Summary: (Bucky POV) Nat tricks you into leading a road trip with Bucky, Sam and Steve. Her plot is partly to get the boys to travel for fun for once but mostly to get you and Bucky together. You and Bucky, who seemingly despise each other.
Warnings: swearing, super mild smoot (it’s not really even smut)
Word Count: 4501
Author’s Note: This part is way too damn long. I really just like the ending. But I also couldn’t figure out what I wanted to cut so you’re getting all of it.
As we climb back to the car, Y/N has slipped off of Sam’s shoulders and shoved past him, nearly running up the trail, farther away from Sam. And from me. When we make it to the top of the trail and the edge of the parking lot, Steve looks to me with a shocked and unsure shrug, lifting his hands up in question. She barely speaks to anyone, only muttering a disgruntled, “Trunk, please” to Steve.
Once we’ve changed into dry clothes, Y/N tosses her now useless phone haphazardly into the trunk and grabs for her dated Atlas before slipping into the car without a word. She doesn’t move closer to me, she doesn’t look up from her Atlas. Goddamn it. She’s so upset. “Go left,” she instructs with a heavy sigh as she flips through the pages until she finds the map for South Dakota. She traces over an already marked road until it reaches the end of the page, before moving quickly over to Wyoming.
As soon as her feet were back on solid ground, Ayrialenne looked around her to try and figure out where she was; the orb was meant to take her to a destination of her choosing, but there was always a certain margin of error, plus she’d been in a bit of a rush and so had perhaps not concentrated as well as she should have. She was off by a few miles from where she’d intended but her surroundings were definitely familiar; the small forest that surrounded the mountain range her mother had settled in, though much bigger than she remembered, was still a much welcome sight.
Running, she decided, was not as efficient as flying, but it got the job done. She could have done without the branches snagging on her dress slowing her down even more, though. Finally, she made it through the woods, only to find a new obstacle in the unforgiving rock that made up the mountain face. Climbing, she found, was worse than running; the rocks were rough and sharp and her skin was, well, skin.