#potentialseries

[plussizeingenue-blog]

RomCom Recipe

Excited to have written a new story, this time with a preexisting fictional character. I have a lot of ideas for turning this into a series, so please let me know if there is any interest in this!

Also follow me on instagram @plussizeingenue, for writing snippets and prompts as I come up with them.

Pairings: disabled female reader x Bucky Barnes

Description: Reader has cerebral palsy and is invited by Tony Stark to come interview to work with the Avengers. But the reader ends up seeing Bucky every time she goes to the tower, and things...well....develop.

You remembered your first day in the Avengers tower, and the way everything smelled. It had that obsessively-cleaned smell mixed with that fresh, out-of-the-box anti-staleness that you couldn't quite describe, but that everyone universally understood. The place was taken care of. You had moved yourself up to the receptionist desk on the first floor, which was, unfortunately, nowhere near wheelchair height. You sighed, resigning yourself to be happy that there were several wheelchair enrances and exits in the tower, which was more than could be said for most places. "Hi, I have a meeting with Tony Stark?" The woman at the desk, a slender brunette woman with hair like a flight attendant, graciously stepped out from behind the counter to address you directly. "Ah, Miss Y/L/N, yes? Mr. Stark has been waiting for you." You had been your own kind of superhero up to this point. While your cerebral palsy affected a lot of the motor function in your legs, your upper half was pretty strong. You'd been out on the streets, in the car your brother had designed. It was the size of a Smart car, if not smaller, and tailored to work with your wheelchair. It gave you extra speed, and helped disguise the wheelchair in case you made any enemies. There was a full working computer, top of the line facial recognition software and police scanners. All the weapons were non-lethal as well, and there was a one-person seat behind yours in case you had to drop anyone off to the police. Plus, the top came down so you had the pleasure of personally punching bad guys when you could get close enough. Your brother was currently interning for Stark, and was the one who had brought your alter ego to his attention. "Mr. Stark, I think you'll like this guy. They're really efficient at research and ass-kicking, which are two very important things for a team of superheroes..." It had taken Stark time to decide to bring you in, mostly because he had lots of other potential new teammates. But, ultimately, you were the only one who presented something unique that no one else could offer. You were not jaded, like everyone else in the tower. You were happy, and thriving, and most importantly...you were kind. The flight attendant lady led you to an elevator that she rode on with you. You saw her daintily press the button for the penthouse, and you went up, up, up into the sky. "Mr.Stark has told me so much about you!" Flight attendant lady offered. "He says you're stronger than everyone else on the team." You smiled fondly to yourself. "I work hard, when I can. I'm humbled by his noticing me." When you finally reached the top, flight attendant lady stayed on the elevator and went straight back down to her post. You pushed the joystick on your chair forward, marvelling at the look of the place. Everything was red and sleek and modern. The room you ended up in first was a large common area, and in that area were two people: Bucky Barnes and Captain America. Cap was watching some old cartoons on the television, and laughing at them. You chuckled to yourself at the display. When you looked over at Bucky, he was sitting, curled up, reading. You felt a tightness in your chest as you looked at him. He was magnificent, with long, dark hair and a creased brow, indicative of his being lost in whatever story he was reading. You blushed when you realized you'd stared far too long, and cleared your throat to get their attention. Cap was the first one up. "Oh, hi there! Are you Y/N? We were waiting for you!" Steve put out a hand for you to shake, and you grasped it firmly. You smiled as he shook it. "Yes, I'm really excited to be here. I'm really excited to be given a proper chance." Steve nodded warmly. "Aboslutely. We're happy to have you. This is Bucky!" He turned towards Bucky, who had just approached. You turned your eyes to him and almost forgot to breathe as he extended a hand. Your shake was a bit weaker this time, but no less friendly. "Nice to meet you Bucky." you finally managed. He gave you a little smile. "You too, doll." "Steve clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. "Let me get you to your meeting with Tony, then. See you later, Bucky!" You were sad to leave Bucky, but followed Steve anyway. You didn't see Bucky's eyes trail after you.

The next time you arrived at the tower, it was for your first mission. You and Natasha were partnered together for a simple recon, as a sort of training mission to see how you worked. You glided into the common area, this time empty, and waited for Natasha to gedt you so you could be briefed. As you waited, you flipped on the television and channel surfed until you found a dumb romantic comedy. It happened to be one of your guilty pleasures to watch those types of movies. They made you hope for a happy ending of your own. "I love that one." came a voice from behind you. You whipped your head around to see Bucky there, in sweats and a t-shirt, looking very handsome. "Oh, uh...yeah, I watch them occasionally. Sometimes I'll even pay attention." Bucky laughed, and the sound was breathtaking. "I probably pay attention too much. I just like their...the way they're the same. You know what's going to happen." You nodded, turning your chair slightly so you could get a better glimpse of him. "Predicatability is the safest, most soothing thing in the world. It's like a drug." He took a seat next to you, on the end of one of the couches. "Have you seen this one before?" You shook your head. It was completely unfamiliar. "Well, this one's all about a woman who lost a child, and her husband leaves her, and she thinks she'll never be happy again. But that guy..." he pointed to the conventionally attractive man on the screen. "He changes her mind." "Seems like a heavy plot for a romcom." Bucky seemed confused. "Rom...com?" You giggled. "It's short for romantic comedy." His eyes widened in wonder. "Oh wow. Never heard that before. I'll have to add it to my list." You couldn't help yourself. "You have a list?" "Yeah..." he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "A list of stuff I missed. Being....away for so long." Just then Natasha came in. "Y/N! Sorry I'm late. We should get started." And so you left Bucky there once again, but this time you looked back and saw that he was doing the same thing. You had ventured in and out of the tower several times over the weeks, and every time you had bumped into Bucky somehow. Whether it was on your way to a briefing, in the common area, or grabbing a botle of water from the fridge, he would pop up somehow. Most times you were in a rush and could only say hi, but other times...Other times you would forget you had to be somewhere and you and Bucky would get lost in conversation, only for Wanda or Sam to find you, huge grin on their faces, and lead you back to what you had to do. But worse than those times were the times Bucky was in on the meetings. Then you had to struggle to focus, and not marvel at his adams' apple, or his hair or the way his eyes lit up. It was complete torture. As you were leaving the tower one Saturday, chatting with Wanda about your brothers' latest developments with your car and if you'd had any progress on picking a name for yourself, a hand tapped gently on your shoulder. Wanda was quicker to turn around, and she smiled knowingly at who she saw. You turned your head, and Bucky stepped into view. "I'll let you two talk..." she said, sauntering away. "Hi Bucky. Is anything wrong?" Not that something needed to be wrong for Bucky to talk to you. Right? He was totally your friend...You hoped... Bucky looked around, waiting for the leftover Avengers to disperse. When he appeared to feel comfortable, he looked you dead in the eye. His dark brown eyes were full of unidentified emotion. "Y/N..." he started. "I think you're a wonderful person." He took a step forward and grabbed one of your hands, stroking the back of it. You involuntarily tensed. While you lived a happy, fulfilling life, there were always those people who felt they needed to distance themselves from you because of your cerebral palsy. As if it was something that made you worth less. And you never let any of those people get to you, because the majority of the people in your life were nothing like that. But Bucky being one of those people? You didn't know if you could take that. "Buck-" "Please, Y.N...will you go out with me tonight? On a proper date?" You were so floored by the question you didn't have time to formulate a response. Bucky seemed to take your silence negatively, and began drawing away. You finally broke from your stupor and tightened your grip on Bucky's hand just as he was about to pull away. "I...wasn't expecting that. But I would love to go out with you. Truly." Bucky's smile was wide and you couldn't help but give him a big one back.

[hellbells101]

Fic: Who's your Daddy? (Stetopher 1)

Fic: Who's your Daddy? Pairing: Background Stetopher

For the Steternetwork and all the peeps on Chatzy

Rating: Mature 

Summary: So it has come to the attention of the Sheriff, Stiles just might have been telling the truth outside the Jungle. Still, when he finds out the potential person is ... Peter. He drags the wolf in for conversation in cuffs ... he might not like the answers he gets.

Inspired from this post on tumblr:

                                 &*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Who’s the Daddy? Peter Hale was wondering why he had even gone along with being arrested.

He was a motherfucking werewolf who was semi-reformed psychopath on a good day. Today was not a good day so why had he agreed to ‘come along’ for questioning?

  Oh yeah ... Stiles.

  He may or may not have an attachment to the boy. It was worth it ... especially for that thing he did with his tongue.  At least he was telling himself that right now. Peter was bored with just staring, “Why am I here?”

  The unspoken part of, you can’t keep me here, was left unsaid but could be felt in the room. Peter was mindful of the fact there was no deputy - just him and the Sheriff. He was being ever so polite allowing him the fiction that the handcuffs would keep him restrained.

  “You don’t know why?” The sheriff asked him.

  Peter just stared sardonically. His eyebrows were not as expressive as his nephews but he could still convey his feelings.

  “Are you sleeping with my son?” The Sheriff asked, straight to the point.

Peter didn’t sigh, or, say anything that could incriminate him. It wouldn’t matter anyway. The Sheriff would not secure a conviction against him. It seemed the lack of answer was frustrating him -The gun shoved in his face let him know that.

  Peter didn’t blink or back down, even with the gun in his face. The father was not as bad as the son - after all; Stiles had lit him on fire.  It said many things about him when he started to sleep with Stiles after Stiles had set fire to him. Well the simplest one whenever his nephew gave him a questioning look was to smirk and say, “Like recognises like, darling.”

  Now was not the time as he had to deal with a pissed off gun wielding father. Still, he had his pride so he didn’t blink or back down, even with the gun in his face.

  Peter was pretty sure that this was not a smart answer and yet with the provocation of a gun in his face and latent hostility he had towards the man - It was the only he would give.

“I’m not the only one having sex with Stiles.” Peter had to add in a sing-song voice. It was the right comment. Peter had never seen anyone as pale as the Sheriff and not be dead. “You cannot have a heart-attack. Stiles would be sad.” It was that simple. Peter did not care but he knew that Stiles would be sad and then he would not want to have fun and that would be a crying shame.  

  “What possible reason could you have for sleeping with my son?” Peter frowned, “What is that supposed to mean? ... I am not one of the inferior teenagers, I can recognise true beauty and your son is exquisite.”

  The Sheriff cocked his gun, he was looking at Peter in the most obtrusive way. It felt like the guy was looking into his soul. Peter was sure that he would pull the trigger - he just hoped it wasn’t the brain. It would be a bitch to heal.  

  “Who else?”

  Peter shrugged, “That is his story to tell ... not mine”

  The Sheriff slumped to the table, “Tell me.” “So you can threaten to shoot them as well. They won’t heal like I will.”

The Sheriff looked up, using his detective skills. He knew that the person is overage. They were probably in Stiles’ circle of friends or at least an acquaintance of one of them. They were actually human - So who could it be?

It came to him, “You and Chris!” Peter shrugged, they were all lost and a little bit broken by the supernatural. It might not be the healthiest thing but they were all happiest together - so why shouldn’t they have fun?

  “Stiles was lonely.”

  That did get a reaction, the Sheriff hissed, “So you thought you could seduce my underage son?” Peter chuckled, he hated to be the one to disabuse the Sheriff of his notion, “Stiles seduced Chris not the other way round.” The sheriff was wide-eyed, not really wanting the mental images that brought.  He couldn’t think about his son in that way. “You didn’t include yourself there, did you?” Peter quirked an eyebrow. He was self-aware and knew exactly what he was, “No it was mutual and I have never been into denying myself what I want.”

For Peter it was that simple. It was probably for the best that he did not tell the Sheriff about his favourite nights. Stiles would get into the mood where he wanted his ‘daddies’ and would walk into Peter’s living room wearing nothing but an open white shirt.  Peter and Chris never made him felt bad or teased him about it; in fact, it went straight to their cocks and they were more than happy to oblige their baby.

  Once Peter was done with this bullshit - Stiles better be in one of these moods.  He deserved a reward for not killing everyone in the station.