On, Wisconsin!

The buildings lining the road look old and slightly worn. They weren’t insanely old, but not necessarily brand new. A lot of the exteriors had old, rotting wood. A majority of the main street is composed of taverns and mom-and-pop restaurants. Within two minutes, you’ve already driven out of the town.

Thick, luscious trees crowd both sides of the bumpy highway as far as the eye could see. You check your phone to see if anyone from the team had tried to reach you, only to find that you’ve completely lost signal. A smile plays at your lips. Now we’re officially up north.

Bucky groans in the front seat.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks as he stares at the road, one hand on the wheel and one hanging out the window.

“No signal,” Bucky mutters. “Looks like we’re officially in the middle of nowhere.”

“Oh, you poor city boy,” you chuckle. Bucky turns around in his seat and glares at you from behind his headrest. You grin and playfully stick out your tongue at him. He huffs and turns back around, slumping down into his seat and throwing his feet onto the dash.

“Woah,” Steve quietly gasps. You look out the window across from you and take in the gorgeous view of Lake Superior. Waves hungrily lap at the shoreline, and you spot people lounging on a long strip of beach, soaking up the sun and splashing in the water.

“Welcome to the north, boys,” you proclaim leaning forward between the two front seats of the car as a wild grin spreads across your face.

“Turn right,” the GPS voice commands. Steve takes the turn and the view of the lake disappears behind you.

“How much longer?” Bucky groans. “I’m starving.”

“We just ate like two hours ago, how are you starving?” You mock him, leaning up close to his ear.

He turns his head, peering at you from the corner of his eye. “For your information, I’m a growing boy.”

“You’re kidding, right?” You snort.

“Alright you two, calm down,” Steve’s using his “mom” voice. It’s the type of tone that parents use when their kids are misbehaving and threaten to turn the car around. “We’ll be there in an hour, Buck.”

Bucky unleashes a loud, childish groan as he slumps further down his seat. “A whole hour?” He grumbles.

“How old are you? Five? If you’re gonna be a crabass, then take a nap,” you tell him over the wind rushing in through the open windows.

A little less than an hour later, you’re cruising down an empty, winding road through the hills and forests. You haven’t seen a building in over forty-five minutes, but the GPS says there are only ten more minutes until you reach the cabin. Steve takes another turn.

The car slows and you peer over Bucky’s seat and see a large cluster of construction machinery shrouded in clouds of dust. A flagger turns the sign he’s holding to “STOP”, and Steve slows the car to a halt. You hear Bucky dramatically sigh, and you roll your eyes. Can he be any more of a child?

After a few moments, the flagger flips the sign back to “SLOW” and waves Steve through. The wind carries some dust into the car, making you cough. Naturally, road work in Wisconsin. Who would’ve guessed.

The rest of the way was clear, and about ten minutes later, Steve makes the last turn onto the road leading to the cabin. The road isn’t even a road, really - just a bunch of red dirt fashioned into a road.

“Why is it so red?” Steve ponders.

“‘Cause of the iron. There’s more of it in the earth up here,” you inform him as you text Nat and tell her that you’ve made it safely, hoping that the one bar of reception would be enough to send the message. Steve slows the car as he searches for the cabin’s number. From what you’ve seen so far, your cabin was probably the only one down this road.

“Ah ha,” Steve playfully cheers. He pulls the car into a long dirt driveway and your cabin comes into view. It looks like a normal house but has a large sun room and steps leading down to a dock that reaches into a gorgeous lake. Trees are everywhere, and when you look out at the lake, you can’t even see other docks.

“You’ve arrived at your destination,” the GPS voice chimes.

At lightning speed, you unbuckle and throw open your car door, taking a deep breath of the fresh, clean forest air. Reaching to the treetops, you push yourself onto your toes in a glorious, refreshing stretch. Your muscles thank you as the ache of your cramped limbs washes away.

Bucky opens his door, but stumbles, landing on his face.

“What the fuuuuck,” he growls. Rolling onto his back, he vigorously shakes his leg free from the straps of his duffel bag that had been tucked by his feet.

“You okay there, Buck?” You snort, crossing your arms across your chest and shifting your weight to one foot.

Bucky dramatically flops his arms out. “Shut up,” he mumbles. You shrug your shoulders and head to the back of the car, opening the trunk and pulling out your bags. Steve rounds the car and grabs his bags. As he turns to leave, he pauses. “Wait…where did Bucky go?” His brows knit together in confusion.

“Probably still on the ground,” you sigh and turn away, heading for the cabin. When you reserved the cabin for the week, the owner had told you that you could find the key in a baggie under a red rock by the door. You drop one of your bags and pick up a large red rock by your foot. Sure enough, there was a baggie with the key. Shoving the key into the lock, it silently clicks open, and you push on the door.

The door swings open to reveal a gorgeous sun room with a futon and a few chairs. Taking the few steps that lead to the main level, you open another door and toss your bag next to a shoe rack. A living room with two couches, a plasma T.V., and a chair was to your left while a kitchen with a small island and the bathroom was to your right. Ahead of you was a king sized bed that was separated from the rest of the room with a curtain.

Steve and Bucky walk up the steps and drop their bags next to yours.

“I call the big bed!” You take a running start and flop onto the bed, sinking into the cool mattress.

“Alright, then you get to bunk with Buck,” Steve shrugs and picks up his bag, tossing it onto the futon in the sunroom. “I’ll sleep out here.”

“What,” you and Bucky groan simultaneously.

“Fine, then you share the big bed with Buck, I’ll take the futon,” you bargain as you hop off the bed and walk towards the sunroom. Steve sticks out his arm, nearly clotheslining you.

“Not so fast, kid. No way are Buck and I sharin’ that bed, there’s not enough room for the both of us. But there is enough room for you and Bucky,” Steve’s eyes light up as he basks in silent humor.

“But Steeeve, can’t I just share the bed with you? Or, can’t he take the couch?” You whine.

“Woah, woah, woah…why would I have to take the couch? Why can’t you?” Bucky shoves a finger in your direction.

“Me? I’m the one who set up this whole trip, I deserve the big bed!” You stomp towards Bucky, standing a few inches from him. He has at least a good eight inches on you, and you have to tilt your head up to look at him. “You get the couch,” you shove a finger against his chest.

“Thaaat’s enough, you two,” Steve gently pulls you back by your hood. “Either you share the bed, or one of you sleeps on the couch.”

You look at the two couches. Both of them seem decent, but they also look older than you, and you question their cleanliness and level of comfort.

“Fine,” you roll your eyes. “We’ll share the bed,” you grumble at Steve. A smile appears on his face.

“See? Was it really that hard? Now, after we unpack the rest of the car, I’ll run into town and get some food,” Steve ducks out of the room.

“If you steal the blankets while we’re sleeping,” you threaten as you turn towards Bucky. “I’ll kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Bucky smirks slyly.

Once Steve left and everything was unpacked, you grabbed a fishing pole and headed down towards the dock. A warm breeze delicately dances through your hair. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, and the lake was so clear, you could see the red sanded-bottom as you stand at the end of the wooden dock. A content sigh escapes your lips. You slide off your sandals and take a seat at the edge of the dock, dipping your feet into the clear, cool water. Huge, lush trees crowd the shore line of the lake, and you can hear their branches dancing in the summer breeze.

You bait your hook and cast the line into the lake. the bobber lands with a soft bloop, sending baby ripples through the water. Just as you settle against a post, the boards beneath you shake and the sound of heavy footsteps and whistling rips through the serene air. You heave a sigh, this time in annoyance, as the whistling grows louder then comes to a sudden stop and you feel a presence towering next to you.

“Watchya doin’, doll?” Bucky’s voice booms across the open lake.

“What does it look like, Buck?” You push your sunglasses up your nose. The edge of the dock stabs into the bottom of your thighs, causing you to shift in discomfort.

“Have you caught anything yet?” He lowers himself onto the edge next to you.

“Nope,” you sigh. A few seconds later, something bites down on your hook, violently pulling the bobber underwater. “Shit,” your breath hisses. You quickly rise to your feet and yank on the line, then start reeling in. The top of your pole bends, threatening to break, as whatever that’s on the end of the line zigzags through the water. “I think I-” your line snaps!, sending you stumbling backward. Before you could fall into the lake, Bucky grabs your arm, pulling you into his body. You blink and look up at him. “Uh…t-thanks, Buck,” your voice falters as a small wave of heat threatens to creep into your cheeks.

“No problem, doll,” Bucky smirks. You pull away from his hold on you and grab the fishing line dangling from the top of your pole. Whatever snapped the line got away with your hook and weight, sparring the bobber.

“That’s just great,” you groan. “Well, it was nice while it lasted.” You rummage through the tackle box in search for a new hook and weights to out on the line, but come up empty. “I’ll have to text Steve and tell him to get more.”

“In the meantime, why don’t we go out on that boat?” Bucky throws his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of a small paddle boat tied to the dock.

You had two options: wait for Steve to come back, which at the rate he shops and how far he had to travel means he probably won’t be back for another two hours. Or, you could blow some time out on the water.

Deciding that doing something is better than sitting around and doing nothing, you agree. You head back to the cabin and grab your swim suit. It’s a black one piece, and in your opinion, sexy as hell. It makes your butt and boobs look fantastic.

Grabbing a towel and your sunglasses, you head back down to the dock and find Bucky waiting for you with the rope that secured the boat in his hand. He’d changed into swim shorts and a white t-shirt, and a pair of sunglasses rested on the top of his head.

“Well don’t you look amazing,” Bucky hums. A stupid grin is plastered on his face.

“Thanks, I try,” you mutter sarcastically. Using a pole on the dock to steady yourself, you climb into the boat. The edge dips closer to the water under your weight and you settle on the farthest seat, placing your towel under you. Bucky tosses the rope onto the front of the boat and lowers himself into the boat. He weighs far more than you (“It’s all muscle”, as he would say), and it feels as if the boat will capsize at any second. You begin to second guess your choice.

“Alright, doll. Onward,” he cheerfully sighs as he begins to peddle. The boat slowly chugs along, and you and Bucky decided to anchor close to the middle of the lake. You aren’t even sure if the anchor lands on the bottom, but the boat doesn’t float away, so you decide it’s good enough. You stand on your seat and swing your leg over to the back end of the boat where there’s a small ladder attached to the end and enough space for at least two other people to sit or lie down in. Even with your sunglasses, the sun burns your eyes, and you shield them, looking at the dock which is now far away.

“Ya know what? This is pretty - FUCK!” Your scream cuts across the calm surface of the water as Bucky pushes you over the boat. You swim up, breaking the surface of the water a few feet away from the boat. “I’m going to kill you,” you hiss at Bucky. He’s crouching at the end of the boat, laughing so hard you thought he would pass out. What an asshat. He stands and easily pulls his shirt over his head. The muscles in his arm and shoulder flex as he crumbles his shirt into a ball and tosses it to the front of the boat. His metal arm shines in the hot sun, and he uses it to pull his other arm across his chest in a stretch.

“Ready or not, doll,” he backs up until his heels are against the two back seats. “Here I come!” He smirks and takes two powerful steps that rock the boat, then uses the edge to propel himself into the water.

“BUCKY NO,” you yell. He drops into the water right next to you, sending a wave of water into your face. You spit out lake water and wipe at your eyes as Bucky breaks the surface of the water.

“Sorry ‘bout that, doll,” he slicks back his hair.

“Yeah, sure,” you playfully splash water into his face. He blinks the water out of his eyes and you start swimming back towards the boat. You put your foot on the first rung of the ladder and start hauling your soaked body out of the water when a pair of hands tightly grab your waist. Before you could react, you’re torn from the ladder and sent into the air. You land with another splash. When you swim up, you choke on some water and swipe at your eyes. Bucky’s wearing a shit-eating grin and stifling his laugh behind a closed fist.

“Alright, Barnes,” you huff. “You asked for it.”

For the next two hours, you and Bucky take turns catching the other off guard and throwing them into the lake, playing an intense game of Marco Polo, and basking in the sun on the end of the boat. Bucky’s stomach rumbles, and he sits up.

“Did we bring any food?” He clutches his stomach. “I think I’m gonna starve to death,” he whines.

“No, but we should probably head back anyway. Steve might think we were killed or somethin’ if we’re gone when he gets back,” you sigh, sitting up. Grabbing the towels from your seat, you toss one at Bucky and start to dry your hair. You watch as Bucky rises and begins to dry out his own hair, the muscles in his back shifting and rippling as his muscular arms raise to scrunch the water out of his hair. 

Dammit, Y/N. Don’t let yourself do this.