#Samuel pines

[tinfoil-jones]

Jerk Ford AU: Rumour Mill

Jerk Ford's only confirmed ally in the multiverse is the Anti-Ford. Any further rumours that they are friends, or that he has other allies that can considered friends, are nothing but unfounded nonsense.

The individuals named in these rumours include:

S, the Archivist from The Great Archive had been investigating Jerk Ford after he infected a different galactic archive, one belonging to a textile company, with a virus that changed every third noun to the word "d*ck", as retribution for the company continuing to email him ten years after he'd bought a coat from them. Jerk Ford may or may not have thrown him off of a roof, and there might have been a following rooftop chase, but nothing came from that. This incident happened around fifteen years after Jerk Ford fell through his portal.

[People who know him as Samuel

People who know him as ???

Imagine "the boiled one"]

"Watchdog" Ford-419"3 also known by a myriad of nicknames by Jerk Ford such as "John McClane", "Clearance Rack Jason Todd" and "The Ford Punisher" had considered killing Jerk Ford once, around twenty years after Jerk Ford fell through his portal, but Watchdog had more important tasks at hand than entertaining some mostly-harmless cosmic nuisance.

[Jerk Ford is the figure on the left and Watchdog Ford is the figure on the right]

Their dynamic of mutual disrespect never changed.

Further rumours about all four of these men (?) regularly meeting up at O'Sadleys to drink together is also nonsense.

[S: 'Oh my God, he's gonna kill me'

Watchdog Ford: *does not care*

Watchdog Ford: 'Oh my God, he's gonna kill me.'

S: *does not care*]

An oddly specific story has cropped up about S being an alien shapeshifter who was forced into a smaller, infantile form after an incident at said bar, where he then had to be taken care of like a baby by Watchdog Ford's brother Lee-77/H. And he reportedly stayed that way until Jerk Ford, who is an absolute lightweight who can get trashed after two beers, recovered and could formulate a regeneration cure.

[Jerk Ford and Anti Ford: *Drunk*

S: This is not how you hold an infant-

Watchdog Ford: Help us.]

And while all of this was happening, Watchdog Ford had to take S's place at The Great Archive where all of the other Archivists assumed he was just S going through another identity crisis and taking a different human form.

And the Anti-Ford was babysitting the drunk and/or hungover Jerk Ford, swearing that he would never let him drink another Long Island Iced Tea ever again.

This story is so outlandish, especially the ending where S is still treated like a child by Lee who goes so far as to make him bug-themed lunches with cute little notes, that truly it can't be believed by anyone with an iota of sense.

[Kids bento]

It's important you do yourself a favour and don't believe everything you hear.

[Art and S The Archivist by @tearosepedall]

[Watchdog Ford and Lee-77/H by @nowimjustastranger]

[that-ghosts-art]

So I made an AMV :3 It’s just the chorus but I am ridiculously proud of how this turned out ^-^

The song is A Self Called Nowhere by They Might Be Giants and the fic I based it on is Alcor the Dreambender’s Infinite Bed and Breakfast by Gauvain :D

[whaliiwatching]

haunts the punk rocker with gay thoughts

prompt: dream

[dollarstoreartsupplies]

inktober day 17: journal

not clickbait!! the smartest coolest cutiest twins in the galaxy have john hershel's private personal journal and he says moon buffalo babey!!!

[thatzombieinafedora]

(TW: SPOILERS FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA: BRAVE NEW WORLD) Bill watching the whole new Captain America movie:

Bill when he sees Samuel Sterns doing things that he did to Ford:

[bad-system]

equo ne credite, samuel x oc (blasius) drabble Horsing around, and something as tender as a bruise. Set in 1402. before the events of KCD2. __________

“Hah,” Samuel grunted. “Fuck.”

Blasius looked up from counting groschen he’d won the night before inquisitively. Samuel barging into their shared room was hardly an oddity, but him gripping the door with a winded breath was a less common occurrence. 

“Getting too old for the stairs?” Samuel pointed a sharp glare in his direction before trudging towards his own bed and collapsing on it. “Your prized cow kicked me again,” he bristled. He lifted his tunic carefully, revealing a wide, developing bruise on his hip. Blasius, more alert now, crossed the room in two steps to crouch in front of Sam. He nearly reached for the mottled skin before remembering himself quietly, like a coward. “I told you,” he hummed, voice infuriatingly mild as he rummaged through his travel bag. “He hates being fed a kosher diet.” 

Basheer, his beloved bay Arabian, was a fickle beast at best, a fiend at worst. He was a content creature with Blasius’ ever-changing horizons, filled to brim with wanderlust almost as much as his owner. Though recently, Blasius’ unusually prolonged stay at Kuttenberg had started making the animal feel restless. Samuel, by extension, was bearing the brunt of it.

“Farshiltn vildeh khayah,” he winced, undoubtedly venting his frustrations at the horse as he gingerly touched the bruise.

Blasius tossed a calendula ointment from hand to hand as he returned to Samuel’s side. He took a seat next to him on the bed, tutting sharply at Sam when he failed to raise the tunic high enough. Exasperated, Samuel rolled it up higher as Blasius’ long, slender fingers carefully spread the orange ointment over the discloured skin. Smooth, warm. Almost as mottled with want as Blasius himself.

“You’ve been hanging out with my mame for too long.” Sam noted as he regarded the careful, tender motion. 

Blasius snorted. “You could do with some mothering.”

His glee, however, was cut short as he stood up and his knee made a noticeable ‘crack’ in the quiet of the room. He froze for a moment before catching Samuel’s face bloom with a barely suppressed shit-eating grin. 

“Not a word,” he warned.

“By the sound of it, I think you might be fit for the job,” Samuel laughed. Blasius shot him an unamused glare.

“Mind your manners, boy,” Blasius hissed, but it did little to assuage Sam’s unrepentant laughter.

Samuel let himself collapse on the bed with an exhale as he regarded the cartographer again. Though, instead of retiring back behind his desk, he watched Blasius gather up Samuel’s sleeping shirt from the floor—watched, but didn’t expect him to make for the door with it.

“Oy!” Samuel shot up. “Where the fuck are you going with that?”

Blasius didn’t slow down. “Feeding your tunic to Basheer,” he called over his shoulder, letting the door thud shut behind him.

Samuel swore colorfully and scrambled after him, barefoot and cursing.

[the-uncouth-gentleman]

Soos Ramirez and Stanley Pines (Gravity Falls) have the same relationship as Carrot Ironfoundersson and Samuel Vimes (Discworld, Ankh-Morpork Watch series)

Both are highly principled and arguably naïve despite knowing more than they let on, both handle logistical things so their bosses don't have to, and both hold their bosses to immensely high moral standards despite the fact that both bosses are crotchety anti-authoritarian old men at a low point in their lives who'd rather be doing something else

[legok9]

I made a list of every actor with LEGO Minifigures for multiple characters!

Here are some highlights:

Harrison Ford was the first actor to get 2 minifigures back in 2008. He finally got his third figure in 2024:

Voice actor Dee Bradley Baker has the record with (at least) 23 minifigures, including 14 Clone Troopers:

Warwick Davis has 6 minifigures, the record for exclusively live-action roles:

Cate Blanchett has the most minifigures for an actress in live-action roles:

Samuel L. Jackson has 4 minifigures for four iconic roles:

Jeff Goldblum (because Jeff Goldblum):

Alan "I went to Julliard" Tudyk:

Some actors have played multiple versions of the same character:

Many Batman actors are on the list:

The Four Chrises make the list:

Explore the list yourself and post your favorites!

[unopenablebox]

there are of course thousands of fanfics where someone is rendered wildly OOC, often by becoming far too nice and good at expressing emotion, in order to seamlessly facilitate their transformation into the protagonist of a romance. but it's really really really funny when the person they do that to is mace windu.

[misc-muses]

"Welcome to a world of Mystery--" Oh. It's just this guy again.

"Look, pal, if you're lookin' for my brother, he isn't here. An', uh... popsicles are $10 each." Ignore the sign that says free. It's a mirage from the heat. "You buyin' one or gettin' lost?" -- @maykrisms liked for a starter

[moviemosaics]

The Kill Room

directed by Nicol Paone, 2023

[tinfoil-jones]

So is the Archivist another Ford, or is he his own entity?

S mentioned in: [1], [2]

The (Cosmic) Archivist "S" is not an alternate Ford. He is an alternate take on Shifty the Shapeshifter by @tearosepedall.

You can find S being depicted on their profile on this post, and this post: specifically here, and here.

The Artist: "I uploaded the sketch with him and Watchdog out of context on Twitter. But most of his sketches are confined in my person because simply put. Tumblr hates me (My art doesn't appear on the tags).

If he's not around the Fords he is more emotionally neutral to a lot of stuff so it will take a lot to make him upset. The Fords (+ Lee) just brings out the emotion in him.

S[-----]'s narrative purpose (at least to me) is to be the outsider looking in. A detached audience that can see in to the shenanigans of these peoples lives."

Here's some other art of him that Tearose has done:

[Likes to look at his family photos when he's homesick]

For fun, here is S[-----]'s and @nowimjustastranger's Fiddleford's reaction to Jerk Ford, Watchdog Ford, and Anti Ford all being 'allies' with each other (Jerk Ford and Watchdog refuse to say that they are friends).

S[-----] and Fiddleford: Why...

Fiddleford: -those two?

S[-----]: -him?

*Fiddleford and S look at each other*

---

When Jerk Ford returned to his dimension, he was a bit surprised that his version of Shifty's human persona (Wolfgang Von Doppelgänger) was different than The Archivist who he'd known for fifteen years, but their life circumstances were different so-.

Wait. There is an S[-----] going by the nickname "S" who isn't Shifty's human persona? Then who- Oh...

Shifty-PJC311's posts for context: [1], [2], [3]

[interstella-eyes]

✦ Finished a ref I made for my OC Alan!

Lore under cut (it’s a bit much to read lol)

Alan (he/him) is the main protagonist of the story I’m mainly working on. He’s a regular human, but has been afflicted with powers by Nathan (he/him), resulting in the purple markings on his skin. Nathan realized how much damage his curse had on his body and tried different things to get rid of it, including trying to give it to Alan, but it didn’t work out and only ended in negative side effects for both parties: Nathan’s curse spread much further from the amount of magic he used (and therefore he developed even worse health issues), and Alan ended up with a small fraction of Nathan’s powers. He is able to foresee the future through visions he receives every full moon in his sleep, but this is extremely agonizing, and he just wishes this never happened to him. This incident also led to a bond between Nathan’s and Alan’s minds, and therefore, they share the same lucid dreams.

Alan and Nathan also had a rough past together before the beginning of the story where they meet, but Nathan used a spell so Alan doesn’t recognize him in order to “get a new chance with him“ (which is as fucked up as it sounds), but after their mind bond Alan remembers and all their past drama is brought up again

[letterboxd-loggd]

Park Row (1952) Samuel Fuller

March 21st 2024

[faithful-grigori]

”#YES!#ford even has the tree last name! he's a professor in spirit!, #and there's even a wooper there because it's the axolotl pokemon 🥺”

what a coincidence! i also study anomalous creatures with strange and dangerous abilities!

[thevillainswhore]

Loverboy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Bucky, a lovesick, pining super soldier, vows to keep his feelings for you a secret — no matter how obvious his crush may seem. Those plans are ruined between a meddling Sam, an embarrassing fall, and a visit to the medbay with you.

Warnings: Avengers AU, Bucky’s POV, fluff, crack (my lame attempt at comedy), suggestive thoughts (no smut), just our boy being a lovesick little bean with a big ol’ crush.

Author’s Note: Dividers by @saradika. Proofread by @buckys-wintersoldier, thank you so much sweetie, I love you!! This was inspired by a wonderful request from @prettyboy56, thank you so much! Hope you enjoy x

“Hi, Bucky.” 

Instantly, he sputtered over his mouthful of cereal, eyes watering from his food going down the wrong way. 

Bucky knew that melodic voice before his gaze even reached its owner. You entered the kitchen, wiggling your fingers at him in greeting. 

Clearing his throat, he swiped his bowl to the side, his breakfast now forgotten about, and directed his attention solely onto you. “Hi—um h—hello, doll.” 

The muscles of your cheeks lifted up to your eyes in a smile that made Bucky swoon. Hard.

Your eyes fell to Sam then, who stood in the corner, fresh from a workout with a shit eating on his face. “Good morning, Samuel.” 

“Mornin’, beautiful. How did you sleep?” 

Bucky fought the growl rising in his throat, the unprecedented possessiveness caving its way through its internal barriers in your presence. 

You grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and closed the door, leaning your back against it to take a big gulp. 

“Not bad at all.” You licked your lips, ridding the dryness that came from a long slumber before your eyes lit up. “Oh, by the way! I drank some of that tea you recommended. It’s helped a bunch—”

Bucky zoned out while you continued to express your gratitude to Sam. He couldn’t help the way his eyes dilated as he rested his head in the palm of his vibranium hand, a lovesick sigh escaping his lips. You were just so gorgeous – a deity in human form right in front of his own very eyes. Bucky had never considered himself so lucky in all his time on earth to be within your vicinity. 

In his own world of oggling, Bucky didn’t notice how the conversation fell short between you and Sam. Neither did he realise how the two of you were staring at him; you with concern and Wilson smothering his laughter with his hand. 

“Bucky? Sweetheart?” He finally registered that you were speaking to him and almost choked, again, on his own spit.

“Mhm?” Bucky murmured, drunk off your attention. 

You smiled once again, so devastatingly beautiful that his left arm whirred in stupor. “Are you okay? You feeling alright?” Not waiting for a response, you walked over to him and Bucky almost let his eyes roll to the back of his head when you lifted your wrist to his forehead. “Jeez, you’re a little hot, Buck.” 

Sam keeled over in hysterics, unable to keep his composure any longer. Meanwhile, a bright red blossom of colour rose up from the skin of Bucky’s neck all the way up to his cheeks. 

Had Bucky not been embarrassingly infatuated by you, the throwaway comment wouldn’t have had any effect on him. But this was you. The woman who had the ability to make him melt on the spot. 

While logic and a basic level of common sense screamed at him that you were talking about his temperature, his mind could only conjure up the fact you had called him hot. 

Bucky saw your mouth moving, however he couldn’t concentrate on the sound of the words coming out of it. You were still touching him, patting his cheeks and sweeping the tendrils of hair that had fell out from behind his ears out of his face. The close proximity of your bodies threw him through a loop and without even realising, his thighs spread further, subconsciously begging you to forego all boundaries and smother yourself against him. 

Gently tapping his nose three times, you managed to gain his full attention again. “You seem out of it, sweetie. Maybe you should go down to the medbay. See if you’re coming down with a fever or something.” 

Sam blew out a breath of air. “Yeah, because that’s what’s wrong with him.” 

You threw a lighthearted glare his way before bringing your eyes back to Bucky. “Promise me you’ll get seen to?” 

How could he refuse when you asked so sweetly? “Anything you want.” He vowed sincerely. 

Scrunching your nose, you chucked his chin and whispered under your breath, “Good boy.”

Bucky almost whimpered when you withdrew your hands and stepped back. He so desperately wanted to follow you and nudge your arm until you paid attention to him once more. Your touch was fire and a cool breeze all at once. Electricity that created static across his stubbled cheek, yet also stoked a warmth through his entire body.  

Peace. He’d never felt anything like it. Never before felt drunk from just the delicate essence of a perfume or experienced the loosening of his limbs, relaxing until his legs felt like jelly whenever you so much as cast him a glance. 

You grabbed a piece of fruit from the table, ready to go down to the gym and train. “Catch you later, Sam,” you called over your shoulder. Meeting Bucky’s eyes a final time, you winked while you headed for the elevator. “Bye, sweetheart.”  

Bucky’s gaze was glued to you, following you out hopelessly until you were completely out of sight. 

He was fucked — well and truly out of his depth. 

Sam crossed his arms and smirked. “You are down bad, man.” 

Bucky swiped a hand over his face, sighing deeply. “Fuckin’ tell me about it.” 

“This is serious.” Sam sobered up, his lips softening into an honest smile. 

With an embarrassingly loud thud against the island countertop, Bucky let his head drop. “I have no idea what to do, Sam. I thought this crush would have passed by now but it’s been months.”

“Well,” Sam raised an eyebrow. “Have you even tried asking her out?” 

“And why would I do that?” Bucky asked, genuinely confused. 

Sam sputtered over his words. “What do you mean—Because that’s what people do when they like someone, you dumbass!” 

Bucky had lost enough braincells daydreaming about you constantly. He didn’t need to be told what he already knew. But the pressure of asking you out to then have a chance of being rejected? He would never come back from that. “Yeah, no thanks,” he mumbled.

“Come on, man. What’s the worst that could happen?” Sam asked. 

Bucky lifted his head up and huffed sarcastically. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe she could turn me down and rip my heart out into little pieces, so much that I would hide out in my room for the rest of eternity never to be seen again?” 

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

Bucky sighed longingly. “Let me wallow in my misery alone, Sam.” 

“Why? So you can spend your days staring at her with your googly eyes and drooling over her.” 

“I have never drooled over her,” Bucky snarled. 

A twinkle shone in Sam’s eye, a mischievous grin donning his face. “Then what’s that on your chin?” 

Bucky’s eyes widened and he quickly brought his hand up to his face to check if he did in fact have any wetness coating his mouth. Finding none, he looked back to Sam with a scowl. “I hate you.”

Sam shook his head with laughter. “You shouldn’t make it so easy to tease you, loverboy.”  

With a growl, Bucky lifted from his seat and stormed out of the kitchen. 

The irritating voice followed him. “Don’t forget training tomorrow morning, loverboy!” 

The sun was shining over the compound the next morning and so came the bright idea from Steve that all exercise activities should be held outside. While the recruits in training buffed up on their sparring with the Captain, the rest of the avengers worked out as they saw fit. 

As usual, Sam took any opportunity possible to annoy Bucky, which brought them together, running laps around the outdoor track. 

“When are you gonna man up and ask her out then, Cyborg? Pretty girl ain’t gonna be available forever.” 

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure why he didn’t run ahead of Sam. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t. Maybe the pace he kept alongside Wilson allowed him to stare at you so clearly in your tight workout leggings and sports bra as sweat sensually rolled over your skin. Maybe. 

“I’m not asking her out, Sam. Drop it.” 

Sam huffed out an annoyed breath. “Listen, man. It’s not as if you’ve got nothing going for you. As much as you’re a grumpy shit, you’ve got them blue eyes the chicks love. Gets them all gooey when you give them intense eye contact, y’know?” He reluctantly added, “And they dig the brooding, bad boy, leather jacket vibe.”

Bucky let out a rare smile within the presence of Sam. “You tryna hit on me, Wilson?” 

“Look, all I’m saying is you have a chance.” Sam slyly glanced over the field. “And if you don’t quit fuckin’ around, that chance is gonna disappear.”  

The smile instantly dropped from Bucky’s face. “What do you mean by that?” 

Sam’s signature smirk came back with vengeance. “Your girls lookin’ kinda cute today. So I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but you ain’t the only one who’s got their eye on her.” 

Naturally, Bucky followed his instinct and let his eyes look over at you. You were a fucking wonder, of course he knew that. But heeding Sam’s ominous warning, Bucky allowed his gaze to venture out, only allowing you to blur into the background for a couple of seconds while he took stock of the other male, and female, recruits. 

Low and behold, plenty of other people wantonly stared at you while you completed your circuit, almost salivating over their barely concealed pining. As much as Bucky hated to admit it, the fucker was right. You were the pinnacle of everyone’s attention. 

With the way you were bending over, squatting and looking like an angel amidst the perspiration the sun brought on, Bucky wasn’t sure if he could actually blame anyone for it. 

That didn’t stop the ugly, green eyed beast within him that wanted to tear everyone’s eyes out for daring to glimpse at you. 

It was silly, he knew he had no right to feel any sort of possessive nature for you. Unfortunately, you didn’t belong to him. Still, he couldn’t control the deep rooted urges that whispered the kinds of fun he’d have gouging out eyeballs that looked where they weren't supposed to. 

Knowing he had stirred the pot enough, Sam figured it was time to try and hit the final nail in the coffin in order to make his friend move his ass. “Y’know what gives you an advantage though, man?” 

Bucky continued to death stare the surrounding agents, while keeping up with his steady jog. “What’s that?”

“Guess who’s making eyes at you right now.” 

At breakneck speed, Bucky snapped his head back around to you, only to indeed find you staring at him with a fire in your eyes and your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. 

A violent shudder ran down his spine and for a moment, the whole world stopped on its axis, allowing Bucky to revel in a daydream brought to life. 

That was until his mind snapped him back into the present. The super soldier was majestic on his feet in a fight, graceful yet utterly dangerous out on the field even with the pressure a mission came with. 

However to his utter bewilderment, you happened to be the most dangerous being he had ever come across, because in all of his years as a trained, professional assassin, Bucky had never, never, tripped over his own feet. 

And so, inevitably, Bucky’s face ungracefully met the asphalt of the outside track with an audible thunk. 

A collective of gasps, oo’s, and ah’s, rang around the large group. Bucky could physically feel the coating of red, hot embarrassment climbing up to his now scratched cheeks.  

Bucky couldn’t see the look of shame and pity on Sam’s face as he dropped his head into his hands. All he was capable of was fantasizing faking his own death and moving far, far away where no one who witnessed his fall could ever find him.  

With a painful, deep groan, Bucky managed to roll himself over. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes and allow himself to accept reality yet and so he kept them closed, waiting for the ground to swallow him up or for the beaming sun to slowly incinerate him, melt him into the ground with his shame and dignity. 

But instead of either of those, a shadow casted over him, the harsh brightness behind his eyelids dulling down. Slowly, he peeked an eye open, only for mortification to kick him in the gut when he found you standing over him. 

“You alright there, Soldier?” Your hands were set on your hips, those deliciously curved grooves of your body that he had shamelessly stared at one too many times during gym sessions. 

“Mhm,” he gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing roughly. “Just peachy.” 

Even though you’d just seen him eat dirt, in front of hundreds of learning recruits and the rest of the avengers, your smile was kind as you held out your hand. “Need some help?” 

Bucky took your offering, sliding his clammy palm into your dry one and hoisted himself up with your grip. He hadn’t needed your help, he was a super soldier with a metal arm; an agility and strength beyond normal human ability. But he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to feel your soft skin against his. 

He couldn’t look you in the eye as he stood up, aware of your gaze glued to him. “Th-Thanks.” 

“It’s not a problem,” you said. “Although, you’ve got a few nasty looking cuts on your cheeks.” 

Bucky brought his left hand up to his face, hissing when the cool vibranium stung the open wounds. “Ah, it’s nothin’—don't worry about it. Nothing a few hours won’t fix.” 

You shook your head fondly. “Well, how about I walk you to the infirmary and we get some ointment on them? It wouldn’t hurt to be cautious.” 

Bucky choked on his own spit and snapped his eyes to yours. “W-We?” 

Your smile was blinding — so beautiful with an ability to stop time. At least for him anyway. “Yeah, why not? It looks like you could use a hand—y’know, since you’re a little clumsy on your feet today.” The cheeky smirk that followed your words almost sent him to an early grave.

His cheeks blazed. Bucky was sure he looked utterly stupid, with his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. But he couldn’t help the effect you had on him. “I um—I— ha, I guess.” 

Your eyes glinted mischievously. “I’ll take that as a yes?” 

Not trusting his voice to hold steady, Bucky simply nodded. 

“Great,” you approved. “Just one question though, are we going to keep holding hands on the way?”

Looking down to the space between you, Bucky felt his mouth dry when he saw that he hadn’t yet released his hand from yours. “I’m—oh fuck—I’m so sorry.” 

Still, he made no move to slacken his grip. 

You tightened your lips, and he knew you were willing yourself not to laugh for his sake. Sam would have a fucking field day with this. 

Though to his surprise, instead of pulling away like he expected you to, you began pulling him along, hands still interweaved. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, Bucky.”  

His name on your lips was akin to a siren singing her song; dragging helpless seamen to their deaths. A thought crossed his mind then, that he didn’t think he would mind so much if he sank to his reckoning, not if your voice was the last thing he ever heard. 

“Okay.” Bucky followed you blindly, eyes glued to your conjoined hands and disbelieving of his luck. 

You had led the way towards the medbay and found a cozy, private room that the doctors used for small injuries. Bucky sat impatiently on the side of the medical bed, twiddling his thumbs and fidgeting restlessly. Never had he been so close to you, alone. 

Bucky internally prayed with all his faith that you couldn’t hear the rapid staccato of his heartbeat. He was sure if he was hooked up to a monitor, the doctors would be thoroughly concerned about his health. 

Finally having gathered all the supplies you deemed necessary along with a first aid box, you walked back over to the bed and dumped everything next to him. 

“So,” you began, an uneasy conspiratorial tone to your voice that weirdly reminded him of Sam. “Wanna tell me what happened out there?”  

“I—,” Bucky sheepishly scratched the back of his neck while his cheeks bloomed crimson red. “I must’ve just tripped over my own feet.” 

He tried to shrug off his nonchalance, but he knew by your raised eyebrow you didn’t believe him. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing a big, strong super soldier such as yourself has any trouble finding his footing.”

Before Bucky could muster up any other excuse but the truth, you ripped open the packet of a medical wipe and warned him, “I’m sorry. This is gonna sting.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said with bravado. 

Bucky wasn’t prepared for the twinkle in your eye as you mumbled under your breath, “I’m sure it isn’t, Sargeant.” 

The breath got knocked out of his lungs. Oh did that do things to him. 

Suddenly, vivid images of you spread out on his bed wearing nothing but his old army hat while you screamed out his rank ran wild in his mind. 

Luckily, you were too preoccupied with cleaning the dried blood of his wound to notice him discreetly palming the bulge in his athletic shorts, trying to hide the effect you had on him. 

“Are you certain there is absolutely no other reason as to why I’m playing nurse right now, then?” Your feline grin was sexy and scary. “No possible distractions that led you off path?” 

There was no way you could read minds, right? Bucky doubled down on his denial, shaking his head from side to side and letting the length of his hair hide the truth in his eyes. 

“I’ll take your word for it then.” You finished up and reached for the healing gel. “I know the serum enhances your ability to repair the cuts, but I’d still like to use this.” Looking into his eyes, you asked, “Only as long as you’re okay with that, of course.” 

Time stopped and the two of you were caught in the other’s gaze. It was such a small gesture, one you probably didn’t even realise meant the world to him. But you asked him for permission on something that would affect his autonomy and if Bucky didn’t already have a hundred ways he was falling for you, that would have been the cherry on top. 

“Yeah,” he breathed airily. “Yeah, I’m good with it, doll.” 

Unseen to him before, you ducked your head and sweeped your hair behind your ear and if Bucky didn’t know any better, he was sure you were shy. 

He couldn’t help the large grin he sported. He was always so enamored with you, quick to falter in your presence and become unsure of himself. Right now though, a small bout of bravery returned. “Ready when you are,” he cheekily murmured. 

You hastily rushed to compose yourself. Clearing your throat, you squeezed the tube of gel, allowing a small drop of the cool liquid on the tip of your finger and stepped between his legs to gently dab it onto his cuts. 

“Okay, you’re all fixed up now.” With a last swipe of his forehead, you smiled. “Don’t worry, Buck. You still look handsome.” 

He tugged his plump bottom lip between his teeth. “You think I’m handsome?”

You giggled. “I would be blind if I didn’t.” 

Bucky blinked at you slowly, still processing your words and trying to calm the excited bubble rising in his throat. 

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, don’t act all coy, Bucky. You must have heard the whispers of the recruits. They stare at you all the time, whispering and giggling to each other.” 

With the most confidence he had ever mustered up, he responded, “Truthfully, I’m too busy staring at someone else to notice, doll.” 

The shock of his sudden boldness was glaringly obvious on your face — it was you this time who held your mouth open, lost for words. 

Bucky’s body screamed at him to tell you that he was in fact head over heels for you. That had he known falling over in front of the full compound would lead him within a hair’s breadth away from you, he’d do it all over again. 

But you seemed to recover after a couple of seconds, clearing your throat and making yourself busy to avoid his eyes. “So, I’ve got another question.” 

“Oh?” Bucky cocked his head. 

“Yeah.” You smiled while placing everything back into the first aid box as you found it. “I’ve been hearing a few rumours around the compound recently.” 

Bucky’s stomach dropped with dread. 

“You wouldn’t know anything about those, would you?” 

“I—” Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat. “I have no idea what you mean.” 

“Oh,” you hummed. “So it’s not true then? You don’t have a crush on me?” 

Fuck.

Panicking, Bucky scoffed, though it came off sounding too pathetic, too breezy. “Me? Have a crush on you? That’s—Ha! Nope. No way. Not at all.” 

He watched as you nodded to yourself. Internally, he was begging for the floor to swallow him while he cringed at his own stupidity. 

“Well,” you shrugged. “That’s a shame, I guess.”  

Bucky’s head shot up, eyes wide and shock written over his features. “E-Excuse me?” 

“Oh, it's nothing really.” There was a sparkle in your eye that screamed trouble. “You said you didn’t have a crush on me, so it doesn’t matter.” 

Within seconds, Bucky jumped off the bed and leapt towards you, not even noticing how he had grabbed your hands. “Doll, please. You can’t leave a guy hanging like that.” 

Playfully rolling your eyes, you dramatically exhaled and decided to put him out of his misery. “Leave you hanging? Damn, Buck. It’s not as if I’ve been waiting patiently for you to ask me out for months or anything like that.” 

The air became humid and stuffy and suddenly the clothes attached to Bucky’s body felt too tight and restricting. “You—What now?” 

You rolled your lips inwards, trying to smother your laughter. “Bucky, honey,” you gently murmured. “I’ve heard what the others have been gossiping about. I’ve definitely heard Sam telling the team about your crush on me.” 

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. “That fuckin’ punk.” 

You squeezed his hands reassuringly and offered him a warm smile when he looked at you. “I’ve just been waiting to hear it from the horse's mouth himself.” 

Bucky’s eyes darted between yours, trying to find any hint of decievement. “You’re serious.”

“Mhm,” you whispered. “Deadly.” 

It took him a couple of seconds to let the new information sink in. Clearing his throat, Bucky untightened his fierce grip on your hands and hesitantly slid them down to latch onto your waist. “So,” he mumbled. “Say if I asked you out to dinner tonight… You wouldn’t tell me I’m a fool and break my heart into a million pieces?” 

Butterflies erupted in Bucky’s stomach at the sensation of your hands sliding over his chest to rest against his neck. “No, Bucky,” you chuckled. “I would tell you that I’m looking forward to our first date, tonight. Nowhere fancy, just casual. Six o’clock sharp.” 

Bucky smiled, all beaming and ecstatic. “I wouldn’t dream of being late.” 

“Good.” You leaned up onto your tip toes and ghosted your lips over his ear. “See you very soon then, Sargeant.” 

Tingles shot down Bucky’s spine and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He fought tooth and nail to crush the moan that rose up his throat and in his internal struggle, he missed how you’d sneakily slipped out of his hold and started to saunter towards the door. 

He almost begged you to come back; the thought of having to wait for you until the evening was unbearable. But those pesky butterflies that invaded his stomach came back strong and fierce as his gaze became glued to the sway of your hips and the sweet perfume that lingered in your exit. 

“Oh,” you stopped suddenly at the doorway and looked over your shoulder. “One more thing. Don’t go tripping over again, you hear me?” You raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Can’t have you falling for me.”

Your damn smirk was intoxicating and Bucky thought himself the luckiest fella alive to be the one taking you out. He licked his lips and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m afraid I’m gonna have a little trouble with that request, Ma’am.” 

The clench of your thighs was unmissable. The way your eyes dilated called to him. Bucky had more game than he realised and he kept that new information tucked safely into the corner of his mind for a later date. 

You didn’t reply. You didn’t need to. Your actions told Bucky everything he needed to know and so he wiggled his fingers with a huge grin locked onto his face and watched you longingly as you left his sight. 

The minute he couldn’t hear your footsteps any longer, Bucky pumped his fist up into the air and began dancing on the spot. 

In his own bubble of happiness, he didn’t hear the footsteps of a new person entering the hallway. Only when an amused clearing of the throat echoed from the doorway did Bucky abruptly stop his dancing and slowly swivel to the intruder. 

Sam stood there, all cocky and mirthful with a shit eating grin on his face. “About time you bagged the girl, man. Dont’cha think?” 

Instantly, Bucky growled and grabbed the closest apparatus. With a pair of medical scissors, he charged towards Sam, who was quick to wipe the smirk off his face and skid out of the room with a scream.