i wonder why steve was completely at a loss of words


Prompt/Summary: You’ve given the rest of the team nicknames, but Bucky wonders why you’ve never given him one.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: fluff, fluff fluffity fluff fluff

Word Count: 1197

Author’s Note:  Sorry Bluebird isn’t done.  So you get this instead.  I had a dance performance on Sunday and all of my evenings have been taken up by dance practice.  All done now, so back to writing. 

Originally posted by snowfox934

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Punk (Chap. 7)

Originally posted by miamirasmus

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 2510

Warnings: Same as always

A/N: Thank you for all of the feedback again I’m completely blown away.  Sorry that tags have been finicky, not sure what tumblr’s deal is lately.  I hope you like this chapter, thanks for sticking around!

The crisp, cold air outside the club was a welcoming relief but did little to halt the burning tears cascading down your cheeks or the hot waves of mortification and shame radiating out from deep within your very being.  The cold air bit at your nose and throat as you allowed yourself to suck in great gulps in attempts to keep the impending panic attack at bay.

This can’t be happening, this wasn’t supposed to happen.  Ethan stood at the curb, attempting to hail a cab while you toiled over your interaction with Bucky.  This wasn’t like how it was in the movies.  Wasn’t Bucky supposed to be completely awestruck with your transformation? Shouldn’t he have been at a loss for words? Instead he was completely taken aback for all the wrong reasons. He’d looked at you with utter confusion, probably wondering what the hell you were doing in a dress, wearing makeup, sporting heels, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing…and he didn’t like it at all.

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A Study in Hypocrisy #2.2

Or why the Avengers’ relationship to Tony was unhealthy at best, Steve isn’t fit to be a leader, and why I’m Team Iron Man to the end.


Tony’s relationship with the Avengers has always made me uncomfortable. For the longest time, I couldn’t put my finger on why exactly, but I’ll try to organize my thoughts in this series.  

This post was getting far too long, so I decided to cut it into parts, one per Avenger.


Steve’s relationship with Tony is bathed in hypocrisy and double standards right off the bat. When Steve meets Bruce, he tells him that he doesn’t care about his reputation and will essentially make up his own mind about what kind of person he is from what he sees as they work together. 

Yet he doesn’t apply that very same standard to Tony, instantly judging and comparing him to Bucky. 

Big man in a suit of armor. Take that away, what are you?


I know men with none of that worth ten of you.

Avengers (2012)

Where does Steve get off judging Tony like this? Reading a file doesn’t give him intimate knowledge of who Tony is as a person. And his fortune has nothing to do with who he is inside. Indeed, it sounds like he holds Tony’s fortune (which he worked hard to build—whatever people may think, SI’s products didn’t invent themselves) against him. Which makes no sense? 

In Winter Soldier, we see quickly enough that neither Steve nor Natasha trust Tony. When they show up at Sam’s, they promptly tell him everyone they know wants to kill them, which is so absurdly stupid and wrong I have no words for it. Tony would never ally with HYDRA. Tony designed the freaking helicarriers. Hell, he’s a tech genius. He was the obvious choice in this case! He could have provided them with a safe house, any supplies they needed, backup and unlimited technical help. 

But do you think they went to him? 

Nooo. And why? Apart from “they’re stupid and Marvel didn’t want to pay for RDJ,” because Steve already knew about the Winter Soldier killing Tony’s parents. They could have avoided dumping all of SHIELD’s files on the internet. They could have protected the hundreds of undercover agents who were caught unawares once their legends were blown. They could have protected those agents’ families. They could have protected the agents who weren’t undercover, but still carrying out missions at the time. They could have avoided the crazy damage caused by three giant flying machines shooting each other out of the sky right over Washington DC. There would have been considerably less loss of life had Tony been involved. 

And yet they chose to keep him out of it. 

And here’s where it starts to get very sour, and where I get very, very bitter. 

Around rolls Age of Ultron and Steve is so, so quick in putting the blame on Tony. Like everyone else, he promptly forgets Bruce’s involvement, and makes Tony the sole culprit. After 3 years fighting side by side, he doesn’t even give him the benefit of the doubt. He doesn’t pause to think of somebody other than his precious little self and wonder if, maybe, he’s not so special after all and others might have experienced visions, too. 

Nope. No, it’s evil, it’s bad, so it’s gotta be Tony’s fault. 

Then, there’s the culmination of his hypocrisy: “Sometimes, my teammates don’t tell me things.” 

Okay. First, who the fuck do you think you are, asshole? You don’t get to demand that your teammates tell you everything? What the hell! Nobody owes you anything whatsoever. 

Second, who the fuck do you think you are to demand complete transparency after keeping the secret of said teammate’s parents’ death for over a year? 

This pissed me off. so. damn. much. 

Pardon my French. 

The sheer hypocrisy, people. The balls! 

Now then. What about trusting freaking Wanda Maximoff over your teammate? She suddenly realizes that she’s gonna die too if the world ends, switches to your side out of sheer convenience and self interest, and after 30 seconds you take her advice that “Stark is evil” like she’s the Messiah? Wow. It must be nice to be so convinced of your own self-righteousness. 

Finally, Civil War

Let’s forget about the fact that Steve probably didn’t read the Accords. The entire thing has to have taken place over the course of, what… a week at most? Starting with the introduction of the Accords. There is no way in hell Steve—or anyone else on his team, really—would have managed to read and understand a piece of legislation as complex as the Accords in that time. No way. Which means that he heard a vague description of it and said “no” for… what reason again? 

But I digress. 

Tony offers compromises. He works his ass off to come up with a way to wipe Steve and Sam’s record clean, and to offer Bucky therapy instead of prison. He keeps reaching out, over and over again, only to have his hand slapped away by Rogers. But unlike Rogers, Tony doesn’t dismiss Steve’s claims that there are other Winter Soldiers. He investigates the information and then, because his heart is too big for his own good, he still goes to Siberia to help. 

And there are 5 more super soldiers just like him. I can’t let the doctor find them first, Tony. I can’t.

Captain America: Civil War (2016)

Because where Steve says “I,” Tony says “we.” Because Tony Stark, who “doesn’t play well with others,” is the one who keeps reaching out and trying to move as a team. Because Steve, who keeps preaching about fighting “together” and not having secrets, keeps his tightly under wraps. Again, do you think Sam and Bucky were aware of Tony’s deal? 

Back on topic, Tony goes to Siberia to help Steve, who then proceeds to invalidate his trauma and pain at seeing his parents die in front of his eyes. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, of course Tony’s not stupid and realizes that Steve knew. But instead of confessing, Steve lies to his face all. over. again.

I will not even go into that condescending letter, which could be summarized like follows: “I’m sorry you don’t understand that I was right and you were wrong, and if you’re prepared to beg for forgiveness and freely offer your house, your toys and your money to me again, I might just, after some time, agree to forgive you. P.S.: How is it, being all by yourself in that huge place?”  

Steve is a hypocritical, holier-than-thou asshole and needs a kick where the sun don’t shine. Tony better not forgive anyone until they grovel for at least 10 years. 

ETA: Also, that “I could do this all day” line infuriated me to no end. Implying that Tony’s being a bully when he’s just been stabbed in the back by his teammates while he was trying to do what was right is downright petty, stupid, awful and shitty


Part 1

Part 2.1: Natasha | Part 2.2: Steve | Part 2.3: Thor

All Mine - Bucky x Reader

Plot: Jealous Bucky is NOT someone you should get on the wrong side of.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 3897 (literally why this took me all week)
Warnings: Grinding (dancing), spanking, penetrative sex, orgasm denial. Yup.
Author’s Note: I’m sorry for being so MIA lately. School is killing me. BUT, here’s angry Bucky smut for your Friday night ;)

Originally posted by wintersthighs

When it comes to Bucky, you’ve never met anyone who can crawl under your skin like an annoying insect, while at the same time, makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. Bucky makes you feel like you’re only thing that matters. The thing is, though, it’s not like you’re dating. The both of you just spend so much time together that it ends up being more beneficial than not. The second your skin collides with his, fireworks go off in every direction and the two of you go at it for hours.

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Lift - Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You confess to Steve that you’ve always wanted to do the Dirty Dancing lift. Somehow, he agrees to do it with you.

Warnings: Kissing

Words: 1 515

A/N: I just really like the Dirty Dancing soundtrack. I have no further motivation for this.


Originally posted by ohevansmycaptain

“You are, by far, the most persistent man I’ve ever met.” She said, watching Steve polish his shield to nothing but perfection. He looked up in surprise as her entrance had gone completely unnoticed to him. “It’s almost admirable.”

He rolled his eyes, sighing. “If you came here to mock me, you can keep walking.” He continued to circle the rag in his hand over his beloved shield.

She sat down on the steps of the short stairs in the middle of the armory which led up to slightly raised floor, holding her cup of soda and taking a sip from the straw. “I didn’t come here to mock, I came here for company, if that’s something I’m still allowed to have?”

“Of course it is…” He said defeated, tired of her dramatics yet still in love with her personality.

“So? Anything new happening in your life?” She tried to get a conversation going and he looked up at her, honestly questioning if she was serious or not.

“Like you haven’t been around me the past two weeks?”

“Just answer, damn it.” She said, straw still between her teeth.

He sighed again. “Well, I’ve watched a few movies that have been on my list for a while. That’s about it.”

“About that list… Can I see it?” She asked, watching him sincerely. He dug it out from his pocket and threw it to the steps she were sat at. She picked it up, flickering through the pages and briefly skimming through the words. “Which movies did you watch?”

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Some Like It Hot and North by Northwest.” He answered and watched her brows knit together before she looked at him judgmentally.

“Those are all movies from your time, you need to see something fresher, like Fight Club or the Jurassic Park movies.”

“First of all.” He met her narrowed eyes. “They’re not from my time. They’re from the fifties. I think Breakfast at Tiffany’s is from the sixties even. Secondly, I don’t like all that new stuff-”

“I said fresher, not new. Both Fight Club and the first Jurassic Park movie were released in the nineties.”

“Still too fresh… What can I say? I’m old fashioned.” He smirked and she rolled her eyes, laughing sarcastically.

“Can I write a movie down?” She asked after a few seconds, eyes glued to the scribbled things and people on his list.

Steve hesitated. “I don’t want to watch anymore new stuff. Sorry.”

“Oh come on, it’s from 1987! That’s over three decades ago… I really want you to see it!” She pleaded, putting her drink away and focusing on him completely.

“Why do you want me to see it?” He questioned, removing his focus from his shield which had been spot-free for fifteen minutes.

“The movie is called Dirty Dancing… At the end, there’s this historical scene where Patrick Swayze picks up Jennifer Grey with Time of My Life playing in the background. It’s epic, believe me, and you’re probably the one around who’d be most willing to do that with me.”

“You want us to dance?” He pulled his back, wondering if it was truly Y/N sitting before him.

“Well, if you wanna dance then I’ll dance, but it’s just this lift… Here, let me show you.” She handed back his notepad and dug out her phone. “If you’re too stubborn to just watch the movie, I’ll show you the scene.”

She found the clip in mention after a minute and held her phone out to Steve, who watched the screen with focus like she had never seen before. Baby and Jonny danced their hearts out before nearing the end where she ran into his arms, flying up in the air graciously.

“Boom. Classic.” Y/N said as the video ended, throwing her phone on the table nearby.

“You want me to lift you like that?” He continued his questioning as he was still a little loss, and also wondering if he was dreaming or not. Ever since Y/N went from working with the Avengers occasionally to moving into the Tower full time, he had began to slowly like more and more of the unique girl.

“I want the music too, of course.” She said it like it should have been obvious to him. “I want a bit of feeling, you know?”

He tilted his head back and forth before shrugging. “Alright, let’s do it.”

She blinked, staring at him. “What?”

“Let’s to the dance, lift, whatever.”

“Right here?”

“Right now.” He confirmed and stood up from his seat. He took off his jacket so he was left in a white t-shirt and held his hand out for Y/N. She grabbed it hesitantly, not being able to tell if Steve was messing with her or not. He pulled her to her feet before turning up to the speaker in the ceiling. “Friday? Could you put on that song for us? The one we just played?”

Playing it now, Mr. Rogers.” She confirmed and shortly after the song began playing in the room.

“You know how many movies have referenced this scene? Guy and girl, recreating the Dirty Dancing lift? Well, now when I think about it, it might just be one movie, but there’s a bunch of videos of people doing this.”

“Congrats. You’re now one of those people.” He said sarcastically, holding his arms out. Y/N took a long breath and backed away to give her distance to pick up her speed.

“Oh I so can’t believe this is happing right now.” She admitted, taking a deep breath in again.

“You’re surprised that you’re doing it yet you just asked me to do it. How does that go together?” He asked, his voice overpowering the music.

“Cause I didn’t think you’d agree to dance.”

“Do you have any idea what people did in the thirties? All we did was go to wars and dance in between them.” He said when she suddenly bursted out laughing at his comment. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face upon hearing her beautiful laughter. That, if anything, was music to his ears.

“Okay, you ready?” She asked as the music was beginning to near the right moment. Steve raised a brow, meeting her eyes which were filled with joy and excitement.

“Are you?”

She began to jog up towards him and he aimed his hands for her waist. As she ran into his grip he raised her above his head, arms straight up and carrying her steadily. She squealed as she held her arms out, hovering in the air with the powerful chorus in the background.

Steve let her body tilt back until her feet were facing down again, wrapping his arms around her legs and slowly letting her sink down until her face became somewhat at level with his own. Her smile had faded and her eyes seemed through stare through his, her heart beating hard enough for him to be able to notice.

“If you only knew how much this is like this other, new movie…” Her voice was airy as Steve stilled carried her, her arms resting on his shoulders.

“What happens next in the movie?” His eyes darted to her plum lips for a brief second, her scent intoxicating.

“Not what’s going to happen here…”

She sunk down and pressed her lips against Steve’s. They molded together with passion like the moment had been anticipated for months, which it had from both their parts. She wrapped her legs around him but Steve sat her down on the table behind them. She became shorter than him again and he placed one hand on the side of her neck and one at the back of her head, curving his head down as he shaped his lips around hers once more.

She pulled away for a second, but there were too many emotions that needed to be expressed. He dipped down and parted his lips, his tongue meeting hers in a mutual understanding of sweet bliss. He felt her arms cradle around his neck and try to push him closer even though it was physically impossible. As they instead traveled down his chest and grabbed the hem of his shirt, inching it up, he moved his hands from her neck and placed them over her hands.

“I think-” He was out of breath, leaning his forehead against hers with his eyes locked on to their hands. “I think we should take it slow.”

She was equally as out of breath as he was. “You do?”

“No.” He admitted. “But I was raised in an era where you took a gal out for dinner before as much as thinking about giving her a peck on the cheek, and I still go by my old ways, no matter how many Dirty Dancing clips you make me watch.”

She smiled, pressing her lips against his again for a short yet just as passionate moment. “What a gentleman.” She chuckled, bringing her arms back to his neck.

“A fella can always try.”

Assist Me (Part 5)

Summary: With little to no experience and no approval, you are secretly trained to be an Avenger.

Word Count: 1757

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: angst, cliffhanger

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Originally posted by caps-bucky

“You what?”

“I did,” Bucky rolled his eyes back in content. The memory of last night was fresh in his mind, and he wish he could relive the moment a million more times.

“I knew she liked you. It was so obvious,” Sam sneered.

“How?” Bucky was ecstatic to hear what Sam had to say. Although Sam proposed that you had liked him all this time, he still wanted to know what made him think so.

Sam stood up, grabbing a water bottle from the top his dresser. “She tried to act like she was uninterested whenever you were around. When you spoke, she had this small shy smile that she only got with you. I can’t read people that well but to me she was an open book. Definitely wears her heart on her sleeve.”

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A choice

PARING: reader x avengers 


WARNING: possible spoiler for Civil War! 

Request from Anon: Could you write an imagine where the reader gets a vision of the fight in civil war.

So I tried to stay away from BIG spoilers, just incase people haven’t seen Civil War yet (and if you haven’t what are you doing? go see it immediately!) so it’s not too heavy on spoilers hopefully! Enjoy x 


Originally posted by stanseb

Originally posted by justimaginemarvel

A day off. Something of a rarity when it came to the Avenger. You didn’t think you had a proper day off in what seamed like two years. Not since SHIELD collapsed, well you hadn’t really had a day off since you had a vision of the battle of New York. It was around that time you were recruited to be a part of the Avengers. You power of seeing into the future was a valuable part of the team’s structure. You didn’t get full visions, only glimpses, you described it as a montage of what was to come. But your power was unstable and unreliable at the best of times. 

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Chameleon [part 8]

Synopsis: [still in construction] [gave up on it]
Requested: not at all
Pairing: Bucky×Reader
Warnings: none

Preview: Part 6; Part 7/ Masterlist

A/N: Hello my beautiful readers. I am very happy to be posting two chapters in about a week after a month without updating this fan fiction. I am full of ideas and very excited to write this story for you guys. I am loving it. Even if the notes decreased significantly, nothing will make me stop writing this crazy story until the end. I hope you’re all enjoying it as much as I am. 

P.S.: Quick reminder that the italic sections are flashbacks just like in the past chapter. 

“(Y/n)?” was the first thing you heard when entering the lab. Your eyes found Bruce alone, sitting behind his desk writing whatever was what he was writing down. He always seemed to be busy.

Whenever you walked around the compound, exploring the place or following orders, you spotted the avengers in their almost natural habitat. And Bruce was always nowhere to been but in his lab. You appreciated his dedication to his profession and passion even though you had referred to him as a freak, badly judging the man. Gladly, you never repeated it again. 

After all your flashbacks and shared moments with your favourite avenger, Bucky, you finally got the guts to go see the incredible Hulk actually doing incredible science and to humbly ask for assistance.

You still didn’t know exactly why you had to be seen by a scientist or a doctor or anything related to it. You knew you were a mutant and to do all the bizarre things that you did were nothing but normal to you already. You were used to being a thing. But why seeing bruce would help? 

According to Natasha, you needed a suit. But Bruce wasn’t the one out of all the crew that would develop a suit for you. He wasn’t the specialist. But Natasha knew that every mutant had certain flaws when performing their powers, skills. And she knew that you, just like Wanda and the long gone Pietro, as well as the Hulk, needed to improve whatever were your powers. 

“Hello, Banner.” your voice was soft and low but loud enough for him to hear you. He smiled back to you feeling glad you came to see him. 

“Can I help you with anything?” he asked already expecting your surrender.

“I’ll let you do your experiments.” you said. “But I have one condition.”

The hands of the man were still holding you for dear life. If he dropped you, he would fail his mission and forever feel the pain of guilty. But he was careful carrying you out and inside the Jet. And his hands never stopped holding you even after you got to the hospital and were assisted by doctors and nurses along to scientists as well.

You didn’t know where you were or who were those things, but one thing you were really sure of, was that you couldn’t trust anyone. Not even the man with gentle hands. But when you finally got conscious and the world around you stopped spinning, you saw the same three figures you saw before some time ago when you were trapped by Hydra. But those three faces were those to save you. 

“I’ll tell the professor she is awake.” said the beautiful woman before leaving the room. 

Silence took control of the place. The two pair of eyes looked at you, they were worried you could feel it. You looked around and realized it looked pretty much like a hospital room, but before you took any conclusions, the man’s hand met yours one more time and held it assuring you of something that you didn’t know yet. He was maybe just trying to tell you that now everything would be okay.

“Who… you?…” you could barely form a sentence. You were too tired, too hurt to do anything. Blinking was already taking a lot of effort from you.

“Shh, don’t talk. Just rest.” the other creature across the room talked to you. You didn’t like the fact that he didn’t reply your answer; but for your surprise, the other one that held your hand in his and looked at you so caring and worried, overflowing attention, cared to reply you.

“Pietro.” he said. “I’ll explain to you when you get better and free from this room. But now, don’t bother asking questions. We’re gonna take care of you.”

Days passed until you were able to go back to your normal state. But nothing could be back to normal when you were at a place you didn’t know, with strangers, with eyes looking at you, not judging, but curious about your history. 

It was on the fourth day at the hospital room when you finally had the chance and the strength to talk to Pietro. The man who was always around making sure you were making progress recovering from all the damage caused by the occurred a few days ago. 

He was sitting on the chair in front of your bed where you were resting, back against the backrest that was up, helping you focus well on the guy. Pietro had a smile on his face but concerned eyes that you tried to discover why. There were so many questions in your head that you couldn’t choose one to start.

“I remember being carried in your arms. I remember flashs from that night.” your voice came out capturing his attention. “I don’t know what could have happened to me, but wherever I am right now, I’m sure it’s a better place than where I was that night.” 

Pietro got up from his seat and approached to you slowly but not creepy. His hand reached your hair and slid down your face holding it gently. He gave you a smile and you replied by doing the same, feeling the warmth of his hand on your cheek.

You watched as Sam, Bucky, and Steve raced around the accommodation. Next to you, Clint laughed at Sam who had no chance against the other guys. It was the first time you were hanging out with Hawkeye and even if you didn’t really talk, it was already a good start with the avenger.  

“I bet 50 that Steve wins this one.” you said not looking at the man next to you to know that he heard you. 

“Alright.” he replies watching the start of the last lap. “Another 50 if Sam blames Bucky for losing it.”

You laughed loudly imagining the scene. You didn’t know them that well to expect certain reactions such as the one described by Clint. You nodded to him and now you waited for the final result. You felt that Steve would win the race, he was so confident running and never slowing down; no other could beat him. 

But to your surprise, and Clint’s as well, the super soldier that was right behind the captain, suddenly went on his full speed and passed the blond man leaving him behind open-eyed, impressed with his friend. The funny part was seeing Sam coming so far behind almost dying not being able to breath.

“Wow, (Y/n), seems like you owe me $50 now.” Clint held a good posture feeling good for winning. 

You waited for the three guys to approach you and go back inside. They came walking slowly, breathing heavily as their chests evidently went up and down. Bucky smiled to you coming your way and standing next to your body kissing your cheek delicately but regretting doing so in front of the guys. Nobody said anything, you took the chance to hand him the bottle of water you had for yourself but now it was his. 

“She bet on Steve, though.” said Clint to Bucky who looked at you fake offended. You shrugged your shoulders not knowing what to say. You shouldn’t have doubted the capability of the soldier.

“Oh look, I would have done better if Bucky haven’t tripped me right in the beginning, ok?” Sam finally got to you already complaining his loss. It was as if Clint really knew that this would happen, as if he could see the future coming and he saw Sam doing this exact thing right then.

“Come on, Wilson, don’t fool yourself.” said the avenger making fun of the other.

The five of your went back inside and while Clint took his way to the right, the the rest of you went the other way. You were silent listening to the guys talking and you were completely out of the conversation. It wasn’t so bad though, the only thing that left you concerned was that you never exchange words with sam because the guys was hard to conquer the heart. Even Tony, the playboy, started saying hi to you whenever you were around. But Sam… no. Something about you he really hated and you didn’t know what or why. Maybe it had something to do not only with how suddenly you became an avenger but how fast you and Bucky were growing closer and closer. 

The kiss on the cheek that Bucky gave you clearly wouldn’t pass unnoticed by him. You still were under Sam’s test of quality, you felt like that. You wished you understood what was all this about, but you clearly had other things to focus on.

You watched as Bucky distanced himself from his friends and took you with him wherever he was going. His flash hand holding yours, a touch that was getting very usual but still made you feel so good. It felt safe. You were silent waiting for his next action and it wasn’t long until he opened the door to his room and brought you inside. 

“So?” he asked releasing your hand and standing in front of you, face to face. 

“What?” you were confused.

“With Bruce, how was it?” he asked more clear now.

“We talked. Everything is going to be fine.” your answer didn’t satisfy Bucky’s curiosity. 

“What do you mean by that?”

Pietro and You were in the library. You liked his company, but having him while you read a book was a terrible idea. He would always read the entire book and give spoilers to tease you. Sometimes he would even tell you the end of the novel and leave you frustrated for days. But this time, he helped you look for one of your favourite novels of all time, and because you have read it already, there was no way he would disturb your reading. 

The X-mansion held a huge library that not many of the mutants liked to visit. Pietro was one of them, but because you two easily became friends, he like to accompany you there. Was it to annoy you, was it to feel your presence, or sometimes, rare times, to read a book, the same as you, and talk about the progress of the story and the characters. 

“Sometimes I wonder if part of all these books here are just blank pages. You know… To occupy space.” Pietro said drawing your attention to him.

“Maybe… But we’ll never know.”

“We could look for these blank books.” he suggested as if it would be any fun to do so. 

“Or we could read one everyday until we read every book in here and prove to ourselves that they are all real books.” you said.

“You are boring, Pamela.” he sighed looking at you, watching your every move as you looked for your book.

“If you really wanna know if some of these aren’t real novels, then why don’t you ask professor Xavier?” you asked sounding even more boring. 

“You know that he hates me. He would probably find me stupid for such thing.” he replied. “Plus, you know I don’t care about these boring books here, I just thought it would be fun to do it with you…”

“I don’t think he hates you, Pete.” you looked at him now, feeling bad for what the boy had just stated.

“Oh, c’mon, Pamela. We all know nobody here likes me.” he sighed again rolling his eyes before looking down at you. 

I do…” 

Pietro smiled at you. He knew that, he knew you liked him. Maybe you were the only one out of all the other mutants that really liked him. And your fond and caring eyes, touch, words, made him remind himself of his sister. The beautiful Wanda. He didn’t talk much about her to you, but whenever he did, was always something deep and nostalgic. You didn’t know what had happened to the siblings, why they were apart, but you knew how much Pietro loved her and that obviously the X-Men had something to do with their separation.

The X-Men wanted everybody to think that they were amazing “people”, that they were only good and no evil. And yes, to you they were quite okay, but to other people, to Pietro, they weren’t so nice. It is not as if everybody was bad, but many of them, the leaders specially, were like politicians and many things there only happened with accords. 

You knew that Pietro didn’t like this place he was living in, but he knew that it wasn’t forever. You knew that as well. You knew Pietro wouldn’t stay there forever, he was just waiting for the right time. Or the right partner. You knew that whenever Pietro decided to put his secret plans in action, he would take you with him. You were the only creature there that really cared for him, and it wasn’t because he saved your life, but because you genuinely liked the boy. He had a good heart. 

“I just wish I wasn’t any of this. Super fast, super strong… Whatever, you know? Everything would have been much easier in my life if I was just super normal.” his sad tone hurt you. You didn’t like to see your friend like this. You wanted him to always be very cheerful and alive as he usually was around you. 

“Me too. But I was born this way, and maybe there won’t ever be a thing that will make me be normal like everyone else…”

“(Y/n). What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, Buck. I just know that everything will be alright…”

-Pearl Writer

Tags: @mcuimxgine @wantingtobekorra@debzybrazy @winterbuttmunch @beach–babe @gemineez@fanboyswhereare-you @gerardwayisapotato @walkerbex98

Русалка моя

My mermaid.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Request: Hi I love your short stories they are amazing. I was wondering if you could write a Bucky fic please. I know there are various fics that go that have a variation of this prompt: the reader is introverted, a wallflower and likes Bucky but know no ones knows, while he and Nat or someone else have a thing. One day the reader and back share an intimate moment and they start to question things about themselves. You can end it however you want. I hope this isnt confusing. Thanks

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff. 

Words: 2430

A/N: Okay so this is my very first request and I’d like to thank the anonymous who sent it, I truly loved the opportunity of giving my personal perspective on the idea! I am currently trying to learn Russian on my own, i’m not very keen on it so if someone notices any mistake don’t be afraid of telling me. Also, this didn’t come out as I wanted to, but I hope you like it.

Wanna request a fict? ask here.

Originally posted by dailyevanstan

Although your mind was one of the features you and others appreciated the most, you felt like your whole being was secluded inside it. Your manners, your thoughts, your voice… That was one of the cons of the birth earned introspective character, product of your excessive yet very treasured capacity of absorbing every single data on the hardware that was your brain. While normal people found home in a building, in the arms of their loved ones, or in nature, you found your home on your own mind, and you got to love it somehow; yet, that wasn’t enough. You longed the unknown feeling of nestling your existence between the arms of another human, or, in this case, between the arms of a super-soldier.

But who would think, who would even suspect, that the quietest agent that always hid herself in the further corner of the room when there was a gathering, the one who felt her hands sweat whenever she had to display a mission to the Avengers was infatuating over Bucky Barnes?

The answer is, nobody. Not only because your shell helped you keep most of your partners out of your personal zone, but because it was known that nobody was insane enough to mess with somebody like Natasha Romanoff. And of course, you were no fool, so you kept a painful distance between what was hers and your awkward yearn for his touch.

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Bucky Barnes x reader

Alternating POV’s

Notes: swearing, Bucky being an ass, none other yet

Summary: Bucky has just joined the Avengers in the compound and has been confined to it since. When you return from a mission, you’re immediately handed the next one, being: protect James Barnes. He’s not too happy about it, but is soon impressed by your abilities.

Tags: @ff-exotic12 @jjlevin @starstar1012 @stephvera @styleswift1989

Originally posted by caps-bucky

‘He seems a little on edge’

‘No wonder, after what he’s been through. It’s a miracle he didn’t snap’

‘Why does he need protection? From the looks of it he can take care of himself’

‘He can. But we’d like to prevent any public disturbances. The world is still afraid of him’

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In Good Hands (3/5)

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader (Steve Rogers Wife)

Warning: Swearing, and things get violent here.

A/N: OKAY Y’ALL; I know some of you watch S.H.I.E.L.D. and Agent Carter, I do not. So my villains are from the comic books, I do know that this Doctor I’ve choosen has appeared in Agent Carter, but they changed so much about him in that show I stuck with how he was in the Comics. Just a heads up.

When Sam’s left to stay with you, a little light shopping can’t be wrong, till everything blissful goes completely sideways in the absolute worst ways, but your husband left you in good hands right?

@summerbummer2001   @elizabethbiersack165
@rominastark   @crimsonofthefandoms
@bubblylilomelissa   @liloscreativeadventures
@mrskokitztelford @chrisevansthedoritobastard  
@holahellohialoha  @almightyunnie
@imamotherfuckingstar-lord  @iwillbeinmynest  
@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked  @goodnightwife
@irepeldirt  @yourtropegirl
@bellejeunefillesansmerci @buckyb-avengers
@winterboobaer  @mrhowardstark
@rileyloves5  @ria132love
@feelmyroarrrr @skeletoresinthebasement

A bright light, pulsing ache in your head, someone’s hand on your face. That’s when it clicked you were tied up and sitting on the ground.

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twinkle, twinkle little star

“There’s an old story that was told long before we came to this island,” Antiope said. “It said that the shooting stars were the souls of heroes who could not be contained by constellations alone. The gods gave them the power to fly across the sky so that the world could be reminded of them.”

my first wonder woman fic because really i can’t be this obsessed with something without taking a crack at it.

1,990 words

also on AO3

“Mother, is it true that there are heroes in the sky?”

“Let me guess who told you that,” Hippolyta replied with a hint of laughter in her voice.

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Secret Lives (Part 3)

Words: 1.4k

Summary: You and Steve(Castiel) are enjoying your new relationship when an old friend shows up.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, language

A/N: This one actually made me sad to write. There is obviously some canon divergence here (no assumed date with Nora, no sad Steve!Castiel- but we can still assume he was attacked) Tags at the end, let me know if you want to be added.


You and Steve acted like a couple, although you never formally defined your relationship. He went about his routine of shifts at the Gas-n-Sip while you fielded calls and helped with minor researching for active hunters. You were amazed at how you started to think you could live a life like this permanently. You never would have thought about staying in one place before; not until you met Steve.

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a story for which the world is not yet prepared; estranged and desperately unspoken

[This went from a 500-word idea to a 3k-word final product. Oops.

Let’s just pretend that Mary is either dead or the real Moriarty, and she or Moriarty’s minions are coming after John and Sherlock and they have to do some crazy secret spy shit in order to take them down again. John and Sherlock secretly come to Baker Street to reminisce and feel sad and gay and neither of them actually happen to be there at the same time and its fucking miracle that Moriwhoever hasn’t caught on and killed them yet.

My first actual Johnlock fic, please be gentle. On AO3]

No one lives at Baker Street these days, but Sherlock visits anyway. He shouldn’t be here, too suspicious, but he can’t help himself, and the desire to remember those days before everything went to shit is more powerful than his willpower to stop his legs from climbing the stairs.

He sits in his chair, and a red plaid blanket sits gathering dust on the one opposite him. Eloquent, his brain supplies, and he is painfully reminded of the last time John’s chair sat empty. His eyes threaten to water, so he takes a deep breath and closes them, focusing instead on the smells that linger just below the dust. The remnants of Thai takeout, formaldehyde in the fridge, John’s pea dish. He smacks his lips as that thought leads him to think about John making him tea on the weekends.

He hears the end of John’s favorite violin piece, and the smiling praise that greets it. He absently runs a finger along his violin case. More dust, his heart aches. He wishes he’d gotten to play it for John one last time. John’s chuckles ring out over the crap telly, and his heart swells at how charming it is. Familiar footfalls sound on the stairs, and deductions flood him with old memories.

Slower than normal, and lopsided, his brain supplies. It’s been a long day at the clinic, and he’ll be in the mood for a nice murderer to chase around London to take the edge off. Breathless laughter in the stairwell, a few fingers of whiskey, and a maybe Bond movie to end the night.  Sherlock smiles sadly that his brain would fill in the silence with only his fondest memories, he realizes those exact nights when he fell just a little bit deeper.

And then the door to 221B opens.

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Divided: Part 13

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader

Warnings: Violence, Angst, Fighting, Fluff, Cursing. Little medical stuff

Word Count: 2998

Summary: The aftermath of Bucky’s attempted escape lands you and your team in hot water, but the fight is not over yet. 

Authors Note:  Ugggg I took way too much pleasure in writing this part. There is one chunk of dialogue in this that I am just so deeply in love with, I wonder if y’all will be able to pick it out. Well, hope you all enjoy. Tagging is open, just ask 

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

Your brain swims slowly back into consciousness, feeling oddly disconnected from your limbs, you become aware of a dull ache throughout your body. You feel a hum around you as a heart monitor beats rhythmically beside you. The stiff bed that you are lying on seems to rattle beneath you.

Your eyes snap open, taking in your surroundings. An ambulance, you were in an ambulance, no windows, no signs, no idea where you were going. You were completely alone, except for… “You’re awake.” Rhodey breathes a sigh of relief, his hand reaching out for yours, being careful not to touch the IV taped to the back of it or your bruised and bloodied knuckles.

“What… How… Where are we going?” You stammer out your questions as you try to use your hands to push yourself into a sitting position, feeling an odd disconnect in your left shoulder, followed by intense pain.

“Hey, hey, be careful. You dislocated your shoulder with the accident.” Rhodey cautions as he moves forward, pressing you gently back into the pillow, trying to sooth you. “We are on our way Berlin, to the Joint Terrorist and Task Force Division. Y/N, stop, you need to calm down.”

Rhodey moves to stop your movement again as you sit up, looking wildly around for an escape route. “He didn’t do anything wrong. You have the wrong man!” You speak frantically, begging for him to hear you, for him to understand. “Y/N, relax, Steve’s a good man, he just made a stupid call, nothing’s going to…”

“NOT STEVE!” You yell, annoyed at Rhodey for not understanding, “Bucky! He wasn’t in Vienna. He didn’t do it. You are accusing the wrong person.” Rhodey looks taken aback, drawing away from you as he thinks on your words.

“The Winter Soldier?” he says slowly, unsure of the words. “He’s not the Winter Soldier, not anymore. Hydra had control of his mind, but he doesn’t do that anymore, he hasn’t hurt anyone since he escaped Hydra in D.C… Will you stop looking at me like that and just listen to me!?” You snarl in frustration as Rhodey’s eyebrows raise in exasperation.

“Y/N, you’ve been through a lot today, and you’ve got a pretty serious pain med in your system, it’s ok to not be…” “I’M NOT CRAZY! You’re wrong Rhodey, you have got the wrong man, and while you’re wasting your time with him, the real bomber is running free.”

You feel the ambulance make a tight turn, the light in the compartment changing as the vehicle slows down, the driver pausing to speak to a security guard. You finally succeed in sitting up, hand moving quickly to the IV taped to your skin. In one quick motion you pull the needle from your skin, not even wincing at the uncomfortable feeling.

“Y/N, Jesus, what are you…” Rhodey gasps as your right hand moves decisively to your dislocated shoulder, you take a deep breath before moving your hand firmly and swiftly, a loud crack echoing in the compartment as your shoulder pops back into place.

A silent scream fills your mouth as you bite your lips closed, breathing decisively through the pain as you gently rotate your shoulder, checking your range of motion. Rhodey sits beside you, mouth agape as he watches your movements, shocked at your destructive choices.

“Y/N…” he finally breathes, clearly at a loss for words. “What. The. Fuck?” Ignoring him, you flex your thighs, silently checking to feel the tension of the knives strapped to your hips. Thankfully, you found them still firmly locked in their positions.

The ambulance comes to a stop. The brake barely locking into place before you rise to your feet, Rhodey quickly mirroring your actions as he stands to block you. “Y/N, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

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Part of Your World - Part 1

Prompt/Summary: An adaptation of The Little Mermaid. Characters/Character profiles can be found here. I don’t know what else to say other than it’s based around the Little Mermaid.
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings:  blood, mentions of death, fire…. uhm I think that’s it.
Word Count: 1,508
Author’s Note: Considering it’s my birthday now. I wanted to give you guys a treat. That makes sense right? First part and everything’s already going up in flames! I’m so punny. Also there is a lot of descrpition in this but this is mainly to set it all up and get the ball rolling I hope you enjoy! {GIFS ARE NOT MINE} 


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anonymous asked:

Could you do a Bucky Smut where they have angry sex? Pleaseeeee

A/N: ohhh my god, Umm, okay, here you go! *internally screaming* hope this is somewhat okay??? I’ve never done straight smut before?? (Sorry if this seems rushed!) __________________________________
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: NSFW!!! Mentions of Past trauma, mentions of memory loss, hinted PTSD, mentions of nightmares, smut, rough sex, dirty talk, drunk Sex, consensual verbal abuse, fingering (with metal hand), slight oral, angry sex, unprotected sex, sorta spanking?, hair pulling, claiming sex, punishment sex


You’d been dating Bucky for almost a year now, slowly helping him get a hold on his life after everything that’d happened with HYDRA. When you’d first met him, he’d been almost completely unable to function. His memory was a blur of truths and lies, leaving his trust low and his mind on high alert. He’d forget the simplest things, things he should know. His name, where he was, who he was, who Steve was, who you were. He’d go night after night without sleep, body being jolted awake only minutes after he’d fallen asleep, body wracked with sobs from his nightmares. It got better over time, slowly, luckily.

Now, he was more like himself, or at least what you’d imagine his old self to be like. Steve had agreed with you, he was happier, more like the Bucky he knew, like his old Bucky. The real Bucky. He slept through the night now, usually holding you close to his bare chest. He was protective over the few things he could still cling to, Steve, his journal, his belongings, you. His sarcasm was on high at all times now, usually a playful smirk playing his lips, which you’d take over the frown that had seemed to have permanently taken over his features for a long time.

You’re out with him now, walking down the street, hand in hand with him, though it isn’t under the normal circumstances.

It’s chilly out, just enough so that you can see your breath, just enough to make you walk a little closer to the constant furnace that is Bucky. He’s upset, upset with you, but he hasn’t said anything yet so you try not to think about it too much. You’re a little tipsy, seeing as how he’s walking you home from a bar. Not that you’d meant to get quite this drunk anyways.

The longer the silence stretches, his fast pace pulling your wobbly legs along across the icy sidewalk the more you realize how badly you messed up. He’s not just upset, he’s angry, you can tell. He’s silent, eyes directed forward. He could’ve taken you home by car but apparently he had other plans, or maybe, more likely, Steve had the car. Again.

You open your mouth to speak but you’re cut off by Bucky’s angry, direct voice. “So, we fight one time and you decide to go get drunk and flirt around at a fucking bar?” You can see his breath as he talks, face stern. You don’t say anything. “What, and then you just call me to come drag your drunk ass home?” He snaps. “Walk all the way out here for you?”

Your words are only a little slurred when you speak and you’re sober enough to make sure you get your point across. “I thought we were through! That’s what you made it sound like! So, yeah, I’m allowed to go to a bar and take my mind off things!”

“You were practically throwing yourself at the people in there. Do I mean shit to you? Because fuck, you sure got over me fast.” He shot back, letting go of your hand. You vaguely wonder why he was holding it in the first place but you figure there are more important things going on so you let it go.

“You don’t own me!” You shout, stopping in your tracks, unwilling to follow him anymore.

“You’re my girlfriend, or maybe you forgot?” He growled, metal first clenching angrily. “we didn’t break up, not even close, you didn’t have a right to go act like a little
slut, Y/N.” He snarled, stepping closer to you. You can tell he’s jealous, and it’s making your heart beat a little faster, nerves, guilt.

He pushes you against the wall of an empty brick building, firmly but not hard enough to hurt. “You’re mine, got it Y/N?” He breathes into your ear, breath hot against your neck. You shiver, something about his sudden protectiveness that was definitely amplified, his complete control, it was surprisingly hot and the alcohol wasn’t doing much to help you keep your cool in what should be a serious situation.

You don’t give a real answer so he growls something and backs off.

You both make your way home in silence. Once you’re both in the bedroom, the house empty besides the two of you, he removes his shoes and jacket and turns to you, his anger still clearly evident.

“Get on the bed.” He orders.

You could say no, if you actually wanted to. He would have left it at that and you both would have gone about your night normally, but something inside you stirred at the thought of him making you his. Of him jealous and angry and all over you. Of course the alcohol certainly wasn’t helping your judgment but you really didn’t care. He wants this just as much as you do, you can tell and so you don’t make him wait, climbing onto the bed and shrugging off your light jacket.

Despite the cold wether you’re wearing black skinny jeans and a low dip tank top that shows your cleavage nicely, something you know he likes.

Without hesitation he pushes you down onto the bed and pulls your shirt off roughly, following in suit with your pants. Kissing down your neck hungrily, he bites a bit at the tender skin between your neck and shoulder, enough to leave a mark. You let a small whimper escape your lips at the feeling of his hot mouth on your cool skin.

His tongue flicks over the spot briefly before he works his way up to your ear, leaving open mouthed kisses and bites along the way, his voice is low and deep when he speaks against your ear, his cool metal hand running down your back slowly. “I think you need to know who you belong to.” He smirks, cupping your breast firmly in one hand while his metal hand continues to trail down your lower back.

You suppress a moan as you feel yourself start to become wet while he palms and squeezes your breast in his hand through your lace bra.

He stops abruptly after a few minutes of this and he removes his shirt and pants, leaving him in just his tight boxers, his erection pressing against the fabric, the tip of his cock straining at the top of the elastic band, begging for attention. “Suck.” He orders, pulling you closer by your hair. You’re perched on the bed, just in your lace bra and matching panties, you moan softly at the sight and obediently pull down his boxers, taking his thick cock in your hand, stroking him a few times before taking his leaking head into your mouth, gently running your tongue over his tip, swallowing down the precum. You could argue with him, fight this, try and have some control, but you don’t want him anymore angry than he already is so you stay quiet.

“Take it Y/N.” He growls, tangling his left hand in your hair as he pushes his cock roughly into your mouth, giving you no time to adjust before he starts steadily fucking your mouth, his soft moans filling the room. You don’t gag, taking him even when he pushes further into your mouth and throat.

You continue a steady pace, swallowing down his precum as best you can as he fucks roughly into your mouth, your jaw is sore but you’re unable to pull back considering his firm hand on your head. He keeps calling you ‘his’ and telling you how much of a slut you were tonight but it only makes you take him deeper, makes you wetter. Finally he stops, your core throbbing for attention, heat pooling inside you.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, precum and saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth and his cock. He wastes little time in pushing you onto your back, pushing two of his metal fingers into your mouth while he begins grinding down on you. You moan around his fingers, mouth hanging open slightly as you’re lost in arousal as his cock rubs against your sensitive clit. “Y/N. Suck or they’re fucking you dry.” He growls, continuing his steady pace as he grinds down on you.

You moan softly and suck on his fingers obediently, wetting them as best you can, the slight metallic taste filling your mouth. After a minute he pulls them out, dripping. He pushes your underwear down roughly and rubs your clit with a wet finger for a minute before he pushes a finger inside you without warning, causing you to gasp at the cold and sudden intrusion. It feels so good to have him inside you, fucking your cunt finally, but you adjust quickly, hands tangling the sheets.

It doesn’t take long before you’re adjusted completely and you want more, you need more as you push back against his finger greedily while he pushes in the second. He fucks you with just his fingers roughly for a while, pushing them in and out while he teases you, knowing you’re more than ready but unwilling to give you more. “Please, please, Buck” you moan, panting heavily.

He pulls out quickly, smirking as he lines up his cock, pushing into you easily. You gasp at the feeling, a hand tangling in his hair as he begins to fuck you at a fast pace, kissing and bitting at your neck.

You moan softly, panting as he fucks you. “You’re mine. You don’t get to have anyone but me.” He growls. He pinches your nipple between his metal fingers, smirking at the moan that he receives. He continues to fuck you, repeating that you’re his.

He leans down and nips at your ear lightly, words deep and husky in your ear. “I’m the only one that gets to fuck you, you’re only mine and you need to know that, bitch.” You moan loudly at his words and cum, unable to hold back your orgasm as he continues to fuck you roughly. Eventually he’s panting and moaning your name, thrusting deep inside you until he cums, working his hips still as he fills you.

He pulls out carefully after he’s caught his breath, orgasm passing, recovering quickly as usual. Ignoring the clean up he flops down by you and pulls you against his chest. “Mine.” He mumbles tiredly.

You snuggle close to him, chest still rising and falling heavily. Your voice is soft and breathy as you close your eyes. “Yours..”

I Ran (I Couldn’t Get Away)

It’s an early morning in D.C. the first time Steve Rogers spots the young man on his usual route. He doesn’t exactly stick out but the hoodie is strange when the weather is so warm. Its enough that Steve watches as he draws closer and stares back at when the boy turns his head and smiles at Steve. 

The smile is enough to slow Steve to a stop a few feet away. That smile makes a chill go up his spine and he doesn’t know why.

“Captain Rogers.” 

Before he can ask how the boy knows who he is Steve’s attention is drawn to another approaching jogger. They look like a proper jogger in shorts and wearing headphones.

When he looks back to the boy he finds him gone. Steve spins trying to catch any sign of him and can’t. 

Steve thinks he sees the same young man skirting the edge of crowds. Sometimes on corners waiting for a bus or even inside the Triskelion among the slew of agents. Never close enough for Steve to be completely positive but more than reasonably sure.

So he is a little on edge. 

The boy is finally close enough to catch at the Smithsonian of all places. Standing in front of the display for Bucky but not actively talking about it or even reading the information on display. He just stares at Bucky’s face, paying the other patrons no mind. 

Steve is just barely stepping up beside him when he speaks.

“Sometimes to do the right thing we need to do the wrong thing. Because we don’t have a better alternative in a line of bad options.” The boy says with his eyes still fixed on Bucky. “So we make the best what we can do and shoulder it. So what do you do when you know you have to be the bad guy until you can expose the truth?”

“You can find some good friends to help you.” Steve answers because it seems like a cry for help.

The young man smiles and turns toward Steve after that. “I’m Tony Stark.”

“Tony Stark is a highly capable person of interest who has stolen vital SHIELD property. The kind of property we don’t put on on Craig’s list when the new model comes out.” Sitwell says to the assembled agents while gesturing to the photo on the monitors.

Steve knows that face. Knows that man. 

Natasha is besides him and looks bored, paying the debriefing little attention which doesn’t pass by Steve’s notice. She either knows or wants to appear like she knows more than she does. 

“We want him back. Preferably alive.” 

“Preferably?” Steve finds himself asking. Because Tony in the photo looks barely twenty. In person he looks just as young. 

“Stark’s life is considered an acceptable loss to recover what’s in his possession.” 

Stark is in his apartment when he comes home that night, staring out one of the windows in the dark. He’s bundled up in layers again. 

“Decide what you’re going to believe about me?”

“Can’t say I’ve got my mind made up just yet. But you don’t seem like the type of guy to come right to the people after you.” Steve admits when he turns the light on and wanders in further. “Going to tell me what’s going on?”

Tony gives him a nod. “You might appreciate this. Starts where humans meddle with something over their heads.”

“Because that never ends badly..” Steve mutters while going to get himself a glass of water. 

“Do you remember the cosmic cube?”

Steve freezes reaching for a glass, relieved it isn’t in his hand already. He might have dropped it. “Yeah…hard to…forget that.” And every bit of trouble it had brought.

“Howard Stark found it in the ocean while he was looking for you. At that point SHIELD had been founded and he entrusted it to their care. SHIELD couldn’t leave well enough alone, and neither could Howard, so it was a recipe for disaster.”

And Steve can only stare to hear that news. He hadn’t known the cube had ever been recovered. 

“I stole the cube.” 

“Did you really?”

Tony shrugged. “Not in the sense they want you to think. Sort of…attached.”

After closing the cabinet Steve rubbed a hand over his face. The cube hadn’t been worth the fuss in the 40′s he wasn’t expecting to get any better with seventy more years under his belt. 


“It’s keeping me alive.”

Pierce is standing perfectly still and regarding Tony Stark with a thin, impatient kind of smile. The kind you give someone who is testing your last nerve but remember you cannot lose you temper upon.

The strike team floods into the room, Natasha and Steve among the ranks. 

“Take Stark into custody.” Pierce orders immediately.

Steve is caught by the way Tony is staring at the floor rather than any of the room’s new occupants. The way he breathes too quickly and staggers back a few steps until his back is pressed against the windows. Steve sees how Tony is struggling against the weight of recent news. 

But he also sees the instant Tony understands they are there for him. One of his hands curls into a fist and the glass behind him splints with large cracks. His eyes practically glow where he stands. The cracks in the windows grow and the room feels like it has begun to vibrate. 

“These are the times that try men’s souls.” Tony Stark says over the loud cracking of the glass behind him. “The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; “ and Tony pauses here gaze solidly landing on Alexander Pierce who looks back unflinching, “but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman.”

Thomas Paine’s The Crisis, Steve knows Tony is quoting. One of his most well known quotes is the first sentence. Steve doesn’t know why Tony’s chosen to quote founding fathers when he should be fleeing SHIELD agents. Or perhaps surrendering.

“It is the Winter Soldier that carries through the tide of trials.” Tony goes on. 

That is not a part of The Crisis. Stranger yet from the break in the script is the ripple of unease the words “Winter Soldier” bring. Even Natasha looks caught off guard. Rumlow freezes completely in place. Pierce looks to be moving from annoyed to angry.

Rumlow raises his automatic planning to fire but Tony’s eyes glow a bright blue that is inhuman. The barrel of the automatic crumples like paper and the magazine drops to the floor beside Tony a few of the bullets pinging loose across the floor.

“On him rests the world, and for him we should cry. Take up your arms my countrymen and draw up the line to irrevocably separate the summer sons from the winter men.”

The crash of the glass is loud but even more startling than that is the way Tony flings himself out in the open air. Gunfire close behind him.

Steve can only stand there stunned wondering what the speech meant. Why choose a piece of American history only to divert to monologue. Somehow Steve finds his eyes drift over to fall on Pierce who is looking more than a little ruffled at Stark’s escape. Because Stark had vanished after his daring leap.

The Winter Soldier seems as good a place as any to start.

The Evolution of Bucky Barnes

Summary: It was weird, because he’d just be having a normal day, eating lunch with you and Steve like always and he’d glance over at you for no reason in particular, just another look like the billion looks he’d given you before, and he’d feel… Warm? Like someone had turned the thermostat up in his organs and his heart was starting to melt. This hadn’t happened in high school, why was it happening now? 

Warnings: Look, I wrote this between 2 and 7 AM this morning, so if it’s awful I’m blaming my sleep-addled brain. Other than that there’s nothing!

Word count: 2855

A/N: Sorry for the break guys! I wasn’t really planning it but it looks like I’m getting back on track by crushing two requests mixed with one of my own long-awaited ideas! Hope ya’ll enjoy it ^^

Tagging: @pleasecallmecaptain @waitingfortherightpartner @buchananbarnestrash @wydari @price-devant-la-cage @procrastinatingvirgo @sebstanshitposts @aubzylynn @generation-hated @march-mallow @dontaskmetosay-idontloveyou

Originally posted by uncensoredsideblog

As far as you were concerned, Bucky was an occupational hazard. Something you just had to deal with on a day to day basis. Not that you had anything against him per se, it was just the way he acted sometimes - like if he didn’t flirt or stare at every girl who walked past he’d collapse - or something along those lines. It was worth it, you supposed, because he made Steve happy, and happy Steve didn’t get tossed around in an alley as much. Healthy, unharmed Steve happened to make you a content camper, so you swallowed down his choice in friends most of the time. 

It didn’t help that you couldn’t go one sentence without catching the brunette gazing dreamily at a waitress/classmate/librarian/nurse/even the odd stunning lady passing him by on the street. The boy was insufferable, and you legitimately could not piece together how Steve was so close to the animal that was traipsing down the street with you.

This was the worst part of your friendship with Steve, because both you and Bucky insisted on walking with him to his front door every day after school (the bigger, meaner kids in your high school were hounds that somehow always sniffed out when Steve was alone so they could bloody him up in peace) but were stuck in each others company afterwards. It didn’t help that Bucky and you lived in the same direction, so even if you wanted to walk home alone and in blissful ignorance of Bucky’s lingering eyefuls of your pretty neighbours, you weren’t allowed the luxury.

“Could you stop that?” You seethed, catching him turning tail yet again to drool over a pretty blonde that strut past him.

“I’m not doin’ a thing.” He fired back, much more playful than your own tone. Why were boys so much trouble?

“We’re not pieces of meat strung up in a butcher shop for you to evaluate!”

“Can’t say I was plannin’ on ‘evaluating’ you, sunshine.” Which made you oddly offended, but not in the same way watching him chase the swaying hips of those poor unsuspecting girls offended you.

“Can’t say I’m not pleased to hear it. At least someone in this town won’t fall victim to your dumb teenage pining.” Despite the ice in your voice it did kinda sting, as far as you knew there was nothing wrong with you, nothing that would make you incompatible for Bucky’s seemingly endless lustful attention, but maybe you were wrong?

What did you want him to drool over you for anyways? You should be thanking your lucky stars that boy kept his hands and his eyes as far away from you as possible. Let Steve have all the caring looks and worried sideways glances, I don’t need them.

So you graduated high school, Bucky’s insurmountable hormones dropped enough for him to be tolerable, and Steve was still the same scrawny schoolyard hero he had always been. There were even some moments, far too few for them to logically outweigh all the times Bucky was an awful human being, where you could see why Steve was such good friends with him.

Like when Steve’s mom died, and you had both trailed behind Steve on your way back from the service. You were angry for about an hour at how unaffected Bucky seemed to be, for a guy who spent most of his childhood with Steve. Then you remembered that Bucky usually came over to see Steve when Sarah was at work, whereas you were practically raised by her alongside Steve.

That, and Bucky was never one to be the pessimist. He was the one who shouldered pain the way a horse pulled a carriage; with his own grief and everyone else’s all piled in the back, sheltered and seemingly unburdened as he trotted away with all the misery you thought you’d hold forever.

It was a rare moment of admiration you held for the guy.

When you went into college things started to change; though not nearly as much for you as for Bucky.

It was weird, because he’d just be having a normal day, eating lunch with you and Steve like always and he’d glance over at you for no reason in particular, just another look like the billion looks he’d given you before, and he’d feel… Warm? Like someone had turned the thermostat up in his organs and his heart was starting to melt.

You’d be walking back from Steve’s place after another inconvenient yet unpreventable alley-beating and he’d glance over and wonder when you got so pretty? Had you always been like this, and he was just too dumb to notice? Likely, and not at all improbable.

Then there was the war, and somehow that hadn’t managed to separate any of you. Steve and Bucky were soldiers - super soldiers if you were to believe the papers, and all your hard work in college paid off when you got to meet the Howard Stark, who personally asked you to work with him. Bucky remembered the grin you sported after the first meeting, watched you bouncing on your toes in pure inexploitable excitement. He was a mix of pleased and irked, because you were so adorable but this was Howard’s doing and not his.

When he started feeling like it was solely his job to make you happy was beyond him.

With the war came Peggy Carter, and lord, if she didn’t completely steal his best friend’s heart.

“Have you ever felt that before Buck? When you just look at them and it’s like getting the wind knocked outta you?” It was all Steve could do to gush about her, she was an incredible woman, Bucky was sure. Still, looking back on all the girls Bucky had gone out with, he’d never been smacked with adoration before; much less Love.

In fact, Bucky didn’t think he’d ever really been in love before. But funny how these things work, because while it was taunting the deep recesses of his mind that day, he was smacked.

By you.

And he knew on the outside it was probably because while he was considering Steve’s words his line of sight just happened to be on the backside of the bartender in front of him, but everything inside him just clicked.

It had been you for years, hadn’t it? He was just too dumb to realize that swelling in his chest whenever you laughed or smiled in his direction wasn’t a normal reaction to making someone who hated you seem like they liked you. All of the careless touches that sent odd tingles through his fingers or arms or back only came from you, every sideways glance, every second thought, every night where he got home and ended up thinking about you and how you were doing and what you were doing. Whenever his heart melted or he thought you were cute or you tucked your hair behind your ear just for it to fall back into your face a moment later, and every time he thought about helping you out by tucking it back for you. All of it was leading to this goddamn slap that managed to knock some sense into him.

“Would you please use your brainpower for something other than that poor woman’s ass?” You had gotten bolder over the years, which no one really thought was possible, but all supposed it was having to deal with Howard all day. Stark boys had always been trouble, especially in the eyes of feminists, and you might as well have written the guide book to feminism.

“Go out with me.” Bucky must’ve looked dazed, even though he was thinking more clearly than he ever had in his life. This, he thought, is something that should’ve happened a long time ago.

“Sorry?” You asked almost aggressively, like you were daring him to repeat himself. He wasn’t bothered by it in the least.

“Go out with me, on a date. Date me.” It wasn’t even a question at this point. It wasn’t a suggestion either, it was a statement. Like there was no other possible way to go from here, and for him there wasn’t. You were it, you were the Peggy to his Steve.

“How many drinks have you had?” It was shock that spoke up most in your tone, not rejection or hatred. You’d gotten over that a long time ago, you were used to dealing with Bucky the Playboy, you just weren’t used to him playing for you.

“What does that matter? Let me take you out.”

“Why, have you already slept with everyone else in this bar?” That made his heart twist, though he wasn’t too sure why. Is that what you thought of him? Is that what you thought of yourself?

“I don’t want to sleep with anyone else in this bar, and I’m asking you out on a date not a one night stand.” He thought that was a pretty decent thing to say to clear it up, but apparently it wasn’t.

“I’m not just another girl to check off of your To-Do List, Bucky.” Your chair painfully scraped the floor when you stood up, glaring down at him for a moment before turning around and leaving. Bucky was at a loss for words, really. How did he always manage to piss you off, even when his intentions were in the right place?

It was a long road to getting you to speak to him again, which is why he more-or-less kept his feelings for you in check afterwards. The last thing he wanted was to scare you off again, because you couldn’t find it in you to believe he was sincere in asking you out. It was a tough path, but it was really the only one Bucky thought worth taking. After all, any other route would lead further away from you, and that’s not something he wanted.

Meanwhile you could hardly recognize him once you did forgive him. He only ever looked at other women if they spoke to him, or if someone else had pointed them out and he sent a haphazard, hardly-interested glance their way just to nod lightly. His flirty had virtually stopped, unless he spared a line or two for you every now and again. It was like he didn’t even see girls anymore, and as much as it was enchanting, it was also worrying.

“Did you hit your head or something?” It was really not the time or place to be talking about how he was totally and entirely in love with you, what with Howard, Steve, and Peggy all crowded around the same table of finely crafted shields as you two were.

It must’ve sparked from the way he blatantly overlooked the pretty blonde uniform that was caught making out with Steve not twelve minutes ago. She was very obviously sending googly bedroom eyes at Bucky now, something he would’ve picked up on and returned in a second had he been his normal self.

“What?” He was half praying you’d drop it and half hoping you wouldn’t. What bothered him about the situation wasn’t the audience so much as it was the timing. He’d just gotten out of your doghouse, if he had to reaffirm his feelings for you and you pushed him away again he didn’t know what he’d do to fix it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you ignore a girl for this long, so either you hit your head or you’re dying of something else. What is it?” You decided to pull one of Bucky’s favourite poses, the crossed arms, chin up, most of your weight on your right foot look. You looked amazing, and Bucky was glad he was using his forearms to support himself on the table because he was being threatened by another gust of that adoration Steve had been talking about.

How could he possibly look at that other broad when you were right there, looking fine as hell with one eyebrow raised and a pout like no one’s business? No, thank you, you were the only one he wanted to pay attention to.

And honesty was the best policy, right?

“Why should I look at her when there’s already a gorgeous dame beside me?” The second it left his mouth he knew he’d regret it, because you were staring down at him hard and your jaw was set like you were about to whip out a Tommy gun and let loose on him.

To be fair, Peggy was looking down at a shield the very same way, though they all knew it was meant for Steve and that flirty receptionist he was caught with.

“C'mon doll, I’ve already played all my cards, all I’m askin’ for is one date.” He looked up at you hopefully, though he was almost sure you’d refuse him again. It was driving him crazy - there was no way you didn’t feel the little zaps of electricity when you two touched, or the nervous fluttering of your stomach when he was around. God wasn’t so cruel as to make this a one-sided thing, was he?

“I don’t know where you got that idea from but no. I’m sure there’s at least one other girl in America you haven’t tried to be with yet, why don’t you go ask her out.” And then you left, fuming just like the first time he’d asked.

He really didn’t care that they were all looking at him as he banged his head against the table uselessly and groaned.

It was the start of a cycle. Rinse and repeat. Damage control, ask you out, watch you push away from him. Do it again. He honestly didn’t know how you kept saying no, since your main problem seemed to be you didn’t think he was dedicated in having you specifically. You suspected he just wanted a decent hunt first, seeing as how all the other girls up until now simply threw themselves on him the second his pretty blue eyes landed on them.

“I swear to god if you’re opening your mouth the ask me out again,” You warned, not even facing the same way as him but still knowing he was on the verge of doing it.

“If you’d just say yes we wouldn’t be having this problem.” Instead he’d be able to hug your waist from behind while you were working on whatever project you and Howard were working on now-a-days.

“If you’d just look around you’d find someone else to help you fix your dwindling love life. Just because I’m the closest girl to you doesn’t make it okay to use me.” You mumbled into your experiment. Bucky’s patience was wearing thin at this point, you’d gone through this over and over again, and then once more for good measure.

“Why can’t you see that I’m asking you out because I want you?” He wasn’t sure how he was using you by being in love with you, but he knew if he brought it up he’d be opening a can of worms that’d refuse to shut.

“But why would you want me with all of those other girls out there?” You were still speaking just as fiery, but Bucky could tell this was a soft spot for you. He didn’t understand what you had to be insecure over, you were absolutely perfect.

“Because I don’t see any other girls. It’s been that way since high school. I only flirted with them to get a rise out of you before I realized what this was! Now I can’t even open my mouth without wishin’ I was speakin’ to you instead.” He had stepped closer, taking your hand when you stood up straight and leading you away from your project. He needed you to pay attention to what he was saying, because he was sure if he was sincere enough for you to pick up on it,  there was no way you’d reject him again.

He didn’t think he had it in him to get shot down another time.

“I don’t know why it took me so long to figure out I love you doll, but it’s the truth. I don’t want any other girl, not for a one night stand and not for the rest of my life because it’s always been you, I’ve just ignored it until recently. Don’t turn me down again Y/N, I’m beggin’ here. I just want a shot.”

He was giving you the puppy dog eyes. He was giving you puppy eyes while holding both your hands to his chest and you could feel his heart racing against your palm. You couldn’t say no, even if you were sure you wanted to - which you weren’t.

“Fine.” His heart nearly stopped all together.

“Really?” Still with the eyes and the glimmer of hope behind them.

“Really.” You fought off the beginnings of a smile as Bucky grinned wide and proud. He let out a laugh before dropping your hands and pulling you in for a hug.

There was no way he’d let you regret this.