bucky turtle

Love Me Honestly (Part 1)

Summary: After the events of For Your Convenience, you and Bucky officially start your life together as a couple (Modern AU). 

Word Count: 764

A/N: After I completely overclouded one of my Bucky/Reader series in angst, I feel like I need to write some fluff. Also, I really missed writing Awkward Turtle and Grumpy Cat and had the desire to write some of their little interactions together as a couple. Hope you enjoy it!

Originally posted by metal-armed-jesus

“Stop looking at me like that, weirdo,” you commented teasingly, hindering the smile on your face. 

Bucky chuckled, lacing his fingers with yours as the both of you waited for the film to start. "I can’t. I’m a sucker for art, and you are a masterpiece,“ he grinned, and you burst out laughing, covering your mouth to muffle the sound. "What’s so funny?” he questioned seriously, arching a brow at you. “It’s true.”

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Divided: Part 20

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1832

Summary: Your journey with T’Challa takes an unexpected turn as he causes you to question things about your relationship and yourself. 

Authors Note:  I am still technically on hiatus for one more week until my sister’s wedding is over, but I had a bit of time today and figured that you guys might enjoy this. Plus I’ve been feeling like shit and could use a small confidence boost before the wedding. <3  I always love hearing from you all, so drop a line with thoughts or predictions!  Tagging is open, just ask, if you are on my tag list and your username has changed PLEASE let me know!

Divided: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19


“You’re never going to find him.” You snarl, your arms crossed against the thick leather belt that held you against the chair. “Do you ever stop talking?” T’Challa rolls his eyes in front of you, his fingers flexing in annoyance as they curl tighter around the steering stick.

“Nope.” You pop your lips, the sound making him wince slightly, “Better get used to it T.C. You’re the one that pulled me from my team and dragged me on your wild goose chase. You can let me off anytime…” You taunt, narrowing your eyes in annoyance.

He refuses to acknowledge you, his gaze darting briefly to the radar as he flies slightly to the left, correcting his course. “Come on T.C. we’ve been screwing around in the air for hours now. I know for a fact it does not take this long to get to Wakanda.”

He smiles slightly, biting his lip as you suddenly start with surprise. “We’re… we’re not going to Wakanda… are we?” You ask in confusion, your brow furrowing slightly at him, his silence causing your heart to beat faster, each thump echoing in your ears.

“Then where… where are we going?” You feverishly glance around through the windows of the cockpit, trying to get your bearings but all you see is black as the rain whips along the outside.

T’Challa smiles slightly, as if he knows something you don’t, “I don’t know yet.” T’Challa speaks slowly, his patience waning as he stares at the radar screen. Suddenly a large area of the radar becomes illuminated as you hear a deafening rumble from below.

“What is that?” You search wildly for answers as you try to look out through the darkened windows of the small jet, but you are unable to see anything but the black sea. T’Challa reacts quickly, causing the plane to tumble sharply to the right, turning at a tight angle to skirt along the sea, shaking with turbulence under the full force of the storm.

“What are you doing!?” You yell, gripping onto the leather straps as T’Challa lets out a slightly exhilarated laugh. “Finding out where we are going… wasn’t that your request?” He chuckles, explaining himself as if none of his flying technique was out of the ordinary.

You glance forward to see a large fortress rise from the ocean, as if it were a fabled sea monster rising beneath the surface, it’s iron jaws springing open to release a small helicopter before closing quickly as it descends back to its home in the depths of the black water.

T’Challa raises the jet slightly, elevating up to the clouds, quickly chasing the small helicopter. “Stark.” You breathe, reading the name emblazoned on the side of the chopper, “We’re following Stark?” You question as T’challa sinks the jet into the clouds, his eyes carefully watching the helicopter above.

“Oh come on… you could at least fucking answer me.” You huff, crossing your arms across your chest once more, your annoyance peaking at being ignored. There is a small flash of light in the distance below the chopper, a slight bit of movement ruffling over the roof of the jet, though nothing appears on the radar.

T’Challa moves quickly, tilting the jet directly upwards as he rolls into position, turning to follow the small streak in the air. “Stark… He knows something… He knows where we are going.” T’Challa affirms, finally providing you with some answers, however cryptic they were.

You sit there staring straight ahead in bewilderment as T’Challa flicks the controls, setting the plane to increase in speed as you follow the air current of Stark’s suit, keeping a safe distance.

“Why won’t you just listen to reason T’Challa. You are King now, your people rely on you, to lead them, to take care of them. But instead you gallivant off in chase of false vengeance?” You spit forward at the would be king, hoping to talk some sense into him.

“How much you think you know, but how little you understand, young arachnid. My father will not know rest until his murderer faces justice, it is my duty to see it done.” T’Challa speaks firmly, his tone biting as you recoil slightly at the sharpness of his tone.

You take a deep breath, your attitude returning in full force as you find your voice once again, never being one to lose it for long. “First off, how many times do I have to tell you? Bucky did not kill your father, it was this crazy guy who impersonated the psychiatrist, he has a plan to awaken these deadly assassins in…” You stop yourself before giving away the location, not wanting to aid T’Challa in his quest.

“He didn’t do it T’Challa, you’ll see I’m right in the end.” You finish, your voice losing its hostile tone, as you implore him to hear you. “And the second thing?” T’Challa asks quietly, requesting the latter part of your argument.

“The name is scorpion, not arachnid.” You speak firmly, declaring your title for his use. He nods, smiling slightly at your defiant tone.

“Ah, yes, the scorpion. Known for its stinger, dulling out critical hits from a small puncture wound.” He speaks softly, chuckling slightly to himself, “Tell me scorpion, is that the only reason for your title? Your exceptional ability with knives?” He raises an eyebrow.

You don’t respond, not knowing where he is going with the question, confused at T’Challa’s sudden desire to talk to you. “No.” He answers softly, responding to his own question, “I believe not. It is not just your deadly skill… it is your nature… to defend yourself; to attack.” He speaks slowly, his words swirling in your head as something tenses inside your chest.

You bite your lip, your eyes stinging slightly as tears prick at the back of them. Your fist curl into defensive balls as your shoulders roll back into a broad position. You couldn’t quite explain why T’Challa’s words were causing such a visceral reaction in you, or why his simple statement caused your stomach to twist into knots, but the dark truth of his words caused every hair on your body to stand on edge.

“I spoke once before about the story of the scorpion and the turtle. In my culture, we tell this to growing children when they reach the age where they begin to find themselves.” He takes a deep breath as you watch him, your shoulders tense, awaiting his lecture.

“One day a scorpion needed to cross a river, so it implores a turtle to please carry it across the river. At first, the turtle hesitates, unsure of whether or not to trust the scorpion, fearing that it might be stung.” He begins, you roll your eyes as he lectures you.

“The scorpion argues with the turtle, reasoning that if it was to sting him, then they would both drown… The turtle considers this, realizing the logic of the scorpion’s argument and agrees to carry the young scorpion across.” T’Challa speaks slowly, wanting every word to resonate with you.

“And let me guess,” you snarl, your anger flaring forcefully in your chest, “The scorpion stung the stupid turtle anyway.”

“Yes.” T’Challa said simply, “The scorpion stung the turtle, dooming them both. And when the turtle asked the scorpion why, do you know what it said?” You stay silent, knowing him well enough to predict that he was about to answer his own question.

“The Scorpion replies that it was in its nature to do so.” T’Challa falls silent, waiting to see the effect that the story had on you.

“So what? You’re saying that I am self-destructive? You’re not the first one to notice that T.C.” You snarl, your defenses rising again. “Besides the turtle should have been looking out for himself, you expect me to believe that his shell failed to shield him? Or that he was actually dumb enough to believe the scorpion?”

“You miss the point young one.” He interrupts you, recognizing the defensive tone in your voice, “The scorpion does not sting the turtle for self-destruction. The scorpion is fundamentally vicious… vicious in its nature… it will not change.” T’Challa finishes, falling silent once again, leaving you to think.

“So is it about me? Are you saying I’m vicious?” Your hostility rises as his insults sting inside of you, touching on nerves of truth that you subconsciously kept controlled.

“I’m not saying anything, Y/N. It’s just a story…” He smirks to himself as you sit behind him in silence. His words reverberating in your head.

Who was he talking about? What was he talking about? What all does he know? Your heart pounds quickly as your mind races, is he referring to what I did to Steve… how I hurt him, how I stung him? So if I am the scorpion… Then is Steve the turtle… Or is Bucky now the turtle? Your eyes squeeze shut, your head aching slightly with your swirling thoughts.

Is Bucky the scorpion? It would not be far off that T’Challa thinks him vicious…Why insist on telling me this story if there is no point to it? You glance through the window, noticing the terrain had changed in the time you had gotten lost in your swirling thoughts. The area outside had become mountainous, snow coating the ground and peaks of the rising crests.

“Where… where are we?” You ask, getting nervous at the sight of your new location. T’Challa does not answer you, remaining silent as he fiddles with the controls at his fingertips, his eyes never moving from the wind shield.

“T’Challa,” you speak more firmly, demanding him to answer you, “We are passing over western Russia at the moment.” He says quietly, paying careful attention to your quickening breath at his words.

He knows. He knows Bucky is in Siberia. “T’Challa,” You start slowly, knowing your hand had already been played for you. Your only hope now is to reason with him on your lover’s behalf.

“I am done listening to your arguments Y/N. I have heard your words and have weighed them against my evidence. They have been found wanting.” T’Challa speaks quickly, his tone calm, but assertive. “I will do you the service of taking him captive. Thus leaving him alive, and able to stand trial. This is all I will guarantee you.”

You sit silently, thinking through T’Challa’s offer, knowing at the least it was a guarantee of Bucky, remaining alive… T’Challa would give him a trial, he would see once and for all that Bucky was innocent, you were willing to take those odds.

You smile slightly, now understanding Natasha’s promise that she was doing you a favor. At the very least you had the guarantee of Bucky’s survival… Your stomach clenches as you suddenly realize how faint of a guarantee that was, knowing full well what Steve and Bucky had headed towards, hoping that Tony, T’Challa and yourself would be enough to help them.


Tags: @imhereforbvcky @heismyhunter @iamtal @nickel5socks @ohmygoshbucky @person0thats0not0a0people0person @spacegaystrashcompactor @creideamhgradochas @shamvictoria11 @discophony @imheretomarvel @k-nighttt @lbouvet @mitra-k-w @pabegay1 @unevenpages @spookymlder @ginamsmith @sapphire1727 @making-the-most-0f-it @alphaallie @supersoldierslover @denialanderror @nykitass @colt-eleven-impala-sixtyseven @feelmyroarrrr @lilacs-lavender @yknott81 @almondbuttercup @callamint @thisisthelilith @angel–radio @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @nikkitia7 @himasugi @amrita31199 @avengerofyourheart @nodramaaloud @ailynalonso15 @you-didnt-see-that-cuming @watch-out-for-thorns @thewintersoldierprogram @skeletoresinthebasement @specs15 @marvel-lucy @seargantbcky @hardcorehippos @brittanymcsharry @runaway-escape @byebyebyelilsebastianstan @buckybarnesisalittleshit @demondeansdomme @emmatheawesome @buckyn0 @kaiyaisbae @i-swam-through-twelve-oceans @umm-sorry @originalaura @chrisevansisdaddy04 @captain-sassy-bum @mairhof1 @dont-let-me-go-again @givemethatgold @sorryidontspeakgrounder-world  @kristygear @factorfreshness @maygenjayne1 @eloquentpetrichorpeculiar @charlottedurin99 @sammyissassy @earinafae @the-witching-hours12-3 @imamoose @sarahgracej @misty-summer-nights @magicintheelements @alphasoldier @mrsnegan25 @superwinterlockhook @luckynumbrnelly @toinfinityandbeyondaffection @the-girl-without-a-face @theginamariestaytion @coffeeismylife28 @loveyourselfcreateyourself @lost-in-the-stories @blueeyedboobear @angiesanchez314 @bridgeneem @cornflax01 @shifutheshihtzu @cheythehulk @movingonto-betterthings 

For Your Convenience (Part 5)

Story Summary: To help you finally make a move on your long-time crush, you get assistance from your newly hired co-worker. (Retail/Department Store AU)

Word Count: 827

Masterlist

A/N: Sorry about the long wait!

Originally posted by duckybarness

You shook your head and tried to shake off the anxiety that surged in your veins, but it was no use. You couldn’t go through with his advice. “I can’t do it. I can’t do what you’re telling me to do, Bucky. It’s too much.” You paced around the Fulfillment office and threw your hands up in the air. “I’m hopeless. This whole situation is hopeless. It’s better if I don’t do anything so I won’t embarrass myself.”

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anonymous asked:

Did you by any chance get to read my story I tagged you in a while back? About Bucky and turtles?

I don’t think I got any tags! 😰sometimes I’ve noticed that tumblr is starting to fuck up whenever I get tags for fics now!

If any of you guys have tagged me in fics, don’t be shy to send them to me in message! Tumblr loves playing games w/me all the time 😤❤️❤️❤️

12 days of Kissmas #4

Originally posted by littlechristmasblog

Plot Summary: Bucky’s promised for the next 12 days until Christmas to surprise you with a different kiss each day.
Day 1|Day 2| Day 3|Day 4|Day 5|Day 6 |Day 7 |Day 8|Day 9|Day 10|Day 11|Day 12

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me four turtle doves.

Bucky had been in his room; he woke up in a brooding mood.
He didn’t want to see anyone, he didn’t want to do a thing, he just wanted to stay in his bed and sulk the day away. He would have done just that if the smell of cookies hadn’t have filled his room.

He walked down the corridor to the kitchen to see you, hair pinned back, apron on, dancing to ‘I wish it could be Christmas everyday’ whilst you got some more ingredients.
He leant against the doorway; just taking in the sight before you’d notice him.

‘If you’re not doing anything Barnes, you can grab the flour at the top of the cupboard for me’ You said, back still turned.
You startled him ‘How did you know I was here?’
You glanced over your shoulder ‘You’re not the only assassin in the building remember? You joked.
Bucky wandered to the cupboard, pulling out the flour. You were at the opposing counter, with your back turned.

‘Hey doll?’
‘What?’ You replied, you turned to face him, when you were smothered in a cloud of flour.
‘James Buchanan Barnes! What the hell?’
Bucky doubled over laughing at you covered in flour, he failed to notice you pick the eggs up from the counter to launch them at him.
The laughter was equally matched when they splatted against his head.
‘Hey Buck! You could say you look EGG-cellent!’ You howled, holding your stomach.

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh with you, he pulled you in closer by your waist.
Despite your turbulent friendship; you enjoyed moments like this with Bucky.
He tilted his head, moving closer to you.
You mimicked the action, shutting your eyes.
Lips slightly parted in anticipation.

Then you felt it.

A soft brushing against your nose.

You opened your eyes, confused.
Bucky smiled and sighed.
‘On the fourth day of Kissmas, my true love gave to me some eskimo kisses, a flutter of butterfly wishes, a good luck forehead peck and a smacker right on the cheek!’ He sang to you playfully.
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head grinning.
Bucky rested his forehead against yours, ‘Doll?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Me and you? We should batter up!’

You pushed him away, jokingly.
‘Barnes that was awful, get out of my kitchen’ You teased.

Tags: @too-coolio-for-youlio1 @hopelessjoyful-dreamer @maece-rette @twentyonebuckys @bexboo616  (won’t let me tag for some reason) @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes @shamvictoria11  @hannah-caitlynn 

dianaprincv  asked:

Imagine Steve and Bucky once get stopped by humans of New York while they are on a walk and they get asked a question about their relationship

Neither of them is quite prepared, so when they see their photo later on the HoNY website they have to laugh–in the photo, both of them have their hands stuffed into their pockets, heads tucked down into their scarves shyly.

The photographer had asked, “what’s been the hardest part of knowing each other?”

Steve had been about to answer, but Bucky spoke first: “Not knowing each other. You know?”

“Not really,” the photographer said. “What do you mean?”

Bucky looked over at him. Steve waited, trying not to breathe, looking back. “Some days I’m just not myself,” Bucky had muttered, and this was when Steve had blushed and ducked his chin down. After a moment, Bucky copied him, turtling down into the sharp red scarf Steve had knitted him for Christmas.

When they continued on their walk, Steve reached out and tugged Bucky’s hand from his pocket so that he could hold it.

For Your Convenience (Part 15)

Story Summary: To help you finally make a move on your long-time crush, you get assistance from your newly hired co-worker. (Retail/Department Store AU)

Word Count: 1,563

‘For Your Convenience’ Masterlist

A/N: *screams internally*

Originally posted by comicbookstuffdaily

Entering the back office by the home registers, you spotted Bucky tinkering with the RFID scanner. His brows furrowed in concentration as he tapped his fingers on the display, a low growl fleeing his lips. Oblivious of your presence, Bucky muttered of slew of obscenities and restarted the device once more, rubbing his neck in frustration.

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For Your Convenience (Part 7)

Story Summary: To help you finally make a move on your long-time crush, you get assistance from your newly hired co-worker. (Retail/Department Store AU)

Word Count: 941

‘For Your Convenience’ Masterlist

Originally posted by imaginingbucky

One week.

For one week, you somehow managed to avoid Steve and Bucky at work. Upon getting orders for men’s shoes, you used the freight elevator and sneaked through the back to enter the stockroom. As for Bucky, you were able to sneak pass him by utilizing the bedding stockroom to enter the Fulfillment office through the back door. When you took your break or lunch, you went out to the mall and completely avoided the break room. Of course, Natasha was less than pleased by your new behavior since she never got to see you unless you looked for orders in her department. Nonetheless, you still went on with this charade to avoid further embarrassment.

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paxfelis  asked:

Nobody messes with Bucky's stuffed turtle.

HAHAHAHA

Title: New Pets
Rating: G
Summary: It’s not a likely gift, but it’s a well-loved one. 

Looking back, it was a weird, unlikely intuitive leap. Steve liked to think that he was reasonably sensible when it came to interpersonal relations, but he wasn’t psychic. Still, he’d known Bucky almost their entire lives, sort of, which had to count for something.

He’d never been to an Ikea before Sam announced they were going, because a good-natured scuffling match in the living room between two super-soldiers had accidentally thrashed one of Sam’s bookshelves, and Steve therefore owed him a new one. Steve was unprepared for the Ikea Experience. 

He followed Sam around the store, wide-eyed, asking more questions than he knew was sane for an adult person to ask. Sam was looking for bookshelves but they walked the entire store, testing out sofas because they looked comfortable (some looked much more comfortable than they were) and investigating strange light fixtures. Sam bought lunch at the Ikea cafeteria, and Steve at a little of everything and a lot of meatballs. 

They’d actually managed to pick out new bookshelves (and a new chair, which Steve said they needed since three men squeezed onto one couch was kind of…intimate) and they were on their way to pick up the boxes when they passed into the home-goods-and-strange-kitchen-implements section, and were faced with a wall of stuffed turtles. 

“Those were big for Christmas last year,” Sam said. “Year before, it was sharks.”

Steve touched one of the turtles gently. “It’s really soft.”

Sam gave him an eyebrow. “You want a turtle?”

“No, I – ” Steve took one down and squeezed it. “Squishy." 

"Because if you want a turtle, I’m not here to judge.”

“Not for me,” Steve said, inspecting the head and limbs. He shoved the head into the shell, then squeezed. The head popped out again. “For Bucky.”

Sam gave him a look that said Crazy super soldiers from the forties be crazy but he just put the turtle in the handbasket with the new spatula and desk lamp he was buying. 

By the time they got home, Steve was regretting the purchase, because it seemed weird, but when he put the bag on the table, Bucky set down the box of shelving he’d been carrying in and said, “What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s uh, I got it for you, it’s…a turtle,” Steve said. Bucky reached in and took it out of the bag, running his metal hand over the fluffy shell.

“It’s soft,” he said.

“Well, that’s what I said,” Steve agreed. Bucky carefully carried the turtle to the living room and set it next to him on the floor, crossing his legs to start opening the bookshelf box. He spread out the instructions on the turtle’s shell and set to work methodically assembling shelves. 

By the time the shelf was fully assembled, Mischa the Turtle had migrated to the sofa, and Bucky went back and sat with it as soon as the shelf was placed. Sam braced it to the wall while Steve opened some beers and Bucky watched, his hand still rubbing little circles in the fur on the turtle’s head. 

“You gonna help me with this chair or what?” Sam asked, as Bucky pulled his legs out of the way and Steve started cutting the plastic off the chair parts. 

“No,” Bucky said, turning the TV on. “We’re watching TV.”

“I got it, Sam,” Steve said, grinning over the edge of the chair’s packaging at Bucky. “New pets need a lot of attention.”

“Get stuffed,” Bucky suggested, popping the turtle’s head into its shell. “Misha wants to watch you make fun of the History Channel."