#a stark and her soldier
A Stark and her Soldier ~ Part 1
Imagine: Reuniting with Bucky when you end up helping Sam with the Flag Smashers.
Warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS! This takes place during the first two episodes of the show.
A/N: I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’M BACK (with a new header lol)!!! AHHHHHHHH! It’s been nearly two years but here I am… posting this makes me SO nervous, so feedback would be highly appreciated! More parts and some information about what I’m planning with this blog to follow soon!
“You held us together – do it for them,” he paused before adding, “Promise me you’ll do it for them.”
You blinked away the tears, knowing what was coming, “I can’t promise that...”
“Y/N please,” the way he begged you with that shaking voice was nearly enough to push you over the edge.
“I-I promise.” He squeezed your hand before letting you leave.
“You’ve reached James Barnes, sorry I couldn’t take your call, please –” you hung up before the recorded message could continue, face burning with frustration. This was the 9th time you had tried calling him this week, not to mention the countless text messages.
You scoffed thinking of Steve’s last words to you, how were you supposed to hold them together when you barely held yourself together on a good day? It doesn’t make it any easier when the person you’re supposed to be holding together is so keen on letting himself fall apart.
Every time you tried calling him, you ended up feeling furious, miserable, or like an absolute failure – usually all three. You promised Steve, you promised, and you failed. You groaned and chucked your phone across your bed.
The last time you had seen him, Steve had still been around, and you hadn’t even spoken to him since Tony’s funeral.
You and Pepper had walked to the lake, each holding one of Morgan’s hands, and you had sat at the dock watching the arc reactor – his heart – float away, the people behind you forgotten in your grief. The weight on your heart was unbelievable, you had already lost your best friend, Natasha, and now your brother was gone.
You promised him that you wouldn’t cry at his funeral – he always knew it was inevitable – and so you sat there, sending him away with a pained smile.
You had no idea how long you had just sat there, staring at the horizon across the lake, trying to make this last moment with your brother last forever.
“Y/N?” You felt a hand squeezing your shoulder, “You should come back inside.”
“What happens now, Steve?” Your voice was softer than he had ever heard before.
“I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out together,” he paused for a moment before gesturing to Bucky, waiting outside the house behind him, “He wants to talk to you.”
You gave Bucky a small smile, “Hey.”
He walked over and dropped down next to you, Steve leaving the two of you to chat, “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” You nodded solemnly.
He added, “For everything, Y/N… he probably wouldn’t even have wanted me here, but –”
You shook your head and took his hand, heart fluttering at the contact. You had always been attracted to him, and it had only grown with every interaction. “That wasn’t you.”
You knew your brother never blamed Bucky, you all knew how it felt to have people mess with your heads and Bucky had had the worst of it. He was furious at Steve for years, but never at Bucky – you could never bring yourself to be angry with either of them, not after the stories you grew up with. Your father had adored the soldiers and you had been one of their biggest fans, and later one of Steve’s closest friends.
There had come a point after the battle between Tony and Steve when you had become sick of all the back and forth. You were lucky enough to find an escape when T’Challa got in touch with you, offering you a chance to come to Wakanda and learn about their technology – you weren’t ashamed to admit that you were the one who contacted him to beg for it. You hadn’t known that Bucky was already there. Slowly but surely, the two of you found comfort in one another and became good friends.
He gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “You should head inside, it’s getting late – I’ll see you again soon.”
He stayed true to that statement, the two of you stood with Sam and Bruce, waiting for Steve to come back after returning the stones – only to have him shatter your hearts.
You only saw Bucky in passing after that, occasionally visiting Steve at the same time – you never said a word to him, beyond a smile or a wave, and then you stopped seeing him all together. You tried, for the sake of your promise to Steve, but he never answered your calls or texts.
“We’ll figure it out together, right, thanks a lot Steve,” You muttered.
You jumped at the sound of your phone ringing, and your shoulders sank a bit when you saw Sam’s name flashing across the screen, “Hey.”
“He’s doing an interview,” You knew exactly who Sam was talking about, “Good Morning America.”
Your stomach turned, “That’s the last thing I want to see.”
“I know, I just thought I’d share my joy with someone,” Sam chuckled, “Any luck with Bucky?”
“I’m just wasting my time at this point,” You could feel the tears returning to your eyes as you said it.
“Hey, come on now, he’ll come around, he just needs some time.”
“Listen, I called because we have a lead, wanna join?”
“I hate it, his stupid face plastered on every wall, it feels like he’s mocking us.”
“Don’t you start, Y/N.”
“Seriously Sam, I get that he’s the new Cap – the fake Cap, but don’t you think that this,” You gestured to the posters around you, “is excessive?”
“Shouldn’t have given up the shield.” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice and your face heated up with anger, you hadn’t realized it was possible to feel such contrasting emotions at the same time, but here you were. You noted that his voice was a bit hoarse and wondered if he had been sick.
“Good to see you too, Buck.”
“This is wrong.”
“So is pushing away everyone who cares about you.” He finally looked at you and you saw shame glistening in those steel blue eyes.
He said nothing before turning back to Sam, “You didn’t know that was gonna happen?”
Wow, ignoring your calls was one thing, but outright ignoring you while you stood in front of him, that caused a different kind of hurt.
You stood in silence as Sam explained where the two of you were headed, trying to push away the pounding in your head, and suddenly, you found yourself in a jet sitting next to Bucky.
“You could have answered, even once. Could’ve at least let me know that you were still alive.”
“I know,” Was all he said.
“We were friends once,” Nothing, “and I still care for you.”
“Four months, a full four months and I didn’t hear a single word from you, I’m going to need more than ‘I know’.”
He sighed, “I’m sorry.”
You could tell that he meant it and didn’t know what more to say, so you got up and headed towards the open door of the plane, “I’ll catch you boys on the ground.”
You watched Sam follow, and considered helping Bucky as he fell through the trees, but you decided against it. He hurt your feelings and now you could call it even.
Super soldiers? How on earth were there more super soldiers?! You didn’t have much time to ponder on the thought as you got kicked in the face by one of them and fell off the semi – definitely should have let Tony make you a helmet like he insisted.
You flew back up only to see him dropping out of a helicopter, Fake Cap, fuck.
“Looks like you guys could use some help,” Your blood boiled at the sight of his cocky grin.
You weren’t winning, and you weren’t stupid enough to continue trying, let Steve’s knock-off take care of it.
You flew off just in time to see Bucky lying on top of Sam, the latter groaned in displeasure.
“Hey, can you gentlemen save the PDA for later?” You joked, earning a glare from both of them.
With the adrenaline slowly draining from your system, the pain from the blows you took started to set in, making you dread the trek in front of you. As if on cue, you heard a horn honking and Fake Cap pulled up next to you, “It’s 20 miles to the airport, you guys need a ride.”
“I think we’re good,” You simply stated.
“You won’t make it with that limp.”
You gave him a crude smile, “I’d rather crawl.”
They stopped and opened the door, you exchanged a look with Sam and Bucky, silently deciding to join them.
You sat between Bucky and Sam, and felt the anger and disgust radiating off of both of them with every word that was exchanged.
“Y/N Stark,” You despised the way he said your last name, like he wanted to devour you, “You are one of the original seven, I trust you know the importance of having a strong team. I’d suggest giving a word or two of advice to your friends here.”
“Did you really just compare being on a team with you two, to being on a team with the Avengers?” You glowered at him, “A word of advice Walker, you’re not Steve, you might be holding that shield, but you will never be half the Captain America that he was. So quit fucking pretending.”
“I didn’t realize Stark’s sister had such a mouth on her,” He smirked, he knew exactly what he was doing and as much as you hated to admit it, it was working, “Vicious.”
“Go to hell.”
The ride didn’t last very long after that, and you had no complaints when Bucky demanded them to stop the car.
You opened your eyes and rolled over to see Sam still asleep on the seats across from you, and Bucky was sitting on the large crate in the middle of the jet, “Not tired?”
“Nah,” He shook his head.
You pushed yourself to your feet and hopped up next to him, “You’d think they’d make those seats a bit more comfortable considering the amount of time we spend on these things.”
He chuckled and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. After a considerable pause he turned to you, “Y/N, I meant what I said earlier, I’m sorry.”
The dark bags under his eyes were a stark contrast from the beautiful blue that you were looking into, which you noted which had lost its luster. You noticed that his voice still had a bit of that hoarseness from earlier in the day, and the dots connected. You remembered how hoarse your voice used to get when you’d wake up screaming from the nightmares after particularly rough missions. You understood why he was awake, he didn’t want you and Sam to see him like that.
You nodded, “I know, I just wish – I was worried sick about you. I know it hasn’t been easy for you Buck, but we were good friends once and I miss you.”
“I wanted to call, it’s just been tough,” He admitted, and you reached over to take his hand, only to quickly pull away as Sam woke up.
“You two okay?”
“Yeah,” You both said. You wondered if Bucky’s super soldier ability allowed him to hear the way your heartbeat picked up from that brief touch.
Your mind was racing a million miles a minute, you had barely kept the tears in listening to Isaiah’s story, both out of anger and sadness. How? How did this happen? How was this man tortured, then brushed under the rug? How did no one know about it? Why the hell did Bucky keep this from you?
Sam mirrored your pained expression, but something darker lurked beneath his eyes, you couldn’t even imagine the rage he felt. The sound of a police siren pulled you out of your thoughts.
Your anger only grew at the argument that ensued, “I am calm, what do you want? We’re just standing here talking.”
“Just give him your ID,” You glared at Bucky as the words left his mouth.
“Why the hell should he? He didn’t do anything wrong!” You growled, at the same time Sam said, “I’m not giving him shit, we were just talking.”
“Hey, hey, look, is this guy bothering you?” The officer asked you and Bucky. Your eyes widened, he can’t be serious right now.
“No, he’s not bothering us, do you know who this is?!”
You couldn’t even stand to look at the guy as his jaw dropped in shock upon realizing who Sam was, you felt your body shake with anger, and you didn’t even want to think what would have happened if Sam hadn’t been an Avenger.
The officer returned from his vehicle and turned the tables, announcing that there was a warrant out for Bucky’s arrest.
Watching him being handcuffed and put into the car shattered your heart, if the events of the day hadn’t already left you feeling nauseous, you knew this would be the nail in the coffin. All you could see was Bucky on his knees with a gun to his head nearly seven year ago when Steve barely prevented T’Challa from killing him and the four of you had been arrested – Tony had been furious with you, but it was the shame in Bucky’s eyes that had hurt you the most, and here you were, witnessing it again.
You reached over a grabbed Sam’s hand and squeezed as hard as you could, desperate for a lifeline to keep you from sinking into those painful memories.
You maintained that same grip on the poor man’s hand as you sat at the police station waiting for Bucky to be bailed out, “Sam, Y/N, I’ve heard a lot about you two, I’m Dr. Raynor, I’m James’ therapist.”
The two of you shook her hand and Sam thanked her for getting Bucky out.
“That was not me –”
“Christina!” You’d recognize that voice anywhere from the way it made your skin crawl, fuck, “Good to see you again.”
You clenched your jaw to keep yourself from punching the stupid grin off of his face as he pointed to himself when Dr. Raynor asked him who authorized Bucky’s release. You knew you had a problem with constantly wanting to punch people in the face, it was a trait that ran in the family, but Walker’s face was definitely one of the most punchable ones you had seen – a good ol’ pop in the jaw wouldn’t hurt, right? Just one?
“He’s too valuable of an asset to have him tied up –”
That was it, that was all you were willing to hear, you couldn’t stop yourself from getting in his face and hissing, “Call him that again, and I swear to god Walker, I –”
Sam put his arm around you, hand pressed to your stomach and pulled you back, “Y/N.”
Walker simply smirked and turned back to Raynor, “Do what you have to do and send him off to me. Got some unfinished business, him and I, you too Wilson, and bring your guard dog with you.”
It took everything in your power to keep from snarling at him.
“James, condition of your release, session now,” The doctor ordered, “You two as well.”
“I’m good, I’ve been to enough therapy,” You shook your head, at the same time Sam said, “That’s okay, I’ll be out here with –”
“That wasn’t a request,” You couldn’t help but chuckle, and decided that you liked this woman.
You and Sam sat on either side of Bucky, facing Dr. Raynor as she got started. You couldn’t help but notice the way Bucky’s eyes shifted and jaw clenched as Sam tried to weasel his way out of the session, and your chest tightened. He looked so tired, and not just the ‘hasn’t slept in a few days’ tired, but more like he was tired of trying – he looked broken.
You decided in that moment that you would try, and not just for Steve, but for the man next to you who had held a piece of your heart before he even knew you, and managed steal that piece away when you had met him years later.
You realized how hard you’d have try when Bucky answered Dr. Raynor’s question with, “In my miracle, he would talk less.”
“Exactly what I was gonna say, isn’t that ironic?” You sighed, so hard.
She turned to you, mimicking the expression on your face, “Y/N, can I trust you to give me a proper answer?”
Try, Y/N, try. You saw a glimmer of hope in Raynor’s eyes as they met yours, but you simply shrugged and looked away, unable to bring yourself to open up, and she let her shoulders fall slightly.
“You guys are leaving me with no choice. It’s time for the soul-gazing exercise. Y/N, you can sit this one out, you get along with both of them well enough.”
You rolled your eyes at the reactions from the boys, this’ll be good. You couldn’t help but chuckle as they got closer to one another, maybe I should have taken part in this exercise. They made eye contact and continued to hold it, you realized what they were doing moments before the doctor did and let out a genuine laugh – earning a glare from Raynor, don’t encourage them she seemed to say.
“James, why does Sam aggravate you? And don’t say something childish.” Your head filled with a hundred different ideas about what stupid things Bucky would come up with, only to have them fizzle away at his cheeky grin towards the doctor, followed by the lick of his lip. It left your throat dry. Snap out of it, Y/N, what’s gotten into you?
He paused for a moment, his expression changing, and turned back to Sam, “Why’d you give of that shield?”
You held your breath, you knew this was going to come up, but weren’t expecting it here. You couldn’t take your eyes off of Bucky, noticing every change in his face, it becoming more pained with every word that left his mouth, and your chest tightening alongside it, until finally, “So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me.”
The break in his voice cracked your heart into a million pieces. You looked up, trying to keep the tears swimming in your eyes from falling. You turned your attention towards Sam and noticed the emotion behind his glassy eyes – it was different than anything you had seen in him before, it was almost as though you could see the burden he was carrying on his shoulders, the pressure that was pushing him in every direction.
I have to fix this, you told yourself, you couldn’t stand to see them like this, I have to try.
Your mind was roaring with thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed that Sam and Bucky had left until Raynor asked, “What would be in your miracle, Y/N?”
You snapped your head towards her, then to the door, you weighed your options and headed towards the latter. You grabbed the handle and stopped, without turning towards her you whispered, “I’d find a home again, and they’d find some happiness.”
You pulled the door open, “Y/N, I don’t think those two things have to be separate.”
Her words swam in your head until you found Bucky and Sam walking outside, Walker and Hoskins storming off in the other direction.
“What’s that all about?”
“Walker being Walker,” Sam shrugged.
“So, what now?”
“Bucky wants to talk to Zemo,” Every memory that you spent years trying to forget came flooding back: Zemo using those words to turn Bucky into the Winter Soldier, who then proceeded to trash the compound and nearly kill you and your friends; watching your family fight each other at the airport and being forced to pick a side; watching the footage of your parents dying; desperately begging your brother and the man who had become your brother not to kill one another.
“You what?!” You gasped.
You stepped between the two of them, close enough to Bucky that you had to tilt your head up to look into his eyes, and whispered, “Bucky, no.”
“This might be our only lead, Y/N,” You stared up at him, silently pleading him, he reflected the same in his own, “Please Y/N.”
He took your hand and you instantly melted, “I – fine, but promise me you will be careful.”
Read Part 2
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This week on: can I find it on ao3 or do I have to write it myself: Bucky Barnes raising his three much younger sisters while struggling from being the only survivor of a car crash that welded a metal arm onto his shoulder and got him a job at SHIELD. Of course he meets and falls in love with Steve, his youngest sister gets snagged by Tony Stark as a science geek, and Natasha enjoys having three younger girls to train in the arts of pranks and chaos and also violence, but yknow.
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Definitely need more background on what’s been going on with Sharon. On the one hand I can totally see this being some undercover operation thing but on the other hand they might just make her a full on baddie and if team cap really did just abandon this women after she helped them I really don’t blame her??? I don’t even know, Sam made it seem like they hadn’t had contact at all since Civil War but we know from Endgame that Steve and Natasha had some clue where she was/how to get into contact with her because they knew Sharon had been snapped. I guess there’s a world where Steve had some sort of communication with Sharon before breaking the others out of the raft and that’s why Sam doesn’t know about it but uh genuinely it’s not a good look if they forgot about her, especially considering they had to have gone out of their way to link up with Natasha at some point and Steve literally broke half of them out of prison, in what world was keeping in touch with Sharon or getting her a deal like Clint and Scott anymore difficult? I don’t know, I just hope that if Sharon’s does get a villain/anti-hero storyline it doesn’t end with even more fans hating her because this badass woman has been through enough.
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help I saw a reply on one of Ethan’s tweets and I just spent the last hour making this
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Dress - Bucky Barnes
bucky barnes x fem!reader
plot: bucky and y/n’s relationship is new, and they don’t want to share with their friends just yet. but something as simple as a dress can change anyone’s mind, even the winter soldier.
content warnings: kissing. physical affection. flirting. allusions to sex. drinking. being drunk. language. bucky being a flirt.
a/n: this is for @natasha-romancff and her taylor swift writing challenge! it took me awhile, but i’ve had a ton of fun writing this. so many bucky fics are angsty, and rightly so the man has some TRAUMA. but for my first bucky fic, based on dress by taylor swift, i wanted something happier for him
Damn. That was a lot of leg.
“I don’t know,” you muttered as you stared into the mirror, “aren’t these things…a little classier than this?”
“Uh…have you met Tony Stark?” Natasha grumbled as she continued to scroll through her phone. “The man has never been classy a day in his life.”
“Well I know he isn’t, but fancy people show up to these things. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.” You were currently standing in front of the full-length mirror in Wanda’s room, staring at the reflection of a woman who didn’t quite look like you.
But it was you, wasn’t it? It was just…that you was wearing a very short, very sexy red cocktail dress. The sweetheart neckline was a nice touch, but the back was completely open. And that hemline? Definitely hiked way up past your knees.
“Y/n, relax,” Wanda reassured in her lilting accent, “sure, the dress is a little…spicier…than you’re used to, but it’s in a good way.”
“I’m pretty sure every single person would be able to tell I spend my days in tactical gear. God, I’m not sure I even know how to walk in heels this high!”
Heaving a dramatic sigh, Natasha threw her phone down and looked at you in the mirror. Her eyebrows were raised, and she was giving you her usual ‘don’t give me that shit’ look. It nearly had you shaking in your very strappy black heels.
“Are you kidding me, y/n? I’ve seen you strut in enough fancy parties during undercover missions to know that you’ve got this.”
“Yeah,” Wanda scoffed as she took a sip of red wine from her glass, “all she’s nervous about is what Bucky will think.”
Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide how much that sentence affected you.
“C’mon, Wanda. You know Bucky and I are just friends.”
“Do friends undress each other with their eyes whenever they’re in the same room?”
Damn it. Damn Wanda and her stupid perceptiveness.
“You’re reading too much into it, Wanda.” She just laughed at you, acting like she knew so much better.
What you knew and wasn’t ready to admit to your two best friends, was that she was right on the money.
Bucky Barnes, the infamous Winter Soldier, your favorite person in the entire world, was now your boyfriend. He had been for a few weeks now. The two of you were insanely private people. Hell, it had been years before the two of you had finally learned everything about each other. Once you had gotten past the walls the other had so carefully crafted, well…
At that point you were in love.
But the others didn’t need to know that, not yet at least. The Avengers were a family, your family. They were really the only true family you’d ever had. But Bucky…Bucky was finally yours. And you were his. You didn’t think it was crazy to just want to enjoy that, just the two of you, without everyone else sharing their jokes and opinions just yet. They did it out of love, you both knew that, but you just wanted him all to yourself.
As you looked back at your reflection in the mirror, you took a minute to really consider what Bucky’s reaction might be. He had the best poker face in the room no matter who he was with, but you knew him well enough to know how he was feeling just based on his eyes. He’d always said how much he loved red on you, and he adored every and any excuse to touch your skin. Those steel blue eyes of his would absolutely burn once he saw you in this dress.
And fuck, that was something you really wanted to see.
“Well, if you aren’t going to wear that dress, you better pick something else,” Nat said, jerking you from your fantasies, “we need to be there in twenty minutes, and we all need to touch up our makeup.”
“Actually…I think I’ll wear it,” you said confidently, trying to hide your grin as you ran your hands down the silky fabric.
What you didn’t see was Natasha and Wanda sharing a secret smirk behind you, like they’d known what you’d do the whole time.
Six weeks ago, everything had changed for you and Bucky.
You’d known how you felt for a long time. Bucky Barnes, despite his past, was the kind of man anyone could fall in love with. He was sincere, kind, generous, witty…everything you’d ever wanted in a partner. He had been your best friend for even longer.
It had been a long time before you could even admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to him. After everything the two of you had been through, who had the time and mental capacity for romance? It just didn’t seem important. You just chalked up your feelings to being such close friends. All you wanted was to be near him, even if you just sat in silence doing different things. Just being in the same room as Bucky brought you a sort of peace you’d never had before. Whenever he touched you, even if it was just a brief hug or brushing your back to get past you, your skin erupted into goosebumps. But that was just because physical touch was still foreign to you, right?
And his smile. God, his wonderful smile…
Bucky didn’t smile much. He hid behind a mask of stoicism, a remnant from the trauma of his horrible history as the Winter Soldier. Showing any sort of emotion, especially happiness, was hard for him. But when he finally let himself smile? It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever see.
It took several sleepless nights wrestling with those confusing feelings to figure it out. You didn’t just see Bucky as your best friend. You had it bad. Not just “oh my god he’s so handsome” bad, like the “I would take a bullet for you I’m so in love” bad. That revelation? It left you euphoric. It also left you scared.
Because you were so sure Bucky didn’t feel the same. And that thought was like a knife to the heart every time it flashed through your mind.
So you kept it to yourself. You tried to keep things as normal as possible, but your heart kept fluttering whenever he walked into a room. Being so close to Bucky meant you confided in each other about pretty much everything, and he knew you well enough to know you were hiding something.
It all exploded on a Tuesday night in the compound.
Tuesdays were your movie nights. Bucky had a lot of pop culture to catch up on, so on this night every week he would come by your room to watch a movie. It was a weekly tradition that kind of started by accident. You were shocked he still hadn’t made time to watch Lord of the Rings, so you forced him onto your couch with popcorn and The Fellowship of the Ring. He loved it so much, and immediately asked if you guys could watch The Two Towers the next week. How could you say no to him?
Tonight, you were watching 13 Going on 30. It was your all-time favorite romcom, and you figured you could both use a break from all the action and fantasy movies you’d been cycling through. Something with a happy ending was worth indulging in.
“Does that Matt guy look like Banner to you? Or is it just me?” Bucky asked through a mouthful of popcorn.
“Heh, maybe a little,” you said, “Give or take a few years.” He laughed at that, and you forced yourself to laugh quietly. You wanted to blurt out your feelings every time you looked at Bucky, so you’d gotten quieter and quieter every time you spent time with him. It was an awful reaction, and you knew he noticed. But it was better than losing his friendship, right?
After that awful and painfully obvious forced laugh, Bucky let out a huge sigh and paused the movie. He set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then turned to face you. Exasperation and hurt glimmered in his eyes.
“Y/n, what the fuck is going on with you?”
“W-what do you mean?”
“Oh come on, don’t give me that,” he said sharply, “I know you better than anyone, and I know for a fact there’s something you’re not telling me. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”
“What? No, god no!” You exclaimed.
“Well it must be something I did, because you’ve never been this quiet around me and it keeps getting worse. I hate it, and I want to know what I did so I can fix it.”
“Bucky, I’m serious, it’s nothing you did—”
“Then why? Why are you shutting me out?” He cut you off angrily, arms thrown wide. “You’re my best friend, I just don’t get why—”
“I don’t want you like a best friend, Bucky!” Your eyes went wide as the words flew from your lips. In the most comical way, you clapped your hand over your mouth as if you could stop the words that had already been said. Bucky’s eyes narrowed in confusion.
Oh fuck. He didn’t get it. Curse him and his old man ways.
“What does that even mean, Y/n? Are you saying you don’t want me around anymore?”
“Bucky, of course not. God, I would never want that. Never in a million years.”
“Then you better explain, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m over 100 years old. I need a little help here.”
“It means, uh…um,” you stuttered, wringing your hands together. “Is there any chance we can just forget I said that?”
“Nope, not a chance.”
“It means…it means that I care about you. As more than a friend.”
His entire face seemed to crinkle as he processed that. If you weren’t freaking out, you’d be obsessing over how damn cute it made him look. Then his eyes got wide as he began to make the connection. Your stomach nearly fell out of your ass as his eyes lifted again to meet yours.
“I…I think I know what you’re saying,” he nearly whispered, “I just need you to get real specific real fast, because I’m not about to say anything until I know exactly what you mean.”
“It means I’m in love with you, okay?” You burst out. Even through your mortification, there was a sudden sense of relief. A secret as big as that had definitely been weighing you down. Now that it was out there, that was one less thing you had to worry about.
His eyes grew even wider. How that was possible, you didn’t even know. That beautiful mouth of his began to turn up into a small smile as he gazed softly at you.
“You’re in love with me?” He asked, his smile getting wider with each passing second.
“What, you need it carved into stone or something?” You couldn’t help but sass him. Did you fucking stutter?
“No, it’s just…I never thought you’d feel that way about me.”
“Well, clearly I do. So you – wait, you mean you’ve thought about this before?”
“Of course I have,” he said as he shrugged, “I’ve been in love with you for two years now, how could I not think about it?”
You were instantly filled with warmth and pure bliss. In all your obsessing over your own feelings, you’d never allowed yourself to consider that he might feel the same about you. It just didn’t seem possible.
“I’m sorry,” you burst out, holding a hand up, “you’re telling me you’ve been into me for two years and didn’t say anything?”
“Why didn’t you?” He shot back, inching closer to you.
“Because you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose you because of stupid feelings I have.”
“But…I have those same ‘stupid feelings’ for you. So can we just cut the whole act and get on with it?” Bucky brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin so gently.
“Uh…um…get on with what?”
“Well I’d kinda like to kiss you, if you’re cool with it.”
“Bucky Barnes did you just use current slang to ask if you could kiss me?” You didn’t move an inch as his face moved right in front of yours, breath intermingling as you gazed into each other’s eyes. God, was this really happening?
“Yeah, guess your lessons worked,” he murmured.
“Well you better kiss me, then.”
As soon as your lips met, it was like coming home.
That memory, your favorite memory, replayed in your head as the three of you stepped into the elevator. Nat and Wanda were happily chatting about who would be there, what kind of antics Tony would cook up tonight, if there would be music we could actually dance to. You know, normal party things.
All you could think about was how long you had to stay until you could sneak off with your boyfriend.
You were so happy Wanda and Natasha had convinced you to wear this dress. When you’d first put it on, the difference from your normal look was so jarring that it took you a few minutes to get used to it. But now that you had, now that you felt the silky fabric shifting against your skin as you moved, now that you saw how dangerously long your legs looked in these heels…
Damn, you felt sexy.
And that sexy feeling? It made you want Bucky’s hands all over you.
But this was a party. A party thrown by Tony Stark, one of the most perceptive and observant people you’d ever met. If you left too soon, if he thought you weren’t “having enough fun”, he’d be more than a little upset. So you had to stay, drink, mingle, maybe dance a little…and then, maybe later, you could go do what you actually wanted.
The elevator pinged, indicating you had reached the topmost floor of the compound. This floor was home to a huge communal space, often used for just hanging out with the team. But on nights like tonight, Tony went all out and turned the space into something that resembled…a club?
The three of you stepped out into the massive room, upbeat music already blasting from the speakers. Typical Tony – he never really outgrew his love for dancing and parties. The bass thrummed through your body, making you want to move to the music. The lights were dim, but you could still tell who was around. It looked like you were some of the last members of the team to arrive. There was a huge bar off to the side, and Natasha headed that way right away. You turned to ask Wanda if she wanted to follow Nat, but she was already making a beeline for Vision. Smiling, you just turned right back around to follow Natasha. A drink sounded pretty good right now.
As you made your way to the bar, you felt more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you walked. You sneakily looked around as you went, noticing men and women watching you with admiration, and dare you say it, longing. As someone whose job was to blend in with the background all the time, this was a different and slightly addictive feeling. You leaned on the bar next to Nat right as the bartender slid her drink over to her.
“Straight whiskey tonight? Damn, going hard.” You quipped.
“Hey now, you know I can handle my liquor. It’s you we need to watch out for, you lightweight.”
Laughing, you scanned the party guests, looking for the one person you wanted to see. Tony had had arm around Pepper’s waist, both laughing at something Rhodey had said. Bruce lingered around them, drink in hand and looking a little nervous, but still happy to be included. Wanda and Vision were sitting quietly on one of the couches, both looking absolutely smitten with each other. Scott Lang, one of the newest additions, was busting some moves, while Peter Parker laughed as he watched. Thor, who was visiting from Asgard, laughed boisterously as he watched various guests try to lift his hammer. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face. You loved these people so much.
Then, you saw him.
Bucky was with Sam and Steve, as usual. But even as Sam and Steve were talking animatedly next to him, those gorgeous blue eyes of his were glued to you. There was a kind of intensity in them you hadn’t seen before. Your breath whooshed from you body as he grinned at you. Trying to maintain the suggestive image your dress gave you, you managed to send a flirtatious smile his way, then turned back around to face the bar. Leaning against the counter, you knew he’d get an eyeful of your bare back. God, this was fun.
The bartender finally made his way over to you, and you ordered two tequila shots.
Nat turned to you, one eyebrow arched in surprise as she asked, “And you say I’m going hard? You can’t just down two shots right away, babe.”
“I’m not doing two shots; you think I’m stupid?” The bartender slid the shots over to you along with two lime wedges. “One is clearly for you.”
Unable to hold back a laugh, Natasha put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side as she said, “Why the fuck not, let’s do it.” The two of you went through the process: salt, shot, lime. You couldn’t help but wince as you downed the harsh liquor. Of all the shots in the world, tequila probably tasted the worst. The only reason you kept going for it was the warmth it traced down your body, and you felt your muscles begin to loosen up.
“Two more,” you called over to the bartender.
“Uh, no,” Natasha shot at you, grabbing her whiskey, and pushing off the bar, “I’m good with my top shelf shit, you keep going after that gasoline if you want but I’m out.”
“C’mon, Nat,” you called out, “what am I gonna do with two shots?”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone else, babe.” She said with a wave over her shoulder.
Sighing, you turned back to the ridiculously pretty bar (seriously, how much had Tony paid for this thing?). Who else would help you look cool and sexy at a bar for your secret boyfriend?
Okay, that was the cringiest thought you’d ever had. Gross.
As the bartender slid the tequila in front of you, you steeled yourself for the nastiness that was about to happen.
“Fuck, I didn’t think this through,” you mumbled.
“Yeah, you tend to do that,” a deep voice answered on your right. Instead of being the slightest bit surprised, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d know that voice anywhere.
“Something I can do for you, Barnes?” You looked up at him from under your lashes.
“Well, it looks like you’ve got an extra shot there. Thought I could bail you out.”
“Is that all?”
Bucky shifted so that your arms were just barely touching. His hand was right next to yours, and you reached out with your pinky to lightly brush his.
“Doll, you have the gall to show up in that dress and ask what I want as if you don’t already know?”
“Sorry Buck, I’m a little slow, must be the tequila. You should probably be a little clearer.”
Putting on quite the show of reaching for one of the shots, his mouth somehow ended up right next to your ear.
“I want you.”
It was lucky everyone was so distracted and couldn’t see how you shuddered at his words. Trying to maintain brain function, you managed to take the shot with him. You were now fully facing each other. He was wearing the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen, one that would put Tony Stark to shame. You couldn’t help but respond with that same energy despite the jitteriness his three little words had reduced you to.
“Well why don’t you—”
“Hello, my friends!” A booming voice sounded between you as Thor threw a huge arm over each of you. Bucky, with his stupid super soldier strength, didn’t really have a reaction to it. You, on the other hand, stumbled a little under the weight and force of it. “It’s so good to be back with you tiny humans.”
Was…was he slurring his words?
“Thor…are you drunk right now?”
He simply laughed in response. Well, that answered that.
“Of course I am, tiny person! It can’t be a party without good Asgardian wine.”
“Wait…you have literal god wine?” Bucky, who had a look of vague irritation on his face up to this point, now looked interested. Maybe even a little excited?
“Of course, metal appendage.”
“Dude, you can’t just call Bucky ‘metal appendage’—”
“He can if he lets me have some,” Bucky interrupted.
“We have a bargain!” Thor slapped Bucky on the back before scurrying back over to where he had come from, probably to get the wine he had promised.
“Bucky, you can’t even get drunk,” you hissed, “what exactly is the point of this?”
“Since everything happened, I haven’t found any alcohol strong enough to get me drunk. I figure god wine is worth a shot.”
“When I kiss you against a wall later, I wanna be a little tipsy,” he whispered in your ear, “that cool with you?”
Unable to keep yourself from smiling again, you nodded as Thor sauntered back over. Ever since that moment a few weeks ago, right before he kissed you for the first time, asking “is that cool with you?” had become your thing.
And the idea of Bucky kissing you against a wall? Yeah, that sounded pretty good.
As it turns out, Asgardian wine is just as potent as Thor had promised.
For the first time in over seventy years, Bucky Barnes was certifiably drunk. It made him feel like the Bucky from all those years ago, and it was the most incredible thing. Here he was, over 100 years old, partying, and all his favorite people were here.
Including his ridiculously hot girlfriend.
Even as they both flitted around the party, Bucky and y/n still found each other’s eyes, even from across the room. They would send winks, smiles, even funny faces. All he wanted to do was be right next to her, talk and dance with her all night…
But they had agreed. They wanted to keep their relationship a secret for now, keep the attention off of them for a bit while they got to know each other in this new way.
But god damn, that dress.
Y/n in red was…indescribable. It didn’t matter what she wore, she was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But in red? In this dress?
She was breathtaking.
“Buck, you breathing?”
A hand waved in front of his face, snapping Bucky’s attention back to the people around him from Y/n’s back. He had been imagining putting his hands all over that back later and had gotten more than a little mesmerized. He managed to get his eyes to refocus, finding a drunk Sam smirking right next to him and an even drunker Steve dancing next to him. But what Steve was doing couldn’t really be called ‘dancing’ per say…more like an aggressive wiggle.
“Why wouldn’t I be breathing?” Of all the things he could’ve said to get Sam’s attention off of him, that wasn’t it.
“Uh, probably because the girl you’re in love with decided to show up and show off tonight? Pretty sure you’re drooling, man.”
Despite himself, Bucky slapped a hand across his mouth, only reducing Sam to wheezing laughter. Knowing he had been caught, he rolled his eyes and grimaced a little. Of all the people to catch him, he wished it hadn’t been Sam.
“I wasn’t…staring… at y/n, I just never see her dressed up is all.”
“I never said anything about the girl being y/n.”
“LANGUAGE,” Steve yelled out, pointing a finger at his two friends before returning to his shimmying.
Turning back to him, Sam added, “Just go be with her, Buck. You’re not fooling anyone, and neither is she.”
“We’re that obvious?”
“A few weeks ago you’d at least try to hide it. Now I’m surprised you’re not jumping each other’s bones right here right now.”
“Point taken,” Bucky said, lightly slapping Sam’s shoulder before power walking over to his girl.
“Nat, if you don’t stop asking about Bucky and I’s relationship, I’m going to kick you,” you called over the music before taking another swig from your glass. It was no Asgardian wine, but the human stuff wasn’t half bad in your opinion. It wasn’t like you could drink the god shit, anyway. If you had even one sip, you’d be swinging from the swinging like Miley fucking Cyrus. You were pretty drunk as it was.
“Okay, fine,” she said with a shrug as she took a sip of her whiskey, still as calm and collected as ever. “You’re almost as drunk as he is, you’ll be talking soon enough.”
“Oh? Is that your spy master plan?”
Natasha was still looking as unbothered as ever, but as she looked across the room over your shoulder, her face split into a savage grin.
“It was, but it looks like I might not need it.”
“What do you me—”
Your words were cut off as a large, warm hand enclosed around yours. Whirling around, you were suddenly face to face with the man himself. Bucky was clearly having a good time. His mouth was relaxed into the cutest smile you’d ever seen him wear, and he moved without his normal stiffness and intensity. He threaded your fingers together, smiling down at you with so much love it was a wonder Nat hadn’t said anything yet.
Looking back in front of you, ready to explain yourself, you only found empty air. Guess she’d seen all she needed to, but honestly, you really didn’t care. All you’d wanted the whole night was to be exactly where you were right now; hand in hand with the man you loved.
“We’re just kidding ourselves, doll,” Bucky called next to your ear, “Sam said we’ve been pretty obvious.”
“Nat said the same,” you answered with a sheepish smile, “kind of hard to keep my face under control when you’ve got that leather jacket on.”
“You’re blaming me?” He asked with mock indignation. “You’re the one who looks,” he gestured wildly to your whole body, “like that!”
Trying ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks, you shot back, “Like what?”
“Like the most…” he screwed his face up in the most adorable way as he searched for words, “like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” As the last few words tumbled out of his mouth, he gazed at you with such a softness you almost melted right into the floor.
“Wanna get out of here?” You asked, finally giving up the game. It was pointless, really. Now, all you wanted to do was for your boyfriend to keep his promise and kiss you against a wall.
Wrapping an arm around your waist, he answered, “Absolutely.” Without looking at a single soul, the two of you began walking as quickly as you could for the exit. You and Bucky were both leaning on each other a bit, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Stepping out into the light of the hallway, you blinked as your eyes adjusted after the dark room you’d spent the last few hours in. Bucky led you until you were right in front of the elevator, and he lazily pressed the button to go up. There was tension in the air between you, like a thread that was being pulled. Biting your lip, you stared at the doors in front of you. You knew if you so much as looked at the man next to you, you’d jump him right then and there.
The shining doors slid open, and the pair of you walked in, his strong arm still around your waist. His grip wasn’t loose in any sense of the word. Bucky kept you right next to him, even as your legs wanted to drift all over the place. You pressed the button for the residential floor.
As soon as those doors slid shut, that thread of tension snapped.
Bucky whirled you to face him, then walked you backward until you were pressed against the wall of the elevator.
“I promised I’d kiss you against the wall, didn’t I?”
He didn’t even wait for a response. His mouth was on yours in an instant, lips moving together like a dance. The kiss was slow and unhurried. You tried to bring him closer, linking your hands behind his neck and pressing yourself to him. Instead of responding in kind, he unwound your arms from around him and pinned them above your head.
No complaints here.
“You’ve been teasin’ me all night just by wearing that dress, sweetheart,” he murmured in between the kisses he trailed down your jaw, “I think it’s my turn.”
“Would it change your mind knowing I only wore this dress so you could take it off?”
The heat that bloomed in those blue eyes of his was unmistakable. As the doors opened on your floor, he swept you up into his arms and began to walk purposefully to his apartment. All the while, he kept that signature cocky smirk of his you’d come to adore.
“Bucky?” You asked once he’d walked into his unit.
“That sentence was the single most attractive thing you’ve ever said,” he murmured as he set you down. Even still, he kept you pressed against him. “But nah, I’m a patient guy. I think I’ll take my time.” He followed this by resuming his slow and sensual kisses, and you couldn’t help but melt into them.
“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.
“I’ll never get tired of hearing that, doll. I love you too.”
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anyway nobody asked but mutuals are asleep and deka 'hotboy' arameri has been slandered so anyway top five deka hot moments. this contains inheritance trilogy spoilers so dont read unless you don't care about spoilers, don't plan to read (why tho) or have already read
5. Return to Sky
And atop this, stunning and stark in black, stood Dekarta. He’d added a heavy mantle to his outfit, which suited his broad shoulders perfectly, and he stood with legs apart and his hands gripping the forward rail as if it were the yoke of the world. No detached gaze for him; his eyes scanned the crowd as the procession traveled, his expression as cool and challenging as I’d ever seen. When the palanquin stopped and the men lowered it to the ground, he did not wait for it to touch the street stones before he stepped off its side and strode forward, purposeful and swift. The soldiers parted clumsily, and his guards scrambled to follow. Deka stopped, however, on reaching the foot of the steps. There he flicked back his cloak and waited, his eyes trained on the World Tree—or perhaps he was gazing at the palace nestled in the lowest fork of its trunk. (Chapter 15)
I mean it's just like, classic hotguy behavior. Broad shoulders mention is always a 😳🔨
Deka meant it, however, as he let me go and got to his feet. I felt the black pulse of his magic, heavy as a god’s, and thought for a moment that I heard the echoing sibilance of the air as he turned to face his sister.
“Deka,” she began.
He spoke a word that cracked the air, and thunder roiled in its wake. She cried out, arching backward and clapping both hands over her forehead, half falling over her seat. When she struggled upright a moment later, there was blood on her fingers and streaking her face. She lowered her trembling hand, and I saw the raw, scorched wound where her semisigil had been.
“Mother is a fool,” Deka said, his voice echoing and cold. “I love you, and she thinks that keeps you safe from me. But I would rather kill you myself than watch you become the kind of monster this family is infamous for producing.” His right arm levered away from his side, stick-straight, though his hand hung loose, the backs of his fingers caressing the air like a lover. I remembered the meaning of the markings on that arm and realized he really was going to kill her. (Chapter 19)
I mean it's just an iconic moment... it's everything sexy about the Essek gravity crunch but with Family Drama™. Shahar (girlboss) is like "Sorry Deka I'm gonna have to consign you to servitude" (gatekeep) and he just waves his hand and completely undoes the powerful magics which surround the family and permeate the conflict of the entire series.
3. When he just throws around new reality warping magic like its nothing.
I was still staring down at this when Dekarta reached me. He grabbed my arm and spoke without words, whipping his head in a wide, vicious arc. Sound and force flooded from his throat, a roar of denial powered by the living energy of his skin and blood and bone. Better than many gods could have done. Where the power struck the crimson-masked man, I saw it cancel the mask’s message. The mask split down the center with a faint crack, and an instant later he flew backward a good fifty feet, vanishing amid the fleeing crowd. I could not see precisely where he landed because then Deka’s power struck the steps of the Salon, which erupted, shattering into rubble and bursting upward in an arcing spray. (Chapter 15)
Again, when I say this dude has the Essek hotboy energy but without the war crimes... like replace the war crimes with an intense (justified) anger for the racist institutions that have oppressed him as a mixed man... like okay the war crimes are sexy. The war crimes are sexy! It's not a better energy it's a different energy. But it's still a dude who shows up to a bloodbath facing another new form of reality warping magic and just negates it confidently! Dude strides through the chaos in that same sexy cloak. King.
2. The shirt scene, or the scene I actually would like to commission when I have money LMAO
To my shock, he smiled and began to unfasten his overshirt. “I’ve been speaking magic for years, Sieh,” he said. “I can hear the world and the stars as gods do. I know when reality listens closest, when even the softest word will awaken its wrath or coax it into obedience. I don’t know how I know these things, but I do.”
[ … ]
Then he got his overshirt open. I knew before he’d unlaced the white shirt underneath; the characters glowed dark through the fabric. Black markings, dozens of them, marched along most of his upper torso and shoulders, beginning to make their way down the flat planes of his abdomen.
[ … ]
These lines had none of the spidery jaggedness I was used to seeing in scrivener work: ugly, but effective. These marks were smooth and almost geometric in their cleanliness. I had never seen anything like them. Yet they had power, whatever they were; I could read that in the swirling interstices of their shapes.
[ … ]
Now Deka had written demands for power into his own skin, and his flesh gave the words meaning. He had written it in a script of his own devising, more flexible and beautiful than the rough speech of his fellow scriveners, and the universe would not deny him.
He had made himself not quite as powerful as a god—his flesh was still mortal, and the marks had only limited meaning—but surely more powerful than any scrivener who had ever lived. I had an inkling that his markings would be more effective than even the northerners’ masks; those were only wood and godsblood, after all. Deka was more than that. (Chapter 13)
I mean I don't have to say much other than this time I don't have to headcanon the abs they're literally right there holy shit wow.
1. The "I'll never hurt you" scene, AKA the scene that got my best friend to move it next on his reading list when i showed him it alone
All this was in Deka’s eyes as he gazed up at me. I do not know what he saw in mine. Whatever it was, though, he nodded once. Then he rose, never taking his hands off me, and turned me gently to face the pillar. When he spoke into my ear, the words were gods’ language. That made me believe them, and trust him, because they could be nothing but true.
“I’ll never hurt you,” he said, and proved it. (Chapter 18)
I literally can't even comment on this I'm blushing like shit god why did I do this.
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They didn’t see that coming
Mind if I ask a steve x teen reader where they have a different mutant ability (fire manipulation and blood manipulation) seeing how they beat a bad guy by using two elements against them to using one bad guy as a puppet how would steve and the others find out
Hey Bestie, thanks for the request this was so much fun to write! I hope it lived up to your expectations :) sorry, it was shorter than expected :/
You were hired by Nick because of your skills in combat
You were basically Natasha but… little
No one knew about your powers as it wasn’t on your file and also because you didn’t use them unless you really had to as they took a lot out of you
“Oh come on Mini-me just because you don’t have Pietro’s lightning speed doesn’t mean you can’t try to race him,” Natasha said with a smirk plastered on her lips. Setting your feet at the start line you looked back at her “oh I intend to try, build up endurance you know?”.
You didn’t think it was possible to be in pain everywhere until you ran a 10-mile race with Steve, Pietro, and Bucky.
“You know you could always ask one of us powered folks to get your glass for you ?” Loki chuckled from the corner of the room watching you struggle to get the cup from the top shelf “yep I am perfectly aware of that Mr last time y/n asked for a cup I put a spider in it” as your fingers wrapped around the object you realized it must have been him who put it up there in the first place “Bastard” you muttered walking away.
Another fun fact about you was that you were very protective of your family which showed up in little acts at first
Glancing over at them during battle to make sure they were okay, double-checking the mission briefs to make sure you had memorized how many guards there would be
They didn’t know how far you would go so they liked to test the boundaries
however, everything came out 1 mission
“y/n Cap’s gonna need an extra pair of hands in the south corridor” Tony’s voice crackled through the comms. You started to change your course and ran through the rubble of some building that had gotten knocked down in the process of the fight “Got it Stark, already on my way”. When you got there you weren’t expecting to see Steve fighting off 4 agents and struggling to beat them, you knew this wasn’t going to be good if you didn’t step in and use your powers, so conjuring a ball of flames in your hand you screamed “STEVE DUCK” and as the blond fell to the ground you threw the flames in the agents' direction. “2 down 2 to go” you muttered getting ready to use the one power you had been trying to hide for the last 6 months. “So boys, who wants to play a game?” you stalked towards the 2 men, a sick smirk slowly inching onto your face “How about Simon says? I’ll start” flicking a wrist up you continued “Simon says I’m gonna boil you form the inside out and then I’m gonna take you” you used your free hand to point at the now terrified agent “and make you fight against your own team, how does that sound? Great let’s get started”. Suddenly, the first man started to scream out in pain, writhing in the floor like a worm on concrete “pathetic” you spat. Using your powers to bend both the mans blood and body to your will and watched as he fought against the urges you were sending him “Y/N! IT’S DONE LEAVE THEM AND LET’S GO” you heard Steve shout, so letting your grip on them fall you ran out after the super soldier to the jet.
You could almost feel the tension when you stepped back onto the jet
And it was only then that you realized that they had been watching the whole thing from the CCTV cameras in the corridor
“So you do have powers?”
“You didn’t think to tell us you could make a grown man cry”
“I’m impressed” You sat down as the team started to bombard you with questions, thinking that it would be best if you left it a minute before you started to talk “Look I didn’t think I would ever use them again, it wasn’t on my file so I didn’t think it was necessary. I’m sorry” and that was where the conversation ended
You were never teased again
And Loki even taught you how to do even more damage with your new skillset
Fury made sure to add it to your file
Apart from that, everything was fine in the Avengers Tower and if anything, it brought you closer together as a family
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Fics With Sharon Carter Masterlist
Adventures in Buckysitting (ao3) - onvavoir
Rating: Teen And Up
Summary: Steve asks Sharon to look after Bucky while he's away on a mission. Sharon and Bucky don't think this is really necessary, but they discover something in his absence.
Borders (ao3) - NyxEtoile, OlivesAwl
Summary: Sharon nodded and munched on crunchy bread and creamy French cheese. "And you came to bring me down, as well?"
"I came to offer you sanctuary."
Leave no man behind. She was kind of flattered to be on the list. "Well," she said quietly. "Beats being a waitress at a coffee house."
Steve grinned, and was something beyond adorable. "Good."
It was impossible not to smile back. "When do we leave?"
Coming back (ao3) - Shakinnmovin
Summary: Sharon is trying to find her place in the world. With S.H.I.E.L.D gone, the CIA being tainted, the death of her beloved Aunt, Sharon's world is in complete disarray. Concentrating on Bucky, for the time being, might help her find her way to everything she ever dreamed off.
cross this river to the other side (ao3) - defcontwo
Rating: Teen And Up
Summary: Here is the truth about Captain America and the Howling Commandos that every World War II historian must come to accept at one point or another: we will never know everything. We won’t even come close.
So much was lost with the untimely death of Captain America. While the man beneath the uniform sunk to the bottom of the North Atlantic, the myth lived on, only to grow bigger and more unwieldy as the years went by. Now, it is near impossible to tell fact from fiction, to separate out truth from propaganda.
In 1943, the Howling Commandos wrote goodbye letters to be given to their loved ones in the event of their deaths.
In 2014, Sharon Carter finds those letters in a tin can in an abandoned HYDRA base.
Fondue (ao3) - Pargoletta
Rating: Teen And Up
Summary: Sharon Carter was honored to accept the assignment of undercover protection for Captain America. The job offered prestige, a rent-free apartment, and the flexibility to take care of Aunt Peggy. Now Sharon finds herself juggling heartbreak, frustration, the withering of two souls in her care, and a host of uncertainties about her relationship with her best friend.
Kick at the Darkness ‘Til it Bleeds Daylight (ao3) - NyxEtoile, OlivesAwl
Sharon Carter finally drew her gaze away from whatever spot in the middle distance had interested her so. She gave her partner a look as if she’d scraped him off her shoe, then turned to Steve and her face went blank again. She held out her hand, showing Steve a very official looking piece of paper. “Orders from the UN Security Council. We need to confiscate the listed Avenger related weapons.”
He didn’t need to take it to read it. “You want my shield?” he asked. Also Sam’s wings. Not, he noticed, Stark’s suit.
“All listed weapons,” she repeated neutrally.
Lies Will Not Define Us (ao3) - agentx13
Rating: Teen And Up
Summary: Steve and Sam team up with Sharon occasionally while they hunt for Hydra, but Steve still hasn't entirely forgiven her for lying to him while undercover. After she spills another secret, he finds he has a link to the past that he never thought he'd find. But that doesn't mean he's ever going to like her...
Lost, Found and Somewhere Between (ao3) - joycelyn_solo
Rating: Teen And Up
Sharon Carter becomes the unexpected protector of a lost and confused Winter Soldier, including protecting him from his best friend Captain America. Can she help both soldiers find their way?
One Minute Ago (ao3) - Jadesfire
Rating: Teen And Up
Summary: It is a mistake to try to look too far ahead. The chain of destiny can only be grasped one link at a time.
Sir Winston Churchill
Who doesn't want the chance to go back and do things again? Or to correct a world-changing mistake? But when Sharon is thrown back in time and is given the chance to set everything to rights, she finds that changing your past isn't nearly as easy as it looks.
Sharon's 13th Assignment (ao3) - VoyageBoots
Rating: Teen And Up
Summary: "Interviewing with the CIA goes well enough. Sharon’s done this once before, fresh out of undergrad and not sure what she was doing with her life beyond the knowledge that a regular 9 to 5 job would kill her with monotony. She had never even heard of SHIELD back then. Now it is 6 years later, most of the people she knows are turncoats or dead or both and it’s entirely possible she might still have yet to figure out what she is doing with her life."
Or what Sharon did after the events of CA: The Winter Soldier, (Joined the CIA, blew up some stuff, counted sheep and found herself a new normal somewhere along the way).
Slowed Me From My Ruining (ao3) - galfridian
Rating: Teen And Up
Summary: After SHIELD falls, Sharon Carter joins the CIA and finds herself assigned to track down the Winter Soldier.
The Fourth of July (ao3) - Agent25
Rating: Teen And Up
Summary: A series of stories following the life and times of Agent 13, Sharon Carter, and her interactions and friendships with agents of SHIELD, Avengers, and most importantly Steve Rogers. Watch as she grows, matures, falls in love and searches for the world's greatest burger in an increasingly strange world.
The Guest is a Menace (ao3) - songofdefiance
Rating: Teen And Up
Summary: Five times a Russian assassin crashed at Sharon Carter's place, and one time she crashed at Natasha's.
Wrap Me in the Banner I Made (ao3) - hannasus
Summary: Sharon Carter before, during, and after the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Being BFFs with Natasha Romanoff. Losing everything that matters to her. Bouncing back and continuing to be a badass spy. Coming to terms with her feelings for Steve Rogers.
you feel like a holiday (ao3) - 1000_directions
Summary: Bucky and Sharon have been doing this the last year or so, just casually hooking up whenever they happen to be in the same city at the same time. They have fun, and neither of them are looking for anything serious. But it’s nice to have someone who understands him and likes him and doesn’t ask him questions he can’t answer.
And it’s nice how she never, ever says the name “Steve Rogers” to him.
young and full of running (ao3) - sharoncarters
Rating: Teen And Up
Summary: In which Sharon Carter and Bobbi Morse graduate from SHIELD Academy, search for the greatest burger in the country, learn how (not) to gamble, and live the American dream, among other things.
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‘Verse: Kethrys ( @khalwrites )
Timeline: Ariadne alone
Caution for: death, war, massacre, mercy killing, cold-blooded murder
1, 2, 3
It’s the smoke that catches her eye. She’s drawn to fire these days, like a suicidal moth. Where there’s fire on this scale, there’s chaos. And where there’s chaos, there is the opportunity for theft and destruction.
She lives by theft, but she lives for destruction.
She heads for the growing column of smoke at a jog.
Whatever defences the village managed to mount, the soldiers have overrun them by the time Ariadne arrives on the scene. Now they hunt through the streets, and the screams of their prey split the chill air. The bodies of the fallen lie here and there across the winter fields.
A fierce glee rises in Ariadne’s throat. It hammers in her ribcage and shivers across her skin. She welcomes it back. It’s the only thing worth feeling any more.
The body of a soldier is her first target. Half a foot of arrow protrudes from his back, the arrowhead soaked in gore. The archer was very close, to punch through maille front and back.
The dead man groans as Ariadne rolls him over, so she cuts his throat. She takes his sword and its scabbard. Getting him out of his maille would take too long -- she is terribly exposed here crouched over his body. But she takes his colours and his helmet, to pass herself off as one of them.
Maybe it will get her shot. But the King’s soldiers outnumber any surviving locals, so she’ll take her chances.
She sprints for the cover of the buildings.
Noise closes around her, entirely different to the bustle of a living town. Soldiers shout to one another constantly. Wood breaks, fists bang on doors and shutters, boots ring out on cobbles. Now and then a scream sounds and is cut short. And under it all the roar and crackle of the fires that fill the air with smoke.
The haze makes the narrow streets claustrophobic. Ariadne spots soldiers at the end of the street, and hurries round a corner. Her stolen colours will only protect her at a distance. She’s not looking for a fight, she’s looking for stragglers she can surprise. They’ll peel off to loot the houses or to entertain themselves with the survivors.
She’s not so different herself. Just hunting different prey.
Doors stand open, or kicked fully off their hinges. Bodies litter the street -- mostly elves and human sympathisers. Ariadne ducks in and out of the houses, filling her bags and pockets. She grabs mostly food. Spices where she sees them. The odd trinket that might sell for enough to justify the space in a bag. There isn’t time to search beneath floorboards and behind furnishings for rainy-day caches.
There’s an irony to it really. Entire lives’ worth of possessions free for the taking, and Ariadne’s priority is eating tonight. She can only have what she can carry, and carry easily at that. The fire will consume so much. But better the fire than the soldiers.
There are bodies inside the houses too, sprawled where they fell defending their doorways, or curled against walls where they cowered when cornered. Ariadne searches them roughly, shoving her hands into pockets and checking bloodied throats for jewelry.
Not everything has already been taken. She finds the odd purse, a handful of rings. The soldiers must have been too busy chasing the living to search all of the dead.
Some of them are not quite done dying. Some still draw breath, a few make incoherent sounds as she rolls them over. She puts them out of their misery. She could leave them and it’d probably make little difference. But there’s a chance they’d live long enough to feel the fire. To spare them that, Ariadne opens their throats.
Then one catches weakly at her arm.
“Sorry,” Ariadne murmurs as she cuts the purse off their belt.
“Don’t kill me,” they breathe.
“Shit-!” Ariadne startles. She wasn’t expecting enough consciousness to talk. But the elf’s eyes are clear, staring up at her with stark terror. One hand clutches at the wound in their gut. Dark blood wells continuously between their fingers. The other hand paws pitifully at Ariadne’s sleeve.
“Don’t - kill me, please …”
“How deep is that?” Ariadne asks. She tries to prise their hand off their abdomen to look, but more blood spills up and she has all the answer she needs. “That’s going to kill you. If I were you I’d rather someone slit my throat than lie here ‘til the building catches light. That’s a bad way to go.”
“I don’t want to die,” they whisper, voice a teary thread.
“No one does,” Ariadne scoffs.
She sits back on her heels. If she dressed the wound, they might live long enough to die of blood poisoning instead of blood loss. If the fire didn’t get them first. She’d have to carry them out of the town. There’s no way they can walk with that much of their blood already coating the floorboards. If the soldiers don’t catch them -- which seems unlikely -- the strain of being carried overland probably will. If they somehow survive until nightfall, exposure will kill them. If they survived that… they still have an open gut wound, and no access to a healer.
Ariadne draws her knife and leans forward, resting a hand gently on their throat.
“Please,” they beg weakly, “I don’t want to die!”
“You’re already dead,” Ariadne shakes her head. “This won’t hurt much.”
She pushes the blade in beside her hand, avoiding the windpipe. Blood sprays as she cuts the deep artery. She opens it wide. It takes only a second for the elf’s face to go slack.
The cleanest death she could give them. She pockets their purse, adding it to her growing collection.
As she leaves the house behind, another scream sounds somewhere amongst the houses. Not a human scream, something wilder, but wracked with agony. Ariadne’s skin crawls as it goes on, and on, and on.
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@shieldsoldier || ‘ who asked you to save me! ’ for grant
TAKE CARE OF MY LITTLE SISTER WHILE I’M GONE. it was bucky’s final request the night before he was shipped off . if anything happened to him , grant was supposed to look after her and make sure she stays healthy . however , that all changed when he became an experiment . bucky fell from the train and his mind became clouded with rage and revenge , leaving her behind as soon as he soon drove himself into the ice . when he woke up , they were both the first things on his mind . they said he yelled for his best friend as soon as he was conscious enough to do so , trying to fight off the ones trying to help him . he has a fluid memory , a curse that never lets him forget anything , but those few minutes are a complete blur . he doesn’t remember them at all . what he does remember is as soon as he was able to get up and move , he was looking for her --- for rebecca . it was years later until he came across something that didn’t feel right . the name was all too familiar and seeing as how shield was shady to begin with , grant decided to look into it himself . he finds out she’s alive and they’ve been using her as a weapon , a super soldier like himself . this is about the same time that he finds out bucky is alive and it all crashes into him at once . she’s nowhere to be seen and he has no lead , but bucky . he has right in front of himself and he takes care of him first .
a couple of years roll by and the search for him was a dead end , but just when grant is about to lose any amount of hope , he gains a lead on rebecca . if nothing else , he can get to her sooner ; before someone else does .
it’s not until after the fight with stark and bucky is in recovery that he finally finds her . he tracks her down and it’s not without a fight , of course . he helps take out her enemy , protective instinct overriding any other thought he had when going into this . as soon as he turns to her , she’s yelling . maybe she doesn’t know who he is yet... or maybe she does and she’s angry ; which he wouldn’t blame her for either . but now isn’t the time for dwelling on that . right now , he needs to control the situation .
‘ bucky . ’
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Planning a wedding with the man she loves and working small jobs with SHIELD seems like an easy task, but now that Jonathan is dead, Maggie and Steve have to continue tracking down HYDRA and cleaning up the mess left behind- which is easier said than done when the Winter Soldier has returned.
1 2 3
“I was working with Nat,” I sigh, trying to multitask while keeping Steve’s focus. “I just didn’t see it.”
“You told me you’d keep me updated,” He sighs, sounding frustrated. “Usually that means after it happens.”
“Yes, after we’ve both talked to him,” I say gently, thankful the door is shut. “I wanted to get my information and we had a deadline. You’re focused on Bucky; that’s your priority. Mine is here.”
Steve sighs heavily. “Why does it always go back to Bucky with you?”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“Every time you think I’m not listening, it’s always Bucky,” He tsks, and I hear him leaning back against a cushion. “It’s always him.”
“Don’t put words into my mouth.” I say coldly. “I never said it was a bad thing. You have your focus where you need it to be, and that’s fine. I’m the one running this team while you’re gone, and I’m going to do what needs to be done.”
“Don’t start this again,” He sighs. “I had to leave. Bucky needs me.”
I close my eyes, trying not to overreact. “He does. And you need to spend that time with him. I’m sorry I got distracted, I just wanted you to be able to focus on what you needed.” I check the time. “Nat’s going to be here soon to go over the raid plans.”
Steve sighs. “Go. We can figure this out later. Just… Tell me what you find there. If there’s anything about Bucky, it might help us free his mind.”
I nod once. “Absolutely. I’ll make sure to send anything I find about him your way.” Natasha opens the door, and I smile. “I’ll talk to you soon, Steve. I love you.” I release a breath, and Nat perches on my desk with a knowing look. “Don’t. It’s just some communication issues.”
She shrugs a shoulder casually. “He needs to find a balance before he loses you.” She sets a file down. “I think I have a plan, but we’d need Wanda to get the workers out of there.”
“She did that in Sokovia, right? To evacuate? With some training it shouldn’t be a stretch.” I scribble something down in my notebook. “I want to leave Spiderman out, given his age- I don’t think we should drag him across borders constantly- but with T’Challa out too we need the backup.”
“Agreed. He should focus on training with Stark. But his powers are useful, especially if we need some… surveillance.” Natasha flips to a different page. “I called in some favors and secured a safehouse a few miles south of the facility. It’s remote, so we won’t need to worry about anyone walking in on us, but it’s also a way around the police. I want them on our terms, not the other way around.”
I nod slowly, thinking to myself. “If they’re going to be involved, we have to move before they’re given any orders. Any secrets they find will go right up to Ross, and that’s the last thing I want.”
Natasha rolls her eyes. “His damn Accords. If Steve hadn’t negotiated, who knows where we would be.”
I laugh once humorlessly. “Private Police my ass… At least the paperwork goes straight to Ross to handle. I don’t want to be responsible for that. And Stark, well, he does enough to keep him off our asses.”
She sighs. “He wants to do something about Bucky once his mind is free. I haven’t heard much, but Steve won’t let anything happen to his best friend.”
I smile a bit. “Yeah… I know. But at least his heart’s in the right place.”
“You have to use your head, not your heart. You can’t have just one.” I raise my eyebrows, and she sighs. “Just be careful. You both are passionate, and his lack of focus could do a lot more damage than just team dynamics.”
I bite my lips but nod, trying to push it out of my mind. “I’ll try to talk to him. Once everything’s settled down. Clearly we haven’t talked about it enough, but I don’t want to be a distraction when his best friend needs him.”
“Does he?” She meets my eyes. “Or does Steve need him?”
“Hey,” I fiddle with my wedding ring, suddenly nervous. “Do you have a minute?”
“Yeah, but not long,” Steve sounds a bit distracted. “We have a meeting in a minute.”
I bite my lips. “I just wanted to say sorry. I didn’t mean to come across the way I did about Bucky. I know he’s important to you.”
“Thank you,” He sighs. “I shouldn’t have let my emotions get in the way. I know it’s new to have him back.” I frown, noticing he isn’t exactly apologizing for his accusations, and he presses on. “I have to go. We’ll talk later, ok? Hopefully Bucky will be back to normal and they can pardon him.”
I bite my tongue. “Ok.” He hangs out, and I flop back into the cushions, rubbing my eyes. I know he’s stressed, but it’s a lot to handle. I don’t know how much longer we have before we really start a fight, and I don’t want to go through it if we can talk it out before it gets that far. I finally grab my phone and message Zoe, letting myself be weak. If someone doesn’t seem interested in talking out differences, and is being accusatory and unwilling to apologize, how long should you give them?
The response is fast. If it’s Steve, you both need some time to figure out your priorities. He is so focused on his friend, and you have missions to complete. Maybe you need to pause where you are until both of your lives just… Settle.
I release a shaky breath. I don’t want to give up, but I don’t want to fight.
Then don’t. Do what you feel is best for you. That’s all you can do.
I swallow, trying to process what I want. I don’t want to bother Steve. I don’t want to push him and distract him from Bucky when they need each other. And I certainly don’t want him focusing on work. I finally relax and close my eyes, feeling a bit more calm. Thank you, Zoe. For everything.
“Have you talked to Maggie?” Bucky nudges the fire with a stick, both of them outside of a hut with the stars clear above them. The simple life is good, a slice of paradise for them both and more needed than Steve realized.
“Not really. You’ve needed me and they’ve been on missions these couple of weeks.” Steve thinks back to her text, knowing they were pushed back because of Ross. “I think this is what Maggie needs. A bit of the simple life.”
“Every woman wants a goat deep down.” Bucky nods to the animal, smirking when it bleats at him. “It’s been a few weeks though, hasn’t it?”
Steve shrugs. “It’ll be fine. She knows this is important.”
“Steve…” He sighs, leaning back a bit on the log. “This is the girl you want to marry. After all this time, you’ve finally figured out what you want and went for it. I heard you fighting- don’t argue with me, punk, I could hear you- and you’re going to let her be ignored?”
“She’s not ignored, she’s just busy. We did it all the time in the war,” He knocks some dirt with his boot. “She’ll be fine, we both knew the risks when we signed up.”
Bucky sighs. “Just be careful. You finally got your life back; don’t throw it away on the past.”
“You’re not the past, you’re right here,” Steve rolls his eyes. “You sound like her.”
“Good, glad to see you’re bringing some sense back into your life,” Bucky scoffs, grinning. “You need to talk to her.”
“I know,” He sighs. “I will. Just… Not yet. You’re so close to being free, and I don’t want anything to get in the way of that.”
Bucky smiles a bit sadly. “Either it’s gone or it isn’t. It’s not cut and dry and it’s not going to be fixed overnight. It’s been what, almost a month since you left? And half the time you aren’t talking, and the other you’re arguing. You deserve some peace too.”
Steve smiles a bit. “Once you’re back, I’m going to have you in the wedding. And then you’ll be free to live your life like we always wanted when we were kids.”
He hums, looking off in the distance. “I look forward to meeting her. Officially, without the Soldier in my head. I think she’s good for you.”
Steve smiles gently, lost in thought. “I’m sure she’d like that.”
Bucky smiles and nudges the flames, mind on a different woman. “Once this is over… With Ross, with the Soldier… I’m not going to have anything else.”
“You’ll have me,” Steve nods once. “And the Avengers, and you can do whatever you want. Ross just wants to make things difficult.”
He sighs. “He wants me in the Raft, Steve.”
“You were under HYDRA’s control. There’s no reason for you to go to the Raft, you were a prisoner.”
“It doesn’t matter, Steve.” He brushes off his hands. “I was a killer, any way to slice it. I need to own up to that.”
“Just because you did it doesn’t mean it was you. I know there will be more than one person who feels the same.”
Bucky laughs once bitterly. “We’ll see, Steve. We’ll see.”
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Intro to New WIP: The War of the Shadows Book 1
This is my last post tonight, I *promise*. I'm out of coffee and excerpts that make sense out of context. The former is probably going to be more influential....
Anyway, this is the opening scene (currently) of my new WIP, which takes places several hundred years prior to the other one (yeah, that one's still not done. I know), during the fabled War of the Shadows. It introduces the root causes of some of the disagreements and problems in the modern, and was actually the first plot I built for Adoana... So without further ado....
A Guide to Adoana...
Note: I'm leaving off the taglist for Adoana, since this is technically a new WIP and I don't like assuming people are on board... so if you want me to make a taglist for this, and want to be on it, do let me know!
It was a dark summers night when the first of the band began to arrive in the pre-ordained clearing. Chismos shone darkly overhead, the barest glimmer of its swirling blue light breaking in through the treetops. They had chosen this location well; they did not wish to be disturbed this night. It was an assured place, safe from prying eyes, and far enough away from the city walls that even the sharpest-eyed soldier in the highest tower would not see their meeting had they been looking straight at it.
They were very self-assured, these cultists, as they filed into the clearing, each bearing their respective talismans and rune-inscribed voidglass. This one was from the city, look at all his rings, glittering in the light of the candle he brought about; many cultists only used the finest candles. That one was a poor farmer, though his face lay hidden like the rest by a deep cowl, his rough hands worrying the rounded wooden bowls he held. That trio, warming their hands over a small brazier, they were merchants, their charges already placed: a stark white blanket, soon to be red, covered a set of folding desks; a set of seven voidglass-covered boards sat waiting, with a stack of parchment and charcoal beside.
The final two of the ranks entered the circle of dim light with heavy burlap sacks over their shoulders. They were contacts, the face of the organization that worked with the various undergrounds in the region: a supply of bodies, both warm and long cold, was always a profitable venture. This night, only on of the sacks contained a body as they emptied them onto the ground.
She was a fair maiden, long of hair and thin of bodice, a light green chemise. Likely she had been taken from her bedchambers, hoisted out after drinking carefully drugged water, or after a sharp knock on the head. The two contacts lifted her up to the prepared table, then began to distribute the tools of their trade: colored powders for the fires, some mixed with an incense that would drive those near the brazier to intoxication and even greater fervor than they could get into without it. The woman, directly next to the fire, would be driven to the brink of insanity, if not past it, her mind shattered by the sudden influx of alchemical magics, and leave perfect roosting ground for the beast the cultists were so eager to summon away from prying eyes.
Had they the care to look upward, however, they might have seen that there were indeed eyes to pry, several of them, in fact, perched like so many awkward birds amongst the long limbs of the trees.
Like birds they had feathers, poking out this way and that, in such a way that the trees might have had more fletching in them than leaves, so stuffed were their quivers. And all their bows were held ready to draw, heads already aligned with their targets; all that remained now was for the cultists to begin, and signal their watchers that all members were present.
As if on cue, the man with many ringlets marched to the head of the group, so that a line drawn connecting them all would make a fine teardrop, seven paces tall and four wide, with a sacrifice in the middle. He raised his sparkling hands high, beginning a low, sonorous chanting which the rest took up just after. His hands were filled with the dyes, secreted safely in pouches to burn in the fire. Marcus drew his fletching to his jaw with a creaking of bowstrings about him. The man tilted an arm back to throw as he inhaled, and Marcus released just as the man’s arm began whipping forward.
A burst of yellow powder was quickly followed by a less vibrant burst of red as the long, blade-shaped arrowhead split the man’s hood and temple. A cacophony of surprised shouts and screams rose underneath them as the hail of arrows rained down, each striking true as a mounted troop jogged into the clearing, lances high.
Some few dismounted, drawing their swords, while the rest rode about, back into the woods to harry the cultists back into the hellfire of the clearing. They were a motley assortment, their arms and armor as mismatched as if they were but farmers. Which, after a fashion, they were. Or had once been.
Marcus nocked and loosed again, choosing this time on of the contacts as he slipped past the ring of steel toward the untended horses. He fell with no fewer than four arrows through his chest—or rather her chest, her hood falling back as she fell—and plenty other littered the ground where she had once stood.
For a battle, it was silent, a ritual for the hunters just so much as it had been a ritual for the cultists. Stalk, ambush, kill. Rinse and repeat. That’s what Marcus had done for well over two years now, and many of his comrades even longer. With exception of the screams of the cultists, and the occasional grunt by a hunter as one turned to fight, it was quiet. No shouting orders, no horns or drums or horses galloping across a field.
It was, to put it bluntly, a massacre.
Tirosh dropped to the ground just as Marcus did, drawing his long hunting knife even though the fighting was wrapping up. He was a King’s Ranger, on loan along with a couple of others from King Relnero of Corval to help bolster their numbers. Fredrick was fighting to drive all of these witches out of the man’s kingdom, after all.
There was one cultist left standing as the rest of the bowmen slipped from their trees, dueling with one of their own. No one stepped in to help; Marion had it well under control, even though the last of the contacts was clearly trained. She was an expert duelist—she even entered in tournaments, sometimes—and even with her arming sword against the other’s longsword, it was clear to all that she was, once again, playing with the kill. Some of the men contended that she was really an Other-Kin, a Skin-Changer, and that’s why she acted the way she did, sometimes, but never within her hearing.
They twirled about each other, not in the dance that some poets call swordplay, but in the manner in which a caged wolf might stalk, and the way a deer might flee a hunter. Marion deflected thrusts and slashes alike calmly, letting them get almost close enough to her to hit before sweeping them aside. Finally, she deflected a straight thrust from the man, aimed high for her should, and swung around the outside of his sword arm, inserting her blade easily between his ribs and sliding it out in one quick pirouette. He had time to look down at the hole in his side before he fell; she had sliced both lungs and punctured his heart.
She wiped her blade on the man’s cloak as he gurgled the last of his life away. “That was entertaining,” she said lightly, returning the blade to its sheathe at her side, ornately worked with a red rose. “But why didn’t one of you louts see to the girl?”
“Just wanted to make sure that bastard didn’t have any tricks up his sleeve,” Fredrick growled. He always growled, though he was not an unkind man. “All you need is one time meeting someone as good as you out here to end the game, one for all.”
He was one of the few people who could get away with talking to Marion like that. Isaiah was another, but he was the one who healed their wounds and crafted their antidotes and poisons. He could talk to Fredrick like he was some lost puppy and get away with it. Not that he did, of course, but that did not mean he could not.
“And what of the rest of these, eh? You’d just trip over each other!” she returned, speaking first to Fredrick and then to all of them, sweeping out one long arm in a great arc. “Go see to the girl, and make sure all the fuckers are dead!
Marcus and Tirosh were the closest to the table and Marcus hid a grin from his companion as they loped over. He hated checking the pulses of the cultists. It was one thing to shoot a man, and another thing entirely to feel a man’s pulse and plunge a sword through his chest because of it. He supposed there was a mercy in it—they were almost always too wounded to survive—but it was a cruel sort of mercy, the kind that made him feel black inside, as though he were no better than these cultists that worshipped the Shadow. He checked the woman’s pulse while Tirosh gently checked to see if she was wounded; just because they hadn’t seen any wounds from the treetops didn’t mean they didn’t exist. More than once they’d rescued a victim only for them to die later on from some wound or poison they had overlooked.
Tirosh nodded his beak-like nose as he finished his assessment; the woman would be fine, when she woke. There wasn’t so much the question of if she would wake, since the incense had never made the brazier, though it was a consideration. Together the lifted the lady—who else would have dyed bedclothes? —as gently as they could from the table and tipped her up onto Fredrick’s stallion, Bright-eye. He always like to carry the victim back to safety, to Isaiah’s caring hands, even if they arrived too late. Something about it being his responsibility. He had a lot of those.
“Mount up, folks,” Fredrick called as Hisam and Regenor returned to the clearing, “I mean to be back in a warm bed by sunrise!”
Some of the men laughed at that, a rough, raucous laughter of men used to death, but still uncomfortable with it. At least the cultists hadn’t had a battlemage with them, or a medium such as a wand or staff. Only a week ago, they’d lost ten men in a raid much like this one because of a fellow with a wand. Isaiah had it now, though he was uncomfortable with the thing—he didn’t much care for violence.
As much as Fredrick wanted to be back into a town by sunrise, he didn’t make them push their horses. Fredrick didn’t make them do much of anything, really. He planned and organized their raids, and led them in that regard, put the time between raids was their own. There was nothing binding them to the party, save for the bounties.
Under typical circumstances, witch hunters like themselves would be under suspicious eye at the best from the law. Some kingdoms made them bring some witness or other—a sheriff or detective, typically—but in Corval the custom was to bring back the thumbs; the king would not stand for witches within his borders, and didn’t much care if they were caught in the act or ambushed in the streets: he would pay the bounty.
Fredrick’s group didn’t need to do that any longer—and each and every one of them thanked the ancestors for it; it was a most gruesome task—since they’d been personally tasked with removing even the slightest vestige of the ‘infestation,’ as the chamberlain had but it. Fredrick fell on the task with vigor.
They walked through the early morning, dew falling and fog rising as they worked their way out of the woods. Fredrick trotted on ahead, taking with him a good three quarters of their number, but Marcus was in no hurry, nor did it seem that Tirosh was. Though many of them thought the cultists less than human for what they did, some needed time after raids to come to terms with themselves. That category marked a significant group; the new had no trouble, or at least feigned not having it, and they passed on ahead with nary a glance to a side; the old had already come to terms, and had been for years. They had no need for quiet plodding. No, the ones that lagged behind were the ones that were old enough to recognize what they had done, but not quite seasoned enough to simply brush it away.
Marcus grabbed his reigns from Isaiah, swinging into the roan’s saddle with practiced ease. He had ridden a lot growing up, once he had gotten off the streets. It was one of his few comforts on the estates of Lord Darius Tyldian, one of the few things he could do without being watched by a half-dozen servants and guards. It was quite difficult to steal a horse, after all, from a walled-in area. Word had come recently of the odious man’s death. There were no estates waiting for him—for which he was eternally grateful and simultaneously put out—as they had all gone to his sister, an equally odious individual.
He fingered the sword laced to the saddle horn as he walked the horse through the mists. It wouldn’t be long now before they started north again, nearly to the border with Salos. They would have to be careful up there, more so than usual, since the mountain passes offered little in terms of cover, and even less in terms secrecy.
“So how’s the lass look?” Henrik asked, walking his horse beside Isaiah’s—to whom the girl had been transferred.
“Not terribly well, I’m afraid,” Isaiah said in his usual timid manner. “I don’t quite know what to make of it, for certain… I can’t say she’s been drugged, but nor can I say she hasn’t been! A typical bump on the head would leave signs, which I haven’t seen, so they must be using some sort of toxin of which I’m unfamiliar, I think, but there really never is telling with witches whathas been done. You follow?”
“Aye. That I do, at least in part,” the burly Sundlander said, combing his bushy blond beard with thick fingers, “You’re saying these witches is up to no good, that’s what you’re saying!” he finished with a bark. There was nothing much that could keep Henrik’s spirits down for long. No one was really sure why he stayed back with the mourners.
Isaiah shook his head. He knew Henrik was joking—he had to, he’d known the man for some two odd years running—but sometimes the man’s disposition got under his skin—especially when he had a patient he didn’t know what to do with. “Even the dullest of dimwits could tell you that, Henrik, and gladly pass along their title to you,” Tirosh interjected, earning a relieved grin from Isaiah. He might be as dour as could be from a man, but he was a good one, and of sharp tongue to boot.
Henrik’s scowl melted to a wide grin moments later, his feigned hurt evaporating like the morning mist under a hot summer sun. “Aye. That I could tell myself, though I haven’t any idea about handing a mantle to myself—waste of energy, if’n you ask me.” He wasn’t slow—though some considered him to be, as much due to his heritage as to his demeanor—and he always had a clever quip coming to deflect any real hurts.
Marcus tipped his head back as they continued to banter amongst themselves, gazing up at the stars that glimmered through the trees overhead. This was what life was supposed to be, minus the killing; walking through the woods with nary a care in world, surrounded by friends… too few people experienced such freedom. What would the world be like if more people were allowed to live happily?
Speculation and philosophy never got him anywhere. Too many ifs and buts; too many unknowns. Likely there would be just as many depraved sorts as there were now, if not more, what with those too lazy to work even for themselves. That was what was said, anyway, though usually by the people doing the whipping. It was almost ironic in that one of the few areas where all people, no matter their walk of life, were equal was within covens.
Not all covens were bad, despite what Fredrick would have a man believe. Marcus had run into the first kind some time before joining up with Fredrick, though it had been an incident with the second that lead him to fall in. The first kind he wouldn’t overly mind joining when he grew too old to hunt the others; they were a kindly, peaceful people, so much so that neither beast or Other-Kin would trouble them. They lived secluded lives, unlike the second kind—the killingkind.
The second kind was worth eradicating. They were named Cultists of the Shadow, politely, and witches when safest from their cursing. They lived in the cities and towns, they could be a man’s neighbor without him knowing… at least until he ended up a sacrifice for their dark god.
That was where Marcus had found himself, a year ago now, in the same place this woman had found herself in this night. He had spent the evening with a farmer on his way back to Marasol after his horse bolted with all his belongings; he’d mucked out his very first pigpen for his board, and found his bed instead being a cold wooden slab in the middle of the forest.
He attributed his survival in no small part to the incompetency of his captors, but mostly to the timely arrival of Fredrick and his band—not so differently from the raid tonight, in fact. That was how a sad majority of them got into the business, it seemed. Victims turned vigilantes, as some put it. Whether they’d found themselves on a cutting table, or next to an incensed brazier, or whether they’re home had been burnt down, or their village victim of an unnatural plague; they all had some grievance or other with the cultists. Few were those who could stay without a firm, personal vendetta.
hi, haven’t seen you in a while. question: did you watch the falcon and the winter soldier??? if so what’s you think of it?? do you have unpopular/popular opinions
Hi I’ve been busy with school lately and finals but now that I have finished everything I am back! I did watch Falcon and Winter Soldier and I loved it let me tell you. As for opinions I am unsure how popular or unpopular they are but here we go. Spoiler warning if you haven’t seen the show.
First of all I loved that ending. I think one of the MCUs downsides is that they fail to see that an ending where almost every main character lives and is happier than when the show began is a bad thing. While WandaVision and Endgame both had great parts, I didn’t feel good when it ended. Not that WandaVision was bad but Wanda is alone again, her kids, brother husband are gone. Whereas in TFATWS, Bucky has grown to move on from Steve and Sam has fully embraced being Cap. All the scenery, costumes and lighting in the show were amazing and helped set the scene so well. I think Sam is going to be a more human Cap than Steve was. Steve was put on a pedestal as the perfect man and while I think he was amazing, I think Sam feels more down to earth due to him not having the serum. I think Sam is going to be outsmarting his opponents more whereas Steve just hit something until it stopped moving. I was quite upset with the Sharon Carter ordeal, I do understand why she did it though.
Okay on the topic of Sharon actually (this is my big maybe unpopular opinion so brace yourselves). I truly think Sharon Carter is just a villainous Peggy. (I know the Agent Carter series is not canon but Feige can stfu) Idk if you’ve seen Agent Carter but if you haven’t let me give you a kind of spoilery run down. Season One Peggy is working for the SSR and she goes behind all of her coworkers backs in order to prove Howard Stark isn’t a traitor, who the SSR currently is currently building a case against. She plays her own people to further her own agenda. It’s a genius move on her part and we don’t question it because we know Howard is innocent and most of her coworkers are assholes (Daniel is not he is amazing). Sharon did the same thing here, she played Sam, Karli, Bucky and that random assassin to further her own agenda. The big difference is Peggy did not risk the lives of the people she worked with, whereas Sharon did and where Peggy was working to help others, as of 5/7/21 Sharon is not working to help anyone but herself. ALso ngl Peggy did it better.
Anyway that’s all I have for the moment, what are yours? Anything in particular that’s coming up that you’re excited about? I am so excited for the Hawkeye series.
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― TONY STARK and JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES have joined the search ! you have 24 hours to send in your account. santiago cabrera and sebastian stan are now taken. please read over our rules if you haven’t already and we’re excited to have you.
⌜ ⁰⁰¹ anthony stark. santiago cabrera. he/him. cis man. ⌟ looks like tony stark has joined the search for the missing mutants. the forty one year old is known as iron man and works alongside the avengers. they were spotted recently in nyc, hopefully they’ll have some luck finding the missing mutants. ( ash. 21+. she/her. cst. )
⌜ ⁰⁰¹ james buchanan barnes. sebastian stan. he/him. cis man. ⌟ looks like bucky barnes has joined the search for the missing mutants. the one hundred four year old is known as the winter soldier and works alongside no one. they were spotted recently in nyc, hopefully they’ll have some luck finding the missing mutants. ( ash. 21+. she/her. cst. )
Letting Love In
A Frankie Morales/Daughter fic.
I got this idea in my head a few weeks ago about what it would be like between Frankie and his little girl. So this is a first of a series about moments between them throughout his life. Hope you enjoy.
Rated M- Some swearing
Warnings- Drug Abuse mentioned, pregnancy, swearing
He had spent nine months preparing for this moment. He thought he had been ready but he'd been wrong. The second the ear piercing cry erupted through the room he had all but fainted. Frankie Morales was not afraid of much anymore, but somehow he was afraid to hold his own daughter.
You see, Frankie had done things with those hands that kept him up at night. He had killed people with those hands. So how dare he get to lay those hands on something as innocent as a newborn baby girl. His newborn baby girl.
“Frankie?” He heard his name called by his girlfriend. “Would you like to hold her?” The sheer terror that raced down his spine was completely out of his control. He swallowed and nodded his head yes.
“I-I don’t know, uh I don’t know how. I don’t want to hurt her.” He heard himself whisper. The truth was he wanted nothing more to hold on tight to his daughter and never let her go. He wanted to protect her with his life, but he was terrified to fuck it up. She just smiled and held up her arms.
“Baby, you'll do fine. You wont hurt her. Just hold your arms like mine and support her head.” Frankie mimicked what she was doing with her arms and they slowly transferred their daughter into his arms.
The first thing he noticed was how small she looked nestled into the nook of his elbow. His whole hand was the size of her torso. The next thing he noticed made him have to take a seat in the corner of the room. Her eyes. She opened her eyes just long enough for Frankie to get a good look into them. They were a deep chocolate brown, just like his. That's when it hit him that he had actually helped to create something good in the world.
He didn't even notice the tears in his eyes as he looked down at her. She was perfect. She was his daughter. He would go through hell to provide and care for her. If Francisco Morales knew nothing else, he knew that.
“Hey mi amor. I'm your papa.” he started, as he looked into her face once more. He wiped at the tears on his cheeks. “No matter what I'm going to take good care of you, I promise nothing will ever harm you while I am here. You have a load of family that will love and care for you too. You're gonna be the most loved kid on the planet I guarantee that, but that's ok as long you always know your daddy loves you the most.”
He slowly leaned down and kissed his daughter on her temple before relaxing back into the chair with his whole entire world nestled in his arms. Maybe he had been a bad man, maybe he felt like he didn’t deserve the right to hold something so damn perfect, but he vowed he would become more worthy everyday with the light of his baby girl slowly washing away the darkness on his heart.
6 MONTHS LATER..
Fuck Pope. Fuck him for even putting him in this position. Damn did they need the money, but the stress it would put on his family, he wasn't sure they wouldn't break.
Ever since Eva had been born he had seen himself transfer from a washed up addict, special forces soldier, into a father his daughter could be proud of. He was proud of himself. He had lost his license to fly back before Eva had been born. Her birth threw into stark contrast how fucked up his life had been. So he pulled himself up off the metaphorical floor and started seeing a counselor. He hadn't touched so much as an ibuprofen in 6 months, he felt great.
His relationship on the other hand was starting to deteriorate. With the nighttime feedings and the just lack of sleep in general things had started to go downhill real fast. Tempers flared, words flew, and Frankie found himself asleep alone in the rocking chair in Eva's room most nights. On one occasion his girlfriend had even said she didn't want either of them anymore, that he had changed and she wasn't prepared to raise a kid with this new Frankie.
“What happened to Fish?'' she had said. He wanted to scream at her that she must not have known him at all because he was Fish. He was just Fish before the bullets, and blood, and kill count. She would never understand that though. He was happy. How could that be a bad thing?
Which brought him back to his current predicament.
“You fucking told him what?” She yelled straight into his face.
“Can you please not swear in front of her.” he said calmly looking down at the child in his arms.
“Oh cut the holier than thou bullshit Francisco, you have a daughter to look after now. You can’t just leave. I mean what the hell am I supposed to do if you don’t come back and I'm stuck here with her?” He felt like he had been slapped in the face. That last comment hurt him. Not because of the thought of him not making it back, but the thought that if he didnt she would feel stuck, obligated to take care of their daughter.
“First of all I told him yes because we need the money. It’s three days. It’s just a recce. I’ll be fine, no live fire, no action. Second of all, you shouldn't feel stuck with your own daughter, you’re supposed to care for her and love her. You are her mother.” He stood waiting for her response with baby Eva in his arms.
“Fuck you Fish.” She turned and walked out. She left him and her daughter standing in the foyer of their (his?) house.
Three days later he was at his mothers house with Eva. God he didn't want to leave, but he had promised his little girl he would give her the world. The money from this job would take care of her for a while. He promised himself he would spend none of it on himself, this was all for her.
“Si, mama. There is enough formula and diapers for the whole time I'll be gone.” His mother had been more than willing to watch her granddaughter. Although she wasn't exactly ecstatic about her son leaving either, she knew he had the best of intentions.
“You still haven't heard from her mijo?” The night after the fight he had come to his mothers to ask if she could watch little Eva.
“No, ma. She left the other night and when we came back from your house she had taken her things. I think she blocked my number too. I’ve tried calling her several times and it goes to voicemail every time. I just don't know what to do ma.” he sighed and he looked down at this daughter trying to crawl to the chair he was sitting in. “Maybe it's for the best. I never intended for Eva to grow up without one of us, but what am I supposed to do?’’
He reached down and grabbed his daughter and brought her up to his lap, placing a kiss on the spot on her temple he had claimed as his from the moment she had been born. His mother finally spoke after watching her son interact with his little girl “Mijo, I think right now you need not worry about all this. Place your focus on the mission at hand. You know these things never go as planned. Focus on coming back to your baby girl, she will need you I feel.”
Two hours later he was walking out to the truck waiting at the end of the drive. His whole world left in a small townhouse on South Street.
A/N if you would like to be tagged in future chapters let me know. 🥰🥰
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Cork History | The Sinking of the Lusitania
by Michael Lenihan
Image 1. Lusitania Michael Lenihan Collection
In April 1915, the German Embassy in Washington issued a stark warning to passengers, that the waters around Great Britain had been declared a war zone and that any passengers commencing the Atlantic voyage in ships flying the flag of Britain or her allies would be at risk. This warning was placed in over 50 American newspapers. However these notices were ignored and the Lusitania left America for Britain on 1 May 1915 with nearly 2000 passengers. She also carried war material which were listed on the ships manifest, this included 4 million rifle cartridges, 5,000 empty shell cases and over 3,000 non-explosive fuses. The Lusitania was sunk by a torpedo fired from the German U-boat U 20 on 7 May 1915 off the old Head of Kinsale. The log of the U-boat recorded that only one torpedo had been fired at the Lusitania, however many people to believed that two were fired. The ship sank in only 18 minutes and a second explosion was heard by survivors which later led to rumours that high explosives were secretly carried on board the Lusitania. The total number of casualties was 1,198.
Image 2. Lusitania propaganda Medallion. Michael Lenihan Collection
In August 1915, German artist Karl Goetz cast a commemorative medal depicting the sinking of the Lusitania. He intended it to be a metallic political cartoon. On one side the Lusitania was shown sinking by its stern with artillery pieces and airplanes on the deck. The captions translate as: “No Contraband Goods – The Liner Lusitania Sunk by a German Submarine – 5 May 1915.” Unfortunately he recorded the wrong date. The reverse shows a skeleton selling tickets to long lines of unwary passengers, captioned (translated): “Business Above All. A newspaper headline warns: U-Boat Danger.”
Image 3. Lusitania Monument Cobh Michael Lenihan
The British hastily exploited the German version for propaganda purposes. British Naval Intelligence ordered about 250,000 copies struck with the May 5 date and sold them through the Lusitania Souvenir Medal Committee to the public at one shilling each. The discrepancy in date may have been a genuine error but it was interpreted as it being a clear indication that the sinking was pre-planned and not just one of the vagaries of war. British propagandists made the most of their opportunity to discredit Germany. These were originally sold for a shilling each at Selfridge’s in 1916 with proceeds going to the Red Cross and St. Dunstan’s Blinded Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Hostel. Many of the British copies are readily found today, as for the German version these are very rare and extremely valuable.
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The Auction: Part 1
Summary: In which Natasha pushes you to be auctioned off for a weekend for charity, and the opportunity arises for two super soldier’s to have reader at their mercy for a full weekend
The Avengers were akin to celebrities and that created a need for personal assistants to help support and create ease in their lives while they fought off the threats that faced the world.
As a person assistant, your job revolved the most basic errands such as getting fresh coffee or picking up their dry cleaning, making their day to day as seamless as possible, to making sure all preparations were made for any and all trips that they would have to go on to save the world.
Being a personal assistant wasn’t a glamorous job, and the hours proved to be long and draining, but the pay was incredible. Not only was the pay incredible but the benefits of being a PA had vastly outweighed the negatives. Yes, you worked long hours and had a hectic schedule, but when your assigned avenger was on a mission overseas or on vacation, your free time grew exponentially.
As long as the basics were handled, you had quite a lot of time on your hands when they were in another country.
Your assigned avenger was Natasha Romanoff, and given her skill as an assassin and spy, your free time was on the higher end than someone who stuck closer to home like Peter Parker or Bruce Banner or even Tony Stark.
The hours that those PA’s worked we’re almost double your own, but that could also boil down to the privacy Natasha Romanoff required. Peter Parker, while he was in his senior year, had a PA who was nearly run on her feet after trying to keep up with Peter and his forgetfulness.
Bruce Banner’s PA was always tired, always had dark bags under her eyes after being kept late in the labs while Banner worked.
Tony Stark used his PA almost too much, which has caused his PA to put more miles on her car in one year while working for Tony than the 2 years prior.
One disadvantage of being Natasha Romanoff’s PA was the incessant looks you’d received when you were in her presence. Natasha Romanoff was a beautiful woman, she was completely breathtaking and she knew it. She knew she was a deadly woman with her fists and her physical appearance and that drew questions whenever you were introduced as her PA.
If Natasha Romanoff was such a bombshell, then why did she choose a PA who was not? Why did Natasha Romanoff have a PA who was ‘pretty for a big girl’, who’s thighs had been rubbing together since you were 13. Why would Natasha Romanoff have a PA who looked as if she had swallowed two of her?
You were a woman who was plus-sized, and spent the greater amount of your time working for a woman who was the epitome of men’s fantasies. It was enough of a contrast to draw comments under breaths or snide looks. It was almost a constant reminder that no matter what, you wouldn’t fit well into their world aside from working for them.
Despite the comments and the snide looks, the depreciating hand signals that would be fired toward you for a ‘few good laughs’ Natasha treat you no different than she treat anyone of her team mates.
Natasha was a woman who had put in the effort to make you feel as comfortable as possible while working for her, and in your defence, had told the commentators, usually men, how quickly she could dismember them without leaving evidence behind.
You may have been verbally bullied about your size as a plus sized woman, but Natasha would never treat you with so much disrespect. Natasha had treat you as if you were her little sister rather than her PA, and that meant talking you up from the low places you would sometimes notch yourself in.
Natasha was an amazing woman and you admired her.
Even if she had pushed you out of your comfort zone toward new unchartered waters.
“You’re attending the charity auction.” She told you, handing you an invitation. “I need you there.”
She was constantly trying to push you toward a place where you could see your own value.
“Charity auction for the sick kids foundation?” You read the invitation twice.
“They’re auctioning off weekends spent shadowing avengers or weekend dates with volunteers for the auction.” Natasha explained while adjusting and fixing her eyeliner.
“So you need me to go and make sure everything is sorted out?” You behind her, tapping on the tablet in your hands.
“Not exactly, kukla.” Natasha locked eyes with you in the mirror. “I can’t volunteer this year on account of what happened last year on the ‘date’, but you can.”
The tablet in your hands has nearly fallen to the floor. It had nearly slipped from your grips to the soft carpet below your feet as the registration of what she said had gave way to shock.
“What?” You frowned and furrowed your eyebrows. “I’m sorry..:what did you just say?”
Natasha smirked in the mirror, adjusting her stance after she reached for a metal container of mascara. She hadn’t given you an explanation of elaborated on what she had said right off the bat. She had coat her eyelashes with mascara until she was satisfied, then she pressed her lips together.
“I said you can. I put you down on the docket to be auctioned for a weekend of fun. It’ll do you some good.” While Natasha had been unbothered by her decision to offer you up as a volunteer for the auction, you were not.
“Why would you do that?” You hissed. “No one will bid!”
“Are you sure?” She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow. “I think there are more men attracted to you than you think.”
Your snort and derision was a precursor to your eyes rolling. You had mirrored her stance by crossing your arms over your chest and cocking your hip out. You were having two different reactions that were each battling for control, first was your mental reaction that was akin to a nuclear meltdown in your head and the other was your emotionally pressed yet coolness snippiness that had taken over.
“I’d like to believe that, but there’s a better chance of seeing pigs fly.” Your comment had rolled off Natasha like water off a duck’s back, she didn’t even acknowledge your comment or your dig at yourself.
“As a friend,” Natasha asked with a tone of voice that was more telling, “I am going to put you on the volunteer list. As a friend, I am doing this because there are men out there who are attracted to you and have even tried flirting with you-“
“I’ve been flirt with?” Your irritation turned to general confusion.
“-and they feel like this is the best way to get your attention. So will you please-“ she didn’t even need to twist your arm before you caved.
“-it’s for a good cause.” There was a bubbling in your belly as butterflies sprung to life, “what the hell. I’m in.”
“Good.” Natasha stride toward you and pinched your cheeks, “now let’s get you a dress that’s show-stopping.”
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Has your muse list updated, or is it still just the current ones?
Wanda Maximoff AKA Scarlett Witch 24, Bottom/Sub. fc: Elizabeth Olsen. *Default verse, Wanda wears a magic blocking collar that can be controlled by your character, but this can be discussed beforehand.
Steve Rogers AKA Captain America 27, Top/Dom. fc: Chris Evans.
Thor 333, Top/Dom, fc: Chris Hemsworth
Peggy Carter 32, Bottom/Sub. fc: Hayley Atwell
Agatha Harkness, 45 Bottom/Sub, fc: Kathryn Hahn *Like Wanda, she’d naturally be a dom, but her magic is being controlled/manipulated to maker her submit.
Natasha Romanoff AKA Black Widow, 31 fc: Scarlett Johansen
Vision, 45 (appearing; only been "activated" for a few years as an AI) fc: Paul Bettany
James Bucky Barnes, AKA Winter Soldier, 36, fc: Sebastian Stan
Sam Wilson, AKA Falcon, 38, fc: Anthony Mackie
Brunnhilde AKA Valkyerie, 29, fc: Tessa Thompson
Tony Stark AKA Iron Man, 42, fc: David Gandy
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Summary: part 2
A/N: GUYSSS THIS WASNT SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED 😂😂😂😂 WELLLL BY TIME EVERYONE READ THIS ITS GOING TO BE DIFFERENT PARTSSSS OMGGG
"There goes little Hermione."Tony gushes taking the baby off of Steve's chest. Hermione giggles placing her hands in his beard. "Has Steve been treating your right since earlier? Come with me to go get something from the kitchen." Tony kisses all over her face.
By the time Tony came from the garage Bucky was sleep while Steve was slowly getting there. Hermione wasn't tired at all but Steve could barely keep his eyes opened. He yawned finally letting his eyes closed.
"You have Steve, Bucky and Sam tired sweetheart. What should we eat?" Tony said opening the refrigerator door. Hermione makes a noise and Tony acted as if she was actually talking to him. "Grilled cheese it is."
He took butter, cheese then grabbed the bread from beside the fridge. All with Hermione still in his arms. A tired Natasha walks into the kitchen.
"Hey metal man."
"Natasha."Tony greeted not taking his eyes off his food. Hermione watched as well with her head placed on his shoulders. Natasha raised an eye brow looking at the unknown child.
"Awe she has the same name as Mione. Let me hold her." Natasha held out her hands.Hermione eyes sparkled reaching for the red head assassin. "She even have Hermione's eyes."
"Natasha that's Hermione like the actual her." Tony stated flipping his sandwich. "Hank used her for the tunnel which back fired now she's stuck as a baby until I fix it." Satisfied with his sandwich, he took it out of the skillet placing on a plate. Natasha mouth dropped.
"I wasn't even gone long, what the hell have I missed??"
Tony shrugged biting into his sandwich." A lot."
Eventually Tony had to leave to go back and help fix the quantum tunnel. Hermione either wanted to be in Steve’s or Tony’s arms so that mean she was fussy with Natasha. The assassin sigh rocking the crying baby not knowing what to do. I mean she has never been a mother before.
The super soldiers and Sam were sleeping so hard. Natasha was tired from the mission as well, she grew more irritated by the minute. “Steve!”She hit his chest as his wife was wailing. Steve mumbled something then shifted. Natasha hit him even harder waking him up. “Steve wake up! Hermione won’t stop crying!”
Steve opened showing his red eyes from the lack of sleep. “Huh?” It took him a second to realize what was going on. “Shit! Why is Hermione crying?”
“Because she wants you! I’m tired just like you.” Natasha upbraided holding out the child. Steve took his wife into his arms. Immediately her cries turn into sniffles. “Goodnight Steve!” Natasha walked away before he could even asked questions. Like how did she know Hermione wanted Steve and not Bucky.
“Hey Princess,you finally got me to wake up.”Steve whispered rocking his wife back and forth. She placed her little hand onto his bearded face. Steve smiled moving his face closer to hers.
“I love you Hermione so much.”
She didn’t reply as her eyes closed. Steve placed a kiss onto her forehead still rocking the baby. 30 minutes later Tony walks back into the living room with his thumbs up.
“The tunnel is up and ready to go!”
“She’s coming back in 3,2,1.” Bruce presses some buttons. Hermione came out the tunnel as her regular self. She patted all over her body to make sure.
“Is it me? really me? Not baby me?”
“It’s really you Hermione.” Tony laugh ruffling her hair. He pointed towards Hank and Bruce. “Thanks to me though!”
“We totally had that handled.”
Steve hugged his wife. “Thank god you’re back! I can finally finish my nap out.” Hermione raised a eyebrow. “I’m back normal and the first thing you think about is going back to sleep?”
“I’m kidding baby.” Steve placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’ve missed you so much.” Hermione hit his chest.“I’ve missed you too Steve even though you did a horrible job of taking care of me. You was sleep the whole time.”
“I was not!”
“You was but to reply from what you said earlier.” Hermione uttered placing her head onto his chest again. “I love you too.” Steve placed his chin onto of her head.
“You called Bucky da-da.”
Hermione stepped back looking bewildered. “You got to be kidding me.”
Okay so I decided to just finish it off since I published it by ACCIDENT 😂😂. Sorry that it’s short!
I hope you guys liked it.
Stay slutty my friends.
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Whispers of the Past - Chapter 14
Summary: She has a past that she can’t quite remember, then again so does he. When worlds collide he may be the only one that can help her, and they might find out that their pasts are more intertwined than they ever would have thought.
Warnings: The story of Peggy & Steve in small flashbacks - light smut, brief mention of abortion, mention of stillbirth
AN: So I scheduled this to post yesterday but dumbler decided to not post it *eye roll*. This week is short but it fills in the missing backstory. No chapter next week because I’m GRADUATING WITH MY MASTERS! woot woot so I’m taking the week/weekend off to celebrate. Can’t wait to see what y’all think about this one!
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
malen'kaya lisa = little fox
Please do not duplicate, or post my works anywhere without my express consent. This is an 18+ story minors DNI thank you.
“Stevie, we’ve got two nights of leave, take that dame dancing or I will.”
“Can you focus please Buck.” Steve grumbled, looking at the map spread out on the table of the small house the commandos had set up shop in. “Based on what you saw I think it would be best to split into two teams, one advances from the north, one from the south, where’s the best place for you?”
“On the Western ridge, gives me a good vantage point to watch both teams.” Bucky replied quickly. “All I’m saying man is that a beautiful dame like that who has eyes for you can’t be expected to wait around forever. I’d shake a leg, otherwise she might realize she’s way outta your league and find someone better.”
Steve huffed rolling the map up. “If I promise to take her for a drink will you shut up and focus.”
“One hundred percent.”
“Fine, when we get our leave I’ll take her out. But I’m not taking her dancing yet.”
“Gosh Peg, you are so beautiful.” Steve said, cupping the side of her face as he stretched himself over her on the bed. She reached down and undid his belt while he kissed her breathless. After she got through with his belt, she pushed his pants and underwear down far enough to free his erection.
“Peg,” He sighed, when she started to gently stroke him. “I.. I.. I’ve never…” he trailed off with a moan when she gave a light squeeze at his base then ran her finger over the tip. Peggy hooked a leg up around his hip using it to roll him over until she was on top.
“Don’t worry soldier,” she cooed, leaving featherlight kisses along his jaw. “I’ve got you.” she whispered before sliding him into her.
“I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance.”
“Alright. A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club.”
“You got it.”
“Eight o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late. Understood?”
“You know, I still don’t know how to dance.”
“I’ll show you how. Just be there.”
“We’ll have the band play somethin’ slow. I’d hate to step on your…”
“Steve? Steve? Steve?”
“Pregnant? Are you sure?”
“Okay, I’m going to get a ring. I’ll have Jarvis pull everything together quickly, we can be married before you start to show.”
“I’m not marrying you Howard.”
“Okay, it might take a bit of doing but I can find you a doctor.”
“What?! You said you wouldn’t get married, so I figured.”
“Absolutely not, out of the question!”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to figure it out and have this baby.”
New York, 1946
“Mr. Stark, it’s time.”
“Time for what?”
“Ms. Carter has gone into labor. I told her you would meet her at the hospital.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Who are you? Where is doctor Muller?”
“Doctor Muller is out of town. I am Doctor Carl Zold, take a deep breath for me you’ll be just fine. Now I need you to give me a few good pushes.”
Gritting her teeth Peggy bore down.
“Good, very good. I see a head, keep going, you can do it. The shoulders are out, that’s the hardest part. One more good push and we’re done.”
Peggy gave another good push and waited to hear the cries of her baby. “What’s going on, why aren’t they crying?”
“Nurse, go get her husband.” The doctor shouted before running out of the room with Peggy’s baby in his arms.
“What’s going on? What’s happening to my baby? Where did he take them?”
“I’m terribly sorry Miss Carter unfortunately your baby was not breathing when she was delivered and we were unable to revive her.”
“Yes Arnim, everything went according to plan. I’ve handed off the child, I’ll be meeting them in Berlin in three days time.”
“Good proceed as planned. I am curious to see how much of his genetic material the child inherited.”
“I ran it another three times. Tony even watched the last test. They all came out the same.” Bruce said, handing another file to Steve.
“I dug through some of the Peggy/Howard personal boxes that were here before we took over. I found this.” Tony handed a file to Steve. “It’s a medical report detailing the stillbirth of a baby girl to Peggy Carter in May of 1946. Doctor Carl Zold oversaw the delivery, I had FRIDAY look him up. Carl Zold was an alias used by Doctor Claus Zola in the late 40s.”
Steve paled and looked up from the report with wide eyes. “Any relation to Arnim Zola.”
“Jesus” Steve ran a hand over his face.
“Best I can figure from what I was able to find. Zola delivered Y/N, reported it as a stillbirth and spirited her away to Hydra and no one was the wiser.”
“I should have been there.”
“Yeah well you weren’t” Tony said coolly before walking out. Steve slumped back into his chair and closed his eyes. Mentally flying through all the what-if scenarios he could come up with. What if he had just jumped out of the plane before setting it down, what if he never got on the plane in the first place, what if, what if, what if. He was abruptly pulled out of the rabbit hole.
“Captain Rogers!” FRIDAY exclaimed,“I’ve located Sergeant Barnes, he has just entered the western edge of the compound. He seems to be accompanied by a dog and is severely injured. Should I alert medical?”
Steve jumped to his feet. “Yes have them on standby, and tell Sam and Tony to meet me there.” He said sprinting out of his office and down the hall.
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