#the winter soldier x ofc

[thatsashitplan]

he may be your husband who time-traveled to be with you, but do you have an entire section dedicated to your relationship in his exhibit in the Smithsonian museum?

[donottouchredbutton]

In a Heartbeat

joaquin torres x sunshine!reader/ofc

4k words

she saves someone, and joaquin saves her.

moodboard

note: i wrote this with my oc in mind that i plan to write more about, but i wanted it to be read as a reader insert as well! let me know what you think :)

She had been living in Washington DC for a little over a year now. She moved there for grad school, and some of the excitement had yet to wear off still. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, with all of the good schools nearby and all of the things to do and learn in the capital. It seemed like a busy enough place to never be bored, which was exactly what she wanted. It really had seemed like a smart idea, especially since she hadn’t had any problems since moving there.

Until she did.

She was out with her roommate after classes had ended for the day, enjoying the warm spring day and simply happy to be people watching as they hung out. It had quickly become one of her favorite things since moving there, something she shared with her roommate, Jasmine. She was always glad she and Jazzy got along so well and liked spending time together, often spending time just being out and about like today. 

Jazzy was showing her a small outdoor shopping district just outside of a park. It must’ve been really popular because it was packed with people. People were out walking their dogs, parents were out shopping with their kids, couples and friends were on dates and lounging on the grassy areas. Music was coming from the open doors of one of the stores, loud enough to carry even as you walked away from it. Something smelled good, like fresh bread and cinnamon sugar, and she wanted to follow her nose to figure out where it was coming from. There was a warm breeze that made her shiver whenever they walked in the shade, so she pulled Jazzy away to make sure they stayed in the sun. A few kids ran past them playing tag. It made her smile, she hoped they were having fun. 

She was pulled out of her thoughts when she noticed a bit of commotion going on. She couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but it was progressively getting louder. From the looks of it, she wasn’t the only one who had noticed as many of the people nearby were looking around as well. It continued to grow louder and louder until she spotted a large group of people running in their direction, all shouting and screaming to get away. A ways behind them, she spotted a group of big looking men in scary looking masks carrying scary looking weapons, all running after them with their weapons pointed forward. Before she could think about how cliche that sounded, she knew they had to get away first. Many people around them were coming to the same conclusion as they all began turning tail and running. She and Jazzy shared a look of understanding before following suit.

As everyone kept running away and the noise was getting louder, another noise caught her attention above all the commotion. She could just barely hear a small voice calling for help, but it was loud enough to get her to stop running. Her head whipped around trying to find whoever it was, wherever it was coming from. Her eyes landed on a little girl sitting on the ground holding a little boy, and even from her distance she could see they were crying.

“MOMMY!” the little girl kept shouting, tears running down her face as she tried to pull the little boy up with her. They had to be brother and sister. She sounded terrified.

She took off before she could think about what she was doing. She could vaguely hear Jazzy calling after her, trying to get her to turn around and come back, but she couldn’t. The only thing on her mind was getting to those kids before they could get hurt. She wouldn’t let that happen.

She slid to a stop and knelt down next to the kids when she got to them, unconcerned about the fact that she tore a hole in her jeans by doing so, nor the bruises and scrapes she no doubt would have on her knees either. The little girl, maybe seven or eight, kept pulling on her brother’s arm trying to get him to move, but he was sat on the ground firmly, bawling his eyes out and refusing to move. She knew he couldn’t have been older than three years old. 

She looked around for anyone who could have been their mother, anyone willing to help, but everyone was running in the opposite direction. She turned her head to see the group of men getting closer and closer, and they were gaining fast. She was the only one around.

“I need to get you out of here,�� she said, turning back to the two kids, voice urgent. “I’ll get you back to your mom, I promise.”

She tried to pick up the little boy, who immediately started shouting and fighting when she did so. He was on the verge of a full-blown breakdown, determined to stay exactly where he was no matter what she did. 

“He won’t let anyone but mom pick him up,” the little girl cried, “but I don’t know where mommy is!”

Seeing how frightened they were broke her heart. There was no getting them to move if she couldn’t pick the little boy up, but she couldn’t just leave them. She wouldn’t. She didn’t know what to do, and she was struggling to come up with something fast enough. With another glance over her shoulder, she realized she was out of time. They were too close now, seconds away and coming right towards them. 

“Hold onto him, and don’t let go!” she ordered the girl. Once the girl did as she said, she grabbed both of the kids and held them to her chest, making sure neither of them would get hit as she awaited the inevitable first—and what she expected to be the final—blow to hit. 

She felt a strong gust of air rush over her head, and at the sound of a fight right behind her, she held on tighter to the kids in her arms. She knew this was it. In a heartbeat, it’d be finished. She’d be finished. 

“Are you okay?”

The voice was closer than she expected, making her jump, but it sounded genuinely concerned. Chancing a glance behind her, she was met with a pair of soft brown eyes. 

She looked past the man to see what was going on, only just noticing that the commotion had stopped, and she could see that the group of men were all lying on the ground unconscious with a man holding a shield standing above them. Everyone knew who Captain America was, but she never expected to come across him herself. Knowing that the kids would be safe now, she looked back to the man in front of her and was shocked to see he had a pair of wings on his back. The Falcon. They were positioned in a way that was meant to shield them from any danger. 

She finally looked back at the Falcon. His eyes hadn’t left her the entire time, and he stayed put in front of them, as if he wanted to make sure nothing could happen to them even with the threat gone. 

Instead of answering the man, she turned back to the kids in her arms. They were still crying and scared, she knew they would be, but at least she knew they would be safe now. She scanned over them for any injuries, and once she knew they were unharmed, she cupped the little girl’s face to get her attention. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay now. You’re safe,” she assured her, speaking softly to help her calm down a bit. She stroked her cheek to gently wipe away her tears. She felt her own heart beating out of her chest, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. “I’m gonna get you back to your mom now, okay? Let’s go find your mom.” 

She glanced back at the man behind her again, who still hadn’t moved, before she eased the kids up into standing. The weight of the situation was finally catching up to her, her head swimming as she tried her hardest to focus on getting the kids back to their mom before anything else. She kept looking between them and the man who saved them. Stuttering, she said, “I… I need-”

“MOMMY!” the little girl called, grabbing her brother’s hand and running to meet the woman who was running towards them. 

She watched as the older woman dropped to her knees to meet her children in an embrace, her own tears streaming down her face as she held her children to her chest. The woman began kissing all over their faces and on the tops of their heads, and the woman’s voice was just loud enough for her to hear her repeating my babies to the children in her arms.

She was walking towards the family before she knew what she was doing. Her knees were screaming at her causing her to limp slightly, but she didn’t care. She needed to make sure they would be okay. Once she was close enough, the woman looked up at her and a look of gratitude crossed her face. 

“Thank you,” the woman managed to say through her tears. “Thank you for protecting my babies.” For a moment, she thought the woman was talking to the Falcon, the one who actually had saved her kids, but the woman was looking at her. 

“You don’t…” she started, beginning to shake her head, but she knew it would be pointless. Instead, she said, “I’m just glad you and your kids are safe.” 

She watched them a few more moments before the woman gathered her kids up and hurried away from the scene. She couldn’t blame them, she wanted to do the same. 

She suddenly remembered the man who had saved them. The Falcon (she couldn’t get over it). She turned back towards him, and this time she really took him in. His wings had retracted back into his suit, thankfully, as they had been very distracting. He was tall without being towering. His skin looked warm and sun-kissed with sharp cheekbones that made her wonder what he looked like when he smiled. He had a head of short, curly black hair, and those soft brown eyes. Those eyes that were still watching, a strange gleam present that hadn’t been there before. 

She didn’t really know what to say, feeling awkward, but she didn’t need to. Before she could even thank him, he spoke instead.

“Are you okay?” he asked again. Something told her that he wouldn’t leave until he knew she was.

“I’m fine,” she finally answered. She didn’t know if she was telling the truth or not, but she still wasn’t able to focus on how she really felt. The kids were safe, their mother was safe, and as far as she was concerned, that’s all that mattered. And this man made sure of that. “Thank you.”

The man seemed to relax a bit at that, his shoulders losing some of their tension. He opened his mouth to say something else, but another voice cut in. 

“Torres! We gotta go, man!” 

It was Captain America who interrupted (which was something she never thought she’d experience), having just been talking with the police who she hadn’t noticed had arrived. They were hauling the men—masks gone and in handcuffs now—into the backs of the police cars. The hero was inspecting their weapons, clearly waiting for the other man—Torres, apparently—to join back up with him. Torres looked between the two of them, seeming conflicted. Before either of them could say anything, they were once again interrupted. 

The sound of Jazzy calling her name snapped her out of whatever was going on, and she turned to see her roommate running straight towards her. Before she could comprehend what was going on, Jazzy was grabbing her arm and pulling her away, determined to get them away from anything else that might happen. She looked back at the man, Torres, and called out another thank you! before she let her roommate lead her away from the scene. 

—

In truth, she didn’t think she would ever see him again. Why would she? He was The Falcon, Captain America’s partner and a superhero in his own right. He had to have saved countless people all the time. He probably wasn’t even in DC anymore. There was no way she would see him again. 

But then she did. 

She volunteered at a local elementary school, and today they were taking the fifth graders down to the veterans rehabilitation center. They liked to decorate the walls with pictures and bring flowers for the veterans, wanting to try to brighten their days a bit and thank them for their service while doing so, and she liked being part of it as well. She couldn’t imagine what some of them have gone through, but she would sometimes sit in on the group sessions to try to understand more. It was why she made sure to take the kids there at least once every couple weeks.

“It was so nice seeing you and the kids again, sunshine!” the kind lady at the front desk said as she was getting them ready to leave. It was a nickname she had quickly picked up since they started going there, and it always made her laugh.

“Of course, Laura!” she replied. “I’m just glad they like coming down here as much as I do.”

Laura chuckled lowly. “Your visits always make everyones day. They may not say it often, but they appreciate it. More than you know.”

She smiled softly at that. “We try our best. We just want to show our respect and try to brighten things up for everyone, you know?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, hun. What you do with the kids and for everyone here, not many people would do it. We all appreciate everything you do around here. We appreciate you.”

She looked down bashfully at the older woman’s kind words. She never really knew what to say to that. Her eyes flicked back up to Laura. “Oh, I almost forgot!” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small bin. “I know you’ve been wanting to try Jazzy’s brownies.”

The wide grin that appeared on Laura’s face was enough for one to form on her’s as well. She nearly snatched the bin out of her hand, causing her to laugh. “You spoil me, sunshine!”

The two shared a few more words before she checked the time, knowing she needed to leave soon if she didn’t want the bus to leave without her. She said goodbye to Laura with a promise to be back the next week, and the other woman jokingly promised to be ready for more treats. With a wave and another smile to her friend, she began making her way to the front doors. She was in high spirits as she was preparing to leave, paying no mind to the man she passed on her way out until he called out to her. 

“Hey, it’s you!”

She almost didn’t stop, but when she looked around the area and saw it was mostly void of people, she figured it was her he was trying to get the attention of. When she stopped and turned around, her eyes widened when they met the same soft brown ones she first saw just the other day. 

“It’s you,” she repeated, not knowing what to say.

For a moment, she wondered how she could even miss him. Sure, he wasn’t wearing his suit or his wings and seemed, therefore, much less intimidating–not that he seemed intimidating in the first place, but he did save her life, and there’s just something about meeting a superhero face to face that makes a person feel overly self-aware. Without the suit on, you wouldn’t even assume he was a superhero, though in her head she was kicking herself because of course that was the point. He just seemed so normal, and she felt like she could pay more attention now that her life wasn’t on the line. He wore a dark green jacket over a black shirt and jeans, a pair of sunglasses hanging from one of the pockets. His shoulders filled out his jacket well, subtly showing off his built but lean muscles. Part of her wished she could remember what they looked like in his suit when they were more noticeable, and she mentally kicked herself again for thinking that about a complete stranger. His dark curls were styled simply and looked soft to the touch, and she was sure they were. 

Those eyes, though. Unlike before, his soft eyes were looking at her in pleasant surprise rather than concern, his lips quirking up in what was almost a smile. But that weird gleam she saw before was still there, and if anything, it was much more apparent than before.

It took her a few more seconds to realize neither one of them had said anything, her eyes glancing off to the side as her mind raced for something to say. He must’ve realized the same thing because his eyes widened suddenly, taking a step toward her once he knew he had her attention. 

“Sorry, um,” he began, searching for his words, “I just didn’t think I’d ever see you again, but I’m glad I did. How are you doing, after what happened?”

Her eyes widened slightly again, surprised by his words. “I-I’m doing fine,” she answered, but she wasn’t sure how much she believed herself. She added, “‘ve just been trying to get back to normal, is all.”

He seemed satisfied enough with her answer and started to nod, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

His words surprised her again. In a burst of confidence, she replied with, “Well, I did have someone to save me.”

His smile grew as he looked down sheepishly, and she thought she heard him say just doing my job under his breath. When he looked back up at her, she thought she liked seeing that gleam in his eyes, especially when he smiled. She thought happiness looked good on him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked gently, suddenly remembering where she still was. 

“Oh, I’m here to meet my partner,” he answered. “He helps out with the counseling sessions when he can. But I’ve got some information I need to discuss with Cap.”

Somehow, it didn’t surprise her to hear that about Captain America. In fact, it made her respect him even more for trying to help people on a more personal level, not just fighting as a superhero. Saving lives on all fronts, she was sure. But the way he talked about why he was there was just vague enough to pique her interest, and just telling enough for her to understand she shouldn’t pry. She was going to find a way to politely remove herself from the conversation, but he spoke again before she could.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, repeating her own question. He cringed at the way it came out, so he quickly added, “I just mean, this is the last place I expected to see you. Are you in the military?”

She shook her head, nearly chuckling. “No, I’m not. The school I volunteer at brings some of the older students down here every few weeks. We like to bring flowers and write cards, you know, to try to show our respect and appreciation. Try to brighten up people’s days where we can.”

“You do all this?” He asked, gesturing toward the decorations on the walls and the flowers here and there. His eyes had widened in surprise again, and it was her turn to look down bashfully this time. 

“Not just me. It’s the kids, mostly, but I like to help out.”

He looked impressed, and something about the look on his face and those damn eyes caused her face to heat up. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention. 

“Well, I can confidently say that I’m not the only one around here who loves seeing all of the notes and decorations,” he said softly, the smile on his face filling her with a sense of warmth she hadn’t felt before. “It’s amazing what you’ve been doing. We all appreciate what you do. And the kids, of course.”

Something told her that he was speaking more for himself than he was for everyone else, and somehow she knew that he meant it toward her directly. The thought made her smile.

His face suddenly got more serious, though, instantly making her feel nervous. “What you did the other day, with those two kids, too. That was amazing.”

That was not something she was expecting, and she definitely didn’t know how to respond to it. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down, suddenly feeling shy. “I did what anyone would do.”

But he was already shaking his head. “No, really. You saved those kids. I may be the one with wings, but you’re the real hero. It was incredible.”

When she glanced back up at him, she saw that a small smile had reappeared on his lips, and somehow, it was enough to ease some of the tension in her shoulders. It was enough to comfort her in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time, and it made her feel seen in a way she never had. All with one look, which is what really surprised her. She knew deflecting would be useless, so she settled with telling him, barely loud enough for him to hear, “Thank you.” And she meant it more than he knew.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked one final time.

She wanted to laugh that he wouldn’t let it go so easily. “I am, or I will be. I promise,” she answered, and she knew she was telling the truth this time. “Besides, this wouldn’t be my first time in a situation like that, and I’m sure it won’t be my last.” Now that got a good reaction out of him, even though it was the truth.

“Speaking of the kids, though,” she said before he could think about it too much, checking the time again and realizing she’d officially run out of time, “I have to get going so I don’t get left behind.” She looked him over one more time, trying to memorize as much as she could, before she began to turn away. “It was nice to see you again, and to talk. And thank you, again, for saving me.”

His smile warmed her from the inside out. “If it meant getting to see you again, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

She forced herself not to shudder before turning around. She had only made it a few more steps before he suddenly stopped her again. 

“Wait!” he called, almost too loudly for the quiet hallway. “I didn’t ever get your name!”

She wanted to kick herself again. How had they gone this entire conversation without learning each other’s names? She glanced back over her shoulder, seeing that he had barely moved from his spot. With a warm smile directed at him, she told him her name.

Another smile began to form on his face in return, and it looked like he repeated her name under his breath. Their eyes met a final time before he responded with his own. “I’m Joaquin. It was really nice to meet you, too.”

She turned around before he could catch the wide grin that was beginning to form on her face against her will and tried to rush out of there as subtly as she could. As she went, she could just hear him, Joaquin, repeat her name a second time, and even from where she was she could hear a smile in his tone. She left the building with a bounce in her step and a warm feeling in her chest. 

All because of the Falcon who saved her.

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall's Masterlist

Hello and welcome! Thanks for stopping by and hope to see you here again ;)

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🔥- smut 🌈- fluff ⚠️ - angst

So let's get started and enjoy!

Chains of Destiny- Wolverine/Logan Howlett x Mutant F!OC ⚠️ for now later 🔥⚠️🌈 (series)

New life - Wolverine/worst!Logan x Reader 🔥⚠️🌈 (one shot)

Sweet past - Joel Miller (dbf) x Reader (series on-going) 🔥⚠️🌈

The guard till the end - Oberyn Martell x F!OC ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

Fool - Sandor Clegane x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

Escape - Bucky Barnes x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

I want to be with you, it is as simple, and as complicated as that - Bucky Barnes x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

Love is an open door - Bucky Barnes x Reader 🌈 (one-shot)

Nothings ever what it seems - Bucky Barnes ⚠️ (one-shot)

I ain’t afraid of no skeleton - Steve Rogers x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

Home / Home 2 - Steve Rogers x Reader 🔥⚠️🌈 (two-parter) 18+

The only B - Professor!Steve x Student!Reader 🔥🌈 (one-shot) 18+

Enough is Enough / Second Chance - Steve Rogers x Reader ⚠️ 🌈(two-shots)

But it’s snowing - Steve Rogers x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

The first snow of the year - Steve Rogers x Reader 🌈 (one-shot)

Ceasg - Pirate!Steve Rogers x Mermaid!Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

The PA - Tony Stark x Reader ⚠️🌈 (mini-series - finished)

I didn’t want it to be this way - Curtis Everett x Reader 🔥⚠️⚠️⚠️ (one-shot) 18+

Jealous - Geralt x Reader 🌈 (one-shot)

Time of War - Captain Syverson x Fem!OC (series ongoing)

Teenage Fantasy - Henry Cavill x Reader 🔥🌈 (one-shot)

The one with the Force - Obi Wan Kenobi x F!OC Medic (series ongoing)

Love isn't something you just learn, Commander part 1 / Part 2- Commander Cody x F!Reader ⚠️🔥🌈 18+ (two-parter finished)

Hope - Hunter x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one shot)

A new life / Part 2 / Part 3 - Commander Fox x F!OC ⚠️🔥🌈 18+ (three-parter finished)

Jealous - Echo x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

The Fight isn't over yet - Rex x F!OC (series ongoing)

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Qi Flows for Her

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Master List  |  Steve Rogers Master List  |  Qi Flows For Her Master List

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Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Fluff, smexy, and angst

A/N: To the amazing @crownoyami, thank you for your patience as I finally finished this story and for your coffee update, which allowed it to happen! You are the best!

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[thefallennightmare]

SO SORRY (not really) to bug you again but, I know you're writing a Bucky and Noah fic, but I just thought about Noah dressing up as the Winter Soldier especially cause his hair is getting longer again and I got butterflies 🫠

Nah, that's The Winter Omens.

Who Are You?

[gaslighttragedy]

The Silver Shadow

Summary : In this story, Bucky and Andrea, an unconventional pair forced to work together even though they are constantly arguing; Sam is usually the mediator between them. Bucky does not trust Andrea, and Andrea does not trust Bucky. (Prologue is a flashback.) Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Original Female MC named Andrea, her FC is up to you, but I imagine a Shailene Woodley type character. (Bucky not seen in prologue. Main Interaction is with Tony Stark.) Words : A little under 1K. Warnings : Nothing notable in this prologue. Note : Suspension of disbelief is required ; I took a lot of liberties with the story, timeline and series of events. Other note : I wrote this in 2021, and let it in my google doc drafts. I found it, and thought maybe i could do something with it. I had a few ideas written down for the next chapters, so if people like this, I might continue? Prologue | Next Chapter Masterlist

Montreal, Summer of 2012.

The clicking and tapping of fingers on the black computer keys were the only thing that could be heard inside the small room. That small room was serving as the temporary headquarters for what the brunette doing the actual typing considered her best operation yet. Usually, she'd have some music playing in the background, but the playlist she'd been playing had stopped a while ago and she didn't bother to start a new one. No, she'd been having way too much of a blast. Infiltrating the Canadian Government's website to change every mention of Prime Minister Harper's name to Asswipe McStupid was the most fun she's ever had on a job. The real reason she was infiltrating the server was a tad bit more complex, but the prank added a little bit of flair to the task. Plus, it paid well, since she risked actual prison if she got caught. But then again, she always, always, had a fail-safe.

She only had about two minutes left to put the final touches on the malware she'd then upload on the government's server while the files she needed were uploading to her computer before the intrusion was traced back to her location and she was typing as fast as she could. That's when she heard it. 

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Fuck! She was supposed to have more time, god damnit! How could they have found her so fast? It was impossible! As she continued typing frantically, she was trying to understand where she messed up. Prison was not an option, and she didn't want to use her fail-safe. She'd never had to use it before on a big scale, say, on the military ops that would surely find her now.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Louder, this time. The pounding she was hearing seemed to come almost directly from behind her. How did they get up to her so fast? She was on the 19th floor! It's not like they had power suits or jet packs to get to her that fast! The file she needed from the server was already exported to her computer, and she barely had time to close up everything before she heard the last barrier between her and the rest of the world fall behind her.

BOOM. 

As soon as she heard the door go down behind her, the cybercriminal threw her hands up, and for just a second, it felt like time stopped. She didn't hear a sound, which was surprising, since she thought a thousand men would be there to arrest her. That's usually what happens when you get caught stealing secret files from undocumented government projects. But she didn't hear a thing. The overwhelming desire to turn around was strong, but she stayed there for what seemed an eternity before she heard his voice. 

"I knew you were strong, but that's..." He said, with a little bit of… could it be envy in his voice? 

She'd heard his voice before. Everyone in America knew that voice. He'd been on TV, on the radio, and his name was as admired as it was feared. He'd made a spectacle a couple of years back, and because of it, his name would go down in history. 

"Jarvis," he continued, "Is she really stopping the suit right now?" 

"It appears so, Sir. I've lost all control of the suit's motricity." 

The brunette sighed as she finally dropped her hands to her side, simultaneously releasing Tony Stark from her hold. 

"I thought I made my position on your offer very clear, Mr. Stark." She said as calmly as possible. 

"And I thought you might want to reconsider." He replied with confidence. "Your abilities, they're worth putting to good use."

The hacker got up from her chair and started to pack her computer as fast as she could. She was losing time, and the longer she stayed in this spot, the more likely she was to get caught. She turned to Stark, who was still trying to convince her to do something she'd never agree to.

"Mr. Stark, as I've said twice before, I'm not joining your team of superheroes, or whatever you called it…" 

"Avengers." He said, cutting her. 

She casually dismissed him with the back of her hand, making the red suit rattle. 

"Avengers, Shmamengers. I don't care. I'm not doing it. Final answer." 

"This is not Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. You can't just say final answer." Tony said, aggravated. 

As she put her black messenger bag over her shoulder, the woman approached the famous Tony Stark and patted him on the shoulder of this suit, and with the flick of a wrist, put a big dent on it. It wasn't a warning, because he knew she'd easily overpower him. She did it just for fun. Just to mess with him. 

"Goodbye, Mr. Stark." She said with a sly grin.

"Jarvis, please advise Fury that Silver Shadow is a no-go." He sighed to his AI as the brunette was leaving the concrete building. 

[figaroswilson]

𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙚𝙙 ⇒ 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘹 𝘦𝘹𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳!𝘰𝘧𝘤

Chapter 2

masterlist

story summary: Kira Barnes, the younger adopted sister of Bucky Barnes, is forced out of the dark underworld of espionage and into the light of the new world of superheroes when her brother abandons her with the Avengers to go on the run. She is set in her ways and determined to find her brother until she meets Pietro Maximoff, someone who challenges her black-and-white view of the world.

story warnings: violence, swearing, blood, descriptions of abuse

chapter word count: 2247

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~ ✺ ~

If it was anyone else, she wouldn't have listened.

Most people tended to have opinions on what Kira should and shouldn't do. Very loud and very wrong opinions. She guessed it was just what happened when you were the living product of some strange Jekyll-and-Hyde-esque experiment. People tended to see you less as a person and more as a test subject. Something to throw ideas at, rather than someone to help. She had learnt to ignore those opinions.

Steve's opinion, though, she respected. He was one of the only people who understood, at least part of, what Kira had experienced. Being thrust into an entirely new world with completely different norms was a frequent topic of discussion between them. She knew he meant well. He just wanted a normal life for her, after everything with Department X and HYDRA. Well, as normal a life as an Avenger could have.

Which is why Kira had been sitting alone, at the bar, for the last couple of hours. His only requirement had been that she attend. He said nothing about moping into a margarita. One of many. She silently cursed whoever took away her ability to get drunk with the Super Soldier Serum. Not even Thor's alien whiskey could get her tipsy. If it did, maybe then she could stop thinking about everything on her mind. Especially those missing twins.

Nat had insisted on bartending at the party, so she'd been making the margaritas for her, handing them over with an odd look. Kira assumed she was just worried about the drinks spilling on the clothes she'd borrowed from her last minute: a pretty green dress, that definitely fit Nat better than it did Kira, and matching heels. She made a mental note to agree to the next time she wanted to drag her along to get "real human clothes" (Nat's words, not hers).

From her seat at the furthest end of the bar, she watched as Sam won another game of pool, beating Steve once again. She smiled to herself. Kira had left Sam's side a while ago. She had initially stuck to him because he was the more extroverted of the two. After a while, she started to worry about coming off as a bit too clingy and quickly extracted herself when she noticed her mood starting to sour, not wanting to ruin his night. At least one of them was enjoying themselves.

Nat's eyes started to burn a hole in the side of her head. "What?" Kira sighed, still watching the room.

"Oh, nothing. It's totally normal for you to down 10 drinks in as many minutes whilst forlornly watching others enjoy themselves," she replied.

"Like you're any better." Kira turned to face her. "I know why you're at the bar too. Trying to convince everyone you're just showing off," she hit back. It was true Nat was weirdly competent at bartending, though. She had learnt decades ago to blend in at a club for a hit on some obscure politician, back in Department X. It was one of the only times all three of them had gone on a mission together. It was also the first and last time all three of them had tried to escape on a mission together. "You hate this shit just as much as I do."

Nat was unfazed at being read like that by Kira. With anyone else, she would've been taken aback, but Kira had always had a scary good ability to read people, so she was used to it. She'd regained the ability almost as soon as she'd regained her memories. "At least I'm discreet about it. You perpetually look like you're hiding something," Nat said. "Could you try to pretend you're having fun?"

"I can't," Kira almost whispered, her brow furrowing. "You know I didn't want to come. My danger sense has screaming at me since Tony brought up he was throwing this stupid party. I'm so sure something's going to go wrong."

~ ✺ ~

Maybe all those margaritas did do something, maybe she was taking Nat's advice or, more likely, Kira was more comfortable now all the strangers had finally filtered out of the room, at some early hour of the morning.

Only Maria, Dr Cho, and her teammates were left. Her danger sense - a sixth sense she'd discovered she had when testing the difference between her and Steve's serums once with Bruce - had also quietened down, and she could start to relax. They had all ended up, slightly tipsy and very tired, around one of the tables in the seating area; some standing, some sitting on the couches and others sprawled on the floor. The room was a mess. On their table alone there were a dozen empty glasses and beer bottles. And Thor's hammer. Of course, Clint had decided to take its mere existence as a challenge. That was how they found themselves in a hammer-lifting competition.

Clint, Tony, Rhodey and Bruce had all had a go, to no avail. When Steve tried, Kira could've sworn it budged slightly, but he gave up too. Nevermind.

"Sam?" he offered as he sat back down.

"Absolutely not, do I look crazy to you?" Sam turned away and hid his face in Kira's shoulder as she tried not to burst out laughing. "Save me from him, Ki. He's gonna embarrass me in front of a God," he complained.

"Nat?"

"That's not a question I need answered."

"Oh, come on! Ki?"

"Think I already know the answer to that question, Steve," Kira answered from the floor.

"Listen," Tony interjected, turning back to Thor. "All deference to the Man Who Wouldn't Be King, but it's rigged."

"You bet your ass," Clint mumbled miserably into his beer, still sore about not being able to lift the hammer.

"The handle's imprinted, right? Like a security code. 'Whosoever is carrying Thor's fingerprints' is, I think, the literal translation?" Tony continued.

"Yes, well that's a very, very interesting theory. I have a simpler one." Thor stood and grabbed the hammer with ease, flipping it. "You're all not worthy," he declared, smugly.

Everyone groaned. "Oh, come on," someone protested to the right of her. Kira was pretty sure she heard someone booing to her left. Steve just laughed from his seat on the couch. Pretentious little shit, she thought fondly. Thor's dramatics always managed to brighten her mood. Not enough to get rid of the silent alarm bells that were currently still going off in her head, but enough to ignore them.

Suddenly, they were interrupted by a loud screeching noise. Everyone's hands instinctively went to cover their ears but it faded just as quickly as it started. It had sounded like microphone feedback, so Kira assumed there was something wrong with the sound system. Her danger sense flared back up, though, as Tony pulled out one of his devices to see what was wrong. So much for being relaxed.

There was a clanging sound, like something made of metal trudging towards them. Kira and Steve locked eyes before everyone else heard it. "Worthy..." it whispered and she realised it was standing right in front of them. They all stood, slowly. Warily. Everyone was immediately on alert. Kira realised it was one of Tony's Legionnaire robots. It definitely wasn't supposed to be doing this. "No. How could you be worthy? You're all killers." How could it understand what we'd been saying?

"Stark," Steve warned.

Kira's eyes never left the bot. Something is badly wrong. She discretely lowered her hand, hovering over the gun she always kept on her, in her thigh holster.

"JARVIS," Tony tried, frantically. It wasn't like him to be so panicked. What has he done?

"I'm sorry, I was asleep. Or... I was a-dream," it rambled on, not making any sense.

"Reboot Legionnaire OS. We got a buggy suit," Tony continued, speaking over it.

She saw out of the corner of her eye, Sam slowly leaning over to get a hand on Steve's shield, which had been resting behind one of the couches.

"There was a terrible noise. And I was tangled in... strings. I had to kill the other guy. He was a good guy."

That stopped them in their tracks.

"You killed someone?" Steve asked.

"Wouldn't have been my first call," it replied in an oddly human way. "But, down in the real world, we're faced with ugly choices."

"Who sent you?" Thor was clearly getting tired of beating around the bush.

It played a recording instead of answering him. "I see a suit of armor around the world." It was Tony's voice. Wait, what?

"Ultron!" Bruce exclaimed, surprised.

Kira's head spun. What had these two been doing behind their backs? Maybe this is what I get for hiding my search for Jamie, the voice in her head rudely supplied.

Maria quietly took off the safety of her gun.

"In the flesh," Ultron replied. "Or, no, not yet. Not this... chrysalis. But I'm ready. I'm on a mission."

Thor gripped his hammer tighter.

"What mission?" Nat asked.

"Peace in our time."

Kira already had her gun drawn when the bots smashed through the walls.

~ ✺ ~

Her head hurt, badly.

Kira had gotten a fairly large cut on her forehead after being thrown into a glass table by one of the Legionnaire bots. Sam had helped her to tape it closed, though, so it wasn't bothering her as much anymore. No, Ultron was the main issue. His speech kept echoing in her mind. "You want to protect the world, but you don't want it to change," he had said. "How is humanity saved if it's not allowed to evolve? There's only one path to peace: The Avengers' extinction."

As it turned out, as well as attacking them, making the speech, and then escaping through the internet, Ultron had dipped into all the data they held, deleted their work, destroyed JARVIS, taken Loki's sceptre, and might be trying to access nukes. It was just too much information to receive at 3 am. That was all on top of Thor nearly strangling Tony. Kira was surprised her head only hurt and hadn't exploded yet.

Unlike Thor, she wasn't upset though. Shocked, sure, but not upset. Frankly, she didn't think she had a leg to stand on. She was hiding something from the rest of the team too, except her secret would only benefit a small handful of people, not the whole world like Tony genuinely believed his would, so she had been easier on him and hadn't said much. Actually, she hadn't said much at all since the attack, much to Sam's confusion. She wasn't much of a talker usually, but she wasn't the silent type either. She told him it was because she hadn't been more insistent about her danger sense going off. He said it wasn't her fault. She still felt like shit.

They had all dispersed after that, quickly scrambling to find Ultron before he completed whatever 'mission' he was on. Tony had advised Dr Cho to go straight home to South Korea and stay safe. She gladly took it. It was morning when the news of Strucker's suspicious death reached them. Suspicious because of the clear gunshot wounds littering his body and the word 'PEACE' written on the wall in his blood. It was also then they discovered the Strucker-sized hole in their data, which hadn't been there yesterday.

As they were relegated to going through all their physical files, one by one, Maria updated them on Ultron's other movements. He had been raiding numerous labs with the help of the Maximoffs, the enhanced twins Steve had met on the Avengers' last mission. Guess I don't have to worry about where they are anymore. Turns out 'enhanced' meant Wanda Django Maximoff, the sister, could mess with people's heads and Pietro Django Maximoff, the brother, could move so fast he couldn't be seen. Of course, this wasn't going to be easy, Kira thought.

"Where do we even start? These people are literally the scum of the Earth," Kira sighed, mostly to herself, staring at the mountain of files on Strucker and his associates. She picked up and started to skim the first one in front of her.

"Wait. I know that guy, from back in the day. He operates off the African coast, black market arms," Tony said, peeking at the picture of the man in her file.

Kira and Steve both gave him the same disappointed look. "Really?" Steve asked.

"Ugh, it's like you've doubled, old man," Tony groaned, glancing between the two of them. "There are conventions, alright? You meet people, I didn't sell him anything." Kira passed him the file. "Yeah, Ulysses Klaue. He was talking about finding something new, a game changer."

"What's this?" Thor asked, from Tony's other side, pointing to a scar in one of the photos. "Is that a... brand? Banner?"

"Uh... yeah. It's a word in an African dialect meaning 'thief'," he explained after identifying it on his computer. "Just in a much less friendly way."

"What dialect?" Sam asked.

"Wakandan."

Tony's face dropped. "If this guy got out of Wakanda with some of their trade goods..." he trailed off, turning to Steve.

"I thought your father said he got the last of it?"

"The last of what? What comes out of Wakanda?" Nat interrupted, impatiently.

Tony was quiet for a second. "The strongest metal on earth," he sighed. "If this is Ultron's mission, if he's planning on building himself a body out of Vibranium, we're fucked." He sounded defeated.

"No." Steve looked Tony in the eye. "No, we're not. We still have time. Where is this guy now?"

"Should be somewhere near South Africa."

~ ✺ ~

[lady-phasma]

Other fandoms masterlist

Gradually cross posting my fics from AO3

Main masterlist

The Sandman (written in first person reader)

Patience Rewarded Part 1 - Morpheus Returns Part 2 - The Gathered Storm

Marvel:

Frank Castle Battered and Broken - The Punisher (may become a series) - Frank Castle x fem!reader

Bucky Barnes Зимний Солдат (Zimniy Soldát) - Part 1 (written in first person reader) You can't ignore it - Part 2 (not in first person because I am chaotic)

Daryl Dixon - The Walking Dead

Happiness at the end of the world Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 - in progress

The Mandalorian - Din Djarin x Togruta OFC

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 - cross posting soon Chapter 3 - cross posting soon Chapter 4 - cross posting soon Chapter 5 - cross posting soon

More coming soon from quite a few fandoms...

Main masterlist

[hiraethblack22]

Fire and Ice. (Bucky x ofc)

Here I am with the continuation of the story Breathe Underwater. Your responses have inspired me to write a mini-series called "Fire and Ice". However, we begin the story at the moment when our characters meet.

MASTERLIST of FIRE AND ICE: HERE!

IMPORTANT: I won't use Y\n but the lead character will be given a name and will be a fully formed character. Set in a time where everyone is still alive and Bucky is free of the hydra.

Warnings: violence, blood, torture, and manipulation. Vulgar language. The story will contain adult content. Probably a whole lot of Smut.

Summary: Thirteen is a HYDRA pawn, a soldier, a spy and an assassin. A wraith. Chosen because of her powers and transformed into the perfect weapon. (enchanted!reader) What happens when her mission becomes locating and eliminating The Winter Soldier?

-> CHAPTER TWO <-

CHAPTER ONE: Exit Music (for a film)

“What do you think happens now?”

A voice broke through the fog of images that were plaguing my mind.

We had sat in silence, my feet naked in the lake's cold water, as the house slowly emptied behind our backs. I had walked away absent-mindedly, unseen by the procession of family members within the old family home, dropping onto the dirt as soon as I reached it, my black funeral clothes still on, staring at the sun slowly sinking into the water.

My brother crouched beside me—hands on his knees, head bowed down. The familiar colour of his blond hair stung painfully in my chest—the same shade as our mother's. It was a weird feeling seeing him like that; Michael was always composed, elegant, and kept himself as a royal would.  As I watched him, I couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind. Seeing him vulnerable, without the usual stubbornness that bore his eyebrows and his chin always high and spoiled look in his eyes, it was like seeing him without a mask, seeing him through different eyes, and made me feel closer to him. As we sat there together, I felt a sense of unity between us that I hadn't felt in years, and for the first time, it felt like our relationship could only get better.

My brother was a copy of her. Our father used to joke about it before he died, saying that Michael had been too busy growing up clinging to our mother’s skirt, which had shielded me from her, preventing me from taking after her even a little bit. I resembled my father with my brown hair and eyes and the slight nose hump beneath the freckles. As a child, it was hard to witness— confining me to watching their love from the corners of the rooms and behind impenetrable doorways. It was as if a trench had been built between us, and thus I had grown up with my father and with his interests in horses and golf, yet part of me did wonder whether he did it out of pity or out of guilt, the fault of having a spouse who preferred the male heir. Then, as the years passed, I discovered I could occupy a different space in the lives of our family. And that was it. 

“When we die,” Michael followed, his eyes never leaving his hands, “where do you think we go?”

I shrugged. I had no energy left in me to speak or even think. But I also didn't want to drop into the catatonic state I was in last time. “Our father would say that when a person dies, they go to a beautiful place.”

“Do you believe it?”

I nodded, taking his rough hands in mine. "He’d tell us to stick together."

“My beautiful place is here. With you.” Michael stared into my eyes, and I had never seen a more resolute look on his face. I felt my heart swell with love and gratitude. His words echoed in my mind, and I couldn't help but smile. I knew that no matter what happened, we would always have each other's backs. And in that moment, I knew that there was nowhere else I'd rather be than right there with him. "We will be together forever, sister. Trust me.” He kissed my hand, and we went back to watching the sunset. A soft smile curled my lips. We were going to be fine.

***

“Thirteen!”

A blow to my stomach made me jump, desperately gasping for air. My eyes shot open just in time to see the tip of the boot flashing straight towards my nose. I raised my arms, barely blocking the blow to my face. The force of the impact knocked me backward, slamming my back against the bars of the prison cell. Gasping for air, I struggled to calm my pounding heart and better acknowledge my surroundings. The stale, musty smell of the cell filled my nostrils. I tried to stand up, but my legs felt weak and unsteady. I stumbled to my knees, supporting myself with my hands against the filthy floor.

And there it was—the sad, cruel, bitchy reality. 

The man laughed viciously, clapping a hand on his chest—right over the symbol engraved in his dark uniform. Hydra. The cureless poison, the undetectable illness you couldn't feel, until it killed you. 

“Your time has come.”

The sweet haze of the dream vanished in a blink, drained by the cruel truth of life. The man in uniform fisted a hand around my hair, hauling me to my feet.

“You’re such a delicious thing, I almost feel sorry for you,” he said, closing the distance between us. The liquor on his breath made my empty stomach clench in disgust. He passed his tongue on his lips like an animal trying to seize its prey-his eyes dark and cruel. I struggled against his grip, but he was too strong. I felt sick with fear and revulsion. “Almost.” 

He yanked my hair, dragging me behind him like a broken doll. Like every week, the time had arrived. I tried to steel myself for the inevitable, but my body trembled with dread. I felt a scream building in my throat, but it died before it could escape. This was my life now—a never-ending cycle of pain and misery at the hands of monsters who took pleasure in my suffering.

I gazed at the cell beside mine. Inside, the woman huddled on herself, her eyes wide with terror. I knew what was coming. The man would take her next when they had finished with me, just as it had happened so many times before.  

She was grasping the bars, tears streaming down her dirty cheeks. The terror in her eyes mirrored my own. Her lips trembled, trying a few times before the words broke free from her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she hissed, her voice broken and rough. 

Before I could even think about whispering back that everything would be fine, we were in the corridor, walking fast towards the stairs. The darkness was the sole thing I had known down in the cells of Hydra, except for the only occasion when they sent me out there for a mission; but, even if I was outside, breathing fresh air, watching the blue sky, or feeling the comforting warmth of the sun on my skin, I yearned for the darkness of the cells once more, where I knew it was me suffering and not the people I was sent after. It was a familiar feeling, one that I had grown accustomed to over the years. The cries and pleas of the people I was sent after were too much to bear. In the cells, it was just me and my nightmares. 

One after the other, the cells held men, women, and children. All of them were scared and huddled together for warmth and comfort, clinging to each other to survive. Victims of a fucked-up system. 

As I passed by each cell, I couldn't help but wonder how many more innocent lives would be lost before someone would come and save us. Even when the cruel voice in my head screamed that nobody would come for us, the world had forgotten us. I remembered the day a mother was taken away from her daughter, dragged to one of these rooms, and never came out. Her screams echoed through the halls as she was dragged away. The girl clung to me, begging me to save her mommy. It broke my heart to know there was nothing I could do but offer comfort and promises of a better tomorrow. They were lies; they came for her some days later, and I'd never seen her again.

Some soldiers had tried to escape and revolt against the captors, but it was all pointless. They were made an example of; I still heard their screams, their prayers, and their cries in the silence of the night. 

I was hauled into a room. The lights were so bright that I shielded my watering eyes, but the unforgiving strength in my hair didn't pay any attention to my pain, especially not when he was going to inflict much, much, more.

“Place it on the chair and power up the machine.” 

I cried out, trying to plant my feet firmly against the ground, trying to claw the hand that was dragging me to the chair. He simply laughed, handling me like a temperamental child.  I could feel the fear rising in my chest, making my heart hammer in my ears. I knew what was coming next—the machine, the cold metal in my neck, and the head splitting ache. The thought of it made me shudder. But there was no escape. 

 “Come on, don’t be difficult.” The man threw me onto the chair. Still laughing as he fastened my wrists to the chair's armrests and wrapped the belt around my head. Another pair of hands tied my legs to the chair. The man pressed his fingertips on my face, stretching the corners of my lips. “Give me a smile.” 

I was trapped, bound to the chair, and not even allowed to close my eyes in defeat. I couldn’t fight; I couldn’t speak, but they laughed as I cried and screamed, praying in my mind that someone would come and rescue me. 

The science team tortured me with the promise to murder my brother if I fought back. Treating my sorrow as their own private, amusing show. The experiments were never ending. I didn’t know what they were looking for or what they were trying to shape my mind into. The only things I knew since they had captured me were hunger, pain, and regret, as they had dressed me in their uniform and forced me to commit atrocities.  

“You are a special one, Thirteen.” A woman appeared before me, holding a syringe. The liquid in it was shining brightly, its warmth moving and waving around the syringe like flames. “We gave you this power, and you have tamed it. The previous twelve could not endure its existence in their organisms, not even for a single moment, but you..." She smiled as if fascinated—her eyes shone in a weird light; was it excitement? Or was it the familiar grip of a delusional mind? "You have hosted the flames for years, gracing the world with their wonder.” I watched the syringe come closer and closer, until I felt the familiar pinching of the needle. As the liquid coursed through my veins, I felt a sudden rush of energy and clarity. The world around me seemed to come alive in a way that I had never experienced before. 

The world grew louder; I could now hear the buzzing noise of the computers, the soft breathing of the guards standing all around the room, the stable heartbeat of the science woman before me, and the scent of the food she had eaten. My mind raced, and I struggled to keep my thoughts in order. “Bending the world under the fist of Hydra.”

They made me steal, and lie, destroy governments, cancelling entire cities from the maps. Kill and slaughter. Whatever was that they injected in my veins, it turned me into their puppet. They pointed and I attacked, without whispering, without questions.  Relapsing my life into a routine of lessons that made me more lethal—Magic and dancing alternating with combat, weaponry, poisons, and construction of explosives. And yet, all of that was pointless when it all came down to them. I became clay in their hands, to be shaped according to their sick desires. They had beaten me until I couldn't move, broke my bones until I was nothing more than a pile of shattered flesh and bones. And then they implanted thing thing inside of me, something dark and foreign that filled me with bloodlust.

The pain was excruciating; every inch of my body felt like it was on fire. If I tried to fight them, it could mean the end for the only person left in this world who meant anything to me. So I lay there, broken and defeated, as the pain threatened to swallow me whole. 

Michael’s safety had given me the strength to stare quietly as they beat, broke, and shattered my body and mind. Letting them put this thing inside of me. I had no chance of escaping—not when it could risk the life of the last remaining person I had loved.  

I felt reality shift. The world spun faster. The uncomfortable sensation of my body turning inside out. The woman before me—whose name I’d never had the privilege to acknowledge—she split into two before becoming one again, swaying to the left and then to the right in a constant waltz that made me want to claw my eyes out of my head.  She smiled and turned serious a couple of times, watching my trembling body with fascination. “You made me a monster.”

“No, thirteen.” She pinched my chin. Her eyes shone in a red light, piercing into my soul, before returning to their usual blue shade. I tried to speak, but my throat felt tight and dry. I couldn't find the words to express the fear and confusion that consumed me. The woman's grip on my chin tightened, and I winced in pain. “I made you into an asset.”  

My mouth parted, quivering over the frantic breathing pattern that possessed my body. My thoughts ran feverishly in my head, confusing words and sounds rooted in my soul, speaking cruel words in dozens of different languages.  

“Thirteen?” 

The voice echoed in my head, clinging to the roots of my being. 

"Ready to comply."

Gloved hands emerged before me, so white that they seemed to shimmer in the neon lights. I was freed from the restraint that kept me confined to the chair, allowing me to rise to my feet. I rolled my shoulders, stretching my neck—not because I felt any pain; I felt nothing at all—but in preparation for the mission. 

“New mission. Locate and kill,” she said, presenting a photograph before me. “The Winter Soldier.” 

I need to thank everyone who commented and liked the previous part and the ones who asked to be tagged in this next part.

It's certainly not what you expected to read, but we'll get to that specific passage in a couple of chapters. I wished to give you a deeper insight into the characters and the plot.  @thefandomplace @bonkyandsteebluver @billihill - let me know if you still wish to be tagged to the next parts!

This is a test chapter, to see how readers react to the story and to allow me to figure out in which direction to proceed. Let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged in later parts!

[lightning-writes]

good heart (faulty machine of a man) - masterpost

PINTEREST / AO3

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CHAPTERS | 17/30 in progress

September 2 - (AO3)

September 9 - (AO3)

September 16 - (AO3)

September 23 - (AO3)

September 30 - (AO3)

October 7 - (AO3)

October 14 - (AO3)

October 21 - (AO3)

October 28 - (AO3)

November 4 - (AO3)

Texting Interlude - (AO3)

November 11 (Part 1) - (AO3)

November 11 (Part 2) - (AO3)

November 18 - (AO3)

November 24 (Part 1) - (AO3)

November 24 (Part 2) - (AO3)

December 2 - (AO3)

December 9 (Part 1) - (AO3)

December 9 (Part 2) - (AO3)

December 16 (Part 1) - (AO3)

December 16 (Part 2) - (AO3)

fic summary: bucky meets someone at therapy gen tags: post endgame, pre tfatws, hurt/comfort, slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, canon divergent, canon compliant, au gen gen warnings: pstd, panic attacks, character death, angst

FMOAM TAGS

fmoam gen

fmoam: bucky / bucky barnes

fmoam: rue / ruby david

fmoam: other character

[dreaming-in-color]

please reblog so I can get as many votes as possible 😭😭

[donottouchredbutton]

Endlessly Falling

joaquin torres x sunshine!reader/ofc

3k words

she was falling, and there was only one person she trusted to catch her.

set in the same universe as this fic

warnings: angst, fear, canon-typical violence but i think it's pretty vague, reader/ofc has a fear of heights, idk let me know if i'm missing anything

note: idk if this is any good, i wrote it in like four hours unedited while i was trying to distract myself from burnout from work. feedback is always welcome :) also let me know if you notice anything familiar about sunshine's backstory... idk maybe there's something there, maybe there's not. let me know what you think!

She was running for her life. Again. She was really getting tired of this shit. 

She remembered a few weeks ago when the worst thing she had to worry about was getting her essays turned in on time, emailing her professors, and working on her thesis, back when she was just a grad student. Since meeting Joaquin, she found herself in trouble a lot more than she ever expected to be. 

That wasn’t to say this was the first time she’s ever had to run for her life, or that meeting Joaquin was the start of her getting into trouble. Or that meeting Joaquin was her first time helping a superhero. No, she had plenty of experience with this sort of thing. She remembered when she was a teenager the few (multiple) times when her dad’s work followed him home (literally) and having to hide or having to flee her own home just so he could take care of it. Terrifying as it was, she had learned to be good at finding the best hiding spots on the fly. And she still remembered when she was nineteen being trapped in a cage with a monster (who, to be fair, was her dad, but we won’t go into the specifics this time), with the intention of being mauled to death alongside a woman she barely knew. And just a year later, having to travel halfway across the world to help a superhero with identity issues to stop a cult and rescue her dad from said cult (her dad had a bad habit of getting himself into trouble, but he would always tell her that her uncle was even worse). 

Yeah. This wasn’t her first rodeo. And she was positive it wouldn’t be her last, either. 

But she sure as hell didn’t miss having to do this. 

Sam and Joaquin had both understood and agreed initially that they needed her help if they were going to stop this underground terrorist group. Bucky had been on the fence about it at first, thinking her too nice and innocent to get involved, but once she had proved herself in a fight the first time he had realized he had jumped the gun on judging her. She was a formidable opponent while still being able to maintain her happy nature and her positive, love-for-life attitude. 

Which was why she found herself in this position for the first time in years. She hadn’t meant to cause a distraction, she had just been sent by the men on a reconnaissance mission to one of their underground meetings while the three of them tried to take out their base of operations nearby. Even to her, the meeting was much bigger than she had been expecting, and the sound of the men updating her on their progress through her earpiece was only confirmation: they were a much bigger threat than they had initially believed. She had been listening to one of the leaders of the group as he slowly but surely began riling everyone up, his voice raising as he spoke to them about forcing order to the world and subjecting the people who had no care for them. He was nearly shouting at that point, and it was honestly beginning to frighten her. She was so ensnared by his words that the sound of Sam yelling through the earpiece completely threw her off her guard. 

“GET DOWN! IT’S A TRAP!”

The sound of gunshots on the other end of her earpiece caused her to gasp in fear, which caused her to slap her hand over her mouth in dread. She was scared for her friends, but she was also terrified at the sudden silence that happened in the room next to her after she did so. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as what was surely only a few seconds felt like years as she awaited what would happen. She didn’t dare breathe as she waited, her back pressed against the wall to make herself as small as possible. 

“Someone’s here with us. Take care of it.”

The leader’s words were just loud enough for her to hear, but it was more than enough to set her off at a sprint to get out of there. 

She had been running for what had felt like forever when she finally thought to check in with the others to make sure they were okay, and to find out what the hell happened. 

“What the hell happened?” she shouted through the earpiece. 

“They knew we were coming! It was a setup!” Sam shouted back. He and Bucky were fighting off terrorists left and right as they themselves tried to get out of the base. Their initial plan had been to find the leaders at the base and to either a) reason with them and get them to come willingly (Sam’s idea) or b) stop them by any means necessary (Bucky’s idea), but the three men had been met with nearly an entire army once they got there like they knew they were coming. The place had been booby trapped of all things, tipping the group off so that they opened fire seconds later. They all knew that if they were in trouble, she would be too. “Get outta there, now!”

“I’m trying!”

And she was. Unfortunately for her, the place was a maze, and with about ten angry men chasing after her, it was hard for her to focus on where all of the hallways led to rather than just trying to get away from them. Her fear was making it hard to think, and luckily it was making it hard to think about the fear itself. She just needed to get away. 

The sound of Joaquin’s voice in her ear immediately began to uncloud her mind. “Find a way to go up! Stairs, ladder, window, anything! I’ll come find you!”

She wasn’t able to think about how he would be able to do so, but she listened to him anyway. She trusted him enough to believe he was telling the truth. 

Truthfully, Joaquin didn’t know if he was. He had split from Sam and Bucky once they had opened fire, Sam telling him to fly out of there to find their superior and tell them all they had learned about the group. He often thought about what it would be like to jump out as Falcon, but he wasn’t exactly able to reflect on those expectations when he was in the middle of a life or death situation. He thought once he did so that he was in the clear, but there had been a couple of helicopters right outside waiting for him. So, they had air support. Of fucking course they did. 

Joaquin was sure that their superior would get an earful from Sam once they were finally on the clear (if they ever got to that point). He was doing his best to take out the people shooting at him from the helicopters, making sure they stayed focused on him so they wouldn’t start shooting elsewhere, but the entire time his focus was elsewhere. He couldn’t keep his mind off of her, and he was riddled with guilt. 

Joaquin was the one who had fought so hard to convince Sam and Bucky that she could help them on this mission. While they had both known she could handle herself, they were hesitant to let her go into the field with them, especially on a mission like this. She would have to get about as close as she physically could to this terrorist group without them finding out she was there, and they weren’t willing to risk her getting hurt or worse if something went wrong. It was the last thing Joaquin ever wanted, but he saw how hard she fought to convince them. He saw her conviction and determination, and more than anything, he saw that she truly cared. She just wanted to help, and Joaquin knew that. She was running for her life right now because he was the one to convince them to let her help. 

She was in danger because of him. 

He was right about her needing to find a way up. She had found a door that led her to a staircase all the way up to the roof. She took a quick glance over her shoulder to see how close the men were, finding them far away enough for her to be able to lock the door behind her. If she wasn’t running for her life, she would’ve thought about how it definitely seemed like a safety issue for the door to even have a lock, but she was more concerned about buying herself at least a minute or two to get to the top. She didn’t look back again after she locked the door and began to race up the stairs, not until she heard the sound of a gunshot blowing the door open. The information that they did have guns with them scared her more than she thought it would. They liked the chase, and they didn’t want the end to be quick if they did catch her. The thought made her blood run cold, and a new wave of adrenaline filled her as she continued to run. 

Once she reached the roof, once again locking the door behind her to buy herself some time, she looked out to try to find Joaquin anywhere nearby, but he was nowhere to be found. She braced herself as she looked over the edge of the building she was on, and the realization of just how far up she was was quick to set in. She hadn’t realized how long the staircase was nor how far up she had run, but the sight of the city what looked like miles beneath her caused her heart to beat faster for a completely different reason. She could handle most things—monsters, cults, running for her life. Heights weren’t one of those things. 

“Joaquin,” she said. She tried to steady the tremble in her voice, trying to control her breathing. 

“I’m on my way!” he shouted back, trying to dodge the helicopter that was currently shooting at him. He was not on his way, but he needed to be soon if he wanted any chance of getting to her in time. 

The sound of the men chasing her banging on the door to the roof made her jolt, dread filling her veins like venom. They were throwing themselves against the door to get it open. Unsuccessfully, sure, but the knowledge that they had the means to get the door open with their weapons made her believe that this was just a sadistic scare tactic. The thought made her sick. 

“Joaquin,” she warned. She was unable to hide the fear she felt from her voice. Even she could hear her voice shake. 

So could Joaquin, and he knew they were both running out of time. Taking out the pilot in the final helicopter, he set the thrusters of his wings to full power before jetting off to where she was. 

“I’m on my way!” he shouted once again, but he knew that he wouldn’t be there in enough time. Thinking fast, he added, “You’re gonna have to jump!”

Her stomach dropped at the thought. “I can’t,” she whispered. But she knew she was running out of options. The men chasing her would get tired of playing with her, and in seconds they would be out there with her. She’d have nowhere else to go. Her hands were already shaking as the reality of what she had to do was setting in. 

And she was right. The sound of the door to the roof being blown open made her jump, and the sight of the men closing in on her filled her with a fear she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“JOAQUIN!”

“JUMP!”

She didn’t think. She ran to the edge of the building and jumped, right before they could grab her. 

She’s fallen before. She’s fallen out of tall trees when she was little, her dad constantly scolding her for climbing trees when she knew she might fall, but that’s why she always did it—to get better at climbing without falling. She’s jumped off of high platforms, trying to get down from where she was to try to help someone who needed it. She’s been thrown off of the side of a building before, but even then that was done when she was unconscious. This was something different. Being in free fall for so long, that sinking feeling in her gut never leaving but slowly getting worse as she seemed to fall closer to the ground in slow motion. The air whipped at her as if punishing her for jumping, her fear only growing as it felt like she would be endlessly falling. 

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think to breathe. She couldn’t think, her mind somewhere up in the clouds that she seemed to remember falling through when she jumped. Her eyes were dripping with tears she couldn’t stop as the cool air burned them as she went. Another punishment, she thought. The air was thin, too, choking her up even more. She couldn’t find her voice, though if she did, she wouldn’t have been able to think about calling for Joaquin again. She couldn’t think about whether he would catch her in time. She just had to continue falling. 

Joaquin’s heart raced as he did, his sights set on her as he flew to catch her. He could hear the fear in her voice when she said she couldn’t jump, it had been clear as day to him that she was afraid to. He hadn’t wanted to make her do it, but he knew she had to. And he knew he would rather die than let her hit the ground. He wouldn’t let her get hurt again. He would make sure of it. 

When he was finally close enough, his arms reaching for her, Joaquin felt time stop. He couldn’t think. The only thing he could focus on as he reached for her was her eyes. Those eyes he had seen could hold such light and happiness as he had come to know her, those same eyes that were squeezed shut from fear and wet with tears he knew she couldn’t stop. Once he was close enough, he wrapped his arms around her tightly, never daring to let go. 

Once she felt him surrounding her, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, aware enough to not choke him but clutching onto him like her life depended on it, because it did. There was nothing that would get her to let go. And now that he was holding her, she could finally feel herself breathe again. 

They were both silent as he flew them away from the building, away from all of the bad men who wished them harm, away from where she felt for a moment she was falling to her death. The pit in her stomach from falling was gone, replaced with something else she couldn’t place. She still felt sick feeling her insides shaken so much, but it wasn’t just that. She felt a pull inside her, not in her stomach but maybe in her chest. She couldn’t know for sure, still barely able to think or process what was going on. The only thing she knew for sure at that moment was that she felt well and truly safe wrapped up in Joaquin’s arms. 

Joaquin finally landed them on the roof of another building, much much shorter than the one she had jumped from and miles away. With the way she was clutching onto his back, he knew she could use a moment to stand on her own two legs and catch her breath. Once his feet touched the ground, he slowly eased her down as well, taking care to handle her gently for fear of causing her any more grief. His arms didn’t leave her even as she got her footing, nor did they when she leaned heavily against him once she was standing. She was still gripping him for dear life, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. He was sure he was holding her in a similar way. 

“Are you okay?” he asked after a few minutes. He always made sure that she was, and if she wasn’t, he always did what he could to help. 

“…Yeah,” she answered slowly, barely audible if it weren’t for her mouth being so close to his ear. “Just… need a minute.” 

Joaquin knew that they didn’t have a minute. He should’ve already been with his superior by now, finishing up with the debrief as they waited for Sam and Bucky to return as well. But he wasn’t concerned with any of that right now. The only thing he cared about was the woman in his arms, shaking like a leaf as she tried to calm down. For her, he would make the time. 

He readjusted his arms around her so that he was hugging her instead, one arm around her waist while the other came up to her shoulders, his hand holding her head against him and stroking her hair. He tried to steady his breathing in a way that she could follow, willing his own heart rate to slow down as he tried to help her calm down. 

She wasn’t the only one who had felt like they were endlessly falling. The only difference was, his had been slow and steady, hardly noticing it was happening until it hit him all at once. And he knew he would fall again and again if it meant getting to hold her like this. 

[aikaterini-drag]

Dropping this eye candy to get your attention

[eponastory]

I think I've read all of the really good Bucky/OFC fics that I could find.

I've read them all, so now I'm writing my own because I have to do something different. Sort of.

Maybe.

AHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Any fic recs would be good.

[darsynia]

Could you do a Bucky/OC one based off of the phrase "How the hell are you here right now?"

This got smutty AND all up in the feels. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: “I won’t go back,” he says. His chest feels as hard as the vibranium that has built this place of refuge. Lyza is no foe, but she’s usually paid by one. Length/Warnings: 931 words / Oral sex, male receiving MINORS DNI Fill: @allcapsbingo square 'the 1970's'

Note: I think this story kind of fell flat when I first posted, because the implications of Bucky/OC and the previous summary implied some kind of relationship that would preclude any other. Lyza is definitely not a girlfriend, hardly a lover. This is a story about Bucky realizing the difference between his HYDRA life and the Avenger he's becoming.

Oath of the Betrayed One

When he’s deep in cryo, he dreams of her.

He was awake a lot in the seventies, enough that his handlers worried he’d figure out what he was missing, so they’d found/hired/recruited Lyza cel Tradat to soothe him. A prize. Bucky knew it wasn’t her real name-- hell, ‘cel Tradat’ means ‘betrayed one,’ and she’d once told him that Lyza meant ‘oath.’

Bucky very much enjoyed fucking the oath of the betrayed one.

How he was able to remember her, he doesn’t know, but he figures it has to do with the way human memory works. His dreams of Lyza reinforced her reality, and now he’s standing in a field in Wakanda, and she’s walking toward him.

Except, she can’t be, because she’s every bit as wiry and beautiful as she had been in ‘73, when he’d committed an assassination every few months and came back to weeks on a beach with her before the ice again.

“How the hell are you here right now?” he asks when she’s close enough to catch the words. His arm isn’t even here right now, but Lyza is. She’s got on a swimsuit coverup over tiny white shorts and a tube top no one’s worn for decades. No bra, no shoes, too much eyeshadow, too much hair, that’s Lyza.

“I’m not. You’re dreaming again,” she says with an artful shrug. The fringed silk slips off of her shoulder, and Bucky reaches out to touch her, half expecting his hand to pass right through. 

It doesn’t. She’s warm, vital, and he shivers. If she’s right, why is she right? He doesn’t remember why he’d let that happen again, not now that he’s free of HYDRA, not now that he’s got Steve back. He trusts the people of Wakanda, and their trust means the world to him.

“Shhhh,” Lyza says, resting both forearms on his shoulders like she always does. She smells like sunshine.

“I won’t go back,” he says. His chest feels as hard as the vibranium that has built this place of refuge. Lyza is no foe, but she’s usually paid by one. For the first time, Bucky wonders if she’s some kind of construct, if those lazy pleasures they’d shared in the sand were a dream, too.

Was her name a hint, all along?

“You don’t have to, I promise,” Lyza says, trailing a languid hand down his chest toward his waistband. “This is another reward.”

He catches her hand as she starts on his buckle, squeezes hard. She doesn’t flinch, because she isn’t, can’t be real.

“Who sent you?” Bucky grits out. He’s a weapon who wields himself, now, but for all his bravado, he fears the answer to his question.

Lyza sinks down to her knees, head tipped back, unafraid as always. “You did. As a goodbye. A goodbye and a reward.” She leans forward, nuzzles at his crotch with a hum of approval. “I love that you’re sweaty and worn out, even in your dreams.”

Real or not, she knows just how to please him. His grip on her loosens, and Lyza takes advantage, finishes what she’d started. It’s a sultry commentary on truth, because if this weren’t a dream, he’d never insult his hosts by letting her strip him in broad daylight.

Fuck, but her mouth is perfect, even if nothing else around them is. It’s too hot, they’re too exposed, the wind is blowing the wrong way so her long, long hair is tickling his bare thigh, he’s about to lose his balance and--

Bucky tips his head back and stares at the sun above. His breath is coming in short gasps as Lyza’s hands and mouth trigger ten, fifteen, fifty memories that may or may not be real. All of them are more perfect than this one, but this is the one he’s rewarded himself with, because he remembers, now.

He’d chosen the ice, this time. To give his hosts time to figure out how to save him. To take part in saving himself.

“That’s right, let go,” Lyza coaxes, reaching for his hand. She wraps her silken hair around his fist, and Bucky lets himself look down at her. Her mascara’s running, lips stretched around him, imperfectly perfect, just right. “Use me,” she says, and he is, but more like a salve than a slave.

With a very great effort, Bucky stops her. He needs to know before the dream ends, and in his experience, most dreams end before the climax. 

“Was any of it real?”

“I’m sorry, Buck. It was all real. All of it.”

She doesn't just mean sex on the beach.

It’s the worst possible response, but it’s the one he deserves, Bucky thinks. “How do I wake up?” he rasps. He feels naked, but not because of what she’s been doing, and not because he’s given up the arm for now.

“Trust,” dream-Lyza says, her smile warm and reassuring.

“Well, shit,” Bucky smiles, with multiple decades’ worth of regretful humor.

“Trust you can finish what you started,” she continues, pressing a meaningful kiss to his thigh.

Bucky thinks about Steve, how grateful he is to have found him again. He thinks about the nobility of T’Challa’s grief, about how much faith in second chances it took to allow Bucky to convalesce in Wakanda. As he pushes his thoughts toward how to make amends, Lyza takes him in her mouth again, and the pleasure mitigates the pain of those thoughts so perfectly that he finally believes her.

The real Lyza is gone. So is the man HYDRA forced him to become.

[thefallennightmare]

Click on the links for each of the masterlist to refresh your brain!

Mercy

The Coyotes Cry

The Grey

Who Are You?

Corrupt

“Top secret project” @artificialbreezy @blueskylinesx