ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ (vibraniarm) wrote in avengers_logs, @ 2018-10-27 17:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | -complete, bucky barnes, wanda maximoff |
Who: Wanda & Bucky
What: Vacation
When: (backdated) Whenever Stark bought the tickets
Where: Transylvania
Rating: Green
This was silly, wasn’t it? If you’d asked Bucky Barnes a few months ago if he thought he would be on a “vacation” he might have thought you were referring to sending him back to Wakanda. Or a part of it he’d yet to see. Yet here he was at a reputable (by this application called Yelp, apparently) with Wanda Maximoff, putting away the assortment of clothing he had gathered for the trip along the way. He had very few belongings beforehand. And here he was, traveling and seeing the world without waging a war or having to fight one. It was actually very nice. He would almost say relaxing. “I’ve never stayed in one of these before,” he commented, a little sheepishly. “Almost like we’re paying someone to have a sleepover.” It was fine. Like back in the old days when everyone spent the night at each other’s houses when some had none. “The view is amazing. Great choice.” “I haven’t either,” Wanda chuckled, unzipping her own suitcase to see about unpacking. It was a long trip to Transylvania and they were right in the heart of it - precisely, in a remote village called Cund, about three hours from the unofficial capital of Cluj. She felt like she needed to freshen up but was ultimately too excited to worry much about the potential bags under her eyes or lack of color in her cheeks. “But...a sleepover, yes. This is a good way to put it.” Except the owner of the farmhouse wasn’t here (though he lived in the same village nearby) - but apparently it had been recently renovated; the building itself was over one-hundred years old. It was the type of place where the view was amazing; looking out the window in the morning would ensure a glimpse of a shepherd passing by with their flock - all those rolling green valleys, miles and miles of vines, herbs, fruit trees. There was only one bedroom, but if you asked the owner to provide a cot he would. Wanda hadn’t asked. She picked up the brochure that came with their welcome package, studying it. “Donkey rides, horse and carriage...hmm...but no internet, I do not think,” she grinned, moving closer to come up behind Bucky, hand sliding up his back and resting on his shoulder. “Will you be fine with not checking your email?” It was seclusion without being quite so..alone. There were people close enough at the village, a beautiful environment, and the farmhouse was warm and felt comfortable. Definitely his kind of place. A European sort of Wakanda retreat. “You know I don’t have an email,” he smirked at her over his shoulder, eyes lidding only lightly because he knew she was teasing, and he didn’t mind it at all. “But if I have to look up what something is, you’ll have to be here in place of the google for me.” Fascinating as the Internet was, Bucky used it more for research purposes. He was still faithful to the newspaper and books. “I dunno about the donkeys. I may just hike next to you so I don’t traumatize the trip by cracking the poor thing’s back.” He would. And the thought made him feel bad. Though this was about spending time together and relaxing. For him, making Wanda happy. He zipped up the unpacked suitcase before turning to face her fully. “But what do you want to do first?” There may have been wifi, but it wasn’t the most reliable at this remote hideaway - perhaps elsewhere in the village. However, Wanda wasn’t about to go hunting for a signal. She was content where she was. “I will be your Google,” she decided, hands framing Bucky’s face when he turned to look at her - her thumbs stroked his bristly cheeks and the dimple in his chin, which she thought was particularly charming. “Because I know things.” She was kidding, but it was true. Being telepathic was kind of like Google anyway. “Hm, let’s see - “ There were many options; the owner of this farmhouse was quite accommodating, and would set up appointments with the aforementioned horse and carriage for a nice ride, or the donkeys - they didn’t have to ride donkeys, though she thought it was cute Bucky was concerned his sheer muscle mass and vibranium arm (by the way, it was a good thing they flew via private Stark arrangements - getting through security with that arm in a standard airport must be a nightmare) would crush the animal. “I need a shower first,” she said, bopping up on her toes to kiss his jaw. “Then we can go for a walk? Explore a little?” Bucky smiled warmly as she framed his face, eyes closing and leaning into her touch. One he was comfortable with. And while she wasn’t Google, she certainly knew more than he did. It was easier not to think on reasons why he shouldn’t be comfortable or happy while they were away. He couldn’t quite explain why, but, Wanda was certainly already helping to push him more out of his comfort zone all the while keeping him perfectly stable. “Alright.” He chuckled at her quick bop to kiss his jaw. Her tiny little affections would take some getting used to but they made him feel alive again. Bucky took one of her hands and kissed her knuckles gently, “I can make some hot chocolate for the walk while you get ready?” Now that he knew how to make. “Oh!” The smile on Wanda’s face was one that spoke volumes - namely, that she hadn’t even considered hot chocolate but that was a ridiculously good idea; there was a bit of a chill in the air, that pleasant nip of autumn. In fact, when they returned, she would be pleased to make use of the lovely fireplace. Their host had welcomed them with a nicely stocked kitchen - namely, homemade apple juice, butter, jams, cheese, and fresh breads. There were also other things in the pantry and refrigerator, most likely. “Yes, that would be nice. I won’t be long,” she promised, going to take a change of clothes from her suitcase before disappearing into the bathroom. There was a shower, toilet, and wash basin - and instead of tiles, the floor was made of river stones. It was very rustic and simple. Wanda liked it quite a bit. She was quick with her shower, changing into a red turtleneck sweater and black leggings, with tall boots over those. It took a little bit more time to blow dry her hair but she didn’t want to go outside looking like a drowned rat - she didn’t put on much makeup either, but at least she felt better when she emerged. “Unde ești, frumos?” she asked, her boots creaking on the hardwood floor. It was also nice to be in a country where she could freely speak Romanian too - sometimes in America she got funny looks. They were so particular about foreigners speaking English only, she found. He would probably need a bath later but for now he was fine as he was. Leaving her to her privacy, Bucky wandered downstairs to take in the environment and how warm and homey it really was. There was some wood for the fireplace, he could chop some more tomorrow, but for now he got a baby fire started just to keep the nip out of the house. He also just liked the smell of firewood. Rummaging through the kitchen he found some milk, cocoa, and marshmallows. The owner had definitely gone out of their way to stock them up. While the task may have been mundane, it was little things like this that Bucky really appreciated. Nothing but the sound of the fire, the nature outside and the water running Wanda’s shower. Tying his hair back out of his face save for the strands of his bangs, he took out two smaller pots—one to warm the milk, the other to melt the chocolate. During the holidays he remembered..they were rich enough for hot chocolate. His mother might have surprised he and his siblings with it. Though Bucky couldn’t remember their faces… The chocolate was melted by the time Wanda had dressed and he was slowly stirring it into the warm milk, letting a few marshmallows get toasty inside the warm stove. A light smirk and he answered her gently, “În bucătărie, minunat.” He was currently searching for some to go mugs. “How many marshmallows do you want?” She went into the kitchen, slinging her crossbody bag over her waist - she didn’t have much in there, just keys to the house and some cash, ID, the usuals. No cell phone and that was surprisingly a relief. “As many marshmallows as the cup allows,” Wanda replied mischievously, joining Bucky - her shorter stature meant she came up to about his shoulder, but she paused and nuzzled there, before stepping back to let him finish. “The chocolate must be so good here. I noticed a little store up the road - just basic supplies and things, but it’s all local. Anything from Bucharest is too metropolitan,” she chuckled, rummaging through the rest of the cabinets just out of curiosity - oh yes, there it was. The homemade plum brandy. Țuică. That would be perfect by the fire later too. “You like a little cocoa with your marshmallows?” He teased warmly as she nuzzled against his back, her affections were as sweet as she was. Bucky reached behind him to grasp her hand momentarily before finishing securing their delicious treat in weather resistant mugs. He caught sight of her roaming into what could only be presumed as the liquor cabinet, setting her mug down in front of her and wagging his finger, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t think so ma’am, we know what that brandy does to you.” Bucky took a sip from his mug before playfully nudging her out of the kitchen. “We’re losing daylight. Haide, ia-ți haina, dor.” “It does not do anything to me,” Wanda was giggling a little though, because she distinctly remembered their night at the jazz club - it had been fun, even if she was just slightly intoxicated. “Mă vei da...how about a spanking? If I do not behave,” she tacked on, her tone husky and as warm and welcoming as that fire in the hearth; she took the mug from Bucky, fingers stroking his wrist as she did. Minx. Oh, well. He was the only one she would be minxy for - so she did not regret that. She slipped on a peacoat that matched the shade of her sweater, buttoning up. Then they were off, ready to explore the small village. Immediately, she reached out and took his hand, the vibranium one. It was easy enough to lace their fingers. “It is so beautiful out here,” she sighed - sure enough, she’d been right about the small store near their farmhouse. There was also a craft cheese shop up the road too, and she had to go and observe the wares in the window just because. Who didn’t love fancy cheese? “You’ll behave if you want that meal I promised.” Bucky said with a huff as he was right behind her, slipping on his jacket and closing the door behind them. She was a troublemaker, in secret, where she was comfortable. He used to have that in him. Maybe bits and pieces. Things that he’d lost that he was still trying to recover. The Bucky who made the best of nothing and helped raised spirits when things always seem to always be down. He took her hand ever so gently, hardly applying any pressure. He couldn’t feel her hand and the only way to control the strength in his arm was to apply none at all. “Yeah, it is.” Bucky agreed as he took in the sights with her, smile growing as she went to excitedly check out the shop windows. Of cheese no less. “They don’t have a whole lot of this back in the city. Everything handmade.” “No, they do not. Back in the city it is very...manufactured,” Wanda observed, swinging their joined hands lightly between them as she held her hot chocolate in the other, sipping a bit. It was so rich and creamy, worlds apart from Swiss Miss found in a packet. Hopefully she wouldn’t gain fifty pounds on this trip. Though it didn’t seem likely, because there was so much to eat - she stopped to study the menu posted outside a tiny restaurant, everything grown, raised, or baked not more than a mile right from the site. Potato soup, cheese curds, duck - it all sounded good. The restaurant was apparently owned by a few local women; she made a mental note to come back tomorrow. “Sheep!” The fluffy creatures thankfully got her mind off of rich food - she headed further down the road, trying not to drag Bucky too enthusiastically, toward the flock behind their wooden fence. There were a few horses at the camp too, and the herding dogs. In the distance she saw the sheds where cheese from sheep’s milk was made. “Oh, look - I have read all about the pastoral shepherds,” she said. “They live and work with sheep for literally twenty-four hours a day.” No running water, no toilets, no electricity - they lived away from their families for months out of the year and only had oil lamps for light. Bucky was definitely up for trying each and every piece of this town’s food offerings. And thankfully he’d never have to worry about gaining weight. Only not looking like a monster with his food intake. Laughing all the while her mind fluttered from sight to sight, he let her tag him along, no sweat keeping up with her. “Yeah? Some villages in Wakanda are like that. Every tribe contributes something to country, and everything is connected.” Yeah, he felt bad always comparing everything to Wakanda but it was where he was able to try to start living again. Where James Buchanan Barnes was more or less born again. “I was helping with the lumber and sheep when I was there. Everything is precious and tradition. These guys spread it out to parts of the year I guess?” Wakanda had been unlike anything Wanda ever saw before - she wanted to return someday, and not for battle. So she didn’t mind Bucky making those comparisons - it made sense that he found safely and solace in such a wonderful place. “Yes, different crops for different parts of the year,” she nodded. “And for different terrains. Transylvania gets a lot of rain - the farms are not so manufactured either. They are more rugged and natural.” The dogs were also adorable, but Wanda wouldn’t pet them - she didn’t want them to mistake her as a threat to the sheep; their job was to keep predators away, and to attack bears or wolves that wandered by. “Perhaps we could go back to Wakanda someday?” she suggested, continuing on their walk - there was still a lot to explore, dirt roads and the valleys. “I would go with you, if you’d let me. I’d like to see it without having to deal with a giant grape.” Rugged and natural was about where he liked to find his peace these days. While the city used to be his home, Bucky just couldn’t find his comfort there. Nothing was the same and it never would be. But even he was having trouble adjusting to Brooklyn. “I planned on going back before Stark offered this whole free trip thing, actually.” Bucky confessed, watching the dogs spring about with panting tongues and wagging tails whilst keeping watch after their sheep. His icy blue eyes glanced back at her when she mentioned wanting to go. “Of course I would.” The idea of him telling anyone no, much less Wanda, was silly. Even if Bucky liked his time to himself. “You’ll love it there once you get a chance to actually experience it without..right. A war.” A grape, she called him. “They’re the kindest people I’ve met. Their land is beautiful and they teach and share unconditionally...I think if the rest of the world was a little more like Wakanda, the Avengers wouldn’t have to exist.” “If only the world was a little more like Wakanda,” she sounded wistful - but a little bitter, because Wanda was a realist. She knew how fickle humanity was, how the whole world was - still, that would not stop her from trying to do the right thing. She had a lot to make up for, given her past mistakes. “I would love for you to show me around, then.” But if not, she wouldn’t mind if he wanted to reflect there by himself - Wanda would give him space when necessary. She was good at that, considering she liked her own space sometimes too. They passed a smattering of houses; they looked worn yet sturdy and were adorned with intricate designs on the outside. “To decorate these is tradition,” she said, stopping to study the art. “They are old patterns. Each means something. The square means intelligence, the circle means eternity - the sieve means...the human wisdom to separate right from wrong.” Sometimes she felt as if she still had trouble with that, but she tried. She looked up at him, stepping closer. “They are pretty, aren’t they?” “Then we’ll make that our next trip.” He knew Okoye would go back and forth sometimes as she was their general. She’d said it was his home and he was welcome there. He wanted Wanda to feel how great it was to live in a place where peace was possible, and cohabitation was just as simple as a few traditions, stories, and even Shuri’s science. Bucky lost himself in the different architecture of the houses as she explained, admiring their shape and the decorations. His eyes fell over each shape as she explained, falling deeper into thought. “Hmm. Intelligence is only matched by what is right and wrong?” No, that wasn’t it. Where did eternity come into play then..and right and wrong. Those were subjective. “They’re definitely insightful,” he gazed back down at her, offering a small smile from his mind wandering. “But hell if I’m smart enough to figure out the deeper meaning.” “I do not know if there even is a deeper meaning,” Wanda laughed - the symbols just meant whatever they meant, to different people. Or they could mean nothing at all. “I just like these houses. If I was ever to retire or...whatever it is washed up Avengers do, I’d want to have a house out here like this.” But it was fun to try to figure out the deeper meaning, and also observe the colors. “Yellow is for rich crops, green is for nature, blue is for health - “ Her fingers did a spiderwalk up Bucky’s chest, chin tilted up as well to watch his face. “Red is for love.” Then she kissed him, and one thing she realized right then and there was that there was such passion, such enthusiasm and affection she wanted to share. Like the burn of hot peppers on the tongue, savoring and lingering, it just tingled; maybe kissing Bucky would always be like that, and she wasn't complaining. “Washed up Avengers,” he huffed with a slight chuckle. Was that even a thing? He supposed soldiers always kept fighting until their body couldn’t take it, or they died. But there would always be a war and a fight. That’s something Steve would understand. And ultimately change around into something that was positive. “I think I’d just travel.” Nowhere really felt home. Bucky was still working on that. Every fight was another trigger to him. He was too good at being a weapon. No matter who he was fighting for. Blinking out of his thoughts to listen to her explanation, he merely shook his head. “You sure do know your art,” he watched as she sneakily crept her hand up his chest, a sheepish grin on his face before she kissed him. It was much more overwhelming than he would have thought. But it was a bit of compassion and tenderness he’d been without for a very, very long time. He sighed longingly into her lips, dipping his head and cupping her face so he could return her passion as much as he could. He tasted like chocolate - it was delicious, yes, though she had a feeling Bucky was always delicious. She liked the way he cupped her face - his hands were cold, but that may be because one was made of metal or also because her cheeks were flaming hot. And yet she still liked it anyway, her fingers spreading and grasping his wrists to hold him there because she didn’t want him to slip away. “Iubițel,” she called him darling in Romanian, not something she’d ever said to anyone before. “Sărută-mă de data asta.” Sultry smoke in her voice and a gleam in her eye - it was like riding a bike, wasn’t it? Getting back into this sort of thing? Wanda would be glad to help out with that. The aftertaste if the cocoa certainly didn’t hurt liplocking one bit. He let his metal hand fall from her face, realizing it must have been cold, he hadn’t had time to think on it. But his lips curled inward as he looked down at her eyes, biting his lower lip. Maybe not as easy as riding a bike, but Bucky’s heart didn’t go anywhere. It’s why he cared so much about what he’d done. He let his head rest against hers when she spoke natively to him with her endearments, his face flushing ever so slightly. “Daca insisti..” Bucky smiled under his breath, thumb brushing over her cheek before threading through her hair and tilting her head up so he could find her lips again, free hand wrapping around her waist carefully to pull her close. Wanda didn’t even realize that she had dropped all of her things - her bag, with her (luckily closed) hot chocolate mug inside - because she just needed to be closer, hip to hip, chest to chest, with her stretching up to kiss him until she couldn’t breathe. That was all she knew, close, without anything awkward or bumpy in between them. She looped her arms around Bucky’s neck and gave him another kiss, a sizzle of one - it made her feel like she was drunk; for a minute she was underwater. Everything was bubbles and the rush of blood in her ears. “Should we head back?” she asked, only stopping to inhale oxygen - her face was flushed, as she sheepishly bent to pick up her things. The contents of her bag had spilled out; there wasn’t much in there, but she hastily crammed it all back in. “It’s a little chilly.” It wasn’t, at least not to her - she felt like she could burst from her skin, everything a thousand degrees. He was still easing into this but Bucky had missed compassion. Convinced himself he didn’t deserve it. But Wakanda had pushed him to start over. Live in the now, not the past, no matter how horrible it may have been. Wanda almost made it easy. When she broke for air he held her steadily, content with the warmth and closeness until she moved to fetch her things. He had also dropped his mug and picked it up. “Sure, let's make sure you’re warm.” Her nose and cheeks were rosy, his own were slightly flushed. But that was for another reason. The temperature didn’t bother him at all. He made sure to try and help her get all of her things together, along with his own mug, before wrapping his flesh arm around Wanda’s waist to tuck her snugly against his side as he turned to walk them back. “We can explore more tomorrow when it’s brighter.” “Yes, we’ll have the whole day,” she nodded, her arm wrapping around Bucky’s waist to further anchor herself to his side. “And nothing pressing to do. Except explore...and eat.” That was the beauty of it, anyway. At least for Wanda. She enjoyed being outside but was glad to be back indoors too, the farmhouse a nice and cozy respite. When she got back inside she slipped her coat off, turning toward Bucky and kissing him again. It was already familiar and comforting, an old melody she knew by heart. Her palms had been flattened against his chest, but she snaked them up to allow room to loop her arms around his neck, leaning against him while staring up with an electrified sort of look. “Will you tell me if it’s...too much?” she asked, since the last thing she wanted was to make him uncomfortable with physicality he wasn’t ready for yet. And he really could tell her, she wouldn’t be offended. “I’m not a mindreader - well, I am,” playfully, she rolled cornflower blue eyes. “But I will not read yours.” There was definitely a draw to the farmhouse. The small fire he made earlier kept it nice and warm, a light hint of their cocoa was in the air as well. A comfortable solitude without being alone. He hadn’t quite expected her kiss again, but smiled against her lips, returning the affection and embrace. Even if his heart beat so roughly in his chest from all the stimulation he wasn’t quite used to. A bit overwhelming, in a good way, but Bucky just didn’t want to get anything wrong. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Bucky nodded along with her words, thankful she was being considerate. He couldn’t help but return a sheepish grin to her charming little quips. “I appreciate that.” He stroked the side of her face with his fingertips, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll tell you. I’m just..getting used to it. Thank you..for being so patient with me. I hope I’m not..ruining anything?” “Of course not,” Wanda insisted, nuzzling at his throat, up along the scruffy jawline she liked quite a bit - she didn’t think she could picture Bucky completely clean shaven. The longer hair and the beard worked for him. “Ești minunat și îmi place să fiu cu tine.” She kissed his cheek, the corner of his mouth - it was likely she would prefer to never stop, if given the chance. But life things - you know, eating and breathing and sleeping, all of that. It might get in the way. “I’m hungry, are you? Let’s see what our host left for us,” she suggested, turning to head toward the kitchen. They’d get that fire going again too, and relax without worry about what was going on back in New York. Yes, that sounded like an overall decent plan to her. |