#flex your writing muscles challenge

[amythedvdhoarder]

Miscommunication

Pairing: Bucky x reader

For the Flex Your Muscles Writing Challenge set up by @captain-rogers-beard​

30th of June prompt: Blistering

Word count: 1000

Summary: Bucky has an accident and you come to his aid

Warnings: Minor injury detail but mostly fluffy fluffness!

Authors notes: GIF not mine. So sad that this is the last day of this amazing challenge, thanks to all of those who have read my entries. 30 days, 30 Bucky fics and a discovery that I love writing fluff. Think this one could lend itself to a sequel? Feel free to message me if there are any of these stories you would like a follow up for. I would be so up for it.  Please let me know what you think! X

Here is my masterlist if you want to read any of my other Bucky one-shots!

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You heard the shouting from your room and ran to the kitchen. Bucky was holding his flesh hand in his metal one muttering to himself. “Bucky, you alright?” You looked at the smashed cup and the brown liquid splattered down the front of his white-shirt. “Oh yeah just swell” His flesh hand was bright red. You pieced together what had happened. He had clearly smashed the cup in his metal hand as he picked it up, sending the scolding coffee over himself, his right hand taking the brunt of it. Walking over to him, you took hold of his wrist and pulled him into better light before taking his hand delicately in yours and inspecting the damage.

Thankfully he didn’t stop you but watched you intently with a sense of intrigue. You remained a bit of a mystery to him. Obviously as part of the team he had talked to you a bit, but he had never really spent much time with you. What time he had spent around you told him that you were funny, smart as a whip and attractive as hell, but didn’t seem to be aware of that fact yourself. Annoyingly whenever Bucky had seen you around the compound, you always had company, in the form of a dark-haired man, not much older than you, most likely a boyfriend.

“It’s blistering Bucky, we need to run it under cold water to stop the burn getting worse.” He was about to protest but you dragged him towards the sink, flicking the tap on and shoving his hand underneath the stream of cold water. He hissed at the sensation, the pain in his hand easing off slightly. However, what really distracted him was the fact that your hand was resting under his, keeping it still. He glanced to your face, your bottom lip held between your teeth, eyes filled with concern as you looked up to meet his. Suddenly very aware of where your hand was, you pulled it back. Something you couldn’t quite place flashed across the blue eyes before they looked away from you.

This was the most time you had spent with Bucky on your own. He made you nervous, not because you were scared of him. Quite the opposite of it really. You could see the softness within him. In the way he talked to Steve recounting memories from their childhood, the way that he always led the way during a mission, risking himself before others. It wasn’t difficult to like the super soldier. Bucky didn’t laugh very often but the sound he made when he did, filled you with happiness. You loved how his eyes creased at the corners when he smiles and how he would ruffle up his newly shortened hair do when he was nervous or anxious. Which was exactly what he was doing now.

“Bucky, it should be fine now. Do you want to come with me so I can dress it properly?” He turned off the tap and nodded at you before letting you lead him out the room. In the medical room you found some burn cream and a dressing and carefully set to work. Bucky remained silent as he watched you work, your fingers carefully applying the cream before beginning to wrap the dressing intricately around his hand. He had never been able to study you so carefully this closely before; the way you squinted slightly as you concentrated, how you would huff slightly when you would got frustrated or how your plump lips would curl up at one corner when you were satisfied.  All in all, Bucky couldn’t help but find you adorable.

“Y/N there you are, been looking for you everywhere.” Bucky rolled his eyes as the familiar brown-haired man walked into the room. He also didn’t miss how your face lit up as he entered, a feeling of jealously building within him. “Bucky, I don’t think you know Matt?” Bucky swallowed. “Hey man” You looked at Bucky who now looked a little pissed. “Matt is my older brother, he works with Hill.” That news seemed to have an impact on Bucky; his shoulders relaxed, a smile forming as he stood up and held out his metal hand to your brother. “Bucky” he introduced himself properly now. Now that Matt was no longer a threat.  Matt chatted with the two of you for a few minutes, asking about the injury and then announced that he was going to have to bail on you tonight in favour for a date. “Maybe I will get some time to myself if your date goes well” you teased. Matt flipped you off before sending you a quick wink, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky, before heading out of the door.

“Thanks Y/N. Um, it was kind of you to help me out” Bucky thrust his metal hand into his pocket and stared at the floor. “It’s not a problem. I am going to have to change the dressing every day and make sure it doesn’t get infected.” You walked to the door and looked back over your shoulder. “You coming?” Bucky walked a couple of paces behind you, watching as your hips moved gently side to side whilst you walked. Suddenly realising that you would probably think he was a little rude for not walking with you after patching him up, he took a couple of long strides until he was next to you.

“So, did you have plans with your brother tonight?” You shrugged and saw out of the corner of your eyes Bucky’s hand ruffle his hair, he was nervous again. “Just hanging out and watching a movie.” He took a deep breath. “I could hang out with you instead if you want?” You stopped and looked at him to make sure he was being serious or if he was trying to mess with you. “I mean, I get it if you don’t want to though Y/N” his hand went to his hair yet again. A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “No, I would love that Bucky.” Bucky couldn’t help but send his own grin back at you, before throwing his arm around your shoulder. “What we watching doll?” You laughed and let him steer you towards the lounge all traces of nerves completely gone as the ladies’ man you had heard so much about finally revealed himself.

Taglist is open so let me know if you want in

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 ,  @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht​, @buckys-henley​, @lonelyheartsm​ @alexa-lightwood-blog​

[trickstersteve]

The Last Goodbye

(Logan Howlett x Reader)

Written by: Mel @trickstersteve

Fandom: Marvel

Prompt: June 12th: (Sunglasses photo prompt), June 15th (A late night bike ride under the stars)

Words: 659

Warnings: Character death (reader), grief, angst, swearing

A/N: Written as part of the @captain-rogers-beard​ Flex Your Writing Muscles Challenge

(GIF not mine. Credit to the owner)

---

It was too sunny.

A sharp contrast to the storms waging within Logan as he sullenly made his way to where Scott and Jean waited on the grass. How he’d dreaded this day all week. He’d debated not coming but, in the end, it wouldn’t have been fair to you to not show up. He knew he had to be there.

Scott spotted him first. “Logan,” he greeted. “Didn’t think you’d make it.”

“I’m here aren’t I,” he snapped.

He sighed as he raised his hands in a silent apology. Scott gave a curt nod as he readjusted his mirrored sunglasses and Logan caught a glimpse of his reflection in the red lenses. He looked haggard with his unkept hair and dark circles under his eyes.

“Is everyone here?” he asked as he smoothed his hands over his shirt.

Jean shook her head. “Not yet. Still waiting on a few people.” She turned her head towards the nearing procession. “The Professor is riding with Y/N. They should be here soon.”

Logan nodded. “Great.”

They stood together for a time as others joined the growing party. Greetings and polite conversation eventually became too much and Logan attempted to break away from the small group.

“Logan.” Jean gently grasped his arm, her eyes boring into his. He swallowed.

“Not now Red.” He removed her hand and backed away. “Just need some air.”

He turned and walked away, feeling her gaze on his receding back. He found a more secluded area and leaned against an old tree, the leaves providing much needed shade and privacy. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the many photos of the two of you together, a sad smile spreading on his face at the memories. Before he could stop himself, his finger was poised over your number.

“What the hell,” he breathed and pressed dial. He fidgeted as it rang.

“Hey, this is Y/N. I can’t come to the phone right now so leave a message!”

He cleared his throat. “Hey it’s me,” he said into the phone. “Honestly, I have no idea why I called. Guess I just needed to hear your voice.” He looked up at the cars lining up at the curb. “Hey, you remember that trip upstate we took - what was it? Last year? When we ended up driving for hours at night just to find at place to crash that wasn’t completely booked?” He gave a small chuckle. “We hadn’t planned that one through huh.” His smile faltered. “What I wouldn’t give for another late night bike ride under the stars with you right now. But I fucked up Y/N. I know that. I should have -” His grip tightened on the phone. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” he choked into the phone. “I should have been on that mission. Not you. Maybe things would have ended different. Maybe then -”

He let the words hang in the air as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Movement to his left caught his eye and he turned his head to see Scott nearby. He jerked his head towards a long black car turning the corner.

Logan nodded and raised a hand to indicate he’d be there soon. Scott stayed a small distance away, his hands folded in front of him and waited. Logan turned his attention back to the phone.

“Scott says hi.” Logan looked down at his feet. “Look I got to go but wanted to say that we - that I miss you.” He closed his eyes and swallowed back a sob. “I love you Y/N. Needed you to know that.”

He hung up and stood there quietly, tears welling up in his eyes as he watched your hearse arrive at the curb.

Scott gently put his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “You ready?”

Logan put the phone back in his pocket and nodded as he ran a hand over his face.

It was time to say goodbye.

[hawksmagnolia]

Chaotic Good (and a little bit of glitter)

Flex your muscles challenge 

Author: Allie @hawksmagnolia​

Summary: Clint gets benched and he and Darcy get revenge.

Flex your writing muscles challenge 

Prompt used: 24 June - enthusiastic chaos

Characters: Clint Barton, Darcy Lewis, Bucky Barnes

Fandom: Marvel

Words: 702

Warnings: Glitter. Clint/Darcy friendship, which should come with a warning label.

Author’s Notes: Day three of migraine meds means I’m more than a little loopy. This is just ridiculous nonsense. Hope you enjoy! -xo- Allie

“Crackhead energy.”

“What?”

“You are the living embodiment of crackhead energy.”

Clint narrowed his eyes and frowned. “I prefer the term ‘purveyor of enthusiastic chaos’. It sounds all smart and sophisticated.”

Darcy rolled her eyes and went back to her book while Clint continued to bounce on the balls of his feet in socks that were decorated in little smiling sushi rolls.

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. 

“I am going to have Bucky murder you if you don’t stop. Why aren’t you off saving the day anyways? Did Natasha hide your bow and put you in archer timeout?”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. No, they didn’t need my skill set this time. Bucky and Sam are filling in my position.”

“I see. It takes two of them to equal you?”

“One bird and one sniper. I’m an all in one package.” 

“Or is it because you pissed off Fury by scaling the rock wall with Cap’s shield because you wanted to see if you could hit Bucky with it?”

Clint lifted her feet and slumped to the couch, dropping her feet into his lap. He looked so rumpled and adorable in his purple plaid pj pants and faded grey t-shirt. “I still don’t see why I got yelled at, Barnes and Wilson were there too. Barnes made it seem like it was all my idea.”

Darcy set her book to the side. “Well…we can always get him back…”

Clint’s eyes focused on her face. “Tell me more.”

“We’re going to have to make a field trip for supplies.” 

=======

Six hours later, a very tired and grumpy Bucky Barnes made his way into his apartment. Darcy hadn’t met him on the landing pad which was weird but it was also late so he reasoned she was probably passed out on her couch. Probably with Barton. He clenched his jaw a little as he entered the living area and he stopped. 

Someone had been here.

He dropped his bag, his eyes scanning the room. Nothing seemed out of place but he thought he could smell some of Darcy’s body spray.

“Doll? You in here?” He slowly made his way towards his bedroom. “Darce?”

He spied a person shaped lump in his bed and figuring it was his girl, he flipped the light to surprise her.

Instead, there was a bunched up pile of pillows made up in a Darcy shaped lump topped with a brown wig. 

“What the hell?” Hearing a whirring sound, he turned to the bathroom door where a nerf gun was set up on a tripod. There was a click and the barrel of darts unloaded on him. 

And then the glitter started to fly.

Each dart had been tipped with and then packed with bright purple glitter.

He huffed, sending sparkles flying into the air. 

“BARTON!” 

“Oh shit!” He heard giggles and a thump from his living room as both the archer and Darcy made a mad dash for the door.

Steve was limping towards his own apartment as Darcy and Clint came crashing out into the hall from Bucky’s place. Both of them looked guilty as hell and when they saw Steve they both turned and sprinted for the stairs.

Seconds later, Bucky banged out and stopped dead in his tracks. Steve’s mouth fell open as he took in the sight of his best friend.

“Is..is that glitter?” Steve snapped his mouth shut and was struggling to keep a straight face.

“Fuck yes. Darcy and Barton got me with one of his remote controlled nerf guns.”

Steve just pointed towards the stairs and Bucky took off after them.

He was still in the hallway, laughing so hard that tears were streaming down his cheeks when Natasha found him.

She surveyed his state and the trail of shiny purple flakes that lead from Bucky’s door to the stairway.

“Clint and Darcy?”

Steve just nodded as he tried to compose himself.

“I’d be careful going into your room. Sam got hit with red glitter. Last I saw, he and Bucky were still trying to catch them.”

“Did you..?”

“They know better. I’m scary.” 

“I need to work on being more scary.”

“Come on Cap. Let’s go see if they spangled your room too.”

@captain-rogers-beard​

@nano--raptor @cchellacat @eurynome827 @jobean12-blog @book-dragon-13 @aesthetical-bucky @marvelgirl7 @sallycanwait68 @buckys-broody-muffin @softpeachbarnes @godofplumsandthunder @azurika-writes @ikaris-whore @this-kitten-is-smitten @randomfandompenguin @bugsbucky​ @littleredstarfish​ @daughterofsteven​

[need-a-fugue]

Color of Blood

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Sam Wilson x Reader

Pairings: none (Bucky x Reader if you squint)

Summary: A mission gone wrong has Sam about to lose his damn mind.

Author’s note: For the Flex Your Muscles Writing Challenge from @captain-rogers-beard​ for 6/22. Flash fiction prompt – The color of her blood was the least of my worries.

Warnings: Well… blood, obviously. Otherwise, just some language.

Word count: 1,800

Sam cringes the moment he hears the car pull up. Not good, he thinks on repeat, those two little words beating against his skull as he scurries from the porch. Frantic accelerating, precarious shifting, skidding dramatically to a screeching halt in the long and dark front drive – fuuuuck that was gonna wreak havoc on the brakes – and the look of frazzled fury on Bucky’s face when he throws open the driver’s side door, almost tripping over his own two feet as he dashes to the other side of the vehicle. All of it is so… not good.

Just as Sam pulls up behind him, Bucky tugs open the passenger’s side door, nearly jerking it off its hinges… and doing so without any warning. You slip to the side, no longer anchored by the soothing press of the cool glass window on your forehead, and you drop heavily into his waiting hands with a surprised yelp and a disgruntled, pain-filled grunt.

“What the hell happened?!” Sam barks out as he takes in your slumped posture, tight grimace, and barely fluttering eyes. He reaches for your arm, helping Bucky to settle you on unsteady feet. That’s when his eyes blow wide, gaze shooting just past you, over your shoulder, and into the interior of the previously pristine Ferrari. “What?!” he screams, jumping back and slamming the heels of his hands to his head in wild vexation.

Bucky lets out a low growl as he grabs you around the waist and hikes you up back up, your legs having buckled the moment Sam let go. “I told her not to do anything stupid,” he mutters, his voice a mere whisper compared to the agitated ramblings of the irate man to his left. “She didn’t listen.”

Sam paces in a wide, arcing line, backtracks into swift, spinning circles as though his feet are incapable of coordinating with one another while he’s in such a frenzied state. His eyes ping wildly over the otherwise empty grounds of the safe house. Miles from the city, miles from anything, he knows that the chances of anyone being close enough to see this – to hear this – are practically nil. But still, he can’t help but chide himself for shouting. Captain America losing his cool on just his second mission in command.

He pulls in a deep, steeling breath – lets it out in what almost sounds like fitful wheeze – and leans forward again, peering into the car. It’s worse than he thought at first glance, and he can’t quite contain the small whimper that leaks from his lips. “Man,” he whines, dragging the word out endlessly as he pulls back and takes two large steps away, distancing himself from the car. “What did you do?”

You try to straighten yourself in Bucky’s grasp so you can – professionally, respectfully – issue out a preliminary mission report for your commander. Never mind the fact that your legs don’t seem to work right now and your shaky hands can do little more than desperately cling to Bucky’s perfectly fitted suit jacket as he struggles to hold you upright. Never mind that when you look over at Sam, you see… several Sams, all foggy and wispy and overlapping each other, oddly blurring in with the dark tree line behind.

You open your mouth to speak, a bit of blood dribbling out over your bottom lip, trailing down your chin as the thick taste of copper only now registers in your mind. A swift left hook to the jaw… oh yeah, you remember now. Yeah… that sucked.

You twist and spit a giant glob into the grass, a nearly indiscernible, crackling sound pulling from somewhere in your chest before you clear your throat and mumble, voice thick and raw, “Got the files.”

“Yeah,” Bucky scoffs, pinning you to his chest with his right hand as he tugs down the back of the seat to reach behind, gathering his rifle with his left. “And then you got stabbed. Great work.” There are blood stains littering the back too, you can see them plain as day with the dome light clicked on, even through your hazy state, and you find yourself cocking your head curiously, wondering just how exactly that could’ve happened.

“Why?” Sam bemoans, hands scrubbing a frustrated path down his face. “How?” he laments, shifting around and hesitantly peeking again into the car. “Its… that’s…” His hands suddenly flail wildly in front of him. “This is a damn rental!”

Bucky loops his rifle over his shoulder and shrugs, once again wrapping both arms around your body, a welcome thing as you continue to idly slide down towards the ground into a heap of bones and broken flesh. “You get the insurance?”

“Insurance?! Man…” He pinches his lips tightly together, hands clamping around his hips as he paces in another quick circle before coming to a halt directly in front of you. “This is a Ferrari,” he enunciates, a little too patronizingly. You roll your eyes… or at least, you think you do… your body doesn’t quite seem to be reacting like normal right now. “That’s an Italian leather interior,” he goes on, voice low and shaky, almost teetering on the edge of hysteria. “White Italian leather.”

Bucky’s brows furrow. “Thought it was tan. Looks more tan to me.”

You cock your head and narrow your eyes, lurch to the side to get a better look – much to the annoyance of the hulking man trying to keep you upright. More thick red spittle dribbles down your chin as you declare simply, “Off-white.”

Even in the pitch dark night, no more than the porchlight ahead and the dome light from the car illuminating his face – even in your steadily deteriorating state, with the world around you fading and flickering at the edges – you’re pretty sure you can see that vein near Sam’s temple pulsate. He’s about to stroke out, you think vaguely, wondering if you might be just about ready to do the same.

“I don’t care what damn shade it is,” he spits out deliberately. “Bright red blood is gonna be pretty damn obvious when I take it back in!”

Bucky’s arms tighten around your middle, giving a firm jerk upwards as you continue to slip. “It’ll dry more brown than red,” he says plainly. You choke on a laugh, fingers pinching and gripping maniacally at his shoulder as he offers another blithe shrug. You don’t see the look that Sam gives him, but you’re certain it’s a glare of pure daggers, one of his rare – though ultimately effective – do not fuck with me stares. “I’m sorry,” Bucky barks out impatiently. “Next time I’ll put down a towel.”

“Bright red blood…” he breathes out distractedly. “All over a perfect off-white interior…” as though the whole thing is just too much to fathom.

Bucky tugs you closer, vibranium hand sweeping under your ass and gripping your left hip in an attempt to better hold you in place. “The color of her blood was the least of my worries. Shit, Sam,” he grunts out, rifle slipping from his shoulder as your legs finally give and all of your weight falls into him. “You wanna keep staring at the damn car, or you wanna help me plug up her holes?”

“Gross,” you mumble into him, clinging to his jacket with everything you’ve got.

Sam raises a brow and shakes his head, continues to stare at the Ferrari. “We do not have the funds to cover this.”

“Sam,” he growls out, low and warning.

“Even with the seed money from the Stark estate… I mean, this safe house alone was…”

“Sam…”

He spins to face the both of you, deep brown eyes narrowing almost suspiciously at Bucky. “You gotta know what gets blood stains outta leather. Of everybody… you gotta know.”

You huff out a breath, choking a bit as you do so, head lulling to the side. “I think I’m dying,” sputters coolly from your lips amid more red-tinged saliva.

“You’re not dying,” Bucky gripes, an impatient note to his voice. He seems to give up on holding you upright – not like your legs are doing anything to help him out – and he opts instead for easily tossing you over his shoulder, the fingers of his right hand looping through your tac belt to secure you to him.

“Really,” Sam concurs, craning his head around Bucky’s thick frame to look at you with a raised brow. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

Bucky stiffens beneath you. “You’re calling her dramatic? You’re losing your shit over a few stains in a car.”

“A few stains?!” he exclaims. And even you gotta agree… it looks like an utter horror show in there. “She’s gonna be fine,” he states with a scoff, stepping around to Bucky’s front and out of your line of sight. “I’m gonna be out at least a hundred thousand dollars. Do I look like I can afford a hundred grand? Do I look like some kind of genius billionaire inventor or… or… some kind of first-rate drug kingpin with bricks of cash stashed away in a boat somewhere?”

He shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”

You tap listlessly at Bucky’s back as you dangle over his shoulder, let your hand fall to knock your knuckles into the swell of his ass when he offers no response. “Dying…” you remind him weakly, what’s left of your blood rushing to your head. “Help?”

You can almost hear him roll his eyes as he tells you again, “You’re not dying.” He looks back at Sam and sighs. “It’s like she’s never been stabbed before.”

“Just…” he says finally, waving an absent hand through the air. “Just go take care of her. I’ll… I don’t know what I’ll do.” He shrugs defeatedly, runs his fingers gingerly over the roof of the car. “Might have to torch her.”

“Peroxide,” Bucky says with another impatient sigh. “Get in there now before it all dries and it’ll be easier. Cold water only, little bit of soap. But go light, too much moisture’ll ruin the leather.”

“Cows hate rain,” you mumble with an airy laugh, your nearly unconscious brain delighting in the quip.

Bucky shifts and positions you higher on his shoulder, the movement eliciting a pained whimper as what you now recall is a stab wound stretches further open beneath your tac suit. “If any stains are still there in the morning,” he tells Sam, ignoring your discomfort completely, “run out and get some saddle soap.”

You swing your hands listlessly, open palms repeatedly smacking at the tops of his legs, his cheeks. Only a hint of pain remains now, a delightful – oddly, not at all frightening – lightheaded giddiness washing over you. “Plug me up, Sarge!” you slur as you blink thickly and wait to slip into oblivion.

“Saddle soap?” Sam asks, a sincere interest perking his tone.

“Saddle soap,” Bucky confirms, reaching up with his vibranium hand and giving you a sharp slap on your own ass before turning to leave, carrying you – finally – towards the house.

[shadowsof-thenight]

Brave

Summary: When Sophia accidentally confesses her feelings, she fights her instinct to run. 

Ship: Bucky Barnes X OFC-Sophia Warnings: Angst and fluff Words: 1440

*** A/N: As I struggle to find the right words for my series, I saw this prompt (curtesy of @captain-rogers-beard​) and this story immediately formed in my head. So I just went with it and I hope you like it.  Prompt Used: She liked to fit people into the world like puzzle pieces

Also there was very little editing done and no beta, so all mistakes are my own.

***

Masterlist      

Clear skies greeted Sophia as she opened her eyes. Blinking rapidly she tried to adjust to the glare of the sun, as it shone down upon her skin. Skin that was flushed in the heat that the light produced. It took her a moment to realise that the sun was now at its highest point in the sky, which meant that she had fallen asleep. She groaned, turning to her side and pushing her face into the soft blanket beneath her. She really hadn’t meant to be here for as long as she had, hadn’t  intended to doze off. Sitting up, she pulled up her knees and leaned her forehead on them, aware that she should get out of the sun and into the shade—at least if she wanted to keep the sunburn to a minimum. Still, she made no move to get up, not immediately. Too tired still from the few hours of sleep she had gotten. 



When she had come to watch the sunrise that morning, Sophia had only meant to take a moment to clear her mind. The night had been long and confusing, she’d needed time to herself—to gather her thoughts. 
 Finally pushing up off the ground, she gathered the blanket and carefully stepped over the large rocks that separated the small stretch of sandy beach from the tree line. The shade that the trees provided did nothing against the heat that hung in the stifling air, but that didn’t matter much. She’d be back at the cabin soon, where the heat would be driven off by the airconditioning.

Before she reached the cabin, she was greeted by the sound of her name being called and she smiled at the recognition of the gravely, slightly hoarse, sound. He must have been calling out for her for a while now and guilt quickly settled in her stomach. A heavy feeling that she was all too familiar with, as it lay heavily on her conscious, though she had not felt it with him before. Forgoing the open backdoor, she walked around the small cabin, in search of the gorgeous owner of that voice.



Bucky’s broad and muscular back greeted her first and she cleared her throat to alert him to her presence. He jumped slightly at the sound, causing a chuckle to escape from her mouth as he turned around to face her. His blue eyes were full of worry as he quickly looked over her appearance and her heart softened at the sight. When he was satisfied that she was okay, he sighed, relief washing over his features. The guilt she felt intensified as she realised that her absence must have really scared him, especially in this strange land. She easily could’ve gotten lost if she had picked any other destination than the beach she had gone too. The thick forest that surrounded the cabin would’ve given her little direction in the dark. Instead, Sophia had chosen the short path to the secluded beach only minutes from their cabin. One she had discovered the morning before, when Bucky had been arranging a vehicle for them to use on the island. She had planned to take him there today, as a surprise.

He stepped closer to Sophia, taking her hands in his and kissing the tips of her fingers—his touch lingering as he closed his eyes with another relieved sigh, grateful to have her close. She truly regretted her hasty departure now. It had been selfish to leave without a word—not even a note left to explain her absence. To be fair, she had not intended to stay away quite as long as she had.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” Sophia whispered, allowing him to wrap her in his strong arms. “I only wanted to see the sunrise,” she added and she could feel a smile playing on his lips as he pressed them to her shoulder. 

“Sunrise was quite a while back,” Bucky chuckled, his face still buried in her neck and she felt relief wash over her at his acceptance of her words—gripping his tightly in response to the feeling. Even though she felt slightly fraudulent for keeping her reasons from him.

The truth was that she had needed a moment away from him. Some time to gather her muddled thoughts, to make sense of it all. To make sense of the fact that the man in whose embrace she was now finding her calm, was never supposed to be as important to her as he had clearly become. And that scared her more than she cared to admit. And that fear had been the cause of her quiet departure in the early morning hours.

Because last night, in the midst of their most heated moments, she had suddenly realised how much he mattered. Not only that, but as he had helped her reach new highs, she had spoke the words that scared her for most of her life. She had confessed her love to him as she came down and he had replied in kind, kissing her deeply afterwards, a bright smile playing on his lips.

If Sophia was honest with herself, she would’ve known—and accepted—that he had loved her long before he had spoken the words. Long before she had realised her love for him as well. But she hadn’t been honest, couldn’t be honest with herself. She rarely could, especially when none of it made sense. 
Her entire life, Sophia had worked hard to keep complete control over every aspect. It had worked well for her. It had done exactly what she had expected, it had protected her from uncertainty and heartbreak, which was all she had wanted. She managed her expectations, and those of others, never promising more than she could reasonably give. Nor expecting anything in return. A safe life. Albeit a rather empty one as well.

Despite all of that, Bucky had sought her out. After meeting her in the tower, he had set his sights on her and seduced her. And with his promise to never ask her for more than she could give, she had given in. True to his word, he hadn’t asked for much of anything. He had been patient with her, and gentle, infinitely grateful for all that she had given him—the stolen moments, the laughter, the happiness that was never defined. His readiness to accept her as she was, confused her greatly.

She liked to fit people into the world like puzzle pieces, giving everyone a clearly outlined place in the controlled environment that she created—but he never really fit, she couldn’t make him fit. His behaviour too strange to her, too unpredictable. Yet, she also couldn’t stay away from him. He confused her, seduced her with a simple look and he made her want to relinquish the control she coveted.

In his arms she felt a safety that was new and frightening, it was uncharted territory. And last night, after her unintended confession of love, it suddenly suffocated her. She was drowning in her overwhelming feelings and she had needed air. She had needed solitude. Which was why, as he slept, she had snuck out to watch the sunrise. In hopes that it would calm her down sufficiently. Or at least enough to keep her grounded and to keep her from running. Because, for the first time in her life—though it terrified her—she did not want to run. Not just because Bucky had been through enough without her train wreck of emotions putting on more. Also because he made her feel far more brave than she really was.

“Freaked a little after last night?” Bucky whispered, pulling back and staring deep into her eyes. She took a deep breath and smiled, he knew her so well. She didn’t deny his claim, he’d see right through that anyway.

Which was another realisation that she could accept in one of two ways; either see it as comforting, or as even more frightening. It wasn’t clear to her which she would chose in the end, but it did not matter now. What did matter was that they were here, together. And she wanted to try and quiet her mind, and enjoy it for a little while longer. She would have plenty of time to dissect all the words and feelings later. For now, she just wanted to show him her love and feel his love in return.

“I’m better now,” she promised and Bucky smiled, before leaning down and kissing her lips with a gentleness that only he could show her.

[valravnwrites]

Saturn

Title: Saturn

Author: Mina @valravnwrites​

Summary: A missing part leads to the unimaginable.

Prompt/s Used: Photo / Word / Flash Fiction / Other

Characters: Reader. Peter Quill.

Word Count: 847

Warnings: N/A

Author’s Notes: Written for @captain-rogers-beard​’s Flex Your Writing Muscles Challenge. June 4th Edition. / I am not an astrologer, please don’t come for me if I got any of this wrong.

“What is this?” you scoffed, tossing the segment of old parchment onto the table in front of your partner. “A map to nowhere?”

“No,” he said, snatching it up and stuffing it back into the inner pocket of his worn red leather jacket. “It’s part of a map.”

“Oh great!” you rolled your eyes and threw your arms up as you fell into the seat opposite him. “Even more useless than I initially thought. Well done Quill.”

“Not useless. You’ll see. It’s just not the right time.”

Over the next few weeks, you found Quill pouring over astronomy maps, furiously taking notes and referring constantly to the map in his possession. 

No matter how many times you asked him what he was doing, he would always wave you off, saying that his calculations weren’t right, and something was missing.

“Yeah, most of the map.” you would grumble to yourself each time, shuffling away to continue with your own research.

Until one day he came to you exasperated, exhausted and desperate.

“Y/N. I need your help.” he admitted in defeat. “You’re the best astronomer I know, can you have a look at my charts and tell me what I’m missing?”

Without hesitation you stood, following him to his desk and surveying the mound of research papers, notes and maps. As you scanned them, your brow furrowed, hands making swift work of the papers beneath them. 

“This is wrong.” you mumbled to yourself, pushing aside papers. “This is all wrong.”

“Wrong? What do you mean wrong? I’ve spent weeks on this!” Quill’s dejected voice behind you made you turn to face him.

“Not your work, these maps. They’re all wrong. Look.” you encouraged him over, shoving all the papers off the desk and pointing to the map. “This.. this is incomplete.”

“No it isn’t. This map charts the movement of Mars and Jupiter and they will be visible from Earth soon. My calculations keep coming up different and I don’t know why.” he sighed, palms resting flat on the old mahogany.

“Because you’re missing a variable.” you gestured. “You’re right, they will be visible from Earth, but so will Saturn, and to a lesser extent,so will Mercury. Perhaps your calculations are off because of that?” 

Quill’s head shot up, eye wide as he scrambled for his papers, haphazardly tossing them aside until he got to the one he needed. After a few minutes of scrambled scrawling, he took a moment to study the work before throwing the page down.

“Ha!” he exclaimed triumphantly “That worked! It all makes sense now! I could kiss you, Y/N!” arms open, he stepped closer.

“Please refrain.” you said gently, hands up defensively. “Although, I will take a victory hug.”

A few weeks later the two of you sat in the desert, no artificial lighting, just the night sky to see, waiting with baited breath for the moment Mars passed between Jupiter and Saturn, equal distance from both.

When it did, the map Peter clutched in his fingers began to glow softly. It was beautiful, as if all the colours of the cosmos had converged on this one piece of parchment.

Mesmerised by the colours, you both almost missed the way it seemed to form an arrow, almost as if it was directing you.

With a shared look you followed it, parchment glowing brighter the longer you followed it, until eventually, the whole thing glowed so bright you couldn't bear to stare at it directly anymore. Handing you the map, Peter started to dig fervently, in hopes of finding whatever it was he had been looking for.

The map, however, had plans of its own, slipping from your fingers and whizzing around the two of you before shooting directly into the sky, leaving both of you staring after it in awe.

A few moments later something came hurtling down the same path it took up, and you barely had time to pull Quill out of the way before it struck the ground, a wave of dust emanating from every direction. 

Edging closer, you wafted the airborne particles out of the way, eyes coming to rest on the most beautiful chest you had ever seen. Where there should have been wood, you saw only the night sky reflected, shimmering with stars, and where there should have been banding, there shone the brightest of elements, like none you had ever seen. 

“I think we’re going to have to find a locksmith..” you whispered.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” as you turned to face him, his once brown eyes had started to shine like the galaxies you had always dreamed of seeing. “”No locksmith could open this chest, it will only open for the oldest bloodline in all the galaxies. My fathers bloodline.. My bloodline.”

He reached out to the chest, and the moment he made contact with it, it opened, almost pneumatically, air coming out each edge with a soft hiss.

As the lid raised, you couldn't help but to peak inside, stunned by the beauty of what it held.

"This is my legacy." 

[amythedvdhoarder]

Teasing

Pairing: Bucky x reader

For the Flex Your Muscles Writing Challenge set up by @captain-rogers-beard​

29th of June prompt: Basking in the sun

Word count: 980

Summary: Steve ruins your plans, so you make some new ones.

Warnings: Pure fluff and slightly mature themes

Authors notes: GIF not mine. This is a cheeky one which was incredibly fun to write. May have also teased you lot with the ending as well, oops. Also, I passed the 200 follower marker today so thank you so much to everyone reading my fanfics. This is for you! Please let me know what you think! X

Here is my masterlist if you want to read any of my other Bucky one-shots!

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“Urgh why? Why today of all days?” Steve had his hands resting on his hips trying to keep the amusement of his face. This didn’t go unnoticed so you shot him a scowl before turning your attention to your boyfriend in the corner. “You can wipe that smirk of your face or there will be consequences” His quirked his eye brow in response and his grin widened. “Doll you make that sound like it’s a bad thing.” Steve sighed at the comment and your smacked your hand to your forehead in exasperation. “Get your mind out the gutter, you’re the horniest centenarian I know. Even Steve can keep it in is pants.” Steve’s cheeks flushed pink. “I’m gonna go, see you both down stairs in 15minutes.” He stalked out the room mortified.

“Hey, I’m only horny for you.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Bucky stood up and walked towards you. “I don’t think so” you scoffed stopping Bucky in his tracks. “We have a surprise full day training session now. I need to get changed.” Bucky couldn’t supress a devious smile. “I could always help you with that doll?” You snorted “fat chance” before grabbing your training clothes from the draw by the bed and locking the door to the ensuite behind you.

Walking out of the bathroom, you pulled your hair up into a high pony. Bucky had also got changed into a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt, a look that drove you crazy, all you wanted to do was rip the clothes off him. He didn’t need to know that now though, it was pay back time. You cleared your throat and he turned to face you and gulped as he took you in. A pair of running shorts, a white drop arm vest top over your black sports bra an outfit that on the whole left little to the imagination and boy did you know it. Grabbing your trainers, you bent down in front of Bucky, putting on a show as you wiggled your arse teasingly as you did up your laces. A low growl escaped his throat as you stood up, glancing over your shoulder you shot him an innocent look. “Doll” Bucky’s voice was a tone lower than normal, evidence of his growing desire. “Told you there’d be consequences” you said lightly before exiting the room and heading down to the gym leaving Bucky to trail behind you, watching as your hips swayed side to side.

Steve was waiting for the pair of you to start. “Um you two alright?” Bucky nodded tightly trying to hold on to his composure. The only thing he wanted to be doing right now was taking you back upstairs and letting you know exactly who was in charge. You simply just glared at Steve and walked over to stand next to Nat who was wearing an amused expression. Steve outlined the exercises and you all positioned yourselves accordingly. Himself and Bucky were sparring on the mat next to where you Nat were practicing some hand to hand combat. “Why you so pissed off at having to train all day?” Your fist connected with Nat’s shoulder and she quickly returned the favour with a sharp kick to the stomach. “Because the weather is amazing today, I wanted to spend the day basking in the sun.” You licked your lips before increasing the volume of your voice. “I even bought a new teeny tiny bikini for the occasion.” Bucky’s eyes momentarily locked onto yours, his mouth hung open slightly at the thought of you covered in so little. You winked at him before turning your attention back to Nat, his eyes still focussed on you. A loud thud followed by a groan made the pair of you stop to look over to where Bucky was laid flat out on the floor, Steve stood over him triumphantly. “Jeez Barnes you really ought to focus more.” Nat’s comment made you chuckle. Bucky just glowered at the Russian before allowing Steve to help him back to his feet.

As the day wore on you continued to do everything in your power to keep up the assault on your boyfriend. Stretching in front of him, giving him a good look down your top. Moaning and grunting lightly as you hit the punch bag. Giggling and clinging onto Sam as he told a joke. At one point you even pulled off your vest top in front of Peter, who turned bright red when Bucky caught him staring at you. All in all, the training hadn’t been that bad. You had definitely achieved your goal of winding Bucky up; on several occasions you had caught him having to subtly adjust the front of his shorts. His eyes were dark with desire and you noticed the dangerous glint in his eyes as Steve prepared to dismiss you. Maybe you had pushed him too far today but you knew you were going to enjoy the punishment. Your thighs pressed together to try and ease the pressure already building up at your core.

Steve dismissed you and you shot out of the door to get back to your apartment quickly. A strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into a deserted room. Bucky pressed you against the wall with his hips, his arousal evident. His arms raised above your head effectively caging you in, you could feel the heat and pent up desire radiating off him. “Just couldn’t help yourself could you doll? All day I have had to put up with your teasing.” Your head tilted up in defiance, Bucky’s face mere inches from yours. You leaned forwards and dragged his bottom lip through your teeth making him hiss. “Going to have to make you pay for this doll” he breathed against you neck before connecting his mouth and sucking at the sensitive flesh there. “Counting on it soldier” you moaned before lacing your fingers in his hair and pulling his lips up to yours.

Taglist is open so let me know if you want in

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 ,  @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht​, @buckys-henley​, @lonelyheartsm​ @alexa-lightwood-blog​

[holy-stevie]

This is Jeff

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve comes home from a mission to a drunk trio and a pineapple

Warnings: Drunk reader, use of the word cummies, mentions of sex? kinda idk, CRACK, fluff, nakedness

a/n: another entry for the Flex your writing muscles challenge by @captain-rogers-beard​

Masterlist! 

Please do not repost my work anywere else! 

“Is that a pineapple wearing a party hat and sunglasses?” A very shocked Tony says from the doorway, you blink at Bucky before spinning around to face the four other avengers with said pineapple in your arms. Tony, Nat, Clint and Steve stand in front of the closing elevator doors, all four of them bruised and tired from their mission, but alive.

“Excuse you, this is Jeff.” You slur with a big sloppy smile, Sam giggles into Bucky’s shoulder behind you. Tony raises an eyebrow at you as Steve sighs before turning to his best friend.

“Buck?” He asks with his hands on his hips, Bucky shrugs his shoulders carelessly, too busy pressing sloppy kisses to Sam’s cheek. Steve groans before placing his duffle bag on the ground lightly and walking up to you and taking the pineapple, Jeff, from your arms and placing it down on the table.

“Where did you even get that?” Tony asks curiously, not remembering ever having party hats and pineapples. You lean against Steve as you answer.

“Well the sunglasses are Clint’s, he wanted to look cooler. The party hat is from Bucky’s room, something about sticking junior in it to surprise Sam. And the pineapple is from my room cause Stevie wanted his cummies to taste better.” You slur out, Tony erupting into laughter as Steve chokes and blushes fiercely.

“Okay that’s enough for tonight.” Steve says sternly as he lifts you into his arms, ignoring your whining as he shoots Nat a look to send Sam and Bucky to bed. You whine as you become limp in Steve’s arms as he takes you out of the lounge room, heading towards the living quarters with the little bit of dignity he has left.

“Friday please tell me you recorded that!” Steve hears Tony bark out in between his loud laughs, your own drunk giggle taunting Steve. He slams the bedroom door closed behind the both of you, setting you on the end of the bed as he goes to the bathroom, starting the shower and giving it the time to heat up as he goes back to gather you up.

Steve struggles to undress you, chuckling at your drunken rambling about the “hot blonde in the mirror” and how he had a glorious ass. He eventually manages to get you under the warm stream, quickly undressing himself before joining you.

“Do you think I can drink this?” You say as you hold up the shampoo bottle, squinting as you try to read the label. Steve is quick to take the bottle out of your hands with a shake of his head, gesturing for you to turn around so he can wash your hair.

Steve washes your body and combs the conditioner through your hair, chuckling to himself at your drunk antics. By the time he’s slipping one of his t-shirts over your head and a pair of panties up your legs, your eyes are drooping. He guides you down under the covers before slipping in next to you, breathing out a laugh as you immediately throw yourself over his chest, leg thrown over his hips with a content smile.

“Night Stevie.” You mumble out into his neck, your voice soft and drained from the long night you had. He smiles before pulling you closer and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, mumbling out a soft goodnight that makes you hum into the skin of his neck.

“I regret so many things, like the sun. Why does the sun exist?” Steve chuckles at your groaning, getting up to shut the curtains before setting a glass of water and two small pain pills down next to you.

“I have a training session; will you be okay baby?” He asks, making sure to keep his voice low as he rubs your arm softly. You whine but nod, your eyes peeking out of the blankets to smile at him softly. He kisses your forehead again before heading for the door, halting with his hand on the door handle when he hears you speak up.

“I did not say cummies oh my GOD” Steve just laughs, leaving you to the memories of your drunken night. 

Taglist: @scarletsoldierrr​ @chrisevans-imagines​ @patzammit​ @onetwo3000​ @yoncevans​

[need-a-fugue]

Little Bird

Summary: A nice leisurely morning in your husband’s arms is exactly what you need right now. But feeling warm and safe can cause secrets and doubts to spill so easily…

Author’s note: For the Flex Your Muscles Writing Challenge from @captain-rogers-beard​ (6/18). This prompt sparked a little something-something… I’ve been struggling on piecing together a story I’ve been working on for a bit, and this scene just tumbled right out thanks to one lovely, little word… Leisurely.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: all pretty tame, just some sweetness and angst

Word count: 2K

Mornings had been rough lately, streams of light from the rising sun peeking through the window long before your tired body is ready to greet the day, the brilliant orange hues setting your stomach to clench and roil in bitter anticipation. Most days, you roll out of bed with a slow groan, hoping to make it to the bathroom before the full force of nausea hits, only to end up racing in a flourish the moment you leave the small air conditioned bedroom, the Wakandan heat prickling your senses to make this sickness that much more unbearable.

A typical morning meant violently emptying your stomach into the toilet down the hall, your husband at your back – only half awake himself – holding your hair and trailing a gentle, cooling touch down the back of your neck with his blissfully cold vibranium fingertips.

But today, for the first time in weeks, the swiftly rising sun seemed to herald little more than a slow and languid wakening, you and Bucky both stirring and stretching and shifting, leisurely curling round one another, just as you had before this new phase of life began.

For an hour or more, you’d been – gratefully, blessedly – slipping in and out of that splendid sort of sleep that only early mornings can bestow… the kind that had been eluding you for so damn long now. Bucky feels it too, the serene pull of respite that you both know is about to become increasingly rare, a new disruption to your life lingering on the horizon.

But today, there’s no disruption at all. No rush to rise – I’ll take care of the goats later, he whispers into your ear before sliding his way down the sheets – and no sickness churning within.

Today is… easy.

The smallest, softest sigh slips past your lips as you shift your hips beneath him. “You’re spending an awful lot of time down there,” you mutter, voice slow and deep with near sleep.

Bucky tugs you closer, right hand splayed over your hip, thumb tracing delicately along the tender flesh of your abdomen, and he looks up, propping his chin on your middle as he aims those dazzling blue eyes your way. “Never heard you complain about me hanging out down here before,” he intones lightly, wiggling his eyebrows before lowering his lips to your stomach.

“Stop it,” you laugh, squirming beneath him, sliding far enough down the bed that the back of your head flops off of the pillow entirely. “Tickles,” comes out in a barely there murmur as your fingers move down to thread idly through his thick, wavy hair.

He turns his head, laying his cheek once again atop your still-flat abdomen, staring up at you in a way that could only be described as utterly adoring. “I love you,” he announces, exhaling the words just as easily as if they were air.

The corner of your mouth quirks up, a single brow following it in an incredulous raise. “Are you sure it’s me that you love? Because I don’t feel like you’re really paying much attention to me at all.”

His face twists, forehead crinkling. “She is you,” he says plainly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You let out a small groan, hips twisting a bit again before his hands settle you back into the sheets, holding you in place.

“Stop distracting me,” he tells you, tone chiding, but eyes gleaming as he presses himself closer, head angling a bit at your center. “I’m trying to listen to my baby girl.”

“Yeah, sure,” you sigh out dramatically. “I’ll bet she’s talking up a storm. She’s the size of a freakin’ kumquat.”

“I don't even know what that is,” he murmurs, completely unfazed.

You give him a playful shove, the heat from his body starting to get to you, sheets sticking to your naked thighs. “It’s a fruit. And much like your baby girl,” you mutter with a harrumph, “it doesn’t speak.”

He rolls his eyes and lets out an almost irritated sigh. “I’m listening to her move,” he tells you, an air of absolute duh coating the statement.

You give his hair a short tug. “You are not.”

“Am too,” he argues, raising a brow – but never moving his ear from your center. “Super hearing, remember?”

Now you’re the one to roll your eyes, shifting again, eager to move, annoyance at being held prisoner in your own bed beginning to swell. “It’s probably just her heartbeat.”

He raises his head and gives you a disappointed look. “I know what her heartbeat sounds like,” he says blandly before lowering himself back down. “Thrums like crazy. Like you when you try to run.”

Another light shove. “What do you mean try to run? Is that a crack about my perfectly acceptable human speed? Because I will have you know – ”

“You used to run cross-country,” he interrupts blithely. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

A slight frown tugs at your lips, your stare focusing on the ceiling above for a long, silent moment before you pull yourself up onto your elbows. Looking down at him – so content and relaxed as he rests with his head against your middle – you almost scowl at his ease, your brows tugging tightly together. “You can really hear her move?”

The widest, brightest smile flashes – along with a light laugh as he takes note of the concern belying your crumpled countenance. “Yeah. Does that freak you out?”

“Kinda,” slips out, almost a whisper, as you nervously pull your bottom lip in between your teeth. He issues another short chuckle, and you flop back to the bed. “Reminds me of Alien,” you say, throwing your forearm dramatically over your eyes. “Like I don’t have enough nightmares already.”

Bucky pulls away from your belly and slowly sidles up alongside you, his right hand raking up beneath your loose T-shirt and along your ribs as he goes. “Oh?” he murmurs into your neck, both arms wrapping around your torso as he snuggles in close. A chaste but lingering kiss is pressed to your warm skin, the slightest hint of vanilla – a taste, a smell – hitting his senses, enduring on his lips as he pulls away. “Why you having nightmares, baby?”

“I’m… stressed,” you tell him weakly, still hiding beneath your arm.

He pulls back a bit and lets out a languid sigh, reaches out and tenderly runs the pad of his flesh thumb over your dramatically pouting bottom lip. “Don’t want that,” he says with a frown of his own.

You shake your head and huff out a breath, finally pull your arm away and turn onto your side to gaze somberly at him. Your left hand falls to his cheek, heavily stubbled, the beard coming and going seemingly on a whim. Though you know the truth, his ongoing scheme to alternately annoy you with whiskered kisses and then delight you with long-awaited clean-shaven snuggles an ill-kept secret at best. You stroke your thumb down the length of his face, bringing it to rest in the divot of his chin. Your eyes fall down to stare briefly at the oh-so-familiar dimple, a soft sigh of a declaration tumbling out of you. “I hope she gets this.”

He shifts beside you, drawing your eyes back up to his, to see them narrow with concern. “Why are you stressed, baby?” he asks simply. As though there might actually be a simple response.

You shrug, gaze falling into the small space between you. Outside, the sun has fully risen, the sounds of chirping birds and naying goats filtering in through the half-open window. One of the cats jumps onto the bed, begins rubbing around your ankles, purring thickly.

Bucky gives you a tiny jostle with his vibranium hand, cupped low around your hip. “What have you been dreaming about?” he tries instead.

Another shrug, though this time you swallow thickly and tick your eyes up to meet his. “They’re just… they’ve been… I don’t know… weird. Not nightmares, really. Just… I don’t know.”

“Okay,” he issues out with a curious lilt. “What happens in them?”

You lick your lips, eyes darting away briefly, crease deepening in your forehead as you think. Think of what to say. Of how to explain. “Sometimes… I see her,” you murmur finally, the words sounding uncertain, almost iniquitous, even to your own ears. “As a baby. As a little girl.” You shift uncomfortably, letting out a small, agitated groan. And he tightens his hold on you, brings his flesh hand up to stroke soothing lines down your back.

“You see her?” he asks, a bit hesitant. “Our baby?”

You nod into him, ducking your face and burying it in the crook of his neck. “It’s never anything… bad. Never really anything at all. I’m rocking her at night. Or… I’m watching her color at a table. Or…” Your voice fades off into nothing, other words… other dreams sitting low in your throat, clamoring to rise as you effortfully swallow them back down.

“Sounds nice,” he offers simply, the heat from his breath – from his body, so close – setting your nerve endings aflame.

You shake your head, still choking on the truth. A deep tremble builds within your chest, spills out to quake Bucky’s gripping arms. “It doesn’t feel nice.” Your tired eyes blink shut, a barrage of simple, serene images playing on the backs of your lids. Simple, yet… “It’s like… there’s nothing wrong… nothing I can see. But…” You pull back just a bit, open hooded eyes to stare helplessly up at him. “It all feels… wrong.”

He’s silent for a long moment as he watches you closely, thinks on what to say. A single thumb begins to stroke along your shoulder blade, his hand beneath your shirt feeling sticky and hot, and… unwelcome. You twitch awkwardly, his thumb stilling as a soft sigh spills from his chest. “Just nerves,” he mutters then, no intonation of a question, but a lack of surety all the same. Another sigh falls as he tucks you in close, peeling his sweaty hand from your skin and instead draping his arm heavily over your hip. “I’m scared too,” he breathes into your hair, laying a lingering kiss to your crown. “Scared I’ll screw something up. Scared I might… hurt her.”

You shift in his grasp, head shaking fluidly back and forth. “You wouldn’t. You won’t.”

He rests his chin in your hair, reaches up to begin again the slow, soft stroke up and down your spine. “It’ll be okay, baby,” he whispers, the oft-repeated words laying out promises even he knows are brittle and frail. “It’ll all be okay.”

The anxious worry – the tattered fear – that sloughs off of him, sounding in his voice, pulsating through his fingertips, is enough to make you wish you hadn’t said a word. You shake your head again, an attempt to rid your mind of the building thoughts… the budding what ifs that these odd and portending dreams had been causing to ripple through your subconscious mind for so many days… nights.

But now it’s morning, so different from the night, when all your doubts come out to play. Sleep. Lazy, languid, sunrise sleep feeling like a warm and welcoming breeze blowing across your still-trembling body. The promise of sleep – light and airy and dreamless – seems but a breath away as you lay here… you and your baby both laying here in Bucky’s arms. Safe, if only for today.

“What does she sound like?” you ask, voice light, an almost forced optimism rushing through it.

A crooked smile blooms across his face as he presses another soft kiss into your hair. “Sounds like… a little flutter.”

“Hm,” you breathe out, eyes drifting shut, nothing but a tranquil, faded image of the partially open window playing on your lids. “Like a little bird?”

“Yeah, baby,” he whispers, tugging you close as your breathing begins to deepen, body growing heavy in his grip. “Just like a little bird.”

[thebestpersonherelovesbucky]

Hidden Stars

Summary: A year ago, biker and mechanic Steve Rogers reluctantly did a repair job for Brock Rumlow, a member of the biker gang, Hydra. As a bonus for a job well done, Rumlow insisted on sending his boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, over for a night. What Steve never expected was to fall hopelessly in love with the guy.

((this can totally be read as is but it’s technically a continuation of an earlier biker au of mine which can be found here: Part One Part Two))

Characters: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 3.2k

Tags: abuse, hurt/comfort, pining, hopeful ending

written for @captain-rogers-beard​​‘s  Flex Your Writing Muscles Challenge 

Prompt:A late night bike ride under the stars 

The text comes in shortly after six in the morning. Steve’s phone buzzing on the nightstand wakes him. He groans softly and feels for it without picking his head off the pillow. Several things fall as he does. 

When he finally grabs it, Steve grunts some more, smacks his lips together, and figures it’s nothing more than a group text from Tony or Sam. Maybe even just a stupid telemarketing text. Something about him winning a gift card from Amazon. 

It’s not.

It’s anything but.

It’s from Bucky, and Steve is suddenly wide awake.

His breath catches as he shoots upright and quickly clears the screen, fumbling with his passcode three times before he finally gets it. Steve, breathing so hard he might have an asthma attack, clicks on the message to read it.

Can we see each other tonight? Midnight? 

The answer, of course, is yes. Even if Steve did have plans, which he doesn’t, he’d cancel them. He hasn’t seen Bucky in six weeks. Not since their last trip upstate to the flea market. 

They have a complicated relationship. Complicated in every sense and meaning of the word. All because Brock Rumlow aka Crossbones, a higher-up in the Hydra biker gang, walked into Steve’s garage with his bike last year, and thought Steve did such a good job, that he offered him a bonus--a night with his boyfriend. 

Steve hadn’t wanted to take that job. He’d spent the past few years building up a decent reputation, converting the garage of his family home into a business after the sudden death of his mother. The last thing he wanted or needed was for the local biker gangs thinking he was readily available for their use. 

Luckily, that didn’t happen. Even if it did, Steve wouldn’t change a thing. Without that job, he’d’ve never met Bucky. 

Steve is fairly sure he fell in love with Bucky that night. A few hours. That’s all it took to fall head over heels for the kind, gentle, witty, beautiful boyfriend of that lowlife creep, Crossbones. If there’s anyone less deserving to have Bucky by their side, it’s him. To be honest, Steve isn’t quite sure he’s all that deserving either--what with the way he’s closed himself off from his closest friends after the accident--but, at the very least, he’d never mistreat him the way Brock Rumlow does.

He’s controlling and manipulative and cruel, and even though Bucky won’t admit it, Steve is sure that he gets physical with him. He’s seen the evidence--fading bruises, the way Bucky sometimes flinches if Steve lifts his hand too quickly, the excuses he makes for his behavior. 

This past year, Steve has tried everything he could think of to get Bucky to leave him. It won’t be easy, he knows that. Leaving Hydra isn’t as simple as walking out the door but Steve is very willing to risk everything to help Bucky do it. Because, yes, he’s that worth it. 

Only Bucky doesn’t see it. Or, rather, he’s too afraid to. 

So they’ve kept their relationship a secret. Completely. Brock Rumlow has no idea about their clandestine meetings. Stolen moments once a month where they ride upstate together to go to that flea market. A night hidden in heat and passion, and few others snuck in here or there when they can manage. 

But then, two weeks ago, on the Sunday they were meant to meet for their monthly ride upstate, Bucky didn’t show.

Sure something horrible had happened, Steve sent message after message, panicked and terrified. After two days of worrying, he finally got a response. Just one thing.

Don’t ever contact me again.

Then, nothing. 

Not until this text this morning, and Steve doesn’t know if he should be worried or excited. 

Midnight can’t get here fast enough.

Which, of course, only means that the entire day drags. Seconds tick by like minutes. Hours go by like days. 

Steve doesn’t hear from Bucky again and he’s actually too nervous to try texting him first. He tries throwing himself into his work. He’s got a few quickies today. One bike here for an oil change. One for an inspection. Another that needs some more attention since it’s sputtering. It’s hot today. Humid. The air conditioner in the wall cools his garage off a little, but since he keeps the door open during business hours, it’s not exactly refreshing. 

Sweat drips down Steve’s face as he works. Dirt and grease stick to him more today because of it. When he gets a little dizzy, Steve realizes that it’s well past noon and he’s had nothing to eat other two slices of toast with strawberry jam right after he woke up. Dehydrating and ending up in the hospital instead of meeting with Bucky is not what he as planned for today, so he takes a lunch break and sits inside to cool off a bit.

Of course, cooling off just makes all that sweat and filth and grime stick to him even more. Steve doesn’t really mind. He never really did. There’s something almost comforting in his work getting him so dirty. Like physical proof of what he’s done. 

Before going back to work, Steve checks his phone. He pretends that he’s checking for any work calls or one of his friends--since he’s been trying hard to reconnect with them this year--but he’s really hoping for another message from Bucky. When he sees none, he sighs and heads back to work.

Once he’s finished with the business side of his garage, it’s still only four o’clock so he focuses on his own project. Fixing up a Harley Davidson-WLA, the very same they used during World War Two.

Not that that holds his attention for very long since all he can think of is those amazing moments he’s shared with Bucky sitting here next to him. Them working on their bikes together. There’s something intimate and sensual about that. The way Bucky’ll let him work on his, handing him tools and getting his hands dirty right along with him. Working on another person’s bike, Steve knows, is a very personal and private thing. He’s honored that other avid bikers trust him with theirs, but Bucky’s trust makes him glow. 

Before Steve knows it, he’s sitting on his couch staring at an off television screen. Nerves tap dance through his belly, fast and offbeat. He’s already showered--scrubbed off the grease and grime as best he could. At least he doesn’t smell. Well, maybe of motor oil but he doesn’t think Bucky’ll mind very much. 

By the time it’s eleven, Steve can take it anymore. It’ll only take about twenty minutes at the most to reach their usual meeting spot under the bridge, but he’d rather be on his bike, be outside, watch the stars while waiting for Bucky than pacing back and forth in his living room. 

The fresh air actually does do him some good. The feel of the wind rushing by him, the world nothing but a blur of colors. Clears his senses, so instead of heading straight to the bridge, Steve decides on just taking a ride to keep his mind focused on the world from the view of his bike. 

When he finally does get to the bridge, it’s just a few minutes past minutes and Bucky’s already there. He’s leaning on the guard rail, looking out across the Hudson River. He doesn’t turn when Steve gets there. Not even after he dismounts next to Bucky’s bike and goes over to him.

“Hey,” Steve greets as he approaches. “Bucky.”

Bucky sort of turns a little more away from him. He’s wearing his leather jacket and his hair is actually down instead of pulled back in his normal, messy bun. From what Steve can see of his face, he’s chewing on one of his toothpicks.

“Hey, Steve.”

“I was, uh, I was worried,” he admits, not moving any closer to Bucky though he sure as hell wants to. “When you didn’t show and then...”

“Yeah.” Bucky sniffs. “Sorry ‘bout that. Things got...a little hectic.”  

“You don’t have to--” Steve clears his throat which is suddenly too thick with emotion. “Are you all right?”

Only answering that with a nod, Bucky, who’s been holding himself tense and rigid, allows his hand to slide on the railing toward Steve’s. They touch, just barely, but it’s enough to burn.

“Thanks for meeting me,” Bucky murmurs just over the soft blow of the wind.”I just...needed to get out for a bit but I didn’t wanna be alone.” 

“Okay,” Steve answers, growing more concerned with each passing second. “You’re not alone. I’m here. If you need to...to talk--Bucky, why won’t you look at me?”

Yanking his hand back as though worried Steve might force him to turn his way--he wouldn’t, of course--Bucky wraps his arms around himself like he’s desperate to keep from falling apart. 

“I shouldn’t be here,” he whispers, mostly to himself but Steve can clearly hear. “If he finds out...he’ll kill you.”

“Who?” Steve asks. “Brock? Is that what you’re worried about? Did something happen with him?”

Head lowering with a shake and a dark chuckle, Bucky lets out a disgruntled sigh and fully turns his back to Steve.

“He doesn’t know,” Bucky murmurs. “About us, I mean. That Sunday I was supposed to meet you, he ended up...wanting me...elsewhere.”

That could mean a lot of things. For all Steve knows, it just means that Rumlow wanted to spend the day with him. It could also mean that Rumlow sent him to someone the same way he sent him to Steve that first time. Either way, whatever Bucky had done that day made it impossible for him to answer any of Steve’s texts. 

“I was so worried,” Bucky continues, “that he’d notice all the texts I was getting that day. He didn’t but...”

“That’s why you told me not to contact you again.”

It’s an assumption, but Bucky sighs again and nods, so Steve takes that as meaning he’s right.  

“I’m sorry, Steve, I just didn’t know what else to do. If he hurts you--”

“I don’t care if he hurts me,” Steve interrupts. “I care about you, Bucky.” He might not respond well to Steve saying how much he loves him, not now, maybe not ever, but Steve needs to make him see how much he means to him. “If anything ever happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”

This time, Bucky scoffs as though morbidly amused by what Steve’s said. Like he can’t imagine that could ever possibly be true. As if too tired and exhausted to keep arguing about this with him, Bucky spins around and tries something else.

“I can’t possibly be worth that to you, Steve.” 

Steve knows that Bucky’s just said something to him. Something about lack of knowing self-worth and Steve’s feelings for him, and that’s important. It’s all important. But at the moment, all that Steve hears are the bruises screaming at him across Bucky’s face. 

His right eye is swollen. His lips are busted. His forehead is dotted with bruising as well. 

“Jesus, Bucky!” Steve exclaims, and he knows it’s too rough...it’s too loud... too much...and Bucky flinches from the words and volume. “What happened?!”

All the color drains from Bucky’s face. It’s almost like he’d forgotten, just for a moment in his doubt of Steve’s feelings for him, that he’d intended to keep this hidden. 

He takes a hurried step back--maybe out of fear, maybe out of something else--and shakes his head.

“It’s nothing!” he cries. “It was my fault, I know better than to mouth off to him, I should’t’ve...” He stops there like he’s his words’ve hit a brick wall and bursts into tears. “He’s never...”Bucky heaves in a big gulp of air and staggers on the exhale. “Not like this...”

Steve, not sure if it’s better to reach out and hold Bucky or not even try to touch him, is ready to tear across the entire world if he has to so he can rip apart Brock Rumlow piece by piece. But, right now, Bucky’s more important. 

“Bucky, it’s...” How to comfort him? With big, strong arms? Soft words? Steve doesn’t know what might make this better and what might make this worse. It’s a fine line between the two. “It’s not your fault. No matter what happened, it’s not your fault. It’s his. A-and...and you’re safe. Right now, you’re safe. He can’t hurt you. Not when you’re here with me.”

Hoping to offer more reassurance than that, Steve opens his arms. He stays where he is, though. Wants this to be Bucky’s choice. 

Bucky, sniffling and still teary-eyed, dives into his embrace and holds onto him so tightly that Steve can feel him trembling. 

“I was gonna leave,” he weeps into Steve’s shirt. “I had a bag packed. Hidden in the back of the closet. He found it. And he...” Did what he did. Steve gets it. “He said if I ever tried again he’d break both my legs. Oh, Steve, I’m so sorry, he’ll kill you if he finds me with you but I’ve been so scared and I needed to get out for a little bit so when he left tonight I just...I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Steve whispers over and over. “It’s okay, Bucky, you’re okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m here, baby, I’m here.”  

They stand there together, with Bucky tucked in Steve’s arm, for an unmeasurable amount of time. The world goes on around them. Cars moving over the bridge. Clouds passing overhead. People out for a late night stroll. Here, with Bucky, times stands still. 

Eventually, Bucky’s tears dry and his breaths even and even his trembling comes to a stop. He doesn’t move, though, so Steve keeps him in his arms, gently petting a hand over him every now and then. 

“Bucky,” Steve whispers a long while later, “Bucky, please, let me help you.” Already rejecting the idea with fevered shakes of his head, Bucky starts to pull away. “Please, Bucky,” Steve implores, “please. I have...I have friends who can help get you away. Get you somewhere safe. I promise, he’ll never hurt you again.”

Though he’s pulled away, Bucky remains holding onto Steve’s arms, as though not willing to part from him. He still shakes his head. 

“N-no. No, Steve, I can’t. I...” He looks across the river. “Just...ride with me? Tonight? Please, we can go to that little bed and breakfast we stayed at right after Christmas, remember?” Bucky, eyes filling again with tears, gives him a weak, unconvincing smile and a nod. “Please? I...I know I can’t leave him, but I can’t go back there tonight and he’s gone for the rest of the week. Please, say you’ll come with me.” 

“Bucky...”

“Please.” His voice is so soft. So pleading, and it rips Steve’s heart in two. “Just a late night bike ride under the stars and a good night’s sleep. That’s all I need. Please, Steve.” 

“O-okay,” Steve agrees. He’ll agree to absolutely anything to comfort Bucky right now. “Okay, we’ll go. We’ll go right now, baby.”

The way Bucky smiles at him now, so hopeful and desperate, it makes Steve want to drop to his knees and beg him to let him help. That won’t do now. He’s not going to listen to any of Steve’s good-intentioned begging. Not his offers to help him. Right now, the only thing Steve can do to help is bringing him some place to rest. A place to feel safe. 

That, Steve’ll do.

A late night bike ride under the stars. The world fading to just the two of them as they ride separately but together. Last-minute check-ins at a quaint, little bed and breakfast that, fortunately, still had a vacancy. 

“Thank you, Steve,” Bucky whispers when Steve locks the door behind them. “I know you didn’t really wanna come here. I’m sorry I made you.”

“You didn’t make me do anything, Bucky,” Steve murmurs, approaching slowly, cautiously, so that he doesn’t startle him. “I wanted to come with you.”

“No.” Bucky shakes his head. “You didn’t. But thanks for comin’ anyway. I’m...” He points over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’m gonna take a shower. You won’t...go anywhere, will you?”

“Mm-mm.” Steve sits down on the king-sized bed. “I’ll be right here.”  

When Steve hears the water turn on and the shower curtain pull closed, he grabs his phone and, despite the late hour, calls his oldest friend in the world, Peggy Carter.

She works with victims of domestic abuse. Both counseling and trying to help them escape toxic relationships. Maybe she can give Steve some advice. 

Amazingly, after only three rings, she answers.

“Hello? Steven? Is everything all right?”

“Uh. hey, Peg, I’m so sorry for calling so late,” he says. “I’m okay. But...”

After listening to Steve hurry and tell her everything he knows and making her aware of the current situation, Peggy’s first piece of advice is plain and simple.

“Okay, first of all, you need to keep calm. That’s most important right now.”

Because they have a limited amount of time to talk before Bucky gets out of the shower, Peggy does her best to help. She tells him to remain supportive and be friendly but not preachy and not to blame him for anything that’s happened. 

“Be open to just listening to him,” she says. “He needs to know that you’re a safe person to talk to. Don’t criticize. You can offer him my number or any other abuse hotlines this way he can talk to a professional anonymously. You have to remember, Steve.” The way her voice changes slightly is proof that this part is important. “You can’t make him do anything. This needs to be his choice. If he’s not ready and you try to force him, you run the risk of him closing off from you altogether.” 

“Right,” Steve whispers just as the water turns off. If he’s going to help Bucky, he needs to listen to Peggy and do what she says no matter how difficult it might be. “I...I gotta go, Peg. Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime, my darling,” she says. “I hope to hear from either of you soon.”

Steve would give a better farewell, but the door to the bathroom starts to open, so he quickly ends the call. Not quite quick enough, though. Towel around his waist and locks of wet hair hanging down to his chin, Bucky glances at the phone in Steve’s hand and then up to his face. Twice. 

“Who...” His lips set in a line. “Who were you on the phone with?”

“Just a friend,” Steve tells him honestly. “Peggy. Don’t worry. She doesn’t know where we are or who you are or anything like that, I promise.”

At first, Steve’s not sure if Bucky believes him. Looks as though, for a moment at least, that he’s considering making a run for it. He doesn’t. Instead, he heaves a sigh and, after plucking a toothpick from his jacket’s pocket, sits down next to Steve. 

He turns that toothpick over in his hands for a moment or two before finally sticking it in his mouth. 

They’re quiet as they sit together. After a few minutes of silence, Steve slowly reaches up and sweeps some of Bucky’s hair away from his face. He leans in and presses a tender kiss to his shoulder. Over soft skin covered in beautiful tattoos. Gently, he coaxes Bucky’s chin from side to side so that he could get a better look at him to make sure those bruises haven’t gotten any worse. He might wanna get him some ice for that eye. 

Steve cups Bucky’s cheek and when he does, Bucky’s eyes softly fall shut. He hums and leans into the touch. 

“Do you wanna talk about it, baby?”

Eyes opening again, Bucky, placing his own hand over the top of Steve’s to keep it there, shakes his head.

“No. Please, don’t make me.”

“Oh, no,” Steve whispers and breathes a kiss to Bucky’s brow. “Never. I just wanted to offer.”

“I’m just...real tired, Steve. I wanna go to sleep.”  

Steve nods and peels back the covers. Bucky, still only in that towel, crawls beneath them, tugging on the sleeve of Steve’s T-shirt to bring him along. Steve obliges and gets into the bed with him. 

As soon as he’s settled, Bucky curls against him with his head practically in his lap. Steve pets a hand over his head. Whispers soft words. Things about how he’s safe. He’s here with him. No one can hurt him now. 

And Bucky, Steve thinks, falls asleep within minutes. 

Steve, on the other hand, stays awake. Just in case Bucky wakes and needs him. He’ll stay awake all night if he has to. 

And he’ll still be here in the morning. 

Whatever the sun might bring with it, Steve will see this through until Bucky’s away and safe from Brock Rumlow. 

Even if that takes him the rest of his life. 

[valravnwrites]

Revenant

Title: Revenant

Author:  Mina @valravnwrites​

Summary: An unexpected realisation.

Prompt/s Used: Photo / Word / Flash Fiction / Other

Characters: Reader.

Word Count: 549

Warnings: Loss. Description of suicide.

Author’s Notes: Written for @captain-rogers-beard​’s Flex Your Writing Muscles Challenge. June 2nd Edition.

You had been here before.

Perhaps not in this lifetime, but you felt you knew this place, almost as well as the back of your hand.

Your legs had brought you here of their own volition, you had only set out for a small walk to clear your head after a hectic day at work, and you had found yourself here.

Looking up, you gazed at the old abandoned lighthouse on the cliffs edge. A beautiful sight in itself, made even more beautiful by the reflections it left in the still waters of the rock pools, left in the wake of low tide.

Slipping off your shoes, you pressed forward, feeling the warm dark sand beneath your feet as you made your way closer to the rocky face.

As you neared, you craned your neck up, the sheer incline now looking a lot higher than it did from the side of the secluded beach. Tracing the shapes of the rocks with your eyes, they came to rest just off the shore in the shallow water, there was something out there.

After a moment of thought, you slipped your shoes back on and made your way across the craggy surface of the once submerged rocks at the base of the cliff, towards the object that had caught your eye.

Getting closer, you tilted your head, recognising the small piece of jewellery caught on the sharp peak of the final rock.

With an outstretched arm, you tried to reach it, your fingertips mere millimetres from the silver of the chain. Straining yourself, you pushed your body forward, fingers curling around metal, cooled from the water it was once concealed by.

Lifting the chain you brought it closer to you, lowering the small locket attached into your hand.

The moment it touched your skin, you were a spectator to tragedy. You saw her, hand clutched to this very same locket atop the cliff, but before you could call out to her, she had flung herself from the edge, her form hurtling towards the sea. You felt her loss as she fell, something in her was broken, and just as she was to meet the sea, a wave came crashing down where she would have landed.

With the spectre gone, and your body now damp from the wave, you took a closer look at the locket. The outside etched with an intricate pattern, the year 1854 engraved on the back. 

Taking a deep breath you opened it, not sure what you were hoping to find.Inside the locket you found two tiny photographs, the glass protecting them broken and weathered. 

The first was a young man, although his features were faded from time, there was no doubt that he was attractive.

The second took you by surprise, your eyes widening as you realised you know the young lady in this photograph. You had seen her face time and time again, and there was no mistaking it. This was .. this was you.

As you stood, eyes still fixated on the locket, the hair on the back of your neck stood up and a shiver ran the length of your spine. You felt a presence, and upon turning you saw a figure, cloaked in the shadow of the cliff, stood on the shoreline.

“You came back.”

[pinknerdpanda]

Sunset

Word Count: 2,649

Characters: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Language, feelings of abandonment and hopelessness (but it gets better!!)

SSB Square Filled: “The man on the bridge, who Was he?” (bolded and italicized below)

A/N: This was written for my beautiful Name Twin - @amanda-teaches​ Writer + Reader Challenge (prompt bolded below) and also @captain-rogers-beard​ Flex Your Writing Muscles Challenge (photo prompt in the title graphic is from 6/4). It also fulfills a square on my @star-spangled-bingo​ card. This began as something rather therapeutic for me, and it became a whole lot fuffier than I expected. So...yay?

Beta’d by: @shy-violet-soul​ who always encourages me and showers me with love, and @princessmisery666​ who has helped me with this fic in more ways than I can even describe. Everytime I hit a wall, she was there with help, support, love and ideas and I am so thankful for her. 

It felt wrong.

The sunset was spectacular - fiery hues of crimson and amber evening kissing the brilliant blue of the fading day; ashen shades of violet and lavender the only evidence of their embrace. The last remnants of sunlight danced across the rippling surface of the water, painting the gentle waves in warmth as they lapped against the shoreline.

Salt hung heavy in the air as it whipped loose strands of hair around your face. The taste lingered on your tongue like a lovers’ kiss as you tried in vain to brush the wayward locks from your eyes. 

So wrong.

Soft laughter punctuated every dull crash of the tide upon the sand. You watched the dwindling groups of people hold onto what little remained of their peaceful beach day. Though as the warmth of the day vanished, so did the people.

Being here was supposed to be a homecoming; a celebration of the person you were and the life you’d lived. It should have been a gasp of oxygen after surfacing from a deep dive; sustaining, energizing and life-giving.

Instead, the tranquility of the scene before you only seemed to underscore the pain boiling deep behind your ribs. Even as the sky turned to ink and the stars blinked down at their reflection in the water, the anguish seared your lungs and stole your breath.

It was unsettlingly unexpected. 

A fresh wave of tears prickled the corners of your eyes and you clenched them shut in an attempt to keep them at bay. It might have worked, if you hadn't been immediately met with the vision of him behind your eyelids.

It wasn't his fault. Not really. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell. Seeing him today - even from a distance - was like pouring salt on a wound. The elation on his face as he'd grinned up at the little girl perched on his shoulders felt like a dagger straight to the chest. 

The soft sound of bare feet on sand caught your attention. You sniffed, shifting to pull your knees up to your chest as the footsteps stopped beside you. 

"You want some company?"

The gruff voice was soft and despite wanting to hate your new companion for lacing his words with such obvious pity, you couldn't. Your pain had been dealt by hands less sure than his, so you shrugged instead. There was something warm and comforting in his presence and your soul cried out for more. The feeling multiplied exponentially as he dropped to the ground beside you, his knee grazing your thigh as he folded his legs underneath him. 

"'S'pretty here."

You nodded once, weakly. Even a broken heart couldn't make you think otherwise. Once upon a time this spot had been your own, personal oasis. Well, as much of one as a public beach could provide. But you didn't need much. Life had been simple, then. Now? Now, 'simple' sounded like a fairytale. Another on a long list of things you dreamt about, but didn't dare hope for.

“The man on the bridge,” Bucky began, his voice gentle. “Who was he?”

Brass tacks. It was one of the things you admired most about him; his ability to cut straight to the heart of the matter without poetry or pretense. It wasn’t a question borne out of irritation or obligation; instead patience and comfort reigned in his words. He could read body language and facial expressions better than 99% of the planet, but you knew even the other 1% could have plainly seen the pain in the heart so cruelly branded onto your sleeve. 

“This was,” you cleared your throat as best you could with your heart taking up space there. “I used to live here. I always wanted to live by the ocean, so when I lost my job due to budget cuts, I decided ‘what the hell?’. Packed up, cashed out my savings and started driving. As soon as I hit the city limits, it felt like home. Had a hell of a time finding a job, but I did eventually. I met him there.”

You sniffed, stretching out your legs and leaning back with your palms in the sand behind you. Without having to look you knew he was watching you; waiting until you were ready to continue. 

“I never believed in love at first sight; still don’t, because that’s not what it was. He was sweet, funny,” you smiled despite yourself. “Kind to a fault. The type of kindness that infuriates you because it makes you realize how selfish you actually are. But he loved me. I don’t know why, but he did. He loved me fiercely; even when I couldn’t return it and sure as hell didn’t deserve it.”

Bucky’s breaths matched the roll of the tide; calm and gentle and unwavering. You felt him shift, his shoulder grazing yours as he matched your position.

“What happened?”

The air between you vibrated with the low timbre of his words. Not that you noticed - not really. Remembering was always the worst part; remembering just how easily you’d been forgotten. 

“The blip.” Your voice was so faint it barely registered in your own ears, but you knew he heard it. You knew from the way he inhaled deeply as he shifted; from the feel of vibranium fingers sliding gracefully across your own.

“I don’t blame him. He couldn’t know we’d all come back. I couldn’t expect him to live out the rest of his days mourning my ashes.”

The tightening in your throat and the tingling at the corners of your eyes cut off any other words you might have said. If the roles had been reversed, you wouldn’t have known what to say to yourself. But true to form, Bucky did. Brass tacks and all.

“Still hurts.” Not a question, because he knew. His words were meant every bit for himself as they were for you. 

A humorless chuckle broke from your lungs and you nodded. 

“It still fuckin’ hurts,” you agreed.

"So that's why you wanted to come here." Not a question, but an acknowledgement.

Biting your lip, you narrowed your gaze at the calm waves. "I guess I just wanted closure. I missed this place. Missed the memories I made here. I knew seeing him was a possibility, but I'd hoped.." you trailed off. 

Bucky hummed in understanding of words you couldn't find. 

You looked at him then, the sliver of moonlight above casting him in a sort of macabre splendor. Chestnut waves rendered a dozen shades of grey and gaze focused on the heavens. Trying to ease some of your burden while still obviously saddled with plenty of his own, he looked peaceful; tranquil in a way that felt contagious.

You sucked in a breath, hoping to provide him the same respite he offered you, willingly or otherwise.

“Coming back from that place - that state of nothingness - was jarring enough. But then having to face the five years worth of reality you left behind? It’s a wonder any of us are still alive today to mourn it.” Shifting again, you crossed your legs and turned to face him, his hand enveloped in both of yours. “But we are. You, me, Sam...all of us. Finding the love of my life had become a husband and father without me; it was the hardest thing I’ve ever faced. But I did - face it, I mean. And in some fucked up way, it led me to you.”

Bucky tilted his head toward you, his gaze narrowed and his eyebrow raised.

“You’ve been watching too many Lifetime movies, sweetheart,” he deadpanned, though his eyes sparkled with affection.

You shrugged. “S’true.”

Even if you’d had a second to process the mischief in his expression, you still would have been startled by the quick tug of your hands as Bucky pulled you into him. You squeaked, landing with a muted thud beside him. He caught your hands just as you tried to flick sand at him, and held you close instead. 

“You’re getting sappy, ya know that?” He sighed, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

You rose enough to see his face, blinking sweetly down at him.

"I’m sorry, what were you saying?” You purred, in feigned innocence. “I keep getting lost in your eyes.”

Bucky grumbled, his grip on you tightening as he lifted you both off the ground. “You’ve done it now.”

You giggled as you twisted away from the ticklish prodding of his fingers, though it was no use.

“Put me down, you neanderthal.” You shouted in mock protest, trying and failing to wriggle free.

“Oh you don’t have to worry about that, doll,” Bucky crooned seconds before tossing you - rather ungracefully - into the shallow water. 

Scrambling to your feet, you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. You kicked at the water, aiming for Bucky's face, but he anticipated it. Of course he did. He dodged deftly out of the way before grabbing your waist and pulling you both into the waves.

Coughing and sputtering, you shoved half-heartedly at his shoulder as a genuine smile bloomed on your lips. Neither of you seemed bothered by the water that lapped over your still entangled bodies.

"Thank you, Bucky."

"For what?" He scoffed, an incredulous but warm look moulding his features. 

"For this," you waved a hand in the air. "You didn't even ask why I wanted to be here, you just offered to come with me. Never asked for details or tried to pry. You could be off saving the world...again." Bucky rolled his eyes. "But you're here saving me, instead."

Bucky's eyes dipped to your lips as the air began to crackle with unspent energy.

"You say that like it's two different things, doll."

The heat you felt under his careful gaze only intensified as the weight of his words settled on you.

Bucky stood before you could respond, holding his hand out to help you to your feet. He didn't let go as you strolled away from the water, instead he laced vibranium fingers with your flesh ones. Just as you reached the boardwalk that would take you back to the hotel you’d rented, Bucky glanced sideways at you before redirecting his steps. Smiling, you allowed him to lead you further down the beach, unwilling to let go of the bubble of peace you’d found just yet.

“Ya know,” Bucky murmured, his thumb stroking your knuckles gently. “It took a long time for me to reconcile my past with my expectation of the future.” He paused, noticing your questioning look before continuing. “What I mean is, my past is so…” Bucky shook his head and stopped walking. 

You wrapped your free hand around his bicep reassuringly, encouraging him to continue but you waited patiently until he was ready to go on. 

Bucky cleared his throat. “For a long time, I believed my past dictated my future. It’s full of so much pain and regret and things I can never undo. I always figured my future would be more of the same; a kind of comeuppance for everything I’d done.”

“Bucky…”

His lips curled into a half smile as he squeezed your hand gently. “I know. It’s taken a lot of therapy and literal reprogramming, but I know. It wasn’t me. Not really. Even accepting that though, I still always wondered how it would frame my life going forward.”

“Your past is just that, Bucky. It’s in the past,” you cocked your head to one side. “Your future is what you make of it.”

Bucky’s smile grew and he reached out to brush the damp hair from your face. “Yours is too, ya know.”

There he was, cutting straight to the heart of the matter, with as few words as possible. Again.

As your steps resumed, you kept your grip on his arm, snuggling in close as the temperature dipped slightly without the sun to warm the air.

“When I first met you, I had no idea what to make of you,” Bucky chuckled. “Honestly, you were a little intimidating.”

You scoffed. “You were intimidated by me?”

“Well, yeah,” Bucky sighed. “I was so irritated that Sam signed me up to be part of that support group - without telling me, mind you - but then you were there. You were funny, gorgeous and kind. You were so quiet, but there was this fire behind your eyes, and I wanted to know why you kept it locked up.”

The memory of that first meeting made your stomach twist. The plan had been to bide your time in silence so you could at least tell your therapist you’d gone. You’d wanted to be anywhere but there, until he walked in. The whole room had recognized him - if the quiet gasps and whispers were anything to go by - and it had been painfully obvious how uncomfortable that had made him. 

Bucky laughed. “I’ll never forget the way you plopped down in the seat beside me, threw a bottle of water at me and glared at Frank and Donna until they stopped staring.”

“They were being rude.” You shrugged.

“They’re nice.” Bucky countered.

You shrugged again. “They are, but that night they were being rude. Nothing screams ‘Welcome to our blip support group’ like oogling the new guy.”

“Alright, well my point is,” Bucky stopped again, this time turning to face you, his hands gripping your shoulders gently. “I knew from the moment you shot icy death glares at them, that whatever my future held, I wanted you to be a part of it.”

Blinking, you opened and closed your mouth a few times before frowning. 

“Remind me again who’s been watching too many Lifetime movies, Buck?”

“I’m serious,” Bucky chuckled lightly. “But, I get it. The wounds are still fresh, and I don’t expect anything, but I just want you to know that I’m here. And I’ll continue to be - in whatever way you’ll let me - until you send me away. This place?” Bucky waved a hand. “This is your past. But just remember that it doesn’t get to decide your future. You do.”

You bit your lip, allowing his words to envelop you with peace and warmth and - for the first time in a long time - hope.

“I think,” you paused, furrowing your brow, “Sometimes our wounds stay fresh because we keep picking at them. I think I’m ready to leave the past where it belongs.”

Bucky hummed, thumbs rubbing circles against the balls of your shoulder.

“And for the record, Barnes? I don’t plan on sending you away any time soon. So it looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Throwing his head back, Bucky barked a laugh before sliding his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. You felt him press his lips to the top of your head as you snaked your arm around his waist, relishing his warmth.

“Well, lucky for both of us, doll. There’s no place I’d rather be.”

As you continued walking down the beach you’d once considered home, wrapped in the arms of the man who wanted to be your future, it struck you. The beauty of the setting sun had felt wrong because you’d been looking at it through the warped lens of your pain. The resplendence of the day drawing to a close wasn’t a mockery of the life you’d lost, it was a crimson and amber colored reminder that every day draws to a close and there will always be beauty to be found in the ending.

But the hope of the morning - when the sun will begin it’s reign once again, overpowering the darkness with it’s warmth and light - is where the true splendor is found. 

You glanced up at Bucky - the man offering you the same promise of the rising sun, and for the first time in a long time everything felt right.

Like what you see? Want more? My SPN Masterlist is here, and MCU is here. Thanks for reading! :)

A/N 2: I am using my new and improved taglist. If you want to be added, see this post.

Weirdos: 

@hannahindie​ @amanda-teaches​ @ellen-reincarnated1967​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @masksandtruths​ @princessmisery666​  @jamielea81​ @foxyjwls007​ @becs-bunker​ @super100012​ @shy-violet-soul​ @emoryhemsworth​ @impandagrl​

Heroes:

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[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Challenge. Story Time

Flex Your Writing Muscles Challenge

@captain-rogers-beard

Story time by Brightsun_and_darkmidnight

Chapter 3 -  June 5 Flickering stars, June 6 A dark morning, June 7 Melancholy, June 8 Cool

Words: 2,700

Warnings/notes for THIS chapter: There is no story this time, just a little of present time.

(I am going to try to make the whole month a series of child stories for bedtime. *shrugs* We will see where it goes.) Mixed the prompts again.

~ Enjoy ~

Another night had come and with it another story demanded by an eager little girl.

This time your family laid on one of the sandy beaches of Asgard. The night held flickering stars that sparkled in your daughter's eyes. You smoothed her hair back as your fingers traced her cheek in calming sensations.

Your daughter yawned before asking? "Are we really gonna stay out here tonight?"

Loki laid on the other side of your daughter, also looking down at her from the resting point of his elbow. "Yes sweetheart." 

Loki yawned and you smiled at him. 

"Tired?"

Your daughter cuddled into your side so you rubbed her arm to relax her. She hummed tiredly. Your question was more for Loki, but the answer from your daughter made you happy. You and Loki smiled at the other in a quiet agreement to remain silent for the next few minutes. 

You rested your eyes for a moment and then felt Loki's arm wrapping around your waist.

You opened your eyes to see a sweet smile on Loki's face as he looked at your daughter between you two.

"Goodnight my Love and Sweetheart."

You mumbled, "Love you."

Before you knew it you woke up with a sense of melancholy but then it made sense. Instead of a sun rise you woke to a dark morning as storms rolled in.

Loki was already fastening the supplies to the horses. He turned and looked to the sky lighting up with lightning. Then his eyes rested on you.

You got up and looked down to your daughter stirring awake as thunder rolled in the distance. She sat up rubbing her eyes. You picked her up and carried her to Loki.

Loki put her on his horse then got on. "There is a storm coming sweetie. You can go back to sleep."

You gathered the blanket, shaking the sand off and then covered your daughter in Loki's arms. You tied your daughter's horse to yours and began the ride back to the palace.

You heard the tired protests of your daughter, disappointed that she could not play on the beach. Loki promised to visit again. She huffed but accepted the answer.

You urged your horse to Loki's side. Peeking at your daughter who was asleep again. You smiled at Loki who looked tired as well.

"I think she inherited more of you than me."

Loki looked at you with a raised brow.

You whispered, "she is not a morning person either."

Loki lightly laughed. "I would say it depends on the morning events."

You agreed. "Yes. The storm was something to wake up for."

Loki looked to you with a smirk. "Waking up to you ready to start the mornings with pleasure will always be my favorite mornings." He winked at you to finish the suggestion.

You felt the effects but pushed the urge down. "She is going to wake up as soon as we get to the stables."

Loki did not look any more awake as he agreed. "She likely will."

You shivered. "It is a cool morning."

Loki bundled your daughter in the blanket tighter. He looked up to the sky that seemed to get even darker. 

"I hope we make it back to the palace”

[sublime-limeade]

Inevitable

Title: Inevitable

Author: sublime-limeade

Word Count: 422

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Unnamed OFC (reader if you wish), Bucky x Sam Wilson (platonic)

Warnings: angst, sad thoughts, language

Author’s Note: written for @captain-rogers-beard ‘s Flex Your Writing Muscles Challenge- June 12

______________________________________________________________

It had been almost a year since she left. Almost a year since she disappeared, with nothing to guide him but a letter. The letter lay untouched on his desk, its creases marked by dust. He couldn’t bring himself to open it. To read the inevitable goodbye, the inevitable heartbreak. Sam had tried to get him to read it, but he couldn’t. The first month, he sat in his room, staring at it. He got up to use the bathroom and brush his teeth after eating nothing, then sat back down and stared at it, imagining what it said. “It was all your fault, Bucky. It was never going to work. You were just too damn hard to love.” Stuff like that. He didn’t doubt she hated him, hated him through and through. He’d almost believed it, that she loved him, but then she left and reality came crashing in. He wasn’t deserving of love. Wasn’t deserving of such a bright, joyous person like her. After a month of sitting and staring, Sam got tired of his shit and forced him out of the room. He forced Bucky to go on runs with him, to train with him, to live with him again. He forced him to eat and breathe and smile again. Without her, though, it was a momentous effort. Some days it was too much. Sam understood, and left him alone for the day, but at the crack of dawn the next, he would show up banging on Bucky’s door, demanding he go on a run. It helped. As much as he loathed to admit, Sam was helping him get his life back together. It took almost six months, but Bucky had put on muscle, had started running on his own when Sam couldn’t keep up or go another mile… or four. The bad days would happen less and less often, but they never went away. After what seemed like endless days and weeks of pondering the reasons she left, he decided to try and put it behind him. He still didn’t open the letter, although he checked to make sure it was still there, that Sam hadn’t decided to get nosy and look at it. It stayed on his desk, right where she left it. The temptation niggled at him sometimes, but he shoved it down. What if it said exactly what he thought it did? What if it was worse? He didn’t know if he could handle it. So there it stayed, week after week. Month after month.

[amythedvdhoarder]

Taken Care Of

Pairing: Bucky x reader

For the Flex Your Muscles Writing Challenge set up by @captain-rogers-beard​

28th of June prompt: Making someone smile

Word count: 950

Summary: It’s that time of the month and Bucky want to try and look after his girl

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of periods and lots of fluff

Authors notes: GIF not mine. Little bit addicted to domesticated Bucky at the minute so here is another one-shot filled with adorable Bucky. Thanks to those of you reading this, I am really enjoying the comments from some of you. Please let me know what you think! X

Here is my masterlist if you want to read any of my other Bucky one-shots!

---------------------------------------------------------------

The headaches started a couple of days ago and you knew it was coming, and this time is was going to be bad. The week-long event that left you grumpy, exhausted and feeling like you had been on a year-long mission. Your temper was already shorter than normal and when you woke up that morning you were blessed with the tell-tale pain in your abdomen that felt exactly the same as being kicked in the gut. What really topped it off, was the fact you woke up to an empty bed. All you wanted to do was curl up against Bucky’s chest while his hand gently rubbed circles on your stomach. But it wasn’t to be. Instead when you reached out to his side of the bed all you felt was barely warm linen. You groaned and buried your head in the soft pillows.

10 minutes later you took a break from sulking and went to the bathroom and had a warm shower. You definitely weren’t going out today so pulled on one of Bucky’s t-shirts that fell to the middle of your thigh before grabbing one of his hoodies for good measure. Just as you were pulling your hair up into a messy bun, Bucky walked in to the room carrying a tray. It was irrational to be annoyed with him, but your stupid hormones made you irritated at the fact he wasn’t there when you woke up. “Hey doll.” Bucky stifled a chuckle as he watched you clamber back into bed and look away from him, purposefully ignoring him.

The bed dipped next to you as Bucky sat down and he put the tray down between you. It took all your will power to keep being stubborn as the smell of breakfast Bucky had cooked. “Doll, I know your mad because I got up early but I made your favourite. Blueberry pancakes and a tonne of maple syrup.” You turned to scowl at him before taking a plate and tucking into the food. “This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven” your words muffled by the food in your mouth. Bucky held up his hands in surrender before tucking into his own plate of pancakes minus the gallon of maple syrup.

After you had finished your food you arranged you pillows in preparation for a day vegging out. Bucky got rid of the breakfast things and brought you a cup of tea and hot water bottle. You watched him with your arms crossed as he began shifting furniture around the bedroom; pulling the chest of draws to the foot of the bed and placing the tv on top. He climbed in next to you. “What do you want to watch first doll?” Your resolve was weakening now. “What do you mean first? Don’t you have training with Steve?” He grinned at you “Nope, cancelled it a couple of days ago because I knew…” You couldn’t stop your mouth from falling open “You know when I’m due?” The expression on your face filled Bucky with a warm feeling, he loved knowing that he was responsible for the surprise. “Of course, I do Doll, it’s my job to look after you and make you feel better.” You shuffled over towards Bucky who lifted his arm up so you could snuggle close to him.

It wasn’t difficult to fall in love with Bucky Barnes when he said things like this. Right now, you couldn’t recall a time ever feeling more taken care of or more loved. Bucky never made you feel weak or threatened your independence. He knew you were a strong woman, it wasn’t that you needed taking care of but every now and again he couldn’t help but look after you. As far as he was concerned this made you even for all the times you had held him after a nightmare, or calmed him down after a panic attack.

You tilted your head up to look at him, a smile on your face. “I love you Buck” His fingers swept a loose strand of hair from your forehead before pressing his lips to yours softly, savouring the sweet taste of maple syrup lingering on your lips. “I love you too.” Bucky pulled away to grab something from under the bed, you grumbled at the loss of contact. As Bucky placed the box on his legs, he watched as your smile widened. “Is that all my favourite junk food?” You rooted through the box seeing the malteasers, doritos and haribo amongst other things. “All for you doll, thought we could spend the day in bed, eating crap and watching shitty tv.” You nestled back up against Bucky and settled in for the day, his arm automatically wrapping around you so that his metal fingers could rub small circles over your stomach. “If you’re going to do this every time then maybe I won’t dread them?” Bucky’s laugh sent vibrations through your body. You took the remote in your hand and got Netflix up. “You pick Buck.” You didn’t need to look to know he was frowning. “You sure? I thought you would want to choose” He reluctantly took the remote you offered him. “Yeah but if you pick what we watch I can bagsy all the malteasers.” He pinched your side gently and you let out a giggle. Bucky marvelled at the sound, nothing made him happier than taking care of his girl.

Taglist is open so let me know if you want in

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 ,  @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht​, @buckys-henley​, @lonelyheartsm​@alexa-lightwood-blog​

[captain-sparkles-who]

Sunny to Rainy

Pairing: Chris Evans au x Jayanna (ofc)

Summary: Chris and Jayanna both lose their chance.

Prompt used: Soaking in the rain- June 3rd

Warnings: Some fluff, angst, angst, and some more angst.

Word Count: 3k+

(A/N): Written for @captain-rogers-beard​ writing challenge for the month of June. Flex Your Writing Muscles Challenge. This is the first ever fic that I have written on this blog. Hope you enjoy it! :)

It was just noon. The sun was slowly setting down courtesy to what the white curtains showcased from the windows.The apartment was silent for a few moments as Jayanna poured herself a cup of tea and sat down along with her phone in her hand. She scrolled up on her phone trying to find any well-worthy things to look at and pass the time before movie night would officially start. Every other day she and her roommate, Chris Evans, would have a movie night. Jayanna would choose the movie while Chris would make the popcorn. Simple as that. Although sometimes Chris would fuss about the certain movie that Jayanna picked. There was literally no take backs, so once a movie was chosen it's the movie that they have to watch all the way through, even if Chris hated the movie so much.

Jayanna loved these movie nights. She loved seeing Chris fuss about the movie that she would pick, but in the end, Chris always ended up liking the movie. Another thing that she also loves about it was that her and Chris had that time together. Jayanna has had this huge crush on him for the past two years. She tried her best not to show the feelings every time he scooted closer to her on the couch or when he would randomly compliment her the way she looked on certain days. It was hard not to show it, but she guessed it kind of worked because Chris never has realized it. Or so she thinks.

"Hey Jay, have you seen my grey sweatpants?" A groggy voice asked once they were getting close to the kitchen.

Jayanna turned around, her mug in her hand. 

"Were you just napping?" 

Chris rubbed the tiredness from his eyes and smiled. He was so adorable sometimes. 

"Uh yeah. It was pretty rough at work today." Jayanna patted the seat next to her as Chris obliges and sits next to her.

"I think they're in the dryer."

Chris clears his throat as he is still rubbing the sleepiness from those blue eyes. 

"Sorry what?"

"Your grey sweatpants."

"Oh that, right," Jayanna slides a cup of tea towards Chris. "Thank you, Jay."

"Of course. Now hurry up, we need enough time to watch the movie I chose."

"Let me guess it's Ti-,"

"Nope! Shut up Evans. You can't guess the movie that's the rule. You just have to wait." Jayanna cuts him off in mid-sentence.

"Alright. You're the boss." Chris raises his hands up in surrender and walks back to the hallway to retrieve his sweatpants. 

~~☆☆~~

"No but really, did she really have to let him go."

"Yes. He was already dead and she was going to die along with him, but she remembered the promise they both made. That she was 'never going to let go.'"

"Yeah- but she could've easily brought him with her. You know just in case he wasn't dead."

"Okay let's say this. What if you were in her position. Would you let go or hold on?"

Chris was deep in thought. Sure, if he held on then the piece of wood would eventually sink down, but if he would let go then he would be the only surviving one. So…

"I would've held on."

Jayanna didn't have anything else to say. She just smiled at him and touched his knee. Jayanna didn’t argue any longer and took some popcorn from Chris’s bowl.

“I understand you, Chris. Good reasonable answer.” 

“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t change the subject. Don’t act like you didn’t just steal some popcorn from my bowl!” 

Jayanna nodded and continued to munch on the popcorn she just stole. “Yeah. But the movie is done already.” She smirked, that cheeky little smile of hers.

Chris couldn’t stay mad at her the whole night so he gave her his bowl of popcorn that he barely touched while they were both watching the movie. There were small moments that he too stole some popcorn from Jayanna’s bowl, so guess he called even. 

“Alright. Here take the whole thing you little smaht ass.” He accentuated his Boston accent. His brows raised as he looked at Jayanna munching away on the popcorn. 

Jayanna and Chris washed the dishes that they have used through the day and took turns in washing and drying the dishes. There was a comfortable silence between them both, but Chris found it a little too quiet so he started to hum one of his favorite songs at the moment. Jayanna didn’t say anything,  hell she didn’t even want to say anything because she feared that he would stop humming. So she stood there listening to him as he scrubbed the dishes clean. Moments like these were the little things she loved about everyday. 

~~☆☆~~

Jayanna was about to turn around and walk towards her bedroom to finally go to sleep, but she bumped into something hard, was the wall? Felt like one exactly, but once she turned around she bumped into Chris’s naked, toned, torso. For a moment she found herself lost in those blue hues of his and she never noticed landing a hand on his stomach. Chris looked down at her, his eyes were fierce he started to breath faster, his nose slowly flaring while those brows were set and still. There were no words between them, just their breathing and eyes intensely looking at each other. If actions could say words, the intensity between them was just infuriating the room and the atmosphere suddenly became warmer, or maybe it was because Jayanna and Chris were blushing. Chris reached for Jayanna’s hand that was on his stomach and held onto it with his own. He leaned forward and he took his chance on what he has been wanting to do for so long now. 

Jayanna didn’t take her hand away from him; he let him grab her hand in his and let him lean forward towards her. Her breathing started to get heavy and she couldn’t believe that they were finally going to kiss an event that she frequently dreamed about. She didn’t have to wait any longer. Chris leaned even further down and connected his lips to hers. There were sparkles. If kisses could be descriptive, Jayanna would say that she saw sparkles and fireworks lighting up the night sky. She felt butterflies fly around in her stomach and her hand still holding onto Chris's hand while her other hand was at her side. Chris held onto her head. The brown curls felt so soft under his palm and her hair smelled like vanilla and lavender. He could get used to this, but-- wait…

Chris quickly pulls himself back, his hands dropping to his sides. Jayanna was wanting more- but she wasn't going to say anything she didn't want this to end.

“Fuck. I’m sorry Jayanna, I didn’t mean-,” He muttered quickly. He walked backwards to get away from her. His hand running through his dark hair. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes were no longer holding that beautiful bright blue hue anymore. They were just simply, dark. The emotion that he had during their kiss was gone. He just seemed stiff like a statue, no emotion at all. He didn't let Jayanna let out any words so instead he walked away from her and closed his bedroom door behind him.

Jayanna was literally left speechless. She didn't move from the position she was just in and she didn't know what to feel at the moment. Was it anger, confusion, love? Chris left her confused but also the greed of wanting more. Chris left her with so many questions that she alone couldn't answer herself. Chris kissed her and left her in the hallway where she was struggling to comprehend how the hell did this happen or did it even happen? Her mind still mixed with questions so she walked towards Chris's bedroom door and raised her fist ready to knock but she stopped herself. She turned around and walked towards her bedroom door and went inside, shutting the door and locking it.

~~☆☆~~

The next morning was rough for Jayanna. She struggled to wake up from the chime of her alarm clock and it just made it impossible for her to get up from bed. All of the feelings that she was feeling now were still mixed and it just felt like everything that happened last night was just merely a dream. However, those lips, that big hand grabbing ahold of her small one and never letting go while they connected their lips. It surely felt like a dream, but everything was just jumbled together and it was hard to process after the kiss. Jayanna managed to let those feelings behind for a while and sat up on and stretched her limbs for a few seconds before standing up and putting on her robe. Her hair in a messy bun and cheeks red, eyes halfway shut. What a morning it was. 

Jayanna brewed some fresh coffee and had her favorite mug ready to pour into. The mug that Chris got her last Christmas. She smiled at the cute mug while she poured herself some coffee but then her smile disappeared when she set eyes on Chris's mug that she got him for his birthday one year. She looked at the mug and the kettle in her hand. She felt hesitant in pouring him some coffee, so she left the kettle on the stovetop for him to serve himself. All of this felt weird. So was she supposed to stop doing the things that she was so used to doing? Like serving him his cup of coffee and leaving the seat next to her clear so he could sit next to her? How can a kiss change so much, and how can a simple reaction also mean so many things?

Jayanna sipped her coffee quietly and continued to go through her phone as a distraction, but from the looks of it it was not working. With every passing minute she expected the door of Chris's room to creak open and see him walk towards the kitchen. But of course that was just in her thoughts because Chris never showed up. This was unusual; Chris usually wakes up at 8AM to start getting ready to get to the harbor and start working on boats. Did he leave early or did he forget to set his alarm- again? Jayanna sipped the last of her coffee and washed her mug and set it on the drying rack. She quietly and slowly walked towards Chris's door and knocked softly as she didn't want to startle him. There was no answer, so she turned the doorknob and saw that he wasn't even in bed. He had left early.

~~☆☆~~

Only the sky and sun could make the mood feel… good. Jayanna walked to work as she passed some people near the harbor. Her smile was tucked away so what she was left with was a sad blank stare. She went the same path as she always took every morning. She spotted the child daycare and automatically switched her mood from sad to happy. Seeing the kids at the daycare were one of things that she loved about her job and playing along with them gave her the ability to relive her childhood. Once she steps into the daycare she sets her purse and light jacket in the clothing rack and she counts in her head. 1...2...and 3.

"Miss Jay, Miss Jay, Miss Jay!!" A holler of little kids exclaim as they see Jayanna's figure near the clothing racks.

"Hi little ones!" Jayanna returns the excitement. Her hands folded on her lap as she bends down a bit to get to the kids level. "How are my beautiful little ones?" She smiles as a little girl called Rosie comes closer to her.

"You look sad Miss Jay. Why?"

"Sad? No, no, no, sweetie. I'm not sad." Jayanna reasoned with the little girl. The girl smiling wider once Jayanna started smiling. 

Jayanna stood up and the kids started to run back to the playroom while Jayanna was left with those feelings once again. She shook off the feelings and looked down at her shoes and breathed in a deep breath and started to walk behind the kids heading towards the playroom to start her work.

~~☆☆~~

After working her daily shift at the daycare, Jayanna was now in the apartment. She was going to change from her clothes to her pajamas because she felt more comfortable. Her purse left on a chair and her light jacket hanging in the hall tree. Jayanna didn’t feel like doing much so she was about to heat up some leftover pasta that she and Chris made a couple nights ago. Speaking of Chris, Jayanna’s phone chimed signaling that she was just sent a text. She swipes up and notices the notification is from none other than Chris Evans himself. 

She opened the app and read the message carefully, but she didn’t really do that carefully as she thought. Chris has said that he was inviting her for dinner and that she should be ready by six. She had less than two hours to get ready she thought. Jayanna threw her phone as it landed on the couch; she ran towards her bedroom and retrieved her hair comb and started brushing down her curls that eventually ran away from the hair tie she used. She braided her hair and tied it with an elastic. She applied a single coat of mascara and chapstick that she smoothed over her natural pink lips. Little diamond studs adorned her ears and she kept the simple pendant that her mother gave her which was around her neck. A necklace that she religiously put on everyday. Jayanna went towards the hall tree and got her umbrella as the weather forecast mentioned that it was going to rain later, but it couldn’t be true because the sun was shining so bright right now behind the curtains. She took her purse and put her shoes back on and took a good look in the mirror and smiled at herself. This was it. She couldn’t believe that maybe today was the day. 

Jayanna was walking now with the umbrella at her side as she enjoyed the nice breeze and the rays of the setting sun. Her change of mood when she walked to work and back was bleak as if she was under the weather. But right now she felt happy and also confused. Why did Chris invite her for dinner if he obviously left early in the morning because he wanted to ignore her? Or why exactly did he invite her if they just kissed last night and he left her there in the hallway without letting her say what she wanted to say? Was he going to mention it to her during dinner or was this dinner just to remind her that they are only going to be just friends? She had no idea, but a part of her hoped that he wouldn’t say that.

As Jayanna reached the street that Chris gave her, she stood behind a bush with a smile on her face as she was going to continue walking towards the restaurant but she stopped herself and saw Chris and a woman standing close to each other as they waited outside probably to meet Jayanna before they went inside. Jayanna saw Chris’s expression chang from a smoulder to his face relaxing in thought. He had that twinkle in his blue eyes that made it seem as the whole world was right in front of him. Meaning that this woman that he was staring at lovingly was the only person there on Earth and who portrayed herself as his world. This was something that Jayanna never witnessed for herself. She has never seen someone else stare at her as if she was the only human on Earth living among with her lover. And though it was painful to see Chris with this other woman that she had no idea who she was, Jayanna felt dumb to actually think that Chris was inviting her to a dinner with just him and her at the dining table, but from what she can see; he wanted to have dinner with a woman that he was obviously in love with. Jayanna was just about to walk away from standing behind the bush, but she stayed there and saw that Chris was slowly and slowly leaning towards the woman. His face just inches from hers and Jayanna knew what was going to happen. Although from looking at the whole scene it only made sense of what she was currently thinking right now. Chris was going to lean forward and steal a kiss from a woman that looked so beautiful. She literally had lights bulging out of her body. Chris leaned forward even more and Jayanna could no longer look their way any longer. She turned around and thought of the worst and had the picture in her head and she wasn’t even looking towards them anymore. From watching the commotion she never realized that she has forgotten all about her umbrella and just now realized that her hair was wet from the pouring rain falling on her body. She never noticed that her umbrella fell from her hand, it was lying on the floor next to her feet as she let out a sigh. She picked up the umbrella and walked away from the little street, her left hand clutched to her heart as she was breathing harshly now and her eyes just beginning to well up with newborn tears. Why must she feel so betrayed right now? Maybe it wasn’t betrayal it was just sadness that she felt right now; thinking that Chris, a friend that she had the time to know more about during their time of being roommates for so long. But now, it just felt different. Jayanna was sure that she had a thing for Chris long ago, but she was unsure if it was real or if it was just in her head. Right now, at this very moment while walking past people she knew that those feelings weren’t just feelings of silliness, but they were genuine feelings that she felt towards him, feelings that she hoped that one day she would be able to show Chris; who she wanted to learn to love in a romantic way.

This was one of the worst days for Jayanna. Her tears have started to trace lines down her cheeks and the umbrella that was supposed to cover her was not doing its job. Her clothes were soaking wet and her hair started to frizz up. Her quiet sobs continued while she was back home. She wished that everything that happened today could magically disappear but she knew that was impossible. Everything that happened today was everything that she could think about and remember. In the morning not seeing Chris get up at the usual time he gets up and just minutes ago she almost witnessed Chris kiss another woman. 

She stepped inside the apartment and removed her wet clothes and put them in the washer. She got ready to take a shower and once she was done she went directly to her room and locked herself in. She went to sleep early wishing and praying that she could easily fall asleep and hoping that it gets rid of the pain that she was currently feeling. 

But as for Chris, he wished that Jayanna was there with him to accompany him. He was happy to see his childhood friend, Bonn, whom he had a crush on when he was young, but now seeing her here felt surreal. He didn't even know that she still lived in Boston, he always thought that she would move to Florida since it's what she always talked about. He had a masked smile. His features changed ever so slightly. If only Jayanna was here. But why would she be here? Sure, he did send her a text a couple of hours ago, but she never responded back. Chris had no idea why he was waiting here along with Bonn. A small part of him thought that maybe Jayanna did receive his text and was just too ecstatic to message him back or maybe she didn’t reply because she wanted to ignore him for what happened last night. He knew that it was a mistake and he knew the consequences that may follow after their kiss. They might stop being friends and one of them would have to move out of the apartment. He wished that he wasn’t so awkward around her, he wished that he could just tell her what he has been wanting to tell her for so long. It feels that those feelings may just be experienced by him and not her. 

Chris continued to listen to Bonn on what she was saying as the rain started to come down; thankfully they were both covered by the restaurant’s extended roof. He blurred her voice as much as he could because he was distracting himself by looking behind him and to the sides trying to see if he found Jayanna, but each time he looked he didn’t see her nearby. So he went back to looking at Bonn and listened to what she was talking about. His expression changed from alert to having a smile on his face in seconds. He knew she wasn’t going to come, so why show the emotion? Chris listened to Bonn and he found himself staring at a little piece of string that was in the back of her head, so he leaned forward as if he was going to kiss her, and he got the little piece of string out of Bonn’s hair. Easy as that, and he throws the piece of string in the trashcan next to him. Bonn thanks him and Chris motions his head towards the little restaurant, and they both enter together and have dinner.

~~☆☆~~

Why must love feel beautiful and yet it hurt so much? Is it even love if the person at first feels giggly inside and a couple seconds later they are filled with a storm in their souls? Jayanna knew exactly the feeling- if this is what love portrays itself. Beauty, yet pain. Jayanna was sound asleep, her breathing at a steady rate as the rain continued falling and falling down. The rain and the sunshine deliberately and coincidently expressed Jayanna’s mood through the day. Love was really like a rose. Beauty and happiness were the wonders of love, but the pain and tears were just the hardships of what love gives. They both wished that they could hold on, but from what happened today- shows that they are simply letting go of each other.