Summery: You’re put in charge of planning Bucky’s birthday party.
It had been quiet sometime since the Avengers had partied.
Everyone was almost always busy these days; missions, reports, training. The little free time they did get they preferred to use as their own personal downtime.
But this week at Stark tower was special; as in birthday special.
Steve had honestly thought that his best friend would be completely against the idea of having a birthday party. Boy had he been wrong.
“A party? Really?” Bucky asked, eyes wide with excitement as he stared at Stark from his spot on the common room couch.
It was a rare uneventful day in the tower, the world was quiet and (for the moment) peaceful. You’d taken this as an opportunity to finish the book you were reading, lounging casually in the window seat. Steve and Bucky had been filling out mission reports a few feet away when Tony had walked in with his proposal.
“Yeah!” Tony said, “It’s a little short notice and I’ll have to call in some favors, but you only turn ninety-nine once! We gotta pull out all the stops!”
Steve sighed, “How? We’re swamped with paperwork, Clint’s still recovering from his last mission, Buck’s birthday is only two days away, and we have a big mission to prepare for in two weeks! Even you’re too busy to plan this party. I don’t wanna seem like a buzzkill but right now isn’t exactly the time for a big, extravagant party.”
You were silently observing the exchange, sadness filling your chest when you saw Bucky’s hopeful expression die instantly. You were sweet on the soldier; normally you were quiet and kept to yourself, but ever since you’d met Bucky he’d been causing some serious butterflies in your stomach.
“Nonsense!” Tony exclaimed, ready to defend his idea.
“No, Tony. Steve’s right.” Bucky said, trying to hide his disappointment, “Everything’s too up in the air right now.”
“I’m sorry, Buck. You know I wouldn’t say no unless I had to. But hey! Maybe we can still have a small get together; I’m sure I can get Sam to make a cake.” Steve said, clapping his friend on the shoulder.
“Yeah. That’d be great!” Bucky said; to anyone else he’d appear ecstatic, but you noticed the drop in his tone instantly.
It broke you to see him let down; Bucky rarely got excited about things, which was unfortunate because you loved the child-like attitude he tended to take when he was. This was why you couldn’t really be blamed for what came out of your mouth next.
“I’ll do it.” You blurted.
All three of their heads turned in your direction, surprise flashing in their eyes as if they’d forgotten you were there.
“Do what?” Tony asked.
“Plan the party.” You said, closing your book.
“What about your work?” Steve asked, raising a brow.
“I finished my reports this morning, upgraded the teams gear as well as the tower’s systems yesterday, and Nat let me off of self-defense training for the next few days while she helps get Clint rehabilitated.” You replied; you were an Avenger but in a different sense. You didn’t have badass fighting skills, super-soldier serum, a mutation, or enhancement; you were the team’s Jack Of All Trades. If something needed doing, you were the one to call; you helped Tony with the tower’s cyber up-keep, were trained in basic fighting techniques in case you were needed as emergency back-up, knew how to fix just about anything with nothing but duct tape and a safety pin, and you could drive or pilot anything.
“You’d really do that for me?” Bucky asked, a lightness returning to his voice at the prospect of getting to have a party.
“Of course; everyone deserves to celebrate their birthday how they want to.” You said shyly, still having a hard time speaking to Bucky what with the things you felt for him.
“But how are you going to do it? Have you ever planned a party like this before? We’re gonna be cutting it pretty close just being able to get the whole team away from work long enough to celebrate.” Steve said.
“Well, no; I’ve never planned a party like this before. But Tony can give me access to anything and everything I might need, I can even get everyone’s clothes for the party so that all everyone has to do is get dressed, show up, and have fun.” You said, holding your breath.
Tony, Bucky, and yourself gave the blond your best puppy-dog eyes.
“Ugh! Fine!” Steve groaned, “Just stop looking at me like that!”
“Great! Then it’s settled!” Tony clapped, then pulled out his wallet and gave it to you, “Take whatever you need; don’t hold anything back! If someone tells you ‘no’, call me.”
“Okay. Got it.” You nodded.
Bucky gave you a brilliant smile, “Thanks,Y/N! I know you’re gonna make it great!”
As the men went back to their work you suddenly began to wonder what you’d gotten yourself into.
Party planning was hard. You had a new respect for Tony.
You’d started with the guest list; inviting everyone from SHIELD to the guys at the VA that Bucky went and played poker with on Saturdays, Tony had given you a guest list of his own but you quickly realized that Bucky knew almost no one on the list.
Next was scheduling the venue, decorating, and ordering the food. The venue you had chosen was a beautiful dance hall that dated back to the 1930s, the floors were a rich cherry wood and there were large windows on every wall to let in the natural light shine in. For decorations you decided on a color scheme of deep blue, chocolate brown, and silver; the room was decorated tastefully with silk ribbons draping elegantly on the ceiling (starting in the center and reaching every edge of the room), the napkins were brown, the dishes were blue, the table cloths were silver, a large bar sat to one side of the room, and there was of course a big space for dancing as well as a stage for the band. You knew Bucky’s favorite food was pizza, so despite the somewhat elegant setting you’d made you ordered several dozen pizzas from his favorite pizza place, you hired a pastry chef to make a triple-chocolate-fudge-three-layer-cake, and even got an expert Mixologist to make a drink especially for him (which you’d dubbed “Hot Winter”; it had everything to do with the fact that the Mixologist actually added fire to the drink and nothing at all to do with how good looking you thought he was).
Finally you got everyone something to wear to the event; the guys were in dress shirts, slacks, and bow-ties, while the women were clad in dresses fit to their individual personalities and body types.
There was a loud knock on your door and you rushed to open it.
“Hey Steve!” You smiled, slipping on one of your heels, “Come on in, I’m almost ready.”
You wore a cute white lace frock with a plunging neckline and a hem that stopped just above the knee and your accessories were silver.
“You look good, Y/N. Buck’s gonna flip.” Steve smiled, leaning against the door frame.
“No. Y-you know he doesn’t think of me like that.” You stuttered. Steve was the only one that knew about your crush on his friend (Steve Rogers was way more observant than anyone gave him credit for in your opinion), but no matter how many times he told you he’d caught Bucky staring at you or the amount of questions Bucky would ask Steve about you on a daily basis, you brushed him off; how could you believe him? Women practically threw themselves at Bucky and you were pretty sure he could have anyone he wanted.
Steve rolled his eyes, “Whatever. I’d stay here and argue with you but the rest of the team is already heading to the dance hall and we need to catch up if we’re gonna make it before Bucky gets there; Stark and Banner are currently spinning him around on the roof with a blindfold on to try and confuse him.”
You laughed, “I can only imagine how well that’s going. Let’s roll.”
When you arrived at the party it was already swinging; people dancing, laughing, and talking over drinks, everything going exactly as you’d seen it in your head.
“Just got a text from Banner; they’ll be here in two minutes.” Thor announced.
The doors to the dance hall swung open just as the two minute mark passed, Tony and Bruce leading a blindfolded Bucky into the room.
“You can take the blindfold off now!” Steve called out to Bucky, standing slightly behind you.
It took Bucky no more than a second to rip off the offending piece of cloth.
“Happy Birthday Barnes!” Everyone in the room chorused.
Bucky’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened as he took in the details; the dance hall, the music, the moonlight coming in through the windows, the colors, the smiling faces of all of his friends, and everything in between. It was so perfect. It was so him.
Bucky quickly recovered from his shock with a smile, and as he moved into the crowd everyone slowly resumed socializing, drinking, dancing, and stopping him to offer their congratulations. Bucky finally managed to make it through the crowd and to where most of the Avengers sat at the bar.
“Happy birthday!” Thor boomed, clapping him on the shoulder, “And may you have many more!”
Bucky smiled, “Thanks, Thor.”
Bucky greeted the rest of his teammates and accepted their birthday wishes with a smile when he noticed something, “Hey, where’s Y/N?”
“I think she’s helping one of the band members; a speaker blew just a few minutes ago.” Pietro replied.
“Oh.” Bucky said, brows furrowing in thought, “I’ll be back in a second, guys.”
Before anyone could question him, he had disappeared into the crowd.
Bucky found you at the edge of the stage, screwdriver in hand as you screwed the panel back into place on the now repaired speaker. Bucky slid his hands into his pocket nervously then cleared his throat to get your attention.
As soon as you turned to face him, Bucky lost his ability to function. Bucky always thought you were beautiful, but tonight you were positively stunning. Your white lace dress fit to your form perfectly, your silver pumps elongated your beautiful legs, and the plunging neckline that showed off your bare skin stirred something in him.
Bucky surely thought his heart had stopped when you gave him the most angelic smile he’d ever seen.
“Bucky! Happy Birthday!” You said, but then began looking around concernedly, “What do you think? It’s not too much is it?”
“No, it’s perfect.” Bucky said, looking from the party, to you, then back again.
You smiled shyly, “I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it.” Bucky smiled as he looked down at you with affection, “Hey, do you wanna danc-”
Before Bucky could get the last word of his question out, you felt a hand lace through yours.
“C'mon Y/N! Dance with me!” Steve said, dragging you away from Bucky and onto the floor.
You were going to refuse but when you looked back, Bucky was gone.
“Steve! What was that? He was about to ask me to dance!” You said, swatting Steve’s shoulder as he maneuvered your body to the fast paced song.
“I know.” Steve said.
“Then why’d you do that?” You asked, confused.
“Because I know him; even if you danced the night away with him, he’d still take forever to get the courage to ask you out on a date. The only way to get him to confess his feelings is by force.” Steve said, spinning you.
“We’ve talked about this. There are no feelings!” You said.
“Humor me.” Steve said.
“Three dances. Then you leave me alone to drown in some Asgardian mead.” You groaned.
Bucky dragged himself back to the bar and sat down heavily, his famous Winter Soldier glare taking up residence on his face.
“Woah! I know they say it’s your party and you can cry if you want to, but what’s with the glare? What happened?” Tony asked, already slightly tipsy.
“Nothing.” Bucky said, watching his best friend move you across the dance floor with ease.
“Bullshit.” Sam said, following Bucky’s line of sight, “I think the Birthday Boy’s pretty green with envy.”
Scott spotted you and Steve, “Really? I didn’t know you had a thing for Y/N!”
“I don’t.” Bucky snarled.
Sam smirked, putting his part of Steve’s plan into action, “Guess that’s a good thing then.”
“What? What do you mean?” Bucky asked, unable to help his curiosity.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just, her and Cap look like they’re getting real cozy.” Sam said, making Bucky look over to see you and Steve dancing a few inches closer than before.
Scott felt Sam nudge him in the ribs, silently cluing him in on his idea.
“They sure do. Bet they’d make a cute couple.” Scott said, then smiled devilishly to himself, “Their kids are gonna be adorable.”
As if it had been planned, the band started playing a slow romantic song. Bucky’s chest flared with anger as he watched Steve pull you flush against him.
“Over my dead body.” Bucky said, he stood from his stool, straightened his suit, and strutted over to you and Steve.
Sam and Scott shared a smile; mission accomplished.
The third song had just begun; after this Steve would let you go drown your feelings in alcohol.
“Can I cut in?” A deep voice asked from behind you.
You shivered and let your eye’s meet Steve’s, his blue ones glinting with mischief.
“I dunno, Buck. Y/N’s a pretty good partner; might even been the right partner.” Steve said.
“C'mon, Punk. It’s my birthday. Let me have a dance with my best girl.” Bucky said.
“Oh, alright! Fine!” Steve said, acting exasperated.
“Thank you.” Bucky said, and even though you weren’t looking at him you could hear the smile in his voice.
Before Steve let you go, he laid a light kiss on the back of your hand and gave you a flirty wink, “Can’t wait til next time, doll.”
You heard a growl come from Bucky as Steve walked off, the sound making you rub your thighs together.
Bucky spun you into his arms and held you to his chest tightly, “Is this okay?”
“Perfectly so.” You said, wishing to bury yourself deeper into his strong form.
“Glad to hear it.” Bucky said, then sighed, “I - I really like you, Y/N. Maybe even more than like. I understand if you’d rather be with Ste-”
You put a finger to Bucky’s lips, silencing him, “I don’t. I don’t want to be with Steve. Because I really like you too. Maybe even more than like.”
You two swayed back and forth to the music, enjoying the feeling of one another.
“I think this is the most time we’ve spent together before.” Bucky said after a few songs.
“I think you’re right.” You said, looking up into his eyes and seeing them blown wide.
“I want to spend more time with you.” Bucky said huskily, then ducked his head and planted a soft kiss to your neck, “Alone.”
“Well it is your birthday.” You gasped, reflexively your fingers wove into his hair, “And it’s my job to make sure you have a good time at your party.”
Bucky rocked his hips against you, forcing you to bite back a moan when you felt his member poking into your thigh.
“Damn right it is.” Bucky growled, and before you could protest he’d grabbed your hand and dragged you down a hall and into the nearest closet.
Bucky held you with your back against the door and finally pushing his lips onto yours, kissed you properly for the first time. It was hot, needy, and filled with passion. Bucky licked his way into your mouth and occupied himself by teasing your tongue, circling and thrusting his own to drive you mad. Bucky began trailing kisses down your neck and the exposed parts of your chest.
But he had to stop due to your dress being in the way of his kissing, he gave the dress his Winter Soldier glare then grasped it in his hand. Bucky yanked his hand down and ripped the dress, splitting it down the middle.
“Bucky!” You gasped, partially turned on partially upset about your torn dress.
“Oh babydoll, why you been hidin’ all this from me?” Bucky asked, moaning at the sight of your bare chest, erect nipples, and pink panties that had heavy evidence of your arousal on them, “I’m gonna take you home tonight and ravage your body until I think I’ve got my birthday’s worth. But I need you now, baby. Right now. Say the word and I’ll back off, but you look positively delicious and I want you so much it hurts.”
“Bucky?” You said, laying a gentle hand on the gasping man’s cheek, “I trust you.”
Bucky gave a final nod and sunk to his knees in front of you, bringing him eye level with your rapidly soaking panties.
Bucky nuzzled your inner thigh gently, letting his stubble scratch your soft skin, “M'gonna make you scream my name.”
The second fic for my Bucky Barnes Birthday Celebration! Let me know what your thoughts and opinions HERE! I always love hearing from you guys!
we are in a giant hall. marble walls, chandeliers, tall vaulted ceiling. The fancy crowd is either sitting at small tables or standing and chatting, holding drinks. The women in luxury dresses. the men in elegant suits. There's a stage standing after the crowd and on it there's a band playing classical music.
we cut from the crowd and are viewing from behind a fancy buffet, at the backs of two men standing in front of it. One is tall with black curls and an impressive posture, the other is shorter with light brown hair.
we cut to their fronts and encounter Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, both in tuxes and bow ties.
look as all these women!
careful John, you're a married man.
oh shut up. How the hell are we going to find this woman? she could be anyone!
well she's certainly not that bearded man i the blue suit. unless she's really good...
*anxiously fixes his tie* why did Mycroft have to send us here as waiters? couldn't he give us fake IDs or... a special card or something
I asked him to.
It's essential for my plan.
and in what point are you going to let me in that plan?
now seems like an appropriate time. (raises his look, observing the crowd in concentration) The woman we're looking for...
we were informed of the existence of a woman. we suspect she's working for the Swiss, but we can't know for sure and we're not interested in any cooperation. we suspect she's holding information our best agents weren't able to find.
you really have to start filtering your agents better, they're terrible.
she has no idea the information she's holding is valuable. No one knows but us. and we'd like to keep it that way.
so you want me to talk to her.
how? you don't even know who she is.
we know she's be attending a gala next week. find her. find out what she knows. without reveling any connection to the British government. this is crucial.
*BACK TO PRESENT*
There are people here who are far to known to be a Swiss secret agents, so that goes. This woman can't be married or have children or pets, and she's probably not over 50, so that eliminates some more...
*the crowd from Sherlock's point of view. people disappear as he excludes them*
No, you can't possibly narrow it all down.
Not all of it, probably, but most. You may have noticed that I've been studding dress catalogs lately?
oh yeah, I though you were developing a new interest.
an undercover agent could never afford to buy an expensive dress, While most women in these sort of events are dying to show off their wealth. I've memorized catalogs of all top designers in fashion. that woman over there?
*cut to woman in a white dress with flowers pattern*
Dior, 10,000 dollars. No way it could be her. same applies for 20 other woman in this room.
*a major amount of women vanishes from the crowd*
Sherlock, there's no need to make excuses. If you want to look at dresses, I won't judge you.
Shut up. and now for some final adjustments...
*captions appear over the remain women. "OCD nail biter" - gone. "desperately in love with an older man" - gone. "chronic back problems" - gone. more and more women pop out of the crowd*
we are down to four options.
*four women, in different locations around the hall, remain frozen mid-action*
time to act.
Okay, what do we do?
*takes the champagne salver from the table and hands it to confused John, and then takes the shrimps salver* I need you to go over to these two women, blonde-in-blue-dress in the center, and the one in the black dress and long hair. I'll go to the other two.
what, and - offer them a drink?
yes. and look closely. try to see if any of them acts suspicious in any way. we'll meet back here with our findings.
wait - "act suspicious" ? what do you mean?
anything strange. even the slightest gesture.
How the hell am I supposed to know your definition of strange?
you'll know it when you see it. Now go, quick!
*Sherlock rashes off before John can say anything. frustrated, John sighs then starts walking towards the first woman, carefully trying to balance the salver in his hands*
*mutters* of course he had to give me the harder one...
*as he reaches the woman, who had just had a laugh with the the man she was talking to, she turns around and notices him*
fancy a drink?
oh, thank you! *takes a glass from the salver and turns back to continue her conversation*
*John continues to walk towards the woman in the black dress, with a mane of wavy dark hair that goes down her waist. The woman is standing with her back to him, so he doesn't see her face*
would you like a drink?
*The woman doesn't answer. then, without making the slightest turn towards him, she slowly sands out her hand and leave it hanging, awaiting.
*tensed, places a glass in her hand. still not saying a word, the woman gently rests her hand back down.
nervous, John turns back and spots Sherlock at the table. He hurries to get there, relieved to put down the salver.*
*eagerly* did you find anything?
*nods* it's the one in the black dress. She didn't say a word. she didn't even move, I couldn't see her face.
Perfect. *quirky smile* now, you wait here. I'm going to escort her out of the room, wait two minutes then follow me.
*imperturbable, Sherlock starts pacing slowly over to the woman. It appears she doesn't notice, but something in her back stiffens. then, as Sherlock gets closer, she starts walking away, with measured steps, towards the exit.
Sherlock picks up his pace, almost unnoticeably, but not to the woman, who switches to a fast walk. John realizes something is wrong. Then she begins to run and time slows down, as her hand let go of the champagne glass and the liquid seems to float out in the air.
the glass shatters on the ground, and time turns back to normal as Sherlock bursts out running, followed immediately by John. People gasp and turn their heads as the three rush through the crowd. "excuse me," John automatically says as he pushes people away, trying to reach Sherlock and the woman, but they've already stormed out of the hall doors.*
*after chasing her through a few corridors Sherlock finally reaches the woman. He grabs her by the shoulder and turns her around.
Hello mister Holmes.
*Sherlock flinches as he meets the face looking back at him. panting from the chase, he stares at Irene with concealed shock, agitated, as Irene stares back, her face showing the same mix of painful feelings.*
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