin coat of sawdust, and he just looks... worn out. Tony’s stomach still gives a little flip at the sight of him, though. It’s still new, being with him, but it’s been so easy, slotting their lives together and spending long stretches of the evenings together — sitting on Bucky’s porch and talking about their latest projects, eating dinner together and drinking a beer while the sun set — that it’s become something of a routine. Something to look forward to at the end of even the longest days.

Today, Tony’s early. Work had been slow all day and he’d decided to close up early and come visit his grumpy, hard-working, true crime-obsessed boyfriend.

“Working hard or hardly working?” Tony says in greeting, leaning down to brush a kiss over Bucky’s lips. He feels a smile unfurl beneath his lips and grins in response, pulling away.

“Could say the same for you,” Bucky counters, voice just shy of raspy as he smiles shyly up at him. Bucky’s eyes look even more tired up close, and despite the bright sun, his face is more pale than usual, almost sallow. “Shouldn’t you be at the shop right now?”

“I wanted to see you,” Tony tells him, dropping himself into the Adirondack chair beside Bucky’s. They’re beautiful pieces, each made by hand with the kind of love and care Bucky puts into everything he cares about, Tony was coming to realize. He’s a tough nut to crack, but deep down, Bucky is just about as soft as they come.

Tony sees it in the careful way Bucky pulls Tony to him at night, smiling softly at him while they eat and talk about nothing; he sees it when he catches him murmuring sweetly to Alpine, his little white rescue cat, and definitely when he Facetimes with his friends from New York, Steve and Sam. The three of them remind Tony of his own best friends, Pepper and Rhodey, also in New York, also keen to give him shit about his personal life at every turn.

It’s adorable, really, these little glimpses into Bucky’s life, things and people Tony could only hope to one day meet.

Beside him, Bucky coughs roughly into his elbow, then shoots Tony an apologetic look. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Driving me crazy…”

Tony looks at him. “You sound a little rough, Buckybot,” he tells him. “Not that I don’t enjoy the whole sexy raspy thing you’ve got going on,” he adds.

Bucky gives him another little smile, this one bordering on a smirk as he rolls his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Not if it means you’re feeling bad, though,” Tony tells him. “And if you’re sitting here in the middle of the day, listening to your doom and gloom show—”

Bucky holds up a hand, stopping him. “It’s not a doom and gloom show.”

“I don’t know, listening to stories about murder for all these hours? Pretty dark, Buck,” Tony counters.

This gets him another eye roll. He’d probably get a lecture of the merits of Crime Junkie, too, but Bucky’s eyes get a kind of glazed look to them, bleary and unfocused as his breathing goes shallow. Tony watches as he shakes his head once, quickly, like he’s trying to clear it, before he gives up and brings a hand to his face, pinching off a rush of quick, itchy-sounding sneezes.

“Hh’mpsh! Hdt’ish! Tshh! Snf!”

“Bless you! You shouldn’t do that you know. Your eyes might pop out of your skull. Or your brain might explode. And then I’ll have to be a guest on a podcast, talking about you to strangers. I’ll have no choice but to broadcast your stubbornness to the whole world.”

Bucky sniffles, then sighs. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” Tony says, smiling. He leans over, letting his hand rest on Bucky’s knee. “Are you okay? I’m no doctor but you look like you’re getting sick.”

“Thanks,” Bucky says, grimacing. He leans down and pulls a box of tissues from beneath his chair, snuffling into them before he replies again. “Might be coming down with something, but I feel okay. Mostly just s-sndeezing. The dust and the sun weren’t helping, so I came up here for a while.”

“Sweetheart,” Tony says, and his voice sounds too soft and sappy even to his own ears, but he can’t help it, not with the way Bucky’s sitting there with his watery eyes and pale face, telling him he feels just fine. He watches as Bucky tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear, sniffling a few more times. The rest of his hair is pulled up into a bun the way it always is when he’s been working, and Tony’s struck with the desire to pull it loose, release some of the tension that’s probably building in Bucky’s head and sinuses.

“W-what?” Bucky asks, his voice unsteady as his nostrils flare at the edges. He scrubs at it, but it apparently doesn’t do much because Bucky’s head bobs against an onslaught of another set of sneezes.

“Hh’Ishhh! Ehtsh! Heh’ISHOO!” The last one slips out, unstifled, and Bucky brings the handful of tissues back up, burying his face into them.

“God bless you,” Tony says. He gets up then, takes the box of tissues from Bucky’s lap and settles himself onto it, straddling himself over Bucky’s thighs and leaning into the warm weight of him. “You make a cute sick person, you know that?”

“I’m hardly sick, Tony, I might be getting a cold, but I’m not…” Bucky trails off as Tony reaches up and lets his hair down, slipping the hair tie onto his own wrist in the process.

“Spoken like the stubborn sick person I know you to be, sweetheart,” Tony says, carding a hand into Bucky’s hair a few times and watching his face soften at the endearment.

“Your face is pale,” Tony points out, cupping Bucky’s cheek in his palm and squeezing playfully. “But I’m afraid it’s true. You’re a cute sick person.” He drops a kiss to the apple of Bucky’s cheek to illustrate his point, smiling as Bucky tries his very best not to smile at the affection.

“Keep it up, Stark,” Bucky warns, though the congestion and fondness all but negates whatever threat he had planned. He holds up a hand in warning, then leans back and away from Tony to sneeze again. “Hh’Eh...eeISHH’oo! Huh’TshhhIEW! Snf! Sorry,” Bucky murmurs. Tony just kisses his shoulder before continuing.

“...Or what? They’ll be talking about me on the podcast next? God I sure hope they don’t interview my father... the fans will get the entirely wrong idea about me.”

Bucky laughs at this, dropping his head onto Tony’s shoulder to muffle the sound. He rests there for a long minute, and Tony brings his hand back up into his hair, petting the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

“Hmm...feels good,” Bucky mumbles eventually, leaning back up and looking at Tony. His gray-blue eyes are tired but fond, Tony can’t help but notice.

“Good,” Tony tells him. “Why don’t you call it a day, hm? Let me take you inside and we can do sick person things. I’ll even listen to your murder show with you without complaint. It’s too hot to sit out here, and the sun has to be bothering your eyes.”

Bucky only hesitates for a few seconds before nodding. “Okay,” he says, clearing his throat a few times. “It’s the Maura Murray episode. Two parts! Even you had to have heard about that case.”

“Can’t say I have, darling,” Tony says, kissing him once, quickly, before standing up and holding out a hand for Bucky to take. “Enlighten me.”

Bucky leads them inside, sniffling as he scoops up Alpine and tucks them both in beside Tony on the couch. The living room is still a work in progress, all mismatched furniture and throw blankets, but it’s cool and dim and when Bucky rests his head against Tony’s shoulder, relaxing against him, Tony can’t help but think it feels like home.

#he's cute okay #tony loves him!#also bucky loving a true crime podcast is just cute to me don't ask me why #my fic #winter//iron

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harringtonheartache · 4 years

Text

Daybreak | Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Lab Escapee! Reader?

Summary: Part twelve of this fic. Rescue team, engage!

Word Count: 2,500 +

Warning(s): Descriptions of blood and injury. Cussing.

A/N: Unintentional Barb reference, can you spot it? P.s. I hope you’re all staying safe.

Hopper stood in a void room, the red light flashing above him now his only entertainment. His hands lifted from his sides and landed back where they had been in a gesture of exasperation. He had been deserted when the chaos started, only a mutter of “stay here” to instruct his position. He stuck his head out the door and peered down the hallway. The top floor seemed mostly abandoned by now, and he assumed whatever was happening had come from down below — or at least ended up there. Hopper took advantage of staff absence and, under realization that this would most likely be his only chance to investigate, walked down the hallway he had been ushered away from earlier.

Steve’s eye had already begun swelling, and this made his sobering blinks all the more unpleasant. His hands pushed against the floor, and dust from the explosion’s debris stuck to his palms as he stood. His legs were still unreliable, but he managed to make it down the length of the hallway to Nine before they folded and he sat before her on his knees.

Nine laid limp, practically on her side with her right arm rested below her. A shard from the building’s wall stuck out from her opposite arm, the impact of the explosion working it into her skin a good depth. Around the wound were bruises, but they had surfaced a day ago when she had been taken. Had police been called, they might declare her dead without checking for a pulse. Blood marked the floor as it created a steady path from her face, dripping to the white flooring every other second and finding its way into the crevices of the tile. The floors will have to be scrubbed clean to match the other levels again. Then again, the walls will have to be repaired too.

A curl of short hair on her forehead was shaken in front of her eye when Steve grabbed her shoulders. He called out her name, his voice horse as if he had swallowed some of the dusted wreckage from the walls. Watching as not to touch the damaged skin of her arm, his grasp tightened and he firmly shook her shoulders. “Nine, wake up! We have to go!” he kept speaking to her but his voice didn’t get any stronger. She winced without opening her eyes, able to feel Steve’s presence but not at it’s full tenacity. Her minimal responsiveness was still enough to encourage him, though, and he shook her again, hoping for a larger reaction. “Nine, please, wake up”. This time she moved her head, flinching and drowsily unaware of what had happened.

“What the fuck is this? What happened?” A booming voice over Steve’s shoulder caused him to jolt, extending forward to cover Nine with his own body. He turned his head to see Hopper, somehow having caught up to them this quickly. Dustin was a couple paces behind, only having moved a few steps forward from where he was dropped. He hadn’t convinced himself that Nine wasn’t dead, and instead watched Steve shake her from a distance, trying not to think about the deer in the forest.

“Th- this is her. She saved us but we need to get her out of here. She’s hurt, I don’t think she can stand,” Steve spoke in an unnerved manner, turning his head away from Hopper and back to Nine mid-explanation. “How- why the hell did you guys get out of the car? I told you I was handling it,” Hopper said, clearly disapproving how quickly things managed to spiral. “It doesn’t matter! We have to go, now!” Steve shouted, his head bobbing up and down with his words. He slipped one arm under Nine’s legs and the other behind her torso in an attempt to pick her up. He was stopped before getting her into the air, Hopper’s hand strong on his shoulder. “No, you’re injured and I’m bigger than you. I’ve got her, you lead us out.” He said. He removed his arms carefully and Hopper picked her up with ease. Steve was slightly tentative, feeling as if he were violating Nine’s trust by allowing someone she didn’t know to carry her.

Standing reminded Steve that it was best, his legs still wobbly and his vision clouding with his sudden rise. With the two catching up to Dustin, he stood on his toes and peered at Nine worriedly. “Is she going to be okay?”

“She’ll be fine, kid, just help me get her out of here,” Hopper told him.

They hurried up a multitude of staircases, Steve holding each door for the group as they made their way to the main level. As Dustin pushed through an entryway, he squeaked and retreated, pulling the door closed as he bumped into Hopper behind him. “There are men in there! Retreat, Retreat, Retreat!” The three (four, you could say) backtracked immediately, Hopper muttering incoherent curses and Steve’s sneakers squeaking against the floor. An elevator ding rang loud enough to be heard over the alarm, and Steve flinched, looking to his right to see a quartet of lab men. He jumped, swiveling to check the immediate area and taking a medical cart by the push-handle. He launched it at the men, yelling as it flew through the elevator door at full speed. Shuffling past the scene, the escape team located another door and adopted a new route out of the building.

The group arrived on the main level and Dustin, still taking up the lead, booked it for the doors. Swinging the left one open viciously, he made room for the rest of his following. He called out something about getting to the car, as if the others had opposing plans in mind.

Arriving at the vehicle, Steve opened the back door on the left-hand side, and Dustin opened the right for Hopper. Climbing in the car, he closed the door behind him and sat with his back against it. He extended his arms outward to help the chief in lowering Nine into the car, carefully yet firmly taking hold underneath her arms and pulling her towards him to rest her upper half on his lap. He shuffled backwards a little to make more room for her as Hop placed her dainty feet atop the seat, careful to make sure they didn’t roll off the side. With Nine slumped between his legs for stability, Steve draped his arm around her collarbone to hold her tight, hand landing on her opposite shoulder. Her head fell to the side, against his chest as if she were sleeping comfortably.

Dustin had claimed shotgun and turned around in his seat to look at the two in the back. Hopper, free of his carrying duties, now slammed closed his door to the driver’s seat, jamming the keys retrieved once again from his pocket into the ignition. At this point he was running on auto-pilot, nothing but instinct as his guide. His heavy foot against the gas pedal tossed all passengers backwards then forwards, but Steve shot an arm out to his side, pushing against the driver’s seat to keep him and Nine steady. The rocking caused her to groan anyway, waking her marginally and in response Steve pulled her a little closer to his chest. “You’re okay, I have you,” he said to her in a voice on the verge of a whisper. He eyed her arm, the fragment of clay walling still poking out from her skin like a card in a deck. He was thankful that this arm was facing the front of the car rather than the seats, as he wouldn’t have to worry that a sharp turn may slam it against the cushions and submerge the shard deeper. He made a note to keep his free arm against Hopper’s seat, however, to keep them from falling forward and meeting the same outcome.

“Shit, the gate!” Dustin spoke in curses. The gate to the lab that had been opened with a code for their entry had since been shut, and time did not permit them to hop out of the car and play with the buttons. “Hold on,” Hopper said vehemently, bracing himself and hoping his car wouldn’t fail them in their haphazard getaway. Steve hugged Nine close and closed his eyes equally as tight.

With a metallic crash, the hood of the car tore down the fencing. Swerving in recovery, Hopper cursed and readjusted the wheel to turn down the road, tires squealing at him in complaint. Within moments he had stabilized his driving and continued down the road as if everything were ordinary, although scratches across the front of the car would indicate their struggled escape.

“Okay, what the hell did we just do? Who the fuck is this girl and why did I help you steal her from Hawkins’ Lab?” Hopper’s arms were stiff in front of him as he pushed back against his seat. He tossed a look at the rear-view mirror, hoping Steve would pick it up. “We didn’t steal her-” he started but didn’t get a breath past his fourth word. “Oh, really? Because they didn’t seem to want us to leave with her.” Hopper enunciated his words greatly in his angered turbulence.

“They were fucking torturing her! Okay, her name isn’t Nina,” Steve started.

Hopper cut in again with an exasperated exhale, “Oh-” he tried to sarcastically question Steve again but he wasn’t allowed.

“It’s Nine. She’s a lab number. She escaped about a week ago and they- they kidnapped her back, and- and they experiment on her. It’s not right, we needed to help her,” he said, breathing sharply and only looking down at Nine as he rambled.

“I’m sorry, what the hell is going on at Hawkins’ Lab? They experiment- why are they experimenting on people?”

Dustin, wanting this argument to be over, chimed in energetically. “She has superpowers, okay!? She can do shit with her mind. That’s why the hallway was destroyed where you found us and that’s why they do tests on her. She’s like, fucking superhuman!”

Hopper went silent, his car bouncing as they went over a bump in the road. He scoffed to himself, but stayed wordless. He tried to question why the hell they would lie to him in a situation like this, but danced on the edge of giving into belief. Maybe they weren’t.

“Where am I going? Where are we supposed to take her?”

In the back, Steve sighed gently, worrying too heavy a breath may agitate Nine who could feel his movements laying against his chest. His arm was still hung below her neck, and he looked at the once white fabric of her shirt that was now colored a wet red. He wanted to give her a shirt of his own right now, but occupied himself in wiping blood from her cheek with his sleeve. Her right hand caught his eye, resting on her leg with no sleeve to conceal it. The vibrant bandaid he had placed across the back of it was still there, unmoved from where he had smoothed it over her skin. “We have to go to my house. If she wakes up anywhere else, she’ll panic. It’s the only place she’ll feel safe.”

Steve denied Hopper’s help once they arrived at his house, lifting Nine into his own arms to carry her to his room. His parents were still gone, but Hopper’s gaze traveled across the living room as if they’d appear from behind a couch. Upstairs, Steve began to lower Nine - fully unconscious again - onto his bed, the same side she had slept on the other night. “Wait, wait,” Dustin spoke, jogging into the room with a towel to place under her left side beneath her bright red arm. A thoughtful gesture, identical to the one Nine performed herself for Steve’s ankle. Her head sank into the pillow and only when he had completely let go of her did Steve exhale. He bent down, hovering himself above her arm and chewing at his lip; it was still bleeding from the beating he received and he released it from his teeth at the stinging reminder of pain.

“How are we going to fix that? We need, like, hospital-level medical skills to help her. It’s gonna need stitches”. Dustin acted as the voice of reason, Steve having been only a moment away from asking him to retrieve the kit from under the sink where Nine had left it. She had cleaned him up so easily. He wanted to convince himself that he could do the same. “We can’t take her to a hospital. She’s unidentifiable and the lab will probably find her, it’s not safe,” he told the kid who stood behind him.

In the first-aid kit: antiseptic solution, cotton balls, gauze pads, bandages, gloves, anti-inflammatory pills, tweezers, cutting needle, and nonabsorbable suture. Realistically, if it could be done right, the stitches could be removed in seven to ten days. Steve had given himself stitches once — a few years ago after cutting his hand open while trying to learn how to shotgun a beer for the first time; it was stupid and he wasn’t going to tell his parents, so he acquainted himself with the surgical supplies in the upstairs bathroom. That procedure was done on a smaller scale, and he could live with administering a fucked-up stitch job on himself, but he wished there were someone more qualified to operate on Nine. “H- have you ever sewn stitches?” he turned his head for a quick second to Dustin, but it bobbed back to Nine, his eyes insistent to stay on her.

“Have I ever- what? No! I’m not even good with the sight of blood, Steve, what are you talking about?”

“She needs stitches and we don’t have many options! I had to ask-” Steve’s arms were crossed but his shoulders still jumped with defensive nature.

“Have you ever sewn stitches?” Dustin emphasized his speech, and Steve wanted to shush him for his loud presentation. He spoke in a hushed tone himself instead.

“Yes, actually, I have! Two years ago, but I did it, and it healed up just fine!” He thought about shoving his hand forward to show Dustin his handiwork, but kept it folded under his arm instead. There wasn’t much more than a faint line to see where he had repaired his skin, anyway.

“Then you do it!” Dustin said, perhaps subconsciously picking up on Steve’s volume and adjusting his own to match.

“I-” Steve was cut off, Hopper appearing with his head stuck through the doorway. The two weren’t hard for him to find. Their bickering traveled in the otherwise empty house. “I have to go, I got a call from the station. I’m not done here — I want to know what the hell is going on at Hawkins' lab, and you’re gonna tell me.” He pointed at them with his hat that he clutched in his hand, spinning it around at his conclusion and placing it on his head. They only nodded at him. “Just…” Hopper trailed off, hand drumming against the door frame. “Take care of her. I’ll be back to check in,” he finished and Steve gave him an ‘okay’.

“Take care of yourself, too. Get an ice-pack or something on that eye, kid,” he said in response as he left.

Tag list: @ggclarissa @hyp-oh-critical @orchideax @we-are-band-sexuals @cpt-lamby @l0ve-0f-my-life @girlyisthatweirdkid @easyvtohat @ireallylikerugby @used-avocado @kwyloz @itzpikapie @samwise-babeyy @stevesvlog @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @mochminnie @peterwandaparker

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve x reader #stranger things #ST fic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #dustin henderson #jim hopper

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

prompt: its a thin line between all this love and hate, for whatever ship you want ☺️

The Carbonell family and the Barnes family were two that vied for complete control over the city, and either side would do anything to the other in order to have it.

Maria Carbonell was a deceptive woman. She cared for the city deeply, but she would pull every underhanded move on the books in order to get what she wanted. She would watch houses burn down over coffee if it meant the Barnes slipped in control.

Similarly, Winnie Barnes had taken over her husband’s mantle after he died overseas, learning what needed kindness and who she needed to talk to.

Their children took to it like ducks to water.

Tony Carbonell was smart, blisteringly so. He could fix a flat tire in thirty seconds, repaired guns in half the time it took the usuals, and learned strategy from his Mama. Tony learned how to subvert expectations that others expected.

Bucky learned how to be the best shooter his side of the city and the Carbonell side, sweet-talked every single cop on duty, and knew how to use his weaknesses to his advantage.

They obviously hated each other.

And went to the same school.

They never talked, not really. Tony kept to himself and looked as far from a young, organized criminal as possible. He wore old jeans, cardigans, and had a habit of pushing up thick glass lenses set in a dark blue frame.

Bucky fit the part a tad better. Old white t-shirts, a leather jacket, and a penchant for challenging others, there wasn’t anything to the imagination. He roared in on a motorcycle, and sent glares Tony’s way any time he saw him.

Tony was unbothered. He had schoolwork to do, coffee to drink, and a rival to undermine. If Bucky wanted to glare at him and not get anything done, hell he was welcome to it.

“You need to actually do something,” Natasha tells Bucky. She’s already in with the family, dedicated to protecting others and making sure the more...unsavory things were kept out of the limelight. “Glaring at him isn’t gonna kill him.”

“Can’t do anything on school grounds, Ma forbade it.”

“Who said anything about killing him at school?” Natasha asks. “Do it elsewhere.”

“He’s gonna expect it.”

“Not if you fool him.”

Bucky isn’t an idiot. He knows that Tony will think about it. He knows that Tony won’t let his guard down. He’s a genius, everyone says so.

But hell, you gotta try. And Bucky has just the story.

Tony’s a sucker for poor cases. The ones that are the outlier, the longshot.

Bucky finds a freshman named Peter who needs a bit of encouragement, but he brings in his old, junkyard car to the Carbonell auto repair shop.

Tony immediately falls for it. He loves helping people, and Peter is no exception. Peter forgets to act, actually being the young, lovable, “take me under your wing” kind of guy.

And then Bucky walks in.

Tony doesn’t say anything, just takes Bucky aside.

“What are you doing here?!” Tony hisses. “You’re lucky no one shot you on sight, Barnes.”

“My cousin needed me to pick him up,” Bucky says.

“Peter’s your cousin?” Tony asks. He turns back to Peter, who is waving. “Bullshit.”

“Not bullshit. True. Thanks for taking care of him. I appreciate it. He’s not in this like we are.”

“Oh, so he doesn’t know that you’re part of a violent organization?”

“Like you aren’t.”

“He’s allowed here. You’re only allowed for pick-up,” Tony says, enunciating his words with a wrench bounced off of Bucky’s chest at each word. “And so help me God if you try to wreck something and I let Peter in, I’m going to make sure that I fucking destroy you.”

Part one is complete. Peter’s doing well, although he says he feels guilty.

“Tony’s nice, Bucky,” Peter says, squirming in the backseat.

“You can say that about serial killers, you think Dahmer fit the bill?” Bucky asks with a snort. “You’re helping family, Peter. Nothing more noble than that.”

Tony knows he’s an idiot. But Peter’s smart, and Tony knows that the Barnes family isn’t like that. They can shoot worth a damn, they can’t teach worth a damn. Peter needs someone who gets it. And he does.

What he doesn’t get is why Barnes comes to pick him up each time. He could send a driver and have common enough sense not to come over. Tony should have enough common sense to report him to his mother or someone. Maybe Rhodey.

But he doesn’t.

Because seeing Bucky Barnes smile down at his cousin, who talks a mile-a-minute, and talk a bit about how his day is going? It’s...refreshing.

This doesn’t mean anything, of course.

Tony can still go on hating Bucky and it’ll be fine. If he needs any reminders, all he has to remember is the time that Bucky had shot Tony’s knife out of his hand when he was up against Rogers.

As it turns out, there’s a more pressing matter to attend to.

Hydra was thought to have been thrown out out of the mix, exiled to have their tiny share in DC.

They couldn’t just stay away, and Tony and Bucky are both more than a bit stressed about what’s going to happen. Everything’s hanging on a thread.

It is when the two families meet that a solution is come up with.

“Look, we’re clearly getting nowhere trying to control one city,” Bucky starts out.

“Agreed,” Tony says. “We can pool resources and work together.” There are grumblings on either side.

“Hey,” Bucky snaps. “Either we disagree on both sides and waste resources or we work together to make sure someone worse taps out.”

“Temporary truce. We share territory, work together,” Tony says. “Team up. Sound good?”

“Fine,” Bucky says. “Just don’t get any ideas.”

“Well we know you won’t get any,” Tony remarks.

So it begins.

It’s off to a rough start when Tony finds out that Peter knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oh so you were playing the long game?” Tony asks. “Wanted to see if I would fall for your charm, Barnes?”

“That was pre-agreement, null and void,” Bucky says. “Be reasonable, sweetheart.”

“Do not sweetheart me,” Tony hisses. “You’re lucky I’m not across the table with a knife on your neck.”

“Dessert first with you?” Bucky asks, grinning. Tony whirls around, leaving the office.

Of course, they need to sell a truce. Everyone basically knows that Hydra’s looking to divide them, and it’ll be too damn easy if they both still hate each other.

Insert “team bonding.” Bucky hates it, it’s a bullshit term. But he’s facing off against Rhodes, Potts, and Banner.

“If you try to kill me I’m gonna put a fork in your knee,” Potts says off-handedly, pouring tea for herself and Banner.

“Not the worst done,” Bucky remarks. “Best you guys got?”

“Believe me after you see her with a fork, you’re gonna avoid spaghetti for a month,” Rhodes says. “A modern work of art, in some cases.”

She blushes at that. Bucky makes a note that she and Nat might get along.

They all actually...get along. Reasonably well. Enough to communicate when taking down Hydra operations on the docks, and to get shakes afterwards.

Tony’s oddly in a good mood with the company of the Barnes’, which he usually isn’t.

“We did good,” he says, stirring the strawberry shake. He has some on the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, we did,” Bucky says. “Still more to come.”

Tony and Bucky learn more about each other over the next months. Tony doesn’t like planning in advance, and rarely follows one to a T. This annoys Steve to no end, and he threatens to bench Tony, which he actually can’t do because Tony’s essential to the missions succeeding.

“You’re gonna have to deal with it,” Bucky says, frowning.

“Since when have you defended him?” Steve asks.

“Since we’re fighting something bigger than our feud,” Bucky answers. “Now shut up and get your tux on. Sooner we can get out of it.”

If there’s one thing Bucky hates, it’s the political galas. They want to get the mayor sweetened up for some changes made in administration. There’s also the guarantee that Alexander Pierce is going to be there, and Maria and Winnie want to make sure that he’s taken care of fairly quickly.

Bucky just hates these damned suits. He hates having to be ready, dressed to the nines in shoes that squeak and his hair swept back neatly.

So of course Tony just has to show up looking sharply elegant. Dark, bloody red suit. Slight make-up. A dusty blush worked up. He looks handsome.

Fuck.

Bucky squirms with his tie.

“Who tied that?” Tony asks, zeroing in on it.

“Steve said it looked fine.”

“Literally no,” Tony swears. “I’m fixing this goddamned thing, come here.”

A.) Tony is short. Perfect height for his head to hit Bucky’s shoulders if he’s ever tired.

B.) This close....well. That’s certainly doing something.

Bucky can barely breathe, and it’s not because of the tie.

“Are you gonna come or are you just gonna stand there and rely on your looks?” Tony asks. “Because it’s not gonna work out as well as you always think it will.”

“That plan only works for you, sweetheart,” Bucky says.

And Tony doesn’t say anything about that. He takes him by the hand.

“United front and all that,” he explains. “If Pierce sees us together, it’s a stronger case for us.”

“Sure,” Bucky murmurs. “Save a couple spots on your dance card then.”

Tony blushes.

“I--sure. I will.”

#mob au #organized crime au #this went two different directions my b #lovelyirony writes #winteriron #this ask has been in my inbox for a LONG time and just now did i find something for it #so that is also my b #bucky barnes #tony stark #YES peter is still baby #peter parker

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imlostinsantacarla · 4 years

Note

How do the gang (individually) react to a SO who's affectionate and supportive

heya hun! i’m so glad you’ve requested this, it was fun to write. i added tim and curly too bc they deserve some love also. i hope that you like what i came up with! - admin kat 🌙❣

HOW THE GANG REACT TO HAVING A S/O WHO’S AFFECTIONATE AND SUPPORTIVE:

Darry: doesn’t always seem like it but he doesn’t ever take your affection and support for granted, although he may come across as cold. he’s a tad bit overwhelmed when he comes home and you plaster yourself to him like glue, he can even appear irritated but he knows that you’re just showing you love him in the only way you know best. he just wishes that you’d give him a minute to get through the door and shower first before you latch onto him. nevertheless, darry is genuinely over the moon when you support him, his brothers and the gang. his hearts wells up like the grinch when he finds the meaning of christmas! it’s in the little things like when you patch steve and soda up after they’ve gotten into a fight with soc’s. helping ponyboy and johnnycake study on the living room floor. talking dal out of some real dumb shit. even by sitting at the kitchen table with him and sifting through all the bills. he turns into the biggest sucker ever when you do this stuff. all the little things you do never get’s overlooked by him. it definitely helps ease his stress knowing that his partner supports him no matter what.

Sodapop: genuinely loves you even more for both of these endearing qualities, if that’s even logically possible??? he loves that your affection and attention is on him 25/7 and when you give it to him... boii is like !!!!!!!!!!!!!! he just knows you love him so much and he’s so excited by it. your support really reinforces it all the more if i’m honest. soda actually balled once about you supporting him bc he opened up to you about a dream of his which was to open up an auto repair shop with steve and you were like “cool stuff man let’s do this!”. and he was believing you’d knock his head in like dar would, but he just was star struck with you. steve had to calm his ass tf down bc soda’s a gREASER AND GREASERS DON’T CRY IDK WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!!! but yeah, he thinks he’s so dumb and stuff, but to have you support him and lift him up makes him unbelievably happy. 11/10 a happy boiii.

Ponyboy: totally gets all blushy when you get affectionate with him in front of others (namely the gang) bc they tease tf out of him. those boys never let him live shit down like that. it only makes you pinch his cheeks and wiggle his face in your hands and that’s when two-bit can’t stop laughing and has to tell the others. he’s a bit sour afterwards but there’s no hard feelings. boii is s o f t as hell for you and loves your affection and support. you never fail to brighten his day tbh. he wants your attention on him 25/8 like soda and becomes a pouty baby when you don’t give him it. and your support? *chef kiss* makes his whole world better bc despite the fact he’s not tough and all, but more sensitive, you’re there for him through it all. did i mention he get’s butterflies and his heart gallops- pls don’t shoot me it had to be said!

Steve: loves it even when he says he hates it. steve loves your hugs, kisses, the way you play with his hair when you cuddle, you name it. just not when the guys are around. gotta keep up the greaser image *finger guns*. you tend to show up at his work with lunch and he’s got complete heart eyes bc you’re all over him. there’s no way in hell soda lets him live that ish down lmaoo. you support him more emotionally and mentally though, which he’s so grateful for because things with his old man can get pretty bad at times and he needs someone like you to bring his big butt down to earth when he’s all high on anger and frustration. like, he’s super hurt when it comes to his dad, so he’ll be ranting and raving up a storm and you’re listening but bleary eyed bc he woke your ass up as 3 in the gODDAMN MORNING and he’s talking about how his life is so shit and you come out with “well i’m not going anywhere but if you don’t get into my bed and let me sleep i’m gonna beat your ass with my pillow”. he’s stunned? bc first of all, you’re a freaking pip squeak compared to him who can’t even hurt a fly, but there’s another part of him that’s taken aback bc you’ve literally opened up your world and door to him for anytime. would 10/10 recommend this joyful boi.

Two-bit: honestly, can’t seem to get enough of you, particularly your affection, but namely your support. it’s kinda a tie can’t you see?? he’s not even annoyed or abashed when you go heavy on the affection, even in front of the guys, if anything, he’s gloating about it and hanging off of you just as much, if not more! if anyone teases you guys or makes a comment he’s got some snazzy comeback, two’s riddled with them. i swear they fall from his mouth like casual small talk. kinda starts fist fights with steve a lot when he does bc our stevie-boi is a bit sensitive. he literally somehow falls in love with you even more bc you’re supporting him positively to cut down on his drinking, get on with his school work a little more, etc. like how can he possibly deserve this literal angel that is you? he probably cries when you’re not looking. i’m not even kidding. probs just bursts into tears and pony and johnny are like you ok mannn???

Johnny: blushes the most out of everyone when you give him affection, especially when anyone’s around. he’s such a happy smol bean and he just loves you with his whole heart and universe like omg! your support means the world to him, he’d cry and be so messed up without you. but you still make him cry nonetheless. but they’re happy tears, i promise!! like he’s so astounded bc you let him stay at your’s bc your parent’s understand the situation and let him come round whenever he wants. you make sure he’s well fed and get’s a good amount of sleep in a place that’s not the lot? you complete him. you make him see that he’s more than just some kid with a bad home in a bad neighborhood... he can be anything and anyone as long as you’re by his side. the little butterflies he get’s when he sees you- !!!

Dallas: not so happy about the affection part in front of others (unless he’s jealous and wants to prove to everyone you’re his) just bc it’s uncomfy for him and he ain’t used to it. but that’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy having you all over him! bc if it was up to him he’d have you all over him every second of every day if he could. ;) in private though he’ll gripe about how mushy you are, reluctantly leaning into your embrace or letting you kiss him. like you’ll want to cuddle or hold his hand and he’ll eventually relent, muttering about broads and stuff. he only makes it seem like he hates it but he actually loves it to pieces. and when you play with his hair??? mmmmmmmm boi is putty in your hands. but seriously, your support means a lot to dal, it shows that you’re loyal to him and if you’re loyal to him he’s loyal to you. like the way you show up at the cooler to visit him brings such a huge smile to his face. no broads done that for him before. treat dally with care bc this boii is sensitive. 12/10 a happy duck.

Tim: kinda iffy about the affection. he’s a tough son of a gun and can’t have everyone knowing he’s got a partner that hangs onto him like a fly does to honey. he loves it though, really, especially when people are looking at you in interest, it serves a purpose then. he’s also in love with when you do it to freak out curly. it honestly made him cry of laughter once bc curly was about to yack in a garbage can. fun times man... fun times. anyway... your support is super wonderful for him. you visit him in the cooler a lot when he goes in, which he didn’t expect bc most people he’s dated never did that or were too mad to even show up. but here you are. you also take care of curly and angela like your own, opening up your door to them and him. he’s got a soft spot for you okay? it’s especially so bc his home life is so bad with his step dad and mum chucking things left right and center, then everyone else joining on in. it’s a tiring place. if he looks back... he doesn’t know how in the hell he survived without you before you came along and wouldn’t know how to go on without you by his side to help. but tell no one that okay? s o f t b o i v i b e s

Curly: mad happy like. until someone fucking mentions it that is. then he’s all talk and trying to get you off him. you roll your eyes bc curly’s really more talk than action and most people know it. but nevertheless, he wants everyone to know you’re his so loves it when you hang onto him like a vice. he’s not really had much affection in his life, so it’s new but he can’t seem to get enough of it. deffo a happy puppy when he gets the affection and attention. and curly’s not all that smart either, but having your support helps him to see that he just see’s things differently from other people and that school isn’t everything. and that’s okay tbh. however, you don’t support his bad behavior but you also know that you can’t change him unless he wants to change himself. he’s only just starting to get these boundaries, just give him a chance. loves your cuddles bc he can fall asleep and he always has a tough time falling asleep bc he doesn’t feel like he can trust anyone other than his brother and sister. and now he’s got you. thank god! literally the sweetest chick ever

If you enjoyed this please heart, reblog and follow for more. 🌙❣

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steves-auto-repair-va · 3 days

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We want to make sure that you and your passengers are in safe hands as you travel down the road.

When performing the Virginia State Inspection, we look for a variety of concerns that could impact your safety.

This annual requirement spans components across the vehicle. The brake system is one of the areas that’s checked.

Different brake problems could cause a vehicle to fail the Virginia Safety Inspection.

#brake problems #virginia state inspection #prince william county virginia #steve's auto repair and tire #brake services

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give-me-back-my-rhodey · 4 years

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The Trio is Back - AUgust Day 7

Title: The Trio is Back

Author: Purple_ducky00

Rating: Teen

Warnings: N/A

Relationships: Bucky/Nat/Tony, Bucky/Tony

Square Filled: N2: Didn’t Know They Were Dating Link: Read on AO3

Summary: Natasha, Bucky, and Tony have been friends since childhood. Everyone speculates that Natasha will have to choose between the two of them. Little do they know she might just choose both.

+++++++++

Tony, Bucky, and Natasha have been friends since toddlers. The Starks, the Barneses, and Natasha’s adoptive parents were a close-knit bunch who played bridge on Thursday nights, usually at the Stark mansion.

As children, the three would run through the house playing superheroes, Super Mario characters, jedi, etc. The Stark butler, Jarvis, always made sure nothing valuable was broken. They would often rope him into their play. As they got older, they calmed down somewhat. Natasha taught Tony to braid so he could braid her and Bucky’s hair. Both would push him to get more intricate braids. Bucky would recommend books for the others to read, and they had a book club group chat where they would discuss plots and theories. Tony lets them in his lab and teaches them about science.

When the three turned ten, the adults would joke that Natasha might have a hard time choosing between the two handsome boys. Natasha’s fathers said she should be able to do whatever she wanted. Natasha never paid them any mind because Tony and Bucky were her friends. Why did she need to choose?

The three were inseparable until middle school. They never had a falling out, per se. They just stopped hanging out. Maybe they were tired of everyone trying to figure out who liked who, or maybe they just wanted more friends. No one actually knows. Tony became close with his lab partner James Rhodes, who he dubbed Rhodey. He also roped Virginia Potts into his trio as well. She became known as Pepper almost overnight. Natasha basically adopted the “school nerd” Bruce Banner and Carol Danvers, the girl most of the guys hated because she was “too feminist.” Carol, an avid lesbian even at a young age, didn’t care. Boys were a waste of time to her. Bucky was fast friends with Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, and Sharon Carter. Every once in a while, all ten of them would hang out, but it seemed like the legendary trio was over.

As they reach puberty, the comments about them increase. Instead of being smelly boys, Tony and Bucky both grow into handsome young men. Both realize as they grow older that they were kind of into boys and girls. Sure, Natasha is beautiful, Bucky thinks, but so is Sam. He doesn’t know how Tony feels about Nat, and since one of them was “destined” to get her, he decides he will step back and let Tony ask her out. He takes Sam on a date, and they are steady for a couple of months. They split on good terms at the end.

Tony has the same line of thought, and he dates Tiberius Stone for a while. Both Bucky and Natasha hate him, but Tony doesn’t know why. Ty is cultured and handsome, a real catch. So, what if he verbally abuses him and guilt-trips him? That’s the way his father always treats him. Isn’t it normal?

Natasha doesn’t date. She doesn’t care to. If people want to speculate, she doesn’t care. She’s only sixteen, why does it matter if she doesn’t have a partner? Her fathers tell her to take her time, and if she never wants to date, that’s her say.

When they graduate, Tony goes to MIT. Natasha gets in at Stanford, and Bucky’s parents can only afford for him to go to NYU. Tony offers to pay for a better college, but Bucky won’t let him. They keep in contact and see each other every break. Tony finally breaks up with Ty in his freshman year, but he becomes a party animal. Rhodey does his best to keep Tony out of trouble, but even he fails sometimes. When he graduates summa cum laude, he takes his place at Stark Industries. Natasha studies to become a lawyer, and she passes the bar easily. Bucky graduates NYU and saves up enough to buy his own auto repair shop. All are successful and don’t have much time to spend with each other or anyone else, to be fair.

++++++

Jan, Tony’s stylist, sets him up on a blind date with a Jimmy because he “works too much.” He shows up at the restaurant she picks out to only find Bucky sitting at the table to which the maître d leads him. “Bucky?”

“Tony? What are you doing here?” Bucky stands.

“I’m as confused as you are.” Tony sits at the table. “Jan told me I’d be meeting a Jimmy. Who the hell calls you Jimmy?”

“Well, she called you Anthony. I can’t believe you let anyone call you Anthony.”

Tony shoots him a glare. “I don’t. Not sure why she told you that you’d be meeting an Anthony… unless she did this on purpose.”

“What? The parents figure that if Nat doesn’t want to date either of us, they might as well put us together?” Bucky’s eyes snap.

“I don’t know.” Tony shrugs. “But it all seems very suspicious, you know? What do you propose we do about it?”

“I think we should eat dinner and go have fun. We both go home to our own houses afterwards and never try to date again, just to screw ‘em.” Bucky smiles sharply.

“I like that. Deal.”

Tony wakes up in Bucky’s bed the next day. “Well, I guess that plan didn’t work out.”

“Yea… I’m torn up between kicking you out now just to fuck our parents or actually fucking you again,” Bucky comments. “Damn, Tones, you’re amazing.”

Tony colors. “Yea, I had a lot of experience in college. People still like to say they spent the night with me even though I haven’t slept with someone else for months now. I’ve just been busy.”

“Same. Who has time to date anymore?” Bucky shakes his head. “It’s a shame because I would love to have nights like last night more often.” He straightens completely and raises a finger. “I have an idea, and you may not like it, but here me out. What if we were each other’s booty calls? Just whenever we need a quick smash, we text the other?”

“James Buchanan Barnes, you are a fucking genius. I would kiss you right now, except my PA’s probably calling my dead phone, wondering where the hell I am. Can we rain check the next session?” Tony hops out of bed, pulling on his pants. Once quickly dressed, he heads to the door to leave and blows Bucky a kiss on his way out.

Using his watch to ping his driver, Tony heads home to get changed before going to work an hour late. Howard doesn’t berate him as much for being late for work, so Tony wonders if he knew something about his date with Bucky. The thought leaves his mind as he gets started on his day. He doesn’t have time to think about dates or meddling parents.

As the months go by, both Tony and Bucky text in claims to their booty call agreement. Tony is happy to do so, but he finds himself catching feelings for Bucky. He wonders if it’s because Bucky is the only one that he’s in close contact with, which he mentions to Rhodey when they get lunch on Rhodey’s first day on leave.

“I mean, I don’t think it’s a good idea to be fucking the only person you have a steady friendship with.” Rhodey steals one of Tony’s fries.

Tony pouts. “Don’t be like that honeybear. You and Pepper are my friends, too.”

“Yea, but I’m in the Air Force more than 80% of the time, and Pepper works for you. It’s different.”

“You’re just jealous that you’re not getting any.” Tony decides.

Rhodey just smiles. “Says who?” Tony begins to assault Rhodey for details, the topic of Bucky forgotten.

++++++

“Hey, Natasha’s moving back to New York, apparently.” Bucky informs Tony one morning. “My mom just texted me.”

Tony groans. “If this becomes another ‘Why don’t you date her?’ thing, I swear I’m going to move to Tahiti and not accept any long-distance calls. You’re welcome to come with if you’d like.”

“I think we should take her out to dinner one night when she gets settled, just to catch up.” Bucky muses. “Then our parents can’t be mad because we didn’t try.”

“Yea, I wonder how she’s been. We haven’t talked in so long.” Tony agrees. “I wonder if she got a partnership here or something. I hope so. That’d be good for her.”

“Nick and Phil will be glad to have her back. If only my parents were as supportive as they are. You should have seen my dad when I told them I was opening my own auto shop.” Bucky smiles that unhappy smile.

Tony laughs mirthlessly. “I’d be happy if my parents talked to me at all. But being that Howard’s always cranky anymore, I guess it’s best that he doesn’t.”

++++++ Natasha moves back less than a month later with a short, sandy haired man in tow. They move into an apartment on the Upper East side. Once she’s settled, she agrees to meet Bucky and Tony for dinner. About ten minutes in, she asks them, “How long have you two been together?”

“Did someone tell you that we’re together?” Tony demands. “Because they’re wrong. We’re simply booty calls to each other.”

She shakes her head. “No, you’re not. You might like to think that, but you’re in love with each other. No one told me; I can see it from here.”

The two men shift in their seats, not daring to look at the other. “So how have you been?” Bucky asks her.

“Busy. Jenn and I are setting up our own partnership. We’ve gotten a lot of cases lined up, and we need a secretary. There’re two lawyers working pro bono mostly down in Hell’s Kitchen. We might add them to our firm and pick up their secretary as well. I saw them in court for the Punisher trials, and she seems to have her stuff in order.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Sorry for not keeping up with you guys. I barely even talk to Bruce and Carol.”

“Mom told me you brought a man home with you,” Bucky says. “She didn’t seem too happy about it. Are you two dating?”

“Clint? No, he’s just a friend. I’m too busy to date, honestly. I’ve tried a couple times in LA, but it turns out I’m very selective of those with which I choose to hang out. Most men are idiots, and I’m tragically straight. You see my problem, right?”

“We don’t feel your pain, but we understand,” Tony says. “Well, what we should do is make sure the three of us hang out at least once a month. If we want to bring our other friends, I don’t care, but I’ve sorely missed you, Nat. And Bucky, maybe we should spend more time together with our clothing on.”

“You say that now, but what about tonight when…” Bucky begins but stops when Natasha gives him her death glare. “Okay, that is still as frightening as ever. Is that how you win all your cases?”

“No. I’m skilled enough that I don’t need to use that.” Nat flips her hair. “But I’m glad it works on you.”

Tony stick out his tongue at Bucky. “She’d never kill me. Who would give her those amazing scalp massages?”

“Now that you’ve brought it up, I demand one once we leave the restaurant.”

Natasha goes home that night realizing that she missed out on a lot of Tony and Bucky’s lives. If she were being honest, and she is, she kind of relied on their parents’ hope that she would one day marry one of the two. She always acted the way she did because she was equally attracted to both of them, and she would never be able to choose. So, she moved away and let them get on with their lives. She never thought once that they would choose each other and leave her out. She tells this to Clint when she gets home.

“Talk to them. Maybe they’ll share.” Clint suggests before he falls asleep on the couch.

She rolls her eyes. “You have a room for a reason.” Natasha knows he’ll still be there when she gets up to go to work the next morning.

++++++

The trio meets up at least twice a month. Per Natasha’s goading, Bucky and Tony start to actually date. She’s happy for them but seeing them sometimes is bittersweet. She just wants to go back to the times where they didn’t have to worry about feelings. All feelings have done for her were made her sad.

One night, they’re eating takeout in Tony’s kitchen when he says, “You can kill me if we’re wrong, but I want to proposition something with you.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. This ought to be interesting. Tony proceeds. “So, Bucky and I are very happy in our relationship, but it could use one more thing… you.”

“Me?”

“Yea. We both really like you, and we kind of got the feeling that you like us, too. Are we wrong?” Bucky bites his lip worriedly.

“No, you’re not wrong. I really like both of you. I have since we were kids. I just never wanted to choose between the two of you. When you got together, I was happy for you. I never thought that you’d both want me as well.”

“Why wouldn’t we want you?” Tony asks. “We love you so much. Obviously, we’ll have to talk about how this is going to work. I hear communication is key to any good relationship. I should know.”

“Also, if we all date, that’s one way to make sure our parents don’t get exactly what they want. Instead of you choosing one of us, you chose both.”

Natasha grins. This is a fine arrangement indeed. “I would invite you back to my place, but Clint’s there. Would one of yours work?”

“It’d have to be Tony’s. I just moved in two weeks ago.” Bucky jabs his thumb at his boyfriend.

++++++

Natasha’s parents are overjoyed when they hear the news, Bucky’s parents don’t say anything, but Bucky knows they are a little wary of his relationship. Tony’s parents, on the other hand, are very vocal. Howard has a yelling fit, screaming at Tony until he loses his voice. Maria asks him why he vexes his father like that.

When Bucky and Nat try to comfort him, he shrugs them off, saying, “That’s the first real conversation I’ve had with either of my parents since I was a kid. Don’t worry; I always knew Howard would have a problem with it.”

“It still sucks,” Bucky tells him. “No matter what, you’ve got us.”

Tony knows he’s happy when both his partners cuddle around him in the middle of their California King bed. Throughout all odds, the trio is back together.

#winterironwidow #childhood friends au #au_gust_2020 #Starkbucksbingo2020 #i write!

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green-eyeddragonfanfiction · 6 years

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War of Attrition: Chapter 13

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Reader Summary: Best friends with Steve Rogers, renowned Howling Commando, and married to one James Buchanan Barnes, your life wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as it could possibly be in the middle of World War II. Then you fell from a train in the Alps, and everything changed. You spent nearly 70 years as a tool of Hydra alongside your beloved, though your past with him was more often than not forgotten. You and Bucky set your plan in motion. It’s time to track down IS-003 and put an end to this chapter of your life. However, per usual, things don’t go as planned. Warnings: Swearing (always), mentions of torture and death Word Count: ~3,929 A/N: Sorry, Diablo 3 has stolen my soul. I swear I’m not neglecting my blog on purpose.

Masterlist // Book One // Book Two

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

It worked, more or less. Bucky’s lip quirked up at the corner, though his smile was more of a grimace. “We’re not gonna stay there though, are we?” he asked knowingly.

You shook your head slowly. You hadn’t wanted to talk about this just yet, but he knew you too well for your own good. “Only for a few days. I’m… we’re not done yet,” you said, nodding your head towards the file that Bucky had carefully stowed on the dash.

Bucky’s gaze turned hard. Determined. There was absolutely zero hesitation when he looked expectantly at you. God, you did not deserve this man. “What’s the plan, Doll?”

The plan, as it turned out, was to retrieve the last of the tech you’d left in Indiana, but only after you’d given the Batmobile flight capabilities. Coulson’s little corvette, Lola, had reminded you almost violently of Howard, though you’d put a lid on those thoughts before you had a breakdown in the middle of your little auto shop.

After that, it was to wipe Hydra off the face of the Earth.

The nano mask you gave Bucky hid his features flawlessly (too well as far as you were concerned. You missed his face the moment he put it on). Austin was elated to find out you had a boyfriend (explaining a readily absent boyfriend was much easier than explaining a readily absent husband). Austin was surprised you were leaving for good after a week, but he didn’t dwell too long on it, which you appreciated. Bucky got twitchy when people started asking too many questions.

Bucky was taking full advantage of the nano skin you’d made for him. He only wore short sleeved shirts and tanks the entire week, not that you could blame him.

When Austin went home for the day and you were alone in the safety of your shop you removed his nano skin and kissed every inch of the scarred skin near the edge of the metal limb.

It was these quiet, peaceful moments that you cherished.

“We could just hide,” you said quietly one day while you were under the Batmobile and half-covered in grease.

Bucky, who was sitting in the chair next to the car, shifted almost silently. “Whaddya mean?” he asked after a moment, though you were sure he knew what you were talking about.

“Steve. And Natalia. And their friend Sam. They’re all looking for us,” you said quietly.

“And so’s the entire world government,” Bucky said quietly.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you fiddled with a capacitor. “Yeah, and the world government is run by a bunch of inept politicians who’ll never find us. We both know Natalia and Steve would find us way before them.”

Bucky grunted and you could almost see the grim half-smile on his face when he spoke. “They’re more stubborn than the rest of ‘em combined.”

“Can’t ever imagine where they got that from,” you muttered dryly.

Bucky huffed dismissively. “Natalia’s at least half your fault and Steve was born stubborn. I ain’t got nothin’ to do with that.”

You sighed and rolled out from under the Batmobile, satisfied with your upgrades. You accepted Bucky’s hand without thinking, a “thank you” slipping from your lips without even consciously thinking about it. How easy it was to slip back into living with this man.

“Fine, I take credit for half of Natalia’s stubbornness... so long as I get full credit for her ingenuity,” you said with a hint of playfulness as you hopped into the Batmobile.

“Denied,” Bucky said through the open window.

You frowned but nodded after a second, considering. “Yeah, I s’pose you were the one to teach her how to make a flamethrower seventy-six different ways, huh?” You said, pushing the button for hover-flight capabilities.

“Seventy-nine, thank you very much,” Bucky said, smile working its way onto his face as the car shuddered then shot two feet up into the air and stayed there, humming gently. “Alfred, you finish decrypting the data we salvaged from Reinhardt’s lab yet?” he asked the air.

“Decryption protocols at 97% completion, Master Barnes. I recommend you and the Mistress finish packing immediately if you wish to leave the moment it is concluded.

“Got it, Alfred. Thank you,” Bucky said easily. It had amused you how easily Bucky had taken to the AI. It was adorable how much Bucky loved all the futuristic tech you’d shown him. He’d always liked [questionable quality] sci-fi pulp novels. While Steve had brought books like the Machinery of War, Heroes of the Western Front, and other military-themed books, Bucky had brought all sorts of science and sci-fi books. When you heard about their visit to the Stark Expo back in ‘41 you’d laughed (back when laughter was much easier to come by, even on the European front). You’d been there that day, helping Stark out (he’d bribed you with shiny schematics and a fat wad of greenbacks that would buy you the raw materials you’d been eyeing enviously for months). You and Bucky had been mere feet away from each other and hadn’t even known it.

“How’s integration with the flight systems, Alfred?” you asked, smiling at Bucky’s retreating back as he went into the apertment. The first few days you hadn’t left each other’s sides, but he’d lately taken to leaving you for brief periods, almost as if he was seeing if he could. There was always a brief flash of relief on his face when he returned and you were there, waiting. You’d curse yourself forever for leaving that doubt in his mind, but you hadn’t figured time travel out (yet), so there was no changing it. You’d have to prove his trust well-placed each and every day from now on.

“Perfectly, Mistress Barnes. Although the decryption has taken some of my computing power, I’m still uploading efficiently into the programming. Transition should be complete by the time decryption is finished.”

You smiled and turned the flight function off, watching out the window as the tires righted themselves and the car dropped back to the ground gracefully.

“You’re wonderful, Alfred. Did I ever tell you that?” you asked the AI with a proud smile.

“At least twice a day, Mistress Barnes,” Alfred said. He sounded fondly amused.

“I’m going to go help Bucky finish packing. Let us know when decryption and integration are done, alright?” you said as you slipped out of the car and gave the hood a loving pat.

“Of course, Mistress Barnes. You will be notified upon completion of both programs.”

You nodded in satisfaction and left the garage to go back into the repair shop through the back door. You immediately went up the stairs to the apartment part of the building, not too surprised to hear the gentle movement of items and clothing coming from the direction of your room.

You turned the corner and watched Bucky work silently, admiring his broad shoulders and lithe, graceful movements.

“See something you like?” he asked after a moment, not pausing in his endeavor of folding up all the clothes you’d accrued in your time in Indiana.

“Yup,” you said, popping the ‘p’ playfully.

That earned a short laugh from Bucky, breathy and exasperated, but it was music to your ears.

“You got alotta clothes,” Bucky said, shaking a flouncy white top in his hand to prove his point.

You shrugged. “Got used to living in one spot for a while. Things tend to gather when you aren’t constantly on the move,” you said, glancing at the single backpack he brought with him, placed on top of one of your duffels.

“Is that what you meant earlier? Hiding in plain sight? Living as other people? Not contacting Natalia or Steve ever?” he asked quietly, hands stilling.

You sagged against the door frame and a deep frown creased your brow and pulled your lips down into a grimace. “They’re doing good now, Buck. Even Natalia. She got out. Saved the fucking world. She has friends now, or at least as close as she’ll ever let herself get to having ‘em. Steve... Steve doesn’t need us muckin’ up his life. He’d fight the whole damn earth if he had to, just to save us. We might need him, but the world needs him more, Buck, even if they don’t know it yet. I won’t make him choose between helpin’ us and defendin’ the world.”

Bucky’s shoulders sagged. He turned his head to smile sadly at you from over his shoulder. “I hate it when you’re right, you know that?” he asked quietly. “I was hopin’ you’d try to convince me to go see ‘em. So I had an excuse to put the lot of us in danger... but being stubbornly reckless was always Steve’s thing, wasn’t it?”

You walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. He leaned back into you and you placed a kiss firmly between his shoulder blades. “Not so sure, Buck. We had alotta stupid to go around.”

He smiled ruefully and turned in your arms so he could gather you up in his own big, muscular limbs. “S’pose you’re right. Again. Peggy really was the only one with her head screwed on right, huh?”

You smiled and refused to let yourself cry as you thought about Peggy and the guys. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“I hate to interrupt, but the decryption and integration programs are complete, Mistress and Master Barnes,” Alfred said quietly from the communication device in your ear.

You nodded and placed a kiss to Bucky’s cheek. He caught your lips in a brief kiss before he released you and finished folding the last few shirts into the bag.

“Where we headed, Alfred?” you asked as you picked up the full bags and began walking to the garage. Your mobile lab was already packed into the space in the hood. The bags would be shoved in the back seats for lack of anywhere else to put them. The Batmobile wasn’t exactly built for travel, but you’d make do.

“Sokovia, Mistress Barnes,” Alfred informed you as you walked into the garage. “It is a country in-”

You waved his explanation away. “I know about it. I read about it more than once in Reinhardt’s physical files. You’re sure that’s where he took IS-003?” you asked as you shoved the heavy bags into the back seat. One was full of Bucky’s weapons. Why that man needed fifty guns when you could build one that could do everything else the others did but better was beyond you.

“It is the most likely location, though not the only possibility. According to the information I’ve gathered from Reinhardt-Whitehall’s data banks, there is an active Hydra base near its capital, Novi Grad. It is under the command of one of the last heads of Hydra, Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker.”

“Still active, you say?” you asked as you slipped onto the hood, waiting for Bucky to bring down the last of the bags.

“That is correct. After the death of Reinhardt-Whitehall, activity increased greatly. It is unclear exactly what prompted the sudden increase in activity. I would recommend moving cautiously until their goals have been discerned.”

“Noted. Thanks, Alfy. Make sure the boat’s ready to go, alright? I want to get there as soon as possible.”

“Or course, Mistress Barnes,” Alfred said diligently.

Bucky slipped in a second later, somehow still graceful even while carrying two large, heavy, bulky bags. If you weren’t enjoying the show so much you might have been perturbed at how elegantly he managed to move at all times.

“That all of it?” you asked as he hefted the bags into the back.

At his nod you pulled him into your arms and stood on your toes to plant a loving, long kiss to his lips. “Let’s get goin’ then, yeah? We have some truly evil bastards to put in the ground.”

He smiled and pecked you once more on the lips. “Now you’re talkin’ my language, Sugar,” he said, voice so low and syrup-sweet that your knees felt all wobbly... and you didn’t even have human knees anymore.

You smiled and kissed him once more, but didn’t let yourself linger. “If you don’t get in the car this instant we’ll be here for another four hours.”

“Four hours?” he asked playfully, waggling his eyebrows at you. “Someone has faith in my stamina. I’m almost a hundred years old, y’know. Give a guy a break,” he said winking playfully at you.

You stared flatly at him. “Your record is eight hours and we only stopped because I was so tired I was passing out from exhaustion.”

Bucky’s grin turned lecherous. “I was a younger man then. I can’t be ex-”

You brought your hand up and slapped it over his mouth. “That was two days ago, Buck.”

His eyes actually twinkled with amusement in the dim light of the shop. It was a look you saw so rarely on his face you couldn’t help but enjoy it. You took your hand from his mouth and brought your lips to his in a slow kiss that left your mind blissfully blank of everything except how wonderful it felt to have Bucky up against you.

“Get in the car, Mister Barnes,” you said after you moved away, a small smile of your own dancing on your lips.

His response was to slip into the driver’s side before you got the chance.

You mock-glared at him before you went to the passenger side and got in. “If you crash the Batmobile you won’t see under my clothes for a month,” you threatened as he turned the car on.

Bucky turned to look at you as the garage door rolled up, smirk dancing on his lips. “We both know that’s not true, Doll,” he said with such conviction that you glared at him in earnest.

“No, it’s not, but I’ll definitely be cross with you for a long time,” you admitted.

“I will ensure Master Barnes does not crash the Batmobile, Mistress Barnes,” Alfred assured you.

“Argh, two against one. Your faith in me is inspiring,” Bucky said dryly as he pulled out of the garage and onto the street.

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s just hurry and get to the coast, yeah? We have a long trip ahead of us.”

Bucky turned to look at you with a stare that had you panicking for a split second. “Whatever you say, Doll,” he said evenly, giving you only the briefest second to ponder your poor decision before he slammed the gas pedal down and sent the Batmobile rocketing forward.

Novi Grad, Sokovia. Europe - 2015

Sokovia was beautiful, if a little poor and very unstable. You and Bucky slipped seamlessly into the population. The people hated SHIELD and the Avengers, especially Steve and Tony Stark. The SHIELD here, though, was Hydra. They slipped in during the rebellions a short time ago.

The Hydra base wasn’t exactly hidden, even if it was a little distance from the city. You could see it up on the hill from nearly every point in town. The problem was that it was heavily fortified. The tech they were using was advanced. Far more advanced than any other Hydra base you’d seen up until now. Even your drones couldn’t pierce the shield they had protecting the main building. There were enough turrets inside and along the perimeter to level the city. You had no idea how to attack it without getting blasted to bits before you got anywhere near the perimeter. The rest of their weapons were advanced enough that you wouldn’t chance the Batmobile’s shielding against their big guns.

“You’re doing the thing again,” Bucky said quietly from the doorway.

You slowly tore your gaze from the schematics of the base, blinking a few times before you processed what he’d said. “What?” you asked eloquently.

Bucky huffed out a laugh and walked over to your spot on the floor, carefully stepping over schematics (though he walked straight through the hologram of the base) and sat down next to you. He pulled you into his lap and you went willingly, squirming a bit until you were comfortable. You tucked your head under his chin and stared at the schematics, mind already going back under. “You’re doing the thing where you try to stare your problems into submission. Have to say, with the exception of Morita, that’s never really worked so well for you,” he said playfully, wrapping his big arms around your waist as he stared over your head at the blueprints and plans.

You sighed and leaned back against him. “According to the civilians I talked to today, ‘SHIELD’ took volunteers from the population to run tests on. They’re being collected by this man, Doctor Henri List. He offers them power in exchange for their cooperation. Most of the people he takes are victims of the riots in one way or another. Wanna know the kicker?” you asked Bucky grimly.

Bucky squeezed you gently. “I have a feeling you’ll tell me anyway, not that I can’t guess.”

You sighed. “Hydra started the riots. They caused the unrest. They changed their public faces a few times, set each faction against the other.”

“So they’ve set the people at odds with their government.”

“And other large global powers, such as the U.S. and the U.N. Not to mention each other.”

Bucky let out a long breath. “So we don’t know who or what exactly could be inside waiting for us,” he surmised.

You nodded and flicked through the images on the hologram. “It’s hard to get readings on the inside of the base while the energy barrier’s up, but the outside defenses are fairly straight forward, if hard to work around. The more I look at it... the more I think we won’t be able to get inside with brute force.”

Bucky tensed slightly, just like you knew he would. “You’re not going in there. Not undercover. If they find you-”

“I know, Buck,” you said, cutting across that train of thought. “I know.” And you did. You knew what would happen if they found out who you were. “But the longer we stay here, the longer that horror factory stays up and running... Primary mission is still to retrieve IS-003 or any information we can find on it, but we can’t just leave them to their own devices. The tech they’re churning out... I haven’t seen anything this advanced since Zola and Schmidt...”

Bucky shifted nervously beneath you. “Do you think it’s the Tesseract? I thought Thor Odinson took it back with him after the Battle of Manhattan,” Bucky said, frowning as he shifted through his mind for the right memories.

You shrugged helplessly. “I can’t be sure. If it’s not the Tesseract itself then it’s something with similar properties. I’ve only been able to analyze a few small samples, but none of them match any models from earth up until now. It’s a combination of Chitauri and something else.” You sighed and relaxed back into his arms, absolving yourself of that particular problem for just a moment. “How did surveillance go?”

You felt him shrug his shoulders ever so slightly. “Nothin’ new. I’ve been keepin’ track of shipments in and out like you asked, but it’s hard to get close without being noticed. I’m good, but they have some seriously sophisticated scanning equipment.”

“That sounds about right...” you said quietly, staring despondently down at the files. You chewed on your lip as you deliberated. “I could... I could call in SHIELD. The real SHIELD,” you said finally, almost regretting the words as you said them.

Bucky tensed beneath you, arms nearly crushing you to his chest. “We ain’t doin’ that,” he said quietly, face buried in your hair. “I don’t trust ‘em.”

You smiled sadly and ghosted your fingers gently over his right hand. “I know, Buck. I don’t trust most of ‘em, either. Gabe’s grandkid is one of ‘em though, y’know. They can’t all be bad,” you said quietly.

“All it takes is one. One word whispered in the right ear by one person who isn’t loyal to Coulson or the new SHIELD and we’re right back to where we were a year ago. Brainwashed, in a cryo pod or out killing innocent people. We’re not trustin’ ‘em, (Y/N). ‘Sides, Coulson said himself he’d bring you in himself if he got the chance.”

“He didn’t try to take me in in Puerto Rico,” you said softly.

“Cause his entire team was beat to hell and you’d just saved Gabe’s grandkid.”

You groaned and ran a hand through your hair. “I just don’t know what to do, Bucky,” you admitted at last.

Bucky brushed your hair out of the way and placed a few tender kisses to your neck. “It’s okay, Doll. You don’t have to come up with all the answers. I’m here. We’re together now. And there’s not a single problem that can’t be solved with some good old fashioned Barnes ingenuity.”

You turned to look at him, faint smile playing on your lips. “Where did this optimism come from?”

Bucky shrugged. “I think it’s less optimism and more an awareness of the lengths you’d go through to get revenge. Hell hath no fury like a woman spurned and all that. And we both know the many, many methods I have for taking down a Hydra base and all the inhabitants. I spend a lot of time fantasizing about it.”

You smirked at him. “Should I be insulted you spend more time thinking about killing people than you do about your lovely wife?”

Bucky raised a single eyebrow. “Who said that? Sweetheart, I didn’t leave the house often because I spent most of my time thinking about ya. It’s hard to get anything done with a stiffy, y’know?”

You stared at him for a moment before breaking into genuine laughter. “Oh my god, Bucky.”

Bucky frowned and got up from his seat in front of the computer and made his way over to you. The tiny apartment you’d rented out while you were in Sokovia meant the two of you were never more then a short walk away and you could hear each other from any part of the house.

“Hey, Doll?” Bucky asked from the doorway, looking at the tablet in confusion.

“What’s up, Sweetheart?” you asked, tearing your gaze from yet another simulation.

“I’m getting some chatter...” he said, frowning down at the pad.

“Whaddya mean?” you asked, still distracted by the numbers running across your screens.

“(Y/N),” Bucky said quietly. Something in his voice made you truly look at him and you froze at the look on his face. “They’re here,” he said softly.

You swallowed thickly. “Who?” you asked, though you were pretty sure you already knew.

Bucky turned the tablet around so you could see the blurry images on the screen. You could see the audio feed that Bucky had muted while he talked to you. He pressed a button on the screen and suddenly voices were filling the cramped room.

“Shit!” said a voice you recognized from countless interviews and reports. Anthony Edward Stark.

“Language!” said a voice you’d know anywhere. Steve Rogers. You nearly laughed at that. It seemed that Steve’s knee-jerk response of rebuking your and Bucky’s foul language had survived the ice.

Bucky paused the audio log and brought up a different one. “At long last is lasting a little long, boys.” Natalia.

“They’re here, (Y/N). Attacking the base.”

Next Chapter

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buckymcbuttfacebarnes · 6 years

Text

Some Other Night

Pairing: biker!bucky x reader

Word Count: about 3.2k (yall i got carried away)

Warnings: lotta fluff tad bit of angst yall know the drill

a/n: long italicized portions are memories! let me know what yall think!!! if yall have any suggestions or requests just message me!!!

my other fics

The bar wasn’t far from home, and because it was summertime the sun still shone with its bright golden glow even though it was nearly seven o’clock, so Y/N decided to walk to the bar and catch a ride back home with Bucky.

The aroma of fried food, alcohol, and cigarette smoke enveloped her senses the moment she entered. Her eyes scanned the dimly lit interior for him—he wasn’t hard to miss. He stood with his back to her, his loose bun and familiar broad shoulders distinguishing him from the rest of his group of biker buddies, a fairly large group of men and like, two women. This was their hangout spot on Saturday nights, which she knew, having been with Bucky and the group for about two and a half years now. Y/N herself wasn’t a biker, she had actually met Bucky at the auto-repair shop he worked in. She went in with the intention of getting an oil change for car and ended up being sweet talked into going on a date with him. One date turned into two, two to three, and so on...until before she knew it they were a legitimate item. This prompted her, of course, to get to know his friends. He had told her that they were his family, the most family he’d ever had anyway.

Sam was the first to spot Y/N upon her entry. He flashed her a wide grin before shouting, “Wifey’s here!”

Bucky turned, beer in hand, a doting look on his face. “Hey, baby doll,” he greeted warmly, opening his arms to welcome her forthcoming embrace.

As her arms wound around his neck a mocking snort of disgust was heard, probably from Nat. “Buck, you big softy,” Steve tsked, earning a giggle from Y/N. It was still amazing to her how different Bucky could be towards his friends and towards her. There were two very different sides to him, an unbeknownst fact to outsiders looking in. He could be so warm and playful, other times so stoic and vulgar. At times like these she got to see both sides at the same time.

“I’ll still kick your ass, Rogers,” he quipped gruffly, pressing a kiss to the side of Y/N’s head. His free hand rested on the small of her back. “I thought you had to work late tonight, doll. What ya doin’ here?”

“What, am I intruding?” she replied in an amused tone, parting from their warm embrace to give the group a look that seemed to say ‘Get a load of this guy.’

“No, doll, it’s-” he began to sputter apologetically, earning teasing laughs from the group.

“Cool it, Romeo, I’m kidding,” Y/N grinned taking his beer from his hand and taking a swig.

“You have got this man whipped,” Sam sang teasingly.

“How many times are you going to say that, Wilson? No, really? How many more do you have left in you? Can we get an estimate?” Tony sarcastically asked.

“Yeah, Wilson,” Bucky chimed with a satisfied grin.

Tony turned to him and tutted, “I’m not defending you. You’re whipped. I’m just tired of hearing Wilson chirping it all the damn time like a fucking parrot.”

Sam’s brows raised before a coy look befell upon his features. “So it’s not the fact that I’m saying it, it’s the tune? Well why you ain’t say that, man? I can fix that right now, hold on, look.” He cleared his throat in preparation.

“Alright, alright,” Y/N cut in with a loud laugh, “We don’t need none of that, Sam...Anyways, what’s goin’ on gang? How’s everybody been?”

It was a simple inquiry, but it was a question that had kicked off the entire night, as it often did. They spent time dishing on their love lives, family lives, personal lives. They had been a close-knit group before Y/N came into the picture—very close...and they hadn’t collectively accepted her with open arms at first. They weren’t unpleasant, but she could tell they were guarded. Wanda was welcoming, by far the sweetest out of the bunch. She assured her that the group would warm up to her...it would just take some time.

“Look, Bucky, I don’t know about this.”

“C’mon, what’s the big deal, doll face. We both know they’re all gonna love ya! Plus, you’ll be hangin’ with me, so you know you’ll have a good time,” the blue eyed devil winked playfully.

“You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“Too soon?” he scoffed, brows furrowing. “Never too soon to meet the gang! These are the people I spend the most time with—they’re like family!”

“Family? Buck…” She stood between his legs. He was seated on the edge of his bed, her hands resting gently on his shoulders.

“Not my real family, but you know. Friend family.” The cool metal fingertips of his left hand gently ghosted across the bare skin of the back of her thigh.

“Still family. What if they don’t like me?”

“Then they’re bigger dumbasses than I thought.”

“I don’t think I’m hardcore enough for these people. They all have Harley’s and cool jackets,” she pointed out factually, lips pursing. “I don’t got that shit.”

“You’re hardcore enough for me,” Bucky grinned that wolfish grin of his. “You like it real hardcore, huh, doll?” he asked teasingly, bringing her down onto the bed with him in one abrupt, swift motion. He began tickling her relentlessly, “Say it, doll! Say it: ‘I’m hardcore!’” He had her in a fit of side-splitting giggles. The sound of her laugh was like a symphony in his ears. It was a beautifully contagious sound, he found himself laughing too. “I’m not gonna stop ‘til you say it!”

“I’m—” the giggles kept her from finishing the phrase.

“You’re what?” he asked mockingly. “Hurry up, dollface! My hands are gettin’ real tired.”

“I’m hardcore!” she shouted, her chest heaving as his hands left her body. Her hands flew up to wipe the tears from her eyes, her laughter slowly subsiding. “Get off of me you fucking neanderthal. I can’t breathe.”

He chuckled and climbed off of her. He pressed a sloppy, lingering kiss to her lips. “So you’ll come. They’ll love ya. You said it yourself, you’re hardcore.”

“Gang, this is Y/N,” Bucky introduced her happily. “Y/N this is...well, everybody.”

She received a collective murmur of hellos and heys as a response. She caught a pretty redhead’s eye for a moment and she smiled. The redhead scowled in response. Y/N noticed the weary look in the broad shouldered, bearded man’s eyes. What did that mean?

The group dispersed on their own after a brief, unexciting conversation amongst themselves and Y/N, some heading to the kitchen to get drinks, others going off to mingle with other partygoers.

Buck smiled at her, “I think that went fairly well.”

“Could’ve been worse,” Y/N shrugged before she herself left to grab a drink.

At the party that evening, Y/N felt completely out of place. Bucky, being the gentleman he was, was hesitant to leave her side when she told him to go mingle with his friends. It took a little convincing, but she finally got him to leave her alone—she couldn’t look like some wimp that wasn’t capable of making her own friends. While she knew she had to go out on a limb here and approach them herself, she wasn’t striving to please anyone. She wanted them to like her, but she wasn’t willing to go out of her way to make herself especially likable tonight.

“Y/N,” someone called out to her above the thrum of the music. She turned to see one of Buck’s friends approaching her. A girl with long brown hair, a very pretty smile on her face. “Hey, you’re one of Bucky’s friends. I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.”

“I’m Wanda,” she introduced herself, a toothy grin on her face.

“Wanda,” Y/N repeated. “Buck talks about you a lot.”

“All good things I hope.”

Y/N smiled, “Oh, always. He speaks very highly of you,”

“He speaks highly of you too, y’know? You’re all we hear about. It’s always Y/N this, Y/N that...That man...he’s gone. You’ve got him.”

A betraying heat rushed to her cheeks as she tried to hide her sheepish little grin. Bucky talked about her to his friends? That was a normal thing to do...why did it make her so tingly and warm inside?

“Oh, I hope I’m not freaking you out...he just...he really likes you, that’s all. Bucky doesn’t tend to like women enough to want to keep them around for too long, you know?”

“I didn’t, but now I do I guess,” she laughed.

“Yeah, uh, don’t tell him I told you that...it’s just the few times he has invested in a girl...girls are mean,” she concluded. It was enough for Y/N to understand what she meant. They were weary of him getting hurt again, which made sense. No one ever wants to see their friends get hurt, especially at the hands of another. “Anyways, I just wanted to tell you that I’m happy he has you...and...don’t mind everyone else, okay? Mostly Steve, he’s protective over him. Nat too.” Wanda shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly and offered another one of those warm smiles. “They’ll warm up to you, just give it some time. They’re real nice people.”

“No, no, no,” Nat objected quickly, waving her hands dismissively. “How many times do I have to tell you this? You guys don’t get to talk about sex. You’re fucking each other,” she exclaimed.

It was nearing eleven o’clock now. The gang had been there for hours, talking about absolutely everything and nothing all at the same time. The found themselves squished in the same booth, those who couldn’t fit pulled up chairs near the booth. Y/N was wedged between Bucky, who had his arm wrapped around her protectively, and Steve.

“What does that have to do with anything? I’ve heard eighty million of your guys’ sex stories,” Y/N responded.

“But, we know both of y’all. Not just one,” Sam explained factually as if it were a science. “It’s just different.”

“She likes it rough,” Bucky stated, wiggling his eyebrows as he looked amongst his group of friends.

“Yes, we’ve heard,” Sam sneered, his nose wrinkling in disgust. A similar look graced Steve’s face, who, despite his facial hair and longer locks, had a very boyish manner about him. Y/N sunk in her seat, her face flushing with an embarrassed glow. “Oh, no—don’t act all shy now. You wasn’t shy when you was doin’ all that yellin’ and moanin’ at Tony’s New Year’s party.”

Thor laughed, his broad shoulders shaking with every eb of laughter. “Oh, Bucky—Oh my God, Buck—ow!” His eyes averted to Bucky, who had kicked him beneath the table. “Not necessary.”

“So, since you two are so open to airing out your dirty laundry, let me ask you this,” began Tony, “when are you two gonna tie the knot?”

“Tie what knot?” Y/N glanced up at Bucky with a playful glint in her eye before she took a few fries from the plate in the middle of the table. They were eating in attempt to sober up enough to make their short rides home.

“The marriage knot.”

“We don’t call her wifey for nothin’,” Sam chirped. There was a pause. Y/N had an inexplicably coy little smile on her lips. She and Buck had only barely discussed the prospect of marriage, though she was very enamored with the idea of being his wife. She stuffed a couple more fries into her mouth, as her friends looked at her expectantly. She turned her gaze to Bucky, she mirrored their expectant gazes.

“Yeah, Buck. When you plan on tying me down for good, huh?”

“Who’s to say I didn’t plan on doing it tonight, hm?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he peered down at her.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Shut up, James.”

“If I asked you to marry me right now, what would you say?”

“I’d say...no, probably,” she teased.

Bucky nodded slowly, began digging in the pocket of his jeans. “In that case,” he began, a cheeky grin coming to his lips as the entire table was silenced. “Y/N Y/L/N,” he was still digging in his pocket. “Will you do me the honor of putting my phone in your purse?” From his pocket he pulled his cellphone and placed it on the table in front of them. There was a mischievous grin on his face. “Please?”

“You damn bastard.”

He got a lot of shit for that one. Steve was convinced he was going to see a proposal and was extremely let down. Tony was just pissed. Sam thought it truly was a “dick move”. Wanda and Nat both said they would kill him, if Y/N desired. Thor thought it was funny.

The conversation changed topic shortly afterwards, returning to raunchy stories of the sexual escapades of the group. And though Y/N loved nothing more than laughing it up at the expense of her friends past sexual ventures, the idea of marrying Bucky was awfully prominent in her mind. She knew it wouldn’t change anything for them. They already lived together, they shared everything. She adored him, she loved him. He loved her too. She didn’t need a ring to prove that love to herself or to him or to anyone else...but still...it was such a magical idea. Was it cliche to think that?

“I think I’ll marry you someday,” Bucky slurred as he walked clumsily into the house, using Y/N as support.

“You’re super drunk, Buck.”

“I mean it. No really, I do,” he insisted with a crooked smile. His eyes were barely open. She led him into the kitchen and handed him a cup of water.

“Drink that.”

“Y/N, doll face, I’m serious.”

She leaned her back against the sink, arms crossed over her chest while she watched the drunken man take tentative sips of his water, his tall figure swaying just slightly. It had been about six months since the couple had began dating. Never in her life had she seen him drunk like this. He was a man who could hold his liquor, she supposed he must’ve gotten carried away—or most likely, Thor had brought that good shit. Within the few months of their relationship it had been difficult getting him to open up, she learned that his feelings, specifically his feelings for her, poured out of him when he was drunk. She wondered if that would ever change.

“Are you listening?” he placed the glass on the counter and stumbled across the kitchen over to her, his hands resting on the edges of the counter on either side of her. He was closing her in, leaving her no room for escape.

“Mhm, I’m listening, James.”

“I love it when you call me that...when you call me by my name. It’s different when you say it.”

Y/N could not hide her grin, her hands reaching up to cup either side of his face. He leaned his head lovingly into her touch, a sigh leaving his lips, his breath tart with the heavy smell of the alcohol.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

“Only...only if you’ll say you’ll marry me.”

“Not tonight I won’t.”

“Some other night then, huh doll?” he asked, his innocent tone almost making her wish that she had said yes the first time.

“Yeah, baby, some other night.”

Bucky gently squeezed Y/N’s shoulder, he brought his lips closer to her ear. It was nearing twelve thirty now. “You wanna get out of here?” She nodded in reply, her head tilting back slightly to rest against his chest.

“Alright guys, we’re gonna head out,” he announced. They slid out of the booth together, one after the other.

“I’ll see y’all later, alright?” Y/N smiled at those who remained in the booth and gave a little wave. Despite her attempts to say goodbye were missed though, the group before her shared a collective gasp, their eyes focused on something behind her. She turned to find that Bucky was no longer standing, but was down on one knee.

Her breath hitched audibly in her throat. What the hell? Her hands flew up to her mouth as she looked down at him. There was an earnest smile on his lips and his eyes shone like the most beautiful blue jewels she’d ever seen. There was a stillness in the air that made her heart race. This couldn’t be real.

Bucky reached into the pocket of his leather jacket, that earnest expression shifting into one of pure confusion as he pulled out a pack of gum. He looked to the group and then back to his girl. “What? I bent down to tie up my shoe, then I found some bubblegum in my pocket.”

From behind her, Y/N could hear Steve muttering, “You fucking punk.” Steve was not one to swear.

She dropped her hands from her mouth, they were now balled up into fists at her sides. If she was a little crazier she might have punched the shit out of him. When he stood he towered over her. Perhaps that would have been intimidating if she wasn’t so pissed. “You’ve gotta be really evil to do some shit like this, you got me excited for nothing!” she accused angrily, though there was a hint of a grin threatening to curl at her lips.

“You want a piece?” he offered, holding out the pack to her.

She did not hesitate to hit it out of his hand, “No I don’t want none of your bullshit gum! What the fuck?”

“What? You said no earlier, now I know you’d say yes,” he teased. He knew she would have said yes tonight or any other night that he might have chosen to ask her. He just enjoyed being an asshole sometimes.

“Whoop his ass, Y/N!” Sam exclaimed from behind her. His statement was met with a clamor of vocalized agreement from the others.

“I love you, baby doll,” he cooed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head as he began to lead her towards the door.

“I should punch you in your face right now,” she shook her head in incredulous disbelief. She and the entire group, had fallen for the same trick twice in the same night. “So you plan on actually proposing sometime or what? I promise you will die if you do this again.”

“Is that a threat?”

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“Alright, fine. Soon, I think.”

“You think?”

“Actually, I know.”

“Alright then when?”

“Dollface, you’ll never see it comin’. It’ll be when you least expect it.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’ll let you do that when we get home,” he winked.

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