“See, I don’t think you really get it. Someone broke into my house and stole from me, you know how many people have ever stolen from me?” James snapped his head to the side, regarding the man next to him with a raised eyebrow and a firm set of his mouth. 

“No sir,” the man answered, feigning his calmness. 

“Zero,” James spat back. He turned his head forward again. “Whoever it is, find them, and bring them to me. Unharmed. I would like to have a talk with whatever thief thought they could steal from me.”

“You gonna put them down, boss?”

James huffed, lips curling up at the edges. “No, I’m going to make sure the only one they’ll ever be working for is me.” He gave a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s not anyone who can steal from me and get away with it. Someone with skills like that should belong to the right hands. Mine.” 

|X|

Or: Being the boss of one of the largest crime families of the United States meant James has the best of everything, which made it twice as infuriating to find out someone had gotten past all his security and stole from him. He was going to find out who it was, and get them to work for him instead. 

Especially when the thief turned out to be everything he had imagined and more. 

Steve Rogers didn’t like stealing, but he really needed the blueprints. He thought about returning them, but it seemed the security had been doubled, and a whole lotta men in black suits and unmarked SUV’s were looking for him. It was not easy being a vigilante in New York City, not with all the crime families roaming around, he had to watch his steps even more carefully now.

Really, all it took was one daydream. 

One moment of unorganized thoughts, and the next thing he knew he was tossed into the back of a van, and brought towards unknown places. 

When the man passed by, it was as if the world held its breath. Even the wind seemed to slacken for a moment, as if unwilling to blow without the man’s permission, only giving a breeze just strong enough to thread through the man’s curling hair as he strode along confidently, though prowling may have been the more fitting term. 

Bucky knew not a single man one who had mastered a walk like that, nothing rushed about him, yet everything heated. He was as calm and collected, like returning home after a long day, but with the intensity of strolling towards a potential victim.

“You better stay away from him.”

“Hm?” Bucky raised his head, turning it to look at the man sitting next to him. Dum Dum was chewing slowly on his piece of bread, eyes locked on the tank of a man ploughing across the field. “What’s that?”

“Him,” Dum Dum said, nodding his head in the guy’s direction, “That’s the Captain. You don’t want to be pissing him off. I heard the last one who pissed him off was never found again. He’s close with that team of his; all spies and assassins.” Dum Dum chuckled lowly, shaking his head. “What I’d do to get a peek, even a short one.”

Curiously for more, Bucky turned his head back, just in time to watch the man enter the base without a single falter in his steps. He had heard of the Captain; who here hadn’t? The one man army. The guy they send into the most dangerous war zones and who walked out without a scratch. The guy who could take over the world in a few days and no one would ever see him coming. 

The man who, according to legend, had fought gruesome battles in World War 2 and was over ninety years old. 

Bucky never knew he was this handsome, though.

|X|

Or: It’s the year of 2014, and Bucky joined the fight to push back the abominable force of HYDRA that had resurfaced again after seventy years of slumber. He made some friends at the base he stayed at, had a successful mission or two, but then he saw it. 

Or more accurately, he saw him. 

The soldier who was only spoken about in hushed voices of awe. The soldier who never lost a fight. The soldier who had more legends surrounding him than there were soldiers in this camp. The soldier who looked like sex on legs but could hurl a damn motorcycle through the air to stop an approaching enemy vehicle.

And Bucky had just been assigned to his team of scouts. 

The thing was, he had expected a rough commander barking orders and taking no shit. Instead, he was met with a surprisingly kind and friendly man, who kept blushing whenever his friend suggested he’d go on a date. 

Huh. Interesting. 

“I know you’re staring at me.”

Bucky quirked an eyebrow, trying not to feel called out by the grossly handsome stranger at the gym. He shrugged. “What’you mean? I’m not staring at anyone.”

“Yeah right.” With a scoff, the guy shrugged on his vest, then turned around to face Bucky. He leaned his hip against the lockers, showing off the curve of his waist and a stretched out leg longer than Bucky’s future. “Is there anything particular you’d like to tell me, or do you just want to continue checking out my ass?”

“Like what?” Bucky asked, leaning forward on the bench, showing himself to be only half-interested instead of fully, like he actually was. “What would a guy like me ask a guy like you?”

“Whatever you’d like.”

A grin tugged up Bucky’s lips. 

|X|

Or: Steve and Bucky both go to the same gym, and well, when you’re trying to do some lifting while the guy next to you looks like a real life Adonis punching the shit out of a punching bag, muscles straining and a perfectly-toned body working itself to sweat, there’s rightfully not that much lifting done in the end. 

When in the lockers, Steve finds the courage to ask the other guy about the staring, and Bucky finds the courage to do something about his interest. 

The Merfolk were nothing more than a legend. 

A myth from the depths of the sea that had once resurfaced long ago, but no stories were ever proven. It was one of the main reasons Captain James felt desperate as he looked at the map with his hands tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, staring himself blind on the words and lines that never changed. 

He prayed it not to be true, he prayed for it to be mistranslated, lost somewhere in the shifting and changing letters and phrases. His only hope to cure his mother as she lay weak in her bed at home, his father asking deity after deity if they could help them. James had searched his luck elsewhere, hoping to find a miracle cure, but it seemed to be for naught. 

A Mer’s tear. 

Where in all of the seven seas was he ever going to find a Mer mad enough to spill a tear for him? 

~

For so long, Steve had thought humans had gone extinct. 

He had heard many tales about them, but never had he actually seen one. Granted, he lived in the far depths where few creatures could venture, and for those who did not possess a tail quite as strong as his, he could imagine they did not dare to swim into the current-filled maze of caves. 

However, when he finally did cross the border he had lived along for so long, he discovered new things he could never have dreamed of. He swam great lengths, twisting and twirling through the endless open waters, until a shadow befell him. When he tilted his head to the surface, he saw the outlines of a large object, so large that it could surely store a lot of creatures. 

Curiosity strong, he swam up to the surface, strong tail beating as the blue scales reflected the rays of sunlight like a thousand pearls. He broke the ocean’s surface, taking deep lungfulls of breath, and he looked upon the strange colossus.

And just like that, for the first time in his life, he saw a human. 

A handsome man, his upper body exactly like that of Steve but only with fabrics covering his chest, was leaning on the edge of the wooden structure, gazing at the horizon, deep in thought. Beneath his hips, he had no tail, but rather two stakes of flesh he moved on. Much like the paws of an animal, only two instead of four. 

Steve did not think he had ever seen such intriguing thing before. 

|X|

Or: James is a Captain desperately looking for the cure to his mother’s illness, growing more desperate when finding out it was a Mer’s tear. Mermaids were not real, no one had ever seen one before, and so James thought it to be hopeless. 

That was, until a young man rose from the depths of the ocean, a tail so hauntingly beautiful it could only have been created by the hands of a god, and James was set to have the Mer help him. 

Steve is a merman who had never seen a human before. Being one of the last of his own kind, he did not know who they were or what they were like. Until he found a ship, and the human on board was nothing if not intriguing. 

Upon the song of the Nymph, as he sung oh so purely, the creatures of the forest gathered in the patches of sunlight along the babbling brook to listen with silent wonder. 

And so did the horse, a king’s stallion proud and tall, galloping through bushes and thicket to venture towards what it could be to make such beautiful sounds. It slowed to a halt at the water’s side, dipping its shiny hooves into the water to nicker a greeting at the man dabbling his feet into the cool liquid. The horse shook its manes, arching its neck to press its trembling nostrils against the golden strands of hair. 

“You are sweet,” the nymph spoke, reaching out a hand and running the fingers beneath the horse’s chin, “Where may your rider be?”

As if on cue, the panting broke through the melody of the forest, branches snapping beneath boots and leaves pushed away. A man appeared from the thicket, turning his handsome face left and right and left again. Soon, the eyes, their color like ice through all the green, settling upon the young man by the water. 

“Heavens,” the man whispered, as soon as their eyes did cross. He stepped forward, one hand out as if reaching for something he was not quite sure was there. 

Steve tilted his head to the side a little, regarding the other with curiosity. He did not get many humans in this forest, especially not this far in. It was not he feared those from the kingdom, he merely often found them to be obnoxious and rude. This man, in his traveler’s clothing and his strong stallion, was a man of status, as much was clear. 

Perhaps one of royalty, but he could not be sure. 

-^-

Though he was still not certain what exactly James was (’King’ was not a term or role he had ever known himself, living in the forest mostly on his own), he did figured out soon that laying himself into the water-filled tub with his clothes still on was a thing considered strange by the humans of the castle. 

Not to mention the apparently ‘wrong’ way he handled most of the utensils and objects that lay scattered around on shelves and in cupboards, some of which he was not supposed to touch, but who even kept track?

In his defense, a fork did look like it would function perfectly as a hairbrush. 

|X|

Or: James is a King who decided to venture deeper into the forest. At one point, his horse acts oddly, and runs off. James sets the chase, only to stumble upon what must be the fairest creature he has ever laid eyes upon. The poor thing is covered in dirt, looking as if he had wandered through the forest for far too long, and James does not hesitate a moment to take the young man back to the castle to have him cleaned and cared for. 

Steve is a forest nymph singing quietly to himself until a knight’s stallion interrupts him. A man soon follows, one who worries too much about the healthy layer of dirt on his clothes, and the fact Steve lives in the forest. Intrigued by the stranger, Steve comes with him to the castle, and he is amazed by the new world of customs and objects awaiting him. 

He was getting reoccurring nightmares. 

Not the nightmares that showed haunted hallways, flashes of blood and death, or being late somewhere on an important day. You know, the kind you would expect when Halloween was nearing.

No, he had his usual dreams, mind filled with strange combinations of things he had seen before. An old neighbor here, a strange forest there, many images played too fast for him to follow as he tried to run away with his feet stuck in quicksand.

Only ever since a week ago, there was something else. 

It was something that could have jumped straight from his nightmares. A dark figure, nothing more than a silhouette, and it seemed to appear in all his dreams, never doing anything. It just stood there, and watched.

Even when he woke up, he would still see the figure. With his eyes gazing out into the dark of his bedroom, he would see the shadow of a figure, even more black than the darkness around it, move towards the window before it slipped through the cracks out into the night. 

And then there was this new colleague of his at work, a man not quite like everyone else, and it was almost scary how much interest he showed in Steve, for seemingly no reason at all. 

It would be best to stay out of the man’s way.

-^-

Bucky hated working, but this time it was for a good cause. Hell was organizing a party, breaking open the gates for Halloween, so that all creatures could have their fun. The thing was, most demons took a date to the Unholy Feast, preferably something they could brag about.

A week ago, when Rumlow had been boasting about his own date for far too long, Bucky had accidentally snapped back he was going to get a date no one else had ever had before; a huge mistake. Now, everyone was waiting to see what he would bring. Most of the usual options were out of the question; no werewolf, vampire, ghoul, witch or ghost would cut it this time, they would laugh in his face and never let him live it down. 

Then, like a literal gift from the heavens, Bucky crossed paths with a creature he knew would grant him prosperity, respect and admiration for years to come. After all, no demon in thousands of years had ever taken an angel to the Unholy Feast before. 

There were some problems to it, of course. His vampire date of last year had been more than up for a party of Hell, but he figured an angel would surely throw a fit. 

It would be a lot of work, but Bucky was going to have this date, whether the angel wanted it or not. 

|X|

Or: Steve is just trying to live his life, pushing through the strange dreams and even stranger coworkers. He did not expect being attacked in his own home, kidnapped somewhere far away, and put into ridiculously expensive robes, only to sit at a table with people in costumes that looked far too real to be fake.

Bucky is a demon looking for a special date to bring to the Halloween fest, and what’s more special than an angel? Snatching the guy from his house proved quite the task, but having the most gorgeous creature sit next to him at the Unholy Feast, receiving jealous stares from all the others, makes it more than worth it.

“I know you’re not really here.”

The silence that dawned in the room was thick with tension and sadness. Bucky stood by the window, following the lines in the white wood that formed the frame with his eyes, trying to not think about anything. 

He drew in a soft breath, tearing his eyes away from the steady fall of droplets hitting the glass, ticking in a melodic rhythm as it did in his ears. “Why would you say that?”

With the vague shrug of his shoulders, Steve curled further into himself on the bed. It was set in the corner, so Steve was pressed against the angle where the two walls met, hugging a pillow to his chest as he blinked and moved his head sluggishly, falling asleep but never quite, and he jerked up once in a while as he shook himself awake. “’s what the doctors say.”

“They don’t know shit,” Bucky said, not moving from his spot though he wanted to so badly. “They’re just puttin’ pills in you because they don’t understand. You gotta stop it. You don’t have to do that.”

A shake of a head, Steve curled further into himself. “You’re not really here.”

 Bucky swallowed, his fingers clenching on the window frame as he thought about breaking it to pieces. They did this to him. Those stupid humans with their pills and their needles. “I’ll fix this, Steve. I promise.”

“You can’t promise me anything. You’re not really here.”

|X|

Or: Steve sees a man no one else can see. A man whose eyes glow when he gets riled up, and a man who can make things float with his mind. He must be crazy. He must be insane. The doctors say that too. They say he is confused, and sees things he should not. 

Around a year ago, Bucky had wondered into the wrong house, and, by accident, got so horribly attached to the occupant who beamed like the sun. At first he was just curious, now he feels nothing but guilty, as he has to watch the innocent soul break down piece by piece. 

Demon’s promise, he’s gonna fix it. 

There were few things that truly irked Bucky. 

On top of that short list were human sacrifices. 

He had seen it all before, heard it all before. With an appearance quite as daunting as his something such as this was to be expected, but he still hated it. He hated to see the fear in their eyes, whether they be brimming with tears or long gone. He could not stand it. 

Sometimes, they were tied up to trees in the deep forest, blood of animals smeared around as to attract him, but all it ever attracted, did Bucky not get there in time, were vicious boars and other forest predators. He never once took any of what the villagers left him, freeing the pour souls betrayed by fear of the masses instead, helping them escape. 

Today, sadly, it was that time again. 

It was a young man this time, dressed in the traditional white robes that got torn and grabbed by the long, skeleton fingers of all branches and bushes he tried to fight his way through. His feet were bare, kissing the earth in light, quick steps as the pace lay high. He was smart, this one. Strong too. He had knocked down the villagers when they busied themselves with rope, and then fled into the woods. 

He was not chased, though. The villagers only came back up, shrugged, and walked away, back to their town. They assumed the Create of the Forest would take the sacrifice either way. 

Bucky only noticed him when he heard a crack of branches, and heavy, hoarse breathing from miles run. He smelled blood, almost right away, and his brows furrowed in question. He was up in a tree, and he tilted his head down to look at the young man stumbling around the rocks, trying to hold himself up as he swayed all directions in his fatigue.

A scoff escaped his lips, and he shook his head as he readied himself to come down from the tree. More than anything, he wanted to burn down the houses of those who dared to turn on their own like this, but he knew it would only make everything worse. Anyway, there were more pressing matters at hand. 

Somehow, he would have to convince the poor, terrified thing he wasn’t a threat, and everything would be alright. 

|X|

Or: Bucky is a Dragon who is about fed up with villagers sending him human sacrifices every time he settles down somewhere. He cares for the ones who are still alive, and then sends them on their merry way. 

When the young blond collapsed into his arms from pain and exhaustion, he assumed it would be just like any other time. 

Well, Steve proved otherwise.

Title: A Pirate's Life For Me

Creator: Flower_Flame_Princess

Card Number: 038

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25589314

Square Filled: C5 - Pirates AU

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Major Tags: pirate captain Bucky, bounty hunter Steve, pirates, possessive behavior, kidnapping.

Summary: Steve thought it to be surprisingly easy to capture the infamous pirate Captain James Barnes.

Turns out, it wasn't actually that easy.

Word Count: 1453

Tagging: @stuckybingo2020

“And?” Steve asked, holding up the newly-painted shield proudly, “What do you think?”

Bucky’s gaze swept up and down Steve’s appearance, an appreciative smile coming to his face, though it was not the shield that caused it. It was Steve himself. 

It was difficult to ignore, but Steve was changing. Granted, Bucky had as well. He had changed a lot in the past years, but Steve was visible changing before his eyes and it seemed as though he could do nothing about it. Steve was smiling less, joking around less, sassing less. Steve was floating further and further away from Steve Rogers, and becoming more and more Captain America. 

Even though it was the shield he was holding, the Captain’s shield, Steve seemed more Steve than he had in a long while. It was the showing off, Steve supposed, waiting for Bucky’s praise and doting as he held up his just-finished work. 

“It looks amazing, doll,” Bucky said, feeling a sting in his heart at how Steve’s whole face seemed to light up. 

This was how he was supposed to look; an enthusiastic, eager puppy, not the serious, thousand-yard-staring soldier Bucky saw more and more often. He missed this Steve. 

And he prayed to God he would never lose him again. 

“You look miserable.”

Steve looked up, eyebrow raised already at the man who dare to speak to him while he’s wallowing in self-pity, trying to drown himself in beer he knew wouldn’t get him even tipsy before he would die of too much liquid in his body.

He shrugged, vaguely. “That obvious?”

The guy smiled, sliding into the bar stool next to him, lifting a hand as to order a drink, then he turned back to Steve. “Handsome guy like you all alone? Something’s up. You wanna talk about it?” A smirk tugged at the corners of the man’s mouth. “Easier talkin’ to strangers.”

Steve thought for a moment, looking the guy up and down. Then he shrugged again, taking a sip of his own beer. “Why not? You’re cute enough.”

“Bucky,” the man said, grinning even wider at Steve’s last comment. 

“Steve,” Steve answered, “Nice to meet you.”

It could be dangerous, he’s been warned about picking up strangers from bars. Whatever, maybe he’ll get something nice out of it. Like the guy’s number.

Or... something else.

=|x|=

No one ever told me how hard it is to make gifs, crop them, edit them, and then clip them together!! Good GOD, I spend too long on these gifs.

“Just admit it, Steve,” Natasha said, popping a piece of popcorn perfectly in her mouth, “You can’t tell ghost stories for shit.”

“Not true!” Bucky exclaimed, before Steve could get his two cents in, “Steve’s got this really good one, about a house- tell him Steve! The one about the haunted house!” Bucky leaned over to Wanda, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, “That one’s never failed to get a rise outta me.”

Wanda grinned widely, grabbing her pillow to hug to her stomach as she leaned back against the couch. Everyone was watching Steve now, expectantly. 

“Ugh, fine!” Steve said, throwing up his hands in defeat. He reached forward, snatching the flashlight off from Natasha’s legs. He turned it on, then shone it at his face, aiming wrongly and blinding himself for a few seconds. Wanda snorted. Natasha grinned. 

“Alright,” Steve said then, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “This is not merely a children’s take, this is based on a true story. My story.”

Wanda’s giggling died down, and Natasha leaned forward in interest.

“You see, one of the friends of my ma once bought a new house, and he invited us to look around. Nothing much, and my ma agreed, as we had a day off. When we arrived there, I soon noticed strange things happened when we were not looking. I asked the owner, and he told me that the house had been build on old stones.”

The other three were silent now, even Bucky, who had heard the story many times before and knew it by heart. Mostly because it was not a very long story.

“He told me every previous owner had sold the house,” Steve continued, his voice low and hushed, but still audible, Natasha frowned a little at his choice of words, but glossed over it. “Whenever they would relocate a piece of furniture, it moved. Voices came from the radio, sometimes they were even singing. And then, when he moved his hands between a lamp and the wall, creepy shadows appeared!”

He said it with such earnest that Wanda had no idea whether to burst out into laughter or to listen with bated breath...

...but then Steve wiggled his fingers while pulling a silly face and Wanda did pick the option of bursting out into laughter, crashing back against the rest of the couch. Natasha rolled her eyes, but soon joined in, and even Bucky, who could dream the story by now, let out his own bark of joy and slapped his own leg. 

“Best horror story ever!” Bucky said, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“It took me a moment!” Wanda laughed, “I love it!”

“No!” Steve said back, a little whiny, “You should be scared! It’s a creepy story!”

Biker AU

“People say you’re dangerous. A punk. They think you’re one of those biker gang criminals you shouldn’t hang out with.”

Knowingly, Steve leaned forward on his motorcycle, his skin-tight jeans stretching across the swell of his ass, and with a small upwards curl of the corner of his lip he saw Bucky’s eyes dart back and forth. He cocked his head to the side slightly. “And what do you think?”

In hesitant response, Bucky shrugged a little, licking those pretty pink lips of him. “I think you look really good in that leather jacket.”