"I'm already having the best time, Steph." Bucky was with her, that was all he needed.
Okay, that was a stretch. He needed other things, too, like food and sleep and probably some sort of brain scan or something, but he needed Steph. Bucky was pretty sure she kept his heart beating, even if she didn't realize it.
"Oh, you in a tiny bikini on a private beach? Sounds like a plan to me." Closing his eyes, he pictured it as he let one hand drift up and down her side. "I don't know where we'd get one of those beaches, but anywhere would be good with me." He thought about it for a moment before adding, "Hawaii's out. It's getting cold here, so we'd have to go to the southern hemisphere."
"Lots of options in Asia." Steph's eyes had started to close too, her hunger pretty much forgotten by now. "I already looked some up before, in case after Wakanda you wanted to lie low for a while longer without having to constantly look over your shoulder. I just gotta find that list."
It was probably somewhere in this guest room, honestly, since this was where she'd stashed everything remotely connected to him after he turned into dust. There was also a sketchpad or two for sure; she had spent many days drunk sketching, and she'd mostly sketched him, as if doing so would bring him back somehow. Unlike some of her more imaginative renditions in the past, she'd drawn him from her memories, and ended up with so many.
"Don't think we oughta have sex on the beach though," she added after a moment. "Sand gets everywhere." While on the run she'd had several missions with Sam and Nat in the Middle East, and one time they had the misfortune of being caught in a sandstorm.
Bucky couldn't help laughing softly then. "Steph, one of these days you gotta stop trying to throw your life away for me," he said, teasing her. But, honestly, he didn't know where he'd be if she hadn't done it over and over already. "But Asia sounds good. Maybe I'll pick up another language to add to the list." Wherever they settled on, he'd probably go ahead and start looking into the language of the area, at least a little.
"Lots of sex yes, on the beach no. You in a tiny bikini also yes. Got it." Bucky knew it had been five years, but to him, it felt like just three days earlier she'd been landing in Wakanda to pick him up for a giant battle. When he hugged her and made his quip about being a hundred-year-old semi-stable man, he didn't expect that three days--or five years--later he would be talking about their honeymoon.
But that made him think of something. "Hey, if I lost five years, does that mean you're older than me now?"
"Too late," Steph retorted with a grin. "In two days tops I'll even be legally obligated to. In stupid and in health and all that." She was teasing, but it was also the truth. It was too late, because there was nothing Bucky — or anyone — could say or do to dissuade her from throwing her life away for him, if necessary. Especially now that she knew he loved her too.
His question about their ages made her pause. She hadn't really thought about it. Eventually she decided, "I was under the ice for about seventy years and people insisted I was 90, so no, it's 2023 now, you were born in 1917, that's the math." Opening her eyes, she couldn't resist teasing, "Why, older women your type?"
Two days and Bucky could check another one of his fantasies off his list. Less sex-related, sure, but he'd always wanted to call her his wife. "I don't think we can get sick all that easy anymore," Bucky began, grinning. "Maybe we should tell the judge or whoever to change the vows to that."
He couldn't help laughing softly at her answer. "Hey, I was in a freezer for most of that time," he pointed out, tempted to point out that at least he existed during his years frozen, while he didn't exist for the five years. But, he didn't really want to drag the mood down. "Nah, age doesn't factor into my type. My type is just stupid punks from Brooklyn who somehow manage to make people think they're a hell of a lot more sweet and innocent than they are."
"Hey, I'm sweet and innocent." Steph mock batted her eyelashes at him, then, while Bucky was focused on her face, she squirmed just a little under him. To her credit, she managed to suppress the moan that wanted to escape her at how good it felt even if he was spent. His dick was wedged so, so tightly it still managed to hit some of her sweet spots.
"And if you really wanted to date older women," she continued, trying to appear unaffected though there was the slightest breathlessness as she spoke, "I know some really lovely ladies at the nursing home. I could introduce you."
Bucky, on the other hand, did not manage to suppress his groan when she moved around his cock. "Yeah, try convincing someone else of that, sweetheart," he said before pressing a kiss to her neck. "You can't just bat those baby blues and convince me like you can with everyone else. I've known you too damn long for that."
He could hear the breathlessness in her voice when she spoke, making him smirk slightly. "Oh, yeah?" he asked, then shifted his hips a bit. "You really wanna push me off on some other old lady before we even get married?" Bucky knew she didn't actually want that, she was teasing, but he could do the same to her, couldn't he?
"Look, seeing as I'm also your best friend, it is my duty to at least show you what you'll be missing once you take yourself off the market," Steph continued to tease, though it was probably not a good idea because Bucky was rocking his hips some now too. It wasn't that she didn't want another round; she just didn't want to stop when their food order arrived, and it should come anytime now.
She couldn't really bring herself to stop though. She'd missed him so much. Five years was a long time, and she'd been incredibly lonely despite being surrounded by the people she tried to help and the people who tried to help her. She would honestly be fine if all they did was talk and snuggle, but why stop there when they had admitted to loving each other and were engaged to be married?
True enough, her buzzer rang. She groaned in frustration and slumped back into the mattress. "Fuck." She closed her eyes, searching for the will to untangle herself and get up. "This better be our food and not an Avengers house call."
"Sweetheart, I was never really on the market in the first place," he said with a bit of a cheeky grin, a sliver of the man he was before he got his orders back in 1943 shining through. "You just didn't realize that almost everything I did was with you in mind."
When Bucky heard the buzzer, he also groaned as he dropped his head forward to press his forehead into Steph's shoulder. He groaned again as he pulled out of her and rolled over onto his back, draping one arm across his eyes. "If it's one of your friends, tell them we're busy and you just gave me a new gun I haven't tried out yet," he sighed. "If I go I might just slam the door in their face."
"Neither was I, and neither did you," Steph retorted with a grin, though it wasn't only from amusement at their banter. It wasn't that she was wishing for things to return to the way they were before the war, but she at least wanted Bucky to feel better about himself instead of continuing to carry the weight of his past, as she did. While the past could neither be changed nor undone, they could move forward from it and look to the future instead.
For the first time in a long time, she found herself able to do that again.
Thoughts of the future were all that powered Steph through having to get up for their food delivery order. She was already missing having Bucky inside her, and he'd pulled out only seconds ago. "I'm the one trying out a new gun," she couldn't resist saying, pointedly looking at his cock before grinning at his face. Then she slipped off the bed. "We should have some food while they're hot. No more interruptions after, promise."
She left his shirt for him to wear, dropping by her room instead to grab a dressing gown. She hastily pulled her hair up into a ponytail before moving to get the door and their food.
"That was terrible, and you should be ashamed," Bucky told her, but he was chuckling a bit anyway as he uncovered his eyes to watch her ass as she walked out of the room. It really was a beautiful sight.
Picking up his shirt and underwear, he slipped out of the room and into the bathroom, where he washed up quickly before pulling his clothes on, then wet a fresh washcloth with warm water and carried it out to Steph. "Here," he said as he took the bags from her while the door closed. Kissing her on the cheek, he pressed the washcloth into her hand before carrying the bags into the kitchen to sort everything out. He didn't even know what she ordered, but he was sure he would be fine with whatever it was.
"Bet the delivery person got a thrill outta seeing Captain America answer the door in her robe," he teased, grinning over his shoulder at her.
"Fuck you," Steph shot back with a laugh as she left the room. Okay, she had to agree it was terrible. But swearing at Bucky would never not be funny now, because she would fuck him. Like, a lot. Certainly after they had some food, since they needed to pick up where they left off.
She thanked him for the washcloth and cleaned herself up as she followed him into the kitchen. She'd clean up more thoroughly in the bathroom in a minute, but she didn't want him to do all the preparations. None of it was new, really. Whenever he stayed over at her place when they were younger, he helped with the chores and cleaned up after his own mess. At times he was over so much it was almost like he lived there. She just hadn't wanted him to ruin his prospects for marriage and a better life, not realizing there were already rumors about them secretly cohabitating anyway.
She'd ordered Chinese and twice the serving of everything; the restaurant was owned by immigrants who knew who Steph was but had an unspoken understanding with her to keep quiet about it. It probably helped that she ordered regularly and tipped well. Captain America, supporter of small businesses owned by marginalized folks.
"Not as much of a thrill as you got from seeing what's beneath it," she teased as she stole a piece of spring roll from the plate he was preparing and ate it.
Bucky had had time enough to familiarize himself with the layout of Steph's kitchen (and the rest of the apartment) in the hours between when he woke up and when she did, so it was with ease that they moved around each other, getting their meals and drinks ready to eat. It almost took him back to when they were young and moved around each other just as easily in Steph's small apartment.
Not wanting to just stand and eat, Bucky leaned across the counter to put the plates where he knew the barstools were, then turned and caught Steph around her waist as she passed him, pulling her close. "Hey," he started, grinning at her. "Don't make it past tense like that. I'm never gonna stop getting a thrill out of seeing you naked." Leaning in, he gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "I waited too long to see it in the first place to get tired of it."
Steph really liked how handsy and affectionate Bucky was now that they were officially together. She hadn't realized just how badly she craved being touched, and it didn't even have to be in a sexual manner. Grinning right back, she leaned into him for a minute. "Is this what we're trading the stupid for then?" She wasn't complaining if so.
Despite messing with him by stealing food from his plate and drinking from his glass, she would be quick to refill what she'd taken, or just in general. She thought about how, when they were young and eating together, he would give her extra because he felt she needed it more, and how she could never repay his kindness enough. Now she could. She could buy him whatever he needed, give him whatever he wanted. She was happy to. He deserved it.
She burped embarrassingly loudly, but he didn't seem to mind. Neither did he care that she'd demolished her share of everything. It was nice to be with someone who understood.
She grabbed the plate of little cake slices she got for their dessert. "Wanna have these in the living room while we put something on?"
Bucky had been fairly touchy with Steph when they were young, but back then he still had to keep it within reason, trying to keep it to what buddies would do. Nothing that would give away how he really felt about her. But now that he'd told her about his feelings, and it turned out she felt the same, there was really no reason to hold himself back from touching her any more. At least not while his mood was high and he wasn't fighting off that darkness and depression that was always lurking in him since he escaped.
But he was going to try to hold that back as long as possible.
Chuckling at the sheer volume of Steph's burp, he picked up the plates once they were done and carried them to the kitchen. "Sounds good," he said about eating the cake in the living room before giving the dishes a rinse and then sticking them in the dishwasher.
Once he was done with that, he followed her to the living room and sat beside her on the couch, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. "We can watch whatever you want," he told her simply. "I still don't know shit about movies or TV since the 40s."
Steph perked up. "I gotta you show this film." She extracted herself from Bucky's arms to set up the DVD player (she still had one) and put on one of her animated favorites, Treasure Planet.
They were probably making out after the first 20 minutes, but he was one of the few people she was comfortable enough to yap about her interests, and who would humor her and actually listen. "So this is Treasure Island, but animated and set in space." He used to read her that book, among many other classics. "It uses both hand-drawn and computer animation," she continued, spouting more facts about art and animation while shoving spoonfuls of cake into her mouth, though she offered every other spoonful to him.
"I was taking animation classes that time I lived in D.C.," she told him, sounding wistful. "I thought I was done fighting then. But Fury had me where he wanted me, even had Sharon pretend to be my neighbor." She shook her head. "Then HYDRA... well, you know what happened after that."
Bucky smiled as he listened to Steph ramble about art and animation, and gladly took each bite of cake when it was offered. He wasn't sure there was ever a time when he got tired of listening to her explain her interests to him, and he usually asked clarifying or encouraging questions. Pretty much everything he knew about art was because of her.
But the idea of Treasure Island in space definitely intrigued him.
"Have you thought about picking those classes up again?" he asked eventually, once the cake was gone and they were lying together on the couch. At some point, Bucky had stretched out, and Steph had settled in, lying on top of him with his arms wrapped around her. "You'd be good at it. Plus, you've always been a damn good artist anyway."
He, on the other hand, could barely draw a stick figure.
"I didn't exactly have the time," Steph answered, "and when I did, I didn't have... well, you."
She tilted her head to peer up at him. "When I first took those classes, I thought it was a good way to, I dunno, make you proud. You've always believed in me, and a life doing art seemed better than a life of fighting. When you were gone, again..." She laughed, but it was hollow, and she turned to face the TV again. "I mostly sketched or painted while I was drunk. Pretty good shit, just too painful to look at."
Somewhere in that guest bedroom where some of those paintings, covered and tucked away and collecting dust. "I did some portraits of you, but I never finished them. It felt like letting go to do so, and I didn't want to let go."
"What about now, though?" he asked, his hand drifting up and down the soft material at the back of her housecoat. With a grin, he lifted his head enough to press a kiss to her forehead before letting it fall back down to the pillow on the couch. "Or, January, I guess it would be. Next semester. I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere, so what's stopping you now?"
Bucky would always believe in her. That would never change. "And if not that, and you don't have to keep fighting, what else would you want to do?" It was a genuine question. Bucky knew there was a hell of a lot more different kinds of options in the world now than there were when they were young and first talking about their futures. "Something else with art?" God, he would love to see her stop fighting and make some kind of career in art instead. She was so good at it, and she loved it so much.
"You mean I can't just be a stay at home wife and have sex with you all the time?" Steph joked with a laugh.
She supposed now was a good time as any to think about it. She would be restless soon enough after she'd hang up the shield. "I still got some loose ends to take care of, so if I do it, it won't be by January. Probably the semester after that. Besides, maybe we could travel for a bit, see the world without having to be deployed to a battlefield?"
"Hey, if that's what you want to do, don't let me stop you," Bucky smiled. He let his eyes close as he lay there, relaxed under the weight of her as they talked about their future.
"Anything you want to do, I'm gonna support you, sweetheart," he started simply. "Anything you need help with, I'm here to help with, and anywhere you want to go I'm right behind you." Steph was genuinely stuck with him, after all. She was the one who agreed to marry him.
Plus, Bucky himself had no real direction to work towards, so he would be happy to help Steph with whatever direction she wanted to go in.
"I think we earned at least a year of playing house and doing nothing else." Steph had enough money squirreled away by now to live comfortably for a while, and she did want to spoil Bucky for a change, since it was something she could never afford back in the day. "Then I'll think about going back to school."
She closed her eyes and snuggled into him some more. "You know I'm here for you too, right? Anything you want. Anything you need. If you wanna raise goats then we'll find someplace where you can do that." Well, they wouldn't be themselves if they didn't throw in some good old-fashioned ribbing.
"Sounds like a plan to me," he said, chuckling softly.
But then, he sighed. "I know," he began, a frown forming on his face as he opened his eyes to stare up at the ceiling. "I don't really have goals though. Hell, Steph, we don't even know what's gonna happen with this trial, aside from both of us knowing it's coming eventually." Staying a free man felt... unlikely, to him. They could lock him away and throw away the key, or hell, depending on what state the trial was held in, for all he knew they could put him on death row. Logically, he knew that all those murders hadn't been him, or his choice, or anything else like that. Guilt didn't feel that way, though, and convincing some sort of judge and jury of that might be even harder.
"I'm gonna try my damnedest to stay with you, though."
Steph shifted to look up at Bucky's face and vowed, "They're not taking you away from me," in that same tone she used whenever she was facing impossible odds but she'd decided she was fighting anyway.
For probably the first time ever though, she had running as an option. She would rather live a fugitive than lose him again. So Madripoor was in the cards; no extradition treaty. Plus the art black market was something she could learn to dabble in and use to their advantage.
And then there was her last resort: time travel. Their discussion had been brief, but the surviving Avengers who had been involved in the heist had unanimously agreed that she return the Stones. What if she took him with her, and they just... didn't come back?
"I actually need your help with something." Might as well get him on board already, even if only for a backup plan. "Think you're up for one last mission?"
There was a soft, almost sad, smile on Bucky's face when he looked back at Steph then. "Hey, don't worry. I'm not giving up or anything," he told her honestly. "We'll figure something out." Maybe he could offer to be put in the custody of Captain America. Can't be more than 30 feet away from her or something. Whatever was decided, he was going to do whatever possible to stay by her side. They'd been separated enough.
But his brow perked when she asked that. "With you? I guess I can put off being a house husband for a while longer. What do you need?" Bucky had no way to know Steph had already discussed any other missions or anything. It must have been before he came back, since he'd been glued to her since the fight ended.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Okay, that was a stretch. He needed other things, too, like food and sleep and probably some sort of brain scan or something, but he needed Steph. Bucky was pretty sure she kept his heart beating, even if she didn't realize it.
"Oh, you in a tiny bikini on a private beach? Sounds like a plan to me." Closing his eyes, he pictured it as he let one hand drift up and down her side. "I don't know where we'd get one of those beaches, but anywhere would be good with me." He thought about it for a moment before adding, "Hawaii's out. It's getting cold here, so we'd have to go to the southern hemisphere."
no subject
It was probably somewhere in this guest room, honestly, since this was where she'd stashed everything remotely connected to him after he turned into dust. There was also a sketchpad or two for sure; she had spent many days drunk sketching, and she'd mostly sketched him, as if doing so would bring him back somehow. Unlike some of her more imaginative renditions in the past, she'd drawn him from her memories, and ended up with so many.
"Don't think we oughta have sex on the beach though," she added after a moment. "Sand gets everywhere." While on the run she'd had several missions with Sam and Nat in the Middle East, and one time they had the misfortune of being caught in a sandstorm.
no subject
"Lots of sex yes, on the beach no. You in a tiny bikini also yes. Got it." Bucky knew it had been five years, but to him, it felt like just three days earlier she'd been landing in Wakanda to pick him up for a giant battle. When he hugged her and made his quip about being a hundred-year-old semi-stable man, he didn't expect that three days--or five years--later he would be talking about their honeymoon.
But that made him think of something. "Hey, if I lost five years, does that mean you're older than me now?"
no subject
His question about their ages made her pause. She hadn't really thought about it. Eventually she decided, "I was under the ice for about seventy years and people insisted I was 90, so no, it's 2023 now, you were born in 1917, that's the math." Opening her eyes, she couldn't resist teasing, "Why, older women your type?"
no subject
He couldn't help laughing softly at her answer. "Hey, I was in a freezer for most of that time," he pointed out, tempted to point out that at least he existed during his years frozen, while he didn't exist for the five years. But, he didn't really want to drag the mood down. "Nah, age doesn't factor into my type. My type is just stupid punks from Brooklyn who somehow manage to make people think they're a hell of a lot more sweet and innocent than they are."
no subject
"And if you really wanted to date older women," she continued, trying to appear unaffected though there was the slightest breathlessness as she spoke, "I know some really lovely ladies at the nursing home. I could introduce you."
no subject
He could hear the breathlessness in her voice when she spoke, making him smirk slightly. "Oh, yeah?" he asked, then shifted his hips a bit. "You really wanna push me off on some other old lady before we even get married?" Bucky knew she didn't actually want that, she was teasing, but he could do the same to her, couldn't he?
no subject
She couldn't really bring herself to stop though. She'd missed him so much. Five years was a long time, and she'd been incredibly lonely despite being surrounded by the people she tried to help and the people who tried to help her. She would honestly be fine if all they did was talk and snuggle, but why stop there when they had admitted to loving each other and were engaged to be married?
True enough, her buzzer rang. She groaned in frustration and slumped back into the mattress. "Fuck." She closed her eyes, searching for the will to untangle herself and get up. "This better be our food and not an Avengers house call."
no subject
When Bucky heard the buzzer, he also groaned as he dropped his head forward to press his forehead into Steph's shoulder. He groaned again as he pulled out of her and rolled over onto his back, draping one arm across his eyes. "If it's one of your friends, tell them we're busy and you just gave me a new gun I haven't tried out yet," he sighed. "If I go I might just slam the door in their face."
no subject
For the first time in a long time, she found herself able to do that again.
Thoughts of the future were all that powered Steph through having to get up for their food delivery order. She was already missing having Bucky inside her, and he'd pulled out only seconds ago. "I'm the one trying out a new gun," she couldn't resist saying, pointedly looking at his cock before grinning at his face. Then she slipped off the bed. "We should have some food while they're hot. No more interruptions after, promise."
She left his shirt for him to wear, dropping by her room instead to grab a dressing gown. She hastily pulled her hair up into a ponytail before moving to get the door and their food.
no subject
Picking up his shirt and underwear, he slipped out of the room and into the bathroom, where he washed up quickly before pulling his clothes on, then wet a fresh washcloth with warm water and carried it out to Steph. "Here," he said as he took the bags from her while the door closed. Kissing her on the cheek, he pressed the washcloth into her hand before carrying the bags into the kitchen to sort everything out. He didn't even know what she ordered, but he was sure he would be fine with whatever it was.
"Bet the delivery person got a thrill outta seeing Captain America answer the door in her robe," he teased, grinning over his shoulder at her.
no subject
She thanked him for the washcloth and cleaned herself up as she followed him into the kitchen. She'd clean up more thoroughly in the bathroom in a minute, but she didn't want him to do all the preparations. None of it was new, really. Whenever he stayed over at her place when they were younger, he helped with the chores and cleaned up after his own mess. At times he was over so much it was almost like he lived there. She just hadn't wanted him to ruin his prospects for marriage and a better life, not realizing there were already rumors about them secretly cohabitating anyway.
She'd ordered Chinese and twice the serving of everything; the restaurant was owned by immigrants who knew who Steph was but had an unspoken understanding with her to keep quiet about it. It probably helped that she ordered regularly and tipped well. Captain America, supporter of small businesses owned by marginalized folks.
"Not as much of a thrill as you got from seeing what's beneath it," she teased as she stole a piece of spring roll from the plate he was preparing and ate it.
no subject
Not wanting to just stand and eat, Bucky leaned across the counter to put the plates where he knew the barstools were, then turned and caught Steph around her waist as she passed him, pulling her close. "Hey," he started, grinning at her. "Don't make it past tense like that. I'm never gonna stop getting a thrill out of seeing you naked." Leaning in, he gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "I waited too long to see it in the first place to get tired of it."
no subject
Despite messing with him by stealing food from his plate and drinking from his glass, she would be quick to refill what she'd taken, or just in general. She thought about how, when they were young and eating together, he would give her extra because he felt she needed it more, and how she could never repay his kindness enough. Now she could. She could buy him whatever he needed, give him whatever he wanted. She was happy to. He deserved it.
She burped embarrassingly loudly, but he didn't seem to mind. Neither did he care that she'd demolished her share of everything. It was nice to be with someone who understood.
She grabbed the plate of little cake slices she got for their dessert. "Wanna have these in the living room while we put something on?"
no subject
But he was going to try to hold that back as long as possible.
Chuckling at the sheer volume of Steph's burp, he picked up the plates once they were done and carried them to the kitchen. "Sounds good," he said about eating the cake in the living room before giving the dishes a rinse and then sticking them in the dishwasher.
Once he was done with that, he followed her to the living room and sat beside her on the couch, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. "We can watch whatever you want," he told her simply. "I still don't know shit about movies or TV since the 40s."
i had to now
They were probably making out after the first 20 minutes, but he was one of the few people she was comfortable enough to yap about her interests, and who would humor her and actually listen. "So this is Treasure Island, but animated and set in space." He used to read her that book, among many other classics. "It uses both hand-drawn and computer animation," she continued, spouting more facts about art and animation while shoving spoonfuls of cake into her mouth, though she offered every other spoonful to him.
"I was taking animation classes that time I lived in D.C.," she told him, sounding wistful. "I thought I was done fighting then. But Fury had me where he wanted me, even had Sharon pretend to be my neighbor." She shook her head. "Then HYDRA... well, you know what happened after that."
yesssss
But the idea of Treasure Island in space definitely intrigued him.
"Have you thought about picking those classes up again?" he asked eventually, once the cake was gone and they were lying together on the couch. At some point, Bucky had stretched out, and Steph had settled in, lying on top of him with his arms wrapped around her. "You'd be good at it. Plus, you've always been a damn good artist anyway."
He, on the other hand, could barely draw a stick figure.
no subject
She tilted her head to peer up at him. "When I first took those classes, I thought it was a good way to, I dunno, make you proud. You've always believed in me, and a life doing art seemed better than a life of fighting. When you were gone, again..." She laughed, but it was hollow, and she turned to face the TV again. "I mostly sketched or painted while I was drunk. Pretty good shit, just too painful to look at."
Somewhere in that guest bedroom where some of those paintings, covered and tucked away and collecting dust. "I did some portraits of you, but I never finished them. It felt like letting go to do so, and I didn't want to let go."
no subject
Bucky would always believe in her. That would never change. "And if not that, and you don't have to keep fighting, what else would you want to do?" It was a genuine question. Bucky knew there was a hell of a lot more different kinds of options in the world now than there were when they were young and first talking about their futures. "Something else with art?" God, he would love to see her stop fighting and make some kind of career in art instead. She was so good at it, and she loved it so much.
no subject
She supposed now was a good time as any to think about it. She would be restless soon enough after she'd hang up the shield. "I still got some loose ends to take care of, so if I do it, it won't be by January. Probably the semester after that. Besides, maybe we could travel for a bit, see the world without having to be deployed to a battlefield?"
no subject
"Anything you want to do, I'm gonna support you, sweetheart," he started simply. "Anything you need help with, I'm here to help with, and anywhere you want to go I'm right behind you." Steph was genuinely stuck with him, after all. She was the one who agreed to marry him.
Plus, Bucky himself had no real direction to work towards, so he would be happy to help Steph with whatever direction she wanted to go in.
no subject
She closed her eyes and snuggled into him some more. "You know I'm here for you too, right? Anything you want. Anything you need. If you wanna raise goats then we'll find someplace where you can do that." Well, they wouldn't be themselves if they didn't throw in some good old-fashioned ribbing.
no subject
But then, he sighed. "I know," he began, a frown forming on his face as he opened his eyes to stare up at the ceiling. "I don't really have goals though. Hell, Steph, we don't even know what's gonna happen with this trial, aside from both of us knowing it's coming eventually." Staying a free man felt... unlikely, to him. They could lock him away and throw away the key, or hell, depending on what state the trial was held in, for all he knew they could put him on death row. Logically, he knew that all those murders hadn't been him, or his choice, or anything else like that. Guilt didn't feel that way, though, and convincing some sort of judge and jury of that might be even harder.
"I'm gonna try my damnedest to stay with you, though."
no subject
For probably the first time ever though, she had running as an option. She would rather live a fugitive than lose him again. So Madripoor was in the cards; no extradition treaty. Plus the art black market was something she could learn to dabble in and use to their advantage.
And then there was her last resort: time travel. Their discussion had been brief, but the surviving Avengers who had been involved in the heist had unanimously agreed that she return the Stones. What if she took him with her, and they just... didn't come back?
"I actually need your help with something." Might as well get him on board already, even if only for a backup plan. "Think you're up for one last mission?"
no subject
But his brow perked when she asked that. "With you? I guess I can put off being a house husband for a while longer. What do you need?" Bucky had no way to know Steph had already discussed any other missions or anything. It must have been before he came back, since he'd been glued to her since the fight ended.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)