#bucky is pushing 90

[cosmos-coma]

Sleep Deprived

A/N: still alive!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1005

Warnings: Unedited, Toot-Rotting fluff :)

Summary: You are far too nice and cannot seem to say no when the team keeps asking you for favors. Now you're ridiculously sleep-deprived and Bucky is determined for you to finally get some rest. (Grumpy Bucky X Sunshine Reader)

Bucky Masterlist

Buy me a Coffee?

_____

Kindness had always been something you prided yourself on; your willingness to help and be patient with others had almost always done you well, but sometimes you were just too nice

First, it was helping Nat go through her old paperwork late one night; she had been in an absolute rush trying to find this old file before the deadline and you didn’t even think of refusing. Then it was Tony, who all but forced you to fill in for one of his lab techs in an overnight experiment. Then Steve wanted help with some confounded modern technology that Sam swore he didn’t have the time to teach him. 

On top of it all you had hardly been sleeping the last few nights anyway.

Where you once felt vibrant and bright was now filled with far-distant gazes and tired smiles. Not that you really noticed, right now you were only focused on opening your eyes again after each agonizingly heavy blink. 

“Y/N are you sure you want to come?” Steve asked, “You look like you could use a 90-year sleep…” he commented with a quiet huff of laughter. 

You barely even registered the joke, instead just smiling sleepy on instinct to his small laugh, “I’m sure, I really do want to go. I promise I’ll be okay once we get going” you assured. The team had been planning this outing for weeks now and you swore you wouldn’t miss it. Not only that but you really didn’t want to miss out on a chance to spend a little more time with Bucky outside of work. 

He had snared you at the very first moment and he didn’t even know it. His bright blue eyes had turned away from their conversation, a small frown on his lips from whatever had just been said, and turned to you instead- jolting you with a force you couldn’t have foreseen. Ever since then your heart had been hooked, its strings unwillingly tangled by the smallest interactions.

Not you’d ever admit that to anybody.

“Doll, I really think you should consider staying home and getting some rest…” your heart thrummed as Bucky spoke, his arms crossed over his chest as he gave you a look. 

But you only held up your hands, smiling your assurances as you spoke, “I can last a few more hours..! I’ll take a nap as soon as we get back, but I’m sure I’ll last.” 

The other members of the team only looked at each other, sharing doubtful glances but nodding nonetheless- if you really wanted to go they weren’t going to try and stop you. 

“Alright then,” Nat said with a shrug and stood up, “let’s all head out then.”

Everyone stood up at once and you followed suit, your vision swimming as you stood up far too fast. “Whoa.. um, I mean… Whoo! Yeah, let’s do this…!” You took a staggering step forward. You refused to look like you couldn’t keep up and so you pushed through, giving yourself no time for recovery. 

Thankfully there was still one person watching you. Bucky stood up to follow, lingering by your side as the others moved on ahead. He’d tell himself it was purely to watch over you, but he couldn’t deny the lingering urge to be near you. Ever since your first day at the tower when you flashed your annoyingly bright smile at him… he knew he’d never be able to think of anything else. 

You stumbled but quickly caught yourself, your breathing ragged and worn as your body begged for rest. “Doll, please-“ but he didn’t have a chance to finish as you stumbled towards the ground yet again. 

Strong hands shot out to catch you, your body almost completely limp in his firm grasp. “Oh I…” you started, struggling to keep your consciousness and your breath, “Sorry… I’m okay….”

But Bucky only frowned and shook his head,  his hands scooping you up bridal style and he turned to the rest of the team who had stopped to turn back, “You guys go ahead. We’re gonna stay here and get some rest.” He said as he walked back toward the couch, acting as if holding you against his chest was the most natural thing in the world. 

“You don’t have to do that, Bucky…” you mumbled against his chest, your body more than happy to sink into him. 

“Shh, yes I do…” he spoke quietly, the whole room settling into a calm quiet as the rest of the team headed out the door, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Doll… I know you want to be nice, but you’re only gonna wind up hurt.” He chided as he took a seat on the couch and laid back against the armrest. 

Thanks to your lack of sleep you had no shame in rolling on top of him, your cheek squishing against his chest as you let out a tired huff. “I’m not.. good at saying no…” you murmured with eyes closed, sleep coming on fast in your comfortable state. 

The grumpy ex-soldier grinned despite himself, your sweet smooshed face stirring something in his old heart. He pulled a blanket off the top of the couch, draping it over the two of you as you seemed to be in the last thralls of consciousness.

“Bucky…?”

“Yes, Doll?”

“Will you be here when I wake up…? Please..?” Your soft voice asked, your fingers curling around his shirt in an effort to make him stay- but he didn’t need any swaying. 

A grin, as bright as your own, broke through his expression, and he nodded quietly, “I’ll be right here, Doll. I promise you….”

---

And he kept his promise. 

Hours later the rest of the team had finally returned, initially boisterous and full of laughter, they were quickly quieted down by the sight before them. 

There on the couch you and Bucky continued to lay, his strong arms wrapped firmly around your frame with his sleeping face tucked into the top of your head. 

_____________________________

General Bucky Taglist:

@writingmysanity @simpxinnie @goldylions

If I missed or accidentally tagged you lmk! Wanna be added General Bucky taglist? Please ask/DM me!

[rootedinrevisions]

Kinktober 2024: Day 30

CHARACTER: Tyler Owens

KINK: Car Sex (Truck Sex)

WORD COUNT: 1.2K

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT (biting, p in v sex, semi in public/where you could get caught)

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists or be tagged for a specific character please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Twisters (Mostly Tyler right now, but possibly others soon)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

The low rumble of the truck as you cruise along the highway is oddly comforting, blending with the soft tunes of 90s country coming through the radio. Tyler drums his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, one arm stretched casually along the top, his hand dangerously close to where you’re sitting. His confidence is effortless—grounded, but with a spark of mischief in his eyes whenever he glances your way. After getting caught in that rainstorm, he’d shot you a grin and shrugged it off, wet t-shirt and all. But it had left you flustered, noticing every inch of him in ways you usually tried to keep to yourself.

“So,” he starts, breaking the comfortable silence. “Worth the detour for that burger, huh?”

You let out a laugh, grateful for the chance to ease some of the tension building between you two. “Absolutely. I think I would’ve wasted away if we’d just gone straight back.”

He chuckles, glancing at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road. The wet fabric of his t-shirt clings to him as if daring you not to look, showing off the muscle in his shoulders, the veins on his forearms.

“You okay over there?” he asks, his voice teasing but warm. The mischievous look in Tyler's eyes is unmistakable, even if he’s trying to keep his focus on the road. 

But then you decide two can play this game. Your lips curve into a smirk before you adjust in your seat, letting yourself have a little more room to lean over the console.

When your hand first rests on his knee, he seems amused, even relaxed, but when your fingers start to move upward, you notice his jaw tense slightly, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. 

The subtle power in his reaction emboldens you, and you can’t help but push things just a little further.

Your fingers trail over his thigh, brushing the front of his jeans. You feel him tense under your touch, his breath catching slightly, and then you catch the slight shake of his head, paired with a low chuckle.

He clears his throat. "Now, just what do you think you're up to?" His voice is low, rougher than before, laced with both amusement and a touch of restraint. You glance up, meeting his gaze, feigning innocence with a small shrug.

"Up to?" you say, keeping your voice as light as possible. "I'm just sitting here. What do you think I’m doing?"

Tyler’s hand, still resting over yours, gives another squeeze, this time firmer, his thumb tracing over your knuckles.

“I think,” he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “you know exactly what you're doing.” He releases his hand from yours just long enough to turn up the music, using it as an excuse to adjust his posture—maybe to regain a bit of control.

You flash him a playful smile. "Oh, come on, Tyler. I thought you liked it when I kept you on your toes."

His laugh is warm, a little breathy. “Trust me, I do.” He pauses, his eyes cutting over to you with a look that’s both soft and intense. “Just not when I’m driving, sweetheart.”

The growl that escapes Tyler’s lips is low and guttural as you press kisses into his neck, your teeth grazing the sensitive spots you know drive him wild. His breaths come shorter, more strained, and he shifts in his seat, trying to focus on the road as you continue your teasing, unrelenting.

“Baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with warning, “if you don’t stop, I swear…” But even as he says it, his hips move up instinctively to meet the pressure of your hand. He’s torn between maintaining control and giving in, and the internal struggle shows in every flex of his jaw, every grip of his hands as he tries to hold on.

You lean up, letting your breath brush against his ear. “Relax, Tyler. I trust you,” you whisper, your voice teasing, knowing full well that your words make it even harder for him to resist.

With a low curse, he tries once more, his tone nearly pleading, “Honey, you’re gonna make us crash.” But even as he says it, his body betrays him, pressing into your hand with increasing urgency. His breath hitches as you run your fingers along the front of his jeans again, this time applying more pressure. His body leans into yours, the tension nearly vibrating between you.

He finally pulls his hand from the wheel just long enough to grab your wrist, halting your movements. 

"Alright," he says, a slight tremor in his voice, eyes still locked forward, his grip firm but full of unspoken promise. “You’re going to pay for that when we get back.”

You then hear Tyler and sigh and curse under his breath as he glances at the rearview mirror. You watch him start to slow the truck and pull over to the shoulder of the highway. You glance through the back window and see the unmistakable red and blue lights of a police officer.

The moment Tyler pulls the truck over, the tension shifts from playful to cautious. You can see the way his expression tightens as he watches the officer approach the window. The flashing red and blue lights reflect off the dashboard, casting a pulsing glow that heightens the mood in the cab.

“Just stay calm,” you murmur, trying to reassure him as you lean back in your seat, your heart still racing from your earlier teasing. Tyler nods, his jaw set as he rolls down the window, the humid air rushing in, mingled with the scent of rain.

The officer bends slightly to peer into the cab, his demeanor professional but relaxed. “Evening, sir. I need to see your license and registration.”

Tyler fumbles with the glove compartment, glancing nervously at you as he retrieves the documents. You pass them to him, your fingers brushing against his in a moment that feels all too intimate given the circumstances. He hands the documents out the window, maintaining eye contact with the officer.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?” the officer asks, his voice steady as he inspects the papers.

“Um, I’m guessing it’s because I was speeding?” Tyler replies, a hint of a nervous chuckle in his tone. You can see the flush creeping up his neck as the officer raises an eyebrow.

“You were weaving a bit too, which is why I stopped you. Have you been drinking tonight?”

Tyler shakes his head vigorously. “No, sir. Not at all. Just trying to get back to the motel before that storm hits.” He gestures vaguely toward the darkening sky, which is heavy with rain clouds.

The officer narrows his eyes, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve been speeding and weaving for several miles. I’d like to know what really happened back there. You weren't on your phone were you?”

You shift in your seat, biting your lip to suppress a grin at Tyler’s awkwardness. He looks over at you for a split second, searching for inspiration, then takes a deep breath, his confidence wavering slightly.

“Honestly, I was just trying to outrun the storm,” he continues, though it sounds more like a half-hearted excuse than a real explanation. “I thought I could make it to the motel before it hit.”

The officer studies him, and you can sense the moment he sees through the facade. “You realize that speeding is dangerous, especially in this weather?”

Tyler nods, his expression earnest. “I know, I know. I didn’t mean to—I just got caught up in the moment. This one here’s a little afraid of storms. I was just trying to get her back to the hotel, and I didn’t realize how fast I was going.”

There’s a slight pause as the officer glances between Tyler and you. You can see the wheels turning in his mind as he assesses the situation, perhaps weighing whether to let Tyler off with a warning or to issue a ticket.

“Alright, hang tight for a minute,” the officer finally says, stepping back to his patrol car.

Tyler sinks back into his seat, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Well, that went better than expected,” he mutters, though the humor in his voice is overshadowed by the unease lingering in the air.

You watch him closely, noticing how the blush on his cheeks deepens as he tries to make light of the situation. “You could’ve just told him we were getting carried away in the truck,” you tease.

Tyler shoots you a look, half-grinning. “And risk getting us both in trouble? No thanks.”

A few tense minutes pass before the officer returns, a speeding ticket in hand. “Here you go, sir. Just drive a little more carefully next time,” he advises, his tone firm but not unkind. “You’re free to go.”

“Thank you, officer,” Tyler replies, his voice steady as he takes the ticket.

As Tyler pulls back onto the highway, the silence in the truck feels heavier than before. You notice the way his jaw is clenched tight, a contrast to the usual relaxed demeanor he carries. His grip on the steering wheel is firm, knuckles white against the red paint. You can sense the tension radiating from him, and it sends a flutter of nervous energy through you.

The muted sounds of the truck and the rhythmic thumping of rain against the windshield fill the air, amplifying the weight of the quiet. After several minutes of driving in silence, you decide it’s time to break the ice.

“Tyler, I—” you start, but he quickly shakes his head, cutting you off.

“Don’t,” he says firmly, though not unkindly, his eyes still fixed on the road ahead.

You bite your lip, feeling a mix of guilt and confusion. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you pulled over. I’ll pay the speeding ticket, I promise.”

At this, Tyler finally glances at you, a flicker of something playful sparking in his eyes. “Oh, you think that’s all it’s going to take? Just paying the ticket and calling it a day?” His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends your heart racing.

“What do you mean?” you ask, eyebrows raised, your curiosity piqued.

His lips curl into a smirk, the corner of his mouth quirking up just enough to hint at his mischievous side. “Let’s just say I have a different kind of punishment in mind for you once we get back to the hotel.”

You feel a heat rising to your cheeks at his words. The implication hangs in the air, thick and electric. You squeeze your legs together, suddenly aware of how your body reacts to his playful threat.

“Oh, really?” you manage to say, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rush of excitement coursing through you.

“Yeah, really.” He finally turns his head to look at you, and his gaze is intense, filled with a mix of confidence and something deeper. “I think you need a reminder about what happens when you play around like that while I’m driving.”

Your breath hitches slightly at the way he says it, each word laced with an underlying promise. The thought of being alone with him in the privacy of your motel room makes your heart race even faster. You can already imagine the way he might hold you, the playful banter turning into something much more heated.

“And what kind of reminder do you have in mind?” you challenge, a playful smile tugging at your lips, emboldened by the way he looks at you.

He chuckles softly, the tension in his jaw easing just a bit. “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough. Just know it won’t be easy for you,” he replies, the playful edge in his voice making your pulse quicken even more.

Tyler’s sudden turn off the highway a few minutes later takes you by surprise. You watch as he pulls into a quiet rest stop, the lot deserted and shadowed under a dim streetlight. The familiar rumble of his truck’s engine fades as he shifts into park. His eyes remain fixed ahead for a moment, his jaw tense, but when he glances at you, there’s a spark there—a confident glint that’s all Tyler.

The sound of his belt coming undone pulls your attention fully to him. As he unzips his jeans and reaches down, revealing just how affected he is, your breath catches. This is a side of Tyler you've never seen quite like this. His usual easygoing confidence has morphed into something bolder, more assertive, and it sends a thrill straight through you.

“Shorts off,” he says, his voice a low command, his gaze intense as he meets your eyes. “Then get your pretty little ass over here. I've decided I don't want to wait.”

You feel your face start to turn red, taken aback by his tone but undeniably drawn in by it. He’s never been this forward, and it leaves you momentarily stunned. But then he raises an eyebrow, his eyes flicking to his lap, leaving no room for misinterpretation. You glance around, the empty lot eerily still and quiet, but the thrill of the situation overrides any hesitation.

Heart racing, you pop the button on your denim shorts, sliding them down your legs. Climbing over the console, you’re careful around the equipment scattered between you and Tyler, a reminder of the storm-chasing gear piled up in his truck. Finally, you settle onto his lap, your legs straddling him as his hands come to rest on your hips, grounding you there with a firm, possessive grip.

There’s a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips, and in that moment, Tyler’s gaze alone makes you feel as if you’re his entire world. The energy between you is electric, leaving no doubt that he’s completely in control—and you’re exactly where you want to be.

The atmosphere in the truck has completely shifted as Tyler leans his seat back to make a little more room, his grip firm on your hips, guiding you over him with steady, unyielding confidence.

Your pulse is racing as you straddle him, trying to ignore the thrill of being in such an exposed place. The dark, quiet lot around you seems to fade, leaving just you and Tyler in the cocoon of his truck.

As you sink down onto Tyler, his hands grip your hips with a possessiveness that sends a shiver through you. The initial stretch is intense, leaving you breathless, but Tyler doesn’t give you long to adjust. He bucks his hips up, pressing you fully against him, your bodies flush as he draws you into a rhythm that’s all-consuming. His arms wrap around your back, holding you close, making it feel like you’re the only two people in the world despite the thrill of the open parking lot.

Every movement becomes a test of restraint as his hands guide your hips, the friction pushing you closer to the edge. The weight of his body beneath you, the warmth of his skin, the scent of his cologne—it all heightens the intensity, and soon, your breaths are mingling, matching in urgency.

Tyler’s mouth finds the shell of your ear, and you hear his low, husky whisper, laced with a mix of adoration and authority. “You’re not allowed to finish until we’re back at the motel, you understand?” He murmurs, his voice firm. The promise of “punishment” hangs in the air, thickening the tension between you.

A thrill of rebellion flares up, daring you to ignore his words, but you catch his gaze, steady and knowing. Tyler’s eyes are locked on you, as if he’s memorizing every reaction, every gasp. 

He knows every inch of your body, every telltale sign of your nearing climax, and with every arch of your hips, he can sense your resolve slipping.

You feel yourself teetering right on the edge, one or two more movements of your hips and you know you could get yourself there, but is it worth the punishment that would come with it?

His mouth is close to your ear, his breath hot and unsteady. “Don’t even think about it,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, as he senses your resolve wavering. “Not until we’re back at the motel. Remember?”

A shiver runs through you, and it’s taking everything in you to keep from crossing the line, but the look on his face—equal parts teasing and commanding—keeps you hanging on. Tyler keeps up the rhythm, each movement an expert test of your self-control. The whole situation has you electrified, both daring and savoring the challenge he's given you.

He keeps his eyes locked on yours, his gaze unwavering. “Good girl,” he whispers approvingly, and the praise sends another shiver down your spine. 

Your eyes catch the faint glint of headlights in the distance, and your heart skips as you realize they're moving closer, aimed right at the rest stop.

You lean in, whispering urgently to Tyler, “Someone’s coming.”

Instead of slowing down or pulling back, Tyler’s grip tightens around your waist, his hands pressing you firmly against him as his eyes meet yours with a mischievous glint. “Then you’d better get me there fast,” he murmurs, voice dark and steady, daring you to rise to the challenge.

His hips thrust up, driving into you with an intensity that makes your head fall back, a loud, breathy moan slipping from your lips before you can stop it. You can feel him everywhere, his hands firm on your skin, his chest rising and falling under yours as the rhythm between you builds to a dizzying pace.

The headlights draw nearer, their beams glinting off the side mirrors, and with a low, guttural groan, Tyler buries himself deep, his entire body tensing beneath you. A shudder runs through him as he lets go, filling you completely, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. You feel him press his lips to your forehead as his hand starts to rub your back.

You carefully shift back over to the passenger seat, your cheeks flushed and your legs shaky, feeling the warmth of Tyler's release start to slip out, dampening your underwear. You quickly tug your shorts back on, fingers fumbling as you catch your breath. Glancing over, you see Tyler, his own breathing just settling, as he casually tucks himself back in, zipping his jeans and securing his belt as though nothing happened.

Once he’s ready, he flashes you a satisfied grin, throwing the truck back into gear and pulling out onto the highway, the hum of the engine filling the silence between you. You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips as you lean back in the seat, finally feeling your pulse slow.

“Am I forgiven yet?” you ask, your voice still a little breathless.

Tyler’s eyes flick over to you, his smirk deepening. “Forgiven?” He chuckles softly. “Sweetheart, that wasn’t punishment,” he says, reaching over to squeeze your thigh. “That was just the warm-up. You’ll get your real punishment when we get back to the motel.”

The anticipation makes you shiver, and you can’t help but squeeze your legs together, bracing for what’s to come.

[m4rv3l-girl]

Bubbles and Kisses

Bucky x Y/N

After a long day, Bucky takes care of his best girl.

Requests Open! (I can’t put in words how valued requests are to me, please leave one if you can, remember they can be anonymous! 🫶)

Warnings: Just a whole bunch of fluff!

The world had taken its toll on her today.

Y/N felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down as she pushed open the door to her apartment. Her feet ached from being trapped in heels all day, and the steady hum of city life in her ears hadn’t stopped since dawn. Her only thought was to find him.

“Bucky?” she called out, a hopeful streak in her voice.

It took just a second for his voice to carry through the hall. “In here, Doll.”

Y/N followed the sound into the bedroom and paused, surprised by what she found. Bucky stood there, leaning casually against the doorway, his gaze warm and that lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Behind him, the bathroom glowed, soft candlelight casting a welcoming glow through the partially open door, and a steady wisp of steam rose from the crack, promising warmth and comfort.

Bucky crossed the room to her in a few slow strides, reaching out to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Rough day, huh, Kitten?”

“Brutal,” she murmured, her shoulders slumping as his thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand. The world felt lighter already.

“Well, I’ve got just the thing for that.” He held her hand, guiding her closer to the bathroom.

When he pushed open the door, she saw what he’d set up: a tub filled with steaming water and bubbles piled high, a collection of soft towels folded neatly on the counter, and her favorite fluffy pajamas waiting by the sink. He’d even put out her favorite slippers. The air was filled with lavender and vanilla.

She blinked, emotions swelling, though she tried to keep it light with a smirk. “You planning on joining me, Serge?”

“Oh, that’s absolutely the plan,” he murmured, lifting her hand to his lips. “If that’s alright with you, Doll.”

Without another word, Bucky shrugged off his shirt, jeans and boxers, his easygoing grin warming her heart even more. As they slipped into the water, she nestled back against his chest, feeling the strength of his arms surrounding her. The heat of the bath soaked into her skin, easing the day’s tension with every passing second. She closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

Bucky’s lips brushed her temple, then her cheek, then lower, his breath warm against her ear. “Better?”

“So much better.” Her voice came out in a blissful whisper as her hand found his, twining her fingers with his under the water.

They stayed like that, surrounded by bubbles, the water lapping gently around them.

Eventually, Bucky started talking about his day, and she couldn’t help but laugh when he confessed he’d tried to cook a recipe he found online but had misread the measurements for the salt. He chuckled, squeezing her hand as he continued, “Let’s just say I’ve made pasta three times now, and I think my body’s 90% carbohydrates at this point.”

Y/N laughed, glancing over her shoulder. “I appreciate the dedication, Sergeant Barnes. You’re really going for ‘man of the kitchen’ now, huh?”

“Hey, I’m a work in progress.” He chuckled, pressing his cheek to hers, his stubble tickling her skin.

“Hey, I’m a work in progress.” He chuckled, pressing his cheek to hers, the faint scratch of his stubble tickling her skin.

She wriggled a little, laughing softly as she pushed him back just enough to turn and meet his gaze. “Yeah, well, tell that to my spice rack. I think it’s still recovering from last time you decided to ‘experiment.’”

“Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad.” He leaned back with an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes before giving her a mock-wounded look. “You’re making me sound like some disaster in the kitchen.”

She raised her brows, a teasing grin tugging at her lips. “You added two cups of pepper, Bucky. Pepper.”

He let out a reluctant laugh, the sound reverberating in his chest and making the water ripple around them. “Hey, I had a vision. You’re just not seeing my culinary genius, Sweetheart.”

She tilted her head, lips pursing in exaggerated thought. “You know, there are actual cooking classes, people you could call for guidance…”

“Or,” he interrupted, leaning forward until their noses brushed, his voice a playful murmur, “I could just keep experimenting until I win you over with my unique talents.”

She rolled her eyes, though her smile softened as she gently brushed a hand over his cheek, her thumb tracing the scar along his shoulder. “Winning me over doesn’t take much, you know.”

His gaze softened at her words, the humor fading into something warmer. “Yeah? ’Cause I’d go to the ends of the earth for it, Doll. Or, at the very least, attempt another recipe or two. Only if you’re lucky, though.”

She laughed, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Guess I am, then.”

Their laughter faded into a comfortable silence, both of them sinking back into the warmth of the bath, the bubbles swirling around them as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders once more. He brushed his lips across her forehead and rested his chin on top of her head, his voice a low murmur, “Just want you to feel like the luckiest woman in the world, you know?”

She glanced up, catching his gaze, her heart swelling at the tenderness in his eyes. “With you, I always do.”

They drifted into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional bubble popping between them. She felt his arms tighten slightly, pulling her closer, as if grounding himself in the warmth of the moment. He sighed, low and content, and she could feel the smile against her neck.

“Thank you,” she whispered, glancing up at him. “For this. I needed it.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Darling,” he murmured, voice soft. “Taking care of you…well, that’s my favorite part of the job.”

He gently brushed a thumb over her knuckles, his touch delicate as if he were memorizing every detail. They slipped further into conversation, trading jokes about the ridiculousness of their day, the strange things they’d encountered, and the people they’d met.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you,” she said, perking up with a sly grin. “Sam texted me. Said you owe him ‘three push-ups and a latte,’ whatever that means.”

Bucky let out a deep laugh, his hand splashing lightly in the water. “That traitor. It’s because he bet I’d make it through the day without saying a single swear word.”

“And you lost?”

“Let’s just say someone accidentally spilled hot coffee on my favorite jacket this morning. Not my best moment.” His face softened, then, as he brushed a kiss over her shoulder. “But this makes up for it. Everything is better when you’re here.”

The sincerity in his voice melted her heart. She tilted her head, and he leaned down, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss. They lingered there, a tangle of warmth and affection, their noses brushing as she drew back, her hand cradling his face.

They stayed in the tub until the water started to cool, and even then, neither of them wanted to leave the cocoon of warmth and each other’s company. Eventually, Bucky stood first, grabbing a towel and holding it open for her with a sweet, playful grin.

Once they were out, he handed her the fluffy pajamas he’d set aside and ruffled his hair with a towel, watching her as she slipped into them. “You’re adorable,” he said, a touch of awe in his tone.

She glanced at him, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her smile. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

When they finally snuggled up on the couch, tangled in each other and a blanket, she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“Think you’ll be alright tomorrow?” he asked, his fingers gently tracing patterns along her arm.

“With you here? I’ll be better than alright.”

He let out a contented hum, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Then that’s all that matters, Kitten.”

——————————————————————————————————

So, are your teeth okay after all the cavity-inducing sweetness?? 🤭

[whoisthispersonwow]

Hello people of tumblr! :)

I am not used to using this app but I thought i would give it a shot as the fandom works featured here are straight up the best things i've found on the internet, and the community seems just AMAZING on all regards!!! So I thought, yk, that I would share my ideas for this AU fic that perhaps maybe I would write sometimes...... idk....

Actor Bucky x Model Buck

Set in the 90s, this AU follows this rough outline : despite the 90s being a time of counterculture for the youth, (grunge, alternative movies being pushed forward and towards larger audiences) and being out of the 80s and all it entails (glam rock and so on) there was this paradoxally reinforced idea of masculinity (leather jackets, men having to be "strong", etc.) and lattent ideas of homosexuality being a "bad, filthy thing" in some places, interlinked with the misinformations concerning the HIV epidemic (if you're gay, you'll get AIDS, you'll die in a few months, all this stuff), which causes the Bucks have to hide their relationship from the public in fear of retaliation and backlash.

Buck is a male model, in a decade in which supermodels are emerging, and put on a pedestal : it's a decent job for him, despite not being a Claudia Schiffer or a Kate Moss (as female models, especially in that decade, were getting paid way more than male models, and overall just represented couture houses more than men did.). People know his face, he's had a few campaigns, but it's not enough to make him one of the A-list celebrities, not that he minds. He's slimmer than what is the norm for male models, but compensates it with his face : it is his strength as much as his weakness concerning bookings. He is known by his peers as this wise and generally kind man, not overly flairy as people can sometimes be in their industry, and overall very discreet about his personal life. He is extremely professional, a master of his craft that knows exactly what is expected of him at any time.

Bucky, on the other hand, is an actor. Freshly discovered among the rest of a new generation of actors, he climbs steadily and surely his way to the top, and has people from all over the USA watching his career with interest. He acts in movies which in our timeline would feel like "The Matrix" ; "Trainspotting" ; "Fight Club", and all of those sorts of very "mainstream yet still posessing their bit a flair" movies. He's extending his choices and taking more risks, ones that could perhaps lead him to great rewards (not that he is especially looking for it : Bucky would be content to act in a short movie by a middle schooler if it was done with love and passion.) Charming, bubbly, he is loved by many of teenage girls (and others, ofc :p). Everyone has a story about Bucky, be it good or bad. "Oh yeah, he bought me a car when mine broke down" says a make-up artist on a set. "He got so drunk he forgot I was here and punched me square in the face when i got up to pee" says his friend Curt Biddick.

(i made an ugly ass moodboard for the vibes)

-> now i'm gonna dump random infos for no particular reasons

TW : mentions of drugs, alcohol, homophobic cliches.

-They met at a party/gala of some sort for a brand, for which Buck modeled and Bucky was ambassador : it didn't click right away, but closely enough for it to feel like fate played a part in it.

-Buck is kind of excluded during parties as he's fully sober, whether it's from drugs or alcohol : a rarity, in the modeling world, and often not a welcome one.

-Bucky on the other hand, is a bit too much of a party monster : he drinks a lot, perhaps snorts a little cocaine in the bathroom, takes a little speed... Which GREATLY concerns Buck.

-Bucky is as cocky in his confidence and his career as he fears (and represses A LOT) the possibility of everything tumbling down and just going back to being nobody (THIS MAN NEEDS TO BE LOVED BY EVERYONE)

-He's terrified that fame will change him, that he will become a parody version of himself, that people will only know and like the version of himself he presents them and nothing else, not seeing his worth as a person, as an individual of flesh and feelings.

-Between the two of them, he's the one who desperately wants to tell the general audience about their relationship, not caring about the consequences, because in his eyes, love is love, and there sure as hell ain't nothing wrong with loving Gale Cleven, and people should know that he loves him, that they love each other, that they're a pair, that life only ever feels complete when they stand side by side, hanging in each other's orbits. They sometimes argue over this.

-Buck, on the other hand, wishes for their relationship to stay a secret, as he fears if it was to be known, it would taint Bucky's image, this very manly, confident and suave man, mingle it with dumb cliches (in a gay couple one is a "Folle" and the other has to be effeminate, because they're like GIRLS yk) and that it would basically ruin his career, tarnish his talent and hard work, get him blacklisted from most studios/directors and only perhaps offered type-casted roles in homophobic movies written by straight men. Buck could not stand seeing the love of his life being disgraced in the public's eyes, just because of some dumbass cliches, because of his love for him.

-Marjorie (Marge) covers for Buck. She's his front : They are seen dining together and huddling on benches by paparazzis, giggling and talking as they walk in the street, and that's enough. Their story makes people dream, these two young people who grew up together and fell in love, still a couple until this day, still loving each other as much as they did on the first day... They are a lavender couple (when both member of a relationship are queer, and use their couple to cover any suspicions) which helps making Buck and Bucky seem like just buddies. Marjorie is most likely not famous, or if so, she'd be more of a writer than anything else.

-Bucky is EXTREMELY jealous and FUMES whenever he cannot kiss Buck in public, touch him, do his little Bucky things, make Buck feel his. Despite that, he's sort of reckless and allows himself gestures that would not fly were the two men not viewed as pinacle of masculinity and a great example of brotherly love. Buck can't even bring himself to ressent him for it, and does not hold it against him : he too wishes they could hold hands on red carpets.

-Bucky is basically a disaster waiting to happen at some point, a pressure cooker dangerously whistling : he bottles everything he feels, just grits his teeth and says he's fine when dark times arise, drowns himself in alcohol and wishes to forget about his worries, thinks about simpler times when he had none at all. Gale stays by his side, no matter what, no matter his terrifying relationship with alcohol and the memories of his father.

-They live together, despite the risks : Buck couldn't bear having to say no to Bucky when he bought their appartment with a huge check from the royalties he earned over his first blockbuster. It is approprietly cozy : most of the decorum is Buck's doing, but Bucky's things still find their ways in there ; baseball posters, pictures, awards and silly little drawings on stick-it notes... It feels like home, to both of them.

-They probably have bought some sort of ranch or farm, somewhere, to run away from the city when things get crazy : they bask reverently in the fact that there, nothing they do or say matters, watching the sunsets on their patios, enjoying the melody of nature without any civilization.

That's pretty much it for now, I'll most likely add things later! :D I'm begging you to excuse any mistake I made, i'm just a poor French person trying her best. Don't hesitate to tell me how you feel and stuff, I am so nervous to make this post you can't imagine lmaoo

To end things, I guess I'll just post an extract of a wip, a written transcription of a fake interview Bucky probably had on some talk show!!! :]

[nessieart]

The Way Back. V

WC: 7.5k (its super long im so sorry!)

eventual bucky x reader. maybe steve x reader. im still deciding dontshootme

Summary: These powers were meant to help people. Help The Avengers, your family. It felt like every time you used them, something bad always happened. Maybe someone has the answers, somewhere.

An: I've had half of this done already, and wasn't sure where to put it. So here we are! Enjoy!

Masterlist

Previously:

"I bet you say that to all the girls, Bucky," you tease, placing a hand on his chest. You push him away slightly so you can order a drink for yourself, but Bucky steps back into your space, holding your hand to his chest.

He looks over your shoulder for a moment, then down at you as he lowers his face next to your ear.

"Maybe, but I'm here with the prettiest dame in Brooklyn tonight. And there's nowhere else I'd rather be."

Oh, he's good. You bring a hand over your mouth to stifle the laugh that wants to bubble out.

"Alright, soldier, buy a gal a drink first," you chuckle. It earns you a bright smile, and Bucky turns to get the bartenders attention.

As you gaze around the bar, you see a familiar head of blonde hair, then realize he's leaving. You turn to Bucky, "why is Steve leaving?" Bucky stiffens next to you. He looks at you from the corner of his eye.

2011

New Mexico was oddly cold this time of year. You still haven't gotten used to it after moving back here for 3 years. After leaving California, packing up your whole life from your small apartment, you decided going home might do you some good. Helping out the family business wasn't what you had in mind, but you had no other options. It wasn't permanent, that's what you kept telling yourself. Your mom just needed a little help, that's all.

Dr. Jane Foster sat in your section of the tourist-fueled diner in the middle of Roswell. Small green alien decor with a retro ‘50s vibe was all the rage - at least it was in the ‘90s.

“Look, I get it, sure,” you shrugged, placing the plates of toast and waffles (in the shape of little green men) on the table, “it's all hilarious to poke fun at the failed Astrophysics major - in green antenna - but I left all those theories back west. Sorry, Doc.”

“I read your graduating thesis,” she bursts out, hands clamped tight around the coffee mug on the table. “Your theory on Parallel Existences and Space-Time Resonance was,” she huffed out a breath of disbelief, “was truly amazing! It was inspiring! I want you to come work with me, er us. With us. please?” The sentence was rushed, and she hardly took a moment to breathe, but you understood.

There was another huff across from her, the girl in glasses and a beanie rolling her eyes and putting more waffles in her mouth than she should.

“Lay off, Jane,” Darcy, you think her name is, says around a mouthful of waffles and syrup, “she obviously would rather work her minimum wage, shit job, where she has to dress like that,” she points her fork up and down at your outfit, “-than see the hunky space dude you hit with the van.” 

Your eye twitches, and you place your hands on your hips. Dr Foster shoots her companion a glare and mutters something about it was an accident, and you're too focused on their banter to hear the bell above the door, and the man approaching the table of your current customers.

“Well, what's the verdict, my dear?” An accented voice pulls your thoughts away.  And you're looking at one of your idols.

“D-Doctor Sel- Selvig,” it's a whisper, and you're staring wide-eyed at the man, mouth gaping like a fish as you fumble about what to say. It's all stuttered syllables, and you promise you're more verbally inclined than this very moment. You have a PhD for crying out loud. Well, almost a PhD, but who's keeping track?

Dr Selvig chuckles, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I'm assuming that's a ‘yes'?” Your frantic nodding is all you could muster.

Your brows are furrowed, arms crossed at your chest and head tilted to the side. Surely, this space hunk, that Darcy calls him (probably derogatory, not affectionate), can't be from, well, space. Could he?

You read Jane's readings she gathered from the other night as she drove back to her ‘lab’. She talked a mile a minute and hardly paid attention to the road as she pointed out certain scans and readings on the paper in your hands. Her hands articulated wildly, and your hand on the wheel of the van to keep it between the lines on the road.

The blond Adonis in a too tight shirt smirks down at you, mimicking your stance with a twinkle in his electric blue eyes.

You narrow your eyes at him, “you're from space.” It's not a question, and the man - a God he had said - nods once.

“From a planet called-”

“Realm,” he corrects.

“Uh huh,” your head tilts the other way.  “Asgard.” He grins, big and bright, and then claps his hands together so loud it sounds like thunder. 

“You were far easier to convince than the rest of your friends,” he claps a hand on your shoulder, and you're sure the force of it sends you into the floor beneath you. A quiet ow leaving your lips.

His voice is accented and deep, and dare you say…old timey? Like going to Medieval Times or something.

He puts on a show, voice loud and booming with purpose as he describes his home. There's a fond smile on his lips and a far-off look in his eyes. 

You roll your shoulder to ease the sting, “With Dr Fosters findings on the Einstein-Rosen-”

“Bifrost,” Thor corrects you again.

“Uh huh, bifrost. With her data on the Bifrost, it would only conclude to lead somewhere else. Somewhere far away that we could never hope to discover in our lifetime. Multiple lifetimes.” You've paced away from Thor's grip and around the room. “Imagine if you could travel anywhere, any place conceivable to the known universe…it’s. It’s extraordinary.”

There was a repetitive loud banging on the glass door behind you. It made you squeak in surprise. Four large people stood on the other side, all wearing…well, odd clothing. Three men and a woman.

“My friends!” Thor’s thundering voice shouted.

—

It was still hard to believe, even though you watched them all disappear. 

A beam of bright, radiant rainbow light appeared from the heavens, engulfed Thor and his friends, and then they were gone. A large glyph seared into the desert sands was the only thing left of their time on earth. 

After that, things happened so fast. Working with Dr. Selvig, being recruited by SHIELD. Doing something you loved and missed.

And then the explosion happened. 

Everything was fine one minute, and then the next, the readings were off the charts. SHIELD started evacuating all personnel on the upper floors. You insisted on staying with Selvig to try and tame the Tesseract, but it’s been hours, and you have nothing to show for progress.

Nick Fury is an intimidating man. You've  only been in his vicinity a handful of times. You're pretty positive he only has one emotion; serious.

It all happened so fast. Fury was shouting, and so was Selvig. The only thing you could hear was the ringing in your ears, then a pain so searing hot and ice cold, shot through your chest it almost made you pass out. It felt like you were on fire. Every breath and subtle movement was painful. A groan leaves your lips, and it takes considerable effort to open your eyes.

You could hear voices call your name. Maybe it was your name. Who were you? 

How did you end up on the floor? It was all a blur.

“Now then, who are you?” A lilting accented voice above you asked. When your eyes meet the striking bright blues of the stranger - or did you know him - he smirks at you.

“I- I don't-” was that your voice? It sounds so far away. 

There’s a lot of loud noises across the open room - guns, yeah, probably guns - the ringing is slowly subsiding as you sit up. The burning sensation is all but gone now. There's a man knelt down beside you, a hand gripping your bicep and tugging you up to your feet.

“C’mon, kid, we gotta go,” he says in your ear. It feels like eternity as you drag your eyes from your hands to his face. 

“You - you have an eyepatch. Are you a pirate?” 

The man shakes you a little, “Snap out of it, Agent. Get that brain goin’,” he - Fury! How could you forget - pulls you along with him, a briefcase in his other hand.

“Please don’t,” the quiet voice seems to carry far in the wide open space. “I still need that.”

“This doesn’t have to get any messier,” Fury says, slightly turning back to the mystery man clad in green.

Fury slowly steps in front of you, shielding your body with his. You’re vaguely aware of more conversation being had in the room, but the ringing is slowly taking over again the longer you stare at the scepter in the stranger's white knuckled grip.

There’s a loud shot that rings out, and Fury is at your feet with a bullet hole in his shoulder. You yelp in surprise and kneel down next to him.  There’s a rush of footsteps toward you, and when a pair of hands try to pull you along, they phase right through you.

You stare up at the stranger, both of your eyes wide in surprise. His eyes were eerily blue.

“What in the Nine Realms are you?” There’s wonder in his voice, and then he doubles over in pain, a bodyguard, and Agent Barton pull him along in a hurry, along with the large silver briefcase.

There’s a groan below you, and Nick Fury is sitting up, yanking the bullet from his vest.

Everything goes blurry and dark around the edges of your vision as Fury all but drags you out of the building and into a helicopter.

—

It was hard to remember how you got here, in a bed, in an off-white room with monitors and an IV connected to your hand.

Your mind is still trying to catch up. The events of the last day and a half are still fuzzy and catching up with your sluggish brain. The hiss of the door opening pulls your eyes up from your lap, Agent Coulson stands in the doorway.

“How - ?” 

He raises a hand as he steps closer, “you've been out for most of the day. I was starting to worry.  We brought you on the helicarrier,” someone is there to remove your IV, and Coulson helps you out into the hallway.

He places a comforting hand on your shoulder, waiting for you to get your bearings.

“I remember-,” your eyebrows scrunch up, and you shake your head, “I remember the Tesseract acting up. Dr Selvig was trying to stabilize her, but she wouldn't respond.”

Coulson led you down the hall and onto the bridge. Director Fury and Agent Hill were conversing when they noticed you entered.

“The energy release opened a portal,” your hand comes up to your chest (whether you realize it or not). There's a slight burning sensation when you do. “It went right through me.  Didn't it?”

You peer around the room, Coulson and Hill look worried, and Fury is as serious as ever. His large footfalls echo in the open space. You feel like Fury is stalking towards his prey, and you're it.

“That beam went right through you, Agent,” he stops a few inches from you, single eye peering down his nose at you. “Saw it myself. Are there any side effects I need to know about?” You shake your head.

Fury tugs on the black tank top resting on your collarbone. When you look down, there's a very noticeable bright blue glow coming from your chest.

Pulling it down just far enough to not flash the whole room, there's a palm sized blue crystal seared to the flesh of your chest. 6 inches long, below your clavicle and ending between your breasts.

The skin around it is scared and puckered with healed over burn marks. You touch it, and it's solid, glowing brighter when your finger runs along the edge.

“What the hell?” You look up at Fury with wide eyes, tears gathering and blurring the edge of your vision. “Can it come off? How did it - what - ? Take it off-” 

Your mind is running a mile a minute, heart rate also kicking up. You're pretty sure your breathing is ragged and sporadic. 

Oh, so it's definitely a panic attack. 

You're gasping for breath when a comforting hand runs up your back, Coulson is talking softly in your ear to bring you back down.

Am I on the floor?

“Yes, it's ok. Breathe, follow along. Do what I do,” a soft voice says to you. Your hand is placed on their chest, and you can feel the beat of their heart and the rise and fall of a chest. The purple cotton shirt is soft under your fingertips.

In, out. Breathe. In, and out.

“You're doing great,” the man says. You look up to his face. He's quietly calm. The uptick of a smile pulls at his lips when you mimic his breathing again.

“Great,” you exhale a long breath. “I just had a panic attack in front of Dr Banner. Good going, y/n. Smooth.”

Banner chuckles, squeezing your hand he still holds to his chest, “don't worry about it,” his smile is polite, and he helps you stand.

Behind you, Fury calls your name, “Agent, why don’t you help Dr. Banner with locating the Tesseract? I’m sure your…abilities could prove useful.”

“Um, sure.”

--

Bruce (he’s asked you on multiple occasions in the last half hour to call him Bruce) removes his glasses from his face. There’s a slight flush on his face after he examines the crystalline scar on your chest. It sits flush against your skin, but hard has a rock when touched.

You sat on top of the table, and the black sports bra didn't cover any of the crystalline on your sternum. It was easier for Bruce to examine it this way.

“So, what's the verdict?” You put the tank top back on. At least it covered a majority of the blue glowing rock.

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did. “I'd need to x-ray the area, just to be 100% sure, but I think it might be fused with you. Your sternum, maybe a few ribs.”

“So in other words, it's a part of me,” you slid off the table and stood, “whatever this is, it's not going anywhere.”

Bruce gives you a sullen look, shaking his head a little. There was a commotion outside the lab, a bunch of armed SHIELD agents filling the hallway. They were escorting a prisoner. The man from New Mexico is tall, pale, and mysterious.

“What's going on?” You edge closer to the window as they pass, the mystery man staring at Bruce and giving him an all-knowing smirk. Then his eyes shift to you, and the smirk drops, his brows furrow, and the same look of awe crosses his features that he gave you back in the basement of Project PEGASUS. And then he's out of sight.

“C'mon, they should be back by now,” Bruce says. You follow him out of the room and down a different hallway when you enter the bridge.

“Who should be back? Bruce-” 

The monitors flick on around the room, projecting a live feed from a chamber. The green clad man is encased in a large glass prison. Your eyes scan the room, finding Natasha Romanoff seated at the large table in the middle of the room.

There's also a video playing in front of her, too. You come up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder, and she turns to you to give you a hug.

You met Nat after you joined SHIELD, being assigned to the New Mexico base along with Clint Barton. Nat had come and gone a few times, and you two got along well enough that you considered her a friend.

“I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to help Clint,” you whisper to her. She pulls back from the hug and gives you a serious look.

Nat looks down at your chest briefly, “don't be, I saw the footage.” She squeezes your bicep and returns to her chair. A sigh leaves you, letting go of some of the stress on your shoulders.

Looking up when you hear a few pairs of boots enter, you jolt in surprise. 

“Thor?” You're already making your way towards him. He has a huge grin on his face as his arms open wide. He lifts you into a crushing hug, a big deep chuckle of your name rumbling in his chest as your arms wind around his neck.

“What are you doing here? I never thought I'd see you again,” you pull back to look at him, and he sets you down.

“Truth be told, I never thought I would be back on Midgard so soon,” his face somber, and he leaves a hand on your shoulder. “Not after the Bifrost was destroyed. This disastrous mess with Loki, I fear, is all my fault.”

You tilt your head, “Loki, your brother?”

As if on queue, the TV screens and monitors around the room pick up sound, Fury's and the stranger's voice echoing around the room.

You walk closer to Natasha, peering over her shoulder at the video that plays.

“In case it's unclear. You try to escape, you so much as scratch that glass,” Fury turns and presses a button. It opens a large hatch door on the floor below the glass chamber Loki stands in. “Thirty thousand feet, straight down in a steel trap. You get how that works?” 

The hatch doors close a second later, and Fury points towards the man in the cell, “Ant,” then points to the control panel, “Boot.” 

More words are exchanged between them, and then you're suddenly aware of someone staring a hole into the side of your head.  When you look, there's a man in a red white and blue leotard all but glaring a hole through you. 

You go to open your mouth, but he quickly snaps out of it and focuses back on the monitor in front of him. You look around to see if anyone notices, but everyone else is focused on other things. 

“-to have the Tesseract, to have power. Unlimited power. And for what?” Loki stares at the camera with a mischievous grin, “A warm light for all mankind to share. And then be reminded what real power is.” 

“He really grows on you, doesn't he?” Bruce jokes.

“Loki's gonna drag this out. So, Thor, what's his play?” The man in blue speaks up. He briefly makes eye contact with you and then turns his gaze to Thor.

Thor shakes his head like he zoned out a little, “he has an army called the Chitauri. They are not of Asgard or any known world. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the earth. In return, I suspect, for the Tesseract.”

Every time someone has mentioned that glowing blue cube, the crystal scar on your chest pulses a little. Maybe from phantom pain from a few days ago, but it burns again when you bring your hand to it. 

“Selvig?” Thor's question of your mentor's name snaps you out of the pain in your chest. 

“He's an astrophysicist,” Bruce says.

“He's a friend,” you and Thor share a concerned look for Erik. You pace back towards Thor and put a hand on his overly large forearm, trying to comfort him. His hand dwarfs yours when he covers it.

“I don't think we should be focusing on Loki,” Bruce says. He begins to pace around, his eyes seeking a solution to a problem. “that guy's brain is a bag full of cats. You can smell crazy on him.”

You stifle a snort when Thor goes rigid, “Have care how you speak. Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard, and he is my brother.” You give a gentle squeeze of your hand, and Thor gives you a small nod.

“He killed 80 people in two days,” Nat simpers.

“He's adopted,” Thor supplies quietly. 

“I think it's about the mechanics.  Iridium, what did they need the iridium for?”

“It's a stabilizing agent,” you say. Another voice behind you also saying it at the same time.

“Means the portal won't collapse on itself, like it did at SHIELD.” Tony Stark. Of course. You met him once before, for the internship at Stark Industries, years ago, another lifetime ago.

Stark walks along the room, patting Thor on his bicep as he walks by, “no hard feelings, Point Break, you gotta mean swing.” He notices you, a stutter in his step and the brief furrow of his brow, then continues walking.

“The only major component he still needs is a power source,” Stark continues.

“Something of high energy density,” you cross your arms, nodding.

“Something to kick start the cube,” Stark finishes.

“When did you become an expert in thermonuclear Astrophysics?” Agent Hill asks Stark.

“Last night. The packet. Selvig’s notes-”

“the extraction theory papers?” you asked. “I - I uh, helped him with those,” you say quieter, a heat rising to your cheeks when the eyes around the table turn to you.

“Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?” You can see the star on his chest now. How could you miss it? Phil hasn't stopped talking about him for almost a year. Captain America himself. You blame the slip in memory due to the accident. You're sure no one else notices your memory slip.

“He's got to heat the cube to-” 

“-to a hundred and twenty million Kelvin-,” you cut off Bruce.

And in turn he finishes your sentence,“-to break through the Coulomb barrier.”

Stark continues both your train of thought, “unless, Selvig figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect.” 

“Well, if he could do that he could achieve Heavy Ion Fusion at any reactor on the planet,” Bruce surmises. It's a lot to take in. 

“Finally, people that speak English,” Stark says, he walks up to Bruce and shakes his hand, complimenting him on his research and how he turns into the Hulk.

Bruce gives a shy smile and thanks him. Bruce beckons you over as they turn to leave the room, and you follow behind, sharing one last glance at Thor. You give him a small wave when he nods at you.

-+

Steve never considered himself a jealous person. Bucky had always made sure to include him in everything he did. Steve never felt left out with Bucky around.

So he wasn't sure what this feeling was, deep in his chest. It ached, it felt heavy, and it made his heart thud painfully behind his rib cage. He subconsciously wasn’t sure if it had to do with his heart murmur or the bruises on his sternum from the fight he got in the other day.

Steve had met you a few days ago. It was like you fell out of the sky, quite literally, in front of him. You gave him the most dazzling smile. He thought he was going blind. He had enough medical problems, and going blind wouldn't have surprised him.

So why were you here now? Talking and flirting with Bucky, of all people. Steve thought you liked him. You even said as much.

I like you like this, Steve. You even placed your hand on his cheek. His face turned hot under your touch.

Bucky caught Steve's eye over your shoulder and gave Steve a wink. He leaned in real close to your ear and said something. The breath from Bucky's lips fanning across your cheek and moving your hair.

Your hand came up to your mouth, and you laughed. Steve could see your shoulders shake, and then your hand landed on Bucky's chest.

Steve's nostrils flared, and he balled his fists so tight he thought the skin would split. And when he met Bucky's eyes again, his chest went warm. He turned on his heels and walked out of that bar so fast the soles of his shoes could catch fire.

=

“You ok, Cap?” Fury's voice snaps Steve out of his memory, eyes refocusing in the room. He had watched you follow Bruce and Tony down the hall to the lab, he assumes.

He was so surprised to see you standing there, embracing Thor like you were old friends. Hell, maybe you were. But then your eyes found his, and for a brief moment, hope flickered to life in Steve for the first time since coming out of the ice. But the light of recognition never triggered in your eyes, and they just continued to scan the room and back to Thor.

As you left, you tossed another glance behind you, small recognition in your eyes when you looked at him. Maybe you did remember. And then your gaze shifted to Thor again and gave a small reassuring wave.

Maybe it wasn't you he met 70 odd years ago. Maybe it was a relative. That's what he likes to think, anyway. That's what he keeps telling himself. 

Steve stands, hands spread wide on the table in front of him as he looks at Director Fury. “Why is Charlie here?”

Fury looks confused for a brief moment, single eye squinting in question. “Who the hell is Charlie?”

==

Bruce tried and failed to hide the smile on his face, “and all I packed was a toothbrush.”

A small chuckle left your lips from the other side of the lab. You were trying to focus on the readings on the tablet in your hands and also adjusting the parameters of the search for the tesseract on the monitor in front of you. Display readings fluctuate as you expand the search to South America.

Bruce lets out a sharp ow when you hear the small spark of an electrical prod go off. you squeak in surprise as Captain America comes barging in at the same time.

“Hey!” His broad frame appears in front of you, blocking your other companions from view. “Are you nuts?”

“Jury's still out,” you can hear the shrug and smug smirk in Tony’s voice. “You're tiptoeing big man, you need to strut!”

“And you need to focus on the problem, Mr. Stark,” the Captain argues back. 

There's a ringing in your ears the longer they disagree and argue. A blue light flashes in your periphery, a sharp pain in your chest. You're vaguely aware of something shattering at your feet as you hunch in on yourself. The pain in your chest is unbearable, and the tearing at your throat is getting harsher by the second; pain in your vocal chords like you've been screaming for hours.

The searing pain suddenly stops, and when you can feel other sensations other than the agony in your chest, you open your eyes.

There's audible sighs of relief when your vision focuses after a few rapid blinks. Above you stand Tony, Bruce, and one very concerned Steve Rogers.

“Wha-” your throat was hoarse and dry, and you cough a few times to try and clear it. A gentle hand on your back tries to soothe away the ache.

“You ok, kid?” 

“Give her some space.”

“Charlie, you with us?”

Your brow scrunch tight as your eyes cut to Captain America, “who the hell is Charlie?” He helps you stand and takes a step back, his hand coming up to run through his golden hair and then rub at the back of his neck.

Tony eyes the Star-Spangled man, eyes squinting in curiosity. 

“I'm sorry, you look like someone I used to know. You know, before,” Rogers shrugs sheepishly. “Maybe a relativ-”

There's a beep from across the lab, and Tony perks up, an audible ah ha! as he makes his way to the monitor. He deflates when it was just a false alarm. Mumbling something about JARVIS taking his sweet old time.

Steve lets out a loud huff, turning to leave but stopping in the doorway, “just hurry and find the cube,” and then he swiftly exits.

Bruce is still crowded in your space, trying to make sure you're ok, a tentative hand on your shoulder to ground you.

“You alright over there, Nightlight?” Tony asks.

You snort softly,”Y-you're one to talk. I don-don’t know what happened,” you put your head in your hands. “At least the pain is gone.”

Bruce makes a startled noise, and when you look up, Tony is in your face, and you try not to jump in surprise.

Tony taps your chest with the end of the small prod, it clinks on contact, and he hums. “I'm sure it's fine,” he shrugs.

“Tony I don't-” Bruce starts but cuts himself off when you turn and leave.

Answers. You need answers, and the only one who you think might have them is currently locked up in a cell made for the Hulk.

--

You peered through the glass window just to make sure no one else was in the room. Natasha was exiting, and as her door closed with a woosh, yours opened.

Loki had his back to you, hands clasped behind his back. When he sensed another entering the large empty space, he turned his head to glare over his shoulder.

His back straightened when he caught sight of you, though. Turning to face you head on and stalk to the glass as you took hesitant steps forward.

“Well, well,” his voice echoed in the room, a smirk pulling up one side of his lips, “ if it isn't the little mortal. Tell me, do the others know about what the Tesseract has done to you? Your little magic trick?”

You shake your head. The phantom pain from earlier was crawling up your body, and you brought a hand to your chest as a shudder went through you. Loki arched an eyebrow at you when you stepped closer.

“I don't know what's happening to me,” Your throat felt tight, and you pulled the shirt collar down to show him the crystalline scar on your chest. 

“My, you are full of surprises, little mortal,” his smirk was anything but teasing. Glittering blue eyes stared down his nose in condescending fashion.

“Can you remove it?” You gave a hopeful look, “you can do magic, right?  Please.” You stepped closer to the glass, breath fogging up the outside of it as you stared up at Loki. 

A sneer pulled at his lips as his shoulders squared tight, “I am not a magician.” 

You both studied each other for a moment, and then a sly grin spread across his face.

An explosion rocked the helicarrier so hard you lost your footing and stumbled back, grabbing onto a railing. Just as you're about to get your bearings and stand, another explosion goes off, and you fall, hitting your head on the railing as you go down.

“ow,” you mumble, rolling over on your side. “Phil…” Looking up, you see a very large gun in his hands.

He spares you a small glance, then focuses in front of him, “Move away, please.” 

You use the railing to sit up, kneeling on your knees as you wait for your head to stop spinning.

Loki has his hands up as he moves away from the control panel. A voice calls your name, and you see Thor in the glass case.

“Thor,” you rasp, and grasp along the railing as you make your way to him.  “Are you ok?” You ask when you get close. He nods, and he looks over your shoulder at Loki and Coulson. 

“Even I don't know what it does. Wanna find out?” Phil smirks.

One minute, you're looking at Loki near the console, and then there's another behind Coulson. Spear in hand.

Time seems to slow as Loki double pierces Phil in the back and sticks out his chest. The audible gasp that leaves his lips seems to echo in your mind.

You hear Thor yell, and you scramble forward to get to Coulson as he collapses to the ground.

“Phil, no. No, no, look at me. Hey,” your hands are frantic as you press them to the wound, pouring blood into his white shirt. 

He says your name, coughing a little, and blood leaks from his lips to spill down his chin.

“I-its's - it's ok. Do-don’t worry,” there's a thumb pressed to your cheek to wipe the tears from your face. You didn't even realize you started crying. 

You feel the sudden onslaught of wind as the hatch opens behind you, but you can't bring yourself to look away from Coulson. The release of hydraulics is loud in your ears and then the release of locks. And you know Thor is gone.

The hatch closes, and it's quiet again. Only your sniffles and the ragged breathing of Phil can be heard.

He turns his head to the side, “you're gonna lose,” his voice is weak, and you look behind you to Loki. His face is impassive as he looks down at you and Phil.

“Am I?”

Phil takes a labored deep breath, “it's in your nature.” his hand grabs yours and holds on loosely.

Loki scoffs, “your heroes are scattered, your floating fortress falls from the sky. Where is my disadvantage?”

“you lack conviction,” you say, and you and Phil fire the massive weapon at Loki. He goes flying back through a window as debris falls on him.

“so, that's what it does.” his eyes come back to you, and he blinks slowly.

You take the earpiece from his ear and put it in your own, “Agent Coulson is down, I need medical assistance in detention bay 2. Repeat Agen-”

“I'm on my way,” you hear Fury grunt. 

“Sir,” you choke out, trying to keep Phil awake. He smiles weakly up at you.

“Nightlight, you alright up there?” Tony's voice comes through the comm in your ear.

“Yeah, just. I'm fine,” you give Coulson a light slap on the cheek. “Stay with me, don't close those eyes, mister.” 

Coulson gives you an affirming hum.

There's a rush of footfalls coming behind you, and you turn with a relieved sigh, hoping it's Fury and the medics.

“Hey! Get off me! No!” Rough hands grip your arms and haul you up and away from Phil, and all he can do is plead with silent eyes. “Phil!” 

“What's happening, Agent?”

“Nightlight! Talk to us!”

“Get off m- ah!” There's a sharp pain to the back of your head, and your vision starts to go black. The last thing you see is Phil as you pass out.

**

It's opening night at the Stark Expo, and you can't stop fidgeting nervously backstage. Howard notices and places a comforting hand on your shoulder. He had asked you for help in the 'secret SSR lab', your powers made the heavy lifting easy, your knowledge of 'future tech' - Howard likes to call it - helped him finalize the last few projects before the Expo takes off.

Howard managed to convince you to wear a dress tonight. At least it was practical, it has pockets. The blouse was green plaid, and the skirt was a pale beige. He wanted you both to match, but he'd take it. Before you could change your mind, Howard had rushed you out of the house at record speed.

"Relax, kid," he fixes his tie a little, "everything's gonna be fine. You're gonna do great. I'll be there the whole time."

You fidget again, running your hands down the front of your dress, then the bracelet around your wrist Howard gave you before arriving at the Expo. The single jewel adorning it was the same color as the crystal scar on your chest. You nearly broke down into tears when he presented it to you.

"You're the sister I never knew I wanted - or needed - it's just a small thanks," he said it so nonchalantly, like it was an everyday thing. You shoved him and then pulled him in for a bone crushing hug. Howard was definitely the brother you never knew you needed as well. And you hope he knew that, too.

"Why can't you just get one of the girls to introduce you? Isn't that what they're getting paid for?" You gripe. Crowds were not your thing. Public speaking was certainly not your thing.

"I feel like I'm gonna pass out."

Howard rolled his eyes, grumbling about you being overly dramatic. He shoved the speech in your hands for last-minute prep.

You can feel your palms begin to sweat just thinking about giving the opening speech for the Stark Expo. A few hundred people would be out there. Watching you.

"Oh, God." You can't do this. What were you thinking? You didn't thrive in the limelight like Howard. You didn't have Tony's charisma with the media. You can't go out there and talk about the Expo and the things Howard and the other brilliant minds of this age hope to achieve by being here.

Howard knocked your chin with his knuckles, placing his top hat on his head, "Don't stress about it, kid. Just let me do all the talking," he gave you a wink.

You could hear the music flare off and end, the girls on stage finishing their routine, one calling and introducing Howard.

He raised his eyebrow at you in a 'See? I took care of it' kind of way. You let out a huge sigh of relief. The weight of the last few hours stress falling away and off your shoulders. There were cheers and applause so loud you could barely hear anything else from backstage, so you pear out the curtain just in time for Howard to smooch one of the girls on stage.

When he pulls away, he give her a sly wink, then sees you roll your eyes at him on the side stage. He was a natural on stage, he speaks about the flying car Stark Industries was hoping to manufacture for the future. You had some input, having worked with Tony on his Iron Man repulsors, but left out some core details about it.

Howard may have grumbled about you withholding information, but eventually let it go.

There definitely weren't any flying cars in your future. Just as fast as the car on stage started hovering, and gasps of awe could be heard in the crowd, the repulsors short circuited, and it came crashing down.

"Well, I did say a few years, didn't I?" Howard tries laughing it off, but you see the tick in his jaw. There was still applause and cheers, Howard smiled and waved.

"Before we move on and you fine folks get to see the rest of the Expo," he continued, he glanced your way, giving you a soft smile. "I'd love to introduce you to the other brains in the family. The woman who is responsible for over half the things you'll see here."

Your heart leaps, hands wringing together as Howard looks back at you again, hand held out and arm stretched toward you.

"Please give a wonderful welcome to my baby sister. You might know her, God knows I love her: Charlotte Stark!" There were more cheers and whistles, Howard's bright pleading eyes begged you on stage. And how could you say no now?

With one deep breath, you walked on stage, the bright lights not as blinding as you thought they might be. You focus on Howard, his smile wide as you make your way over to him. He takes your hand, and as soon as he has a grip on you, he twirls you around. And when you stop on the other side of him, laughter bubbles up before you can stop it. Howard laughs with you, and for a moment, you forget about the crowd of people and why you were terrified to begin with. He squeezes your fingers before letting go and resting his elbow on your shoulder. His other hand holding the microphone between you both.

"Charlie, say something nice to the people of New York," the mic points at you, and you gaze out into the crowd. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so wide.

You laugh lightly, head titling to the side, "Somethin' nice," Howard groans, a quiet 'smart ass', you elbow him in the ribs. "Hello, everyone. I'm not very good at public speaking. Howie got all the charm and charisma in the family. But I did get the good looks, so I suppose I won in that deal."

Howard lets out an offended 'Hey!' and you giggle. It wasn't so bad, not with Howard by your side. The two of you work well together on stage. Playing off small banter and getting hollers from the crowd of people felt good. Natural.

After explaining a short summary of what people could expect from the Expo, you and HOward took your leave of the stage, whistles, catcalls, and applause following your exit.

"That was -" grinning ear to ear, slightly breathless.

"Pretty amazing, right? You're a natural kid."

Howard wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and the two of you walked around the surrounding vendors for a few minutes.

"-While men are layin' down their lives? I can do as well as them, and I got no right to do any less." Your heart does a leap against your ribs. That sounded like Steve. Your Steve. As you pull away from Howard to get closer, you see him and Bucky. Disagreeing, or arguing, either one most likely.

"that's the thing you don't get, Bucky. It's not about me."

"Right, 'cause you have nothing to prove," Bucky doesn't miss a beat.

Howard nudges you. You followed his line of sight to see Dr. Erskine a few feet from Steve and Bucky. This must be it, you think. The tipping point. The deciding factor that changes Steves life forever.

"Charlie?" A surprise call of your name flows from Steve. You give him a smile and wave, making your way over to the pair.

"Steve, James," you greet them. "staying out of trouble, I hope?" You eye them.

"'Course, dollface," Bucky says. The hat on top of his head is lopsided, his flirty smirk he gives you go well together. "Can't say the same about Steve, thought," he cuts Steve a glare.

You hum, "I gathered as much." You motion to the faint bruise on Steve's cheek. Poorly covered up with makeup.

He shrugs in response, "He had it coming," you hum again.

"You both look dashing," you say, Steve's clothes are a little too big for him, but they still look nice. Bucky's wearing his army greens. He's very handsome, you have to admit. "Sergeant, huh?" You flick the medals adorning his breast pocket.

"My last night, doll," he responds. There's a flash of something behind his eyes. "You should come out dancin' with us."

"Hey, Sarge! We gettin' sodas or what?" you all turn to see two girls waving at BUcky. His cheeks turn red.

He clears his throat, "Yeah, we are," he begins to walk away. Before he gets too far, he turns back to Steve, "Promise me you won't do anything stupid before i get back?"

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

Bucky signs and closes the distance between them, They hug each other tight. "You're a punk."

"You're a jerk."

It seems too intimate for you, not meant for your eyes. But they part. Bucky looks to your arms spread wide. You step up into his embrace, arms wrapping around his neck as his circle your waist.

"Thanks for that dance, Sarge," you whisper in his ear. When he pulls away, you kiss his cheek. "Be safe over there, y'hear me?" You try not to choke on the words, knowing his future and what's in store for James Buchanan Barnes, almost makes you want to tell him.

Tell him it only gets worse from here. War changes people. This war changes two best friends for the foreseeable future. Fate twists and takes them and makes these two best friends completely different people on the other side of the century.

"Anything for you, dollface," Bucky says in the space between you.

"Don't win the war until i get there," Steve tells him. You loop your arm with Steve's as Bucky backs away. His hand comes up to his hat, and he gives a flirty salute. Then he's turning and joining the girls that were waiting for him. You think one asks if he was really friends with Howard Stark's sister.

"So, what now, Tough Guy?" You ask Steve, the both of you still staring off at Bucky's retreating form.

"I've got something I need to do first," he begins to walk further into the recruitment office.

"I'll wait for you out here, okay?"

Steve shakes his head, "You don't have to do that, Charlie, really. I'm sure you have better things to do than spend your time with me."

You scoff, "No offense, Steve, but shut up." His eyes go wide. "I like hangin' out with you, dummy. We may not have known each other very long, but you're my friend. Whether you like it or not. Got it?"

Steve stares at you for a good minute, blinking slowly. He smiles small and then nods. "Yeah, okay." As soon as Steve is out of sight, you search for Dr. Erskine. You find him around the corner.

"Doctor," you greet him, he turns to you, surprised, "I know about your plan. Let me join the SSR. Please. I feel like I need to do this."

"My dear," he gives you a knowing smile, "It's not up to me. Why not talk to your brother about this? Surely, he could just bring you along like before. Mr. Stark hardly takes no for an answer. Which I'm sure you are well aware of, yes?"

You laugh, "Of course. I'll uh - leave you to it, then."

**

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 4

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: The team try to piece together everything together and Steve needs answers.

Chapter Warning: Sad Steve, sad Bucky, talk of death mental illness, electric shock treatment, and attempted sexual violence (not in detail).

The ringing of an incoming call, allowed Nat a moment’s reprieve.

“It’s Clint, I made him aware. Thought he should be part of this. He is part of our family after all.” Tony spoke, looking at Steve for permission to connect the call. Steve nodded and Tony answered tapping his phone to share the projection of Clint and Laura, the latter holding baby Nathaniel.

“Please tell me this is some weird prank.” Clint went first.

“You think we’d joke about something like this?” Steve snapped.

“No, of course not.” Laura replied, elbowing Clint, “but I think I speak for both of us when I say, what the fuck you guys.”

A little voice in the background shouted ‘language’ but didn’t get the usual laughter.

“Romanoff I don’t want to have to ask you again. Start talking.”

“I met her when she worked for British Intelligence. Clint introduced us.”

“So you knew her first?” Sam asked, directly his question at Clint on the screen.

“I did. She was an analyst initially, one of the best, if not the best. Still is.”

“So, she’s British?” Asked Rhodey.

“She is.” Answered Nat.

“Was she then?” Rhodey asked Steve and he nodded his reply.

“Man, what type of dumb question is that? You can’t change nationalities.” Sam asked.

“Actually Samuel, you can, not your birth place of course but when residing….”

“Vis not now.” Wanda said.

Pepper decided at this moment to take a handle of things as she watched Steve’s annoyance grow.

“Why don’t we go one at a time? Clint, so you met her first?”

“Yeah, initially just over comms, as part of the partnership between the different agencies but it was clear early on how good she was. The last mission Laura did, we, well we found out on the mission that Laura was pregnant. We were chasing some arms dealer in Greece that had decided to start manufacturing chemicals to control people.  Masses of people. We ran into some trouble. The extraction team were too far out and we were in pretty deep. I thought ‘this is it’, I’d taken my soulmate and my unborn child into a death trap, and then the sprinklers came on, and some 90s boy band starts coming out the speakers of the warehouse. It gave us a hint of time, just seconds to get the upper hand. We stole one of the ingredients so they couldn’t manufacture it and ran. A mile down the road there’s a pay phone ringing. It’s her. Telling us the S.H.I.E.L.D analysts were ‘shockingly shit’ and she’d dialled in and taken over. She directed us to a drain, told us the route to take. When we came up at the exit point, the SAS was there to extract us.”

“Holy shit. I don’t think I know anyone who can just call up the SAS like that, not even their own, not even us.” Sam added.

“She can, she’s got them wrapped around her finger I swear.” Clint said.

“Well, that’ll be guilt.” Nat muttered.

“What did you say?” Sam asked.

“She said something about guilt.” Bucky said, suddenly speaking up.

“Nat it’s not your place to tell them.” Clint stated firmly.

“Tell us what Romanoff?” Pushed Steve.

Pepper decided to refocus the conversation again.

“Laura, have you met her?”

“I have. She’s godmother to our children. Same as Natasha. She’s our soul sister.”

Steve huffed and leaned back in his chair.

“Nat?” Pushed Pepper.

“I met her over comms the same as they did to start with, Clint introduced us over a video call and then Fury sent me to recruit her.”

“For the Avengers?” Asked Steve.

“Not right away. S.H.I.E.L.D, then the Avengers. First as an analyst, then an agent.”

“I’m taking her lack of presence means she politely declined?” Quipped Tony.

“Not exactly.” Looking around at everyone’s confused faces Nat continued “it wasn’t exactly polite, she told me to fuck off.”

There was a rumble of light laughter.

“Hang on, hang on, she knew who you were?” Rhodey asked trying not to laugh, “she knew you were Natasha Romanoff, former assassin, Black Widow, and the British analyst, she told you to fuck off?”

“Yes Rhodey, she told me to fuck off.”

More amusement passed through the group. Then Laura’s voice.

“Tell them exactly what she said.”

Nat sighed.

“Fine. She said ‘I already told Fury and Barton no, and now I’m going to tell you Romanoff, no, a big fat fucking no, now get your Russian, double agent ass off my desk and fuck right off.’ She also had me escorted out of the building and had 001 revoke my access given to me under the partnership.”

"I like her already."

"Hush Tony."

Steve and Bucky exchanged a look. It definitely sounded like their girl but it also didn’t explain their soulmate being there now.

Bucky was next to speak. His voice still sounding a little broken.

“Was she, erm, like us? Is she like us? Was she frozen?”

“Buck we know she wasn’t, Peggy identified her.” he replied, tapping the file.

“What is this? May I look at this?” Asked Tony.

Steve nodded.

“Do you remember the liaison meetings around the time of the First Accords? A member of each agency was there?” The team nodded. “Well after Peggy’s estate was settled, one the British guys pushed that into my hand and left. It’s all about her, her background info, her career and what happened after us.”

“What happened?” Vision asked.

“Oh god.” Peppers voice interrupted. “Sorry I just.”

She pointed down and Steve could see she was reading the medical papers from when their soulmate was sectioned.

“She was institutionalised. Although the British call it sectioned. She was really insistent that we were both still alive. Kicked up quite a fuss. They had her sedated and shipped back home and put in a mental hospital.”

“They shouldn’t have done that Steve, they should have sent her to Ma like it said in our papers.” Bucky snapped tearfully.

“I know Buck. That’s why Peggy did what she did.”

“What did Agent Carter do exactly?” Asked Vision.

“She tried to get a guardianship.” Tony answered looking at the papers. “Wait, Dad’s name is here.”

“They both did. Your Dad and Peggy, but it was too late. She’d passed before.”

“Because of what they did to her?” Pepper asked.

“What do you mean? What they did to her?” Asked Bruce, finally breaking his silence. Tony glanced up at Steve.

“Can he see this?”

Steve clenched his jaw.

“It might help, that’s all, give us an idea of if she could have survived that.”

“She didn’t but fine.” Steve said through gritted teeth.

The file was passed down to Bruce, whose brow furrowed the moment he opened it.

“Jesus Christ.”

The room stayed silent as Bruce read through the file.

“I’m sorry Steve, Bucky, electric shock treatment of that amount, along with what they gave her, and the Broken Heart Syndrome. It’s unlikely she could have survived that.”

“She didn’t. The next piece of paper is signed by Peggy and Howard. Peggy identified her and registered her death. Howard paid for her funeral.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tony asked, disappointed in his tone.

“I was going to and then everything else happened. I was going to tell you and ask if you’d help me find the grave.”

“But there isn’t one right? I looked, there was nothing and that’s because she’s alive?” Asked Sam. Steve shook his head.

“May I add something Captain Rogers?” Asked Vision “I believe it may help the others understanding.”

Steve frowned but nodded.

“When Agents and Analyst, anyone above a a certain category joins an intelligence agency they under go testing and that now includes DNA and genetics, along with regular retesting. It would have raised concerns had she have been the age of Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes and her identity would have been revealed or at least have led her to S.H.I.E.L.D for investigation not recruitment.”

Tony and Bruce both nodded in agreement.

“Captain Rogers what was the purpose of light implications that Peggy was your soulmate?”

Steve went to speak but was interrupted by Bucky.

“I hated that by the way and so did she.”

“I know Buck but we had to keep her safe.” Steve paused for a moment before continuing, “I found her right before I went looking for Buck. Peggy said we needed two things, a plane and route in. Howard got the plane and our soulmate was the map girl. I felt it the moment I saw her. My luck never was the best and then I find her and it’s in a war zone, I’m about to go on a suicide mission to find my best friend. Our eyes met and I was falling over my feet like the little kid in Brooklyn.”

“He actually did fall over his own damn feet. Our girl had to help him up off the floor.”

The team laughed softly.

“It’s true, that gave your Dad and Peg some laughs.” He said to Tony.

“Tell them the rest.” Bucky smirked.

“I kissed her, practically threw myself at her and kissed her. She was not amused, she was pretty pissed.”

“What was it she said ‘you yanks are all the bloody same’.”

Steve smiled, “Something like that, she pushed me off, told me off and shoved a pair of maps into my hands. Buck met her when he came back to base.”

“I didn’t throw myself at her, as hard as it was not to, and at least brought her a drink first.”

Steve smiled again as Bucky shared his memory before starting again.

“It’s not documented anywhere but when we were out on a mission there was an attack back at the base, a small group of energy agents had snuck in on a delivery truck. One of them went into what we called the War Room, trying to see the plans. Well, that’s what Phillips' first thought. Our girl was in there with another agent who was shot and killed. She got into a scuffle with the enemy agent and disarmed him but he didn’t stop and he tried to hurt her, in the worst way possible. Buck had slipped a pocket knife into her stocking before we left and she used it. Peggy burst in and finished the job. When they searched his body, there was a photo, albeit a bad one but a photo and a description of her. They hadn’t just come to see our plans, they’d come for her.”

“That’s why everything was deleted?” Nat stated, “Why I couldn't find anything, pictures, film, newsreels, all of it?”

Steve nodded. “Peggy pointed out she was safer with us than back home, we had no idea who knew about her. Every single one of those agents had a damn picture of her.”

“Peg made some calls, she knew someone at the BBC, Pathe News, some had lost soulmates in the war, so they clipped every image of her out.” Bucky added.

“So the photograph in your compass? Of Agent Carter? It was a diversion tactic?” Asked Vision.

Steve nodded, smile now gone. Sam still confused asked questions.

“OK, I need to piece this together out loud for a second and you know I’ve got your backs right? But for the non science bros, or super intelligent creations, no offence”

Replies of “non taken” echoed round the room.

“You said Peggy identified her, after she’d passed, Howard paid for the funeral, so they hid her really damn well for seventy years or this ain’t your girl. Like Vis said someone would have flagged her age.”

“It’s her!” Bucky snapped.

“Buck.”

“I’m trying to be the voice of reason here, make sense of it all. Are you sure that’s her?” Sam asked pointing at the pictures Buck still held. “You said yourself, she was deleted from everything, you don’t have a point of reference, a photo. You’ve been through some shit, you’ve been froze. Also, there's no point of reference for any of us either, with everything gone, we've all tried to look. I'm just saying you’ve been through a lot. Maybe the memory is blurred.”

It was at this point Bucky lost it.

“I remember everything!” He cried out “I remember her, I remember my Ma, my sisters, everything, all the god damn awful fucking things I’ve done, that they made me do. Shuri pieced it altogether and the good things, the good memories, her, the memory of her is what gets me through, when I can’t do it, when I can barely breathe.”

“Buck take a breath.”

“Just show them Steve, they’re looking at me like I’m damn crazy, about to ship me back to Wakanda! Show them.”

Steve rose from his seat and pulled out his compass. A compass that had been seen on newsreels, in newspapers and in history books. He slowly opened it and carefully removed the picture of Peggy. Hidden behind the S.H.I.E.L.D founder was their soulmate.

Faded and a little rough round the ages but the others could now see it clearly for themselves as Steve set the compass down displaying the photograph. Bucky reluctantly placed those from Wanda beside it.

It was the same person. You. Soul sister to the Bartons, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner and most recently, Wanda Maximoff, were in both pictures.

And you were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes soulmate and you were alive.

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

[asphalt-cocktail]

Lead us to Temptation- Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Precious Lord Take my Hand

Summary: In the small town of Eden Ridge, you knew several things to be true: church happened every Sunday, the saloon served free lunch with the purchase of a drink on Thursdays, coal miners left work at 7PM sharp, and Bucky Barnes was a man sent from the depths of hell dangling the threat of temptation and sin right in front of your face. All you need to do is reach out and grab it.

A/N: As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are immensely appreciated. There will be no tag list because I am far too lazy to do that, but feel free to turn on notifications for me or bookmark it on AO3 where it will also be posted per usual.

Pairing: Outlaw!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Nicknames, religious themes, suggestive language, profanity, pining, mentions of criminal activity, period typical misogyny, physical fighting, mentions of alcohol and gambling

Word Count: 3.3k

Masterlist

Read me on AO3

There were a handful of things you could always count on happening in Eden Ridge: the saloon having a free lunch every Thursday with the purchase of a drink, church every Sunday, the coal miners leaving the mines at 7PM sharp, and that springtime would bring a sloppy muddy mess. When your family set out westward you stopped about halfway to Oregon and found your home in the town of Eden Ridge, named after the Eden Ridge Mountains which served as the beating heart for the small but quickly growing town.

The hills were full of coal and iron which your father proudly exploited along with the good hard working people of Eden. He controlled the mineral exports and the main work force in town. The hills acted as a hungry maw, devouring the hopes, dreams, and even bodies of the coal miners that dug down to the depths of hell just to keep your father’s pockets fat. It was the only town where the sunset was painted with a harrowing combination of orange and gray and where the air was so heavy with coal dust you could taste it.

Once your older brother was of age he quickly found a wife and married off, having two kids in the blink of an eye. It was common knowledge that your brother was the heir to the Eden Coal & Iron company, but only after he did his time laboring in the bowels of the Earth

The coal mines weren’t the place for a lady, so you didn't know much beyond the fact that your father was the owner and employed 90% of the town. You liked it that way, it kept you cleaner than your brother. You saw how filthy he was when he came back from a long day under the mountain, skin so blackened by coal and filth his eyes and teeth seemed to glow even though the hills stole the light away from them. But your father wasn't going to let your brother become some pencil pushing fancy boy if he could help it. If your daddy had to do his time in the mines, so did anyone who wanted to take over his business. It garnered respect from the laborers and it helped your brother get a glimpse of the bigger picture when it came to a business like this.

Your brother’s future was clear as crystal, but yours was always a frequent topic of discussion. Who were you going to marry being the number one. Since you were the ripe age of 25 your mother spent most of her time about town talking with the other wives and figuring out who the most eligible bachelor was. She told you not to worry, because she had a list made that you could take your pick from. You’d long since thrown away your dreams of traveling and leaving Eden Ridge, those were the dreams of a little girl, and mama always said dreaming was unholy. God gave you what you needed, nothing more, nothing less. So, you best be grateful for it. The older you grew, the more you questioned that statement. There was no way that your father needed to control the coal and iron exports in town. 

Your boots slapped against the wet, gray, mud as you walked through the town. You were grateful that your mother hemmed your skirt a couple of inches shorter than normal to try and help keep your dress clean and prevent it from dragging in the wet earth. 

Outside of the saloon a large group of people gathered right where you needed to walk through. You frowned, the closer you got the more you could tell how rowdy the crowd was and the closer you got the easier it became to see the two men fighting in the street. 

“You lying little snake.” One said swinging and punching the dark haired man in the jaw. 

James Buchanan Barnes. 

Of course he was the one getting his face rocked in the middle of the muddy street. You often wondered if he was the devil incarnate, a handsome sweet talking man brought up from the depths of hell to tempt you into sinning. It took all your strength not to give in and see what else his mouth could do if you just simply let him. For the last two months he’d taken every approach in the book to get you to go out to dinner with him and each time you shut him down. 

Hard.

He was relentless though, stubborn, insisted that he’d treat you good if you just let him and by God you knew he would. He’d been in town for a short but annoying two months and seemed to have quite the reputation with the ladies. If you had to hear one more woman giggle and go “Hi Bucky.” while wiggling her fingers you were going to be the next one kicking Bucky’s ass in the street God help you.

Bucky staggered, shaking his head, trying to unscramble his brains, his cheek was red and already beginning to swell from the blow “I’m a lot of things but I ain’t no damn snake.” He hissed back at the bald man, Tomas. 

“One of your little buddies was telling you what my cards were, I just know it.” Tomas yelled, tackling Bucky to the ground. The worst part was that one of them probably was helping Bucky cheat at cards. Anyone with a pair of brain cells knew he famously cheated at all card games, but Tomas famously lacked brain cells.

They struggled for a moment on the ground before Bucky got leverage, flipping the two over and sitting on top of the other man’s chest, “I told you I’m not a cheat.” He said, punching Tomas in the face, emphasizing each of his words as he spoke. 

Someone pushed through the crowd, Steve, one of his buddies, and grabbed him, “That’s enough Buck.” He spoke harshly, pulling his muddy friend off the unconscious Tomas, “Can we please go into town and not get arrested for once?” The blond grabbed Bucky by the back of his soiled light red button down similar to how a mother cat would carry a kitten by its scruff and shoved him down to walk towards their horses. 

You looked in the muck and saw a worn out, sun beaten hat discarded. You picked it up and looked over at the roughneck then back to the hat

“Excuse me!” You call after the pair, “Mr. Barnes!” 

Bucky turned, immediately recognizing your voice and grinned. It was truly blasphemous how handsome he looked despite the bruised cheek, cuts and dried blood, and black eye starting to form. The beat up look seemed to suit someone like him. “You know, we have got to stop meeting like this sugar.”

“I think you need to stop fist fighting before the sun has barely set.” You couldn't help but return the smile, it was contagious like the plague.

Gingerly, he took the hat from you and brushed some of the mud from his hat before putting it on and wiping his hands clean on his soiled jeans, “I was fighting for my honor!” He completely ignored Steve, following you instead as you began to walk off.

You scoffed, “Honor, sure…” you mumbled, “was someone telling you what the cards were?” 

Bucky grinned proudly, “Of course, Sam always helps me when we play cards.” 

“There is a special circle in hell for liars and cheaters, Mr. Barnes.” 

“Sweetheart I’ve done much worse than lie and cheat, I think I’ll be forgiven for this one.” He statement sounded dismissive and you didn't doubt that wasn't true for a second. There was something mysterious about Bucky Barnes and the crew he ran with. You never could quite figure out what he did for work or what his source of income was, but you figured it was A: impolite to ask and B: not something you wanted to have any part of. “When are you going to let me take you to dinner?” Bucky almost whined, grabbing your hand and stopping you. 

You turned, yanking your hand out of his grasp “When I’m dead.” 

Bucky groaned in annoyance, “I’d treat you so good sweetheart, better than any of these other guys around town.” He reached out for your hand again. This was a talk the two of you had at least twice a week for the last two months, three times if you were extra unlucky.

“I can’t.” Bucky Barnes was the type of man fathers warned their daughters about, and boy did your father have a rather strong warning when it came to Mr. Barnes. “My Daddy warned me to stay away from men like you. A roughneck like you brings nothing but trouble to a good girl’s life.”

“Sweetheart, your daddy has no idea the type of man I am, trust me.” He stepped in front of you, stopping you from walking, “Just humor me and let me take you to dinner, no funny business, promise.” He put his hands on your hips, “How’s about tomorrow, I take you to dinner in the next town over. That way you don’t need to worry about any prying eyes from these nosey folks.” 

Bucky was serving your words to you on a supper plate and gave you a fork to eat them. You told yourself, just this once, and maybe that would get him off your back. Maybe he would go bother some other poor girl. But the thought of that kind of pissed you off, you didn't need to look deep down to know that you enjoyed the little game the two of you played. “No funny business?” All you needed was one little taste, nothing more.

“No funny business.” Bucky echoed you, nodding his head.

It didn't sound so bad going and grabbing dinner in the next town over. Thunder Creek was a lovely area, great food, great music, no one from Eden Ridge to run and tell your family you were out with the local drifter, “How about you ask me once your face doesn’t look such a mess.”

Bucky beamed at you, “Deal.” 

The next time you saw Bucky, almost a full week had passed. His face had healed nicely; the big purple bruise under his eye was now a yellowish color, and the cut along his nose and cheek had scabbed over and shrank. “Have you thought about my offer, dear?” He asked, leaning on the hitching post as you readied your horse. He looked like a stray dog seated in front of a plate of steak, hungry and ready to devour like Saturn himself.

It distracted you, caught you off guard even, “What? About dinner?” You licked your lips nervously and couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze again “Yes, I’m free tomorrow evening. I’ll meet you at the train station at 3 and we can ride over” 

He looked victorious, like he’d won a marathon, like he’d just been told God had saved him a spot in heaven, “3 o’clock at the train station.” He repeated back to let you know he heard and he would be there.

You weren’t shocked to see Bucky already waiting on a bench at the train depot at 3pm sharp just like you’d asked. What shocked you was the fact that you’d managed to travel the two hours to the next town over and have a nice sit down meal with him, all without him making a single pass at you. He made small talk, asking you about your horse and how long you had him for, asking you your favorite books, your life before moving out here, your fathers mining company. He picked your brain and devoured every piece of information you gave him, listening actively and intently.

You learned a lot about him as well. Bucky was 10 years older than you and hailed from New York, which explained his odd hybrid accent. He fought in the civil war as a boy some 20 years ago for the union which was where he met Steve, John, and Sam then they managed to pick up Peter along the way. He called him and his troupe ‘traveling workers’, they went from town to town doing odd jobs and when those ran out or they overstayed their welcome they left, moving on to the next town. 

What he didn’t tell you was that he was a wanted man in 3 states, his traveling work consisted of robbing banks and trains, rustling cattle, and stealing horses, with a small dash of bounty hunting, and a big dash of murder. Sure there was some good honest work sprinkled in there to help keep his conscience clean but it was mostly crime. 

He’d originally come to town to rob the local bank, since Eden Ridge was on the up and up, which meant lots of people came here with lots of money to start a new life and those rich assholes needed somewhere to store it all. His plan was to steal most of the money and use it to finance his next run to the next town and help pay off some of the minor bounties tied to his boys’ heads, but you were a bit of a distraction from his original plan 

It almost made him not want to go through with it.  

Almost. 

Bucky liked you, he liked your soft curves, how you somehow managed to never have a speck of mud on your dress, he liked how sassy you got with him, like when you told him you hoped his horse would drop dead after he flicked mud in your face, and he liked the pretty white lace prayer veil you wore to church every Sunday. He wanted to marry you, come home to you wearing a little apron cooking dinner with a child on your hip. With HIS child on your hip. God the thought of making you his wife drove him near feral. 

There was an added bonus to how pissed off it would make your no good crook of a father that made Bucky want to do it even more. 

But, since a man was only as good as his word, he stayed true to his no funny business promise and only took you to dinner. You hated that he was a perfect gentleman and actually made you feel nice and cared for. You had no doubt that this was how he was able to get the other girls in town wrapped around his finger. 

“You gonna let me walk you to church on Sunday too?” Bucky asked, grinning like the cat that swallowed the canary. He knew all the right things to say to you much to your chagrin. 

You chewed your lip nervously, your father would not like it if he saw Bucky walking you to church and you knew that to be truer than the word of God itself. But, He had been such a perfect gentleman at your little dinner date, “Fine. But you can’t sit with us for the mass, my parents don’t like you.” You didn’t care if what you said hurt his feelings, it was true and you wanted to be kind enough to spare him the judgemental gaze of your father while Father Liska spoke the word of God, “And you have to sit through the mass and walk me home after.”

“Ok, deal.” Bucky grinned, a win was a win after all.

Bucky was more nervous about stepping foot into a church than he was to walk you there. Women he could handle, religion… well not so much. He half expected to burst into flames the moment he stepped foot into the holy threshold. He swapped out the filth covered denim for his best set of trousers and wore his nicest button up, just for you. 

You didn’t have to worry about the prying eyes of your family when he came to your home to pick you up for your short little walk. Bucky greeted you at the door, you had to admit he cleaned up nicely, “You look nice, sugar.” Bucky reached up and and touched the scalloped edge of your mantilla, rubbing the delicate lace between his rough fingers. 

You swatted his hand away, “Don’t touch that.” You hissed and adjusted the head covering. 

Bucky reached out his hand for you to hold, begrudgingly, you took it, “Are we going to get dinner again sweets?” He tried to act coy by not looking at you, but you knew. He didn’t spend two months practically begging at your feet for dinner only to maybe want a second one. 

You gave him an inch and he was going to take a mile. Maybe even two miles if he was feeling extra bold. 

Bucky held the large wooden doors of the church open for you. He was flooded with the overwhelming scent of frankincense as he entered the church. It has been years since he’d set place in a place of worship. Maybe communing with god would be good for him. You looked uncomfortable under the watchful eyes of people kneeling, your presence disrupting their pre service prayers. 

You dipped your fingers into the holy water and crossed yourself, holding your head high. Oh, they were going to have a lot to talk about at their weekly bible studies. You, showing up with a man to church? Well that was going to be the talk of the congregation, hell, it was going to be the talk of the town! 

Bucky gave your hand a comforting squeeze before he dropped it, suddenly feeling the watchful eye of the Lord upon him. He gave you a polite nod and you almost wished you didn't tell him to sit elsewhere because now you had to walk down the aisle to the front of the room while everyone stared.

Your mother looked at you and you chose to ignore her until she leaned over and tugged at the sleeve of your dress, “What is all that about?” She said and nodded back towards Bucky. 

He looked uncomfortable, like a bull in a china shop, sitting stiffly next to the Barton family. If he managed to sit through Sunday mass it would definitely get him bonus points and another dinner, “Nothing Mother.” You knew you were going to have to answer her poking and prodding after the service. 

Father Liska finished the sermon and it took all your strength to not book it out of the church. You waited, ambushed by your mother who wanted to play twenty questions about Bucky. The number one being: do you think you’ll marry him? She loved to emphasize that you were a bit too bold and men didn’t like it when you told them to drop dead or that you’d rather walk across hot coals than meet with them. She would probably die early of a broken heart if you became a spinster. 

“Please mother, we’ve only gotten dinner once and today I let him walk me to church. It’s nothing serious.” You hissed and hushed her once you saw Bucky walking over.

“Everything is serious when it comes to courting, dear.” Your mother reminded you. Marrying you off was serious business and she in some ways was your manager. “Mr. Barnes.” Your mother greeted him, almost breathlessly and offered her hand to him, “It's such a pleasure to meet you, thank you so much for accompanying our daughter to mass today.” 

Bucky bent, kissing your mothers knuckles, you rolled your eyes at the display of chivalry, “It was truly my pleasure ma’am.” Of course mothers loved Bucky Barnes, why wouldn’t they? He was the type of man mothers loved and the type of man fathers warned their daughters about.

“I can’t believe you made him sit all the way in the back,” your mother chastised you, blushing after Bucky kissed her hand, “ Mr. Barnes dear, near Sunday please sit with us, we’ve got the best spot in the congregation.” 

“Well Daddy doesn’t like him.” You said frowning, “What if Bucky doesn’t want to come to mass next Sunday?”  

“Oh nonsense, he’ll be here next Sunday,” Your mother answered for him, “He loved the sermon today, didn’t you, dear?” 

Bucky flashed another pleasant grin at your mother, “Of course, I loved hearing, uh, Father.... Father...” 

“Liska” You filled in the gap for him knowing he never set foot into the Church of St. Michael the  Archangel for the entirety of his two months here. 

“Right, Father Liska, I thought it was incredibly moving.” You said a silent prayer for God to smite him down.

 “Why don’t you come by the house for lunch.” Your mother urged him.

You shot Bucky a glare, “Oh I don’t think I should.” He said after glancing at you, if looks could kill Bucky would be 6 ft under.

“Bucky can stop by when he picks me up for dinner later in the week. Let’s not bore the poor man any longer.” You hooked your arm in his and pulled him towards the door, “Goodbye mother.” You said sharply. 

Bucky patted your hand with his own, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.” 

You huffed, “I am most certainly not jealous.” You took your arm back and crossed them over your chest. You were jealous. Jealous and annoyed mainly with your mother.

“Don’t worry sugar there’s plenty of me to go around.” He grinned and stuffed his hands in his pockets. 

Chapter 2- Good Old Fashioned Catholic Guilt

[endless-summer-soldier]

cruel to be kind - chapter six

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (90s college AU)

summary: it started with a dare. Bucky restlessly pursues Y/N, seeking just one date. as he chases her, he realizes she's different from she challenges him, so he starts to catch feelings. but it all falls apart when she learns about his initial motivations. based on 10 things I hate about you!

warnings: alcohol use, cursing

word count: 1.5k

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Y/N sat on a baja blanket, staring out into the ocean, wondering if he would come. Sam confirmed he was able to sneak Bucky the mixtape, but Y/N wasn’t sure that he had decoded her message. On the tracklist, she underlined different letters and numbers that read “Sat 2PM 7th St Beach.” It was subtle, which was her style, but she wasn’t even sure he would figure it out. Hell, he might not even have noticed the pattern. In her mind, it was almost like a test. If he didn’t decode the message, then things weren’t meant to be. 

She eyed the book sitting in her lap, willing herself to at least try to read to distract her mind. But everytime she finished a page, she checked her watch to see what time it was. It was now 1:56 and the weight residing in her stomach grew heavier. Who was she kidding, he wasn’t going to show up. This whole thing was stupid and she was kicking herself for ever thinking it was a good idea. She hated this feeling. This was why she pushed people away. Being vulnerable was the easiest way to get hurt. 

And now a tear was falling down her cheek. She was so in her head about things that she was crying. She quickly wiped the single tear off her cheek and laid back on the blanket, placing the open book over her face. She had to get her shit together. She would not be the girl crying over a guy. Y/N took in a deep inhale and breathed out of her mouth, calming her nervous system. The oxygen was all she needed to clear her head. Her decision was made.

She stood in the sand and tossed her book in her bag. She folded up her blanket and collected her sandals, trudging through the sand to the boardwalk.

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving already. I’m only a few minutes late, and for good reason.” Bucky stood in front of her, in his signature leather jacket, with two cups of coffee in his hands.

“What are you doing here,” she stated more than asked, adding a few more bricks to the wall that was guarding her heart.

“I got your message,” he smiled. He walked closer towards her and handed her a cup of coffee. “Figured we had some catching up to do,” he added.

She stood there, still processing this. He came. He figured out the message and he showed up. He passed the test. She hadn’t really thought through what would actually happen if he came. And now here he was, standing in front of her.

Before she could respond, Bucky stepped closer, taking the blanket out of her hands and splaying it out over the sand.

“Come on,” he urged her. She didn’t object, sitting down next to him as they looked out onto the ocean.

“I’ve never heard you this quiet before. You usually have a biting remark queued up as soon as you see me.”

“I do not,” she argued.

“See, that’s better already,” he joked, giving her shoulder a light nudge.

“I didn’t think you would come,” she admitted.

“You didn’t think I would come or you didn’t think I would decode your message?”

 “The latter is probably a bit more accurate,” she said sheepishly.

“I know it may seem like I’m just a pretty face, but I’ve been known to have clever thoughts every so often.”

His attempts at getting her to loosen up were moderately successful, but she still wasn’t willing to open up just yet. Luckily, Bucky had planned for this. He knew this conversation would take some work.

“Are you happy to see me here?” he asked.

She let out a sigh, “I am. I hate to admit this, but I missed you these past few weeks.”

Bucky placed a hand over his heart, “You missed me?”

She hit his bicep with the back of her hand, “Don’t make me say it again.”

“I missed you too. And all I wanted was to talk to you and explain things. So thank you for giving me the opportunity to do that.”

She merely nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“So let me start by admitting that I am a complete idiot and I probably don’t even deserve a second chance, but I appreciate you giving me a chance to redeem myself.”

“Good start,” she commented.

“I agreed to the dare just to get Zemo to shut up. And I think the only reason I really went for it is because you intrigued me. I always found you attractive but I never pursued you because…well honestly you don’t come across as very friendly.”

Y/N chuckled and he continued.

“And then when I first talked to you, it was like I had this need for you to like me. I wanted to figure out what made you tick, and the more time I spent with you, the more I liked you. I need you to know that everything I said was true and that the person you spent all that time with was the real me. The dare just gave me a reason to talk to you. These past few weeks I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I haven’t been eating, I’ve barely slept, knowing that I hurt you has been killing me. I can promise you, I will never hurt you again. I think I might be in love with you, and this is the first time I’ve ever felt this way so I’m still figuring it all out, but I will do anything to win you back. I’ll bring you breakfast every morning, I will carry all your books and walk you to class every day, I will give you my car. Whatever you need, I’ll do it. Just please, give me another chance.”

She was quiet for a second, processing his words. 

“Could you, like, say something?” he asked nervously, struggling to read her expression.

“I’m thinking,” she responded. “Did you rehearse that?”

He was confused by her question, but answered anyway. “I mean I had points I wanted to hit on. I think I may have strayed a little bit towards the middle but I think I ended strong.”

She gave him a small smile, “Do you really mean it all or are you just telling me what I want to hear?”

He took her hand, “Y/N, I’m not here to bullshit you. I mean every single word. You are the world to me.”

“You used the l-word,” she commented. Bucky found it cute that she couldn’t say love. 

“Yeah I wasn’t planning on saying that, but it’s true. I do love you.” He ran his thumb up and down the back of her hand. She was quiet again, thinking through her response. She never took this long to respond, usually she went with whatever popped into her head. Bucky took her hand and placed it to his chest. “Do you feel that? How fast my heart is beating? It gets like that every time I’m around you. And my stomach always feels like there’s a million butterflies fluttering around in there. You do that to me.”

“I love you too.” It fell off her lips so easily, Bucky thought he must have misheard. 

“You do?” he asked in disbelief. She bit her bottom lip and shyly nodded her head, trying to hide the smile on her lips. He lost control. He lunged at her, essentially tackling her down onto the blanket as he squeezed her into a tight hug. When he pulled away ever so slightly, his face hovered above hers. 

“Are you gonna let me kiss you?” he asked. She simply nodded and his lips were on hers, making up for their lost time. It almost scared her, how easily she fell back into the kiss. Her hand found his jaw as she held him close, not wanting him to leave her vicinity. This was the moment she’d been waiting for and it didn’t disappoint. The spark was there, the longing was there, the love was there. And in that moment she knew that she never wanted to be without him.

They kissed and cuddled for a while and then they sat there together and watched the sunset. Y/N leaned back into Bucky’s arms as he kept her warm from the crisp autumn air. They talked about nothing and everything, trying to catch up on the weeks they had missed. And in that moment she knew she would never grow tired of this. He had somehow managed to thaw her frozen exterior and taught her that love was worth the risk of pain. 

As it started to get darker, they packed up their spot on the beach and headed back to the boardwalk. She knew she wasn’t leaving his side tonight. She’d spent too much time away from him and she wasn’t ready to separate just yet.

“Keys please,” she said, holding out her hand. 

“Oh are you driving?” he asked skeptically.

“Well yeah, it is my car now,” she replied easily.

Bucky leaned his head back, “Of course, how could I forget.” He placed the keys in her open hand, before wrapping his strong arm over her shoulder and pulling her in close to kiss her temple. 

[meyerlansky]

Something I think is interesting about the punch on the wing scene in MOTA is that Bucky says “I order you to hit me,” and then immediately after (I’m 90% sure it’s his next line after Curt speaks) says “ranks off.” Like… you can’t order someone to punch you (effectively pulling rank) and then say no more ranks. I mean you can, because he did, but yeah

Y E A H! IT DRIVES ME CRAZY ACTUALLY!!!

like you can take bucky's "that's an order" as a wink-wink nudge-nudge crack at the fact that uhhh neither of them really give a shit about rank on the ground: if curt did he wouldn't step up to gale about the RAF captains, and if any of the four majors in the scene did they'd have stopped a lieutenant from taking a hit his commanding officer stepped up for. i don't even really think curt cares about bucky ordering him to hit him, not in the sense of "i am a good little soldier, i can't disobey an order 🫡" anyway. when curt brings the ranks up, he's really REALLY obviously using it as a soft no, both to give bucky an opportunity to laugh it off and save face AND to try and get out of being made to do something he does NOT want to do even though his friend asked him for it. and even after that, he has to be pushed EVEN MORE into actually swinging. he gives bucky two very obvious soft no's, and only throws the punch after bucky physically pushes him into it. that's what we in the know call "coerced consent," baybee!

and then, boy i wish i wasn't at work so i could post caps, but AFTER THAT they have this little exchange that just feels fucking awful to watch: curt is watching bucky reel from the hit looking very concerned, and when bucky stands up he kind of backs away and puts his hands up like he thinks bucky's gonna swing back. bucky kind of sidles up to him and pats him on the shoulder—very "big dog who wants to play-fight with someone smaller" body language, as a note 😳—and it looks like everything's fine, but then as he walks over to the edge of the wing he shoots curt this look that's... a little resentful? maybe? like he wasn't expecting curt to hit him THAT hard? and curt turns away AFTER that look, so i think he caught it, and he looks SO FUCKING MISERABLE for the rest of the scene, even after bucky grins at him and i want to rip my own throat out about it actually

tangent ahead, my meta-writer roots are showing, i cannot help myself: bucky's relationship to his rank and authority is fascinating to me, actually. he really only wants it when it's convenient and it gets him what he wants. he doesn't want air exec because he feels left out of the fighting and guilty for being safe when everyone else is up, which is not THE most selfish on the surface, but it is still him prioritizing his feelings over doing the job he was given and thereby keeping the ENTIRE GROUP safe. he's buddy-buddy with the other pilots until he wants curt to hit him or crank to stop saying shit he doesn't want to hear [which imo is worse, even though i agree with bucky wrt Fuck 'Em; at least he was alone with curt on the wing, but making crank say "yes sir" in front of his ENTIRE CREW? ouch. ouch!]. he plays favorites in the air, with curt AND gale, and puts MULTIPLE FORTS FULL OF MEN in danger to get them out of tight spots. he basically abdicates all leadership responsibility in the stalag and puts it all on gale, up to and including only really discussing escape for the two of them, not their crews.

and like, i get it! i 100% understand why he's as selfish as he is, and in particular i wouldn't expect his internal logic to be consistent while he's White Girl Wasted as a—very bad, but really his Only Available—coping method for very deep trauma and grief. but he's SO self-centered, basically all the time, and it is such an interesting trait in contrast to the rest of his character, which is: he's fundamentally a good guy. i buy what he says to paulina, that he signed up because he wanted to help right nazi germany's wrongs. he's the one who says "maybe we should think about them" when the tuskeegee airmen roll in, and you can take that a couple of ways, but i personally don't think gale would've talked to alex without that push from bucky. he gets bitter about lil and dye for a hot minute [again, while drinking] but then gets over it REAL quick to reassure her dye'll be fine. he writes the letters to the families of the guys they lose over bremen even though it's not his responsibility As Of Five Minutes Ago. he SNAPS after the mustang fires on the march column, because simoleit put his men in danger with the night marches. he was absolutely NEVER going to shoot the german kids in westphalia, vs gale who is SO OBVIOUSLY talking himself OUT of murdering a child. he does actually care about people! even people he doesn't know! and i don't actually think he'd shrug off his abuses of rank and skirting authority, if it was pointed out to him and it impacted people he didn't want to hurt. which is why i wrote 2.6k of navel-gazy fic about it, even though he only finds out curt's hurt because of him at the end of the fic but shhh

[rqsser]

my apology for taking so long to get new chapters out!!

this takes place in the 80s-90s — around the same time as top gun

~~

John makes his way through the crowd, searching for at least one face that he could recognize. It’s shore leave for the holidays, a whole month. John could usually wait to see his family, but it’s been well over a year since he’s seen them so he can’t help but be ecstatic. He grins widely when he spots his mother with his younger sister near the back of the families welcoming their friends and family with open arms.

“Mom?” he calls out over the buzzing people. His mother’s head snapped towards him, making eye contact. John waves and pushes through the crowd, smiling all the way. He sees his mom grab his sister’s arm and pull her into the crowd with him, he laughs to himself at the sight of Lily rolling her eyes and trying to pull herself away.

Before he can even look at his family, Jonn is met with a bone crushing hug from both his mother and sister. “John!” Lily yells into his chest.

“Hey, guys. Good to see you, too,” John chuckles as Lily’s arms grow tighter around him before he starts wheezing.

His mom lets go, “C’mon, Lily. Let Johnny breathe.”

The teenager sighs and lets go of her brother, mumbling something under her breath. John snickers and looks around, “Is anyone else—” he cuts himself off. Over his mother’s shoulder, he spots Gale, walking away from the crowd of excited families, alone.

“What, Jonn?” Lily asks, confused.

“Hold this, I’ll be right back.” Jonn shoves his bag into his sister’s arms and jogs over to Gale, his siblings watch.

“Hey, Buck,” John says once he catches up to him, the man in question turns to him.

“Yeah, Bucky?”

“Don’t you have anyone picking you up?” He questions, his eyebrows furrowing.

Gale sighs, “No, I don’t. My dad is somewhere… No idea where, but I’m not important enough for him to pick me up.” John feels horrible when Gale only shrugs at the fact.

Jonn looks at him sympathetically. “I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.” Gale nods.

Jonn strides back over to his sister and mother with an idea. “Okay, so, would it be alright if I bring someone?”

His mom raises an eyebrow at him. “Who?” John points a thumb over his shoulder at his best friend who is standing awkwardly behind them with his duffle bag in hand.

“Him.”

Lily looks around John’s body and squints in the blackness of the night. “It’s too dark, I can’t see him.”

John rolls his eyes and turns around, “Hey, Buck! Come over here!”

Galw blinks. He slowly starts to saunter over to them cautiously, slinging his bag around his shoulder while doing so. “My God, he takes so long,” John says under his breath.

“Yeah, Bucky?” Gale peers at him looking puzzled but still smiling with his shining teeth, his gaze shifts between him and his family, who look quite similar to him. All with brunette mops of curls atop their heads and long legs. Lily looks up at him then quickly looks down at the ground.

“Okay. Mom, Lily, this is my best friend; Buck Cleven, or Gale, I guess. Buck, this is my mom and sister, Wendy and Lily,” John introduces them. John’s mother smiles brightly at Gale and shakes his hand, he then nudges Lily.

She looks up with a shy smile. “Nice to meet you.” John rolls his eyes fondly at her.

Gale grins down at her with a welcoming curve of his full lips, “You too.”

“Anyways, would that be okay, Mom? Would you mind?” John pleads his mom, who grins and nods excitedly.

“I think it would be lovely to host your friend!”

~~

i wrote this so long ago i actually forgot it existed

i have lots of these unfinished drabbles in my docs!!

[andydrysdalerogers]

To The Limit - Five

F1 Racer Johnny Storm x OFC Maya Levinson

Summary: He's been away from the sport for 2 years. He has 24 races to prove he belongs here. There are two things that could derail this: his family and her.

She's the one thing he is willing to push to the limit for.

This a sequel to my original story, "Following Team Orders" If you want to get caught up in my Formula One world, you can find it HERE

The tag list is open!

Future Warnings: references to a partner's death, cheating (but not by the MCs,) alcohol consumption, SMUT!, angst, racing incidents, language, grief, etc.

Moon Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Car divider and Banners by me!

Previous Chapter: Three

Story Master List // Main Master List

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Two Years Ago 

Johnny 

I closed the door to my suite and ran a hand through my hair.  Ferrari was “kind” enough to allow me to stay here and booked me a flight home since the news of my firing was being withheld until after the holidays.  Nick said something about the sponsor or whatever.  Frankly, I tuned him out after he told me I wasn’t being re-signed.  

But now I face Molly.  We had one night together a couple of months ago and she’s now pacing back and forth.  I took her in as I waited for her to speak. She was a beauty. Chestnut hair that fell to the middle of her back, dark blue eyes and a body that could make any man fall to his knees.  I was willing to spend several nights with her, but she disappeared the morning after.  I asked Liv what happened, and she had no idea.  

“Johnny, I’m really sorry for ghosting you like that.” Molly is ringing her hands over and over.  “I just... I’ve never done that before and...” 

I take her hands in mine.  “Hey, hey, hey, breathe Molly. Take a deep breath.” She inhales. “Slowly let it out.” She follows my directions, but I can still feel her trembling in my hands. “What’s going on?” 

A single tear falls down her cheek.  

“Johnny, I’m pregnant.”  

Present 

When you are a cocky bastard like I was, you don’t make a lot of friends. I had Charles but that was about it. At least, until Olivia.  

Olivia Williams, now Rogers, was a force of nature.  She is the sixth woman to compete in Formula One and the only female champion.  When she came here, every red-blooded man thought the same thing: I want to bang her.  And trust me, I took my shot, but she very nicely put me down.  The day we became friends was one of her worst days.  I didn’t take advantage, though lord knows I would have but she was my fellow driver, my co-worker, my sister at arms.  She needed me to be her brother in that moment and I was.  

We talked more after that.  Hung out and got to know each other. I knew about her assumed unrequited love with her racing partner, Steve. I knew about how she had thrown herself into dating his best friend, Bucky. She was lost but I tried to be her anchor in the storm.  She was under a lot of pressure and Rogers did not make that easier.  

I was happy for them, truly, when they both got their heads out of their asses and finally got together. And I was able to make friends with Steve and Bucky. Besides Charles, I am closest to Liv and that’s how I find myself at their house in London a week before Australia. I sipped my coffee as my son bounced on Steve’s knee and he “baby talked” with him, blowing raspberries on his little round belly.  

Ever seen a six-foot, two-time champion talk baby talk with a 15-month-old? It so disgustingly cute. 

“Practicing?” I comment to him as Mattie giggles from the raspberries on his belly. Mattie babbles a little, almost ready to talk.  

“Absolutely.” Steve is beaming and that’s rare for a man I know to be serious 90% of the time.  He’s only ever chill when it comes to Olivia except when he’s in protective mode.  

Liv comes in with a plate of cookies and a bottle for Mattie. “Can I feed him?” she asks. I nod and she takes my son into her arms.  “Here we go, Mattie, some milky to help you sleepy,” she coos. The little shit always bats his lashes at a pretty girl, especially Liv.  

“I would say something about having your boy backing off my woman but he’s just too damn cute,” Steve says as he takes a sip of his coffee. “Thank god he takes after his mother.”  

“Flick off Roger,” I reply, grabbing a cookie.  

“Flick? Really?” 

"I’m trying not to swear in front of my kid. He’s so close to talking and the last thing I need is his first word to be a swear. Molly would have my ass.” I stop as I realize what I said. I swallow and try not to let the mood go down.  

Steve changes his temperament quickly. “Hey, sorry, guess it something I should learn now with my own baby coming.”  

“Yeah,” I chucked flatly. “Babies change everything.  Most of the time for good.”  I run a finger of my son’s cheek as he sucks on his bottle. I hate that he’s getting big.  soon he’ll be talking and walking away from me. He’s so close to walking.  

We sit quietly for a few minutes as Mattie drifts off.  I take him from Liv and put him in the portable crib Liv and Steve keep for me in their house.  “Have a good nap, Slugger.” I head back out to the garden and sit.  

“Not that I don’t love when you visit, Torch, but I’m surprised you're here. I thought you would be at the factory or something.” 

“I needed some advice, and I knew if I didn’t bring Mattie, you’d castrate me.”  

Liv smiles and shrugs. “I love my godson, sue me.”  

I snort. “Yeah, well, I do have kind of a big problem.” I take a sip of my own coffee. “You know how Ari agreed to keep Mattie away from the spotlight and helping me and Susie with privacy?” They nod and I continue. “Our PR rep found out.”  

“Maya?” I nod. “Oof, I know she didn’t take that well.”  

“She doesn’t know.” I look at the ground. 

“That he’s your son or...” 

“No, I said he is my son, but she doesn’t know the whole story. She doesn't know... she doesn’t know about Molly or anything.” Liv tries to speak but Steve stops her to let me continue. “We ran into Maya as we were leaving, and I got us out of there without an explanation. I’ve been dodging her calls and just following my scheduled as instructed.  But with the race weekend coming up I know my avoiding time is coming to an end.”  

Steve studies me for a bit.  “You like her.”  A statement not a question.  

“Yeah, I do.  She’s nice or whatever.” I explain us meeting at the gala and having a great night but then a week later, Molly came back and I let go of Maya in my mind. I shake myself from the memories. “I haven’t felt like this in a long time.”  

“You want to go out with her,” Steve continues.  

“She has a boyfriend.  She’s dating that Sainz guy.” I grit my teeth. “The guy who took my spot.”  

“Easy, Torch.” Liv touches my arm. “He got hired after.”  

“Whatever,” I shrug her off. “Either way, I have to give her an explanation and I’m just not sure what to say.”  

“Be honest,” Steve offers. “She may not be with him forever and you never know. I wish I had done that with Liv. It would have saved us a lot of heartache.” Liv nods in agreement and leans her head on his shoulder. “That's my opinion at least.”  

Honesty. Why didn’t I think of that.  

Maya 

Being the public relations person for a Formula One team is not as easy as stats and winners.  the public is invested in the team, the cars, the drivers that, when I started, I had to take notes on things I hear over the radio and ask Ari about them later. Nowadays, I know everything that is happening with the team.  

Except for Johnny Storm 

The shock I felt when he introduced his son to me hasn’t lessened in the two weeks since. He has a son. A beautiful son who is his duplicate except for his hair.  He has chestnut waves compared to Johnny’s blond. He didn’t look more than a year old.  

How did he keep a secret like this from the world? I investigated and searched everything on the man. The last article that he was in before his return was an obituary. That was odd and I disregarded it.  The last article before that was about his dismissal from Ferrari.   

That was handled with the grace of a rhinoceros.  Ferrari did him dirty. I was angry when I read the releases. They didn’t even give him a chance to shop; they just let his contract run out on the promise of a renewal.  Then to announce Carlos less than an hour later, I would have fired my PR team for it and then raised hell with management.  

Johnny was a beloved driver on and off the track. He did so much for Ferrari and suddenly he was gone.   

And now I know why.  

It didn't make sense before, why didn’t he approach other teams.  He had a baby to take care of.  That leads to more questions, like where is his mother and why is his sister caring for his son.  How did no one know?  

Johnny is an enigma. Before, he was a hot head speed demon. Fearless on the track.  He was good, great even. Why Ferrari let him go is everyone’s guess.  Only Nick Fowler would know. I would love to solve this.  

But I would need Johnny to answer my fucking calls.  

First thing in PR is that you have to know everything. Nothing can remain a secret, especially if you are trying to keep a secret. This led to a confrontation with my brother... 

I stormed into his office, slamming the door closed. “Ari, are you trying to kill me?” 

He put down the report he was reading. “Maya...” 

“No! You can’t keep things from me, especially when it could lead to a shitstorm.  He has a kid that no one knows about!” 

“I know! He told me before he accepted the job.”  Ari sit against his desk, legs and arms crossed. “I know it's a big deal but he’s just trying to protect his son and his past.”  

“And I can help with that if I was read in!” I huffed in exasperation. “I need to know everything, Ari, you know this.  The best defense is the best offense. You need to get him to talk to me.”  

“Alright, alright. I’ll talk with him. But give him some grace Maya. Listen to his story before you pass your PR judgment.”  

Now, I was waiting for Johnny to finish up with practice. The Australian sun is unforgiving to the cars today and everyone is struggling with tires. But I can hear the frustration in his voice. The car is not handling the way he wanted, losing force on the straight away. This isn’t the sun causing problems.  

Johnny: tell me the engineers are seeing this. It’s fucking ridiculous   Liv: they are on it Torch 

Johnny: I have so much more power out of the corners. The front right is struggling on the straight.   Liv: copy 

I turn and look at Ari. He has a grimace and makes a note on his notebook. I snort at the image. My brother is still so old school. Like he doesn’t have a bank of monitors and computers not to mention his phone to use. “Dinosaur,” I mumble under my breathe. Liv heard me and changed her chuckled to a cough to cover up.  

Liv calls out to Johnny to box the car. I watch as our silver arrow comes in and watch the mechanics pull the car into the garage and start cooking it down. Once parked, Johnny climbs out rather calmly for someone who is very frustrated.  

Ari walks right up to him. “Tell me what you’re feeling?” Johnny looks at him lost. “How did the car feel?” 

Johnny looks pensive, as if he’s trying to find the right words. “It pulls,” he starts, “as soon as I hit the corner. When I exit at the straight, I feel the cars downforce struggle like extra weight is being added. Once I can get enough force to move, it too late to take advantage of DRS.”  

“Ok good.” Ari smiles a little. “Anything else?” 

Johnny stares at him but what he says next leaves me curious.  “I don’t feel connected to the car. I feel like we aren’t one yet. I used to feel that but right now I feel like an imposter.”  

“There,” Ari points at him. “That’s what I’m looking for.  You need to reflect and think about that. You aren’t an imposter. You are a Formula One driver.  You need to let go of everything on the outside and feel the car like it's a part of you.”  

“I can’t do that,” Johnny argues back. He glances at me but doesn’t stop.  “I can’t not think about him and what would happen if something happened to me. I’m the only one he has.”  

“Storm, you are not alone in this.  Matthew is not alone. He is surrounded by this team, this family. You must trust that while you have car, we have Mattie and you.  We’ll do our best to get you back to you son every time. But you need to let go of the fear that is holding you back.”  

“I don’t know how.” Johnny looks defeated, like he’s failing. 

“That’s ok. We do have the team psychologist. Talk to her and see what she can do to help.  I know it's been hard without...” my brother pauses, and I make a note of that. Ari clears his throat. “But I want you to succeed. For yourself, your son.”  

I’m impressed that Ari didn’t mention the team.  He’s in charge of the team, has to care about its wellbeing. But right now, he’s a friend, a mentor. I decide to speak up. “Johnny, you don’t have to worry about press. I’ll coach you on what to say so we can downplay the difficulties with the car.” 

He finally looked at me and then nodded.  

“Good. Head back to the hotel and rest.” Ari looked at me. “After you meet with Maya.” Well, that’s one way to get what I want. I give Johnny a PR smile. He clenches his jaw in reaction. He’s not happy to talk to me but I have no idea why. “Let’s head to the conference room,” Ari suggests, dismissing the rest of the team. Liv follows Johnny, arm and arm, speaking quietly to each other. I frown at that. Ari leaned down. “They are best friends. Him, her, Charles, Bucky and Steve. Don’t let your PR brain go to hard.”  

I sighed. “Ok.” I walk into the conference room and Liv is sitting next to Johnny. “Liv, what are you doing?” 

“Johnny asked me to be here,” she replied, narrowing her eyes at me. Wow, she’s got momma bear look down pat. I just nod and take a seat across.  Ari hangs out in the back leaning against the sideboard with his signature arms cross.  

Johnny looks at everyone and sighs. “Two years ago, a one-night stand told me she was pregnant. And then eight months later, my wife died, and I was left with my son.”  

NEXT

Taglist:

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@sunnyhummingbee

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@peaceinourtime82

@saucy-sassy-sparkly

@kmc1989

@kandis-mom

@lokislady82

@raven-blue3000

[xoxobuckybarnes]

March 2024 Stucky Fics

Completed

Now! That’s What I Call 90’s Slow Jams (Rated: M, Words: 10K) by deadonarrival

Summary: Steve goes home for the wedding of Becca Barnes and while he’s there he runs into his old crush. Her brother. Except now they are both hot as shit. Oh no whatever will happen.

(You Can't Choose) What Stays and What Fades Away (Rated: G, words: 3K) by Taste_is_Sweet

Summary: At some point in everyone's life, the first words their soulmate will ever say to them will appear in deep black writing on their skin. The words fade to light grey when a soulmate dies. Sometimes new words replace them, whether they're wanted or not (These were the words Steve was born with, running in a messy, uneven line across his skinny little chest, beneath both his collarbones: You okay, pal? Those jerks didn't hurt ya too bad, did they? Steve woke up from the ice in 2011 with the words, Who the hell is Bucky? circling his heart, in printing so precise it barely looked human. Steve hated them.)

For Words to Say it Right (Rated: T, Words: 25K) by Squeaky & Taste_is_Sweet

Summary: Turns out when you're missing an arm, everyone asks are you okay? all the damn time. And when your soulmark is one of the most common questions in English, it's even worse. Generic soulmarks are a bitch.

Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions) (Rated: M, Words: 111K) by dorian_burberrycanary / @burberrycanary

Summary: The worst of times, like the best, are always passing away. How’s that for some consolation on the road? A post-The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Stucky fix-it as part of the all-American road trip, detours included.

The Simple Life (Rated: E, Words: 114K) by howler32557038

Summary: "The simple life." "You'll get there one day." "I don't know. Family, stability...The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago. I think someone else came out." Bucky wants to be part of Steve's life. He wants to be an Avenger. He wants to be a good partner. Unfortunately, sometimes that means not telling Steve everything.

WIP

a league of our own (Rated: E, Current Words: 40K) by burning_brighter / @burnin-brighter

Summary: Steve's sixteen-year-old son's one and only dream is to play in the Major League. He thinks he has a shot when the team get a new coach, retired MLB legend and Steve's high school crush, Bucky Barnes. Steve hasn't thought of the man in many years, but seeing him brings back many memories that push Steve to reach out to an old friend and maybe make new ones on the way. What happens when Steve gets to know Bucky properly? What happens when they open up about their darkest secrets and deepest fears? There's really only one thing that can happen.

hey now, you're an all star (get your game on, go play) (Rated: E, Current Words: 81K) by buckyismybicycle / @buckyismybicycle

Summary: Boston Bruins trade notorious party animal/human disaster Bucky Barnes to the Dallas Stars, and captain Steve Rogers is not impressed when Fury puts him on babysitting duties. But, as he gets to know Bucky - really gets to know Bucky - he wonders if maybe the media has got it all wrong - very, very wrong. PS - you do not need to know hockey for this, I promise.

Every Me and Every You (Rated: E, Current Words: 60K) by deadto27 / @deadto27

Summary: Bucky Barnes is doing his best. He's getting by after the blip, after Sam became Captain America, after Steve...well, it's best he doesn't think about that. The point is, his life is different now, and he's trying his best. He just wishes the hollow feeling in his chest would go away. ----- Bucky gets blinded by a bright light as the tear seems to implode in on itself and there’s an odd little jolt as the pulling stops, and then Bucky’s blinking, trying to get his vision right again as he loosens his grip on America. “You okay?” he checks, still squinting. He’s probably not blind, he thinks. It just feels like it right now. “I’m okay,” America tells him and he sees her nod shakily as his vision starts to clear, and he carefully lets go of her, seeing that she can support herself, hands pressing onto the floor next to her. “Uh…I don’t think I am,” says another voice, and Bucky turns his head so fast he might give himself whiplash. Because he knows that voice. He knows that voice better than any other voice on the planet and he’s missed that voice

[helioshellion]

Another yakuza hc dump from the bucky brain.

Majima

He is one of the few to actually graduate instead of dropping out. He was pushed by Shimano to finish because a man ain’t worth shit if he doesn’t have the smarts to back it up.

Isn’t an animal person one bit. He doesn’t get along with dogs or cats. He likes wild animals like birds and squirrels and stuff like that though. If he had the time he could be one of those grandpas that throws seeds at pigeons. His way of endearment is to insult and curse at them like “hey shiteater have some seed”

Prefers younger kids over older kids he doesn’t get along with teenagers or older kids because they remind him too much of himself therefore he sort of self-hate projects onto kids. However he loves babies and a deep down part of him gets baby fever each time he gets close to one. He wants to hold a baby and kiss its head and lay it down to sleep. He doesn’t want to argue about homework with a “brat” (once again he is projecting)

His car is a shitty mid to late 90s truck covered in rust and scratches. It roars like a son of a bitch and is the perfect spot to have depressed sack of shit benders. There are stains in the seats and burn holes from cigarettes. There’s probably a sexy woman keychain dangling from the rear view mirror.

Teeth are very yellowed and spotted and dirty and he should keep an eye on his dental health but with the rate he smokes there’s not much he can do unless he commits to a steady routine of caring for his teeth. His gums bleed and he gets freaked out so he stops.

Ends up always getting pneumonia or bronchitis in the winter. Every time. He’s immunocompromised so he gets easily laid out by sicknesses.

Actually is interested in metalworks but pretends to think metal sculptures are stupid as shit but he’s got the brain of a middle aged grilldad so he loves watching metal get real hot and make cool object.

Starts using nicotine patches when he’s older. He never quits, but he’s able to cut pack to less than a pack a day.

When not shirtless his attire consists of spotted gross tank tops and jeans of the dad variety, Also ripped and spotted. He’s kept the same bunch of clothes since 1995 essentially. He is a man trapped in time.

Growing up in poverty, Majima tries to keep ahold of the stuff he cares about. His father was much much older and essentially was a generation behind. There’s two sides of Majimas brain where one encourages him to hold onto stuff and the other encourages him to let go and not grow sentimental to things. It causes a lot of migraines.

Back on cars. He actually loves driving. Driving is something he holds a lot of value in and he’s good at it. He encourages seatbelt usage and will hit anyone driving him if they don’t belt up first.

Personal headcanon that his modern relationship with Saejima is. Tumultuous. They care about each other deeply but Majima has never had to live with someone for a long long time and has a lot of habits he’s accrued due to that meaning there’s a certain incompatibility they never had when they were young considering the fact that Majima never lived with Saejima in the 80s. Majima deals with a certain nervousness having someone in such close proximity and Saejima has to essentially relearn how to move and interact around Majima. There’s a part of both of them that somehow just knows what the other has been through, especially in regards to Kugihara’s torture on Saejima and Majima in the hole. They never talk about it, but they feel it.

His leg bounces as a nervous tick, and his teeth grind extremely loudly when he sleeps. It’s uncomfortable for everyone to hear. He snores softly, but needs to be pushed onto his side because he chokes easily on his back on his spit and the coughing wakes him up.

Kiryu

The kind of addict that’s never really able to quit fully. He’s tried, god he’s tried. He’s tried a lot of different routes but it never works. He gets extremely hostile when he doesn’t smoke and he has at times taken it out on the kids in morning glory leading him to the decision to just. Smoke and not try to quit. He cant handle the pain and the possibilty of him yelling at the children again for something that’s not their faults. He smokes more than a pack a day, even in his peaceful times, because his brain never really relaxes. He’s never at peace, not really.

In opposition to Majima, Kiryu prefers older kids. He likes guiding them and helping them and doesn’t like dealing with diapers or hand feeding them or anything like that. He likes talking to them like people.

He eats the kid’s leftovers. (Father overload)

Since my Kiryu is trans, he has genuinely considered at times to carry a child to term. They weren’t that serious but he did consider it. However he went through early menopause in his 40s so it isn’t happening. Before menopause, His testosterone levels fluxuate due to him not keeping a good schedule so theres usually a time where he’ll just menstrate and be like. How could this have happened. And it’s because he didn’t do his injections bitch.

During his transition in the 70s-80s, because of there being no real dictionary for him to really explain how he felt, he ended up falling in with a lot of different crowds in Kamurocho. The city life really helped him reflect. He found a lot of comfort within the small butch lesbian community in the bar scene, and identified with them a lot. It was through the shared support and love that he was able to recognize what masculinity meant to him and how he wanted to be viewed by others. He also engaged with the gay scene as well but felt a strong disconnect due to being transgender, and being fed fearmongering by Kazama. Kazama attempted, but it was his own fears that led him to feed Kiryu harmful anxieties about how he’d be treated and seen by everyone, and told him the only way to survive if he wanted to be yakuza was to stay in the closet about both his gender and sexuality. Kiryu didn’t.

While Kiryu is extremely. Sexually active to put it best (fucks like a beast and gets pussy like a frat star), he is still mostly closed off. It’s through interacting with Majima that Kiryu attempts a level of intimacy he didn’t allow himself before.

The kids are his alarm clock due to not having an internal clock. If they don’t wake him up he can sleep all during the day and completely miss the kids coming home from school. It upsets him knowing that sometimes Haruka will intentionally let him sleep to get everyone ready herself, but he can’t verbalize how it makes him feel.

While he does have a very deep intimate relationship with Majima, most of his conversations on a deep level come from interacting with Date. Date is his closest friend, and is one of the few with a more level head. Date is a regular civilian, and so has civilian advice. It helps Kiryu a lot in his darker times. Sometimes he just needs a pat on the back and a shared beer and be told to keep his chin up, bucko.

Would probably be really good at riding mechanical bull.

He talks to the kids like adults and sometimes that works well sometimes it doesn’t, because sometimes it results in him not giving the proper amount of care and attention in something, because sometimes you need to talk to a kid like a kid. He wants to protect their innocence but he can’t really help himself. Thjs is what happens when adults don’t have adult friends. Sorry kiryu.

As he gets older he has freeze-ups. He will go still and his brain will just. Freeze. It lasts for a couple seconds and it scares him. Nothing scares him more than losing control.

He has a neverending sadness and the only thing that satiates that is blood. He wishes he wasn’t like that. He wishes he was somebody else. He wants to feel comforted by his head on someone’s lap, their hand in his hair, but he can’t help that he just. Is himself. He wants to hurt people and he wants to be hurt because that’s all life is to him. He wants to be held.

Kazumajiiuurrtghhhh

Sex to them is staring at each other from across a bar. Sex to them is tasting each other’s blood after a fight. For all the sex they have they sure aren’t having sex. It works out, though.

Nothing will stop the beast in Majimas heart telling him to settle down and have a family and hold his kids hand and kiss their foreheads and kiss his spouse on the cheek and go to work and- none of this can really exist in the real world, not with Majimas turmoil. He imagines it, though. For how separate their lives are, Kiryu certainly exists in the life Majima deeply wants. Maybe there’s a small jealousy, or some type of envy. Or maybe it’s sadness that Majima and Kiryu can never meet in the middle. It’s an either-or, despite Kiryu being constantly in the middle. Kiryu will always be a bit of a hypocrite.

Kiryu pretends to be asleep when he wakes up, because Majima is always awake first and Kiryu likes to pretend to sleep and just exist in Majima’s space without expecting anything. He’s embarrassed to admit he once groaned in his “sleep” to pretend to be having a bad dream and Majima came over and sat down next to him and put a hand on his head and Kiryu very very enjoyed it. He’s not going to admit that, though.

Majima could literally be the most stable thing in Kiryus life if Kiryu and Majima were able to meet in the middle and see if they can live together, either earlier or in the orphanage. Majima keeps a schedule, Majima is stable, works hard, keeps track of things when he can. Majima would cook dinner, Majima would clean Kiryu’s space without being asked. Majima would stir and stir in his newfound life and never be able to truly settle down like his brain wants. Eventually it would come crashing down, but it wouldn’t be. Destroyed. Everything changes. Deep sigh.

Anyways, Majima can pick and throw Kiryu around and it makes Kiryus brain go hooray and yippee. They kiss like nasty ass gross men because they rarely ever actually kiss. So the times they do it’s very noticeable and nobody likes it. That’s why they only kiss when they’re alone.

[waitingformysandman]

Remember Mr

Part 4

Summary: After years of being separated from your love, James (Bucky) Buchanan Barnes, you finally find him again. But he’s different. Too different. Not only does he forget himself but you and Steve as well. Can he get his memories back?

‼️Trigger Warnings will be noted if needed at the beginning of chapter.‼️

Masterlist

“Ya know what? Fine. Sit here and wallow in your pain and his bloodied tattered clothes and books of faded memories. It’s not going to help bring him back!”

And with those last stinging words Steve left. Making sure to slam the door behind him like the dramatic ass he is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You knew Steve made a point about the wallowing. It did no one any good and definitely didn’t help bring Bucky back.

You were convinced nothing would though.

Steve had been enough to break through last time. But if his trigger words and been removed and HYDRA was still able to use Bucky against his will…you don’t know what would get him back.

That’s where most of your pain was.

Having gone through the five stages of grief in two weeks while no one else in the compound had even processed anything.

You’d processed. Not healthily, but you had.

You made plans to get him back. They sounded stupid to you though so you scrapped them all. Maybe if you swallowed your pride Steve would help you form a better plan. To be honest anything was better than whatever crap you had come up with. You were too stubborn however to even start thinking about asking for his help though.

You had been sleeping in Bucky’s t-shirts. His room was kept just down the hall from yours when he stayed at the Avenger’s compound before he went to Wakanda.

Eventually you just started sleeping in his room. It was more convenient considering you spent 90 percent of your day in there anyway.

That’s about when Steve thought you were a lunatic and once again tried to intervene.

“This isn’t healthy. What you’re doing. Living in his room, sleeping in his shirts. He wouldn’t have wanted this for you.”

You rolled your eyes.

“He’s not dead Steve.”

Steve leveled you with a glare.

“Then stop acting like he is. Get your shit together and do something about it.”

Like last time he was there you knew he was right. Even when you wanted so badly for him to be wrong, he usually wasn’t.

You took a deep breath.

“I assume you’ve already started looking. When’s the mission?”

Steve looked surprised. He didn’t actually think you’d get up and do anything. But you would. For Bucky you would burn down the world and then build it back up if he asked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2 Weeks Later

“What do you mean he’s escaped Steve?!” You practically screamed in Steve’s face.

“I mean just that Y/N! He up and escaped in the middle of the night murdering one third of the Dora Milage when they tried to stop him!”

This was going to make your rescue mission a lot harder. You could handle a manic Bucky. A Bucky who didn’t know what was going on. Who was confused, and scared. But intentionally violent and one who chose to push you so vehemently away because he didn't want you around...that's very different.

You don’t think you’d be able to put him down if you needed. No, you know you wouldn't be able to. He was your everything. You'd rather die.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself from punching Steve in the face. You've been wanting to do that ever since Steve "allowed" you to help find Bucky and bring him back. He'd forgotten what exactly you were capable of while you were otherwise indisposed.

He had clearly forgotten who you and Bucky were to each other. Clearly had forgotten the half of his life before his new one.

You and Bucky would never be separated. Never truly. When he dies, you die. That was always what the two of you had said. You'd die old together. Have children. Buy a house. Argue incessantly but love each other deeply no matter what happens. You would always find your way back to him. Even if it took 80 years.

[stucky-fic-idea-bank]

K so I had this idea for a fic, and I would love to actually write it but it's so far out of my wheelhouse that I'd do one (or more) of the following: push off writing it forever, spend ages researching, write it but never end up being happy with how it comes out.

But I would love love love to read it if someone else writes it!

So my idea is a modern AU, and both Steve and Bucky are on tiktok.

Steve (stevegrrr) is Skinny!Steve and disabled; he mostly adapts recipes for different dietary needs (often by request) but also sometimes reviews disability aids or shows how different things (baking, but also household, community, hobby, etc. things) could be adapted. He's in New York, baking from his college apartment, and has a successful Patreon where he posts unedited videos, outtakes, and videos of his roommates (Morita, Gabe) guessing which versions of his bakes are the original or the modified recipes and rating them.

Bucky (callmebucky) is broody Post-Azzano!Bucky; he bakes recipes from the 1920s, 30s, and 40s. He's in Indiana, maybe isn't super happy there.

Steve's and Bucky's followers keep saying they should do a collab, and eventually Steve reaches out and invites Bucky to come to New York for that.

Bucky likes NY and Steve, moves to NY.

They don't do any more collabs but Bucky is there off-camera sometimes when Steve is filming, and vice versa. And their followers start noticing clues, like someone thinks they hear Steve talking or laughing in the background of Bucky's video, or Steve wears a sweatshirt he stole from Bucky and someone remembers that Bucky once wore it in a video X weeks ago. Then all their followers become detectives, e.g. "It can't be the same day as the collab because the calendar is turned to the next month." or "Can't be the same because Steve's bruise is a different color." (if Steve is physical fighty and not just words fighty on the internet)

Eventually, Bucky and Steve announce that they are dating (maybe with another baking collab that's too cheesy for Bucky's liking but he'd do anything for Steve and Steve wants to do it, so).

And yeah, that's it.

The biggest reasons why I don't think I could do it justice is because I'm not on tiktok or any other video-based social media platforms so know little about them, and also because I think it would be best told in part via video transcripts and comments on the videos, and [see reason 1].

Thoughts?

^^^^

holy shit this sounds so good. And you’ve already fleshed like 90% of it out!! Fingers crossed someone picks this up because it sounds like a banger of a fic

[ashecampos]

Web Head

Trans Spider y/n

no love interest. yet. comment who should be the love interest though. Just a new series, maybe one shot I’m trying out. I’m this universe reader is Spider-Man but unlike any other spider person they have this one little problem. He was assigned female at birth.

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“HEY PENIS PARKER” a familiar voice shouts in my ear as I rest my head on my cold locker. A heavy force pushes my back towards the locker, my body is pushed up so my feet aren’t touching the ground, his hands grip the collar of my shirt. “What did I say about you seeing my girl parker?” He scowls at me. Flash Thompson. The bully. I grimace as a clenched fist makes contact with my face, my body dropping to the floor. Students gather around like this is the most important part of their day. Which knowing the kids from Brooklyn, it probably is. I pick myself up, dirty converse placed on the floor as I put my hands up to fight. For the fourth time this week. Once again his fist makes contact with my face again, this time he draws blood, my cheek cuts open from his silver plated ring, fuck. My turn. I quickly jab him in the jaw, his face is comical as he shakes his head, spitting out blood onto the floor, he smirks and grabs me by the chin and throws my body to the ground, with force he kicks me in the ribs a couple of times before she runs over. His girlfriend. “Flash what are you doing? Break it up” she pulls his arm so he is a distance away from me. It all happens so fast but teachers are storming towards us, one grabs my arm while another ushers flash toward the principals office.

Shoved into a seat, Flash and the head teacher is sat in the room with me. “you two used to be best friends, now you both fight” the principal starts. “One more time and you are both expelled. Your parents.. sorry guardians will be informed about this” he then states sternly. Fuck my uncle Ben is going to kill me, I’m so dead.

“Now go hurry along you have to catch a bus for your classes day trip if I’m not wrong” he chuckles before adding “boys will be boys” at the end of his sentence.

-

I throw my body down onto a free pair of seats, closing my eyes and sighing. Finally. “Shove along short ass” another familiar voice says through the crowd. Thank god it’s Tess, my best friend of eight long years. She’s the yin to my yang. The Cap to my Bucky. And all of that cringe shit. I quickly sit up leaving her room on the left to me, she sits and looks over to me, she shakes her head. “you look like shit” she states with a laugh “you should see the other guy” i smirk “I did”

-

After a few minutes of conversation she instantly perks up. Turning to me with puppy dog eyes she grabs my attention “please join the rugby team y/n, you’ll love it” she asks for the millionth time. I hadn’t played rugby since my parents left when I was 10. Chuckling I cave for her begging “I’ll think about it okay?” I say with a hint of sarcasm.

-

Our conversation flows naturally as time goes on, before we know it we have arrived at the place. Octavius labs. “Apparently they signed a deal with Doctor Connors” I overhear someone say in awe as we step off of the bus.

-

Once inside the building we get assigned groups and of course tour guides. Ours was some old man with 90s style glasses and white hair, someone you could see as your grandpa who has the best stories ever. In who you know led an amazing life. Tess pulls my arm making me look up at her, I give her a questioning look as she pulls out my camera. Sneaky bitch. “Hey I picked this up, thought we could sneak off to the spider enclosure and grab some shots, you promised to do me a spider tattoo, this can be your concept design” she smirks again with pleading eyes. She’s never been the one to like the field trips, she’s chill and would rather go do her own thing, that being dragging me to do things with her. I nod as we sneak away from the poor old man.

-

I open the door for her like a true gentleman, she enters the room and looks around surprised. I walk up to the spiders in awe. I grab my camera and get to work. Just as I click the button to take one last photo. A selfie of me and Tess with the spiders. I feel a stabbing pain on my left rib. Fucking binder. I grimace a little, making Tess look over. One hand keeps a hold of my camera as the other shoots to my rib. “You need to get a new binder” Tess says with sympathy in her voice. “Cmon we should go, you still down to see my mom tomorrow? she misses you a lot” Tess informs me, that makes me laugh a little, the pain being less apparent thankfully, we head out of the labs, heading back to the bus.

-

Opening the door to my aunt and uncle’s apartment. Now sporting a headache and chest pain, I walk to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water. “Hey bud! How was the field trip?” My aunt may says with her signature smile. She wraps an arm around me giving me some weird half hug. “Mh?” I say groaning as my vision starts to go crappy. She kisses me on the forehead and smiles a little. “Go to bed y/n, you look like crap” she chuckles as I walk to my room and my body flops onto my bed.

-

A piercing sound hits my ears. Fuck my alarm, I cover my ears and slap my phone multiple times trying to shut it off after like 50 tries it finally stops. My eyes open and I feel like I’m blinded. What the fuck is happening to me? I cover my eyes and attempt to close my curtains, somehow I don’t trip over anything in my room and get the curtains first try. Weird.

-

The whole morning my sensory issues get a little bit easier to handle, I skate to school again and as soon as I enter I walk straight into Flash. Well I’m a dead man arent I? He is now sporting a black eye and a grazed cheek bone. He looks at me and swings for my face. I catch his punch which grabs everyone’s attention. He looks extra confused today, I sweep him off of his feet and he is now on the floor, being the respectful man I am, I walk away.

-

The whole day goes by questionably quick. One thing that is a bit confusing is that my hands are sticking to everything. It’s super annoying but I guess it was funny to see the look on Tess’s face when I held the ruby ball above her head without using the grip of my fingers, just my palm. That was a sight to see.

-

I skate home and get pushed off of my board by some tall dude. “What the fuck man?” I say using my deep manly voice. Or so I thought. “Fuck you tranny” he says as he comes closer to me. Well this isn’t good. I push him away and go to punch him but some weird white stuff comes out of my wrist, due to him already having his hand up, his right hand gets stuck to the wall with whatever that stuff was. I look behind me to see if it was someone else. Nope only us here. I look at my wrist confused. Did that stuff come out of me? what. the. fuck. I walk closer to the man, doing the same to his other hand before walking to get a closer view of the white stuff. It looks like string, I hold my hand out and shoot the stuff onto the bricks close to his head, I swipe a little off onto my finger to get a closer feel of it. Webs? Did I just shoot a spider web out of my wrist. I back away a little wait I’ve heard about this before. What was it. One of those stupid comics Tess likes. Uh spider woman. Yes that’s it.

-

While walking away I grab my phone and dial Tess’s number. On the second ring she picks up.

-

“Hey T, I need one of your comics” I say with urgency.

“Wait oh my god, have I converted you to the dark side??” She squeals into the speaker

“sure you have, do you still have that uh spider girl thing?” I say with a sigh knowing I’m never going to live this down

“I left it at yours because I knew you would want it someday, check under your old rugby uniform” she says, I just know she’s smiling trough the phone right now.

“Omg I love you so much, thankyouuu you stupid nerd” I say as o start to run back to my house, skate board in my hand.

-

I run into the house faster than usual and get to my room, once there I go straight to my old rugby shit, throwing my uniform to the side and grabbing the comic. I flip through it and it hits me. I got bit by a spider as the lab yesterday. Shitttt.

-

I lift up my hoodie and look at my ribs, remembering the stabbing pain I felt when I was with Tess when we snuck off yesterday. Two small red bite marks are placed on my skin. Great I’m going to die. Or turn into some mutant. I think death would be the better option here.

-

A few hours later and lots of reading the comic and analysing the facts of it, I decide I need to test my new ‘power’. I grab a flannel and go out, leaving a sticky note on the fridge which reads ‘went to Tess’s house xoxo’. I look around the streets trying to find a tall building, comic book in hand, I run up the stairs of a building and get to the top. “Just a leap of faith y/n..cmon just jump” I say to myself as I look down at the drop.

-

“nope no not happening” I say while running back down the stairs I go and find a smaller building and go on top of that instead.

-

One atop of the building I hold my hand out and try shoot a web. Nope that didn’t do anything. I hold the comic up and look at the hand gesture she done. Copying her action I throw my hand out doing the hand action and it works. Okay then that was easy. Now this.

-

I look down at the ground, I take a few steps back and run full speed to the edge and jump off. My body is on a downward spiral to the floor, I hold my hand out and a web shoots, attaching its self to a lamppost. Score.

-

I grab the web and aim my body toward the lamppost and it works I’m swinging across the streets in no time. This is so cool.

-

I end up taking advantage of this newfound advantage, I go to the shops and grab a bunch of snacks and hair dye, paying for them of course. I swing to Tess’s house, knocking on the door. Her mom answers it, i smile awkwardly. She lets me in and I walk into Tess’s room “hello sunshineee” I say as I drop myself onto her floor as she lays on the bed “hello goth boy” she chuckles as she looks down at me, I look up at her, holding up the bag. “I brought snacks and hair dye” she takes the bag and empties it out onto the bed, grabbing the hair dye first “do we have an exam tomorrow?” She questions, gaining a nod from me “hair dye timee” I say knowing she always dyes her hair before a test.

-

Next thing I know we are in her bathroom, she has half of her hair up in a bun and the rest I am applying pink to. Once I’ve done that, I wrap it in foil and she grabs the bleach box dye looking at my hair. “no please not again” I beg as I back away, she starts to open the dye, once the cap is off she shrugs “well it’s open now we must use it” she smirks as she puts a blob onto my hair “I hate you so much” I groan. My poor hair “love you too” she chuckles as she begins to abuse my hair.

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Heyy guys, this is part one of a new series I’m trying out. I hope you like it. Please comment who you think would suit our little y/n as their love interest.

Extra - have a photo of me and my bsf as spiderman, she’s the blonde one ofc, love you @bookaddict05