#incubigirl

[the-agent-carter]

incubigirl replied to your post “Serious Question!”

That box is amazing! Go with the Zelda one!

Thank you, I appreciate the input!

[the-agent-carter]

You just caught me stealing my phone back from the teachers desk and it turns out you were here to steal the lesson plans. Wow you’re a thief…. (stucky please and thank you)

Bucky was dead.  He had been specifically told if he had his phone taken away one more time then all his privileges to the outside world would be terminated.  George Barnes wasn’t a man to be crossed; he meant every damn word he said, and Bucky took each word to heart.

So it was imperative, critical even, that he get his phone back from Mr. Coulson.  He knew he’d probably wind up in bigger trouble for taking it back.  But he could usually play Coulson like a fiddle, and his sob story was pretty solid if he did say so himself.

Coulson would be sympathetic in the end.  Bucky just didn’t have the opportunity to work him over today.  His dad would be home early, and if he didn’t have his phone with him then all hell would break loose; which was why he was casually slipping into his AP History teacher’s classroom after the last bell had rung.

No one was in the classroom.  Coulson supposedly had a meeting with the student council that afternoon; the details for prom were still up in the air, and they needed to be hammered out.  Or that’s what he’d been told by Sam Wilson who was vice president of the senior class.

So he had some time to retrieve his phone without detection.  Hell, he might be able to slip in early the next morning and put his phone back in Coulson’s desk so he wouldn’t be any the wiser to the heist.  In which case, he wouldn’t have to get in trouble at all; it would work out perfectly!

Marveled by his own genius, Bucky walked on sure-feet towards the front of the classroom.  He had seen Coulson deposit his phone into the left-hand desk drawer, where most confiscated items were kept.

He got to the desk, before he gave his surroundings a cursory look.  He was still very much alone, so he reached down and slid open the drawer.  There was a baseball, rubber bands, a laser pointer, an old iPod, different flavored bubblegum packets, and a familiar phone on top of it all.

Victoriously, Bucky wrapped his fingers around his phone and that’s when he heard the doorknob turn.  He froze in place; his confidence had diminished within a matter of seconds and he could only stand there with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar.

He was busted.  He was better than dead.  He might as well throw himself out the second story window because his dad was going to do far worse when Principal Fury called him with all the offenses he committed in a single school day.

The door swung open and a not-so formidable figure appeared.  It definitely wasn’t Coulson; the frame was too scrawny and short, and pale blonde hair, neatly parted, was atop of the person’s head.  It was Rogers, Steve Rogers.

Steve shut the door without a sound, and turned towards the front of the room; only to startle when he saw Bucky there.  The two of them gaped at the other, confused by why they happened to be in the same room.

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to Steve.  It had to have been in the eighth grade in the very least.  They used to be close when they were kids, but they’d grown apart.  Or rather, Steve had pushed him away to the point where their friendship had fractured.

The details were kind of murky now, but Bucky remembered vaguely that Steve had called him something pretty nasty to get him to go away.  And well, they hadn’t any reason to talk since then.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked in a hushed tone, as if the place was wired.

“I should be asking you the same thing.” Bucky retorted.

Steve closed his mouth into a firm, stubborn line.  Bucky knew that look all too well.  Steve never backed down from anything, even against someone way bigger and tougher than him; Bucky included.

“I needed to look at somethin’ that’s all.”

“And what would that be?”

“You ain’t my ma.” Steve glowered at him, which only made Bucky sneer.

“If I was your ma, I’d knock you into next week for being a punk.” Bucky grabbed his phone and stuffed it into his pocket, before he shut the desk drawer.

For a split-second, Bucky swore that Steve was close to throwing himself across the room to attack him.  But instead he calmly walked around Coulson’s desk and pulled open the top drawer on the other side.  He shifted through its contents until he found whatever he’d been looking for.

Steve pulled out a manila folder and placed it onto the desk, and rifled through the paperwork.  He then pulled out a packet with the heading AP History; Lesson Plans (November 7th-December 5th).

“The hell are you doing, Rogers?” Bucky asked.

“Going to make a copy of this, so I can be ahead of the curve.”

“You’re gunning for valedictorian.” Bucky remembered Steve was pretty ambitious on the academic front; he’d do anything to beat out Tony Stark. “You fucking thief!”

“Look whose talking!”

“Technically this my property not Coulson’s,”

“Technically, he took it from you and you’re stealing it back.  Which makes you a goddamn thief too,” Steve retorted flatly, and something about that tone sent Bucky over the edge.

Without meaning to, Bucky let out an abrupt laugh.  He slapped a hand over his mouth and several more spilled out, until his whole body was shaking from the force of them.

Steve looked taken aback, but he soon smiled broadly and they shared a moment of camaraderie that Bucky had missed for the past four years.  He had missed Steve almost every day since they had stopped talking.

“Okay, maybe I am a thief.”

“We both are, pal.”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded with a nostalgic look on his face.

 Bucky could relate, of course.  Unfortunately, the moment ended for now.  They both came back to themselves, and realized what a dicey situation they were in.  They could have gotten caught at any minute.

So they ended up parting ways with an awkward goodbye.  Bucky had gotten his phone back, and the following morning he had the good fortune of slipping it back undetected in Coulson’s desk.  And it looked like Steve was equally successful in his thievery.

They had gotten off without any harm done.  It also led to an opening for Bucky to talk to Steve again.  And while the past hadn’t been forgotten, Bucky finally got an answer to why - Steve had had a crush on him.  So much to Steve’s surprise, Bucky had had felt the same and come time for prom; well they ended up going together.

In the end, being a couple of thieves wasn’t so bad after all.

[andquitefrankly]

OMG! YOU'RE BLOG IS ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE! I LOVE IT! <333

YOU LOOKED AT IT!! 

THANK YOU!!! I SAW THE THEME AND HAD TO HAVE IT ( ˘ ³˘)♥

[the-agent-carter]

Someone has been leaving post it notes with hyper realistic dicks drawn on them around the school and as Student Council President I have to find out who it is -stucky please

Steve Rogers had finally hit his stride during his sophomore year in high school.  His sickly, waif-thin body had undergone an unexpected transformation that summer.  He had shot up nearly a foot, gained quite a bit of muscle mass, and it drew quite a bit of attention from his peers.

Three years later, Steve had a busy social life.  His school days were packed with AP classes, student council meetings, volunteer work, and football practice.  He had carved quite a nice niche out for himself, which led to him to being elected as student body president the previous year and homecoming king this year.

So in a way Steve felt responsible for the recent vandalism that had started to happen around the school.  Post-it notes of varying colors had cropped up on every surface within the school, and on them were horribly realistic pictures of penises on them.  Steve had taken his fair share of drawing classes with life-models, and he hadn’t even gotten the male anatomy down as much as the phantom dick drawer who was now terrorizing the school.

Early as that morning, his sometimes girlfriend Peggy Carter had found her locker covered in post-its with the obscene images on them.  Which, in a way, made it a little more personal to him than just his civic duty to the student body, especially when Peggy cornered him in the library and dragged him to the display.

“Calm down, Dick Tracy; hey did you see what I did there?  Dick Tracy,” Sam guffawed, before he quickly sobered up when Steve shot him a withering look. “They’re just post-it notes.  I’m sure Carter’s seen worse.”

“It’s the principle of the matter.” Steve argued as he observed the thinning crowd of students. “This kid can’t go around doing things like that.  Not to Peggy especially,”

It was the end of the day now, and Steve was hyper-focused on staying behind to see if he could catch the culprit red-handed.  The kid must have been putting up the post-its after school.

Sam visibly rolled his eyes, before he shut the door to his locker closed.  They didn’t have football practice today, and Sam had been dead-set on going home to play videogames.  Steve normally would have joined him after he finished with his other activities.  But today he was going to find the immature idiot who was making a spectacle of themselves for no good reason.

“I thought you and Carter decided to cool it down.  I mean you guys were acting like an old married couple.  You guys reminded me of my grandparents.”

“You should care about what’s going on.  You go to school here too.”

“I like school, but I’m not going to stress out over something so stupid.  It’s probably some asshole freshman, Steve.” Sam said, although he already seemed to realize the futility in trying to convince him to just go home. “I’m going to head out; I know you won’t, though.”

“Damn right,”

“Hard-head,”

“I’ll see you on Monday, Sam.” Steve waved his friend off, while he continued to observe the crowd.

Once the school had been mostly abandoned, he headed down the main hallway and wound his way from one corridor to the next.  He looked in classrooms and bathrooms, but everything was undisturbed now that it was nearing four o’clock in the afternoon.

Still, he didn’t give up on his search.  The kid had to be on the prowl; after all, the post-it notes had been showing up every day for nearly three weeks now.  So he highly doubted the perp would deviate from their shenanigans today.

Mounting the staircase to the second story, Steve jogged up the steps and peered around the corner.  Before he did much of anything beyond setting both feet on the landing, he heard a cheery whistle ring off the walls.

It could have very well been one of the custodians, but something told Steve otherwise.  He strained his ears and heard the whistling move further away from him, so he started forward on silent feet.  And sure enough, he noticed a figure clothed in all black with a red backpack perched over their shoulders.

The kid was crouched in between a wall and a row of lockers.  His shoulders were hunched in as he worked on something in front of him, before he slowly lifted a finger-less gloved hand and slapped a vibrant green post-it note onto the locker door.

Several more followed suit, and Steve now knew without any shadow of a doubt that this was the asshole who had been vandalizing the school; no less infuriated Peggy so badly on top of that too.

“So you were the one who left those sticky notes all over Peggy Carter’s locker.” Steve said in a stern tone.

Surprisingly, the kid didn’t even flinch.  He instead pivoted on his heel with a bored look, before he slapped a yellow post-it note with the realistic dick drawing on it onto the locker.

“Hey, Stevie; long time no speak.”

“Bucky,” Steve blinked and he felt his cheeks suddenly heat up.

Bucky Barnes looked different from his thirteen year old self.  Sure, Steve could recognize him anywhere but he certainly had grown up quite a bit.  He had a dusting of stubble on his chin and cheeks, and his once trim hair had grown out to frame his face that was no longer chubby with baby fat. 

Steve and Bucky had been childhood friends until Bucky had to move away when they were thirteen.  Also, Bucky had been Steve’s first kiss and rushed hand-job that had made Steve question his sexuality for the longest time.  He still hadn’t really figured it out yet, although he figured it leaned towards bisexual if anything.

“What in the hell are you doing here?” Steve asked, while feebly trying to push the thoughts of that weird night away from the forefront of his brain.

“Moved back this summer,” Bucky drawled and stood with his pen and post-it notes in hand. “Figured I’d try to liven the place up; I mean that Carter chick seems like a stick in the mud.  Some dick might actually lighten her up,”

“She was my girlfriend.” Steve bristled.

“Oh, I know.” 

“You’re acting like a damn kid.” Steve walked over and ripped the post-its from the locker; he then snatched the sticky pad from Bucky’s hands.

A flash of anger crossed Bucky’s face, although it soon smoothed over with that devil-may-care look of his.  He held up his hands as he took a step back from Steve, who could probably beat him to a pulp if he really wanted to.

“Sorry, pal.  I forgot you were the law around here now.” Bucky smirked. “Time sure does change a person,”

Steve watched Bucky backpedal away from him, and he had the urge to say or do something.  He didn’t know what, though.  He had missed Bucky so damn much after he moved.  He’d been alone again without him, and the kids at school had always been assholes to him.  Well, until he had grown into himself and met Sam who transferred from his old school district to this one.

But not only that, he might have been a little and hopelessly in love with Bucky.  He could almost feel those feelings resurface just from looking at him.  And yet, it felt like he caused an irreparable rift between the two of them with his outburst just now.

“Bucky,” he said, although that didn’t stop Bucky from turning away to head towards the staircase. “Bucky, hey,”

“I’ll cut it out, okay.  It was all fun and games anyway, Rogers.”

“Listen, I just…I’ve missed you.” Steve blurted out, which caused Bucky to freeze before he could take the first step down. “I…don’t be a stranger.”

“Aw, Stevie,” Bucky spun around. “You’re not really my cup of tea anymore.  All those school activities and being big man on campus and dating Carter, yikes!  Totally not my speed,”

“She was my girlfriend.  She isn’t my girlfriend now.”

“But you’re more than happy to play her knight in shining armor still.”

“Because I respect her,” Steve defended. “I’m single now.  Take that how you want,”

Another emotion flashed across Bucky’s face, but it was hard to tell what it was.  He didn’t say anything though, before he was turning away again and bounding down the stairs without looking back at Steve.  And that felt like a heavy rejection to him.

The thing was though, when Monday rolled around and Steve had thoroughly beaten himself up to hell and back over what happened between them; he had found a plain, white envelope in his locker with blocked lettering that said X-Rated For Your Eyes Only!!!, and inside there was a note with a Polaroid picture (who even used Polaroids nowadays?).

Hey, punk.  Here’s a picture of a dick for you too!!!  Maybe it’ll lighten you up some!!!! ;)

The picture had been of Bucky, who’d angled the camera above him like every selfie ever taken and a clear view of the aforementioned dick from the note.  Steve had nearly chocked on his own tongue, before stuffing the picture back into the envelope, and the envelope into his backpack.

He didn’t know what to do.  But he did end up tracking Bucky down after school, and shoving him into a bathroom stall where he kissed that frustrating little smirk right off his face.  And he’d do it over and over again for the unforeseeable future too.

[fancykraken]

Massive love, thank you's, more love, more squealing, more everything to @the-agent-carter and @incubigirl for this amazing Christmas gift. I still honestly don't know what I did to deserve this or friends like you. Thank you, so, so much. <3

[the-agent-carter]

I’m sick and I missed our friend’s holiday party, but you really didn’t need to bring me rum cake…I don’t think I can even eat that on this medicine…and did I just confess my love to you? That’s definitely the NyQuil talking… -winterfrost please

Bucky had been dozing on and off all day.  It was Christmas afternoon, and he had been confined to his bed for the last two days now with something nasty.  It wasn’t entirely unexpected though; he worked as second grade teacher, and the kids usually were carrying some kind of ailment all year round.

Despite taking all obvious precautions, Bucky still had been taken off his feet.  Even with being highly medicated on cough syrup and popping cold pills, the sickness stayed inside of him in the form of a rattling cough, body aches, and a runny nose.

He had hoped by the time Christmas Eve had rolled around that he would be well enough to attend Steve and Peggy’s annual party.  But even the task of getting out of bed had become a painful chore, which meant venturing outside of his apartment was out of the question.

So while his friends celebrated in style, Bucky had been watching Rankin/Bass specials when he wasn’t napping and coughing up his lungs.  And he was still curled up into the cocoon of his bed while Santa Claus is Coming to Town played on his flat-screen that was mounted on the opposite wall.

Sniffling, Bucky tried to focus on the story.  He had seen the special probably a hundred times by now, but for the life of him he didn’t know how Kris Kringle had befriended a penguin that honked obnoxiously and made his temples throb again because of it.

He moaned out a curse, but he didn’t even try to find the remote.  He hadn’t seen it all day, and he probably wouldn’t find it until it was wedged between the mattress and his lower back later on.  So he dealt with the honking penguin, and the rest of the white noise that made his head feel like it was in a vice.

That’s when an abrupt noise, far more present than the ones coming from the TV, roused him from his drowsy state.  Bucky lifted his head up, and strained his ears until he put two and two together - someone had come to see him.  Or if they had not then they were here to rob him of all his worldly possessions.

“Are you still alive?” Someone called out, before they peered around the door frame with a wicked smile. “So you are after all.”

“Hey, Loki,” Bucky managed to get out without hacking.

“Merry Christmas, James.” Loki, Bucky’s second best friend next to Steve, walked into his bedroom.  He had a white pastry box in one hand, and what appeared to be a bottle of champagne in the other.

Bucky slowly got into a seated position, although his head despised him for it.  He propped himself awkwardly against the headboard, and he watched as Loki set his offerings on one of the bedside tables.

“You’ve missed quite the party last night.”

“Hm,”

“I do believe Romanoff and Wilson might have become far more acquainted with one another.  But then again I was positively bombed by the end of the evening.”

“Glad everyone had a great time without me.” Bucky pouted, before he raked his fingers through his hair; he imagined it was a disaster.

Loki snorted in amusement or sarcasm, Bucky wasn’t certain.  But he ended up climbing onto the bed with him, careless to the fact that he was jarring him in all the wrong ways.

Hopefully his medication would kick in soon.  Bucky had downed a cup of NyQuil about ten minutes ago.  Or maybe it was closer to an hour; he really couldn’t be positive on times at the moment.

“Everyone missed you.  I missed you especially.”

“Steve missed me more than you.”

“How dare you.” Loki gasped in feigned offense. “I don’t see Steve anywhere in the vicinity.  He didn’t bring you some rum cake or a bottle of champagne.  He also isn’t here to nurse you back to health.  That, Mr. Barnes, would be me - proof positive that I am the one who missed you the most!”

Bucky chuckled, even though it made him cough a few times.  He was glad that it didn’t turn into a huge attack; his body really couldn’t be put through another one when all his muscles were aching already.

“God, I love you.” He blurted out as if that sort of thing was natural.

The truth of the matter though was that it was not natural.  Despite knowing Loki for almost four years now, he hadn’t ever said something sentimental like that to him.  Not to mention, he had been harboring a bit of a crush on him for the past year or so.

Bucky didn’t necessarily catch his faux pas until Loki tensed up beside him.  He blinked drowsily, before his mind started to function normally again.  And when the information finally clicked, he found himself turning bright red in embarrassment.

“I didn’t mean to say that!” He nearly yelled, which didn’t do him any favors.

A rumbling cough built up in his chest, and he was soon doubling over himself and coughing hard enough to rattle his whole body and to cause tears to spring up in his eyes.  It was painful and agonizing and he felt humiliated by this display of weakness.

Without missing a beat, Loki had started to pat and rub his back.  Bucky had suspected he would have jumped off the bed in his haste to stay from him his disease addled coughing fit instead of helping him through it.

“There, there,” Loki comforted him once it finally passed. “I’ll get you some water.”

“Y-You can leave if you want.  I know I freaked you out.”

“James, I’m not abandoning you now.” Loki suddenly ran his hand through the sweaty fringe that flopped against Bucky’s forehead. “You’re delirious.”

Bucky didn’t contest that statement; he felt delirious, and he was in a lot of pain.  And he swore he must have gone off the deep-end because without preamble he felt a pair of cool lips pressed against his forehead.

What happened next was a mystery to him.  All that Bucky knew for certain was that he woke up next, curled up protectively against Loki’s side with his hand in his hair.  And neither of them mentioned it for months after the fact until Loki slipped and said he loved him too.

[the-agent-carter]

This guy just moved in next door and my entire family thinks he’s a secret, wealthy billionaire, and now he’s throwing this weird dance? Seriously? I already hate him, so I’m just going to hide in this room and – oh, I’m sorry, this is your house? -winterfrost please

Bucky had been away for months.  He was in his third year of university, and he had elected to return home for the holidays at long last.  But what he hadn’t expected was the excitable gossip that passed in between his parents and his kid sister.

They had a new implant in the neighborhood.  Someone had finally bought the O’Malley’s old place next door, and the mysterious man was now the talk of the town.  Hell, he was the talk of every family dinner since Bucky had come home four days ago.

All anyone wanted to speculate on was their new neighbor, and how he seemed to ooze of wealth and prosperity.  The ante was only raised even higher when the Barneses were invited to some kind home warming slash dance party.

Bucky had downright refused to go.  He had better things to do than to attend some stranger’s party.  He had plenty of TV to catch up on, loads of books to read, and lots of sleep to have.  But he wasn’t given a choice, and that’s why he was in pressed black slacks, a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a black waistcoat to finish the ensemble.

His mother had dressed him like he was five years old, as if he’d choose a coffee stained sweater and ratty pajama pants to leave the house in.  It infuriated him, and he was currently treating everyone in his family with the silent treatment as he stood smack-dab in the huge parlor room amid his entire neighborhood.

Unbeknownst to him even, a drink had been placed in his hand and Bucky stood there dumbly as the conversation swirled wildly around him.  He was already starting to develop a headache, and if he could get away with it - he would be heading for the door and the safe haven of his bedroom.

Knowing that would only incite his mother’s anger, Bucky elected to stay but not in the middle of the action anymore.  He made a beeline for the double doors and he found himself in the grand foyer which held a spiral stairwell that led upstairs.

Without a second thought, Bucky dashed up the stairs and away from the smooth sound of jazz music wafting from the sound system.  He needed some place to hide for a few minutes to gather his bearings.  Or maybe he’d stay up there until the party wound down to a screeching halt.

Once on the second story landing, Bucky looked either way before he chose to turn left towards a number of doors on either side of the walls.  A Persian rug ran the length of the hallway over dark wood floors, and several expensive paintings brought pops of color into the poorly lit space.

He walked down the hallway, and pushed the first door in to peer inside.  It was three piece bathroom.  The door across the way was a office and possibly a study by the sheer number of books on hand in there.

Neither room appealed to Bucky in terms of a hideout, though.  He bypassed another room, and headed towards the door at the very end of the hallway.  The door was already slightly ajar, so when he touched it, it swung open and revealed a large bedroom with a four post bed.

Stepping inside, Bucky surveyed the bedroom.  It was grand with a fireplace in front of the four poster with a cracking fire in the hearth.  The wall behind the bed was wallpapered with a damask design in gold and emerald, and there were several large black and white photos of an English village and the sea on the other walls.

That’s when he noticed an arm chair with a high back in the corner and someone occupying it.  He almost leapt out of his own skin, as the other occupant of the room glanced up from his mobile phone.  He blinked a few times before he smiled a little.

“Hiding away from the party too?”

“It’s kind of suffocating.” Bucky admitted. “Do you mind if, uh, I hang out in here.”

“Be my guest,” the pale-skinned man motioned towards the bed.

Bucky thanked the man, before he shut the door behind him, and hopped onto the bed with his drink still in hand.  He took a cautionary sip from it, and flinched a little from its potency.

“I haven’t seen you around the neighborhood before.” The man glanced at him curiously. “And I’ve been around for a while.”

“Oh, I was away at school.  I’m Winnie and Henry Barnes’s son; they live next door in that blue cape cod.”

“I know the one.” The man nodded. “So you decided to come this home warming party instead of hanging out with your friends?”

Bucky snorted softly, as he took another sip from his glass.  Whoever mixed his drink had been very generous with the alcohol; he’d probably have a bit of a buzz by the time he hit the bottom of the glass.

“Trust me, I rather be in bed right now and watching TV.  But my parents insisted I come; they wanted me to meet the new neighbor.  All they do is talk about Mr. Odinson and how he must be a secret billionaire, and how dark and mysterious he is.”

The other man leaned forward in his seat; he was clearly interested and intrigued by what Bucky had to say.  And knowing that compelled Bucky to continue since he hadn’t had a rapt audience to vocalize his complaints for a while now.

“I hate the guy, and I haven’t even met him yet.” Bucky slurped down a third of his drink then, and felt a little dizzy from the powerful taste.

“Your family certainly seems overly involved with him.”

“Tell me about it.”

“You know what I think?” The man asked, although he didn’t give Bucky a chance to respond. “I think small towns breed boredom, and any new person who makes their appearance is subject to gossip and curiosity.”

That was true.  Bucky remembered how frequently his mom used to chit-chat with the women in the neighborhood over one apparent scandal after the next.  In retrospect, the scandals weren’t very scandalous at all; it was just something to discuss to kill the boredom.

Mr. Odinson was probably on the same vein as the petty shit his mom conversed about over tea and cookies.  And now that he was hit by that realization, he really didn’t know why it bothered him so much.

“I guess you have a point.” Bucky glanced over at the man in the armchair. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Loki,” the man pushed himself into a standing position. “Loki Odinson,”

It took a moment for Bucky to absorb that information, and when he finally did he felt like he was sucker punched right in the face.  Of course, he was in the master suite and it was only logical to believe that the man who slept in such a grandiose room would be in there as opposed to a complete stranger.

“Oh shit,”

“There isn’t any reason to be embarrassed, honestly.” Loki Odinson pocketed his phone. “But I’d like to know your name?”

“James,” Bucky replied weakly.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, James.  You are more than welcome to stay here until your family decides to leave.  But as the host, I have to make an appearance so you’ll have to excuse me.”

With an almost sinister smirk, Loki Odinson left the room and left Bucky behind to reflect on what he had said during their short acquaintanceship.  Bucky had been a top tier idiot, and all he could do was set his glass on the ornate bedside table, and drop back onto the mattress with a groan.

Closing his eyes, Bucky tried to think of how he could fix the situation.  He needed to apologize, but firstly he needed to clear his head.  That drink had been powerful, and well maybe he was a bit of a light-weight when it came to alcohol consumption.  So before he did track down Loki Odinson and apologize, he needed to rest his eyes for a minute and regain some kind of brain power on top of that too.

The thing with Bucky was that things never really went as planned.  He didn’t just take a breather for twenty minutes or so, in fact he didn’t get up for hours and he only came to when a hand shook him awake.  He had fallen asleep in a stranger’s bed, a dark and handsome one’s on top of that.

Honestly, the semantics weren’t exactly important but Bucky ended up spending the night instead of fleeing with his tail between his legs.  He also found himself fucked right into the mattress, and coming to a growl in his ear that Loki was not a billionaire but a millionaire instead.  Part of the mystery solved.

[the-agent-carter]

This store is about to close and you’re the only employee here, please help me find presents for my nieces and nephews AU (winterfrost please)

Ronan and Ruby Odinson were the only nephew and niece Loki had.  They were seven years old, and they were natural disasters masked underneath cherub-like faces.  Ronan was the eldest by six minutes, which he had a tendency to gloat over his sister with and that led to a lot of arguments and tears; most of which Loki had the misfortune of witnessing.

Regardless of the twins’s powerful and overbearing presence in his life, Loki had somehow unwittingly forgotten to buy them a Christmas gift.  And this revelation had only come to the forefront of his mind the day before Christmas Eve, no less at five-thirty in the afternoon.

One minute he’d been pouring himself a glass of chardonnay in his gourmet kitchen, and the next he had nearly dropped the bottle when he remembered the twins in all their obnoxious glory.  He could even admit, although reluctantly, that he panicked for a split-second; before he set the bottle down onto the marble island, grabbed his coat, wallet, phone, and keys and rushed into the busy foot traffic outside his high-rise apartment.

After being turned around several times, Loki located the nearest toy store and had been poring over each aisle without any clue on what to buy his niece and nephew.  He didn’t know them that well, and when he was in their presence; he usually made a beeline for the exit.  He also had a knack for throwing his teenage brother Baldur into the jaws of the beast, in order to make his escape feasible.

Reaching out, Loki plucked a big-headed and stick thin bodied doll from the shelf.  He stared at it, as if it would somehow jog his memory about Ruby’s interests.  But he was grasping at straws; he couldn’t remember if she liked dolls and ones with abnormally big craniums either.

He put the doll back with a huff.  Maybe he should just give the brats some money so they could buy their own presents.  Then again, he knew he’d probably be scolded by his mother for not putting any thought behind his offering.  Because children, after all, enjoyed opening gifts; that was half the fun.  Or so that’s what he was certain what his mother would say, and he knew her pretty well unlike those kids.

“Excuse me, sir,” someone said to his left, and broke Loki out of his self-loathing reverie.

He glanced up to see a young man in black jeans, converse sneakers, a black button-down with a name tag pinned at the pocket.  He looked in need of a haircut, although he had a handsome face despite probably being at least ten years younger than Loki.

“We’re going to be closing in the next fifteen minutes.” The young man said, which caused a well of panic to bubble over in Loki abruptly again.

That was not good news.  In fact, it was downright horrible news.  He hadn’t gotten any closer to finding the right present for either twin, and he wouldn’t have the opportunity to pick up anything tomorrow either.  He was leaving first thing in the morning for Connecticut!

Whipping around fully, Loki looked at the employee with wide eyes.  He knew he must have looked half-mad because the young man took a step back, and raised his hands as if to defend himself from a possible attack.

“Listen, pal-”

“I am in desperate need of help.  I’d completely forgotten to buy the hell spawns, my nephew and niece, a Christmas gift.  And I have absolutely no idea what I can get them.  Please tell me you have a vague idea on what two seven year olds would like.” Loki was on the verge of begging.

The employee blinked, before he dropped his hands.  He looked to be thinking, maybe about how crazy Loki was and the question posed to him as well.  It really didn’t matter which.  What did matter though was that the employee, started up the aisle before he grabbed a box off the shelf, and held it out to Loki.

“These things are popular with little girls.  They’re called Monster High Dolls.”

“I’ll take it.  Give me four more of them.” Loki took the box, although he didn’t bother to look at it.

The employee obliged and took down four more boxes, but he checked to make sure he didn’t have the same ones.  He then stacked them into Loki’s awaiting arms, before they headed out of the aisle and towards another.

After some searching, the young man grabbed two Lego play-sets off the shelf and asked Loki if that was what he deemed an appropriate gift for his nephew.  Loki assumed it would be, and said he’d take them too.

Soon Loki was at the cashier register with his selection spread across the counter.  The young man, whose name tag read James, started to ring up each item with the bored efficiency of a man who’d been doing this for probably far too long even for his own liking.

“Thank you for all your help.” Loki breathed out in relief, while he pulled out his wallet from his inner coat pocket. “You don’t have any idea how fucked I would have been if I gave those little demons cash instead of an actual gift.”

“Glad my sister’s still a teenager,” James smiled a little as he scanned the last toy. “That’ll be one-hundred and ninety three dollars and fifty-seven cents.”

“Are you sure you aren’t a teenager too?” Loki took out his credit card, before he swiped it himself on the scanner attached to the counter;  and tapped away at the questions on the screen.

“I’m twenty-five!” 

“Glad to know you’re legal,”

“Whatever,” James snorted as he hit a button on the cash register, and printed out Loki’s receipt.

“Now the real question is,” Loki pocketed his card and wallet, before schooling his features into absolute serenity. “If you have proclivity for men or women, maybe both…?”

James let out a bark of laughter, as he tore the receipt from the register and held it out to Loki.  He looked disbelieving of Loki’s audacity, but he didn’t look offended by it either.

“How old are you, Mr. Gucci Suit?”

“Thirty-three years young, and it’s not Gucci it’s Dolce & Gabbana.”

“Oh, my apologies.  Mr. Dolce & Gabbana,”

“You still haven’t answered my question, James.” Loki’s eyes shot down to read the name tag, as he took the receipt from James’s awaiting hand, and tucked it into one of his other pockets.

James smiled a little flirtatiously then, which was practically sinful.  Loki soon noticed the way James’s eyes smoldered, and how sultry they probably were when he was placed in a compromising position.  God, how had he not noticed he oozed of sex appeal until now?

“I’m an equal opportunist, Mr. Dolce & Gabbana.”

“Mr. Odinson, Loki Odinson,” 

“Mr. Odinson,” James corrected himself with a smirk.

“The store’s closing like you said.  So why don’t I wait for you, and you can come over to my apartment and have a drink with me.  I was about to have a nice chardonnay.”

“Make it beer and none of that fancy rich person stuff, and I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“I’m sure we can find cheap beer for you somewhere.” Loki’s gazed dropped to James’s lips, and felt a stir of heat in the pit of his stomach. 

“Snob,” James chuckled. “I’m be right back.”

With that, James headed for the front doors and locked them; before he went about the rest of his chores to close up the store.  Loki waited patiently for him with a growing desire to see what James had underneath all those layers of clothing.  And he was fortunate enough to see everything James had to offer by the night’s end.