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buchananssmolbean · 4 years ago

Text

Wings

Chapter Three - Firsts and Feelings; Pains and Grievings

Word Count: 1423

Warnings: Sadness, arguments, minimal swearing, piercing of skin? lmk if i forgot anything

A/N: pls don’t copy or translate on this platform or any others. sorry this took so damn long lol.

Summary: There’s trouble at the Barnes/Rogers/Wilson residence…

1978

January 14

Hanoi

It had been a very long, gruelling mission. You hated Hanoi, mostly because you couldn't go out into the villages and towns. So far, you'd practically absorbed 2 cups of sugar cane juice, and sat on the unsteady hay roof of a little home.

"Y/N? Are you there?" Bucky spoke through the newly planted communication system in your ear.

"Yeah." you sighed.

You bored easily when there was nothing to do but stare at people much happier than yourself. Combine that with the blistering heat, and you've got yourself an irritable Y/N.

"Don't sound like that, Маленький."

"Why can't I come with you?"

"You know why, Маленький. Now, meet me by the bay."

2018

February 15

New York City

"Bucky?" you whispered into his ear, nudging the tip of your nose against his soft, long locks of chestnut brown hair. "Yes, Моя любовь?"

He watched a thin strand of hair fall from the crown of your head and down between your eyes.

"Why am I here?"

Sadness flashed before Bucky's eyes, a tinge of hurt in his soul. "Do you not like it here?"

"No, no; I love it—I guess I just thought that you forgot about me."

Guilt welled in Bucky's internals, sloshing around with whatever he had for dinner last night.

Never had Bucky forgotten about you. How could he?"

"Моя любовь, you know I couldn't do that."

"Y-You never... came back." your voice cracked, and Bucky urged more water down your throat—maybe in hopes of making up for a past lack of presence in your life.

"I know, I'm sorry, Маленький. I thought all of Hydra was gone, forever," Bucky's hand caressed the side of your face, cradling it just how you liked. "I thought—I thought you were—" He struggled. "Well, it doesn't matter. I have you back again now."

You quickly rubbed your cheek against his calloused hand, slightly less harsh than you'd remembered it being at Hydra.

"How about breakfast? Hmm, Y/N?"

"Oh-kay." You exaggerated the letters, almost individually. Though somewhere in the back of your head, you'd wondered what you would do in Bucky's position.

You were pulled to the dining bar, a little L-shaped nook in the corner of the apartment. Bucky opened the tinted fridge door, revealing a plethora of both healthy and unhealthy foods. "What are we thinkin', Y/N?"

"Um... food."

Over the years, you'd lost any type of pickiness that you could've had before. Pretty much anything went now—not that much went, with Hydra, and all.

So Bucky fumbled his way clumsily around the kitchen with whisks and forks, humming and whistling short, little 40's tunes.

Before you knew it, crêpes and spinach sat in front of you. Mm, you thought, delightful. Bending 45°, you took a light whiff of the French cuisine, eyes sparkling with what could almost be described as beaming excitement.

"Thank you." You waited, not quite sure if what for. Picking up the fork was an impossible task, despite the extreme want. So, why? Why couldn't you eat it?

"Eat, Soldat." Bucky chanted sadly.

No longer was there a restraint against the fork—in fact, your hand couldn't help but tug towards it.

"Thanks..." you mumbled.

"Sorry."

You nibbled away at your food until Sam and Steve ended up by the bar, both of them sitting on either side of you; as if one man beside you wasn't intimidating at all.

"Mornin'." Steve flashed a Captain America-type smile that Bucky hated when directed to you.

"Hello." you greeted both men at once, then looked to Bucky, who shrugged, and started on his own crêpe.

"Buck, I didn't know you could cook."

"Why don't you ever cook for us? Smells amazing."

Bucky rolled his eyes, sitting across from you and the boys, only looking into your eyes. "I only cook on special occasions."

You squirmed, blushed; anything, you name it. The boys noticed, deciding not to comment, for your sake and Bucky's. You were special for him.

"Can we have some?"

"No."

Sam huffed in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Come eat some more, Маленький." Bucky gestured to the plate in front of him.

•••

"They're really..."

"Close." Steve finished Sam's statement. "It's good. I think."

"Yeah, I guess. I just wonder if she'll hurt him."

"Please, I don't think that woman could hurt a fly." Steve snorted, almost admiring the scars on your back, where your wings would shoot out from. "Quite the tough cookie, huh?"

"It's not like she signed up for the program." Sam shrugged, tossing his paper towel into a garbage bin, like a basketball.

"Pow, pow! Three pointer!"

Apparently, to Sam, a victory dance was in order—an absolute necessity.

Your knees slung over Bucky's thighs, him holding yours gently, caressing the skin through your thin leggings.

"We should go shopping, Маленький. Get you some warmer clothing for the winter."

"Mm, okay." You agreed, because you were always agreeable when Bucky was the one who asked, that much certainly hadn't changed.

On the tele was a 90s sitcom, something with girls in short skirts, men in unflatteringly tight pants, and grandmas with gigantic afros.

"I can't believe tele is in colour now!" you whispered into Bucky's ear, though Steve could hear—serum running through his veins, much like you.

"Crazy, right?" His hands lightly massaged your tired shoulders.

That's when it happened.

The thing.

You weren't sure what to call it, actually, you didn't even know what it was. "FBI! GET ON THE GROUND!"

"Shit!" Sam yelled, pulling Steve under the counter with him. You stared, scared, confused, at Bucky, who only tugged you into his chest, then lifting the both of you from the couch. "I'm sorry to ask, Моя любовь..."

•••

You sat breathlessly beneath the tree's shade, panting relentlessly to increase oxygen flow. You couldn't see Bucky. So this is it, you thought, I've lost him again.

A mopey bag of bones, that's what you were as you walked on the trail, dented wing dragging on the dirt below. The sharp angle pierced the ending of the wing into your shoulder blade, but the pain was nothing compared to your emotional state.

"Y/N!" You heard a voice call, followed by a low whistle from above.

It should have been a relief, and it almost was, until you remembered that only yesterday had you been with a terrorist group. You ducked behind a bush.

"Y/N! It's Sam!" The voice called again.

Sam? Sam! Of course it was Sam! Bucky would surely send someone out to find you! You smiled quickly, accidentally snagged a finger on the rose bush that you were hidden behind.

"Sam!" you shouted, hands cupped around your lips.

It was a swift dive for Sam to get to you, meeting you on the dirt. "Come on—" he urged. —"we need to get somewhere safe. I'll explain there."

As Sam took off again, your wings miraculously took flight themselves, sharp wire bending into the skin coating your spine. "Fuck."

1978

January 14

Hanoi

"It's raining, Маленький."

You sat by the windowsill, still bored out of your mind. Sure, the accommodations were astonishing in the coupes up motel room, but you were busy thinking about all the things you could do.

"Let's get ready to sleep, Маленький."

You shook your head stubbornly, admiring to drops of water, matching pace, sliding down the glass window.

"Моя любовь." Bucky said more sternly.

"You don't let me do anything."

"Enough! Everything I do is to protect you! Why don't you understand that I need you! I need to keep you safe!"

You shuddered at the sheer volume of his voice, used to the calming nature of his tone.

"Моя любовь, I'm sorry. I just need you to understand that everything I do from now on is because of you. Everything I ask you to do is to make sure you survive."

You sat, back to Bucky while he explained himself, repeating "I'm sorry" over and over.

"You're selfish." you spat.

"Моя л—"

"I need you to survive too! I don't know what to do without you!" you cried, finally collapsing onto the springy shit mattress.

Bucky was listening. Bucky was understanding. Now he knew.

He knew that you would always save him, like he would you. He knew that you would protect you the best you could. And he knew that you cared; a feeling he'd deeply missed.

"Okay, Маленький. I understand. Let's head to bed."

#james bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky series #bucky barnes series #bucky x you #fluffy bucky

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siancore · 4 years ago

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Sian, how are you ?? I hope you had a great Christmas. Sian, I was thinking 🤔 Sam left his hometown, he left not only his family, but also some ex-boyfriends and Bucky doesn't know how to deal with it.

Thank you! I’m so sorry for getting to this so late. I got to eat a lot of food and drink Cuban rum, so yeah; I had a nice time hehehe I hope you did, too.

Now, I really like this premise. I like your thinking. Let’s flesh it out, but with Bucky figuring out how to deal with this new knowledge:

He’d been there for a week, even though Carter said the mission was time sensitive, but Barnes didn’t want to rush the time he was spending with Sam back in Sam’s hometown. It was relaxing, being there with him. Seeing how at ease he looked; how he had settled back into a slow and restful existence.

Barnes was well aware of everything Wilson could do on the battlefield. He had read his file. He had seen him in action. He had fought beside him a few times. He knew that Wilson was astute, skillful, and a little bit stubborn. He found that stubbornness to be part of his charm.

But here, under the soft glow of the overhead light in his sister’s house, nursing a glass of wine, and laughing easily, Wilson looked so peaceful he was damn near ethereal.

He was becoming a problem for Barnes.

Not a problem in the general sense of the word, but because with each passing moment, Bucky could feel himself falling harder for the other man.

Feeling attraction to Sam Wilson was not something that was difficult. He was obviously gorgeous. Bucky thought so the first time he had really seen him up close. His face was stern and focused. High cheekbones and pretty, brown eyes. But when he smiled? Yeah, Barnes’ knees might have gone weak and his heart might’ve beat a little faster, but that was no one’s business but his own.

Feeling affection for Sam Wilson was the easiest thing in the world. You just couldn’t help it. He was forthcoming about who he was and what he believed in. He was good and smart and honorable. He was a bit of an asshole and entirely too reckless for his own good. Yes. Feeling things for him was easy. Barnes had feelings for Wilson.

Yet, he knew it was probably one-sided; was probably never going to come to anything.

Probably.

Probably, because sometimes he would catch Sam stealing glances at him, followed by smiles so soft that they settled deep inside of Bucky’s chest. Locked away for him to replay again and again in his mind’s eye, in a private moment of pining.

Probably, because when Barnes was lost in thought, wearing a faraway look, Sam would come to him with a look of concern etched across his handsome face. He would place a sure hand to Bucky’s shoulder, squeezing gently, and asking him if he was okay.

Probably, because he would tease Bucky relentlessly. Tease and flirt with. He would smile and get close and bat his ridiculously long lashes at Barnes, causing the other man’s mouth to go dry and his palm to grow clammy.

Probably, because when they sat together in the warm afternoon sun, and the sunlight hit Sam’s face, causing him to glow and Bucky to stare, sometimes, Sam stared back. Sometimes, Sam’s eyes fell on Bucky’s lips the way Bucky’s gaze always found his.

Probably, because Barnes swore that when he was looking at Sam with such adoration, he was certain Wilson was mirroring the gesture.

Probably, not, his traitorous brain whispered. Because Sam probably wasn’t into guys like Bucky was.

He let out sigh.

“Bucky? You okay?” asked Sam, before taking another sip of his wine.

“Yeah, sorry. Just zoned out for a minute. What were you sayin’?”

“Sam-Sam was just talking about the worst thing about comin’ home,” said Sarah, with a wide smile that matched her brothers.

It was contagious. Bucky smiled, too, as he glanced at Sam and asked, “What was the worst thing, Sam? Seems like it’s pretty swell around these parts.”

“It is, and I love it, but it’s just that, as soon as I got back to town, all of the exes came out of the woodworks,” said Sam, somewhat coyly, as he sipped from his glass and glanced up at Bucky to gauge his reaction.

“Exes?” asked Bucky, not one hundred percent sure he knew what that term meant, even though he had an inkling.

“Yeah, people he used to go with,” Sarah explained. “They were here sniffin’ around for my big brother as soon as he hit town.”

She laughed and Sam’s face grew warm.

“Ladies man, eh?” said Bucky while sipping his beer and eyeing Sam.

“Not exactly,” said Sam, eyeing Barnes back. “Ex-boyfriends.”

“Oh,” said Bucky, raising his eyebrows and biting down on his lip to hold back a smile. “Awkward. I had a few o’ those in my time. But I can safely say all o’ my ex-boyfriends are long-gone on account of me bein’ put in and pulled out of an ice box for the better part of last century.”

A beat of silence pervaded as Sam and Bucky stared at one another. Neither wanting to look away. Sarah looked at each of them until they all burst out laughing.

“Damn, Barnes,” said Sam with a bright beam, as he leaned his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand. “You have a morbid ass sense of humor, you know that? That’s one of the things I like about you.”

Bucky put on his most charming grin, leaned back in his chair and said, “Well, I like everything about you, Wilson.”

Sarah cleared her throat, stood up and said, “Well, I’m just gonna leave the two of you alone. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” said Bucky amicably.

“Night, Sar-Bear,” said Sam, keeping his eyes on Barnes before adding, “So?”

“So, these ex-boyfriends,” Bucky started, as he leaned forward. “You not interested in ‘em anymore?”

“Nope,” said Sam, making the p really pop for emphasis.

God, he’s adorable, thought Barnes.

“Good, ‘cause I was thinkin’ that maybe I could take you out on the town,” said Bucky, as he instinctively licked his bottom lip. “Show you a good time. Does that interest you?”

Sam dipped his head, smiled, and then looked up at Bucky through his lashes, before saying, “Yeah, I’m very, very interested.”

A wide grin spread across Bucky’s handsome features as he let out an almost relieved little laugh.

“What you think all of these ex-boyfriends are gonna say when they see you out with me?” he teased, even though he wanted them to see Sam with him; even though he wanted everyone to know Sam was with him.

“Honestly,” Sam said, as he reached across the table and took hold of Bucky’s hand. “I don’t care what they say.”

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #winterfalcon

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anika-ann · 5 years ago

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For a Smile

Type: One-shot, Reader Insert Word count: 5400

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, OC x reader (brief)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Reader, OFC, OC

Summary: You see him run past every morning. So you smile, because he looks like a nice person. How could he not be when he smiles back and the world stops for a while to pay respect to such beauty?

And sometimes… sometimes this incredibly handsome man smiles first.

Warnings: mentions and hints of (psychically) abusive relaionship, suggestive themes, swearing, all the fluff in the world

A/N: I used to pass this guy near a café playing music every morning when I went to school and at some point, our eyes kinda met and we smiled at each other; then we did that every day. I kid you not, he’s got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. It’s not a Hollywood-star smile, no – it’s a guy-next-door smile, heart-warming, with his eyes simply shining. He’s like a kid on Christmas Day… I could ramble on. Anyway, just so you knew what brought this on.

○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○ ♥ ○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○

A smile costs less than electricity, and gives more light. (Scottish proverb)

Warm honey, sandstone and apricot orange melting into indigo, cerulean blue and stone-grey sky. Merigold playing with salmon and rose pink, teasing each other and making space to the warmer shades of orange.

You watched the beautiful colours of sunrise as you shifted your legs for a bit, causing the simple plank hanging on two tattered ropes sway, a smile tugging on your lips.

It was a little childish really, or it may appear so to anyone who would be passing by; but given what an early riser you were, just so you could watch this breath-taking game of colours, the little miracle of nature, no person could question you as you were dangling your feet off the old swing.

On your way to work, if the time allowed it, you would always make a stop on your favourite spot; a no-name park in upstate New York you were walking through every day, rather calm and drunks-free at the early hour.

Once upon a time, someone had placed a simple swing on one of the trees farther from the path. You sent a silent thank you every time you parked your behind there. You weren’t a monster; if a kid wanted to sit here, you would have gladly (...reluctantly) made space for them, but they seemed to always be more mesmerized by the playground with the actual swings, the chutes, the monkey bars and the sandpit. You couldn’t say you complained though, having the old-fashioned swing for yourself.

It was childish, perhaps; though your mother had once chosen that you should be going into accounting and so you had. Numbers and bills were things even adults hated, but that was what being old enough meant. You didn’t mind it too often, plunging into them for living, but… you needed to compensate, so you felt entitled.

Plus, the motion of the swing was soothing, as if magically transporting you back to your childhood indeed, with less worries, more ease and pure mind.

Yeah, sitting on the swing was your favouri-

Rapid staccato of feet hitting the ground in the distance, no doubt scaring off the birds chiming their morning songs, reached your ears and you had to admit you wouldn’t be completely honest with yourself if you said this was the favourite moment of your day only because of the aforementioned reasons.

There was one more.

It had strong long sweatpants-clad legs, broad shoulders in a sports t-shirt with seams crying for help, blond hair and-

Your heart melted along with your brain as your lips curled up in a genuine smile you sent in return.

-and the most beautiful smile in the whole universe.

You never spoke. Didn’t say hello. You never even nodded in mutual acknowledgement.

You just… smiled at each other.

And that was your favourite moment of the day crafted to perfection. A breath-taking sunrise, almost eclipsed by a mesmerizing display of the row of perfect white teeth framed by plush coral red lips and the twinkle in beautiful inviting eyes of a stranger.

You knew his name despite never exchanging a single word. Everyone knew his name. But Captain Rogers – Steven Grant Rogers – was a name that held no meaning. He didn’t know yours and probably never would; so strangers was who you were. A couple of strangers exchanging a smile every morning and lightening up (hopefully) each other’s day.

It always felt nice when you glanced at someone on the street, then just… somehow smiled and they smiled back, didn’t it? So what if you were an adult woman dealing with numbers for Stark Industries sitting on a swing and he was a deservedly treasured national icon?

It made no difference.

Just two people sharing a tiny piece of their day for a smile.

○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○ ♥ ○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○

“You’re insane,” your colleague stated dryly as she walked into the office at seven thirty, already finding you with an empty coffee cup, your fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Huh?” you raised your eyes from the screen on autopilot, not really paying attention.

You still noticed Harry rolling her eyes; it was just that distinctive.

“I said that you’re insane, you crazy-ass lark. My brain isn’t even awake yet. To be fair, I’m ninety percent sure I met Captain Handsome in the hall along with our boss, so it’s hard to tell if I’m dreaming or not, having a vision like that.”

“Captain Handsome?” you frowned, your mind racing, desperately trying to remember who was Harriet’s newest crush. ‘Captain Handsome’ could be literally anyone.

“Our resident Star-Spangled Man, you dummy. You’re low on caffeine. Or sleep. That’s what you get, getting up in such an ungodly hour…” she hummed, crossing her arms on her chest as she looked at you sceptically, a drop of disappointment in her eyes.

Oh. Oh! That made sense; if the man was with Tony Stark, the range of options narrowed significantly, especially since your friend had called him a captain. Except it didn’t make any sense at all.

“What was he doing here? I mean… since when is he wandering in our department? It’s all across the compound here from the training area.”

“Well, look who’s actually awake and bright-minded…” It was your turn to roll your eyes at your friend. “My point exactly. No clue, but lemme tell you – seeing that ass? Definitely made my day,” she threw over her shoulder as she stalked to the coffee machine and you couldn’t but chuckle at her bluntness.

Your stranger had an amazing smile, that was true. But your gaze did slide elsewhere on occasion too; which was why you would never try to disprove Harry’s claim.

“We might have the Ironman for a boss, but, girl… I’d like to know what Rogers’ ass is made of then,” she added and you burst into another fit of giggles, your face feeling hot all of sudden when your mind unhelpfully supplied with ‘vibranium’.

What would it feel like?

Yeah, you definitely needed to go back to your numbers before your impure thoughts got the best of you.

○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○ ♥ ○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○

The first time you two met outside the park, you were in a bar.

You hadn’t seen him for almost a month, assuming he went on a long-drawn mission; one that had ended well, clearly, since he was out drinking. Just eyeing his companions and instantly noting his body language, you could tell he was suffering. Like, not literally suffering, but it was very much obvious he was not feeling comfortable.

His eyes were drifting all over the place, as Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes laughed loudly, patting his shoulders while a hint or red dusted his cheeks, and then they fell on you.

His face was screaming ‘save me!’; yet, his smile was still as warm and kind as ever, an impossible spark within his irises, visible even from the distance. That twinkle was always the biggest mystery to you, because logically, no person could have eyes so bright, but here he was, proving your claim wrong.

Your lips spread in a smile automatically and encouraged by your second drink, you considered adding a small silly wave.

Before you could execute the decision, the result of your two last braincells arguing whether it would be more silly or sweet, an arm sneaked around your shoulders and your smile widened on instinct at the sensation. You turned your head to Cade and met his lips halfway to yours.

You had been dating for almost a month now and this inconspicuous guy from logistic of a giant company that was surprisingly not Stark Industries was a dream coming true. He was showering you with so much attention you weren’t sure he was real. Late-night conversations via phonecalls or texts, good morning, good night, kisses that lasted long enough for you to forget that you in fact needed oxygen, touches that set you on fire. He was easy to fall in love with.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout that got you smilin’ so wide, babe?” he whispered to your ear, grazing your earlobe with his teeth.

Gosh, you wanted him. The first sex hadn’t been so great, Cade chasing his own release, but hey, first times were always hard in a new relationship. The more were you excited about your second time and you were confident the second time would happen tonight.

“Nah, just smiling at strangers. You know that feeling, so nice, when you just toss a smile and they smile back?” your eyes found his, only to see him frown.

“I like it better when you smile for me, babe. What did some stranger do for you to deserve that?” he hummed discontentedly, pouting adorably as his hand slid lower to squeeze your hip possessively. It sent a spark through your body, a lightning striking right into your core.

“Just teasing you, Cade. I was thinking about how I lucked out,” you batted your eyelashes and a slow delicious smirk played with the corner of his mouth all of sudden, intensifying the heat inside of you.

“Wanna get out of here, pretty thing? Lemme show you how lucky you are?” he whispered, the pad of his thumb grazing your lower lip, pulling it down a fraction. “Or maybe… show me how much you think you lucked out, huh? How much you appreciate being mine?”

God, yes.

Judging by the glint in his eyes and the hungry kiss that lasted too short – but too long for such a public place – he didn’t need a verbal confirmation. He swung by the bar to pay for your drink and practically dragged you out of the rather crowded space. Your head was spinning a bit and you couldn’t tell whether it was excitement or alcohol. Either way, you really, really liked it.

○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○ ♥ ○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○

“You know that Cade was a dick right?” Harry noted nonchalantly while she handed you a cup of coffee and assessed (correctly) that you were sulking again, thinking back to that one particular night when you had noticed the first sign – or you would have if you hadn’t been such a goddamn idiotic goose of a woman, drunk on top of that.

You sighed and sipped your punishingly bitter dose of caffeine.

You were positively brooding and you didn’t care if it affected anyone else. The world apparently hated you and you couldn’t quite blame it.

Not even your precious strangers-exchanging-smile moments felt the same anymore. First, your stranger had started smiling less brightly after your encounter at the bar and then, even if it had changed, you wouldn’t be able to tell, because you were too wrapped in your own misery. Even the curve of his lips looked sad, which was a stupid thing to say, because he had no way of knowing about either Cade turning out to be an abuser-in-making or about you breaking things off with him and cracking your fragile heart in the process, while yelling at yourself mentally every morning and still longing for Cade’s arms around you since it always felt oh, oh so good to be held…

You recognized the signs early, but not soon enough. You let it escalate into him trying to control when you went out and with whom, him lashing out when you wouldn’t respond to his text in longer than five-minutes time, letting him yell at you when you missed his call… he loved you, after all, he just missed you and was afraid you were with someone else, and oh babe, come here, you can make it up to me…

Your sister had gone through something similar, for god’s sake. You should have noticed sooner. You should have known better. But no, you had allowed your body, your twat to be precise, to rule your brain and that had been stupid.

Cade had tried to get in touch several times after your break-up, even waiting in front of your apartment until you would go out once; you might have threatened him with a restraining order after that particular day and he had stopped quickly after that, only two of three attempts with a new e-mail address and number to get pass you blocking his previous ones.

Still. It made you miserable. And perhaps a bit self-hateful.

You deserved every bitter drop of Harry’s horrible coffee and more.

“I was being blind and stupid,” you opposed and returned to your figures, deciding your exchange was over. Figures were clear enough; they were easy to read and didn’t make your brain drunk on endorphins and other very specific hormones allowing you to act like a teenage girl, excited at her first boyfriend groping her. “Thanks for the coffee.”

A huff sounded above your head and suddenly your swivel chair was being yanked back and turned around, a pair of strict chocolate eyes boring into your soul with startling clarity. Harry’s fingers were wrapped around the armrests as she was leaning into your space.

You backed into your chair instinctively. She looked menacing.

“He was a charming bastard from what I heard and his type always knows how to manipulate people, letting them see what he wants them to see. It’s not your fault. You’re one badass of a woman, smart as hell for noticing before it escalated. You’re my hero. Mine and every other person’s who has ever been in or even heard of an abusive relationship. You can do better than him. It’s a funny coincidence they spelled his name wrong anyway.”

You blinked away your sudden tears, immensely grateful for her words that somehow wormed their way inside your very core (you blamed the intense stare that reminded of your mother’s when she was giving you the kind of talk that was too serious for you to handle) and yet you tilted your head in confusion, not understanding the meaning of her last statement.

“Huh? His… his name?” you stuttered, baffled.

Harry positioned your chair back to its place with a grin and went back to her own business.

“Clearly, they added an ‘E’ at the end. What a stupid typo…” she threw over her shoulder cheekily and when you caught up, understanding her point, you released the first honest laughter in what felt like a year.

○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○ ♥ ○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○

Your life had been set off to better course after that short conversation. You felt like you were healing every day, finding yourself lighter. Happier. Freer of the baggage Cade had tried to left you with. The sensation was indescribable and it radiated from you; some days more noticeably than others.

You found yourself indulging the blond stranger’s smiles once more, finally seeing the spark in his eyes again, the genuine curve of his lips warming your heart and starting off your day in the best way imaginable.

Naturally, life had a reliable means of showing you it could suck.

Right when you thought that you were fine, it delivered another blow; your favourite place in the world… ceased to exist.

Someone put the swing in the park down.

They just… erased it from existence.

Maybe they considered it dangerous. Maybe they were being dicks. Maybe they thought it was old and ugly. It didn’t quite matter.

You could weep, mourning your intimate inanimate friend.

You didn’t cry. But it was a damn close call as you shuffled towards the playground and eyed it sceptically. You knew it wouldn’t be the same and not just because the swings were in a plain sight, but they also looked too fancy, to actually child-like and— they weren’t your swing. Your sanctuary. Your private space. Your secret place you never told anyone about, not Cade or your previous boyfriends, not your family, not Harry or other friends, not to anyone.

You watched the sun rise on the horizon, ridiculously heavy feeling in your chest, ignorant to the rest of the world.

God, you hated Mondays. You already knew this week was about to be a disaster.

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“There’s a swing outside in the green area.”

“Huh?” you hummed distractedly, too deep into figures to register more than the sound of your friend’s voice. What was her name again? What was yours? What day was today? What was the time? Had you already had lunch? Had the lunch-time already passed…?

A chuckle followed by a to-be offended tone responded to your intelligent way of communicating.

“I’m starting to think ‘Huh’ is my name with how often you call me that,” Harry (aha!) remarked with a hint of sass, but repeated herself, because she knew she shouldn’t take it personal that you didn’t quite payed her any attention. You were a person who would get sucked into their own world, too focused on one task to acknowledge anything else. “A swing. In our compound park. It’s kinda cute, hidden from a plain sight though, a simple wooden thing.”

You slowly raised your eyes to hers, your pupils widening with surprise. Your pulse was roaring in your ears, your heartbeat no doubt shaking your whole frame.

Harry was telling you that there was… a swing. In the compound area. Hidden from everyone’s prying eyes, at least partly.

Why?

How?

You could only come up with one ridiculous theory which involved you, but that idea alone was laughable. Why would anyone do that for you? More importantly, how did anyone know-

“You think it’s an invitation for children? Like, is ‘bring your kids to work’ day happening any time soon? ‘cause, not to be rude and greedy, but one swing doesn’t seem like— hey!” Harry called after you, but you could barely hear her as you jumped to your feet, your heels be damned, and strode through the halls with zero regards to anyone in your way.

Not that there was a soul; people actually worked around here, too busy to wander the halls.

The thing was, that one theory about the swing didn’t just involve you. It involved one more person, but that person was a stranger to you and had no reason to even… acknowledge you. Besides the obvious part of your day that no longer existed – not in the way it used to. But the thought was simply laughable.

A different part of your brain raised a figurative sceptical eyebrow, argumenting that you had no better explanation for the phenomenon.

Because… you loved Harry. She knew about your traditional early morning watching the sunrise, but not about the swing. The swing was always a secret, no one knew, except… except one particular guy who always passed you on his morning run and exchanged a smile with you and just happened to work at the very same compound you did and technically had the power to pull the strings to make this happen.

With your heart hammering in your chest, you gasped for fresh air when you finally made it out of the building, your eyes searching for a calm spot, a tree in whose shades you could possibly find a prove of Harry not pulling your leg.

Your heart positively stopped when your eyes fell on the simple plank hanging on two ropes, indeed offering a safe space for anyone who decided to sit there in search for serenity.

You felt tears stinging in your eyes, your feet moving of their own will despite semi-high heels digging into the ground an inch with each step, bringing you closer to that little, yet breath-taking miracle. A chuckle escaped your lips when your trembling fingers brushed the grey ropes, more of your senses acknowledging that this was in fact happening.

Your hand followed the line of the rope, sliding to the plank, only to notice a rough sensation on your fingertips in the corner. A carving, you realized.

Tears of surprise actually welled up when you recognized they were initials. Your initials.

How-- how was that possible?

‘Sit down, you dummy!’ your consciousness cried out exasperatedly. ‘It’s clearly for you!’

“But why?” you asked it under your breath incredulously, thousands of questions ruminating, no answers on the horizon.

Regardless, you reluctantly lowered yourself, shocked when your feet dangled above the ground in precisely the same way they used to-- they used to in the park. It was even installed in the same height.

Reverently, you gave the swing a test-drive, just tiny motions of your feet to try it out.

It was perfect.

Your gaze fell on a sign on the tree trunk, small, subtle and harmonizing with the place without a fault.

Sanctuary of the kind ones. Do not disturb, it read.

You giggled breathlessly, lightheaded and with no care in the world.

That naturally changed when you spotted your very much expectant colleague in the distance, her arms crossed on her chest, figuratively tapping her foot and screaming questions without saying a single word.

The thing is, you thought, I have no idea how to answer.

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Perhaps it was naïve, a child-like trust and excitement, but the next day, you went to your new spot expecting to enjoy the sunrise there and not to be disturbed indeed.

You weren’t.

What you couldn’t quite prepare yourself for was the single daisy lying on the wood, starling you to no end. Hesitating all of sudden, you searched your surroundings, wondering if you interrupted someone else’s plan. Perhaps someone had the same initials as you and whoever made this happen had a different person in mind, doing it for them and the swing was just a funny coincidence.

But then in the middle of your mussing – on the swing, because, screw it, you might as well enjoy this since no one had kicked you out yet – a familiar figure ran past, gracing you with a beautiful smile, once again without a word and with a shy gaze falling to the ground after you met their eyes. With that, it… actually started to settle.

He had done this for you. For some incredible inexplicable reason… your smiling ‘stranger’ offered you a kindness of unseen measures.

And as if it wasn’t enough, you would find a different flower on the wood every day for the whole week. They weren’t even fancy flowers, which made it absolutely magical. Daisy. Tulip. Lilly. No red roses, only cute blossoms, matching the simplicity of the swing.

Harry was nearing the verge of insanity due to your goofy smiles and flowers in your hands; but you remained tight-lipped like an international spy during an interrogation, too afraid that if you said it out loud, sharing that ridiculous impression you were getting these days with anyone, your bubble would burst.

And surely enough, as if you jinxed it mentally, the next Wednesday, no flower waited for you.

It was ridiculous how your mood died instantly. It could have had hundreds of explanations including the one that he went for a mission, because he was Captain Freaking America, in case your stupid heart forgot, but nope, you would still feel the corners of your lips turn down.

You watched the shades of orange bleeding into blue and grey, lost in thought and with unsettling longing in your heart.

You suspected his steps sounded purposely loud when they came from behind you, where you wouldn’t expect them. You didn’t need to see the familiar Nikes on his feet to know it was him; you doubted anyone else would approach you, let alone at such early hour.

Yet you would lie saying your heart didn’t skip a beat when he stopped in his slow tracks by your side, steady feet next to your dangling ones, and you had his identity confirmed.

Your throat went dry and stiff, your voice dying before it could form.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he whispered reverently, not disturbing the peace of the indeed lovely scenery in front of you.

You didn’t dare to look away from the sunrise as your voice came out unfairly scratchy, a stark contrast to his deep and smooth one that felt like a caress on your skin.

“It is.”

Silence fell on your pair again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The birds sung their morning songs, waking up the world and you didn’t think words were needed. Except you owed him something, and you wanted to say it.

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from the painting by the most amazing artist, the nature itself, you casted a glance at him.

You didn’t realize you had never seen him still; duh, you did know that, but what didn’t quite click in your brain was that you would be able to see him in all his glory, soft smile and an absent gaze framed by long eyelashes, shadows casted all over his face and body, playing games which gave him a surprisingly ethereal aura for a man of his built.

Your stomach tied itself into a knot at the sight and the ‘thank you’ got once again stuck in your throat when his eyes turned to you as well, you breath stolen from your lungs, your lips parting uselessly and curling into a smile on instinct when his did.

Despite seeing the too startling sparkle up close, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the deep blue with a hint of green of his irises. It was just too captivating, locking you in a sweet cage you didn’t feel trapped in, but free and suddenly able to breathe in again.

“Thank you,” slipped from your lips unwittingly, shocking to your own ears.

The very same hint of scarlet you remembered from the infamous bar encounter dusted his cheeks, his smile softening as he turned a bashful gaze away, now fixated on the ground.

“Just wanted to see you smile again. Best part of my day,” he admitted, peeking at you from the insanely long and thick eyelashes and you could melt on spot, dizzying vertigo overcoming you at the sweet words. Good thing you were sitting.

You had no idea how to respond, your heartbeat thumping in your temples, your face feeling too hot and chest pleasantly warm at such admission. Your teeth went to chew on your lip and you abruptly stopped yourself. Bad, bad habit.

“Was… was that the only thing? Because the swing would be more than enough, let alone with my initials, and the flowers-“

“Maybe-“ he softly interrupted your lame attempt at flirting which had turned into a babble, but with same nerves coursing his voice unless your senses were playing tricks on you. A shiver ran down your spine at the realization that he might be as nervous as you were-- the strangest thing in the world, wouldn’t it be? “Maybe I could tell you… over a coffee?”

A daffodil entered your field of vision, happy, bright and yet somehow shy in his big hand and you didn’t think twice before accepting it, your fingers brushing his skin in the process only half-accidentally. Passing you the flower, he offered you a hand so he could assist you in standing up.

Ah, as if he knew your knees felt wobbly and uncooperating with the overwhelming turn of events.

You didn’t hesitate to accept that either. You had a hunch that the manners of a forties’ man would be offended if you didn’t anyway.

“Thank you. Again.”

The twinkle in his eyes shone brighter at your words, his smile widening.

“My pleasure.”

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“If I trip over something, I’ll bully you into carrying me everywhere for the next month,” you threatened in a joking manner as your boyfriend of one year led you through his apartment with his huge palm sprawled over your eyes, while his other gently rested on your lower back, making sure you maintained some balance.

“I wouldn’t complain about that. Are you serious? Because I just might let you trip then…” he teased back and you could hear the grin in his voice, mesmerized by the happy note in it. You would roll your eyes at him fondly, but he wouldn’t see it, so there was no point.

“Don’t you dare…”

“Okay, let’s stop now,” he whispered in your ear, his hand shifting to your hip to squeeze lightly, causing you to shiver. You and Steve had taken your time when it came to physical aspect of your relationship (past certain bases anyway), so a touch like that still sent a delicious electrifying feeling through your whole body.

As if you weren’t excited enough ever since the moment he had told you he had had a surprise for you.

Chewing on your lower lip, you followed his gentle instruction and stopped in your tracks.

“Should I be afraid?” you asked for the fourth time in the past five minutes.

“Terrified,” he confirmed in a joking manner. “You ready?”

Not waiting for your answer, he uncovered your eyes and with a deep inhale, you snapped them open.

Only for your breath to hitch at the sight in front of you.

“Oh my god... it’s beautiful!” you exclaimed, a surprised chuckle escaping past your lips.

In the corner of the living room, soft marigold pillows laid in a circular hammock chair coloured in the indigo of an early sunrise, practically begging for you to jump in and nestle there with a book and relax.

Instantly reminded of how you met Steve in the first place, you couldn’t but spun on your heels and threw your arms around him, strong arms eagerly welcoming you as his chest shook with hushed chuckle.

“Glad you like it,” he murmured, hiding his face in your hair, raising you from the floor effortlessly. “Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! Happy anniversary, Steve. This truly is amazing. I love it!”

“But not more than me?”

It was your turn to chuckle as you retreated, placing a kiss on his nose and earning a pout that simply had to be kissed away.

“No, Steve, not even this amazing hammock compares to you. I’ll show you exactly how much I love you in a sec, I just have to test it out,” you promised.

He released you with no protest and watched with a fond smile as you climbed in with a child-like excitement, the corners of his eyes twinkling. He slowly made his way to you as the hammock swung gently with your weight and you sent him a delighted grin as he sat on his heels in front of you, his hands landing on the edges so he had the control over the movements.

“What’s the verdict?” he pried softly and you opened your mouth to respond with enough enthusiasm to power the state of New York for a year; but he continued. ”Is it comfy enough for you to… make you consider- that maybe-- you could… stay here more often?”

Your breath hitched, your throat swelling when you got a pretty good idea of what he was asking from his serious gaze. Yet, you needed to make sure, butterflies in your stomach flipping their wings wildly as you leaned forward, invisible magnets pulling you towards him.

“And by ‘more often’ you mean-“

“All the time,” he whispered, his eyes roaming your face nervously, trying to spy a reaction, read the answer in your expression alone.

You chuckled incredulously, ecstatic at such proposition, and placed your palms to both sides of Steve’s face, grateful for his grip on the hammock and trusting him not to let you faceplant on him with how hazardous the kiss you gave him was.

Your eyelids fluttered close, but you felt his smile as his lips engaged in a tender dance with yours, one of his hands sneaking to the side of your neck to pull you closer, tilting your head as his tongue teased your lips to part.

How could you deny him anything even when you felt like you were about to fall face-down any second? He would be under you when you landed anyway. What more could you wish for-

“I love you,” he breathed to your mouth as he broke the kiss for one damned second that felt like eternity; one second in which you forgot to suck more air in even when given the opportunity. Who needed oxygen anyway? You could breathe Steve in and live blissfully, it was what you were trying to do for the past minute and it was glorious- “That’s a yes, right?”

A chuckle escaped you as you dodged another kiss, his lips landing in your hair instead, the hammock swaying hazardously. Mm, seemed like your supersoldier was too distracted to watch your balance.

“Yes. The hammock totally convinced me,” you teased him lightly, an idea striking you when you said those words. Climbing down as he was still sitting in front of you on his heels, you lowered yourself on him, nestling in his lap and leaning to his ear and sharing your not necessarily filthy thought in a breathless whisper. “But I think I still like sitting right here much better.”

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S.R. masterlist

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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart

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Thank you for reading :-*

P.S. - Keep smiling; at the people you love whenever you can, at strangers and at the person you see in the mirror :))

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #mcu #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #reader insert #fluff #one-shot #steve rogers oneshot #captain america oneshot #avengers #captain america #for a smile #anika ann

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simmonsofshield · 5 years ago

Text

Broken, Mended Chapter 2

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader (platonic)

Summary: After breaking off an engagement, Y/N may have possibly hit rock bottom. But she doesn’t have time to think about it because she gets deployed to Iraq. Leaving their daughter with her friend, Sam Wilson, she’s gone for a year. She doesn’t like talking about her ex-fiance and is unsure if she’ll ever be able to love again. What happens a certain Captain is his literal doppelganger?

Words: 1650+

Warnings: Lies, mentions of death

A/N: This is for @ussgallifreyfics 550 follower writing challenge! Takes place during Civil War.

tag list is open

A couple of weeks pass and Y/N is loving her time with Rosemary (and Sam too, of course). As the sun rises, Y/N rolls over and looks at the clock on the side table. 6:00 am. She wants to go back to sleep and the small body next to her breathing steadily makes it so inviting but she simply can’t. Once she’s awake, she’s awake. She gets out of bed and wanders around the small house, putting together that Sam was probably out on a morning run. She sleepily stalks out to the kitchen where she finds a note on the counter.

In New York. Will text later.

Well, that’s...weird. She puts the note aside and begins making breakfast. By the time it’s done, Rosemary is walking in.

“Smells good mommy.” she looks around, “Where’s Uncle Sam?”

She sets a plate with two pancakes on it in front of her daughter, “I’m not sure honey. Maybe he got called into work.” She definitely knew that wasn’t true, but was unsure of how to answer since she herself didn’t understand the note.

With Sam in New York, or wherever he was, Y/N and Ro had a nice day together. It was nice to relax and not have to worry about anything. It was days like this that Y/N was looking forward to while overseas.

Just getting home from dinner, her phone rings. A restricted number. Rosemary runs to the living room, while she hesitantly answers. “Hello?”

“Is this Y/N L/N?”

“Yes...”

“Johnny.” Her Commanding Officer. She lets out a breath of relief and smiles.

“Oh! I was worried when you came up as a restricted number. Do you need something?”

He chuckles. “I do actually. There’s a UN meeting in Vienna tomorrow. Would you be able to do some security detail?”

A confused look appears on her face. “Don’t the governments attending have people for that? And it’s way above my paygrade anyhow, isn’t it?”

“They do, but I was contacted this morning for recommendations from the Falcon missions. You were the first to come to mind. They want someone up above looking over everything. You would be compensated appropriately.”

“I appreciate the thought, but as you know, I have a daughter. I’d have to find a babysitter or someone to look after her while I’m gone. And I just got home. I don’t want to just up and leave her again.”

It’s silent for a moment while Johnny takes that in. “I understand. Unfortunately, this is an urgent matter, so take a little bit to think about it and get back to me. I need an answer in an hour.”

“Yes, sir.” And with that he hangs up.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N puts her phone back in her pocket and goes to find Rosemary. As expected, she’s laying on her stomach in front of the TV watching her favorite cartoon. Y/N sits on the couch and sighs, rubbing her forehead with her thumb and pointer finger.

Her daughter’s voice takes her out of her moment. “Mama, are you okay?”

She gives her a small smile, “Yeah, flower. Just thinkin’.”

She crawls onto her lap and gets cozy, “What about?”

She couldn’t help but smile at her 4 year old’s curiosity. “My Commanding Officer, my boss, just called me.”

“Do you have to go away again?” She’s smart too.

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to. I have a choice this time.”

“You should do it.”

The answer surprises her, “Are you sure, hun? I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone. Could be a few days, could be a month, or more.”

She nods matter-of-factly, “I can stay here with Sam. Ooh! Or with Hannah. She has a really big house, remember?”

Y/N cradles her daughter’s face, moving a strand of hair out of the way, “Sometimes I swear you’re 18. I will go if you’re okay with it.”

“I am, Mommy.”

Y/N nods, and sets Rosemary back on the ground, off her lap. She immediately takes her phone out again and texts Sam.

Y/N: Don’t know what the heck you’re doing in NEW YORK, but will you be able to watch Ro for a little bit? CO just called and I’m needed in Vienna for some UN meeting or something. Sam: Vienna? Cool! I can’t watch her though, sorry. Tony Stark wanted to talk to me. Y/N: Iron Man?! What the heck for? Sam: Not sure exactly. He seemed very interested in the Falcon suit. Y/N: How would he even know about that? You’re not making any sense. Sam: I don’t know. He is a tech genius. And has connections. Maybe he just found me. 🤷🏾‍♂️ Y/N: Looks like I’m not the only one with secrets, Mr. Cryptic.

Sending that message, she then calls Julie, Hannah’s mom who is more than happy to take Rosemary. After calling Johnny back, she packs a suitcase and helps Ro get packed and takes her to Hannah’s. Thanking Julie again, she kisses her daughter goodbye and heads to the airport.

Once again, Y/N falls asleep and wakes up on a plane. It’s getting old. Looking at the little screen on the back of the seat in front of her, she can see that they’re only mere minutes from landing. As she probably should have been able to tell by her ears and the change in air pressure.

Landing in Vienna, she gets her luggage and heads to the hotel next to where the meeting is being held and by the looks of it, all the upper floors (maybe even the whole hotel) has been reserved for everyone that is attending. There’s a lot of people dressed in black with earpieces standing outside of certain rooms.

Y/N finds her room and enters it, not even bothering to change and lays on top of the bed. She doesn’t even realize she’s almost asleep until a knock at her door startles her awake. She looks around, remembering that she’s in Vienna in a hotel. There’s another knock and she walks to the door to answer it. Outside is a hotel staff person with a big box on a luggage cart. On it is the Air Force insignia along with the word fragile on one side and handle with care on the other. The staffer looks at her, “Are you Miss Y/N L/N?”

“Yes.”

“Then this is for you.”

She smiles at him, taking the box, “Thank you.”

He leaves and she closes the door. Opening the box, she finds her assumption to be correct- inside it is the Falcon wings. Underneath them in the box however, are a couple extra things with a note. It reads, Just a little upgrade. -J

She pulls the first thing out and it’s a new tactical suit to go with the wings. It’s not like anything she’s seen before. She wonders who Johnny or the Air Force consulted to make this. It’s lighter than anything she’s ever worn, yet looks like it has better protection coverage. It has a holster on each thigh and one on the waist. For this job Y/N isn’t really sure why she would need that much firepower, but it’s nice nonetheless. Beside it was another smaller box, she assumed held the pistols for the holsters.

Waking up and looking at the clock, Y/N realizes she got more of a nap rather than sleep. Some sleep is better than none though. She takes a quick shower, puts her hair up in a tight bun, and gets dressed in the new suit. It’s snug, yet surprisingly comfortable, breathable. She puts on the wing pack and secures the guns. Along with them in the little box was an earpiece, presumably for keeping in contact with one or a few people on the ground. She heads up the hotel stairwell to the roof. She opens the wings and flies to a building across the way so she could see everyone and everything going on.

She sits at her perch and watches as all the news trucks line the street. As camera crews and anchors get themselves set up in front of the building, she brings her hand up to her ear. “If anyone is on this channel, can you contact law enforcement? There’s one truck down on the street that only one person has exited. They didn’t have any camera equipment. White ADS truck.”

There’s a little bit of crackling then a response, “Yes ma’am. We’ve been watching it down here too.”

Only a couple minutes pass before a K9 unit and another policeman approach the vehicle. The dog stands alert, which is never good. She releases her wings again and gets ready. The officer not holding the dog opens the back door and Y/N can tell, even from her high vantage point, that he’s scared. As he backs up, he’s definitely telling people to clear out and get as far back as possible. At this, she immediately jumps off the building and dives towards the ground.

It’s only but another few seconds later that whatever was in the van goes off. It sets off what she assumes is a chain reaction of explosives that goes up the building right to where the UN meeting is being held. The severity of the blast throws her back into the building that she was just on top of and through a window. She grunts at the impact but quickly recovers, flying to the meeting room.

Everyone of course is in a panic. A redhead has seemed to have taken charge, getting everyone out of the room and exiting the building. From what she can see, there was only one casualty, more probably on the ground. She approaches the body and the one holding it, instantly recognizing it at King T’Chaka of Wakanda and his son T’Challa.

She puts a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump slightly. “I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

He doesn’t say anything, only nods. As she begins to walk away she sees him take a ring off his father’s finger and hold it.

tags:

@cake-writes @supraveng @vxidnik @kallafrench @itsallyscorner @polarcrystall

#gallifreys500 #steve rodgers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson x reader #avengers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers series #captain america #captain america x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel ff #mcu ff #marvel #mcu

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ofstarsandvibranium · 6 years ago

Text

Best Friend’s Brother

Fandom: Marvel (College AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’ve been best friends with Rebecca Barnes ever since you were twelve. No you’re 22 and now you feel that after for so long, you might not be able to hold back your crush on Rebecca’s brother, Bucky.

A/N: Inspired by Victoria Justice’s song Best Friend’s Brother

“Y/N! Finally!” Rebecca pulled you into a tight embrace as soon as she opened the door. Summer break was upon you and that meant spending it entirely with the Barnes Family, which you didn’t mind one bit.

You and Rebecca Barnes have been best friends since you were twelve. Ever since then, you were the thickest thieves and George and Winifred Barnes considered you as another daughter to them.

Over the years as you grew in your friendship with Becca, your feelings for a certain someone, her brother, Bucky, grew as well.

You didn’t always have a crush on him. You always saw him as that overprotective older brother. It wasn’t until you got into high school, when he was a junior and you were a freshman, that you realized something. Your best friend’s brother was freaking cute!

But God, you would never be able to tell that to Becca. She’s probably disown you as her best friend! You’d be dropped like the meat jello that the cafeteria serves on Wednesdays!

Ever since you got into high school, you tried to act cool around him. Especially when Becca would leave you two alone for a moment.

Like now.

The three of you were gathered at the kitchen table, your respective textbooks and notes out doing homework. Becca excused herself for a moment to look in her room for some notes that she noticed she was missing.

That’s when Bucky looked up at you, “Hey.”

You looked up surprisingly, “H-Hey me?”

He chuckled, “Yeah. You see anyone else I could be sayin’ hey to?”

You ducked your head down shyly, “No. I guess not.”

Bucky softly laughed and then cleared his throat, “So, uh, how’s your first year of high school going?”

You shrugged, “It’s going. How ‘bout you? Soon enough you’re gonna be a senior. Gonna be varsity captain of the football team and everything.”

It was Bucky’s turn to duck his head shyly, “I don’t know about that, Y/N.”

“Bucky, c’mon! Last year you were a sophomore and made varsity! You’re co-captain this year which means you’re definitely gonna be captain next year! Everyone knows how amazing you are. I’ve seen you during your practices. You’re great!”

“You watch me during practice?”

You froze and began to fumble over your words, “I-I, well, kinda? I mean, I’m not just watching you. I’m watching the entire team too! Just to see how they’re playing and all that.”

“Oh. Yeah. That-That makes sense.”

“What does?” Becca asked as she stepped back into the kitchen.

You felt your cheeks heat up, feeling like you were caught doing something bad, “Just this problem! Your brother was helping me with it.”

You quickly glance towards Bucky and he nodded, “Yeah. Quadratic formulas are hard, am I right?” he quickly goes back to his own homework, mentally kicking himself for acting for freaking weird around you. While you yourself were doing the same thing and mentally cursing yourself for being so awkward with Bucky.

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You and Becca were hanging out in her room, talking and catching up with life. You two had gone to different colleges. You attended NYU while her and Bucky went to Fordham University. Sure, technically, you were thirty minutes away from each other, but with your school and work schedules, you never had much time to see each other. That’s why summers with the Barnes’ was always such a blessing.

You two were currently talking about the difficult classes you took, when your ears perked at the sound of yelling and hollering downstairs.

Becca rolled her eyes, “Looks like Buck and Steve are back from playing football with the guys. I’ll go tell ‘em to tone it down.”

You shook your head, stopping her, “It’s alright! I got it. I gotta refill my drink anyway.” you hopped off her bed and headed towards her door.

“If they give you a hard time, you have my permission to punch both of ‘em!” Becca hollers and receives a thumbs up from you.

You anxiously make your way downstairs, your empty cup in hand. In order to get to the kitchen, you have to pass the living room, which was wear Bucky and Steve were.

Steve’s back was to you and Bucky was facing you. You glanced his way, catching his eyes for a second and you look away. You don’t see how his entire face lights up, “Y/N!” he rushes up and heads towards you, “H-Hi! You-You look different than the last time I saw you. In a good way, I mean!”

You chuckled, “Thanks, Buck.”

“It’s good to see you.”

“So...whatcha doin’?”

“I was gonna get myself a drink. You want one?”

“I’ll just come with you!” you walk into the kitchen, him following closely behind. He watches as you pour yourself from orange juice and he chugs down 2/3 of a water bottle.

You snickered, “Thirsty much?”

He smirked and wiped the droplets of water from his mouth, “You could say that.”

His comment rubbed you the wrong way...or the right way because you felt your face heating up. You cleared your throat, “So...how’s the dating life?”

“Um...I don’t know. Haven’t really bothered dating anyone.”

“Oh? Yeah, um, school and work take up all my time. What about you? Any lucky guy or gal sweep you off your feet?”

“Not really. Well, there’s this guy that I’ve been liking for a long time now...but I doubt he’d ever give me a chance.”

Bucky placed a hand on your shoulder, “Sweetheart, he don’t deserve you if he doesn’t give you a chance.”

Meanwhile, while you and Bucky chat in the kitchen, Becca and Steve watch from around the corner, whispering to each other.

“i swear for the love of all things holy and unholy, if they don’t get on with it-”

“Maybe they just need a little nudge?”

Becca turned to her brother’s best friend, “What’re you thinkin’, Rogers?”

____________________________

Wednesday night and the Barnes’ household was bumping. People had red ups and beer bottles in hand, people lounged about talking and laughing, and drinking. It was an awesome way to start off summer break.

You nursed a cup of your own alcoholic beverage of choice, listening intently as one of Bucky’s friends and a former classmate of yours, Sam Wilson, told you a story about a prank he pulled on his bio professor.

“-Coulson was so confused! For months he was searching for that skeleton head and it was seriously above his head the entire time!”

You threw your head back as you laughed, “That’s too good, Sam.”

Becca came to towards you and Sam, waving around a bottle of tequila, “Who wants to play a gaaaaame?”

You both groaned, “What game. Bec?”

“Truth or dare,” she said proudly.

Bucky scoffed from the other side of the living room, “I didn’t know we were at a teenager party, Becca!”

She rolled her eyes, “Oh come on! Now that we’re all of drinking age, this game can be a lot more fun! Take a shot of tequila if you can’t tell the truth or do the dare! Simple as that! Now, who wants to play?” she looked at you epectantly

You sighed and slid off the couch and onto the floor, “Fiiiine.”

“Yay! Anyone else?”

“Why not?” Sam said and other people proceeded to follow suit. You looked up at Bucky, cocking a brow at him, silently asking if he was going to play. He took a swig from his beer bottle and playfully rolled his eyes as he walked over and sat beside you.

He leaned in whispering, “No good is gonna come from this.”

You shrugged, “Just enjoy a little bit of mischief, Buckaroo!”

Five rounds later, everyone is completely smashed. Everyone was relentless on their questions and dares. The only one who seemed totally fine was Steve.

“That’s because Steve is a fucking saint!” Bucky cried out, tossing an empty red cup at him, making everyone laugh.

Steve smirked, “Alright, Buck, your turn.”

“Aw fuck. I’m not looking for a painful hangover so I guess I’m doin’ this one,” he grunted, sitting up and awaiting his truth or dare.

“Truth or dare.”

“Dare. Gimme your best shot, Stevie.”

“I dare you to kiss the most beautiful girl in this circle right now.”

Everyone waited with bated breath as Bucky’s eyes looked around the circle of people. He had to make one of two choice: kiss any girl besides you in the circle, or kiss you like he’s been wanting to since high school.

It’s when you spoke up that Bucky made his decision, “Buck, you could just take the shot and-” your words were silenced as Bucky’s hands cupped your face and he pressed his lips against yours. People in the circle and the room hollered, while others glared, wishing that they were in your place.

Bucky pulled away, panting. Looking into your eyes, he breathed out, “Y/N, truth or dare.”

“Truth,” you breathed out, staring intensely into Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes.

“What are your feelings for me?”

You gulped. Should you tell him? Or should you lie? But could you really lie after that wonderful kiss?

“I...I love you, Bucky.”

“FINALLY!” you both jumped from the outburst. Steve and Becca stood up, giving each other a celebratory hug and high five.

“I’m so lost,” you mumbled.

Bucky nodded, “Me too.”

“We planned this!” Becca exclaimed, “Steve and I planned this so you two could confess your feelings for each other! I mean, I kinda wish we did this way back in high school ‘cause it would’ve saved us a lot of time and less pining and whining from your oblivious asses.”

“But,” Steve stepped in, “Nonetheless, we’re very happy that now both of your feelings are out in the open and you guys can finally be together like you always wanted.”

“We did good, Stevie!” Becca high fived Steve again and fist pumped into the air, “Now...GAME IS OVER! IT’S 2AM SO GET OUTTA MY HOUSE!”

People began to scramble to their feet and heading towards the door as Becca ad Steve shooed them all out, yelling at people to find their drivers or call an uber or whatever. Meanwhile, you and Bucky continued to sit next to each other, fingers now intertwined, and looking into each other’s eyes. A fondness and softness in each other’s.

“So...you wanna go on a date tomorrow?”

“If my hangover from this game doesn’t last until then, then sure.”

Bucky chuckled, “Well...these were the consequences of enjoying a little mischief, sweetheart.”

You shrugged, “I don’t regret it though.”

“Neither do I.”

You both leaned in for another kiss, but was rudely interrupted by two pillows hitting both of you, “Clean now, kiss later, lovebirds!” Becca yelled as Steve handed you garbage bags.

You chuckled, “To be continued?”

“My room?”

“I’ll see you there, Barnes,” you gave him a wink and then proceeded to pick up every empty cup and bottle you saw.

Looks like you hadn’t much to worry about. You were now dating your best friend’s brother.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #college au #au #marvel

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pennamepersona · 5 years ago

Text

Live With You

-All tags can be found on the ao3 post: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15546492 -

I had a dream the other night

About how we only get one life

“Never liked trains much, myself, too slow and the noise, honestly, it’s all so repetitive and sounds way faster than it is, which, salt getting rubbed in the wound, and that’s not even good seasoning!” Wade says, lounging on the top of a couch that isn’t his, in an apartment that isn’t his, in a building that his own apartment isn’t in, in a borough he also doesn’t live in. “And honestly, I should know, I’ve studied cuisine. Mostly by eating a lot of food, but all those impressive civilizations didn’t have to collapse due to idiotic european invaders who didn’t even appreciate most of the spices they were so eager to find in the first place!”

His rambling is only met with brief silence, and then a soft but fierce exclamation of “fuck!” and the sound of wood snapping.

“You aren’t still doing models, are you?” Wade asks, falling off the back of the couch and just barely landing without pain, then walking over to the kitchen table where he’s met with the sad sight of a former assassin glaring down at splinters of wood, the fingers of both hands covered in paint, which actually looks pretty cool on the metal one, admittedly. Still, though.

“Ain’t it gonna be hell getting the paint out of all those cracks?” Wade makes to pick up Bucky’s metal hand, pausing briefly right before contact is made, a pause so small that no one not trained in killing, in the necessity of awareness of each movement, no one who hasn’t lived through battle and war, would notice. Bucky doesn’t flinch, so Wade grabs his hand, flipping it over and gazing at the intricacy of all its parts.

“Y’know, I understand very little about this whole cool metal arm thing, mostly because I don’t care about this shit and this isn’t the kind of science that Spidey-pie usually goes on about, but it seems like getting paint in it would be bad.” He flicks at some of the dried paint on Bucky’s palm.

Bucky’s hand twitches, very slightly, and it seems to be a simple response to touch, but Wade looks at his face all the same. Bucky’s just looking right back at him, his expression almost entirely resignation with the smallest dash of amusement.

“Should I get a loofa?” Wade asks. “Or! I could do the maid thing, everybody loves that. I should have a spare costume - ”

“Steve will clean it later.” Bucky says, his whole being softening at the thought. Wade coos.

“Aw, precious,” He boops Bucky’s nose. “I’ll leave that for some good ol’ fashioned bonding time between you two smitten popsicles, then.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he looks more amused than annoyed, which is part of the reason Wade hangs out here in the first place.

“For real, though, dude,” Wade says, glancing meaningfully at the pile of broken, mostly painted wood. “Models? Not your style, I’m thinkin’.”

“Steve says it might help with focus,” Bucky says. “Keep my hands busy like I want, without guns.”

“Oh!” Wade cries, which does make Bucky wince, so he lowers his pitch. “You wanna clean guns, don’t you? Take ‘em apart, slip ‘em right back together, all that stuff?”

Bucky pauses, then nods. Wade smacks himself on the forehead, then pulls out a smaller handgun from his side and tosses it down onto the table.

“Don’t know why that didn’t click sooner, honestly,” He says, sliding into one of the chairs and putting his feet on the table. “Go on, it’s been a bit since I cleaned that one. Only brought it ‘cuz Peter-man said low-to-no weapons around the trauma patient, so I had to dig out my littlest babies. You’ve got stuff, right?”

Bucky stares down at the gun, unmoving.

“I shouldn’t.” He says. Wade waits, to see if he’ll elaborate, which doesn’t happen within twenty seconds, so Wade goes on assuming that it won’t happen at all.

“Eh, you’re more comfortable with a weapon in your hand,” He says, waving his own hand as he speaks. “It’s what calmed you down for ages, why stop that now? Not like you’re any more or less likely to kill somebody if you’ve got a gun in hand or just the hand, ya feel? Could murder in cold blood just the same with the hard metal you’ve always got on ya.”

Bucky still doesn’t move, but he does glance at Wade.

“What if I do kill someone with it?” He asks, voice sounding what Wade would classify as both curious and nervous.

“Well, you’ve got the perfect test run right here,” Wade says, gesturing to himself. “Can’t die, pal, you’re not gettin’ a control group like this just anywhere.”

Bucky nods, then, and picks up Wade’s gun.

Nothing at all happens for a brief, charged moment.

Then, Bucky stands up, sets the gun back on the table, and goes to one of the end tables in the living room area, pulls out a drawer, and comes back, carrying cleaning supplies for the weapon.

Wade smiles as Bucky starts to take his gun apart and clean it, allowing for a stretch of silence he thought would be much longer, but then another impossibility happens.

Bucky looks over at him expectantly, and Wade knows that he’s waiting for Wade to start talking again. He still doesn’t look annoyed, hasn’t since the first week or so that Wade knew him, and it’s this moment of two clearly traumatized killing machines comfortably contrasting that lets a tiny knot in Wade’s chest unravel.

“I was wondering, too, if you knew anything about anniversaries,” Wade says, leaning back in his chair, half the legs off the ground. “I’m pretty sure one of mine with my arachnid amore is coming up, and you seem the romantic type. Got any pointers for me, wintogreen?”

“A ring,” Bucky says, a small smile on his face that Wade knows to his bones is mocking.

“Alright, I’ll give, why a ring?” Wade says, narrowing his eyes.

“You talk about him so much, figured you’d be dying to get on down to the courthouse and make your sap nice and legal.” Bucky’s still smiling, and yeah, Wade’s positive that it’s mocking, matches the shithead’s tone perfectly.

“Oh, so now we’re taking cheap shots?” Wade asks, leaning back even further. “Nice to know you’re not even trying, pal.”

“Always used to give my friends shit,” Bucky shrugs. “Why stop now?”

Wade falls backwards with a shout, cracking the back of the chair beneath him, and damn, it’s gonna leave a very small and quickly gone bruise, but even a lasting one would’ve been made up for by Bucky’s laugh.

And I had the week that came from hell

And yes I know that you could tell

Clint’s on what could, very generously, be called sick leave.

He’s not actually off the clock (never is, as an Avenger, which is mildly annoying but so’s most of Clint’s life), but they aren’t sending him on long, high-stakes missions at the moment. He didn’t do anything wrong, didn’t slip up, but he’s been...tired, lately. The higher ups (sometimes he thinks of them as his handlers, but he never really likes thinking that, so he tries not to) have noticed that tiredness, the way it doesn’t affect his physical reactions, but does make him less overall energized during training, during missions, even during what’s basically off time where it’s just him and Nat sparring, which he normally enjoys, but lately…

Well. The last time he got tired like this, he got emotional during a mission. And the last time he got emotional during a mission, actually let himself get invested, he brought Nat in. And that turned out fine (great, actually, in a lot of ways, Clint thinks), but no one wants that to happen again. Well, no one who makes decisions. Clint doesn’t like decisions. He doesn’t love being told what to do, but it’s usually better than thinking about what he’s doing. But when he’s tired, like this, he thinks more, and when he thinks more, he starts looking at what he’s doing, and that just makes things so complicated. He’s been doing all of this too long to overthink it now.

But he’s human, wasn’t tortured or trained or brainwashed or whatever they want to call it, like Nat and Bucky were. Like Wade was, too, and he supposes that last tack on is some part of the reason he’s outside the window of Peter Parker and Wade Wilson’s living room, watching the Winter Soldier and Deadpool play MarioKart.

He’s been keeping an eye on Bucky, while he’s on leave, or whatever, because he might not be close with Cap, might not know Bucky personally, but he appreciates that Cap’s always been trying to do the right thing and that it broke him down a lot when he couldn’t find his best friend (and lover, Clint’s brain helpfully reminds him) and keep him safe. And right off that thought is that Bucky is important to Nat, so maybe he doesn’t actually know Bucky Barnes, but he knows that he’s a worthwhile guy if those two care about him so much. And Bucky’s, like, really traumatized, and Steve tries to give him space, but he worries a lot, talks to Nat about it sometimes, and Clint’s kind of bored now? So he covertly babysits the Winter Soldier.

Definitely not the weirdest thing he’s ever done, but it makes the top ten, which is impressive in a really hard to explain and probably fucked up way.

All of this to explain why he’s watching two guys play MarioKart. Because Deadpool has also been looking after Bucky, but instead of hiding and being, like, stealthy and not dealing with feelings, Wade Wilson just breaks into the apartment that Bucky shares with Steve and talks to him about literally anything in the world.

And it works.

Bucky’s calmer around Wade, more relaxed. He laughs, sometimes, which Clint knows happens with Steve, but not often. He pushes Wade around, doesn’t worry about where his arm is and where weapons are, because Wade does this thing where he just hands a super traumatized former assassin guns and tells him to clean them while Wade chatters on (mostly about Peter, which also makes Bucky kinda smile because it’s hard to hate a guy who’s that in love). Clint may not like thinking too much, but he knows two and two makes four, and that keeping guns away from someone who’s been used to holding them for going on a century isn’t gonna make him less twitchy, and having him get used to feeling them in his hand and not worrying about Suddenly Murder around a guy who literally can’t die is, actually, really fucking smart.

Which could maybe mean that Clint can stop stalking the Winter Soldier and let Deadpool be the cool babysitter. He’s in good hands (Nat would smack him if he said that, but Nat’s version of good hands probably doesn’t actually exist, and also Nat smacks him a lot anyway, so he just assumes it means he might be right and she doesn’t want to say it, which is fine) and Clint’s not actually helping.

But here’s the thing: Clint really wants to play MarioKart.

No one plays stupid games with him much, and he kind of misses it? It happens sometimes, usually when Thor’s around or he’s bribed Nat somehow, but he’s realizing suddenly that he could probably go up to Wade Wilson at almost any time and ask him to play dumb video games and Wade would totally say yes.

And maybe he wants that. To play dumb video games that mean nothing tangible with some fucked up, traumatized dudes who just wanna let loose and be morons for a while because everything just keeps happening all the time and Clint’s fucking tired, and he’d bet his favorite hoodie that Nat stole three years ago and he’s been trying to sneak back for just as long, that those two are too.

So Clint does a stupid thing without thinking and opens the window to goddamn Deadpool’s living room and slides in.

“Hey,” He says. “You guys got another controller?”

You got something I need

In this world full of people, there’s one killing me

“Cap, I get that you’re worried, but why would I know where he is?” Peter asks, fiddling with the door to the apartment, bags weighing down his arms and phone shoved between his ear and shoulder.

“I don’t know, Bucky said something about Wade the other day, so I thought he might know,” Steve says, sounding frustrated. “And it’s impossible to get ahold of him, so I called you.”

“Yeah, makes sense,” Peter sighs, kicking the door. “Wade! I know you’re home, you texted me like five minutes ago, open the door!”

The door opens, which is great because that means Peter can rush in and set down the grocery bags, but is also weird because Wade didn’t open it.

“Hey, Cap?” Peter says, shifting the phone so he’s holding it with his hand instead of his shoulder. “Found him. Don’t worry, he’s safe.”

He then hangs up before Steve can say anything else and stares at Bucky fucking Barnes, who opened the door to his apartment, where Peter lives, with his boyfriend, who is not Bucky fucking Barnes.

“Spider-babe!” Wade cries, leaping over their couch and crushing Peter in a hug, which he returns much more lightly, still really confused as to what the hell is going on.

“Hey, Peter,” Another voice calls, so Peter looks, and yeah, turns out life can get weirder, because Clint Barton is eating pizza on Peter’s couch.

“Alright,” Peter says. “What the hell?”

“Boy’s night.” Bucky says, which just leaves Peter more confused, so he pushes Wade back to look him in the eyes, and whoa, Wade’s not wearing his mask.

Wade always wears his mask around people. Not around Peter, thank god, and he’s worn Wade down to usually not wearing it to dinners with Aunt May, but that’s about it. There are two people in this apartment who are not Peter or Aunt May, and Peter just got home, so the logical step is that Wade’s been not wearing his mask for a while.

It’s so strange, seeing Wade’s perfectly happy face in their apartment when there’s more than just the two of them. Peter’s not complaining, just confused, but if whatever this is makes Wade more comfortable...well, he’s probably not going to object.

“Really, though,” He says. “What the hell’s going on, Wade?”

“Like he said,” Wade points over his shoulder to Bucky. “Boy’s night. We would’ve invited you, but it’s more like ‘Boys Who Have And Will Probably Continue To Kill People And Are Also Probably Traumatized Or Whatever’ night, so you didn’t quite fit the bill, sugar cheeks.”

“No to sugar cheeks,” Peter says, which makes Wade whine, and then he looks at Bucky. “Cap’s looking for you, dude, might wanna call him. Won’t force you, just thought you should know.”

Bucky’s quiet for a moment, then he nods and goes to grab a small tote bag from the living room and walks out the door with only a small wave to Wade and Clint and Peter’s pretty sure he saw at least one gun in that bag?

“Uh,” He says, squeaking a bit. “Did he have a gun?”

“Little bastard better give it back,” Wade mutters, folding himself against Peter’s back. “Don’t worry, though, baby, he’s just borrowing it. Helps him to get used to being himself again, not some coddled and half-dead trauma patient.”

“He’s right,” Clint says, popping up in front of Peter, mouth still full of pizza. “Thanks for the hospitality, man. Text me, Wade.”

And then Clint’s gone, too, though he leaves through the living room window.

“Um.” Peter says, still not totally sure what’s going on, but really not wanting to stop whatever it is, because he’s almost never seen Clint that comfortable and he’s definitely never seen Bucky express anything but discomfort, anxiety, and dissociative hatred.

“It’s like therapy, but better,” Wade says in his ear, sounding content in a way that Peter’s worked towards for years, and there’s a tiny little prick of what could be a desire for it to only be Peter that makes him this kind of happy, but Peter’s not even remotely interested in indulging that, so he turns around in Wade’s arms and leans against his boyfriend.

“Alright,” He says, simply, giving Wade a quick kiss. “Help me with the groceries.”

Wade does, and it’s a nice little moment of domesticity. It’s probably the unexpected shock to this part of his routine that’s making Peter think, but when he does think for a minute, he realizes that he’s really happy.

He lives with his boyfriend, who is also his best friend, he’s got a Master’s Degree and is considering taking the plunge for his Doctorate, he does freelance science work and research that brings him more joy than he ever thought any job could, he has dinner with his aunt every other weekend, and he’s really, indescribably happy.

He turns to Wade once they’ve finished putting away the groceries and kisses him again, soft and firm.

“I love you,” Peter says, looking right at Wade’s eyes, right into the still-warm contentment there. “A lot. More than I ever knew I was capable of. I’m so happy, Wade, and so much of it is thanks to you.”

He can see Wade’s eyes getting a bit shiny, and when he leans in to kiss him again, Wade’s already meeting him halfway.

“Love you too, Peter.”

And if we only die once

I wanna die with you

It’s strange, Bucky thinks, dropping a shell and slamming into Clint’s kart in a quick maneuver that has both Clint and Wade shouting, to be feeling like this.

He can hear Steve in the kitchen, talking with Natalia about weapons safety for their apartment, can feel Wade’s knee brushing against his leg and Clint’s foot on his shoulder because Clint’s somehow ended up sprawled nearly vertical on the couch and mostly upside down, can see out of the corner of his eye Peter leaning against Wade’s side as he types on his laptop and absently chews on something he has on a necklace.

He knows where all these people are, knows who they are, knows what they’d do if he asked for anything. Knows that, even though this place isn’t his, is Wade and Peter’s, that he’s safe. Knows that he can trust these people with his life, if he needs to, could even trust them with Steve’s.

He crosses the finish line and Wade throws his arms up in the air and Clint groans about how Bucky always plays dirty and he can hear Steve laugh from the kitchen and it’s strange, to be sure, for Bucky to feel like this.

But as he stands up to go get another box of pizza from the kitchen, brushes against Steve as he does, feeling the casual warmth that always comes as Steve loosely pulls him in for a short embrace, a soft press of lips against his own, he also thinks that he wouldn’t mind doing this long enough for it not to be strange.

Clint’s lifting himself onto the table the pizzas are on, sitting cross-legged in front of Natalia and picking each individual mushroom off his pizza and tossing them at her to see if she’ll catch them in her mouth or her hand, and Bucky can see his lack of tension mirrored very directly in her.

Bucky looks back into the living room, Steve’s arm around him, and watches as Wade gently nudges Peter back into awareness and hands him a glass of water that is actually flat sprite, which makes Peter choke slightly and punch Wade’s arm, seeing so easily into the domestic teasing and care that seems to always run so fully through Peter and Wade.

It’s strange, to be so okay, so unworried, but Bucky thinks he likes getting used to it. He leans into Steve, and when his guy drops a kiss onto his head and laughs at Natalia tossing a mushroom back at Clint and hitting him almost perfectly in the middle of his forehead, Bucky smiles and gives himself to permission to do what he’s been trying to do for a while: be happy.

If we only live once

I wanna live with you

#my-writing #spideypool #stucky #marvel fanfiction #peter parker/wade wilson #steve rogers/bucky barnes #writing commissions

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tonystarkbingo · 6 years ago

Photo

Week 16 Roundup! We have a LOT of awesome stuff this week, due in part to our monthly Discord party! Keep reading to see what our participants created! (A few Endgame spoilers as well, proceed with caution)

Title: Not as Expected Collaborator: Magi_Silverwolf Link: AO3 Square Filled: T1 - Sam Wilson / Falcon Ship: none Rating: Teen Major Tags: major character death, not Team Cap friendly, consequences Summary: For some reason, Sam Wilson didn't expect to be arrested for his crimes. Even if the thought had occurred to him, he expected that the excuse of helping Captain America would be enough to get him out of any trouble. This wasn't what he expected. Word Count: 1205

Title: Late Night at the Stark Residence Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Link: AO3 Square Filled: K3 - dark Ship: Pepperony, Tony & Morgan Rating: Gen Major Tags: Endgame spoilers, fluff, light angst Summary: A snapshot look at one night in the life of the Stark-Potts family during the "Five Years Later" time jump in Endgame, featuring Morgan sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night and lots of soft dad Tony Stark. Word Count: 3500

Title: Can't Stop Us RoboDads - Chapter 7: I'm Always Gonna Be Here For You Collaborators: rebelmeg, summerpipedream Link: AO3 Square Filled for summerpipedream: A1 - image of JARVIS Ship: MIT Bros Rating: Teen Major Tags: MIT era, bot children, fluff, mild angst Summary: JARVIS is born, Afghanistan happens, and Rhodey reminds Tony of what he needs to hear. Word Count: 1639

Title: Indenture Collaborators: 27dragons, tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled for tisfan: K5 - Kink: Virgin Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content, gladiators, master & servant Summary: See the galaxy on a two year work-contract. Well, Tony Stark figures, can’t be worse than home. When he ends up on Sakaar, in the hands of a gladiatorial team, it might be his mechanical skills they’re interested in… or it might be his virginity. Word Count: 14,588

Title: Red Dust Collaborator: HogwartsToAlexandria Link: AO3 Square Filled: S3 - shared trauma Ship: IronStrange Rating: Teen Major Tags: Supreme family, angst, trauma, panic attacks, emotional hurt/comfort, nightmares Summary: Even as he knows the Snap’s been reversed, that his son is safe and sound in his very own bed and his husband is lying right next to him, Tony can’t seem to make himself let go - every night brings him right back to this one day he’ll never be able to forget, none of them will. Word Count: 803

Title: The Most Powerful (Pillowfight) Collaborator: wakandan_wardog Link: AO3 Square Filled: T2 - A Battle / Fight / Confrontation Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: not Endgame compliant, team as family, fluff Summary: In which Carol and Tony (aggressively) support each other and then do battle (with pillows) for their honor. Or each other's honor? It's unclear, things got out of control. (James Rhodes loves these idiots way too much.) Word Count: 1905

Title: Enjoy the Ride Collaborator: mortenavida Link: AO3 Square Filled: A3 - free square Ship: Bruce/Clint/Bucky/Steve/Natasha/Tony/Thor Rating: Teen Major Tags: Soulmate AU, non-traditional A/B/O Summary: Alphas are born with a smudge of "ink" on them that will, as they age, form into their soulmates name. Betas are free of marks. Omegas are born with symbols that represent their Alpha. Much to Howard's displeasure, Tony Stark was born with not one, but six solid symbols across his skin. Tony grew up being told that Howard had tattooed them on his skin so no one could take advantage of it. It takes a weekend to realize how very, very wrong that was. Word Count: 2294

Title: When You Fall Collaborator: AoifeLaufeyson Link: AO3 Square Filled: S1 - KINK: BDSM Ship: Stony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content, BDSM, bad BDSM etiquette, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending Summary: Steve makes a mistake and he and Tony have a way to go before they recover from it. Characters, relationships, and tags will updated as the story moves along. See end for more spoilery notes. Word Count: 3372

Title: Professional Relationship Collaborator: katling Link: AO3 Square Filled: A4 - Picture from the comics of Tony Stark and Janet Van Dyne kissing Ship: Tony/Janet Rating: Teen Major Tags: not Steve friendly, conglomeration of Marvel universes, Team Tony Summary: Steve catches up on the latest news from the New Avengers and he doesn't like what he sees. Word Count: 1141

Collaborator: Trashcanakin Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K3 - Old Team Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: retired Avengers, moodboard Summary: Years after the Avengers retired, handin’ off their mantles to a newer set of young heroes; our favourite OG6 decide t'take a trip. They’ve all moved on since then, have their own families, own homes, are livin’ a happy retirement. But every year on the same date, they all get together an’ take a trip to a new place! What better way t'see the world they all helped save than travel. Everyone is happy an’ nobody dies! :‘V

Title: But(t)… But(t)… But(t)… Collaborator: katling Link: AO3 Square Filled: T5 - identity porn Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: secret identity, not Team Cap friendly, not Steve friendly Summary: No one knows who Iron Man is, other than the bodyguard of the Avengers' main benefactor, Tony Stark. Bucky figures out the secret but not quite in the way you might think. Word Count: 1984

Collaborator: Trashcanakin Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S3 - royalty Ship: WinterIron Rating: none Major Tags: moodboard Summary: After King Howard an’ Queen Maria’s sudden death, Tony is forced to become King. Obadiah Stane, the Hand of the King tries his best to counsel King Stark an’ keep him safe; yet he seems to have disaster after disaster. After an’ attempt on Tony’s life that was nearly successful, High Knight James Rhodes, the Commander of the Army, sends a letter searchin’ for aide. Knight Bucky is sent to help an’ is placed as the King’s bodyguard. Obadiah continues to try an’ kill the King, but with his new guard, it is harder an’ harder. Decidin’ to get rid of Bucky first, he sets out for his plan. Durin’ the ambush, Bucky discovers that it’s Obie commitin’ treason against the King, but ends up bein’ beaten, losin’ his arm in the process. Thinkin’ Bucky dead, Obie heads back to the kingdom. However, miraculously, Bucky doesn’t die. Rhodey finds him while out on patrol, an’ Obie’s evil schemes are foiled. They apprehend Obie an’ King Stark commands he be killed for his crimes.Bucky survives, an’ Tony builds him an arm. He was always a mechanic, never wanted to be King, but he was also a skilled alchemist. Everyone is amazed. Tony & Bucky live happily ever after. Goodbye 😂

Collaborator: strangemischief Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S2 - Shared Trauma Ship: IronStrange Rating: Gen Major Tags: moodboard, grief/mourning Summary: Supreme Family Infinity War moodboard

Title: Some Like it Hot Collaborator: 27dragons Link: AO3 Square Filled: A5 - KINK: wax play Ship: WinterIron Rating: Mature Major Tags: light BSDM, mild sexual content Summary: Bucky doesn’t like the cold, but that’s okay. Tony likes making things hot for him instead. Word Count: 1483

Collaborator: Trashcanakin Link: Tumblr Square Filled: T4 - De-Aged!Tony Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: art, de-aged Tony Summary: “Aw, look Buck, he still likes you even when he’s small!” “Ya better fix this, Steve.” — In which Bucky is angry that his boyfriend got de-aged an’ Steve makes fun’ve ‘im for it like a good bro 😂

Title: Rest Easy Collaborator: ethereal-lullabies Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S2 - Afterlife - Ascension Ship: IronPanther Rating: Teen Major Tags: Character death, Avengers Endgame pictures used Summary: After a long life together filled with a happy marriage and many children, Tony and T’Challa pass away together in their sleep.

Title: The Pursuit of Pleasure Collaborator: buying_the_space_farm Link: AO3 Square Filled: K4 - hedonism Ship: FrostIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: pre-IM1, magic Summary: Tony just wants to know who the stranger that he keeps noticing is. Word Count: 1736

Collaborator: Trashcanakin Link: Tumblr Square Filled: T5 - Arena Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: moodboard Summary: AU: Bucky goes missin’ durin’ a mission gone wrong, everyone assumes he’s dead, but Steve looks for him for a year until his higher ups make him stop. Devistated that his brother is actually gone, he goes hard into his work, where he meets Tony Stark, a skilled mechanic & inventor, & fellow agent. They don’t get along well, but they work well together. 5 years later, Steve & Tony get paired up for a mission, they end up gettin’ kidnapped by a strange evil orginization. Taken to a remote place in the desert, where an honest to god colleseum is set up, they’re told they hafta fight for their freedom; that they must defeat their champion. This orginization mostly jus’ wanted them dead, but wanted to give agood show to their followers. They had no doubts that their genetically enhanced champion would win. They’ve experimented on him countless times to make him the best, after all. Dressed up in medieval garb an’ handed swords an’ weaponry, they’re shoved through the gates into the ring. They start to fight, but everythin’ changes when they discover that their champion is actually Bucky.

Title: You Need to Put Those Back Collaborator: singingwithoutwords Link: AO3 Square Filled: K3 - AU: angels/demons Ship: IronHusbands Rating: Teen Major Tags: supernatural elements Summary: Tony finds a couple spooky silver chalices in a cabin and, like the dumb white boy he is, decides they're his new favorite wineglasses. It goes about how you'd expect, but not nearly as bad as it could have. Word Count: 1917

Collaborator: Trashcanakin Link: Tumblr Square Filled: A4 - [Picture] Tony in Captain America uniform, from comics. Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: Cap!Tony art

Title: Now and Later Collaborator: MadStarker Square: K1 - Kink - Rushed Sex Rating: Explicit Pairing: Tony Stark / Peter Parker Warnings: First Time, Love Confessions, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Porn with Feelings, Anal Sex, Armor Kink, Blow Jobs, Multiple Orgasms, Dirty Talk, Barebacking Summary: Tony's so relieved to have Peter back that he just takes him right there on the battlefield behind a pile of junk Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18917116

Title: the dreamland, amber and gold Collaborator: deathsweetqueen Link: AO3 Square Filled: T3 - tony in workshop Ship: ThunderIron Rating: Mature Major Tags: sexual content, Asgardian Tony, Thor AU Summary: “Anthony?” Anthony looks up from the sword he was cleaning painstakingly. “What?” he demands. Thor stands in the doorway to his forge, hip cocked outwards, cape red as blood glinting in the low light, as his large arms fold across his chest, running a thumb over his lower lip. His eyes pass over Anthony’s bare chest, dark beneath his pale eyelashes. Anthony bites back a sigh; he gives the sword a mournful look – it is very unlikely that he will be able to return to his work that night. “I have missed you, my love.” Word Count: 9524

Title: The Great Body Shop Collaborator: JacarandaBanyan Link: AO3 Square Filled: T2 - Worst case scenario Ship: Tony & JARVIS, WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: Tony angst, JARVIS gets a body Summary: Tony asks Jarvis what he wants for his birthday, and for once Jarvis asks something of Tony that Tony isn't sure he should give. Word Count: 2025

Title: You're Making the Typical Me Break My Typical Rules - Chapter One Collaborator: martianwahtney Link: AO3 Square Filled: R1 - Bucky Barnes / Winter Soldier Ship: WinterIronHawk Rating: Gen Major Tags: Fem!Tony, Clint is an asshole, soulmates, no powers AU Summary: Toni Stark knew she and James Barnes were soulmates the moment she saw him. The electric blue lines of the arc reactor seemed to glow against his skin, just like hers did. But she kept her mouth shut and she made him a new arm and even engraved his old soulmarks onto his new metal arm. James Barnes knew he and Toni were soulmates nearly a year after they met. She’d been neck deep in one of her car engines and it was impossible to miss the red star on her arm- his star on her arm. Clint Barton knew he, Toni Stark, and James Barnes were soulmates the second Toni had flipped over her arm to show him a purple arrow that stretched from the crease of her elbow to the palm of her hand. The same arrow he had been born with. Alternatively, where Toni tries until she doesn’t, where James keeps his distance until he doesn’t, and Clint won’t let himself fall until he does. Word Count: 5997

#tonystarkbingo #tonystarkbingo2019 #weekly roundup #week 16 #week 16 roundup #endgame spoilers

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dungeonsanddragonsfifthedition · 6 years ago

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tazchat: Lucretia Was Right

MAGNUS: let’s go lesbians let’s go LETS GO LESBIANS LETS GO here we go lesbians.. here we go lesbians C'mon! LET’S GO LESBIANS!! oh my god lesbians…. oh my god lesbians- move outta my way ROUNDING THE MOON WITH A BUNCH OF LESBIANS HERE WE ARE CAN YOU HANDLE IT?!

have you been paying attention?

i went into this ep originally just straight up dreading the canonization of the lup theory and. look at me now, Gay For Lup

now, it’s dos lonely boys.

“my god, i’m so—i’m so sorry—“

“she speaks eight languages!”

genuinely happy to see you, anxious about the Fate Of The World. she’s heartbroken about magnus.

“a memorial service for maggie.”

“I’M NOT LAUGHING IN GAME!!!!” justin says in TEARS

“our good friend, magnus.”

“ah, barry, what a douche.”

She Was Eighteen!!!! EIGHTEEN!!! That’s My Age!!!!!!!! i’m not gonna fuckin make a decision in the trolley problem now!!!!!

“...barold?”

“you have veered off sentence, and are hurtling toward paragraph, my man,” jeez i love that! good words justin

“i feel like i trust you.”

magnus just gettin his bangles

sorry i was thinkin about the various deaths of the boys and i remembered that merle’s final death count after her (naturally) passes will be 69. so good. also magnus’ is my lucky number (33) so that’s fun!

Fish Time

“my dexterity’s actually pretty good as a mannequin!”

they’re singing!!! (i do stand by the hc that they sometimes sing D A D @ mags or johann lol :’))

johann is voiced by owen wilson, canonically

“...we’re unemployed, after this. so let’s do this.”

“i didn’t SIGN anything!”

a kick-proof door.

luke is so. good. i love her.

she made a dumbass puzzle with orbs that barry figured out VERY QUICKLY all of which is to say that she is so predictable.

“is the room lit?” / “dude it’s lit as fuck dude.”

i know that this is a real 5e spell bc i had luke use it in the roleswap fic but i’m blanking on its name—the fear trap spell???

merle is afraid of abandonment and the failure of nature, taako is afraid of being alone — isolation, but he sort of instinctively knows: he’s never alone. OH BOY.

okay the spell was either FEAR (lvl 3) or WEIRD (lvl 9)

“start talking. i need to know what you know!”

magnus fixes the harp :’)

parlay w/ fisher!

the fish gives magnus a hug and now that he doesn’t need to breathe he can accept the hug!!! yay!!!

baby mags, in his jacket, arm outstretched!

he brings the whole fam to meet his fish friend

he just fuckin brings the fish food like different food every day.

“you mean julia? aw, yeah, that’s all real.”

Flesh Magnus’ hand twitches

Fish Buppy

i do love the dynamic of the Space Kids like “lucretia it’s like a DOG” / “magnus you’re my brother and i love you but this is an eldritch alien beast that consumes art” / “yes, and it’s our DOG”

also do love the total disregard by fans of the regular wearing of uniform on the ship, though like i feel dav WOULD try and enforce it for the first decade at least

The Hunger Is Here

the seven of you managed to hide for a really long time, but it was all for nothing.

how dare this be a mfd episode that means it’s hard to skip ads!!! damn!!!

reunion tour the song is a jam and a half

LITTLE BOY!!! casting cleric/bard spells like a good lil magic prince

barry’s claustrophobic

“i am a holy man... so let’s kill him!”

“i rolled an eighteen, do not try to control my fuckin’ shit”

“i trust angus mcdonald implictly.”

“i love the director. she gave me a home!”

“THE ONE’S LOOKIN’ FOR THE TRUTH, WELL, THEY’RE NEVER THE BAD GUYS.” (mag: god, i love angus : taa: precious)

seven spaces. i assumed until ttazz that it was one for the first initial of each bird lol but also fuckin weird that homeworld didn’t even have 10 million people on it. i guess that’s why they hired two TEENAGERS for their SPACE MISSION???

NAT 20 AXE HIT!!! MY MAN

rip travworld npcs...

JOHANN :’(

“don’t let them erase me.”

lucretia’s a very neat person.

two empty journals.

lucretia canonically has a coexist bumper sticker. i love her.

oh my god the fucking comedy of errors that is lucretia and barry’s assumption of each other for the twelve years. i love it. just TALK, idiots.

live menos!

live NO más!

magnus befriends baby voidfish.

“boys, don’t try to remember—“

his magic done ran out

BUT WHO WILL HEAL US!

“don’t put up a fight.”

Here She Is But First Let’s Check On Magnus

he just throws away the mannequin sheet!

Baby Boy Cannot Remember Shit And He Gets Stabbed

magnus tits out burnsides with a giant flaming sword thanks

magnus socks first tits out burnsides

LET’S GO LESBIANS LET’S GO!!! LET’S GOOO RUNNING DOWN THE MOON WITH A PACK OF WILD LESBIANS

carey just lizards the FUCK out thank u lizard lesbian

and she just punches him in the fucking face. thanks queen.

“hail and well met,” he says, and she rolls a 22 on punch friend.

“YOU TOOK THE BIG HIT, DIDN’T YOU BUD!”

lucretia voice: i can’t believe you’ve done this.

she’s already bubbled... queen of orbs

remember the thralled!luc theory? shit was good

there were seven of us.

scientists (five adults) and explorers (two CHILDREN!!!)

“we DAMNED this world the moment we landed.”

i found you, the three of you.

a grand story.

“you did... so well!”

i can build a home that all of us can be safe in together

you remember lup, of course! how could you forget lup?

outcast! but! never! alone!

“Lucretia, what have you done?”

fuckin’ love the image of just, like, everyone’s crying, and taako’s straight up about to murder luc and davenport is fucking talking and magnus and the lesbians just mosey on in like “hey guys what did we miss?”

SEEING HIM ALIVE, SHE GASPS, NOT OUT OF SHOCK, BUT OF... HAPPINESS.

it’s the end of the world... again.

we see the portrait, seven people:

lup, with her arm around barry, smiling, taako cheezing it, merle and dav next to each other and flexin, magnus, behind them, kinda goofy, and—lucretia, soft smiles. a rare moment of peace and happiness.

ok next few episodes, guys? It’s_Lucretia’s_Time.mp3

#libra season

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ghostmebangtan-blog · 7 years ago

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Writer’s Block Playlist

Hi, all you hep-cats and cool chicks (If you get my reference, you’re the sweetest hunk of sugar I’ve ever seen). It’s V here with a little filler post until I update Pink Matter. I’m actually in the process of editing and writing at the moment (3,798 words currently), but I needed a small break to step back before I burn myself out. Melatonin does absolutely nothing so I’m almost 3 hours past my bedtime and writing the entire way through it.

Well, now to talk about what this post is about. So, as you all may know, or not, writer’s block sucks. For me, it is the literal devil. I was supposed to have this chapter up days ago but every single time I sat down to do it I just had no idea what the hell I was doing. Of course, that was before tonight, but this is an exception to the rule my brain has made as of late. As I was editing what I had written a few days ago and listening to a podcast, my internet crashed and I had to open Youtube back up and instead of going back to H3H3, I allowed my fingers to take me to my music playlist. And then I had a spark. As soon as I heard these songs my mind fixed itself and I’ve written 900 words. Now on my break time, I decided to share my favorite songs/albums I listen to when I want to make my brain cooperate with me.

Albums

1. Frank Ocean, channel ORANGE

I absolutely love Frank Ocean. His music is so chill and sexy it would be strange if you don’t like at least one of his songs. For those of you who don’t know who he is, he sings the hit song Thinkin Bout You, or for my fellow memers, ‘A potato flew around my room...’ Channel ORANGE is my favorite album of his but he has also released Blond, Unreleased, Unreleased, MISC., and Nostalgia, ULTRA. My favorite songs off of Channel ORANGE are: - Pink Matter - Thinkin Bout You - Pyramids - Forrest Gump

2. Cigarettes After Sex, Cigarettes After Sex

This band. This damn band. Where do I begin? Holy crow I adore them. They are very minimalistic and have very few variations between songs. They can get vulgar lyrics-wise, but what artist doesn’t? They have a very soft sound and the lead singer’s voice is heavenly. So far they have a few singles and two EPs, both of them are self-titled. I highly recommend them. Here are a few of my favorites: - Young and Dumb - Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby - Sesame Syrup - Sweet

3. Yellow Days, Harmless Melodies

His voice, his voice, his voice; his voice. I love his instrumentals, the guitar, the way he growls, and the overall vibe he gives off is amazing. He has two albums that I know of (Harmless Melodies and Is Everything Okay in Your World?) and they are both quickly becoming my favorite things to listen to. Anything that can make me sway along to the beat usually has me hooked. Definitely check my boy out and here are some of my personal recommendations to peak your interest: - A Little While - Your Hand Holding Mine - Gap in the Clouds - People

4. Daniel Caesar, Freudian

This man could cause world peace with a voice like that. I completely fell in love with him when Billie Eilish (hint hint) made a video talking about songs that would describe her life. The first song I heard was Japanese Denim and after that I was his bitch. This man will take over your life if you drop the mask and look him in his eyes. Okay, a little extreme, but you get my point. Screw a recommendation; listen to his music. Just do it. [ insert Shia LaBeouf ]. - Get You (Feat. Kali Uchis) - Best Part (Feat. H.E.R.) - Blessed - Transform (Feat. Charlotte Day Wilson) Just listen to the entire album.

5. The 1975, I Like It When You Sleep, for You Are So Beautiful Yet So Unaware of It

Matt Healy is a god and you can fight me on this if you wish. Must I show you exhibit A, B, and C, or can we both agree that he is perfectly sculpted with a tendency to become self-destructive? Well that last bit got a bit deep, but he is very open about his issues, another thing to add to the list of reasons I love their music. Some of my favorite quotes come from The 1975, but this album, along with their previous album and EPs, hold a place in my heart, and their two new singles that just came out have made me have some realizations about a lot of things concerning myself and other people. I really think you will enjoy these guys: - If I Believe You - She’s American - UGH! - Somebody Else

Songs

1. Noire, He’s My Baby

2. MISSIO, Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

3. Daniel Caesar, Japanese Denim

4. Troye Sivan, Bloom

5. Billie Eilish, Hostage

6. Rex Orange County, Apricot Princess

7. The 1975, Give Yourself A Try

8. Pierce the Veil, She Makes Dirty Words Sound Pretty

9. Cavetown, It’s U

10. City and Colour, The Girl

11. Dodie, Sick of Loosing Soulmates

12. Ross Copperman, Hunger

13. Oasis, Wonderwall

14. Iron and Wine, Flightless Bird, American Mouth

15. Jaymes Young, Stoned on You

16. Japanese Breakfast, Boyish

17. Goth Babe, Velvet Sheets

18. Jonathan Bree, You’re So Cool

19. Mild Orange, Some Feeling

20. Yung Heazy, Cuz You’re My Girl

I hope you all enjoy. Of course, these are not all of the songs in my playlist, not all of these are my absolute favorite, but I was trying to get some variety instead of a full list of the same artists over and over again. I will definitely do this again and update what I’m listening to currently every other month or so. Happy listening!

.V.B.

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jrpneblog · 5 years ago

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Wishin` and Hopin`

Wishin and hopin and thinkin and prayin is the opening line to the old Merseybeats hit but never was it more appropriate to the thoughts of North End fans this season. It is, literally, a lifetime ago since Dave Wilson scored North End`s last goal in the top flight at Burden Park Bolton on April 29th 1961. The Leyland Correspondent had arrived on planet Earth by then by had not yet reached his 1st birthday. It`s true we have been at the gates of Heaven twice but unfortunately St Peter closed them shut before we had time to make it through. The first time wasn`t such a calamity as most thought that with the team we had and the manager we had that our time would come again soon. Well it did come again in 2005 and this time we were confident we would ascend into the higher plain but alas, once again, it wasn`t to be. We threatened a year later under Billy Davies and three years later under Alan Irvine but the team and/or tactic did not get us into the final reckoning. What made it all the more difficult to swallow was the fact that our friends in Claret and Blue made it that year and have virtually never looked back.

However North End fans have taken enough body blows over the years and are hardened to the fact that our club is our club no matter what division we are in and win lose or draw most of us will, literally, be Preston till we die. This season, though, has stirred those heavenly feelings once again and while some are getting a little carried away so early on in the season no-one can deny North End`s great start to the campaign with the season just a third of the way through. Good start as it may be there are many questions still to be answered and if the doom mongers wanted to through some spanners in the works I am sure there are several waiting in their hands. They will say that we have played 9 of the 16 games at home and that we haven`t had the most difficult of starts. The squad is stronger, undoubtedly, and is of a higher standard throughout but is that standard strong enough to maintain a place in the top six come next May or, heven help us, in the top two. Will injuries cripple us like they did last season - the reasons for it not to happen go on and on.

History is against us but can this season really herald a new dawn under Alex Neil. Last season`s ending was disappointing but this year the squad looks hungry and players are playing with confidence. Yes the Championship is tough but I don`t think a team is going to run away with it like Newcastle did a few years ago. This North End are stronger mentally and looking at the crowds and the away support they are holding up well as people start to believe that this year maybe, just maybe. There is a long way to go and many bridges to cross but we are done with International breaks now until next March so as I said last week the next phase of the season runs up to the Middlesbrough game on New Years Day which is four days before the third round of the FA Cup. If North End are still around the top six by then or hopefully in the top two then we really could be be onto something special.

This next phase of the season begins at Derby on Saturday against a team in a little bit of transition after most of their loan players went back after last season. The departure of Frank Lampard to Chelsea has seen Phillip Cocu take over at Pride Park and things haven`t really gone the way the Derby faithful would have wanted them to. It will be a tough game for North End but Alex Neil will have done his usual meticulous homework on the opposition and I`m hoping North End can get a very positive result down in the Midlands with close on 2,500 cheering them on.

Following quickly on fron the Derby game we travel to the KC Stadium on Wednesday evening to play Hull City. The Tigers have been a little unpredictable this season but in Jarrod Bowen have one of the best talents in the Championship and if North End can keep him quiet then I am sure there is something in this game for us. Four points from these two games would be an excellent return in my opinion and North End are well capable of doing that if we play to our full potential. Let`s hope we are still in the top two next Wednesday evening at 10pm before the huge game against West Brom at Deepdale live on Sky on Monday 2nd December.

And Finally this week:- I had the pleasure of attending Deepdale Labour Club on Wednesday evening where Keith Harrison gave a talk about his book - North End Souls. It was a very interesting evening with one or two stories that were too risque to publish but brought some merriment to the assembled audience. North End legend, John Thomas, did a question and answer session after the interval and spoke of his undying love for North End with some very complimentary comments about the late, great John Mc Grath. All in all a very entertaining evening and if you haven`t perchased this book already I can strongly recommend it for you or the North End fans in your family.

Telly Treble

Man City to beat Chelsea 4/9

Fulham to beat QPR 5/6

Tottenham to beat West Ham 3/4

A fiver on these three returns £23.17 with Coral

Running total for the season is + £0.34 including this weeks stake

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withgraceandlight99 · 8 years ago

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Through the Eyes of a Child - Chapter 2/?

My hiatus fic | Teen + | Read on AO3 | Chapter 1

William's perspective of his dad's relationship with Felicity, 'Team Arrow', and maybe a girl named Zoe. But first, there's some heartbreak and pain, because this an Arrow fic after all.

A/N: This was well-received on AO3, so I decided to post another chapter! Hope everybody likes it!

~ Nightmares ~

He woke up for what seemed like the thousandth time in a row, screaming about his mom. And explosions. Adrian, threatening to kill him. Tonight, he’d killed his dad and Felicity, but he woke up just before the bombs went off. It didn’t help the terror, though. Maybe even made it worse, because now the three people who cared about him were dead.

“Hey, hey!” The door flew open and Oliver ran in. He sank to the edge of the bed, his hand outstretched towards him. “It’s okay, buddy. It’s okay. Take a deep breath, okay? Breathe in through your nose.”

William squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a shaky breath. He’d learned a lot about this the past two weeks. He’d had a few nightmares after what happened last year, but nothing like this. These dreams made breathing difficult, and they always brought someone into his room. Probably because both his dad and his ‘something’ had good ears. Tonight, he rolled to his side and pulled his knees to his chest. Maybe his old sleeping position would, by some miracle, make the pain go away. Or at least a little bit of it.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He got asked that every night. And every night, William said no.

Tonight was no different.

Except Oliver didn’t stay quiet.

“I have nightmares a lot too.”

Did he really have to hear this right now?

“Sometimes they’re about people I’ve lost. My dad. My mom. A lot of my friends. Sometimes they’re about me being unable to do something or stop someone from doing something. Either way, I’ve thrown Felicity out of bed several times and no matter how many times they’ve happened, they’re still scary.”

He didn’t want to talk about this right now. Maybe if Oliver went back in time and saved his mom, they could, but why talk about it? He was practically an orphan with a dad he barely knew. Who loved him a lot, and that was something he was happy and thankful for, but he’d been here for two weeks, and breathing still hurt. “I don’t really wanna talk about anything right now.”

“I know, William. And I understand what you went through.”

“You really don’t.”

The nightlight gave him a good view of the sad smile on his dad’s face. “I do, and someday, I’ll tell you about all that. But it’s not something you need to hear about right now. What you do need to know is that it helps to talk about it. I spent years hiding my feelings and issues from everyone, and it created a lot of problems. Take it from me and don’t do that. It hurts, but it helps.”

“Oliver?” Felicity stepped in the room, wrapped in a blanket. She walked to the bed and put her hand on Oliver’s shoulder. Something was communicated between looks—how they did that, he didn’t know—and she smiled.

Oliver cleared his throat. “Hey, William, do you wanna go get some ice cream?”

“It’s two in the morning.”

“I know, but I know where to get some good stuff.” Oliver got off the bed and beckoned to the door. “C’mon. There’s nothing like a midnight run to the grocery store.”

This was crazy. Since when did anybody do this? But his dad wasn’t budging, so he tossed back the covers and reached for the jacket on the ground. Something in him lightened a bit, and the sounds and scenes from the nightmare faded away at the idea of doing something crazy with his dad. “We better not actually have to run though.”

“And you’re not taking the bike either!” Felicity yelled at them as they descended the stairs. “He is way too young for that!”

“Don’t worry, honey, we won’t.” Oliver winked at William and pushed him out the front door. “We actually aren’t, because for one, I won’t ever escape her wrath about that, and two, I only have my Green Arrow bike here, and that wouldn’t be great to ride around.”

“Because not many people know you’re him, right?”

“More people than I’d like to admit, but most of them are friends and family.”

He’d met a lot of them. At the funeral. Though most of their names just blended together into a bunch of people who were sad for him. He didn’t really remember much of the past weeks. Lots of crying, and being angry. It was hard to do anything else except think about his mom.

But maybe for a few minutes, he could think about something else.

“What kind of ice cream do you like?”

“Really anything.”

Oliver shot him a look. “Oh, c’mon, bud. Everyone has a favorite ice cream. Even I do.”

“Okay, fine. Mint chip. Mom used to hate it, because apparently it has a weird taste, but…”

“Felicity can eat an entire thing of it, so we can get that. You might have to arm wrestle her for it, though.”

“Could I pay her off?”

Oliver let out a laugh. “No, she’s richer than I am, so I doubt you could do that.”

“How is she richer than you?”

“Because she is a lot smarter than I am.”

“I can see that.”

“Hey!”

William grinned and bounced in his seat a couple times at the sight of his dad’s face. Hurt. It almost looked real, except for the tiny smile that threatened to break into a laugh at any moment. “Hear me out for a second, though. She tells you who to go beat up, and you go and beat them up. It’s clear who’s the smart one.”

“Very true.” He nodded, and went silent for a few moments, before he looked at William in the passenger seat. “How’d you get so smart?”

“My mom maybe? But I’m eleven. I’ll be twelve in a few months.” He tried to ignore the rush of pain as he realized that his mom wouldn’t be here to celebrate his birthday. Ever again. “I’m not a little kid.”

“I’ve put that one together.”

They rode in silence the rest of the way to Walmart. As he stepped out, William caught Oliver sliding a gun inside his jacket. It should’ve been a repulsive idea to him, but with a gun and his dad next to him, he would stay safe.

Maybe this was his life now.

A year and a half ago, he liked playing with the Flash and Captain Cold and flying kites. Then a man named Malcolm Merlyn took him to a house with a nice girl who liked action figures as well. It hadn’t been too scary until afterwards, when his mom explained to him that he was Matthew now, not William. It was like he didn’t realize the danger that they were in until then. But she never explained why. Only that it was probably because of an old friend who had a tendency to get angry. Which, thinking about it now, was a big lie.

But he’d started living as Matthew and it wasn’t too bad. His Green Arrow action figure still sat on its special shelf, but now it was different. The man – whoever he was – had saved his life. He still played with him every now and then, but he couldn’t get himself into it. Not when everything seemed so much more real.

And now he knew why that man saved him. Granted, he would’ve saved anybody, but he did everything he could to get him home, and that guy turned out to be his dad.

He didn’t want to play with that action figure anymore.

The Green Arrow was a person.

Along with the Flash, and even the bad guys. They lost people, and they cried. A lot. And sometimes they had nightmares.

Just like normal people.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

William shook himself out of his trance and looked up at Oliver. “Nothin’.”

“You know you can talk to me, right? I know I haven’t been in your life but—”

“I know. But I’m thinking about you right now, and you probably wouldn’t want to talk about that.”

“I’m okay talking about myself.”

“Okay. Then what happened to your mom?”

Oliver sighed.

“You don’t have to tell me exactly what happened, but I just want to know. Please?”

“She was, uh, murdered. By a man named Slade Wilson. And yes, that’s all you’re going to get.”

Which he was perfectly fine with if he didn’t know that Slade Wilson was on the island. According to the conversation he overheard on the way home, that man died trying to protect his mom. Was anything about anything uncomplicated? “Didn’t he…?”

“We’ll save that conversation for a later time. For now, ice cream.” Oliver opened the freezer doors and pulled out two things of mint chip, put them in William’s arms, and turned back for more.

“Are you sure we need more than two?”

“Do you doubt me?”

“A little bit.”

Oliver chuckled and pulled out two more tubs of ice cream. “Eventually the team will come back from a much-needed break, and they’ll all be happy that they have this to eat. Because most of them can’t cook.”

“Felicity’s a good cook, though.”

His dad’s eyebrows shot up. “Where’d you get that idea?”

“The food…I don’t really remember much but the food has been really good.”

“That’s actually been me cooking.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” the word came out in a laugh as they walked towards the checkout. “That was me.”

“I didn’t know you could cook.” Duh. It wasn’t like he knew him much before this week. Oliver had come a lot last year, but they’d always played action figures and a few video games. He was super good at that, but it never crossed his mind that that food wasn’t Felicity’s handy work. Which led to a bigger question. “So…can she cook at all?”

“No.”

“That’s kind of a definite answer.”

“Well, she’s hopeless, so…”

Half an hour later, Oliver set three bowls of ice cream on the table and sat down next to Felicity, who still wore a blanket around her shoulders. William reached for the spoon but stopped when she cleared her throat.

“Honey, do you think that’s enough ice cream?” The words were laced with sarcasm.

Oliver leaned forward to look at William’s bowl and shrugged. “I was about to put more in there.”

Felicity narrowed her eyes.

“I’m kidding. I promise I will never serve that much dessert again. But it’s a special occasion, so we’re having extra. Plus, all of us need to eat more.”

It wasn’t like he’d eaten much lately. William nodded in agreement and started eating. When Felicity still didn’t look convinced, he raised his spoon. “I need it.”

“See? He agrees.”

It was three-thirty when they finished their ‘food’. William stared at the stairs leading to his makeshift bedroom, his stomach knotting. He didn’t wanna go back up there. That’s where pain happened and where his mom died every night. He glanced at Oliver, who was watching him from the kitchen. “I’m not really…I’m not really tired.”

“I assumed you’d say that. Thankfully, I’m what Felicity calls a ‘night owl’, so I’ll stay down here with you. We could watch a movie.”

“It has to be something that isn’t scary.”

“Well, thankfully,” he flipped on the TV and clicked on Netflix, “Curtis doesn’t like anything that isn’t sappy or a children’s movie, so we have plenty of options.” He glanced at him, questions in his eyes. “I-I don’t really know what kids your age like to watch. You can pick.”

“Despicable Me?”

“What is that?”

“You’ve never watched that one?”

“I-I’ve…never really had a kid before.”

“Well, we gotta watch it. C’mon.” He hopped onto the couch and pulled the blanket over his lap. Oliver took a seat next to him and set his feet on the coffee table. As the movie progressed, William looked up at his dad who was staring at the TV screen, but, at least from his deadpan face, not actually watching the movie. “Hey, about that nightmare tonight?”

“What about it? “

“It’s not just about this one. All of them have been about Adrian and my mom dying. But tonight, he killed you and Felicity too. He broke your necks.”

Oliver flashed him a sad smile. “Thanks for telling me.”

“I miss her a lot, Oliver.” He didn’t want to cry during one of his favorite movies, but he couldn’t stop himself like some people. “I miss her so much.”

“I know, buddy. It gets easier, though. I promise.”

He sat there, tears running down his face, trying to put himself back together. But his dad clearly had. Several times, actually. His mom and dad died, and some friends. Who knew how many there were? So he knew how to somehow be okay again. “What do you do?”

“When life really, really sucks?”

“Yeah.”

Oliver shrugged, his eyes wandering to the photos on the counter. William had looked at them a few times. One was of his dad and Thea, another one of Oliver and the guy named Dig at a wedding. But the best one was the one of him and Felicity. Clearly she was there for him the most when life really sucked. “I guess…it takes a while to figure everything out. It’s not always easy, but there’s some happy times. The trick is to go straight to the people you love the most because they can help. And William, I’m sorry if you don’t get that—”

“No, you have.” If there was anything he needed to say, it was that. “And I’m glad that I’m here.”

That made him smile. Oliver shifted on the couch and gestured to the TV. “Wanna finish the movie?”

When he woke up several hours later, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets with the coffee table pushed up against the couch so he wouldn’t fall off, he closed his eyes again and smiled. Just a little bit. Because this was the first time since Adrian kidnapped him that he woke up without a nightmare.

#Arrow fanfic #Olicity fanfic #Oliver Queen #William Clayton #Felicity Smoak #Oliver x William #Oliver x Felicity #Through the Eyes of a Child #Brianna writes

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marvelousworldgeek-blog · 8 years ago

Text

“Didn’t Know it was Love” -Survivor

Author: Kennedy

Characters: Fem!Reader and Steve Rogers/Captain America with Sam Wilson/Falcon

Story: Steve realises his feelings for the reader as it’s too late

Rated PG: light language and kissing

“Didn't know it was love. Didn't know it was fate. Didn't know it was destiny callin'. Tell me it's never too late”

“Alright, take five!” Steve called to the men, who let out a collective sigh of relief the moment her turned his back again.

Sam jogged up, sweating and panting, and asked, “What’s going on, Cap?”

“What?” Steve frowned to himself but didn’t look up from what he was doing.

“You’re working the troops pretty hard today. Kind of makes me think your mind is elsewhere.”

“Nope,” Steve straightened and smiled stiffly. “Just trying to get everyone back in shape.”

“These are some of the most highly trained agents out there. They’re always in shape and combat ready, I guarantee.”

“We don’t know what’s gonna come after us out there, Sam,” Steve said as he began walking back to the office. “With everything going on we have to be ready for anything.”

Sam followed him and closed the door; “There hasn’t been a peep out of anyone in months.”

“Exactly. A storm is coming.”

“Bullshit.”

Steve looked up, surprised.

“Bullshit,” Sam repeated boldly. “What’s on your mind?”

Steve looked at Sam’s crossed arms and expectant look. He felt his resolve slipping, and knew that even is Sam let it go now, he would still suspect deep down that something was up.

“(Y/N) left this morning.”

“Wasn't blind to the magic, you think I'm so tough. Turning back on the thunder just ain't good enough”

(Y/N) dragged her suitcase over the curb and swore quietly as the crooked wheel once again caught in the cracked pavement. The Uber driver had already pulled back into the carpool lane, leaving her to pull the crappy luggage up to the desk to check into her flight. The man at the counter hardly even noticed her beyond checking her passport and pointing her to the escalator. The closer she got to actually leaving, the more unceremonious and wrong the whole trip felt.

(Y/N) had been a part of an internship with her brother’s old business associate, Tony Stark, for the past two years. It wasn’t an official program, actually; more of a favor from her brother. And (Y/N) couldn’t turn down a chance to be in New York! Stark had set her up in a fancy apartment within walking distance of the Avengers headquarters where she had done all her work. She had met the whole team and became fast friends with quite a few of them. She and Wanda spent all their free time together, she had coffee with Clint at least once a week, Sam became her greatest confidant, and Steve…

She stopped at the coffee shop near her gate and got into line, shaking herself lightly to erase the tightness that crept into her chest.

“Was I too blind to see, when push came to shove. You were all that I needed, didn't know it was love”

Sam took a seat across from Steve, his expression shifting from concern to clarity.

“Did you say goodbye?”

Steve shrugged.

Sam had to bite the insides of his cheek to keep from sounding too harsh; “You didn’t even say goodbye?”

“In light of recent events, I thought it would be wise to keep things professional. I said goodbye when the rest of you did.”

Sam considered him thoughtfully. He was at a loss for what to say. It was too late now to fix everything that had occurred between his friends. (Y/N) had recounted the events over coffee one day after work.

It had been obvious to her from the first time they met that she was madly in love with Steve Rogers. How could someone not be? It wasn’t the most convenient thing, as she kind of worked for him and he spent so much of his life stoically stashing his emotions. But it was how she felt from day one. She did a surprisingly good job of hiding though. From everyone but Sam, that is.

When he confronted her the first time, she immediately came clean about everything. From there it was a little easier to go through the days with that secret. Eventually, of course, Sam started to notice Steve had changed too. He trusted (Y/N), was more himself when she was around. He made more of an effort to be gentlemanly and stayed late from training to talk with everyone when (Y/N) stopped by after finishing up her work for the day. But something was holding him back.

It took (Y/N) until about a month ago to even confront her feelings and confess them. It was after an evening of training and she and Steve had been the only ones left in the tower. Even Tony had gone home that night. Up on the balcony, in the lights of the city, it was Steve who had realized his sudden change of heart. It had been the first time he’d felt this way about anyone since Peggy. In a moment of weakness he had leaned in and almost let himself kiss her, then at the last second come up with an excuse and left without an explanation. After that it was all business.

“What are you doing?” Sam broke the silence. “That girl is getting on a plane. She is leaving.”

“I know.”

“Do you…?”

“Sam, she’s-” he gestured vaguely. “And I’m-”

More gesturing.

“An idiot?”

Steve shot him a look; “I couldn’t be the reason she left.”

“You were the reason she stayed, Steve.”

“I was lookin' for trouble and the thrill of the chase. Love was lookin' at me eye to eye, face to face”

After a long struggle with crowds and the broken wheel and a ticket snafu and a delayed boarding time, (Y/N) was finally on the plane, wedged tightly between a sweaty business man and a woman with a very irritable infant. With her elbows pinned to her sides, (Y/N) pulled her phone up and typed a quick text to her brother to let him know she was on. Then she let out a sigh.

It felt strange to be going home. New York had come to feel like home during her time there. But her work with Stark had come to a turning point, and she had the choice to either take a permanent position or end her time there. She had gone up to the roof to think about all this the night that Steve had stayed late to train, and the two of them had ended up alone together late that night. Mostly they had talked about the usual spectrum of things, but somewhere between the pressure of her big decision and the way the city lights highlighted Steve’s handsome features, (Y/N) had found herself leaning in to kiss him, not even thinking about the consequences or how he might react. As it was, he had reacted badly. He immediately dodged the kiss and left her alone, feeling stupid and humiliated. And after that he hardly spoke to her outside the usual office chat.

The woman next to her shifted the baby so that he was pressed against (Y/N)’s arm, while the mother bent down to rummage through the diaper bag under her seat. The baby’s unhappy whining pierced (Y/N)’s ears like needles but she attempted to smile at him. The man on her other side turned the page of his magazine and in the motion, elbowed her arm farther off the shared armrest.

“(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)?”

She glanced up miserably at the source of the voice; a uniformed military officer.

“That’s me?”

“Come with me, ma'am.”

“Um, is everything okay?”

“Just come with me, please.”

(Y/N)’s pulse quickened as she stood. As she reached up into the overhead for her bag, she missed the momentary flash of the SHIELD badge under the officer’s jacket.

“One touch should've told me, try and understand. Love was always a long shot to a gambling man. With a roll of the dice, girl I threw it away. Now I'm thinkin' 'bout you day and night, night and day”

“What?”

“Her internship was only for six months. She chose to stay because she was in love with you,” Sam said matter of factly.

“Where are you getting this…?”

Sam looked at him flatly; “It’s obvious.”

Steve stood up from his chair and started to pace. Outside, the troops were starting to wonder what had happened to their afternoon of training.

“Okay. So you misread the situation,” Sam continued.

“Misread the sit- Sam, I let her go!”

Sam stood too; “Okay.”

Grabbing his jacket, Steve said, “Tell everyone to go home.”

“Where are you going?” Sam jogged after him past the bewildered crowd of agents.

“To the airport.”

“Those crazy nights on the borderline. Did my best to cut myself free. Stood alone, just a prisoner. Never knew you were holdin' the key”

(Y/N) walked between the two officers through the airport with her heart in her throat. Neither had taken a moment to explain what was going on and people were throwing nervous glances her way as they passed. It felt like forever before they finally stopped, leading her through the gate and out into the departure area where the arriving flight passengers were greeting their loved ones.

The man on her left had been carrying her suitcase, but he set it down here and said, “Wait here.”

Then they left.

“(Y/N).”

She turned back to face the doors, eyes widening at the sight of Steve standing with his hands fiddling nervously with the edge of his coat.

“Steve? What… why are you… who-” she pointed between him, the doors, and the receding figures of the two officers.

“Don’t go.”

(Y/N) looked at him, totally bewildered.

“Don’t leave New York.”

“Um,” she cleared her throat. “My internship is up.”

“I know. But it has been for a year and a half.”

“How did you-” she frowned. “Dammit Sam.”

“(Y/N), why are you leaving?”

She searched his expression, trying to funnel all her thoughts into a coherent statement; “There’s nothing left for me here.”

“There’s the job. Your friends. Your apartment,” Steve took a breath. “Me?”

“You?”

Steve stepped in a little closer and nodded; “That night, on the roof? I started to kiss you, and it-”

“Hold on,” she held up a hand to silence him. “You kissed me?”

He looked lost; “What do you mean?”

“I tried to kiss you. That’s why you left. I overstepped the boundary and it made you uncomfortable. Right...?”

“No.”

And that was all he said before closing the space to take her face in between his strong hands and kiss her, amidst all the reunited lovers and families in the airport. The kiss was lasting, a surprising move for the modest super soldier. But it was perfect.

When he finally found the willpower to pull away, he quietly repeated, “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she breathed.

“Didn't know it was love. Didn't know it was fate. Didn't know it was destiny callin”

#Admin Kennedy #Valentines Day #Valentines Playlist #Didn't Know it was Love -Survivor #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers oneshot #Captain America #Captain America oneshot #Marvel #Marvel onehot #Avengers #Avengers oneshot

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