The boys read some more fan fic and make fools of themselves in front of Tony. One of the fics gets a little smutty, there’s your warning!
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“Buck.” Steve cleared his throat, scratching along his chin uneasily. “There’s only one bed.”
“So?” Bucky tossed their bag onto the rickety chair near the window. “It’s a room, Stevie. We’ve been sleeping on th’ fuckin’ ground getting eaten alive by all sortsa bugs for six days. It’s a room, it’s a bed—“ Bucky tore the cap off a warm beer and took a long drink, grimacing at the taste. “— so I’m gonna pound this piss poor excuse for beer and pass out against that shitty lookin’ pillow. You’re more than welcome to sleep on the floor if you’re gonna be weird about it.”
“I’m just saying it seems a little…” Steve cleared his throat again. “… I mean, after what happened I thought you wouldn’t want to be around me? Feels like things are maybe a little–”
“We has to snuggle for warmth.” Bucky interrupted. “It was raining, it was fuckin’ freezing, we needed body warmth, it is what it is. We got all cuddled up, you got a little morning wood, ended up humping me a little, it happens. We’re guys. Stop being stupid about it.”
“BUCKY!” Steve turned bright red. “It’s not like I mean to do– to do that!”
“It’s fine, Stevie.” A look Steve had never seen before flickered through Bucky’s eyes. “Wasn’t like I pushed you away, you know?”
“I guess you didn’t.” Steve said awkwardly, remembering in vivid detail how Bucky had grabbed at him for just a few seconds, how the metal fingers had felt digging into his thigh and pulling him into Bucky’s body again. “But you’re right. No reason for things to be weird, we’ll share a bed and I’ll try not to uh– to rub against you tonight.”
Bucky didn’t say anything to that, but his gaze dropped over Steve’s body, lingering below his waist until Steve started shifting nervously.
“Well then.” Bucky finally said. “I’m going to take a shower, I’ll save you some water.”
“Yeah.” Steve dropped onto the bed, and then jumped right back up, somehow turning an even brighter shade of red, mortified over the direction his thoughts had suddenly gone, the thought of sharing a real bed with Bucky enough to make him–
“You got a real stupid look on your face right now, Stevie.” Bucky cracked a grin. “Stop over thinkin’ it, huh?”
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“Hey Stevie.” Bucky looked up from their bed and tsked sympathetically when Steve came through the door. “Rough day?”
“Does it look like a rough day?” Steve griped, dropping his stained shield onto the ground and stepping out of his nearly shredded boots with a grimace. “Be glad you had to sit this one out.”
He regretted the flippant comment instantly, when Bucky’s pale eyes flickered in hurt and resignation, the plates on his left arm shifting and clicking as he clenched his fist.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Steve said with a sigh. “I wasn’t trying to make fun, babe. When we agreed to keep you out of things that might potentially trigger the Soldier–”
“It’s fine.” Bucky waved him off, shaking his head jerkily. “S’fine, Stevie. Better to leave me at home than to risk setting me off in public, yeah? I know. It’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine, and Steve felt awful for trying to make light of it. All this time Bucky had been part of the team and he still sat on the sidelines more often than not, posted up in the bedroom waiting for the rest of them to come home and tell him what had happened. It was a constant reminder that even though Bucky was Bucky again, there was still a part of him hidden away, one that may or may not be activated at any time, one that might or might not be suddenly violent if triggered, one that could be brought to the surface by something as simple as flashing lights.
It wasn’t fine.
“I missed you today.” Steve kept his voice soft, tried to change the subject. “Missed having you in my ear. Clint is my point man when you aren’t there and the guy keeps up a running commentary on literally anything he sees just to fill the silence. At one point he asked Natasha if she wanted some bag an old lady was carrying and she said no, she wanted the actual Prada bag and he started wailing about how he gets paid archer money not super spy money so he couldn’t afford it.”
Bucky’s lips twitched towards a smile and encouraged, Steve added– “I tried turning the mic’s down but I must have turned them down on his end too because he just turned his hearing aids up and started shouting his stories so I gave up.”
In a bid to broker a lasting peace throughout the Nine Kingdoms, all the single Princes Charming™ were gathered together to be scrutinised as prospective suitors for the three beautiful Princesses from the elusive (and evil) Eighth Kingdom: Hela, Amora, and Lorelei. It was up to their youngest brother, Loki, to decide if the Princes were worthy of his sisters’ hands in marriage (as well as hopefully resilient to magical torture, bodily harm, and death by dragon). The eminently eligible Prince Thor of the illustrious First Kingdom was, unsurprisingly, the frontrunner in the competition. Usually, the mere mention of marriage had Thor running for the hills but he was lightning quick to change his mind when he met the exceptionally lovely Prince Loki. Fortunately for Thor, Loki wanted him nowhere near his sisters. Unfortunately for Thor, that seemed to apply doubly to Loki himself. But Thor had always craved adventure above all else, and he’d overcome every challenge he’d ever encountered, because that’s what heroes did. However, he was quickly coming to realise that he’d never faced a challenge like Loki, and they both discovered that perhaps falling in love was the greatest adventure of them all.
This ^^ is exactly right. Peters tattoos are about control,’something that is his to see however he wants to. So yes, it starts out as sort of a harmful coping mechanism but turns into something beautiful BUT it didn’t require him changing his way of coping it just required him changing his perception of how he was coping.
Like Wade wasn’t going to tell him to stop getting inked, but he was going to tell him to stop seeing it as punishment and see it as more of a reward
Healing from (insert literally anything here) starts with a shift in perception of ourselves and grows from there and that’s the point I was trying to make when it came to Peter healing. It wasn’t fast and it wasn’t easy but it started with switching from “I’m bad for this reason” to “I’m good for this reason”
Okay first of all, this got like ridiculously long, I don’t know what happened to my short story. Second, the plot got away from me and it ended up quite a bit more feelsy than I had intended.
Tony told Peter several different times that they could use the helicopter to get up to the Avengers Compound for the party that weekend. It was close to a three hour drive after all, four if they hit traffic leaving the city and probably five if it snowed and the roads were bad, which was almost guaranteed to happen since it was November and winter.
Peter had politely declined for both he and Wade, appreciating the offer but knowing that Wade hated to fly— something about wind advisories and a mission that had gone bad when he was on X force?— and realizing that the helicopter ride would mean sharing space with most of the rest of the team, a car ride just sounded like more fun.
Besides, he and Wade had things to talk about, things that needed to be said before they spent a night upstate together, and those things didn’t really need to be said at the Official Grand Re-Opening Party for the new Avengers place.
Not that they were spending the night together, per se. Tony had apparently designated rooms for all the Avengers and that included part time Avengers like he and Wade, probably DareDevil and the always frightening Ms Jessica Jones, and Peter was pretty sure he had seen Charles Xavier and someone named Logan on the list too.
So no, he and Wade weren’t technically spending the night together, and it wasn’t like they didn’t hang out all the time minus masks and suits anyway? But it would be the first time they’d seen each other since The Incident and Peter really didn’t want their first conversation since The Incident to be in a helicopter full of Avengers.
And road trips were good for long talks right? They could stare at the scenery while talking about important things? Even if the weather was bad and it started snowing– which it definitely would because the sky was already cloudy and gloomy and it was fucking freezing outside– it would be fine. Long talks were infinitely easier when there didn’t have to be extended eye contact, right?
Right.
So. They could talk about The Incident and move past the awkward moment and get right back to just hanging out and sassing each other and making fun of the Avengers.
(TW: Mentions of depressions, tattoos as substitutes for self harm, Peter is in a bad place mentally. This is a darker fic, but it turns around in the end)
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Peter Parker got his first tattoo seventeen days after Uncle Ben died.
It was his fault after all, that Uncle Ben was gone. Some weird cosmic retaliation for being foolish enough to enjoy having his spider powers maybe. Karma getting back at him for being a stubborn snarky teenager who should have just listened and not been a brat, perhaps. Or maybe the universe just had it out for him, just like it had since his parents had disappeared.
Either way, Uncle Ben died and it was Peter’s fault and seventeen days later he was in a sketchy tattoo shop getting inked by a guy who had looked him up and down, muttered something about “underage kid probably wanting a stupid ass tattoo” and had directed him towards a chair anyway.
“I want a spider.” Peter said softly, clearly. “Right here.” He pointed to the spider-bite that had never really gone away, still a visible bump against his skin. “Nothing fancy. A black body, eight legs, call it good.”
“A spider.” the artist repeated. “What for?”
“Does it matter?” Peter slumped in his chair and closed his eyes when the needle started buzzing. “Just give me a spider.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
It barely hurt, or at least the pain barely registered, and with such a small tattoo, Peter was inked and done and out the door in less than an hour, the spider harsh and black against his skin.
It was his first tattoo, a silent reminder of what he had caused, a silent acknowledgment of his guilt.
It was his first tattoo, but it wasn’t the last, not even close.
Welcome to the Story! Stucky discovers Fan Fiction!
(Masterlist coming soon)
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“Uh sorry, what?” Bucky leaned further over the podium and narrowed his eyes curiously at the reporter. “What did you call that? Fan fiction?”
“Yes!” The young woman held out her recorder eagerly. “Since you and Captain America–” a nervous glance and a titter in Steve’s direction. “– are the first openly gay super hero couple, there is a pretty substantial amount of fan fiction written about you, and one of the questions in our reader poll was whether or not–” She checked her notes. “-whether or not Steve and Bucky read the stories under their tag on Tumblr.”
“Uh–Uh–” Bucky’s mouth opened a little awkwardly, and he ran a hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. “I can’t really say? I mean, I didn’t even know what– what is fan fiction exactly? What the hell is a tumbler?”
“I’d really rather not say.” The reporter turned pink. “But you should definitely Google it.” A pause, and then she pushed the recorder back towards him and asked, “You do know what Google is, don’t you? Our readers were very interested in exactly how adjusted you are to 21st century life. Are computers something you use often?”
“Uh thank you, Ms. Robinson.” Steve cut in when Bucky started looking a little panicked. “I can assure you that Bucky does know what Google is, and thanks to Tony, he even has his own tablet.”
An impressed murmur from the crowd, and Steve stepped on Bucky’s toe when the big brunette started to scowl. “Be polite.” he whispered, and then louder to the reporter, “Um, I don’t know what fan fiction is, but going back to your original question before that one? We are of course glad to hear that being open with our relationship is encouraging other people to also be open in theirs.”
“Bucky and I spent a long time hiding who we were from the world and being able to do this–” He laced his and Bucky’s fingers together, holding them up for the cameras to see. “– feels pretty great.”
Stuckony Fanfic Within A Fanfic (damn that needs a title)
“Stevie?” Bucky dropped his jacket and dove onto the bed, full panic mode because Steve was crying on the bed, holding onto a pillow and gasping for breath through a sob and Bucky was panicking. “Babydoll what’s wrong? What’s wrong? Do you hurt? Are you sick? Did your cough come back? Is it your heart? Your lungs? The diabetes? What is it?”
“Bucky.” Steve sniffed loudly and scrubbed the tears from his cheeks. “I haven’t even had a cold since before the war, its certainly not diabetes, Im not hurting.” He paused, then his face crumpled. “Not physically anyway!”
“Well for fucks sake what’s wrong?” Bucky bellowed, grappling at Steve until the big blonde landed in his lap. “How come I gotta walk into th’ bedroom and you’re cryin?”
“Ireadafic.” Steve mumbled and after a few seconds to interpret the rushed together words, Bucky’s expression cleared in realization, then reclouded in annoyance.
“A fuckin’ fanfic is making you bawl like this? WHY?”
“This writer!” Steve felt around for his tablet. “Whoever this @youknowwhoiam is? They wrote a soulmate fic where they’re in love with us and we’re in love with them and we’re all soulmates? But since we’re super soldiers and don’t really age…”
“We stayed young and they got old and died.” Bucky finished and Steve nodded miserably. “C’mon Stevie, you know ya can’t read fics like that. You remember what happened when you read that one where they cough up flowers because of unrequited love or whatever? You were a mess!”
“I need to tell them I cried over this fic.” Steve blew his nose loudly. “I need an account so I can comment.”
“No one needs to know you’re crying over fanfic.” Bucky said firmly. “Comment anonymously cos I swear to Christ if you comment as Captain America I’ll break up with you.”
Tony is sick of Pepper picking out his dates for events (“I’m a grown man.” “No strippers.” “Pepper, dancing is an honest job and takes a lot of-“ “Tony.”) and so he does the only rational thing. He gets drunk and orders an online Russian bride. In Natalia’s profile, yes he read it, she says she has a brother that she wants to come with her. When he scrolls to the next picture his brain practically short circuited, because holy shit. Her brother is fucking gorgeous; he’s tall and muscular with stormy, grey eyes and a scowl that makes Tony feel all tingly inside. He’s probably not really her brother and it’s just a scheme for Natalia to bring her lover to the states, but Tony doesn’t give a shit. He’d do anything to see that glare in person.
Tony’s never made a payment faster in his life than he did now (he’ll worry about making getting them permanent visas later).
Natalia is thrilled with the entire arrangement.
Tony makes it perfectly obvious that what he REALLY needs is Pepper approved companionship to various events, and Natasha is gorgeous and hilarious in a “I might actually kill you” sort of way, and over the course of countless charity events and press conferences with the stunning redhead on his arm, they actually become friends.
Now instead of just Pepper approved companionship, Natasha teaches Tony to cook and they laugh through terrible movies and there’s no photographic proof but they definitely have painted each other nails.
Bucky on the other hand is silent and sullen and rarely leaves the Tower at all, only speaks in Russian, and watches Tony with the sort of intensity that leaves Tony in a constant state of scare-rousal.
But Tony tries anyway, and when he and Natasha cook he teases and flirts and cajoles until Bucky eats some, and he learns some basic Russian and tries (Terribly) to speak it and Natasha almost falls out of her chair laughing over his just awful accent but Bucky smiles a little over it so Tony keeps trying.
Laundry gets mixed up and Tony ends up wearing one of Buckys shirts and loves it so much he just keeps it? Bucky approves.
Bucky needs chapstick one day and Natasha gives him pale pink gloss and he scowls but puts it on and Tony APPROVES.
Tony can’t sleep and ends up downstairs to watch a movie and completely interrupts Bucky in what is apparently a nighttime ritual of America’s Next Top Model re runs and huge bowls of ice cream.
Bucky wanders into the lab and gives a high girly scream when JARVIS speaks to him and after Tony stops cackling he gives Bucky his own code to the lab.
And then one day, one day when Tony needs Natasha to go with him to some gala, Bucky goes with him instead in some ridiculously fitted tux and his hair pulled back and Tony almost dies.
And that night Bucky walks Tony to his room and taps at his own cheek and very clearly says, “Kiss.”
Tonys never been ordered to give a cheek kiss before but he’s also never had the hots for a terrifying Russian guy, so he puckers up and kisses his cheek.
And then his mouth.
And Bucky probably breaks the door when he pushes it open but whatever.
And Tony has HICKEYS like a mothafucka the next morning but whatever.
And Natasha starts calling Bucky Tonys mail order bride and Bucky puts her in a headlock because that’s what siblings do.
Stuckony Fanfic Within A Fanfic (damn that needs a title)
“Stevie?” Bucky dropped his jacket and dove onto the bed, full panic mode because Steve was crying on the bed, holding onto a pillow and gasping for breath through a sob and Bucky was panicking. “Babydoll what’s wrong? What’s wrong? Do you hurt? Are you sick? Did your cough come back? Is it your heart? Your lungs? The diabetes? What is it?”
“Bucky.” Steve sniffed loudly and scrubbed the tears from his cheeks. “I haven’t even had a cold since before the war, its certainly not diabetes, Im not hurting.” He paused, then his face crumpled. “Not physically anyway!”
“Well for fucks sake what’s wrong?” Bucky bellowed, grappling at Steve until the big blonde landed in his lap. “How come I gotta walk into th’ bedroom and you’re cryin?”
“Ireadafic.” Steve mumbled and after a few seconds to interpret the rushed together words, Bucky’s expression cleared in realization, then reclouded in annoyance.
“A fuckin’ fanfic is making you bawl like this? WHY?”
“This writer!” Steve felt around for his tablet. “Whoever this @youknowwhoiam is? They wrote a soulmate fic where they’re in love with us and we’re in love with them and we’re all soulmates? But since we’re super soldiers and don’t really age…”
“We stayed young and they got old and died.” Bucky finished and Steve nodded miserably. “C’mon Stevie, you know ya can’t read fics like that. You remember what happened when you read that one where they cough up flowers because of unrequited love or whatever? You were a mess!”
“I need to tell them I cried over this fic.” Steve blew his nose loudly. “I need an account so I can comment.”
“No one needs to know you’re crying over fanfic.” Bucky said firmly. “Comment anonymously cos I swear to Christ if you comment as Captain America I’ll break up with you.”
themusechronicles 